#there are some bonds between a man and a woman that are deep and beautiful and caring but it keeps it’s always obvious when it’s platonic or

[embraceyourdestiny]

I’ve figured out how to word my contempt for “straight ships”

I don’t hate fictional straight couples outright. What I hate is the absence of effort and genuineness 90% of straight ships have.

Someone else’s love is not a right you are obligated to. Most straight couples are written with zero effort to earn the love they have. Because many straight creators think there is no work to be done. That a straight man and a straight women being together is inherent. No work is needed to be done because it’s expected.

And I hate that.

I hate it with any relationship, I like relationships because they have depth, but I particularly hate it with straight couples because that is the “normal” mindset towards it. It either happens as a man expects a woman to fall to his feet without doing anything for her or a woman expects a man to throw his life on the line because that’s what is “supposed” to happen and that is so gross to me. That’s not what love is.

Usually I dislike the straight pairings in stories because they are that. You don’t see the two people grow, together or on their own. They don’t prove themselves worthy of the others love, they think it’s something they are granted, have a right to. I don’t usually demand “evidence” for ships because it’s all make believe and for fun but I will not like most thrown together straight ships because of this very thought. There’s no reality to their bond. They do not like even like each other most of the time, and somehow I am supposed to suspend believe and think the most average or even terrible and bland straight relationship is the greatest love story of all time, every time I see it?

Some of my most special ships are between a man and a woman and sometimes I imagine they as straight but they are special because of the journey they went on together and I witnessed them experience that. Or they just have so much genuine love for each other, even if I didn’t see them get together I can still feel their affectionate in all they do. They were that well written that I couldn’t possibly deny the obvious love they have for each other.

Also. I’m gay as FUCK. The most cisheteronormative emotionally constipated strangers-at-best straight pairing will never appeal to me because I have zero stakes or relatability in that. They have no love for each other, no kind of bond or understanding or similar place in the world that lets them understand and feel and devote. They are noting to each other and therefore nothing to me.

[sophswritingthings]

Can we get a Mizu thing in like the soulmate universe? I don’t really care what soulmate trope it is, but reader and Mizu are soulmates and also complete and utter opposites

pairing: soulmate au!mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): light swearing

a/n: me running through ideas in my head, trying to find out if the red string of fate also pertains to japanese legends and low and behold

summary: mizu never believed in soulmates, never believed in the little red string around her pinky. that was, til she met you.

word count: 953 words / 5,164 characters

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mizu never believed in "soulmates", per say, she always believed that you chose who you loved. love was set in stone, to her, love was made and festered from a bond.

not that she thought that could ever happen to her.

but she still didn't believe in it; no matter what the red string around her finger said or not.

"I will not be tied to... some string."

that's what she would always tell everyone, when they told her how lucky she was, that she someone out there--waiting for her to find them.

even though she didn't believe in it, she did sometimes wonder to herself: was this person she was so "destined" to be with, actually out there?

she didn't think they were, until she met you.

she'd stumbled across you during her travels, when she stopped on her way to tanabe island.

you were a woman, first and foremost. to which, she expected.

the thing that stunned her more, though--

--was that you were married, settled down with a child.

she knew it was you, because the string had stopped stretching. the strings length had shortened--and stopped right at your feet.

your eyes were wide as you looked at her, sparkling. your baby was cradled in your arms, your heart pumping underneath your kimono as you looked at her.

you never thought your husband was your soulmate. you always knew your soulmate was someone else; and yet you'd settled down with him, because that's what was best, wasn't it?

the cord connecting you had always been tangled, representing the boundaries that lay between the two of you. your marriage. her vow.

yet the cord would never break; and, maybe someday, the cord would untangle.

"hello," you whispered softly. your voice was soft; it was kind, it was gentle. "this--this is weird."

"I agree," her breath was short and a bit rapid, her voice raspy. she hadn't expected her string to be connected to such a beautiful woman.

"so.. my soulmate is a samurai," you nod to yourself. "and.. what is your name?"

"mizu," she replied.

"water. wave," you murmur to yourself. the meaning of her name seemed pretty fitting, given the situation. "(y/n)."

"well, it is nice to meet you, (y/n)," she bows to you. "but I must be on my way."

your eyebrows furrow, a bit, at her words, "you're going to leave? but were--"

she puts her hand up, stopping you mid sentence, "I know what we are.. considered, but I don't have time for any of this. I am dedicated to other prospects, and you seem to be settled down, even without your "soulmate". I must go."

you had just found your soulmate, your ticket out of your loveless marriage--the person you had been waiting for, for all these years, and she was just going to leave you?

"may I inquire what's so important?" you narrow your eyes, gently rocking your child in your arms.

"my vow," she slowly slides ff her glasses, to reveal the pools of blue that rest under them, "I have vowed to kill all white man at the time of my birth."

you take a few steps back.

she was half white; what you had been taught to be an onryō your entire life. and she was connected to your string.

she wasn't scary. she didn't seem all bad; dedicated, is all..

"right," you whisper, holding your young child close to your chest. it isn't that you thought mizu would hurt your child, but it was that instinctive and primal fear that you had, deep down.

seeing you worried that she'd hurt you, or your child, made her wince deep down. on the surface, she showed now reaction--she was used to it, at this point.

but for some reason, she cared what you thought about her. she had never been so concerned of her perception until this moment.

"maybe I will see you another time," she took steps backward, keeping her distance from you. "for now, this is our goodbye."

you took in a little breath, retreating back into the guarded fence of your house. it reminded her of her old home, a little. and she saw a little of herself in you.

but she supposed that made sense. you were connected to her by a little string.

"goodbye," you murmured, hearing your husband ruffling around in your house. you glanced over your shoulder, "I better go, then. before he sees me talking to you."

"right." she sighed. her feet were hesitant to leave you; for some reason she didn't want to. that damn string was doing something to her mind; she had the frustrated urge to snap it in half. but she knew it wouldn't break, no matter how hard she tried. "go on."

her blue eyes watched you retreat back into your house, sliding her glasses back on her face and making her way down the road.

her thoughts swirled with the image of you. that child held in your arms, your almost scared expression when she revealed her demon blue eyes.

she didn't want you to be scared of her. not in the slightest. for some reason, her heart dropped into her gut at the idea.

why did she all of a sudden care about this fucking string?

why did her heart drop thinking she could never have you? because she couldn't.

the string was tangled, the string would always be tangled, a knotted mess. a mess of knots that you, nor her, would ever be able to untangle.

there was so many things in your way; in her way to, maybe, having someone who cared for. and someone she could care for.

you'd just... have to wait and see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: gonna make a part 2 cuz my ass has ideas

[teewritessmth]

Babysitting Bonds

(Sharky x f! reader)

Summary : You call Sharky over to film a vlog with you where he helps you babysit your cousins. But on thing leads to another as you find yourself on top of him.

Warnings : kids, mentions of kissing, thunderstorm, spice if you squint

You had a brilliant idea for a new video. Your uncle and aunt were going to go and celebrate their marriage anniversary and had no where to leave their little kids. You volunteered to babysit those 3 little angels so they could spend their much needed quality time.

You call up Sharky's number, and tell him to pull over to your house. The internet loved your friendship, some even said you two would make a great couple. Truth be told, you've liked Sharky for a really long time. Even when he was making those rap battle videos with Chunkz and darkest. You smile remembering the time you had roasted the living hell out of darkest and Sharky in Chunz's video. Aah the good old days.

Sharky arrives within 20 minutes. "Hey Y/n, what are we doing today?". Sharky pulls you to a side hug and his eyes widen when he sees three little toddler run towards him. Before he makes a comment, you start recording-

"Hey guys welcome back, I'm here with Sharky today and we will be babysitting my cousins".

The camera zooms to Sharky's shocked face, who still hasn't recovered from the surprise of being greeted by three tiny humans.

"I have been lied to, I thought we were gonna do some random video but turns out Y/n wanted me to come and provide daycare service". Sharky laughs and looks at your cousins, they looked so similar to you. He could find some traces of similarity between your features compared to your cousins.

You smile and pat his arm, "We give the internet what they want Sharky, you and me in a vid reaches the max amount of views on my channel".

"if you do what the internet tells you to, are you gonna date me?". Sharky retorts, looking deep into your eyes. Your breath gets cut off for a second as you look at that beautiful man infront of you. Before you can respond, Sharky plays 'Die for you' by weeknd and doubles down on the floor laughing. You force out a bitter chuckle and try to change the topic.

"Well we're not going to be doing anything crazy really, just gonna give these 3 some food and spend the rest of the day playing with them". You tell the camera.

Sharky nods, "I'm gonna ace this, I love kids".

"Ayo?!". You raise an eyebrow.

"Oh my days, not like that Y/n".

The rest of the day passes by in a flash. the kids seemed to love Sharky. It was heartwarming to see him be so good with kids, you know he'd make an absolutely wonderful father. Bittersweet feelings creep into your heart realizing Sharky would never return what you felt for him. Your mood shifts in the midst of brushing your cousin's hair.

"Hey, what's with the sad face. C'mon we have the company of three cute children, smile". Sharky pinches your cheeks.

You wrap up the rest of the video by reading them a bedtime story and eventually tucking them in.

"Well, that's it for today. The kids are asleep and I'm glad they were on their best behavior today-". Your words get abruptly cut off by the sound of thunder.

"There you go, now a storm's on the way". Sharky takes the camera from your hands and finishes the outro.

"Miss y/n is shocked by the thunder at this time but I'll wrap up for her. Thank you for watching me get bullied by a woman in her 20's and 3 very adorable children. Subscribe to the betasquad and my channel. We'll see ya soon". He turns the camera off and looks at you, grinning ear to ear. This might just be one of my favourite videos with you yet.

"Yeah?". You reply looking down, pretending to be busy with something else.

Sharky grabs your hands and makes you sit on the couch. "Y/n you've been acting strange all day, what happened?".

"Nothing happened Sharky let it go. Also I'm not letting you drive back in this weather." You look up at the man who already had his keys in his hand.

"Y/n it's fine really, I don't want to be a burden right now. I can drive". He starts walking out, but you pull him back to the the living room.

"Are you really that uncomfortable around me that you're willing to drive in the storm?".

Sharky freezes, "What?! No!. I'm not uncomfortable around you, I just didn't want to be a weight at this point in the night".

"You're not arguing with me on this". You reach to grab his keys but he has them lifted up high. You both get knotted up as you try reaching for his keys and he lifts them higher.

Amidst this, one of the kids get out of bed and walk past Sharky scaring the life out of him, grabs his teddy and goes to bed.

Sharky falls back on the couch, pulling you along with him.

You initial reaction is pure shock and horror as you stare at the man. Your face gets flushed, realizing no one is making any effort to get up. He looks at you, his eyes drifting over to your lips. He tightens his arms around you and shuffles on the couch, relaxing into the cushions.

"Here, I'll drop my keys". He tosses them on the table, still maintaining eye contact with you, strong arms draped around your waist. He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand and he cups the side of your face. "That's why I didn't want to stay, now I gotaa tell you how I feel".

That was all the confirmation you needed. You hold his face and kiss him. He sits up and puts you on his lap, his hands holding your waist while you kiss him, full of need and desire.

He whispers against your lips, "I love you so much Y/n, I always have. I'm sorry for being such a bitch today".

"I love you too Sharky, so so much. Now stop talking and kiss me". You smile and kiss his cheek.

He hoists you up and takes you to your bedroom and locks the door.

God, was Sharky glad that kid needed his teddy tonight.

[microwaveable-squish-cheese13]

🌀 promises ..

!!

this is js sm else i had in my notes too, figured id post this one since the other one didn't completely fail 😼

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley + fem!civilian!reader

WARNINGS: mentions of killing and stuff

...

you weren't pretty.

no, no...

not in his eyes. god no.

you weren't pretty.

beautiful, sure. that's a word for it. but not what he would describe you as.

you were like the summer sun on his skin, like the ripples in the water he would see at the pool he went to as a kid. you were like freezing cold water on a hot summer night.

you were like the breeze in the trees. the songs the birds would sing, only for the crickets and frogs to take over once Mother Moon rose to bathe him in her light.

you were like the reflection of the stars in his mother's eyes. the smell of strawberries in his family's kitchen.

you were his best memory.

you know how people say that you correlate certain people to certain things?

yeah.

you were everything to simon.

he saw you in everything the earth had to offer.

the way the sun set and the way it rose- it reminded him of you. of the way it would look on your skin, painting it a golden color for him to cherish.

the way the crickets chirped late at night reminded him of that one time you said that sound comforted you- helped you sleep. he smiled after that. that was the very first time you saw him smile so genuinely.

vanilla? you. simon could almost hear you tell him that vanilla was your favorite scent at some mom and pop store (you've already told him eight thousand times before). every time he would just laugh and say "noted."

these are the little things. the little itty bitty things that keep him alive.

and at night when the guns roared and his life was on a wire, he would think of these things. when his own blood smeared over his skin, tainting his body and his mind with things you'd probably leave him for.

when the head of another human was under his gun, you were what he thought of. how this action was for you- to get home to you.

if he didn't shoot this man, then how did he know this man wouldn't turn on him and keep him from fulfilling his promise to you?

"just.. come home. please?" you had whispered the night he left. simon only nodded, slipping on his mask and sighing.

"always, love. forever and always. promise."

and he'd be damned if he broke that fucking promise.

even as bullet left his gun with a shuddering snap and the man fell dead under him, he kept reminding himself this was for you. all of this pain and suffering he held on his shoulders was for you.

the woman he intended to marry.

the woman he wanted to grow old with.

the woman he would never break a promise to. never in his goddamn life.

...

sometimes when he gets home he's scared to see you.

he's not scared of you. never.

he's scared of the chance that maybe you'd finally realize all the lives he holds on his hands, that maybe when you fuck late at night that the blood on his hands will shine through and stain your beautiful skin.

stain and ruin the last perfect thing he has in his life.

he's scared that maybe, you'll realize that you're sleeping with and loving a murderer. maybe you'll turn him away once you see the blood on the mask he tries desperately to hide from you. he didn't want Ghost and Simon to mingle.

you got Simon. you never got Ghost.

he's scared that when he grows the balls to drop to one knee and solidify the bond between you that you'll turn him down. that you'll frown in disgust at this war criminal for even assuming that you'd love a creature such as him.

but deep down, he knows that's all irrational. that you'd never do such sinful things. say such hurtful things.

and he's right. you'd never.

because you were as hopelessly in love with him as he was with you.

and you promised it to him.

"i love you." were the words uttered late into the night as they laid in the shadows of their bedroom. simon almost cried every time you said that to him. the last time he'd heard that was when his nephew told it to him.

now it was you saying those three words.

three words that could tear a man like him

down to his last thread. "i love you too."

a few heartbeats later, he spoke again.

"you promise?" his voice was so soft you thought you imagined it. you tilted your head up at him. "what?"

"you promise that you love me?"

it tore him apart to ask it. it sounded to him like he was questioning your affection. but you knew he wasn't.

"yeah." you smiled, laying your head back on his shoulder.

the moon was high, smiling down and shining her light through the glass and onto them in neat squares through the window.

the crickets chirped, and the frogs croaked back as they sung their songs to the stars. somewhere out there water rippled and a dove cried, pleading out into the night about a tragedy mankind will never know about.

"i promise."

[darklinsblog]

Queen Mother | Sandman Imagine

Summary: Being Morpheus’ wife and Queen to a beautiful realm, you became a mother figure to all your subjects.

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Request: Yes

Author’s note: Jfc I didn’t realize until now how hard it can be to find a GIF of this man smiling we love the wet emo cat but it makes my job harder when doing fluffy stuff like this 😩🤚🏼

When Morpheus and you got married, you understood better than anyone everything you were marrying into. Yes, you were marrying Morpheus, but you were also marrying the whole universe and the people of the Dreaming.

To Morpheus it was surprising how you understood and took all that responsibilities with such grace and modesty he felt proud of calling you his.

You were immediately involved in anything that had to do with the kingdom, you were interested in hearing the people from the realm, and the people from the Dreaming felt comforted as their queen made them feel important and heard.

While your husband took care of his creations and safeguarding the sleep of the whole world, you would visit your subjects, and engage with them.

Everyone considered you so important to the realm. You had become a mother figure to people around you, a role model, a safe place to go to.

Morpheus was a great king, everyone respected him. But he was undoubtedly, an imposing and dark presence, which most of the time scared people.

But you were a heartwarming person, someone approachable, someone who you wanted to tell your secrets to.

The King of Dreams was happy that his people now had you, as you had become the bridge of communication between him and his subjects.

Everyone came running to you as soon as they saw you, giving you countless gifts or just waiting to greet you and wish you a good day.

You had earned the name of Queen Mother due to the deep affection they had for you, it was also a way of acknowledging the bond you had with everyone.

This was a little of a shock to you, being recognized as a mother figure was a big deal but you grew fond to it; but Morpheus hadn’t heard this specific popular nickname of yours.

One day, when he had finally made some time clear in his agenda to be with his wife, you two decided to go on a long walk around the kingdom and as soon as people saw you the name started coming out.

“Good evening, Queen Mother!”

“Lovely day today, Queen Mother”

Your lovely husband was confused at first, but seeing how you responded, he was quick to realize they were talking to you, he chuckled under his breathe, trying to hold back the smile that was forming in his lips.

“What?” You asked, giggling yourself and you were weak to your husband’s contagious laugh.

“Nothing, my dear… It just seems to me that now I will have to compete for your attention against my whole kingdom” he teased, making you roll your eyes

“Well, what can I say? I am a charming woman”

“Indeed, you are. But truly, I am glad that our kingdom adore you as do I, of course. You have been nothing but a blessing to me and the realm itself”

You appreciated such words from your husband, because you knew he spoke in all honesty and with his heart, something you loved about him. There were no words to express your gratitude to this people and your spouse, as, it had been a blessing for you as well.

So, you could only smile, laying your head softly on Morpheus’ shoulder as you continued to walk hand in hand and he kissed your forehead lovingly.

[sugarzandsweetz]

Lost Love (Nuada x OC)

Long before the battle of the golden army, Nuada loved a human. But they were taken away from him, causing his hatred for humanity to grow stronger

______________________________________________

Many Many Years Ago

A smile rests upon the woman's face as she hums to herself. Feeling the soft breeze of spring press against her face has never felt so calming. In her hands, she busies herself with making a crown out of the flowers that surround her.

Her nimble fingers work expertly in crafting the crown. Looping the stems and locking them together to hold the flowers close. Thorns prick at her fingers but she doesn't mind. Some of the most beautiful things can be made through pain.

Soon, her humming becomes singing.

"A man came across this old tower one day,

It was straight like from a book he once read,

He lifted his head up and saw this young lady and here is what the lady said,"

Lifting her head up, the woman picks up her voice and sings louder.

"Moi Je M'appelle Mademoiselle Noir, et comme vous pouvez le voir, je ne souris, ni ris, ni vis.

Et c'est tout ce qu'elle a dit, di di di,"

As she works and sings, she hears the crunch of approaching footsteps. They are soft, almost unable to be distinguished. But she can hear them.

The smile grows wider on the woman's face; she doesn't turn around. Because she knew who it was. She ceases her singing and waits quietly as she continues her threading.

The footsteps grow louder and louder until they stop right behind her.

"What are you doing, Isabella?" asked the soft voice of her lover.

"Waiting for you, your highness." Isabella said. "I busied myself with making a flower crown."

A soft chuckle escapes her lover's mouth as they sit themself down beside Isabella. He rests his hand on Isabella's shoulder, giving it a rub.

"It looks beautiful, just like you."

Isabella's face becomes flushed at his compliment. She turns away from her work to look at her lover.

A handsome elf sits beside her. Long platinum blond hair with black tips, porcelain white skin, black lips, and beautiful golden eyes. He is dressed in elegant robes with armor clasped over them. On his hips rested two swords strapped to his waist.

A true beauty for elven people but terrifying for humans. To Isabella, he is beautiful.

"You flatter me, good sir." she said with a giggle.

"Enough pleasantries, Belle. You don't need to be so formal with me, I've told you again and again." he said amused.

"I know, Nuada. I just feel like I must be formal as you are royalty and I am a mere human commoner." Isabella said with a sad frown.

Nuada doesn't allow her to be sad as he kisses Isabella's forehead. His lips are cool against her warm skin. The touch of his lips send butterflies to flutter in the woman's stomach. Any touch from Nuada makes her so giddy.

"I love you for who you are, Isabella. Whether royalty or commoner, I love you." Nuada assured her. Then he pulls Isabella into a deep, tender kiss.

The coupling of the elven prince and human is a well-kept secret. Only Nuada's twin sister, who holds a soul bond with her brother, knows about Isabella. In fact, Nuala is fond of Isabella and is happy for her brother.

When Nuada and Isabella first met, it was by accident.

It was the start of the war between the elves and humans. The border between the two realms were watched closely so that no one crossed. The lands were becoming thick with blood and bodies.

Isabella lives in a small cottage close to the border. She made a living of selling food and jewelry in the village markets. Unlike most humans, Isabella wasn't afraid of the fae people. In fact, she often helps pixies, trolls, and many other of the fae people.

About a year ago, Isabella took a stroll through the thick forest that was east of her home. She collected berries from bushes and material to use for her jewelry. Isabella kept to herself and made sure not to bother any creatures.

That is when she met Nuada.

Nuada is the general of the Bethmooran army and often does patrols along the border. If he ever comes across a human, he either kills them or makes sure they never come back. When he found Isabella collecting berries by a nearby pond, Nuada was transfixed by her beauty.

Isabella has long blonde hair that must be braided to keep it from touching the ground. Her eyes are bluer than the finest sapphires, skin as white as alabaster, and a smile that can dazzle the coldest of hearts.

Soon after Nuada spotted her, Isabella looks up from her pickings and spots Nuada. At first, she is surprised but soon smiles in greeting. It catches Nuada off guard as he is used to being feared by humans. And her smile almost made Nuada's heart stop beating.

Quickly, Nuada ignores his unfamiliar feelings and demands to know why Isabella is in elven territory. He expects her to grovel, to beg to spare her life. Instead, Isabella apologizes and explains that she is scavenging for food. She offers some berries as a peace offering but Nuada declines.

Nuada tells her to leave or she would face serious consequences.

Isabella doesn't complain and does as Nuada orders. Not before handing him a lily as a parting gift and an apology for intruding. Then she leaves.

After that day, it began a series of encounters between the two. Isabella would greet him, offer him food, and head off. She became an enigma to Nuada, intriguing him to pursue Isabella. Over time, the two became an odd pair of friends.

After a month, Nuada began to show affection for Isabella. He would shower Isabella in gifts such as jewels, the finest clothes, and trinkets he made. Isabella would only accept his trinkets as they were made by himself.

Isabella was surprised when Nuada asked permission to court her. She believed that he deserved better than her. The prince was next in line for the Bethmooran throne. A member of a royal family is better suited for Nuada.

Nuada refused to allow Isabella to believe this. He showers her in love and affection until Isabella didn't have to worry. It leads to the moment that they are in now. True love between star crossed lovers.

"How many times must I continue to assure you that I love you?" Nuada asked once they break away from their kiss.

"I'm sorry for being so insecure, Nuada. It's still hard to believe you possess such feelings for me." Isabella apologized.

Nuada pulls Isabella into a hug, pressing her head against his chest. Resting his chin on the top of her head, Nuada closes his eyes as he focuses on the woman in his arms. "I will love you to the end of time." he whispered softly.

His words warmed Isabella's heart as she listens to Nuada's heartbeat. It feels as if both their hearts were beating as one.

"I'll keep you to that." Isabella said with a soft laugh.

The two stay there in each other's arms, savoring this pleasant moment.

With the war between humans and elves growing hotter, it's been difficult for Nuada to have moments with Isabella. Commanding armies and working through strategy meetings took up most of his time. Only when it's night time or when Nuala fills in for him is when Nuada can escape. This morning is the first time in awhile since they've seen each other.

"Nuada," Isabella began suddenly.

"Yes, my love?" Nuada asked.

"I know this is a tough subject, but I want to know. Is there ever a possibility you'll end this war and make a truce?" Isabella asked hopefully. "I know your feelings for humans are conflicted but if you can love me, maybe you can put aside your hatred to bring a better world?"

Nuada tenses up. Isabella didn't have to look at his face to know what he is feeling.

"Unlike you, the rest of humanity has a hole in their heart that is full of greed. It can't be filled. The choices they make are killing my people." Nuada responded. "If we don't stop the humans from taking more of the elven land, killing my people; they will keep doing so."

"What if you find a peaceful solution to this? Make a truce with the humans? No one wants this bloodshed. If you can make a truce that both sides agree to, all of this can end." Isabella said.

Isabella understood that Nuada's hatred for humans runs deep in his bones. Her kind has killed and taken so much from him. It's shocking that he fell for Isabella.

"The humans will never uphold any truce."

"There are those who will. You just have to look."

Nuada glances down at his love and gives Isabella a warm smile. "I didn't have to look for you." he said.

The two smile and share another loving kiss. The kiss spreads warmth through their bodies.

"Will you consider it, at least? I don't want to live in a world where I might die the next day." Isabella said, fearfully. She takes Nuada's calloused hands and hold them tightly. "I wish to live in a world with you by my side." she said.

"Then be by my side." Nuada said suddenly.

"What?" Isabella asked, caught off guard.

"I want you to be by my side, forever and always." Nuada said, taking something out of his pocket and presenting it to Isabella.

A gasp escapes Isabella's lips when she discovers the item to be a ring. The band is made of pure silver. A sapphire diamond rests upon silver flower petals that curl around the diamond like a sleeping flower.

A truly beautiful sight that Isabella has never seen before.

"Isabella Rosemary, will you marry me?" Nuada asked with a hopeful smile on his face.

Isabella stares at him in shock but soon breaks out into a big smile. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Isabella repeated happily. Nuada smiles as he slips the ring upon Isabella's ring finger.

"With this ring, I promise to make you the happiest woman. I will love you to the end of time." Nuada promised. He kisses the ring as a sign of promise. "And I promise to bring peace to humans and the fae people." he added.

Happy tears are streaming down Isabella's face, making her eyes shine bright. "I love you." Isabella whispered.

"I love you too." Nuada whispered back.

Their sweet and tender moment ends abruptly when Isabella lets out a gasp. A look of shock is on her face as blood slips through her lips.

"Isabella . . .?" Nuada asked in worry.

Isabella's chest blooms red. The thick stench of blood fills the air.

Isabella falls forward; Nuada catches her. He looks over her shoulder and finds an arrow embedded in her back. It wasn't an elven arrow, that he recognized. It was an arrow designed by humans.

"No. No. No. No." Nuada repeated.

Nuada cradles Isabella in his arms. Fear is filling his entire body as he tries to keep Isabella awake. "Stay awake, Isabella. Please stay awake." Nuada begged, tears streaming down his face.

Blood trickles down Isabella's mouth as she chokes on her blood. Tears stream down her face as she mirrors the same fear that is on Nuada's face. Death is imminent.

"M-My love . . . " Isabella gurgled.

Slowly, she reaches up and places a bloody hand upon Nuada's cheek. Her skin is already growing cold.

"I will . . . love you forever . . . and always." Isabella whispered as she chokes on her blood.

"Isabella, just hang on a little longer. I'll get you help." Nuada promised.

"It's too late." Isabella said.

Isabella gives Nuada a bloody smile. "I'll wait for you, Nuada. Whether it is a day or the end of time, I will see you again." Isabella said, closing her eyes. Then she dies in the elf's arms.

Humans didn't turn to stone like Nuada's people. Isabella became limp in his arms and lays there as if she is sleeping. It's harder for Nuada as he hopes to see her wake up.

Tears stream down Nuada's face as it feels as if his heart shatters into millions of pieces. A bellowing cry tears out of his lips as Nuada holds Isabella to his chest. He buries his face into her hair, begging Isabella to wake up.

"This isn't supposed to happen." Nuada cried. "I was going to make you my wife. I was going to make you immortal so we can be together forever." he cried. He clutches the body of his fiancé and refuses to let go.

"Damn it. I missed him."

"Just shoot him again!"

Nuada ceases his crying when he hears new voices. His pain grows cold as it hardens into anger. He wipes the tears from his face as rage consumes him.

Carefully, Nuada lays Isabella down.

She is rested on top of the flowers. Her eyes are closed and looks as if she is sleeping. Isabella looks so beautiful resting on the flowers. If only she was napping.

Slowly, Nuada stands up. In his hand, he is holding the flower crown that Isabella made. It's stained in blood and is crushed but still intact. He refuses to let go of it.

The elf prince turns around and finds a group of human men. They aren't ordinary hunters. These men are soldiers. They were probably patrolling the border when they saw Nuada.

One of them was armed with a bow and arrow. That is the man who killed Nuada's love.

"You killed her." Nuada snarled.

"I was aiming for you, not her. A mere casualty in war." replied the human with a shrug.

His words enraged Nuada greatly. This man killed one of his own and doesn't even care.

"This proves that humans are horrible beings. You killed the only human that I truly cared for." Nuada snarled. "You don't deserve to live. You don't even deserve a merciless death."

The soldiers prepare their weapons. Swords are drawn and bows are notched back. The men believe they have the advantage as they are in a group.

Nuada draws out his swords and stands ready.

Wordlessly, Nuada lunges forward and attacks them. His blades slice through them all. Their throats were sliced open, giving them a slow, painful death. Blood gushes out in a spray as the humans collapse to the ground. The fear of dying is in their eyes. Surely, they regret killing Isabella now.

Usually, Nuada grants humans one mercy: a swift death. But he left these men to die by drowning in their blood. It's what they deserve.

Once they die from their injuries, Nuada turns back toward Isabella's prone form. His anger turns to despair.

"You were too pure for this world, Isabella. They didn't deserve you." Nuada whispered as he falls to his knees and hovers over Isabella. He places the bloody flower crown on her head. Resting his hands on her cheeks, Nuada leans in and gives Isabella a kiss on the lips.

"I will love you forever and always."

[fayes-fics]

The Gift

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x pregnantfem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. Your best friend Benedict gives you a gift in more ways than one.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, pregnant sex, pregnancy kink, dirty talk, vaginal sex, woman on top, friends with benefits, blindfold (not used during sex).

Word count: 5.1k

Build-a-blurb prompt: Benedict + smut + friends with benefits + pregnancy + blindfolds. From @queen-of-the-misfit-toys

Author's note: This is one of the prompts I got months ago in my 1k follower celebration. I’m certain this is not at all what you envisioned with this prompt; sorry, it's what my mind settled on. If you want sweeping romance, look elsewhere. This is intentionally naturalistic; I was striving for realism around the surprising development of intimacy between long-term close friends. I hope it works. Also, please excuse any inaccuracies around the pregnancy experience; I have no personal frame of reference, just what friends have shared.

It’s a rainy, dreary Wednesday when your life is turned around most unexpectedly. One of those nothing days that becomes something out of seemingly nowhere.

The week started like any other, really; the only unusual thing was on Monday when your friend Benedict asked for your spare set of keys to your flat; you acquiesced even though it seemed uncharacteristic. You trust him completely. He said something about wanting to babyproof some things for your impending arrival. The very real, very looming deadline of single parenthood is quite daunting. 

This is not how it was supposed to go.

The man who got you pregnant, your ex, turned out to be, well, spineless in the face of the reality he had willingly signed onto. He ran away to another woman around the fourth month of your pregnancy. Good riddance to bad rubbish in hindsight, traumatising as it was. 

Ever since, your friends have been the most incredible network of individuals to lean on for support, including the lovely Benedict Bridgerton. His room was opposite yours on the first day of uni, and you’ve been close friends ever since. He was rich, beautiful, bisexual and the most fun person you had ever met. You became firm friends on that first day, and you are still close fifteen years later. An initial flare of romantic feelings on your part metamorphosed into a deep, abiding mutual bond that is decidedly steadfast and deeply rooted in your life. 

So when you waddle, yes, sadly, you have reached the waddling stage of pregnancy now, into your flat after work that fateful Wednesday, you don’t expect to be greeted by an excited Benedict rocking on his heels and grinning like a madman.

“Ben…” you greet suspiciously.

“Hello!!” He fizzes with energy and enthusiastically helps you out of your coat. “How is bubs today?” He asks, nodding at your bump.

“Lovely but pain in the bum, as usual,” you answer, rubbing it. “Speaking of, it’s more like a pain in the bladder. I have to go wee. Sorry.”

“Please do,” he gestures to the bathroom door, and you step in.

“Don’t stay in the hallway,” you call through the door.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to hear me weeing!”

“Why not? Everyone does it,” he laughs, “but okay, okay, I’ll go to the kitchen. Need a drink?”

“Yeah, double espresso martini, please,” you jest as you fight with your clothing, deciding to just leave your maternity tights right there on the floor—a problem for future you.

“Haha,” he deadpans,  “water it is.”

“Fine,” you sigh.

When you emerge a minute later, he is holding out a glass of water just as you like, with a touch of ice and a wedge of lemon squeezed and then dropped in. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” you reach up and pat his cheek affectionately, taking the water and guzzling it slightly.

“I have a surprise for you,” his tone is jubilant.

“Oh yeah, what is it?”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you, am I?” he rolls his eyes with a chuckle and takes the glass from your hand, placing it aside.

He holds out his other hand, and there is… well, there’s a blindfold. You are very nonplussed.

“What is this about?” you ask, confused.

“I want you to wear this, please,” he smiles that trademark Benedict smile that still makes your insides melt all these years later. He knows it’s a weapon, and yet he still deploys it. You’d do anything he asks when he looks like that. And he bloody well knows it.

“Can I ask some questions first?”

“Of course.”

“Are we leaving the flat again? Cos if we are, you’ll have to fight my shoes back onto my bloody feet. I don’t have the energy.”

“No, we are staying right here.”

“Ok, next question, do you promise not to blindfold me and then just leave? I’ll be pissed off,” you warn.

“That’s a shitty thing to do to anyone,” he frowns, “I would never do that,” he vows.

“As if you couldn’t guess, that question comes from bitter experience,” you huff wryly. 

“Who? I will track them down and kick them in the nuts.” Funny how he instantly knows it’s about a man. His jaw is ticked, and his usual chivalry has your heart bloom just a fraction.

“You’re a great friend,” you obfuscate, patting his hand. Not wanting to add fuel to the hindsight red flag fire that is your ex, you change tack. “Come on then, let's do this.”

You allow him to put the blindfold on you; he is so gentle as he does so, ensuring your hair does not catch on the elastic. Just that simple, thoughtful thing has you slightly maudlin; pregnancy is undoubtedly an emotional rollercoaster. Last week you cried at a bus stop poster. Not an elegantly shed tear, full-on tears rolling. Everyone else waiting at the stop seemed to move away a few feet, their eyes saying, ‘Beware of strange pregnant lady’. His warm hand slots into yours, bringing you back to the present. 

“Hey, no peeking!” he murmurs as you tilt your head back and attempt to look under the blindfold.

“What is going on, Benedict?” you whisper, the darkness suddenly making you quiet and a strange butterflies sensation in your belly as he leads you gently by the hand across your flat.

“I told you I have a present for you, and I wanted it to be a surprise,” he answers enigmatically.

“You really had to blindfold me?” you shoot back.

“Yes, it's all part of the surprise,” he chuckles.

He opens the door to what you think is your guest room. You are temporarily confused when the number of steps he takes usually would mean you’d have walked right into your guest bed by now. The very one he often crashes in. It reminds you, you need to get some quotes for turning this room into a nursery before it’s too late. Then he interrupts your once again wayward train of thought.

“I’ve been wondering for a long time what gift I can give you for this brave new adventure you are embarking on,” he says with a sincerity that intrigues you. “I wanted it to be something lasting and meaningful, and this is what I came up with. I hope you like it.”

His tone almost seems nervous as he tugs at the blindfold and removes it from your face.

“Surprise!”  he calls quietly and steps back with a flourish.

Your eyes squint as you adjust then...

Speechless.

Utterly speechless.

He has not babyproofed your flat—the wonderful arsehole has built you a nursery.

Gone are all the usual contents of the room; in their place is what looks like every piece on your wishlist—the crib, the changing table, the wardrobe, the rocking chair, and even the rug, curtains and lamps you wanted. 

But what catches your eye most is the walls. On that plain light beige canvas, he has handpainted the most gorgeous animal safari in muted, soft tones, rounded, adorable cartoon versions of elephants, giraffes, big cats, antelope and hippos interspersed amongst trees, grasslands and watering holes. It is simply breathtaking—overwhelming and so magnificent.

“Now I can’t take full credit,” he explains meekly. “We all pitched in to buy the items, and I had some people deliver and assemble it today as I painted.”

You can’t help it. You start to sob. Not sweet, ladylike tears, body-wracking ugly sobs. You have to grab his arm to stay on your feet.

“Oh god, are you ok?” his tone filled with concern, “shit, was this wrong?”

“No, no, no, no, no!! Ben,” you cry, “this is… I have no words; I just…” you start to sob again, incapable of words, tears rolling down your cheek. “This is so wonderful,” you hiccup, “look at your stunning artwork Ben; this is so, so exquisite. I… I don't deserve this.”

“Like hell you don’t,” he counters, “you are the bravest person I know; this is nothing.”

You throw your arms around him, not caring, just wanting to convey your gratitude.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” squeezing him hard as you chant into the soft skin of his neck, leaving a damp patch from your tears.

His arms wrap as tight as they can with your bump in the way, and he murmurs you are welcome in your ear so sweetly it’s impossible to resist what you do next.

You grab his jaw, push up onto your tiptoes and land a kiss squarely on his lips. You can’t blame alcohol for this irrational behaviour (your usual reason for such things); instead, you can blame pregnancy hormones, which is precisely what you will do once you pull away. But the greedy part of you just wants to take from him for a moment, to linger, to enjoy a kiss; god knows it's been months since you had one, and he doesn’t seem to be fighting you off. In fact, he is kissing you back with surprising fervour. Your lips move together, and it feels phenomenal, like the opening few bars of a delightful symphony.

“Sorry,” you whisper onto his lips, and then you fall back to your flat feet. “I’m so… god, that wasn’t at all appropriate. But no one has ever done anything this incredible for me my whole life, and I… I didn’t know how to react. Please accept my apologies.”

You finally look up at him again, and there is something in his eyes that compels you not to look away.

“No,” he mutters, staring you down.

“No, what?”

“No, I won't accept your apology.”

You look horrified for a split second. “Ben, please, I reacted wrong, I know, but I’m pregnant and very emotional. I...”

“I won’t accept your apology,” he cuts in, “because you did nothing wrong.”

“But I kissed you! That was so inappropriate of me!” you bemoan.

“If that’s true, Then I’m really going to have to apologise for this…” and that’s all the warning you get before his lips are on yours again.

And your world stops. Then it spins like a Waltzer. You realise you are frozen in shock, so you respond before he can pull away. Throw yourself into kissing him back, making a noise you are sure you've never made, wanton and desirous. Your whole body feels alight and electric as his hands pull you into him, sweeping down your back.

“Ben, I…” you stutter onto his lips as he breaks away for air.

“Talk later,” he urges, and you silently nod to agree before he dives back in. 

You are not going to look this gift horse in the mouth. You have been so, well, horny during your pregnancy. If someone flesh and blood, especially one this handsome, is going to kiss you and whatever else, there is no way you want to do anything to impede it. You know him so well that you can tell he is as surprised by his actions as you are. But to his credit, he is going with it. Indeed going for it in a way that makes you irrationally jealous of every person he has kissed before. He knows exactly how to make you a breathless mess in his arms. 

“Ben…” you begin as he starts kissing down your neck, the slide of his lips making your eyes close.

He gently shushes you. “I need you to know something important,” his breath is hot on your skin.

“Tell me,” you whisper, almost drunk on sensation.

He pulls away slightly as you reopen your eyes, which are undoubtedly glassy and unfocused.

“I didn’t do this,” he gestures around the room, “for this,” he gestures between you. “This is not a quid pro quo. But by god, am I happy this is happening,” he admits with an adorable grin.

“Noted” you grin back and pull his face back to yours, kissing him hotly.

“But I feel obliged to let you know; it’s been a while since I was with a woman,” he admits, almost sheepish. The humble way he says it tells you he is offering you sex. And by god, you want it.

“Ben, I haven't even so much as kissed anyone in months. This, anything frankly, is just perfect,” you confess between almost breathless kisses.

He gently, oh so gently, unties the bow at the back of your wrap dress, kissing you as he does so. When he whips the dress off your shoulders and flings it across the room, you can’t help the giggle that bubbles up inside; his charming, responding smile makes you want to swoon. 

“Are you sure? I look so…,” you fret as you stand before him, feeling vulnerable now in just your bra and knickers, “you can still say no…” you offer him an out.

“You look like what you are,” he says gently, his hands cupping your face as a thumb swipes your cheek, “a beautiful pregnant woman.” 

You want to dispute it; remind him you are waddling like a duck these days, but you don’t want him to stop. You want to push him to the ground and ride whatever he has going on under those jeans until you are both screaming.

“Stop,” you demure.

“I mean it.” 

As if to make you more comfortable, he quickly discards his t-shirt and slides off his jeans almost perfunctorily. You don’t even get to ogle him as he spins you around to face the full-length mirror on the back of the door. You see your body swollen and him standing behind you in underpants, slightly to one side. He looks stunning, all ropey thighs and toned arms. You feel like a hot air balloon standing before a racehorse.

“Look at yourself,” he orders quietly, hands on your shoulders, then slipping down to map your body. “My god, you look amazing. Powerful and womanly, you are bringing life into the world, and you look amazing doing it. Your skin is glowing.” A large hand runs low around the swell of your belly, cupping it. “I… didn't know it before, but I might have a thing for pregnant bodies. Or rather your pregnant body,” he admits, sounding almost ashamed. 

“I bet you say that to all the pregnant girls,” you murmur in jest, selfishly grabbing his hands and bringing them up to your breasts, his grip through the lacy bra just the most glorious feeling.

He chuckles at your words. “I'm just being honest,” he assures.

“Take off my bra Ben,” you appeal. The slide of his fingers under the clasp resting on your breastbone makes your skin hot and prickly. 

As he gently pulls the cups aside, his groan has you pushing back against him instinctually. In the mirror, you watch his awed gaze in the reflection as he cups your naked flesh this time. He only has to utter the word divine, and you are so desperate for him that you must have him immediately, a sweeping, powerful need that almost knocks the wind from you. You spin around in his arms and push up onto your tiptoes, kissing him hard.

“Lay down,” your request muffled into his mouth.

His sweet, almost shy grin, as he does as bidden, laying down on the soft rug, gives a warm glow under your ribs. He’s still your friend, even with whatever this is. 

“Do you mind if I turn off the lights?” Your request is a quiet thing.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,’ his reply soft and tinged with understanding. 

There is still the orange glow of the London sky filtering in after you flick the switch—it’s never truly dark in the city. You can see enough to easily stare down at his prone outline, toned and lithe, with a delicious-looking bulge straining in his underpants. You really can’t believe your luck.

“Oh god. Please take off your underwear,” it sounds like a whine from your lips, and you inhale sharply as he does exactly what you command. What springs free has your mouth watering, and you drop to your knees beside him. “Holy fuck Ben,” you breathe, your hand grabbing him, almost a reflex.

He gasps as you fist his cock, it’s warm and steely, and it’s been so many months since you handled one, and many years since one this size and pleasant, that before you know it, you are swinging a leg over and straddling him.

His little breathy moans and twitches as you pump and squeeze him are everything. 

“You are very good at this,” he whispers as you settle over his downy thighs.

“I’m sure you’ve had much better,” you demure.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he moans as you swipe a thumb over his leaking slit. You continue to work him, speeding up a little and squeezing. His feral noise instantly has you throbbing. “Why are your knickers still on?” He demands hotly, eyes meeting yours with a burning intensity.

“I…. am happy to just do this,” you stutter, still giving him an out.

“Y/n, if you want sex, even half as much as I do right now, you better decide before you take me too far,” he warns through slightly clenched teeth.

Somehow his honesty is refreshing. Of course, you want it; you are positively fizzing and so wet you could slide right off his thigh.

“Rip them, Ben,” you implore, guiding one of his hands to the seam at your hip.

“Honestly?!?”

“Yes fucking please,” you confirm, staring him down.

He pulls your hand off his cock, as if it’s too distracting, and the room echoes with the sound of lace being torn asunder.

“Fuck that is hot,” you mutter without realising it’s out loud.

He smirks and then hisses as he slides two fingers between your legs and feels just what he has wrought.

“Bloody hell, you are so wet.” he sounds almost taken aback, fingertips teasing your entrance as the heel of his palm presses against your clit.

“All you,” you state honestly, pulling his hand away and sucking on his soaked fingers as he lightly growls at you. 

“Condom?” his question is a touch frantic, but you shake your head, letting his fingers slip from your mouth. Your knowledge of his sexually responsible history regarding all his partners makes you trust he is clean. And it's not like accidental pregnancy is much of an issue. You want to feel him, skin on skin.

You shuffle, so you are lining up with his cock. Then it’s an eye-rolling, lip-biting, toe-curling stretch as he slips inside you. You take him in slowly, savouring each hot inch as you sink down. By the time your clit rests on his root, you are moaning, split open in the most fantastic, persistent way.

“Oh fuck,” you groan clit throbbing. “Fucking hell, you feel so fucking good,” you can’t stop the litany of swear words. 

His hands are a tight vice on your hipbones beneath your bump. "Please don’t move, y/n,” he gasps desperately, and he ripples inside you. “I…. I need a moment.”

You sit happily on him, getting used to the invasion, tracing patterns over his toned abdomen with your fingernails. “Someone has been to the gym,” you tease lightly, and he beams modestly, but you can see the traces of male pride there, pleased that you find him so physically attractive.

Then he gives you a nod, and you move gently, grabbing his hands as leverage as you raise up and sink down. The long exhale you let out tells how wondrous you find the stretch, the drag of his head over your walls, the heat and solid presence. You can’t glance down and watch as you like to, your bump obscuring everything, but you don't miss the way his eyes ping back and forth from your face to between your legs, watching himself disappear into your body, watching you fuck him.

There are no words for a while, just sighs, deep breaths, and gentle moans of satisfaction as you find a rhythm. Even with the baby on board, you have tried to keep up some level of cardio exercise that you are particularly grateful for now. Although you already know you would ride his cock until your thighs cramp, and your abs scream. He seems designed to hit the spot right at the top of your channel that you haven't had the pleasure of being struck in a while. It’s an addictive feeling. And when you get it, you can't help but want to bump it repeatedly, the same chemical rush you get when food tastes so good you have the urge to gobble up the entire plate without pausing.

You wish you could bend over and kiss him, but you are too ballooned to do so without pulling off, and that is the very last thing you want right now. Instead, you bring your fingers to your lips, kiss them, and then place them down on his lips. At first sweet, his smile around your fingers turns smouldering as he sucks them into his warm, wet mouth and runs his tongue fiercely over them. Dear Christ, you want that tongue between your legs to the point you clench on him spontaneously.

“Fucking hell,” he gusts, closing his eyes and pushing his head back, his strong neck standing in relief, a vein there hammering seductively. You want to bite it, scrape your teeth over his adam’s apple.

It appears you may have spoken that last thought as his eyes pop open and look at you in startlement. 

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Don't be,” he rasps, “you can do whatever you want to my body.” 

Permitting free rein to a person seething with hormones such as you are seems like an unwittingly dangerous gamble on his part. The things you would do to him if he let you are probably so much kinkier than even you want to admit.

He groans loud. “I want you to tell me everything you just thought about because I have never seen your expression so wild or sexy.”

“Don’t make such tempting offers,” you volley back, changing angle so that his cock rubs deliciously over your g-spot as you sink. You curse again, and he watches your whole body shudder; his hands are suddenly on your arse, encouraging every move.

“Tell me,” he orders gruffly, something elemental and primaeval seemingly taking over his entire being too.

“I want to fuck you until my body and mouth are screaming,” the admission tumbling breathless as you speed up and ride him harder. “I want to use my nails and teeth and leave marks on your beautiful flesh,” you snarl.

“Fucking do it,” he responds vehemently, bringing his fingers to your mouth. “Bite me,” he urges duskily.

You take his thumb and suck it hard, the pad so fleshy and deliciously tart tasting from when he ran his hand between your legs. So you do; entrap that part between your front teeth watching his pupils dilate, and his breath get even more rapid as your teeth sink in. You stop yourself before it can become something else, where you break skin and taste blood, but you can't deny the metallic urge to do so is there. The fact his cock pulses so hard inside as you do just adds to the craving. 

You don't want to contemplate what it means for your friendship that this potentially seismic thing is happening, you are biting and riding him like an animal in heat, and he is letting you, condoning, encouraging, hell, even goading you, into it. 

Drunk on a sea of hormones, you sink and rise on him like an endless tide, your whole body dewy from the effort, and yet still, you don't stop. The flow becomes less urgent at some point, and your movements become languid, almost sensual. His touch morphs to gently strokes, your hands resting gently on his abs.

“If you were pregnant with my child, I would never leave you,” his voice husky, cupping your breasts with the perfect intensity, swiping your nipples assuredly with his thumbs.  “I would build you a fucking palace.”

“You did,” you gesture around the room.

He laughs, and you feel it inside. “No. You deserve more than this. You deserve to be cherished. You deserve to be worshipped.” he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses your palm sweetly, such an exquisite contrast to the carnality of your fucking. 

You know that sex makes people say things that are a heightened version of the truth; so many endorphins in the bloodstream is a dangerously dramatic elixir, so you dismiss how wistfully beautiful his words sound. And instead, you concentrate on chasing the completion your body craves—that utter mind-numbing bliss of orgasm. 

Leaning forward, your bump rests on his flat, taunt stomach as you grab his arms, his expression turning wild as you lean on them, pinning him down, taking what you want from his body, almost selfish. He murmurs encouraging words, telling you to go for it, gritted teeth and tendons straining. He looks so gorgeous you almost want to edge him and yourself; just keep denying yourselves repeatedly, stringing it out, savouring, torturing, and burning each other to a knife-edge and volatile place. But the greedy part of you wants it now, and your body is teetering close to exhaustion.

“Come for me, please, y/n, please,” he begs. His broken, rough, velvety tone urging you on is the catalyst you need. 

“Touch me, Benedict,” you prompt, your rare use of his full name causing something to snap in him. His fingers verge on rough as they dive between your folds and snag your clit with such ferocity you almost jump sky-high as if burned.

“Give it to me,” he growls. You've never seen him like this, and it's breathtaking. Sweaty, strung-out, teeming with desperation, debauched and wanton. His eyes blaze into yours; even in this low light, all you can see is a convex version of your face reflected in his glassy black, dilated pupils. That and his questing fingers are what send you over the edge you have been hovering so close to. 

You slam down on him, your mind short-circuiting, and your whole body shudders as your channel contracts hard around his cock, which seems even larger now, stilled and speared inside you. Every fibre and cell cresting a wave of euphoria stronger than you've experienced in many years, possibly ever. Under you, he is groaning and writhing, your rippling cunt squeezing his cock vice-like as he comes hard, mouth hanging slack, loud groans as his hands grip your thighs and he pushes up against you, emptying himself. A warmth and force you feel inside, coating your walls as he shudders.

Totally spent, you twist off his softening cock and flop onto your back next to him, exhausted but so sated even your extremities tingle, little aftershocks causing muscle twitches.

For a few moments, there is nothing but ragged breathing in the soft glow from the street lamps outside; the background hum of the city and the whoosh of water in your radiators are the only other sounds you can hear. The room smells the opposite of how a nursery should, like sex and sweat and sin. You will definitely have to clean this rug is the first random fleeting thought your brain supplies as it comes back online.

“I don’t know what this means,” he admits quietly as you lay, shoulders touching, still panting breaths.

“I don’t either.” you agree.

“But I do know you are one of my best friends in the world… and that I want to do this again,” he confesses, his hand lacing with yours.

As much as you love this man wholeheartedly, you are not ready to contemplate a romantic entanglement. Not yet, anyway.

“Listen, Ben, I’m still healing from my relationship ending the way it did, and I’m about to become a mum; I have no space to think about the future beyond that. Can we just do this? And see where it goes?”

“Yes… yes, please,” he exhales, relieved you are perhaps unexpectedly on precisely the same page.

“So you have a kink for pregnant ladies, eh?” You bump him with a teasing tone.

“I had no bloody idea,” he admits, his cheeks reddening, “but seriously? I was already super protective of you in this state. But seeing you like this naked? I mean fucking hell. It does something primal and very male to me. And it’s not even my damn kid,” he points out bemused.

“Next time,” you twist and pat his cheek in jest.

“Would you have a kid with me?” his tone is obscure, you can't tell if he's serious, so you plumb for honesty.

“Of course, I would,” you state plainly, “you are a wonderful man. Who wouldn’t want a kid with your gorgeous face?” you smile and trace a finger over his jaw.

“Haha,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes. “But… I may just hold you to that promise, you know,” he smirks.

“You actually want a kid with me?”

“I can’t think of anyone else I’d want a child with more,” he shrugs.

“Meh, you just haven’t met the love of your life yet,” you wave a hand dismissively. 

“I don’t believe in that shit,” he frowns.

“I always picture you ending up with a man, to be honest,” and it’s your turn to shrug.

“Really?” he tilts to look at you. “Why?”

“I dunno. Still do, really.”

“Well, that's part of the delight of being bi… even I don't know,” his laugh contemplative. He rolls you onto your side and encloses you into an embrace, cradling you as the little spoon. “For now though, I want this….” his voice gravelly again, fingers spidering the curve of your hip, lips on your neck, stirring you again even as his cum still seeps out of you. 

It only takes a few caresses for you to be so aroused and throbbing for him, the physical chemistry you have together taking you by surprise. 

“God, what the hell is going on? I’m getting hard again,” he groans, almost disbelieving, surging his cock against your bottom. “May I?”

“Please do,” you squeak as he nudges your folds.

The keening cry of his name you make as he pushes into your body has him whispering for you never to stop, right in your ear. Then he takes you without mercy from behind, just like that, laying on your side. He doesn't treat you like glass, and you are so grateful for it, knowing you want to repay him on your knees, taking him down your throat if he’ll let you. And he does later that night. The way he breathlessly stutters your name as you suck him hard and deep is the most wonderous sound.

Whatever this may become, it is the last thing either of you expected and the very thing you both needed most. What a gift.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#11: I See Things (S3E12)

Something I appreciate so much is that Richonne's journey is a love story, not a fairytale. Their story feels grown and grounded, healthy, and realistic, while also feeling perfect and aspirational between two flawed people doing their best in a broken world. And through each season of their slow burn, we got to organically watch the many building blocks of what makes their love so genuinely strong and special. So I cherish these early moments that laid Rick and Michonne's foundation, especially here in my favorite scene from the masterpiece OG Richonne ep that is Clear...

Rick, Michonne, and Carl pack up to leave King County after a stellar episode with both Rick and Morgan’s storyline and Carl and Michonne’s storyline. The acting was superb all across the board in this ep. 👏🏽

The three really do look like a family as they pack up and head out. And in their own ways, this scene has Carl and Rick both telling Michonne...

I love that it just took one trip for Carl to be completely warmed up to Michonne. And he admits this in the best possible way to his dad. Because Rick, in such a dad way, asks if everything went okay with her, and again, I always feel like Rick really really wants the answer to be yes because deep down he knows he wants Michonne around.

And to me, it isn’t just Rick asking if everything went okay on their trip but if everything is okay with Michonne as a whole. This episode was about Rick and Carl beginning to truly accept Michonne and learn that not only does she not have a problem, but in fact she is the beautiful solution to so much in their life. 

It’s also just great to watch this scene back knowing Rick is asking Carl about the woman who will become his wife and mother to all three of his children. 🥰

And then I will forever love Carl saying, “I think she might be one of us.” Just the absolute best. 😭 That statement is the gospel truth too. And it’s so meaningful because of how much Michonne will end up being not just a vital member of tf but a true blue member and matriarch of the Grimes family.

Michonne truly belongs in this group and this Grimes family, and I love that intuitive little Carl picked up on that so quickly. That seal of approval from him is huge because it allows Rick to feel like he can slowly but surely stop fighting the clear undeniable connection between himself and Michonne. 

I also absolutely love Rick’s dramatic reaction to Carl saying Michonne is one of them. He can’t hide that this is great news to him, and you know Rick's extra side is so loved by me. 😋

Rick acts taken aback and asks, "What?" and I think part of it is actually being surprised that Carl made such a big statement because he could have just said 'yeah she was cool' but instead Carl lets him know she’s truly meant to be with them. And also part of the reaction is because our man Rick has for sure been catching some sorta feelings, even if just the earliest stages of attraction.

I know Rick's happy to hear his son likes her as much as he deep down wants to like her too. Also I really don't think Rick would be having a low-key tickled reaction like this over just any newcomer getting a good report.

Then Carl is just the cutest when he gives a little laugh and tells Rick "Everything went okay." This is all just so precious, especially after Michonne helped Carl retrieve a photo of his family all while planting the seed of Grimes 2.0 at the very same time.

And think about it - this moment is occurring so freshly after losing his mom. Carl probably hasn’t had many smiling moments since then, so I know it means the world to Rick to see that Carl and Michonne bonded and that she brought some joy back into his son's life. She's the best. 🥰

Then, because our lovely leading man is always expressive when it comes to his kids and Michonne, Rick has the biggest smile hearing this.

And again, we gotta be so for real for a second because this smile from him is not just cuz it in-general worked out with a newcomer. I feel this is specific to Michonne. Because like I said, Rick really wanted Michonne to check out (partly so he could keep checking her out🤭) and so he’s really glad to hear that she more than did.

I love that even this early, Michonne is putting smiles on Rick and Carl’s faces. After everything they’ve been through leading up to this ep, it’s refreshing to see.

So Rick is happy, but then he pauses as tho he’s seeing something - likely Ghost Lori. And my theory has long been that Ghost Lori stayed showing up in moments like these to let Rick know his soulmate had now arrived and he should get with Michonne, just like Lori got with her soulmate while Rick was in a coma.💁🏽‍♀️ 😋

Like I just know in this moment Lori's ghost was looking at Rick like...

It’s interesting how we the audience don’t see what he’s hallucinating like we have in other episodes. I like this choice tho because in just seeing Rick staring off it shows how much Michonne was able to read and understand him.

Like all Rick was doing was standing there, and from the outside looking in, it could easily be missed that he was having another hallucination - but Michonne knew Rick was having a moment of seeing things cuz she gets him. Always has. 😌

So Michonne notices it right away and her look of care and concern is really sweet. Throughout the series, Michonne so often looks at Rick like her heart is tugged by this honorable man in all his humanness.

I also love that she brings it up. She could’ve just noticed him seeing things and not said anything, especially because it’s personal and they're still mostly strangers. But this choice to bring it up immediately established that she and him can talk on a deeper level, even this early in the relationship.

And it shows Rick that he doesn’t have to feel misunderstood or ashamed for these episodes he's been having. Someone else sees it, and not only that - relates to it too.

So she gently asks if he saw something and Rick silently looks surprised that she could tell exactly what was happening.

Michonne says, "I know you see things - people." And then in one of the first examples of Richonne doing their signature thing of leveling with each other through being vulnerable, she tells Rick she used to talk to her dead boyfriend. Saying reassuringly, “It happens.” I repeat, Michonne is the best. 👑

It is lovely to see Michonne open up about this, and I love how innately she knew she could share this with Rick. We saw in a s3 scene by a fire with Michonne and Andrea that Michonne was not the type to fully open up about her past family, and yet here with Rick she's willing to share something personal and offer up this part of herself. It just further suggests that Rick and Michonne have a different and uniquely intrinsic connection. And I repeat - they trusted each other before they knew they trusted each other.

It’s also sweet that Michonne is willing to be vulnerable to help Rick feel less alone. This is such a big reason why their union is so special. With each other, they're never in it alone.

They are cut from the same cloth and understand each other deeply. And despite living in a world that would suggest you should always have your guard up, I love that Michonne and Rick instead allowed themselves to open up to each other, slowly but surely. 🥰

Also, more and more, I realize that the making of Richonne was actually so obvious from season 3 forward, and especially here in Clear.

Like this episode really plants the seed of Rick, Michonne, and Carl becoming a whole family because that family theme runs all throughout.

I mean even just the fact that the episode takes place in Rick and Carl's old hometown, bringing only Michonne on this run where she gets to gain insight into the past of her future husband and son, R&M essentially co-parenting together when Michonne offers to go with Carl to get the crib, and then Carl wanting the family photo and needing Michonne's help to retrieve it, and then Michonne finally opening up a bit about her family.

Richonne was looking like Morgan's apartment in this ep because, honey...

So then Rick is quiet for a sec after Michonne addresses him seeing things and letting him know it happens, and I know deep down he appreciates this moment from her. It's a rare moment of someone looking at him not to lead or provide an answer but simply to know he's not crazy or on his own.

And then Rick definitely gets flirty as he asks her if she wants to drive. (and again, letting Michonne drive is another establishment of trust) Also, I just love that throughout their pre-canon era, Michonne is the one Rick most wanted to be sociable with from team family.

I adore this scene for being the first moment of flirting between them as he asks if she wants to drive and she smiles and says "yeah." Rick then says "good" and takes the scene to new levels of adorable with his playful flirty energy when he adds, “Cuz I see things”  and hands her the keys to his heart and the car. 😊

It’s a nice way for him to admit Michonne was right that he sees things but still keep things light. And it's adorable how quickly Rick would go into flirtation mode with Michonne, even this early on.

(Side note: Y'all sometimes I used to want a body language expert who has never seen TWD to analyze these pre-canon Richonne scenes because I just know they'd confirm that Rick and Michonne's pre-canon moments read as more than platonic. But truly there is no body language expert needed for it to be known that Rick's energy is flirtatious here.)

And same for Michonne's energy afterward because I love how she smiles as she holds the keys and watches him go. #SmittenKitten 😋

They’re both real fond of each other, y’all. Even in season 3. Like this moment lets you know Rick and Michonne really do have “common interests” lol.

And while of course Rick and Michonne are still on their own individual healing journeys atp so they aren't yet aware that they're meant to be, it's still nice that in this scene they at least now know they like each other as people.

I love that Michonne who can read people so well, knew Rick was a good man doing his best in this world as a leader and father, and as she closes the trunk she looks like she knows she might have found her new home with these people, which I love that for her. 🙌🏽

This beautiful scene is just such a great and foundational moment in Rick and Michonne's love story and gives an excellent peek into how their dynamic will be going forward as they evolve into a husband and wife. 👏🏽

And how spoiled are we that Gimple was planting the Richonne seeds back when he was writing for Season 3 (before Richonne's journey had even aired for us to see), and now here we are 11 years later with Scott, Danai, and Andy having created a whole miniseries dedicated to Richonne and constantly confirmed to be an epic love story. 🤩🥳🤗

Like this is me and every Richonners' energy for a reason lol...

I'm forever thankful to Danai, Andy, and Scott for loving Richonne like we do and returning to give Rick and Michonne Grimes closure. And I'm grateful that we stan a married ship that always flourishes within the actual franchise. #WinningSinceTheBeginning 🥰

There's also just something so poetic about the fact that way back during the season 3 Clear days, Scott said Danai was able to pick up on the Richonne trajectory because she was a writer - and now we'll have the privilege to watch a whole TOWL episode written by the illustrious talent Danai, herself, as she gets to help shape the final chapter of Richonne's years-long love story. What. A. Journey. 😭🙌🏽

So as the classic and fitting 'Home' song concludes this phenomenal 3.12 ep and the three drive away, it shows how these three entered that town as strangers and left as a family more than they could ever imagine. They didn't know it entirely yet, but after Clear, Rick, Michonne, and Carl were on pace to become home to each other.

Imo, Richonne was written in the stars from the moment they laid eyes on each other at at that prison fence. But after Clear, it was set in stone, with no going back, that Richonne was bound to happen. They were too perfect together, too much passion and attraction emitting from them in these early stages for it to not eventually blossom into more.

Rick and Michonne were destined to be Mr. and Mrs. Grimes. And heartwarming scenes like this just made that so, well, clear. 😌🤍

[theworldofasnowbunny]

A woman's perspective on IR relationships

When I first created this blog, my goal was to inspire other women who feels like I do to follow their hearts and break free of all the prejudice and narrow-minded people who still can't accept a white women dating black men in 2023. It's SO crazy how some people (primarily insecure white guys) can't handle that some of us are attracted to black men!

Although my goal still is to inspire other women and help women who are attracted to black men find their strength and courage to follow their hearts, I'm also starting to realise the importance of presenting a woman's perspective on IR relationships. I have realised that although there are many blogs revolving around IR relationships, most of these seem to be run by guys or sissies. And that's fine, don't get wrong, but I just feel that there's also a need for a woman's perspective on things. I truly believe that there exists a strong, intimate and beautiful connection between us women and all of you black men and I'm so passionate about this. I meet so many women who feels this way too and truly wishes to date a black man, but doesn't because she's afraid of how people around her might react! This is crazy andvI don't get it!!! So, it's perfectly okay for a man to be attracted to a woman with huge breasts or a woman with a certain background, but it's not okay for a woman to be attracted to black men?! Then she's perceived as a slut and someone who's sexually deranged! Most white guys aren't able to or doesn't want to try to comprehend that there might just exist a special connection between her and her black boyfriend! That their relationship might have a strong romantic connection or a deep emotional bond. There is a special bond between us women and black men and I want to give my perspective on this!

[unlikelysaintdelele]

some interesting things i've noted during my ACOTAR reread Pt. 2

*SPOILER WARNING for those who haven’t completed the series*

I finished ACOTAR a few weeks ago but I haven't gotten the chance to transfer my notes until now. Once again, names have been color-coded!

Feyre couldn’t keep her mouth shut only around Rhys. It’s almost like her true self comes out around him.

Anytime Feyre calls on some strength, the image of Nesta comes to mind. She sees Nesta as strong and admires her for that.

A queen without a throne

Are tattooed bargains a night court specialty? I was listening through the graphic audio, as a reminder, so some things slip through.

Pearls in Nesta’s hair. It makes me think of the pearl jewelry Elain later receives from Lucien. I think pearl is meant to represent luxury, and it seems to complement their features.

Elain is the only one with their father’s eyes and I always found it interesting. How similar is Elain to her father? Her father favored her, but I think that’s only because Nesta was cold and Feyre was busy.

Warrior beast vs half-wild beast, Tamlin and Feyre bonding for being unrefined (Disney Beauty and the Beast reference?)

“Don’t ever disobey me again” is honestly not the vibe, Tictac.

I don’t like knowing Tamlin’s anger is on a tight leash with Feyre. He’s angry at her. It feels overprotective in such a suffocating way.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you.” SOB

The most beautiful man she’s ever seen

Blue eyes so deep they were violet

They just stared at each other! As if in a daze! 

Night pressed in closer around him, smiling

Molded from the night itself, star-kissed night

I have a random “until dawn” note… idk

Cauldron boil me (double, double, toil and trouble… sorry, random silly thought)

Elain began learning to grow veggies! Reminder, the soil at the cottage was crap, it couldn't sustain the veggies. Elain could barely grow flowers. People keep forgetting that Feyre was their only access to nourishment because there was no other choice. Sweet Elain gets so much hate for not using her gardening skills to help, but it was set up so that she couldn't.

Nesta’s iron-will allowed her to resist glamour! I want more on Nesta’s strength. This is one of many reasons why I’ve been a Nesta stan since day one. I know she was cruel but we’re told why in book one. She wanted her father to do something, anything: be a father and care for them. I’m not saying it was any excuse to be cruel, but they were in a shitty situation and she showed her love for her family in other ways. Being willing to lay down her life for Elain? Going after Feyre even knowing it was risky? Asking to be taught to paint? She loves her sisters, she just shows it differently.

Heart of Stone was mentioned for a second time! hehe

Wyyyyyyyyrrrrmmmmmm. I’m a fan of giant worms (Dune, Star Wars). Fun fact about me: I went through a short phase where I just kept writing about worms.

Feyre deems Elain as stronger for being hopeful. She sees so much strength in her sisters and admires them for their differences.

Love Nesta! More Nesta love. She wondered what a woman might do with a fortune and a name. She wanted to travel! She wanted that independence! Pre-war Nesta hurts to experience. She’s opening up now that she’s safe socioeconomically and physically. It makes me wonder what else would have begun to heal if she got more of that peace and security.

Rhys: because I’m tired and lonely. The things he does and willingly puts himself through to protect his court and anyone else he can spare. Love his complexity.

(apparently there's a character limit for each block of text so here's a lil divider)

Honestly? I was vibing with the Tamlin romance, it was chill. The bite was nice. UNTIL Rhys appeared. Timtam just seems so stale in comparison. The chemistry is immediate between Rhys and Feyre, the tension is palpable. I’m still not over how Feyre chose Tampon over Lucien. why would I pick someone so clumsy with affection and who isn’t around nearly as much as the sassy redhead who bickers with me like an old friend? Rhys > Lucien > Tamlin is the order at the moment, and the order will stay until I have to consider the other boys (wait for me batboys).

Tamlin’s dad was Amarantha’s friend! They fought together in the war. Rhys’ father killed Tamlin’s, so Amarantha took Rhys in as a lover as punishment. Amarantha is so greedy honestly, and it's so gross. She wants Tamlin and Rhys but the only reason Tamlin hasn’t been forced like Rhys is that she wants to be chosen, she wants him to come to her willingly

Even in their last moments together, Rhys and Feyre are honest with each other. Honest in a way I've never seen her with Tamlin.

Very excited to begin ACOMAF, my fave book of the series.

[namorthesubmariner]

About Namor x Shuri

I’m not here to rain on anyone’s parade, ship what you ship and tag appropriately is my fandom motto, if there’s something I don’t want to see then it’s up to me to not engage with that.

I am Namor x Shuri neutral, I don’t love or hate it. I am just here to put this post together to address the Fandom and make sure that some information isn’t lost in the chaos that has become the Namor tags these days.

1. Please do not harass the actors or the production crew. Yes, I am speaking to you, I don’t care how valid you think your ship is, I don’t care if you think it should be canon. Don’t harass the cast/crew or other fans. Don’t do what Reylos and MCU fans have done in the past and just a reminder in case people forgot: Reylos have been extremely racist and harassed the actors and other fans all for the sake of their ship. MCU Fans harassed the fans and the actress Emily VanCamp during the Peggy vs Sharon discourse. I’m not here to argue this and I’m not going to provide receipts, the information and past actions are there if you want to go looking for them. Edit to add: I was speaking in general terms of what I know about these discourses, but I do understand there are Reylo fans who are chill and I was not pointing out anyone specifically. I just wanted to share the observations I knew of in a general way.

2. In a Rollingstone interview Tenoch Huerta has stated that the intentions for the Namor and Shuri relationship was not romantic. Please read the full interview, this role and the movie’s themes mean a lot to the actor beyond shipping.

On another note, some viewers felt that there was romantic chemistry between Namor and Shuri when she was in your city. Did you play that romantic chemistry deliberately? I don’t feel it was a romantic touch [between them]. I think it was more a human, intimate touch. I mean in the history of their kingdoms, the history of their people, they share the same root, and the threat comes from the same place for both of them, for the same reason. They both face threats from Western countries like the United States and France in the story, because of vibranium, natural resources. I think they connect in that aspect.

I mean, when you meet someone and you have a good relationship, whether this person is the gender that you prefer or not, you always have this ambiguous relationship. It’s normal. It’s human. So, I think this happened with both of them. If that can evolve into a romantic relationship or not? I don’t know. It wasn’t our intention. It could happen or not.

The beautiful part of this relationship is, it doesn’t need to be romantic to be deep. It doesn’t need to be romantic to be beautiful and bright and intimate. And this connection between a man and a woman in different levels doesn’t need, necessarily, to end in a romantic relationship. And that’s beautiful, you know? Because I hate the romantic love. I think it’s poison. [Laughs] These characters, they create something… I don’t know. It was magical, but not necessarily romantic.

3. in an interview by Newsweek  with film editor Michael P. Shawver this was written:

On Shuri’s Bond with Namor One thing that has stood out amongst fans since the film was released is Shuri's bond with Namor, and whether there is any potential for romance between the pair. When they first meet, Namor urges Shuri and her mother Queen Ramonda to work with him to retrieve the scientist responsible for making a Vibranium detector, Riri, or face the wrath of Talokan. Later, when Shuri goes to Talokan with Riri, the Talokan leader tells the Wakandan princess of his history, and how his people came to establish the underwater nation after being oppressed by Spanish colonizers. Namor shows Shuri his kingdom and she comes to realize how similar Talokan is to Wakanda and this has inspired some fans to believe a romance could be on the cards for them. Shawver explained that idea was something that was discussed during the film's creation process, and was even something they tested, but ultimately Shuri's bond with Namor felt like it should be something different. "I think what's really interesting is there were takes where there was some connection there," Shawver said. "And at one point in an early cut we discussed like, 'Hey, do we leave it there? Do we just put it out there? Let's just add some complexity to the relationship.' "But, then, you've got to watch out for portraying, for example, Shuri flirting to get what she wants as opposed to being a diplomatic leader and becoming the leader that she needs to be, that she'll get to at the end."So what we ultimately focused on was Namor's line where he says 'only the most damaged people can be truly great leaders', and that's planting the seed of the shared trauma that she realizes at the end [of the film]."But that's essentially who they are, they're trying to lead and be a leader of their nations with all this pain, carrying around this heavy heart." The editor explained that Namor "sort of became [a] big brother" to Shuri "because of the similarity she saw when she saw their world and hearing the story." He added that there is "obviously a shared cultural trauma between his people and her people" and "what she lost at the beginning he started to fill that void, and that felt the most genuine to the characters." Even so, that didn't mean that the editors and Coogler felt the pair were completely unsuited to each other, because Shawver said: "They relate, and I think that anytime we can relate to somebody there can be undertones of that kind of thing, you know what I mean?"Referring to how Namor gave Shuri his mother's bracelet in the film, the editor added: "Honestly, we've got to keep ourselves sane and laugh a lot, especially with the tougher moments or the serious moments, so we would always joke that when he gave her that bracelet they were married now, and she didn't know it."There's a whole different movie where she's like, 'wait, what, I'm the queen of Talokan now?'"

However Production Designer Hannah Beachler has already stated that the interview was taken out of context and that there was no romantic scene between them.  (source, source)

Nope. JS never shot a romantic scene with them.

I think Shawver was taken way out of context.  While there was a curiosity & seemingly a mutual experience of loss, never any scenes that would be considered typical "romance" or physical intimacy filmed. Shawver is a good dude. Media recreating something where there's nothing.

MCUDirect has already updated with an edit to include Beachler’s response. Again please read the full Newsweek article because there is more there about Honoring Chadwick and other things about the film.

4. Yes, there is a lot of scenes cut and I am just as excited to see those scenes released as anyone but please do not do what Snyder Fans did and harass the crew with #releasethetalokancut that I have seen pop up recently. Hopefully once the DVD comes out we will get all the extra scenes and commentary.

5. The Mary Sue wrote an article about their views on the Namor x Shuri ship parallels and Namor’s background (source) the reason I’m linking this is because it also talks about how Namor is not Mexican even though the actor is, but the Character of Namor is a Mayan/Mesoamerican Native/Indigenous. Please remember this in your fics/headcanons. Namor would not speak Spanish, he would speak his native Yucatec Mayan.

6. White/Light washing, there are many new Namor x Shuri Fan Arts out there and many of them have lightwashed Namor’s skintone to the point of him being white. Please ask artists to consider what white/light washing does to harm Fans of Color and also erases Characters of Color. There is NO EXCUSE for this, and artists should do better. I’m not here to call out artists but to point out that the issue is there and to be wary of it. The actor Tenoch Huerta is very vocal about how racism/discrimination against darker skinned actors in Mexico has affected him and other actors like him.

7. Fandom Racism. It’s there, it’s all over the tags, it’s in the fics. I am not only speaking about Namor x Shuri but about the Namor x Reader fics that have exploded in the tags: Namor is NOT a Noble Savage or a Rapist or a Pedophile. The incident with DeltasStories (discussed here) has sparked outrage in fandom however it was inevitable with the way fandom and specifically white fandom engages with Men/Characters of Color in Fandom. Men/Characters of Color are highly sexualized and you all should educate yourselves on why writing a Character like MCU!Namor who has dark skin tones in this manner is highly racist. Comic!Namor also is painted with this Exotic Lover Rapist brush when it comes to the NamorSue ship, even though he has never done anything like that and Comic!Namor does not mess with kids (source). So the next time you want to spread Fanon!Namor stop and think about how you are perpetuating racist stereotypes.

Shipping is for the Fans. Not the Cast/Crew/Canon.

It won’t be canon, because we all know Namor kills Ramonda. However it doesn’t mean fans can’t ship, just be sure to be respectful of the characters, other fans, and the cast/crew. And for the Antis please shut up about the Age Gap, you aren’t helping your crusade. If you don’t like Namor x Shuri then block/blacklist. I shouldn’t have to say this over and over but the “Immortal Lover” trope is an old trope in romance media, the whole Vampire/Human romance genre is built on this as are other types of fantasy pairings, there’s so many ships centered around white/non poc character that have this trope, this is nothing new so don’t pull out this outcry because all you are doing is infantilizing Shuri and making Namor out to be a predator. Namor is NOT a sexual predator.

This post will be updated with edits as time goes by when new information comes out.

[awhitegirlspassion]

A woman's perspective on IR relationships

When I first created this blog, my goal was to inspire other women who feels like I do to follow their hearts and break free of all the prejudice and narrow-minded people who still can't accept a white women dating black men in 2023. It's SO crazy how some people (primarily insecure white guys) can't handle that some of us are attracted to black men!

Although my goal still is to inspire other women and help women who are attracted to black men find their strength and courage to follow their hearts, I'm also starting to realise the importance of presenting a woman's perspective on IR relationships. I have realised that although there are many blogs revolving around IR relationships, most of these seem to be run by guys or sissies. And that's fine, don't get wrong, but I just feel that there's also a need for a woman's perspective on things. I truly believe that there exists a strong, intimate and beautiful connection between us women and all of you black men and I'm so passionate about this. I meet so many women who feels this way too and truly wishes to date a black man, but doesn't because she's afraid of how people around her might react! This is crazy andvI don't get it!!! So, it's perfectly okay for a man to be attracted to a woman with huge breasts or a woman with a certain background, but it's not okay for a woman to be attracted to black men?! Then she's perceived as a slut and someone who's sexually deranged! Most white guys aren't able to or doesn't want to try to comprehend that there might just exist a special connection between her and her black boyfriend! That their relationship might have a strong romantic connection or a deep emotional bond. There is a special bond between us women and black men and I want to give my perspective on this!

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go

Chapter 4

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

Warnings: threat of assault

Even in your exhausted state your body was still used to waking up at sunrise. The horizon was a pale pink hue when you slid from the bed soundlessly. The woman who had fallen asleep during the night was still in her chair, slumped over and breathing loudly as you began to search the tent for your belongings.

Your bag was hanging at the end of your bed with your boots neatly tucked beside it. You shook them out before you pulled them on and checked your backpack.

Your notebook was missing.

You scrambled, searching the sheets and surrounding area. Eventually you accepted it had been lost or taken and you couldn’t waste time trying to find it if you wanted to leave quietly.

The thought made the feeling in your chest ache and throb. Resentfully you told it to quiet down. You’d imagined what it would be like to experience the Pull and find your soulmate since you were a child, and this… this was not what you had pictured. Having to make a silent getaway to escape the man who was supposedly your equal half. It was nothing like what you’d seen growing up; your parents had found each other young and lived their lives happily and still deeply in love right up until their final moments, clinging to each other as they told you to run, to escape the dead and the encroaching fire…

You pushed all memories of your family away as you pulled your bag over your shoulder, now heavy with the stolen medical supplies, dried food and a few bottles of water. It was the best you could find within the tent.

Your map was still in your bag but of course you’d been unconscious when you'd been found. You had no idea where you were but you guessed if the Pull had you heading east from the city then if you made your way west you’d eventually reach the coast. You could find shelter there, fish for food. The fires would have been long burned out by now and hopefully it meant most of the dead were also gone.

You cautiously made your way from the tent and paused as you took in, well, everything.

Ever since San Diego had been bombed and you’d lost everyone and everything you’d ever known you hadn’t seen another soul, unless you counted the dead. Which, you'd decided, you did not.

Now you could see tents and caravans spread out in the fields. In the distance a large house presided over everything and you just knew that was where he was. If you weren’t mistaken you could see a herd of cattle in one direction, horses in another. You were on a farm?

For a split second you reconsidered leaving. The place looked secure. It looked like something familiar, something safe. A place that could be a home.

The memory of Troy turning his back on you, his voice as he told you that you should not have come…

You shook all thoughts of staying from your head, made sure the rising sun was at your back, and started walking. You ignored the hunger in your stomach. Once you’d put some distance between you and this place you’d stop and eat the stolen supplies. For now you just needed to keep going.

You ducked amongst the caravans, taking shelter where you could once you noticed the uniformed men walking the perimeter of the fence. Of course they’d have a guard, you thought. A place like this would need protection.

You wondered if anyone would even care if you left, but just in case you remained determined to slip away undetected. The humiliation of explaining that you couldn’t stand to see the empty look your soulmate had for you was too much to think about. You’d have been met with pity, maybe even scorn. Women were always judged more harshly then men if their matches didn’t work out, as if there was some fundamental fault within them which made them, for lack of a better word, unlovable.

You managed to reach the fence and slip through, keeping low to the ground as you moved toward a gathering of trees. The air was cool on your cheeks and your body still aching and sore, but you were sure of your decision. You pretended the sharp pain in your chest and the difficulty in catching your breath were simply no more than your weary body complaining as you ducked into the shelter of the trees, straightened your body, and began walking.

You didn’t look back.

After many hours you’d split the dried food and water into rations, examining the map and trying to work out your location as best you could while you rested, before setting out once more. You knew you needed to find somewhere to gather a change on clothes, especially your damn boots which were close to falling off your feet. Even some duct tape would do the job.

By the time the sun had begun to fall you thought you saw something promising looming in the distance. As you quickened your pace your heart leapt. There was definitely shelter ahead, a barn that had seen better days and a small house. The area was surrounded by a wire fence that was easy enough to climb over once you’d spent at least twenty minutes laying on your stomach in the long grass, checking for signs of life inside.

You didn’t want to receive a face-full of lead by being mistaken for an intruder, nor did you want to ask for help from whoever might be inside if they were less than friendly. After you’d determined the place abandoned you carefully walked the perimeter of the empty barn before peering through the gaps in boarded up windows.

There was no light from inside, no signs of movement. You tapped on the window and waited.

Nothing.

Your feet were light on the slightly rotten wooden steps that led to the front door. Nervously, and suddenly wishing you’d picked up something to use as weapon, you tried to door handle. It was stiff but opened with a loud groan. You shuddered, thinking of every scary movie you’d ever seen that started with a heroine walking alone into a creepy, abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere.

“Hello?” you called into the darkness, “If there are any crazed, masked serial killers in here… please don’t come out…”

The silence remained and you closed the door behind you. The house was only spread over one floor and it didn’t take long to check it out. The main living area was attached to a small kitchen which smelled as if something had recently died. You avoided opening the refrigerator and the oven but checked the cupboards for food. There were a few questionable tins, and thankfully a tin opener and some rusty looking knives in a drawer. You picked up the sturdiest looking knife and dropped the rest into your bag, deciding to save them for breakfast the next day.

Once you were sure the house was empty you made sure to block the doors and check that the windows were secure. You pulled the sheets from the single bedroom and decided to spent the night on the couch, hoping it wasn’t flea infested. Although there was no reason not to use the bedroom you just found sleeping in a strangers bed too strange.

You kept your bag close, curled yourself up on the couch and closed your eyes before quickly falling asleep. As you did you hoped your rest would be free of dreams as your fist pressed itself against your aching chest, which was harder to ignore now you didn’t have anything to distract yourself with.

Your wish was granted as you managed a few hours of deep slumber before something began to rouse you, some sound you knew was familiar but couldn’t quite place…

It was a creaking, like when your mother tried to walk the stairs at night without waking anyone on the old floorboards. You frowned in your sleep and muttered, annoyed. Why was she walking around so late? It was barely morning…

Your eyes flew open as the sound came again, accompanied by the image of your mother’s bloodstained face.

The noise, it couldn’t be her.

She was long dead.

It took a moment to adjust to the darkness, to remember where you were. Just as you did a great pounding sound came from the door, followed by angry voices.

You grabbed your back and dived behind the couch, holding your breath as your heart began to race. The knife was already in your hand but from the sounds of the arguing outside there were at least two of them. Your best bet was to sneak away unseen rather than risk confronting them.

There was a pause, a second of silence in which you hoped whoever was outside would give up and leave before the door crashed open and a figure appeared, filling the doorway.

“Told ya it just needed a man’s touch,” he said smugly.

Another shorter but stocky man appeared over his shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up Derek and check for dead.”

You couldn’t take a breath even if you tried as torchlight beamed across the room. You shrunk back, trying to make yourself as small as possible as footsteps drew closer.

“You check out that way,” the man called Derek said, “see if there’s anythin’ worth takin’.”

A wave of naseau came over you as the thrumming your chest began to vibrate horribly. For some reason it was like a voice in your head, whispering.

Danger. Danger.

“No shit!” You snapped back at it silently.

You would not make the same mistake you had before, just a few days after your parents had died and you’d been completely alone before stumbling across a man and his son - about your age - who’d also lost everything in the bombings. You’d asked for help, believed them when they’d led you to ‘a safe place’.

That was when you’d first learned that the dead were not the worst monsters out there. At least you knew exactly what they wanted from you if you stumbled into their path.

The sound of the other man’s footsteps faded as he headed into the kitchen. Derek was walking slowly further into the room, kicking aside a fallen stool so it bounced off the couch and made you jump.

Your hands clenched on the knife when Derek’s footsteps froze.

You knew if you didn’t move soon his companion would see you crouched on the ground when he came back from the kitchen, and the door was still wide open, moonlight streaming in with the sounds of the night.

Cupboards being torn open echoed into the room, it wouldn’t take long at all for him to realise it was empty… you had no choice.

You braced yourself, turning toward the door-

A hand reached over the couch, grabbing you by your hair and pulling you up and over. You screamed and slashed out with the knife, catching skin but not with enough force for the blunt blade to do much damage. Derek dropped you onto the couch and repaid you with a sharp blow to the face, leaving your head spinning as it snapped back against the cushion.

His friend came running at the noise and you could make out the ragged shoulder length hair beneath a cap in the moonlight. In front of him he held a gun, a hunting rifle to be exact. You pulled back you hand which still held the knife and tried to lash out again only for your wrist to be caught and twisted painfully. You grit your teeth, trying to keep hold of your only weapon as the man barked a laugh that made your stomach turn.

“Drop it girly.” Derek instructed, “Let’s not do anything stupid huh?”

“You attacked me!” you spat back.

“That’s an awful accusation. You drew first blood. Now drop it so we can have a nice civilised conversation.”

With one more squeeze of his hand your fingers gave out. You dropped the knife with a whimper and snatched your wrist back as the man ducked to pick it up. Your eyes fell to the gun. You could have kicked out and tried to run, but you’d only end up with a hole between your eyes, or so the man’s face told you as he sneered.

Derek examined the rusty blade and muttered something about tetanus. Your laughter was hollow.

“Good. You can kill me but here’s hoping you die soon anyway!”

“Derek she’s being a rude house guest.” came the voice of the man in the door.

You scowled, “I was here first!”

Your insides curled as Derek glared down at you, tossing the knife away.

“Well we’re here now. And we’re the ones with the guns. So it’s our place now.” he said with an eerie calm. You looked at him more closely as he placed the torch on the ground, sending long shadows across the room. There was enough light for you to make out broad shoulders, thick-muscled arms with hands that looked like they could crush a skull. You shrunk back against the couch, your blood running cold as you accepted you were really in the shit now.

[tiny-maus-boots]

Darkest of Nights pt 14

A/N: Just the start of a little bit of Chloe backstory for @lilhan Honestly I couldn't do any of this without the constant support and encouragement from my besties. i love you awesome nerds. @chloes-yellow-cup @kimmania

Aubrey

It had been hours since they had last changed carriages and a whole day since they dropped the bloodless corpse into a dusty ravine far from the road. Aubrey had healed some, enough to be able to move, if somewhat stiffly, but not enough to entirely repair the damage to her head and face. 

Beca had found them a shop that had seemed more like a grand carnival with many lights and strange clown characters dressed most outrageously. Aubrey had stayed hidden in their coach watching with interest while Chloe had gone to gather supplies and another ride.

"Are there many of these markets?"

"Walmart? Yeah. They're kinda everywhere."

She was silent a moment, watching a man place a silvered odd shaped helmet on his head. He patted himself down before applying deep red lipstick in a smear across his lips and black under each eye.

"Do they all have performers?"

Beca looked out the window of Suburban they had switched to and chuckled. She shook her head, unsurprised at the unusual man.

"He isn't a performer, he's just a regular midnight Walmart shopper. There is a whole community dedicated to the weirdos that come here."

"Humans are…weirdos."

Beca's soft laugh at the use of the unfamiliar word pulled her attention from the streams of people wandering from their coaches to the marketplace and back. Aubrey settled back down, both confused and astounded by the world humans had made for themselves. 

It was a quiet companionable moment before Beca sat up quickly and turned her head to peek out of the front window. Aubrey focused on the slow roll of carriages as they parted to reveal Chloe bathed in a halo of light striding toward them, her rolling gait drawing their eyes to her hips. Beca swallowed audibly and sat back with her legs extended along the bench seat.

"She's really…ya know?"

Aubrey's lips twitched in a small smile amused that Beca had sensed Chloe even before she had. It was clear the bond between them was solidifying with each passing moment. It was beautiful to behold but heartbreaking at the same time. She knew tasting Beca's blood would be the catalyst but the bond was not blood magic alone. They cared for each other. More than Beca would perhaps admit.

"Yes. Yes she is. You should have seen her at the Minotaur Maze. She was breathtaking."

Beca turned and looked at her, her eyes dark with curiosity. The unasked questions hung between them until Chloe tapped lightly one the window. Beca rolled it down and eyed the bags hanging from the smiling vampire’s hands.

"Are those Mike and Ikes?" 

"I saw you eyeballing them at the last gas station."

Beca took the bags from Chloe through the lowered window and tore through them to find the treats she craved. Aubrey smiled at the innocent joy in the necromancer's face as she popped a small colored candy in her mouth.

"Bro. I could almost kiss you right now."

Chloe raised a brow and leaned into the window with a predatory smile. Beca's eyes widened and she leaned back.

"I SAID ALMOST!"

Chloe's laugh was light and carried on the air. Aubrey closed her eyes to savor the sound of their banter and the soft reassuring beat of Beca’s heart. A woman could find herself content for all her days with those sounds surrounding her.

"Hey, how did you pay for all this?"

Aubrey opened her eyes in time to catch Chloe's smile turn from sly to brightly amused. 

"Visa!"

"You have a credit card?? Won't that leave like a paper trail or something?"

"I didn't say it was mine, Beca."

There was silence then Beca's aggrieved sigh.

"Damnit, I'm actually kind of impressed."

Chloe preened at the look Beca gave her then turned her attention to Aubrey. The intensity in her blue eyes softened and she reached into the window to caress the unburnt side of her face.

"Are you sure you don’t want me to find you someone to eat? You need to heal my love."

Aubrey leaned into the gentle touch, her eyes closing at the soothing cool of Chloe’s palm. She wanted to feed and badly. It gnawed at her insides, and raced like fire through her veins. It would be unbearable if not for Beca keeping her distracted. It allowed her to remember her vow never to take an innocent life simply because she could. No matter the consequence of not feeding.

"I'm alright…for now. Is it time to change coaches?"

Chloe nodded once and looked around. They were too exposed, and there were too many prying eyes and Aubrey didn't want to be seen in her current state. Though she supposed she would become another of the weirdos.

"You two stay at the car but be ready to go when I come up the row. I'll go find us a new ride."

They slid from the back of the carriage and Beca handed her a short hooded cloak. Aubrey held it up to her chest and looked with uncertainty at Beca. The other woman set the bags down and gently took the cloak from her hands.

"Here, let me help."

"This cloak is very short."

"It's called a hoodie. Full length cloaks went out of fashion when we canceled J.K. Fuckface."

Aubrey didn't understand any of those words. Someone rolled by with a loud cart and she flinched away into what shadow she could. Beca carefully lifted the hood for her and winked reassuringly. 

"Thank you Beca Mitchell."

"Anytime. And hey look, a zipper. Get a load of that action, huh?"

She looked down at the silvered tab and smiled. The vampire tugged it up and down a few times, enjoying the satisfying sound it made.

She was starving and in pain but somehow the simple magic of a zipper made it slightly more bearable. Perhaps too, the soft way Beca kept glancing at her. It made her feel…everything. All at once.

"Can I ask you something?" At Aubrey’s short nod Beca cleared her throat. "You guys love each other, right? Like. Be together literally forever love."

Aubrey held Beca’s gaze as she considered how to answer. She hadn’t known how deeply she still loved Chloe until recently. And in truth she didn't feel as though she was deserving enough to even admit to her feelings let alone expect that Chloe would feel the same. Certainly not now. Not with her bond to Beca blossoming. 

"Is there a question in that statement, Necromancer?"

The other woman looked distinctly uncomfortable for a moment. Aubrey guessed she was trying to figure out what she really wanted to ask.

"How come you married someone else…"

Oh. Aubrey dipped her head and leaned back against the steel carriage. Why had she done that? Yes. She had loved Harun from the moment her eyes set upon him but before him there had always been Chloe. Aubrey was slow to answer, slow to dredge up the lifetimes of memories.

"Things were different when we were young. Chloe’s family line is considered diluat. Her mother had been born human, you see. It broke her father's pure blood line and forever marked her place in society."

Beca went wide eyed, her mouth dropping open then closing with a click. 

"That's a lot to unpack. So she's part human?"

"Yes and no. She was born a vampire as I was. As all pure blood vampires are. But her mother was human and already with child when Einar The Lonely came upon her one night. I was told she was a slave brought from another land to serve and pleasure the invading human warriors. By the time Einar crossed paths with the caravan she had massacred her captors."

"Hell yeah. So…he turned her?"

"No. He tried to eat her." Beca's face was awash with horror. Aubrey chuckled and shrugged a shoulder. "She bit his throat out."

"Gross."

"Hm. Perhaps. But he fell in love with her fierce spirit and raised her child as his own. And she grew to love him too. He chose her over his status and that meant much in those days."

"So is that why you didn't pick her?"

Beca's voice was heavy with disappointment and a little hostility. She could read it all in the other woman's disdainful shake of her head and tiny snort of incredulity. Aubrey bit back a snarl as the question and Beca’s assumption that she had chosen politics over Chloe pricked at a long sore spot. One she hadn’t realized held resentment still.

"I cared little about status or bloodlines. I would have…"

A vehicle flashed its lights and rolled to a slow stop in the aisle behind them. Chloe waved to them urgently from behind the wheel. There was no time to finish the thought and she had no desire to speak on it further.

Aubrey tugged Beca's arm before the smaller could dismiss her. The necromancer turned to her with blame naked in her eyes.

"What I would or would not have done then is irrelevant. It was never my choice to make Beca Mitchell. It was Chloe’s and she chose the Bloodguard."

She brushed past the other woman and climbed into the back of their new ride. The interior was fairly open and smelled of gasoline and something earthier and smokey. Short, thick curtains ringed the cabin ensuring their privacy. It was clean and there was enough room for her to stretch out fairly comfortably. It would do. 

"Jesus it smells like a dispensary in here."

Chloe laughed and jerked a chin at the spot Aubrey had just settled onto.

"Yeah. There has to be at least a kilo stashed somewhere back there."

"So not only did you buy me candy but you rolled up in a sweet ass bus filled with secret weed?? I think I might love you a little, Red."

"I can live with that."

Beca looked guiltily over her shoulder at Aubrey but the vampire eased further into her hood and closed her eyes. Hunger that had previously only been a hollow feeling in the back of her thoughts raced forward plaguing her with its unbearable presence. 

There was sadly a savage joy at its return. If she had her hunger to focus on she could not sit and replay the look of accusation in Beca's eyes. And although she hadn’t been the first one to walk away, she felt the weight of guilt on her. Aubrey sighed softly and rolled to her side, arms propped under her head and let the rocking roll of the carriage soothe her into an uneasy sleep.

[multifandomfanfiction]

Little Dragon Chapter 3

TITLE: Little Dragon Chapter 3 PAIRING: Aemond/Niece!OC RATING: T CHAPTER: 3/? SUMMARY: Daella Velaryon is the only true-born heir of Laenor and Rhaenyra, but after Aemond’s maiming at Driftmark she elects to stay with the royal family. Over the years, she and her uncle Aemond grow closer. So close that not even the threat of war will tear them apart.

Daella’s handmaidens dressed her for dinner in a deep blue gown with her hair done up in intricate braids. When she arrived at dinner, her family was already there. Instead of taking a seat next to her brothers, she sat next to Heleana.

Aemond sat at the head of the table. He reached over and took Daella’s hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You look beautiful, Little Dragon.”

“I must thank you for the gown, my prince.”

“You are to be a Queen one day. You must dress the part.”

Aegon snorted into his wine and his younger brother glared at him.

Everyone quietly talked amongst themselves as they waited for the King to arrive. Viserys entered, carried on a litter, and everyone stood up. He was placed in his spot for the evening and they sat down.

“How good it is…to see you all tonight…together,” Viserys said.

“Prayer before we begin?” Alicent asked.

“Yes.”

Daella, who had grown up in the Red Keep, still felt awkward when Alicent brought up the Faith of the Seven. Daella herself still believed in the old gods and often found herself talking to the Weirwood tree.

“May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mind the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.”

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bong between out houses. A toast to the young Princes…and their betrothed,” Viserys said.

“Hear, hear!” everyone chanted.

“Well done Jace. You’ll finally get to lie with a woman,” Aegon said.

“Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys, the future Lord of the Tides.”

“Hear, hear.”

“And to Princess Daella and my son Prince Aemond, who have been betrothed for some years. You have been patient and I think now is the time to reward that patience. You will be married in a week’s time.”

Rhaenyra was taken aback. She knew Daella had always favored her one-eyed uncle, but she never imagined they would marry.

Daella turned to Aemond and smiled. She had been waiting for this day.

Daemon was staring Aemond down as Aemond kissed Daella’s hand again.

Viserys struggled to stand. “It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world yet grown so distant from each other in the years past.” Viserys reached up and pulled his golden mask off.

Daella averted her eyes, not wanting to see her grandfather in such a state.

Aemond’s thumb stroked her knuckles in an effort to comfort her.

Even Aegon lowered his eyes.

“My own face is no longer a handsome one if indeed it ever was. But tonight I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king, but your father. Your brother. Your husband and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dargon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

Viserys collapsed into his chair and Rhaenyra stood up.

“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude and my apology.” Rhaenyra sat down.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow,” Alicent said. She stood up. “I raise my cup to you…and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

Rhaenyra smiled at her.

Aegon got up to fill his wine glass and whispered something to Baela, causing Jacaerys to stand up.

Aemond stood up, ready to defend his older brother.

“Aemond,” Daella said, “Please.”

Aemond stared at Jacaerys, waiting for him to do something.

Jacaerys turned to Aegon and playfully punched him in the shoulder before raising his glass in Aemond’s direction. “To Prince Aegon…and Prince Aemond. We have not see each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles. And…to my beloved sister Daella. I regret that we did not get to spend that much time together, but you have grown into a fine woman and I pray that our uncle will make you happy and that you will have many children together.”

“Thank you. And I pray that you and Baela are happy together,” Daella said.

“Beware the beast beneath the boards,” Helaena whispered.

Daella reached over and rubbed her arm.

Helaena suddenly stood up. “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

They were a few snickers and Helaena sat down.

“Was that okay?” Helaena asked Daella.

“Yes, you did very well,” Daella told her aunt.

Aemond smiled at their interaction.

Helaena was very grateful to have Daella to talk to, since people mostly ignored her.

“Good. Let us have some music,” Viserys said.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

||Part 2 ||

||Part 1 here||

A/n: and here it is, part 2, part 3 is going to contain more bonding, the Firefiles taking the reader, along with more sweet moments between Joel, Ellie and the reader along with moments from the second game.

Tag list: @mr-underhills-things

Warning: Character death, blood and gore, implied SA, implied torture, P in V,Creampie.

Word count:2945.

Ellie felt sick to her stomach, she should have done something. She should have been to have the strangers follow her, not you. The girl pulled her knees to her chest. Even though she didn’t know you as long, you were still important to her.

She couldn’t help but look up to you, biting her tongue she inches forward to the man laying still. The back of her hand placing it on his head, his fever down thanks to the medicine you had given him.

“Wake up Joel…please.”

Squeezing her eyes shut she could feel her heart pounding as she felt tears prick her eyes. What was she going to tell Joel if no when he woke up.

Hearing a gasp of air, Ellie nearly fell flat on her ass. Scrambling to the man she did her best to help him sit up.

“Y/n!”

Eyes adjusting to the dim light Joel looked around the room. Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered.

The last thing he remembered was getting impaled and you. “Ellie? Y/n?”

“I’m right here Joel.”

The man let the tension slip from his body for a moment but taking another look at his surroundings and you were nowhere to be found.

“Ellie…where’s Y/n?”

Gritting your teeth, you slowly adjust your body in the makeshift cell you were in. As long as Joel and Ellie were safe, that’s all that mattered.

You had to get out of here, you had to find someway to escape.Taking a deep breath in you walked over to the door trying to giggle the thing lose.

“How are you feeling?”

Turning your attention to the man, to David you narrowed your eyes stepping away from the chained door.

“Super.” You tried not to snarl at the man though you were tired of getting locked in a cell.

“Here.” David slid the food under the door though you were still weary of it. “You should eat- I know you’re hungry, been out for quite sometime.”

“What is it?”

“It’s deer.”

“With some human helping on the side.” Glancing down at the tray you then glared at the man.

“No, no I promise. It’s just deer.”

Ignoring the pain in your stomach you knelt down as you started to eat the deer meat. “You’re a animal.”

“Oh that’s awfully quickly judgment.” David knelt down in front of the cell door watching you. “Considering you and your little friends killed how many men.”

Letting you a low chuckle you slowly licked your lips. “They didn’t give us much of a choice.”

“And you think we have a choice, we kill to survive. Just like you, we take care of our own. By any means necessary.”

Biting your tongue to hold back a scoff you titled your head to the side. “So what now, you gonna chop me up into tiny pieces.”

“I’d rather not. Please tell me your name.”

Shoving the tray away you stood up grasping the bars of the door. “You’re full of shit.”

“On the contrary, I’ve been nothing but honest with you.Now I think it’s your turn.It’s the only way I’m going to be able to convince the others.”

“Convince them of what?”

“That you can turn around.You have heart.You’re loyal and you’re special.” Reaching through the bars you tried not to flinch feeling him caress your cheek.

“Beautiful.”

You felt your stomach drop, you’ve seen that look in his eyes before.It was the same look that he gave you, he touched you the same way.

Placing your hand on top of his you then bent his thumb back. A sharp yell escaped his lips as he pulled his hand away from you. “You stupid bitch. You’re making it very hard to keep you alive.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction seeing the way David was holding his hand close to his chest.

“What am I supposed to tell the others now?”

“Y/n..”

“What?”

“Tell them that Y/N is the sleep deprived woman that broke your fucking finger.”

Glancing at his hand David turned to look at you. “By the time we’re done with you. You’re going to beg to be cut into pieces.See you in the morning Y/N.”

Stepping away from the door you frowned pressing your back against the cold wall, they’ll be alright.

They had to be alright.

Pressing his hand to his wound he glanced at Ellie. She was hiding her worry for him, she was worried about you. He wished he could say something but what could he say? They had nothing to go on.

“How did….when did you know that you loved her Joel?”

He was surprised that she’s ask something like that, he didn’t even know how to answer that question. Working his jaw he started to pack what he might need.

“When she helped my little girl.Sarah and Y/n….they became close.” Joel let out a dry laugh shaking his head. “I just kept thinking to myself. One day I’m gonna ask her out but I was to much of a coward then the next thing I was walking her down the aisle at my brothers wedding.”

“You’ve loved her for that long? Wow…so you’re gonna tell Y/N…right? Because I’m pretty sure she.”

“Ellie…not now…let’s just…find her please.”

“…okay.”

Slinging his pack over his shoulder he walked towards the garage door. “Let’s go.”

Joel gritted his teeth as he beat the man in front of him. He’d made sure not to reopen the wound you switched closed.

“Man what do you want?”

Ignoring the other man tied to the chair he laid his fist across the guys face one last time.

“What the fuck?!”

“You wait here” stepping away from the guy Joel then made his way towards the one tied in the chair, grabbing a knife he the pulled his own chair over. “Now, the woman…is she alive?”

“What woman? I don’t know no woman.”

Gritting his teeth, Joel sighed through his teeth as he stabbed the blade through the man’s knee.

“Fuuck.”

Leaning in, Joel smacked his face forcing the guy to look up at him. “Focus right here, right here.Or I’ll pop your goddamn kneecap off.The woman.”

“In the town. In the town.”

Nodding his head Joel then pulled the now bloodied blade then shoved it in the man’s mouth. “Now you’re gonna mark it on the map and it better be the same exact spot your Buddy points to.”Holding up the map Joel watched him closely. “Mark it.”

“It’s right there.You can verify it. Go ask him.Go on.”

Standing up, Joel folded up the map then placed it in back pocket.

“He’ll tell ya. I ain’t lyin’. I aint lyin’.”

Stepping behind the man tied in the chair Joel then wrapped his arm around his throat choking him, not stopping until he felt the man’s neck break. Placing his hand on the wound he started to walk towards the other guy.

“Fuck you, man. He told you what you wanted.I ain’t tellin you shit.”

Grabbing the pipe on the ground Joel nodded his head. “That’s alright. I believe him.”

“No wait!”

Shivering you curled up doing your best to stay warm, the thin coat doing nothing to help keep you warm. “I’m sorry I never told you how I felt.”

Feeling a pair of hand on your arms a hand placed it’s self on your moth to hide your scream as you get yourself get pulled from the cell you were in. Struggling against the arms you tried to escape but you are just so tired.

“Let go!”

Feeling another hand come close you sunk your teeth into the flesh only to get kneed in your stomach. Your breath getting knocked out of you as you doubled over, your body hitting a cold table as David and some other man pinned you to it.

David’s hand clutching your pants, the man slowly unbuttoning them. You squeezed your eyes shut. Your mind flashing back to Jerry, to what happened when the Fireflies held you captive. “I’m infected! I’m infected.” Your voice was raw and you didn’t care if they killed you.

“Really.”

Letting out a laugh you turned your head towards David. “And so are you. Right here, my stomach.Push it up if you don’t believe me.”

“I’ll play along.” Slamming the machete next to your head to tried not to flinch. Doing your best to calm your racing heart you watched as David slowly push your shirt up. The bite on your stomach not changing much the past 20 years, something you were grateful of now. A chuckle escaping your lips. “What did you say? Everything happens for a reason, right?”

“What the hell is that?”

Said turned to glance at the other man shaking his head. “No! She would have turned by now. It can’t be real.”

“Looks pretty fucking real to me!”

Glancing at his hand you then took the chance to grab the machete slamming it in the man’s neck then rolled off the table as David fired his gun at you.Closing your eyes you glanced at the table grabbing a small blade.Taking a deep breath in you then took off into the snow storm. “What the fuck is wrong with these people.”

Ignoring David shouting at you, you knew that you had to find a gun, find anything to protect you.You could feel your heart pounding as you slipped into different buildings, the people knew about you, and you felt like it was only going to get worse.

Breathing heavily you slipped into another building. Your eyes glancing at the ovens holding a fire, you must be in some restaurant now. Making your war towards the door you started to open it only to be grabbed by David, his hands wrapping around the gun you had found. “You’re easy to track.” Body hitting the ground you managed to hit a lantern knocking it to the ground, the carpet catching on fire. Using that as a distraction you took off running again as you hid behind a booth.

“That’s right. There’s no where to go! Oh just wait until I get my hands on you…you want out you’re gonna have to get a hold of these keys.”

Using what ever you could to distract the man you knew that he was right. You just felt sick to your stomach hearing the things that he was going to do to you, it made your skin crawl.

You weren’t sure how much you could take, you were started of get tired, started to get weak from all this running and hiding. Hand shaking you waited until he passed you one last time you launched yourself at the man.The blade in your hand stabbing into his side.Flipping you off his back you felt your breath get knocked out of you as David wrapped his hands around your throat.

“Looking at you…still got the fight? Such a naughty girl.”

Feeling tears prick your eyes you get your fingers brush his fallen blade as you felt his hand push up your shirt.

“Might as well have a little fun with you”

Once your hand finally grasped the hilt you slammed it into his shoulder. Once he let you go, you crawled onto the man. Raising the blade you started to stab him over and over again. A cry tore form your lips.Everything hitting you all at once, the memories of what that Scientist did. What David and his men were going to do, you just wanted it to be done with.

“Stop! Stop!”

Feeling hands tug you off the body of David a sob tore from your lips. “No! Let me go!”You couldn’t even process what was happening, who was holding you. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“It’s alright! It’s me! It’s me!” Grabbing your face Joel made you look at him. Your body shaking as you then broke down, sobs escaping your lips. “It’s me.”

“He tried…he was going too.” Feeling your body get tugged into Joel’s chest. His hand caressing your back.

“Oh darlin…It’s okay. It’s okay.” Cradling you to his chest he felt your fingers clutch his jacket.

“Joel.”

“It’s okay now.” Kissing your head, he frowned spotting Ellie, the young girl watching you both. He knew she was worried and right now the the only thing he wanted was to get you to a safe place. Cupping your cheeks as he wiped away your tears.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

Once he knew they were safe Joel peered into the room where Ellie was. A sigh escaping his lips spotting that the girl was a sleep. She spent a lot of time with you until you told here that you were fine but he knew that was a lie. You’ve always been good at hiding your emotions and he just knew that you didn’t want to worry her.

Slipping into the room you were in, Joel then grabbed a cloth along with a water bottle as he wetted the cloth. “How are you doin.”

Not looking up you weren’t sure if you should lie or just tell the man the truth. “I…”

Sighing Joel then knelt down in front of you, cleaning the blood off your face you lent into his palm. “It’s alright Y/n. I’m just happy that you’re here.”

Finally meeting Joel’s gaze you felt your eyes start to water. You weren’t quite sure what came over you but looking at him now you knew that you couldn’t contain your feelings for him anymore. Leaning in close you sealed the distance with your lips. Joel tensing for a moment unsure on how to react until he finally relaxed into the kiss.

Breaking the kiss, Joel took a deep breath as he looked into your eyes. “Y/n? I don’t.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long Joel, to realize how I feel about you.” You whispered, your thumb sliding across his cheek.

Letting out a low chuckle, he pressed his head against yours. “That’s quite alright Y/N. I’d wait a life time for you.” Grasping your chin he then pulled you in for another kiss. The man pushing you to the bed, his hand slowly sliding up your shirt, towards your breasts. His hand hovering for a moment. “I’m so-.”

“Please Joel…don’t stop….I want this.” His touch was different, different than the others, different than his. You felt loved, you felt important, you felt good.

“Only if you’re sure darlin.”Hovering over your frame Joel watched you bite your lip.

“I’m sure.”

That’s all it took, Joel pressed his lips against yours again. His tongue gliding over yours, his hand moving to your pants. Slowly unbuttoning it, you raised your hips for the man as you felt him pepper kisses across your skin. His beard tickling you as a sharp gaps escaped your lips feeling his fingers dip into your warmth.

His name escaped your lips as your fingers then dug into the sheets below you. “Joel.”

Teeth biting your neck you closed your eyes, the rest of your clothes slipping off your body, Joel hovering over you, his hands now gripping your hips. “You are beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

Feeling your skin grow hot you then peered at the man. You could feel your heart pound in your chest. Joel was fit, fitter than any of the men in the Firefiles and he was big. So big, biting your lip you squeezed your legs shut.You watched as his dick twitched, pre cum leaking from the tip though it was that smirk he was giving you was what was doing you in.

“I’m gonna make you feel good darlin. I promise you that.”

Giving you another kiss, Joel slowly slipped into your warmth. His groan muffled against your lips, your nails digging into his back as he slowly started to thrust.Breaking the kiss, he then moved to suck and nip at your jaw.One hand messaging your breast, thumb playing with the nipple as his other hand move to play with your clit.

You felt so good wrapped around him, he couldn’t remember the last time he’s felt this good during sex. He could feel his heart pound in his chest as he felt your walls wrap around his cock, your juices coating him as he watched your teeth sink in your lower lip to muffle a cry as you road out your orgasm. Your hips rose from the bed as Joel drew you in.

“I’m gonna fill you Y/n…You’re gonna take all of me you’re gonna look good doing it”

A small whimper left your lips, you knew you had to stay quite but it felt so good. You could feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm.Your nails digging deeply into his skin feeling him thrust in and out of you. Knowing you are getting close you ran your fingers through his hair nipping at his lips as your tongue ran over his as Joel finally released within you.

His cum coating your walls, his nails digging into your hips tightly that you were positive that it would leave a mark.

Pacing a kiss to the side of your head, Joel shifted his body so that your back with to his chest, his softened dick sliding out of your warmth the man a little embarrassed as the cum leaked from your cunt. Clearing out his throat he pressed his face into the back of your neck his fingers weaving through yours.

A satisfied sigh leaving your lips, you could feel sleep slowly taking over as you took Joel’s hand. “I love you Joel.”

Smiling Joel let his body finally relax, his heart fluttering. “I love you too darlin.”