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crackedpumpkin · 2 months

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The Red String Theory (02)

𝗕𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 - 流放 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 | 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 a/n: t.w: Mentions of sexual assault in the middle of the chapter, please do not read if you're uncomfortable with it.

Another day, another basketful of laundry to wash, hang dry, and steam to perfection. The sun is no foe to underestimate either. On some days you’re grateful, because having its strong rays dry the clothes quickly means less work in between, while other days almost give you heatstroke a couple times.

The day after you were informed of your mother’s passing, you reported to Mei Yi, the head maid of the palace who had then proceeded to loudly identify you as the daughter of the dead dancer. It stung, of course, but you promised yourself not to cry.

But that didn’t mean it was easy to hold yourself back from launching at the grown woman for a fistfight.

She had assigned you only the hardest chores of scrubbing the floors of the Grand Ballroom, and hand washing all the Prince’s garments. You had a difficult time; your muscles constantly aching after work when you got home to Hanoh.

Hanoh was nothing short of an angel like always, constantly taking care of you and making sure you had a full meal when you got back home. She’s the only reason why you survived up till now.

Your mother wasn’t able to have a proper funeral, but Fire Lord Ozai had allowed for you to create a small shrine in your home. It didn’t mean much though. You were too poor to afford a portrait, and her body was never recovered from the palace. All he allowed to be sent back were the accessories and garments she’d worn.

Now, her necklace dangles from your neck as you carry the basket of dried laundry back to the main steaming room, where all wrinkles would get steamed out by other maids. On the way back, a couple of them say hello, having gradually warmed up to you after witnessing you scrub the floors and accomplish all of Mei Yi’s unfair tasks without complaint.

It was worth it to see her astonished expression at the spotless floor.

Meals had also improved, from the first one being quarter of a loaf of bread and barely any soup being carelessly thrown to you, to an actual plate of rice with vegetables and some meat on the occasional good days.

The cooks had taken pity on you, and it definitely helped that you were nothing short of scrawny after a couple weeks of pathetic meals being served. Rumours of how Fire Lord Ozai had favoured your mother circulated throughout the palace, but no one was allowed to speak of her after her death.

“Where’re you off to again, Wildfire?” Wei Yi, one of the cooks asks as you walk past the kitchen’s open doors. She dusts off the flour on her hands from making the pile of noodles on the side of the counter, walking over with a small packet.

“You know me, the usual laundry drill. Mei Yi decided to give me the honourable task of washing the clothes of our nation’s rising suns,” You answer sarcastically, holding up the basket of red and gold clothes to prove your point.

She chuckles, handing you the packet in her hands. You open it and look inside, eyes wide when you see the dried deer meat she’s prepared for you. Making sure no one else saw, you stuff it in your pocket and give her a thankful nod.

“Go easy on my cousin this time, won’t you?” Wei Yi jokes. You shrug nonchalantly, though a smile plays on your lips.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Attagirl.” It was during the third week of Mei Yi’s harsh words and utterly hard to please standards that Wei Yi had taken a step forward, defending you. You’d been shocked to find out that they were distant cousins, which was why after that day the difficult tasks were reduced.

Ever since then, Wei Yi had taken care of you in small ways, and it took about a few months for you to completely open up to her. Majority of the maids still kept a wary eye on you, but the bullying had stopped after you exposed another maid for talking blatantly about the Princess.

You then solidified your position as not one to be messed with when you managed to get the attention of Fire Lord Ozai. It was simple enough. He had power, and you needed some. All it took was framing a maid for poisoning his meal. She deserved it though, for talking about your mother the way she did.

Physical wounds may heal, but the wounds on your heart won’t.

If only your mother could see you now.

Time passes quickly, and your 13th birthday is already coming up next week. The first few birthdays without your mother were spent locked up in your room, unable to bear the thought of growing older without her. One day though, you decided to try drawing a portrait of her, and that finally got you out of the room. From then on, you’d always have a birthday cake in front of the small shrine in the living room, imagining her singing happy birthday to you.

Your chest aches at the thought of her, shoving down all emotion that starts to arise in your chest at the memory of her laugh that seems to echo in the halls of the palace. When you close your eyes, you can almost imagine her running down them with your hand in hers, introducing each and every corner when she danced for the Fire Lord on occasion.

“Delivery,” You announce, placing the basket on the table next to the door. The other girls give you a mere glance of acknowledgement, continuing to do their work. That’s fine. You’re used to it. It’s not like they’d simply warm up to you, not after what you did to some.

You leave without so much as a glance back, heading to the lessons Ozai had commanded you to take. Maths, calligraphy, and history were the main three, while the one that took up the most time was dance. Clearly, he wanted you to follow in your mother’s footsteps considering that he’s made you perform in front of him and his ministers regularly.

You hated the smug smile on his face every time, high on the knowledge that he could say a single word and you would end up with a fate exactly like your mother’s. Your dance teacher is different, treating you like an imbecile and working you to the bone. The first time you had a class with her, she’d forced your legs wide open and pushed your pelvis to the ground, forcefully making you do the splits.

It hurt like hell, but now you’re grateful since it occasionally comes in handy during chores.

“Have you never been taught to be punctual?” You secretly roll your eyes at Mei Yi’s shrill voice, following her pompous figure to the dance academy located near the palace. “It’s already been 4 years, and you’re still the unruly child that showed up at the doorstep. You should be grateful to your mother I suppose, since his Majesty’s favour still continues after her death.”

You automatically tune her out as you walk, unbothered by the same speech she’s been reciting for 3 years. You wonder if she’s written it down somewhere for her children to keep saying.

Soon, the prominent signboard of the academy comes into view, and you all but race toward it. She huffs and snaps her red parasol shut, glaring at you. “Mind your manners you urchin, or you might stain the name of the palace!”

‘Oh, a thousand apologies, I didn’t get the chance to learn about them before the Fire Lord killed my mom.’ You bite your tongue to keep the words from coming out, but she can sense your impudence coming from a mile away, so she merely huffs and turns around to leave.

Once she’s out of your sight, you heave a sigh of relief, going through the doors. This might be hell, but being around her is pure torture.

“You’re late.”

Never mind. Being here is infinitely worse. You wince at your instructor’s strict words, watching her approach you with a dissatisfied look. “I’m sorry, I rushed over as soon as I could, but-”

“Did I ask for excuses?”

You press your lips together, lowering your head. “No, Ms Wu.” Luckily, she walks away and you exhale shakily. You’d never get used to this. Today must be a good day though, since she didn’t continue scolding you. On some days it’d escalate to full on rants shouted at your face.

She sits on a chair in the corner, watching you with a sharp eye. “Do your drills.”

You obey, taking the ribbon and doing a couple of stretches before beginning the routines she’d drilled into you. Your muscles are on autopilot, legs stiff and hands relaxed as you lift them up and do a spin.

“Again.”

You begin from the start once more, trying not to let her dissatisfaction get to you. However, you don’t even get halfway through before she interrupts.

“Again.”

You try to fully focus this time, inhaling deeply to calm your raging thoughts.

“Again.”

You’re used to this. You can take it.

“Again.”

It’s only an hour, it won’t be long.

“Again.”

In the end, it takes 64 run-throughs before Ms Wu is finally satisfied. She releases you with an icy stare and dismissive wave, letting you go back to the palace to perform yet again for Fire Lord Ozai.

You’d gotten changed and some maids had helped with makeup and hair. Hoping that you’re not late, you race through the hallways and down to the main dining hall, where Fire Lord Ozai, his ministers, and hired musicians wait for your presence.

“You’re late.”

Oh no. You immediately bow your head, trying to catch your breath as you apologize to him. The sight of you grovelling at his feet for mercy is a guaranteed escape from further punishment. You confirmed this when you saw the twisted grin on his face when you peeked at him through your sleeves.

Thankfully, this time is no different. He dismisses it with a wave, though his eyes glint dangerously as his gaze settles on you. Proceeding to ignore him and everyone else like you’d done every time, you raise your hands, getting into position.

As the first note rings through the air, you dance.

Twirls and spins are the least of your worries, all your previous anger and frustration at Mei Yi, Mrs Wu, and the group of people watching vanishes. Somewhere in the dance, your eyes close, imagining how your mother felt while doing the exact same thing.

Was she scared? Terrified? Had she always given her best regardless? Did she truly love what she did? How would she react to seeing you now? Questions are meaningless in the face of reality, but it’s little comfort to feel her presence through your fluid movements and graceful steps. Maybe she’d even be a little proud.

Would she really?

Your eyes snap open as the song ends, rapidly trying to catch your breath once more. Your gaze automatically lands on Fire Lord Ozai, hands clasping together under your long sleeves and praying desperately that he’d be satisfied with this performance.

His cold eyes look at you for a long while. Not even his ministers dared say anything, though they all gave you applause at the end. But their opinion didn’t matter, not when the Fire Lord enjoyed toying with your life as if it were mere string unravelled from a neat ball of yarn.

He gives a single nod, no other indicator of whether or not he’s pleased. That’s okay. It’s more than enough to know that you’re able to live for at least another two weeks. As you make your way out of the hall, you’re stopped when someone tries to call out to you.

Your steps slow to a halt, waiting for the official to catch up. He’s decently handsome, with dimples and a strong build. He leans against the pillar next to you, taking a moment. You raise a brow, curious of his intentions. No other person would approach you besides the maids when they needed something done.

“Can I help you?”

He stands up properly with a cocky grin. “I’m here to make you an offer.”

“An offer?”

“Yes,” He suddenly takes your hand in his, causing you to flinch when he plants a kiss atop it. “One that you will like, I’m sure. Haven’t you ever dreamed of being outside the palace walls? I can provide you with that. You see, I was captivated by your dancing ever since I first laid eyes on you. You’re stunning.”

“Oh…” You’re not entirely sure whether to feel disgusted or flattered. You’d never been complimented by anyone before, be it for dancing or anything else. What are you supposed to do? How’re you supposed to react? “Thank you…?”

“Which is why,” He suddenly pulls you close to him, your entwined hands the only thing between you two as you gasp, “You should marry me.”

It takes a moment for you to register his words. “What?”

“Be my wife.”

He’s completely serious about this, you can tell from his gaze. But his eyes drop from yours to your neck, his other hand on your waist and slowly tracing down to your hips. “You can get everything you’d ever want,” he whispers into your ear, “Freedom, riches, power…All you have to do is marry me.”

This is wrong. Something’s wrong. This isn’t the type of marriage Hanoh would tell you about. This isn’t one of love and promises for a better life, this one is filled with leers and dark words that try to tempt you over to him.

His fingers are dangerously close to your butt. In his overconfidence, his grip has loosened. You take the chance to shove him away, using the one card you’ve kept hidden up your sleeve.

You firebend.

Flames devour his hand, eating away hungrily, and it only burns brighter the more hatred you allow the fire to use as its kindling. Your entire being is repulsed by the sight of him, relishing in the way he falls to the ground with a cry, cradling his burning hand.

“You’re disgusting.” You manage to say, feeling icky all over. “You just want to own me. I’m only 13, you creep! I hope you die!” You hawk a gob of saliva and spit it at him, watching it land on his cheek. “If you ever try that again on anyone, I’ll make sure your hand isn’t the only thing gone.” You say icily, walking away before breaking into a run.

The door slams shut behind you. Making your way to the pail next to your bed, you grab the soap and washcloth, stripping down and starting to wash yourself, scrubbing away at the pale skin. The motions are repetitive, yet they’re not enough to rid the slimy feeling of that disgusting man’s touch.

The more you scrub, the more disgust you feel. The washcloth isn’t enough. You resort to using your fingernails, letting them dig away at your skin as you scratch obsessively. Beads of blood bloom from the scratches you inflict, only stopping when the soap stings the open wounds.

It’s only then that you bring your knees close to your chest, letting the tears fall.

— — — — — —

“What do you mean Zuko was in an Agni Kai?”

“I’ve told you not to refer to the Prince with his actual name! You’re lucky no one else was around to hear that, or you’d be thrown in prison,” Wei Yi scolds, reaching her hand out to lightly hit the top of your head. She’s surprised when you flinch away, a reaction she’s never seen from you. You uncomfortably adjust your uniform, averting your eyes.

She retracts her hand, letting it go as she hands you yet another little treat. You don’t bother to check it before putting it in your pocket. She raises a brow, suspicious. “Did something happen?”

You pause, shoulders stiffening when you recall the events of yesterday. Shaking your head helps to shove those memories down for now, looking back at her. “...No, I’m fine. I’m just feeling a little ill.”

“I told Mei Yi not to work you to the bone,” Wei Yi sighs, leaning back as she chops up more vegetables. “There’re other maids for a reason.”

“It’s fine. But what was that you were saying about Zu- the prince, getting into an Agni Kai? I thought he’s still under training.” You ask, handing her another knife.

“I’m not sure. All I heard was that he and his father got into a dispute, and it didn’t end well for him. You and him are on good terms, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say good…” Besides Wei Yi, the next person to have shown you kindness, no matter how small, was Prince Zuko. The first time you met him was in the garden. He was staring aimlessly at the sky, oblivious to the lack of sandals on his feet. You’d rushed over and informed him that only the Crown Prince and Princess were allowed inside.

He looked at you blankly, answering you with a simple ‘I know’. That’s when you realised whom you were talking to. You’d apologised, of course, bowing your head repeatedly and begging for your life to be spared. Instead, he gestured for you to come over and sit next to him.

Sitting next to him was terrifying, but being away from your gruelling work made it seem like a luxury. The gentle breeze caressed your faces as he opened up about his mother, finding solace in a complete stranger. It was a moment of bonding between you both, having lost your mothers to the same person.

His duties with the crown and your desperate attempts for survival made you drift apart, childhood innocence now lost with the years that pass. In the end, you’re left with simple acknowledgements, small nods, and glances of recognition across hallways. Status halted your budding friendship, but it didn’t mean you felt nothing upon hearing the news.

Wei Yi nudges you. “I hear the guards are changing shifts soon. Sometimes there’s a small gap in between, enough for a maid to take a drink of water to him.” She pretends to not notice you leaving, dutifully tending to her own preparations.

His bedroom is located on the floor below his father’s, signifying his status as the Crown Prince. True to Wei Yi’s words, no guards are around when you reach, so you pull open the heavy doors with all your might and quietly enter.

The room is grand as expected, with red and gold decor all over the walls. Small dragons are etched into every corner of the room, the beautiful art on the window blinds leaving you speechless.

“Who’s there?”

You reveal yourself, stepping past the curtains around the bed. You press your lips together to hold back the gasp when you lay your eyes on him, but the sharp inhale makes him scoff. His left eye is heavily bandaged, a faint red staining the gauze right on top. Bruises and faint burns cover his upper body, but those would heal in time.

His eye on the other hand, you aren’t so sure.

“It’s you.” He sounds exhausted, drained even. There’s an emptiness to his words, a hollowness in his eyes. It’s a sharp contrast to the proud ego he’s displayed walking through the palace. Whatever happened in the Agni Kai must’ve broken something inside.

“What happened to you…” Your whisper makes him grin bitterly.

“What does a lowly maid need to know?” You flinch at his harsh words. But he softens, realising that he’s lashing out at the wrong person. “My father happened.” He admits, looking away from you. “I made a mistake.”

Whatever he’d seen back then to make him confide in you, he must’ve seen it again because he continues. “I went against him. I- I didn’t mean to insult him, but he said that I stained his honour and mine. All those years of training, of being his son and for what?” He chuckles angrily, clenched fists at his sides.

“I got banished. Now, I’m not allowed to return until I find the Avatar and I swear,” he pauses, looking up at the ceiling. “I will find him.”

You remain silent throughout, letting him speak. You’re here to just see how he’s doing, but somehow, he’s doing so much worse than you thought. There’re no words you can offer to ease his pain, and as a maid, there’s nothing you can do to help either. You don’t have any power.

“I don’t know what you did to get on his bad side,” your eyes slowly widened at his words, “But it was bad enough for you to get banished with me.”

“Wait, I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” You chuckle nervously, eyes searching his for an answer. You find none. Getting to your feet, the only thing on your mind is fear.

Crippling, paralysing fear.

That same fear grips its dark claws into your heart, digging into it with each passing second. The guards are surprised when you push past the doors and run to the Throne Room, confusion and anxiousness slowly taking hold of your body.

What did Zuko mean? How did you get on Ozai’s bad side? You’d done everything to keep it right, to gain some form of power to ensure your life would remain untouched. You barely reach the Throne Room before the guards pin you down onto the floor. You land with a pained cry, your hair splayed around you as hot tears form in your eyes.

“Stop.”

A single, commanding voice is all it takes for the guards to get off you, standing to attention as the Fire Lord himself approaches. You push yourself off the ground, but don’t dare to look up at him as you bow.

“Fire Lord Ozai, I received some very distressing news that I need to clarify with you.”

“Speak.”

This is your chance.You find it hard to swallow, but you have to push ahead. Surely this must be a mistake. You’ve been nothing but obedient. You could’ve fought back, could’ve run away from the palace after he killed your mother. Instead you bowed your head, submitted to him to ensure your life and Hanoh’s remained untouched.

“I was informed that I am to leave with Prince Zuko to hunt for the Avatar. Surely this must be a mistake-”

“What’s wrong with my order?”

At that, you raise your head in shock, a guard moving to push it back down before Ozai stops him with a single look. “So the words are true? I am to leave with Prince Zuko?”

He frowns, regarding you with nothing more than apathy. There’s no need for words for the confirmation to ring true in the silence, your heart racing as fear finally takes hold. Sweat trickles down your neck, breathing shakily.

“Why?” You cry out as he turns to walk away and resume his duties. You inhale sharply when you spot a familiar face holding the scroll Ozai had been looking at moments earlier, recognising his leery smirk as the official who had tried to assault you only yesterday. Now, he stands tall and proud next to the Fire Lord.

“Must I explain myself to you, a maid?” Ozai’s cold words turn the atmosphere into one so thin you can barely breathe. But as soon as you see the amused glint in his eyes, you realise.

He knew. He knew about everything.

He knew, and used it as an excuse to get rid of you.

“Wai-” Your arms are grabbed by the guards once Ozai’s interest is gone, uncaring to how harshly they grab you. Your head is muddled, all thoughts crashing into each other with no sense of order.

What had all your effort been for? What had all these years done?

“Princess Azula!” The official calls out in greeting, the young princess entering with her entourage.

“Father,” She greets him, spotting you in the corner. Her lips twist into a disgusted frown, “Why is she still here?”

“She was just about to leave,” The official assures her with a smile.

“Good. Trash should be taken out anyway. I suppose it gets passed down in the family.” She snickers, sauntering over to you and taking a lock of your smooth, raven-black hair in her hands in admiration. “Pretty. But you,” a single flick of her fingers has a controlled flame dancing atop her fingertips. “Don’t deserve this.”

Before you can react, she cleanly cuts off your hair, letting it fall to only your collarbones. Discarding the cut hair carelessly to the floor, a servant rushes over with a clean cloth for her to wipe her hands with. “There,” She tosses it at you with a smile, letting it hit your cheek. “Now you look exactly like your mother did.”

The guards begin to haul you away. You’re too stunned to react, limbs limp in their hold. Your voice is gone, all words dead in your throat. That final line had hit you where it hurt the most. “One last thing.” You don’t bother lifting your head up, all hope within you extinguished.

“He is no longer a prince.”

#sokka x reader #sokka #sokka x y/n #atla sokka x reader #atla sokka #atla #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #x reader

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cassieb1617 · 2 years

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Beach visits💌

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Fluff

Summary: Steve realised just how glad he is to have you.

Warnings: mentions of fights, Natasha’s and Tony’s dead; reader being pregnant; the blip; Thor being a maid of honour because I believe it’s what we deserve; let me know if there are more

Steve had been in many fight before. In fact, his eyes hole life was one. Growing up in the ‘greatest generation’ as a lanky boy with no muscles and having no talent in talking to girls was bad enough. From then losing family members after family members, trying to join the army to help, many fights in alleys that he never won was a fight in itself. After getting the serum and then going into the ice for seventy years, waking up in a whole other century woth no one he knew was hard as well. And them came Peggy, who he found out was alive and Bucky, who was a brainwashed assassin with almost no memory of him was a fight. But it was nothing compared to the fight he had with himself when he lost in 2018 and you were turned into dust. His sweet angel, someone he considered his saviour.

Steve met you after the whole taking down SHIELD fiasco. He went under a bit, losing himself in Boston, a city he never thought he would visit. He loved going on walks there, no specific place to reach, just walking. But then Steve saw you. You were sitting on a bench, book in hand - The Great Gatsby - and a dog lying next to you with its snout on your lap. You looked flawless, in his opinion. In a pretty skirt and lose shirt. Steve thought that there was no one more beautiful than you in that very moment. Like all angels above have blessed you everything good with a little heart in the corner.

The way you began to talk wasn’t in any of your minds anymore. Who made the first move, the first kiss, it didn’t matter to you because you were together. Until the blip.

It was Steve’s first search after he realised it wasn’t just the Avengers but everyone else, too. Natasha, ever the good friend, helped him. They both searched for you, the angel that made every Avenger melt on the spot. When they realised you were blipped, together they searched for Yelena Belova, Natasha just told him she was important and to keep himself occupied, and because he was Natasha’s friend, he helped her, though both searches came out empty-handed.

After the final fight - defeating Thanos, losing Natasha and Tony - you found him. It was three hours after the final battle, or was it four? You didn’t know, no one did. But you were at the Avengers compound, running up to Steve and throwing yoursef at him. Steve caught you, he always did, always will, and led you to his room. It was just you two there and for the first time in five years, Steve felt a kind of happiness. He felt whole being with you. Like everything made sense again and he knew that if Natasha was be here she’d make a stupid comment about how ‘whipped’ he was and Tony would sarcastically fake gag at the sight of you two. But you didn’t care and neither did Steve.

After Tony’s futural, bringing back the stones to their timeline and coming back completely fine amd making a respectful grave for Natasha, Steve and you decided it was time for some time away. Packing your things and saying bye to your loved ones for an unknown time, you two made your way to the beautiful coast of Italy. Relaxing in the sun, on the beach with a cute smile on both your faces while building sandcastles and making fun of each other.

Steve looked at you, a small smile playing on his face while you layed in the sun, sunglasses away and eyes closed because ‘I’m sunbathing, Steve, I don’t want a mark of my sunglasses on my face, I’ll look like an idiot’. The straps of your bright pink bikini were pullin inside so you don’t get any white stripes there, too. God, he thought, you were easily the most stunning persom he’s ever seen. All natural but still so beautiful. He began to daydream about a future, one with you and maybe one or two, or maybe even more, tiny you’s and Steve’s running around your small house. It would have a garden, as you constantly reminded him of the little flowerbeds you wanted to have. Maybe even a second dog? He found real deep comfort in that fantasy.

He said your name and you opened your pretty eyes, looking up at him with a smile on your face, “What’s up Steve? Are you okay?” Leave it to you to always worry about him. “Yeag, it’s just- I’m happy, you know?” You smiled, still a bit confused. “I just- I love you. So much. Wanted you to know that.” You chuckled, there was always a slight Brooklyn drawl to his words when he was nervous so you didn’t know what to expect. “I love you, Steve.” Steve smiled and began to chuckle lightly,” “That’s- That’s great you know, becaue, uhm, I wanted to ask you something.”, he began, “What- what if you move in? With me, I mean. We could get a new house or maybe a flat. It doesn’t have to be directly, but you know, one time, maybe?” The smile on your face was bright, like he had just hung the moon and the stars for you. “Yeah, I’d like that, Steve.” Steve smiled brightly, “Great. Great, great great.” You giggled at him and kissed him, a kiss he gladly reciprocate.

It was a few months later now. After coming back from Italy with Sam throwing a dumb jab at you about ‘stealing his look’ you told them about the news, only receiving good response. The house you now had was in Boston, you grew up there and had family and Steve wanted to be away from all the superhero stuff. The house had three floors; the lowest with the kitchen, living room, a room for laundry and a little bathroom; the second floor with three bedrooms and a guest-bedroom, the one mostly occupied by Bucky or Sam and two other bathrooms, a bit bigger than the one on the first floor; and the final floor with a master bedroom, occupied by Steve and yourself and a master bathroom, including shower and bathtub, perfect to relax in. It was safe to say that you and Steve loved the house. You bought the house as soon as you two saw it and the money fit as well. It was perfect.

Now back on the same beach as months before you both sat there, anticipating to tell the other one the news. While Steve chose the place again, this time with a focus on asking you the question he wanted to ask you the first time you were there, you were there to tell him the news you hoped he liked.

“Steve?” You asked him and he looked at you, a slight deja vu, “I got something to tell you.” You knew his reaction wouldn’t be bad, you talked about it before and both agreed that you want it, you just didn’t talk about when. “I’m- I’m pregnant.” You bit your lip to wait for his reaction while he looked at you, a bit fonfused but then started to laugh, “You know, I already had the idea.”, he began, “You didn’t drink that wine you liked ao much.” You chuckled as well and in that moment everything felt right.

“You know, my plan with this trip was to have the biggest surprise but as always you have to top me,” he chuckled while rummaging in one of his bags he brought with him and took out a tiny box and opened it, “I may not be on my knees right now, but this should still count. You’re the most phenomenal person I’ve ever met. And I wanted to ask you this last time but I guess it was too early? You know, I- I had this big speech written down and I completely forgot everything on it so please don’t be mad at me,” both of you were crying with big smiles on you faces by now and he said your name, “marry me, I promise I’ll try the best to make you the happiest person on this planet and every other one. And I promise that, yes , you can have Thor as your maid of honour if you want to.” You chuckled before screaming out a big yes. The people around you all laughing and clapping. You hugged Steve while he slid the ring on your finger.

Now, six months later on the same beach surrounded with your best friends, you and Steve gave you the ‘I do’s’. Thor, your maid of honour as promised, a seat free on your bridesmaid place for Natasha and Wanda as your second bridesmaid, you were the happiest you could be with a big belly. Steve’s side looked smiliar, Bucky as hid best man, a seat free for Tony and Sam as his other groomsman, Steve couldn’t get the smile off his face. Even Nick Fury, who was the ‘priest’ to marry you, was smiling a bit.

#steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #chris evans #chris evans x reader

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lrvsroq · 8 months

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my top 10 favourite olivia rodrigo GUTS lyrics as of current

— not in any particular order

1. “but i am my fathers daughter so maybe i can fix him”

- this didn’t make any sense to me until i learnt that her dad is a psychologist and now i’m obsessed with this lyric

2. “i am built like a mother and a total machine”

- it is. so powerful.

3. “i got the things i wanted it’s just not what i imagined”

- heartbreaking & so effing real

4. “your flowers filled with vitriol”

- honestly every lyric from this song is amazing . i love how it rhymes with betrayal & it’s so creative idk

5. “i know i’m half responsible and that makes me feel horrible”

- 😭😭😭😭

6. “try to rationalise people are people but, it’s like your made of angel dust”

- emphasis on angel dust i love it

7. “and i make light of the darkness i got sun in my mf pockets best believe”

- YEAH YOU DO !! cue the beat drop rn

8. “they all say that it gets better, it gets better, but what if i don’t?”

- I LOVE HOW ITS A MANTRA. this song hurts at how relatable it is

9. “skin like puff pastry”

- the way she says it is so satisfying idk how to explain it. doughy?

10. “searching how to start a conversation on a website?”

— girlhood

HONOURABLE MENTIONS:

“what a mesmerising, paralysing, fucked up little thrill”

“every guy i like is gay”

“i’m planning out my wedding with some guy i’m never marrying”

“took everything i loved and crushed it in between your fingers”

“and i play the victim so well in my head.”

#THERE ARE SO MANY MORE UGHHH #no skip album #olivia rodrigo #music #GUTS #olivia rodrigo GUTS #lyrics

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tomoon-or-not-tomoon · 2 years

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Favourite K-Pop Releases of October 2022

1. Mamamoo: ILLELLA

Title: The queens are back! And they brought us a bop! This song is just so incredibly catchy, the hook was stuck in my head just from the teasers. Usually repetitiveness is the worst feature a song could have to me, but here the melody just so catchy it still works for me, and there's more than enough going on to keep me from getting bored. The vocals and rap are perfect as always, and of course Mamamoo sells the hell out of this song during performances.

Album: Now, do I think that calling three songs a "minialbum" is ridiculous? Absolutely. However, I do see why they kept to these three songs, they just work so well with each other. I'm actually having a hard time to choose my favourite, it's always the one I heard last. Still, more songs of this type in an album would have been too much, but adding other songs with different sounds could have made for a really weird listening experience. They should have called it a single album, though.

2. Kingdom: Long Live The King

Title: I've always been interested in Kingdom because of their concept, but this release is what fully pushed me into becoming a fan. This song is just so exciting! I love the electro-retro vibe at the beginning of the song (would have loved for that to feature more) as well as the dramatic-orchestral chorus. The up-beat section in the final chorus is my favourite part, it's so fun! The MV aesthetic and styling is amazing, I love how hard they committed to it.

Album: I don't really have a lot to say about the album, though I did save all the songs. The standout track to me is Poison.

3. (G)I-DLE: Nxde

Title: I'll admit it, when I first heard this I wasn't sure whether or not I liked this song, but it definitely grew on me a lot. I love the cabaret vibes and the sample in the chorus is incorporated so well. I really like Yuqi's deep voice here. And then there's the MV and concept, which is just amazing. I love the message, and in general I'm always happy to see groups with feminist concepts that go beyond looking badass.

Album: All the songs fit together nicely, the ones that stood out to me are Sculpture and Dark (X-File).

Honourable Mentions

Other songs I enjoyed this month, in no particular order:

Onewe: Still Here

Seulgi: Los Angeles

DKZ: Uh-Heung

Rolling Quartz: Sing your Heart out

Stray Kids: Case 143, Give me your TMI, Can't Sleep

Dreamcatcher: Vision, Fairytale, Some Love

Kihyun: Youth, Bad Liar, Star Dust

What were your favourite releases?

#kpop #k pop #kpop review #mamamoo #kingdom #gidle #onewe #seulgi #dkz #rolling quartz #stray kids #dreamcatcher #kihyun #mine

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wilde-is-the-wind · 2 years

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A little tale of an angel and a demon. Not Good Omens (although there might be some influences), I love the concept of opposing forces meeting and making up and wanted to make my own, so I chose Raphael and Asmodeus.

I’m a bit obsessed about the secularization of christian mythology, and some years ago I designed a board game about Armageddon, where you play with demonic forces and the heavenly host, so got kind of into that.

words: 1 608

After Armageddon

The sky was glowing faintly with red. There were clouds quietly assembling, giving the dim glow a dark edge. There was going to be rain later. The earth was covered in ash and flakes of burnt material hovered in the air, no breeze to be mentioned. Yet the clouds continued to gather in the higher layers of ozone.

A figure slowly ascended from inside the hollow ground. He had dark features and black clothing, that hung from his misshapen shoulders. He took a step, then another. His bare feet didn’t leave a footprint on the ash-covered ground, but the gentle movement of the dark, grubby wings that grew from his back caused the air around them to swirl, and the dust and the burned flakes followed the movement obediently. The figure slowly made his way to a hill, that broke the stable rhythm of otherwise even landscape. He stopped, as he finally reached the highest point and turned his face to the sky above.

The red glow had been breached by a golden ray of light that continued to intensify as another figure slowly materialized from thin air. Where the first figure was dark, this one shined with holy light that enveloped him quite same way his light curls hugged his beautiful face. Languidly, he descended to the ground,

“Asmodeus”, said the angel.

“Raphael”, said the demon.

The two immortal beings observed each other, maybe waiting for a sudden attack that never came.

“It has been quite a while. I haven’t seen you since Israel, as I recollect. I might have been a bit too harsh with you back then, I must give you my apologies”, Raphael announced and tilted his head in consideration.

Asmodeus shrugged and gave a wicked smile. “Haven’t been able to be near fish since then, I tell you. But yeah, I was just having fun with that gal, Sarah. To be denied a wedding night seven times in a row...the girl was absolutely begging for some action. Maybe the poor fellas didn’t really deserve such a cruel faith. But you know, me, a demon. I must fill my infernal boots in a way or another.” There was a contemplative pause. “Although it doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess. Things down there in Hell are quite a bit of a mess right now.”

“I see what you mean”, said the angel. “Things have changed, the war is over, and the earth left empty. It is quite a shame. It really was beautiful down here once. Although in the end they kind of managed to screw things up thoroughly well.”

Both turned to watch over the barren view. The field of Mediggo, as it was, was never really a place to behold but now even the grass and the few stubborn plants that once had covered the area were burnt to ashes. There were wide cracks in the ground and thick smoke ascending from them. The smell of sulphur filled the air. The two figures were alone, there was no one else to be seen.

“Have you been to other places? Is it truly like this everywhere?” asked Asmodeus warily, as if he didn’t really want to know the answer.

“Yes and yes”, answered Raphael”, “There really is nothing left, no souls to tend to.” As the angel spoke, sadness took over his beautiful features. “But this is His will and a new earth shall be built in His honour.”

“A new earth?”, the demon inquired curiously. “And what that one shall be like? A golden city filled with dance, laughter and sing-song for all eternity? Flower-picking and candy eating all day and furious orgies during the night? That last thing I could endure”, he noted. “What about all the humans? Are there any left?”

“They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book of life”, quoted the angel.

“Well fuck me, that sounds absolutely dreadful”, Asmodeus uttered and made a disgusted face. “No place for a lousy demon like me, it seems. I guess I just have to come up with something else.” He gave Raphael a curious look. “What about you then, mighty archangel Raphael? What shall be your holier-than-thou role in this new loony order?”

Raphael did not answer immediately. He glanced up to the skies, deep in thought. The demon saw his anguish.

“It really was quite a sight, you know. With those trumpets and bowls filled with godly wrath..it all really came together quite theatrically.”, Asmodeus told the stone-faced angel with almost complementary tone in his rusty voice. “You guys really got our people running. The big boss was not happy, not happy at all about how it all turned out in the end. Got a little nasty. Well, the burning sulphur is not exactly a beach holiday, but we are kind of used to it where I come from. Guess we just forgot it for a while.”

The demon shrugged again and joined his quiet companion in silence. It was getting darker, the red glow was almost overcompensated by the blackening clouds. The two figures made no movement, almost like waiting the universe to make its next move. Finally, Raphael opened his mouth and spoke.

“I’m really not sure if I fit into the new order”, he said warily, surprising the demon.

“What do you mean? You are an angel, the mighty Lord’s little pet, a bringer of The Good Word and all that shit. How come you would not fit into the new perfect world of the sky pope and his lamb brisket?”, said Asmodeus and made a repeating sound, that barely could be described as laughter.

Rafael ignored the demon’s casually uttered blasphemy but answered.

“My purpose as an archangel was always to be the messenger and to carry out God’s important plans for mankind. But now, God himself shall join His creations and there won’t be need for a messenger anymore.”

He didn’t seem very reluctant to admit this, Asmodeus noted. As if the archangel had already accepted his lack of purpose. Or maybe he had already found a new one, the demon wondered.

“What about Michael, Gabriel and the rest of the holy postmen? Are they as deep in an existential crisis as you are or are you the only Roquentin moping around right now?”, he inquired.

“The others have joined the higher choirs and are gathered around the heavenly throne.”, the angel stated, “I’m sure there shall be a new place made for them in the new world, whatever that may be. ”

This didn’t seem to make sense to the demon. Why wouldn’t the angel take his place beside the other holy choirs as well? There was something about Raphael, he thought. The holy light emerging from him was as radiant as always, but there was a different kind of hue to it that seemed to grow by the second Asmodeus observed the angel. It made the demon’s eyes water, but he didn’t seem to be able to avert his eyes.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked.

The angel sighed and finally turned to face the demon beside him.

“I guess I could ask you the same thing, demon Asmodeus. The world as we know it has ended and yet here we are, two immortal beings, standing on its ashes on the field of Mediggo, where it all started. There is no going back, the only option is to move forward.”

Asmodeus contemplated these words as he formed his response.

“Well as I said, it is a mess down there in the pits and there are no more souls to be corrupted. I wanted to see if there was anything to be scavenged.”

“There is nothing.”

“I can see that now.”

There was a sudden crack of thunder in the distance. The two immortals did not seem to notice as they studied each other, pondering the next move. Finally, Asmodeus opened his mouth, considering his words carefully.

“It’s a big universe out there, you know. The humans only got a tiny glimpse of it, even with all that technology. And as you haven’t smitten me yet, I could only assume you are not planning to do that in the near future”, he said, trying to sound as casual as a vicious demon only could. “Could use some angelic help, navigating around the infinity.”

Raphael raised a curious eyebrow, but kept his silence.

“Wouldn’t it be gracious, to see what else there is outside occult and ethereal?” the demon continued his inquiry “Those terms don’t seem to matter that much anymore.”

“The rules have indeed changed, for better or worse”, the archangel agreed as he considered the words of his demonic counterpart. There were surely places where even the all-reaching hand of the Lord rarely made a visit.

“It is decided then?” Asmodeus asked. There was determination in Raphael’s eyes as he slowly nodded his agreement. The demon’s mouth spread into a wide grin, the kind that was taught by the devil himself in the deepest pits of Hell. “I won’t promise to be good”, he added.

“And I won’t promise to not be”, answered the angel.

The two figures spread their wings and took flight. At last, there were no more beings left on the quiet earth. And finally, the clouds erupted, as if it had been planned ahead, and let the heavy rain fall on the desolate ground.

The Great Plan of The Almighty God occurred. And the infinite universe kept on expanding.

#angels and demons #angel choirs #raphael #asmodeus #armageddon #apocalypse #story #book of tobit #book of revelation #christianity #mediggo #long post

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lillywillow · 3 years

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Wedding Bells

Summary: It’s finally the day of Steve and Peggy’s wedding. You and Bucky do your duties as their best friends to see them off on their honeymoon.

Word Count: 1246

Square Filled: Best Man/ Maid of Honour

Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader/ Steve x Peggy

Warnings: None really

Author’s Note: Kind of a normal AU, in this one I’m making Peggy’s niece Sharon a young child

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

You had been friends with Peggy for as long as you can remember. When she first started dating Steve, you were absolutely thrilled. The pair of them balanced each other out perfectly. In that time, you got to know Steve’s best friend Bucky too. Steve and Peggy tried many times to get the pair of you together but so far all attempts had been futile. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested; it was just either one of you was too busy (or at least, you claimed to be). When Steve finally proposed to Peggy, you got a lot closer to Bucky in all the planning for the wedding.

...

The day finally arrived for Peggy and Steve’s nuptials. Everything was perfectly set up. First came Peggy’s little niece Sharon as the flower girl along with the ring bearer. Next came Peggy’s sister and bridesmaid with groomsman Sam. You stood waiting your turn to walk down the aisle with Bucky as best man and maid of honour just as you rehearsed. He was so handsome dressed in his suit, you couldn’t help but glance over at him as you took your places near the end of the alter. Steve stood there grinning, his eyes glistening with tears as Peggy was walked down the aisle by her father, looking like an angel, in his opinion. Everything was going smoothly so far until the “I do’s”.

“Steven Grant Rogers, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest asked.

“I do.”

“Margaret Elizabeth Carter, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I-”

Before Peggy could answer, the church doors were suddenly burst open.

“PEGGY!”

Peggy’s ex-boyfriend ran through the doors. You never liked the creep and when they broke up, he became a little clingy. Even while dating, he was possessive and unhealthily obsessed with her.

“You! What are you doing here?!”

“I came to tell you that I’m still in love with you! You can’t marry Steve, you just can’t!”

“You had your chance. It’s over between us,” Peggy stated firmly.

“Please, run away with me!”

Bucky moved to escort the guy out but you had already beaten him to it. You grabbed him by one arm and the back the collar and dragged him out. He whined and protested the whole time as you pushed him out the door, making him land on his rear.

“But-”

“Listen you! I never liked you but since Peggy was dating you, I tolerated you. You blew your chance with her and if you hurt her, if you ever come near her again, I will hunt you down and I will end you, got it?!”

This was the second time he had been on the receiving end of your protective friend side. With a feeble nod, he scrambled to his feet and ran off. You dusted off your hands and returned to your spot inside and the ceremony was able to conclude.

...

After the wedding, everyone went to the reception which fortunately went without incident compared to the ceremony. The bridal party sat at the table at the front, you and Peggy’s sister at her right, Sam and Bucky to Steve’s left.

“Thank you for dealing with him, Y/N,” Peggy sighed.

“Peg, I’m your maid of honour. It’s my job to put out fires as they appear so you and Steve can enjoy your day,” you smiled.

“Please don’t mention fire,” Steve groaned, making Sam and Bucky snicker. You and Peggy looked at them with confusion.

“While waiting, Steve was so nervous that he bumped into a candle holder and nearly knocked it to the ground. Nearly set the place on fire,” Bucky laughed.

“Bucky!” Steve whined.

“What? I handled it, didn’t I? No dramas...”

“Except for that one at the ceremony,” Sam supplied.

“I took into account for almost every scenario... how was I supposed to know that crackpot would show up?” you huffed. Peggy rubbed your back and grinned.

“You did an amazing job. Both you and Bucky,” she smiled, looking over at him. Bucky’s gaze had been on you and having been caught out, he blushed and looked away.

A short while later, it was time for the couple’s first dance as husband and wife. Out there on the floor, holding onto each other, it was obvious how deeply in love with each other they were. Soon, other couples were joining them.

“May I have this dance?” Bucky asked, offering his hand.

“You may,” you smiled, taking his hand and going to the floor.

Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck, both of you slowly swaying to the music.

“So... when do you want to start telling people about us?” Bucky quietly asked.

You and Bucky had began dating a few weeks ago but with all the stress of the wedding, you decided to keep things on the down-low.

“Let’s wait until they go on their honeymoon. We don’t want to steal their thunder,” you replied, looking over at the couple.

“You know they’ll be thrilled for us... they’ve been trying to get this to happen for years now...”

“I know... but it’s their day. I want them to enjoy it.”

“What if we tell them just before they leave?”

“Yeah... that could work,” you smiled.

...

At the end of the night, the final events were the bouquet toss and the garter toss. You were ushered into a group with all the single ladies, almost all of whom wanted that bouquet. When Peggy let the item fly behind her, it was pretty much a blood-sport. Women were tackling each other, elbows were thrown... it wasn’t a pretty sight which was made all the more funny when you caught the flowers by accident. There were a few cheers and a few curses but it still counted.

Next were the single men who weren’t nearly as gung-ho about it. Sure they made an effort but much like you, Bucky caught it by sheer dumb luck. He only put his arm up and the garter landed on it like a ring toss. There was a bit of teasing about it, people saying how you two were next to be married, but neither of you minded.

After that, the bride and groom said their goodbyes and headed off to start their new life together. As the limo drove away, Bucky came up beside you and put his arm around your waist.

“Well, mission accomplished. We got them down the aisle and on their honeymoon.”

“We sure did... oh, shoot. We didn’t get a chance to tell them about us...”

“Doesn’t matter. We can tell them when they get back. Now that they’re gone, I can do what I’ve been jonesing to do all night,” he smirked, pulling you closer and kissing you deeply. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

Maybe one day, Steve and Peggy could return the favour of being best man and matron of honour for the pair of your at your own wedding.

#ssb2021 #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Peggy #Steggy #Wedding Bells #Wedding day #Best Man/ Maid of Honour #Bride and Groom #Bouquet Toss #Wedding crasher #Kiss #Secretly dating #Modern AU #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot

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animeangsteng · 2 years

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Children’s promises

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Children’s promises

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎… ⋙

Warnings: innuendo (wedding night - not explicit), marriage, forbidden love (demon-angel), bully (not depicted - demon on angel), canon violence (non-graphic)

female demon reader (she/her - Y/n (Nicknamed “Pixie” like... 2 times))

Pairings: x fem reader (romantic)

Aged up! Luke

Mention of Solomon and exchange student

Childhood sweethearts trope

█ █ █ █ █ 100% *Tuning complete*

«-Once I’m older I’ll marry you!- she smiled.

-Huh? No!- he protested, surprising the little girl with his sudden opposition: -I’ll marry you!-.

-Eh? Isn’t it the same thing?-

-Well... if it is then let ME marry you!-

-Okay! Don’t forget about our promise, though-»

-Sir!- called a man.

-The Archangel Michael called for you- he continued.

Smiling Luke turned to him and dismissed him with a nod: -Thanks! I’ll go now!-.

Freeing his mind from the memory of the demon girl he met during the student exchange in Devildom he greeted Michael, the same admiration he had for him as a child sparkling behind his eyes.

-Luke... I’d like you to go back to Devildom as guide for the angels who’ll take part of the second student exchange- the Archangel said.

Hearing those words Luke was a bit confused: he was overjoyed with such an honour but, at the same time he wanted to avoid Devildom and demons as much as possible.

“Still, I’ll be able to see her again!” He thought, though he chased that thought as soon as he could.

At the time he had forgotten, in his childish innocence, about that girl’s nature but now that he knew that he risked to fall for such feelings he was very careful not to show his partiality.

He loved her, despite not having seen her for centuries, and he often wished to fulfill his promise.

He knew, though, that he could never act on his love and so decided to simply go and meet her, see what had changed.

« -I’m Y/n. They call me Pixie because I’m small but believe me, I can get things done no matter how big the problem is!- she smiled welcoming.

-I’m Luke- he answered, pink dusting his cheeks.

Barbatos appeared behind them and tapped her shoulder: -It’s time to leave, Young Miss-.

Nodding she left, grinning even more: -Okay! See you around Luke!-.»

-You’re going to see Pixie again, aren’t you glad?- asked him Simeon.

He looked at him, red in face, and ignored the question: -They’re Micheal’s orders. Of course I’m glad-.

“Of course” giggled Simeon “Luke would never admit it, especially if there’s the risk he could get caught. I wonder, though...”

-I’ll go!- waved him goodbye Luke, leaving his house to go at the portal that would bring him back to Devildom.

-Here goes nothing- he encouraged himself before going.

“I’m just going to meet the forbidden love of my life after centuries”

«-Remember, Luke: she has friendly ties with the Demon Brothers, the Demon Prince and many other demons so you can be their friend but nothing more, alright?- reprimanded him Simeon, trying to avoid desperately his pupil’s fall.

Yet the warning came too late for the seeds of love were already in the hearts of both kids»

Nothing.

For weeks he heard nothing from her, nor did he see her.

He wasn’t sure whether he was mad, sad or relieved.

Looking back at the way between Purgatory Hall and the House of Lamentation he felt a bit nostalgic, he admitted that.

It felt like the day before he had to go visit her.

«-We’re late!- shouted Luke, pulling Simeon.

-Don’t worry I’m sure she’ll wait- smiled the latter -I’m glad you got over your grudge with demons-.

Hearing that Luke stopped on his tracks: -It’s just that she’d never participated in the war. It’s not fair! She should be able to be an angel like us!-.

Saying that he sniffed, tears threatening to come out.

-I kinda like being here in Devildom, though- said the one they were talking about from behind the blond kid.

-But... it’s Devildom and there’s all these demons!- tried to reason with her Luke.

-Yeah but at least I can do what I want. Like visit the Human World freely, at least much more than you! You have no idea how many great people I met!- she continued.

-But... we could have met before- he whined a bit tearfully Luke.

-Yeah. We could have- she agreed, hugging her friend.

-Let’s go now, though!- she giggled, pulling Luke away from Simeon and bringing him along the way to the House of Lamentation.

-Otherwise Beel will eat all the raw ingredients for our desserts!-»

While he was going home, although he never thought he’d call somewhere but the Celestial Realm home, he felt someone throw themselves on his back and fall on him.

As he turned he saw a very familiar demon standing on top of him, a big smile on her face.

«-Look! The angel chihuahua is on his own!- teased him some lesser demons.

-I’m not a chihuahua!- he replied, huffing.

-Then we’ll beat you up with no regrets!- said them, nearing him dangerously.

-S-Stay there!- he warned them.

-Scared? Where’s your bravery?- some mocked him.

-Let him go!- said another’s voice, a little girl’s.

Behind the demons a little girl in her demon form threw them a stone, hitting one in their forehead and getting in front on the angel, trying to shield them.

-I’ll protect you, don’t worry!- she smiled at him.

And Luke could have sworn he was back in the Celestial Realm because her smile looked like an angel’s.»

Once back from Memory Lane, suddenly noticing their compromising position and closeness, he reddened: -Get off me!-.

Giggling she did as he asked and smiled, brightening his world once again.

-It’s been a long time, hasn’t it Luke?-

-Yes, it has- he said, smiling involuntarily and getting the dust off his clothes.

-Where have you been? Didn’t notice you being at RAD- he asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.

-I was in the Human Realm. I met Solomon again- she replied.

An awkward silence filled the air.

-I’ll be going then- she said cheerfully, a bit awkwardly -See you around!-

-Yeah. Bye- he answered, looking forward to meeting her again.

Did the centuries spent apart change the feelings they had for each other?

Not at all.

Day after day they fell for each other more and more and the more it happened the worst it hurt.

Until one day, they weren’t sure why, they kissed.

They shared a tiny innocent kiss before leaving in a hurry, murmuring excuses.

It was obvious to the both of them that they didn’t regret it at all but they were supposed to be enemies, or at least rivals, so how could they do it?

They talked and talked about it until one day they came to an agreement.

They’d keep their relationship a secret until they found a way to openly be together.

And so they did.

-I love you- he said.

-I love you too, silly- she laughed a bit.

Cuddling and leaning a bit more in Luke’s embrace she sighed.

-We still haven’t found a way yet and the year is almost over- she sighed, worried.

-I was thinking... what if we asked Simeon? Simeon came here and I’m sure he’d give us a hand and stay silent about it- he smiled shyly.

-I’m in but... can we really trust him?- she asked.

-Yeah. And if something goes wrong I’ll take care of it.- replied Luke.

-Yeah. We’ll get through this-

And that’s how they sneaked into Purgatory Hall together.

She was prepared for any scenario.

Any scenario but this.

The Hall beautifully decorated, the Demon Brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon waiting for them.

And Luke on one knee asking her to marry him.

-Will you marry me?- he asked, eyes full of hope and face as red as it could be.

-You’d really like to marry me?- she asked for confirmation.

-Yeah, well... I love you and I promised, didn’t I?- he chuckled.

-Then YES!!!- she accepted happily, making him cry in joy.

As the vows were taken he whispered in her ear, tears of happiness still rolling off his cheeks: -Good thing you accepted. It would have been embarrassing to get rejected like this-.

-Did you plan to guilt trip me otherwise?-

-N-no!- he denied.

-Yeah. A bit- he then surrendered looking at her smirk.

-It’s just... I love you. Despite all that told me to not fall for you I couldn’t help it. I love you with all my heart. You might be a demon but in my eyes you’re an angel, or even more: a goddess-

-Careful! You might fall- she jokingly smiled.

-Yeah, well. It would be a pity but I suppose it wouldn’t be that bad if I get to stay with you forever-

-You know... I can’t wait for tonight.-

-T-tonight? W-why?- he stuttered, knowing well what she meant.

With a mischievous smile she giggled, a bit seductively and a bit jokingly: -To get to the fun part-.

Made by @ME

The base I used (because I can only trace and color) is from a screenshot of Chitoge Kirisaki & Raku Ichijou (Nisekoi by Naoshi Komi).

I needed to make it because I wasn’t sure whether the description of their position was understandable.

I made a shadow to let anyone identify with it (in particular big black shadows)

#Luke #luke x reader #obey me #luke obey me #aged up #obey me x reader #fanfic #animeangsteng

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desert-bluffs-and-me · 2 years

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WTNV Quick Rundown - 10 - Feral Dogs

This is a series of bulletpoint lists detailing the lore, facts, interesting quotes and whatever else I think is worth putting down from the podcast episodes and live shows. I do still recommend listening to the show when/if you can though, this is just for scanning for facts you half-remember or quickly catching up if you're new.

Catch up here or just look in the tags on my blog!

Regret nothing, until it is too late. Then regret everything. Welcome to Night Vale.

The episode mostly revolves around a pack of feral dogs terrorising NV. They are mutts, possibly pit-bull mixes and their leader has three heads and is wearing dozens of decorative medals and chevrons. They attack a group of elementary school students (who defend themselves with school issued nerve gas cannisters and automatic pistols). They were also spotted dumpster diving (which included carrying away two homeless people who were also dumpster diving) and are Libertarian street artists*. They attacked two boys in a playground (one was taken to hospital with leg injuries and the other was unharmed 'because he was a better boy and more favoured by the angels') and broke into the Senior Centre to steal their TV's and make the wifi stop working.

*said art apparently done by the dog pack is on the Drawbridge construction site, featuring an elaborately painted portrait of Alexander Hamilton wearing Groucho Marx nose-glasses and a caption that reads "Federalist Papers" but where “Federalist” is crossed out and "Toilet" has been written in red. There are also slogans such as "Gold Standard Is OUR Standard" and "Read Your Constitution."

Cecil is impressed by the detail of the art done entirely in spray paint and urges people to NOT speak up if they know how to catch those dogs, and to be weary that their phones and computers are tapped.

The problem is solved by Mayor Pamela Winchell claiming they were 'just plastic bags' until she is believed or at least until people stop bothering her with questions about the obvious lie. The 'plastic bags' have been returned to the dog park from whence they came.

Cecil recommends getting your pets fixed (which can even be done at Big Rico's since Big Rico has an interest in taxidermy).

Weather: "I Know This:" by Rachel Kann. rachelkann.com

The Parks Department is spraying pesticide in all public park areas and in neighbourhoods with dense foliage and predominantly Irish heritage. This is because they want to reduce the mosquito population which is apparently causing outbreaks of West Nile, Influenza, Panache, Elephantitis and Fanny Brice Approximation Syndrome. It has a half-life of 2100 years and direct contact with skin is known to cause epilepsy, super-epilepsy, skin abrasions and organ invasion.

Wayne Taylor is the assistant shift manager at NV's Pinkberry.

The penalty for overdue books at the library has 'skyrocketed' to 50 cents per day and after 30 days, jaw mutilation.

(DO NOT READ THIS ONE IF YOU HAVE ARACHNOPHOBIA OR JUST DON'T LIKE SPIDERS) The Night Vale Medical Board has issued a new study indicating that you have a spider somewhere on your body at all times but especially now. The study said that further research would be needed to determine exactly where on your body this spider is and what its intentions are, only that it is definitely there and is statistically likely to be one of the really ugly ones.

Community Health Tips silently judges you if you are sexually aroused by carpal tunnel syndrome.

NV has a bi-weekly Fire Person Appreciation Parade where the fire engines are turned into floats depicting some of NV's historical fires. Cecil's fave is the 1983 Earthquake Dust Fire when tremor-initiated fires became so intense that the airborne sand burst into deadly flames. The Fire Department apparently does a really good job capturing the horror in papier mache and streamers.

Dark Owl Records is mentioned for the first time.

On Tuesday, the Boy Scout Court of Honour is happening. Franklin Wilson and Barton Donovan have earned The Invisibility Badge which is the prerequisite for becoming a Blood Pact Scout (the rank above Eagle Scout, which is very difficult to obtain, these two being the first ever to do so).

The Rec Centre is holding a Citywide Fitness Fair (last years was cancelled because it was at the same time as the Fried Chicken and Cigarettes Fair). They have a large corporate sponsorship from The Intelligence Group International which will provide free prostate screenings, mammograms and surgically-embedded government monitoring devices.

The National Weather Service and National Security Agency have scheduled a giant sandstorm. - NV weather is manufactured, go figure lol

Emily Munton, the NV Zoo Director, should probably not be running a zoo because she thinks animals prefer tiny cages and regularly scheduled food pellet consumption. 'She added a high-pitched roar, followed by a watery gurgling sound, and then our conversation was ended by repeated cloudless thunderclaps.'

NV has a Museum of Forbidden Technologies. Some of it's displays include a cheap, pollution free source of energy created by Nikola Tesla, multiple time machines (some of them not even yet invented!), pocket calculators (which were outlawed by the City Council 22 years ago for undisclosed reasons) and a temporary exhibit displaying many different, exciting and extremely dangerous uses for lasers. The exhibits are entirely shrouded with thick burlap at all times, and all explanatory plaques have been blacked out with permanent marker. The Museum of Forbidden Technologies: If you don’t know about it, we may or may not have it.

The next show after Cecil's is 'Dr.Brandon' who is going to give a step by step guide on how to remove your own appendix.

Get your sleep, Night Vale. And don’t forget to dream. Good Night.

Proverb: Eating meat is a difficult moral decision, because it's stolen, that meat. You should apologize.

#wtnv #wtnv quick rundown #spiders #welcome to night vale #wtnv ep 10

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amarienne · 4 years

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Long and tired 15x20 rumblings. Beware of spoilers and the F word.

It’s been 10 hours since I watched the episode and I still can’t believe that was real and not a prank episode.

Let’s leave aside the destiel of it all, alright? We all knew getting a huge and proper destiel scene was not gonna happen, no matter how much we clowned the last few days.

But that was a shit show of writing and plot. Fair enough, they felt like a MOTW episode was very fitting to be the last and you know what, I agree. That first 10 minutes of a simple life jogging, making breakfast and petting the dog? I am all for it. Pie Fair? Perfect, who doesn’t like pie? And Dean surely deserved to eat to his heart’s content with no worry in the world.

But at the same time you are trying to tell me that Dean didn’t even blink while Sam mentioned Cas being dead? And that we didn’t even see Sam at least texting with Eileen who just one episode ago vanished in thin air and Sam, had to perform some pretty heavy self control and restraint so he didn’t break because of the loss? How am I, the audience, supposed to believe that??

Still, I was happily going along with it all still keeping hope (lol, what a fool) until they entered the barn. I saw that freaking rod while they were fighting. Don’t believe it if you don’t want to, but I saw the freaking metal rod and I saw Dean being attacked and I was like fuck no he’s gonna end up on it. And surely enough a second later he was. And being the naive person I am I thought ‘huh, interesting. maybe that’s how we see Jack in this episode, or we see Dean in the hospital fighting for his life because he realises he doesn’t want to keep doing this.’

Buuut nooo, ofc not. We get 10 minutes of Dean hanging from a nail making an otherwise lovely speech and Sam standing there listening to it. We get a *w*nc*est* aura with the hand holding and forehead touching? REALLY? I couldn’t fucking believe it. And then Dean dies.

Dean, who just last episode did not take vengeance on Chuck because ‘that’s not who I am’. A fact I am betting my life on comes of course, of course, from Castiel’s confession. So we finally get to see Dean accepting the fact he is not just a killer, but actually he is made of love and for love and he deserves to be happy. Guys, you can see it in his face, he starts to believe it. And he chooses to walk away with his brother and Jack and to simply leave Chuck behind to have the thing he is more scared of- the thing Dean craved more than anything: a normal life.

Enter a sad excuse of a funeral, a pathetic montage of Sam in the bunker and then a call for another hunt. And Sam leaving (forever? who the fuck knows) the bunker. And just as I feared we get to Heaven. And Dean is welcomed by Bobby. That scene was actually fine. At least we get to fucking know Cas is no longer in the Empty- that presumably Jack saved him and they are now together or were together to build Heaven. And the fact they all share a heaven is sweet, okay? Baby is there, Dean goes for a drive, Kansas is playing. Cheesy but lovely.

Montage of Sam living a normal life? A toddler with ‘Dean’ stitched on his clothes? Enter me losing my fucking mind on the turn of events. So Sam named the kid he had with a *faceless* woman Dean in honour of the brother that died like 3 days after saving the world. Huh?? Really? I mean really? What the fuck happenned to Eileen?? She was too precious for this episode and this fucking story.

At this point I am like, I wish I had not pressed play on this mess. But the God awful montage continues. We see Dean Jr (*retching from disgust on the cliche*) telling Sam it’s okay, mirroring the first death. Also what’s with the tatoo? Is he a hunter too? Did Sam continue hunting and pulled his son into it as well? Or was it just a general precaution/tradition. Fuck knows of course. Heart monitor goes beep (the fucking cliches will be the death of me) and we see a bunch of pictures. The faceless wife remains faceless because *who cares* let’s just show the parallells between the two brothers’ deaths.

Oh I forgot all this is to the sound of a pop cover of Carry on my Wayward Son. They didn’t even have the decency to keep the original playing.

And here I am thinking, wishing, being ready to make a crossroads deal that all this is not actually real. It’s a dream, or a nightmare, or an alternate reality or - my biggest hope- Gabriel’s playing a prank somehow.

But as we all now know, dear strangers, that was not it. Nope. Dean stops in a lovely bridge (after apparently a couple hours of driving) and Sam appears. They hug it out. And they watch the sun set over the fucking mountain top.

Oh and then we have the god awful goodbye message. The final blow so we stay on the ground.

Un-fucking-believable. That was like the worst fanfiction, wrapped in a last minute essay you’re writing that is due in six hours, dipped in a diary entry from when you were 9 and dusted with a touch of *who gives a fuck let’s just finish this*. Also let’s blame *COVID*.

All the beautiful scenes and moments of the past 15 seasons. All the character progression we thought we were witnessing. All the symbolism we thought we were seeing. All the secondary characters we got to love to just not see if they actually made it back after 15x18. All the blood, sweat and tears our four boys went through in the last few episodes. All yeeted out the fucking window. It was all for fucking nothing? For an ending my four year old niece could come up with on the spot?

They all die and live happily ever after in Heaven?

Betrayed does not begin to cover how I feel. I was not a hardcore fan of SPN by a long shot. But I know stories. This is not how a good story ends. And SPN was a good story. It deserved better. We deserved better. Our boys deserved better.

I am standing and slow clapping for the actors though. They were truly brilliant, they worked with this shit writing and managed to get to the other side of it. I would sell my left kidney to find out what they actually thought of that ending and to also ask the showrunner what kind of drunk dream made the basis of this finale. Oh, and also ask the folks at CW who green lighted this shitstorm how they’re feeling? The 1 star ratings at IMBD are raining like the fallen angels, bitch.

God. This was long and awful but even if noone read it, it made me feel better.

I can’t even begin to form coherent thoughts regardging the lack of Cas and destiel. Maybe on another post.

#supernatural #spn #spn 15x20 #dean #sam #destiel #supernatural finale #supernatural spoilers #shitshow #supernatural betrayed us #mine

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it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream · 3 years

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Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 11

Warnings: Mentions of infant death

Word Count: 1.8k

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-19 years ago-

As per usual, Farah was bored. She was home in the kingdom of Solaria and once again her family were throwing another ball. Of course she had to be there, she was part of the royal family after all. Her sister was Queen Luna Star, she couldn’t make the family look bad by ditching the event, especially as it was held in her honour.

Big ball dresses and small talk wasn’t her thing. This was temporary however. Soon Farah would be going back to Alfea to take over as Headmistress and she’d finally start living by her own rules. Her mentor and friend Rosalind would be there to guid her and Saul, a friend she had met as a student, would be there as the Headmaster of the Specialists. She couldn’t think of better people to be surrounded with.

There was one upside to the party. People from all over the magic realms had been invited and there was one person in particular that caught Farah’s eye. She didn’t expect things to go the way they did but one thing led to another and she and the mysterious, dark haired stranger found a quiet room in the castle and made love until the rise of the morning sun.

The story goes that she awoke from a dream, a prophecy. The stranger was never seen again and later was found to be the king of the Blood Witches, an enemy to the fairies. Three weeks later and Farah found that she was pregnant. The prophecy was coming true.

“A child, born on a Soul moon, half Fairy, half Witch. Powers bestowed by the Great Dragon, will be the balance between good and evil. The key to the lives of all those who harness power, they are the one true heir to all the lands.”

The former King and Queen of Solaria were ashamed of Farah. Hiding the truth about the pregnancy from everyone. Even her sister Luna kept quiet of the affair, as she did not want anyone else to have claim to the throne, prophecy or no prophecy.

Nine months later and a girl was born. Farah was elated, however there was a dark sinister plot she didn’t know about. The doctors were ordered to do something unforgivable by Queen Luna, under the pressure from her parents. Farah was told that the baby was still born, a spell cast on the newborn to make it seem as if she were not breathing. Farah was inconsolable. Maybe the prophecy wasn’t supposed to come true. But it was.

Queen Luna had a soldier take the baby to the first world and left it on the steps of a hospital, where it would be taken care of as a changeling, nobody the wiser.

Farah grieved for her lost child but finally moved on, becoming Headmistress of Alfea and leaving royalty behind. She didn’t speak to her family, didn’t mention her sister or her lineage to anyone and changed her last name. It was kept a secret so she could live a somewhat normal life. Eventually the story was re-told to her three friends, Ben Harvey, Saul Silva and Rosalind who all swore never to tell a soul.

Farah thought that part of her life was behind her, a mere, sad memory of something that shouldn’t have been. But she was wrong. 18 years later, Saul found a changeling crying in the woods over the body of a burned one. She didn’t know it then but Farah’s life would never be the same again.

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-Y/N’s POV-

Growing up, you’d connected with books like Harry Potter. Something about you could connect with the main character. Treated unfairly over and over by families that were meant to take care of you. No belongings, no friends, a tiny room and worst of all… no parents. You’d sat in your room at nights pouring over the words in your books, imagining the magical life you wished you could escape to.

You wanted a group of friends like Ron and Hermione. The adventures, the power, the fun. Even reading those books would never prepare you for a moment like this. You’d dreamt about the day you found your birth parents, gone over and over the meeting in your head a thousand times. You hadn’t pictured it like this.

You were still in Farah’s office. She was looking at you, tears rolling down her cheeks. You were crying too, what were you supposed to say? You felt like you couldn’t breath. You’d always thought you weren’t wanted, that your parents had just given you up like people give up smoking after new years, but that wasn’t the case at all. She’d thought you were dead. She didn’t know… She didn’t know. You wanted to be mad, be angry but all you could feel was upset and confused.

“I- I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say, I don’t know… who I am.” You quickly swept the tears from your face and stood, knocking back the chair in your hurry.

“Please don’t run away Y/N, I.. I wanted to tell you sooner but I needed to be sure. I didn’t want to give you false hope and I couldn’t go through losing you all over again.” You wanted to scream, you didn’t know whether to hug the woman in front of you or run for the hills. It was all too much.

“Stella knows doesn’t she, that’s part of the reason Queen Luna took her, she’s my cousin…” You were sobbing again, more like hyperventilating. Saul had bust the door down as soon as her heard your gasps of air. In seconds you were in his arms and he was trying to get you to breath again. Your ears were ringing and you couldn’t concentrate. You just needed to get out of there.

You did the only thing you knew how to do well. You ran, taking Sauls hand in yours, you opened a portal and poof. Both of you disappeared from Headmistress Dowling's office.

Now, the truth is you thought you’d become stronger after all the training and the hard times you been through. But all this drama and truth takes the cake. How could you not run away after that overload of information?

Mums your Headmistress.. check

Dads the king of the Blood Witches…. check

Your future husband is your mothers best friend… check

Your bestfriend is actually your cousin… check

Your Auntie, the Queen of Solaria pretended you were dead and made you a changeling.. check

And to top it all off you were the answer to an ancient prophecy and apparently you were supposed to be the answer to the balance between good and evil. Just another day in the life of Y/N.

Even when you landed through the portal you were still hyperventilating. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Saul was on you again in a flash, trying to calm you down before your powers went haywire. Hey, at least you had an explanation for why they did that from time to time. You were more powerful than you’d ever thought possible.

“Angel, please try and breath, copy me, in and out, it’s okay, I’ve got you, i’m here, look at me. Y/N LOOK AT ME!” Sauls pleading and authoritative voice seemed to snap you from your panic. Your eyes were full of unshed tears and you felt physically drained. His arms came around you and his chin rested on the top of your head. God, you wanted to be mad at him for not telling you but you couldn’t. It wasn’t his place to tell you and you knew that. Plus, being in his arms was the only place you felt safe, you weren’t about to ruin that. You needed Saul more than he would ever know.

You calmed, peeking out of Sauls arms to take in your surroundings. You don’t know why your mind had taken you here, this was the last place you or Saul would probably want to see. Asterdale. The wind swept through your hair and spray from the ocean below dusted your tear streaked face.

“Saul, please, tell me what really happened here. I need to know the truth.” He nodded. You pictured the barrier around the building coming down and a flash of electricity bolted from your hands, the ruins now visible.

“It all started with Rosalind…..” He dove into telling you the truth about what really happened. How Rosalind had lead Farah, Ben and Saul to believe there was no one in the village, burned ones were the only ones left. Apparently Sky’s father had been part of her plan too, he knew the truth and Saul and him had a fight.. ending in Saul killing his best friend Andreas. It was all Rosalind’s fault.. Rosalind, the person Bloom was trying to free from Farah’s spells.

——————————————————————————————————

It had been a few hours of just talking with Saul, laying in his arms, when you both decided to return to the school. By now, people would probably start to wonder where you both were and you didn’t need to make things any more suspicious. It was also still too dangerous to be out in the open like this.

Something about the school looked different to you now. Older, more worn down. Full of lies and secrets hidden in the walls. It was as if she sensed your presence. Farah was waiting on the steps outside, pacing nervously, your friends waiting along side her. You don’t know what compelled you to do it, one minute you were walking next to Saul, the next you were in front of Miss Dowling… your mum, and then you were in her arms. At first she stilled, shocked perhaps, then she hugged you with everything she had in her, tears flowing freely, mixing with your own. It felt right. It wasn’t her fault you were a changeling. If anything, it was just as unfair on her. The baby she was excited to have, was secretly taken away from her and for years she was lead to believe a cruel lie. You were pretty sure you even heard Saul sniffle from behind you.

Your friends had been filled in by Farah, she knew you would need support after the ordeals you’d gone through. There were no words for the shock everyone had experienced today. Yet, you still felt like something bigger was on the horizon.

The burned ones were still a major threat, Bloom was still having dreams about Rosalind, and Beatrix was locked up in some magic stealing cell. Most of all, you had a mother and a father and the King of the Blood Witches, well, he was still out there.

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okay so, this is a short chapter compared to what I usually post, it's more of like a filler chapter but I hope you still like it now you've learnt the story of the Reader and Farah's relationship! Please if you have any thoughts or ideas let them be heard in the comments!!! Please reblog/like/follow <3

CHAPTER 12 ------ CLICK HERE

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sugas-sweetheart · 4 years

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Reincarnations || Sebastian Michaelis

A/N: IM SO SORRY I DELETED THE ASK BUT I HAD A SCREENSHOT BECAUSE I GET EXCITED WHEN PPL REQUEST BLACK BUTLER AND SHOW MY TWO FRIENDS - this is also a mix of both but I kinda tweaked it so that the reader doesn’t know Sebastian is their mate as it takes a little time for memories of their past lives to return once meeting him so that I could add a little more to it, I hope that’s okay! Enjoy! I’m also honoured to be the first person you sent an ask to 🥺 And I apologise for how long it took to write and it’s kind of shit oops ahdksnd I’m so so sorry

Request by: @samanthaambrosia

As you mention ‘She’ in the request I’ve made this a Fem! Reader so that I was also able to make her a maid

Upon your arrival at Phantomhive manner you could never have imagined how this would play out.

Entering the large mansion for the first time, you were greeted by the four other working staff; they welcomed you with open arms explaining that the young master and his butler were off on a business trip for the next few days. When the Queen sent you, one of her personal maids, to start working in Phantomhive manner, it confused you. You didn’t know what had prompted this, nor were you really in a position to question it. You thought that as her half angel, half demon maid, she wouldn’t let you stray very far away from her, but alas, here you were.

They gave you a tour of the grand mansion and stopped by your small living quarters to let you settle. Due to your supernatural nature, that they were unaware of, it wasn’t too hard to settle in, especially, after they had tested your reflexes to aid in “the Phantomhive welcome”.

You had been at the mansion for a couple of days now, the Lord himself and his butler were due to arrive anytime from last night. While you knew the Lord could be the tiniest bit caring, you still thought you ought to make a good impression sicne the Queen didn’t care to mention how long you would be here.

The sound of brisk knocking brought you out of your thoughtful daze as you finished buttoning up your shirt’s cuffs. The noise startled you as in your few days at the manor, you were the one to be awake and working before the others.

“Excuse me, may I come in?” A deep voice followed the knocking, which prompted you to step towards the door and open it for the individual outside.

A small gasp left the dark haired males lips as his eyes locked with yours and a sense of familiarity washed over you.

“Oh! Goodmorning, you must be Sebastian, the head butler. I’m Y/N, the maid sent by the Queen to serve the young Lord. It’s lovely to finally meet you, I’ll introduce myself to the Lord when he leaves his quarters.” A smile graced your face as you rambled on, not taking notice of his initial look of shock, and his alluring features studied you.

The familiarity and comfort his face brought you was confusing. Being fairly young compared to other angels and demons, surely you’d remember everyone you’ve met? He had a strange aura, almost definitely supernatural. You couldn’t quite place where you had seen him before and that was going to be on your mind the whole day.

“You are correct, I am Sebastian. Please come to me if you have any concerns or require help. You can continue with your daily duties then and I shall be seeing to the young master now” with a quick bow, he briskly started walking away.

There was a constant elegance to him; it kept your eyes trained on him until he rounded the corner. That feeling of familiarity still lingering within your heart.

Sebastian paused after he had turned the corner to make sure he was out of your view. You had always owned his heart, and you would forever more. The reincarnations of you kept him going through his endless demon life. In this life and the next you two were promised to each other, a constant that you both needed in lives that lasted as long as yours would.

It was just a shame that you were cursed to forget him until you crossed paths, and even then, it took time for you to recollect and gain all your previous memories. He had one item that he had gifted to you in your last existence together, he had to try jogging your memory, right?

As the day continued on, quick introductions were exchanged between you and the young Lord before you were due to get back to your usual tasks. Sebastian by his side sparing glances at you any moment he could get when he thought no one was looking. Unbeknownst to him, a certain Phantomhive was very observant of it all. So he did what anyone would do and asked him about you.

“Sebastian, what is your connection to the new maid?” Ciel questioned, pausing his musical studies briefly to peek up at his butler.

“I don’t seem to understand what you mean, my Lord” the raven haired male sent a quick glance back at the boy before continuing.

“You seemed very distracted by her this morning” the younger male mused before too continuing with his music.

Although Sebastian wouldn’t say it, Ciel was right. You had invaded his head space since his eyes gazed over you this morning and he only wished that you remembered him quicker.

Reaching into his tail coat pocket, he checked that he still had the pendent. He knew it was there, it was just a force of habit that he checked and now it mattered most. He had carried the crimson pendant since your last passing, almost fifty years ago now.

“She’s my mate, my lover. She loves me, and I her, for eternity…” it was only quiet, but Ciel heard it.

“Shouldn’t she be running into your arms then? That’s what most novels say isn’t it?” This situation had peaked Ciel’s interest more so than before, you had only given the butler a few glances when focusing on your formal introduction to the Lord. He would have expected more longing looks for what sounded like such a profound love.

“Not all love stories are that of novels, my lord. There was once a curse placed upon us, she may only regain her previous memories after meeting me again, and even then it must be prompted by something”

“Well? What are you going to do?”

“Ah, always a curious one aren’t you, my Lord? I shall deal with it later, for now you need to get back to your studies” And so he did. Sebastian decided he would confront you later, but now he just needed to figure out how. It’s not a very simple thing to spring upon someone you’ve just met. If you didn’t regain your memories then you’d probably think he was a lunatic, or just a very big flirt.

The day had passed and night was closing in. The raven haired demon had prepared himself for this moment; he had waited patiently for so many years. With his gloved hands tightly clutched around the vermillion pendent, he took cautious strides towards your figure. Your back was turned away from the rest of the room as you dusted a tall cabinet in the corner.

A light tap was detected on your left shoulder causing you to whip your head round and meet the striking blood coloured eyes of the man behind you.

“Excuse me, but I think this belongs to you” he uncurled his fingers as he spoke to reveal a ruby pendant necklace and a tight lipped smile grew on his face.

“I’m sorry, you must be wrong. But as a maid I could never own such a high value item” the very prominent apologetic tone was laced with disappointment, he could tell you were just as infatuated with the ruby as you were when he first gifted it to you those many years ago.

“Oh on the contrary, my love” he reached forward to lightly pull your hand closer to his, placing the chain into your palm.

The look of bewilderment was obvious in your face, he had just addressed you as “my love” whilst giving you a piece of jewellery no maid would own. As he closed your palm around the accessorie it was like a warm familiar feeling filled you. Short memories were unveiled and unlocked in your mind, memories of him.

You began to hesitantly move your free hand to his face to cup his cheek, you had spent decades apart and were finally reunited and it all felt too good to be true.

“Going by Sebastian I see? I could get used to that” a teasing smile broke out on you face and Sebastian’s smile widened as he saw your old self shining through.

He couldn’t wait a moment longer and pulled your face forwards to meet his lips.

You made a mental note to thank the Queen for sending you here, and hoped that you’d be by his side for eternity once more.

#kuroshitsuji sebastian #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji imagine #kuroshitsuji #black butler imagines #black butler x reader #black butler #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis #black butler sebastian

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ladyinbooks · 3 years

Text

So on ao3 juiceboxoverlord mentioned ‘ And the way Hess is so enamoured with Dan's emotions and ideology like I bet that if they had never met Hess would still fall in love with Dan on the battlefield probably.’

We all know I have an absolute, terrible weakness for this kind of thing, so I really, really couldn’t resist.

So have a mini AU.

Title: Such Violent Delights Pairing: Hess/Daniel Summary: The Antichrist and the Righteous Man meet on a battlefield. Warning: Some minor descriptions of violence/death; dub-con kissing (I mean, it’s Hess...); Hess POV

These violent delights have violent ends.

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder.

Which, as they kiss, consume.

- 'Romeo and Juliet', William Shakespeare

Hess should have seen the ambush coming.

They have been doing so well recently, in their push against Heaven. More territory has fallen to them, more people persuaded by their promises, their ideas.

He should have known it would be too good to last.

The sharp crack as he twists his hand and snaps three necks, reminds him of nothing so much as the splintering of wet wood. Around him the sounds of the dead and the dying are a cacophony, topped by Abaddon's voice bellowing orders.

The bone-white of her hair is visible at the edge of his eyeline. In her suit she is still immaculate, barking at Raum and Asmodeus as she directs his troops like the General she is.

It makes him smile – makes him bare his teeth at the next angel that tries to rush him, as he extends a hand.

That terrible, tearing sensation down his arm; a light so bright that even he almost shields his eyes. He gets a hand on the angel's wrist and pulls.

There is the searing crackle of holy flesh; the unholy sound of an angelic voice raised in a scream. The noise is enough to make the humans around him flinch back, pressing hands to their ears, in a desperate attempt to block out the death of a small piece of the fabric of the universe.

Hess ignores the shriek, and the white hot pain cracking through his finger bones. He smiles, bloodied teeth and wicked intent, and drops the carcass to the floor.

He’s distracted, unfocused, and so it is instinct that saves him, nothing more.

The sharp prickle of intent at the nape of his neck, and he sidesteps just in time to avoid a blade to the back.

He pivots; lashes out and catches the next down-swing with a scrap of shadow.

For a moment, all he can focus on is the sharp steel of the blade centimetres from his throat. The line of it is bright, burning; the runes inscribed on it are holy enough they almost make his eyes water.

A blessed blade.

He only knows one person who would carry such a thing.

He sidesteps again in time to avoid the second blade aiming to bury itself in his gut. One, two, three heartbeats, and he draws in a deep breath.

Enough, he thinks, and the word is broadcast out.

Everything shudders to a halt.

Painfully, grinding and unnatural, the world stills around him.

He doesn't often do this – doesn't often have the inclination or the energy – but sometimes there is a need for it. An itch, just to walk in a frozen reality where there are no demands on him. No threats.

“Let me go,” someone says, harsh, and Hess smiles.

He knows who the Righteous Man is, of course. He's seen Daniel Waters in reports and later – when Heaven sank their perfect claws into him – on screen and in newspapers. Images of him plastered everywhere: saviour, hero, madman.

“A little lost lamb,” he says, and hears the sharp intake of breath.

When he turns to look, Daniel Waters is still too. He's not frozen though – not like every other wretched creature in this blood-soaked field. He's bound, arms strung out by Hess's power.

And in spite of that, he's still fighting.

Tall, strong; a sharp jawline and an undeniable presence. Eyes filled with the burning silver fire of heaven, smoking with purity and determination as he wades against Hess's darkness. A battered leather jacket and scuffed up jeans. Mankind's saviour.

Daniel manages a step, then another, muscles straining as he claws his way forward. His teeth are bared as he snarls, and for one moment Hess honestly wonders if he's about to break free.

“Let me go,” he repeats, and his voice is firm and clear.

It makes Hess want to ruin him.

Blood-soaked and perfect, this creature – this man – is the image of bitter triumph; a holy sacrament, born to suffer at the hands of those who would use him. Made to fight anyway, because he's good. Because he cares.

“Why should I?” he asks, and watches the way Daniel doesn't falter.

“So I can kill you.”

And it's –

Delightful. Wonderful. It makes Hess's heartbeat skip in a way it hasn't for a long, long time.

“Well aren't you a sweet thing,” he says, just to watch the way those eyes flare brighter.

It makes him smile; makes him lick the blood from his teeth as he thinks of war and ruination, and all he could wreak on this perfect, violent creature.

Another painful step, the footfall as heavy as the centre of the earth. Daniel is closer now, arms still bound, but near enough that Hess can see the scattered imperfections of him.

A small nick at the corner of his jaw, long since scarred. The tendons of his neck as he strains, desperate, against the ropes Hess has bound him with. Blond hair, so dark it's almost brown, cropped short enough that Hess probably couldn't get a good grip of it. A perfect, snarling mouth, and a dusting of days-old stubble.

For a moment Hess wonders what colour his eyes were, before he became this pawn. This holy weapon. Were they brown, or green, or blue? Would they look at him in the same way?

Movement, and Daniel's foot lashes out. The heel of it manages to catch Hess's shin. It hits hard enough to hurt, and for a moment he falters.

Nothing has come close enough to injure him since the Before, and his concentration shatters.

The roar Daniel lets loose is triumphant as he breaks free. He lunges forward, slamming into Hess. His swords clatter to the grass, but his momentum doesn't stop.

They fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs, calloused fingers wrapping hard around Hess's throat, squeezing.

The weight of him is perfect; the heat and strength of his body a paradise Hess hasn't felt in a long, long time.

It makes him laugh, breathless, and for a moment the grip of those hands on his neck fails.

He moves - fast and terrible enough that Daniel's lip is splitting under his knuckles before he can recover from the shock. The force of it snaps Daniel's head back, and the impact shudders up Hess's arm.

He twists and they roll, scrabbling against one another until Daniel is flat on his back, Hess gripping his wrists, pressing them above his head into the mud. His fingernails are digging in, and he watches the way something flares and dies in Daniel's eyes; in the way he tries to bring a leg up, to fight against the weight of Hess across his thighs.

“Stay still, sweet thing,” Hess says, and can't help the way he leans down, leans closer. “You don't want to make me angry.”

Daniel growls beneath him, dangerous and not at all subdued. “I don't give a fuck about making you angry.”

“You should.”

The softness of Daniel's lips is a shock; the sharp inhalation of his breath a symphony. The warmth of his mouth is a victory. The taste of his blood lingers on the back of Hess's tongue, as he smiles against the Righteous Man's mouth.

He wants this, and he wants this, and he wants this.

The perfect way to get back at Heaven. To tear them down, one sanctimonious, inane figurehead at a time.

Except –

A pulse, against the pad of his thumb, thundering in time with his own heartbeat. The sharp, vicious sensation of teeth sinking into his lower lip, and Hess sighs at the feel of it.

Daniel is solid heat beneath him, tangible and human. The way he moves, the strength of him – pressed but not contained – makes an ugliness stir in Hess's chest. The first, icy crack of something threatening to splinter wide.

When he pulls back, Daniel is watching him.

“What –” he begins, and his voice is breathless. “What was –”

And this is what Hess wants. This. Those hazel eyes wide – not silver, not silver, not silver – and Heaven's champion strung out beneath him.

It's not a victory, he realises. Not even close. It's a weakness. A terrible, vicious longing to carve his way deep into this man's chest; to work out all the ways he could be a sinner. To pull him down, because he can. Because he wants to.

Because he can't think of anything else.

Daniel is tense beneath him, watching, waiting. For a moment his gaze slides sideways, snagging on something in the grass less than a foot away, and Hess smiles because he knows exactly what's going on in that angry, clever mind.

“You won't reach them,” he says, low and sweet. “By the time you tried to pick up the first blade, I'd have you weighted down in so many chains that the earth would swallow you whole.”

Daniel sets his jaw. “And if it took me a lifetime to claw my way back up and kill you, I would.”

He means it utterly, and the sincerity of him is thrilling.

This is the only person who can come close to understanding what it is like to stand with a hand on both sides of the scale and weigh destiny. The only one who understands the need for sacrifice; to acknowledge that the old world needs tearing down for a new one to rise.

Blood-soaked and dangerous, and the moment Hess lets him go, he's going to try and tear them both apart.

“Daniel,” he says. Then, “Sweet thing. Angelic fury. Heaven's weapon. Duty and righteousness and honour.”

“Shut up.” The flex of Daniel's fingers, the push back against Hess's grip, and it's nearly enough to unseat him. “Don't you dare –”

He's a killer through and through. Hess can see it, writ deep in the core of his soul. He kills because he has to; because it's right. He protects, and saves, and bleeds for a million souls that will never thank him for it.

And he's perfect.

“I could do so much with you,” Hess says, wondering. “The things we could accomplish.” It's a dream, sweet and tempting. He looks down, sees the slide to silver and smiles.

“But I won't,” he adds. “Because that would ruin you.”

“When I get up,” Daniel says slowly, “I'm going to slit your throat.”

“You're going to try,” Hess says, and hears the terrible adoration in his own voice; the soft fondness he shouldn't have. “But at the moment you're at my mercy.”

He tilts down again; watches the way Daniel tips up a little, without even realising. Sees the way those lips part on a slow, measured inhalation and the dark cut of Daniel's lashes, as for a moment he lets himself be moulded to Hess's will.

What he could do. What he wants to do to this man. It would take decades. Millennia.

“Beg,” he says against the soft, vulnerable skin of Daniel's temple.

Teeth at his ear, and he can feel the slow, careful snarl of those lips. The barely contained rage and want beating through sanctified veins. It makes him shiver.

“Go on,” he adds quietly; a savage demand.

A sharp twist, and he lets one of Daniel's wrists go; feels fingers sink into his hair and pull, twining them closer. The pain of it is a thing of beauty, and he smiles at the way he is going to be pulled apart, one atom at a time, for want of this man.

And Daniel draws back; turns his head a little until they are increments from a kiss, breathing the same air.

“You first,” he says.

#Path to Paradise #Hespherus Jones #Daniel Waters #Ficlet Fridays

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mistaeq · 3 years

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Saturday, 26th December

Romeo!Don Giovanna x Juliet!Reader: The Masque

TW // mafia is mentioned, please don't take it lightly. Mista x Trish is implied, but I've aged her up.

Today I offer you this, which I'm proud of, and it doesn't happen often. So I hope you all enjoy this.

A darker point of view on Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Naples, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their ancient strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

Is now the two hours' traffic of my fic;

The which if you with patient eyes attend,

What here shall miss, my toil shall strive to mend.

"I will be honest to thee, if thou do not mind me saying so, Don Giovanna. But I am still struggling to understand why thou wanted to show up to the event." the golden haired signore slightly chuckled, after his councilor's words, who was now helping him with fixing the bow which perfectly fit his elegant braid. He never gave up on styling his hair the same way, and now that he was showing up to an event out of pure spite, he was not going to change that.

"It is not that I wanted it, my dear Guido." the Don said, fixing his cream colored jacket's sleeves, an amused grin animating his relaxed features. "They don't expect me to show up at all, all they did was inviting me, thinking I would have chosen to not to go. And make fun of thy lord's attitude. It would be rude of mine, to not to let them know how good I am doing, despite their several attempts to push me down."

"Indeed, signore. Thy reasonment sounds just right." the young councilor Guido Mista agreed with the Don, crouching to give a better look at the lord's image in the mirror and nodding in satisfaction when he made sure the bow was symmetrical as he wanted. "In addition to this, I am pleased to inform thee about my choice of asking Lord Diavolo's daughter's hand in marriage, as soon as she will turn eighteen. Lady Trish." Giorno's grin, if possibly, widened. His councilor marrying his worst enemy's daughter? Sounded just perfect, since she was gonna move in their mansion. By her own choice. She hated her father, and had agreed to the marriage. Great to hear.

"Thou spoke music to my ears, Guido. And I thank thee for thou fixed my bow properly." the golden haired Don stood up, and started walking towards the door, eyeing at his councilor's outfit. "Get ready, we are going." Believe me, he was about to touch the door handle, when a rough voice, who always allowed itself to speak too much, interrupted his actions.

"What about thy heart, signore? No love story nor marriage for thee?" The gunslinger dared to say, perfectly knowing his Don thought he had to keep on being focused on his own affairs, rather than have love related ones. He just liked to drop the question every now and then, but started being genuinely worried. Guido know how romantic Don Giovanna could get, and the thought of him getting old without getting married, weirded him out. At first, he used to think Giorno needed time to get used to his role as a boss in the neapolitan mafia - the biggest reason of his strife against Diavolo -, but now, years had passed, and it was getting worse.

"Tender is the way love might make this man change. Thy lord is not ready to face such a thing. Unless it is really worth a try." Don Giovanna's hand lingered around the doorknob, caressing it in an attempt to examinate a thin layer of dust. "Do me the favor to tell Ghirga that cleaning up every little thing, even the most insignificant one, is definitely not optional." the blonde said, finally tightening his grip on the door handle and exiting the room. Left in the whistling silence of the place, the councilor proceeded to get ready for the event himself. He knew his signore didn't like to make someone wait.

As soon as he came in the hall, everyone turned around him and his councilor, Guido Mista, who soon blended into the crowd, for his betrothed Trish Una gripped on his arm and pulled him somewhere else. "Bothering thy councilor is not my intention, Don Giovanna. I am asking for thy permission, to take him for a while." What else could the blonde man even answer, if not agreeing with it happening. Without any doubt, he was left alone so fast, he had now nobody to cover him, as his golden hair didn't blend at all into the crowd.

A pleasant smell of cooked food and wooden furniture penetrated the Don's nose, as he gripped a glass of wine from the servant who was walking around with a tray holding some. The man shook the crystal glass a little, before he smelled the alcoholic liquid, and took a sip from it. Then, he quietly snorted. "And this would be wine. I consider myself lucky, being these people's foe. This truly doth be terrible."

Giorno mentally commented almost everything in the hall, judging the furniture... "Outdated.", the people... "Seeing them stare at me pleases me. If they are willing to criticize my appearance and attitude, I will be even more pleased.", and the service as well. "These servants are just what Lord Diavolo likes. Being so useless, it pains me." he took the last sip from his crystal glass of wine. "Let me see how much will it take for some servant to notice."

No wonder, the signore was really full of himself, and he was right, for all the people's voices murmuring when he passed by, were coming from pure envy. Diavolo staring at him, from the top of a huge flight of stairs. Don Giovanna had not noticed him, for he didn't consider necessary the action of looking above his own head. Giorno knew he was the one to be already at the top. If so, it were others who had too look up to him. He had learnt he had to stand up to ferocious beasts too, and he managed, in his life, to dominate the worst out of all the beasts. Humanity.

Plus, he was extremely focused on what was happening in front of himself, for he could see, in the middle of the hall, several couples dancing. No need to specify, that was the place where Lady Trish had brought the councilor Mista. Don Giovanna couldn't help but slightly smirk. That man had always been so loyal to him, and he was genuinely proud of him for he had found a wife and helped his affairs at the same time. He watched at the curly, dark haired councilor moving his betrother around with grace, until they accidentally bumped into another couple who was dancing beside them. The Don was now elegantly chuckling, he was amused, he was...

...Love-struck. The couple who Mista and Una had bumped into, consisted in a young lord and a beautiful creature who probably came from heavens above. The angel apologized to the pink haired Lady with a laughter, and bowed to Guido in apology. The angel... were you. Diavolo's niece/nephew had made the impenetrable heart of Don Giovanna fall in love. Could he talk about love? He wanted to. All in a matter of two seconds, the golden haired man imagined you dressed up for a luxurious wedding. What he did not know, was that there would have also been Diavolo in the crowd, watching his archenemy marry you. He had no idea you were related to him. As the same servant he had taken a glass from before passed by, Giorno gripped her arm, and pulled her closer.

"What angel is that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?" he frantically asked, his tone was serious and imposing, as if he was ready to squeeze the information out of the poor servant. But she knew nothing about you, it was not like she was a family servant. She was just there to serve for the event. "I know not, sir", the poor waitress said, holding the tray on her chest and trying to go back into the kitchen. "I apologize. Uh. More wine?" The girl also asked, as Don Giovanna remembered he had ran out of wine. But he shook his head and left the empty glass in the servant's hand, moving towards you to have a better look, not noticing he was right under the flight of stairs where Diavolo and a follower of his were standing. Then, he started to talk to himself, contemplating you.

"O, they doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems they hangs upon the cheek of night." he moved his hands together, in a similar motion as one of a prayer. "Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear. Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder angel o'er their fellows shows." Don Giovanna's fingers intertwined with each other as he spoke. "The measure done, I'll watch their place of stand, and, touching theirs, make blessed my rude hand." with his intense gaze, Giorno's left hand moved to slide on the side of his body, as the right hand touched his chest. "Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."

He made the mistake to melt right under the sight of Diavolo, who smirked in seeing him so vulnerable for such a thing. Nobody was there to tell him that falling in love with you would have been his end. The pink haired lord was not irritated, for even if Giorno had tried to humiliate him, the golden haired boss was humiliating himself now, over a fleeting love. The man on the stairs wouldn't even have needed to do anything. Not that he wanted it in the first place. He would have behaved, to show his superiority off.

But Diavolo's loyal servant, lord Cioccolata, had other ideas. "This, by his voice, should be Giovanna. Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave come hither, cover'd with an antic face, to fleer and scorn at our solemnity?" the green haired man bent over the banister to take a better look to the supercilious Giorno, who, again, had no clue of what was right above him. "Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, to strike him dead, I hold it not a sin." Cioccolata murmured, but felt his arm get gripped from his boss.

"Why, how now, kinsman. Wherefore storm you so?" the servant's jaw dropped.

"Signore, this is literally Don Giovanna, our foe, a villain that is hither come in spite, to scorn at our solemnity this night." as the same servant who Giorno had talked to approached Diavolo and offered him a glass of wine, the pink haired boss smelled it and took a little sip from it. Then, grinned. He was not in the mood for violence. For now. So he had to keep Cioccolata back from every kind of bad decision. It wasn't easy, to keep such a man from murder. Out of pure honesty.

"Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, Cioccolata. He bears him like a portly gentleman, and, to say truth, Naples brags of him to be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth." Diavolo explained. It would not have been good if something happened to that man in his mansion. He was part of Naples' pride. "I would not for the wealth of all the town, here in my house do him disparagement: therefore be patient, take no note of him. It is my will, the which if thou respect, show a fair presence and put off these frowns, and ill-beseeming semblance for a feast." was he asking his most violent servant to have... patience over his archenemy? Yes, he was, and Cioccolata was speechless.

"It fits, when such a villain is a guest. I'll not endure him." the angered man replied, trying once again to get his signore to reasonate and realize they could get rid of him so easily if they wished so. The councilor Mista was even too distracted by Diavolo's daughter to keep an eye on his boss. It could have been so simple, for Cioccolata, to...

"Am I the master here, or you? You'll not endure him? God shall mend my soul! You'll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set cock-a-hoop! You'll be the man!" the pink haired man slightly raised his voice - not enough for Giorno to hear - and made himself clear, so that if the green haired made any possible mess during his feast, he would have had to take his own responsibility.

"I will withdraw, then." the servant gave up on his ideas, but rudely. His one almost felt like a poisonous gaze. "But this intrusion shall now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall." he said, indirectly threatening an oblivious Giorno. Talking about him, during their conversation between the two men on the stairs, he turned unnoticed until Cioccolata left. When Diavolo looked down on him again, the golden haired boss was now in the middle of a crowded mess of people who was dancing, people who was eating and conversing. He was with you. Finally.

Giorno Giovanna approached you in a way you couldn't help but notice. He looked like the sun, a golden being, it caught your heart as well. Neverending seconds of staring at each other followed, until... "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this." he gently took your hand in his. It felt warm. "My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." as the man said so, he leaned in to leave a soft kiss on the back of your hand. His sweet scent overwhelming you as he moved. How gentle.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this." you withdrew your hand and slightly chuckled, reassuring him it was fine. Someway, the two of you found yourself moving away from the crowd. In a more intimate spot. Diavolo couldn't even find you. "For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch..." your sweet voice was soothing the man more than you would realize. "...and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

Giorno bit his lip in anticipation, and gently exhaled. "Have not saints lips... and holy palmers too?" he asked, leaning down right towards your soft mouth, before you moved aside and, chuckling like an angel playing in a field, avoided the gentleman's kiss, jokingly scolding his mind with a mischievous smile.

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer." You provoked him. Where had Giorno Giovanna's temperance gone? He had swore to his councilor, just before leaving his house, that he wouldn't have let love blind his senses. And there he was. Plus, you did not know each other. You did not know who you were. You did not know you should have not been there together. Due to this, he gladly accepted your game, and chuckled back. God, he was so ethereal and he did not even realize it.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do." he begged, looking almost afraid of touching you, or your waist, or your own hand. How can someone fall so deep in love after having just met someone? Does love at first sight even exist? "They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." Don Giovanna's tone sounded impatient.

But you had accepted to play his game, and now you would have played it until the very end. You smirked, staring at the blonde man's trembling lips. "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." you said, implying the fact that you wouldn't have made the first step. It made sense, though. It was him, who had compared you to a saint first. Little did you know, you were playing with fire, for that man you felt love at first sight for, was your uncle's archenemy.

Giorno grinned, and hid you more against the wall, as your hands automatically wrapped around his figure. Though you didn't move in for a kiss. Until... "Then move not... while my prayer's effect I take.", said the man, grazing with his lips against yours, and finally pressing. You felt all your senses relieve and relax, as your hands grasped on the fabric of the Don's jacket. You didn't like your uncle's crimes. You wouldn't have liked Giorno's ones too. But you had no clue. And he had no clue you were Diavolo's niece/nephew. And you were in love.

His sugary sweet lips clicked against yours a last, neverending time, when he pulled back and thought staring right in your eyes was a good idea. "Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged." Don Giovanna whispered, breathing hard against your giggling mouth. He hadn't stopped playing, you noticed with a pleasant feeling.

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took...?" you slyly asked him, clearly wanting the kiss to continue, clearly wanting more, having no idea of how wrong it was. Having no idea of how dangerous is was. Though his eyes widened, and got even closer, so close to giving you what you wanted for the second time. You felt yourself growing so enamored.

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!" he paused for a second, before he bit his own lower lip. "Give me my sin again." Giorno whispered, grabbing your waist with his hand and kissing you, almost desperately, but romantically, against the wall. He had been so focused on anything else, that he had forgotten the true flavor of love, and living it all again after he had swore he wouldn't have done it, was way too intense. Way too beautiful. Better than the art he'd been collecting the latest years.

When he pulled back, you instictively smiled and raised an eyebrow, silently chuckling a little. "You kiss by the book..." you told him, caressing his neck gently and carefully. If it were for him and you, that beautiful moment could go on for hours, days, even an eternity. But beautiful things never last. The two of you almost had a heart attack, when the arm of a blonde, long haired man grabbed your right wrist, ripping your dream in half.

"Madam/sir, your uncle craves a word with you." he almost managed to get you away from Giorno, when the Don grabbed your left wrist, and pulled you towards him, not letting the man, Tiziano to be precise, bring you away.

"What's their uncle?"

At that question, the almond eyed man smirked, as if he was ready to drop a heavy bomb on the snooty Don. "Marry, bachelor, their uncle is the lord of the house, and a good man, wise and virtuous. I nursed his niece/nephew, that you talk'd withal." as if Tiziano had read into Don Giovanna's mind, he added something else, just for the sake of making it even heavier. "I tell you, he that can lay hold of them, shall have the chinks."

Then the blonde haired Don followed the two of you around the hall, until he saw you get pulled upstairs by Tiziano, and connected his brains to what he saw. Diavolo, waiting for you upstairs, and Tiziano holding your arm so that you wouldn't have been able to run away. Four painful words formed on Giorno's whispering lips. "Are they an enemy...?" he asked to himself, looking at you up there, until Trish didn't appear as well behind you.

Trish wasn't happy to be there, she loved Guido Mista, but apparently Diavolo had called all his family back. And your presence there, only confirmed his fear. You were about to step back towards him and say something, but Tiziano caught your shoulder just in time, and pulled you close enough to whisper you the words you would have never wanted to hear. "His name is Giorno." he added more details. "Giorno Giovanna. The only appearance you should match to your great enemy."

You stood there. Empty. You and your forbidden lover had understood what was going on. And both your hearts clenched. And both your hearts suffered. How could love be so beautiful yet so evil, to make a man live and die on the same evening. How...

We all know how this story ends, we know about the pain, we know about the sorrow. But what if this time it made sense. One of the lovers is dirty with criminal blood, running through his veins, and you accept him, in the good and in the bad. Is this right...?

Or is death the punishment, for the sin that in reality your lips hadn't purged at all?

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part five #vento aureo #jjba au #jojo au #giorno giovanna #giorno x reader #diavolo #tiziano #cioccolata #trish una #guido mista #narancia ghirga #jojo fic #christmas time #don giorno giovanna #don giovanna

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pjo-whore · 3 years

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Percy In Tartarus

Chapter 1: The Fall, And Gone

ao3 link. if anyone wants to be tagged for future updates please comment!

Annabeth had seen some strange things before, having been privy to the mythological world since she was only seven years old.

Several things she could name off the top of her head was her first time at Camp Half-Blood when she witnessed her best friend die in cold blood, then proceed to be turned into a pine tree; witnessing the Stoll brothers pull of pranks that increasingly defied the laws of physics; and when she had even seen her boyfriend turned into a guinea pig by a vengeful sorceress.

And that wasn’t even half of the craziest stuff she had to deal with on the daily.

But if there was one thing she had never witnessed before, it was cars raining from the sky. If she was being honest, it wasn’t as cool as it sounded.

Like, three out of ten.

Would not recommend.

As the roof of the cavern collapsed, beams of sunlight came through from above, blinding Annabeth. Briefly, she caught a glimpse of the Argo II.

It had used its ballistae to blast a hole straight through the ground.

Giants chunks of asphalt tumbled down, along with six or seven Italian cars. One would have crushed the Athena Parthenos, but luckily the statue’s glowing aura acted as a force field, and the car bounced off.

Unfortunately, that car fell toward Annabeth.

Annabeth launched herself to the side to avoid it and accidentally rolled her bad ankle. Pain washed through her, making her lightheaded. She was only just able to flip onto her back in time to see a bright red Fiat 500 slam straight into Arachne’s silk trap, punching through the cavern floor and disappearing with the Chinese spider-cuffs.

As Arachne fell, she screamed like a freight train on collision course.

More chunks of debris slammed through the floor, riddling it with holes.

The Athena Parthenos remained undamaged, thankfully, but the marble under its pedestal was a starburst of fractures.

When everything settled and debris stopped falling, Annabeth was finally able to calm down and take stock. She was covered with cobwebs. She trailed the strands of leftover spider silk from her arms and legs like the strings of a marionette, but somehow none of the debris had hit her.

Annabeth wanted to believe that it had been the statue of her mother that had protected her, but bitterly, she suspected it may have been nothing but luck.

Around her, the army of spiders had disappeared.

Either they had fled back into the shadows, or they had fallen into the chasm along with Arachne, and there was no lost love from Annabeth for either option.

As natural light flooded the cavern, Arachne’s silk tapestries along the wall crumbled to dust. Annabeth could hardly bear to watch it, especially when the tapestry depicting Percy and her kissing underwater turned to nothing.

But none of it mattered the moment Annabeth heard her boyfriend calling from above.

“Annabeth!”

“Here!” She sobbed. It hurt to yell. “Over here!”

Her terror left her in one massive wave of relief. As the Argo II descended, she could see Percy leaning over the railing, waving to her. Black hair whipping in the wind, smile crooked, he appeared like a god sent from Elysium. His smile was better than any tapestry Annabeth had ever seen.

The room kept shaking, and with no lack of difficulty, Annabeth pulled herself to her feet. Her backpack was missing, along with Daedalus’ laptop.

Her celestial bronze knife, which she’d had since she was seven, was also gone.

Annabeth wanted to cry. It felt like she had lost a part of herself.

Above her, the Argo II came to a stop about forty feet from the floor. A rope ladder was lowered, but Annabeth ignored it as she stood in a daze, head still heavy.

Percy appeared at her side, lacing his fingers with hers.

He gently turned Annabeth away from the pit and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. Annabeth buried her face in his chest and finally broke down in tears.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re together.”

Percy didn’t say “you’re okay” or “we’re alive.” After all the two had been through, he knew the most important thing was that they were together. Annabeth felt fit to bursting for the love she held for him, and she hugged him tighter.

Around them their friends gathered. Nico was there, but Annabeth’s head felt so fuzzy that it didn’t even surprise her. It only seemed right for him to be there.

“Your leg!” Piper exclaimed. She kneeled next to Annabeth and examined the Bubble Wrap cast, fretting over her friend’s injury. “Oh, Annabeth, what happened?”

Annabeth wanted to explain, but when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. She felt so light-headed, and her tongue felt swollen. Her throat was parched. Percy seemed to know what she needed and called for a water bottle, which Leo grabbed from his utility bet and quickly handed over to her.

As she started, it became easier.

Percy didn’t let go of her hand either, which helped to motivate her.

When she finished, everyone was staring at her in disbelief.

“Gods of Olympus,” Jason said. “You did all that alone – and with a broken ankle!”

“Well, some of it with a broken ankle,” Annabeth said weakly.

Percy broke out in a grin. “But you made Arachne weave her own trap? I knew you were good, but by the gods – generations of Athena kids tried and failed, but you did it! You found the Athena Parthenos!”

Attention switched to the statue.

“So … what do we do with her?” Frank asked. “She’s huge.”

“We have to take her with us to Greece,” Annabeth said. “She’s powerful. Something about her will help us stop the giants’ rise.”

“The giants’ bane stands gold and pale, won with pain from a woven jail,” Hazel said, quoting the prophecy. Her expression gained a hint of admiration. “It was Arachne’s jail. You tricked her into weaving it.”

With a lot of pain, Annabeth thought humorlessly.

Leo raised his hands in a mock framing, trying to measure the Athena Parthenos. “Well, it might take some rearranging, but I think we can fit her through the bay doors in the stables. If she sticks out at the end, I might have to wrap a flag around her feet … or something.”

Annabeth shuddered at the image. She imagined the Athena Parthenos jutting out from the trireme with a sign across its pedestal that read “WIDE LOAD.”

Then she remembered the other lines the prophecy: “the twins snuff out the angel’s breath, who holds the key to endless death.”

“What … what about you guys?” Annabeth said. “What happened with the giants?”

Percy told her about rescuing Nico and the surprise appearance of Bacchus, along with the fight with the twin giants in the Colosseum.

Nico didn’t say much. He didn’t say anything at all. The poor guy looked like he had been wandering through a frozen wasteland for a week. Percy shared what Nico had learned about the Doors of Death, and that to properly close them, they had to be shut on both sides.

Overworld and Underworld.

Even with the sunlight from above, Percy’s news made the cavern seem dark again.

“So, the mortal side is in Epirus.” The gears in Annabeth’s head begun to turn. “I mean … at least that’s somewhere we can reach.”

Nico grimaced. “But it’s the other side that’s the problem – Tartarus.”

The word seemed to echo eerily through the chamber.

The pit behind the group of demigods exhaled a cold blast of air, causing Annabeth to shiver. The shadows got darker, the pit echoed, and an icy feeling crept up Annabeth’s spine. Annabeth knew with certainty that the chasm went straight to the Underworld.

Percy must have felt it too because he guided Annabeth away from the edge.

Slowly and carefully, the group migrated back to the Argo II.

Annabeth’s arms and legs trailed spider silk like a bridal train, and she wished that she had something to cut the silk off. She almost asked Percy to do the honours, but he leaned in and began talking. He frowned. “You know, Bacchus mentioned something about my voyage being harder than I expected. Not sure why he –”

Suddenly, the chamber groaned, making the Athena Parthenos tilt violently to the side. Its head caught on one of Arachne’s support cables, but the marble foundation beneath the pedestal was crumbling quickly.

For a horrible moment, Annabeth thought the statue was going to fall.

Her stomach dropped.

“Secure it!” She cried out.

Thankfully, her friends understood what she meant almost immediately.

“Zhang!” Leo called, already running. “Get me to the helm, quick! The coach is up there alone!”

Frank shifted into a giant eagle, pausing only for a moment to allow Leo to jump onto his back, and the two of them soared toward the Argo II.

“Don’t worry about running, I’ll be back for you guys in just a second. Just don’t reinjure Annabeth’s ankle,” Jason said to Percy and Annabeth. Then he turned and wrapped his arms around Piper, and he summoned the winds and shot into the air.

“There’s no time, this floor won’t last!” Hazel warned, but Jason didn’t hear her. She turned to the others. “The rest of us need to get to the ladder as quick as possible!”

The group started making their way to the Argo II less carefully, speed the only thing on their minds.

Plumes of dust and cobwebs blasted from the holes in the floor, causing the demigods to inhale the dust and choke. The spider’s silk support cables trembled like massive guitar strings and began to snap. The floor lurched and crumbled.

When they reached the ship, Annabeth watched anxiously as Hazel lunged for the bottom of the rope ladder, which was swaying wildly with the shaking of the cavern. Hazel gestured for her brother to follow. Nico was in no condition to pull himself up, still sickly pale and thin and limping. Hazel had to grab him from beneath the armpits to hoist him up.

Percy held onto Annabeth tighter, shifting on his feet worriedly.

“It’ll be fine,” he muttered. “It has to be fine – we’re so close.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

Above, grappling lines shot from the Argo II and wrapped around the Athena Parthenos. One lassoed Athena’s neck like a noose. Leo was shouting orders from the helm as Jason and Frank flew frantically from line to line, trying to secure them.

Nico had managed to climb a quarter the way up when a sudden sharp pain shot up Annabeth’s bad leg, causing her to cry out and stumble.

“What is it?” Percy asked.

Annabeth didn’t have an answer.

Everything was in a haze and her head felt heavy. Confused, she staggered toward the ladder again, only to find that she could not. Instead, she was moving backward. And then her legs were swept out from beneath her in one pull, and she fell on her hands and knees. There was a hollow sound as her head bounced off the ground, and Annabeth saw stars.

“Her ankle!” Hazel screamed from the ladder. “Guys, quickly! Cut it! Cut it!”

Annabeth didn’t understand. Cut her ankle?

Apparently, Percy didn’t understand what Hazel meant, either. He grabbed Annabeth’s hands and tried to pull her back to her feet, but it caused more pain and he stopped when Annabeth began to cry. Then, suddenly, an invisible force yanked Annabeth backward and dragged her toward the pit with the force of Heracles.

Percy yelled out in fear. He lunged for Annabeth, grabbing her arms, digging his heels into the ground. Unfortunately, the momentum still carried him along with her.

“Help them!” Hazel yelled.

Nico jumped down from the ladder, headless of his injured state, and began hobbling in the direction of the pit as Hazel tried to disentangle her cavalry sword from the rope. The others were still focused on the Athena Parthenos and Hazel’s cry was lost in the general chaos.

Annabeth’s stomach dropped when she was yanked back another few feet.

She was terrified.

Now that Annabeth realized what was happening, it was too late. She was tangled in Arachne’s spider silk. She had assumed it was all loose lines, but with the entire floor covered in cobwebs, she hadn’t noticed that one of the strands was wrapped around her foot – and the other end went straight into the pit. It was attached to something heavy down in the darkness. Something was pulling her in.

Percy continued to pull uselessly on her, until something popped in her right shoulder, making her scream in pain. Startled, Percy slipped and fell past Annabeth. A large chunk of marble was upended behind them, granting them momentary pause from falling.

Percy finally seemed to get his wits about him and pulled out Riptide.

Annabeth couldn’t see it from where she was scrabbling for purchase against the marble floor, but she heard the blade hiss as it cut through the air.

With a snap, a wave of relief crashed through Annabeth once the pressure was released on her ankle. She tried pulling herself up, but the ground trembled as the marble cracked further, and the chunk behind them dropped into the looming chasm. Percy, who was behind her, tumbled down the sudden incline and, in a panic, reached out for something to grab – which happened to be Annabeth’s good ankle.

Together, they slipped further from the pull of Percy’s weight.

Terrified, Annabeth screamed and kicked him away. “Let go of me!”

“Fuck!”

Percy disappeared over the edge.

She scrambled backward as Nico hobbled past her and leaned over the edge, eyes wet.

“Annabeth help!” Percy cried. Annabeth crawled back in fear as the floor cracked further. Nico either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Percy was partway into the pit and dangling over the void. He had managed to catch a ledge almost fifteen feet below, but that wasn’t going to help him. He was holding on with one hand, struggling to get a drip with his other, which was bleeding profusely from a large gash across his palm. Several feet away from the hole sat Riptide, blood staining its blade.

No escape.

Annabeth jerked back.

She could have sworn a voice echoed from the pit, mocking her. Bile rose in her throat.

I go to Tartarus, and your loved one will come, too.

The pit shook violently, as if it were eagerly anticipating its next meal – its next victim.

Nico leaned over the edge of the chasm, hopelessly thrusting out his hand to help. But he was too far away. Nico knew it, Annabeth knew it – and Percy knew it, too.

“Percy,” Nico said, “grab my hand!”

Percy’s face was almost white with effort.

Hazel was still yelling for help from the others.

Even if they did hear her over the chaos, they would never make it in time.

Annabeth felt like her whole world was crashing down around her. She couldn’t comprehend that Percy was going to die. Even from a few feet away, she could feel the pull of the pit. She could see the darkness slowly rising, trying to claim Percy.

Percy gasped when the ledge shuddered and shifted. He looked up at Nico fifteen feet above, hand still extended. Percy’s face twisted as something final crossed his expression.

“The other side, Nico.”

Annabeth didn’t understand right away, but Nico did. He shook his head violently. “No, Percy –”

“The other side! I’ll see you there. Understand?”

Nico’s expression turned pained. “But –”

“Lead them there!” Percy said. “Promise me! Please!”

It suddenly struck Annabeth that Percy couldn’t see her. He had his eyes locked on Nico. Beside her, Nico looked lost. He stuttered. “I – I will.”

Below Percy, somewhere from the endless void, a voice laughed in the darkness.

Ice crawled up Annabeth’s spine.

A sacrifice. Such a beautiful sacrifice to wake the goddess.

It finally clicked in Annabeth’s mind.

A one-way trip.

A very hard fall.

And Percy looked scared.

Annabeth couldn’t bring herself to watch anymore.

She looked away, and Percy was gone.

#pjo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #house of hades #tartarus #percy in tartarus #percy alone in tartarus #house of hades rewrite #most of this was lifted from the og book #angst #heroes of olympus

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

Text

The Witcher, The Bard, and Their Guardian Angel pt.3/4

(Other parts on my pinned Masterlist/AO3)

“Jaskier, get down!” Geralt shouted to the bard who was watching the fight from behind a bush.

Jaskier yelped and ducked down just in time as a ball of venom flew over this head.

Geralt hissed as he turned back to face the archespore that was growing new shoots all over the ground. “Damn it!”

He moved his fingers quickly and shot a blast of fire at the plant using igni. It burst into flames and burnt to ash quickly. He spun round in a pirouette to make sure he had killed the main plant and not one of its smaller offshoots, but fortunately he was surrounded by limp lifeless plant matter.

“Is it dead?” Jaskier called from his hiding spot. “It looks dead, right?”

Geralt wiped the venom coated sword on the grass and then sheathed it on his back. “It’s dead.” He confirmed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Not even a scratch, I do have the famous White Wolf to protect me after all.” Jaskier cooed as he jumped into Geralt’s arms.

Geralt grunted but caught the bard with a roll of his eyes.

“Next time I tell you to leave the disgusting looking plant alone, will you please listen to me?” Geralt sighed.

Jaskier grinned mischievously up at him “Oh but where’s the fun in that! I wouldn’t have gotten to watch you fight otherwise, and you know how much I adore that.” Jaskier smirked and stroked a long finger down Geralt’s cheek.

“I’ll drop you.” Geralt warned.

“No you won’t.” Jaskier laughed.

Geralt frowned, seriously considering dropping the bard on his ass.

“Be more careful next time.” He sighed.

Jaskier leaned up to press his lips to Geralt’s cheek. “Of course, dear heart.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. He knew that Jaskier’s promise meant nothing. He was too curious and severely lacked a self preservation instinct, preferring to rely on Geralt to get him out of trouble.

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” He grumbled and dropped Jaskier carefully back to the floor. The bard pouted at him but said nothing.

They had been travelling together for just over a decade now. Geralt hadn’t meant to let the bard tag along for that long but after a few years together on and off, he found he was quite fond of Jaskier’s company. He filled the silence that Geralt hadn’t even realised had been bothering him before. He certainly helped when it came to coin. Jaskier had taken charge of haggling with their clients and he was the one who would retrieve the pay after a successful hunt, especially when royalty or nobility were involved. Not to mention the coin his songs brought in, an extra income that helped pay for lodgings and supplies, as well as rousing up a few more desperate contracts whenever they were in town.

Their relationship had grown and developed before either of them had really realised. They had never really talked about it but the pet names had slowly become more intimate, on Jaskier’s part anyway, and the hugs began to linger, sharing bedrolls for heat became sharing bedrolls because they wanted to. If Geralt was walking along side Jaskier then it wasn’t unusual for the bard to slip his hand into Geralt’s and Geralt never pulled away, he didn’t want to.

Then came the kisses.

Natural as breathing.

One winter Geralt and Jaskier had said their goodbyes, Jaskier heading to Oxenfurt and Geralt to Kaer Morhen, and Jaskier had leant in to kiss him. It wasn’t passionate or lust driven. It was a simple kiss goodbye, as if they’d been doing it for years.

Geralt had stared after the bard as he’d sauntered away and he’d thought about the kiss all winter.

When they’d reunited in spring Geralt had pulled his bard into fierce kiss and then buried his face in Jaskier’s neck, letting his familiar scent wash over him. Jaskier had returned the kiss eagerly and from then on their relationship and melted into one beyond platonic.

Geralt was already mourning the loss of his bard. Jaskier was human which meant that Geralt, if he survived the monsters, would not have long with his companion. So every day, every second counted. It had to. He couldn’t waste his time with Jaskier.

Which was why Jaskier’s penchant for trouble bothered him so much.

Humans were so ridiculously fragile.

“Geralt? What’s going on in that big old brain of yours?” Jaskier’s hands were on his cheeks, pulling him from his thoughts, and looking up at him with his beautiful cornflower blue eyes. “Is it the child?”

Geralt growled. “No.”

“When are we going to talk about what happened?” Jaskier sighed and rested his forehead against Geralt’s.

Geralt closed his eyes and breathed in the bard’s scent, letting it calm him and pushing away all thoughts of his mortality.

“The path is no place for a child, Jaskier.” He sighed. “I’m not taking him away from his family.”

“And how do we know they’re a boy?” Jaskier teased.

Geralt hummed. “I’m not taking them away from their family.” He amended.

“You should at least visit.” Jaskier’s hands were now threading through his hair gently. “You saw what happened when you try to deny Destiny.”

Geralt hummed again.

Jaskier pulled away and kissed his forehead. “Come now, Geralt. We shall ride for Cintra and I won’t hear another word against it!”

“Jaskier.” He sighed.

“Stop complaining, witcher. We’re going.” Jaskier said firmly. “Don’t forget, I saved your life, you brute. You owe me!”

Geralt couldn’t help but smile. Despite the fact that Geralt had saved Jaskier’s life many times over the last decade, the bard still insisted on playing that card.

The air crackled around them and a portal shimmered open in the air. A tall mage in a long hooded robe stepped through.

“What the…” Geralt murmured.

Jaskier scent soured and his pulse began to race.

The bard was afraid, more afraid than Geralt had ever known him, not even when a giant had picked him up by his ankles and tried to eat him.

“Mihangel.” Jaskier’s voice was shaking and barely above a whispered.

“You remembered.” The mage smiled softly, his voice was low and rich, full of untold knowledge.

“Jaskier, what’s going on?” He pushed the bard behind him, shielding him from the mage that had scared him so much.

“Ah, well, funny story.” Jaskier stammered. “When I said I saved your life, it wasn’t so much me as him, but you know, I found you and brought you back to town so I definitely helped!”

“Your bard begged for help, for anyone that could save you. You were dying, witcher.” Mihangel said calmly.

Geralt nodded. “I remember.”

“I saved your life at his request.” Mihangel’s voice was almost hypnotic. “And now I have come to claim what is owed to me.”

Geralt frowned and stepped towards the mage, making sure he was between Mihangel and his bard. “And what exactly is that?”

“A life debt.” Jaskier wailed behind him. “Oh gods, I’m too young to die!”

Mihangel laughed, a rich warm laugh that reminded Geralt of his brother Eskel. “Is that why you stink of fear, bard?”

Jaskier snorted indignantly. “I smell just fine! Tell him Geralt.”

Geralt glanced behind him and shrugged.

“Oi!” Jaskier protested.

“What do you want from him? I’ll pay his debt.” Geralt suggested.

The mage laughed once more. “Oh I sincerely doubt that you’ll be able to, witcher but I accept these terms.” He held his hand out and Geralt shook it.

“Oh hang on!” Jaskier barrelled past Geralt and broke their hands apart. “Geralt, you don’t even know what you’re agreeing to!”

Mihangel laughed. “You should have listened to your bard, witcher.”

Geralt frowned. “Why? What did you want?”

“My sister is getting married this summer. She was hoping to have the famous Jaskier play for her, but I supposed the famous witcher Geralt of Rivia will have to do.” Mihangel pulled off his hood, revealing the intricate braids in his hair. “You have two months, witcher. I wish you luck. You’ll need it.”

And with that Mihangel portalled away.

Jaskier burst into gleeful laughter, dropping to the floor and he clutched his stomach. “Oh ho ho!” He burst out between laughs. “I cannot wait to see this one!”

“Shut up, Jaskier.” Geralt grumbled.

“I told you that you should learn the lute!” He giggled.

“Shut up!” Geralt growled louder.

“But oh no! The mighty witcher was too good for my lowly lute playing skills. Ha!” Jaskier was on his back trying to contain his laughter.

Geralt swore and swiftly mounted Roach. He kicked her into a gallop and left the bard in a cloud of dust.

“Oh hey, wait, no. Geralt!!” He heard Jaskier call after him followed by the sound of his footsteps as he ran after him. “Geralt wait up!”

___________

Jaskier was starting to seriously worry about his lute, it had been a gift from the elves following one of his earlier adventures with Geralt. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Filavandrel had decided to honour him with the instrument but he was certainly not complaining.

All other lutes paled in comparison. The intricate decoration on the wood was just stunning and the strings had never once broken which was a miracle. He was sure they had been enhanced by magic. Over a decade of using the instrument and not even the highest, tightest, string had snapped under his fingers. He did not miss the days when he couldn’t play because the snapped strings had sliced into his fingertips, not to mention the coin he had saved on replacing the strings.

Oh and the sounds he could pull from the instrument. They were heavenly, enchanting, more beautiful than a siren’s call. The lute sang in his hands and resonated so clearly, so richly.

To the gods he was in love.

None of that mattered now though, not when his beloved instrument was in the hands of his witcher.

Now Jaskier would be the first to sing Geralt’s praises, remind the world of his goodness, his heroic nature, his heart, but Jaskier currently wanted to tear the lute from Geralt’s hands and make sure the world never had to endure this torture ever again.

“Melitele have mercy on us, stop that Geralt!” He groaned and pulled his lute away, cradling it in his arms. “I’m sorry, sexy, he didn’t mean it. I promise.” He cooed to his precious lute.

Geralt snorted. “Sexy?”

“Now now, don’t get jealous. You know I’ll always come back to you, my darling witcher.” He winked at Geralt. “Even if you are trying to destroy my eardrums. You having many talents my dear, lute playing is not one of them.”

“Would you just shut up? I’m running out of time.” Geralt went to grab the lute back.

Jaskier jumped back and held the lute out of Geralt’s reach. “Take a break, please, Geralt. I implore you.”

“Can’t. Have to learn to pay off your fucking debt!” Geralt growled.

Jaskier licked his lips and smirked at the witcher, pushing him back with his free hand. “And who’s fault is that? No no. Don’t say mine, Geralt. This is all on you!”

“I thought he was going to ask you to fight something.” Geralt grumbled. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“And I appreciate your concern, but really why would a literal sorcerer ask a bard to fight?” Jaskier tilted his head at Geralt, allowing his fingers to grip onto the fabric of Geralt’s shirt. “I mean I thought he wanted to use my organs for some weird magic shit.”

Geralt scoffed.

“Hey! How was I supposed to know that ‘life debt’ didn’t mean you have to sacrifice your own life?” Jaskier pouted.

“You were at Cintra.” Geralt rolled his eyes.

“And I’d already asked Mihangel if he wanted to call Law of Surprise, he declined and went all ominous and ‘Remember my name’” Jaskier sunk into his lower register to do his finest impression of the mage. “I panicked!”

“You are nothing but trouble, bard.” Geralt sighed but stopped trying to grab the lute.

Jaskier grinned and pulled the witcher into a kiss. “It’s why you love me.” He purred against Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm.” Geralt agreed before capturing his lips in another kiss, biting at Jaskier’s bottom lip as they pulled apart.

Geralt took advantage of Jaskier’s distraction and stole the lute back.

“Oi!” Jaskier pouted.

“Shut up and help me.” Geralt snapped.

“Well I can’t shut up if you want me to teach you.” He pointed out.

“Jaskier.” Geralt groaned in exasperation.

“Fine fine. Come here, you brute.” Jaskier said defeatedly.

They’d already been at it for two months and Geralt had barely made any progress. His hands were much better suited to wielding swords than lutes. Jaskier was just lucky the Geralt’s fingers were nimble enough to dance, albeit awkwardly, on the strings. Years of using witcher signs had helped with that, and Jaskier was more than familiar with how good Geralt could be with his fingers.

“Jaskier.” Geralt warned in a soft voice.

He blushed. “After the wedding perhaps?”

“Don’t count on it.” Geralt growled but he was half smiling at Jaskier in that fond soft way that made Jaskier’s heart melt.

“We shall see, dear heart.” Jaskier winked at his student.

By the time the sun had begun to set and they needed to get ready for the wedding, Geralt could just about finish a very basic tune but he couldn’t sing at the same time. Jaskier would have to help, they were both counting on Geralt’s humiliation being entertainment enough and that Mihangel would allow Jaskier to take over.

Otherwise it would be a very dull wedding indeed. Jaskier had enlisted some of his friends from Oxenfurt to help for the evening. Whilst the lute was a perfectly adequate instrument on its own, for a grand event such as a wedding, a fuller band was always a better option. He’d warned his friends that Geralt would have to play at least the first song. Luckily the news had delighted them and bets had been made about just how terrible the witcher would be.

Jaskier was ashamed to say he’d betted against the witcher on this one. His friend Essi had been certain that Jaskier was being too harsh on his partner, poor Essi had no idea what she was in for.

They wandered down into the hall, Jaskier was wearing his finest doublet that hadn’t been torn to pieces by monsters or by Geralt’s own hands. It was a soft silk lilac doublet, with a delicate floral pattern that shimmered in the light. Geralt had grumbled but allowed himself to be forced into formal evening wear. He was sporting a rather elegant dark burgundy doublet with gold thread stitching a rather beautiful meadow of buttercups across his torso.

Jaskier liked to pretend that he wasn’t the possessive sort but he found it immensely satisfying watching Geralt walk through the crowd covered in buttercups and smelling like chamomile, Jaskier’s preferred scent.

“Are you ready, White Wolf?” He leaned to whisper in Geralt’s ear.

“Can’t be worse than the striga.” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier laughed. “Oh my darling, this is so much worse. A striga is merciful. She kills you quickly. Nobility are more monstrous than anything you’ve faced in battle.”

Geralt snorted a laugh and pulled the lute from off his back.

It was time to repay the debt, at last.

Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @innocentcinnamonpun @dearest-queerest-nux @awitchersbard @genkitaco @justalittletomfoolery

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier fanfiction #geralt/jaskier #jaskier #geralt #the witcher the bard and their guardian angel #wolfie's witcher writing

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