#mywritng

[legends-of-apex]

Heaven is Here | Namor x Reader

Rating: M (implied smut, implied nudity, intimacy)

Word Count: 1,150

Summary: Just a short little slice of life fic in which Namor finally has the time to pay the reader, a surface dweller, a visit for the first time in months. Some fluff and implied smut. No spoilers for Wakanda Forever. Reader is gender neutral.

You could never tire of seeing him emerge from beneath the rolling waves. The ocean clung to him as an old friend, sticking his dark, water-laden hair to his scalp. He raised a hand, his golden bracers glinting off the sun at his back, and ran his fingers back through his hair. As his hair parted between his fingers, saltwater streamed down his neck to pool in the dips of his collarbones and make a riverbed of his torso.

The water lapped at his waist now, twinkling off his golden waistband as his spear sank into the sand with each firm step. When his chin tilted, eyes adjusting to the scorching light of the sun instead of the darkness of his home, you began walking toward him with barely contained restraint.

He strode with strong steps as he always did. He had the walk of a king, a man with the weight of an entire people on his broad shoulders. By some miracle, he was strong enough to bear that weight. As the sweet sound of you calling his name reached his ears and your blurred figure became clear he started walking more quickly, forcefully towards you. The water parted with each forceful stride of his thighs, sending sea spray along his warm skin.

He reached you just as the pads of your feet began to slap against the shallow water and he gathered you into his arms before you had a chance to say anything. He hooked your knees over his hips to anchor you to him, so he could bury his face in your shoulder and hold you against him as firmly as he dared. His green and golden spear lay abandoned in the shallow water, forgotten in his eagerness to hold you in his arms.

It was so long since you’d last seen him. He told you if not this waxing crescent then the next and you’d watched the moon more than you’d ever care to admit every day since he left.

“I have missed you, my love.” He spoke into your neck between feverous kisses.

“I’ve missed you too.” You replied with a shaky breath, his hair glided through your fingers at the back of his head, too slippy to grip from saltwater.

You wrung your arms around his neck for balance and clung to him like a vine upon an ageing tree. You pulled back from him for a moment to look him in his beautiful brown eyes but he barely let you for pressing his warm lips to yours. You felt the cold jade of his septum piercing against your cheek, its perfectly polished surface contrasting with the soft prickle of his facial hair upon your skin.

Oh, how you had missed the sweet sound of his voice and the slight taste of salt upon his lingering lips.

He carried you a few feet until he could shake the water from his wings and lay you back against the soft golden sands. As the waves kept rolling in, he knelt between your legs and kissed you again so passionately you could barely breathe. You were both so needy, so hungry for one another that the setting almost escaped you.

“Not here,” You whispered, as his lips trailed down your neck so cherishingly. “Once you start I won’t want you to stop.”

"As you wish." He replied with a smile as he lifted you back into his arms again and began walking in the direction of your quaint seaside home.

He’d have had you on that beach for the blue skies and the sun to see if you’d asked. He’d have pushed back the tide, let it swallow all but the altar of dry sands you lay upon and the grains that filled your grasping fists. You’d have laid there for hours uncaring even as the sun began to scorch your skin. It wouldn't have mattered so long as you were together.

When you reached home he made love to you as sweetly and as gently as he had the first time. He always did when he’d been away for so long. Despite his need for you, all he ever wanted to do was cherish you having not had the pleasure of feeling your flesh on his for so long. When his head wasn’t buried between your legs his forehead barely left your own, only to kiss your lips or your neck.

When you were finished, laying there basking in one another, he tugged you into his lap and enveloped you in his big arms. Those arms that wrenched sunken ships from their watery graves and tamed orcas now held you so delicately. These were the moments he craved the most when he was away from you. There was something otherworldly about the peace that washed over him as he heard your breath return to normal, your heartbeat evening out.

"I've really missed this with you." You told him as he trailed his lips along your bare shoulder, treasuring every inch of your skin.

"I can’t apologise enough for leaving you so long.” His voice grew quiet so he barely spoke. His mind weighed heavily with guilt.

“There’s no need to be. Your people need their king. I know that.” You settled back against him even more in an effort to console him, a hand on his upper arm, his broad chest at your cheek. He held your face and encouraged you to look up at him, to gaze at his watering eyes. You covered his hand with your own out of habit and he hummed a sound so deep it sent a shiver through you.

“And their king needs you, my love.” He brought your knuckles to his lips before pressing your palm flat against his chest, right over his heart, so you knew he meant it, “I’ll always come back to you.”

His warm hand moulded your hand to his chest, his heart beating slow and steady. You may not have been one of his people but he loved you and wanted to be there to protect you just as much. The tides would have to carry him home again soon, back to his duties and his people who he loved so much. He’d leave just before morning light and be back before anyone would even notice he was gone. But for now, he was happy just laying with you and holding you in his arms, free of the oceans weighing heavy on his shoulders.

[roseofbattles]

She was sitting in the dining room – which was blessedly empty for the time being – when Aeneas arrived, carrying her daughter braced against his hip like a father would.

He was dressed, as usual, in his uniform – the dark red tunic edged in black that all Kirithian soldiers wore. The local garrison Captain before Aeneas had not been so particular about wearing it but Aeneas was a very particular sort of man.

If that didn't give him away the armor would – he rarely wore a full set but the leather breastplate and  bracers he did not go without – at least not when he was on duty.

He let Kas down and Paire shooed her off.

“Cardea could use some help,” she said, not knowing if it was true or not.

Aeneas watched her, that steady, slate grey gaze of his as insistent as that of the North Sentinel, or the Little Warden.

“There's already talk,” he said, coming to stand before her. “Do you expect there will be trouble?”

She set aside her ledger and motioned for him to sit.

Seated as well as standing they saw almost eye to eye – he was barely taller than her, perhaps just by a finger or two.

She held out the folded notice that the messenger had brought.

“I thought you might want to read this.”

[mazandaroga]

MURYOKU

Summary:

Yuna helps the Rebellion with their fight against Shimura’s rule, even managing to get into the Castle Shimura’s grounds, only to find out that the Jito is keeping a long-kept secret in his chambers when it is too late.

CHAPTER 1: WEAKNESS

CHAPTER 2: STRANGER

CHAPTER 3: BOKUTO

CHAPTER 4: ESCAPE FROM YARIKAWA

CHAPTER 5: NOT AS PLANNED

@serene-faerie @unclefungusthegoat @castershellwrites

[future-bounds]

Glass

Glass

I find it out of the ordinary to want to be in a moment that is not current. A desire to exist somewhere else while existing here. It is like looking through a giant glass door with no handle. You can raise the palm of your hand to touch the cold glass. That cold feeling—it leaves you agonizing for what could’ve been without a remedy to ease your pain. It is really a daunting feeling that surrounds your essence, making your body ebb slowly into the void. You are always looking beyond the glass begging the door to open asking for a moment that was never yours to begin with. All my hopes for you is to stop looking through that glass under the shadow of darkness and isolation. If you start to feel the ice-cold glass, let go and look right here. There are no broken pieces of a past nor future to cut you, nothing to pick up and repair. You are lost at an intersection, or perhaps, wandering around one. Lean down to pick some sand off the ground and hold it tightly; you are here now.

[myriadebleue]

Here’s what the chapter index of my main fanfic should look like in about... two years, if this keeps up.

A lot of those titles are supposed to be placeholders, but knowing myself they will probably end up being final.

In other news I’m also trying to finish writing two little fics called “Somnio” and “Fix up”(For now.). As well as some drabbles for the “MegaPit Shorts”.

[EDIT: Screw it, I put them all in.]

[ghostofviperwrites]

Shreds - Part 3 of 5

Pairing:   Evil

Category:   Angst

Word Count: 1130

Warnings:  Bit more angst for the LIJ boys. 

2.            “Pick one.”

Evil didn’t care if it was barely past breakfast.  He wanted a drink, no; needed a drink, and he needed it now.  Given the time of day only the seediest of bars were open which suited him just fine.   Bellying up to the bar he ordered a bottle of whisky, paid for it and took up residence in the darkest booth they had.  He didn’t bother with a glass, tossing back mouthfuls of the cheap liquor straight from the neck.   He was left alone; his surly countenance ensuring the few barflies hanging around stayed far out of his reach.   He stared blankly at the daytime soap running on the small television over the bar as he tried to drink away the hurt Bushi had instilled in him. 

He didn’t like feeling like this, calling himself a pussy for letting something so stupid get to him.  For letting himself hurt.  Evil didn’t let things affect him.  That’s not who he was.  The fact that his brother didn’t trust them enough to share something so important in his life left a burning hole inside him.   Evil had always felt smug watching the turmoil in stables around him, watching the backstabbing and bickering; knowing his own stable was actually family.  There were no secrets.  Or so he had thought.  

Slamming back some more liquor Evil thought over the past few months.  He had noticed a difference in Bushi.  He had stopped going out with them as much, and when he did he didn’t partake in their usual festivities.  Upon questioning Bushi always had some excuse.  When they had visitors to the locker room Bushi would mysteriously vanish.   They had all noticed.  Separately and together they had asked if something was wrong.  Evil frowned as he glared at the table.  A part of him understood where Bushi was coming from.  None of them had ever made a secret of the way they felt about relationships and love as a whole.  But the bigger part of him felt betrayed.  That Bushi should have known them better.  That he should have known they were there for him no matter what.  

Evil drummed his fingers on the table as he thought through the current situation within LIJ.  Hiromu lying broken in a hospital bed.   Sanada and Naito at each other’s throats over the G1.  Bushi lying to them.  His own head wrapped up in Zack Sabre and his failings in the ring.   He knew the real reason behind all the tension.  None of them wanted to admit it, but the new group member they were adding had them all feeling off balance.  It had been rumored for months and now that it was a done deal it was messing with their harmony.   It was the elephant in the room and they were all ignoring it.  

The ringing of his phone pulled Evil from his musings and he immediately answered as Sanada’s name flashed across the screen. 

Sanada didn’t need to ask for help twice, Evil abandoning his bottle, grateful he had only drank a few swallows as he left the bar.   As he drove his mind raced as he tried to figure out what trouble his friend could be in that had him sounding so unlike himself.   Even at his most unbalanced and emotional Sanada didn’t sound like that.  

Pulling into Sanada’s driveway he frowned as he looked at the red Mercedes parked in front of Sanada’s car.  Not bothering to knock Evil let himself in finding Sanada sitting on the bottom of his stairs, head in his hands. 

“You alright?”  Evil asked cautiously approaching.   He was taken aback when Sanada looked up at him, his face etched in pure misery, eyes red and watery.   Immediately Evil was at his side, slinging his arm over Sanada’s shoulder and pulling him into his side.  

“What do you need?”  Evil asked. 

“Kana.”  Sanada said a shuddering sigh racking his body.

“Kana’s here?” Evil confirmed putting two and two together based on the state of his friend and the car outside. 

“You didn’t…hurt her did you?”  Evil asked after Sanada’s confirming nod, feeling relief course through him at Sanada’s quick negative response.   He would do anything for Sanada, including cleaning up any unfortunate messes that may arise, but it certainly made it much easier that Sanada hadn’t completely lost it.  

“She’s in my bed.”  Sanada said after a long moment, wincing as Evil’s arm tightened around him.

“You fucking idiot.”  Evil said with a sigh. 

“I know.”  Sanada agreed.   “I…I can’t make her leave.  I just want to hold her and stay with her and let her back into my life.  I don’t want her to go.  But she has to.” 

“I know.”  Evil said softly.  “I’ve got it man.” 

Evil shuffled Sanada out of the house, sending him over to his place before heading up the stairs towards Sanada’s bedroom.   In the doorway he paused looking over the poisonous beauty spread over Sanada’s sheets.  

Moving to the side of the bed Evil knelt across it and grabbed Kana by the hair making her eyes fly open and scream shatter the still of the afternoon air.  

“Sanada!”  Kana screamed looking around for her lover. 

“He’s not here.” Evil said flatly.  “He asked me to help him with his problem.  So I’m going to solve it.  You are never going to speak to him again.  You are never going to look his direction again.   You’re done.  You’re going to take your pathetic gold-digging manipulative ass out of his life.  If you come around again I’m not going to play nearly as nice as I am right now.  You have to two choices:  I can drag you out of here by your hair and throw your ass out, or you can walk out with a little dignity. Pick one.” 

“You can’t do this.  Sanada wants me.”  She argued.  “You can’t force me to leave him alone.”

Kana shrieked as Evil rose from the bed and dragged her out, throwing her on the floor next to where he dress had fallen earlier when Sanada divested her of it.   She stared up at the intimidating beast of a man with tears in her eyes as she hurriedly slid the dress over her head.  

“If I hear about you coming anywhere near him, hell even breathing in his direction again I’m going to introduce you to my dungeon.”  Evil warned.  

That was enough for Kana who quickly rose to her feet and scurried out of the bedroom, heart thudding as Evil followed behind her, a silent threat in his very presence.   She would have to find someone else to play for a fool.  Someone who didn’t have a psychotic best friend as their guard dog. 

[ajones1218]

Untitled Fairy Tale

If I had known the deal my father had made, I would have gone kicking and screaming. Weeks later I could still feel the ache of his betrayal deep in my bones. As I stood before the gilded mirror, trussed up in silver ribbons and a hemline that swept down the stool on which I stood, I could only despise the creature that stood staring back at me. This was a gown made for a woman who was meant to be motionless. More decoration than person, I was a captured bird in a cage of lace filigree. But I was born to be free. 

Before now, I had slept under a roof as many times as I had fingers. I grew up with the stars as my roof and naught for walls. I wore mud and dust as a second skin and shot my first squirrel at the age of five with my brother Angus’ sling. 

“It’s that voice o’ hers. Brings the critters crawlin’ it does.” Gran said. Father said nothing, but after breakfast he set me to learning my scales. 

From then on I was Leanne the Lark of the Northland Traveling Players. 

At first I loved to sing, and performances could not come quickly enough. I yearned for the coal smoke smell of cities just over the horizon when we would don our colors and string the bells on the wagons. We danced into the streets to squeals of delight, “the players are here!” 

--Some new writing, I am excited about it because it has been ages since I have written anything. If you like it give it a reblog and Ill try and reblog some of your stuff or give you a follow. Thanks!--

[trenchcoatsandtimetravel]

Not Without You | 7

Sequel to my post-endgame Stucky fix-it fic

=

Bucky falls from the train. Eventually Steve finds him.

(Read on AO3)

[writeawayjake]

Am I annoying you yet?!

Chapter 28

Yes sir

       

              The plan was simple enough. Get this Thief King to come to them; have him commit full force, and trap him in the relatively narrow corridor of the main street. After that it would just be butchers work.

             He and Jak had every unskilled person and farmer from nearby digging a trench along the western edge of town between them and the forest, and between that they were piling all the dirt in order to form a birm. If he'd had an actual army there would be a shield wall of spearman between that birm and the trench with archers on the birm, but for their purposes it was just to discourage an attack from that flank. The birm and trench would need spikes. 

             For that they had every crofters and carpenter and anyone who knew how to use and axe or saw felling trees. First for the stakes but secondly to reinforce the southern palisade.

             The goal was to give him only one way in, once he was, they'd slam the door behind him. Every doorway would have a person with a spear and every roof would have hunters and anyone else with a bow firing down, they'd be joined by others throwing rocks, pottery, and whatever else.

             They had set Skye to making any kind of explosive or smoke bombs she might know. She would have the help of the towns cooks, chefs, barmaids, and anyone else who knew their way around a cookbook. 

             In the street, Jared, the sheriff, and any other soldiers would be joined by barfighters, hardcases, and anyone else brave enough for a melee. Knowing Skye, she'd want to fight with them, and Gods knew she would acquit herself well, but he had pleaded with her to command the rooftops with her bombs and magic.

             In the basement of the tavern would be the old and the children. Jak had assigned a few men that he trusted to watch over them.

             By Jak's estimates the King had around a hundred to a hundred and fifty men, but he could have many more. By Jared's best estimate they had around a hundred townsfolk to work with. Not the best odds but certainly not terrible if each of them fought hard and smart. 

            Hopefully though, they wouldn't have to cut their way through all of the brigands. Jared had made it very clear that the days objective was to take out the King. Dead or captured made no real difference. 

           As Jak was delegating labor and generally organizing the plan, Jared thought he'd be of better use elsewhere. He had picked up an axe and decided to cut trees for now, telling himself it was to be the first line of defense should the Thief King's men arrive early.

          They sky was gray and overcast yet the days work was still making him sweat. For the moment some of the older children were being of use by bringing water to those working and as Jared chipped at a tall ash tree a small red haired child approached him with her water bucket. He recognized her as the old legionnaire's granddaughter.

          Without a word the child lifted the bucket for Jared to get a drink with the ladle inside. 

          "Thank you," he huffed. 

          "Yoa welcome." She replied. As he put the ladle back he made to swing again when he noticed the child wasn't leaving. 

          "What is it little one?" He asked.

          "My gwampa wants you." 

          "Where is he?"

          Jared whipped the sweat from his brow as he walked into the shop Skye had taken over as her workshop. At one of the tables, placing fuses into clay pots filled with Gods knew what, sat the old legionnaire. 

          "Kass said you needed me?" He asked.

          "Ah! Yes, come with me." The old man exclaimed. 

          Skye had seen and nodded at Jared that it was alright to take one of her helpers.

         The old man led him away to his family's home. A modest place, clean, a fine hearth and well made wooden furniture but in the far corner a simple mannequin wearing a set of legion armor.

         "My fighting days are behind me. It would be put to better use by you." Said the warrior grandfather.

         "Sir I…" 

         "Oh hush! You take it. I can't fight to keep them safe." Jared could see tears welling up in the old mans grey eyes as his voice trembled. "You're how I can protect them! Don't you dare try to take that from me son…"

          Now Jared's eyes saw the beginnings of tears. "Yes sir." He managed to choke out. 

@emdop

[peachhoneii]

Little Garden of Horrors: 1/5

Characters: HDLW (OC) Shipping: N/A Summary: In a house unlike any other four children play hide and seek, but it’s impossible to tell what lurks underground, what hides under Time’s shade.

Bolivar is an actual character from Disney animated canon. He’s appeared in comics an an animated short. St. Bernards are adorable.

Hide and seek. Their decision was made on a whim after their school lessons were concluded. Webby grasped the game’s simple rules five seconds after Huey’s explanation, and she squealed in poorly controlled enthusiasm, unable to wait for the boys to choose a seeker.

She ran down the corridors, wondering what hiding area would name her champion hider. Each room held potential. A dimensional hopping corner, a hidden wall, a secret compartment under the floorboards leading to unimaginable horrors, and she knew her best friends were capable of discovering each of these with little to  great effort, depending on the seeker. Webby stopped, clasping her hands in prayer position. “It needs to be good. It needs to be best,” she mumbled aloud, able to hear the distant counts to thirty or maybe fifty. She nearly slipped on a small tuff of hair on the floor, and she grunted, testing its fluffy texture. “Oh Bolivar,” she groaned, dropping the abandoned strands, “Granny is going to have to give you a haircut.”

There was no time to falter. In her impatience, she didn’t know the designated number count. He may have stopped at twenty, forty-five, or even one hundred. Jumping on her toes, she flickered to each of the doors, weighing their potential until she made it to the last door on the left. An arbitrary decision, the chosen door wasn’t spectacular in anyway. Its faded paint was somewhat chipped, but Webby knew, for one reason or another, this was the door for her. Hearing the voice grow stronger, she hurried inside without a second thought, and gasped a little at the sight. “Scrooge’s private study.” Closing the door, she stifled an amazed giggle-cackle. This room was one of Scrooge’s many private studies. His mansion had countless studies currently abandoned or forgotten, and she had visited the majority of them, except for this one. She pranced to the bookcases and fingered the worn, dusty leather spines, childish glee squirting out of her mouth every second. Webby swirled in the new room’s knowledge. She was transfixed, and didn’t hear the door quietly open. She didn’t hear the intruder’s quiet footsteps. Curled on the floor with a botany book on her lap, she pretended the quiet footsteps approaching her was the passing wind, although every window in the vicinity were closed shut. She murmured in rich hisses, closer to a pinched squeal than a serpent. The intruder reached towards her shoulder, ready to grip her and do untold things to her momentarily defenseless position. “Hi, Louie.” She propelled the book in his face, unintentionally pushing him backwards. Her finger pointed to page 185, "Though hemlock is one of the most poisonous plants in existence, someone utilized oleander's fatality's into an unmerciful curse!" Louie's silent horror remained so as she pressed the book to her chest, a dreamy expression swallowing her exuberant enthusiasm. He'd never understand her affection for most deadly, odd things. “Okay.” Louie said, “Shouldn’t you be hiding?” Webby tilted her head to the side, “Shouldn’t you?” “Hide and seek is for children.” “But we are -,” “And it was more for Huey than us anyways.” Walking to the far end of the room, a disinterested glance passed over the numerous books, maps, and paintings the room offered, “He’s searching for Dewey.” “Dewey is the easiest find.” Louie shrugged, “Huey’s going to check the kitchen first. He always does.” Stopping in front of a portrait, his scrupulous stare studied its contents before shrugging back o Webby, “And he’s probably hiding in the snack pantry, typical Dewey.” “It means we don’t have a lot of time left.” Webby returned the book to its shelving area, “And we’re in the same room. We’ve narrowed the game down to a few seconds.” Louie scoffed, “Hubert’s good, but he isn’t that good,” spreading his arms open, “there are like a million rooms down this hall alone. He’s going to get lost.” “Or Dewey’s going to get lost, and Huey has to find him.” Smiling back, she headed towards the door when she noticed an old Grandfather’s clock near the wall, “Oh, this is new.” “What?” “This clock?” Its smooth glass sent tingles up her spine while the gold pendulum swung slowly within. Infatuated, Webby tipped on her toes, peering to see its contents, “It’s an unusual Grandfather clock, that’s all. “He has a million of these,” which was true. Every other room contained a minimum of one Grandfather clock, some short, some tall, all made of an unidentifiable wood Huey had yet to discover in the JWG. He tipped toed to the large hand, pushing it up a little, and then he did the same to its shorter twin. “What are you doing,” Webby gasped. “Eh. Wanted to see what happens.” He looked out the window, “They’re near the pond,” he chuckled softly, “okay, Dewey may have tried hiding in the pond, the dork.” Walking away, he failed to notice Webby’s breathless expression, or the fact she had stepped several inches backwards, eyes growing wider with every step. “Louie!” She whispered - hissed, “Louie, what are you doing!?”

He didn’t look back, dragging a yawn he didn’t bother to cover up, “Going to the kitchen for a can of Pep. Haven’t had my peak Pep limit today.” “You can’t leave.” She hissed, “Not now.” “Eh, it’s not a big deal. I’ll get there before they get back. We’ll have another turn to hide.” Opening the door, he turned to grin, but felt his grin slip off his beak, replaced with wordless shock. “Now, you want to look!” Whitish blue light engulfed the room. The Grandfather Glock levitated off the floor, filling the room with a great, whoosh sound. Louie pressed his back against the door, shutting it tight. “What’s going on?” “You tell me!” Shielding his gaze with his arm, “This feels strangely familiar,” one foot in front of the other, he was at Webby’s side, “why does this feel familiar?” “I don’t know!” Webby pushed him out of the way the moment the Grandfather clock fell to the floor, landing in a perfect position with steam rolling off its wood. Silence. The light, its sounds, everything was emptied, leaving the private study in absolute silence. Louie crashed onto the floor with Webby on top of him, shielding him from whatever anticipated explosion, but they were left empty handed. “What was that?” Louie sat up, a little fringed but otherwise unharmed, “What was that,” he gestured to the now quiet Grandfather clock - even its pendulum no longer swung, “Are Grandfather clocks supposed to do that?” “Normally, no.” Webby dusted her skirt off, studying the clock a bit harder than earlier, “You see,” she tapped the glass, “look at the pendulum.” “No.” Webby frowned, “Are you going to do this now?” “What’d ya’ mean?” “I mean,” she drawled, “if you hadn’t touched the hands, then none of this would’ve happened.” Glaring back at the glass, there’s something in the pendulum, I thought it was just crystal,” she scrutinized the gem cut rising in pendulum’s center, “but it seems to be something else.” “Oh, is it shiny?” “Well, yes, it’s a gem, naturally.” Webby answered, “But it seems to be cracked.” A thin, miniscule crack seeped into the gem’s blue-green-indigo mixed body. “It isn’t diamond,” Louie observed, “or gold.” “It’s a mineral of some kind? Chrysoberyl, perhaps?” “Oh, you mean Alexandrite.” “Right!” Webby snapped her fingers, “Alexandrite! This must be the legendary Clock of Chronos,” she paused, staring at Louie, “wait, who said that?” Louie’s and Webby’s shoulder stiffened. Their necks leaned backwards while their stares rolled to the ceiling where the third voice’s person came into view. Teal stared wide-eyed at them, “Oopsie.” Webby dodged. Louie didn’t.

Louie wasn’t dead. He wasn’t harmed. He wasn’t sure what happened, but knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he was far from safe.

“Um...Webby,” an arm securely wrapped itself around his neck. He tried to move, to create some distance, but slender, short arm was firm, “Webby, I’m not safe. I’m so very, very, very not safe.” “You’re not Donald.” He was thrown to the floor. Glaring ahead, he snapped back, “What’s your damage?” White blond curls fell over a shoulder, “Damage?” Kneeling down, inquisitive worry showed on her face, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” “You could’ve!” A thick gasp pounded on her bouncy curls, “I’m sorry!” Grabbing the front of his hoodie, he was suddenly pulled on his feet, and she clasped his hands, bright eyes shining with unshed tears, “A young lady does not put strangers in chokeholds, Duckworth tells me, and what do I do, put a stranger in a chokehold!” “Especially in their house!” Louie jerked away, “Chokeholds in our house, what’s your damage?” She frowned, “I-I don’t understand.” Confusion graced over the bookcase, walls, paintings, and windows, “This is my house. I live here.”

“This is the manor of Scrooge McDuck,” Louie said. He scrutinized her, “Unless you’re some kind of ghost - are you a ghost?”

“No.”

“Well, unless you’re a ghost -,”

“Didn’t you say Duckworth,” Webby interjected.

“I did.”

They exchanged uneasy glances, “Oh.” Adjusting their positions, reflected on the painting positioned near the Grandfather clock, “Oh.”

Louie smacked his lips, “You’re the creepy girl in the painting.”

“Creepy-cute is less rude."

“Wait, so…,” the clogs in Webby’s brain worked faster than Louie’s. A shrill squeal freed itself as enveloped her arms around the girl, hugging her in a tight, unforgiving embrace, “Hi! I’m Webby!”

“Hi!” The girl's stare widened in shock, resuming its normalcy as she settled in Webby's embrace. Returning the hug with identical intensity, she giggled, “I’m Opal!”

“What?” Shaking his head, pulling them apart, “You need to tell me,” glaring at Webby, “what’s going on here?”

Webby bounced on her feet, fists clenched in poorly contained excitement, “Don’t tell me you don’t know,” gesturing madly to the girl, “it’s her! It’s her!”

“Who!?”

“Opal McDuck!” She sighed, “Scrooge’s daughter!”

A pause. “Wait.” Another pause, “Hold on.” Louie let the information sink into the depths of his knowledge, but even as it sat at the very bottom, it didn’t settle.

No. The information rocked unsteadily in his brain like a ship battling through a raging storm.

He repeated in dumb shock.

“Scrooge’s daughter,” he shook his head, “he has a kid!”

Louie's lips puckered in, absorbing the girl’s - no, Opal’s very existence. His right eye twitched, and all the cogs in his usually fast working brain came to a screeching halt.

“Hi.” The girl waved sheepishly, "I'm Opal."

[legends-of-apex]

Atecocolli | K'uk'ulkan/Namor x Reader

Rating: General (fluff, confessions, general cuteness)

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: After the King of Talokan confesses his love to you, he leaves you with a gift. Reader isn’t gendered, no use of y/n

A/N: this is a birthday present for my absolutely wonderful friend Mika!! Hope you’ve had the happiest of birthdays 🥳

What a strange thing it was to have a god-king look at you with eyes so vulnerable.

"I understand if you do not want to answer me right now. So I will give you this and leave you in peace,” He presented you with a shell, an Atecocolli. It's coiling spine was covered in intricate, raised patterns that your fingers couldn't help but admire. You traced the shell’s spout as he traced your knuckles.

After a long breath filled with salt-dusted sea air, you gathered the courage to look at him again. It felt like staring at the sun. You had no idea what to say to him but thankfully he seemed to understand that.

“Should you ever need me, my love, speak my name into it as you would a whisper in my ear. When you place it in the water, I will be with you as soon as I can."

"How?"

"Your voice will call me to you." He replied, and he looked forward to hearing it.

The king’s body dipped as he brought your knuckle to his lips. His eyes poured into yours as he did it.

He'd never felt more vulnerable than when he confessed his love for you a few moments ago. He tore a cavity in his chest and bore his soul to you, his heart. He asked only that you respond to his confession when you feel ready. So one day, when courage possessed you, you did just that. You raised the shell to your lips, let the fresh sea air fill your lungs, and whispered his name softly, as you would a prayer.

"K'uk'ulkan…” and then let the shell sink into the sand to be taken by the sea.

You could barely hear your own voice over the wind yet it drifted through the ocean - through currents and reefs, past lightning-fast fish and rippling jellyfish tendrils - until it reached the pointed ears of the man you wanted to hear it. He heard it from his place on his throne, seated within a megalodon's jagged jaws. Your voice floated across his sensitive ears like a ghost of a kiss and he sighed in relief and ecstacy at the sound. He adored how you tasted his name on your tongue.

He emerged from the waves and stood before you not long after with the Atecocolli clutched in one hand and his spear in the other. It was then that you were reminded that the man who told you that he loved you was indeed a god. He was built like one, with his broad back, chest and shoulders. His face longed to be immortalised in stone for how strong his jaw was, how beautiful his nose. Seawater stuck silken hair to his forehead, the droplets rolling down his body drawing branches into his skin like veins in marble.

His entire being ought to have been carved from marble but the stone surely wouldn’t do him justice, you thought. A sculpture could never capture the gentle starlight in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking you weren’t calling him for aid. You nodded and he took a breath of short-lived relief. “You have thought about what I said…"

"I have." You confirmed.

"Then I beg you to put my misery to rest,” He pleaded, throat bobbing. No matter what your answer was, he had to hear it.

He handed you back the Atecolli, the shell so large you had to cradle it with both hands. It was an extension of reassurance that even if you didn’t love him back he’d still come to your aid, he’d still keep you safe and visit if you asked.

You hesitated, let the air hang a moment longer and the wind whip through your clothes. He thought that was that - a rejection. He prepared himself to change the subject and bid your farewell so he might wallow in his longing alone. He didn't realise you were simply gathering courage to do something you'd been wanting to for longer than he could possibly imagine a mortal waiting for anything with lifespans so short.

“Do I frighten you?” He asked with eyes so soft they put the sand beneath your feet to shame.

The question confused you. “No,” you answered quietly. “Not at all.”

“Why then do you tremble?”

He was right, you were trembling. Whether it was from anticipation or something else, he couldn’t tell. But he couldn’t escape the sinking feeling that maybe he had scared you and that was why your body shook.

He had never before cared what another being thought about him. He’d never had to. He ruled with dignity and respect for his people and they returned that sentiment. His enemies? He couldn’t have cared less. But you? He cared that the sun shone bright enough for you, that the grass you walked upon stayed green. He cared so deeply about how you perceived him that it scared him at first. But then he realised that he, the King of Talokan, was in love with you. That’s why he cared. As the realisation dawned on him, he’d never felt more vulnerable and so sickeningly human.

"In yaakunech,” your voice broke him out of his spiralling thoughts. I love you.

He stilled and grew quiet for a moment and you worried you'd misspoken or that he was perhaps offended by you speaking his mother tongue. Then his eyelids fluttered closed, guarding the beautiful brown from your gaze. When his eyes re-opened, they watered and his mouth bore a smile so wide it must have hurt.

"Thank you. Thank you." His quivering hand cupped your cheek and leaned his forehead against yours and you stood there just enjoying the ease of which you could be with one another. The warmth radiated off him, cutting through the cool ocean breeze. "You have no idea how I have yearned to hear that from you. Thank you, in yakunaj.”

My love. He called you his love and he meant it with his whole heart. Those words were a promise.

He was half a millennia in age and all around him his loved ones perished with the slow yet inevitable crawl of time. One day he would lose you too as he did all things eventually. So your time together would be short but precious. He was grateful that his longing could end and that you could be together, even if for a little while.

[infusedinspiration]

Remember the person I would want to spend the rest of my life with would want me to take no bullshit.

[melodrama-lorde]

Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard “Bones” McCoy, James T. Kirk & Leonard “Bones” McCoy Characters: James T. Kirk, Leonard “Bones” McCoy Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Hugging, listen I wrote this and I want to cry! Summary:

There were only two nights that Leonard and Jim felt like they were the loneliest and most lost being’s in the universe. Jim, a lost star Leonard, the lonely night

[caapcandamy-blog]

~It will not be yours again...~

Check out my instagram account @candamyclouds for more content like this!!! Have a beautiful and creative day :D

[thewhitefly-blog1]

Humanity

Sometime I lose myself thinking about humanity. Humans are so strange, complicated, fascinating. And cruel. Humans behaves in unexplicated ways.

The mistery of humanity surround us everyday.

[ghostofviperwrites]

Wrong Turn

Requested by @wrestlingismyfavourite - so I don’t know what happened this one kind of went off the rails, but you got a two-for-one as Hiromu insisted he belonged in this story

Pairing:  Seiya Sanada/FC/Hiromu Takahashi

Category:   Smut

“You’re in trouble now.”

Miyuki Kato strolled along the backstage tunnels of the Tokyo Dome in a huddled group of three of the latest interns brought in by NJPW corporate. They were tasked with following the executives around and making sure their every need was met.  To say it was exhausting was an understatement.  It seemed these three men could do nothing for themselves and Miyuki and the other two interns were being run ragged.  They were just about to be dismissed for lunch though, finally getting a break, as the executives were going into a closed meeting.  

As soon as they were excused the three hurried to the catering room, not knowing if their break would be 5 minutes or 5 hours.  With plates for of food she sat at the table with the two other interns and they began eating quickly.  As she ate Miyuki tried not to be intimated by the large men traipsing in and out of the room.  Some taking up residence at the tables surrounding them, while some just grabbed food and left.  Miyuki was fascinated.  She didn’t follow wrestling and didn’t know who any of these people are.  The only reason she had gotten the internship was because of her father’s influence, so this was a very eye opening experience. These men were all so loud and boisterous.  Settling back to relax after she was done eating Miyuki’s attention was caught by a very attractive young man strolling into the room wearing the wildest ring gear she had seen yet with bold colors and red fur trim at the bottoms.  He had a matching coat and black hair with bright red dyed throughout it.  What really caught her attention was the little black and white stuffed cat he held in his arms.  That had to be the strangest thing she had seen today by far.

Miyuki watched as the man grabbed a bottle of water and some breakfast bars all the while cradling the cat gently in his arms.  While she couldn’t hear him, it appeared he was carrying on a conversation with the cat nodding or shaking his head on occasion.  Miyuki couldn’t help but be intrigued finding herself rising to follow him as he skip walked from the room.  She had to almost run to keep up with him, trying not to make it obvious that she was following him as he ducked around corners.  Miyuki knew she had been caught out when he peeked back around a corner and sent her a megawatt smile before disappearing back around the bend. She had come too far now to back out so she continued on her path, curious about the man with the cat.   She had a smile on her face as she followed him, certain she was being led on a wild goose chase as they seemed to be going in circles as he went through doors that led to more hallways that led to more doors.  Miyuki was hopelessly lost and had lost sight of her tour guide as she went around yet another corner.  Peering down the long hallways she was certain she wasn’t so far behind that he would make it out of the hallway, so the only option left was the door on the right. Picking up her pace Miyuki rushed through the doorway pulling up short when the hallway she had been expecting turned out to be a locker room.  Sitting on top of a makeshift table with his back to the wall was cat man, the stuffed animal on the table next to him mimicking his pose.

“See Hiromu?  I told you that you make good bait,” A masculine voice said from behind her, making Miyuki jump.  She spun around eyes widening at the beautiful man who was leaning against the now closed door.  

“Bait?”  She stuttered out making the man smirk with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes bait.  He did lure you here didn’t he?  Made you chase him all through the arena like a bitch in heat?”   He mocked.  “Made you barge right into our private locker room without so much as a courtesy knock?"

Well, guess what?  You're in our territory and you’re in trouble now.” 

“I’m sorry,” Miyuki apologized. “I didn’t know.  I thought this was just another hallway.  He had led me down so many and I was trying to keep up.”  She trailed off as the man smiled coldly at her.

“And why were you so desperately following my friend?”  He asked.  

“I, I don’t know.” She responded quietly, not really having an answer for him. She had felt almost compelled to follow the man she now knew as Hiromu.  

“What do you think Hiromu?”  He asked.   “Why do you think she followed you?”

Hiromu smiled, tongue darting out and licking his lips as he eyed her.  “Well Sanada, I think she wanted to fuck me.” Hiromu said, dragging his eyes over her curves with a lecherous grin on his face as Miyuki spun back around to face him.  Sanada moved away from the door, circling to the front of the intruder and giving her a thorough once over.  

“Is that true little one? Did you follow Hiromu in order to fuck him?” Sanada asked with a smirk.  Despite the instant denial that sprang to her lips Sanada read signs of desire in her body language.  From the shifting on her feet to press her thighs together to the parted lips and panting breaths.  Deny it though she might, she was definitely into fucking Hiromu. And judging by the way her eyes darted over him, she wasn’t adverse to fucking Sanada either.    

“I don’t believe you,” Sanada said with a shake of his head. “You chase him through hallways, through the whole fucking arena and invade our personal space and you expect me to believe you don’t want his dick?”  He scoffed.

"Bullshit."

Miyuki’s eyes darted between the two men quite unsure how to handle the situation she had found herself in.  She told herself she had only followed Hiromu because she was fascinated by the cat, but maybe; if she was being honest, she could admit that she had been attracted to him.  

“You’re amongst friends here beautiful girl,” Hiromu spoke up pausing at the snort that escaped from Sanada.

“Okay, I’m your friend,” He amended.  “Just admit you want me and I’ll make you feel so good.” Hiromu slid of the table to join Sanada in front of Miyuki casting a sideways glance at his friend.   “If you want I’m sure Sanada will be happy to join in.  Though he probably won’t be very nice about it.”

Sanada didn’t bother rebutting that statement, simply nodding his head in agreement. He was who he was.

“Both of you?”  Miyuki asked surprised, eyes darting back and forth between them.  “At the same time?”  She was scandalized yet intrigued at the same time.  It wasn’t like anyone would know, and she may never have an opportunity like this again.  Her morals were warring with her desires, her want for the two handsome men flooding her senses.  

“Yes!” Hiromu shouted excitedly moving behind her and placing his hand lightly on her hip. “It will be like good cop, bad cop. Only naked.”  

“Jesus Hiromu,” Sanada chuckled shaking his head at the man’s antics.  “Let’s just fucking do this so I can get my dick wet.”

“He’s the bad cop,” Hiromu whispered into Miyuki’s ear making her giggle as her eyes followed Sanada’s movements as he began stripping off his clothing revealing his muscular upper body to her view.  She tensed when Hiromu’s hands reached to the top button of her blouse, nerves returning full force.

 “C’mon honey, let us make you feel good.”  He murmured while Sanada rolled his eyes.

“Either get naked or get the fuck out.”  Sanada said impatiently making Hiromu frown at him.

“Sanada-san, behave!”  Hiromu chastised. “You’re going to ruin this.”  Turning his attention back to Miyuki, Hiromu kissed her ear softly, fingers playing with the button as he spoke to her.  

“I told you he’s an asshole.”  Hiromu said. “But he’s an asshole that’s good at fucking.  You won’t be disappointed.  So what do you say princess, can I get you naked for us?”  He cajoled, hiding his victorious smirk when she nodded yes.

“Bout fucking time.”  Sanadaa mumbled, hands reaching for the buckle of his belt as he began stripping the remainder of his clothing off.  Naked before her he slowly stroked his  cock as Hiromu undressed Miyuki, unbuttoning her blouse and sliding it off her shoulders then freeing her breasts from her bra and dropping it to the floor with the discarded shirt.    Her skirt and panties soon followed leaving her naked to their gazes.  Sanada moved towards a chair in the corner, sinking into its cushions and motioning to Miyuki to follow as Hiromu began stripping.

“Get on your knees. I want my cock down your throat.”   He demanded smiling as she obeyed without hesitation.   He grunted as his cock slid into her mouth, her tongue stroking the underside of his dick while Sanadaa leaned against the back of the chair arms spread on the arm rests as he enjoyed her talented tongue.   “As shy as you were acting, you’re really good with your tongue.”  He commented as he watched Hiromu approach her from the back.  

“Get your ass in the air sweetheart,” Hiromu said lowering himself onto his back as she got onto all fours.  Once he was situated underneath her, Hiromu pulled her hips downwards until her pussy was at his mouth.  Miyuki moaned as Hiromu’s tongue came in contact with her clit sensations of pleasure jolting through her body.

“Don’t forget about my dick.”  Sanada reminded. “You don’t make me feel good, he doesn’t make you feel good.”  

‘That’s right baby, make Sanada happy and I’ll make you happy.” Hiromu promised before burying his tongue deeply inside her.     Miyuki ground her hips down on his face as she concentrated on sucking Sanada deep into her mouth, bobbing her head along his length and working her tongue on his shaft as her little hands wrapped around the base of his cock and stroked it. When she was close to climax, hips bucking trying to create more friction Hiromu withdrew from her, making her whine around Sanada’s cock as he rose to his feet.  

“Your choice Hiro, you want pussy or mouth?”  Sanada told his friend.  Hiromu pursed his lips in consideration.

“Mouth first. Then pussy.” He said decisively after a moment’s thought.  

“Get up and get your pussy on my dick.”  Sanada sharply commanded Miyuki who scrambled to her feet in front of him. “Face out so you can suck Hiromu while I fuck you.”  He told her, quickly settling her down on his cock once she was in position.  

“You so wet, Hiromu ate your pussy good, didn’t he?” Sanada asked as he pushed into her.

“Yes,” She moaned. “I want to come.”  

“Well see about that. You don’t get to come until we say so.”  Sanada said before pushing her head forward to Hiromu’s waiting cock.  

Sounds of grunts and moans filled the room as Sanada gripped her hips, pounding up into her pussy which in turn forced her mouth down Hiromu’s cock as his hands tangled in her hair.  

“You’re right Sanada she is very good with her mouth.”   Hiromu grunted as his hips thrust deep into her throat a smile appearing as she gagged a bit around him.  

“Use your tongue sweetie.”  He told her easing out of her mouth.   Her hands wrapped around his length holding him in place as she licked and kissed his cock swirling her tongue over his slit and popping the tip back into her mouth to deeply suck it.  

“I’m close Hiromu,” Sanada warned, a sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead as he held off his orgasm.  

“Switch her.”  Hiromu said pulling his cock away from her.  

Miyuki quickly found her mouth back on Sanada’s cock tasting her own juices as Hiromu slammed into her from behind.  Sanada’s hands buried themselves in her silky hair urging her to take him deeper as he approached his climax.   Hiromu reached around her waist, pushing his fingers against her clit and rubbing roughly as he fucked her, catching the little bundle of nerves between his fingers and squeezing it, making her groan loudly around Sanada’s cock in turn making him moan at the vibrations.

It wasn’t long before Sanada was ready to come, having already been on the edge and with Miyuki moaning along his length he was ready to blow.  Pulling out of her mouth he stroked his cock grunting as thick ropes of come blasted out, coating her cheeks and lips making her gasp in surprise.   Rubbing his thumb over the tip he collected the last droplets and smeared them over her lips with a satisfied smirk before turning away and redressing as Hiromu approached his climax.  As Sanada watched Hiromu gave a final thrust, stilling as his seed filled her pussy. With a content sigh he pulled out of her, wiping his tip on her ass before donning his own clothing and tossing her bra and panties to Miyuki.

Sanada gathered her clothes up in his arms, shoving the bundle at her and hustling her over to the door.  

“Better go get cleaned up before your boss starts looking for you.”  He said with a smile pushing her clad only in bra and panties out into the hallway.