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chain-link-smut · 7 months

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Hello Beautiful Beasties!

Smut-tember 23, Day 23: Legend x Reader(GN) - Fire And Ice

Summary: Legend keeps everyone at arms reach, but you placed a bet with him. If he cursed, he had to go out of his way to be kind to all of the others. If he powered through without one word slip, you were only allowed to sleep in his bed for two weeks.

Word count: 839

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Red candle tipped to the side ever so slightly. A bead of melted wax rolled down the length of the candle, only to stop right before it made it to the bottom, causing the anticipation of its heat to rise. Another bead followed the first, but this one fell through the short distance between the candle and the pale skin below it.

Drip…

Drip, drip...

Drip…

Red splatters lined the navel and the centerline of the torso, working up towards the chest. Most of the wax was in pools, but where it was thinned on the trailers up or over, was pink. Just as pink as the hero’s hair that it was spilt on. Legend hissed at the initial contact of the wax before sighing into a moan.

Not that he really had a choice since you were straddling his lap, he watched every movement you made. His eyes tracked the candle that was still in your right hand, then flicked over to your left when you reached for something off to the side. You exaggerated the amount of time to bring your hand back, holding a cube of ice. He shifted under you, his cock stroking against your ass.

“Where is that going?” Legend had a curious tone.

“A couple of places.” You saw his brows pull together. “What, suddenly you don’t trust me?” You rotated your hips to make him groan for you.

“Your mind comes up with some… colorful ideas sometimes.”

“Oh? Colorful, like this?” At the exact same time, you tipped the candle to the side over his left nipple while you swirled the ice directly onto his right. Legend was trying to behave, keeping his hands on the table and not cursing. If he cursed, he had to show affection towards every single member of the chain within the next three days. It was going to hurt his ego. He hadn’t done it yet, but there was no way he was going to be able to make it until the end to curse. His mouth parted like he wanted to say something, but clenched shut when he saw your devious smile. “Nope. It’s going to take way more than that- haAH!” You had placed the ice back on his nipple, but poured some wax around it, causing the polar opposites to be more intense than anything you had done yet. His back curved and twisted before once again settling with a pleased hum.

“Hmm, good boy.”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that, Sugar.”

“As you wish.” You got off the bed, placing the candle down and tossing the ice into the nearby basin. You opened the drawer to the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of oil that is labeled ‘Fun Times’, lathering it in your hands, then all over Legends groin and legs. Basically anywhere there was hair.

The candle had time to melt quite a bit, giving you an abundance of hot running wax to play with. You applied some to his lathered thighs and hips. Legend had white knuckles as he held himself together, refusing to look at what you were doing.

The next place the wax touched was at his waist line and you continued down until you reached the base of his cock, pooling it there. His legs twitched when the pool of wax overfilled the area and ran a little further down. Wanting to see his reaction to the molten wax near his balls, you only let a drop or two on each one.

“Oh shiii- mmm this isn’t fair!”

You didn’t say anything, only started drizzling more red wax onto Legend’s sack, mindful of how it could feel if it went a bit higher than planned. What you didn’t plan or expect was when some of it dripped lower… much lower, causing Legend to moan and his hips thrust forward.

Your body wasn’t off limits to get him to curse, especially since he had told you that there was no way you could make him. Smirking you wrapped your lips around his proudly standing cock, letting him get carried away by the action and warmth that was your mouth. You kept your eyes open to see when he closed his, giving you the advantage of a surprise.

His eyes closed for a long period of time as you slowly bobbed your head, getting enough wax reader. You didn’t let it gently trickle onto his balls this time. You let the melted wax flow and it painted his milky skin crimson.

Legend lost…

Oh how delightful it was to hear him curse just the single word, “ Fuck!! ” hand grabbing the hair at your nape, but allowed you to pull off before he came across his own torso. The other were going to be so confused as to why Legend is being overly nice. You would pay just to see him be generous to Wars.

You couldn’t say he came without being touched, but that was something you wanted to explore another day with this same play.

Keep it Naughty you Beautiful Beasties🖤

#loz smut #purely smut #smut-tember #st23 #18+ only #legend x reader

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 2 years

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How will the great 7 (especially scar) react to yuu dating leona? I can see some of them will get angry about it...

Imma list them to make them easier

Evil Queen: You can do better in her eyes. This man has no manners, is lazy, and puts little effort into anything! You should be with someone more cultured and hardworking, young one!

Queen of Hearts: She would see how Leona would treat her precious hedgehog overall. She's a more zany and wacky individual, I think her only problem is that Leonas definition of fun is boring to her.

Jafar: Though he would prefer if you could rule, he does understand how much easier it is time be with a second son. He doesn't mind Leona, however he does occasionally want to smack him for his tounge. That's his diamond!

Maleficent: Does he make you happy? Good. She would be the most supportive. However she would appreciate if her beasties lover can be a bit less emotionally constipated rude. Her crow doesn't mind him either.

Scar: He does love an idealist and would approve of Leona after he proves himself. He's protective of his cub and doesn't want them to be taken advantage of.

Hades: It doesn't matter what you choose kiddo, he will bully your lover. Kinda eh about Leona, he's no fun and so serious! All gloomy, how boring.

Ursula: The most protective of her baby! Leona would also need Flotsam and Jetsams approval too. She would have to keep her eye on him for a good while until she approves, she does love how devious he is tho. She's a bit of an inappropriate aunt have u seen her 'body language' scene? Prepare for awkward questions

#not writing #not requests #twisted wonderland #the great 7 parents #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader

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mark-of-chrysus · 1 year

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I remembered the Mommy Sammy loop and I was wondering - what if it was combined with the Little Daniel getting adopted by Big Deal loop? For example, what if Danny is adopted and the whole Johan incident happens soon after, but Sammy decided that she'll take her in under her wing. Female Johan and Samuel would be so cool.

Meanwhile, Danny is growing up and he realizes that Samuel and Johan are girls but Big Deal still hasn't realized it. Cue Daniel casually tring to tell Sinu and Yeonhui and the rest of Big Deal about it and them not believing him because what girl would be as much a psycho as those two (they think this with affection).

It would also be kinda fluffy since Samuel would probably stay with big deal and maybe try to legally become a business mogul (kind of like going to school and still making one mcn, just not with workers).

Idk I just thought it was a cool idea. Sorry for all the rambling.

"All of them are dumbasses," Daniel grumbled, kicking pebbles.

"Mhm." Sammy didn't even bother pretending otherwise, as she completed another test and began checking her answers.

Daniel had just returned from his usual daily attempt at opening Sinu and Jake's eyes regarding Sammy and Johane's gender. It had gone as expected, he got laughed at and sent on his way so the adults could 'do their job' (playing video games until 3 am). He had managed to convince Yeonhui a few weeks ago, as the girl was obviously much less dense than the two dunderheads leading the crew.

The time-looper trapped in a 7-year-old's body gave a long-suffering sigh, crouching near the steps on which his big sister figure was sat.

"They even had the gall to laugh in my face and tell me that I was making stuff up to avoid doing my homework. Can you believe that?!"

"The audacity." Samuel drawled making the tiny boy bristle even harder.

"You aren't even listening to me!" He shouted in annoyance, maybe a bit too loud for how late at night it was.

'Yep, definitely too loud' he sweatdropped when the lights in the building behind them turned on. A ruffled, half-asleep brown-haired girl made her way out after a few beats of silence, followed closely by her loyal companion. Eden took one look at them, deciding that whatever human business they were doing didn't affect him, and headed back in after a large yawn. Johane looked tempted to follow his example.

"What are you two doing?" She asked instead, plopping down beside Sammy. "You know you're going to ruin your eyes like that, right?"

Sammy looked up at her. She had a flashlight strapped to her head and was checking her answers in pink glitter pen while the book was precariously balanced on one of her knees. The buff girl pointedly pushed her glasses up her nose.

"You know what I meant." Johane huffed "You're going to damage your eyes even more, then you'll have to wander around like a blind bat before age 30. And what's gotten in you, pup, why'd you shout at 1 in the morning like a damn prairie dog?"

The child shuffled his feet, the tips of his ears reddening.

"I didn't mean for it to be that loud. It's just that the guys-"

"What guys?"

"Sinu and Jake" Sammy supplied

"-are being such idiots that it's starting to really irk me!"

Johane paused, probably still a bit slow from tiredness and trying to gather her thoughts and articulate them in a kid-friendly way.

"Did you just now notice?" Was all she managed to come up with. "I mean, they've been like that since-"

"Forever." Sammy completed her sentence, closing the book and turning off the flashlight before turning to face her two younger siblings figures. "So those fuckers can't take the fact that me and her were born with vaginas and boobs. What are you gonna do about it? It's not as if you can force them to change their minds..."

The maniac smirk that spread on the beastie's face (She thought him that! That was her greatest achievement in raising the little hellspawn and no one could deny it!) made her pause. Sammy knew how devious the brat could be, but as she thought back to what she had said offhandedly just now, the Economical Studies students could already predict his thought process.

"Thanks, Sammy! You just gave me a great idea, I knew those crocodiles with lightsabers would come in handy again!" He ran up to the buff girl and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before running off.

"What have we just unleashed?" Sammy pondered out loud.

"And where is my kith?" Johanne slurred already half-leaning onto her shoulder.

#time loop #lookism manhwa #webtoon lookism #lookism #daniel park #johan seong #female johan #samuel seo #female samuel #big deal

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writer59january13 · 1 year

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Wergle Flomp Good Humor 2023

The following constitutes a rather twisted as a pretzel TITLE:

I dash with my jiggling boobs in an attempt to escape... being overrun by teddy bears and beanie babies while carrying out heavy duty spring cleaning.

Twas the bright idea of zee missus aye air and dedicate this poem

(yes tis correct, if you bare lee remember this mister

did formerly she push lee duck clear addressed said spouse

"my little buttock blaster” endear ring - for obvious reasons,

and before she begat two 'ere rip press ably lovely daughters),

anyway thee wife I fear to publicize contracted a benign

strain sans incurable glare ring housecleaning malady; thus far no unpronounceable hair raising name affixed

to non contagious condition, nevertheless

accursed malady, whereby to keep her from auctioning me on eBay, I squarely hide in root cellar.

She frenziedly scrubbing stubborn stains

from clothes, dishes, and gamut of hibernating Oryctolagus cuniculus domesticus

horde (nee motley crue) entrapping scampering dust bunnies that come breathing alive

nsync with beastie boy city rollers culture clubbing babes

upon first spring day engrossed in this, that,

or some other sweeping floor foray (analogously to Velveteen Rabbit) shedding fifty shades of gray winter coat when warmer temperatures arrive,

where humongous fur clumps would lay comprising sudden empty raft of shelf space minus a may zing globules, oh...lemme get on track, whence frenzied fever

"cleaning bug" nee major virus afflicting wife,

would necessitate impossible task

strapping former feisty Norwegian farm gal in straight jacket livingsocial every would be no game to play 24/7 daily challenge devious skullduggery Smokey and the Bandits

an imp posse sub bill outlaw gang, who lived

like Aristo curr Rats along the quay, which unpredictable timeframe

boot tiring and cruel task

of her life Yukon say thine remaining lifetime,

that's my wife oye vey would frank lee zapping

every last oomph of mine if able twin door remaining with spouse meanwhile 'till she obviously plucks persistent sprouting stranded follicle tiller broad forehead resembles

a minuscule tarmac way.

Though far fetched, not impossible

for me and Joe Six Pack to become one and the same since a concerned counterpart

contributes to the mix cuz, she waves a scolding gold finger

dying with craven craving for sweet licks to grace tastebuds longing

to savor and dissolve sucrose in any one of the natural

or synthesized combinations in an effort whose memory of a washboard tummy

doth hunger for youth afflicts

recent embarkation since maintaining a diet

of exercise no more pesky heeding "yo dude"

(you look like a lady),

the inner fitness maven against

temptation of high caloric junk food

and nightly snack king

on a flexible fitness routine,

this lxiv aged body electric feels good

these myopic eyes and

well-calibrated hands measure less dense hood-

winking bosom, that if I feigned being

a "bared naked lady" -

asper this chest lewd

city in reference to "man boobs"

that seemed to materialize overnight

now appear to decrease as well

that unwanted "love handle,

this chap more inclined

tubby in a greater mood

to parade around

this non-crowded house shirtless

AND definitely NOT in public,

BUT no weigh Jose

would this generic guy go completely nude

cuz being self-consciousness of my physique

might prompt outsiders

to consider me a prude

and even during closed bedroom door

sexual exploits deter me tibia rude

fellow (with average go daddy long legs)

and my dangling dipstick smallish

(concluding biology screwed)

a chap worthy tube he more endowed,

though gratitude proffered

to same divine cosmic consciousness

but as the year's pile up appreciation

of functional faculties alter matts' at tee 'tude

accepting physical characteristics

more or less static

hoe ping believe mass elf ya wood.

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ordinaryxxgirl · 2 years

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@bcnezone asked: 🛁 - Arden + Tsuki? (Arden being oblivious to implications and thinking "we're both all nasty from that hunt, we should shower together to help get clean", possible escalation by Tsuki)

Tsuki, by this point, knew better than to jump to assuming Arden wanted to have sex when things like this came up, even if the idea was hers. As much as she adored the “foreign” hunter and found her possibly the most attractive woman she’d ever met, she was just so adorably oblivious...Not that Tsuki really minded, at this point. She was managing to keep up well enough, so at least the ebon-haired huntress wouldn’t have to worry about Arden too much.

Though...Tsuki hadn’t expected to be completely caked in monster blood after viciously taking her frustrations out on a particularly troublesome beastie. She was...Pretty sure Minoto had looked a little surprised to see them so filthy as she made the report, too, but what’d really surprised the dark-haired woman was Arden’s comment that they’d probably want to shower together to help get one another clean. Not only was it pretty efficient, but...

It’d given Tsuki a devious little idea too, a smile spreading on her face as she moved to slip behind Arden, pressing her body against the hunter’s own and pressing her lips against the other’s ear as she whispered softly. This was probably the best chance she’d had in a while...And she’d be damned if she didn’t take it.

“Man, that’s a pretty good point...Hey, Arden, how about we go get cleaned up? Maybe you could let me make sure you’re nice and clean, my hands taking care of every last inch of your body...? I wanna make sure you look nice and cute, you know...Free of that gross stuff we’ve gotten ourselves covered in.

And after we’re nice and clean...What would you say to some nice, intimate sex? You in my lap, wrapping your arms around me as I slowly lower you onto my dick...I’d be holding you tight, even as I took you...Heheh, what do you think of that...?”

#{Hedonistic Huntress | Tsuki}#bcnezone

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tickling-giggles · 2 years

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Hi! Would you be able to do just one more followup to the TT raspberry fics? Where Robin beats beast boy in video games so Beast boy gives him raspberries to punish him lol. Please just beast boy this time blowing the raspberries. Thanks lol

Cocky attitude

A/N: lmao I don’t mind it ———————————————————————-

Robin and beastboy were currently playing a video game in beasty’s room. The game taht they were playing was called “Purritos” basically a street fighter game that involves cat like characters with burrito related weapons.

“DUUUHUHUUDE YOU SUCK” Robin chuckled. Robin was currently beating him again for the 8th time in a row that was there 9th “rematch”. “Shut up” Beastboy sucked his teeth as he lost AGAIN.

“After this one then we can have a snack break pleeeeeeeeease” Beastboy begged for another rematch. “Psssh Fine this is gonna be light work but after this seriously snack break” Robin smirked. “DEAL deal” Beastboy feeling confident this time.

”Nononoho DUUUUDE YOUR CHEATING” Beastboy whined as he lost. “Pfft no I’m just that good but hey atleast you we’re closer that time….BUUUT you didn’t beat me so tough one” Robin puffed his chest out.

“Any who time for a snacky snack”Robin sanged. “I don’t like your cocky attitude mister” beastboy crossed his arm glaring at Robin.

“What you mad you lost” Robin scoffed. “Y’know that cocky bad attitude little boys like you need to be punished” Beastboy cooed. “You can’t do jack squat to meEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE” Robin screeched as beastboy squeezed his sides tackling him to the ground.

“Hey Robin what’re giraffes favorite food”Beastboy seized his attack for a split second. “uhum leahahves”. “Nope” Beastboy inhaled before planting a fat raspberry on Robins tummy. “GYAHAHAHA THAHAHAHAT DOHOHOSE’NT EHEHEVEN MAHAHAKE SENSEEEEHH” “what was that did you as for more? Ok coming right up” Beastboy joked. “Beheheheastboy pleheEEEEHEHEHEHASE GYAHAHAHAA ITS SOHOHOHO BAHAHAD” Robin shrieked once more. “NAHAHAHAT AGAHAHAHIN”.

“Wha- again ok buddy your lucky I love ya” Beastboy ignored him. “nahahahaAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEASEHEHEHE”.

“Please what do more raspberries ok chief your the boss”. Beastboy winked as he took a deeeeep breath. NYAHAHAHAHAHA*snort*GREE*snort*HAHAHAHA GREEN GREHEHEHEEN” Robin pleaded. “Hahahaa thahat was worse thehen last tihime” Robin admitted while hugging his midriff. “Y’know I can be devious you big meanie”Beastboy smirked.

“Ohok point taken nohow I’m hungry and thirsty” robin sighed. ”Lets go you big gohoof” Beastboy giggled as he helped his friend up.

#kiara writes #tickle drabble #tickle fic #lee!robin #ler!beastboy #teen titans tickles #teen titans tickling

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jazzraft · 3 years

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Halloween Prompt #2 - Noct & Papa Regis :D

that post-halloween time change did me wonders so imma just extend spooky season for a bit while I ride this well-rested high

-----

“Who ate all my candy?!!”

The King’s voice thundered through the suite, a counterfeit outrage made to match the mundanity of the crime. It was a grisly scene: skins of foil wrappers lay shredded across the carpet, with dark stains clotting the velvet in a sticky trail which betrayed the retreat of the culprit. Regis strode, grimly, over the carnage, in hot pursuit of the fugitive.

This terrible massacre must be avenged. He must deliver justice swiftly and without mercy. By his honor as King and by the power bestowed upon him by the Crown City of Insomnia, he would bring this malicious villain to rights. He could hear the daemonic little creature’s laughter, somewhere in the room. The devious giggling echoed around the expansive chamber, making it difficult to pinpoint where exactly his felon was hiding.

“Alright now, turn yourself in!” Regis barked with the smallest bit of authority behind the order, adding some weight to the severity of this most brutal of atrocities. “There’s nowhere to run, Noctis.”

The gleeful tittering stifled off at the seriousness with which Regis called him by name. The gravity of what he’d done dropped down a sudden doom over the royal apartments, plunging the room into silence. Regis stalked along the perimeter, investigating drafty curtains and the cracked open wardrobe doors in search of the nefarious runaway.

The cessation of his laughter only bought Noctis a few moments before his sugar-rush squirming gave him away again. Regis pretended not to notice the creaking from behind the closet door, nor the shadow skittering back and forth beneath the crease where the wood met the floor. Long had it been since Regis feared monsters in his closet, but right now? He was shaking in his boots.

Such destruction had been wrong in the little beastie’s wake, a gooey, gory mess of nougat and caramel remains left behind in the wake of slaking his ravenous appetite. If Regis wasn’t careful, the tiny butcher might just return to the scene of the crime and claim another victim. Not on this King’s watch! Not again! He wasn’t about to lose another one!

“You’ve committed a serious crime, Noct,” Regis intoned, with grave foreboding. “You’ll have to pay a very serious price to match.”

He heard his traitorous son snicker and snort, a clumsy attempt to keep quiet so he didn’t give away his position. But it was too late for the devious little gremlin. The King was narrowing in on his hidden lair, justice marching stolidly in his footsteps.

He toyed with his pursuant for a bit longer, checking everywhere except the closet with increasingly dramatized frustration. In a way, Regis almost hoped the thieving little convict might escape while he distracted himself with false hiding places. He was enjoying the chase more than he knew he’d enjoy doling out the retribution he’d promised on behalf of his brutalized candy pile.

Alas, Regis could only keep up the charade for so long. While the royal chambers were vast, there were only so many places to hide – and Noctis would not forgive him should he intuit Regis was making it too easy for him. His son did not appreciate being coddled, which Regis grew prouder of – and more amused by – every single day that the six-year-old pouted over having been handed victories he didn’t earn.

So, Regis approached the closet, with its rollicking shadows skimming the edges as the concealed candy killer paced the confines of his prison. Noctis would fight for his escape, Regis could tell by the frenetic energy frisking across the floorboards. They’d run this race many holidays over – Noctis being a repeat offender for trespassed candy caches. He may not have wanted Regis to hand him his freedom, but he’d be sure to challenge him for it. Noctis loved the chase as much as Regis did. Couldn’t imagine where he got that from.

Regis finally brought himself before the closet door, bracing himself for whatever treachery the tiny outlaw was planning for his escape.

“This is your last chance to surrender, Noctis,” Regis warned in a low voice, hands on the doorknob. “Come quietly now…”

Regis flung open the door, hoping to catch Noct by surprise, but the prince was prepared for it. The diminutive derelict seized on his advantage in size to steal beneath Regis’s legs where they bracketed the doorway. A stance Regis had hoped to block his means of retreat had betrayed him his triumph. Regis made a noise of abject affront, stumbling around to resume chase.

He was far too slow, however, because when he turned, the treacherous monarch-to-be had Regis’s one weakness fisted in his pint-sized paw. Noctis stood over the sack of candy, a grim white specter in his moogle-themed onesie. From the heap the king had abandoned in his pursuit, the malevolent moogle snatched the cellophane packaging of a candied ring. The “gem” was big and red, melded to a cheap plastic band for kids to adorn their hands, lick like lollipops, and pretend they were Kings of Lucis for the night.

Regis immediately collapsed to his knees, extending an arm in supplication as Noctis released the treasure from its sheath.

“By the Six, no!” Regis exclaimed, eyes blown wide in terror. “You don’t know the power in that which you wield!”

“I know that once I wear this ring, I shall be King of Lucis!” Noctis said between peals of maniacal laughter. “Then no one can stop me from having all the candy I want!”

Noctis held the ring over his finger, hovering just before his fingertip. Regis continued to entreat with him, dragging himself pitifully across the carpet to reach him in time. Reminders of Noct’s cruelty clung to Regis’s pant leg – the launderer would not be happy with him for crawling through caramel. He mustn’t let this miniature maniac take control of the Ring, lest all the candy in Lucis suffer the same genocide as he witnessed tonight.

But Regis was too weak, and Noct’s craving too strong, and he couldn’t stop him from slipping the ring onto his sugar-stained finger. Regis made a choked sound, bringing his hand to his chest. He wobbled for a moment, gasping in theatrical despair as his power failed him.

“Aahh,” he wheezed, rolling onto his back. “Magic waning… Light fading… The kingdom is lost… Blegh…”

He stretched his arm skywards in one last valiant plea to the gods in their Astral Realm to have mercy on Lucis… And then, he expired, arms falling loosely at his sides as the last of his strength abandoned him. The murderous moogle shimmied solemnly over to the body of the King, lightly placing a fuzzy foot upon his unmoving chest.

“The King is slain!” Noctis announced to the empty room. “Now comes the Reign of the Moogle-King! Mwuahaha!”

While the diabolical despot proclaimed his victory, with the candy ring gleaming red with the melted blood of its fallen brethren, suddenly, a strange sensation compelled Regis’s dead limbs into moving.

“You forget, my foolish son,” he whispered. “That once a King of Lucis is slain, he joins the ranks of the Lucii. Now, I’m more powerful than ever!”

Regis swiftly resurrected himself, grabbing the tiny tyrant around the waist and rolling him across the carpet in a terrible tickle fight of revenge! Noct’s horrid squeals of agonized delight bounced throughout the suite. He tried to squirm away, but now that Regis was no longer bound by a corporeal form, there was little the fallen prince could do to shake him.

“You bear the Ring of the Lucii,” Regis told Noctis in a ghostly drawl. “Therefore, you bear my soul for all eternity. Even in death, I shall follow you to the ends of Eos!”

“Noooo!” Noctis wailed in defeat, then surrendered to his ticklish fate.

Someone had the audacity to interrupt them, right in the middle of Regis’s well-fought deliverance. A firm knock came at the door – one knock only, quite adamant in its delivery, only announcing itself once before entering – which could only mean it was Cor. Regis was laying on the floor where he’d been slain, his spirit clutching Noctis to his chest in a purgatory of laughter for his crimes against the candy piles of Lucis.

“Er, Your Majesty,” Cor cleared his throat. “Your presence is requested in the throne room.”

“You’ll have to offer my apologies, Marshall,” Regis sighed, forlornly. “For you see, I am quite dead, and quite incapable of dragging my desiccated corpse out to appease the people. I think they’d find it quite upsetting, don’t you, Noct?”

“The Undead King of Lucis!” Noctis crowned him, with all of the eerie elation appropriate for the season.

Cor sighed, through his nose, terse and unamused (perhaps a little amused). “If you could just reanimate yourself for one moment…”

“Nope!” Regis declared. “I shan’t! It’s Hallowtide.”

He looked upon the flushed face of his son, cheeks smeared in chocolate stains and bouncing with laughter upon his chest. Yes, he was afraid he was quite dead and long gone. Because this little monster had clawed the very heart from the King’s chest the day he was born.

#noctis lucis caelum #regis lucis caelum #final fantasy xv #ffxv #final fantasy 15 #glaivenoct #myfic

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fictionerd · 5 years

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Good to see you, friends!

Good to finally get back to Dororo after so long isn’t it?

So we’re just not going to talk about the fact that the post is late... AGAIN!

Cut Vic some slack, Aria. He’s been working hard lately. The Library hasn’t been attacked this often since the days when Morrow was still around.

Oh! So now it’s okay to talk about that? I’ve been been worried about this crap since the end of last month, but NOW that it’s a handy excuse for Vic we can talk about it?

Sisters, please? You’re both right. This post is a day late on top of which we’ve got a backlog of shows we’ll need to double up on this week. The Library has been in danger for well over a month. We still haven’t figured out why they only took the old lab and nothing else. I think we could all use a break so let’s all talk about Dororo shall we?

Yeah, okay.

You’ve got it. Take us away, Fic.

Synopsis: So our boy Hyakkimaru has been going 100% “Deal with it” shades since the family reunion to the point where the precious angel that is Dororo worries he won’t be a Healthymaru for much longer. So the tiny con artist conceives of a brilliant scheme! Trick Hyakkimaru into going to a hot spring to relax!

Of course this wouldn’t be an episode if Hyakkimaru’s preternatural ability to attract every ghoulie, ghosty, and long-leggedy beasty in ancient Japan didn’t kick of, so on their way to the hot spring they come across a shack near a waterfall. We as the audience know that this place is where some crazy lady who lops off people’s faces lives.

Dororo bumps into crazy face lady in the woods and is immediately like “Mommy?” To which the audience collectively shout.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Doroofus leads not-mom back to Hyakkimaru and turns out they were crashing in her house... awkward much? Dororo spends a lot of this section of the episode alternately embarrassed and embarrassing. Going so far as asking to call crazy-face-lady “Mama”.

Turns out this Mama is the devious sort because she poisons the gruel! Our plucky heroes are soon whisked away to the land of nod, but not before the audience learns crazy face lady’s story.

She used to be a he, and he was a Buddha carver. His work fell out of favor and planning to stick it to the man he hid behind the waterfall and carved one MASSIVE Buddha. His resentment of the people who neglected his art grew so great that a demon up and possessed the statue and long story short when Buddha carver died without being able to carve a face he was happy with the demon turned him into crazy-face-lady.

Crazy-Face-Lady then proceeds to try and hack off Hyakkimaru’s face to give to the Demon-Buddha, but that goes about as well as you’d expect... BUT NOT BECAUSE OF HYAKKIMARU’S BADASSERY! Instead Dororo steps of the plate showing the willingness to put life and limb on the line for Hyakkimaru and revealing the depths to which their empathy runs. Dororo appeals to the stone-carver’s reason. Why does this demon Buddha have to have the most magnificent face? Surely having any face is preferrable to having none. Then the empathy card takes effect again as Dororo appeals to Crazy Face Lady to think about all the people she’s cut faces off over the years and happens to hit the perfect chord where he/she realizes that she/he has just been putting countless people through what he/she/it/we/they went through out of spite. Realizing the error of her ways she then crumples to dust after indulging Dororo’s desire to pretend their mother isn’t dead one last time.

Oh and Hyakkimaru stabbed the DemonBuddha but good off screen or something.

As the two head off down the road Dororo admits to lying to get Hyakkimaru to head towars R&R and Hyakkimaru’s just like, “Yeah I know. Don’t worry let’s go drown ourselves in the most relaxing manner possible”

Which they do and we get a plot hook when some rambunxious kiddies spot a map tattooed (I think) on Dororo’s back. EGADS! Do I smell... RESOLUTION!?

Aria’s Thoughts: I can’t, for the life-ish of me, figure out why Dororo didn’t drop the “Mama” crap the second he found out about the whole “Face-chopping” thing. There’s needing some catharsis and then there’s lunacy. Then again his appeal to empathy DID win in the end so I suppose I can give him the point. My section for this show is a bit superfluous. It’s GOOD like REALLY GOOD so I’m mostly here to nitpick. I’m a champion nitpicker though so I guess that checks out.

Justine’s Thoughts: Dororo was the most adorable little badass in this episode and it lightens my heart. She refused to back down even with knockout drugs running through her system. Tried damn hard to put herself between Hyakkimaru and Okaka at every turn, and ultimately saved the day. The story of the Stone carver was perfectly tragic, and the way they were stunned to near silence when they realized what they’d done to feed their obsession was fantastic. Furthermore I know we don’t talk about animation a lot around here, but the slow droop of Dororo’s hand as the drugs took effect was heartbreaking and fatastically done. Here’s looking forward to the next episode.

So we can all agree that Dororo was fantastic and we won’t be sorry to see the focus shift to resolving their past, yeah?

Seems that way.

Absolutely so.

Good. Well then that being said: Until next post keep talking fiction, friends! We’ll see you soon!

#Anime #Let's Talk Anime #Dororo #Dororo 2019 #Dororo Mappa #Fictionerd #Aria Weiss #Justine Beacon #In-Character #Spring 2019 #Spring Anime 2019 #Spring Season 2019 #Spring Anime Season

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dougielombax · 8 months

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A truly devious little beastie!

#personal stuff #dougie rambles #Star Wars #star wars outlaws #nyx #wee beastie #fuck Ubisoft #my poor attempt at a joke #what will he do #creature #a creature #the creature #behold #him #he #wee man #little man #bear witness

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evieshook · 7 years

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make the switch

pairing: harry/evie rating: pg-13 words: ~2300 a/n: sorry it took so long anon! hope you enjoyed prompt: harry sees evie when they're making the trade for ben and he decides he wants her so he makes uma trade ben for evie read on: [ao3] [ffn.net]

Uma crossed her arms, eyeing the pirate unimpressed.

But Harry ignored her stare, looking equally unrelenting as she spoke. "And why would I do something like that?"

He knew she thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. Far from it in fact. And as his lips curved into a wry grin, he knew he’d have to pull all the stops to make her change her mind. The idea itself had been outrageous from the moment it had been contrived, but he knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. Not when he was so close, she was so close.

“'Cause Uma, do ye really think they'd just give you the wand?"

She frowned, disliking the tone in his voice. He can see her irritation with his skepticism, knows she thinks his eyes are looking at her rather condescendingly, but it had to be done.

"Why wouldn't they? I have their King, don't I?" Uma snapped rather harshly, unable to hide her irritation. This had to be one of the first times when he had openly disagreed to one of her proposals, often finding no fault with what she planned as they had always been on the same wavelength.

Harry only heaved a nonchalant shrug. "But who says they'd just give ye the wand? They'd probably have somethin' up their sleeve."

Uma bristled at the thought, hands moving down to her side to grip the handle of her blade. He knew the thought probably hadn’t crossed her mind, not when she believed she had the ultimate blackmail material. But he knew better. Knowing Mal, the girl always had something up her sleeve. She wasn’t to be trusted. "I'll just kill them if they do."

From the tone of her voice, Harry had no doubt she would. Uma had always been like that. She didn’t care about the means as long as it led to her meeting her ends. She would do everything necessary to get what she wanted, and no one could tell her otherwise. But Harry wasn’t giving up on this, not on his life. He needed to make the trade if he ever wanted to see her again.

"But Uma, think 'bout it this way. If they give ye a fake wand and they get beasty boy back, we'd be left with nothin'. But, if we got her, they'd still lose."

Uma looked contemplative, mulling over his words before slowly shaking her head.

"I don't know Harry—"

"She's the perfect person to trade with. Don't ye remember how Mal so easily replaced you with her?"

It was low blow but he needed to do what he needed to do. Her little feud with Mal was legendary, and the easiest way to get something from her was by playing it to his advantage. No matter how long it had been, Uma was still bitter over what had happened and the girl was notorious over her grudges. Harry knew his comment had worked from the way the girl stiffened, eyes flashing in anger at the thought.

Perfect.

"Of course I remember! She acted as though I meant nothing to her, as if I was nothing but a piece of dirt she could so easily replace," she spat venomously, her grip on her blade only tightening.

Harry hid a grin. Hook, line and sinker.

"And if ye get her best friend, just imagine the look on Mal's face."

Uma almost brightened at the thought, openly indulging on the conjured look of betrayal and utter hatred that was sure to appear on Mal’s face when the time came around. It was too good of a thought not to take

"Yes, she'll be regretting she ever crossed me."

"So? What d'ye say? The king for the princess?" He didn’t even have to ask. He knew exactly what her answer would be as she looked at him deviously, a flame ignited behind her eyes.

"The king for the princess."

Mal and the VKs were glaring at Uma with wary eyes, obviously disturbed from the smile on her face that screamed of a malicious intent. But Harry wasn’t too focused on what they thought. He had only one face in mind, Evie.

"I decided I don't want the wand.”

All six pairs of eyes widened, each sharing looks at each other in disbelief before Mal turned back to Uma with narrowed eyes.

"What?"

Uma glanced back at Harry, but he was far too preoccupied with staring rather wickedly at his pretty blue princess who stood a little ways behind Mal. She was just as beautiful as he had remembered, her hair still that same shade of midnight blue but her outfit sporting a little more red than before. Perhaps it was a homage to him, he thought with a slight grin.

She hadn’t caught his eye yet, much to his irritation, but he equally enjoyed just staring at her openly as she distracted herself with the shock of Uma’s announcement. Just a little more patience.

Uma rolled her eyes before looking away, her eyes diverting to Evie instead. She flashed Mal a rather maniacal smile, the girl shifting into a defensive stance before pointing. "Give me her instead."

Everyone turned their heads to follow the direction of Uma’s pointed finger, small gasps of shock escaping from the VKs when realization settled in. Mal whipped her head back to face Uma with unbridled anger, but Uma only grinned.

"Evie?"

"Me?"

They both sputtered in unison, the captain nodding her head. "It's either you give me your pretty little princess or I make your king here walk the plank."

Evie was still in a state of shock, her eyes darting between Mal, Uma and Ben before reaching a pair of eyes standing to the right of her. He was staring right back at her, lips widening when they finally locked eyes. Harry watched as all the pieces started to make sense in her mind, putting two and two together before her eyes narrowed at him.

Mal began to speak. "I—"

"Just take me."

Everyone turns to Evie in shock as she held her head up high. He watched her with proud eyes, awed with the way she managed to carry herself even in spite of such hopeless situations. He had missed that about her, amongst many other things.

Mal shook her head almost immediately, walking over to her.

"But Evie—"

She silenced the girl with a small shake of the head, putting a hand out to stop the girl coming from any further. "If this is the only way to rescue Ben, then let her take me. I'll be fine Mal. Remember, I'm an Isle girl too, and my mother raised me in villainy. I can handle myself.”

"I—"

Carlos stepped forward, a hand placed on her arm. Harry’s eyes narrow at the boy, disliking the sudden physical contact. He knew they were close; unfortunately, Carlos had the title of being her first friend, but it didn’t stop the low growl that escaped his lips.

"Are you sure about this Evie?" She turned to him, giving him a small reassuring smile.

"Positive."

Mal wrapped her arms around the girl, tightly hugging her and almost afraid to let her go. "Go. But we'll come back for you. I promise."

Evie only smiled, forcing her tears back as she gave her a small nod.

"I'll hold you to it."

She walked past the VKs with such confidence, his eyes automatically trailed after her. He had to stop himself from grabbing her then and there are she stopped right in front of Uma, staring her with cold eyes. "You want me? Let Ben go and I'll come to you."

Harry bubbled with pride as Uma scoffed, sharing a look with Mal behind her before titling her head to the side with a smug smirk.

"Harry, grab her."

He was all too glad to follow as he immediately stepped forward, hand gripping her firmly around her wrist as she looked up at him in shock. He grinned down at her, unable to help himself, as her eyes stare blankly straight into his own. Definitely more beautiful up close.

Harry opened his mouth, ready to speak when Uma interrupted with a triumphant voice.

"On three, we make the switch."

Harry glanced behind her, seeing the VKs arrange themselves into fighting positions as they glare coldly at him. He smiled at them, giving a little bite before turning his attention back to Evie. Uma would get the trade done, and he would get his princess.

"One, two, three."

The look was quick but he caught it before anyone else saw, Harry finally pulling the girl away as Gil shoved Ben over to the VKs. He could hear cries in protest, and he knew Evie was tempted to turn back but he only walked faster, feeling her stumble behind him.

He could hear the scuffle still going in the background, hearing the sound of metal as Uma pulled out a sword to point at someone’s chest. Probably Jay’s.

"You promised."

Harry only had one destination in mind when he pulled her away, skillfully navigating through corridors and corridors until he reached the door right at the end of the hall. He roughly pushed the door open and walked the both of them inside, only letting her go once he closed the door behind him.

Evie stumbled away, massaging her wrist lightly before glaring up at him.

"Why'd you take me? Let me go Harry!"

He cocked his head to his side, grinning slightly as sauntered toward her. "Naww, and I thought you were excited to see me."

Her blue eyes narrowed in irritation. "More like disgusted. Why'd you do all this?" She motioned to her surroundings, having no doubt where they were. Hammock strung up near the window, shelves full of odd collectibles here and there, the numerous maps strewn around his floor, and not to mention the slightly opened closet door where she could clearly see some pieces of clothing peeking out. This was definitely Harry’s room.

"What makes ye think I had anythin' to do with this?" His grin turned devious, rather entertained by her infuriated state.

Evie stared at him, unimpressed. "And why else would Uma want me when she was dead set on getting the wand?"

The pirate only heaved a nonchalant shrug as he stroked the edge of his sharpened hook. "Who knows? Maybe revenge on Mal for replacing her with you."

Her eyes blazed in anger. "That's bullshit and you know it."

Harry knew she didn’t often swear, so when she did it was like music to his ears, especially when he had been the reason for her getting all riled up. One of his most favorite past times before she had left was to irritate her in as many ways as possible. He raised two hands up in surrender, eyeing her amusedly. "Ooh, feisty. That's my Princess."

"I'm not your princess. I'm not your anything Harry. You take me back now or I'll—"

He took a step forward, standing so close to her that they were almost inches away from touching. If he leaned down just a little more, he could kiss her but that would ruin all the fun if he acted too soon. Patience.

He shot her a challenging look. “You’ll what Princess?” he asked as he lifted his hook up, lightly brushing it through her locks. It ran through very smoothly, and lightly twirled a strand around as she stared at him.

He knew she was not unaffected by his ministrations from the way she hitched her breath, something swirling beneath those hazel eyes of hers. It made him smirk inwardly. “You’ll poison me with one of yer apples? Carve out my heart? Tell me what you’ll do,” he prodded, voice lowering until it turned almost silky.

It always had that effect on her. Perhaps she didn’t realize it, but he could almost hear her heart hammering against her chest as he spoke to her. She had once said that she enjoyed it when he spoke rather lowly, having confessed it made him very sexy in her eyes. Harry watched the turmoil in her eyes, almost guessing her train of thought. It probably angered her that he still had this effect on her, even after months of separation. But it was just the same for him; she just needed to be there and she still could affect him like no one else could.

Evie straightened herself before he felt her push him slightly away, taking a step back to place some distance between the two of them. Her chest was still heaving from his close proximity, and he watched as her cool façade slipped back on.

“You can’t keep me here forever you know. Mal, Jay, Carlos, they’ll come back for me.”

He looked at her amusedly. Her never ending faith in her friends was admirable, but they couldn’t help her now. Not this time. “Ah, but until then Princess, yer mine.”

Her features contorted into a frown. “I’m not yours! When will you stop saying that?”

“Until ye stop arguing otherwise. Face it Princess, we’re not over, we’ve never been over. Even after ye went to Auradon.”

“I have a boyfriend,” she retorted, but it came out so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. Harry’s eyes flashed with a cross of jealousy and anger. Of course she would have found someone. She was Evie, the most beautiful girl on the Isle and an expert in the art of seduction. It was a no-brainer people would be attracted to her, and now that she had gone to the place where the princes of her dreams were in abundance, perhaps she had found someone after all.

But he didn’t care. She was with him now. She had even told him that she had preferred pirates a few days before it was announced she would leave for Auradon.

Harry shook his head, brushing aside all the jealousy and anger. Instead, he settled on a self-satisfied smirk, reaching out to place a hand on her cheek. “Yeah, me.”

#hevie #harry x evie #descendants #harry hook #evie descendants #uma #mal #ben #he: fic #m: fic #mine #request filled

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croinagreine · 4 years

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Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

The boys are awake first thing in the morning, and Lugh manages to keep them contained to let Ms. Buckley sleep in as late as she can. She finds the boys at breakfast with their father leaning against the counter, nursing coffee while behind him the window lets in very little light as Boston is being covered by a blanket of snow. “’M fraid were going t’ have t’ fend fer ourselves, the Ravenchenko family are taking t’ day off.” His voice is warm as it is informative. “Dinnae ye fret though, I hired caterers for supper.”

One hand leaves the cup to rub sheepishly at the back of his neck. “Oh, and Michaeline’ll come some time after noon, so once we’ve let t’ wee beasties a’ Saint Nick’s bounty, ye’ve t’ day t’ yerself. If ye find d'at pleasin’.”

Lorcan gives his father a devious stare, to which Luka snickers. She doesn’t know what’s coming, they’d all done their best year. There were treats aplenty in her stocking, and various little and boring presents but then there were some that were special. “Can I pour ye some tea before we get started?”

~*~ x | x | x

She’d...attempted to sneak down stairs. Just to grab a little coffee and vanish again because Christmas was meant for family and--for all that she was growing comfortable and familiar with the children she tended ~~and their father~~--she wasn’t family. So when she’d finally woken up at a horribly late 8am (she can hear her mother’s tsking still) she’d made herself presentable and stolen down the stairs. Or at least...that had been the idea.

Yet rounding the door frame that leads from the back stairs...she’s met with a rather---well she’d expected them to be in the sitting room. Swimming through the mass of presents. (More than she’d ever seen in her life under one tree to be sure) as Mister Sweeney looked on like one of those picturesque Christmas portraits you saw hanging in department stores. But they’re...not.

No instead of ripping wrapping paper and echoing yells of excitement. It’s quiet. The boys sitting proper at the counter. Snitching food from each other’s plates, with only a few lost cause bits of pancake on the floor from trying to stick it to each other’s faces. Mister Sweeney himself leaned to against the counter, like a tree that can no longer be arsed to stand straight. Providing shade over the tiny little ‘pond’ of his coffee, from the wee bits of light that manage to make it through the snow drifts outside. And right then she really wishes she had a camera. From her stand point in the door way. Because it’s a moment. A moment she could have had with---none o’t’at now, Caity--she thinks. Letting the moment be just that. A moment. That she tucks away.

But like most moments it doesn’t last. Mister Sweeney inevitably breaking the silence to explain the absence of the cook. And now she’s wondering...exactly who made those small mountains of pancakes the boys are eating. Logically it had to be the only other adult in the room, but to be honest? She had never occurred to her--the idea the man could cook. Not because she thought him incapable just...why learn what you never actually had to do for yourself? And its added to the mental tally she keeps, of all talents the master of the house has. Though he’s reassuring her in the next moment that dinner will be catered.

A comment that has her giving the snow outside and only so dubious glance, as she pulls herself out of the doorway. Settling opposite the trio she’s come to care about. Some of them more than she probably should. Though at the mention of Michaeline and having the rest of the day to herself---right. Of course. That...makes sense. In so far as Christmas is generally a holiday. one in which most people that can afford it do not work. Still it draws up the memory that Michaeline just might be as lone as she is this year. Perhaps...more so given she’s alone by choice rather than because there’s no other option. But he could have family? Ones he doesn’t speak too. The man is rather private. Almost more so than their employer.

“Oh...ah, yes. Yes, that be agreeable.”

It’s a quiet response. Something to the way he worries at his neck nudging her to look elsewhere. As if some kind of small embarrassment has traversed the counter from him to her. Fingers fidgeting with each other, just out of sight. Green glancing ever so carefully down the kitchen before Luka’s snickers pull her attention. A lift of a questioning brow that has him swallowing the noise, planting an elbow in his brother’s side; that instantly realign’s the other boys attention back upon their mostly devastated breakfast.

“Tea, sounds lovely. T’ank, ye.”

It’s gracious and she does not fuss over the idea of him fussing over her. She lets him have the moment. The moment to be gentlemanly. The moment to pretend there are not certain boundaries between them. Pretend that she shouldn’t be the one pouring his coffee instead the other way around. And once they move from breakfast to presents? It’s...a bit overwhelming.

Paper and ribbon and boxes o’plenty in the aftermath. Presents that she truly had not expected at all, and treasures twice as much. The boys screeches and hollers and so very many thank yous that you would think them never had a Christmas before, at all. And she has to wonder how much more of that is their father’s doing verses her own. Though she likes to think she helped mold manners already instilled.

And she laughs at the shirt and cup. Promises to wear and use them always. But it is the wooden piece that catches her up most. Because it was so much more than just itself. It was acknowledgement her interests were taken notice of. Acknowledgement that they were aware of her even when it was not required, even when they did not rightly need her. Acknowledgement of...a lot more than just her knitting fancy. And it is perhaps the most precious of her small treasury of goodies. One that even if they don’t understand, will be held nearest her heart. Always.

#damhsagreine #damhsagreine 09 #tw: christmas #tw: holiday #Fall Into Your Sunlight || Lugh and Caity #Loved As Mine Own || Luka Lorcan Caity #Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious || A Nanny In Boston AU #Letters || Answered Asks #submission

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romancereadingdiva · 3 years

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A Vow of Hate Chapter Reveal!

A VOW OF HATE by Lylah James is coming January 5th, and today I have a chapter reveal for you!

Chapter Reveal:

Chapter One

Julianna

The ugliness of life is that sometimes we can’t undo what has been done. It doesn’t matter how devastating the outcome is; we can’t turn back time – can’t change the past – can’t fix the future.

“It is what it is,” my father had said that night.

The night I woke up from my coma, bedridden with two broken legs, three fractured ribs, a messed-up spine and a fractured skull… and more scars than I could bear.

One night, four months ago, I made a mistake that ruined more than one life.

Since then, I have learned that grief is just a stage of coming to terms with the situation.

Just like denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Except, I was still on the fourth stage. Depression, my therapist would say with a pitiful sigh.

Misery still choked me every morning as I swallowed down my breakfast and every minute of the day. While it wasn’t as heavy as guilt, the imbedded grief still festered pus like an untreated wound.

But it was the guilt…

Guilt was what killed me everyday.

Pain became my companion; grief was my nightmare and guilt turned out to be my soulmate.

“Julianna, you haven’t had your breakfast yet.”

I could feel her presence behind me but I didn’t turn away from the window. “I’m not hungry.”

Selene, our elderly maid and my only friend, made a sound in the back of her throat. “Your father–”

“He doesn’t need to know,” I said, my nails digging into my palms.

“Your sister–”

My lungs caved in, my body growing cold. “Stop. Don’t even finish that sentence.”

“Julianna.”

“Please, stop. Stop trying. Just take the food and leave.”

My shaky voice was followed by silence and then the door clicked close. Her presence disappeared and I was finally able to wallow in self-pity again.

My window overlooked the stables from behind our mansion. My father’s estate expanded many thousand acres, but this spot used to be my favorite view.

Except now, it was nothing but a bitter reminder.

How could our lives change so quickly in merely four months?

If only we hadn’t sneaked out…

If only I hadn’t been so stubborn…

If only I hadn’t been driving that night…

My hand came up, trembling as I touched the black veil. The thin fabric started from below my eyes and hid the rest of my face. I kept my black hair down, with bangs that I never had before, keeping my forehead covered. Only my eyes were visible.

I hear she’s ugly now, that’s why she hides behind the veil, the whispers would say.

It’s good she keeps it covered. I don’t want her to give me nightmares.

Beasty, some sneered.

The poor girl, others pitied.

The whispers didn’t hurt. In fact, they had little effect on me. I had learned to shut the world out while I surrounded myself with my own misery. Jolie, my therapist, said it wasn’t the right coping mechanism. She said I was making it harder on myself.

She said a lot of things, but none of them mattered.

My sister – Gracelynn – was still dead. Because of me.

And I was still here, alive and breathing when it should had been me in her place.

I still remembered her wide-open, dead eyes. I could still smell the unpleasant odor of metallic copper; our blood and sweat. I still saw her mangled face so vividly in my memories and every time I closed my eyes.

I was in that car with her dead body for three hours.

Three hours that felt like three extremely long days.

I passed out many times, regaining consciousness only to see her bloodied face again and again, while I screamed at her to breathe, to stay alive.

Gracelynn wasn’t wearing her seatbelt that night. The force of the impact, and when our car flipped, sent her flying through the windshield. Her screams still echoed in my ears. Her swollen, mangled face with glass shards lodged in her flesh was still seared in my brain.

Most days, I spent my time like this. Listlessly staring out the window, watching the sun rise and set, watching the day go by, turning into months.

It wasn’t like I could run away from my misery. No, I couldn’t even walk.

That accident took more from me than anyone would ever see.

***

Hours later, the door opened again, bringing me out of my thoughts. I was still rooted in the same spot as Selene left me this morning.

“I’m not hungry,” I said, already knowing who it was. Only two people were allowed in my room. Selene and my father.

My father rarely visited me.

And Selene was the only face I saw everyday. Her presence and the only human contact I had since I woke up from the coma and was brought back to my father’s estate, kept what was left of my sanity intact.

“The room smells like death and despair. Quite frankly, I approve.”

My eyes widened.

No.

My head swam and the collar of my sweater felt too tight.

What was he doing here?

Killian Spencer was the last person I expected to come into my room. The last time we saw each other…

Two months ago, when I visited my sister’s resting place, for the first time. He had been there before me and when I had turned to leave, he didn’t let me go without giving me a piece of his mind.

Cold voice.

Dark eyes.

Cruel words.

That was Killian Spencer. The new him.

“Julianna,” he sneered my name. I imagined him curling his lips in distaste.

“Before you say anything,” I started to warn him, but he spoke over me.

“Our fathers have arranged our marriage. It’s being finalized as we speak.”

I shut up and closed my eyes, holding back a desperate cry. He approached me from behind, his footsteps sounding closer. I could feel his body heat. I could smell his strong, spicy cologne. Unique and familiar.

My chest rattled when I exhaled a shaky breath. “You could have refused.”

From my peripheral vision, I saw his hands come up and he placed them over the handles of my wheelchair. For the first time, I realized how powerless I was against him. Weak and fragile.

He could easily hurt me.

And I would let him.

“You say this and yet you know how important this marriage is for both our families,” Killian mocked.

My fingers latched onto my silver, charm bracelet. With a frantic need, I used the sharp edge of the heart and dug it deep into my wrist. I winced and the pain made me think. Made me feel alive. “Is that the only reason why you agreed to this marriage?”

He bent forward, bringing his head closer to mine. I felt his breath against my ear. “You know very well what my reasons are.”

“You could just kill me,” I said. “Make it easy for both of us, don’t you think?”

“Why should you have an easy death?” The hatred in his voice was unmistakeable. “She died a cruel death, Julianna. And you will suffer a worse fate.”

There it was. This was the reason why we were poison together.

I killed his love and he wanted vengeance.

“Do you know what date today is?”

How could I forget?

Killian was still too close. His presence was suffocating. “She was supposed to walk down the aisle today,” he said, deadly and heartless. But I didn’t miss the pain and the longing in his voice.

Gracelynn would have been the prettiest bride ever. I closed my eyes and choked on the sob threatening to spill from my throat.

My sniffling filled the room and there was Killian’s dreadful silence. His silence was eerie and disturbing. Killian was deadlier than a viper, as he waited for the right moment to strike.

He moved around my wheelchair and stood in front of me. Dressed in all black, he was an imposing figure. I dragged my gaze up, from his polished leather shoes, up to his strong thighs, his wide chest and shoulders and then his face. Full lips, dark eyes and a glacial expression.

Our eyes met and he blinked, once, as if to shake the image of me from his brain. As if I was a ghost, haunting him.

Maybe I was.

Killian leaned against the window, his hands going to the sill as he crossed his ankles. He looked every bit the powerful and confident man he was. So devious, so in control, so cruel.

I fidgeted under his gaze, feeling so out of control while he was so contained.

“Two years.”

I blinked. “What?”

There was a tick in his left cheek, his muscles clenching, and his jaw hardened. Killian nodded at my legs – useless and frail. “Your father said it’ll take you a long time to walk again, if you ever will. With all the necessary therapy, he’s giving you two years.”

I swallowed. “Two years…?”

“Two years so you can walk down the aisle. Our wedding will be held on this day, two years from now.”

I knew this was coming. My father warned me beforehand – I’d have to take Gracelynn’s place at the altar – but I was still not prepared for this announcement.

“What if I can’t walk again?”

He grinned cruelly. “Then, I’ll drag you down the aisle, on your fucking knees, if I have to.”

I sucked in a shuddering breath. Killian stepped away from the window and bent forward, bringing his face closer to mine. I couldn’t even move. My wheelchair kept me in place. His breath feathered over my veil, right over my lips. “Listen to me very carefully. You will marry me; you will pay for your sins and you will die at my hands.”

He didn’t see that I was already paying for my mistakes.

Just like everyone else, Killian didn’t see me. They saw my veil. They saw my sin.

No one saw Julianna Romano anymore.

They didn’t see my remorse– or that my sister’s ghost haunted me.

My nails dug deeper into my palm, drawing blood. I lifted my chin up, matching his cold stare. “You’ve made yourself very clear, Killian Spencer.”

He chuckled at my show of I’m-not-scared-of-you-do-your-worst. It was a weak attempt at bravery, but I didn’t want him to think I was as powerless as he thought I was.

My life was already hell. But I still had some kind of control over what Killian could do to me, even though I deserved everything he said.

I should pay for my sin.

I should suffer.

I should die at his hands.

It was his right. After all, I killed his heart.

It would have been easy to say that Killian was the villain. But it was far from the truth. He was just another casualty of my mistakes and the end result of my sins.

I was the villain in this messy fairy tale.

His hand came up to my face and I flinched, expecting him to strike me, but he didn’t. Killian curled a finger around a strand of black hair and then pulled. Hard enough to burn my scalp. “I will break you, Julianna Romano.”

You can’t break what’s already broken.

I turned my face away, no longer able to look into his dark eyes. There was just something in them. Something that made me ache.

“You’ve said what you came here to say. You can leave now.”

Killian pulled back and strode away. I clutched my chest, bearing the pain that seemed to dig itself deeper under my flesh. It wasn’t just my heart that ached. It was my soul that was tormented.

“Oh right, I forgot to give you this.” He fished something out of his pocket and then carelessly threw it my way. It skidded on the shiny floor, a few feet away from my wheelchair.

“Your ring,” Killian said coldly, his voice dripping with venom. “Wear it. Happy engagement to us.”

After he was long gone, Selene came back. Without a word, she lifted the ring from the floor and handed it to me. I took it from her, staring at the extravagant diamond ring. The rock was huge and nothing like my personal taste. But then again, this wedding wasn’t about me and Killian could care less about my preferences.

It was heavy in my palm, but the weight was more than just the shiny diamond itself.

I loathed it.

And yet, I still wore it on my ring finger.

When my father came into my room much later, he smiled approvingly at the sight of my ring, patted me on the hand and then walked away without a word.

It was official.

Two years from now, I would be Killian’s wife.

This marriage was his vengeance – the vows would not be of love, but of hatred.

His retaliation. My atonement. One imperfect marriage.

Blurb:

An all-new standalone hate-to-love, arranged marriage romance with a TWIST from Lylah James.

“Once upon a time…”

Hate consumed him.

Love wrecked me.

That night changed both our lives, turning our beginning into something toxic. We were poison together and there was no antidote.

Our story began like any other fairy tale ended.

With a beautiful wedding.

One kiss.

Two rings.

Three vows.

Killian Spencer became my lawfully wedded husband and I, his dutiful wife.

But he was no Prince Charming. He didn’t come to save me… and he vowed there would be no happily ever after.

And me?

Just like the legends I'd read as a little girl, I always thought I’d be the princess in my fairy tale.

Well, I was the villain of our love story.

“Till death do us part…”

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savimauthor-blog · 7 years

Text

A Conversation Between Sheridan, Pixie Faerie & her author, Savannah Morgan

A little sneak peek at one of the exclusive posts on...

Saviland: My World, My Rules A Savannah Morgan Group Private Facebook Group

https://www.facebook.com/groups/741116226035481/ A Conversation Between Sheridan & Savannah January 16, 2017 “SHERIDAN!” ~Gulp~ “Yes, Miss Savannah.” She answers in a small voice. “We need to talk, little pixie. I’m a little put out with you.” “I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I’m really, really, really sowwy.” She lowers her head for a moment, before raising it again to look at me. She smiles her cheeky, cute smile. The one I have a seriously hard time resisting and staying mad at her when she uses it. And she uses it quite often to get her faerie butt out of trouble. But, I’m resolved today to really get on to her. “But I just wants it sooooooo badly.” “We’ve talked about this.” She lowers her eyes to floor. “I know. But I wants it.” “But we can’t always get what we want. You know that.” “But. But.” “No buts, young lady. You can’t be in every story Drake, Bear, and the Breeds are in.” “BUuuuuuttt.” I sigh. My resolve is weakening. I know, on some level, the pesky pixie will not stop until she gets her way. I wish Bear was here. He never gives into Sheridan. Ever! “Just…Pweeaase.” “Alright. I’ll make you a deal.” She claps her hands. The little heifer knows she’s won already. “We will leave it up to our friends here. If they say you should be in Legends of the Breeds, I’ll figure out some time traveling BS and make it happen. BUT, a consensus wins. Majority Rules. If they say you are in enough of the Breeds and Touch of the Irish stories then hands off, or mind off Legends. I need my sleep. And you pestering me while I’m trying to get some isn’t helping. Agreed?” She nods enthusiastically. Her small hands clasped together with the fingers intertwined as if she is about to pray, is a little too much for me, but it is Sheridan after all. Who knows, perhaps she is praying to some faerie goddess to win you over to her side. As if she would need it. “I will start.” She fluffs her dress and acts as if she is going to wait patiently, but I know this pain in the ass all too well and so I wait for it. And there it is. Under her breath, “Don’t you always.” I roll my eyes. Insolent little witch. “I no witch. I’m a faerie.” “You’re about to be a wingless faerie. Again. Remember, it was ultimately my decision to allow Aine to take your first set of wings. I can pluck the new ones just as easily.” “Meanie butt.” “Behave.” “Yes, ma’am.” She fluffs her skirts again then sits on the air like she is sitting in a chair, and crosses her legs. Demurely, she crossed her hands and places them on her knees. She’s good. I’ll give her that much. She can be as sweet as can be, but never underestimate her cunning, devious little mind. She winks at me. “It’s all yours, Miss Savannah, but I must beseech our friends to be nice to me in their decision making.” Ugh! As if all of you need her beseeching you to do anything. No matter what trouble that girl stirs up, you always love her. “Okay. Are you comfy?” She smiles and nods. “May I start now?” She smiles widely and nods her head more enthusiastically. She is such a ham. And a pain. But, always entertaining. “Okay, this is what happened.” “I’m ready.” “Sheridan, I’m talking now. You will get your chance in a minute.” “Sowwy.” I just bet you are. “Okay, this is what happened. I had been up late last night, actually, I’d been up all night long writing. It was 5 AM and I was exhausted after the marathon write I had, and was more than ready for a good 7-8 hours of sleep.” “She really did have a marathon writing session…Not that I was in much of it.” “Sheridan.” “Sowwy. Please continue.” “I think I was asleep before my head actually touched the pillow, but my mind was still very much into writing and it seemed all of my characters wanted a minute or two with me. I was having lovely dreams of Drake, Bear, Devin, Viktor, Duncan, Dominick, Grayson…” “Yeah, Yeah. We all knows you have all them hottie hard bodies to dream about. Get on with it.” “SHERIDAN!” She bats her eyelashes and smiles sweetly, “So sowwy.” I roll my eyes. “Where was I?” “Listing all them hot…” “Not another word or I swear I will gag you.” She sticks her tongue out at me. She knows I have absolutely no way to gag her. She also knows I really don’t want her gagged. She is such a source of amusement. “Now, where was I?” I cut my eyes to her and she makes a motion as if she is locking her mouth and tossing away the key. If only. “I was dreaming these lovely dreams. That was where I was.” “I was dreaming these wonderfully entertaining, and yes some hot, dreams, when suddenly I was in a thick copse of trees. I could see something moving back and forth, back and forth, through the heavily, overgrown foliage. Tentatively…” “HA!” “Sheridan!” I growl. “Sowwy.” “Tentatively, I make a window of the foliage, by spreading it apart gingerly, so I can see better what caught my eyes. There, on a swing made of vines and covered in a vibrant array of flowers sat a tiny creature swinging back and forth, back and forth, laughing and giggling and humming.” “It was me. And, I do likes to sing.” She looked at me. “What? It’s true. AND, and, and, YOU never tell them much about me the person.” “Sheridan, please.” I’m growing weary. “Oh-Kay” She begins to pout. I let her. “The tiny creature was humming and having a rather enjoyable time swinging. I ask:” “Who are you? What are you doing here?” “I have permission. My friend told me I could swing ANY time I wants.” Sheridan, I should have known. “Sheridan, what are doing at Drake’s Legends of the Breeds Lair.” “Swingin’ and a singin’” “Yes, but aren’t you supposed to be grounded at the modern day Lair. Didn’t Bear tell you, you weren’t supposed to leave the Dragon’s Lair in the 21st century.” “Yeah, yeah.” She kicks her legs out as she leans back to swing higher, “But, what the Old-As-Dirt-Grouchy-Bear doesn’t know, doesn’t hurt ME.” She states in her bizarre insolent/sing-song voice. “I’m not so sure about that. Bear was pretty angry with you last time I talked to him.” “He’s being a PITA.” I have to chuckle. If anyone of us is a pain-in-the-ass it is the pixie flying on a flower covered vine swing. “Okay, Sheridan, why are you here? What do you want?” “Why do I have to wants somethin’?” “Because it is you, and you always want something.” “You’re mean today.” “I’m honest today, as I am every day. So spill it, little pixie. What do you want from me now?” In a flash she was off the swing and flying straight at me. If she had tires and was on dirt you could have heard them screech to a stop when she was an inch from my nose. I’m used to this from her, and didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Nice trick.” “True. True.” “So, what is it?” “I wants to be in Legends of the Breeds. I needs to be in that story.” She taps me on the forehead with her tiny little finger. “YOU NEEDS me in that story.” I begin to shake my head ‘No’. “I can’t do it, Sheridan. We’ve discussed this already. You aren’t old enough to be in that story.” “Why? There ain’t no nekkid humans. Or gods. Or shifters. Or dragons. Or Bears. You promised this one wouldn’t have none of that sexy stuffs in it. BTW, I thinks that’s a HUMONGOUS MISTAKE. Everyones loves the sexy stuffs.” I roll my eyes. “It’s not that kind of story. We’ve had this discussion as well.” I have to smile. “You’re such a horn-dog.” “Not Trues. I just loves them sexy, beasty, shifter types.” She nearly swoons as she clasps her hands together and places them over her heart. “You are such a drama queen.” I chuckle. “I’m really sorry, Sheridan. But the answer has to be no. You just aren’t old enough, hon. I wish you were. I could really use you in the story. But, there isn’t any reason for you to be there, and I have no idea how I would explain your presence when you are so very young, and it has been established that Drake is alone all this time.” “But. But.” “No buts, Sheridan. I’m sorry. I just can’t do it. The answer is a hard no.” She stomps her foot on the air she is hovering on. “You are so mean! And quite rude.” She opens her hand and blows on her palm, blowing pixie dust in my face. “Be Gone!” And suddenly I was both laughing and tad angry, but also awake. I look at the clock beside my bed and realize, I didn’t get my 7-8 hours of much needed sleep. I’d only had 5 and ½ hours of sleep. “Sheridan!” I growl. ‘You shouldn’t be so mean to me. If you were nicer, I’s have lets you sleep longer.’ So there you have it friends. That is how I was awakened this morning. “Sheridan?” “Yes ‘am?” “Do you have anything to add?” “Not too much. Yous is honest. Yous always honest. I would just like to add, I NEEDS TO BE IN THAT STORY!” And there you have it folks. This is what it’s like living with a sometimes sweet, mostly bratty, pain in the ass, but always entertaining pixie. Should I find a way to add her to Legends of the Breeds. Or, which makes more sense, should I leave it like it is without her being there until she arrives in the human world to help Candice? I leave it up to you. “Pwease. Pwease. Pwease. Pwease, let me be in it.” “Good bye, Sheridan.” “Good bye, Miss Savannah. Huggies and Luvies.” “Yes, I love you too, my cute little PITA.” She sticks her tongue out at me again, “Meanie Writer!” She disappears in a flash. So typical of her. She always has to have the last word in our discussions. I leave it in your hands. Should Sheridan be in Legends of the Breeds? All Rights Reserved Sheridan is a Copyrighted Character in the Touch of the Irish and Breeds series. Savannah Morgan January 2017

#SaviM #free #reading #paranormal #faerie

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writer59january13 · 1 year

Text

Please help yarn hexed door neighbor...

Yours truly pinned down by invisible

vestiges of coronavirus and

getting attacked from angry plague

of buttons, plus huge spools of yarn

grossly mistook me for human sock

to seal and line with something foreign

sewing lips impossible mission

even to force out

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

(even ventriloquist like) argh gosh darn

smarting with horse sense Equus caballus hilariously snorting cuz door left ajar

allowing, enabling, and

providing exit from out the barn.

H. Ty Warner's

ingenious imaginative creations (a craze that swept America circa second half of ninety nineties - and furious at their worthlessness today)

hungry carnivorous, ferocious,

insidious, ludicrous, opprobrious...

anything but innocent looking playthings, where sharp hairs

bristle, kindle, and ruffle and upper and lower sharp teeth engage

abandoned beanie baby brood

massive collections spouse accrued, when said toys all the rage uttered courtesy buttoned down sage at auction in two thousand twenty two

might look as small fortune

worth a few thousand dollars no matter adamantly refuse being sold to highest bidder.

Beanie Babies from exclusive events,

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Overrun livingsocial hotmail

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bright idea of zee missus aye air

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becoming subjected to she/her addressed as gaseous spouse

id est "my little buttock blaster” dear

surviving kin who ranks holy smokes - for obvious reasons,

and before she begat two 'ere rip press ably lovely daughters),

anyway thee wife I fear to publicize, she contracted

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to this knit wit – if anyone kin hear ring house cleaning malady, thus far no unpronounceable hair who offers chance to jeer

wag middle finger quite visibly near

heck – even call

guardian angel on wing and prayer

or rumplestiltskin with tiny

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help rescue me,

who will button his lips I swear

with duct tape and mouth sealed

with ropy hemp

painstakingly made courtesy

“I hate boys” under wear

now quick travel back

in time from this year.

Come breathe with Justin,

he sports nuff timber alive

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shedding gun metal gray

filled stack of hay

winter coat when

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necessitates impossible task

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