#as in kidnaps you if you happen to be too close when they gallop by

[angrybatart]

Still on a crossover thing...

Sky Guide/Spirit Wander with Light Creature Agro. Demonstrating a new call. (Not real, but I'd kill to have it.)

The yellow mark looks yucky, to me, in person. But the camera shot makes it look better.

[jensettermandu]

beware - kim minjeong

genre; smut

pairing; tattooist!winter x rockstar!female reader

content; smut, cunnilingus (r. giving), fingering (r, giving), brief mention of choking and spanking, implications of an unhealthy relationship, winter and reader both have piercings and tattoos but it doesnt go too much into it!

wc; 3.8k+

masterlist.

Her feet came to a stop, looking at the tattoo place and hoping that Minjeong wouldn’t throw her out this time too, last time was in the middle of the night, out in the middle of nowhere in a cheap motel. Her eyes scanned through the big glass windows, seeing the shorter girl who was sitting on the saddle chair with her back facing the window.

Minjeong slowly finished fixing her station, cleaning every little thing and organising everything, hating when her workstation would be messy. It wouldn’t even pass by Richie if it was and she was sure she would get fired as the guy had a lot of high-end clients because the place was known and had celebrities stopping by. 

She was somewhat underpaid despite having more clients than most of the other tattooists because of her designs and skill, but she knew that if she got hired anywhere she wouldn’t even get half the pay. It was a dog-eat-dog world in the end. 

Her ears were being graced with the heavy instrumental and the aggressive vocal fry of the metal song playing, that was until they were graced with the opening of the door. 

She was closing tonight and hated people who couldn’t read closing hours that were written clearly on the glass doors. “It clearly says that it’s closed.” She informed with an annoyed grumble, sighing as she waited for a response only to get none. 

Her ears tried to catch any sound of whoever entered as she had yet to turn around which was difficult with the music distorted music. She at last decided to turn around only to get stopped, her heart jumped up in rate at the cold hand that clasped over her mouth, the yelp muffled—in fear the first thing she did was elbow the person.

“Fuck–” She quickly turned around at the familiar voice that groaned in pain. “You’re fucking strong.” Y/n whined as she crouched down, holding onto the side of her ribs after the powerful blow. She was aware that Minjeong was strong after being manhandled by her in bed, but she didn’t expect her to have such reflexes. If she knew she wouldn’t have tried to scare her. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” Minjeong exclaimed, her hands wrapping around the girl's arms who looked up at her with her lower lip puckered. The girl’s heart eased from the galloping that it did when she thought she would die or get kidnapped. 

“You should know the answer.” Y/n’s voice came out somewhat strained from the pain.

Minjeong helped her back up on her feet, dragging the frail girl up by the arms. The strong scent of vanilla on the singer invaded her nose as she hadn’t been around the scent for a while. 

Minjeong sucked air through her teeth and shook her head, looking at the girl although her eyes trailed her stomach and the pierced navel first before going higher up. The band member was busy massaging her ribs slightly. “You’re a female yourself, you should know what is bound to happen if you think from my perspective for a second.” The girl complained and Y/n’s gaze fell on her at last. 

“I’ve been told that I see from the perspective of an idiot and not a woman and anyone can be an idiot.” She said with a small shrug, fixing the leather jacket as it had moved around from how she tried to see if Minjeong managed to bruise her. It was just slightly red. 

She hummed and turned back around on the chair to her station to finish up what she was doing. “Whoever said it was right,” Minjeong confirmed as the girl seemed quite reckless from what she’d seen on stage and now. 

“It was Richie—Is he in?” Y/n replied and looked back, deciding to sit down on the tattoo chair. 

“No, I’m closing tonight.”

Y/n looked around the chair that had a bunch of levers to be pulled and whatnot. The girl pulled one and reclined it further back before lifting her head and looking at the two separate legrests connected to it. “This could pass as some BDSM type of chair, would you let me eat you out on it?” Y/n questioned as ideas started to pile in her head about how she could position the girl in the chair or the tattooist position her. 

Minjeong finished and she turned back around to see the girl playing around with the levers and adjusting the chair. “No, there are windows right there and stop before you break something.” She slid over on the saddle chair she was in and grabbed hold of the girl’s hand, making Y/n look back up as she had been looking under the chair. 

The rockstar that had been plaguing Minjeong lately blew away the strand of hair that fell in front of her eyes and the two locked eyes, Y/n smiling at the girl. “But it could work if there weren’t any windows.” Y/n prompted as the idea as a whole didn’t have to be excluded if it hadn’t been for the windows. 

Minjeong let go of her hands and manoeuvred around to be in front of the girl. “If you’d do this…” She trailed off as she grabbed hold of the girl's legs, making sure that each was on the leg rests. Y/n watched the girl with a small smile, both of them in a better mood than the last time they were together. 

They had been able to wind down and relax after their latest rendezvous that had been intense with emotions; from the night they spent on the shitty mattress in the cheap motel to the constant fights they could have whenever they were together. Passionate, but in all the wrong ways as they both could still taste the bitterness of alcohol and the saltiness of tears on their lips. 

“Is this what you had in mind?” She asked as she pushed each leg rest apart, biting her lip as she parted the girl's legs and slid closer. Minjeong’s hands trailed over Y/n’s smooth and long legs, the scent of caramel and vanilla lingered along her skin.

Y/n hummed as the fingers ran over her knees and to her inner thighs. Minjeong’s fingers gently traced up creating goosebumps while she watched her fingers disappear under the black mini-skirt. Y/n expectantly watched until Minjeong caught her lust-filled gaze.

“Too bad there are windows then.” Minjeong reminded as she wasn’t going to risk getting fired if someone saw them and wouldn’t mind their business. She slid right back, teasing the girl and Y/n frowned, pulling the seat back up to sit straight as it had been reclined. 

“When do you get off?” Y/n asked.

“In 15.” She informed her and slid right back to her place. The heat that was pooling would have to wait a bit more, although neither knew how to make the time pass quicker because talking would mean having to beat around the bush of their last fight or talking about it which they never did. It was easier to fuck away the memories. 

“I won’t need more to make you tremble,” Y/n said and hopped down the chair, Minjeong’s eyes widened slightly when the taller girl grabbed hold of her hand and pulled on her. The girl rolled a bit on the chair before she managed to get up–ignoring her chair that fell over in the process. 

“Y/n–”

“It’s 15 minutes to waste doing something better than sitting around.” The lithe girl cut her off and Minjeong followed the girl who knew her way around the place. 

They walked past the counter and pushed aside the grey curtain that hid the small corridor that led to the office, bathrooms, changing room, and the first door on the left that Y/n decided to push open to not waste time—the supply room. The girl opened the door and blindly reached for the small light switch while entering and pulling Minjeong in after her. 

“I’m not trying to get fired for having sex in the supply room,” Minjeong muttered as all the ink, sanitisers and whatnot were stacked on the metal storage shelves. The door closed in the dimly lit room that just fit them both. 

“Trust me—” Y/n started and turned the girl around, Minjeong somewhat squirming at how cold the hands that gripped the flesh of her ass were. “We aren’t getting caught.”

Minjeong didn’t get the chance to question the girl’s words when all she did do was push her tongue against Y/n’s tongue when their lips met in that familiar kiss that was needy and somewhat sloppy. The barbell massaged against her tongue, making Minjeong play with it as she tilted her head to get more of Y/n’s mouth and lip gloss that tasted of vanilla. 

It was the least Y/n could do after their messy night.

Y/n squeezed the flesh in her hands, Minjeong hummed and ran a hand under the cropped tee. “You have a nice ass.” Y/n breathed out as Minjeong ’s fingers trailed up her ribs before she cupped the girl’s breast and ran her thumb over the hard nipple, this time the girl had simple barbells, making it easier for Minjeong to tug at the bud. 

“I’d have to say the same to you.” The shorter girl replied with her face nuzzling into the taller girl's neck to leave kisses that sent shivers through her whole spine, her lip rings gracing Y/n’s skin with a slight cold.

Y/n bit her lower lip as she pulled the skirt up over Minjeong ’s ass who pulled away and looked up at her. The air was cold against their hot skin and the blonde’s ass was left exposed in the lacy underwear. 

“But I love your hands on me.” The vixen hummed at Minjeong ’s words and pulled her right hand away, the other still gripping her other ass cheek.

The slender hand came to view, the same fingers that worked Minjeong’s pussy until it hurt and left her dripping wet onto her sheets, the hand that made her arch and squirm. Somehow just seeing the singer and guitarist's hand made Minjeong imagine what it had done and what more it could do. 

It made Minjeong lean in as Y/n gripped the side of her neck, thumb caressing the thudding pulse below the soft and inked skin where a tattoo started and trailed down. Their breaths mingled the tattooist stared up at her scum of a girlfriend if she could even call the problematic rockstar that. At least she was her tattooist, wasn’t she? She felt at mercy under Y/n’s touch and gaze, it was predatory, but she found comfort in the danger. 

Her peaceful life of tattooing people day to day turned into one of chaos drenched in ecstasy which made everything bearable. God, Minjeong despised her girlfriend as much as Y/n probably despised her, but at the same time, she loved just as much as she hated, the same way Y/n did. 

Y/n’s tongue stuck out, smoothing her hand over the slim neck until it was in her hold, toying with the lip ring on Minjeong’s plump lips that were wet and swollen. 

“Y/n.” Her voice was thick with lust, her cunt already throbbing as she wanted the fingers to work on her until her pussy was raw and aching from being at it for too long once again. A barely there whine at the teeth that tugged at her bottom lips, loving how the hand gently squeezed her throat while another kneaded her ass. Her nails dug into the side of Y/n’s ribs where her hand was under the girl's shirt. 

The two pulled back into each other, tongues moving against each other in heat and slickness. A gasp followed with a hum at the stinging when Y/n’s hand harshly clasped with Minjeong’s ass cheek the sound bouncing off the walls, gripping it and pulling her closer while Minjeong squeezed the breast she cupped in her hand.

The two stepped back as Y/n guided the way between the two metal shelves with her hands letting go of Minjeong and moving to grip her slim waist. Their lips parted from the messy kiss, only leaving remnants of salvia after each other. 

She slipped her hand from under Y/n’s shirt, running both her hands to her shoulders as Y/n leaned into her jaw, kissing along it with lips leaving a trail of shivers and goosebumps after, making Minjeong ’s chest heave a bit quicker.

“Fuck.” Minjeong sighed at the way Y/n nipped at her skin and moved her hand up to play with her nipples, her pace picking up as she kissed along her exposed collarbones. Her hand kneaded Minjeong’s breast through the spaghetti top that stopped right by her belly button, the hard and sensitive nipples protruding through the dark material as she was without a bra. Y/n pulled Minjeong closer by her waist, making it easier for her to lean down to her breasts. The blonde gasped when Y/n’s teeth tugged at her bud through the shirt, making her whine at the pain yet pleasure as she unconsciously tried to push Y/n to get down on her knees.

The singer hummed before pressing her pierced tongue against the same nipple through the shirt. It eased the pain and increased the throbbing of Minjeong’s clit who was holding back on moans because she had yet to touch her wet cunt and she already felt whiny. The words that followed from Y/n’s mouth made Minjeong push her onto her knees at last. 

“Gonna spend all my love and money on you.” Y/n’s voice humidly left her as she got down on her knees in front of Minjeong who held onto the top of her head. Their words tended to be fabricated and Minjeong was tired of listening to them; she preferred to have Y/n show it even if it would be in a different way from what anyone would expect.

The tattooist only had herself to blame for falling and getting tangled in the web of an unstable rockstar who was running a reckless life. It left marks on Minjeong, probably scarred and the only marks she left were with a needle and ink. 

“Shut up and show me instead.” Y/n looked up at the girl above her and smiled while running her hands up Minjeong’s smooth thighs which would have her in a choke hold while her face would be buried in her sweet pussy. 

The girl pushed up the skirt before attaching her lips to Minjeong ’s thighs. She could feel the girl holding back from squeezing her legs shut as she continued to kiss the inside of them with her nimble fingers running to the hem of the black lace panties.

Y/n pulled away and pulled down the panties, seeing the clear spot of wetness that Minjeong had left after her. She helped her out of them before stuffing them in the pocket of her jacket. 

“I want them back after.” The blonde managed to let out during her anticipation of getting her pussy eaten by the girl on her knees in front of her. 

“Do I come off as someone who steals panties?” Y/n questioned as she made Minjeong part her legs, giving her a perfect view of the glistening heaven between her legs. The vixen licked her lips and guided Minjeong’s right leg, her converse covered foot planting on the bottom shelf of the storage shelves. 

“You do, I’ve known you long enough.” Minjeong grabbed hold of Y/n’s head, her back pressed against the wall as her chest heaved. 

“You’re not wrong.” A cheeky smile covered Y/n’s lips as she leaned back in and started to kiss along Minjeong’s right thigh, the leg being propped against the shelf.

“I know I’m not, I’m missing pairs.” The girl breathily mumbled.

Y/n didn’t reply and instead reached her fingers up to Minjeong’s puffy and swollen lips using two fingers to part them. She leaned in between her legs—Minjeong releasing a light moan at the tongue that ran up from her clenching hole up to her throbbing clit. 

Y/n gathered the slickness around the bud that she swirled with her tongue before going back down and doing the same thing again. Minjeong’s juices gathered themselves on her tongue, the taste robust on her tongue and addicting, making Y/n dp it much messier to have as much as possible to lick up after leaving Minjeong a sopping mess.

The light moans and whimpers gradually picked up as Y/n continued to run her tongue along the lips she held spread with her fingers. As she gathered enough around the swollen clit she made Minjeong gasp, the grip tightening in her hair and Minjeong’s other hand quickly grabbed hold of the shelf post for balance. Things clattered as they fell from how abruptly she grabbed it, the shelf not being mounted to the wall. She hadn’t been prepared for the harsh suckling Y/n would provide with her mouth on her clit. 

“Fuck—that’s so good,” Minjeong whined, her head slumping against the wall as she closed her eyes. Her hips gyrated into Y/n’s face, unable to even try and hold still at the tongue that was flicking at her clit while Y/n moved her fingers down, teasing around the grasping hole that seeped with more wetness, running down her thighs. 

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers.” The girl moaned out, feeling Y/n tease around her hole with her fingers, remembering the view of them from earlier. The words made Y/n moan against Minjeong ’s cunt, the girl on her knees squeezing her thighs together. “To just play with my pussy until it hurts.” She spurred, wanting to get fucked until her vision would blur again, to get fucked over and over again as it made her forget everything. 

Minjeong moaned, her back arching at the two fingers that pushed into the warmth of her walls that were thudding, tightly engulfing them as they got clenched around with each moan. 

With her lips wrapped around the girl's clit she continued to suckle while flicking her tongue, Minjeong’s moans becoming louder and her grip on her hair tighter as her hips bucked into Y/n. She continued to scissor her fingers inside the girl, doing her best to adjust the tight hole more. The room filled with the moans, whines, whimpers and squelching of her pussy and the mess Y/n’s mouth was making.

The blonde could feel her body heat up at the firm yet soft muscle flicking at her swollen bud. She hummed, swallowing the dryness in her mouth as she tugged Y/n’s face more into her dripping pussy, the fingers stretching her out from the motion and being eaten out was one of the best things she could have gotten from her girlfriend at the moment. 

“Can you take one more?” Y/n pulled away mumbling, making Minjeong look down. The heat crashed in her stomach at the lead singer who was so assaultive on stage but was on her knees with a glint of submission in her eyes that were circled by the smudged eyeliner as her chin glistened with her juices, looking like she hadn’t eaten in years. It made Minjeong believe that Y/n could be different to her compared to what she truly was in front of everyone else. 

“Yeah, just keep fucking me.” 

Y/n couldn’t have gotten a better confirmation as she leaned back in with her tongue licking up and lips wrapping right around Minjeong’s clit again. This time she slowly pushed a third finger inside Minjeong’s snug walls which was enough for them to tighten at the stretch. She slowly moved her fingers, massaging and pressing her spongy wall while her tongue worked quickly, contrasting the slow strokes of her slender fingers. 

The pleasure overwhelmed the slight sting of three fingers being pushed right into her tightness. Her juices leaked, running down Y/n’s wrist who was lost in the way she had Minjeong so worked up. 

The build-up was fast at how her g-spot was pressed at and the work of the quick tongue, the hard barbell occasionally massaging added to the sensations that were blurring her head. All that Minjeong could hear were her noises, Y/n’s purr-like hums and how messy it was. Her mind filled with black as her eyes shut tightly and she gripped the post hard—something shifting and falling once again at how her body spasmed and she accidentally yanked on it from how sudden it was. 

Y/n glanced up at the girl who arched her back off the wall and threw her head back, her cunt pushing into Y/n’s mouth. A splatter of words fell from Minjeong and the girl couldn’t figure out what they were as they sounded more like whimpers. 

“So good, I want to cum all over your tongue, Y/n.” It made Y/n moan once again, wanting nothing more than for Minjeong to let go of everything on her tongue and face.

Minjeong felt the tingling spread through her body, her legs trembling and her eyebrows furrowed. Her breath hitched and warmth washed over her like a hot shower. Crying out at the orgasm that was way more intense than she expected in these circumstances as she felt lightheaded and white flashed behind her eyelids. 

Y/n tightened her grip on Minjeong’s hip, feeling the girl’s knees buckle. “Oh fuck…” Minjeong breathed out, the energy draining from her body as it relaxed. She blinked her eyes open—Y/n pulling her skirt back down as she pulled away, pulling her fingers out and helping the girl who unconsciously slid down to the floor with her. Her eyes shutting once more.

She looked at the girl in front of her whose cheeks were all flushed, her knees slumped against each other and her hands limp on the floor as she panted for air in the tight and hot space. Y/n leaned forward, restraining Minjeong of any possible room with her hands on each side of her on the cold ground. 

Her eyes opened, coming face to face with Y/n and despite feeling like she was held down by stones her hand came up. The tattooist cupped the singer’s cheek and pulled her in as she couldn’t get enough, she constantly needed more of what they had. 

It had all been so seemingly innocent, but before Minjeong knew it she was dragged into deep waters, drowning in Y/n's arms with no way out as it grew like an addiction. It had been too tempting no matter how many people told her to beware of what was disguised as innocence but only led to harm. They both dragged each other and what made it work was that it was always a one-way ticket to the gates of hell. 

masterlist.

[the-traveling-poet]

Hello again! 😆💗,

Thank you very much for fulfilling my request!😩. I did not expect you to fulfill it so quickly, and this made me very happy. It was funny and CUTE 💗.

Well, I have a lot of ideas, but Idk how to write them but I think it will not be as fun when I read it from someone else’s writing. 🫳🏻

It is the same idea. Fem!TitanReader X Levi, The events take place when Annie kidnapped Eren, and the reader chases her in her titan form, but Annie was able to escape after leaving the reader with dangerous injuries, and she was left alone because there wasn’t enough time to treat her until the mission was over, and Captain Levi didn’t find her among the soldiers or treatment tents, so he decided to go back to look for her, and when he found her, she was still in her titan form. She fainted and half of her limbs were still trying to regenerate.

💗(Thank you for fulfilling my first request. If you have some time, I hope you will fulfill the second request, so I can be silent in peace. Lol)

Shifting Scares

During the 57th expedition beyond the walls, everyone was on edge. While Commander Erwin hadn’t specified all the details for their plan, a select few knew the danger this put young Eren Jeager in. In order to use him as bait to draw out the ‘abnormal’ titan hiding amongst their ranks, they’d need all the protection they could get. So naturally, they’d tasked you; their secondary titan shifter, to stick close to the young boy. As plans shift and fail, you’re left with no choice but to take on the threat single handedly until help could arrive. But no one knew the danger this would place you in, until it was nearly too late.

Pairing: Levi x Titan shifter! Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, language, fluff, s2

taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

A/N: Awe ofc lovely! I’m so glad you enjoyed the first one, and I hope I did part 2 justice! Sorry for such a long wait. Work got in the way and I had some personal issues that really took me for a turn, but here I am!

Enjoy ~

Part 1/ish

“Eld, you’re taking the lead from here. Tether the horses and get Eren out of here until I give the signal.”

The second in command gave a brisk nod in return, then turned his attention back to the front.

Just behind him, you gripped the reins holding you to your horse tighter and grit your teeth. It had been a close call, for the past several minuets. Really, it had felt like hours; galloping at top speeds to escape the grasp of the titan behind you all. You’d lost count of just how many times you’d felt her ginormous calloused fingers brushing your back through your cloak.

You’d understood why you had been placed at the rear or the Special Operations Squad. You knew it was to cover the flank and provide even more security for the young boy in front of you. But damnit if you hadn’t been scared shitless the whole time despite your agreement.

Chancing a glance back towards the front, you caught your Captain’s eye. He stared seemingly into your soul from the front of the small formation, as thought he was looking past your gaze and into your very mind. After assessing you a moment longer, he gave you a small nod. One you had a hard time returning.

“L/N, you know the drill. Watch their six. Should anything happen, you’re to act as defense.”

“‘Course, Captain,” You mumbled, trying to shoot him a smile. Though it looked more panicked than reassuring in his eyes.

Looking you over one last time with a flash of what you could have sworn was concern, he turned back to the front and crouched up onto the back of his mare and gripped the handles of his odm gear and shot off up into the forrest surrounding your path. A moment of silence accompanied his departure, and you couldn’t help but worry for his safety above your own as he returned to the Commander’s side.

Humanity’s strongest or not, the lot of you had never gone toe to toe with another shifter.

The silence followed you all up until you came to stop near a large oak, where you dismounted your own mare at Eld’s call and prepared to tether her to the tree.

“Don’t worry sweety, you’re well out of danger here,” you murmured to your loyal steed, petting across her forelock gently before shooting up into the trees with the rest of your squad.

Grappling onto the first of many branches that would bring you nearest the top of the large tree, you glanced over at Eren with a smirk as you pressed down on the lever of your gas containers; a wordless competition for a race.

Sensing your mischief, Eren rolled his eyes. But he couldn’t quite hide the interest he took in your silent challenge.

Racing through the thick limbs, you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself despite the dread this mission had placed the entirety of the Corps in. But a little fun far away from the danger might help ease the boy’s mind, right?

And maybe yours, too.

The two of you touched down nearly in synch, catching your breath as you playfully shoved at one another’s shoulders with mumbles of disagreements for who’d won.

Hearing someone clear their throat, you both stopped and stared ahead with wide eyes. The rest of the SOS had made it up to the top before the both of you, much to your disgruntlement.

“Oi, you shifters…or whatever they’re calling you now; you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Oulo grumbled out, folding his arms loosely across his chest.

Shrugging your shoulders with a careless smile, you strode past him and jumped over to an adjacent branch and took a seat with your back propped against the trunk.

“Just lessening the tension,” you sighed, closing your eyes a moment.

“Lessening the tension, my ass. You act as childish as Jeager.”

“Hey!” Eren scrunched up his face and jutted his chin, squaring his shoulders as though ready for a fight.

“Oulo that’s enough!” Petra cried, shooting her companion a glare. “Captain Levi said that Commander said this was of utmost importance, so you’d better act like it!”

“Of course it’s of most importance dear Petra, I just don’t see why Captain placed me here among you children instead of taking me with him for assistance.” Oulo clicked his tongue in annoyance, his posture aloft and dismissive.

“Assistance in what? Impersonations?” Gunther scoffed from his place leaned against one of the thick tree trunks with a humored grin.

“Wh-I do not…”

“You do, Oulo.”

You smirked to yourself on the opposite branch. Their banter never failed to boost your moral. Especially now with so much clouding your mind.

You listened in as Eren jumped into the banter, and observed how the conversation took a more somber mood a moment later. With a grunt you stood and brushed yourself off, waltzing your way closer to your companions.

“Eld’s right, we’re in some weird shit right now. But don’t you worry Eren, we’ve got this under control,” you comforted the younger man with a grin.

He returned your smile, seemingly more at ease now with the reassurance of his friends. His shoulders were less tense now, and his hands finally fell from their fists.

With a frown you lowered your gaze to your boots. You understood his rage towards the beast. A devil, really. Another shifter in Paradis; only, this one was bloodthirsty and dangerous.

Hearing all those strangled cries behind you on the trail, accompanied by sickening crunches from bones snapping into pieces and tearing through flesh…It sickened you, made you see red as your hands shook. You’d had to restrain yourself as much as Eren from breaking formation then and there to take her out.

So many lives lost…So many you had to repay…

A sharp crack off in the distance startled you from your thoughts.

Turning to face the direction your comrades all stared off at, you saw a plume of black smoke shoot up over the tree line.

“A flair signal,” Eren gasped.

“That’s our cue. It’s gotta be Captain’s signal to regroup. We’ll head that way immediately,” Eld addressed you all, finally a small smile tugging at his thin lips.

“This’ll all be over soon. Gunther, watch the rear with Y/N. Petra, Oulo, stay at Eren’s sides. I’ll take the lead.”

“Sir yes sir!” You chirped, already clipping your handles to your blades. Taking a stand beside Gunther, you shot him a grin as you watch the others shoot off into the forrest ahead of you.

“No crazy stunts, L/N. Not till we’re back in HQ.” Gunther chuckled, loosening up more now as he shot off ahead of you.

Rolling your eyes, you leapt from the tree to catch up. “Yeah yeah. You keep Oulo and Petra under control, I’ll keep Eren and myself sane.”

As the forest flew past you in a blur, and your friends in front of you continued to banter back and forth through the air, you allowed yourself a deep breath of relief.

So far, everything had gone to plan…

═════════════════

“Levi, restock on your gas and blades then regroup with your squad. We must get Eren out of here as soon as possible.”

Scoffing under his breath, Levi watched as the carnage below nearly drowned out his Commander’s order. As the titans ravaged the unknown shifter’s steaming corpse only meters below him, the Captain ran a hand down his face in frustration.

“My tanks are full, and my blades were replenished earlier. I’ll be fine,” He countered, shooting a raised brown over at the tall blonde.

Erwin didn’t budge, his sharp gaze fixated on the scene below. “That’s an order, Levi. Restock, then regroup,”

Assessing Erwin only a second longer, Levi clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

With that he shot down to the ground some ways away from the titans and quickly topped off his gas containers and placed new blades into the metal scabbards at his sides, before loading up a flair gun and taking off the way he’d come.

No matter how fast he flew through the trees scanning for any clues as to where his squad had gone, he couldn’t escape the rush of worries running through his mind.

If she escaped, she could be ahead of me…with them. If she didn’t, then we threw lives away for nothing yet again.

If she did manage to escape, and I don’t reach my squad in time…

Levi shook his head and grit his teeth, pressing down harder on the gas trigger.

No, I will reach them in time. I haven’t given the signal yet, so they haven’t moved from the trees. They shouldn’t have…They haven’t. They’re still there. She still there-

Levi’s train of thought was quickly interrupted as a shape came into view amongst the trees. A deafening crack bounced off the trees around him, with a light akin to lightning illuminating his surrounding more then they already were. A shift had occurred, no doubt, but from who, he had no way of knowing.

Through the yellow hue, Levi came to a brief stop near the object and sucked in a breath.

Twisted in his own wires, the lifeless gaze of Gunther’s eyes stared back at his face.

With newfound urgency, Levi was once again shooting through the trees.

I was too late. She did get ahead of me…

A second crack lit up the forrest, making Levi’s hands grip his handles all the more tightly as he listened to the undeniable scream of Eren’s rage resonating through forrest. Damnit, where were they…

Grunted curses flew from his lips nearly as fast as he shot through the trees, desperately scanning both the tree tops and the floor below for any sign of movement. Or dare he think, any sign of what might remain.

A scream he knew all too well filled his ears as he entered a clearing in the wood, knocking him from his line of focus. Whipping his gaze this way and that, he was unable to see where she might have gone. Instead, all he saw were the broken remains of his squad lying about in heaps across the trampled ground.

Goddamnit Y/N…Not you too…

═════════════════

What felt like days might have only been hours. Or even just minuets. Every second that passed you by only reminded you of the pain that coursed through every limb.

And still I failed…

Of course the flair signal had been a trap. You should have seen that coming. As Gunther fell victim before your very eyes, and the figure weaving in and out of sight to your left finally took form in the shape of the dreaded shifter, you’d lost yourself to panic a second longer than you should have.

As you were corned in the clearing, it took Eld’s spine snapping into two for you to shake yourself out of your panic. You’d failed to act as defense before now, but you’d be damned if you let this devil claim you all.

You shifted quickly, screaming at Eren to run. Your transformation distracted the female titan just long enough for Oulo and Petra to blind and immobilize her.

But not long enough for them to completely escape.

You’d charged her with a shriek, determined to avenge your fallen squad. Blow after blow you delivered and received, but never once did you waver.

Even when her stronger jaw bit clean through your arm, severing the limb halfway up the humorous. Even when your legs were clawed from your hips and your face torn nearly in half.

Even then, you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

Briefly you registered Eren charging in behind you as you clung to the female titan, ripping through the skin of his hand to kickstart his own transformation. You could do nothing but watch as he tackled her, and in turn you. With your broken body flung to the side, you were unable to dodge the next blow thrown your way. The hardened skin of the titan’s heel came crashing down only a foot away from your nape, making your world go completely black.

Now, unable to claw your way out of your titan, you were left steaming in the woods. Unable to move, unable to call for help.

Whether Eren had defeated her, you feared you’d never know. Regardless of the outcome, you started to think that maybe this fate that had befallen you was well deserved.

What good was a shifter like you when you couldn’t even complete an order?

The sound of wire cables anchoring into the trees somewhere around you caught your attention. Though you couldn’t see through titan’s eyes, you could still hear. Straining to listen, you heard the zipping of cables cease, only to be replaced by rushed footsteps and a panicked call.

Another moment of silence followed, in which you were only slightly aware of a presence standing on your titan’s back. Blinding light filled your senses, and you felt your body being forcefully removed from the wreckage.

Finally able to see, you turned your head with a grunt to see just who had pulled you out.

Forehead damp with sweat and evaporating titan blood, hands shaking as they held you up into a seated position with a pained grunt. You squinted your eyes and furrowed your brow.

“L-levi?”

“You don’t have the energy to talk, brat. You’re not healing as fast as you normally do.” Levi grumbled, observing your steaming body.

A raspy chuckle escaped your chapped lips despite yourself. “Probably cause I got stepped on. Should have seen what I did to her though.”

“I did. She escaped.” He replied bluntly, picking you up with ease as he stood.

Letting your head fall against his shoulder, you let out a shaky sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t act fast enough. If I had…t-the squad…she wouldn’t have gotten away-“

“I said you don’t have the energy to talk brat. Focus on healing yourself while I rush us back to the front. They’ve started to depart, and I’ll be damned if we’re left stranded out here alone.”

Humming half heartedly in agreement, you closed your eyes as you felt him shoot back up into the trees. For a minute, you did try to focus on healing. But at the moment, that felt impossible.

No; undeserving.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t save them.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” The soft tone of his voice surprised you, making you peer up at him.

“You did what you could. And it’s more than any of us could have done. Both you and Eren will be returned to base soon enough. I’m just glad you survived.”

“But the others…Gunther, Eld, Petra, Oulo…”

You felt him physically shudder at their names being spoken. Undoubtedly, you knew he had seen what you had. Shying away from his gaze, you kept your eyes on your steaming skin.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” he sighed, coming to a stop by grappling into the nearest tree and kneeling against the bark with a pained huff. “I wasn’t there in time. Not only did the bitch get away, but it left you injured in the process. I never wished for you to end up in this state.”

You examined his face, what of it you could see as he turned away. The pain etched into every mark lining his furrowed brow only made you feel worse.

“I won’t end up like this again, and that’s a promise. I’ll get stronger, I’ll be better,” you whispered, gently tugging at his chin to make him meet your eye.

“It won’t be like this next time. I’ll train more, prepare more…so that I can save more.”

Finally, his frown let up and his brow relaxed. Cradling you more firmly against him, he caged you in his arms and shot his wires into the next tree. To your surprise, he looked down to meet your eye before taking off again; this time, with a hint of a smile.

“Well unless this training idea of yours involves setting me up in another damned tree without my gear, I’ll be there with you. Every step of the way.”

[bucknastysbabe]

Heyo the Bucky rdr western au has much more plot than expected. I have an old one that didn’t get much traction from Ao3 so wanted to post and see if y’all liked it! So something to tide over :)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Derogatory language towards a woman, outlaws duh, light description of puking, rough handling, bickering bitches, sex pollen (or potion in this case), strip poker, cunnilingus, Bucky’s huge dick, dirty talk, rough pnv!sex, cream pie, pregnancy, open ending, love at first intercourse, ambiguous ending

Bayou Bonding

The boy who carried his father’s blue, blue eyes toothily smiled at you. He sat by the fire in your father’s manor, dressed in fine clothes. You named him James; after his father. He stared at the fire with a contemplative look on his face before asking, “How did you meet Daddy?” You blanched, Bucky was a sore topic around your home. A blight on one of Saint Denis’ finest families. You told the boy a watered down version of the truth, but your mind wandered back to the day.

1879, Saint Denis, LE

“Unhand me! You— you cowpoke!,” you hollered.

A gloved hand slapped over your mouth, the other wrangling you close to his body. The burly cowboy hissed, “Shut it! Howling ain’t gonna do you a damn thing.” You thrashed more, stomping a heeled foot into his foot. He grunted in pain, slinging you into the ground. Ragged ropes cut into your skin as the outlaw hogtied you. He shoved a dirty kerchief in your mouth, and hauled you up over his shoulder.

Another man, a lean blonde snickered, “Feisty one eh Buck?” The surly man cursed, “Too Fuckin’ feisty. Uppity little bitch.” You yowled behind your gag, trying to knee him in the back. The two men cautiously carried you down a back alley. Two horses waited in the murky gloom. ‘Buck’ and his smirking compatriot had plucked you from the Mayor’s party, for what you assumed was ransom. As sheriff, your daddy didn’t mix with the right people all the time.

Buck flipped you onto the back of his huge black horse, you crying out at the rough handling. The pair hopped on their horses, and off you went into the night. The movement of the galloping horse was making you sick. From what you could see they were taking you North into the swampy wasteland of Bayou Nwa. You managed to spit your gag out, but before you could speak, a rush of your dinner decided to make its appearance.

“For fuck’s sake! Tell me why Stark sent me to do this shit?,” the darker man spat. The other man laughed again, chuckling airily as you watched his bow bounced across his back. Buck rumbled, “Quit yer’ laughing Clint or she’s going on the back of ole’ Hawkeye.” Clint shut up and kept riding on.

You really wishes you could’ve taken off your corset, but one doesn’t prepare for kidnapping on horseback by dirty cowboys. The stink of the swamp started to envelop your nose as they closed into the darkness. Buck lit a lamp, you could watch it’s shadow away across the muddy ground. The pair stopped at a dilapidated dock, illuminated only by the sparse moonlight and the lamp. A dingy waited in the pitch water. Your vision swam as Buck hauled you to the boat, gently lowering you down to not disturb the boat.

You complained, “Atleast cut my feet, I’m not stupid enough to go jump in a damn gator infested swamp!”

Clint shrugged and pulled out a knife, cutting the rope after he sat down. Buck protested, “No you damn fool, what happens when we get out of the boat? Dumbass.” You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Like I’m going to either run away from heavily armed criminals.” The big man grumbled under his breath as he stepped down into the dingy. You dusted yourself off, taking a breath as you adjusted your corset. You wrinkled your nose at the smell of horse on your crinoline dress.

Buck began rowing, blue eyes scanning the misty swamp. Clint leaned back, staring up at the stars. He offhandedly asked, “So. You know your daddy is crooked? Don’t even start Barnes!” Bucky called Clint a dumbass, again. You replied, “I had a feeling. Not my business, I’m just here to look pretty and get engaged if it wasn’t for you dirty cowboys.”

“Not cowboys.”

“Outlaws,” you said in an exaggerated accent.

You crossed your arms and huffed, “Great. I really hope you two know your way around the Bayou. Then we’re all dead. Anyways how long is this ‘holding me for ransom’ to last. The entirety of the Saint Denis Police will be looking for me. Your gang must be on some hard times.”

“Shut it!,” Bucky barked.

Clint stage whispered, “We have a map. Headed to a safe house. And until he pays up, killing you has no purpose.”

You nodded solemnly, listening to the sounds of the bayou. This place had always intrigued and scared you. Your grand-mère told you stories of ghosts, pirates, the night folk and such. Although there were much more real, scary things than stories happening to you now. Clint said you weren’t in harms way but Bucky’s cold eyes frightened you.

The boat pulled up onto an old stilted house. There was a dim red lamp in the window. Bucky paddled the dingy flush to the dock, mooring with some rope. Clint stepped out first, extending a hand to you. You thanked him as the wiry blonde helped you up. Bucky trudged out last, pushing you into the shack. “Go on”, he growled.

Clint carefully slithered back into the weathered dingy. He cheerily announced, “Have fun in the swamp shack you two. Pleasure to meet you miss, Bucky doesn’t bite,” he paused, “Atleast I don’t think he does. Anyways I have to get back to the gang, see you around when the ransom is paid.”

You spluttered, “Why can’t he go? I don’t want to be stuck with this brute!”

Bucky glared at you, hands balling into fists.

Clint cackled, “Rule’s rules miss. I’d love to entertain you another time. Have a good night.”

You stomped into the shack, petulantly sitting on a weathered chair. You complained, “It smells like gator shit in here.” Bucky ignored you in favor of closing the small curtains. You watched him move. For a big man, he carried himself lightly. Maybe if he took a bath and had a trim, he’d even be attractive. Blue eyes turned on you.

You held your ground and deadpanned, “I meant it. You’re greasy and smell like horse.”

He collapsed into an ancient armchair, pulling out some gun oil. Bucky remarked, “You’re just a ray of sunshine aren’t you? Just shut up and lemme’ clean my gun. Yer’ daddy will pick you up soon and you can go back to your bubble.”

He dissembled the pistol efficiently, carefully cleaning each part. You watched him quietly, holding your tongue for everyone’s sanity. You really wanted to take off your corset, the tightness was driving you insane. You held off until your head felt light. With a weak voice you asked, “Bucky. Mister Outlaw.” Sleepy eyes turned to you, his brow quirking up in question.

“I need to take my corset off.”

“Well take it off.”

You whinged, “I need help for that you dullard! Just loosen the laces and I have the rest.” He remained stubbornly silent so you simply began to remove the outer layers of your extravagant outfit. Then you walked over to the ass and turned around. He mumbled, “Spoiled rotten. Fine, you want a plate of cheese and grapes with this madam?” Thick fingers started to loosen the corset, you taking a deep breath of air. You unlatched the front of it, now clad in your pantaloons and blouse. You breathed, “Thank you, and yes that would be delightful sir.”

Bucky gazed at your body as you were turned around, reluctantly appreciating the view. He threw his coat at you and chided, “Cover up.” With a disgusted look you put it on. The smell of leather and herbs was nice, but the stink of horse still lingered. Very warm coat too. You gawked at the filthy mattress in the corner of the shack. It was covered in stains and had a ragged blanket strewn across it. Grabbing your extensive overwear, you managed to cover the mattress and make a pillow out of your bustle pad.

“Hm. Maybe some brains under there. I know they don’t let you city girls learn much.”

You snapped, “I’ll have you know!” You stopped when you realized Bucky had made a very solid point. With a frown you crawled onto your emerald green crinoline pallet. Cuddling into the jacket you let a few tears slip. You hoped you’d be home soon and out of this mess. Your eyes began to droop as you listened to Bucky cleaning his weapons and the crackle of the small fire he started. You said a rosary in your head and drifted asleep.

You awoke to the darkness. Rain pattered against the tin roof. Bucky sat cross legged, reading a book. You prayed to the lord for sleeping safely. As you stretched and sat up he gruffly mumbled, “Mornin’.” You shot back, “Did you not sleep? Stare at me all night instead? I thought your type would take advantage of a helpless lady.” His brows furrowing made you cringe at your lack of forethought.

“Our gang might be criminals but we’re not deviants. You’d like that though, wouldn’t ya? Big scary cowboy rippin’ yer’ bodice,” Bucky smugly replied.

You remained silent, picking at your nails anxiously. The brunette licked his full bottom lip and closed his book with a soft thwip.

He stood up and handed you an open can of beans. You stared at the outlaw incredulously, eyes flicking back and forth from the gross looking food. You primly spoke, “Hate to ruin the moment but do you have an apple or crackers? I’m not eating that.”

He huffed a laugh and rifled through a satchel before tossing you an apple. Bucky busied himself with the beans, eating like it was his last meal. You stared in horror at the scene as you ate your apple. Bucky rolled his eyes as he inhaled the last scoop. You scoffed, “I need to get out of this smelly swamp shack or I’m going to feed myself to the the gators.” Bucky smirked at you, an amused look in his eyes.

“No can do, just gonna’ have to hop out of your bejeweled carriage Princess,” he chuckled.

You threw your hat at the smarmy cowpoke, which he easily caught with a surprised grin. You had to suppress your thoughts on his endearingly crooked grin. You spat, “Oh piss off, I’m not damn Cinderella! I just happen to have manners and morals !” Bucky snorted, “Not using your manners curssin’ at me and throwin’ hats in your skivvies!” You groaned in frustration, taking a particularly vicious bite of your apple.

Bucky busied himself back with his book, leaving you to boredom. So you shucked off the heavy jacket in the hot shack and rummaged around the place. Bucky raised a brow but ignored you. You found a loose floorboard and pried it open. Some strange marking in chalk lined the bottom of the space. Multiple glass jars and dried herbs littered the hidey-hole. You picked up some sort of carved charm, setting it back down carefully. A small bag of coins jingled as you inspected the sack.

It looked like some old hoodoo or voodoo practitioner lived here. You hoped it was the more spiritually benevolent voodoo. Bucky stomped over to you and bellowed, “What in fucks name are you doing?” You yelped and threw the coins at Bucky. After a breath you replied, “I got bored! Found this stuff, some swampfolk left some voodoo trinkets. The man’s face paled as fear entered his blood.

Bucky scolded, “Why would you go mess around with that cursed shit! That’s bad luck— already have enough of that!” He kicked a chair and hollered, “God dammit woman!” You cowered at his outburst, squeaking out, “Voodoo isn’t bad! Hoodoo is, that’s what the Night Folk practice. My grand-mère told me about this, these are probably just luck charms and health elixirs. Relax, you’re scaring me!”

His handsome face fell, wiping a hand over his forehead. He amended, “My bad— I don’t mess around with shit like that. You’d know better than me, now just put that stuff away. C’mon princess, we’ll play cards. I got a deck in my satchel.” While Bucky spoke, you stuffed the remaining trinkets in your underclothes. He held out a hand to help you up, you daintily taking the rough grip.

“You got any drinks?,” you drawled. You were cooking up a plan, something to give you the upper hand. Bucky turned around with a bottle of fancy rum. You awed, “Aged pirate rum, living above your means huh? Rob that off a poor citizen of Lemoyne?” The brunette growled, “You gonna drink it or what?” You waved a hand and seized the bottle. You called over your shoulder as you found some old cups, “Get the game ready, I like rummy. My brother taught me how to play when he got out of the war.”

“Got out?”

“Legs blown off.”

“Damn. Sorry ‘bout that.”

You pulled out the two vials of mystery liquid, reading the labels. They were written in creole. You only knew Parisian French so you had to guess. One said companionship and the other was something along the lines of rest. So you shrugged and poured a bit of both into his cup. You finished off the companionship one in your drink. You didn’t want the outlaw to pick up on the herbal scent.

Bucky questioned, “What’s taking you so long?” You lord smoothly, “Found some dried mint for a little flavor, a lady needs some spice.” He scoffed and crossed his arms. You smirked to yourself as you tucked the empty vials away. You brought the drinks over and handed Bucky his. As expected he sniffed the rum, but didn’t make a fuss as he took a sip. You sat down and teased, “Get ready to get your hide tanned, cowpoke.”

So you drank, and played, and drank some more. You’d beaten Bucky two times before he slammed his hand down on the table and barked, “A’right! Let’s see your hand in poker, Princess!” He grinned wildly, blue eyes sparkling. He looked handsome when he smiled, dimples popping with endearingly crooked teeth. You were trying to take it slow but you felt the effects of the alcohol. Your face was flushed and you felt loose and erratic. Bucky was also wide open, talking much more than you’d ever expected him to.

You teased, “Let’s make this fun, Mister Barnes. How about strip poker? Never seen a cowboy naked.”

He balked at your forwardness, pink lips agape in surprise. Nervousness bolted through your body before Bucky tumbled forward with guffaws. He howled in laughter, “Hah! Miss high falutin’ wants to play strip poker! Aight then, let’s play!” His flush ran down his tanned neck and up to his ears. So the game began, and you felt on top of the world.

Soon you were short of pantaloons and Bucky sat only in his pants, broad chest on display. He was quite drunk now, slurring and flirting shamelessly. You’d slowed down some but vitality thrummed through your veins. Bucky’s lusty stares were starting to make your core ache. You hadn’t felt this aroused since that visiting French Aristocrat fucked you silly a year ago.

He smirked as he dealt his hand, a straight flush. You were beat. The man leaned back, thick thighs spreading invitingly. Bucky crooned, “Get that top off princess, uh-uh no backing out you started this.” You shot back, “Fine fine, lucky day for you cowpoke. High class lady showing you her bosom.” You shucked your top off and gestured at your naked body. Bucky’s eyes visibly darkened with lust and before he spoke you cut him off, “Nah. We aren’t done yet. I want another round.”

As the last round went maddeningly on, your arousal was beginning to spike. You couldn’t pay attention as your skin felt on fire. Your cunt had soaked your thighs and the wooden chair. Your nipples, hips, and nethers throbbed and swelled up. All you could think about was getting a cock in you. Bucky fared no better, his chest was flushed with stiffened nipples. You saw his hand rubbing needily between his legs. Sweat beaded on his temples and the man looked like he was going to jump your bones.

You slurred in a rare moment of clarity, “I thin’ I drugged us.”

Bucky snarled, shoving the table aside. He stalked over to you and dropped to his knees. Worn hands gripped your thighs as he rasped, “S’that why you smell so good n’ my cocks fixin’ to pop? Dumb little rich bitch.” You mewled, rutting your hips toward his swollen lips. He groaned at the sight of your swollen folds. The brunette muttered, “To hell with it.” He dug his face between your thighs, licking a broad stripe up your slick center.

One palm held your hip as the other skated up to your swollen nipples. He plucked and tweaked at the sensitive bud. You wailed in pleasure, bucking into his mouth. His stubbly cheeks rubbed you raw in the right way. Bucky was direct with his cunnilingus, attacking your clit mercifully. He’d dip down and slurp around your leaking cunt before going back to your bud.

You yanked a fistful of his dark hair, wrapping your legs around his meaty shoulders. He moaned into your sex, “G’fuckin girl.” You babbled uselessly, writhing in pleasure. Whatever you had put in the concoction was some sort of sex potion. You’d never felt all of your nerve endings alight like this. Your lower belly was beginning to contract as Bucky suckled on your clit while he stroked your inner walls. You were so out of it you weren’t sure when he’d slipping them in. But tears were welling up as he abused that sensitive, sensitive spot.

You keened, “Heavens above! Fuck ah ah mmh!”

He grinned against your pussy and nipped down on your clit, sending you reeling. You clamped down on his shoulders, folding on top of his body as you shook with the intense spasms. You bit your lip to keep from screeching like a banshee. You held onto Bucky’s head and panted, “Need— more— fuck need your cock Bucky please not enough.”

He shakily got up, detangling you from his body. You whined at the loss, him shushing you. Bucky cooed, “Hol’ on sweetheart lemme get ya somewhere more comfortable. M’ gonna fill you right up.” You moaned in agreement, latching into his strong arms as he hauled you to the makeshift crinoline pallet. He rubbed your back, hissing, “Need that pretty pussy baby, bet it’s Fuckin’ snug. M’ fucking raring to go, gonna wreck you. Never gonna look at a city boy again.”

“Mhm, yes please, need it need it Bucky!”

Bucky ungracefully tossed you on the cot and covered yourself with that sculpted body. He snatched your lips into a quick kiss, before shoving down his jeans to reveal his cock. It was almost purple from the amount of blood flushing the organ. You whimpered and spread your legs. Bucky growled, “Yeah— spread em’ like a good slut. Gonna wreck you.” He seated himself between your plush thighs and sheathed in a quick motion.

Your mouth opened to scream but he shoved a coarse palm over your lips. You felt complete, Bucky’s girthy cock filling you to the brim. You were so wet he met little to no resistance. Without warning the brunette started up a brutal pace, fucking into you in abandon. Slick clapping noises echoed around in the light of the late afternoon. His powerful hips and thighs pistoned into your sloppy core. You sobbed at the intensity, crying Bucky’s name like a prayer.

He gasped into you neck, panting about your perfect cunt. He slid his big hands under your knees, pressing you into a ball. The new angle

had the outlaw’s blunt tip ramming into your sweet spot. You scrabbled at his back, biting and sucking at his muscular shoulders like a feral animal. Bucky let out a pained moan,

“Fucking heavenly— good little slut. Yer’ ole’ daddy gonna be wondering why you can’t walk.”

You cried harder, wondering how the man was holding it together as he drilled you into next week. A second orgasm was approaching at a breakneck pace and threw your head back in ecstasy. Bucky laved his skilled tongue up the column of your throat, gripping your thighs. You yelled, “Oh ah— ah ah Buck m’gonna come again fuck!”

“Come on n’ take it darlin’, it’s all yours,” he spit through clenched teeth. The cowboy’s pace didn’t slow any as you reached your peak. Your legs spasmed and shook as you sobbed at the overstimulation. Petting your sides, Bucky cooed, “Easy girl, I ain’t done with you yet.” You whimpered, “S’ too much please no, I can’t!”

“Yeah you can sweet thing, gonna wear you out and fill you up like the needy slut ya’ are.”

You whined pitifully, wrapping yourself around his broad scarred back. You panted into his scruffy cheek, begging for more or less you weren’t entirely sure. But Bucky kept up. The man had flipped you around like a rag doll and pushed you through two peaks before he came with a shuddering moan and shout of your name. Bucky rolled off of you with a sigh, breathing like a racehorse. He gasped, “Whatever..the fuck..you put in m’drink..a miracle.”

You were too worn out and dazed to speak so you gave a sleepy “mhmmm.” The outlaw rolled to his side, slinging an arm around your soft waist. He rubbed at your slick skin, a strangely soft look on his face. You snuggled into his body and drifted off again.

“Awe what the fuck?! Get dressed the sheriff is coming you horn dog!,” A voice voice rattled in the shack. A darker man threw Bucky’s clothes at him, grumbling about Barnes and his wandering dick. You bolted upright and slung on your clothes. Bucky was pulling up his ranch pants, cussing at the other man ‘Sam’.

“Ease off Sam— it’ll be fine!”

Sam shouted back, “Not when she looks like she’s been mauled by a leech! Idiot!”

The two bickered until you cleared your throat, loudly. You said, “If you two will stop fighting, this corset needs lacing. Then I can put on my dress with a high neck, therefore you don’t see the markings.” Sam harrumphed, “Fine. Turn around I used to lace up Sarah all the time”. Bucky pushed Sam aside and did the deed instead.

He rumbled, “You okay?”

You nodded as you turned to look at Barnes. You whispered, “More than good. If you find your way back to Saint Denis, I live in the big peach house by the Cemetery.” Bucky replied, “Will do.” He squeezed the nape of your neck before buttoning up your dress. You attempted to fix your mussed hair in a cracked half mirror but gave up with a grunt. You pecked Bucky on the cheek, Sam groaned in frustration from the doorway.

And so your father picked you back up. It was a happy reunion, and things went back to normal in Saint Denis. Until you missed your monthly cycle. Your fathers face haunted your dreams when the doctor declared you pregnant. He hissed in the carriage, “You got knocked up by that dirty criminal didn’t ya? Rapist piece of shit. I’m contacting higher ups.” You protested before your father realized, and he turned ice cold. Things in Saint Denis weren’t normal after that. You weren’t kicked out fortunately, and the boy was to be raised as a sad circumstance of your kidnapping.

Bucky didn’t come by, but he left a letter once. Saying he was changing his ways and got some land out in Canada. Your mother burned it up in the fire. You wrote a letter back, telling him to come get you and little James when everything was settled.

“Mama? So you ran with a gang before I was born?”

You blinked and snapped out of reverie. With a sad smile you cooed, “Yes James. We were free and wild! But I had to leave to take care of you. Your father will be back one day. Then we’ll be a family.” The boy grinned and cheered, “Maybe he’ll teach me how to ride a horse!”

In the night, Bucky stared at the luxurious cabin. He proudly smiled at his hard work. Only had a trip to Saint Denis to make

[shaperaverse-brainrot]

subverted fairytale tropes?? In my Jill/Marjolein fanfic?? It's more likely than you think. Written for NADS au week for the prompt fairytale. Cw for implied transphobia.

This was as awful idea, an awful, stupid, terrible-

The thoughts rattled through Marjolein’s mind like the clatter of hooves in a horse’s gallop, even if her physical body couldn’t move as fast. She pulled the cloak she had tighter around her, concealing not only the lace of a well-made outfit from outside view, but her own skin from the bitter, biting cold as she walked on, one foot in front of the other.

This was far from the first time that she made the journey through the woods, although she wasn’t accustomed to treading it so late at night, flinching at any sound that she could hear over her own breathing. Usually, she made the journey under light of a warm sun, without fear that someone could be right behind her ready to drag her back, with the person she was journeying to at least aware that she was coming, who would know if she got lost in the woods and didn’t turn up and-

Panic wouldn’t get her anywhere except lost. She forced herself to breathe, a sharp, shaky inhale, and then a more steady exhale. She could do this.

She could do this.

She had packed as much as she could manage into the bag she carried on her shoulder. It wasn’t much, just whatever she could take without it being obvious, but it was better than nothing. It was better than staying in the castle, with her family, with people who would never let her be… She’d stolen the dress, too. It wasn’t the first time she’d stolen feminine clothes, and if her family found her out here, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d caught her doing so.

It was, however, the first time she’d done it without the intention to return.

She really, really should have planned this better.

She kept walking on. Why hadn’t she waited until morning, when it was safer? Couldn’t she have just waited it out? Pretended to play along until morning? When tales she’d been told as a child didn’t seem far too true? Any young royal had been terrified away from the woods, told of dragons they’d have to fight or witches they’d have to fear, and Marjolein had been no exception.  Even if she didn’t quite believe them, anymore, even if her family had been wrong about a lot of things, she still couldn’t help the dread that built in her, and the guilt that rose in her chest. Old habits die hard, it seemed.

Recognising a fallen log, next to an awfully familiar stream, she re-orientated herself. She was alright, she was almost there, in fact, she was so close to safety.

And then she heard a rustling in the trees, and she pressed a palm to her mouth to stop herself screaming, as she spun to face it, stumbling slightly over the roots and plants of the forest ground.

A witch stood there, a basket of potion ingredients and a pointy hat and everything.

Marjolein felt a wave of relief wash over her, as she dashed forward, wrapping the woman tightly in her arms.

“Marjolein?” She asked, voice full of concerned confusion. “What are you-”

“I came to see you.” Marjolein said, still not letting go of Jill. The woman she knew was most certainly not evil, who’d she’d laughed with and kissed and adored on too many “pretend kidnappings” to get her away from a home that didn’t quite accept her.

“What’s wrong?” Jill asked, bringing her hand up to cup the princess’s face. Marjolein shook her head, biting back tears.

“I can’t go back.”

“Why? What happened?”

Marjolein didn’t respond, simply casting her gaze around the pair. Even if Jill was one of - probably the safest person she’d met, she still didn’t want to risk her chances in the woods alone. Jill noticed her gaze, and sighed, giving a soft smile.

“Let’s go home, Leinie. I’ll get you a warm drink, okay?”

Marjolein found it in herself to smile back, as Jill held her hand through the rest of the journey, to the small place Jill had made in the woods, that Marjolein had started to consider more of a home each and every day.

[ttuesday]

Hiiiiii hru doing? I love your blog sm u stg I check it everyday keep up the amazing (you even inspired me to start writing for rdr)

Anyways Can I request how would the VDL boys act if say the O'Driscolls or lamyone raiders kidnapped their S/O who already has some past trauma?

Arthur

Arthur thought you would’ve been back by now. Usually whenever you go into town to buy supplies, you’re back in camp within the hour. He could sense something was off but it was when Kieran mentioned seeing O’Driscoll’s in the area did he realize what had happened.

On the inside, he’s very scared. You could be dead by now and that terrifies him. Arthur wastes no time, shouting across to Dutch that you’ve been taken as he runs to his horse.

After a quick shootout, he finds you locked in a small room. Thankfully they didn’t have much time to harm you but nonetheless Arthur fussed over you, checking you over and over again for any injuries.

He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his head in your hair as he mutters “Everything’s alright, I got you now and that’s all that matters”.

Dutch

When you didn’t return to camp, Dutch knew something was wrong. This isn’t the first time Colm has taken someone Dutch cares about, so he got a sort of hunch that they had grabbed you.

Within 5 minutes of initially getting this hunch, he gathers up some of the other fellers and they ride off to the O’Driscoll’s last known location.

Dutch doesn’t think about the worst case scenario. He forbids himself from even considering that possibility, mainly because he knows he’ll break down if he thinks of it.

After finally freeing you, Dutch tells you to ride with him. He brings you on a scenic route as the other fellers head straight back to camp. With remorse in his eyes, Dutch sighs “This shouldn’t have happened, I… I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you”.

Charles

Charles didn’t think too much about it when you weren’t back at your usual time. He knows you’re adventurous and that you like exploring so he thought that maybe you got side-tracked doing that.

But when Kieran mentioned it to him that O’Driscoll’s were nearby, Charles saw red. He was angry that he wasn’t there to protect you and that this had happened to you of all people.

He only takes a small handful of people with him on this rescue mission. John offered to go as an extra gun and Arthur wanted to go in the hopes of calming down Charles on the way there.

When Charles sees that you’re alive and thankfully not badly injured, all that anger turns to relief. “I won’t ever let this happen again,” he promises as he holds you close “I can’t let this happen again”.

Micah

Micah was subtly waiting for you to come back from the supplies run. He always acts like he doesn’t care but secretly he pays attention to stuff like this, especially when you’re involved.

When he overheard Kieran say he saw O’Driscoll’s... well shit, it’s a miracle Micah didn’t kill Kieran right there and then. He was furious that this had happened, blaming whoever he could (besides himself).

Micah didn’t care if the others followed him out to the O’Driscoll’s camp. He was in such a rage, the only thing he was focused on was killing anyone wearing green and finding you.

Micah’s still angry when he finds you. He breaths a sigh of relief but he instantly starts to berate you for not being careful enough. “You ain’t leaving my sight for a month after this, y’hear?” he scolds. Micah cares, he just doesn’t know how to show it.

Bill

It takes Bill a few seconds to comprehend what’s after happening. He hears Kieran telling him about the O’Driscoll’s being around but his brain doesn’t want to admit that you’ve been taken.

He’s scared shitless and if anything bad happens to you then Bill won’t be able to forgive himself. He yells at the others to hurry up as he quickly runs to Brown Jack.

As they shoot any O’Driscoll they see, Bill can feel his hands slightly tremble as he fears for the worst. You mean so much to him, if something happens to you, he doesn’t know how he’ll cope.

Bill doesn’t let you go when he finds you. “You ever go on another supply run, you come get me,” he says “hell, you even leave camp for a peaceful piss you best come get me”. Yep, he’s appointed himself to be your new bodyguard.

John

John was laid back when you mentioned you were doing a supply run by yourself. He knows you’re capable and good with a gun so he didn’t worry about it.

But when he realized O’Driscoll’s had taken you, he hated himself for being so relaxed about it. He hates that that might be the last conversation he ever has with you.

John wastes no time mounting his horse and galloping off. Some of the other fellers follow him but they can’t keep up with his speed.

After killing every O’Driscoll in sight and finding you, John feels his knees go weak as all of his anxiety fades away. “You really scared me for a second” he tries to smile though you can see a gleam in his eyes.

Javier

Javier is so goddamn determined to get you. Kieran hadn’t even finished his sentence about seeing the O’Driscoll’s and Javier was already sprinting towards the horses.

He doesn’t care how far he has to go to get you back, he’s willing to do it. It doesn’t matter how many O’Driscoll’s he has to fight or how many miles he has to gallop, Javier is determined..

Javier doesn’t wait around for the others to come with him. He prefers to do this alone and it’s easier for him to take a stealth approach this way too.

You didn’t even realize all the O’Driscoll’s were dead. Javier simply pushed the door open and told you that you’re safe now. “How about we spend the night away from camp, hm?” he asks, subtly looking you over to make sure you weren’t hurt “I don’t want you to get overwhelmed back at camp”.

Hosea

Hosea’s been through a lot in his life and at a certain point, he starts to pick up when something isn’t right.

He wasn’t sure about you going on a supplies run alone in the first place so when he heard about O’Driscoll’s being seen, it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together.

He gathers up some of the fellers and head off. Hosea knows what he’s doing and he knows the best plan possible so if Dutch tries to take control of the situation, Hosea immediately cuts him off.

After a brief shootout, Hosea finds you and quickly runs over to you. He asks if you’re alright before asking Arthur to go get you some water. “Are you ok? You’re very strong for getting through this, you know that? So strong”.

Sean

Sean has a lot of emotions. He’s angry that this has happened, scared, nervous and he’s pumped full of adrenaline.

You know Sean’s come to rescue you from the amount of shouting outside. He makes sure every O’Driscoll knows he’s there for you and continuous tells them they shouldn’t have messed with you or ‘Deadeye MacGuire’.

When Sean finally gets to you, he flings his arms around you and doesn’t let go. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve been there, I should’ve…” yeah Sean goes on for a while, listing off all the things he should have done differently.

Even when y’all are heading back to camp, Sean makes sure you ride with him so he can keep his arms around you. He doesn’t want to let you go for a long, long time.

[ray-ray-writings]

Seeing Red-Technoblade

This is a Techno x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! I hope you enjoy!

Check out my masterlist here!

This is extremely different from what happens in cannon lol. 

TW: Fighting and descriptions of blood and gore. Techno literally slices up four people. There is nothing too NSFW but Techno and Y/N do take a shower together, but nothing really sexual happens, it’s just a shower shared by two peeps that love each other. 

When Y/N gets kidnapped by the Butcher Army to lure their boyfriend to L’Manberg, Technoblade sees red and is willing to do anything to get them back… Anything.

Techno’s POV

It was quiet around the house… Too quiet. Normally, I would always be able to hear Y/N moving around or singing randomly, but there was nothing. “Y/N?” I called out, hoping to get some form of response from them. Silence. “Love?” I tried once more, moving around hoping to find them. Nothing. 

A pounding on my front door startled me out of my focus. Maybe that was them! Why would they be knocking though, they live here… I swung the door open and was greeted with the sight of my father, who seemed to be out of breath, on my front step. “Dadza?” I questioned in confusion, “What are you doing here?” “They have them,” He breathed. I felt my blood run cold and my heart stop at his words. “What?” “They have them… The Butcher Army has Y/N,” He rushed out, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “They gave me this note to give to you.” I snatched the piece of paper from my fathers hands and quickly scanned the words scrawled on the parchment. 

“Technoblade, something of yours seems to have fallen into our possession. If you want them back safely, we suggest you come to L’Manberg and turn yourself into us. If you follow our orders, no harm will come to Y/N. But if you refuse, there will be hell to pay and your partner will take the full front of it. Signed, The Butcher Army.” 

I felt my blood boil at the words written on the piece of paper. How dare they? How dare they threaten my Y/N? Coming after me is one thing. But going for my innocent partner, that’s crossing a line. “Stay here,” I barked at my father before storming out of the house. Luckily, I had all of my OP armor and weapons on me considering I was in the nether doing… things… Doesn’t matter. Point is, I quickly saddled up my trusty horse Carl and immediately began galloping off to L’Manberg. 

Carl seemed to sense my urgancing because the trip took half the amount of time that it normally does. Once I was in the vicinity, I hopped off of Carl and tied him up just far enough away so that no one would be able to see him. I rushed up the Prime Path to the center of L’Manberg and was sick to my stomach at what I found. Y/N, my Y/N was trapped in a small cage with a tall tower built next to it, an anvil looming over the cage. Rage filled every inch of my body as their bloodshot eyes met mine. 

“Techno!” I heard them whisper in relief. “Technoblade!” I heard another voice call. I turned slowly and found Tubbo, Ranboo, Fundy, and Quackity standing in the ‘area’ as well dressed in bloody aprons, sick smiles on their faces. “I knew you would make the right choice” Tubbo claimed, everyone taking a few steps forward. “I’m here. Let Y/N go.” I hissed, my teeth clenched tightly. “Oh we will. But only after you comply, get in the cage.” Quackity demanded, motioning to the second cage next to Y/N. “That wasn’t the deal. That wasn’t what was in your note.” “Well we’ve changed our minds.” 

All of the rage that had built up in my body finally overpowered me. I quickly reeled my fist back and punched the nearest person near me, which just so happened to be Fundy. He reeled back due to the force of the punch. For a moment, the other three froze but then immediately snapped into action. I pulled out my shield and my axe as they charged forward at me. I easily blocked their attacks while dealing out my own damage. I moved with ease, taking very little damage as my axe and sword seemed to slice through the four boys with ease, their dark red blood coating my weapons. 

One by one they all fell at my hand, each of the death notifications popped up on my right arm. I stood there, taking deep breaths as I calmed myself down from what had just happened. “Techno!” my partner’s voice called out from behind me. My head snapped over to the cage and I sprinted over to it. Taking one swing with my pickaxe, the iron bars broke and Y/N was released from their prison. I hesitated before hugging them, not sure if they were willing to hug me while I was covered in blood. Y/N had no hesitations, immediately after the bars broke their arms were wrapped around me and they were crying in my chest. My arms wrapped around them, hugging them tightly to my chest and pressing a kiss to the top of their head. 

“Let’s go home,” I murmured into their hair. I felt them nod under my head. I pulled away from them and grabbed their hand and led them to where I left Carl. I helped them get on the horse before I hopped on behind them. I wrapped my arms around them and grabbed the reins. Y/N leaned back into my chest and I moved so that my head rested on their shoulder. I gave Carl a soft kick before he began to trot back towards our home. 

Carl knew where to go once our house came into view. Once in the stable, I pulled myself from Y/N to get off my beloved horse before helping Y/N off as well. I quickly desaddled Carl before giving him a few pats and a golden carrot. I grabbed Y/N’s hand and led them into the house. 

“Oh god! I’m so glad you’re alright! What happened to you guys?” My father questioned as soon as we walked in the house. I let out a small growl in frustration. I love my father but right now I just wanted to spend time with my partner. “I’ll explain later Dadza. Can you just leave us alone right now?” I tried to ask politely, but it probably came out a little more rude than I meant it to. Phil seemed to understand though because he only gave me a soft smile before nodding. He quickly made his way to our front door, “I’ll be over tomorrow then?” He questioned. “Sounds good dad. I’ll see you then.” I responded shortly. “Bye Philza” Y/N murmured with a small wave. Philza gave them another soft smile, waving back, “Bye Y/N. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” And he was gone. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up, yeah?” I offered to Y/N softly. They simply nodded with a small smile. I led them to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I helped them undress before unrobing myself as well. Together, the two of us got in the warm water. The deep crimson began running off of our bodies and down the drain. I helped Y/N wash their hair and in return they helped me wash mine. We helped each other wash our bodies as well, making sure to get all of the dried blood off of our red stained skin. As I washed, I wrapped my arms around their middle and just held them tightly to my chest. Their arms snaked up and wrapped around my neck, one of their hands resting gently in my pink hair and they began to play with it softly. 

We stood there together for quite a while, just enjoying the warm water as it washed over our bodies. As the dirt and grime fell from our bodies, the rage and the tension fell from my body inside. Y/N seemed to always have this effect on me. Whenever I could feel myself growing angry and the voices in my head scream for blood, Y/N simply has to look at me and the voices fall silent. They’re my eye of the hurricane. 

A chill ran up my back as I noticed the water had finally gone cold. Pulling away from Y/N, I quickly turned off the water and got out of the shower, offering my hand to my partner and helping them out as well. I pulled a couple towels out of our cabinet before slowly and gently dragging the towel over Y/N’s body, drying them off. I finished drying their body and quickly dried mine as well. 

We moved to our bedroom to get clothes. Y/N moved to go to their dresser, but my hand found their wrist causing them to stop. “No. Here.” I uttered walking to my own dresser and pulling out some of my more comfortable clothes. Y/N had no objections. They took the clothes and quickly dressed. After getting dressed myself, I turned and was awestruck at the sight. Obviously I’m bigger than Y/N and so my clothes are a lot bigger as well. The sight of my partner draped in my clothes caused my heart to hammer in my chest. 

“You are the most beautiful sight anyone could ever lay their eyes upon,” I murmured, staring deeply at Y/N. They turned and met my eyes, their cheeks blushed a bright red at my compliments. “You’re too sweet,” they squeaked, trying to turn away and hide their face. I took a few steps forward before reaching forward and cupping their cheek, turning their head to face me. “No need to hide from me darling. I know you better than anyone has known you. I love you so much,” I hummed, staring in their eyes. Their cheeks seemed to burn brighter but they nuzzled their cheek into my palm, “I love you too… Can we go to sleep now?” I let out a small chuckle, “Of course we can love.” 

Together we crawled into bed. I opened my arms and Y/N immediately crawled into my arms, snuggling their face into my chest. I pulled them as close to my body as I could. I heard Y/N let out a content sigh as we laid there. “I’m so sorry that happened today, love.” I spoke, breaking the silence. I felt their shoulders rise and fall as they shrugged, “It happens. I wasn’t too worried. I know you’ll always be there to save me.” Y/N mumbled sleepily in my chest. I tilted my head down and pressed a sweet kiss to the top of their head. “That I will, love. That I will.” 

I never know how to end things lol. I hope you enjoyed! If you did please be sure to leave a like!

[crispychrissy]

Connected - Part 5

Summary: Y/N comes to and is met with a familiar face, and new things are found out about her past. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3632 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, sassy reader, fluff, A/N: School is in full swing for me so my frequency of posting is going to slow down, but it won't stop completely, I promise. I already have the next chapter laid out and will start writing it as soon as I get some spare time. :) You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)

Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

The surface under your back felt nothing like the thin stained mattress you’d been sleeping on for weeks, and the light coming from the room beyond your closed eyes was way too bright to be the solitary light bulb hanging in the middle of your cell. Cautiously, you took stock of your body and wiggled your toes, fingers, and slightly shifted your arms and legs. There was a blanket over your body, one you’d never been granted during your captivity, and you immediately opened your eyes.

Which was something you immediately regretted. The bright fluorescent lights stung your eyes, making them water before you closed them again. A soft groan escaped your lips, and shuffling next to you made you freeze.

“Y/N?”

The voice was male, and vaguely familiar somehow? Slowly you blinked your eyes open, glaring at the bright light directly above your bed, before turning your head to the left where the voice came from. You were obviously in a hospital room, but the most shocking part of your change of scenery was the presence of Steve Rogers sitting in a plastic chair next to your bed, a kind smile on his lips.

“Can you understand me?” he asked, eyes studying your face.

“Yeah,” you rasped, coughing at the dryness in your throat you hadn’t registered until now.

Steve reached forward and grabbed a cup of water with a straw in it off a rolling table near the end of your bed and brought it to your lips as you managed to sit up. “Slow sips.”

“Yeah, thanks, mom,” you sassed before taking a sip of water. It took a second for what you had said to register, and your eyes widened before you sheepishly looked up at him while taking another drink and swallowing. “Sorry.”

“S’okay, I can handle some sass,” Steve said with a soft laugh. “Do you need more water?”

You shook your head and he placed the cup on the nightstand next to you, within your reach. “What happened? Did the Army send the Avengers to get me out of there?”

Steve frowned, but quickly schooled his expression with a soft shake of his head. “Not quite. What do you remember?”

When you reached for your memories, you hissed and squeezed your eyes closed, reaching up to clutch your head. “I can’t…” All of your memories were jumbled and seemed to be playing all at once, like hundreds of people trying to tell you a story at the same time. The only thing you did notice was a quiet area of stillness off to one side of your mind, the pain pushing you away each time you tried to focus on it. It was unsettling, and you turned to look at the man sitting next to you. “Captain Rogers… what happened? Where am I?”

“You’re in an Army base in Syria, you’re safe here. And please, call me Steve,” he told you with a smile before straightening in his chair. “I know your thoughts may be scattered, but what’s the last thing you remember?”

The throbbing in your head wasn’t as intense the second time around, and you managed to lock onto a memory of walking through a city surrounded by sand, a camera in your hands. It gave you a starting point, and you slowly followed the thread connecting that moment to the next. Steve was patient while you sorted through what you remembered, each knot of events in the thread becoming more difficult to untangle and get past. Almost ten minutes later, you looked up at him, tears blurring your vision.

“I remember taking pictures,” you said quietly, “but then I was… taken. These men thought I was with the Army trying to spy on them, tried to ransom me back. I told them I wasn’t… but they didn’t listen.” You swiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand, brushing the tears away. “They hurt me,” you looked down at the bandages on your arms, “and I kept… saying… something they didn’t like?”

“You did,” Steve confirmed, plucking a tissue from the box on the rolling table and passing it to you. “Do you remember what you said?”

Untangling the knot in this part of the thread took a few moments, and you were getting closer to that dark area, but the words rang loudly in your head and sent ice through your veins. “Oh my god, I said… Cap—er, Steve, I’m so sorry. Is that why you’re here? I don’t know him, I just… they wanted a soldier, so I kept saying the name of the strongest one I could think of.” Your eyes widened and you tried to backtrack. “I mean, I’m not saying you’re not strong or anything, but I was kinda delirious and I memorized his information back when I was in school and it was—”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve interrupted you softly, trying to stifle his smile. “I didn’t take it personally. The Army didn’t find a connection between you and Bucky, and we figured you kept saying his name, rank, and service number like soldiers are trained to do when they’re under duress so you could get through the worst of it.”

You snorted. “After they started really torturing me, yeah, I said it because of that. At first, it was just out of snark to piss them off. They wanted a soldier, so I gave them one of the best I know.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “And I think Bucky will be kinda proud of that.” The color must have drained from your face, and Steve was instantly alert. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Is he here?” you blurted out, unsure if you were ready to know the answer, let alone what answer you’d prefer.

“He is,” Steve said, still alert but more waiting for your reaction rather than responding to your distress.

“Oh,” you whispered, picking at the fabric of the blanket on your lap. “Is… is he mad?”

Steve frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. You knew there had to be more of the story based on his expression, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what else happened. “Why would he be mad?”

“I used his information, his name… he was kidnapped, tortured, and brainwashed by Hydra for decades.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I’m just a photographer that was at the wrong place at the wrong time and got taken for a few weeks. Not even close to what he went through.”

“Y/N,” Steve said softly, reaching out to gently place his hand over yours, stopping your fidgeting and making you look up at him, “Bucky’s glad he gave you strength when you were in need. There’s just… other things that happened.”

Dread settled over your mind like a frozen blanket. “What? What did I do?”

“Don’t jump ahead of yourself, just think back. What’s the last thing you remember?” Steve asked.

The further you tried to progress on the thread of memories, the closer you got to the dark area, and the harder the knots in the thread became to untangle. The memories were mostly of violence, knives and fists marring your skin narrated by whispered words of Sergeant Barnes’ name. The last knot in the thread before the dark area was an odd memory, and it filled you with a kind of unsettling warmth you’d never experienced before.

“I remember one of the men, he was... digging a knife into my leg, I remember it hurt so bad, felt like it was on fire. He was saying stuff to me, like how he wanted to,” you cleared your throat, “keep me as a pet soldier, like how Hydra had one. I don’t… my whole body felt like I had been electrocuted, everything was tingling and there was this flash of images in my head. Then I felt warm all over, and the last thing I remember before everything went black was grabbing the hilt of the knife where it was sticking out of my leg.” Your eyes widened in horror and you stared at Steve, tears blurring your vision. “What did I do? Please, I need to know.”

Steve scrubbed a hand down his face and sat back in his chair. “I’m not going to lie to you, Y/N. We, or at least some of the smartest people I know, think you may have somehow connected to Bucky… psychically. The trauma of being tortured and held prisoner might have activated a dormant mutant or enhanced ability.”

“What?” you whispered. “I’m… what?” The sheer thought of you having some kind of powers like that was ridiculous, and you had to force yourself to not laugh. “That makes no sense.”

“It took us a bit to figure out, but Dr. Austin thinks that because you were in a desperate situation, your abilities manifested to save your life, and allowed your mind to link to someone you’d been thinking about, regardless of distance.” Steve took a deep breath and exhaled slowly out of his nose. “A lot of the science and technical side of it is way beyond my range of understanding, but basically she thinks that since your power was new and born out of a survival instinct, it didn’t know when or even how to break the link between you and him. Bucky’s consciousness and memories, whether it was due to his own enhanced abilities or his previous trauma being so intense, began to take over your mind.”

“So… Sergeant Barnes… possessed me?” you asked. The explanation sounded plausible, however improbable, but seeing as how there were now space aliens and wizards on Earth, nothing really sounded impossible nowadays. “Is that why I have no memory until I woke up a few minutes ago? How long was I… how long did he have control over me?”

Steve raised his hands to calm you, obviously sensing or maybe even hearing your heartbeat begin to gallop wildly in your chest. “Bucky wasn’t controlling you, Y/N. He didn’t ‘possess you’,” Steve made air quotes with his fingers, “in the way you’re thinking. Your mind was suppressed and his mind was feeding you his memories only. You were experiencing them as if you were Bucky. He wasn’t controlling what you were doing; the similar reactions you had to things he’d experienced were due to those memories and the PTSD that came from them.”

You blinked a few times, your mouth slightly open. Theoretically it made sense, but it felt like Steve was describing some kind of science fiction movie to you, not explaining something that had happened to you. “I’m so confused.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, I was too. It’s a lot to take in. To simplify it and use Bucky’s words, you were essentially trapped in some kind of virtual reality in your mind, living out his past memories, and you couldn’t take off the headset. You have no memory of what occurred after you linked with Bucky because his memories were providing the knowledge you needed… your brain didn’t make its own.”

Even though Steve was doing a good job explaining things, you knew there had to be something he wasn’t telling you; you could always tell when people were dancing around a truth they were avoiding. You looked down at your lap and began to rub the blanket between your fingers again, ignoring how the fabric had begun to pill due to the friction. “Did I kill someone?”

Steve was silent for a few seconds before he heaved a heavy sigh. “Yes. The four men that were holding you captive. Based on how they were killed, we think you used information from Bucky’s memories and training to kill them.”

“I didn’t hurt anyone else, did I?” you asked quietly. While the idea of killing anyone made your stomach clench and sent bile rising in the back of your throat, your captors were far from innocent, and if it made you a bad person to not feel too much sympathy for those men, then so be it.

“No, not that we know of,” Steve said. “According to the Army rescue team that was sent to investigate the store—good thinking with the Morse code, by the way—they found you sitting calmly in the corner of the room you must have been kept in. Bucky seems to think that, if you were going off of his memories and instincts while he was the Winter Soldier, you were likely waiting for a Hydra extraction team. It’s what he would have done after the, uhhh, the targets were eliminated. Lieutenant Weasley, the leader of that Army rescue squad, said the moment he told you the mission was over, you dropped unconscious, just like how Bucky was conditioned to do as well.”

As Steve was talking, you were trying to reach into your mind, trying to pull anything from the dark spaces in your memories. Each time you tried, you were only met with a black canvas where memories should have been, throbbing in your head, and silence… no fragments or flashes of any kind of recollection of the events Steve was explaining. Ignoring the increasing pain behind your eyes, you tried to reach back further, and an odd flash of a memory you didn’t recognize assaulted your mind’s eye.

“Did you...” You stopped abruptly, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to make sense of what you just saw. “Did you used to feed stray cats on the fire escape of an apartment? One of the cats… an orange named Rusty? Named him after—”

“One of the guys that worked with Bucky down at the docks,” Steve finished for you, his voice light with disbelief. “How did you know that?”

You lifted your head and locked watery eyes on Steve. “I… don’t know.” You winced, grabbing your head, the throbbing and sharp pain starting to compound and intensify. “Ah, I can’t—”

“It’s okay,” Steve soothed as he stood up, helping you lie back down before pulling the blanket up to your chest, almost tucking you in. “Get some rest. Don’t hurt yourself trying to remember things, you’ll get there.”

The urge to fight being babied welled up in your body, but the mental strain and resulting exhaustion had finally caught up with you. You made a weak unhappy noise of protest, which Steve chuckled at, before you allowed yourself to drift off into a much more peaceful darkness than the one plaguing your memories.

***

Steve rejoined Bucky, Tony, and Dr. Austin in one of the conference rooms down the hallway from the doctor’s office, and rehashed what little information he’d gathered from his conversation with Y/N. The confusion and gaps in memories they expected, but when Steve mentioned her comment about the stray cat he used to feed, Bucky’s eyes went wide.

“That’s impossible,” Bucky breathed out, shaking his head and trying not to squeeze the life out of the leather chair he had his hands braced against. “That was back in… what, ‘38? A few years after your mom died? You and I were the only people living in that place, Steve. Even my ma didn’t know about those cats.”

“Well, Y/N was able to recall your memories and training in order to kill her captors, it makes sense that she might have seen or absorbed other memories at the same time without knowing.” Dr. Austin leaned her elbow against the conference table and rubbed her forehead. “The mental strain of Sergeant Barnes’ memories on top of these abilities being new to her… she might not know how to separate things, or her memories are jumbled with yours.”

“You said the link was broken, right, doc?” Tony asked, tapping away on one of his Stark tablets, murmuring things to FRIDAY once in a while under his breath. “Buckinator over here isn’t feeding our Sarah Connor any more memories?”

Bucky scowled and he winced when he heard the leather of the chair begin to rip under his metal fingertips. “I wasn’t sent to kill her, asshole,” he grumbled.

Tony looked at Bucky over the top of his tablet and blinked in disbelief. “Barnes got a pop culture reference. Did you all hear that? FRIDAY, make a note in my calendar. I think we need to petition Ellis for a new national holiday.”

“Tony,” Steve sighed, ignoring the subsequent rambling about press releases coming from Tony in favor of looking over at the doctor. “Dr. Austin, they aren’t linked anymore, right?”

“No, I confirmed with brain scans on both Y/N and Sergeant Barnes. Their level of brain activity is back to baseline, or at least, whatever baseline should be for a super soldier and a new psychic.” Dr. Austin pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, staring off in the distance.

Steve had seen this look before in both Tony and Bruce when they were trying to figure out something in their head, or trying to piece together clues, and knew it could last for a while. “Doctor?” Steve prodded her gently.

“Oh,” Dr. Austin said, starting slightly, giving Steve an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I have an acquaintance I may be able to reach out to. Psychic abilities and how to control them are quite out of my wheelhouse, medical studies can only get us so far. I worked with this professor and his team a few times in the past on classified projects when I was freelancing, and he might be able to offer some advice.”

“Anything that could help,” Steve said with a nod, his eyes tracking Dr. Austin as she excused herself from the room, her cell phone already in her hand. Steve looked over at Bucky, seeing the same defeated expression he’d worn on his face for months after he’d broken free of Hydra. “Buck, you gotta quit blaming yourself.”

“Why do people think doing or not doing something in their head is as easy as flipping a damn switch?” Bucky growled angrily, making Steve’s head jerk back at the sudden aggression. Bucky’s face relaxed and he grunted softly, dropping into the chair he was just squeezing. “Sorry.”

“S’okay, I get it,” Steve murmured, “it’s been a long day. How are you feeling anyways?”

“Physically? Fine. The hunger’s gone and I’m not exhausted anymore. Mentally?” Bucky snorted, ducking his chin. “How would you feel if someone accidentally linked minds with you and your brain made them relive you going into the ice over and over again? Or made them relive you getting sick a bunch when you were a kid?”

Steve sat down in the seat next to Bucky and sighed. “I would hate it, but it was an accident, Buck. Nothing you could have done to prevent it.”

“Doesn’t make him any less stupid for running into Y/N’s room alone like that,” Tony said, suddenly standing behind the two men. “You’re lucky I had my suit’s gauntlet wristwatch on me and pulled you back. Touching her could have killed you. Killed you both.”

Bucky knew it was a longshot, and the helplessness he felt knowing Y/N was stuck inside his memories spurred him into action. After being Hydra’s pawn for decades, he made a vow to never feel that helpless again if he could. “Yeah, well, it didn’t. I thought that if she was reliving my memories, then seeing me could snap her out of it. Like… waking her up from a nightmare.”

“Like a glitch in the Matrix. Smart,” Tony said the word like it physically pained him, “I guess.”

“Whether we agree about Bucky’s methods or not, it worked. The Army is going to want to debrief Y/N when she wakes up, but based on what I’ve gathered, she doesn’t have any memories of actually killing her captors. Her recollection ends moments after one of the guys stabbed her in the leg with a knife.”

“Probably the same guy who got the bladed uppercut that was found in the room she was being held in,” Bucky mused, recalling the photos in the file they were given. “Good riddance. Who knows what they would have done to her if she hadn’t killed them.”

The three men sat in silence for several long moments, each going over varying degrees of horrible scenarios which could have played out instead. Dr. Austin’s voice drifted in from the hallway, steadily getting louder as she approached the conference room again, drawing each of their attentions to the doorway.

“... thank you again, Charles. I’ll let you know the next time I’m back in New York,” she said with a smile before lowering her phone and tapping the screen to end the call. Dr. Austin raised a brow at the distressed and pensive looks spread across Tony, Steve, and Bucky’s faces, but decided not to ask.

“Any news from your friend, Doc?” Tony spoke up first.

“Yes,” Dr. Austin replied, tucking her cell phone into her white coat. “He confirmed that Y/N is in fact a mutant, but there’s something else.”

When Dr. Austin didn’t continue immediately, Tony flailed his arms up in the air. “Well? Were you pausing for dramatic effect or something?”

Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and ignored Tony’s outburst. “He was able to do a non-invasive read of her mind.” When all three men opened their mouths at once, Dr. Austin raised her hands, stopping them from whatever protests they were going to make. “Gentlemen, I assure you, the professor is an expert and powerful psychic himself, he knows what he’s doing. He told me that someone has manipulated her memories.”

Bucky blinked. “Well, yeah… isn’t that what happened when she accidentally linked with me? We already know this.”

“No, not recent memories,” Dr. Austin explained. “Her entire childhood has been wiped and rewritten.”

***

Connected Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @that-one-gay-girl @fanofalltheficsx @joseyrw @lana-writes-04 @gia-25 @klanceiscannon14 @ahahafudge @genderfluid-ho

[thr-333]

Just Another Class Trip :) Part 5

If you don’t get to fight Batman on your class trips I feel sorry for you because Marinette did and she had a great time. Besides from the fact the miracle box went missing that was kind of a downer.

First< Previous >Next

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

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” Chloe yells at her, Marinette pops her head up through the trash, “Just what do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m looking for something Chlo,” Marinette tries not to betray the panic in her voice.

“You did not ditch us today to search the trash!” Chloe practically screeches, stomping her foot.

“Chloe! I just really, really need to find this ok?!” Chloe actually recoils at Marinette snapping at her, guilt claws at her, adding more scratches to her conscience, “Sorry, I’m just stressed,”

“You need to relax Mari,” Chloe sighs, she cant, she cant! She cant! “I will only forgive you if you come upstairs and have a shower right now ,”

Marinette glances to Tikki, who nods. They’ve searched the trash here three times over, the Miracle box isn’t here. She lets Chloe lead her upstairs, the ground feels like it's swaying under her feet. The pressure like she’s about to vomit has persisted for hours.

“I will be standing right here, so don’t even think about leaving before you are rid of that smell,” Chloe pushes her into the bathroom.

“Tikki what am I supposed to do,” Marinette curls into herself, as soon as the door closes “I looked everywhere, it-it’s gone ,”

“It’s alright Marinette I’m sure you’ll find it, you just need to think things through,” Tikki pats her arm, not blaming her even once, making everything so much worse.

“Exactly, so chin up,” Kaalki commands, Marinette listens looking at the hovering Kwami with swimming vision, “Now make a theory and we’ll work from there,”

“Only Adrien was in the apartment but he didn’t take it,” Marinette works through her thoughts, “I know he wouldn't have,”

“Good,”

“He was gone for two hours talking with Chloe and Kagami,”

“Exactly,”

“So someone stole it during that time,” Marinette had already concluded that but it was nice to lay it all out, “I thought it was Lila, but she would have just thrown it out,”

“Or,”

“Or kept it,” Marinette gets the picture, formulating a plan, “I have to search her room, as Starling they can get away with it,”

“Good I’ll transport you in there,” Kaalki nods, dipping into her bag to get a sugar cube, “Now change,”

Marinette listens and within minutes they are in Lila's room. The shower running back in Chloe's room. Starling pokes around the room, searching under the bed and in the closet. She spreads out to the whole apartment since Lila isn’t sharing with anyone.

She is opening the oven when the door opens. She freezes, coming eye to eye with Lila. In a split second Starling darts into the bathroom.

“Come out of there!” Lila bangs on the door, “Who are you! I’m calling the police!”

Marinette doesn't give her the chance, teleporting out of the bathroom.

Chloe fights to make her come to dinner that night. Marinette doesn't have the strength to argue and so is dragged along, glaring at Lila from across the table. Lila just looks smugly back, she has to know where the Miracle box is, she just has to.

“Is that the new Wayne?” Marinette hears someone across the restaurant whisper.

Wonder who they’re talking about

“The one with the pink scarf?”

Oh

“Take a picture!”

If Marinette could summon the energy she would go over and ask what they meant. Or tell them they had the wrong person. Instead she just hides her face in her arms, lying on the table.

“Head off the table,” Madame Bustier chides, Marinette listens, but doesnt bother answering.

“Oh Marinette,” Lila’s voice is so grating she is ready to send her head through the table, “You look just terrible, what happened?”

You

“Are you ok Marinette,” Rose asks, she was actually nice to Marinette either unaware of the divide or not caring, “Do you want to go back?”

Marinette supposes Lila never had to lie about her to Rose. As she was already running around after Lila trying to make sure she was comfortable, Marinette just fell by the wayside. Either way Marinette can see that changing in the near future with how livid Lila looks that Marinette got the slightest bit of positive attention.

“I know jetlag can be bad, with all my travels,” Could you get to the part where you antagonise me already? “But don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?

“Sure Lila,” Marinette sighs, actually getting a few shocked gasps from the class.

They all probably thought that if Lila said the sky was blue Marinette would disagree. Well she would probably double check. Plus the sky is black at night. And multicoloured during sunrise and sunset. You know what? Screw it, Marinette would not trust Lila if she said the sky is blue.

“So Lila,” Alya speaks up, “ What's the worst jet lag you’ve ever had?”

“Well..”

Marinette doesn’t bother listening. She does get the side eye from Alya.

This doesn't mean I like you

Feelings mutual buddy

However it does allow her to lean against Kagami for the rest of the night and doze off. Marinette doesn't pay anymore attention to Lila’s lies the rest of the night until it comes to getting back to the hotel. They are all piling into taxis when Lila weasels her way into getting her own. Covertly Marinette slides a hundred to the driver and sends them to a less than savoury part of town. Now it’s just up to Starling to keep up.

Luckily for her Lila decides to be an idiot, and actually gets out of the car. So Starling drops in front of her when the taxi drives off.

“You!” Lila backs up into the alley, really ?

“You stole something,” Starling stalks forward, appearing every bit of threatening as a sleep deprived guardian of the miraculous can be, which is pretty fucken scary when the Miracle box is on the line, “Where is it!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Lila tears up.

“Do not lie to me ,” Starling punctuates the threat by bending a discarded metal pipe in half.

Lila squeaks, as she backs up against the wall, Starling cages her in.

“WHERE IS IT!”

The absolute terror on Lila’s face is so gratifying for a moment. Then a cold terror runs down Marinette as Lila smiles. The same smile that promises to ruin her life every day.

“Help!” Lila cries, her voice quavering in a poor imitation of the actual fear she just saw, “Please anyone!”

Anyone turns out to be the hand on her shoulder that rips Starling back. They go to grab her arm but she flips out of their grasp, getting enough distance to come face to face with The Batman!

Before she can even think about formulating a response Batman lashes out, going straight for her gut. Starling side steps, twisting around to stand in Batman’s blind spot, making him turn to see her.

“Why are you attacking a civilian?” He demands, a knife she dodges barely grazing her cheek.

“She stole something,” Marinette drops down as he swings a punch at her head.

“That’s not true!” Lila cries, huddled up against the wall, “They broke into my hotel room today! And then they attacked me! They’re trying to kidnap me!”

“She’s lying!” Apparently that’s not convincing enough as she dodges a kick, having to roll away, thankfully towards the exit.

She tries to make a run for it, getting halfway up the fire escape of the next building when a Batarang pins her cape down. She tears it out, throwing it back at the shadow who hangs in midair.

Wow that is not aerodynamic at all

She watches as it tapers off to the side, falling to the ground. Batman swings onto the staircase of the fire escape. She dodges, she slips on a stair, losing her balance. Batman aims a punch for her sternum she has no choice but to block. It hurts getting an armoured glove full impact onto her relatively light arm guards. In her defense she never prepared to fight The Batman.

He seems to be taken aback that she is able to block his punch, or is re-planning. She takes the opportunity to use her bit of super strength to push him off the fire escape, double checking he still has his grappling hook. He falls down as she bolts up the stairs. By the time she reaches the top he is already on the roof

She has no weapons to defend herself against another Batarang. She can’t slip away like she did last time so has no choice but to dodge.

“I don’t want to fight you!” She yells, rolling out of the way of another Batarang.

“I’m sure you don’t,”

“Not like that!” There's no reasoning with him then, he made up his mind and is going to beat her before asking any questions, “You know what never mind!”

She sprints to the edge of the building. He doesn’t particularly try to stop her, after all he thinks she has no escape route. Which means he was not expecting her to jump right off the building.

“Kaalki, Full gallop,” She says quietly to her Kwami, putting on her glasses.

She transforms, opening a portal inches from the ground, she lands in her hotel bedroom. Dropping the transformation, she collapses onto the bed. She pants lungs burning, soon she realises she hasn't been taking any air.

What does she have to be stressed about? So she lost the Miracle box, an ancient treasure able to harness the gods? So it was all her fault for shirking off her duties for fun. So it was all her fault that she technically attacked a civilian without any proof. So it was her fault Batman attacked her and she’s probably a criminal now. So what?

She chokes around words, apologies to her Kwamis, to Master Fu, to everyone she has failed today. Instead her vision blurs and she has to take gasping breaths, shuddering in the warm room. She curls up on top of the blankets tucked in too tight to provide her with comfort. Too perfect, too well done, everything she isn’t.

Tikki nuzzles into her cheek, Marinette shudders out a breath, curling more into herself. Kaalki comes to rest near her heart. The magical thrum of the Kwami calming her heart beat. There are no words. There don’t need to be. There’s no one here to send Akuma after them. For once Marinette can cry, let her emotions run rampant. Then she’ll harness everything she has into protecting the Miracle box.

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

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[flowercrown-bard]

A new us will begin (interlude)

the loveliest @thingr2 asked for Dandy’s pov of what happens between chapter eight and nine (thanks for letting me procrastinate a little longer by writing things like this instead ;) )

I’m not sure if there are spoilers for the rest of the fic in this and this is unedited

word count: 4k

Tw: mention of past major character death, blood

„We have to turn back!“ Dandy shouted. One cry in a row of a hundred others. The whole ride through he had pleaded, cried, begged for Mika to just turn around. “Geralt is still back there. Mika, please!”

His pleas fell on death ears. Or perhaps Mika did answer. At first, they had tried to sooth Dandy, reassuring them with soft words like a mother would a child when the child was scared of a monster. But Dandy wasn’t a child anymore. And not all monsters were figments of children’s imagination. Some children died fleeing monsters. Some mothers did too.

And yet Mika kept fleeing. They all did. Whether they were still trying to calm Dandy or if they had given up by now, Dandy wouldn’t be able to tell. His blood rushed too loudly in his ears and the hoof drums sounded like thunder; the merciless rhythm of a battle song, getting louder with each beat that carried him further from Geralt, the horse’s panting creating the skincrawling harmonies.

And above all was Dandy’s own voice, a terrible solo in dissonance with the rest of the music.

“Geralt!” There were no more words left. Dandy had written a play. In his most private moments, he had even tried his hand at poetry. His words had brought audience members to tears and made his friends laugh. Now, though there was nothing. No poetry, no artful prose. Just the name of the man who might never say Dandy’s name again.

Dandy wished he could do more than scream that name. He wished he could jump off the horse, run back and safe Geralt from whatever he was facing, all alone and not knowing if the troupe would come back for him. They needed to come back for him!

But Dandy might as well have been chained to the horse. Even if he somehow got down to feel solid ground beneath his feet, he would have no way of telling where he was or where he should be going. All he could do was cling onto Mika’s arms around him and pray he didn’t fall off.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity – even a couple of minutes could have been too long, could have been enough to let Geralt die all alone – he felt the horse slow beneath him. He was jostled worse than before when Roach went from a gallop to a trod, until eventually, her movements got smoother and halted completely.

There was clanging and muttered words of relief as the others dismounted. Dandy was forced to remain on top of Roach until someone tapped his leg and told him to slowly dismount.

Strong arms caught him, guiding him down until his feet reached the ground. It wasn’t the arms he had secretly hoped he would feel. Dandy knew it was impossible, but a foolish part of him had hoped that Geralt had somehow seen reason, that he had followed them and was safe with them now.

But the arms holding them felt different. The voice reassuring him that he was fine wasn’t deep or raspy enough. It was loving, but it lacked that special undertone that always tinged Geralt’s voice and made Dandy’s heart beat faster.

Now, his heart only raced with fear.

“Geralt.” His voice was but a breath. “Where is he?”

The silence that followed was answer enough. No one knew. No one had dared slow down their flight enough to see if Geralt needed help.

“He’s a witcher,” the person holding him finally said. “He’ll be fine. He came with us to protect us and that’s what he’s doing.”

“No he didn’t!” Dandy was taken aback himself by the unexpected sharpness of his voice. “He didn’t. He is with us, because I asked him to come. I am the reason why he’s in danger, because I was too selfish to leave without at least trying to keep him close. And now he might die-“ His voice cracked and his eyes began to burn. “And he will be all alone. I can’t let him be alone! I have to go back, I have to be with him-“

“Dandy!” The hands holding his upper arms tightened and the sharp tone brought his spiralling thoughts to a grinding halt. “You have to calm down. We won’t just abandon Geralt. He’s one of us. You know we don’t just abandon family.”

Dumbly Dandy nodded. The gesture felt empty, like a mask he was putting on, but there was a familiarity to it. Remembering how to react with his expressions and gestures was just enough of a distraction to stop him from going back to crashing into the abyss of terror and anger.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know. But he’s – “

“Nadine is getting help,” the person reassured him. “We’re outside a town. Nadine is talking to the alderman as we speak. All we can do is wait now for help to arrive.”

Waiting. Again. It seemed that was all Dandy could do. In his mind, he spun an impossible future, in which he swung himself onto Roach, kidnapped her and rode off to find Geralt. He found himself mentally going through all kinds of stiches and potions that might help a wounded witcher. He already dreamed about dragging Geralt back to an inn room and taking care of him until he could be sure Geralt would survive.

Rationally, he knew that those fantasies were nothing more than that: Cruel dreams that taunted him with how unachievable they were. Dandy couldn’t climb on top of a horse again. All he could do now was pull away from the person holding him - just enough to take a few steps, but still touching them for orientation- and clinging to Roach’s neck instead, her warm breath huffing against his neck and her hooves stomping nervously. It probably wasn’t the best idea to be so close to an unsettled horse, but for some reason, being near Roach was a bigger comfort than listening to his troupe’s words as they tried to comfort him. Geralt always smelled of Roach. Being so close to her, he could nearly imagine what it would smell like, if Roach’s scent was mixed with the smoke of a campfire and the heavy scent of pines.

Imaginings. That was all Dandy had now, wasn’t it? Imagining Geralt was alight. Imagining Dandy could somehow help him.

No one in their right mind would let Dandy sew up a wound and he didn’t even know if witchers truly took potions. Geralt had never talked about any such thing and neither had Dandy’s tutor ever mentioned potions – and she had made sure that he knew plenty of witchers, Geralt of Rivia especially. She would have told him if Geralt needed potions, wouldn’t she?

But Dandy could do nothing. His whole being was filled with one single thought, one unbending need: To get back to Geralt. To be with him. To make sure he wasn’t alone.

Geralt didn’t deserve to live alone. He didn’t deserve to die alone either.

By the time voices drew nearer and people were shouting about getting gallons of water onto a wagon, Dandy almost felt numb, his fantasies about how life could be no longer sustaining him.

It was only when he heard the squeaking of too slow wagons rolling away, when he snapped back to full alertness.

“Nadine!” he shouted without thinking. He had no way of knowing if she was anywhere close enough to be able to hear him, but she was probably leading the helpful townsfolk. And she would never ignore one of her family if they needed her. She hadn’t ignored him when he had still been a boy, barely deserving to be called a young man, insecure and uncertain if he’d ever be able to find his own footing. Back then, she hadn’t hesitated to give him a place in her family and not once had she let him down when he had needed her. “Nadine, take me with you! I need to go back to him!”

Painfully tense seconds passed in which no one responded. The shuffling, squeaking, shouting continued and Dandy was left as he was, feeling like he was alone standing on a rock in the sea while a storm raged around him. He couldn’t tell when the first wave was going to crash into him and drag him under.

Heavy steps came closer and a hand tugged at his sleeves. “It’s me, Kara.”

Dandy tensed. “Kara, please –“

She didn’t let him finish. “Mika’s helping getting the water on the wagons and Nadine is making sure the rest are unharmed.”

“I can help. I swear I’m not useless. I can help with Geralt –“

“Doesn’t matter,” Kara said firmly. “I don’t care if you’re useless or the most useful person in the world. Geralt is important to you and you’re important to all of us, so I’ll be damned if I don’t take you with me.”

The pressure that had steadily been building behind Dandy’s eyes finally became too much. Tears welled over, rolling down his cheeks as his shoulders shook with sobs. There had been no wave crashing into him. Dandy had been the one to crash. Now, he would drag himself back on land and he would make sure Geralt would emerge from the sea-tossed storm with him.

He let Kara hoist him on top of Roach again and felt her saddle up behind him. She called out to someone else – Jasof, Iva, Marin. The stagehands; the strongest of the troupe.

Dandy assumed they were riding with them, as Kara clucked her tongue and spurned Roach on once more.

Impossibly, the way back felt even longer than it had taken them to get to the town. But this time, Dandy could tell they were getting close, even before the horses slowed.

There was crackling in the air, roaring, hissing. A wave of heat hit him in the face. Immediately, his eyes teared up again and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep out the burning sensation. It didn’t work. The overpowering stench of smoke filled his lungs, choking him, drowning him.

“Geralt,” he wheezed.

Kara’s let out a noise that probably was supposed to sound soothing, but the tremble in her body that was pressed against Dandy’s proved her act a lie.

“Stay here,” Kara commanded once she had dismounted and helped Dandy down again.

Dandy did as he was bid, fisting his hand into Roach’s mane. It was all he could do.

He felt painfully naked without his cane and when Kara stepped away from him, he had no way of orienting himself, no hope of knowing if he’d be any help or put them all in even more danger if he were to move.

A new wave of smoke rattled his lungs and his whole body shook with his coughs. Roach grew more and more agitated by the second, neighing and stomping her hooves.

“Where is he?”

The shout startled Dandy out of his frozen panic.

“I can’t find him. I – there’s blood.”

No. No!

Before Dandy could think twice about what he was doing, he pushed himself away from Roach and took an uncertain step. His heart was racing in his chest, all instincts telling him to turn back, to cling to Roach, to stay where he was! He didn’t know where he was going. He might be walking straight into danger and he’d be nonethewiser.

Snow crunched beneath his feet. The fire roared to his right. Roach huffed to his left. And his friends shouted helplessly for Geralt all around him.

The cacophony of noise made him even more disoriented. Where was he? Was he even anywhere close to Geralt?

He didn’t know. And yet his feel carried him forwards, shuffling, slow and careful. One miniscule step at the time, his hands stretched out before him. He wished he had his cane with him. He wished he knew where anything was. He wished Geralt was here to gently guide him.

But he was alone.

And yet…

There was something compelling him to move. I need to find him. I need to get back to him. I can’t leave him alone!

The words repeated over and over in his mind like a mantra, like they were the essence of that his soul was made up of. Just the need to get back to find Geralt. In this moment, his entire life was directed towards that one goal and for some reason he couldn’t explain, he knew with an unnatural certainty that he could fulfil his wish. He could find Geralt. He always would.

His foot caught on something. He staggered and fell forward, catching the fall with his hands. They met something solid. Wood. It splintered and dug into his hand, but it was unmistakable nonetheless.

It wasn’t enough to orient himself or give him any clue about why a wagon seemed to be so close to the ground, but it was a start. He trailed his hands over the wood, following the edge, crawling along the line of the destroyed wagon.

Until finally, his hands found something other than wood. It was soft, warm, and moving shallowly with weak breaths.

“Geralt,” he whispered, his voice breaking with hope he didn’t dare to latch onto. His throat went tight. It was him. It had to be him!

Dandy’s hands roamed over every inch of him he could find. His fingers found cold metal and closed around it instinctively. Round, with bumps in the middle. Geralt’s medallion. It was vibrating, pulsing in time with Dandy’s heartbeat.

His hands wandered lower and met something wet and sticky.

His stomach twisted and his blood felt cold as the snow that was soaking him where he kneeled on the ground.

“Kara!” he shouted over the roaring of the fire. “He’s here! I found him! He needs help!”

His voice was raw, shrill with fear.

He heard people running towards him, felt a pair of hands pulling him away, holding him tight. He couldn’t tell if the person holding him wanted to make sure he knew where he was or if they wanted to make sure that he stayed where he was. Holding him or holding him back.

It felt like the latter.

Dandy focussed all his senses on Geralt. He heard groans, pants and splintering. The others must be lifting the wood off of Geralt. They were the strongest of the troupe. They had to be strong enough for this…right?

After another helpless eternity, the world around Dandy grew louder. More shouts. The squealing of a wooden wagon. Splashing and hissing as water met fire.

The townsfolk must have arrived and they must be extinguishing the fire. And yet no one was hastening to Geralt.

“A healer!” He heard someone cry. “We have an injured person!”

“He’s dead,” came the reply that made Dandy’s hands clench on his thighs and made him strain against the hold. “No one can survive being crushed under a wagon.”

“He can!” Dandy shouted. The arms around him tightened. “He’s a witcher! He can survive more than that. He got swallowed by a selkimore and survived. He made it through the war with Nilfgaard. He is the only witcher who survived extra trials!”

He didn’t know how much of that was even true. Maybe it was something his tutor had told him about or maybe it was just something his panicked mind was making up, trying to convince him that he wasn’t about to lose Geralt.

The shouting stopped.

“A witcher?” There was something in that unfamiliar voice. Something terrible. Cold fury. Hot, burning hatred.  “You didn’t tell us we were helping a witcher.”

“I didn’t think it necessary,” Nadine said in that tone she used when the actors messed around too much during rehearsals. “He needs help and we are –“

“We’re not helping mutants,” the stranger spat.

The sound of movement fluttered around Dandy.

“What are you talking about?” Dandy tried to pull himself free. Maybe it was better that Kara was stronger than him. It wouldn’t have ended well for him if he had freed himself. “He is a good man! He saved us and he has been saving people for a century!”

“Let him save himself then.” Dandy could practically hear the sneer in the stranger’s voice. “Or better yet, let him die.”

“How dare you, you worthless son of a –“

Quick steps approaching, Kara and Nadine shouting in tandem and then a smack in his face that flung his head to the side.

He let out a sharp cry, more out of shock than pain. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could feel Kara shift their positions, bringing herself between Dandy and the man who had hit him.

The stranger didn’t let that deter him.

“Listen here, you bastard,” the man hissed in a low voice that sent shivers down Dandy’s spine. “My town won’t help mutants like him. We are leaving. You’re lucky we don’t burn down the rest of your wagons for tricking us.” Snow crunched, as he got even closer. Dandy could feel Kara tense. “You can be lucky you’re still alive. Someone like you…breakable, gullible, expendable. Of course you’d feel kinship with someone else who’s just as unwanted as you. But you should let him die. Or else you’ll be the one to die. Maybe not today, but sooner or later, he’ll be the cause of your death and when that day comes remember that I warned you.”

“That’s enough-“ Nadine’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Leave him alone. I appreciate that you helped with the fire, but I won’t let you talk to Dandy like-“

“I don’t care.” Dandy said, a fire coming to life in his chest, growing stronger with each word the man had spoken. “I don’t care what you say, Sir. If I had to, I would stand between Geralt and the likes of you any time. I will defend him as long as there is breath in my lungs to speak and tell people like you that you are wrong.”

For a tense moment, there was only silence. Then finally, the man huffed and retreated, the other people that had followed him here to fight the fire, following him once again.

Dandy should have felt triumph at having had the last word, but all he had was a coldness and heaviness spreading through his limbs.

He hadn’t known – Geralt had told him that not all people liked witchers. He had warned him. But Dandy hadn’t realised that this dislike, this unreasonable hatred went so deep that people would leave Geralt to die.

When Geralt had told Dandy that he was hated, he had meant for it to warn Dandy to stay away from him. All it did now, was solidify what Dandy had already known: That he would stand by Geralt, stand between him and the world if he had to and stay there until no one doubted that Geralt was worth defending – even if Geralt himself was one of the people Dandy had to convince of that.

He stood to the side, leaning against Kara, until someone pressed his cane into his hand. The familiar weight made him let out a dry sob. It was too much. It was all too much. And he was doing too little.

He could do nothing but listen as the others carried Geralt into one of the wagons, only moving to say that they could put him in Dandy’s wagon. He heard Clarisse say that stitching up wounds was nothing like sewing costumes, but she would still try everything in her power to treat Geralt’s wounds.

As Dandy waited, something nudged his shoulder from behind. Warm breath ghosted over his neck.

“Roach,” he said without thinking about it twice or asking anyone if he assumed correctly. A weak smile stretched his lips as he caressed her nose. “He’s going to be fine. I promise, he will be alright.”

He wished he could believe it himself.

Later, when he was finally allowed to go into his wagon and see to Geralt himself, he sat down on the bed heavily. His hands twitched at his sides, before finally, he reached out, finding Geralt’s hair and running through it in a soothing motion. He didn’t know if he was trying to calm Geralt or himself.

Once he started touching him, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t be apart from him again. Not now, not after being left unknowing for so long whether Geralt would live or die.

“Geralt,” he whispered, leaning closer until he could feel Geralt’s breath ghosting across his face. “Geralt, can you hear me?”

No reply. Dandy pressed his free hand against Geralt’s chest, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest, tracing the medallion that hummed at his touch. His fingers tapped a rhythm onto it. A melody was at the tip of his tongue, but couldn’t fully form. He wished he could sing for Geralt now. He wished he could do anything to make sure Geralt would stay with him forever.

“Don’t leave me, Geralt,” he whispered and meant more than such simple words could say. “Don’t ever go. I can’t lose you. Don’t make me lose you.” His words came from deep inside his soul and yet, they somehow felt like someone else’s words, like an echo of something he had heard before.

Geralt was still out. But he would survive. He had to. But in case he didn’t…

“I love you, Geralt.” He tilted his head forward, his lips meeting a scarred cheek. His fingers came up caressing the scar as if it could take away the pain that had caused it.

He wished Geralt could somehow feel his touch and know that he wasn’t alone.

“J’skr.”

Dandy’s whole body tensed when Geralt let out the garbed sound.

“Geralt?” he urged him.

Geralt let out a long sigh and beneath his fingers, Dandy could feel Geralt’s face stretch into a faint smile.

“Jaskier…” Even in his sleep and with the pain that must still be racing through Geralt’s body, his voice sounded unbearably warm and fond.

“I’m here,” Dandy said, caressing his cheek. “I’m-“

He froze. It hadn’t been his name. Jaskier. For a brief, beautiful moment he had been so sure Geralt had spoken his own name.

Bitterness welled up in Dandy. Of course he had been foolish enough to think such a thing. How could he not imagine Geralt saying his name in that tone? It had been what he had dreamed about for months. Sometimes he had even let himself think he could have this, could have Geralt.

But now…

He gave a weak smile. A mask. An act.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “You’re not alone.”

But Jaskier wasn’t here. Geralt was calling out for someone who didn’t sit by his bedside, who couldn’t stroke Geralt’s hair, who couldn’t coax him back to wakefulness. All Geralt had was Dandy.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could be more.”

He swallowed, starting to pull his hand away, when Geralt started mumbling again. Dandy had to strain his ear to understand what he was saying.

“Love you…Jaskier.”

Dandy squeezed his eyes shut. He had known. Long before now. The way Geralt sometimes spoke about his friend, never even mentioning his name out of the pain it would bring. Of course Dandy had known that Geralt loved his friend, his Jaskier.

It was different hearing him say it like this.

What was even worse, was what followed the next hours. Dandy didn’t leave Geralt’s side for a single moment. He spoke to him softly, caressed his hair in comfort and held his hand. Above all, he let his own heart break, listening to Geralt cry out for Jaskier, begging his long lost love not to leave him, to come back to him, to live again.

He listened to Geralt live through Jaskier’s death again.

“I wish you didn’t have to go through that,” Dandy said softly, his voice thick with all the tears that had already dried up. “I wish you never have to go through that again.”

Maybe if he wished hard enough, it would come true. But even a dreamer like him knew that wishes spoken aloud were nothing but wasted breath. For now, Dandy could do nothing but listen to Geralt relive a nightmare and know that no amount of wishing would bring Jaskier back or undo what had already happened.

[jemej3m]

Idk if I said this already but Romeo and Juliet au where Nathan makes sure Neil doesn’t marry Andrew and Neil and Andrew are a little smarter than the original Romeo and Juliet

how much smarter, though

*

Red gown, drawn above his waist. The sleeves fell from the elbow, sweeping the floor with a slit for his forearms. Atop of his fire-lick curls was a golden circlet, glistening in the candlelight. 

It was rumoured that Mary Hatford’s son was the most beautiful thing in a world. Unfortunately for Andrew, he wasn’t just Mary Hatford’s son: he was also the heir of Nathan Wesninski. 

Though the Wymacks and the Wesninskis had once shared Palmetto peacefully, the tragic murder of David Wymack’s wife, Kayleigh Day, and the kidnapping of his son, had not been forgiven. Equally unforgiven was the suspicious death of Riko Moriyama, allied to the Wesninskis under ancient laws. 

And so: they all hated each other. 

War is profitable, Aaron always said, when Renee insisted that perhaps they negotiate a ceasefire rather than another duel. Nobody wants peace.

And whilst Andrew knew that to be true, a traitorous corner of his heart wished that, just for one moment, the two families weren’t constantly at each other’s throats. Only then would Andrew allowed to be with him: the Wesninski son. 

Most knew him as Nathaniel. As his father’s shadow. 

Andrew knew him as Neil. Neil Abram, the flame to Andrew’s shadow. A man loathesome of his father and anguished over his dead mother. 

He was, undoubtedly, the most brilliant thing on Andrew’s horizon. Everythnig else paled in comparison. 

Even now, with the top-half of his face obscured by a golden mask, he was stunning. 

And even though Andrew wore a mask of his own - to be seen on Wesninski grounds as one of Wymack’s proteges would be certain death - Neil gravitated towards him. 

“Why,” Neil said, voice low. He was trying not to smile. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.” 

“I’m simply a travelling merchant,” Andrew bowed. “Seller of souls and blades.”

“Would you, by chance, be selling a moment of your time?” 

Andrew offered his arm. 

It was dangerous to dance with him, when his father was sitting at the banquet table and waiting for Neil to dance with Ichirou Moriyama instead, but Andrew didn’t care. He had a knife up his sleeve and boundless wit: if he was questioned, he’d escape. The only reason that he wasn’t knifing everyone in the room was for Neil’s sake: he’d seen enough bloodshed in his life. Andrew didn’t need to contribute to it. 

“Abby has a plan,” Neil whispered. His apothecary was his only ally and confidante. Andrew had received many a correspondence via her aid. 

“What is it?”

“You need to trust me.” Neil squeezed Andrew’s hand as he was spun around. “Alright?”

“I hate surprises.”

“I know.” 

The tune acquiesced. They stepped back from one another to bow once more. 

“Be at Eden’s Chapel at noon on Sunday,” Neil whispered as they brushed shoulders. “No matter what you hear. Okay?” 

“Neil,” Andrew tried, but he was gone, swept up in a crowd of gathered velvet and silk. 

*

Wymack had many a protege, most of which he considered his own children. Of course, he did also have Kevin, his genuine son, but in his absence he’d procured the strangest mix of deviants and created a family. 

Wymack rescued Andrew and his family from certain peril and poverty. It was the only reason Andrew willingly sat at his large dining table every morning for breakfast: he owed Wymack his life. 

It was Sunday morning: they were all dressed finely to attend the service. Andrew would be departing early to meet Neil at Eden’s chapel, a church way up on the hill. He would have too come back and retrieve a horse to make it there in time for Neil’s arrival. 

Since the masquerade of Friday evening, Andrew had been bereft of all knowledge about Neil’s plans. He could only hope that it would work, and that they would finally find peace and sanctimony. 

Amidst his thoughts, he did not notice his cousin barrel into the room like a rather tenacious tumbleweed. Panting, he gripped the back of Aaron’s chair, eyes lit up with glee. 

“The Wesninski heir!” he announced. “He’s dead! That old bastard is childless and his name will die with him!” 

Every hair on Andrew’s body stood on end. No. No. They had been so close to freedom. Neil could not be dead. He couldn’t.

“Andrew,” Renee said. Andrew had stood up with a sharp jolt: now the whole table was looking at him, shocked he had such a vicious reaction to Nicky’s news. 

“I must leave.” 

“But -” Nicky blinked, confusion. “What about mass?”

Andrew grabbed the first horse he could find and hitched himself onto the saddle, galloping Wesninski-bound. The noble family had their long line of sons buried in a mausoleum on the edge of their land, facing over the cliffs. Beneath their rocky faces were raging waves, smashing themselves against the unforgivable stone. 

The wind was cold but Andrew was colder: the burial grounds were all but abandoned. He threw the reigns over a thinning branch of an olive tree and stumbled towards the stone monolith. 

The door was heavy but desperation was Andrew’s fuel: he shoved it open and shivered as he entered the tomb. 

And there, in the centre of marble coffins, laid Neil. 

Andrew had never seen his skin so pale. A cloth was pulled up to his shoulders, but his head rested on a pillow of rosemary and satin. His hair was pushed back, eyes closed. Between his brows rested the gold pendant of his circlet, the one that fated him as a Wesninski. 

With trembling hands, Andrew reached out for his cheek. He was cold to the touch. His chest neither rose nor fell: his heart was still. 

Agony. Andrew was pretty sure that was what he felt: pure, unadulterated agony. His chest ached. He couldn’t breathe. Neil said he’d had a plan. Neil said to trust him, and now he was dead.

“You,” came a cold voice. “You.” 

Andrew turned around. 

If Neil was beauty, his father was all brutishness. He was sharp and stiff, his face etched with anger and sadism. Andrew felt the pain in his chest rise to his throat. 

Nathan Wesninski pointed a finger at him. “You are one of Wymack’s spawn. You sullied - ruined - my son. The one at his window. The one in his ear. You turned him against me.” 

“You did that yourself,” Andrew said. “And I will kill you for what you’ve done.” 

Nathan drew his sword with a feral roar, but Andrew was faster. Smaller, faster, angrier. It was, retrospectively, an unfair fight: the man was older, with a renowned capacity to inflict pain but none of the finesse. 

Andrew feinted and shoved his blade between one rib and another: the man dropped to the floor with a furious wheeze, eyes rolling back into his head. 

As he dropped, a new figure stepped into the tomb. 

Abby wasn’t much to look at, narrow and cautious. She had her hands held close to her chest, looking at the body of Nathan Wesninski with wide-eyes. 

“Andrew,” she whispered. 

“He’s dead,” he said, hoarse. “How could you let this happen?”

“He’s not dead,” she stepped closer. “He drank a tonic that makes him appear dead.” In her palm rested a small bottle. “I have the elixir to wake him.” 

He snatched it from her grasp and ran to Neil’s side. There were only three droplets: Andrew watched them coat Neil’s lips, grasping onto his hand and praying under his breath. If Renee could see him now, he thought absently, pressing his forehead into Neil’s shoulder. 

With a gasp, the man woke up, colour rushing to his cheeks. He choked, coughing and spluttering. Andrew held his shoulders. 

“Andrew?” he mumbled, weak-voiced and bleary-eyed. “What are you doing here?” 

“You fool,” Andrew snapped. “How did you think I would react when I heard the news that you were dead?” 

“But I wasn’t,” he said, petulant. “I told you to trust me!” 

“I told you we should have written to him,” Abby chided. “Now your father is dead.” 

Neil’s eyes went wide as he looked at his father’s corpse. His head whipped back, gazing up at Andrew. “Did you do that?” 

“It was him or myself,” Andrew responded. “I cannot live without you, Abram.” 

Neil’s lips were still bitter when he pressed them to the corner of Andrew’s mouth. “And I, you."

*

it was short because I'm tired lol 

[hale-13]

Scare Tactics

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 19 Prompt - Fear

“And just to show you we mean business…” Peter flinched when his index finger was grabbed and sharply snapped in half, leaving him breathless. He didn’t scream though. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. “Tough kid,” the leader mused, petting Peter on the head. “I’m going to let my men work him over,” he said to the camera lightly. “You pay me within the next four hours and I won’t start cutting off things he’ll miss. Sure would be a shame… he’s got his whole life ahead of him you know.”

Words: 2407, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Character: Peter Parker, May Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan

TW: Canon Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Torture

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“One more hour! C’mon, just one more hour please,” Peter begged, hands twitching and sweating as he looked around frantically. He could do it. He just had to do it.

“Whatcha doing Pete?” Tony asked right in his ear causing Peter to let out a high pitched scream and rip the VR headset off his head, nearly tossing it into the wall and only barely catching himself at the last second.

“What the fuck!” He exclaimed, panting and placing a hand over his racing heart – it was galloping under his fingertips. Tony, standing next to him with his hand extend like he was reaching out to touch Peter, had his face pinched up like he was trying not to laugh and failing spectacularly.

“What was that?” The man questioned, pulling the headset from Peter’s twitching fingers to set it down on the bed and safely out of reach lest Peter almost throw it again. “You okay?”

“You scared the shit out of me!” Peter told his mentor dramatically as his heart rate slowed to a more manageable rhythm. Damn he was so close to winning!

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “Thought you had a tingle or something,” he said with a teasing tone and that was it, Peter was never letting Tony and May have lunch together again. Tingle… seriously? “What were you doing anyway?” Tony asked, picking the headset back up and turning it around curiously in dexterous fingers.

“Playing FNAF,” Peter said with a shrug. “I had nearly won too!”

“Beg pardon?” Tony asked with a head tilt. “Did you just have a stroke? I don’t speak teenager.”

“It’s a game Mr. Stark,” Peter grumbled, grabbing the headset back to turn it off. “A horror game. You’re a security guard and you have to live through the night without a bunch of animatronic animals killing you.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Tony commented, passing Peter his untouched book bag – he was supposed to be doing homework while Mr. Stark was in a meeting but oh well. He could always do it later, it was the weekend after all. “Happy’s pulling the car around. You sure you don’t want to stay? It’s getting a bit late.”

“I’m good,” Peter insisted, throwing the bag over his back and tightening the straps a little to sit more comfortably. “Besides, May and I are supposed to marathon the new season of Lucifer tonight.”

“Ah yes,” Tony said with a smile. “Do tell aunt hottie I said hello would you? I’m looking forward to our monthly co-parenting coffee date next week – can’t wait to tell her about this!”

Peter groaned and blushed. “Please don’t,” he muttered, skirting around his mentor to get to the door. “See you next week?” He asked as he paused in the doorway, turning back to look at the man and smiling.

“Yeah I’ll see you next week kiddo. Don’t have too much fun this weekend!”

“Bye Mr. Stark!” Peter called as he raced to the elevator, bouncing impatiently on his toes as it descended to the garage where Happy was waiting in one of the many black town cars Stark Industries owned.

“Took you long enough,” he groused good naturedly as Peter hopped into the back, dropping his book bag into the foot well and buckling his seatbelt with a bright ‘hey Happy!’ before pulling out his battered copy of The Collected Works of Shakespeare. He was supposed to finish MacBeth before class on Monday morning and he had been putting it off for a while (re: the last two weeks). Thank god for SparkNotes!

He read in the peaceful silence of the car as Happy navigated the busy Manhattan roads into the more quiet streets of Queens, finally pulling to a stop in front of Peter’s building and unlocking the doors. “See you Monday kid,” he called as Peter jumped out of the car.

“Thanks for the ride Happy!” Peter answered as he shut the door and waved the car off before letting out a sigh. It had been a long week and he was looking forward to just hanging out with May and decompressing. He felt like he barely saw her these days since she moved to working nights – it had been way too long since their last Netflix binge sesh. Peter took the stairs two at a time, forgoing the ancient and slow elevator, and was soon standing outside his door, fumbling for his keys.

As he went to slip the correct key into the lock, Peter felt every hair on his body stand on end as a shiver tore through him. He paused and looked up and down his hallway. Everything was quiet and peaceful, nothing out of place, so why was his Spidey sense tingling? With a gulp, Peter looked at his door and felt his heart freeze in his chest. May!

Peter swiftly unlocked the door and threw it open only to pause just over the threshold.

May was seated in one of their kitchen chairs, pulled into eye line of the door to the apartment, and looking pale but utterly pissed as the masked man behind her jammed the muzzle of his gun further into her temple. Peter, his heart nearly beating out of his chest and his adrenaline spiking to leave a metallic taste in his mouth, held his hands up immediately in surrender. As if it would ever be a question with May involved.

“Close the door,” the man said firmly, jutting his chin and Peter felt it snap closed behind him, paying no mind to the other invaders that were scattered around the room, his eyes stuck only on May.

“What do you want?” He asked, surprised that his voice was steady – he could tell that his body was still and sure but inside he felt like he was about to shake apart; like he was standing in the epicenter of an earthquake.

“Your cooperation mostly,” the man with the gun answered, passing the weapon off to one of his underlings and approaching where Peter stood motionless, hands still raised, just inside the door. His eyes were a pale blue and they scraped over Peter’s form quickly before he held out his hand. “Phone, watch, bag. Give me anything that Stark might have chipped and don’t try anything funny. I’d hate for anything… untoward to happen to your Aunt.”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, slowly pulling his bag off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor with a thump. One of the men behind him picked it up and started riffling through it as Peter unlatched his watch and passed it over along with his phone. He was grateful that he hadn’t brought his suit with him to school today or he’d have a much bigger problem – assuming they didn’t already know he was Spider-Man of course.

“Search him,” the man called out as he dropped Peter’s phone and watch to the floor before pointedly stomping on them until they broke. Peter fought to hold still as he was patted down, making eye contact with May. She gave a minute shake of her head and Peter bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. He knew she didn’t want him to compromise his identity for her but he would do whatever he could to keep her safe – Spider-Man be damned.

“He’s clean,” one of the goons called out, nudging Peter forward and forcing him to sit down opposite May.

“Peter Parker,” the leader mused, walking over until he took up all of Peter’s sight leaving May out of view and ratcheting Peter’s already frantic heart rate up more. “Tony Stark’s personal intern. How does one get that job eh?” He looked at Peter expectantly and Peter grit his teeth together.

“Right place right time,” Peter grunted, his eye contact never wavering. The leader frowned behind his mask and smacked Peter sharply, causing his head to whip to the side. It was more surprising than painful and Peter glared back in obvious loathing.

“That will be your only warning,” the leader grunted, leaning down so he was eye level with Peter. “Next time it’ll be your aunt. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Peter confirmed, gripping the arms of his chair tightly and trying to control his strength. By his count there were five men in their apartment. If he were alone or in the suit it wouldn’t be a problem but with May involved…

“Now let’s try again,” the man continued, pacing a circle around Peter’s chair like a shark circling prey and thus giving him the briefest chance to make eye contact with May again. The skin of her forehead was red and dented where the gun mashed into her face. But he eyes were full of fear and anger for Peter – her sight was locked on the cheek he could feel burning and already swelling. “How did you get your internship?”

“September Foundation,” Peter answered. “I submitted some of my work on clean energy and Mr. Stark was impressed enough to offer me the internship.”

The man hummed, stopping his circling and placed both hands on Peter’s shoulders, squeezing them. “But it’s not just an internship anymore now is it?” He questioned, tone light. “I doubt any normal intern gets access to Stark’s personal lab or stays overnight. For a while I thought you might be his bastard but, no, it doesn’t seem you are.” Peter tensed at the words and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, tasting blood. “However you are important enough for him to pay handsomely for I’d wager.”

“He won’t,” Peter insisted, not breaking eye contact with May – she looked terrified now and he wasn’t sure who she was scared for most. “He doesn’t negotiate with kidnappers.”

“We’ll see,” the man said lightly, unconcerned. “Here’s the deal Parker. You’re going to come with us, quietly, and I won’t put a bullet through your aunt’s skull. I hear that you watched your uncle bleed out from something similar – wouldn’t want another death on your conscience now would you?” Peter flinched violently, unable to hold it back and felt tears prick at his eyes. He couldn’t cry now. Not in front of these assholes. “You’re going to come with us and, once we get you back to base, I’ll call in the order to let your aunt go. If they don’t hear from me within the next six hours… well I’m sure you can figure it out.”

Peter nodded slowly and tried to silently apologize to May – she was watching him with tears now cascading down her cheeks and shaking her head, begging him not to give in. “I’ll do whatever you want,” Peter agreed, sealing his fate.

His Spidey-sense screamed at him and he forced himself to hold still as the gun clocked him across the temple, knocking him out instantly.

—————————————

When Peter finally woke up some indeterminate amount of time later it was to a throbbing head and aching neck from sitting slumped over and tied to the most uncomfortable chair he had ever had the displeasure of sitting in. He opened his eyes with a groan to look around the room. It was darkened, of course because why wouldn’t it be, and empty, also not a surprise. The door in front of him was made of a dark metal the same as the chair he was sitting in which was bolted to the floor.

He tested the cuffs that were binding his wrists to each arm of the chair and found that they weren’t reinforced and should break easily with his strength. So they didn’t know he was Spider-Man then – that was a plus. Peter could work with that.

Before he could look around much more or even try to formulate a plan, the door in front of him flew open to admit multiple people, all in masks, and a camera set up that had Peter’s blood running cold.

“I have to thank you for your cooperation,” the man from earlier said gaily as he entered the room last. “You made this much easier than anticipated.”

“My aunt?” Peter asked, voice wobbling a little but his eye contact unwavering.

“Fine. As we agreed,” the man confirmed, kneeling down a little to look directly into Peter’s eyes. “Now we’re going to make Stark a little video, a one-sided video chat if you will, to ask him for a little… monetary gift. All you have to do is sit here and look pretty while we do all the work okay?” He said condescendingly, running a hand through Peter’s hair before patting his cheek mockingly.

It took all of Peter’s willpower not to head butt him directly in the nose.

The set up was done fairly quickly, the camera pointed directly at Peter and the red light blinking. His captor came to stand right behind him, hands resting on Peter’s shoulders again.

“Oh looks like he’s tuned it! Hello Stark, I think I found something that belongs to you,” the leader said, squeezing Peter’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t just leave your things lying around you know. Don’t want them to get displaced.” Peter grit his teeth in irritation and humiliation – he couldn’t believe he had let himself get kidnapped – that he had put Mr. Stark in this position! “Anyway,” he continued lightly, “I have a little request. A trade if you will. I’ll give you back your intern and you give me twenty million dollars and a clean way out of the country. Shouldn’t be too hard for you right?”

Don’t do it Peter tapped out on the arm of the chair in hasty Morse code. Don’t give them anything. I’ve got this Peter tried to say with his eyes. Trust me.

“And just to show you we mean business…” Peter flinched when his index finger was grabbed and sharply snapped in half, leaving him breathless. He didn’t scream though. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. “Tough kid,” the leader mused, petting Peter on the head. “I’m going to let my men work him over,” he said to the camera lightly. “You pay me within the next four hours and I won’t start cutting off things he’ll miss. Sure would be a shame… he’s got his whole life ahead of him you know.”

Later, his jaw hanging loose and his body aching with breaks and bruises, Peter will let a single tear fall.

The door knob turns and his adrenaline spikes.

[starlit-scarlet]

Chapter 35

Risks Don't Always Work Out-Part 2

Word Count: ~11.6k

Please read my note regarding this fic here.

Starved Menu

He didn’t want to tear his eyes from her for a second, but he didn’t have a choice. He needed to get his squad and get moving as soon as possible.

The less time she was alone, out there in the dark, the better.

Levi spun from where Isa was riding off on Luna, stalking off in search of his squad, furious at Hange, frustrated with Isa, fearful for Isa, but he didn’t let any of it show. One narrow-eyed glare from him had the nosy, stunned Scouts scrambling to look like they were busy doing something else, hoping it hadn’t been obvious that they’d been listening in.

To be fair, they would have heard whether or not they’d been trying to.

He understood why she’d needed to go. He would have done the same for her, for Furlan, for Isabel.

What he didn’t understand was why she couldn’t wait five fucking minutes for him to get his squad so she wouldn’t be alone. He’d been tempted to just go with her immediately, but he knew he needed to bring back-up, just in case. Anything could happen outside the walls, and the more people together, the better.

Dammit Isa. Why couldn’t you just wait?

He found his squad sitting around a fire, eyeing him warily, clearly sensing his mood was at an all-time low.

Despite the harsh flurry of emotions raging inside him, he worked to keep his voice was calm and authoritative, though his tone held undercurrents of worry, too many emotions fighting to break through. “Get your stuff. We’re heading out in two minutes. I’ll explain on the way.”

A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ filled the air as they scurried up, racing to their horses.

That was one of the things he appreciated about his squad members. No questions asked when they were told an explanation would be provided. They could understand when something was urgent.

They also most likely had heard the argument between him and Isa.

He honestly did not care if the whole branch heard them. All he cared about, in that moment, was getting her back safe, so he could hold her and remind himself that she was still alive.

He wanted to yell at her for putting herself in danger. For not thinking of herself.

For not waiting five fucking minutes.

He didn’t know if he’d be able to let himself do that. He knew how he could get. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. Ever.

He wanted to beg her to never scare him like this again, ever. The fear he’d felt when she’d been kidnapped by Uma was nothing compared to the terror surging through him at the thought of her alone while outside the walls.

His squad was ready in less than what he’d asked for, and he nudged Spartan into a gallop, Eld, Gunther, and Amelia close behind him. After he’d lost those three members of his squad, he’d been hesitant to add anyone new, but Amelia had proven herself a strong soldier, quick and agile with ODM, and he’d added her to his squad right before this expedition.

As they rode, he called back to them, explaining everything that had happened, needing them to understand the severity and uncertainty of the situation. He had no idea what they would come across, and he only hoped that there were no issues.

If his squad felt uneasy or concerned about the situation, they didn’t say anything.

Was it really only just this morning that we were lying in bed asleep?

~ - ~

He was drifting, as he usually was. Most of his sleep was never deep sleep, his mind always ready to wake in an emergency. Years of living in the Underground, having to sleep with one eye open, made it difficult to sleep.

The first thing he registered as he was slowly pulled from sleep was her smell. That sweet, feminine scent that was only ever around her, lingering in the room after she left, lingering on the bed where she slept.

One that he swore he could still smell even in places she hadn’t been, as if the memory followed him everywhere.

The next thing that registered was her hand resting right above his heart. No matter where she put her hand before she fell asleep, it always found its way back to that spot. That same damn warmth filling him as it always did, always centering from wherever she was touching him.

He could feel her head resting on his shoulder. The tingles in his arm didn’t bother him, it just meant he had someone to hold at night. Something he’d never expected to have. Something he’d never expected to want.

Yet here he was, a reformed criminal, holding this soft, sweet, beautiful woman as she slept, who, for some reason, wanted him as much as he wanted her. Something he’d long given up hope of having. Before their trip to the Underground, he’d long accepted that she would never be his, that they would always be simply friends. And he’d been happy to be that for her.

That day in the Underground, he’d been prepared to yell at her for wandering around alone. But when she’d hugged him, all his fear and anger had fled at the reminder that she was alive and safe. He’d understood why she’d left, but the thought of her being alone in that shithole was almost too much for him to handle. All the things that could have happened to her had played through his mind, knowing exactly the kind of scum that existed in the Underground.

She’d surprised him when she’d kissed him. It was rare for someone to surprise him, but she’d managed to. She was one of the few people who could catch him off guard. He’d been overwhelmed by her, the smell of her, the taste of her, nothing else registering, almost forgetting they were even in the Underground.

He’d been filled with a hope he’d only felt once before, that night of her birthday when she’d kissed him. Only this time, when he asked her why she’d done that, she’d asked him why he was asking a question he knew the answer to, and when his eyes had opened to meet hers, he’d been able to see the answering hope filling her face, shining in her eyes.

And he’d finally had his answer. He’d been unable to resist her, needed to taste again, to devour, to consume. To finally have what he’d wanted for so long, to be able to admit he wanted more with her, had filled him with an emotion he rarely felt, and only ever felt around her.

Joy.

When she’d told him she’d been afraid she’d disappoint him, she’d surprised him then too. She could never disappoint him, no matter what she did.

Despite how much he desired her, wanted her, he’d still refused to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for. He could still hear the way those disgusting pigs had talked to his mother those times there hadn’t been an empty room and he’d had to hide in the closet. How they’d treated her, forced her to do things she didn’t want to do simply because they were paying her.

He remembered times where she would try to talk her clients out of it, but she’d never been able to, and she couldn’t pass up the income. He could remember the times he’d woken up to his mother crying, distressed about what she had to do to survive. He’d done the only thing a child could think to do, which was to crawl into bed beside her, wrapping his short arms around her neck and just hold her.

Of all the things he could remember from his childhood, it had to be those things. She’d tried to hide it from him, but it had been hard in that tiny room of theirs. It was rare that she’d had to bring a client into their room, but sometimes, she’d had no choice, and he’d pretended he couldn’t hear anything, for her sake.

He remembered other things, happier times, but it was those dark moments that truly stuck with him.

So he’d been content with simply being able to hold her whenever he wanted, to sleep next to her, wake up next to her. It was already more than he’d ever expected to have. When a person expected nothing, never expected to want a relationship with someone, it made them cherish the smaller things more.

He enjoyed being around her, listening to her talk, the way she didn’t seem to need him to answer, yet he always found himself willing to talk more around her. Something about her made him more talkative.

Three sexual assault attempts by that pig, and he was surprised she even wanted to do anything. He wouldn’t have blamed her in the slightest. And it wouldn’t have changed how much he wanted to be with her in any way.

He hadn’t been lying to her when he’d said sex wasn’t all he wanted with her. He just wanted to be with her, however they decided what that meant.

He’d waited for her to make the decision of if and when she was ready to do anything more, leaving the choice in her hands. He was happy to do whatever she wanted, it was so easy to be patient with her. He’d been surprised at how soon she’d wanted to try, to push for more, and he’d been horrified when he’d touched her and it had brought back the memory of what that swine, that filth had done to her.

He hadn’t known what to do to help her, but he’d needed to do something to calm her, so he’d suggested the first thing that had come to mind, which was for her to tell him what she wanted him to do.

The look on her face had told him the idea of doing that was terrifying for her, and he hated that it had to be that way. He could tell how difficult it was for her to even take that first step, and he knew it was unfair for her to have to constantly tell him what she wanted, but he’d known she’d be able to push through. He’d seen her strength time and time again.

After that first hurdle they’d had to jump over with her nerves, when she’d practically bolted from his office, clearly stunned at how strongly she’d reacted, at what she’d wanted to do, she’d surprised him with how insatiable she was, how eager she was to try, to learn, to discover what she liked, what he liked, what they both liked.

He still had the scratches on his back that proved just how eager and insatiable she was, not that he minded. Something had told him that she wouldn’t be so timid and shy in bed, but he hadn’t been expecting the teasing little vixen she was.

He hadn’t known how much he would enjoy teasing her, denying her, the way she’d teased and denied him, which, he was surprised how much he’d enjoyed that. Despite the frustration, he’d enjoyed seeing that side of her, that teasing, sultry side of her.

Never would he have expected it to be so arousing to hear her call him ‘Captain’ in that voice of hers. The one that had him imagining taking her in all kinds of ways.

He hadn’t known he could ever want a woman as much as he wanted her, but want her he did, and now that he’d had her, even though it had only been a week, he couldn’t get enough of her, and only hoped she felt the same. He knew no other woman would ever satisfy him, he knew he’d never want another woman the way he wanted her, he would never feel this way about another woman, whatever it was that he felt for her. No one else would ever be able to compare to her, drive him insane with the chaotic tangle of emotions constantly buzzing inside of him.

Wanting to see her, he let his eyes slowly open, and he couldn’t stop the smile that filled his face at the sight of her, fast asleep next to him. She looked so young, so delicate when she slept, yet he’d seen her strength, he’d seen it before she herself had even begun to realize how much of it she had. The contrast was intriguing.

Her brows were knit, and it made him want to kiss the spot between them, to see if he could smooth it. Her other hand was resting beside her head, curled up in a little fist. Whenever she held his hand, he was always surprised at how much smaller it was than his, though he could feel the strength in them, knew she was more than capable of anything.

He’d seen how capable her hands could be when she fought Uma, fought Derek, anytime she was outside the walls, and when she ruthlessly teased him, denied him. He’d imagined what it would be like to have her hands on him, had brought himself his own release at the thought of her hands on him, her mouth on him, to take her in all kinds of ways, but the reality of those soft hands on him, the reality of having her, was more than he could have ever expected.

He only hoped she felt the same.

He was relieved to see that she slept soundly, no signs of a nightmare. Those times where she’d screamed out in her sleep left him shaken, and he’d always been at a loss of what to do to comfort. That first one she’d had, where she’d screamed ‘don’t do this,’ had been the most horrifying thing he’d ever heard come from her mouth, despite knowing she’d still been stuck in her nightmare. After that one, he’d refrained from touching her until she asked him to, never wanting to hear those words come from her directed to him—even if she hadn’t known it was him—ever again.

He didn’t want to wake her, she looked so peaceful, but they would be leaving soon, and there was still much to do to prepare. He felt his own nerves at the upcoming expedition. Now that he was finally with her, he feared she would be taken from him, and that he would be forced to live with one regret for the rest of his life.

That he’d never made a move sooner, the way he’d wanted to, time after time, but hadn’t been certain it was what she wanted.

He brushed his lips across her forehead, her cheeks, and she shifted closer at the light touches, a sweet, content sigh falling from her. His hand came up to rest on the side of her face, thumb lightly brushing across the delicate skin. His eyes filled with amusement at the way she pouted as he pulled he from sleep.

“Come on, Isa, it’s time to wake up,” he whispered to her, lips brushing against her ear. It was always intriguing the way she shivered when he did this.

“I don’t want to.” Her sleepy voice was full of defiance. He’d never seen her unwilling to wake up. It reminded him of Isabel.

“Why?”

Her lips pouted even more, her full, lower lip sticking out, and it made him want to lean in and nibble at it. “Because the sooner I wake up, the sooner we have to leave.”

“True, but the sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll be back.”

She groaned. “You make a good point, oh wise one.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle. Something about her, being around her made him smile more, laugh more, made him softer, more affectionate. He didn’t mind at all if it meant seeing her smile, laugh, seeing the way her eyes would warm.

He flicked at her forehead, unsure what it was that made him do this, but always enjoying her reaction. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

He watched as those lips of hers quirked up in amusement. “Always so damn modest.”

Long used to the routine, but never growing tired of it, he gave her the response he knew would make her laugh. “Always a pain in the ass.”

She giggled. “Better than being a grouchy ass.”

He watched as she sighed and slowly opened her eyes. Amusement filled him at the way the defiance and her teasing side left her, replaced by a shy smile that filled her face, her lip caught between her teeth in that way that always made him want to lean in and taste.

“Hi,” she whispered.

He wasn’t sure what it was that made her more bashful in the mornings, but it was amusing in the most endearing way. And then those shy greetings she’d give him when she did something new, something she wasn’t used to, were always so amusing, when he knew how she could be when she was full of confidence, when her teasing side took over.

He loved every side of her he’d seen, and always looked forward to seeing other sides of her as he unlocked them, the sides of her only he got to see.

“Hi.” His voice was warm. Sometimes it surprised him how warm and affectionate his voice sounded with her.  He hadn’t known he possessed the ability to sound this way. His voice only took this tone around her. He’d never even sounded this way around Furlan and Isabel.

Another sigh escaped her, full of reluctance. “I guess we should probably get up and get ready.”

“You would guess right.”

His heart stuttered at the way her face lit up in amusement. He couldn’t believe she actually thought she was plain, she was the furthest thing from plain, not even close. It made him want to seek out those assholes who had fed that thought to her for years.

Her eyes held him captive the way they always did, the early morning sunlight casting a gentle glow around her as it filtered in through the window, her hair wild and free from sleep. He wished he knew how to give her those soft words that he felt, the ones she deserved, but he didn’t know how. He’d never had those thoughts before, had only ever felt them around her. Whenever he tried, they only got caught in his throat.

When she brushed her lips across his cheek, he could do nothing to stop the tingles, the way his skin burned at the sweet touch. Such an odd feeling.

He only hoped she felt the same.

He watched as she rose and stretched, and he wanted nothing more than to drag her back underneath him and explore every inch of her. The way she reacted to the simplest of touches was exhilarating, arousing, relieving to know it wasn’t just him. All those soft touches, soft brushes of her lips on his cheek from before had always left him wanting more, still did.

When she walked over to the chair to grab her pants, he couldn’t resist. He rose from the bed himself, moving behind her so he could wrap his arms around her waist. He grazed his lips across the nape of her neck, relishing in the shiver he felt run through her, before resting his head against her shoulder. Sometimes he just couldn’t resist the urge to hold her, to remind himself that she wanted this as much as he did.

She turned her head to smile at him over her shoulder. “Meet with me later tonight, while I’m on watch.”

He didn’t want to let her go, but he knew he had to. He pressed his lips against her temple. “I’ll bring the tea.”

~ - ~

As he rode, his squad close behind, his mind cruelly moved from the happier memory and reminded him of what had happened the last time he’d left those he cared for alone outside the walls. The memory of Furlan’s mangled corpse and Isabel’s severed head flashed vividly in front of him.

No, I won’t lose her. I refuse. I’m not going to lose someone else. I will catch up to her. I will keep her safe.

He didn’t like the clouds that kept passing over the moon, making the land around them darker than it already was. He knew Isa and Hange had a theory that titans were inactive at night, but they hadn’t been able to determine if it was true or not.

He’d rather not have to deal with titans at night. Though, he had no doubt he could handle him. For some reason, his body always somehow took over in times where danger was present. He just didn’t want her to have to deal with them. Titans were hard enough to deal with during the day, at night they would most likely be impossible to deal with.

He couldn’t help but keep going back to the memory of that morning, the way it always felt waking up to her, it just felt so right. He didn’t know how he’d ever slept alone.

He’d told her that first night that he wouldn’t always be able to sleep with her, and that had been true. But most nights, he found himself drawn to sleep next to her, to hold her. There was something comforting about holding her, making it easier for him to drift off to sleep.

Ever since her nightmares had started, he’d been driven to sleep with her more, to hold her with the hope that she’d be able to sleep without nightmares, wanting to do anything he could to keep her at peace, to keep away the horrible images her mind tried to shove her way.

That morning he’d woken up before her, as he usually did. And like it had each time, his heart had clenched at the sight of her sleeping form, so peaceful, so warm, so right.

He still couldn’t believe that she wanted him, someone like her, so kind, so sweet. It shouldn’t feel so right, yet it did. Every morning he half expected to wake up and find that everything had been a dream, and they were only still just friends.

He still didn’t know what it was he felt for her. That old woman in the Underground had told him he was in love with her. But that just couldn’t be possible. He didn’t know what it meant to love, to be in love.

Someone like me just isn’t capable of feeling something like that…right?

He vaguely remembered the love he’d felt for his mother. Isa had said that he’d loved Furlan and Isabel. But what he felt for her was so different, something he’d never felt before.

Even if he did love her, he didn’t know how to love. He could barely tell her she was beautiful, hadn’t even really told her other than a pathetic ‘you are.’ Poetic words, the ones she deserved evaded him. He could never get them out of his mouth. Didn’t know how. Hell, he’d never even known he was capable of even thinking such thoughts until he’d become friends with her. All he’d been able to do was show her, or try his best to show her the things he wanted to tell her.

If I can’t even tell her she’s beautiful, how the hell would I tell her that…and that’s if I even feel that. I’m still doubtful that’s what this is. Doubtful that someone like me could feel something like that.

He could make out trees in the distance, knew he must be close.

Just hang on, Isa. Please.

The green flare had him breathing a sigh of relief. He knew immediately what she was trying to tell him, and he adjusted course in her direction, his squad following, needing to be with her, beside her, now, so he could keep her safe.

He had no doubts in her abilities, but right now, he needed to be there with her so he could make sure she stayed safe.

He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost her.

No, I’m not going to lose her. It’s. Not. Happening.

But as most things go outside the walls, the worst can happen at any time, when a person least expects it.

Not too long after he saw the green flare, a second flare fired.

When he saw the purple flare burst in the sky above the forest, his heart faltered, fists clenching impossibly tight on the reins, breath stuck in his throat. The blood was now roaring in his head, as he pushed Spartan for more speed, his squad following suit, no questions asked. None were needed after the emergency flare was fired, they understood the urgency even more so now.

No.

Not her.

Please. Not her, please.

I’m…I’m not ready. I…I still need her.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop needing her.

And in that moment, he knew.

~ - ~

As Isa made her way to the forest, begging Luna for as much speed as possible, memories of all her time with Hange flashed before her. The two had been through so much together. Had been friends since the first day of training.

Hange had been there for her, that day when those people from Mitras tried to force her to come back.

She’d told Levi about this, about how they’d found her, come after her.

What she hadn’t told him, what she’d been afraid to tell him, what she’d been too ashamed to say, was that she’d almost caved.

Back in Mitras, there had been times where she’d given in to their demands, their orders, their wishes.

She’d given in when it meant getting out of that damn room. After a week or more in that room, she was willing to do anything to get out, to get away from the dark, those tentacles of darkness making it difficult to breathe as they constricted themselves around her, suffocating her as she panicked, unable to regain control of her breaths until she passed out. There were times where she could still feel those tentacles squeezing around her, though it was rare.

She’d given in when it meant she’d get to eat. There were times where they’d withheld food from her for days until she did as she was told. She could still feel the phantom hunger pains, those pains that had come from not eating for days, and she’d felt so weak, so shaky, dizzy.

She’d given in when it meant they’d leave her alone, even if for just a few hours and she could get some peace. Those moments where she’d been able to read, escape into another world, or when she’d laid out on the ground and just watched the clouds go by, looking at all the shapes that passed by.

They’d wanted her to be something she wasn’t, something she didn’t want to be, had no interest in being. A perfect noblewoman. One who knew how to throw lavish dinner parties that threw out enough food to feed a small village.

One who knew how to lead a conversation about the nonsensical, frivolous happenings in Mitras.

One who knew that she was to speak only when spoken to when around men.

One who kept her opinions to herself, because men don’t want a woman who’s outspoken.

She’d tried to fight back, but there were times when she’d been weak, and caved.

She’d hated herself every single time she’d given in to what they wanted.

And she’d been so close to giving in again that day. If Hange hadn’t been there beside of her, supporting her, she would have.

Hange hadn’t even known anything about her past, and yet she’d still been there for her, held her after. She’d never asked questions.

~ - ~

It was about midway through their first year of training, the end of another hard day. She had just finished up ODM drills and was making her way to the mess hall with Hange.

She was listening to Hange share some new theory she had on titans. She honestly loved listening to her friend. The theories she came up with were always outlandish, yet, when she thought hard about it, they made so much sense.

An icy, bony hand grabbed her arm from behind, spinning her to face the owner, the memory of it wrapped around her neck filling her with fear.

The blood from her face drained, heart jumping to her throat when she saw who it was.

Martha’s scowl deepened at the sight of Isa, hair messy and sweaty from training, clothes dirty and wrinkled. “Enough of this nonsense, Isa. You’re coming back with us.”

Isa tried to pull away, could already feel herself beginning to cave. “N-no. I…I don’t want to.”

The grip on her arm tightened, and she had to fight back the urge to cry out, already knowing she’d have a bruise on her arm later.

Martha’s eyes turned cold, sending chills across Isa’s body. “It doesn’t matter what you want. You’re coming. Now. Either willingly or we will drag you back. Don’t make this worse than it already will be.”

Memories of that small, dark room filled her mind, knowing that if she didn’t come willingly, the punishment would only be worse. She could practically feel the tentacles of darkness wrapping themselves around her. So dark she couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face.

Hating herself for being weak, she caved, too terrified of what would happen if she didn’t. “O…ok.”

She turned and began walking back to the barracks to gather her things, fighting back tears, already dreading what would happen when she got back.

Hange called to her friend, following her as she walked. “Isa. Isa wait.”

There was a concerned tone in her voice, and if Isa had turned to her, she would have seen the fear in her friend’s eyes.

She ignored Hange, kept walking, tears filling her eyes at the thought of having to say good-bye to her, to Lucy, to Sherri.

She entered the barracks, walking over to her bed and began packing her things.

Refusing to relent, never one to give up, Hange grabbed Isa, gently turning her so that Isa could look at her, keeping her hands on her friend’s shoulders. “Isa, who are those people, and why are you going with them?”

Isa avoided eye contact with her friend, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “They’re the people who…took care of me growing up. They’re honestly horrible people, the worst I’ve ever known.”

Hange gently took Isa’s face in her hands, coaxing her friend to meet her gaze, and her heart broke for her friend when she saw the defeated, broken look in her eyes. “If they’re so horrible, then why the hell are you going with them?”

The tears in Isa’s eyes threatened to spill and she felt weaker than ever, no idea how to get them to just leave her be, to let her be free. “I…I don’t know.”

The need to protect filled Hange, determination coursing through her, brows knitting in irritation at those people. “I’m not letting you go with them, Isa. I don’t trust them. You don’t have to tell me what happened in Mitras. You don’t have to tell me anything unless you’re ready. But I’ll be damned if I let my best friend go back with people she doesn’t want to be with.”

Isa’s eyes widened, hope filling her at Hange’s words. “I’m…I’m your best friend?”

A soft smile filled Hange’s face, the love she felt for her friend filling her. “Of course you are, Isa. And I’ll do whatever I need to do to make sure you stay.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, the only time she ever felt comfortable showing affection, she threw herself at Hange, wrapping her up in her arms. She’d been afraid that Hange didn’t consider her a best friend.

She had Lucy and Sherri, but Hange had been her first friend. The first person to act like she cared, the first person to treat her as if she mattered.

Something about the moment, about Hange’s admission was filling Isa with the slightest hint of something she’d never felt before.

She had something keeping her here. Her desire for freedom, and her best friend.

Something took over her, taking control, leading her actions.

She marched out of the barracks, back out to those people, refusing to go back with them, refusing to be put back in that hell again.

She glared up at the two of them. “I’m not going back.”

Martha raised an unimpressed brow at the show of defiance. “Isa, don’t be ridiculous.”

Isa’s arms crossed in front of her, chin lifting, hatred and disgust filling her eyes. “I’m not going back. You can’t make me. I can bring you both down. Leave now, never talk to me again, and I’ll keep your secrets."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Despite the denial, Isa could see the flash of fear in Martha’s eyes, and in his. “The things you’ve both done, the things you both do. I’ll spread them all around Mitras. You’d be finished. You’d never get over the shame. So leave me be, and your secrets stay safe with me.”

She could tell they knew she meant what she was saying, that she wouldn’t hesitate to make good on her threats. They knew that if they didn’t leave her be, that would be the end of their social standing in Mitras. And for the rich, their social status was all they had.

Martha turned to her husband. “Let’s go Charles. We’re finished here.”

With a final, disdainful glare shot towards Isa, the two left, and she could feel that feeling fade, leaving her with the reminders of all the things they used to tell her, all the things they had done to her. Tears were beginning to prick in her eyes, and she needed to get away before she burst into sobs in front of Hange.

She tried to walk away, but Hange was too fast, pulling her into a tight hug.

Hange stroked at Isa’s hair, never one to shy away from taking care of someone else. “It’s okay, Isa,” she murmured. “You can cry in front of me. It’s okay to break. I’m not going anywhere.”

She wasn’t used to affection, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Her own shaky arms came up of their own volition to wrap loosely around Hange, and it was as if a piece of her unlocked, one that had been hidden away for years, allowing her to clutch tightly at her friend as the tears streamed down her face.

That moment was Isa’s first taste of being comforted, of being shown affection since her parents had died.

~ - ~

She wiped a stray tear from her face that had trickled out of her eyes at the memory. She’d spent so long thinking she’d never be able to make any friends, and Hange had been the first to openly tell her that she considered Isa her best friend. She remembered that first day of training, when the two had sparred together, how Hange’s energy had been so contagious.

She hadn’t told Levi any of this, how she’d almost given in, because she’d been embarrassed, ashamed at how close she’d been to willingly going back with them.

She wasn’t sure what it had been, why she’d felt the urge to comply. She’d been terrified of how long they would shove her in that dark room if she didn’t go with them, but it had also been something more that. Almost as if she had been conditioned over the years to listen, despite the battles, the arguments.

If it hadn’t been for Hange, Isa would not be where she was now. She would never have finished training. She never would have joined the Scouts like she’d dreamed. She never would have met Levi.

She would be back in Mitras, alone and miserable, and would have probably lost all will to fight, finally giving in to what they wanted, sold off to some horrid nobleman like Derek who would treat her like dirt, wouldn’t care what she wanted. She would be living a life she’d never wanted.

So much of where she was now, was thanks to Hange, not just for being there for her, but for saving her, countless times.

Hange had been the one leading the group to rescue her when she was kidnapped by bandits during a wilderness training exercise.

~ - ~

They were midway through their second year of training, and the cadets had been split into groups for wilderness training.

Isa was in one of two groups tasked with a trek through the desert. Each group would follow a path, meeting the other halfway, providing information to the other group on what they would come across.

She’d been relieved when Hange, Lucy, and Sherri were placed in her group. Derek was there, and without her friends, she wasn’t sure what she would have done. She always got this uneasy feeling from him, would catch this odd glint in his eyes that always set her on edge.

She didn’t like the way he watched her, the way he looked at her. But sometimes, it felt as if she were imagining things. She didn’t know why she felt as if there were something off about him.

For the training, she had been tasked as the record keeper, writing down what they came across as they moved, everything each cadet did, their reactions, what they said, what they did, everything.

“Hange, I’m so hungry.” Lucy’s voice came out as a whine, never having been one to enjoy going long without food.

Hange’s eyes filled with amusement at her friend, at the almost childish complaint. It hadn’t even been that long since they’d last eaten. Lucy was just always hungry. “We all are Lucy. I’m sure we’ll be there soon.”

It took almost the whole day to get to the forest that neared the midway point, where they set up camp for the night, building a fire to keep themselves warm, passing around ration bars.

As they sat and ate, a group of bandits surrounded them, kidnapped Isa and stole the cadets’ gear. They were helpless to defend themselves without their gear. Besides, the group felt as if they were no match against the thieves attacking them.

She could see the fear in her friends’ faces as she was taken away, but as she looked at Hange, a fierce look of determination she had yet to see from her friend filled her face, fists clenching in anger at the attackers.

That look gave her hope. She would trust in her friend to get her back, and she would try to help, though, she wasn’t sure how much she would be able to help.

They stuck her in the back of a wagon with one of the other bandits to watch over her, make sure she didn’t get into trouble.

He got up close, and she could smell his breath, the stench of stale cigars and whatever he’d had for lunch had her fighting back the urge to vomit.

He let the blade of his knife rest flat against her cheek. “Well aren’t you a pretty little thing? We know some people who’ll pay for a nice time with you. Then again, if you’re nice to us, we may just keep you.”

She thought to herself, ‘Why is it that I’m only ever called pretty by creepy, old men? That doesn’t exactly help my confidence.’

She forced words out of her mouth, though they wavered with nerves and fear. “N-not even in your d-dreams, asshole.”

He laughed, dragging the knife’s spine against her face. “Is that supposed to intimidate me? I could cut up that pretty little face, and no one would ever want you, and you’d be left with only us, and we’d put you to good use.”

That set her spine straight, her eyes flashing, chin lifting in defiance at the crude suggestions. “Not even if you were the last man in this world.”

His face twisted at her words. “Bitch.” He slammed the butt of his knife against her temple, and her world went black.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she felt someone gently shaking her. She groaned, the throbbing in her temple was almost too much to bear, and she was tempted to let the dark pull her back on.

“Come on, Isa,” a familiar voice called to her, “all the way. Open your eyes for me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she met Hange’s worried gaze.

Another pained groan escaped her as she sat up, rubbing at her pounding head. “What the hell happened?”

Hange’s arm came around Isa, supporting her as she sat. “After you were kidnapped, we came up with a plan, and managed to take out the wheels of the wagon. We had gotten gear from the other group, and managed to overpower these idiots.”

Isa’s eyes widened at the risks the group had taken for her. “I...I can’t believe you all risked your lives to save me.”

Hange drew her friend in close, relieved that her plan had worked. “Well we weren’t about to abandon either of you, Isa. You know I’d never abandon you.”

Overwhelmed with love for her best friend but unable to say it, she wrapped her arms around her best friend, Lucy and Sherri joining in.

Tears filled Isa’s eyes at the thought that she had three friends who actually cared for her. She’d never thought she’d be able to make friends, and yet, here she was. These three had accepted her as she was, didn’t mind that she wasn’t always the most open, didn’t mind that she had trust issues. With their help, she was slowly learning how to trust, how to have faith in others.

“You guys are the best,” she said, voice thick as she struggled to speak through the lump in her throat. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

~ - ~

There were times where she still struggled to believe that her friends had risked their lives to save her. She would have done it for them without hesitation, would still do it, obviously. At the time, it had been mind boggling to think that she had people who cared about her enough to actually do something like that.

Walls how I miss Lucy and Sherri. I wish they were still here.

She’d often wondered if the thieves attacking the group had been part of the training, but she’d never had the chance to ask the instructor. She didn’t think she would have gotten an answer, even if she had asked.

How many times has Hange been there for me, each and every day, during training, both as cadets, and as Scouts, even at night when we all shared a room?

Yet, I couldn’t even be bothered to be there for her after our failed meeting with Erwin.

Is this my fault?

She knew she’d woken Hange on multiple occasions with her nightmares all throughout training, and after they’d joined the Scouts as well. Each morning when she woke up with Hange beside of her, she’d known that she’d had a nightmare the night before, and Hange had come up to her bunk to comfort her.

~ - ~

It was nearing the end of her first year of training, and she was slowly awakening. Her eyes fluttered open, the early morning sun filtering through the window pulling her from sleep.

She took in the sleeping form of Hange beside her, and she knew immediately that she’d had a nightmare the night before. Guilt filled her at the thought, hating that she’d interrupted her friend’s sleep.

She gently poked at her friend’s shoulder, and she watched as Hange’s eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep.

For some reason, the mornings following one of her nightmares was when Hange was easiest to wake. It was always a struggle to pull Hange from sleep, and Isa had started resorting to dumping a bucket of water on her friend, yet, mornings such as these, Isa had no trouble at all in waking her.

A guilty look crossed her face. “I had another nightmare didn’t I?”

A yawn escaped Hange as she nodded. “You did.”

Her frown deepened, hating that she’d inconvenienced her best friend. “I’m sorry it woke you.”

An amused look came across Hange’s face as she laid a comforting hand on Isa’s shoulder. “Isa, you don’t have to apologize every time this happens.” She squeezed Isa’s shoulder affectionately. “I don’t mind coming up here if you need me. I know you’d the same for me. You’re my best friend, and best friends are there for each other, always.”

Isa’s lips curled into a soft smile, not knowing what she’d done to deserve a friend like Hange. “Thanks, Hange. You always know what to do to make me feel better.”

A sly look came into Hange’s eyes, knowing exactly how her friend would react to her next words, needing to wipe away that guilt that she could still see in Isa’s eyes. She didn’t understand why Isa thought it was inconveniencing for her to comfort her. Friends supported each other, no matter what. She could tell that Isa most likely hadn’t had the best experiences with friends, though she still knew fairly little about her past.

Her voice held a teasing note as she spoke. “Besides, we need you well rested if we have any hopes of you making the top ten.”

Isa scoffed, having no desire in making the top ten. “You know I could care less about making the top ten. I have no interest in joining the Military Police. I just want to do the best I can to make sure I’m prepared for whenever we join the Scouts.”

Relief filled Hange when she saw the guilt get pushed away by Isa’s detest for the Military Police. “I know, but I also know you have a shot at making the top ten. I know you don’t see it, but you’re really good, Isa. I know you’ll make it, even if you aren’t trying.”

~ - ~

Isa knew, without a doubt, that Hange had crawled into bed with her each and every time she’d had a nightmare. And she’d always woken up feeling more refreshed than ever, almost as if Hange’s presence had been enough to help her sleep through the night.

Even after Lucy’s death, Hange had tried to support Isa, knowing how broken her friend was, despite her own pain and sorrow. Sherri had tried to drive a wedge between them, but it hadn’t been able to hold.

Hange had done her best to make time for Isa, and Isa knew Hange had hated leaving her best friend alone, torn with what she should do, torn between two friends, even if one had told her to stick with the other.

She’d always made it clear to Hange when she could that she understood, that she knew Hange didn’t want things to be this way. She just didn’t want Hange to have to choose, so Isa had made the choice for her.

~ - ~

It was about a week following the death of Lucy. Most nights she spent up on the roof. She missed Lucy, missed Sherri and Hange. She’d grown accustomed to having people who cared about her, to having friends, that she’d forgotten how lonely it felt to be completely alone.

She hated this feeling, it reminded her of all the things that had happened in Mitras, how she’d had no one, reminded her of that dark room.

It didn’t help that she kept seeing Lucy’s death play over and over in her mind, how she could have helped her, saved her friend, but she’d been too useless, too weak, too pathetic. She didn’t deserve any of their friendships. This was her punishment, she deserved this pain, she deserved to be alone. She didn’t deserve love or friendships.

If she’d been stronger, faster, Lucy would still be alive, and Sherri wouldn’t hate her.

It was all her fault.

Lost in thought, she didn’t her the light footsteps coming up behind her. She jumped when she felt an arm drape around her shoulders.

She turned her head and was surprised to see Hange sitting beside her. Ever since her argument with Sherri, Sherri had done her damnedest to keep Hange away from her.

Hange gently brushed away tears she hadn’t even known were falling. “I’m sorry, Isa.”

Her eyes welled further, and she tried to give her friend a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Hange.”

Hange’s own eyes watered, filling with guilt that her best friend was alone and suffering. She knew that Isa blamed herself for what had happened, even though it wasn’t her fault. She felt as if was failing Isa, her best friend, her sister. “But I do, you need me.”

She sniffled, trying to hold back the tears, but more were trickling through, which she quickly brushed away. “It’s okay, I don’t want you to have to choose between me and Sherri, so I’m making the choice for you. Sherri needs you more. She knew Lucy longer than me.”

Even she was having trouble believing the words. She needed Hange too, dammit. She just didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to make Hange feel any more guilty than she knew she already felt.

Hange pulled Isa into a fierce hug, and the dam broke.

Broken sobs fell from her, the sweet comfort Hange gave her breaking through her walls. “Hange, I don’t know what to do.”

Her own arms wrapped tight around her friend, clutching at her, needing a reminder that she wasn’t alone, even if it still felt like she was. “Sherri hates me now, and I don’t know how to get her back. It hurts.”

She was having trouble speaking through the heaving sobs, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into Hange’s shoulder. “I lost Lucy, and now I lost Sherri too. And I know you say it wasn’t my fault, but it feels like it was. I was right there, Hange. Right there. I was so close. I could have saved her, but I was too slow, too pathetic, too weak.”

Hange pulled back, taking Isa’s face in her hands, refusing to let Isa believe for even a second that she was any of those things. “Isa, stop.” Her eyes were more serious than Isa had ever seen. “You are not weak. You are not pathetic. These things happen, and we all knew what we were signing up for.”

A weak smile filled Isa’s tear-stained face. “I know, I just didn’t expect to lose someone in the first expedition.”

Hange could tell that Isa still didn’t believe what she said, and she didn’t know what to do to break through to her. “I know, Isa, I didn’t either. If you say you’re okay with me staying by Sherri, then that’s fine. But Isa, I’m here for you too. If you need me, you need to say something, tell me. I honestly don’t know how long I can take Sherri acting this way.”

She sniffled, feeling a little better with some time with her best friend. “I’ll try, Hange.”

Hange draped an arm over Isa’s shoulder, drawing her small friend, her sister, close against her side. “That’s all I can ask for, Isa. Just don’t forget, you’re my best friend, and I love you.”

She wanted to tell Hange she felt the same, but she always struggled to get the words out, yet, it was always as if Hange understood. Hange was the one person who seemed to understand her completely, even more than Lucy and Sherri had, understood that she struggled with emotions, with affection, with friendship.

She let herself move closer to her friend, resting her head on her shoulder, enjoying the time she had with her best friend, not knowing when she’d be able to see her again outside of training. “I won’t, Hange.”

~ - ~

When Hange had decided she’d had enough of Sherri’s behavior, Isa hadn’t been able to hold any resentment towards her friend, not when she’d been the one to tell her to stay with Sherri in the first place.

It had been a lonely time, one of the loneliest in her life. She had finally known what it was to have friends, and to have it taken from her, it had left feeling even more lonely than ever.

And then, after she’d forgiven Sherri, Hange had been livid, not understanding how Isa could forgive her so easily.

~ - ~

Isa could tell that Hange was not happy with what she’d just told her.

It was rare that Hange became irritated with her friend. She didn’t know if she could forgive Sherri after the things she’d said, the things she’d done. And Isa didn’t even know what Sherri had said behind her back.

Her arms were crossed in front of her as she glared at her best friend, still having trouble believing that Isa had forgiven Sherri. “Isa, did you forget how she treated you? How the hell did you just forgive her?”

She understood where Hange was coming from, she wasn’t sure what it said about her that she’d forgiven someone who had treated her so cruelly.

Her chin lifted in defiance. “You didn’t see her, Hange. I’ve never seen her so broken. Besides, I’ve lost too many people. Lucy, Furlan, Isabel. I’m not losing anyone else if I can help it.”

Hange’s brows furrowed. “I get that, Isa. But she treated you like shit. Dammit, she told you she would have preferred that you had died.”

The memory of that still stuck with her, the wound having cut deeper than anything she’d ever felt. “I know, and that still hurts. But I’m not going to let that ruin a friendship. She’s one of my best friends. I’m not going to lose all those years of friendship.”

Hange threw her arms up in exasperation. “She was willing to! She was willing to throw it all away!”

It was even more rare for Isa to feel frustration Hange, or more so, to show it. She was always afraid that she would say or do something to lose her friendship, but it was times like these that truly tried her patience. “I know Hange. I’m not saying she deserves to be forgiven, but dammit, it’s my choice whether or not I forgive her.”

That seemed to break through to Hange, eyes widening in realization. She blew out a breath, cheeks puffing out, her frustration leaving her as she did. “I…you’re right, Isa. It’s your choice. If you want to forgive her, I…I’ll support you. Just know, if she ever pulls this shit again, I’ll never forgive her, whether or not you do.”

She smiled, relieved that her fight with Hange was over. “And that would be your choice. You don’t have to like it, I just need you to understand it’s my choice.”

~ - ~

At some point, Hange had been able to forgive Sherri, though, not without warning her that this was her second chance, and if she fucked up, that was on her.

Isa’s eyes were welling at the memories of her best friend, at the way Hange had always supported her, lifted her up, tried to help her see herself the way Hange saw her.

She had to push back her fear, fight back the tears, needing to focus now more than ever, but she was unable to stop her thoughts as they raced through her mind.

‘I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You’re my best friend, and I think the world of you.’

Walls, what did I do to deserve a friend like Hange?

What kind of friend would I be if I left Hange out here alone, without even trying to find her?

Yes, it was idiotic of her to do this.

Yes, it’s idiotic of me to follow.

But I know she’d do the same for me, without hesitation.

We’re best friends, sisters, and we’ll always be there for each other, no matter what

It was horrifying, riding outside the walls in the dark. The moonlight provided some light, but it wasn’t much, and she could see wisps of clouds in the sky, and there were moments where the moonlight dimmed, and it was even harder to see. She hadn’t had the chance to grab a lantern, so she only hoped she didn’t lose the light.

She knew it had been a bad idea to go out alone. She knew Levi was probably furious with her for taking such an unneeded risk. Furious with her for not waiting.

She only hoped he could forgive her.

If she survived.

Don’t think like that, Isa. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to survive and you’re going to see him again.

Was it really just this morning that we were lying in bed asleep?

~ - ~

She was floating, drifting, and it would be so easy to fall back asleep. Gentle, featherlight touches grazed her forehead, her cheeks, pulling her further out of sleep. The first thing she registered was the warmth of his body pressed up against hers, and she couldn’t stop the content sigh, or the way she snuggled closer to him.

His arm was still around her, holding her close as he always did.

She felt his hand against her face, the sweet touch of his thumb across her cheek, and she could do nothing about the way her lips pouted, not ready to greet the day.

“Come on, Isa, it’s time to wake up.” His lips brushed across her ear as he whispered, sending a shiver down her spine.

“I don’t want to.” She just wanted to stay here, lying in bed with him. She wanted to pretend that titans didn’t exist, that they led normal lives, that they were a normal couple waking up for a normal day.

“Why?”

She could hear the amusement in his voice, and she knew it was because it was so out of character for her to refuse to wake up. She could practically see the half-smile on his face behind her closed eyelids.

She could feel her lips pouting further, and she felt ridiculous and childish at the act, but she could do nothing to stop it. “Because the sooner I wake up, the sooner we have to leave.”

“True, but the sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll be back.”

She groaned, hating when he made a good point like that, somehow always coming up with the best answers. “You make a good point oh wise one.”

His chuckle sent a soft warmth through her, reminding her that she was the only one who got to see this side of him, that no one else got to wake up next to him, got to be held by him. He wanted her, and only her, and the feeling was exhilarating.

She only hoped he never stopped.

She felt him flick her forehead, and amusement filled her. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

She couldn’t stop the way her lips twitched at his words, at the act. He was somehow always able to make her smile, no matter what her mood was. “Always so damn modest.”

“Always a pain in the ass.”

She giggled, loving the words, always knowing he never meant them, loving the affectionate tone that filled his voice whenever he said them. “Better than being a grouchy ass.”

Another sigh escaped her as her eyes fluttered open, and she couldn’t stop the way her smile morphed into a shy smile at the sight of his blue eyes, full of warmth and affection. She still wasn’t used to waking up next to him, not as a couple.

There were still so many parts of their relationship that had her heart fluttering, stomach full of butterflies, despite everything they’d already done, despite all the new things she fantasized about doing with him.

She didn’t know what it was, but soft moments like these, left her full of nerves and shyness. She still sometimes had trouble believing that he wanted her.

She’d spent so long telling herself this would never happen, that he would never want her this way, that she still half expected to wake up one morning, back in her bed, and to find that all of this had been a cruel dream.

“Hi,” she whispered.

Her face flushed at the amusement in his eyes, at his breathless chuckle. She appreciated that he didn’t seem to mind her shyness, her nerves, if anything, he seemed to enjoy the way she reacted to him.

“Hi.”

The warmth in his voice had butterflies flapping their wings in her stomach. She was so used to the way his voice sounded with her, and it always threw her off whenever she heard his voice when he talked to other people. It made what they had feel even more special, knowing that only she brought out this side of him.

“I guess we should probably get up and get ready.”

“You would guess right.”

More amusement filled her at the teasing tone in his voice, lighting up her face and eyes. She was trapped in his eyes, the warmth in them holding her locked in place, unable to break away. There was no way for her to know that her eyes always did the same to him.

She couldn’t help but admire how attractive he was, how handsome he was. The way his bangs flopped over onto his forehead, ruffled and messy from sleep. His eyes were still slightly sleepy, though full of warmth, affection, amusement. His lips, so soft, so perfect, the way they were curled in a smile that only she got to see, making it feel even more special, sending her heart fluttering at the sight.

She leaned up, brushing her lips across his cheek, before rising, stretching the sleep from her muscles, unaware of the way he was admiring the way the sun cast a gentle glow around her, unaware of how beautiful he always found her.

She strolled over to where her pants were folded once again. She’d taken to sleeping in his shirt and a pair of his boxers, loving the comfort doing so gave her on the nights where he wasn’t able to sleep beside her.

She couldn’t stop the affectionate smile that filled her face when she felt him wrap his arms around her waist, chest pressed up against her back. She shivered when he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, before letting his head rest on her shoulder.

She turned her head to smile at him, heart stuttering at the softness on his face, in his eyes. “Meet with me later tonight, while I’m on watch.”

Tingles washed across her skin when he brushed his lips against her temple. “I’ll bring the tea.”

~ - ~

As she rode, guilt was filling her. Guilt for not waiting at Levi, for being the cause of that fearful look on his face.

Guilt for not being there for Hange.

Should…should I have pushed harder? Maybe if I’d pushed her to talk, then she wouldn’t have felt the need to go off on her own.

Dammit, is this my fault?

I really don’t want to go down that path again, but this is starting to feel like it’s my fault.

I can’t think like that right now. I’ll deal with that thought later. Right now, I need to focus on finding Hange.

She fought back more tears as she pushed Luna for more speed, desperate to get to the forest, find Hange, and get back. Erwin had been right in that their theory had been just that, a theory. They had no way of knowing if titans were actually inactive or not.

Just because she hadn’t come across any titans, didn’t prove that theory. There were times where they didn’t come across titans during the day.

When she arrived at the forest, she leapt off Luna, needing to travel by air now.

She gave the mare a light stroke on her muzzle. “Stay close to me, I might need you.”

Luna nickered, as if saying she’d never leave Isa alone.

She was unsure of where to start, not sure which direction she should go, all she knew, was that she wouldn’t stop until she found Hange.

She zipped through the forest, searching the trees, the ground below, looking for any sign or hint that Hange had been nearby.

More memories flashed in front of her as she flew.

The way Hange had held her at Lucy’s grave.

The way Hange could talk about anything for hours and hours.

The way Hange had accepted her without question, without hesitation

The way Hange had never pushed her to talk about her past, waiting for Isa to come to her.

She had to fight back more tears as she flew, needing to stay completely focused, not wanting to miss Hange, or worse, a titan.

And that’s when she saw her.

Her heart stopped, breath stuck in her throat, when she saw Hange, her unmoving form on a branch in one of the trees.

“Hange!”

She landed on the branch where Hange lay, heart now slamming in her chest, hands shaking as she approached.

Her trembling hand reached out to her best friend’s neck, and a shuddering breath escaped her when she felt a heartbeat. She checked Hange’s body for injury, and when her hand brushed across the back of Hange’s head, she was horrified when her hand came back wet with blood. Hange had clearly injured her head somehow, though it seemed that was her only injury.

She had to let her head rest against Hange’s shoulder, needing to collect herself, needing to stay together until Hange was safe.

Your best friend needs you. She’s always there for you, it’s time for you to step up and be there for her.

She pulled Hange up, sheer adrenaline and determination giving her the added strength she needed, allowing her to bring them both back to the ground. There was no sign of Hange’s horse, but there wasn’t time to look for her. She needed to get back, now, before her luck ran out.

At Isa’s command, Luna got down on her knees, allowing Isa to drape Hange’s body across her back. She pulled some rope from her satchel, securing Hange to Luna, making sure she wouldn’t fall as they rode back.

She shot off a green flare in the direction of where she’d be going, that way if Levi was near, he’d know she was successful in finding Hange, and he could meet her on the way.

She needed him, now more than ever. Her confidence was wavering. Each passing moment was just another chance for a titan to appear out of nowhere. She felt more confident in her skills, in her abilities, but alone, outside the walls, in the dark was dangerous, and she was starting to feel the slightest hint of regret at not waiting for Levi. The only thing that kept her from fully regretting her decision, was her best friend’s unconscious form.

She hopped onto Luna, and nudged her into a gallop, eager to be back with the rest, eager to reunite with Levi. Luna raced out of the forest, sensing the urgency, knowing she needed to get Isa and Hange back to base, fast. They pulled further and further away from the forest, and Isa could only hope they would make it back without a problem.

But as most things go outside the walls, the worst happened.

She felt it first, and when she looked behind her, she saw a group of fast-moving titans coming out of the forest, closing in, faster than she’d ever seen.

Shit. Are all of them abnormals? How is that possible? Where the hell did they come from?

I…I can’t outrun them, these are too fast. They’re catching up.

How are they so fast?

She did what she had to do.

She pulled out a flare gun, firing off a purple flare before calling out to Luna. “Get Hange back to base. As fast as possible.”

She could tell Luna didn’t like the idea of leaving Isa alone, but she leapt off the mare, leaving her with no choice but to continue.

She stood, determination filling her as she drew fresh blades, watching as the titans in the distance came closer.

Come and get me assholes. I won’t let you bastards near her. I’ve lost too many people to titans.

I refuse to lose someone else.

Not if I can help it.

She knew it was an even worse idea to face off against titans without a horse, but she hadn’t had a choice. She couldn’t wait for the titans to get close without risking Hange. She had to trust and hope that Levi was nearby, that he’d seen her flares. She knew he wouldn’t have taken long to gather his squad.

Her hope and trust in him were fueling her confidence, her determination.

The titans drew closer, and she counted seven. Their smiling, blank faces had her skin crawling, worsened in the dark. Something about the darkness made their grins more sinister, more evil, eyes and teeth glinting in the moonlight, and she couldn’t help but wonder how many people these titans had consumed, both Scouts and citizens.

The sound of hooves registered in the distance, growing louder as they grew closer, and she aimed to fire her hook at the nearest titan. But when she clicked the button to activate, her heart sank when the worst thing that could happen to a Scout outside the walls, happened to her.

Her gear malfunctioned.

Starved Menu

<- Chapter 34

Chapter 36 ->

Taglist:

@angelofthorr

[enbies-and-felonies]

Here Comes the Sun (And I Say, it’s Alright)

The second part in the “Finding Home” series!! (pt one)

AO3 LINK

taglist, just ask to be added or removed: @barrel-of-cat-mituna @completekeefitztrash @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @lemontarto @hershis-kotlc @genesiscaveat @everything-else-and-mars @juline-dizznee @chaotic-basics @an-absolute-travesty @classyfunnyquotesmuffin7 @iamstealingyourgenderaswespeak @itstiger720 @introvertedscarecrow @sunset-telepath @an-idiot-in-a-trenchcoat @cowboypossume @anaccidentwaitingtohappen @sofia-not-sophie @fire-sapphics @dr-alan-grant @real-smooth @juline-dizznee

Warnings: some swearing

Summary: Keefe meets Sammy’s moms (they love him).

Keefe looked down at the small boy who walked beside him, gently swinging his hand back and forth and humming. Sammy was a cute boy with wavy, slightly wispy, light brown hair that reached below his ears and hung in his eyes, causing him to pause every so often in order to brush it away before returning to whatever he had been doing before. He had freckles covering his face and spreading lightly over his neck, and he was missing one of his front teeth. Keefe smiled; Sammy also had the tendency to walk with little hops, or to skip and gallop. It was kind of endearing.

"Mr. Keefe?" The young boy abruptly stopped and peered up at Keefe, swiping at his hair with a thoughtful expression that seemed the wrong fit for his round face. Keefe was struck all at once by the vividness of green in his eyes.

"Yeah kiddo?" How did people normally refer to kids??

"You don't need to worry. My moms- my moms are nice and- and- and you know I'm pretty sure they will love you. I love you Mr. Keefe, and my moms will love you. You fixed my knee!" Apparent mission accomplished, Sammy turned away and started off, humming again under his breath.

Keefe's throat got thick, but he just smiled and nodded, too overcome by the pure emotions rolling off of Sammy to answer. How could one person hold so much hope and joy?? How could this kid, after knowing him for barely seven minutes, already feel such overwhelming love and fondness for him?

It knocked the air out of his chest.

"Alright, sure Sammy." His voice was tight with emotion, but he smiled anyways. The kid was alright.

"Hello, my name's Keefe." He flashed his most charming smile and tried to ignore the thumping of his heart. it's FINE, he just looks like he kidnapped their kid. Again, FINE-

"Hello Keefe! I see you've met Sammy; Thanks for finding us." The taller of the two women in front of him gave a teasing smile at Sammy, "Mischief maker." He giggled up at her and she scrunched her nose back.

She had light brown skin and her curly umber hair, which was the length of her chin, was pulled half-up into a ponytail. Her eyes were smiling when she turned them back to Keefe, and although his heart was stilling going faster than a rabbit's, he smiled cheekily back.

"I'm Maren Sauveterre, but if you even think of calling me Mrs. I'll set Sammy on you, y'hear?" Her stern words were offset by the crows-feet at the corners of her eyes and the lilting laugh that escaped. "Anyway, this is my wife, Aden."

Keefe glanced over at the muscular red-haired woman beside Maren. Despite being shorter than Maren, which actually wasn't saying much since Maren seemed to tower over everything, Aden was an imposing figure and Keefe had to remind himself to steady his breathing. At least Maren didn't seem to have a problem with his accidental kidnapping of their kid, and if worst came to worst she would probably stop her wife from beating him up.

Aden raised an eyebrow and grinned, putting her hand out for him to shake. He could do that, shaking hands was normal, it was a normal thing and he wasn't an elf and if he didn't impress her she wasn't going to kill him-

Taking her hand with what might be a tighter grip than necessary -hadn't he always been told a firm handshake was a good first impression?- Keefe gave a quick nod. Her feelings were a strong barrage of confidence, amusement, affection at Maren and Sammy.

"Good grip, son." And then Aden was smiling and turning to Maren; "You'll have to be careful with this one, Love, he's got spirit."

Keefe felt slightly relieved when he looked her over again and realized she was someone who would likely return his banter, and let an easy smirk pull at his lips.

"Yes ma'am." He responded with a small wink, and Aden burst into laughter.

He was about to say something again when Sammy tugged at the corner of her shirt and whispered up at her "Mom, mom I gotta tell you something." 

Aden quickly knelt down and tipped her head so Sammy could whisper into it, "What's up button?"

Meanwhile Maren seemed to be studying Keefe, whose heart had begun racing again. What had happened to the numbness from before?

"When was the last time you ate, or had a place to shower?" Her eyes were calculating, but not unkind, and Keefe felt his cheeks flush. He must smell worse than those selkie skins he'd once had to clean Fintan's capes with.

"I think I ate dinner last night, and the last time I showered... was longer than I care to remember." He was lying, and his heart skipped three beats. He'd had a small lunch... three days ago. Oh. That wasn't good.

"Well," Aden straightened up and crossed her arms (if Keefe hadn't already pegged her as a kindred sarcastic soul, his anxiety would have spiked again), "Sammy says you healed his knee, so I guess you're coming to our place for dinner."

"I-" What. What the fuck was the protocol for that??? Keefe did NOT have the emotional stability for- "Sure." The smirk convinced them, even if it didn't reassure him at all.

On the way to their house, Keefe learned a few things. First, that Maren might be tall as hell, and Aden muscular and *intimidating* in a way that almost made Keefe second guess his initial 'smart-ass who enjoys banter' assumption about her, but they were both kind and welcoming in a way that burned his throat.

Aden swung Sammy up onto her shoulders and called Maren 'Love' and teased them both with a fond smile just hiding on her lips, and Maren rolled her eyes and tried to tickle her side before breaking out into her bell-like laughter. Maren wore a strawberry shirt and light jean overalls that reached her mid-thighs. On her ears were strawberry earrings, and Keefe got the feeling that that was kind of her vibe. He liked it. 

Aden had her flaming red hair in a set of ornate braids twisted up to lay against the nape of her neck, side bangs hanging on either side of her face. Her outfit was a simple pair of black jean shorts, a grey tank-top, and a deep red flannel (that's what he remembered Sophie calling it at least, and he didn't dwell on it because the thought kind of stung) tied around her waist. Keefe approved of both their outfits; must be the gay.

(Another sentence Sophie had said. He really needed to stop thinking about his friends.)

It was... nice, to walk with them and not feel like there were these expectations that he had to live up to. Aden and Maren clearly adored each other, and Sammy, and they never for a moment made him feel like he was "other". Sammy rambled about bees -something about them not having lungs- and Aden complimented his knowledge while Maren smiled at the both of them, glancing at Keefe as if to say "See them? They're the loves of my life."

And Keefe could. He could see the way they fit together, the way they belonged, each, together. They fit together like families rarely did, in Keefe's opinion, and it made him ache. He had that with his friends, and now-

Now it was better not to think about it.

"C'mon Mister Keefe!!"

Keefe looked up ahead at where Sammy pulled at his Mom's hand, now back on solid ground, and smiled. Soft this time, no smirk to mask feelings he couldn't show. Sammy was already beginning to grow on him, and if Keefe wasn't careful he would let it happen. Let himself grow close to someone just to have them pulled away again, or worse, until he pushed them away, like he did everyone else.

But looking at the Sauveterre's, they way they loved their son, each other, the way they loved life-

Well, maybe this was the dawning of a new chapter in Keefe's life.

And maybe, just maybe, he would let it happen.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 18)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 17

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: The Djinn effects had reasons. A miracle for the Witcher but a threat for everyone in the Continent and this mystery had you placed under a curse that will give you bad fortune for you future and a child that he sorceress plans on ruining. 

Warnings: Mention of MCU. Iron man too. Blood. Witcher monster and sign. Curse words and degrading ones. Corporal punishment said and involved. 

Words: 8.4k+

A/N: Ghost readers, please do reblog my fic if you’re reading this so others can see it as well. Also people who are in my taglist, I hope you leave even just an emoji of feedback or reblog if you’re done reading. I appreciate the tiniest dot of comment ISTG. I’ve been in a writer’s block (and also mentally exhausted from writing too) but I’m trying my best to give y’all content or an update for WOTN. My mind has been jumping from one character over another so feedback will be nice to receive. Thank you and stay safe.

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! This is kinda a rough draft. I apologize for many errors, this has been a result of fast editing.

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. 

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

The Kaedwenians had the last laugh.

Jaskier couldn't keep you safe from anyone, not even a tiny fly. All he could do was be a distraction and be the special wingman for a witcher. But, when it's about protecting the ones he takes care of, Geralt has always been the answer to keep one safe---that he couldn't even take care of himself when he's caught in his shenanigans and monkey businesses.

His mutant friend could always be counted on, by hook or by crook.

Yet, he certainly will disappoint him when he knows what threat and problems happened after a day; only a darn day that he was away and kidnapping arose and hindered everything that the witcher wanted to avoid.

How did they know where his family even were?

Jaskier was limping alongside with Cirilla who has hauled him on her side, an arm slithering over his waist to drag him to where the dining chairs where. One out of ten? hence, this particular sunflower surrounded by a bunch of poison Ivy has been a bard all along.

Sunflowers don't have thorns nor poison. They were harmless. Soft. Bright. Just like him. But, the bees surely did its attack considering how he'd sliced two men on their necks. Nonetheless, it wasn't enough to keep you out of harm.

"Those bloody knights did a number on me!" he suddenly exclaimed out of nowhere; wincing and grumbling out profanities from his wounds as Cirilla went around to grab onto an empty pail, sprinting straight out to quickly come back with her bucket full of water for the bard.

Dried up blood designed his busted lip; plump and ruptured from the constant clouts he'd received. His lower lip were out in a pout, frowning his way from lightly tapping his wounds with a clean cloth; holding up a small mirror to his face. Disheveled doublet untied, the collar of his inner white tunic being a sketchpad of a kid who loved his red paint. Another nasty curse accidentally slipped out of his broken lip when Cirilla loudly dropped the bucket on the table with an obvious sight of panic, fright and anger written on her face.

Her thin, candle-like fingers slightly trembled from the handle and Jaskier had gotten a glimpse out of her fear, terrified for an important person in her life to be in the brink of death. Again. She didn't want it to happen especially when the princess has finally found comfort and light from you; like how her heart hoped to meet a woman who she could treat as her rightful mother.

She didn't want you to die; not like this, never. If only you could live long enough, longer than a normal human then it would be a part of her wishes.

"W-Will she be okay, Jaskier?"

Jaskier was hissing as he tried to take off his doublet. In his unfortunate case, he'd probably earned a fracture or two over his ribs and arm. But, it was far from any organ that will give him demise. He'd thought about it again before deliberating on leaving it on to continue patting the blood off his face, "No. I swear to the death of Valdomarx that the rat will not be fine in their hands, Princess Cirilla."

The bard went on in jawing away over his thoughts with some painful complaining here and there as he tried to wipe the blood off his face with a heavy amount of strength used because of how his arms were sore and aching, "Ow-ow-ow! Geralt needs to give what they want. However, going to the south swamps will be the only solution to alert the witcher,"

Jaskier tutted in exasperation when his dampened cloth grazed through the wound, making him sigh and close his eyes to calm down. The child has done the same, copying his reaction before reaching out to grab onto the cloth and tried cleaning his wounds for herself. He bellyached away over how she's been cleaning the wrong places but a simple sharp, warning of her blue eyes kept the toubadour fidgeting from the child care.

"It's been how many hours already since she was taken?" he sounded incoherent from trying to talk with his mouth never closing as Cirilla tried to pat over the pillows of his lips. She made him repeat his question, moving away from him to dip the cloth inside the bucket and squeezing the excess water out.

When she'd heard him repeat it much clearer this time, she thought for a second before turning her heel to face him again, raising a finger to show him the time it took.

"An hour or two."

He weakly nodded more to himself. The accident was utterly fresh inside their minds and Jaskier couldn't help but worry as the clock ticks by because he knew and understood that the people in their world were more cruel and grating to be with than in your kingdom that you have lived in for years, the bard was anxiously bouncing his leg up and down with his thoughts and solutions going in places.

"We can't go to where Geralt is tomorrow," he noted as a matter of fact, pausing to glare at Cirilla who leaned close and started caring for his wounds with heavy hands, "---all we can ever hope for is wait for the gods plan. Hush now, princess."

In Cirilla's point of view, hearing his response drove her bananas. They just couldn't wait for Geralt to arrive when he'll be taking up three days before telling him what has happened. What if you were already being punished because of their false accusations about you? Geralt's child of surprise has heard everything. Even from the time that the troopers has been kicking up a fuss over the woman named Savia that looked entirely like you.

She'd even saw the fight between Kolby; seeing him run away so suddenly broke her heart as much as yours did. Will he ever come back? the princess thought at the back of her mind from overrating. Will you ever come back to their lives again or will Geralt be too late to save you from their dirty hands?

The lion cub of Cintra has pulled away from treating Jaskier's wounds, straightening her back when she began to let the negative thoughts go to her head.

"How about Kolby? I---I've seen him run away!"  

Jaskier grabbed the cloth out of her hands, trying to sanitize his wounds instead. He'd tightly blinked his eyes, the left side utterly benumbed from their sucker-punches and he knew a black eye would come forth soon whether he likes it or not. The bard wasn't even on an adventure with the witcher, yet why has there been an incident where he'd been belaboured till he was bleeding with a hobble.

"He'll come back, dearest Cirilla. We can only hope for the best and also for Geralt to do his witchering---the heightened senses, I mean. Do you think his hearing can reach from here?"

They've been surrounded by silence after that. It was already morning by the time that Cirilla has successfully helped the bard to his feet, earning minutes of pure inveighs against what they've done and why Geralt decided to leave earlier than they have arrived. Their house was left as it is and it seemed like the only job that they needed to do was hold you ransom for what they wanted from the witcher because they knew what was happening beyond the four corners of their house.

The Kaedwednians have acted like they knew you were important to their family; beneficial to be taken for hostage and a crucial person for Geralt that would make him cave in to their desires.

Hence, they probably were right when Jaskier and Cirilla has heard the fast, pitter-patters of a horse from a distance; riding towards the house in a canter. Geralt's family looked at each other with knowing faces before Cirilla's face fell from thinking about the pessimist side of her head.

"I--I hear galloping!" she exclaimed before Jaskier noted the pale look of her lips like she has been thrown a bucket of ice on her head, "---What if its them again?" her lips began to tremble this time with a high pitch tone that says she was nervous and scared because she wasn't ready yet.

"What if they're back to capture me this time?"

They have been living in a world that scares her and when the right time comes, Geralt promised to take her where she'll be trained better to become like him for when danger and chaos tries to make them stay, the princess will know how to defend herself from the risks and threats. But, the witcher would still protect her no matter what happens because it is his duty and also because she has already been an adopted daughter to him. A daughter that he cherishes despite acting cold and dispassionate about the idea.

You knew she was important to him, a daughter that he somehow cared for from the moment they met. Geralt has told you this in the middle of the night, trying to tell you stories as he slept, managing to ask him about Cirilla and how she was involved in his life. The witcher never did plan it along but their destiny has made it happen for them to meet. She was the girl in the woods that people have been telling him about and the law of surprise that he has given voice that had you in awe because their world consists of beliefs and preternatural principles that never existed on earth.

Jaskier felt like his whole body grow numb and forgotten what the pain that the cavaliers has inflicted upon him when he suddenly stood up, apprehensively grabbing onto Cirilla's shoulders and looking around to find her somewhere to hide.

The heavy set of footfall started to tread near, out of the threshold of their front entry. With a swollen face and bloody clothes, he grabbed onto her wrist and tried to pull her out of the kitchen and onto the back door of their house with a need to keep another person safe and away from danger. They've already taken you and Cirilla was out of bounds.

"No. No. That can't happen. They have no idea who you are. Run in the woods. Away from here, alright? Don't worry, I'll get to find you---Geralt will find you again, I promise you---has he taught you little tricks here and there? If not---"

The loud crash of a door opening has got Jaskier in full-protective mode; pulling along Cirilla to stand behind him with a hand outstretched open in front of him to tell this person to stop from their attacks. Until they've seen a person whom they were praying to the gods appear before them utterly shambolic to their shock.

"Geralt?! Oh dear, gods! What happened?!" Jaskier yelled out loud, their breaths hitching from the picture that stood before them.

Geralt's ruined armor was off; keeping the black under tunic on that has been torn with holes. The openings held blood under the apertures of his ravaged shirt. His face seeming to be the only one left untouched from the burns and wounds. His hair was dirty from soot and darkened, moist like sand but his breeches has been surprisingly free from the scratches that his upper clothing has received from.

Cirilla couldn't help but feel the warm, hazy moisture of her eyes fill her vision from seeing him stand in the middle of their hatch, the fish bones that stuck inside her chest finally breaking free from Geralt's appearance because hope has arrived for them.

"Geralt! You're here!"

The latter couldn't believe his eyes. They were safe. His family was safe from the show that the Kaedwenians tried to scurry them off with.

Relief washed through Geralt, his Aureate peepers widened from being stunned at seeing them both.

"Jaskier. Cirilla. You're both okay." he stated in a monotone manner, his gaze examining their forms when he'd realized Jaskier has been beaten to pulp.

The hold on his sword that rested on his palms tightened from seeing red. If there was blood involved, then something bad has happened especially when he'd lately realized that his family was missing one special person that came with the ménage he had.

You. There was no midget. Were you just hiding in a corner? Trying to be playful like the person you are? Where you hiding upstairs and planning to surprise him?

Jaskier paid heed to his sudden silence, the peeved look within his eyes that held a flicker of catastrophe because he couldn't see his midget with them.

He didn't know nor realize that seeing you gone like you never existed felt like an Nightwraith has tried to rip his heart open and eat it to their satiation.

Cirilla sprinted to where Geralt stood, immediately wrapping her arms around her step-father that she also holds dearly till the moment; she'd hug him, the embrace simply an allegation of fear, telling him that it was the right thing to come back earlier than they expected him to.

"I'm so glad you're here!"

The witcher wholeheartedly accepted the embrace, patting her head that was shoved to his chest despite of the wounds he has; just thoroughly relieved that she wasn't taken. His sword fell on the side with a loud thud as he'd look away from Jaskier, his eyes shifting from high and low, finding the Hirikka not in his place under the dining table as well.

"The midget? where is she?"

Howbeit, knowing the answer. He still wanted to hear what happened from the poor bard.

Jaskier subtly coughed, alerting that his tale was ready to be told. But, Cirilla has cut him off with her voice bawling out to Geralt, frowning against his chest as she loudly sniffed. The tears in her eyes dripping down as she couldn't help but keep the emotions balled up inside her chest anymore. Shock. Fear. Worry. Care. All together, it was brought and made with tears.

"Th-they've...they've taken her away from us! She saved my life for the second time, Geralt! You owe her everything!"

Geralt didn't answer at that and just patted her braided hair to soothe her worries---her braided hair that you have fixed before being taken. He was already too maddened on the inside to even hear that Jaskier began to start his story.

"So, do you want a simplified version or the dramatic one? I hear you choose the second option, so here it is!"

Cirilla sobbed against his chest when Jaskier started. His thoughts was filled with you. He was angry, irritated and dumbfounded that you've been offering your life in exchange for Cirilla to be safe. You always did. Hence, he didn't know if he was thankful of your selflessness or utterly vexed from how kind you were at heart.

"Fuck." he whispered to himself, Jaskier's voice going on and on in the background as if it was their music, his next words sounding exasperated as he simply sighed out of his nose and closed his eyes in frustration.

"---Midget..."

Jaskier was unaware that Geralt wasn't listening to his nonsense blabbers until he got straight to the point. He'd even told him how he rearranged and hid the bowls where you couldn't find it which made the witcher give him a simple raise of his brow.

Cirilla cut the hug when she was feeling dandy enough. Geralt gave her one final reassuring and affectionate pat on the head before grabbing on his fallen sword with a scowl on his face as he listened to Jaskier run his mouth.

"---So, I've been punched in the gut from different kind of Cavaliers. The Kingdom of Kaedwen can suck my arse---I've learned that from the rat by the way---and I've bled to the end of my second life. Hence now, this is my third---Hallelujah!---Kolby listens and follows every command but he's gone now and we don't know where he is---even tried to save me and her but the vampire is too strong---not that it isn't surprising,"

The simple action of grabbing onto his sword inflicted pain onto the fairly large wound on his lower rib which made him hiss. It was from the burning blood of the Bloedzuiger that he somehow managed to not shield himself with; forgetting to use Quen in the midst of battling.

"Tybalt." he understood completely, knowing exactly who tried and planned to get you from him for their use. They still haven't found the witch and needed to find her as soon as possible. Geralt wandered over the kitchen, closing the door behind him as he lowly grumbled to no one in particular.

"---They still want me to lift the curse. They want me to kill their monster,"

Their ears perk from the admission; watching the witcher peel his damaged under tunic off with an aggravated sigh as he stood in front of the dining table. He'd taken a lot more injuries than he most likely does; even had his energy spike to its lowest due to wanting to get the job done in less than half an hour. Hence, this resulted in accepting more wounds and detriments by rushing the whole task.

Geralt has already taken potions for him to heal on the way. Some of the smallest wounds has been healed. Though, the deepest wounds did not yet. It would certainly earn him a scar or two from it but he never cared.

"You're bleeding, Geralt. Where are you going?" Jaskier sauntered to his side with a wince from seeing more blood than what he normally sees, Cirilla also pulled a face and watched the witcher heavily sigh from examining his opened wounds. He deeply had a grimace on his face as he does when he tried to explain.

"It's from the Bloedzuiger's blood," he gruffly muttered, only answering the troubadour's first question.

His talkative friend circled around him to be met with the nastiest laceration that he has seen. Jaskier's nose scrunched in repugnance from what stood before him for the first time in years, "You've never taken enough damage like this before," he claimed as a matter of fact; in deep conjecture as to why he seemed to be in adrift prior to his hunt.

Geralt's attention was solely on the gash that could make him lowly groan in the back of his throat; rough and sounding uncomfortable from the pain it was giving.

"Jaskier, stay with Cirilla. Keep hidden and never go out until I come back with the midget," he gruffly started when the princess has rushed upstairs to find gauze to help with his lesions.

The Weccan leaned over the table, his palms on either side; flat on their wooden dining table with his ruffled hair framing his features and his head bowed down as he deeply pondered, his worries all about you because they've kept you ensnared. They knew he would come for you. They knew they will be expecting a witcher to welcome and they were right.

"---we can't leave the midget within their reach. They'll know her existence---Ingrith of Helmfirth already knows her existence,"

The bard's eyebrows were knitted tightly together in confusion for what he has heard, stammering from all the questions inside his head that kept on bothering him. He leaned on the table beside Geralt, bright blue eyes inquisitive and confused, "What? how---how did you even know she was gone? I thought you didn't know the sorceress?"

"The Djinn placed the midget and I in a spell where I can feel what she feels and I knew she was in danger,"

Jaskier gave a hesitant nod, deliberating over what he's trying to figure out from all the phenomenon that he has encountered, "Like some curse?"

Geralt shot his head up to nonchalantly give him a glimpse of his convinced golden peepers, pursing his lips, looking away to stand straight and lean away from the table.

"If you put it that way, we can call it a curse then."

The white wolf left Jaskier in the kitchen and drifted towards the stairs, making him trail behind; walking with a phrase of protests over the half naked witcher taking his flight.

"We need to treat those wounds before you step foot in the castle, Geralt."

There was no need to beat behind the bushes in Geralt's protective instincts. Specifically when you were in a risk to be hurt by their filthy hands. He took the staircases with his heavy footfall, roughly reassuring the bard from his worries.

"Already did. I'll be fine, bard."

Once they've reached the second floors, all wounded and bloody; both Geralt and Jaskier, they stood in the middle of the wooden hallways. Eye to eye as they were having a serious talk. Their voices echoing all over the place, "She saved Cirilla's life for the second time around," Geralt huffed and gave one seething sigh when the pain on his lower rib was burning. He certainly needed them to gauze his wounds before leaving.

"---even helped you forget about that knight you were fond with. I need to save her,"

Jaskier's mouth fell open from his bluntness, believing that you have been used as a person to forget his previous ones. He'd wiggled those slim shoulders of his, hands on his hips and keeping his head held high. A fake cough left his lips, thinking of ways to get back from being attacked figuratively by Geralt for a lot of times already.

"I won't let another slip away again, Jaskier."

Jaskier raised a knowing brow, sharing a bloody compact with the witcher as they stood against each other dripping with their own wounds and blood; an understanding that they both could only comprehend and would silently agree to, "I understood Durriken now," he gave a firm nod, convincing himself for his sentences.

Geralt squinted his eyes back at the bard, judging him from the back of his head and reading between his lines.

Jaskier talked to Durriken when they've left the other day. He tried to know what they've talked about because the bard was full aware of how the switch has turned inside Geralt's peculiar, introverted mind from that moment in the marketplace.

Durriken knew before everything could even happen---perks of being a fortune teller, believing that you had a reason why you've arrived.

Jaskier raised a finger to his front, a sassy brow raised as he firmly claimed, "She's the witcher's destiny. The reason she's here is because..." pause. "---of you, Geralt."

Julian just couldn't keep still and watch everything unfold. He knew Geralt and what ticks him, understood the simplest gestures that had a whole lot of meaning behind it. Jaskier can't help but pry around when it involved the white wolf.

This was why he was the bard who stood by his side because he tried to understand him for who and what he was. A person who truly cared, a friend who truly accepted him; though, most of the times, he was there to annoy the shite out of him.

"And that's why she needs to be saved. I can't let her die, Bard." Geralt honestly spoke, the truth being said rather than staying silent like how he would usually do.

The bard has given him a satisfied smile, his beam widening once he jested, "Oooooooh! I've waited for this moment to come so I can finally say it after decades---In other words," he playfully bantered, finding the right words to get back for receiving his bluntness, "---you love her, Witcher. Don't you?"

Cirilla held the ripped, long, white clothing to her chest. The door to her room slightly opened as she tried to listen onto what they were arguing about, they weren't. The word 'love' peaking her attention when Jaskier lightly tried to poke on Geralt's honesty, irking him to the bones and hoping to get something out of his sudden uprightness.

Lo and behold, as soon as the witcher opened his pretty mouth, they were left disappointed from a hum that he'd habitually does everyday when he wanted to stay silent.

"Hmm."

Retrieving no answer from such an important, scandalous question that would be a fact once it was positively answer; a simple 'yes' would've been evidence that the white haired witcher was actually capable to experience a certain feeling that would make him more human than he can ever be.

All you could see was darkness. No visions nor imagery of where you were going as an empty sack has been forcefully placed around your head. Tybalt has kept you immobilized within his arms that surrounded you. The sack was needed so there was no risk of escaping which can happen if you knew your ways just like their previous capture who happened to be a thief that knew the directions of the kingdom.

The sack was tightened around your neck, making you choke once they roughly shoved your shoulders to move as you were curtly placed down by the vampire. Pavement. Rock pavement. You silently thought as you felt rough hands grip your arms so tight. On either side, they were controlling you and assuming who they were; you knew it was cavaliers.

The gates seem to open as you've heard the loud screeching of a sound. A couple of harsh tugs; here and there. Some offending remarks you've received when you tried to thrash against their holds. They were calling you 'the witcher's whore' or his tramp that made you frown behind the empty sack of potatoes used for your head.

Footfalls can be heard all around you. They were everywhere and all heavy, marching as if they have a purpose as to why they were there. There was no idea as to where they tried to confine you; in a large cage? a building where all their prisoners are there in jail? or were you in a castle? their palace?

The men on either side of you dragged you strengthfully towards where they wanted; making you bark back despite of being temporarily blind for their purpose.

"I know how to walk, okay?! Stop dragging me around like I'm your rag doll!"

Tybalt loudly scoffed from behind, walking through the stoned hallway that directed straight towards the hoosegow where an Elven has been kept for a month, "Prisoners shan't be complaining, ye' know?"

A loud thump and squeaking of a door made you hastily look around in panic; thinking that you might be thrown in a huge fireplace so your body can be burnt to dust because they knew your existence here didn't actually existed and if you do get to be cremated, nobody would even care.

Will Geralt try and save you for the third time?

From the day that you have been taken and cared for in their home, it was already an act of protection. He didn't think twice to adopt and let you have a part of their house; saving you from an Alghoul who was hunting you down and planning to make you its meal. But, Geralt killed it for you.

The white wolf has even killed men for you to feel sympathy for. When Geralt of Rivia protects one person, he would surely not think twice but to put an end towards their life; as long as they were evil or hurting another.

He was one of a kind and the affection you have for him needed label. You were understanding everything now; the care and worry you feel whenever he goes for his hunt, how the sting feels inside your heart whenever he tends to become a lot more quieter rather than usual, thinking that he was avoiding you because he'd realize how much of a burden you are in his life.

Also considering the feeling of happiness whenever he sweetly touches you, feeling his skin on yours like it was destined for sensations to occur. Sensations that only he can transpire out the the earth's perimeters.

You comprehended it very patently. It was love that you had for him. You hoped it was because lust or infatuation never has given the effects like what you've been interpreting from the witcher.

No secrets can't be revealed as long as it was true especially with undisclosed matters. Hence, you planned to tell Geralt as soon as you get to see him again.

That is, if your future around the Kaedwenians won't involve you and death rolled together as one.

Their tight grip has made your arms sore. You were flailing your arms away from their grasp and the violent reaction that they have gotten from resulted in you being pushed to the ground, creating your healing gash with another deep wound that made you yelp. They've quickly yanked the sack off your head; all unkempt from being cramped, hurriedly keeping you inside the slammer as they marched away to lock up the thick, metal railings like you've committed such a harsh crime.

You've held onto your scrapped knee, seeing blood on the pads of your finger and it made you aggressively scream from where you've laid hunched over the cold stones beneath you; igniting the tiny, surprised jump from the knights who were guarding your cell.

The tight coil on the top of your stomach was starting to move; meaning to say, another panic-attack was starting to give rise because of how uncomfortable and eerie does it felt to be in jail from the past era. It was more ominous and uncanny rather than what jail looked like in the modern period.

You were heaving breaths, turning around and staying flat on your bottom to see the armored men squinting their eyes back like you were some weird creature, the notion of being Geralt's lover sickening their bones as if they were much of a better man than he is. They weren't. Geralt was better than them---soul-wise. Their gauging eyes made you giggle aloud in a sarcastic tone.

"I can't believe you are all actually humans---"

The lock of the door jiggled, people behind the entrance loudly pushing it open; in which Tybalt and a lady with glowing purple eyes emerged from the hatch.

"My lady," Tybalt started with a sultry tone dripping on his tongue, subtly nodding his head off to where you were hunched over.

This woman in front of you didn't look entirely human after all, you mentally thought. Glowing purple eyes; with her shoulders rolled back with a head held up high, such stance that made her look powerful. It was enough to make you cower.

She was a beauty even. Utterly bewitching from a woman's perspective. A high bridged nose, glassy dark skinned complexion that came with a pouty lip. The grotesque woman was enchanting in the eyes of men if her physical aspects could make you dumbfounded.

"Incredible." the latter spoke in fascination, taking heedful steps close amongst the lines of metal hinges. The luminescence of a torch has caught her purple eyes, glowing against the light as if magic was flowing through her veins; utterly strange because no normal human had eyes like hers, nor have you seen one in Geralt's dimension up until today.

"Another...you," she continued, her eyes cast upon you when she took heed of your familiar face.

"---It's true. There has always been another dimension,"

You've looked around, avoiding her discretionary gaze, a gaze that held corruption or malign beneath the colorful hue of her beautiful colored irises. They were winsome; however, her allurement came with a thorn that would surely make you bleed when touched.

"I'm..I'm not---"

Straightforwardly, she pointed out with a silent and warning tut, "There is no use of lying, little one. You are talking to a sorceress,"

As that has been mentioned, you couldn't help but snap your head and turn to look at her. Your eyebrows knitted together with eyes scrutinizing her features. Was she the sorceress that Geralt has been in love with? you questioned mutely to your alter ego. Ingrith was hasty enough to know that judging look in your eyes because of how your witcher has been involved with sorceresses after sorceresses or mutant and mystical beings.

He was known for it and based on how you were judging her, your mind was also well aware of how infamous he had been with women.

Geralt of Rivia was given a lot to choose. Yet, he has chosen a powerless, vulnerable, less of a beaut than what he would've picked and Ingrith wanted to laugh for his choices---what he planned to be destined with a dangerous life ahead.

"You're the Yennefer one?"

"How do you know her, thief?"

An obvious shake of your head was given; shaking the worry away from seeing Geralt's long lost love working in a castle and also for the queen and king. That wasn't just the reason why you didn't want to see Yennefer anymore, another justification as to why you didn't want to was because of the bigger chances that you would be going home in one way or another when the white wolf wanted to because there was no proof or evidence that he wouldn't send you home. Sure, he has said several times already that you were his home---however, what if his feelings changes especially that his relationship with the sorceress has been ruined from a certain fight you didn't know about?

Did Geralt feel the same way about you? Was it love or merely just infatuation?

"Nevermind. You're not her." pause. "---also, why are you calling me a thief, lady?!"

Your eyebrows knotted closer than ever from her assumptions. It wasn't just Tybalt or his goons calling you a thief, even the sorceress too. Ingrith pulled away from the bars, dusting her gloved hands from the dust that was transferred to her leather mittens like the people sitting behind closed bars were infectious. She'd given Tybalt a look, her face indistinct of what she wanted to feel for seeing the real you.

She ignored your yapping as she asked the vampire beside her, "Are you sure she's destined with the witcher as a lover?"

Tybalt gave her a small nod, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched you give him a glare back, "Yes, my lady. Last time I stabbed the little woman, the witcher was all feral, ye' know? It was quite fun to watch, nevertheless. This whore seems to be very important for him,"

"He'll be coming then."

Your knotted eyebrows suddenly went up your hairline at that. She sounded too enthusiastic for Geralt to come by; her voice masking a mixture of anticipation for seeing him and also hoping for something else when he arrives. It was a tone that only women could understand in their own language and you couldn't help but go livid.

She wanted something from your witcher and it doesn't look nor does it feel right because you could sense your eye twitch.

"Hey, sorceress of doom. I'm not a child. My womanhood is fully developed if you wanna know because you sound like you're insulting my height---thank you very much because that wasn't a first---Also, you sound like you want to fuck my witcher!---My witcher!" you bluntly stated, the tip of your tongue feeling vile and bitter from the truthfulness of your words. Jealousy being the root of it all and probably intimidation over this sorceress.

She wasn't that Yennefer yet. What if it was her already?

"---Find your own witcher! He's coming to save me, not give you a rumpy pumpy while you are all keeping me in prison!"

Ingrith could feel her temples have gotten flicked from that. Your attitude was making her blood boil---a know-it-all in a world you hardly knew about. She was beginning to come to a realization that your mouth needed barricade, it needed to know where you stood because apparently, she was having the upper hand and you were munching on her toe figuratively.

"Are you sure about that?" Ingrith spoke as a matter of fact; her lips curling into a sinister grin and this is what gets her going, "---you sound like you don't know your witcher too well, child."

"---You haven't heard the truest tales of him then. Your witcher loves to bed women in all brothels---Witchers leave all the time because that's what they do. They travel anywhere to hunt monsters,"

Your mouth was ready to throw curses after curses. A few steps close toward the bars made her grin wider to see your tough facade falter in the tiniest, seeing it from behind those confused eyes of yours. A mixture of fighting for what you had with a self destructing insecurity that makes you overthink of the future despite not talking it through with your mutant of a lover.

Ingrith didn't back down to that fight you have been mentally trying to assault as she was wiser to knowing your existence had a count down with them around.

She only needed to know where the portal was; options would be a sorceress back in your world which transported you to the continent. Second is a physical egress that has been never found nor discovered by anyone yet. From your kingdom to theirs. It wouldn't just be a theory because when the conjunction of spheres started, all hell broke lose in the continent. So, the idea wasn't completely a hypothesis that didn't hold zero percent chances of it.

All Ingrith needed was evidence and she will surely get the answers out of you even if she'll be using corporal punishments---even to the point of drawing blood until you say words she wanted to hear.

The sorceress began to wind you up a lot more, finding amusement from the reactions and tiny twitches of your face which tells how upset you are as she ran her mouth with endless gibes, "---your beloved Witcher can't be satisfied with one woman in all his life especially with a human like you because one ages slower over the other."

She crouched before you behind bars, gritting her teeth together like a feral hound trying to mark up his or her prey.

"You don't have magic. You aren't mutated and you die like normal men," Ingrith seethed, her eyes piercing and full of hatred towards you.

---Or maybe from mankind itself. You tried to understand where she was coming from or what she was taking a stand to. The sorceress in front of you thinks of herself as if she is higher than most human alive and probably a power-hungry feline where she would take revenge on whoever has hurt her.

It was that, or she just thinks she's above all because of the power and magic that she has been lucky to have.

"They have no capacity for emotion because of the combination of their hard training, genetic modifications, and seclusion from society. I suppose love is important and heartfelt in your world, correct?" the sorceress articulated with a scorn, "---Not to Witchers, my dear. I doubt he would love you as you expect him to. You'll only be the woman who tried to substitute over Yennefer of Vengerberg's position,"

You've given her a petulant expression and a moue that could make plants wither from the hate of seeing the sorceress. She couldn't help but send a ridicule as Ingrith also feels the same, "You are not special. The Witcher needs a person who does not give him more weight on his back---he needs a strong, independent woman who can save herself from being locked inside a cage and not screaming help for him,"

Ingrith of Helmfirth brought to a stand, her eyes throwing daggers over your kneeling form. You were easy to intimidate and certainly effortless to scare away just by the height differences. She simply chuckled when all you've ever done was give her a purse of your lips and a death stare that has probably killed her inside your head for a lot of times already; yet, you were helpless, inundated and incapable of doing such from a mortal.

She knew it; sensed that you held no magic.

"I didn't need you attacking me this way," you quipped with a shake of your head, sighing from the tiring conversation that was taking a toll on you no matter how unaffected you try to appear. But, you were futile to their world and even to a government that was quite unfamiliar to you, authorities that didn't care about the welfare and lives of people.

Sitting back on your derriere with your legs in a criss-cross position, you've held your guard down and went on with the flow. Suddenly, on the midst of prompting down in a comfortable position, you've heard the metal door swinging open and saw the sorceress holding up a hand to you like she had some repulsor; thinking she was Iron Man from how she pointed her palm at your face.

Your face was warped in irritation and ambiguity. You knew what she was doing; her magic is what it is. With a slap of her hand away from your face, barks of remarks has been said out in the open, "What? you need a high five after insulting me like that? even had to pry over what relationship I have with Geralt?---or are you Iron Man dressed as a lady? am I in the MCU?"

The vicious sorceress had a nonplussed look on her face, analyzing what was wrong with the spell she tried to cast upon you, but it seems like her runes has been blocked by someone or something she couldn't understand. Ingrith knelt before you and quickly grabbed onto your throat, her fingers roughly wresting along the line of your jaw as she made you look into her eyes.

None. You had no magic; really knew no witchcraft.

"You should be fainting right now," she lowly mumbled to herself, her gaze intently examining your face while you spat out dry cough from being choked alive, gagging in the process of being pounced on.

"Excuse---E-Excuse me, I'm not. You---You suck! You're not a real sorceress then!"

Until such time, she'd realize the light, chain of metal attached to your neck. Ingrith has straightaway pulled the collar of your sweater down until it has been slightly ripped off. You yelped and resisted to comply from her wishes. However, she'd slapped you hard enough on the same spot as Tybalt did which has made you cease from shrieking as the ache in your jaw started to double up more than ever.

They were literally treating you like a doll that they could hurt or ignite pain and you want nothing more than to see Geralt and lull you to sleep, being taken care of by your own witcher as he tells stories about his adventures with Jaskier or Cirilla, appreciating the difference of being in his family's arms and the people whom they've warned you about.

They have been right all along.

Ingrith pulled the collar down until she'd seen such Cicatrix engraved in between the valley of your chest; the medallion of the Witcher and his school, you were destined to be with him and to create a progeny---his progeny in this world you were in. The lesion now looked like a birthmark, turning darker against your skin and it was enough to presume that the process has finally began.

Along came with an ornament; specifically, the fae necklace that had enchantments to rebound ill-fate has turned from coral green to black like her incantations have been reversed.

"Impossible!" she exclaimed in the middle of the slammer, the Elven who was in the same stockade you were in has given her a look from her loud guffaws, "---you're under a curse---the Warp of the souls. Who'd curse you?"

The sorceress urgently demanded, her fingers tugging your arm as she pulled you closer to her face; seeing the beauty you once saw turn monstrous over the hate that was controlling her to live.

You shook your head, eyes all wide from the frustration, anger and hopelessness being confined inside a dungeon, "I don't know! I haven't met any mages except for you, bitch!"

Ingrith pushed you off to the side, making you stumble on your back flat that has made you groan.

"You're being protected," she stood up on her feet and dusted off her hands straight to your face; all feral with barred teeth, you've given her the stink eye and a nasty scowl, wanting to spit of her foot for her malign, "---Did the witcher find you a Djinn and planned to throw you off back to where you came from?"

"I'm not fucking answering you!" you loudly yelled, voice echoing inside the stoned slammer.

"It is a yes, then."

The sorceress turned away at that, paving her way to the entrance of your spectral, cold cage. She stepped out of the hatch with a lour and most likely with such ire, the curse being a stronger fuel to the fire as she scanned you from head to foot, her gaze lingering longer on your stomach.

Her glowing purple eyes that was quite difficult to decipher when she'd step out of the cage has made you hold a hand on your belly. Why was she staring at you in a way as if she was planning something? did she wanted to eat your intestines?

"---It's that...kind of wish, Tybalt."

Her right hand man has been silent all through out your conversation with the sorceress. The vampire kept his mouth shut, listening to what information they could earn from Ingrith's interrogation. He immediately understood what she meant about 'that kind of wish,' and it was confusing him because of the Witcher's inability to conceive such children.

Tybalt was thinking that your existence never had any reason as to why you've stumbled across the continent. Unless, you've been brought by destiny to produce and make miracles for Geralt's life?

The sorceress leaned closer, her mouth near to his ear as she quietly spoke; not risking for you to hear, "Starve her. Leave her alone with the Elf until The Witcher arrives---or better yet, cudgel her until she speaks answers." she huffed a breath, full of detest over what powerful being was protecting you from her---your curse making her loathe you even more as you were fertile enough to give Geralt an offspring. He shouldn't have been given that luck because he was destined to be completely barren. But, here you were being a complete wonder as to why the curse was a success.

Ingrith hated the concept of an offspring especially that she was also an infertile woman and she couldn't risk the likelihood of a child and its genesis of being a successful heir of a djinn's given malediction; a byproduct of the spirit's potentials in one human to be protected by a witcher.

It could be a threat to her and you were certainly a hazard that she needed to control.

The sorceress speedily left the cell with Tybalt following suit. Her palms itching to go berserk over being futile to your existence, "---She must not produce an heir with the witcher," she sauntered through the path with raging blood. The higher vampire swiftly tugging onto her wrist with his agility.

"But, witchers are infertile, my lady. I doubt they may produce a child,"

"She's made a wish. She has never been infertile from the start nor is she mutated. This thief does not possess such magic but she can give the witcher a child as long as she's protected by the Djinn. The Djinn would give their heir his own magic to create madness in this world which is why she's under a curse. Their child will hold power that no one can ever understand with the help of it,"

"---To make sure of it, we shan't walk around bushes. Spells or maybe poison shall do the trick. We don't need another damned prodigy in this world!"

Tybalt has given her a look, puffing out his frustrations for how she was a foot farther away from the future. The sorceress and her intentions was thoroughly getting out of hand from the moment the prince has been cursed for years. They were present when the curse for the prince has started; more so, Ingrith lasted longer than him in the castle from the moment he was seized by her when she was younger and he respected her for it, even thankful for abducting her when he was a vagrant.

"Ingrith, this is beyond the plan," he spoke through gritted teeth; tightly clutching onto her arm. She raise a brow back at him with a sarcastic reply.

"Do you want the witcher to have a child who may possess black magic then?" Tybalt shut his mouth at that, listening to her reasons and opinion about the whole tragedy that was about to happen in the future, "---you don't even know who that child with Ashen hair is. She can't be his child---he's protecting her from someone---even the thief because she is having his child,"

Ingrith forcefully yanked his hold away from her arm, giving him a sharp look of warning as she continued her gaslighting, "I remembered saving you when you were down and dirty, covered in grime in the caves because you have been abandoned as a higher vampire from your guild,"

The higher vampire's features turned adamantine; features withdrawn and never believing what words he was receiving as it felt like she was making him feel the indeptedness for taking him in.

Ingrith couldn't help but give him a mordant smile of her lips, tilting her head back at him as they stood in front of each other; eye to eye as they both had the same height. She'd seen and read the look within his eyes, conceding to her request of assenting over what side she was trying to fight as her own opinions is what matters and has always been right.

"You're strong, Tybalt. Stronger than the witcher. His sword is no match for you. You're smarter, agile and inevitable. Though, you have a weakness and I suggest you fight that vulnerability of yours---that foolish sympathy for humanity because pity for others isn't what this world needs,"

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means you couldn’t be tagged, Bb. Please check your settings) @alyxkbrl​ @himarisolace​ @barkingbullfrog​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @hellodevilslittlesister​ @turkish276​ @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​ @nympeth​ @amirahiddleston​ @gabethelobster​ @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead​ @melaninstylezz​ @psychosupernaturalhero​ @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell​ @kingniazx​ @angelias134​ @tapismyforte​ @chook007​ @covid-donotenter​ @deadlydemon​ @cheesecakeisapie​ @angelofthor​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky​, @shesthelastjedi​, @a–1–1–3, @gutfucks​, @raynosaurus-rex​​, @britty443​,  @suhke3​, @shadowclawstudio88​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​, @crazybutconfidentaf​​ 

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira​​, @iloveyouyen​​, @rahdaleigh​​, @silverkitten547​ @henrythickcavill​ @kaatelyyynn​

[maribatshipper]

Jiminette String Part 3

I’M BACK BABY! I know you’ve been waiting for this, here it is, everyone!

Part 1 Part 2

Adrien looks at his fingers, seeing strings on his fingers, confused about them.

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news! A new Akuma, going by the name, “Soulfinder” is walking through Paris, making everyone see Soulmate strings. Oh, it seems he has an announcement to Paris.”

Adrien looks towards the TV to see the supervillain smirking at the Camera near the Lourve.

“People of Paris, I am Soulfinder. I’ve been called crazy for years, insane because I saw that some people just aren’t meant to be together. They said I was just trying to break up all the good couples, but now you all get to see who your soulmates are! Let me explain the strings. Thumbs are like the pointer, but the thumb is your soul sibling. Those that are too close to be friends, but are not romantic. Pointers are strictly platonic. They can move to the middle finger, which is Soul enemies. The ring finger is romantic, and pinkie is the soul parent or child. It depends on your age. But be warned, if you grab your romantic soulmate string and you aren’t in the same place as them, something weird could happen. It could be you lose sight in one eye and so does your soulmate, but your soulmates would be seeing from your sightless eye. You could switch bodies with your soulmate. It’s random. Enjoy knowing who your soulmate is!” Soulfinder smiles.

Adrien looks at his finger where Plagg’s ring is residing, seeing a dark blue string on his finger.

“What do you think you’re doing, Adrien? You need to go out there and help Ladybug take down the villain!” Plagg exclaims.

Adrien protests, “But I could finally prove that Ladybug and I are soulmates!”

Plagg growls, “Didn’t you hear the Akuma? There are side effects! You could swap bodies with your soulmate, which will drive both you and them insane and you won’t be able to help Ladybug! You could lose sight in one eye, making it extremely hard to fight!”

Adrien frowns, “It’s a risk I have to take.” reaching for his string.

“Adrien, NO!”

***

Kagami frowns, quite confused at this turn of events. She ignores her romantic string, quickly realising that isn’t important, and grabs her thumb string, seeing Marinette in her mind's eye after she grabs it. But what surprises her is seeing Marinette transform into Multimouse, which Kagami approves of Ladybug’s choice, but then drops the string in shock at something else.

“What are you doing, Kagami?” Longg asks.

Kagami frowns, “I don’t care who I belong with. I care for Marinette. We need to help Ladybug. Longg, bring the storm!”

Kagami transforms into Ryuko, only to look at her hands and see her thumb and pointer strings haven’t disappeared from her sight. She looks up to see where her thumb is leading and follows it.

***

Marinette hides in an alleyway and frowns, “We have to save Liam!”

Tikki nods, “Just say the words, Marinette!”

“Tikki, Spots on!” Marinette exclaims, transforming.

The suit appears to have been upgraded, getting more armour around the chest area, on her legs and shoulders. (I’m horrible at describing this. I just want her to have a better suit.) Ladybug then looks at her hand to realise that the pointer and thumb strings haven’t disappeared. She ignores that because she can ask Liam once he’s been de-akumatised. She throws her yoyo and swings away, looking for Soulfinder.

***

Claire and Jim jump out of a Shadow portal onto a roof. They see Soulfinder walking away from the Lourve.

“How can we do this?” Claire asks.

Jim exclaims, “Wait, look!”

Ladybug lands in front of them, quite surprised.

“How’d you get up here?” She asks.

Jim sighs, “That’s not important right now, Ladybug. What is important is that we can help!”

Ladybug pulls them out of Soulfinder’s field of vision and asks, “How can you help?”

Claire grabs Ladybug’s shoulder and answers, “I use shadow magic. I can make portals quite easily and quickly and can move shadows. Literally.”

“I’m gonna need more than your word for that.” Ladybug frowns.

Claire puts her hand to her left, opening a portal to a few feet away and sticks her hand in, causing it to come out the other side. Ladybug’s eyes widen.

“We can help!” Claire frowns.

Ladybug puts her hand to her chin in thought.

“You can’t help like this. If Hawk Moth new about your power, he’d try and take it from you, either by kidnapping or some other way. But- Of course!” Ladybug snaps her fingers. “You stay right here. I’ll be back.”

Ladybug swings away, leaving the two on the rooftop.

“Do you think we should’ve told her what weapons we prefer?” Jim asks.

Claire shrugs, “Probably.”

***

Ladybug jumps into her room and detransforms, walking over to the Miracle Box she’s hidden underneath her pillow.

“Are you sure about this, Marinette?” Tikki asks.

Marinette nods, “Trust me, Tikki. We can trust them. They offered to help, and if Hawk Moth assumes Claire’s power is from a Miraculous, she’d be so much safer than if he knew the truth.”

She opens the Miracle Box and looks at the Miraculous inside, reaching towards it, trying to figure out which to use this time.

“Of course!” Marinette exclaims as she grabs two.

She quickly transforms and runs back, hoping they’re still there. On her way, she bumps into Ryuko.

“Ladybug, do you know where the akuma is?” Ryuko asks.

Ladybug nods, “It’s in a chain bracelet. We’ll probably need some help, though.”

Ryuko nods, “I trust you to pick worthy holders. But, Ladybug, after the battle, I need to talk to you.”

***

Downstairs, Sabine and Tom look at their ring-fingers to find they are attached to each other, and they are relieved.

“At least we were meant to be together, Tom.” Sabine smiles.

Tom replies, “I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be my soulmate.”

“He’s such a sweetheart. I’m glad we’re soulmates.”

“She can kick anyone’s butt. That’s what I fell in love with.”

(I am so sorry, I had to put this in.)

***

Claire and Jim watch as Soulfinder looks at people’s worried faces as he passes by them.

“How can we turn him back to Liam?” Jim frowns.

“We can help with that.” Ladybug smiles.

The two teenagers turn to Ladybug to see Ryuko with her. She swipes her yoyo, causing it to open and a glowing white light appearing inside. Ladybug puts her hand in, pulling out a box. She holds it towards Jim.

“Jim Lake Jr, this is the Miraculous of the Tiger, which grants the power of the hunt. You will use it for the greater good. Once the mission is completed, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you, Jim?” Ladybug asks.

Jim nods, “Of course you can.”

He picks up the box and opens it, causing a small glowing orb to fly around him, giving him deja vu. When the light dies down, a small tiger-like creature appears.

“Hello, young cub, I am Roaar! I’m your kwami for today. All you have to say it Roaar, time to hunt!” Roaar smiles.

Jim smiles as he puts on the Panjas bracelet, “Roaar, time to hunt!”

Roaar goes into the Panjas bracelet. Instead of the usual feeling of Armour surrounding him, he feels fabric forming on his skin, including on his face. When it’s finished, Jim stands with a bit of dark purple in his hair, a mask with black and purple stripes on it, and a purple bodysuit with black stripes, and a tail attached to his back. Claws protrude from his fingers and two swords lay on his back. Ladybug’s face almost turns as red as her mask seeing how attractive he is. She quickly pulls out another box and holds it to Claire.

“Claire Nunez, this is the Miraculous of the Horse, which grants the power of teleportation. You will use it for the greater good. Once the job is done, you will return the miraculous to me. Can I trust you?” Ladybug asks.

Claire smirks, “Yep. Not that I needed it.”

Ladybug explains, “Yes, but Hawk Moth won’t know that. He’ll just assume you’re old enough to make more than one portal.”

Claire opens the box to reveal glasses. Another glowing orb appears, and it flies around Claire. As the light dissipates, a little horse kwami appears.

“Oh, hello. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” The kwami asks.

“Claire Nunez.” Claire answers.

The kwami asks, “Are you glorious and famous?”

Ladybug rolls her eyes and goes to say something when Claire answers, “I’m the daughter of a Councilwoman back in Arcadia, so I’m a little famous. What do I have to do?”

“All you have to say is, “Kaalki, full gallop!” Kaalki smiles.

Claire puts on the glasses and smirks, “Kaalki, full gallop!”

Kaalki goes into the glasses, and Claire transforms. Her white patch in her hair grows, covering all her hair, which has grown and is pulled into a high ponytail. A horseshoe appears on her waist. (If anyone can do fanart, I would love that, please. I can’t figure out how to describe her transformation.)

“You have a gaggletack?” Jim asks.

Ladybug asks, “What? It’s just a magical horseshoe. Like my yoyo. Oh, and what are your names?”

A/N: I’m baaaaack! Damn, you’ve been waiting a while, haven’t you? Admittedly, not as long as for other fics, but gah! Oh, this was fun to write. I had to make a nod towards the Gaggletacks because come on! Oh, and I have no clue for names for the heroes. I mean, Claire’s Spanish, so we can give her a Spanish name, and she can suggest something for Jim! Please, though, I need your opinions and FANART! I am terrible at drawing, and editing pictures, so I need YOURS! Please! I’m begging on my knees.

Oh, and Adrien’s soulmate, can anyone guess who it is? Dark blue because the character I picked out of nowhere seems to where that the most. Seriously, she seems like she doesn’t have any flavour in her closet. Just stripes. I apologise for giving you such heartache. And, what should happen to Adrien when he grabs the string? Blind in one eye, soulmate teleports into his room, swap bodies, what do you think should happen? I do have a plan, but if I’m given a better idea, I might do it.

Tagging: @itspetitfantomestuff @belleyells