#@giffedit

[sun-snatcher]

May i have a blurb of Haytham Kenway… a taste… pretty please…

( all credits to @giffedit for this incredible gifset! )

✠ | insufferable ; haytham kenway

summ. Bickerings oft lead to equally heated conclusions. a/n.  A TASTE you say? Here’s 1k of an angry, enemies-to-questionable-allies makeout. No actual smut, but NSFW themes, ofc.

YOU CAN’T RECALL how you got here.

Here, by way of meaning: 

Pinned against Templar Grandmaster Haytham Kenway’s paper-strewn work desk, inkpot spilled over and staining the cuffs of your sleeves, with his hands roving down your sides and your hips pressed hard against his.

“You,” he rasps, bordering a growl. “Are an insufferable woman.”

The proximity, the heat of your panting mingling with his— it’s blistering. Feverish. You want to kiss him. You want to punch him. 

You tighten the bracket of your thighs around his waist, tip the tricorn hat off his head with a defiant scowl. “You should’ve never inducted me into your Order, then, Master Kenway.”

Right. Yes. You vaguely remember now. It’d been yet another typical heated argument; another disagreement and row borne from dredging up old wounds of your ex-Assassin history, of Haytham’s present and obvious distaste of it, despite the fact you’ve proven yourself worthy to the Templars more than once alongside Shay.

Earlier, you’d barely finished your tirade (“You and your dastardly cloak make me so—!”), hands thrown in the air when the ironclad grip of Haytham abruptly circled your wrist.

The others had known better than to interfere when you’d practically been yanked into the Grandmaster’s study for an upbraiding. 

Or, well, what they thought would be an upbraiding.

“Then let us be free of this months-long tension,” Haytham had hissed, instead. “More productively.”

So here you are. Rough-housed and man-handled. You hitch at the bumps and the scolding nips he makes, try to return the same wanton fervor to his jaw and his Adam’s apple, but to no avail. Haytham is a looming shadow, greater than you not just by rank and experience but by sheer, dizzying strength— 

The vicious kisses he bullies against the bitten-red of your lips are charged and ardent. Meant to force you into some semblance of submission; to be docile. Has you gasping for air and resisting him the satisfaction of a moan when he gropes at the flesh of your thighs. 

“Master Kenway,” you choke, nuzzling into the slope of his neck, unable to stop yourself from indulging the heady, masculine, salt of it with an eager tongue.

He groans at the high and tight way you address, call, plead for him, sounding like prey at the mercy of an untamed, starved beast. 

It makes you grin when you realise. Coy as a fox and full of guile. Haytham can feel it curl across his cheek, in your slow languorous tease as you snark, “And here I thought you hated me.”

“Hate is an inadequate term,” he censures, mouthing hot and humid against your skin. “There are no words in any bloody language that can encompass just how— you make me feel.”

It’s a raw confession, as mean and as bitten out as it is. A honeyed, double-edged sword. You make a mental note of it anyway, and try not to contemplate the fact that you have this much power over the Grandmaster Templar, nor let it get to your head— whatever he means by his words. 

“And what, exactly, do you feel?” Your hand expertly wanders past his belt. The innocent petal-touch strikes a lightning bolt of want surging through him. Makes him twitch. “This?”

Haytham doesn’t deign to give you an answer, unsurprisingly. He hates not being in control, after all, and so he makes quick work to put you back in your place: below rank, through yet another savage kiss, a guttural warning nosed on the scant space just below your ear that leaves you subconsciously keening closer.

It does poorly to satiate him. The dangerous yen for something more brutal still burns molten in his stomach; something that tastes warmer. There’s still the bitter anger and bruised pride he holds from the arguments before, and for the ones that’ll surely come after. The blatant disrespect you show whenever you bare your teeth at him, as if he isn’t your superior. 

He wants— no, needs— to sink into you, to see you shut up and aching to be ruined with the thick of him—

“I’ll make you wear nothing but this ‘dastardly’ cloak of mine one day,” Haytham grinds out, voice rough-hewn from his wet and growing appetite. “And then spread you out and take my time with you.”

He greedily licks a stripe up your throat as he says it, carves the whine that escapes you into his memory.

“One day?” Your scoff is breathless and stilted. The feel of his teeth grazing your jugular is intoxicating. “I reckon you’ll— hah— hardly deliver now, Master Kenway, to— warrant another chance after this.”

(Regardless, you entertain the idea. Have entertained, to be more specific. You’ve imagined what it’s like on lonelier nights.

To have him hike your legs up his broad shoulders, tangle your fingers through his perfectly kempt hair. Catch the flash of his wry, canine-sharp smile, rare as they are; face soaked and telling over his nose and down his lips from where you’d have shut him up by forcefully burying him between your thighs and cushioning into your—)

You expect the usual blaze of anger. A challenging snarl. Instead:

“Oh?” Haytham laughs.

Laughs.

And Christ alive— that dark, daring and depraved rumble huffed at your sweat-slicked nape shouldn’t have made you more pliant; more eager for him, but it does. It feels like the damning prelude of an already losing war, now, the way he’s forced your full weight down with such frightening ease onto the desk to look up at him. 

There’s an ominous calm before a storm, brewing frostily in his dilated eyes. He’s conceding, you realise.

And then—

“Tell me to stop,” Haytham breathes. 

It’s the least insulting tone he’d taken with you yet since you’d first begun arguing. A fragile moment of clarity. 

In uncharacteristic tenderness, you feel him thumb gently at your cheek. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he says, “You have my word.”

Something soft unfurls deep in your ribcage. Takes flight.

“Don’t,” you whisper, trying not to shudder at the English gentlemanly-ness he so likes to wholly fashion himself with to hide his wild, beastly nature— that you’ve so liked to repeatedly claim you found irksome. You tighten your grip reflexively.

(Darling, dearest, dove. You never admit it, but the classy posturing has always been an attractive feat of his. Something about wolves in sheep’s clothing, you think. Something about being rabidly taken for his own animalistic pleasure—) 

“Don’t you dare, Kenway.”

And so the delicate moment passes. Haytham surges his head forward to steal a kiss from you again, inhales a lungful of your cloying scent that’s mixed with the sea-winds from the weeks of sailing aboard the Morrigan.

“Mh,” he hums in assent, nosing his way from your hairline down to the juncture of your neck; letting his calloused hand mould wide around the thin, bare skin of it to feel your bated breath and rapid pulse. He could snuff you out like a light in an instant. (And he supposes you like the thrill of that as much as he does.)

“Then I believe I ought to teach you a lesson or two about respect, dear.” 

Haytham pulls away and cocks his head. As if thinking. As if he hadn’t imagined this a hundred times over since he’d met you, in the darkest hour of every restless night when he’s alone with nothing but his fist jerking between his legs.

“How about we put that smart mouth of yours to good use first?”

[im-out-of-it]

part 2 of season 3, episode 14 continued “a kiss from a rose”

9. we can celebrate her homecoming by sending her anywhere but here 🙏

10. oh he didn’t have to call Simon for ideas? wow I’m floored #shocked

11. color me surprised, is there something jace is insecure about?????

12. thoughts for that, I do think jace is insecure when it comes to dating. he knows how to have one night stands but he knows nothing about dating and having a commitment. part of me has wondered before if he’s envious of Alec’s relationship with Magnus. he doesn’t know what a healthy commitment looks like

13. Luke better get used to being around Alec and Izzy because he’s about to be their step father

14. I love this edit, it’s so pretty 🥰 (gif by thevampiredulac)

15. oh we love a demon, sipping a drink, and planning an evil plan (or do we not?) (gif by giffedit)

GIF CREDITS FOR PART TWO:

gif by sherwoodgifs

gif by nephilimdaily

gif by lightwoodsdaily by ghafahey

gif by thevampiredulac

gif by giffedit

[smittenbyvillains]

Valtor Masterlist Part THREE

Part three of the valtor fanfics I have created (I got too many smh)



[awalkoflife-arc]

dexter morgan & harrison morgan.  ( ft. @intcthatgoodnight + @awalkoflife )

❝ You don’t raise heroes, you raise sons. And if you treat them like sons, they’ll turn out to be heroes, even if it’s just in your own eyes.  ❞

[deng-yi-deng]

⚠⚠⚠watch at your own risk

[im-out-of-it]

season 3, episode 12 “original sin” discussion list

this isn’t the scene we start off with but let me honest real quick. I actually like jonathon (I mean is it that surprising? I love villains) and he has my support in this episode (I’ll try not to over mention it but that wig is not doing clary any favors)

2. what I mean by support is that he is right in some ways about how he was raised. I mean clary thinks she’s above consequences and acts like she’s better. I don’t agree with jonathon keeping her hostage but he did raise some great points

3. and he’s kinda handsome in a way. bonus points for going against clary (gif by giffedit)

4. Jonathon is kinder than I am. I would be hatching a plan by this time

5. I’m with Izzy on this one (gif by nephilimdaily)

6. I don’t know if I just lost the sizzy appeal. I like them as friends but I don’t know if I like them as having romantic ties. I used to but it just doesn’t feel right?????

7. don’t be rude, everyone has their fears and rats are Izzy’s fears (gif by alina-aleksanders)

8. so clary expects jonathon to trust her but she can’t do the same for jonathon? I probably wouldn’t trust him either but I have more trust in jonathon than I do clary. BITCH TRUST IS A TWO WAY STREET (gif by teofilaslaboniowa)

9. ok this is real shit capturing (don’t blame me I’m tired and sick) but I love how we have Izzy moving Simon to the side and Alec moving Magnus to the side IN THE SAME EPISODE

GIF CREDITS FOR ORIGINAL SIN:

gif by shadowhuntersdaily by alberto-rosende

gif by giffedit

gif by clarys-fairchild reblogged by sharona1x2

gif by nephilimdaily

gif by alina-aleksanders

gif by teofilaslaboniowa

sorry ish that I’ve been a bit MIA the last few days. it’s been rough health wise for me but I am trying to get everything back up ✨

[im-out-of-it]

part 27 of season 3, episode 12 continued “original sin”

240. yeah because you put on a light coat and walked in the wild of Siberia dumbass 💀 the fuck did you think would happen? did clary ever go to school????? (gif by shadowsource)

241. DEMON DEMON DEMON

242. Clary telling jonathon to trust her while deceiving jonathon (gif by meliorn)

243. I wouldn’t trust jonathon either but since coming back, he wasn’t doing anything hella sketchy besides trying to keep clary at his side. and maybe he wouldn’t be so murderous if he had some actual parents and family members loving him unlike clary who got away with everything and who everyone is ordered to love

244. THOUGHTS FOR ALEC HES GOING THROUGH AN ORDEAL

245. I’m sorry I can’t take her seriously with that hair

246. ok demon, go on. you were saying?

247. it’s beyond me to know what Alec was thinking

248. Magnus likes an authoritative Alec 👀

249. Mags, you have no idea. ah well no idea then. Magnus was so naive back then

GIF CREDITS FOR PART TWENTY SEVEN:

gif by shadowsource

gif by clarys-fairchild reblogged by sharona1x2

gif by meliorn

gif by rafaelsilva

gif by highfever

gif by giffedit

gif by evanzbuck

gif by mattdaddario-online

gif by tboj

[deng-yi-deng]

[smittenbyvillains]

Teacher and the Enemy

Warnings:

GIF by giffedit

You were a teacher and Faragonda assigned you to protect the Winx members since they arrived. You were in your young face faze. So it didn't make it obvious you were not an adult. You enjoyed having some friends as you have gotten closer. They still did not know everything about your past.

When Valtor started to attack it was a shock. He wasn't supposed to be free. When you the girls first encountered him you kept low just in case he remembered you. Helping the girls with your angel powers. It kept him away for a while.

What you didn't see was that Valtor was watching you. He already knew. It was entertainment to see you teaching. Even though you had said once that you wouldn't. That night as you went to bed he decided to visit you. You were getting ready for bed after drying and brushing your clean hair. You turned out your lights as you crawled into the bed.

As soon as you were about to drift off you heard something and turned your light on and looked around. You stared at him. It took a minute to process he was here. He smirked at you. He remembered you. That was not a good sign.

"Hello love, I see you are a liar." He spoke as he went over to you and towered over your form in the bed. You glared at him.

"Get out of here." You said. He grabbed your hand and slipped his finger on you.

"Don't forget this. You are still mine. We were going to get married and that will happen. Stop this silly game and accept it."

"No." You tried removing the ring from your finger. It did not move. You just sit there scared. Valtor left you alone but you knew he was always watching.