#i am going to eat him. my rage cannot be contained

[thevirgodoll]

fortunately for everyone, i am now in my female villain era where i devour a very specific man of my choice

#mood changed overnight i am not desiring anything anymore #this is actually an episode so i’m not joking #i am going to eat him. my rage cannot be contained #very specific = my ex #uhh happy october:) #actually bipolar #female rage

[princessbellecerise]

Worth The Wait

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | Jace spends your entire courtship denying you the pleasures of what you really want. Now that it’s the night of your wedding, he has every intention of making it worth the wait

warnings | husband!jace, first time wedding smut, creampie

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys never let himself have his way with you until your wedding night.

Before that, he’d always cut you off, not letting anything get too far because of his honor. He was so righteous that it nearly made you blind with rage every time he stopped you when you were right there, so close to having him inside of you but stopped every time by his last minute morals.

Jacaerys was a good man and you suffered for it; always being left aching and denied what you truly wanted. But of course, as heir, he knew he couldn’t touch you until your wedding night. The gods, his mother and his reputation frowned upon it. Jacaerys would do not such thing as dishonor you, so he waited.

And waited.

And suddenly, it was the night of your wedding feast and Jacaerys could not bring himself to think of anything expect for you. How good you looked in your gown, the lights seemingly adorning your face.

Marriage looked so good on you that he can hardly contain himself. He grows desperate with each passing minute, strained smiles and polite yet brief words being exchanged with everyone that approaches to congratulate him. A few people even make him laugh and like the future king he is, Jace does not show his true emotions.

He does not show how desperately he wants you, his wife whom he’s denied pleasure so much. He keeps his composure but Jacaerys is suffering, agonizingly and and eagerly awaiting for the sun to go down.

Of course, you take note of his angst and worry that something is wrong with your husband. Or worse—that he’s unhappy to the point where he doesn’t even want to eat.

He hasn’t touched his food since it was brought out and worriedly, you lean over to ask him about his lack of appetite.

You have to admit; you weren’t expecting the response that you got. Words from his mouth that send pure heat through your body and made you feel hot from your heels to your head.

“I am fine, my princess. I am simply not hungry because it is not roast I wish to feast upon right now,” He tells you, and suddenly everything makes since.

Why he’s so tense. Why Jacaerys looks like he cannot wait to leave this damn dinner. And suddenly, your mouth drops into an ‘o’ shape. A smirk slowly adorning your lips because now Jacaerys knows what it feels like. He knows what it’s like to be left waiting, wondering and lusting for the opportunity.

In a way, it sort of makes you satisfied that he has to wait.

Only when the sun goes down is it proper for him to finally announce your fair wells, grabbing your hand and all but dragging you towards your now shared chambers.

Everyone is looking at the two of you, cheering and congratulating you both as you walk though the congregational of people. Friends and allies alike clap Jace on the back and wink at you as your grip on his hand tightens.

With a strained smile, Jace politely nods back but does not entertain their jesting. You’re grateful, because even though what you’re about to do is an open secret, it’s still embarrassing.

Thankfully, there would be no bedding ceremony, Jacaerys way too much of a gentleman to let that happen to you. Instead, it’s only you and him and the flames of desire that grow between the two of you as you walk through the halls.

It burns—it really does. The heat and the longing between you two is almost unbearable as you finally make it behind closed doors, barely locking it before Jacaerys grabs you and jumps you.

You’re surprised, yelping when your husband scoops you into his arms and kisses you without so much as a word.

His hot mouth covers your groans and while it is unexpected, you welcome it.

His kiss is fierce, so passionate that it nearly knocks you to your knees. Jacaerys has clearly grown desperate during the hours of waiting, the future king nearly rabid as he pokes and prods at your clothing.

Never have you seen him in such a way, so ungentleman-like as he drags you to the floor. You don’t even make it to the bed because Jacaerys is so needy, getting you naked in no time while also landing sloppy kisses on your neck.

It ignites an unimaginable fire in your belly to see him so frantic for you. To see him finally give in and want to fuck you like you’ve previously begged for.

Now that his honor isn’t at stake, Jacaerys is not holding back. He’s adamant about what he wants and he wants you; all of you.

You two lay bare before one another and then it’s time; Jace settling himself at your hole and running his cock head against your slick folds.

He’s done this many times before. You’ve been here before, and every time this was the moment that Jace pulled back. Just when he was about to push into you, his sense would smack him in the face and off of you he went.

This was always the stage of stopping but this time there was no return. You found yourself almost opening your mouth, so used to having to beg him for friction.

“Just the tip, at least the tip. Please Jace.” Is what you used to beg for.

Now, it shocks you when he says nothing. Does nothing to pull away, only kisses you so hard it makes your head spin and your lips throb from where he cut it earlier.

He’s so feverish that it hurts, hurts so good to know he finally desires you. To know that this will be the time he doesn’t stop, the time you don’t beg.

Now, it is him that is at his wits ends as he lays his forehead against yours. When it’s time to push himself in, Jacaerys finally speaks. Brown eyes blown from desire, the future king is barely able to hold himself back, but he does.

“Do you wish for me to warm you first, sweetling?” He asks, and it’s not so much as an offer as it is his morals shining through. Jace wants absolutely nothing except to fuck you into oblivion, but he’s kind.

He asks before taking your maidenhood even though he’s shaking at your entrance, will power faltering the longer you contemplate your answer.

He almost cries when he sees you shake your head, breathing a sigh of relief and pursing his pink lips together while nodding. He understands.

“They’ll be time for that later,” You tell him and he’s relived. Back to the mission of penetrating you before you suddenly get an idea, finding yourself stopping him one last time just to be cruel.

“Wait!” You take the role of Jacaerys, and he you as he stares at you with wide eyes. Hungry eyes that are confused and frustrated as you look at him.

“What is it, my love?” He asks slowly.

A crude smirk falls upon your lips. “Maybe we should wait,” You tell him bashfully, loving the way he reels back. The bewilderment in his expression is finally enough to satisfy your revenge for a lifetime, and you want to laugh when he finally feels what you feel. “Maybe we shouldn’t…dishonor ourselves this way. We should wait for marriage, you know? That way—”

You gasp to the high heavens as your cruel joke is suddenly cut off by Jacaerys pushing himself inside of you. In no mood to jest, he takes what he wants and finally sheaths himself in your core.

You were being cruel to him, he justifies. Jacaerys is a kind man that does not take lightly to cruelty.

You moan out as pain briefly graces your lower regions and stare at your husband in shock as his face shows all seriousness. Out of all things, you weren’t expecting for him to do that. To take control in way he’d never shown before.

“Do not jest with me, wife. Not tonight of all nights. Do not deny your husband such pleasure,” He growls in your ear as he finally stills.

Still stunned, you simply lay there and relish in the feeling of him on top of you. Seven hells, you have half a mind to cry with relief but you don’t want him to mistake yours tears for pain. It hurts, yes, but not in a way that makes you want him to stop.

In fact, it’s quite the opposite and though you told yourself no more begging, you find that you do it anyways as you wrap your legs around him. Pulling him close so that Jacaerys is really and truly inside of you, just as your husband should be.

“I’m sorry, my love. Please forgive me—I won’t do it again,” You whisper desperately, desire clawing at your every atom. You need him to move, you need him to finish what he started; to complete what you’ve craved for what seems like forever now.

It would only be fair after denying you that pleasure for half a year.

“Good.”

Jacaerys growls this and that is when you feel him start to move, his hips snapping into yours as his lips find your own. You moan as his cock thrusts his way through your unexplored folds, reaching depths and pleasures you never thought possible.

You clench around him and move your lips, loving the way he groans and pants into your mouth. Your legs still find themselves wrapped around his waist, enticing your love to go deeper, faster, harder.

You need him and he needs you.

His strokes are those of desperation, chasing every feeling he had ran away from you. Chasing those previous nights where he had denied you his cock, denied himself of the pelasure that he was feeling right now.

The feeling of you wrapped around his cock was one that was indescribable. If anyone ever asked, which he doubted they would (expect for Luke, maybe) then Jacaerys would simply have to stare at them, mouth open like it was now.

For what could he say, other than his beloved was inciting things from his body that he had never felt before? Providing him with pleasure and ecstasy that took his breath away more than his first dragon ride.

These feelings lifted him higher than that, higher than Vermax souring through the clouds and he screwed his eyes shut as he saviored the flavors of your cunt.

Soft and wet and warm and his prison that he’d gladly rot away in. If Jacaerys could spend the rest of his days inside of you he’d be a happy man. He’d give up the iron throne, burn the skies and every village if it meant feeling your warmth.

He’d do it all.

He would give you his all, steadying his pace so that you might taste the same drops of pleasure he was experiencing. So that you might throw your head back in ecstasy like he did, identical moans leaving the two of you as you came undone.

For you, it came in the form of clenching down on Jace’s cock, crying out as your peak hit you violently. You panted, biting into his shoulder as he did yours and rocking your hips to the sensation.

For Jacaerys, it came in the form of hot spurts, coating your walls with his seed like a good husband should. Like a good king, who would surely need to provide heirs one day.

You were all too willing to compete this task, sucking him in, milking him of his children until Jacaerys had nothing left to give. Until he was an empty shell above you, eyes closed and utterly exhausted as he rolled to the floor beside you.

It took a few minutes for anything expect for your heavy panting to fill the room. Both you and Jace were dazed, still out of it and not quite sure what had just happened. Still experiencing the bliss from your first night of marriage. One, that if anything, indicated that a good marriage was on the horizon indeed.

For you, the night had been everything you hoped for and more. Worth the wait, which you were sure that Jacaerys appreciated now that his honor and his cock reminded satified.

Perhaps the two could co-exist now, you concluded. Staring at your beloved as he turned to face you too, a small smile peaking at his lips.

“Iksin ziry worth se umbagon syt ao pār, ñuha jorrāelagon?” He asked, as shallow breaths overtook his body still. (Was it worth the wait then, my love?)

You grinned as you looked into his brown eyes and eagerly nodded, reminiscing on your peak that had happened only minutes before.

You were still dazed, still hazy but your mind was clear enough that you knew your answer before you uttered it. You loved this man, and you knew that you had made the right decision.

“Kessa, īles worth se umbagon indeed, ñuha jorrāelagon,” You promised softly, using the High Valerian he had taught you. Gazing into his eyes that had gone soft for you. That held love for you and silently promised you that this was it, that Jacaerys would always be worthy of anything till the end of your days. “Kesā va moriot sagon worth ziry naejot nyke.” (Yes, it was worth the wait indeed, my love. You will always be worth it to me.)

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon

[diaryoftheunidropout]

DAY 55

Welp. Today sure was a pain in the ass. Still positive stuff about it though.

So yesterday I didn't have a proper meal, only a little bit of dried fruit that I binged because I was stressed out about the Heartstopper S2 announcement. I think it was the first time ever I went a day without really eating at all. That means I went over 48h without a proper meal. And the worst part is I didn't even feel that hungry or anything. I find starving myself way easier than it should be. I did eat this evening though, at the restaurant, but skipped breakfast and lunch.

I was woken up at 8AM by the sound of my mom struggling to close the door behind her (for some weird reason there's no door handle). At first I thought she was just picking up the mail or something, but when I noticed she wasn't coming back, I checked and saw she'd taken her phone, purse and coat with her. I was worried and I didn't understand, but then she texted me kindly letting me know she'd gone for a walk and would come back when I'd tell her I was awake since she didn't have the keys and only I could open the door for her. I replied right away that I was awake, but she said she was going to stay out to walk and answer some voice messages. She came home at around 10AM apologizing for getting angry at me the night before.

Looking back now, I am quite sure she wasn't answering voice messages, but was actually on a call with a man she told me about. Some dude apparently living in Switzerland but travelling all across Europe all the time because he's a renowned architect and has a daughter living in London. He tried calling her the other day when my mom arrived. He allegedly lost his wife to cancer three years ago. I saw pics of him. I feel like he's a fucking liar. About the pics, about his job... Everything.

Everything was going pretty fine in the afternoon. I wrote my first article for a media my best friend-godmother works for and it was posted! April 25th, mark your calendars!! This might be the start of a great big thing, idk!!! Then I took my mom to see a play I'd loved and had actually seen because the friend who works for a media was invited alongside the press, and she could have a +1! It was just as lovely as the first time and I accidentally crossed paths with a friend I knew from MIDDLE SCHOOL. The middle school from a small town of a little over 1,000 inhabitants, 350km away from here... literally insane, and not the first time it happens to me. Then we heard from my grandma who had medical exams to take and it went better than expected. Then my mom and I decided to go to the restaurant and that's when my day went really bad.

I wasn't peeking or trying to invade my mom's privacy, but I saw the name of the Swiss guy popping up on her phone, and a message that started with "hello my lover".

So now I am 99% sure my mother is a hypocrite who lies to me.

Don't get me wrong, I do not give a single shit whether or not she's fucking around with men or dating men, or anything. Literally none of my business and I don't care that she might be hiding things from me. But her crying all the time to ME, her late husband's only daughter, about being a poor widow who will never love again, and THEN doing the very opposite of that is LYING and HYPOCRISY and I cannot fucking stand it.

I don't care if she's hiding things from me, I care if she's lying to me, because that's different. I'm pretty sure that the other dude she told me about and who ditched her, causing her to fall into an anorexic episode, was actually her boyfriend, not just her friend. I CARE that she's lying because all of these men are fucking using her and destroying her and then *I* am the one who pays all the fucking consequences of having a mother so unstable she triggers my self-harm behaviors every time I see her. I am so fucking mad I am so filled with rage and I am so trying to contain everything within but, oh boy, the day it all fucking EXPLODES... I'm afraid it's sooner than I actually think. I'm pretty sure she's writing to him right now and it makes me so fucking SICK to think this morning she woke me up early after I'd had a shitty night only to leave me for some man she's never met irl and who's going to demolish her mental health even further. Like yeah I surely haven't been the fucking best at helping her mental health considering how shitty my own was, but there was only ONE SINGLE FUCKING PERSON who spent 2 hours on their knees comforting her when she was drunk as hell and had binge eaten and couldn't stop crying, and that was my 15 year old traumatized and depressed ass, not any of these dirty pigs.

She knows she's destroying herself, she KNOWS her fucking billion relationships with men is killing her, and she keeps spending her entiiiiiiiiire days on dating apps and talking to one man and then another and another and talking and talking and blah blah it's all that matters and I'm going to cry out of rage if I go any further.

The wound I gave myself yesterday didn't hurt me when I made it, but it's been so sensitive today and there have been hours where the pain was almost unbearable. It's worse than any of the other wounds I've ever had.

I am in such constant pain. I wish it would end. I wish I would die. Because I love my mother more than I love anyone else on Earth and she is fucking destroying me further and further because our relationship has become so beyond toxic, except she's my MOM, my fucking BLOOD, not some random person I can just ditch for my own well-being.

I wish she would fucking try to heal for once so I'm not the only stupid bitch out of the two of us fucking fighting to try to make the most of her life as best as she can.

It hurts all the time. All of it.

[claytonsguardianangel]

I wince, “I am sorry you had to see that, bubs.” I nod and gently take the letter, “go take a nap, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow.” I give him a smile before breaking open the seal to read the letter.

My nose burns with my tears as I read through how lonely he is, my hand rubbing Juliet’s back all the while. I wince at the stain of blood along the side of the letter.

He just wants us with us. Maybe I could help him if I was there. Maybe not be fully light again, maybe not, but close enough that he could be a good ruler. Ruling in both fear and love. Kind of like Yoda.

I rip one of my pages in two two write back since I don’t know how many more letters I’ll need. Maybe he won’t be able to find me right away so we’ll need to exchange more.

Ben,

Please excuse the ripped page, I made the edge as pretty as I could. I don’t know how many letters we’ll be exchanging and resources are pretty slim… for a prisoner. You see now why I cannot come? You felt me ‘die’ because I have a binder on.

Zip is my only friend, he’s also the only one that has agreed to smuggle me things in and out. He’s a good kid. Mind feeding him this next trip? Rations are shit here and he’s never had mashed potatoes. You make the best mashed potatoes. The Empire killed his three sisters and parents, but it was droids so no fault of your own. Even he thinks that. He hates droids now, though. I want him to go to Mandalore. He deserves a family like Mandalorians. Maybe when I get out I’ll take him there. I think he’s lying about his age, he’s too small for fourteen. Maybe twelve or eleven. Jafan would take him.

Juliet smiled her first smile yesterday. I was singing a lullaby, so I’m definitely taking all of the credit, of course. I want her to smile at you, though.

Zip says it was a bad day for you and I’d have to agree based off of your letter. I’m sorry. I want you to know the second I get out I’m coming to your side. I do not stay away from you because I want to. I love you. I want Juliet to have her father. Never really wanted to be a single mom and not gonna lie, dude, it’s kinda shit. I’m tired as hell.

Gonna have to cut this letter off here, running out of page even writing tiny and front to back. I love you. Be well. Get three heating blankets and meditate before bed.

Your wife,

Lili

Ps. I call her Jude, think it’s cute?

Zip waits for a few hours again after delivering the letter before he returns to Virgil's office, pausing at the pure rage on the man's face as he still holds your letter.

"Uh... E-Emperor sir?" he breathes, "Is- Is everything okay?"

"Sit, Zip." Virgil gestures. "You are not in trouble- please, just sit."

Zip gulps and moves over, slowly sitting across from him. "What... is it, sir?"

Virgil carefully sets the letter down and gets out two platter containers, pulling out a plate of food for each of them and handing Zip's over. "I want you to sit, relax, and eat. Eat slowly. Just enjoy it. Nobody's going to take it from you."

Zip studies the food and then slowly grabs the fork Virgil holds out, taking a careful bite of potatoes- and humming at the flavor.

"Lili tells me... you are her friend," Virgil starts, watching this poor, thin-as-a-rail kid scarf down his food anyway, "I thank you, for looking out for her. She means more to me than anyone could ever know. Which is why... I need you to tell me everything you know, Zip."

Zip straightens, "I- I can't-"

"Yes you can," Virgil nods slowly. "And you must. She is in danger there. Every single day. I want to go get her."

"I'll be in so much trouble-"

"Zip." Virgil tilts his head. "I will protect you. She has a plan to take you out of there with her- you will not be left behind. That is a promise."

Zip sighs softly and takes a deep breath, setting his fork down so he isn't tempted to eat while telling Virgil the whole story, holding absolutely nothing back.

Virgil sends him home that night with two platters more of food- one for him again and one for you, too.

And that night, when Zip returns home, he sits next to you on your bed and carefully unpacks the platters from his backpack. "He is coming," he says quietly, praying nobody hears. "He- He knows where we are. I told him everything."

[shesharesomething]

15Dec2022

Today was supposed to be a beautiful, fun & productive day we planned to go to pay Realty tax at the cityhall, go to the mall, eat lunch there and buy some christmas gifts, then go to seascape village, quality time with the Mayordo family – enjoy the sunset & eat dinner.

But here I am waiting on the long queue alone with all my emotions and grabe ang sakit ng mata ko. all I can say is I am so sad. somehow I feel relieved because i said no and pinindigan ko. Hindi to dahil sa ang pride ko or ang tigas ng ulo ko, but more of i wanted to let him know that mali ung ginawa nya and I am hurt.

He said sorry naman, he was sincere, he even approached me. I appreciate that. I just don’t like what he did. I just cannot accept how he reacted. Maybe he is tamed for a short peroid of time but after awhile he is back with himself, raging, thinking most of his feelings rather than mine.

He even priority the idea of sumama na ako kahit hindi kami okay, kahit na hindi ako okay. Just letting all my emotions be gone in a snap, without even processing it. And I hate it. I decided not to come because I am hurt and i felt like i haven't process all my emotions and i don’t like his approach, he might say here is so sincere but i see that he just want to reconcile because we will be going somewhere, another pleasing, another acting like nothing happened. I just can’t come and forgive you easily because I am hurt. I cannot ignore my feelings and in snap i have to be the happy Sam you want me to be to face your family. By allowing you to do this makes me feel you have control in my life and i cannot process my emotions. You may feel i am selfish but i am doing this for myself to outgrow that habit of ignoring what I really feel and putting others first like I always did.

Also, this is not the first time that this happened. I already told him before — to calm down first before saying anything else, kasi nga ganun sya, tuwing galit sya at nagsalita sya — may mga nasasabi sya na hindi maganda, matinding throwback na naman yan at labasan ng sama ng loob. And I am so over this. I just hurt me and i cannot contain this.

Tulad ng sinabi ko sa knya, sana bago sya nagdada, bago nya sinabi mga sama ng loob nya, bago nya ako pinagalitan or bago sya nagrant, sana naisip nya kung tama ba tong timing ko? Will I ruin our day? Will I hurt her? Is this the right time?

I cannot imagine all these things he just said. I am so arrogant. I do not submit. Umaattide na naman ako. I don’t respect his feelings. I don’t value his family. I don’t listen. What does these all means? Does he hold grudges on me? Maybe he never forgiven me from my past mistakes. I cannot understand. Lord enlighten me.

Yes, I am so emotional right now because of all the feelings I have with my mom, the idea of hindi sure if uuwi ng Bicol. My anxiety about my studies, about Lolo. The pressure I have with mommy. The frustration of being the good wife, about our finances. My fear of the future. My frustration in my spiritual growth. All of that I my head and I do not know how to deal with those. Now I see the value of having a community, a strong spiritual discipline, and a mentor. And I just pray that I have, para kahit na anong ibato sakin kaya ko. I pray i have strong and stable relationship with God, so I can overcome all the sadness and hurtfulness I feel inside of me.

Now i start to question myself. Am i really emotional? Am i really arrogant? Am i really not submitting to my husband? Am i really not listening? Am i really not caring about other’s feelings or situation?

maybe its time to acknowledge all the things I did for the past. On my own opinion, i am so productive that I tend to oversee my full time job. I make sure i cleaned the house, cooked food, did the laundry, fold the clothes, this sounds so cliche coz it’s just the normal things we do everyday, but i tell you I am so tired, damn exhausted. There are days, i am no longer happy doing this every freaking day and just knowing that he is there complaining that he is also tired and sleepy and just using his phone, scrolling and scrolling, i just hate those days. But u know he didnt hear any comments from me. Maybe with the old me, i will nag him to death. But i let go of the idea- that same old shit that at the very first place he should know what he should be doing. You know I am amaze how sometimes he do other stuff like washing dishes, cleaning sunday, sweeping the floor, but i don't know i just don't feel it. maybe i need to let it go or maybe napangunahan na ako nung idea na naiinis ako sa mga una ng ginawa before chores.

On the other side, I know I am so blessed to marry a man with good family backgroud, who has good faith, someone who is passionate with his ministry, who values his family and real friends, who speaks his mind, who is very patient, someone na magaling makisama kahit di nya naiintindihan ung pinaguusapan namen, someone who chose me everyday, someone who appreciate my beauty and charm, someone who adores me, someone uninterruptedly focus well to do his job and the list continue. But why do I feel this way? after all those good things about him. I love him as my husband but there are some things, i want him to do to make me feel secured. I don't know what would it be. Maybe, I want him to start using his phone productively. I want him to find a side hustle. I want him to have a sense of urgency. I don't know. We are not getting any younger and i want to have a good quality of stable life, financial independent and the best spiritual and mental health. And I am afraid I cannot see that, maybe 20%. Sorry to say. And that triggers me everyday. That fear in my head.

Also, I also feel like that he haven’t forgive me regarding all my shortcomings, all your frustrations, because he always brought that back when we argue. Knowing and hearing those coming from him all over again, really hurt me and saddens my heart. you know I realize this quote, "hurt people hurt people" this is the sad truth of my life, i know i should not make this as an excuse to hurt his feelings, or mag-inarte whenever i feel like doing it but all i ask is for him to help me. I am so hurt, maybe sometimes he cannot see because I try to hide it, with all the fun stories I have, the trivia i have - all of those are just a coping mechanism for me not to feel so sad about my life. You know I also realize now you are with your family, who can comfort you about all your sad feelings, who understands you, who are there for you, and sad to say I have none of those. I am happy with all of my family members, but I do not have that support, comfort and love that you have and received. All i need to do is be happy, let them see that I am happy, always expect me to be happy. maybe that is also the reason why, i always love to take care of others, to please other, because I don't like the feeling of not taken care of, i don't like the feeling of being ignored. I also realized, I am so forgiving to the point that sometimes, we don't see the essence of forgiveness and we became so complacent resulting to doing the same old shit that we do, but in the end i am reminding that I do not have the full control of whatever you or other think or feel, because I cannot avenge myself rather surrender it all to God, like He said, "Vengeance is mine". and now I can say, I am still hurt of what happened to us, on what you said, what i said, what you did, what i did, but i choose to forgive you. i know you are just tired, frustrated and sad. I also choose to forgive myself, speaking out and doing the things I never knew I will do. somehow, I am happy for allowing myself to be vulnerable and to stand firm with my decision. Again, sorry I was not able to spend time with your family, sorry for hurting your feelings, sorry for hurting their feelings, sorry for ruining the moment. I just wanted you to know that I did not do that intentionally to hurt you or because I did not respect or value you and your family but I did that because I am hurt. I surrender to God all the guilt i feel, all the disappointment, all the pain, frustration I am feeling right now. I may not have someone who can comfort me, who can make me feel loved, who can listen to me, but I have Jesus in heart, i know I have God who will comfort me, enlighten me, sustain all my needs, remove all my worries and frustrations, who will forgive me and never judge me who continue accept me for who I am. I do not know in what form, but all I know is I peace in my heart right now. Letting you know I feel is hard but I will do it anyway. I have to let go all of these to move forward. I will not expect you to immediately forgive me because I know i hurt your feelings too and I never acted what you expected me to do. I will just let go, and Let God heal us. I may want you to do something for me, I want you to value what I feel, to promise me that you will never do that again, that you will stay calm and you will be slow to speak, slow to anger, and forgive yourself for doing that, and forgiving me for all pain and frustrations I caused you, but all of these will not make sense if you don't have peace in your heart. Right now, I respect whatever decision you make and pray that may God enlighten you and give you peace.

[asianhappinesss]

Descendants of the Sun (2016)

Summary

A love story that develops between a surgeon and a special forces officer. Kang Mo Yeon is a pretty and assertive woman who works as a cardiothoracic surgeon at Haesung Hospital. She isn't afraid to admit her mistakes and believes that capability overrides whatever connections you have. However, she is soon faced with the reality that she cannot advance with just capability. Her life is forever changed when she encounters Yoo Shi Jin, the Captain and team leader of Alpha Team who cares more about protecting anybody in need of help as well as his country, even if it goes against the order of his superiors. This drama will tell of how they both bond together in a time of war and overcome the odds against them.

Review

This review may contain spoilers

When I think of Descendants of the Sun, the first thing that comes to mind is cheese! This show is extra cheesy, and honestly I love cheese! Unfortunately, I am also kinda lactose intolerant, so after eating a certain amount of cheese I am left with regrets, and a stomach ache. That's exactly how I felt after watching the last episode. *Cue the rage of a thousand fans* I think the biggest problem I had with this show is that it tried to mix in three genres without a coherent plot to bring it all together. It's part rom-com, part military drama, and part hospital sitcom. The love story is probably what makes most people excited about the show, the military scenes are a cool action bonus, and the hospital sitcom keeps things from getting too heavy and depressing. Unfortunately, because the script is so weak, I was too disconnected to keep caring about the show, and it started to become very boring. I kept watching for one reason only Song Joong Ki. Song Joong Ki is oddly cast in a lot of ways. He has a super baby face, and boyish charm, but still managed to be a believable bad@ss soldier. I would easily rate his character/acting 10. Not only did I develop a 16 episode crush on him, but I really cared about his assignments. The show would have been a million times more enjoyable for me if they just let his story be the center, or rather, the bromance between Shi Jin, and Dae Yeong. Their relationship was my favorite part of the show. Their characters didn't have much depth individually, but their bromance was solid. There is also great chemistry between Song Joong Ki, and Song Hye Kyo, but not much to their overall story. Every moment with them is exactly the same - they flirt, they separate, she gets mad, he's extra charming, they flirt again. Early on, I really started to dislike Dr. Kang Mo Yeon, which made it hard to sympathize with her anger at him. Eventually I started to like her a little more, but no matter how cute their flirty scenes, or how strangely amusing their brink of death dating was, their story is still repetitive, which gets old quick. The 2nd leads also had a romance, that had a few more obstacles thrown their way (parents, distance, almost dying), but was just as repetitive - fight, confess, spontaneous affection, fight. It's like each story just filled in the same blanks for each episode. It was actually the older minor characters who had the most interesting love story. I thought Seo Jeong Yeon and Lee Seung Jun were really cute, and deserve an honorable mention. The supporting cast was pretty good. Some were much better than others, and some were almost completely useless (the head of the hospital... that ditzy doctor... ugh). I had to bring the acting down to an 8 because of that, but the cast is really the only good thing this show has going for it. What was the point of this drama? At first it seemed like a way to show how hard it can be to date a soldier, but because the show didn't take itself seriously, it was hard for me to take that too seriously, even with that emotionally manipulative 15th episode. The conflicts at the hospital were ridiculous, and mostly filler.

The best episodes took place when the medical staff went overseas to Urk, but once that was over, the show seemed to have no clue what to do. Did they run out of travel budget, so they decided to just wing it for the last episodes? Even in Urk, the plot was super predictable, and totally unrealistic, but it was still very entertaining (yummy Cheese!!!).

When they returned, my feelings about the show went downhill, and I was no longer excited about watching the next episode. Then suddenly things got very serious out of nowhere, only to end with the silliest (and worst) last episode I've ever seen in any drama (yes THE worst!). I wonder if episode 15 was the original ending, and then it was changed last minute to avoid a backlash. That's the only thing I can think of as an explanation for why it was so bad. The music? meh. The scenery? epic. The english spoken? decent. The shirtless men running? Daebak. Would I rewatch? Not unless someone makes an edited version of only scenes with Song Joong Ki. Overall It's like they rolled a kdrama dice and just threw stuff in at random to get people hooked, then they just focused on all the ways they can successfully incorporate product placement. Maybe that was the real point, to see how many ads they could sneak into a drama. Even though there were moments I really enjoyed, I can't recommend this drama, especially after sitting through that ending. I wish they cut it down to 10 episodes, removing all the unnecessary fluff, and sneaky ads (subway, hyundai, make up, coffee, snacks, hiking equipments, travel apps... umm... except for the self driving car, because that scene was actually cool ) then maybe it would be a drama worthy of all the hype. Or maybe you can treat my review like lactaid. Now that you know what to expect, maybe you can better digest all the cheese this show has to offer.

#kdrama

[generic-wattpad-badboy]

Bat family Incorrect Quotes

Tim: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

Y/N: How am I supposed to know?

Dick: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Y/N: *sighs*

Y/N: You wouldn't be trapped

*The group is getting into the car*

 Dick: I’m driving.

 Y/N, out of view: Shotgun!

 Tim, turning to face Y/N: Aww! But you had it on the way here-

 Everyone except Y/N: WOAH-

 Y/N, holding a shotgun: No! I found a shotgun! And I want the front seat! *Pumps gun*

Dick, driving Y/N and tim: So how was your day?

Y/N: We almost got surprised adopted!

Dick: What?

Tim: We almost got kidnapped.

Dick: Oh, okay.

Dick: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

Jason: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.

Y/N: The cow???

Jason: What?

Dick: Y/N, W H Y?

Jason : Go to Hell

Damien, tearing up: I wish I could

Y/N: Self care is getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys.

 Dick: No, self-care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it or taking a nice warm nap!

Damien: Self-care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self-care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self-care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!

Jason: Lmao self-care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting.

Damien: If you touch my birthday cake, I’ll make you eat your hands

.

Jason: If you had to choose between Y/N and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?

 Damien: That depends, how much money are we talking about?

Y/N: !

 Jason : 63 cents.

Damien: I'll take the money.

 Y/N: DAMIEN!!

Y/N: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.

 Jason: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you.

Tim : There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

Bruce: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Jason?

 Jason: … No.

Dick : I do!

Bruce: I know, .

Dick: I’m sad!

Bruce: I know,

Y/N: I told Damien their ears flush when they lie.

Jason : Why?

Y/N: Look.

Y/N: Hey Damien! Do you love us?

Damien, covering his ears: No.

Bruce: While I’m gone, Y/N, you’re in charge.

Y/N: Yes!!!

Bruce, whispering: , you’re secretly in charge.

Dick: Obviously.

Y/N, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

 Bruce: You did WHAT–

 Damien: William Snakepeare

Tim: Y/N and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Bruce : *Sighing* What did Y/N do?

 Tim: They chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

 Y/N: Who wants a steering wheel?

Jason: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

 Tim: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

 Jason: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Y/N : edible

#x male reader #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damien wayne #bat family #wayne family adventures #incorrect quotes #dick grayson x male reader #jason todd x male reader

[dragonmasterkaylz]

Wife of Poseidon

WARNING: Contains Smut, Rape & Brutal Murder. If you are sensitive to these topics or under the age of 18, don’t read. Also, if my interpretation of Poseidon is a little off, I do apologise. And he is a little (very) yandere in this. This also contains a character of my own making… so if you don’t like that, don’t read it.

Within Poseidon’s Palace, lives a beautiful woman with gorgeous blue hair that almost sparkled in the light. Her eyes matched the blue of the ocean and her body was so voluptuous, only wearing a white bodysuit with golden accents and pale blue jewels on her collar and her hips. Along with gloves and matching stockings, a sheer blue material connecting her outfit together and trailing behind her. Her name is Aquamarie and she was Poseidon’s Queen.

She was beyond beautiful in Poseidon’s eyes and the perfect Queen for him due to her Humility and Kindness. And no one was allowed to look directly at his Queen unless they wanted their head to leave their shoulders. The God wasn’t necessarily worried that another man would steal his Queen from him, especially since she had already pledged her loyalty to him and loved him unconditionally. He just didn’t want his beautiful wife to be tainted with another ones gaze, especially from his servants.

She walked down the Palace, and into the Throne Room, only to find a bunch of dead servants and her angry husband. ‘Oh dear! Isn’t it too early for this?! I only just woke up!!!’ She ran over to him and asked, “What happened?!!” He looked at his wife and gently stroked her cheek, making her blush and smile under his gentle touch. “They were tainting you with their with words of lust and perversion, thinking I wouldn’t hear them. Anyone who thinks like that about you must be taken out… no questions asked. Now, let’s leave… I wouldn’t want their blood to taint your loveliness”, he told her.

The other Gods believed that Poseidon was actually using Aquamarie more as his property than his actual wife. But the truth was far sweeter. She is the only woman that understands him, the only woman to love him for the brutal God he is, and the only woman he could love. Which is exactly the reason why he wouldn’t want anyone to taint her with their disgusting words, touch or even sight. This was just in his nature, to keep his wife from experiencing anything he deemed unworthy of her.

“Poseidon… you really must stop killing our servants though, or else you won’t have any left. Next time, just try throwing them in the dungeon”, she suggested. He hummed and asked, “Do you disagree with my methods?” She sighed and gently placed her hands on his chest before saying, “Of course not. But you should think about this logically. You cannot always resort to violence when things start to displease you.” He hummed and walked past her before saying, “You know I cannot do that my love. There are reasons for my titles, and I cannot throw that away by suddenly becoming merciful.”

Aquamarie stood next to him in silence and he looked at her before suddenly stopping in his tracks. “Hm…?” She stopped and turned back to look at him. His stance was almost as solid as rock, but she giggled when she saw the softness in his eyes… as well as the slight blush in his cheeks. She placed her arms around him and then kissed him gently. Poseidon closed his eyes and kissed her back, making every servant watch. He only had one weakness and that was the beautiful woman in his arms. No one would think that ‘The Most Fearsome God’ had a soft side and that’s because only his wife saw it. If anyone else did… they were killed.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve kissed you as soon as I saw you”, she said with blush coating her cheeks. He then whispered in her ear, “That’s going to cost you later, my beloved.” Then he held her hand and walked to the meeting room, where many other Olympian Gods and Goddesses were. Hermes bowed respectfully in their presence and then said, “Lady Aquamarie, I have tea and cakes laid out for you.” She smiled happily and said, “Thank you Hermes~!” And then she took her seat next to her husband before looking happily at her spread. “I see that your wife has a sweet tooth, brother!”, Zeus said with a smirk. “Hmph.” “Silent as ever I see.”

After the meeting was over, Poseidon walked out with his wife, who was still eating cake. “Hmm~, delicious~!” He looked at her and sighed before grabbing her chin, making her look at him. “You’re a messy eater…”, he said to her before licking her chin and then her lips. She blushed heavily and finished eating, before looking up at him. “Hm… not my first choice. But it’s not bad either”, he said to her before walking away. “H-Hey…! You can’t just do something like that and then walk away as if nothing happened!”, she protested. He chuckled at the claim she was making and then said, “Don’t dawdle then… come here if you want me to pleasure you but also punish you for not kissing me as soon as you woke up.”

Hours later, in the bedroom, Poseidon had his wife begging for mercy under his surprisingly gentle touch. He had already cum inside of her multiple times but he didn’t let her cum once, overstimulating her. Aquamarie begged and begged as he trusted into her while playing with her clit, making her scream out. He smirked and kissed her neck as he used his other hand to squeeze her breast. “M-My Lord… Poseidon~…! I’m begging you…!!! It won’t happen again…!!! Let me cum~…!!!”, she begged as she leaned her head back on his shoulder. Poseidon loved the fact that his wife was a masochist, but even he knew that she had her limits. She tried to stop herself, but she started to squirt into his hand. He smirked and whispered, “Don’t you dare… not until I finish inside of you again, my dearest.”

She screamed as she was put onto her hands and knees. He spanked her a few times, making sure red marks were present on her. Then he held her hips pretty hard, hoping bruises would form on her beautiful body. He leaned down and kissed her skin, leaving more and more markings on her. He wanted the entire world to know that she belonged to him and only him. She was his Queen, his Wife, his beloved and hopefully one day… the Mother of his children. “I want to breed you…”, he confessed. “Then please… breed me. I want your children~”, she responded before turning around so she could look at him. He kissed her and then said, “Cum with me, my love.” Poseidon grunted as he felt himself cum inside of her once more, but that was nothing compared to her screaming as she came. “POSEIDON~!!!”

Aquamarie fell on their bed as he pulled out of her and gently pulled her into his arms, kissing her head. A giggle escaped her lips and she kissed his cheek. “That was mean.” He smirked and then kissed her properly before saying, “But you deserved divine punishment for not kissing me this morning.” She cupped his cheeks and brought him down for another kiss, wrapping her arms around him. “Hmm… don’t tempt me to fuck you again.” “Hehe~. I won’t… I don’t think my hips can handle it…”, she replied. Poseidon rested her upon their bed and kissed her cheek. “Rest up, my love.” “I will.” As he exited the room, fully clothed, a few servants wanted to exact revenge on the God for his ruthless nature.

Poseidon sat on his throne, looking as bored as ever. His wife was sleeping, there were no more meetings for the day, so he felt as though he could just fall asleep then and there. He closed his eyes and smiled as he thought about his beloved Queen and their future children. But that was interrupted by Aquamarie’s scream. His eyes widened and he grabbed his Trident before heading straight to his bedroom, only to see a few of Aquamarie’s maids outside, attempting to get in. “Stand back!”, he ordered. Once they were out of the way, he kicked the door down, taking it off its hinges and walked in.

His eyes widened at what he saw. Three of his servants having their way with his defenceless wife. Her eyes almost had no colour in them as they fucked her from behind, fucked her mouth and took pleasure in the sight of Poseidon’s wife being violated by them. “You filthy bastards…!”, he said, his voice filled with rage as he pulled the one watching away from her and skewered him with his Trident, not killing him though. He then pointed the bloody Trident at the other two and shouted, “Get your filthy cocks away from my wife, this instant!!!” His orders were clear, but they were ignored.

Aquamarie then screamed as one of them grabbed her hair, pushing himself further inside, hurting her. Tears ran down her cheeks, which was the last straw for him. He grabbed the one violating her mouth and threw him against the wall, knocking him out. “I’m sorry my dear…”. And finally used the end of his Trident to push the other against the headboard, knocking him out as well. His wife then crawled up to him and hugged him. “I-I’m sorry…!!!” “Don’t you dare apologise… they’ll be receiving the worst punishment possible for this”, he whispered back to her. “Maids! Take care of my Queen and clean her up!” They obeyed immediately and two of them helped her stand up before placing a robe around her.

While the servants were being tortured, the maids cleaned her up, and then got her to rest in a hot spring just after her bath. “Is that all, my lady?”, one of them asked. “Yes… please tell Poseidon where I am. I want to see him.” “Of course. Please have a lovely rest”, the maid said before leaving. Tears ran down the Queens cheeks and she cried into her hands, as she felt as if she had betrayed her own husband. The maid walked down into the dungeons and approached Poseidon, bowing in the process. “My Lord… Queen Aquamarie would like to see you in the hot springs as soon as possible.” “Alright…”.

The Tyrant of the Seas was covered in blood, looking at the three servants who violated his beloved wife. They weren’t so much as allowed to look at her, so the crime they committed deserved a fate worse than death. “Call Hades and make sure these three are tortured in the Underworld for all eternity”, Poseidon said as he walked away. “Yes, my Lord.” The God showered himself and washed away the blood before heading towards the Hot Spring, which he only had in his Palace since Aquamarie loved the ones in Japan. He wasn’t too fond of humans, if anything he hated them. But he tolerated their customs, especially if his wife did.

Poseidon wasn’t surprised to see his wife crying on the side of the hot spring. He got in the water alongside her and gently pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry…! I’m sorry!” He rubbed her back and said, “I told you not to apologise. You were asleep, tired and sore. They used that to their advantage… but I can assure you, that they’ve been punished for their actions.” She nodded, but that did not stop her from crying her heart out. Unlike most Gods and Goddesses, she did not have a heart of steel and was very gentle. He kissed her and placed a hand over heart, as if he wanted to heal it. “Hey… you’re still having my children”, he reminded her. She giggled and said, “Yes… Yes I am~.”

END

#record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok poseidon #canon x oc #don’t like don’t read

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

“I cannot fathom how you tolerate being in nature constantly. It is musty, hot, sticky, and infested. Utterly horrible.”

“I was told you were the most esteemed warlock in Europe, yet you prickle the second a beetle lands on your arm? Interesting.”

“Bugs are vile.”

“And dismembering a rodent is not?”

“We do not dismember rodents!” Harry defends hotly, tripping over a large mound of moss and rocks, catching himself just before his knees give way.

He thanks the universe the girl is too busy weaving through plants and trees to notice, or else his embarrassment would have left him no choice but to sever his life at that very instant. “Most of the time, we attempt to gather animals that have died of natural causes. We collect their bodies, use what we need for spells and rituals, and consecrate their bones out of respect.”

“I see.” She hums thoughtfully, swiftly ducking below a tangled vine and hopping over a discarded log. “Still atrocious.”

Harry hates how graceful she looks as she glides through the thick woods, avoiding every obstacle as if the forest is an extension of her own body, rather than an aggravating hurdle. She’s in her element, where as Harry is as far away from his as possible, and it’s driving him to the brink of insanity. He feels lost and incompetent, given that he rarely ever ventures this far out without any of his trusty companions or horses, whereas Y/N had been exploring the wilderness around his estate freely from the second she’d arrived. He’s at her complete mercy, and he couldn’t be more spiteful about it. His lack of control is stunting his usual confidence and poise, and he’d rather eat poison ivy before he lets her see him so disoriented and unnerved.

Her airy voice plucks at his ears, drawing his attention to her once again. “Also, I have a query.”

“Pray tell.”

“Where exactly is it that you go to collect these animals?”

Harry opens his mouth to reply, the answer so apparent he has to resist the urge to taunt her for asking. But before he can get the word out, realization dawns on him, and he feels his tongue go sour as her rhetoric comes into light. She’d trapped him, and now he has no choice but to make a mockery of himself. “…Nature. They come from nature.”

“Hm.”

“Do not get smug with me.”

“I was not being smug, I was simply making an observation.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her bitterly, swatting away a swarm of mosquitos. “Do you always make such observations with that condescending smile on your face, Your Eminence?”

Y/N’s lips twitch as she muscles down a snarky laugh, pushing through more underbrush as they head through the forest in search of an adequate clearing for today’s lesson. “Only when said observations amuse me, My Lord.”

“You ought to learn a bit more respect.” He hisses pettily, following after her with his face twisting at the humidity washing over his body in putrid waves.

Y/N releases the branch she had been holding back, allowing for it smack him right in the face. She continues to tread forward without so much as a glance behind her, for if she does, it will be obvious that she had let the tree hit him on purpose. It’s hardly a loss, anyways; she gains more than enough pleasure from the pitchy yelp he shrieks. “And you ought to grow a pair instead of whining like a child.”

Harry shoves the leafy branch out of his way and rubs at the welt beginning to form between his eyebrows, spewing Latin curses below his breath. He follows behind his wife, his eyes searing bright purple with barely contained rage. “You are wretched.”

“And you are a spoiled toddler in a crown.” Y/N bites back easily, finally breaking through the mounds of tree roots and shrubbery into a small plane of grass. “It seems we were both led astray by our reputations. You believed me to be docile, and I believed you to be a man. How unfortunate.”

“You seem to think me a man when I am between your legs.”

“It is the only time you appear to be one.”

Anger spikes inside Harry’s toned chest, the tips of his fingers crackling with threatening energy as his emotions flare. The warlock takes a deep inhale, refusing to let the young woman work his last surviving nerve. She’s good at being insufferable, but he’s dealt with much worse. He’s handled grating rituals, insubordinate allies, and gruesome rites of passage; he can handle a mouthy witch with an attitude problem just as well.

Y/N heads for the center of the circular area, plopping her grimoire down on the ground so she can arrange her dress in a manner that will allow her to sit down comfortably without forfeiting her modesty. “I reckon you are not the one doing the carcass retrievals, then? For your spells and such?”

“Of course not.” Harry huffs, brushing leaves and twigs off his elegant velvet vest as he stomps mud off his boots. “That is what servants are for.”

“Not anymore.” The witch exclaims with finality, dropping to her knees on the soft grass as she cracks her aged leather-bound book wide open. Harry gives her a quick once-over, biting his tongue to keep himself from making a crude joke about how pretty she looks on her knees. “You must learn to get in tune with nature if you are to learn my coven’s way of magic.”

“Our coven.” The sorcerer corrects, beginning to undo the buttons of his vest. With the hike they’d just taken and the sweltering sun breaking through the canopy, he’s decided it’s much too hot to be in so many layers, and he won’t be able to focus on the lectures if he’s roasting like a pig. His flouncy linen shirt will cover him just fine, and even if it becomes see-through with sweat, it’s not like Y/N hasn’t seen him in less clothes.

“My apologies, it was an honest mistake.” The girl chirps, watching carefully as he shrugs off his garment and hangs it across a nearby branch so the wind can air it out.

Her comment wasn’t a mistake. She did it on purpose to rile him up, and with the way his brows are furrowing deeper with every passing moment, the way the edges of his satin lips carve downwards in irritation, and the way he’s scratching across his body at the phantom itches from his disdain towards insects, she can tell her little game is working as intended. It tickles her beyond reason.

She clears her throat gently, smoothing out the crumpled yellow pages of her precious novel, skimming through the lesson to get her mindset in order. “Let us begin, shall we?”

Harry suddenly slaps at his cheek, squashing a few gnats in the process and releasing a sound of utter disgust as he wipes the remnants on his pants. “Is all this truly necessary?”

“Is what necessary?” She asks innocently, though they both know the tone is fabricated.

“All of this.” Harry sighs roughly, waving his hand around wildly to signal at all of the surrounding wilderness. “Dragging me out here for today’s class, making me endure this heat, forcing me to get eaten alive by pests. How does any of it contribute to my training?”

“It is how I was taught, so it is how I will teach you.” Y/N replies simply, patting the dirt in front of her in a gesture that invites him to join her. “But I cannot teach if you do not cooperate.”

“I cannot cooperate with vermin crawling all over me as an impending heat stroke looms over my head.”

“Your first lesson,” Y/N states loudly, giving him a chastising look, “is to not refer to nature in a derogatory manner. You cannot appreciate its value if you spend all your time despising it. And if you cannot appreciate it, it will refuse to bend to your will, and you will leave here today a talentless fool. As opposed to your usual status, that is.”

“And what would that be?”

“An arrogant fool.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The pardon is not mine to give.” His wife shrugs casually as if she hadn’t just insulted his honor, glimpsing around at all the foliage with a certain fondness seeping into her demeanor. “Sit down and give me your hand. I want to show you something.”

Harry hesitantly obeys Y/N’s request, mumbling useless comebacks about her rudeness and snippy tendencies, lowering himself to her level and extending his hand towards the young witch. He unbuttons the cuff of his black blouse, folding it up to his elbow to ensure no grime stains the fabric. It had been handwoven by France’s most respected seamstress, and he refuses to soil it in the name of this girl’s antics.

Y/N reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers, causing his pulse to hiccup at the unexpected (and oddly intimate) gesture. It’s now that Harry is made of aware of how soft her skin is, and he can’t comprehend how he so rarely ever notices it. He’s been so busy either loathing her, ignoring her existence, or ramming himself in between her legs out of marital duty, he often forgets to take details like this into consideration. He doesn’t know why, but that notion makes his throat ache.

Y/N guides their joined hands downwards and presses their palms to the ground, combing their fingers through the blades of grass as if she were caressing a living, breathing being. She takes a deep inhale, letting it out slowly as her eyes fall shut, repeating the action several times at even intervals. An expression of bliss gradually washes over her features, and both of the hands she has against the grass begin to glow faintly, the color shifting hues like the different shades of flowers hanging from treetops.

The light begins to intensify, ascending up her and Harry’s arms, defusing into their veins and weaving under their skin as if liquid gold was being pumped through their bodies instead of blood. A startled gasp escapes Harry’s throat as a comforting heat erupts across every nerve ending in his flesh, and it feels as if his very soul is being drenched in warm honey, his vision clouding with images of nature that even his wildest imaginations could never conjure.

Exotic animals in places he’s only ever read about, flying across deep blue skies or scurrying beneath luscious greenery. Breath-taking images of waterfalls and crystalline springs in sanctioned areas of the world, thriving in hidden caves and deep in the ocean’s shelf, undisturbed by man. Fleeting pictures of tree roots weaving their way beneath the ground they sit on, braiding together to form a large mass beneath the dirt and crust, connecting miles and miles of forests and land in the way arteries connect in human bodies, and in the way neurons knit together to form a synapse. He sees clips of creatures that existed before man, wandering the planet and forming their own ecosystems, living in perfect harmony amongst one another. He sees decomposing organisms wearing away to ash and particles, returning to where they came from and helping feed future generations, all as part of a cycle so eternal, nothing could ever break it.

Harry has never witnessed anything of this grandeur, and he can feel himself going into shock at the overwhelming input of information surging into his mind.

The sounds of nature around them start to assimilate, almost as if Y/N’s magic is conducting them into an orchestra. The sporadic chirping of insects dwindles to a low hum, and the various melodies sung by flocks of unseen birds melts itself into a single quiet symphony, as if the animals do not want to disturb whatever connection she is establishing with the spirit that inhabits their home.

Harry watches in praiseful astonishment as the young woman before him molds the entire wilderness to her bidding, all of its floral and fauna preening under her influence. It’s as if the forest wants to be under her command; as if it’s eager to appease her, in the way a child wants its mother’s approval, or the way a dog want its owner’s affection.

As Harry looks around at all of the scenery surrounding their small clearing, the hairs along the back of his neck spontaneously bristle, and goosebumps suddenly erupt across every inch of his skin to the point where he almost feels like he’s floating. He doesn’t know how to explain it, but the sensation that floods his whole body is eerie and unsettling in the most inexplicable manner possible. He gets the feeling that he’s being watched— that some ancient, wise, disembodied force is studying him, reading him, and picking him apart cell by cell, learning him from the inside out as if he’s been put under a giant cosmic microscope.

The warlock feels dangerously exposed in the midst of this phenomenon, though whatever this entity is, it doesn’t seem malicious. It seems…curious, alongside calculating and private, as if sharing itself is an honor very few get to experience. It seems like it’s gauging whether he’s worth its time and energy, or if he’s to be ignored and banished from its presence without a second chance. It’s trying to see if he’s worthy of channeling whatever power it holds in its possession.

Y/N suddenly releases his hand, and all of the collective hazy dreams in his head immediately vanish into thin air, leaving him feeling hollow and dazed.

Harry can’t find it in himself to form any comprensible words, much less an understandable reaction, so he just sits there staring at his hand, back hunched as if he’s carrying the weight of the sky, his chest heaving as if he’d just climbed a mountain. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until a tear splashes against his open palm, another following close after, and then a steady stream begins flowing down his flushed cheeks and into the collar of his elegant shirt. He doesn’t sob or scream, because the droplets aren’t a result of pain or anguish. They come from a place of awe and insurmountable joy, his emotions swelling and scattering to the point where the only route to process them is through a physical release.

After a couple of minutes of silent crying and shaky breathing, Y/N speaks up first, her voice distant, echoey, and muddled, as if she’s speaking to him from the top of a water well. “Harry, are you—?”

“Teach me. Please.”

#witchrry

[shirophantomvox]

How Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo would react to their S/O in the hospital

Hi, anon! You are welcome to join my Discord Server if you are a fan of Hxh, Voltron, or both! I promise this is a safe environment! This is an interesting topic for sure! To the other anon(s), I am working on your request! This will contain both fluff and angst. I forgot to include Leorio in this, so I’ll include him in the next HxH post. You’ll have to forgive me, I have 2 more requests in my inbox and I am not feeling the best. I just got my second Covid shot and it is hurting like hell. Nevertheless, I encourage you all to get your shot if you can. I will be on this site one and off and I should be on it for real next week. I have run out of ideas to write and I began to think I was annoying people with my HxH content (no one said this I just assumed). This post has 1974 words. After these requests are finished, I plan on doing a character analysis for Leorio.

Anyway, let’s get into the post!

We’ll start with Hisoka this time.

Hisoka

In all honesty, this man has heard of a hospital (since he sends a lot of people to it after fights) but has never been in one.

The signs, floors, staircase numbers, and elevators all confuse him. He has only been in one once when he was a kid and has never been again.

He isn’t a social butterfly in this setting because this is a professional establishment and not a college party. Asking for directions takes quite a toll on him because of his established pride. You know guys act when they want to find a destination on their own and will go miles out of the way instead of just asking for direction.

He doesn’t talk to anyone; all he wants to do is find you and make sure you are alright.

He is the tallest person in the freight elevator. So tall that everyone at turns to look at him at once for at least 10 seconds and turn back around surprised.

“How tall is he,” one of the nurses ask.

“Tall enough to be my house!”

This annoys him. He takes out the Joker card and lays it against his thigh but realizes he cannot make any hasty decisions. His bloodlust was activated merely out of irritation and not by threat. You were on his mind and destroying these worthless humans wasn’t an option for today.

He approached the guest desk and waited for about 2 minutes before he was acknowledged.

“May I help you,” a smug receptionist asked. Wow, these people do not know who they’re talking to.

“I’m here to see y/n.”

“Y/n is in room 345. Go down the hall and to the right all the way down.”

This man nearly ran with a quickness! His jester shoes somehow made the floor shake as he ran.

You were awake, eating the horrible food the hospital provided and watching TV. It seemed like you were doing ok, but you had just been in a car accident. Your arms and right leg were still sore. It was so bad that you’d be fine with Hisoka carrying you everywhere.

When you two are alone in serious public places, he doesn’t play games or tricks. He is often portrayed as a ruthless man, but in settings like this, he places the jokes and games aside for later. When he enters your room, he is silent for 30 seconds. Much too long. He was shocked; he walked around your hospital bed, pulled up a chair, and stared at your cast. It had many names written on it.

“Yes, I am ok.”

“I apologize for not being there for you,” he began to say.

“Shh… it’s ok. This is life. It hurts like hell, but I’m a trooper!”

Admiring your cast and its multiple fonts of handwriting and messages, he grabbed a sharpie marker, wrote his name, with a heart and spade next to it. Surprisingly, his cursive was very neat and legible.

“I didn’t know you knew how to write in cursive! Why don’t you write me letters?”

“I see you every day and it hurts my hand.”

The doctor wouldn’t be in for another 1 ½ hours, so Hisoka used your thigh as a pillow as he took a nap. He had been up for countless nights thinking about you. He was screwing up so bad, Chrollo let him leave early.

“As soon as your better, we will fight again. I won’t go easy on you. You won’t be in the hospital but you get the jest.”

Illumi

Illumi isn’t the type of man to overreact in these types of situations. When you both agreed to date each other, you knew you all were tough cookies. You were aware of the dangers of dating an assassin and he knew about the dangers of dating a bounty hunter. People hated you both and you targeted.

One night you both were caught in a vulnerable state. While you both enjoyed chocolate milkshakes at a laid-back 1950’s styled diner, two men were previously thrown out for fighting. While your back was turned one of those men shot your arm, causing you to carelessly throw your body to the ground due to impact.

While everyone else was screaming, Illumi jumped to the ground and tied his hair tie around your arm to temporarily stop the bleeding.

“Illu, why does it feel cold in here,” you managed to breathe out.

His heart dropped to his stomach for the first time in history.

“Don’t say things like that!”

Illumi is already horrible at displaying emotions, but all he could do is frown in fear. Once the EMS came barling in, he demanded that he ride with you.

Illumi hadn’t experienced anything like this since Killua had been injured when he fell from a tree.

You and he were separated when you were rushed into surgery leaving him alone in the waiting room.

When Illumi is stressed and cannot properly display how he feels, he tends to act in “odd” ways.

He begins to furiously turn pages in magazines or bother the receptions every 2 minutes about the status of your surgery. When the woman finally says that you’re still alive, he tones it down a little.

Illumi is open to conforming advice from strangers; he has been receiving it secretly from strangers. Since Silva was busy abusing him, he often found comfort from “the streets”.

He has a bad habit of pacing back and forth and fidgeting in his seat while horrific images fill his mind. All he has seen is pain and even though he was used to it, he didn’t want you to go through it as well.

While sitting in his seat (finally!) and head in his lap, doubled over indescribable sorrow, a little girl walks up to him with her hands folded and a doll under her arms. Illumi feels her presence and looks up. The girl’s curly hair covered her endearing eyes and her smile is wide.

“They’ll be alright. I just know they will,” turning around returning to her mother, the girl said with confidence.

On cue, Illumi placed his hand over his heart, smiling just a little.

He walked quickly to your room once you were out of surgery.

His speed walk mimics one of a soldier; his left arm in since with his right leg. His shoes echoed throughout the hall.

As soon as he enters the room, he shuts the door harder than usual and gives you a tight embrace. This surprises you! You’re lucky if he lays his head on your shoulder!

Illumi had been working out lately. He wanted to beat you in the “squish the melon” contest. He is very competitive and even if he lost, that doesn’t hurt his ego. Not in the slightest. Since it was just the both of you alone, he bends down to hug you tight, so tight that your face is squished against his.

This behavior is only surprising because he usually doesn’t coddle you even when you get hurt, but this time he realized that you could have died from the gunshot wound.

After that he kissed your forehead and almost simultaneously the doctor barreled in just missing the sweet moment between you and your beau.

Chrollo

When Chrollo is holding meetings with the Phantom Troupe, he always appears to be neutral. That is very important. A leader has to show strength even through the worst/hurtful times of their lives.

Chrollo had gotten a call from Nobunaga that you had gotten hurt on a mission and had actually gotten captured by the enemy. Phinks was able to get you back but you suffered horrible injuries.

This is protocol; they do this for any of the members. The troupe was oblivious to the fact that you and Chrollo were dating. They thought you were here to replace Uvo.

In situations like this, he is calm on the outside but screaming on the inside. Common sense will tell you if you are startled by the news you’ve just received and you begin to drive, you could cause more harm on the way to your destination.

Chrollo is very silent; he doesn’t call to check on your status or anything; he would rather see it for himself.

You were a trooper! After all, you are dating a dangerous robber.

Chrollo already knew what room you were in so he just went.

“I knew I should have kept y/n by my side. Y/n insisted on doing my dirty work that they almost died! How foolish could I have been?” He constantly cursed himself for letting his guard down with you.

He always gave you room to think and complete your own tasks but he can’t help his protective nature; one he has for the troupe but times 10.

His childhood friends had been shot by law enforcers, his home was horrific, and the last thing he needed was for you to be gone. You were keeping him afloat in society.

When he opened the door, Phinks was sitting in a chair, one leg over the other, laughing at a TikTok video.

Nobunaga on the other hand was watching the world news and seemed invested that he didn’t hear Chrollo enter the room. Once they both saw, they stood to their feet.

“Y/n is ok boss. They suffered a few cuts and burns, but they're breathing.”

Chrollo’s straight face remained as he stared at you.

Chrollo’s silence is something the troupe has internalized as a sign of anger, rage, or both. When he didn’t speak and just stared, everyone knew that their next mission was going to be a brutal one.

Chrollo is a man that isn’t afraid to express how he feels. He could cry right now if he wanted to and no one would dare laugh at him or insult him. After all, Nobunaga cried when he realized Uvo was dead.

Nobunaga and Phinks excused themselves as they saw him place his hand over his mouth.

Once the door closed, He pulled up the chair, grabbed your hand, and gently squeezed it. His warmth woke you up instantly and you turned your head. You winced in pain causing Chrollo to jump from his seat, moving to your right side so you wouldn’t turn your head too much.

“I’m glad you're alive, darling. What were you doing putting yourself in danger? Feitan could have handled the beast!”

He isn’t trying to doubt your ability to fight, he’s just concerned for your safety. Even so, why would he insist that you join the spiders?

A tear dropped from his face as he silently kissed your hand three times. You smiled warmly and placed your right left hand on top of his.

“I am fine, boss. You need not worry. I’m a trooper, remember?”

He placed your hand against his dry cheek and continued to kiss it. You were his lifeline and he wanted to spend every moment with you.

#hisoka morow #hunterxhunter #hunter x 2011 #hunter x hunter #illumi zoldyck #hxh 1999 #hisoka #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #hxh illumi #illumi #hisoka morrow x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter x you #hunter x hunter x y/n #illumi x reader #illumi x y/n #illumi x you #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x oc #chrollo x reader #chrollo x you #hxh headcanons #hxh imagines #hxh chrollo #hxh x reader #hxh 2011 #gon hxh #hxh fanart #y/n

[dearest-kibble]

i rlly rlly rlly love ur writing sm, especially ur zuko writings🥺🥺 is it possible to see what zuko would do if his darling was hurt by someone else?? whether on purpose or accident

Oh boy oh boy oh boy~ I am,,, so ready for Zuko to just get hella angry,,, of course that’s only if you’re wounded on purpose. (Im so sorry this took so long ive been a little swamped with life stuff atm) This also,,, took on its own little like,,, life and stuff so,,, (Haikyuu stuff is getting done,, fist yakuza thing will hopefully be done soon and i have so many ideas for other yakuza!shots.)

So let’s say you’re just minding your own business when someone (They’re an ambassador from the Earth Kingdom)  “accidentally” trips you.

Zuko who’s by your side always by your side Kneels down to check over you so quick you’d think he’d get whiplash. He makes sure to check every single part of you.

It doesn’t even matter where you are - in a corridor - the great hall - in a war meeting - Zuko stops the entire thing if he thinks you might even have a Headache. 

So of course, when you are tripped on purpose by an Earth Kingdom ambassador... Zuko doesn’t take it well at all. 

He coos over you for the normal five minutes, no one daring to twitch a finger. He has servants bring you a pillow and something to eat to put your mind off of it he kisses any bruise you might’ve received and stands back up.

You’re sure the whole of the Caldera can feel the blazing heat emitting off of Zuko as he walks slowly over (his rage is barely contained and you’ve only seen him like this after you tried to run oh spirits are those flames jutting from the bottom of his fists?) and snarls to the Ambassador.

“Do you have an explanation Ambassador” Spirits, you’ve only heard that tone when he was talking to Zhao years ago - back when the most prominent emotion he felt was rage. The mouthful of fruit tart turns too ash as you chew, silk pillow beneath you looses the stuffing inside.

“They were seen with you before you were instated as Fire Lord. Do they support Ozai?” The man speaks with a oily voice. All the easier for Zuko to set aflame

 You’ve learned not to listen when Zuko gets angry. It’ll only upset you. And that’s no good for anyone. You try to focus on anything but the scene before you.

Still - you can’t help but stay at attention when nothing else happens. Your body feels slow with ringing in your ears and heartbeat so loud. 

It feels almost like you're at the theater that Zuko loves so much as you watch the ambassador get backed into a wall in what looks like a rehearsed movement has Zuko done this before?

“Forgive me Fire Lord!” And the man who tripped you begs against a wooden pillar as Zuko stares him down.

Still you cannot move, the ash in your mouth coating your throat.

The mass of red robes starts to move slowly closer to green and brown, small flame in hand. 

The close proximity of flame to the man’s body is what makes you try to move.

You want to move your arms, but they are glued to your body. You want to stand but your legs feel like they’re on fire. You want to shout but ash fills your mouth. 

All there is left to do is shake because you cannot move. 

Zuko looks at you with uneasy eyes and frowning face, the flame is snuffed and his hands drop to his sides. 

“Are you alright my Love?” He drops to his knees by your side, and puts a hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s alright, it’’s okay - breath with me.” He places a stiff hand on his chest and his diaphragm expands with air as he takes and deep breath. “Close your eyes and listen to me breath okay?” It’s such a soft and gentle rasp - voice only meant for you. “I’ll get to this tomorrow,” Zuko speaks much louder, for the rest of his entourage. “I’ll see you later Ambassador” It’s not a cleverly concealed threat but neither of you think to appease him. 

All but a few servants trickle from the hall.

“We’ll stay here unless you’d like to go somewhere else okay?” It’s barely a whisper.

“Okay Zuko.” It barely comes from your throat. 

Zuko pulls you from the unstuffed pillow and onto his lap, his chest rising and falling against your back now and his hand rests on yours.

“Let your stomach fill my Love, pretend you're pregnant” Both of you immediately pause. Zuko’s strong breaths into his stomach become much more shallow and come much quicker as he realizes what he’s said.

“W-wait- no,” He flounders over words for a second, sputtering little pieces of words before deciding on, “Only if you want to?” His breathing steadies very quickly as he rubs circles on the fabric covering your belly. “Because I do.” 

You want to say something very very bold. 

“It’s alright if you don’t want to - it’s just,” But you know it isn’t alright. “I want to make sure everyone knows I love you.” 

The grey taste of ash still lingers on your tongue. Before you speak you swallow twice. Even that doesn’t get rid of the weight that keeps your lips from parting.

“Only if you..” He buries his face into the back of your hair and his nose hits your scalp. “If you stop getting so angry at anyone who accidentally hurts me.”

“That man did it on purpose. He admitted to it!” Zuko’s growl reverberates through your skin and you stiffen quickly at the display of anger. 

“It was justified Zuko-” Something snatches your voice and pulls it into the back of your throat. You turn on his lap slowly to face him and push your face into his collarbone. “They’re worried about you. What if I was an assassin?”

“You wouldn’t kill me.” He pets your hair with one hand. “You love me and I love you.” 

You just wish it wasn't so one sided.

#yandere zuko #yandere zuko x reader #yandere fiction #yandere x reader #prince zuko #Zuko x reader #atla zuko #Zuko #yandere atla #yandere atla x reader #Zuko ATLA #atla x reader #Zuko atla x reader

[vidalinav]

Letting Things Get too Far: (One-shot) *Contains ACOSF spoilers

This is not the fic I was going to post and I am on the fence now about posting “Love is Bright Red, Hope is Dark Blue.” I might still do it, but I don’t know, because I don’t want the six chapters to influence my perception, but OMG I am so mad. I have to laugh because I’ve never been this mad before. And I know eventually it will be okay with the rest of the book, but I cannot deal NOW with what we’ve got. I will not be unbiased, no reader in the world is unbiased when they love a book, but oooo this is a little too much. Like if you’re not deeply enraged are you even a fan? Lol

The only way I deal with emotions is writing because I get really obsessive and I cannot stop thinking about something until I change my mind about it, so I wrote a fic based on those chapters to change my mind. 

So Please don’t read this fic if you haven’t read the 5.5 chapters that were released (legally) to the world yesterday. I do have to say that I wrote this based on Italian translation and not of the one that was translated by someone here in English. But the general concept it the same. 

Summary: Nesta gets threatening (some time after she’s “healed”) 

~

Nesta could tell they were watching her. She supposed it must have seemed off to them that she was sitting in the dining room, reading a newspaper, a toast with jam and cup of tea to the side of her. Too casual, they must have thought. So very much unlike the Nesta they knew.

But one by one they sat—to the side of her of course since she’d chosen the head of the table. Nesta knew of only one other person who would dare sit across from her. She smirked behind the letters, the paper smelling of ink.

First Elain, sweet Elain with her soft, cautious good morning.

Then Feyre with her ruffled hair, matted and imperfect. Nothing like the High Lady she was supposed to be. How embarrassing, she thought, that Feyre had not yet learned that queens were to be perfect in every instance. Every circumstance.

Mor yawned loudly, stretching her arms above her head. The billowy blonde looked to Feyre as Nesta sipped a bit of tea. Green with a slice of lemon.

Amren was shushed as she came barreling in. Loudly and grumpy. Tired, perhaps, from her days going over the law books of Velaris code.

Rhysand kissed the apple of Feyre’s cheek, her little sister’s skin turning red. A honeyed gesture that made the rest gag mockingly for the way Rhys then bit down on the soft flesh and playfully pulled. He indeed sat where she thought he was going to—the only seat left closest to Feyre. His brows furrowed when he noticed her across from him, but Nesta didn’t give him the light of day.

The game had not begun.

Nesta waited for the missing player, ruffling the newspaper, the sound harsh in this room where all remained quiet. As if they were waiting for something.

Waiting for someone.

Azriel walked in, sitting to the side of her. He peered up at her. Wary and assessing. What are you up to?

She blinked at him surprised, not at all expecting that he’d be here for this—that he’d come down from the House of Wind to grace them with his presence. No matter. This talk wasn’t particularly for him, but she supposed he’d learn something too. As they all could.

The last one of them arrived with a flourish down the stairs. Bright and loud, stomping on the wood as if soldiers had been set loose in this house and not merely one male who made her smile sweetly despite herself.

He kissed her on the lips, a small peck. Something new for the others to witness. They looked at each other, mirth in their eyes—shock. But not from her happiness, Nesta thought, from their triumph. This broken girl who’d been mended when her heart was full.

“Sit down,” Nesta commanded softly, pointing her chin to the seat beside her—across from Azriel. She watched him look towards his brother, but Azriel merely shrugged.

“You waited for me?” Cassian laughed, the sound off even to her. His eyes squinting with concern… or was that vigilance she saw?

Oh, how dangerous he must know her to be to look at her like that.

Nesta smiled, her eyes softening. “I’d always for wait for you.”

Cassian lips set into a fine line at the sickly-sweet tone.

“In fact, I couldn’t have done this without you,” she gestured to the room, shrugging at the last moment. A strained laugh on her voice, “Or so they’ll say.”

Nesta set her newspaper down. The paper rumbling. Distantly she could hear the yells of soldiers, the clash of swords calling to her in her memory.

But none of that noise was here. No one said a gods-damned thing.

She sighed, sitting back in her chair, surveying them all. She could scent their fear, but Nesta didn’t know who it was coming from as she looked to food in the center. Vibrant jellies, eggs, and bacon. Much more food than any she’d consumed in her months away. She’d been reduced to plain porridge.

“Just say what you need to say, girl,” Amren said, gripping the table with her hands. Small and powerless.

Not as powerful as her anyway.

“You’re right of course, dear friend. I should get on with it as any other.”

Nesta lilted her head in a nod. “Consider this meeting long overdue. It was my fault really, for having been in such a low place. I suppose being constantly faced with death and brutality is a regular occurrence to the fae.”

She shrugged a nonchalant shoulder, huffing a laugh as Cassian’s gaze went to the skin of her collarbone from where her robe had slipped off from her shoulder. “Or so I’ve been endearingly reminded of for the past four months… It was my bad of course for letting things get too far.”

Nesta leaned forward, laying her head delicately on her hand. “Isn’t that what you said Feyre? I want to get the exact words right.”

But Feyre didn’t speak only stared at her with those blue eyes so much like hers but so different. They were made from different parts she supposed—different parts of their mother. Feyre got the stomach, and Nesta got her cold, melodic heart.

Queen indeed.

“Letting things get too far?” Nesta laughed, the sound loud even to her own ears. “Yes, I suppose that was true… But you know, this amazing thing happened when I was forced to follow this routine of yours. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Over and over until I thought the monotony might kill me itself.”

Nesta smiled brightly to all of them, her eyes rolling over their gazes. Elain didn’t dare look at her. Nesta was not in the mood to comfort. What were older sisters for but to lead by example?

“If the magic and the trauma didn’t do it first,” she added.

 She lowered her voice as if she were about to tell a story, engaging her audience until all they could do was listen.

“And then—like a miracle—Cassian was called to Vallahan and I went with him. Screw the rules, he said…” Nesta patted him in the shoulder. A good little soldier. “So easy for you to say that when the rules were not made for you.”

“You know what I discovered?” She sang.

Nesta waited for an answer, but no one would meet her gaze.

She looked to the one who knew so much about the outside world. The one who could never leave the one inside her head. “What did I discover Mor?”

Mor took a sip of her mimosa, cringing as she swallowed. “People fear you.”

“People fear me,” Nesta said, proudly.

She laughed, shaking her head at these beings in pajamas who thought so highly of themselves.

She lifted a shoulder, “for good reason of course. I certainly convinced the council of Vallahan. I always knew I had this power, but to wield it—to not let it control me but to be controlled—Glorious.”

“And you know what I learned in those two weeks?” Nesta lowered her voice, the words slipping out of her in a sneer. “That I have more power in my little pinky then you have in your entire body. All of you.”

She flipped her hair back, where a stray piece had fallen forward, “I got your little treaty signed of course. That was simple. You’d be surprised how easy it is for people to give up their will when they are pissing their pants. But no matter, all’s fair right?”

“Why are you tell us this?” Rhys asked. “What do you want?”

Her eyes went to his, those violent storms of subdued rage.

Tell me again to sit like a dog High Lord, she whispered into his mind. Rhys sat straight up, Feyre grasping his arm.

Nesta simply picked up her newspaper once more. The image in the center showing a great depiction of Velaris’s royal family.

“You ever make a decision on my behalf again,” her voice turning to soft silk. As sweet as a poison apple, “I will burn this city to the ground.”

Nesta tilted her head up, noting the marbled leaves engrained in the ceiling. The opulence. The fraudulent comfort of a house too large for two.

“I think I’ll start with this estate.”

She tutted. “Paints are usually flammable, aren’t they Feyre?”

She watched her sister swallow, the light of Rhysand’s eyes dimming to a darkness she thought might engulf them all.

Nesta could smell his fear…

She lifted the cup to her lips, “Understood?”

“Duly noted.”

The rest mumbled their assent.

And Nesta turned to the toast at her side, already spread with apricot jam. She picked up the bread and set it on Cassian’s plate. “I quite like these jams. We should get some before we go.”

“Too much sugar,” he replied slowly, as if he was getting used to the switch from her being threatening to caring. “You eat this, and you’ll be tired within the hour.”

Nesta pouted in response, wrinkling her nose, “You know, you really need to lighten up. Maybe you’ve gotten harsher in your old age.”

Cassian gave her a hard look.

“I mean, you’re in your 500s. You can barely keep up with the times,” She teased. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t keep up… in other areas.”

Cassian scoffed, lifting his lips in an outrageous laugh.

“Wait” Feyre called, holding her hands up in surrender. Nesta turned to her, lifting a curious brow. Her little sister blinked back, unsure if Nesta still wanted to destroy their home.

She would never destroy her little sister’s home...

But then Nesta thought of her shabby apartment laying in rubbles, ready to be rebuilt.

Oh, right.

“Will you continue to be our emissary?”

That was a question Nesta was not expecting…

“Oh, I don’t know,” She flourished. “I suppose we’ll see how it goes.”

She shrugged dramatically, “You follow these rules… and after a couple of months, I’ll re-assess your behavior. We can revisit me working with you all after some time has passed.”

“I don’t see how you’re allowed to do whatever you please, just by being threatening,” Amren noted.

Nesta smiled at the hypocrisy.

“Subsection B, Line 84 says I can,” Nesta sang, “As long as were making up rules.”

~

I’m laughing as I type this. This book is about to be a cathartic experience. It actually did make me feel better to write this. 

I wish someone would release an epub already. Like fuck this shit, we’ve bought three versions, two versions, one versions, multiple versions. There’s only a week left. It hardly matters, release the PDF! The book was supposed to be out last month anyway. I’m not into self-righteousness right now, like the release of books is mostly about money. Sara has earned her part. I’m sure she’s happy. These are the people who hardly cared about promoting it at all. I think they threw this book out the window a long time ago and you know what they saved money on promotions too. They’ll be fine. 

I’m clearly displacing my anger... But I cant handle this anymore... But I cant stay away. 

#nessian #acosf spoilers #acosf #nesta archeron #cassian

[a-game-of-stars-and-ink]

Ashes to Ashes - Chapter 6

Warnings: Fever, Fear, Gunshot wound, Betrayal, Angst, Broken nose.

Tag List: @shydragonrider, @equestrianwritingsstuff, @teheranb, @whumpwillow, @brutal-nemesis, @fiestaladybug. and @sunflower1000. And @the-three-whumpeteers

And extra shoutout to @whumpwillow, whose kiss idea I totally stole ;)

Zion knew that it was common for fevers to spike at night. 

But she still felt awful for Jackson, who was muttering incoherently, and shivering. Zion sighed, and scooted closer to him, hesitating only briefly, before she carefully drew him into a hug, letting him shiver against her.

“Mmm?” His striking eyes fluttered open. “What…?”

“Ssshhhh. Just go back to sleep.” Zion murmured. He relaxed, nuzzling his face into her shoulder.

She thought back to that night on the train. He hadn’t wanted the train guards to see his face, so he’d pushed her against the wall, holding her wrists, and then kissed her.

And damn it if it wasn’t the first kiss that made something awaken inside of her. 

Why do you have to be an assassin? She remembered wondering. Why couldn’t you have been a classmate? And why did you have to be so damn handsome?

At first, she’d convinced herself that it was just her nerves. She hated him, of course she did.

But then he’d collapsed onto her floor, half-dead because of the wound she’d inflicted, she’d known that she couldn’t turn her back.

And now, she was alone with the thoughts she could no longer ignore. Not when she was literally cuddling him.

But despite her racing mind, she was tired, and comfortable, and it didn’t take long for sleep to draw her into its embrace.

It was four in the morning that Steve poked his head in to check on Zion and the assassin… mostly Zion though.

What he saw made his stomach twist. She wasn’t just sleeping on the bed, but right next to Ryler, her arms wrapped around his torso.

It reminded him, and the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, of a dragon guarding her favorite treasure.

You tried to kill her. All I ever did was care about her. So why does she care so much about you? What’s special about you?

Steve scowled, deciding that he did not particularly care.

But somehow, I’ll make you pay for taking her away like this. You bastard.

But he knew that he couldn’t. It would only serve to push Zion further away. 

What did I do wrong? Why wasn’t I good enough, but this prick is?

With that, Steve closed the door, and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge.

I will make you pay for this. He thought furiously.

Jackson woke up drenched in sweat, his heart pounding. At first, the stress of the nightmare still clung to him, until he realized where he was.

And who was with him.

Zion was leaning back against the headboard, eating ice cream straight out of the container.

“Zion, that is not a healthy breakfast choice.” Her brother said, poking his head in.

“I’m sorry, I asked for your opinion when?” The girl asked, raising an eyebrow. Chris laughed, shaking his head.

“This is why you got in trouble so much at home. Your sass.”

“And dad’s not here to scold me. So you just have to put up with it.” Zion replied, tossing her hair.

“What if I decide to scold you?” 

“You’re not dad. Or mother. I won’t listen to you.” 

Jackson snorted at the snarkiness.

“Oh. You’re awake. Was it my fabulous comebacks, or my brother’s donkey laugh that woke you?”

“Neither.” Jackson replied, as Chris spluttered in the background.

“Donkey laugh? Well, you-you laugh like a hyena.”

“I know. And I am proud of my cackle.” Zion replied.

“I can’t win with this girl. She sasses me at every turn.”

Despite feeling miserable, Jackson smirked. The spitfire attitude was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place.

“Right, well, I’m going out to shovel your driveway.” Chris told her. Zion grinned.

“Thank you.” She said in a sing-song voice, as she got to her feet. “I’m stashing my ice cream back in it’s hiding spot.” She announced, and followed her brother downstairs.

Jackson sat in the silence for a moment, until Steve strode into the room.

“I’ve called the police. You have fifteen minutes if you want to run.” He said, and Jackson’s blood ran cold. The other man seemed to notice his alarm, and smirked. “Did you really think I’d let you take her away from me?”

“She’s not yours.” Jackson growled, or rather, tried to growl, his voice was hoarse and shaky. “You don’t own her.”

“No. But I love her, you took her away, and-”

“And I fucking trusted you.” Zion’s voice snarled. Steve’s eyes widened in horror, he turned to face her.

“Zion-”

“But isn’t that what they say? Betrayal never comes from an enemy.”

“It’s for your own good.”

“Oh, go blow yourself.” She snarled, stalking past him. She offered Jackson her hand.

“Come on…”

“What are you doing?” Steve asked.

“Running away.”

“Zion, you can’t-”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I can and cannot do. Don’t even say my name.” She spat.

Steve reached out to grab her arm, and Jackson saw rage flare in those silvery-blue eyes. Zion yanked her arm free, spinning around, and ramming her fist into Steve’s nose.

There was a satisfying crunch as the cartilage gave beneath the impact.

“If you ever touch me again, I will break your fingers.” Zion barked. She grabbed a duffel bag from the closet, and began to hurriedly pack. 

Zion stormed into the room her brother stayed in when he visited, and began packing several pairs of his clothes and sleep wear.

Steve followed her, still trying to explain. Or apologize. His voice was now nasal, his broken nose apparent.

Finally, she went back to Jackson, and grabbed the Glock from where she kept it, in her drawer.

Then, she helped the assassin to his feet.

She carefully guided him down the stairs, grabbing her coat, and Steve’s, and heading outside.

Chris looked up, confusion written all over his face.

“Zion, what’s going on?”

“Steve called the cops.” She said, and her brother cursed. 

“Where will you go?” He asked.

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out.”

Chris stepped forward, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I stole some of your clothes by the way.” Zion admitted, as she helped Jackson into her jeep. She noticed with a smug smile that Steve’s motorcycle was still attached to the rack. And its spare keys were in her glove compartment.

My motorcycle technically. He didn’t want his mom to know, so he bought it, but I agreed to put it under my name.

A favor to a friend. Her mouth tasted bitter.

“I’ll see you soon.” She told Chris. I hope. Her mind added.

“Yeah. Take care, Zion.”

She climbed into the car, and turned the ignition key. The slight flurries were supposed to get worse, meaning driving conditions were less than ideal… But then, she had no choice.

She pulled out onto the road, glancing over at Jackson.

“My mom has a cottage. Well, more of a cabin. We can stay there for a while.” 

“You’re shaking.” Jackson said, concern edging his voice, even though he was clearly in much worse condition.

“I’m scared. It’s my first time running from the police.”

“You didn’t have to…”

“Yeah. I did.” She told him. “There’s a blanket in the back seat. Can you reach it? If not, I can pull over.”

“I can reach it.” The assassin said. It clearly caused him pain to twist around, but he grabbed it, pulling it up to the front as he slumped back into his seat.

“Just wrap it around yourself.” Zion said, turning the heat on.

Oh God. We’re fugitives now. Both of us.

#Ashes to Ashes #Jackson and Zion #fever #gunshot wound #infection #angst #betrayal #broken nose #assassin whumpee #villain whumpee #hero caretaker #female caretaker #male whumpee

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 IX

Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers (this chapter, noncon, trauma)

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You receive an unexpected visitor as the king behaves unexpectedly.

Note: Yay, another chapter!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Gilla left as the windows began to dim and a cool breeze washed over you. You remained as you had been, on your side, arms crossed, filled with rage but dragged down under a blanket of fatigue. But sleep wouldn’t cum and closing your eyes only made your head pound. 

So you stared at the canopy that hung from the corner of the bed as Loki’s words echoed in your head. You might be angry with Gilla, you might never forgive her, but could you let her be punished by the merciless king and his cronies? You couldn’t deny that it was nice to have company other than the king but you couldn’t help but think of that day. If you hadn’t followed her, if you had just left her behind… would she be in your place? Would she be worse off?

It didn’t matter. You were the one thrown in the dungeons and whipped. You were the one wrenched out of them and tormented by the king’s depravity. And you were the one laying in the early evening shade wishing none of it had happened.

You heard the door to the receiving chamber and you sat up. You sat at the edge of the bed and stretched out the cramps in your arms and sides. The white silk around your body sent a shiver up your spine and you looked over as a shadow appeared in your peripheral. You ignored it as you stood and closed the window.

“The autumn has come,” Loki said as the window snapped shut. “Even the leaves begin to turn.”

You ignored him and kept your back to him as you peered through the mosaiced glass. His footsteps moved lightly along the floor as you sensed him pacing behind you.

“I am still your king. You cannot ignore me thus.” He demanded.

“Your majesty.” You said firmly and swept away from the window to sit on the bench.

He sighed and took your place by the window. He leaned against the sill as he watched you and you stared at the floor. 

“What is the matter?” He asked.

You looked at him sharply and clenched your jaw. If you said all that you thought, he might just toss you to the dungeons again. Was it truly worse than here?

“Nothing, your majesty, merely awaiting your orders.” You said blithely.

His forehead wrinkled and he tapped his heel on the floor. He played with the front of his jacket and pushed his hair behind his shoulders.

“Do you know how long you were… disposed?” He asked.

“Does it matter?” You shrugged.

He watched you, his eyes strayed to the front of the white sleeping gown; it did little to hide your figure. You resisted the chill that crept through you and tilted your head.

“More than a week. Close to two.” He answered his own question. “I had my physician feed you and see that you were sustained. You did not sleep for all of it but when you were awake… well, do you recall any of it?”

You swallowed and shook your head. “So why did you not rid yourself of me then? Barely any use to be had.”

He wiggled his long fingers and pushed himself from the sill. He neared and stood before you. He looked down his long nose and you refused to look back.

“I did think of it, I cannot lie, but I spent too much time upon your training, little mouse.”

“Training?” Your eyes flicked up in disgust.

“Perhaps I might not harness your mind but your body does respond to me,” he bent and grinned as he brought his finger up under your chin, “But I might have left you overwrought. Birger did recommend I allow you some rest.”

He dragged his thumb over your lip and you recoiled. He snickered and stood straight. He backed away and strode around the chamber.

“There is a proper meal on the table. You must eat if you are to recover your strength,” he let out a long breath as he neared the door, “And for this night at least, I shall restrain myself from you.”

You sneered at him. “Am I to thank you for that? When you put me in such a state? Oh, what pious abstinence you have, my king.”

He laughed again and his tongue slid over his lip. “My king…” he mulled, “I do prefer that, little mouse.” He curled a finger towards himself, “Come. Eat. And do try not to look at me so, it riles me.”

You tore your eyes away from him and did not move. You listened to his movement and there was a gentle rustle. He neared again and a rush of air swept around you and a swath of dark fabric settled over you. Loki encased you in the black robe he often wore. He braced your arms through the cloth and pulled you to your feet.

“Be angry with me.” He chided, “It assures me that you are well.”

He turned and tugged on your wrist as he drew you with him. You were too weak to resist and in that instant, the king was being more malleable than you’d known him. So you let him and prayed he was not upon another trick. A night without his touch would be the closest to content you could hope for.

🐍

Loki slept beside you but kept away from you. You were surprised and wary of his distance but he did nothing but snore softly and twitch now and then. When he woke, he called Hal to ready him for his day, and left you as you were. His calm had you unsettled. He had a sinister patience and you knew, it would not hold out.

You rolled out of bed shortly after. The wardrobe was unlocked and you dressed in a green gown and block stockings along with a pair of beaded slippers. You ate the bread, cheese, and grapes waiting for you in the receiving chamber and sat with your thoughts before your empty plate. Your stomach was painfully thankful for the meal.

You watched noon rise through the window. The sun beamed at its apse as the scent of fall whisked in. How long had you been in the royal abode? More than a month? Maybe two? You couldn’t remember. The blur of days one into the next unsettled you. Would the rest of your life pass in the same despondence?

You were disturbed only by the noise of armor outside the door. You shuddered as you thought of Magnus and the last words he’d said to you. Loki had distracted you from the villain on the other side of the wall. What would keep him from intruding in the king’s absence and seeing through his promises?

The muffled timbre of his voice gave you pause as you began to pace. You heard boots on the stone as he was met by another. You recognized the tones but could not place them exactly. You wrung your hands as you faced the door and listened.

“The king is away,” Magnus huffed. “He is not expecting you, your highness.”

“I have seen to it that he isn’t,” the other returned. From his title, you could guess it was the king’s brother but for what reason he would come to the capital, you could not surmise. “Is the girl within?”

“The girl?” Magnus repeated.

“Do not act dumb with me, you brute,” Thor snapped, “You know of whom I speak.”

“She is but she is to receive no company but that permitted by the king.” Magnus declared.

“I am still a prince, I shall permit myself,” Thor rebuffed and the door jolted suddenly as the handle turned. The guard growled as the prince forced his way into the chamber and you retreated behind the sofa. “Ah, there you are.”

“Your highness,” you eked out as you looked around. “The king--”

“The king is at council, I know. I have come to surprise him.” Thor boomed. “And you, sweet maiden.” He approached the other side of the couch. “I see he keeps you well,” he peered down at your gown, “But I think red might suit you better.”

“There is wine in the cabinet,” you offered, uncertain what else to say.

“Perhaps later,” he said, “Why do you shy away? Do I scare you, my lady? I promise I am no villain.”

You shook your head, unable to find your voice. He chortled and rounded the sofa. You stumbled back and caught yourself on the straight back of the couch.

“I have been astride for much of the last days, perhaps you might accompany me on a walk of the gardens? I would do well to stretch my legs.” He stopped before you.

“I cannot-- Lo-- The king--”

“You let me attend to my brother. I handle him better than any.” He held out his hand. “Come, lady. As the seasons change, you would be remiss to remain pent up.”

“I don’t--” You began.

“Whatever displeasure he finds in it shall be my burden, not yours,” he insisted, “But if you should go against a prince, he will find his own recompense.”

It was a threat. A subtle one. The brothers, as dissimilar as they appeared, were more alike than any could know. You did not dare to test his words.

“I would not go against you, your highness,” you took his hand meekly, “Is it very cold outside?”

“A cloak might do you well,” he eyed the length of silk around your hips as he untied his cap with his other hand, “You might borrow mine.”

“Thank you, your highness, but I--”

“Let us be off,” he draped the red cloak over your shoulders and dropped your hand to tie it beneath your throat. “It has been a time since I was in the capital.”

He took your hand again and pulled you to the open door. Your eyes met Magnus’ as you were guided out into the corridor. He turned to face the prince.

“I should go,” Magnus said, “The king has charged me with her safety.”

“You needn’t trouble yourself,” Thor smirked, “I shall be there. She needn’t anymore protection than my own.”

“The king--”

“I will not remind you of my title again. If you are so concerned with your master, dog, why don’t you go find him?” Thor snarled.

He brushed past the guard who scowled at the dismissive gesture and led you down the corridor. You were off-balance as he tugged you along and you struggled to keep up with his long steps. The stairs proved near treacherous as your nerves had you unsteady. The stone passed you by as your thoughts raced.

As you came out in the sunlight, the prince’s hand went to the small of your back and his gait slowed. He drew you closer as he led you around the façade. The tall hedges stood at the other end of the yard and the song of birds mingled with the vines that grew over the walls of the palace.

“I was rather disappointed that my brother cut our introduction so short,” he said at last, “And he was so quick to be away I thought to come visit him instead.”

“Oh,” you watched your skirts move around your legs as you walked.

“I do love my brother, even if he does not think so.” He neared the maze of greenery and inhaled the scent of pollen and dirt. “He can be so… detached. And I was almost insulted to think he would hide anything from me. Especially a creature such as yourself. It is as if he does not trust me.” He shook his head and looked down glumly. “Why, he would not have the throne if I had not abdicated. Not that I’d want it back. He is better made for that than I.”

You said nothing. There was nothing you could say. You were a peasant and a whore. Your grasp of politics was sparse if not comical to those born to it.

“Tell me, lady, where did my brother find you? I never saw you at court before.”

You looked away and examined the bushes. You felt thin as air, ready to dissipate into nothing.

“I am not of the court, your highness.” You confessed.

“Oh? A servant then? Gods knows my father did have a taste for them as well.”

“I am-- was a crafter. I worked in my uncle’s shop.” You replied. 

“Ah…” The prince thought, “And he was a patron to your uncle’s business.”

“Well… no. We worked with clay and wood more than silver or gold. He--” You blinked. How could you say it? Should you?

“You needn’t be shy with me, lady. I am only curious about my brother’s pet.” He mused and you frowned. “Oh, I see, you do not like that. Well, what should I call you? What are you to him?”

You stopped short and he turned to face you as his arm slipped from behind you. “You might guess at it but I don’t think it needs to be said.”

He chuckled and puffed his chest. “I see.” He squinted, “He always did like a woman with a will. And to think a peasant might dare to act as her own… My brother is not so complicated as he pretends.”

“Your brother will be upset you broke into his chambers, I think.”

“And as perturbed that you did go with me, my insistence be damned.” He grinned. “I am not your enemy so do not make me one.”

You averted your eyes and carried on as he turned to walk beside you once more. You were quiet, pensive. You recalled the tournament and how you had sneaked out; it was the last you had been out on your own feet. You followed the prince as he knew the labyrinth well and your gaze strayed to the thorny roses as you reached the centre.

“Sit,” he guided you to a stone bench, “I wouldn’t think Loki allows you much time without his chambers. If you were mine, I wouldn’t either.” He winked and pivoted on his heel, “Perhaps when I am here, I might find a lamb of my own.”

You watched his broad shoulders as he fingered the petals of a rose.

“I love my wife but she nears motherhood and thinks more of the child than her own husband. She isn’t of the condition to tend to my affections,” he mourned. “But a man has needs and if a wife cannot serve her husband, he musts seek them elsewhere.”

You shifted on the bench as he continued along the brush. “My brother is wise. When he finds a wife, he can retain you still. You see wives are not so… daring.”

“Surely not,” you muttered. “Are there not whores in your city?”

“Whore-- do not be so crude,” he reproached. “But I’ve not yet found any I should like as a mistress.”

You nodded as you watched his back. He continued around the border of the small square at the centre of the maze. You gripped the edge of the bench. You bent as if to stand and he didn’t seem to notice. Your heart began to patter as you stood. As the thought dared to flit through your mind.

When would you ever see the outside of the palace again? When had you so long away from the king? When had a chance ever shone so brightly before you? Why, you had been arrested upon your intrusion so how difficult should it be to reverse your trespass?

You stepped slowly along the bench. Thor bent and plucked a rich red bloom. He stood and turned to face you.

“Do you dare try it?” He wondered. “Do you think you might get far?”

Your eyes flashed and you froze. He smiled and held up the rose to his nose.

“Go on and lose yourself in these hedges. I will wait an hour before I report back your flight.” He snickered. “More than enough time.”

“What-- Why?” You sputtered.

“Because it is what you want. Because my brother did lie to me. Because I enjoy his temper.” He came closer and flicked away the rose. “Because I have been bored for months.”

“No, no. We should go back.” You deflated. “If I run…”

“He will be most unhappy. And to think what he should do to you.” He tutted. “But if you don’t run,” he pushed his cape back on your shoulders and cupped your tits. “To think what I should do.”

You shoved his hands away and fell back on the bench. You caught yourself and spun so that you came up on the other side of it. He bent and placed his hands flat on the stone. “So, my dear, do you think you might evade me for long enough? If you do, do you think you might elude my brother too?”

You blanched and your skirts caught on the bushes as you backed away.

“Oh, but let’s be fair. I shall count one hundred seconds before I seek you out.” He raised his hands and covered his eyes coyly. “Better be quick, my lady.”

You peered around in disbelief. He couldn’t be serious and yet he began to count aloud and your blood turned cold in your veins. You trembled and turned on your heel. You rushed to the other side of the square and lunged into the winding pathway. If you could retrace your steps, you might escape and tell Loki what his brother did. But the king might not believe you; surely he wouldn’t and you would be the one to atone for Thor’s lust. Though if you could escape them both…

You raced blindly along the hedges as Thor’s count faded, though it floated on the air still. When it stopped, your chest clenched. You were lost. You’d tried to recall all the way you’d come but it had all been scrambled by the adrenaline pulsing through you. You stopped and hissed as your lungs burned. You clawed at the laces along your throat and threw the cape over the hedge. You continued back and turned along another path.

You heard steps on the other side of the hedge. You stopped and listened as you walked slowly along the dirt. You heard a laugh and you got down on the ground. You slid beneath the bush, more so, into it, as the leaves pricked your skin and tickled you. You tugged your skirts after you as your ears burned at the noise of the prince’s pursuit.

“Oh ho, my lady, I know you are close.” He stomped along the next hedgeway, “A clever trick but you forget who I was raised with.” 

His boots came into view as you stilled in the bushes. You hoped the green silk helped hid you amid the leaves and dying buds. He stopped and knelt for a moment. “But which way did you go? I shall sniff you out, little lamb.”

You covered your mouth as ripples of fear swallowed you up. You squeezed your eyes shut as he continued his taunting. At last, he stood and turned back the way he’d come. “I hear you…” he called ahead of him as he rushed on, “Gods, I will have you!”

You let out a breath as his voice trailed away. You didn’t dare move in fear that he might come back. Though Thor did not share the same reputation as his brother, you suspected he was just as bad.

🐍

The sun had shifted to the west when you finally emerged from the leaves. The sky continued to darken as you wove through the walkways. You stopped only when you heard the clink of armor and the call to assemble. The guards had been searching for more than an hour by then. You kept close to the bushes and sank back in as you avoided the marching sentries.

You came out near the outer walls of the palace grounds. You caught your breath against the stone and ducked down along the brush. It wasn’t far from here that you’d been caught that fateful night. As you watched Gilla climb to freedom and you were dragged back down to your oblivion. 

You could see the moon as the sun began to set. It was a sliver of hope. The search carried on as you kept to the shadows and the statues. Several times, you’d nearly been caught. Each, you were certain you would. Once, you tried to start a scale of the wall but had been scared back down by the voices below.

You crept around to the gates and watched from behind the plinth of a tall statue of an ancient king. You watched from your vantage as the guards stopped each person and each cart to inspect. You might be able to sneak under the axle of one. Might.

The longer you stayed on royal grounds, the more likely you’d be found out. You couldn’t go back now and feign being lost. You couldn’t blame Thor when he’d surely already expounded a tail of your deception. You had to get out.

You stayed low as you watched the soldiers search a cart and as they moved to the other side, you approached the large wheel. You heard a thump and shout. The wheel jerked and you barely avoided being crushed as you crawled beneath the cart and hooked your arms and legs into the axel. Your skirts swept the dirt beneath you as you were rattled along.

Clear of the gates, you slowly let yourself down and laid flat until the cart passed over you completely. Stunned, you opened your eyes and felt your body, making certain you hadn’t been mangled without realising it. You sat up and peered around. The city beckoned to you. Welcome home! 

If you could hide in the alleys, you could find a way out. You might even get to the next village before any knew it and from there, you’d be lost to the wind.

You took a step forward and were suddenly jolted back as an arm wrapped around your waist. The heavy mail was cold through the thin fabric of your dress and you were slammed against the wall as a shadow scowled down at you. His heavy breaths seared you in the cool night air.

You squirmed as the gauntlet stretched across your throat and you picked at it helplessly. Your slippers slid in the dirt as you beat at the angry wraith that held you. He leaned in and inhaled so that it tickled your cheek.

“Sneaky little bitch,” Magnus growled.

“Let me go!” You tried to bend his finger back. “Get off!”

He scoffed and tore you from against the wall. He turned you and gripped the back of your neck as he marched you away from the palace and down the road. He kicked your feet as you dug your heels in and thrust your forward. You realised, he wasn’t taking you back.

“Wait, where are you taking me?” You struggled as you latched onto his wrist and he squeezed until you winced. “You monster, get--”

“I’ll kick your fucking teeth in,” he snarled, “Now shut up, whore.”

“You can’t--”

“I can do whatever I want. The king’s charged me to find you. He’s angry enough, imagine how much worse it’ll be when I return empty-handed…” He sneered, “Imagine how the days will feed his temper. To think what he will do when you are eventually discovered.”

“What-- You--”

“If I have to tell you again, I’ll do worse than he ever did,” Magnus twisted your arm back and forced you ahead of him. “Not that I won’t try anyway.”

You whined as it felt as if your arm would snap. He kept on as he steered you towards the dark streets of the city and into a long alleyway.

“It’ll be a pity if his whore should turn up dead,” he snorted, “Pity either way for you.”

#by the king's hand #loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #king!loki #medieva AU #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #medieval #mcu #marvel #thor #series

[besamehyuka]

Yandere BTS: When You Break Up With Them.

Namjoon:

Namjoon’s eyes scanned you as your face swelled with anger and frustration, you hated when he was like this. You could never have any friends without him being clingy or threatening. “That is it!” You yelled, your eyes focused on him. “We are done. I never want to see you again!” You yelled, walking out of the front door and out into the city streets.

Namjoon wasn’t going to let you go, not at all. As soon as you walked out, your punishment had been made. He would make you beg and cry harder than you ever have in your life. He was the only thing you could look at. 

Since, he was smart, he would make it seem like all an accident. He would make it seem like you were at school, when a sudden tragedy happened, and he would never be framed or caught. 

You were in big trouble now. 

“Did you think walking out on me was an option?” He would ask his eyes filled with sinister intentions, as he stood over your broken and bruised body. “I still don’t think you learned your lesson babe.” 

Seokjin:

His eyes widened as you let the words slip past your lips, only to have a slap hit you hard across your face. His angelic like face, only inches from yours as he ticked his tongue with disappointment.

“Do you really wish to make life harder for you? Even if you try to leave, I will find you. I own you, you are nothing but a pet to me. I decide if you eat, sleep, shower, or live. You own nothing, not even your own life. Once, you accepted to be my girlfriend, you agreed to being my pet. My toy, I am a god. You are a humble servant. You cannot break up with me, if you say those words again, I will kill you.”

He stated, throwing you back in your seat with a big thump. Your heart racing wildly as Seokjin cut a piece of steak and took a bite. 

“Dogs get left overs.” He smirked, drinking wine and chuckling at you. 

Yoongi:

“Don’t look at him, ever again!” He hissed, his eyes looking into yours as you felt your whole body fill with anger. “Don’t tell me what to do! I’m fucking done with this relationship!” You yelled, only to be choked slammed into a brick alley wall.

Yoongi’s eyes stared directly at yours as he grip became harder and harder with each passing second. As you struggled against his grip he only smirked, his pants tightening around his growing bulge. He wanted to fuck you right here and right now, but he needed to teach you a lesson.

“You want out of this relationship? The only way out is by death you little whore. Do you want that?”

Hoseok:

Hoseok’s eyes started to water as he replied your words over and over again in his head. He slammed the nearest lamp to the floor, as his happy demeanor now changed. Instead of being an angel, he was now the raging demon you never wanted to see.

His fists were at his side clenched as he made his way to you, you sucked in a huge breath afraid of what was going to happen to you, but instead you didn’t feel anything.

Hoseok walked to the the door and opened it. If you wanted to leave, you could, he wouldn’t force you to stay, but he would make you regret leaving. He would make your life a living hell, until you agreed to stay with him.

“I knew you would be crawling back to me.”

Jimin:

Jimin would instantly feel self-conscious. Maybe he didn’t kill as many people as he thought. Maybe you still had guy friends you were close with. What if his plan failed?

“You will never leave me!” He said through gritted teeth as he drug you into his room. No matter how much you fought, you punched you scratched, he was way too strong.

His eyes scanned your crying face, he was the only one to make you cry, laugh, smile, make you feel all emotions. This was what he wanted, now he tied you up against his bed, with a huge smile he looked at his beautiful masterpiece.

“You want to leave? Do you think that is a right choice? We are made for each other.”

Taehyung:

“Stop saying such stupid things. Do you hear yourself?” He asked, his voice starting to raise, as he looked over at you darkly. “Taehyung, this has gone on to far, I am out of this relationship.”

Before you could even make sense of what was happening, Taehyung had you pressed against the sofa, his hands on you as he bit his lip. He then started digging his nails into your legs, causing a loud squeal to erupt from you.

He stayed on top of you smirking, his mouth sucking on your neck as he gave you painful markings, and bruises. 

“You are mine, my little slave. My marks are everywhere. Try again, my little slut. Say it again, and your punishment will be way worse..”

Jungkook:

Jungkook’s laugh filled the entire room as he couldn’t contain how stupid and funny this all was to him. “You, leave me?” He asked, still laughing, until he pulled you close against his rock hard chest. His eyes boring holes into your own eyes.

His lips met yours as he bit down hard on your red lip, drawing blood off of it. You yelped in response, but he did nothing to soothe the painful stinging. He let you go only to chuckle.

“You will never have the choice to leave.” He stated, punching you in the forehead, making you pass out into a world of darkness. 

“Never let the thought cross your mind again.”

#yandere bts #bts army #bts fanfic #btsjin #bts rm #bts jimin #bts v #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #yandere #kpop #kpop yandere #kpop fanfic

[skinsharpenedteeth]

Coming Up Easy - First Sightings

I am *SO* sorry this is so hella late this week. It's been... a fucking week. CW: One mention of a homophobic slur.

You can also read this on AO3!

CUE - First Sightings

Unpacking boxes was not one of Alex’s favorite activities. He hadn’t had many when he’d moved because he hadn’t wanted to rent a truck or deal with shipping things, so the twelve boxes he’d been able to load into the late nineties Ford Explorer encompassed all his worldly possessions. He’d finally gotten a chance to start unpacking the miscellaneous boxes after a trip to Ikea for bookshelves, a bed, and a couch. Furthermore, he’d promised himself he’d explore his new city more and find second-hand shops for other household furniture and accessories, but the bookshelves would be enough to finally clear away the last of his unpacked boxes.

Alex opened the last box and looked inside. His heart softened a little as he saw the small shoebox of photographs he kept. Promising himself he’d look through it later, he unpacked the few other knick-knacks out of the box and took them to the bookshelves to start placing them. The box didn’t reenter his mind until after dinner when he found himself lounging across his new sofa with a cold beer in his hand. The box stared at him from the floor where he’d left it. Setting down his beer on the floor, he quickly got up and grabbed the box, and brought it back over to the couch. He flipped open the top and gingerly picked up the pile closest to him.

Michael and him in the desert with guitars. Liz, Max, Michael, and him at a church car wash. Michael, Kyle, and him all leaning against a bathroom wall in various stages of being phenomenally sick from drinking too much. Him and Michael hanging out at the UFO Emporium. Him and Michael eating pizza and playing video games at Max and Isobel’s. Him and Michael in college at a frat party. Him and Michael. Him and Michael. Him and Michael…

It hit Alex quite suddenly that basically since he and Michael had become friends they’d been fairly inseparable. They’d dated other people and had friends that the other didn’t like, but as a rule, it was always the two of them against the world and it had been since they were fifteen. He picked up his phone and snapped a photo of the photograph he held in his hand where they were sixteen, pimply, awkward, and bent over laughing outside the high school band room.

Me 8:46 p.m.>> Who the fuck are these dorks? <<Picture sent at 8:46 p.m.>> <<Michael 8:50 p.m.>> Holy shit, look at those nerds!! <<Michael 8:51 p.m.>> Though I gotta say, the emo one is pretty hot. If I were sixteen, I’d definitely have a crush on him. Me 8:52 p.m.>> You did not have a crush on me at 16! I was so tragic! <<Michael 8:53 p.m.>> You were not. You were fucking feral. You took exactly zero percent shit from anyone. It was hot as fuck. Me 8:55 p.m.>> You are definitely misremembering the amount of bullshit I put up with. <<Michael 9:00 p.m.>> Do you know what you were doing the first time I saw you?

Alex cast back in his memory. He remembered the first time he was aware of Michael, but not necessarily the first time Michael was aware of him. He always assumed it was at the same time.

Me 9:02 p.m.>> Uh? Scribbling emo song lyrics on my bio lab notebook? <<Michael 9:03 p.m.>> Nope. <<Michael 9:03 p.m.>> You were having a fight with Kyle during gym because he tagged your gym shirt with the word “faggot” in pink sharpie.

“Mr. Manes, you cannot wear shirts with inappropriate text on them. This is the gym. White shirts only,” Coach Heim called at Alex as soon as he walked out of the locker room and started towards where the rest of the class was lounging in the middle of the basketball court. Alex could see Kyle elbowing his football buddies and smirking, barely containing their laughter. Alex felt his face grow hot with embarrassment and fury. He kept walking towards the group.

“MR. MANES! GO CHANGE YOUR SHIRT!” the coach yelled, putting more authority into his deep baritone. He was a fit, balding adult who generally was an alright guy, but Alex was swelling with indignation. He stopped a few feet away from the group so he didn’t have to yell to be heard.

“I don’t have another shirt, sir. This is my gym shirt,” Alex explained through clenched teeth. As the rest of the class got a good look at the words emblazoned across his chest and stomach, he heard them begin to snicker and giggle quietly.

“Well, you can’t wear that one. You’re smarter than this, Alex, why would you wear this out of the locker room?” the coach asked, not sounding unkind. He shot the gathered students a dirty look and they quieted their laughter.

“Because it’s all I had to wear and it’s not my fault it was defaced. Some pink-fingered fucking COWARD of a football player must’ve thought it’d be REAL FUNNY to break into my locker and--” Alex started, voice growing louder as he let the heat behind his cheeks infuse his voice.

“I did no such thing!” Kyle yelled, cutting in on Alex. Coach Heim looked over at him, eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to tell Kyle to sit down, but as soon as Kyle stepped forward away from his buddies, Alex pounced. He landed the first hit on Kyle’s cheek, the meaty smack of their skin satisfying to him. Kyle shook it off and came at him. Before he knew it, they were rolling on the ground hitting each other as hard as they could in anyplace visible. The pain was nothing new for Alex and he kept his head clear as he tried to aim for spots that would hurt long after he was pulled off.

Too soon, arms were wrapped around his chest and a much bigger body than his was pulling him back and off of where he’d pinned Valenti to the ground. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, his ears still ringing with rage, but he could see the thin trickle of blood from Kyle’s split lip and he felt himself smile at the shock on everyone else’s face as they watched him get dragged back. He would not take Kyle’s shit this year. He would not take anyone’s shit.

Alex rubbed his fingers across his eyebrows and sighed deeply. He had been so ready to cause someone else pain by then. His dad had only gotten worse towards him when Kyle started to pull away because it meant that his “unnaturalness” was evident to everyone. His fight then and the fights in the following year always had more to do with his dad than with him being ashamed of being gay. He put the photos down in the box and went to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. His phone chimed as he unscrewed the top and after a deep drink, he checked the message.

<<Michael 9:13 p.m.>> Uh oh, you’ve left me on read. You okay? Me 9:14 p.m.>> I’m fine. Sorry. Just got wrapped up in my head for a minute. Me 9:15 p.m.>> How did you see that? You weren’t in my gym class? <<Michael 9:16 p.m.>> I was hiding under the bleachers skipping english. Me 9:17 p.m.>> THAT WAS THE FIRST DAY! <<Michael 9:17 p.m.>> Right? Nothing to do anyway. It was fine. It’s in the past. I graduated high school, didn’t I? No harm, no foul.

Alex laughed quietly to himself, staring at the message screen. He went back to the couch and flopped back down across the cushions with a sigh.

Me 9:20 p.m.>> You did. Even graduated college. I guess you’re right. <<Michael 9:21 p.m.>> When do you remember seeing me for the first time? Me 9: 23 p.m.>> I feel like it was biology when we were lab partners. I was supposed to be with Max, remember? <<Michael 9:24 p.m.>> Yeah, I was with Liz. Max had no chill back then. How the fuck did it take Liz until senior year to notice that he liked her? Me 9:35 p.m.>> Had no chill? *Has* no chill.

“Michael! MI-CHAEL!” Max hissed loudly from his seat next to Alex two rows behind where Liz was sitting. The class period was just getting started and everyone was still milling around trying to find their assigned seats. Michael looked over his shoulder at Max who was looking desperately at him. Michael mouthed ‘what?!’ and gave Max an irritated glare.

“Switch with me!” Max whisper screamed. Alex was smirking into his notebook as he watched the exchange through the side of his eye. He hadn’t really noticed the curly-haired boy before, but the eye roll he gave Max was epic. He started to turn back to the front when Max whispered again. “I’ll pay you!”

Michael turned back around abruptly and narrowed his eyes.

“How much?” Michael asked, not whispering but keeping his voice low enough not to carry to the teacher who was about to start taking roll. Max looked desperately towards the front of the class at Liz’s back where she was ignoring what was happening beside her in favor of actually paying attention. She was about the only one.

“Fifty,” Max called out.

“Seventy-five and you buy my lunch for a week,” Michael countered. Alex was highly amused. Max darted his eyes over to Liz’s back again and nodded. Michael grabbed his stuff and moved quickly towards the back of the classroom while Max grabbed his stuff to go forward.

“Sorry!” Max called out to Alex softly before he left. Alex watched him slide into the seat next to Liz smoothly and take out his notebook. She looked over and smiled at him in confusion, turning to look back at where Michael was now taking his seat next to Alex. Alex looked over at him and was struck full in the face with his mischievous grin.

“That sucker, I would’ve done it for twenty-five,” Michael shared with Alex conspiratorially, leaning closer to him while he spoke so his voice wouldn’t reach Max’s ears. Alex felt himself blushing a little at the somewhat flirtatious smirk Michael was giving him. He’d been aware of Michael, but hadn’t really ever paid him any mind. Now he was near him, he could see the interesting light brown of his eyes somewhere between gold and green. He also smelled a little like lake water and the woodsy, spicy deodorant Alex had smelled on Mr. Valenti. It was weirdly comforting.

“So he has a thing for Liz or is he that afraid of failing bio that badly? I’m not stupid,” Alex asked, clearing his throat and trying not to seem offended by Max’s desperation to switch partners.

“Oh, he has a major thing for Liz. It’s gross. Like, she’s pretty, don’t get me wrong. But he’s been writing Mr. and Mrs. Ortecho-Evans in his notebook since third grade or some shit like that,” Michael revealed, taking out his own bio notebook from his bag and setting in on the lab table in front of him. Alex took in what he was saying and nodded.

“So it’s not cause everyone says I’m gay?” Alex asked, voice low and a little nervous to see Michael’s reaction. Michael looked over at him, eyebrows drawn together and something like sympathy passing over his expression before he responded.

“No, man. Max doesn’t give a shit about that and neither do I. You weren’t planning on trying to date him, were you?” Michael asked, shooting him a grin. Alex grinned back, relieved to hear that someone in the school who was so upstanding and obviously straight like Max wasn’t a complete jerk. Michael didn’t seem too bad either.

“Nah. He’s not my type. I like musicians,” Alex joked, shooting Michael a side-grin.

“You don’t say? Do you play?” Michael asked, eyes forward now in a semblance of paying attention to the teacher. Alex glanced up towards the board, but continued slouching over his lyrics notebook.

“Guitar,” he replied shortly as the teacher started explaining their first lab assignment.

“Cool. Me too,” Michael said. Alex could see him studying him out of the corner of his eye. “We should jam sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

And they did jam together eventually. A week later they’d gotten together and Alex had learned that Michael did not know one end of a guitar from the other. He’d let Michael borrow his brother Greg’s guitar and then taught him everything he knew over the course of the next three months.

Me 9:40 p.m.>> Man. Who knew we’d still be friends this long after. <<Michael 9:45 p.m.>> I did. Once you taught me to play guitar, you were stuck with me for life. There’s an unbreakable bond built when one dude teaches another dude how to finger... Me 9:46 p.m.>> Jesus Christ. That was terrible. <<Michael 9:47 p.m.>> Bet you’re laughing though. Me 9:48 p.m.>> I plead the fifth. Also, I gotta get to bed. Early day tomorrow. <<Michael 9:50 p.m.>> That’s some responsible adult behavior right there. Gross. Me 9:51 p.m.>> You’re gross. <<Michael 9:52 p.m.>> I am gross. I’m going to take a shower and change that, however. When will you be young and fun again? Me 9:53 p.m. >> Shut up. Go take your shower. <<Michael 9:53 p.m.>> Fine. Go to bed. Think about me in bed. Me 9:54 p.m.>> *You* think about me in bed. <<Michael 9:55 p.m.>> Always do. Night Me 9:56 p.m.>> Night.

Alex heaved himself off the couch and went to his room. The apartment always seemed so dark and lonely when he finished talking with Michael. He needed to work on making friends. That would help him not miss him so much.

#coming up easy #malex wip #malex #coming up easy update #michael guerin #alex manes #fwb malex