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gallawitchxx · 2 years ago

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🔮💨 WE'RE BACK BABY 🔮💨

hi buds! i'm writing this au 100 words at a time per the weekly prompts from @galladrabbles. prompted words are in PURPLE & there’s a 🔮💨 to note where each installment ends. thanks for reading! xx

the latest installment is #26: jello for the week of march 25, 2024

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If you’d have told Mickey Milkovich that by eighteen, he’d be Terry-free and running a drug-fueled, fortune-telling business out of the spare room, he would’ve said, “fuck off and eat shit.”

But here he is.

And here’s Ian Gallagher: lanky, alien-lookin’, and back for the third time to ask about his bootlicking future.

Mickey settles in, the snick of the lighter flooding his body with endorphins, and takes a hit. Breathes in deep, blows out slow. Avoids glowing green eyes that remind him just how big of a gamble this whole thing is.

“See anything yet?”

🔮💨

Fuck, his voice is so hopeful. Curious, in a way that sends Mickey’s blood both north and south. Makes him sway in his chair, lightheaded. Floating. High.

Until the flood came.

A breeze that nips the nose. Rosy cheeks, wide grin, a warm, open laugh. Lips press in a quick, familiar kiss. “Betcha I can still beat you back, Mick.” The playful smack of a big, freckled paw. A slight wince. A weariness. Creaky knees, an ache in the low back. Determination. Something that feels like there ain’t a right word for it in any language. “In your dreams, Gallagher.”

🔮💨

What in the fresh hell…

Mickey blinks—once, twice, three times—trying to harness whatever clarity might still be available to him between the weed and the horrifying scene still playing behind his eyelids.

He’s seen some shit before, doing this kinda work. Shit that’s freaked him out, confused both him and the clients desperate for information. Visions of blood, bile and beady red eyes.

But never before has he himself shown up in anyone’s future.

“Didja see something?” Gallagher questions, scanning Mickey’s face with an intensity that flips his belly.

“Ask me again, I’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out.”

🔮💨

Pink-tinged shame creeps up freckled cheeks, and Mickey’s instantly regretful. Gallagher’s a paying client, even if he does keep his cash in a dorky ass velcro wallet.

Their first two sessions had been fruitful, but incomplete.

Boot camp fatigues.

Helicopter blades.

A set of dog tags that read Phillip Gallagher, instead of Ian.

No wonder he’d shown up again, eager for answers.

Still, old habits die hard. Feelings are a luxury afforded to people a whole lot richer than a Milkovich. It’s easier to lie and be safe.

“Sorry, man. Nothin’ today.”

His chest clenches as Gallagher’s face falls.

🔮💨

The fuck is Mickey supposed to do? Tell him that desperate as he is to get blown to bits in some godforsaken desert, what just came through was nothing more than a couple of sore, old queens chasing each other in the snow? Even worse, try to explain that those frosted fairies are somehow them?

No fucking way.

Gallagher leans back in the rusted metal folding chair. He crosses his arms, his shirt riding up, revealing soft hair and sharp hips.

Heat licks at Mickey’s neck, along with the desire to wrap his legs around him and hold on tight.

🔮💨

“Okay… That’s okay,” he mumbles unconvincingly as he sits up again, his long fingers coming to rest on camo-clad thighs. Then, clearer, “Didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. Don’t really know how this shit works.”

“That makes two of us,” Mickey says before he can stop himself.

Pouty pink lips part, then tick upwards into a small smirk.

The moment lingers a bit too long, but Mickey’s now sufficiently stoned and ridiculously distracted by the deepening dimple in Gallagher’s chin to break it.

Something flickers between them. Cautious, curious, yet undeniably there.

“So, uh… what’s it feel like?”

🔮💨

“What’s what feel like?” Mickey asks, still dazed.

“You know… seeing shit.”

Oh. That.

Mickey mulls it over. He could tell him what it doesn’t feel like — a fucking gift. Or whatever people call bullshit abilities like getting so blitzed that you catch sight of what’s still to come. It’s a burden. A plight. If it didn’t make him cash money, he’d honestly consider going off weed altogether. Simply stick to the sauce.

But then again, he wouldn’t have Gallagher in his house, looking at him like he’s gonna say something stupid like, I’d rather have you, cursed or not.

🔮💨

Mickey battles between being benevolent and brash; nature versus nurture at near-constant war within him. But before he can bark out anything at all, he feels another wave pulling him under.

“Turn this chick shit off, man.” Flexed fingers separate his own, sneaking between them and holding on tight. Strong shoulders shrug. “Think it’s kinda like us.” A belly full of butterflies. A pair of flushed faces. “You’re still into me, huh?” A nod, sure and steady. “Always gonna be into you, Mickey.”

That last line takes him longer to shake, and goddammit, there’s no way Gallagher didn’t notice.

🔮💨

“Did you—” he starts predictably. Then, he quickly snaps his jaw shut, trapping the question within.

Mickey sniffs, fiddles with the zipper of his cut-off hoodie, trying to kill time. Keep his hands busy so he doesn’t do something dumb. But there’s really only one way this is gonna go, and he knows it. If Gallagher has even a lick of self-preservation underneath that buzzcut, he should too.

“It feels like you should stop asking stupid fuckin’ questions.” He swallows any stray pangs of conscience as he shoves crumpled bills across the crooked card table that separates them.

🔮💨

He watches Gallagher’s eyes snap to the money. It’s today’s fee returned, plus a little extra; whatever else was in Mickey’s pocket now collateral for his cowardice.

But he doesn’t take it. He doesn’t move at all.

“You fuckin’ deaf or somethin’?” Mickey shouts. Agitated. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re done here.”

Gallagher looks up. Stares straight into his goddamn soul. It’s terrifying—electrifying—and doesn’t hold a candle to the turmoil that rolls through him when that contact is suddenly gone, his gaze dropping to Mickey’s lips.

He fixates like he thinks they’ve already agreed to a truce.

🔮💨

“I know you saw something,” Gallagher whispers, stepping forward like a dead man on a mission.

Mickey winces. Wills himself back into his body, his eyes drifting shut as he calls to the scattered bits of his blissed out brain.

The time has come to fold.

“Yeah…”

The chaos spreads the room as Gallagher shifts again. Mickey’s pulse races, relying on sound and vibration to track his movements.

“I just need to know one thing.”

Mickey peeks, curious, then breathless at their newfound proximity.

They lock in eye to eye as Gallagher rips them apart:

“Do I make it through?”

🔮💨

The realization that his silence has been interpreted as some kind of personal tragedy makes Mickey want to punch something.

Hard.

Jesus Christ, it breaks his heart.

With fated versions of them swimming around his psyche, Mickey lets himself wonder if Gallagher might feel the way he does—worries he’s too broken, too disenfranchised, too fucked for life for anyone to be insane enough to love him.

He can almost hear their future selves asking, do you still love me even though I’m flawed? Can almost hear their whispered answers, yes, yes, always yes.

“Yeah, man,” he assures. “You do.”

🔮💨

The relief is clear as day for both the out-of-his-depth diviner and his confused client.

“Thanks,” Gallagher sniffs, eyes wide and wet. Everything feels fragile, like spun glass and cotton candy. Past their prime dandelions when a summer breeze kicks up. Not at all the way Mickey likes to feel—in his place of business, his own fucking home, his body… “See you next time?”

There is no next time with what Mickey now knows. Only half-truths and keeping his story straight.

Gallagher turns.

If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.

“Don’t—”

🔮💨

There’s an old poem about hollow men. Stuffed men. Men without sight; shape without form. Line after line of war and faith and shadows. Mickey’s not sure why he knows it. Doesn’t fully understand how it’s come to live in his brain and his bones. But here it is now:

This is the way the world ends.

Gallagher turns, his gaze a challenge. “Don’t what?”

This is the way the world ends.

“Just…”

This is the way the world ends.

Mickey’s breath catches in his throat.

Not with a bang but a whimper.

Gallagher’s lips twitch, but he stays put.

🔮💨

Maybe if those empty men were born in a different time, to other people, and raised under disparate circumstances, they would’ve been able to muster the courage to scream. To cry out their wants. Give voice to their needs.

(Could a couple of doped-up visions really create a need?)

As Gallagher continues to wait—not patiently, per se, but it’s perseverance nonetheless—it dawns on Mickey while he might have been born a worthless man, he doesn’t have to carry on that way.

His situation ain’t what it used to be.

“Can’t tell you what I saw,” he manages.

🔮💨

Gallagher’s hands flex at his sides, and it’s like Mickey’s noticing them for the first time. He ogles at how big they are, how speckled, how good they’d felt around his own hands in that last vision, how much he wants to feel them around his waist, his throat, his dick…

Flushed, and desperate to end this fucked up double date they’re on with their future selves, Mickey looks down at the soiled carpet.

“But I’m alive?” Gallagher asks.

“Very,” Mickey confirms, eyes lifting again. “Look happy.”

Gallagher’s grin sends sunlight streaming through a house once destined for eternal darkness.

🔮💨

“Thanks Mick.”

The nickname zigzags its way beneath Mickey’s skin like he’s a human pinball machine.

“Betcha I can still beat you back, Mick,” echoes an Ian who’s yet to be made real.

Mickey rubs at his bottom lip, hiding the smile that’s threatening to slip. Tries to play it off as a grimace. But Gallagher sees him—really sees him—and beams. A dream, how his smile implies that he’ll wait for Mickey to get there too.

And he will.

Mickey’s seen it.

Which gives him the confidence to say, “Come back. Next week. Or whenever. Try this again.”

🔮💨

The Universe takes “whenever” seriously, and in the days that follow, seizes full control of Mickey’s highs:

A broad chest pressed to his back. Arms wrapped around his neck.“Love is a battlefield!” Hoarse throats. Wide smiles. Two hearts near bursting.

Full-bodied wine. Pasta sauce on the stove. Tight jeans. Tighter tank. “You look good enough to eat, Mr. Milkovich.” “Bon appetite, Mr. Gallagher.”

“I love you, baby.” “Love you, Ian.”

Having waited the full week, Ian finally arrives on the Milkovich steps, dressed down in a striped shirt that makes Mickey’s mouth dry.

He hopes it’s cotton mouth…

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🔮💨 CHAPTER TWO 🔮💨

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Ian’s knuckles pulse from the pert pace at which he raps on the Milkovich door.

It’s torture to just stand there and wait, held captive and stripped bare, nerves torn to pieces and praying for a little compassion.

He hopes Mickey’s home. They never confirmed his appointment. Ian’s just going off of his final words—Come back. Next week. Or whenever. Try this again.—before he turned away to find another cigarette.

Ian’s watched the entirety of their last encounter on a loop ever since, like a fucked up foreign film. No subtitles, just mixed (smoke) signals, confusion, and Mickey.

🔮💨

His whole experience with Mickey Milkovich, Southside’s Supreme Stoner Psychic, has been baffling to say the least.

At first, Ian wasn’t buying it. It’s gotta be some kind of scam! But Mickey’s built a solid reputation for being accurate and to the point. Besides, Ian’s always had a little bit of a crush. A death wish, too. So he paid Mickey his money and left with some fragments of his fated future.

He also left with a hunch that his feelings might not be so one-sided... Mickey didn’t hand over a Valentine’s card, but Ian saw the way he’d stared.

🔮💨

He’s still picturing it when Mickey swings open the door and crosses his arms over his chest, tugging at the buttons of his black dress shirt.

Okay, formal, Ian thinks, taking in Mickey’s slicked back hair and the smoke of his cologne.

Ian regrets his tee and jeans, missing the authority and confidence of his uniform. But Mickey doesn’t seem to mind—there’s hunger in his gaze again, twin storm clouds rolling in over a calm sea.

For a moment, they both look their fill.

Ian opens his mouth to speak, but fails.

Mickey smirks. “Comin’ in or what, Mushmouth?”

🔮💨

He steps back, giving Ian space to cross over the threshold; inviting him to close the distance between them, and commit to finding out what comes next.

Ian obeys every silent order. His feet move of their own volition, as if they’re attached to a ratchet wrench that pulls him forward in one direction, and one direction only: towards Mickey.

The electric current that runs between them had felt innocent enough last week, and then again, today, in the fresh air of the porch.

But when Mickey shuts the door to behind them, Ian realizes he’s caught in a trap.

🔮💨

The house smells different. Good, even? Like something's cooking in an oven that hasn’t been used in years. It’s familiar in a way that tickles at Ian’s memory and further drops his defenses.

Mickey doesn’t mention it. He just brushes past Ian, leading them towards the room he’s been using for business.

On the table, next to Mickey’s bong, is a platter of pizza rolls. Ian’s mouth waters.

Mickey thumbs at his nose. “You’ve lost your way, you think your life is wrecked,” he says, taking his seat. “Well, let me just say you're correct.”

Ian blinks twice. “Wait, what?”

🔮💨

Mickey’s eerie silence pulls the moisture from his mouth until he’s nothing more than a shriveled sack of dust. A tumbleweed in the desert, crawling towards an oasis that might not be real.

What Ian wouldn’t give for Mickey to pick up his piece and press his worries into the earth; bury them in the plush of ground weed. He wants to watch the water swirl beneath colored glass, wants to watch the fire turn into steam and smoke. Needs to see the air fill Mickey’s chest, raise his shoulders and bloat his lungs.

Finally:

“I know your secret, Gallagher.”

🔮💨

Ian’s heart kicks in his chest, a jolt of fear spiking through him, and his head swims. It’s like he’s back inside the dark theatre he’d been in all week. Mickey’s words are nothing but unfamiliar sounds.

If he’s gonna go to the movies, he might as well get a snack.

He grabs a pizza roll from the plate in front of him and pops it in his mouth. But when he bites down, the inevitable happens.

“Fuck,” he garbles, the sauce piping hot and burning his mouth.

Ian doubles over, in pain and embarrassed. He really should’ve known better.

🔮💨

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey huffs, standing up and leaving the room.

Ian opens his inferno of a mouth, hoping the air of the room will cool down the masticated snack. Thankfully, by the time he hears the familiar sound of a beer cap being popped off, he’s able to swallow.

Mickey returns, bottle in hand. He offers it to Ian. “S’all we got.”

Ian takes it, grateful as the icy liquid chills his charred throat. “All you got, huh? Even juvie’s got jello.”

“What d’you know about juvie, Gallagher?”

Mickey’s squint makes Ian’s chest constrict.

“What d’you know about me, Milkovich?”

#we love a master post moment!#updates weekly babes 🔮💨#crystal ball weed bong mickey ily #bright eyed bootlicker ian you are so precious #shameless #shameless fanfiction #galladrabbles #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #bee writes 🐝 ✍🏼

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meffuyu · 2 years ago

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𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘

(A spontaneous feeling of closeness)

Ask:: "Tanjiro and y/n have their first kiss, how did it feel, where did they kiss. Did it escalate?? I leave these questions to you, dear author."

tanjiro k. x reader

a/n : occasionally I post ship fics on my ao3, exploring wonderful genres for practice. (Pink93)

Writing scenarios even I wish I had experience in. 🗿

Fluff, and… more fluff?

It was time.

Tanjiro dared himself to do something he had never done before. The next time he was going to meet you again face-to-face, he would seal his overflowing feelings with a passionate kiss.

He didn't know how to kiss a girl or if that would break your boundaries. He didn't wish to upset you, he respected women! Unlike a particular comrade…

Tanjiro couldn't ask anyone for advice on how to kiss a girl, and no, not just any girl, you.

The topic was once brought to the two of his trusted friends, but they only looked at each other in confusion. Inosuke thought kissing was more like eating one's face for the sake of starvation. While Zenitsu kept pestering him to reveal the lucky girl he had his eyes on.

If only they knew it was you, he was sure the two of them would have laughed their hearts away.

But here he was, sitting on his knees attending a class that perfected 'the art of lips,' in other words, Zenitsu's lesson about love.

The poor boy Tanjiro had his fingers curled into fists and firmly pressed against his knees. Beside him was Inosuke, apparently doing the same action.

Back and forth, Zenitsu paced around, holding a long twig he had managed to obtain at the beginning of this class. He took this teaching job seriously as his arms were behind his back.

Whipping the tip of the stick against the ground earned the other two boys a stiff reaction.

"So…" He started. "What brings the two of you to my class? Hm? You both have sad lives, so; I'm curious to know why you asked little ol' me for help." The blond closed his eyes as he took deep breaths, almost like he was angry.

"I ain't even wanna be here!" Inosuke huffed, folding his arms against his bare, rippled chest.

Truth was, Zenitsu forced Inosuke to attend; the only person willing was Tanjiro. Yes, it is a surprise, especially since he debated his thoughts about allowing Zenitsu to teach him everything that needed to be known about kissing.

Zenitsu clicked his tongue. Inosuke's complaints have ticked him off. "Shut up! You will sit there and learn how to kiss a girl properly- you should be grateful I am wasting my precious time on you since you don't even know what romance is!"

"What did you say!?" The inner boar was set ablaze.

"You heard me! After I'm done, you better be able to kiss a girl so you won't be so depressed and lonely in life! While Tanjiro and I will have wives, you'll have nothing but your measly damned self!" The blond fired back, yelling at the top of his lungs.

Tanjiro turned pale as his jaw dropped.

Inosuke became speechless.

[Name]... as a wife?

Instantly, Zenitsu returned to his natural mood state and beamed as if nothing had happened. He pointed the stick at Tanjiro, slightly waving it around.

"Very well, what about you? Why are you here?" He quizzically asked.

Tanjiro thought carefully and soon parted his lips to explain.

"I was hoping to prepare myself when kissing the girl I like, but… I realized that life is about risks. When we returned from the Entertainment District, Mr. Uzui told us that love seems to come in the ways you least expect."

Zenitsu raised both of his eyebrows, intrigued with what Tanjiro told him. "So, what are you trying to say?"

"I don't think this class is for me." He concluded. Tanjiro quickly arose from his sitting position and hauled the giant crate that contained Nezuko upon his back.

"What? But Tanjiro!-" The blond began.

"I have to go! She's usually around this time, I know what I'm going to do." He waved, and before Zenitsu could give a piece of his mind, Inosuke captured the boy into a headlock.

"HUgh-?!"

"Monitsu! You're all talk!" Inosuke retaliated.

Tanjiro wasted no time in leaving, he was desperate to see you. So he continuously waved to the two boys fighting and making a loud commotion. Tanjiro jogged through the mighty forest with a crate on his back, he knew Nezuko was asleep right now.

You met Tanjiro before he formed his squad, but you had to depart because you preferred to be solo. Even so, working with Kanao Tsuyuri in combat had always been driven by a little Insect Pillar.

The young teenager was in a hurry as the dust from the ground flew in the air each time he dragged his feet against the surface. He held onto the straps of the crate tightly, trying to keep it at least sturdy so Nezuko wouldn't awaken by the frequent movement.

From the rural land, he escaped the forest with the tallest trees. He entered the town in his view, excited to see you again.

"Hey Nezuko, it's natural to try your firsts with the person you love, right?" He inquired, as he knew he would receive no response from his kid demon sister anytime soon. So, for now, he would just see it as a rhetorical question.

Passing through the open shops that displayed their goods and services, Tanjiro examined his surroundings; however, it was only by the alarming scent he adored so much that he could get led to where you were located.

He pondered thoughtfully on if he would give you something special one day. His eyes scanned the various stores with antiques for different occasions. Stopping his footing, he saw a hairpin that reminded him so much of you. For some odd reason, he knew he had to get it for you.

About five hundred yen was the price.

After just a few words with the shopkeeper, he had the hairpin in his hand in no time. Featuring fabrics and silks that complimented the designs, he believed you would love it.

But of course, he couldn't spend any more time admiring the item, he needed to see you!

He was off, jogging again at a pace his legs would surely take him. After some minutes of searching and turning many street corners, he saw a specific figure by a Palmate Maple tree. On the bench, you were, typically writing a letter.

How did he know you were writing a letter? He knew everything about you, and little did you know that he did.

Watching your concentrated expression while you thought about words to incorporate into your letter. Your eyebrows knitted together as you chewed on your bottom lip focused.

The season for romance Zenitsu would say, but it was only Autumn.

Placing the giant crate down, Tanjiro approached you with great reluctance in his movement. He did not wish to startle you or stop you from continuing your intense writing. Magenta orbs observing the straw brush in your hand, and to him, the motion of the tip indicated you were writing a specific word in Kanji.

Then you suddenly looked up.

He was so alarmed by how you did so, it was something he least expected. The rate of his heartbeat increased per minute, and for a second, he lost his breath.

Actually, when did he get so close to you? He was peering over you, staring at your features up close. How embarrassing…

"T-Tanjiro!?" You squeaked.

Quickly, your arms shielded your work when you understood what was happening. That action caused you to knock over the small jar of jet black pigment, which Tanjiro caught instantly due to swift reflexes.

"[Name]!" He called.

Tanjiro was caught off guard. Sitting next to you on the wooden bench, he lifted the jar of ink. You had rolled up your letter, giving him your full attention.

Typical Tanjiro. The answer was clear to anyone, even if you wanted to ask how he found you. Somehow, he looked even tenser than the last time he saw you during an outing.

Setting aside the parchment paper, you retrieved the ink jar from his hold.

"Were you looking for me?" You asked, and to that, he nodded.

Tanjiro began sweating when he remembered what he specifically came here to do, so he thought to himself: what would Mr. Uzui do?

He displayed a poker-faced expression, which had you slightly concerned. His index finger was pressed against his chin as he thought intensely about how the Sound Pillar would behave. He was… thinking a little too hard.

"Hello? Hey?" You waved your palm directly over his face.

You weren't able to get an answer to your question because all that followed was silence. Only people's conversations could be heard, or the hardened Fall leaves were crushed under the feet of 'seasonal' couples.

'Remember you three… actions, always speak louder than words.'

Tanjiro thought those words were rich coming from Tengen Uzui. However, there was a point made that he couldn't deny.

Actions do speak louder than words.

Actions… Words…

And a heartbeat.

His heart was beating at the thought of kissing you. He swore he'd make a move; he told Zenitsu and Inosuke he could do it without using the kissing classes. Then why was he stalling so much?!

It's because he's never kissed a girl like you before.

Two roughly textured palms were wrapped around your single hand. The force that came with the capture of your hand was immeasurable. You toppled over him until your body was pressed firmly against his chest, and his eyes locked in with yours.

As people tried to see what exactly was happening, the two of you were in a questionable position. On the bench, Tanjiro was lying flat on his back, and you hovered over him.

It was hard not to laugh as your noses touched each other, as if his clumsiness had gotten the best of him this time. It wasn't long before your hair tickled his face, and he was laughing. There seemed to be a mess between you two, almost as if you were a couple.

"What on earth are you doing, clumsy!" You joked, patting his chest to try and sustain your laughter. His sweet chuckles had already died down, and all that remained was a soft smile.

"This." He replied.

With his eyelids closing, Tanjiro's lips made contact with your own. It was an indescribable feeling that one would call a 'spark.' In this case, a spark had been ignited by the tender kiss.

As his lips moved against yours, he savoured the passion he was experiencing and the taste of your plump lips. When the surprise wave ended, you kissed him in return. Tanjiro's lips formed to become one with yours as he took his time. He had no thoughts; he couldn't think of anything to distract himself because the kiss felt so alive.

In the boy's eyes, it didn't matter if your hair was thick or thin because his main objective was to push the hairpin into the clusters of hair tendrils.

The young Kamado found his way to express his undying love.

It was a success that the hairpin stuck in your hair and looked pretty on you as well.

The first kiss Tanjiro had ever shared with you was finally over as he pulled away from you. He fiddled with the pin before allowing you to embrace it.

"You shouldn't have, and you know it!" You chided with a fit of giggles.

"But," Tanjiro shook his head with that permanent smile. "I had to because of one specific reason."

"Oh? What's the reason?" Another question you decided to ask as your fingertips traced the hairpin lightly.

"Because I love you."

#tanjiro x you #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro x y/n #demon slayer x reader #tanjiro drabbles #tanjiro fluff #kny fluff #ㅡ meff writings!

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peachsayshi · 3 years ago

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Chapter 13 - Spinning

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Angst

Summary: You and Gojo are caught up in your feelings and he unintentionally breaks another rule.

A/N: (18+ / minors and ageless blogs dni) New chapter! This is a bit of a filler chapter but I am working up to some dramatic things (smut and angst coming up!) plus revealing some of the secrets that happened in the timeline 👀 I hope you enjoy it! And as always comments are appreciated ☺️

- - -

Sitting cross legged on your bedroom floor, you proceeded to fold the fresh laundry into perfectly neat piles. Music enveloped your room, the bass from your speaker bouncing off the walls as you mindlessly hummed along to the track that was playing. This is how you were choosing to unwind after a long work week, by organizing and cleaning up your apartment. There was something completely cathartic about resetting your space and you found yourself having plenty of free time on your hands recently.

Gojo has been exceptionally busy. At first there was an itch when you began seeing less of him, the two of you would plan to get together but that consistently kept getting cancelled. Eventually those plans transitioned to you agreeing on catching up with one another once things settled. Now it seems the only time you managed to hear from your friend was with sporadic phone calls and random text messages that he would send you at weird hours. The itch slowly turned into an ache, that familiar knot in your stomach making its presence known more often than usual.

There was something about the way he managed to fill the silence. You always gave him a hard time about talking your ear off but realised that he actually entertained you with some great conversations.

Even though half the time he was talking about ridiculous subject matters…

You had to hand it to Satoru though, he always spoke with such enthusiasm he would make the concept of paint drying seem fascinating.

He was fascinating.

Eight years of friendship have taught you that but you were smart enough not to feed his ego. Despite the two of you being close, Gojo still never fully let you in. You couldn’t deny that you were intrigued by him, curious to know more about the strongest sorcerer who seemed totally unphased by his own title whenever he was around you. You wanted to know more about how he fought off curses and protected people from the evils that seemed to be invisible in your eyes. Although he consistently evaded your questions, he did slowly open up about other things. You particularly loved the way his face let up when he talked about his students and it made you realise that if there was anything Gojo Satoru had committed himself to, it was his role as an instructor to the next generation of sorcerers.

Still, you usually tried to pry information out of him when the two of you would get lost in deep conversation, noticing the way Gojo would drift in his own thoughts whenever the subject seemed to focus on him.

Clearly there was an extent to which the man loved talking about himself.

There was a point when he spoke where you saw his face grow pensive as he brought up an old friend. He referenced him in passing but the way his mouth fell pained you just as much as it seemed to hurt him. Your question was on the tip of your tongue, eager to learn more about the people within his own circle, but Satoru immediately shifted the conversation onto something else.

That wall, much like his infinity, is impenetrable.

Unfortunately, the dynamics were in his favor. You wished that you could conceal your own emotions as easily around him but it was impossible. Gojo had the capability of knowing exactly how you were thinking and feeling at any given second. His incredible perception was his advantage, that’s why he is able to gauge your reactions so well.

You smiled subconsciously to yourself, goosebumps floating up to your shoulders when you realised how much you wanted your arms wrapped around his neck, your body pressing into his chest while breathing that spicy, sweet cologne…

Stop it.

You paused your action, the jeans on your lap in a mid-fold as you froze in place and your brain instantly turned off those dangerous ideas.

You swallowed your own emotions, your abdomen tight when you realised that you had just spent the last ten minutes having intimate thoughts about Gojo.

You really shouldn’t but there was something about the way he acts around you that made you the slightest bit curious as to what he was thinking and how he was feeling.

How often did you cross his mind and did he even miss you as much as you did him?

At some point the two of you were going to have to stop this little game you were playing. Even though you weren’t seeking it out at the moment, you do want to settle down eventually with somebody you love. Satoru made it perfectly clear where he stood on relationships. He had no desire to get involved with anybody and the concept of marriage was something he completely rejected.

You recalled having a conversation with him about:

“Are you really telling me that you’re okay living as a bachelor for the rest of your life?”

“Happily, actually…” Gojo replied, while you both continued your heated debate on the prospects of love.

“But why are you so against it?”

"I have my reasons,” he replied with a shrug.

Satoru always seemed to have a reason for everything but he was not willing to share it with you, leaving you in moments like this to analyze the little things he says to try and put the pieces together yourself.

Truthfully, you don’t want to stop as you found yourself fixated on this new…friends with benefits-ship…

Everything about it felt so good that you couldn’t even remember what things were like before you started hooking up.

How could you go back to just being friends after he’s seen you in your most vulnerable state? How were you supposed to pretend that his hands haven’t unraveled you into submission time and time again? How could you sit next to him without thinking about kissing him for hours on end? How were you supposed to listen to him talk without remembering the moments where he would whisper angel in your ear?

How the hell did you manage to keep your hands off him before this even started?

There was always the unspoken fact that you found each other attractive but since this new dynamic has started the two of you were like magnets whenever you were in close proximity to one another.

Well, you were able to keep the barrier because you were in a happily committed relationship with Haru, you interjected and suddenly you found yourself slumping your shoulders.

Haru was in love with you. He gave you the companionship you needed, he filled the silence with mindless conversations and was the one who held you when you needed him. He was the one to swallow your cries with soft kisses, that made you laugh in hysterics when you needed to boost your mood…

Your heart stopped, realizing that you were seeking out what Haru gave you with Gojo. Your gut wrenching at the idea of you using your friend to fill the emotional gap that Haru left. This ache that knotted your insides meant nothing and you were letting your thoughts confuse you into thinking that you were missing Gojo.

All you needed was to get your distraction back.

After all, Gojo is just your friend.

You had no reason to think anything else could come of this and burned any other thought about Satoru from crossing your mind for the rest of the evening.

If you even thought for a second that you might be falling for him, you would cut ties immediately. You weren’t going to put a strain on your friendship because you’re silly ideals were getting in the way of your agreement.

The two of you were just fucking.

Nothing more, nothing less.

***

Gojo studied the woman before him, acknowledging the fact that she is one of the most stunning individuals he had ever laid his eyes on. She was older than him by ten years but if it wasn’t for the age on her online profile, he wouldn’t have been able to tell.

She was tall, meeting his own towering height, give or take a few inches. Her long, pin straight hair flowed to her hips, accentuating her curves and covering her supple breasts. Her face could strike down any man that looked at her with those deep eyes and he was tempted to nibble on her full lips. Seeing her in person made Gojo realize that her price was high for a reason and totally justifiable.

Anyone would pay extra to fuck a goddess.

Somehow, he wound up here thanks to his own frustrations. His desire for you was driving him wild and his own hands weren’t enough to solve this problem. He still respected the rules that were unbroken and knew that as long as he didn’t go too far with Ami, he was fine. He wasn’t going to have sex with her but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t help him out with his current predicament in other ways.

Besides, you did tell him that he was allowed to see other people. However, that didn’t stop his stomach from twisting at the thought of climbing into bed with someone other than you. He couldn’t quite figure out what this awkward sensation was or why he was bothered by his own decision to meet up with Ami in the first place.

Gojo stripped down to his boxers before sitting on the edge of her satin covered mattress. She was admiring him with amusement, the tempting smile on her lips telling him that she was also enjoying what she was seeing.

“You paid for a full hour but said that you might not be here for that long. Did something urgent come up?” she questioned, her voice sensually low and sending a shiver up Gojo’s spine.

My she is dangerous, he thought to himself, knowing full well how this entire experience would go under different circumstances.

The circumstances being, well, you.

“I don’t plan on sticking around too long...” he explained.

“I’ll have to adjust your pay accordingly then,” she replied, taking a few steps forward until she was standing in front of him.

“I don’t mind paying for the full hour,” Gojo teased with a grin, his free hand moving to touch her silky hair as he rubbed it between his fingers.

She smiled, nearly taking his breath away as she brought her finger to the blindfold covering his eyes.

“I don’t like accepting money for free,” she stated, tracing her touch down his chiseled jawline. “I bet you’re handsome but I am guessing you don’t plan on taking this thing off to show me what you really look like.”

“Yep,” Gojo smiled as Ami proceeded to slide across her bed next to him. "And you guessed right, I’ve got an exceptionally pretty face.”

“Cocky too,” she purred, “there’s a special way I treat guys like you…”

Gojo hummed, switching his position so he was lying back against her pillows. Ami crawled her body over his lean torso, her hands rubbing up and down his thigh as she glanced in his direction.

“Oh, yeah? I would love to see how...” Gojo insisted, his breath growing heavy as she guided her hand all the way to his mouth.

She traced his bottom lip with her thumb, a devious mask highlighting her stunning features as she spoke, “Be a good boy and lie back while I take care of you…”

He fully caved, allowing this sultry siren to take control by touching and teasing his body however she pleased. Gojo usually enjoyed relinquishing his power every now and then but for whatever reason it was taking some effort for him to fully immerse himself with what was happening. Ami straddled his cock, before proceeding to press her mouth against his. Her lips were working fervently over his own as she deepened the kiss, but the spark that he needed just wasn’t igniting.

When Ami flicked her tongue over his, he would only think about the sensation of yours. The taste of you in his mouth lingered like an addictive poison. One that he craved every single time you crossed his mind. The sound of your moans played in his ear and the sweet way you called out his name when he touched you between your legs filtered his brain. He was only brought back to the reality that it wasn’t you pushing your body against his, when Ami wrapped her fingers around his throat. He tried to erase you and focus on the woman before him but was persistently failing.

She could see that something was off from how he was responding to her caresses. “Are you sure you're up for this tonight, baby?” Ami teased, whispering into his mouth as she snagged his bottom lip between her teeth. “You don’t seem ready for me...”

“Fuck…” Gojo grunted out of frustration, knocking his head back as he pressed his fingers to his temple. “It’s not you, I’m just distracted…”

“What’s on your mind?” she continued, stroking his broad chest lovingly to try and coax him out of the daze he was in.

“Not what...who…” he responded shyly, his cheeks blushing ever so slightly by his admittance.

“I see…” she cooed, “Wife? Girlfriend?”

Gojo scoffed, a comical laugh escaping him as he shook his head.

“Definitely not.”

Ami pressed her lips together, her nail doodling along his upper body with random figures as she continued to question her intriguing client.

“Tell me about her…”

Gojo froze, his hands digging into Ami’s thighs upon hearing her bold question, “she’s just a friend. There’s nothing to say...”

“Is she beautiful?”

“She’s gorgeous,” Gojo exhaled, his words passing his lips faster than he could process what he had just said. Ami tracked her hands down between her legs, stroking his boxers as she massaged his length.

“Tell me what she looks like…”

He described you in detail, from your sinfully sweet lips to the beautiful sound of your laughter and how soft your skin felt in his hands. She continued tricking him into revealing the intimate thoughts that swirled in his mind when he thought about you. She heard the way Gojo’s voice wavered as he swelled between her hands, the tip of his cock poking through his underwear as the pre-cum stained the material of his boxers. Ami pulled the clothing away from his hips, hands returning to grip his member as she continued stroking up and down his shaft.

“Do you think about fucking her with the other women you meet?”

“Yes,” Gojo revealed through gritted teeth, swallowing hard as she played with his tip by circling his thumb over the slit of his cock.

“How often?”

“Too often,” the sorcerer hissed, his hips bucking into her hands.

“I bet you wish you were fucking her right now, don’t you?”

She saw how turned on he is and how easily the thought of you brought him close to his release. Ami spread her legs, adjusting her stance until she brought the tip of his cock to her entrance. Gojo hesitated, knowing that he needed to stop what was about to happen. This wasn’t supposed to go this far. He was only here for a quick hand job or blowjob, but he couldn’t suppress a satisfied moan as she slid down to take in his length.

“F-fuck, wai-...”

“Shh, baby, close your eyes and think of your sweet angel…” Ami whispered in his ear, making Gojo roll his blue irises to the back of his head as he relaxed into her touch.

She didn’t speak after that, fulfilling her promise of taking care of him but also ensuring that his focus was solely on the mental image of you. The sound of her skin bouncing up and down his length took over the entire room. The way Ami stated that you were his was enough to send him over the edge and it didn’t take long until he climaxed at the thought, quickly pulling out of her and releasing hot ropes of cum all over her stomach but imagining that it was you the entire time. She immediately cleaned herself up after they finished, before giving Gojo some privacy and allowing him to get himself together.

After he got dressed, he pulled out his phone to transfer the payment. He doubled the amount he was supposed to give, totally aware that she didn’t reach her own release and was disappointed in himself that he couldn’t pleasure the remarkable temptress before him.

He slipped on his boots, his mind racing as the guilt rushed right through him. He hated that broke another rule, especially since this particular one was a boundary you set for your own comfort. He was angry at himself that he disrespected that and was annoyed for crossing the line in the first place.

What the fuck is wrong with me?, he thought to himself.

“I told you I don’t get paid for doing nothing. I don't accept money like that, not even from spoiled rich boys like you,” Ami stated, her words stung but she spoke in such a gentle tone that didn’t offend the sorcerer. She was leaning against the wall as she appeared before him, her body now covered with just a pink robe.

“You got me off but I did nothing to reciprocate. I tell all the other girls to charge double if that happens.”

“How considerate,” she mused before arching her brow in delight at him, “but for the sake of my own conscience I feel like I need to give you something in return…”

Gojo stood up from his seat, smoothing out his clothes before approaching her slowly. Even though he got what he wanted out of this arrangement, he was feeling worse about himself the longer he stayed in this room.

“How about a piece of advice before you leave and we can call it even?” Ami questioned.

“What is it?” the sorcerer wondered, hearing her feet patter against the carpet as she followed his footsteps to her front door.

She paused when she reached for the handle, before tilting her face and directing her full attention towards his covered eyes.

“Tell your friend how you feel or cut off whatever it is you’re doing. If you don’t tell her then you’re fucked, plain and simple.”

“Look, what happened just now doesn’t mean anything…”

She raised her fingers to his lips, stopping him from even attempting to defend what transpired.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re easy to read. I have had clients come here trying to forget their lovers and those who come to see me because they can’t resist their own primative urges. I see the ones who are lonely, who only visit me for companionship and nothing more. Then there are the ones who are like you, who will bury themselves in any cunt they see just to pretend that they aren’t in love with somebody else…”

Gojo clenched his jaw, squeezing his hands together as the heat rose up to his face.

“You don't know what you're talking about. Besides, wanting to fuck somebody and being in love are two very different things.”

“True, except those two things are tangled up in one person when it comes to you…”

Gojo pressed his lips into a thin line, unsure as to why her accusation made him so irritated.

“Awww, don’t get angry, pretty boy. It’s unbecoming for somebody as handsome as you are…” Ami whispered, before kissing him on the cheek as she said her goodbye. “It’s okay, I promise that your secret is safe with me…”

***

CHAPTER 14: JEALOUSY

#Gojo Satoru #Gojo Satoru x female reader #Gojo Satoru x reader #gojo x female reader #Gojo Satoru x female reader #Gojo Satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanficiton #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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quindolyn · 4 years ago

Note

plz write george smut thank you :)

Anytime || George Weasley

Word Count: 2,201

a/n: I’m so sorry this took me longer than I wanted it to finish. I’ve been pretty all over the place. I hope you like it! After this I’m getting out a Harry imagine I have requested in my inbox and then I’ll start writing whatever you guys vote for!

Warnings: daddy kink, quickie

Masterlist

It started out innocent. You swore it did, you never imagined that it would get this far, nor was that your intention.

It started off with you not noticing that the top couple buttons of your blouse had popped undone exposing a rather excessive amount of cleavage for the common room. Especially when it was flooded with a bunch of third and fourth years, many of whom were ogling you like they’d never seen a human woman before.

George was torn between giving you his coat to cover you from the less than respectful gazes targeted at you and using it to hide his erection.

Next it was crossing your legs in class when you sat next to him, revealing miles of your beautiful legs that he couldn’t help but drool over as your uniform skirt hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

Then it was brushing your fingers across his bicep when you were talking to him in class, or sometimes across his chest.

You had no clue how much you had been riling up your boyfriend over the last week or so. Now, it was sort of hard to miss the affect you had on him as evidence of such in the form of his hardening cock was pressed into your back.

“Georgie?” You craned your head to gaze up at him, blinking owlishly as he stared down at you, practically salivating at the mere sight of you.

You were shocked when he basically growled at you, in hindsight, what you were wearing may have been a little much for a party in the Ravenclaw common room but most of the other girls in attendance were just as dressed up. You all were all young and attractive, why not go all out for the last party of the year?

In a slinky, white slip dress, that could’ve easily passed as modest lingerie you had every eye in the room on you. Some envious, most not as respectful as they probably ought to be, and one pair completely eye fucking you as he was torn between falling to your feet and worshipping you like the goddess you were and pulling you into a broom closet where he would punish you for wearing such provocative clothing. It was too much, all of the teasing, whether or not it was intentional, and now this.

George was desperate, he needed you.

“George?” You called out his name again as he looped his arm along your waist, pulling you into his side as he guided you out of the crowded, smoky room and into the empty corridor directly outside of it.

You were tense, he’d barely said a word all night since you’d met him outside the Ravenclaw common room, and he wasn’t saying anything now either. Which led you to the question, what was wrong with him?

All you received in response was a grunt as he tried to pull you along with him, but your legs were no match for his much longer ones, getting frustrated with the miniscule progress the two of you were making he paused, accessing your figure before huffing and picking you up. It all happened so quickly that you barely had time to squeal as he threw you over his shoulder as though you weighed nothing before he strode off down the corridor.

Your attempts to track where you were going were futile as you lost track somewhere between the third left and second right.

What you didn’t miss, what you couldn’t have missed, was the straining erection pressing against the crotch of his pants.

His off putting silence continued as he sat you down on the ground, rather harshly if you may add, especially considering the sinfully tall stilettos strapped to your feet.

“God George, do you think you could be a little bit more careful? I-”

You were cut off as George took your face in his hand, pressing your cheeks together just enough to make your lips puff out in an exaggerated pout.

“You really wanna take that tone with me Darling? After this past week?”

“What are you talking about George? What did I do?” Your voice was muffled as you tried to speak with his hand, not lightening its grasp on your face.

He cocked his head to the side, his gaze dragging up and down your body before returning to your flushed face, “You really don’t know do you?” His voice was hoarse as he spoke, conveying the arousal thrumming through his veins.

You shook your head, indicating that you indeed had no clue as to what he was talking about.

“Oh poppet,” He cooed, brushing a piece of hair out of your face, tucking it delicately behind your ear, “You really are that innocent aren’t you? S’just everything about you, drives me insane, the way your skirt rides up your thighs, how you brush your fingers against my arm, fuck this dress you’re wearing.”

Your gaze followed his as it dropped to your body, ample amounts of heaving cleavage visible from the low cut of the dress, the hem riding up dangerously high, just as he had described your skirt doing.

“You’ve had me painfully hard for you (Y/N),” He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as if it was oxygen and he was stranded at the bottom of the ocean, “Need you, need you now.”

“Need you too George,” You moaned, tangling your fingers in his soft hair, pulling slightly to tip back his head and allow you to mesh your lips with his in a slow, sensual kiss. Nothing was rushed as his tongue slipped from his mouth into yours, exploring the cavity of your mouth.

Flicking your tongue with his he slid his hands under the hem of your dress, letting his fingers slide up the backs of your thighs until they grazed against the swell of your bum. Your bare bum.

“No panties angel?” He practically moaned as he brought your skirt up around your waist, revealing your bare ass and cunt to the chilly air of the seemingly abandoned broom closet.

“Every pair I have you could see through my dress Daddy,” You whined, suppressing a shiver as your new level of exposure.

“So you decided to go without them,” George asked you, condescension dripping from his voice as he cocked his head to the side, gazing down at you as he towered over your frame, “Gonna be the death of me bunny.”

George pulled down the thin straps of your dress, revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra either, the silk ivory fabric bunching around your waist.

“Fuck,” He swore pinching your nipples with the rough pads of his fingers before bending down to capture one of your hard buds inbetween his teeth, rolling it gently before sucking, not hard enough to mark, but enough to have you gasping.

You threw your head back at the sensation, your mouth left gaping at the immense pleasure and before you knew it George had his hands underneath your thighs, supporting you as he pushed you against the door of the room.

His large hands guided your legs around his waist, there your ankles criss crossed, locking you against his body. Your small, nimble fingers quickly found their way to the zipper of his jeans, unzipping them so you could pull both them and his boxers down just enough to bring out his throbbing cock.

He’d been hard the instant he saw you, dealing with his throbbing member all night hadn’t exactly been easy and now that you were here, pressed up against a wall, basically naked, needy for him. George couldn’t deny himself any longer.

A pathetic whimper left your mouth as he brushed the head of his cock through your folds, once, then twice before he fully sheathed himself inside of you. Not taking the time to work in his impressive length inch by inch, he’d been more than patient, he deserved to get to make you feel good.

“Daddy!” You screamed as the tip of his prick brushed at a spot deep inside of you, making you feel deliciously full.

George clamped his hand over your mouth, his gaze boring into yours, “Gotta keep quiet for me bunny, can’t have anyone finding us like this, can’t have them knowing that I can’t go more than an hour without needing to be inside of you.”

You nodded your head, his hand still clasped around your mouth.

“Can you do that for me baby?” He asked, still not moving inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Yes Daddy,” You answered as he pulled his hand from your mouth, instead using it to stabilize himself against the wall, “Please Daddy, move, need you to move.”

“Okay pretty girl,” He smiled as he began to pull out before harshly thrusting back into you, making you arch your back against the splintering wood of the door.

Your hands grappled for the hair at the nape of his neck to ground yourself to him as he thrusted into you, his strokes were deep and quick. There was an urgency in his motions no doubt fueled by the fact that someone could walk by you guys at any time and become curious as to what was making all of that noise.

Pushing your hips down, you tried to meet his thrusts as he pushed himself up into you, “Want it Daddy, making me feel so good,” You whimpered, clenching your eyes closed as the knot forming in your stomach tightened, slowly but surely as wave after wave of pleasure ripple through your body.

Readjusting his grasp on you George thrusted in particularly harshly, prodding at your g-spot over and over again as he observed how well you reacted to his movements.

Knowing that there was no way he was going to last long, not after the week of torture and night of constant temptation he brought one of his hands down to work your clit. Finding it instantly he began tracing figure eights against it, reveling in the way you writhed against him.

“You gonna cum bunny?” He smiled, speeding up the pace of fingers, “You gonna cum all over Daddy’s fingers? Make a mess for me?”

“Yes Daddy,” You whined, trying to match the volume of his voice, not wanting to be too loud, “Yes Daddy please can I cum?”

Deciding he was feeling benevolent he nodded down at you, pinching his fingers around your delicate bundle of nerves sending you careening over the edge of pleasure.

You didn’t know if you stayed quiet as you should’ve because the ecstasy that overtook you was all consuming, blotting out your vision, as your legs tightened around George’s waist. It was like you blacked out, all you could focus on, all you could feel was the knot in your stomach unraveling, leaving you a moaning, quivering mess.

If it weren’t for the throaty grunts he released as he came inside of you, rope after rope of cum painting the inside of your cunt, but his noises grounded you, bringing you back to the musty little closet.

Taking a minute to collect himself George brushed his chapped lips across your brow before slowly pulling out of you and tucking his softening member back into his pants.

Setting you don’t gingerly on the floor he pulled the skirt of your dress down so that it was once again covering your bum before he pulled the delicate straps of the dress back up your shoulders.

“There we go poppet,” He murmured, eyes raking over you, not in the ravenous manner they had earlier but with a distinctly George tenderness, making sure you were properly covered and okay, “Let’s get you up to my dorm, yeah?”

“But the party-” You began before he cut you off.

“Nope, don’t gotta worry about the party, need to get you cleaned up pretty girl.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, peering up at him, unable not to feel just a little guilty that you were the reason George wouldn’t get to go back and celebrate with his friends.

“Of course I am (Y/N),” His hand found its way under your jaw, tilting your face upwards so that his lips could meet yours, “Not even a question.”

Before you could protest any further he was lifting you into his arms, one supporting beneath your bum, the other under your back. You took the opportunity to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as he stepped out of the closet with you in his arms.

No matter how hard you tried to resist it, you were no match for the rhythm caused by his walking as he carried you up to his dorm, being lulled to sleep against your own will. Not wanting to fall asleep before you could say something to him you yawned, “Thank you Georgie, made me feel so good.”

Though you couldn’t see it, a gentle smile tugged at the man’s lips as he gazed down at you, clinging to him as you snuggled further into his arms. “Anytime, love. Anytime at all.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter imagine #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #George Weasley fanfic #George Weasley fan fiction #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n

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lambden · 3 years ago

Text

What better way to break in a new blog than by immediately posting fic? In honour of Nightmare of the Wolf, here’s some Vesemir and Filavandrel!

(read on AO3)

M, 2.9K words, no warnings, Vesemir recognizes Jaskier’s lute when he arrives at Kaer Morhen

Vesemir has been expecting this day for decades. It’s rare for witchers to meet a trusted companion out on the Path, and even rarer to find one who wishes to travel alongside them. But the reputation of witchers has changed in recent years, for better or worse. Their focus is no longer on maintaining the traditional practices of their schools, but on protection— of other witchers, and of helpless commoners. Perhaps the humans can sense that change.

More curiously, the folklore surrounding witchers has changed. Vesemir very badly wants to meet the man who has done so much to change the narrative, but years pass and all Geralt brings home every winter are stories. The younger witchers entertain (and tease) him but no one ever asks where the bard goes during the cold months that Geralt spends at Kaer Morhen. Perhaps even Geralt doesn’t know.

Finally, after hundreds of stories of Geralt-and-Dandelion, Vesemir receives a letter one autumn before he himself has even considered the journey home. His chest warms as he reads Geralt’s careful penmanship, noting how the ink blots at the start of each new sentence. The paper and wax are fine, suggesting that Jaskier used his academic connections to perhaps land Geralt a few contracts near Oxenfurt. Geralt’s lettering may be nearly flawless but his message is stilted, reminding Vesemir of when his pups were nervous children. Does Jaskier really make him act this awkward? Their relationship must be serious, then.

I am hoping you will welcome my guest with open arms, or I fear he may freeze over the coming months. Vesemir looks for a signature but there is none, save a very fancy G at the bottom. No returning address has been provided either, and while he could easily pen a missive to Oxenfurt, it’s probably best not to respond. Each day Nilfgaard only grows stronger, and crueler. Perhaps Jaskier has been caught up in their hunger for power. Vesemir folds the letter up and hides it in his saddlebag.

When the frost begins creeping in, the oldest Wolf begins his trek up the mountain. He’s almost always the first one to arrive; Coën had beaten him to it once and apologized for weeks, and Vesemir would do anything to avoid that again. And if he makes an effort to arrive early this year so that he can make the Keep look as important as it is, well… nobody needs to know.

It takes a week and a half before Geralt arrives, Jaskier in tow. Vesemir spends the time flushing out a bat infestation and dealing with the most perishable of his spoils from the past year. The White Wolf seems to bring the cold with him most years but Vesemir, cognizant of Jaskier’s inferior body, made sure to set out enough furs in advance. As soon as he hears Roach’s hooves approaching he starts a roaring fire, and when the inner doors of Kaer Morhen burst open, Vesemir is ready to make a great first impression.

Upon seeing him, Geralt smiles right away, crossing the room to greet him. Vesemir looks him over; no obvious new scars, no missing body parts. Must have been an uneventful year, but… Geralt is here, safe and alive, so Vesemir allows himself some private, selfish, unwitcherly joy. It’s the sort of thing Deglan would have lectured him for. He finds he doesn’t care.

“I got your letter,” he tells Geralt, who nods solemnly. “I thought it best not to reply. Is Nilfgaard on your trail?”

“Our trail,” Geralt sighs, stepping aside so that Vesemir can meet his companion. “Vesemir, this is Jaskier.”

The bard, dwarfed by a large fur coat, moves forward so that Vesemir can properly scrutinize him. He certainly doesn’t look his age, but Vesemir knows he’s travelled as far as any witcher has gone, and seen sights no human should really have witnessed. “Oh, I’ve heard plenty about you, Jaskier. I was wondering when Geralt was finally going to bring you along for the winter!” That makes Jaskier perk up, and Vesemir chuckles. “I promise that no harm will come to you here.”

“Thank you,” Jaskier says. “Geralt doesn’t like sharing much about the other witchers, but I’m sure you must have a wealth of stories for me to hear!” Sure enough, Geralt frowns. “And I don’t know how much help I’ll be with hunting or gathering, but I would be happy to regale you on the coldest nights—”

And before Vesemir can read into that unfortunate phrasing, Jaskier shrugs off his fur coat to produce a lute. He must have been wearing it strapped around his front on the journey through the mountains, not wanting to condemn such a fine instrument to being jostled around in Roach’s saddlebags. Vesemir squints at the red-brown wood and the golden details under the strings. They almost look like a particular elven design.

Oh. Vesemir’s realization nearly bowls him over. Geralt and Jaskier stare at him, respectively concerned and curious, but Vesemir can’t take his eyes off the lute. “My apologies, I… I forgot something in my chamber. Make yourselves at home, and… I’ll leave you to it.” He leaves without any further explanation, hastening to his quarters and abandoning the pair of them to their own devices. He can still feel their gazes drilling into his back but he suddenly feels weaker than usual.

---

“I heard there was a witcher skulking around this forest,” the spy says. Vesemir is almost relieved to hear them speak; he’s been glancing over his shoulder for nearly an hour now to try and reveal an invisible pursuer. He should’ve known he was right. Just because the spy doesn’t lumber like a human or reek of magic like a monster doesn’t mean he won’t be in trouble.

He stops in the middle of the path, still facing forward. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the second he turns, a very unfriendly knife is going to introduce itself to his ribcage. Or perhaps an arrow, although he hasn’t heard the sound of anything and he’s been listening very closely.

His pursuer approaches. Fuck, they’re light on their feet. If Vesemir was just an average bandit, he’d be done for. He braces himself for an attack, balling his hands up into fists at his sides. The stranger continues, tone still pleasant enough, “Why not stay in town? A warm bed must beat trudging through mud in the early hours of the morning trying to find ground. I’ll give you some advice, witcher; there’s no dry ground. You’re heading towards a swamp.”

“They wouldn’t let me stay in town,” Vesemir admits, already grumpy. He whirls around and sees the stranger; a lean man, just slightly shorter than him. The long hood of their cloak casts a dark shadow over their face, blocking them from view. “If you’re here to rob me, I hate to disappoint, but you’ve followed me all this way for nothing.”

He holds up his empty coinpurse; not to prove himself, just to complain. The stranger titters, a lovely, high-pitched sound like glass clinking against glass, like chimes. Like birdsong. Vesemir’s eyes narrow. “That’s a shame,” they say. “You do love coin.”

There’s something disturbingly familiar about the words. Vesemir decides to gamble with his own life, stalking forward until he’s face to face with the stranger. Up close, his scent is even stronger. Frowning, Vesemir is about to reveal the man’s identity when he does it himself, pushing his hood back. His hair is tied up in complex braids unlike any Vesemir has ever seen, only a few loose strands hanging down over his forehead. But it would take more than a lifetime for Vesemir to forget that face.

“Fil,” he declares, delighted, and doesn’t think twice before crashing into the elf. Filavandrel laughs again and though it makes Vesemir feel a little silly, the sound still fills his heart with joy. He embraces his friend tightly, clinging to him for so long that both their boots sink down into the flooded dark soil of the forest. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s like I told you.” The elf pats the back of Vesemir’s neck, unwittingly sending a shiver down his spine. Vesemir’s grip tightens. “My scouts said I might find a witcher lost in the woods.”

“I’m not lost,” Vesemir grunts, finally pulling away. “I just… don’t know where I’m going.”

“Come to my camp,” suggests Filavandrel. As if he even had to ask.

Unsurprisingly, elves make their camps much differently than witchers do. When they arrive Vesemir doesn’t immediately see any sort of bedroll, and then he feels embarrassed for looking. He never feels this way around anyone else; he can make bawdy jokes with Sven or blatantly hit on Luka, but in the company of Filavandrel aén Fidháil, shame bursts through him so easily.

Maybe he just has a thing for pretty blondes who he leaves behind.

Except Fil is here, smiling indulgently as Vesemir gapes like a fool. “It’s nice,” he finally manages to say. “Want me to set a fire?”

“A campfire, sure. Not a big one,” Filavandrel teases. Swallowing, Vesemir turns to a firepit that the elf must have fashioned himself. He takes a bundle of wood that’s already been cut and easily ignites it, all the while trying to figure out why his heart is pounding so damn loud. Thank fuck that Filavandrel isn’t a witcher.

“Have you eaten?”

“No. You?”

“I was going to have some bread, and go hunting in the morning.” There’s a small noise and when Vesemir turns to look, his friend is holding out a large chunk of bread. It doesn’t even look that stale. Vesemir sees that Filavandrel has taken a much smaller piece for himself and growls about it, but the elf snatches the smaller piece away before Vesemir can lunge for it. “I don’t want to hear any self-sacrificial bullshit about how witchers don’t need to eat. Take the damn bread, Ves.”

“... Fine,” Vesemir relents, cowed. He accepts the bread, fingertips accidentally brushing over Filavandrel’s when he takes it. It’s fucking delicious, melting in his mouth almost instantly. Seeds and herbs have been baked into it too, and Vesemir savours every bite, moaning. “You should quit being a professional elf and start a new life as a baker, fuck.”

“I can do both. It’s an old recipe, needs a stone oven. And what does being a professional elf even mean?” Filavandrel reaches up to shove him, except they aren’t very far away from each other so the push nearly knocks Vesemir off his balance. Before he can tip over onto the grass Filavandrel grabs him by the collar of his gambeson and tugs him back, and, well. Vesemir may be a witcher, but parts of him are still human.

Neither of them has to say a word; he opens for Filavandrel like he’s been thinking of nothing but this since the second they laid eyes on each other. Honestly, he sort of has. Fil runs a hand over the shaved part of his head, pressing his palm against the back of his neck to pull him in closer. Vesemir moans, chasing the taste of something sweet and acidic and magic. It certainly isn’t the fucking bread.

Afterwards they lie together by the smoldering remains of the fire, both too spent to clean themselves or dress. Vesemir glances over at the cinders and thinks about making an exit soon. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to stay with Filavandrel. He’s comfortable here, especially right now, and his friend always makes his heart feel lighter. But the Path calls to him; lying here without his weapons or armour, Vesemir can nearly hear Deglan’s scolding. And that thought is enough to ruin anyone’s afterglow.

Before he can move, Filavandrel sits up, arching his back. Vesemir turns to watch him, nearly salivating at how he looks in the low firelight. His hair is radiant, and his skin isn’t nearly flushed enough. He’s beautiful. Ethereal. Selfishly, Vesemir wishes that he’d left more marks.

Fil climbs to his feet and crosses the campsite to retrieve something out of reach. Vesemir cranes his neck to try and peek, and Filavandrel laughs kindly at him. “I was just thinking that something’s missing.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Vesemir says, lowering his head back down onto the ground. “I should have kissed you more.”

The elf pauses at that before finally demanding, “Kiss me later.” A note resounds through the air, clear and beautiful; then a chord, and another. Very soon their little clearing feels more like a fairy circle than a campground as Filavandrel plays music.

He finally walks into view, still naked, still beautiful. Now holding a lute. Vesemir tries to sit up so that he can properly see the performance but Filavandrel is faster, moving over him and then sitting atop his stomach, resting his back against Vesemir’s thighs. He plays the entire time, fingers moving adeptly over the instrument.

It’s a beautiful lute, probably made of some holy dark red wood. The golden design etched into it is mesmerizing, and the strings could have been plucked from the mane of a unicorn. Vesemir hardly spares it any attention, too wrapped up in the sight of a naked Filavandrel straddling him and singing.

He’ll only realize decades later that the elf was probably trying to court him.

Someone knocks on the door to his chambers and Vesemir jumps to his feet, caught off-guard by the sound that plucked him from his memories. He finds Jaskier waiting outside his room, toying idly with the sleeves of his doublet. Vesemir shakes his head, holding the door open for Jaskier even as he apologizes. “I’m sorry for running out earlier. I meant to give you a tour of the Keep, hopefully Geralt will have stepped up in my absence, but I am sorry—”

“No— please,” Jaskier interrupts. Once more he pulls his lute from around himself, holding it out to Vesemir. “I just… Your countenance changed dramatically upon seeing this, so…”

Fuck. “Yes,” Vesemir sighs, staring at the lute. Jaskier has managed to keep it in good condition after all this time. “I… Filavandrel and I are old friends.”

The bard’s eyes bulge out of his head but he enters Vesemir’s chambers, heading straight to the desk to perch on the edge of the chair. Vesemir finds another chair for himself, moving its previous occupant— a stack of books— onto the floor. In his defence, he hadn’t expected the tour of Kaer Morhen to begin in his personal chambers.

“He didn’t mention knowing any other witchers,” Jaskier hums. “How did you meet him?”

“You’re sure you want to know? It’s sort of a long story.” The bard just nods, eager and polite. Instantly Vesemir can see why Geralt likes him. “Alright,” he obliges, reaching for the bottle of wine on the desk. They’re going to need it. “We met long before you would have been born…”

---

South of Kaedwen, the seasons are more aligned than any other part of the Continent. The winters are crisp, the summers lazy. Filavandrel likes to spend his summers here, where the canopy of trees is thick enough to provide shade but thin enough to provide colour. Everything is verdant, the flowers calling to him as he passes each one. When he was a child he had longed to visit towns and experience human delights like festivals but now he knows better. The elves live off the land well enough anyway.

Some of the younger people in his company these days have that same yearning, and some of them even manage it. One elf who resembles Toruviel always runs off to see some different show, take in some new performance. If Filavandrel thought that she could get away with it, he would pay for her to attend Oxenfurt— she’s very good. And the upside of her risking her life just to listen to music is that she’s got a very good memory, and she always brings the songs back home.

Today she’s singing some new ode to a witcher; not that bigoted anthem of lies that the bastard warbler from Posada somehow spread through the Continent, thank the Gods. This one seems to revolve more around making the right choice, and how a real hero does good deeds not for coin or his own profit, but just to be good. Filavandrel thinks about the few witchers that he’s had the misfortune of contacting over the years, and under his breath he scoffs.

Cheesy chorus aside, the lyrics seem to have some merit. The first verse is all about some terrible monster that was taking young girls, transforming them into half-beasts. The hero witcher’s judgement fails him and he blames himself for years, even losing a lover in the process. Filavandrel scowls; despite his own experiences with witches, he doesn’t want to listen to a song written by yet another prejudiced bard.

Then the third verse lands. The witcher grows old and wise and has children of his own, and he regrets his inaction and he tries to reach out to contact his lover. But at that point his lover, who devoted his life to protecting those in danger, was too busy being King of the Silver Towers. Filavandrel stops dead in his tracks as he realizes which witcher this must have been inspired by.

The elven king huffs, starting to compose a route in his head. He thinks a trip up north is long overdue.

#vesemir #filavandrel #nightmare of the wolf #the witcher nightmare of the wolf #geraskier fic #my writing #hey did anyone else see young vesemir talking to his friend fil in the bath and think we were gonna get a Bath Scene Part Two: The Remix?

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spilledkauffie · 5 years ago

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In Your Dreams

Repost from an old account I deleted!!!

Pairing: Charles Xavier x reader (mutant) AU: first class era Word Count: 2.0k T/W: a little flirty A/N: the reader’s power is controlling water!

A hazy start, first a bright light then… a calm. Shifting onto your back, you groaned a little while squinting your eyes at the illumination flooding your pupils. It didn’t take long for you to sit up, curious as to where you were instantly. You felt your hands almost sink, only ever so slightly though you were quick to retreat them. Observing the terrain beneath you, you picked up a handful and watched it slip through your fingers. Beautiful pure sand, falling from your palm. The sound of distant seagulls came next, until it was quiet. Quiet enough to hear your own breathing. Momentarily you felt alone. Picking yourself up, you stood slowly, still unsure of your surroundings. It wasn’t a familiar place and it didn’t seem dangerous, you drew obvious speculations. Making the decision to walk around, you found several sporadically placed seashells along the path your foot prints made in the moldable sand.

“Oh,” you gasped, happily stepping toward a gorgeously coloured shell.

Taking it gently in your hands, you rubbed your thumbs across the surface, revealing a chrome-like coat to the shell. Smiling, you rather enjoyed the peacefulness of, well, wherever you were. Continuing your collection, you lost track of time, never really sure what time it had been to begin with. A breeze came about, fluffing your hair and rosing your cheeks. Closing your eyes, you breathed deeply. Such a calm had long escaped your life. Always on the run, hiding, being scared of what would happen… all those thoughts faded, as if they never even existed. A graceful smile spread across your lips, simply standing happily with the sand between your toes and seashells in hand. The sun was warm, but not too hot. The trees that were rustling in the wind provided shade. And the ocean’s waves-

Stopping your cleansing inhale, you opened your eyes ploddingly, “oh...”

Another bright, soft light and you found yourself batting your eyelashes. Adjusting to a morning glow of sunlight. This time you knew exactly where you were. Glass windows, a dark wooden room, soft sheets and careful, tender circles being stroked against the temple of your forehead by loving fingertips. Shifting onto your opposite side, you opened your eyes, the loss of physical contact wasn’t ideal, but now you could see him. Sitting next to you in bed, book in hand and back against the headboard, his hand hovered over your temple. Gazing upward, you waited until his mind told him you were up before he glanced downward.

“Good morning,” Charles smiled, voice as tranquil as ever, while he took to stroking your hair, “sleep alright, Love?”

“You know,” you sighed, shifting, “I’ve never had a dream about water, despite being able to control it.”

Raising an eyebrow, you were telling him just how aware you were of him giving you a good dream the very night after you told him you often had nightmares. You heard a soft chuckle, watching him bite his lip and furrow his eyebrows next, as he looked you over. In cases like these you desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. Instead you met his insatiable blue eyes, adoring how they reminded you of crystal clear water, a calm you seldom saw within yourself.

“Wait, so, you’re-are you telling me that you’ve never dreamt of water, in any case at all?” Charles closed the book in his hand and turned to see you better.

“Never,” you admitted, observing how he smiled widely following your answer.

Though unsure why he was so happy, you smiled back. Leaning in, closer to you, Charles shook his head with amazement, slipping his hand down from your hair to rest against the side of your neck endearingly.

“Do you realise that your subconscious not acknowledging your conscious power directly could be able to explain where specific mutations lay in the chambers of the mind?”

He trailed off on some scientific explanation and you tried your best to listen, but when he talked so excitedly and intelligently, it was difficult to pay attention. There was something terribly attractive about it. The placement of his hand wasn’t helping either, you felt his finger tips move when he began explaining certain terms excitedly, sending a shiver throughout your skin.

“Insanely informational and so very fascinating. A very groovy mutation,” Charles said with a pause and a look that could stop your heart. He straightening up to lean back against the headboard, “I wonder.”

Removing his hands from you, he picked up another book from the pile he always kept on his side of the bed. Dropping your shoulders, you were hoping he’d pick up on your thoughts. He wasn’t the very best with romance, but you really weren’t asking for much, just a little flirting maybe a kiss, anything. Being so busy with the X-men training, you wanted some form of affection to take place. Knowing you might have to be the first to engage, you did. He’d catch on the instant he grasped the concept it just took a push when he was preoccupied.

“You know I love it when you talk like that,�� you smiled, musing your voice.

“Talk like what?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the pages he flipped through.

“I think you know,” you tilted your head, lifting yourself up, allowing the sheets to gracefully cascade down your body, folding at your waist, exposing the beauty of your skin.

“I- what, when,” he stuttered, taking a few looks up from his book, attempting to subtly scan your frame.

“Though I’m sure you’re much too busy with work and the team,” you sighed playfully, hoping to draw his attention in, “I know you don’t have much time for, well, other things.”

Combing your hands through your hair, you worked out the tangles, carefully. Charles watched as your perfectly messied hair fell smoothly. It lead his eyes to your bare neck and shoulders, temptingly. The way your skin managed to slightly glisten from the morning sunlight dancing about the room was undeniably stunning.Your eyelashes fluffed with every seductive bat you gave them.

“Depends on what sort of things,” he placed the book aside, noting the smile that spread across your lips and the thought that ran through your mind.

Biting your lip and containing a giggle, you drug your hand up his thigh teasingly, while closing the distance between the two of you, “why don’t you read my mind?”

A polite smirk and chuckle was all you received before feeling his hand grace your skin, making you blush at the softness he always touched you with. Batting your eyelashes, you closed your eyes again, this time lips finally being met by his. It was gentle, yet deep and oh so adoring. It amazed you at truly how talented he was at making you swoon so easily. Rather enjoying the kiss, you leaned forward when he pulled back, in hopes of bringing him back into the kiss.

“Oh, Darling,” Charles whispered almost empathetically, lips moving against the corner of yours, “I’ve pictured that so many times.”

Your lips parted subconsciously, he truly was diving into your thoughts, even those thoughts. The stroke of his fingertips against your temple soon turned to him spreading his fingers through your hair. Breath hitching, you felt your heartbeat increase. His other hand ghosted down your rib cage, to your navel, settling at your hips.

“Except, how about this time you call me Professor?”

Biting your lip again and curling your toes a little you smiled, happy with the direction the situation was headed, “hmm, Ch-“

“Kinky,” a voice from the doorway chimed in, making you grab the sheets to hold tightly against your body, “and of all people I least expected you.”

“Well, we all have learning to do about each other,” Charles played it off calmly, sure to erase the memory from Erik’s mind at a later time, “you most of all should know kinky.”

Seeing a slight flinch in Erik, you smirked.

“And this is something I suggest you don’t get between,” you glared towards Erik.

“What’re you going to do?” Erik raised an eyebrow with a quiet scoff, “drain my bath water?”

“No,” you perked an annoyed eyebrow yourself, “but humans are sixty percent water...I’m sure I could think of something creative.”

Dipping his head Charles refrained from showing his amusement, not wanting to aggravate anyone: he opted to play the peacekeeper as per usual. Reaching to hold your hand, he looked over to Erik, who was now clearly unamused with the whole situation.

“We’ll be down in a few minutes, I promise,” he nodded, “kindly make sure everyone else is down, please, Erik?”

A reluctant, but accepting nod was returned before Erik left. Still staring the direction of the doorway, you were brought back to the prior mood by a hand rubbing up and down your arm. Tilting your head, you sighed, proceeding to straddle his lap. Charles set his hand on either side of your hips, looking up curious as to what you were playing at. Setting your arms atop his shoulders you got lost for a moment in his ocean eyes.

“Are we ever going to get a moment alone in this place?” You asked seriously, aware of the school he wanted to create from the mansion.

“Of course,” he chuckled in response, before noticing your demeanour.

You didn’t smile or laugh, you just looked away and dropped your shoulders. You knew he would ask, so you spoke.

“I just feel like we never have time,” you shrugged, “we can’t stay in bed, or go to dinner by ourselves, or...other things. Not without other people constantly being around us here.”

Bouncing you slightly, he drew back your attention with a smile and his hands studying the curve of your back. He loved how romantic you were trying to be, and that you were expressing emotions with him, no mind telepathy involved. But you were right, it was going to be very busy and very taxing soon with the team and future students. He always pictured you by his side through it all though. The chance of losing you always frightened him, even though he could see there wasn’t even a hint of doubt in your mind for your love.

He stayed silent, keen to listen to you continue, “I just- I just want a moment. One moment, just with you.”

“We’ll have several more,” he said sincerely, “I promise you that, Love.”

Filing through your thoughts subtly, he found images and ideas of the two of you in the future that you had thought up, even with the school he wanted. You were by his side and he by yours, always. There were several different versions where you wore a sparkling ring on your left hand in those ideas, which he much appreciated; a smile pulling at his lips when he saw those images, every time.

Seeing how your iris’ sparkled in the sunlight, as you looked toward the window made him fall more in love with you by the moment. It wasn’t something he was used to, but now he never wanted to lose it. You were the one person that let him in completely, you didn’t want to hide anything, as most people did. You wanted him to feel free to use his power just as much as he encouraged you to. His heart practically stopped the moment you turned back to him.

“I swear you are ethereal,” Charles whispered, brushing his fingertips against your cheek, watching your smile reappear.

“Stop using fancy words I don’t know to turn me on,” you raised an eyebrow, happy with the intimate proximity, “especially when you’ve just made a promise.”

A soft chuckle came before his explanation, “it’s an adjective, of which means delicate to the point of appearing not to be of this world, in other words: heavenly.”

Rolling your eyes, you hardly thought of yourself as heavenly, but you smile nonetheless just hearing him call you that, “maybe in my dreams you could make me.”

“I can make a lot happen in your dreams,” Charles winked with a charming expression, “and...I’ll make them come true. That’s a promise.”

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lucidpantone · 3 years ago

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Preview: The three sided king

Yes I am still writing this fic and this chapter is almost done. Its super long chapter but here is a preview.

Incase you need to a recap of where we left off: Published Chapters

Aquarias 1470

He is standing on the axis.

Barely visible between the white florets.

It’s soothing on the inside.

Like a concentrated dosage of vitamins and minerals.

The walls surrounding him are lacquered in a mint hue. Cool and expressive, a pigment rumored to remove free radicals from his interior.

The south wing of the palace seemed to suffice.

The Duke’s quarters were generous and ample. For all the Duke’s pomp and circumstance he actually required very little to live comfortably. He had only one request and that his chamber be adorned with white flowers at all times to quench his need to bring beauty to life via his skills on parchment.

Drawing was the only therapy that would help elucidate the Duke’s mind. It would bend time and submerge his troubled thoughts into a state of calm and as he sat in his quarters trying to unravel the enigma that caught him off guard; time got lost like a billow in a breeze and before he knew it a portrait of the prince of swords was looking back at him. Within seconds after laying eyes on the prince he had become the antioxidant for the duke’s deteriorating soul; an unforeseen remedy wrapped up in a beautiful creature with hickory ringlets that fell perfectly past his shoulders and a chocolate gaze complimented by perfectly placed laugh lines.

It’s hard to forget the moment he laid eyes on him. The smell of rain had just smacked him across the chest as he rushed up the stairs to the rotunda. The rate at which the heavens spilled their tears onto the palace courtyard matched the virago of the many scorned women Sander had left behind. As Sander greeted the Duke of Burgundy and his wife the rain began to whip around like a serpent dancing to a siren’s song and thunderclaps began to roll tide across the grey sky.A lightning fork lit up their drop back like an ominous foretelling of their preordained future but in that moment he first caught a glimpse of him and his center of gravity shifted.

His bride-to-be Mary of Burgundy had stepped forward to curtsy for her lord, revealing the prince hidden by her side. Sander instantly fixated on him. The prince had locked his gaze onto the ground. Focusing on something Sander could not see. Sander was in dire need to see every inch of his chiseled features. Sander was discreet in trying to move his gaze from Mary to the prince but he was suddenly nervy and his suave demeanor broke for a matter of seconds when he fumbled out a high pitch overly zealous greeting, "The Prince of Swords. It's nice to make your acquaintance".

The prince broke thought and looked up at Sander with a curious expression. The prince was nothing like Sander imagined him to be. He was a living cypher. A being in need of decoding. A walking enigma. His features were tender and his eyes warm but also hard edged. The initial flicker of warmth the prince had radiated seconds before was quickly replaced by a glacial facade. The prince was cool and collected, beautiful but stone like but one thing was certain the Prince of swords was no brut he was a man capable of dancing on a knife's edge, conquering a nation, riding into battle and becoming a champion. He was much more compact than Sander had expected but in possession of a noticeably stealthy physique. Sander and the prince both got lost in each other’s gaze for a prolonged second as they shook hands when the prince’s father, the Duke of Burgundy, broke the occasion.

“Here, here. I see you have met my son, the prince of swords”

Sander threw the prince a soft smile before breaking his gaze and looking towards the fast approaching Duke Of Burgundy.

“Yes, yes I have my lord”

“Be careful with that one. I know he doesn’t look like much but blink too slow and he’ll have the dagger of Burgundy at your throat.”

As the Duke of Burgundy positioned himself horizontally to Sander’s right shoulder he preemptively began to move Sander towards the long line of courtiers waiting to introduce themselves to him with their high born titles.

Sander took two steps forward alongside the Duke but then paused and quickly turned back and headed back to prince.

It was practically a whisper, the first of many that they would exchange as Sander cloaked their exchange with a secondary handshake and said softly.

“Sander, by the way”

Robbe’s eyes grew wide and his mouth opened a bit in shock as he knew it was uncommon for Duke’s of Sander status to exchange such pleasantries amongst those unknown to their court but he reacted quickly as to not offend the Duke and matched his lords volume.

“Robbe” he sighed out softly.

Sander smiled and in that split second he saw it again. The warmth Robbe had been hiding from the rest of the world.

Sander snapped out of his memories and was back in his quarters surrounded by the mint hues as he heard his chambers doors being pried open.

He quickly stood up off his chair and discarded his parchment and charcoal on it.

As he walked towards the door he recognized the voice on the other side.

Charles’s voice was animating through the chamber doors as rambunctious and cavalier as always as he strolled into Sander’s hideaway.

“My lord---” Charles interrupted Sander with a palm up salute.

“I told you to call me Senne. That’s what my family calls me and you're soon to be family right?”

Sander threw Senne a half baked smile as validation and proceeded to appease his request.

“Of course, Senne.”

Senne clapped his hands together enthusiastically signaling his entourage to show Sander what he came here for.

“Ahhhh… I brought you something for tonight”, Senne called over one of his servants.

The servant laid down a strange looking object on Sander’s bed. As Sander examined it he found it quite a peculiar gift.

“A mask?” Sander questioned wiping all offense from his tone.

“Yes, You’ll be the bull tonight for our masked ball to celebrate your addition to our family.”

Senne’s tone ranged from devilish to persuasive, mercurial to Insidious but Sander knew these overt insults were merely a test of wit and dominance.

To appease the Burgundian duke Sander played coy and shot him a thankful smile and opened his arms wide as he folded them in front of himself and curtsied towards the duke and spoke clearly.

“My lord if you wish me to be the bull. Then the bull I shall be.”

“Good. I think it suits you. Makes you stand out and we wouldn’t want anyone to miss you.” Sander didn’t miss the slight dose of passive aggression laced all over Senne's voice.

“I’ll leave you one of my servants to help you get ready” Sander noted that a mid sized male stepped forward from Senne’s kings guard with large fluffy curls adorning the top of his head.

“Thank you” Sander stated.

Senne and his court began to exit the mint hue room when Senne turned around like he just remembered what he actually came to Sander’s quarters for, “Oh before I forget…. don’t indulge too much on the festivities tonight. I arranged for the Prince to show you around the grounds in the early morning”.

Sander’s ears perked up at the sheer mention of the Prince.

“I’ll be sure to behave myself sire” Sander gives Senne a light nod as Senne turns and heads toward the exit once again.

“My lord would you like help getting dressed for tonight?” Senne’s kingsmen interrupts Sander’s thoughts.

“Yes, of course. I am sorry I didn’t catch your name….”

“Younes, my lord”

“Younes, please call me Sander” Younes gave Sander a soft smile in agreement.

“You should start getting ready Sander. The masquerade ball has been planned for weeks and it's the highlight of the season. Your betrothed has been planning her outfits since it was announced.”

Oh great Sander thinks not only has he been given short notice but now he also needs to pass some predetermined litmus test that the Burgundians have surely been cooking up for him.

He’ll just rely on his bravado and dynamism to survive the occasion.

“So you don’t know what my betrothed will be wearing tonight?”

Younes gently puts his right hand over his heart and softly whispers, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy”.

Sander lets out a soft giggle.

“Ok understandable. Wouldn’t want you to break any pacts.”

“What about the Prince? Do you know what he’ll be wearing?”

“Oh of course but everyone knows that” Younes reassures.

“He’ll be the lion” Younes states matter-of-factly.

“The Prince is always the lion”

“And why is that?” Sander asks curiously.

“Because the prince has never encountered prey he couldn’t kill.There’s a reason they call him the Prince Of Swords…..Don’t let your guard down or he’ll be the death of you.”

----

The darken corridors felt like a labyrinth.

A maze of endless entry and exit points on a journey to nowhere.

The palace was a mere whirlpool of decor that captured the zeitgeist of the time.

Tapestries adorning floor to ceiling windows.

Polished stone staircases.

Portraits of past rulers and the coat of arms of the burgundian nation stapled across every possible crevice of available wall space.

Sander felt like some sort of heretic. He didn’t belong amongst these people. He gave no credence to their cause. If anything he was the antistasis to their campaign secretly lobbying for their demise and permanently obtuse to the burgundian struggle. He knew there was no permanence to this betrothal. He would never allow himself to wed a kin of the three lions. This agreement was merely for show; a pit stop till he got back to his real life.

He sauntered down the palace halls with little regard to their importance, going out of his way to belittle all the objects the burgundians treasured like some sort of ignorant dilettante.

Sander knew he merely had to survive these grasslands. Deem himself a poacher within this big cat habitat. Become merciless and when an opening presents itself, drive an arrow through the heart of a lion but first he would need to learn how not to become the prey.

He came out of nowhere.

Hidden by the cover of night.

He was observing him from the end of the long hallway. The lion standing at ready. Taking him in. He wore a burnt orange colored cape with hand etched gold trimming. His chocolate orbs the color of an afternoon sunset. His face adorning the face of a leader of the pack.

Sander just stared at him.

Curious.

Drawn in.

His feet pick up pace towards him. Completely oblivious to the fact that he himself is drench in a disguise. For tonight he is but nothing but a bull; temperamental and sinister. A green eyed monster ready to crash land on his own personal matador.

He almost reaches him and then the lion looks out to some unknown voice down the hall and runs towards it, getting lost in the sea of creatures in the throws of their festivities inside the grande ballroom.

The bull lets his instinct guide him and blurs into the terrain of blushing birds, bunny rabbits, deers and wolves all dancing in unison with one another under the twinkle of the ballroom’s candlelight incandescents.

For one night only mere mortals have morphed into beast, hounds and the feather habitants of a wild life Archipelago. The bull weaves his way around a pack of wolves, passes a litter of kittens when he suddenly feels a serpent wrap its scaly surface behind his neck and tug him in their direction.

“There you are?” The Marchioness Deruwe spoke in a possessive tone.

Sander flung his head in a 90 degree turn towards her direction.

The Marchioness Deruwe was a beautiful creature. That was not something that was ever up for debate but she was conniving and a master of the game. She maneuvered courts to her will. Destroying young maiden’s reputations on a whim. Her prowess for dismantling those who opposed her was so infamous it travelled with her across the channel to the Burgundian realm. She was a flower of the Yorkist faction. Her father had married her off to a French Marquess at the tender age of 16. Most young English maiden’s would have been intimidated to enter the French courts so unestablished but the Marchioness had spent her entire life bossing her pack of blonde hair, blue eyed hyenas around every Yorkish social event. To the Marchioness getting in the good graces of King Lucas and Queen Daphne was nothing more than sport. Another challenge to show off her skill set. It took no more than a season until she was trotting around the French palace like she owned the place. She worked her angle to its utmost potential, securing her husband the Marquess Deruwe a role as official acting liaison to the French king throughout the Burgundy nation and so here she stood exactly where Sander expected her.

Regal, drenched in beauty, playing her role. Moving puzzle pieces around. Advising young courtiers who were on the hunt for some prey and willing to do anything to climb up the social ladder to land themselves a big fish.

“My lady”

Sander slightly bowed in her direction as she placed her hand out to be kissed by Sander’s lips.

“My lord”

She said in giddy almost pantomime fashion.

It was strange for Sander to have the Marchioness validate his presence. For so long she had only toyed with him. Wound him up and dropped him like he was some rudimentary tool the Marchioness had outgrown and had no use for anymore. He hated to admit it to himself but she had taught him how to love. To love only for gluttony, to never share or truly give yourself to another but to merely take and when all resources had been depleted to move on to the next bigger and better thing. Sander had experienced this first hand as a young adolescent who lost himself in the Marchioness' blonde locks and lean figure and late nights falling asleep on her bosom but as intense as their “love” was, Sander just became another victim of her wicked game. She gorged and binged herself on his love mosaic, his unrelenting joyful spirit that illuminated a room like a moonbeam in the middle of a forest but once the affair was all over he was left a mere shell of himself. She had taken everything from him. Sander felt he had no other options but to resign himself to a monastic order or to become an agent of this dark market where love was a tool for savagery, negotiation, lust and pure greed. Sander had turned himself from a victim to a lothario. Only playing the game of love for sheer sport just to quench his blood lust.

Sander lost track of time and didn’t even realize how long he had been standing in front of the Marchioness spellbound by her presence when his axis shifted and he saw the lion surrounded by his pack. He snapped into animation and headed towards the lion passing a hoard of mice, a stallion and his mare.

The troop of big cats all turn towards the bulls' direction as he comes to a halt mere feet away from their king. The lion walks forward to meet the bull and as they close the distance and stand mere inches from one another about to break out of this wild life sanctuary and into the human realm the ballroom goes dark.

A sudden cacophony of screams and squeals rumbles through the ballroom.

“Who do you want to be tonight?” The Duke of Burgundy asks the wildlife in a demanding tone.

“Do you want to be a predator?”

“Or the prey? …...Tonight ladies and gentleman or should I say inhabitants of the animal kingdom. Tonight there are no rules. You can be who you want to be under the guise of moonlight.”

“If you dare not play our game and you absolutely must light your way through tonight's festivities then take one of the candles that the servants are providing but if you're brave and truly want to get lost in the darkness then the castle is your playground for one night and there is only one rule,what happens in the darkness stays in the darkness”.

The roar of the wildstock animates through the ballroom and orbs of light begin to appear in front of masked beast, birds and prey.

A gothic melody begins to fill the room as the musical entertainment for the evening amplifies through all corners of the palace.

The orbs begin to make a circular formation and the heat of the flames subdues the wild life.

The candle flames waltz back and forth.

And the hot blooded creatures move in the shape of a half crescent moon.

More orbs begin to light the room and the moon phases begin to decorate the floor as they do the night sky.

The green monster suddenly feels a tug of his wrist as gravity and his heart desire walk towards the moon phases and the lion and the bull head towards the dancing troop standing side by side, when the lion does a sudden about face and is standing directly in front of the bull.

“Dance with me?” the lion asked in a meek tone. One anticipating a denial.

“I don’t wish to embarasses you my prince but one is not a dancer”

The bull notices the lion's chocolate gaze scan his person when a sickly sweet tone comes out lightly encouraging the bull.

“Just follow along. I promise I won’t lead you astray. Just trust me.”

The lion lifts both his palms to his shoulder height facing the bull and the bull matches his movement.

The lion settles his palms against the bulls as they stand two ready pilgrims; palm to palm in holy palmers' kiss.

As the gothic chimes began to pick up pace the lion demo’s a gentleman’s curtsy which the bull mirrored. They retouch palms but this time they point their hands towards the sky and as the bull and the lion brought them down so did each pair of courtiers in the ballroom and took their position to begin the waltz.

The lion and the bull stand shoulder to shoulder vertically, each positioning themselves to face opposite sides of the ballroom but completely interlocked via one's right arm into the other’s left.

“You ready?” The music begins to speed up.

“NO” Sander chuckles out embarrassed.

“Did I mention I am really really bad at this…” he admits with a lack of confidence that is foreign to him.

“Well I think it’s fate then because I’m really good at this” Robbe shoots Sander a wink.

The pair of gentlemen begin swaying in a whimsical harmonic intonation. Fluted skirts twirled around them under the incandescent flicker of limelight radiating around the ballroom.

Robbe’s mood becomes rather chipper as an uptempo beat begins to sound around the room and an uncontrollable laugh begins bubbling up to the surface. Sensing he has the upper hand, Robbe is suddenly full of gumption and can’t help but tease the Duke.

“You really are bad at this, aren’t you?”

Sander is moving his limbs around aimlessly with a lack of grace that you could mistake him for a duck failing to take flight.

All feathers, no grace.

“Stop laughing at me” Sander demands in a playful tone.

Shooting him a makaveli smile. Robbe begins to untie his connected arm and gently grab Sander’s hand to guide it towards the heavens emulating a wedding’s arch.

“Tsk, tsk ……. Come on my duke go on” Robbe signals to Sander to go under the arch suggesting that he was about to twirl Sander mid dance.

Sander stalls for a second but as Robbe pulls on his arm he follows his direction.

“You’re enjoying torturing me too much my prince”

Sander knows that to the rest of the courtiers he must look clumsy and foolish but in that moment he couldn’t care less. The prince stirs an unfamiliar feeling within Sander. He feels weightless, airy and unencumbered. He knows this feeling is what Bernard would call fun or what he was adamant Sander was hesitant to experience in life, which was a carefree playdate. One without an agenda, an individual he could let go with and maybe one day even feel compelled to show his true nature too. The real Sander, the one he hid from the world.

Now that Sander had let Robbe have a little fun with him. It was time he matched the prince at his game.

Sander tugs on Robbe’s arm and pulls him towards him. They are standing so close together that Sander can feel the hot breath of royalty when Robbe doth protest to Sander hand gripping his slim waist.

Sander leans in towards the side of Robbe’s face and whispers lightly.

“Ready?”

“What?” Robbe replies with an inquisitive squint adorning his eyes.

“We're not going to stay here all evening are we? The night is young...”

“Sander I can’t lea---”

“On the count of 3” Sander reenforces.

“But my fiance is waiting…..” Robbe whispers, trailing off in a barely audible volume towards the end.

“3”

Before Robbe can fight the instinct to relent. Sander is rushing him out of the ballroom, leaving the prideland behind. Emergency evacuating from the serengeti and rushing down a dark corridor camouflaged by the night sky.

Before they both know it they have reached the rotunda the place where Robbe’s first laid eyes on Sander under a lightning painted sky that only served to illuminate Sander’s chiseled face; and though Robbe was lost for words in this moment he would look back at their first meeting and recall that even amongst the torrential downpour and screams of mother nature there was no denying that Robbe always knew that Sander would be the one.

____________________

“Have you lost yourself in lunacy?”

Robbe turned to Sander, sporting a sour expression.

“I didn’t think you would lack imagination my prince”

“I don’t” Robbe spoke sternly, surprised at Sander’s use of his formal title.

“Oh no? Seems like you're questioning my intentions.”

“Is the prince of swords fearful he will be led astray?”

Both men stood silent staring at one another. Calculating their next decision as if the weight of a nation depended on it.

For Sander, Robbe had the properties of a seductive paramour. He knew the prince was promised to another and that whatever he sought from him would be nothing more than a diliance by night. A transaction that could only take place in the cloak of darkness but he didn’t care. When he was in his presence he felt displaced, rocking on the edge of an axis, chemically imbalanced, filled to the brim with potency.

For Robbe, Sander was the last drink of the night he should have walked away from. The moment you recall the next morning that tipped you over the edge. He was a deadly sin manifested in a man. Sander was Robbe’s last everclear.

Both men hear the squabbles of hyenas approaching their territory and on a lion’s instinct Robbe grabs Sander’s hand and leads him down the rotunda stairs.

“Come on Sander, someone will see us”

They escape through the courtyard and away from the herd.

Hand in hand.

Together.

In alliance.

The palace is pitch black, almost frightening but Robbe navigates the route with such gravitas, purpose, unwavered and committed towards his sin. The men untether themselves from their role play. They throw their masks aside and run into the night together in their purest forms.

Robbe heads towards refuge, towards the high garden walls where they can hide themselves deep in the labyrinthine green. A garden brew of emerald tinted greenery, shamrock leaves and rainbow colored rose bushes.

“Where are we going?” Sander finally protests and as Robbe lets go of Sander’s hand he takes stock of his surroundings.

“Woah”

Sander is in awe of this grassy fortress. The walls are high so much so that they feel like they are collapsing in on themselves and submerging the twosome in a foggy condensation.

Sander shivers.

“Fock, it's cold”

“Come now” Robbe nods his head signaling Sander to follow him deeper into this thorny environment.

“Where are we going?” Sander asks tentatively. A tad suspicious of Robbe but also certain that his fellow journeymen knows the way.

“It’s a surprise”

“Is this the point of the story where I suddenly go missing?”

“What?” Robbe looks at Sander with a puzzled look.

“Am joking….. But don’t think I don’t know about the legends surrounding the lakes and forest here”

Robbe's face loses all its pink hue at the mention of those stories. Sander quickly recognizes his obvious fumble but it was merely an innocuous mention it was not meant to offend or besmirch his name.

“Umm am sorry, nevermind” Sander quickly throws out and starts moving deeper into the seafoam landscape.

“Ok prince, lead the way”

Robbe brushes off the uncomfortable mention and re-engages.

“Ok Duke, on the count of 3” and before Sander even has time to register the count Robbe takes off running deeper into refuge.

___________

Sander is panting by the time he catches up to Robbe.

They moved so fast between the juniper corridors and foggy condensation he isn’t even sure he knows how to get back out of the labyrinth but for now he pushes that thought out of his mind as he stands at the center of this garden universe surrounded by a rainbow colored flower bed.

He inhales and the scent of chrysanthemum, lillie and roses fill his nasal cavity. He licks his top lip and he swears he can taste the pollen in the air.

“It’s my favourite place in the palace”

“It's beautiful” Sander reassures Robbe.

“I planted these flower beds with my mother. It was the only thing that helped when he d-------”

Robbe cuts off the sentence abruptly.

“It took time but eventually they blossomed” He admits softly.

“These white florets here, they are the ones I picked out for your quarters”, Sander’s face instantly lights up with an innocent smirk when he realizes that Robbe picked out the flowers he's been drawing. Because of course he did, they’re beautiful.

Sander and Robbe stroll past bushes of red roses and Sander stops to clip one off the vine as he gently walks back to Robbe and begins to delicately push his hair behind his right ear and places the red rose atop of it.

Robbe just stares at Sander with big eyes and a dreamy gaze anticipating the next move.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?”

Robbe remains silent shaking his head back and forth.

Sander moves closer to Robbe, surrounding him.

Robbe drops his gaze focusing on the rosewood colored lilies beneath him.

He knows the moment is coming. Robbe can feel the heat of Sander breathe, glazing the side of his face moving towards his mouth when deep in the darkness he hears twigs break.

Robbe looks towards the ominous noise and takes one big step away from Sander and a few steps towards the sound.

Sander notices that Robbe suddenly seems flustered, weary and distracted.

“Ummm we should play a game”

“What? Right now? Why?” Sander retorts in a questionable elevated tone.

“Trust me” Robbe pleads with his signature pyrope orbs that guarantee to make Sander weak at the knees.

“Okay” Sanders states in defeat.

“Close your eyes”

Sander squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation almost childlike.

“When I count to three, open your eyes and come find me”

Sanders stands amongst the roses when he hears Robbe yell out “one” a few feet away from him.

A few seconds later he hears Robbe yell out “two” but his voice is more distant.

Lastly he hears him yell out “three” and when he opens his eyes he stands alone amongst the flower bed.

The red rose Sander placed behind Robbe’s ear lays on the ground in front of him. Sander picks it up and looks around.

Suddenly he is frightened.

The garden walls are high and the night is eerily silent.

“Robbe” Sander yells out into the darkness.

But nothing. Sander doesn’t hear any noise or callback.

Sander pops his head into every corridor but everything is so dark and identical looking that he doesn't dare leave the refuge of the rose garden.

He yells out for Robbe again but still nothing.

He waits another twenty minutes but the night is only growing colder and so he makes the call to head back to the palace and ask his hand, Younes to come back with him to search for Robbe in case he got lost or was hurt.

It took Sander many tries of winding corners and dead ends to find his way out of the garden maze. What easily took him and Robbe ten minutes to navigate; took Sander at least an hour to navigate his way out of.

As he reaches the entryway to the palace garden he sees a figure absconding towards the palace in haste, his locomotives appear unruly and he does not resemble Robbe at all from behind but those hickory manes are recognizable from over yonder.

“ROBBE” Sander yells out ferociously. Annoyed but relieved that Robbe was ok.

“Robbe stop” Sander speeds up towards the figure.

He sees the figure turn towards him and it is Robbe but Robbe takes a brief look at Sander with disinterest and continues on his way.

Sander sprints towards him for some sort of explanation about why he just abandoned him like that.

Sander finally catches up to him and as he tugs on his shoulder. He hears Robbe groan in obvious annoyance.

“What do you want?”

“Robbe what the hell you just left without saying anything…… I was worried”

Robbe's face is blank and unnerved.

“OOookay” Robbe rolls his eyes.

Sander shrugs his shoulders signaling for some deeper meaning or some type of closure.

“Ooookay” Sander repeats back to Robbe mimicking his juvenile ambivalence.

They stand in the darkness, frozen, sizing each other up.

“Is that all you needed to say to me my lord?”

Sander is so confused and angry. He feels like a fool and better yet he doesn't really have room to speak freely at least not in view of the palace guards.

In one last attempt Sander cuts in front of Robbe and speaks in a barely audible whisper.

“Robbe I just thought…...well I thought we both understood that we enjoyed one another’s company. I thought we had an understanding tonight.”

Sander boars his gaze straight into Robbe’s chocolate orbs as he lets the last sentence drip out of his mouth.

Robbe’s steps back and lets out a menacing laugh.

“Oh my lord, for an English man you truly are gullible”

“Tonight was just for show. You and I are just foes through arrangement. Nothing less, nothing more. Let us not pretend that you're anything but a visitor here with his own personal agenda. I was simply entertaining you at my fathers bidding. I thought you of all people would understand.”

Sander stood stoic. Not giving Robbe the satisfaction of showing him an inch of emotion.

Every word spewing out of Robbe’s mouth was meant to sting. Worse of all, Sander could tell Robbe was enjoying ridiculing him.

Once Robbe was done humiliating him and blundering the metaphorical knife deep into his chest cavity he wrapped up their exchange with a simple bid farewell.

As Robbe walked into the palace he turned around one last time to remind Sander.

“Get to bed my lord. Tomorrow we go hunting and god knows…. am in need of a good kill”

And with that Robbe disappears into the palace walls.

Sander can feel tears welling up. He is not upset because some boy played him. He just hates looking foolish and being the butt of someone’s joke.”

Sander gets a hold of his senses and storms through the palace towards his quarters.

As he slams his door shut the moonlight illuminates his sitting room and he sees the bouquet of white florets in the center of the room.

A sudden rage takes a hold of him and he grabs the vase and slams it on the ground. The remnants of the broken ceramic lay shattered at Sander’s feet and the white florets destroyed.

Before Sander can react he sees a silhouette in the corner of the room.

“Well well well someone had a bad night”

It’s the Marchioness Deruwe. Sander would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Britt am not in the mood”

“Oh now we are addressing one another with informalities” Britt mockingly points out.

“Leave, right now”

“Now now Sander I come bearing gifts. The Earl of Warwick has sent a message. He has approved and is willing to arrange a marriage to his daughter Isabel”

“What?!?!?!” This was unexpected Sander knew the Earl despised him.

“How is that possible? Edward would never allow me to side with Warwick. He is already suspicious of his dealings with the Lancastrians.”

“He doesn’t have to know. We would arrange your passage back to England in secret and your union would be solidified without Edward knowing.”

“That’s mad. Edward has sent me here with one objective in mind. We need the Burgundian iron to defeat Henry.”

“You and I both know the Burgundians will never give up the iron without getting something more than a simple marriage to Margaret. This is all for laughs. The Burgundians just want to know if they are backing the right horse.”

Sander knows Britt is right. Everyone involved knows that the Burgundians will never give up the iron without a proper incentive.

“Why are you helping me, Britt? You’re a yorkist flower, what do you gain from pushing me onto the side of the Lancastrians?”

“We all have a part to play Sander. I need to hedge my bets and have as many options as possible. My husband is a complete idiot but our money is not everlasting and we all have something to gain from this war.”

Sander shook his head in agreement. It was rare to see Britt be so sincere but her tone was definitive. She had her own secrets and people to protect.

“When you have a response for the Earl, send a note my way. I will make sure it crosses the channel”.

Britt saunters towards the door when Sander can’t help but show his hand.

“The Prince of Swords. What's his game?”

Britt pauses and looks back at Sander puzzled but curious.

“The Prince, don’t underestimate him; he is a great strategist and has the ability to command an army if need be.”

“Does he want to be king like his father?”

“No he does not but his people want him to. They respect him. They speak of his kindness and fairness above all. He also quells the fears of a French invasion; he has been betrothed to the Princess of France since he was a child. The people call their union the great love story. Betrothed since birth and genuinely a love marriage. Nice for some I guess....”

Sander gives Britt an ambivalent chuckle. A love marriage? What a foreign concept for both of them.

“Is that all?” Sander tacks on to the end of the conversation. Egging on Britt’s conniving ways,

“Does he have any secrets?” Sander finally just asks.

“No, he is clean. If you were to ask me to clean. Everyone is hiding something but it seems like the Prince of Swords is perfect.”

“There is no such thing. Everyone has a secret”

“Exactly” Britt agrees.

“Find out whatever the Prince is hiding and you’ll have the iron and maybe even the chance to be king. All you have to do is to get him to trust you and as soon as he does take the iron away from him.”

Sander nods in agreement.

“Play the Prince at his own game” Sander states with venom in his voice and continues.

“In the end.....”

“I only have one goal”

“To make the prince regret he ever met me.”

#wtfock #the three sided king #almost done with this chapter #lmk ur thots

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cl-01-kestis · 4 years ago

Text

A Gut Feeling - Tech x Mechanic!Reader | Soulmate AU | 2/2

Summary: After your sleepless night of meeting your Soulmate, you wake up the next day to find he’s leaving.

Warnings: angst

Surprisingly, you had the best sleep you had in a very long time. You didn’t toss or turn, or wake up randomly in the middle of your sleep, you stayed still till the late morning and you woke up to the sound of the bunker door being opened. All the clones were up and dressed, out on patroll which left you all alone.

Rex was the one who woke you up, patting your face softly since he wasn’t entirely good at waking people up. You woke up feeling not tired at all, you felt so fresh and ready for anything to be thrown at you. You got showered in the refreshers and quickly changed into a t-shirt and combat shorts considering it was a sunny day today on Anaxes. Your tattoos were on full display as you walked out of the bunker with a towel draped around your shoulders since your hair was still wet, rubbing your scalp and walking down the ramp which led to the large concrete platform of the Republic base.

Kix and Jesse walked with you to your station at the one of the many mechanic stations, making successful conversation with you as you ruffled your hair once more and looked out across the platform to the bit at the back of the base where Anakin and Mace were discussing things. You didn’t have the energy to work too much today, it had been drained from you the day before and you felt like you needed a day off - if Rex would let you.

“You seem in a good mood today” Jesse commented with a smile, his helmet wedged between his elbow and waist as he leaned against one of the clone carriers which was next to your station. You smiled at his comment, remembering the occurrences that too place last night and unable to stop the grin spreading over your face.

“A bit, yeah” You giggled, causing Kix and Jesse to exchange a look of curiosuty. This didn’t go unnoticed by you though, you only found it more amusing that they were oblivious as to what happened. However, you kept your mouth shut and leaned against your speeder as you sipped on some Caf that Kix fetched for you before getting here.

“Have your missions been difficult recently?” You asked, continuing the conversation on matters that excluded you as you watched the two clones with a smile. Jesse nodded, frowning, that didn’t mean anything good.

“We were assigned to a Separatist base on Anaxes; that Bad Batch were with us- I don’t like em’” Jesse grumbled, causing Kix to laugh and shove his shoulder playfully.

“Don’t get rubbed up the wrong way about them, Jesse, they’re not worth our time” Kix brushed off Jesse’s aggression and his gaze returned to yours. He noticed the way your face got a little dark with a blush, the way you chewed on your lip and tapped your fingers on your Caf cup before looking down at the ground and sighing.

“Something on your mind?” Kix asked with a raised brow. You shook your head quickly in response, sipping shyly at your Caf once again. Jesse exchanged another look with Kix, speaking with their eyes before Rex came out of nowhere to interrupt them.

“You’re requested on Bay 6, (Y/N), as for you two, come with me” Rex didn’t smile as he stared at his soldiers, causing them to immediately get in formation and put their helmets on before following him to wherever they had to go. As for you, you didn’t waste a moment as you downed the rest of the Caf and placed your towel on the seat of your speeder.

You let out another yawn as you walked across the massive platform of the Anaxes station, stretching your arms out and cracking your back as you passed many clones, shouting over and wishing them a good morning followed by waves and salutes. The morning sun kissed your revealed skin as you rubbed your forehead with your shirt, waving yourself as an attempt to cool off as you approached bay 6, noticing Hunter sitting down beside Wrecker who you hadn’t yet met.

“Morning Serg!” You shouted, catching his attention and Wreckers who jumped slightly at your voice.

“Morning (Y/N)! Sleep well?” Hunter asked kindly, patting the spot next to him which made you smile.

“Yep, you?” You seemed shy but surprisingly casual as you sat down next to Hunter, your knees bent as your elbows rest on them. Hunter and Wrecker seemed to be doing the same thing as you and enjoyed the Anaxes sun on their skin, the top half of their armour discarded and in a pile beside them.

“Wrecker slept like a baby, none of us could get to sleep last night with all his snoring” Hunter chuckled, nudging Wrecker who blushed at being called out by his Sergeant, shrugging off his comment casually.

“Pardon me if I’m wrong, but Captain Rex told me I was requested here?” You asked with a tilted head, scratching the back of your neck as you watched Hunters expression shift from a curious one to a smirk.

“Yes thats correct, Tech’s not been shutting up about you” He let out a breathy laugh, Wrecker joining him in the process as if the two of them had an inside joke. Without thinking, a blush swarmed your face and you made a small ‘oh’ noise.

“Where is he now?” You asked, Hunter replied by sticking his thumb up and pointing it behind him at the bunker behind all of you sitting on the ramp.

“Crosshair’s not in so take all the time you need” Hunter winked.

“O-oh, no it’s not like-“ You didn’t even bother to finish the sentence as Hunter and Wrecker smirked to themselves, watching you stand up and walk towards the bunker with a nervous frame. You chapped on the door a couple of times, calling out Tech’s name before it opened and a pair of strong hands pulled you in, the door immediately closing behind you.

“Maker!” You placed a hand on your chest, looking up and feeling immediate relief when you saw Tech.

“Morning sweetheart, sorry I scared you” Tech chuckled, removing his helmet from his head but he kept on his goggles as he bent down to give you a peck.

“Not at all, just a little susprised” You smiled, cupping his cheek and stroking it softly with our thumb. Tech placed his helmet on the nearest bed beside him and took off his goggles, placing them beside his helmet before wrapping an arm around your waist. Your heart fluttered at his romantic gestures and you looked up at his beautiful light brown eyes. You noticed a hint of honey swirled around the pupils and that only made him more beautiful.

“I’ve got a while till I have to leave, but I want to spend it with you” Tech said with a shy smile, taking something from his pocket and revealing a beautiful dark purple crystal that sparkled in the bunker’s lamp light.

“This is just a little thing I picked up on my way back to the base, I saved it for studies but I thought you might like it” He sounded almost nervous as he raised it to your view, offering you it with a slightly shaky hand. Without hesitance, you cupped the stone in your hands and delicately took it from Tech’s, staring at it with big eyes.

“This is beautiful, pelire” You gasped, clutching the stone tight to your heart and looking up at Tech with the most beautiful expression he’d ever seen.

“I’m glad you like it my dear, let’s sit” He offered you his hand, smiling from ear to ear as you took it and let him drag you to his part of the bunker which was filled with all different types of technology and materials. Tech was certainly the curious type.

“Wow” Your mouth gaped open when you spotted his data pad.

“This is one of a kind technology! I’ve heard all about this stuff, it’s so cool seeing one in person!” You started geeking out with your mechanic mind, sitting down on Tech’s bed and placing the stone on your lap before carefully picking up his specialised data pad. Tech sat down opposite you on the bed beside his and watched you with a beaming expression.

“Kamino was kind enough to offer me one, you can look through it if you want” He shrugged as he gestured to the data pad, folding his arms and leaning them on his knees as he continued watching you fiddle around with it.

“This is so cool- sorry I’m going through all your stuff without even asking you” You reached out to offer him his data pad but he raised a hand to deny it.

“Look through it, there’s loads of different photos from different missions I’ve been on if you want to check them out” Tech moved over to sit beside you, taking his data pad from your grasp and typing in a few things before bringing up a folder full of hundreds, if not thousands of photos.

“Wow...” Your jaw started to get sore with how much it was staying open, eyes darting to each photo to drink in as much info as you could. Tech wrapped an arm around your waist as he placed the data pad on his lap and started scrolling through the photos.

“This was when all of us were cadets” He chuckled, clicking on one photo in particular that revealed them as very young boys. You instantly recognised Tech and chuckled when you saw him whack Wrecker in the top of the head with a smaller data pad, they looked as though they were arguing in the photo whereas Crosshair and Hunter laughed.

You felt so comfortable in his arms, you were so glad he was opening up to you like this. You understood it would take him a while to do this with anyone else, that thought made your heart race. Seeing Tech in his childhood made you realise just how much he was like anyone else, that went for all the other clones. He was just like you, he had a life before he met you and you wanted to learn all about it, just like he wanted to learn all about you.

“What about that one?” You asked, clicking on another photo which showed a teenage Tech cuddling a very grumpy Crosshair as he slept. You giggled as Tech blushed and scrolled to the next one.

“It was common for us to cuddle, warmth is a survival tool after all” Tech tried to reason as he fought the redness off his face. You continued smiling at his words and thought of how cute he looked when he was asleep, not in a creepy way or anything.

“This one looks interesting” You pointed at the screen, your finger hovering above a young Tech as he aimed his two DC-17 hand blasters at a Separatist model on the clone training course.

“That was my final exam, all of us went through a different training program to heighten each of our abilities - I had to get into the system to shut down all the droids, it was prettt difficult though” He chuckled at the end, scratching his neck as he looked at the photo for a second longer before sighing to himself and swiping away from the photos. You looked up to Tech who seemed deep in thought, placing the data pad beside him on his bed before turning to look at you.

“I know this is a sudden question, but when can I next see you?” He sounded excited as he took your hands in his and smiled. Your heart skipped a beat just at the sight of his smile and you had to think for a moment, pursing your lips and frowning before raising your brows and sighing.

“I’ll be moved to Coruscant whenever Skywalker lets me, but I’m free whenever... what about you?” Your voice trailed into a soft whisper, your chest starting to sink with sadness when you realised Tech was going to leave today.

“I have no idea, we’re a busy troop... but I will visit as much as I can- here” Tech took a pen out of his pocket, looking around for a piece of paper. Rolling your eyes, you offered him your bare arm and let out a chuckle when you saw his frown of confusion.

“Make do with what you’ve got” You caused a smile to burst out on his face once more and he shrugged, taking your arm as if it were glass and scribbling down his holonumber on it before leaving a small ‘x’ at the end. You giggled at his gesture and looked at it once he was finished. He had such nice handwriting, even on skin.

“I may not always be around but I’ll always be one text away” He cupped your cheek, kissing your forehead lovingly before leaning his own against yours. You two stayed like that for a while, basking in the comfortable silence of the bunker and lacing your fingers together.

Everything felt so perfect. You couldn’t wait to tell your parents about this, especially your Dad and Brother. Having found your soulmate, you had such a more positive perspective on life and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your days beside Tech. You understood you’ve barely known him for a day but he immediately made himself a part of you the moment you both met. It felt like this was what the force wanted, even though you weren’t a Jedi or force wielder, but you heard the Jedi speak of it including Mace Windu, who had originally found you and recommended you to the organisation of Mechanics working at Coruscant.

You admit you weren’t ready to leave Tech just yet even though he needed to go, you had just met him only yesterday and you couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to him when you two were apart. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if that were the case.

Tech seemed to notice your tense posture and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin for a while longer as if he was analysing how everything felt and what emotions he was experiencing. Tech was so brand new to this emotion called love, all his life he never desired such things but now he was face to face with it. He couldn’t run from it and he certainly didn’t want to, and it made it even more interesting considering you two were completely different in almost everything. But aside from differences, the two of you were surprisingly very similar personality and hobby wise. He loved using technology, you loved to make it. He loved exploring the universe, you had yet to see it at all. He loved learning new things, you were the one who taught him, and you were teaching him now what love really meant.

He cherished this moment with you as if it would he his last, and there was no telling whether or not that would be the case. Tech was a busy man and dealt with deadly missions that almost got him killed over 50% of the time. Things were difficult now because he had a thing to fight for now, he had someone in mind every time he was close to death and needed to fight back. You were the reason for all his doings now, every opinion and thought, you were behind it now. In some people’s opinions, it would be considered as a burden, but to him it was so much different from that.

His whole life, Tech was engineered to never feel anything to do with love or affection. That went for all his brothers as well. He shouldn’t feel this way, but he does and he can’t run from it. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he’s never felt so willing to fall at someone’s feet. What would he do if he ever lost you one of these days? Maker knows, Tech certainly didn’t want to know.

A fist slamming against the door of the bunker caused you and Tech to jump out of your skins. Your heart slapped against your rib cage as you tried to steady your breathing, trying to shake off the wave of shock your body was in from the sudden loud noise.

“Hurry up Tech! Times ticking!” It was Crosshair, sounding as irritated as ever. Your shoulders slumped and you looked down sadly as you picked up the stone resting in your lap. Tech held you close as he pressed his lips firmly against yours and cupped your cheek with his free hand.

“We should get going before they burst in” He sighed, standing up from his bed and starting to pack all his things for the journey ahead of him. You helped him back, taking things from his bed and hanging them to him so he could put in properly without damaging anything.

He had so many different gadgets, a mechanic’s wet dream completely. You found yourself staring at each piece of technology for a second longer than necessary and it made Tech smile to see you were so curious about everything he owned. Your hands grazed against each other more than once as you handed him his belongings and eventually ere was nothing else to pass on. Tech zipped up his backpack and stood up, slipping the straps onto his shoulders as he walked over to the bed he left his goggles and helmet on, picking them up before placing them on his head and letting out a hollow sigh.

You followed behind Tech, holding onto the crystal he gave you and hesitantly placing it in your pocket as you approached him. Tech turned around and enveloped you in a tight hug, stroking your hair and wishing he could give you another kiss but the helmet covering his head restricted him from doing so. Even so, you kissed the side of his helmet and earned a soft chuckle from him as he cupped your cheek and stroked it with his thumb.

“Come on!” You both frowned and turned to the door when Wrecker slammed it open, a scowl on his face which was quickly replaced with a shocked expression.

“I’ll be out in a minute” Tech said with a cold, frosty tone, glaring hard at his brother who nodded and closed the door shut once more.

“We should really get going” You sighed, pulling away from Tech and taking his hand as you walked out of the bunker, opening up the bunker door your gaze meeting with Hunter’s who’s arms were crossed and a smile was on his face.

“Come on lovebirds, we ain’t got all day” He smirked, nudging Tech’s shoulder with his own once he was close enough. You chuckled at the brothers behaviour and watched in amusement as Tech shoved Hunter back with a hint of irritation in his eyes, all whilst holding your hand.

You followed the bad batch to their ship, the Havoc Marauder, walking beside Tech and squeezing his hand softly when you finally approached the ramp and let him go. Crosshair, Hunter and Wrecker all boarded the ship after waving to you farewell and Tech was left standing on the stairs.

“I don’t want to leave you here” Tech sighed in disappointment, taking both of your hands and brushing your knuckles with his thumbs. You looked up at him with glassy eyes, your heart practically stuck to him him as he removed his helmet and brought you in for a deep kiss, startling some clones around you who were on duty. You kissed back immediately as a tear flew down your cheek, unable to control your emotions as you pulled away and wiped your eyes. Tech kissed away your tears and calmed you down by whispering sweet nothings in your ear and stroking your hair.

“Everything alright over here?” You jumped and turned to look and see Anakin Skywalker with his arms folded and a raised brow. You and Tech quickly pulled away from one another and you wiped away your tears.

“I guess” You answered, shuffling awkwardly in front of him as he looked between you and Tech with wide and amused eyes. Anakin took a step towards you, leaning into your ear and patting your shoulder.

“You know, if you want to join him it wouldn’t hurt anyone” He whispered, pulling back and sending you a wink before saluting Tech and walking off. You stood in your spot with a surprised expression, your tears of sadness were quickly replaced with a beaming smile as you turned to Tech and looked up.

“I’m coming with you” You beamed.

“You what?!” Tech exclaimed in excitement, screaming at Hunter to refrain from powering up the ship as he watched you run off to collect your things from your mechanic station. Your heart was racing, pumping with adrenaline as you lifted your tools box and collected all your things from the bunker including your clothes and washing products.

You were so quick in returning to Tech, one hand holding your tools box whereas the other held a backpack full of messily dumped clothes. Tech couldn’t be more happy as he looked at you though, taking the toolbox from your grasp and helping you on the Havoc Marauder as Echo and Crosshair came to see what was taking Tech so long, only to realise you were joining them.

2 new members in one day? Hunter liked the sound of it, even though Crosshair had a thing or two to say about it, his comments were brushed to the side and you were graciously assisted by Echo and Tech who helped you unload everything when you arrived.

As you looked back down the ramp, you looked to see Rex, Jesse and Kix all smiling in the distance. You walked down the ramp mid way and saluted them, immediately earning them back from the three clones who all looked sad to see you go. Giving them one last wave, you turned around and took Tech’s hand that was stretched out for you to take.

“Welcome to the crew, mechanic” Tech smiled, kissing your cheek as the ramp closed over and you were with your new family, the people who you really belonged with.

#star wars #x reader #clone wars #the bad batch #bad batch tech #clone trooper tech

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moved-to-void-kissed · 4 years ago

Text

Too Late to be Saved

Document link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GF_jZevunsCA5QKPWXfaVO_OO61ZaAtxkzPdoJNJHUM/edit?usp=sharing

When Aqua and Aria reach the Dark Margin at the edge of the realm of darkness, they meet Ansem the Wise, who is quickly sought by Ansem, Seeker of Darkness. Aria angrily confronts the fellow Heartless, but finds herself unable to get back to the End of Sea before Riku and King Mickey arrive. (2351 words) Replaces the KH3 cutscene “An Unexpected Encounter” and changes some story events so that “Too Late” and “Braving the Darkness” no longer occur.

My first new piece of selfship writing on this blog, and oh boy is it a big one! I had a lot of fun writing this, so hopefully it makes for a good read, haha ^-^

A transcript of the document is under the readmore! Reblogs of this post would be greatly appreciated, since I was really happy with how this turned out, but they’re not required by any means~

“What is this place..?”

The blue-haired woman slowly walked forwards, marvelling at the sight before her. The endless dark caverns that she had wandered for so long had opened out to a clouded grey beach, lit by what appeared to be a glowing white moon above the horizon. The hard stone underfoot was giving way to soft sand of the same ash-like colour, as waves of murky water gently grazed the shore. It was an eerily tranquil place by the standards of all she had witnessed before, something her companion was quick to notice.

“There are no Heartless here.” she said. “I almost feel as though I shouldn’t be here, either. Aqua.. I think this might be the edge of the realm.”

“So, we’ve made it to the end?” replied Aqua, now making her way towards the shoreline.

“Yes, it would appear so. Whatever lies beyond this shore.. It seems less like part of the darkness, and more like something between dark and light. Something that doesn’t belong to either force..”

As her partner spoke, Aqua became aware that her voice was growing fainter. When she turned around, she saw that she had made far less progress towards the water, standing awkwardly some distance away with her wings curled around her body. She looked nervous, and unsure what to expect, yet the catlike ears poking straight up through her messy blonde hair showed that she was still as alert as ever, constantly listening for danger even in the silence of the new place they had stumbled across.

“Aria, it’s okay! We can keep going, if you’d prefer that. You look tense, and I don’t want you to be unsettled.” A worried expression flitted across Aqua’s face as she reached out to hold Aria’s hand - the sudden movement made her flinch in surprise, but she quickly and visibly relaxed as Aqua drew closer. When the two were standing together again, Aqua gently closed both of her hands over Aria’s, unfazed by the patches of open darkness that ran along them, and smiled as she looked down at her partner.

“Thank you..” she mumbled quietly. “I’m alright, I just- don’t know what to expect here.”

It was then that, behind the Keyblade Master, Aria spotted a hooded figure sitting some distance away, hidden by a black coat but appearing to gaze out over the barely-moving water. Though she still let Aqua hold her right hand, she slowly shifted to free her left and moved to stand at Aqua’s side in one fluid movement. Then she extended her left arm and a mass of dark energy enveloped the space beside her, dissipating quickly to reveal a jagged dark red Keyblade.

“Identify yourself!”

Her shout echoed across the shore, leading the figure to turn its head and slowly stand up. As it started to walk across the sand, it removed its hood to reveal an older-looking man with piercing orange eyes and wispy light blond hair. He looked tired, and his face bore the wrinkled lines of worry as he observed the two Keyblade wielders.

“Please, stay your weapon. I mean you no harm.”

Aria wasn’t overly convinced, but she could see that the man did not have the strength to be a threat, so she lowered her Keyblade. Aqua was curious to find out more, taking a step forward.

“Who are you? How did you end up in this place?”

The man sighed wistfully, folding his hands behind his back. “My name was.. stolen by another, and I can feel this place taking its toll on my memory. I’m sorry. I know that I have only been here for a fairly short time, and that I was sent here by the destruction of the machine I created to encode Kingdom Hearts in data.”

“Before that..” He turned to look out over the water again, unwilling to meet Aqua’s gaze. “I caused a great deal of misery to many individuals, through both my recent actions and my previous research. It is clear to me now that I was deeply in the wrong about some of my original beliefs.. Now, I can only hope for a chance to atone for my deeds.”

“It’s alright.” Aria’s Keyblade had disappeared from her hand. “I can see now that your heart holds a true desire for.. repentance, or something of that nature. I’m not sure what the right word is, but.. The point is that you won’t be harmed, by either of us.”

“Yes, of course!” Aqua added. “I think you’ll be safe here, at least, since the Heartless don’t seem to come here. And, I can’t claim to know what you’ve done, but.. What’s important is that you recognise your mistakes, and that you want to make up for them.”

The man seemed relieved, and turned back to face the pair with a shadow of a smile on his face. “Thank you, both of you. I admit that I was not expecting to meet anyone else in this infernal prison. If I may ask, what are your names?”

“Oh, there’s no time for that now.”

A dark portal had opened up, and from it stepped an imposing and well-built man in a similar black coat. He had slicked-back long silver hair and similarly piercing eyes to the old man, though his were a cold golden colour. Aria’s eyes narrowed at his approach, as it was clear that he was a powerful user of darkness, though the true nuance was only visible to her.

“What- What’s going on?” Aqua asked, turning to face the man with suspicion. He ignored her for the moment, focusing only on the older man, who in turn was glaring fiercely at the intruder as he approached.

“You..”

“Master.. I must have a word with you.”

“Master?” he echoed. “So now you mock me..” The disapproval dripped from his voice like bitter venom. The interloper opened his mouth to respond, but-

“Leave.”

Aria had broken away from Aqua’s grasp and now stood defiantly before the intruder, Keyblade still in hand.

“Excuse me?” The man raised an eyebrow and sneered down at her, surprised by her actions.

“I know what you are, Ansem.” she snarled back. “I have known your power since before you even existed. A villainous Heartless with a natural human form - the one that took the title of “seeker of darkness” and is shadowed by a twisted dark figure. You think you’re so strong, but you are not the one who holds power here.”

This last statement had clearly struck a nerve, and Ansem’s expression of contempt soured into anger. “You’re certainly an astute one.. But what makes you think you could possibly face me?”

“Have your eyes gone blind as well as gold? If I can tell what you are, you can tell what I am. I have seen more than you will ever achieve, especially now that you’re afflicted with some other presence. That-” - she pointed up at his eyes - “-is Xehanort’s power, isn’t it? If you’re with him, that makes you our enemy.”

At this point, Aqua’s worried expression had returned. “Aria, be careful..”

“Aqua, get that man somewhere out of the way. I’m going to stop this before it becomes a problem.”

“You are a fool to challenge me, girl!”

An eruption of darkness burst forth from the Heartless, and the powerful frame of the Dark Figure rose up from his shadow. Aria quickly leapt up into the air, spreading her wings to soar over Ansem’s head as he lashed out. To deflect the residual impact of his outburst, Aqua summoned a Barrier spell, then started to help the old man escape once he had turned around.

The force of that initial burst - not even a targeted attack, merely an effect driven by the might of his anger - instantly made Aria aware of the strength Ansem possessed, and she knew she would have to be careful. Her advantage was agility, as the darkness she could draw from her surroundings to aid her flight was limitless. She darted out of his reach and flew up and away from the Dark Figure’s grasp, firing shockwaves of unearthly blue energy at both it and Ansem. The monster seemed unfazed, but Ansem himself was slowed down in his pursuit of her, only to then retaliate with a barrage of violet orbs, which Aria was able to flit between. At every twist and turn, she flew further away from him, enraging him even more as he was forced to give chase.

“What is this insolence?!” Ansem yelled. “You should be obeying me!”

“Does it look like that matters?” she replied, deftly evading another blast of dark energy. “I already told you - you’re not the one who holds power here. Even if you did, Ves’ presence is enough to protect me. I don’t care what you think you deserve!”

Another flash of darkness, this time from Aria herself - she had switched her Keyblade from its dark mode to its diamond mode, now shimmering with cold blue light, and enveloped herself in a shadowy aura to strengthen herself. Still soaring on her wings, their black feathers gleaming with energy drawn from the realm, she sent a rain of insightful flames down from above, then her Keyblade became electrified and she hurled it spinning towards him.

“Maybe you meant something, once. But now you’ve let yourself be taken over by someone who’s not even strong enough to control you completely. Take it from someone who knows - all that does is weaken you!”

“Enough of this!”

Suddenly, the Dark Figure wrested itself from Ansem’s shadow and lunged forwards into the air, followed swiftly by Ansem himself, roaring and surrounding himself with a wall of intense darkness. As Aria dropped through the air to avoid his charge, a blast of ice struck him from behind. It was Aqua, channeling magic even without her Keyblade to act as a conduit. The impact threw Ansem off-course, but the Dark Figure swept around and managed to grab hold of Aria.

“Agh!”

“Let go of her!” Aqua cried, trying to fire more magic without hitting Aria. Ansem’s attention remained focused on the Keyblade Master, while the Dark Figure tightened its powerful grip as if to crush Aria entirely. She desperately writhed and struggled, holding onto the figure with her right hand and trying to slash at it with the Keyblade in her left. After a few moments, it became shrouded in a dark mist, as if dissipating, and she was able to slip from its hold when another direct hit from Aqua made Ansem stumble.

Anger still pulsed through him like a poison as he shouted at the both of them. “I will not lose to an obstinate recusant and a lost guardian with no Keyblade to protect herself!”

Clearing the space around him by emitting a shockwave of energy, Ansem started to summon a massive crest of darkness above him, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. The Dark Figure was still clawing at Aria, as if enraged at how she had stolen some of its power to escape it, but she felt confident she would be able to evade the incoming blow. She could tell that he was not at his full strength anymore, and the intricate crest was already starting to lose its shape, contorting into a misshapen orb of raw darkness.

Then she saw where Ansem was aiming.

“Don’t you dare!-”

In the instant before the orb struck her, all Aqua saw was a flurry of feathers, and then came the dark impetus. Something fell from her sash as she was knocked to the ground, and she was only aware of something- someone- Aria being launched through the air above her, sent flying further back into the dark.

Just then, a shower of stars came soaring in from the direction of the otherworldly beach. Their light seemed to pierce through the darkness like a blade through fog, and Aqua couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope as she saw them strike the Heartless.

“Oh no you don’t!”

A familiar and determined cry from none other than King Mickey himself - the little mouse had leapt to the fray and brandished his Star Cluster Keyblade to help Aqua out. From behind him, another Keyblade wielder in plaid clothing was running towards them, carrying a sword of grey metal with ease.

Aqua recognised him immediately, even though he had grown considerably. “Riku! Mickey! Is it really you?”

“Gah..” Ansem staggered back to his feet, clearly injured from Mickey’s attack, and glared at them all in turn. “You have not won this.. You will not prevail!”

Another dark corridor opened up, then it was gone, and he was gone.

“I don’t feel good about letting him get away like that..” said Mickey. “Should we try and go after him?”

“There’s no time!” Riku exclaimed, his green eyes clouded with concern. “We need to get you out of here, Aqua, and bring Ansem the Wise with us, too. I don’t know how long the corridor I made will stay open for.”

“Wait, but-”

Mickey nodded at Riku’s words with a determined expression. “You’re right. I’m not leaving without you again, Aqua!”

All the while, Aria was desperately flying.

The light of all their hearts, and of the corridor, was blinding, especially for one so accustomed to the dark - but she kept racing forwards, using them as a guiding beacon. Sharp spikes of rock loomed down from the ceiling, as if the jaws of a monster were trying to consume her, to keep her trapped in the realm that had already held her for so long. No. She wouldn’t lose her. This would be her only chance to escape.

The lights flickered, once, twice, three times - and then it was all extinguished. Fatigue from her injuries mixed with overwhelming emotions brought Aria to the ground with a sob. She crashed to the floor just metres away from where her love had been so cruelly rescued, clinging onto what Aqua had so sadly left behind.

All she had left was a blue glass Wayfinder.

#third time's the charm..#a call from the void #creations from the void #selfship #selfshipping #love: wayfinding waters (aqua)#selfship: survivors of the dark (aqua/aria)#self‑inserts #self‑insert: darkness' champion (aria)#kingdom hearts selfshipping #this post is okay to reblog!#I hope that's everyone who wanted to be tagged! if i've missed someone off or tagged someone who didn't want to be then please let me know

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kdramachitchat · 3 years ago

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Hometown Cha Cha Cha episode 2 recap: Hye-jin tries to be more sincere to her new neighbors. Her clinic ended up being a success, thanks to Dusik. Looks like they met before in the past too.

The episode begins with a surrounding view of the ocean closing to night time. Then the morning comes with Hwa-Jung being busy with what looks like accounting matters. She then opens a folded paper that states her divorce mutual consent with her husband. Those are some of the moments she said that she regrets.

Another Gongjin resident Oh Chunjae is also going through his recorded tapes. Seems that he used to be a recording artist back at the 90s as he was reminiscing with his 2nd album casset demo. I wonder how he never made it. We were then shown with Dusik getting something out of closet, a black suit and he's looking at it pensively with a sigh. Minah finally opens her clinic but ended up sighing. Goes to show no matter what decisions you decided to take, you can never turn back the clock.

We go back to 2 weeks ago, Dusik enters the Chongho Scuba Diving shop with Hyejin in toe. They were checking out the possible office spaces. Dusik showed her a office space that has a nice view of the ocean. Hyejin though is not satisfied as she has requirements for her office, not just for a nice view. Despite not being satisfied she is running out of options. Dusik showed her a better option with a bigger space but the style is old fashion as its more ecofriendly. The interior isnt style. She wants a more antique european style. I dont think you could find that in Gongjin. Dusik offered her offwhite wallpaper isntead that is the simplest thing he could offer trhat's close to her taste. Hyejin is worried though in hoping that Dusik and Hwajung may end up scamming her because she's not from the countryside. Hwajung reassures her by saying that everyone knows the both of them. They could never scam anyone. She revealed her card and states that she's a zone chief. They show more proof and the office space that she just saw is the unit that Hwajung planned to save if ever she opens up her 2nd restaurant. Although, with the goodness of her heart she offered it to Hyejin because she thinks that the whole town needs a dental clinic and its much more valuable. Dusik tried to leave but Hyejin stops him by stepping on his foot. They officially signed the contract as landlady and tenant. Hwajung then pays Dusik for 4 hours worth of work. Dusik ended up following her back. She owes him 17k won worth. Dusik offers services for renovating and shows her all his certified liscences. Hyejin ended up in shock and thinks he's weird. She's back in Seoul packing her things and showing her friend where she's moving.

Hyejin finally travels back to Gongjin looking content and satisfied while driving. The locals are curious as to who is moving in. Someone is moving into Ms Seo's house. The locals thought its a joke that she's a dentist although she really is one. She finally settles in and calls her parents updating them about her moving status. She even puts up her family portrtait. Dusik then visits her late at night to verify her registration. Dusik tells her the neighborhood rules and things she should know. Since Dusik was the one who set up the house, he sets up the door lock code too which ended up being his birthday. We now know that he's a year older than her and she accidentally calls him 'oppa' she instantly feels weird about it after Dusik asking if its a hint of affection. He says that he doesnt want any of it. She then asked him where the nearest coffee place is. In order to work she needs coffee to start her day and the only one nearby is the 4000won coffee stop, HAHAHA. She feels traumatized already and refuses to come back there. Dusik says let bygones be bygones as they're her new neighbors now, she has to get used to them despite the wrong introductories. She said she doesnt mind but the coffee is awful. The word has spread of a new dentist in town, the elderly talks about going for a visit. While running, Dusik finally renovated her dentist office and Hyejin complimented his work on a job well done. The villagers saw her running with the joggings but since they live in the village so long they do not know that its workout gear in the modern era. they ended up in shock. Hwajung stops by at Hyejin's to check up on her and is impressed by the renovation.

She then invites her to a party for the elderly the next day. Hyejin looks uncomfortable and tells her that she'll check her schedule, although Hwajung tells her to stop by even if she's busy. Its a way to introduce herself as a neighbor and to promote her clinic. Hyejin then sits with the elderly ladies, Gamri offers her bread wrapped with kimchi by the hand but Hyejin declines it, that's a wrong impression right away for someone who wants to promote her clinic. It comes off as rude. Hwajung comes to her aid and tells her if she needs any help to let her know because she rented 2 of her properties. Hyejin starts complaining about the minor details of her office space and Hwajung looks at her with a stunned expression. The rest of the village people started introducing themselves and offers help. They all stood up and she's left alone with the cafe owner Chunjae. He continues to promote his failed 1993 song to her as well as his life story on how he ended up in Gongjin. She starts to get annoyed and lose appetite and left. She starts complaining on how they're eating out in the open and its unsanitary. Being a dentist makes her become OC with the cleanliness but she doesn't have to be rude about the food either. The village people were trying to be nice to her. Dusik tells her she's fussy and picky. Tells her why cant she see the good things around her. Good point. Dusik trying to show her the good things about Gyongjin but she isnt listening to him.

The speaker ended up with a sound issue and Chunjae stopped singing. Hyejin was ended up exposed on loud speaker complaining that she should've stayed in Seoul. Uh oh. This is so embarassing. The mic at the office she's in is open. I'd be so embarassed to show my face infront of them after badmouthing them behind their backs. They may be annoying but dont be rude. Hyejin realized what happened quickly and Dusik was the most disappointed person in the room. Dusik defends her that she's just doing is ignorant blabbing, tells Chunjae not to take it seriously. She then decides to open applications for new employee recruitment for her clinci. She then receives a delivery from Dusik. Tells him that he does everything for the village. Dusik tells her that she thinks she knows everything just because she got good grades and has a good paying job. Just because she was able to get through the small bumbs she decides to act bigger than everybody else. Just because she freely judges the village people's lives but when its her life she's offended especially when she's being assessed. Dusik stating facts, life isnt fair for everybody. Dont judge on people's shortcomings just because you passed yours. Someone ran the doorbell and her best friend Miseon surprisingly visits her. It was revealed that her partner ended up cheating on her. Miseon tells her to take down the classified ad and offers herself to work for Hyejin. Her first day at the dentist finally started and nobody has visited. They're bored out of their minds, went out and tried to think of ways to promote the dentist. The village ended up ignoring her whenever she's trying to greet them. She deserves this and Miseon notices that everyone else is ignoring her. Dusik observes her from afar looking worried and she finally tells Miseon what happened. Her friend immediately tells her to move out to avoid the red expenses and not to end up like her dad. Dusik then sees her jogging at night. Dusik advices her to at least meet with the village's expectations halfway. Be part of them. She needs to get acustomed and Dusik tells her that people make mistakes. She didnt know that the mic was turned on. He tells her not to worry as they all badmouth other people once in a while. He also tells her that since both sides are even she can move forward from this incident and start fresh. She then offers the rice cakes to the neighborhood as a way of apology. Not every delivery ended up smoothly. She ended up meeting the 2 kids from the last time. They asked for a favor to take care of their pet as they couldnt but Hyejin declined politely. She recommended Chief Hong but even Hong declined. She thought why would he ignore a child's request if he's acting high and mighty. The word has spread around even to children, they talk about how she's a cold-hearted person and this hurt Hyejin. She has no choice but to take care of the pet.

Dusik visits Chunjae and sees that he threw away his 2nd album demo casset. Dusik pays Hyejin a visit. Tells her off thinking that handing out rice cakes is enough for the village to forget about what she's done. She has to do more and be more sincere. Dusik offers his help and doesnt want her business to tank. She cant avoid them forever and Dusik invites her to a neighbor meeting. Hyejin tells him that they're all strangers and asks for support but Dusik sends her off and for her to do it alone with courage. Theyre still offended that Hyejin's standards are not met and they're surprised that she even attended. Dusik saves her by bringing snacks which were made by her. Dusik makes an excuse for her that she was edgy on moving and wants to apologize by preparing some food. The meeting is about a cleaning project they have to do and thanked Hyejin for her snacks. After the meeting Hyejin thanked him and is surprised that he ended up caring so much. Dusik gives her the bill with the snacks he bought and tells her to wire him the money. Hwajung shows up to her home and tells her to attend the weekly cleanup, she says that she just moved and as an excuse it was satisfying. But then Dusik ended up bothering her by his constant door knocking and bell ringing. She even faked her sickness but Dusik is not having it. He's acting like a strict father and forces her to join the cleaning.

A first visitor finally visited the clinic and its Euncheol. Then more visitors started coming in. Looks like a new leaf has turned. Euncheol reported back to Dusik about her treatment and the cost saying that its reasonable. Dusik visits Chunjae and tells him that his song has been imported digitally. Chunjae tells him that he shouldnt focus on the past anymore and move forward to the future. Chunjae asks for a favor from Dusik to teach him how to properly make coffee. We then see that the clinic is becoming more busy and it looks like its gearing towards sucess. They ended up with a satisfying and exhausting day. Although they suddenly thought how overnight their dentist clinic became a success and for sure Hyejin believes it's all thanks to Dusik. Hyejin bumps into Chunjae and tells him that the title track isnt her favorite but favors another and apologizes with his story. She asked where Chief Hong is and looks like his mood suddenly cheered up with her truthful compliment. Chunjae went back and listened to the track Hyejin liked. Hyejin gave him the confidence. She then finally has found Dusik sitting at the top of a small hill nearby the water.

Hyejin thanks Dusik for the many patients she received today. The ep ended up with her climbing the small rock hill but ended slipping and Dusik saved her from falling. A flashback of Dusik spending time with his grandfather. They spot a family and the father asked a favor to take a picture of them. Dusik tries to cheer up Hyejin and she ended up smiling for the photo. Is this why Dusik likes spending time with the elderly? Its because of the memories he has with his grandfather? They met before.

Du Sik is really Chief Hong. While everyone was shunning Hyejin and talking behind her back, he was the only one who became a leader and guide for her. He pointed out her mistake and encouraged her to do better, be more sincere to others.

#2021 #Hometown Cha Cha Cha

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sanguine-archived · 4 years ago

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Shield Bearer Ch. 2 Sneak Peek

I have quite a way to go before I can post chapter 2, but I wanted to give you all a sneak peak of how it starts. It’s short, but I hope you enjoy! :)

If you want more sneak peeks, let me know! I’m so excited to share this story with all of you. It’s gonna be a long ride.

Word Count: 1983 -> super short but it’s most of what I have proofread thus far.

Chapter Two: The Final Test

Compared to your previous mission, Cairo was a massive success. Daniella is safely back with S.H.I.E.L.D. to your relief, and you have a date with Natasha Romanoff…hopefully.

Given the mission was underground, you and your team had no reason to wait until nightfall to infiltrate. Thus, you are back in the U.S. by near midnight. Fortunately, Hill keeps your after action-report brief; she wants a rundown of what you saw, what you found in the lab, and the state of Daniella. Most of the key stuff is with Natasha on the hard drive (and your USB, but best not mention that), so Hill's focus with you is on the general observations and the current status of HYDRA's goons. It only takes about an hour to debrief, and you are able to retreat to your room for some much-needed rest.

You plop onto your bed, having just taken a shower, and sigh with relief as the soft mattress takes the stress off of your aching muscles. You have a sword that gives you a pretty insane healing factor, but shit still hurts. The supercharge given to your cells does wonders in the moment, but the dull ache and fatigue that sets in afterwards is a real bitch.

You lie in bed for a few minutes; your arm moving to rub your shoulder. The hot water of the shower certainly helped relax you for the moment, but damn: you are still extremely tense. With a big stretch of your arms, you sit up. Your body groans against you, but you fight the urge to go right to sleep. There are still a couple things you need to do.

You push yourself out of bed and towards your desk. Grabbing your chair, you take a seat and rummage through the front pocket of your pants. Your eyes focus on the red USB and a small piece of paper as you hold them in your hand. With a piece of tape, you press the USB to the underside of your desk; it's probably in your best interest not to let anyone know you are keeping top secret HYDRA files. You then refocus on the small, folded paper. You feel your face twist into a huge grin as you unfold it. You are greeted with a seven-digit phone number scrawled in small, yet beautiful handwriting. Natasha.

You type her number into your phone, keeping her name in your contacts as "Natasha". Is it too much to overthink this? Absolutely, but you aren't going to be the one getting caught with giving a woman you just met a few days ago a cutesy pet name.

Nat is still reporting to Fury, and most likely won't be done for a while. Considering your body's hunger for sleep, you decide to shoot her a quick text. You are really hoping that she doesn't get reassigned, although that would measure up to how romancing women has gone for you in the past.

I'm exhausted, so I'm heading to bed. Hope to see you tomorrow? x

You refuse to acknowledge how many times you have rewrite that text until you are comfortable enough to hit send. The last thing you need is for Natasha to think you are desperate…or worse, clingy. You set your alarm for five in the morning as per usual, and turn off your lights. Sliding back into bed, you plug your phone in and wait for a response. You are grateful that it is only a few minutes later when your phone chimes. The speed at which you grab your phone is embarrassing, and you are very thankful no one is around to see you.

Get some rest rookie. See you tomorrow ;)

The butterflies that were getting ready to ravage your stomach instead flutter calmly; you feel your body warm up with a sense of glee. It has been a while since you have felt such excitement. You press your phone to your chest as you smile, before sliding it to the side and going to sleep.

You wake up to your alarm--not exactly feeling refreshed, but you at least got an uninterrupted, nightmare-free sleep. Like most normal people, you hate being up anywhere close to this early, but since you've been at S.H.I.E.L.D., early mornings have become the regular, even when you sleep at nearly two in the morning. However, this morning feels different…clearer in a way, foggier in another.

Now that Daniella is out of HYDRA's hands--and in relatively safe condition as far as you are aware--your mind is put at ease. It had been eating at you since the day it happened, and while you would have liked for that space in your mind to remain empty for a while, it was instantly filled with thoughts of Romanoff.

The entire morning is spent thinking about her while you go about your routine: gathering together your gear, putting on clothes for training, and eating a small breakfast. Your thoughts aren't explicit, well most of them. Most are just of her: how she makes you feel with she's with you, when she smiles, the way she walks. There's something about Natasha that makes your heart do flips and your knees waver, even when she's just standing there. She's ethereal; waves of longing wash over you no matter how short your time together. It's a longing for connection, for closeness. You want to absorb every detail about her, no matter how small. She is slowly turning into your world, and it scares the shit out of you. The power she holds isn't something you've readily given to anyone before; this time it's flying to her faster than you thought possible, but it's impossible to stop.

Her text last night has you optimistic about being able to spend more time with her; at least long enough to take her on a date. You force yourself to be content with the idea that your date will most likely be the only thing you'll get. You've no idea how dating a fellow Avenger (assuming you become one) would be looked upon. It'll ruin you, but there isn't much that you can think to do. Not now anyway.

You are finishing your morning routine by brushing your teeth when your phone buzzes against the counter. You run your toothbrush under the water before setting it aside and rinsing out your mouth. You dry your hands, and grab your phone.

Meet me in the training room.

Looks like Nat is taking your early initiative from the other day. Maybe that means she has bad news and won’t be staying with you? God you hope not, but now your anxiety is beginning to bubble up into your throat. You settle your bag over your shoulder and grab your blade.

The halls are quiet as they usually are; you don't find anyone on the way to the training room. It appears that Natasha wakes up especially early to train, which sort of surprises you. You would have thought Steve would be up training early--he seems like the type to.

Opening the door, you see Natasha planking on a mat near the weights. Her hair is pulled back into a bun and she's wearing headphones, only in a sports bra and shorts today. Your eyes can't help but trail down her body. The muscles of her arms flex a bit as she breathes out a slow breath, drawing your mind to having her hands explore your body. Your eyes move down to the smooth skin of her back and her sides, making you want to explore her body too. Her shorts hug the curves of her hips and her ass; the biting of your lower lip happens completely involuntarily. Her legs are long and toned. If she didn't turn at that moment, you'd probably have drooled on yourself.

"You done gawking?" she pulls out her earbuds. You look away and feel your cheeks grow warm with the familiar heat you attribute to being around the Avenger. You see her stand up and start towards you from the corner of your vision. Your eyes meet hers, and you see something you have definitely not seen before: she looks happy. You are sure she's happy other times, but this is the first you've seen her express it while in your presence. The smile she gives you feels like the sun crashing into your world; you feel the skin on your face burn away and God it felt so good.

"Sorry, Nat," you say, rubbing the back of your neck. You keep your eyes glued to the ground just past her because you know you won't be able to keep them from glossing over her abs; they are much more toned than you expected, not that you should have expected anything less from her. She's an Avenger for crying out loud. She shakes her head, still with the burning smile on her face. Amidst what you assume is another flush to your face, you ask what you've been dwelling on, "I assume you being able to train with me this morning means you aren't being reassigned?"

"Nope," she says, "told Fury I needed a little more time for your assessment." The words fall delicately off of her tongue. Her raspy, low voice carrying each syllable like precious cargo; she tip toes around with her words, even when she's not nervous. It's excruciating.

"So you don't miss our date?" your mouth curls into a sly smile. Although your lunch on your first day didn't go particularly well, you've found a cozy little niche where you can tease the older woman. Your self-confidence makes you doubt she feels anything for you, but your cockiness has you constantly baiting her to reveal more.

She bats her eyelashes at you with a couple blinks, "I'm curious, what can I say?" She turns and starts walking back towards her belongings; she motions you to follow. "But I meant what I said. I don't do relationships. This is a one-time thing."

"We'll see," you say. A small smile appears on her face as she reaches down for her water bottle. "Can I assume that since you don't really have to continue testing me… I'm going to be an Avenger?"

Her head turns to you as she stands; her eyes are hard to read. "I do need to continue testing you." She tilts her head back to take a drink of water, and your eyes trail down her neck. As she tilts her head back down you shake yourself out of it and press her.

"I thought I performed pretty admirably in Cairo, what more do you need?"

"It's just a few more things I need to work out before I give you the go ahead."

"Am I allowed to know what those things are?" you ask, your voice lingering on the last syllable.

"No," she says flatly. She looks at you with her eyes raised, "Plus, it depends on what the rest of the team thinks."

"Well, you've already said that Steve and Bucky like me," you note, "and I have a feeling one other Avenger likes me too." Her expression of surprise--and perhaps, embarrassment(?)-- leaves you with a shit-eating grin as you shoot her a wink.

"I told you that I liked you on the quinjet. You're incredibly annoying, but I like you." Natasha is an expert at comebacks and deflection. "Y/N, you are definitely Avengers worthy. I wouldn't have given you the time of day if I didn't think so after our first day. Now, even if you aren't part of the team yet, we are going to train like you are."

Yet. You can't help the big smile that washes over your face, and the warm feeling of acceptance that washes over your body. You are going to be an Avenger; dreams are finally coming true.

You can read The S.H.I.E.L.D. Bearer here! (on AO3)

MASTERLIST

#shield bearer #sneak peek #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black widow #marvel oc #marvel wlw

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damn-stark · 4 years ago

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Unexpected meetings

Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader (platonic)

Requested by anon “could i request another platonic obi wan x reader with the reader being a bounty hunter again and ur old friends and you meet up again cuz obi wan needs a tip to a hunter who tried to kill padme? thanks!!!!”

A/N-its short but its sweet. I loved writing it :)

Warning- fluff, talks of violence

————-

“Hello there, I’m looking for a friend….”

The familiar deep voice echoes around the catina, ringing in your ears until your mind registers the owner of the calm, soothing voice.

Obi-wan.

A smile breaks through your features and you quickly hop off your seat to rush around the bar to see him there, with a guarded posture and eyes scanning the sketchy area whilst he also focuses on the bartender. Unaware of your presence until you made yourself known with an excited call.

“Obi-Wan!”

Said man’s head snaps to you and his eyes take a second to recognize you. For a moment not placing a name to your face, not until you lowered your hood and fully showed your face.

Obi-wan only partially glances to the man to dismiss his question. “Never mind it seems she’s found me.”

He begins to head towards you but you meet halfway and instantly wrap him in an embrace he was a little hesitant to return.

“Hello.” He greets kindly, meeting your gaze as you pull away. “Old friend.”

You scoff and turn to guide him towards your booth, replying bitterly over your shoulder, “old? Don’t say that. I am younger than you after all.”

“Hardly.”

Once you sit down you shoot him a pointed glare he can’t help but to laugh at.

“Anyway,” you breathe as you wave your hand to dismiss his comment, “what brings you to look for me? I thought you were a busy man?”

“And I thought you were more sophisticated,” his eyes study the cantina and he lifts his arms off the table to wipe the dust off his hands. “What are you doing in a place like this?”

“Gives me jobs,” you say grinning to his feigned unbothered expression. “But really what are you doing here?”

His blue eyes fall on you and he sighs as he reveals his intentions, “you’ve been hard to track,”

Or not.

“You’ve disconnected from the force?”

Of course he was going to notice. You were stupid not to believe so.

You swallow thickly and fold your arms over your chest as you hesitantly answer, “for...a while now.”

“Why? You’re skilled with it, why would you—”

“Obi-wan.” You interrupt him, “It's complicated. All you have to know is I disconnected from it after I left the order and I’ve been better off since.” You stop and try to offer him an assuring smile he doesn’t take. Yet you don’t let him continue his obvious curious questions. “Anyway, really why are you here? I’m grateful you’ve found time to see me, but it’s a little strange you’d do so.”

Obi-wan sighs and runs his hand through his hair before he chooses to leave the previous discussion unfinished. “I’m looking for someone. A certain person you might know.” He moves his hand to pull something from his robes pocket, pressing the object in his hand to show a holo-picture of a man and fellow bounty hunter with a patch over one eye named Wes Thul.

You lean close and narrow your gaze on the display, looking from it and to Obi-wan's focused gaze on you, smirking softly. “He’s my friend.”

“And I am too. In fact I’m a better friend.”

You chuckle and lean back in your seat, “I know. I was only teasing.”

Obi-wan expresses a small huff of air before he begins to explain, “well your “friend” recently tried to assassinate senator Padme Amidala. I need to know where he is to bring him to justice.”

“Or do you mean before Anakin finds him?” You snicker.

“That too.” Obi-wan sighs, continuing in trying to convince you. “So can you? For a friend?”

Letting your smile lift to a happy grin you take his hand and nod, “you know you’re my only friend, so of course.”

Pulling your hand away you sit back again and reveal the location of the man with no hesitation whatsoever. “He’s hiding on the forest planet of Sorgan. You’ll find him there. Do you need help?”

Obi-wan shakes his head before he drags his body off the seat. “I wouldn’t want to put you into trouble, I can manage it on my own.”

You scoff, feeling kind of offended he would still say that. “I’m a bounty hunter, Obi-Wan, I’m always in trouble.” You follow him after you’re out of your seat and stop him before he could go further. “Come on like old times?”

Obi wan sighs and takes your hand from your side, “I would love to have you at my side, but need I remind you the order is still looking for you. If they find you’ve been with me, they won’t take long to find you.” Discreetly he takes something from the inside of his robe and places a familiar heavy hilt on your hand. “All I can offer you is your lightsaber. You'll have more use to it than they do. It would’ve been a shame to just let it sit there collecting dust.”

You smile softly before you throw your arms around his neck to once again wrap him in a hug. “I’ve missed you my friend.”

Again Obi-wan is hesitant to return your embrace as he’s unfamiliar with showing too much affection for anyone.

But he chooses to hug you back, smiling to himself as he chose to reply. “I promise I’ll find you again and maybe under better circumstances.”

Pulling away you grin one last time, “you better.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #starwars #fanfiction #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan imagine #obi wan imagines #obi wan x y/n #obi wan kenobi #obi wan Kenobi x reader (platonic)#obi wan #obi wan fanfiction #request

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supernatural---imagines · 4 years ago

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Girlfriend: Part 5 - Tease (Dean Imagine)

Series Summary: Sam’s suspicious behaviour has you and Dean curious enough to follow him, to find out he is meeting with a Demon in secret leaves you both in shock. Based on S4 demon blood story line with a darker ending.

Pairings: Dean X Reader, Sam X Ruby, Sam X Reader (platonic)

Chapter Summary: The majority of this chapter is smut, so 18+! Dean stumbles up to your motel room after days of not speaking.

MASTERLIST

"Get out of this house right now" Dean marched towards you and pointed his finger in your face. Your breath caught in your throat as he charged over to you. Bobby tried to get between you but Dean batted him away.

"Dean, please" you started to plead.

"Get. Out." He demanded, face stern and body defensive. You'd seen this look on Deans face countless times, but you never thought it would be aimed at you. You took a few steps backwards to create some space, feeling frightened of the man in front of you.

"OK." You whimpered. You walked towards Bobby who was stood in the corner wincing at the ordeal. You pulled him into a gentle hug.

"Love you. Hopefully see you soon." You whispered in his ear before breaking the hug. You turned round once more to look at Dean, you could see the hurt on his face. The tears were itching to come out but he wouldn't let them. You walked past him without saying anything and headed straight for the door, looking over your shoulder to catch his eyes for what could've been the last time. You left the house and got back into your stolen car, and drove around 10 miles to the nearest motel.

A few days had past, you hadn't got a lot of sleep. You still had no clothes with you, so your dress and shirt was now almost a week old and stunk. You took it off and stood in your bra and panties as you decided to wash the clothes in the sink with a bar of soap. Definitely not the most efficient method but it had to be better than nothing.

You were in the bathroom scrubbing the clothes with your hand when the door knocked. You put your body behind the door and opened it tactfully to not reveal yourself to whoever was there, presumably house keeping.

Your face dropped when you saw Dean stood at your door, stinking of whiskey. You could see the impala parked lazily behind him, he definitely shouldn't have driven here.

"How'd you find me?" You asked, still behind the door. Deans arm was propped on the door frame as he looked at you.

"Come on, it's not exactly hard." He pushed his way into the motel and it suddenly became very apparent that you were half naked. You folded your arms in an attempt to cover part of yourself up.

"Wow, you're putting on a show for everyone at the motel" He spoke as his drunk eyes ogled your body. You walked towards the closet to get the motel bath robe out to cover yourself up.

"Dean, you kicked me out, I have no clothes. And anyway, I'm single now right? So what's the issue?" You snarked from the closet. You heard foot steps behind you and you froze slightly, not knowing whether his actions would be friendly. They certainly weren’t the last time you were together.

He leaned down to your ear from behind, as soon as his breath hit your skin the goosebumps followed, almost sending a shiver. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and as he inched closer to your ear, as much as you hated yourself for it, you could feel your panties starting to heat up.

"You're mine" He grumbled lowly before gently tugging on your ear with his teeth. You bowed your head and sucked in the air sharply trying to control yourself.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

You could hear the smirk in his voice, although you refused to turn round and see it. You continued to reach in and grab the robe but dean grabbed your wrist and spun you around to face him. He pulled you out of the closet and closed the door behind you, he then picked up your other wrist and pinned them both over your head, letting out a small chuckle when he saw the expression on your face.

He inched his face closer to you, lingering for far too long. You titled your face up to try and reach his lips, but he just let them graze against his own and wouldn't kiss you.

"Dean.." you breathed out, now soaking wet wanting him to take you.

"Why should I give you what you want, huh? You seriously fucked me over. Fucked us all over. " He spoke. Your wrists were now both in one of his hands as the other gently traced your inner thigh.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't want to fuck anyone over. Just Dean.. please" you begged and bucked your hips into his hand. He now had his fingers tracing the outside of your panties

“You’re so wet” He licked his lips. He let your wrists go and you instantly put your arms around his neck, you walked your body into his and stared into his messy green eyes. You reached your lips up and placed them over his, he gently bit down on your bottom lip with a smirk.

He picked you up from the backs of your thighs and roughly dropped you on the bed. He positioned his body on top of yours, still fully dressed as he dragged his tongue from your middle down to your pantyline. He scrambled his jacket and shirt off in one and dropped them at the edge of the bed without breaking eye contact with you. His black t-shirt was tight against his broad shoulders and his amulet necklace was swinging from his neck. His lips were plump and wet and as he leaned down to remove your panties,his fingers grazed over your clit making you squirm.

His smug smile spread over his plump lips as he tugged your underwear down your legs, you absolutely ached for his touch. His fingers dragged up and down your slit before sinking into you for nothing more than a second, before they were out and stroking your folds again. He did this three more times, enjoying watching you crave him.

He stood up from the bed and began to unbuckle his jeans when you clambered over to him and took his belt from his hands into your own. You tugged them down, admiring his tenting underwear for a brief second before pulling them off to. You took his cock in your hand and jerked it before leading it to your mouth and sucking on his head. His hands found your hair and bunched it in his hands and he guided your mouth up and down on himself. You began to moan on to his cock when he pushed you off him.

“Why are you allowed any fun, huh?” He pushed you back on the bed and crawled on top of you. “You fucked everything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry!” You yelled as your hand reached for his dick, attempting to put it inside you, but he knocked your hand away. He plunged two fingers into you without warning, causing a gasp from you. He began curling them in the exact right spot he knew you loved, while his thumb found it’s way to your clit. His lips lingered on yours, still barley kissing you as he teased.

“I’m going to cum” You moaned into his mouth as you felt the heat building inside you when he snickered and suddenly stopped.

“Dean!” You yelled in annoyance, you couldn’t hold out much longer.

You pushed him off of you and he sat up, legs over the side of the bed. You scrambled on top of him and kissed him properly, forcing your tongue in his mouth as he finally gave in. He lifted you in the air slightly so you could grab his cock and position it before sinking down onto it. He groaned into your mouth as you kept kissing and began to ride. His hands were gripping tightly on both your hips, you could feel the bruising forming beneath his finger tips. You were already close after all the teasing and began to ride faster. You pulled away from his lips as your hands laid around the back of his neck you could tell by his face he was close too.

“Cum with me” You said as your breathing began to shorten and pressure began to build up in your core. He began to grunt as your pussy gripped tightly around his dick as you rode out your high screaming, you felt the hot liquid fill you as Dean groaned in your ear.

You sat on him for a moment and looked into his eyes, now that the heat was gone you could see the real pain behind them and you started to feel immense guilt about the situation you’d put him in.

You got off him and went to the bathroom, no words spoken between you. You looked at the pile of clothes in the sink and snickered, you really didn’t see any of this happening. You knew you and Dean breaking up was your fault, you knew the intense pain and cause of the drinking was your fault too. Now that he was here, you were hoping you could talk to him, take full responsibility and hopefully try to clear the air between you both a little bit.

You got off the toilet and rinsed your hands in the full sink, you dried off and went back into the main room hoping to talk to Dean when you heard the door shut and seconds later, the impala engine roaring up. You walked to the window and moved the curtain back and saw Dean looking at your room, your face was sad as he stared at you with little emotion, and continued to reverse out of the car park and drove away.

READ PART 6

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester one shot

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jetsetlife138 · 5 years ago

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Imaginary - Chapter 11

Rating: Mature Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Explicit Language, Seduction Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

What a night.

The throbbing in your head was unyielding as you woke. Blinking your eyes in a daze, you rubbed the last remnants of sleep away with your fists before rolling onto your back with a groan.

Pained and disoriented, you eventually forced your eyes open, squinting into the red-tinted glare from the window. Sunlight had been a thing of the past. Instead, Hell was lit with fire and brimstone, which cast a permanent crimson glow throughout the Seven Rings.

Relieving a sigh, you murmured to yourself, "It was just a dream," before pressing your face into your pillow, noting how strangely familiar it smelled. It didn't smell like you. Where had you smelled that before? The scent was masculine, similar to woodlands mixed with rain and spices.

You knew that smell.

Flinging yourself upward, you choked on your breath in horror as you took in your surroundings, now wide awake.

This wasn't your room.

Last night's events came crashing down on you like a ton of bricks, the effects similar to that of a cold shower, sobering you instantly.

Panic was coursing through your veins as your mind raced, trying to make sense of how you had gotten from the library to his bed, your memories seemingly lost. A sob wretched from your throat as you began to recall the assault, confusion and terror prevalent in the mix of emotions you were feeling.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart!" The Radio Demon emerged from the shadows in the far corner of the room, approaching you with an amused expression. "How are you feeling?"

Instantaneous rage boiled to the surface, fracturing any hopes you had in appearing calm or indifferent to obtain the upper hand. "How the fuck do you think I'm feeling?!"

Alastor cocked a brow. "I would presume that you are experiencing a... oh, what's the word they use these days? 'Hangover'?"

If looks could kill, he would have been slain on the spot. Alastor appeared to be almost taken aback by your hostility as he examined your livid expression. Unshed tears threatened to spill over as your breath quickened. It was clear now what exactly you were feeling. Used, disgusted, and angry.

Had you not been so distracted by your own suffering, you might have noticed the apprehensive tilt of his head or the subtle concern in his gaze. Granted, it was difficult to truly determine anything that he was feeling behind that damned smile that never seemed to leave his face. It wasn't in his nature to be nurturing or caring in any way, so why would he even bother at this point? At least, that's what you told yourself.

The demon approached you, extending a helping hand. Wrenching yourself from beneath the blankets, you scrambled from the bed and took a defensive stance in front of him, cradling yourself with one arm while the other was outstretched, warding him off. "Don't. Touch. Me." It was a struggle to keep your tone steady as you swallowed back the tears in fear of appearing weak. Instead, you were forceful, your eyes blazing as you wished for nothing more than to watch him burn in the deepest, darkest pit of Hell.

Confusion was etched in his features along with a hint of admiration. As he had openly admitted during your prior conversations, he enjoyed your brazen and stern disposition. You weren't a pushover by any means, and it was one of the reasons he took a liking to you.

"My apologies if I startled you. I was simply trying to aid you out of bed." His voice was infuriatingly calm. It enraged you that he could so easily appear unaffected. It was just another nail in his coffin lid that you intended to shut him in for the rest of eternity.

"After what you did to me?! You think that you can just assault me and then be all helpful ?! Like nothing happened?!"

"...'Assault'?" he dragged the word out like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. "I'm afraid I'm not following."

It was a knee-jerk reaction. Drawing your arm back, you swung it towards him forcefully, fully intent on punching him square in the jaw before he caught your first effortlessly in a gloved hand. "Hmm. It appears that we’re getting nowhere. You'll have to forgive me for what I'm about to do, my dear."

Before you could retaliate, he used your current position to drag you forward, catching you off-guard so that you unintentionally fell into him. "Now, let's see what's troubling you," he murmured, securing you tightly against him. He then placed his other hand on the top of your head while his eyes glowed with power as he sifted through your memories, just as he had done before when you had first arrived.

Unlike the last time, and much to your horror, you were fully conscious as he sought what he was after in your mind. Last night's occurrence was something that you wanted to repress and keep locked away deep in your subconscious, and yet there you were, watching it unfold before your eyes like it had happened all over again.

For the first time since you had met him, his smile faltered. The edges of his ever-present grin turned down into a downright scowl. Gone was the amiable optimism and amused goading. The displeasure that crept into the Radio Demon's face was vivid and fierce. His hold around you tightened, numbing your skin under the pressure.

When he finally released you, he said nothing, his expression implacable as you stumbled back, hating that you had to relive last night's experience for his own amusement.

Except he looked far from amused. He looked downright murderous. The air around him crackled threateningly with static as his eyes flickered in and out of their horrifying dial-shaped irises, giving you goosebumps.

Catching himself, as quick as his smile faded, it had returned to its natural upward state as he digested what he had just seen, contemplating his response.

Finally, he spoke, his eyes dark and piercing. "What happened to you," he spoke slowly and dangerously softly, the underlying rage palpable, "Will not go unpunished."

Releasing a disbelieving huff, you barked back, "Are you delusional? What makes you think that-"

"Stop. Talking." His voice had taken on a vicious edge as he took a step towards you, his hands folded tightly behind his back in restraint. "Listen to me carefully, precious. It wasn't real. It was a farce. It appears you've fallen victim to quite a potent Mickey Finn. Your ignorance as a living and breathing human has been taken advantage of, and the salacious activities that you believe occurred were no more than an outlandish hallucination."

Your eyes widened, searching his face for any indication of deceit. It couldn't have been your mind playing tricks on you... could it? It had felt so real...

Distracted by the revelation, you hadn't noticed that he had closed the gap between the two of you and was now within arms reach. "As I have mentioned countless times before, I have no intention of harming you. Take comfort in the fact that I do have morals, limited as they may be, and I would never force myself on anyone. Any part of myself," he emphasized, probably referring to the tentacles. Awkward.

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that." Your voice came out barely above a whisper, the intensity of your stare expressing your feelings more than words ever could.

After a moment of reflection, he answered, "No, I suppose not." He looked almost disappointed behind his sinister smile. "Perhaps I can prove it to you."

Terror urged you to run, but curiosity kept you in place as he loomed above you, somehow rendering you paralyzed as he reached out to you yet again. This time, you allowed him to make contact as he trailed a finger along your shoulder, testing the waters. "Summon my shadow."

Eyeing him skeptically, you scoffed, "And why would I do that?"

You wanted to defy him, purely out of spite, but the look on his face convinced you otherwise. Without further protest and finally putting your practice to use, you concentrated on making his staff appear. With a wave of your hand, it manifested in your arms. It was thrumming with magic, making your skin tingle beneath its touch. You didn't think you would ever get used to that.

"Okay?" you sneered, still not understanding what that would prove. "What does your shadow have to do with anything?"

He glared back at you, as if insulted by your implied cynicism. You stiffened, even though you knew his tactics were always meant to unsettle and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction, you couldn't help your small reaction.

"He sees what I see," he finally divulged. How vague.

Rather than push him for more answers, you knew that he would decline until his shadow was present. Closing your eyes, you beckoned for the creature to come forth and reveal itself before the both of you.

The microphone perched at the top of the staff shook for a moment as a layer had peeled off from the stem, curling around your fingers before expanding and forming into an eerily-shaped mass of transparent sable, eagerly glancing back and forth between its masters.

The Radio Demon stepped forward, his formal posture never wavering as he nodded to the shadow, communicating with him telepathically. The creature's grin grew sickeningly more sinister as it registered the unspoken commands.

Without warning, it leapt at you, surrounding you in darkness. Before you could even scream, your vision blurred and you were suddenly transported elsewhere.

"Hey, Al. You gotta minute?"

That voice... It sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite place it yet.

"Why, for you, Husker, I have an eternity."

Wait a minute. This happened already. You remember this.

As your vision cleared, you released a breath when you saw yourself standing with Charlie and Vaggie talking together in the hotel lobby. It was then you realized that you were viewing the memory from another perspective that wasn't your own. It was Alastor's.

His line of vision switched focus from you over to Husk who had beckoned him away from the scene. The two of them walked into an adjacent room, which appeared to be the kitchen.

Casually leaning up against the wall, Alastor gazed at Husk expectantly.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Husk's voice was harsh and accusatory.

"Why, I haven't the faintest-"

"Cut the bullshit."

Tension filled the air as Alastor's eyes narrowed at Husk's equally threatening glare.

Not waiting for a response, Husk continued, "You've never shown interest in anyone. Ever. Not unless they were a means to an end. So what's the deal, Al? Why are you infatuated with the girl? What are you planning? It can't be anything good."

"I'm just being hospitable," the Radio Demon explained with thinly veiled facetiousness. "As you can well imagine, this has been quite the adjustment for our young friend. Come now, Husker. Is it a crime to provide comfort and aid?"

"You've never cared about anyone before, let alone their comfort levels."

"That's not entirely true," Alastor countered, raising a finger to emphasize his point. "I often find delight in causing incredible discomfort ."

The cat demon rolled his eyes before taking a deep and calming breath. "You know what I meant, you arrogant bastard. I'm not gonna stand here and argue semantics with you. Tell me the truth, or I'm outta here."

Alastor flexed his fingers in warning, which Husk had immediately noticed, but refused to back down. You noted that he was either incredibly brave, or had no regard for his own life as he challenged one of the most feared demons in Hell.

"I have never lied to you, Husker." Just as the cat demon opened his mouth to argue, Alastor held up his hand to silence him. "I will admit that I am not always an open book, but I've never been untruthful. Not to you, old friend." His tone was wry but you weren't sure if he was joking, and by Husk's expression, neither could he.

Alastor outright laughed at his friend's scowl, angering the feline further. "I shit you not, Al. If I find out that you pulled me outta nowhere just to watch you sabotage the chance of returning a breather to where she belongs, I'll hurl you straight into the Seventh Ring myself."

The Radio Demon inclined his head, eyes crueler than you had ever seen them. "I hardly think that’s necessary," he replied coldly. "I'm surprised at you, losing your head over a girl. Here you scold me for supposedly showing uncharacteristic interest when you yourself are expressing abnormal compassion. I believe that's the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn't you say?"

A growl erupted from the cat. "I haven't lost my head! I'm just tired of inadvertently helping you fuck people over! I'm old and was happily retired until you 'volunteered my services' here. I don't really care about what happens to the girl. I care about what happens to me when the other overlords, or worse, Lucifer finds out what you're up to. Because I know it's something. I've known you too long to buy into your bullshit."

Alastor was picking at his sleeve now, showing no interest whatsoever in their conversation any longer. "Curiosity killed the cat, Husker," he chided, a warning masked with malevolent pleasantness.

Husk's eyes flashed. "I'm already dead, you sanctimonious prick."

"Calm yourself and have a drink, my friend," Alastor insisted. With a twirl of his finger, a bottle of booze appeared on the counter next to the cat. Husk eyed it with interest before ignoring it, which must have taken a lot of willpower from what you knew about him. "You cannot fool me. I know that somewhere behind all of that fur and loathing is a heart, bitter as it may be."

"I lost the ability to love years ago," he spat.

"And yet, here we are, having this discussion."

"Al, be straight with me," Husk practically pleaded. "Whatever insane plan you are concocting up in that certifiable brain of yours, don't get in over your head. I know you think you're indestructible, but you're not. Don't be an idiot."

"I've indulged this conversation long enough. Trust me, my feline cohort. When the time is right, all will be revealed. Until then, be mindful of my privacy." His expression was downright feral, actually making you concerned for Husk's well-being.

Rather than be intimidated, Husk sighed deeply, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat. "Fine, Al. Have it your way."

Alastor was quiet for a moment, eyeing what was probably one of the very few friends that he had with consideration before he spoke again. "Must we argue? Come, you must show me how you managed to achieve a Full House with a joker in your hand. I'm sure it's a delightful tale."

Time somehow sped up during his retelling of his evening. You witnessed as he and Husk engaged in friendly banter while Husk showed off his poker and drinking skills. Though there was still a touch of hostility in the air, they were able to enjoy each other's company regardless. It was almost endearing to see Alastor enjoying himself with someone he considered a friend.

The other thing you had noticed was that it had been hours that they spent together, which would have been while you were supposedly being assaulted in the library.

After a few hands of poker, the two decided to pack it in for the night and were headed to their rooms. That's when they heard groaning coming from the library as they passed.

"The fuck was that?" Husk asked aloud, his words slightly slurred from his excessive intake of alcohol.

"Hmm..." Alastor hummed aloud. "Let's investigate, shall we?"

Opening up the door to the library, they found you sprawled on the floor, unconscious and smelling very strongly of liquor.

Husk chuckled at your inebriated state, having been in that situation many times himself. "Musta had a tough day. This wasn't your doing, was it?"

Alastor seemed offended by the accusation. "I assure you, I had no part in this." He tsked in disapproval, shaking his head in pity at you. "I suppose we should assist the poor thing."

Husk narrowed his eyes at him. "Be careful, Al." His words had a double meaning.

With a knowing smirk, the Radio Demon bent down and gathered your limp body in his arms as he lifted you with ease. "Sleep well, my friend," he called over his shoulder as he carried you effortlessly up the stairs, completely surpassing your room and continuing down the hall to what you had assumed was his own.

He then used his powers to pull back the sheets on his bed before laying you down with uncharacteristic tenderness. You released a hiccup as you settled in, making him grin.

Tucking you under the covers, he paused for a moment to stare at you as he stood tall next to the bed. His eyes took in every part of you before he hesitantly brushed back a piece of hair covering your face. He then grabbed a book from his nightstand and retreated to the far corner of the room, where he sat in a lounge chair, and silently began to read his book, seemingly perfectly content.

None of it made sense. If Alastor wasn't with you in the library, who were you with? Why would they trick you and make you think you were assaulted by Alastor? Also, why was Husk so worried about you? Better yet, why would Alastor just reveal to you his private conversation with Husk? Could you even trust that any of it was real? Wait... where did Alastor sleep last night? Did he even sleep? What was going on?!

The room suddenly went dark, pulling you out of the vision and throwing you back into the present.

Alastor's shadow retreated from you, hovering beside you with a proud and equally wicked grin. You released a breath that you didn't realize you were holding as you forced yourself to meet Alastor's expectant gaze as he waited for validation.

Underlying his suspicious demeanor and behind his obvious machinations was the undeniable fact that he was telling the truth. You couldn't explain how you knew. Something in the way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know.

"T-that was... I mean, I can't... " The words were caught in your throat as you came to terms with what was right in front of you. "I could have sworn it was you..." You had to look away then, shame and embarrassment making your face flush.

"Hardly a complimentary comparison," he jeered spitefully. "So you assumed I was a sexual deviant intent on having my way with you after rendering you incapacitated?"

You looked up then and immediately wished you hadn't. Judging from the thinly-veiled darkness in his expression, he was genuinely insulted, and it made you sweat under his heated gaze.

"It was the work of a coward," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I hold myself in a higher regard. Should that be something I wanted to engage in, I would do so without the need to hinder your mind."

The surge of excitement that went through your body at his words made you sick. Even after what you had experienced, regardless of the fact that it wasn't even him that did it, something inside of you craved that part of him. You were demented. You were gross. You were-

"Don't think I haven't considered it."

Your head shot up, your feelings of self-loathing interrupted by his admission.

"C-considered what?"

"Making you mine."

Sucking in a breath, you tried to quickly collect yourself, desperately trying not to let him show the affects his words had on you. "You... you've already tried."

"Hmm, not quite," he cooed, taking a predatory step toward you.

"Why would you even say that?" you stammered, trying to make sense of him. "I know that you don't have romantic partners. Intimacy doesn't interest you. We've already been through this."

"Indeed. However, it interests you."

"I mean... yeah. But first of all, you’re a cartoon. I don’t even understand the mechanics of our anatomy here. To be honest I’m not really sure if I want to go down that road. Even if we could… uh… do stuff, I can’t imagine that you would get any satisfaction out of it. No one wants to be used like that-"

"You presume to know what I want or what I will obtain from an amorous endeavor with you," he cut you off, still approaching you. Whether you were too stubborn or too terrified to move, your legs had refused to operate. It was probably the latter. "You see, I enjoy pleasure in many different forms. Engaging in physical intercourse for my own gratification? No. I do not fancy that in the slightest. Making you squirm and watching you beg, completely at my mercy when I make you come undone by my own hands? Undoubtedly."

The words didn't even get a chance to sink in before he descended upon you. Without warning or waiting for permission, his head dipped and he kissed you.

His lips were firm and soft against your own as he devoured you - as if he had something to prove. The kiss had been quite different from the awkward turned hungry one you'd had before. It took you by surprise in a way it shouldn't have. Then again, everything Alastor did took you by surprise, and you weren't sure if you were ever going to understand him or his actions.

Acting on instinct, you clutched his jacket, drawing him closer to you as he responded in kind, wrapping one arm around your waist to hold you closer while the other cupped your cheek. You felt him smirk against your lips, like it was the kiss of a victor.

Reality slowly came crashing down, causing you to break the kiss, pulling back with a sigh. Alastor rested his forehead against your own for a brief moment, though you suspected it wasn't to catch his breath. Your body was still quivering, much to your chargin, so you stepped back to distance yourself. He released you without complaint, his crimson eyes locked onto your own as you collected yourself.

You had hoped that a change of subject would alleviate some of the intensity of the situation. "So, um... who would want to make me think it was you in the library last night? What was the point? Who has that kind of power?"

His posture stiffened so suddenly, it caught you off-guard, his face losing all traces of its earlier effervescence. The malignant veil was back in place and as terrifying as ever.

"I cannot yet say for certain," he began, the hostility in his voice evident as he smiled saccharinely, his eyes black voids in his pale face. "But I have an idea of where to start." -------------------------------------------

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