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rorywritesjunk · 4 months

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Be gentle with yourself as you uncover Your best kept secrets yet to be discovered

Buggy meets an infamous pirate who dabbles in magic that everyone seems to be after, but they only have eyes for Buggy. Why is he so special? Rating: PGish. Warning: None. Buggy is just grumpy. A/N: My “Howl’s Moving Castle” fic based off the movie because I never read the book. It will have different moments than the movie just to omit some things. This story uses “You” but I couldn’t not give the character a name and for some reason “Shore” is what I thought of. And Shore is referred to as they/them, nonbinary, and breaks hearts wherever they go. Buggy is Sophie in this fic, is 22, and not always in a good mood. Enjoy!

Title comes from “Better In The Morning” by Birdtalker.

TAGLIST: @fanaticsnail

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4

Chapter II

When Buggy got up the next morning he felt like he was trampled by elephants. Everything just ached and his entire body was stiff. He rubbed his face, eyes barely open as he threw the blankets off and forced himself to sit up. Last night couldn't cause this much discomfort, right? He pushed himself off the mattress, hunched over as he stood on his feet. Maybe he needed to do some stretching before breakfast.

He made his way to the mirror hanging over his dresser. His room wasn't big, just a cot, dresser, a chair, and a mirror he looked at himself with when he'd practice doing his makeup. Not that it did any good, he didn't perform, there was no point to it, but it was a little joy he had.

Yawning, he pulled the hem of his shirt up, rubbing his face on it to get rid of any dried drool or eye goop first before he finally opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror.

It took him a few seconds to realize what he was looking at.

He was looking at himself but… older. Much older. At least fifty years older. Buggy stared at himself with wide eyes as he poked and tugged at the wrinkles on his face before slapping himself a few times to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

He pinched his arm to wake up and noticed how wrinkled and withered his hands looked. Both of them were and when he tried to make a fist he found it to be difficult, everything was so stiff.

He let out a scream that resounded through the entire tent.

Did-did that witch curse him last night? Why was he suddenly so old? He was young yesterday before bed but now …

His once vibrant blue hair was now silver, his eyes a little cloudier, only his nose remained the same: still big, round, and red on his face.

“Buggy, you okay in there?” Someone asked from the other side of the door, jiggling the door knob.

“Don't come in!” He shrieked, voice hoarse and weak. Even that changed?! “I'm… I'm fine, just feeling sick.”

“Huh, okay.”

He heard the footsteps retreat, leaving him alone once more. What could any of them do to help? Likely make some cruel comments about his appearance, Oh, Buggy, you were cursed to be an ugly old man? How is that different from every other day? was something that would be said. There were even crueler things to be said, things he tried to not even think of, but it was hard not to as he stared at himself in the mirror, taking in the appearance of someone in their 70s.

He needed to do something. He couldn't stay here.

Buggy didn't know where he was going to go. He already collected what he would need before sneaking out of the circus while everyone was waking up and getting ready for their practices. He wondered if anyone would miss him.

He passed through the market, making his way to the edge of town. He saw a crowd gathering nearby, pointing off to the distance while some talked about a land ship, which didn’t make sense to Buggy.

“That’s Shore’s land ship! They’re on the move!”

“I wonder if they’re going to stop here? I don’t want them to steal my heart!”

“You’re not pretty enough for that.” Laughter followed that last statement and Buggy flinched when he heard it. He had heard the same back at the circus, and while this jab wasn’t directed at him, it still stung. Who was Shore exactly? Was it his companion from last night, the one who helped get him away from the Marines, or someone else entirely?

There was talk as well of a missing princess, of an impending war, and other nonsense Buggy didn’t care about. It made sense why the Marines were everywhere if there was the possibility of war, but it wouldn’t matter to the circus. They were loyal to no one but themselves, they would move from city to city, doing what they could to avoid it. Buggy now would do the same to avoid it, no longer tethered to anything.

Shaking his head, he continued onward. It was going to be a lot of walking but he could manage.

No, he couldn’t manage. He was able to get someone with a cart to take him far to the outskirts, to the bottom of the foothills of the mountains. He asked for directions once from a cabin, being warned that the path was dangerous and that there were witches, wizards, and even pirates up in the mountains but he didn’t care. He needed to find answers from someone.

Buggy was certain he had been walking for an eternity, he must be far away from the town, but when he turned around after walking an hour up the mountain path, he screamed and kicked a rock in frustration. If he was younger he wouldn’t be having trouble walking fast, but if he was younger he wouldn’t be doing this. Damn that Alvida for her stupid curse! Why did she have to curse him? What did he do to deserve this?

He needed to take a break from walking, so he found a boulder to sit on as he looked out over the town. Was this even the right decision, to go into the unknown to find help when he wasn’t even sure how to ask for it? He sighed heavily and rubbed his face. Maybe he’d die up in the mountains.

Looking around his surroundings, all he saw were boulders and shrubs, though one had a thick branch sticking out of it. Maybe that could be used for a walking stick, help him keep his balance and move a little faster along his journey. Slowly he got to his feet, resting his hands on his knees as he straightened up and made his way over to it. It looked perfect so he grabbed it, giving it a few tugs before it came loose from the shrub.

He fell back in surprise when he saw a scarecrow stuck to the other end of it. The head was a turnip with a dull expression on its face, there was a blue wig affixed to its head, the shade lighter than Buggy's own hair color. The outfit was made of rags it seems, likely this poor think had been out in the elements for a while, looking as though critters nibbled on it.

He could only stare at it in surprise as he struggled to his feet. The scarecrow stood upright on its pole before tilting itself forward to look down at Buggy. Once upright he looked it over before shaking his head, grumbling about magic and nonsense. He was fed up with all of it so he turned to walk away, but his new friend followed, hopping along behind him. Buggy turned to glare at the scarecrow.

“What?!” He demanded. “I don't have anything for you, leave me alone!”

The scarecrow paused briefly, considering Buggy's demand, but it hopped along after him. He couldn't believe it, why? Was it going to steal his food? Could a scarecrow kill a human? He didn't want to find out and he wasn't up to fighting it off. He needed to think of a way to get rid of it and as he glanced upwards, noticing the dark clouds that were starting to loom over him, he had an idea.

“So, you want to join me on my walk? I don't blame you, I am Buggy the Genius Jester after all.” He boasted to the expressionless turnip head. “If you want to be helpful, go find me some shelter before the rain comes. If it's adequate I may consider letting you join me.”

The scarecrow seemed to consider Buggy’s offer before hopping off ahead of him. Was it really that easy? He smirked as it got farther away from him, clearly having more energy that he did currently. At least he was alone once more.

He continued along the path, starting to feel the ache in his bones and muscles more now than he would had he been a young man. Why was he cursed with being old? Why couldn't the witch curse him with something else? Buggy tightened his coat around him and sighed. This was awful. He hated all of this. Curse the witch herself for putting Buggy through this!

As he grumbled along, the rain started. He groaned loudly, wanting to give up. It was a cold and miserable kind of rain, soaking through his clothes and to his skin. Everything that ached before was now worse, his body wanting to give up. Everything was terrible.

He was ready to give up, just crumple to the ground and let nature reclaim him, but a sound caught his attention. It sounded like… sails in the wind? Out here in the mountains? He looked around, trying to see where the noise was coming from, when a ship appeared behind him. It hovered above the ground, soaring over Buggy, and his jaw dropped. Was that the ship seen from the market? Is this Shore's ship?

The scarecrow returned, following after it. Buggy couldn't believe it. Did it bring the ship to him? How was he supposed to get onboard?

The scarecrow seemed to recognize Buggy’s predicament and before he knew it, the scarecrow managed to catch hold of Buggy, bouncing along after the ship. There was a door along the side of it with a set of stairs leading up into it. That was a little confusing to Buggy, was this ship sea worthy to have a door that would no doubt be in the water? He didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the scarecrow was catching up to the ship, bouncing all the way up to the bottom step and releasing Buggy. He wasn’t expecting that, nearly falling backwards in surprise but he managed to grab hold of it.

When he looked behind, the scarecrow was still following along, but there was no room for it to join him. Buggy gave the scarecrow a half-assed salute, both pleased he had shelter and that he was about to lose the damn scarecrow. “Thanks for the help!”

Laughing, he climbed the steps up to the door and turned the knob. It took a few tries before he was able to finally barge in, stumbling into a darkened room that was below the main deck. He shivered, looking around for anything to warm up with, but to his delight there was a raised up fireplace, open on all sides with a flue above it. There was minimal smoke, the fire was just a small flame upon a log when he approached. Was this safe? He didn’t care, he was soaked to the bone and freezing, so he grabbed a nearby log and set it in the fire before finding a chair to pull up close to it.

“Damn rain, damn witch, damn curse!” He grumbled as he sat down, holding his hands out to the flame, hoping to get some warmth. He was tired, hungry, and all around miserable. “If I ever see her again-”

He stopped talking and sighed. If he saw her again, he didn’t have the faintest idea where to find witches and wizards. For all he knew she could use magic and disappear in an instant, reappearing wherever she wanted. Buggy rubbed his hands together before holding them out to the flame once more. It felt warm but he wished it was hotter. He wanted to warm up before thinking about a nap because he was exhausted. He was wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him because he was certain the flame in the fireplace was looking at him. No, no, fires didn’t have faces.

“That’s quite a curse.” The flame commented as it seemed to lean forward on the fresh log Buggy placed. “You look horrible.”

“I feel horrible.” Buggy groaned as he closed his eyes, leaning back into his chair. “I need a nap.”

“Y’know, you helped me by giving me a fresh log, maybe I could help you.” The flame chuckled. Buggy opened his eyes and looked at the flame with a frown. Wait, he wasn’t actually asleep yet. He pinched his arm, wondering if he was dreaming, and he pinched himself too hard because he hissed in pain.

The flame was talking to him; conversing rather, looking smug for a little flame burning through a log. Buggy could only stare, wondering if he was about to be cursed again. The flame held a little tendril of fire out to Buggy, a smug look still on its fiery little face.

“How about it, do we have a deal?”

Buggy could only scream in response.

#buggy the clown #shore x buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #nonbinary oc #nonbinary reader #buggy the clown au

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Hi!

Sorry English is not my native language, I will make mistakes.

First. I love your lyrics! they are amazing!! I am ready to kiss your amazing diligent hands (of course with your consent) Your texts make me smile stupidly and giggle softly like a schoolgirl who was invited by the most enviable person from the whole school to an event.

So, I'm here because of that post with Howl's Walking Castle.

Good, good. Vil is the Witch of the Wasteland.

Then……Rook Hunt……… Is this Howl? (Not Jack)

Blond? Yes Short hair with a square and straight bangs? Yes. A charming wizard? YEAS

Perhaps in the past, the paths of Vil and Rook diverged because of the views on the world and goals in life that have changed over time. But they warmly remembered their friendship and their small events.

Now I can't get rid of the story that the Rook is a Howl. He am very upset that Suleiman has taken away the magic Power from his dearest friend - Vil. With whom they once studied together with the aforementioned sorceress.

And now this crazy woman is hunting for all the sorcerers, wizards, magicians to sentence to eternal work for a stupid king and endless wars?

No.

He won't stand for it. But what can he do now that his magic power has become so unstable because of the curse?

He almost loses himself.

****

Rook - aka Howl. He was so fascinated by the ignorant owner of the hats turned into an old man. Come to his endlessly walking castle - to avoid the oath. With a strong request that they need a job. And the castle passed by their town very "in time", and they could well take up cleaning in the castle.

Speaking of cleaning….

Rook looks around with embarrassment at its castle overgrown with dust and cobwebs. With a bunch of different stuff and "loot" from his secret hunt. Oh, what a shame. He is so embarrassed that his house looks so inhospitable to others.

Since that day, Rook has noticed significant improvements in its castle. Cleanliness replaced all the garbage and dirt. The ashes no longer scatter all over the living room, unpleasantly tickling the nose. Everything is tidy, shining with gloss, as if delivered just from the store. Products no longer spoil due to the fact that they forgot to remove or cook. While the owner himself is running around outside the castle on his own business… The clothes smell pleasantly of powder and salty air from the shore of sapphire lake. Maybe a pinch of pollen from flower meadows. How much energy is contained in this "cursed old man"?! ****

Forgive me for my invention, but what if the Damned Hat Seller has a very strong magician friend from another country?

Wil is horrified looking at the letter with the coat of arms which he swore that he had seen only Suliman on very rare documents, one or two no more.

-Where… is it from…a letter?

-Oh, it's that statue guy! So, my letter with the address reached him!! - The cursed owner of hats looks with affection at a black raven with a green short ribbon on its paw holding a rather weighty letter.

Vil and Rook look at each other in complete confusion, uttering the unvoiced question "What's going on?!"

-Who?

-Ah… well…Tsunotaro? I was talking about him. This guy was cursed into a stone statue. The poor guy can only move by jumping…..He was very kind to me. When… well….I had to leave my city.

Briefly quieting down and feeling extremely awkward and painful memories of the past, they change the subject.

-He helped me get to the hills. He made me a cane out of a prickly blackberry bush. He said there might be some magicians here who could give me a job. Due to the fact that they are often on the road, there is no one to look after their homes. And I can be hired for a pretty good fee, or just as an assistant…When we helped with his curse, he said that he was now in my debt for the rest of his life….Oh, he writes that he is very glad to know that I am doing well! And yes……I….um….I'm sorry, I asked about your situation…he said that this could easily solve the problem. There's some magical gibberish, I don't really understand it…

-Wait a minute……….. are you saying that you lifted the curse from that stone demon?!

-First of all, he is not a demon. And secondly, he was very polite…Unlike one person who just cursed me at the first meeting. . Third, he seems to be a prince? Now he is putting things in order in his country while he was away a lot of work has accumulated.

Vil rolls his eyes. The old record again.

-I told you I can only cast curses, not remove them. Who even thinks of such a thing?!

-Oooooh, really?And look what this has led you to, "Mr. crunches back is even worse than mine" is only worth turning your head.

-Oh, are you!!YOU!!YOU!!

Vil tries to throw a pillow at the wit from his seat.But it was a futile attempt. The damned owner atelier of the hats suddenly starts laughing merrily. And their curse weakens for a moment. They are young again. Their previously wrinkled cheeks are now decorated with a healthy bright blush. Their hair is no longer gray, their laughter is not hoarse and raspy, but sonorous and pleasant. It only lasts for a moment, and then time devours their body again for the curse.

Schoenheit wants to go back to the past and knock himself out of the past so as not to curse this person…and enjoy this laughter and embarrassed giggling more.

Rook just smiles meekly - Ah, it seems that help will come to us from where we did not expect it at all. Isn't that wonderful~

****

Oh, yeah….

I think Epel is Markle. The guy who works instead of Rook while he wanders somewhere outside the castle. And sells potions and herbs for the townspeople in their shops. He gives the money to his family in one of the villages.

Epel at the sight of Vil - ARE YOU CRAZY, IT'S THE WITCH OF THE WASTELAND?!

Vil leaning on the hands of the Cursed MC to sit down on the sofa, because there was no trace of his previously imperious light, confident gait. - what a loud ill-mannered child..

-I know, but now this grandfather is not dangerous. Vill you put the kettle on, Epel? I'll cook dinner.

-Grandfather?!Excuse me???How dare you address me like that?!I am a great magician and wizard!!No one even dared to cast an unwanted glance at me for a split second!!

-Yeah-yeah, calm down…are you going to eat porridge?

-I hate you…

-Well, you don't have much choice. Or you stay here and you don't have enough problems. Or you get up on your own and leave here on your own two feet since you don't like it here. - The damned MC snorts, taking out an apron and groceries to cook dinner. Easily and confidently soaring in the kitchen to cook everything on time.

-Damn it…..I cursed you to be an elderly man, a crumbling, decrepit crone…and you have more energy than 10 young men and women combined…I don't understand where you got it from…

-Oh, look, he's already started grumbling like a grandfather~

-IT WAS WORTH TURNING YOU INTO A PUMPKIN AND PUREING YOU AND FEEDING YOU TO GEESE!!

Epel covering the ears - MC….why did you bring this angry, loud old man into our house?..

The damned Mc only giggles merrily, covering his smile with his palm, watching the exchange of these two. Suddenly a thought strikes them.

-Oh shit…..I should have asked the Hunter's permission…it's not my house…

I'm sorry it was too long.ahaha..

I can't believe I never considered using Rook as Howl. My guys have the same blonde bob and everything.

But yes! I'm glad I can drag more people into this Howl AU hell with me

#Asks #Howl's Moving Castle AU

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ssruis · 24 days

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I think a ruikasa/wxs howls moving castle au has potential but only if you like. Make a huge mess of the plot. Just really fuck it up. Replace the story/role of several characters with something completely different that you made up.

- Tsukasa gets cursed for kind of being an asshole (to a witch that came into the restaurant he runs w saki. As is his right as a service worker.) (he still does theatre in this au) w something that slowly turns his heart to stone and in a canon typical tsukasa way goes “I am going to solve this problem on my own through sheer stubbornness/determination”, leaves a note for saki like “brb nothings wrong don’t worry about it :)” and goes to hunt down the wizard’s weird fucking castle sighted roaming the nearby wilderness everyone is freaked out about

- emu replaces turnip head but she got turned into a talking bunny with very few of her memories because it’s cute and I refuse to make an au where she can’t talk for 99% of the story. Tsukasa frees her from a tangled up net and she follows him bc she can’t figure out how to break her own curse so she might as well follow this goofy guy and see if the wizard can help her too

- nene as calcifer & rui as howl, nene (a witch) was cursed to die 300 yrs ago after freezing while performing for a (more powerful and significantly more cruel) witch -> rui prevented her death by figuring out a way to give her his own life force/soul/heart/whatever at the cost of her existing as a soul without a body, she keeps him alive through giving him her magic. Hard to explain. Whatever. Fullmetal alchemist vibes? We’re going on a quest to get your body back nene. They’re both functionally immortal but if one dies so does the other. She exists as a flame that operates the castle (nenerobo reference…)

- rui has been attempting to hunt down a way to reverse the curse while also fucking with the government that began cracking down harshly on magic usage after the beloved princess went missing with the evidence pointing to a witch or wizard as the culprit. Idk. Potentially pulling in soul eater inspiration with a war against witches… as a treat… rui interfering on both sides of the fight

- mfw I just wanted to do silly shows with my silly robots and now I’ve been alive for 300 years making zero progress on breaking a curse but at least I can use magic now (rui) vs mfw I messed up one thing and now I don’t have a body and I’m forced to watch my friend run himself into the ground trying to fix what should never have been his problem (nene). Canon typical nene guilt complex/rui giving nene a way to get around her issue that doesn’t help her grow. You understand.

- the kidnapped princess is emu she just forgot

- tsukasa catches up to the castle and enters it (bitch you live like this dot png) and emu discovers nene and drags her into a conversation. They discuss the curses and nene’s basically like (internally) ykw we’ve made no progress on our own maybe if we look into the curses you guys are under we’ll figure out our own on the way. (Externally) maybe having an idiot around will give rui some ideas. In return you can clean this place.

- emunene will be in this au what do u take me for. Emu entertains nene and helps her grow more confident, nene helps emu sort through her memories and more negative emotions.

- the flying over the town scene does happen (rui saves tsukasa (before tsukasa gets cursed) from a bunch of weird creatures created by the witch who later curses him) so when rui gets home and walks into the convo btwn emu/nene/tsukasa it’s essentially

Tsukasa: YOU!???

Rui: hello nice to see you again :) now please leave

Nene: I already hired him as a house keeper

Rui: but we don’t need a house keeper?

Nene: rui those dishes have been in the sink for a month

- plot happens I’m not rewatching hmc to figure this out (lying. I’ll probably do it even if I don’t do anything with this au)

- the cure for the curse for all of them essentially requires personal growth which is why I think making miku a witch that cursed all of them to inspire this/put in motion the events that would lead to them meeting is a funny idea. Not one I’m going to go with but it’s funny.

- the effect of the curse on rui was like… draining him of his passion for shows/inventing and his emotions which tsukasa helps bring back, and rui makes tsukasa realize why he loves theatre so much

- maybe tsukasa actually gets cursed by being egotistical like I will outshine everyone I’m the greatest world future star lalala (is cursed because the witch finds his lack of humility deeply grating and/or is insulted by the implication that this random guy is superior to her) oh shit

- leaning towards the witch being meiko just for funsies although kaito is also not a bad choice.

- drawback of rui using magic as someone who is not meant to be using magic is that the more magic he uses the more he’s turned into a weird bird cat beast (& the transformation back becomes harder and harder)

- one issue I have with a 1:1 hmc au is that like… rui and howl only share surface level similarities. If I wanted howl level dramatics in my story tsukasa would have to be howl which would require significantly more fucking around with the plot because rui would NOT do what Sophie did. Howl can be tsukasa but rui cannot be Sophie. Do u understand. Emunene has potential but unfortunately ruikasa fits the howl/sophie dynamic best. You know? You know. Tsukasa would get cursed and go on a quest and be perfectly fine cleaning the house of a guy who leaves food stains on the counter & never cleans them up if it meant he could lift the curse. I think if rui “canonically hates cleaning” kamishiro had to clean an atrociously messy house (disregarding the fact that tsukasa would not live like that) he would die.

- but rui also would not turn into a pile of slime because his hair got fucked up. That’s a tsukasa thing. Gestures at the card story where tsukasa is Pissed rui fucked up his hair with an explosion. I’m sure somewhere in the au over the course of canon typical rui fucking w tsukasa with his experiments I’ll work in a joke about that.

- I think in general the issue with a 1:1 au is you have to erase too much of the characters you’re inserting into the world to make things happen which is boring. U gotta change stuff. Unfortunately this leads to taking inspiration from like 4 different sources to make things work which is a huge pain in the ass and requires actual planning to create a coherent plot

- together wxs can make this moving castle a moving home :) just kidding they can’t all live together. tsukasa has to go home to saki and emu has to let her family know she’s ok. Also the lifting of the curse gives nene her body and her magic back/gives rui his life force back so 1) they’re no longer immortal 2) rui can no longer use magic (he’s fine w this he basically just used it to make truly impossible mechanical feats happen which he can figure out how to do without magic) 3) this results in the castle falling apart

- rui just moves in with tsukasa and works as a mechanic and nene moves to a nice calm cabin that emu essentially lives in when she isn’t needed to do princess stuff. They probably form a theatre troupe that eventually picks up as well & nene and rui can collab on a new moving castle to travel around if they do desire.

- why is this so scattered you may be asking. It’s because I had given this like 2 hours of thought at 2am before typing this out the next evening and had several more ideas as I typed. Firm believer that good ideas only arrive when you are sleep deprived and have given very little thought to what you’re laying out.

- I want an au that is shorter than the other aus I have so if I elect to actually write something I’ll have an easier time -> oh this is kinda getting out of hand -> god fucking damnit I did it again. Truly incapable of not making an au that has like 30 different plot threads.

#lalala (me in the carnage of better stories i massacred for an au)#the hideous frankensteined hmc + fmab/se/etc au that I did not need to make #listen it makes sense in my head.#mine #my writing #tbh I think if I do actually write anything it’ll be the wd/ohe au this one is barely planned #tsukasa #rui

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toa-kirhan · 2 years

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First time watching ToH S1E6 (Hooty’s Moving Hassle). Thoughts below:

Detailed thoughts:

I don’t have as much to say about this episode, but it was good! I’m not a big fan of ‘liar revealed’ plotlines, so I’m glad everything worked out nicely. It was also sweet to see Willow and Gus standup for Luz after what she did for them, just like back in Hexside.

I also appreciate how even this early on, the show has a lot of continuity, with each episode building on top of previous ones. For example, the B plot w/ Eda revolves around her curse and elixir dependency which was first brought up in E4 and referenced again in E6.

We also find out a lot more about Amity in this episode, mainly through background details, though the reveal that Willow used to be friends w/ Amity is big too.

The fact that “Amity’s House” is Blight Manor, and the fact that Amity is the only one out of the three main characters attending Hexside is more or less confirmation that Amity was born into a high-standing in the Boiling Isles and explains a lot about her upbringing and world views. Amity isn’t just trying to get into the EC, she feels like she needs to because that’s what’s expected of her.

To Amity, magical prowess is directly equated to a person’s social standing, which is why she stops being friends w/ Willow after her powers came in first. The world is divided between the talented, who work as hard as they can in order to join the EC, and the talentless, who can only try to be as powerful as them. It’s also another reason why being humiliated by Luz and Willow stings so much for her. Either way I’m getting strong Malfoy vibes.

Side note, but is Amity actually friends w/ the girls in her clique? We see her w/ them and she invites them to her Moonlight Conjuring, but we haven’t seen her actually talk w/ them. Are they powerful or high-standing witches too?

On the topic of Willow, I still have a couple of questions about her and her background. Her parents wanted her to take the abomination track because it has better opportunities, despite her lack of skill for it. Do her parents know that she’s been switched over to the plant track? Are they okay with that? Also, did her family know Amity’s? Willow’s skill w/ plant magic was impressive enough that she was spared for cheating in her abomination class. Is Willow also from another high-standing or magically potent family? Is there a Malfoy vs Weasley dynamic going on here?

I also waiting to see when we get a Gus focused episode. We know that Gus specializes in illusion magic and he admits that he’s not the strongest witch. Since he’s head of the Human Appreciation Society, I’m guessing there might be an episode where he disguises himself as one.

One last thing, the ending hints that Luz, Willow, and Gus are collectively powerful witches, and that animating an entire house (even if it is also a demon?) is unusual enough for most citizens to take notice. Given the emphasis on “controlled magic”, I assume that’s because its illegal.

General thoughts:

Hexas Hold’em looks like an auto-battler, but apparently you can also play spells mid-combat that seems to heavily swing the game.

We get to Owlbert in Owl form for a full scene again!

So did Eda get cursed into an owl demon and just made that aesthetic, or did she just so happen to get an owl-based curse? Did whoever curse her see that she had an owl house with an owl staff that creates giant wooden owl heads?

I need to watch Howl’s Moving Castle at some point. Maybe after I finish reading Nausicaä.

What’s the functional difference between potions and elixirs? Why can’t Eda brew her own elixirs but Morton can? Is the difference the only reason why Eda and Morton aren’t rivals?

Is multiple eyeballs just a stock monster archetype? I haven’t seen any of them else eat their own eyes.

Nose girl :c

What’s the deal with demon hunters? Do they only hunt rogue or illegal demons? There are a lot of buildings in Bonesburough that seem like they’re also part-demon. Do they only go after Hooty since he’s outside the city limits? Are demon hunters also criminals or are they sanctioned by the Emperor?

Penstagram? As in pensive + Instagram?

Amity needs to get a better handle. Witchchick128 is not very descriptive considering the number of other witch chicks in this world (at least 127 others!)

Gus is digging a tunnel under Hexside? What’s a squamping permit?

I hope we get to see more of the night market. That seems like a setting that has lots of potential.

Skull moon!

Hooty is a big boy house c:

Why nobody listen to Hooty :c

“Gus, my man!”

So why does the house get animated instead of Beefy Bob? The fact that the demon hunters go after Hooty seems to establish he’s a demon. Is Hooty a demonic figurine?

Crow phone! Also Amity’s three-eyed mean girl friend has a name: Bosha.

“#humanscanbiteit”. Okay maybe Amity didn’t learn anything from last time.

Cute chibi artstyle when they’re shown on the branch!

Respect to Gus!

Nobody understands Tom the child cliff tosser.

I wonder if we’ll ever see Tibbles again.

Tin3Noz and 4EyedPride. We’re getting closer to actual names!

#toh #toh season 1 #toh s1 #the owl house #media analysis

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mcrcki · 6 months

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Was that [JESSIE MEI LI]? Oh no no, that was just [SOPHE HATTER-PENDRAGON], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE]. They are [TWENTY FIVE] years old, use [SHE/THEY], and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

how long has your character been here

just over two years !!

what is your character’s job

sophie owns and runs a flower shop. not so much selling arrangements, but more over a like, bulk shop for flowers? and some bouquets, but mostly like, you go in, there’s just buckets of flowers of different kinds for sale. they keep a small section of hats and some of the tailoring business because it gives them something to do in the slow hours, and they do really love sewing. their clothes do something have a tendency to become enchanted if she talks to them too much. (and they are known to just run their mouth. like she will just go off rambling and talking and just enchants things without meaning to. they may have gotten better at controlling their magic, sure, but they still can’t help themselves with the muttering. talking to herself like this calms them when they’re V Stressed. which is often considering their life.)

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom

sophie is pulled from the end of the entire series, aka the end of house of many ways. they remember everything that happened in the first book/movie, from the mess with the djinns, all the way to getting morgan safely away from the lubbockin. they’re pretty stressed, considering everything that happened during the past two halloweens, and just everything that has happened to their family in the last few years back home. they’d like to just ! have a break ! thanks sm !

has any magic affected your character

it had but! she’s good, she’s cool, the magic has worn off and they fully remember everything! not that they’re very happy about how they originally forgot and all of that, but they are relieved to finally remember their family and all that happened during her time in high norland. so now, they’re back and better than ever!!

any other information

okay so i’m going to link my previous intro / update posts here so that you can see a bit more of their vibe and who they are, since i am going to use most of this updated intro to explain what’s new and where they are at now that they are fully updated to the end of the series!! but pls understand that i love sophie hatter with every part of my soul and i would do anything for her. that’s the most important thing to know. oh and there’s no doubt in my mind that sophie is autistic which i will fight tooth and nail about howl and sophie being the adhd / autistic relationship dynamic

first and foremost, sophie will be using she/they pronouns. she doesn’t have a preference on one or the other fully, so she uses both. but right now it’s more so that strangers she prefers they, and people she knows/she is more comfortable with can use she/her.

before sophie died during the gala, the last thing they remembered from home was the ending of the first book/movie. they had helped defeat the witch of the waste, howl and calcifer’s curse had been broken and their heart restored, and sophie’s own curse was broken. since then, within the city, howl had remembered what happened in the year since that day, up until their son, morgan, was born. morgan is here in the city, living with howl at the moment.

sophie has had mixed feelings about it originally, considering they do not remember what happened when she and morgan were turned into cats, the issues that happened with the djinns, etc. it’s been stressful to say the least, to raise a toddler who expects you to understand everything he needs when you don’t even remember having children, or being married. she’s glad he is safe, but she’s still working on the whole mothering aspect of this.

now , with her memories restored however, they’re definitely less worried about the whole concept of raising a child. they remember morgan, remember him at this age and know how to handle some of his tantrums a little better. of course, having to manage a toddler who can conjure things on a whim is !!! not easy !!!! but she figures with all of their family here, as well as a better understand of her own powers, they should be fine.

sophie is now also the high witch of ingary, a position appointed to them both off of being married to howl but also from their own merit with how powerful they have become as a witch. does this mean that they are not as frequently accidentally speaking spells into existence? yes. does it mean that they have stopped doing it completely? no not at all. i cannot even lie, the talking to herself has got to be a stim or something because they do it no matter what, and unfortunately, their magic is rooted in speaking things to life, so no matter how good she gets, that will always be there. they wouldn’t be sophie if they didn’t just accidentally enchant things every once in a while.

okay but a quick overview of what happens in house of many ways (although everyone should go read the whole series, esp the first book, it’s incredible. the second book is DATED but the third saves it) ANYWAYS. sophie is called to high norland, a neighboring kingdom, to help with solving some money problems the king and princess are having, she goes ON HER OWN THANK YOU, because they were called, they can handle it on their own, and they very much were looking forward to the week or two of silence and relaxation away from the castle. they love their son and their family, but god do they need the space every once in a while. unfortunately, howl.. is howl. and soon after sophie arrives in the castle, in comes morgan, calcifer and twinkle (the picture perfect image of a child….. with a lisp.) charmain – the main character of this book– is so fucking confused as to why sophie looks like she is about to throttle twinkle the second he comes waltzing into the room.

either way, the whole moving castle crew is now inside of the castle to solve the missing money situation! many things happen,,, all of it absolutely chaotic in the way only dwj can really explain. so imma just skip to the end of what is really going to be affecting sophie here in the city

morgan is threatened by some anonymous source, telling sophie specifically “stop your investigation, and leave high norland, or your child suffers” so ofc sophie and howl are on high alert, doing what they can to trick whoever sent the note and save morgan along with finish the investigation.

many more shenanigans take place, the person who attacked sophie’s child ended up being a half human child of a lubbock (a monster in this realm that LAYS EGGS INSIDE OF PEOPLE TO HAVE HALF HUMAN CHILDREN TO TAKE OVER KINGDOMS– AWFUL) but they screw up, and try to take twinkle instead, thinking that’s sophie’s child. eventually they can’t quite keep twinkle under control , and they go for morgan.

sophie’s reaction is incredible, the only reason she didn’t take this guy out at the knees is because it’s a young ya novel. and howl had a plan.

bUT. the lubbockin basically almost kills morgan (fully choking this two year old out to a point where he does pass out in his hand) but before he can fully kill him, howl teleports himself into morgan’s spot, and like mid choke hold, transforms back into a like grown adult man and just DECKS the guy, it’s incredible. sometimes you forget they are a rugby player from wales when they’re all wizard-y in their blue silk suits and shit. but he fully beats the lubbockin down until calcifer and him turn all the remaining lubbockins into rabbits lmao

either way, sophie is going to be pulled post fight there, when they all arrive back into the castle to make the journey back to ingary. their memories only go up until the castle door closes, so they’re gonna be having a time with this reunion on top of having to apologize a million different times to howl for everything over the past few months.

they will not be taking responsibility for morgan knowing how to swear in two languages, that was unaware sophie, how were they supposed to know it was their kid.

either way, this is gonna be v much the same sophie we all know and love, except they’re a little older and little more confident in themselves.

CONNECTIONS :

✩ employees

she runs a flower shop, that does sell some clothing/hats on the side but it is mainly a bulk flower shop that will make arrangements for an extra fee.

it’s a very like ‘small business’ vibe kinda shop, so they treat their employees like family it’s a very nice place to work!!!

you would be stuck dealing with the most insane group of ppl with sophie, xie lian, and xiao lanhua (and the baggage they bring)

✩ friends

please she doesn’t have many ,, her best friends are literally a disaster man, her kids, a fucking fire, and two disaster immortals, please come be their friend she would be the mom friend of your group and you cannot change my mind

would also actually love some legitimate mom friends

magical friends! please they’re so bad at controlling their magic, they just speak everything into existence.

✩ babysitter/ nanny

doesn’t everyone wanna make a little extra cash?? especially when that charge would be a magical four year old with separation anxiety who definitely uses magic and speaks in welsh !!!

i promise they tip well

sophie would love a singular break for once so pls

their husband may never trust you but like that's a howl problem i promise sophie will pay you better as an apology

#hw: intro #so. intro #updating my intros a little bit #made these graphics forever ago and decided fuck it we're committing to them

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pleasantanathema · 4 years

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The Witcher’s Woes

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: bruising/marking, rough sex, dirty talk, light degradation, mentions of blood/injuries, very mild angst, porn with plot

Word Count: 10k

A/N: This is a collab piece for the Pleasant & Strider Present: Fantasy AU Writing Collab hosted by myself, @present-mel, and @linestrider

You can find all the other wonderfully creative and smutty pieces on our masterlist!

P.S.: This is a long one, if you feel like only reading smut, feel free to jump down to the second line break and begin there.

_____________________________________________________________

A Witcher: someone who has undergone extensive training, ruthless mental and physical conditioning, and mysterious rituals, which take place within Witcher schools such as the Wolf, Cat, and Griffin in their respective hidden Kaers, or home castles, in preparation for becoming an itinerant monster slayer for hire. (source: fandom.com).

The storms were raging on the coast, salty waves crashing into the shore like heavy hands attempting to crawl out of the sea, only to get dragged back into the abyss. The winds were howling, lightning crashing, yet the storm was the last thing on your mind as you opened the door to your lowly estate.

Ushijima of Velhad still had his arm raised from where he knocked on the wood, his yellow eyes glowing against the darkness of night. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him, his chestnut hair tousled, lines of rain water dripping down his nose, his cheeks pallid. Even still, The Witcher looked to be a living memory, no new wrinkles or scars that you could detect when the rumbling flashes lit the sky. If it wasn’t for the rain, he would’ve looked entirely the same since you last saw him years ago, smiling in the evening glow of the countryside before departing for a new journey.

You ushered him in quickly, silently, your instincts for hospitality taking over before you could begin to think of questioning him about his sudden arrival. His armor was damp, heavy, sloshing and clinking as he undid the leather and meteorite laced straps from his shoulders. He was breathing slowly, deliberately. You rushed to grab towels from a chest, blanketing him in warmth as he sat before your rolling fireplace. He uttered a quiet thanks, never one to use words out of place.

The tea you had been brewing above the fire began to boil. You quickly poured two cups, adding a dash of the alcoholic white gull to his and using a burst of fire magic between your palms to keep the cup warm. You settled into the chair beside him, noticing how his gaze leered into the sparking fireplace.

“Ushijima,” you finally called him, after time had passed and his hair began to dry, “are you hurt? Is that why you’re here?”

He grunted from beside you, moving the hand you noticed had been clutching his rib cage.

“Yes, but not badly. I needed refuge from the storm more-so than a potion.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

He was quiet for a moment, perhaps pondering if he should simplify the truth.

“A sorceress, even in hiding, is never hard to find. The townsfolk talk, you know. I knew you were nearby before even beginning my hunt.”

“You could have asked for more than the tea I gave you, you know I’m here to help.”

He leaned back in the chair, his thick, long legs spreading out before the fire, his socks still damp and clinging to his toes, a big cat uncurling his weary limbs.

“It would have been rude to barge in begging for assistance.”

Ah, yes. He was still as courteous as always, his Griffin School teaching still ingrained in his mannerisms. Most Witchers were not so polite, but that school in particular valued traditional teachings. You knew you’d have to indulge his small conversation before getting more answers from him; he always played the chivalrous game, after all.

“Tell me, what brings you to the shores of Blaviken? Last I saw of you, you were riding north, returning to what is left of Kaer Seren.”

“There is nothing left,” he sighed, both arms now resting on the chair, the last remnants of tea staining his cup, “everything was destroyed, save a few books I found amongst the rubble.”

“What a shame, that library was a marvel. I would’ve liked to visit it myself.”

The story of the destruction of Kaer Seren was only well known to those acquainted with the last remaining Witchers. The keep was tucked away amidst the edge of the sea and the snowy mountains of Kovir to the north. The Witchers of that school, all of Ushijima’s kin, were well acquainted with magic and kept a vast library of mystic tomes within their home. But they were secretive, protective of their knowledge. Witchers, men created by magic to become the monsters they killed, were guarded for good reason. Years of persecution had left their numbers in ruin.

A group of mages felt scorned by the Witchers’ refusal to share their wealth and toppled the castle of Kaer Seren in an avalanche, leaving bodies and crumpled books in the wake, all never to be used again. You could almost picture the blood and ink that stained the snowy graves.

You’d only heard this story from the mouth of Ushijima himself, one night after too many scuffles and too many drinks.

“I brought some for you,” he smiled then, warm and soft, full lips on display, “that’s the real reason I’m here.”

His eyes were especially luminous in the firelight, gold irises reflecting the flames like the most precious of coins. His cheeks were flushed now, color regaining across his skin. Freckles smattered his cheeks like dried blood; you had to hold yourself back from reaching to him, from caressing his skin to see if the marks were lost war paint or new stories etched into his skin. He was tanned from all his time spent meditating in the sun, truly a unique specimen to behold. It was rare to see someone so brutal be so beautiful.

You were excited at his words, your fingers digging into the grooves of your cup at the mention of magical books awaiting you to peruse them.

He could see the eagerness behind your eyes and he laughed, then coughed, but continued his soft chuckling again. You paused, realizing he must be in more pain than he was letting on. His arm had returned to his torso, the thickly corded muscle clutching and protecting whatever injury was lying beneath.

“They’re in my bag by your door, you should go look at—.”

“Ushi, you’re hurt. Let me take care of you.”

Before becoming friends with the valiant hunter, you would’ve leapt at the opportunity to read hidden knowledge. But years of acquaintance with the hardened man had your heart tugging in another direction; suddenly, Ushijima was becoming more important than all your years of study and practice in sorcery.

He had a habit of breaking everything he touched: monsters, glass cups, weapons, he had a very powerful grip, and perhaps you were just the next thing in line to come undone by his hands.

You stood from your place by the fire, strolling over to a cabinet where you kept all the alchemy ingredients you had collected from your years living alone here by the sea. Many travelers had come by, having heard of the witch by the shore, bringing elements and components to sell at a high price. And you had taken them all, emptying your purse at even the faintest glimpse of a rare material peeking from their bag. You loved your craft, you had perfected it, almost, and every day you spent toiling away finding new ways to create potions and expand your magical knowledge.

“I need to know what you were hunting earlier.” Your fingers began rustling within the crowded shelves, grabbing an empty bottle as you heard him sigh behind you.

“A Hym,” he said softly, “it scratched my side, it’s deep, but not fatal.”

You stilled, eyes darting across all your ingredients. He said the word so easily, so nonchalantly, like he didn’t just battle a demon.

“A slice from Hym’s ethereal claws drains the life force from their victim, the longer that wound sits untreated, the worse you will get.” You mentally cursed at him, blaming his chivalrous nature for hurting him for longer than he deserved to be in pain. If he had said something when he came in your front door, you could have had him on the mend already.

“I know that, but a small potion to get me through most of the pain until now.”

“You’ll need more than that. You’re lucky, I just went to town last week and managed to find vitriol. I can make you a superior swallow drink, just…stay still.”

Quiet mumbles tumbled from your lips as you worked: measurements, ingredients, small musings as you set aside all the components to begin assembling them upon your alchemy table. Plants like white myrtle, celandine, crow’s eye fell into the bottle of enhanced swallow you already had on hand; you added fruit, nothing too exotic, just the common berbercane, and finally the blue tinted vitriol powder.

You eyed the hunter as you mixed the potion, swirling the now red liquid within the high neck of the bottle, speeding up the mixing process with a little magic of your own. Only he would have such insouciance concerning a fight with such a wicked creature. He was talented, perhaps not as much as the more legendary Witchers that roamed the lands, but Ushijima was strong, sturdy, nimble and smart when in battle. His stoic nature allowed him to distance himself from the horrors of his life, a life you knew he had not chosen.

He was an orphan, brought up by the Griffin School and transformed into a monster hunter without much consent, though you knew he had none to give. But he wore his profession like a badge of honor, looking at his life through a lens of helping those who could not help themselves in a world infested with demons, ghouls, and humanoid monstrosities.

You’d always wanted to admit how admirable you found him, but you knew he was never one to take compliments.

Standing next to where he was patiently sitting, you offered him the small bottle, the glass precariously dangling in your fingers.

“Take this,” you pulled the flask away just slightly as he reached for it, “but only after you tell me what the hell you were doing fighting a Hym.”

“You said it yourself, I get worse every moment I don’t drink that.”

“You’ve lasted an hour, Ushi,” you chided, “I think you can take a few moments to tell me why there was a Hym near Blaviken.”

You sat the bottle back on the table, moving to stand behind him and press the towel around his shoulders a little tighter into his neck. He gave you a contented sigh, eyes closing. He never liked to talk about his work, but you always pressed him. You lived in this monstrous world as well, had killed a few drowners while walking along the sands, aided an earl with a botchling, once even made friends with a rather tempting succubus. Everyone in this world was plagued by wretched creatures, he was just more qualified to kill them with his training and silver swords.

Your fingers pressed into the soft cloth around his neck, picking up the fabric and using it to brush against his hair and continue drying the damp spots still lingering around his ears, the back of his neck. You normally weren’t so blatant with your affection for him, but you knew you had him as a captive audience within the chair. He’d have to tell you his story before earning what he desired, but you might as well humor him with soothing touches while he did.

“Hyms are nasty things, you know. Demons that feed off the guilt of others.” He began.

“I found a note from a daughter in distress about her father on a notice board not too far down the road. He was going mad, she wrote, she thought perhaps he had become possessed. I did some searching in their house, found love letters tucked away under the old man’s mattress addressed to his sister-in-law. He wanted her, he loved her, so he killed his own brother to have her. But then she threw herself into the sea from her own grief; I think the Hym could’ve gotten to her first, then transfixed itself onto the man.”

“Hm, the things we do for love.” You mused, hands coming to rest on his shoulders once again.

Somehow, he felt stronger, broader than the last time you’d touched him. You sunk your fingers into the sinews on display in his damp shirt, humming to yourself. You’d thought about this before, about having the strengthened hunter sit vulnerably before you, only your thoughts involved the two of you in much less clothing and talking of much less rotten things.

You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering the sketches you’d seen of Hyms in bestiaries. They were murky, shadowy beings, devilish horns upon their faceless heads, long black claws dripping from their hands. You would have cowered at the sight of such a creature, yet Ushijima sought out to destroy it.

His gruff voice continued on, “I confronted the man, called out the Hym, and it began to attack. Its claws are long, it scratched me from the very beginning. But it’s gone now, perhaps banished to the dark realm from whence it came.”

You plucked the bottle from its resting place, handing it to Ushijima over his shoulder. He took it with a simple thanks, head tipping back as he drank the entirety of its contents. You watched almost gleefully at his thick, irresistible neck on display. Everything about him was so strong, so well kept, even as he sat before you dampened from a storm.

“You know, Ushi, I could listen to you talk like that for hours.”

“Oh yeah? Then maybe I’ll stick around for a bit this time, let you listen to all my seedy tales.”

“Mhm, they’re only seedy when that bard friend of yours is around. Is he still alive? Tendō, that is.”

A flash of red hair and a catlike smile flashed before your mind’s eye as you thought of the dangerous, yet comical bard who often clung to the Witcher’s side.

Ushijima laughed, clutching at his stomach as you circled his chair and came to stand before him, arms crossed delicately in front of your body. Your figure cast a silhouette across his own, making you seem larger than life in the firelight. He was enraptured in the inky vice of your shadow.

“Yes, somehow he is still alive. Last I heard of him, he’s off singing songs in the capital of Redania to some rich heiress.”

“Good to hear,” you shrugged, “I always liked him.”

“No, he always liked you.” He wiggled his eyebrows, the action sending you into a fit of giggles as well. “And I can’t blame him.”

Your laughter subsided at his words, a warm tingle spreading across your body. Normally Ushijima was not one to flirt without the aid of alcohol; perhaps you’d given him more than you thought in his tea earlier? You watched him relax in his seat, lifting his shirt to reveal a quickly fading wound upon his tawny skin, the old blood sinking back into the muscle where it belonged.

Thunder rumbled outside the walls, a heavy boom resounding from the gods above.

“You should bathe, Ushi.”

“What, do I smell?”

He was suddenly so playful, so charming, his grin making you feel flustered.

“You will soon, I’m sure. Go beyond those doors,” you pointed over your shoulder, “It’s a heated pool, one of the reasons I chose this god forsaken estate.”

“Will you join me?”

You took a pause. This man was always making you pause, making you step back and evaluate your words and actions around him. Surely, he was joking. But the gleam in his bright eyes told you a different story, there was more lingering behind his words that you did not yet understand.

“I will, but only after I take a peek at those books you brought me. Now, off with you.”

You brushed by him as he stood, arms stretching above his head, his body shifting as he evaluated the healing wound upon his flesh. His heavy boots clunked against the floorboards as he followed your command, the sound of an enhanced predator marking his path. He slid through the door at the back of the great room and left you alone once more.

You would’ve been ashamed if he saw how quickly you rushed to his bag, gathering the cold, dusty books in your arms before setting them gently on the table. They were relics, ancient, undoubtedly hiding secret runes and magic within their spines.

Your fingertips brushed over the titles of the four books he brought you, but despite being entranced by the knowledge lying in wait for you, you were imagining your fingers to be elsewhere. You flipped one book open, your nails following the lines of ink, but your mind took in no words you read.

You were somewhere else; you were mentally with Ushijima, your fingers back in his hair, your hands exploring places unknown to you on his skin. He was the well-guarded book you desired to read, to hold, to explore.

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Ushijima was astounded by your bath. He knelt to the stones on the ground, using his keen senses to feel the heated rocks and look for their source. There were some offshore vents that were connected to this place, feeding in warm water to the bath. He took in a deep breath, smelling the lingering hint of salt in the air, but the scent didn’t entirely match the ocean.

He dipped his fingers in the water, finding it smooth, warm, unsalted. You must have put magic in place to filter all the sediment from the pipes. You always were clever, even in the smallest of ways. Your wit was something he admired about you.

He took his time undressing, his ears perked as he heard you rustling paper in the other room. He had felt embarrassed at first about being so sentimental towards you; he had known from the beginning of his journey that any tomes he found would be placed into your care for you to enjoy. He’d read them, of course, the journey from Kovir and Poviss still a long one to the border of Redania where you lived. As he divulged himself in the ancient knowledge of his Witcher school, he always pictured you reading the same words he did; he felt your presence nestling into his skin, enveloping him like a magic spell. He liked to imagine how you’d react to the pages, how many notes you would scribble down from certain intriguing sections.

Ushijima thought about you more than he cared to admit.

Naked, he stepped into the bath, his screaming muscles finally silenced under the hot press of water against his body. The bathing pool had a ledge around its border, and he took a seat at the back, arms spreading out like heavy wings along the rocky edge. He sat where he could watch the door; it was instinct, he told himself, to always be aware of his surroundings, but he knew he was just waiting to glimpse your figure appear before him.

Some nights, when preparing his tent under the stars, he would think of the first time he met you. He had traveled with Tendō to some opulent gathering in Toussaint, one filled with wine and vampires he knew were hidden amongst the crowds, but any thought he had of a hunt had vanished when he saw you. You were delightful, enchanting, eye-catching amongst the throngs of people. It didn’t take long for his friend to seek you out, to gain your friendship, and Ushijima watched patiently from the sidelines, watched how you held yourself with such poise and dignity. But all the while, he was aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to know you.

You had become his guilty pleasure over the years, a fantasy he envisioned as he lay alone at night. Even when he was meditating, he was hard-pressed to not find himself seeing your skin behind his eyes, imagining how your body would feel within his hands. The hands of a killer, a fiend, hands that crushed whatever he held all too easily. But you, you were so powerful, so seemingly untouchable, and he found himself unworthy to behold you. He was just another creature, a man turned monster, someone wholly undeserving of a divine sorceress.

He huffed to himself, a shy smile pulling at his cheeks as he thought of your words from earlier.

“The things we do for love.” He repeated the words to himself, sinking a little deeper into the water.

He didn’t have to wait long for you to enter. He was unexpectedly aware of his nakedness as you entered, fully clothed still in your corset and trousers. He felt heat rising to his cheeks, spreading down across his belly, at the prospect of watching you change; it would be impolite to ogle you. He turned his gaze instead to the water, watching how the surface lapped at his skin as he shifted his weight.

“Are you comfortable?” You called out to him from across the room. He could hear your clothing shuffling, hear the laces coming undone one by one from your body. The room felt quiet, the air smothering. He’d felt so bold earlier, but now he felt almost ashamed that he had asked you to join him.

“Ushiwaka,” you implored with a little more strain to your voice, “don’t tell me you’ve gone shy on me.”

His gaze shifted up for only a moment, catching a glimpse of your naked back as you peered over your shoulder at him, your hands ready to pull down your breeches and become fully naked. He couldn’t help himself, he gawked at your beauty, tracing every curve, line, and dip across your splendidly sculpted skin. You looked more beautiful than any constellation he pointed out with his finger in the night sky. He unabashedly gazed at the planes of your shoulders, the gentle slope of your spine. He imagined taking his time to map the uncharted waters of your body, of discovering every hidden cosmos tucked away within your curves.

“Yes,” he cleared his throat, “I think I’ve become even more comfortable at the sight of you.”

He held his breath for a moment, waiting for your reaction. Upon seeing you smile and turn your face away, he sighed, sinking deeper into the pool, arms barely keeping him afloat from where they rested on the edge.

He heard splashing as you waded into the water, submerging yourself up to your neck before you came to sit just a few feet away from him. From here, he could study you more closely, see the elegant slope of your neck into your shoulder. He was pleased to note that he could still make out the form of your breasts in the water, the lovely globes just barely dipping out of sight.

“I must say, even in the given circumstances, you’re still a sight for sore eyes.” He always loved how silky your voice was, always melodious to his ears. He always worried he’d forget how it sounded, but your timbre matched the tone he had been playing in his head since he last saw you.

“I haven’t heard the name Ushiwaka in a long time,” he confessed, “it’s always Witcher now, or Ushijima of Velhad since that’s where I did most of my work.”

“Well, you lost that name—Wakatoshi—a long time ago when you were picked up by the Witchers, but I know it is sentimental to you still. If you prefer, I can just call you Ushijima.”

“You know I don’t mind it.” He felt like he said the words too quickly.

“Hm, well, I’ll call you anything you let me, Ushiwaka.”

A shiver hit his body at your words, he was keen enough to know there was innuendo laced behind them.

______________________________________________________________

You closed your eyes, head leaning back against the warm stone as you allowed the steamy water to wash away the grime of the day. You moved your hands over your body, feeling the sticky sweat melt away. You reached for a small towel, tossing one in Ushijima’s direction and watching how he caught it so effortlessly, like a cat swatting at a shadow on the wall. He received a small bar of lavender soap with the same ease, his nose wrinkling at the flowery scent.

You both took a moment to wash, you humming an old tune, Ushijima remaining silent aside from the sloshing of water made from his heavy limbs beneath the surface.

You’d never been in such an intimate space with him before. A bath is time of solace and cleansing, but also one of exposure and susceptibility. Water intentionally brings forth feelings of intimacy and ambivalence. You knew he was there, watching, his heightened senses attuned to every sound, smell, every minimal movement around him. You couldn’t take his silence any longer.

“I—,” you began quietly, “can I ask you something?”

His movements ceased, those radiant eyes now focusing entirely on you. You instantly felt heat spread across your chest, climbing up and darkening your ears with blush. You wondered for a moment if he could see through you, in you, see how fast your heart was pounding blood through all your veins. His intense stare made you feel like he was closer, his deadly hand wrapped acutely around your heart, aiding it as it struggled to beat harder, faster.

“Of course.” His words were direct, poignant, the deep vibrations almost tingling the water itself.

“When you were facing that Hym, at any moment, did you fear it would sense your grief?”

You could tell he was taken aback by your words. He placed the wet cloth to his chest, his long fingers digging into the fabric as he pondered what you said.

Once again, he wasn’t sure if he should simplify the truth. He mulled over your question, let the words seep into his consciousness as he looked up to the ceiling. He should’ve known you were astute enough to see through him.

“Yes,” he stated, “I did.”

He didn’t wish to elaborate any further, but he could tell his curt response didn’t satisfy your internal reasonings.

“I see.” You noted somberly.

“How did you know?”

He watched you slink farther under the water, searching for cover, searching for a way not to express your thoughts. He noticed how your legs crossed beneath the surface, the light from the hanging candles glittering through the water.

“I know you didn’t choose this path, didn’t choose to be a Witcher. That was forced upon you; you were lucky you even survived the Trial of Grasses that made you into what you are—.”

“A monster.” He interjected flatly.

“You’re not…” you sighed, dipping your head into your wet hand, “you’re no monstrosity, Ushi, not even a miscreation.”

He tensed at your words, catching how you regarded him with a solemn look.

“I didn’t choose a life of sorcery, you know. I was torn away from society when I was a girl, taught to use my source of magic to heal wounds, but also how to kill someone in an instant. People…powerful people used me to their advantage. It’s why I stay hidden now, I’m running from my past misdeeds. I know what it is like to have regrets; to grieve.”

He only nodded in understanding, afraid of using the wrong affirmations.

A heavy silence fell between you once again. You plucked the soap from its resting place behind you, thoughts tumbling through your mind like the waves crashing at the shore outside. So many words were desperate to leave your mouth, to be birthed and said and made into reality between you, but you dared not.

If anyone understood the weightiness, the hidden meaning behind silence, it was Ushijima.

But even he couldn’t bear it much longer. He grunted, running his wet hands over his face as he contemplated his next move.

“Well, tell me this. What would you be if not a sorceress?”

“Hm? Oh, I’ve never thought about it before. I’ve just…always accepted my fate.”

“I’d have been a sportsman,” he declared, a slight uplift in his voice.

“Oh really?” He watched as a grin pulled at your cheeks, the heaviness of the conversation before dissipating. “And what sports are you good at, Ushiwaka?”

“Anything with a ball,” he shrugged, “some kids down south play games with poorly strung nets, and they do their best to keep the ball from hitting the ground as they toss it back and forth. I think I’d be quite decent at it; I am agile, after all.”

“Powerful, too.” You remarked.

“You think so?” He teased.

He eyed you carefully as you set the cloth and soap aside.

You began to move... towards him. His eyes narrowed, his hands mimicking your actions and setting his bathing instruments to the side, freeing his hands.

You were ethereal in the water, gentle waves lapping at your skin, the ebb and flow of it shimmering around your body.

“Now that I think about it, I know what I would at least be proficient as if not a sorceress.”

The smirk that tugged at your lips intrigued him. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out for you, taking your arms and pulling you towards his chest.

“And that is?”

Time stopped for a moment as you settled yourself into his lap, the sound of your breathing, the feeling of skin upon skin, touch upon touch, the only increments of time needed.

His body was so hot, so willing to accept yours upon it.

“I’d be a wonderful whore.”

Golden eyes flickered up to you, lashes low, his lips parted.

“Care to show me?”

Your skin was cold to his warm touch, his hot breath fanning across your cheeks. He was so close, so eager, you could feel hardness begin to form between where your thighs cradled his.

Your hands slid across his shoulders, feeling the grooves and puckers of scars pass under your touch. You settled your grasp onto his neck, steadying yourself above him. His hands played against your skin under the water, the heavy fingers finding your hips and sinking into the smooth flesh he found. You gasped aloud at the feeling; his grip was strong, iron-clad, daring to leave marks behind. You wanted to break under his touch, collapse against his chest and allow the water to pull you both under into euphoria, but you secured your inner desires. Your back straightened, your fingers clawing into his thick skin.

“Ushiwaka,” you whispered it like a humble prayer, your lips brushing his, “kiss me.”

He groaned, pulling you a little closer, spreading your thighs a little wider.

“Why don’t you kiss me, little temptress? Show me how much you want me.”

You felt bewitched, wondering for a moment if he had placed you under a mind control spell with his words. Your thoughts were jumbled, but they were still yours: kiss him, touch him, read the hidden words on his inky pages like you had long desired.

Your lips met his tenderly, hesitantly, tasting the salt of water and sweat against his awaiting mouth. He breathed through his nose like he was exhaling life into you. He moved his mouth against yours, testing you, pushing at you, and effortlessly you gave in. Your eyes were closed, but you felt like you could still see him, felt like you knew every step in the dance he was leading you in. It felt so natural, so smooth, and you found yourself clinging to him with every press of his lips against yours.

Then his mouth fell open; an invitation. You followed him, sliding your tongue in, finding his own past his teeth. He felt like true sin, his tongue tempting yours to reveal its secrets to him. It was slow, methodical, a mutual exploration of tastes and pleasures you had both long craved to discover.

Your chest fell to his, your breasts meeting the hard planes of muscle found there. You moaned, the sound of water moving igniting your hunger as one of his hands meandered up your back, fingers lapsing into your soft muscles. He offered you a groan, and you took it desperately, hastening your kiss and plunging you both deeper into one another. One of your hands wandered from his neck, slipping down his chest, pressing him back against the edge of the pool. Your nails pulled at his flesh, wanting, needing, unknowing how to gain purchase against such solid muscle.

He tasted like tea leaves: earnest, alluring, but also like the earth, like something natural and primal. It was a taste that was familiar, enticing, and every time he took a moment to breathe, you found yourself diving back in for another taste, another glimpse of what lay hidden beyond his lips.

“Mhm,” he moaned as he finally pulled away, chest rising and falling, “perhaps I’ll mold you into my own personal whore.”

“I’d like that, Ushiwaka.”

The blood within his veins rushed to his cock at the sound of his name, of that personal name, falling from your sweet voice. Fuck, he would give anything to have you, but it seemed that he didn’t have to. He could feel by the way you clung to him, by the way you kissed him with such fervor, that you desired him all the same. It was thrilling to know you wanted him, and he wondered how far he could take you.

His hand glided away from your back, circling around to your chest. He cupped one of your breasts in his hands, holding back a groan as he felt the weight of it within his palm. He watched how the water lapped at your skin, the ripples from his movement brushing against a hardening nipple. The small sound of delight that left your lips had him refocusing his gaze to your face. You wore a sly smile, your own hand upon his neck tightening in anticipation of his next move.

“I’m a dark man, my love. Hardened.”

He was toying with you, but his words offered some truth. Ushijima had been envisioning you like this for far too long; there many devious things he wanted to do to your body.

You leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss to his ear, your voice low, “hardened indeed…I can feel you between my thighs.”

He smirked at your words, taking your nipple between his fingers and listening to you gasp as he gave it a simple tug. Your teeth found his ear in response, nipping tenderly.

His eyes fluttered at the feeling; a groan caught in his throat. He wondered if you could sense it. You pulled back slightly, angling your head to give him another kiss. He accepted it gladly, tongue ready to find yours again.

“You can be an obedient little whore, can’t you?” He rumbled against your lips; his words being lost inside your mouth.

You ate the words like you were starved, a hot moan swallowing them down as you felt a shock of pleasure race down your spine. He grunted at your action, the hand upon your breast squeezing in response.

“Yes,” you said softly, as he allowed you to escape his kiss, “where did all your chivalry go, Ushiwaka?”

He smirked as you teased him, his lips dipping to your neck, tongue tracing the lingering water droplets that fell down your skin.

“It’s waiting between your legs.”

It was a growl, the sound of a predator marking his prey, the sound of a man holding back his lusts.

You sucked in a breath, eyes closing as you dipped your head back and allowed him more access to the length of your throat. The hand at your breast squeezed harder, his thumb and forefinger rolling languidly across your straining nipple. You felt like you were lost at sea, the weight of the water around your bodies feeling heavier as Ushijima pulled you into his tides. He was the moon, pushing you, pulling you; he always has been. For so long he kept you at arm’s length, toying with you, teasing you, bringing you so close to him but never close enough. But tonight, the moon was waning, his control faltering as he finally gave in and allowed himself to fall into the calling sea.

He held you back on his thighs, but you could feel the heat radiating from his body below the surface. One of your hands trailed down his chest as he sucked dark red marks into the junction of your shoulder and neck, staining your skin with colors from his own making. He bit your skin especially rough when your wandering fingers found the hard lines of his stomach.

You were tentative, taking a moment to feel if his wound was finally gone from the magic bestowed upon him. You could only feel scars underneath your palm, though one felt particularly puckered and new. But his stomach wasn’t your goal, it was what was straining against it.

He cursed into your skin when you wrapped your hand around his cock, fingers pumping against the silken skin within the water. His lips fell lower, his eyes closing as he littered open-mouth kisses against your chest, now using both hands to cup your breasts and bring a nipple within his mouth. You moaned loudly, a rush of ecstasy coursing through your veins. He pulled you forward, forcing your hand away from his cock. Instead, he shifted to where his cock was nestled between your pussy and his stomach, allowing just enough friction to keep you wanting.

He needed to keep his head clear if he was going to please you in all the ways he had dreamt of. He was going to taste you, tease you, earn the right to claim your body as his own.

“Ushi—,” you went to whine, but a calloused pinch to your nipple ripped his name away from your mouth.

“Be quiet.” He demanded against your breast, teeth lightly tugging at your hardened bud.

You only gasped in response, hands smoothing across his broad shoulders as he worked his way to your other breast, hands needy, mouth exceptionally hot. Your hips pressed down and you felt the length of his thick cock against your aching pussy. You experimentally slid yourself against him, desperate to feel more touch against your most sensitive flesh, against the place that had wanted him for so long.

His hands moved to your hips to still you, his vice-like grip returning.

His mouth left your breast, his chin tilting up to look at you. Those glowing eyes were dark, ravenous; perhaps there was something monstrous sleeping inside of him, ready to awaken.

“Stop tempting me. You’ll regret it.”

His reflexes snapped as your lips parted to speak. Two thick fingers slid onto your tongue, pressing it down, the taste of water and leather swirling in your mouth. His taste was a mixture of his worn gloves and the floral soap he’d cleansed himself with. You groaned, head tilting back as you let him have his way, your mouth suctioning around his fingers for some kind of relief.

He eyed you carefully, watching the sinews in your neck come on display for him. Bruising marks of his design were blooming on your skin, little fragments of memories coming to life before his eyes. Your mouth felt like sin and he could already imagine how it would feel to have his cock sliding against the supple lips wrapped around his fingers.

Ushijima twisted your nipple again, a little harder, a little tighter, feeling pleased with himself as he heard and felt the grumble of a groan against his skin. A small drip of saliva trickled down your chin and he used his thumb to smear it into your cheek.

He could’ve held you like this for all eternity, had you pressed against his cock, his fingers padded against your tongue, your beautiful breasts on display as he groped one, watching the flesh mold into his hand. He had you subdued, compliant, a wondrous creature caught in a dangerous trap. He could do anything he wanted to you right here and now, and the realization had his cock twitching against your cunt.

For his own enjoyment, he was going to mark you, leave something behind on the picturesque pallet of your body.

You would never be allowed to forget him, as he knew this vision of you would forever live inside his mind.

He took his time, each bite and suck carefully and meticulously placed. Ushiwaka was never one to use his mouth without purpose, whether it be for his words, or his kisses. Your shoulders, your chest, your breasts, nothing was forgotten, and you felt like you had been sitting on his lap for eons. Each time his mouth curled into your flesh, his hair tickling you, you felt hotter, more alive than before. You pressed down harder against him, searching for some kind of release to the pleasure he was building inside of you. But he had you pinned, a strong arm encircled your back and kept you exactly where he wanted you.

When he sucked your nipple back into his mouth, you cried out against his fingers, your tongue darting between the digits as you sucked a quick breath in through your nose. He paid you no mind, his own tongue licking meticulously at your nipple, up and down, slow and steady. The bliss that erupted from your breast was almost mind-numbing. Your thighs clenched around his, your head lolling back even farther than before. You needed more, you were desperate to feel that talented mouth back on yours, to feel his fat cock slip inside you were you needed it.

Finally, he released you, his mouth leaving your breast as he slipped his fingers from your mouth. You took a moment to catch your breath. He splashed his drool covered fingers in the water, bringing the wet digits back to your face to wipe you clean, his thumb tracing your lips with care.

“See what being quiet gets you?”

You nodded your head in agreement, your nails finally releasing his shoulders where they had been clawing into his skin.

“I need you,” your arms wrapped around his neck, your mouth finding his in a tender kiss, “please, Ushiwaka.”

“You beg so prettily, my love. Perhaps I should have you beg a little more.”

“No! Fuck, please…” you entangled yourself around him, legs curling around his toned waist, your face nestling into his shoulder. You brushed the skin found there with your mouth, hungrily moaning against him. You were frantic; you had already waited for him for so long, thought about him for too many nights, too many years.

His strong arms enveloped your back and he lifted you easily from the water. You adhered yourself to his body, ready to have your muscles clench around him to assist, but he needed no such help. Your weight was effortless to him.

Ushijima used the ledge of the pool as a step, faultlessly exiting the pool like a nautical divinity coming to soft shores. He was cautious as he laid your wet body upon the heated stone, careful not to crush you under his weight. He watched your eyes alight as you took in the sight of him out of the water, now hovering above you. Your gentle fingers traced over his biceps, his shoulders, his chest, finding the constellations of scars upon his skin, his own physical galaxy for you to explore.

He took your face in his hand as one of his muscled thighs spread your legs. You were entranced in his gaze, finding yourself lost in the molten amber of his eyes as his pupils danced across your face. He was taking in every bit of you that he could, burning this vision of you below him into his memory. You were flushed, lips parted, slightly swollen from his ardent kisses. Your delicate hands moved to rest beside your head, palms facing him, submissive.

“Please,” your voice broke him from his trance, “don’t make me wait any longer.”

He nodded in response, eyes tracing down across your body. He relished having you before him like this, back arching towards him, breasts falling, your hips shifting against his legs. The hand on your face trailed away, making a path down your torso, fingers swirling against the lost dewy droplets against your skin. And then he finally peered down farther, having to steel himself from groaning as he found your awaiting pussy.

Your skin was prickling from the cool air meeting it, gooseflesh creeping up your legs, down your arms. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you watched him, waiting for him. You could practically see the thoughts racing through his mind, though you wished you could know them. What was he thinking? Was he hesitant?

Your own contemplations vanished when his warm, wet fingers spread your pussy, two fingers deftly sinking along the sides of your lower lips. You moaned, eyes fluttering closed, heat pooling within your belly. He took his time exploring you; he was a man of patience, after all.

You could feel his weight shift back as he sat on his knees, spreading your legs across his thighs. He curled one leg back for him, opening you up more for his viewing pleasure. His finger slowly traced up the center of your cunt, finding your sticky wetness coating the digit as it carefully curled against your clit. You let out a quick gasp, hips twitching, and he repeated the motion, watching you slowly come apart from the simplest of touches.

His other hand found his cock, fisting it as he played with you. You could hear the slick pumping of his hand against himself, and you moved your weight upon your elbows to sit up and watch him. Even on his knees, Ushijima of Velhad was intimidating, all broad shoulders and heavily corded muscle across his body. You admired how his arm flexed as he stroked himself, how his toned stomach was clenching with need. Your mouth fell open as you glimpsed his thick cock within his palm. It fit so perfectly in his big hand, throbbing, thick veins calling out to be inside of you.

You wanted to beg for him again, but your words were lost when one of his fingers slid inside of you, stretching your walls to fit around him. You dropped back against the warm stone, mouth falling open.

“So tight,” he said it like a fact, like he expected it, “you’ll feel so good stuffed with my cock.”

You bit into your lip in a whimper as he curled the digit inside of you, pumping it once, twice, with agonizing slowness. But soon, he added a second finger, the thick digits spreading you, testing you. His pace was calculated, fingers pleasurably systematic. You moaned at every twist and plunge, hips arching off the floor to meet his pace. His thumb began to circle your clit and you swore that stars overtook your vision, bursting in the corners of your eyes as you tried to focus on the ecstasy churning deep within your stomach. His long fingers were stroking your velvety walls just perfectly, each plunge feeling deeper and deeper than before, fanning the flames beneath your skin even hotter.

“Ushi, please…”

“Please what, my love? Tell me.”

He was particularly cruel, electing to rub your clit faster, harder, making your words choke in your throat. You cried out, feeling the orgasmic coil begin to tighten in your belly. You were already so strung out for his love, for his touch, and you knew your little death was just around the corner.

“Make me cum, p-please!”

You felt his heavy body come back to yours, the hand on his cock ceasing its movements and instead finding your hand beside your head. His strong fingers wrapped around your flesh, curling into your forearm, thumb tactfully pinning down your wrist to the stones below.

He repositioned the hand between your thighs, now using the palm of his hand to press against your aching clit. His fingers found the soft patch of flesh inside of you, petting against it skillfully, like he already knew exactly what you needed, knew exactly what made you fall apart to his immoral hands.

His face dipped to yours, causing your eyes to flicker open to find his adoring gaze above you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your lips, muffling your moans as your legs began to press against his forearm, thighs begging for the release he could bring you. His mouth matched the rhythm of his fingers within you, his body in harmony with your own, pulling you tightly like the strings on a well-played lute. You were so ready to snap, so ready to sing songs of praise up into him, but all too soon his mouth and his hand left your body.

He could read the bewilderment on your face, feel you try to press back against him, but he held you down easily with the weight he forced onto your wrist.

“I want to feel you come undone on my cock,” he whispered against your lips, “are you ready?”

His hand, now slick from your pussy, pushed your thighs apart wider, curled your legs back farther, his own thighs pressing into your soft flesh. You felt his cockhead brush between your dripping folds.

“Yes! Take me, for the love of all things hol—!”

His hips slammed into yours, his throbbing cock filling you, stretching, pressing you far beyond what you expected. He hushed your cry with his mouth, his hand cupping your thigh and urging your body to move with him as he began to thrust within you. Your hand that he pinned to the floor fisted in on itself, your nails threatening to break your own skin as your mind struggled to catch up with your pleasure. You were so full, so fucking full, so overwhelmed by him.

His dewy, tawny skin felt so sinful against yours, the lingering moisture on your bodies bleeding into one another. His hips were strong, fast, each plunge of his cock going deep, deep, deep into your awaiting depths, finally uncovering every hidden place on your body to have as his own. You gasped and moaned into his mouth, and his sighs melded with yours, his kiss desperate, lips crashing into yours with more fervor than the storm that raged outside.

You felt so utterly lost, yet so wholly encompassed by him, by his earthy scent, by the weight of his body against yours. Your breasts slid against his chest, nipples pebbling as they brushed against his downy hair. Your back was skating against the warm stones below, the pressure against the hard surface enough to make you ache, but it paled in comparison to the jolts of pure pleasure that resounded through your body with every thrust of his massive cock inside of you.

“More,” you pleaded softly, lips peppering him with ardent kisses, “more, more, more.”

You felt him place more pressure on your trapped wrist and you gasped, worried for a split moment that your bones would splinter under his power. But he was cautious, moving your arm gently to rest above your head. The hand on your thigh crept up your body, stopping for only an instant to grope at your bouncing breast. But his fingers quickly moved on, skimming up your other arm, palm smoothing against your dampened skin. He soon found your wrist, now using both his mighty arms to pin your own above your head, leaving you entirely at his mercy.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

His words were a dare, a wicked promise.

At the nodding of your head, he smirked, lips coming to your ear.

“Tell me to stop if it becomes too much, you promise?”

His thrusts had never faltered, the air in your lungs still hot from all your heavy breaths. You closed your eyes again, finding your voice.

“I promise.”

The primal sound that left his chest startled you; you could feel the rumbling spread across your body like aftershocks of an earthquake. His hands around your wrists tightened, arms tensing. He shifted forwards, pushing your hips up, legs wider.

And then he began to pound mercilessly into your body. You screamed, the high-pitched shrill echoing within the room, rebounding off the walls, soaking into his naked skin. Every fantasy he ever had of you suddenly came alive inside his mind, burning like a roaring fire, making his vision go blind as he pounded himself inside of you. You were so warm, so god damn tight, your pussy sucking him in with every unbridled thrust that he felt like he would break open from all the euphoria that was crackling within him.

He called out your name, over, and over, and over again, reminding himself who he was with, who he finally had coming undone below him. He was still holding back, too afraid of breaking you, but even still his hips moved faster, harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing in his ears like the constant moans and praises that feel from your mouth.

“Ushi, fuck, fuck, yes!”

He was being cruel, he knew it, slamming into you like this, making your body bow into the floor, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel that coil that was tightening inside of you earlier come to fruition on his cock, he needed to spill his seed inside of you.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel what was happening to you. All your focus was upon his cock stretching your pussy, filling you so perfectly that you knew you’d never want to feel another again. It was like you were made for him; all your limits were being pushed at once. Your wrists ached within his grip, surely bruising under such an immense hold, but you felt secure, safe underneath his power.

Your knees were bent to their threshold of flexibility, your ass now well above the floor as he curled you to fit him. His cock was so deep, his thrusts now remaining almost entirely inside of you, pounding away at your insides like a man gone mad. You were at the borders of your composure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, eyes watering, mouth open, body stinging, longing, begging for him, “g-gonna, gonna, cum!”

“That’s right,” he murmured, tongue daring to skim the shell of your ear, “cum on my cock, baby, cum for me.”

Your nails finally pierced the flesh of your palms as you came completely undone around him, orgasm bursting forth and blooming around you in euphoria. All your senses came crashing down, every small detail becoming more alive and ever present than ever before. It was all so much, the pleasure pooling in your belly and spreading across your body faster than lightning that raced across the sky. His hot breath was against your neck, your legs aching, blood dripping down your palms, water still cooling against your skin, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. You could hear every sound: your screams ringing against the stone, his grunts into your hair, the wet suck of your pussy around his cock, even the still water resting in the pool.

Your body was wrecked with tremors as he continued his ruthless assault, sweat beading at the nape of his neck. Your orgasm drenched his cock with thick, wet slick, encouraging him to drive a little harder, push a little deeper. He heard little pained gasps from your mouth, but he warned you he was corrupt, told you to stop him, yet you were taking him so fucking well, so fucking perfect like he knew you would. He was so close, so painfully close, his cock throbbing, his rigorous pace becoming unsettled as he felt your sweet thighs wrap around him.

Then there it was, the sound of your voice, the sound of his goddess calling to him.

“I want your cum, n-need it, please, fill me up, make me yours.”

He finally crashed, your words like the irresistible call of a siren. Hot cum filled your tight pussy, his cock thumping deep inside your womb. You felt like you could breathe again, his inhuman strength finally laxing upon your ruined body.

His mouth found yours again, his lips tender and now so familiar and welcoming. The tension in your body washed away, his loving hands tracing over your body as he allowed your legs to finally rest. Your heart was hammering in your chest; you could feel every beat inside your rib cage as you finally calmed down, mind returning, body waking up from its lust.

Ushijima slid himself from inside of you, leaving your body with a groan of satisfaction. He watched his cum pool between your thighs, pearl white and stark against the stones. He looked up at you, all of you, admiring your spent body below him. He watched how your breasts heaved with breaths, how your eyes were blinking mindlessly up at the ceiling as you came down from your high.

But then he recognized the bruises on your arms, the bites on your chest, the indentions of the stone upon your sides, the bloody nail prints in your open palms. He cursed himself, cursed his monstrous hands—he knew he was never meant to hold you, that he was unworthy.

“I hurt you.”

His simple words brought you back to reality.

You sat up then, stretching your body as you came face-to-face with him once more.

“Oh please.” You chided, a smile forming on your face as you cast a simple spell within your torn hands. He eyed you curiously as the blue tinge of magic twisted within your palms, your small wounds closing, even the marks upon your chest healing to a more reasonable color. They were still there, the small reminders he created, but they would fade on their own in a few days.

You took his face in your hands, thumbs caressing his handsome cheeks.

“No more grief, Ushiwaka. Please, for me?”

He only drew you closer in response, cradling you in his arms.

A few words of thanks came forth from his mouth, but you paid them little mind, too caught up in his embrace. You remained entangled in one another for a moment longer, both at ease in the company of each other’s breaths, your heart beats, the feeling of fingers skimming over skin.

“Stay with me awhile?” You questioned softly into his chest.

“Did you think I was going to leave after that?”

“You always leave, you know, at some point.”

“Not this time, my love. I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

You both felt the pull then, the same tug that you had both longed to feel for so long.

You were at home.

Ushijima pulled you to your feet, wordlessly leading you to get dressed and follow him back into your great room. You saw the books still open on your desk, forlorn and nearly forgotten.

He settled back into the chair after stoking the fire in your pit, bringing the flames back to life. He stretched out, yawned, and appeared wholly comfortable there, magnificent arms crossed upon his chest.

You could get used to seeing him there, and you knew little by little, he’d allow you to read his pages, too.

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Note: I don’t own anything from Haikyuu or the Witcher Universe.

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kimistorm · 3 years

Text

My Heart Gone Missing [Chapter 4]

Fandom: Studio Ghibli (Howl’s Moving Castle)

Pairing: Friendship! Howl x GN! Reader

Warnings: None

Masterlist

“Marius I’m going out!” you called out to the water demon in the corner of the room, “do you need anything?” slung easily around your shoulder was a simple backpack, a clear sign that you were going to get something, considering how empty it was.

“Where’s ‘out’?” Marius asked forlornly.

You sighed at Marius’ depressing aura, “I’m going to town to get food. Now is there something you need?”

“I need you to take your soul back and free me from this curse.” Marius replied.

You sighed and adjusted the bag, “anything serious?”

“Why do you-”

“Okay bye Marius!” you didn’t bother to listen to the rest of his sentence before you flung open the door and left your house into town. You walked around the town and looked at the food stalls and thought about what you could make. “Well, I could always get some chinese take out.” You laughed quietly to yourself before you picked up a bright red tomato.

You quickly finished your shopping and began to wander around the town that your portal had led to. As you wandered around the town, you noticed a quaint looking shop nestled in the wall, “huh. ‘The Great Wizard Jenkins’.” You read aloud the painted words above the door. “Well, may as well check it out.” You gave a few knocks on the weathered wood door.

“Hello, how can I help you.” The door swung open and you had to look down to notice the small bearded man.

“Oh.” You carefully looked at the hooded man, “you’re not Jenkins, are you?” you said slowly.

“Why? What do you need?” he asked gruffly.

“Uh, nothing.” You slowly backed away from the building and the stunted man, “I can see you’re busy. So, bye.” You waved before you hurried down the street. “Why on earth was a little kid pretending to be an old man?” you talked to yourself. “Unless he really is Jenkins.” You shook your head, “no, that doesn’t make sense, he’s just a kid, who has a strong sense of magic already.” You muttered quietly. “Agh!” you screamed out suddenly, attracting the attention of some innocent passerbys, “why does nothing ever make sense around here!” you then proceeded to storm off to the small house that your portal resided in.

“Oh, you’re home.” Marius said when you closed the door behind you.

“How can a kid have such a strong sense of magic that he can create a disguise out of thin air?” you shoved your face into the water demon’s face as you demanded your question.

“Woah woah woah, I never said I was going to help you! You’re awful! Why would I help you!” Marius replied snarkily as he shrunk back in his bowl.

“Because you’re going to be living with me.” You answered sharply as you turned around and slammed your bag down onto the countertop in the kitchen.

“Oh, is somebody jealous that a child has a stronger sense of magic than you?” Marius teased as he looked excitedly at you.

“He definitely is not stronger than me.” You said vigorously as you placed food into the refrigerator with more force than necessary, “he just doesn’t go to the academy and yet he still can use magic!” you slammed the door shut for the refrigerator.

“Well, maybe he’s got an apprenticeship or something, that’s not too unusual.” Marius shrugged as he leaned back into his bowl. Any source of entertainment that you were providing to him was long gone.

“He probably did!” you yelled out excitedly as you slammed your hands down on the countertop. You then winced and took your hands off of the countertop. “He worked at the shop of ‘The Great Wizard Jenkins’! That explains so much!” you said excitedly. “And here I imagined ‘The Great Wizard Jenkins’ as an old man who disliked children and like loneliness.”

“Sounds like you.” Marius called out from the corner.

“Shall I give you a rock?” you threatened in return.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Rocks are terrible, horrible creatures who just want to see the world crash and burn!” Marius yelled back in a fury as he waved his fists around.

“Of course.” You rolled your eyes and threw your bag down on an empty chair before turning the dial to point at the second color. “I’m going out.”

“Again?” Marius whined, “shouldn’t you be figuring out how to get your soul content?”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

“Doesn’t seem that way.”

“I’m getting inspiration.” You explained, “not like you would know how to make people happy.”

“Of course I don’t! I’m a water demon! I’m only happy with myself! I don’t care about people!” Marius yelled furiously after you.

“Stop yelling, you’ll lose your voice someday.” You called back to him before you opened your door to exit the house. You shut the door behind you when you heard Marius shout angrily at you. Probably something along the lines of ‘you’re awful’.

Outside the small house the Waste blew around you peacefully. The lake where you had first met Marius was easily less than five minutes away by walking. The air blowing around you was crisp and cool. Not at all like what you would think of when you heard ‘waste’. It was clear like the countryside that was miles away from any sort of civilization. The sun was shining brightly, which cast a comfortable blanket of warmth on everything it touched. “Marius, I’m sure you’d love it out here!” you yelled back to the house to spite Marius.

You laughed happily as you ran through the rolling waves of grass and then fell back into it. “Perhaps this is all I wanted for.” You muttered to yourself as the grass around you gently tickled you. “I don’t think I ever had a chance to truly appreciate the Waste.” You set your gaze upwards and saw the small figure of something flying, and it wasn’t a battleship. “What is that?” you sat up in the grass and watched the black figure. Upon closer inspection you noticed that it was a bird...but with a man’s head. “That’s what I want.” You nodded to yourself as the figure flew above your. “I’ll turn into a bird.”

You stood up before you ran back into your little house. “Marius!” you called out.

“Did you get your inspiration?” Marius asked sullenly.

“Do you know how to turn into a bird?”

“A what?”

Taglist: @pogpixelz

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folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

Gold Rush (optional bias)

A/N: I honestly don’t know a lot about the middle ages, so if anyone is a history genius, pls bare with me if I write something that doesn’t make sense asfghjk PS: feedback is greatly appreciated!!

genre: optional bias (male), thief!au, strangers to enemies to lovers, medieval!au, suggestive content, reader is always ready to fight lmao, a tiny bit of angst

summary: As thieves, you both try to steal from the same royal carriage. Only it doesn’t go as planned for either of you. Will you get away before the king sentences you both to death?

words: 8.9 k

You had been tailing the royal carriages for an entire day now. You were sure your horse was getting exhausted, but the sun was setting and you knew what that meant. Soon, the transport would come to a halt. They would find a clearing somewhere, with trees as shelter from all sides. Then, they would set up their camp for the night, only to pack up everything in the morning and travel another two or three days, until they reached their destination: the castle. Only instead of delivering the full carriages, with gold, silver, pearls and gems, a few handfuls would be missing. It would be almost nothing to them, you suspected. They might not even notice it disappeared.

To you, however, it meant existing. You had to admit, being a thief hadn’t been your first choice when it came to choosing an occupation for the rest of your life. You had tried to integrate into different businesses. You were going to learn to be a baker, a glover and even tried to keep a job helping out on a farm. But none of these professions were for you. You were tired of being commanded around by men who tried to make you their little maid or worse – ask you for your hand in marriage. The judgement was tedious. “Aren’t you too old to be unwed?” “Where is your husband?” “How many children do you have?”

You wished you could talk back. “No, I’m just fine, he doesn’t exist and none – is it any of your business, by the way?” But you had learned that arguing with elders would only get you in trouble, and perhaps your decision to refrain from living the typical life was exactly what made it impossible for you to keep a job. That was, until you discovered your talent – a sleight of hand that was invincible. Some would call it avaricious; you would prefer to describe it as a passion. It wasn’t evil, just a thrill you enjoyed chasing. The beginnings had been humble. A few coins out of someone’s pocket here and there, some food from an unsuspecting marketer; you had to keep yourself afloat somehow, right?

But the seasons went by, and you became more audacious and greedier for your beloved adrenaline. Plus, you realized that stealing from the rich had something weirdly rewarding. Maybe it was the anger you felt at the king for hoarding the wealth of the land whilst letting his people starve in the streets. Either way, stealing from those who had power made you feel a sense of benevolence. You gave away some of your stolen goods to those who actually needed them, instead of letting all the money and jewelry rot away in someone’s bag and around someone’s neck. Sometimes you hid in the shadows after your theft had been settled, only to see the reactions of your victims. It might have sounded obsessive, but it gave you assurance, when they moved on after only minutes of complaint, because you knew those few coins were miniscule to all of them.

And currently, you were on to one of your most reckless thefts. You were well aware this could get you killed. Yet you couldn’t help it, the glimmer of the jewels and the gold was hypnotizing. Finally, the carriages had come to a halt. From a safe distance, you observed how they unloaded their tents and checked especially carefully where they kept the most desired goods. The wares would stay in the carriages, probably guarded all night long. You would need to wait for the right moment.

“Good job today, my dearest Dorato,” you whispered to your horse as you tied the reins to a tree. Gently, you pat his nose. He pushed his head closer to you, demanding more affection, but your eyes were already on your objective. For at least an hour you stood, hidden in the thicket, waiting for the sun to set completely and some of the men to lay to sleep. With a hawk’s gaze you counted the men and made sure you knew each of their whereabouts. One of the wagons stood with its back opening facing you – which was perfect. It was like they were presenting the goods to you on a silver plate. To the left of the wagon, some of the men had lit a bonfire and were seated around it. Judging by their laughter and lively conversations, you doubted they would go to sleep soon. One of them was sitting on the edge of the carriage, meant to guard the inside. He, who should have been paying the most attention, however, was fast asleep. And that was your chance.

“Wish me luck, Dorato,” you whispered to your horse, running your hand over his warm neck. Then, you slowly moved towards the carriage. Outside the shielding cover of the trees, you felt you needed to act quickly. The gales of laughter were helping against your vulnerability in reminding you that the men around the fire were trusting their sleeping guard to have everything under his control. Sly as a fox, you kept your distance and approached the opening of the wagon only when the bonfire was out of sight. You pulled the fabric to the side and with a swift jump, you landed on the edge of the carriage right next to the dozed off man. It only took one maneuver and you had opened the wooden chest nearest to you.

You grinned in triumph at the jackpot in front of you. With eyes sparkling just as much as the diamonds and gems, you grabbed handfuls and transported them into your bag.

“Henry, change of shift!” someone suddenly shouted. Their voice sounded scarily close to you, and then you heard footsteps approaching. Even though you had wanted to be greedier and steal some more, this was definitely your cue to get out of there. If they saw you inside the wagon, you’d be done for. So, without second thought, you yanked the cover away and leaped off the edge.

“Thief!” the surprised man howled as you passed him. Luckily, this wasn’t the first quick escape you had ever had to make. Your feet carried you rapidly, over the grass and into the trees where your horse stood. One quick pull and the reins had come off the tree trunk.

“Over there!” a hoarse man growled. Now more voices were heard, curses and angry shouts directed your way.

“Let’s go, boy,” you said and hauled yourself into the saddle. You pushed your legs against his belly, quickly signaled your horse the way and he knew the drill already. He took off sprinting, out of the forest cover. The wind in your face momentarily forced your eyes to tear up a little and you squinted against the cool night air. But just as you thought you were getting onto the gravel road, one of the guards jumped out in front of you. The fire from the torch he was holding danced aggressively in the wind. As he pointed it high, it was a blaze against the darkness of the night sky, and Dorato whinnied in terror. He jumped and reared up, and you lost balance.

“Seize her!” a man shouted at your disoriented figure on the ground. You wanted nothing more than to get back on your feet and flee. But it was no use. You were surrounded by a number of gravely livid men, and should you try anything stupid now, it would cost you your life, probably. Somebody grabbed your shoulders and pulled you up.

“Take the horse,” one of them ordered and your eyes widened. If they hurt your best friend it was the last thing they would do, you swore in silence. But to your dismay, as the men dragged you over to the wagon, they ripped your quiver and your bow from your back. You sat still as they tied your hands and feet and hurled you into the very wagon you had just stolen from.

“There you have your gemstones,” a guard spoke. “Look at them as much as you want, because soon you won’t be looking at anything anymore.”

Giving him a gaze so spiteful it should have hurt him physically, you spit right into his face. Lucky for you, he wasn’t up for a fight. It wasn’t on him to convict you for anything just yet. A complacent smile spread on your face as he walked away, wiping your saliva out of his eyes. At least now you had a guaranteed roof over your head for the night.

You were in slight trouble, you had to admit that. In two days, you would arrive at the castle. Depending on what the king decided, your punishment could be as severe as death. But until then, it would be a while. There was still plenty of time to escape, you assured yourself.

All night long, no matter how much you forced your eyes shut, you didn’t catch a minute of sleep. The men’s chatter was simply too loud and maybe you were concerned for your safety, after all – even if you would have never confessed it to someone other than yourself. The heavy chests of luxurious items sat across and next to you, as if they were mocking you for your foolish actions. For hours you sat staring at them, cursing your greed. Only in the morning, when the carriages continued their journey, the rocking of the wagon lulled you into a slumber.

You awoke later that day. Judging by the dim light falling into the carriage, it must have been the early evening. Curious, you scooted to the edge, lifted the fabric that was covering your sight and checked. Your assumptions had been right. The golden sunlight of the last hour of daytime shone into your face. The wagon you were in was the last of them, behind you only the bright gravel and trees left and right. For a while you daydreamed the boredom away. You went into another world, in which you didn’t have to steal to survive. In your real life, you were either born into luxury or you had to toil each day for the rest of your existence. There was no hard work that could have transported you out of your peasant-state and into something more carefree.

Suddenly, shouts ripped you right out of your dreamworld. The wagon had halted, but when you looked out the back, nothing was there. Trying to learn what the commotion was all about, you concentrated on the chaos of voices. Had they all gotten into an argument? The men were all talking at the same time, so there was really no use but to wait and see.

“You will be delighted to have some company until you receive your sentence from the king,” a man said. Footsteps drew nearer. Someone pulled away the fabric at the end of the wagon. Before you knew it, a figure was pushed inside. It was a young man but clearly not one of the guards, as he was dressed like a peasant. With a groan, he was bracing himself up across from you.

“Enjoying the ride?” the guard outside the wagon taunted you with a sneering grin. You spat in his face. Again.

“You little-“ he snarled.

“Let’s go! We can’t lose any more time!” someone yelled and unknowingly saved you from more trouble. The man disappeared and the carriages began to move again.

You welcomed the newest addition to your wagon by staring him down like he was about to take all the gold and diamonds clearly reserved for you. When he had sat up and checked his surroundings, he noticed your look.

“Is there a problem or something on my face?” he asked.

“Were you trying to steal from them?” you asked back. “Didn’t go as planned, did it?”

“Were you not?” he replied. “My highness, we’re in the same situation, so don’t you try to aggravate me out of tediousness.”

“Don’t you mock me, or you’ll receive the same response as the guard did,” you threatened. “And you are very wrong. You are going to be brought to the castle and thrown into a prison. I will escape.”

“Is that so?” he asked. “I see you’re making great progress with getting out of these ropes. You better hurry, or I’ll get away before you do. I can carry a lot in my pockets.”

You huffed.

“The diamonds are mine,” you stated, matter-of-fact.

“Whoever gets out first will have them,” he replied. “I’m betting on myself.”

“God…could you not have chosen a different day to steal from the royals?” you asked, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was your highness’ turn today,” he said, and his smile was taunting and cocky at the same time.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” you hissed, one second from collecting your saliva in your mouth.

“What do you prefer then?” he asked. His smirk made you wonder whether he was contemplating to suggest some more stupid pet names for you. He better not, you thought.

“I don’t know…what about my name?” you said. “It’s Y/N.”

“All right, Y/N,” he said. “And would you consider sitting on death row one of the more entertaining parts of your job? Are you used to it?”

If only looks could kill, he’d be torn to shreds.

“This is the first time I’ve ever been caught,” you said. “But judging by how lightly you’re taking this, you must spend more time in jail than outside of it.”

“What can I say? The guards love me,” he said. “But didn’t they teach you to be honest? I don’t believe you. Or maybe you were a coward for so long and this is your first time actually trying to steal. What’s the truth, sweetheart?”

There was nothing you despised like people who underestimated you. And with that, you spat in his face and turned away from him. Know-it-alls weren’t going to be granted a second of your attention.

“Hey, talk to me,” he said. “We’ll be here for another while, so we might as well become friends.”

“Missed your chance,” you said. And it was the last thing you said to him for a long time. Even when he tried so hard to lure you back into a conversation. You knew if you gave in, he’d never learn.

“My name is H/N, by the way. Oh, that’s right. You don’t care. I forgot,” he said. And he was right.

Having to rot away by yourself in the back of a carriage was already exhilarating enough. But rotting away in the back of a carriage while an irritating young man filled your head with stupid stories you could care less about? It made hell sound inviting. Even when the guards had set up their camp for the night, he occasionally tried to get you back into conversation. Because you had slept throughout the day, you knew you’d be awake until the early morning hours, a fact that only made your situation more unbearable.

Your ears picked up the crackling of the wood as the bonfire fed on it next to the wagon. Suddenly, a guard pulled aside the curtain. Without a word, he slid a plate with a piece of bread and a bowl with some water inside and left.

“This is going to be hard to eat with my hands on my back!” the young thief in front of you shouted, but the guard only laughed.

“Nice try,” you said, eyeing the food.

“Oh, she speaks after all,” he said. “And at least one of us is trying.”

“If I had one coin for every time you’ve provoked me since we met, I could buy my freedom,” you said. And again, he was in the wrong. Obviously, you had tried hard to figure out a way to get out of the restraints digging into your skin. If only you had a sharp object or –

“Are you gonna eat that?” he asked, pointing his head at the bread. He was willing to share, at least.

“I’ll bite off half and you get the other side,” you announced and bent your head down to the plate.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, shoving you out of the way so you tumbled onto your side with a huff of surprise.

“What the fuck is your issue?” you asked, regaining you posture.

“I’m taking the first bite,” he said. “I don’t know where your mouth has been.”

“I’ll show you where my mouth is,” you snapped. The next moment you tackled him, teeth digging into his shoulder. He groaned in pain, ferociously pushing you off him. His foot hit your thigh and you realized if you had any chance of getting away, an injured leg wouldn’t make it easier. So, you trudged away slightly.

“Are you out of your mind? Did you just really fucking bite me?” he growled.

“Go ahead, eat your damned bread,” you snarled. With a sulky sigh, you leaned back against the chest behind you, shut your eyes and tried to keep your fury in check.

You sat that way for an hour, maybe a few. With time, the roaring laughter from outside had died down. It must have been the middle of the night when you opened your eyes again. The silence let you conclude that your fellow captive had fallen asleep. Finally, you bent down to where you suspected the water bowl to be and took a few gulps. Only now you realized just how empty your stomach was. But your nose picked up something. Bread. In the darkness, you could hardly make out the half of the piece he had left for you. His humble act redacted your opinion of him from 100 to 98% dickhead. Like a starved animal, you gobbled the food. When you took your place against the chest once more, even you managed to snooze off into a much needed rest.

When the carriage steered through a pothole it shook you out of your slumber. Surprisingly, it was completely bright outside.

“You’re just on time,” the young thief across from you announced. “We’re about to arrive at the castle.”

He hadn’t woken you up. Maybe he had earned a few more sympathy points – with emphasis on a few. Only twenty minutes later, you were lead trough the cold halls of some dark part of the castle, down into the dungeon. While the guards dragged you around, even your loudmouth shut. This was new territory and made you slightly nervous. Were you going to make it out of here? So far, nothing was decided. You dearly prayed the king would be in a fantastic mood when he convicted you.

Your whole body was sore from the hours of sitting in the same position on the hard wood of the wagon, so you almost welcomed being shoved through the uninviting halls. One of the guards cut the remaining ropes from your hands, before pushing you into a cell. Much to your dismay, your fellow wagon inmate would also join you in this prison.

“The king will tend to you lowlives when he has time,” the guard said. The loud metallic clash of the prison bars closing and the lock sliding in place sounded like your demise. Your eyes followed the guard’s figure helplessly, until he had disappeared down the dark hallway. A slam of a door indicated that he was gone. Like a nervous animal, you paced from one wall to the other over and over. Your arms were crossed in front of your body and you were trying hard not to have a nervous breakdown. You needed your brain for more vital things right now – like contriving a plan to escape this hellhole before you could be sentenced to death.

“Would you sit down, goddammit!” the young man remarked. He was leaning against the back wall of the cell, eyeing you closely. “I need to think!”

“Do you think I don’t?” you replied. The moment of panic in your voice was short-lived, but he probably noticed it either way.

“I can’t focus if you’re losing it in front of me,” he said. “If you’re already processing your inevitable death, that’s cool with me. But I’m still planning on getting out of here, so please try to process in silence.”

Your nostrils flared in anger and you clenched your hands to fists by your sides.

“You idiot!” you said. “If you hadn’t done everything in your power to make me despise you right when we met, we could have tried to flee together.”

“Last time I checked, you were the one biting me for having a sense of personal hygiene,” he fired back. “We’re stuck in here. But get it together, we’re not on death row yet.”

In disbelief you stared at him, your irritation almost drowning out the restless pounding inside your head. He held his chin high as if to challenge you. And you could have gone for it. Down here in this cold, forlorn dungeon no one would hinder you from fighting each other. No, you knew for a fact that not a single soul in this castle gave one last damn about whether you lived or died. But you were completely drained. After all the sleep you had gotten, you should have been wide awake, and maybe your body was – but your mind was in the middle of shutting down. So, even though it hurt your pride, you stopped your uneasy walking and mirrored his behavior on another wall. Arms crossed and eyebrows furrowing, you kept your eyes on the ground. Maybe he was right. Giving up wasn’t characteristic for you, so why was your head spinning from dread?

In desperate search of some sort of hope, you caught glimpse of his rather relaxed stance. If he could keep up a calm front, maybe you could too. Luckily, he wasn’t looking at you, and not noticing how you drew strength from his so simple but enheartening behavior.

Three days into your stay in the dungeon, you had found a daily rhythm. Your mornings consisted of pretending to be asleep for as long as you possibly could, then holding yourself back from attacking your beloved cellmate because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for more than five minutes. By midday your arguments had usually turned into playful bickering, because you couldn’t cope with being angry all the time. And frankly, you were bored. Even though standing his endless interrogations about your life was exhilarating, it was still better than losing sense of time and in the process also losing your sanity. Late, when darkness had fallen upon the land, a guard delivered a small ration of food for both of you. This was the part where your bickering morphed back into serious conflicts. If you were going to live on tiny amounts of food, you wouldn’t settle for the smaller ration of the two.

The fourth day was different. When you first reached consciousness, you heard nothing. Usually, he was already awake, noticing like a stalker when you awoke, only to tease you from the moment you woke up. But that day, you opened your eyes to a seemingly empty cell. Until you spotted him in the corner. His body was shaking, and his tiny, husky cough concerned you further.

“H/N?” you asked quietly. Considering the amount of loathing you’d thought you held for him, you sure worried an unnormal amount. But it wasn’t the mere thought of him being ill that concerned you most. It was the idea of having to suffer in the dark, murky dungeon all alone, day to day, until you’d have to face the king, who likely wanted you dead for your crimes. An ice-cold fear crept over you. You didn’t want to – no, you couldn’t – die lonely. Even if he was the last person you could have wished to be thrown into prison with, he was still company. This loathsome cell, the horrors of the near future, the neverending progression of time and the uncertainty that came with it – it all terrified you to the bone. Only now you realized just how much comfort he gave you, all by existing in the same space as you.

Carefully, you approached him. He wasn’t answering you, and he never not answered you. It was a heartbreaking sight. He was curled up in a fetal position, hands clenched to fists on his chest. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead. Whether he liked it or not, you sat down with him. Gently, you reached for his forehead. A second was enough to determine he was burning up.

“Get off me,” he said, slapping your hand away. His voice was so frail.

“Hush. Let me help you,” you insisted. He huffed in annoyance.

“Are you a doctor when you’re not a thief?” he asked.

“No. But improving your mentality will help your body recover faster,” you said. “And you seem to be in a very negative headspace right now.”

His mouth opened to speak, but then a shiver rippled through his body and he wrapped his arms around his knees tightly. All this time, he hadn’t even opened his eyes.

“We need to keep you cool,” you said. “Take off your jacket.”

“This isn’t the time to ask me to take off my clothes,” he said, almost whispered.

“Will you just do as I say so you can get better? Do you want to die in here?” you said, brushing off his words. Something flashed across his face. Fear? Disappointment? Aware that it could invade his comfort zone, you very carefully took his hands. Lucky for you, he let you. When his jacket came off, you noticed the sweat stains that had formed on his thin shirt.

“You can lie down on this, it’ll be more comfortable,” you advised. Without arguing, he followed your instructions and allowed you to spread out the jacket underneath him. This behavior was new, you thought. But you could surely get used it. You knew it must have been serious, if he didn’t give you a silly remark for everything you said.

“I’ll get you more water,” you said, as you retrieved the almost empty water bowl from the center of the stone floor. Set on not spilling a drop, you lifted it to his lips and watched as he swallowed the last few sips. You used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe his wet hair out of his face, as he sunk back down onto the hard ground.

“Sleep now,” you said. You didn’t need to tell him twice. He had been almost unable to keep his eyelids open, so without hesitation, he drifted off into dreamland. For hours, you sat, hugging your knees to your chest, eyes on his anguished figure. Just as you had thought you could deal with the scary ordeal of being held captive in a castle dungeon, this had to happen. Stricken with sorrow, you waited for time to pass. If only you could have slept too, it would have made all the anxious thoughts go away. But someone had to look after him, and you weren’t tired.

His slumber must had been a hag-ridden one. Sometimes, he made small sounds, like whimpers, other times his brows furrowed, and his muscles flexed from whichever terror it was that haunted him in his head.

“Shh, you’re going to be okay,” you assured him, and maybe also yourself. But his tireless stirring only became worse, his body twisting and turning on the uneven ground. He groaned in agony, and your heart clenched like a million little daggers had slashed it.

“I’m here to keep you safe,” you whispered, bending down to his level. With utmost care, you lifted his head and let him rest in your lap. You weren’t really planning what was happening, but your hands found his hands. Softly, you stroked them, waiting for him to calm down and relax his tight fists. His mumbles and quiet moans of distress continued, until you realized. He was trying to tell you something.

“I can’t go like this,” he said.

“You’re not go-“ you started.

“No! My- parents need- me,” he stuttered. By now he was grasping your hands desperately. You sighed and his eyes opened ever so slightly. The anger he had held for you was vanished. You almost teared up at the delicateness of his gaze.

“I need to help them... they’re old and sick and can’t be alone,” he added in a small voice.

“We will get out of here,” you said. You had no idea when there had first been a ‘we’, but now there apparently was. “You have to be strong now, do you hear? Then you can meet your parents again.”

He was looking almost through you. His eyes were so dark, it was like staring right into the deepest part of the ocean. You stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, whilst trying hard to keep a hopeful gaze. For him, you had to appear strong. Or else, how else was he supposed to be?

“I’m sorry- I was such an asshole to you,” he suddenly confessed. “I thought you would steal away the gold before I could. And now look where that brought us.”

“This isn’t your fault. We were both being reckless,” you said. “I’m sorry I bit you. And threatened to spit on your face. And then spat on your face.”

The tiniest smile spread on his face. Success. Any sort of positive emotion could help him now.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he whispered. “I’ll think about whether I can forgive you. You must know, I’m very vindictive.”

His grin was playful, and his eyes were closed, as if he was on the brink of falling back to sleep.

“Forgiveness hurts less than holding a grudge for the rest of your life,” you said. Who knew? Maybe even the king could show remission. All you knew was that you would crumble, would you have to encounter the king alone. Your brain had set on the need for H/N. For years, you hadn’t formed any meaningful relationships – not counting your bond with your ardently loved horse. Now, with his head on your lap and your fingers intertwined with his, you ached for more. Was it really him you wanted? Or had you denied yourself of any affection for such a long time, the smallest contact with anyone appeased your yearning? Would you have felt the same, if it had been somebody else in his place?

At night, the metal noise of the door at the far end of the hallway outside your cell made you lift your head. Gently, so that H/N wouldn’t be awoken, you lifted his head to lay on the jacket instead of your thigh. In impatience, your foot tapped on the ground while you stood in the middle of the cell.

“Sir,” you called the guard with a fake-soft voice. “Will it be possible to receive another cup with water? My fellow inmate has fallen sick.”

The grumpy guard unlocked the metal bars, entering with the usual small ration of food and drink.

“What does it matter if he dies now or by command of the king? Do you think I care?” he growled, not sparing you a glance. You had been almost convinced this would have happened. So, you’d have to resort to different measures.

“Please-“ you begged, suddenly stepping towards the guard, who was on his way out of the cell. Without second thought, you threw yourself onto him, making sure to look extra-devastated and helpless. What could a weak, little young woman do to a guard, other than fall on her knees, right?

“Touch me once more and you’re dead, too, bitch!” he barked. One quick move of your skilled fingers and you eagerly backed off, hands hiding behind your back.

“Sorry, sir!” you said, lowering your head in false shame and guilt. “Please consider my request.”

All he gave you was a grunt of disapproval and he stomped out of the cell, the lock falling into place in a loud crash. Feigning inferiority and intimidation, you didn’t dare move until he was out of the dungeon. Then, you spun to the young man behind you on the ground.

“Open up,” you commanded, suspecting the shouting could not have kept him asleep. Finally, you could pull the flask you had stolen from the guard from behind your back. It seemed to be almost filled to the brim, too. Perfect. He did as he was told, and you let some of the water spill into his mouth.

“I take back what I said in the carriage,” he confessed. “Only full-time thieves have a sleight of hand like yours.”

“It was my pleasure proving you wrong,” you said. “Now, drink up.”

That night, you let him have the full ration of food. For at least ten minutes, he refused to have all of it. But you were stubborn and even though he hadn’t known you for long, he knew that much about you. If you wanted to escape with him, he would need to be fit to run. You had deemed your chances small to begin with, but in his state, you estimated them close to zero. After you had emptied the guard’s flask, you reached through the prison bars and tossed the item as far away from the cell as you could. He should never assume you’d had anything to do with its disappearance. The next day, a different guard would find it there, and bring it back to him under the assumption that he had carelessly dropped it.

Two days passed by. In the first night of the two, you had to comfort him through another few nightmares. During the day, he was sleepy, but had enough energy to have a little conversation with you now and then – something you read as a good sign. The second night, you were able to sleep all the way through, and when you checked his forehead in the morning, it had cooled down a little. On the second day, he had regained his strength enough to be able to sit, leaning against your shoulder.

“Will you stop moving? My head’s pounding,” he said.

“Your complaints make me wonder if you’re doing well now,” you asked, smirking.

“Like I said…my head’s killing me,” he repeated.

“Drink the rest of the water,” you suggested. “I think it’s almost evening. The guard will bring a new bowl soon.”

“It’s your turn to eat tonight,” he stated.

“We’re sharing,” you said. Lucky for him, he didn’t fight back. You wouldn’t have cooperated, either way.

“It’s time to make a plan now, if we want to get out of here. What do you say?” you asked. When he lifted his head, you looked over at him. The color was back in his face, the beads of sweat nonexistent and his cheeky smile bright as ever.

“I wonder…about what your little magic hands did to that guard’s flask…could they do the same with his keys?” he suggested. The way you mirrored his mischievous grin, he knew you agreed. But it would be trickier, this time. From days worth of observation, you had learned that the guards behaved differently. Some adamantly made sure the keys remained in their clenched fists – an instance you couldn’t work with at all – while others preferred to leave them in the lock by the door. You knew you’d never get close enough to even attempt to steal them from there. What you needed was the careless type of guard. The one who snuck the keys into their pockets or left them hanging on their clothes by the keyring. All it took now was to wait and hope the king would keep you locked away for long enough to give you a chance to flee.

That night, luck wasn’t on your side. The guard kept his hands on his keys as if they were his most precious possession.

“Do we really have to go over this again? I told you your pacing is driving me insane,” he said. It was midday of the following day, and you were deep in thought – or you had been – until he had to interrupt you.

“What do you expect me to do? We’re jailed like animals,” you countered. “I can’t stand around like you all day.”

When you saw him open his mouth, you read in his expression what he was about to do. It was his bickering face.

“If there’s one thing I’m not in the mood for currently, it’s getting lectured by you over nothing. Come up with a topic of conversation, please,” you said before he could speak. His smirk concerned you.

“What are you in the mood for, then?” he asked with raised eyebrows. Your death glare said more than a thousand words. “Fine, here’s a conversation topic…let me think…why are you not married?”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you said in the most impassive tone you could muster.

“Oh, alright, if that’s not good enough, I’ll go back to flirting,” he said. The steps he was taking towards you made your brain activate fight mode.

“I’ve never met a man good enough for marriage,” you said.

“And what qualifies a man to be good enough for you?”

“Hm…where do I begin? I’m not a good cook, nor do I enjoy being a maid, nor do I know how to take care of children. Most men want those things in a woman.”

“You took pretty good care of me, didn’t you? But why waste your thieving talent on running a household?” he said.

“That’s where the issue lays. Men don’t favor women who sneak around the village at night and make their own money from being a criminal.”

“Nothing wrong with being a criminal,” he went on.

You laughed out loud.

“You know what? I like it this way. Why settle for staying with one man who might turn out to be a monster, when I can have them all for a night?” you said.

“Well, right now you’re not having anyone.”

“Seems like that’s bothering you more than it bothers me,” you replied in a feisty tone. If you didn’t call him out for the flirting, who would? Although you had to admit, you greatly preferred being courted to his unnerving teasing.

“Why would that bother me?” he asked. “You hate me, don’t you?”

He was right in front of you now, tilting his head and giving you a smirk that made you consider biting him again. And at the same time, something in your body – not your head – wanted to close the small distance between you two.

“If I hated you, I would have let you die,” you said.

“I assumed you kept me alive because you need me to get out of here.”

Now you had another reason to get up in his face. You gripped him by the collar, looking into his eyes.

“Excuse me? You think I wouldn’t be able to escape by myself? If you’re only trying to rile me up, you better let me know, because I already told you I can’t stand to be underestimated,” you said.

“Alright,” he rose his arms in defeat. “After your little stunt with the guard I’m actually pretty glad I have you in here with me. Honestly, I don’t think I’d get out without you.”

“Was that so hard to spit out?” you said, self-accomplished.

“No. But you only come close to me when you’re mad or worried,” he said. By now, his eye contact was captivating in the most confusing way possible. His eyes occasionally skipped to your lips. “And since I’m not sick anymore, I had to opt for the former.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said. Unbelievably handsome, your brain added. And yes, maybe he was. Perhaps it wasn’t so much his beautiful face, but the way he spoke, understanding, even encouraging your lifestyle. You had just forced him to be honest with you. So, maybe it was time to stop holding back the truth from yourself, too.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked. It’s time to give in, you told yourself. Therefore, rather than telling him, you showed him. With a sudden rush of hunger, your lips crashed against his. Momentarily, he seemed taken aback and let out a surprised groan. But within seconds he caught himself, hands grabbing your sides desperately. You thought addictions needed more time to develop, but the feeling of his mellow lips on yours already seemed like one to you.

You had never kissed anyone who had truly made you feel things. Now, your knees were weak in an instant when his tongue grazed yours only for a moment. After so much arguing, it was hard to believe your hands clasping the fabric of his shirt couldn’t be a product of you cursing him but derived from mere want. The way he claimed your mouth silenced even your most invasive thoughts. It was a serenity you had wished for ever since you had gotten caught a few days ago. A moment to breathe freely, make whichever noises you desired and be as close to him as you could.

You pulled him along, stumbling backwards until you hit the cold stone behind you. Being trapped in a dungeon was horrific – but being trapped between his body and the wall left you feeling safer than you had felt in a long, long time.

But the peace didn’t last long. You suddenly heard the all too familiar metal noise from the distance. Alarmed, you sprung apart. As the unexpecting guard walked down the dark hallway, you smoothed out your clothing hastily.

“Congratulations! Your time in here will be over. Tomorrow the king will see you,” the guard announced. You shot your fellow inmate an alerted gaze, which he returned. Silently, he nodded at you. It was time to do something. The guard was now opening the door, bringing inside your food. His key was in his hands – this was going to be an issue. He set the plate down in the front of the room, and was in the process of spinning around, when H/N spoke.

“Sir, may I attract you to a magic trick?” he asked the guard. “I have been practicing it for so long, and it would be a shame if I had to die before I could ever present it.”

“Go to hell,” the guard said.

“I have a coin here,” H/N added. The guard raised his head. “If you win, you get to keep it.”

“Give it to me,” the annoyed man said.

“That’s not how it works. First, I will need both of your hands,” H/N explained. You smiled slightly when the guard sighed. He complied, letting his keys disappear into his oversized pocket. Retrieving them would be child’s play for you.

“Stick up your hands ahead of you. And keep your eyes locked on the coin. Be quick, or you’ll lose it,” H/N said in his dramatic voice. As he lifted his own hand with the coin in it, the guard followed and looked upwards. This was your time. Like a cat, you tip-toed around the guard’s back, not even paying attention to what H/N was doing anymore. Ever so swiftly, your hand slid into his pocket, fingers closing around the chill metal. As quickly as you had approached him, you stepped away, the key sliding into your sleeve and out of sight.

“Incorrect!” H/N called. “But you know what? I will grant you the coin either way. By tomorrow, I might not need it any longer.”

The guard even went so far as to laugh – even if it was a gloating sort of laughter. The only thing left to do now was hope he wouldn’t discover his missing key. But luck was on your side. Without another word, the man stepped out of the cell, shut the door, and walked off. The tune he whistled became smaller and smaller, until it faded out completely.

“Guess who’s getting out of here?” you asked, triumphantly revealing the key.

“You did it!” he exclaimed. You weren’t sure whether it was a spur of the moment decision, or maybe he was just too ecstatic to stop himself, but he flung his arms around your frame and squeezed you tightly.

“Hey, hey, you can’t crush me so close to my escape,” you laughed.

“Our escape,” he smiled. “We need to act fast. He could notice the missing key any second.”

Nodding eagerly, you grabbed half of the bread and downed half of the water bowl. You weren’t going to leave that behind. After all, you never knew when your next meal would be.

“If we make it to the stables, we can get a horse,” he announced. “I saw them on our way here. They’re to the west. The sun should be setting now, if my sense of time is still correct. Let’s hurry, or else we’ll be out of directions.”

“Dorato!” you exclaimed. “They took my horse!”

“The black horse that was tied to the carriage when we came here? I saw him,” he noted. You nodded, swearing you would leave here without Dorato only over your dead body.

Ten minutes later you had successfully exited the cell and approached the door at the end of the hallway.

“Out there it’s on both of us to keep running, okay?” you whispered.

He only nodded. “Towards the setting sun.”

The second you had slipped past the door you were spotted by a maid.

“Prisoners!” she yelled. Your plan to slip away unnoticed had gone down the drain quickly. With one last glance at the young man next to you, you both took off. The way out of the castle was still burned into your brain from when you had been brought inside. Back then, you had already planned to get out, so you had payed an extra amount of attention. When you reached a turn, you barely had time to think about the right way. By now, two guards were after you and you were forced to trust your intuition. H/N was a little ahead of you. The sudden exercise after being refined to a tiny cell for so long made your chest burn in exhaustion after only such a short while. But the adrenaline drowned it all out easily.

You knew you had to be close to the outside, it was a feeling. But then, all of a sudden, a guard cut off your path in front of you. H/N was racing far ahead, so that he could get away. You, on the other hand, had no time to overthink your actions. Before the guard could catch you, you had ducked under his outstretched arms. Now, sprinting down an unfamiliar corridor over the marble flooring, your sense of direction was gone, but your will to survive vigorous as ever.

For minutes you ran, collecting a horde of guards behind you the longer you kept going. When you turned a corner, you were greeted by another long corridor. Only this time, it was a dead end. Nevertheless, you kept up the speed. What else could you have done? By now, your calves felt like they were on fire, breath coming in short gasps. You suddenly took notice of the precious paintings and statues that adorned the hallway. Maybe this was the answer.

Without slowing down, you took hold of a stone vase. Just for a moment, you gathered all your might. Then, you dashed it forward, against the window at the very end of the corridor. Your body followed shortly after, but it was enough time for the glass to shatter before you. In a protective manner, you folded your arms over your chest and shut your eyes tightly as your figure flew through the opening.

When you had passed the window, your eyes opened, and you ducked. Soft grass caught your body as you rolled onto the ground. The impact knocked the air out of your lungs momentarily. But within seconds you were back on your feet. Aggressive shouts from behind you only motivated you to keep going. Faster. Just a little longer. Dawn had broken in, but the sky was still a bright blue to your left. That’s where you were headed. A market place close by acted as the perfect cover for a while. You barely had time to watch out, crashing into people’s shoulders and knocking over bowls and baskets. An enraged shout followed you, but you were already far gone.

And he had been right. Your nose picked up the scent of hay and animals. You had to be close. What if he wasn’t there? What if they caught you again? A short panic bubbled up inside of you. Stealing might could have been forgiven, but for your current deeds no king would let you live. The wooden stables were in sight by now.

You could barely breathe anymore, but something inside of you kept you up and going nonetheless. Every breath burned as you entered, stalls of horses and other animals to your left and right. But no sight of H/N. Nor of your horse. Did he leave without you? Had he assumed you had been caught and tried to save his own life, at least? Your head spun as you scanned the animals one last time. Then, the men’s deep shouts caught up with you. You needed to get out, or else this stable would turn into a trap.

When your feet hit the cobblestone outside, you spotted the mob of angered men and women coming at you. They were holding spears, torches and pitchforks and were livid.

“Y/N!” someone suddenly yelled from your right. The sound of his voice had never sounded better to you. He was on your horse, careering towards you. One last look at the furious crowd of peasants and guards, and then you only focused on him. Only a little more strength, and you could get out of here.

The second he was close enough to you, you started running again. Like you had done so many times, you hauled yourself onto Dorato behind him. Your hands caught his shirt and you pulled your body flush against him. You needed no words. Now, you only needed to trust your horse to get you out of here. Just for a moment, you closed your eyes in exhaustion and took a few, consciously deep breaths. In lightning speed, you raced across the grass and towards the archway out of the courtyard.

And you made it. He shouted in a boisterous tone, and while at first you laughed, you couldn’t help but join his happiness loudly.

~2 months later~

The rough bark of the tree was digging into your back, but you couldn’t have cared less. Not when he was all over you. Not when his scent was so intoxicating, and his busy hands made you forget about any other sensation on your skin. It took no time. You had escaped together, thinking it was your time to part ways after what you had gone through with him. Now, each day you hung on his every word and couldn’t even bear to be away from him for minutes at a time.

Not far from you, your two horses stood, grazing on the grass by their feet. Meanwhile, the two of you, supposed to be on the lookout for your next target, had found another occupation in the cover of the trees. The market close by wasn’t exactly your goal – it was the nobles who would arrive in their carriages like every weekend to spend time by the beautiful lake. While they had their picnics and gossiped about each other, there was enough time for you two check for some gifts to retrieve from their carriages.

You sighed happily as he kissed your neck ever so softly. In him, you hadn’t just found a partner in crime. He was your muse, your comfort and your home. His family was your new family and finally, you had someone to tell all your most unbridles stories and dreams to – someone who could actually reply, with no offense to your horse. Going out stealing was as exciting as hiding between the sheets with him. In such a short time, he had learned to read your face and knew every curve of your body like it was a part of himself, and you had no problem with that.

Suddenly, he pulled away. He looked over your shoulder, gaze changing from tranquil to fierce.

“There they come,” he announced. That moment, you heard the sounds too. Hooves and the crunch of gravel under wheels. Smiling in excitement, you turned to check the situation as well. But you had to be honest, he was much more entertaining to look at. Like in so many cases, you found yourself tied to his gorgeous features and the way his jaw clenched when he was plotting.

“Eyes on the prize, sweetheart,” he said, not peeling his look from the carriages.

“Don’t you know, I’ve already won the best prize there is in the world?” you asked, hearts in your eyes and a cheeky smile on your face.

203 notes · View notes

blitheringmcgonagall · 3 years

Text

My Gallant Lad - Part IV

So I got a wonderful anon telling me that this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fic, it’s part of my finished canon marauders fic We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone story, I posted it here in four parts. I hope you enjoy it! Set during the first wizarding war, Lily is very BAMF (but tbh so is James)

TW: angsty and violence

Part I here: After their worst row ever, Lily and James get captured by Voldemort...

Part II here: James tries to save Lily

Part III here: Lily tries to save James

PART IV

(PS this is not pro- Snape at all, quite the opposite, for this to make sense you’ll have to read the other parts, lol!)

Mulciber swallowed.

“Now help me lift Potter, and for fuck’s sake be careful, he’s perilously close to death as it is!” Snape said.

He was so angry his body was shaking in agitation.

Mulciber lifted James’ body as though it were made of glass.

***

“I’ll take it from here,” Snape ordered.

They were standing underneath the main door of the castle, which led into the courtyard.

“I thought we were bringing Potter and his vile mudblood to the Dark Lord?” Mulciber said, frowning suspiciously.

“Change of plan, Mulciber,” Snape said matter-of-factly. “I want to try and get Evans to talk, that way if Potter snuffs it, we won’t risk being beheaded by him.”

“What do you mean?” Mulciber looked at him in bewilderment. “If you attack Evans and manage to injure her also, we’re doubly fucked!”

“I won’t fuck it up, unlike you dithering idiots I actually know what I’m doing!” Snape says angrily.

Mulciber stared hard at him.

“Are you sure you’re Snape?” he said, narrowing his eyes and reaching for his wand. “You’re acting strangely and I-“

“He’s Snape all right, but under the Imperius Curse,” Lily interjected. “Expelliarmus!”

Mulciber’s wand flew into Lily’s outstretched hand.

“You?” Mulciber seethed. “How in Morgana’s hell did you manage to Imperio him? Last I heard you were wailing painfully awful songs from your cell, giving us all a headache! I thought you’d given up!”

“The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad, for all their wars are merry, and all their songs are sad,” Lily shrugged. “You just hadn’t experienced the merry part yet!”

“You’re not a man,” Mulciber sneered.

“Ha!” Lily’s face broke into a harsh smile. “What Chesterton didn’t say about Irish women is that when they’re angry, all their wars are won!”

Mulciber stared at her sullenly.

“Not my fault that you consistently underestimate me, Mulciber!” Lily shot back. “You think you’d have learnt by now!”

Mulciber’s face looked like curdled milk.

“Too late,” Lily said. “Obliviate!”

Mulciber’s expression changed slowly to one of utter confusion as he looked between Lily, James and Snape. He hadn’t even seen the spell hit him.

“What happened to him?” he said, scratching behind his ear and staring at James’ body. “Where’s your Head Girl badge? Your uniform?”

“Quidditch injury,” Lily said flatly. “Vicious Slytherin tactics. One hundred points from your House, now back to your common room before I have you expelled!”

“Whaat?” Mulciber said, looking utterly bewildered.

“I’m counting till ten. Ten… nine… eight…” Lily said.

Mulciber stumbled and turned immediately, muttering incoherent protests.

“Not bad, Lily Evans,” Snape whispered with a vicious grin. “Not bad at all.”

***

“Outside! Now!” Snape ordered.

Lily Evans remained silent as she walked outside at a steady pace, Snape following her and dragging James Potter’s body along the ancient flagstones.

“Now, it seems that nothing will persuade Dumbledore’s man to reveal what has happened to the Dark Lord’s precious treasure, a book Dumbledore’s men stole! Potter nearly died refusing to tell us. I’m ordering you to tell me, or I’ll make you kill your own husband!” he called out.

“No, I won’t tell you anything,” Lily said with effort.

“Wow! That’s dope!” Villiers whispered loudly to Wilkes.

The two men were sitting on the battlements having a smoke and peering down with interest at the scene unfolding below them.

“Look what Snape is up to! I never thought he was into that shit!” Wilkes replied. “He usually lets us handle that kind of stuff, says it’s boring!”

They looked at each other and grinned.

“Massive!” Villiers giggled, bumping fists with Wilkes.

Snape picked up his wand.

“Last chance, Miss. Evans,” he said, dragging James closer to the middle of the courtyard.

He was holding two other wands in his hand.

“What is going on here?”

Snape whirled around.

Voldemort was standing at the castle gate, and with him Evan Rosier. Voldemort’s wand was pointed at him.

“I am quite simply trying to establish the whereabouts of your missing book, my Lord,” Snape said. “I thought this might work.”

“Rosier here tells me you have been acting exceedingly strange,” Voldemort’s voice was icy. “He thinks you may be under the Imperius Curse.”

“Rosier is neither observant nor intelligent, my Lord,” Snape said stiffly.

“Be that as it may, Severus, you are not yourself, you would not usually dare speak to me with this much courage,” Voldemort replied, stepping forwards.

“My Lord?” Severus replied.

“Let us see what happens, shall we?” Voldemort said, whirling around at the last minute and pointing his wand at Lily.

“Stupefy!” Voldemort said with a lazy swish of his wand.

Lily Evans crumpled to the ground. Snape stood motionless, as though unsure what to do.

“Ah, the spell fades, I see. I had hoped you would not be so easily overcome by it. You disappoint me, Severus, I thought you were stronger than that. I thought you knew the mudblood well enough to watch out for any tricks she might play? Or were you too enticed by her beauty to focus on doing your job properly?” Voldemort spat out. “You shall pay for this mistake! And the object of your affections will most definitely pay.”

“I’m afraid I underestimated the mudblood,” Snape said, with a condescending smirk at the Dark Lord. “I don’t know her as well as I thought I did. She should perhaps have been sorted into Slytherin. It appears that Lily Evans is a devious little bitch!”

Startling emerald eyes glared at Voldemort from Snape’s face. As the wheels in Voldemort’s mind whirled, Snape removed a leather bracelet from his wrist and tapped it, revealing a large glittering brass key.

“Póg mo thóin, Riddle!” he said, flicking the V at Voldemort (who looked momentarily stunned) as he grabbed hold of James’ arm and apparated into thin air.

“I don’t get it,” Rosier said, looking at Voldemort and rubbing his forehead as though in pain. “Was that Snape? No, hang on.. what was..?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” roared Voldemort, raising his head as his blood-curdling screams carried over the courtyard and into the surrounding forest.

He kicked out viciously at Rosier’s leg sending him hopping around in circles howling with pain. A family of carrion crows, disturbed by the commotion, flapped and squawked upwards from the turrets and battlements.

“Which one of you is the imbecile who allowed Lily Evans to escape?” he screamed at Rosier. “Why did none of you stop her?”

Villiers and Wilkes ducked down behind the walls of the battlements, grimacing.

A splash of white bird dropping landed on Voldemort’s nose. Rosier stared at him.

“You have some…” he said, pointing to Voldemort’s face. “Just there?”

Voldemort looked ready to kill him.

“If you don’t permanently dispose of this group of crows by Salazar’s soul, I will feed you to them myself!” he shouted wildly, waving his wand at Rosier, and rubbing his face furiously with the back of his sleeve.

“A murder of crows, not a group, but whatever,” Rosier muttered to himself, looking peeved, as he aimed Avada Kedavras at the screeching birds.

Voldemort walked over to the body of Lily Evans and stared at the darkening hair and sallower skin, Snape’s eyes looking up at him.

“Legilimens!” he intoned.

The memory was tampered with, powerfully, so that he was unable to see some of the earlier incidents, but he could see the conversation between “Snape” and Avery, Fuck Voldemort, I hate that bastard! Avery running off to hide from him. Seething with rage, he grabbed Rosier’s arm and touched his dark mark.

He watched as all his followers apparated around him, all except Snape who lay half-stunned on the ground, and Hugo Avery.

“Find Avery, bring him to me, now, or you all die!” he hissed, the red veins in his sclera protruding menacingly. “Nooooowwwww!!!!”

***

“I don’t know what happened,” Frank said, his croaky voice difficult to understand in between coughing fits.

“He needs to come with me to the Infirmatory,” Poppy interrupted, looking at Dumbledore and pointing towards the door.

Frank continued coughing and shook his head forcefully.

“We were ambushed… they were waiting for us… they wanted to get Black and Lupin,” he wheezed. “They got Lily and James… I wanted to create a diversion but before I could move, one of them released noxious fumes, no doubt to catch any other Order members, I was knocked out cold… I fell backwards and the thicket hid me from sight… woke up freezing cold a short while ago… I couldn’t find any trace of them whatsoever. I only got back just as Lily apparated here with James, he looks bad.”

The ancient double door burst open as he spoke, and Sirius Black stormed inside, his black jeans soaking wet, his leather jacket still in his hands, closely followed by a haggard-looking Remus Lupin.

“We came as soon as we got your owl. Where are they?” he roared, going straight up to Frank and grabbing hold of his collar urgently. “Where the fuck are they? Tell me!”

Remus found himself unable to utter a single word.

***

The door of the Infirmary flew open, Sirius breathless as though he had just sprinted up five flights of stairs (which he had). He looked at Lily and seeing the pain and fear in her eyes, he forced himself to look at James lying unconscious in the bed behind her - it didn’t look like his brother, the bruised and battered body covered in what he immediately recognised as myriad curses, his usually tanned skin a deathly pale colour. He looked already dead. He looked back at Lily, the darkness under her eyes, her quivering lips.

“Lily,” he tried to say her name but no words came out, caught in his throat.

“I know, sweetie,” Lily’s voice a hoarse whisper.

Then they flung their arms around each other, gripping on for dear life. Sirius felt her chest heave and held her even closer as her quiet sobs filled the silent room, shattering his heart.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered back, his breath still caught inside his chest, trapped.

What could he say, hearing her heartbroken sounds?

“We won’t... we shan’t let him die,” he managed to say eventually, shutting his eyes tightly to stop himself breaking down. He moved to take both her hands in his own, looking down at her with tears in his eyes.

He didn’t even know was he trying to comfort her or was he trying to comfort himself.

“I… I used an Unforgivable, Sirius,” Lily said eventually, keeping her head down.

“I would have sprained my wrist throwing Unforgivables at the bastards!” Sirius said. “I wish I could have done it for you.”

He had badness in him already, let him hold it for all of them.

It should have been him. He should have been there instead of James, instead of Lily.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Lily’s voice shook. “I did it to save James… it felt wrong, Sirius, it is wrong and disgusting, but I know I’d do it again to save him. Am I a bad person, Sirius? I.. I saw what they did to him, I wanted them all dead… I thought about it... I wanted to. I don’t want to become like them, Sirius, but I wanted to kill them, so badly!”

“Lily, you didn’t kill them. You could have tried to, but you didn’t. You saved James. Merlin, you saved my brother, the only brother I have left, I can never thank you enough,” Sirius’ voice broke.

He wondered what he would have done in her place.

“It was Snape, he wanted to save me, but I had to find James, I couldn’t… he hurt James, I hate him for it,” Lily said desperately, squeezing Sirius’ arms.

“Fuck that creepy bastard!” Sirius said.

“What if Voldemort kills him? What if he dies? It will be my fault!” Lily whispered. “I hate him so much, but I don’t want to get him killed. I wouldn’t care if he died in battle, not now, not after everything he’s done to James! But being tortured and killed for trying to save me? I don’t want that, am I mad?”

“You had to,“ Sirius said, gripping her tightly. “You had to try to save James. You couldn’t leave with Snape, you know that would have been wrong! You are not to blame for anything Voldemort does!”

“I need James too, Sirius, he doesn’t see that, he thought I could manage without him, he’s so stupid, such a stupid, darling, beautiful man,” Lily stopped, her hand over her mouth.

“He can’t die, Poppy won’t let him die,” Sirius whispered back.

Lily nodded, still crying. He saw her sway and grabbed hold of her shoulders.

“Merlin Lily,” he said anxiously. “Sit down immediately! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you need Poppy? Will I get-“

“ No, please, Sirius, I didn’t get hurt, James-“ she stopped, unable to continue, and bringing her hand up to her mouth again.

He didn’t think he could handle hearing what had happened.

“Hush, Lily, you’re both safe now,” he heard himself say.

“He... I couldn’t... I tried...” she said. She closed her eyes and swayed again, sitting down suddenly and placing her head between her knees.

“I need some water, and something to eat,” she said, sounding suddenly anxious as her almond shaped clear eyes searched Sirius’ for reassurance.

“I... Merlin, yes of course, Darling, let me get that for you!” Sirius said, relief blossoming at some small task he could do to help. “Do you want a firewhisky instead?”

“No! I can’t drink now I’m ... I’m a bit dehydrated Sirius, I better stick to the water,” Lily said, placing her hand over her lower abdomen in a protective gesture.

“Yes of course,” Sirius said feverishly, throwing his leather jacket on.

“I’ll get it,” Dearborn was standing in the doorway looking at Lily uncomfortably.

“Lily, I know you already had a debriefing with Professor Dumbledore, but he was wondering if you wouldn’t mind answering a few more-“ he continued.

“No!”

Both Lily and Sirius spoke at once.

“Not now, my husband needs me here, Dumbledore can wait,” Lily said, staring at Dearborn with a hostile expression as she swiped at her red eyes furiously.

“Tell him to go fuck himself,” Sirius growled.

Dearborn nodded, recognising defeat.

“You get some food and water for Lily, Caradoc, I’ll tell Dumbledore,” Remus said. Remus stood quietly behind Dearborn, a grim look, no obvious emotions displayed on his tired face.

“Righto,” Dearborn nodded reluctantly.

“Hurry up,” Remus ordered. “We don’t want Poppy to end up with another patient.”

“Righto,” Dearborn said, looking relieved to have an excuse to leave.

*** “You wanted to speak with me, Mr. Lupin?” Dumbledore said, gesturing vaguely towards the chair in front of him.

Remus sat down. The silence made him nervous.

“You feel guilty for swapping your week on call with the Potters. You want to make sure that your friends are protected from danger as much as possible from now on?”

Remus felt his cheeks flush. He nodded, feeling even worse.

“Good,” Dumbledore said. “I can see why you’d think that way.”

Remus swallowed. Dumbledore blamed him too? He wanted to crawl under the floorboards never to re-emerge.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, looking down, unable to meet the Professor’s gaze. “I should have stayed…”

“That’s quite alright, Remus, these things happen, and we have to learn from them,” Dumbledore said.

Remus felt himself slide further down the chair. He wanted to cry. It reminded him of The Prank at the end of Fifth Year. It should have been him. He should have insisted Sirius go with someone else. He felt personally responsible for what had happened, and if James died because of him… if James died…

“What can I do, Sir?” Remus whispered hoarsely. “Tell me there is something I can do to help!”

He looked up and caught Dumbledore looking at him keenly, with an astute gaze.

“Of course there is something you can do to help, Remus,” Dumbledore said, steepling his hands together. “It will be dangerous though, the most dangerous mission I have ever given any member of the Order.”

Remus nodded dumbly.

“It is also top secret. You must not discuss this information with a single soul,” Dumbledore said, his blue eyes assessing Remus coolly. “Not the Marauders, not Lily Potter, especially not Sirius Black. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” Remus said, sitting up straighter. “You can trust me.”

“I hope so, Remus,” Dumbledore said. “Most people wouldn’t.”

Remus froze, taken aback.

“I…” he stuttered.

“Luckily for you, I am not most people, Mr. Lupin,” Dumbledore smiled pleasantly. “Lemon sherbet?”

Somewhere in the back of Remus’ mind the words you bastard and what the fuck presented themselves as appropriate responses.

He declined politely.

“I have a singularly important and quite unusual mission, and it seems to me that you are the perfect candidate to volunteer for it,” Dumbledore said, sucking loudly on the muggle sweet and leaning back into his chair.

Somehow the wizard’s eyes seemed beadier in this light. Remus waited.

“I will of course understand if you turn down this opportunity, Remus, that you may be too frightened to go,” Dumbledore said. “Other Order members may be more-“

Remus’ jaw tightened. The words you bastard and what the fuck once more presented themselves as appropriate responses.

“Other Order members have no idea how little I fear most things,” Remus said, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes, of course, Remus, I am well aware that compared to most-“ Dumbledore said, with a placating raise of his palms.

“What mission?” Remus asked.

“A mission to infiltrate Fenrir Greyback’s werewolf pack. I am aware you have already made his acquaintance,” Dumbledore said. “To see if they can be persuaded to abandon their leader and join our side in the war. And to spy on them, at any rate.”

Remus felt a cold shiver of dread run down his spine. His old Headmaster couldn’t be serious, surely. That was a hopeless mission, a pointless waste of life, a …

Greyback…

An ear-splitting scream of terror, his own. Rabid eyes. Massive yellow canines lunging towards him, saliva dripping off them. Laughter and howling.

“Tell your Daddy I said hello!”

A tearing sensation as huge teeth sank into his hip. Another ear-splitting scream, this time of pain…

He felt his hands tremble and gripped the edges of the armchair in agitation.

“If you’d rather not, I am sure I can persuade another member of the Order to pretend to be a werewolf. With some clever Transfiguration spells, which many of our members are particularly gifted at, especially your own friends-“ Dumbledore said.

“No!” Remus said, standing up suddenly and staring hard at the other man, his breathing erratic. “Merlin no! You have no idea…”

His voice trailed off again, his heart hammering wildly against his ribcage.

“So, Mr. Lupin, you don’t feel you can bring yourself to-“ Dumbledore said.

“No!” Remus practically shouted. “I’ll do it! Don’t even think about asking anyone else… I’ll do it, alright?”

“I see,” Dumbledore smiled kindly again. “My deepest apologies Remus, how very brave of you. I should never have doubted you.”

Remus bit the side of his lip. This was akin to agreeing to a suicide mission. Any sane individual would have refused to accept the offer. But surely Dumbledore had guessed he would never allow any of his friends or colleagues to go instead of him, to risk being turned? The bastard must have known all along. Yet he owed so much to this old man, this powerful wizard, the one they were all relying on to beat Voldemort and to win this war. The one who had given him a chance. Who had risked his reputation by allowing him into Hogwarts. Who had not expelled him after the disastrous Prank in Fifth Year. Maybe he was being unkind and unfair to the man. Perhaps this mission was genuinely important?

“No need to apologise, Sir,” Remus said with a small smile, extending his hand out.

“Thank you, Remus,” Dumbledore said, shaking his hand warmly. “I do appreciate your help in this war. I shall contact you shortly with more information about this entire affair. Please remember to keep this top secret.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Remus.

***

He opened the door quietly. The room was dimly lit by the fire and the large candles on either side of the infirmary bed. James looked the same, somewhere between life and death. Lily was sitting on a chair, her head lying on the bed beside him, still fully clothed, the dark shadows under her eyes more pronounced in this light. She was holding James’ hand. Sirius was nowhere to be seen, but at the foot of the bed, on top of the carefully folded blankets lay Padfoot. He was whimpering in his sleep. The shaggy dog opened his eyes briefly, fixing Remus with his mournful grey eyes.

“Sleep, Padfoot,” Remus said quietly. “I’ll stay up. I’ll call Poppy if there’s any change. There’s nothing more we can do.”

Padfoot yelped quietly, turning to look at Lily and James and then looked back at Remus and whined. He was looking at Remus accusingly. Where had he disappeared off to, why hadn’t he comforted Lily? Did he not care?

“I’m sorry,” Remus said.

It sounded curt. Inadequate.

What more could he say?

Padfoot whined once again, dropping his head into his paws, looking dejected. Remus sat on the ground, his head in his hands. He could go over, talk to Sirius, but his boyfriend always knew if he was hiding anything from him, and he was too tired to make up an excuse for what had just happened. Too tired, too traumatised, too selfish…

He stayed where he was.

Padfoot slept fitfully, beset by nightmares. Remus did not sleep a wink. He did not allow himself to sleep. The fear of nightmares kept him awake, as though he were four years old again. Besides, he did not deserve to sleep.

***

PS Póg mo thóin - kiss my ass in Irish

PS To find out if James is okay, and if Lily is in fact pregnant and if yes, what happens next etc, I’m afraid you’ll have to keep reading We Can Be Heroes. If you just want to read on, it’s from Chapter 45.

If you want, I can post more stand alones (Harry’s birth? the Jily engagement? Jily Wedding? Wolfstar first kiss etc??or the next part but it just leads into more stuff!)

#WCBH one shots #BAMF Lily #BAMF James #first wizarding war #defying voldemort #canon jily #canon marauders #angsty #I love Lily Evans #jily #wolfstar #poor darlings #it’s all a bit Angsty

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pandastern · 3 years

Text

What’s Your Poison, Captain Levi

Part 1: Desire

Sub!Levi Ackerman x Dom!Reader

Warnings: explicit, mature content

Word count: 2989

Genre: romance

When Levi overhears a fight between Y/N and Erwin about their newest addition to the squad, his curiosity leads him to investigate. Little does he know that this decision will confront him with his deepest and darkest desires he had hoped to keep buried.

The castle fell silent after a long day of work, most of the cadettes were already asleep and those who weren't, better got to it before he found out. Levi sighed deeply and downed his last cup of tea. The fragrant blend had lasted him for almost 2 months, but as so many things in his life even this was coming to an end.

Levi did not allow himself many luxuries. A clean space and some tea. That had always been enough for him.

It had been a week since Eren had joined his squad. The boy was so lively, so full of life and determination. How many soldiers had he seen with the same kind of attitude. How many had died before his eyes.

Putting down the cup, he got up and rubbed his eyes. Levi couldn't tell how long he had been sitting there, contemplating so many things, he could barely remember what he had mulled over. Maybe he was just utterly sleep deprived.

Yes, that had to be it.

“Off to bed it is then…” He mumbled to himself, blowing out the candle on the table. The moon was shining brightly, the light coming through the windows illuminating his way enough to find his path without needing another light source.

How eerie this castle could be at night. The creaking of old wood and the howling of the summer breeze almost sounded as if the building itself was breathing.

Halfway up the stairs that led to his quarters he suddenly heard a door slam in the hallways below him. The loud sound made him freeze. “This better not be one of the brats out of bed.” He grumbled and listened into the darkness.

“No Erwin! I dont give a flying fuck. That kid has been here for a week. A Week, Erwin! He's been in my office with burns, a bleeding nose, overexhaustion and oh, yes, snapped tendons! Ah! No! Close that mouth of yours I don't want to hear it! I don't care that he regenerates like some Lizard on drugs! Eren is 14!”

“He is a soldier and doing his duty. As should you. Eren is not a child and he knows the cost of his purpose! This young man has seen more than enough of the gruesome reality of this world to make his own decisions!”

“Yes, Life is shit. Reality is cruel. Trust me, I fucking know that! It doesn't change the fact that you are sending children to die, asshole. And no excuse of yours makes it right.”

“Y/N, you-”

“No, fucking save it. I don't want to hear another word. I am not a soldier, nor a cadette, so you can shove your Commander bullshit right back up your arse.”

The sound of angrily stomping footsteps followed by a never ending string of curses echoed through the staircase. Levi rose a brow. He had recognized that voice. Y/N was one of the Medical staff they kept here to support the survey corps. Usually that woman worked under Hanji Zoe's Squad unless she had to take care of injured soldiers... Or Eren.

He couldn't remember having ever heard her use that kind of tone before. He'd seen that woman pop a dislocated limb back into place while sweet-talking the whimpering soldier into a blush like it was nothing. Not much of a soldier herself, he had to admit, but she kept her medical office under strict rules that no one dared to break. Y/N was strict, but she was never harsh. Not like this.

He knew it was probably for the best if he just went to bed. It was none of his business. They weren't friends so he was probably the last person she wanted to talk to right now. Especially since he was also a reason why Eren was here in this castle. Granted, if he and Erwin had not intervened the boy would be dead by now. However that didn't change the fact that whatever argument Y/N had had with Erwin she would most likely have with him as well. And as someone who had seen what that woman was capable off, he'd rather not be on the receiving end of that.

After hesitating for a moment Levi sighed deeply and turned around and followed in the direction of where Y/N had stomped off to. Why, he couldn't say. Maybe it was that slight tremble in her voice when she had hissed at Commander Erwin, that he had never heard before. Maybe he was just...curious.

It took a little bit of searching before he found her. Y/N was sitting outside in the grass, resting against a tree. When Levi approached her the scent of something sweet and burning wafted around him.

“What the hell are you smoking?” he asked and wrinkled his nose. “Don't tell me you actually got your hands on tobacco. What merchant did you shake down for that?”

Taking a deep drag from the hand rolled cigarette in her hand she gave him a very calculated look.

“Isn't it past your bedtime Captain Levi?” Her lips curved into a smirk that made her look like a Cheshire cat. “Don't you know? To stay sane in this wretched world everyone needs a little pick me up. Some people like to fuck an excessive amount, some people drink alcohol till their liver burts like an overripe tomato. Others…”

She took another drag from the cigarette, the sweet musky smell getting stronger. “Others just know where the good stuff grows.”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. Levi didn't reply to that. He could sense the frustration in her demeanor. “It's not like you to numb yourself with substances to escape whatever upsets you.”

Another dry laugh.

“I am not. This is St. John's wort and lavender. Helps me sleep. And considering you're up at this ungodly hour I am guessing you could use one as well.”

Levi watched as Y/N softly patted the grass next to her, motioning for him to sit down. With a sigh he let himself fall into the grass. Silence spread between them and Levi just watched her carefully.

“I heard your fight with Erwin.” He finally said.

Y/N clicked her tongue and shot him a glance through narrowed eyes.

“Oh? So you're here to...what? Scold me?”

“No. Not like a brat like you would listen to me.”

“It doesn't matter what I think anyway, does it?”

Levi sighed and stretched out his legs, leaning back against the tree. “You know that what we do here is necessary. You also know that Eren is not a child. No matter his age. It may not be pretty and it may not be what you want for him, but you can't forget that Eren killed twenty Titans by himself in his Titan form.”

Grinding her teeth Y/N pressed the cigarette bud into the ground and cursed again.

“Fuck you. Don't you think I know that?! I am fully aware that this kid can turn into a building sized naked killer man. Trust me, Hanji told me all about it in one of their ‘I am horny for Titans’ rants. It doesnt change the fact that he is a child. Just because he's seen some shit doesn't make him any less of a 14 year old kid. If you're sending soldiers to die, then at least make sure they are fully grown first.”

Her voice had gotten louder with every word she spat out before she cut herself off. Levi watched her take a deep breath and pull out a second hand rolled cigarette.

“We have no choice. Not when the survival of the human race is on the line.” he stated with a stern voice. It wasn't that he didn't understand where she was coming from but sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

“Spoken like a good little soldier. I know that of course. Doesn't mean I have to like that shit.” Y/N scoffed. “How far you've come from just a little underground street rat.”

Levi stiffened. It had been so many years since someone had brought up his origins. He wasn't ashamed of who he had been, but being confronted with it so suddenly still made him tense up.

“What, surprised? Of course I know. Where do you think I come from. You're not the only underground rat dwelling on the surface. Like you, Erwin was the one who pulled me up.”

Now she sounded almost bitter.

“Now that you mention it, it explains a lot about you.”

Like that time when he had watched her knock a hysteric solder out cold with one brief move so she could treat them.

“I suppose it does.” Y/N pulled out a lighter and ignited her second cigarette, taking a deep drag. “I've always been good with herbalism. Drugs...Poison...Back then I used that knowledge to cater to Clients with a very particular taste of pick me ups.”

Another side shot glance and the smirk returned on her lips. “But enough about me. What is your preferred poison, Captain?”

The swift change of subjects did not go unnoticed to him. Not that he minded. He personally didn't much like to talk about the past. That, however, caught him off guard.

“What do you mean?” He asked carefully.

Y/N sat up, put out her cigarette and leaned closer, her eyes having a glint in them he had never seen before. “Like I said before. Everyone has that little something that keeps them sane. So what is it for you? And please don't say tea. That doesn't count.”

“Why wouldn't it count? Who gets to decide what keeps me sane if not me?” he huffed. Levi didn't like where this conversation was headed. As Y/N leaned a little closer, he instinctively leaned back but the tree trapped him in place.

“Because I am talking about something more...decadent.” Her husky chuckle made him shiver, her face now so close to his, he could feel her breath on his skin. She smelled sweet, just like the herbs she had smoked earlier. To his surprise it wasn't unpleasant.

“So...tell me. What is it the Levi Ackermann, humanity's strongest soldiers desire? What is it that makes your fingers itch? You always seem so stoic but I know there's more. I can see it in your eyes”

Levi finally recognized the glint in her eyes. It was the same look a cat had that was playing with a mouse, ready to pounce. And he didn't quite know how to feel about that.

“I have no idea what you're going on about.”

“No?” Another soft chuckle that made the hair on the back of his neck stand. She was so close now, he could make out the soft dusting of freckles on her cheeks. Before he could stop himself he evaded her eyes to focus himself.

Soft fingers grasped his chin, forcing him to look at her.

“Y/N-”

“Do you think i haven't noticed? The way your eyes follow me the moment I step into a room?” She whispered.

Levi could feel his face grow hot. Had he really been so obvious?

“I- wait, Y/N its not- “

Before he could answer, Y/N moved even closer, climbing into his lap. Levi stiffened, his eyes wide as her warm hands cupped his face.

“It's okay, I don't mind. Not like I haven't done the same thing…”

Her body was pressed so flush against his, her body heat almost scalding him. Levi's breath caught in his throat. Their faces were so close, noses touching, breath mingling together and somehow the entire world started to fade away, leaving just the two of them together. His heart was beating so fast, he was sure the sound must echo through the entire castle, but he just couldn't push her away. He knew he should. He knew he couldn’t allow this. Knew this wouldn't end well for him.

But the look in her eyes told Levi, Y/N already had him in a trap he couldn't escape. Not that he wanted to.

“Such pretty eyes you have, Levi.” She whispered in a low voice. “I’ve always wondered what's going on behind them.”

Keeping one hand on his cheek, Y/N gently brushed a strand of hair out of his face making him shiver. No one had ever touched him that way before. “W-what do you mean?” He managed to whisper hoarsely.

“What you crave of course. Everyone has something. Fantasies of pleasure and lust that keep playing in your head when you are all by yourself and need some release.” Y/N laughed softly, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip. Gods he was blushing like a boy but that look in her eyes kept him enthralled, unable to move a single muscle.

“I have two theories. Lets see which one hits the spot.” She purred. “My first theory is that you crave control. You are the captain after all. So what is it you think of when you watch me?”

Another shiver ran down Levi's spine, Y/n's feather light touches ghosting over his skin igniting his nerve endings in exhilarating sparks. Why was it so hard to breathe?

“Do you think of me, naked? Tied up with ropes, suspended limbs hanging in the air like a doll...completely and utterly at your mercy as your wandering hands coax soft moans out of me? Do you dream about teasing me till I fully submit to your authority?”

Heat started pooling in his stomach and instinctively Levis' hands moved to her hips gripping them tightly. Y/N leaned in, softly brushing her lips against the corners of his mouth. Levi froze, his fingers digging into her soft, supple skin. “W-what?”

She was searching his eyes intently and it felt like she was stripping away every little layer of protection he had built over his lifetime. Dangerous. She was dangerous. He'd always known that. Hed known the moment their eyes had met for the very first time.

“No...no that's not it…is it?” A lascivious smirk spreading over those sinful lips of hers. “So I was right. See, my second theory is the one I find most plausible. It's human psychology after all…”

Her hands started to travel down his jaw before resting gently around his throat. Levi swallowed hard. He could feel himself tremble softly and that predatory glint in her eyes told him, she felt it too.

“You don't wish for control Levi, do you? You crave release. So much responsibility on your shoulders. Always having to be reliable. Humanity's Strongest. A leader in his own right. But what you really want is to let go. To give yourself into reliable hands that roam your body just the right way”

Levi could feel her lips on his ear, nipping at the soft skin. The gasp escaping his parted lips was almost treacherous and wrong. But dammit she was right. And he hated that she was.

“I am right, aren't I? I can feel you getting excited…”

As if to prove a point Y/N rolled her hips against him, coaxing a soft moan out of his parted lips. Levi's head fell forward against her shoulder, the scent of her herbs wrapping around him, more intoxicating than any booze he'd ever tasted.

“Please-” He rasped almost helplessly.

“Please? My, my, Levi...such beautiful sounds you make.”

More featherlight nips and kisses trailing down his jaw and neck, making him dizzy. She was toying with him.

“Your arms tied behind your back, maybe even on your knees. Helpless and taken care of at the same time. That's what you crave isn't it? That's the deep dark sinful little desire that's burning in your heart. Submission.”

Nimble fingers threading into his hair, gripping it tight before yanking his head back.

“F-fuck!” The moment the groan left him Levi already knew he was done for. She was gonna swallow him whole.

“Say it Levi...is that what you want?” Y/N purred, her forehead touching his. It was an order. She was giving him an order.

Levi shuddered under her gaze, his throat so dry he barely resisted the urge to lick his lips. “Y-yes…”

“There we go...that wasn't so hard was it? Don't worry...I'd be more than happy to do that for you darling. I will keep you safe… take you apart piece by piece until you lose yourself in pleasure. Until you fall… and then I will put you back together.”

Her lips were hovering over his, a tease, an invitation. Why couldn't she just kiss him already?

“What...are you saying?” Levi whispered barely audible, his chest heaving with every breath. His lungs and all his senses already filled with her scent, her body pressed again so flush he could feel every curve through her clothing.

“I am making you an offer, Captain. And I want you to think about it before you answer. If that is what you want...come find me in my office. I'll help you fly in the best and worst way possible...understood?”

Not knowing what to say or do, Levi just nodded. There was no way another word could make it past his lips. He wanted her. He wanted her so damn bad, the desire was burning him up alive.

Her soft chuckle echoed through the night.

“Good. I bid you goodnight then. Come find me when you're ready.”

Before Levi could process what she had just said, Y/N got off him and jumped to her feet as if nothing had ever happened. His body shivered at the sudden lack of heat, already feeling empty without her so close to him.

Stunned, Levi watched her wink at him before disappearing into the night. What the hell had just happened?

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #sub!levi ackerman #sub!levi #x reader #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titan x reader #levi x you #What’s Your Poison Captain Levi #levi ackerman x you #shingeki no kyoujin x reader

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xxdragonwriterxx · 3 years

Note

Pls do a pt.2 of cuddle bug. I need more where they get delayed and Levi has to share his tent for another night or two. Pls at least consider it, the end of cuddle bug gave me big boy 🦋🦋🦋

A/N: You know, I never really considered a sequel for this story but once you mentioned it, I got really excited about it! I loved writing that story so it’s always really fun to hear people say they enjoyed it. Thank you for requesting, I hope this is what you were looking for! (Also, ur comment inspired the title).

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Liar” By: Arcadian Wild 🐉

~~~

🔥 Butterflies Caught Up In The Storm 🔥

(Y/N) felt it before she saw it. She felt the wind pick up from a light breeze to an insistent gale. She saw the clouds rolling and colliding in the sky, darkening and growling. She heard the rush of wings as flocks of birds shot into the air and flew away from the trees, which were starting to rustle with the increasing wind. It was clear and bright out, a beautifully crisp autumn afternoon, but (Y/N) knew what was coming. Her horse seemed to agree, the chestnut mare’s flared nostrils and wide eyes telling (Y/N) she could sense it too. Giving the mare a soothing pat on the neck, (Y/N) carefully tugged her forward, trying to convince the beast to graze before the storm hit.

“You’re having trouble too?” A familiar feminine voice asked, catching (Y/N)’s attention.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said, smiling at Petra, who had wandered over with her own bay gelding. “Phoenix won’t eat with this storm brewing, she’s too stressed. I’m trying to calm her down but she’s not having any of it.”

Petra nodded grimly, “Tyson is the same way. He won’t stop pacing.”

“It must be a bad one this time,” (Y/N) said quietly, reaching up to stroke Phoenix’s fur, “She doesn’t normally fear storms like this.”

“Yeah, I’m worried about our tents being blown away.”

“Me too…” (Y/N) murmured. “I’m guessing none of us are going to get any sleep tonight.”

Petra groaned and led Tyson in a small circle, trying to keep the normally level-headed gelding from pacing.

“Yeah, I know,” (Y/N) sighed. “I was really hoping to get some rest, it’s been a long day.”

(Y/N) normally didn’t have a problem with storms. In fact, she had a certain soft spot for them. She loved how dark it got, the clouds creating a gloomy yet comforting blanket over the land. She loved the sound of the rain as it pounded on the windows, the crack of the thunder as lightning struck the sky; a glowing sword slaying some mighty beast. She loved the wind and how it would howl it’s lonely song, crying out for a lover that would never respond. Despite the chaos it presented, storms always tended to soothe (Y/N), making her want to cuddle up with some warm tea or hot chocolate and a book. It made her want to burrow under a blanket and listen to the roaring outside her window as the storm lashed at the stone walls of the Survey Corps castle. But she wasn’t in her room with a warm blanket and a good book. She wasn’t protected by the solid stone walls of the Survey Corps headquarters or given warmth by the roaring fireplace she had across from her bed. She was outside of the walls, in the middle of nowhere with a skittish horse and nothing but a flaxen tent to keep her safe. The only benefit of the storm was that the titans seemed to have scattered in the wake of the approaching darkness, finding some other place to settle down for the early onset night.

“Hey, at least we won’t have to sleep alone tonight,” Petra said, trying to lighten the mood. “At least we will be paired again since we lost that supply wagon to the titans, maybe it’ll feel better to experience the storm with another person. It might be comforting.”

Petra had a point, but her words also brought a twinge of anxiety to (Y/N)’s gut. Captain Levi hadn’t seemed upset with her when she had cuddled up to him by accident the last time they shared a tent, quite the opposite really, laughing and teasing her. But it didn’t stop the thoughts from filling her head, making her overthink the situation. He had found it amusing the first time because it had been unexpected and she had been so flustered in the morning when she had woken up to find him sprawled underneath her, but what would he think if she did it a second time? Would he be annoyed? She was half expecting him to reassign her to sleep beside Eld or Gunther at this point. She wondered if he would even be compelled to make Petra and Oulo sleep in separate tents despite their relationship, just so he could make (Y/N) sleep with Petra instead.

It made her flush with guilt and embarrassment at the thought. The last thing she wanted to do was make Levi uncomfortable around her, but she had invaded his personal space in a way she was sure nobody else had ever done before. It was only natural that he would distance himself from her.

(Y/N) shook her head, chasing the negative thoughts away, deciding to worry about that later. “Yeah, at least we won’t be alone. Maybe that’ll make it easier if the tents try to blow away, there can be two people to hold each one down instead of one person trying not to get carried off by the storm.”

Petra chuckled and led Tyson in another circle.

“Speaking of sharing tents,” She said, her eyes glimmering, “How was it sharing a bed with the Captain?”

(Y/N) froze a bit. Memories of that night came flashing back, making her blush as she remembered the feeling of his solid chest pressed beneath her, his warm breath fanning out over her neck, and his soft silver eyes gleaming at her as he fought the urge to laugh at her flushed face.

“Oooooh,” Petra said, her smile widening as she noted (Y/N)’s pink cheeks. “Why are you so flustered all of a sudden? Did something happen? Did you two finally fu-”

“NO, NO,” (Y/N) shouted quickly, waving her hands in front of her face. “No, nothing like that. It was just kind of embarrassing sleeping next to him. I mean, he’s the Captain! It just felt weird as his subordinate to be in the same bed as him with nothing but our pajamas on.”

Petra nodded but the shit-eating grin on her face didn’t disappear. (Y/N) leaned over and flicked her friend on the forehead, giggling when the ginger hissed at her with a glare.

“What was that for?”

“You know what it was for.”

“That was mean, (Y/N).”

“Well, you shouldn’t have been thinking about Levi and I in that tent, especially since I told you nothing happened.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I would never do such a thing.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at Petra’s teasing but couldn’t keep the warm smile off her lips as the two laughed together. She had to hand it to the sweet ginger, she had at least helped decrease her stress and pull (Y/N) from her own head. Even the horses had sensed the shift in their riders and had calmed down somewhat, Phoenix leaning down to take a few nibbles of the grass at her feet before she raised her head again, her ears rotating as she listened for any sign of danger.

“(L/N)! Ral! We are setting up the tents. Put the horses away and get over here now!”

Both women stopped laughing immediately and moved to tie the horses to a nearby tree, making sure to loop the ropes into loose knots so the horses could escape if they really needed to without injuring themselves. As soon as the animals were secure, (Y/N) shoved her anxiety away, and the pair made their way over to the rest of their squad.

__________________________

Levi cursed as he glanced at the darkened clouds, the sky now an inky black as the storm covered the setting sun. A light rain had started since the tents had been erected, but Levi knew the worst was yet to come. He watched as the squad moved around, tying down the last of the supplies and attending to any last minute necessities while the rain was still light and misty.

Without his permission, Levi’s eyes automatically found (Y/N) amongst his squad members, watching as she moved quickly around the camp, calming the horses and covering the wagons with the tarp they always brought on missions for exactly this reason. She was so graceful when she was focused, her movements lithe and quick. He knew she tended to be a bit of a clutz when she was just performing mundane tasks back at headquarters, but it didn’t take away from the obvious control she had over her body as she maneuvered around each of her comrades, helping where she could and confirming that everything was accounted for just as Levi had asked of her.

Snapping out of it, Levi quickly averted his gaze and cursed again, this time in anger at himself. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He had had a crush on (Y/N) for ages and yet it had never affected him like this before. He felt like he was flailing, like he lacked control for the first time since he was a small child. It scared him, made him embarrassed and anxious. He had an idea of what this was, but it didn’t make it any easier to digest.

He knew he had been an asshole lately, knew she was confused and hurt. When he had first woken up to find her sprawled over him, he had been overwhelmed with emotions that had pushed him over the edge, leading him to finally act on his hidden desires somewhat. He had allowed himself to laugh and smile, had allowed himself to get close to her, brush his lips along her ear, and compliment her. He had enjoyed it, letting go a little, letting himself finally show her how he felt about her. But then reality had slapped him across the face. She was his subordinate, and while it wasn’t forbidden, it wasn’t ideal. He just knew it would interfere with his focus on the battlefield, and he couldn’t afford the distraction. On the other hand, he didn’t even know if she liked him back. She had cuddled up to him in her sleep, but she had admitted to him herself that she does that to anything she sleeps with. Her pillow, a blanket, a stuffed animal, a person, it didn’t matter, she would cling to it. So what made him special? How did her cuddling him give him any indication of her feelings?

It didn’t. It didn’t mean anything. She wasn’t cuddling up to him because she found comfort in him, she did it because it was normal for her. Any other man would’ve done just as well, possibly even better in holding her close that night. The thought of another man cuddled up with (Y/N) made his blood boil and his teeth clench so hard they hurt, but he couldn’t force his feelings on her just because of one incident. Especially if she didn’t feel the same way. It just wasn’t meant to be, no matter how much he wanted it. So he had settled for loving her from afar, pushing her away and keeping her at a distance, just like he did with everyone around him. He was determined to stick to his promise of keeping people at arm’s length, guarding his heart through thick and thin in the event that someone he cares about gets ripped away from him again. He had lost way too many people in his life, he was not about to experience the pain of losing (Y/N) too.

He could tell his cold behavior confused her, but he kept it up, hid behind his mask no matter how much his heart cried when he saw her hurt expression. It was for her and for him, better for everyone involved if he just ignored the pulling of his heartstrings and continued their relationship as it should be, as Captain and cadet.

“Captain.”

Levi was snapped out of his reverie by the voice of none other than (Y/N), her eyes hooded as she looked at him.

“Everything is stable and prepared for the storm, sir.”

“Good, you are dismissed.”

(Y/N) saluted him and spun on her heel, not looking back as she made her way to their tent to change and prepare for bed. Levi’s gut twisted. He hated that look in her eyes. So far, she had treated him with nothing but respect ever since he had begun ignoring her, but he never missed that look in her eyes, the confusion and disappointment in her gaze. The feeling of wanting to be sick all over the stones of the cliff edge where they had set up camp increased tenfold when he thought about having to spend the night with her once again. The thought of having to experience the tension of laying beside her all night. He wondered if she’d even cuddle up to him again, if her body would reject him even in sleep despite her habit.

Levi sighed and ran a hand through his slick raven locks, rain droplets landing on his cheeks as they dripped from his fringe. He knew he just had to act like an adult and go in there with her, but it was an effort to fight the feeling of nausea in his gut as he made his way over to the tent they were sharing. As soon as he slipped in through the flaps and zipped them closed, the loud roar of thunder rolled over them quickly followed by the intensifying of the rain, turning from the soft taps of droplets to the pelting of bullets.

(Y/N) was facing away from him when he entered, neatly folding her uniform and placing it off to the side while she waited for him to change. Levi undressed quickly and followed her example, placing his clothes beside hers as she settled on the cot, pulling the blankets up to her neck. Neither of them spoke a word, but the urge to spill everything that was on the edge of their tongues plagued both of them. Levi finished his nightly regimen before carefully slipping under the blanket beside (Y/N), blowing out the lantern and making sure to turn away from her so she wouldn’t feel as uncomfortable.

(Y/N) grit her teeth when she felt him turn away from her. Was she really that bothersome? Had her cuddling him really made him that upset? She knew she had no right to judge him, it was his boundaries she had crossed, but that didn’t stop the tidal wave of sadness and disappointment that rose in her chest. She had been hoping they could move past this, that he would give her the chance to apologize and they could go back to the way things were between them, but obviously he was in no hurry to speak to her ever again, if his behavior towards her was any indication.

(Y/N) closed her eyes and tried to let the sounds of the storm outside soothe her, snuggling deeper under the blankets as the rain slapped the tent’s walls, trying to drown out her thoughts and emotions with the sound of the rolling thunder that rumbled and barked overhead.

(Y/N) was nearly asleep, her brain finally quieting down for the night when she heard it. She thought for a minute she had imagined the noise, but after another moment of patiently listening, she heard it again, the sound of a deep groan coming from the Captain. (Y/N) froze, her eyes wide as she waited. She had no idea what was happening, but she knew for a fact it couldn’t be good. The noise sounded high-pitched, desperate, strained, as if the Captain were in pain. (Y/N) turned slightly and opened her mouth to say something when a bolt of lightning dashed across the sky, flashing the tent with a bright white light. (Y/N)’s eyes widened and she had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping when she suddenly realized just how uncomfortable he was.

Levi was shaking.

What had she done? Thunder crashed as horror seeped into (Y/N)’s bones. She felt his shaking increase, the subtle vibrations making the cot twitch and shift beneath them. How could she have done this to him? What she had believed to be a mild annoyance to her Captain seemed to be much worse than that. At first, she wondered why he didn’t tell her about his discomfort with touch, or why he didn’t have her reassigned, but she quickly shoved those questions aside. Of course he didn’t tell her or reassign her, he was the Captain of their squad, the goddamn Humanity’s Strongest. Of course he would put his pride and reputation before his fears. It was his job to appear unfazed no matter what he was faced with.

And besides, even if it wasn’t his job to keep silent about his personal issues to his subordinates, (Y/N) had a hard time seeing Levi admit to having a phobia of touch. He always kept that mask placed securely over his emotions and expressions, it was no surprise that he would hide this as well.

The fact that she hadn’t known didn’t stop the feelings of dread and guilt from dragging her stomach to her feet and choking her heart with a chain. She felt the tears well up behind her eyes, and didn’t try to stop them when they spilled over her lids and cut wet paths down her cheeks. She felt sick. She wanted to apologize, but she didn’t know how. She was used to comforting people with physical affection and gentle soothing gestures rather than using her words. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to wrap her arms around him, to stroke his hair and rub soothing circles into his back, but she forced herself to hold back. She had clearly caused enough damage already.

Making up her mind, (Y/N) decided that the best option was to leave. She knew there was very little she could say or do to make up for what had happened, and she refused to keep him awake with the fear of her touching him again. The last thing she wanted to do was be away from him, especially when he seemed so vulnerable, but she wasn’t going to let herself cause unnecessary tension within the squad because she decided to be selfish. They needed their Captain in top shape, and it was clear that wasn’t going to happen with her in the same room. Quietly gathering her blanket and her cape, (Y/N) slowly stood and crept towards the exit flaps of their tent. She cringed at the thought of being sandwiched with the Oulo and Petra, but she knew the couple wouldn’t deny her entry despite wanting to enjoy their alone time together, and figured that would be the best place for her to stay for the rest of the night. Taking a deep breath to prepare for the onslaught of cold water she was about to get blasted with, (Y/N) curled her fingers around the edges of the flaps and started to undo each loop keeping them closed.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Levi’s cold voice, despite being a bit shaky, made (Y/N) freeze in her tracks. She had known he was awake, but she hadn’t expected him to protest.

“Um, I’m going to Petra’s tent, sir.”

Levi furrowed his brows, his jaw clenched, “Why?”

“Because I was making you uncomfortable, sir.”

“What are you talking about?”

The last thing (Y/N) wanted to do was embarrass him further, but she figured now wasn’t the time to beat around the bush.

“You were shaking, sir.”

(Y/N) saw the realization quickly flash across Levi’s features before he scowled angrily, leaning back with an arm over his face, “Fuck…”

He hadn’t known that she could feel it. He had been trying so damn hard to hide it, especially after those little groans had escaped him without warning. The knowledge that she was here to see him in such a vulnerable state tossed his heart around like a butterfly in a storm, a confusing blend of intense embarrassment and soothing comfort flooding through his veins.

“I wish you had told me sooner,” (Y/N) said, causing Levi to lift his arm so he could look at her properly. “I know why you didn’t, but if you had, I never would’ve tried to stay with you for another night. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and the last thing I want is for you to think you have to avoid me because I didn’t respect your boundaries. I am s-so sorry…”

(Y/N) broke off, swallowing the tears that bubbled in the back of her throat. She wasn’t the victim here, she wanted to appear sincere and apologetic but she didn’t want to make him feel guilty for his reaction to everything that had happened between them. She just wanted to make him feel better and pretend like this whole incident had never happened.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll leave now. I hope you’re able to get some rest tonight, Captain-”

“(Y/N).”

The way he said her name, in a tone that sounded desperate and strained, made her close her mouth and meet his gaze.

“Come back to bed.”

She hesitated at first, but quickly found the confidence to move towards him when he pinned her with a dark glare. Moving back to her spot, (Y/N) placed her cape with the rest of her uniform and brought the blanket back over her body, laying down on the spot furthest from Levi.

(Y/N) let out a loud gasp when Levi suddenly reached over and wrapped his arms around her before she could react, yanking her away from the edge of the cot and pulling her into his chest. (Y/N) quickly tried to push away from him, but he held her steady against him, his arms refusing to loosen until she gave up on escaping.

“Listen here, brat,” Levi said, his voice surprisingly clear, “It’s not you. I’m not afraid to be held by you. I know I’ve been an asshole lately, but I was worried about letting myself get close to you only to lose you. I’ve lost so many. The last person I want to be caught up in everything is you. I c-care about you, and I just can’t stand the pain of watching you die.”

(Y/N) teared up at his impassioned confession, her fingers clenching in the fabric of her pajama top. Her heart was pounding against her rib cage as if it was trying to bust out, its drumming song throbbing throughout her entire body.

“But, you were shaking, and facing away from me, and fidgeting around,” (Y/N) said quietly.

Levi tensed but took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax again.

“That wasn’t because of you, brat.”

She tilted her head in confusion. He knew she wanted more details than that, but he was finding it difficult to put everything into words. He was just about ready to blurt it out to her, rip off the bandaid quickly, when a flash of lightning broke the sky in half, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the entire camp.

To her utter shock, Levi flinched and whimpered. He cursed at his own reaction, his arms tightening subconsciously around her body.

“Levi…” (Y/N) murmured. “Are you… scared of storms?”

The look in his gunmetal hues was answer enough. (Y/N) felt a dizzying mix of immense relief and a rush of sympathy and sadness wash through her. She was glad she wasn’t the source of his fears and discomfort, but she felt horrible for what he was going through. She had had no idea, never even had an inkling that their fearsome, stone-faced Captain would be scared of rain and thunder.

Quickly shaking off any questions she had, (Y/N) shifted her arms from where they had been hugging her stomach, and wrapped them around his waist and neck, pulling him into her. She felt him tense a little at the foreign contact, but she didn’t let it mess with her confidence. She knew he needed this, knew he secretly craved the comfort of human contact, and forced herself to shove her anxiety to the side and focus solely on her hurting Captain. After a moment, Levi eventually tightened his grip on her and snuggled into her embrace, making her heart explode with love and affection.

He nuzzled his face into her neck, letting out occasional quiet moans and murmurs of approval as she ran her fingers through his soft raven locks with one hand and rubbed comforting circles into his back with the other.

They were silent for a long while, merely enjoying the comfort of the other’s company despite the tenseness (Y/N) could still feel in the Captain’s muscles. Whenever thunder rocked the world, or a gust of wind made the rain lash against the tent like gunfire, (Y/N) would hold him tighter to her, cooing softly at him and massaging his back and shoulders. His eyes closed at her ministrations, his lashes fluttering against her skin, tickling her neck as he started to settle.

“My best friends died in a storm just like this,” Levi whispered into the dark, making (Y/N) gasp. She looked down to see his eyes were still closed, his nose pressed against her neck.

“Levi… I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) said, lightly scratching his undercut.

“What’s done is done,” Levi said tightly, “But I’m never going to let anything happen to you.”

Levi opened his eyes, pinning her with a look of determined fire, “I will protect you, I promise.”

(Y/N) smiled, letting out a contented sigh as he leaned in to press soft butterfly kisses along her throat, a sign of gratitude for everything she had done for him.

“I’ll protect you too, Levi. Whenever you need me, I am here for you. Always.”

Levi was grateful she couldn’t see his face as he blinked away the tears that had unexpectedly risen to prick at his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that, brat.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and leaned down to press a loving kiss to his forehead, “You better.”

Levi snorted, “Go to sleep.”

“Yes, sir.”

Levi gave her a weak flick on the shoulder before snuggling more into her warm embrace, a small smile making its way to his face as he felt the fear drain from his body despite the storm still raging outside. (Y/N) was his calming balm, something to soothe his tortured soul and battered heart. He was still afraid of losing her, but he knew now that he couldn’t bear to stay away. He would just have to work harder to protect her, to keep her from harm at all costs. He would become her sword and her shield, a way to repay her for being his blanket, his home, his light.

“Goodnight Levi,” (Y/N) sighed as her own eyes fluttered closed.

“Goodnight Cuddlebug,” Levi said softly, a nickname he was sure would embarrass her later. Just as he expected, (Y/N) threw him one last half-hearted glare for his teasing before she succumbed to her exhaustion, a small smile on her face as she curled into his warm body.

Levi found himself quickly falling asleep behind her, surprised at how fast she made him relax. He was so used to being an insomniac, especially during a storm where he felt paralyzed with fear and horrible memories, but (Y/N) was holding his demons back for him, keeping them locked away for the night, and he couldn’t be more grateful for that as he slowly slipped from consciousness and into a dreamless sleep.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” was the last thing Levi managed to say, the last thing (Y/N) managed to hear, before the pair fell into a deep sleep, wrapped up in their own little world together.

99 notes · View notes

shuttymcshutfuck · 3 years

Text

So deeply hurt

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker/Sasha James (polycule)

Type: Hurt/comfort

Word count: 2,039

TW: crying, hiding pain, fever, internalised ableism

A03 link

Now that he was closer Jon could tell it was a bad day. He could see the tension in Tim’s jaw, the way he swayed ever so slightly when he stood before righting himself, the fake smile he’s plastered on.

or: Tim's having flare up so they have a movie night.

Set vaguely in S1 or S2 but Sasha doesn't get not!them-ed.

As much as Tim joked around and slacked off, he was very rarely late. Especially not almost two hours late. Jon tried to relax as much as possible but with the concerned glances from Martin and Sasha every few minutes through the window in his door and the constant ticking of the clock in his office it was getting harder by the minute. But he had to stay professional, Elias couldn’t know about their relationship. Jon wasn’t ashamed in the slightest, he just didn’t want to get them all fired. Although, that didnt mean he hadn't sent off quite a few messages to him. All of which were unanswered. He was typing another when he heard a voice curse at the top of the stairs. Trying to look as casual as possible but presumably failing miserably, Jon grabbed his cane and rushed to the bottom of the stairs.

“Tim?” Through the fluorescent lights he could barely make out Tim sitting at the top of the stairs, crutches lying next to him. “Do you need a hand?” He tried to keep the worry out of his voice. They’d all agreed that none of them would make a big deal if Jon or Tim were using their aids. He wanted to respect that as best he could since he knew how bad it felt when people would keep pointing it out.

“Ah, no need. I got this!” Jon watched as Tim slowly slid himself and his crutches down each step before using them to stand. Now that he was closer Jon could tell it was a bad day. He could see the tension in Tim’s jaw, the way he swayed ever so slightly when he stood before righting himself, the fake smile he’s plastered on.

“Well, that was one way to do that. I’m sure Martin or Sasha would’ve been able to help.”

“Na, it’s alright. This building’s just inaccessible as shit. I doubt we would’ve been able to all fit together on those weird ass stairs anyway.”

“Well since you’re here now, there’s a statement on your desk I’d like you to look into after you’ve finished compiling the research from yesterday.” Putting his professionalism on as much as he could, Jon went back to his office leaving Tim to get settled at his desk. He shot Martin a quick text to keep an eye on him and tried his best to continue with his work.

Recording a few statements helped distract him for a bit even if he knew that they were all fake. Floating lights, a ‘disappearing’ man and walkie talkie feedback that sounded like words. It wasn’t long until a knock at his door brought him back to the present. “Come in.”

“Hey,” Martin, of course. “I’m going to the breakroom to make myself a cuppa, do you want one?” Jon never understood why Martin always lowered himself when he entered a room. It was like he was trying to take up the least amount of space possible.

“Yes, thank you. I’ll come along, I need to stretch my legs anyway.” Perfect, a completely professional reason to talk to him in relative privacy. “How has he been?” Jon set his cane beside him as he sat at the breakroom table, watching Martin go through the practiced motions of making tea.

“I’m not sure, he looks a bit peaky but he seems alright.” It was days like these that Jon struggled with boundaries the four of them had set. He knows that if Tim needs help, he’ll ask for it. But he also knows how stubborn you can become when you’re in pain, how frustrating it can be, how hard it is to ask for help. “In other news, I was thinking of having a movie night at mine tonight? Tim and Sasha are down, fancy it?” Jon brought himself back, this is something he could do. Something that would help.

“That sounds lovely but why don’t we have it at mine?” Jon took the cup Martin handed him and sipped, perfect as always.

“Uh, sure.” Martin looked a bit hesitant, probably because Jon usually doesn’t offer up his flat if Martin’s already offered. They all know Jon prefers their flats to his because then he can kidnap a jumper or cardigan to feel safer once he has to leave.

“It’s just, my flat’s closer and I think it’s best for Tim and I since there’s a lift.” He wasn’t lying persay, the lift would be better for the two of them but that wasn’t the only reason. He had supplies for bad days at his house. Heat pads, painkillers, ice packs, you name it. And he knew Tim was going to need it. He’d crash soon enough, most likely when they were all finally settled at Jon’s, so he needed to be able to help once Tim let them.

“Oh right, of course. Sounds great, I’ll let them know.”

-----

It wasn’t long until Tim popped into Jon’s office, struggling with the door slightly. “I’ve got that research for you, Boss.” Jon gestured to one of the seats in front of his desk which Tim took quickly. He pulled the file from his bag once he sat down and had his hands free again.

“Tim, I- um. Is there anything i can do?” Jon tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to sound patronising.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” So he was still in the stubborn stage, great. “I’m all set for the last hour work wise if that’s what you’re asking.” He stood and Jon could see him hide a wince.

“Okay, I’ll let you get on then. Thank you again for the research.” All Jon got in return was a nod before Tim was out the door as fast as he could be.

-----

The journey to Jon’s flat was nice for once, mostly due to Sasha driving them all instead of having to take the tube. But even just sitting mostly in silence it was comfortable. As soon as they were in his flat he wandered off to get changed into comfier clothes, urging them all to do the same. Once they were all back in the living room he spotted Tim in a familiar jumper, specifically the one Jon was looking for as it was nice and cosy but he left it with Tim. He looked like he needed it more than he did.

Stocked up with snacks and tea, bundled up in Jon’s duvet that he’d asked Martin to bring through, movie night began. After finishing La La Land per Sasha’s request and Howl’s Moving Castle per Martin’s request they decided to order some takeout.

“Tim, do you just want your usual?” Sasha was over at the table, notepad in hand with everyone's orders but his. The only answer she got however was a groan. Jon gently moved him off of his shoulder where he had been resting his head and it was only then he felt the heat coming off Tim’s skin.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Can you wake up for a minute for me please?” Jon watched him blink slowly and he swore he had fallen in love with him all over again.

“Is he alright?” Martin moved the duvet off of their laps and knelt at the feet of Jon and Tim. “Love, you’ve got a bit, uh-” Martin's gaze fell to Jon’s shoulder and when he followed he saw what Martin was clearly holding back a laugh at. Tim had drooled over his shirt.

“Martin, can you go into the cabinet in the kitchen, grab some painkillers, water and the thermometer for me please?” Martin’s face dropped so Jon rushed to calm him. “He’s okay, I think it's just a flare up. Take a breath, Love.” Jon watched him do as asked and head over to the kitchen. “Sasha, just order him his usual as long as it’s not too spicy.”

“Gotcha, I’ll be back in a minute.” She placed a kiss on Jon’s cheek then Tim’s, frowning slightly at the heat before heading to the bedroom to order.

“So, how are you really feeling? All of it, okay?” Jon kept his voice low and soft, channeling all the times Martin had calmed him down from a nightmare, all the times Sasha had comforted when the knock on his office door sounded too familiar, all the times Tim had helped him home once everyone had left because the pain was so bad.

"I'm alright, just being a drama queen as usual." Jon watched as Tim’s eyes filled with tears.

" Tim ." It seemed that Jon had finally chipped at his stubborn exterior just enough to let Tim breathe.

“I…Awful, it just hurts and I’m so tired, I don’t-” Jon pulled him into a hug as he finally let the tears fall, running a hand up and down Tim’s back while the other cradled his head.

“It’s okay, it's okay.” They sat there, Jon whispered sweet nothings until Tim’s sobs had calmed enough that he could speak “What hurts, Love?”

“Everything but my hips hurt the worst. It’s like they’re shooting pain down the rest of my legs.” Tim pulled back slightly and Jon let him, wiping away Tim’s tears with his thumb.

“Got them Jon, but if it’s a flare up then why do we need the thermometer?” Martin’s eyes flickered over Tim’s face and Jon could tell he was holding back his mother-hen instincts. He trusted Jon and it made his chest warm to think that he trusted Jon enough to let him lead.

“I’m just hot stuff, what can I say?” The joke made them both smile, breaking some of the tension.

“Sometimes during flare ups you can get low grade fevers, I just want to make sure it’s not too high.” Jon explained as Martin kneeled back at their feet.

“Alright, okay.”

“Martin, it’s okay.” Jon reached out and took his hand, the worry practically radiating off of him.

“I know, I’ve just never been around either of you when you’ve had a flare up before and-” Jon’s eyes fell to his lap, guilt slowly seeping into his bones. He could tell Tim felt the same, squeezing his hand slightly before interrupting Martin. “You have actually, as much as I don’t want to admit it, we are relatively good at hiding them. Which isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

Martin looked to Jon and he nodded. “Right. Well, we can talk about that later.”

“Okay.” He turned to Tim. “Is it alright if i take your temperature, love?” Jon was pretty sure that he would say yes but it was still good to ask, to make sure Tim was comfortable.

“Yeah, alright.” Martin handed him the thermometer and Jon put it in his ear, waiting for the beep before taking it out again and doing it to the other ear.

“Hmm, 38.1 and 38.3. Not bad but still could be better. Let’s get some painkillers and water into you. Sasha’s ordering food just now so you’ll have that soon too.” Tim took them without issues but seemed uncomfortable when Jon mentioned dinner.

“I’m really not hungry just now.”

“Nausea or just no appetite?” Jon didn’t want to force him to eat if he felt nauseous but he needed some form of food in him if he was going to take more painkillers.

“Appetite.” Good, that’s something at least. Something he can work with.

“Why don’t you try some food and if you don’t want what we’ve ordered I’ll make you some toast?” As much as he hated that Tim was in so much pain it felt nice knowing what to do for once. Pain was something he was familiar with, something he knew so much about that it was instinct to him now.

“Alright.” Jon stood up and motioned for him to move along the couch slightly and he complied. He got them situated so Tim was lying down with his head on Jon’s chest and legs over Martin’s lap. He felt Tim curl into him and sigh contentedly. “Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” Jon ran his fingers through Tim’s hair, watching as his eyes started to shut again.

“Of course, love. You know I’m always here.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #jonathan sims #cane user jon #tim stoker #tim stoker uses crutches #martin blackwood #sasha james #s1 polycule #jonmartimsasha #my writing

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mcrcki · 1 year

Photo

Was that [JESSIE MEI LI]? Oh no no, that was just [SOPHE HATTER-PENDRAGON], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE]. They are [TWENTY FIVE] years old, use [SHE/THEY], and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

how long has your character been here

just over a full year !!

what is your character’s job

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom

biggest update here !! sophie is now being pulled from the end of the entire series, aka the end of house of many ways. they remember everything that happened in the first book/movie, from the mess with the djinns, all the way to getting morgan safely away from the lubbockin. they’re pretty stressed, considering everything that happened during the gala and now knowing what happened to morgan and their family in the last few years. they’d like to just ! have a break ! thanks sm !

has any magic affected your character

it had but! she’s good, she’s cool, the magic has worn off and they fully remember everything! not that they’re very happy about remembering the gala and all of that, they are relieved to finally remember their family and all that happened during her time in high norland. so now, they’re back and better than ever!!

any other information

okay but a quick overview of what happens in house of many ways (although everyone should go read the whole series, esp the first book, it’s incredible. the second book is DATED but the third saves it) ANYWAYS. sophie is called to high norland, a neighboring kingdom, to help with solving some money problems the king and princess are having, she goes ON HER OWN THANK YOU, because they were called, they can handle it on their own, and they very much were looking forward to the week or two of silence and relaxation away from the castle. they love their son and their family, but god do they need the space every once in a while. unfortunately, howl.. is howl. and soon after sophie arrives in the castle, in comes morgan, calcifer and twinkle (the picture perfect image of a child..... with a lisp.) charmain -- the main character of this book-- is so fucking confused as to why sophie looks like she is about to throttle twinkle the second he comes waltzing into the room.

many more shenanigans take place, the person who attacked sophie’s child ended up being a half human child of a lubbock (a monster in this realm that LAYS EGGS INSIDE OF PEOPLE TO HAVE HALF HUMAN CHILDREN TO TAKE OVER KINGDOMS-- AWFUL) but they screw up, and try to take twinkle instead, thinking that’s sophie’s child. eventually they can’t quite keep twinkle under control , and they go for morgan.

sophie’s reaction is incredible, the only reason she didn’t take this guy out at the knees is because it’s a young ya novel. and howl had a plan.

they will not be taking responsibility for morgan knowing how to swear in two languages, that was unaware sophie, how were they supposed to know it was their kid.

either way, this is gonna be v much the same sophie we all know and love, except they’re a little older and little more confident in themselves.

connections :

✩ employees

she runs a flower shop, that does sell some clothing/hats on the side but it is mainly a bulk flower shop that will make arrangements for an extra fee.

it’s a very like ‘small business’ vibe kinda shop, so they treat their employees like family it’s a very nice place to work!!!

✩ friends

please she doesn’t have many ,, her best friends are literally a disaster man, her kids, and a fucking fire please come be their friend she would be the mom friend of your group and you cannot change my mind

would also actually love some legitimate mom friends

magical friends! please they’re so bad at controlling their magic, they just speak everything into existence.

✩ babysitter

doesn’t everyone wanna make a little extra cash?? especially when that charge would be a magical three year old with separation anxiety who definitely uses magic and speaks in welsh !!!

i promise they tip well

sophie would love a singular break for once so pls

#hw: intro #so. intro #long post tw #kidnapping mention tw #child death mention tw #--- this is vaguely mentioned but just to be safe #violence mention tw #death mention tw #again with this being like a fucking kids book #and these are the tags im putting on AN INTRO

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nothingbutimagines · 3 years

Text

Betrothed (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Knight!Peter Parker x Princess!Reader

Warning: Cursing and lots of angst

Summary: The young Princess Y/n is, on the outside, perfect in every way. She is high society, beautiful, educated, and cherished by all. However, the seemingly perfect princess is hiding a secret with that of a young knight, Peter Parker. Peter is upset, angry with Y/n when she is forced to choose between revealing the secret to stay out of an arranged marriage to a prince, or stay silent.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: This is the second part to Arranged. As always, requests are open and I’d love some new ideas from you all!

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

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“Why the long face, Princess? You shouldn’t be so sad on your wedding day.” Marceline asked softly, already knowing the answer.

“He is not coming, is he?” You asked, looking up at Marceline.

The older woman shook her head, her light grey hair falling into her face as her eyes grew somber.

“I don’t believe so, darling. Sir Peter told the king that he was too ill to help with the wedding and training the cavalry to be ushers. He’s been holed up in that little cabin for about a week.”

You sighed softly, your eyes looking deep into your reflection as you frowned, the tears prickling your eyes. You knew it was a foolish idea, to think that Peter would somehow wake up one day and forgive you for sending him away, for so easily throwing him away like a love letter from an old lover.

You had done everything to get him to speak to you, sending him letters, having some of the younger maids walk down to send him gifts since Marceline had trouble walking that far. You had even showed up at his door, teary-eyed and remorseful, begging for forgiveness only to be told to leave, to never come back.

Peter had done everything in his power to keep you away, and you knew it was wrong to be torn up over it, since you had done the same thing first.

“I don’t want to get married, Marceline.” You whispered, looking at the woman in the mirror.

“I know, Princess, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I wish it were different, but we mustn’t hold such pain in our hearts. We must look on the bright side, you do not have to leave the kingdom to be with your betrothed.”

“Yes, I suppose so. However, I would see Peter everyday. I would rather leave the kingdom than see Peter for even a moment.”

“Sir Peter told me he may leave the kingdom and live with his brother, the sheep herder, in Astoria.”

“Marceline, why wouldn’t you tell me this?” You snapped, turning fully to face the older woman as she took a step back.

“Princess, I didn’t tell you because I thought it would ruin your wedding day. Sir Peter also told me to wait to tell you until he was already gone, when the wedding bells tolled.”

“Why must you always follow the orders of Sir Peter?” You cried, the tears you were holding back finally flooding out. “Anything Sir Peter tells you should be told to me, we went over this before! God, I need to go, I need to find Peter.”

You pushed yourself up off of the chair using the vanity before you for leverage, your tears blurring your vision as you made your way to the other side of the room and slipping on your shoes. You were fueled by your anger, not just at the poor old milkmaid, but Peter as well.

“Princess, wait!” Marceline called out as you past her, her hand grasping for your arm as you turned to her, yanking your arm away. “You cannot leave. You are in your wedding gown and your father, the king, will be here any moment to give you away.”

“You can tell him I am on a walk.”

“It is not that simple, you know that, he is pacing up and down the hall, you will never be able to pass him.”

“Then I will outrun him. He cannot stop me.”

“Princess, he knows your distaste for this arrangement. That is why he wanted Sir Peter and the cavalry to be here, to keep you in the castle.”

“Then he shouldn’t have given me a dagger.” You replied simply, turning on your heel and opening the chamber door to come face to face with your father.

You cursed yourself for being so rude to Marceline as she was right, he was pacing in the corridor and now standing before him, you never felt so small.

“Y/n, my love, we must go. You were supposed to be upon the altar at three o’clock sharp and it is three-o-two.” Your father spoke softly, linking your arm in his before resting his hand upon yours.

“Father, I-”

“I know, love, you wish your mother was here. Believe me, I wish for that as well, but do not fret, I will be there for you.”

“Father, I don’t know if I can do this, get married.” You admitted, causing the older man to fall silent, leaving the sound of your footsteps as the only echo in the silent corridor.

“Y/n,” Your father’s voice was stern as he finally spoke, “you will be getting married. I will not allow you to ruin the sanctity of this kingdom and our good name just because you are infatuated with a knight.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“You know who I am speaking about, do not pretend you do not.” He snapped back at you as you finally reached the entrance to the cathedral. “I have known about you sneaking away to see Sir Peter Parker all these years. I had hoped it was nothing but a teenage romance, but it seems as though I was wrong.”

“How had you known and yet never told me?” You attempted to pull away, but his hold was tight on your arm.

“Do not speak back to me!”

You bowed your head in sorrow and shame, attempting to hide the look of fear that had fallen upon your face.

“I have heard the whispers between the housemaids, the way they snickered about you using their entrances and stairways and how it was almost romantic the way you had begun to see the handsome boy. Almost romantic! You knew I would never allow such a thing, yet you had done it anyway.”

“Father, I’m s-”

“Let me finish! I kept tabs on you, having that old milkmaid tell me what the housemaids were saying, what they were saying about you and Sir Peter Parker. That’s when I decided that it would be best to marry you off before you ruined this family’s name further. I had that boy help with the wedding in hopes it would tear you apart, and it had.” Your father sighed, leaning forward and knocking on the door for the ushers to open it. “Now, put on a smile. It is your wedding day.”

You swallowed harshly, unsure of what to say as you allowed him to drag you down the aisle.

“Smile.” Your father hissed, only moments after you started walking.

You complied, a faint smile now stretching on your face as you gazed down the aisle and to the altar, to where the prince stood, stoic.

When you were a young girl, you’d always imagined that when you got married, seeing your betrothed at the end of the aisle would have you feeling joy, warming your cold feet and filling you with the utter glee of marriage. You pictured your betrothed teary-eyed and smiling in a way that showed true love.

However, as you gazed into the blue eyes of the prince, you couldn’t feel anything but despair and could only feel your cold feet growing colder.

You allowed your father to kiss you, give you away as he handed over your numb fingers and palm to the prince, who guided you up the small altar stairs.

You gave the prince a small smile before sighing, your eyes moving around the chapel, trying to find Peter as if he would be there. As if he would show up and confess his love for you.

You felt foolish, so lost in your own thoughts and your quest to find the familiar brown curls and warm eyes of the knight, the prince of your heart, that you hadn’t realized the pause in the priest’s sermon.

“...if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” The Father announced, allowing for a moment of silence to fall upon the witnesses.

You held your breath, glancing up at the man before you, your husband to be before gazing back into the crowd. You allowed yourself to let go of the tension in your lungs as you saw the familiar brown curls peek out from behind the cathedral doors.

“I object.” You declared before you’d even realized the words had come from your own mouth and not the opened mouth of the young knight. “I cannot go through with this arrangement when my heart is in the hands of another. I’m sorry, I must go.”

You quickly stepped out of your heels, gathering your dress in your arms before rushing down the aisle, your eyes never breaking from Peter’s gaze.

“Sir Peter!” You called out his name, a hand raising to wave for him as he fully emerged from behind the door.

“What do you think I have assigned you to do?!” Your father bellowed from far behind you. “Retrieve her!”

Knights began to rise from their seats as your ran, hands reaching our to grab you from the sides of the aisle.

You slipped from their grasps, your dress tearing at the seams they attempted to pull you with and the sounds of your bare feet on marble filling your ears. You could only focus on Peter, brown eyed and soft faced Peter.

Your arm reached out for him, his hand grasping yours as he pulled you into the foyer.

“Peter, I-”

“There is no time for words. We must go.” Peter interjected, his grip firming on your hand as he pulled you down the corridor.

You both erupted in laughter, hands still gripping the other as you ran into the street and towards Peter’s horse.

“Princess, would you like to run away with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You grinned, throwing your arms around his neck before kissing him with the passion you wished you had had in the first place.

You pulled away from him as the screams and howls of your father and his knights erupted from the church, the men running towards you.

“I believe that is our cue to leave.” Peter chuckled, quickly picking you up and helping you on the horse before getting on himself.

You wrapped your arms around him as he guided his horse down the street, going as fast as he could away from the crowd that had started to gather in the street.

“Peter, I am sorry.” You finally spoke up, as the kingdom had disappeared into the background and you could no longer hear the howling of the crowd.

“No, Bug, I am sorry. I should have been more sympathetic to your situation and I should have never made it about myself. It was you that was forced into a marriage, not I.”

“Peter, you have no reason to apologize. I was the selfish one here. I did not think of you, not once. And I should have done so. I should have considered you before I made my decision.”

“It is alright, Bug. We both have things to feel sorrow for.”

His hand rested on yours, his thumb running over your fingers as silence fell upon you once again.

“Why did you come to my wedding? I had believed you were not going to come.” You finally asked, the question mulling over in your mind once again.

“I could not go another day without loving you.” Peter stated simply. “I could not go another day without you knowing that I loved you, even if you would spend your life with another.”

“You will never have to go another day without being by my side. I swear to you.”

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