#|| she could be fed any lie why the people have been gone

[starryevermore]

you said you were gonna come find me ✧ cardan greenbriar

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pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader

request: part 2 of the cardan fic?? - anon

summary: and you didn't wanna hang around. she said it was just goodbye for now. he said he was gonna grow up, then he would come find you.

word count: 1,728

warnings?: dual povs, a little angst with a happy ending, not proofread

PART ONE | PART THREE

The local children were convinced you were a witch. Part of you wanted to tell them that you were worse than a witch—that you could turn them into animal of your choosing, that you could make them do things and think they liked it, that you could ruin their lives by virtue of existing. Perhaps that was the heartache talking, so you instead shouted “boo!” when you caught them staring for too long. You supposed, though, you fed into the rumors of your being a witch. You came into this town out of nowhere, lived far away from the rest of its people, and only interacted with them when you went into town for food or a new library book. No one knew who you were or where you came from. At first, you reveled in the solace.

Now, you were only painfully are of how lonely you were.  

When you left Faerie, you went as far as you could from your former home. Traveled up to the mountains, found an abandoned cabin you could hole up in. There were few faeries in this area, mostly solitary fae that you would encounter while on walks in the woods, which had been the draw. Months later, you found yourself wishing you had set yourself up in one of the communities of fae who lived in the mortal lands. Would you be admitting defeat to leave the cabin now and join them? 

It wasn’t all horrible in your little cabin. Being away from court and all of its expectations was nice. You didn’t have to worry about carefully mincing your words so as not to offend anyone. You weren’t dragged into dances you would rather avoid. And you certainly did have to let your heart break over and over again as Jude at Cardan’s side. No, instead, you could read and write poetry and tend to the little garden you had started. You could find your happiness, even if it was without the one person you truly wanted by your side. 

You wondered how Cardan was doing. Had he even noticed you were gone? Did he care? He had seemed to miss seeing you when you danced with him on your last night in Faerie. But he had also not made any prior efforts to seek you out. Fae couldn’t lie, but they could manipulate. They could twist the truth to serve their interests. Few were better at doing so than Cardan. 

“When I learned you left Faerie, this was not the sort of place I expected you to be.”

You stiffened as you rounded the corner. The basket you’d been using to carry the herbs you foraged nearly fell from your grip. You squared your shoulders, looked down your nose at the woman seated at your dining room table. “I did not come here under the expectation to be found.”

Jude considered the room. The dirty dishes in the sink, the wilted flowers in the center of the table, the open storybook at the chair askew in front of her. “So it seems. It was not easy to find you.”

“You should have taken that as a sign to leave me be,” you said. You crossed the dining room and went into the kitchen. Jude’s chair scratched against the floor as she followed you. You ignored her as you began to unload the herbs from your basket. “I left Faerie for a reason.”

Though you were avoiding looking at her, you knew Jude’s eyes did not leave you. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought Jude was fae herself. The predatory glint in her eyes, the way her fingers itched to grab at her sword. She was not still like fae, nor was she unnaturally beautiful like fae, but she carried herself in such a way that you could be convinced otherwise. By human standards, she would have been the most beautiful of all. It was easy to understand why Cardan would choose her. Gorgeous but lethal—the exact sort of woman he would pursue. First Nicasia, now Jude. It was just as easy to see that you did not fit into the picture. 

“You ran in the middle of the night,” Jude said. You looked over your shoulder. Her brows were pinched together as she scrutinized you. 

“Have you come here to chastise me for leaving without a goodbye?”

She shook her head. “I have come because you were invited to breakfast.”

It was hard not to laugh. Was that why she came all the way to mountains to find you? Because you didn’t come to breakfast? It was so ridiculous. Of all the reasons to seek you out, it was the silliest of them all. Your heart ached all the same, though. No one came because you were a friend. No one came because you were missed. Would Cardan have even known you were gone if he hadn’t extended the invitation the very evening you fled? 

“If I have offended the King, then I extend my apologies.”

Jude lifted her chin. “Tell him yourself.”

Your jaw clenched and unclenched. No. You would not go to him. You would not drag yourself back to that palace and let yourself be reminded why you had to go. You refused to break your heart all over again. “I have no desire to return to Faerie.”

“You don’t have to.”

Cardan stood in your bedroom. It was different than your one in Faerie. The one there had been full of extravagant things—the finest things he could gift you. It was full of gold and pearl and opal, glittering as if it all needed to be housed in a vault. But this bedroom, it had been stitched together out of nothing. Threadbare blankets, smooshed pillows, books that looked like they would fall apart with one wrong look. Cardan listened to your conversation as your voice floated down the hall. Would you really choose all of this over being with him? Was he truly so terrible?

The floor creaked under his feet as he stepped out and walked down the hall. Cardan could only see the back of your head, but you still looked just as beautiful as he remembered. His fingers twitched at his side as he fought the urge to run up behind you, take you in his arms, and whisk you away to Faerie. When had you taken so much control over him? When had he given it to you so willingly? When had you decided you didn’t want it anymore? 

“I believe I am owed an apology?”

You turned slowly on your heel. Your eyes narrowed, but Cardan did not miss the flash of surprise. Your tongue swiped over your teeth. Would it be wrong to take that tongue in his mouth? Did it matter if it was? “I apologize.”

“My, that was heartfelt.”

Your eyes fell to the tail that swished around Cardan’s legs. It was still unfamiliar for him to have it out, still hard to control it from revealing his base emotions. He tried to will it to stop, but it continued to wave around as his excitement of seeing you bubbled in his chest. “Would you prefer I fall to my knees and weep for your forgiveness? Kiss your feet until you are pleased?”

“Oh, there are few things that would please me more than you on your knees for me, but I would prefer to not have an audience for that.”

Your gaze flitted from Cardan to Jude, who was inspecting your collection of kitchen knives. Were you debating sending her away? He would enjoy that. He would like to get on his own knees and remind you why he cared for you so. He misliked the distance you were putting between him. Maybe if he begged prettily enough, you would forgive him for whatever cruel thing he did that sent you running. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t appreciate learning that you fled in the middle of the night after inviting you to breakfast. Is my company so awful that you would rather leave your home than spend a moment with me?”

A scoff escaped your lips. “I didn’t expect you to care.”

Cardan stared. Didn’t care…? He was so sure he had been clear with his intentions. He sent you gifts—he sent you a ring! The ring…Cardan reached over to his littlest finger and slipped it off. Ignoring your noise of protest, he closed the distance, grabbed your hand, and slipped the ring back on the finger it belonged. His heart slowed to a normal beat.

“Why would I give you this ring if I didn’t care?”

You stared at the ring. “You have gifted me many things.”

Jude stepped toward you. Your head snapped over to look at her, as if you had forgotten she was there. She tapped on the glittering gem on the ring’s center. “Allow me—Cardan is not good at professions of love, it seems. I told him of how humans would gift a ring as a promise of love. He wished to do that for you. Usually, there are confessions of how one wants to stay with their partner for all of their lives, but it seems he forgot that part.”

Cardan’s face burned as you looked back to him. “Is that true?” you asked. 

“Do I need to get on my knees for you to believe it?” He ignored Jude’s remark that that, too, was part of the human tradition.

You straightened your spine. “I will not be a lover to the king.”

Of course you wouldn’t be. You deserved more than that. Cardan was willing to offer you more than that. All you had to do was give him the word. Without a thought, Cardan sank to his knees, captured your hands in his. “Then be my Queen.”

Your breath hitched. 

“Come back to Faerie and rule by my side. Allow me to love you as I have tried for all these years. I missed you.” He lifted one of your hands to lips, then the other. “I begged Jude to help me find you and bring you home. I begged her to help me come here. Please, don’t let it all be for not.”

All you could manage was a single nod, and that was enough. 

PART THREE

[yuri-is-online]

Damn I'm really like the storyline of this game.But FUCK Leo,if I ever get a chance to smacked the shit out of him, please Chancellor one chance.He fucked with the Mc head, how Alan and Thoma didn't kick him out that car if beyond me, there better than me honestly.Sho isn't much better because he's going along just because he's isn't mean.

Just because there isn't cruelty that doesn't mean kindness.But he's the lesser evil.Makes me sad for Alan.

Let's talk about Lucas I wonder if the soul system is like JJK,like if your twins you share the same soul and that's why the demon took his brother.

Also which character did you pick for your first

-🤡

I picked Thoma first, but I didn't take screenshots of the opening. Probably gonna use my emulator to take a crack at screencapping all of the boys intros because I am insane and want to pick it apart for lore research.

Twins sharing the same soul/being seen as the same person is very common in Japanese folklore if I understand correctly? But that might just be me overthinking the plot of Fatal Frame II: Crimson Butterfly. So yes that's my assumption too, the demon likely took Luca's brother in his place since they technically share a soul.

Now. Let's talk about Leo. The main reason Alan and Thoma didn't immediately kick him out of the car was to not make a scene. Thoma specifically seems to respect the opportunistic sort, and thinks that Leo shows promise if he shapes up. He's skilled with tech, good at reading people, quick on his feet, all of those things are arguably good traits that Vagastrom, and Alan, could really use! Besides it's not like he has enough on either of them to get in their way yet, best to play it cool and walk away with the upper hand. Another thing we learn from this conversation that might be easy to miss is that unlike Twisted Wonderland where each dorm has rules about who should be the leader, Darwick's Administration picks the Captain and Vice Captain of the dorm, and grades seem to be more important to them than say. Whether or not the person has a good character, as we have seen from both Thoma and Leo, is significantly less important.

But if there is one thing I sort of have to point out that I think Alan gets and tries to call him out on, Leo is incredibly short sighted. He sees MC's power as worthless not because it doesn't work but because he already used it and got what he wants from it. He doesn't see anyone other than himself, and maybe Sho, as a person so he doesn't feel any guilt about using MC to get what he wants and then trying to get her kicked out of the school. He's also the only bitch in this house that completely ignores that MC can't leave, he doesn't mention her curse once when talking about her and honestly I don't think he was paying attention enough to remember that she can't leave because of that. Allan makes a point at the end of the Vagastrom book that I really hope is followed up on:

I sort of read this as applying to his friendship with Sho and his own reputation. Sure, it's all fun and games now while he snatches up the Vice Captain role and still has Sho doing his bidding, but well. Sho does occasionally do what he wants, he didn't go along with Leo's plan, not completely. He didn't outright lie about MC's power, and he hates how Leo keeps asking about why the ghouls made their wish on a demon. He thinks it's wrong, he hates it. Leo's treatment of MC did bother him, and I know he doesn't want MC to die. I don't know how far you or anyone else has made it, but something happens in Book 3 that makes it seem like MC has gone missing, and according to Hyde all of the Frostheim, "and one or two" of the Vagastrom ghouls have to be talked out of going to look for her.

As of right now Leo's only real ally is Sho. If Sho gets fed up with him and stops covering his ass, then Leo has no one, and I don't think that's occurred to him since according to Sho's bio they've been friends since long before Darkwick. Anyway I hope they get divorced and Sho gets to keep his food truck. Like I said, we can run Leo over with it for the insurance money.

Have some Side Notes:

The ring of Solomon, or the ring of wisdom, granted Solomon the power to make demons do his bidding in the original myth. Since ghouls powers come from demons, in some way, shape, or form, my theory is that the ring is likely enhancing the demonic part of them.

The "like doves" supposedly appear when someone is thinking of you positively/likes you. The first people to make these doves appear around MC are Luka and Kaito. The second is Sho, which is honestly why I am a bit softer on him then I should be. The third time it shows up is at the end of Jabberwock's book with all three dorm members present, meaning literally the only bitch in this house who does not respect MC is fucking Leo that dick-

while it isn't specified, Professor Dante appears to be the advisor for both Frostheim and Vagastrom, something I think is more or less confirmed by Hyde being in charge of both Jabberwock and Sinostra. Anyway the point I want to make is that we are missing a dorm if we follow the rule of each advisor being in charge of two, and no I don't mean the two missing characters from Obscuary I mean a whole dorm that seems to have specialized in exorcisms (perhaps of curses 👀):

My personal theory is that their dorm used to be in the Cathedral we are staying in and that it was destroyed during "the Clash" that's been alluded to in the first part of the story, we don't know much about it other than 1) it was between ghouls, perhaps exclusively 2) there is a spy of some sort Thoma and Alan are looking for that might have had something to do with it and 3) a Frostheim student behaved very badly during the Clash to the point Thoma seems to think they should take some responsibility for it. But that's just my speculation, don't know how much of it's real.

[fivedayslater]

Part 18: Lounge

Dinner and a Murder: A Mr. Prince Mystery Masterpost

“Let’s check the lounge,” Sanji says as turns back to the room at large, “Since the candlestick that killed Nami came from here, I want to get a closer look.”

“Alright,” Zoro nods as he gestures in front of him, “Lead the way.”

Sanji begins circling the room. He spots a candlestick similar to the one that killed Nami on a nearby shelf, and sure enough there’s a spot in the accumulated dust where a second one would have gone.

“Looks like the candlestick did come from here,” he says as he turns back to Zoro, “You were right.”

“Of course I was right,” he scoffs, but he can’t hide the pleased smile on his face, and Sanji finds his own form as well.

The woodsmoke from the dying fire is heavy in the air as he keeps searching, tickling Sanji’s nose. As he approaches the fire, he recalls suddenly that the same smell was present on Ace’s body when he examined it earlier.

He looks back at the room, examining it in a new light as he says, “I think Ace may have been killed here.”

“Really?” Zoro frowns as he glances around too, his brow furrowing when he can’t see what Sanji sees, “How do you know?”

“The smoke smell,” he taps his nose, “His body had the same smell, even though he wasn’t in the lounge before dinner.”

“I see,” Zoro smiles as he turns back to him, “You really are something.”

Sanji blushes as he looks away, Zoro’s direct gaze making him feel too giddy, “Yes. Well. Any detective would have realized the same.”

“Why did you become a detective anyway?” Zoro asks as Sanji begins his search again, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Why did you become a detective anyway?”

“Hm?” Sanji hums as he stops and glances back at him, “What do you mean?”

“It’s not really a common career path,” Zoro says as he crosses his arms in front of him, “I don’t know any other detectives that weren’t cops first, but you don’t strike me as a cop.”

“That’s because I’m not,” Sanji says as he tries to figure out how to explain it to Zoro without revealing everything.

But in the end he realizes he doesn’t mind if he does. He wants Zoro to know about him, to understand him. Maybe after everything Zoro could accept him, maybe he could-

He cuts that thought off. No need to run away with himself.

Instead he decides to start from the beginning.

“When I was seventeen, my mother was killed.”

“What?” Zoro’s eye goes wide as he takes a step forward.

“...And I was the prime suspect.”

“What?” He repeats, harsher this time, an angry vengeance in his gaze despite the issue having long been resolved.

“The real killer considered me a nuisance and a burden and wanted me out of the way,” he explains as clinically as he can, “so he did everything he could to frame me. Planted evidence, coerced witnesses to lie, fed the investigators stories about my short temper and violent streak.” He shakes his head, “I think the only reason they didn’t arrest me right away was because I was still a minor and she was my mother.”

Zoro’s gaze goes impossibly soft, and Sanji has to look away again. Still, his presence is a solid comfort at his side, and it urges him to continue.

“I knew I didn’t do it,” he says, “And no one else was looking into other options, all convinced I did it.” He looks back to Zoro, “So I took matters into my own hands, and investigated it myself.” He shrugs, “Turns out I have a knack for seeing things that others miss, a charismatic personality that makes people want to talk, and an inability to take no for an answer.”

“That does sound like you,” Zoro chuckles, “And, you solved it in the end, right?”

“Yeah,” Sanji exhales slowly, “The killer turned out to be her husband. My birth father.”

Zoro’s jaw drops as he gapes at him, “Your father set you up?”

“He…was never a nice man.” 

“I’ll kill him,” Zoro says with a steel edge to his voice that makes Sanji shudder, “If I ever see him, he’s dead.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Sanji rests a hand on his arm, and rubs comforting circles into it with this thumb, causing Zoro to relax under his ministrations, “But it’s fine. It’s all over and done with.”

There is plenty more Sanji can say about that wretched scum masquerading as a human being, but he’d made the decision to wash his hands of him the moment the judge announced the guilty verdict. Instead he chose to focus on the things he did have, and the people who were there for him, “One of the investigators on the case – the only one who actually took me seriously – took me in afterwards. Taught me everything he knew. He was more of a father to me than that bastard ever was.”

“I…wow,” Zoro looks gobsmacked, and Sanji can’t blame him. He lived through it, and even he has trouble believing it happened, “I’m glad you found someone who cared about you. You deserve at least that much.”

Sanji’s face flushes at the softness in his tone, and clears his throat before he continues.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, pulling away to rub his own arm, “I realized there were a lot of people out there who were in that situation though, who have mysteries that need solving, or are being blamed for something that isn't their fault, and that I could help them. So I kept at the detective thing. I find the truth for them, so they never have to feel as helpless as I felt.”

“That’s…” Zoro’s looking at him again with that impossibly soft look, but now Sanji feels he can face it head on, assess it for what it’s worth, “That’s incredibly you, isn’t it?”

Sanji laughs, “Well, I can’t be anyone other than me.”

“And I’d never want you to.”

Sanji blushes and looks away again.

“You’ll solve this mystery too,” Zoro says. There’s a surety in his tone, as if he knows that to be a fact and is just waiting for Sanji to catch up, “You’ll find the truth here. If anyone can, it’s you.”

“I…” Sanji isn’t sure what to say in the face of Zoro’s confidence, so he settles for, “Thanks, Mosshead.”

“Anytime,” Zoro laughs, reaching out to brush his fingers against Sanji, just for a moment, before pulling away again and nodding to the rest of the room, “So, you see anything else we need in here?”

Sanji takes another look around, spotting something shiny by the fireplace, something else under the couch, papers in the trash can, and a cloth tucked in between the cushions of the armchair.

[a-case-of-attachment]

Rating: T

Pairings: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: people treating Witchers like dirt ~ protective Jaskier ~ swearing ~ mentions of blood and injuries

The Lover ->

<- The Hunter

Geralt gritted his jaw, hands curling into fists on the bar top as he tried to keep his anger in check but it was getting hard and harder with every word that was coming out of the inn keeper’s mouth. “We ain’t got room for your kind freak,” he spat out, arms folded across his chest and looking at Geralt like he was the scum of the earth.

Geralt was used to this or he had been used to it but travelling with Jaskier had made him soft, these sort of things happening so rarely now that he had almost forgotten that so many people still hated his kind. Almost but places like this reminded him quick enough. Jaskier wasn’t with him now, had gone running back to the countess de Stael just after the incident with the djinn with nothing more than an enthusiastic wave as he practically ran towards her awaiting carriage they had come across by chance and a promise to meet again soon but that had been months ago.

Not that Geralt cared.

It was better without the bard’s constant noise and habit of finding trouble when there shouldn’t even be any. It wasn’t like the silence was grating on him or that on the long and lonely days he missed Jaskier’s warm and ever optimistic presence or that he had started to talk to Roach more just to fill the silence. Geralt was doing fine on his own but in situations like this Jaskier and his flamboyant way of talking would have come in useful for once. He had a way with words that could either end up with him getting exactly what he wanted or a punch in the teeth. Either way he would probably have better luck then Geralt currently was.

He was tired, covered in monster guts and swamp water and had a gouge on his side that needed cleaning and then probably stitches. Geralt knew he looked a mess, like the monster people often called him but he had just freed the villagers of a Kikimore infestation that he had already been underpaid for by the alderman and his patience was beginning to wear thin. He didn’t want much just a hot bath and something to eat and drink. Sure a warm and dry place to sleep would have been a welcomed luxury but he would settle for the bath and food but the inn keeper wouldn’t even give him that.

“I just want…” he started but was cut off by the sound of several chairs scrapping across the floor, the gentle mummer of chatter dying. “You heard him freak, we ain’t got room for the likes of you here”. Geralt sighed at the gruff voice, able to tell that at least three men stood behind him. They all reeked of drink and anger, ready for a fight that Geralt didn’t want to have.

Resigned to his fate Geralt pushed away from the bar, mumbling a quiet thank you to the inn keeper as he went. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he left, hunching his shoulders and curling in on himself in an attempt to make himself seem smaller. He really wasn’t in the mood for a fight or to be chased from the town whilst being pelted with rocks so he would go quietly, using this as a good reminder as to why he shouldn’t let how Jaskier was with him cloud his judgment of other people.

Feeling dejected and stupid for it Geralt made his way back to the stable where he had left Roach. He had already paid for her lodging for the night but he didn’t want to have to come back for her in the morning and risk getting stoned for it. It was a shame, she could do with a good nights rest as much as he could but these things happen and thankfully the stable hand had already fed her. She wasn’t happy about it, huffing and nudging Geralt in the shoulder but she is a good horse and with a slight tug on her reigns she follows after him.

“That’s it girl. Next time I promise we’ll stay all night,” he mumbles, stroking down her snout as he leads her down the road and back towards the woods. It’s a lie, a promise he couldn’t keep and they both knew it, Roach huffing and nudging his shoulder again. This part of the continent wasn’t very friendly to Witcher’s though and Geralt doubted they would have any better luck at the neighbouring villages in the next few days.

That was fine.

He would manage.

Like always.

“Geralt?” He stopped at the familiar voice, head snapping up and in the direction it had come from. There in the middle of the dirt road stood Jaskier. The confusion on his face quickly morphed into excitement and even in the dark of night Geralt could see his blue eyes lighting up. “GERALT!” he exclaims loudly, throwing his arms wide and before Geralt really knew what was happening Jaskier was pulling him into a hug, arms squeezing tightly and patting him on the back.

Geralt grunted, not even having time to react before Jaskier was pulling away, clasping Geralt by the shoulders and smiling widely. “It has been to long my friend,” Jaskier beamed. “Not your friend,” he grunted back automatically, so used to giving that response after all these years despite it no longer being true. Jakier waved him off, stepping back and still smiling brightly as if he hadn’t heard Geralt. “Are you just on your way out or in my dearest Witcher? In I would assume looking like that but it doesn’t matter, regardless of what one it is I insist you join me for a drink. I simply must know what you have been up to these last few months,” Jaskier took Roche’s reigns he spoke, leading the mere back towards the stables they had just come from, the horse gladly following after him at the prospect of getting to return to the warmth and comfort she had been taken from.

“I don’t think…” Geralt started to protest, following behind the bard and eyes darting around the darkened streets, looking for any sign of villagers who would want chase him off with pitchforks and torches. “I simply must insist Geralt,” Jaskier cut him off as they walked back into the stables and towards the bemused stable hand. “You back already?” he grunted, eyeing them suspiciously. Jaskier looked between the two of them, frowning slightly before realisation seemed to dawn on him but Geralt would put money on him not coming to the correct conclusion.

“No rooms left at the inn?” he asked as he passed Roach off to the stable hand along with a couple of coins. Geralt would have told Jaskier not to bother, that Roach’s stay had already been paid for but the boy snatched the money up quickly and was leading the horse away before he could, only just giving Geralt enough time to slip his saddle bags off before she was gone. “No,” he growled, glaring at Jaskier but it didn’t seem to bother him.

Technically Geralt hadn’t lied. There had been no room for him at the inn, even if there had been empty rooms available.

“No bother. I already have a room and you my friend could do with a nice hot bath and something to eat, my treat for killing whatever it is that you are covered in,” Jaskier wrinkled up his nose in disgust as he gestured to Geralt, already on his way out of the stable and back up the road towards the inn. Geralt should say something, should warn the bard that he wasn’t welcomed here and he might find himself out on his ass for bring Geralt back with him but he was tired and sore and he had a small flicker of hope that Jaskier would do what he does best and use his face words to confuse the simple locals and get Geralt into his room without too much trouble.

Geralt trailed after Jaskier, listening to the man ramble on about how the countess had once again left him but this time it had been in Jaskier’s best interest because her cousin had shown up not long before his departure and the man had wandering hands that always seemed to have a fondness for Jaskier’s pert bottom, as the bard so eloquently put it. Geralt just grunted, barely listening to the words as he gripped his bags and tried to make himself look as small as he could.

Jaskier was still talking when he pushed the inn’s door open, the whole room going quiet when Geralt stepped through the door but Jaskier didn’t seem to notice, strutting right up to the bar and leaning against it, smiling brightly up at the man who was scowling at Geralt. “Evening kind sir, I would like a bath please and two bowls of hot stew sent up to my room along with two cups of your finest ale,” he tipped his head back slightly, his bright eyes finally looking up at the inn keeper, only for his smile to fall when he noticed the look on his face. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told ‘im-” he jerked his head towards Geralt, his scowl deepening, “-we ain’t got room for his kind”.

Jaskier stood up straighter, his frown deepening as he looked around the room and taking in the hostility that was directed all at Geralt. “Right,” he mumbled, something dark flashing behind his eyes as his frown twisted. Geralt knew that look, it was he same look he got every time someone insulted Geralt or implied he was less simply because he was a Witcher. It also normally ended up with him getting in a bar fight and Geralt was too tired to take on the ten men that filled the tavern.

‘Jask,” he sighed, every intention of telling him not to worry, that Geralt was fine but like always Jaskier was quicker with his words than Geralt would ever be. “Do you not require coin to run this establishment?” Jaskier turned his cold blue eyes back to the inn keeper, his voice just as cold and seemingly taking the man by surprise. “Yes but,” Jaskier cuts him off, talking over whatever he was going to say but Geralt suspected it would have been a slur on him and his kind. “And do you not rely on the patronage of passing travellers like myself and my friend to earn said coin?” Geralt could feel the tension in the room, could smell the anger and fear but just at the edges something else was starting to creep in, people already shifting in their sets as if they knew where Jaskier was going with his little rant.

The man crossed his arms over his chest, his beady eyes narrowing at Jaskier as he grunted his response, “what is your point bard?” Jaskier smiled slightly, something soft yet some how full of mischief that wouldn’t be out of place when he was in the middle of playing one of his more risqué little ditties. It seemed out of place here where no one was singing along, full of alcohol and joyous in spirit. “I don’t know if you know this but I’m quite famous, wrote a popular little ditty called Toss A Coin, maybe you have heard of it?” Jaskier paused for effect, his eyes sweeping across the room and taking in the uncomfortable look on more than a couple of the men’s faces. So that forsaken song had even made its way to this hell hole.

“It’s quite amazing the power a simple little song can have, so imagine the damage that could be done to an already nameless little shit hole that is nothing more that a mud stain on a map if a song started to circulate about how unwelcoming and vile the people there are. I hate to imagine how quickly said town would fall into ruin, wouldn’t you?” Jaskier said it all with a light and friendly voice, as if he was having a conversation about the weather with an old friend but his eyes stayed cold and angry, fixed on the inn keeper and almost daring him to assume Jaskier was lying about his prowess.

The smell in the room changed once more, anger spiking but the rancid smell of fear began to grow. Towns like this relied heavily on passing trade, selling their wears and skills to those who passed. Its what got them through the long and harsh winters, what kept their families fed and safe and Jaskier was threatening that safety, their livelihoods and all in the name of Geralt’s honour. Sometimes he thought that Jaskier was wrong in the head, making unnecessary enemies because they didn’t treat Geralt how Jaskier thought he should be treated but it also brought a warmth to his chest, his heart beating just that little bit faster for a second or two. Jaskier cared enough to defend him, wanted Geralt to have the luxury of walking the Path and not having to fear he would be turned away or chased by an angry mob. He wanted people to see Geralt how he saw him, a hero, a defender, a person and he wouldn’t settle for anything else.

“What do you want bard?” the inn keeper gritted out between clenched teeth, looking at Jaskier like he wished him dead. Jaskier smiled brightly, his cold anger disappearing as he went back to his normal, cheery self. “As I was saying, my friend here as kindly just rid you of a…” Jaskier looked at Geralt expectantly. “Kikimore,” he grunted, rolling his shoulders and standing a little straighter now that he could feel things shifting in his favour. “A Kikimore, how ghastly. How lucky of you poor, defenceless people that a helpful Witcher come along and got rid of the vile beast before it could eat you all,” he raised his voice, letting it carry across the room and his eyes quickly flickering around the room. The men shifted, an unease settling on them that Geralt would liken it to guilt if he thought the men of this town had it in them to feel anything other than contempt towards him.

“After all that hard and dangerous work you can see that my friend is in desperate need of a hot bath and food and some fine ale so if you could have two bowls of hot stew and two mugs of your finest ale sent up to my room that would be much obliged. Oh and the hot bath as well”. Jaskier looked at the man expectantly, that sickly sweet smile still on his lips. The inn keeper grunted, clearly annoyed by the whole situation. “Cost extra and it better stay in the room,” he jerked his head towards Geralt but didn’t look at him, keeping his angry glare on the bard. Jaskier rolled his eyes but took out his coin purse, laying a few down on the bar top that the man snatched up quickly.

Jaskier didn’t waste any time, getting behind Geralt and shoving him towards the stairs. He could stop him if he wanted to but Geralt allowed the weaker man to direct him to the stairs but Jaskier stopped half way up, he anger getting sharper again. “Oh and no extra bodily fluids, my friend here will know,” he patted Geralt’s shoulders as he spoke and Geralt turned his head to glare at the inn keeper, playing his part in Jaskier’s little intimidation. He would know, always knew when people spat or pissed in his food or drink. It was disgusting but it happened, though no one had yet been stupid enough to try it with Jaskier. Geralt would have made them regret it if they had.

Jaskier didn’t give the man a chance to answer, pushing Geralt back up the rest of the steps before slipping around him and heading towards his room at the end of the corridor. Geralt had only just gotten into the room before he started fussing over him, hands flittering about him but not touching all the gore that clung to him. “Jaskier,” he grumbled, his tone heavy with disapproval. He appreciated the other man’s efforts but Geralt really wasn’t worth the trouble he could get into.

Jaskier scoffed, rolling his eyes at Geralt as he headed to the door when a loud bang came. “Oh hush, they were being bigoted assholes and after you saved their ungrateful lives as well. They should truly be ashamed of themselves,” he didn’t even look at the three rather burly and angry looking men on the other side of the door as he yanked it open, holding it ajar as they brought in a bath tub and the first few buckets of what Geralt could already tell was tepid water.

They didn’t look at Geralt as they placed the tub in front of the already lit fire and then quickly disappeared. Jaskier left the door open, obviously optimistic that they would continue to fill the shallow tub and not leave it with the inch or two of water that was in it. “Still,” Geralt grunted, knowing that Jaskier would understand what he was trying to say without him having to use the unneeded amount of words that Jaskier was so fond of. Geralt could take care of himself but Jaskier was human and if anything happened to him because of Geralt, well he didn’t really know what he would do.

Jaskier sighed, heading towards Geralt as the men came back with multiple buckets and continued to fill the bath. He stopped in front of Geralt, looking up at him with a mix of fondness and exasperation. “Its nothing Geralt really. You know I hate how these people treat you, plus what are friends for if not to help each other out in difficult times,” he spoke softly, hands hovering above Geralt’s chest as if he was going to put his hands on him but seemed to have thought better of it.

“Not your friend,” Geralt grunted but he could feel a small smile tugging at his lips, no heat to his words. Jaskier smiled at him, understanding what Geralt was truly trying to say. “Of course, how silly of me to forget that Witcher’s don’t have friends,” Jaskier teased, any lingering anger subsiding as the smell of wild flowers and summer got stronger, Jaskier feeling happy. Geralt liked that smell, wished that he could bottle it for when the other man wasn’t there, for when he came to places like this with people who only saw a monster. It would be a good reminder that there was at least one person out there who cared, one person who he could make happy, who didn’t think him anything more than a man.

They stood there for a long moment, staring into the others eyes and smiling, neither of them really paying attention to the men filling the tub until someone slammed the door closed and Jaskier jumped back, clearly surprised by the sudden noise. The bard laughed nervously, stepping away from Geralt and towards the bed and his own bags, rifling through them in what Geralt thought was an obvious attempt to make himself seem busy. “Well? Come on now Geralt, into the tub before the water gets cold. When was the last time you had a proper bath any way, your hair looks like a rats nest. You need to start looking after yourself better Witcher or you will end up having to cut that precious hair of yours off and wouldn’t that be a travesty,” he called over his shoulder, brandishing a hand behind him towards the now filled tub.

Geralt smiled as he began to work on the buckles of his armour. Jaskier had started to hum, that same sad and wistful tune that he had been working on for a couple of years now. The tune was so familiar by now that Geralt instantly felt himself relax. He had missed this, Jaskier’s gentle nagging and soft humming though he would never admit it to the bard. It was rare to have someone show this much concern for him, even among his brothers and it made him feel warm and wanted to have such attention.

Geralt made quick work of stripping out of his armour and clothes, leaving them to the side to be dealt with latter. Jaskier truly was a good friend and Geralt knew he was lucky to have someone care about him the way Jaskier did. Not many Witcher’s got that and he should tell Jaskier how grateful he was for it but words were never his strong point and he didn’t want to fuck it up. He always felt actions were better than words anyway and he hoped that from his actions Jaskier knew how he felt.

“By the gods Geralt, why didn’t you say someone had tried to gut you like a fish,” Jaskier screeched loudly.

Fuck.

He had forgotten about the gouge in his side.

[bastillia]

iv. Better Be Quick

Part 4 of Loyalties Lie (1, 2, 3)

Read on AO3

Summary: What was supposed to be a regular day becomes more than you bargained for, thanks to Boba Fett.

Rating: M (fic is Explicit)

Words: 4.9k 

Warnings: None.

A/N: Thank you to @kylorengarbagedump​ for constantly cheering me on every time I think I’ve lost my ability to write forever. Literally couldn’t have finished this without your support. Sorry I’ve been gone forever y’all but please enjoy! 💛

***

Dawn melts across the walls of Capital City, as quiet and calm as your steps on the pavement below. The season is hovering on the verge of change—you can feel it in the chill of the air as you emerge from a shadowed street and into the light of the central market square. 

You draw a breath and release a cloud of glittering fog. A smile touches your lips. The air is cold, but laden with scents of spiced root tea and fresh baked tuber pies that warm you right down to your toes.

A steady stream of people have already gathered, flowing and eddying between market stalls, stirring the quiet with a hum of chatter. Morning fog still hovers, steeped in sunlight and shedding a pale golden glow over the plaza just bright enough to soothe the bite of frost in your cheeks.

Your feet begin to carry you across the square while you enjoy the emerging sun and run through your mental checklist of items to gather. You’re in no hurry. Market day is bliss–your own little slice of freedom at the end of each week. Here, there’s no scrutiny: no bar to tend, no eggshells to walk on. Just existence out here at the very end of your tether, where you can feign something like independence for a few precious hours.

A fountain arcs in the center of the square, now host to a small gathering of children. They giggle and lean over the edge, then erupt into shrieks when water sprays their faces. The herd scatters, weaving around your knees, and you lift your basket to avoid bonking any little heads in the fray.

But one overzealous tot smacks straight into your knees and stumbles backwards, plopping down on the tiled duracrete. The tiny Rodian’s face falls as she looks up at you, devastation pooling in her big, starry eyes. You’re quicker, though, swooping down to her level and pulling her to her feet. 

“Whoa! You okay?” You straighten her fluffy hat back over her antennae and look her over. It’s clear she’s unhurt, but you let concern linger for just a moment, before cracking a grin and spinning her by the shoulders. “Everything still attached?”

She breaks into giggles as you spin her back around to face you, and gives a shy nod. You wink.

“Better go catch up, then.”

Glee beams across her little face, and she races off once more to rejoin the pack. A person you can only assume to be her guardian gives you a grateful wave from several paces away. You smile back as another spout of laughter bursts from the group of kids. Something tugs at your heart. 

At their age, laughter was foreign to you. By then, you were already learning to sneak and steal, finding the best furnace vents to sleep under for warmth on these very same streets. You’re glad they’ll never have to know that life. Glad that they each have someone who will care when they’re hurt, keep them warm and fed, with no cruel-faced officers in pressed uniforms to come and rip that away from them. 

You swallow a pang of sadness, and shake it away. It doesn’t matter. The Empire is gone, now. Anyway, you shouldn’t be so ungrateful–your circumstances could have been far worse. At least Dakk eventually found you, scrappy little criminal that you were, and took you in before you could get into any serious trouble. He put a roof over your head; taught you how to work for your keep, rather than beg and thieve. You at least owe him thanks for that.

A beeping noise in your earpiece tugs you back to the present. Speak of the void. 

Why the hell is Dakk even calling? It’s too early for him to be up, let alone nagging you about your errands already. Your brows knit. Maybe he forgot to add jogan fruit to the list. He should know that you always pick it up anyway–it’s his favorite, after all.

Shifting your basket to the other arm, you reach up and tap your ear.

“Don’t worry, Dakk, I’m not going to forget–”

“Your manners, this time.”

Your insides lurch at the sound of Boba Fett‘s voice. Only when a few puzzled glances shoot your way do you realize that you just whirled around faster than a spooked fathier in the middle of the square. And now you’re panting, eyes shifting as if he might appear behind the nearest corner. You clear your throat and smooth your cowl. Cheeks on fire, you duck your head and resume your course, hoping your voice sounds more composed than you feel.

“Is it always going to be like this with you?” 

You set your intent on a cluster of market stalls on the far side of the square. 

“I need you to do something.”

The words roll easily through soft static, but you can hear his smirk. Bastard. You manage a slightly pained looking smile-and-nod as you pass a merchant, waving at you from behind a display lined with carved stone figurines. You force your pace down to a stroll. Approaching the next colorful canopy, you lower your voice. 

“You know I don’t work for you, right?”

You stop in front of the stall, meeting the vendor’s eyes and offering a smile in greeting. He returns it, before glancing down bashfully. 

“There’s a package arriving at the harbor spaceport. 0800, hangar nine. Pick it up for me.”

Your hand floats over a barrel brimming with purple fruit, letting his words bounce off a wall of indifference. It would seem Fett has lost his ability to hear you now, anyways. Why he thinks you should agree to run his errands is beyond you. 

Adrenaline has eased its way out of your chest now, allowing bravery to inhabit the vacant space. Waking up that tiny proclivity for gambling on dangerous odds, especially when your opponent is a notorious-killer-turned-crime-lord. You pick up a ripe jogan and turn the fruit in your fingers.

“Mm. I’m busy.”

A thrill tickles your belly. He’s making this far too easy for you.

“I’ve wired fifty thousand credits to your account.” 

The jogan drops into the barrel with a thud.

“What?” 

Multiple heads turn. Your face contorts into a pained smile, palms turning out in an apologetic gesture. You point to your comm, as if that explains anything, before giving up and darting down an empty alleyway.

“What the fuck, Fett? You can’t just–how–how did you even–” Your mind is racing far too quickly for your words to catch up. Only one clear thought stabs right through the chaos. “Dakk will notice.”

“Then you’d better be quick.” 

There’s that smirk in his voice again. The karking son of a gundark—

“I’ll see to it that you’re rewarded for your effort.”

“No!” You screw your eyes shut and shake your spinning head. “I mean, you—you can’t send me money.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” His voice dips into that graveled register, and heat erupts through your face. “You already know the code phrase. You’ll hear from me when you’ve secured the package.”

Static whispers, and the comm goes dead. Blinking, you turn and press your back to the duracrete wall. 

You’re so fucked. 

And stupid. Yes, you are incredibly stupid for playing this game with Fett, and now you’ve gone and earned yourself an equally stupid prize, and one on a time limit to boot. You need to get rid of those credits before Dakk wakes up.

A curse flies out from under your breath. What the fuck is Fett buying on Lothal with fifty thousand credits?

You hold a button on your cuff and a tiny holoprojection blinks to life. 0743. Barely enough time to walk to the spaceport. A deep breath hisses through your teeth. 

Fuck it.

***

By the time you arrive, the harbor port is thrumming with life. Huge docking bay doors line the center row, the main runway opening to the glittering sea beyond. Freighters sit nestled in their hangars, pregnant with goods from every corner of the galaxy, while boats bearing trade from Kothal and Jalath glide lazily into the harbor. Pilots, sailors, and couriers mingle, chatting idly over their exchanges while repulsorlift chains link together and join the flow of crates in and out of the port, snaking in neat lanes like Coruscant traffic.

Smaller hangars jut away in two rows from either side of the center hub. They host far less activity; you can only see a few jumpsuit-clad pilots strolling towards the bustling harbor center.

Just as your eyes scan down to one end, a small black ship curves into view and hovers, like a carrion bird, drifting down into the farthest bay at the end. You check the time. 0758. 

Glancing around, you find a simple directory that outlines the three rows of hangar bays, each marked with its corresponding number. You search it briefly, only to confirm what your flayed nerves already suspect—your courier awaits you at the deserted hangar, in the carrion ship.

Pulse in your eardrums, your feet suddenly go leaden, as if trying to fuse you to the dock. Some last-ditch effort by your subconscious to keep you from doing something catastrophically stupid. 

Somewhere in the deafening rush of blood, you manage to hear that your commlink is chirping again. Your finger finds the receiver under your sleeve. 

“Okay, I’m here.”

“Lose the attitude,” Dakk’s groggy grumble responds. “And don’t forget the jogans.”

Shit.

“I…” Say something, you idiot. “I won’t forget.”

“Gonna be doin’ the books today.” A rustling sound comes over the line. “I’d better not find any more discrepancies in your account.”

Panic laces your throat, draws it closed in a snare. You try to swallow. It won’t budge.

“I’m sorry, Dakk. It won’t happen again.”

He grunts. The comm goes dead.

The lead evaporates from your feet.

You launch into a half-sprint toward the hangar, periphery a blur. In your haste, you manage to shoulder-check a mustached pilot strolling the opposite direction, jumpsuit rolled down to his waist. 

“Sorry!” you sputter. 

The man wheels to you in surprise. His hair has grayed, and his eyes are kind, and you’re out of time. 

“No worries, can I help you find somethi—“

“I know where I’m going!” Void above, at least try to act natural. “Sorry, uh, th-thank you very much.” 

It’ll have to suffice. You resume your course, trying not to break into a full run. The last thing you need is to draw attention while you do… whatever this is. 

Finally, you reach the end of the row and approach the last hangar door, taking a moment to peer behind you. 

The dockway is empty, your commlink mercifully inert. The only sounds that you can hear are the pounding in your own skull, the waves lapping against metal farther down at the boat docks, and… 

Footsteps.

A faint rhythm approaching from within the hangar. Your gaze shifts up to the large, rust-eaten number “9” bolted above the heavy door to the control room. 

Here goes.

You already know the code phrase.

Fett was fucking mistaken about that. There’s no way you won’t royally fuck this up. But at this point, you’re probably fucked either way. It doesn’t matter. You take a deep breath. 

Metal grinds, and the door swings open.

Before you stands a tall, sharp-eyed woman in a uniform. It’s not the typical jumpsuit of the cargo pilots you’ve grown used to seeing. In fact, the top looks like a salvaged Imperial tunic, its collar slackened, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. An insignia you don’t recognize is stitched where the rank badge should be.

Her eyes narrow, pierce right through you and strip you bare as they fall down your figure and back up. Heat pools in your cheeks. 

Who talks first? 

Do you talk first?

“Never did like this port.” The woman finally says, her eyes locking to yours and not leaving. “Full of vermin.”

Somewhere, deep in the stalled gears of your brain, a neuron fires. 

Of fucking course he would.

“It’s not so bad,” you manage to return. “Hard to be scared of a little mouse.” 

The woman gives a slow nod, gaze unbreaking. Then she turns to the side, receiving a handoff from someone you can’t see. Sweat pricks your spine despite the cold. 

She turns back to you and presents a small, sleek box. You stare back dumbly, your brain taking an excruciatingly long moment to produce a reaction. When you finally extend a hand for the item, she snaps it back again.

“Uh. Right.”

What kind of idiots does Boba Fett send to do his business? That surely is what this woman must be thinking as she reaches back and produces a data pad, passing it to you across the threshold. The screen is open to a credit transfer. Hands trembling and cheeks ablaze, you authorize the 50,000 credits and hand it back like it’s about to electrocute you.

For a breathless moment, she scours the screen. And then she whisks the data pad behind her, exchanging it for the box again. Before you can reach for it, she tosses it to you. And by some Force-willed fucking miracle, you don’t completely fumble the catch.

Hands still trembling, you slip the package into your basket, under a piece of the canvas lining and out of sight. 

“Tha–”

The door slams in your face.

Alright.

Alone on the dockway once more, air fills your lungs for what feels like the first time since you set foot in the market this morning. It’s shaky on the exhale, but some of the vibration in your brain quiets with it. You take a moment to turn back to your surroundings, the basket feeling ten pounds heavier on your arm. 

This side of the port is still sparsely populated. A repulsorlift driver pauses to exchange words with two pilots casually chatting a few hangars up from you, then steers back toward the main hub. Your fingers find your cowl, drum the edge of your basket. 

Boba said you’d hear from him. So… what now? Stay here and wait? Leave before someone realizes how painfully out of place you look and questions you? Your eyes scan up and down the row, as if a clue might be hidden amongst the buildings on the far side.

And then you see it. 

It’s so quick, you could almost mistake it for a trick of the morning light—a reflection on the gutters high above the street leaving an imprint in your retinas. But no, what you saw was distinct: a flash of orange and black retreating beyond the edge of the roofline. 

Your eyes narrow, scanning for further movement. Static whispers in your ear.

“Well done, little mouse.”

You blink. Then scoff.

“Yeah, very clever.”

Are you being watched? Fuck, are you actually going crazy? There’s still no sign of movement on the rooftops. 

Maybe it was nothing.

Fett chuckles. “That you were.”

Your eyes roll, finally breaking away from the skyline. An anxious pang spears you again—Dakk will be looking at the accounts any second. 

“You need to make that transaction disappear.” 

“It’s taken care of.” 

You ignore a ripple of heat in your lower belly. Stay focused. 

“Mind at least telling me what I have? And what the hell I need to do with it?”

“I’m sending you coordinates. My associate will meet you there.”

Your heart drops, a stone to cool your insides.

“So your ‘associate’ couldn’t have just… picked this up themselves?” More ice slips into your voice than you intend, but you can’t help it. With everything that’s already happened, the walls of your emotional fortitude are starting to chip.

“There is much you still do not understand. I’m relying on your discretion.”

You swallow against the withering feeling that drapes you. Some things never change. Maybe this is all you’ll ever be–a piece in someone else’s dejarik game, only fit to serve your small purpose and nothing more. 

“Fine,” you clip back. “Send the coordinates.”

There’s a pause on the line, and it cuts off again. Maybe he didn’t expect you to concede so easily. Or maybe he’s finally regretting his decision to assign you this task. With a sharp shake of your head, you refocus on the message blinking to life on your wrist. 

You study the coordinates for a moment, and then set off, back up the hangar row and out onto the street outside the port. The location he sent is familiar to you–in the industrial district, a former Imperial production facility that now sits abandoned. 

As you walk, your mind begins to roil, building up to a seething tide. Crashing, deafening waves of spite and curiosity force your focus back to the weight on your arm. 

You should do what Fett asks. It could be dangerous for you to know what the item is. Deadly, even. You’re swept up in forces now that you can hardly begin to understand, and you know it. But that riptide has already wrenched you from your comfortable shelter, cast you into new depths, and now you have to figure out how to swim. 

And if you’re going to do that, you also have to know what’s lurking in the water.

The moment you make it to a quiet street, you dart behind a corner and meld with shadow. If Fett is bringing you in, then he’s bringing you in. Before you can overthink your decision, you snatch the tiny box from its hidden spot in the lining of your basket and unclasp the fastenings.

Something small and cylindrical lies within, obscured in a swaddle of delicate cloth. Gripping one edge, you roll it out until a tiny cylinder drops into your palm. Your brows draw together. 

All of that, for a little piece of metal? No, a 50,000-credit piece of metal that nearly caused you at least three heart attacks already? 

You huff, roll up the device and shove it back into its box. Fett was right, there is much you don’t understand. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t do anything about that.

New determination fueling your steps, you set off again, this time veering from your course. It’s not like you were given a time limit, or very much information at all, for that matter. Fuck it. Boba Fett isn’t the only one with contacts.

After a short walk, you approach a small droid repair shop just outside the main city center. The sign still hangs a little crooked, but the stoop is meticulously swept. You step up to the door and push it open. 

The same little chime announces your entrance. An Ithorian faces away from you behind the counter, hunched over a workbench. She turns as you step in, and then her tall face lights up. 

She squeals your name and darts around the counter, closing the distance and throwing her arms around you. All at once, the swarm of nerves that has been migrating around your insides all day melts to stillness. A laugh bubbles up and you wrap your arms around her in return.

“Hey, Tau.” You squeeze her tighter. “It’s been way too long.”

“You don’t say!” Her translator collar morphs delighted, guttural grunts into Basic. She pulls back after a few moments, grasps your hands and begins to drag you toward her workbench. “I have so much to show you. K-C2R is almost done, I just need to get a hold of a positronic transisto–hey, is everything okay?”

She snaps back around to face you, gripping you by the shoulders and searching your face. You feel your cheekbone tingle, even though the bruise there has mostly faded.

“It’s been, like, forever since I’ve seen you. With everything going on, I was getting worried something happened.”

An inexplicable lump suddenly rises in your throat. Maker above, you wish you could just tell her everything right now. But you can’t endanger her like that. You clear your throat.

“Tau, I was actually hoping you could help me with something.” You set your basket down on the counter and pull out the box. “I can’t stay long, but I promise I’ll explain everything later.”

You roll the metal cylinder out of its cloth wrapping and hold it out to her. Her inquisitive stare flicks to your open palm, and you could swear she almost short-circuits.

“No kriffing way.” She plucks it from you and inspects it closely, rotating it and checking every tiny crevice with each eye.

You lean forward. 

“What is it?”

Her gaze snaps back to you, and she scampers to the front door to slot the lock into place. 

“Follow me.” 

Tau snatches your hand and whisks you behind her workbench, past the slumped KX-series security droid and through a door to the back room. She shuts it behind you and punches two switches on the wall. The lights flicker on, an entire wall of screens and panels humming to life. 

“This…” She waggles the cylinder in front of your nose, “is a data spike.” She scurries over to a computer station and hops into the chair. “Do you know what’s on it?”

“No idea.” You follow her, taking in the impressive array. “Can you find out?”

“Pfft.” She twirls the spike between her fingers and sticks it into a terminal. “Who do you think I am!”

Grinning, you yank up a chair to sit behind her. Long rows of symbols scroll across the screen. Tau taps a few keys, and the computer responds with a new stream of information. 

You blink. This stuff makes your head spin.

“So where have you been lately, anyway?” Tau scans the rows of jumbled code as she speaks. “You know I go Loth-bat crazy in here with no one to talk to.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You sigh, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes. “Dakk’s had me so busy. You know how he gets.” 

She puffs out a throaty sigh.

“Tell me about it. Gavic pretty much has me running this place on my own lately. He’s been offworld ever since that big shipment got hit. Apparently the bosses went, like, totally ballistic over it. HQ was blowing up our comms for days.” 

Something flashes across the screen. It fritzes into static. Tau pauses with a frown, presses a few buttons, then gives the screen a solid whack. The display stabilizes.

“How is Brondakk taking it?” Her fingers start to fly, clicking staccato rhythms across the keyboard.  “He was overseeing that job, right?”

“Yeah, he was.” Your pulse thumps in your cheekbone. “He… didn’t take it well.” 

She sighs, shooting you a quick, sympathetic look before resuming.

“You know, if he’s being an asshole, you can always come and crash…” She trails off, hands growing still.

You lean forward and search the jumbled symbols, but as always, none of it makes any sense to you. Tau’s eyes go huge.

“Hey where did you say you got this thing again?” 

“Oh, um. Dakk gave it to me, I’m supposed to be delivering it to someone. I just really wanted to know what it was.”

She starts to vibrate.

“This is so insane. I’m pretty sure this thing could hack, like, any communications array in the galaxy and it would be totally untraceable.” She searches the stream of gibberish now flowing across the screen. “I wonder what they’re planning.”

“Me, too.” Your heart picks up rhythm in your chest, nerves retaking flight in a flutter of razored wings. Tau lets out a devious giggle. Her fingers zip across the keys. The computer emits a few trills.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a copy.” She shoots you a wink.

Your jaw drops.

“You can do that?”

“Duh!” She rolls her eyes playfully. “I mean, it won’t be perfect, this encryption is ridiculously complex. But I should be able to preserve most of the functionality in the duplicate.”

Your mind starts to oscillate, excitement and apprehension setting off on a neck-and-neck race. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No,” she gives a rueful laugh. “But I might never get my hands on this kind of tech again. Who knows when it could become handy.” 

“Who knows when it could become trouble.” 

She swivels her chair around to you then, her face growing solemn. Duplicate lines of code continue to split and organize themselves across the screen behind her. 

“Look, I know the risks. But… ” She sighs, an internal battle playing across her long, kind face. “It’s like, if we never risk anything, where will we end up, you know? I can’t accept that I’ll be here forever.” She takes your hand, a plea forming in her eyes. “Haven’t you ever thought about getting out?”

That look eats a hole through your chest, opens it up and nestles itself there. The edges of your careful ward start to crumble, that lump rising back into your throat. 

All this day has done so far is make you feel more alone than ever. And now you’re faced with your only friend, perhaps the one person in the whole galaxy who could ever come close to understanding how you feel. 

And you’re lying to her.

“Tau…” You squeeze her hand in your own, drawing a sharp breath. “I didn’t get this from Dakk. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself wrapped up in, but it’s big.” Her eyes widen. “I can’t say much–”

“Then don’t.” She plucks the spike from the terminal and presses it back into your palm, her eyes brimming with hope. It nearly shatters your heart. “I get it. Look, whatever it is, just know I’m on your side. I want to help.”

Warmth blooms through you, a sensation that almost bursts you from within. You pull her into a hug.

“Thank you.” 

She squeezes you, giving your back a few quick rubs. As hard as you’ve been trying to fight them, tears finally spill. You wipe your eyes, recomposing yourself. 

“I really need to get going.”

“Go!” Tau jumps up and pulls you back into the main shop. “Just be safe, and promise you’ll keep me updated.”

You nod, and just as you’re about to exit, realization hits you like a speeder.

“Oh! That reminds me.” You pull your sleeve up to reveal your commlink. “Got the one you told me about.”

Tau makes a delighted noise.

“Fuck yeah, finally!” She raises her wrist to yours, and both commlinks beep. She puts her hands on your shoulders, beaming at you one final time.

“Okay, get out of here. Don’t meet any handsome strangers without me.” She ushers you out the door. “And call me later, you bitch.”

“I promise!” You both erupt into giggles, and she shuts the door. 

Satisfied and re-energized, you set off.

The rest of the walk to the industrial district goes without incident. You know these streets well enough to shave a few minutes off the walk–and you do, hoping to cover for your detour.

When you reach Fett’s coordinates, you’re unsurprised to find yourself alone. Sighing, you find an old crate against the wall of the building and hop up to sit on it. You scan up and down the alley, thumping your heels against the weather-worn metal. 

Nothing.

Until a feminine voice emanates from the walls themselves, wrapping you in a noose of dark silk. 

“You’re late.”

A chill settles on the back of your neck. You shrug it away.

“Yeah, well, no one exactly bothered to provide me a time frame,” you say to the empty street, standing back up.

Two feet hit the ground behind you. You whirl.

A small woman stands before you, clad in an angular black tunic with orange detailing. Dark eyes pin you from behind the slitted visor of a helmet, and you have to swallow a pang of realization. The top half of her helmet is painted vivid orange, and from beneath it, a long black braid drapes over one shoulder.

That was no trick of the light earlier. Your heart picks up pace again.

She extends one petite, gloved hand toward you, palm up. You hand over the box and she wrests it open, unspooling the data spike from its silken swaddle. 

Seriously? What’s the point of assigning you this stupid errand if they can’t even trust you to follow through? 

Your stare is stony when the woman’s eyes find yours again. Her own expression is unreadable under the helmet, but she rolls the spike back up and straps it to a holster on her belt. Without another word, she leaps, catches a pipe on the wall and swings up onto the roof, out of sight.

“Talkative bunch,” you mutter to yourself, swathed once again in the solitude of peeling duracrete walls.

Kicking a stone down the street, you start to head back the way you came. There’s no use dwelling on whatever the fuck this day has become. You suppose that if Boba Fett decides to find another use for you, you’ll know about it. 

All he has to do is attach another set of strings and make you dance. 

You kick another stone, harder this time. It clatters and echoes along the deserted alleyway. 

Whatever. You already mourned your agency a long time ago. This shit is nothing new.

In the meantime, you still have groceries to gather. 

And a promise to keep.

[thefamilyeldritchabomination]

Chapter Nineteen: Scarborough Fair Pt. 3

With a foolhardy grin on his face, Greed made his way back into the cabin bag in hand as he barged in to see an angry Edward, a concerned Alphonse, and a very flustered Lust. The plan discussion had clearly not gone as it was intended to as Edward got up and made his way out the door to take a breather with Alphonse following closely behind. Greed remained silent as he let the Elric brothers have some time to themselves as he glanced over to Lust who was collecting herself once more. Carefully, Greed let himself back into the cabin and placed the massive bag of red stones as well as the ransom letter in front of Lust. Lust, having had a hard time with the Elrics, lightened up a little bit upon seeing that her need for red stones had been successfully met by Greed. As she went to check on the red stones, the ransom letter came into view as well, Lust not really thrilled that it came with a letter. There was a silent pause between Greed and Lust as she carefully opened up the letter to read the damned thing over before breaking out into a laughing fit over it. 

 “Is Dante kidding me right now? Really? After all the lies she fed us about making us human, she has the nerve to lie about freeing Envy after trading Dolly off to her with Timmy. She truly has a rotted brain problem.” Lust started to catch her breath after reading such a ridiculous letter with an equally ridiculous set of demands. “I know, right? Even Sloth was getting pissed when I saw her at the tavern.” Greed couldn’t help but agree after reading the contents of the letter with Lust. “You saw Sloth here?” Lust’s voice shifted from a tone of humor to one of concern upon learning Sloth was here.

 “I did, though I don’t think we should be all too worried about her. Sloth was more or less on her own solo betraying Dante with whatever plan that nightmare of a homunculus has in mind.” Greed reassured Lust, though he did shutter a bit at recalling how Sloth explained why she wouldn’t join the resistance.

 “That sounds about right with Sloth, she was more of a silent killer than any of us combined.” Lust sighed a bit after hearing that, relieved that Sloth’s homicidal rage was directed towards Dante now rather than them. 

 “Now, what do we do about the ransom letter?” Greed asked as he redirected the conversation towards the letter. “I think once we have Envy here safely with us, I suppose we could consider making a plan with this one.” Lust glanced at the letter one last time before placing it aside for the time being.

 “That sounds good to me, now I have some good news. I’ve managed to procure some corpses that’ll be delivered here in a few hours. My proprietor will even have the corpses cut up like you would at a butcher shop for easy storage in the freezer or fridge. Gluttony should be good with that for the time being.” Greed said, smiling at the excellent job he has done with such a difficult order.

 “I’d kiss you if you weren’t such a repulsive asshole, thank you for getting Gluttony his meal for the next few days.” Lust was relieved that the food was acquired for Gluttony as Greed’s face deepened into a frown at being called ‘repulsive’.

 “Well aren’t you just a pleasure to work with. By the way, what happened with the Elrics?” Greed asked, wanting to get back a little at Lust.

 “Let’s just say I am very certain the Elrics and Envy are related, they’re all stubborn as I can get out of it. Edward definitely wants to locate Envy at once rather than wait, citing he doesn’t want any more people to die like this. I am strongly considering having Hughes going out and having a chat with them.” Lust heaved a mighty sigh at the trouble the Elrics were bringing into this, then again, both Elrics were still children and very impulsive ones at that.

 “It seriously can’t be helped, those two haven’t seen Envy like this before, so I’m guessing they’re thinking it’d be like the usual encounters they’ve had before. It’s probably for the best that you do have Hughes have a nice heart to heart with the Elrics, hopefully the Elrics will understand.” Greed couldn’t help but feel sorry for Lust as he too had to wrangle his chimeras from time to time before the touching moment was interrupted by the slamming of the back door.

 “Guys! Guys! Holy fuck, did you know that there’s a murder shed in the backyard!?” Freddy suddenly appeared from the outdoors after having to hide from Ernest and Dorian.

 “....We’re definitely going to have to lure the police into that shed now with Gluttony inside.” Greed smirked a bit at Lust as the murder shed was mentioned.

 “Goddamn it…” Was all Lust could say as she went outside to look at the supposed murder shed in the backyard.

 Sure enough, as Freddy had described, there was in fact a ramshackled shed out in the backyard that had clearly seen some awful things in its years. There were some questionable brownish red stains splashed against the aging wood and a suspicious dead fish smell that emanated from inside. Lust couldn’t help but wonder if the entire Mancer Family that Dolly came from were attracted to homicide scenes by pure nature. It was such a disgusting little wood construct, Lust wouldn’t even dare make Gluttony dine in such a terrible place. Gluttony, on the other hand, decided to investigate the questionable shed of possible ill reputation. The door to the shed fell right off after a gentle nudge from Gluttony to reveal that the shed had been in fact one for cleaning up wild game after a hunt, old skulls, long decayed organic wastes, and most importantly, weapons, a lot of weapons. There was a bit of relief from both Lust and Fredd that the shed hadn’t been used for murder, though it was still rather disgusting inside. The only one not completely disgusted by what was inside of the shed was good ol’ Greed as he carefully eyed the weapons on the wall.

 “These might come in handy.” Greed hummed to himself as he eyed an elephant rifle in the weapons collection.

 “....Are you thinking of selling these off in the black market?” Lust was annoyed at Greed, reasonably believing he was back to wanting to make more money once more. “Nah, guns like these are a dime a dozen down there, not a lot of profit to be made from it. No, I’m more or less thinking if the time thing is still an issue for the Elrics, we should consider using these as a deterrent.” Greed explained his idea as he checked carefully for ammunition for the elephant rifle. 

 “Oh right, yeah let’s totally shoot the angry gremlin dragon, it sure won’t make them angry or anything….fuck does Envy rage eats when pissed off enough?” Freddy sarcastically said before freaking out at the possibility of Envy eating him even more now out of anger.

 “Quit your squeaking little mouse, the adults are speaking to one another. Greed, as much as Envy likes to test my patiences at times, I don’t think I’m alright with shooting them with a gun…” Lust had to break up the Freddy drama before turning her attention back on Greed who finished collecting everything needed for that rifle. 

 “They shouldn’t even feel a thing, it’d be more of an annoyance like having small pebbles hitting their hind. What do you say, Lust? We can do it now and get Envy back here sooner without having to wait on Dolly to recover.” Greed reasoned, especially since Envy was at the moment a massive serpentine dragon from hell. 

 “We’ll hold a vote then, I’m not happy about this, but if that’s the choice we have right now, then so be it.” Lust relented as she looked ready to deal with the future bitching fit from Envy once they’ve recovered.

 “That’s fair, just expect Edward to be fully on board with doing it right now.” Greed warned since Edward may very well be pro on shooting Envy for all the grievances they’ve done in the past towards him and Alphonse.

 “Oh trust me, I will, I obviously will.” Lust was grinding her teeth a bit at that little reminder.

 “Don’t say a thing, I’ll get the others, but promise me, if we do this now, shoot Envy in the eyes for me. That’ll be my only request at this point.” Freddy said dejectedly as he went about rounding up the Elrics and Hughes, knowing well his days on earth were numbered.

 With everything said and done around the ramshackled shed of clearly awful origins, the group gathered back together to have a new discussion. The elephant rifle sat ominously on the table for everyone to see including Dolly who was concerned with such an awful thing nearby. It was also very evident with Winry that like Dolly, she wasn’t very thrilled with the direction this was going when Lust opened up the option. The table was hushed as the plan of going now to look for Envy, using the rifle as a time buying item should Envy get too close to the hearse. There were murmurs amongst the unlikely group for rescue Envy the Jackass team as they processed what was brought before them. Lust kept an eye on the entire reaction from the group as Edward, oh Edward, opened his mouth.

[anikasenkujo]

happy birthday Anika my love 🎂🎉🎉 /affectionately

for the birthday prompts 21 and 15 💖💖

@angelminci

eeeee thank you so much biancoooo!! I’m so sorry this took a while, this was supposed to be a fluffy drabble but I ended up writing quite a lot help 💖💖

anika’s birthday special

birthday prompts

21 - “What did you wish for?”

15 - “At the end of the day this birthday was pretty amazing,”

Pairing: Anika x Jotaro

TW: Usage of pet name (shona which means beloved in Bengali), possible mention of "what if something happened to either of us, other than that, nothing really.

“At the end of the day this birthday was pretty amazing,” Anika smiled while preparing two cups of matcha tea for Jotaro and herself in the kitchen so as to take them to the living room where her husband was sitting. “Agreed,” He responded while reading his journal where he had recorded his latest findings from his workplace, “I’m honestly surprised that you didn't organize a bigger party, like I thought you would.”

She walked towards him, handed him the cup of tea, heard him say thank you, nodded and responded, “Well, this is the year we got married, for which we already had a huge gathering. I didn't feel it was necessary to invite everyone, so we only had...” He continued her sentence like as if he was reading out a guest list , “Karan, Shinobu, Hayato-kun, Josuke, Koichi-kun, Rohan…”

She chuckled while sitting down next to him, “Okay, okay, I get it. There were still a lot of people. But, I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. I know it must have been overwhelming for you...” He sighed as he put his journal down, “It definitely was, not going to lie, but... seeing you happy, and ecstatic about things like birthdays,” then a small smile crept up on his face, “was definitely worth bearing all of the other guests. I am glad they’re gone though, because I have a surprise.” She furrowed her eyebrows and responded, “Oh, really?”

A wicked smile appeared on his face as he stopped time, yet again, and as time resumed,  she saw the coffee table and on top of it, was a mini strawberry cake, that looked a little bit messy, with a lit candle. She asked, surprised, “Did you.. did you bake this?” He nodded in agreement, “Sometime before the party, but kept it well hidden. I was hoping for us to have it. Just us.”

She chuckled and felt flustered, and was touched by his gesture, “Thank you, shona.” As she closed her eyes, she made a small wish, and blew the candle. She cut the cake, and they fed each other, causing her to taste the fluffiness of the cake. He had improved a lot in terms of cooking, according to her, so this made her day.

“What did you wish for?” Jotaro asked, smiling, while sitting beside her on the couch in their house in Morioh. “Hmm,” Anika paused before responding with a sly grin, “I wish your cake tastes edible, which it does.” He furrowed his eyebrows while she chuckled and remarked, “Oh, silly, I can’t tell you what I wished for; it will not come true.”

He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her onto his lap, “Oh but you can, can't you?” It was his turn to smirk, “After all, we're married.” She squealed and giggled as she sat on his lap, responding, “Oh, really? That’s precisely why I can’t tell you what I wished for, ‘cause it’s for us... ”

With his hands on her waist, her arms around his shoulders, and their gazes locked, she sighed, and answered, “fine, I wished that we would never be apart ever again.”

As Jotaro looked confused, Anika explained, “I don’t mean clinging to each other or anything.” She softly chuckled, sighed, and continued, “For a decade, we were separated by circumstances, but now that we are married, I would never want us to be separated again.”

Jotaro put a stray lock of hair behind Anika’s ear and responded calmly. “But what if any of us—” she interrupted, “Dr. Kujo, don't say that.” He tilted his head, signifying that it could happen. “I would not like to think about that now, shona, because right now, in this moment, you and I are alive, married, and happy. Can we cherish that at least?”

He nods in agreement, puts his hand behind her head, and pulls her forward for a deep kiss. As they release themselves, he looks at her softly and says, “Happy birthday, Ani-chan.” She blushes at hearing him call her by her daak naam (nickname in Bengali). She would love to treasure this moment for days to come and not have it any other way.

© Shyna 2022

Tagging: @magthemage @mapesandoval @jellyluchi @amberswords @theschneckenhouse @spookysinner45 @weeb-coffee @wishful-bear @shaylistic @ofallthingswhythis @strawberrystepmom

[amiah425]

A low growl and vibration in Hitoshi's stomach woke him up from his slumber. He groaned quietly and curled into himself more to preserve the warmth trying to fall back asleep.

His stomach protested and cramped oddly with the movement that made it nauseous and the faint smell of cigarette smoke didn’t help. He sighed when he sat up slowly then flopped back down, wishing he could just rest a bit more, but he knew he needed to find food eventually.

He hasn't been fed in five days and it was really starting to bother him. He had gone off without nourishment for longer than that, but this time it didn’t seem like he would be able to last any longer.

He shifted from his place on the hardwood floor, facing the bed beside him, an arm hung over the edge and soft snores could be heard from the other child. Eicho. He recalled the other's name dully.

Though he thought it was selfish and ungrateful, he wished he was allowed on the bed with a soft cushion cradling his body and warm blankets surrounding him. But, he knew that wish would never come true. He was a villain child after all, he doesn’t deserve it. No villain does. He was always told that, why would people lie to him about it? He lay there for a while, too weak to motivate himself to get up. No one was calling him or complaining, he should be fine.

“Boy! Come down here!”

Jinx. The small boy groaned but made sure it wasn’t too audible. She was calling him, the tone was unmistakable. He was about to shout back and say he was coming but he stopped himself, he would get in trouble for yelling and talking. He ran down the stairs, his bare feet hardly making a sound on the wood floors which was a habit he had picked up years ago. He maneuvered his way around beer bottles and cigarette studs, the smell of them getting stronger. The two foster parents had broken the fire alarm though so they could smoke in the house with no worries.                                                     

When he got to the small kitchen, he was met with a scowl on the woman’s face.

“Finally! What took you so long? Do you know that today is a busy one for me? Are you trying to mess it up?” Taylor, one of the foster parents, bombarded him with questions.

The smoke from the cigarette in her mouth puffed in his face tickling his nose with the strong smell. He didn’t dare scrunch his nose though, for fear of angering her more. The answer he could give was shaking his head ‘no' in response to her questions. He really didn’t take that long.

“Well? Why did you take so long, huh?” Hitoshi’s shoulders hunched and he just wanted to fade away right then. He knew this was a trap to get him to talk, he would get in bigger trouble if he did.

“Don’t ignore me!” Taylor growled, slapping the boy on the head surprisingly light in comparison to what he was used to. Hitoshi just shook his head, feeling the frustration build up in his gut.

“Ugh! Useless piece of shit- just do the dishes. Eicho cut his finger last night and Ray needed time to herself so neither of them could do them. I don’t know where you were though. When you're done, get going on cleaning the house, I’m having guests tonight and, it better be done right. Lazy brat-.“ The young woman mumbled and grabbed a beer from the fridge, then disappeared into the living room. The TV was turned on to a show Hitoshi had seen a few times briefly, but he didn’t really care.

“I was searching for scraps at the neighbor’s house. Not that you need to know.” He turned to the heaps of dishes he had to wash and stifled a tired sigh. Guess this isn’t the worst morning he’s had. He should be grateful.

 ~Time skip~

  “Hey, is the food ready yet? I’m hungry!” Ray, the oldest foster child 2 years older than him whined, her long brown hair brushed against his cheek as she leaned into his personal space. Hitoshi leaned away and stirred the food he was cooking one more time before hopping off the stool and speed walking over to the cupboard where the dishes were to set the table. 

His growth spurts had been lacking since he was eight and even then he was kinda small. He figured it was probably because he didn’t eat enough. Not his fault. He nodded tiredly, setting the table as best he could. His stomach rumbled constantly from the smell of the food he made. He only had a few tastes to make sure it was seasoned right.

He had forgotten to set some food aside secretly, so he would have to wait and see if he was allowed to eat with the others or not. He hoped so. Hitoshi’s hopes sunk when he heard the front door open. Chisuke, Taylor’s husband, came home from work. There was no way he would be allowed at the table now. The boy's shoulders slumped as he placed the food on the table, he waved over to Ray telling her the food was ready to eat. She thankfully got the hint and began to call everyone to the table. She was rude at times, but she could be kind when she felt slight pity for him.

“The food is ready! Welcome home!” she greeted man walking into the room. He huffed, a smile appearing on his face only for it to turn into a glare when he saw Hitoshi.

“What are you still doing here?” Hitoshi flinched, lowering his gaze to his toes. He knew this was going to happen, the entire family hated him. He didn’t blame them.

“Oh.” Taylor eyed the boy with annoyance. “Get out boy, we don’t need you right now. Our guests should be here soon and they don’t want to see a villain in the house. Be back by ten p.m.” She waved her hand in a shooing motion.

Hitoshi lifted his head quickly to look at her, his eyes filled with panic. It was somewhere around 6 o'clock! Why were they sending him out so early? Could he take some food with him? He turned slightly to the stove motioning to it carefully.

“She said get out!” Chisuke stepped up and grabbed Hitoshi's arm, harshly yanking him to the door.                                                                                            The boy yelped when he felt his arm that was being pulled jostle. His shoulder and temple hit the door frame while he was roughly shoved out of the house. He caught himself before he fell on his face and jumped when he heard the door slam behind him. Hitoshi’s eyes pricked with tears of frustration before he blinked them away. He was so hungry! What was he supposed to eat?! The dumpsters in the alleys didn’t seem very appealing, but he was beginning to get desperate. For now though, he'd rather starve.

“Not like I haven’t done it before. Just suck it up.” He sighed for the umpteenth time that day, running down the rugged streets and run-down houses. His home was located in a small town between Musutafu city and another town nearby. Outside his town was a forest preserve where Hitoshi often ventured off to.

      When he got to the edge of the preserve, he crossed the road and slid down the steep slope that led to a more flat clearing, hidden by the bushes and leaves. Hitoshi huffed when he stepped on a sharp stone as he picked his way towards a river he always went to, brushing off the pain.                                                The lavender haired boy rushed to the river, a small smile spreading on his face. Finally, the solitude and fresh air is his for a while. A few hours at least. This thought made his shoulders slump and eyes dull. Sure, he’d rather be here than at the house full of smoke, beer bottles, and yelling, but his belly wasn’t relenting with it's growls and groans.

“I could fill up with water.. that sometimes helps.” Hitoshi walked along a faint path, that looked like it hasn’t been walked on in years, that lead to a more hidden and quiet area.

  The rocks and pebbles where smoother here and easier to walk on with his bare feet, the skin underneath had toughened so sharp things couldn’t harm the pads of his feet much, but it still would cause him pain. He hopped up on a large rock that he loved to sunbathe on, the rays of light felt like a warm blanket on his body. The aching bruises that were appearing on his body from being forced out of the house pulsed with slight relief. He hummed happily before kneeling down and dipping his hands in the cool rushing water. He splashed a few times playfully, most of water landed in his hair causing the fluffy tufts began be weighed down and turned into curls that reached his shoulders. It was rare that he got these hours of pure freedom, even though it was sometimes miserable. Since he wasn’t able to go home until late evening, he had all the time he needed to himself.

Hitoshi looked down into the water and turned up his lip at his reflection. His temple had a large nasty bruise that came close to reaching his eyebrow as it trailed down to his cheekbone. It looked a lot worse than it felt, he frowned at the ugly sight.                   

Everyone told him he was ugly and plain, this would just add to it. The boy shrugged, dipping his hands in the water again and brought it up to his lips. He was able to take in a few swallows when he stopped suddenly. His body froze when he heard slow, rhythmic thumps coming his way, he could hear a merry whistle adding to the noise. The half dried leaves that crunched told him that whoever was coming was definitely a human.

He scrambled up and was about to jump up the small slope near the river to run into the bushes, but he was too slow. His eyes locked on a tall figure. A man he believed. He had long blonde hair that was tied into a half-bun and piercing green eyes. He had a short-sleeved black shirt that had 'Rock-n-roll' printed on it and orange glasses that hung on the collar. He had a red sweater tied around his waist and jeans.

“What a strange combination.” Hitoshi had only seen a person dress with so many styles a few times in his life, so this man was certainly something interesting to stare at. He tensed when the whistling stopped and the man along with it. Hitoshi's eyes met the man's orbs, he sucked in a breath. He looked familiar, where had he seen him before?                              An audible gasp brought Hitoshi back to the present, he waited for the man to start cursing him out or throw rocks at him for being a villain child. That, or the man ignoring him all together. What he wasn’t expecting was the stranger to start walking directly to his direction and walking off the path.

“Hey kid. You lost? Why are you here alone?” The man’s voice was smooth almost melodic, but he couldn’t think to long on that right now.

“He’s come to kill me. I heard a few thugs talking about it the other day, they didn’t want me around. Why else would this guy be here?! He’s probably not gonna pull out a weapon ‘til last minute.. that's what the others did.” The boy stepped back and whipped around to run, but he was trapped between a large fallen tree on the bank on his left and large sharp boulders bigger than himself to his right. The only route he could actually take wad to go across the river, but there weren’t any stones to hop on and the current was too strong. It would surely pull him under.

Hitoshi’s breath picked up when he turned to face the man again. A snarl ripped from his throat as a warning when he bent down to pick up a stick near his feet. He wished he learned to speak properly, he never really felt the need to speak, even after his quirk came, he was mute since he was a child. Now, he wasn’t allowed to speak and his vocal cords were not used to the sounds it needed to make words. And if he did manage to say something, it would be slow and choppy.

“I need to get out of here. What does this dude want!?” The boy's eyes scanned everything in front of him, looking for an exit. He pick up a rock and threw it at the blonde, not hitting him but close enough.

“Hey! Don’t throw stuff at me! Why're you doin' that?” The strange man set a small lunch box on the ground, something Hitoshi didn’t notice. He eyed the box before looking back at the man.

“Why can’t he take a hint?!” Hitoshi backed up a few steps, he could feel his feet begin to get too close to the water. He couldn’t stop the small whine that escaped his throat.

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt ya.” The man held his hands up, slowly inching forward. He was about 3 meters away from Hitoshi, close enough for him to see the strange light green swirls in his eyes.

“Don't believe him! There’s a small cave on the other side of the river. Jump over it.” Hitoshi’s mind nagged, his eyes darted from looking at the water and the man.

“Kid-?”

He decided to take a chance. He ran forward towards the blonde, startling him and making him back up. He got as close as he dared and sharply turned to face the river and sped to the edge as fast as he could jumping when he was about to run into the water.

He landed swiftly with a light ‘thump’, and scrambled up the rocky slope that led to a small cave that could only fit a small person in.

“Hey, wait! Where you goin'? Come back please!” The man reached out as he was jumping but was too far away to catch him. Hitoshi squeezed through a small opening in the cave, and couched down so he could keep an eye on the man but also keep out of sight.

“Hello? Please come back.” The voice pleaded, the young boy could feel his eyes search for him.

“So you can kill me? Haha, noo thank you.”

After a long pause he could hear some footsteps begin to walk away and fade into the distance.

“He’s leaving..” Hitoshi peeked out and saw the blonde slowly walking out of sight, his frame getting smaller the farther he walked down the path.               

 When he fully disappeared, his heart began to slow back it’s normal heartbeat, he wouldn't be dying today he supposed. He carefully crawled out of his hiding spot and walked down the river to the small stone crossing that couldn’t be seen on the other side of the fallen tree. The boy climbed up the slope and hopped up to the path. He looked over to where the left and then where he came. His eyes widened when he saw the lunch box still sitting in the same spot the man placed it.

“Did he forget it?” The young boy approached the box with interest, a mouth watering scent wafted to his nose that made his stomach rumble.

“Whatever it is, it’s mine now.” Hitoshi greedily snatched the box up and plopped down on his sunbathing rock. He opened the box carefully to reveal a small western style lunch.

“This looks amazing! If this is poisoned I’d gladly die this way!” He quickly dug in, not caring that he had dirty fingers, he was too hungry to care. Most of the food he had never eaten before, but it was the best he had tasted in literal years.

When he was done licking the remaining food on his fingers and neatly packed the empty lunch box again, placing it back where the blonde left it. Even though the amount of food would normally be considered a snack, it felt like a thanksgiving feast to him.

He sighed happily, flopping down with his hands cradling his head as he soaked in the sun’s heat. Soon, with a full belly and the calm sounds of nature surrounding him and the river running near his feet, he closed his eyes just to take a little nap. 

The nap was longer than Hitoshi had originally planned, though he knew it wasn’t time to go home yet. Maybe another hour or so. But that wasn’t what he was thinking about right now, he was more focused on what had woken him up from his peaceful sleep. He could've sworn he heard a few crackles of the leaves and snaps of twigs nearby. He could feel eyes on his frozen form, he was on his knees looking around the forest and bushes.                      The sun was beginning to set which made it harder to see. He shakily grabbed a rock bigger than his fist and raised above his head, ready to throw it at any moment. He let out a pitched grunt, letting whoever was our there know he knew they were around and waited for an answer. He heard another snap of a twig to his right, where the blonde had disappeared.

“Did he come back? Will he be mad about the food?"

The boy crouched down and huddled near a bunch closest to the river in hopes whoever it was didn't have a hearing of or sight quirk. 

"Hello? Come out where I can see you!" A low voice demanded, directed to his hiding spot. 

"Shit, he noticed me." He shrank back deeper into the bush, biting his lower lip with worry. "I can't let him find me. Why are so many people walking down here today?!"

"I said come out! I'm a licensed pro-hero. I will not hesitate to fight and report you!." 

The boy's eyes widened with fear. "Pro-hero?! Here, and now of all times?! I'm gonna die this way. That, or I'll get reported and be in big trouble. If he is local he'd know what my quirk is! I should probably come out, I don't want to make this worse for myself than it already is."  Hitoshi slowly crept out of the bushes, he had his hands up to his waist showing he wasn't holding anything. His eyes were downcast, listening to the running water to calm his slowly growing stress. 

There was a long pause between the man and Hitoshi. The silence was broken by the pro-hero asking a question. 

"Who are you?" 

The lavender haired boy didn't look up. He almost didn't hear the man's question. He just wanted to leave and go back to the house. He body shook and he felt tears form in his eyes, he felt too scared to even move. His mind continued to form different outcomes of this situation. All of them negative. 

"What if Taylor hears about this? She will tell Chisuke and they'll both beat me for causing trouble! I need to get out, now!" Hitoshi raised his gaze to meet the man's, if he had water in his mouth, he would surely choke. 

Erasurehead.

"FUCK!" Hitoshi twisted around and ran down the path toward the other side of the large preserve, opposite of his town.

"Wait- where are you going?" He could hear the light thump of footsteps trailing after him. Hitoshi sped up if it was possible, his legs a lower back began to tingle and his lungs ached. 

"Get out! Get out! Get out! Turn to the side, hide!"  Hitoshi jumped over a few bushes and zig-zagged occasionally, the dark shadows helping him disappear momentarily. He couldn't hear the footsteps anymore but he saw the capture scarf the hero was wearing, he knew he had to be up in the trees, following him silently.  

"You do realize it's against the law to run from the law, right?" Erasurehead called out from above, making Hitoshi slip and almost fall with the sudden voice. 

"Don't care. I'm not going to get caught so it won't matter! Just run faster Hitoshi, don't let him get close." The boy quickly recovered from his blunder and went behind a large tree. He covered his mouth to try and middle his wheezing pants, his heart was beating in his ears loudly.                                      He watched carefully when he caught sight of the pro-hero swinging from tree to tree. He held his breath when the man perched on a tree limb a few trees ahead and looked around calmly. His long raven hair fell around his face as a small breeze brushed by. 

A few agonizing minutes went by before he got up from his spot and started to swing by his scarf once again towards the town Hitoshi was running to. The boy watched him disappear into the darkness and let out a breath. 

"That was close. Too close. I should be more careful from now on. Speaking of being careful.." Hitoshi looked up to the sky, and saw that it was almost pitch black. 

"I should be going to the house soon." He tiredly walked back to the river, the adrenaline rush was fading. He had run a lot farther than he expected. When he climbed up the steep hill to the quiet road, he looked down the other side of it, wondering if Erasurehead was still looking for him. 

He shrugged his shoulders and walked down to the village to the house. He quietly slipped in through the back door, and tip-toed up the stairs. He crept into the room he shared with Eicho and curled up on the cold hard floor. He winced when all the strain in his back near his spine shot with pain and he tensed before fully relaxing. 

He was about to fall asleep when he felt something brush up against him. He jumped and opened his eyes to see Eicho leaning over the edge of the bed, his black hair and soft brown eyes were barely visible. He had a thin blanket in hand, hanging it over Hitoshi's body hesitantly. 

"U-um, Taylor and Chisuke were mad when you didn't come home on time. Better sleep as much as you can 'coz tomorrow they're gonna be harsh." Hitoshi could hear the sadness in his tone. "I borrowed some books from the school if you are up to looking at them tomorrow. I-I got you one that taught JSL too. Hope you'll like them."

The lavender haired boy nodded with a small smile on his face, reaching up and giving a feather light to Eicho's cheek as a 'thank you' when the blanket rested on him. 

"Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." Hitoshi turned when the other boy did. He was about to drift to sleep when one last thought came to mind. 

"I actually ran from my idol hero. Haha, what a day." The he fell asleep with a full belly and a warm blanket. 

 Hello hello! I hope you enjoyed this chapter so far!

Feel free to comment your thoughts of this below. Let me know if you want me to write more on this by leaving a heart or comment that as well. 🙂

Thanks for reading and have a good day/evening!!!😊

[angelsaxis]

I don't care how many previous Democratic presidents have had a Republican in their cabinet because that's not the point that either I or the quote-tweeter are making.

Harris and her campaign have repeatedly talked about the dangers of P25 and the dangers of the Republican party and to my knowledge don't make this distinction between Maga and (presumably less bad?) Republicans that liberals keep insisting on.

(why lie and act like there's even that much of a difference between a MAGA and a Republican? They both have Trump/Vance signs on their lawns. They both hate everything the Democrats allegedly stand for)

I don't want a Republic in charge of national policy in any way, shape, or form. The entire Republican party is acting against my interests as a Black queer person. People would be less upset if Harris actually worked to court the vote of the liberals and leftists she keeps condescending, ignoring, or sneering at instead of fighting for the votes and support of the Republican party/a handful of voting Republicans.

So what if it's normal. That means I should accept it? Why would I vote Democrat if a Republican is going to end up in with power anyways? How long do I/we have to keep acting like Democrats reaching across the aisle while Republicans keep moving the pews back or acting in dirty underhanded ways is at all a good political strategy? I've been seeing this bullshit since I was in middle school. Democrats try to, want to, have to compromise. Compromise compromise compromise. And Republicans never make an effort to do the same. She could paint the whole damn oval office red and Republicans will still call her a dirty communist even WHEN she's to the right of Trump on something like immigration so I don't frankly see the point in going belly up for political enemies when she could just suck it up and actually promise to do things that people want.

Like sorry there's this thing that liberals do where any time someone makes a valid and justifiable complaint about a democratic nominee they act like that person has 0 understanding of the political process and that anyone who complains or has valid fears or grievances just Doesn't Get the 4D chess the nominee is playing.

YEARS of this compromising strategy and where are we? COVID killing thousands every month, disabled people abandoned, rights of queer people still in the toilet and the violence against us on the rise, police brutality and money to police on the rise, NO single payer healthcare (she removed that from her campaign!!), increased money to foreign aid and the military budget and increased support for the colonial violence of Israel while people here literally die in the streets and/or die homeless and/or die because of easily preventable diseases and/or die because they're simply too poor. We can't get minimum wage up to 15 an hour. Unions are striking left and right with mixed success. Again, billions to Israel. Again, nothing like free day care or preschool. Biden and Kamala have probably done some passably good things but all the ways this place has gone to shit completely overshadows any of their progress. We don't have Roe anymore and besides yelling at us to give them money and vote for them I don't see a coherent strategy from Democrats. Grocery prices are through the fucking roof and what'll help it is not destroying the environment (she supports fracking last I checked) and actually supporting workers rights (haven't seen anything about fed min wage from Dems in a minute).

Denying the fascist tones of the Democratic party and acting like it's just the Republicans is rich. Again, genocide happening with full support from every aspect of the US government. Again, support for policing. They were just putting down student protesters and violating their free speech rights up and down the Ivy Leagues. Also if the Republican party is the evil fascist overlord party why the Fuck would you justify her trying to add a fascist to her cabinet? What progressivism is she gonna successfully put through when, by your own admission, the "full fascist" party is gonna be in control of something major?

Her entire fucking campaign has just been "haha we're not Republicans I'm not trump" it's half assed it's lazy she's not talking about the things people want to talk about and care about. She can go Fuck herself.

[spacegoldilocks]

The Gods Demand a Queen

Bjorn Ironside x F!Reader

Summary: You're a thrall in Kattegat, under the rule of Bjorn, who desires to one day be Queen and sit on the throne. He helps you realise these dreams, in more ways than one.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, smut, rough sex, throne sex, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, bit of choking, bit of spanking, size kink, praise, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 8.5k

The Gods have never favoured you.

You’ve been at someone else’s will for as long as you can remember. Not all of them have been nice. It’s toughened you up, though. You’ve learnt your place and your manners. You’ve learnt when is the correct time to speak, and definitely when isn’t the correct time.

You’ve been in Kattegat, under the mercy of Bjorn Ironside, for a few months now. He’s fair. You mostly stay in the shadows and out of his way. He’s not even here most of the time, anyway. You can’t really complain about your time here, even though you dream of a different life.

You dream of sitting high on a throne somewhere. Anywhere. Not having anyone to answer to. Your own thralls and slaves to do with as you please. A thousand people who call you their Queen, who sit around you, showering you with compliments and gifts. Sacrifices in your own name. A crown upon your head and your face smeared with colours that tell everyone that you are the Queen.

Alas, dreams are dreams. And you don’t dare defy the authority that lingers over you. The fate that awaits your disobedience and failure to capture the power you so desperately crave is worse than simply maintaining your fantasy. You listen attentively to the every need of the family in charge. Most notably, Bjorn.

He’s away more often than he’s here. In those moments, the throne lays empty. Practically begging to be used. At present, no queen resides in Kattegat and you long for the feeling of the throne beneath you. It calls to you like no other.

It’s more than a feeling that tells you that you belong on the throne. You feel as though the Gods have a plan for you. They keep you waiting, so you can ready yourself for when the times comes. It is a question of when not if. The Gods demand a queen for Kattegat, you can hear them.

You say Bjorn is away more than he’s here, yet today is one of the rare times he’s here and he’s active. A room full of people and many duties to attend to. Which also means you’ve been on your feet all day. With Bjorn home and his being busy, you’ve had no end of tasks to complete and requests to indulge.

It started this morning when he and his men arrived on the shores of Kattegat. You having to draw baths and prepare a feast, wash clothing and all the while do it quickly to keep time for any other jobs that might need doing. This included waiting on their every need as they enjoyed festivities for returning safely from their travels.

And so, the throne has been occupied. The only time Bjorn left his seat was to eat with his men, and he quickly returned to it when he was finished. You’d been watching him since he returned. The way he sits, spreading across the chair. Arms thrown over the sides, legs parted, head resting against the back as he looks down at everyone else.

Despite everything you feel, there’s no denying that power suits him. He makes a good king. He is fair and strong and courageous. And he is a son of Ragnar. He speaks with a loud, commanding voice when he addresses his people, thanking them for their bravery and telling them that they live to face more battles before walking the halls of Valhalla.

You won’t lie to yourself and say he’s not attractive, you’ve thought about it before. If you weren’t a thrall and spent more time with Bjorn, you like to think that something might’ve happened between the two of you. But you really have a knack for staying in the shadows, hidden, and only coming out when absolutely necessary.

Throughout the entire evening into night you’ve stayed hidden away as much as possible, watching Bjorn in his position on the throne. Gods, he’s so big. You shake the thought from your head, feeling the pain in your shoulders from so much time racing around today. Your back is killing you. But it’s getting very late, not long and you should be able to go to bed. Not long, you tell yourself. Everyone in the hall should be getting tired too, a long day of celebrations after an even longer time travelling.

They start disappearing in small numbers. Many women leaving in the arms of men, some already married, others seeking comfort in one another just for the night. You’ve made it your business to become familiar with a lot of people around here, not just so you can be a good thrall, but just in case. In case of what, you don’t know. You just think it might be good to have a good indication of who people are, and what they do, in case you need it.

Eventually, there’s only you, a few other slave girls and a handful of men, who are outrageously drunk. They’re so loud. They shout and bang their fists and cups on the table, spilling their drinks and making an even bigger mess that will need to be cleaned up.

Bjorn looks almost fed up, scowling as he watches the men from his seat. He holds his chin, elbow propped up on the arm of the throne. “That is quite enough.” He calls.

All eyes shoot to him. The men look like they want to argue back at him, but ultimately know better than to do so.

“Finish your drinks and leave. Everyone needs their rest.” He gestures around the room, even though there are only a few men, all concentrated on the table nearest the fire. “We have a long few days ahead of us.”

They chug their drinks, not wanting to disappoint or annoy Bjorn any further. They leave one by one, as soon as they each finish drinking, bowing to him before swaggering out of the hall.

You and the other girls are expecting Bjorn to up and leave, letting you all take care of the mess in the hall. But he doesn’t.

You each look at one another from across the room, spaced out along the walls. You’re all as confused as each other, trying to look for someone, or something, to take a cue from.

One of the girls, directly across from you, begins to move. She steps forward gingerly, looking at Bjorn as she does so for any sign that he wants everyone to remain as they are. It’s incredibly tense. This has never happened before. You’re waiting for his voice to boom and echo throughout the mostly empty room, telling the girl to return to her place.

His eyes flick to her, watching as she goes to the table, picking up as many items as she can carry, before returning to stare at the ground, lost in thought and twiddling his fingers. He doesn’t seem to have a problem - you’d know if he did.

And so the rest of you follow her lead, carrying things out of sight to clean and making the hall look more presentable after being thoroughly worn out by the returning warriors.

Your whole body aches. Your back, your feet, your head. Everything. At this point, you just want to sit down. The soles of your feet are probably worn from standing, walking, rushing from one place to the next.

You take any little milestone you can get. You told yourself everyone in the hall would leave and they did. Check. Now it’s four more tables to clear, the fire to put out, the goblets and cups to leave soak. The list goes on.

You and the other girls are dotted around the hall, cleaning and collecting different things when Bjorn gets up. You all make it your duty to not look at him.

Do not make it obvious that you were waiting for him to do something.

You hear him make his way across the room, his heavy boots making the wood underneath him creak, thumping across the stone floor as he descends from the elevated throne. His footsteps stop much too early for him to have already left the room, let alone the building. It’s unbearably quiet.

You audibly gasp when you hear whispering voices - much too quiet for you to understand what they’re saying, and thankfully they’re too far away for them to have heard your embarrassing gasp. Although, you immediately recognise one of the voices as Bjorn’s. Gods, you’d love to turn around to see what he’s doing. His behaviour tonight is continually fascinating.

You try your best to keep going with your task. ‘Just clean the table’ you tell yourself. ‘Focus on that. There’s a stain, try to get it out. Pay no attention to the-‘. Now there’s two sets of footsteps. One Bjorn’s, the other one of the girls. Is she leaving?

The stain. You scrub at it, trying to ignore the way Bjorn’s footsteps stop again. Followed by more whispering. And more footsteps. What the fuck is going on?

You think another one of the girls has left too. You scrub harder at the stain, thinking that perhaps if you channel enough of your remaining energy into removing it then your brain won’t have any to think about what Bjorn may or may not be doing.

Gods, why are you so on edge? Would you be this tense if you could actually see what he was doing? Shit, is that more whispering? And it’s closer. Maybe if you stopped scrubbing the table so loudly you could just about hear…

No. The stain.

Fuck, what is happening? In the room, to the girls, to Bjorn, to you.

You can probably guess what’s happening to you - you’re tired. You’re becoming delusional from being so exhausted by today. You’ve worked hard. You’re still working hard. This damned stain. You’re working so hard to remove it, to distract yourself, you’re only now feeling the way your shoulder is pulling from the harsh movements of your arm.

The stain’s probably gone. You lift your arm up to check and, sure enough, it is. Surely, you’re done for the night now? You’re exhausted, the long hours you’ve worked today are starting to catch up with you. You want to sit down. You want your bed. You want to rest. You want the hand that’s just started rubbing circles across your back to keep doing it. Gods, you could fall asleep right here, the motions lulling you.

Fuck. You flash back to your reality, your head whipping around as Bjorn’s eyes meet yours. He looks aggressive, towering over and shrouding you against the table. His hand rests on the small of your back as he just looks down at you. Maybe its your exhaustion, or perhaps its seeing him this close up for the first time, but Gods is he gorgeous.

Well, you’ve always thought he was handsome but something about seeing the many scars on his face that you’d never had the privilege of seeing before, and the brilliant blue of his eyes somewhat dimmed in the firelight, and the coarse hairs of his beard like this snaps you awake. His smile breaks through the tough exterior he presents, making you relax just a little bit.

The next words that come out of his mouth take you by surprise more than his hand that smoothes across your back. “Have a drink with me.”

Have a drink with him? You probably look insane because you just stare at him. Completely dumbfounded. Somehow you manage to nod your head, letting him lead you away from your lovely, clean table to a slightly dirtier one. At least he appreciates your hard work.

You set yourself down on one of the benches by the fire, resting your arms on the table to try to find a comfortable position where your back doesn’t ache. Bjorn, meanwhile, crosses the room, fetching with him two cups of ale. He sits down right next you, leaving a bit of space but not much.

He looks at you quizzically as he takes a gulp of his drink, whilst you sip. “What is your name again?”

You’re not surprised he doesn’t remember, it’s been many months since you last spoke to him outside of his instructions to you. You answer him between sips of the ale. It’s not your favourite drink in the world, but you like it. And you’ll probably get a small buzz off it between your sleepiness and the lack of water you’ve drank today.

“Hm,” he hums. “That was it. You have been here for several months now, no?”

You can’t help but wonder why he’s sat with you, asking you questions about yourself. Is he expecting you to ask questions back in return? You don’t think there’s a thing you don’t know about him. He is the king, after all.

You nod. “And what do you think of Kattegat?” He swigs from his cup, eyes staying on your face as you carefully consider his question.

You have nothing negative to say about the place, but you still try to choose your words carefully in case you say the wrong thing. “I think it is lovely here.”

He stays silent, willing you to keep talking.

“The people are nice, the food is good. And it is a beautiful place. There is much to see and do.” You elaborate.

He smiles under his beard, nodding in approval at your answer. You sip some more, waiting for another of his questions. He gets up to refill his cup, having finished it rather quickly. He checks yours, seeing it still mostly full, and walks across the room.

Just when he’s about to sit back down, he asks you another question. “And what do you think of the King?”

Your heart starts hammering against your chest - what sort of question is that? Moreover, what the fuck does he expect you to answer if not praise? You see his kind smile has turned into a devilish smirk when you look at him. Are you imaging it or has he sat ever-so-slightly closer to you?

You straighten yourself up, ignoring the painful tugging of your shoulders. “Well,” you begin. “I think that he is just, and fair. And that he makes a good leader.”

The smug look on his face stays, not bearing to stay silent long enough for you to make the decision to keep talking on your own. No, instead he insists you keep feeding his ego as soon as you take the smallest break in talking. “Go on.”

This time it’s you who smirks at him. “I know he is a fierce warrior. And I think that he looks rather good on the throne.” You mean the last remark in that the symbol of authority suits him. But, if he decides to take it … another way, then that’s up to him. Either way, you don’t mind what he interprets the comment to mean.

He looks away from you, chuckling, but giving nothing away. It makes you laugh a little bit too, any tension from earlier having melted away with your easy interactions.

It doesn’t last, not for you at least.

“Tell me, have you ever thought about what it would be like to be Queen?”

With one single sentence, you feel as if he can see right through you, right into you. Fucking of course you have, but how should he know? How can, in one sentence, he be able to floor you like he this, to ask you a question so unintentionally personal? One that pulls something deep within you, something you’ve never voiced to anyone and suddenly now it’s being unearthed by the one person who you should never have to confess it to. Not that you necessarily need to confess the degree to which you have thought about it, but even the insinuation that you have is enough for you to begin flustering, muddling any answer that comes into your head into an unintelligible mess that you can’t verbalise.

You’re quiet for much, much too long. You need to say something. “I’m sorry?” You settle for pretending not to understand.

But it’s no use. The damage caused by you silence is done. His jaw rocks to the side, clenched so hard his jaw bone juts outs under his beard. “So you have.”

Your drink lays forgotten, only serving as a distraction for your anxious hands as you fidget with the rim of the cup. You avoid his gaze, unsure how to act. Then again, surely everyone has dreamt about being king or queen? Maybe not to the degree you have, but doesn’t everyone strive for power? You hold your head up a little bit, feeling slightly reassured by your own line of thinking.

You keep your eyes trained forward, though. He tips his head to look at your face and you can just feel the way he’s smirking at you. He’s left you looking so stupid, stewing in your own thoughts.

“Come with me.” Is all he says as he swings his legs over the bench to stand up. When you look up he’s waiting, hand held out for you to take.

You get up, smoothing your dress out and taking his hand. He guides you out to stand with him on the other side of the bench and leads you towards the very far end of the long room. Towards the throne.

Your eyes flick from him, to the throne, to him again - back and forth as you walk the length of the room.

He stops at the chair and you stop with him, still with your hand in his. Is he doing this as a display to taunt you? Show you up close what you can never have? It’s fucking cruel if he is.

You wait for him to do something so you can take a cue from it. You look up at him and he simply motions with his hand to the throne. You frown, waiting for more information from him. “Sit.” He says.

Sit? On the throne? On his throne? Gods, is this some sort of test? Is he giving you a taste, a mere crumb, of how it might feel to actually have power? Or is he just pushing you to see how far you’re willing to go to obey him? It’s his throne, it belongs to him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone else use it - not even while he’s away, far gone on a raid somewhere.

He drops your hand, using his own to push gently on your shoulders. He spins you around, pulling you down to sit on the throne as he stands behind you.

The room looks huge from this position. Slightly elevated above everyone else and able to see everything and, should the room be full, everyone. It’s comfortable too, and big. You expected as much, Bjorn doesn’t even fully fill the chair and he’s the biggest, broadest man you think you’ve ever seen.

He lowers himself to your ear behind you. “How does it feel?”

‘Correct’, is what you want to say. “Good.” Is what you settle for.

He straightens back up, placing his hands on your shoulders. He’s so big, and he’s putting far too much weight on your already sore shoulders, causing you to wince. “Are you alright?” He asks, alleviating some of the pressure.

“‘M fine, my back hurts is all.” You try to make it not seem as bad as it is, but truthfully you’re in pain.

“Let me help.”

“N-no, it is fine, really.” You lean forward to get up from the throne just as he starts using his thumbs to dig right into a tight spot in the middle of your shoulder blades. You let out a groan at how good it feels, closing your eyes and slumping your head against the back of the chair. Any desire to get up leaves you as Bjorn works the muscles at the back of your neck.

“Tell me if it is too hard.” The calloused pads of his fingers trace firmly across the tops of your shoulders, barely grazing your collar bones as his thumbs work into the top of your back.

It’s a power trip. You sitting on his throne whilst he massages the knots out of your back and shoulders. It’s getting you high, and you open your eyes to look out across the room. You imagine how it would look full of people. Like it was earlier tonight. Packed full with people there to see you. You'd kill for it.

Gods, his hands feel so fucking good and they spread across your shoulders so big. Your eyes flutter back closed, wanting to enjoy his touch without much other sensory experience.

You’re reluctant to acknowledge the fact that it’s turning you on, too. The pain of him rubbing away the aches mixes with just how amazing his warm hands feel against your bare skin. It makes you moan, forgetting where you are as you revel in his hands taking the pain away from you, leaving only traces of his touch behind.

He focuses on your arms now, the clusters of dull ache now gone from your back. His palms work down your biceps, squeezing your soft flesh over your clothes and coming back up to massage your shoulders. His fingers spread out over your chest, rubbing the skin there. You hum under his touch, which he can probably feel reverberating on your chest under his fingertips.

You didn’t tell him your chest hurt, but he spends time concentrating on manipulating your flesh there anyway. His fingers dig into the bones, coming up momentarily to wrap his thick fingers around your neck, squeezing before dipping back down. He repeats this a few times, making you whimper every time he does.

“Is this good?” He whispers from behind you.

You moan out a small ‘yes’, letting him continue with his handy work. His splayed hands come further down your chest, beginning to dip below the necklace of your dress. Your heart beats faster and fuck, you’re wet. You’re trying not to let it get to you but in this moment, you’d let him do anything to you, you realise.

You furrow your brows, trying to push it to the back of your mind, but his hands keep working further and further down, in tiny increments. You swear he’s going to reach your breasts any moment. But he doesn’t. It feels like he’s teasing you. In fact, he goes anywhere besides them. He massages the skin directly above them, kneading into it with the heel of his palm. Then, he dips his fingertips deep into the neckline of your dress, drawing a long, hard line through the middle of your chest, dragging between your breasts. He starts near the bottom of your sternum, feeling the rapid beat of your heart as you try not to think about the warmth pooling between your legs.

You don’t see the way his jaw clenches as he realises how rousing you’re finding this, being groped and touched by him. He told himself he wasn’t going to take it any further, but he can’t help himself. Not when you respond to his touch like this. All the little moans you’ve been making, and the way your heart thrums against your chest. He wants more from you. He wants to hear and feel more of you. Fuck it, he thinks.

He touch leaves you, and you feel yourself come down slightly from a high you didn’t even realise was so severe until it cuts short. You open your eyes to see him walking around to the front of the throne again. He extends his hand to you, much like he did earlier, and you know its your signal to get up from the throne.

You take it, feeling no pain whatsoever in your back, nor shoulders, when you hurl yourself from the comfort of the chair.

He surveys you, using his free hand to cup your cheek. His touch is intoxicating. You don’t know what it is, but the way his hands feel on your skin makes you chase the warmth of him, needing more than the short strokes he gives you. You lean your head into his palm, only slightly but enough to indicate your interest to him.

He’s trying so hard not to give into the part of his brain that tells him to kiss you and to touch you even more. But he hasn’t done well at fighting it up until now. And, unless he’s deluded, you want this too.

Your chest rises and falls, waiting for him to do something. It’s not your place to. His hand stays holding your cheek. It’s so fucking big. It’s big enough for his palm to cover your entire cheek. Gods, his hands were big enough to almost spread out across your chest. His long, thick fingers working at the base of your neck and down past your breasts. Your mind drifts as you stare at him, thinking about how they might feel somewhere else.

His hand drops from your cheek. You think he’s going to walk away and leave you desperate for his touch again. Instead, he sits back down on his throne, looking up at you as he settles against the back of it casually.

Fucking Gods, if he keeps looking at you like that you’re going to jump on him. It’s him that made you feel like this anyway. You were perfectly content to go to bed after finishing cleaning, but no. He had to ask if you wanted a drink with him, and ask you questions, and fucking massage you as you sat on his throne.

He keeps looking at you, considering what to do next. All he knows is he wants you out of your dirty, worn clothes. He flicks his hand up and down, gesturing at them. “Take it off.” He tells you.

Finally, you think, trying not to be too eager in removing your garments.

You start with your shirt, unhooking the top few buttons to allow you to slip the long sleeves down your arms. You let the sleeves fall and the rest of the garment goes with it, left in a heap at your feet. You’re completely revealed for him, your body glowing from the light of the fire behind you.

His cock twitches in his trousers upon seeing you bare before him. He’s trying not to be too obvious, trying to be patient in looking at your body, but he’s greedy. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin that he can see.

You look down at the slight tent in his trousers, smirking at him. He returns it, curling his finger at you to beckon you forward. You’re much too far away, he wants to let his hands explore you. Much further than they already did.

You walk to him, meeting his hands as they come up to hold your tits. Those big fucking hands that trace under the swell of your breast. That grope at your flesh, and his thumbs that brush over your nipples, hard in the cool night air that makes its way into the hall.

He alternates between pinching your nipples, pulling them so hard it almost hurts, and soothing them again by gently rubbing over them.

Everything about this feels so dirty. Displaying yourself to Bjorn. The literal king. Offering yourself to him naked like this whilst he sits completely clothed on his throne. You know you’re probably not the first thrall he’s done this with, but it’s a first for you. And you actually like it. It’s a thrill. Whimpering at every roll of his fingertips over your nipples.

You ache for his touch somewhere else, trying to subtly squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of the ache. He doesn’t seem to be in any sort of hurry, taking his time to study every detail and flaw in your skin. It could be ages before he touches you elsewhere - if he decides to touch you elsewhere.

He pinches you again, but you’re so sensitive from his hands that you yelp, chest jumping under his touch. He looks up at you, looking at your face for the first time since you removed your clothes as he leans forward, enveloping your breast in his mouth. His tongue is hot but does wonders to soothe the slight stinging. He maintains eye contact as he swirls gentle circles around your nipple, leave a small bite before he moves to work on your other one. His beard scratches at your skin as he moves his mouth, melting in with the pleasure he's already giving you.

You snake your arm around his head, holding him to you as you watch him in awe. He’s an expert with his tongue, flicking and drawing patterns over the peaks. He moves on from focusing all of his attention on them though, sucking sloppy wet kisses into the bouncy flesh on your tits. He travels the kisses across your chest, leaving you glistening with his saliva. He goes down, grabbing at your hips as he traces his tongue down the centre of your breasts to just above your navel.

You want him to go further, resisting the want to buck your hips towards him to will him to go on. He draws his head back, his hands still resting on your hips.

He shifts his gaze down, watching his own movements as his fingers move across your lower abdomen, combing through the curls that lead him down.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

You nod. Gods, it’s more than okay. You’ve been waiting for him to touch you for the last … how long? You’ve lost all sense of time. All you know is you’re needy for him.

His tips of his fingers travel further, stilling as they reach the beginning of your slit. He lifts his head, studying how your face contorts in pleasure as he moves his fingers again, pressing one of them against your clit.

He pushes his finger down further towards your entrance, feeling how wet you are there. He smiles at this, satisfied knowing how turned on you are for him. He drags his finger back through, now wet with your slick, using it to draw an irritatingly weak circle around your clit. You try to push your hips further forward for more pressure, but the hand that remains on your hip prevents you from doing so.

Your breath staccatos as he pays not nearly enough attention to your throbbing clit. You moan at the loss of contact when he removes his hand from your cunt altogether, spinning you around so your back, and ass, face him. He almost pushes you over as he grabs handfuls of your behind, spreading your cheeks apart to really get a good look at you.

All you need is just a little push, a minute or so of strong, steady work on your pussy to send you over the edge. He’s intent on making you wait though. It’s cruel, you think. He knows what he’s doing to you - he’s fucking felt it. It’s sadistic. Making you wait. Teasing you.

He kneads your ass, his thumbs dipping into the space between your cheeks, so close to where you need him but never quite reaching there. It’s torturous. You know if you push your rear out against him, it’ll probably result in a longer wait before he properly pays you the attention you desperately crave. And so you stay just as you are, letting him manipulate your flesh as he so pleases. You can wait, you tell yourself.

Suddenly, he takes one of his hands away, using it to place a hard smack against your ass. You cry out as you feel heat rising where he’s slapping you. It stings and you’re surprised you like it. He watches your body shake, eagerly awaiting more. You clench around nothing as he lands another one. And another. He huffs a laugh, seeing how your body jolts at every strike, continuing to land a few more as he pleases.

He seems satisfied with his work on your behind, raising his hands to your hips once again. He places a soft kiss on your burning skin and then you’re being hurled backwards, landing on his lap.

He immediately starts attacking your neck with tongue and teeth, hands roaming around your stomach to pull you into a comfortable position on him. He then uses them to pull your legs over both of his, spreading them to give himself access to your body.

And he makes sure he makes the most of it. He grabs your tits, letting your head roll onto his shoulder as he continues his assault on your neck. You feel your skin going tender as he sucks harsh spots against the delicate flesh there. You feel the irritation there as his rough beard scratches your skin, with the potential to leave your skin marred.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He whispers between sloppy kisses.

“Gods, please.” You moan in response.

“Where?” He grabs your hand, placing it over his and pressing firmly, letting you guide him wherever you want him. You take his hand down, letting it hover over your trembling cunt. He nips at your jaw. “I thought so.”

He repeats his motion from earlier, pressing a single finger against your clit, but instead of only dipping down to your entrance, he opts to slide an entire finger into you down to his knuckle. Your back tries to arch away from him, but he keeps you locked down against his chest with his spare arm.

He pumps the finger in and out of you, making the most obscene squelching sound from the warm wetness he uses to ease the movements of his digit. Your arms lay useless at the side of you, letting him do all the work to pleasure you.

He adds another finger, scissoring the two of them inside you, stretching you open as he brings his thumb down onto your clit. To go from one lone finger to this makes you cry out, hips spasming from the shock. You can’t help moaning with how he works your pussy, curling his fingers to hit a spot deep inside you that makes you feel dizzy.

“If you keep being so loud people are going to hear you.” He warns.

“Maybe I would like that.” You retort, bucking your hips as far as you can with him restricting your body’s movements.

You feel his cock twitch against you as he snarls into your ear. “Such a filthy girl.” One of his hands begins snaking its way towards your throat, grabbing at it harshly to cut off any noise that tries to escape your mouth. “But as much as I like hearing your pretty sounds, I need you to be quiet.”

The moans get trapped in your throat, and you can’t warn him of your oncoming orgasm. It starts creeping up on you, burning low in the pit of your stomach as his hands work to push you further and further. You hit at the hand on your neck, trying to get him to let you go.

He loosens his grip but the fingers inside you work faster to make you cum. “What is the matter?”

“Close.” Is all you say, the oxygen able to reach your brain again momentarily before he constricts around your neck again.

He nods into your shoulder, kissing you there as he pumps, nudging your clit with his thumb as he does so. The way you make the smallest noises that he feels trying to escape beneath his fingers makes him groan. You’re making him so fucking hard. Your pussy clamps down around his fingers, preparing for your climax when he slows his movements down entirely, sending you spinning away from coming. He removes his fingers from you, bringing them to trace small wet circles around your nipples, as his other hand eases its grip on your throat.

It takes you completely by surprise, only seconds away from finishing when he rips it all away from you. You’re breathless, asking him why he stopped. “I didn't cum.” You tell him.

“No, I know.” He laughs the deepest, filthiest laugh you think you’ve ever heard in your ear. “You’re not coming yet. I want you wetter before I make you cum on my cock.”

The words hit deep inside you, making you clench on instinct. So this is what he wants to do? Prepare you to take him. Or maybe he just likes seeing you squirm and fidget on his lap, completely in control of your body.

Either way, it’s doing wonders to keep you wanting him.

He slowly drops his hand back down, bringing the same two fingers into your warm heat. He leaves your clit alone, focusing all his attention on dragging the rough pads of his fingers against the sweet spot inside you. He curls them, hitting just where you need him to every single time. It’s bliss and before long your walls start fluttering, a sign of your peak.

He feels it. He feels how your pussy starts spasming around his fingers, clenching the very tips of them as he pushes them so fucking deep into you. He loves this. Getting to push you further and further. He wants you begging for him to let you cum. Begging for him to fuck you and let you cum all over him. He wonders how many times he can edge you before he gives in to your sweet little cries and pleading eyes.

Both of you knew it wouldn’t take long for your high to burn back up as quickly as it diminished. It makes you crazed, letting your loud moans fill the hall with nothing around your neck to stop them getting out. He works faster, now knowing how you respond to being so close, pushing his fingers into your opening and using his other hand to absentmindedly play with your tits.

He knows now how to work you up unbearably quick and strip it all away before you're pushed too far - and it’s exactly what he does. As you're sent hurtling forwards towards your high once again, he takes away his fingers, leaving you edged again.

You slump back against him and let your head rest on his shoulder, already exhausted from the whiplash of pleasure and it being stripped away before it’s able to consume you.

He rolls your head towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead. “You’re doing so well.” He praises. He rubs your thighs, waiting for the right time to start playing with your cunt again. It’s surprisingly soothing.

He waits for your breath to become steady and for your body to cool down. You’re worked up beyond belief

Your body’s covered in a cold sweat, worn out from all the edging he’s putting you through. You don’t even know how much more of this you can take. How much more you can tolerate before you take matters into your own hands, giving yourself your own release. It sounds good, but truthfully? Waiting it out for the prospect of being fucked by him? Gods, it sounds a thousand times better. You can’t see it but you can just feel how big he is, his cock pressing hard into your back. You want to feel it stretching you, filling you in a way his fingers fail to achieve.

He decides you must be ready, because he takes two fingers to rub against your clit. Your hips buck up, the nerves in your clit overworked and yet desperate to chase any contact to give them release. Your moans come out frantically, whimpering in your slumped position lying against him as his hot breath fans over your face.

His fingers work around your bud with ease, using the excessive slick you’re producing to slip through your folds. He loves this, watching how your body looks, so worked up. You’re shining with sweat, an icy sheen over your entire body, coating your chest, your legs. Beautiful.

You’re so sensitive and you haven’t even cum. You writhe in his lap, waiting for the moment you feel yourself about to peak and trying to prepare for the eventual fall away from it. You know it’s going to happen. He told you he wants to fuck you through your orgasm, so you know you’re about to be denied three times in a row.

You feel it, again. Your clit becoming more and more needy as his fingertips swirl around it. Your back starts to arch, preparing for a climax that’s not going to happen. You push his hand away on instinct, already accustomed to being denied your high. The quick movement of your hand takes you both by surprise.

You keep a firm grip as your fingers lock around his hand, keeping it held hovered above your pussy. Your eyes flutter closed. You know you can’t take another round of this … whatever it is. Fucking torture.

“You learn fast.” He remarks, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, your orgasm slipping away from you for the third time.

“Please, let me cum.” You plead with him.

“Here, get up.” He helps you to your feet as you stand on weak, shaking legs.

You get up, feeling just how wet you are at the apex of your thighs as they press together for the first time since he pulled you onto his lap. They move together, sticky, as you pad around to face him.

He’s spread out across the chair, just as he was earlier when you saw him. The only difference is the huge bulge in his trousers, and the wet spot - evidence of the messiness between your legs.

He dips his hand below the loose waistband of his trousers, pumping himself without you being able to fully see. With his other hand he pulls you by your hips onto his lap, facing him this time. You place your knees in the free space left on the throne on either side of his legs. You reach your hand to meet his in his trousers and feel how big he is for yourself.

Your hand can barely wrap around his girth. You give him a hard tug, making him grunt. It’s like music to your ears. Finally getting to hear the noises he makes, instead of him pulling the sounds out of you as he denies you. He twitches in your hand as you free him from the confines of his trousers.

And if you couldn’t feel it in your hand, you fucking see it. He’s huge. You bite your lip, anticipating the difficulty you’re going to have letting him fuck you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone this big before, let alone let them inside you.

You look up at him, seeing how smug he looks knowing you’re gobsmacked. He knows he’s impressive. Just knows you’ve never seen a cock that big. He probably knows you’re going to find it hard to take, too.

So you’re determined to take it. And you’re so fucking ready to cum. You need it.

You rise up on your knees, lining him up with your entrance. You're wet enough, but even the nudge of his head against your opening makes your mouth fall open. He pulses in your hand as you stay there, trying to let your cunt adjust to the intrusion.

The way he stretches your tight hole makes it sting. But you can’t help but think it feels fucking amazing - he fills you so well as you sink down onto him. A different kind of pain and pleasure mixture than when his big, warm hands were caressing your shoulders and chest, earlier. It’s not warm and soft like that, it’s blazing hot and fiery, perfect around him as he throbs.

Your hands find their way back onto his chest, confident that he won’t slip out of you by accident. You move up and down on just the top half of his length, taking yourself further down with every jolt of your hips.

The hands on your hips still you as you move down on him. “Do you want me deeper?” He pushes his hips up, nudging his cock further into you by a mere fraction. “Tell me, is that what you want? You need me to fill you?”

Fucking of course it’s what you want, you want to feel him all the way inside you. You want to be able to feel him when you walk tomorrow. You’re just nervous at having to take all of him. “Yes, just go slow.”

He stays holding your hips, lifting his hips up to push into you. He loves watching it. Loves how it feels. How your tight heat clenches around him as he pushes into you. He takes it slow, like you asked, gently lowering you back onto him a little as he watches himself move inside you. You’re almost there and he thrusts the rest of the way into you, burying himself to the hilt.

You mewl, completely filled by him now. You roll your hips against him, feeling every time his head moves against your walls and nudges against your cervix.

“F-Fuck. Bjorn -“ you begin.

He feels your thighs clenching on either side of him, a sign that you’re about to cum. “Do it.” He says. “Cum for me.”

The relief washes over you just as your orgasm does. Your body jolts forward, unable to hold yourself up anymore. You cum hard. So hard. He feels his cock get flooded with more of your arousal as you squeeze him with the flexing muscles in your cunt. Your eyes roll back as you hold yourself against him for security, clutching onto him hoping to ground yourself against something.

He keeps moving his hips against your writhing ones, dragging his cock inside you. It makes you scream. The sound gets muffled against his clothed chest as you crumple into a spent heap on him.

You feel more than hear the guttural moans that escape Bjorn as he feels you coming undone so hard on his lap. The sounds reverberate in his chest underneath you and he holds you close to him. You nuzzle into his chest, letting him take over the movement to chase his peak now that you’ve reached yours.

He meets virtually no resistance from your cunt now, easing in and out with your slick and the slackness that came with your orgasm. He thrusts a few times before starting to hammer into you with zero remorse.

You try to thrash out, but he’s holding you so tight against his chest that there’s nowhere for you to go.

“You didn’t think I was only going to let you cum once, did you?” He growls into your ear. “You worked so hard, you deserve one more.”

Your arms are trapped under the weight of your upper body, all of which is held flush against him as his arms wrap around you. He holds you in place as he brutally fucks up into you, his skin slapping against yours and making the filthiest smacking noises that echo around the empty room.

You relax against him, feeling every inch he buries into you and letting yourself be carried away by the euphoric way he’s making you feel. You swear, no one’s ever made you feel like this.

He notices the way you go slightly limp against him, using the opportunity to keep one arm around you and wedging the other between the two of you. There’s just enough room for him to reach his middle finger up to stroke over your clit in perfect time with his thrusts.

There’s no sound that escapes your mouth when you open it to cry out. Only a hoarse, throaty moan that gets caught somewhere. Tears form at the corners of your eyes as you feel another peak approaching. It’s debilitating. Your cunt's been teased so many times and then allowed to cum, it’s as if it doesn’t know how to deal with the oncoming climax. You clench, drawing higher and higher and higher, waiting to be dropped down to your pleasure.

When you cum, it’s even more brutal than the time before. He has no consideration for your spasming body as his pace never falters, only becoming even easier for him to fuck you now with two orgasms worth of your cum to guide him.

You cry his name out, begging him to cum soon. You don’t know how much more of his savage, relentless thrusts you can take.

“P-perfect. So good.” He replies, losing himself in chasing his high. He can feel himself getting closer. And the way your pussy gets so wet and how you clench so hard around him. Gods, he’s surprised he didn’t cum with you. He has always prided himself on his ability to last, though. “W-won’t - fuck - won’t be long. Want to cum in this cunt.”

Fucking please, you think. You want to feel him fill you in the only way he hasn’t yet.

His movements begin to falter ever-so-slightly, so you know he means it when he says he’s close. He tries to get a few more good, deep thrusts into you before he cums. He lasts for maybe five or six more.

Everything about him is big and excessive. Big hands, broad shoulders, big cock. And even his fucking load is huge. He pushes into you as he spurts his cum, feeling it drip down his cock and drilling it back into you as he tries to keep fucking you while he cums.

He sounds so good moaning in your ear, louder than he’s been moaning this entire time. The noises he makes are gorgeous - low, husky groans right next to you.

He drops his hips down, but even still half his length is still buried inside you. You feel his cum leak out of you, probably mixed with some of your own wetness. And he, in turn, feels it run down his cock, dripping down onto his balls.

You’re both left breathless and completely exhausted. He rests on the chair, one of his arms still haphazardly thrown around you, the other hanging over the arm of the throne. You lie on top of him, still curling your upper body to huddle into the warmth of his chest.

He clears his throat. “I must confess something." He begins. You lift your head up slightly to look at him. The sweat gleams on his forehead, dripping down from his temples. "I have heard the demands of the Gods. And they demand a queen for Kattegat.”

Your eyes go wide, not that he can see.

“So,” he sweeps the hand on your back upwards, coming to hold your face as he asks you one final question. “How would you like to be Queen?”

[akaashioppa]

Forever Will Never Be The Same

pairings: oikawa x reader

summary: The reader finally confronts her husband Oikawa after cheating allegations in the male locker room. angst!!!

warnings: curse words, mentions of the reader having a son with Oikawa, confronting of cheating. 

w/c: 1736

A/N: first time writing for Oikawa :)

Haikyuu Masterlist  Masterlist

“Everyone get out now!”

Your voice echoed off the metal lockers of the locker room. Eyes widened as you made your way into the changing room, not because of the fact that a girl was entering the male’s locker room. It was the fact that Oikawa (Y/N) was coming to kick her husband’s ass. Just as every man passed you to flee, their musky scent filled your nose making you cringe.

After the final whistle of the game, people were scavenging to take pictures with Oikawa Toru except you. Each morning that you woke your husband up he would give you one of those cheeky grins that he was giving the fans right now, the stupid grin was fake. Laughter, jokes, and cries filled your ears, for what reason? The Great King made his grand entrance back to the court, winning both sets with the help of Iwaizumi. The Great King himself showered his fans with love and pictures while you stood from afar, anger flowing through your veins. Knowing the Poker Face King for ten years and having been married to him for two, it was easy to mimic the grin. As girls would pass by screaming about the pictures they took with him you would shoot them that famous grin. 

You timed each moment perfectly, celebrating the win, pictures with fans, interviews with the sports commentators, more fan interaction and now he hits the locker room for a shower. Luckily for you, he was beginning to take his sweaty jersey off, beads of sweat from the previous game were still prominent.

“What are you doing here?” The look on his face was one of a kind, it was a mixture of panic and anger. Nothing to be afraid of, it’s not like he didn’t give you the same look when you caught him at the bar with another woman. Or the time you were driving down the road with his phone constantly going off, every other minute he’d get notifications, this would go on for hours.

The yelling of the men from the locker room made you come back to reality. Have they not seen a woman before or was it because you were standing there looking at their dick prints? A white tint cast over their knuckles from how hard they were holding their towels around their waist. ‘What a sight to see

“You can either tell me the truth or you can tell me the truth there’s no in-between.” You barked at Oikawa, men were still scattering out of the locker room. You barely gave them time to leave before you bombarded your husband with your question. 

The  panic on his face was quite entertaining, he moved in front of you so you couldn’t see his half-naked teammates running out of the locker room.“What are you talking about!?”

“When were you going to tell me that you went to a nightclub with Iwaizumi!? He told me everything so I’m giving you the chance to come clean about it!”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you were going to be mad.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You got straight to the point, there was no need for you to sit here and procrastinate any longer. This has been on your mind ever since you got those three attachments from Iwaizumi.

“No” He scoffed, “Why would I sleep with her? I have too much respect for you to sleep with her.”

“Oh really, the way you were holding her waist makes me think differently. The way you kissed her neck makes me want to snap yours!” You held up a photo on your phone with him and another girl at the nightclub. His head was in her neck, you could see that he was kissing on it, his arms were wrapped around her waist but his hands were dangerously low.“Respect? Do you even know the definition of respect because if you did you wouldn’t have me out here looking stupid!”

He sat down on the bench of the locker room, his arms were tightly around his chest. Oikawa was already over this conversation, this wasn’t the first time you blew up in the face about this. Nor the second, he respected you in a weird way. He never laid hands on you, or even yelled at you but he couldn’t keep his hands off other women. 

“How do I make you look stupid!? I give you everything you want!”

“Everything but love.” You yelled desperately, the thing about arguing with him about these situations was that he’d always claim that he knew what you wanted. He’d always try to bring light on the situation when he clearly fucked up. He was a great husband, you guys had been dating since high school. Since he got the fame and money things turned upside down, he became a legit monster. 

“I show love to you every day, I make love to you every week!” His voice rose an octave, his hand was flying all over the place when he spoke. 

You were appalled, sickened, offended, that he could say something like that. It hurts to know that he thinks this way, it almost makes you feel worthless. Does he really consider having sex as love? “That’s not loving Toru, that's lust.”

He sighed, his hands were on his knees, he got up to finish packing up his things. “Well, I’m over it. I don’t want you here anymore. Leave”

“How can you give up so easily on us.” You forced his hands away from his bag, he looked at you with a confused face. You poked him hard in his chest slowly provoking him, “I forgave you so many times after you treated me like trash. All the times you cheated and came home with women’s numbers falling out of your pockets. Many sleepless nights just to make sure that your knee would stop bothering you. I wake up every morning to make you your special breakfast so you can be game ready and yet I haven’t given up on you.”

“I’m just tired of arguing with you. All you do is complain about my lifestyle. If you can’t keep up then we shouldn’t be together. How can I keep consoling you after you get all jealous about me hanging out with fans or me taking pictures with my fans? It’s just toxic (Y/N).” He spat back, he didn’t seem angered. It was more of an annoyed look. 

“Because you only hang out with female fans, it’s fine and all but when they’re posting sexual pictures with you, it’s a different story. I scroll down my feed to see you with more women than see pictures of us together. It’s like I don’t exist”

“Whatever (Y/N) I need to get ready for the after-party.”

“What about us? How are we going to fix this?”

“There is no us!” He screamed, his voice echoed off the lockers. He placed his hands on his hips trying to compose himself. “It’s only you and Torio. And me, Torio and volleyball! There is no us, not anymore and that’s it!”

You took a step back, each word was like a dagger in your heart. He would often bring your son into the matter. Ever since your son was born you’ve always felt like you and Oikawa had grown apart. It was like you were forcing yourself to stay for Torio’s sake. There would be days where things were good, on those days you and Oikawa wouldn’t argue. However, when days like this occur he’d make you hurt, you’d always end up questioning your ability of loving. Deep down you felt like you guys were drifting apart but you didn’t want to admit it. It was too painful, Oikawa would have been left if it weren’t for Torio. He wanted his fans and the sports media to look at him as a family man.

“Why is it so hard to ask someone to love me!?” Your breaking point had finally come, you held your hands over your mouth to stop the loud sobs. It was hard to know that your husband and high school sweetheart didn’t want you. You gave up everything to support him with his dreams, family, friends, work, school, and even your fucking sanity and yet she still treats you this way. 

He stood there watching you beat yourself down, he didn’t do anything but place a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged it off, the last thing you wanted was for him to touch you. “Listen I loved you back in high school but now high school is over. You’re still basing this love off of that and I’m not here for it. All these insecurities you have are a bit annoying in my defense. Maybe this relationship would work if you grew the fuck up.”

“You can’t give up on us now. We need each other. Torio needs his dad. ” Lie, you needed him. Yes, Torio needed his dad but you needed your husband. It was crazy to think that you would go back to him but it was just your toxic ways. You never loved anyone but him, he was all that you had. Your life that you lived was based upon him. 

“Look, we can talk about this later if you want, but right now I have thousands of fans waiting for me to show my face. You can either suck it up and go out there with me or you can hit the back doors and go home.”

“Toru…”

“What do you want?” He groaned, he turned back around with an annoyed face. He was fed up with you and even the situation. You knew he wanted you gone, he was waiting for the minute you’d leave so he could go and party. 

Obviously an answer, he was too consumed with himself to even realize that. It was the reason why you came in here yelling at his teammates to leave, you wanted to ask him a question in private. The thought of getting your feelings hurt in front of everyone was not ideal.

“I just asked a simple question. Did you sleep with her?”

You looked up at him for the first him, your vision was blurry but you could see him well enough to see that stupid smirk.“What do you think?”

[iguessitsjustme]

Big Dragon Ep 5 Thoughts

-This continues to be the only show I do this for. It greatly increases my enjoyment of the show to post like this and I cannot explain why. I wish y’all could see and hear my reactions in real time though because they’re kind of hilarious. Anyway time for my favorite assholes!

-I cannot lie. I love this opening song. And the visuals. It has no business being this good. 

-Unrelated but the wind is so strong right now I’m pretty sure it just blew through my building. I felt a breeze and a receipt blew across my table and onto my floor. I should probably be concerned but this is one of those situations where I have no control so whatever is gonna happen is gonna happen and there’s no use stressing about it. I’ll probably be fine.

-Oh so Mangkorn was telling her no and she wasn’t listening. I mean he could have removed her at any time but I don’t blame him for wanting her to LISTEN. Considering this show started with a mutual sexual assault there is an insanely good amount of consent. 

-This is no longer the Bad Buddy song. The soundtrack has changed. Love that. 

-Of COURSE it starts raining. Why wouldn’t it? 

-YES. KEEP PUNCHING EACH OTHER. VIOLENCE. 

-Oh look. They’re fucking again. Thought it was weird that it was taking so long for them to fuck again. *eats Cheetos*

-Oh no not the model!

-Can he cook for me? 

-Oh this is so sweet. He made Yai a dish his mother used to make for him when we all know Yai has been particularly missing his mother lately. A mother’s love comes in all forms. 

-Aw they’re treating each other’s wounds. That they caused. They really went from punching each other in the face to fucking with no steps in between. 

-They make each other better and they make each other worse.

-For the love of god, please do not just throw away the sd card with your sex tape on it. If you want it gone, properly destroy it. Who knows who will go digging through yall’s trash. 

-Are they communicating? What’s happening. Or their version of communicating.

-These boys always eat seaweed snacks. What would happen if I fed them a cheeto?

-Y’all literally just had an intense fucking session and y’all are shocked by the kiss while eating the seaweed? 

-Caught in the ACT.

-I may or may not be in love with Mangkorn’s mother. Her facial expressions are sending me. I’ve been launched into orbit. I want to go get drinks with this woman. 

-At least they weren’t having sex when she walked in. Can you IMAGINE?

-Y’all really broke everything while fucking. His mom was probably concerned. Probably thought he’d been robbed or was hurt. And she comes home to find y’all kissing over some seaweed.

-BODYGUARDS. They don’t video call from the void like Yai’s father. Seriously. Why did he call from the void?

-The amount I love Park and Pong is absurd.

-None of these three know how to clean. 

-Boy was thinking about dick while eating that corn dog. Horny jail. 

-Oh here comes the drama. It’s payback for making me watch you thinking about dick while eating that corn dog with my own two eye holes . It’s KARMA. 

-Please for the love of god, let Hong be a lesbian. It’s all I want. 

-Mangkorn, let me help you with your words “I do not like Hong. We grew up together and are close. There is some family stuff I need to sort out before I can tell you more, but I don’t like her and she doesn’t like me.” There done. You don’t gotta tell him everything but geez you gotta give him something. He’s an insecure little baby. 

-Is this…communication? 

-This scene is too long. It’s too long of just people standing on talking. 

-They're just hurting each other. But this time with words instead of fists. 

-Oh no. No no no no no no no. You stop that. You put that microphone down. Don’t make me go over there. If you start singing I swear to god

-Yai is such a little drama queen. 

-DO NOT SING. WHY. WHAT DID I DO TO DEAERVE THIS. 

-Fast forwarding is the best thing that’s ever happened.

-You see. This is why you shouldn’t give a drunk person a microphone.

-That caterpillar is so random. 

-Nine is cute. He’s too nice for Yai though. Only Mangkorn for Yai. Only assholes for assholes. 

-This scene is so precious though. Of course Mangkorn is gonna catch them kissing. Are they kissing? Where else would the drama come from? His arranged marriage? No that would be too obvious. 

-End of episode. Next week looks promising. Love that for us. 

[mysunnylemonade]

insecurities | lee jeno

↳ pairing: lee jeno (nct) x fem!reader

↳ genre: slight angst, mostly fluff & suggestive but only if u squint rlly hard

↳ word count: 1482

↳ warning: reader being insecure about her looks i guess?? (love urself ppl yall beautiful <3)

song recommendation: met a girl by tarune

♡

Hate was a strong word, but you felt it was appropriate to say that you absolutely hated nights like the one you were having on this particular day. Standing half-naked in front of the full-body mirror situated in the corner of your shared bedroom, your eyes swept over your body once more. You despised the way your gaze lingered on the stretch marks that tainted your skin.

Wallowing in self-pity and stressing over your physical flaws wasn't exactly a standard routine for you, especially when Jeno was around. But your boyfriend wouldn't be back until late at night, having texted you he had something to do that would require him to stay at the studio longer than usual.

You turned to the side, pressing your palm over your stomach, rubbing up and down as if it would magically flatten your abdomen. Nothing happened, of course, leaving you feeling sick and fed up with the thoughts you were having.

You wiped the tears accumulating in your eyes, not allowing it to trickle down your cheeks. You could see your boyfriend's face in your mind and briefly wondered whether you were truly good enough for him. You didn't blame your insecurities on him, never. Your boyfriend was nothing but loving, and he showered you with gifts just as much as he showered you with loving words, but there were times when it was remarkably hard to believe his kind words.

You wished you could miraculously switch off your mind and climb out of this self-loathing pit you had willingly put yourself into. It was your fault, you would admit that. If you hadn't decided to strip into your underwear and scrutinise yourself in the mirror then maybe you would've been in the dining room enjoying the dinner you had made by now.

As you were stepping closer to the mirror to get a better lock at your face, you heard the turning of a key in a lock before the front door was pushed open. The realisation that Jeno had come home much earlier than you expected kept you paralysed on the spot. It wasn't until you heard the front door shutting that you were finally able to move, hastily wiping the tears from your reddened eyes and shrugging on the robe you had carelessly tossed onto the bed.

You heard him call for your name but you didn't respond, scurrying into the bathroom to wash your face in hopes of being able to get rid of any evidence that you had been crying. Jeno couldn't know. You weren't going to drag him into your mess.

You cursed to yourself as you studied your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks and nose were flushed, and your eyes were unmistakably bloodshot. There was no way Jeno wouldn't notice.

"Baby, you in here?" Jeno called out from the entrance of the bedroom. You heard shuffling as he took off his jacket. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously close to the bathroom, and you immediately faked a smile. "Hey, why haven't you eaten dinner yet? Were you waiting for me?"

Turning your head, you were met with your boyfriend's figure standing in the bathroom doorway. It tugged your heart to see him look so beautiful, even after a whole day of working. You just couldn't understand why he had chosen you. Why hadn't he picked someone with less baggage and imperfections?

You watched as his small smile transformed into a frown. Without any hesitation, he stepped forward to grab your hand. "Hey, have you been crying? What's wrong?"

You forced a quiet chuckle. "I was watching this new romance movie that just released." You watched his face closely, swallowing when you saw that his worried expression hadn't dissipated at all. "Have you eaten dinner yet? Go shower and come eat dinner with me."

You squeezed his hand assuringly once more before walking past him to give him some privacy in the bathroom. "Were you really just watching a movie? You look like you've been crying for hours."

You plopped onto the bed with a huff and looked up to see Jeno had walked out of the bathroom and was slowly approaching your sitting form. "Babe, we've been dating long enough for you to know I'm sensitive when it comes to tragic endings."

He stood in front of you, cupping your cheeks in his hand to tilt your head up. "Yeah, and I also know my girlfriend enough to know whenever she's lying."

You managed to smile and shake your head as he pressed his thumbs to caress the irritated skin underneath your puffy eyes. "Jeno, I'm okay."

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against yours, causing your noses to brush. The both of you stayed like that for a few more seconds, and you welcomed the distraction. You wanted to forget the cause of your previous breakdown and Jeno's presence was helping tremendously.

Feeling the gentle brush of his lips against yours, you gasped, hands flying to grasp his arms. "Jeno," you breathed, pulling away slightly to look into his eyes. They were dark, wild, so lovely.

"Tell me," he muttered softly.

Unable to look into his eyes as you confessed, you looked down at your lap. "I'm sorry," you began. "It's just so stupid. You're the best boyfriend there is, you treat me so well, and you're just so beautiful, Jeno, and I don't know how to... compete with that."

Once again, he forced your head up so he could look into his eyes. "Baby, we're not competing for anything. What are you trying to say?"

"I just can't understand why you're still with me. I'm so flawed, and you can settle for someone who's so much more good looking, someone who can give you so much more than I can."

Jeno's face remained expressionless as he gazed down at you, but you could tell the gears in his head were all turning. His silence worried you so you shifted in your seat awkwardly.

He seemed to notice your slight movement and finally snapped out of his train of thoughts. "Wait, you're not messing with me, right?"

Groaning, you tried to stand up, but he held your waist before you could walk away. "Okay, I know it's stupid. Can we just forget about it? Please?"

His eyes widened and he pulled you closer to him until there was no space left in between the two of you. "No, no, this is far from stupid. If you feel this way, it means I haven't done a good job at being your boyfriend. I'm supposed to be making you feel loved, but—"

"No! You've been a perfect boyfriend, you're perfect. It's not your fault, seriously, it's mine."

"If this is about the way you look, then I'll have to disagree and say that it's not your fault. Everything you consider imperfections or flaws, they're a part of you, and I fell in love with that a long time ago, and I'm not falling out of love anytime soon."

"I'm sorry for being so insecure. I just... I feel like you deserve better."

His lips broke out into a soft yet wistful smile. "You're not in any position to tell me what I deserve and don't baby," he mumbled lightheartedly. "Being with you was a choice that I made, loving you is something that I choose to do until now. All these choices that I made are all choices that I made deliberately, not because I'm forced to."

Unable to say anything else, your tears began to blur your visions once again, but this time it was because you were thankful. You felt so blessed that out of all of the people in the world, you ended up with Lee Jeno—a boy whose smile shone as bright as the sun and whose heart was beautiful and kind. "I love you so much," you managed to splutter out.

Sensing the oncoming tears, Jeno bent his knees a little so that he was eye-level with you. "Hey, don't cry, I love you too," he spoke, his smile now reaching his eyes, turning them into the little crescent moon that you adored so much. "You make me happy, and that's more than enough for me. Is that enough for you?"

You nodded. "All I ever want is for you to be happy, Jeno."

He visibly relaxed at this, and gone was the solemn atmosphere that once lingered in the air. "That's settled then. You're not getting rid of me that easily because you want me happy and I'm the happiest when I'm with you. So, will you lie down on the bed for me now?"

Tilting your head, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "Why?"

"I still need to show you how beautiful you are to me and I don't think words are gonna cut it."

"Lee Jeno!"

♡

[songmingisthighs]

[9.55] mafia!wooyoung × reader

⇀ good thing you're smart, if not Wooyoung wouldn't have a whole attitude change

⇁ tw : violence, torture, kindapping, mafia life

⇁ part 1 / 2 / 3

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author's imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

You don't remember how long it has been since they captured you. Being stuck in a basement would do that apparently.

Whoever was behind your capture had been torturing you beyond your own imagination. They had starved you, hit you, kicked you, attempted to drown you, tied you in an uncomfortable position every night, and sent in someone to make sure you don't get an ounce of sleep.

All that just to get information on Wooyoung.

Currently, you're being tied to a chair, being once again interrogated for informations you had no clue about, "things would be much easier if you'd just give us what we want," the buff man in front of you said, he held a knife to your cheek but at this point you couldn't even flinch, "where is Jung Wooyoung's headquarters?"

Your cold outfit was clinging onto you like second skin, it's uncomfortable and it's dirty, the cold had definitely impacted your health.

Recently all you've been able to feel is just the headache and the burn from inside your body. Not even the abuse given to you was able to inflict you pain.

Everything's just numb.

You look up at the man, almost with a challenging look as you press your face daringly to the blade, "I. Don't. Know." you spat each word like venom.

The man laughed, pretty amused at how daring you are being, "you're his wife, there is no way you wouldn't have known," you rolled your eyes at him, bitter that he used the word 'wife' because you know fully well that Wooyoung would never treat you as such, "then I must've not been his wife now, am I?" You retorted back at him, slightly shocking him because this is the first time within the (apparently) 7 days you've been captured that you had said something else other than 'I don't know' or 'fuck you'.

Everyone was startled at the revelation, they probably hadn't concidered that you might not be Wooyoung's wife. No one really know about Wooyoung's personal life, it seems.

Seeing their hesitance, you take this as your chance of escaping.

The buff man grab your hair harshly, his eyes narrowing at you in suspicion, "don't lie to me, whore, if you're not his wife, then why'd you have a wedding ring on?" "Stole it from my mistress before I ran away, needed the money," you lied easily, surprising yourself.

"And why are you wearing it?" He asked again, "to make it less inconspicuous, people need to believe that this belongs to me or else they'll alert the cops that I'm a thief,"

He seemed to be having an inner turmoil on whether or not he should believe you.

With how you've been acting and the lack of evidence that you are Wooyoung's wife, you could really have been the wrong target.

"That means Handong lied to us," he said as he push your head away, talking to one of the men next to him, "bring him in and get this bitch out," he said simply before turning back to leave.

But before he walked out of the room, he looked back once more at you with a bitter smirk, "make sure to... deal... with her first, insurance for your silence,"

When the doors closed, 5 men approach your figure, still tied on the chair.

One of them crouch down in front of you, he brush your hair out of your face with a sad smile, "I'm sorry that we have to do this, pretty girl," confused at what he said, you just stared at him. But then he suddenly slap you so hard that you fell down along with the chair you're tied to.

And thus began one of the longest night of your life.

Meanwhile Wooyoung was getting antsy. His men couldn't find you anywhere and there isn't a second when he didn't regret turning his abundance of cctv off

He spent his days either in meetings or trying to track your whereabouts. San had to step in and actually force him to eat, going as far as cuffing him to his chair and spoon-fed him, even throwing a cheesy "would (Y/N) be happy to see you in this state?" At him to which he replied, "considering how I treat her, I wouldn't be surprised if she is,"

So far, neither yours nor his parents were aware of your disappearance. His dad only asked about you once to ensure he still has leverage, which of course Wooyoung lied, he's already stressed over your disappearance the last thing he need is for his dad to bit his head off.

Each night he spent sleeping in his bedroom, moping to the fact that he genuinely misses and worried about you. He regret taking you for granted, taking your presence for granted. Now, he could only imagine your sleeping form next to him using the memories of when he actually slept in bed with you. He used to be able to feel your warmth next to him, now it's just cold and he dislike it.

Tonight was no different. Before he got into bed, he went to the walk-in closet and look at all the dresses he had brought you to events that you went to (re : events he was forced brought you because his parents would be there). He remembered every how you looked in every single one of them.

It's pathetic of him, to be pining over the woman he claimed to have no care about.

Just as he turned the walk-in closet's lights off, there were commotions from downstairs, then a huge bang like his front doors had been barged open.

Diving into his instincts, Wooyoung grabbed the nearest gun he had hid all around the room and ran out, thinking that it was a raid by his rivals.

But when he looked down from the second floor to the living room, his heart wrenched and he froze.

San had you in his arms, you looked sickly pale with bruises all over your exposed arms and legs, clothes had chunks of them torn, and you weren't moving. One would assume that you're dead.

Wooyoung dropped his gun and ran to his friend who had just put you on the couch.

The sight of you looking so broken panicked him. He wanted to hold you and be glad that you're home, but he doesn't wanna hurt you. He wanted to tell you how sorry he is and that he'll make up to you but he's not sure whether or not you're still alive.

He snapped his head towards his staff, "call the doctor! Call Kang Yeosang in!" He barked to which his staffs immediately obeyed, scrambling to do as he ordered.

"God, baby, who did this to you?" He muttered to himself, reaching forward to brush your hair out of your face.

You stirred a bit when you heard his voice ans managed to open your eyes despite the splitting headache and the soreness all over your body.

When your eyes met his, you smiled, "hey, what are you doing in my dreams?" You croaked out, throat obviously sore and beyond parched from having been denied fluids for so long. It was your turn to brush his bangs from his eyes, something you've always wanted to do but know never could considering his dislike that turned out to be hatred towards you.

You suddenly frown at him, making his gaze on you softer, "I'm sorry," you muttered, not able to speak louder. At that, he tilted his head, "for what?" "Not being able to stay gone, I had to had the will to live, I should've let them kill me," you said before you slip into unconsciousness, rendering Wooyoung speechless at your words.

Before he was able to retaliate, San had swoop you back into his arms to take you to an empty room so Yeosang could come in and treat you.

"No," Wooyoung called, stopping San in his tracks, "bring her to my- our room, she should feel comfortable," to which San just nodded and obey, knowing how important it is to have you next to him as much as him next to you.

Yeosang came in not long after and spent 3 hours cleaning and stitching your wounds, checking for possible internal injuries, all the while making sure he's handling you with the utmost care as Wooyoung had been glaring daggers at him. Whether it serve to be a warning to not harm you or a sign of jealousy as Yeosang had a perfectly valid reason to cut your shirt and shorts off for handling.

"I can't make a clear diagnosis without checking for internal injuries, we have to take her to the hospital," Yeosang said. But Wooyoung just snap at him, "then freaking bring the machines here! She's not leaving this mansion and she's not leaving my side!"

Both men just stared at each other for a few minutes, Yeosang holding onto his ground on wanting simplicity, and Wooyoung being afraid of losing you from his sight again.

Knowing how stubborn his friend can be, Yeosang was first to crack, sighing and nodding at Wooyoung, "I'll see what I can do," he said simply before going out to talk to San about possibly transporting some of his machines.

The rest of the night, Wooyoung took care of you. He had put you in one of his large, white button up because it's the easiest to put on you. He stayed by your side in a chair, afraid that he might hurt you (than he already necessary does with his words) if he were to slip in bed with you.

As he watch you, his hands moved to held yours in his. His thumbs were rubbing the back of your hand when it suddenly caught on something.

Looking down, he noticed that it's your wedding ring, matching his own which he's wearing.

It brought a smile to his face seeing you're still holding onto it so dearly. You could've left it for him to find and throw away the day you left, but you had decided to take it with you.

Could it be that despite everything he's done to you, you don't want to completely erase him from your mind?

And that's what made Wooyoung broke down and cried.

He didn't deserve you, not one bit. But despite that, he knows that he's the only one capable enough of taking care of you, to provide for whatever it is that you need.

So at that moment, with you back in hia arms, he decided to step up and assume his responsibilities and treat you as how you deserve to be treated.

[nnightskiess]

𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝

₊° 𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 (𝐲/𝐧), 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬. 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐜, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥...

𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐱

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

for my great friend lux @redhairedwolfwitch ♡ thank you for everything.

"Hey, you paged us?"

Cristina tilted her head, curious, while you stood behind her, wondering if you were in trouble if the Chief needed you.

"I know you're both most interested in cardio, so..." He motioned the two of you two follow him until your pager went off.

"Shit," You mumbled under your breath, staying slightly behind as you heard Cristina gush about the cardiac trauma Hunt showed her, "I gotta run, Robbins needs me, a complication in the NICU."

"Come on?! Cardiac trauma!" Cristina turned to you, the look on her face saying enough. But you had already started to walk away, putting a spanner in the works of the plan the universe had in store for you.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

"Doctor Bailey!" You rushed after her, wanting to catch up with her and show her the results of the CT she needed, until Cristina appeared out of nowhere, seeming frustrated.

"The new attending doesn't even know how to put in a temporary pacemaker!"

They came to a halt at the nurse's station as you hovered next to Cristina, waiting your turn.

You tilted your head, "Wait- we have a new attending?"

"Did you or did you not ask this man for a new cardio attending?"

"Yes."

"And did he or did he not bring in attending after attending, none of them who seem to please you and all of whom you ran off?" Bailey gave Cristina a look, one that made you have to bite your lip so you wouldn't laugh. Doctor Bailey had her cornered, and rightly so.

"That is not a fair assessment." Cristina bluntly replied.

"Doctor Yang, has it ever occurred to you that you might be the problem? Right, leave this man alone. Go torture the new attending. (Y/S/N), you got the results?"

You passed the results over, leaving as soon as Bailey waved you off, so you could go on your way to pester Cristina.

"So... why is the new cardio attending not to your liking this time?" Cristina rolled her eyes and groaned as she heard the teasing in your voice. You followed her, ignoring the annoyed look on her face, "Let me guess... weird hairdo that keeps distracting you? Bad breath? Silly walk? Or are they just not at your level?" You air quoted, making Cristina stop to stare at you before she continued her walk, but you knew she would talk after that.

"She might have been it once, but oh no, not anymore. She made me put in a temporary transvenous pacemaker because she hadn't done it in ages."

You grimace, having to admit how bad it sounded that a cardio attending didn't know how to., "At least she admitted it?"

Your comment went completely over Cristina's head, who was still fed up with the situation, "She's inexperienced, inadequate and is definitely not a cardio goddess. She's a desert storm barbie, who hasn't seen the inside of an OR in like 10 years. Owen was wrong to bring her here."

"Well... you've used up your three wishes and Webber and Bailey are done with your complaints... so I think you're gonna be stuck with her."

Cristina let her head fall back and let out the biggest groan before turning into another hallway, leaving you to shake your head as you walked to the lifts.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

"So, what do you think of the new cardio attending? Excited to learn from her?" Arizona draped her stethoscope around her neck, following you out of the room.

"I can't say, haven't met her yet... but Cristina seems to be really happy with her."

Arizona raised an eyebrow before she saw the look on your face.

"Oh, yeah, I heard. Wait-" Arizona looked at her pager, "Hm... speaking of the devil, Yang paged me. Walk with me?" She squeezed your arm, hoping you'd follow her.

You briefly caught up with your friend as you walked through the hospital. Jackson and Cristina were standing around a hospital bed, but before the two of you could approach, Arizona's pager went off once more,

"Hm... can you inform the parents of one of our preemie babies of his vitals? They're going home and would like to hear everything's still alright before they leave. Check his vitals with them in the room or they're not going to want to leave. They're persistent, but they're good parents. " Arizona gave you a soft smile as you nodded and grinned, doing as she told, not seeing the other blonde approaching Arizona behind you as you walked away.

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You were leaning against the wall, waiting for Arizona to finish up since she was your ride home, when a happy Cristina all but skidded out of the resident's lounge.

"You're being weird. What's gotten you so happy?" You noted as Cristina's frown from that morning had turned into a wide grin.

"Guess who did a Takeuchi repair today?"

"You did not!?" You gasped and stood up straight, your full attention now on Cristina.

"Uh, not all by myself. But she did let me do the coronary artery anastomosis."

You raised your eyebrows, still surprised. Cristina was a great resident, but that was a big shot surgery, even for her. "Damn, are you taking back your words about her now?"

"Yeah, probably. Which means-" She turned serious again, pointing a finger at you, "The games have begun." She let out another ecstatic laugh before walking off, letting you know you would have to step up and fight to get hours on cardio with the new attending.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

You walked into the lifts the next morning, the coffee Arizona had gotten you in one hand, the charts of the nightshift in the other. You only had five minutes to read them all and then inform your attending of the day of any changes. But with the coffee in your system, you knew you could do this.

You skimmed the first few pages of one of the charts as other people hurried into the lift right as the doors closed. A few floors later, you knew it was your turn to step out when the doors opened. Not wanting to waste any time, you kept your head low to read the charts, but you had to look up and stop when someone crossed your path- quite literally.

A woman hurried by, apologising to people left and right as she rushed through them. Though she had been fast, you had not failed to catch a glimpse of the face that you once so adored.

Teddy Altman.

She hadn't seen you, probably because your nose had been buried in the charts, or because she had been in a rush. You watched her disappear through the double doors towards the OR's and that's when it clicked. Teddy, your old friend from back in New York, the same Teddy that was in love with cardio, was the new cardio attending Cristina suddenly seemed to be gushing about.

You ditched your coffee somewhere, your body suddenly being filled with nerves and stress. It had been years seen you'd seen her. Ever since your mutual friend Allison had passed away on that damned day, you had lost contact with Teddy. Almost as if she had disappeared. Just like that. No note, no phone call, no goodbye. Maybe it had been for the best. The abrupt ending to your friendship had helped you get rid of the wish that it would ever become something more. Teddy was gone, and so were the feelings you had secretly been harbouring inside. But seeing her now... It overwhelmed you how only a glimpse of her could bring back the crapload of memories the two of you had shared. You slipped into one of the vacant seats in the waiting room, clutching the charts against your chest.

"No sitting, (Y/S/N), you've only just started your day. Let's go! We've got jobs to do. Chop-chop!" Bailey walked by, gesturing for you to get up and go.

You stood up, took the deepest breath and made a promise to yourself-

It's been years. You changed. You were no longer the EMT Teddy used to know. You took great pride in the fact you had grown, as a person and as a doctor. You were a resident now. Besides, for all you knew, Teddy didn't want anything to do with you anymore. She must have changed too. Besides, who knows what happened to her after you lost each other.

Teddy might be back, but your feelings were long gone.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

You walked into the cafeteria, talking with some of the Mercy West residents as you grabbed your lunch, placing it on the tray in front of you. You rolled your eyes as they started to gossip, happy you had your food so you could walk away from that. Shaking your head, you turned around to scan the cafeteria, your eyes landing on Arizona's, who waved you over. You froze in your spot as you saw the back of Teddy's head, who was seated at the same table. Without thinking, you turned around and left the cafeteria in a hurry, the tray still in your hands. You hoped you had been fast enough before Teddy could have seen who Arizona had waved to.

Facing Teddy was not on your to-do list any time soon.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

You had successfully managed to avoid running into your old friend all day, rather doing scut or helping out in the clinic than scrubbing in or helping with consults. Anything to stay out of Teddy's way.

"So, will you tell me why you ran like a chicken earlier today?" Arizona wore a playful smile as she from the doorway how you were grabbing your things.

"Um-" You shuffled some things around in your locker, trying to stall coming up with an answer. Arizona was one of your best friends and already knew whatever you would say would be a complete lie, "Stomach ache. Needed a toilet."

Arizona nodded her head, her playful grin not disappearing, "Yeah... I usually like my lunch with some nice sound effects and extra stench too."

"Wha-," You stopped to turn around, "I did not eat my lunch in a toilet."

Arizona shrugged noncommittally, going to the next topic, "Had fun removing haemorrhoids at the clinic today?"

You sighed defeatedly and pushed your jacket in your bag, glaring at Arizona, who was having way too much fun with this.

"Fine. I ate lunch in a toilet cubicle and helped out at the clinic today. What's wrong with that? They need all the help they can get."

"Meanwhile you could've scrubbed in with Doctor Altman and I. She let Yang fix the kid's Alcapa. Could've been you." She shrugged.

She patted your back as you passed her out of the lounge, letting out a groan at the missed opportunity. You clung your bag over your shoulder, greeting colleagues left and right, trying to play it off, but knowing Arizona was following close behind.

"Nice try," Arizona whispered in your ear as you waited for the lifts to arrive.

You sighed and turned around, about to shoot back a witty reply to wash the grin away from your friend's face, until you saw Teddy round the corner into the hallway, coming your way while she talked to an intern. The lifts dinged behind you, but you quickly pulled Arizona away, pushing her into the door that led to the staircases.

"Okay- wait, what just happened?" Arizona let out a breathy chuckle, her eyebrows raised as she tried to decipher what was going on in your head.

"We're taking the stairs down today! Let's go, I haven't reached my 10k steps yet!" You were already walking down, leaving Arizona to look back, thinking she might have missed something, until she eventually followed.

"Okay, tell me what's going on because you've been incredibly weird, all day long." Arizona stopped you when you were about to walk out of the hospital. You looked her in the eyes, seeing the genuine concern.

"Doctor Robbins!" You shut your eyes at the familiar voice and quickly turned around, slipping into the gift store unnoticed, still in hearing distance,

"I wanted to give you this for the follow-up surgery but you left so quickly." Teddy smiled softly, watching how Arizona looked around, noticing you had dipped, "Just read through it at home and we can discuss tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah! Sure! Thanks." Arizona's eyes fell on the back of your head as you tried to distract yourself by looking at the many different postcards of Seattle.

Teddy furrowed her eyebrows slightly, "Um... okay, well, we'll talk tomorrow."

"Sure thing!"

You waited until Teddy had disappeared into the lift again before stepping out from behind the rack, Arizona immediately pulling you out of the gift shop, her mouth agape as she watched with excitement, "You are crushing on Doctor Altman!"

"What? No!"

"What else can it be? That's why you've been avoiding every place she's at like the plague. I knew you would like her, but I didn't know you would like her this much." She raised her eyebrows suggestively, the grin on her face only widening as you sighed and walked out of the hospital.

"I'm not crushing on her. I haven't even met her yet. I'm just... shy... to meet new people. I need more time."

Arizona snorted as she followed you to her car, "Yeah, sure, that's it." But she grew serious when she saw the conflict in your eyes, "You know you can tell me, right? Anything. I don't judge."

You turned in your seat, it was clear you were battling thoughts in your head. You let yourself fall back against the seat as you sighed,

"I don't want Teddy to see me. Not yet, at least."

Arizona rose an eyebrow, silently telling you she needed more information if you wanted her to understand.

"We knew each other. Back in New York."

Arizona nodded slowly, knowing about your life as an EMT in the Big Apple, "Did you fall out? Did you fight? What happened?"

"That's the thing- I don't know. One day we were friends, the next... she was gone? This is the first time I've seen her since 2001 and... I don't know, it threw me off. I don't know what to do or say now."

"She hasn't seen you yet?"

You shrugged, "No, I don't think so. Not that I know."

"Well, were you great friends before she left?"

"You could say that. I just-" You stopped yourself, sneaking a glance at Arizona, who looked back at you with an encouraging smile, "Oh God- okay... I just always feared I might have scared her away?"

Arizona pursed her lips before hearing what you rambled out next, "I had like, the biggest crush on her and for a while, I thought she had one on me too until I realised she was like that with our mutual friend Allison too and-"

"Doctor Altman likes girls?!" Arizona gasped, intrigue written on her face. You quickly shut her down, not wanting to start the spread of another rumour in the hospital,

"No?! I don't know! I don't think so. No."

You sat in silence for a while until Arizona opened her mouth, "Well, I think it would be best if you just rip the band-aid off tomorrow. I don't think she'd appreciate finding out you avoided her for as long as you could. It's probably going to be awkward either way."

You nodded softly, knowing Arizona was right, "Will you help me?"

"Pfff, of course! I got your back." She smiled at you as she drove out of the car park.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

You kept yourself busy by alternating between buttoning and unbuttoning your lab coat and fixing your hair, wanting to look presentable since Teddy hadn't seen you in years. It was silly, how you hadn't been able to let go of the nervous habits you had whenever you'd be around her. But the worry Teddy would be disappointed to see you again made it worse this time.

"Stop that, you look great." Arizona smiled encouragingly and fixed your collar as you started to play with your fingers instead, needing something to try and keep your nerves under control.

"Ready?" She asked you as she stopped in front of the room Teddy had paged her to. You gave her a curt nod and took in a breath as she opened the door, revealing Teddy who was looking at the whiteboard in front of her.

"Doctor Altman, I brought a resident who's gonna help me with this case. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all! I went ahead and-" She stopped midsentence when she turned around, her eyes locking with yours. Sure, you had changed over the years, but you knew Teddy would recognize you in an instant.

"(Y/N)?" She breathed out, her face going from confusion to shock to excitement in just a few seconds.

"Oh my God, it's really you?" She walked up to you, her arms open to welcome you in a hug. Teddy let out an awkward chuckle as she noticed you didn't move a muscle, but she slowly and unsurely wrapped her arms around you when you took a hesitant step forward.

"It's so good to see you again! How- I- What?!" She smiled and rubbed her cheeks, trying to wrap her head around the fact you were standing in front of her, and trying to stop herself from panicking. "You left New York? When? You're a resident now!?"

"It's been years, a lot can happen." You squeezed your fingers behind your back, realising how harsh it sounded, no matter how much she deserved the cold shoulder. You just wanted to get this over with.

Teddy's smile faltered, but only momentarily, before her eyes filled with glee again, "So- what's happening? What's new? How did you get here? Are you.... third year? Or-"

"I love this little reunion but maybe it's best we focus on the surgery now...We've got little time." Arizona butted in with an apologetic smile, seeing you needed a breather.

"Yes! Of course, apologies." Teddy turned back to you, her face unreadable, but her gut wrenched with the guilt she suddenly felt. Your eyes said it all.

"We...um, should catch up later." She spoke before she quickly turned to face the whiteboard again, muttering something under her breath, hoping to be able to mask her panic in the next few hours of you two working together.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

"Go!" Arizona mumbled out, bumping your hip when you stopped, seeing she was gesturing to Teddy waiting in line. "Go break the ice!"

"I thought I already did that this morning?!" You whisper-yelled back but was pushed forward by your friend.

"Oh- hi!" You shot her a wry smile, albeit awkwardly, as Teddy turned around. "Want to...um... eat lunch outside with me? Catch up? It snowed last night and uh, I know you used to love-"

But you stopped as you saw Teddy nod and smile, "I'd like that."

"So, Seattle, huh?" Teddy started once you had found a vacant bench outside the hospital. "I thought you said you could never see yourself leaving New York?"

"Yeah, well, I got the opportunity to do my residency here... I wanted to start fresh, and New York isn't what it's been after-" You stopped, noticing how Teddy tensed. She took her time eating her sandwich, stalling an answer before she eventually had to speak.

"It's good to see you ended up where you wanted to be. Seems like all those times I helped you study for med school weren't in vain." She smiled with her eyes as she took another quick bite of her lunch. She tried so hard to read your energy, but you seemed closed off.

"Don't get me wrong, I loved being an EMT, but this is good. This is great. I'm happy now. This is the right path for me."

Teddy gave you a soft smile as she truly took you in for the first time, daring to stare at your side profile now that you were focused on your own lunch. You wore your hair differently now, your face looked a bit more mature and you also seemed more reserved, but maybe that just had to do with the awkward tension still floating between you two. Your eyes though, still gave her the same comfort, even if she had lost the ability to read them, apparently.

"What's it going to be? You got your eyes set on a specialty already?"

You nodded while taking a sip of your drink, "Cardio or peds... though I sometimes like to dabble in neuro."

Teddy let out a breathy chuckle, "Ha! Knew it! I recognized the light in your eyes every time I helped you study cardio cases."

"Well, you made it fun. It was hard not to like it by the way you explained it. You seemed passionate about it so of course, I would try to feel the same way."

She nodded to herself, the corner of her lip curling up slightly before she changed the subject, "Where were you on Monday? Doctor Robbins and I did an alcapa surgery together, you would have loved that. Would have been the perfect match for you."

"Oh, um, I don't know, I think I was helping in the pit all day? It was a busy day." Deciding to change the subject once more, you opened your mouth again, "Where did you end up? You left but never said anything, I was worried for weeks until I eventually had to let it go."

Teddy stopped and put her lunch down, "I joined the army..." she watched closely as you raised your eyebrows in surprise, "Almost immediately after... That's were I met Hunt and that's how I got here."

You nodded softly, trying to put it all into place in your head. She obviously gave you the short explanation, as she had left out years of details. But you figured she did so for a reason, and you respected her decision.

"Wasn't I worth a goodbye though?" You chuckled dryly, half joking, half serious.

"God- no, I mean yes! Of course! You deserved an explanation, that's on me, I just... had to go. I couldn't breathe. I hadn't been in a right state of mind for a while, especially after my parents passed away... and then Allison..."

You put your hand on her leg, "Teddy, it's alright, you don't have to explain further. Sorry... I just- All I actually needed to know was if you were still alive. I was dying inside not knowing if you were alright-" You bit the insides of your cheek as Teddy's hand was placed over yours. She sighed and looked out in front of her, her fingers tangling with yours as she squeezed your hand.

"I am so sorry. You deserved a proper farewell."

You nodded, agreeing, but decided to stay silent, sensing that Teddy already knew how bad she had messed up.

"So um, are you staying here? This is not a temporary thing?"

She squeezed your hand again, just to reassure you, even if she felt tortured by all the lost memories and feelings resurfacing,

"Yeah, I plan on staying." She cleared her throat, "Which is why I'm glad we worked this out right now? I mean, we're good, right?"

Thoughts circled through your head while you felt your chest tighten. Having to be around Teddy again would be a challenge, especially seeing how you left things. But you could manage. You were a surgical resident, for heaven's sake, and you were not going to let an old friend from the past ruin anything.

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[thefanficmonster]

What's It To You?

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: To some people, relationship labels aren’t important. To some they aren’t important only in theory. Well, Y/N finds out she falls in the later category, leading to a falling out with her boyfriend Corpse.

Requested by Anon. You’ll know who you are when you read the fic 😉 Thank you for the ‘angsty argument’ request. I hope I captured what you had in mind and I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy 🥰

The time is nearing 7PM and Corpse has barely eaten anything. I always keep track of his meals and time spent in front of a computer screen, making sure he doesn’t spend too much time exhausting his eyes or starving himself. He never notices he’s hungry until he takes a bite of something and his appetite grows in  matter of seconds. The real battle is to get him to take that first bite.

I get up from the couch, walking into the kitchen. I open the fridge, scanning its contents for any ideas that might pop into my head for dinner. When nothing comes to mind, I resort to my last option - asking him. There’s only a slight chance he’ll be of any help. He’ll most likely say he’s not hungry or that he’ll make himself something late. He never does. I’ve gotten used to him being a man-child when it comes to eating. In the eleven months that we’ve been dating, I’ve force fed him more times than he has eaten on his own terms.

I go upstairs, stopping outside the door to his recording room to see if he’s talking to someone so I don’t walk in and interrupt. When no noises come from the inside I knock. 

“Come in.“ 

Upon opening the door, I’m met with Corpse nonchalantly sitting in his desk chair, leaning as back as he can without tipping over. Arms folded behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. The whole nine yards, suggesting that he not streaming.

“Hey.“ He greets me as he turns his chair a bit in an attempt to face me

“Hey, what’d you like for dinner?“ He opens his mouth to reply the millisecond after I have spoken my question. I already know what that reply will be so I hurry to prevent it, “And no, ‘later’ and ‘I’m not hungry’ aren’t on the menu.“

He sighs, shaking his head as though he’s disappointed that I caught onto his game. The smile that slowly makes its way to his lips, however, suggests that he appreciates my concern. “Grilled cheese sandwiches? I mean, if you feel like it.”

I smile, relieved that the usual convincing portion of our interaction on this specific matter has been avoided. “Ok. Be down in fifteen then.” I give him a nod before heading back out into the hallway.

Before I am able to close the door, I hear someone else’s voice come from behind me. “Hey Corpse, was that on your end?”

Oh shit, he wasn’t muted

“Yeah man, sorry. Accidentally unmuted myself.“ Corpse sounds unbothered by this, but I am a little uneasy now.

Corpse and I have agreed to keep our relationship by a ‘won’t ask, won’t tell’ rule - if someone asks him if he’s in a relationship, he won’t lie and say no, but we haven’t gone public nor do we plan on doing so without someone asking us about it head-on. Well, not us. Him. His friends don’t know me and neither do his fans. I’m not in the same industry. I don’t stream nor film YouTube videos. The most I do for that platform is help Corpse with some editing when he needs to have a rest. So, if anyone were to reveal our relationship, it’d be him.

“Oooh, who was that?“ A girl’s voice asks teasingly. “Corpse, what are you not telling us?“

By this point, I’m out in the hall but I left my ears in the room. I know I’m not in the right here - eavesdropping is most definitely not nice, but I can’t help myself.

I hear him chuckle, “Nah, it’s just my friend Y/N.”

My heart drops so suddenly for a reason beyond my understanding. I feel like a kid feels when it’s told Santa isn’t real - I can’t believe what I heard. 

I hurry to get back downstairs as soon as possible and also as quietly as I can. It’s tough, running with a pit in your stomach and a knot of I’m pretty sure is tears in your throat. When I’m finally in the kitchen, the aforementioned tears are blurring my vision. I try to blink them away but accidentally send one of them trickling down my cheek.

I’m aware this might be an overreaction and if I stopped to think I could probably find ways to justify what Corpse said. But I’m genuinely hurt, and I hate that I am.

I’ve never cared about what others know about me or think of me. Same goes for my relationships. I don’t put labels on things nor on my connection to people. I am surprised and disturbed by how much the label ‘friends’ bothers me. We’ve been dating for almost a year now, you’d think calling me his girlfriend would be second nature. Guess not.

I swallow the hurt and surprise, deciding to keep myself busy with the preparations for the dinner I was planning to make. However, keeping my hands full and giving my eyes a place to look doesn’t stop my thoughts from eating away at me. 

                                                             * * *

Twenty minutes later the sound of a door opening echoes from upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps going through the hallway and then down the stairs. 

“It smells so good in here.“ He comments, his eyebrows raising when he takes in the freshly made sandwiches on the kitchen island. “You’re the best, Y/N.“

“Hmm, aren’t you lucky you have a friend who knows their way around the kitchen, huh?“ I reply sharply, not even sparing him a glance.

In the twenty minutes I was left alone with my wilding thoughts I declared that I wouldn’t beat around bush when he comes downstairs. That I would address the issue and tell him exactly how I feel about it. What I didn’t plan was being so harsh. I actually barely contain a wince when I realize how sharp of an edge my words had.

I feel ten times more guilty when I see the regret that flashes on his face, “You heard that.” He grips the edges of the table, leaning down and letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

The anger in me evaporates, leaving room for the hurt to keep spreading and take over me. I was never really angry with him, I’m just upset by the fact that his immediate reaction wasn’t to refer to me as his girlfriend. 

“Why would you panic? What’s it to you if they know?“ My voice is barely above a whisper now, the tears I’m fighting back are clogging my throat, not allowing me to sound as clearly as I’d like.

“What’s it to you? I thought you didn’t care.“ He argues back, his gaze travelling from the tabletop to my eyes. I see the guilt in all his features and his body language.

“I thought so too.“ I shake my head, “But hearing you call me a ‘friend’...’just a friend’ stings. I don’t even know why, but it does. It feels almost like you are embarrassed of me. If that’s the case you can just tell me, you know?“

In a blink of an eye he’s crouched down in front of me, one hand holding both of mine while the other cups my cheek. “It’s not. It has never been and it will never be the case. You are one amazing person, Y/N. You deserve the world, not to be stuck with me. I’m just...” He trails off, his eyes not able to focus on mine any longer, “I’m scared of how people knowing about us will affect our relationship.”

My blood starts boiling again. I know I need to get away from him before I reach the point of saying something that’ll hurt him, so I untangle my hands from his grasp, pulling away from him. “Weak excuse, Corpse. You know it will change nothing except make me feel more included in your life. I will no longer feel like I’m a house rat no one knows about.” I stand up, unable to look at him, and start heading for the staircase. 

“Y/N, please! ”I stop dead in my tracks when he calls out my name, his footsteps following behind me. “Don’t be...-”

I turn around, cutting him off in the process, “I need to be alone right now.” I tilt my head in the direction of the dining table, “Sit down and eat dinner. We’ll talk...later.”

                                                             * * *

Now that it’s been almost twelve hours with no contact between us I realize that my reaction was justified only to a certain extent. I understand his concerns and I could’ve expressed mine a little more calmly and in a lot less accusatory manner. But what happened happened and all I can do now is go over to him and apologize, establish a proper communication to resolve the issue that I so stupidly blew out of proportion.

My phone died sometime during the night and has been sitting on the charger but still turned off for a while. I go over to it and press-hold the start button. While it’s powering up I start changing my from my pajamas into my regular clothes, noticing a small stain on my shirt in the process. As I’m examining the stain, my phone starts going crazy with notifications, causing me to jump and drop my shirt.

“Fucking hell.” I mumble, disconnecting my phone from the charger and looking at the huge list of notifications on my lock screen. They are all alerts of new followers, likes and tags, non from people I know. Non except one.

@ corpse_husband tagged you in a post 

Wait what?

I tap the notification which leads me to a picture Corpse posted two hours ago. It’s a picture of me taken in the living room without my knowledge. I’m an oversized sweater and yoga pants, my hair in a messy braid and my attention caught by the book in my hands. My glasses have slipped a bit down my nose, suggesting that I’m too concentrated on the contents of the pages in front of me that I haven’t noticed.

We started off as friends but it didn’t take long for her to become my best friend. And then she stole my heart. I know you’ll read this eventually, Y/N. So...hi. Love you. 

PS - the sandwiches were bomb 🖤

I’m more than caught off guard. Like a surprise hug from behind, warmth spreading all throughout my body. 

Without a second of hesitation I put my phone down and run to the bedroom door. However, I don’t make it very far considering I nearly run straight into Corpse’s chest as I exit the room. He catches me before I knock him straight to the ground, thankfully.

“Aren’t you a rocket this morning. Where are you headed?“ He chuckles, holding onto my upper arms.

One look at his smile, a single word out of his mouth and I’m melting. I walk straight into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, hiding my face in his chest. He comfortably rests his chin on the top of my head, not asking any further questions until I finally answer.

“Right here. I was heading for you.“ I whisper before I pull away enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I was being childish and overdramatic and I’m sorry about all I said. I was really upset.“

“It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry for making you upset in the first place. I understand now how much it means to you.“ He caresses my cheekbone with the back of his hand. “I...um...tried to make things right by...“

I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his, putting an end to his timid stuttering. “I saw it.” I mumble in the kiss.

“Did you like it?“ 

“I loved it.“

“Did you read the comments?“

My heart skips a beat when I hear that dreaded term. Just the thought of reading through the comments terrifies me. I tell myself that some strangers’ words aren’t gonna have an impact on me, but I know they will. Especially since these ‘strangers’ mean so much to Corpse.

I shake my head. He pulls away, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room. “You have to. You’re gonna love them.”

I reluctantly follow him, plopping down on the couch next to him as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the comment section of the picture he posted. He was right. All these people have said such things about me and about our relationship. Some verified names are also there, sharing their support much like the fans. 

“See, this is why I was nervous. I’ll have to do duels for your attention now.“ He glances at me, leaning in and kissing my temple as he sometimes does so impulsively.

“You don’t do duels when you are already sitting at the throne. Right next to me.“ I once again capture his lips with mine, tempted to never pull away, but also tempted to keep reading the comments.

Damn, he might be right about the duels.

He takes his phone from me setting it aside as he slowly lifts me and settles me in his lap, never letting our lips detach.

Nevermind. Fuck the duels

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