#let me just sit on that throne for two seconds girl i’ll be quick
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desmina “i am now a god. ur god” soulesshorror
#hot topic gamer priestess spirit flips off former god of death in his own deathbed#because @batsymcchicken thought she was gonna be flipping him off in the final w5 cutscene#she would#i think her and kormir should kiss#i know she actually did shit but i’ll ignore that#both she and kormir only help kill things when they shouldn’t be (desmina tries to kill is and just taps out until the very last second)#dhuum is hotter than her and i want to learn to tank him even tho i’ve never ranked before#we did G3 tank and G2 KITE for ur ass and ur just gonna take the throne like that#let me just sit on that throne for two seconds girl i’ll be quick#why don’t u try doing g2 kite for once huh desmina
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A Heathcliff story
Chapter Five - Heathcliff’s Second Chance
For more chapters (x)
It was Saturday morning and a storm had drifted over London. Rolling gray clouds covered the city, releasing a torrent of rain and rumbling thunder. Freya sat in Melanie’s flat across London drinking a mug of lukewarm tea. Melanie made shite tea, so Freya just held it to be polite.
“Freya, sooner or later you have to tell me what happened,” Melanie said.
The two women were sitting on Melanie’s overstuffed blue couch. Melanie’s flat was a cluttered mess of trinkets from countries she had visited. She wasn’t a very tidy person, so clean clothes from her laundry bin were sitting out unfolded, books were overflowing from her shelves and occupying space on the floor. And momo, her fat tabby cat, was the king of this mess. Snoozing proudly on his throne of clean socks and underwear. The sound of thunder filled the room and then a flash of lightning followed.
“I slept with him,” Freya finally said.
“Girl, when I said, “fuck him over”, I meant black mail him, not actually fuck him,” Melanie said, laughing.
Freya didn’t laugh and continued to stare down at her mug of tea, gazing into the water, murky with over strained tea leaves. Melanie watched Freya closely, concerned for her friend.
“Freya, did he hurt you? If he did, you need to go to the police like right now,” Melanie said.
“No, he didn’t hurt me. It was just…he just…well, he asked me to experiment with something new…something I’ve never done in the bedroom before. And while he was talking dirty, while I was most vulnerable, he said something inappropriate about the job he and I are competing for,” Freya said.
“He didn’t…wow, what an asshole!” Melanie said, clenching her fists.
“That’s what I called him…I was so upset and he started to apologize, but then something happened and he just freaked out. He said “I will not be the death of you” and that I needed to stay away from him. So, I just left his flat,” Freya said, finishing the story.
“What does “I will not be the death of you” even mean? Such a drama queen,” Melanie said, rolling her eyes.
“He told me about his childhood and adolescence…he’s very damaged,” Freya replied.
“Yeah, I could gather that just from working with him,” Melanie scoffed.
“He was good,” Freya said, offhandedly.
“The sex? Okay…at least, it wasn’t all so terrible?”
“I just feel…dirty, from what I let him do to me…” Freya said, blushing.
“Why? Did you enjoy it?”
“I did, but afterwards it felt so degrading,” Freya said, meekly.
“Do you feel comfortable enough to tell me what you guys did?”
Freya felt awkward about it all, but she knew Melanie wouldn’t judge her.
“He, um, used nipple clamps, handcuffs and a virbrator…he put it up my bum,” she said, softly.
“Oh, snap. You know if Heathcliff wants, I’ll go over there right now and let him do that to me. He can degrade me all he wants. He’s such a daddy,” Melanie said, her eyes growing distant and filled with fantasy. “Sorry! I got carried away. It must have been very upsetting for you Freya, but don’t feel bad about enjoying kinky sex.”
“How am I going to face him on Monday?” Freya groaned, putting the tea mug down on the coffee table in front of the couch. She brought up her knees and held them against her chest.
“Don’t worry about that now, just take it easy. On Monday you just act as you always do, focus on work and ignore the personal stuff.”
Monday morning came soon enough and when Freya’s alarm went off she immediately started to fret over having to see Heathcliff. Her plan was to avoid him at all cost necessary. She did very well up until one-thirty when Edward, her manager, called her to his office. Thinking it was going to be just a quick chat, she made her way up to the executive floor.
“Hi Ed, what can I…” she said, entering his office then pausing in horror when she saw Heathcliff sitting across from Edward’s desk.
“Good Morning Freya,” Heathcliff said, causally.
“Ah, Freya…good of you to come so quickly, take a seat, will you?” Edward said, pointing to the chair next to Heathcliff.
As she slowly took a seat, her pulse increased, her mouth went dry and her legs turned to rubber. Freya kept her focus directed at Edward, trying her best not to make any eye contact with Heathcliff.
“I wanted to say the board has made their final decision. As you know, this Friday will be my last day at Enheb United and I’ll be officially retired. I would like to say that Heathcliff will become Enheb’s next Vice President of Distribution and Operations,” Edward said.
Freya felt a wave of shock hit her hard then be washed away by numbness. She heard the two men talking, but not the words they were saying. The night of being with Heathcliff replayed through her head when she was jolted back into reality by Edward.
“Isn’t that so, Freya?” Edward said again.
“I’m sorry?” Freya asked.
“That you’ll two will work well together, I think you’ll make a smashing team,” Edward said.
“Yes…smashing,” Freya said, softly.
“I think congratulations are in order, well done my boy,” Edward said, standing up from his desk to come around and shake Heathcliff’s hand.
In order to maintain her professionalism, Freya stood up as well. Still managing to avoid eye contact with Heathcliff, she congratulated him.
“Thank you, Freya. No hard feelings?” Heathcliff said, trying to catch her line of vision.
Freya’s eyes slowly came up to meet with his eyes and she noticed that he appeared unphased by the whole matter.
“Of course not,” she said, trying to maintain her professional voice.
“Well, now that’s settled, I’ll see you both tonight,” Edward said, clasping his hands together.
“Tonight?” Freya asked.
“Yes, we are having a company wide celebratory party not just for Heathcliff, but for a splendid sales quarter,” Edward said.
Freya walked out of Edward’s office in a daze, Heathcliff staying behind to speak with Edward further. Freya kept her composure all the way up until she got to her office. Then, sitting down in her ergonomic chair she put her head on the desk in her arms and cried. Heathcliff was now going to be her boss. What a disaster.
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“I’m not going, no way,” Freya insisted.
“You have to go, otherwise they’ll just think you’re a sore loser,” Melanie said.
“I can’t help but feel like I’m being punished,” Freya said.
“Punished, for what?”
“Just forget it,” Freya said, waving her hand.
“Hey, if you mean because you think you’ve sinned, that's a bunch of shit! You’re past your father’s preaching, Freya. Now let’s go. I’ll be with you the entire time, it will be fun,” Melanie said, trying to assure her.
Freya gloomy went along with Melanie to the party after work. It was just a few blocks from work at an upscale venue. When they got there, it was already crowded and the drinks were flowing. She spotted where Heathcliff was standing and went to the other side of the bar. Melanie and Freya got their drinks and chatted with a few individuals from the accounting department. After a few moments, Freya heard her name being called. She glanced around and caught sight of the CEO, Hans Nilsson waving her over. He was standing next to Heathcliff.
“Oh god,” Freya grumbled, walking over with a pretend smile on her face.
“Ms. Kristiansen! I’m excited, very excited!” Hans said. “You two will be my dream Logistics team, yeah?”
“Hello, Mr. Nilsson,” she said, shaking his outstretched hand.
“This man here, brilliant isn’t he?” Hans said, patting Heathcliff on the shoulder.
“Yes, he sure is something,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I know you’ll two make a great team, I’m absolutely thrilled,” Hans said and then moved on to the next group of people to chat up.
This left Freya standing awkwardly in front of Heathcliff. He took a sip of his glass, his eyes staring at her before he spoke.
“Good god, Freya, stop acting like it’s the end of the world,” Heathcliff scoffed.
“I’m sorry?”
“Look, I’ve been chosen, it’s over. But nothing’s really changed has it? We worked together before,” he said.
“Heathcliff, that’s not the reason…” she began.
A few other co-workers came up just then to wish Heathcliff congratulations. Instead of sticking around to plead her case with him, she turned abruptly around and stormed off to go find Melanie.
“Can we go? I can’t do this anymore,” Freya said, when she found Melanie.
“What happened?” Melanie asked as they both walked out of the party.
“He is acting like nothing happened between us,” Freya said, feeling sick to her stomach.
“What a wanker,” Melanie said. “Hey, forget about him. Go home, take a bath, drink a glass of wine and read a good book.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’m just so tired. Today has been so awful,” Freya replied.
The week went by and Friday came soon enough. Edward officially retired and Heathcliff took up the mantle. Freya would now be reporting directly to Heathcliff. She braced herself over the weekend, catastrophizing any and every scenario of working for Heathcliff. When Monday rolled around again she was called to his office around four-thirty. His assistant called and Freya stared at the desk phone as it rang before picking up with great hesitation.
“Hello,” Freya answered.
“Ms. Kristiansen? Mr. Earnshaw would like you to come to his office.”
“Sure,” Freya replied and hung up the receiver.
She made her way up to the executive floor with a dry mouth and moist palms. When she approached his office she saw that the door was open. She walked in to see Heathcliff standing and looking out the window, out over the city. He was on the phone.
“What the devil are you talking about? Tell them to fuck off or expand the floor space, it’s their bloody choice if they want to keep their contract with us,” he said.
He turned around briefly and noticed that Freya had entered the room.
“Whatever, that isn’t our problem,” he said, then ended the call.
“Freya, good you’re here. I wanted to ask you to prepare a presentation on all the warehouses we have contracts with, I’d like to see where we can cut costs.” He said, coming over to stand in front of her.
“Okay, I’ll get something to you by Wednesday,” she said, having difficulty looking him in the eye.
“No, get it done by tomorrow, I have to submit my report Wednesday,” he said, turning back toward his desk.
He took a seat as he looked at his mobile, texting something. Freya said nothing and left the room. She was beginning to get a taste of how working for Heathcliff was going to be like. And over the following weeks it would be miserable. He was turning out to be a micromanager, encroaching on whatever Freya was doing. Analyzing her work and making unwanted recommendations. All the while, he pretended that he and Freya never had an intimate moment or that he ever expressed his entire life story to her just weeks ago.
She didn’t understand it at all and complained to her therapist about it. Her therapist listened to Freya tell Heathcliff’s story and so the therapist gave her some insight on his behavior. She explained that Heathcliff experienced childhood abuse, both emotional and physical. His coping mechanism as an adult was to avoid vulnerability by being abrasive and hostile. This would disallow any meaningful relationships to develop in his life. Because, in his mind, he was protecting himself from rejection and abandonment.
“But Freya, please be careful. Sometimes a person like that can’t be saved. If he isn’t working on improving his behavior, it’s best to simply maintain the work relationship that you have with him,” her therapist said during one session.
Freya wasn’t coping well, so her therapist suggested she look for a new job. This didn’t seem like a terrible idea, though she was afraid it would upset Melanie. Just to see what was out there, Freya updated her CV. The calls came in and she was offered three different interviews. She took all three and two came back with offers. The one that was most enticing was a competitor to Enheb United.
“Wait what? You’re going to take it?” Melanie said, shocked.
“Yes, I’m sorry…he’s unbearable,” Freya said.
“Why don’t you just talk to him? Make him see that he’s being unreasonable,” Melanie pushed.
“No, he’s…he’s too stubborn, he won’t care,” Freya said.
Melanie didn’t like any of it. She was sad that Freya was going to leave. But Freya promised that she’d work on getting a job position at the same company for her. With that, Freya typed up her two week notice and submitted it to Heathcliff's assistant. An hour after she sent the notice her desk phone rang. Freya frowned when she saw it was Heathcliff’s assistant. Picking it up she was about to say hello when the assistant spoke rapidly.
“Hi, can you please get up here now? I just told Mr. Earnshaw about your notice…he’s…well, he is very upset,” the young woman said in a small voice.
Freya agreed and made her way quickly to his office. She felt bad for the young woman who was Heathcliff’s assistant. She didn’t want any backlash to fall on the young woman because of her actions. Arriving at his office, his door was closed and Freya hesitantly knocked.
“Come in,” Heathcliff’s muffled voice said.
She reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside. Just in case, she closed the door behind her. She walked only a few feet from the door and stood waiting for him to have a tantrum. He was sitting at his desk, glaring at her. She hated the fact that she thought he looked so handsome and when he pouted it made her a little randy.
“Freya, what the fuck?” Heathcliff said, standing up from his desk.
“Can you be more specific?” Freya asked, she was getting tired of his spoiled child behavior.
“Very funny. You, leaving? Why?”
“I received a better offer,” she said, lying.
The new job was good, but she’d lose about five grand in her salary.
“Ridiculous. Enheb United has the most competitive salaries. You didn’t get a better offer, you’re running away,” he growled.
“What does it matter, Heathcliff? It isn’t like you care,” she snapped.
“I care, I bloody care!” he said.
Freya shook her head adamantly.
“Then why do you act like we never slept together? Why are you micromanaging me to the point that makes me cry after work every day? Why are you tormenting me?!”
“Tormenting you?” he said, rounding the desk to stand in front of her.
Freya locked eyes with him, but was surprised to see them becoming wet with suppressed tears.
“Do not use that word,” he whispered, harshly.
“I’m…I’m going to go, you’re frightening me,” she said, backing up in an attempt to leave.
He stepped in front of her, backing her back into the office, pushing her up against the desk.
“No, I’m not going to just let you go,” he said. “You’re pathetic for quitting, do you know that? A little coward who is too weak to stand up for herself.”
He was up on her, looming over her. Freya pushed her hands up against his chest, trying to create a buffer between them. When he spoke his venomous words, Freya brought her hand up to slap him. Instead, he caught her wrist in midair and took his other hand to pull her tight against him.
“Heathcliff, let me…let me go,” she whimpered.
“Am I tormenting you now, Freya?” he growled.
His eyes were darker now, the deepest blue she had ever seen. She closed her eyes and begged for this moment to be over. Whatever light she had perceived in him was wrong. She had tested his fire and she got burned. Now she didn’t know what to do. But then his firm grip lessened and his forehead touched her own. She slowly opened her eyes and felt a few tear drops from his eyes fall upon her chest.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” he said, softly. “You’re not weak, Freya…I just…please don’t go.”
“Heathcliff, I need to understand…what’s happening with you?” she said, bringing up her hands to hold the side of his face.
Looking him in the eyes, she hoped he’d be forced to explain. As Heathcliff gazed back into her beautiful, pleading eyes, he relented.
“Cathy…remember I told you she had died in a car accident,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she said.
“That wasn’t true…she killed herself,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said, moving her hands to his chest again.
His arms moved to wrap behind Freya, holding her close to him as he looked down into her eyes.
“The day that it happened, she sent me an email. She had written a single note to explain her actions. But the email was meant only for me…to…to hurt me. She blamed me for her death. She said that I had forced her to take her life because I was relentless in my love for her. That I accused her for living her life, that I had tormented her,” he said.
Freya could now understand why he hadn’t liked her choice in words.
“I’m not telling you this to forgive me, but so you can at least understand why I am such a wretched creature,” he said. “And I could not bear it if my actions did the same to you. That night, when you said that your light had faded, it frightened me,” he said.
“Could you have not said all this to me sooner?”
“I know, I have issues with communication,” he said.
“You have a lot of issues, Heathcliff,” she said.
“That I am fully aware of,” he said with a chuckle.
“What now?” she asked.
“Please stay at Enheb United. I will do whatever you want, whatever makes your job the most easy. We will keep it strictly professional in the office…but outside of the workplace, I’d like to get to know you better,” he said.
“I’d say you got to know me very well already,” she said, blushing.
He tilted up her chin and became very serious.
“You were beautiful that night, I still think about it. Your moans of pleasure would make any man lose all his good sense,” he said.
“I want things to go slower, take our time, because…you really hurt me and I can’t lie, I’m afraid to give you another chance.”
“I understand, but allow me to try? I know I’m a disaster of a man,” he said.
“You really are, but…I kinda like it,” she said, slightly embarrassed.
“You like the bad boys, don’t you?” he said, laughing softly.
He looked at her again with great fondness, then gently kissed her lips. She loved how he kissed, even his soft kisses were very sensual. She liked how his nose pressed into her cheek and how his thick lips delicately took in her bottom lip. He broke the kiss and rubbed his nose across her own.
“Will you stay here, at Enheb?” he asked, making sure that she would.
“Yes, just stop being such a dick,” she said.
“You know when I first met you, you were very sweet…I see that I’m rubbing off on you,” he said, smiling.
requested tags - @omgeternal
#heathcliff au#heathcliff#wuthering heights#tom hardy#tom hardy fanfiction#tom hardy fanfic#tom hardy fan fic#black female characters
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heyy there!! can you do another part of the “reaction when you suck on their tongue but with Mikey, Rindou and mitsuya?
You have no idea how happy I am that my work's so well-received! So there's been more than one request for a part 2, but for different characters. This little dove, however, is the first one so I'll be doing this, then the other characters in later parts, alright? Alright.
Now *cracks knuckles* let's begin!
Reaction When You Suck on Their Tongue Part 2 (Sano Manjiro, Haitani Rindou & Mitsuya Takashi)
Sano "Mikey" Manjiro: (Bonten! Mikey)
You sure you don't need a chaser with that? Sanzu snickers from across you, pupils already blown wide from the pills he'd taken half an hour ago. The pure vodka sears your esophagus, a pool of liquid fire in your abdomen. Tears are springing up your eyes and you wince. Truly, it had been a horrible idea on your side to make bets with Sanzu, of all people. That man has had every drug imaginable enter his system and three overdoses later, is still standing. You should've known better than to order Spirytus, but Sanzu has a way of getting under anyone's skin, especially yours.
He knew you had more than several bones to pick with him after he coaxed Mikey into accepting a million-dollar drug deal with some shady Western cartel. Throughout Bonten's history, it was one of the more careless business trades you'd ever gone through, one that put Mikey in a precarious position. The cartel demanded Mikey's audience for the deal to be done, and while Sanzu reassured you that nothing would happen to their "King", that never stopped you from worrying your head off.
A part of you wanted the drugs and alcohol put him into a coma; you just had to hold your liquor until then. Yet this poisonous bastard is still standing, while you barely have the confidence to stand up straight. He's fucking crazy.
You eye the remaining shot glass. It's rim and ridges bounce the bright glow of the chandeliers above you, its crystal clear contents an elegant deception to those unaware. You suck air through your nose and grab it. Before you could down the last drink of your life, a slender hand slides to your shoulder.
You turn to face Mikey's lilac-rimmed gaze, the darkness swimming within sucking you in like a vacuum. Once he sees the flares of red across your cheeks and down your neck, his lips curl a little. Mikey hates alcohol with a passion; he told you early on that he abhorred its bitterness and how it hazed your mind.
Instantly, you cave under his disappointment, and none-too-gracefully drop your shot glass back on the counter. You barely had time to utter his name before he cups your cheek and kisses you. It's gentle, caring yet the pressure of his pecks stamp his dominance into your very soul.
He plunges his tongue into your booze-laced cavern, and you eagerly latch onto it like a hungry pup. He tasted of red bean paste, its sweetness a balm to your burning senses. He keeps a hand on your neck while you have your fill, biting your lower lip when you part.
You're panting, eyes glazed with wanton need. He strokes a thumb under your ear, and you smile.
You could drink all the alcohol you wanted, but nothing could make you drunker than Sano Manjiro's affection.
Haitani Rindou:
You frown to yourself as you waited outside the heavy steel gates of Roppongi's juvenile detention center. It's been six months since the Haitani brothers had been arrested because of Tenjiku. Along with the other Heavenly King named Mucho, they also scored a reduced sentence, and today will be their first taste of freedom in half a year.
You'd been forced to stay behind when the battle happened; Rindou told you that he didn't want to have to look after you while fighting. A cover-up for his worry, of course. The younger Haitani isn't known for being as emotionally apt as his older brother, yet somehow that rigidness of his is one of the things you love most about him. To this day, Ran still loves to give you both shit for it.
Rindou knew that you'd be pissed beyond belief once you got the news; he promised not to leave you alone again like last time. You didn't come to his trial nor see him when he got permitted for visitations. Ran is in a different cell, and he had nothing but time.
Of course, other than being absolutely furious with him, there were other reasons you couldn't come see your bone breaker of a boyfriend. With them detained, no one is left to defend their title as the Kings of Roppongi. No one except you, that is.
You're quite the force of nature yourself, even before meeting Ran and Rindou. Roppongi had been your stomping grounds since you were ten, and when they started making a name for themselves you refused to submit. Thinking back, it was quite a comical scene: a scruffy-looking little girl baring her teeth at two brothers who'd basically killed a man not too long ago. Despite how ruthless they truly are, they never stooped so low as to hit a girl, much less gang up on one to prove a point. Instead you became friends, and later on fell in love with the younger Haitani, and he with you. Together you ruled over Roppongi, and the rest is history.
So while your man stared at white walls in the slammer, you splattered blood across brick walls as warnings to those who thought they could conquer the city. All on your own, you reigned over Roppongi the entirety of their sentence, and now it's time for the kings to reclaim their throne.
You hear them before you see them; Ran's whimsical tones against Rindou's monotone rebuttals. They're wearing casual clothes instead of the jumpsuits, Ran's hair is in braids as always, but Rindou...
The extra inches of hair does something to you. It flowed around his face like a lion's mane, faded blue streaks shining in the noon sun. He's wearing contacts instead of his frames, and his jaw is sharper than you ever remembered it. Fresh out of prison, and he looks every bit the king of carnage you adore.
Licking your lips, you saunter over to them. The clacking of your heels turn their heads, and they smirk at you. You could see Rindou tense for a split second before reigning himself back in. Once you get close enough, you rear a hand back and slam it against his cheek hard.
Then you grab him by the collar and smooch him right in front of the jail gates. His recovery is quick, and he pulls you close in a vice-grip. You press a thumb down his chin and take his tongue right from his mouth. The light graze of your teeth against the flat of it earns a growl from Rindou. You left me again, you fucking asshole you hiss as you pull away. You doubted he really heard you though, because he dived right to your neck after your liplock. You sigh, meeting eyes with a disgusted Ran.
This man is going to be the death of you one day.
Mitsuya Takashi:
Throughout your relationship, Mitsuya is nothing but gentle. It almost gave you whiplash how different he is when he's with you and when he's with Toman. He's more than happy to bash some scumbag's face in, yet he couldn't look you in the eye if he shows up to school bruised the next day. You're one of the reasons he got so good at dodging blows in the first place-all of this just to keep you from remembering just how dangerously he lives.
His carefulness translated through his affections, most of all. He didn't hold you, he cradled you. When he kissed you, you could practically feel the repressed passion just burning beneath the surface. He treats you as if you were a dandelion on a windy day.
And while you thought his unspoken sentiments are nothing short of chivalrous and sweet, you also found it quite stupid. You knew what you were getting into when he sheepishly confessed, knew about him being a captain of Toman's second division. So naturally, you'd braced yourself for all sorts of chaos. Plus, only having to witness one side of him irked something inside of you that you couldn't quite explain. You'd made it perfectly clear that you loved him, bruises and all. Yet when he looked at you with such adoring lavender eyes, you couldn't bear to chide him for wanting to treasure you.
So, you decided to show him through other means.
You're waiting for him to finish inside the sewing club room. He's finishing the hemline of a kimono-a birthday present he's preparing for Draken early on. His eyelids hang low, but his gaze is as intense as ever. Nothing is said between the two of you, but you can't help staring at his pursed lips, now bitten red from his habit when focusing. You internally proclaimed your love for him yet again, unable to stop yourself from wandering over to his hunched form.
Just as he looks up from the sewing machine, you dive in with a kiss that, even you had to admit, is a little too intense to be this sudden. Yet you couldn't help it; even the simplest things he did could turn you into quite the sap.
He doesn't fail to reciprocate it, though. His lips, a little rough and a bit wet, switch from caressing your top and bottom lip each time you return to each other. Somehow, it ended up with you sandwiched between him and his desk, thighs on either side of his hips. His hands never stay in one place, smoothing down your uniform and rubbing your back. He never strays too far down your waist, and that tang of frustration sours your sweet little moment yet again.
Bracing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his jaw, you grind down hard against him. His mouth drops open in a barely contained moan, and you close your lips around his tongue. The noise he made when you licked at it could've put BL voice actors to shame. His fingers rake against the sides of your hips, jolting you out of your sultry scenario and into a bout of giggles. And while you sit there steaming in your embarrassment at ruining such a delicious moment, he simply gapes at what just happened, his face stained a pretty crimson.
Well, that was awkward...but you wouldn't have had it any other way.
#tokyorev x reader#tokyo revengers scenarios#tokyo manji gang#bonten mikey#sano manjiro x reader#mikey tokyo revengers#mikey x reader#haitani rindou imagines#haitani x reader#tokyo revengers mitsuya#takashi mitsuya#mitsuya scenarios#mitsuya takashi x reader
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Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (7)
all parts in the master list
Minimal editing. Also hit me with some predictions for the end of this and also any thoughts at all about it. Is it trash, is it good? I am curious about what you think!
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Matthew didn’t usually drink much during their time away from home. If the Flames won, he’d usually have a beer or two to celebrate and that was it. This past week had him consuming more alcohol than he had in a long time and he had no idea why.
The roommate situation put him on edge the moment he found out who he was going to be staying with and his mood soured even more when he discovered they’d have to share a bed so maybe that was why he was taking shots and downing beers like he was on summer vacation.
He remembered bits and pieces of the previous night: she kissed him and then disappeared, he continued to take shots long after she’d gone, they had a conversation about moms in their hotel room.
That was it though. He had no recollection of changing into his pajamas and crawling into bed. When his alarm went off, he woke up in bed alone and as he surveyed the room, he realized all her stuff was gone.
Sure, they were going home today but damn, she must have really wanted to get the fuck away from him. He wasn’t ready to acknowledge that it might have hurt his feelings a little bit so he pushed the thought away and began to get ready for the day.
*
The feeling of peace you got when you quietly closed the door behind you and wheeled your luggage away from the room you shared with Matthew Tkachuk was incredible.
The past week had been a roller coaster that you were dying to get off of and all you had to do was get through this last game and the bus ride home. That would be easy though, you’d have no interaction with Matthew during the game and you knew damn well he would rather cling to the top of the escape hatch on the bus rather than sit next to you.
It was finally over. Your mouth was practically watering at the thought of sitting down in your apartment, by yourself, with a bottle of wine, Netflix and Chinese takeout.
You watched as the Flames won the game and as much as you didn’t want to notice it, you did. Matthew was playing like shit, barely dragging himself around the ice as he tried to keep up with his teammates. His personal play was entirely unremarkable and you were sure he was going to hear all about it as soon he got to the locker room.
“How happy are you to be free of Tkachuk?”
“So fucking happy, you’ve got no idea!”
You laughed along with another of the assistants as the two of you helped organize the remaining luggage for the driver to load beneath the bus.
“He played like shit today, might be bummed you two aren’t going to keep sleeping together.”
“Oh, don’t even. ‘Sleeping together’ implies something entirely different that what we were forced to do.”
“I know, I know,” he shook his head and laughed easily, “but honestly, did you think about it? I know you two aren’t exactly besties but come on, look at the man.”
Did you think about it?
Of course you did. You thought about it multiple times. Matthew had stripped down in front of you, once completely and another time almost there. There was no denying that you’d gone to bed at least once thinking about what it would be like to spend the night enjoying yourself underneath him instead of sleeping next to his grumpy ass.
You were taking that shit to the fucking grave, though.
“He’s a complete prick, and I don’t know if you heard, but I slept on the floor a few days ago, so no. I wouldn’t fuck that man with your dick.”
That response sent him into a fit of laughter, “I mean I get that it was a rough week for you but I’ll be honest, I respectfully disagree. That pest could fucking get it anytime he wanted.”
“Gross,” you playfully rolled your eyes as the two of you finished your task, “spend a few hours with him not in a strictly hockey setting and I promise you’ll change your mind.”
“Doubtful!”
When all the luggage was loaded, the two of you made your way onto the bus. None of the players were there yet so you both took advantage of the back two rows that only contained two seats each. The entirety of the team didn’t completely fill the bus so you, stupidly, assumed you would sit alone on the trip home.
Shoving your AirPods into your ears, you opened Spotify and settled into both the uncomfortable bus seat and the several hours long trip home.
Not even ten minutes later, a body dropping into the seat next to you pulled your concentration out of your music and when you looked to see who it was that sat next to you, you couldn’t yourself from rolling your eyes.
Matthew Tkachuk gave you a tight smile before rummaging around through his book bag and producing a paperback book.
No he wasn’t. There was no way he was reading that. Dumb hockey bros weren’t into high fantasy. There was no fucking way he was reading ‘A Game of Thrones.’
He was though, and you watched him like a hawk as he parted the book where his mark was placed, almost halfway through, before you felt like you had to say something.
“You’re legitimately reading that book,” you pulled out an AirPod and gave him an inquiring look, “really?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I loved the show, figured I’d give the books a try.”
“They’re really good, much better than the show in my opinion.”
Matthew’s smile stretched across his face, “that’s what I’m thinking! I know I’m barely into it but the books are so much more detailed.”
It was a cute moment, the two of you sharing an interest, but you were determined to remain all business with him.
“Why’d you sit here?”
“I don’t know,” he ran a hand through his curls, “why not?”
A quick silence formed between the two of you before he tried again, “what are you listening to?”
“Uh, Bring Me The Horizon, you probably won’t like it.”
“Try me.”
Matthew handed you his phone and you opened up his Spotify account and typed in the song you were listening to.
“So the band is Bring Me The Horizon, right? What’s the song called?”
“Sugar honey ice & tea.”
“Okay.”
++
You settled into a comfortable flow with Matthew. One of your pods was in his ear as he read AGOT and listened to the whatever you were playing. He didn’t mind when you fell asleep on his shoulder, leaning his head against yours as he continued reading his book.
“Hey,” he was gentle, “wake up. We’re home.”
“What?”
“We’re back in Calgary.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Are you good?”
“Yeah, I just, yeah. Can you ask someone if they wouldn’t mind taking me home? My car’s here but I’m so fucking tired.”
“I can take you home.”
“Matthew, no, you cant. You need to rest. I’m fine, I’ll be fine. I’ll get an Uber or something.”
“No.”
He was firm in his response. Your eyes were heavy with sleep and you were in no condition to do anything on your own.
“Whatever, I don’t want to fight with you, dickface.”
Matthew chuckled to himself as he guided you into the parking garage toward his car. You let him open the passenger door and help you into the Audi.
“What’s your address?”
You mumbled it quickly, earning a smile and a “we live in the same building” declaration from him.
Far too sleepy to notice anything around you, you nodded in and out of sleep as Matthew drove from the area to your building. His quick glances in your direction were lost on you and it was only when he was trying to get you out of the car that you really woke up.
“Fuck, Matt, I’m so sorry. I’m just so exhausted.”
“I get it,” he helped you get your bags out of his trunk, “you didn’t have a great week and I had a lot to do with that.”
The two of you headed up to your second floor apartment in silence, you trudging up the stairs with little effort while Matthew followed you, making sure you didn’t fall.
“This is me. Where are you?”
“Oh, uh,” his cheeks lit up red as his eyes traveled toward the ceiling.
“Of course, superstar Matty Tkachuk lives in the penthouse on the top floor,” you teased, “if only we could all be so lucky.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your apartment,” he slid around you let himself in as soon as you opened the door and surveyed his surroundings, “I really like it.”
*
He didn’t expect her place to be so cute, but it was and he smiled wide when her black cat rubbed against his legs.
“He’s called Onyx.”
“I like him,” Matthew leaned down to scratch his ears, “who takes care of him when you’re gone?”
“My neighbor. She’s a sweet lady.”
“I’m glad."
“I’m sure this is peasant shit compared to your place, but we do what we can.”
He stopped petting Onyx and looked up to meet her eyes.
“I would never think that about anyone. Jesus Christ, do you really think I’m that much of a fucking asshole?”
She didn’t say anything, but her face turned beet red and she turned away from him before turning back again.
“I’m sorry. I’m so used to you being awful that any small morsel of kindness is unfamiliar. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. You should sleep though.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
He paused for a moment before breaking out in a big grin, “can I take Onyx up with me?”
“Absolutely not! Onyx is a heathen like the rest of us on the lower floors!”
“He deserves 360 degree views of Calgary.”
You paused, turning to look directly at Matthew.
“Do you have that?”
“Yeah.”
“I am so fucking jealous.”
“You can come up and see too, as long as you bring Onyx.”
“As much as I don’t like you, I’m absolutely going to take you up on that, Matthew.”
He hated ‘Matthew’ and she knew it. He had tried to correct her a few times but she wasn’t budging. He wasn’t going to argue now, though, because she was adorable standing in her own apartment with her cute cat rubbing against her legs and—No. No, no, no. Matthew did not like this girl because this girl was fucking terrible and she hated him.
Except, he did like her and she was the opposite of terrible and she had an adorable cat.
What the fuck was he doing?
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Merlin and Arthur bond like never before, and war preparations are being made
Morgana sees something... worrying
Part 3 of Merlin’s angry outburst.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
The next morning, everyone is up early. Merlin pays a quick trip to Gaius, to inform him of his and Arthur’s plan for that evening (earning a raised eyebrow and a concealed smirk) before meeting Morgana at the castle gates, and heading off.
Everyone is busy, and no one in the gang crosses paths for more than a few moments the whole day.
Merlin and Morgana spend almost the whole day at the Druid camp, learning what they can, and asking for healers. (Morgana gives her own raised eyebrow and smirk when Merlin requests the ingredients he’ll need to forge a mental link, but doesn’t say anything.)
Gaius is busy bustling around with the servants he was provided, instructing them on what herbs to collect, where they would be found, and how to harvest properly.
Leon has Elyan, Gwaine, and Lancelot, lead small groups of knights in opposite directions, tasked with heading to the outermost villages, and warning them of the potential danger. Leon himself and Percival stay behind, and continue to oversee training and organisation of extra patrols, and intelligence gathering.
Arthur has meetings throughout the day, mainly focused on the public announcement that would take place the next day, as well as letters to be sent to the lower town. News travelled fast in Camelot, but they wanted to make sure that everyone knew as soon as possible.
Gwen spent the day moving between the forgery, Arthur, and Gaius, making sure everyone had what they needed, and pointing out flaws or missed opportunities wherever she could.
The council may have hated her when Arthur was first crowned (”She’s just a serving girl, My Lord!”) but Arthur had shut that down quickly, and made sure everyone knew that Gwen was a trusted advisor, and was to be treated as such. And even if he hadn’t made that point, no one could deny that she was quick witted, and always made good suggestions.
The Gang gathers once again in the evening, dining together. A small hall off to the side of the throne room had become their sort of HQ, the place they congregated for meals and meetings for just the ten of them. There was only one door in, and they each had their own keys (the only ones made).
Each of them updates everyone on their progress, one by one.
Leon informs the group of when Elyan, Gwaine, and Lancelot are expected back (not for a while, it was a couple days ride to the furthest villages, and they had plenty of places to visit), and how the training is going.
Gaius happily reports that preparations for the infirmary were going quickly, even more so when he was joined by all the healers that M+M had brought back with them from the Druid camp.
Gwen tells that, whilst progress was slow at the moment, the forgery was expecting a large shipment of materials by the end of the week, and work would speed up drastically once it arrived.
Morgana reports that the Druids have only seen what she has, but they’ve promised to spread the word, and try to gather any extra information. They would be sending a few more healers once some more of the Clans had gathered together.
All in all, it’s been very successful. Despite the Kingdom only being one day into preparations for a full scale war, things are going smoothly, and none of them are feeling the pressure of panic in their skulls.
The meeting only lasts as long as dinner does, everyone still having important tasks to complete before it was time to sleep.
Other than Merlin and Arthur, Gaius is the last to leave the room, looking back and saying (with a raised eyebrow, of course):
“I’ve left everything you’ll need in The King’s chambers, do you wish for me to join you and oversee it, in case?”
Merlin replies first (not quite sure why he’s blushing):
“No, no it’s fine. Thank you Gaius. We can always send a guard for you if we need anything.” With that, Gaius heads off, and with a deep breath, Merlin stands, and gestures for Arthur to follow.
They make their way to Arthur’s chambers quickly, the silence just a little uncomfortable. Both of them wondering if they should ask the other if they’re sure one last time. Neither of them say anything.
They enter the rooms to see that Gaius has indeed placed everything neatly on the table, one of his old books lying open on a specific age, and two pain relief potions set to the side.
“Merlin are you-
“I’m fine with it, but are you-”
Both of them speak at the same time, before chuckling quietly and pausing. Merlin is the first to speak again:
“It’ll only take a few minutes to put everything together, but then there’s a spell to be said by both of us-”
Arthur widens his eyes in slight panic at that, but Merlin interrupts before he says anything:
“Don’t worry, you can just repeat after me. You’ll have to copy the symbol as well, I’ll need to paint something over your heart, and then you’ll have to paint the corresponding one over mine, you can copy from the book.”
Arthur takes a deep breath in an effort to calm his nerves (it doesn’t work) before replying to a now busy Merlin:
“I’m not magic and I... what if I get it wrong?”
Merlin looks up from the table, and smiles gently before responding:
“Nothing. I mean we’ll probably still get a headache, but other than that... we’d just have to try again tomorrow. No big deal.” He shrugs before looking back down at everything on the table.
Arthur watches him with interest and sits on the opposite side of the table, trying to get a peak at the words or symbols in the book.
After a few minutes, Merlin has a sweet smelling paste in a bowl and two paintbrushes in his hand. He walks round the side of the table, pulling the book towards him, still open. He grabs a stool and stands it in front of him, where he puts the bowl and paintbrushes.
He gestures for Arthur to stand opposite him, and unlaces the loose tunic he’s wearing. He pulls it to the side, exposing the space on his chest over his heart, indicating for Arthur to do the same.
“Right. Our left hands go on the back of each others head,-”
(Arthur struggles not to swallow at that, and nods, pushing the blush down)
“-and they need to stay there the whole time. Our right hands need to be holding a paintbrush each. They need to be over the bowl, crossed over one another, yours on top. I’ll say the spell, bit by bit, you repeat after me. When we speak we need to look at each other. Once the vocal spell has been cast, it’ll get a little glowy in here, but just ignore it, alright? After that, I’ll touch my brush to the paste. You don’t need lots, and the symbol needs to be painted in one motion, so don’t panic if you run out, it doesn’t matter, just keep going. I’ll paint the symbol at the top of the page on your chest, you need to hold still though, keep your hand in place over the bowl. Once I’ve done, I hold my paintbrush over the top of yours, you lower yours into the bowl, and then paint the symbol at the bottom of the page, onto my chest. We don’t have to hold eye contact for that, so you can look down as much as you need to, to copy it right. After it’s done, both paintbrushes can be put down, and we touch foreheads over the bowl. That’ll be the spell done, and we can move back, the pain will only start after all that has been done, and it’ll only last a few minutes, before it begins to lessen. Gaius left us some pain relief. We can practice actually talking to each other later on. Understand all of that?”
Arthur thinks for a just a second, before nodding. He’s very much grateful for all his knight and noble training at this point, he has a good memory for detailed instructions, good enough that not even his nerves could make him forget what to do.
Merlin seems completely unfazed, I suppose because A) in the grand scheme of things, it’s a very simple spell, and B) he’s focussing more on the magical aspect than the fact that basically every step of this spell, was increasingly intimate.
Arthur tries to force his mind to do the same, as Merlin receives his nod. The Sorcerer picks up his paintbrush, and cups the back of Arthur’s head, nodding at Arthur to do the same.
Arthur follows his instructions to the letter. He concentrates so much on repeating exactly what Merlin said, and painting the symbol exactly like it was drawn in the book, that he doesn’t notice Merlin’s fond smile on him.
Arthur has always pursed his lips slightly when focusing, and it’s one of the many small mannerisms that Merlin struggles to look away from.
It comes time for them to touch foreheads, and Arthur takes a deep breath as he feels Merlin pull him forward (and he does the same to Merlin).
They hold eye contact, and Arthur has to hold in a gasp at the feel of Merlin’s magic flowing through him from the moment their heads meet. Merlin holds them there for a few seconds, before letting go and stepping back, Arthur following suit.
Within seconds, both of them are doubled over and groaning, hands clutching their heads as the feeling of warm, gentle magic is replaced by a splitting headache.
Like Merlin had said, it only lasted for a couple minutes at that high intensity, but it feels like forever.
At long last, the stabbing agony turns into a dull ache. Still in a great deal of pain, but not so much that they can’t open their eyes and head over to the table to down their pain relief potions.
At Arthur’s vague gesture, the both of them head over to the two armchairs in front of the fire, and they collapse in their respective seat, each holding their heads in their hands.
(Arthur had the second comfy chair moved to his chambers after a year or so of Merlin always sitting in his, when he first stated working for him. Merlin noticed, but never mentioned it, and the new chair, though it was never said out loud, became his.)
Arthur speaks (more like groans) after a few minutes:
“I thought those potions were supposed to help?”
“Well, it’s magical pain. Curing it isn’t an exact science. Plus the pain is sort of part of the spell, it’ll have mostly faded by the morning. I can always put together something stronger if it stops us from sleeping.”
Arthur looks up at Merlin for the first time as he begins to speak again:
“So... did it work? I feel a little odd but I don’t know if that’s the headache, or whatever happened when we touched heads, or what?”
Merlin looks up, and raises his eyebrow, before saying, wordlessly:
“Yeah. It worked.”
Arthur widens his eyes at that, before scrunching his face up (Merlin just about manages to not laugh at him) in concentration, and staring at Merlin intensely:
“Am I doing it? Merlin can you hear thiiiiiiiis? Merliiiiiii-”
Merlin laughs, before actually saying:
“Yes. Gods shut up Arthur, yes you’re doing it. It’s not exactly difficult.”
Arthur joins in his laughter:
“Sorry sorry, I just wanted to make sure. What now, is that?”
“I mean, yeah, we should probably-” he huffs slightly:
“We should probably practice. You need to get used to doing it over longer distances, and whilst we’re concentrating on other things, so you don’t get caught off guard. We can just keep each other updated across the day tomorrow, that should be plenty of time for you to get used to it.”
Arthur puts his “concentration face” on again as:
“Yes you’re probably right. Just don’t say anything stupid whilst I’m in a meeting, can’t be distracted by your idiocy.”
Merlin smirks slightly, but Arthur sits up straighter, and interrupts him before he can say anything:
“Can we do the same with images? Like could we show each other what we were seeing? I imagine that would come in very handy.”
Merlin furrows his eyebrows slightly:
“It’s headache inducing, and takes a lot more energy and concentration, but we could, if it was an emergency. I’ve never done it before. We’ll have to practice at some point, if we get a quiet day.”
Arthur nods in thought, and waves around the room, focussing on the window and the laid, but cold, fireplace:
“Could you...?”
Merlin nods his head, his eyes flashing gold as the curtains draw themselves and the fireplace bursts in to roaring flames.
“Thank you.” is spoken is Merlin’s head as Arthur once again puts his head in his hands, grumbling as he rubs his temples. The conversation had helped distract for a moment, but both of them still had terrible headaches.
“Something tells me it won’t take long, you’re already using it like it’s second nature. Though you’ll have to keep an eye on that, remember we have to actually speak out loud to other people, still.”
Arthur hums, but doesn’t look up. Merlin takes that as a cue to end the conversation, and uses magic to wave over the book he was currently reading.
The Sorcerer pulls his feet up on the chair (his chair), and settles in to read another chapter, opposite from the King, who stares into the fire, deep in thought.
Arthur doesn’t take anything that the war declaration said to heart, he knows he’s done right by his people, and on good days, he’s even proud of his accomplishments, as opposed to feeling like he’s still atoning for his father’s evils.
But still. The fact that someone was this opposed to Camelot’s new found prosperity was disturbing, not only politically, but personally. What of the people under this neighbour-tyrant’s rule? Are they suffering? They will surely feel the fallout of this war more than Camelot’s people.
Arthur was caught between guilts. It would be far too dangerous to offer refuge from this tyrant’s rule, it would undoubtedly be taken advantage of by spies and usurpers. But could he, in good conscience, leave those people to suffer under whoever would replace him? When Camelot inevitably prevailed?
These thoughts plague Arthur for a while, and he’s only broken from his spiralling worries when a thump to his side, has him look up rapidly.
He lets out a quiet chuckle as he realises Merlin has fallen asleep in the other armchair (in Merlin’s chair), the heavy book dropping to the floor.
Arthur gets up quietly, stretching his back, and noting that while his head still hurts, it isn’t nearly as painful as it used to be.
He wonders over to his bed, dragging two blankets back to the chairs by the fire.
One, he drapes over Merlin.
Arthur stands over him, and gently strokes the hair back from his face, smiling fondly as his former-manservant shuffles slightly, leaning into his hand, and mumbles unintelligibly in his sleep.
The other, he wraps around himself before settling back into his own chair, resuming the contemplative staring into the fire. Though this time, he’s thinking on the gap between him and Merlin, and how small it had gotten over the years.
You’d think that such a train of thought would be focused on the big things: the battles, the near death experiences, the emotional speeches... the outburst in the woods. But no. They barely crossed his mind. Rather, Arthur was thinking on the small things: the small smile Merlin saved for hurt children when he called them brave, the fire in his eyes when he challenged an arsehole councilman, the pride on his face when Morgana succeeded in her lessons.
Knowing of Merlin’s magic had been an important stepping stone, but a stepping stone nonetheless. Since then, in the time that had passed, he had learnt all the seemingly unimportant things that made Merlin, Merlin.
His favourite colour was blue (blue like the sky and blue like Avalon and blue like the cover of his favourite book (blue like Arthur’s eyes, not that Arthur knew that)).
His favourite season was spring (spring with flowers and baby animals and the world breathing around you. Arthur could almost see Merlin vibrating in time with the world at spring, which didn’t surprise him, once he learnt how tied to nature his magic was).
His favourite holiday was Yuletide (Yuletide with family and dancing and singing and true freedom, all ending in a new beginning, the world getting to start again, in a small way).
His birthday was the first day of the new year (truly, a new year, and a new beginning).
His favourite food is blueberries (but really, he loves any sweet fruit. Never one for actual candy though, maybe he just wasn’t used to such luxuries. Arthur found himself wanting to provide Merlin with every luxury he could ever want).
His childhood was full of mischief and fear (running around pranking people with Will all day, and going home in the evening to find nightmares filled with red cloaks and smoke and a pyre just for him).
Arthur had spent the last nine months making sure that Merlin would never have such nightmares again. He came damn close to changing the Pendragon colours when Merlin told him of the Red Cloak detail.
Before long Arthur also finds himself nodding his head, but moving to his bed means waking Merlin up and sending him away, and honestly? Arthur would happily wake up with a crick in his neck, if it meant he could fall asleep to the sounds of Merlin, gently snoring through the night.
With that final thought, he finally drifts to sleep in his armchair, warmed by the fire, and Merlin’s presence.
~
The next morning, King Arthur, flanked by his Court Sorcerer, his Court Seer, and his First Knight, announces to a large crowd the news of the impending war.
The people are worried, but he speaks to them honestly, and they respect that. Arthur tells them of the preparations being made: the outer villages already being warned, the partnership with the Druids, the preparations of both medical supplies and the tools of war.
As they thought, word spreads quickly. The city is bustling with people. No matter the war declaration, work still has to be done, but the air is abuzz with gossip and chatter. Arthur is thankful, for the lack of panic, and sends a grateful smile to Merlin when:
“You did good. They respect, and trust you. Be proud.” echoes in his head.
~
Time passes
After a week or so, the first refugees from the outer villages start arriving, and a few days later, Elyan, Gwaine, and Lancelot make it back, having delivered the notice to all of the outlying settlements.
Like Gwen had said, work in the forgery greatly sped up, and the armoury was being stocked up.
With the help of all the Druid Healers, Gaius’ preparation of the infirmary was going quickly, and he was pleased with the progress.
Morgana was seeing bits and pieces of what The Magicians (M+M and the Druids, named by Gwaine) interpreted to be the big battle, but weren’t seeing how it would start, or how it would end.
It took the people of Camelot (including Arthur) a while to get used to it, but Merlin also had Kilgharrah and Aithusa doing daily fly overs of the whole kingdom.
Magic wasn’t illegal in the opposing kingdom, but was taken advantage of by the crown, and Merlin didn’t want to risk them sneaking up on Camelot somehow, without anyone noticing until it was too late.
Merlin did indeed check on the tunnels like he wanted. He made doubly sure that he knew where all the exits were, and the best ways to defend them. As far as he knew, no one outside the castle knew they were there, so they could be used as an emergency evacuation plan, hopefully with the opposition taking a while to catch on.
Though Arthur liked to remind Merlin that that sort of action probably wouldn’t be necessary. The fighting would hopefully take place no where near the actual city, and even if they did, Camelot was still stronger than their opponent.
Over this time, Merlin and Arthur continued to take advantage of their mental link. Unless in the presence of other people, they spoke almost exclusively in their heads.
Arthur’s poker face was getting much better as well. Merlin's constant snarky comments during council meetings was definitely the main source of practice.
It was during such a meeting, that Morgana burst in, and looked between Merlin and Arthur frantically, before saying:
“I’ve seen it. It’s coming!” Arthur reacts first, yelling at the council:
“Everyone out, right now!-”
He then turns his attention to one of the guards:
“Go fetch Sirs Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, and Lancelot. They should be on the training ground, hurry!” (luckily, this was a rare meeting that everyone else in The Gang was already attending)
With that the guard rushes out, and the remaining members of the council (Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, Merlin, Leon, and now Morgana) rush to their side room.
As they enter, Merlin’s eyes flash gold, and he waves his hand, pushing the table and all but one of the chairs to the side of the room.
The last chair he moves to sit right in the middle, and Morgana quickly settles on it, closing her eyes.
A few minutes later, the knights come rushing in, Gwen murmuring quietly:
“Morgana has seen something, I think her and Merlin want to try and show us.”
Merlin nods to Leon, and he locks the door behind him.
The Sorcerer thrusts his arm towards the floor, and mutters a spell under his breath. His eyes flash gold, and soon enough, the room is filled with steam so thick, no one can see even a foot in front of them. They hear Merlin speak through the fog:
“Alright Morgana, just like we practiced. Focus on what you saw, and push it out of your mind, and onto the steam. Keep your breathing slow, and try to keep things chronological, clear your mind and think of nothing else.”
Morgana hums, and the group hear her take a deep breath (certainly calmed by the fact that Gwen and made her way to her, and had placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, receiving a grateful smile from Merlin).
Within moments, everyone begins to see shapes moving in the fog, and hear sounds echoing around the room.
It takes a minute or two for things to come into focus, and the fog seems to sharpen. The Gang find themselves stood in the middle of a field, all in grey. Everything is slightly blurry, and if they squint, they can see the walls of the room around them through the illusion. Arthur speaks:
“This is where the battle happens?-”
A nod from Morgana, who still sits in a chair with closed eyes, prompts Arthur to continue:
“Does anyone recognise it?” Gwaine speaks first, snapping himself out of the shock at what was happening:
“Yeah, I do. I rode through it on the way back from handing out the notices. It’s a huge meadow maybe a three days ride to the North?”
Before anyone can reply, figures, also in grey, start to fade in around them, the first to come into focus being Merlin, closely followed by Arthur stood next to him. The real Arthur stares, obviously slightly disconcerted:
“Ok... that’s a bit weird...”
The fog!M+A look serious, glancing at each other quickly and nodding, before walking in opposite directions.
Fog!Arthur fades, the scene following fog!Merlin as he stalks across the field, before stopping suddenly. He frowns slightly, before seeming to look straight at real!Merlin, and saying:
“I’m sorry. But it’s coming. I can’t stop it, I tried. This is the only way. Just... relax... it’ll hurt less. Four days.”
Real!Merlin frowns, but gasps and takes step back as fog!Merlin looks at him meaningfully, before taking a deep breath and turns away, continuing to walk.
The weather changes, beginning to rain, and if everyone wasn’t so preoccupied by what had just happened, they would’ve laughed at fog(future?)!Merlin going “Oh for fucks sake, why am I always right?” under his breath.
Suddenly, the scene changes entirely.
On the floor lies a body, on his side, but face down, a sword through his back, poking out through his chest. Whoever it was had been attacked from behind. Rain still pours.
If anyone had looked up, they would’ve noticed the meadow completely free of other bodies. A battlefield that had apparently held only one fight.
The Gang jumps, as they hear a yell, and turn to see fog!Arthur race towards a figure no one had noticed.
Fog!Arthur cuts them down quickly, barely paying attention, before falling to his knees next to the body:
“No.... no no no, Come on Merls, don’t do this to me.”
Everyone apart from Merlin gasps at this, watching as fog!Arthur turns the body over.
A vacant fog!Merlin stares up at the sky, unmoving, eyes glassy, blood trickling from his mouth, as fog!Arthur continues to mutter to himself unintelligibly.
Before anyone can react, the scene fades again, completely this time.
The fog melts into the floor, the room around them revealed again, as Morgana slumps in her seat, breathing deeply.
No one looks away from the spot where Merlin’s body had been until Merlin interrupts the tense silence:
“That’s not... good.” He doesn’t look scared, despite finding out that he would apparently die at some point in the near future.
Everyone looks up at him in shock, tears in Arthur’s eyes, and fear and sadness in Morgana’s, but before anyone can say anything, he speaks again:
“There’s a storm brewing at the moment, it should start in about four days, that’ll be what he... what I meant earlier. No armies. That would explain why Morgana hasn’t seen the original Bloody Battle visions in a while... no battle? Hmm.” He seems to be muttering to himself, but looks up as Arthur grabs his shoulders:
“You won’t be going. You can stay back and help at the main infirmary.”
Everyone nods in agreement, but Morgana shakes her head, before saying (obviously tired):
“That’s not how it works. The more.... solid, my visions are, the more likely they are to happen. I’ve never had a vision that clear. And you heard what Merlin... or Future Merlin, said. This is happening.” She looks to Merlin with fear in her eyes:
“You’re going to die. In four days.”
The room once again looks to Merlin, all very confused at why he looks more thoughtful than anything. He shrugs off Arthur’s hands and paces slightly. He let’s out a thoughtful hum before looking at Morgana:
“I don’t suppose you can remember anything about that sword? Did it seem strange to you or... just a sword?” At Morgana’s confused expression, he points absentmindedly to his own chest.
Arthur interrupts:
“What does that matter? It was a sword, Merlin, through your chest. I don’t care what either of you say. We’re keeping you away from that meadow. I’ll lock you up if I have to, you’re not going.”
Merlin looks at him apologetically:
“Of course it matters. Depending on whether whoever that sword belongs to has done anything funky to it or not, I’ll just wake up again-”
He waves his hand casually:
“-and besides. You have nothing here that I couldn’t break out of, Arthur. There really are only one or two things that can tie me down properly, and I’m sure as shit not gonna tell you what they are now. Morgana? The sword?”
She looks shocked at his casual approach before replying:
“Uhh... it didn’t feel evil or anything. It just felt like a sword, but I wouldn’t bet on it. You’ve seen how my meditations have been going recently, not everything is in focus, I could have missed an enchantment easily. I would tell you not to risk it but.... I know you. And that vision was clear. Nothing is going to stop you from... that.”
Merlin nods thoughtfully, but Arthur seems to be getting more panicked, but before he can speak, Leon interrupts:
“Wait... backtrack a minute. What do you mean “wake up again”? Merlin there was a sword through your chest. That was very much a... killing, blow.”
Merlin sighs and looks around the room, finally seeming to notice how horrified everyone looked:
“You guys... remember that I’m immortal right? Unless someone stole one of my dragons without me realizing, and made another Excalibur type weapon, again, without me realising... then I should be fine.”
Arthur bursts, grabbing Merlin once again:
“Merlin that... that was not fine! The future me was freaking out, and you weren’t waking up! There has to be another way. I won’t risk it.”
Merlin ignores him, looking instead to Gwaine:
“You said it was a three days ride away? To the North?” Gwaine nods hesitantly, and Merlin looks towards Leon:
“Have the army gather outside the city gates, but tell them that they’re not going anywhere. It looks like me and Arthur are going to be able to sort this out without any... or... you know... without any permanent bloodshed. But they should be ready just in case. Morgana, take tonight to rest, and build your strength. You’re going to be staying here, the last line of defence, if it comes to it.-”
He’s interrupted by Elyan:
“NO. Look I saw it as well as anyone in this room. But we are not leaving you. We are a family, we hold Camelot in our hands, and we won’t leave you to do this alone. We’ll all be there. You want us to stand back and watch? Fine. But you and Arthur are not doing this without us. Not this time.”
Morgana forces herself to stand, with Gwen’s support. Everyone in the room gives a decisive nod as she speaks:
“He’s right. Nothing you can do, Lord Emrys, will stop us from following you to that meadow.” Merlin looks about to argue, but she narrows her eyes at him, and he deflates.
He looks around the room, at his family, and sees their faces. All set in stone. They had just seen his body, and they weren’t going to let him do it alone, not this time.
He nods slightly, pretending that his eyes aren’t filling with tears. He reaches up and squeezes Arthur’s hand, still on his shoulder, as he sadly smiles:
“...Ok. I... thank you. If we want to get there in time, we’ll need to leave today.”
“We need them all distracted so we can slip away.” echoes through Merlin’s head, but before he can respond, Gwen speaks up, her voice strong and determined:
“I’ll go tell the stables to get our horses ready immediately, and grab some supplies from the kitchen. Everyone meet in the courtyard in half an hour.”
Percival:
“I’ll go to the stables, you head straight for the kitchens and I’ll meet you there after and help.” Gwen gives a firm nod, and the two of them leave. Gaius speaks up next:
“I’ll gather some medical supplies, and fetch some things from my chambers, and then let the infirmary staff know what’s going on.” and he leaves without waiting for a response. Morgana speaks up next:
“I’m going to grab a change of clothes for everyone. You (gesturing to Arthur) need to grab your armour.”
She looks to Elyan questioningly:
“Yeah I’ll help. I’ll grab spares for the knights, you grab something for yourself, Merlin, The King, and Gwen.” The two of them leave, exiting the room and heading in different directions.
Arthur speaks next, but directs it to Leon:
“Have the armies gather around the city, the bulk of the force on the North side. Tell them what’s happening. Hopefully we won’t need them but... if we fail, they need to be ready.”
Leon says nothing, but gives a firm nod, and marches out of the room, heading to ring the emergency bell at the training grounds.
“Well that wasn’t too difficult. What about these two?” Is what manifests in Merlin’s head this time, and he replies quickly:
“I don’t know, but quickly. If you take too long, they’ll know you’re just coming up with excuses to get rid of them.”
Arthur looks to Lancelot and Gwaine, but before he can say anything, Gwaine laughs and interrupts him:
“Absolutely not, princess. There’s nothing left to be done, you two just want to sneak off without anyone noticing, and we won’t let you.”
Arthur huffs at that, and Merlin raises an eyebrow at him:
“I told you they wouldn’t fall for it.” Arthur gives his Sorcerer a withering glare:
“Shut up, Merlin.” Merlin just laughs in response, ignoring the confused looks on Gwaine and Lancelot’s faces.
Lancelot drops the look, and speaks:
“Ok I don’t know what that was, but Gwaine’s right. ALL of us, are going to your chambers so you can get your armour, and then ALL of us are heading down to the courtyard.”
Arthur huffs once again before marching from the room, his Sorcerer and two knights trailing closely behind him.
~
As agreed, 30 minutes later, all of them are gathered in the courtyard. Morgana and Elyan had packed each of the horses with spare clothes, and the food that Percival and Gwen had bought.
It wasn’t much, but it would do them for the first night, they would definitely have to hunt whilst they travelled, but that’s not unfamiliar to them.
With one last look at each other, they ride out towards the Northern City Gates, Arthur leading the way.
After Leon had informed the knights of what was going on, he had called an emergency council meeting, and informed them as well. They weren’t happy, but Leon put his “in-charge” voice on, and told them to deal with it.
They reached the gates, and Arthur nodded at a grave Gwaine to take the lead. Not a word has been spoken since they met up in the courtyard, and they ride out in silence.
Merlin glances at Arthur next to him:
“Everything is going to be ok, Arthur.”
He gets no response.
I feel kinda bad leaving it there, but just like I thought it would, it was getting a tad too long.
THIS IS COMPLETED!! Part 5 (final part) has been posted.
If y’all want my thoughts on anything specific, let me know :)
#merlin#bbc merlin#merthur#arthur#king arthur#merlin/arthur#court sorcerer merlin#sir leon#leon#sir gwaine#gwaine#sir elyan#elyan#sir percival#percival#sir lancelot#lancelot#druids#arthur knows about merlins magic#the knights of camelot#the knights know about merlins magic#gwen#guinevere#good morgana#morgana#court seer morgana#seer#powerful merlin#emrys#lord emrys
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katara: “do you hear that?”
aang: “sounds like it’s coming from over there...”
for kataang week day 3: post canon @kataang-week
newly wedded aang and katara (now sporting a cute little bob) were travelling across the world for their honeymoon. on their way to the kingdom of omashu, the two decided to stop and revisit the cave of two lovers. as aang and katara leaned in for a quick kiss by the entrance of the cave, they heard a blood-curling scream come from inside. immediately pulling away, the couple shared a suspicious look with each other before deciding to investigate.
katara cautiously grabbed her pouch as aang drew out a small flame to lead the way. however, the waterbender stopped her husband to remind him that the tunnels were filled with fluorescent crystals that glowed in the dark.
“oh yeah,” aang recalled. he looked down at the flame dwindling in his palm. “i’ll put it out when we get further in there. if we hear screaming again, we’ll be able to find out where it came from.”
“you can also use your earth bending this time around.”
aang nodded. “that i can.” the gentle lines of his face - reserved especially for his wife - quickly switched up to the avatar look, the signature look that he bore whenever there was danger and people in need of his help.
“let’s go.”
(continued under the cut, 2.4k words)
the broad sunlight of the summer day was reduced to a small crevice against their backs, as the two lovers made their way into the shadows of the labyrinth. their primary light source came from aang’s flame, which had grown brighter the farther they travelled. the avatar could not help but become a little bit mesmerized with the vivid red and orange hues that danced in his left palm, the warmth that occupied his hand having stretched out to his entire body. the flame synchronized so perfectly well with his heartbeat. fire is life, he recalled the words of the sun warrior chief. not just destruction.
aang nearly chuckled out loud. firebending came so naturally to him now - almost as natural as his airbending. to think that there was ever a time that he had outright hated the element and vowed to never learn it, even if it had meant jeopardizing his avatarhood.
however, a small voice crept to the back of his mind, uncomfortably reminding of the exact reason as to why he initially refused to learn the element at the age of twelve. it was the same reason that brought shame and guilt inside his gut - even eight years later - whenever the memory unexpectedly crossed his mind. what he had done to katara on that day, how he had refused to listen to jeong jeong’s advice and lost control of his fire, the image of her fresh burns - it was all there, forever smeared across his brain and heart as a painful reminder. no matter how many times katara had insisted that good had come from that day through the discovery of her healing abilities, aang could never wash away the trauma associated with that event.
he inhaled sharply. it won’t happen again. he wasn’t twelve anymore, and he had full control over all the elements now. fire was energy, he had learned, and life.
sparing a glance at katara, who had been awfully quiet since they got into the cave, he noticed that his wife was chewing anxiously on her lower lip. the trouble in her beautiful features was easily detectable by the bright flames within his hand. he moved closer to her, his shoulder gently bumping hers in an attempt to comfort her. “you okay?”
she met his eyes, and he could see the hint of fear reflected in them. “aang, i’m worried.”
“you have nothing to be worried about,” aang reassured her with a small smile. “whatever it is, or whoever it is, we can take ‘em.”
katara shook her head. “i’m not worried about the who. we’ve probably dealt with far worse than whatever is lingering in this cave. but i - aang, what if it’s bad?”
he frowned, confused. “what if what’s bad, then?”
she studied her hands carefully. her hands were the hands of a fighter, of a healer. the same hands who had resurrected an avatar back to life and saved a firelord from near death, while dismantling another firelord from the throne. he felt the sudden urge to draw her hands in his own, to hold her tight enough to ease away her fears.
“what if there’s a bunch of dead bodies stashed away in this tunnel, rotting away for days or even weeks?” she answered in alarm, eyes widening at the dark path ahead of them. “or, what if there’s a bunch of people lying around in pain, on the brink of death, and I don’t have enough water to save them all?”
his eyes turned to the road ahead. he saw nothing, except for earth and more earth. but he knew better than to dismiss those kind of fears.
“that wouldn’t be your fault.” he responded gently. “we’ll do our best to help, to make sure that whoever is out there is safe and unharmed. but if they do happen to be harmed - or worse, dead - and we’ve tried everything that we could,” he shuttered out a breath at the imagery. “i don’t want you to blame yourself for whoever you can’t save, katara.”
“and i don’t want you to blame yourself, aang.” she placed a hand on his shoulder as they walked on. he tried to ignore the immediate sweep of panic churning in his stomach at her proximity to the fire. if he envisioned a future with both katara and firebending, he would have to get used to accepting that she would be around the times when he required the element.
“i know you feel a sense of responsibility, as the avatar, to ensure that the world is kept safe,” she continued on. her voice softened, a sad tone. “i know it upsets you when it isn’t.”
“wasn’t i the one consoling you just a second ago?” aang joked, deflecting.
“we’re consoling each other.” katara insisted with a small smile. the corners of her mouth dropped at her next statement: “i know you don’t like to talk about it, aang, the stress and pressure that you feel. but i also know how it keeps you up at night. why you choose to sometimes spend long periods of time meditating.”
just like that, she had flipped the switch on him in the way that only she knew how. katara was undoubtedly right. of course he had seen and experienced his fair amount of injustice and morbidity; they all had. but the guilt of not being able to do anything about it - to know that people all over the world were counting on him to end their suffering and plight and despair, while there were many days when all he could do was sit in lavish cushions arguing endlessly with politicians who could not relate to the earth kingdom boy who had nothing to eat, or to the water tribe girl who had lost her parents, or to the air nomad who was the sole survivor of an entire culture - ate away at his heart and mind at every minute of every hour. even now, when he was supposed to be enjoying his blissful vacation with his wife.
“aang.” he felt katara lightly pull his chin towards her, forcing him to look at her before his mind could wander down the same dangerous road that it had so many days and nights before. she stopped the two in their tracks, the light from his palm illuminating their darkened features.
the fire reflected back in the indigo of her eyes, embodying the energy and intensity and life that was katara, his best friend, his saviour. suddenly, he was transported back to a time during the war, when he had just been a fidgety twelve year-old boy staring up at his fourteen year-old best friend. his heart thumped furiously against his chest the closer he inched to her face. when their lips met, he felt electricity course through his veins and wondered if the warmth that pooled in his stomach was what love felt like.
as he caught her lips in his own again, this time at the age of twenty, he could confirm - a memoir to his twelve year old self - that the warmth was indeed love. but love was also so much more, he came to realize over the years. love was the cautious hands of a fourteen year-old girl spending weeks at his side, healing him from his coma, sobbing in despair and frustration when he would not wake up. love was the way that he had thrown his arms around her waist, and she around his neck, relief flooding each other’s veins at the knowledge that they were both alive and safe and together after his defeat of ozai and her defeat of azula. love was the way her hand fit so perfectly in his, palm pressed to palm and fingers intertwined, as the two watched the early formations of republic city from their home, vowing to leave a lasting legacy on a world where benders and non-benders of all types could live together in safety and harmony.
love was also the brief kiss in an abandoned cave that said a million more things than he could ever say in words.
when the two pulled back, he noted the way that her eyes twinkled up at him under the fluorescent light. the crystals shone overhead, leading them down a familiar path, just as how it had done when he was twelve. aang checked his left palm and realized that he had extinguished his flame during the kiss.
katara’s smile reached her eyes when she grabbed for his hand, pulling him along. “funny,” she said, bemused. “that thing you said when we were kids. guess it held up all these years, didn’t it?”
“what thing?”
“oh, you know,” she replied with a casual shrug, a mischievous glint forming in her eye. “you choosing to kiss me over dying - ”
he groaned. she was never going to let him live that one, was she?
“did i say that?” aang feigned innocence. “i can’t quite recall. maybe what my awkward twelve-year old self had meant to say, instead, was that the thought of not being able to kiss you is just so unbearable that i would rather have chosen death.”
“mmhmmm. sure you had.” a blush slowly crept up her cheeks, betraying her sarcastic tone. success.
“good thing that hasn’t happened yet, though. the not being able to kiss you anymore part.” he paused, adding as an afterthought: “the death part, too, if we’re being honest.”
“don’t speak so soon. what if there’s a serial killer in here?” she hushed him, looking around conspiratorially.
“you’d rather a serial killer kiss you instead of your own husband? ouch.”
she smacked his arm. “aang! i’m serious. with the recent bender supremacy uprisings going on in major cities of the earth kingdom, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. what’s stopping a bender supremacist from kidnapping a bunch of non-benders in omashu and dumping their bodies in this cave right now?”
“well, for starters, we would’ve heard by now if that were the case, wouldn’t we have? there’d be rumours, like with what happened with hama. so far, there hasn’t been any reports of mysterious non-bender disappearances in the cities where the uprisings are taking place. definitely not any in omashu.”
a dark look settled across katara’s face at the mention of the estranged bloodbender. “an earth bender supremacist could be dragging bodies from the city and burying them in the rubble of the tunnels. no one would even think to look because the legend says that the cave is cursed.”
aang scratched his head, suddenly very wary about his surroundings. his eyes scanned everywhere around him, from the plethora of crystals that provided them light on top to the solid stone that held the cave in place, trying to spot any semblance of a decomposing body. just as before, he couldn’t detect anything unusual.
while he knew that katara’s suspicions had merit to them, his mind still hesitated over the idea of a bender supremacist trapping people in caves. he would have heard something by now, if that were the case. besides, they were drawing all of these inferences from a scream that he wasn’t even sure came from a human. the high-pitched sound could have belonged to a species of wolfbats, for all they knew. and even if it were to emerge out of a person, who was to say that it was connected to the victim of a bender supremacist murderer? it could have been from a lost and hungry traveler stuck in the cave for days, unsure of their way out. or perhaps it was from someone whose foot was trapped under rubble, screaming out in sheer pain. maybe it even belonged to a villager being chased by an angry spirit.
he walked over to one of the walls, running his hand over the sharp rocks that pricked at his skin. or perhaps, he thought bitterly, gritting his teeth, it was his own refusal to accept that he was failing the world again that led him to dismiss such possibilities. given the political climate, it was entirely possible that bender supremacists were using their bending to hide bodies within the cave. he just wasn’t aware of any of it because it was all taking place underneath his nose, while he remained in blissful ignorance with the women he loved on what was supposed to be his vacation.
aang closed his eyes. he focused on the vibrations emitting from the ground, trying to detect if there was anything that could give him a clue, like a direction to the source of the scream. he was even searching for the large footsteps of badger moles or the fluttering wings of wolfbats. while he was no toph, his earthbending had vastly improved over the years to the point where he had gotten very good at perceiving the world around and underneath him through vibrations. but this time around, he was sensing absolutely nothing.
well, not entirely nothing. aang noted that some parts of the earth below his hand felt kind of fresh. and quite warm. it didn’t take an earth bender to realize that their texture and temperature were evidently different from the rocks comprising the rest of the cave. this new formation of rock - whatever it was - also felt very familiar to him, almost like he had dealt with this type before.
his eyes widened in recognition. it was rock that had hardened after the eruption of a volcano. and not just any ordinary eruption; a special kind of eruption that didn’t require any volcano whatsoever.
lavabending.
“hey, katara. would you be able to come over here? i think i found something.”
aang’s words were interrupted by the sudden howl of a blood-curling scream. this time, he had felt the vibrations perfectly through the earth, and spirits did they hurt. he winced in pain, his ears ringing, reflexively removing his hand off the ground.
the screaming did not seem to stop the longer the seconds passed. multiple more emitted from the path ahead in unison, echoing off the chambers of the cave. his heart pounded. there was no denying that the cries had unmistakably belonged to humans.
katara already had a stream of water out from her pouch. she had sprang into action, pointing in the precise direction that the noise was coming from.
“this way,” she shouted, running ahead.
be careful, he couldn’t help think as he trailed after her.
--
this art was adapted from the following comic panel in imbalance part 2:
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Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 5
Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader
Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?
Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.
--
Chapter 5: Confrontation
< | Previous Chapter
Technoblade Focal Point
The two of them had sat in the library for a while after that, talking about only a few topics in between long spaces of silence. Techno had used that time to observe the princess. He noted the way her hair fell, the nervous shifting of her weight in the chair. She even would chew her lip in thought. Whatever she was thinking about was horribly hard to discern, though it was easy enough to see she was worried. Not that she could be entirely blamed.
She had looked worried and stressed this entire time. From the moment he had walked into the throne room and made eye contact with her. She was intimidated. He imagined he wasn't exactly the norm to what she often saw here. Her kingdom was known for its softness. Its inclination to avoid conflict. It was a point of confusion for why he was being made to marry her. His father had said that there were powerful allies in peace just as there often was in war. It was true, yet it was boring, in a way.
He was pulled from his reverie as she stood, glancing to the window. "It's nearing dinner time," A wistful sigh escaped her after the statement, "Do you want to take your books up to your room first? You didn't touch them, I assume you'd want to read them eventually." She had turned back towards him, gesturing to the few books he had picked out. That was his initial plan, in truth. Yet she was sitting there with that worried look on her face. It would have seemed wrong to not at least speak to her.
Slowly, Techno rose to his feet as well, pausing to get his books. "Yeah, I'll bring them back come morning." He turned, waiting for her as she came to his side. Once she had, he started walking, occasionally glancing at her from his peripheral.
"Great! I mean, ah, obviously you can keep them longer if needed. I don't expect you to read them all tonight." She stammered over her words again, looking away. Techno laughed quietly in response. Seemed like the brief comfort didn't last. It was definitely amusing to watch, though. She had a habit of stumbling over her words.
"Depends how well I'm able to sleep. Either way I won't hold onto them for long." Reassuring her seemed to ease her some, her shoulders relaxing. She was certainly a character. She simply walked with him then, staring ahead of them. She stood and waited outside his room, letting him take the few moments he needed to set the books down. He set them down atop the trunk sitting at the foot of his bed, pausing for a few seconds. Hopefully their parents had worked out their problems. He warned his father long ahead of time that this arrangement wouldn’t be received well.
His fingers brushed the book and he sighed, head shaking. If they hadn’t, he just wouldn’t deal with it. It wasn’t worth it. He had little to gain from this. He had his doubts the marriage would be jeopardized under any circumstance. There would be too much worry about upsetting his kingdom. They also had the food that was desperately needed here. Even if they were unsettled about his presence as opposed to Wilbur’s, they would deal with it.
He blew out a small puff of air, leaving the room once more. He glanced at the princess again, and she offered up a smile. Did she know of the unrest among her parents? Perhaps she did, but she didn’t show it. That, or she didn’t know enough to give her reason to be afraid of him. Ignorance of some form, then. That or a good actress, but she didn’t exactly give off that vibe.
“You’ll have to forgive our dinner. As you know we’ve been rather tight of food lately. Of course, you’re helping with that and it means… a lot. To both me and my citizens, I imagine.” Moments like this, it shone that she was a princess raised with diplomacy and respect. When she had to be this way, she would be. Even though she seemed to be so bumbling and awkward outside of diplomacy.
“It was in our best interest. We aren’t exactly hurting for food ourselves,” He explained. They had quite a surplus, in truth. Their lands had been generous for a few years. It made sense to give extra to a neighboring kingdom. It wouldn’t do if someone took advantage of their weakened state for an invasion.
“All the same, you have our eternal thanks.” She smiled softly, wandering along towards the dining hall with him. The silence wasn’t entirely awkward like the past ones. This one was a touch more comfortable, even as they walked into the dining hall, which was filled with soft chatter. Almost immediately, he felt a gaze on him. His head turned, seeking out the holder.
At the same time he spotted the blonde-headed man, the girl beside him bounded forward with a shout of, “Dream!” She settled into the spot beside him, having left Techno as if he wasn’t there in the first place. Dream, as she had called him, offered her a smile. His green eye never left him, though. It bore into him almost resentfully. In a way, it was unnerving. In the same way it was familiar in a way he couldn’t name. His other eye was hidden beneath an eyepatch of gold fabric, the gold filigree lace covering some of the scar that tried to peak out from the bottom.
Other than that he was almost plain. His clothes were dark green and simple, fairly understated for someone sitting beside a princess. Techno pursed his lips, but moved into the seat across from his fiancee. She seemed fairly content with the set up, though the other did not.
“Right! Dream, this is Prince Technoblade. Techno, this is Dream. My best friend,” She introduced with a grin, reaching for a cup nearby to sip from. The two looked at each other for a long moment. Waiting for the other to say something first.
“Your reputation precedes you, Technoblade.” Dream spoke in a calculated tone, causing Techno to narrow his eyes. The princess nudged him, shooting him a look. Like she could tell he was not happy.
“I’m surprised you’ve heard of me. Everyone seems surprised by my arrival,” He mused. Prodding, almost. He could already tell Dream did not like him. He didn’t even care that much.
“We weren’t expecting you. I trust you’ll take care of her all the same.” An embarrassed expression crossed the princess’s face, nose scrunching a little. Like she looked dissatisfied with the implication she needed taking care of.
“I think I’m capable of taking care of her. I don’t let harm befall my family,” He fired back. A smug smirk curled his lips as Dream huffed. The girl across from him looked to the side with her own little huff, though they seemed to mean different things.
“I can take care of myself, thank you,” she grumbled, crossing her arms.
“You can’t even hold a sword.” Dream was quick to retort, causing an almost frustrated pout to cover her face.
“I can very well teach her, even if she doesn’t know. It’s good knowledge to have, regardless of status and who she’s with.” The look Dream sent Techno at this was dirty, clearly unhappy with the words. The princess, however, looked a little more interested. A light sparkled in her eyes, and Techno had a feeling she just hadn’t been allowed to learn. As expected from a soft kingdom like this.
Dinner proceeded a little more calmly, with the princess and Dream firing back and forth to each other multiple times. Techno only chimed in when he saw fit, otherwise resigning himself to his meal. As the meal closed, both he and Dream stood. He leveled Dream with a stare, resisting the urge to grab onto one of his swords.
“I’ll walk you to your room,” He finally broke the silence. Mainly just to irritate the man, and see the look on his face. She, however, smiled up at Techno, and gently patted Dream’s arm. This barely seemed to placate him as he huffed, turning to leave the dining hall.
“Thank you, Techno,” She hummed, waiting for him near the door. He nodded, walking with her outside of the hall. Habitually he put a hand on the pommel of one of his swords, well aware of the dangers that came with it being night. She led him towards the other side of the castle, seeming rather content with the silence for a few moments.
“Did you mean it?” She finally asked, looking up at him. He turned his head just slightly, looking at her curiously.
“Mean what?”
“That you’d teach me to hold a sword. Or fight with it,” She explained quietly, looking away. Like she was unsure about the whole idea.
“I’m willing to teach you to fight with something. It doesn’t make sense for you to not be able to defend yourself should you need to.” They rounded a corner, and she seemed extremely content with the answer.
“My parents wouldn’t teach me, and neither would Dream.” She hardly seemed happy at that, but the contentment she expressed at being able to learn at some point was rather nice. An eager student was a good one, truthfully.
“We’ll have to figure out what will fit you best when we get to my kingdom. Maybe after the wedding.” He tried to ignore how awkward it felt to say that, and she seemed equally flustered. She hesitated outside her door, as if contemplating if there were anything else she needed to say.
“That sounds good to me. Thank you, Techno. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” She smiled up at him, and he nodded. Once she was safe inside her room, he turned to head towards his room. Silence fell around him, beyond the soft tapping of his boots. That, and a second, quieter pair trailing him. He wasn’t an idiot.
“You can quit trailing me and just talk to me,” He finally called out after a few seconds. He came to a stop in the hall, turning towards the sound. He didn’t technically need to look, either. He knew who it was. Dream slipped from the shadows, eye narrowed at him suspiciously. He eyes the hand Techno was resting on his pommel, almost warily. Like he would draw it at any second. Not that he planned to, unless provoked into doing such.
“Why get engaged to her?” He said bitterly, causing Techno to quirk his lips. Was that jealousy? Of course, he should have seen that coming. How cliche.
“What’s it matter to you? You clearly weren’t going to do it.” It was a cruel taunt, but deserved in a way. He wasn’t fond of Dream already, and he wasn’t sure if it was the possessiveness he expressed over his now fiancee.
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Dream practically bristled defensively. He looked ready to attack, and in truth it was amusing.
“I have no reason to answer. Besides, you won’t even teach her to defend herself. You want her dependent on you, don’t you?” His head tilted, a grin on his face. It was too easy to read him from an outside view.
“No. She’s just clumsy. If you so much as hurt her, I swear I’ll-”
“You’ll what? Kill me. Good luck. I told you I wouldn’t harm her and I have no intention to. She is my fiancee, not yours, Dream. Let me worry about her.” He spun on his heel, the movement almost militaristic. He didn’t care to listen to Dream’s possessive and jealous ramblings. Whatever chances he had had at one point, he had very clearly lost somewhere before Techno came along.
Next Chapter | >
#dream#dreamwastaken#dream team#dream smp#dream x reader#technoblade#technoblade x reader#kingdom au#reader insert#sleepy bois inc#sleepy bois family#t&t
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Was Ich Liebe (P.1)
Title: Was Ich Liebe (Part One)
Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. Tony becomes enamored with a stripper at a club his hedonistic friend Thor owns. A casual sexual relationship quickly becomes possessive and the reader sees more of the underground mafia life than she would like to. The cherry on top is that Tony is married and so is she. Him to a woman who has no intention of losing her throne at any cost and the reader to a deadbeat alcoholic. Feeling trapped by both her previous life and the suffocating hold Tony is trying to put on her, the reader steals away in the night, which is not going to go over well.
Words: 4,301
Warnings (for whole fic, more may be added): Dub-con, smut, infidelity, stripping, vaginal fingering, public sex, possessive behavior, angst, degradation kink, violence, physical abuse, domestic violence, language, drug use, alcoholism, death
Author’s Note: I did not have the ability to do a one shot. As usual, this is 18+.
Intro || Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
Your legs and core were burning as you ended your routine to “Walk” by Pantera. You slowly slid down the pole as it was coming to an end, ending in a deep squat at the end, ass towards the crowd.
Turning back against the lights shining at you, you crawled on your knees seductively taking bills being held out and swiping up ones that had been tossed.
The tips were good tonight. You swiped your top from the ground you had thrown off halfway through much to the pleasure of the crowd, showing off your glow in the dark skull hand pasties. Happy autumn. And you walked off, holding your cash and looking forward to switching back to six inch heels to walk around now that your set was over.
Fixing your winged eyeliner, you spotted Thor coming in through the door to the dressing room. Everyone straightened up at his presence. He came straight over to you though.
“Perle room, Y/N.”
That was a private customer room. It was easier being on the stage because you were blinded from the crowd for a lot of it with the lights. One on one was harder to dissociate since they were the only other soul in the room.
“You’re picking the songs. He paid for three.”
That was always a gamble; depending on what genre the customer liked, it could go up or down hill really quick.
Thor leaned in close and whispered in your ear, “And he’s a friend of mine, so behave, you hear? Make sure he leaves satisfied. He loves ass so grind, yeah?”
A friend of his was shady no doubt. But you nodded, making eye contact through the mirror. Thor smirked before planting a kiss on your temple.
“Good set by the way.”
“Thank you,” you said as he straightened up and turned to leave you.
Shit. That meant you needed to change. Which is why you always brought an extra set of lingerie. You went to your locker and pulled out the black set.
<><><>
Since it was going to be more intimate, you chose “Was Ich Liebe” by Rammstein to start. It would allow a lot of grinding.
When you walked in, he was already sitting on the opposite of the dark room in the black light. Even in the darkness, you recognized the man. It was not hard to do so with his high standing in the mob.
Tony Stark.
He was to be treated like a high-ranking customer and you were doing to do that.
You started on the pole, circling slowly before climbing and hooking your leg to spin controlled around.
Sliding down, you crawled on all fours to him, pulling yourself up by holding onto his knees that were already spread in anticipation of you. Turning around you ground your ass into his pelvis. Leaning back your face brushed his.
“What’s your name?” he breathed into your ear. You told him your fake name and his lips tugged up at the corner briefly. “You’re real name, sweetheart.”
“That is my real name.”
He chuckled, his nose nuzzling into your neck. “If you insist so, sweetheart.”
You fell into the music, alternating between him and the pole. Your second song started, “Problem” by Natalia Kills.
You moved back to his lap. His hands ran up and down your thighs as you grinded. Which was okay until his fingers slipped past your thong, cupping your sex as you ground into him. You lost rhythm with your lap dance and his breath was hot at your ear. “Just like that, keep going. You are doing beautifully.”
Men getting handsy in the private rooms was not unusual. Especially not ones who paid like he had but you workers knew to dispel it as much as possible. Do not let them get too bold.
You had to be crafty about how you maneuvered out of the situation though. He was Thor’s friend and you knew he was powerful. You resumed grinding, and his nose brushed your neck, inhaling deeply. His fingers threatened to push in and you reacted quickly. You moved out of his lap to dip down in your dancing, forcing his hand away. You were still doing what Thor wanted, giving him a good show. Your hands gripping your ankles, you moved your ass in rhythm with the song.
Tony was not going to be deterred though. Gripping your hips firmly, he pulled you back into his lap with a rough tug. He forced your legs open again and his hand was snaking past your panties again.
As the song sang about claiming your body, Tony’s fingers slid into your pussy and you jumped away from his embrace. You stood a couple feet away, holding your arms tightly around yourself. He was frozen, looking at you expectantly.
“You… you’re not supposed to touch us. It’s against the rules,” you told him, keeping the tremor out of your voice miraculously. You knew what trouble could come from denying a man like him.
Tony brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them off slowly, tasting you. Your heart was hammering with the intense stare off he was having with you. He was handsome as all hell, but you knew he was the type of dangerous you should not have in your life.
He finally shrugged. “Noted. My apologies. I’ll behave, scouts honor.”
He beckoned you back with two fingers.
You swallowed your unease and came back, resuming. He kept his hands off of you like he vowed he was going to. Still, you spent a lot of the time on the pole during your final song “Inertia Creeps” by Massive Attack.
At the end, Tony stood up and he came up to you at the pole. You looked up at him with curiosity; men usually did not move when you left the room.
He smiled devilishly down at you and held out a couple of folded hundreds. He was giving you $200 in tips? Your eyes widened and he forced them into your hand.
Before you could react, he leaned in and caught your mouth. His lips were soft but his force was rough. You were dazed when he pulled away. He winked at you.
“I’ll be seeing you again soon, sweetheart. Thanks for the sweet dreams.”
<><><>
Next weekend you were called to the Perle room again. And again, you found Tony there. He chose the set list this time and had you starting out with “Dissolved Girl” by Massive Attack. He had enjoyed the other song so much, he wanted to see you perform more of the album in front of him.
“I’ve tried to stop thinking about you. It hasn’t worked.”
His hands came up, caressing your breasts. You turned your head and his hands loosened. He laughed, nipping at your ear.
“Right, right. The rules. Darling, do you know how hard it is to remember those around you?”
“I’ve heard that before. It doesn’t make the rules any less real,” you returned, pulling away from his embrace and sashaying back to the pole.
He was watching you hungrily as you worked yourself around the pole. There was a storm brewing in his eyes.
“How would you like to make some money outside this club?”
Dipping low, you met his eyes and saw he was serious.
“If you’re asking me to fuck you, I’m married.”
That was information you rarely gave out. But Tony seemed the type of man you needed to put a hard wall up with.
Tony gave you a wide grin. “No, not fucking. Just fun. I wanna have a night out. I just want company.”
Some of the girls did escort work like that. And since it was outside the club you got to keep everything, no tax was taking off the top. And your electricity bill was going to be higher next month since winter was coming.
You did not answer him immediately, rolling the idea around. Knees spread on the ground, dancing, you met his eyes again. He was still waiting for an answer.
Getting back up sultrily, you came to sit back in his lap. He hummed in approval as you said, “Sure. Where we going?”
<><><>
“Going to whore yourself out again?” Michael asked, his words already slurring.
You were wearing a peacoat coat over your dress but he could still it was short. He disapproved of you stripping but he always backtracked when you were able to pay the bills. And more so, bring him his favorite bottle of liquor every other night. Especially since he rarely brought any money in himself. You felt an obligation to him since you had been high school sweethearts.
“For your information, no. I’m going out with friends.”
A white lie.
“What friends? Your co-hooker friends? Glad you keep such great company. A bunch of pathetic bitches just like you, starving for validation…”
“No. Well-paying friends who want my company,” you spat without thinking, angry he was always putting you down.
He got up out of his chair and you moved quickly. The last time he had laid hands on you, you had to take a week off of work and Thor had been pissed.
Your hand was on the door handle, and you had it opened quick. He stumbled and that gave you enough time to get the door closed and move down the hallway. The elevator was not an option cause it was too slow and you took the stairwell, not missing him yelling expletives at you.
He would be passed out well before you got home.
<><><>
Your dress clung tight to your body. You looked around the restaurant, worrying that you were going to be stood up. You had been here for twenty minutes and had ordered a glass of wine.
You were halfway through it without a sign of him. This place was five star, and you did not want to do a walk of shame.
Thankfully for you, Tony sauntered in five minutes later and he slid into the booth across from you, adjusting his jacket as he did. Leaning back against the booth, he threw his arm across the back of it, relaxing back, looking at you. You had chosen the seat across the table.
“You’re punctual. That’s new.”
“Was I not supposed to be?”
“Darling. I never am. Next time let’s ride together. Reservations for 7? I’m here at 7:30 at best and they know to keep the table for me.”
The first date had not even started, and he was already talking about the next.
He suddenly noticed you had a chair and as the waiter approached. He gestured at you and said, “What’s this chair doing here? Is there supposed to be more people than can fit on this booth?”
“Uh, no, Mr. Stark. It was just put there in case someone wanted it—"
“Do you want it?” Tony asked you, interrupting.
You knew the answer he wanted. Calmly, you stood up and moved around the table to sit right up next to him. His hand lying across the back of the booth caressed your shoulder.
“No, here is fine,” you said.
“That’s what I thought. Now, let’s get you something delectable to eat to match how I know you taste. Top notch deserves the same in return.”
He winked salaciously and you blushed. This off-limits escorting was not going to last long; you could sense that. He was not a man that would be satiated with just a taste. He wanted the whole course.
And that whole course was you spread out for him whenever he so pleased.
<><><>
On the fourth date, he took the plunge.
His town car took the opposite way from your turn, and you looked at him.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere where we can enjoy each other fully.”
You opened your mouth, but Tony held a finger up to your lips, winking. There was a sinister feeling behind that wink, and you closed your lips. He smiled in approval, “You’re so well behaved, sweetheart. You’re going to be a lot of fun.”
At the hotel room, legs spread wide, Tony’s large hands held you at your waist as he drove up into you hard and quick. He was not a gentle lover.
He rocked forward quickly and in one fell swoop had managed to maneuver you to pull you with him and you ended up on top. Lining himself back up with your entrance, he plummeted back in, resuming his unforgiving pace. You cried as he held your arms tight, keeping you in place to use like his own personal toy. You were an object to him that he wanted to possess.
<><><>
Leg crossed over the other, relaxing back in the armchair, Tony demanded, “What’s her name?”
Thor told Tony your fake name without missing a beat as he worked across the desk. Tony had come here for answers and Thor would be hard pressed to give them away completely.
Tony stared at him across the table unimpressed and Thor stopped typing, noticing. He simpered, “Tony, it’s for her safety.”
“Are you afraid for her? Because of me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because her husband is a real piece of work.” He noticed the look on shocked Tony’s face, and he said, “Yeah, she wasn’t lying about that. I’m assuming she told you she was married. He might be a deadbeat, but he knows how to load a punch. If he found out she was doing more than dancing, I would be afraid for her. He’s already made her miss a couple weeks of work because of his Rambo fists when he’s gotten riled up just about the dancing. Which makes no sense to me because he barely brings money in, and she is essentially the sole breadwinner.”
Tony cocked an eyebrow. “And you want her to stay with that?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Seems like you did.”
Thor snorted, “No, I just know what lengths you are willing to go to get your way. And I’m not sure I want you taking this on. As your friend. It’s advice.”
“It won’t be hard. I want her, so it’ll be worth the effort,” Tony said.
<><><>
“It was nice,” you told Tony as you sat in the back of his town car when he asked you how you had enjoyed the night.
He had taken you to a high-end seafood restaurant on a large boat docked at the marina. You meant what you said; it was delicious.
“I thought you would like it,” Tony stated, scooting closer and an arm slipped around your shoulder, holding you closer.
He was staring into your eyes, and you smelled the bourbon on his breath. You no doubt reeked of alcohol yourself. There was something lurking beneath his gaze though. And you soon found out what.
“Y/N,” Tony murmured. You froze and he smiled at your shock. His fingers trailed up your arm and came to cup you under the chin. “That’s such a lovely name.”
Unable to stop yourself, you asked, “How…?”
“Money talks,” Tony informed you as his hand spread to hold you beneath the jaw, fingers trailing behind your ear. You tried to pull away but his arm around you held tight, stopping your movement. He smirked briefly, “I’m not here to hurt you, darling. Don’t ever think that. I just simply adore you. I wanted to know about you. I want to take this further.”
“Further than just the bed?”
“Yes. I want you entirely.”
His firm tone was sincere. What had you gotten yourself into?
He pressed the button, and the partition went up between the two of you and the front seat. His hand left your neck to snake up your dress. “I want to call you by your real name when I take you this time.” He kissed you roughly and his lips brushed yours as he vowed, “I’ll have you whenever and wherever.”
<><><>
Months later, you awoke in the king bed in the mountain top suite. Sneaking a peek at the bedside clock, you saw it was almost four in the morning. You needed to leave. Tossing a look at Tony, seeing he was still sleeping, you tried to unravel yourself from his embrace as gently as you could.
But it was futile.
Tony yanked you back to him as you tried to crawl out of the bed. You protested lightly and he shushed you by roughly rolling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours, growing in intensity as he woke from slumber. His leg wrapped around you, trapping you against him. His cock was already growing hard again after the short nap the two of you had taken after the last tussle in the sheets.
You tried to make space as you said, “You know if I’m going to get home the time I said I was going to, I have to leave now.”
You were hours from home. He had taken you up into the mountains for the last couple of days. You had said you were going on a work trip with your coworkers per your managers request to dance at a new club. Michael would never know. That is unless you came home at the wrong time; then he would start to get suspicious.
The last couple of days had been really nice. Tony had been kind… until tonight. He always treated you to the best and made sure you were well taken care of. But he had gotten… off when he noticed you tonight having taken a nice tone and smiled at a busboy as you dropped off dishes near the kitchen entrance that was out of your way. You had only been trying to be nice to the guy. You knew what it was like working customer service and you only wanted to make his job a little bit easier. And he was not hard on the eyes. Receiving small flirtations was harmless in your eyes and it boosted your mood. It had done just that for the guy.
But upon coming back to the room, Tony was callous, and you had to pry him out of his shell with sweet words and caresses. He had been condescending, asking you if you got off on pleasing men in front of him. When you had told him you did not know what he was talking about he had torn your dress down the front, ignoring your shocked cries at his brutal behavior, and forced you onto the bed. The tatters of the dress had been torn from you completely and he had done the same to your underwear and then forcibly removed your bra from you. He had not even waited for you to get wet before slamming up into you.
“Who gives a fuck what that good-for-nothing husband of yours thinks?” He nipped at your neck, sucking in roughly. His hands gripped and held you close.
“My face does,” you retorted, trying to unwind yourself from him. But Tony was quick, locking you back down. “Tony, please.”
You managed to unlock yourself despite his grabbing and you slid off the bed, hitting the ground, your ass hitting it roughly. He exhaled sharply, glaring down at you and you moved quickly backwards, getting to your feet unsteadily. He was already getting out of the bed, and you moved quickly, snatching up your bag. Your dress was ruined, which was no matter. You could return in your sweats and top.
Tony was on you though and his grip on your bag was tight and he yanked back, drawing you with it. You let go as you stumbled as to not lose your balance and face plant. He used his momentum to throw the bag across the room by the sliding glass door.
“Tony! Stop playing games!” you said desperately, trying to move towards where he threw it, but he stepped in your way. “You know I have to get ready! You can’t be jealous of him. You know what this is.”
“So what if I’m jealous?” Tony asked, continuing to advance towards you and you kept walking backwards. Your back hit the wall, stopping your advancement. “The thought of you with him makes me sick.”
“He’s my husband—"
Tony slammed his fist on the counter, and you jumped back against the wall, causing it to shake slightly. “Stop making fucking excuses! He’s a piece of shit and you know it! Why won’t you just accept me?”
“Tony, I do—” you tried to placate him.
“Don’t you lie to me,” he warned in a snarl. “If that were true, you would be loyal to me and me only. You know how I feel. I want you. Wholly.”
That was so unfair of him to say when you knew he was married. But you also knew better than to point that out. Not when he was this belligerent; you knew belligerent men were hardly able to be reckoned with and calmed down. No, you needed to use other facts.
“And you did, this whole weekend,” you pointed out in shaky tones.
Tony’s laugh was maniac, “’Weekend’. Yeah, that’s what I mean when I say wholly.”
You tried to dodge around him quickly to go towards your bag, but he jolted out and grabbed you around the waist, swinging you around. You kicked your legs as he dragged you. You bounced on the mattress, not fully on it but not fully off it either. You grabbed at the sheets to get leverage and you got grounded just as his hand closed around your ankle. You pulled away with ferocity, landing on the other side of the bed. Scrambling, you grabbed your bag. Tony’s arm came around you, pulling you back.
“Tony!” you cried out, your voice cracking. “Please stop!”
There was a sharp knock at the door and the two of you froze. Tony swore underneath his breath and let you go, causing you to stumble because you had been relying on him.
He snatched up his briefs and threw them on before storming towards the door as another knock came.
He opened the door a crack and sighed frustrated, “What?”
You heard Happy, “Uh, I was coming to get Y/N… it’s time to take her back? I went to bed super early so I would be ready to take her back now?”
You were relieved to hear someone with sense.
“Fuck!” Tony snapped, tossing the door open and you squeaked, still naked. You rushed towards the hall to grab your sweats and sweater out and throw those on.
When you emerged again, Happy was waiting by the door and Tony was necking the bottle of bourbon he had bought. He slammed it back down on the counter and glared at you. You went to go towards him to kiss him goodbye to try to start to smooth things over, but he held up his hand forcibly and you stopped. He took another swig without looking at you.
Hurt, you turned towards Happy, who was looking at Tony with scrutiny as well before following you out the door. You fell asleep on the car ride home and when you arrived back at your place, Tony still had not texted you.
<><><>
Clutching your duffel bag, you climbed the stairs a week later to your apartment. Tony had been clipped in his responses since Happy had taken you home. You were growing simultaneously frustrated and nervous with possessive, aggressive behavior.
Upon walking in, you saw the living room was upturned. Your blood chilled and you immediately dropped your bag, going for the switchblade in your front pocket of it. It was out as you grabbed your cell phone out of your bag.
Just as you were about to dial 911, Tony emerged from the hallway, holding up his hand. “Darling, it’s just me.”
Dropping the hand with your phone, you demanded, “’Just you’? What are you doing?”
Tony shrugged, “What I needed to do.”
You did not like the way that sounded at all. And then you noticed all the blood on his hands and on the wetness on his black jacket, which was no doubt more blood. Your hand clutched your switchblade tighter. Tony’s eyes dropped to it, and he looked back up at you.
“Sweetheart, there’s no need for that. It’s just me.”
“’Just you’? Where’s Michael?”
Tony rolled his eyes, annoyed. He turned his back and walked towards the kitchen. He flipped the switch on in there as he moved towards the sink. You moved to follow him and upon seeing more of the kitchen, you saw Carol and Rhodes were sitting at the table, having a drink.
“Where’s Michael?” you repeated.
Washing his hands in the sink now, without a care for the blood splattering, Tony told you, “I could have used a gun, but this was personal.”
The horror of what he was admitting without outright saying it was washing down on you. Your hand wavered, threatening to drop your switchblade.
“You…you…” you stammered; your chest was tight.
Tony continued rinsing the blood off of his hands, unbothered. He finished as you stood there frozen by your shock. Shaking his hands off, he wiped them on his black jeans and turned back to face you. As soon as he started to come close, you regained sense of self and your hand gripped tighter on your blade again.
Tony was not having any of that. He was quick and gripped your wrist tightly, twisting it so you cried out, dropping the blade. He held you up to the wall by your throat.
His word was law sinking around you, “No more excuses, Y/N. You’re all mine now.”
~~~
Song list to set the mood for me while writing:
Was Ich Liebe -- Rammstein
Walk -- Pantera
Problem -- Natalia Kills
Inertia Creeps -- Massive Attack
Dissolved Girl -- Massive Attack
Just For Me -- Saint Jhn feat. Sza
Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx
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A Wild Valentine Appears!
Ririka Momobami x She/Her Reader (Feat. some KiraSaya!)
A/N: I now realize why it takes me months to finish writing things. I wrote this oneshot in a day and although I have read it over several times already, I still feel like it’s incoherent. I’ll still happily post it though because if I only posted things I was completely satisfied with, I’d post nothing lol. Anyway, just wanted to give a little love to Ririka because she deserves it. Hope you’ll like it! Word Count: 2,425
Ririka stared over the sea of students pushing and shoving to get into any of the more contested council member lines. God, she really hated Kirari sometimes.
Today was Valentine’s Day, and all Ririka wanted to do was go home, order a giant, cheesy pizza, and watch anime from the comfort of her own bed and forget this stupid holiday even existed. But no, her dear sister just had to be an insufferable nuisance. Nothing could ever be easy, could it?
Kirari had decided to inform the council that morning in an unplanned meeting, that in order to spare the mail room from total annihilation (and Sayaka’s back), each council member would have to accept their Valentines in person. She had even set up the gymnasium for the occasion. Not herself of course, she made the house pets do it, but you get the idea.
“But president, I already have an idol greeting in place!” Yumemi smiled, though her eye twitched, “I’m too busy to deal with people outside of my fan club who need I remind you, actually pay me for my time.”
“It is a waste of time,” Kaede pushed his glasses up, “A pointless holiday.”
“Well I think it’s a great idea president!” Itsuki proclaimed, leveling a glare at Kaede.
“Free sweets so I’ll happily comply!” Runa grinned.
“Sayaka,” Yumemi called, exasperation seeping out of the cracks in her cheery idol facade, “Surely you don’t want to watch people confessing to the president all afternoon?”
Sayaka’s hands, hidden behind her back, clenched tightly in agreement, yet her polite smile stayed solid. “The president’s will is my will.” She replied, her eyes dark and focused.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure Sayaka will be busy enough dealing with her own little pack of girls! Crazy to believe I know, but she’s actually pretty popular!” Midari sensed the air around the president change and cackled. “I’m cool with it, prez. I’m sure Yuriko’s ego would love all the attention too!” She offered on behalf of the absent council member. Yuriko had some important business with the Traditional Culture Club to take care of before the impromptu meeting was called.
“Majority rules.” Kirari smiled, passing a glance over to Ririka who was silently stewing.
So that’s how Ririka ended up standing in the furthest corner of the gym, watching all her fellow council members’ lines fill up while hers remained painfully desolate. She had never been more thankful for her mask than she was today. However, it was probably because of the mask and her eerie silence that people were afraid to approach her in the first place.
Ririka found entertainment watching Kirari and Sayaka at least. Though those two usually drove her absolutely bonkers, it was kind of funny to watch them take turns discreetly eyeing their ‘competition’ for the other’s affections. It was enough to make Ririka want to scream over the school’s intercom system that they needed to just kiss already and stop wasting everyone’s time, but still funny to see her sister making a mental list of every person who dared get too comfortable with her secretary. Ririka rolled her eyes as she was sure Sayaka was doing the same to the patrons in Kirari’s line. Her sister’s line was much larger than Sayaka’s own, but Ririka knew better than to think Sayaka couldn’t keep up.
“Um, excuse me, vice president?”
Ririka startled, but years of schooling her emotions and physical reactions hid her scare well. She looked away from her sister to stare at the disturbance head on. Ririka was surprised to find a face she recognized. (L/n) (Y/n), she sat next to Ririka’s left in class since their first year of high school. What could she possibly want?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t disrupt your train of thought did I? Here, let me just give you this quick and I’ll be out of your hair,” (Y/n) laughed nervously, her hand rummaging through the school bag over her shoulder, “I knew I should have packed better, sorry, just a second... There!” (Y/n)’s hand finally re-emerged with a rectangular box, striped with red, pink, and white. She held the box out to Ririka with a barely detectable tremor, “I made these chocolates for you. I hope you like them!”
Ririka tilted her head, mouth agape. Was this actually happening right now? Someone was giving her Valentines chocolate? And they were cute and nice? What the hell?
“Oh no, you hate it! I’m so sorry!” (Y/n) looked every bit as horrified as Ririka felt for just standing there and staring like an idiot instead of accepting the chocolates.
Ririka immediately waved her arms and shook her head, swiping the chocolates from her classmate’s hands and pressing the box into her chest protectively. Looking between (Y/n) and the chocolates Ririka knew she had to do something to show her gratitude so, she awkwardly flashed (Y/n) a shaky thumbs up. If Ririka could blush through her mask she was sure it would be bright pink.
“Thank you, vice president! I hope you like them, I worked hard on these- but! But don’t feel obligated or anything!” (Y/n) quickly added.
Ririka looked down at the pretty box in her hands a popped the lid open, a little gasp escaped her lips and came through her voice modulator like a crackle of static. The chocolates were shaped like cats!
“I hope you don’t mind, I noticed you doodle a lot during class and I think you make the cutest little kittens so that’s why I shaped the chocolate like that. I made the mold too, it took a couple tries, but the end result was worth it I think.”
Ririka hadn’t realized (Y/n) had paid attention to her at all, much less that she would be interested in her enough to know what she did during class, or remember and care enough to then turn such observations into an incredibly sweet and thoughtful gift. There was no way she was going to be able to keep her eyes off of (Y/n) during class now... not that she had ever stared longingly at her before! Or chickened out of buying chocolates to put in her classmate’s shoe cubby that morning, not at all! But damnit Ririka really wished she hadn’t been such a coward now!
“I’m glad this worked out. I had been planning to just send them through the mail system like I have in previous years, but then I heard that the student council was only accepting gifts in person this year and I kind of lost my nerve,” (Y/n) rambled on, waving her hands around as she talked.
Ririka couldn’t believe it. (Y/n) had sent her chocolates before? She had never gotten them. They had probably been lost in her sister’s vast piles of confectionary wealth, damn her sister!
“You are always so distant with everyone. I was afraid I was just going to be bothering you, but seeing you standing here all alone... I knew I had to just go for it and put my feelings out there, you know? Ah, I’m talking too much. I should really—“
“The president did not consent to be touched!”
(Y/n) and Ririka whipped their heads around just in time to see Sayaka flip a student twice her size to the ground, tasing him for good measure. Kirari stood by with an amused smirk, her hands rubbing sanitizer into her skin as she watched her secretary obliterate the boy.
The girls who were still waiting in Sayaka’s line started cheering and swooning which quickly made the president’s mood sour and she turned to the girls, offering them an icy stare that shook them all to the bone.
“I’ve grown quite bored of this. Would any of you care for a high stakes gamble? I’m sure we all have something of value to offer.” Kirari spoke, reaching her hand out towards the group.
The girls dropped their gifts and ran away screaming, none dared to accept the president’s wager. Especially not while she looked so menacing albeit elegant, as if she drank human blood and tears from a wine glass while sitting regally upon a throne constructed from the bones of her enemies.
Once the boy on the ground was disturbingly still, Sayaka stood and brushed off her skirt, her dark, calculating eyes scanned over the rest of the line. She zapped her taser twice in warning causing the remaining students to scatter and flee the scene.
“Oh my, Sayaka. Did you need to be so harsh?” Kirari teased, as if she hadn’t just subtly threatened a handful of high schoolers herself. She’d be lying is she said she hadn’t enjoyed the momentary chaos she had created.
“School hours are nearly over president. I was simply killing two birds with one stone.” Sayaka informed, still looking a bit miffed.
“Ah, so they are. Well then, far be it from me to hamper anyone’s holiday plans.” Kirari looked around at the remaining students and made a shooing motion with her hands, clearly bored, “Leave.” The students knew better than to complain, not directly in front of the president at least. (Y/n) moved to follow the crowd but Ririka grasped her by the bicep, keeping (Y/n) glued to her spot. Ririka was not going to let her slip away, not without returning the favor. Once the students were pushing out of the gymnasium doors, Kirari turned back to Sayaka, her eyes glimmering. “Sayaka, accompany me to the student council room. I would love a hot cup of tea. You always prepare it so well.”
“Yes, president!” Sayaka nodded, falling in step behind Kirari as she took a different exit.
“That was, something.” (Y/n) laughed, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand, “I better get lost now before I overstay my welcome. Um, thank you again, vice president.” (Y/n) moved to pull away but Ririka held on tighter, making her classmate’s skin grow warmer. “Vice president?”
Ririka looked around at who was left loitering in the gymnasium and rolled her eyes. She may not have gotten chocolates for (Y/n), but she was surely going to make up for it before the day was over. Ririka just needed to get away from all these people first. She tugged (Y/n) along to the gym storage room and blushed as Runa laughed and pointed at her. She pulled (Y/n) inside the storage room and closed the door behind them.
“(L/n),” Ririka’s distorted voice crackled to life behind her mask, causing (Y/n) to jump. (Y/n) had never heard her speak before. “Do you like anime?”
“I- yeah I like anime?” (Y/n) blinked, she clearly had no idea where this could possibly be going.
“Do you like pizza?” Ririka persisted, the modulator making her sound much more severe rather than excited.
“Sure, I like pizza vice president.” (Y/n) answered taking a cautious step back as Ririka stepped forward, effectively cornering herself.
“Would you...” Ririka’s hand quivered as she lifted it to her face, (Y/n) tracked the movement, a look of bewildered wariness upon her face as she waited with bated breath for whatever was to come next. Ririka pulled the mask off her face, blushing as (Y/n) grew more shocked, awed, and confused. “Would you like to come to my house to watch anime and eat dinner?!” Ririka squeaked, her face growing hotter after every word that left her mouth.
“But— how? You... we were.. and you were, and then you?” (Y/n) babbled looking between Ririka and the door, weakly pointing between the two. Ririka starred at (Y/n) oddly then smacked her hand over her eyes and laughed feebly at the misunderstanding.
“I’m not Kirari. We’re twins. I’m Momobami Ririka.”
“Twins? Oh,” (Y/n) suddenly looked very relieved, “I thought for sure Igarashi was going to pop out and strangle me with a jump rope or something. Twins, wow! How have I never guessed?”
“Do not tell anyone!” Ririka warned. “No one is supposed to know yet!”
“I won’t tell!” (Y/n) raised her hand and made a gesture of zipping her lips. “Your secret is safe with me, vice president!”
“Well, good.” Ririka replied awkwardly. “So do you want to...?”
“Oh, yeah!” (Y/n) cleared her throat, “Yes, that sounds like fun, thank you for inviting me.”
Ririka smiled, “Excellent.” She fitted her mask back over her face and led (Y/n) out of the storage room by the hand. “Come with me.” the distorted voice commanded.
Ririka dragged (Y/n) down the hall and the feeling was near euphoric. The grin taking over her face was fighting to be as wide as the one covering her mask when (Y/n)’s hand grasped hers just as tightly.
***
“That’s odd...” Sayaka murmured staring down into the courtyard from the student council window.
“What’s odd, Sayaka?” Kirari asked, tone light and playful as she hugged her secretary from behind, resting her chin on Sayaka’s shoulder.
“President!” Sayaka blushed, wiggling in Kirari’s hold. “I just, I didn’t realize the vice president had a girlfriend is all.” Sayaka explained, pointing to the two girls jogging up to an expensive, black car.
“Oh?” Kirari was just as bemused as she was confused, not that she would allow her face to show it. Watching her sister usher a girl she recognized as a classmate of theirs into the back of the car before Ririka followed in after her and closed the door. Soon after, the car pulled away from the curve. “How interesting.” She would have to confront Ririka about this at a later date, but for now she had a secretary to shower with affections. “Sayaka, this chocolate is delectable. Would you like a taste?”
“I think I would. Thank you, president.”
Kirari smirked, removing one of her arms from around Sayaka to pluck another chocolate from the box while Sayaka turned to face her. Sayaka naively held out her hand, then spluttered when Kirari placed the chocolate on her own tongue and pulled Sayaka closer.
***
“Oh! I remember this episode, it’s so good Ririka, you are going to love it!” (Y/n) was practically vibrating in her spot on the couch.
“Really? I’m looking forward to it.” Ririka smiled between bites of pizza.
Hopefully they could make a habit of this. Who knows, maybe she and (Y/n) would actually pass up Kirari and Sayaka in terms of pursuing a romantic relationship at a reasonable pace. Ririka cautiously leaned her shoulder against (Y/n)’s and she received a kind smile that enveloped her more warmly than the snug blanket over her lap.
Best Valentine’s Day ever.
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The Expendables
A brief ditty about three kill options (and I kept it under 1500 words!).
Post-KotET
“All right. You go get your stuff, and I’ll keep an eye on the ship.”
Arcann nodded, silently, as he opened the shuttle door and jumped out onto the landing pad on top of the palace at the heart of Zakuul.
Annnnd that left Koth, with Senya, waiting. “You aren’t going with him?”
Senya looked out of the viewport at the traffic that moved below them. “I took my possessions with me when I left his father. There’s nothing for me here.”
“Ok.” Koth drummed his fingers on the dashboard. It wasn’t out of nerves -- not anymore. He was impatient. He didn’t want to be here. He loved Zakuul.. but his home wasn’t on this planet. Wasn’t anywhere yet, to be honest. He was only here because Lana asked him to do her a favor.
Both Koth and Senya knew what that favor really was.
“Maybe you can help hurry him along? Grab a bag, make a suggestion...?” Koth gestured toward the door.
Senya shook her head. “He needs his privacy. The Alliance has watched him very closely since he arrived -- which I understand!” Senya said a bit quicker and louder than necessary. “I just want to give him a few moments alone with his thoughts.” She cast a look at the door that led down into the residence. “You know, they’re turning this place into a museum. And a mall.”
Koth leaned back in his seat. “Well, finally gives people a chance to see what their taxes paid for over the last few centuries.”
Senya sat on the edge of her seat, constantly looking over at where her son had disappeared.
Koth sighed, loudly.
“Could you --?”
“You just don’t want to catch him getting his girlie holo collection.”
Senya huffed, then withdrew slightly. “I-I-I don’t know if he has girlie holos... or boy-ie holos. I left before he ... went through those changes.” Senya’s shame was laced through the sentence. She was never going to forgive herself for leaving, was she.
“Well, he clearly likes girls, at least, since that’s why I’m here.” Koth looked over at Senya. “You let Arcann try to ask the Captain out or something, and now I’m here because Lana doesn’t want Spy Guy letting Arcann accidentally, mysteriously fall off a building.”
Senya pressed her lips together before replying. “War -- conflict makes and breaks relationships. I didn’t know how permanent --”
“Woman, your son threw his kinda sorta girlfriend into a freezer for five years. He didn’t get over it. And now you let Arcann make a move? You’re lucky Theron kept that to himself instead of telling the Wookiee. You wanna see paternal panic? Lord.” Bowdaar was awesome, and Koth would have him serving on the Gravestone if he didn’t know the big guy wouldn’t stand being parted from Eva, his captain.
Senya closed her eyes, and for a split second, Koth thought he’d made her cry and that was soooo NOT HIS INTENT. Koth’s internal panic was quelled when she spoke, more tired and frustrated than tearful. “It was the first time he expressed any positive interest in anyone that wasn’t me or his siblings. So many years since he... Since he wasn’t trying to get revenge or best a rival in combat or play politics. Maybe he was too awkward and came on too strong -- but I didn’t want to discourage that the first positive impulse he’d had in over ten years.”
Koth tipped his forehead forward to rest on the piloting controls of the shuttle. He’d spent years blaming Arcann for the downfall of Zakuul. Knowing that it was the old emperor playing everyone made him hate Arcann less, but... it was honestly mindblowing to watch the guy hit ‘reply all’ to a Odessen holonet announcement to ask about how to do laundry. It proved how disconnected Arcann had been from reality all these years.
(Lana made Koth help, once she knew via securiy holo that he’d literally been sitting next to Arcann as he’d done it.)
Arcann needed a friend to clean out his old apartment. Well, the Force, Providence, the Galaxy, Lana -- they all moved in mysterious ways that had led Koth here.
He unbuckled his seatbelt.
**
Koth found Arcann standing in the remains of a bedroom. It had been blasted to shreds, the contents of every chest, every drawer scattered everywhere. A fire had kindled on the bed for awhile before dying out. Koth let out a low whistle, which caught Arcann’s attention. “Vaylin redecorated in my absence.”
Koth stifled a laugh. Arcann had a dry wit that came out when he wasn’t brooding or being clueless about normal people life. “She leave you anything?”
“A few things.” Arcann held up an old carved box.
Koth recognized it as one of those multi-dimensional chess sets that only the richest people could afford. “Anything I can do to help?” Koth offered.
Arcann motioned around the room. “If you find something not broken, let me know.” The former ruler turned his scarred side in Koth’s direction. “That might only be yourself.”
A dry wit with a heavy dose of self-hate.
The two men sifted through the remains of the room. Koth managed to find one or two datapads that escaped Vaylin’s wrath. Arcann pulled some clothes out of his closet -- all whites and blacks. Maybe they could get the smoke damage out back at base.
As Koth straightened up and cracked his back, he heard Arcann say, “She let me live because it infuriated my father.”
“Huh?”
“He told her to kill me. So many times. Even as she took the throne -- you know what she said to him?”
Koth hadn’t asked anyone what happened at the time. He just sat in the ship, gazing down at Zakuul as all the lights blinked back on as people emerged from hiding and the darkness.
“She told him she’d give the throne back to me, just to spite him, if he didn’t shut his mouth.”
Koth smiled openly now. “That sounds like Eva, all right.” His grin waned slightly as he saw Arcann standing there, torn between laughing and ... not laughing at all. “Well, at least you know she hates you less than your old man.”
“I’m alive because of her spite. It... it hadn’t occurred to me that wasn’t the best basis for... companionship.. until after...”
Koth read Arcann like a damn holonovel -- captains knew how to do that for the safety of their ship, getting a quick assessment in just a few glances. “You went back after she gave you the brush off. And she got meaner about it. Told you--”
“Agent Shan’s presence in her ship after hours also bolstered the fact she hadn’t spared me out of any affection.”
Koth cringed. “Arcann, you gotta give up on her or else she will kill you. Or he will. Or Bowdaar. Or the rest of her crew, now that they’re back with her. She’s got a lot of people who aren’t afraid of going to jail for her.”
And Koth was one of them, if he was honest. Technically, he’d go to jail for Lana after Lana killed someone for her.
Arcann exhaled through his nose. “She didn’t kill me at the ball, so I assumed she --” His throat bobbed as he stared around his old room one last time, balling up the smoke-infested garments and tucking them under his arm. “I only knew love and hate. There was no mercy. There was never an in-between. Nobody was permitted to live unless they were a stalwart ...Nothing was neutral or grey. There was just white and black.” He looked down at his clothes. “I have much to learn.”
Arcann dropped the white and black clothes. As he started to let the chess set slip from his hands, Koth darted over, easily intercepting the small chest before it hit the floor. “Hey, the wardrobe needs an update. But... you’ll find someone good to play with on Odessen, someday.” Koth grasped the chest one-handed and braced it against his chest to make sure he didn’t drop it. “For now, you’ll have to settle for teaching my impatient self.”
Arcann smiled, slightly.
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Of Monsters and Men
Chapter 3- The Ends Beginning
Summary: You and Geralt travel to Blaviken in search of more coin, though you’re wary of getting into trouble. Unsurprisingly you do in fact, get into trouble.
Warnings: long chapter, ya know gore and such, Geralt just being a babe and reader dealing with the shit she gets into for this man
Masterlist
You looked up to the dreary sunless sky, not a single speck of blue to give you a hopeful sign that the world is not as unhappy as the swamp you're currently standing in. Your surroundings disgustingly emit the gnarly stench of shit and death, seeping into your nostrils against your will as you stand idly by the waters grimy edge with your silver weapon unsheathed in your right hand.
Roach patiently keeps her distance by the leafless trees as she waits for her master who's currently under the water fighting a very pissed off kikimora. Geralt insisted that he would be the one to get into harms way and lure the ugly fucker out from it's hiding place. You, not wanting to get your clothes wet, agreed to his proclamation.
Although right now, with no visible signs of life from beneath the murky waters, you're wondering if letting him handle it all alone was the best course of action. Soon your worrisome thoughts evade you once Geralt and the screaming kikimora burst forth from the inky pond. He's lifted out of the air with a grunt as the beast plunges him back down into the depths. You shake your head and turn to Roach who takes a single step back.
Rolling your eyes you let out a sigh, "Fine. I'll help him." You exclaim to the mare with a wave of your large dagger, she simple snorts in reply.
As you approach the water you can hear the guttural muffled sounds from the battle beneath the surface. You had not anticipated on getting soaked today and you're not about to now. With a swift jump you launch yourself over the submerged kikimora and with the power only gifted by your vampirian mother, you float above the beast.
Begrudgingly you reach your hand down into a couple inches of murky water, grasping the creature by its slimy neck, once your fingers have clawed into its flesh do you then pull up. The bastard screeching in pain as it breaks the surface, greeted by a quick slice to one of its protruding arms that hastily reaches for your body. You let go and glide back over to the bank as Geralt emerges from the water to curtly stab the monster through its mouth, the beast instantly going limp.
He turns a pale face to you, his eyes an obsidian shade of pure shining black as he breaths heavily from the messy battle fought only moments ago. Sloshing through the swamp water, he makes his way onto the shore to stand next to your smirking face.
"Yeah you really had that under control, I could tell from the way you were slowly getting turned into a drowner." You can't see it but you can practically feel his eye roll.
"And you didn't want to get a little wet." He mutters between heavy breaths while you flick water off of your hand.
You smile, sticking your dagger back into its leather sheath, "The only way I'm getting a little wet is by watching you stand naked in front of me as you sensually clean your sword." He laughs at your sarcastic remark, an odd but pleasant contrast to the dull bubbling of the swamp.
He then walks back into the water to cut a large piece off of the dead kikimora, hopefully it's enough to pay for some new clothes for your smelly Witcher. Once the beast is set and tied do you wait for him to mount Roach before he lets a hand out for you to take. Pulling you up into his lap, he slings his arms around your sides to better hold onto the leather reigns.
The ride to the gloomy village of Blaviken is a short one, but nonetheless enjoyable as you lean yourself into his warm body. Finally do you reach the wooden gates where Roach continues her trek into the town. As Geralt does, you keep your hood up, doing your best to hide behind your disheveled hair. No one bothers to look at you and Geralt when Roach comes to a stop, the two of you getting down, Geralt tying her up before you both head into the closest tavern for something to drink on this dreary morning.
As expected, you can feel the distrustful gazes from the tavern goers as they watch you and Geralt walk up to the bar. Ignoring their wary eyes, you take a seat as the lady bartender asks what you'd like to drink, seemingly uncaring or oblivious to the strangeness of you two. Geralt sets some coin onto the table getting straight down to business, as per usual.
"Point us to the alderman's house." He abruptly asks, she kindly answers him while pointing in the direction of the desired residence before she's cut off by a greasy slightly heavy looking man who shoos her away. He quickly steps behind the bar, glancing warily between the two of you.
"We don't want your kind here, Witcher." He states, only the tiniest bit of fear flashing through his grey eyes, but that's gone quickly as he glares over at you, "Or yours, daughter of demons." Spits the bearded man at you this time. Apparently your kinds reputation precedes you still, no matter, he is of little concern at the moment.
"The alderman, tell me where he is and we'll be on our way." Asks Geralt once again, nothing sinister lacing his words, although you're becoming irritated knowing that a group is forming behind you. And right on cue does a smiling bulldog of a man appear before you, snapping at Geralt about how he doesn't give the orders around here, adding in another insult to perhaps feel more superior. Geralt simply hums in response, turning his head to you in a silent plead for you to behave.
You begrudgingly listen and keep your head down as the bearded man orders you two to leave or face a rope around your necks. Geralt stands up and yet again is taunted and challenged by this snarky little man, who then promptly insults the both of you before calling to his men to stand ready. Oh can nothing ever be easy?
Suddenly a woman's voice speaks out among the crowd like a spark in the darkness, you quickly turn your cloaked head to face this mystery woman. Her short brunette hair is messy as her dark eyes scan over the three of you, curiosity in her calculated gaze. She wears an all red top, two black leather gauntlets embroidered in gold protect her lower forearms, and a single golden broach sits pinned above her left breast. She snaps at the bearded man to stay quiet as her eyes find your shadowed ones.
She gifts a mutual nod of respect before politely apologizing for her men's rudeness as she then askes them to leave, to your surprise, the bulldog-like man listens and they all leave without another word. For the next however long, she kindly buys you both a drink as she wonders of your whereabouts and the agreeable need for Geralt and some new clothes. When suddenly a random girl appears asking about the kikimora, Geralt turns to you and with a nod to Renfri, the both of you are off.
You lead the way to Roach as Geralt silently follows, the girl rambling on about nothing interesting but her own personal troubles and little adventures. Until her eyes light up once they find the bloody leg of the dead kikimora hidden under a bag atop Roach's back. To yours and Geralt's disappointment she claims that her father, the alderman, will have no use for the swamp beast. But as you both turn to leave she announces that instead you should speak to Master Irion, the village wizard, insisting he will pay for ingredients for elixers. With an annoyed roll of your eyes do you turn to follow the girl, Geralt smiling at your irritated face. Now you're going to meet a fucking wizard, just what you wanted.
The alderman's daughter leads you and Geralt down a gravely dirt road as Geralt holds onto Roach's leather reigns, the three of you walking past vendors and fresh produce stalls, "Have you ever killed a succubus? A striga? Werewolf? She-wolf?" Pries the smiling girl as she walks in between you and Geralt.
"That's not a thing." He replies bluntly.
"Okay then...a dhampir?" She questions, glancing at you for a split second.
You kick a small rock that lays in your path before answering, "You're more insightful then you look." She smiles sweetly at you, giving you a knowing glance, so she's aware of what you are, interesting.
"Well, I think all that monster killing makes you two heroes." She cheerfully boasts as her attention falls upon Geralt, "My mother says you're the offspring of foul sorcery, a diabolic creation, a filthy degenerate born of Hell." She exclaims before turning to look at you, "She thinks even less of your kind, told me you're a rarity or maybe the only one, a princess of darkness...heir to the black throne, or maybe it was the blood throne? Can't remember....you two ever been to Hell? I've never even left Blaviken. Because my mothers never left Blaviken and if it's good enough for Libushe, then it's good enough for Marilka. That's my name. Marilka, like milk." She says while turning her curious gaze over to Geralt, then back to you, "What's your guys' names?"
"Geralt."
Marilka's face shifts from satisfaction for learning of your Witchers name, back to curiosity in a split second, "Like garroter? Nice...where are you from Geralt?" She wonders.
"Rivia."
Marilka nods in understanding as she focuses her attention back to you, "What's your name?"
"Y/N....of Alkatraz." You tell her, giving her the name of your homeland so she won't ask you another question, cause lets be honest this kid doesn't need to know anything else about you. It may give her nightmares.
"I don't know where either of those places are, but I could learn, if you two'd let me." She inquires, hopeful that she may get something out of her questioning.
"No." Replies Geralt to her utter disappointment.
"Because I'm a girl and girls can't become Witchers. Which is probably the stupidest thing I've ever heard." She sasses, earning a smile from both yours and Geralt's dirty faces. "I want more...I have to be more, because I don't know what to do in Blaviken for the rest of my life, except go to the boring old market."
"And kill rats." Replies Geralt with a tiny amused grin as he shares a glance with you.
"And dogs." You add, causing Marilka to laugh as a large smile appears onto her young beaming face.
——
"Here we are." She announces once the three of you make it to the looming tower of grey stone, the house of the wizard. Geralt gives Marilka the reigns to Roach as you walk closer under the brick archway where giant wooden doors await. Even before Geralt is able to reach for the doors do you touch his arm, a wary expression clear on your face, you can see the way that the doors shimmer with magic. Something unseen to the eyes of men, or even a Witcher for that matter.
"An illusion." You explain, not wanting to go any further but also not wanting to miss out on what alluring mystery lays hidden behind the enchanted doors.
"I can hold your hand." He teases.
"You can kiss my arse."
"I can do that too." Whispers Geralt while you let out a breathy laugh.
Letting go of his arm, you both enter at the same time to a bright vibrant wall of enticing rainbows that dances across your vision as your gaze adjusts to the view. Your scarlet eyes going wide, first in awe of the spirited beauty of the gardens before a shocked laugh escapes your mouth once you see the naked women tending to the trees. Oh.
You turn to find Geralt seemingly quite disinterested and looking rather cleaner then he once was, his white hair much snowier then a moment ago, his black cloak gone from his shoulders, as well as your own. The both of you look upon a great floating tree in the center of the sun kissed courtyard, your ears suddenly pricking to the sound of closely approaching footsteps to your right. You snap your head over to the sight of a richly dressed man holding a wooden staff.
"Greetings. I am Stregobor....Master Stregobor. Sorcerer." Announces the greying bearded man who holds an oaken staff with a white crystal encircled at the top by the bending wood holding it prisoner. Why does he look oddly familiar?
"We have a kikimora for Master Irion." Mutters Geralt bluntly, Stregobor flashing a tiny grin in curiosity for the random presence of yourself and Geralt.
"Yes, well, forgive the confusion. Irion created this tower, but he's been dead 200 years. So, in order to honor him, I've taken his name as my...personal sobriquet." Explains Stregobor, Geralt simply hums in reply as you put a hand on your hip. Wizards and their deceitful tricks.
Scoffing, you glance around your current setting, "He create this illusion, too?" You ask with a raise of your eyebrow, the wizard turns with an unabashed smile to look at his pleasurable surroundings.
"No, his is, uh...this is my own creation. Helps pass time more delightfully." Answers Stregobor with a telling half grin upon his aging face, Geralt watches the irritation grow onto your clean dirt-less face as you shake your head.
Crossing your arms over your chest you eye up the old wizard, "Because you're in hiding, Stregobor." His demeanor immediately changes at your blunt reply, he didn't anticipate you'd figure him out so quickly. Why else would a renowned mage flee to this horseshit of a town and change his name to the long dead wizard?
He ever-so-slightly turns his head to the side, eyeing you distrustfully, "How very clever of you...princess, of night." States the annoyed wizard who hands you a glare, Geralt smirks as he watches this small tension filled interaction between the two of you. In all honesty, you're not surprised that this wizard knows who you are. You've been around for quite some time on this Continent, and anyways, you are the only dhampir known to exist who also happens to be a princess to the true Vampire Queen of the Northern Kingdoms.
With a curt turn of his body does Stregobor retain his once lost, now more welcoming demeanor as he nods for yourself and your Witcher to follow. He leads you two down an open hallway, where naked ladies and fruit filled trees remain on either side minding their business. They aren't real after all.
"Not often do we see the likeness of you two here in Blaviken." Admits the wizard, his fancy robes swishing as he walks.
"Not many of our likeness left." Replies Geralt as you walk down the stone hallway by his side, your eyes still wandering over the strange beauty of this pleasant illusion in contrast to the gloominess of Blaviken.
"Hm. Well Witcher I'd offer you my condolences, but...I seem to remember that Witchers don't feel...anything." You keep your eyes ahead of you, he doesn't know you and Geralt are most definitely a thing, "I'm grateful destiny brought you two to me."
"Marilka brought us to you." Inquires Geralt as he averts his golden eyes from the bareness of the magical women, a grim expression lingering onto your features the longer you stay in this dreadful palace of lies. Suddenly Stregobor walks in front of the both of you, stopping you from walking any further.
"Oh, Marilka. Marilka works for me. Now and then. On matters of great importance." Reveals Stregobor as he glances between you and Geralt, of course the little shit was a simple messenger, you should have known a wizard would want to see the only Witcher and dhampir within a two-hundred mile radius who happen to be in town.
Geralt lets out an annoyed sigh as you lean against a white marble pillar, "A reclusive sorcerer who uses an alias and hires a young girl to procure him a Witcher and one of the only known dhampirs. You don't want our monster. You want us to kill yours." Declares Geralt calmly as the old wizard stands with a satisfied smirk upon his face. Your head tilts as you cross your arms over your chest, giving Stregobor a judgmental look.
"Very clever. Indeed." Muses the wizard with a knowing squint of his blue eyes.
"What kind?" You wonder, intrigued with this new information that could possibly result in much needed coin.
Stregobor goes quiet for a second as his voice goes hushed, "The worst kind." His look turns wary, as you notice the concealed fear that flashes across his face, "The human kind." He moves in closer, like if he speaks too loud this human will hear his treachery and slay him on the spot, "Its name is Renfri." He whispers before abruptly turning and walking down the short stone steps to the gardens. You turn to give Geralt a quizzical look, he simply hums with a small shrug, so instead you decide to follow Stregobor to find the reasoning behind his assumptions about Renfri.
She doesn't appear to look like the worst kind of human. Now you've personally seen the worst kinds of humans in your travels, this all intrigues you so.
"Destiny has many faces, Witcher. Mine for example, is beautiful on the outside, but...hideous on the inside." Explains Stregobor as he holds a perfectly red apple in his right hand while Geralt leans his muscular arm against a stone fountain while you stand next to him. "She has stretched her bloody talons towards me." He claims, not a hint of falseness lacing his words, but you're not convinced of his rambling quite yet.
Fumbling with the leather gauntlets on your forearms do you look up at him, "Wizards are all the same. You talk nonsense while making wise and meaningful faces." You growl, "Don't waste our time." Stregobor ceases the illusion of the red apple in his hand, giving you a humored half smile, knowing he's been seen through for his vagueness.
"Have you ever heard of the....Curse of the Black Sun?" Starts the wizard as his eyes dart between you and Geralt, who's not particularly keen on learning about more mysterious history that this strange old man may have possibly been involved in.
"Yes. Although I'm assuming you'd like to tell it." You sass, the wizard ignores your remark as he turns back to Geralt, explaining further.
"First full eclipse in 1,200 years. It marked the imminent return of Lilit, demon goddess of the night sent to exterminate the human race. According to the wise mage Eltibald, Lilit's path was to be prepared by 60 women wearing gold crowns who'd fill the river valleys with blood." You watch as Geralt hums in response to the wizards superstitious nonsense.
"Doesn't rhyme. All good predictions rhyme." Replies Geralt unimpressed.
"I studied the girls born around the Black Sun, and I found horrendous internal mutations among them. I tried to cure them, locked them in towers for safekeeping, but the girls always died." Your face twists in disgust at the atrocious proclamations Stregobor is freely giving you. No shit they died, who wants to be locked away?
"Internal mutations?" Pries Geralt.
"They were autopsied, of course, to confirm my suspicions. But eliminating these women was the lesser evil. They could have drowned entire kingdoms in blood." He states confidently, sure of his actions, "If you'd been alive during Falks's Rebellion, seen what I saw..."
"Innocent women are dead." Mutters Geralt, anger low in his gravely voice as you stare daggers in Stregobor's direction, what was this mans deal with hurting these poor women, how did he know if these princess' would have actually have done what was supposedly said?
"But not Renfri, the dark eyed one." You add, the wizard looks away knowing he's been caught for his interior motives, "She's after you, can't imagine why." You jab with a smirk as he walks around the fountain.
"Daughter of King Fredefalk of Creyden. I delivered the princess myself in the middle of the afternoon in pitch black." He says while keeping his gaze onto something nearby as he remembers his past dealings.
"Under the Black Sun, so....she's cursed." Muses Geralt as he throws his arms to his sides, not believing in this ridiculous story one bit, Stregobor whips around, an offended look upon his face.
"Do you consider me a fool, Witcher?" He snaps.
"Very much." His blue eyes glare at you with malice as you smile a sweet fangy grin back at him before continuing his explanation, still agitated that he's not getting any help from either of you.
"Do you think I did not conduct research? Renfri was acutely affected. Her stepmother, Aridea, told me she tortured a canary, strangled two puppies, even gouged out her maid's eye with a comb."
"She would have fit right in with my family then." You whisper with a light chuckle, he simply ignores you, a small smile flashing onto Geralt's face.
"I admit what happened next was not ideal, but...with the lives of Adrea's own children on the line, we had to act. So I dispatched someone to follow Renfri into the woods. We found him in the brush, Renfri's antique brooch jammed into his ear. After that, I organized a manhunt to find the princess, but...eh...she was gone." He rambles with a dismissive wave of his hands as he turns away from you both once again, remembering aged memories, "Two years. Until she reappeared, robbing and murdering merchants on the roads of Mahakam. Impaled them on sticks at first, but soon, she picked up sword skills. And now no man can defy her, it's said." Inquires Stregobor with a troubled look in Geralt's direction.
"You're not a man. You're a magician." States Geralt, implying that Stregobor should be able to handle this shit himself, considering he's an actual wizard and all.
"She's resistant to magic." Reveals Stregobor dismally.
Your face turns to a mix of confusion and curiosity, "That's impossible in humans." You add, never had you heard of something like this before.
"Not...mutated ones. She's chased me for years, bent on revenge. And now she attacked me here, just as you two have arrived." Declares the wizard in a hushed voice as he glances from you to Geralt, "Destiny." He whispers dramatically, "Kill her. I'll pay whoever lands the fatal blow, anything."
Geralt lets out a sigh, "We kill monsters."
"The kikimora kills because it's hungry. Renfri kills for pleasure. She is a monster. She is the last of Lilit's women. And she possess the power to destroy us all." Insists Stregobor as he leans in closer to Geralt who does not look pleased.
"If she's the last, this demon goddess cannot return considering you killed them all."
The old wizard gives you a look, "I did what was necessary for the survival of the human race, she is after me. I would rather keep my life and keep her from murdering anyone else just because she can. She has the power to bring forth unspeakable calamity."
"I don't believe anyone has that power." You reply, gifting this nutcase a less then friendly expression as you turn to leave without another word.
"You will sorely regret this." Calls out Stregobor.
"Will we?" Speaks your Witcher before turning and walking over to the small staircase leading away from the gardens. You leave Geralt on the steps, not caring for him and this wizards small exchange of words dealing with choosing between the lesser evils. You walk down the short sunny stone hallway, past more naked women and plant life as you make your way for the enchanted doors.
Enough with this mess.
——
After the events of earlier, consisting of an info dump of unneeded disturbing knowledge thrust upon you and Geralt by a rightfully paranoid old wizard, you and your silver haired man made sure to find a place in the nearby forest to camp for the night away from the village, and it's watchful residents. He grinds up some type of healing herb as you pet Roach, feeding her a well deserved carrot that you stole from the market.
Suddenly your nose catches the scent of Stregobor's worst fears, you turn in the direction of the approaching woman, a protective hand still on the mane of Roach. Renfri silently nods to you as you glance down to where Geralt is crouched, wordlessly implying for her to leave you alone and to discuss her intentions with the Witcher instead. Renfri accepts your soundless order without a word, turning she walks towards Geralt where she squats down just the same.
While petting Roach, you can't help but eavesdrop on their conversation. Renfri explains in dreadful first hand detail of what Stregobor's men really did to her in the woods before letting her live, those sick bastards. She then explains her reasoning that led her to where she is now, on her bloody war path of revenge and that now she wants you two to kill Stregobor in place of herself. Exclaiming it's the lesser evil, something you've heard too much of today which has you wondering what destiny has in store.
Geralt brushes her off as he stands up and walks over to you and Roach, Renfri following.
"I could have become so many things." She says longingly, a small smile upon her lips, "Queen Calanthe of Cintra, she just won her first battle at Hochebuz. But here I am, trying to convince you I'm not.."
"A monster." You interrupt as her gaze locks onto you.
"How am I to know?" She asks, "When I cut my finger I bleed...That's human right? When I overeat, my stomach aches. When I'm happy, I laugh. When I'm upset, I swear. And when I hate someone for stealing my whole life away from me, I kill him."
Geralt hums in thought as you purse your lips together at her truthful words before walking a couple feet away from them, her dark eyes flicker from you to Geralt, "People call you a monster too."
"A mutant." He corrects.
She smiles knowingly as her gaze settles onto your face, "You're more monster then the two of us. What if they come after you? Attack you? Why not kill them?"
"Because then I am what they say I am." You share a glance with Geralt, "We both are."
"If I tell you, Witcher..." Eyes set over to you, "..fellow princess, that I can neither forgive Stregobor nor renounce my revenge, it that it? I admit I'm a monster?"
"Yes." You add before taking a step closer to Renfri, "Or you can leave Blaviken and finally live. You choose, princess."
Geralt leads Roach up the small hill as you walk past Renfri to follow, she stands there a moment in defeat before turning her head to face your retreating forms, "What if that's not my final choice? What if I want more? What if I deserve it?"
Geralt halts as you pause your movement to face Renfri, "Then what? Kill him and be done with it? You deserve your wrath, but he deserves lasting fear for his own crimes. Maybe that old fuck was right and the daughters born under the Black Sun would bring chaos to this world...however that time is long done with. Lilit isn't coming, and you can choose to be free."
"He deserves death."
"He does, but if you kill him. You will always be hunted for this." You explain truthfully, "Renfri, you could leave this all behind and know he will always fear you for the rest of your days, is that not enough? Must you murder and be prosecuted for it too? Never free, never to travel in peace again? Is that what you want?"
Her scowl begins to slowly turn into a deep frown at your insightful words of wisdom. She knows you're right but cannot stop how her heart and soul feels towards everything she's ever set her mind to in regards to this wizard. She glares at the ground while you turn to travel elsewhere at last, the both of you leaving Renfri by the stream to deal with her own conflicted thoughts.
——
"Are you talking to Roach again about your monster slaying?" You quip as a smirk dances across your face. He looks up at you from petting Roach to shake his head with an embarrassed smile as he promptly walks over to sit upon a log and continue his grinding of that healing herb from earlier.
He glances up at you as you approach him, "Oh how I've missed your witty mouth." Muses Geralt with a half smile as you take off your cloak and go to sit down next to him.
"I just went to take a piss, calm your thoughts." He chuckles in amusement as your eyes find his hand, watching intently a he focuses his attention onto the boring task, "What hurts now?"
"Nothing. This is for when I actually get injured." You click your tongue in reply, an appealing idea popping into your mind while you silently move your hand, letting your fingers lightly touch his thigh.
Biting your lip you try and watch for a sign, "Why don't you use those strong hands of yours for something less, tedious." He immediately halts his actions, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he slowly turns his head to you. Raising an eyebrow at your more sensual implications.
"If the lady insists." He mutters, setting the bowl onto the leafy forest floor as he leans in closer to you, your lips making heated contact.
Under the cover of darkness, with only the small burning of the dwindling firelight do you make love to your Witcher until the moon sits high into the night sky. He feels amazing and works as a much needed distraction from the tiresome events of the day, you being the same for him.
You wake up with a start as Geralt mumbles Renfri's name, waking himself up in the process from whatever strange dream he must have been having. Suddenly your eyes go wide in realization, Renfri had claimed she would leave Blaviken in the morning, but you think otherwise.
"The market."
——
You and Geralt walk through the dreary village, no cloaks or thick leather armor adorning either one of your bodies except for your gauntlets and the thicker laced material around your torso. He carries his silver sword in his right hand, holding the blade upwards as to conceal it better from anyone directly in front of him. You walk steadily by his side, your dagger sheathed at your hip, you haven't come here to shed blood. But you know better then to assume otherwise, your suspicions further coming to light when your crimson eyes lock onto the balding bulldog looking man from yesterday in the tavern. One of Renfri's men, he looks ready to fight, with a smirk upon his smug face and a strange weapon clutched in his right hand, more of Renfri's men gathering behind him.
He spits at your feet, "She knew you two'd come." Assures the man, stopping a small distance away from you and Geralt, about five more of her followers spread about behind him.
"Where's Renfri?" Grumbles Geralt calmly, not particularly fond of what may follow.
"She's at the tower with your little friend, Marilka." The bald one sneers, a grim smile still holding onto his lips. A dark haired man in dirty faded green clothing with soot smeared about his lean face steps forward, standing next to the bald one.
"She gave us a message to pass on to you both. You have to choose the lesser evil." Challenges the dark haired man. The lesser evil, hmm.
A slightly fatter man steps forth, "It's an ultimatum." He insists while pulling out his sword from its sheath, "Get it?"
Half of them are giving you nasty smirks as they bare their own weapons, sure of themselves in how things are about to turn out for them, they have no idea just how fucked they truly are. Though you'd rather not begin this insignificant battle considering they're just men who have been blinded and manipulated by a rightfully furious princess. Why can't they just all fuck off to the woods and maybe fall down a hill?
They move in place, all ready to do some damage when another one spits at the ground. "Fuck." Mutters Geralt as he shares a dismal glance with you. No sooner does this happen do your ears prick at the familiar sound of a crossbow trigger being pressed, thus launching an arrow that slices through the air with a distinctive sing.
Time slows and you watch as a sharp arrow follows its masters path straight for Geralt's chest, in an instant he cuts it down from its path with a swift ploy of his sword. The arrow falls to the muddy ground, forgotten as soon as another man charges him, yelling out a battle cry as he ignores you, heading directly for Geralt with a quick swing of his sword. A man with an axe catches your gaze, rage in his grey eyes as he gives you an ugly smile before making a heated dash in your direction.
He swings his axe up in preparation for the death blow he's about to give, in the precious seconds that he takes to keep his arms up, you take this opportunity to unsheathe your dagger and drive it straight through his vulnerable skull. Pulling it out he instantly falls to the ground with a hard thud, blood spurting everywhere; another man throws his sword at you while admitting his own battle cry.
You skillfully duck under his powerful swing, bringing your dagger up to slice open his torso in the process, his screams filling the morning air as his insides fall out of him, you don't look back to watch as he falls, dying in the mud. You race past the crossbowman who's still frantically loading in another bolt, Geralt taking care of the dark haired man in the background.
Four more of Renfri's men charge at you, swords in one hand and shields in the other. A large man screams at you as he throws his heavy sword towards your shoulder, you quickly manifest yourself into a pack of screeching black bats. Flying yourself past the surprised man and his other friends before shifting back into your original form. They turn towards you in frightful bewildered confusion, completely taken aback by your unexpected display of abilities. In this time you quickly jab your dagger through the throat of the last man closest to you. Blood spurts out of his fresh wound as you take a step back, suddenly the other three are thrust backwards by the force of Geralt's magic. One of them quickly recovers and launches himself in your direction, leaving his two other companions to die at the hands of the Witcher.
He smartly keeps his shield in front of him for protection as he swings his sword at you. You turn to your right and jump up onto the wooden wall of someone's house as the man slashes at you, missing his target. You jump down behind him and in one swift motion pull his head back, slitting a deep cut into his throat. He falls to the ground, choking on his own blood as he bleeds out into the dirty streets of the market. In an instant Geralt is at your side when you hear the terrified shrieks of Marilka, who's trapped in the deadly clutches of Renfri, a silver blade pressed against her neck.
You stay where you are as Geralt slowly approaches Renfri, he keeps his sword lowered to the ground as she watches wide eyed and fuming.
"You chose." She whispers, shocked at how fast everything went to shit, her plans now ruined.
"Let the girl go." He pleads, Renfri looks down at Marilka in disgust, blade still closely pressed against her neck.
She scoffs, "I will kill her. I will kill everyone here until Stregobor comes down." She hisses, venom practically dripping off of her tongue.
"Leave Blaviken." Inquires Geralt as he pinches his fingers together, ready to use destructive magic on her, "It's not to late."
"Magic doesn't work on me." Fumes Renfri as Marilka whimpers beneath her arms, "Silver does, though." She adds softly, a look of pure hate upon her dirt smudged features.
"Silver is for monsters."
Renfri suddenly shoves Marilka to the side as she throws her blade upon her left arm, the fight of a lioness coursing through her veins.
"If we cross swords..." States Geralt cautiously as he begins to back up.
"I won't be able to stop." Breaths Renfri while advancing forward towards Geralt.
You watch as she skillfully lays into him, blocking his swings as he does the same with each of her deadly hits. He suddenly gains the upper hand and pins her against a wall, a second later she stabs him in the abdomen with her hidden dagger. He pulls back as she slashes at him once again, rage fueling her motives, they dance in the marketplace. The clashing of silver on silver and their heavy breathing is all that you can hear besides the beating of their hearts as blood pumps through them, adrenaline coursing throughout their systems.
You want to stop her, but this is their fight. Honor among warriors keeps you to the sidelines, this would be unfair of you to join him.
Without warning she slashes Geralt's muscular thigh, sending him to the ground with a grunt from the quick pain, in an instant she's thrusting her dagger towards his throat. But before she has a chance to lay anymore life threatening damage you swiftly block her small blade with your own weapon. Time to intervene apparently. Her face glares at you as she pulls back, your body hastily stepping in front of Geralt as he tries to gather himself, his leg throbbing in pain.
You carefully eye up the princess, "You should have left Blaviken." She smirks at your remark before swinging her sword at you. Quickly dodging her blow you shift to the side as she advances forward, launching more attacks left and right, you're able to block them with your dagger as this weapon's large enough to clash with hers. It doing enough damage on its own, even against her sword.
"No man can kill me." She hisses breathlessly as you clash your silver dagger against her shinning sword, she moves to the side as you skillfully thwart another one of her deadly assaults.
You lightly chuckle at her proclamation, "I am no man." You snap, whipping your body around to block another heated blow, she simply sneers at you, her eyes flashing with hatred.
Another slash of her sword sends you reeling backwards, your dangerous waltzing taking you and her between two houses and into another courtyard. When she brings her sword towards your stomach you quickly grab the hilt right out of her hand, taking her by surprise at your abrupt strength and inhuman reflexes. You point the ruthless silver at her jugular, your eyes two glowing rubies staring into her black stormy irises. She stares you down defiantly, nothing in her cold dark eyes but rage, you almost pity her.
Breathing heavily, you cautiously twist her sword in your hand so that your grip is holding it easier, keeping it close to her skin the whole time. You throw your large dagger to the ground, pulling away her sword from her throat and bringing it down to your side. Her brows furrow but only for a moment before she thrusts her dagger en route for your own windpipe. Dropping your sword, you quickly catch her hands clutched around her weapon with incredible speed as you then turn it around to face her. The blade pushes soundlessly into her flesh as you step closer, your blood spotted sweaty faces inches apart as her eyes go wide in realization.
You blink, pulling the dagger out with a shling sound in its wake, blood seeps out of it in a shiny tide of crimson enough to match the color of your saddened eyes. You hold her in your left arm, sword in your right, she stares up at you with nothing. You suddenly feel dreadful.
"The girl in the woods will be with near you always. She is his destiny." Gasps Renfri quietly as she searches for your eyes as something to hold onto before she's gone from this world. She didn't want this and neither did you, but she chose.
You can't help but feel horrible at what you've just done, none of this shit should have ever happened to her, she could of had a wonderful life with happy days and laughter. Instead she got betrayal and blood from the hands of a wicked wizard and his ill intent. You slowly lower her dying body onto the soft ground as shaky breaths rush from your lips. She's growing paler as a river of blood runs out of her wounds, dripping onto the mud.
Your expression contorts into a conflicted frown, you feel unbelievably terrible. "Rest now." You softly speak a last kindness, a pained expression painted across your face as you watch the light from her eyes dissipate away. When you rise from the ground Geralt stands quietly before you, a soft gaze lingering with your somber one.
"Why does it always end this way?" You wonder, anger rising into your words. Geralt lowers his head, reaching down to pick up your discarded dagger. He hands it to you, blood smeared over the hilt and blade. You walk away from the dead laying in the dry mud, Geralt following you.
—-
"Incredible. Marilka. Marilka? Marilka! Get me a cart." Demands Stregobor as he turns his head away from an approaching Geralt, "We'll take her to the tower for an autopsy."
He holds his sword up to the old wizards neck, "If you touch a single hair on her head, yours will be on the ground next." Growls Geralt, not an ounce of falsehood lacing his words. Stregobor gives him a quizzical look as you step closer to the two of them, irritation glaring back at him through eyes of crimson.
"Have you gone mad? Her mutation, it influences people. That's how she got these men to follow her. We need to take it." Insists the wizard, pausing for a moment to study Geralt's face, he tilts his head knowingly, "She got to you too, didn't she? That's why your beast had to slay her, jealousy perhaps." He concludes, glancing to you for a split second with a punchable smirk upon his aging features.
"Do not...touch her." Hisses Geralt in a low and menacing tone, Stregobor seemingly unaffected by his threats.
"Witcher." He states in the tone of a disappointed father, "You butchered bodies in the streets of Blaviken, with the princess of night at your side, killing at your command." He rules out, a crowd of shocked villagers gathering close by, sending angry looks your way.
"You're a beast." Shouts one man.
"You've both endangered the girl." Cries a woman.
"Beast!"
"She'll turn us into night creatures next.."
"Killers!"
Stregobor simply half smiles, "You took the law into your own hands." More insults are screamed and yelled at by the growing crowd of displeased rowdy villagers, "You both made a choice. And you'll never know if it was the right one." He whispers, pleased with how things have turned out for him.
Suddenly a rock cracks you in the side of your temple, another one catching Geralt on the side of his head as people from the crowd shout more insults and heated threats. He kneels to the ground, picking up Renfri's brooch as more rocks bounce off of his back. You keep onto your feet, glaring at Stregobor from the hood of your eyes as you tilt your head down, your hands balled into tight fists at your sides while more rocks are being thrown at you. Marilka walks in front of the two of you, a pitifully disappointed look upon her young face.
Her lip trembles, "Get out of Blaviken, the both of you. Don't ever come back." She warns as tears well up in the corners of her hazel eyes, Geralt slowly stands as he turns a downcast look in your direction. You give a small nod in mutual understanding, it's time to go. As you turn on your heel and take a step forward, the people of Blaviken immediately go silent as they watch your every move.
They back away as you and Geralt pass through the dreary streets on your way out of the village, soon they gain their confidence back as they scream and curse, clenching their fists. A couple bold teenagers chucking more stones, aiming to shed blood. Aiming to feel strong.
You and your Witcher keep your heads down, eyes upon the dirt as they scream and harass you both all the way to the gates. You make your way for the woods, dirt and blood marking unkindly upon your dispirited features.
Everything feels so wrong, and your head feels cloudy with troubled thoughts and dismal images. You just wanted to travel to Blaviken to get Geralt some new clothes, this is not how you intended for things to go.
-
Tagged: @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)
#the witcher x reader#the witcher x you#the witcher x y/n#geralt of rivia#geralt x reader#geralt x you#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt of rivia x you#the witcher#falcor the luck dragon stories#Of monsters and men fic
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Bad Girl (JJK x Reader) 🎀💜☁️🔞
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Good Girl AU, slight angst, fluff and romance, smut, oh god there’s so much filth
Warnings: DD/LG themes, it’s actually a major part in this so if you’re uncomfy you can skip this chapter thanks, GG is scared to talk to Koo about it, Koo thinks the worst, life lesson to learn from this: talk about shit, cockwarming, Dom!Jungkook, like he’s actually pretty demanding this time, Sub!Reader, non-sexual spanking, Bratty!Reader, toy usage, more to be added if I get carried away writing again
Summary: Jungkook has gotten so used to you being the sweet angel you are all the time, that he’s actually a bit confused when you’re not. Are you unhappy with him? Or do you only need to be put back into your place again?
Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl || Bad Girl || ???
Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban @teresaisla @tangledsparkles @dammit-jjk
Well, this was certainly new.
For hours, Jungkook had been immersed into the screen of his PC- yet he wasn't playing any video game at all. He was desperately trying to come up with ideas, new inspiration, as his mind was seemingly clogged up with random thoughts that didn't fit what he wanted.
Time to get his mind off of things?
Maybe, but Jungkook had ignored you almost the entire day already, the clock now nearing 4 in the evening. You promptly walked over to him, ignoring his attempts to tell you he did not have time right now, but simply seating yourself ontop of his thighs, taking your rightful place on your throne which was his lap. He bit his tongue as he closed his eyes for a second, refraining from saying anything you could take wrongly. "Baby, I have to finish this-" He started, voice growing a bit whiny at the end as his head fall backwards, chuckle escaping him at your struggle to open his fly while he was sitting. "As much as I love the idea I can't fuck you right now princess-" He said, but you shook your head.
"I'll wait then, I can be good." You stated, making his pupils widen at the way you said that. You pulled him out of the warmth inside his underwear, hands moving over the skin of his length as he slowly grew more firm inside your palms. You moved a bit, Jungkook helping you by holding your waist to make sure you couldn't slip off as he watched you curiously, pulling the fabric of your panties to the side as you began to lower yourself. He held you still before you could move.
"No no no wait, condom-" He said hurriedly, but you simply giggled, shaking your head. "Baby no, we talked about that-" He began again, but you looked at him with an innocent face.
"But we're not gonna do anything!" You said, and it dawned on him what you were trying to do.
Cockwarming?
He'd heard of it, Taehyung having told him once that he'd tried but failed, unable to sit still for so long. Yet for Jungkook this could be a challenge for himself to try and keep himself in check, to train his own will by simply leaving himself inside you. This would be the first time going bare, and he didn't want to mess it up. So he nodded, letting you lower yourself down on him, his member enterin you slowly, entirely new feeling as he noticed the way your walls welcomed him inside, warmth comforting in a way he could not describe. This was.. actually not that bad.
"Hm.. you're comfy baby?" He asked, and you nodded, resting your head on the inside of his shoulder as he held you, pulling his chair closer to his Screen again, mind now a bit more calm as he began to collect sketches and ideas more orderly, finally able to catch a decent train of thought. Sometimes you really had great ideas.
Again you'd bee searching for ways to tell Jungkook about things that had been bothering you. No, bothering wasn't the right word.. it was weighing you down, prohibiting you any kind of full forced happiness, because it always crept into the back of your mind, corrupting your thoughts with harsh visions of him calling you weird or even going as far as to leave entirely. After all, it was quite.. weird.
It wasn't like you were regressing into a full forced baby, no. You'd learned to take care of yourself even when you were falling into your headspace, knowing how to make yourself comfortable without any help of someone to watch over you. However, just like everyone else in this world, regardless of who, you craved to share these moments of full on vulnerability with someone you loved and trusted.
Jungkook.
It wasn't like you didn't trust him, but he was someone who'd put his own needs and interests behind just for you, and you didn't want that to happen. As selfish as it sounded, you wanted him to care for you because he wanted to, not because he felt as if he needed to do it in order to keep you happy. You could let go of it just to stay with him, if that was what it would take for you and him to stay together.
"Baby, I was gonna go to the store real quick, you need some..thing.?" His voice got a bit slower and died down eventually as you shut your laptop with quite the amount of force from being startled by him, making him furrow his brows a bit. "Everything alright?" He asked, now a bit more serious in tone as he could sense something off about you.
"Yeah! Sure, eh.. could you pick up some Milk? We're out of it almost so, uh.. yeah.." You said, smiling, yet without true intentions. Jungkook nodded, telling you goodbye as he put on his shoes, grim look on his face not diminishing at all as he thought about your behavior lately. It was quite worrying, how you now began to pick up on the habit of locking your phone with a passcode, not leaving your laptop open anymore, or how nervous you became every time he caught you on either of these devices.
What else was he supposed to think?
Weren't you happy with him? Had he done something wrong? He tried to think of something, anything that would explain you putting distance between you two so suddenly, yet he could not come up with something that would sound rational. And even with all the signs pointing towards it, he could not make himself belief you would genuinely go out and meet someone else behind his back; you were not like that at all. So what was really going on?
He almost dropped the milk carton in his hand as his phone buzzed, the message something that made his stomach drop.
'We need to talk.'
This was planned way better than executed.
Having Jungkook sit in front of you on the bed was making it even harder to just come out and say it. Every time your brain attempted to send the proper signals to your tongue, trying to open your lips to form words, they just wouldn't come out. It was as if you tried to drive a car with the breaks still pressed; it didn't work at all.
Yet you couldn't seem to loosen your breaks.
Jungkook sighed, running a hand over his face, as he took your hand into his, worried look on his face. "Look.." He began, and you watched him as his thumb gently drew circles on the back of your hand, his eyes averting your gaze. "If you want to break up-"
"NO!" You immediately said, loudly, startling both of you as you sat up straighter, grabbing his hand with both of yours, holding onto it as if it would disappear if you didn't. He looked at you with wide eyes, genuinely confused. That.. wasn't it? Then what had you so secretive and skittish lately? "I mean, except if you want to-" He smiled a bit, scooting forwards to have you closer, legs now on either side of his hips as you sat on his thighs.
"No, never. I thought you wanted to." He said, interlacing his fingers behind your back to keep you close, as he looked at you more calmly now. "But I know there's something you want to tell me." He hummed, trying to coax you out of your shell with a gentle tone of voice. It seemed to work as you visibly began to think. "It's alright, you can tell me anythi-" He started, but you cut him off.
"Do you know what.. uh.. you know, dd-lg means.?" You carefully asked, and his eyes widened for the nth time that day, looking at you with wonder. That.. that was what you were so worried about?
He simply nodded. "I know about it. Why?" He asked, even though now he had a hunch of what was actually the issue. It did explain a lot for him as he thought about all the instances you'd hinted at it in the past, never having the courage to actually say it out loud. "You're a little, is that it?" He wondered, and you nodded, looking down as he smiled gently, lifting your chin up. "Hey no, it's alright, really. I already suspected something like that, to be honest." He said, and your gaze finally found his.
"You did?" Weren't you secretive enough about it? Maybe he'd seen your search history, but then again, you were always so careful to only ever use incognito tabs and to always keep your phone and laptop close so he wouldn't accidentally stumble upon anything weird. Yet he proved again that you could hide basically nothing from him, as he smiled, absolutely not unnerved by any of it.
"Hmhm." He hummed as he visibly relaxed. "I mean it. It's okay." He said, and you fiddled with your fingers. "But that's not all there is, isn't it?" He asked, knowing what you wanted to ask, yet choosing not to take that burden from you. You needed to talk openly to him.
"I just.." You started, before looking at him. "So, you're like.. okay with it?" You asked, and he still smiled, while nodding to confirm your answer silently. "Would you.. like, you know.. take care of me, when I'm like this..?" You mumbled, and again confirmed, before verbally answering.
"I'll admit, I'm kinda.. uncomfortable with you calling me daddy though, if that makes sense, but I guess I'll eventually grow into it." He said, as you shook your head.
"you don't have to." You said, hugging him tightly as you began to rest your head onto his chest. "You'll just stay my 'Koo.." You hummed, as he chuckled, holding you close to him.
Yeah, he could definitely grow fond of that.
"No baby, we can't just order takeout all the time. It's not healthy." He argued, as you sat on the couch, pouting at him as you were getting ready to call back, just to have him turn around. "Don't even start young lady, No means no." He said sternly, making you deflate as you simply rested your chin on the back of the couch, shutting your mouth. Ever since you'd both agreed on the dynamic you now practiced, Jungkook had been slowly setting up more and more rules for you, some being more strict than others. You loved that, you were happy he was feeling comfortable with it, and deep down you knew it was in your best interest, yet you also only now realized how much freedom you'd had before. Yet even though you could feel the need to test your boundaries, you'd stayed compliant and a good girl until now.
Even though you were curious what he'd choose as punishments.
Jungkook had informed himself after your talk, silently learning more about what he should and shouldn't do. He was growing more and more into the role of an actual caregiver, having agreed to simply test things out instead of using someone else's rules or punishments as yours. Communication was key for you, and honesty as well; you were always free to tell him that you were feeling big, in which case your rules did not apply and you were free to do as you pleased. He trusted you to never use that as an advantage, simply believing in himself and his ability to spot lies on your face as soon as they'd leave your lips.
Something crinkling caught his attention.
"Y/n." He simply said, making you halter all movements as you cringed, caught in the act as you'd tried to open a pack of oreos on the couch, hidden from his sight. He'd heard you, however, and the way he called your actual name meant that he was everything but amused by your actions. "I believe we talked about having sweets before a meal as well." He said, feet stepping closer before he leaned over the couch, inked hand easily taking the sweet treats from your hands as you looked down your lap. Yet your toes wiggled in tension. Had you finally reached the end of his patience?
"Go and wait inside the bedroom until I call you out for dinner. No Laptop, and your phone stays here as well." He said, tone not leaving any room for arguments against his statement. Your lips turned downwards, yet you slowly complied, pulling out your phone and placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch, before walking inside your shared bedroom, attempting to close the door. "No, leave it open so I can still hear you." He said, and you sighed, before flopping down onto the bed.
Yet you also smiled.
He slowly learned more and more about what was right, and what wasn't.
For example, whenever you were feeling small, you were absolutely oblivious to anything of a sexual nature, which made him come to the conclusion that your littlespace and subspace actually were two different things. It made sense to him, the way your gaze would change as soon as you'd switch mindsets was a clear sign of what he could and could not do.
Sure, there have been awkward moments as well, and you had been crying a few times from too harsh punishments such as time outs as well- but that was part of the learning experience for both of you. You'd told him that you genuinely never had an actual caregiver in that sense, which only stroked his ego even more as he realized this was another first he'd claimed as his. Even if it was without actually knowing.
He felt proud.
"Koo?" You asked, eyes wide open and watching him from the doorway as he read through an article about a convention nearby showcasing some of the best airbrush artworks the town had to offer. He turned around in his chair, patting his thighs.
"You're feeling small?" He asked, and you nodded, walking towards him as you sat down on his lap, hugging his middle the best you could as you tried to read whatever he was reading. Something caught your attention as you called out his name again, pointing at the screen where his name was actually written. "Yeah, that's me." He confirmed, smiling at you.
"Why?" You asked cursiously, genuinely wanting to know, yet your mind was hazy, making it hard for you to form proper sentences. He didn't mind.
"Koo 's gonna be there and show his work to others." He said, and your eyes looked at him in awe, happy that he'd actually been chosen to be able to show his talent. You wanted to congratulate him, yet the only thing you truly got to do was hug him tighter, mumbling something that sounded like the word 'proud' into his sweater as he grinned, running a hand over your back. "Thank you princess, I'm pretty proud of myself too." He hummed, before closing the tab, picking you up and letting both of you fall onto his bed, tired from the last days of work, trying to perfect what he would be showcasing the upcoming week. You giggled before moving closer, laying flat on top of him as he sighed happily, eyes closing as you both drifted off.
“Huh, so now you wanna be a good girl?” He grunts our as he pushes your wrists back onto the bed, denying you any physical contact you desire to have with him. He decides what you get, and you look at him with wide eyes as his dark ones stare into yours. “Well that’s not how it works sweetheart.” He mumbled, flipping you over so you were on your stomach, pulling your legs towards him to lift your lower body onto your knees, center exposed to him in a for you humiliating position. “You can’t just pull stunts like that and then try to wiggle yourself out of it just by batting your pretty eyes at me.” He said, voice dangerously low and steady. He seemed so calm that it showed how well he fit the role of the dynamic you’d discussed earlier. This was him, through and through. “What was that?” He asked as you mumbled something into the pillow below. He brought his hand down onto your bottom as you still didn’t speak clearly enough, making you Yelp.
“Said ‘m sorry!” You whined out, and his palm flattened out, soothing the still tingling flesh of your behind as if to apologize. He hummed, hands wandering until you could feel his fingers spread your lower lips apart, admiring your glistening center. You moved your hips a bit, only earning his hands on either side of them, holding you still.
“I don’t think you understand yet..” he said, as he unplugged the charging cable from the toy next to him on the bed, the device now charged. “You’ll have to do better than that.” He whispered, as he pushed the toy inside you excruciatingly slow, making you whine. He simply chuckled at that.
“Or don’t you want to be my good girl again?” He mused, turning it on as you squeaked, hands gripping the sheets underneath you as you gasped.
So how did you end up in this mess?
Well, it actually wasn't your fault at all. Jungkook had just been on edge that day, that was it, not the fact that you'd sneaked sweets into the bedroom to brighten up your punishments, how you'd 'accidentally' put one of his white shirts into the same wash your red underwear and dresses were in, or how you'd been throwing a small tantrum when he'd told you to stay seated and finish your meal. Peas were gross and he knew you hated them. You didn't get why he wanted you to eat them anyways.
So yeah, maybe you had felt particularly bratty today, but when you were little, he never punished you sexually at all- it was an unwritten rule not to take any sort of advantage of you while in that absolutely oblivious headspace. So how come this was happening?
Well, Jungkook was too observant for your own good, you'd realized.
Because in the midst of your impish tactics to rile him up, he'd noticed your demeanor change. Whenever you were little, he knew that you would eventually get tired more easily; you'd simply get boosts of energy before taking naps between them. You were also not that interested in being disobedient at all, only thriving from his praise and smile, never enjoying punishments at all. He knew something was off when you'd started to giggle every time he snapped at you, and his suspicions were confirmed when he'd spanked you in the middle of the hallway- earning a very different kind of gasp from you.
In subspace, things were quite different. You were completely sure of what you both were doing, knowingly and fully consciously giving your control up to him while being aware of what may happened. This was a different kind of headspace, where he was free to use and ruin you to every extend he deemed fitting.
And oh how he craved to put you into your place this time.
"I don't think I ever said anything about you touching yourself." He growled, free hand grabbing your wrists back yet again, holding them tightly above your head as you whined, craving a different kind of touch to a different part of you. He knew this, was very well aware of the fact that you could generally only reach an orgasm if you were being stimulated instead of penetrated, but that was his plan. This wasn't about you; this was a punishment, and about his own fun.
"hm, you think I could try and make you cum like this?" He sang almost, changing the settings of the toy still inside you to a higher one, making your hips stutter as you shook your head, trying to tell him not to, as he simply chuckled leaning back on his knees as he watched you squirm. "Huh, that wasn't a question baby." He said, beginning to move the toy before stopping, as he clicked his tongue when you tried to reach for it again. Three time's the charm, you guessed. He however was not amused, pulling the toy out completely as you gasped from the sudden feeling of emptiness as he flipped you over, pulling on your thighs to have your behind facing him, hand falling down onto it with force, making the skin sting and turn pink. "You really love testing me, don't you?" He gritted out, hitting again and again as you moaned into the sheets below, making him scoff. "I can feel you leaking on my thigh, dirty girl." He mumbled close to your ear as he moved you yet again, positioning you on your knees to present your center towards him embarrassingly, making you whine. "Oh you don't get to complain baby. You wanted this, right?" He said with fake sympathy as his fingers moved over your pearl, pace without any form of gentleness as your voice failed, simply breathing heavily as your hands curled into fists, holding onto the cotton sheets as if your life depended on it. The sounds made by his hand on your exposed cunt were absolutely obscene, making the tips of your ears turn red as he continued his pace, inked hand working on your most vulnerable muscle without any mercy.
Not even when you came.
You cried out, trying to reach him but failing due to his positioning, sobbing without tears as you felt something within yourself snap, Jungkook groaning out loud as he noticed the clear liquid bursting out, making his length ache as his free hand grabbed onto it, moving it leisurely at the scene in front of him. "There you go!" He exclaimed, letting you fall down as he turned you over, spreading your legs as you caught a glimpse of him, toned abdominal muscles glistening with your release as he pumped his length, condom already wrapped over it.See?" He said as he chuckled darkly. "You can be a good girl after all." He praised, making you smile a bit as your core clenched around nothing, still sensitive to anything that came close to it. His predatory grin told you however, that this was not over yet. Pushing inside you, you mewled at the sensitivity, as he hushed you, pulling you close by your legs as he began to thrust forwards, rhythmic pace easily found as his hand moved over your breasts, kneading them before his hands wandered lower, holding your waist as he continued, breathing heavily as he growled, head dipping down to bite and mouth at your neck, leaving your skin red on his way, those marks soon to blossom into heavenly shades of purples as he let himself go, mouth finally finding yours, stealing every breath as he kissed you with need, want, as if he wasn't close enough to you already. "Hah you're so sweet-" He moaned, kissing you again before letting your lungs fill with oxygen again. "I love you, I love you so much" He whispered, picking up his pace as he bit his lip, thrusts hard and shaking your body, the sound of skin against skin echoing inside the room with wet noises, yet both of you didn't care as he finally let out a breathy sound, head falling back as he came, before lowering himself again, catching his breath as he still moved lazily, riding out his high as you moved a bit underneath him, making him laugh without sound. "My good girl getting greedy?" He hummed, pushing himself inside of you and staying there, hand reaching between your bodies to find your sensitive bud, fingers drawing circles over it in well practiced motions that made you suddenly cry out, your walls clenching around his cock still nestled inside you, making him humm in oversensitivity.
"Thats okay.." He whispered, moving again as he huffed, sweat running down his temples as he felt himself overcome the almost painful feeling of his most recent orgasm, picking up his speed as a small laugh mixed in between his desperate tries to even out his breathing. His hair was getting curly from the moisture, falling over his eyes and giving him the sheer visuals of the devil himself, making you sob as you desperately tried to keep your hands away from him. "It's alright, you're so good to me, you can touch me, yeah?" He chanted, and you immediately took the invitation, hands reaching for his arms, holding onto them as if your life depended on it. He smiled at the sight, at the simply view of your tears dying down as soon as your hands got in contact with him again, mind now at ease again with his presence confirmed to your closed eyes. "Such a good girl, taking it all so well, so good.." He said, voice low and rumbling as he went faster, now feeling himself tense again, to his surprise. "Can you cum again for me? Just one more?" He asked, and you shook your head, although a bit unsure. "You can do it, I know you can, just one baby.." He pressed out between gritted teeth, breathing hard against your neck as his thrusts began to dwindle, growing more and more unsteady as he suddenly began to pick up his face, mouth opening before he bit down his lip, breath coming out of his nose as his forehead fell into the crook of your neck, hand desperately trying to reach your center, sloppily rubbing over it as you snapped yet again, hot white pleasure painting the inside of your eyelids it seemed as you mewled, holding onto him for dear life as he felt himself cum without spilling, your release however coating his thighs again, if not as much as the first time.
He fell down next to you after pulling out his now softening length, breathing heavily as he closed his eyes, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, both of you utterly and thoroughly spent. He wanted to take care of you, but all he could really do was tie a knot at the end of the condom after pulling it off of himself, tossing it into the bin, before pulling you close. He could do that after he'd taken a short nap. Right now his bones felt like rubber, his muscles aching in the most pleasing ways as he decided the cleanup could wait after recharging.
You noticed that you were being carried, before you slowly opened your eyes. The scent of laundry detergent filled your senses as you instinctively tried to curl closer to the soft material of Jungkooks sweatshirt, making him chuckle. "Baby you gotta let go, I have to change the sheets." He cooed gently, placing you on the couch as you simply nodded, fists uncurling as you simply stayed where you were, noticing the oversized sweater you were dressed in.
He did this generally after sex. He loved whenever you put on his clothes, yet after being close like this, it held a special meaning towards him, making him feel as if he'd claimed you.
You loved it.
Balling up the sheets in his arms, he began to throw them into the washing machine,open window letting fresh air inside the stuffy room as miri followed him, making him watch his steps as to not accidentally hurt her. He sometimes stopped to pet her head, grinning when her little tail began to wag excitedly. "Come on, lets go cuddle our sleeping beauty, yeah?" He whispered with mimicked excitement, making the dog bark as he hushed her, speedwalking towards the couch as the small poodle ran after him, yapping at your hands as he suddenly threw himself over you, careful not to crush you under his weight as he held himself up on his knees and elbows pressed into the soft cushions underneath, his nose tickling yours as you giggled.
The way he could go from an absolute demon to the softest young man alive gave you whiplash, but you wouldn't have it any other way with him.
"Jungkookie.."
"What is it?"
"Can you carry me to McDonalds?"
"First of all its been two days, second of all, get on my back."
#bts#bts imagine#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts smut#jungkook#jungkook imagine#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts reactions
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The Princess and the Dog
Requested by @the-schuylar-sisters : Hey are you still taking requests if so could you do a Sandor x reader where they are ;) and Cersei (reader’s mother) walks in and goes off? Thanks
The library was the only place you could ever find peace and quiet. Your insufferable younger brother wouldn’t dare step foot into what he referred to as “a dusty, boring wasteland.” Every once in a while, someone might wander in, but you mostly had the place to yourself, aside from whatever guard was assigned to you.
Today’s was a younger man, one you didn’t recognize. He must have been new. He would nervously look over at you every few seconds while you read your book. You couldn’t quite blame him. You wouldn’t want his job. You loved your father, but you had to admit that he was quite overprotective when it came to you. Even if Joffrey was the first born son and his heir, King Robert reserved the softest spot in his heart for you, the first of his true born children to live past the age of infancy. You guessed that his affection for you was the reason your mother spoiled Joffrey so. Your mother claimed to love her children equally, but like your father, you suspected she had chosen her favorite.
Your mother also wasn’t quiet about the fact that your eighteenth name day had come and gone with no betrothal. It wasn’t as if you had no suitors. There were new ones daily, all clamoring over themselves to ask the King for his eldest daughter’s hand in marriage. Not only did your hand come with money, power, and lands, but you were said to be one of the most beautiful girls in the Seven Kingdoms, much like your mother. But your father always said no. Not one was good enough for you.
“She’ll die an old maid if you wait for someone who reaches your standard,” Your mother had said.
“Then she’ll die an old maid,” Your father had said.
Little did either of them know you had plans for yourself, and they didn’t involve dying an old maid. You weren’t about to correct them.
“You may sit down,” You said to the guard, making him jump.
“Princess?” He asked, not quite meeting your eye.
“You’re allowed to sit down,” You clarified, gesturing your hand at the chair across from the table from you. He looked at it as if it might turn and snap at him. You felt bad for him He looked to be younger than you, and he was given the task of guarding the princess on his own. “Go on. No one’s coming in to kill me, you won’t be needed for anything more than decoration for now.”
The guard finally took the seat, looking up at you finally, as if to confirm this is what you wanted of him. You had to resist the urge to give him a pat on the head, he looked so much like a lost puppy.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The poor boy fell out of the chair in his attempt to stand up.
“The princess told me-,”
“I’m telling you to get on your feet,” The Hound said, roughly grabbing the guard’s arm and pulling him up.
“Don’t be cruel,” You defended. “He was following my orders.”
The Hound didn’t look at you, his angry eyes still boring into the guard. “If you aren’t going to do your job, you can fuck off down to the stables.”
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” The guard nearly yipped. The Hound released him, shoving him out the door.
“That was unnecessary, Sandor,” You scolded.
“That’s who they leave you with? They call that protection?” The Hound said, finally turning towards you. “Some cunt who pisses himself at the slightest noise?”
“He’s just a boy,” You said.
“Exactly.”
You stood up, walking around the other side of the table where he stood. You looked up at him with a slight smirk. “You don’t need to take it out on him. You’re just upset my mother assigned you to Joffrey instead of me.”
The Hound bent down, his arms circling your waist and he lifted you off your feet. You laughed, grabbing him around his neck. He kissed you, his lips tasted like the bitter wine he kept on his belt. You knew the taste well, both from sips taken on moonlight walks and from kisses stolen when you were sure you two were alone.
“Takes everything in me not to strangle that little shit in his sleep,” He said into your mouth. “She suspects something.”
“You don’t think she knows about us, do you?” You asked, pulling away slightly. You liked when he held you like this, being just slightly above him. You liked being able to look in his eyes when you spoke. His arms were so strong, you knew he could hold you up for hours and not get tired. Mostly, you just liked being held by him.
“If she had any real proof, your father would have my head mounted on his throne and my balls in a jar,” The Hound assured. “Are you worried, Princess?” The corners of his mouth turned up, making you roll your eyes.
“You don’t need to call me that, no one’s here.”
He kissed the hollow of your throat, then your collarbone, and finally the top of your breast that was nearly spilling out of your bodice. His lips moved against you as he spoke. “You’re the princess, even when no one’s here.”
Nearly a year ago, when you had first kissed him, he had pulled away as if you had burned him, saying almost exactly the same thing. “You’re the princess,” was his reason then. He didn’t know what you wanted him, even now, even though he wanted you. You could easily have any man you wanted. The difference was that now, he wasn’t afraid to touch you.
You kissed the puckered line of scarred flesh on his forehead, your lips touching both the ruined skin and the unburnt. He used to not let you even look at that side when you were together, worried that it disgusted you. It never had. Even when you first met him, it hadn’t bothered you. It was just a part of him.
“My father means to take us all to Winterfell,” You said. His lips stilled on your breast. “He told me this morning. We’re to leave in a fortnight.”
“I’m part of the Kingsguard, I’ll be traveling with you.”
“You’re smarter than that, Sandor,” You said. You tugged on his hair, making him look at your eyes. “All that time traveling with my parents? Someone is bound to notice us.”
“No one notices your mother and uncle,” The Hound said. You rolled your eyes.
“Everyone notices my mother and my uncle,” You corrected. You loved your Uncle Jamie, he was always kind and gentle. But you also weren’t stupid. Just looking at your younger siblings, you knew they weren’t your father’s children. And looking at your mother with her brother, you were sure you knew who their father was. “No one is fool enough to tempt my mother’s wrath.”
“No one wants to face mine either, Princess,” The Hound assured.
“Sandor,” You said. He placed you back onto your feet. You missed his arms immediately.
“Princess.”
“We should leave,” You said, your voice low even though you knew you were alone in the library. “Like we said we would.”
He stared down at you. You knew what he was thinking. He had asked you to run away with him before. It was something you rarely talked about, it was something to fantasize about. It was always in the abstract. But you knew you didn’t have much time before it was decided that you were too old and needed to be married. It was when your father mentioned Robb Stark and how much he trusted the boy’s father that you worried that you wouldn’t have a choice much longer.
“That’s one way to piss off your Queen Mother,” The Hound said with a laugh.
“My goal in life.”
He let you pull him around so he was against the table. He sat down on the table top, his legs so long that his feet were still grounded on the floor. You stood between his legs, getting close enough to kiss him but not letting your lips touch his. He let out a strangled groan when you palmed his quickly hardening erection through his pants.
“That’s another way to do it,” He said. He threaded one hand through your hair, the other pressed on the small of your back, pulling you closer and kissing you. You squeezed him tighter, sending a rumble through his throat.
“Careful, now, Princess,” He said against your lips.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” You said. You pulled at the ties of his pants, slipping your hand in and grabbing him fully. He grabbed your wrist with warning. “No one is in here. You scared that guard half to death, he won’t be coming back.”
The Hound paused for a long moment before releasing your wrist. You smirked at how easy it was for you to convince him. He played the role of being as hard as stone well, but when it came to you, he cracked so easily. You could get him to do anything you asked.
You pulled his cock out of his pants, exposing him to the empty library. You got onto your knees in front of him, your dress flaring out around you as you lowered yourself onto the ground. He moved his hand into your hair once again as you took his cock into your mouth, making him let out another groan. You could barely fit half of its length, using your hand to stroke the rest as you ran your tongue along the head. He used to never let you use your mouth on him, almost as if he thought it was too depraved to ask of a princess. He had no such problem now as he nearly thrusted into your throat.
You could feel him tense as he usually did before he came, his hands tightening in your hair, but he pulled you away. He nearly shuddered at the loss of contact, but he wasted no time leaning down, pulling you up by the waist. He lifted your skirts, setting you onto his lap, your knees against the table on either side of him. His arm around your waist to hold you in place, he guided you onto his waiting cock. You gasped as he entered you, your hands on his shoulders.
You lifted yourself up, making sure to take your time as you slowly brought him into you again. He squeezed your hips tightly. You smirked, kissing his lips lightly.
“How’s that?” You whispered against his mouth.
“So fucking good,” He mumbled. He slid his hand along your thighs and up to your center. You couldn’t help a moan as his thumb found your clit. He made quick circles as you bucked your hips against him wildly. You both knew he wouldn’t last but he never liked to finish before you. His practiced hand knew exactly how to bring you to your end. “Come for me, princess,” He whispered in your ear just as you came apart, squeezing tightly to him. He held you so you wouldn’t topple backwards as he continued his thrusts.
You didn’t realize you had heard your name until the Hound was pulling out of you roughly. You found your footing, your legs a bit numb from holding yourself on the table, making you feel like a newborn fawn. Your mother’s voice pierced your ear as she grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the Hound.
“What in the Seven Hells do you think you were doing?” Your mother nearly shrieked at you.
“Your Grace,” The Hound started, his voice surprisingly calm and even.
She turned on the Hound, her arms wrapped around you as if you needed protection from him. “This is exactly why I no longer wanted you guarding her. I find you with your cock in my daughter, the King’s daughter. Who do you think you are?”
“Mother,” You said. “It was me, I was the one-,”
Your mother held you at arms length, her grip on you iron clad and bruising. “This is why you refused every proposal I brought to your father? So you could fuck the Dog? I raised you better than this.”
“I love him,” You felt the words in your chest as they came from your mouth. Your eyes flashed to the Hound. He looked as if he had been slapped. You had never said those words aloud, but you had certainly felt them for a long time.
“You know nothing of love,” Your mother said firmly. “And after I tell your father what he’s done, you will know nothing of the Hound.”
“You won’t tell Father.” You pulled out of her grasp. “If you do, I’ll tell him about Uncle Jamie.”
You felt the slap sharp across your cheek. You held your hand to your face, the sting still ringing across your skin. But what surprised you more was seeing the Hound’s large hand clasped around your mother’s wrist, not nearly as gentle as he had just been with you. Your mother looked just as shocked as you. The Hound had been nothing but loyal since he had come to King’s Landing. You supposed he was loyal still, just to you above all else.
“Unhand me,” Your mother said through gritted teeth. The Hound looked at you and you gave him a nod. He released his grip, taking a step back.
“I will, Mother,” You said. “Keep my secret and I’ll keep yours.”
She looked at you a long time, her chest puffed out with self importance. You supposed you were lucky it had been her and not your father who had walked in. At least with your mother you had leverage.
“I don’t doubt you, my love,” She said coldly. She shot the Hound a disgusted glance as she rubbed her wrist. “His bastards will tear you to shreds on their way out.”
#sandor clegane#sandor clegane x reader#sandor clegane x you#sandor clegane fanfiction#reader insert#fanfiction#game of thrones fanfiction#smut#got#the hound#the hound fanfiction#the hound x reader#the hound x you#fanfiction requests#game of thrones#game of thrones smut
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heavy is the head that wears the crown; and the heart > bucky barnes
|| pairing: romanian!king!bucky barnes x black!queen!reader
|| word count: 3,273
|| warnings: language words
|| challenge: @marvelmaree‘s birthday challenge: royalty au + “i’ve dreamt about leaving so many times.” “that’s the problem with most people. they dream about what they want to do instead of really doing it.”
|| square filled: @star-spangled-bingo SSB2020 N1: modern royalty au
|| square filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y1: “i regret nothing.”
|| summary: there are many decisions to make as queen; some of the heart, some of the mind.
|| link: ao3
|| note: this is really late for maree’s birthday challenge! i’m so sorry babe, but i hope you like it! i hope it’s okay that i made it a modern royalty au instead of a traditional royalty au!
so, for this to make sense, we have to pretend that after the south seceded from the united states in 1860, they never rejoined the union and the civil war never happened. we also need to pretend that the united states had kings and queens instead of presidents, lol. we also have a cameo by a real life duke and duchess :) also, sis does not play in this.
hope you guys enjoy, and happy juneteenth!
You walk slowly through the trees, the tips of your fingers grazing over the bloomed flowers. The bottom of your dress is caked in dirt as it drags behind you, your black Converse shoes leaving soft imprints in the soft earth. You don’t care - you never have - but your mother surely will. Another dress ruined! My God, when are you going to learn some etiquette! You are thirty one years old, girl! You smile and chuckle slightly as her words swirl through your head. Dinner will be fun tonight.
You stop and bend slightly to pluck a rose from it’s bush. You bring it to your face and inhale deeply, letting the natural, earthy scent fill your nose. You close your eyes and hum a little as you exhale slowly, letting your eyes flutter back open.
“I knew I’d find you out here.”
You laugh as his voice fills your ears. You don’t turn to face him. Instead, you do just the opposite. You turn away from him and keep on your leisurely stroll as you continue to sniff at your pretty red rose, “I’m not a hard person to figure out, Mr. Barnes.”
“That you’re not. That’s what I like about you.”
You scoff but laugh again, shaking your head softly. You take a few more steps before you shriek when two long arms wrap around your middle. He lifts you off your feet, twirling you around as you laugh wildly. He sits you back down, facing him this time, and crashes his lips to yours - stealing every ounce of breath out of your lungs. He squeezes you to him as you moan lightly and wrap your arms around his neck.
“Hi,” he says softly after he frees your lips.
You giggle as he rests his forehead to yours, his eyes still closed from the kiss, “Hi there,” you whisper, “You are awfully brave for pulling this little stunt with my mother being right inside.”
“I don’t care about your mother,” he shrugs, “Do you?”
You send your eyes towards the sky, pretending to give it some thought, “Not really, no.”
He finally opens his eyes and they almost take your breath away. You’ve been staring into those blues since you were kids, but the deepness of them - the emotions that swirl in them at any given time - surprises you every time. You cup his cheek, a dark beard blooming across his skin and rub your thumb underneath his right eye as a dreamy smile covers your lips.
“You’re so pretty.” You say softly, watching as the smile broadens on his face.
You send your eyes down to his chest, finding him in a crisp white button up shirt and a black velvet sport coat and pants, complete with a pair of off white, studded loafers, “You broke out the Tom Ford just to see me?”
“Not this time, darling.” He smiles, throwing his arm over your shoulder as the two of you begin to walk again, “I had an engagement with Prince Harry and the Duchess Megan this afternoon.”
“Ah yes, I remember now. I was supposed to be there.” You laugh, shrugging.
He laughs at your nonchalance, “You were certainly missed. To be perfectly honest though, Harry and I had bet going that you’d blow it off.”
You nod, shooting him a quick finger gun, “Both of you are very smart men.” You giggle, “It’s just one more thing for my mom to be mad at me about. Whatever, I’ll text Harry and Megan my apologies.”
The two of you walk slowly through the vast garden until you are no longer visible from the main house. You wave at the horse handlers as they work your champion thoroughbreds off in the distance. You swallow and let out a breath as your mind starts to wander again, your stomach twisting a little.
“I’ve dreamt about leaving so many times.” You say softly, dropping your eyes to the rose still in your fingers.
You hear Bucky sigh, “That’s the problem with most people. They dream about what they want to do instead of really doing it.”
You roll your eyes, but a smile cracks your face, “Don’t be a smart ass, Barnes.”
“I’m not,” he smiles, threading his fingers with yours, “I mean it. You can do whatever you want to do. You don’t have to marry him.” He stops moving as you continue to step ahead of him, your arms spreading out between the two of you as he continues to hold your hand, “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes.” You answer firmly, “I’m listening, I know.”
“You don’t love him.”
“I don’t. I love you.”
“Then marry me. Come back to Romania with me, be my queen.”
“And denounce my country? Just leave them behind with no heir? I can’t do that.”
“Your cousin could be Queen.”
“She’s an idiot!” You laugh, “We’d be in a world war within months.” You drop his hand and step away from him further, spinning on your heels suddenly to face him again, “You could move here.”
He nods slowly, “I could.”
You scoff, “Stop it.”
“I could - I would. If you really wanted me to.”
You shake your head, “You’re too idealistic.”
“And you’re too cynical.” He rebukes, keeping his gaze on you firmly, “We could make this work, you know we can.”
“How can you run a country if you’re thousands of miles away from it?” You sigh, “You’re a King, you need to be there.”
He scratches his head as he closes his left eye, tilting his head towards the sky, “Um, have you heard of the internet? FaceTime, email - Zoom - I hear that’s great.”
You roll your eyes again as you groan loudly, turning away from him. You slump your shoulders as you throw your head back , closing your eyes as the sun beats down on you. You wish this was easier. You wish you had the guts to tell your mother to just piss off so you could run off to Romania and spend the rest of your life in his arms, but then there’s the other side of your heart. Half of you doesn’t want to leave. You want to take your rightful throne. You want to be Queen. You’ve prepared for it your whole life, it’s your destiny - and you’d be good at it.
How could Bucky not be a part of that destiny? That’s the real question you have. That’s what keeps you up at night these days as your calling draws nearer and nearer. He’d throw it all away for you, but you can’t do the same for him - and that makes you feel guilty; and sad.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” You ask, not turning around.
“That,” he says in a way that you know he’s smiling, “Don’t feel guilty.”
“How do you know I feel guilty? I’m just standing here.”
You hear his feet in the grass as he moves towards you, and then feel his warm breath on the back of your neck as he sweeps your braids over your shoulder, “Because I know you.” He whispers into your ear before he pushes away again, stepping out in front of you.
You open your eyes and watch as he spins in the grass, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to give this up for me,” he continues, “It’s 2020, not 1940 - you don’t have to give up everything you’ve worked so hard for just for some dude.”
“I’m glad we agree on that.”
“Just,” his voice trails off as he takes a deep breath, “Please don’t marry him.” He says gently, his voice barely above a whisper.
The him he speaks of is Scott Lang, the appointed King of the South, né Atlanta. He’s a nice man; kind, funny, sweet - and he adores you, but he’s boring. He’s predictable, and your mother loves him. That alone makes you want to scream and run for the hills. It’s bigger than you though, the marriage. It’s not one out of convenience or even one bred from a matchmaker. Your marriage will unite the South back with the rest of the United States. Scott will ultimately relinquish his throne, and you’ll be the first Queen to reign over an intact America in over a hundred years.
But that isn’t what you want - not with him.
Bucky is slightly irrational at times - incalculable almost every time. He has a subtle boldness that’s attracted you to him since you were kids. You remember it like it were yesterday, the first time the two of you met. The annual meeting of the Royal families, this time held in Britain. You were seven, Bucky was nine. Your fathers introduced the two of you in the middle of the great library, telling you both to run along, don’t make a mess. Without knowing each other for a full minute, he grabbed your hand and dragged you through the library, reaching out and tipping random books off the shelves as you ran between the aisles.
You loved him right then and there, and every minute since.
“I’m not going to marry him,” you finally answer, “I just have to find the right time to tell them. There’s a lot riding on this.”
He nods slowly, “I know. The merger is… big.”
“I’ll make it happen.” You shrug, “I always do. The South was stupid to secede in the first place and now they’re reaping what they sowed. A few more years of this and they’ll be destitute, they know it.”
Silence drops over the two of you as you look at each other, just blinking randomly and breathing. He tilts his head and smiles at you slowly, watching you as your mind turns. He knows that in three months time, on your thirty second birthday, you’ll be made Queen. He knows you’re ready, he knows you’re capable; but he also knows you’re scared. Uncertain of what’s to come for yourself, your country; and for the two of you.
He holds out his hand to you, not saying a word, just extending it - waiting for you. You move forward without hesitation, sliding your hand into his and letting him press you to his chest. His large hands sweep around your sides and slide up and down your back as you wrap your arms around his middle. You flatten your hands on his broad back and nuzzle into his sport coat, shielding your face from everything and everyone. You close your eyes when he runs his hand over your hair and presses kisses to the top of your head.
“I’ll be right here,” he whispers softly, “I’ll always be here for you, sweet girl. No matter if you are mine or not. I promise you that.”
“I know you will,” you sniffle as tears start to fall, “I want to be yours forever.”
He hugs you to him again, rocking your bodies back and forth softly, “Just say the word and I’ll pack my bags.”
You squeeze him tighter.
You twist your hands within one another as you stand behind the two great doors. You can hear the muffled commencement speech taking place on the other side, people cheering and clapping. You swallow hard. You let out a focused breath through your teeth. You lower your head and unfold the balled up paper in your hands.
I love you. Always.
Bucky
It’s simple - not even on his official letterhead. It’s just a blank sheet of paper confessing his adoration of and for you. You take another breath and force it out between your teeth as you ball it up again and lift your head. You run your gloved hands down your red and gold military jacket, rolling your shoulders before craning your head back and forth. Your medals clink softly from the disturbance of them, but to you, the sound is deafening as everything else blurs into the background. The doors open and the military men and women before you begin their procession into the Great Hall.
Time to go.
Trumpets start to sound when you make your entrance into the room. Tv cameras zoom in on you as the audience in attendance stand to their feet. You focus forward as you move, painfully aware of all the eyes on you. The room is full of Royal families from all over the world, the press, and your extended family - all ready to watch the transfer of power. You blink, diverting your eyes quickly to your left, catching a quick smile and a secret wave from the Duchess of Sussex. The Duke of Sussex tips his head towards you and you return the gesture, winking playfully at Megan as she bounces baby Archie in her hands.
You blink again and there they are; those ice blue eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, dressed in his military uniform. A white satin embroidered jacket, complete with the numerous gold medals he’s earned along the way. A white and gold sash crosses over his chest as the artificial lights glint off of the gold and silver pins and buttons littered across his jacket.
His hair is trimmed - shorter than you like it, to be frank - his dark beard neatly manicured. He’s a sight - a vision, and if you had any doubt at all, it’s all thrown out the window now. Just with a glance of him.
You walk to the steps where your parents stand, a diamond encrusted crown in your mother’s hands. You kneel on the small red pillow on the top step and drop your head as the speaker begins again.
“Here, on the first of July, in the year twenty twenty and on her thirty second birthday, we honor the change of power from Queen Johana to its rightful heir, her only daughter, our royal Princess. Queen Johana, please remove the Princess tiara and replace it with the crown.”
Your mother bends, plucking the precious tiara you’ve adorned for so long from your head. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing as the official crown, her crown, is rested atop your head. She slips her index finger to your chin and lifts your head so your eyes can meet hers for the first time as Queen. You note the water that builds in her eyes as she smiles at you. You smile back, knowing in the depths of your heart that no matter how much the two of you fight, no matter how different your politics are - you are her only daughter - and her love for you knows no bounds.
“I’m so proud of you.” She whispers.
“Thank you, mama.”
When your mother stands again, the speaker announces, “Queen, please rise and address your court.”
You stand and turn, holding your head high as the room erupts with claps and cheers. Your parents step into the background as you nod and wave, mouthing your thank you’s before you cross your arm over your chest to cover your heart with your hand. Picture cameras click loudly in every direction as the television crews zoom in on you again.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the speaker announces, “Your Queen.”
“I have something I want to say, if that’s okay.” You say, turning towards the commencement speaker.
You move to the podium and clear your throat, waiting for the applause to die down before you start to speak, “I know this is unconventional to address you this quickly, but you all have always known me to be this way, and I do not intend to change. I am very proud and humble to be named your Queen today. This is a long time coming and I thank each and every citizen for supporting me up to this point and beyond.”
You take another breath, “As you know, I am to marry the King of Atlanta, Scott Lang, to unify this great United States of America again at the end of this month.” You lift your eyes and stare straight into the television cameras in front of you, “I have no intention of going through with the marriage.”
Gasps of shock ring through the room, the loudest coming from your mother. You throw your eyes over to Bucky as he blinks back at you, his lips parted, his face flushing red at your impromptu announcement. He runs his hand through his hair in complete disbelief and shrugs at you as he shakes his head, mouthing what are you doing? at you.
You smile, “The King of Romania, James Buchanan Barnes, and I are in love, and have been since we were children. I plan, if he’ll still have me, to marry him on the twenty fifth of July, here in New York. On the twenty sixth of July, I will issue an executive order demanding that the South rejoin the United States within thirty days, and that all members of their parliament dissolve immediately. King Lang will be acclimated into my court and will serve as an advisor to help oversee this merger. If there is any resistance, or the order is not signed by the end of the thirty days, I will have no choice but to find the South and Mr. Lang, guilty of treason, and will send in our military to take control.”
“I realize this sounds harsh, but I’m giving plenty of time for both regimes to come together and iron this out peacefully. But I must warn, do not take my kindness or my generous time frame as weakness. If I have to take control the hard way, I will. We are only strong when we are together, and I fully intend to right the wrongs of the decisions made before me.”
You glance to your right, finding Scott’s dark eyes on you, his mouth set in a hard line as anger washes through him, “I am not my mother,” you begin again, speaking directly to him, “I am not my grandmother, or any woman who has come before them. I will not let the South perish because of stubborn minds and brash, pompous attitudes. I will not continue to turn a blind eye to this situation, but I’ll need your help, Mr. Lang, to make this as easy as possible.” He takes a breath and lowers his gaze from yours, already realizing just who he is up against, “Please, do what is best for all of us.”
You turn, facing your parents, “If I learned anything from my parents, it’s to stand up for what I believe in. I believe in love. I believe in peace. I want to thank you all again, and please know that I look forward to serving you and this great country of ours. Thank you.”
Without another word, you step away from the podium and move down the steps as the room goes haywire, every media outlet shouting and screaming questions at you. You stop in front of Bucky, extending your gloved hand to his. He takes it without hesitation, without fear, and hand in hand, the two of you walk down the center aisle as all hell breaks loose around you.
“It’s been all of five seconds, do you regret this yet?” You ask, laughing a little as cameramen scramble to get pictures of the two of you.
“You know me, babe,” he says easily, shrugging as the two of you push through the doors, “I regret nothing.”
Neither do you.
“Oh, hey!” You smile, “I forgot to ask you, will you marry me in like three weeks?”
He throws his head back, laughing, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
#maree's29thbirthdaybash#buckybarnesbingo2020#bbb2020#SSB2020#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x black!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#you x bucky#bucky x reader#reader x bucky#bucky barnes x black reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fandom#black reader#avintagekiss24
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#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.
──➤ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋!
─➤ Kuroo Tetsurou sent you a letter, would you like to read it?
#CC of the letter directed to : @bbthots-underground
──➤ #𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smut.
─➤ #𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 : Caught in a snowbound, Kuroo has to work from home. But your sinful envies don’t really match with his working tendencies. Will you be able to keep it quiet for him? Or will you disobey and get punished? It’s entirely up to you.
➤ #𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Minors please do not interact, +18. Vaginal sex, penetration, degradation, binding.
« Of course, of course… I understand, mhm. The weather is not on our side, this year’s winter is even more cruel than last year’s. Mhm, for sure, for sure… » Without stating the obvious, this pseudo speech, intercut with several hums leaving the frontiers of his lips, belonged to a man who had to work from home. The blame of such a sudden change was the blowing white storm outside and its ceaseless waves of snow coming to crash down on the ground, the roofs, everywhere. The wind which accompanied the blizzard in this symphony to the ode of the muses of the cold weather seemed to be whistling along to the series of affirmations which continued to pour from his lips like a cascade that couldn’t reach its end.
It was a meaningless consecution of affirmative sentences, perhaps sentences that he didn’t even mean in the first place, but oh well, it was what he would call ‘corporate language’, talk to please the person on the other end of the phone and make them hear what they want to hear.
The discussion, which gravitated around the next selling strategy for the upcoming volleyball competition, wasn’t bound to come to an end anytime soon. Meaning that Kuroo had to more or less listen and give half-interested hums of acknowledgement for a few more minutes. He took a seat on the leather chair throning along with his acacia desk in the middle of the room, his gaze fell on the constant flickering of the ambers in the fireplace to seek a distraction from this deafening discussion.
But there he was, saved by the salute of the echoes of your knocks on the door. You knew perfectly well he was on the phone, being able to hear his hums from the other side of the door, but it’s not as if it was going to stop you. And you stepped into the arena that was his office, dressed in the newest set of scarlet lingerie Kuroo had gotten you (after having ripped to pieces the last set no longer than two days ago.) It was flawless, and the melted perfectly with the shapes of your body. But the way the transparency over the fabric which ‘covered’ your breasts, leaving his imagination run to the darkest corners of his mind, was already stimulating his salivary glands. And he knew, from the first glance on your figure and the way you were leaning against the shut door, that he was going to make a mess out of you… And make that new set of lingerie witness the same fatalist fate as the martyr before.
Kuroo didn’t say a word, but the way his fingers pointed at his lap were enough indication for you to understand where you were going to be sitting, after all, you had deemed it as your throne. « Of course, I think it’s the best strategy to valorize the merch. » words fell effortlessly from his mouth, as if he became unfazed by the not so foreign presence on his lap. Or so you thought. « Maybe we could think about asking the MSBY team for some interviews, mhm? » His free hand was busy messily undoing the knot of his tie, far too tight for his liking, before setting his phone in a hold between his ear and his shoulders.
This newfound position gave him the opportunity to undo his belt, the sound of the metal of clicking in unison, and it gave you a hint as where he was going already. You were bound to drag his underwear down, but not before teasing the edge of said underwear with your fingertips (a deed which was saluted with an ill-intentioned glare on his end). « Hold on a second, I’ll be quick. », what a stark comparison between the numbness of his words and the growing bulge obtaining more and more the privilege of omnipotency in the constricting fabric of his boxers.
Kuroo gave a second glance at the phone on his desk, double-checking it was far enough to be able to pronounce the following words without being caught by his correspondent on the other end of the phone call, « All dolled up for me, kitten? How nice of you… » a metaphorical green elixir of mischief dripped down from his words whilst his fingertips found salute on your clothed core, his fingertips moving in appreciation at the sensation of wetness.
« Here’s what we’re going to do, kitten, you’re going to ride my cock like the good girl you are but you have stay quiet, mhm? Good girls don’t want to be punished, do they? » Such a rhetorical question, but you nodded nonetheless, eager to feel full once more by the intoxicating sensation of his girth inside you. You were willing to do anything, give up on your boundaries, bend the holy rules of decency if it meant you could reach nirvana. And your ascension began as you allowed yourself to sink on his length, making a martyr out of your lower lip due to the pressure of your pearly whites. You needed to stay quiet, you needed to be a good girl for him.
Kuroo almost felt a hint of guilt at the palette of crimson shades now coloring your lower lip, but it was a sight to breathtaking to feel anything but pure ecstasy. « Tet— Mmphf! » You plea was cut to a halt by the sudden presence of his palm over mouth mouth, were you going to break his rules so quickly? « What did I say about being a good girl? Don’t make me punish you, I know you’re better than that, kitten. » Oh, the disappointed tone in his voice, a forecast of the sinful nature of events which were bound to happen if you kept playing with fire.
And whilst Kuroo was back on the call, having apologized for a pseudo issue caused by who-knows-what, you were hesitatingly rotating your hips, letting the tip of his length kiss your velvety walls. They were shy, almost experimental rotations. But although they were agonizingly slow, you could already feel the sick sensations of knots forming themselves in your lower stomach. Your palms were laid flat on his broad shoulder, your glance solely focused on the way his cock was filling you up, gracing your insides with how the prominent veins were dancing against your walls.
Fuck, was it hard to keep your composure and not give in to the subtle calls of the muses of passion. But he was on a call, the same hums and other signs of agreement leaving his lips whilst his oculars were fixed on you, an ill-intentioned grin throning amongst his facial features as a sign of a silent victory. You were such a good girl for him.
He tapped his fingertips against your luscious thighs caging him in a hole he’d dream of spending his entire life in, silently telling you to begin a more rushed rhythm. But before you could start, his index found its way against his lips, another wordless way to demand absolute silence on your end. He knew it was pure torture, that’s why he was liking it so much.
And so you obliged, and the vertical motions on his girth became natural until reaching a steady rhythm which wouldn’t expose you to the light of danger. Or so you thought. Your own betrayal manifested itself when he shifted his position in his leather chair, causing the tip of his length to hit against the roof of your core, a terribly sensitive area which held all the nerves which burned under the sudden touch. A dragged moan left your lips before you could even realize it, your body began acting on its own before your mind did, and that’s precisely when you knew you had both lost yourself and he had lost patience.
You could hear a hushed « Kuroo-san, what was that? Is everything okay? » from the other side of the phone, and the silence invading the air was the worst response Kuroo could ever possibly come up with. « I’ll call you back. » It was short, dry even, and the way his voice had dropped a few octaves was the last sign announcing your own end. He pressed the red button on the screen, thus cutting an end to the call. A sigh of pure exasperation had been set free from his lips, and the silence had become agonizing, the stare he was giving you paralyzed your every move, you could only muster enough strength to swallow thickly.
« I’m so— » You were cut off as soon as the sound of your voice drowned in his eardrums. « Did I give you permission to speak? » You nodded negatively. « Do you know just how spoiled you are? I let you ride on my cock because you can’t seem to get enough of it, mhm? I only ask for one thing in return and you can’t do it properly? Get off. Get off of my cock. Now. »
You did as told, respecting the oh so dear rules of performative language, and found yourself standing before him with your knees almost giving in at the severe look plastered upon his facial expression. You opened your mouth to let out another apology, but your poor attempt had been cut short as he crashed his lips onto yours so roughly he was convinced you had awakened the side of him he always tried to keep tamed.
He had enough pity for you to break the kiss once your lungs began to give up due to the lack of oxygen. « Turn around. » You did as told, awaiting for your fate. « Your arms on your back. » He spat out another order, the coldness of his tone was enough to make a trail of chills run down your spine but you obliged nonetheless. « Tetsu— » Once again, cut off. « Did I give you permission to talk? » He asked, although he already knew the answer to his own question, to which you shook your head. « I thought so too. »
The knot of his tie came out easily, having already undone it a bit earlier on, it dangled from his fingers and his free hand pressed your back against the desk, a move which earned a mewl out of you. Then, his hands travelled around your wrists, leaving a soft caress on your palm before binding his tie around your wrists in a tight hold which severely contrasted with the sweet nature of his previous gesture. You winced in response, furrowing your brows together while he was spreading out your legs. « From now on, I don’t want to hear anything. You can moan as much as you want, I don’t give a damn. Got that, kitten? » And although Kuroo always used this nickname in such a sweet way, this time it had been tarnished by a sinful tone. « Y-Yes, sir. » You choked out, a watery veil covering your oculars in anticipation.
You heard nothing but the sound of his suit pants falling to his ankles, the click of the metal of his belt echoing against the floor, followed by the sound of yet another gulp being swallowed down your throat with difficulty. His fingertips found your core, and they were met with the wetness coating the area. Were you worth cherishing? Certainly not. And yet, he took it upon his kind heart to flick your sweet bundle of nerves, alternating between circular and pinching motions to stimulate you just enough to bring you on the verge of your apex. And just when your moans followed the crescendo of your sensations, he ceased all kinds of motions with a wicked grin on his face.
You couldn’t help but whine in frustration at the sudden lack of touch, your apex hitting a harsh stop so suddenly. « What was that? You’re complaining? » Kuroo half asked, taking a fistful of your hair to orientate your head towards him. « S-Sir, no… I just need, I need… Fuck, sir, I-I need… » Your words were mere hopes against him, your mouth was mouthing unintelligible sounds which found no purpose. « You don’t even know what you’re begging for, how fucking pathetic. » He released the hold on your hair, letting your head fall against the wooden surface of his desk while a string of whimpers left your lips.
« Ah! Please, sir, p-please, just fuck me… » You pleaded, hoping that you’d bent his heart somehow. But you were greeted with a harsh slap right on your derrière in retaliation, « Did I give you permission to speak? You’re fucking lacking politeness, what a slut you are. »
And it was the last vocal warning before he slammed his hips against yours, the latter caused him to dig his pearly whites into his lower lip to prevent any unwanted groan from leaving his mouth at the sensation of your walls wrapping around his cock so tightly. ‘So fucking tight’, he thought, knowing your cunt was made for him and him only. He had to still himself for a few seconds, adjusting to the iron grip which could’ve made him come undone at this very instant, you were too eager for your own good. And yet, you wanted to beg for him to move, do something, but you had to stay silent.
« You. Just. Can’t. Stay. Fucking. Silent. » Each word was accentuated by a slam of hips, followed by the sound of his testicles slapping against your skin. How you wished to bring your fist to your mouth, to bite your poor martyr of a hand at the violence of his thrusts which seemed to increase each time he moved. Pearls of salt gathered at the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall at any given second as Kuroo’s thrusts grew more rapid and more precise, kissing effortlessly the myriad of nerves adorning the roof of your core.
The moans fell from your lips like a cascade which couldn’t reach its own end, and so the tears fell. Kuroo, on the other one hand, rolled his head back in ecstasy while maintaining an iron grip on your tied wrists, thus guarantying you to have scarlet marks.
You knew you couldn’t come undone just yet, at least not when Kuroo was feeling like this, but he was close to his own end judging by the ferocity of his thrusts making a martyr out of your poor derrière which was bound to be colored by a palette of crimson shades as well. The inferno had been set free from its chains in Kuroo’s lower stomach, the blood rushing down to his girth in anticipation for the grand finale. « Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Look at what you— Ah! Fuck, look at what you do to me, squeezing my cock so hard like the f-fucking slut you are. » Truthfully, Kuroo needed to gather all of his strength to prevent any loose grunt from leaving his lips at the same time as his curses.
But he was only a mere man facing his temptations. « C-Cum with me, now! » He spat the words in pure lustful frenzy, losing himself in his own thrust while you could only resume to moan your pleasure away. Your were digging your fingernails in your own palms behind your back, drawing crescents into your flesh in order to distract yourself from the fact you were bound to come undone at any given moment.
Your mind was spiraling into a state of blankness, your body falling numb as you witnessed the metaphorical gates of heaven opening themselves before your sins. A hot trail of liquid painted your blank canvas with stains of sins and passion, and in return, the elixir of your own pleasure leaked down the sides of his cock while he was still thrusting his cum into you, all in a cacophony of sounds of pleasure.
Then the movements ceased, leaving room for more silence and choked breath. A trail of drool leaked from your mouth onto his desk, Kuroo stared at the ceiling while trying to re-gain the control of his breathing. The harsh grip of his hands around your wrists loosened up a bit, until they turned into mere caresses. Such a contrast with his previous deeds.
Kuroo was welcomed with a dragged whimper when he pulled out, the sudden feeling of vacuity replacing in the least pleasing way possible the sensation of his cock. And while you were about to fall down on the floor, your knees shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm, Kuroo’s grave voice shook you away from your thoughts. « Don’t move. I’m going to get the silk ropes, I’m done not with you yet. »
#kuroo x reader#haikyuu x reader#kuroo#kuroo smut#haikyuu smut#kuroo fic#kuroo hcs#kuroo tetsurou#hq x reader#hq !! x reader
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Drink and make merry, my friend (you'll be gone come morning)
Day four: historical- pirates // sci-fi- space
There are three pirates chilling in the dungeons. None seem overly concerned about the fact that they’ll be hanged come morning.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Bartholomew H. Allen. Bart for the friends. ‘The red nuisance’ for everyone else. Wasn’t the first time he’d been inside this very same prison cell; probably won’t be the last. The guards stationed in front of his door were the quickest on their feet, so maybe they’d have a minimum chance of catching the fucker should he escape again. Probably not, but the Arch Duke had been particularly displeased the last time he’d weaseled his way out of their prison, so they had to at least pretend to try.
He’d been unconcernedly chewing on dried meat for hours now. How did he manage to smuggle it into the cell, no one knows, but after he bit the first few hands that tried to take his treasure away, the general consensus was to let him be.
Similarly, anyone who held any notions of spending a fun afternoon with the only woman among the sea bandits was quick to be corrected, either by a broken hand or a kick that stole the air from their lungs like it was gold from a ship’s treasury.
Her name? Cassandra Sandsmark. She did not fuck around, and really, considering she would be dead by that time the next night, it was’t worth it to punish her for ‘prisoner misconduct’. That was why they left her be. Not because she scared their balls back into their bodies. The fact that she was Princess Diana’s wayward niece and, death row or not, the noble Lady would murder them all for even breathing in her direction, was a notable plus.
The last pirate, well… He’d chosen to spend his last night on earth doing push ups. It was probably better to leave him to his own devices.
Conner Kent. Whether or not he had any relation to Crown Prince Kal was anyone’s guess, but they did look startlingly similar; something the younger man had taken advantage of to avoid capture multiple times in the past.
To catch any of them wasn’t an easy task. The fact that they were all there thanks to the same man was beyond amazing.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
An auburn haired boy ran through busy port streets, his form almost a blur between passerbys. Jumping over crates, avoiding street vendors, sliding over banisters and landing at the very last step of any stair in his way, the youngster made a truly astounding escape.
Tough luck his opponent had accounted for that.
Just as he was rounding that last corner separating him from the port (and his freedom), a foot struck out. Quick thinking saved him from face planting on the disgustingly dirty streets, but his surprise and momentum cost him precious seconds of stumbling.
The swords pointing him from every direction when he straightened weren’t as threatening as the lone young man standing behind the National Guard, unarmed but from the cutting edge on his glare. Without breaking eye contact, the runner threw both hands up in surrender.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The guards barely even glanced up when the servant girl let herself in, softly pushing the trolley. They did, however, when the scent of food caught their attention.
“That for us, pretty lady?”
Blushing, the girl looked at both men from under her brown fringe.
“The… the prisoners…”
Elbowing each other, they smiled, sharks smelling blood in the water as they eyed the delicacies on display.
“It’d be a waste to let people who are gonna be fish food by this time tomorrow eat such an amazing feast.”
The girl hesitated again, her duty to feed the prisoners at war with the populace general unwillingness to disobey their military enforcers.
“Come on, pretty lady”, the other one edged on. “Who’s gonna tell the higher ups?”
Something flashed behind her beautiful blue eyes, and she nodded, gently pushing the trolley in their direction.
From within their cells, the three pirates watched in silence.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
If anyone were to ask, he’d been minding his own damn business when shit went down.
He had only wanted a beer. Really, life just wasn’t fair to wanted criminals.
It was just his luck that his crew chose this particular tavern to drink and make merry. Though, Kon supposes, it wasn’t their fault either. How would they know that the Lavender Throne pirates favored the same establishment?
He’d only been a member of the Renegades’ crew for about two months now, but he already knew how this fight would turn out. He was easily their best fighter, and the Lavenders were all about the same level of well trained; so here he was, alone in a circle of enemies, fist held high and feet doing their best not to trip over fallen crewmates.
Or maybe not so alone. A smaller back pressed against his, and he could see from the corner of his eye how the men trying to get his blind spot fell like flies. Not one to doubt his blessings, he doubled his efforts.
When things died down, Kon relaxed, marveling at the fact that just two of them were enough to deal with a full tavern of enemies. The bar maidens started to rise from under the tables they chose to hide behind, and Conner was about to turn around and thank his surprise saviour, when the feeling of cold metal against his neck stopped him in his tracks.
Uniformed men started bleeding into the room, dragging unconscious pirates away. When one approached him and his mysterious capturer, he almost felt the man behind him shaking his head.
“This one is high risk. I’ll take him myself.”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
“Are you sure? There’s plenty enough for all of us”, asked Dumb Guard Number one again, words almost unrecognizeable under his chewing.
The girl, sitting primly in the chair they oh so gentlemanly had offered for her to wait on until they finished their impromptu dinner, shook her head.
Dumb Guard Number two didn’t need to be told twice and snagged the last piece of bread.
“Is it just you two for the night?”, she asked, apropos of nothing.
The more sharing of the two nodded. “Yeah, until the morning shift guys come and take them away to the plaza for their sentence.”
She whistled softly.
“Seems kind of mean, having only you two to guard three of the most wanted pirates of the last few years.”
The second one smiled a bit. “Nah, we got dealt a nice hand. We get to eat and laze around, and as good as they are, they can’t weasel their way between those bars. No excitement here. The day guards are the unlucky ones here.”
“How so? Aren’t them, like, a lot more? Seems like it’d be easier, sharing the weight of it.”
“Yeah, but Lieutenant Drake will be with them, ‘s going to personally oversee the executions. Can’t exactly slack off with the favored son of Archduke Wayne breathing over your shoulder, now can you?”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
“Cassandra!”
“Go! I’ll hold them off!”
The older woman, holding desperately to the other’s hand, made a sound of profound distress.
“But-!”
“Donna, just go! If they catch you- just how much do you think Diana is going to suffer?”
“It’s the same with you! We can run together, there’s space in the spare boat”
They were running out of time. She knew convincing her older sister figure to leave her behind was not going to end well or happen quickly, so the blonde pirate shot a look to vice captain Artemis. They both knew Donna was just too important to risk like this, her relationship to Diana recognizable enough to use her as leverage against their Princess. Cassandra, as beloved as she was by the women who took her in, had spent the better half of her childhood hiding her real identity and running amok where few would be able to point her out as Princess Diana’s protegeè.
Ignoring her mistress’s screams, Vice captain Artemis’s arms went around her waist, lifting her clear off her feet and dragging her away, her strength forcing Donna’s hand free of Cassandra’s arm.
Soon, Cassie stood alone in an empty ship, sword in hand as she watched the sun setting over the horizon, the distant figure of dozens of escape boats a mere shadow in the distance.
When the sound of boards and then feet hitting the deck reached her, her hand tightened on the sword’s hilt, but she didn’t turn to see.
“It was a bold move. Brave, though.”
The words made her startle, spoken so closely to her ear, the approaching presence absolutely unnoticed until that exact second.
Breathing in deeply, Cassandra spun on her feet, sword raised. Her enemy was already a few feet away, safe from her board attack. His cold stare clashed with her feral growl, an ice prince facing off against an amazon fighter.
No other soldier dared approach them, as the sound of their clashing swords echoed in the quiet of the night as thunder.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Just as a distant clock was about to point both arms to its highest point, both guards fell asleep. Literally fell, face planting in the dirty prison ground.
Sighing tiredly, the young serving girl rose to her feet. Walking towards Dumn Guard Numer 2 (stopping only barely on her way to nudge Dumb Guard Numer one to the side, so he wouldn’t drown in the puddle his face had landed on), she crouched down and took the keys from his belt.
When she stood again, all three pirates were on their feet near their doors, waiting.
“Who’s first this time?” asked the youngest, voice vibrating in his excitement, smile bright.
“Me, for sure”, crowed Conner, hands on his hips.
“What are you talking about? I made him fight for it. Drew blood, even.” Cassandra, proud smile and raise hand, threw back in challenge.
To all their surprises, the maiden went straight for Allen’s door.
“What? Me?”
“What the fuck?”
“Are you seriously telling us IMP is the one who gave you the most trouble this time?”
The girl shrugged, but a small smile could be spotted under her calm facade if one cared enough to look for it (which they all did).
“I had to chase him all through Star Port city. I was tired afterwards. The two of you made me fight, but it wasn’t nearly as exhausting.”
The boy jumped out of his cell as soon as the door was opened, fist raised in victory.
“Yessss! Free booze!”
“It’s a stupid bet”, the girl shrugged at the other two’s upset frowns. “None of you are an actual challenge, after all.”
“Oh, shut up, asshole. Get us out of here before those dumbasses wake up.”
Before long, all three pirates and the young castle maid were running through empty streets towards the port.
“The ship is ready for you to take. I made it look like you stole it from a very drunk, very unsuspecting crew of beginners.” As they all ran, she… he, took his hand to his head, snatching away the brown wig. Hair, black like a raven’s wings, fell over his icy blue eyes.
Cassandra, keeping pace with him, accepted the disguise. “Where to, after?”
“There’s instructions on your next mission already written down on the back of the map, on the captain’s cabin. I left the key to the cellar as a paperweight over it, so there’s no way you’ll miss it.”
Behind them, the other two boys crowed in delight. Bart even makes a small little jump, never slowing their pace.
“Is it fully stoked?”
Turning to look at the bigger man over his shoulder, the maid-turned-criminal rolled his eyes.
“Half. I do need you all lucid enough to do your chores. But whatever you find along your way that doesn’t slow your progress on the mission, you can loot for yourselves. There’s an empty treasury on the right side of the ship just for that.”
Another jump, this time from the other pirate. The two running ahead shared an exasperated, though fond, look.
They reached the promised ship before long. It sat there, beautifully tilting this way and that thanks to the gentle waves reaching shore.
They stopped there for a second, the three pirates facing their rescuer.
“Will you be alright? Won’t anyone suspect?”
He shook his head, hands demurely raising his dress a slight inch from the ground in a small courtesy.
“Caroline Hill has a perfectly solid cover, and there are lots of people who’ll vouch for her if she’s ever suspected for tonight. Also, the guards chosen for the night shift are known for slacking off in their duty. Falling asleep close enough to the cells for one of you to snatch the keys and free themselves won’t be too much of a stretch for anyone to imagine.”
They smiled back at him.
“Do try to catch some sleep before going back there as Lieutenant Drake. You’ll need your beauty rest to give a convincing ‘I left those criminals in your care and you LOST THEM?!’ show.”
“The laughable state of the kingdom’s military is perpetually infuriating to me. Don’t worry, I’ll be believable. And I can use this as an excuse to fire the most incompetent guards in the history of ever.”
“Do you ever do anything without at least two different reasons and multiple plans banking on it?”
“Why would I, that just sounds like a waste of my time. Now go, run off, before someone sees four people hanging by the port and gets curious enough to remember faces.”
“When will we see you again?”, asks Conner, hand catching his friend’s shoulder before the man in the dress can turn around and leave.
“This mission should last a month or so, and after you hid the objective in the safe place I designated for it for me to pick up later, you’ll need to scatter. I’ll catch you again soo after that, so in total… maybe two months? Three if any of you give me an actual challenge, but I’m not holding my breath for that one.”
“Bastard. See you soon.”
“Make sure to take us drinking next time, Tim. We barely see you now that you have to play good lawful boy with your dad.”
“Only if you idiots take good care of the ship. The Red Bird is a delicate lady and I’ll hang you myself if there’s even a scratch on her beautiful shell.”
“It’s almost as if you care more about a bunch of wood and metal than us.”
“Because I do. Now fuck off.”
[In which Tim is a privateer (Basically a pirate with papers. As the name suggests, privateers were private individuals commissioned by governments to carry out quasi-military activities; in this case, Tim does illegal things for the greater good. As a military agent, he’s hiring himself lol) and the other three are pirates working for and with him, because they like to help him do good things and they also get a chance at fighting people, drinking and looting treasure outside their missions. Tim catching and then freeing them is how they exchange information or he gives them his orders.]
#my writting#core disaster week#day 4#historical-pirates#pirates#privateers#tim drake#kon el kent#bart allen#cassie sandsmark#humor maybe?#action i guess#a little bit at least#no angst#that's for sure#weird if you know me lol
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