anyone else who thinks this is fucking terrifying? he’s straight up telling everyone to blame the judge and the entire court system for any future terrorist attack. this isn’t just mr. pissboy throwing a tantrum, it’s worse than that. this is preparing the groundwork, so that when a terrorist attack happens, trump can blame the court system and justify weakening it to gain more power. it’s the fucking Reichstag fire
all over again
This one was inspired by this gorgeous pic. I blame it fully for this drabble and its tooth-rotting fluff.
The garden had been a sanctuary for Azriel and Elain since the very start of their relationship, back when they had been nothing more than tentative friends thrown together in a time of need. But even then, Azriel had always enjoyed being able to sit on one of the many benches, wings out as he quietly watched Elain tend to the blooming flowers. It was a still, soothing peace – one that he had often yearned for in his long existence, but rarely attained. His friends were a rowdy bunch after all, and the world was forever a dangerous place; far too dangerous to allow him any measure of rest.
But Elain, lovely Elain… she could calm Azriel down like no other and yet could also set him all ablaze with a single touch. (She was shy and sweet, no doubt, but underneath all of that careful poise, underneath all of the ingrained manners and etiquette, was a fiercely passionate heart. She was truly a wondrous thing to behold, in every aspect of life.)
As their relationship progressed from friendship into something else entirely, they spent more and more of their time in the garden of the house she kept with her sisters. Azriel treasured the moments they had together amidst the carefully manicured plants… Like when he would be lounging on his usual bench, eyes closed against the bright sun, until Elain would suddenly be at his side, a small smile tugging at berry-colored lips. She’d settle softly next to him without out a word, her body half on top of his so they could both fit on the bench’s narrow iron frame.
There was just nothing quite like the sheer warmth of those moments. He hoped the memories of them would forever stay clear in his mind, that even decades, centuries from now, he would remember the feeling of Elain Archeron lying atop his chest, her head tucked into the crook of his neck as he ran his fingers through soft, soft hair.
The first time she’d done it, laid with him like that, she’d been so hesitant, afraid of making the wrong move, of scaring him off… afraid of asking for what she truly wanted after she’d had her heart so brutally broken. But when Azriel had opened his eyes to find her standing nervously in front of his bench, her hand half raised towards him, he had only reached out and tugged her onto him. He could bear her weight easily, and would gladly do so for as long as she wished. Elain, for her part, had worn a soft smile as she slowly relaxed into his body, her cheeks flushed with color. There was no embarrassment in her countenance, however, not with Azriel.
So, yes, their time in the garden was precious. It was a place so wholly peaceful that even Azriel, who lived the majority of his life wreathed in shadows, who greeted pain as an old friend, could not help but bask in it. It was also the only place that seemed to ease the visions that so often plagued Elain. Though it did not happen nearly as often as it once had, there were still days where her mind was so full of the threads of their futures that she could barely think. Days where Azriel could do nothing more than be there and listen to the soft murmurings of futures he could barely decipher, watching over the world around them as Elain’s eyes remained clouded and sightless.
There was nothing else he could do… but bring her into their favorite sanctuary. The peace of the garden helped to rein in her visions, the quiet buzz of life around them giving her strength. It was the familiarity, Azriel thought, that helped her most; the one tie apart from her sisters that she continued to have to her former mortal life.
Today was another bad day. Azriel had awoken to Elain’s feverish mutterings, had tried to calm her in his usual way (soft hands stroking down her sides, kisses pressed to her shoulders as he tried to bring her back into the present). When that didn’t work, he immediately wrapped a shawl around Elain’s shoulders (modest even in immortality, Azriel knew she be humiliated if she woke to find herself in nothing but her thin night gown) and spared a brief moment to pull on some pants, forgoing a shirt in his urgency. He lifted Elain gently, holding her tight to his bare chest as he walked them down into the ever-peaceful garden.
Instead of heading to their bench, however, he sat amidst the grass, Elain laying against him in the v of his legs. He knew that she would come back faster down here, amidst the product of all her hard work, the flowers rustling in a gentle breeze. So Azriel sat, keeping his arms around the seer as a reminder that he was there, but loose enough that she didn’t feel locked in. (It was hard for her, when her body was here with him, but her mind elsewhere. She was often panicked when she came back.)
Azriel sat and he did what he did best. He listened. His wings were a shelter around them, the riddles of Elain’s visions contained within as she muttered them to him. Azriel memorized them all, catalogued them for later. He was the spymaster after all, even on days like these.
Slowly, slowly he felt Elain return from wherever she’d been. He only relaxed fully when she crawled away from him though, her hands going into the flowers all around them. Her mind was still half in the future, eyes slightly glazed, but she kept her hands busy, using the task in front of her to regain control. Azriel watched as she methodically picked flowers, weaving them together with a kind of artistry that all of the Archeron sisters, even Nesta, seemed to possess.
He stayed carefully silent as he leaned back onto his elbows, his attention never wavering from Elain. She looked so heart-achingly beautiful in the dawn light, soft and gentle but with that innate strength of hers shining through as she slowly mastered her powers.
And then she finally, finally blinked. Her eyes were clear as they gazed at him. Blessedly lucid.
“There she is,” he said softly, proudly.
Elain immediately smiled, even through her exhaustion and pain. She crawled back into his embrace, wrapped loose arms around his shoulders as she ducked her forehead against his. Her eyes closed. “Hello,” she said, her voice filled with relief.
Azriel’s hand went under her hair to rest on the back of her neck. “Hello,” he responded in kind.
(There would be time to question her about the visions later. She deserved a little bit of peace first. She always did. Azriel would have given everything he had, if only he could continue to give Elain Archeron the peace she deserved.)
She shifted back a bit from him, her arms falling into her lap as she looked at the flowery creation she held in one hand. Her fingers trailed over the red and pink petals.
“What’s that?” he asked.
A mischievous glint lit in Elain’s tired eyes. “It’s for you.” She crooked a finger at him, gesturing for him to duck forward.
He did so. And then Elain reached up placed the flowers atop his head, hands almost benevolent as she settled them in his hair. Azriel blinked in surprise. A crown. She’d made him a crown. He felt something like heat fly to his cheeks.
“I’m not entirely sure a spy like me is fit to wear a crown,” Azriel finally managed to reply, sardonic.
Elain watched him for a moment, her fingers tracing over the whorls of the Illyrian tattoos that covered his shoulders. (Their design was unlike those of his brothers – these swirls looked like smoke and mist and shadow.) Finally, she looked up to meet his burning gaze. “You’re much more than just a spy, Azriel,” she said in a soft voice that left no room for argument. “And you deserve more than just a crown.”
He had to swallow past the emotion in his throat when she took one of his hands in hers, kissing the inside of his scarred palm without fear or revulsion.
“Regardless, I think something’s missing here,” Azriel told her after a pause, reaching out to pick a pretty white flower with his free hand. He put it gently behind her ear, tucking her hair around it. “There. Now we match.”
Elain responded with rosy cheeks and a smile… and then by throwing her arms around him again, pressing kisses to his jaw. She was always so beautifully tactile with him, especially after a vision. He buried his head in her neck for a long moment, wanting to just breathe her in. Her arms tightened around him at that, fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. Azriel held on long enough to be surrounded by nothing but Elain, by her comforting scent.
When he reluctantly loosened his hold, she didn’t go far, only placing her forehead against his. This time she kept her eyes open though, and he would had to be blind not to see the love and adoration and want shining there.
“Hello,” he said again, his mouth mere inches from hers, his voice rough.
“Hello,” she replied, breathless.
Azriel’s eyes flicked down to her lips for the briefest moment. “I’m going to have to kiss you now.”
Elain smiled, a thing so bright it was almost painful. “If you insist.”
And he did. After all, how could he not? It was Elain.
i’ve been waiting for a steam sale ever since this game came out for pc i can’t afford 60 bucks okay but man im really hope enix patches up the game b4 then b/c there’s been reviews that’s been saying that it’s buggy on the pc orz
Warnings: Smut, nsfw, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, use of toys, dom / sub, punishment, slight bondage, unprotected sex
Word Count: 1400
Summary: Bucky punishes you after you’ve been a bad girl
I sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but my matching black lace bra and panties, hands tucked under my thighs like commanded. The cool air in the bedroom was tickling my bare skin, causing a shiver to roll down my spine, goosebumps rising over my arms and legs. I had been sitting here waiting for twenty minutes and the anticipation of what was coming was making it hard to sit still. My arousal already pooling hot in the pit of my belly.
I closed my eyes and bit hard on my bottom lip, taking a long breath as I pictured Bucky’s face clearly in my mind. We’d been at the club, drinking, celebrating. And maybe I’d pushed his buttons by looking at Pietro a little too fondly, and maybe Pietro’s hands had wandered a little too low while we were dancing; whatever it was though Bucky had passed jealous within seconds and arrived furious. He tugged me back against his chest and away from Pietro’s sticky fingers, making sure I felt the press of his erection along the crease of my ass as he whispered heavily in my ear that I was going to pay for it later. Honestly, that had been the exact reaction I’d been hoping for.
I moaned quietly, clenching my thighs together as I imagined what he might be doing later. Bucky never kept punishments the same, he mixed it up so I never knew what to expect, so I never knew what was coming.
“What are you thinking about?”
My eyes popped open as Bucky’s voice broke my train of thought, the breath catching in my throat as I watched him walk towards me, only dressed in his dark jeans from earlier, the hard planes of his chest illuminated in the soft light in the bedroom. Suddenly remembering what he’d asked I shook my head quickly. “Nothing,” I stammered out. Bucky clicked his tongue, shaking one of his metal fingers at me. “Nothing?” He repeated. “Are you sure you weren’t thinking about Pietro’s hands all over you?”
I shook my head again, wetting my lips with my tongue. “N - no, I wasn’t thinking of him.” “Good girl.”
Bucky knelt in front of me, tracing each of his hands up the fronts of my legs until he reached my knees, the corners of his lips picking up into a smirk as he pulled them apart. I inhaled sharply through my nose as he lent forward between my legs, pulling out a wooden box from under the bed.
Bucky rifled through it for a second before looking up at me, nodding towards the top of the bed.
“Go and lie down, hands above your head.” I did so without question, getting myself comfortable on the pillows before lifting my arms up, my eyes staying on Bucky as he lent over me, his breath ghosting over my face as he secured my wrists to the headboard with the silk scarves he had hold of. I tested them as soon as he was finished; they were tight but not enough that it was cutting any circulation off.
↠ ceo!namseok x reader;
using their ties as a leash; lots of dirty talk and hickies and all that ↠ warning: smut (daddy kink, sir kink, kitten kink, blindfolds, leashes, threesome, slight breath play?, it’s all just nasty read with caution)
“How about we try this, kitten. I’ll fuck you until you can’t even remember anyone else who’s been with you before, and you can give your daddy a blowjob better than anyone else has, hm?”
Terry’s fifth birthday is a big one. Your home ends up filled with other five year olds and their parents. It’s all hands on deck for the big day, as the kids run all over the house. Despite having done this countless times before you’re more than a little stressed.
Between making sure the kids don’t kill each other, and keeping the society climbing mothers away, you’re stressed to your max. You do your best to hide in the kitchen, as the older kids corral the younger ones. “Never again.”
You roll your eyes, “You say that every time.”
Bruce scowls, “And every time I think it can’t get worse, it does.”
You hmmm, “So are we going to cancel Cass’ birthday?”
Bruce scowls, “Of course not. I’m just saying an event planner is something to invest in.”
“They’re children’s birthday parties. We don’t need an event planner.”
“Just a clean up crew.”
You take a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and kiss your husband’s cheek, “We’ll survive. Now go mingle with the other dads.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes, because I have to mingle with the vipers that are their mothers.”
You slip out of the kitchen and allow your eyes to scan the crowd. Your eyes find a group of moms and you steel your nerves and force yourself to walk over. You approach from behind, just in case you chicken out. That’s when you hear them, “She didn’t even give poor Bruce a chance.”
There’s a giggle, “I know. How she tricked him into marrying her, I’ll never know.”
“I mean really. Running away together and getting pregnant right off the bat, it’s the oldest trick in the book.”
“And look at how many they have. Six biological kids, and then the two orphans, what is she trying to prove?”
“She’s not even that pretty. Her body has certainly gone to hell.”
You bite the inside of your lip to keep from saying something. Stepping back, the nausea takes over and you slink back into the shadows. You slip upstairs and into your room. Your lunch makes a reappearance, before you collapse on your bed. The bed dips a moment later, and a head rests on your back.
Glancing back you grin at Duke, “What’s up kiddo?”
“They’re harpies. Mean bitter old women who are miserable in their own lives and looking to feel better about themselves.”
You sit up and he does too. Duke was a person who thrived on touch. His own parents had been big on hugs. You had sought to continue that. And as he had adjusted to your home, he’d grown comfortable in seeking reassurance, and finding his place in the family.
“I was playing hide and seek with Terry and his friends, I was under the table.”
“Did you win?”
He nods, “Yep, but I might have scared those women. I jumped out from underneath. One spilled wine down the front of her dress.”
You can’t help it, you laugh. “This would be the point I would normally parent, but I’m too exhausted right now.”
“So does that mean we’re off scot free.”
You blink at the sound of a new voice before several heads pop up. You smile as all your kids climb up onto the bed. Terry climbs right into your lap, “Thank you for my party mama.”
You kiss the top of his head, “You’re welcome baby.”
Turning to your older kids you ask, “You were all hiding under the table?”
Jason shrugs, “We all think alike. I blame dad.”
Cass places a hand on your knee and signs “You’re very pretty mama.”
Tim nods, “What she said. They’re just mean.”
Dick’s smile is easy going but you can see the anger hidden below the surface, “I think from now on, these parties should only be family and close friends.”
There’s a chorus of agreement before a moment of silence settles over the group, “I like having a big family.”
Your eyes flash to Helena. Her eyes are thoughtful, “Sure sometimes these guys are annoying, and they only leave like three chips in a bag, but they’re always here for me.”
Jason echos the sentiment, “There’s always been someone to talk to, or play with, or blame.” You raise an eyebrow at the last one but he just smirks.
“There’s always someone to help us with homework, or spar against.” Damian chirps in.
Duke smiles, “We’re a family.”
You smile, “Very true, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” With smiles on their face you watch your kids leave the room.
You sit there on the bed for a few more minutes, and wait for Bruce to peek his head in. “How are you feeling?”
He nods, and takes a seat next to you, “That’s common at this stage.” There’s a moment of silence before he asks, “Should we even bother saying this will be the last one?”
You smile, “This is the last one.”
Bruce wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close, “You sure about that?”
Your hands go to your belly, “No.”
“Duke’s right you know.”
“You’re amazing, and beautiful.”
You smile, “Those harpies were right. I have stretch marks, and a flabby tummy. Lord knows I’m not nearly as put together as I should be.”
Bruce’s hand goes to cover yours, “This belly has carried six babies, and is now carrying a seventh. You’re a mother to eight soon to be nine children it’s understandable that you’re not magazine cover ready. And the most important thing, you are gorgeous, and courageous, and I thank God for you every day, because you are the love of my life.”
Leaning into your husband you take in the amount of happiness that’s surrounding you, and you smile.
Title: Heartbeat Pt. IV Pairing: Josh Dun/Reader, Tyler Joseph/Reader Rating: Mature Warnings: Rough stuff, angst, drama, more fluff than usual. It’s time for shit to get real this part, you guys. A/N: This is gonna be the second to last part of the series, so I hope you guys enjoy. Once I finish this, I’ve got a lot more fun stuff up my sleeve for yall!