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slowpoke123321 · 10 months ago

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The Gerudo King's Bride

(^This is a visual of what Yuga's dress looks like in this chapter btw)

Chapter 2: Introduction

Wolves' howls could be heard outside of the old castle. The moonlit sky shining into the windows and onto an unconscious Yuga, who laid on a ancient red couch. He was no longer in that room with the large man he had accidentally summoned. This should've been a relief for him, but when he woke, it was quite the opposite. He sat up and looked around the dark and dusty room. He could see a bed with carpet sat under it and on the floor. He could also see a wooden vanity against one of the stone walls.

He rubbed the back of his head wearily and mumbled to himself, "Where am I? What..." Yuga's breath caught in his throat as he remembered the events of what happened. He quickly hopped up from the couch and tried to rush to the door. But he stopped in front of the vanity. He stared at himself in amazement. He no longer wore his purple dress from before, but now wore a elegant, dark red dress that spilt at the bottom and showed off the front of his legs. A gorgeous, gold necklace laid on her neck with gold earrings that were shaped like rain drops hung from his pointed ears. A beautiful gold headband with a ruby teardrop jewel in the middle sat gracefully on his soft orange curls. Platform boots with the same deep red color and golden heals were fitting comfortably on his feet. The front of the dress dipped down in a v-shape with two strings of gold keeping is up loosely. His ears burned in embarrassment from how much of his bare chest showed. The sleeves of the dress didn't cover his shoulders and only started near the breast level. And those were loose and wavy too.

But as she was admiring himself in the mirror, he noticed a shimmer on his left hand. He rose an eyebrow before raising his hand closer to his face. His jaw dropped when he saw such a divine gold ring decorated with ruby gems wrapped around his ring finger on his left hand.

He stumbled back from shock. He couldn't believe it. Here he was, in an ancient castle, dressed in clothes that looked like they belonged to a royal. And all this happened after...The painter's body jolted awake from the dazed trance as he realized he forgot all about the man he summoned. By accident of course. How embarrassing it was for him to do such a reckless thing! How absolutely atrocious! Yuga shook his head and then rubbed his temples wearily. With a deep sigh, she walked to the door of the old bedroom to leave the room. He opened the wooden door with a loud creak and stepped cautiously out of the room.

As he walked down the huge and empty hallways, he could see old portraits that were torn hanging on the walls. Claw marks were clear on the pictures, each picture of the same man with aged, dark brown skin and flowing red hair like a flame. A shiver ran down Yuga's back the more he stared at them. He walked further down the hallway. Then, he walked past a very human looking pendulum clock and a human looking candelabra. She tried to just shrug them off and continue walking until she heard the candelabra speak.

"Hello, Madame." Spoke the candelabra with a smirk and a bow, it's flames flickering light onto her face.

Yuga gasped and staggered back from the two human looking objects. The pendulum clock spoke up, elbowing the candelabra in the side,

"Excuse my ignorant friend. Do not be frighten by us, we mean no harm to you."

Yuga covered her mouth and stuttered, "W-What...W-Who are y-you?!"

The candelabra shoved the pendulum clock out of the way and smiled widely at Yuga. It then spoke, "I am Ghirahim!" The pendulum clock then coughed obnoxiously. Ghirahim rolled his eyes and gestured towards the clock. "And this is Vaati," he said with a bored tone.

Vaati bowed and spoke, "We are the servants of this castle. We serve our master, Ganondorf. Who is your, uh....husband."

Then, before Yuga could even bare a response, there was a loud roar from the end of the hallway. The pigish man, apparently known as Ganon was approaching the three quickly. Yuga's eyes widened and his heart raced from such a sight.

Ghirahim chuckled nervously before speaking, "Greetings, master! Vaati and I w-were just introducing ourselves to y-your lovely bride! We-"

"SILENCE," yelled the large man.

Ghirahim and Vaati immediately bowed to him and kept their gazes to the floor. Ganon turned to Yuga and spoke in a rough voice, "My dear wife, let me show you to your room."

He turned and grabbed Ghirahim by the handle. Ganondorf walked in front of Yuga and down a hallway leading to Yuga's new bedroom. Yuga followed behind with her head low, small tears falling from her eyes. Ganon looked over his shoulder to him and her tears, feeling a tinge of guilt.

Ghirahim coughed and whispered to Ganondorf, "Say something to her."

"Huh? Oh." Ganon turned his back to her and spoke hesitantly, "I...hope you like it here." Ghirahim gestured for him to say more, so he continued, "The castle is your home now so you can go anywhere you like, except in the west wing."

Yuga lifted his head up and spoke, curious of the wing he wasn't allowed in, "What's in the west wing?"

Ganondorf quickly turned to her and spoke in a brash tone again, "It's forbidden!"

*******

They arrived at Yuga's new bedroom. Ganondorf opened the door for her and let her walk in. Once Yuga was in her room, Ganon spoke, "Now, if you need anything, my servants will attend you."

Ghirahim whispered in his ear again, "Dinner. Invite her to dinner."

Ganondorf sighed heavily before speaking in a very commanding tone, the opposite of politely inviting, "You will join me for dinner." He quickly added on, "That's not a request!" Before slamming the door shut behind him, leaving Yuga in her room alone.

Yuga gasped and rushed back to the door. He brushed against it sadly. She felt so terrified. So helpless. It was awful. He ran over to the bed and threw himself on it. She sobbed alone in her room on the gloomy night. To call it a room felt wrong. It was more of a cell. Or a cage.

#legend of zelda #loz #ghirahim #yuga #vaati #ganondorf #the gerudo king's bride #chapter 2 #sorry it took so long!

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sopxhiea · 4 years ago

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Rules

Alfie Solomons X Friends with Benefits!Reader

Summary: She’s known as a dancer in a high end club but he’s known her for not so long. She decides the rules, he goes along with them but sometimes, he’s the one making the rules.

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

It’s late.

Late enough to hear the dogs howling in the groggy streets of London as the black sky decorated the horizon. The room was quiet, only the sound of breathing filling the hollow walls of the apartment. The silence wasn’t unusual and it was more than welcomed. The owner wasn’t home, a familiar body was standing in the spacious entrance.

You weren’t home yet.

Feeling the soft material of the lacy undergarment residing around your upper thighs, you looked around to see who was still in the club. It was close to the weekend which meant that it was getting busier than usual. Men were mostly drunk or intoxicated by the movements of the ladies around. There was no one to entertain in the club anymore so you moved towards the interior rooms to get ready to leave.

The space was decorated with mirrors, make up clutter right in front of them as some of the girls packed the last of their garments to leave. The sun would approach soon, sunlight beaming through the groggy city but you hoped to make it home before then. Slowly gathering your stuff and stuffing them all in your bag, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

The club wasn’t the usual, much like you.

It was a place for rich lads, some aristocracy and the kind of men that had to be served in private rooms because of how high they were up in the pyramid scheme. Most of the work you did was talking, some dancing here and there and you were done. Nothing ever got physical since it wasn’t a brothel, but a place for fine entertainment.

The make-up was off, your natural skin color glowing under the countless bulbs that decorated the mirror. The club was mostly empty now, car sounds no longer audible. It was dead silent outside, the hour when the city would be asleep and you’d walk home on your own. It was a treat to say the least.

The cold weather attacked your skin a bit too quickly as you made your way down the street. Your flat wasn’t too far from the club, just perfect distance for a night walk. It was dangerous in the streets, especially for a lady like yourself but you had a gun hidden in your bag and a long needle that held your bun together and you knew your way around both of those tools.

The night seemed quiet as you walked, no sounds of chatter but a few drunken lads from a couple blocks away. You hugged your coat a little tighter and realized that you were less tired than usual.

-----

The inside of the house was quiet, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked through the corridor. Your dresses were on the floor, a couple mugs here and there sitting on the piles of books. He saw a nightgown and your knickers on the floor and decided that you had gone to the club a little later than usual. As far as he was concerned, everything was normal.

The sound of keys jiggling outside the door made him turn towards the entrance and before he knew it, you pushed the door open with a gun in your hand that was pointed at him. Your breathing was even and the gun in your hand didn’t shake in the slightest.

He greeted you with a smile.

You lowered the gun down in a swift motion when you realized who it was. He was wearing his usual smile, broad as he walked towards you with dense eyes. He was wearing the usual attire but his prayer shawl was missing and you realized it was past saturday.

There he was, the handsome stranger.

He wasn’t so much of a stranger really, not since he’d made you chant his name until the sun was down and you had to go to work. He knew the way your body responded, what you liked in the bedroom and just how to kiss you to make you beg.

He didn’t know anything about your family, where you’d spent your childhood or the way you’d silently pray each time you saw a shadow. Alfie didn’t know what meals you cooked, how you liked your tea or anything past your occupation and name and where you lived.

He didn’t need to.

And he wasn’t allowed to.

“What the fuck happened to sayin’ ‘ello, pet?” he said with an amused face that you didn’t mirror. You were still a bit tired from work and he never came over afterhours.

Those were the rules.

He was allowed to come anytime before your work and never after you’d just arrived home. He would usually call before and let you know. He wasn’t allowed to buy you things or take you out, even though he’d stayed over a couple times before. You knew limited information and about him and he the same, and he wasn’t allowed to break any of the rules.

“Sorry. I’m just a little..” you spoke with a soft tone and he could hear the tiredness seeping from your limbs as he took a look at you.

You looked tired but beautiful nevertheless.

Your figure was a bit slumped, the kind of tiredness that came from working too hard and not because he was the one tiring you out. You weren’t wearing any make-up or fancy clothes, it was his favorite version of you. He didn’t like all the make-up you had to wear for the club or the fancy lingerie but he had no say in any of the things you did. You had made that painfully clear for him.

“Ya’ alright?” he asked while walking towards you, voice a little concerned at your state but you were a bit too tired to care.

And you wanted to hug him, really badly.

Alfie was very rough around the edges, far too rude at first sight for any lady but it would take a split second to realize that he wasn’t rude at all, that was just the way he was. He brushed shoulders with gangsters, people of the underworld who had to do dirty things to get food on their table. He had blood in his hands and for a man of his kind, he was a gentle one.

You immediately leaned a bit closer when his hand came into contact with your shoulder.

“Fine.” you nodded, little bits of your hair framing your face and Alfie leaned in even closer, standing right in front of you with his hand on your hip.

“Do you want anythi-” you started speaking in a softer voice than normal and Alfie felt himself melt a little but his eyes didn’t leave yours.

“Nah,’m fine, pet.” he said, in a low whisper. He was very gentle at that moment, almost like in a daze.

He had met you in a very unusual way.

You had crashed into him, face on his chest one day when you were out buying groceries. The flowers in your hand were crushed when you bumped into him and he had no time to apologize before you’d started screaming at him for being so careless. He’d listened you shout while thinking about how lovely you were and then asked you out for tea that very same day.

You had said yes and then somehow ended up on his bed. You’d left without saying goodbye but then bumped into him a couple weeks later. He had talked charmingly the whole time and then it happened again, again and then once more before you established some rules so that he didn’t think this was more than a stress relief situation.

“What are you-” you started talking again with his face closer to yours but he interrupted you soon, speaking softly against your irritated face.

“I had a fuckin’ job, right, jus’ around the fuckin’ corner so I figured..” he spoke but trailed off with a smile and you finished it for him.

“So you figured you’d have a quick fuck-” your smile was less evident as you looked at him while speaking.

“A visit, lass. A fuckin’ visit is what ‘m here for, innit.” he said, interrupting you once more and he saw your blood boil which only aroused him.

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.” your voice was stern as you looked up at the man. He was twice your size yet you did all the ordering around.

He didn’t mind.

He had been with his share of women, mostly in brothels but he’d usually leave out that part. He loved women, that was a given but he had never grown fond of one before. You had seem like the polar opposite of him when you’d first met and all that did was to draw him even further. He didn’t like the warmth that spread through his chest when he saw you, it made him feel young and defenseless again.

“Sorry, pet.” he said, face even closer to yours now. You knew what he was here for but it didn’t fit the rules, you had no problem sending him home.

“You came here for what?” you spoke against his lips, not kissing him just yet but simply teasing. He was a sucker for that.

He smiled when your fingers caressed his cheek and your lips almost touched his. He wasn’t here for a fuck this time, he had simply dropped off. He had business around the corner with a butcher’s shop that was causing him some trouble and realized that you’d be home soon.

He also wanted to ask you a question but that would come later.

“To see ya’.” he said, simple as that while your lips ghosted over his. Your eyes were locked into his and he didn’t seem to be lying from the way his face relaxed.

“Hm.” you said, humming before you leaned closer to plan your lips on his.

The kiss was slow, not the usual teeth against teeth you had with him. His hands were on your waist while yours resided on his chest and cheek. He was savoring the moment since this was rare with you, very rare. You wanted some relief on most days and that’s when you’d see him, not when you wanted a hug or a small chat.

But you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

You broke the kiss, a bit hesitant at first while staring at his lips. He was searching for your eyes when you parted but you wouldn’t look with the fear of him catching something in there. You slowly walked away from him, taking your long coat off and throwing it on the sofa. The house was a mess but that was the usual. All you and Alfie did was fuck anyway so the only place he would be concerned with was the bed.

You sat down on the chair in the corner of the room and looked at him, standing near the entrance with his broad form. He was here for something, you could tell but he wasn’t so keen on giving it to you. It wasn’t like you were dying to know but Alfie was not someone who’d usually ask for anything, let alone anything from you.

All he would ask was a fuck and that was the arrangement.

“You’re gonna talk?” you said, watching as he made his way to the corner you were sitting on and sat on the sofa next to you.

He didn’t speak for a while. His hand tugged at his beard while he looked at you, lost in thought. He wasn’t really looking at you but through you, which was unusual considering he was one of the first people to ever see you for who you were. You didn’t like to think about it, he was good in bed and that’s all you were concerned with.

“Ya’ hear what’s goin’ on in these fuckin’ streets?” he asked, head motioning outside for a split second before he directed all his attention to you again.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you spoke, not a care in the world as he looked at you. “Seeing as I arrive home at this hour, no.” you said, eyes searching for his for a second before finding them.

He seemed uneasy.

“There is a fuckin’ war, yeah, a dangerous one, lass and it ain’t gonna look pretty for ya’ when they realize ya’ fuckin’ know me.” he said, measuring each and every word.

You didn’t know why he cared.

In your eyes, you were just a woman he fucked. There were no strings, no seeing each other romantically or any kind of involvement. You weren’t his, not by any means and he wasn’t yours. You’d speak to him if you saw him outside but there was no other involvement other than being with each other for stress relief. For all you knew, he was still making regular visits to the brothel.

But he wasn’t.

He had stopped right after he had first met you. He still had his needs but you were more than capable of taking care of him if he were to knock on your door. He knew the rules, was very well aware of the lines you’d drawn for him but he’d still protect you. Not because you were his fuckbuddy but because he genuinely cared about your wellbeing, even if that wasn’t allowed.

You smiled at him at first, almost felt like he was mocking you. Why did he care? You tilted your head to the side and spoke with an amused voice as he looked at you with concern in his eyes, not something you were used to seeing. He still listened as you spoke. “Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

He shook his head with an amused chuckle. You really had no idea. The Italians didn’t know of you yet but if they followed Alfie enough times, they could easily make out the equation. He looked at your still form for a moment and spoke, saying what he’d been wanting to say since he arrived and you saw the weight being lifted off his shoulders.

“I can fuckin’ protect ya’, pet, if ya’ come live near me, that is.” he said, word by word and he saw your face change.

It was absurd.

“No.” you said, not even taking a minute to think about it as you looked at him. Before he said anything else, you spoke up again with a shaking head. You were still seated, less angry than he’d expect you to be. “I can’t move away from work and I don’t even know how to find another apartment at this time.” you spoke, voicing all your concerns.

He was a gangster and knew the ropes better than you so you opted on trusting him. If it turned out to be a mistake, you would blame it all on him but you didn’t want to get killed because you’d been fucking some bloke. Except that he wasn’t some bloke and he had his own gang.

“I got that figured ou’, I did, yeah.” he spoke to you while leaning back on the sofa. You looked at him with a curious expression. He was amused at it for a second before speaking up again, hand tugging at his beard. “I got ya’ a fuckin’ place of yer own, near where I fuckin’ live, pet...” he said and watched your eyes burn.

Who did he think he was?

The rules were clear and your blood was boiling because this man was breaking every one of them. He wouldn’t care if you were dead, you had thought but the more he spoke, the more you changed your mind. He had already taken care of everything without even asking you and he heard you scoff while his words still filled your ear.

“I’ll have one of the lads to fuckin’ drive you..” he said, done with what he was saying and you snapped back immediately.

“You’ll have someone drive me in the evening and pick me up at 4 in the morning from a gentlemen’s club?” you spoke, eyes stern as they bore into his.

He just nodded.

You scoffed once more and got up, hand on your hip as you paced through the room. He just watched. He could see the questions forming as you looked at him every now and then as you paced. There was a look of panic in your eyes as you walked through the corridors and realized that he was probably right at having you move, you could easily be killed. Even if you weren’t seeing him, it was common for someone to be killed just because they were living in a dangerous area.

“Will they kill me?” you said, and spoke once more before he could answer. “If I don’t move, I mean..... Will I die?” you said, eyes wide with confusion and panic.

So he spoke up almost immediately, not liking your frantic eyes as he was used to seeing your calm features after a good fuck. “I won’t have that fuckin’ happen-”

“But If I refuse to move?” you said, waiting for him to properly answer the question with hand on your hip. He knew you were measuring all the possibilities.

“I ain’t gonna lie to ya’, pet, ‘s very possible, it ‘s.” he said while looking at you. He was still sitting in front of you.

He watched you nod.

This didn’t change anything in your eyes. It wouldn’t mean that you were dependent on him or that he would have any power over you. You’d just be protected and the chances of you getting killed because of him would decrease. You measured it all in your mind and realized that it was probably for the best.

“Fine.”

------

His movements were fast, feral almost as his skin came into contact with yours every other second. The bed creaked, not too loud while your panting filled the room. Hands holding onto him by the shoulders, you let out a shaky exhale when he adjusted the angle. His hair was messy as it fell on his forehead, moving each time he thrusted into you.

“Fuck.” you whispered against his lips when he started moving faster, hand on his back and neck while his remained on your waist.

He groaned against your neck with each movement, holding your legs up on his knees in the process. A thin layer of sweat was apparent on your skin even though it was freezing outside. You watched him lift his head, facial expression covered in bliss while the morning light hit his face.

It had been a week since you’d moved into the apartment and 4 of those days had been spent with you and him testing the new bed. You had gotten a new one for yourself and he’d joked about how you’d have to break into it so that it was comfortable and you had given him one look and there you were, four days later with your legs wrapped around him.

Your back arched off the bed the faster he became and he was soon becoming erratic, gasping for air and you felt your body slowly tense and give in. Your hands dug into his back as he moved, reaching his climax soon after. He stayed like that for a while while you regained your breath, feeling your body grow tired with each passing hour. You swallowed as he slid out of you and collapsed next to you on the bed.

The rules were still in place.

You stared at the ceiling while he stared at you while laying on his stomach next to you. Your hair was messy, the tie no longer holding it together and tangles here and there. He watched your heaving chest, breath a little lost as you locked your lips.

And then you turned to him.

His eyes had already been on you but you hadn’t realized. He was staring, not gawking but looking with some sort of softness in his gaze. You didn’t smile as you inspected him and the way he was looking at you. You didn’t do the same to him, feeling yourself grow a bit too uneasy at the feeling of being watched.

And if you looked for too long, you were afraid you’d get lost.

Slowly lifting your body off of the mattress and sitting next to him, you came to realize that most of your lower body had gotten sore in between days of tidying and arranging the new flat and Alfie not wasting a second to get you alone so that he could spend the rest of the day tiring you out even further.

He watched your hair fall across your back when you got up, messy from the events that had just taken place. You were not wearing anything so you grabbed your cardigan and wrapped it around your body when you got up. The whole time, he just watched as you moved around your new space.

It already felt like home.

He’d spent most of the days either helping you out or making sure that the lads didn’t damage any of the furniture or simply making you pant on the bed. It had been wonderful if he was honest, he wasn’t as angry and there was no feeling of uneasiness in his chest. He still saw dangerous man from day to day but knowing that you’d be home before you left for work, telling the lads how to put the sofa made him feel look forward to the time he’d get to see you.

He didn’t think much of it, or so he convinced himself that he didn’t.

“Alfie.” you said, you had been speaking to him but he was in his head so he hadn’t heard.

“Huh, what, luv?” he said, lifting himself off of the mattress and sitting on the soft material instead.

“You want tea?” you said, licking your lips while standing next to the door’s frame with nothing but a cardigan on.

“Hm.” he said, nodding as he got up to put his pants on. He didn’t dress himself any further even though it was cold outside, he felt warm after laying on the bed with you.

He walked towards the kitchen to see you waiting for the water to boil. You looked at him when he appeared on the door and you gave him a gentle smile which he returned with a warmer heart. He walked next to you while you poured the water in the tea cups and his hand met your hip, squeezing gently.

This was not something you usually did.

In the last week, the lines had become blurred. It was hard to tell what he was to you. He had found you an apartment and had even picked you up in the morning when you were done. You had joked around with him during the ride and he’d even made jokes to make you smile, he had succeeded, too.

You shuddered a little when his lips met the space between your ear. He knew your body like the back of his hand, no matter how much you’d want to deny it. You kept your eyes on the water that was pouring out to the cups but his lips had your attention.

“Alfie, I’m gonna burn myself.” you said, in a breathy voice and he stopped with a smile. You didn’t even see his lips soften but you knew he was smiling.

After putting the tray on the table that resided in the middle of the living room, you sat on the soft chair you had brought from your previous place. He sat on the sofa on the opposite corner while waiting for the tea to cool down. He wanted to say something, it was hanging at the back of his mouth but he couldn’t get the words to come out.

And you so took it upon yourself to make him.

“If you wanna say something, just say it.” you said, almost a whisper but he had heard since the rooms were silent. You wore an annoyed expression that he often saw but it only amused him further.

He wanted to ask you if you’d work today and he already knew the answer.

He didn’t like it, the sticky feeling in his stomach each time you would go to work. He had no say in what you did, either for work or on the daily and he knew that but it only stirred him further. There was the fear of you getting hurt but he knew you were more than capable of taking care of yourself.

And then, there was the other issue that wouldn’t leave his mind.

Other men got to see you in fancy lingerie, things that didn’t cover you up all the way and it made him mad. He didn’t quite know why, just that he was annoyed with the whole thing. He wouldn’t say it but you’d see the relief on his face when you’d be back from work or when he’d come to pick you up. He had been fucking you a little more carefully lately, ever since you’d moved in closer to him. He was almost tender, painfully soft with you when you’d let him show you a good time. It wasn’t the animalistic, rough Alfie you were used to but there was complaint, only curiosity.

He didn’t speak, just hand tugging at his beard and you knew he’d wait until the day was over and you’d be back from work to see him still in the same position. “You’ve been in me, Alfie, I won’t get mad.” you spoke, almost sensing the reason for his hesitation and his eyes locked into yours when you were done speaking.

He figured he’d trust your word.

“Yer goin’ to work?” he asked and saw your features change.

You knew why he was asking but that didn’t change anything.

You had a vague idea as to why he had been more gentle with you lately, why he kissed you deeper than usual and why he insisted on giving you hickeys even though you’d told him not to on numerous occasions. He was more touchy, almost always around with the excuse of ‘making sure you were settled in’. You were just a girl but you weren’t stupid.

And this wasn’t something you could allow.

Men got jealous, they got protective and thought they had some sort of power over you the moment you’d become ‘ their girl’. You hated that anyway, being someone’s girl and knowing how dangerous Alfie’s line of business could be, you didn’t see sense in pursuing the possibility of anything happening with the man. You shook your head and he watched you lick your lips before you spoke.

“Yes, I am.” you said nonchalantly, as if you were trying to tell him that no matter how much he’d ask, you still wouldn’t want it. “You don’t need to pick me up.” you said, expressionless as he looked at your standing yet somehow small form. You hugged the cardigan tighter as he spoke, he watched you put some things into space. Things he’d knocked out of its place when he had been feverishly kissing you.

“I fuckin’ will, though.” he said, eyes stern as he looked at your face. You were a little taken aback but no evident sign of surprise.

“You don’t have to.” you said again, agitated with his need to make sure you were alright when all you needed him for was a quick fuck.

It didn’t work like this, not with you so you wouldn’t entertain the chance of being with him.

“I want to, lass, yeah, so I fuckin’ will.” he said one last time before getting up to walk towards you.

He would be jealous, you told yourself. He wouldn’t like the fact that other people were able to see you in such little clothing, you thought and he certainly wouldn’t appreciate the little dances you would give. Sure, he was a good fuck but he was also a cruel gangster and the balance seemed almost even.

Almost.

You walked away the moment his breath his your face and made your way to the bedroom to tidy up. There were clothes on the floor and books everywhere, you grabbed one and put it on the shelf and he was right behind you when you turned back.

“Alfie, move.” you said, not able to penetrate through his large form as he blocked your way.

“Tell me.” he said, finger under your chin as he lifted your face so you were looking at him.

“Tell you what?”

“Why?” his voice was a whisper as he looked at your small form, chin still between his fingers as his eyes bored into yours.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the question as he looked at your face, Why what? you thought. The question had so many ways of ending and yet, only one question popped into your mind.

Why were you still going to work? Why, when he was the one keeping your bed warm?

You didn’t answer, you didn’t know if there was an answer. It would not work, he would be a jealous man, jealous of the other ones that got to see you in work and it would get unbearable like it always would with any relationship you had. You didn’t say anything and walked away, he just watched.

He left soon after that, not a word or a forehead kiss like he’d usually give you. He wasn’t hurt or broken by anything, he was just waiting for you to make up your mind. The words had stirred something in you, he had seen that when you had looked at him. He just needed an answer now.

Laying on the bed as you watched the street lights dance on the ceiling, you realized you had the answer.

But it would put you in a lot of danger.

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Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum

A/n: Hi!! This was something that had been in drafts for a while now so i wanted to post it at last. I hope you enjoyed it and let me know if you’d like another chapter!!

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seokoloqy · 4 years ago

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The Ravenheart Manor

➳ PAIRING(s): ot7 x reader

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, mythical creature!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 4.1K

➳ WARNINGS: aphrodisiacs, suggestive content, more warnings will be added in each chapter

➳ SUMMARY: you’re the new maid at the Ravenheart Manor. Take your chance with each of its peculiar residents (hey, does that one have a tail?) after accidentally ingesting a powerful aphrodisiac that might just kill you if you don’t give in to your burning desires.

➳ A/N: at the end of the story it will be split off into seven different parts. Each of them dedicated to a different member they don’t have to be read in order and they are not connected. Enjoy your descent into monster fucker hell~

—

Rain pours all around you and it only seems to grow stronger the longer you wait at the looming door. You had rapped your knuckles against the ornate door twice now, but the manor is so large you doubt anyone would have heard unless they were lingering next to the door.

Your fingers begin to feel numb when the howling winds pick up. You raise your hand again to knock with all your strength, hoping someone will answer before you freeze.

Before your hand hits the door for the third time, the doors pull open and you’re greeted by a man in a waistcoat. His dark hair contrasts with his pale skin. He scans you slowly, eyes drifting down your shivering body, pretending not to notice how your clothes stick to your curves. He makes a small sound of approval before meeting your eyes.

To you, he seems normal, but that would be completely incorrect. When you took this job, you knew it’d be at your own risk. It pays so well you don’t even care about the dangers you potentially face.

“You must be the new help,” he says, pulling the door open wider. You get a glimpse of the inside and the grand decor. “Welcome to the Ravenheart Manor. I’m Yoongi, the butler. I’ll be helping you adjust to life here.”

You lift your suitcase and cross the threshold, taking in your surroundings. Yoongi reaches for your suitcase. When your hands touch briefly, you feel colder than before. You would have dropped your entire suitcase if he hadn’t grabbed it.

Yoongi isn’t phased, instead, he moves along, deeper into the heart of the manor. You force yourself to shake it off and follow him. You might as well get used to this. There’s certainly more encounters like this to come.

“I believe you’ve already been informed of this, but the residents here, including myself, aren’t exactly human. I would like to preface that before you meet them.”

“Yes, I’ve been told.”

You only know that they’re each different creatures, but you’re not entirely sure what. You can’t even tell what Yoongi is yet, but judging by his dark aura, he’s nothing to be messed with.

“May I ask what you are?”

He grins as if he were waiting for you to ask, but doesn’t turn around to meet your gaze. “A demon. If you’re not careful I could steal away your soul and your face. So I suggest not messing up.”

Although his tone is playful, you doubt he’s joking.

—

In the dining area, two men lounge in chairs across from each other, neither of them eating. One has his feet up on the white linen; his mud-coated boots stain the fabric. A toothpick rests between his lips and his eyes travel the pages of a worn book. The other nurses a cup of dark liquid that he seems mesmerized in, watching his tired reflection stare back at him. The room smells of coffee and you assume that’s what he’s drinking, despite the clock ticking close to midnight.

The ambient candle lighting is warm, casting a soft glow over the room. With the rain battering against the window it creates a cozy atmosphere, and for a brief moment, it’s almost a place you’d call home.

Yoongi clears his throat and both men call their attention towards you and you’re suddenly reminded of the dangers beneath this roof.

The man with his feet on the table grins, his canines peeking beneath his upper lip, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and shutting his novel with a loud slam that startles the other man out of his daze. “A toy? You love to spoil us, don’t you, Yoongi?”

“She’s not your toy, master Taehyung,” Yoongi says, eyes narrowing slightly at Taehyung’s shoes muddying up the table. “This is ___ and as of today she will be assisting me with chores around the manor.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t play around with her,” Taehyung pouts, “Jungkook, doesn’t she look like fun?”

Jungkook meets your eyes and immediately flushes, turning back to stare into his black coffee. “I don’t know,” he mutters, curling into himself like he wants to disappear.

Taehyung laughs, rich and melodious laughter, throwing his head back against his chair, “don’t mind him. All baku are shy things. It’s cute—don’t you agree, ___?”

At that, Jungkook dips his head lower, dark hair sweeping over his eyes as he tries hiding his embarrassment.

You don’t want to turn Jungkook any more red than he already is. You ignore Taehyung’s question and regard both men with a thin smile and a polite bow. “Hello, I’m eager to begin working here.”

Taehyung swings his boots off the counter—much to Yoongi’s relief—and leans forward with his elbow resting on the table and chin propped in his hands. His tongue wets his lower lip like a starving wolf.

“Will you call me master as well, ___?” Taehyung queries, popping his toothpick back in his mouth with a sly grin.

Your heart hammers at his charming smile.

“If you wish.”

“I’d love nothing more, my dear.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, unsure of your next words.

“Well then, master, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Taehyung’s smile drops and for a second you can see the predatory gaze in his eyes that tells you he craves to pounce on you. Maybe if Yoongi and a Jungkook weren’t in the room, he would. Maybe he’d have you pressed against the wall before you could say anything more and devour you completely. His voice is lower when he speaks again, any trace of his teasing attitude gone. “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together, my dear.”

—

“This room is the bathing area. You’ll be sharing it with the rest of the residents here. There is a scheduled amount of time for you to bathe alone, however. So don’t worry about anyone barging in on you.” Yoongi says, opening the door, releasing a thick cloud of steam. Upon entering, you notice the large bath in the center with two shadowy figures in the fog.

“You get off on making me angry, don’t you?” The hiss comes from the steam. “I said, don’t touch my things!”

“It’s just soap, Hobi. Relax before you pull something.”

Before you can turn away after the fog clears, you’re met with two men at the bath. One is submerged in the water with his arms crossed over the ledge and the other stands over him with a towel wrapped around his waist.

The one not in the bath has a scowl on his face, but more importantly, two leathery white and blue wings protruding from his back and a large sweeping tail matching in color tucked under his towel.

“Touch my things again and I’ll tie you up in the sun till you shrivel,” the one with the tail threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Ahem,” Yoongi clears his throat. “Masters, may I introduce our newest guest?”

You almost gawk at Yoongi for thinking now, when there are two men practically naked and arguing, is an appropriate time to introduce you. But then again, he is a demon. He must not have any qualms over things that you’d normally find inappropriate. He is the embodiment of sin, after all.

The one in the bath is the first to look at you. He gasps, pushing himself up from the water. Instead of seeing him completely naked, his waist blends into iridescent smooth scales. A shimmering tail flicks behind him, splashing water over the edge of the bath.

“I had no idea she’d be so cute! Say, care to join me for a bath, dear?”

Saving you from the embarrassing stutters that would’ve left your mouth, Yoongi interrupts, “there’s no time for that tonight, master Jimin. I’m sure ___ is tired from her trip here and would like to get to bed as soon as this tour is over.”

You hold in your sigh of relief.

Jimin pouts, dropping his arms back into the water with a splash. “Alright. Maybe next time.” The disappointment is marred on his beautiful face.

“Why’d you have to bring a human into the manor, Yoongi?” The second man says.

“I think she is very qualified for the job, master Hoseok.”

“Tch,” Hoseok scoffs. “She won’t last here.”

—

The crackling fireplace warms your rain-soaked body. Worn books line the walls in this next room. Yoongi guides you deeper into the library where there are two men sitting in chairs across from one another, pondering over a chessboard.

“This is very boring, Namjoon,” the blonde one huffs, propping his elbow on the table to cradle his chin. He looks out the looming window at the drops of rain battering against the window with a sigh. “Nothing like celestial games.”

The man opposite him gives a similar sigh as his hand hovers over a pawn, contemplating his next move carefully, “Seokjin, it’s been over a century since you were cast out. When will you stop comparing everything to the celestial realm?”

“When my Father gives me my true wings back.”

“So never,” Namjoon says matter factly, pushing his dark-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. He pulls his hand back and scans over all his pieces on the board with furrowed brows.

“Masters,” Yoongi calls. “Please meet our newest maid.”

Seokjin turns from the window and nearly grimaces at Yoongi, but as his eyes travel to you they light up, absolutely delighted to see you.

“Hello! Come join us!” Seokjin says, “would you like to play for me?”

He’d like to get out of playing chess anyway he can. He’s already halfway across the room to greet you before you can speak.

“Hello, I’m ___,” you greet politely, placing your hand in Seokjin’s outstretched one. He’s warm, unlike Yoongi. You already feel so much more comfortable just being near him. Namjoon said something about heaven and you assume he must have been an angel.

You become frozen when Seokjin brings your knuckles to meet his lips in a tender kiss.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ___.”

“The theatrics are unnecessary.” Namjoon gives a tired sigh from his chair, still intent on the board before finally moving his piece. After he’s satisfied with the move, he rises from the chair and strides across the room with confidence. When he stops, looming before you, he stares down at you with dangerous maroon eyes. “I’m Namjoon, owner of the Ravenheart Manor. I hope you do not disappoint me.”

—

It’s been about a month since you started working at this manor. You’ve gotten to know a little bit more about each of the residents, but only surface-level things.

You know that Namjoon is half vampire, half werewolf but doesn’t care to speak of his werewolf side. He sometimes disappears into the garden in the middle of the night. You can see him strolling around and disappearing behind hedges from your window. You’ve never been down there because Yoongi has you working dusk to dawn scrubbing down the manor or doing laundry until you can hardly move once your head hits the pillow.

Seokjin is a fallen angel who was cast out centuries ago, but can’t seem to stop reminiscing about his time there. You enjoy being around him the most. He always puts you at ease and is the only one who occasionally helps you with chores. He’ll help you sweep the floors and tell stories of Heaven that always captivate you.

Yoongi is a demon who seems to take a great amount of joy in bossing you around on your hands and knees. Every morning, just before the sun is over the horizon, he’s hovering over you with endless amounts of chores to do and a new list of your flaws and how you can do better.

Hoseok is a dragon and it seems like he just doesn’t like you at all. The subtle glare he gives you whenever you walk into a room makes you want to exit immediately. He likes to keep to himself in his room most of the day and away from the other residents. No one gets to go into his room at all because he locks the door. You’re not sure what he’s hiding in there.

Jimin is a siren who endlessly flirts with you about getting into the bath with him. You’ve heard the stories of sirens seducing their prey just to drown and eat them so you avoid being near the baths whenever he’s in, but it seems like he’s always in the bath. Sometimes you catch yourself being tempted by his sweet voice whenever he offers.

Taehyung is a kumiho that loves to tease and pull you onto his lap while he reads a book just to watch you grow flustered. You always find yourself thrown onto his lap whenever he’s nearby. He loves having you curled against him, one arm securely around your waist and the other with a book open on your lap.

Jungkook is a baku. He’s easily flustered by you, turning red easily whenever you’re around. He’s so quiet; sometimes you don’t even notice his presence in a room until someone acknowledges him.

You sigh as you pour a glass of blood for Namjoon in his usual tall glass. You spent the whole day dusting the library and pulling yourself from Taehyung’s affectionate grasp most of the time.

“Uh-”

Another voice entering the kitchen disrupts your futile attempts at relaxing. Caught off guard, you accidentally let out a yelp, nearly tipping out the entire pitcher of blood. Consequently, your help causes the intruder to jump as well.

“Sorry!” He says.

You turn around to find Jungkook shrinking away under the door frame and not some hungry monster you didn’t know inhabited the manor.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe a sigh of relief. Out of all the residents in this house, Jungkook is the least of your worries. Actually, you doubt he’s even capable of hurting anything with how timid he is.

“Do you need more coffee?” You gesture towards the empty mug clutched in his hand.

He nods, extending his cup towards you. His arm strains to hand the cup to you from the distance he’s put between you two.

By now, you’re not surprised he’s here asking for more caffeine at night. His unusual sleeping schedule (not that he ever sleeps), along with a filled cup of black coffee always clinging to his side, keeps him up all through the night. You’ve never questioned his obsession with coffee and the habit of staying up. You don’t know much about baku, but there probably is a good explanation for it.

“Um,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “You seem… stressed?”

“A little,” you admit, moving to take the coffee pitcher off the heat.

“Oh,” he trails off, not knowing what else to say. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he attempts to think of something to say or do. “Maybe something to drink will help?”

You laugh, “I don’t think coffee is going to help me relax, especially at night.”

Jungkook flushes, averting his gaze towards the cupboards. “Th-That’s not what I meant.”

He shuffles over to the cupboard and opens a panel to reveal where the liquor is kept. He grabs one of the bottles off the top shelf—an opaque rose-colored glass with a wide rounded bottom and long neck.

“Here. Jimin always drinks this whenever he’s stressed and brags about how it can make anyone feel good,” he extends the bottle towards you, “maybe this’ll help.”

You haven’t had a good drink since coming to the manor. Even with Yoongi’s voice in the back of your head nagging about how a good maid wouldn’t drink on the job and how he’d be disappointed by your actions, you find yourself reaching for the bottle.

You take the bottle from Jungkook, who surprisingly doesn’t flinch when you accidentally brush fingertips, but you can see the familiar pink flush across his cheeks.

“One or two drinks won’t hurt.”

—

You drank a few shots of the oddly sweet liquor before dinner could begin. It filled you with a pleasant warmth that ran through your entire body. True to Jungkook’s word, it did help you relax—maybe a little too much.

Now you’re sitting at the dinner table surrounded by all seven of the residents. Yoongi is hovering behind Jungkook, refilling another cup of coffee, still working to serve his masters. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat.

Tonight is a mandatory dinner where you all sit down and have dinner at one table. Usually, the residents have separate meals at separate times in their own rooms or wherever they can find prey—willing, submissive volunteers, as Jimin likes to call them—but Namjoon made it a rule to have dinner together at least once a week to help you find normalcy and feel more comfortable living with a group of supernatural creatures.

You absentmindedly poke at your meal while your stomach churns. You’re not in pain—far from it actually. The all too familiar heat between your legs has you slowly sliding your legs together underneath the table to ease the tension. The throbbing is subtle but it’s there, rendering you unable to focus on anything else but that need.

“Not hungry?” Namjoon asks you, dabbing blood off the corner of his lip with a white cloth.

You glance toward the head of the table where Namjoon sits back in his chair watching with sapphire eyes as your hand swirls around a spoon. You tense under his gaze, which is entirely devoid of emotions when it travels back to your face.

The month that you’ve been in this manor you’ve picked up on some things about its peculiar residents.

This always seemed to be Namjoon’s demeanor—composed and seemingly one step ahead of everyone else. Namjoon is always eerily calm even when he should be livid. It only makes him more intimidating to you.

You’ve always wondered what goes on in his head. Maintaining a mansion full of different mythical creatures must be tough on him, and if it is, he doesn’t let it show.

In the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi cradling the pitcher of coffee behind Jungkook. His silent stare is a warning. ‘Don’t let the masters know you’re struggling. Maintain your composure or be punished.’

Working closely with Yoongi has taught you a few things about him too. He hates upsetting his masters and if you mess a single thing up, one of two things can happen. He’ll begin to lecture you about not being an adequate maid or he’ll stay silent and watch you until you crumble and apologize.

His silence is what you’re most afraid of. You’ve never seen what he looks like as a demon; but when he’s upset with you, a cloud of thick dark smoke rises from his body. If you ever do get to see his real demon form, you’re positive punishment would be laid out for you.

And that’s how he looks at you now—silently.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. Even without Yoongi’s warning eyes, you wouldn’t want them to know about the embarrassing need between your legs anyway. Though you’re sure Jimin or Taehyung wouldn’t mind jumping at the chance to help you. They’re always eager to touch you and keep you close to their sides. Their hands roaming your body doesn’t seem like such a bad idea right now though.

All chatter halts as all the men turn their curious eyes towards you, all of a sudden very interested in your loss of appetite. Seokjin even soothingly rubs your back with one hand and you can’t help but melt at his touch. It’s not uncommon for the former angel to give you a hug or a head pat when you’re feeling down, but this time his hands on you feel different.

It’s like his hand sends tingles throughout your body, more importantly between your legs, as it rubs warm and soothing circles on your back. His hands between your legs are all you can think of—the heavenly angel, sinning between your thighs. His lips, his tongue on you, licking up your arousal like it’s the sweetest ambrosia.

“If you’re not feeling well you should rest,” Seokjin says, moving his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

Once his hand makes contact with your bare skin, you bite your lip at how warm his hand feels against you and you just want more of his touch. You want to feel all of him against you.

He flinches back once he touches your skin and his face scrunches up in worry. “Oh my, you’re burning up.”

“You’ve been working her too hard, Yoongi,” Taehyung says. He’s sitting on you’re right and leans in closer to inspect your heated face. His hand subtly slides onto your thigh and you immediately move your hand over his to make sure he doesn’t move it. He looks shocked by your unusually bold move. Normally, you play coy and pretend that you don’t like his sly advances and push him away.

“I only give her as much as she can handle, master.”

You let out an accidental whimper. Why did that sound so much more sexual than it was? The idea of Yoongi’s punishments has a different ring to you now. If you were to disobey Yoongi would he bend you over his lap and make you beg for forgiveness?

Your grip tightens around Taehyung’s hand.

The rest of the table looks at you wide-eyed, a few gaping, mainly Jungkook who looks ready to disappear into his chair.

“What the hell was that?” Hoseok blurts, averting his gaze from your heated one.

“You sound like me after a sip of my aphrodisiac,” Jimin giggles to which Jungkook pales.

“W-What?” he stutters, a panicked expression settling on his face.

Namjoon puts down his glass, licking the drop of blood on the corner of his lip.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, an action not unnoticed by Namjoon’s sharp eye.

“Speak,“ Namjoon says, shooting a sharp glare towards Jungkook, causing him to press himself further into his chair. "If you know what’s the matter, then speak, Jungkook.”

At the sound of his name, Jungkook almost yelps, anxious to admit his mistake. He ducks his head down and fiddles with his hands in his lap.

"I-I think I accidentally let her drink some of Jimin’s aphrodisiac,” he mutters underneath his breath, voice trailing off near the end. The atmosphere surrounding the table goes silent for a moment. Namjoon simply stares at Jungkook with silent anger. Jungkook avoids eye contact with the entire table, especially you.

“You!” Jimin laughs aloud, interrupting the silence, and points his finger towards Jungkook, hardly getting a word past his laughter. “You gave her my aphrodisiac?! What were you trying to do, Jungkook? Get her into bed with you?”

“No! No, I swear!” Jungkook cries, sounding more and more helpless and meak, “I-I didn’t mean to! I was only trying to help! S-She said she was stressed!”

Namjoon puts his elbows on the table and rubs his temples. A groan escapes him. “How much did you drink, ___?”

You don’t trust your voice to speak without sounding breathless and needy. “A little,” you respond weakly.

“And how much is a little?” he repeats this time the question is aimed towards Jungkook.

“One…eh, m-maybe four shots?”

Yoongi looks disappointed in you, but you don’t really seem to mind. Your thoughts are still on the kinds of punishment Yoongi’s hands could give you. “What am I going to do with you?” He tsks.

“Don’t worry; the potion should wear off in a couple of hours or so. If you need any help with those urges feel free to knock on my door.” Jimin winks from across the table. Given your state, you wouldn’t mind taking him up on that offer. You’ve often walked by and heard the sounds his ‘guests’ make in his bedroom all night long. His very skilled hands stroking your body, the sweet lull of a siren’s song singing in your ears as he-

“The aphrodisiac potion may wear off in a couple of hours for us but the same can’t be said for humans. ___ should be monitored in case this potion turns out to have more negative consequences than expected.” He turns toward you. “To make you more comfortable I’ll let you choose who you’d like to watch over you.”

WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHOOSE?

Seokjin - angel | coming soon

Namjoon - werewolf/vampire hybrid | coming soon

Yoongi - demon

Hoseok - dragon | coming soon

Jimin - siren | coming soon

Taehyung - kumiho | coming soon

Jungkook - baku | coming soon

#bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #bts fanfiction

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rosepetalmafioso · 2 years ago

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As much as he enjoyed strolling around the bazaar that evening, Blood decided that this entire trip was a nuisance. He got what he came here for, a tea blend with spices only found at this one particular stall and a stained glass decoration that he had plans to give away. Otherwise all he believed this outing was good for was making him appreciate a nice bath and the luxuries of air conditioning.

He spent the entirety of the morning and afternoon inside of the lodge, and now he finally felt he was able to take a stroll outside without being burned to a crisp. ...Except in his haste for fresh air he forgot that the desert was actually freezing at night. He quickly decided was getting on the first coach back to that coffin of an elevator in the morning. The wind howled through the Stepping Stone Resort, and Blood stared suspiciously at the empty bazaar at the heart of the grounds.

He didn’t have much of a goal in mind while wandering, but he eventually found himself at the entrance of the Resort. The closer he got to the dunes outside, the more frequently he could swear that the wind sounded like a person whispering into his ear. He hit his palm against his ear and shook his head, turning around to find no one there. Multicolored strings of lights flickered under abandoned tents. A strong wind blew sand towards his face and he turned to the side to keep it out of his eyes. That’s when he saw that someone else seemed to be a restless sleeper that night.

A familiar blonde stood looking dazed, one hand clutched to her heart as she wordlessly stared into the dunes. With hesitation, her feet began inching forward. As much as Blood wanted to head back into the lodge and say it wasn’t his responsibility...nobody else seemed to be looking after her. Without thinking, Blood picked up his pace and grabbed onto her wrist.

“Miss Colette, what are you doing venturing off on your own this late at night?”

@sylvarantichosen

#Colette 02 #sylvarantichosen #do not match me. descriptive brain went off.

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mediocre-eternity · 2 years ago

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Today is 20 November, 2022.

The trio of us haven’t actually been staying on Night Island full time. A month or so back a horrifically large hurricane tore through Florida and our little Island. We’re incredibly lucky that our property didn’t sustain totaling damage but was battered nonetheless. All the business is lost and some structures still remain partially in the water. Trash is askew on most of the streets though now piled in high mounds. I’m still having difficulty finding the words to process how we’ll rebuild. It feels like a great organ has been cut from me. The Villa is livable, for us anyway. We can sleep where we find the most comfortable. Because the Villa was built up high, a lot of primary damage was avoided; only some flooding in our basement, which is unfortunately where me and Daniel slept. There is a lot of labor going back into the Island though and I truly believe sometimes nature gives us the blank slate we didn’t ask for. I’m not so concerned for my emotions about the Island. We are traveling back and forth to the mainland and when we can, we spend time here. On the mainland I’m surrounded by much more tragedy than my own. We’ve only fed sparingly on the locals as everyone’s focus is on their lives torn asunder. No, for myself I am not concerned at all. Me and Daniel spoke at length about what we wanted on the Island in future. Daniel calls it Night Island 2.0 and we’ll definitely have a record store again. Oh and a dispensary. “Give them their drugs,” he said with a laugh. “I know I would have loved that.” It’ll be lovely.

We had to evacuate first to the mainland then we traveled up to New York to stay at Trinity Gate there and struggled to get back as soon as we could. The first night was the three of us kicking out broken glass and torn walls. Why I need so many windows in my homes is a mystery. Consider me a slave to the moon and the stars. As wee were assessing the damage, I picked up some books and started moving them to a pile then heard Benji calling to me from the living room.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He said as I approached, his face sinking and turning. Behind him, belly up like some stinking, glossy beached whale was my beloved 1981 custom Italian white leather sofa. It was specifically designed for the Villa and one of my most prized pieces of furniture. The entire room’s decor had not been touched since we first moved in and I cherished it so deeply and so fondly. Daniel’s sudden howl broke my daze as I was staring at the broken thing. He laughed and laughed as he walked to it and with Benji, tipped it back onto it’s feet as water and debris gushed forward like entrails from this slain creature. The entire room was a mess but the sofa stood upright now, flayed like a martyr to what our Villa once was.

“Oh my God, Boss, it’s fucking dead!” Daniel bellowed, still laughing, ironically echoing what I might have been thinking. Benji looked up at Daniel a bit confused by his rejoicing but Daniel was plainly remembering a rather charged argument we had over this furniture. Again, it was custom and took a great deal of designing to match the vision I had for this space. It was my seat and I was very proud of it. I tore the damaged fabric up to reveal it’s metal springs and soaked wood. Daniel was reciting a lot of stories involving the item to Benji as I couldn’t help but inspect it further. Daniel burnt the sofa with cigarette about six months after we installed it and the wetness in the wood unleashed a vile smell of stale tobacco. He also vomited on it once and plenty more times he was close to doing it again. So, I screamed at him so loud that he didn’t sit in it for the rest of that summer. I really didn’t mean to scare him but ever since then Daniel had become completely invested in hating it. And now my fledgeling finally won. Something plastic and bright pink caught my eye so I reached for it and held it in my palm. Daniel snatched it from me the moment I registered what is was.

“Holy shit. I remember this.” He was in disbelief. The object was a little pink lighter with Miami 1982 printed in white below a palm tree motif.

“Oh.” I responded, remembering. “You had bought that before we got back on the charter to the Island. You lost your previous one and went into the Seven-Eleven to buy a new one.”

“Aah, a relic!” Benji took it from Daniel and really thoroughly examined it. “Put on E-Bay for a million dollars!”

Daniel laughed.

“That fucking couch swallowed my lighter. Do you know how pissed I was when I lost it after taking an hour and a half nap?” He took the lighter again, waved it at me and put it in his pocket. “It’s good luck from now on.”

Daniel was looking outside at the total, silent darkness. At once I was thrown back to a memory. Maybe not a complete memory, but the emotion was there and I wanted so badly for this moment to be from decades ago. Daniel would be staring past the open windows at the flashing neon below him then out at the moon above the sea. His face would be unshaven, his eyes stale, his hair blowing wildly over his forehead. And he would light a cigarette and say the probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, so stupid I’d marvel at the sheer wit of it. Then Daniel would ask me to join him in the shower and he’d promise he’d focus on staying. I wish I could show this image in my mind to him but I couldn’t and that realization is what destroyed the bond I had with Daniel in his mortal life and for decades I couldn’t stand to look at him in the Blood. I’m a monster of the highest caliber but please understand that a near constant mental link existed between Daniel and I before I gave him the Gift. But Daniel right now is all I can think about. Back in the present, he kicked some glass over the edge of the room out into the palm trees below, studying the little bit of outside before moving back toward the center of the room. I reflected that my life had always been a series of endings. There are always chapters closing at an alarming rate, almost faster than I can plan for them and once again I stood in the center of vacant palace. In these moments a small thought always occurs to me, that there’s at least one person I could go to for help but it’s a thought that’s never lead me anywhere good. Daniel’s arm came around my shoulders… I really I feel like he could sense why I was so speechless. He was looking at my face and my eyes met his.

“Ah, don’t worry about this,” he said so very casually, scanning the room again and then he smiled at me. Since that night a lot of the Villa has been cleared out and has become much more comfortable again. I want to continue to exist here.

#devil’s minion #the vampire chronicles #tvc #the vampire armand #Daniel Molloy #iwtv #interview with the vampire #queen of the damned #journal entry

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candied-peach · 4 years ago

Text

ao3: “christmas baubles” rating: T warnings: platonic dlampr, some violent humor, food, christmas genre: fluff (tiny bit of angst) description: Virgil spends Christmas with everyone. It goes surprisingly well. (this is written for @potatopriestlord for @sanderssidesgiftxchange ! happy holidays ♡)

It's Christmas time.

It's Christmas time, and Virgil doesn't know how to feel. This year, Patton's invited Janus and Remus. "A new beginning," he claimed, and who is Virgil to argue? He wants a new beginning. He does, but he just-

Well, it's not quite the same. He's used to Christmas with Janus and Remus and he's slowly becoming used to Christmas with Logan, Roman, and Patton, but- Combining them?

His heart stutters at the thought.

Don't be such a dummy, he tells himself as he carries in one last box of Christmas finery for the tree. The lights have already been strewn, in white and gold. Multi-colored tinsel is densely packed in one box, ready to be flung over evergreen branches in a rainbow tapestry. All that's left, really, are the ornaments.

Virgil isn't sure he's ready for the ornaments.

They aren't regular ornaments, you see. They aren't shiny glass baubles or childish popsicle stick and Elmer's glue contraptions. They're memories.

And he's painfully aware of every memory destined to fit on the tree.

"You ready, Virge?" Roman asks, a candy cane sticking out of his mouth. Virgil nods, swallowing his nerves back. It will be fine, he reminds himself. Just because Jan and Remus are coming this time doesn't mean anything will go wrong.

Roman hands him an ornament. It's a delicate reenactment of a cabin, snow falling down the windows in little drifts. Virgil grasps it with shaking fingers, his mind already drawn into the bauble's memory.

It's his first Christmas with the other sides since childhood. He doesn't want to intrude, but Patton insists. They don't even know his name yet, think he's nothing but a bother, but Virgil goes anyway because Patton gave him that look and he can't resist it.

They've transformed the commons into what looks like the inside of a cozy log cabin. Patton beams when he sees Virgil's hesitant tread down the stairs.

"You made it!" Patton says cheerfully. Logan gives him a cordial nod. Roman ignores him altogether, too focused on putting the last finishing touches on the tree. There are heaps of red and blue ornaments in various shades, but no purple, yellow, or green. Not that Virgil expected any.

"Uh, yeah," he says, shrinking into his hoodie. He feels like an imposition. Desperately wishing he could go back up the stairs and take refuge in his room, Patton instead takes his sleeve and tows him further in, handing him a mug of hot chocolate. It warms his perpetually chilled fingers and he can't help but awkwardly smile in thanks at the moral side.

"Thanks," he mumbles, his cheeks flaming like the sunset.

"Sorry," Roman apologizes, his face tinted red. "I um, I wasn't very princely that year."

"It's fine, Princey," Virgil says with a shrug. "The feeling was mutual, remember?" The next ornament is an old one. A fragile one. One that Virgil thought had been lost.

"Patton found that one," Roman tells him. "I haven't checked it out myself."

"Oh," Virgil says, feeling dazed. His fingertips brush the childish blobs of paint that stain the ornament's surface.

"Come on!" Creativity says impatiently, hopping down the stairs two at a time.

"You're gonna fall," Caution warns, flapping an oversized sweater sleeve. "Be careful."

"I am careful," Creativity retorts, but Caution notices that he takes the remaining steps a little slower. "Come on, Curiosity's already awake!"

"What 'bout Lies?" Caution asks. Creativity shrugs.

"Not sure," he says. "We gotta get Heart up, too. He's such a sleepyhead. Doesn't he know it's Christmas!?"

"I think the whole mind palace knows," Caution says dryly. Then he steps into the living room and gasps. An enormous Christmas tree squats proudly in the corner, decorated with strings of multi-colored lights and loads and loads of tinsel. Not a single ornament adorns its fluffy branches, causing Caution to give Creativity a curious look.

"It's not done," Creativity admits. "I thought- I thought the ornaments could hold memories! Of all the Christmasses we ever have together! Or like...other times, maybe, I don't know. Doesn't that sound cool?" He enthuses.

"Y-yeah," Caution stammers. "That- that sounds neat, Creativity."

"Show us how!" Curiosity exclaims, storming out of the kitchen. "I'll make the best memory ornament the world has ever seen!" Caution bursts into giggles, covering his mouth with one sleeve.

"Virgil?" Roman asks, touching his shoulder and drawing him out of the memory. "You okay?"

"Fine," Virgil says. "I'm fine. I just. Yeah." He sets the ornament down, as gently as if he cradled a snowflake, and hurried to his box. Dust still gathers, thick and cloying, on a few of the ornaments, buried in the back. The ones with Janus and Remus. He swallows hard, stretching out a hand to pluck the nearest one free.

"Remus, I swear to all that is holy if you have decided to replace the tinsel with tentacles again-" Janus threatens. Remus laughs, dancing backward around the tree as Janus chases him. Each evergreen branch is heavily laden with a wet and floppy tentacle, making Virgil scrunch his nose when he walks in.

"Again?" He complains mildly. Janus looks up, his face brightening.

"Virgil!" He exclaims. "You- you made it."

"Uh, yeah," Virgil says, his face flushed. "Um. I didn't- I didn't know that you uh, did anything? For Christmas?"

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing compared to the others," Janus dismisses, with one light wave of a gloved hand. "But Remus and I try our best. And now you! What tradition would you like to bring to the table, my dear Anxiety?"

Virgil blinks.

"Uh, what?" He asks, completely nonplussed. Remus grins and bounces forward, flapping his hands to make the ruffles on his sleeves move.

"Janus came up with it!" He explains. "We each get a Christmas tradition, just for us. Janus's is singing Christmas carols- only the funny ones- and mine is decorating the tree on December first. What do you want yours to be? It can be anything!"

"Anything?" Virgil asks. Janus looks like he regrets all his life choices, but he nods anyway.

"Anything," he confirms.

"Could- could it be making Christmas cookies?" He asks, hugging himself and remembering Patton's baking with a pang. Janus nods in agreement, though his own mismatched eyes look shadowed.

"Of course," Janus says. "To the kitchen!"

"To the kitchen!" Remus echoes in a howl, galloping toward the kitchen and nearly tripping over a stray tentacle.

Virgil's throat aches when he returns to himself. Their cookies had burned that time, because Remus forgot to set the timer, and truthfully, Virgil still isn't sure if Remus managed to add anything inedible to them, but the experience had been-

Well, the experience had been magical.

"Virgil," Janus greets him carefully. He has a dusty cardboard box held tightly in gloved hands, and his face is carefully neutral. He glances at the cookie-shaped ornament still clasped in Virgil's hands and the faintest dusting of pink brushes his cheekbones.

"Janus," Virgil greets just as carefully. Tension dissipates as Remus thumps his way between the two, lugging his own box.

"Virgey!" Remus exclaims. "Ice to see you!"

"It's nice-" Virgil starts, before realizing Remus is holding an icicle towards him. He recoils, setting the cookie ornament back down into the box, just as Remus laughs and dramatically stabs the icicle against his own heart. Nothing happens. Janus rolls his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his lips, as he watches Remus's antics.

"Janus, Remus!" Patton greets warmly. His words are only a little stilted when he realizes Remus is still holding a melting icicle, dripping all over the floor. Remus waves cheerily with it.

"This is a murder weapon!" He says, cheerful. Patton blanches.

"That's- that's nice," Patton says, recovering admirably. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Likewise," Janus drawls. He looks hesitantly down into his box of ornaments. Despite himself, Virgil cranes his neck to have a peek himself. He doesn't even have to touch it to be drawn into the first ornament's memory.

"Virgil, what do you want for Christmas?"

"Huh?" Virgil asks inelegantly, spinning around to see Janus leaning against the door of his bedroom, studying his glove with practiced casualness. He shoves his headphones down, curling around his neck, as he advances toward Janus.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Janus repeats. His snake eye gleams in the dim light. "It's a simple question, storm cloud."

"No, it isn't," he retorts, flustered. "There's so many things that are out there in the world, how could I possibly choose just one-"

"Who says it has to be one?" Janus's question stops him in his tracks.

"Be- because," he splutters. One side of Janus's mouth tips up in a crooked smile.

"We're figments of Thomas's imagination, we can have whatever we want," Janus says. Virgil doesn't point out that's not true, not really, doesn't mumble anything about wishing they could all have Christmas together for once. Instead, he stares at the ground and mutters something about new headphones.

"Well, that's easily done," Janus says lightly. "I'll ensure you get the prettiest lump of coal in your stocking, Virge. Unless Remus gets to it first." Virgil laughs despite himself and Janus's eyes light up, even as he saunters out the door.

The bauble, shaped like a pair of over-the-ear headphones, reluctantly lets Virgil free. He glances up to see Janus's own eyes, misty with memories.

"You kept it," Virgil mumbles. "You kept all of them."

"Of course I did," Janus says softly.

"Look at mine!" Remus exclaims, jostling his way between the two of them and shoving an ornament in Virgil's direction. It's shaped like a very misshapen pie and his startled fingers close around it, preventing it from clattering to the floor.

"Remus!" Virgil chases him around the kitchen, laughing only partly from frustration. Remus circles the kitchen island, cackling, holding the mixing bowl aloft.

"What's the matter, Fright Night?" Remus gleefully taunts.

"The matter is that batteries don't belong in pie crust and you know it!" Virgil exclaims, huffing out a breath and stirring his bangs.

"Sure they do," Remus says smugly. "They fit in here, didn't they?"

"That doesn't mean anything!" Virgil says, rolling his eyes. "A lot of things could fit in th- I mean-" Remus's eyes light up with a wicked gleam.

"A lot of things, you say?" He purrs. Virgil puts his face in his hands.

"Janus, how could you leave me with him?" He mutters into his palms.

"Because you can handle it," Janus retorts, appearing out of nowhere. He has a string of Christmas lights tangled around one arm. "Remus, put the bowl down."

"Yes, sir!" Remus says, saluting (thankfully with the hand not holding the bowl). The mixing bowl clatters to the counter.

"And help me with these lights for a minute, would you?" Janus implores. The wink he sends Virgil's way lets him know that he'll take charge of Remus, at least for a few minutes. Enough time for Virgil to fish out the batteries, if nothing else, and see if they need to start over.

"I remember that," Virgil mumbles. His cheeks feel like they're on fire. Remus beams at him.

"Good," he says. "Merry Christmas, Panic at the Emo."

"Likewise," Virgil mutters.

"Remus!" Roman shouts, startling all three of them. "Stop bothering Virgil and help me with these lights for the window."

"Same old, same old," Remus says, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion and adding a little shoulder shimmy. He shoves his box of ornaments in Virgil's arms and dashes to his brother's rescue.

"Thanks," Virgil says dryly, looking after Remus's departing back.

"I can take them," Janus offers. Virgil sighs and shakes his head.

"It's fine," he says. "I wouldn't want you to drop anything."

"As if I would," Janus says, putting one hand to his chest in mock offense. It makes Virgil snicker. Janus smiles, a genuine expression of mirth that makes Virgil's heart twinge.

"Shall we?" He asks, motioning toward the tree with a jerk of his head.

"Ah, good," Logan says, adjusting his glasses with one hand. "I was wondering when you would appear, Janus. The twins are already hopelessly tangled in Christmas lights."

"Who put the ones on the tree?" Janus asks, looking amused. Logan smiles, a trifle smug.

"Me," he says. "Would you like to help with the tinsel?"

"Me?" Janus asks, clearly surprised. Logan nods.

"Is there some reason you shouldn't?" He asks.

"No," Virgil speaks on Janus's behalf, carefully setting down Remus's box of ornaments. "I'm gonna go see if Patton needs help," he adds and hurries away as Logan encourages Janus to set down his ornaments and pick up the first strand of tinsel.

"You're doing well," Patton murmurs, as Virgil stumbles into the kitchen. Red colors his cheeks like a candy cane.

"I guess," Virgil says, leaning against the counter top. "You uh, you need any help?"

"I think I've got it for now," Patton says. "But if you'd like to decorate cookies in a bit..."

"Sounds good to me, pop star," Virgil says, relieved. Patton rummages in a box on the table for a second, holding out an ornament.

"Remember this one?" Patton asks softly. Virgil's fingertips brush the smooth edges and he's helplessly drawn in.

"Caution?"

"Go away!"

"No," Heart insists, tiptoeing in the room and looking around. The spider curtains make him wrap his arms around himself and shiver. "You're upset. I can feel it. What's wrong?"

"Christmas," Caution mumbles. He's curled up on his bed, arms around his knees. "Christmas is what's wrong."

"What?!" Heart squawks. "What do you mean, Caution?"

"Thomas has so much stuff to do," Caution says. "How can he do all of them? It's just- I just-" His breathing speeds up. Alarmed, Heart crawls onto the bed, coming to a stop right beside him.

"Breathe," Heart directs, exaggerating his own breath into a gusty whoosh of air and making Caution's lips struggle not to form a smile. "Like this, 'kay? Follow how I sound."

It takes a few minutes for Caution to match his breathing, but he does. Both cheeks flush red as Heart smiles at him.

"Better?" Heart asks gently. Caution nods, playing with one of his sleeves.

"Will Thomas be okay?" Caution asks in a tiny voice. Heart doesn't even have to think about it for his next words to spill out, ringing with the sincerity of truth.

"Absolutely he will!"

Caution smiles, his hair flopping into his eyes. Heart reaches over and brushes it back, giving Caution an encouraging look.

"Wanna help me bake?" Heart asks. "I think I can make a pretty mean cookie!"

"Sure," Caution says, and laughs. "Why not?"

Virgil comes out of the memory slowly, his face flushed.

"I forgot about that," he mumbles, carefully setting aside the cookie-shaped bauble. Patton smiles gently.

"I never did," he admits, just as they hear a crash from the living room.

Virgil runs to the rescue, Patton hot on his heels. His mouth falls open at the scene of wanton destruction. The tree is still up (which is a miracle) and as far as he can tell, no ornament has been broken. But the tinsel lies in haphazard clumps all over the floor, and the same can be said for several strings of Christmas lights. A ladder sprawls on the ground, still holding a loudly protesting Roman.

"You didn't hold it steady!"

"Sure I did," Remus argues. His brows are scrunched tight in worry. "You overbalanced!"

"Well, it isn't like I did that on purpose," Roman says. Remus huffs.

"I never said it was on purpose!" Remus points out. Roman's face acquires a particularly rosy hue.

"Oh," he says weakly. Virgil snorts with barely suppressed laughter at the twins' banter, and all eyes turn to him and Patton.

"Roman fell off the ladder," Janus explains.

"Ouch," Roman tacks on. Virgil snorts.

"That would be an ouch," he says. "You better be okay, Princey."

"I will be," Roman promises. His expression turns irascible. "At least, I will when this bloody ladder is off me-"

"Oh, right," Remus says, his own face reddening. He reaches down and snags the ladder, carefully setting it upright. "There you go, bro."

"Thank you," Roman huffs. Logan gives him a hand and he cautiously makes it to his feet, breaking out in an enormous smile. "All is well on the Creativity train!"

"Please be careful," Patton implores, clasping his hands beneath his chin.

"I'm always careful, padre!" Roman exclaims, nearly slipping on a bushel of tinsel. Logan groans, snatching it up from the carpet.

"Ornament time," Patton says. "And then after that, I need help decorating some Christmas cookies!"

Virgil makes a beeline for his box, pulling out the ornament in the very back. Janus and Remus watch him as he delicately plucks it free, blowing away the dust.

"This one," he shyly requests. The memory plays, pulling them all in.

"Janus?"

Janus looks up from his idle place on the couch, a frown tugging at his face.

"Storm cloud? I thought you were in bed."

"I can't sleep," Virgil admits. He fidgets in the doorway to the living room, his eyes entranced by the Christmas tree (thankfully tentacle-free....for now).

"Come here," Janus coaxes, patting the couch next to him. Virgil shuffles over, his instincts screaming at him to go back to his room. Thankfully, he doesn't listen. He plops down on the sofa, and Janus tugs him closer, draping an arm around his shoulders. It should feel too tight and confining, but instead, it just feels...

Right.

"I can't sleep either!" Remus shouts from the hallway. Janus fondly rolls his eyes.

"Then come on out, Remus," Janus says. "I have two sides and six arms, you're more than welcome."

"Good," Remus says, but it's a subdued Creativity who finally slips out of the darkness and into the flickering colors of the Christmas lights. His eyes are red-rimmed. Virgil thinks he must have had a bad dream or something. He hardly ever cries otherwise.

"Bad dreams?" Janus asks, echoing Virgil's thoughts. Remus hesitates, then nods, as he crawls onto the couch on Janus's other side.

"Hark, hear the bells, sweet silver bells..." Janus sings lowly, elongating each phrase until the Christmas carol becomes nothing more than a lullaby, lulling both Virgil and Remus to sleep.

Virgil carefully hooks the ornament on the tree, front and center. He steps back, surrounded by old family and new, and nods to himself.

He's home.

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photozoi · 2 years ago

Photo

Do I say it now?

Have a Happy Holiday, no matter how you Celebrate! May yours be filled with love, and laughter, and best treats. (The best treats are the chewy ones, don’t let anyone cheat you out of one!)

the Imp- Silken Windhound and Bringer of Cheer to Those in Need.

#the Imp #Silken Windhound #sighthound #holiday decor #dogs in hats #photozoi #original photos #12-25-22 #tis the season #Happy Howl-a-Daze

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thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 4 years ago

Text

Mistletoe Headcanons

So all the boys except Siver and Sebek are in here. I wanted to post them last night but my power went out. Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: fluff, kissing, possibly oc characters

Heartslabyul:

Riddle Rosehearts:

Not sure how to react

On one hand he would like to take the head of whoever put it up

On the other hand he has to follow the rules and the rules with mistletoe are that you have to kiss who you meet underneath the hanging kiss trap

Oh look you’re the one he has to kiss

He’s gone beet red by now

Rules are rules though

Steel’s himself and shuts his eyes

The kiss is quick and somewhat off since he couldn’t see what he was doing

“Ahem, excuse me”

Your shocked as Riddle runs into the next room

Trey Clover:

Somewhat annoyed by the mistletoe

But only because he knows he’s gonna have to deal with Riddle later when the dorm head finds out

What he isn’t annoyed by is your cute, stunned face staring up at it

Taking his chance he moves in and pecks you gently on the lips

Your shocked gaze meets his and he smiles before moving around you

Wait. What just happened?

Cater Diamond:

Don’t tell Riddle but he knew the mistletoe was going to be there

Tells you he wants to take a selfie with you in this doorway because it has ‘good lighting’

“Oh look mistletoe. You know what that means.”

Steals a kiss before you can even react

He pulls back with a wink

“If you wanna take another selfie here later let me know.”

Ace Trapolla:

Highkey he’s the one that put it there

Literally only thought that other people were gonna get caught

Spends quite a bit of time lingering near the doorway and laughing into his cup when people realize what they walked into

It’s not until you’ve attempted to drag him to the other room through the doorway that he realize that he’s screwed

Cater sneakily points it out to you

You grab him excitedly and kiss him on the lips

“Oh...ok. Thanks”

Walks away stunned and redder than Riddle’s hair

Deuce Spade:

Oh no

He forgot this was going to be here

The two of you have been standing in this doorway for about 3 minutes and you haven’t seemed to notice

Unfortunately he knows that he can’t walk away now that he’s been caught

Takes a deep breath and kisses you

Not understanding what happened you pull back shocked

“Oh my god I’m so sorry-”

You see the mistletoe and kiss him again

Smiling shyly you pull back and walk away

“Wow I kissed someone”

Ace is snorting in the background

Savanaclaw:

Leona Kingscholar:

Deeply annoyed by this situation

His tail swishes irattably behind him

Whoever did this was going to get eaten

More upset that he was foolish enough to get caught by it

Realizing that you’re staring at it curiously he sighs and puts his fingers on the bridge of his nose

Here goes nothing

He growls and grabs your chin, tilting it towards him

He kisses you harshly and growls again in distaste that he had to be coerced into this by a damn plant

Pulling away he only takes a second to admire your flushed face and dazed look before grunting “African mistletoe” and stalking away

Pointedly ignores any stares he gets and growls under his breath

Would deny it to his death but he enjoyed the brief kiss

Would also deny that he wants to do it again

Ruggie Bucchi:

Snickers at the face you make when you realize you guys are underneath a mistletoe hanging

Greatly appreciates the blush that decorates your cheeks

He honestly doesn’t care all that much about the mistletoe

It’s just a kiss

He leans forward and pecks you on the lips before pulling back and snickering again

“You should see your face y/n”

Stunned you mumbled and walked away

He wished he had taken the chance to kiss you again

Jack Howl:

Oh boy

Tsundere wolf blushes like a madman

He’s pretty much in denial that mistletoe exists

You noticed that the two of you had crossed underneath it and pulled him back to the doorway

“Rules are rules”

He didn’t appreciate you saying that

Sighing he moves in to kiss your cheek

You turn at the last second and place your lips together

He’s in complete shock and his face makes you giggle

Will deny to the end of his life that his tail wagged like crazy afterwards

Octavinelle:

Azul Ashengrotto:

Isn’t the type to let his fluster show at first

Will casually gesture to the mistletoe and ask you how you feel about the tradition

Unconsciously strikes up a conversation about it to prolong the inevitable

At some point you realize what he’s doing and reach to kiss him

He makes a noise of surprise but quickly contains himself to kiss you back gently

You pull away and continue to talk about christmas traditions as if nothing happened

No there isn’t a blush on his face (he’s just developed a fever that’s all)

Jade Leech:

Sneaky eel

This man probably conspired to put it there in the first place

Also meant to get you underneath it with him

He takes a moment to watch you shift uneasily as he eyes you like you’re prey

Taller then you so he leans down and places a hand underneath your chin

Kisses you slowly and teases you a but by nibbling on your lip

When you think he’s going to deepen it he pulls back with a smile

“Darling if you wanted to kiss me you should have just said so. No need to use traditions as an excuse.”

Yes that was his way of flustering you further while also slyly mentioning that he didn’t just kiss you because of the mistletoe

Floyd Leech:

Not a fan of the mistletoe game

He’s aware of it and makes a point not to get caught underneath it

He’s not a kisser

He’s a hugger

If he ever did meet someone under the mistletoe he would pretend to be oblivious to the proper tradition and squeeze them instead

With you however he is very excited to be caught

Picks you up with a squeal and squeezes you tightly

His inner sadist loves how you squirm and gasp for breath

Also loves the redness of your face when you see the mistletoe

“Come here Shrimpy~ You owe me a squeeze~”

Thinking he wasn’t going to kiss you, you brace yourself for a squeeze

He does squeeze you but he kisses you too

Also bites your cheek lightly

“There. Now everyone knows that Shrimpy is my mistletoe buddy, hehe”

Scarabia:

Kalim Al Asim:

Mistletoe everywhere

Literally is obsessed with hugging his friends and it gives him an excellent excuse to do so

He just didn’t count on you being there

Not that he minds

Holds your face in his hands and peppers you with kisses

His brilliant smile is blinding afterwards

��Y/n! Y/n! Let’s go find some more mistletoe, kay?”

Jamil Viper:

Lowkey aware of the Mistletoe he just hasn’t had the chance to move Kalim away from it

Of course he has to chase Kalim through one of the doorways

Bumps into you

You’re surprised and go to move when you see the mistletoe

Flushes a deep red and has to take a moment to collect himself

Calmly he leans closer to you

Kisses passionately but also nervously

Beet red when he pulls back and hides his face with his hood for the rest of the night

Pomefiore:

Vil Schoenheit:

Will absolutely not kiss you with his lipstick on

Honey never

You can kiss his hand of course but that’s about it

What you don’t expect is that he will pay up later when he’s removed his lip makeup

Probably called you to his room after the day was done and pecked you on the lips

“There now I have fulfilled the tradition and don’t owe you anything

Also put chapstick on you beforehand

“That flavor suits you. Keep it.”

Rook Hunt:

Due to his hunter instincts and excellent observation skills he knows where every piece of mistletoe is hung

Likely guided you right underneath it without your knowledge

If you’re extra careful about them then he might just shoot another one up

“Did you put that there?” “Shhh, ma chérie."

Will kiss your cheeks, nose, and lips in that order

Calls you beautiful and asks you to spend some more time with him

Highkey Rook is the only one at NRC that knows what he’s doing with the ladies

Epel Felmier:

Epel has literally never kissed anyone in his life

There are rarely any people his age in his hometown either so he has little experience with dating or even dealing with anyone he’s interested

Finding himself under mistletoe with anyone would be terrifying nonetheless you

You!

You’re cute and sweet and kind and a lot of things

But most importantly you’re someone who he wants to kiss

Which means that you and him can not kiss under any circumstances

But here you are and here he is under the mistletoe

And know you have to kiss

The kiss was short and barely existent but it was sweet and when he pulled back his face was equal parts red and pale

You giggled and kissed his cheek

Ignihyde:

Idia Shroud:

Ok Idia is really shy

So it’s super unlikely he’s gonna end up anywhere with an actual mistletoe

But Ortho dragged him out of his room so here he is

And now he’s under the mistletoe

With you…

And regretting all of his life choices

But he forgets all of that once your lips touch

He’s not cold like you thought he would be

He’s actually very hot

The kiss only lasts for a second because you were cut off by his hair turning red and flaming up

Ortho drags him back to his room where he resets enough to remember where he is

Once he figures out what happened he’s gonna flare up again

Poor Ortho has to spray the whole room with the fire extinguisher

Ortho Shroud (platonic):

Ortho is delighted at all the cool traditions and decorations that are strewn about the place

He spends Christmas with Idia of course but he finally managed to get him out of his room long enough to have a look around

There are some things that he doesn’t recognize like the dangling plant clippings that people are kissing under

When he finds himself under one with you he points to it and asks about it

You giggle and tell him before quickly kissing his cheek

The younger Shroud tells Idia afterwards and laughs at his older brother’s face

Idia is at least fond of your friendship with Ortho

He thinks it’s fine that you told him about mistletoe as long as Ortho remembers to avoid it at all costs for the rest of his active life

Diasomnia:

Malleus Draconia:

Has no clue what mistletoe is

“Child of man what is this thing here?”

You flush and start to stammer about mistletoe

Cue Lilia popping in with a thorough explanation about of how mistletoe works and pays special attention to the fact that Malleus has to kiss you

The vampiric man takes his leave and smirks knowingly when you glare daggers into his back

Malleus stays silent for a moment before leaning down and kissing you

He is a surprisingly good kisser and you are too shocked to do anything

“Well then, I hope that the tradition was to your liking child of man.”

Would never admit that he is blushing and walks away quickly

Oh Malleus the tradition was very much to your liking

Lilia Vanrouge:

This man has been waiting for you to show up

Highkey pops in just as you walk underneath the mistletoe

“Hello there”

Your mini heart attack means little to him as he giggles and points up

“Look mistletoe”

Then he kisses you

Experienced kisser and leaves you breathless

“We should do this again but right now I have to go deal with one of the, ahem, children” (Sebek)

Stunned you stand there for a moment before wondering what happened

“Um ok later then”

Yes he did here you and will take that as permission to kiss you again

Hi there if you are looking for Sebek and/or Silver I am very sorry to say that I don’t write for them just yet because I don’t know them all too well. Very sorry and hope the other headcanons were to your liking. Happy holidays!

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yummyinmytwistedtummy · 4 years ago

Text

TWST character kink interactions!!!

I have never seen a kink interaction so I decided to make one. I figured it would satisfy the masses while I (ridiculously slowly) work on writing up some more stories!

These will work like most character interactions, simply send in your action/speech, and the character will respond accordingly. Please be specific if you want a vore interaction, stuffing interaction, burping interaction or something along those lines.

The same rules apply with these but I will run through them again just in case.

Will only do:

burping

stuffing

safe vore/accidental vore

Tiny reader vore/full sized reader vore depends on character

Please adhere to these when requesting!

Characters you can interact with: (* means I will write full sized vore)

Ace Trappola

Deuce Spade

Leona Kingscholar*

Ruggie Bucchi

Jack Howl

Floyd Leech*

Kalim Al Asim

Jamil Viper

Idia Shroud

Malleus Draconia

These characters will respond in accordance to their canonical personalities and gluttony/habits!

Examples:

Ask: Stuffed Leona, *rubbing his stomach and pushes on pressure pocket*

Answer: Leona winces suddenly and opens his mouth to scold you, but pauses and begins to look a bit sick. Suddenly he releases a massive belch.

“BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRP!!!!!”

The demi lion slumps and moans which turns into a smaller after burp. He lays in the comfortable bliss for a moment before he looks at you with slight annoyance.

“Could have warned me. Damn Herbivore.” He grabs your head and pulls you close, your face inches from his.

“Should have told me you were still so damn thirsty.” He looks you straight in the eyes and belches loudly in your face. “I’m more than happy to supply you with what you want so long as you continue to blush like that when I do.”

---------------------------------

Ask: Could I get an interaction with Malleus where I have been vored and he’s worried that I got hurt in the process?

Answer: “HHRRRRMMMMMMLPH!!! poosh” Malleus stifles a belch with his fist. “Pardon me.”

He looks down at his stomach and waits for some sort of signal that you are down there. When he gets none, he begins to panic.

“Darling?!” He asks worriedly and begins to undo the clothes over his midsection. “Darling, are you alright? Please answer me!”

You snap out of your blissful daze and begin to make your way over to the stomach lining, which has tensed considerably as Malleus unconsciously searches for you in his gut.

“Malleus! Malleus, I’m ok!” You press a hand against the slippery flesh wall and almost instantly you feel it relax.

“Oh thank goodness.” Malleus breathes out a sigh of relief and slumps on instinct before correcting his posture once more. You giggle at your boyfriends antics and begin to rub large circles on his stomachs walls.

He moans and smiles down at his midsection, pressing a hand against it and relishing the feeling of your considerably tinier ones pushing back. As much as he wanted to indulge your...interests, his greatest priority would always be your safety.

----------------------------------

Ask: Kalim ate something that didn’t agree with him and now he’s feeling bloated but can’t get the air up so I offer to help. (Lot’s of belching)

Answer: The white haired boy groaned and nodded hastily.

“Please please please help me. It hurts!” He whines as he lays back on his bed and pulls his shirt up to give you a view of his slightly distended gut, filled uncomfortably with air.

You flush and quickly begin to soothe his achy belly. Your hands travel from the very top of his stomach down to the lower under belly in search of a good place to press.

Cautiously you experiment with prodding at different areas, but it only results in a few shallow burps followed by painful hiccups.

Kalim whimpers and shifts uncomfortably, unintentionally pushing his stomach out further for you.

Finally you find a particularly tight spot just below his belly button and press into it with just enough force to feel it move. His gut releases a loud groan and gurgles deeply as you push. Kalim’s breath hitches and he presses a hand against his mouth as if he was going to be sick. Suddenly he lurches forwards and his hand is blown back,

“BLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR- HHHHHWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRLP!!!!!!!!”

“BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRK!!!!!”

“BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUURRRRLCH!!!” “HWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUURRRRP!!!!!”

An absolutely titanic belch rips free from his throat and echo’s through the room, loud enough that more than half the dorm could have heard it. The giant eructation blasted for nearly 10 seconds and was powerful enough that it made the hanging decorations over his room shake and rattle.

When it finally came to an abrupt close Kalim barely had time to catch his breath before he releases a smaller after burp followed by several more powerful belches.

“Hah, hah, ooooooooohhhh... HUUAARP!” Kalim fell backwards and moaned loudly. He panted and gasped for breath, eyes crossed and lidded. His face was flushed from effort and a stream of drool slid down his chin.

“Heh heh, thanks...” You were too stunned and flustered to do anything but nod.

#twst #twst wonderland #feeder kink #belly kink #kinkystuff #kink blog #stuffing #stuffing kink #stuffed gut #burp #burp kink #belly burp #burping #burping kink #v/ore

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

Text

The Cowboy - Part 2

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol)

Word count: 1708

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday starting 7th January.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3

You barely recovered before he walked off, rounding the outside of the building. Scrambling after him, you soon fell into step with the son of the household.

The incredibly attractive Jung son.

“So you’ll be able to put on the power?”

“Sure, I’ll just wind up the generator and in about three hours-”

“Generator?! Hours?!”

He laughed then, the sound making you halt in your tracks in a daze. Glancing back at you, he smirked. “You’re sure easy to fool, Miss City.”

“Well, I was expecting a teen with the way your mother spoke of you, Mr Cowboy.”

“We’re a loving bunch around here,” he answered, walking over to a box on the side of the house and patting it. “All I have to do is flick a switch, and you’ll have power.”

“Thank god.”

“Not willing to rough it even for a night?”

“Rough it?”

He smirked again. “You sure don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“So people keep telling me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will,” he replied, staring back at you for a moment. You raised an eyebrow, and he chuckled, pulling open the box and turning on the main switch. You saw the lights in the house you had flicked on come to life, and you clapped your hands together with glee.

“Yes!”

“Are you scared of the dark?”

“Are you always this full of yourself?” you shot back, and he grinned.

“Somewhat.”

“Anything else I need to know about so I can survive the night?”

After shutting the fuse box, he returned to your side, stuffing his hands deep into his jean pockets and leaned towards you. “You sound like high maintenance.”

“Perhaps I am.”

“You’re in for a rude awakening here then.”

“I’m adaptable,” you announced and he laughed. “What, I am!”

“This isn’t something you just get used to, Miss City. You’ll be gone before long.”

“And what will you do if I prove otherwise?” you challenged, and his eyes lit up, glinting with enjoyment.

You had to admit this banter was doing things for you too.

“There’s no point making plans for things that won’t come into fruition.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I know, but it seems that you’re enjoying it.”

“Fine,” you stated simply, throwing your hands up. “Thank you for turning on the power, Mr Cowboy.”

“Enjoy your night, Miss City.”

You both rounded back to the front of the house, where you went to the veranda, and he approached the truck. You eyed it warily. “Is that thing legal?”

“Don’t try and use too many appliances at once. Houses like these can get overloaded, and it’ll trip the fuse and turn the power off. I’ve got cattle to run tomorrow, so you’ll be without power for some time if you do that.”

You blinked, trying to decipher if he was being serious or not. He shrugged and opened the door to the truck. “R-Really?”

“Take it on as some friendly advice.”

“Ah, is that what it is.” You nodded with a laugh as he climbed into the cab of the vehicle. Dashing down to the driver’s side, you leaned on the open window, and he watched you curiously. “Can you give me some more friendly advice?”

“Don’t open the front door. There might be coyotes howling out in the distance that you’ll have to get used to and by the hay barn, there is an old owl that likes to hoot around three in the morning. You’re welcome.”

“Wait! I was meaning more like if there’s regular mobile data service out here. I’ve got some files to-”

“You’re in the wrong place if you want to be on the internet, Miss City. I’ll give you two days out here before you head on back to your four-gee or whatever the thing is called.”

“You’re getting on my nerves.”

He grinned. “And you’re on my door stopping me from getting home to dessert, ma’am.”

Lifting your arms off, he tipped his cowboy hat at you again and started up the truck. You shook your head as he reversed down the drive before turning the vehicle around.

“Wait! I didn’t even get your real name!” you called out into the night, pouting some.

It didn’t matter. Even if he was the most handsome guy you had seen in months, he was also not your type with how easily he assumed so little of you.

Fishing out your phone, you held it up in search for a stronger signal. Groaning when there was only one bar, you stomped into the house and shut the door behind you.

When your alarm went off the following morning, you were already wide awake, staring up at the ceiling in sheer frustration. The advice you had received last night had been helpful, but what you needed was earplugs instead. You never knew the wilderness to be so loud.

“How am I going to get enough sleep here until I can order some earplugs?” you questioned to no one in particular, sitting up in the bed. You had to admit, whilst the sounds of the outdoors had kept you up, the bed had been surprisingly comfy.

There had to be some perks for being this far detached from proper civilisation.

“Might as well get up,” you decided, flinging back the blankets and padding across the hall into the quaint bathroom. You hadn’t paid a lot of attention last night to the house, too exhausted from travelling for two days. As you did your morning skincare routine, you used the mirror to look around your space. It had a cozy cottage-core vibe that you had recently seen come up as a trend on Pinterest.

“Natty loves things like this,” you told the home, smiling softly before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

The house was decorated warmly. Although many modern conveniences were missing, you couldn’t help but feel like you were in a home that was cherished.

Someone must have loved this place like that at one point in time, you thought, jumping when the phone went off again.

“Hello?”

“Miss L/N, is that you?”

“Ah, yes it is, who am I speaking to?”

“Oh! June told me that someone was staying at the old Jung house so I figured I’d give you a bell and offer you some breakfast down at the diner. You won’t miss it. We’re the first building on Main Street.”

“That’s so kind of you to offer, but I have all the ingredients for a power green smoothie here-”

“Smoothie? Darling, a drink isn’t going to give you enough energy to get through your day.”

“Pardon?”

“Aren’t you starting your surveying job of Blayne today? There’s a lot to get through.”

Not really, you thought wickedly and bit your lip in case you said anything out loud. “Ah, right. Well, I’ll come down then.”

“Do come!” And then the line went dead.

“Who was I even speaking to?” you wondered when you placed down the phone, blinking slowly.

You got ready and headed down the bumpy drive and then another fifteen minutes until you reached what the inhabitants of this strange place called Main Street. You had to admit, it was the only area of Blayne were you saw more than two people at once, and it relaxed you to be back around people.

You hadn’t realised just how overcrowded the city was when you found yourself now missing the constant sight of people.

Once you parked your car, you got out and locked it, checking to make sure the door wouldn’t open. You heard a snigger from the sidewalk. “You’re new here.”

“Ah, yes.”

“You don’t need to lock your car here. No one is going to steal it,” the young girl said, eying you curiously. You nodded politely and walked inside the diner, instantly hit with the smell of fried food.

You were hungrier than you expected.

“Miss L/N!” a voice called, and everyone in the establishment turned to look at you.

Smiling politely and rushing over to the front counter, you sat down on a stool. The woman who greeted you smiled graciously. “I’m May.”

“May… June-”

May laughed. “Our parents weren’t all that creative with our names. I’m June’s older sister.”

“Oh! It’s nice to meet you. Please, feel free to call me Y/N.”

“Earl, can you serve up our guest the breakfast special?” May called out without taking her eyes off of you.

You smiled gently before darting your gaze to the menu distractedly. “You have a nice place here. Do you sell soy chai lattes?”

“Soy what?”

“Ah, nothing. Coffee. Coffee will do.”

“Black or white, darling? Any sugar?”

After sorting yourself with caffeine, you then glanced around again. There were about six others in total, and most of them were looking in your direction. Nodding politely at them, you turned back to May.

“I guess you don’t get many visitors.”

“They don’t stay long, no,” she replied, placing a large plate loaded with a fried assortment and pancakes. You eyed the meal. It would be triple the macros for your daily intake. Still, you were hungry.

You picked up your knife and fork. “They don’t?”

“I think the last person stayed a week. That was pretty long.”

“Only a week?” you cut into a hashbrown. “Why did they leave so soon?”

“Unless you’re a farmer or born into farming, you wouldn’t really enjoy being out here. We have only twelve stores. Nothing arrives here quickly, and you have to be pretty self-sufficient to survive. There’s not a lot calling people here.”

“There could be. I mean, you have a lot of land-”

“For farming,” May cut in, and you swallowed down a bit of hashbrown before nodding.

“Yes, but it’s beautiful and picturesque. People who want to escape the daily grind would flock to a place like this if there was an establishment to stay in.”

“Our inn hasn’t had a guest since nineteen-eighty-three. You want to know why?”

“It has a ghost story?” you asked innocently, and May merely smiled haughtily.

“The only people staying in Blayne were born and raised here, Y/N. You’ll soon realise the utopia you and your company are hoping to build out here is a pipe dream.”

_________________

Part 3

[NCT Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

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anonymous0writer · 3 years ago

Text

how you get the girl | wonderland s.s

author: @anonymous0writer

wc: 1946

warnings: none!

a/n: i literally wrote this right after the first because i love this so much

summary: as the heat rises, so does the curious tension between a certain green-eyed beauty and a handsome dark-haired boy. the impending end of their idyllic last summer looms, prompting stiles to admit a long-held secret.

The pale, smooth skyline of azure and the sprinkle of voluminous clouds lay over the horizon, the air thick with early summer humidity, the only relief a tepid breeze that snaked through the trees and appeared in short bursts like a shy child. Summer had grabbed Beacon Hills in a sudden burst of a heatwave and refused to let go; residents of the town taking to smaller clothes and long hauls to the beach for a break of the unbearable heat. Windows were down in cars, letting the speed of the car create the racing breeze that offered peace and houses had their AC’s turned up, people huddling in rooms to keep the heat at bay.

In the particular case of Lydia Martin and her friends, refuge was found in the small, prettily decorated guest house positioned off the clear blue watered pool of the Martin residence. The teens were slumped along the edge of the pool, legs dipped into the cool water in an attempt to cool themselves down.

Scott McCall sat at the pool’s edge, his mop of dark hair stuck to his forehead in sweaty clumps, the boy mumbling a soft curse before he tore off his thin shirt and leaned forward, dropping into the gleaming, turquoise pool with a loud, attention grabbing splash. His friends, a collection of girls and a boy best friend added to their tight circle of companions rose their brows and looked on in mild amusement. Scott’s dark head popped up from under the water, his lips breaking into a goofy, lopsided grin.

“It’s so nice.” He entices, grin still slanting across his face.

Delaney, her tall figure hunched and her long legs plunged into the refreshing, cerulean water, returned Scott’s infectious grin. In a hurried movement, she scrambled to her feet, her dark hair tied closely to the nape of her neck and her patterned, red swimsuit hugging her generous curves. Stiles covertly watches his friend with amber eyes, the memory of her lips crushed softly against his and her candied taste rushing over him a sudden waterfall. The dark-haired boy is pulled out of his reverie by the flying droplets of chilly water produced by Delaney’s cannonball into the wide pool. Stiles shakes off the memory with a comb through his thick, unruly umber colored hair, telling himself the tall beauty was drunk and didn’t appear to have any recollection of the delicately passionate moment. Some minuscule part of the boy wished that his feelings for Delaney were somehow reciprocated, but the sharp tang of alcohol on her lips crushed any foolishly childlike hope. Despite accidentally overhearing the news of Delaney and Brett’s inevitable breakup, Stiles saw how much his friend liked the broad shouldered lacrosse player. He was a fool for ever thinking anything different.

“Stiles!” The shriek of laughter snaps Stiles out of his daze again, Lydia’s mouth forming his name again as she beckons him to join the rest of their friends. Stiles studies the idyllic scene of his friends in a sentimental attempt to burn the memory in his mind, wishing to stay in this short second of time forever. Malia, her light hair pulled into two tight, now soaked braids, is seated on a laughing Scott’s broad, sun-kissed shoulders as his hands grip the curve of her thighs to stabilize his girlfriend. The couple is laughing and splashing wildly at a howling Delaney. Her dark hair came loose of its tie, the curls floating in the water as she tries to move sluggishly through the water to escape Scott’s sporadic splashing. Lydia is behind her, her hands clutching Delaney’s as the girls try to shield themselves. Stiles' tan face breaks into a beaming smile, the edges of his mouth tugging up and showing off his dimples. An ache to live forever in this idyllic moment forms under the pulse of his heart.

“Stiles, c’mon!” Scott encourages, his dark ochre eyes soft and welcoming.

Delaney looks up, her sage eyes watching as Stiles peels off his half-buttoned blue flannel, exposing the pale, freckled chest of his wiry frame and the sharp cut of his hips. A fierce blush rises to her freckled cheeks as the boy nimbly climbs into the crystal water. The haze clouded memory of Stiles’s soft, fluffy dark hair in her grasp and the lingering taste of his salty lips flashed in her mind, making her cheeks reach hotter temperatures than the humidity of the air. She knows the dark-haired boy remembers the kiss, but she wonders if he meant to kiss her back or if he was just caught up in the ‘we’re all leaving, so what matters anymore’ rationale. Delaney swallows sharply, turning her attention to the game of chicken being organized. Stiles offers to carry Delaney on his shoulders, choosing her as a teammate without a beat of hesitation. Delaney meets his coffee colored eyes for a charged second before she grabs his freckle spattered shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin against her palm. Once seated on his shoulders, she tilts violently to the left, but Stiles steadies her with his hands. His long fingers dig into the tan skin of her thighs, laughing as Delaney pats his damp hair in a gesture of thanks.

The inseparable group dissolves into laughter, enjoying the cool water to beat the heat of the short summer. The lingering threat of their assured end is shoved in the backs of their mind, using it to push themselves further into the moment. The five teens were desperate to outrun their doom.

___

The embers sparked and hovered dizzily around the flickering orange flames, casting dancing and flickering shadows of gold on the ground. The day had crawled away slowly, finding a hidden place to stay as the night descended around the sky, blanketing it in heavy dusk. Delaney lay tucked sleepily in a chair arranged before the sultry fire, limbs folded and sweatshirt obscured face leaning against the fabric back of the seat. Her dark, still damp hair was tied at the nape of her neck and falling out from under the scrunched edges of her hood. Her hands played idly with the frayed strings of the Cyclone hoodie that didn’t even belong to the chartreuse eyed girl. It was Stiles, the boy having given her his worn, and former lacrosse hoodie when the girl expressed the chill of the night air years ago and she’d failed to give it back. Delaney tugged the sweatshirt up to hide the bottom half of her face, imagining the dark-haired boy’s heady scent still lingering on the maroon, velvet-like fabric. Part of her knew she never made a real attempt to give the hoodie back, liking the way it fit on her curvaceous body and the way she could carry a piece of her favorite person around.

“Hey, Del?” Scott’s soft, low voice floats over her, prompting Delaney to lift her exhaustion-heavy head and peer at her friend. “We’re going inside, it’s cooling down. Wanna come?”

Scott was standing tall, dark eyes warm and kind as Lydia fluttered at his side; Malia already retired to the house and deeply asleep on the old pullout couch of Lydia’s basement. Stiles was still seated next to Delaney, the two staring in relaxed silence at the flickering flames of the slowly decaying fire. Delaney’s pale eyes slid to the boy next to her, watching to see if he made any twitch to move into the house, and when Stiles gave a soft shrug and continued his supervision to the glowing embers, Delaney refused gently.

“I’m good. We’ll go inside soon enough to watch the movie.”

Scott gave a nod and turned away, leaving Lydia to grin at her curled up best friend.

“Alright. Don’t stay too long, you may fall asleep.” Lydia jokes, a slanted smile gracing her pretty, delicate features.

Stiles’s coffee eyes trailed over Lydia’s features, studying her softly and giving her a small smile before the red-haired girl danced into the house with a swish of her hips. His eyes lingered, his reverie of the fire broken for a brief second by Lydia’s glorious presence.

“Stiles,” A soft plea of a voice came from the brunette next to him, her eyes worrying over him.

Stiles turns, finding Delaney already watching him, no doubt catching his rapacious gaze on their cherry haired friend. His cheeks blaze pink lightly, barely perceptible in the thick dark of the night. Stiles plows a hand through the thick locks of his dark hair, still sodden from the sun-filled hours spent in the turquoise waters of the large pool. He watches as Delaney blinks, her dark lashes fanning over the smooth plains of her cheeks slowly before she lifts her eyelids; which seems to take a strenuous amount of work by the speed of the flutter. Stiles’s breath hitches, the way it does when something snatches your breath greedily, sneaking it away as you take in the sight before you. A flash of Lydia’s perfectly serene and porcelain appearance flickers in his mind, crashing with the charming innocence of Delaney and the exhaustion tugging at her actions. Suddenly, Stiles is caught between them two, suspended between the devoted years of yearning for the beloved ginger and the sense of serene happiness and unrelenting comfort from the dark-haired beauty. Stiles swallows thickly, forcing the war of attention from his mind and refocuses desperately on the flare of the dying fire.

“Do you want to play something?” Delaney’s soft voice lures him farther into the pull of her magnetism.

“Like what?”

“Twenty questions? Something that doesn’t require me to move.”

“Sure.” Stiles agrees, leaning further back in his seat, feeling the heat of the fire shimmer over him in pleasant waves. His sepia eyes flutter close, drinking in the night with his other senses. “What are you thinking of right now?”

Delaney’s pink lips quirked up at the corners, her dimples showing softly. Stiles loved to remake games, except this time these were just straight up questions instead of making it more complex. She leaned her own head back, closing her pale eyes and relaxed, letting the exhaustion from the day’s activities calm her.

“I’m thinking about you.”

“And what about me?”

“Is that another question, Stiles?” Delaney laughed, the sound sweet and short, hovering in the air. “You know you only have twenty.”

A beat of silence followed before Stiles’s soft, raspy voice answered. “What about me?” He repeated.

“Do you like Lydia?”

The question hung in the air, a pivotal moment of truth that could alter their relationship in ways they couldn’t have imagined. Delaney’s throat was tight, her question a risky plea that flew right over Stiles’s head. Stiles didn’t realize Delaney’s secret attempt at revealing her feelings despite how poorly she hid it; raw emotions and the truth written over her olive skin. Her sage eyes scan Stiles’s profile, optimism playing in her irises like a splash of black paint against a white wall; stark and obvious. Stiles turns to face her, russet eyes locking onto hers as they stare at each other. Hope catches in the girl’s throat, hard and dangerous. Stiles’s eyes run over his best friend, slow and steady as if he’s trying to figure out the answer from her face. As the brunette boy stares, he’s lost. Fallen in the depths of Delaney’s charm and small, gregarious smiles and easy nature. The boy can’t stop himself from getting pulled into her orbit, and at this moment, he doesn’t try to stop it. He loses the fight gladly, finding peace in the solidarity of his best friend. At this moment, Delaney is the only answer. Delaney is the answer.

“No, I like you, Delaney.”

#stiles stilinski #stiles fanfiction #stiles imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #teenwolf #stiles x oc #stiles x delaney #stiles teen wolf #taylor swift #taylor swift 1989 #1989 era #songfic

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a-smile-hides · 4 years ago

Text

WARPAINT - I.R.

WARNINGS: long fic, description of battles, blood, wounds, death, some time jumps, I had a bit of a block during this …

This was actually requested, so thank you for that! Sorry for the wait. I kind of got carried away with this. My first draft was not so long, but then I realised I kind of wanted a stronger reader and now… well this happened. Hope you enjoy!! xxx

The request: Hello! I wasn't sure if requests were open or not, but I had this idea were the reader is not a shield maiden and prefers doing other things, and shes not exactly that well-built. Maybe there's an attack on kattagat and she's one of the people who were taken? But she fights her way out and goes back to kattagat when ivar was planning a rescue mission (nobody thinks she could fight) but she can because of some reason in the past and she was forced to? I'm literally just throwing ideas.

---

“Correct me if I am wrong, but the Christians that you just defeated have invited you and your brothers – and only you three – to come to their palace to talk about peace?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelieve. “You honestly can’t believe that Ivar.”

Ivar sighed. His back was turned towards you as he tightened the straps of his gloves.

“Ivar… Do you?”

Ivar threw his head back, looking up to the sky above him. The sky was bright blue. A couple of birds flew over, following the largest one in their group to their next adventure. Behind him a couple of men sat together whispering and pointing at the exchange in front of them, wondering aloud what or who made you qualified to step up and talk to one of their leaders. “Of course not. It is not me who has turned into a fool.”

His words made you bite your lip. Merely a few hours after the army had returned victorious, a petit man dressed in beautiful red robes decorated with golden leaves had fearfully entered the camp. Stuttering and barely looking into anyone’s eyes, the man proclaimed his lord acknowledged their triumph and had asked the three leaders to come to the castle at sunset. In that way they could discuss the outcome of this victory. This lord, the prince of this dying land, clearly did not want to lose any time.

Ubbe, wanting to take this opportunity of peace, had immediately accepted the offer to which the messenger nodded and ran away, looking like a dog with its tail between his legs. Ivar had been furious and confused by his brother’s naïve decision. But he could not ignore the fact that a part of him was curious to what this prince wanted to offer in exchange for “peace”. This soil was rich, and he knew this land held unknown treasures. Its only flaw was the leadership. And so, he wanted to follow his brothers to this castle. Yet, he knew how foolish they would be if they did not bring their most trusted warriors to the castle.

“You are going no matter what I say?” The question came out as a statement. You didn’t need any answer. The silence that followed and the slight second his movements halted were enough. Slowly, he turned around. A sly grin concealed the doubts he had.

“Do I suspect some concern?”

You licked your lips, shifting your weight to one leg. “I am only worried about my place in this camp. You know they don’t like me here, Ivar. Without you, they might come up with something to get rid of me.” You said laughing airily, your head subtlety nodding in the direction of the men behind you whose eyes were still locked on you two. And although you said it with a small grin, your words held a certain truth. And he knew it too.

Ivar nodded his head. “I would like to see them try.” He whispered, narrowing his eyes.

You could hold back you laugh. Ivar pressed his lips together at the sound, hiding his smile as he watched you. And then, the mood changed. That airy, light feeling disappeared. Everything became serious, while the two of you just stared at each other.

“Be careful?” You asked him again. Your voice was small, barely audible.

Ivar looked up at you and extended his hand, mentioning you to come closer. In a few steps you stood in front of him, patiently waiting for his answer. Tenderly, he grabbed your hand. His thumb brushed over your skin, while his other hand followed the curve of your hip. His brilliant blue eyes stared right up at you. The corners of his mouth slightly curled upwards.

Ivar breathed in deeply, leading your hand to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his lips on your hand.

With that you got his silent promise.

***

A fire crackled in the background as the sun began her descent. The dry ground felt cool against your feet. The birds chirped loudly as they flew over the camp. From behind you, you heard someone howl as his friend emptied his cup in one big gulp. The music that was played by some of Sigurd friends amused the crowd. And slowly but surely more and more people joined the drinking game going on around the fire.

The mood was light and happy. Every last man or woman that decided to come along this raid was cheerful because of the recent victory on those pathetic Christians. Ivar had used his tactics and bright mind to conceive a master plan. Ubbe had led them forward with his skills as a warrior and Hvitserk gave the men the support they needed in the middle of the fight. The army, for once, was not big in numbers, but with those three it hardly was necessary.

No one knew who came up with the idea to organize this raid. But not a single soul cared. Since Ragnar’s disappearance, those voyages had been put to a halt and many men and women longed for this opportunity. An opportunity to raid and find treasures and make their families proud. An opportunity to get access to Valhalla.

Now that the three brothers had left to negotiate, the camp had decided to feast. No one was worried for their safety. Even if they had been gone for longer than the few hours they anticipated. The road to the battlefield had been long and tiring. Who knew how far this castle lay?

A fine grin formed on your lips as the sounds filled your ears. With your back turned towards them all as you let your body sway to the rhythm of the music. With both hands you lifted your skirt up, keeping it out of the dust’s range you kicked up as your movements got bigger. The music swelled up and you closed your eyes.

Your mind had been clouded by worries and possible disastrous outcomes for the sons of Ragnar, but now for the very first time since they left, you could let go of those dark thoughts.

Getting lost in the story the tune told you, you did not notice the girl that joined your side. She had come along this raid with her mother, a gifted healer. It was clear she had inherited this knowledge, and therefore wished to accompany her mother on this voyage. Her big eyes were focused on you as she tried her best to imitate your moves. Many times, she almost tripped over her own feet.

With your eyes closed, you kept twirling and dancing to the music. Lost to the world around you and the crowd that watched with amused eyes to the show going on in front of them. Some men catcalled while others were completely obvious to the dance. As the music slowed down, you took a moment to catch your breath. Only now you noticed the people that had their gaze pointed at you.

“Is it true?”

The high voice of the young girl next to you made you snap out of your daze, looking at her with your eyebrow raised.

The young girl grinned; her eyes glimmered with mischief. “Is it true you dance for the brothers like this every evening? They say you do it for Ivar whenever he demands it.”

Her innocent question made you snort; her innocence could not stop the irritation from building up inside of you. It was not the first time someone had asked you this.

Unlike other children, who helped their parents in their line of work, you often hung around the brothers. Acting as a shadow and sneaking up on them. This continued until you came of age, and Hvitserk saw you disappear into the woods with your father. He dragged a heavy cart with him, knives, axes and ropes thrown into it, while you carried a large basket with food in it. At first it did not worry him, but when you did not return for five days, questions arose amongst the brothers. When the day of your return arrived, the men were confused, but happy to see you. Only Ivar had been reluctant, focussing more on the scars and bruises that covered your body. It was only after you had shaken your head at him and asked Sigurd to play your favourite song once again that he warmed up, trying his best to hide his smile as you danced to the music his brother played.

Many wondered why you always danced until your feet got raw. Swaying your hips and twirling around in circles until the sun set in the evening. Many thought it was the effect of plants that you were not supposed to eat or the consequence of your mysterious disappearing in the woods. You learned fast that everything that was not done by most people, was considered odd.

This could be the reason why the youngest prince let you walk beside him. He too was considered as someone odd, someone unusual. Although you were not a shieldmaiden, nor a woman with a famous background, a connection was shared.

Ivar often said to be irritated by your presence and loudly proclaimed that when he was around his brothers. He would hide his smile, only giving it when he knew no one else was around. Sometimes he would utter out a sneaky comment as you passed them, making Hvitserk snicker and Sigurd roll his eyes. Yet never would he allow another to say those out loud. The ones who dared to mock you in his presence usually ended up with a nasty cut on their forehead.

“Y/N, you’re ignoring my question.” The healer’s daughter sang out.

This time you laughed out heartily. “People believe what they want to believe. I must say that I don’t know wh-“

Your voice died as you looked to your left, where the road lay on which Ivar, Ubbe and Hvitserk had departed. Appearing at the horizon was a horse, soon followed by four others. Their riders hitting the animals to make them run faster. Squinting your eyes at the moving figures, you saw how each of them seemed to be shouting, one even raising their sword high in the air. The metal reflected some of the sunlight and made turn your head. The sight only made your heart miss a beat. Behind you, although hard to see due to the evening sun, you could make out the silhouettes of the men that slowly stepped out of the woods.

The girl beside you noticed your worried gaze and followed it to the tree line. Her cheeky smile disappeared immediately once she too noticed the men storming at your camp. All of them carrying various weapons.

The young girl screamed out, making the musicians stop playing and everyone look up. Frightened the girl ran in the direction of her mother’s tent, while you shouted out at the top of your lungs.

“Ambush!”

***

“Does he really think he can bribe us with a bit of land, now?”

Ivar’s soft but menacing words made every Christian man in the large palace room look up alarmed. They did not know what he was saying, because suddenly he had changed to his own language, but his tone had changed drastically. During this whole ordeal, the young man had not spoken much. Only asking a couple of questions on a light and airy tone. Now it seemed as if his patience had reached its end.

“Do not forget that we are in another country, Ivar”

“Ubbe, this kingdom is dying. You are the one forgetting we destroyed them on the battlefield. We should just raid and move on. Maybe we can send word to our home. To little Sigurd. He could stand in as our man here?” He grinned, “Then at least he does something useful.”

Hvitserk lowered his head as Ubbe sighed out.

The prince coughed, snapping the men out of their argument. This man, the only living member of the royal family, had been sitting on his throne uncomfortably ever since the Viking brothers had arrived. He had invited them over in hopes of finding a truce. Some form of agreement so that he and every last resident in his land could come out of this alive. But so far, none of his offers had pleased all the brothers.

“We could take the land, Ivar. The best that is out there. We can demand it from him.” Hvitserk urged, a wide grin on his face. Ubbe nodded at him, patting him on the back. The prince grinned at the interaction.

Ivar rolled his eyes. Something did not feel right. The land was theirs to take. This prince knew it too. He did not get why his brothers suddenly became too soft to continue.

Ivar’s suspicion only grew when a slim man dressed in the same red and golden robes as the messenger that directed them here entered the room. His gaze was only pointed at his lord, trying his best to avoid the heathens that he feared. Bowing for a second, the man stepped forward. He opened his mouth, but then closed it as he finally locked eyes with the three men sitting in front of him. Those heathens knew his language. Leaning forward, he quickly whispered something in the prince’s ear which made him sit up straight. The prince nodded his head at his messenger, thanking him and letting him leave.

For the first time, he stepped off his throne and walked towards the three brothers. He took a moment, nodding to himself as if he were encouraging himself to continue. “Good news, my informant just told me the council has agreed to come together and talk about this arrangement.” The prince stretched his arms out wide, a hopeful smile on his face. Ubbe and Hvitserk nodded their head at him, while Ivar looked away. “This all on the condition that you spare the people and myself and do not attempt another attack on my kingdom.”

***

Blood covered the dusty ground as the large group of men fought their way through the camp. Each of them entering the tents to drag the ones that tried to hide in them outside, claiming their most valuable belongings as their own. Laughing wickedly, each of them left the tent ravished behind them, setting them on fire once all the goods had been taken out of it. Women thrashed around in their holds as men of different ages fought bravely against the marching forces.

It became clear very early that this was a planned attack. A strategical set in a game of vengeance. The clearing had been chosen carefully by the three brothers. It was large enough so anyone who had joined this raiding party could place their tent where they wanted to. It provided a good view on any upcoming forces. And enough scouts were present in the forest, carefully placed there to warn everyone if an attack may happen.

And yet, no signal was sent. Those Christian men snuck up on the camp as if someone had opened the door for them.

As you hid in the tent, you watched with sorrowful eyes how the girl that admired you earlier sat beside her mother. Her little body shook in fear, while tears kept rolling over her rosy cheeks. In the chaos of the attack, you had pulled them with you inside a tent. Your hideout was fragile. Nothing more than a piece of cloth. But at least it was something. A place to think of a better plan.

Two shieldmaidens had followed you inside. One tried her best to look outside, while the other tried to mend her broken bow.

Outside, the screams of anguish and the shouts of war became less prominent, making you think the Christian forces were retreating or at least, that the fight was ending. The shieldmaiden at the opening of the tent seemed to share your thoughts, lifting her hand in a silent demand for the girl to calm down.

Her brows were furrowed as she slowly pushed away the material that closed your hideout. Her eyes scanned the area, but seemed not to find any enemy.

“I can’t see anyone. We cannot stay here. The girl will betray us with her cries.” She whispered out. Her eyes going from her fellow shieldmaiden to the mother.

“She is a child!” The woman whisper-shouted, pressing her whimpering daughter against her chest.

“If she is a child than why is she even here?” The other shieldmaiden snapped back. “The camp is not a sacred place free of any harm.”

The mother scowled at the woman, running her hand over her daughter’s head in a comforting way. “I’ve come along raids many times. Not once have I-“

Her angry words were silenced by the gasp her daughter lets out. Frightened for the safety of her girl, the women grabbed her tightly. But her daughter had not been harmed. Her finger shakily pointed forward as her eyes filled themselves with tears.

The shieldmaiden that was looking out the tent, lay now dead on the floor. Her throat pierced by an arrow.

“Audhilde” Her fellow shieldmaiden whispered out, her hands clenched into fists. Without thinking you jumped up, grabbing the axe the fallen shieldmaiden had taken with her.

In the moment it took you to grab the axe, a second arrow entered the tent, missing you by an inch. The feeling of the arrow zooming past your face made you choke on your breath. Looking to the left you saw two men fight with each other, one of them holding a crossbow in his hands.

Sniffing, the other shieldmaiden took a seat next to you. Her eyes were clouded by the anger rising inside of her. With harsh movements, she lined up her arrow.

“What are you playing at?” She hissed, as you held her back.

Remaining silent, you stared straight into the fiery eyes of the shieldmaiden next to you, while your hand kept pushing the bow down. The woman in front of you frowned, opening her mouth, but was silenced when you placed your finger on your lip. Slowly, you crawled backwards, pulling the woman with you to hide behind the fabric.

Nodding your head towards the small mirror that was placed on the box next to the healer and her child, you made the shieldmaiden aware of the danger right outside the tent. In the reflection you could make out a man. He walked hastily around the tent in front of your hideout, before deciding that the one on its right was the one he needed. A second soldier joined him, and together they entered the tent.

You tilted your head, frowning at their odd behaviour. As you took a better look at them, your confusion only grew. They seemed to be in a rush. As if they were the ones being hunted, as if they were struck with fear and wanted this to end as fast as possible.

The shieldmaiden next to you grew tired of waiting inside the tent. Waiting was just the same as giving up, she thought. Pushing you aside, she took a seat next to the entrance. With the tip of her arrow she carefully pulled back the material of the tent, giving herself more room to get a good look at the outside world.

“Why haven’t they burned ours yet?” You wondered out loud.

The shieldmaiden snorted, looking over her shoulder briefly. “Why should I care?”

“Look around you. They are not walking around as men that believe in their cause. Only a few seem proud to fight for their lord. We are losing this. We are being slaughtered. And still, most of them seem so scared of what may come after them…”

Your words made the woman in front of you think for a second, before she shook her head and lined up her arrow once more.

“Try to get out as fast as you can. Run to the forest. Take ‘whiny’ and her mother with you. I will take care of those fuckers outside.” She groaned, before she shot her first arrow and launched herself out of the tent.

The shake of your head went not unnoticed by the mother, who looked at you confused. Her insides boiling with anger due to the shieldmaiden abandoning her and her only child in the middles of an ambush with a woman who seemed unfit to protect them.

“Pure suicide. This is going way too fast. Attacking now that the three brothers are not here ...” You mumbled out. The words coming out fast and quiet, crumbling the little hope the woman had. Not only did that shieldmaiden leave her alone with a seemingly unfit person, but now that person was mad too. “They planned this all!”

The conclusion made you snap back to the reality around you. The frightened girl shaking in her mother’s arms, the sounds of swords clashing just outside your tent, yells of terror in the distance. You looked down, the axe lying comfortably in your hand. With a small nod to the mother you told her to get up. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet, lifting her daughter up. Her eyes immediately went to the entrance of the tent, but you held her back.

“Go out there and you’ll die.”

The words made her halt. She wanted to scream back at you, but the confident glare on your face made her bite her tongue. “Where do we go then?”

Not answering her, you stepped forward slightly, bending down to get a look of the frightening world outside the tent. Outside the shieldmaiden who had carelessly run out of her hideout was fighting against one of the soldiers. Her face was covered in the blood of her opponents. Skilfully, she kept the man at bay with a sword she had taken from the ground. But beyond her knowing, a second man slowly made his way towards them. The grin on his face was vicious. He was one of the few who enjoyed this all. Collecting all of your power to restrain yourself, you watched how he snuck up on the shieldmaiden and sliced her shoulder with his sword. Turning around before you saw her end, you tried to see if you could find another way to escape.

There was no way you could fight your way out of here. Even if you wanted to, the possibility of stepping outside this tent and be met with the same fate as that woman was too high. Nevertheless, staying in this tent was no option either.

Blinking at the weapon in your hand, an idea struck you. Without hesitation you walked straight towards the back of the tent, followed by the mother and her daughter. With brute force, your pushed away everything that kept you from reaching the fabric of the tent. A couple of boxes, the mirror, some candles, they all landed harshly on the ground. The mother watched perplexed as her daughter escaped her grip and helped you. Your lips curved upward as you looked into her eyes. Raising your eyebrows, you lifted up the axe in the air.

“We’re making us a way out of here…”

With the axe, you sliced the fabric of the tent, ripping it apart. Careful not to end up like the death shieldmaiden inside the tent, you opened the gab slowly, searching for any possible foe.

“Everything’s clear. When I say go, run. Run and do not stop until you’re deep into the woods.”

Not waiting for an answer, you walked around the tent, straight towards the boxes you carelessly threw through the tent. There had to be something in here for them to protect themselves with. The mother narrowed her eyes at your plan, the concern for her daughter made her be on edge. But her daughter nodded determined.

You smiled as you stumbled across a knife. Nodding your head at yourself, you walked up to the mother.

Her confusion did not disappear once you presented her with the knife, but without hesitation she took it from you. “How do you know all of this?”

Not containing the sinister laugh that escaped your lips, you grinned back at the mother.

“My dad wished for a son.” You muttered out, raising your eyebrows at her.

Before you could step outside to get one final look, you heard a low chuckle behind you. Turning around, your eyes widened as they made contact with the men that had attacked the shieldmaiden only a few moments ago.

“Three little birds in a cage.”

“Now!”

In a flinch the mother and her daughter ran out of the tent. The young girl screamed and cried while she held the hand of her mother, her tearful eyes glued on you until she disappeared out of your sight.

The man grunted, irritated by their escape. However, he still had one little bird left. Slowly, as a fox sneaking up on his prey, he walked towards you. Confident in his skills. You licked your lips. Chuckling, the man took a step forward, the sword in his hand raised high above his head. Without thinking, you ducked underneath his swing, sidestepping to avoid him completely. With all the power you could muster up, you sliced the axe across his back. The man hollered, pressing his hand against the wound. As he took sight of the blood on his hand the man simply laughed at you, muttering under his breath. There was no sign that this man was one of those weak one-God lovers Ivar used to tell you about.

The man’s eyes had become very dark. And with a load roar he ran towards you, making you duck to avoid his dangerous move. The man, not expecting this, could not hold himself back and thrashed through the tent and the opening you just made, falling down on his face as he flew through the gab. Not wasting the moment, you ran after him, pushing him down with your foot and hitting him with the stump side of your axe so you could knock him out. As fierce as you may be now, a shieldmaiden was not what you were at heart.

“Heathen!”

The word made your blood run cold. A couple of men had spotted you. Running towards you at full speed, their swords raised high in the air. Turning around and deciding that your time acting as a hero was over, you tried to make a run for it, sprinting to the trees.

With each step the tree line came closer. And with that, your freedom. An escape from the terrible fate of being captured by the enemy. Behind you, tents were still burning. Christian soldiers and Viking warriors lay dead on the bloody floor. Those that had started their escape too late either trashing in the hold of those Christians or hiding in the few tents that were still untouched.

Another step. The trees were so close. Two men ran in front of you. Both carrying their wounded friend, trying their best to get him to safety. Grunting as they carried him forward, completely ignoring his pleas to leave him behind.

Another step. With a quick look behind your shoulder, you noticed that those Christian soldiers had stopped following you. Instead, there was only one remaining. Standing lonesome, next to a tent that was lightened on fire. Not slowing down, you kept running.

And then.

Pain.

A sharp cry passed your lips as the piercing, throbbing pain in your shoulder knocked you off your feet. Falling down on your stomach, you tried your best to look at your right shoulder, where an arrow had pierced your flesh. Moving felt almost impossible, the pain keeping you down on the ground. Leaving you vulnerable. An easy prey for the Christian soldier that walked up to you, grinning wickedly while playing with the bow in his hand.

---

Thank you for reading xxx

Tags: @fairyofvoid

#vikings #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless imagines #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagines #ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless fic #first request

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

Text

Emp-ire “The Stupidest Thing.”

Wrote this this morning, thought it was fun.

Hope you guys enjoy.

“Every damn time.”

“I know.”

“Every damn time.”

“I KNOW!”

…

“Is this like your kink or something.”

“Shut up Ramirez, you’re hardly one to talk.”

“Perhaps I am, but don’t you find it just a little bit weird that every other weekend you seem to get kidnapped by someone. I swear it's going to turn out you are a lot less vanilla than I thought you were and getting kidnapped is like your kink or something.”

Adam sighed deeply, “Getting kidnapped is not my kink.”

…

“I mean if it was, all you had to do was ask.”

“Ramirez.”

“I’m pretty adept at tying knots.”

“Sweet lord in heaven above save me.”

Below him the horse rocked slowly back and forth. Though he was objectively not off balance, having his hands tied to the saddlehorn certainly made him feel as if he were off balance. Below him Maroz grunted and tossed her head as if she knew something was going on. Ahead of them, the party of bandits, or outlaws or whatever the hell they were laughed and joked together tossing a bottle of whiskey back and forth.

At the head of the column rode their leader a man by the name of Vincint McBride. A man whose graces Adam had not particularly ingratiate himself into, but that tended to happen when you kick a man in the balls with the universe’s most powerful servo operated mechanical prosthetic.

Adam had not gotten off lightly for that. He had a boot shape bruise on his face, a nose that was tender, but luckily not broken, and at least one or two broken ribs. He had certainly taken a beating from this group of men and it wasn’t likely to be his last.

“I blame you.” He muttered

Ramirez looked affronted, “how is this my fault. If it were up to me we would still be back in town wooing barmen and barmaids and drinking too much. It was YOU that decided to come out here in the first place.”

“I seem to recall it was YOU who dragged me on this ‘vacation’.”

Their bickering continued for some time,the two hardly noticing as they dropped down into a small valley, and the line of horses pulled to a stop.

McBride looked around the little canyon, “We camp here for tonight!” He announced sliding down from his horse, “Someone get those two unloaded.”

Turns out, unloaded meant being dragged and turfed unceremoniously onto the dirt from four or five feet up. Ramirez hit the ground with a grunt, and Adam did the same rolling onto his side groaning and coughing bound hands pressed to his aching ribs.

McBride stared at him in amusement.

“Tie them up.”

His crew did as ordered grabbing them by the arms and legs and binding them fast.

Adam found himself pinned up against some sort of alien tree, a strange yellow grass brushing at the back of his legs

It was in that moment that he remembered the implanted tracking device in his cest, and lit up with excitement for a moment before suddenly realizing….. It only broadcast in moments of extreme distress.

And despite what was happening to them.

He actually hadn’t been in nearly enough distress.

He tried to conjure some up, but it was no use.

He didn’t feel anything.

McBride leaned forward puffing a swirling ring of smoke into his face from the cigarette dangling from his mouth, “You’ll be worth a pretty penny. Who knows, maybe we can get something for the marine too.”

Behind him his men chuckled.

Adam lifted his head, “Those will kill you, you know.”

McBride took the cigarette from his mouth and contemplated Adam, “Better to live fast and die young rather than die old never having lived at all eh.”

“Not when that dying young comes from lung cancer.”

McBride pursed his lips, reaching up and knocking Adam’s hat back off his head. Adam had to turn his head away from the sun that shone down on them through the bright blue atmosphere. He watched in apprehension as the man pulled a large, wicked looking knife from a sheath at his belt and tapped it against the side of Adam’s face.

“How much did you pay for that eye boy, two thousand, four thousandmaybe. It looks like Tesraki work after all, and I know they run a hard bargain.”

Inside his head, Adam watched as the targeting radicals of his mechanical eye fell over the man’s face.

“Its a pice of junk.” he lied

The man laughed, “Admiral Vir, you are a very poor liar.” He leaned in close so that Adam could smell his hot, rancid breath.

“I think, before we sell you back to your master, dog, I might just sell the rest of you for scrap parts.” He tapped the barrel of his gun against Adam’s prosthetic making a hollow metal clattering noise as he did.”

Adam felt his insides tighten up, no, not the leg, the eye he could get a new one but…. But that leg!

He wasn’t entirely sure it was even something someone else could take off him. The Steel eye wasn’t exactly keen on parting from him on most occasions, and he doubted it would take kindly to being removed by these thugs.

The thought made his entire body ache with pain that hadn’t even come yet.

McBride turned his head to look over at Ramirez, who was tied to the next closest tree, “And how about your friend over here, does he have any spare parts I should know about.”

Ramirez lifted his head in some measure of defiance.

“I have a couple spare parts I think you might be interested in….”

The sinister smile with which Ramirez gave the group of men made it pretty clear that while he was making a euphemism, his true meaning was going to be far more sinister.

McBride snorted, “Not likely. I’m not interested in ‘your’ spare parts.”

Ramirez tilted his head, “Really because it looks to me like you could use a spare pair of balls.”

The men in the circle snarled, and McBride raised hand.

“Don’t test me, marine, or I might just have to borrow yours.” He flipped the knife between his fingers and Ramirez went silent, though he kept a defiant eye trained on McBride.

The man looked at him with his head tilted to the side, peering out from under the brim of his black and red hat. The collar of his white shirt flickered somewhat in the wind that rolled down through the valley.

“While I appreciate your little banter, boys. It's time I get to collecting on my ransum,”

He turned to look at his group raising his voice to shout, “Get settled in. We camp here tonight and then meet with our fence tomorrow morning. He might be able to help us sell this one off before the train, now. Get to WORK!”

Adam turned his head to glance over at Ramirez as the group of men and women broke into a sort of frenzy, setting up camp. On occasion, a few of them would come by just to throw a jibe at Adam or Ramirez waving guns or knives in their faces and threatening horrible horrible things upon them. Adam didn’t let them know that the threats were sort of getting to him. Granted this wasn't his first time around the block when it came to getting kidnapped.

This was, however, one of his first times getting kidnapped by another human.

And if there was anything he knew after years working with aliens.

It was that humans were far scarier than any alien.

The sky turned purple as the sun began to set, and as he sat there by the tree and watched the light fade and the shadows grow long, he couldn’t help but wonder what Sunny was doing. He doubted she had been stupid eough to get herself kidnapped. If it was her in this situation, they probably wouldn't have been kidnapped at all.

He glanced over at McBride strutting around his camp like a Rooster struts around a clutch of hens, that long decorative knife glittering at his belt.

No matter how he came out of this.

McBride wouldn;t be leaving with that knife.

He was going to make sure of it.

***

He was half asleep running footsteps jolted him back to consciousness.

Adam lifted his head in confusion and looked around to see one of McBride’s men skidding down from a nearby hill holding a rifle in one hand as his arms failed wildly to keep his ballance, “Vincent! VINCENT!”

One of the bedrolls on the ground jerked, and the outlaw sat up in bleary confusion, the fire flickering over his half dazed face, “What now!”

“It's the Sheriff! It's the sheriff and his boys. Followedus somehow, and heading right this way. WE HAVE TO GO!”

That got the entire camp on its feet very quickly scrambling for whatever they could grab.

“NO TIME.” the man howled, “They're almost here!” “Grab the prisoners, and LET'S MOVE.” McBride ordered.

Adam exchanged glances with Ramirez who gave him a wicked little smile.

Adam nodded.

Two men ran forward to untie them, and in their haste became rather sloppy.

Adam watched hungrily as the man dropped to untie his legs from the tree. Adam shifted his pelvis to the side somewhat, and as the last rope came undone, he lashed out with a kick to the chest with devastating consequences. The steel eye prosthetic roared to life and set the man flying back a good two feet before he slammed into the ground gasping, eyes wide and bulging ribs cracked.

Adam fell to the side and rolled, and thorough the ground he could feel the thundering of hooves.

Off to his side Ramirez, without the gift of a powerful prosthetic, did something else.

With the grace and flexibility of a career olympic ice skater, he kicked one of his legs up smashing his foot straight into the chin of the other man, with all the flexibility and grace you wouldn’t expect from someone wearing jeans and cowboy boots.

The effect was much the same as wat Adam had achieved, and he managed to roll to the side and skid down into a low rocky depression.

That is when the gunfire started and they could hear the sound of McBride ad his men shouting to each other.

Ramirez hand managed to get his tied hands out from behind his back and used them to untie Adam’s feet and hands. Adam pulled Ramirz’s hands free and then turned to run back up the hill skidding between rocks and boulders as he bolted towards McBride’s voice. That little bastard was going to pay.

He came up behind one of McBride’s men slamming into him with his shoulder and knocking him to the ground. He grabbed the man’s pistol from his hand and, in a moment of uncharacteristic viciousness, pistol whipped the man across the temple causing him to fall to the ground silent and unconscious.

He could see muzzle flash from up the canyon walls, and kept in cover just in case as he chased after McBride. He could hear the horses going absolutely ballistic just across from him and peeked out from around the side of the boulder only to have to throw himself back as a bullet chunked the rock into shards beside his head, He cursed violently and crawled to the other side of the rock.

He peered out from behind and shook his head, No wonder these assholes couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn since those of them using handguns insisted on firing with only one hand. Adam wasn’t exactly the sharpshooter of the year, but he had been trained in the force long enough to know you were far more accurate using both hands.

At least that’s what he thought until a moment later when one of his bullets managed to impact the side of another man’s gun, shooting it from his hand. The man looked up at him in wide eyed consternation and awe. Adam just frowned.

He had been aiming for the head, but he guessed that wa going to have to do. Behind him he could hear Ramirez’s whoop of triumph as he managed to get his hands on a gun, and together the two of them joined forces with the sheriff.

“There he goes!”

Ramirez shouted, and Adam followed his pointed finger to McBride who had managed to acquire a horse and was now riding up the canyon. Adam broke into a dead sprint after him. The horses were in disarray, but he managed to find Maroz rearing and screeching at the back of the group.

He reached up his hands to calm the horse, and to his surprise, the beast pulled back, lowering herself to the ground and shaking her head.

He grabbed her reins and hauled himself into the saddle, “Come on, Lets go!” He snapped the reins and squeezed her sides forcing her into a dead gallup after the retreating McBride.His body rocked in the saddle, but he kept his ips loose and his head low and forward as wind whipped past him.

McBride Turned in his saddle and shot off a few rounds, though riding a horse one handed was hardly the best way to take a shot and the bullets sparked off the canyon wall. Adam pulled out his own weapon, and making a sudden decision, he released the reins, drew himself up an fired with both hands.

He nearly fell off his horse, but the effect was a desired one as, for the second time that day, he sent a gun spinning from the hand of his enemy. That too was also accidental, but if he ever told this story he was definitely going to say that it was totally on purpose.

The two of them skidded around the next corner and Maroz was gaining, clearly a far superior horse to the tatty bay that the man had chosen.

Adam didn’t have any rope, and even if he did, he had no idea how to use a lasso. Apparently he had missed that lesson on being a cowboy, and found there to really be only one other option afforded to him.

He drew up alongside the other man’s horse and slipped his feet from the stirrups, bringing himself to a low crouch on the saddle.

He could feel his feet slipping and knew he had to act now, so he launched himself to the side.

Maroz whinnied loudly but kept her feet.

The same could not be said for either Adam or McBride as Adam tackled the other man from the saddle and the two of them went careening towards the ground. It was about halfway down that Adam realised this might not have been such a good idea since this was about the equivalent of pitching oneself out of a car at about 25 miles an hour.

Needless to say they hit the ground hard.

The kind of hard that knocks you into another dimension for a moment. Luckily for him he landed on top of McBride before bouncing off and tumbling into the rocks. It hurt like a sonofabitch but, finally he was able to stagger to his feet. Somewhere in there, he had gone and lost his handgun, leaving both him and Mcbride unarmed as they crawled to their feet winded and limping.

What followed was probably the most uncoordinated fistfight to have ever existed on the history of the planet as the two of them fell over, slipped, wobbled and cursed at teach other.

Hoofbeats were nearing them from behind, and more shouting voices. He thought it was the sheriff, and that is probably what got him into so much trouble…. As the horse barled into him, and he was knocked unconscious for a second time that week.

He woke up next to a fire groaning thinking for a moment that he had been recaptured before a familiar face turned to look on him from above, a familiar mustachioed face and a glittering golden badge.

“Sheriff?”

“That was the right stupidest thing I have ever seen, boy.” The man announced in his drawing country accent.”

Adam sat up with a groan hand on his head,

“The stupidest thing I have ever seen, but probably…. The bravest thing too.” He held out a hand, something glittering in his palm, “here, take this, you earned it.”

He looked up in confusion reaching out to take the shining handgun from the other man’s hand.

“It's McBride’s.”

Looking down he could see the scuff that his own bullet had left on the side of McBride’s gun.

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