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just-some-random-blogger · 10 months ago

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Tin Soldier

Gwayne returns from Rook's Rest to King's Landing where his wife has been patiently waiting for him, knowing he would need stress relief.

Gwayne Hightower x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, pwp idk what to tell you, ok nvm porn with feelings, gwaynes BRATTY, smut (piv, bdsm, pet play??, biting, marking, scratching), fluff can you believe that, typos, etc.

A/N: inspired by this post. i wish @barbieaemond and @targs-on-zorses a very much i hope you suffer

"Oh, praise the gods," I mutter under my breath once I spot the two knights entering through gates of the Keep. I dismiss my handmaiden and head towards them.

Gwayne and Criston spot me, the former's hardened face softens. I offer them a smile and clasp my hands, "very good. The Mother has delivered you whole." I nod in regard, "ser Criston."

The said man nods, "my-"

"You would greet another man before your husband, woman?"

I turn to Gwayne. His jaw clenches. I hold back a grin and pucker my lower lip instead, "I only wished to thank the Hand for returning my love to me with no missing limbs."

He scoffs. His horse trots in place. Gwayne does not enjoy that. He very much did not enjoy that.

"I should thank your husband for doing the same for me, my lady," Criston replies, making me turn back to him.

I smile. Gwayne dismounts. "Then I rejoice in knowing you both will return safely so long as you have each other."

A stable boy comes to get my husband's ride. He spares me no glance when he walks passed me. I turn to my feet with a chuckle, rubbing my belly that bubbled in excitement, "welcome home, ser." We share a nod before I chase after my lord.

He is walking incredibly fast.

I gather my skirts, "my lord!"

Gwayne does not stop. He only continues to storm to our shared chambers. When he reaches the stairs, I break into a sprint, laughing as I did, "lord husband!"

Needless to say, my calls fall deaf on his ears. I have to catch my breath once I enter the room.

"RETURN ME?!"

I close the door behind me, eyes not leaving my armored lover as he paces around the room. My breath hitches at the sight of him. Oh, how I missed the clanking of his steel uniform.

Gwayne turns back to me, pointing a harsh finger to the ground, "WOULD THAT I BE THE ONE RETURNED-

My eyes sparkle at his vexed expression.

"OH! IF YOU ONLY KNEW HOW COLE WAS-"

I reach for his breastplate, "twas a jest."

"Well, you jest wrongly," he glares, swatting my hands away. I press my lips together to suppress my smile. He charges towards the vanity, "you now not how insufferable that Dornishman is."

He begins to undo the cuffs on his forearm. Oh, by the Seven, he was actually upset. He never removed his own armor, not when I was present. I sigh, "Gwayne-"

"Do not-" he pulls roughly on his sleeve "-address me, woman."

I purse my lips and grab his shoulder plate. He shrugs me off dramatically and I reel back in momentary shock, only to huff and grab him by his steely collar.

He glares at me.

I raise my brows, mouth opening to start a new argument. But his face, marked with hurt, though dramatic, makes my heart tinge. I decide not to pursue it.

He recognizes this and lifts his nose. His brows quirk in challenge.

I tilt my head and sigh, "begging your pardon, my lord," I brush my hands down to the sigil on his heart, "tis distasteful to speak on matters I know not of."

Gwayne stares at me for a moment. I peer at him through my lashes, absentmindedly drawing shapes on his chest, "I submit. I wish not to quarrel."

He does not reply, but he visibly relaxes, save for the way his brows knit, "my lips."

My eyes fall to his mouth where a cut laid on the bottom corner, "yes. You've been cut." I pull away to grab some ointment for it, "we shall treat your lip again after your bath."

He watches as I go through the vials on the table. Just as I open the lid of the salve, I feel his rigid body press against my back. I look over my shoulder, gazing up at his face as he embraces me.

"You have not kissed them," he mutters, "you insult me twice, wife."

Oh, what darling. I pretend to think, "I thought I was woman."

"Wrong again," he takes the vial from me, setting it down with little attention. He turns me around and traps me against the vanity, "my woman."

He wastes no more time keeping our lips separate. Gwayne picks me by the waist and sits me on the table as his lips reacquaint themselves with mine. My body melts against him, my legs part to welcome him between and my hands sneak their way into his nape.

He pulls away, "damn this helmet."

I giggle but stop him when he tries to rid himself of it. He raises a brow then sighs, "not again."

"What?" I laugh innocently, "it suits you well."

He shakes his head but makes no further move to rid himself of his steel hat. He does however begin to bunch my skirts up. I mumble, "my tin soldier."

He groans. "Perhaps I'll fuck you in my helmet, vixen," he wraps my legs around him, "see how you like it."

I gleefully retort, "so long as you fuck me, ser-" he begins to kiss my neck, "I will be- OH!"

Gwayne sharply pulls away, face concerned.

I cover my mouth with my hands, "I'd nearly forgotten!"

He can do nothing but watch as I wrangle out of our position and shoo him away. He grumbles as I go through a drawer, "I got you a gift."

"Must you give it to me now?"

I laugh and turn back to him once I have it in my hand, "I find you will regret it if I do not give it to you sooner."

His brow quirks in interest.

I grin and motion with my head, "to the bed with you."

Gwayne is sat on the side of the bed in an instant. He eagerly looks at me. I saunter over with a look of mischief. His eyes widen when I kneel by his feet. At this point, he knew exactly what my surprise was and he simply reaches a hand out to me.

I place a bell in his palm. Gwayne releases a deep breath that breaks into an excited chuckle, "oh, my girl, you might regret this."

I simply look at him with a smile.

He stares at me, knowing then that our game had started. His lips part infinitesimally as he basks in the power he now had. He rings the bell, "you may speak your mind, pet."

"Thank you, ser."

Gwayne rings it again, "get me out of this fucking armor."

"Yes, ser," I say, coming to my feet to undo his top. I feel his eyes on me as I do so.

He releases a breath, hands coming to my side, "I have free rein on your body, do I not?"

"Of course, ser."

"Mmm," he rubs my ass then smacks it, "strip for me," he rings the bell.

I turn to him, "after I-"

"Now," he blurts.

I pull away from him and begin to undo the ties of my dress. It is a slight struggle but not impossible. Once my dress drops to the floor and I'm left in my shift, he rings his bell, "stop."

I still where I stand.

"And your smallclothes," he rings.

I oblige, pulling them and letting them drop to the floor. He reaches a hand out, ringing again, "come to me."

I take his hand and he spreads his legs. I sit on his lap and he rings, "you may proceed, pet."

I continue to undo his armor, "of course, ser."

Ring. "Kiss me as you do so."

I do not speak, only follow the command. I kiss him intermittently as I finally remove a shoulder plate. It is considerably harder to do than undoing my dress because of all the latches. I decide to prioritize undressing him, but it seems that was a mistake.

He snakes his hand up my skirt and squeezes my inner thigh, "my lips are wanting yours, pet."

"I am doing my best, se-"

"Well, try harder."

Gwayne thoroughly enjoys my struggle and unabashedly complains when I am not kissing him. I begin to grow increasingly frustrated when I prioritize kissing him yet finds it in him to complain about how hot his armor is. At some point, I begin throwing the metal I do get off him angrily to the ground.

His chuckle is deep, "careful, pet. That is your lord's armor."

"Fuck your armor," I grunt, chucking his cuffs to the floor.

He laughs and licks his lips.

"I was given permission to speak my mind, was I not? I mutter, sliding off his lap to undo the cuffs on his legs.

"I did not give you leave to leave my lap," he stares at me.

I glare at him and sit back down. He examines me for a moment, rings his bell, and chirps, "get off."

I sigh and stand.

"Uh-ta-ta-ta-ta," he grabs my arm and raises a finger. He looks up at me, shrugging, "what do we say?"

I suck in a breath and force a smile, "of course, ser. Thank you, ser."

"Good," he raises the bell before ringing it, "proceed."

I drop to my knees and continue to rid him of his wretched armor. He brushes my hair back and rubs my lips, "indeed again, you you are not kissing me."

I huff, looking up at him. His eyes sparkle as I say, "a thousand apologies, ser." I attempt to do the impossible, kissing him while undoing the cuffs on his shins. Amazingly, I eventually complete the task and do so with another huff.

Gwayne rings his bell and knocks on his helmet, "you missed one, pet."

I sit on his lap and place my hands on his shoulders. He watches me as I frown. I look at him pleadingly but he allows me no satisfaction. I have no choice but to take his helmet off. He snakes an arm around me, "hard, that one, was it?"

I place his helmet on the night stand and kiss him, "I wish to please my lord."

He smirks, "then shall you be rewarded." He carelessly chucks the bell behind him, causing me gasp, "Gwayne!"

"I enjoyed our little game but find I no longer have the patience for it," he grabs my thighs and turns me on him.

"That's why we keep losing the bell, you keep throwing it!"

"Fuck the bell," he quips, making me straddle him, "I want to fuck my wife."

The next thing I know, my dress is being ripped off and he's hastily undoing his breeches. I cannot help my laugh as I shift atop him to free himself, and once he is, I grind on his hardened cock, making him grit his teeth. I bask in the feel of him after removing his shirt. By the gods, how I've missed the feel of his chest on my palms.

He allows me to dote on his scars and freckles. I could weep at his beauty. He then sinks his head into the crook of my neck and I wrap my arms around him.

"My wife," he licks a stripe to my jaw, "I dream about your skin."

I brush my fingers up his hair and tug gently, "Gwyane."

"I miss your taste," he mutters in between kisses. He tightens his hold on me, "I miss your taste, miss your skin, miss your lips, my love," he rakes his fingers up my back, "did you miss me?"

I moan as I sink myself down on him. He squeezes my shoulders and drops his jaw.

I grab his cheeks and press our foreheads together, "missed you so much— missed your touch, missed having you inside me, missed your smart mouth."

He chuckles and kisses me, "missed yours." Gwayne begins to buck into me, arms tight around my waist.

I grunt and bring his face into my chest, throwing my head back as I ride him. He sucks on my skin, intent to leave evidence of him on me. I tangle my fingers into his hair then pepper kisses on his forehead. He smelled of sweat and dirt and ash; I relish every bit of him.

I whimper when he sinks his teeth into the side of my throat before suckling. I clench around him in response. I pull his hair and speak his name. He replies with a moan, grazing me with his teeth once more.

My riding becomes harder. The sound of our breath and the utterance of each other's names mingle with the creak of the bed and the wet sound of slapping skin. He grabs my hips, flesh spilling between his fingers, and bites his nails into me. He huffs, guiding me into faster and rougher pace.

I lean my forehead on his once more, darting my tongue to his lips. He chases my tongue, catching it between his teeth, then does the same to my lips. I whimper when I taste blood. He licks the iron off and trails kisses to my ear, "come on my cock, baby, want you to come with me."

I whimper out and nod, "Gwayne."

"Come on," he mutters, "come, my love."

Pressure builds inside me, and we soon both grow erratic. There is a thick silence before guttural cries reverberate through the room. My body comes alive. The thick, hot, pleasure is so intense my breath is knocked out of my lungs and I quickly feel myself seize up.

My husband, ever dutiful, sinks his nails into my thighs and fucks out every last bit of the melting sensation from the both of us. A hoarse noise rips from my throat and makes my toes curl into my soles. Gwayne even overcompensates and plows into me until I'm reeling. I knew it was too much for him too, and so I supply him with the shaky whimpers I knew he desperately craves.

I feel lightheaded by the time he stops. He rests his head on me before finally collapsing on his back, taking me down with him. His chest rises and falls rapidly, our skin now sticky with sweat.

His hands rest on my thighs. I bring mine to both his shoulders. I pant against his jaw, "that was intense."

He hums, "well," he huffs, "you missed me too much."

"No," I nuzzle into his neck and draw shapes on his skin, "you missed me too much."

He brushes his nose against my head, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I didn't miss you at all."

"Good. I didn't miss you either."

He rubs my skin, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Out of nowhere, he whines in a high pitched voice, "OH Gwayne- OH! You feel so gOOD- AH AH-"

I swat him and with a dropped jaw. I lift my head and glare at him, "I did NOT say that!"

Gwayne's eyes fall on me, lips pursing. He brings one arm behind his head and takes the other to my cheek. My belly flutters at the sight of him. He was beautiful like this, shining after our love making. His rough thumb rubs my face, "pity." He brushes my hair back, "I'm going to have to fix that."

I roll my eyes at him but I am unable to fight back my smile.

He smiles back. His eyes soften and his voice is careful, "... did you miss me, my love?"

"Gods," I nearly roll my eyes at the back of my head, "oh, my sweet boy. My sweet pathetic boy who I so terribly missed."

He grins. The lines by on his cheeks only deepen when he laughs.

My stomach rolls again. I speak in earnest, capturing his cheek, "every day, I thank the Seven that I bask in your beauty."

Gwayne's eyes rove over me. He rubs my arm, "we should have another babe."

I scoff, "Gwayne-"

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marsprincess889 · 6 months ago

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Yoni animal observations

I did something similar with nakshatras. This is them in a very simple way. This is based on traditional associations as well as my own observations of real life and art. 💕 The word "yoni", as well as meaning the female reproductive organ, also means "origin". Yoni animal represents the instinct of the nakshatra and ultimately, reveals its true core nature.

Also, disclaimer: it's very sad that I have to say this, and apologies if you're not one of those people, but if you're going to correct anything in this post by writing one or more long paragraphs of why you think I'm wrong, you might as well just start your own blog or make your own post about the subject. I've been observing yoni animals for years and I'm kind of sorry if any of this offends you, but I'm not trying to attack anyone personally, or even a specific placement (nakshatras in this case), cause that's just dumb. Of course, everyone is free to express their opinions but please do it politely and have some respect for the person who took their time to gain and share knowledge. It's very easy to correct others, it's very hard to be faultless yourself. So, factual corrections are always welcome(say someone got someone's chart placement wrong, or they have written a factually incorrect association, like if they were to write that Jyeshta is fierce as opposed to sharp/cruel in nature.), but, once again, everyone's view is different and so either respect mine or don't write anything at all.

With that being said, you can now enjoy this post💕

Horse yonis

Ashwini and Shatabhisha

Keywords: activity, simplicity, masculinity(solar/yang), independence, healing.

Straightforward people. They might tend to have black and white thinking, can be very blunt with their delivery and definitely prone to "deafness": not hearing others' views. Simple and utilitarian, goal-oriented. Their presence might not be really noticed until the moment they suddenly speak up about or act on something. Love to point stuff out. Either quiet or very precise while speaking. Not aggressive but can be combative. Most likely will oppose someone before making peace. Independence>sharing. Don't like anything "unnecessary", love to get to the point.

Elephant yonis

Bharani and Revati

Keywords: slow, authority, time, timelessness, strength, transitions, protection, completion, gentleness, complexity, depth.

Not revealing their innermost selves, only revealing it to a select group of people, if to anyone. They attach meaning to things based on their experiences. Protective and gentle with each other, closed off to most of the others. Very private. Not really concerned with trends. Observant but not quick to act. Can have many sides to them that some others might fail to understand. Have an air of wisdom, but not that of arrogance. Still, they are the most likely to knowingly take the high road but still protect their peace, making them very exclusive, although it's never for show. Defensive but quietly so. Accomodating to some degree on the outside, there's always more to them than what's obvious. See the bigger picture in every situation. They have a certain quiet strength and power. Nurture is important to them. Do not appreciate unnecessary aggression and try to dominate over anything they consider harsh/crude.

Sheep yonis

Krittika and Pushya

Keywords: precision, structure, minimalism, choosiness, contained.

Do not like excess in anything. They have a sense of balance, usually in almost everything. Prioritize sctructure and basics/essentials. Like clarity and clear-cut lines in their lives and around them. Can be snappy, but in a passive-aggressive way. Not harsh in a heavy/overwhelming way but still harsh about details. Have a soft demeanor with strangers and acquaintances, sometimes even people close to them in everyday life but can judge them quietly. Neutral to friendly on the outside, but if they have uncomfortable emotions they try hard to release them quietly/without much fuss. Might bottle up resentment in result. Very utilitarian and practical.

Snake yonis

Rohini and Mrigashira

Keywords: enjoyment, ease, materialism, basic awareness, growth, progress, sensory indulgence, instincts.

Very placid and calm. They focus mainly on material things but can live without luxuries, and can also share them, although privacy is very important to them. Very aware of their surroundings and their own presence. Attuned to their senses. Can get easily attached to people and things. Can exhibit selfish tendencies(or that's how it looks to others) when they feel like their desires are ignored, but Rohini and Mrigashira each do it differently.

Dog yonis

Ardra and Mula

Keywords: upheaval, critical point, rebelling, release, change, anchoring.

Tense but not frail. Might look tortured sometimes. Do not like to and probably even cannot focus on details, at least not how it's traditionally done(different to each situation). Like to display their individuality in one way or another. Dark humor or sassy comebacks. Either quiet or very loud, but either way, opinionated. If they're neutral then they're opinionated about being neutral. Can be kind of nihilistic but at peace with it. Contrarian and unapologetic. If they don't care about something you can't make them care. If they do care, they care intensely.

Cat yonis

Punarvasu and Ashlesha

Keywords: accumulation, buildup, purity, safety, protection, preservation, cycles.

Concerned with what influences them, not so much what they put out. Self-focused but also highly aware of others' needs. Can adapt to surroundings and can change their behavior based on what they need or really want. Not unkind but laser-focused on the boundaries. Always keep their cards close to their chest, not out of malice but simply to preserve their safety. Look more unnaproachable than they really are, and know more than they share with most.

Rat yonis

Magha and Purva Phalguni

Keywords: dispersion, creativity, planting seeds, the self.

Can be egocentric. Prideful and nonchalant. Love to show off. Might be aware of surroundings to some degree but even if they are, they rarely care. Getting what they want is the priority, along with self-expression. Not very moralistic, don't care much about labels. Sometimes they can be too detached. Will almost never catch them crying in front of others, although they can be dramatic if they want and can, without a problem, attract their dwsired attention. Their happiness is more warm and generous than loud and euphoric. Might have a poker face, they rarely show strong emotions. The strongest emotion I've seen them express is that of defensiveness, and that's not even an emotion. When they get defensive it's almost always because something has touched their pride or triggered their ego. Focused on what they can do.

Cow yonis

Uttara Phalguni and Uttara Bhadrapada

Keywords: stability, the long-term results, natural, softness, power/influence, unity, calm.

Stubborn. That's the only defense they have, because otherwise they're very soft. Naturally honest. They have an effortlessness about them that feels easy to be around, and they are pleasant to be around but not accepting of everyone. They avoid people they don't like from early on and stick to the ones they consider better. Not hesitant to defend themselves or people close to them, but not quick to waste that energy on just anyone, and when they do become defensive they still maintain "the high ground". Backing their allies and fighting proudly is natural for them. Again, very stubborn, so they rarely, if ever, give up on something important. Although they're tough, they're not sharp or cruel. They are mostly in a state calmness and assuredness rather than anxious defensiveness. Very fixed and comfortable in their ways.

Buffalo yonis

Hasta and Swati

Keywords: materialism, gain, comfort, strength, feminine(yin), ease.

More attached to material things than other yonis. Individuality is defined through connections and surroundings. Love comfort and ease. Interdependence>independence. Can be curiously neutral and accomodating. Self-focused but not selfish. Often phlegmatic and slow. Genuinely caring but can be cunning. Not the most direct people. They will let others know their views but won't push them aggressively on others. Almost everything about them is filtered through that neutrality.

Tiger yonis

Chitra and Vishakha

Keywords: building, gradual, defensive, expression, buildup.

The most defensive. Can look sweet on the outside but are not all soft. Can range from extremely forgiving to extremely vengeful. Aggression comes out while speaking. Rarely, if ever, present in a state of calm melancholy. They moreso go from happy/fun to agitated. Focused on development/building, and always look for more than what's natural for them. Witty but emotionally so. If they're highly agitated, it's very hard for them to exercise restraint in the moment. Not that direct in general but unfiltered during critical moments. It's easy for them to put on a mask, whether out of neccessity or just for fun. Can be very judgemental. If they're not aware, it can make them act in a "mean" way when they feel not their best.

Rabbit/Deer yonis

Anuradha and Jyeshta

Keywords: society, organization, status quo, responsibility, transpersonal, maturing.

Very non-aggressive on the inside, despite how they might look. Naturally have endurance and a sense of responsibility. Can be judgemental but also understanding. Love to give advice. Competitive but respectful. Can become arrogant. Love everything "classic" but want to establish their own, new structures. Choosy and sometimes exclusive. More warm than they appear, and capable of more emotions than how it seems. Often traditionally intelligent. Have a very civilized behavior.

Vanar yonis

Purva Ashadha and Shravana

Keywords: flow, alliances, connections, support, creation and preservation.

Good at reading between the lines, anything too structured is harsh for them. Otherworldly aura/mannerisms. Most likely to posses what others might consider as "quirks". Value their own individuality and uniqueness. Seeks to be different from what they consider boring, normal or basic. Not very reactive. When they get defensive, they get quiet. Can romatisize sadness and melancholy. Capable of seeing both sides but are often willingly biased.

Mongoose yoni

Uttara Ashadha

Keywords: independence, solitude, practicality, victory.

Truly neutral and unbothered. Value honesty and integrity. Not attached to material things at all. Easy to be around but their regal nature might put some people ill at ease. Naturally take on leadership positions. Might feel lonely but won't trade solitude for tiring/uninteresting company. Value practicality and simplicity, and are practical themselves. Surprsingly warm and feeling in certain moments, but can also be uncaring towards others.

Lion yonis

Dhanishta and Purva Bhadrapada

Keywords: notoriety, flashiness, power, aggression, pride.

Very unfiltered and loudly so. Unashamed and bold, proud. That pride and confidence fuels their calmness, but they can lack patience. In everyday interactions they can look very unreactive but if something "triggers" them, they will not hesitate to be a little(or not so little) aggressive. Love to spread their influence. Might strongly dislike anything that looks subtle and quiet to them, as it arises distrust in them. Rarely, if ever, use/appreciate sarcasm. They prefer directness. Can slip into being a bully, or can become a proud voice for others.

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i-love-ptv · 5 months ago

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Teach Me ─★•♛•★─

Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Girlfriend!Reader

Surfing’s all you’ve known since you were young, so of course you’re going to spread the love with your darling boyfriend. It’s a harmless, family friendly activity, what could possibly happen?

Wc: 2,506

SMUTTT!! —Exhibitionism? (They fuck on a beach but nobody else is there) P in V, unprotected sex, no pulling out (SORRYYY) Porn w/ plot

An: GUYSSSS I was on my mf GRIND to get this out for yall!!!! I’m so excited I love it, I’m planning to (hopefully) post a few more fics w Rafe n pogue reader (baby’s name is Buttercup!!)

Feedback is always welcomed and encouraged! xx

“I can’t believe you got me out here, babe.” Rafe groans playfully; his chest rises as he laughs.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” You drag out, your hand resting on his bicep as you walk backwards while facing him.

Your flip-flops slap against your feet in the sand, your hand reaches up, pulling the strap of the heavy beach bag up onto your shoulder again. Rafe’s holding two surfboards; freshly waxed, and one a tad bigger than the other.

It’s rather early— well, not sunrise, but not afternoon. You figured it’d be best to go to the beach around this time, the waves wouldn’t be as high on this breezy morning, so you can finally teach Rafe how to surf.

Your love for surfing emerged when you moved to Kildare; you had met a boy back in elementary school. He was always sporting a backwards cap, his golden hair always peaking out at you.

Turns out, his name was Jackson, JJ for short, and he befriended you almost immediately. Once you both found out that the two of you lived close by, every day was spent together, alongside his best friend John B.

They both taught you how to surf, it took a few months to get the hook of it but that’s besides the point.

…It also doesn’t help that your “teachers” were third (soon to be fourth) graders. How did they even know how to surf? Who knows.

You’ve been surfing longer than you haven't, which is why you vowed to get your boyfriend of two years to join you just one time.

You abruptly stop, making Rafe’s hard chest bump into your back.

“Jesus, babe-“

“Stop! This is the perfect spot.” You stare off into the glistening water, ignoring the look of disbelief on Rafe’s face. He mumbles a few words under his breath half-heartedly, but you don’t seem to care.

You begin to sit everything down, laying the hot pink beach blanket down on the sand. Rafe’s standing there rather awkwardly, waiting for your eventual command.

You turn around, sunblock in hand, “…Y’know you can sit those down, right?” You look him up and down with a questioning look on your face, your tone making his cheeks flush.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Rafe says with a cough. “I was just uh—pumping these babies, y’know? Maintaining my physique since someone won’t let me go to the gym today.” You roll your eyes at the sight of Rafe (poorly) using the surfboards as if they were dumbbells to do bicep curls.

“Uh-huh. Put those down so I can put your sunblock on.” You look at Rafe expectantly, hand on your hip and all. If it weren’t for your ridiculous remark, Rafe would’ve smirked at your attitude.

“I don’t need sunblock, Buttercup,” Rafe says with a scoff.

Your stance doesn’t change, and your expression doesn’t falter in the slightest. Rafe knows you won’t budge, and you’ll most likely (you will) stand here all day until he gets off his high-horse. So he sighs, and reluctantly steps forward into your arms, making you grin.

You put the sunblock on your hands, rubbing them together before leaving a small smack to Rafe’s face. “Quit it,” Rafe hisses due to the coldness, grabbing your wrists before they could continue to rub his face.

You giggle madly, “Hurry up, let me put this on!” Rafe’s pushing your hands away from his face, while you’re pushing them towards him.

You go back and forth for a little bit with smitten smiles sticking, before Rafe finally allows you to continue.

After maybe fifteen minutes, you both are fully covered, and you swear you can already feel the sun’s rays reflecting off of you.

“Alright, c’mon you big lug,” you tease, pulling him towards the water.

“You’ve been practicing how to pop-up like I showed you, right? Cause it’s even harder to do it on water compared to doing it on land.” You question, looking up at him.

“Yes, mom, I did the homework you assigned me.” Rafe rolls his eyes; he may just be the sassiest guy you know.

You side-eye him, not really believing his remarks. “Oh yeah? Lemme see, right here.”

“Actually, can you give me a demonstration? Y’know, in the water..” Rafe trails off.

“Thought you had it down. sweetheart?” You purse your lips at him. “Yeah, obviously I do. I just need to see it all together. I’m a visual learner, Buttercup.” Rafe flirts, but it completely goes over your head, you’re entirely too excited to surf to even realize.

“Okay, just pay attention real closely, Ray.” You grin at the light brown-haired boy. If Rafe didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought it was Christmas day with the way your eyes were lit up. It almost made Rafe feel bad for the sinful thoughts plaguing his mind.

Almost.

You turn towards the water, walking away from your boyfriend, and his bright eyes roam across your body.

The way that your swimsuit hugged your body nearly made him drool. He swore he nearly cried when you said you’d be wearing a one-piece because it’s easier to surf in, but god is he glad to see it. Your ass peaks out more and more as you walk, and if Rafe doesn’t cool it with the day-dreaming, he’ll be sporting a boner. And that’ll ruin his plan entirely if you saw it.

What is Rafe’s plan, you ask? It’s quite simple really. You see, Rafe honestly didn’t give a shit about surfing. It wasn’t his thing, golf and basketball were. But he couldn’t deny you: his sweet angel, trying to indulge in your favorite activity since you were a child.

Rafe knew that you’ll just be the one surfing all day, while he merely observed. Some may call it perverted, and maybe he is a bit, but Rafe can’t help but want to watch you: wearing little clothing, and soaking wet.

Rafe sees you up on your surfboard, and you look nothing short of ethereal. The sun glistened off your body perfectly, your hair that was once up, now starts to limp down, but Rafe doesn’t mind—not at all, he can’t when you’re on top of that board as gracefully as you are.

The waves flow around you effortlessly, the ripples make your form sway, but you don’t falter even for a second; you never do under any circumstance, and Rafe thinks that’s his favorite thing about you.

You cheer and put your hands up wildly as you ride the white water to the shore. “Did you see me babe? That shit was sick right?!” You exclaim while running towards him, your board long-gone in the damp sand.

Rafe stands up immediately, allowing you to jump into his muscular arms. “Of course I did, baby! You’re amazing.” Rafe speaks softly, he then presses a kiss to your forehead, squeezing you closer to his broad, firm chest.

Before you can get another word in, Rafe’s kissing you deeply; his arms hold you tightly, not allowing your feet to touch the ground.

You place your hands on his face, guiding his lips astray from yours, and he tries to chase them, but he’s unsuccessful. “It’s your turn, Ray.” You whisper, peering at him with your widely-blown eyes.

“Later, angel.” He murmurs, leaning back into you.

His fingers dance across your skin, and you can feel the hunger behind the kiss; you meet him with just as much fever.

You knew of Rafe’s game as soon as you stepped into the car this morning, he was far too enthusiastic about the idea compared to his moans and complaints the night prior when you brought it up.

You weren’t that oblivious to the sneaky glances he threw your way, and his blatant staring at your covered up swimsuit. One day, Rafe will understand just how much you let him get away with.

But for right now, you let him gently lay you down onto the blanket as he kneels into the sand. You let him trail his kisses from your coconut chapstick-covered salty lips down your neck. You’re so glad nobody’s here.

Rafe’s suckling at your neck, no doubt leaving dark hickies on your skin. You both moan in unison.

You grab onto Rafe’s meaty shoulders, leaving crescent shaped marks on his rosy skin. You bite your lip as he continues to go further down your body, he now resides at your cleavage.

“I knew what you were doing the whole time, y’know that, Ray?” You let out an airy chuckle, alongside a breath that was begging to be pushed out.

“Yeah? That means you wanted me just as bad, huh Buttercup?” Rafe whispers cockily, you physically feel his smirk as he starts to nibble on your ear hotly.

“‘F course…Always want you, baby.” You giggle sweetly in his ear. You can feel Rafe’s boner prodding at your stomach, and it only makes you wetter.

“How about I teach you something, hm? How does that sound sweetheart?” Rafe’s now grinding down on your clothed core, your hand finds the back of his neck, your fingers apply the right amount of pressure that gets Rafe going.

“You can do whatever you want with me.” You whisper, as Rafe begins to pull your bathing suit down; the wet material now resting below your belly button.

You whimper softly as Rafe’s tongue meets your nipples, his swirling movements have your back arching up towards him.

“Hey, baby? I know I literally just said you can do whatever, but I need you to stop all this teasin’ shit.” You pant.

Rafe smirks yet again, a part of you wants to wipe it off his face, but the other part just wants to suck him dry while all he can do is smirk.

“Yeah? What do y’want me to do angel?”

“God, just fuck me already Rafe!” You practically whine. The brunette wastes little time in stripping both you and him bare.

“Thought you loved foreplay,” Rafe’s nearly mocking you at this point, it’s borderline cruel but you can’t find a fuck to give.

“I’ve really had it with that mouth of yours today, either fuck me right here, or I’ll leave you will blue balls for the rest of the day.”

Rafe holds his hand out to your face and you lean up awkwardly, spitting on his palm. He pumps himself a few times before he slides into you. “I fuckin’ love when you threaten me. You’re so hot,” Rafe slurs as his cock nestles deeply inside of you, before almost pulling out completely.

“F-fuck..” You gasp as Rafe begins to pick up speed. His thrusts jostle your body, your tits bouncing as he slobbers in between them.

His balls slap against your skin as you cry out; Rafe’s not any better either. His chest heaves as he lets out deep, guttural moans.

“Yeah, that’s it baby. Take it.” Rafe emphasizes his words with the rough snapping of his hips. You swear your mouth is touching the sand at this point with the way your moans pour out of your mouth.

“Right there, Rafe!” You can’t help but shout, you can feel him everywhere inside. His dick kisses your cervix, leaving you a mewling mess.

Rafe’s the only man you’ve been with that’s ever been able to make you feel utterly cock-drunk, you both are aware of this. You’ve told him before that the others you’ve been with haven't been able to make you climax as good as Rafe does. He fucks you roughly, yet he always makes sure you feel loved and comfortable throughout.

Rafe nudges your hand, which has a death grip on the blanket beneath you both. His large hands intertwine with your smaller ones.

You can’t tell if you’re tearing up from the love from your boyfriend, or from the brutal pace he’s set on. —Most likely the latter.

The way your pussy tightens around him has Rafe’s mind feeling utterly fuzzy. All he can focus on is you. He knows it’s a matter of time before people start showing, so Rafe uses the hand that held your waist to rub small, yet precise circles onto your clit.

Your bare chest is against his, the skin-on-skin contact making you feel as if you’re on cloud nine on top of the stimulation.

“Ray…Ray I’m c-close, baby.” You can’t barely get a word in. You use your hand to push his back down, trying to somehow get him even closer to you.

Rafe opens his eyes to look at you, since they were squeezed shut moments prior.

You’re laying there, hair spread around your head almost in a halo-like manner, and it doesn’t help that the sun is shining down onto you beautifully. If anything, it makes Rafe’s cock twitch inside of you more.

“Yeah. I’m right with you, Buttercup. I promise.” His breath fans your face, as yours does his.

“Please cum with me. Please—Please baby, please give it to me.” Rafe continues to whine and babble in your ears, pleading for you to give him your release as he starts to reach his.

He can’t be bothered to glance around for possible on-lookers, not when you squeak out weak ‘uh-uh-uh’s.

The pornographic moans which come from the both of you fill the air like a cloud of smoke. You're squeezing his hand as he squeezes your hip, no doubt leaving a bruise behind.

With one strong thrust, Rafe shoots his load inside of you with a high pitch, breathy groan, you feel your euphoric release shortly after.

“Fu-uck,” Rafe hiccups. “‘M sorry, I wanted you to cum first but you were squeezin’ s’much and—“ You interrupted his barely coherent rambling with a kiss to his lips, words of reassurance spilling from your mouth.

Rafe takes a spare towel and gently cleans you, he mumbles and apologizes after you hiss at the contact. He takes his shirt which was once discarded after he cleans himself, then covers your frame. He quickly pulls his shorts back up.

You lay shoulder to shoulder with him, and you crane your neck to look at him with a giddy smile, which Rafe reciprocates immediately.

“I love you, baby.” He speaks softly, not wanting to be any louder than the waves that flow a few feet away from the two of you.

“I love you too, Ray.” You hum tiredly while you curl into him.

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks up, momentarily stopping the circles he was rubbing onto your skin. “…You’re still on the pill, right?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you!” You cackle at him, Rafe tries to maintain his facade but his face breaks as he joins in the laughter.

“I’m serious! That’s a serious question!” Rafe digs his digits into your side, tickling you as he rolls on top of you.

“Whatever! I’m still going to teach you how to surf one day, loser!” You yell with a giggle.

And the thing is, he’ll let you teach him; anything your heart desires.

#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx imagine #obx x reader #obx x you #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx fic #outer banks #Spotify

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thefrontmanscockwarmer · 4 months ago

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Just a little bit

In Ho x reader [Smut] 📸

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

This is a post inspired by @457gf X link (provided below, it looks just like it would on 457gf’s profile) Please remember to be logged on X (twitter) for the link to work. Thank youuuu.

Hwang “Just the tip” In Ho

Takes place during season 1.

You were late. Late to wake up, late to work, late. He’s gonna kill me you thought. You knew your boss would definitely be the one to shoot you down. He’d be glad to. You said your prayers and walked out your door, struggling to pull your hood over your head correctly.

You were a square mask. Utmost respect, important, you were gonna die today. You knew you. Cold sweats as you walked towards your post. Another square mask turned his head towards you before looking back and straight ahead.

“Come see me in my office. Now.” The Front Man said.

“Yes sir” you spoke, standing and following him to his office. He was angry, you could hear it in each authoritative step he took. He stood in front of you.

“Remove your mask” you bowed and removed it. (Y/n) (l/n)”

“Yes sir. ID code: 001456457” you stated.

“I didn’t ask for your ID code, idiot.” He spat harshly.

“Why were you late?”

“Sir, I was kept up late by the workers being rambunctious” you said. “Workers 014 and 026 kept making noise and horsing around, I had to attend to them sir. As duty manager 001, I am bound to report them and keep them in line”

“I’m aware of what your job entails as 001, I created the job of 001” he said calmly. “(L/n), do you know why you’re placed as manager 001?”

“No sir” you shook your head.

“Because you’re pretty.” He spoke. “Because the closer you are to me, the easier it is for me to get my hands on you and no one care to ask, because you’re so high up, they know you could kill them and get away with it”

“Thank you sir” you bowed.

“No need for thanks. Drop the act. Let’s speak as humans not as boss and worker” he said. “Look at the food chain, (y/n), CEO are my bosses, I am your boss, you are the boss of soldiers and workers. When you mess up, they act up. You cannot be late”

“Are you going to kill me?” You blurt. In Hos eyes widened.

“No, I’m going to torture you in a way you’ve never imagined.” He said, looked at you through the eyes of the mask. You felt his gaze. “Strip” he ordered.

“Sir?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself” he said with warning. You set your mask in the pocket, removing your shiesty (the ski mask thing they wear). The sound of your zipper echoed through the silent room. Your pink suit dropped to the floor. Revealing a small lazy bra and a matching thong.

His cock aches for you. In Ho told himself this was justified. Worse than killing you, sexual torment. No release. He was a predator and you were his prey. He was going to destroy you inside out till you were convinced it was love and you needed him.

“Turn around.” He gave another order. “You tell anyone what you saw and what we dis in here today and really will kill you, (l/n)”

“Yes sir”

The Front man removed his mask, a handsome face hit behind that cold steel mask. He wasn’t handsome he was

“Beautiful” you said aloud. “You’re beautiful” the corner of his lip curled into a smile before disappearing. No longer visible, now all that was there was the same serious expression. How could an angel be so serious? You thought. He pushed you onto his bed. Undoing his clothes he stood bare in front of you. Abs shining as the sun peeked through the tall windows, a golden light cast upon him.

“Spread your legs.” You nodded, spreading them. “I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of this (y/n) and afterwords, you’ll be wanting more but sent away to your quarters feeling empty” he declared to you. Trailing the tip of his erect cock down the front of your thong.

You let out a soft whimper as In Ho's cock made contact with your clit, only thing between true satisfaction was your thin lace. He started rubbing gently, the friction building between you, your wetness exceeding out of your pussy and past your thong. Low grunts rumbled from his throat as he moved against you, each motion eliciting more whimpers from you.

You watched helplessly as he fucked you. The string of your thong separating him cock from entering you, but you dripping arousal getting his cock wet.

As you continued, your breathing synchronized, heavy and labored. In Ho's movements became more urgent, his grunts deeper and closer together. Your whimpers turned into moans now - "oh god" escaping your lips over and over.

You couldn’t ever tell what you were so turned on by… the fact that he was using you to please himself but not satisfying you, or the way he sounded and looked at you as he did.

In Ho finally reached climax, cumming on your thong in hot spurts that left him shuddering with pleasure and relief. Your pussy, though covered, was white. Your groaned in frustration, clawing at him at he departed from you.

“You have no place with me in this moment. Get dressed and return to your post. I don’t want to see you until the end of the day for clock out.” He said getting dressed.

“Yes sir, thank you, sir” you dressed as quickly as you could. Trying to get out of his overwhelming presence. Before you could finish walking past him, he gripped your forearm tightly.

“Be late again, and next time, I can assure you, I will not be so kind. Do yourself a favor though, (y/n), take pride in your mistake. It got you a ticket to be put on my radar as if I haven’t imagined you bent over my desk. I was just being a gentleman” he let go of you and you scurried off.

He watched you as you did. Smirking like he’s completed something. You’re going to mess up again. That look of desperation said everything he needed to know. You planned on fucking up, just to get back to him. He wanted to destroy you. But he did fall in love with your beauty, just a little bit.

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zorostitties · 2 months ago

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Aurora; 10 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 10k oof

A/N: HELLO EVERYONE!!! ANOTHER 10K BOMB HITTING YOUR HOUSE RIGHT NOWWW 💥💥💥 Many shifting POVs this chapter bc there's too many things happening at the same time!!! Just know I'm rubbing my hands like an evil fly as I post this chapter hehehheheheheh ENJOY!!! <3

⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

Alucard would not fail.

The sky above him was painted in red. The sun, a symbol of hope and life, was hidden behind an eerie shadow that had nothing to do with the natural movement of celestial bodies. The air smelled of salt, iron, apprehension and fear. He was used to this smell – he knew it intimately. He was used to war. How many times had Alucard put his life on the front line before? Uncountable. Every time he faced an enemy, whether weak or strong, he knew there was the possibility of dying. Perhaps that kept him on edge. Perhaps that’s why he kept fighting, aside from his love for humanity.

The men behind him weren’t used to this feeling. The heaviness in the atmosphere, the strange weigh that preceded battle; some of them might’ve fought against humans, not against vampires or demons or deities. They had no idea what waited for them.

And that is why Alucard would not fail.

He stood in front of the defensive lines, his grip on the sword unwavering as he held it close to his chest as a sign to halt. The wind played with his hair and cape. His senses, sharpened beyond human capabilities; he could hear every breath, every step, every whisper, every heartbeat. His own emotions, controlled with the precision of a true master. Serenity. Severity. Confidence. These men needed it. They needed a strong image to look at; they needed an unyielding force to trust.

The moment Alucard entered the Revolutionary Commune holding the severed head of one of Erzsebet’s servants, he understood that he had taken the responsibility over that fight. He also felt that weight over his shoulders – the weight of hundreds of lives of courageous men offering to fight, and hundreds of thousands of other civilians. Elders, children, women… they had been evacuated to the outskirts of the city, but if everything went down, the Vampire Messiah’s army would not spare anyone.

And that is why Alucard would not fail.

That is why his impeccable posture and severe expression did not change when he saw a battalion of vampires approaching from the other side of the bridge. That is why he was firm when he lifted his sword, signaling the men behind him to get ready to shoot. That is why he did not flinch when she finally appeared from within the fog, being carried by two horses in a golden chariot.

Some men gasped at her horrendous figure. Taller than any human being or vampire, her giant red hair looked like a wild lion’s mane; her face was distorted into animalistic traits. While Annette, possessed by Sekhmet’s Akh, looked beautiful and dignified – the goddess of healing –, Erzsebet looked like a ferocious monster – the goddess of war.

She was extremely powerful now. Alucard could feel her pungent power from miles away; the horrid stench of profane magic. She brought fear with herself, as if gravity became heavier around her, luring weaker creatures into submission.

Erzsebet locked eyes with Alucard. Anyone else would’ve passed out with that simple feral gaze. She grinned, exposing her sharp teeth – a smile filled with vanity and anger.

“Alucard!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. “Where is my Ruby?!”

Alucard wanted to kill her.

Right then and right there.

But that was not part of the strategy. He had to keep his own emotions in place. Annette and Richter would take responsibility over fighting her; Alucard had to care for the men behind him.

He held himself back from attacking her. That would dismantle the plan. That would be irrational and Alucard had to be rational regardless of how he felt for her.

From afar, he heard a beautiful unknown male voice singing in a foreign language; Creole, he understood with a bit of surprise. Soldiers, attack. Those who die, so what?

A war cry.

Very appropriate.

Alucard pointed his sword towards her.

“Now!”

Cannons ignited. Multiple explosions. A hailstorm of shots; the front lines of her battalion were immediately obliterated, rows of vampires being reduced to pieces without having a chance to react. The smell of iron became stronger. Smoke clouded the bridge.

“Again!” He ordered. More shots. More explosions.

That wouldn’t be enough to stop Erzsebet and he knew it. Alucard got out of the way the moment she attacked – too fast for a creature so big. She was strong, but hasty, disorganized, too angry for her own good. She was no warrior and that would be their upper hand.

Fuck, Alucard wanted to fight her. He wanted to impale his sword through her chest, he wanted to cut her horrendous head off. He looked at her strength and her size and her ferocity and remembered Ruby’s size compared to her, Ruby’s fragility, Ruby’s inherent fear which was hammered into her – and that made him hate hate hate hate Erzsebet. But the battlefield was no place for hate; hate clouds your perception, your senses, your intelligence. He had to trust his plan and his allies.

So Alucard turned around and ran.

He lead his men to the backstreets, abandoning the bridge. Erzsebet’s followers saw it as weakness. Vampires were predators; if you act like prey, they would naturally be attracted… and their instinct was their doom.

The streets were barricaded with meters and meters of rubble.

Before the vampires realized they were cornered, another hailstorm of shots fell over them – coming from above.

Soldiers hidden inside the street’s buildings shot again, and again, and again. Alucard’s vision sharpened as he attacked before they could regroup. These vampires knew who he was. These vampires trembled, knowing they had no chance against him – and their expression of fear would remain forever when Alucard sliced their heads off; in their vision, he was but a red blur of death, moving too fast to be stopped.

He moved on to the next street, and the next, and the next in a frantic pace, not stopping for a second to breathe. He needed to eliminate as many opponents as possible to minimize the chances of melee battle between humans and vampires while keeping the battalions focused on that part of the city – away from the refugee citizens and away from the tailor shop where Ruby was hidden. Alucard was like the grim reaper himself: no one could stand on his way. It seemed no one was enough of an opponent for him. No one made him lose his balance, no one was enough of a threat for him to wield his sword with both hands, no one broke his sprint. To witness that was like the fire of courage the soldiers needed to keep fighting. They had a strong ally; they could win.

Alucard already knew she was coming before she even appeared in his field of view.

He felt her presence, the flap of her gigantic wings behind him. When she halted her flight on the building in front of him, holding a maniacal grin and with the gaze of a killer, Alucard was ready to face her.

He already knew at that point that Drolta was the real danger. Drolta was the mastermind, the strategist behind everything. In this great chess game, Erzsebet might’ve been the King – the most important piece in the board, but Drolta was the Queen – the most powerful piece, the one that could move freely.

The ruby necklace sat on Drolta’s collarbones.

He’d been planning to defeat her for the past five years. He had killed her once and lost to her resurrected form once, too. Now, it didn’t only feel like it was his duty; it felt like justice.

Ruby’s frightened expression upon seeing Drolta again resurfaced in his mind.

I promise I won’t fail you again. Erzsebet and Drolta won’t get anywhere near you.

It was time to end this.

Drolta launched herself at full speed towards him. He gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands.

Alucard would not fail.

Mizrak had never felt so small as in the moment he landed in Paris.

With the help of Maria’s and Juste’s magic, they managed to fly to the capital in just a few hours. Mizrak ignored the dizziness and nausea, immediately focusing on the situation at hand.

Paris was in chaos. He could hear the screams and shots even from the sky – the sounds of battle. Blood painted the streets, made the air smell of iron. Spots of smoke peppered around the city, flashes of light illuminated the red sky. He’d never witnessed a battle so big, so heated, so violent before.

And at the center of the square where Richter and Annette waited stood the most gruesome creature he’d ever seen.

Mizrak took a second to understand that that was Erzsebet. She had transfigured herself into an even uglier, unholier thing; she was worse than any night creature he’d seen. Mizrak hated her. He hated that Emmanuel had placed all his bets on her and died for it. He hated himself for helping her to some degree; he was well aware that he had his share of fault in this.

He almost didn’t notice that Annette looked different – there were too many things to take in at the same time – and Richter explained that she was also possessed by this… entity, and that somehow granted them an advantage. Maria, Juste and Richter immediately took fighting positions. Mizrak unsheathed his curved sword.

He knew there was no way for him to face that demon. Maria, young and short the way she was, already proved herself to be a powerful magician; he saw Erzsebet’s servants gasp when she opened a huge golden portal and summoned a gigantic blue dragon from it. A part of him felt proud of her for being able to control her powers after so much effort.

Juste was an old man, but just as powerful as the blonde girl. He evoked lightning and ice and fire as easily as he breathed. And Richter united his magic prowess to his brutal fighting style and muscular physique – all the while Annette (or Sekhmet, whatever) worked on weakening Erzsebet.

As soon as they started fighting, the square became literal hell.

Their attacks seemed to shake the world itself. The three of them fought like a single body, in pure synchronicity, not letting Erzsebet stop for a second to recover. Their magic made Mizrak feel goosebumps, made his stomach drop.

Mizrak was just a man with a sword. He did not compare to them in any way.

But King David was a small boy and even so, he killed Goliath, a giant; because he had faith within him. Because he had God with him, guiding his movements, clearing his path to victory. Light always beats darkness – and Mizrak believed that God, the only true God, was on their side in this battlefield.

For the Lord is righteous and loves justice; the upright will see His face.

Mizrak might be just a man in the middle of beasts, but no man is ordinary when God stands by them.

He attacked.

His sanctified sword was the harbinger of justice against his enemies. Vampire after vampire, he slashed heads and stomachs, severed members; at every fallen enemy, he felt that he was little by little avenging all these poor soldiers killed in Machecoul by Drolta. He still remembered the smell of blood and fear that filled the air that afternoon; he still remembered the tears he shed, the despair he felt, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop that carnage.

Every cloaked vampire in the square was killed either by him, his allies, or even indirectly by Erzsebet in their violent fight. There was nothing he could contribute there anymore. He ran towards a nearby street.

His heartbeat throbbed in his ears. The ground beneath his feet shook – the result of the magical fight behind him or cannon explosions. The cobblestones were painted in blood; fallen soldiers were everywhere. Some already dead, some on the verge of it. Screams and shots came from all directions. Mizrak kept running, looking for more enemies; a tall wall of rubble that barricaded the street forced him to turn left.

More cloaked servants. With a scream of effort, Mizrak slashed the nearest one and jumped to the next. Vampires might’ve been stronger and faster than human beings, but most of these vampires weren’t fighters; they were just overconfident aristocrats that lived most of their lives inside palaces, hunting clueless humans in the night to feed. Mizrak doubted many of them ever faced anyone in battle before.

Of course, even a regular vampire was much more dangerous than a regular human. The multiple bodies on the floor he saw on his way was proof of it. Mizrak knew he had to be careful; a vampire is never too weak.

He moved on to the next street. Screams attracted him; three human soldiers tried to keep the barricade of rubble standing while an unknown force on the other side tried to destroy it. His heart dropped a little when he realized the soldiers were boys – probably even younger than Richter.

Mizrak rushed, leaning his back against the ruble with the strength of his whole body, replacing the skinnier looking soldier; the three of them were surprised.

“One of you, climb the wall and shoot!” He ordered through gritted teeth. Whatever was on the other side was too strong even for him; he wouldn’t take it for much longer than a minute.

Luckily, they weren’t too shocked to move. Two of the boys, a ginger one and a black haired one, immediately climbed over the tall wall with their muskets. Each could only shoot once, so they had to hope it would be enough to stop whatever waited for them. They silently counted to three before emerging, pointing their weapons down to the other side and shooting.

The pressure stopped.

Mizrak sighed in relief and leaned away, already feeling his arms and shoulders heavy with fatigue. But he couldn’t stop, not when his allies and these young boys were giving their all. Before the two soldiers could even climb down the wall again, Mizrak already had sprinted to the next alley, looking for opponents.

Mizrak kept running and running and running. A puddle of blood on the floor almost made him trip and fall. God, there were so many corpses; the remains of humans, vampires and night creatures… Mizrak already knew these images would stay with him for a long time. His throat felt dry, it almost burned. Sweat covered his entire body. He ignored all of that. The pain, the fatigue, his feelings, all of that brushed aside to the farthest corner of his mind–

And his mind went actually blank when the glimpse of a moss green skirt passed by him.

Mizrak widened his eyes. A woman? A human woman?! What was she doing in the middle of the chaos?! Maybe she didn’t evacuate for some reason? That wasn’t a vampire – she wasn’t wearing a black and red cloak. Cold fear immediately crawled his skin for that woman. She wouldn’t stay alive for much longer there.

He turned on the same corner she did – hell, that woman was fast. She had already almost reached the end of the street. “Mademoiselle, wait!” he yelled. The woman stopped for a second and looked back–

Wait.

He knew that face.

Worry immediately turned to suspicion; his widened eyes narrowed, his expression hardened. The woman stopped running, but he didn’t. She held some sort of golden staff in her hands.

She widened her eyes in shock when Mizrak grabbed her by both arms and slammed her against the nearest wall.

“What are you doing here?!” He demanded.

The young woman looked up at him with round scared eyes that almost made him feel bad. She gripped the scepter close to her chest, sweat dripped down her forehead, her hair was disheveled. What was her name again? It had something to do with a jewel stone… was it Jade? Pearl?– It didn’t matter. What mattered is that Mizrak never trusted her for a second.

He even questioned if Alucard was right by bringing her along to Paris, but decided to not argue since he knew the vampire was strong and could deal with the situation if she offered any danger. Now, though? Her running around the streets, alone, unsupervised?

That could mean no good.

She blinked a few times. “M-Mizrak, isn’t it?!” She asked in a breathless voice. “Please, I need your help. I need to–“

“Why should I listen to a word you say?” Mizrak pressed on. She visibly shrunk. Once again, he felt a bit bad, but decided to brush it aside. “You said you were helping Erzsebet summon eclipses, and yet look up. They did it without you. Liar!”

“I wasn’t lying!” She gripped the scepter with even more strength; for the first time, a glimpse of anger crossed her features. “Erzsebet reunited with the second half of Sekhmet’s soul, that is why she didn’t need me this time!”

“And you said you weren’t a witch, yet what is it that you’re holding?!” Mizrak ignored what she said and his eyes dropped to the golden scepter she held. It had a strange symbol of the sun on its tip and multiple scriptures in a language he didn’t know. Clearly paganism. “You were just waiting for an opportunity to act, isn’t it? Erzsebet’s witch!”

She looked actually angry for a second; but her eyes suddenly locked with something behind him and they widened.

“Watch out!”

She moved faster than him.

The jewel stone girl used her scepter to push Mizrak out of the way, pressing it on the side of his body; it wasn’t enough to send him flying away – Mizrak was way too heavy for that – but he lost his balance regardless. This saved his life. If he had stayed on that same spot a second longer, he would’ve had his head ripped off by a cloaked vampire.

Mizrak turned around and unsheathed his sword again in a quick motion, slicing the head of the vampire off with a scream of effort.

They watched the body on the ground, both breathless and in silence, for some seconds.

Mizrak turned back to her slowly.

She… had saved his life. But that wasn’t enough to convince him.

The young woman gulped and hardened her expression.

“Sir, I need you to trust me. Please, I just want to help them. Y-You’ve seen how many losses they’ve had. Erzsebet’s army is stronger and you know it.” She stepped closer to him.

Mizrak gripped the hilt of his sword harder. “All the odds are against you.”

She groaned.

Jewel stone girl looked fragile and scared the entire time he’d been around her at the ruins of Machecoul – and it didn’t quite convince him. At that moment, however, the heat of the battle seemed to get the best of her.

She was also on her limit.

“Fine!” And then her voice wasn’t quiet and controlled anymore. Finally, she’s letting her mask fall, a part of Mizrak thought–

But then she grabbed the blade of Mizrak’s sword and brought it close to her own neck.

Her hand immediately bled. The tip of the blade made a tiny cut on the base of her neck, yet she didn’t flinch; she stared at Mizrak with pure anger and determination. More than that – she was challenging him.

“Cut my head off, then!” She growled in a way that took Mizrak by surprise. He… he didn’t expect her to talk like that at all, not with the way he saw her behave before. “Go on, do it if you’re so suspicious of me! I won’t die anyway, I don’t care. But many more people will die and they can’t heal the way I do, unless we do something about it! Or will you keep wasting time questioning me?!”

Mizrak didn’t move.

Neither did she.

Blood dripped from her palm to her forearm, staining the white sleeve of her blouse. The way she didn’t flinch away from pain was impressive, he had to admit. The way her gaze didn’t waver was also a bit impressive… Mizrak was as muscular as a bull. He was the one holding the sword… and she didn’t look that scared of him – at least, not anymore.

And yet… Mizrak didn’t want to trust her.

Because trusting her meant trusting Olrox and he didn’t want to trust Olrox.

Hell, he didn’t want to think about Olrox – but he was the reason she was there anyway. It was Olrox who told Mizrak about jewel stone girl’s existence in the first place. Yes, he delivered the news to Alucard, but back then, he thought she would be a hostage; he never expected that Alucard and the others would simply let her walk freely.

Mizrak didn’t want to admit that his problem wasn’t with her directly; his anger was towards the damned green eyed vampire. The coward green eyed vampire that could be fighting with them at that moment but that chose to run away to the New World instead. The coward that had the audacity to invite him; as if Mizrak would ever run away from his duties and his beliefs.

Mizrak didn’t want to think about Olrox because if he did, he’d have to admit that a tiny hidden part of him was also relieved that he was away from this chaos, away from the maniacal vampire that would hunt him down eventually.

So he focused on the girl in front of him instead, the anger and determination in her eyes, the way she told him to cut her head off as if it was nothing, the way her palm bled and she didn’t move away regardless – and Mizrak decided that she wasn’t Olrox after all, which meant he could give her a chance.

Mizrak pulled his sword away from her grip and let his arm fall to the side of his body. He looked down at her with a high chin and a tightened jaw. She seemed uneasy for a moment.

“...I will cut your head off if I notice you’re acting suspicious for a second,” he declared with severity. “What is your plan?”

She was visibly relieved.

The young woman held the scepter with both hands again. “This scepter can storage sunlight somehow. I… I can awaken it. But I’ll need a high place to make it more effective.”

Mizrak frowned. “You can enter any of these empty buildings and go upstairs–“

“A higher place. The highest point in the area.”

The black haired monk thought for some seconds. The highest point in the city…

He heard steps behind him, which immediately made him turn around and lift his sword defensively – but it was not necessary.

The three young soldiers from earlier came running around the corner. They were all visibly tired, holding swords now that their muskets were probably out of gunpowder. Were they running after Mizrak since that moment?

But they didn’t seem to care for Mizrak, actually.

“Mademoiselle!” The ginger one widened his eyes. The three of them were shocked to see her here.

“What are you doing here, Miss Ruby?!” The black haired one said. The third blond boy frowned.

“Who said you could address her by her name?!”

Oh. So Ruby is her name.

The three boys reached them, immediately offering to get Ruby to safety at the same time. She tried to calm them down – Henri, Charles and Jules were their names – while Mizrak looked around the street.

The highest point in the city…

Then, it hit him.

It was obvious. It was in the eye of the hurricane. Most vampires and night creatures were focused there. Erzsebet was also close by. Mizrak wasn’t sure if bringing Ruby there, so close to that crazy vampire, would be a good idea… but there was no better place.

He turned around.

“Soldiers,” he called with authority; the three boys immediately turned to him. Mizrak wasn’t wearing a Revolutionary uniform like them, but you’d have to be a fool to argue with him. “We will escort this lady to the Notre Dame. No questions asked, we don’t have time.”

They wanted to ask questions, but they turned to Ruby – and the look she gave them made them became puddles over her feet.

“Please. I need your help,” she asked with impatient sweetness.

They immediately straightened their backs and nodded.

“Yes, Mademoiselle!”

“Anything for you!”

Mizrak refrained from rolling his eyes and gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands again. His body was aching, his throat was burning, his heart was confused – but he still had a fight ahead of him, so he brushed all that aside.

“Let’s go.”

They ran.

Mizrak took the lead; Ruby was right behind him, while the three boys protected her from her sides and rear. Just around the corner, they faced the first group of enemies; the monk, once again, took the lead and attacked first. He managed to take down two vampires while the third one tried to approach from the sides. The blond boy, Jules, blocked his attack with the sword, while the black haired one, Charles, sliced his head off.

Although they were successful, both looked extremely distressed with what they had just done; their faces went pale, eyes widened. They probably had been facing their enemies from afar, not on melee combat. Mizrak was about to yell at them – not because he didn’t feel empathy for them, but because the battlefield was no place to freeze.

But Ruby surprised him once again.

“We have to keep going!” She rushed them in an impatient tone, breaking them out of their trance. She wasn’t shocked at all. She didn’t seem to have a lot of empathy for them, actually, as if death was too casual for her to care...

But regardless of her methods, it worked. Mizrak went back to running, not waiting for them to recover, and they followed shortly.

Another corner turned, another explosion; they met a group of soldiers running on the opposite direction. They gesticulated vehemently for them to go back.

“Retreat! There are monsters fighting back there! You’ll be trampled like ants!” They yelled.

Mizrak knew they were right and knew to ignore them. No man is ordinary with God, he repeated it in his head over and over again to convince himself, to push him forward. The group kept running tirelessly. Another cloaked vampire. They attacked.

No man is ordinary with God. His knees were heavy. His wrists ached. The muscles of his arms burned. Mizrak brushed all that aside.A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand; but no evil will come near you. The next enemy came. He raised his sword and attacked. The next enemy came, and the next. They turned on another corner. The boys behind him protected and attacked from the sides. Mizrak didn’t stop to look back, putting blind faith in them.

No man is ordinary with God.

Mizrak knew this entire battle was already burned into his soul. He would never forget the horrendous faces, the bloodshed, the pain in his body. They would haunt him forever. Yet, he didn’t stop to think about anything; how these vampires were stronger than him, that if he let his guard down for a second, he’d be killed. But he reminded himself: The Lord is my light and my salvation; of whom shall I be afraid?

So he just moved forward.

Finally, they reached the square in front of the gigantic cathedral. Without the protection of buildings on both sides, they would have no way to hide – and the square was infested of night creatures and vampires. For the first time, Mizrak stopped running and signaled for the ones behind him to halt, crossing his eyes through the open area.

The cathedral’s front doors were closed. Mizrak realized with confusion that the night creatures were fighting among themselves, but he decided there was no time to question that; if the beasts were too focused in killing each other, they hopefully wouldn’t notice them passing by, which could be an advantage. Mizrak gulped, his burning throat begged for water. His entire body ached. But no, there was no time to focus on any of that. The task ahead of them was difficult; they had to try anyway. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God–

A lightning slashed the sky.

The thunder that followed was stronger than any cannon; it made everything shake. Even the vampires and night creatures at the square looked up in confusion. There were no storm clouds in the sky, what could’ve caused that? One of Juste’s powers, maybe? But it felt different for some reason–

Another lightning. Mizrak was looking up this time.

It had a purplish color.

His heartbeat immediately increased, his eyes widened. He thought he saw a strange big shadow in between the tall buildings, it looked to be flying over the ceilings… was he going insane? He– He knew the color of that magic. His chest filled with unstoppable expectation and hope; was it… Was it who he thought it was–?!

Mizrak tightened his eyes and shook his head violently. No. No, you don’t have time for that. It’s not him. Don’t think of him. You have to cross that square.

The black haired monk looked back. Ruby also had a focused expression, analyzing what was in front of them, holding the scepter strongly. Although she was sweating, she didn’t look nearly as tired as the three boys or Mizrak himself. Did her healing ability also heal tiredness?

“Let’s take advantage of the distraction,” Mizrak said. She nodded. He looked ahead again and gripped the sword with both hands once more; his wrists and fingers hurt so much that Mizrak didn’t think he’d be able to stretch them for a while.

Mizrak took a deep breath.

No man is ordinary with God.

��Come on!”

They leaped into the square.

His heart throbbed faster than ever. His vision was focused on their destination. Growls, screams, flesh being pierced, shots, rumbles from the magical battle happening not far from there, more purple lightnings; chaos was what echoed from all directions, making his head ache. They avoided the spots of night creature fights without slowing their pace, moving as a single body. They were halfway there. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God…

“It’s her!”

Mizrak whipped his head to the side.

A cloaked vampire pointed towards them – towards Ruby – with a ferocious expression.

“It’s the woman the Vampire Messiah talked about!” He continued, drawing the attention of the vampires around him. “Whoever takes her will be rewarded!”

Fuck!

“Keep running!” Mizrak yelled looking over his shoulder. As if it was needed. For the first time, he saw fear plastered over Ruby’s face again.

The vampires chased them now.

We’re almost there we’re almost there we’re almost there keep running keep running keep running–

Finally finally finally– the group reached the central doors of the cathedral.

And they were locked.

Henri and Jules tried to push them open with the strength of their bodies, yet they didn’t move. Meanwhile, the vampires gathered around them. They were cornered.

Rage filled Mizrak’s heart.

These vampires – they would not enter the house of God. His wrists hurt his fingers hurt his arms hurt his breathing was difficult. It didn’t matter. As if he felt empowered by colossal building behind him, the earthly materialization of the Lord’s fearing size, Mizrak stood tall, taking a defensive position. They would not stain the cathedral with their presence or their filthy blood. Mizrak would be its defender despite his aching body.

For no man is ordinary with God.

Jules and Charles took their places by his sides while Ruby and Henri kept trying to push the doors open. Nine vampires against three tired humans.

Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then I will be confident.

The vampires attacked.

The three defended.

Everything became a blur of blood and pain and screams and grunts and growls. Mizrak slashed, blocked, crouched down, jumped; one enemy fell. He pushed Charles out of the way before he could be stabbed. The second enemy fell. Mizrak pierced a chest with his sword. The third fell. Jules and Charles worked together to kill one of them; Mizrak slashed one more neck. The fifth and the sixth. The seventh was taken down from behind – someone shot him from across the square, though he could not see who exactly was helping them.

A loud scratching noise behind them.

“It’s opened!” Ruby screamed; he turned briefly to see that they had burst the locks. Henri and her pushed the heavy doors open with their backs. “Quick, let’s get in!”

The three retreated with their backs still facing the cathedral, blades still held up; a slight breeze of relief hit Mizrak. The vampires wouldn’t follow them inside. They couldn’t step in, he was confident of that. No man is ordinary with God. The Lord had helped him achieve this, had held his hands, guided his blade towards victory.

An eighth enemy still stood. Mizrak stepped forward to face it.

“Come in, Mizrak!” Charles rushed him; Henri had entered, Jules too, and they were trying to pull Ruby in, but she seemed to refuse to until Mizrak joined them.

He looked ahead again. Blocked an attack, slashed another neck. There were vampires approaching from afar. He had to walk in to safety. Another purple lightning crossed the sky; Mizrak looked up for a moment, once more under the impression that he saw a strange huge shadow–

“MIZRAK!”

It was too late.

Mizrak didn’t have time to look back at Ruby.

Lacerating pain.

His body shook. His vision blurred. Strength left his legs.

Slowly, Mizrak looked down.

A dagger pierced through his stomach. A stain of blood grew larger over the cross on his uniform.

The ninth vampire.

Rage painted Mizrak’s vision in red; a scream erupted from within him while he raised his sword one last time, still carried by adrenaline, slashing the vampire’s torso and neck.

His enemy fell.

Mizrak couldn’t breathe properly anymore; a single tear slid down his cheek. He pressed his tightened fist over the wound, feeling his own warm blood drip down his clothes; the world twirled. The pain was nauseating. It was maddening.

It’s like he could hear Notre Dame’s bells ringing in his ears.

Mizrak… Mizrak was a step away from entering the cathedral.

Yet, he couldn’t walk anymore.

Freezing cold crept over his body. He fought and fought and fought in the name of the Lord; he prayed and prayed and prayed, tried to repent, tried to convince Emmanuel to repent before his death. He had cut ties with Olrox. He… he did everything.

No.

“Mizrak!” He heard Ruby’s voice again, but she sounded distant; he felt the soft touch of her hand on his shoulder, but he pushed her away with the little strength he still had.

“Get in, woman,” he groaned, feeling the taste of iron in his tongue. “You… you said you had a plan. I will… protect the entrance.”

He knew he couldn’t. She knew it, too, and still hesitated.

Mizrak refused to look at her.

“Get in, now!” He screamed.

After a few seconds, he heard steps behind him retreating – then, the sound of the heavy doors being closed again.

Another tear fell down Mizrak’s cheek.

His legs had no strength anymore. He fell to his knees.

He felt so, so cold. Not only the wound hurt, his entire body ached. He panted, the grip around the sword finally loosened.

A quiet sob escaped past his lips. Mizrak looked up. The statues of Kings of Judah seemed to be looking directly at him. Another purple lightning illuminated the sky, casting eerie shadows over their faces.

Angry faces. Judging faces.

Mizrak stood in front of the Portal of the Last Judgment – and he had just been judged.

Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God?

The tears were now unstoppable. Mizrak gripped the fabric of his uniform, his entire body trembled. How foolish, how presumptuous of him to think he’d keep these vampires away from the house of God when he was not allowed to get in; not anymore. That was the clear confirmation of all his worst suspicions, his most horrendous nightmares. What awaited him on the other side wasn’t Saint Peter’s welcoming words, wasn’t Virgin Mary’s motherly hug; what waited for him were the fires that would burn him eternally. What waited for him was the Devil that came to reap Emmanuel’s soul.

No immoral, impure or greedy person has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.

Finally, his body gave up. Mizrak laid on the cold floor, feeling all of his strength vanish and every centimeter of him shake in cold fear. It was so, so cold. It was so, so painful. It was so lonely and frightening.

God was not beside him anymore – and so, Mizrak became an ordinary man.

Another purple lightning. A shrilling bestial growl crossed the air. Mizrak was ordinary. Mizrak was impure. Mizrak was a sinner.

Mizrak wished, as death approached him like the freezing winds of North, that he could see Olrox again one last time.

And then – he didn’t wish for anything anymore.

Darkness.

The sound of the doors closing echoed within the gigantic cathedral like thunders.

Your fingers were shaking, the grip around the scepter wasn’t as determined as before. Mizrak… that wound would kill him, and there was nothing you could do. You begged for his help and you wouldn’t be able to help him in the end…

This has to work. It has to, no matter what, so his sacrifice won’t be in vain.

“Mademoiselle, we’re here. W-What do we do now?” Jules asked while he and Charles kept their backs leaning against the doors. The three of them were panting and sweating, you didn’t know how long it’d take for them to be completely exhausted.

“I need to climb the tower!” You said, looking around the great entrance hall of the cathedral, pushing your worry and guilt for Mizrak to the back of your mind. The noises of the outside battle were muffled, every small sound you produced echoed. The cathedral was, in a way, even more magnificent than the Louvre; it wasn’t as opulent, and that perhaps was what brought this chilling sense of greatness. The high vaulted ceiling made you feel small; the reflex of the stained glass on the floor being illuminated by the strange purple lightnings out there was somehow eerie. The place was dimly lit by candles.

You were surprised to notice that, at the very back of the cathedral, after rows and rows of wooden benches, there were people; knelt down in front of the great altar where hundreds of candles burned slowly. They were too far for you to even recognize any face, but they seemed surprised by your presence. They wore monk tunics. Oh… you understood. They refused to leave their temple even in the middle of a war. You could respect their courage and nobility.

One more group of people that would be dead soon if you didn’t succeed.

“I’ll stay here and hold the doors,” Jules spoke up. “You two, help her get up there!”

Charles and Henri nodded. “This way, Mademoiselle!” The redhead exclaimed, pointing toward the stairs that led to the north bell tower. You nodded.

The monks were fast approaching. Before turning around and following the two boys, you looked at them; “Please, help him barricade the doors!”

Luckily, no one wanted to argue – they understood the gravity of the situation. Before finally disappearing inside a corridor, you had time to see the group of monks dragging wooden benches toward the doors in order to lock it again.

And then, you were faced with hundreds of hundreds of steps to climb.

The spiral staircase was made of stone, just like the walls around you; it was a small passage, almost claustrophobic. You held some of your skirt and started your way up; Charles took the lead while Henri covered you from behind. The tower was humid and dark; there were small windows in regular gaps, but as the sun was hidden behind that maleficent shadow, it didn’t provide much light.

“We- We should’ve taken some candles…” You heard Henri complain through ragged breath behind you.

That’s when a new source of light appeared.

They hadn’t noticed it before because you weren’t in such a dark environment, but the inscriptions of the scepter had been glowing faintly for a while now, probably fueled by your fear and apprehension; its glow got a bit stronger after you saw Mizrak being stabbed. The object was slowly becoming warmer, too.

Charles looked behind his shoulder with a shocked expression.

“How–?”

“I don’t know. Let’s keep moving,” you rushed them.

They didn’t argue.

The three of you were panting, and the sound echoed within the tower. You didn’t dare to look out the small windows, trying to not get more desperate. There were so many corpses out there… how many of the men you helped yesterday, distributing uniforms or water or food, had already been killed? How many wives wouldn’t have their husbands back, or how many children would never see their fathers again?

Of course, all the volunteers were well aware of the possibility of dying. You can’t weave into war and expect no casualties. But that didn’t change the fact that there was a great imbalance in the scales; Erzsebet’s side had much more men, and a single vampire is worth ten regular humans, not to mention the night creatures – although, surprisingly, most of them seemed to be too busy trying to kill each other down there.

Finally, the stairs opened to another great hall. The large stained glass windows indicated that you had only arrived at the second level of the cathedral.

“That way!” Charles indicated another set of stairs that led to a mezzanine; from there, there was a door that seemed to lead up the tower.

Inside that door – more spiral stairs.

Your knees were starting to feel heavier and heavier; you felt sweat dripping down your entire body, gluing your blouse to your back. Your muscles seemed to burn and a sharp irritating pain tugged on the right side of your stomach. Yet, you didn’t stop for a moment, leaping two steps at time. Your discomfort was nothing compared to what Mizrak endured down there, these boys that had cuts and bruises on their bodies, or all the other soldiers that got hurt in battle.

May Annette and Richter be safe, you wished for the hundredth time. May that goddess leave Annette’s body soon.

You looked down briefly to the red string tied around your right wrist.

If anything happens, anything at all, untie this string. It’s what Alucard asked of you.

He’d probably be so angry and disappointed that you disobeyed him. But you refused to untie that; Alucard had his duty to comply, the same way Annette and Richter had theirs. It wouldn’t be fair to simply call him at that moment. Not only did you not want to interrupt them, there was a part of you – a proud part, perhaps? Since when were you proud of anything? – that wanted to accomplish this without them. You didn’t want to feel useless anymore.

If you didn’t succeed, it’d all be for nothing. You’d have put these three young men in danger, gotten Mizrak hurt – probably killed – and would bring even more trouble over Alucard’s shoulders.

It’s going to work. I know it will. Something inside me is sure of it.

Five minutes of unstoppable climbing and you saw the outside light again.

The balcony extended around the entire structure of the cathedral, crossing it over the main hall and going around the south tower as well; the north bell tower stood tall behind you. However, it was so narrow that more than two people wouldn’t be able to walk side by side comfortably. A refreshing gust of wind hit your body; you felt hot and drenched of sweat after so much running and climbing. You leaned on the stone guard rail, giving yourself a second to recover your breathing.

Maybe you shouldn’t have.

It was tall. Unnervingly tall. You had a good view of most of the city from there – and it only made you feel more desperate.

Fire outbreaks peppered here and there; it was a complete and terrible chaos. From this distance, everyone looked like ants. The strange purple lightnings had stopped. You wondered what was causing these things; Richter’s magic was blue, and as far as you knew, he didn’t know how to fly to be the source of it. So what was that? And why did it make your stomach drop?

Was it part of Sekhmet’s power? She had told you to keep away; maybe, for some reason, her powers would make you feel ill like that?

Charles was also leaning over the guard rail, catching his breath, while Henri leaned his hands over his knees. They were probably already exhausted, much more than you after all that running and fighting. Your throat burned, desperately begging for water. You adjusted your grip on the scepter.

“Is… Is this… enough?” Henri asked, panting.

You looked around.

This height was decent – but not enough.

How you knew that? You couldn’t tell, and you didn’t have time to question it. You decided to just follow your instincts.

You looked up to the top of the bell tower. It was imposing, scary. The stone gargoyles up there seemed to be gazing at you; it was like they didn’t like your presence. Well, they’d have to bear it.

You pointed up. “I need to get to the top.”

The two eyed each other. You couldn’t even be mad at them. Henri was ready to point the direction–

A hiss slashed the air.

You turned back to see that a vampire had climbed the tower, too, from outside; he jumped over the railing onto the balcony, right behind Henri.

You moved before your mouth could speak.

Repeating the movement you made with Mizrak, you pushed him out of the way with the scepter – but this time, you weren’t fast enough; the cloaked vampire’s sharp claws gnawed his right shoulder. Henri yelled in pain; blood splashed on your skirt.

The thought process behind your next action was fast.

You remembered how that vampire burned just by touching the scepter at the alley; you looked at how it was glowing – not as bright as it was at that time, and not as hot as well, but it was awakened anyway. Anger crossed your vision. You couldn’t do anything to help Mizrak; this time, you wouldn’t just stand and watch Henri get hurt.

You held the scepter with both hands. Putting all of your strength, you swung it towards the vampire.

The rays of the sun symbol were actually very sharp.

They slashed the vampire’s eyes; he screamed in agony, the spot where the scepter touched burned. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but he was certainly blind. His blood on the sun symbol boiled and evaporated in seconds.

While the man was completely disoriented, screaming in pain, Charles run towards him and pushed him over the stone railing.

You didn’t wait to see him hitting the ground.

“Henri!” You rushed towards him; the redhead boy gripped his shoulder, blood spilled from the wound.

Henri groaned. Charles put his good arm over his own shoulders. “Let’s get inside! There are more coming!”

You ran ahead this time and entered through a door that led to – sigh – more spiral stairs. They were even narrower this time, more claustrophobic. The two boys walked in and slammed the door shut; Charles took Henri’s sword and used it to lock it between the hinges. Someone tried to push it open and the two leaned their backs against it.

“Go, Mademoiselle!” Charles said. “We’ll hold them back!”

You hesitated for a second. Henri was hurt, both of them were tired. But would you have another chance if you stayed to help them?

So you turned and ran up.

You ignored how heavy your legs felt, how breathless you were, how your knees already wanted to fail you. The scepter was slowly but surely getting hotter as your desperation increased. You jumped two, three steps at once, trying to get there faster faster faster. You tripped and hit both knees on the edge of a step, immediately scratching both of them, but ignored it and kept climbing. Would they be able to fight down there? Would they survive? What if you left them behind to get killed? Would you be able to live with this guilt?

I have to make it. I have to make it. I have to make it.

Finally – a door appeared. You ran past it.

The very top of the bell tower.

The balcony was wider than on the level below you. The view was nauseating – you were so, so high up; you could see the Seine surrounding the cathedral on both ways, hundreds of ceilings as far as the eye could see. There were no taller buildings. Nothing that could hinder the power of the scepter.

You were shaking. You were panting. Your legs hurt. Strong wind played with your skirt and hair, it even felt that if you stood too close to the stone railing, it’d push you over the edge. Strange colorful explosions popped down there, but you couldn’t see what or who was causing it.

None of that mattered, not at that moment.

You walked to the middle point of the balcony and held the scepter with both hands once again. The inscriptions still glowed faintly, it was starting to feel uncomfortably hot.

A deep breath.

This is going to work. It will. It will.

You held it in front of you with the sun symbol pointed up at a close distance from your body. The chaos in the city extended up until where your eye could see. The sky still had that horrible red color, as if it was painted with blood.

Ruby. The same color of your delicious blood.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You didn’t know why you remembered this at that moment. Just the thought of that horrendous vampire made your stomach twirl. She, who treated you worse than an animal for longer than your brain could register; she who fed on your blood constantly as if you were but a meal. She who broke your very spirit to pieces until you became nothing but the compliant shell of a woman; empty, having no more strength to fight anymore. Because you fought her. You tried to push her away, to claw her face, to pull her hair; you tried so many times and failed so many times that you were too tired to keep trying.

She who made you lost who you truly were. Would you ever be able to retrieve it? Would you be able to find within yourself, in your memories, the person you really were before she called you Ruby that night?

Who was I before Ruby?

The inscriptions glowed a little brighter.

Your breath hitched when you realized that you could see her from up there.

Blocks and blocks away at some square – the source of the strange colorful lights you saw earlier; you couldn’t understand exactly what was happening, but recognized that blue fire… Richter’s fire. And then yellow lightning and red fire, too… A blue dragon flying over the buildings. All of that directed at her.

Erzsebet was but a dot in the distance, but you recognized that red hair.

A part of you – the part that was trained to fear – immediately shook, had the instinct to run inside the tower again and hide. What if she saw you there? She’d grab you and never let you go. She’d hurt you again and again and again until you forgot about everything; all the people you’ve met, all the things you discovered and experienced in these few days, and then you’d be just an empty shell again.

The other part of you felt angry.

Erzsebet was fighting against the people that took care of you, the first people that were ever kind to you, the people that treated you like an equal. She was hurting them the same way she hurt you so many times before.

You hated her.

You hated her with every fiber of your being.

It ignited your soul, set it on fire. That woman had to die. She had to die.

You used this hatred when you started to read the inscriptions on the scepter.

Alucard had advised you against it – but you knew at that moment it was the right thing to do. Once again, you could not understand what these words meant; but, while reading the moon book you felt disgusted and weak, now you felt stronger. Exhaustion completely vanished from your body, your scratched knees didn’t hurt anymore.

The scepter glowed brighter; brighter, brighter, brighter. The sun symbol started to shine. Not as bright as it did at the alley – so you kept reading.

It felt like you fell on a trance.

All the times Erzsebet drank your blood. All the times Drolta punished you. All the pain. All the humiliation. Being dragged from place to place, not having the right to even walk out of a room; all the humans you had to watch getting killed. That woman has to die. She has to die.

The golden glow of the scepter enveloped your body. The artifact was hot. It burned your palms. You were hot – that same devastating heat that cloistered around your heart came back. It burned as if you were thrown into the pit of a volcano.

The sun symbol was shining… but not nearly as bright as it did at the alley.

No.

This isn’t supposed to happen. What’s wrong?!

You kept reading, feeling despair mix with your hatred; the shine wasn’t enough to brighten the city, but it was enough to draw attention to you. Weren’t these the feelings that made the scepter awaken at that moment? Why was it acting different now?

The sun wasn’t shining that bright, but the burn in your heart didn’t ease. No, it was increasing. Not just your heart – soon, it felt that someone had thrown boiling oil over your skin. It burned burned burned burned burned; you wanted to drop that thing away, you wanted to scream in pain. Every muscle burned, every vein, every centimeter of your skin; it was unbearable, it was maddening, you couldn’t even hear your own thoughts anymore, you couldn’t keep your eyes open, your face distorted in a scowl of pain. Drop it! Throw it away! It hurts! IT HURTS!

“You will burn from inside out, ???.”

What?

Who said that?

You felt a hand touch your shoulder softly, but couldn’t open your eyes to see who it was.

Who– Who is it?

Who is it?

The sounds of the battle down there– all gone.

It is tranquil. A soft breeze caresses your face. The scepter burns your palms.

She doesn’t back away.

“You’re always too angry, ???.” She continues in a soothing voice. Her touch on your shoulder is featherlight. “This won’t get you anywhere. Breathe slowly.”

You inhale. You exhale.

“This ritual isn’t meant to kill; it does not go well with hatred. This ritual exists to protect the ones you love. If you let anger take the lead, it will consume you; it will burn you. Love does not burn. Love warms up.”

Your frown softened.

Your tense members too.

It exists to protect.

You brushed the memories of Erzsebet and Drolta aside. It was hard – they were mostly all you knew. But you decided to focus on something else.

Annette’s encouraging words. Her strength and her kindness.

The moments Richter fought to protect you, the way you felt some sort of odd affection towards him.

The three boys that gave you the lily that was still safely stored in the pocket of your vest. Henri, Jules and Charles, who bravely helped you get to the cathedral. All the men you helped yesterday, all of them getting ready to fight to protect their families, to help defeat a force much stronger than them.

And…

Him.

His serene smiles. His soft touches. The way he respected and cared for you from the moment you first met; the way he never looked down on you, always talked to you as an equal. The way he was always willing to make you feel better. The way he showed kindness through small gestures. The warmth of his hug.

And there was something else, too. At that moment, other faces flashed in your mind – faces your mind didn’t remember, but your heart did. One of these faces was of the little boy you saw on your dream and many more.

All of these moments, all of these faces – though they weren’t much, though the bad experiences were far more, were enough to overwhelm them. Were enough to comfort you in the midst of so much pain.

And then – you weren’t burning anymore.

You just felt... warm.

This warmth consumed you. It eased your mind, your spirit, your soul. It strengthened you. There was no pain anymore, no hatred; the warmth in your heart extended to every corner of your body, expanded to your entire consciousness.

All that existed was light.

All that existed was sun.

All that existed was… love.

No one saw it coming.

Erzsebet’s servants didn’t see it coming. The night creatures didn’t see it coming. The soldiers didn’t see it coming. Alucard didn’t see it coming.

Out of nowhere, the sky started to get clear.

The white-haired vampire looked up; the eclipse was still very much intact. So what the hell was happening?

Then – it hit him.

His eyes widened. Alucard flew to the top of the nearest ceiling and looked around–

He had time to see a small dot shining atop of Notre Dame, probably two kilometers away from where he was.

The small dot grew larger. Larger. That light got brighter – so bright that he had to protect his eyes; so bright that for a moment, the sky wasn’t crimson red anymore. Goosebumps roamed his skin. That… that was pure power.

And then, he heard the screams.

Yells of agony all around the city. The vampires tried to run, tried to hide – but most of them didn’t have time to react; as soon as light hit their bodies, they burned. They fell to their knees, hollering in excruciating pain, until there was nothing left of them but a pile of ashes. The human soldiers looked around, confused at why that light didn’t harm them, only their enemies.

A strange feeling tugged at Alucard’s heart.

But he heard another scream – a scream of pure hatred this time that slashed the air of Paris.

It was Drolta.

She was flying like a cannonball towards the cathedral.

Alucard wouldn’t let her.

He gripped his sword with both hands; red glow enveloped his body. He sprinted over the ceilings of Paris on a beeline, so fast that glass windows shattered after his passage.

He got to the top of Notre Dame faster than her, standing on top of the stone railing – putting himself between Ruby and Drolta.

The night creature had a completely insane expression, maddened by rage; Alucard, on the other hand, stared at her with controlled anger.

When she was just meters away, Alucard slashed the air with his sword in a wide swing.

It produced a red energy shockwave that hit Drolta in the stomach with the force of a thousand tons.

She was sent flying back all the way she came from; she hit one, two, three, four buildings, destroying everything on her way.

That would keep her quiet for a while.

Alucard released his sword for a second, keeping it floating near his body, and turned around.

His eyes widened in shock and… admiration.

Ruby was levitating in the air, holding the scepter in front of her body with both hands; she had her eyes closed in a serene expression, almost as if she was asleep. Her hair was loose, it swayed behind her figure. A golden aura enveloped her body, but it still looked different than what happened to Annette in a way.

She looked beautiful.

The shine of the scepter was diminishing. So was the aura around her. Slowly, she started to get closer to the ground again. Alucard jumped from the railing onto the balcony; he extended his arms and took her before she could hit the floor.

Alucard knelt down with her cradled in his arms.

He put the scepter aside; it slid from her grip easily. Her eyes were still closed. The white-haired vampire pressed his hand on her forehead and neck; she felt warm, but not nearly as hot as she was that moment at the alley. In fact… there was a strange healthy aspect to her face. Her right sleeve was stained with blood, though he couldn’t see any injury.

She ran all the way from the tailor shop to the cathedral? Did she remember something? How did she know she’d be able to do this?

Alucard had so many questions – but all of that was brushed aside when Ruby frowned slightly and groaned; immediate relief washed over his body. She is awake.

She opened her eyes.

At first, Ruby looked at the sky with half lidded eyes. Then, she looked at him – and didn’t have much of a reaction. It was as if a part of her wasn’t really there. It made Alucard wonder if she was still under some sort of trance…

For a moment, Alucard thought that she wasn’t recognizing him.

And it surprisingly made him feel scared.

But she left a soft groan again.

“Did it… work…?” Ruby asked groggily.

Alucard almost sighed in relief.

“Yes.”

She looked down for a moment and saw the red string tied around his right wrist. That seemed to bring back more memories; Ruby immediately got more agitated.

“I’m sor–“

“Don’t you dare.” He interrupted her softly, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare…”

Alucard wasn’t planning on it, the same way he didn’t plan to hug her back then. But he couldn’t help it. Sometimes, he had to let his annoying mortal heart speak louder than reason. And at that moment, when adrenaline still pumped through his system, he let himself be carried again; he brought her closer to him again, he rested his chin on the top of her head. He let himself feel relief and content that she was safe, she was warm, she was in his arms. She had somehow managed to overcome her fear. She had somehow managed to destroy more than half of Erzsebet’s army on her own.

And Alucard felt proud of this human he barely even knew that well.

The heart works in mysterious ways, after all.

He leaned away again and looked down at her. Perhaps… perhaps if she wasn’t clearly dazed, affected by whatever powerful magic she just had unleashed… if she was in her right mind… perhaps Alucard would’ve let himself be carried by his stupid mortal heart again. Perhaps he wouldn’t have fought against his will to press his lips on hers.

But the battlefield was no place for it.

That would be irrational and Alucard had to be rational regardless of how he felt for her.

Alucard heard steps fast approaching. From the door beside him, two young soldiers emerged. They were clearly exhausted, one of them bled from the shoulder. Their eyes widened.

“Sir!” The black-haired one – the one that wasn’t bleeding – saluted him. “We’ll take care of her!”

“Don’t worry, nothing will happen to her!” The ginger one said, even though a frown of pain was plastered over his face.

Alucard narrowed his eyes… oh. He recognized these two from yesterday. They were some of the soldiers that flocked around her like pigeons after bread crumbs. They didn’t seem ill-intended, at least, so Alucard would have to trust them.

The vampire helped Ruby to sit, keeping his arm behind her back while the soldiers also approached. Yes, she was definitely groggy; she almost looked a bit drunk. He’d worry about that later.

A terrible feeling settled in his gut.

Alucard got up and looked ahead. There was a massive beam of red energy concentrated in the opposite part of the city; it made shivers run down his spine. It was Sekhmet’s power, and it immediately made him worry for Annette and Richter.

He stepped over the railing again and took the sword in his hand. He’d sort everything else out later. Right now, there was still a battle to be won.

And Alucard would not fail.

#alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #castlevania netflix #alucard #alucard castlevania #adrian fahrenheit tepes #adrian tepes #alucard x you #castlevania x reader

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fawnsuga · 1 month ago

Text

Andrew Blaze's Reddit Account & Its Contents

The user u/PioneersProductions was active in the subreddit r/PioneersProductions between October 21 and October 29, 2013. At some point during this period, the subreddit was set to private, which restricts the visibility of comments to third-party tools. Consequently, we are unable to ascertain the specific context of many comments, though some can be reasonably inferred.

10/21/2013, 7:42:05 PM

Nothing can replace BlogTV... YouTube's the easiest fix, but they have it set where you have to stream from your computer now. My internet isn't fast enough to stream. =(

Andrew's initial comment expresses regret over the acquisition and subsequent shutdown of the live streaming service BlogTV, suggesting that she was an active user of the platform.

10/24/2013, 1:06:41 AM

Sweet, wow dude, I can't even remember the majority of these pics. That's insane. Especially the ones from before 2011.

This comment appears to be a response to someone sharing old photographs, possibly of Blaze herself, although this cannot be confirmed.

10/24/2013, 1:12:26 AM

Alligator/Horse Head was created using Paint.NET and Windows Movie Maker. Alligator/Horse Head 2 was made with Photoshop and iMovie. I had two different versions of it: one that was used in the trailer and the one used in the final cut. That Horse Head was difficult to crop out (even with Photoshop) due to the hair on its head. The Alligator was comparatively easy because it was solid wood. Additionally, I posted a video of myself sitting on the floor in my parents' bedroom against a wall, asking for script ideas, intending to feature those whose ideas I used. Ultimately, I did not utilize any of the suggestions. Given that I only had Movie Maker, my options were limited. I would love to recut that video, but it is impossible since the Horse Head has been reduced to ashes. I also lack a clean photograph of it. I wrote Alligator/Horse Head 2 during my senior year of high school in November and did not finalize the script until the following summer. I had numerous drafts for it. James was originally intended to appear physically in the video, but time constraints prevented this, as he had to relocate.

In this comment, Blaze elaborates on the process of creating the videos Mr. Horse Head Meets Mr. Wooden Alligator 1 and 2. These videos represent a crossover between Blaze's character and one created by YouTuber makemebad35.

10/24/2013, 1:16:24 AM

I also dislike how I edited the two videos. The first one was excessively brief, while the second one was constrained by Damian's preference for a shorter duration. Nowadays, I would likely have produced a 10- to 15-minute video; however, 8 minutes seemed adequate for him. He managed to complete his portions in just 5 hours. The only inconsistency in continuity is that he wears the same black shirt at the end, where he calls me to request the Alligator back, which was meant to occur days later. It is implausible that the Alligator could have shipped from Maryland to Pennsylvania and arrived at my doorstep within the same day. I have since become a more meticulous editor compared to two to three years ago. I prefer to extend shots, making them more "film-like" (slower-paced). However, we were concerned that viewers would not watch a 10-minute video in its entirety. I would recut the entire video, but my footage was never stored; I did not acquire a terabyte drive until last year, leaving only a few videos saved on a flash drive.

Four minutes after her previous comment, Andrew provides additional insights regarding the aforementioned videos. The individual named Damian referenced in the comment is makemebad35.

10/24/2013, 1:19:03 AM

I could discuss the Alligator/Horse Head videos indefinitely, which is why I have refrained from revisiting the second one. They were foundational to my YouTube career and led to Horse Head Lives, which will soon connect to my Halloween franchise. ;D

Three minutes later, Blaze concludes her comments on the subject by mentioning the video Mr. Horse Head Lives. I am uncertain what the Halloween franchise refers to, but my best guess is that it pertains to the Finale Series, the initial videos in which Ember appears.

10/29/2013, 9:16:14 PM

You... just... wow....

This remark represents Blaze's final comment on Reddit. The specific context of her expression of shock or surprise remains unclear.

for @strvy-bvllet

#tc community #tccblr #teeceecee #tcctwt #true cringe community #tcc tumblr #tcc fandom #fawnsuga #tee cee cee #truecrimecommunity #true crume #mass shooters #andrew blaze #randy stair

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kiwi-on-ice · 9 months ago

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can u do 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 lifeweaver x gn!reader ? i found u on tiktok and i loved ur lifeweaver slides!

Favourite positions headcannons with Lifeweaver, Cole Cassidy, Ramattra, Lucio, Genji and Reinhardt with gn!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: 18+ smut, reader is implied to have a pussy (or at least be a bottom lmao), dom/sub dynamics and degradation present in Ramattra’s.

Notes: just wanted to do a quick post to say thank you all so much for nearly 300 followers! I’m grateful for you all xx

Lifeweaver:

Oh this is a certified lover boy right here. Best believe he wants a position where he can see your face, where most of your body is exposed to his gaze.

That’s why missionary is always his go to, he’s able to thrust into you while keeping a hand on your cheek to ensure your pretty eyes are on him. So he can gaze down at you lovingly and watch your facial expression as you react to every movement.

It also gives him the ability to pinch and play with your nipples, smiling at the sounds that escape your throat as he lavishes you in praise.

But his absolute favourite thing to do in this position is fold you over yourself, knees pressed to your chin so he can slam into you in a mating press, letting you feel him all the way in your guts.

Because he’s so big, he dwarfs you and ensures all you can think about is him, all you can focus on is his cock thrusting in and out of you rapidly. Loves to kiss you in that position, mumbling against your hips how good you take him, how much he wants to fill you up with his cum for being so so good for him. But before he does that you’ll have to cum first.

Apart from that, any position where he has you in front of a mirror is perfect for him. He’ll set you on his lap so he can play and toy with your body, telling you intricate praises and compliments. If you’re a self conscious person, he’ll make you repeat them back to him while keeping your eyes on the mirror as he brings you over the edge again and again.

Alternatively, he might not even fuck you at all, perfectly content with you sitting on his face as he gives you the pleasure he knows you deserve.

Cole Cassidy:

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

He loves it if you ride him, the sight of you moving up and down on his lap. The sight of every angle of your body being on show for him to watch. The sight of his cock disappearing into your hole with every bounce.

Doesn’t care if it makes him look lazy, he’ll just lay back into the pillows, one hand stroking your hip while the other puffs the cigar in his mouth, occasionally offering it to you.

Now if you really want him to go feral, take his cowboy hat off and put it on yourself. You’ll feel him throb inside you as she growls, teasing you about it as he starts to thrust up inside you.

Now he’s an ass man, so when he isn’t gripping your ass while you ride him, he’s gripping and slapping your ass while he takes you from behind, another favourite of his.

Just loves to see it ripple with every thrust, and how you squeak or moan when he spanks you. Depending on the day he’s had, he’ll pump into you in methodical strokes while teasing you, or he’ll fuck into you hard and fast, chasing his pleasure.

Don’t be surprised if he’s puffing his cigar in that position too, the scent filling your nostrils before you even realised he’d lit it, too preoccupied by how deep he reaches as he forces your back to arch.

Ramattra:

Yeah he also likes doggy style, for more…dominating reasons.

Will love to push your head into the mattress, pounding into you while he mocks you for being so pathetic, so desperate to be filled that you’d let a dangerous omnic fuck you and toy with you just so you could find release.

He’d pull your hair, making your back arch for him as he railed you. Just loves to see how pliable your body is when he has you like this, and the noises that fall from your throat. Will also spank you to elicit similar noises, and best believe you’ll have a handprint on your ass to prove it.

And he could even pick you up in that position, moving you into a full nelson as your body jolts with each punishing thrust upwards.

Alternatively, he likes fucking you against the wall. Displays his sheer strength as he can just manhandle you to a position of his liking, you legs dangling pathetically as he has his way with you.

Although he loves fucking you while you’re facing him in that position, your legs wrapped around his waist as he holds you steady against the wall with his hands on your hips and ass. He won’t want to admit it, but it makes his internal fans whirl louder when he sees you face in ecstasy as you gaze up at him longingly.

However if you’ve been a brat, then you clearly don’t deserve the cock he graciously had fitted just to please you, so he’ll love to watch you hump his leg instead as he sits proud in his chair, legs spread. If you please him enough he might let you sit on his lap and hump his thigh instead. And if you please him just right, if your begs and grovelling are to his satisfaction, he may even let you sink down on him and ride him till he short circuits.

Lucio:

My sweet baby, he’s such a romantic!!! His favourite would definitely be missionary, you guys are just so close like that.

He’ll be holding your hand like a lifeline, gentle and measured strokes inside you as he rests his forehead against yours. Would love to feel all your little gasps against his lips, feeling your chests so close, his thumb soothingly running over the back of your hand. He’s always got you <3

However every man has needs, and Lucio is no different. So if you ask to ride him, he definitely isn’t gonna say no. It’ll be the positon he’s the most vocal in for sure, whines and grunts tumbling out his lips as you use his dick to get off.

He’ll be grabbing everywhere and anywhere, needing to feel useful as you make his eyes roll back with pleasure. Grabbing handfuls of your ass or hips or chest or thighs. Anywhere.

If you hold his hands in this position his hips will twitch, breath shaky as he pleads with you to let him fuck up into you. The whines will just tumble from his mouth, the grip on your hands tight, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

Alternatively, if you’re wearing shorts…please let him hit it from the back. His favourite if you’re having a quickie before his show, pushing into you fast as you bend over his dressing table and present yourself for him. Or even against the door if you’re brave enough, both of you struggling to be quiet as his manager knocks on the wood and tells your boyfriend he’s due on stage in 5 minutes.

Genji:

Another man who loves you riding him. After becoming mostly cybernetic, he’s hyper aware of his own strength, as well as the way he looks now. You being on top allows him to peace of mind that he isn’t gonna accidentally hurt you, or crush you.

But also my god he loves watching the show. The way your hips move and circle to get the most pleasure, your hand gripping at his metal chest to steady yourself, the look on your face as the sensations build and build inside of you. He’ll instinctively go to hold your hips, perhaps accidentally holding that bit too tight so it leaves bruises.

But that position is perfect for praising him, telling him how good he feels, how beautiful you think he is. That’ll really make him whimper, audible over the soft plap of your thighs against him. Instinctively he’ll buck up at the praise, driving his cock deep inside you as he whines in embarrassment and pleasure at your complimentary words.

Hold his hands too, regardless of position he’d like for you to hold on to his hand or arms, makes him feel like you trust him, that you look to him for a source of comfort and security. He might even place something cozy and fuzzy on so you have a gentle fabric to hold.

Reinhardt:

Missionary, a classic position for a classic man. Loves how small you look under him, how his big arms practically dwarf your head as he braces himself above you. Sure he’s no spring chicken anymore, but he can still fuck you the way a pretty thing like you deserve.

And if you teasingly imply he can’t fuck you for too long, or suggest you can get on top instead? Well, that’s pretty much the only time his gentlemanly facade will crack, as he drives into you at a pace most young men wouldn’t dream of; his big cock filling you up so completely that your eyes will be rolling.

But most times he’s the epitome of a gentle giant, gently kissing you as he rocks slowly in and out of your smaller body, his beard gently tickling your neck and shoulder as he leaves small love bites on your skin.

But listen, if you’re with him you’re gonna most likely have a thing for his size and strength. So he will definitely pick you up while you guys are fucking if that’s what his sweetheart wants. With a firm grip on your hips he’ll encourage you to wrap your thighs around him so he can fuck you against the wall, your head against his scarred chest.

In that position, you’ll hear the rumbling in his chest as he moans, telling you how good you are, how stunning you are in his arms; it’s like you belong there. And if you’re fucking him after a mission, he’ll ramble about how he’s always gonna protect you, that it’s his duty to keep you safe and content as you cum around his big cock.

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ranticore · 6 months ago

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some more horse guy fashions, specifically historical

erased the mandolin for this one goodbye mandolin i couldn't be bothered drawing you

so my thought process for this is like what would a society of, lbr, british ppl who are horses value and how would that translate into what they wear if they specifically don't have a taboo against nudity. these fashions are pre-florian conversion (florian was the guy who gave them all government-mandated shame) and considered traditional (the full coverage dresses are also traditional but to a post-florian period so those would be called like. idk. classical). they were still in use in the enclaves north of ironwall for quite a while. anyway returning to the point, the answer to 'what they value' is movement. in actual horses, herd hierarchy and social function is based off movement - free movement for animals for whom the flight response is so strong is an incredibly important thing. dominance in horses is expressed and reinforced by controlling and curtailing the movement of subordinates. for these people, free movement was enhanced by kinetic fashion - free-flowing garments like capes, loosely-pinned headgear with feathers and floaty cloth, and noise-generating devices like bells and chimes were all used to elaborate and enhance the appearance of somebody's gait. the overall look was mostly based off of morris dancers (pheasant feathers, bells on the legs, handkerchiefs) because i like the tie-in to suppression of folk dance by puritans. i think these guys would have some great folk dances

in much the same way trainers are just normal everyday footwear now, game kerchiefs/flags were worn in non-sports contexts because it suffused into the mainstream and became Cool. the flags were used in a game similar to tag rugby if you've ever seen that played (where snatching people's flags is used instead of full contact tackling, forcing someone who's been 'tagged' to stand still until the flags are returned). as i said before somewhere, centaur team sports go incredibly hard.

the tail ornaments were status symbols and in appearance a bit like the traditional show turnout of shire horses. woven grass and straw could be used for a temporary ornament like these, but metal or carved wood were really impressive, and very common gifts of favour between romantic partners. more flags could be hung there if you wanted to be really cool

variations of this style of mane décor were also employed (they loved their ribbons)

in the same time period, Ironwall fashion was a little bit different. These expensive caparisons were usually purchased secondhand after a real horse was done wearing them, with distinct front and back halves of different length. The garments would usually have the original liveries removed and replaced by generic religious iconography as few centaurs would ever have their own heraldry. Later, in the Georgian and Victorian eras, full coverage to the pasterns with a single undergarment was the only acceptable option (that's the classical style now) The rest of the picture is self-evident, but centaurs at the time wore additional... equipment on the withers which were called a variety of very colourful names but mostly referred to as gelding bars (as in, they will geld you if you sit on them). they were metal and spiked. these were introduced by the florian government to discourage the grossly inappropriate contact of one person's legs around another. previously there was no great taboo against riding on a centaur's back, it wasn't super common but nobody was like "this is basically public sex" until our pal centaur cromwell i mean florian came along and decided this was the work of the devil. young people were also made to wear these to discourage the homosocial behaviour very common to the mid-20s age groups of both sexes, and they also had a place in preventing stallions from wrestling (ironically increasing the danger of their fights because well now all we can do is stand back and kick). the wearing of these devices was mandatory. headcoverings were not strictly necessary, and neither were fully-wrapped tails, but some especially devout citizens took to it quite well.

#long fucking post. well too bad #in case it wasn't like super obvious. the country ironwall is set in is Basically Just Britain #having a blast with placeholder guy. go king. i think this is actually his time period #his proportions are very different to like pascals or whoever because he's only 13hh #ironwall

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edges-of-night · 9 months ago

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Hii! <3

I wanted to request imagines for reader taking care of the lotr characters (preferably all, but if that’s too much then at least the women and maybe Aragorn and Faramir too) when they’re sick/injured for whatever reason

(I love your imagines so much, the way you characterize them all is so perfectly amazing💜)

Thank you for your kind words! I did all of my usual characters because I love hurt/comfort and sick!fic scenarios that much haha! I hope you will enjoy your post ♡

Have a great weekend everybody!

CW: injuries and illnesses, mention of blood

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

While Aragorn’s heroic sacrifice didn’t cost him his life, it took a heavy toll on him. Lucky for him, you’ve spoken often enough about medicinal herbs and healing practices – you are able to take great care of him, bedded on his white linens. Even when he is still too weak to speak, Aragorn will hold your gentle hand.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

You return so often to Arwen’s bedside that you wonder if it would be easier to just stay – but you know that privacy and rest are just as important as her wish to hold your hand. Whenever you’re with her, you tend to her wounds or read her passages from her favourite book to make her smile, which Arwen appreciates immensely. As she rests, she plans on properly kissing you as soon as she’s healthy.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir hates that a common cold has him chained to the bed for over a week now. But he’d lie if he said he didn’t enjoy you taking care of him – even though you do tease him and his constantly red nose from time to time. It’s all in good fun though, and he cannot wait to hold and kiss you again!

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

When Lord Elrond returned to Rivendell injured, your heart skipped a beat – he is the most skilled Elvish healer around – who else could treat the gaping, magical wound in his side? The honour is bestowed on you, and you master it despite your nervous mind. Nothing is greater encouragement than finally seeing Elrond’s summer eyes greet you again ♡

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

The Rohirrim have all kinds of names for the strange fever that has befallen their dear Éomer – but no methods of healing. They consider it an impossible challenge for you to tame his feverish, sweaty body and nonsense mumblings. But, somehow, the horse lord calms whenever you reach his bedside, sighing when you change the wet cloths on his forehead and rest your hand on his chest.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Initially, Éowyn thinks nothing of the cut she got during sword lessons. But days of ignoring the wound on her hand could put her in grave danger, you know that – and thus offer to take a look and do what you can. At first, Éowyn protests, but she falls silent as soon as you turn her hand in yours, unaware of how soft her expression grows… She admires your medical knowledge, too! “Is there at all something you cannot do, you marvellous creature?”

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

It takes days for Faramir to wake up. Many others believe him doomed and have given up on sitting by his side, trying new herbs and waters, only to see his crystal blue eyes open once more. But you have the matter-of-factly patience of a boat pushing its way through a deadly ocean. And indeed, on a moonlit night, Faramir’s gentle gaze awaits when you return to his side, whispering, “Thank you for believing in me, my love.”

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Sometimes you wonder if you are the only person to have consideration for both the physical and the mental wounds Frodo has endured. You always make sure he’s fine and support him when thoughts of the big scar on his chest sends him to dark places inside his mind. You both know that those wounds take much more time to heal than the cut itself, and Frodo is more than glad to have you by his side. To soothe him, you caress the scar.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Ever since a mysterious malady has befallen Lady Galadriel, Lothlórien is in turmoil. No one would even let you near her – until she ordered her guards away, to allow you to treat her with your medical and arcane knowledge. In fact, you become the only one she wishes to see in her elegant rooms at all. Despite her current weakness, her ethereal beauty and soft smiles make it hard for you to concentrate…

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Out of breath, you hurry to Gandalf’s beside with that one legendary flower needed to cure him. He insists you be the one to prepare the potion, too. Day and night, you try to perfect his medicine, always worried his state might get worse. When Gandalf finally drinks your potion, the wound on his chest closes magically. But it’s nothing to Gandalf, who has trusted you entirely: “I never doubted you for a moment, my dear.”

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

After Gimli’s accident in the mine, you were right by his side to ensure his head injury wouldn’t get much worse. His headache is hurting badly though, and your proud Dwarf is but a shadow of himself. He knows rest would be best for him, but it’s hard for him to stay away from work and banquets alike. Still, he appreciates that you pamper him with his favourite baked goods and healing kisses on his head ♡

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir is not an easy patient, but that doesn’t stop you from treating his catastrophic shoulder, which he has ignored for days on his way through the woods of Lórien. Spread onto linen sheets beneath you, he grunts and cringes – as much as his half-dead stone face can, that is – under both your touch and your harsh words. But deep down, he knows you were simply worried – and honestly, he doesn’t quite know how to deal with that!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

It seemed inevitable that Legolas would someday break a leg because of his acrobatic archery skills, and yet you are surprised. Elves heal quickly, but Legolas suffers greatly under his involuntary immobility. You help him by recounting his favourite quest stories and eventually by supporting his first tentative steps outside, which he thanks you for with the stormiest embraces ♡

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry thinks he can walk of anything – even an injured knee. He doesn’t want you to think of him as weak or unable to take care of himself. But even Merry can only play down a limp for so long. Truth be told, he is actually relieved that he no longer has to hide the pain, and that you spreading balm on his knee is no ordeal but in fact a very sweet gesture.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin has been sneezing and stumbling for days, eventually falling into bed with the biggest groan you have ever heard come out of him. He is a ��suffering” patient and you know it. But while Pippin greatly enjoys you pampering him with food, tea and blankets, he secretly cannot wait to take care of you in return – no matter if you’re sick or not! “It’s you’re not actually sick, or else I couldn’ave kissed you!”

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Gardening involves many dangers, and although Sam has been practising it since childhood, he eventually hurts himself on his gardening knife. The cut is deep and won’t stop bleeding, but you are quick to bandage it and remind him to change the fabric once a day. But Sam has trouble keeping his thoughts straight, when all he can think about is you holding his hand in yours, all close…

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blueberrypancakesworld · 8 months ago

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The fathers of Rome

Marcus/Geta/Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : fluff, comfort, crying, kissing a bit emotional, birth, family issues, written before the movie came out characters may be different

Summary : Two Emperors and the general of the army all had important duties and responsibilities but by the grace of the gods and with devotion of love the three most influential men find themselves with the news of a pregnant wife. Each of them has a slightly different approach to taking care of his pregnant wife and the birth, because a birth could always go wrong and the gods were rarely merciful.

info : I wanted to write something sweet for the three of them and I know that they could be good fathers (if you romanticize a little bit) now have fun reading and have a nice day.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus Acacius

It was thought that the battlefield was his home and the sword was his wife but few knew that in a vast field of olive trees and wheat fields stood a large villa in which a woman lived with a small household and prayed between her altars to the gods that her beloved husband would return home safely.

A story of a leader of the army of Rome and his wife a former oracle who met him, foretold him his future yet his eyes, his voice and his being would not depart from her own prophecies.

An initial love of safety in times of peace, she appreciated his protective nature in a world that belonged almost entirely to Rome, danger still lurked everywhere. He, in turn, was captured by her grace and care, this devotion to those in need or to himself when she waited on him to heal his wounds and the two felt safe and complete together.

A husband who rushed home on horseback so fast he rode to her from the support posts when the emperors called him back the sleep was won she saw the shadow on the horizon from the balcony and even mounted her horse to meet him, ,,My heart" he embraced her each time still seeing the dirt and emaciation on him after being away for months sometimes years.

His hands closed around her, an embrace, a heartfelt kiss, tears in her eyes when she finally saw him again before they rode back to the villa together, she helped him bathe and wash her before he pulled her into the water himself, not wanting to leave her side and unable to do so for too long, he had missed her, not only her lovely eyes, her voice that he loved to listen to, her hair that he ran through and her hands that he clasped every time he wanted to be close to her but couldn't in public.

But with such intimacy comes love and with love comes desire, desire for each other, desire for each other's bodies and this desire was pursued many nights and on some bright days they were also close until he had to leave again, for the next raid not knowing that only two months after he was gone he received a letter with scrawled writing full of excitement.

A letter that moved him to tears when he read it for the first time, ,,I'm going…to be a father" he mumbled to himself in his tent above and above he realized that love for each other would grow into a life, a little baby that would look like both of them and a big smile stayed on his lips as he hurriedly wrote back to her expressing his joy and his heart, how excited he was himself, how proud he was of her and how much he loved her and praying to the gods that the battle would be won quickly.

The letters changed from weekly to daily as her pregnancy progressed and he received drawings of what she looked like, along with dried flowers she was growing that were made into tea and tinctures to help her body.

The couple were happy with words, kisses seemed to spread across the infinity and she was sent a piece of clothing by Marcus and remembered that he would return to her and their child.

Everything went well until he received the letter that she would go into labor in the next few days, the war took longer than expected, but it was the first and only time he gave his sergeant the lead and started the journey back on his own responsibility, which would take several days, but he had to go to her the fear and worry that something could go wrong that he would lose her or that the child was not healthy.

Fear and worry clutched at his heart as he drove his horse faster and faster as fast as he could back home where he burst through the front door and heard the screams of pain that scared him to death calling her name, he hurried up the stairs to the shared bedroom where he found her crouching by the bed, apparently lying down would lead to complications.

,,Love I'm-I'm here everything will be fine" he murmured hastily pressing kisses on her hand which she immediately grasped painfully and screamed again as she tried to get their child out of her, he could still see the love for him in her tear-stained eyes on her sweat-smeared body they were both covered in blood from the death of the battlefield and the birth of new life as she continued to push and the midwife helped her too.

She screamed out his name her pain and Marcus became more and more afraid of losing her with every pain she had as she continued to hold her giving her courage and hope when his own hands trembled as he heard the ,,I can see the head my lady keep pushing" from the midwife who did everything she could to make the birth as easy as possible.

,,You can do it my heart I'm here push again" he whispered to her as she looked at him in pain he saw the fear and yet the deniability that he was with her before she let out one last scream and he heard a bright scream next to blood splattering on the floor, a bright scream that echoed and seemed never to stop.

,,Congratulations, a healthy baby boy!" the older woman announced, dabbing the newborn baby lightly before wrapping him in linen so he could be held better, while Marcus helped his wife back onto the bed, covering her lightly and giving her a long kiss, ,,I am so very proud my darling," he whispered placing a kiss on her head, before taking his son in his arms, those light, dark hairs on the delicate head belonging to him but the pretty eyes were hers.

His eyes filled with tears of pride and reassurance as he stroked his son and gave her the little bundle she clutched, ,,A piece of love from both of us," she uttered, crying with happiness as she looked into her son's curious face and he chuckled at her as the two parents spent the next few hours together on the bed with pure happiness as the little baby went from laughing with gurgling laughter, to crying and finally falling asleep exhausted in the equally exhausted arms of his parents.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Geta

The younger but stronger emperor of Rome, the warrior and leader who did not subordinate himself and enjoyed the Coloseum. A young man whose golden lure was not the only thing that seemed to be gold, he bought and made whatever he wanted, be it new armor, a sword, an army or even slaves that he could kill or do anything else with.

But in his life, his only blood besides his older brother Caracalla, there was only one marriage predestined by his father that he should marry her.

Pretty, coming from wealth and power but not a woman he had chosen, it was like fate, his father had decided like a god on the life of his son but it had been like that for some time now and as much as the couple was celebrated in public, the false smiles and hand-holding of the inner circle was seen through, they were both torn.

As much as they tried to understand each other and she appreciated his gift of attention to Rome, as much as he thought she was pretty and appreciated her patience as a true virtue, they never seemed to be in the same mood. There never seemed to have been a thread of fate.

,,Can love ever arise from a loveless duty?" she had once asked him when he wanted to retire in the evenings, avoiding her to occupy himself with his important things that his older brother wasn't interested in and always finding an excuse to avoid her.

She saw the guilt disappear from his eyes in the blink of an eye, saw him straighten the rings on his fingers before he replied with a ,,Love comes from the heart… a duty from the words of others" before he left her room and avoided her for another night, a night that followed one after the other until one day they attended his brother's wedding, Caracalla also married a highborn woman and gave the Roman Empire its first heir, as it should be - it was all just a matter of time.

A fact that Geta also knew, even if with a smile his bright eyes wished nothing but death for his sister-in-law, a plague that she and his brother would have to endure,

,,I want to see you in my chamber after the feast and that is not a question" he murmured to his wife who looked at him with an uneasy look, she had seen the looks, knew what was going on in her husband and yet in a horrible fate she felt the duty in her heart she had to bear him an heir.

The festivities dragged on for a long time, but with wine that overwhelmed her senses she distracted herself from what was going to happen, what he was going to do just because his place in the order of precedence would be changed, she followed his words, made a simple excuse and retired to her husband's room.

She had also heard the wine on his lips as that night began with a kiss, senses dazed by wine and yet there was still a kind of tenderness in his touch despite his hatred, she still held him close to her heart, something she clung to as hope.

A hope and love a lust she would not have expected from him overcame the nights of nights she saw for the first time his jealousy coupled with love,.

,,I know you are trying my love" he told her again and again his hand placed on her tree day after day she seemed to realize if she was pregnant until the day one of the midwives and his healer confirmed she was pregnant and a few tests brought the uncertainty to an end.

She still couldn't believe it was true, she felt his arms around her body and words of praise but double-edged words coming at her as Geta looked at her with a look that told her he had never felt more love for her than now, ,,My Empress pregnant with my heir" he murmured and immediately let the news spread everywhere rubbing it straight into the face of his brother and especially his sister-in-law who was not yet pregnant.

The time after that was filled with happiness and yet paranoia, he was only more attached to her, paying attention to everything and having the room for the child decorated with her taste, choosing the furniture and the colors, ,,The room of the future emperor," he announced to her as she leaned on him and saw the room with pictures of heroic deeds and old legends showing victories.

,,A truly impressive room," she admitted and felt her hands relax on her now round belly as time passed, the moons and suns came quickly and her pregnancy increased, the closer she got to the birth the more excited Geta seemed to become, insisting on being present the whole time…an insistence she kept, only a few moons later her contractions came and the palace was filled with screams and weeping.

Geta shouted at the midwives and healers to kill them all or he would kill them personally while he supported his wife with words and did not flinch when her bloodied hand reached for him, ,,You are doing very well I am with you dear, with our son you will make it" he told her again and again kissing her forehead and giving her hopeful kisses until he shouted more death threats until the news came that it was almost done.

The last screams were full of pain and she clung to him even more, the pain increasing with the thought that had plagued her for months and her heart stopped when she heard the voice of the midwife saying ,,My emperor it's a…girl" and the room slowly fell silent, only the shrill cry of the baby could be heard, a baby without the right sex, a girl no heir.

Her heavy breathing and the tears rolling down her cheeks as he pulled away from her with a jerk, she was supported by her midwives who helped her onto the bed and took care of her as best they could while she watched Geta take her daughter in his arms and turn his back on her, not seeing how he looked with this "disappointing" birth.

,,Everyone out now!" he shouted making the little baby cry again and yet everyone complied, ,,Geta I'm-I'm sorry" she started trying to get to him when she heard a sniffle and paused, at first she thought it was the baby but it giggled and a clearing of the throat was heard before he turned to her.

Her worry vanished when she saw his expression it was pride, it was appreciation it was happiness, ,,The future of the empire an empress from the love of her parents…she will become a goddess" he murmured and came to his wife in bed put the baby in her arms and gave the little girl a kiss on the head while he held his wife's hand and gently stroked it.

He was not disappointed he had gotten something so much better, he had gotten love and a wife who was everything to him a family of his own the only imperial family of ancient Rome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Caracalla

The elder son, the first emperor to rule with his younger but much more suitable brother, a pair of brothers who ruled together and brought Rome to the top of the world with its army and its strength, but above all a young man with a woman at his side.

A woman, the Empress of Rome, beautiful, handsome and caring, popular with the people and not underestimated in politics because of her own country of origin and family…but a young woman without children.

A woman without children from an age when she would not be empress she would take other jobs nor have a choice but an empress was not a politician, a warrior or even a farmer an empress was and should always be a mother first so it has always been but not with her.

The wedding was moons ago and even if it was a little difficult at first their hearts were close she loved her playful husband who was always loving to her and had a penchant for entertainment of any kind.

As long as Carcalla wasn't bored, he knew that his brother was concerned with everything else, including politics, for which he had little taste when it wasn't a matter of attack or execution, she could only entertain him by acting, playing or playing in the arena, and as much as they both enjoyed it, she became more unhappy.

,,Your smile is fading, don't you like it? I can hire a new actor or buy new slaves right away," the blonde immediately offered and waved the troupe out so he could talk to his wife who had been laughing all evening, her hand detached from her belly and handed him the parchment he had skimmed over in the morning.

A parchment with the emperor's seal, a message from his brother that Geta had taken a wife of his own on a state visit, ,,The betrothal and wedding, what's with that, starlet?" he asked, tossing the paper carelessly aside before rising and going to the table of fruit and helping himself to the grapes.

He didn't understand the seriousness, the worry or even what it meant for the future, not that they hadn't slept together often, the wedding night had been consummated and they had often shared the bed but it had never led to anything, she rose from her chair and went to him, taking his hand and seeking his gaze.

,,Cara. ..you're still the older one, a duty is on me and I don't know if I can ever give you…an heir" she said the lump in her throat almost cutting off her voice hoping he would understand.

She saw the humor fade from his face and he considered before he gave an almost stunned expression and grabbed both her hands hastily, squeezing them and locking them in a hasty kiss over and over until she broke away to catch her breath, ,,Please I-it may well be me…all this he may be the politician but I am the elder, the first and you do your duty every day you are with me.

,,I leave no room for doubt, do you understand?" he demanded and she found his hopefulness, confidence and euphoria truly inspiring that a small smile crept onto her lips before he took her in his arms the imperial couple found themselves together again that night, taking help from potions, tinctures and many other forbidden practices that they hardly left the bedchamber together for the next few days.

It was clear to everyone what was happening behind the closed doors but after trying and trying this hope was to pay off with her first discomfort and the first change, ,,Congratulations my Emperor you are finally pregnant" the healer announced as he listened to the results of the test and her report, her tears wetting the tunic of her husband who hugged her and twirled around and was all the more pleased.

The news also pleased the people and even when she saw the looks on Geta's face and his wife she knew she had done her duty she would give Rome an heir, she had not disappointed Caracalla, ,,You can never let me down everything will go well the gods are with us" he told her reading she put up stowage in the child's room and her own for the next moons so that she was protected and the child inside her.

The protection seemed to help Geta until a point, and everything seemed to go well until the day of the birth, when blood and tears covered the floor, ,,What's wrong with my wife?" Caracalla who was holding her hand on the bed but the dagger at his side seemed to slaughter anyone who did anything wrong.

He kissed her hands and fingers, tried to cool her forehead with cool cloths and tell her again that she was doing well, ,,It seems that the Empress is pregnant with twins," said one of the midwives who had already brought out the size of the belly and the prolonged birth.

It was news she needed to cry out and Caracalla was filled with joy which he only showed when she continued to scream and push with the help of Caracalla who got into a kneeling position and the moments of pain merged until the first child was pushed out, ,,A boy!" the midwife shouted and took care of the little creature while the younger one continued to hold on to her husband.

The blonde gave her a proud kiss on the head, ,,Do you hear that? Our son love you can do it I am here" he murmured over and over until another cry from her side and a second bright cry told them that it was done that night a boy and his sister were born, Caracalla proudly and happily held the little babies and immediately spoke to them while praising them over and over.

The little family was not only complete but was now a little conversation of their own for each other, they had brought themselves together through love and received two sweet little gifts because they believed that their love was stronger than anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@morallyinept

@parvanovel -> I konw pregnancy is one thing but it's fluff so have fun :)

@sweetpascal

#gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #emperor caracalla #emperor caracalla x reader #reader is female #male x female

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creamtese · 9 months ago

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Demons and Stigmas

I made a reddit post about this, and thought I should post it on tumblr too for easier reading!

I wanted to make a post about all the stigmas and demons that we know so far. The names are all anagrams of Ars Goetia demons, and some of them have similar powers to the demon or have potential motives to summon said demon. With that, we can possibly predict what some of the stigmas do that we only have a name for, as well as what might have been their motivation for summoning their demon.

I've taken some information from the Ars Goetia wikipedia page, and bolded some things that I thought are noteworthy.

Frostheim

Kamurai Jin, Bianerus.

Bianerus is an anagram of Naberius

Jin can command people to do as he says with his stigma

The demon Naberius (also Naberus, Nebiros and Cerberus, Cerbere) was first mentioned by Johann Weyer in 1583. He is supposedly the most valiant Marquis of Hell, and has nineteen legions of demons under his command. He makes men cunning in all arts, but especially in rhetoric, speaking with a hoarse voice. He also restores lost dignities and honors, although to Johann Weyer he procures the loss of them. Naberius appears as a three-headed dog or a raven. He has a raucous voice but presents himself as eloquent and amiable. He teaches the art of gracious living. He is depicted as a crow or a black crane. Concerning his name, it is unclear if there is an association with the Greek Cerberus. It is said that in 1583, Johann Weyer considers both of them to be the same demon.

Ishibashi Tohma, Argeas.

Argeas is an anagram of Agares

Tohma's stigma lets him send vibrations long distance.

Agares (or Agreas), ruling the eastern zone of Hell, and being served by 31 legions of demons. He can make runaways come back and those who stand still run, finding pleasure in teaching immoral expressions. He also has the power to destroy dignities, both temporal and supernatural. He is depicted as a pale old man riding a crocodile.

Lucas Errant, Iggnaim.

Iggnaim is an anagram of Gamigin

Lucas has a barrier

Gamigin (also Gamygin, Gamigm or Samigina) is a Great Marquis of Hell who rules over thirty legions of demons. He teaches all liberal sciences and gives an account of the souls of those who died in sin and who drowned in the sea, speaking with a rough voice. He also answers what is asked about, and stays with the conjurer until they are satisfied. Gamigin is depicted as a little horse or a donkey, which changes form into a man under the conjurer's request.

Fuji Kaito, ???

No stigma name currently, but we have an idea of what his powers may be from something Hyde has said.

Vagastrom

Mido Alan, Yagsal Olbalsa

Yagsal Olbalsa is an anagram of Glasya-Labolas

It's never been explicitly said, but it seems to be some sort of super strength

Glasya-Labolas (also Caacrinolaas, Caassimolar, Classyalabolas, Glassia-labolis, Glasya Labolas, Gaylos-Lobos) is a mighty President of Hell who commands thirty-six legions of demons. He is the author and captain of manslaughter and bloodshed, tells all things past and to come, gains the minds and love of friends and foes causing love among them if desired, incites homicides and can make a man invisible. He is depicted as a dog with the wings of a griffin.

Kurosagi Leo, Haxs

Haxs is an anagram of Shax

Leo's stigma allows him to have enhanced hearing

Shax (also spelled Chax, Shan, Shass, Shaz, and Scox) is a Great Marquis of Hell, and has power over 30 legions of demons on evil horses. He takes away the sight, hearing and understanding of any person under the conjurer's request, and steals money out of kings' houses, carrying it back to the people. He also steals horses and everything the conjurer asks. Shax can also discover hidden things if they are not kept by evil spirits, and sometimes gives good familiars, but sometimes those familiars deceive the conjurer. He should not be bothered too often. Shax is thought to be faithful and obedient, but is a great liar and will deceive the conjurer unless obliged to enter a magic triangle drawn on the floor. He will then speak marvellously and tell the truth. He knows when lies are told and uses these to teach lessons. He is depicted as a stork that speaks with a hoarse but subtle voice; his voice changes into a beautiful one once he enters the magic triangle.

Haizono Shohei, Spurno

Spurno is an anagram of Purson

We don't have an explicit answer for what it does yet, but he was able to trip? throw back? the anomaly in episode 2

Purson (also Curson, Pursan) is a Great King of Hell, being served and obeyed by twenty-two legions of demons. He knows of hidden things, can find treasures, and tells past, present and future. Taking a human or aerial body he answers truly of all secret and divine things of Earth and the creation of the world. He also brings good familiars. Purson is depicted as a man with the face of a lion, carrying a ferocious viper in his hand, and riding a bear. Before him, there can be heard many trumpets sounding.

Jabberwock

Sagara Haru, Bahnti

Bahnti = Bathin

Haru's stigma reduces the affect of gravity on his body

Bathin (or Bathym, Mathim, Marthim) is a Duke (Great Duke according to Pseudomonarchia Daemonum) of Hell, who has under his command thirty legions of demons. He knows the virtues of precious stones and herbs, and can bring men suddenly from one country to another. He helps one attain astral projection, and takes you wherever you want to go. He is depicted as a strong man with the tail of a serpent, riding a pale horse.

Otonashi Towa, ???

Another one we aren't really sure of

Shiranami Ren, Raothtas

Raothtas = Astaroth

We don't have an explicit answer as to what his stigma does, but he was able to remove ink stains from the floor

Astaroth (also Ashtaroth, Astarot and Asteroth) is referred to in The Lesser Key of Solomon as a very powerful demon who commands 40 legions of demons. In art, in the Dictionnaire Infernal, Astaroth is depicted as a nude man with feathered wings, wearing a crown, holding a serpent in one hand, and riding a beast with dragon-like wings and a serpent-like tail. According to Sebastien Michaelis he is a demon of the First Hierarchy, who seduces by means of laziness, vanity, and rationalized philosophies. His adversary is St. Bartholomew, who can protect against him for he has resisted Astaroth's temptations. To others, he teaches mathematical sciences and handicrafts, can make men invisible and lead them to hidden treasures, and answers every question formulated to him. He was also said to give to mortal beings the power over serpents. His name is possibly taken from the goddess Asherah or Astarte.

Sinostra

Hoshibami Taiga, Malab

Malab = Balam

All we know is that he has good luck

Balam (also Balaam, Balan) is a great and powerful king of Hell who commands over forty legions of demons. He gives perfect answers on things past, present, and to come, and can also make men invisible and witty. Balam is depicted as being three-headed. One head is the head of a bull, the second of a man, and the third of a ram. He has flaming eyes and the tail of a serpent. He carries a hawk on his fist and rides a strong bear. At other times, he is represented as a naked man riding a bear.

Romeo Lucci, Tiris

Tiris = Sitri

He can turn things into bombs

Sitri (also spelled Bitru, Sytry) is a Great Prince of Hell, and reigns over sixty legions of demons. He causes men to love women and vice versa, and can make people bare themselves naked if desired. He is depicted with the face of a leopard and the wings of a griffin, but under the conjurer's request he changes into a very beautiful man.

Shinjo Ritsu, Acimo

Acimo = Camio

Ritsu's stigma lets him harden his body, to the point bullets cannot damage him

Camio (also Caim, Caym) appears in Ars Goetia, the first part of The Lesser Key of Solomon as a Great President of Hell, ruling over thirty legions of demons. Much detail is offered: he is a good disputer, gives men the understanding of the voices of birds, bullocks, dogs, and other creatures, and of the noise of the waters too, and gives true answers concerning things to come. He is depicted in 19th and 20th century occultist illustrations as appearing in the form of the black bird called a thrush, but soon he changes his shape into a man that has a sharp sword in his hand. When answering questions he seems to stand on burning ashes or coals.

Hotarubi

Kagami Subaru, Talnandio

Talnandio = Dantalion

Psychometry

Dantalion (or Dantalian) is a powerful Great Duke of Hell, with thirty-six legions of demons under his command; he is the 71st of 72 spirits of Solomon. He teaches all arts and sciences, and also declares the secret counsel of anyone, given that he knows the thoughts of all people and can change them at his will. He can also cause love and show the similitude of any person, show the same by means of a vision, and let them be in any part of the world they will. He is depicted as a man with many appearances, which means the faces of all men and women.

Kusanagi Haku, ???

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Kotodama Zenji, ???

ahhhh eto...bwehhhhh

Obscuary

Edward Hart, ???

thanks old man!

Mizuki Rui, ???

I don't recall him saying his stigma, but he's able to relieve pain and exhaustion temporarily.

Lyca Colt, Ramsochisa

Ramsochisa = Marchosias

He can follow the scent of anything, so long as he's smelled it before

Marchosias (also Marchocias) is a powerful Great Marquis of Hell, commanding thirty legions of demons. He is a strong and excellent fighter and very reliable to the conjurer, giving true answers to all questions. Marchosias hoped after 1,200 years to return to heaven with the non-fallen angels, but he is deceived in that hope. He is depicted as a wolf with a man's form as well as a griffin's wings and a serpent's tail, that under request changes shape into a man.

Mortkranken

Isami Yuri, Agnihaet

Agnihaet = Haagenti

10000 iq moment

Haagenti (also Haage, Hage) is a Great President of Hell, ruling thirty-three legions of demons. He makes men wise by instructing them in every subject, transmutes all metals into gold, and changes wine into water and water into wine. Haagenti is depicted as a big bull with the wings of a griffin, changing into a man under request of the conjurer.

Kirisaki Jiro, ???

wahoo

Let me know if I missed anything or got anything wrong! Hope this helps with your theorycrafting and oc making 💖

#tokyo debunker #frostheim #vagastrom #jabberwock #hotarubi #obscuary #mortkranken #tokyo debunker spoilers

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pixiedvst333 · 4 months ago

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☾ 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚𝙧 - 𝘝𝘪 / 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵 (𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘦)

another short one shot. i love wlw stories. my last vi post did rly well thank u guys ♡ >-<

masterlist <3

notes: fluff | wlw | x reader word count: 704

Gentle breeze whipping around your skin, you lay comfortably on a blanket, staring up at the midnight sky as stars and lights flickered in the darkness. A beauty so hidden in the Undercity, you had chosen to sneak up to Piltover, finding a hidden, empty cow-field to camp in for the night as you watched the shooting stars scatter across the horizon. It was rare you came up to Piltover; not only was it dangerous and you would be arrested on the spot if caught, but your girlfriend was to surely kill you if she found out where you were.

It's okay, you were weaponed up. You'd crafted your very own smoke bombs, haltered on your belt beside a five-inch dagger and a hand-crafted gun, and you'd taught yourself enough boxing and strength-training to help yourself. Your girlfriend was just over-reacting.

"Oi, Cupcake!"

Speak of the Devil.

Rolling your eyes as you anticipated the telling-off you were about to receive, you sat up with a soft smile, shooting her a wave as she stormed over. "Hi, Vi!"

"What are you doing up here, Y/n?" she exclaimed, kneeling down to your level as she furrowed her sharp brows. A stern expression sat on her face, but you weren't intimidated. You knew she was simply worried about you and had most likely been searching. "I've told you never to come to Piltover without me."

"Spoilsport," you pouted, looking away from her and staring back up at the sky. "You were out all evening looking for Silco, Vi. I got bored, so I came up to stargaze. Got a problem with that?"

"What if you'd gotten hurt, doll?" she sighed, sitting down next to you and wrapping a firm arm around your shoulders. She gently kissed your cheek, brushing your jaw with her thumb. "What if I didn't get here in time?"

"I can hold myself, y'know," you insisted, unhooking your weapons from your waist and dumping them onto the blanket before you. Vi nodded in appreciation and admiration, picking them up one by one and examining in awe. "You just overthink."

"I just don't want you getting hurt, Y/n," she smiled, passing the weapons back to you and watching as you hooked them back onto your belt. Sighing deeply, she fell onto her back with a thump, arms behind her head as she flexed and showed off her biceps. You followed suit, resting your head on her chest as she draped an arm around your hips. The silence echoed around the both of you, the occasional 'moo' bellowing in the distance along with the gallop of horses. Kisses began to litter your head and forehead, before another to your lips, and you looked up to see a sweet smile on the hardened face of your girlfriend. She tucked your hair behind your ears, and let out a sigh. "It's peaceful up here."

"Yeah, I've been coming here for a while now," you replied, twiddling with the red hair that hovered over Vi's eyes. "Always a place of peace for me. Gets me out of my head."

"I don't blame you," she said, counting the stars in the sky and tracing the constellations with her finger. "Just don't get arrested, cuz I won't be breaking you out."

"You're too kind," you answered sarcastically, shaking your head. "Would you come visit me, at least?"

"Hm, maybe, on the odd special occasion," she teased, pursing her lips as she thought. "Then again, I'd miss your thighs too much."

"Vi," you scoffed, playfully slapping her shoulder as she grinned confidently, swatting you away. "I don't think I'd miss your snarkiness. Maybe I should go to jail if you really love me that little."

"Oh, don't say that," she sighed, picking you up and rolling over so you were lying on your back. She hovered over you, her head cocked to the side as she pressed a kiss to your lips. You melted into her, your arms draped over her shoulders as you returned the kiss. "You know I love you. More than anything."

"More than the stars in the sky?" you beamed, looking into her eyes as she chuckled.

"More than the stars in the sky, my darling."

#arcane #league of legends #lol #vi #violet #vi x reader #vi x oc #fanfiction #fluff #netflix #one shot

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kinsey3furry300 · 2 months ago

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A fanfiction experiment: does not knowing which fandom you are reading make a good twist?

I love fanfiction.

But I also love suddenly discovering new things when reading a book. I like being surprised by shifts in tone, genre or style when reading. And the tagging and filtering systems used on AO3 and fanfiction dot net are so very good at letting you know exactly what you’re getting before you start reading, that it’s almost imposable to get pleasantly surprised like that. It's a great system for avoinding stuff that mught be triggering or just not your jam, or for finding what you like, but I miss the suprise sometimes.

So, as an experiment, I’m going to post the following Poll, and a short fic underneath the “keep reading” with nothing in the tags to let you know which fictional world this is set in. This is fanfic, but you won’t know which fandom until you start reading.

Does working it out in real time what fandom you’re in make for a fun twist?

CW for swearing and one obloquie reference to what might be offscreen sex.

Tagging a bunch of my mutuals that I think are involved in fanworks from several different fandoms to see if they enjoy the twist or if this is dumb. Sorry. Feel free to share for a wider audience.

@rain-droplet @zarohk @myheartisbro-ken @thejakeformerlyknownasprince @moonlight-fox @jewishpangolin @sarifel-corrisafid-ilxhel @abigfuzzybear @sillycourtjester @nazguldivorce @natalieironside @eom-02 @flamingswordofdoom @ghost-avian @thisfuckingdork @nice-is-neat @gaykarstaagforever @noeudspapillons @kabukiaku @bunjywunjy Edit: Also than you to the user who pointed out the rather embarrassing spelling error that both me and my beta missed. Once again the dyslexia is gunning for me.

Unpaved road. Barbed wire fence. Montana cattle country, high summer. Car.

The man in the grey suit stood in the road looking at the open hood of the car, forlorn. He took out his phone for the third time and checked. No signal. His expression did not change at this.

Upon hearing hoofbeats, he stepped over and looked, shielding his eyes from the beating sun with both hands.

“Can I help you?” asked the woman on horseback from the other side of the fence. Early or Mid 20s, black, handsome. Blue jeans, Gillingham shirt, scuffed work boots, straw cowboy hat. Faint California accent. Rifle slung over back, old military surplus canteen dangling from the pommel of the saddle.

“Umm, yeah.” Said the man. No accent. East coast, maybe. “My rental has died on me. Do you have a phone?”

“No signal.” Said the woman, sliding off the horse and resting one foot on the barbed wire, before vaulting over, one hand on her shoulder to stop the rife swinging. “I keep a satellite phone in my truck, but that’s over the far side of the ranch. Here.” She said, tying the reigns to the fence. “I’ll take a look. What seems to be the problem?”

The man looked nervously from the rifle to the car for a moment. “Honestly? Dammed if I know. Darn thing just died on me. You out hunting?” He asked. The woman snorted.

“No, I don’t approve of hunting for sport, and I don’t eat meat anymore. I carry this for defence. Coyotes, more than people. I’ve got foals in the far paddock, and that attracts predators.”

“So you shoot them?” the man asked, sounding surprised. The woman shook her head.”

“I don’t plan to.” She said, moving to the car and resting the gun against the front bumper. The man moved out of the way and down the road a speck, giving her some room to work. “Usually I go for organic controls, this is just for last ditch emergencies.”

“Organic controls?” said the man, confused. He patted down his pockets, then pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He then took off his suit jacket, a remarkably human gesture in that heat. “What’s that?”

“Oh, coyotes and wolves are territorial. You get a large wolf to mark the edges of your land, and the rest of them generally stay away. Doesn’t work on bears, but bears are more likely to spook a horse foraging than actually hunt one. They need to be run-off, but they generally move when a large stallion charges them. We don’t get many grizzlies here, and the black bears wont normally bother a full grown horse.”

The man snorted. “You have a tame wolf, like, a pet? Just to piss on the fenceposts?” the women laughed. “No, that would be ridiculous. You can order pellets online. Wool soaked in wolf urine, wolf or tiger dung pellets, scares off the Coyotes or Cougars. Fresher is better, but thankfully I know someone at a zoo, they sort me out.” She said, looking over the engine.

“Ah? So this is your land then, I take it?” he said, moving to stand in the road, directly behind her, five paces back. Where she couldn't see.

“Yep. Nearly a thousand hectares, half horse ranch, half re-wilding program, down by the national forest. I’m partnered with fish and game. We’re reintroducing bevers next spiring, and I’m very exited about it.” She said, frowning. It honestly didn’t look like there was anything wrong with the car at all.

“Ah. Nice place. Said the man, putting an unlit cigarette to his lips. “A little hard to find.” He added, lighting up with a smile.

The woman paused. She, and there was no other word for this, twisted. Not like she was moving, but like something had suddenly gone very wrong with her spine, just for a second. Then it was over, and she calmly put one hand on the gun.

The man smiled. “Organic controls, so I see. You know, for a moment I thought I had the wrong person, but when faced with a clear threat, you reached for the gun second.”

“There are snipers.” She said, calmly. “You should know I’m being watched by the government, so if you try any crazy fanboy bullcrap-”

“Private first class Macerson and Lance-corporal Evens, USMC scout snipers, seconded out a military unit that doesn’t officially exist, yes, we knew you’d spotted them. You took the time to wait until they were replaced with the night shift, Cooper and Mackie, and then drove into town and went straight to the same bar they always hit up when they’re off duty. I presume you’d been trailing them for some time? Honestly, just confronting them would have spooked them enough, did you really need to pretend you didn’t know who they were and hook up with Evens? The poor boy is quite stricken with guilt, so I’m told. You didn’t have to twist the knife. They watch you, and we watch them. Something in Latin, ect ect. ” Said the man. He offered the cigarette to the woman, who was now standing there facing him, fists balled by her side, looking furious.

“You’re government.” She said. It was not a question.

“Yes.” Said the man smiling sweetly thought the smoke. Menthol, she noticed. “But not yours. Although I am here with their permission.” He took a long drag. “You know, I’m not joking when I said you were hard to find. Honestly? I thought the bird would have been the hardest to contact, but Fish and Game have an entire team dedicated to tracking his movements. I was as close to him as I am to you, if you’re wondering. He was about there” he said, pointing to the road “Pecking at roadkill. Not chatty. Marco now, Marco has a fucking press-agent and to be honest, you can mostly find him by heading to the right nightclubs and aiming for the mirrors, and poor, poor Jake, well… if you have the right security clearance, you can not only find him but make him call you ‘sir’. This spot, this spot now… properly of the radar. I had to pull a lot of strings at the state department to even find out about this place.”

“Good for you. Fuck off. I’m not interested.” She said moving to the fence and untying her horse. “I’m over it, and even if I wasn’t I don’t take kindly to strangers coming over and-”

“We’ve met before.” He said, calmly. “Back in the war.”

She hesitated “I- I don’t recall.”

The man laughed. “Well, I did look quite different then. Hork-Bajir host. You ripped my throat out. Worst thing was, I was already in the Yeerk Peace Movement at the time, just had the bad luck to draw guard duty right before the famed ‘Andalite bandits’ raided. Got off lucky, all things considered: Rachel was crushing heads that day. We need you, Cassie, the peace movement.”

“And? We’re at peace, more or less.”

“More.” The man said, sighing, “Or less. The empire is collapsing, Cassie. You’re out of the loop but I imagine you still follow the news. Balkanizing, infighting, the remnants re-militarizing, and there are some very nasty rumours starting to appear form the far edges of the empire about gods-knows what. Members of the peace movement like myself who spent years working our way up the government to key positions now find there’s hardly a government left anymore, and those of us who made allies in the Andalite and human governments, and those of us who keep in touch with the Notlith community have started to disappear, right here on earth. It… it’s falling apart.”

The young woman sighed. “It always does. What’s it to do with me.”

The man looked upset. “You founded the peace movement, we had hoped-”

“You’re not going to find peace by pulling me, specifically, into another war. What do you want? Spit it out.”

The man narrowed his eyes, took a deep pull on the menthol, glaring at her through smoke, and then continued.

“Some of the Yeerk Nothlit community here on earth have, ah, some regrets about choosing to Nothlit themselves. Their dissatisfaction makes them prime recruiting material for yeerk nationalists who want to re-build the empire, some of them are working with organized crime in Brazil… and there is a rumour that Andalite medics have found a method to cure Nothlit syndrome. Worse, the rumours are true: having looked over their findings from my contacts in the Andalite military, it looks like they are either there, or very close to it. You see the implication?”

She sighed. “Thousands of angry Yeerks who want to re-build the empire running amok in the amazon? Yes I can see the problem. Why is it my problem though? What do you want me to do? Go and make a PR appearance advocating the merits of staying a snake? Wiggle a dead rat around for them so it still looks alive?”

“No. Our initial plan was to just assassinate the Andalite scientists that were working on the cure, oh, don’t give us that look. The Andalite military refused to look the other way, so the best we could manage was to get them to evoke Seerow’s Kindness and not share the cure with us Yeerks.”

“I sense a but coming.”

“But, someone sneaked a copy of the research notes out, via the Skrit Na, and they made their way to earth. The Yeerk Peace movement and the governments of the Unites States and Brazil agreed that on the balance of probability this was a bad thing, and we sent a team into to recover or destroy the data.”

“I’m not doing it. Not getting involved. If some yeerks want to un-Nothlit themselves, that’s their choice.”

"Oh, no… we’ve already destroyed the data, we believe, the mission was a success. That’s not the problem.”

“So what is?”

“The team didn’t make it out. We need someone morph-capable to go into the amazon on a search and recue-”

“Fuck off.” she said, re-mounting the horse.

The man sighed. “I could have gone to Jake, I have the authority to just order him to do it. I could have tried to leverage Tobias, he has… personal stakes in this, but I think he’s too far gone for this. I could even just appeal to Marco’s ego, or request the Andalite military sends a war-prince and some special forces. This is time sensitive, so do you know why I’m wasting time with you?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.” She said.

“Jake, the Andalites, the US government, all told me the same thing: it’s not worth it. The probability of getting them out alive is too low. We’d lose more people trying to pull them out than we’d save, plus the collateral casualties… They all looked at the maths, and decided it wasn’t viable. I need someone who doesn’t look at the maths. Someone who cares about the lost lives… someone who will feel bad if this goes wrong, and hold back as a result. We have a Chee contact in place to run intel and support the op, we have a backup team, but what we don’t have is anyone I’d trust to do it right. Someone is killing our people, ma’am. The Nothlit yeerks that refuse to join the New Empire, and no doubt killing a lot of innocent anacondas in the process. They’re dying. And I need some who is sane, functional, and cares if that stops or not. You’ll be compensated for your time: 2 million, donated to the wildlife charities of your choice, we already know your usual ones-”

“No.” said the woman, wrestling the horse around to leave.

The man pulled out a Dracon beam. The woman cussed and reached for her rifle.

He turned, and quite calmly used the weapon to burn a number onto the nearest fencepost.

“Modulated beam, the latest tech.” he said. “My phone number. I’d try my business card, but I imagine you’d rip it up dramatically. Call anytime.” He said, dropping the hood and climbing into the car. It started first time.

“Why in the hell would I call you?” she yelled.

“Because tonight, when you’re done running around on all fours marking fence-posts or seducing your minders or whatever you do on a weeknight, you’ll wonder just how many people will die if you don’t.” The man said, calmy, driving away. *****

Cassie lay in bed looking at the ceiling for a long time.

“Fuck.” She said, after some time.

There was a noise. Coyotes. You couldn’t blame them, for being killers. It was just what they did.

They didn’t choose to kill others.

She sighed, walked to the window of the ranch-house, and focused for a second, morphing her vocal cords. It took barely ten seconds.

She slid the screen off her open window, stuck her head out, and howled. The Coyotes got the message, and left.

There. She didn’t have to shoot them, sometimes you could just scare them off, so long as they knew who the top-dog in this neighbourhood was.

Sometime the threat of force worked better than force itself. Sometimes you needed a nuanced touch to your violence, if you wanted to spare lives.

She sighed, and ran her fingers through her short buzzed hair.

“Shit.” She said, eventually.

Cussing the whole way, she stomped downstairs to the house phone. She did not own a cell phone. No point. This was one of the last spots in the lower 48 with no cell signal of any kind. Every time they tried to build a tower here, an increasingly ludicrous succession of rare birds would be seen trying to nest on the exact spot they had picked. Never a pair, but always a single highly endagered bird trying it’s damnedest to build a nest. Eventually the government had got the fucking hint and intervened with AT&T on her behalf.

Hating herself, she picked up the phone.

He answered on the second ring.

“How many lives?” was all she asked.

“At least eighteen, more if it goes badly. Three morph-capable humans and one morph-capable Hork-Bajir, four yeerks, ten regular humans who just got caught up in this mess. They’ve been gone 24 hours, so we’re looking at Kandrona starvation soon, if they’re not executed first.

“I… morph capable controllers?!” she said, surprised.

He laughed. “Not every Yeerk on earth took your offer to become a Nothlit, Cassie. The US government captured some portable Kandrona’s during the war. You’re smart, and attuned to social issues: if the US military wanted morphing special forces, did you not think the CIA would want the ability to finally puppet someone after years of Manchurian candidate MK Ultra bullshit? Sadly, some Yeerks just switched one empire for another. Plus, Jake’s toy-soldiers only have so many hours of training per day: if they spend all their time running around with guns and practicing morphing, that’s no time to learn languages or technical data. Four Operatives, each with a Yeerk co-pilot to round-out their skillset. All volunteers from the yeerk peace movement: went in to try and stop the killing of Nothlits and the un-Nothlit-ing the radicals. Captured. Human organized criminals aiding the Yeerk Ultra-nationalists. Voluntary controllers, Narco’s with Dracons and an axe to grind, and a bunch of very pissed-off snakes. Absolutely the worst-case scenario.”

“Fuck. Location?”

“Brazilian-Venezuelan boarder. We have a bug fighter on standby. We can get you to the approximate location to meet your team in…. seventeen minuets.”

She digested this information, drumming her fingers on the phone.

“Is this a trap?” she asked, finally.

“Certainly. But not one I’ve laid, or it would be better fucking organised. They are suspecting we’ll send someone in, they are not suspecting you, or a Chee. That gives us some hope.”

“Okay, and one more thing before I decide: You said you thought you could get Tobais involved, but he was too far gone. Personal stakes, you said. What did you mean by that?"

Pause. Crackling phone static.

“The Morph capable Hork-Bajir is Rak Hamee, Jara and Ket’s son. Younger brother of US congresswoman Toby Hamee, and they are being held hostage by Yeerk nationalists to try and leverage us into giving them the Nothlit cure.”

“Fuck.” Said Cassie. “Land the Bug in the south paddock. I don’t want you spooking the horses.”

#Poll #fanfiction #experiment #twist #writing #suspence writing

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