#edit: changed it a little for zest

[yellowfingcr]

plumage

#doodlings / #er au #blood cw #girls just wanna have fun etc #no eye scars in this one because I Say So. #edit: changed it a little for zest

[ladyhoneydee]

30 Day Song(fic) Challenge: Day 2

I really thought I was going to fail this challenge on Day 2 when my creative juices ran out this afternoon, but I had a midnight rush to the finish line, so here I am! It's before midnight somewhere, right?

Today’s fic for my homebrew Song(fic) Challenge is for the prompt “a song that makes you smile no matter what”. I went for a more recent edition to my musical repertoire: "Mellow" by Keina Suda--which you may know better as the OP from the summer 2023 anime "Skip to Loafer"! The dance in the original OP always got me smiling when watching the anime, and so the song does too. And when I looked at the English lyrics for the first time today, I just knew that it had to be SkSw zelink.

Blue and Yellow

Game: Skyward Sword, both pre- and post-canon

Pairing: Zelink

Word Count: 1271

Keywords: healing, love realization, fluff

He knew, suddenly, that he was in love. So deeply in love that his heart might overflow with it, that his feelings might splash all over the bank of Lake Floria and mix with its cerulean currents in a proliferation of life. In the warmest of blues.

Read the fic on Ao3 or under the cut!

The first time Link met Zelda, he had thought she was completely yellow. From behind—to his four-year-old eyes—the blonde of her hair was the same shade as her buttercup-colored dress. And then she’d turned around, and he’d been blinded by the golden sunshine of her smile. It wasn’t until he’d gone home to his parents that he recalled through the starburst afterimages her beaming grin had left in his vision that her skin was peachy, like his, and her eyes were blue. Still, when he looked at her, all he saw was gold. 

The year he’d turned eight—overlapping with his best friend for a glorious three months—everything changed. The adults told him it was the flu, but the flu had never stolen almost one person from every house before. One from Zelda’s. And two from his. 

The world had gone cold. The loss of his parents left him achy and tired; the placement in Fledge’s house with his two surviving parents and older siblings and pet remlit—why did Fledge get to keep all of them? it wasn’t fair—sharpened the few words he did speak like a knife, until he stopped using them at all. Even when he went to Zelda, seeking the yellow warmth of her zest for life, she had turned blue too. She had no smile to bestow upon him. She had no words that could help him, either. And so the children that had always chattered brightly sat together in gloaming indigo silence. 

He couldn’t pinpoint the moment the colors began to shift. At one point, Zelda was overcome with the red of anger, and he’d never been so scared for her before. He himself fought daily against the choking haze of emerald envy. But as months passed, and then years, all the colors began to lighten to a bearable pastel, shot through with that long-missed yellow. 

Laughter began to break through the silence again. Zelda’s first, and the sound had been so shocking that the impact of it against his eardrums sent him physically staggering back. And his own followed a moment later, swooping from his throat like a loftwing. He’d thought it would be raspy and strangled, but it was the same as always, and the surprise on his face made ten-year-old Zelda point and laugh, and he found himself—as always—tumbling after her. 

He always stayed a little more blue and green than she did. She always beamed more yellow and pinkish-red than he would ever muster. But, as Groselle once explained in an art class—their different colors were still complementary. And Zelda always reminded him of the beautiful things that were blue, too: the lake they splashed in during the hottest days; the berries they stole from the bushes near the pumpkin patches; the beetles he dared her to lick; the open sky they soared in side-by-side. 

He came to accept his blue, and the way it made the yellow he felt in her company feel even brighter. 

Of course, he didn’t have that much time to bask in it. The tornado. The quest. His introduction to the world of red red red at last, through the blood he spilled and the blood he lost and the blood-boiling rage he felt when Ghirahim dared threaten her. 

When it was all over, they’d switched places. Zelda was once again a mottled blue, bruised from the loss of another beloved companion and protector, no matter how she tried to hide it under feigned interest in the Surface. Link was still stained all over with the red he pushed away and clung to in turn. Once again, they clutched one another in silence, hands grasping for the other’s shirts and hands and memories. 

Until, one day, they began to talk. 

“Can you wash the knife? I don’t feel comfortable holding it, after…everything.”

“Of course I can, Link. Is it…because of what you went through? The violence?”

“...no. It’s… No blade feels right in my hand, anymore. They’re not Fi.”

A comforting touch on his shoulder, despite the wetness of her palm that soaked his simple shirt. “She’ll make her way back to you someday. Even if it’s in the far future.”

And he knew she would. Demise’s curse would make sure of that. They would be stuck repeating these fleeting moments of joy within an immense future of heartache. And yet…

Just like they had when Link was a child, the colors began to lighten, and the skies began to brighten. His red washed through with the familiar blue more and more, but he found he preferred it. Anger had made him strong, once, when he needed to be little more than an extension of his blade—but now, he wanted to accept his weakness. Now that he had someone by his side once more to help hold him up when his knees buckled, and would allow him to steady her in return. 

Springtime on the Surface was bright sun, strong breeze, the sound of birds. He’d woken that morning to a note on the pillow beside him. 

Come find me, sleepyhead! You get one hint: the true blue banks.

He trekked to the shores of Lake Floria with an endeared, indulgent smile on his face, and some pastries brought down from Piper’s restaurant in his satchel. The air was warmer here, with the heat sink of the waters having kept the weather in the area more mild, and he lifted the simple knitted cap—his best work was still ugly as a bokoblin’s mug, but Zelda had been so excited for him upon its completion that he smiled every time he grabbed it from their hat rack—he’d taken to wearing on cold days off of his head and stuffed it into his satchel as well. His hair immediately blew into his face. Unlike frustrations of flights long-past when he’d just started learning, the distraction was amusing and nostalgic to him now.

He turned the corner. And there she stood.

Yellow. In the sunlight in her spun-gold hair. In the open curiosity of her gaze as she gently fingered the petals of a freshly-blossomed flower. In the sundress she wore, so like the one he’d met her in. In the bright, peaceful happiness illuminating her like a dandelion halo. 

For a moment, it was all he could do to stand there and stare at her. He’d always known she was beautiful, inside and out, but there was something about her hair in the wind, free as a bird…the perfect curve of her pink lips…the curve of her upturned face as she sought the warmth of the sun…

Oh.

He knew, suddenly, that he was in love. So deeply in love that his heart might overflow with it, that his feelings might splash all over the bank of Lake Floria and mix with its cerulean currents in a proliferation of life. In the warmest of blues. 

He called her name—her name, not the hand-me-down from the goddess of their people—and she turned, smile overtaking her whole face. She waved excitedly, and began to call a greeting.

But he was racing across the clearing already, springing haphazardly over patches of flowers in his way so he and Zelda could admire them later, thudding heart like a loftwing’s wingbeats in his throat. He opened his arms so she could see what was coming—he saw her widened eyes curve into affectionate half-moons and her own arms raise—

And he crashed into her embrace, feeling a soul-rending rightness like never before as her warmth encompassed his entire being.

They were the sun and the sky. 

“Good morning,” he whispered. “I love you.”

#loz #zelink #my fanfiction #fanfic #skyward sword #sksw zelink #30 day song(fic) challenge

[fific7]

White Wedding Pt 4

Logan Delos x Reader

A/N: Alpha/Omega/Soulmate AU, based on Billy Idol’s song of the same name. This does not follow canon, it’s mainly Logan lemon zest 🍋 because the world always needs more Logan.

Summary: James has agreed to retire, leaving Logan and Juliet in charge of Delos. But there is one major condition attached… will Logan find it to be a deal-breaker?

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults*. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please use protection, let’s be careful out there.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(My Photo Edit)

Hey little sister, what have you done

Hey little sister, who's the only one

I've been away for so long (so long)

I've been away for so long (so long)

I let you go for so long

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You looked back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, nervously pulling at and then smoothing down your long hair as you stalled for time. You didn’t really know why you were nervous. Logan had been a perfect gentleman, saying he’d come through to the bedroom once all your nighttime routines were done. Kindly giving you space, not putting pressure on you. Which was fine by you.

Oh who were you kidding, you thought. Logan was hot. So hot. And he was your husband. You’d also seen the way Logan looked at you as if you were made of spun gold. The desire in his eyes, his parted lips, tongue running over his full bottom lip. He was a big sexual Dark Alpha but after you realised that he really was going to hold back for now, you’d decided to take the bull by the horns. Literally.

So much had happened in the space of two days. This was now late evening of the day after he’d brought you to his home. His new wife. But he wasn’t gonna touch you because he didn’t want to scare you, all because you were a virgin. Well, fuck that, Logan Delos. So you hadn’t taken your inhibitor today.

You eventually tiptoed out into the bedroom and realising that Logan wasn’t there yet, quickly stripped off your sleepwear and laid yourself out on top of the bed like an offering to the gods. The sex gods, of course. You heard bare feet padding towards the room and held your breath but forced yourself to keep your eyes open, as you wanted to watch his reaction.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan strolled into the bedroom and - if he’d been in a car, he’d have slammed on the brakes. Instead, he came to a dead halt at the foot of the bed, his mouth gaping open like he was catching flies.

Beautiful long hair spread out on the pillows. And she was naked. Like, completely naked. Lying on his bed… no, their bed. Spread out for him. He was aware that he’d closed up his loose mouth somewhat but was now desperately trying to suck air into his lungs. His face was burning. His dick was totally hard. His brain sent out an SOS, Oh no. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Somebody help me. Please.

He turned and ran out of the room.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were absolutely amazed. Logan… the infamous ‘big bad Logan Delos’, the Player Supreme… had run away from you.

No, you weren’t letting this pass without taking some kind of action.

So you got up off the bed and put your sleepwear back on, then followed Logan’s flight path and eventually found him on one of the decks, leaning on the rail with his head drooping downwards.

“Logan?” you said softly, and a little groan escaped his lips. He wouldn’t look at you though, just said in a husky voice, “Yeah, angel?”

“Come to bed.” You reached across and took one of his hands, pulling at him to follow you. You felt resistance and of course, you were no match for him.

“No, I…I can’t. I can’t control myself around you…. and I have to.”

“Logan, I’m your wife. And I want you.“ Another groan, “No. No, I can’t, I’ll destroy you.”

Oh fuck this, you thought. He’s treating me as if I’m some kind of fragile little flower.

He’d changed into grey sweatpants earlier on, worn low on his hips, with a white t-shirt showing off his broad shoulders and lean, athletic body. Your eyes lingered on the noticeable bulge at his crotch. That is some package he’s hiding down there, you thought. Then you realised that the head of his cock was in fact peeking out over his waistband. You licked your lips, dropped his hand as if it was on fire and shoved your hand down his sweatpants.

Leaping backwards as if you’d poured boiling water over him, Logan stumbled over a lounger and fell onto his back on the deck. So you jumped on top of him and shoved his sweatpants down to mid-thigh, one sole target in mind. He had no underwear on and his big, beautiful cock leapt up at you, standing to attention against his abdomen. You grabbed at it, sliding your hand around it, stroking it, squeezing gently, and his hips immediately jolted upwards. You’d never had a cock in your hand before and you wondered how the skin could feel so, so soft yet have pure steel beneath it.

“NO!” gasped Logan, suddenly struggling and attempting to pull his sweatpants back up, while at the same time trying to push his cock down and inside them. It just wasn’t happening, though.

“YES!” you snarled, “I want it, Logan. I want that big dick of yours. Right now!” You’d lost your grip on it during the struggle and tried to grab it again but he blocked your hand with his thigh.

He’d given up struggling by now and was just lying still on the deck, panting. You leant down and whispered into his ear, “You are my husband. And I’m just going to keep on saying it - I want that cock of yours!” You determinedly burrowed one hand underneath his cock-blocking thigh and got just your fingertips onto the object of your desire, dragging them insistently along the skin within your reach. Your insistent voice kept up the rhythm, “I want your dick!”

He said nothing for a while, just lay there, opening then closing his eyes each time you ran your fingertips along his dick. Then his shoulders sagged in defeat and he gave in, whispering, “Okay, okay… just a blow job, though. No fucking.”

You smirked, “We’ll just see, shall we?”

You climbed off him, telling him to get up and take his sweatpants fully off. You pulled the back of the lounger to fully vertical and folded the bottom section right down, then you made him sit down on it. Logan was gazing at you, looking like he was a bit spaced out. You stood there for a moment, staring at that glorious erection of his standing up proud from his body, then got down on your knees between his legs. Placing your hands on his thighs, you felt his muscles tense up as you leant in and firmly licked right round the head of his cock, before raining kisses down on it. Precum was already leaking from his slit and now you had your chance to taste him, lapping it up, savouring the saltiness, the muskiness of him. Logan let out a series of long, low groans, and you dragged your tongue along the underside of his length from base to tip, then licked and kissed underneath the head.

Lifting one hand off his thigh, you reached down and cupped his balls, squeezing gently and running your thumb back onto the sensitive skin just behind his sac. Logan’s hips jerked upwards and then you began taking his length into your mouth, feeding it in further and further until you felt yourself gag slightly, but then after a beat where you relaxed as much as you could, you took it deeper. Then you began sucking him off in earnest, just like you’d seen all those women do on the porn videos. Logan was making small thrusting movements beneath you, a string of low moans escaping his mouth. Your other hand came off his thigh and you circled the base of his dick, massaging the soft skin there while continuing the gentle friction on his balls all the while licking, teasing and nipping gently at his shaft.

You began concentrating on the head of his cock and when you gave a firm lick around it and then one to his slit, his whole body tensed up and you felt the warmth of his come in your throat, swallowing each surge as it left him, hearing the long, guttural growl from deep in his throat as he climaxed.

You’d enjoyed every second. You’d often wondered what a real blow job would be like, and you were glad that your first had been with Logan. This strong, sexy man might be a Dark Alpha, but you’d been the one in control tonight.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan lay there after he’d come, panting like he’d run a marathon at sprinting speed.

He’d seriously never had a blow job like it and that was saying something, given his history. And this from a virgin. He couldn’t believe it. He’d been watching her as she blew him, fascinated, focussing on the sight of her lips around his cock and everything she was doing to him.

She’d hit every one of his sweet spots, she’d done every single thing he liked and all at the same time. Others never had, they’d always missed something or more usually, several somethings. He’d never come so hard when he’d been sucked off before.

If he could’ve ordered a bespoke blow job, that would’ve been it.

When he could speak, knowing his voice sounded weak, he asked, “Exactly how many of those blow job videos did you watch?” She gave a low, sexy laugh, “Many. And I watched them over and over. And I practised on bananas. I ate a lot of bananas.” He grinned, blowing out a long breath, “Well, I have to say that was incredible. The best I’ve ever had.” Again she laughed, “And I’m guessing you’ve had - shall we say - rather a lot? So I should feel honoured to receive such an accolade, should I?” “Too many to count, I’m sorry to say. But yeah… never one like that. So it definitely is a well-deserved accolade, yes.”

He watched her cheeks pink up, and she looked down, saying shyly, “Well, I’m here to please my husband so I’m glad that I have pleased you. I’ll make sure every blow job I give you is the same… or even better.”

Smiling, he said, “That is music to my ears, angel. But where was this sweet shy girl I see before me now, earlier on when someone was demanding I give them my dick?” She burst out laughing, “I guess that was must’ve been this highly sexed persona I keep getting told I’ve got.”

She leant forward and whispered in his ear, “And I still want your dick.”

Logan groaned loudly.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You had really enjoyed seeing how wrecked Logan had been after you blew him. He’d lain on that lounger for a full 10 minutes before he’d attempted to get up.

Removing your lips from his shaft after he’d come, you’d studied his handsome face and he’d been looking at you like you were some ethereal being from another planet.

Now you decided to put the next part of your plan into action. You’d thoroughly enjoyed blowing Logan… and had decided you’d be doing so very frequently in future… but as you’d told him numerous times, now you wanted that dick of his. Properly wanted it. Inside you. But you knew that if you just jumped him again, he’d probably lock himself in one of the guest rooms, what with his misguided belief that you were totally fragile or something.

Thanks to the porn videos, you knew exactly what fucking entailed. Something you did have to thank LPV for, you supposed. You weren’t some kind of virginal child who had to be protected and kept under glass, and you had to make Logan see that. But firstly, you would play the virginal role he seemed to have envisioned for you in his mind, lull him into a false sense of security… and then you would pounce on him.

You smiled to yourself. This was the second day you hadn’t taken your inhibitors. Say hello to your highly-sexed alter ego! You could feel that needful feeling steadily building in you. Your husband didn’t seem to have 100% got his Dark Alpha mojo back, so you’d dominate him every chance you got right now.

Logan Delos wouldn’t know what hit him.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Relieved that - despite what she’d said to him - his new wife seemed to be sated after she blew him, he obediently followed her back to the master bedroom when she said she was going to bed.

She did however strip off her sleepwear and demand that he did so too. “We should sleep naked, Logan,” she smiled with a shy look on her face, “I mean we’ll be properly sleeping together soon, so we may as well get used to it.”

He’d still hesitated, stripping off his t-shirt but leaving his sweatpants on. She was already in bed under the covers and pointed at the sweatpants, “Take them off, Logan. Or… are you chicken?” He smirked, “No, angel… that’s the last thing I am,” and he dropped them, stepping out of them before leaping under the covers and hoping she hadn’t noticed he had another hard-on already.

She turned over on her side, saying, “Sweet dreams, husband of mine.” His face flushed and he was grateful it was dark, that was what he’d said to her after he’d sneakily tasted her again when he thought she was asleep. He turned onto his side too but avoided spooning with her as that was too risky in his aroused state.

“Are you okay with being married to me?” he questioned her, “Like… do you find me attractive?” Trust that big male ego of his to wanna make sure it got stroked too as well as his dick. She yawned, “Oh yes, Logan. While as you know I’m very unhappy with LPV, I’m very happy that you’re my husband. Yes, I find you attractive. You’re hot, Logan. And you have a gorgeous big dick.”

He knew he had a huge smirk on his face, and his ego preened itself like a peacock. “Well.. thank you. I’m very happy you’re my wife too. And I want you to know this is not just an arranged marriage to me, like you said. This is the real deal. My dad might’ve thought he was kind of arranging a marriage for me due to the very short time limit I had to fulfil it, but it couldn’t have worked out better as far as I’m concerned. I think you are absolutely gorgeous, angel. You already know I wanna fuck you but I hope you appreciate that I’m just trying to protect you by taking things slow.”

She said demurely, “Yes, I realise that, Logan and thank you. Being a virgin has been important to me up till now, but I’m ready for you to take it from me. And thank you for saying it’s more than just an arrangement to you.”

Logan smiled, “I’m just being honest. But listen… when we do fuck, angel, I’ll claim you. Do you know what happens when I do that?” She shook her head, “I mean, of course I know what it means to be claimed or unclaimed, but not how you get to be claimed.” “OK, then… well, during sex I’ll bite a certain area on your right shoulder. Your skin will show a round mark there, and that means you’ve been claimed.” He paused, uncertain whether to go on but then said, “I don’t know if you’ve heard of knotting…?” “Nope, I haven’t heard of it. What does that mean?”

He sighed, this was getting into dangerously intimate sex-talk territory. “Knotting happens when an Alpha’s dick is fully sheathed in the Omega. The base of his cock expands until it’s literally plumbed into her pussy, sealing it off, and there is no way for the Alpha to pull out until they’ve had sex for literally hours. Only then does his cock soften. It’s to help guarantee procreation. Dark Alphas knot less than other Alphas as we have sex outside of our ruts, so it’s not as crucial.” He saw that her face had flushed, and she was running her tongue over her lips. She said, “Ah, okay, I understand. That sounds… very intense. So do you only knot when you’re in your rut, Logan? And how many times have you knotted?”

Logan shook his head, “I’ve never ever knotted so far… as I said, Dark Alphas knot way less than others. And yes, we only knot during our rut. Oh.. and only with our soulmates, I don’t think I mentioned that. That’s how we know we’ve found them in fact - knotting is involuntary, it isn’t something we can make happen ourselves.”

“Ohhh.. I see. Okay, that’s interesting to know. But even if I’m not your soulmate, you would still claim me?” “Angel, the first time we fuck I’ll be claiming you, don’t you worry. Apart from satisfying my male ego, it will also keep you safe. Once I’ve claimed you, we can go out and about in the mainstream. Until then it’s too dangerous for you. Once you’ve been claimed, no other Alpha can interact in any way with you. You’re off limits.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Leaving aside your designs on getting into Logan’s pants, so to speak, his words about claiming made you feel very safe and secure. It’s what you thought you’d provided for yourself at LPV… but you’d been sadly mistaken about that.

You wondered if you should in fact get some rest and jump him in the morning when he really wasn’t expecting it? That may in fact be the better plan.

“Thank you, Logan,” you sighed, “you don’t know how happy and safe that makes me feel.” You turned back towards him and kissed his lips. You felt Logan freeze and smiled to yourself, okay well you could have a little fun at his expense perhaps… you broke away then leant in and licked his bottom lip, before fastening onto his top lip and sucking at his ‘tache.

Logan shot backwards as if you’d electrocuted him. “Ummm!… ‘night, angel. Sleep well, sweet dreams.” “Night, Logan,” you said in a demure tone, turning back and lying down, all the while giggling inwardly to yourself.

The big bad wolf was actually turning out to be a cute little puppy as far as you were concerned.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan awoke to a hand on his dick, rubbing and squeezing and stroking him. He’d been semi-hard when she started working him, but he could feel himself stiffening more and more as the seconds ticked by. He tried to roll away from her onslaught on his cock and also her other hand which was between his legs, squeezing his balls. He landed on his back but she was instantly on top of him.

“Good morning, Logan,” she breathed in his ear, kissing it as she did. Without further delay she guided him between her legs and sank down onto him. She gasped loudly, her eyes screwed closed. Logan desperately tried to pull out but she was gripping him firmly at his base and pushed herself down even further onto his cock. She gave a low moan once he was fully sheathed in her, keeping her hand on his balls behind her as she began moving on him.

“Noooo!” groaned Logan, closing his eyes, “This wasn’t supposed to happen!” Her amazing eyes appeared, gazing at him as he reopened his. “Yes… it was! I told you, Logan. I want this. I’m not some fragile little creature to be protected at all costs!” Logan tried to pull out again but she wasn’t having any of it, keeping him inside her and sliding up and down, up and down on his cock, like she’d done it a million times before.

His head went back, and he couldn’t stop himself letting out a low growl as she rode him like he was a show pony. “Please… stop..” pleaded Logan. She wouldn’t though, just kept going until his muscles were screaming with the effort of trying not to come. The way she was moving fast on him combined with how her tight little pussy was gripping onto him was threatening to push him right over the edge. Another groan escaped his lips, he couldn’t hold on much longer.

He reached out and pulled her right shoulder down to his mouth. He’d better claim her before it was too late. His teeth sank into her flesh and he kept them pinned there until he felt himself shoot his load. He laid his head back down on the pillows, gasping for breath, then looked up at her and the red circle glowing on her shoulder.

“You’re claimed,” he whispered, fingers running over the mark.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A few minutes later, you pulled off Logan and clambered over his prone body, stopping briefly to look down at him as he lay there, his chest rising and falling rapidly, covering his eyes with an arm thrown across them. You smiled triumphantly, pleased with how your Plan B had totally worked out, then becoming a bit overwhelmed when you realised that this glorious specimen of a man was actually yours. Your husband in fact. You were married to him. This marriage thing was going to be okay after all, you decided. Fucking him had been absolutely divine. And happily, you were no longer a virgin. He’d been your first, even though it had been your move, not his.

Heading to the en suite, you did your business, brushed your teeth then gazed in the mirror at the almost luminous red mark on your shoulder. It didn’t show his teeth marks as such, but it had formed itself into a circle, with a kind of dot-dash pattern to it. You also ran your fingers over it, just like he’d done.

Claimed. Logan had claimed you. You were safe.

Heading back into the bedroom, you saw that Logan had propped himself up against the pillows, still naked but he hadn’t bothered covering himself up. You noticed he had a sulky look on his face and he glanced up at you, his eyes unreadable dark pools, “You were just fucking determined, weren’t you?” He wasn’t smiling. You laid yourself down next to him, running your fingertips through the sprinkling of hair between his pecs. Just perfect, in your opinion. You ran your fingers up to his jawline, tracing the strong, sharp line of it. Then your hand made its way to his money trail, feeling his muscles tense as you scratched your fingertips through it before you lightly ran them down onto his resting cock, and stroked up and down. His mouth tightened into a line as he clenched his jaw.

“Yes, Logan, I was,” you glared defiantly at him, “and I’m not sorry I did. I told you I wanted you. That I wanted your dick. And you weren’t doing anything about it so I had to make the move. So sue me! I’m sure you’ve been told I’m not as submissive as some Omegas.”

You saw a fleeting grin on his lips, “Yes, I was told that. By your favourite CEO. And I can handle you, angel, believe me. But you are supposed to obey me, aren’t you? - so don’t stray too far into acting all defiant. It’ll have consequences. Just sayin’.”

He turned his head and gazed into your eyes, his espresso eyes now softening, “And I should mention… I need to claim you on a regular basis to ensure it keeps on keeping you safe. It’s not the same as a Soulmark, which is immediately etched on you and is a one-time thing. If I don’t keep on claiming you, the mark will fade. So to be on the safe side, I’ll claim you every time we fuck. And, little lady, seeing as how you just popped your own cherry and used me to do it, all bets are off. Watch your back.” His eyes flashed pure fire at you for a split second and you saw all that Dark Alpha power and strength in him, in that one moment.

A delicious thrill of sheer anticipation ran right up your spine.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan was busy making brunch in the kitchen. That little minx, he thought to himself, smiling despite his irritation that she’d ambushed him.

She didn’t realise what she’d unleashed in him. His cock was hard and he felt desire coursing through his veins. As he squeezed oranges through the juicer all he could think about was taking her. On his terms this time.

She’d learn just what a Dark Alpha was like when he was all fired up, and very soon.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were dozing in the bed when Logan came through with the loaded tray. He placed it on the bed between you and got back under the sheets, his eyes immediately gazing at your uncovered breasts. You’d deliberately stayed naked, interested to know what form his threatened ‘consequences’ would take, as you’d defied him by jumping him.

His hand went out and he cupped one of your breasts, thumb rubbing firmly over your nipple. A hit of pleasure zipped from there right to your pussy. His eyes closed but he suddenly removed his hand and began pouring out the OJ as if nothing had happened. But you could just tell, there was a different vibe about him since you’d jumped him. A hint of something dark and dangerous.

Once you’d both eaten and drank, Logan suggested that you two go for a walk on the beach. Excited, like a little kid, you’d leapt out of bed and had showered and dressed in shorts and a cute little top in no time. Back out in the bedroom, there was no sign of Logan so you walked through into the living/kitchen area… no sign of him. Heading back to the bedroom, there was still no sign of him.

But then someone grabbed you and you were thrown down onto the bed. Although you couldn’t see him, being face down, you could smell Logan’s cologne so thankfully this was no scary random intruder. However when he flipped you over, Logan looked down at you with such an intent and predatory gaze you almost recoiled. Oh woah, okay… Dark Alpha in the house.

He roughly stripped off your clothes and his hand went between your legs, one finger then a second pushing into your pussy and moving rapidly in and out of you. His thumb rubbed at your clit and then suddenly, it all stopped. He’d already sparked a wave of pleasure in you and your mouth opened, a whine of protest issuing forth. However that soon morphed into an all-out cry as Logan rammed his cock into you a second later without warning.

He turned into a hungry, powerful sexual animal from that point forward.

Hands all over you, tongue everywhere, teeth nipping at you, kissing you frantically… all as he fucked into you with superhuman strength and energy, moving you further and further and further up the bed with every huge thrust. His thumb was back at your clit, rubbing furiously and his tongue licked your claim mark before he sank his teeth into it once more. You couldn’t stop the moans of pleasure which fell from your lips as he kept going, and going, and going. Will he ever stop? you wondered as your orgasm built and then rolled over you. You felt him give three short, jerky thrusts and he unloaded into you, feeling his warmth inside you and spilling out onto your thighs.

Logan pulled out, getting up and standing over you in all his naked glory, his cock glistening and still semi-hard.

“I warned you,” he growled, low and husky, before turning and stalking out of the bedroom.

The bedroom door slammed and you heard the lock click as it did.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You stumbled into the shower, hours later, almost unable to walk. You leaned against the wall for support as you soaped your aching body, gently smoothing the shower gel over your sensitive pussy. You looked down in disbelief at the bruises and teeth marks on various areas of your skin. Your claim mark glowed an incandescent red on your shoulder.

Logan had locked you in the bedroom all day and had been back to ravish you four - or was it five? - times after his initial attack. He was right… he had almost destroyed you.

But god, did you enjoy it. His roughness excited you. His obvious desire for you was flattering in itself, and although he was now totally the dominant one in bed, the realisation that you had sparked this renaissance in his libido was frankly empowering.

He was such a sexual being. There was absolutely no sign of the ‘cute little puppy’ you thought you’d seen to begin with. And as this was now day three of no inhibitors, he was exactly what you needed. And desired.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan set the table on the largest deck, before going back and checking on the pasta simmering away on the cooker. Hmmm, another few minutes or so.

He headed to the master bedroom and unlocked it, popping his head round the door and seeing her curled up asleep on the bed in her sleepwear. “Angel,” he called out, his cock hardening as usual every time he saw or thought about her. Her eyes opened sleepily, and she looked towards him warily. He knew she was wondering if he was going to fuck her again, but he’d decided he’d better give her a respite and also some food.

“Come and eat,” he said, and she obediently got up and trailed after him as he led her out to the deck.

He served the pasta and clams, poured her some white wine and opened a beer for himself, sitting down opposite her. She sipped her wine, and took a mouthful of pasta, “This is nice, Logan,” she said meekly. He put his hand over hers, “How are you feeling, angel?” he asked. She smirked at him, “How is my pussy feeling, do you mean? Overused, I’d say.”

He smirked back, running his fingers over the slight bruise on her wrist where he’d pinned her hands above her head. “I did warn you, you know.” She nodded, “You did.” She took another sip of wine, “Tell me, Logan… you truly hadn’t slept with anyone for a while?” He shook his head, “Truly, no… I hadn’t. Before you… us… I don’t think I’ve had sex for…” he closed his eyes, “well, let’s see… I’ve been out of rehab for six months. I was in rehab for two months. I wasn’t capable of having sex for at least a couple of months prior to that… too fucked up on drugs.” She quickly added this up in her head, “So about ten months, then?” “Uh-huh, and that’s the minimum. Before I went into rehab, to be honest I don’t really remember the last time I had sex before that.”

She nodded, then smiled shyly up at him, “I like that. I’m glad that I’m the one to reawaken the beast in you.” He laughed, “So I haven’t scared you, then? Haven’t put you off sex?” She shook her head emphatically, gazing at him with an open expression, “No, Logan, you haven’t. In fact, I have to be honest… I want more of you.”

He sucked in a breath, smiling devilishly at her, “Well, that’s convenient, angel. Because you’re going to be getting a helluva lot more of me.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@obscurilicious @paracosmenthusiast @intothesoul @restingbitchsblog @idaoftheburningmind

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#ben barnes #logan delos #logan delos fan fiction #logan delos x reader #logan delos fanfic #logan delos imagine #logan delos deserved better

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector’s Edition: Meet The Mulders

Mulder’s childhood is only touched on briefly in the series; but it’s enough: stern, cold handshakes and cool, unanswered questions with a silencing slap to punctuate. These fics dive into the Mulder family dynamics as it rips horrifically in half. (A separate post shall be made for fics that deal exclusively with Bill Mulder, Tena Mulder, or Samantha Mulder.) 

**Note: I spell Teena as “Tena” because that was how it was spelled in a Two Fathers/One Son script, and if that’s what Chris Carter wants... *shrugs*.*)

I attempted to keep these in “chronological order by author”’; but-- c’est la vie.  

(Gossamer links are acting weird, but they’re worth the extra step to read.) 

Childhood and Pre-S1 Fics 

Dryad’s (Ao3) 

Bird Song

““Is he asleep yet?" Bill asked, peering over her shoulder.

She smiled. "Almost.  He's so tired he can barely keep his little peepers open, but he keeps trying nonetheless.””

A look at new, proud parents. Lullabies and newspaper clippings.

2790 Vine St. (Gossamer)

“Fox idly kicked the settle's bottom panel, unable to decide which was worse, staying at home or going to the party.”

The parties of polite society in the wake of Sam’s abduction are empty, vapid, torturous. Mulder observes the party, disconnected without a tangible anchor.

Though It Be Winter, Still Our Heart Beats

“She was a different woman now. Only the faint pinking of her cheeks and the subtle flare of her nostrils betrayed her emotion.

"Bill, you promised!" As always, he was helpless in the face of her anger.”

Mulder has joined the FBI, and Bill dreads telling Tena. Both begin to plot how to derail their son from his goal.

pokeitlikejello’s Baby Loves Pain 

“He tried everything to calm her. He made faces, he made funny noises, he tickled her. But nothing worked. It was then that Fox spotted his father’s fishing boots and hat near the hall closet.”

Little boy Mulder is left to watch after toddler Samantha. This short shows his touchingly sacrificial nature. The adult tensions build quietly in the background.  

muldertorture’s (Alt. Ao3, FFN) Chilmark MA 02535 

“Fox looks like an average young man.” A beat. “Looks, however, are quite often deceptive, aren’t they Teena?”

Tena begs for assurances from CSM while he observes Mulder and Samantha playing. As with CSM, there are no guarantees, and plans always change. 

@leiascully’s (Ao3) Armada 

“But the boat sailed on, one of so many, beyond his reach.”

As so often with neglected children, Mulder’s zest for play takes a macabre turn as he seeks attention from his already disconnected mother. Tena’s nature is one of distance even before Samantha’s abduction.  

MistressKat’s Summer of ‘73 

“Something about Fox’s expression shifts and softens; he knows exactly what she’s talking about. Over the last few weeks, they’ve spent a lot of evenings huddled together on the landing, listening to their parents fighting in hushed voices.” 

Samantha wants desperately to escape the mounting weirdness at home. Mulder’s heartfelt promise of “next time” is one he ultimately can’t keep. Tena’s resigned willingness to give up Samantha simmers in the background. 

@agirlcallednarelle/Tabith Jean‘s 

But You Said (Ao3) 

““See? I told you he would come if we needed him!’ Samantha hissed loudly. Fox grinned the same pursed smile he had seen on Samantha a moment before....”

No one likes bullies, and little spitfire Samantha tolerates them even less. She holds her brother to his promise; and is proud when he keeps his word.  

Absolution 

“His footsteps echo through the hall louder than they did before. Though he never thrived on exuberance, it came as part of the package of having young children, and this new, restrictive silence unnerves him.”

Bill Mulder is hollowly seeking redemption through his work, unable to bridge the gap with his furious wife and troubled, driven son. 

Foxsong’s Sins of the Father 

“Knowing he would only lose him, Bill had steeled himself from the beginning against loving this child too well, and his reticence toward Fox had been made all the more painfully apparent when Samantha was born. He had loved Samantha with a ferocity that shocked him.” 

A twist on the family dynamic: Mulder had been part of the inoculation program from a young age in what was-- Bill had assumed-- prep work for his abduction. When CSM switches up the children, Bill is left floundering: he has no relationship with his son to build, and whatever one he has left with Tena (who is portrayed as the loving glue of their family) will deteriorate if CSM makes good on his threat to tell the truth.

Anonymous/Rebecca Rusnak’s (mulderscreek) Black is the Color 

“Bill is my friend, possibly my only true friend. Certainly the only friend who knows who I was.  And I know this is dangerous, but I feel a connection to Bill and his family that I cannot force myself to break.” 

CSM’s POV-- it’s fascinating to ingest fics posed as sympathetic reads, because it cuts to the heart of this man’s martyr complex. This one is particularly poignant because it mixes in shame from the fallout of the Syndicate’s actions and self-righteous superiority at “filling the hole” left in Mulder’s life. What’s even more fascinating is that CSM isn’t Mulder’s father, just a sympathetic “mentor.” 

ijustknew’s Before and After (Tumblr) 

“One night, after nearly a month of deafening silence, Mulder’s father announced that Mulder was going back to school. Mulder wanted to protest that he couldn’t bear it, that he couldn’t stand the people and the questions, but his father’s word was law, so Mulder nodded and went to bed.”  

Mulder’s status as funny older brother and distinguished student crumbles in the wake of Samantha’s abduction. 

@badforthefish/Scarlet’s With Fortune and Men’s Eyes

“She did try to tell herself that she was only being strong for her remaining child, but deep down, she knew the ugly truth: she simply didn’t love her little girl enough to crash and burn.”

A fascinating deep dive into Tena’s POV after Sam’s abduction. Bill, shattered at the loss of his favorite, begins to hate Tena’s unaffected attitude. Tena, glad she kept her favorite, by turns soothes and shuts out her son. 

I love this particularly because it taps into my niche XF belief: CSM was Sam’s father, not Mulder’s, and Tena strongly suspected it. 

Joann Humby’s Half Life- 1976 

“Problems solved are battles won. In retrospect, perhaps it has been for the best. Unable to cling to me, Fox has learned self-reliance, independence, strength. My young man, my pride and joy.”

Tena’s callousness dressed up as gentile unconcern shines like a giant, gaping beacon of selfishness. She is so ingrained in her excuses that she disregards the silent censure of the responsible people around her.  

Sarah Johnson/RaEnright’s 

How to Catch an Alien 01

How to Catch an Alien 02 

““Don't use them fifty-cent words with me, Fox boy. All ye need to say is yer sister's missin and you saw them grey men steal her."    

"Yeah." Fox scuffed his shoe. "You think I'm crazy now."     

"Not't'all. You come with me, son, and I'll help ye. I seen them grey men too....” 

Young Mulder meets an old man in a bookstore; and the two become friends in their quest to gain answers from extraterrestrials. Mulder’s new radio works so well it intercepts a military plane and almost get him in big trouble. 

Vickie Moseley’s (Ao3, Gossamer) Consequences (Gossamer link) 

“The anger turned to dread. It was the one thing that he'd thought about, the one option he'd taken hours to consider. He couldn't let Fox anywhere near him for longer than the length of a weekend. If the syndicate decided to test him again, this time they would surely go for the boy. ...So he had to keep the boy at arm's length, shuffle him off to his mother, where he'd be safe. At least, that was what Bill prayed he was doing. “

Vickie’s specialty is Mulder hurtfic, not a genre I care much for (and it must be done well.) However! This was quite the character study into the conflicted, tortured mind of Bill. He forgot his weekend, then forgot his son’s birthday, then realized his son was gravely ill. His depth of reined-in heartbreak and failure is explored interestingly. 

stellar_dust’s (Ao3) Home for Christmas (Ao3)

“When Teena walked in with her packages twenty minutes later, she couldn't believe her eyes - Fox and Samantha, curled up together beside the Christmas tree, reading. She paused at the door and smiled, watching unseen, on her way upstairs to wrap the last few presents. I'm so blessed, she thought, and turned away, unwilling to disturb them. Now if only Bill weren't working late, everything would be perfect. ~*~ That was the year they got Stratego.” 

The long-term effects of Samantha’s loss. Mulder’s happy Christmases devolve into avoidance, and perpetual pain and loss through Pheobe and Diana. Scully and TLG eventually improve his outlook; and even Tena finally sends a gift and an invite, though pitiful and empty. (The fic ends with Mulder telling Scully about his history, but that’s extra reading~. I usually stop after Tena’s death.) 

Canon Divergent and AU Fics 

Deannie’s Best Loved

“The unspoken threat was unmistakable. They'd already given him his choice--his best loved, or everyone. They'd make good on the threat if he left now. And not only would his son be gone, but his wife and daughter as well... “

A canon-divergent fic starring Bill and Tena being unwitting victims. CSM intercepts the two of them at party and prevents them from saving their children. Bill chooses Tena’s safety above the kids, eventually destroying their marriage. 

The story leads up to Bill’s death-- where I like to stop reading-- before it continues into Anasazi plot.

memories_child’s Four Ways Teena’s Life May Have Turned Out Differently

“She wonders, every day, if she made the right decision. And then Samantha calls her name.” 

These vignettes-- sought-after socialite to sober wife to sorrowful mother -- work great separately but even better as a whole. It turns canon-divergent after the abduction, since it was Mulder who was taken, not Sam.

@cecilysass‘s (Ao3) The Boy on the Beach (Ao3) 

“There was a tightness in Scully’s chest as she watched the boy’s face, the set of his jaw. How could she ever explain why she wanted him to be nothing but endlessly kind to his sister? How could she convey to a twelve-year old boy the brokenness of a thirty-two year old man — a man who would sit on a motel room floor, speaking to his new partner in hushed tones about the defining loss of his life?”

This time travel casefile (set post Amor Fati) quickly derails, trapping Scully in the past. Realizing there is time to save Samantha from being abducted, she travels to Martha’s Vineyard and helps them evade CSM and his goons. Adult Mulder, wracked with guilt over his cruel words in their last fight, reaches her just in time. CSM is finally dealt with, and all’s as well as can be in their universe.  

Although the present-day content is canon-divergent (according to my headcanon), and I skip any ~spicy~ adult moments (because that’s not my cup of tea), the intensity of the writing and the character voices is fascinating. Standouts moments were: Scully and the kids hiding in the tree, and Mulder crying over the newest faxed photo.  

Most of these fics (and authors) are already well-loved; but they still deserved to be highlighted for their quality and interesting perspectives. 

Enjoy!  

#txf #x-files #xf fanfic #fic #Collector's Edition #Meet The Mulders #pre-S1 #pokeitlikejello #muldertorture #leiascully #MistressKat #TabithaJean #agirlcallednarelle #Foxsong #Anonymous #Rebecca Rusnak #Dryad #ijustknew #Scarlet #JoannHumby #SarahJohnson #RaEnright #VickieMoseley #stellar_dust #Deannie #memories_child #cecilysass #mine

[foodandfolklore]

The Three Lemons

Something compelled me to look up stories about lemons today. Lemons have a lot of uses in cooking and witchcraft. Lemons and lemon juice are often known for their Souring properties, and will be used in souring spells. A kind of spell or hex where you look to make someone's life or relationships unpleasant. But Lemons also have strong cleansing and purification properties. Steeping some lemon zest in hot water makes a great base for a cleansing spray.

Lemons have lots of magical properties. Beauty, Love, Romance, Friendship, Fidelity, Banishing, Protection; they are also related to the sun and solar energy so expect Joy, Energy, Positivity, Open Mind, Health and Longevity. And a lot more, seriously. Lemon Trees are able to produce lemons year round; often called four seasons fruit. So lemons are always in season, always full of energy.

This story was translated from Italian to English by Esther Singleton in the book The Goldenrod Fairy Book in 1903. I want to give you a heads up now that one of the characters is a black person, written in a time when black people were not written as equals to white characters. However, there are still a few little nuances about this story I found interesting. The first being that she is called 'black' and not some other word or slur common for the time. That is not editing done on my part, that is the word chosen by the original author. Yes she is referred to as 'Black Slave' most of the time instead of being given a name. But none of the characters had names.

However, that's about all it has going for it in regards to black representation. I physically recoiled a bit at the implication that being a slave is a choice, you just need to work harder. And of course the villain is the black person victimizing a poor, pretty white girl and taking advantage of the kindness of the white man. If you're wondering why I'm sharing such a story, please check out my previous post.

That said, I want to focus on the Lemons and the beauty and love that come from them. This is ultimately a story about a man finding his perfect wife. The most beautiful, kind person ever. Maybe cut open a lemon for your own magic to help harness beauty and love energy.

THE King of Terra Longa had an only son, who was the apple of his eye, and on whom he built all his hopes. He felt he was growing an old man, and the great desire of his life was to see his son happily married before he died. But, unfortunately, the young Prince was of a very different mind, and if a woman was as much as mentioned in his presence, he got up and left the room, and refused to come back till the conversation had turned on some other subject.

Neither his father’s tears and entreaties, nor the counsel and advice of the statesmen and courtiers round the King’s throne, would make him consider the subject of matrimony. But nothing happens so often as the unexpected, and a mere trifle will change the history of nations. One day, as the Prince was cutting a cream tart in half and attending more to the conversation that was going on than to what he was doing, he cut his finger with his knife.

The blood spurted out and fell on the cream, and the mixture of colour was so beautiful that the Prince was seized on the spot with the desire to find a wife with a complexion like the cream and blood. He said to the King: “Dear father, if I do not find a bride who is red and white like this, then it is all over with me. Hitherto no woman has ever caused my heart a single flutter, but now I long for this red and white maiden, as I have never longed for anything in my life before. Permit me, therefore, to go in search of my ideal, for if I do not find her I shall die.”

At first his father was much startled and grieved at his words, and tried hard to dissuade his son from setting out on such a futile journey, but when he saw that his remonstrances were of no avail, and that he might as well have spoken to the winds, he said: “Go, my son, since your heart is so set on the journey; take money and whatever else you desire with you, and hasten back with all speed to your poor father, who will be disconsolate till you return.”

So the Prince set out on his travels, and wandered through fields and woods, over mountains and through valleys, visiting different countries 160and nations, always keeping his eyes open for the maiden of his dreams. But he sought in vain, for though he left no stone unturned, nowhere could he find the blooming image he had painted in his mind’s eye. From kingdom to kingdom he roamed, and at last he came to the Island of the Wild Women.

Here he met an old dame who was as thin as a scarecrow, and with the ugliest face he had ever seen. The Prince told her at once what brought him to the island, and when the old woman had heard his tale, and all the dangers and sufferings he had gone through, her heart melted with pity, and she said: “My son, let me warn you to fly from hence with all speed, for if my three daughters, who live on human flesh, find you here, you are a lost man. They will certainly eat you raw, or roast you for their next meal. Make haste to leave this place as quickly as you can, and I promise you won’t be gone far before you meet your fate.”

When the Prince heard her words he took to his heels, and, without as much as bidding the old creature farewell, he ran without stopping till he came to a different country, where he met another 161old woman even uglier than the first. To her, too, he confided the history and object of his wanderings, but she answered him as the other had done: “You had better make haste to get away from here, unless you wish to provide my daughters, the little man-eaters, with a meal; but not far from this spot you will meet your fate.”

As soon as the poor Prince heard her words he set off running at full speed, and didn’t pause for a moment till he came upon another old woman, who was sitting under a tree with a basket on her arm full of cakes and other dainties.

The Prince made her a polite bow, and commenced at once to tell her his story. This time the old woman comforted him with friendly words, and made him sit down and eat a good breakfast. When he had finished his meal she presented him with three lemons, which looked as if they had just been cut from the tree, and along with the fruit a beautiful knife, saying, as she gave them to him: “You may go home as fast as you like, for you have got what you sought; when you are close to your father’s kingdom, stop at the first well you come to, and cut one of the lemons in half: a fairy will come out of it, and say to you: ‘Give me something to drink.’ Then you must get her some water as quickly as you can, for if you don’t she will disappear like quicksilver, and if you don’t succeed with the first or second, you must be sure not to let the third fairy escape, but hand her the water in a moment, for she is the wife of your heart’s desire.”

The Prince joyfully kissed her hairy old hand, which felt exactly like the back of a porcupine, and, thanking the old dame heartily for her kindness, he bade her farewell, and left the country with all speed. After many dangers by sea and land, he arrived safely about a day’s journey from his own kingdom. Here on a lovely heath, shaded by beautiful old trees, the Prince dismounted at a well, the running of whose crystal waters sounded like a bell, calling people to come and refresh themselves. The Prince sat down on a carpet formed of tender green grass and lovely coloured flowers, and, taking the knife out of its sheath, he cut the first lemon open. In a moment, like a flash of lightning, a beautiful girl stood before him, as 163white as milk and as red as a strawberry, and she said to him, “Give me something to drink.”

The Prince, quite dazzled and bewildered by the beauty of the fairy, did not give her the water quickly enough, and to his great grief she vanished almost as soon as she had appeared.

The same thing happened when he cut the second lemon open, and the Prince exclaimed in despair, “I am the most unlucky creature in the world. Twice have I let my luck escape me — but courage! I have still a third chance, and there is luck in odd numbers; this knife shall either be the means of securing my happiness, or it shall put an end to my griefs.”

With these words he cut the third lemon open, and out stepped the third fairy, and said, as the others had done, “Give me something to drink.”

This time the Prince handed the fairly a glass of water as quick as lightning, and in a moment a lovely girl stood before him, as white as cream and as red as blood. Her hair was golden, her mouth like a rosebud, and her eyes shone like two stars. In one word, she was as beautiful as the day, and she looked as good as she was beautiful, and as charming as she was good. The Prince 164could not contain his admiration, and said: “Am I asleep or awake, or are my eyes bewitched; for how can such a lovely creature have been contained in the bitter rind of this yellow lemon?”

But when he had at last convinced himself that the beautiful apparition before him was no dream, but sober reality, he kissed the fairy tenderly, and said many charming things to her. He begged her to be his wife. “But,” he said, “I will not take you back to my father’s kingdom without the splendour worthy of your beauty, or without the escort fitting for my queen. Therefore, let me beg of you to remain in the meantime in the hollow of this leafy oak, which looks as if it had been made for a hiding-place, and there await my return. You may be sure I will come back to you as quickly as I can, and will then lead you to my kingdom with the retinue and following that befits your position;” and so saying he bade his beautiful bride farewell, and set forth on his journey.

When he had gone, the fairy climbed up into one of the forks of the tree, and from there watched all that was going on around her. Before many minutes had passed a black slave girl arrived at the well with a pitcher for water. She was just going to dip the jug in the waves when she perceived the face of the fairy reflected in the water, and thinking it was her own reflection she saw, she stared back with a cry of surprise, exclaiming at the same time, “What, unhappy Lucia, you are as beautiful as all that, and yet your mistress sends you to the well to get water, and you submit to her conduct?”

With these words she broke the jug and returned home. But when her mistress asked her why she had not done her duty she replied, “I went to the well, and broke the pitcher by mistake against a big stone.”

The woman restrained her anger as well as she could, and on the following day gave the girl a beautiful china jug, and told her to go to the well and fill it with water. But when she came to the well, and once more saw the lovely reflection there, she heaved a deep sigh, and said, “I will no longer be a slave, for I am not ugly as I have always thought I was; on the contrary, I am lovely and charming, and it is ridiculous that I should be made to fetch water from the well!” With these 166words she broke the jug into a hundred pieces, and when she got home she told her mistress that a donkey had passed by and had kicked the jug and broken it to pieces.

When the woman heard about this fresh accident she lost her temper, and, seizing a broom, she beat the girl to within an inch of her life; then handing her a leather bottle, she said, “Now go as quickly as you can, you useless creature, and bring me back the bottle full of water. Don’t dawdle on the way, and if anything happens this time I’ll give you another beating that you won’t forget in a hurry.”

The slave-girl ran with all her might back to the well and filled the bottle full of water, but once more catching sight of the lovely reflection, she said, “I would be a fool to go on drawing water; it would be far better and more fitting that I should marry. From this moment I refuse to serve my mistress any longer.” With these words she took a pin that she wore in her hair and pierced the leather bottle with it, so that it became exactly like a fountain, with the water spurting out in every direction. Here the fairy, who had been watching the black girl’s ridiculous behavior, could contain her mirth no longer, and burst into a hearty laugh.

When the slave heard the sound of laughter she looked to see where it came from, and, when she caught sight of the girl hidden in the tree, she said to herself, “So you are the cause of my mistress nearly beating me to death, are you? but wait a little, and I’ll be even with you yet;” but to the fairy she said, “What are you doing up there, my beautiful maid?”

The fairy, who was politeness itself, told the black girl everything there was to tell, and ended up by saying she was going to marry a charming prince, and was only awaiting his return with a suitable escort and retinue to accompany him to his father’s kingdom.

When the black slave heard this, a wicked plan entered into her head, and she said: “Oh, if you are expecting your bridegroom’s return, let me come up beside you and comb your locks in order to make you even fairer than you are.”

The fairy answered, “You are most welcome to come,” and stretched down her hand, which looked like a piece of crystal set in ebony, as she helped the slave up. As soon as the black creature began to comb the fairy’s hair she stuck her hairpin into her skull, hoping in this way she would kill her on the spot.

But as soon as the fairy felt the prick of the pin she called out, “Dove, dove!” and in a moment she was changed into a dove, and flew away right up into the sky.

When the Prince returned with his suite and train he could hardly believe his eyes when he beheld, instead of the lovely maid he had left behind in the hollow of the tree, the form of the ugly black slave-girl.

But when the wicked creature perceived the Prince’s distress and amazement she said: “Don’t be surprised, dear Prince, for it is I, your Lucia, but I have been bewitched by an evil magician, and turned from a fair and lovely maiden into the ugly black marble statue you see before you.”

The poor Prince, not knowing how to help himself, made the best of a bad business, and after the black girl had got down from the tree he had her dressed in the splendid clothes he had brought with him for his bride; and when she had been made to look as well as she could, he set forth with her to meet the King and Queen, who were to meet the young couple a few miles from their home.

When his father and mother perceived the folly their son had committed, and how that he who had travelled so far in search of a white dove had only returned with a black crow, they could hardly restrain their disgust and disappointment. But, seeing the thing was done, and that there was no help for it, they abandoned their throne to the young couple, and a gold crown was placed on the slave’s woolly head. The wedding was held with much pomp and ceremony, and everyone far and wide was invited to the feast.

Now it happened that while the King’s cook was preparing all the dainty dishes for the wedding banquet a beautiful dove flew in at the kitchen window and said:

“Tell me, cook, oh! tell me true,   What do the King and his black bride do?”

At first the cook paid no attention to the words of the bird; but when the dove had repeated them a second and a third time, he ran into the banqueting hall and told the assembled company what the bird had said. When the bride heard the words of the dove’s song, she ordered the bird to be caught on the spot and roasted. The cook did as he was told, seized the bird, and wrung its neck, and, when he had plucked its feathers, he threw them out of the kitchen window. A few days afterwards, on the spot where the feathers had been thrown, a beautiful lemon tree sprang up, which grew and blossomed as you looked at it.

Now it happened one day that the King was looking out of his window, and saw the tree, which he never remembered to have noticed before. He immediately called the cook before him, and asked him when and by whom the tree had been planted. When he had heard the whole story from the chief cook, he gave orders that no one, under pain of death, should touch the tree, and that it should be tended and watered carefully every day.

In a very short time three lemons appeared on the tree exactly the same as those the old woman had given the Prince, and he had them plucked at once and brought to his room. Here he shut himself up with a tumbler full of water, and with the same knife that he had used before, and which he always wore at his side, he began to cut the lemons in half. As before, the first and second fairy escaped him; but when he had cut the third lemon open, and given the fairy some water to drink, as she requested, she changed into the beautiful girl whom he had left behind in the hollow of the tree, and from her he learnt the whole history of the black slave’s misdeeds.

The King’ s joy was beyond words at this new stroke of fortune, and he could hardly realise that his bride was really the beautiful girl who stood before him, and not the ugly black creature who had deceived him so wickedly. After he had dressed her in the most costly garments, and kissed her tenderly, he took his fairy bride by the hand and led her into the throne-room, where all the court were assembled. Then the King addressed his courtiers and said: “Tell me, all of you, what punishment does the person deserve who has ill-treated this beautiful lady?” Whereupon one replied: “She deserves a breakfast of stones;” another: “A draught of poison;” and a third said: “She should be rolled down a hill in a barrel with sharp spikes inside it.”

At last the King called the black Queen to him and asked her what punishment she would propose.

“The wicked creature,” she answered, “who could harm so fair a vision should be burnt to death and her ashes scattered to the four winds.”

When the King heard her words, he said: “You have pronounced your own doom, for it was you, and no other, you vile wretch, who did my beautiful bride so much wrong. Know now that this is the lovely maid whose head you pierced with your hairpin, and she, too, was the beautiful dove you had so cruelly caught and roasted. But as you have done unto others, so it shall be done unto you, and as you showed no mercy, neither shall it be shown you.”

With these words he had the black slave seized and thrown alive into a huge bonfire, and when she was burned to ashes they were scattered to the four winds from the top of the high watch-tower. But the King and his fair wife lived happily ever afterwards; and if only you and I knew where to find the kingdom of Terra Longa, I believe we should find them living there still.

#Lemons #Italian #folklore #fable #fairytale #food and folklore #klickwitch #black people in fairytales #kitchen witchcraft #lemon magic #magic #october #three lemons #lemon

[sapores]

My Own Ferdinand-and-Isabella Punch Bowl

Next weekend is the Eurovision final, and we have friends coming over to watch with us. I spotted a drinking game official enough to have its own domain and twitter account (ie, not very official, but certainly interwebs savvy) - and that they recommended their rum punch.

...but I didn't much like their punch recipe.

So I looked around for alternatives, and ran into Ferdinand and Isabella's Punch. This looked a lot better to me, but still I wouldn't want to make it without a few tweaks here and there.

So I tweaked. And for some ingredients that I didn't have at home, I replaced, or I went with DIY.

I plan to go back and edit this post as I settle on some of the amounts, and possibly add more spices than currently planned to the falernum.

Velvet Falernum Batavian Falernum

Since I didn't have any falernum at home, and want to largely avoid purchasing extra booze at this point, I decided to make my own falernum.

And since many historic punches used Batavian Arrak, and while I don't have any white rum at home, I do have Arrak, I decided to build my falernum on that instead.

So, here comes the Batavian Falernum. Based largely on the DIY recipe from Serious Eats.

Ingredients:

1/3 cup raw almonds

30 cloves

2 sticks of cinnamon (added by me)

30 allspice berries (added by me)

1 inch ginger (added by me)

1 cup Batavian Arrack (changed by me)

8 limes

520 g Demerara sugar [actually used: palm sugar + white sugar] (changed by me)

130 g (~1/2 cup) water

Day 1:

Coarsely chop and toast the almonds in a dry (non-stick) pan over medium-high heat until fragrant but before they burn (approx. 5 minutes).

Place almonds, cinnamon and cloves in a tight-sealing jar, cover with arrack. Steep for 24h.

Day 2:

Add allspice berries. Steep for 24h.

Day 3:

Finely zest 8 limes, with as little pith as possible. Put limes in ziploc bag in fridge to juice them later for the syrup and even later for the punch.

Thinly slice ginger.

Add zest and ginger slices to infusion. Steep for 24h.

Day 4:

Juice 4 limes (from the fridge stash), strain into pot. I got 130 g juice from this. Add water (equal amount, so 130g) and sugar (quadruple that, so 520g, to make it 2:1 sugar to liquid by weight), and cook a 66 brix (rich) sugar syrup, until sugar is fully dissolved.

Let it cool, then strain infusion and combine infused arrak and syrup in 1:2 proportions by weight.

Shake/stir until fully combined, strain through coffee filter, and let it rest for 12h.

Ferdinand and Isabella's Batavian Punch

Ingredients

1 lemon

2/3 cups sugar

2-3 tbsp Imperial Earl Grey

1/2 bottle (375ml) Ron Zacapa 23

1/2 bottle (375ml) aged Malmsey Madeira (changed by me)

1/2 cup lemon juice (squeezed from reserved fruit)

1/2 cup lime juice (squeezed from reserved fruit)

1 tsp Angostura Bitters

1/2 cup Batavian Falernum (see above)

Extra additions chosen day of:

Not enough Madeira: swapped half for Lillet Blanc

1 tbsp rich gomme syrup

1/4 tsp 4:1 saline

1/2 tsp Fee Brothers Black Walnut Bitters

1/2 tsp Fee Brothers Molasses Bitters

1/2 tsp Angostura Orange Bitters

Day 1:

Peel or zest the lemon, avoid the pith. Combine with sugar, muddle slightly and let it rest to produce oleo saccharum. Put the zested lemon in the fridge in a plastic bag to squeeze later.

Fill baking tray or bundt pan partway with water, put in freezer to produce ice block for the punch bowl.

Day 2:

Steep 1.5 cups of boiling hot water with the tea leaves for 3 minutes. Strain and set aside to cool.

Squeeze lemon and lime from the fridge and measure out the required amounts. (if not enough, fill it up with the Meyer Lemon super juice in my fridge)

Combine rum, madeira, lemon juice, lime juice, and the oleo saccharum. Stir to combine, and then strain to remove lemon zest from the mix. Pour into punch bowl.

Add tea to punch bowl.

Add ice block to punch bowl.

Garnish with lemon and lime wheels studded with cloves.

Timing for this time around:

May 7: Day 1 of Falernum

May 8: Day 2 of Falernum

May 9: Day 3 of Falernum

May 10: Day 4 of Falernum

May 12: Day 1 of Punch.

May 13: Day of Eurovision show. Day 2 of Punch.

#cocktails #cocktail #rum #falernum #punch #ferdinand and isabella's punch #batavian arrak #madeira #lemon juice #lime juice #historic punch bowl #large batch

[thewolfinsideyourheart]

The look of actual human bodies obviously changes very little through history. But the look of ideal bodies changes a great deal all the time, and so the perception of corporeal facts is edited to match. In ordinary life, a common vehicle of expression for this changing physical ideal is the changing fashion in clothes. In art, the nude (whether it is offered by Rubens or Playboy) tends to reflect the same changing standards. Rubens's nude ladies are expertly conceived versions of the fashionable apparel of the day, which favored bunchy satin dresses arranged in thick but mobile folds, especially around the middle. In nude art, shiny satin skin over thick and mobile folds of flesh produced a body perfectly tailored to the chic, erotic taste of the moment. Meanwhile, in real life, people who were thin wore lush, fluid and bulky garments to suggest that they resembled a Rubens nude underneath.

For about 400 years, roughly between 1500 and 1900, bodily weight and volume, for both men and women, had a strong visual appeal. There were variations according to country and century in this standard of good looks, but in general it was considered not only beautiful but natural to look physically substantial. In conventional art, not only refined courtiers but servants and rural laborers were depicted as solidly fleshy, clad in thick clothing, and taking up a good deal of space. Among the desirable qualities of upper‐class elegance, slimness did not figure except as the property of hands, feet or noses, and occasionally the feminine waist all by itself, independent of other proportions. As for bones, they were totally banished from the idealized female nude.

Rubens, reaching maturity at the end of the 16th century, caught the taste for physical plumpness on the rise, so to speak, and gave it a whole new dimension. Abandoning the smooth terrain of the Renaissance nude, he conjured up a hilly and lustrous landscape of flesh—a new Baroque vision of fat.

Rubens's glorification of flesh was an outgrowth of the Renaissance belief in the almost limitless possibilities of the human mind and body. In the visual arts, human importance seemed most appropriately expressed in terms of solidity, of undeniable substance and weight. Thinness of body came to connote poverty and the weakness of disease and old age. It also suggested spiritual poverty and moral insufficiency. A thin body might have been appropriate in the Middle Ages when the Church emphatically preached the unimportance of the flesh, but by the 16th century cultivated opinion had acquired a more worldly view of corporeality, so a thin body looked not only unlovely but unliberated.

Today, slimness is considered an attribute of youthfulness, and both traits are viewed as highly desirable. In earlier centuries, however, youth was seen as an age of blooming plumpness, a time for physical abundance and satisfaction. The “shrunk shank” of Shakespeare was the property of a “lean and slippered” man well on in years. Any skinniness or boniness found in youth was an indication of undesirable morbidity—not only a lack of good fortune and muscle, but a lack of will and zest.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Potent

Alpha! Hanta Sero x Fem! Omega! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18 please vacate the premises.

Warnings: A/B/O, smut, knotting, marking, breeding kink (sorta? idk it comes with the A/B/O territory), a hint of pregnancy kink, a bit of blood

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author's Note: Ohhhhkaayyy so this has been sitting in my google doc for AGES. I think I started this in...October of last year? It's been sitting there for months and I've lacked the motivation to finish and post it but then I sent in an anon ask to @reinawritesbnha and, being the absolute queen she is, she became the little push I needed to do it. I DID IT FOR REINA!!

Also, this is some of my earliest writing and I only skimmed and edited a little bit of it so if there's a little bit of weird pacing or a strange cutoff where the writing styles clash it's because I haven't touched this piece in months.

Anywho, enjoy~

*

*

*

It had to happen when you were surrounded by alphas.

Your suppressants flaked out, again, and your scent wafted through the air on the street. Normally It’d be fine for an omega to let their scent float freely around them. But your scent is particularly...potent, even when you weren’t in heat. Not only that, but you weren’t mated yet, your scent glands still bare, and you still didn’t have a pack. To make matters worse, you’re quirkless.

You hadn’t realised what was happening until your path was blocked by an especially large male alpha. You turned around, and there were two more behind you. Fuck. This isn’t good. You took in your surroundings and searched for an exit, but you couldn’t find a way out. There's no way you’d be able to outrun the three very large male alphas.

Probably the worst part is that more alphas are turning their head toward you, taking notice of your lavender honey and rain scent that slowly began turning to a sour swamp. You dared to hope that change would ward off the three cornering you, but they’d already got a whiff of you. Several distressed chirps sounded from your chest, voicing your discomfort, and you glared pointedly at the three alphas as they edged closer to you.

You hate when this happened. Why’d you have to be cursed like this? Your growls only grew, baring your little omega fangs. There’s no way in hell you’d let some stranger scent you, let alone one of these creeps. They wouldn’t take the damn hint and just crept closer to you, calling out to the ‘pretty little omega’ to ‘come have some fun’.

You’re scared now, the involuntary chirps in your chest coming more frequently. None of the other alphas or betas on the street were big enough to face the three, making you a sitting duck and a ragdoll if they wanted you to be. Your claws are small, nowhere near ideal for this situation, but you’d use them if you needed to. With a final low defiant growl you dropped your bag against the wall behind you and readied yourself for a fight.

Suddenly a large body dropped in front of you, his back to you. His scent alone hit you like a freight train, orange zest, mint, tree bark and something earthy. It had your head spinning, nearly sending you into an early heat. He growled, low and powerful, the sound rattling in your chest and making you sink further into the wall behind you. The other three alpha’s scents together were still overpowered by the new alpha before you, and they vanished faster than they appeared.

He turned around and stepped away from you, giving you space to breathe. He kneeled down enough so he was eye level with you, his hands reaching out clearly in an attempt to comfort you, but kept from touching you.

“Are you okay?” The question barely registered, still delirious from his scent, and you’re having a hard time recovering. Large hands grip your shoulders and shake you lightly, your mind beginning to clear with the soothing pheromones he’s releasing.

“Omega.” The command snapped you to attention, your gaze fixated on his own dark irises.

“Are you okay, omega?” You blink, swallow down the lump in your throat, take a deep breath.

“Yeah...I’m okay. Thank you, alpha.” But you’re not quite okay. You need to get home. Fast. The alpha seemed to catch on, probably by your scent that still hadn’t returned to normal. He stands and slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and wrapping you in his scent. It’s a comforting gesture.

“Let’s get you home.” With a nod you set off, the man walking next to you with a strong, warm hand on the middle of your back.

“What’s your name?” You introduce yourself, and he does the same. His name is Sero Hanta, and now that you’re calm again, you take in just how handsome he is.

Raven hair is pulled back into a small bun, showing off his undercut and strong, sharp jawline. Onyx eyes shine with kindness and playful mischief, and a beaming grin reveals pearly white teeth. He’s incredibly toned, his muscles calmly rippling under the t-shirt that stretched over his chest. You vaguely noticed the strange shape of his elbows, but disregarded it as his quirk. The omega in you is howling, begging for this alpha, his scent invading your senses. But you suppress it quickly, reminding yourself you’d only just met this man.

As you reach your apartment you exchange phone numbers, and he tells you to keep the jacket and use it when you go out to ward off any unwanted attention. You thank him again for helping you earlier, and he waves to you as he walks down the hall and enters the elevator, the doors closing in front of his handsome smiling face.

Despite meeting him only ten minutes earlier your instincts trust the alpha, and you hold the jacket close to your face, breathing in his scent. It’s wonderful, and your inner omega is in love. You find yourself wondering when you’d see him again.

The next few days are riddled with work and calls to your doctor about the strength of your suppressants. You work from home as a secretary for a small company. It’s a miracle you’d found it, too. Nobody wants an omega, let alone a potent one. It’s an alpha’s world, you guess. When this job opening popped up you were ecstatic, so you took it and have been working from home with decent pay for the last five years.

The calls to your doctor were not going as smoothly as your job, though. You leave a message every four hours until she finally calls you back. She was concerned since the suppressants she’d prescribed are the strongest out there, and if your scent was overpowering them they were either defective or your scent glands were overproducing. It wasn’t an immediate threat to your health, it only meant you’d be drawing more attention than you wanted to. Still, it’s annoying and makes life so much harder than it needs to be.

After she prescribed twice the amount, she said she’d look over your tests from the latest visit before she hung up the phone. You groaned once the call ended. You seriously needed a break from your second gender. Taking the prescribed double dose of suppressants, you got ready to go out to the corner cafe to read and drink coffee. Hopefully the new amount will keep steady. You really don’t want to deal with any more aggressive alphas this week. For good measure you pull on Sero’s jacket, allowing his scent to cover you, then grab your keys, phone, wallet and a book and begin the walk.

When you arrive at the cafe you order a hot mocha, curl into the small corner booth and crack open the book. You got lost in the ink and your mind floated along the adventure, putting yourself in the shoes of the main character and leading the mission to take down the corrupt queen who’d framed you for killing the prince of a neighboring kingdom. You were ripped from the fantasy world when a bright, enthusiastic blonde came up and tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump. His smile was as bright as his hair.

“Sorry to scare you cutie, but I couldn’t help but notice that jacket of yours smells an awful lot like my friend Sero!” You smile softly at the blonde.

“Well if we’re talking about the same Sero Hanta, then your nose would be correct. This is his jacket.” His eyes widen as he nods.

“Oh my gosh you must be the omega he keeps talk-” The blonde’s words became muffled by a large hand. A hand that belonged to the very man you were talking about. Sero smiles apologetically down at you as he shoves the blonde back to where you assume they’re sitting.

“Sorry about Kami, he’s… extroverted.” You smile back at him, mostly because you’re happy to see him again.

“It’s no problem at all. He recognized your scent on me.” He looked down and only then realized you’re wearing his jacket, and he beams at you. Then he takes a glance at the booth you’re sitting all alone at, his smile falling just a bit.

“Do you wanna come sit with us?” You take a moment to think about the offer, then agree with a nod. Your omega couldn’t pass up more time with him.

As you approach the booth you notice there are more people with Sero than you anticipated. There were four other people sitting there. Sero introduced all of them from left to right. Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, and the happy blonde from earlier is Kaminari Denki. You introduce yourself and when Sero slid into the booth, you followed after him.

These five are a tight pack, and you learn they all met in high school. Bakugo’s brash personality made you wary at first, but it didn’t take long to realize he’s just like that with everyone. He makes a bit of a snippy remark, which you easily counter, and he smirks while the rest smile or snicker. It would seem they like you.

You can’t tell what their second genders are, and you mentally kick yourself for even wondering in the first place. Their genders are none of your concern, but you can’t blame yourself when you’re constantly alert because of your own stupid second gender. As it turns out, you don’t need to wait very long to find out.

This time you smell your own scent as it permeates the air around you. You swear under your breath at the stupid suppressants that obviously can’t so their job, and the others snap their gazes to you. You sigh.

“Yeah, that scent is me. My suppressants flaked again. Sorry about that.” They all nodded, seemingly understanding. Sero must have told them about the other day. Of course, it would soon repeat. It didn’t take long for an alpha to take notice of your scent. The man -- why is it always the largest males??? -- strides up to the booth with a cocksure grin and leans down to inhale your scent. You duck away from him, into Sero, and let out an albeit small warning growl that was drowned in Sero and Kirishima’s. He ignored them all the same.

“Hey there little omega, you smell real nice. You wanna come hang with me instead? We can have some fun together with my buddies, what do you say?” The others stayed quiet. They’re going to let you defend yourself before they do anything in case they end up escalating the situation. You turn your head and lift your shoulder, hiding your scent gland.

“I’m not interested, thank you. Please leave me alone.” You hoped to whatever deity watched over you that the man would leave. Before anyone could react the alpha grabbed your wrist in a vice grip, yanking you roughly from your seat. You chirp, your scent turning sour and the entire pack abruptly stands, baring their fangs at the man. It barely registered in your head that Kirishima and Bakugo are alphas, Mina is a beta, and Kaminari is an omega, their fangs giving them away.

The man tightens his grip on your wrist and you cry out, your bones creaking under the pressure. With no other options you did the one thing that would get him to let go, and sank your fangs into his wrist. You jump back into Sero, who wraps an arm around you protectively.

“You bit me, you bitch!” He raises an arm, clearly about to try and hit you, but a large hand grabs his wrist. Surprisingly enough it’s Bakugo, and his growl is laced into his words.

“Leave now, or you lose a hand.” Sero speaks up from above you.

“You might wanna listen, amigo. That’s Dynamight.” The alpha rips his arm from Bakugo’s hold and looks down at you, and you growl at him as he scoffs and walks away, apparently not ready to fight the #2 pro hero over an omega.

You all sit back down and you pull up the sleeve of the jacket to inspect the already forming bruise on your wrist. Your nose wrinkles with a half-angry half-pained snarl. Tenderly, Sero takes your wrist and lightly squeezes the sides of your forearm, against your bones, and your lack of reaction tells him nothing’s broken. Still, he growls at the offending bruise.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You shake your head and put a hand over his.

“It’s not worth it Sero. He’s probably long gone.” You turn to the rest of the pack.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Kirishima is the first to speak.

“Of course! That dude was a jerk. I just hope he doesn’t go around doing that to other omegas.” Bakugo, surprisingly, spoke next.

“Obviously we’d protect you. You’re a potent omega and quirkless, so you attract unwanted attention without even knowing or wanting to. Besides, if you’re gonna be Sero’s omega there’s no way in hell we’d let some extra handle you like that.” The implications make your face burn, and Kirishima smacks the blonde’s arm with a ‘Don’t just say that kind of thing, Katsuki.’

After an hour or two of talking, and shockingly no other aggressive alphas, they all walk you home to your apartment. Sero wanted to check on your wrist again, so you invited them all in, but they all had something else to do, so you were left alone with Sero. The fact that the one alpha you desperately wanted to be around is alone with you in your apartment is both great and terrible. Thankfully, you have self-control and his own suppressants are working perfectly fine.

He inspected the darkening bruise on your wrist, his large hands gripping your arm tenderly and turning it gently as he prods at the skin. It doesn’t hurt too bad, so you assure him you’ll be perfectly fine. Eventually he leaves with a hug and you sigh once the door is closed, relieved that you were able to keep your omega at bay and your hands to yourself.

A couple days later you get a text from him and the two of you text often, asking how each other’s day went, if anything interesting had happened. You didn’t leave your apartment unless you needed to, since your suppressants clearly weren’t working, so you made sure to cut grocery trips short and keep away from any alphas that seemed a bit aggressive. Sero invited you to hang out with the pack at their house, and you obliged.

They lived in a huge house all together. Most of the rooms were sealed so no scents or sounds could go in or out for ruts and heats, and there were several spare rooms that were empty and waiting for more pack members. It was a fun hangout, filled with video games and good conversation, and even better food which Bakugo cooked. Sero had an arm around you whenever he was close, and you definitely didn’t mind. Your suppressants flaked in the middle, again, and Sero insisted he walk you home. With him walking you home there weren’t any alphas trying to get you this time. You ended up going over to hang out with them a lot when you weren’t working, and eventually Sero began to court you.

Obviously, you accepted, and after a few months of dating and scenting, your overactive scent glands seemed to mellow out, Sero’s scent mixing with it. Your suppressants are lasting much longer now, which is a good sign. Now that you’re Sero’s omega, he often helped you with your heats and you’d help him with his ruts, and he was strong-willed enough that he hadn’t marked or knotted you in the middle of things.

About a year and a half into the relationship you realize you really love him. Sure you had arguments, but everything was settled through calmed discussions over coffee or tea, and you came to understand each other well enough that arguments became few and far between.

You’re happy with Sero, so when your heat came around early and he was there to help, you were going to let him know just how much you loved him.

You texted him once you felt it starting. He was there within half an hour, and you pounced on him once the font door closed, smothering him in hot, wet kisses, eager to feel him inside you. He carries you to the bedroom, and you two are quick in shedding all of your clothes. He lays you on your back with a hand on your throat as he growls into your ear, making a hot shudder roll down your spine.

“Are you ready for me omega?” You whine and nod, your slick already dripping down your folds. You want him so bad it hurts.

“Please alpha, I need your cock.” He growls again, satisfied with your answer, and he presses into you, bottoming out with one firm thrust. You chant his name like a mantra as he set a bruising pace, rutting into you recklessly, wet skin slapping on skin the only other sound beside your whimpers and his growls. His teeth nip at your shoulder, sharp fangs testing your skin and claws digging into the fat of your hips. His cock is so deep, hot swollen tip kissing your cervix with every full-bodied thrust and sending you into a euphoric haze. Your own claws are sinking into his back, leaving little trails of red and blood beading down the lines. It drives him wild every time.

“That’s right, little omega. Mark me up, I’m all yours. Fuck you’re so pretty underneath me like this.” His hands grip behind your knees and press them into your chest, folding you nearly in half as he plows into you further. The angle knocks the breath from your lungs and your eyes roll back. You can feel his knot beginning to swell, feel how his thrusts are getting more controlled and his grip on your thighs tighten from the sheer concentration it’s taking for him not to breed you. You have other plans. Between wheezed breaths you squeak out.

“H-hantaaa~” He slows to a near snail’s pace, grinding his slowly growing cock into your sweet spot, a smirk stretching across his face as you splutter from the sudden change. He’s enjoying making you squirm.

“What is it, sweetness? Tell your alpha what you need.” You pant, chest heaving as much as the position will allow.

“Want your mark, want your knot~ Wanna be bred Hanta! I want your pups!” He stills completely, claws digging into the fat of your thighs with enough force to have drops of blood falling to the sheets beneath you. You’d never said anything like that in the heat of the moment. He can’t have heard you correctly...right?

“Princesa, do you know what you just said?” The seriousness in his tone has you sobering, but even before you knew exactly what you were saying. You nod frantically, wiggling your hips to get him to move again.

“Yes! I know alpha! Please, give me your knot~” His growl makes your bones shake, and with no warning he drops your legs around his waist and leans down so his face is buried in your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna trust you with this baby girl. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” His fangs sink into your scent gland just as he picks up his brutal pace, and the euphoria makes you cum hard, your whole body locking up and mouth falling open in a silent scream. He plows into you as you regain your breath, and you bite down on his own scent gland as hard as you can, tearing into his skin with every intention of leaving a pretty scar for the world to see.

His knot swells more, and he’s pushing it into you with every ounce of power he can generate with that gorgeous body of his. With one final snap of his hips he locks his body to yours and cums hard, ropes of hot seed filling you to the brim. He collapses on top of you and laps at the wound on your neck and you do the same. After a few minutes he leans back and cups your face in his hand, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Are you alright?” You nod, nuzzling into his palm.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna talk to you about it, but my heat came early.” He kisses your forehead gently, brushing the strands of hair from your face.

“It’s okay, pretty thing. I trust you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You giggle and wrap your arms around him.

“Of course I do. I love you, Hanta.”

“I love you too.” You lay there, tangled in each other’s arms until his knot goes down. You whine at the loss when his cock slips out of you, clawing at him to come back because you’re still in heat. His hand gently wraps around your neck, a low chuckle on his lips.

“Relax, we’re far from done.” His already hard erection rubs up and down your glistening folds, barely stimulating your clit, teasing you until tears prick your eyes and you’re beggin him to fuck you again.

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk for days. I’m gonna breed you so well, You’re gonna look so pretty all big and round with my pups.” He groans at the image he’d conjured in his head and you squeal as he slams his hips into you.

You’re in for a wonderfully long night.

#sero hanta #sero hanta mha #sero hanta bnha #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x fem reader #sero hanta smut #hanta sero #hanta sero mha #hanta sero bnha #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero x fem reader #hanta sero smut #omegaverse #tw: a/b/o

[thatknittinglady]

Since I'm obsessed. I'm gonna be trying to make up some recipes up for the Dramione fic that has killed me three times. Burned my crops and poisoned my wells.

And we'll Since there is quite a good point about baking...

So far I have the recipes in my head. Since I know this and I have them written down. But things like the crumb bars I need to make sure will turn out well. Then there is the lemon biscuits. (Or rather lemon shortbread cookies. Shortbread is rather easy for children to make and let's them mush butter/flour around with their CLEAN hands.)

Keep in mind that the reason why I say I have to test the recipes is because yeah. I'm gonna be going away from the main recipe.

For instance and this is a relatively easy one.

One of the sad pies. Which WOULD work given how the pie itself is constructed.

Chess pie!

Two pie crusts.

Put the pie crusts into a dish and lightly bake on 450 for 8 minutes. Take out and cool.

Filling~~~~

Tangerine zest (1 tablespoon or about one to two tangerines)

Pinch of salt (1/4 teaspoon)

EDIT: (THIS IS WHY WRITE THINGS DOWN)

1 cup sugar

1/4 cup butter melted

1/3 cup of tangerine juice

1 tablespoon of cookie crumbs (very fine crums)

1 tablespoon of flour

4 eggs

Beat eggs till lightly frothy, add in the grated peel and sugar and whisk until combined. Add in the butter and mix. Then the cookie crumbs and flour. Then the juice. Mix until all combined.

Then put into oven turn down to 350 and bake. For 40 mins. Put aluminum foil around edges to prevent burning.

Chess pie usually uses cornmeal. But I'm thinking Hermione might always have cookies all about so using fine cookie crumbs would help. Maybe even more to help set the filling. Since this is more of a custard filling.

So like I said the idea is to change a bit of the traditional way a recipe is from Being written down just a little. Just enough to try to give it a tiny bit of flair and such.

Like for the lemon shortbread cookies I want to make them VERY lemony. So it's gonna have extra zest from normal.

Then the crumb bars. And Treacle tart pie that would be for Harry. That's three things to try to bake tomorrow. And that is JUST THE START.

Yes. Two pies and some shortbread cookies. I've got to make the crumb bars too. Hopefully some triple berry stuff I made for a persimmon pudding is still good to use for the crumb bar filling.

I'm gonna be using ginger snap cookie crumbs. My poor blender is gonna hate me. Lol.

#dramione #draco x hermione #measure of a man #fanfiction #baking #recipies #fanfiction recipies

[jaskierswolf]

hi wolfie it is i, the ramen man, i was wondering if you could write a prompt based on a baking competition tv show ? maybe even christmas themed if you want ?? no stress if you can't/don't wanna write it, i love u 🥺

This got... long? So you can also find on AO3

__________

Jaskier wasn’t stressed. He’d made this recipe a thousand times. It was his speciality!  No one made better chocolate brownies than he did but his presentation let him down. They were messy, gooey and delicious but this was a competition. They needed to look good too. He whined as he sat in front of his oven. Who made chocolate brownies for a cooking competition? Oh god he was an idiot.

He glanced around the room. Valdo Marx was busy finishing up his winter spiced cake and it smelled absolutely divine; the bastard. Plus he’d brought along some holly sprigs to make the whole thing look a bunch more christmassy. Jaskier had baked some orange slices to decorate his brownies. He also had some edible golden glitter for the top and a few spun sugar decoration for good luck. His secret ingredient though was Cointreau. The orange liqueur kept the brownies extra gooey in the centre without them being too rich.

He stared into the oven, chewing his bottom lip anxiously as he ran a hand through his hair. They were almost done. There was a shiny film over the top that would give the brownies a nice crunch. If he did well with these he would get into the next round; the final round. In that round they hand to create gingerbread houses, well more palaces. They had to absolute architectural masterpieces and he was shitting himself. Like his brownies, his gingerbread tasted amazing but it wasn’t always pretty. They were delicious and wonderful but not much to look at on the surface.

He’d only gotten so far because they tasted good.

“Come on, come on, come on!” He muttered and pressed his face against the glass.

He really needed to at least get to the final. There were smaller cash prizes for all finalists and the publicity from the competition would do wonders for his little bakery.

“How’s it going?” Triss Merigold, one of the presenters asked.

He shrugged. “Not much I can do until it’s finished baking. It always goes much faster when you’re watching this at home.”

Triss laughed. “Clever editing.”

“I just hope I’ve done enough,” he sighed. “Maybe I can charm the judges with my guitar skills instead…”

“Ah yes, they said you play. Is that a hobby?” Triss asked with forced politeness.

Jaskier scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Well, I wanted to play as a kid. I was going to be the next John Lennon but you know how it is. My gran taught me how to bake and I became addicted. I still write my own songs for my YouTube channel though.”

“Wow! That’s amazing!” Triss made it sound like the least amazing hobby on the planet.

Luckily the oven timer went off at that moment and Jaskier was able to crack on. He pricked the brownies to make sure they were cooked through before setting it aside to cool. Whilst they were cooling he grabbed his tray of sugar decorations and the orange slicer.

“Bakers! You have five minutes!” Triss called out.

“Oh bollocks!” He groaned. He wasn’t going to have enough time to let it cool before decorating. Luckily the brownies tasted better warm but they were also harder to get out of the tin in one piece. He whined pitifully but dug a knife around the edge of the tin before slicing the brownies into the neatest rectangles he could manage. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The camera man glared at him for swearing but he just stuck his tongue out. He was stressed, he was allowed to fucking swear! They were crumbling in his hands as he moved them to the plates. He cleaned up the crumbs as best as he could before showering them with edible glitter. He arranged the baked orange decorations as best he could so they looked slightly less terrible and then finally delicately placed the spun sugar on the top, only breaking two of the little shits in his hands.

“And stop!” Triss yelled and all the bakers stood back from their stations.

Valdo Marx was smiling smugly. His winter spiced cake looked fucking fantastic. On his other side stood Priscilla. She’d made cupcakes that were elegantly decorated to look like snowflakes, each one slightly different and beautiful. Next to Priscilla was Essi Daven. Her chocolate Yule Log looked amazing, Jaskier almost believed it was a real log.

Oh he was so going out.

He sighed and plastered a fake smile on his face as Yennefer Vengerberg re-entered the room.

“Time’s up bakers. You are apparently the best of the best but only three of you will make the final round. My expectations are high. I’m sure you’ll disappoint.” She smirked at them, violet eyes flashing dangerously. “Sadly, it is not only me that you must impress with these bakes.”

Jaskier felt his eyes widen. Shit, he’d forgotten that they brought in a second judge in this round. The bakers never knew who would be until they were introduced but it was always a famous chef and Jaskier suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Please welcome, my ex-husband… Geralt.”

Jaskier let out a pitiful whimper as Geralt fucking Rivia entered the room. The man was only his celebrity crush. He would be fine. It was going to be fine and holy shit he was even more gorgeous in real life.

Fuck.

“Now, as I am sure you are all away, Geralt and I have never once agreed on anything except our daughter. So this promises to be fun.” Yen drawled sarcastically.

Geralt chuckled and crossed his arms in front on his chest. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt and Jaskier’s entirely life was suddenly just Geralt’s arms.

They were so big.

“That is precisely why I was invited, Yen,” Geralt muttered with a fond smile. “Evens out the vote.”

“My vote is fine on its own.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.”

Jaskier zoned out the rest of the conversation as the other bakers made their way to the front to be judged. He was too entranced by the god stood before him. The long silver hair that was pulled up into a bun, revealing the oh so sexy undercut. Jaskier watched Geralt’s lips part as he tasted one of Priscilla’s cupcakes. He got some frosting stuck on the corner of his lips and Jaskier desperately wanted to help him lick it off, but instead Geralt’s tongue flicked out to catch it. Jaskier was weak.

He zoned back in long enough to notice with great satisfaction that Valdo’s cake was under-baked and a little bit shit, not even holly could save it. So Jaskier was still in with a chance, and then it was his turn. He was hoping the brownies would still be warm. If they’d cooled down too much then his presentation would probably fuck him over.

“Buttercup?” Yennefer raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “If you could stop drooling over my ex for two seconds, tell us about your… brownies?”

Jaskier’s fingers flexed and he tugged nervously at the edge of his shirt. “Ah yes. Umm. Hi,” He stammered and blushed as Geralt winked at him. “Brownies, orange. Chocolate orange brownies,” he swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. “I used dark chocolate mostly but there are chocolate orange chunks in there too, any orange flavoured chocolate is good. Orange zest, orange juice and umm.. oh ah, orange liqueur.”

“Aren’t you concerned the orange will overpower the chocolate?” Yen asked sharply.

Jaskier shrugged. “I make these every year. They sell well at the bakery.”

“Smells good,” Geralt noted.

“The presentation is shocking,” Yennefer countered.

“Yeah,” Jaskier admitted with a sheepish smile “but I can do better. If you give me a chance.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re running out of chances.”

“Yeah but I’m cute.” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them. He clapped his hand over his mouth and blush furiously. “I am so sorry!”

“Hmm.”

“Let’s just taste them shall we?” Yen suggested.

Jaskier nodded, still hiding behind his hands. “Please.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and he yelped.

“Relax, Jaskier,” Geralt murmured in a low voice.

Jaskier’s blush deepened and he smiled up at Geralt. Oh those eyes were like honey, so warm and inviting. There was still a small smudge of frosting on his lips that Jaskier hadn’t noticed before but now he couldn’t stop staring. He wondered if Geralt tasted as sweet as he looked. “Thanks, Geralt.”

“Geralt, stop flirting and taste the freaking brownie.”

“Yes, dear,” Geralt sighed.

Geralt took a bite of his brownie and fucking moaned. A quiet whimper escaped Jaskier’s lips. God he was going to melt on national television but he didn’t care. He’d had a chance to meet his favourite celebrity and Geralt had liked his baking! It was honestly life goals. The only thing he had left to tick off was his wedding to Geralt by the coast. That had always seemed like an unreachable fantasy that helped him sleep at night but now Geralt was right in front of him… it didn’t seem quite so far away.

“Fuck,” Geralt moaned. Jaskier chuckled, that would have to be beeped out in the final cut. “This is amazing!”

Yennefer looked surprised as she tried her own forkful of brownie. “Not bad, buttercup. Not bad at all. It melts in your mouth.”

“And the orange is actually subtler than I expected.” Geralt gave him a fond smile and Jaskier had to remind himself how to breathe.

“Ah, umm. Thanks, Thank you, Geralt.”

“It looks like dirt,” Yennefer said cooly “but it tastes heavenly. Presentation has always been your weakness, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened. Yennefer hadn’t called him ‘Jaskier’ since the first round when Triss had mentioned it was Polish for buttercup. “I know. I know!” He whined.

“If you get through to the final then you will fail miserably unless you can change that,” she added with a raised eyebrow.

“Taste won’t save you, no matter how cute you are,” Geralt smirked.

“I know. Wait hang on what?!” Jaskier stammered at Geralt’s words.

“You did good, buttercup. Well done.” Yennefer said firmly and rolled her eyes. “We’re done here.”

“Thank you, Yennefer, Geralt,” He nodded, definitely not still blushing as his gaze landed back on Geralt. “Thank you.”

____________

Jaskier screamed into the cushions as he threw himself down on the sofa. He’d fucking done it! He was in the final! He’d never imagined in a million years! Not to mention that Geralt Rivia thought he was cute. He wondered if he would be able to get Geralt’s autograph or whether that was just weird considering he was one of the judges.

“Jaskier?”

Jaskier rolled over so he could see Geralt, forgetting that the sofa wasn’t that wide and falling onto the floor. “Oh fuck!”

“Are you alright?” Geralt asked as he came over to help him stand up. Jaskier gripped Geralt’s forearm as he was pulled to his feet.

All other thoughts left his mind as he stared at the muscles in Geralt’s arms.

“Arms…” He blurted out. “I mean! Shit. Umm, oh god.”

Geralt just laughed and steadied him on his feet. “Look, I wanted to ask…. once the show is over and I’m no longer a judge. Did you want to get dinner?”

Jaskier gaped at Geralt. “I’m sorry what?”

“Unless I’ve completely misread the situation. Fuck. Sorry. Look you can say no, I won’t score you worse because of it,” Geralt paled and crossed his arms in front of his  chest. “We’ll pretend this never happened.”

“No, Geralt wait!” Jaskier grabbed his arm. “Yes, ask me again after the final but yes. Dinner sounds great.”

Geralt smiled faintly and nodded. “Great.”

“Great,” Jaskier repeated. “It’s a date!”

Geralt nodded again. “I have to go. We shouldn’t be seen alone together until after the final.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

“Good luck, Jaskier.”

Jaskier grinned dopily as he watched Geralt walk away. It looked like Christmas magic was a real thing after all. “Yeah, you too.”

Wait. You too? Oh fuck it. _____________ Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @victorieschild @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @scribblesonmapleleaves @thecomfortofoldstorries @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @ohheytheremiss @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday @kozkaboi

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier pankratz #triss merigold #modern au #christmas prompt #wolfie's witcher writing #ramenyul #winter prompts

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Whoopsie King Rhoam’s a dick but I gotta flesh him out so

Read Part 1 here!

Part 2

If you’re on mobile, and tumblr hates this post, follow along on this google doc!

Rules/overview this rewrite in the beginning of Part 1

‘sup ya beautiful bastards it’s time to gush about the process of storytelling and writing as we fix up the fix it fic so let’s just jump into it

- - - - - - - - - - 

A quick recap of Part 2, and I swear this recap is faster than the recap last time: Chapter 3 of Age of Calamity opens with a more substantial scene the beginning points of Revali’s character, and contrasting the old position that Link and eggbot have, so that their later changes in this chapter (well, at least for Link in this chapter) are more pronounced. We edited a bit of the dialogue to make Revali’s intentions make a bit more sense, while also putting some little foreshadowing points with some camera tricks for the Hollow Champions. The Hollow Champions can now speak, which means their potential for being used to bring out the flaws or bitter aspects of each character is more readily available further into the story. And of course, we’ve introduced the main antagonist of Astor, and coupling his presence and dynamic with Zelda’s insecurities. While his intentions of needing Zelda for something is clear, his motivations and backstory remain a mystery as of yet, the only true clue we have so far being some sort of connection to eggbot. 

I didn’t get any big asks or comments about Part 2 so I’m going to assume that it was mostly well received (although I will note that I promise I’m going to flesh out Revali to be more than he has been presented as of yet, this is just the very very start of this development don’t you worry your feather loving butts) that being said, you should totally critique me or give me your opinions or comments. I’d love to hear them! Although, keep in mind that I am restraining my rewrite to the guidelines already said, so don’t get mad at me for not killing off all the Champions or something. Thaaat’s a rewrite for another time. So yeah if you reblog you get a little kiss from me because believe it or not I spent a lot of time trying to rewrite an entire storyline while keeping it’s tone and integrity intact. So thanks much <3

Okie dokie then chaps! Let us finally delve into Urbosa lesbian vibes, a zest of Zelink angst, rants about pacing, and a couple tablespoons of Astor backstory, all starting in the latest stage of Chapter 3: The Road Home, Besieged 

So right of the bat, big problem here. This Chapter follows directly after the events of Korok Forest, so you assume that maybe “The Road Home” refers to the team, going home, back to the castle, to tell King Rhoam what’s up. But...that’s apparently not the case. 

So this entire stage, firstly, it brushes over any scenes where Zelda, Link or the other Champions might talk to King Rhoam about the Master Sword, or the Deku Tree, or...hmm what else happened last stage that might be interesting to see—oh yEAH HOW ABOUT that mysterious magic guy that tried to kill Zelda and was going off about the future and stuff?? That guy that wielded a bunch of dark magic and malice looking stuff and, uh yeah, you’d think it might be important and interesting to see the King’s take on was is essentially a wanted traitor to the crown who may or may not be leading the entire movement for the Calamity’s uprising. But nope, no one asks questions, no one says anything or has interesting conversations that reveal stuff about the plot. It's just….just all about Zelda and ooooOOooo she can’t awaken her powers oh no what’s a gal to do!

And I do mean that quite literally, this entire stage is all centered around two scenes with Zelda. The first, an admittedly narratively important scene of Zelda having a quick flashback about eggbot after he sings her a song, but it lasts for five seconds. And the second, being a pep talk with Urbosa as Link eats rocks in the background. For the majority of this stage, it’s all focused on Zelda, and pacing wise, it does virtually nothing to progress the narrative/plot forward.

And on paper, there’s nothing wrong with that! Hell, people read entire fanfictions dedicated to character development and relationships that have absolutely no external plot. Having a scene dedicated to just character development is completely fine, it’s something that’s pretty common and even encouraged to an extent. The problem arises when you remember that this is a story being told through the medium of a video game. 

Now, I am going to try and  breeze by this because, similar to Age of Calamity, I have to also construct this post with pacing that keeps my audience engaged, while progressing with my core narrative and story. But I highly encourage you to watch through this video by hello future me (On Writing: How to Master Pacing) because a lot of what I know about this I’ve picked up from his videos, and if you’re a writer or just someone who thinks storytelling is cool, it’s a great guide to the art of pacing.

Anyhow. There are two levels of pacing within a story. There is the small type of pacing, like for the structure of a singular scene. And there is the pacing of the overall core narrative, how the larger beats of the entire story is revealed. Good pacing for your core narrative is about whether the reader feels like they are getting closer to the big thing, the big climax or answer or promise of satisfaction. The smaller type of pacing, for your singular scenes, focuses on that timing between how close you get to achieving new information, this refers to  your slow and fast pacing, tension versus rapid action.  

So, overall the rule of thumb is: the amount of time you invest into your smaller scenes, even put together, that must correlate with a big enough payoff in the core narrative. That’s what good pacing is. (And that’s why people make stuff like the Three Act Structure to help visualize this pacing process but obviously other forms of pacing guidelines exist like the Five and Seven Act Structures but that’s too complicated for this Nintendo Game anyhow that’s just some educational flavour for ya to impress your highschool English Teacher I guess) 

So knowing that, the question now is: Does The Road Home, Besieged contribute good pacing to the story? This is going to be my excuse for changing up other later scenes in the game, so when I mention pacing and narrative again, remember this. The time spent playing for thirty minutes, minimum, in the game, to only be paid off by two lines of character development isn’t good pacing. So the answer is “no.” 

Delving as long an amount of time as thirty minutes, means that pretty much everytime a stage is complete, you must introduce new substantial progress to your story. A game like this just doesn’t have time to waste it’s valuable cutscenes on character development alone. There’s an even further wrench in the issue when you consider you also need to account for sidequests, so you could really be forcing your player to go through hours of gametime before you introduce new details in the story. 

Obviously it’s not always gonna be cut and dry like that—sometimes you have to account for how enjoyable the gameplay is, and sometimes the amount of character development offsets any lack of narrative development—but for the majority of stages I’m gonna change, they all suffer this pacing problem. In a game that's entire story hinges on these cutscenes, bad pacing is just something it doesn’t have time for.

Anyhow anyhow anyhow, I got to get my dose of serotonin by talking about pacing writing structure and stuff and blah blah, so now I shall grace you with the changes that address these problems that would theoretically lead to vast improvement. I gave you this reasoning and backstory to writing because I am making hella changes, to hopefully make the experience more “poggers,” which is something the cool kids say these days if you didn’t know. 

Firstly, timeline wise this stage is gonna take place directly after the Korok Forest battle. The gang is returning home from the battle, with Link, the new wielder of the Master Sword, along with this new information regarding a certain Astor character. 

We open the same way it does in game, focusing on Zelda’s face, before the frame is suddenly blocked by the pommel of the Master Sword. A wordless way to express how the sudden revelation of Link being the hero has forced its way into Zelda’s mind, great use of camera Koei Tecmo 10 outta 10

Now I don’t want to immediately jump into Zelda’s “oh poor me I can’t awaken my powers” dialogue because—and this is something even Breath of the Wild is guilty of—This game seems to forget that there are other characters besides Zelda. It’s marketed towards kids, sure, but I assure you that kids playing this game have a longer attention span than 2 minutes. You don’t need to keep reminding the audience every single scene about how Zelda is anxious about her powers. It gets redundant, you waste the audience’s time, and therefore you waste your own time, because you could have been using that precious screen time to develop some other thing further.  So anyhow, goes a bit like this. 

Zelda’s walking, the Master Sword comes into frame. Zelda looks down at the ground but keeps walking, but you can tell from her expression that she’s troubled. Don’t need to waste time on dialogue for her here, show don’t tell, we need to make the most of the scene here. Camera is still on Zelda, but the focus blurs shifts from Zelda to the Champions behind her. We can start with Mipha, I don’t have my heart set heavily on any specific dialogue, but I want her to say something along the lines of “how proud she is of Link” and what an honor it will be to fight by the side of not just her dear friend, but also someone selected by the goddess to be the hero. Subtextually, I want her to say this in a tone that suggests that she doubts the need for her to be here at all. She’ll say something like “He’s grown so…” glances up at Link who's just walking ahead, “...so much stronger than I could ever imagine. [Something Something] His power has grown so much over the course of a few days, more than I have achieved in a lifetime.” She looks down, but she still has a sweet smile. 

Now I’m doing this because I want to develop further this plot line of “getting stronger” that Age of Calamity sets up but never does anything with. Remember how in Chapter 2, Mipha asks Daruk to train with her to get stronger? I really like the possibilities of this arc with Mipha as it can not only parallel with her feelings for Link, but also make her character better as an individual. Mipha wants to get stronger so that she can protect Link, but now she thinks that Link’s already growing stronger to an extent that she might not be needed. She’s not jealous of Link, nor does she wish him to be weaker, she simply wants to be more than she already is. This is literally echoing her words that she left her father, about how leaving the Domain and experiencing new challenges would be “good for her.” So I wanna run with it. The dialogue here establishes Mipha’s motivation to grow stronger, almost equivalent to a rivalry of sorts. 

So after Mipha says this, Revali scoffs and butts in. Again, I’m not too set on any particular dialogue here, just something like “Hmph! Well, I don’t know about that. Seems to me all that’s happened is some magic sword gave the knight an ego boost. Blade’s only as strong as the little Hylian who wields it, and—based on my own extended experience and professional observations of course—I’ve yet to see this ‘stronger’ boy that you speak of.” Another camera pan to Link a ways in front of them. “If you ask me, hero or no, that knight is still exactly the same as I first met him.”

Revali places a wing on his chest dramatically. “Perhaps if you’re truly keen on seeing growth in skill and strength, Mipha, you’d do well to—”

“Flattering of an offer as that may be, Revali,” Urbosa interjects, “But I think Mipha might find it difficult to observe growth from one of the shortest Rito in Hyrule.”

Cue laughter from others or snickering or something. We just need some banter to add a bit more flavour to the characters. Revali can do a little huff and cross his wings or flip his scarf or something. But then Urbosa continues. 

“Although...he is right about one thing.” Urbosa looks straight ahead. “A sword does not alter a hand, just as strength does not alter character.” She puts a hand on Mipha’s shoulder. “Grow as he might, there is no doubt in my mind that he is the same boy as he’s always been.” Urbosa looks up in the direction of Zelda. “Whether you realize it or not.”

Ok so, scene’s not done yet, BUT quick gush on the dialogue flow here. I’m trying to establish parallels in these character perspectives based on the flow of conversation. We started with Mipha who, like I said, wished to grow stronger along with Link. This flows into Revali who also has a similar parallel as he wishes to grow above Link’s shadow. But the distinction between Mipha and Revali is that Mipha think’s Link’s strength is earned, and Revali thinks he cheated, gaining authority through a magic sword, and not through merit and skill. Thus, leading to Revali’s perspective of Link being exactly the same as he’s always been, he believes the sword doesn’t change anything. Urbosa then speaks, because she thinks exactly the same thing. However, her distinction is that Link is the same as he’s always been: a determined young boy earned his place and cares for his friends. Then she looks to Zelda who, as we know, will develop a perspective that contradicts this. So you get it? This scene is like 20 seconds long but it already mirrors nearly all the character parallels and perspective, that’s why the flow of dialogue is important. And I know half of you probably think these kinds of details are a stretch but I promise you it’s not, just look at any movie or show ever and I guarantee you can find similar stuff there too. Ok moving on moving on— 

Urbosa looks up at Zelda, comments her, “He’s the same boy, whether you realize it or not” piece of dialogue. Camera shifts back to Zelda and Link, who, idk if I mentioned this, but in the scene there’s enough distance between the Champions and Zelda and Link that the Champions can speak without the other two listening. So they didn’t hear any of this. 

So the camera is back on Zelda, and now we can get her “How can I…..If I am unable to awaken my inner power….” line. Eggbot senses her sadness, does his little cheer up dance, Zelda gets a flashback.

One small change I wanna make to this flashback: Instead of just a baby Zelda going “nighty-night” I want there to ALSO be a figure in the background behind eggbot wearing a silk royal blue dress. And said woman has blonde hair and she’s by the table back there. We don’t have to show her face or anything because Nintendo hates that. Just place the woman somewhere in the back somewhere

Also possibly you could add the shadow of another figure by the doorway, maybe? It would serve good continuity purposes for the plot points that I’m telling, but that part is not as necessary. I just need at least the woman there. 

Then Zelda is like “I remember you” to eggbot and all that and blah blah… Now, instead of Impa offscreen just yelling “enemy ahead!” I just want it to be a full on ambush. Not like a major one, but just enough where the group is surprised a bit. Maybe on the cliffs above, a lizalfo throws a boomerang, or a bokoblin shoots and arrow, or even just throws a rock. I don’t really care. I just need this to happen because…

As soon as this danger is presented, Link turns around to grab Zelda’s hand and they start running again. And he can like use his body to try and shield her a bit, I need it to parallel how he acted during Chapter 1 on the road to the Royal Tech Lab. However, this parallel has one important distinction because…

Zelda rips he grip from Link’s after a moment. “You don’t need to coddle me!” She says, or something along those lines. “Y-You...You’re the hero aren’t you! I’m perfectly fine, you don’t need to spend your precious time playing babysitter to me.” In the distance, a horde of monsters is beginning to form. Zelda looks between the monsters and Link’s Master Sword, her expression unreadable. “Well? Just...just go do what you need to do.” Link hesitates, looking between her, and the approaching monsters. Zelda speaks more sternly now, “Go!” So Link, not one to disregard an order from the Princess, gives one last look to Zelda before setting off towards the monsters. Maybe Zelda can take a deep breath to steady herself after he leaves, but as soon as Link unsheathes his sword, the metal glistening in the setting sunlight, it cuts immediately to gameplay. Start battle. 

For essays’ purposes this is the part where I explain why this is better than the original. So here’s my reasoning:

Uhhh, it just is. :3

Ok but seriously, I’ve already talked a tone about why the pacing and dialogue flow is better than the original. But also this scene doesn’t just say “Ooo Zelda is sad about her powers,” because that’s not interesting. Like I said, it’s redundant information. What is interesting is see how characters deal with that internal conflict and how it affects their relationships. AKA Zelda’s relationship with Link, who now basically embodies the success that she’s been working so hard towards but never achieved, is deteriorating a bit. I wanted to get that sense of the Zelda that we see in Breath of the Wild because all things considered, they should be roughly the same character.

So that’s that, you fight the battle, the Hollows show up a bit, so insert “dark evil Champion” dialogue because if you’re gonna use the evil clone trope might as well use it to the fullest. Then you fight the Talus and hurray horrah the day is saved. 

Then we have that iconic Urbosa motherly pep talk to Zelda as Link eats rocks in the background. Now honestly, I’m not that big a fan of the first half of the dialogue, so I wanna change it into something more interesting. But the rest of the beats and camera work go roughly the same. 

Zelda: “Link is...so much stronger now”

Urbosa: “‘And yet I have not.’ I presume that’s what you’re thinking, hmm?”

Zelda: “Well it’s true, isn’t it? More and more, monsters have been appearing around Hyrule. It is a sign that the Calamity draws near. So...there isn’t much time. And still, no sign of my power awakening.”

Urbosa: *sighs* “Little bird…”

Zelda cuts her off, in an attempt to change topics: “Why do you call me that?”

Urbosa: “Hmm?”

Zelda: “Little bird...I feel like I’ve heard it before. Why do you call me that?”

Urbosa, after a beat looks off in the distance or something: “A long time ago, my dear friend would call me to the palace, or perhaps invite herself over to mine, [she chuckles] ...and she would talk with me all day, and ask me to gaze upon her little bird with her. Her dearest daughter...a princess”

Zelda: “You mean my…”

Urbosa just smiles with a soft nod: “Back then, times were a bit different. The destiny that you have was still upon the Queen, who worked day and night to refine her powers and fulfill her destiny. In just a few short years, I went from being friends with a Queen, to friends with the destined sealer of the Calamity.”

Another pause, before Urbosa speaks again: “But...she was still the same woman I had grown with. Still the same loving mother who spoke about her little bird with joy. She had not changed one bit.”

Urbosa: “Even when your mother passed, her loving smile was there until the very end. She always loved you—believed in you, Zelda. She had great hope, great faith that her daughter would grow into the beacon of light Hyrule needed. That even with her gone, you would spread your wings and fly, because you were just that amazing to her.” *Urbosa puts her hands on Zelda’s shoulders.*

Urbosa: “Destiny did not change your mother’s love, just as it does not change Link’s courage, or your value.” *the camera can pan to Link eating rocks now*

Urbosa looks directly at Zelda now: “Look how hard we’ve all worked to get this far, how hard you have worked to get here. While we may grow in strength, in that regard, we’re all one in the same.”

Zelda: “...I….well…”

Urbosa: “What did the Great Deku Tree say? There is no need to fret princess.”

Urbosa: “Our faith, Link’s, your mother’s, it’s all as strong as ever. And everyday, with every moment that you travel towards your destiny, it just grows. It is always with us. So believe in that, have hope, yet, little bird.” *Eggbot can scurry up and make cute noises here next to Zelda*

Urbosa: “I know, you are where you need to be. You must accept that too.”

Zelda: “...”

Zelda gives a solemn nod: “Thank you, Urbosa.”

So that’s that scene! Don’t let the length fool you, it’s technically even shorter than the original scene in Age of Calamity. So why is it, in my opinion, better? Because for one, we actually get an insight into Zelda’s mom and Urbosa’s relationship, something that was PROMISED To us but never given and I’m still a bit salty about it. Anyhow, in addition to just getting some lore details, that relationship between the Queen and Urbosa is important for this scene because, just like Urbosa spells out, it’s in direct parallel with Link and Zelda. 

Before the Queen suddenly got sick and died, she was destined to seal the Calamity. But she didn’t let that destiny change her, she was still the same loving mother to the end. Now that is something that Zelda needs to realize about Link, as his newly acquired destiny doesn’t change who he was before, the knight who cares for her and wishes to protect her. Zelda needs to realize he’s the same and that she can still trust and confide in him. Hence, that’s why this mom backstory is in this scene and not somewhere else, because it serves to the narrative but also more impactfully to the character development. 

The dialogue could probably be polished a bit more but come on, not half bad for an improvement yeah? So that concludes Chapter—

SIKE we’re not done yet. We still have to move into the entire point of this stage, the road home, to the castle. 

So, badabing badaboom, I’m adding an entirely new scene from scratch right here at the end, because it is VITAL that I set up something new about the story, as a sort of clincher. So anyhow 

Zelda is alone with her father, let’s set it in the royal library (Intact, not ruined, of course) because we don’t see enough of that location and it’s really cool. So Zelda is briefing her dad about the events in Korok Forest and on the journey back home. I know I always gush about cinematography but it can’t be fully appreciated since I’m….writing,,, this, BUT I think it might be fun if the side shots of Zelda have her background be some bookcases of the library, maybe half bookcases and the other half the ornate walls. Then the background for the King’s shots is the full symmetry of the elegant staircases.

[And if you needed the specific reasoning for that, because it makes camera shots more fun. Like when Zelda says something that aids in her scholarly side, the camera angle can change slightly where the bookcases take up more of the frame, and then when the King’s will takes more power, then the book cases can be angled a bit more out of frame. And then the symmetry of the King by the staircase is a way to show his higher power dynamic to her, and contrasts well with Zelda’s shots since the bookcases are dark and the stone is lighter, so on a meta level is also makes it easier for the audience to understand where they are. Shot composition is fun ok, and that’s not even getting into color theory (Thinks about Baby Driver and LaLaLand....even videogames like Undertale and Hollow Knight have such wonderful shot composition and use of color theory hhhhh love it)]

Ok so Zelda’s briefing the King in the library, she’s standing while he’s sitting at a desk. There’s maybe two or four Royal Guards on the staircase entrances, but for the most part, they’re alone. You can tell that this meeting between them has been going on for a bit now, as from Zelda’s dialogue, she’s retelling events midway through the story. 

The King is flipping through some paperwork, not really looking Zelda in the eyes. She continues speaking. 

“And so...with the malice cleared and the monsters being dealt with, Link and I made our way into the heart of Korok Forest.”

The King hums a response, flipping through another page. “And this is when Link pulled out the Sword that Seals the Darkness then, I presume.”

Zelda paused, as of thinking of how to phrase her next words. “Not exactly. I...we both encountered someone beforehand. A man, with a pale face, and dark hair and robes, and he had the power to control malice, using a strange object in one of his hands.” 

Rhoam stops writing in his journal or whatever. He doesn’t look up, but the sudden stop he makes is obvious. Zelda notices, but continues. 

“He talked about...the Calamity, and my birthday...destiny, and the future….I’m not quite sure I can remember his intentions word for word. But he did introduce himself as—“

“Astor…” Zelda and the King say simultaneously. The King has fully perked up now, looking at Zelda. She’s pleased to see a reaction from him. The King rises from his chair, and starts pacing a bit, stroking his beard thoughtfully like the asshole he is. 

“So you know him then? This Astor man? Who is he, father? What does he—“

“Were you alright? Did he hurt you, or mention anything else?”

Zelda pauses for a moment before shaking her head, as if the concern he was expressing was uncharacteristic. “N-No. No, I’m fine, and Link was there. During the battle, as Link fought him off, that was when the sword was pulled. Then Astor fled, or...” Zelda pauses for a beat, “retreated...he expressed his wish to speak with me again.”

Another beat of silence, as Rhoam gets up, hands clasped behind his back. “He used to work at this very palace.” The shot is now directly on Rhoams back, as he faces a bookcase, although it’s clear that he’s just deep in thought, and not just staring at books. Rhoam is in third column of the shot (he’s to the right, not in the center) 

“A trusted advisor. Someone gifted with foresight, who many years ago, had first predicted the coming Calamity.” Cut to shot of Rhoams face, the camera being by the bookcase, so that we see Rhoam’s expression and Zelda’s.

“In truth, I thought him dead. For the last time I saw him alive—truly, truly alive—was ten long years ago...” The shot goes back to the original establishing shot, of Rhoam facing away from the camera, towards the bookcase, he’s standing to the right, hands still clasped behind his back.

“...when your mother still graced this earth.”

From left frame, a younger Astor walks up and stands beside Rhoam. He runs his fingers along the books. Rhoam looks to his left, as if he is seeing Astor. Camera cuts to Astor’s right, as if looking at him from Rhoam’s perspective. He continues brushing his fingers against the spines of the books, before he finds the one he’s looking for. Pulling it out, he opens the book, flipping through its pages, before giving a genuine smile. Cut back to wide angle behind them. With the book, Astor starts walking back out left frame, but this time the camera follows him. Filter fade to a memory tint as the camera pans right to left

[when the camera fades fully into the Astor memory, the figures can have that silhouetted effect like you see in botw. Cause I know Nintendo hates making new character models for some reason.] 

So if it wasn’t clear already, even though the memory filter doesn’t come immediately, Astor isn’t actually there, but it’s just a flashback. I’m a sucker for merges, which is something this game and botw NEVER do which bugs me because there are so many creative ways you could introduce flashbacks without just doing “ooOooOoo fade to sepia filter and then oooOOooOOO we fade back to reality and no time has passed.” I apologize if my explanation of the camera doesn’t make sense as it’s hard without much visual aid, but hopefully it makes sense so far. Anyhow! Let’s continue.

We’re now fully immersed in this memory, but King Rhoam’s voice still narrates overhead. 

Astor brings the book to one of the desks in the library, where a woman sits writing something onto paper. News flash, it’s the queen. Astor hands her the book and starts speaking about something, although you can tell the tone of their conversation is light, almost akin to Zelda rambling about Sheikah Technology. The Queen laughs about something unheard, as Astor continues ranting about something, his hands moving to like a professor giving a lecture. 

Rhoam Narration: “When he had first predicted the Calamity, things were much more hopefully for our kingdom. As although his foresight granted him only glimpses and fragments of a future, he was almost certain that with the Guardians, and the strength of your mother’s power, our victory would be absolute.”

Scene changes to the Queen walking down a corridor, Astor is leaning against the wall by a window. 

Rhoam Narration: “He and your mother would often work together tirelessly to study the ancient arts, to make the most of the powers given by the goddess.”

The Queen has walked up to Astor now. She crouches down and gestures to her left, the side not yet seen by the camera.

Rhoam Narration: “In fact…”

The camera changes to focus to where the Queen was looking towards—a young Zelda, crouched behind her mother’s dress, stares up at Astor. 

Rhoam Narration: “I would not be surprised if you found within yourself, a memory of such.”

I would prefer if you could see the expressions of Astor (giving Zelda not a smile, but not really a frown or anything rude either) and young Zelda. But I guess it can also just be silhouettes too cause again, Nintendo hates giving us younger character models outside of first person POV stuff. Anyhow. 

The scene fades, the light from the window dimming as everything darkens.

Rhoam Narration: “I often times wish we could go back to such a time, when victory and pride swam in every corner of this castle.  But of course…”

The scene brightens again, although not as bright as before. It’s the exact same corridor with the large window, but now it’s raining. A young Zelda stands alone in front of it, looking outside.

Rhoam Narration: “Such a time did end…”

We now cut to a new scene, King Rhoam is walking down a hall, the camera’s perspective is of a bird’s eye view, like we’re peering in from outside a window. We can see the shadow of Astor chasing after him, as he starts speaking frantically about something, not quite, but almost to the point of shouts. 

Rhoam Narration: “After your mother died, the visions of the future shifted drastically. No longer was there glimpses of rolling fields and shimmering skies, but instead, of rubble, red earth, and death.”

You can now more clearly hear the words coming out of Astor’s mouth. He is telling something about failure, and souls, and the Calamity to the King’s ear. He’s still walking forward.

Rhoam Narration: “He was adamant that our demise was now coming faster than ever, and that without your mother, we were doomed. That even you, should you take up your mother’s mantle, could not save everyone.”

Astor: “I’m telling you Your Majesty, if you go down this path, there is no going back.”

King Rhoam: “There is no other choice, we are moving forward.”

Astor: “I don’t think you quite understand the true gravity of the fate you’re choosing for yourself. It is a guarantee that you, me, and countless others shall die.”

King Rhoam: “I don’t want to hear it.”

Astor: “And of course, there are a multitude of possibilities, but the end result is the same.”

Astor: “Do you have a preference, perhaps? Crushed by rubble? Suffocation under ash?”

Rhoam’s tone is deadly: “Stop.”

Astor: “I’ve seen fire too. I’m not yet quite sure the exact circumstances that lead to flame appearing and spreading so quickly, but rest assured that if you—”

King Rhoam: “Stop.” 

Astor: “If you saddle someone else with this duty I am absolutely certain that you and I will—” 

King Rhoam, voice not shouting, but still with a booming intensity: “Just like you were so certain of our victory 10 years ago?”

Astor’s face darkens. He’s silent for a moment, collecting his words before practically spitting the first articulation: “...That, future, was the one that would come to be if Her Majesty was alive. If you’re so unsatisfied with my departed wisdom you can go ahead and flail around with destiny alone. You think I choose for these events to happen? You think I lie when I saw I want what’s best for this kingdom—”

King Rhoam: “What’s best for you.”

An ugly pause.

King Rhoam: “It is decided, Seer. It’s time you accept this. My wife is dead. That is the truth. Thus the role of sealing the Calamity shall pass to my daughter. She will work to awaken her own ability. It will be her duty to save us.”

Astor half laughs: “A child?! Surely you don’t need the supernatural to see how foolish that is.”

King Rhoam’s voice is even more stern: “You are living proof that the future is not absolute. Therefore I...must place all belief in her ability.”

The King walks away, leaving Astor alone. Weirdly, he smiles. Perhaps to mask some other emotion.  

After another moment, Astor yells to the King: “I’ll fix this! Alone if I must!” He’s chuckling as he shakes his head. “Your useless faith may cost many lives, but even so mark my words, I will fix this.”

The King looks back, but says nothing, his expression unreadable. He continues forward, leaving Astor alone chuckling, or perhaps something in between chuckling and crying to himself.  

Rhoam Narration: “We haven’t spoken since that day. I simply left him to his devices. If he was so determined to find another way to stop the Calamity, then who was I to stop him. I doubt my word could have swayed his mind regardless.

We’re now looking at a room, the camera is just by the doorway, looking at an office, circular and domed. It’s stone brick walls are covered in parchment and ripped books, covered in symbols and frantic writing. An old Sheikah tapestry hangs crudely on the left wall, and the window on the right seems to tint grey, or even a deepest crimson. Centerframe, is the back of Astor, robe hanging just above the paper ridden floor. He is flipping through something on his desk. 

Rhoam Narration: “Fixated as he was on the perfect future that you mother might have led, I still had hope that with time, he might still assist you with your destiny one day.”

The camera slowly comes closer to Astor. We can see more clearly the type of stuff that sprawls the papers and books and diagrams across his office. Some depict stars and constellations, and even a few notes on Ancient Technology, although in a noticeably cleaner font. However, as the camera moves close and closer to Astor, the papers and books depict only one clear topic: the aura of death that comes only with necromancy. 

Rhoam Narration: “It seems…”

Astor finally reacts to whatever he was doing on his desk. You don’t see his eyes, but as he fully turns around to face the camera, you see his smile, along with him holding a dark orb of unknown energy. It hovers in his hand. 

Rhoam Narration: “...I was mistaken.” 

The camera cuts to a wide angle, looking at Astor from behind a stack of books on his desk. The stack of books on Astor’s desk brighten in color (from the memory dull filter), until the scene fully fades back into the Royal Library. The camera is now focused on a similar stack of books on the desk behind Zelda, where Rhoam was working before. 

Zelda is still looking at her father, who is still turned away. Now, he turns back around to face her.

“He had disappeared completely one day, so it was my understanding that whatever he was working on killed him. However, if he is truly back as you say…”

Rhoam walks closer to Zelda, close enough that he might have put a hand on her shoulder, but his arms stay behind his back.

“It is in your utmost interest to prove him wrong. I know not what he plans on doing, but it would be wise to stop him before he does.”

Rhoam turns away now, pacing back to the otherside of the desk. “But, your more important priority is unlocking your powers, understand? Now more than ever, is not the time to get distracted.”

Zelda, taking this all in, takes a deep breath. She then nods at him. “I understand...Father.”

After a moment, the King makes a motion as if to dismiss her. She starts to walk away, her thoughts churning in her head, heart thumping to the same beat as her echoing footsteps. Suddenly, Rhoam calls, 

“Zelda.” It’s not a question, but the tone is asked like one.

She turns back, looking at him, expectantly. Rhoam only stares at her, an uncharacteristic moment of uncertainty for him. The words he wants to form seem stuck in his throat, until finally, he lets out a quiet breathe through his nose, before simply saying:

“You must.”

Zelda can only frown, her shoulder’s slumping slightly, as she ducks her head and leaves.

- - - - - - 

And that’s that! That’s the complete end of Chapter 3. So tune in next time for Chapter 4, including a new slight but important story changes, Yiga husbands, and shocking turns of events.

Edit: I forgot that posts with link’s dont show up in tag results so a rb is appreciated :p

#Hwaoc: The Kip Cut #fuck this is the biggest one yet #hwaoc #age of calamity #hwaoc rewrite #hw age of calamity #hyrule warriors age of calamity

[crown-anon]

hi!! I write things sometimes :)

I'm gonna revamp this post soon. I'm working on a google form for requests so you don't have to go through all the rules every time you want me to write something. I know they're easy to forget!

general rules

I write most genres. even if I've never heard of it before, I'd probably like writing it

I write AUs, but I'm not very knowledgeable about them. I'll ask you to explain an AU in more detail if I've never heard of it before

I write for existing ships and reader inserts. I'm neutral on the pro/anti ship discourse, and whether or not I'll write a toxic relationship is really on a case-by-case basis. ask first

I write headcanons (bullet list format), imagines (short with several paragraphs, dialogue, continuity, etc.), and one-shots (like imagines, but a lot longer & more structured). specify your desired format in your request

I write multiple separate relationships ("multiple characters") for headcanons and imagines, at your request. in general, the more separate relationships, the shorter each headcanon/imagine will be

I write poly relationships! when requesting multiple people for headcanons and imagines, specify if you mean poly. otherwise, I'll assume you mean multiple mono relationships. I also write poly in one-shots

I write references to past abuse ambiguously in the context of healing and recovery. flashbacks included

I write self-harm and gore, past and present, if you want. I find it cathartic

I don't write for woman or she/her readers. it makes me really dysphoric. I assume readers are gender-neutral, so specify if you prefer something else, please

I don't write for OCs. I'd like to keep my reader inserts as inclusive as possible for any audience who desires to read them, not just the original requester

I don't write ongoing abuse. yandere is abuse

constructive criticism is welcomed and desired!!

if I produce any content that makes you uncomfortable, ask me to tag it and I will :) we do not have to be mutuals, reader comfort is my top priority. I'm starting out with the AO3 rating and content warning system for now. eventually this post will contain a tag list for your convenience

if there is a request that I don't want to write for whatever reason, I'll answer it and address it. I know it feels bad to be left waiting and wondering

if you as a requester want the reader to, or pointedly not, express their gender a certain way (like makeup and dresses, or suits, or whatever, especially if it's GNC for their gender), let me know so I can incorporate your preferences in the writing!

I'm still in school, so…go easy on me, haha. but I graduate this spring so fucking POG. even so, my posting will be irregular and unscheduled because mental illness 💔 so be prepared for that

in the future, I want to write for many fandoms! they will all have their own subsets of rules, as follows:

minecraft youtube (MCYT) rules

I currently only write for the dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound, and Sapnap. this is subject to change in the future as I consume more MCYT content and become more acquainted with other creators. I don't think I could do them justice at this time

if a content creator sees this and is uncomfortable with something here, 1. I am so, so sorry, & 2. DM me and I'll remove it :)

I haven't had the time to watch dream SMP, so I can't write for the characters, I only write for the real life people right now. this is subject to change. I will, however, write for them in a minecraft setting if it is wanted, just not in the actual SMP. and no spoilers, please!

I use their real names (unless they've said it makes them uncomfortable). if you're requesting something and you want me to use their screen names instead, please specify

enjoy your stay!! xoxo

edited 10 March 2021

explicit content will be tagged "#limeade-zest," so block that tag if you don't want to see it.

explicit rules (under the cut)

I write dubcon in most cases, usually only with implied consent (e.g. anything that was negotiated in advance, like somnophilia)

I write most kinks. if you're requesting smut, specify which, if any, kinks/dynamics you wish to include

I don't write dom/little, as it is a trigger of mine

I don't write noncon or CNC. you can thank the trauma for that one!

I don't write tickling. I refuse to associate that with sex. I just can't do it

I don't write unsanitary kinks. (is spit-as-lube unsanitary? spit-as-lube is alright.) I specifically mean things like coprophilia, emetophilia, and urophilia

on the subject of anatomy, if you as a requester want me to use certain language when referencing the reader's body, please specify! I do write for readers with AFAB bodies, as well as (obviously) AMAB bodies and transmasculine bodies at any stage. I would love to include intersex, but I am not very knowledgeable on that, so bear with me, please

enjoy your stay!! xoxo

edited 10 March 2021

#dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #clay x reader #georgenotfound x reader #george x reader #george davidson x reader #sapnap x reader

[fific7]

Unexpected - Part 3

King Caspian x Reader

Summary: What happens if you push the respectful and well-behaved King Caspian a little too far? You’re about to find out.

A/N: The final chapter. This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with some lemon zest 🍋 Friends to Lovers AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including debatable consent at first, loss of virginity and oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My video edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Ever since his hasty departure from your study, Caspian had not exactly avoided you but had taken to just popping his head round the door and wishing you a cheerful good day before disappearing again. You had smiled to yourself. It certainly did seem that you had some kind of an effect on the King. You weren’t absolutely sure what that was, but it appeared to be a positive one.

You were excitedly planning an outfit for that evening as a banquet was being held to celebrate Cornelius’ birthday. No-one had mentioned how old he actually was and you weren’t sure if that was because they didn’t know or if they were just being tactful. You’d bought him three new quills as his gift, which he’d accepted gratefully as he was always snapping the tips off his.

Later that afternoon, there was a brief knock and Caspian’s smiling face appeared round your door. “You are coming to the birthday banquet tonight, aren’t you, my lady?” You nodded, “I am, Caspian.” “Well… I’ll see you there,” he grinned, and then he was gone.

Smiling, you went back to mentally reviewing the dresses in your wardrobe. Tonight you’d make sure you looked your very best for Caspian.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Meanwhile Caspian walked off down the corridor, deep in thought. He was sure that she’d noticed that he was keeping a physical distance between them the past few days, but it was the only way he could think of to avoid making a complete fool of himself. Again. Like he had the last time. His face burned every time he thought about it. She’d known why he’d rushed off, he was sure of it.

He would have to dance with her tonight. It would look strange if he didn’t, and he felt his stomach tie itself into a knot. How on earth was he going to keep himself under control? He would just have to figure out a way… somehow.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Eventually, after several changes, you’d chosen a deep ruby red velvet dress with a sweetheart neckline, your hair was artfully pinned up and you had added a sparkling necklace and earrings.

The music played, the tables were laden with food and drink and Cornelius was thoroughly enjoying himself as the centre of attention. The courtiers whirled around the room in spirited waltzes and you watched as Caspian danced with girl after girl after girl. Everyone apart from you, in fact. You had a sick sinking feeling in your stomach - it looked like you’d got it all wrong, he obviously didn’t have any feelings for you at all. You blinked fiercely as you felt your eyes fill up. Well, your mother always said pride comes before a fall, and you supposed that you’d been prideful in thinking that he felt something special for you.

Taking a large drink of your wine, you considered leaving the banquet. What use was there in staying? Just to watch Caspian dancing with all the other women, while you - a sorrowful heap of jealousy - sat in the corner by yourself? No, that was not going to be you, you thought.

Standing, you smoothed your dress and started to move out from behind the table, only for Cornelius to lightly grip your wrist. “You’re surely not going already?” he questioned you. You nodded, “Yes, my lord. I.. I have a headache and should retire to my chamber, I think.” He did not let go of you, “Oh, my lady, can’t I persuade you to stay just a little longer? It is my birthday after all!” he smiled mischievously at you. Oh, he had to make you feel guilty, didn’t he? You sighed, “Very well, my lord, just for a very short time though.” He refilled your wine cup, “Have some more wine,” he encouraged you, “I’ve heard it’s very efficacious in treating headaches!”

Laughing, you sat down and took the goblet from him. “Indeed? I confess I haven’t heard that said of wine, my lord.” Nodding vigorously, he replied, “Oh, yes - I am sure I read that recently somewhere - in a medical book or suchlike.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching you, one of the Kingsguard. Before you turned to look fully at him, you saw a look of annoyance flit over Cornelius’ face, before his usual small smile returned.

“May I have the pleasure of the next dance, my lady?” asked the handsome soldier, whose name you didn’t know. You nodded and stood, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor. The orchestra finished playing the previous waltz, and prepared to play the next one.

Caspian’s dark eyes met yours as he straightened up from bowing to his partner. Something flashed in them and you looked away, up at your own partner. Wasn’t he happy to see you dancing with someone? Well, that was a shame, you thought - he can just have a taste of his own medicine! The music began and you and the soldier began to dance, thankfully neither of you treading on each other’s toes. You saw that Caspian was dancing with yet another lady. Hmmm, not so bothered then, you thought somewhat bitterly.

Throughout the dance, however, any time you looked towards Caspian his eyes were on you. Continuing to look away, you’d wait a few moments and look again. Yes - still looking. Now you were confused, if he didn’t care, why was he staring? Maybe it was just a ‘big brother’ kind of thing. The dance came to an end and you and your partner bowed to each other, and as you stood straight again you realised with a start that Caspian was standing slightly to the right of your soldier, gazing at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s heart had jolted in his chest when he saw her take the floor with one of his Kingsguard. Jealousy raged through his veins. She was only supposed to dance with him! He continued staring over at them as the dance progressed, barely looking at his own new partner, and as soon as the dance finished he quickly bowed, mumbled a thank you and hurried over to her and the soldier.

The soldier bowed his head to his King and took himself off at speed. Caspian was still looking at her, and eventually she cleared her throat and said, “Good evening, your Majesty,” bowed her head slightly and also started to leave the dance floor. “No!” he exclaimed, and her eyes met his again, a confused look in them. “I mean… don’t go, I was about to ask you to dance.” She gave him a small smile, “And are you asking me, your Majesty?” Now it was his turn to look confused, “Why, yes… I am,” he replied and extended his hand towards her.

Taking it, she followed him to a more central area of the dance floor and as they reached it he swung around, pulling her close against him and drinking in her scent. He heard her give a small gasp and realised what he’d done - the waltz the orchestra was playing required a side by side promenade at arms’ length for a few steps before traditional waltzing then took over. Hastily, he released her and they performed their promenade steps, before he was able to take her into his arms once more.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he breathed next to her ear, “I was overwhelmed when I saw you arrive.” She laughed, not meeting his eyes, “Really, your Majesty? I didn’t think you were even aware I was here.” “What?” he said, totally confused, “Of course I knew you were here!” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes as they moved around the dance floor. “Well, it’s just that you were so busy with all your dance partners I didn’t think that you were, your Majesty.”

Caspian felt like a thunderbolt had hit him. Of course! What a damn fool he was. He’d been so busy trying to distract himself from mooning over her, that it hadn’t dawned on him what it might look like to her - that he was totally ignoring her. He’d noticed that she’d gone back to calling him ‘your Majesty’. He desperately thought of how he could explain this without giving himself away. “Oh… no, no… I’m, I’m always aware of… of where you are,” he said then winced as he realised how lame that sounded. “I thought I would save the last dance for you,” he added, hoping this would redeem him somewhat.

She finally looked at him, a slightly reproachful look in her eyes but she didn’t speak. “I’m so sorry if it looked like I was ignoring you,” he said in a rush, “I just didn’t want to seem too eager.” She laughed but he could tell there wasn’t a lot of humour in it, “Don’t worry, your Majesty, that definitely wasn’t the impression you gave.”

Caspian was panicking. How could he be so stupid? Now she was upset with him, and he only wanted her more than ever - she looked stunning in her ruby red gown. He held her even closer to him and decided to stop talking, maybe he could just show her how he felt by holding her close. He saw her eyes widen and realised that had been a mistake too. There was no doubt that she’d felt his rampant erection, even through the heavy fabric of her dress.

He made a sudden decision and danced her rapidly across the floor back to the table, hastily sitting down and tugging her into the seat next to him. He pulled his tunic down as far as he could over the bulge in his lap and leant forward slightly, embarrassed and running his hands over his face. “Are you alright, my King?” she questioned him. He looked sidelong at her, “I think you know exactly what’s wrong with me.” Then in an even quieter voice, “The same as in the orchard that time.”

He saw a blush start to rise over her face. So she did remember it.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Oh! you thought, your mind racing back to that encounter in the gathering dusk. You had thought about it frequently over the years with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. You knew you’d been quite forward in your curiosity, and often wondered if Caspian ever thought about it too. And now it seemed that he had. With a frisson of jealousy, you’d also wondered what other sexual experiences he’d had since.

“I… we said we’d never talk about that, Caspian.” While dancing and when he’d pulled you closer to him, you’d felt that hard length of his against your stomach and knew exactly what it meant. But now here he was, bringing up the subject himself.

“We said we’d never speak of it to other people,” he corrected you, gazing into your eyes, “but maybe we need to discuss it further between ourselves. Come, let us leave the banquet for a while so we can speak in private.” He stood up and held out his hand so you also stood, taking it and following him as he led you out of the banqueting hall, aware of the many envious glances from the other women as you left with the King.

They could think what they liked, you thought. They will know you were childhood friends, although you’d made a point of never telling that to any of them. Castle gossip will have ensured that they all knew about it in any case.

Caspian led you upstairs to one of the empty salons and outside onto the large balconied terrace which was attached to it. He knew his castle well, you thought. Due to its position in one of the towers it wasn’t overlooked by any other window or balcony, and the size of the large terrace prevented anyone from seeing anything if they looked up from the grounds.

He came to a halt and turned towards you, his eyes blazing with something - you weren’t sure what - as he looked into yours, “I…I want,” he faltered, “I need…!”

You opened your mouth to ask him what he wanted and needed but before you could speak, he pushed you up against the terrace wall, you felt his mouth on yours and he was kissing you passionately. You realised he was also raising your dress and felt the fabric creep past your knee and then halfway up your leg.

Looking down you saw that Caspian had unlaced his breeches, just as you felt his fingers brush past your undergarments. Because unlike last time, it was he who had hold of his manhood and before you fully realised what he was doing, he’d slid his erection inside you and continued to push until he was fully sheathed. You were gasping and his dark brown eyes looked more like deepest black as he stared into yours, before he lowered his head onto your shoulder, groaning and whispering your name.

“Caspian!” you eventually managed to breathe, “what are you doing?!”

“What you wanted me to do that night in the orchard,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice rough.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian gripped her hips through the dress fabric and began to thrust up into her. She’d wanted him to do this to her those few years ago, right? She’d told him he was a coward because he’d pulled out. So now he was only taking what he could’ve had under the pear trees that evening, wasn’t he?

He heard her voice, through her gasps, “We were children, Caspian, who didn’t know any better. Now we do. What if you get me pregnant?” Caspian stopped thrusting, she needed to hear the truth.

“I don’t care! I’ve wanted you every second of every day since!” his voice broke, “Don’t you realise I’ve always been in love with you?!” He leaned his head back slightly and looked into her eyes, “Tell me you don’t want me to do this and I’ll stop.” She hesitated and he immediately began thrusting again, kissing her and pulling her closer to him. Eventually he felt her fists pummelling his chest, “Caspian! Please! I can’t get pregnant.”

He stopped with a heavy sigh, resting his forehead on hers for a moment before straightening up and pulling out of her. Taking his dick in his hand he turned away from her, frantically rubbing and squeezing his length before finishing quickly, bending over slightly and catching his seed in the palm of his other hand.

Turning back towards her, he found he was looking at empty space. She was gone.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You ran as fast as your fancy dancing shoes would let you to your chamber. Throwing yourself headlong onto your bed and beginning to sob, you wondered how on earth you’d got yourself into this stupid situation. Because you teased him! your brain yelled back at you, it’s all your fault and you know it! Caspian is such a polite, shy, well-behaved boy and look what you made him do!

Eventually your tears stopped flowing and you wearily got up from the bed, struggling a little to unlace your dress at the back but eventually managing it. You’d had to learn how to do that as you didn’t have a lady’s maid, unlike at home. Having washed your face, taken down your hair and changed into your nightdress, you had just lain back down in bed and pulled the quilt over your head when you heard a single knock at your door.

You knew it was Caspian, that one knock had been a special signal between the two of you since you were children. Knowing in your heart that you shouldn’t answer it, you nevertheless got up and opened the door.

It looked as if Caspian had also been crying, his dark eyes were as wide as saucers. “I need to explain.”

You nodded and stood back, allowing him to come into your chamber.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He locked the door behind him, he didn’t want any interruptions during the discussion he was about to have. She’d walked back to her bed and sat on the edge of it, looking down into her lap. He followed her over there, also perching on the bed next to her.

He drew in a deep breath then said in a low voice, “I’m truly sorry for what I did earlier.” He looked down, “You looked so beautiful but you danced with him, you were in his arms and I was so very jealous! I wanted you so much. But what I did was unforgivable.” He heard her exhale then she said, “I have to say, it’s not how I imagined losing my virginity, Caspian.” His head flew up, “But that… we… didn’t that happen when we…?” She shook her head, blushing, “No, not properly. You didn’t get far enough inside that time,” and looked up at him, “but you did this time.”

Now he felt himself blushing. “Oh! I always thought I lost my virginity to you that evening,” he said, “And you? That means you haven’t been with anyone else?” He held his breath and then she shook her head, her eyes downcast again. He felt an immense sense of relief, blowing out a big breath of air. There was a short silence and then he heard, “Caspian?” He looked over at her, “Yes?” “How many women have you been with since then?”

He leapt up off the bed, drawing himself up to his full height, “None!” he shouted, then as he saw her jump, lowered his voice, “I have been with no woman except you.” Suddenly he knelt in front of her, and he met her intent gaze, “I’ve never wanted anyone else apart from you.” He noticed her eyes welling up, and a few tears slid down her cheeks. He reached up and gently wiped them away, “Why are you crying, my darling?” he asked, “Doesn’t that please you?” She managed a feeble smile, “I’m crying because I am pleased to hear that, yes.”

Caspian’s brain hurt a little as he heard this; he wondered if he’d ever understand women. He decided the wisest course of action would be to remain silent and just smiled back at her, nodding as if he fully understood. She sniffled a little and then said more boldly, “Caspian, when you were… you know… earlier, you said you’d always been in love with me.”

His mind rapidly rewound to when he’d been trying to make love to her, had he said that?! He really didn’t recall - his mind had been on other things! - but as it was the truth in any case, he nodded. He took hold of her hand, “Yes, it’s the truth. I’ve loved you since I met you.” “But we were just children.” “It doesn’t matter. You’re my soulmate, I’ve always known that. It was truly awful when I had to flee the castle as I knew I wouldn’t see you - maybe ever again - but I had no choice, and I just had to try and put you out of my mind until Narnia was safe.”

He got up and sat next to her on the bed again. “It was really difficult. Just recently, everything was starting to return to normal and I was about to try and find you, when you arrived here as Cornelius’ assistant. It seemed fated that we should be together. But you kept on saying how I was your dear friend and.. and my heart broke. I was sure that’s all you felt for me - friendship.”

She shook her head, “No, Caspian. I don’t think I realised it until I came to the castle and saw you again, but I think I’ve always loved you too.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s face had the hugest grin on it as you finished speaking. “Really? You love me?” You nodded, “Yes, I do.” Suddenly he was back down on one knee, “Then please - make me the happiest man in Narnia and marry me!” You must have looked like an idiot with your mouth forming a large O, but eventually you managed to say “Yes!” Then he had jumped up, pulling you off the bed and wrapping his arms around you, whirling you round while you squealed and he kissed you.

After the two of you had calmed down somewhat, he left to go back to his own chambers as even although you were now betrothed, it wouldn’t be seemly for him to spend the night with you, even if you just slept in the same bed. He promised that he would have a ring for you by the next day and while you’d assured him there was no rush, he’d insisted that he wanted a betrothal ring on your finger as soon as possible.

You lay awake most of the night, too excited to sleep. It seemed incredible but all of your most precious dreams had come true.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next morning, Cornelius had appeared in front of your desk as usual and throwing aside his usual decorous manner, had hugged you. “I am so pleased to hear your news!” he declared. “I’ve never seen Caspian so happy. He was bouncing around like an over-excited rabbit this morning,” he chuckled, taking your hand and squeezing it while you laughed at his description of Caspian’s reaction. “I know the two of you will be so happy together,” he continued, “Now! We must start planning the wedding!”

When Caspian came to your study later that afternoon, he led you out from behind your desk, went down on one knee and proposed to you once again. This time, he produced a small jewellery box from his tunic pocket and opened it, showing you a ring with a large pear-shaped diamond as the centrepiece. It was beautiful and as Caspian slipped it onto your finger, he whispered, “To always remind you of the pear trees in the orchard,” with a small mischievous grin at you.

“How did you get the ring so quickly?” you asked him, as you were amazed that he’d managed to find such a beautiful, perfect ring in the space of one morning. He’d winked at you, “I have my contacts, that’s all I’m going to say.” You never did find out for sure, but there was one diamond merchant in the town nearest to Cair Paravel who had similar gems and you thought it might be from there.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

One thing you did know for sure, the other ladies of the court’s eyes were out on stalks as they glimpsed your new ring when you joined them for dinner that evening. Every single one of them was praying you were going to tell them to whom you were now betrothed and eventually - when you had still said nothing and dinner was nearly over - one of them could keep quiet no longer.

“My lady… umm, I cannot help but notice your beautiful ring!” You dipped your head, “Why thank you, my lady,” you replied. She smirked at you, “But you are not willing to share the name of your betrothed with us?” You shook your head, a faux-regretful look on your face, “I cannot as yet, my lady. My betrothed has to be the one to announce it,” you went on, with a small shrug. Of course, this just meant that their curiosity ate them up even more.

But Caspian had advised you that he had to firstly tell the Grand Council, then your parents, the courtiers and the people of Narnia in that order - that was the accepted, traditional procedure and that was that. So you had to keep quiet, although in truth you were literally bursting to tell everyone!

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

When the news was finally announced, everyone showered congratulations onto you and Caspian. Although you did get the feeling that the other ladies of the court gave their best wishes through gritted teeth and with fake smiles. You knew that they were secretly devastated as you’d won the prize they had been trying to win, and you felt slightly sorry for them as you knew you’d have felt the same if Caspian had asked one of them to marry him.

In the meantime, Cornelius - much to your surprise - had indeed become almost your sole wedding planner, and very good at it he was too! He’d already arranged just about everything. In fact the only thing you had left to worry about choosing was your dress.

Caspian was getting nervous about the actual ceremony; he was worried he was going to forget his vows when he tried to say them to you. You had just told him, “Make them up! As long as you mean them, it doesn’t matter what you actually say.” He’d laughed, pulling you into his arms and kissing you hungrily, but then the two of you had to spring apart as two female courtiers appeared round the corner without warning. You’d all nodded to each other; they pretended they hadn’t seen you and Caspian kissing, and you two pretended you hadn’t been caught.

Until you were married this was frowned on in public, in what you considered to be one of various out-dated court traditions. You’d be shaking up some things once you were Queen, you smiled to yourself.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian was super-excited on his wedding day. He was nervous, yes - but it was a good nervous. Apart from the fact that in a few moments he’d be joined together for all eternity to the woman of his dreams, tonight, their wedding night, they would finally - finally - be able to make love properly. He couldn’t wait.

Their first two attempts hadn’t exactly been stellar successes - and of course, they shouldn’t even have been trying the first time around! - but he just knew that it would be third time lucky. No guilty childish fumblings, no adult angry/jealous sex… it would be just the two of them, lying in amongst the crisp cotton sheets and deep quilts of their marital bed. No prying eyes, no interruptions, no rush - it would be just heavenly. He already felt a little thrill of arousal.

He heard the musicians begin to play the joyful wedding music and he turned to see his beautiful bride - in a gorgeous white dress and holding a bouquet of delicate white flowers - bathed in sunlight and standing in the entranceway. Would he ever feel as happy as this again, he wondered? He didn’t think he would.

She paused for a few seconds and then began to walk gracefully across the Great Hall towards him. Approaching him, through her veil she met his gaze and gave him a dazzling smile.

His smile in return was even brighter and totally blissful.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@paracosmenthusiast @jessevans

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#king caspian #king caspian x reader #king caspian fan fiction #king caspian fanfic #ben barnes #voyage of the dawn treader

[itsamanyadav]

How to Optimize Windows 10 for Gaming and Performance!!!

Windows 10 is doing exceptionally well in every area. It is magnificent while working on various applications. Windows 10 is also the notch choice of gamers as it allows them to feel the zest of the game completely. The strong OS Windows 10 provides the required configuration and speed to suppose all the popular and heavy games. Here in this article, we will share with you certain ways by which you can optimize your Windows 10 for gaming and higher performance.

Optimize Windows 10 With Gaming Mode

Windows 10 has gone through several updates, and each update brings something new. The latest release of Windows 10 was a gift for gamers as it brought gaming mode optimization. To optimize Windows 10 with gaming mode, follow the below steps:

Initially, after turning your System on, you have to press the Windows key + I

This will redirect you to the Settings panel of your System. There in the search bar type game mode

Out of two options, Click Game Mode settings or Turn on Game Mode; you have to click anyone.

A screen will appear in front of you with the name ‘game mode.’

You have to switch the button of game mode to on from off to optimize it.

And here your PC is ready to function in your gaming mode.

Disable Nagle’s Algorithm to Enhance Gaming

Nagle algorithm might be the friend of your System, but it is an enemy of gaming in PC. While Nagle’s algorithm is enabled in your PC, it is going to temper your gaming speed. So it will be better if you turn off Nagle’s algorithm settings of your PC. to disable it follow the below steps:

Press Windows key + X

Out of all the other options you have to select Windows Power Shell

After that, on the appeared screen you have to Enter ipconfig

Then search for “IPv4 address” to know your PC’s IP address

Once you know your IP address, edit the Windows Registry:

To register first Click Start

Then search by Typing Regedit

Further, Select Registry Editor

Once the registry editor is opened, you have to copy and paste the following path in the address bar:

HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINE\SYSTEM\CurrentControlSet\Services\Tcpip\Parameters\Interfaces

After this step, you will find a list of folders in the left-hand pane. Every folder will have file names mixed up of letters and numbers. You have to match your IP address with t DhcpIPAddress to locate the correct file. After that follow the below steps;

Right-click on the folder

Then Select New > DWORD (32-bit) Value

You have to Name this as TcpAckFrequency

Then click on the OK button.

After that Select New > DWORD (32-bit) Value again

Again Name this one TCPNoDelay.

Double-click on each and set their parameters to 1

Complete these steps and you are done disabling Nagle’s Algorithm.

Make Online Gaming improved With Faster DNS.

Optimizing Windows 10 online gaming with faster DNS will improve your online gaming experience. It avoids network traffic as it contains faster internet. To make your online gaming fun follow the below steps;

Once you have turned your system on, you have to press Windows + I which will redirect you to the Settings page.

On the settings page you have to look for Network and Internet > Change Adapter Settings.

Then Right-click on your wireless network

Further, you have to Select Properties

And then Highlight Internet Protocol Version 4.

Later on, you have to make a note of the two DNS entries

Then replace them with 1.1.1.1 and 1.0.0.1.

After you are done with this press OK and restart your default browser.

After you finish the last step, your online gaming is going to be super fast and fun.

Turn off automatic updates.

As mentioned above, Windows 10 keeps renewing itself with several updates. The updates are to make the functioning of your System better, but it might create a hindrance for your gaming task. To ensure fast gaming, you have to disable automatic updates for better Windows 10 gaming, and to do that follow the given steps:

First of all open Open Settings either from the start button or with the Windows key + I

Then Click Update and Security and select Windows Update

There you have to search for Advanced options and after that click Update Options

You have to disable auto-updates.

Then Enable Show notification as it will hint you about every update your System is going to get

And then you are done improving your gaming quality.

Disable Notifications in Windows 10 to avoid Gaming Hindrance

Many times you have turned on notifications so that you do not miss anything important. But these notifications popping create a hindrance for your gaming.

You have to turn off pop-ups to enjoy better gaming. Follow the below steps to disable notifications in Windows 10:

First of all open settings by searching it on the start button or hitting Windows + I

Then click System and select Focus Assist

Further, you have to Select Alarms Only as it will hide all other notifications except important alarms and reminders.

And you are done disabling notification on your System which will promote faster gaming.

Prevent Steam Auto-Updating Games

People who play games on windows generally install it from steam. many a time its auto-update feature might drink up all your internet and speed resulting in lower gaming. It is better to shut its update feature off and enjoy a high gaming experience:

Initially, you have to launch the Steam client that will boost your gaming.

Then open Steam and look for Settings. There open Downloads

Lastly uncheck Allow downloads during gameplay

Windows 10 Visual Effects Needs to be altered

Graphical User Interfaces (GUI) of your System might be creating a hindrance to your gaming speed by affecting the processing speed.  

Alter the settings of visual effects for better game improvements.

First, you should open Settings with Windows key + I

Then type “performance.”

You should then select Adjust the appearance and performance of Windows.

Then in the settings box, select Adjust for best performance

Click on Apply

Then click the Advanced tab

Make sure that Adjust the best performance of his set to Programs

Then click on Apply again, then OK to confirm

Alter Your Mouse Settings for better Windows 10 Gaming

It might shock you, but a little tweak in your mouse settings can create a huge impact on the overall performance of your System. When it comes to PC gaming tweak your mouse settings to optimize your Windows 10 for gaming in a better way:

Firstly, open Settings

Then click Devices and then open Mouse

Click on view to see the Pointer Options tab

Then clear the Enhance pointer precision checkmark

Then Click Apply

Lastly, click OK to exit—you can also adjust the pointer speed to suit

Power Plan Enhances your gaming experience

Alter your power settings to find out its effect on your PC. You need to follow the following steps to maximize your power plan:

First of all, you should open Settings

Type in ‘power’.

Then click Power & sleep settings and open Additional power settings

Then select the high-performance option

If it is not available, use the Create a power plan to configure a new, custom power plan

This option allows your PC to perform better at the cost of higher energy consumption and temperature levels. For this reason, it is better to have an activated Windows 10 optimization on the desktop rather than laptop PCs.

Install DirectX 12 to Optimize for Gaming

DirectX 12, is the food for faster online gaming. It enhances the support system of gaming that is CPU and GPU.

Follow the below steps To check if you have the latest version of DirectX:

First, you should open Windows PowerShell

Then type dxdiag

After that tap Enter

Soon, you will be able to see the DirectX Diagnostic Tool.

To fix the issue of non installed DirectX follow these steps:

First, you should open Settings with Windows key + I

Then select Update and security

Open Windows Update and there you have to click on Check for updates

Wait for the updates to install

Many gaming settings will be automatically optimized by DirectX12 in Windows 10.

This is all you need to do to optimize faster gaming in your System. If we missed something, let us know in the comment box.

Thanks for reading this

To your Success,

Aman Yadav

#gaming windows tech technology gamingpc optimise

[iwantutobehapppier]

Birthday Boy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Trying to make up for last years birthday celebrations you take Steve on a path down memory lane with some fun peppered in.

Warnings: SMUT. Unprotected Sex, fingering, oral, cock warming, choking, and cursing. 18 an older only, do not read if under the age of 18. This isn’t for everyone, if any of these situations bother you please read no further.

Word Count: 6,623

A/N: This is for Steve’s Birthday! Also to celebrate by participating in @sherrybaby14 Happy Birthday Steve Flash Challenge. Much longer than a drabble but meh. Unedited so I could post it in time. I’ll go back and edit it. Probably, maybe, we’ll see. Enjoy! Reblogs, comments and asks always welcomed!

Steve scratched the back of his head in confusion. Didn’t Sam tell him you would be here waiting for him? Looking around the deserted Avengers Lobby you were nowhere to be seen. It was the day before the 4th of July and most departments within the building had closed early for the day leaving a rather empty lobby this afternoon. A frown fell over his face, maybe Sam got it wrong and you were waiting in the garage?

Just as he start to head for the garage one of the exterior doors busted open to show a bike courier running in with a flushed face. He clearly had been rushing. Steve raised an eyebrow, placing his hands in his slack pockets as the courier stopped in front of him and bent over trying to catch his breath.

“For you Mr. Rogers- uh Captain Rogers,” the courier panted out holding a slim envelope up towards Steve remaining bent over. Steve eyed the envelope questionably before taking it from the young man’s hand.

“Do you need some water kid?” Steve offers watching him stand up straight face still red.

“Oh no, no” The young man barely a teenager by the looks of it waves his hands in front of himself.

“I’ve got too many more deliveries to make.” He took in a deep breath and looked at Steve with a growing admiration. “Can’t believe I get to deliver to you though! The Captain America!” Steve couldn’t help the smile that pulled at one side of his mouth at the courier’s excitement.

“Thank you for getting this to me so promptly kid,” The courier nodded his head vigorously.

“Oh of course! 30 Minutes Delivery isn’t just a company name it’s the motto!” Steve nodded his head seeing the same logo on envelope also on his shirt. “I gotta go! Have a great 4th!” The kid started walking off but came to a stop.

“Oh Geeze!” He turned back around to Steve. “Happy early Birthday Captain!” He waved enthusiastically and then turned to jog back to his bike.

Steve shook his head smirking, the kid reminded him of Peter with his level of zest. Looking back at the envelope he saw it was addressed from you to him. What on earth where you up to he wondered.

Ripping the envelope open glitter exploded out and Steve groaned. He should have known you’d do something like this. He shook his hands looking down to see his button up shirt covered in glitter, the creases of his pants littered here and there and the floor below covered with the craft product as well. He swore he could hear you giggling in his head. You were going to be in trouble for this, he swore it.

Looking in the envelope he saw a card and pulled it out, a simple ‘Happy Birthday’ greeting on the front, he opens it to see your hand writing instructing him to dress casual and meet you at Coney Island Luna Park by 6 for pre-birthday fun. He smiled at all the hearts you drew on the inside of the card and the cheesy way you put both of your initials with a plus sign in the biggest heart you drew.

Steve would be lying if he didn’t say he was relieved it was just an evening at Coney Island. Last year you and Tony had thrown him a huge birthday party he was not comfortable at the entire night until it dwindled down to the core Avenger group. Though tomorrow being his birthday you could always have more up your sleeve. He sighs shaking out his shirts and pants, feeling only slightly guilty at the glittery mess he was leaving on the lobby floor. You couldn’t text him or call him about meeting there no, you and Sam clearly plotted together on this one.

Looking at his watch he shook his head at the slight time crunch you had caused for him. He’d need to get to south Brooklyn from upper Manhattan not to mention he would need to change clothes entirely given the glitter and needing a more casual outfit at your request. Heading back upstairs he smiled wondering if he had enough time to fling some of the glitter left in the envelope on Sam.

-

You pulled your hair behind your ears as the wind picked up behind as you stand in front of the Luna Park entrance. You were sure Steve would like this much better than last year. Still disappointed in yourself for giving into Tony’s idea of throwing Steve a big birthday party.

Really, you knew better after being an Avenger for 4 years and with Steve nearly 2 of them, at this point you should have known it was a bad idea. Sometimes Tony was too damn convincing. When Steve had seen all the people there you could instantly tell he was uncomfortable but he played the part of happy birthday boy well and it broke your heart a little for him to have to fake anything on his birthday. This year you were determined to get it right!

This idea of a Coney Island date before his actual birthday came after he told you about how much he and Bucky would waste money at Coney Island. All the dames Bucky brought and or picked up while there leaving Steve the constant third wheel. Even with being a third wheel Steve never sounded upset about the time spent there. You had so much more planned for him but that was for you to reveal later.

An uncontrollable smile took over your face watching Steve stroll up the side walk in a pulled down cap, jeans and a tight black shirt. You licked your lips eyeing the outline of his chest underneath the shirt, he never knew how to wear a loose fitting shirt, not that you minded. Steve’s arms wrap around you once in his reach and pull you to him tightly, in kind your hand slip around his neck playing with his hair at the nap of his neck.

“Hey doll,” you smile into his chest at the nickname. “Hey birthday boy,” you muffle back into his chest. He kisses your forehead before pulling away to appreciate the light blue sun dress you wore with wedges giving you a few extra inches.

“You enjoy your card?” A sly smile pulls at your lips watching his brow furrow at your antics. “Everything but the glitter.” You giggled exactly how he imagined you would at the site of him covered in glitter.

“Captain America not a fan of a little bit of glitter?” He rolled his eyes at your sweet tone.

“That was more than a little bit of glitter and you know it. You’re going to pay for that.” His tone was gruff and your eye lids dropped half way looking at him.

“You promise?” You lick your lips at the possibilities. He stars down at you but was caught off guard when someone pushes past him, suddenly making him aware of your public location.

“Later,” He winks at your pout.

“Let’s start the Birthday fun!” You took his large hand in yours pulling him towards the entrance of the park. He remains at your side, intertwining his fingers with yours you look up at him continuing to walk.

“I’m not going on the cyclone.” You laughed at the grimace Steve gave. “I can’t believe it’s still here.”

“Are you jealous something almost as old as you still this sturdy?” You faced forward, leading the both of you towards the Coney games, knowing Steve for the most part was not a fan of rides.

“Are you saying I’m not sturdy?” He sounds almost hurt at the insinuation.

“Oh you and I both know you’re a sturdy ride.” You wink at him enjoying the faint blush blooming on his cheeks.

Steve handed you would be the tenth stuffed animal he had won for you. You had warned him to tone down his strength else he’d draw attention to him but he ignored your warning.

“I could never win these back in the day,” he confesses with a small frown as he hands you the giant stuffed bear in-between your already full hands. “I was too weak back then and I always wanted to be the guy with the gal who had all the prizes because her man could win them.”

“Oh Steve,” Your heart ached and warm all at once at his words. “I would love for you to get me all the prizes but I’m running out of room to hold them.”

Steve laughs titling his head back noticing your head almost covered by the prizes. Why did they all have to be giant stuff animals? As the two of you made your way to the next booths where he could win you something you started giving the current prizes to children passing by.

When Steve saw what you were doing he smiled until the corner of his eyes crinkled, overwhelmed at how generous you were being. It was one of his favorite things about you, never took more than you needed and sometimes even less than what you needed. The latter being something he would scold you for from time to time. You look up at him as the little girl you had just given the last prize to excitedly shows off the bear to her parents.

“Oh,” You seem suddenly unsure of your actions. “I’m sorry Steve I know you were winning those for me but it was just so much and I thought kids would probably enjoy–” He pulls you to him and kisses your lips gently, ceasing your rambling.

“It’s perfect,” he spoke pulling his lips from yours staring into your eyes. “Come on doll, I want to win you everything I can so you can give it away.” You sigh in relief following him to the next booth.

“Get me all of them Steve!” You cheered him on.

After winning you several more prizes that seemed to all be some type of stuffed toy you had given them all away except for one. Smiling down at the Captain America plush you couldn’t help but hug the toy to you as the two of you stood in line at a food truck.

“Hm, never thought I’d be jealous of myself,” Steve muttered dipping his head down towards the toy’s head pushed between your breasts. You pull the toy down but Steve caught your arm shaking his head.

“No no, I like it there.” He winked down at you before walking up to the truck window and began ordering for the both of you. Flabbergasted at his comment you stood behind him silently.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you dug into the truck food with vigor sitting on a picnic table across from Steve, smiling whenever your eyes would meet. Steve’s brow furrowed looking around the park noticing all the remaining attractions, a few booths, some machines, and attractions though definitely updated it all had a strange sense of nostalgia. The thoughts of Bucky and times long ago were prevalent, like a shadow around each corner as the sun began to set.

“Hey,” you recognized the bleak look falling over his face. “Come back to me.” You whispered, grasping his hand resting on the table across you. His head jerked to you, eyes clearing and a soft smile played at his lips.

“I’m here,” He smirked at the sauce dripping down your using his other hand he wipes the sauce away with his thumb and without missing a beat you turn to his thumb pulling it into your mouth. Sucking the mess from his thumb his eyes leveled with you, his lips curled up into a predatory smile as you graze your teeth along his retreating thumb.

“Naughty girl,” His voice a bit deeper than normal, with a sly smile you wink at him. “Maybe I didn’t want to waste of the delicious food?” He shifts in his seat and you could just imagine the hardening cock in his jeans. It was definitely time for your next part of the birthday celebration.

Without a further word you took both of your trash to dispose of it then grabbing you plush Captain America and the pulling the real one by the hand on to the next adventure. He called out your name inquiring where you were leading him but you didn’t respond the entire time. You finally stopped in front of an arch way displaying ‘Wonder Wheel’ in large letters with a giant Ferris wheel behind it.

“Another artifact like you,” your words held mirth as you stuck your tongue out the side of your mouth looking up at Steve. His eyes widen starring up at the Ferris wheel he rode growing up in Brooklyn.

“Wow,” He looked down when you pulled him further into the line. “Uh, I don’t know about this doll. It’s so old you know and it goes up real high.”

“I promise it’s just as sturdy as you,” Steve ran his tongue over his bottom teeth leaning back on his feet he looked down at you. “Not to mention who beautiful the night sky is going to be facing the ocean!”

“Doll,” his voice laced with growing anxiety.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve jumped out of planes without a parachute so what danger could there be in a Ferris wheel?”

“I have a shield to help with landing,” He looked less and less happy about the idea as the line shortened.

“You’ve got your shield!” You pulled on the shield sewed to the plush Captain America doll; Steve gave you a small smile and sighed in defeat. Happy at persuading him you lean up on your tip toes and wrap a hand around the back of his neck pulling him down towards you. Pushing your body flush against his you press your lips gently against the skin below his ear causing him to shudder and wrap an arm around your waist.

“I promise I will make it worth your while.” You whisper softly into his ear before nipping at his ear lobe and leaning back on your feet letting go of him. His arm loosens around you at the bite but tightens once more looking down at you in curiosity.

“Next.” You peel yourself from his grip and turn towards the Ferris wheel attendant who called for the two of you. Handing him tickets from your purse you had purchased before Steve had met you at the park.

Steve frowned adjusting his pants to make room for the arousal your behavior had caused. His brows lifted up watching you mutter something he couldn’t hear to the attendant and barely catching the sight of the $100 bill you slip into their hand.

Smiling brightly back at Steve you grip his hand pulling him to the large outer Ferris wheel carriage another attendant was opening for the both of you. Steve helped you into the box and following afterwards.

There were two bench one on each side of the Ferris Wheel, you sat on the one facing outward and patting for Steve to join you. He did but not without cringing the teetering of the box at weight change.

“What was that about back there?” He inquires pulling you to his side an arm draped over your shoulder. Shrug at him and let out a small ‘meep’ when the Ferris wheel started to move slowly. In reaction Steve pulls you closer to him your hand rested on his lap instead of being squeezed between the two of you.

Once you felt the two of you were at least half way up your hand began to wander towards his inner thigh, gently kneading him there, his eyes cut down to you but you smile at him innocently. He wasn’t fooled though. You began to lazily trail your hand up and down his thigh, purposely letting the tips of your fingers barely touch his growing erection.

“Doll,” his tone full of warning but you ignore him. Instead you pull your legs under you sitting on them the movement swaying the booth a little. You kiss him softy at first, trailing your hand up and down his thigh again.

Steve didn’t take kindly to you ignoring him; he threading his fingers in your hair and pulls your head back gently. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking care of my birthday man?” You bite your bottom lip and Steve’s eyes narrow on your lips.

“No one can see, unless you want them to.” A deep red blush covers his cheeks as he mutters a “No.”

You curled your fingers around his clothed hard cock, he curses under his breath looking down at your hand then back at your face. He pushes your lips back to his he was rough though, nipping at your lower lip you gasp and his tongue invades your mouth. In response you unbutton and unzip his pants your hand slipping into the slit of his boxer briefs. He groaned against your mouth as you wrap your fingers around his warm cock tugging at it gently through the slit exposing him to the air.

You looked down at his cock and whimpered, it was so flushed and throbbing in your hand. You tighten your grip and Steve jerked your hair making you look at him.

“Taste it,” he encourages you, pushing your head down. You oblige leaning down your ass lifting in the air as you held his thigh with one hand, the other resting against his hard chest. You gently lick the tip and smile when his cock jerks at the touch.

Unable to resist any longer you wrap your lips around the head and began to swirl your tongue along the head. Steve threw his head back, a faint thud against the window, he lets out a groan.

“Just like that,” he mutters under his breath as you took him deeper.

His hand trails from your hair down your back and pulls your dress up revealing your lace underwear. Oh he was definitely going to rip those off later. He grips one of your exposed ass cheeks then gives it a heavy slap. The force of his slap causes you to take his cock further down your throat with a moan. Wiggling your butt he smirks at the show slapping the opposite cheek, in return you took the rest of him down your throat, feeling his soft blonde pubes.

“Shit,” he gasps out unable to stop the way his hips jerk up when you pull up stopping half way to go back down. Purposely swallowing around him, your tongue rolling around any part of him you could touch. Trailing your free hand up his thigh you cupped his balls still within his boxer briefs.

His breath falters. “Doll,” he whimpers when you pull your head up and went right back down in quick sessions. “Please,” he jerks his hips up shoving himself into your receding mouth. With his other hand he grips your head and holds you down. You moan around his cock, feeling liquid pool between your legs.

You loved it when he used your mouth, hell when he just used you.

He pulls you completely off his cock, pulling your head back to bend your back at an almost painful angle. His eyes were nearly all black when he pressed his mouth to yours, spittle glistening on your lips. His tongue trailed along your tongue groaning into you at the taste of himself. With his grip still in your hair he pulls your head back looking you in the eyes.

“Who’s mouth is this?” His voice gravel from his arousal. You whimper at his words shifting your hips together. He smacks your ass harder than before and you swore the sound echoes outside the Ferris wheel booth.

“Who’s” he pulls your head down, your mouth barely touching the bright red pulsing head of his cock, “is it?”

“Yours Captain,” he groans and shoving his cock all the way down your throat, gasping as you gagged on him at the sudden intrusion. He pulls your head up quickly and pushes back down just as quick.

“Yeah it’s mine” he mutters moving your head up and down on him gripping your ass with his other hand.

“It’s mine to use and abuse.” He grunted when your throat constricts around him causing him to hold you down at his base.

“You deserve to be used too,” He pulled you up just enough so you could catch your breath only to push you back down. “Getting me on this old Ferris wheel with such ill intent.”

Pulling your head back one more time he admired the drool trailing own your swollen lips, a groan pulled from his mouth when you licked your lips clean.

“Such a filthy thing,” He kissed you roughly before shoving you back down on his cock barely giving you a chance to breath as he started pushing himself up into your mouth. Tears started to pool at the corner of your eyes in response to the random gagging, but you wouldn’t let him stop, even if he could at this point.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groans out, his hips stilled as he started to move your head again on his cock. It was only a few moments later he held your mouth at his base; hips jerking you felt warm shots roll down your throat. Swallowing everything he had you slowly pull your head up when his grip releases.

He was still panting, coming down from the feelings you sent through his body. Smiling at him you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Reaching behind you pulled a handkerchief out of your purse; one he had given you so very 1930’s of him.

His whole body jerked when you began clean up his lap the sensation being too much, his eyes widen at your actions.

“Doll you shouldn’t be doing that–” He protests and went to still your arm but you swatted him away his post-orgasm euphoria letting him be bested.

“It’s your birthday,” You countered continuing with your task.

“Yeah but…” his voice trailed off as you finish and put the handkerchief in your purse and slip his softening cock back into his boxer briefs. Steve swatted your hands away to button and zip his pants up. You went to retort about you taking care of him but he stopped you before you could start.

“Hush we’re almost on the beach side,” At his words you turned around seeing the bright stars above the ocean. The city was way to light polluted to be able to see any stars but facing out towards the ocean you could actually see some.

Steve pulled you into his lap both of you staring at the night sky as the booth descended.

-

“Where are you taking me now?” Steve grumbles beside you, he was getting tired of walking around with so many people around and it was getting late. You pat his arm wrapped around you as you pull your cellphone out smiling brightly at the text you got.

“Who is that?” Steve felt a surge of envy of your attention being diverted from him.

“Remember me saying my friend that’s got a place in Brooklyn near where your mom’s was… Well she tends to be out of town around this time of year.”

“Yeah,” Steve trailed not sure he understood what this had to do with anything.

“Well she said we could crash at her place for the holiday weekend.” You smiled up at him.

“This way it can just be us, she’s got a nice 3 story walk-up across from Prospect Park.” Steve whistled at the location.

“Those aren’t cheap places doll,” You nudged him with your shoulder as he led the two of you out of the park. “Oh hush, it doesn’t matter. It’s ours for the night or weekend if we want!”

Steve nodded his head, staying in Brooklyn with his girl for his birthday sounded fantastic. No giant parties, no one knocking on their door interrupting their solitude. Just the two of them.

“She said the fridge has minimal essentials so if we want more food for the weekend we’ll need to get it.” Steve shrugged at your comment though slightly elated at the idea of doing something as domestic as grocery shopping with you.

“Well let’s head there. Figure we’d take my bike?” Steve question rhetorical, he knew you never drove. “Yeah just don’t go too fast.” Steve chuckled at your concern.

“I’d never let anything happen to you doll,” he kissed you before leading you to his bike.

The place wasn’t too far but far enough that Steve was able to admire sights of the Brooklyn he once knew merging with the 21st century. He pulled up to the walk-up and realized he could remember when they built these houses; he was barely 10 when they were finished. Shaking his head he trailed behind you as you entered a code into the deadlock keypad to the house.

Once the two of you shuffled inside he could make out familiar duffel bags on the couch in the living room. The both of you pulling your shoes off and setting them on a shoe rack next to the front door.

“Doll,” he dragged the l’s out inspecting the duffel bags closer.

You suddenly felt guilty for some reason, as if you had tricked him. “Yes Steve?” You tried to sound sweet as possible.

“What are our bags doing here?” You toed your foot into the hardwood floor pulling your arms behind your back.

“Tony may have helped a little in getting bags I had packed here so we could stay for however long we wanted.” Steve smiled at you pulling you into his embrace.

“And here I thought I’d just get to see you naked the whole time.” You pulled his ball cap off and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“I mean I could,” you gave him a licentious smile. He groans as if imagining you naked already.

“Yeah you should,” he leans down to kiss you but you slip out of his hands. His brow furrowed in confusion. You pointed to the bags which he quickly picked up and then crooked your finger at him. He followed you without a word as you made your way to the guest room.

Once he was in the room he sat the bags down and threw you on the bed only to pull his pants off before he pounced on you as you bounced on the mattress giggling.

“About that naked thing,” He wiggled his eye brows at you causing the giggles to continue. He silenced you gently kissing your lips then the corners of your mouth, trailing down your chin to your neck where he began to nibble on the skin.

You cooed, your hands wrapping around his waist pulling his shirt up so you could grip his muscular back. He grinned against your neck and sat up, wedging his hips between your spread legs. He quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head followed by your dress. He let out a pleased groan, his hands starting at your waist trailing up your stomach kneading your skin as he reached below your bra.

One hand slips underneath you unhooking the bra with finesse that took years to obtain, the other hand tossing the bra somewhere in the room.  You grip at the waist band of his underwear whimpering when you push your hips up against his hard cock, the friction setting your skin on fire. Steve groaned, his hands falling on the bed at your sides holding himself up as he bears down on you.  

You lean up nipping at his ear lobe and kissing your way up his chin to his lips. Gently pressing against him and you were met with his never ending intensity. Tongues fighting for dominance as his hands take yours from his waist and hold them at your side pushing you back down into the mattress with one hand.

Pulling your hands above your head he holds them with one hand bruising strength and began to rub his cloth covered cock against your slick pussy. The juices soaking into his boxer briefs, he groans putting his chin to his chest looking down at your soaked panties. He licks his lips looking back at your face; a soft whimper passes your lips at that predatory look.

“You gonna let me fill you huh?” You felt your lower abdomen quiver at his words thick with his Brooklyn accent when he lost himself in his lust.

“Yeah you want it,” he muttered letting go of your waist slipping into your underwear to rub your clit with his thumb. You arched your back up crying out hands jerking against his hold but when he applied pressure you stilled.

“Please,” You half gasped out at his attention, his pressure light and slow almost torturous.

“Please what?” He smirked down at you.

“I want to cum, please.”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that.” He began to increase the pressure of his thumb

“Please Captain make me cum,” you began to rotate your hips. “I want to cum, I want your cum.” Steve groaned and increased his pressure on your clit, letting go of your wrists to rip your underwear off with minimal effort and shoves two fingers into your slick heat pressing his palm against your clit.

You nearly screamed out, the sensation too much as he began a brutal pace. Your head began to toss back and forth on the bed his attentions sending rippling pleasure up and down your body.

“You want to cum?” He taunted, leaning over you. You nodded your head not able to say yes as you moaned louder, a tightening feeling spreading in your lower abdomen.

“Not yet,” he pulls his hands away from you and you sob out loud, your legs flailing in anger at his denial. Without another word he grips your throat and you still, your legs resting over his thighs.

“Such a good little slut,” he praised and you couldn’t help the feeling of pride that washed over you at his words.

“You’re gonna be good for me right?” You muttered a yes.

“Gonna take my cock, gonna let me fill you up? Be such a good doll for me right?” You felt your head fog with lust at his words.

“Yes Captain,” You whimper out pushing your pelvis down on his.

“I love it when you call me that.” He growled out.

Steve spurred into action; pulling down his boxer briefs until completely off. Pushing your thighs wide apart he gripped the base of his cock, trailing the head up and down your slit enjoying the way his precum and your juices made the head glisten. He shifted up to standing on his knees pulling your waist with him your lower half up in the air. The height different bending you at the neck.

“Tell me if it’s too much okay?” You nodded meekly as you whimper feeling the head of his cock press into you.

When he thrusts himself into you regardless of your arousal and preparation there was that delicious burn of stretching. You both cry out, your hands gripping at the air as he holds your hips still with both hands. “What’s wrong baby girl?” he taunted.

“So full,” you gasped out, trying to rotate your hips but his grip was too firm. He tutted your attempts as he slowly pulled himself out then slammed back in causing you to cry out again as your body went limp with pleasure. He chuckled at your cries and set a punishing pace.

“Who do you belong to?” He grunts out between closed teeth, his brow furrow.

“You,” Voice hoarse from the over use and bent neck.

“Who?” A hand lets go of your waist and two fingers begin to run circles around and gently pinch your clit. You feel the deliria of pleasure start to settle in, almost missing his question.

“I belong to you Steve,” he stilled “Captain” You all but gasp out, he leans over your prone body peppering kisses on any skin he can reach, continuing his assault on your over worked slick pussy.

He groans pulling you from him only to flip you onto your stomach as if you were light as air. He sat back on his heels pulling your waist over his lap. Your legs wrapped behind him on reflex, hands stretched out on the bed in front of you, his cock slowly pushing back into you.

“You drive me crazy,” he mutters out, a hand on your lower back guiding your ass back and forth on him. You faintly hear him growling his eyes entranced at the sight of his cock slipping in and out of your sopping wet pussy.

Your eyes shut tightly the sensation of his slow intrusion sending shocks up and down your body settling into the tightening of your lower abdomen. Steve hand snakes down below you, rubbing your clit quickly to offset his leisure pace. You arch your back down with a sob, the sensation too much you shutter around him losing yourself to the release of pleasure.

He grunts feeling you spasm around him setting his pace back up in tempo, pounding into you with strength that would certainly leave bruises. “Cum in me,” You coo, your body jerking against the bed at his thrusting. He nearly howls at the words his body seizing up, his pelvis flush to your ass cheeks filling you at your request.

It took a while before either of you caught your breaths enough to move. He pulls his semi hard cock out of you. You couldn’t control the way your hips push back, primal need to always feel him. He would have normally chuckled at your actions but he’s mesmerized by his cum leaking out of your bright red pussy.

“Oh no no,” his finger push the dripping cum back in, you releasing soft whimper from your lips at the feel of his fingers pushing on the overworked flesh.

He twisted his hand pushing his palm against your clit, his fingers still inside of you keeping his cum inside as he began to rub his palm against your clit causing your back to arch back down again a deep moan pulling from your lips. He placed his other hand on the back of your neck sending you down the path to orgasmic bliss once again.

-

Steve felt consciousness slowly start to filter in as the morning sun began to shine in the room; he reached over for you but frowned when he found nothing but crumpled sheets. Opening his eyes he slowly sat up, his senses returning after a late night of his favorite activity. Smelling bacon he licked his lips standing up with a stretch.

He spotted across the room that you had set out his favorite sweat pants on a reading chair. Deciding it was time to find you he worked towards getting pants on so he could hunt you and the bacon down.

You danced naked underneath the apron to a song stuck in your head. Your hair up in a messy bun as it was unsalvageable to be down anymore after last night. You felt your thighs clench at the thought of everything the two of you did. Returning you focus to cooking you flipped over the bacon wondering when the birthday boy would wake up.

Strong muscular arms looped around the front of your waist, the other cupped a breast gently pulling you back into warm uncovered chest.

“What are you wearing or rather aren’t wearing,” he rough scratch in his voice made you push your thighs together once more.

“You asked for naked the whole time.” You remind him, pushing the bacon with your spatula. He hummed in appreciation, rutting his morning erection against your back side.

“So I did,”The hand on you breast snaking in the valley between your breast to gently wrap around your throat pulling you head to the side he began to kiss along your  neck.

He pulls his sweat pants down enough to pull his cock out. He dips his hips low to be able to rub his cock between your ass cheeks chuckling as you wiggle against him.

“Steve…” A soft gasp escapes your lips while you throw a hand behind you reaching up to grip the nape of his neck. “The bacon.”

“You can still finish the bacon don’t worry.” His hands wrap around your waist lifting you up just enough to nudge the head of his cock between your wet lips. When your body betrayed you jerking at the slight pain on over used flesh, he pulls away but your feet hook around his calf anchoring yourself.

“No I want it,”

“Doll” His voice full of concern.

“I like it when it hurts,” Your confession earning a groan from Steve against the back of your neck, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” Sliding you down until you were at the root he gently bit your neck moving one arm to warp around your lower abdomen keeping you tight against him.

You are panting head thrown back as you try to focus on anything but the searing feeling of him so deeply inside you once again.

“Don’t forget about the bacon.” Steve murmurs against your neck before he starts to draw patterns on your skin with his tongue, you shake your head looking down at the close to burning bacon.

Quickly you take it out of the pan, leaning just slightly over to pull new bacon into the pan, a whimper pushing past your lips at the shift of him inside you at the movement. Steve flexes his hips panting against your neck. Your head feels fuzzy trying to focus almost impossible with him sitting so deep in you. The telling tightening and need for release growing with each second he stayed within you.

“Finish our breakfast doll,” His voice barely above a whisper giving away that this was driving him just as crazy.

Once the bacon was finished you turn the burner off and barely have a chance to put the last of the bacon on the plate before Steve turns the both you around pushing your chest down on the marble kitchen island. He swirls his pelvis groaning out between ragged breaths.

“It’s almost unbearable to be surrounded by your tight pussy and not do anything,” He smacks your ass causing you to clench around him with a soft cry. That is what sets him off. He rears his hips back nearly completely out of you and slams right back into you with so much force you’d certainly have a bruise later along your thighs from the island marble.

He began pounding away into you with abandon, groaning out your name intermittently like a mantra. The sensations were too much for your overworked body, crying out his name you spasm around him. Steve’s steady pace became jerky his fingers pressing tightly into your flesh as he filled you once more, his forehead dropping  to  your shoulder gently biting at your sweaty flesh riding out his orgasm.

Laying the side of your face on the cool marble you try to cool yourself down as hot puffs of air escaping your lips with Steve panting into your skin.

“Happy Birthday Steve.” You can feel his lips upturn against you neck. “Best one yet and the days not even over.” Barely a mumble against your skin.  

#steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #captain america smut #avengers #marvel #steve rogers x female #avengers smut #fanfic #marvel universe #marvel smut #smut #steve rogers x female reader #happy birthday Steve Rogers

[savvyblunders]

Personal Post: Imposter Syndrome, Reading Traditional Books, and thoughts about my own writing

{Just rambles regarding books, fanfiction and some of my thoughts therein.}

It’s been a terribly long time since I read any published books--aside from those written by fellow fanfiction authors. It has reached the point that I find them entirely too cringey. The plots are tame, the characters stiff, the language rote. I especially have a hard time caring if there is a supposed ‘romance’ involved. Forget about het romances, they’re so formulaic that they leave me cold. It isn’t that I have no interest in the portrayal of a relationship between a woman and man, it’s that by and large they might as well have been churned off of a factory production line. 

Part of my objection is to the tired old tropes and gender roles which authors (and readers) don’t seem to realize they’re not only falling prey to, but encouraging with their work. The world doesn’t have to be turned on its head to be interesting, but you shouldn’t know from the first few scenes between characters how it will play out--and further more, not care.

I did read a rather good psychological mystery a few days ago, however. I think perhaps it was successful in part because it was so different from the usual run of stories that people publish, but also because there wasn’t a romance shoe-horned into the storyline. The narrator wasn’t particularly sympathetic, but nor were they entirely unredeemed. I don’t want to give too much away, but it explored the themes of bullying, memory, redemption and revenge, with an enjoyable twist that I didn’t see coming--I was successfully led astray by red herrings, which isn’t always the case when I’m reading mysteries. The book, should anyone be interested, was Girl Gone Mad by Avery Bishop.

{I keep on rambling after the break ;)}

I also read another which was such a stinker I deleted it from my Kindle history and couldn’t tell you the title or author. This beauty had a somewhat interesting premise of a woman who wakes from a six month coma with full amnesia and throughout the book has to struggle with not remembering anything and depending on her husband, children and neighbors for the details of her life. Frustratingly, she finds parts of her personality and tastes have changed--at least as far as they all tell her. She begins to doubt that she is who they say--an issue further compounded when certain facets of her life pre-coma are revealed. Then when the ending arrives, there is a twist and a reveal which could have been pretty neat, only it arrived at the end of such a rote story, with such clunky storytelling and unimaginative language that I kind of didn’t care. It was clear, I might add, that the female protagonist was written by a man. Although blessedly he didn’t go into raptures over her perky breasts, long hair, or other physical attributes [insert vomiting]

My reading resulted in a two-fold feeling. One, traditionally published books are by and large crap. A few months ago I tried reading a book from a famous author whom I used to be quite a fan of. It was part of a series with which I used to be enamored. I settled in, expecting a very enjoyable read. After slogging through three chapters I gave it up. The writing was generic, the characters shallow and the ‘bad guy’ was so sketchily written as to be bewildering, not mysterious. 

That book left me frustrated and annoyed. But it also revealed something to me which I had somewhat accepted and understood prior to that, but not entirely absorbed. Just because a book is traditionally published doesn’t mean it’s any good. Just because an author is well known--or even on the best seller list--doesn’t mean they can write. There are more places to find interesting, funny, heartbreaking, sexy, fun, amazingly written, daring and wonderful stories than at a bookstore or through Kindle. 

The second part of my two-fold feeling was that while, as a writer, I may have much room to grow, I still have valuable skills to offer. My four years of writing fanfiction have honed my talent, refined my style, and influenced my voice, perspective and ability. A good beta, or editor, is invaluable. While I used to write solo and not show it to anyone, simply edit and post, I’ve come to understand the inherent value of feedback. It can be a tricky road, as you might find yourself influenced too much by a reader into trying to suit their tastes rather than your own, but a good beta (eternal thanks to @paialovespie & @hoomhum)--that is to say, a great beta, will not only see the nuts and bolts which might need tightening, but will offer insights which blow your story from ordinary to inspired. The same goes for a ‘personal cheerleader’ (the highest of praise to @mottlemoth) or someone who reminds you at your dark times that you are capable of far more than you can conceive of in that moment. Forget nasty comments online, most of us are our own worst enemies--after all, we know our weakest spots and can zero in on them mercilessly.

Even without a beta, I believe in myself as a writer enough these days (most days) to hope that one day, with hard work, skill, great editing, and some luck, I too could be published. Not a NYT best seller, perhaps, but then, I’m not entirely certain I’d like that. I don’t say this out of any sort of pretentiousness, but because, in essence, these days, I want to write the kind of things that appeal to a more niche audience. I’d like to point with pride at my small book, nestled there on a bookshelf, or available with one click of a button, as something that helps give a voice to a community which has, and still continues to be, marginalized, ignored, fetishized and pandered to, in equal measure. Perhaps it would be for the best if what I wrote wasn’t palatable to the greater reading public.

Of course, those days when I’m full of zest and confidence don’t always last. Like any creator, I fall prey to Imposter Syndrome. Lord, I can’t believe that a time used to exist when I didn’t know what that was! I knew the feeling (oh, how I did), but had no clue that a term existed to encapsulate it. The concept that I wasn’t alone in having days (weeks, months, years) of being cast into doubt that I had anything worth saying--a voice worth listening to--isn’t a new one, but to find out that I’m not alone was unutterably comforting. 

Since, like so many people, I’ve been suffering from a lack of ambition and ability to focus during this global pandemic, I haven’t written much at all, that inner voice rang loud and clear. I’m a fraud, a fake. Any ability I had was used up, clearly as shallow as a mud puddle if a little adversity was enough to dry it out. The struggle to get myself past that was, and is, one that swings from good to bad almost day by day. I had to finally give myself permission to be sad, scared, worried, tired, uninspired. Eventually I decided it was enough that I could find comfort and solace in other’s writing. And oh, how I have! Even though days and days would pass when I couldn’t even muster the interest to read, other times I would consume fanfiction fervently, feverishly. 

And there was so much out there! Adventure, sex, romance, comedy, crack, fluff, hurt/comfort. It seems funny that I can rail against the ‘formulaic’ writing of published books and then turn to ‘tags’ and ‘tropes’ for comfort. But I think the difference lies in the heart that is written into those fanfiction stories. Most of us, while being somewhat influenced by friends, mutuals and fans into writing for a hungry public, are, by and large, writing for ourselves. The old tried and true ‘write what you know’ advice seemed empty and meaningless to me for years. If we only ever write what we know, then how do sci-fi, fantasy, adventure, etc., get written? My brain went to the obvious and ignored the heart of the matter--it isn’t so much what you ‘know’ as writing what you need. What makes you passionate. Even if you’ve never been on a space ship, or been part of a polyamorous, platonic communal family group, if you write it with that yearning and spirit in your heart, it will reach out to someone else.

Fanfiction, at it’s core, is self-comfort.

In my estimation, looking at traditionally published books, it seems that what most of them lack is that heart. The writers aren’t writing because they need the story, or because they are compelled to tell it. It isn’t that they had a hell of a good time writing it, or that they made themselves laugh while doing so. They had a publishing deal to fulfil, a publisher to make happy, a reading public who had certain expectations. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, but if it’s your only motivation...then the writing suffers the neglect and a percerptive reader will note the difference. 

By and large, the fandom, the ship, even the trope, aren’t what captivates me most. I’m a pretty eclectic reader. I enjoy a good story more than I do the fact that it is a particular pairing. The draw is how well it is written, any chances the author took, the indulgence into style, formatting, etc. that they allowed themselves. So why should published books be any different? I’ve heard (non-fandom) people dismiss fanfiction as niche. Perhaps it is. But it is also broad, vast, uncharted territory where we’re all having a lot of fun and enjoying the hell out of ourselves.

Maybe those published authors need to spend a little time with us. 

#personal stuff #savvy ponders #writing #traditional publishing #fanfiction #pandemic #depression #anxiety #self comfort #introspection