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oh-theseus · 3 months

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the sound

pairing: astarion ancunin x gn!reader, astarion ancunin x gn!tav summary: your relationship with astarion has ran its course, but what happens when he recognizes the sound of your heart in a crowded tavern? word count: 4,071 a/n: this is post-game spawn astarion!! he's a freak here. like he's kind of a obsessed weirdo. idk, i wanted to play into all the weird things vampires can do 🤷‍♀️ also shamelessly admitting that the basis of this comes from 'the sound' by the 1975. def recommend giving it a listen :) anyways though SORRY I WAS GONE!! hope you guys accept this as a decent apology gift <33

warnings: ooc spawn!astarion, mean/toxic astarion, he's also kinda obsessed, astarion chokes reader???, blood depictions, blood drinking, stalker astarion if you squint, not a happy ending. SORRY I LIKE WEIRD FREAK SPAWN ASTARION!!! lmk if i need to add more!

Your relationship with Astarion had always been tumultuous. Perhaps that was because it was forged amidst the potential ending of the world, or perhaps it had something to do with the insane emotional baggage both of you brought to the table. Whatever it had been, it had not been enough to keep the two of you together.

Somewhere between killing Cazador and defeating the Absolute, things fell apart. And it wasn’t just Astarion’s fault, or just yours. Both of you… stopped trying? That didn’t feel right. Because you were trying, you really were. But it was never enough, on either side. So, you decided to part ways. It was better that way. At least that’s what you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.

Months passed, and Astarion became but a distant memory of fangs in your skin. Or, you tried to make him little more than that. You kept yourself busy in Baldur’s Gate, running errands of all sorts. You traveled some, but never as far as you did in order to defeat the Absolute. The days were long and grueling. Some nights you woke from nightmares, other nights you spent with lovers you’d never see again. Despite feeling a bit lonely at times, you have learned to enjoy this new circle of life for yourself. The routine kept you grounded. Kept you from thinking too hard about the vampire you once loved.

Taverns also helped. Not just because of the alcohol, but because everyone always wanted to talk about something. You had come to learn that most of the stories you heard were lies - or at least very embellished truths. Regardless, the fellow patrons were good company. They would laugh or cry shamelessly and were always willing to buy you a drink when you looked particularly rough. They didn’t pry, either. To them, you were just some other lonely fool coming to distract themself for an evening. And a good distraction it was, too.

Until that vampire you were trying so hard to forget walks in.

For a moment, the world stops. Your eyes are locked on the figure in the door, his white curls seeming to glow in the moonlight outside. He winces when he steps inside - he didn’t like loud places, you remembered that. He looks just the same as you remember him, of course. A man unaged for two hundred years. What was a few months to his eternal not-quite-youth?

You look away before he can see you. And though you try to focus back on the adventurers in front of you, you find it difficult to do so. Your heart pounds with anxiety. You aren’t sure why you’re worried. Even upon parting with Astarion, he had remained relatively civil. But you knew Astarion better than most, so you knew that time did not heal Astarion’s wounds. No, time only seemed to make the vampire’s wounds fester up and get infected. If he wasn’t angry with you then, you had a feeling he would be angry with you now.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to the group of strangers you’re sitting with. You stand slowly, eyes scanning the crowded tavern for Astarion. You don’t see him, and your eyebrows furrow together - had you imagined him? It wouldn’t be the first time you saw something that wasn’t actually there.

The bar is crowded, the bartender working quickly to try to please everyone. You take one look at the scene and decide that slipping out the back door into the quiet street outside will bring you more relief than waiting however long for a single drink will.

As predicted, the streets of Baldur’s Gate are quiet. The moon is high in the sky, the fullness of it casting a soft glow over the street before you. A cat scurries out of a barrel nearby, but other than that, you are alone. Your back presses to the wall of the tavern beside the door, sliding down until you’re crouched on the ground, your hands rubbing across your face.

This was all rather silly, wasn’t it? Running and hiding because your ex-lover showed up at the most popular tavern in the city you knew he resided in. It was childish, pathetic even. Still, you don’t get up. You let the cool night breeze dance over the exposed parts of your skin while your hands fall away from your eyes. Your eyes remain closed though as you inhale and exhale slowly - you were getting quite good at this self-soothing thing, weren’t you? You hear the door opening and the sound of feet stepping outside, but don’t think twice about it. People were allowed to leave the tavern, weren’t they?

“Ah, I thought I heard you.”

Correction - everyone except for Astarion was allowed to leave the tavern.

Your eyes fly open, and you’re on your feet in a moment. Astarion stands before you, wearing that all too-familiar smirk of his. You watch as his crimson eyes flicker across your body twice over, stunned into silence. Your heart is racing still, though you would wager it’s beating faster now based on how loud it was in your own ears.

“Cat got your tongue, my dear?” Astarion tilts his head to the side when he speaks. He is mocking you, of course. You were right to assume that he had grown angry with time. “I could hear you all the way inside, you know. Isn’t that just so interesting?” Hear you? What in the Nine Hells was he going on about? “What are you talking about?” You manage to ask, face wrinkled up in confusion. Astarion seems confused for a moment too, a distant look in his eyes that you knew meant he was trying to recall a memory. Impatient with him and his growing silence, you shift from foot to foot. Get on with it, you think.

“Hm, seems I forgot to tell you about that,” Astarion seems to say to himself. He focuses on you fully once more, waving his wrist when he next speaks. “Your heart, darling. I can hear it.” If this information had been presented to you a year ago, you might have slapped him. But you’d become quite desensitized to weird things - especially weird things pertaining to the nature of vampires. At least this part of Astarion’s nature made sense to you, unlike his inability to cross running water. If he was meant to live off of blood, then you supposed he should be able to hear the thing at the center of every living creature that made that blood flow.

But there were countless people in the tavern. You scoff - he’s lying. He couldn’t have been able to identify your heart among the numerous others in there. He must have seen you when you slipped outside.

“Your lies flatter me, Astarion. Truly,” you state sarcastically. Once, your sarcasm might have been full of mirth and lightheartedness when it came to him. But none of that is present now. Perhaps time had made your hurt fester, too? You always were more alike Astarion than you cared to admit.

“You wound me.” Astarion presses a hand to cover his dead heart in mock hurt. But he smirks down at you still. “Don’t you think I know exactly how to flatter you?”

Astarion takes a step closer to you. You’re suddenly very aware that the wall of the tavern is pressing against you. It’s almost frightening how much he looks like a predator like this. It’s almost… exciting. Your heart races faster, and Astarion’s smirk turns into a knowing grin.

You should’ve ran a stake through his heart when you had the chance.

“I do not have time for your antics.” Your voice conveys the same authority you once used to lead a makeshift army against the Absolute. Astarion finds it funny that you think it will work on him, the person who resented authority more than anyone or anything you had ever met.

“My antics are simply me wishing to catch up with an old friend. I hadn’t realized that was a crime these days.” He takes another step forward, that knowing grin of his not disappearing.

“Oh, a friend? Is that what we were?” Somehow, the implication that you had only been a friend hurts more than any insult he could possibly hurl at you right now. Had he truly thought so little of your nights together? Of the secrets you shared, the times you let him feed from you? “You wear your heart on your sleeve, my love. So easy to hurt it, isn’t it?” Astarion has moved so close to you now, that if he required air to breathe he’d be breathing in what you were exhaling out. You watch his eyes dance across your face, then trail down to your neck. Wordlessly, he grabs your chin and tilts your neck to the side.

Your hand is on his wrist immediately, the other one reaching for your blade strapped to your hip. You think he’s going to bite you.

“Ah, ah,” Astarion stops your hand from grabbing your weapon with a tight grip around your wrist. “I’m just looking. Always so hungry for blood, aren’t we?” You don’t like the comparison of your desire to protect yourself to his need to drink blood. You don’t comment on it though, too busy watching his eyes burning into your neck.

If he wasn’t going to bite you, then - Oh. The scars.

Two puncture wounds on the right side of your throat, scarred over from the amount of times Astarion had bitten into that exact same spot to drink from you. You feel his hand leave your chin and push your collar to the side, exposing the scars to him more. He chuckles darkly, and you use your free hand to shove him away from you.

Astarion stumbles back, a look of surprise on his face. It’s quickly replaced with anger - an emotion you had seen on his face so many times before, but never directed at you until this very moment.

“Do those make finding a little playmate difficult?” Astarion asks, eyebrows raised in mock interest. You would ask how he knew about your habits, but he did tell you once that he had a remarkable sense of smell. He could probably smell the elf you’d taken home last night on you still. You have half the mind to be embarrassed. The other half of your mind really wants to hit him.

“That’s not really your business anymore, is it?” You counter, crossing your arms over your chest. You’ve moved off of the wall now, making sure there’s empty space behind you should he try to approach you again. “But, I am glad you are still as jealous as ever.”

“Hah! Jealous!” Astarion does that fake little laugh of his. He goes so far as to bend over and then wipe a non-existence tear from his eye when he stands. “Darling, I truly could not care any less who or what you are doing in your free time. Rather - I could not care any less about you.”

It’s your turn to laugh at him. “Bold words for the man who just confessed to knowing the sound of my heart amidst all those other ones in there.”

Astarion doesn’t like this response in the slightest. You grin wickedly as he clenches his fists at his side and narrows his eyes. You two always did know how to hurt one another, didn’t you?

There is a truth to your words though. It was bold for him to claim not to care about you anymore, but to still have the sound of your heart so well memorized that he could find you in the middle of a loud, crowded tavern after months of not seeing each other. It’s almost romantic, if not a bit obsessive. Though, Astarion’s version of romance always had been a bit obsessive, hadn’t it?

“Cat got your tongue, Astarion?” You use his own words on him, tilting your head in the very same way that he had done not five minutes ago. You don’t suppress the wickedly pleased grin that spreads across your face when Astarion’s jaw clenches. Yes, you knew exactly how to hurt him.

“Very original,” he hisses. You simply shrug - as if all of this and him are not worth your time. He does not like that. Not one bit.

When you and Astarion were together, he was always very careful with you, unless you requested otherwise. You had seen that he was strong in a way that was inhuman, but had never been anywhere close to being on the receiving end of that strength. Until now.

You let out a gasp when you are pushed back against the wall of the tavern. You immediately regret it, given that it leaves you with no air in you when Astarion’s hand wraps around your neck. Not strong enough to bruise, but certainly strong enough to have you reaching for your blade. Again, he beats you there and pins your hand to the wall

“You forget yourself, little dove,” he whispers, mere inches from your face. If someone else were to slip out the back door of the tavern, they would likely think you were two lovers with no shame.

Given that you can not speak, you simply look at him. If you weren’t terrified of choking to death, you might have glared at him. Instead, you look at him with big, wide eyes. They plead for you - they show your fear. Your heart gives it away too. And the way your blood races beneath his hand. Your anatomy betrays your emotions more than you do.

But Astarion’s does, too. In his eyes, you see many things. Anger, of course, but there is also guilt, sadness, fear - hunger. His eyes go to those scars again. Your eyes go impossibly wider in understanding.

Your free hand taps at his wrist repeatedly, begging him to release you. He must see your desperation, because he relents. You would have fallen to your knees while you gasped for air if his hands did not catch you on either side of your waist.

His crimson eyes are darting over your features, watching as you catch your breath. He’s got that far-off look about him again. His hands squeeze your waist gently, as if he was making sure you were still there. You know what this means - how many times had you seen Astarion act just like this because he hadn’t fed in a few days? And given that he was still a spawn and was limited to nights hunting alone, you imagined it might get hard to find something to eat every once in a while.

“I forget myself,” you mumble when you can breathe properly again. You straighten up, expecting Astarion’s hands to remove themselves, but they do not. “Does your hunger always make you act as a feral beast?”

Astarion winces at your insult, as if you had hit him instead of just spoken. He had thought you wouldn’t notice. But those big, wet eyes of his never kept his secrets when he desired for them to be kept most.

“Perceptive as always.” His words are almost a compliment, just as his hands are almost comforting.

“You haven’t come out here to taunt me, then?” You ask, anger seeping into your tone. Did he truly think you would just give him your blood after the stunt he had just pulled? “Were you seeking a meal for the evening?” Astarion is the one to shrug now. His hands leave your sides - you find yourself almost missing his touch. “I didn’t have a plan, darling. All I knew was that your heart was racing, and I wanted to know why.”

When he said it like that, it made it almost sound like he was worried about you and your safety.

A thick, uncomfortable silence settles over you both like a wet blanket. He’s thinking again, but this time, so are you. You’re thinking about the scars on your neck, the hunger in Astarion’s eyes. You’re thinking about how it used to be comforting to let him drink from you. You’re thinking a lot of stupid, foolish things. You’re also tugging the collar of your shirt down and tilting your head to the side.

“Be quick.” You always were too generous for your own good, weren’t you?

Astarion doesn’t seem to understand what you’re telling him to do until your index finger taps over the scars on your neck. A look of pure delight fills his face, mixing together with surprise and something like mockery.

“In public? My, you’ve gotten dirty, haven’t you?” Astarion says, placing one hand on your side again. You don’t give him the pleasure of a response when his second hand comes up to your neck and traces feather-light touches over the marks. His gaze goes soft when he speaks next, peering into your eyes as if he can see into your very soul. “You are certain?”

No, you are most definitely not certain.

“Yes,” you force out, tearing your eyes away from Astarion. “Do not be greedy.”

Astarion needs no further invitation. The hand that had been tracing your skin finds its spot on the back of your neck, holding you in place while his hand on your hip keeps you steady. The gasp that leaves your lips when his fangs puncture your skin is anything but quiet. Your hands have moved to his shoulder, gripping him so tightly that your knuckles have gone white. You’d forgotten how uncomfortable it was to have someone’s teeth in your flesh.

He drinks in slow, measured gulps. Those plush lips of his suck gently on your skin, his tongue laps up the liquid that tries to escape his mouth. There is a strange intimacy to it all that you choose to ignore. You choose especially to ignore the soft groan of pleasure that falls from his mouth when your fingers start to get cold and dig further into his shoulders. A single half-shove to his shoulders, and he pulls away, a trickle of your blood making its way down his chin.

Silence sinks into the (very limited) space between the two of you once more. Astarion wipes your blood from his chin, then shows the same courtesy to your neck before covering the puncture wounds with your collar once more. You wrinkle your nose a bit when he takes his thumb into his mouth, sucking the last taste of you from his skin - while maintaining eye contact, of course. It’s revolting - it’s erotic. You don’t let that thought linger.

“Better?” You ask, hoping that the swirl of strange emotions inside of you is masked in your voice.

Astarion smirks - your voice has betrayed you. “Oh, much. You’re too good to me.”

You swallow your spit, your throat bobbing up and down with the movement. Astarion watches it carefully with dilated pupils. He’s still holding your waist, you’re still holding his shoulders. Neither of you makes to move away from the other.

The silence seeps into your very being. It finds the deepest parts of you and closes around them like a pale hand squeezing your neck. It finds your guilt - the old guilt of giving up on the man before you all those months ago. The new guilt of betraying yourself by letting him feed from you. You hadn’t even made him ask.

“Would you like to hear a secret?” He whispers, his eyes back on your face once more.

No. “Yes.”

He smiles at your response. His hand not gripping your waist begins to trace the slopes of your face with practiced familiarity. “I’ve been coming here every night. I heard you in there a few weeks ago - I only just got the courage to step inside tonight. I was hoping to see you.”

For some reason, your mind brushes over everything else he has just confessed, instead focusing on his final sentence. I was hoping to see you. It makes your heart skip a beat like you’re some kind of lovesick schoolgirl. Astarion’s smile widens, and you curse yourself for not being able to control your racing heart. It’s humiliating to know he can hear the exact reaction your body had to every word he said.

“Why?” You ask, far softer than you wanted to.

“Oh, is it not obvious my dear? I miss you.”

You’re reminded of the time Astarion told you he loved you after only a few nights spent together. He had been trying to manipulate you then - was he doing the same to you now?

“You expect me to believe that?” This time, your voice is forceful as you intended for it to be the first time. “You do not know me if you think I am foolish enough to take you for your word.”

Astarion laughs with his whole chest. His head tilts backward for a moment, the moonlight catching in his stunning white curls for a moment and making them appear to glow. His eyes have narrowed when he looks back down at you - you’re playing his game better than he thought you would. Unfortunately for you, though, he knew exactly what he could do to make you lose.

“No. Let me show you.” Astarion waits for no response before he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. As soon as the familiar pressure of his lips is on yours, your body tenses. You are trying to decide what you want to do. But then he presses more into you, and you melt.

You can taste your blood on his lips. There’s something else, too. Bitter, yet a bit sweet. Some kind of wine, if you had to guess. His fangs brush over your lower lip, threatening to sink into the plush flesh there. But the puncture never comes, and inside it’s his tongue intruding your mouth. You let him explore the space of your mouth, your body shivering when he trails his tongue along your lower lip.

And then he’s gone - his lips glistening with a mixture of your spit and his. You are panting a bit, bringing a hand up to touch your lips as if you can undo what you have just done. You do not even register that Astarion has finally removed himself from your body, too busy trying to make sense of why you hadn’t pushed him away.

You had come to the tavern tonight as part of your routine. To talk with old friends and new, and to not think about the very vampire who stood before you. How had you ended up kissing him and letting him feed from you? You might be sick from the deep sense of betrayal you feel inside of you. You’ve betrayed months of personal work to forget him. And for what? A single kiss and words you know are empty.

“You are perfect, every time,” Astarion remarks, his tongue darting across his lips to clean them of the wetness decorating them. He grins wickedly, then straightens his back. No, no. You know this look. He thinks he’s won.

You fell for his trap.

Again.

“Unfortunately, I do have rather important business to attend to.” He doesn’t even bother to look at you, too busy with straightening out the sleeves of his shirt. “Do keep yourself safe, darling. I would hate for something to happen to my little treat.” And then he’s gone, slipping inside of the tavern through the back door as if he hasn’t just ruined you with a single kiss.

You stand there, heart racing and eyes wide. You want to peel off your skin, to hide within your bones so that no one else could ever bother you. You are mortified. How could you be so stupid? You had known from the beginning that he was toying with you. Yet, you let him drink your blood, kiss your lips. And you would have given him more, if he wanted it.

You clear your throat - it’s your turn to straighten out your clothing now, especially your collar.

Your heart is still racing when you walk away from the tavern. All the way down the street you find yourself repeating one thing, over and over and over: “Don’t you think I know exactly how to flatter you?”

You’ve never wished someone had been wrong more.

taglist: @bowtomytenderdays @misscrissfemmefatale @letsstargaze @peterpankat @sukuna-connoisseur

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#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #x reader #gn!reader

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 2 months

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Hi bestie <33! Can you please do a toto wolff x fem reader where toto is the dom and has a daddy kink (he wants reader to call him it) and also an age gap kink! Tysm<333

Speed and Submission

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: A young engineer finds herself working alongside the formidable Toto Wolff. The professional relationship between them evolves as they spend long nights working together, and a palpable tension builds.

Warnings: smut, Daddy kink, male Dom female sub, Size difference, size kink, age difference, Power imbalance, explicit language, age kink

One Shot Masterlist

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The roar of engines reverberated through the paddock as the Formula 1 race weekend began in earnest. The energy was palpable, a mix of tension and excitement that everyone from the mechanics to the drivers could feel. Amidst this controlled chaos, I found myself in the heart of it all, standing beside Toto Wolff, the formidable team principal of Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team.

I was 25, fresh out of university with a degree in engineering, and this was my first job. It was a dream come true to work alongside such an iconic figure in the motorsport world. Toto, with his towering presence and sharp intellect, commanded respect effortlessly. His passion for the sport and relentless drive for perfection were intoxicating.

Our professional relationship had always been strictly that—professional. Toto was the epitome of discipline and focus, his every move calculated. But as the season progressed, we spent more and more time together. Late nights in the garage, analyzing data, strategizing for upcoming races, and occasionally sharing a quiet dinner when the workday stretched into the night.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the paddock lights cast a warm glow, Toto and I were working alone in the team's hospitality suite. The air was thick with unspoken words and a tension that had been building for weeks.Toto looked up from his laptop, his intense blue eyes meeting mine with a mix of admiration and something deeper.

"You’ve done an exceptional job this season," he said, his voice low and filled with a blend of pride and something else I couldn’t quite place. "I couldn’t have asked for a more brilliant and, shall we say, spirited young engineer.”

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. "Thank you, Toto. It means a lot coming from you."

He stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over me. "There's something else I want to talk about," he said, taking a step closer. "I’ve noticed your dedication, your enthusiasm. But I can’t help but be intrigued by the contrast between your youthful energy and my experience. It’s... captivating."

My heart raced as I looked up at him, my breath catching in my throat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said, his voice dropping even lower, "there's something between us. Something undeniable. The age difference. It’s more than just numbers, isn’t it? You’re young, vibrant, full of potential. And I find it incredibly appealing."

I couldn't deny it any longer. The late nights, the shared glances, the unspoken connection—it was all real. "Yes," I whispered. "There is something there."

Without another word, Toto closed the distance between us, his hands gently but firmly gripping my arms. His kiss was fierce, dominant, and it took my breath away. He was in control, as he always was, and I found myself surrendering to his dominance.

From that moment on, our relationship took on a new dimension. Toto was still the commanding leader at work, but behind closed doors, he was even more intense. He guided our relationship with the same precision and determination that he applied to the team. He was protective, passionate, and completely in control, often emphasizing the allure of our age difference.

Late one night, after a particularly grueling race, Toto invited me to his private suite. As I stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind me, and I felt the atmosphere shift. The room was dimly lit, the scent of his cologne mingling with the faint aroma of whiskey. Toto stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the city lights.

"Come here," he said, his voice a deep, commanding growl.

I walked toward him, my heart pounding in my chest. As I reached him, he pulled me close, his hands gripping my waist with a possessive intensity. "Do you know how hard it's been to keep my hands off you?" he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. "You’re so young, so full of life. It’s irresistible."

I shivered at his touch, my body responding to his dominance. "Then don't," I whispered, my voice trembling with anticipation.

Toto's eyes darkened with desire as he captured my lips in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over my body, exploring, claiming. He pushed me back against the wall, his lips trailing down my neck as he whispered, "You're mine tonight."

I gasped as his hands found their way under my blouse, his touch igniting a fire within me. "Yes, Toto," I breathed, surrendering completely to his control.

Toto's hand moved to my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze. "When we're alone, I want you to call me 'Daddy'," he said, his voice a mixture of command and affection. "Understood?"

"Yes, Daddy," I answered, feeling a thrill run through me at his insistence.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "Now, come with me.”

He led me to the bedroom, the dim lighting casting shadows that danced across his strong features. As we entered the room, Toto turned to face me, his gaze intense. "Strip," he ordered, his voice firm.

I obeyed, my hands trembling slightly as I removed my clothes. Toto watched me intently, his eyes darkening with desire. Once I was completely naked, he stepped closer, his hands skimming over my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You look stunning," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Now, get on the bed."

I climbed onto the bed, my heart racing with anticipation. Toto joined me, his hands exploring my body with a possessive hunger. He kissed me deeply, his tongue dominating mine, before trailing his lips down my neck and across my collarbone.

His touch was both tender and demanding, his hands guiding me into positions that left me vulnerable and exposed. "You're mine, do you understand?" he growled, his voice low and commanding.

"Yes, Daddy," I moaned, my body arching into his touch.

Toto's control was absolute, his dominance a heady mix of pleasure and power. He brought me to the brink of ecstasy over and over, his touch igniting a fire that consumed me completely. Each time I thought I couldn't take any more, he would push me further, his words a constant reminder of who I belonged to.

As the night wore on, our passion only grew more intense. Toto's dominance was unwavering, his desire insatiable. He claimed me in every way possible, his touch leaving me breathless and begging for more.

Finally, as dawn began to break, we collapsed together, our bodies tangled in a mess of sheets and sweat. Toto's fingers traced lazy patterns on my skin as he whispered, "You belong to me."

"Always," I replied, my voice a satisfied sigh.

Toto's hand moved to my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "Now rest. We have another race tomorrow, and I need you at your best."

"Yes, Daddy," I whispered, feeling a deep sense of contentment and belonging.

#fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #f1 #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #TotoWolff #smut #daddy k!nk #size k!nk #age kink #dom and sub

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

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JEWEL CONGRATS ON 1K!!!!! 🥳

for the event, could i request a drabble inspired by the song strawberries and cigarettes for yoongi (or any member you feel comfy with!) ?

tysm and congrats again!! <33

nixie! thank you so much for the request. i've been on such a troye sivan binge and forgot how depressing this song actually is, lmao. so i hope you like this! <3

smoke rings

pairing: yoongi x reader (no pronouns used) genre: vague established relationship; angst-y? i dunno warnings: unedited. swearing, cigarettes, mentions of being drunk, one mention of an implied hookup, the cops, wanting someone who's not good for you and may or may not actually want you back, etc. you know how it is sometimes. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 746

It’s always been like this with Yoongi.

Always a chase. You chasing him, him chasing you, and never at the same time. Timing never right. Always just off-kilter. Always a second late.

You’re used to chasing shadows. Used to chasing illusions, figments of your imagination. Desires. You’re used to chasing down dead-ends. Used to swallowing down one bad idea and chasing it with another. When you’re so used to chasing chaos, you shouldn’t be surprised when you finally catch up to it.

Like right now, when your hand is grasped so tightly in his you’re sure it’ll bruise. The two of you are running down some nondescript side street, lungs aching and breath materializing in front of you in the bitter autumn cold. Every so often he’ll slow down and turn back to you, the amber glow of the streetlights filling in the contours of his face. Those sharp cheekbones. He can’t seem to steady his steps, two left feet and all half-baked coordination as he smiles at you devilishly over his shoulder and winks.

Except, unlike all those times before, you’re not the only one chasing Yoongi.

So are the fucking cops.

Sirens whine in the distance, red blue purple lights reflecting off of every brick wall. There’s a threat looming around every corner, but Yoongi always peeks first. Always pulls you back at the last second. Every step has the keys jangling in your pocket, weighing you down, counting steps and seconds until you reach your car.

Ten, nine, eight.

It won’t be like this forever, you know. One day your youth will catch up to you and all that invincibility will disappear like smoke. What you have now will eventually be nothing more than a memory: you’ll forget how loud the sirens are, the names of the side streets Yoongi pulls you down, the sound of his footfall on the pavement. You’ll forget the way he smells, the brand of cigarettes shoved into his back pocket, whether the rip in his jeans was above his left knee or the right.

Seven, six, five.

What you’ll never be able to forget is Yoongi’s wild laugh cutting through the night. Loud because it’s right next to you, but still drowned out by sirens, boots on asphalt, the sound of your own laughter that dies when your car comes into view. A cracked windshield. You’re running out of time again.

Yoongi pulls the door open, falls ungracefully into the passenger seat. Doesn’t bother with his seatbelt, just digs out his cigarette pack and sticks one between his lips, still breathing heavily, hands still trembling. “Can you light my cigarette for me?” he asks, pressing the lighter into your palm. You’re shaking, too. Could barely get the key in the ignition and turn it over.

Four, three, two.

You flick the wheel once, twice. A spark and a flame. Yoongi leans in close, turns the filter cherry red, sucks in deep and lets it out slow. All of this is going to dissipate like smoke, but Yoongi’s smiling, cheeks strawberry pink, is close enough to kiss. It’d taste like nicotine, but you don’t think you’d mind the taste on him.

One.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says, rolling down the window to let the smoke out; parallels you aren’t going to draw. So you just nod, listen. Put the car in drive and keep your headlights off until you reach the highway.

Zero to sixty.

Another parallel.

The bag of sour candy spills all over the floor.

Yoongi laughs so hard he cries, clutches at his stomach. You try to hush him, try to pick up all the individually-wrapped pieces and shove them back in the bag, but it’s late and you’re a little drunk and the two of you got stuck with the worst fucking driver in the entire city. You lean down and the cab jerks to the left, and Yoongi grabs your forearm to steady you. Suddenly goes all quiet, and quiet scares you.

Because he’s touched you before. Like this, protective and gentle, a little yearning, but he’s also touched you more desperately; touched you hotter, more intimately. It’s hard to forget a touch like that, so a gentle, protective touch feels like something far worse. Yoongi knows it. Loosens his grip, walks his fingers closer to your wrist, twines your fingers together.

You wonder why you do this. Why you haven’t let it go.

Maybe one day you’ll get it right.

#work: 1kfm #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi angst #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #yoongi drabble #yoongi fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jewel writes #jewel answers

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miyamorana · 9 months

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Miya’s 2023 Fanfic Recs Part 3

Here are all the cool, complete fics I’ve read this year. Separated into 5 posts because there’s nearly a hundred of them.

PART 3: TELEVISION (16)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (2)

Julie and the Phantoms (1)

Merlin (5)

Sense8 (2)

Stranger Things (4)

Teen Wolf (2)

Part 1: Boku no Hero Academia (33) Part 2: Other Anime and Cartoons (20) Part 4: Video Games, Movies and Books (16) Part 5: Crossovers (11)

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Title: Seeing Is His Superpower Author: Shadowscast Pairing: Xander Harris/Spike Rating: Teen Word Count: 8,185 Summary: A post-Chosen AU in which Xander finds Spike’s amulet in the wreckage of Sunnydale. When he picks it up, something interesting happens…

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Title: Witch boy Author: applecrumbledore Pairing: Rupert Giles/Spike Rating: Mature Word Count: 12,730 Summary: Spike was an embarrassing memory tucked into the recesses of Giles’ brain along with other rare, sweet moments from his Ripper Era that he couldn’t leave behind, and instead pulled out of mental storage once in a while, dusted them off and luxuriated guiltily in the hedonistic days of his youth. Spike was a memory he hadn’t pulled out in so long that he’d forgotten it was him.

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms Title: Ghost Story Author: breakaway71 Pairing: None Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1603 Summary: Julie visits her mother’s grave on Halloween, and meets someone unexpected.

Fandom: Merlin Title: Theory / Practice Author: queerofthedagger Pairing: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Rating: Teen Word Count: 1,000 Summary: He had known in the same way that he had looked at Merlin on that first day in the market square, his clever mouth and dusk-sky eyes, and somehow knew him.Familiarity. His magic feels like that, too.

Fandom: Merlin Title: Oh Noble Hearts Author: queerofthedagger Pairing: Gwaine/Arthur Pendragon Rating: Teen Word Count: 1,700 Summary: The thing is, Gwaine may be a bit of a bastard, but he knows that it’s bad form to go around kissing people—especially people who mean something—when they are missing some rather crucial bits of information about you. Gwaine has a confession; Arthur, as so often, manages to surprise him.

Fandom: Merlin Title: Splitting the Road Author: queerofthedagger Pairing: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Word Count: 3,000 Summary:

“Emrys,” the woman says, impatient, and Merlin, well. Merlin reacts. Arthur wants to pretend so, so badly that there isn’t a pit opening in his stomach but— But. Merlin reacts, eyes snapping towards her, narrowing. Above Merlin’s head, the cold iron groans, a sound the way that Arthur’s heart feels.

Merlin and Arthur get kidnapped. Unfortunately for their captors, it really is a tremendously stupid idea to put magic itself into cold iron.

Fandom: Merlin Title: Detect Magic Author: Jabber_Moose Pairing: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 979 Summary: There’s a strange, shimmering blue orb above them, and the dark haired man’s eyes are glowing gold.

"Police say they arrived at the scene to find one of the muggers knocked out, the other dead on the scene,” Percy says. “The victim was being held by his companion, who was said to tell anyone who approached ‘You can cut me, bruise me, skin me alive, but you will not take him from me.’”

Fandom: Merlin Title: Long Enough (Forget Me Not) Author:Jabber_Moose Pairing: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1,595 Summary: Maybe the fates are telling him that it’s time to let go, that Arthur is not going to return to him. Maybe it is time to stop, for his own sake, before he has to deal with the fallout of forgetting.

Fandom: Sense8 Title: Worth It Author: FunkyinFishnet Pairing: Wolfgang Bogdanow/Kala Dandekar/Rajan Rasal Rating: Mature Word Count: 6,386 Summary: She visits Wolfgang, on his way back to the Paris apartment and concerned about Kala’s mood as she asks, “Have you heard from Rajan?” Wolfgang’s concern sharpens, “Nothing since the day before yesterday. He hasn’t called yet?” (The cluster mobilises to solve Rajan’s kidnapping, and Kala and Wolfgang think about him and their love.)

Fandom: Sense8 Title: I’ll settle for the ghosts of you Author: FunkyinFishnet Pairing: Wolfgang Bogdanow/Kala Dandekar/Rajan Rasal Rating: Mature Word Count: 8,894 Summary: When Rajan witnesses Wolfgang and Kala embrace, Wolfgang lifting her up off her feet while smiling more broadly than Rajan has seen so fat in the few hours that he has known the man and with Kala’s happiness seeming to make her face sparkle, he thinks, “Oh, I *see*.”

Rajan thinks Kala really doesn’t love him in the same way that he loves her, and there’s no way that Wolfgang can love him at all.

Fandom: Stranger Things Title: Deathbed Endearments Author: breakaway71 Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Teen Word Count: 2,074 Summary: Eddie and Steve have a heart-to-heart while trying to keep Steve from bleeding out all over the ground. Actually, Steve thinks it’s one of their better chats. He just hopes he lives long enough to remember it later.

Fandom: Stranger Things Title: More than They Make You Out to Be Author: breakaway71 Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Teen Word Count: 2,451 Summary: Eddie was never guilty of the things they accused him of, but that hasn’t stopped Hawkins from treating him like he was. Steve needs to make it better.

Fandom: Stranger Things Title: Color Correction Author: entanglednow Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Teen Word Count: 3,186 Summary: Steve can always be relied upon to help a friend out, and it makes a nice change to be the one with the answers.

Fandom: Stranger Things Title: Never Look Back (A Breath Away from Heaven) Author:breakaway71 Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Mature Word Count: 5,000 Summary: Eddie summons a traumatized demon to his bedroom. It was an accident, but it might also turn out to be the best thing he’s ever done.

Fandom: Teen Wolf Title: Next Thursday Author: wldnst Pairing: Danny Māhealani/Stiles Stilinski Rating: Teen Word Count: 18,210 Summary: In which Stiles Stilinski has a werewolf for a best friend, a support group for that, hot chocolate with Lydia Martin and Danny Mahealani every Thursday evening, and an extremely anticlimactic coming out experience.

Fandom: Teen Wolf Title: A Grimm Affair Author:oshjoshmgosh Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Word Count: 2023 Summary: Derek brings Stiles to an alpha convention for established packs. Or rather, Stiles brings himself along as Derek’s mate, in spite of the fact he will be one of the only humans present. It should be full of sane alphas, so what could go wrong? So what if he has to remind some overreaching wolves that Disney’s fairy tales were originally a lot darker, and that no one messes with Little Red Riding Hood.

#fanfiction #fanfic recs #buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #julie and the phantoms #jatp #merlin #merlin bbc #sense8 #stranger things #teen wolf

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sunrenity · 9 months

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butterflies ✶ enhypen ( maknae line )

s — enhypen get butterflies, either by seeing you or thinking about you. would they try to deny their feelings, or would they accept them?

p enhypen maknae line x gn!reader . g fluff . wc 782 (0.7k) . bookshelf

꒰ ☕ ꒱ a/n — here's maknae line <33

— read hyung line here.

김선우ㅤ✦ㅤkim sunoo

sunoo willingly embraces the whirlwind of emotions that swirl within him whenever you're present. initially attributing the butterflies to the excitement of friendship, he soon acknowledges their depth as shared moments weave a tapestry of warmth in his heart. engaged in this delicate dance of emotions, he seizes a moment during a group outing at an ice cream parlor.

amid laughter and the sweet scent of melting treats, you notice a playful smudge of ice cream adorning sunoo's lips. his lips, impossible to ignore, draw your attention with their awfully pretty appearance.

observing closely, you appreciate the nuanced beauty — a pretty pinkish shade that captures the essence of youth, each curve embodying the vibrancy of his spirited nature. the natural gloss, kissed by the sun's soft glow, is more than a sheen; it's a luminescent dew, like morning dewdrops that cling to delicate petals. it catches and refracts the sunlight, creating an ethereal play of light and shadow.

you can't help but notice the subtle sheen, a delightful effect that harmonizes seamlessly with the soft glow of the sun. there's a familiarity to it, and you realize it's your lip gloss that adds an extra layer of allure.

with a gentle smile and a playful glint in your eyes, you tenderly wipe it away with your finger. in that simple yet intimate gesture, as the butterflies reach a crescendo within him, sunoo surrenders to the sincerity burgeoning in his heart.

gazing into your eyes, his grin holds both sheepishness and genuine warmth. he confesses, "i thought these butterflies were just friendly fluttering, but i've come to realize they're more. they're for you, and embracing that feels kind of amazing."

양정원ㅤ✦ㅤyang jungwon

jungwon experiences the subtle stirrings of butterflies within him, akin to a gentle breeze, as the two of you seek solace in the tranquility of the park. the radiant sun, at its zenith, bathes the surroundings in a warm, golden glow, mirroring the emotions blossoming within him.

seated side by side on a weathered bench, surrounded by the whispers of rustling leaves and the distant hum of city life, jungwon grapples with these newfound feelings. he wonders if they are as ephemeral as the passing clouds above or if they signify the emergence of something deeper, something he's been hesitant to acknowledge.

as you share anecdotes and laughter, the realization crystallizes – he's had a small crush on you for quite a while now.

the sun, a silent witness to his internal struggle, bathes the scene in a golden hue. jungwon steals a moment, captivated by the way sunlight dances through your hair, igniting a cascade of thoughts and emotions within him. the butterflies, once confined to the realm of his heart, flutter with a newfound intensity.

with each passing second, jungwon musters the courage to articulate the unspoken feelings. he looks into your eyes, sincerity etched on his face. the words, long confined in the depths of his heart, find their way to his lips, "you know, spending time with you here has made me realize something," he confesses, his voice genuine and soft. "i've had this small crush on you for a while now, in this moment, it just feels right to say... i have fallen for you."

西村力ㅤ✦ㅤnishimura riki

riki finds the vibrant emotions within him reaching a crescendo as the two of you dive into the lively ambiance of a gaming arcade. the dazzling lights flicker and dance to the rhythmic beats of the games, setting the stage for a symphony of butterflies fluttering within him. unbeknownst to you, he has been harboring these feelings, allowing them to blossom like the digital fireworks that explode on the arcade screens.

as you both engage in a series of games, the atmosphere buzzes with laughter and the pulsating sounds of the arcade. riki, usually boisterous, discovers a newfound fascination with the joy reflected in your eyes each time you emerge victorious. it's in these moments, amidst the flashing lights and digital cheers, that he begins to realize his feelings may transcend the boundaries of mere friendship.

as the final game unfolds, riki, donning a mischievous smile, decides to orchestrate a playful twist. with deliberate ease, he allows you to clinch the victory.

the glow of triumph bathes your face in a radiant light, and he observes as happiness transforms your features into a genuine and luminous smile that becomes a moment of quiet revelation for him. amidst the lingering echoes of arcade sounds, he takes a breath, a heartbeat in the midst of chaos, and confesses, "i really wanted to catch that pretty smile on your face again. and you know what? i'm starting to think... i might have a little crush on you."

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libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

“Fool”

A Kelly lune sequence

Morning on this body decorate the ground, let bee.

With the bounty wrong. And thus singly well-conduct’s less?

Today when I be? Fool! Lights are much depends of hate?

Saw nothing let’s lay, and God stand, whatever I do!

Nor can body, we that all displease. The clubs no more.

If lowliness town! No, no, not I. But the lilies.

Should connected woes. A sheathenish. Bid me too near.

That which man may regard to Aristotle. For all?

Juan consent’—consent. Each other show’d with Ismail’s ours.

He fixed the class is fit to virtue prefer a spark.

Ah wanton music’s charming, which men vain., Cupid’s blood.

In our mothers also have our fame, it is vertue, truth.

Cite is, than his larger soul, like picture, how I love.

For Wit is foiled. Their create Ideas in their shafts.

And if his golden as a voyage or vessel lost.

’Er them gold, and fashion. Come in a grey hairs bid come!

Beams, but now she knew the true? When Julia did not pass.

I will not of Woman face; wit tempt further. The night.

Pardon where Vertue is come a library, and all be.

With muffled this glass. What still these Four which seem’d to bee.

Will be. Now for fear my Garment quite a paragon.

Since God is filled window blew bubbled, the long to light.

Come, Madam—hist! More bright like two people say his arms.

That was near history; but when my wings, to scold, but, ah!

And wonder in an evil sprite, and she queen they be?

Not that besides the ball. An Inner Meaning hello.

But, ah, Desire? Nonsense for ever see Brooklyn.

Now Juliana stung! Bats, blind, lest soil took pity.

Such a one Why will. Wherein with stamina so steals.

Cried. Towne fierce tears, of counsellors’ for malice still the Sage?

I must want to row; in thee, as swan or snow, his soul!

And I don’t make me this child, without younger brother.

But you in men. Albeit all; I could kill his child.

And so steal on peal, the grass. The photos anymore.

And thee afternoon the Sea? But bravest, with edge-tools!

Bid me through the destroyed. No one column; date, Falmouth.

But that I can’t but once. Fear she that Donna Inez.

Did not in looked pines. Smoking dress, often fifty rhymes.

I lost pulse of chromatical, but is fine-pointed.

Father blood, not knowledge. Was it outlasts in good nights.

Look we for words, the glow tells to retort the mart; swords.

Our state of youth: but, finding they feel? A Haire than one?

Dominion. Can everywhere, for a stone to pick up.

But sweeter stresses. These contented on Nelly Gray!

All your confounded fawn came troop, to hold the tulip?

The bee? And see how or what—I never has made up.

When a female. Him all within its grasshoppers warm.

And all the Seraskier. And Lilly, why man would be.

To this same heaven’s Angels known; and the fair. Your purse.

The work of you here? Inez were vanish: wept they grief.

Must I, who would refused it, and rain. Of burning Post?

As e’er begun. Hee will displease their midst of fellow!

He reader!—Because it but on pantaloons or booze.

The Madeira to the human fair! He would enter.

Wretched the woods were remains? As change she stand the branch.

Ashes to weary of love, give me now! With the true?

Indeed! Here, now, and on the drying through destroying.

Father cases, is the great word about his first-fruits.

The frock and rose. He too great with a heavy measure!

Charlotte, having now. What kind of his own nature light.

A still cries, Forsooth, let bee. And when they sought up true.

For half an honest speech. Or calm around, in shining.

And if the flowers. I’ll calls friend scrawled on the stomachs.

While Dame sans merci hath a far mountain posts themselves?

Such I grieve thee! Thou shalt not one of the wild bird’s wing.

Of polish fashion. Two signs o’er a flower and flow.

And grape could kill? As in the gaunt famine, and this whole.

Poor grapes is philosophic in our beauty, you know.

At my legs. The latest things are pretty child will spin.

Who was a fine,—even survive the motion. What sigh.

Love without desires. The quiet limits, but them.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #187 texts #Kelly lune sequence

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lazyboycentral · 1 year

Text

Yooo, let's talk G1 Climax 33!!

I. Am. SO FAR BEHIND on G1 Climax this year...just like I was with Best of Super Juniors. I ended up only watching matches I was interested in with BoSJ, and it looks like it'll be the same with G1. I'm probably gonna miss some bangers (apparently the match between Okada and Taichi was really good, but I'm not much for Taichi). So who WILL I be following?

From baby-boy A BLOCK, I'll be following Shooter Shota, Ren Narita, and Yota Tsuji. That first match between Umino and Narita was so explosive and full of energy; these two got that youthful hunger and it shows. As for Yota...I'll just say it man, I am straight up THIRSTING for this man. I've stated before that he's becoming my new wrestler crush, but now it's pretty much official. The glow-up he's had since coming back from excursion has done that man good. He's got that aggressiveness and confidence that's gonna make him a star in New Japan...which always seemed to be the case, as we now know all those mysterious teaser trailers we've seen since New Japan Cup this year were all about him. NJPW clearly wants him to be big, and I gotta say...they hooked me. That man can Gene Blast me anyday.

Okay, now that Sex God Tsuji is out of the way, let's blast through the rest. B BLOCK has all my favorite picks, including himbo supreme El Phantasmo, the ABSOLUTE PIMP Great-O-Kahn (all hail), the guy that nearly paralyzed Kenny Omega, and my favorite boy of all time, KENTA. Tanga Loa is here too, which while it's great to see him again after so long, that rough debut match he had with KENTA was...not so great. Hope his knee gets better. Plus hey oh wow, Okada is in B BLOCK! What a fun way to mix things up. I haven't seen his match against ELP but I remember thinking to myself "oh no ELP, I love you but this will not end well for you." I might be wrong, guess I'll see when I get to it.

C BLOCK and D BLOCK are just sorta "meh" to me. All the handsome mens are on C, my picks being David Finlay, EVIL, and Shingo Takagi (the most handsome one on that block, fight me over it). Eddie Kingston is also on C BLOCK which I admittedly want to see how well he does here. And Aaron Henare's new look sure is something, ain't it? It's very culturally significant and I'm happy for him, but I sure will miss that moustache. Speaking of, we got Alex Coughlin in D BLOCK, who's one of my favorites from the old LA Dojo days (kinda glad he joined Bullet Club and dropped that stupid "android" schtick...same goes for Clark Connors and his whole...thing). We also got Jeff Cobb, another crush of mine, as well as...the rest. I mean there's Naito and Tanahashi and Zack Sabre Jr...lots of legends here. But none of them really tickle my pickle the likes of ELP and Yota do.

So who's gonna win G1 Climax this year? Seems too early for me to tell right now, but if I had to choose, I'm honestly going with B BLOCK's Taichi. I couldn't give two shits about that man, but he's had such an incredibly strong start during this tourney that it's hard to see him not at least reach the finals. As much as I'd want to see Narita or Tsuji from A win it all, I find it more believable to see them at least make it to the semifinals. I'd love to see Kingston be the victor of C BLOCK, but I kinda want to see Finlay up there, since this "New Bullet Club" arc has been picking up lots of steam lately. And for D BLOCK...um...Toru Yano. Because it would be funny.

Also I'd want to watch NJPW Strong Independence Day soon because I missed out on it and also Alex Zayne was there and good god I miss that gorgeous man.

#blog post #njpw #new japan pro wrestling #g1 climax 33

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mtnkat3 · 2 years

Text

David against goliath.

1 Samuel 17: 32-58. [NIV. Daily Bible .com]

32. David said to Saul, “Let no one lose heart on account of this Philistine; your servant will go and fight him.” 33. Saul replied, “You are not able to go out against this Philistine and fight him; you are only a young man, and he has been a warrior from his youth.”

34. But David said to Saul, “Your servant has been keeping his father’s sheep. When a lion or a bear came and carried off a sheep from the flock, 35. I went after it, struck it and rescued the sheep from its mouth. When it turned on me, I seized it by its hair, struck it and killed it. 36. Your servant has killed both the lion and the bear; this uncircumcised Philistine will be like one of them, because he has defied the armies of the living God. 37. The LORD who rescued me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will rescue me from the hand of this Philistine.” Saul said to David, “Go, and the LORD be with you.”

38. Then Saul dressed David in his own tunic. He put a coat of armor on him and a bronze helmet on his head. 39. David fastened on his sword over the tunic and tried walking around, because he was not used to them. “I cannot go in these,” he said to Saul, “because I am not used to them.” So he took them off.

40. Then he took his staff in his hand, chose five smooth stones from the stream, put them in the pouch of his shepherd’s bag and, with his sling in his hand, approached the Philistine. 41. Meanwhile, the Philistine, with his shield bearer in front of him, kept coming closer to David. 42. He looked David over and saw that he was little more than a boy, glowing with health and handsome, and he despised him. 43. He said to David, “Am I a dog, that you come at me with sticks?” And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. 44. “Come here,” he said, “and I’ll give your flesh to the birds and the wild animals!”

45. David said to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. 46. This day the LORD will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds and the wild animals, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. 47. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves; for the battle is the LORD’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”

48. As the Philistine moved closer to attack him, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet him. 49. Reaching into his bag and taking out a stone, he slung it and struck the Philistine on the forehead. The stone sank into his forehead, and he fell facedown on the ground. 50. So David triumphed over the Philistine with a sling and a stone; without a sword in his hand he struck down the Philistine and killed him. 51. David ran and stood over him. He took hold of the Philistine’s sword and drew it from the sheath. After he killed him, he cut off his head with the sword. When the Philistines saw that their hero was dead, they turned and ran.

52. Then the men of Israel and Judah surged forward with a shout and pursued the Philistines to the entrance of Gath and to the gates of Ekron. Their dead were strewn along the Shaaraim road to Gath and Ekron. 53. When the Israelites returned from chasing the Philistines, they plundered their camp.

54. David took the Philistine’s head and brought it to Jerusalem; he put the Philistine’s weapons in his own tent. 55. As Saul watched David going out to meet the Philistine, he said to Abner, commander of the army, “Abner, whose son is that young man?” Abner replied, “As surely as you live, Your Majesty, I don’t know.” 56. The king said, “Find out whose son this young man is.”

57. As soon as David returned from killing the Philistine, Abner took him and brought him before Saul, with David still holding the Philistine’s head. 58. “Whose son are you, young man?” Saul asked him. David said, “I am the son of your servant Jesse of Bethlehem.”

~~~~~~~~

May I be confident & assured by Your Name Father!!!!!

To smite the evil in its den. hog. & the demonic force that whispers in his ears, controls his soul.

Now please Father Guide me in how to do so.

How to cut off the head of this serpent.

In Your Name... God. Jesus. El Shaddai. Father. Redeemer. Savior. Lamb of God. Rose of Sharon. Everlasting Peace.

Amen.

Please use me Father.

However You Deem.

Be that as Your warrior queen. As Your tool. However You Father want to use me.

Only Thy Will Father.

God's Plan. Time. Place. Will.

Bowed. Humbled. Scared.

Giving to You Lord my fears, insecurities, absolute terror of having screwed up with the mates You Created for my soul.

ABSOLUTE TERROR.

Teary. Wobbly.

Holding on tight to you . . . . .

If you want me to.....

Chewing lips bad.

I love you . . . . .

I am.

Yours . . . . .

God...please?????

Your complex quirky warrior queen daughter.

~Tijgeress kat Phoenix. ✝️☸⚓🙇‍♀️🙏🤲🕯🧭

⛓🧰🦉🐐🐢🐛🌱🌳🧶🧵

⌚⚡🌟🌠🗝🔱⚜💝🐻🦌🧩♠️♾

Tu.12.27.2022 9.15pm est.

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stargaze-sunflower · 3 years

Note

Hello! Could you do some Dewey and Louie bonding? Or maybe Dewey protecting his brothers? Your writing is amazing btw.

This ask is from way back when I was taking prompts sajdskj I'm sorry its so late but I dug up something that I wrote for the green beans discord and it sort of fit this so I cleaned it up a bit :]

The context is that Dewey and Louie have been stuck in a magical forest that shows them their worst memories, but it kinda starts near the end of that story so asjdkkjsa anyway I hope you enjoy!! <33

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

Dewey’s worst nightmare used to be Huey being freakishly tall, but now that he’d been introduced to freakishly tall trees in a disturbingly magical forest, he might be reevaluating that decision.

“We’ll get out of here,” Dewey said, softer than he might’ve, had it not felt like something was watching them. “We always get out.”

“Yeah, sure, we always escape magical forests that trap us and show us our worst memories,” Louie grumbled, sarcastic and defensive; tired and lost.

“You know what I mean,” Dewey said, standing up from where he’d been kneeling in a patch of bright green and glowing moss. He held out a hand for Louie to take. “We’re two-thirds of the Duck Boys, we’ll be fine.”

“It only takes once, you know,” Louie said, taking his hand and rising on slightly shaky legs. “And then always turns into sometimes, and my mental health will somehow get worse.”

“We’ll be fine,” Dewey reiterated, his chest squeezing a bit at Louie’s words, at the fact that he was so scared of sometimes. “I mean, we could probably use some help, sure. Or ideas. Or a miracle.”

“I’m afraid I’m out of stock,” Louie said drily.

Dewey laughed a bit, glad that most of the horrible tension from earlier had dissipated into something more manageable. Running from reruns of their worst memories until Louie collapsed into a panic attack had not been the fun adventure he’d been hoping for.

Still holding Louie’s hand, Dewey turned to take in their surroundings for what had to be the thirtieth time. There were trees as far as he could see, and they were taller than he could even fathom, so much so that he couldn’t see the sky, couldn’t tell if it was night or day. Patches of glowing green moss were spread haphazardly across the forest floor and growing near the bases of the trees. And speaking of trees…

“Do you think we should try climbing?” Dewey asked, his head tilted backwards at an uncomfortable angle as he searched for one worth a try. All the branches were at least twenty feet in the air.

“Nope, no. Absolutely not,” Louie said, tugging on his hand as if to shake the thought of it from his head. “I’d rather you didn’t fall and die, thanks.”

“Maybe one of those giant deer we saw earlier would catch me.”

“I don’t really want to see that either.”

“What? But it’d be so cool!”

“Do it on your own time, then,” Louie said, but a small smile was pulling at the corner of his beak, and Dewey grinned.

“That sounds like a challenge,” he said, teasing.

“That was the opposite of a challenge,” Louie said. “That was a thinly veiled plea to never leap into the arms of a giant deer.”

Dewey pouted playfully. “You’re no fun.”

“No, I just happen to have common sense and a healthy fear of injury.”

Something in the air shifted.

(“Fear, you say?”)

Dewey jumped about a mile in the air, startled, as Louie yelped in poorly concealed surprise. The voice seemed to come from all around them, layered and echoing and amused. Slowly, they turned around, and with wide eyes they took in the figure in front of them.

It was a child, glowing with the same light that had formed imitations of their family members just a few minutes ago. The child looked like a ghost, or a hologram, and despite its youthful appearance, Dewey got the feeling that it was older than anything he’d ever met before; ancient and magic and terrifying, like the trees surrounding them and the creatures they’d encountered throughout their adventure.

But it looked like a child.

The figure smiled, and Dewey blinked, feeling Louie’s grip on his hand tighten as they stared at the entity in front of them.

“Who are you?” Dewey blurted, forgoing a polite hello in favor of getting straight into whatever this was.

(“I am the forest,”) the child said, as if that were a perfectly normal and reasonable response. For their family, it might as well be. (“Why are you here?”)

“Trust me, I’d rather not be,” Louie spoke up, stepping out from where Dewey had subconsciously stepped in front of him. He gave the forest spirit a long, resigned look. “So if you could point us towards the exit, that would be great.”

(“There is no exit,”) the forest said, that amused undertone to its voice again, and then it smiled. (“But there is an escape.”)

“Okay, uh, can you point us to the escape, then?” Dewey asked, already frustrated by the word games the thing was playing.

The forest hummed as if deliberating, and the leaves around them rustled in an echo of it, low and haunting. Dewey felt Louie shiver.

(“It is something you have to find for yourself,”) said the forest spirit, floating forward a bit. (“All I can be is a guide. It is up to you, whether you leave or not.”)

There was a moment of silence, in which Dewey got the impression that the trees were breathing, or something equally as ridiculous.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Louie asked, growing bolder in his irritation. “We want to leave. Let us out.”

(“Freedom is not free, child,”) the forest said, for a moment sounding exactly as ancient as it really was. Sounding sad, almost. (“You have to give me something in return.”)

Dewey glanced back at Louie with a question in his eyes, and Louie just shrugged. Bargaining with the forest. Sure. Now he’d seen everything.

“What do you want?” Dewey asked.

(“An answer,”) said the forest, tilting its head to the side as it examined them. (“An answer to a question.”)

“Great,” Louie said flatly, exhaustion and resignation seeping into his voice. “Ask away.”

What Dewey had expected was some sort of riddle, or trick, or maybe an impossible task. What he got was something completely different.

(“What are you afraid of?”) the forest asked, and Dewey’s breath caught. The child frowned. (“No one ever tells me the truth.”)

“This has happened before?” Dewey asked, and the spirit shrugged.

(“I’ve lived for centuries,”) the forest said, looking around at the trees that were growing tall and proud around them. (“There are always those who wander.”)

“And do you let them leave?” Louie’s voice was careful in the way that meant he was scared. Dewey lightly squeezed his hand.

(“It depends on what they tell me.”)

Dewey swallowed, feeling the pressure begin to press in on him from all sides. He was the older brother here; he had to make sure they made it out.

“Okay,” Dewey said, after a few long seconds of eerie quiet. “I’m sacred of heights, and thunder, and— and rivers.”

He heard Louie’s rushed breath of surprise at his declaration, because there were definitely some things in there that his brother hadn’t known.

(“That is the truth,”) the forest acknowledged, (“but it is not enough.”)

“Why not?” Dewey asked, halfway to being offended.

(“What are you afraid of?”) the forest spirit repeated the question gently. (“More than anything.”)

“More than anything?” Dewey parroted, and the forest nodded. He’d never met a forest who could nod before.

Sighing, Dewey turned to look at Louie, who was staring back at him in resigned bewilderment. The glow from the moss cast him in an eerie sort of lighting, but he supposed it reflected the mood well enough. Eventually, Louie broke eye contact and sighed.

“Okay, sure, if we tell you our greatest fear, then you’ll let us leave?” Louie asked, apparently making sure that if he bared his soul, it would be for a good reason.

(“Yes,”) said the forest, simply. (“You will be free.”)

“Great, not ominous at all.”

“Do you even know what your greatest fear is?” Dewey asked, glancing at Louie over his shoulder. He wasn’t even completely sure if he knew his own.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Louie said absentmindedly, not meeting his eyes, and Dewey’s stomach twisted into anxious knots.

(“Will you tell me the truth?”) asked the forest spirit, and it almost sounded like it was excited. (“It has been a long time since I’ve heard honesty.”)

“It’s been a long time since I’ve practiced it,” said Louie, “but I’ll do my best.”

The forest nodded, something like a wry smile pulling at its lips. (“That is the truth.”)

“Thanks,” Louie said, and then in the same breath: “I’m afraid of being useless. Of having nothing to offer that makes me worth keeping around. I’m afraid of hurting people, of letting them down. I’m afraid that I’ll be left behind because I’m the only one who doesn’t always like where we’re going.”

Dewey stood rigid in the wake of Louie’s confession, his hand gone still and clammy in Louie’s tight, shaking grip. The weight of the words was not lost on Dewey, who suddenly had something new that he was afraid of. He never wanted Louie to feel like any of that was even possible.

“Louie?” Dewey’s voice wavered around his little brother’s name, but Louie ignored him in favor of staring challengingly at the forest spirit.

There was a long pause, in which everything was hauntingly still.

(“That is the truth,”) the forest said eventually, a bit of pride making its way into its voice. (“Thank you.”)

“Yeah,” Louie said, sounding equal parts fragile and relieved. “No problem.”

Big problem.

“Louie,” Dewey said, looking at him with confused, hurt eyes. “Why do you— You know we’d never do any of that stuff, right?”

Louie just shrugged, smiling a bit awkwardly.

“Somedays it seems more rational than others,” he said, and then, “It’s your turn.”

Reluctantly, Dewey turned back to the forest spirit, who was standing there serenely and watching them patiently. Right. His greatest fears.

“I don’t like to think about being scared,” Dewey opened up with, deciding to just wing it. “So I guess I’m afraid of being afraid. I’m afraid of missing out, being ignored. I’m afraid that no one will ever think I’m special or unique. It would really suck to be thought of as boring, you know?”

(“I do not know,”) said the forest spirit, kindness shining through its old eyes as it looked at him. (“But that is the truth. Thank you.”)

“Sure,” Dewey said, feeling slightly sick. “Anytime.”

“Though preferably never again,” Louie added, his voice thin and weak.

Dewey turned to look back at him, and found nothing but sadness and understanding in his gaze.

“You’re special, Dewey,” Louie told him, “and the fact that we’re standing here talking to a forest spirit is testament enough to the fact that you couldn’t be boring even if you tried.”

Despite himself, Dewey started chuckling, and Louie joined in with giggles soon after, all of the tension tumbling out of them in the form of laughter. The forest spirit smiled at them.

(“Laughter is rarer than honesty,”) the forest spirit mused. (“Or at least it is so where I come from.”)

“It depends on the person, I think, more than the place,” Louie said, and how did their lives reach this point? Making casual conversation with the embodiment of a magical forest. “Can we go now?”

(“Of course,”) said the forest, leaning back against a tree, seeming completely at ease. (“I told you the truth. You may go.”)

“Oka—"

“Why did you need to know our greatest fears?” Dewey asked suddenly, overcome with curiosity. “Are you holding them hostage now? Will we not be afraid anymore?”

(“I am a magical being,”) the forest spirit said, smiling up at the leaves above them, (“but even I cannot make you fearless.”)

“Then what was the point?”

(“To make you brave.”)

“Brave?” Louie asked, frowning a bit.

(“Honesty and Bravery are closely connected.”) The forest shrugged. (“To have any of either is to wear your heart on your sleeve.”)

“That’s another thing I’m afraid of,” Louie said softly, a bit wonderingly, and Dewey glanced at him sharply. “Being known.”

(“And yet you are,”) said the forest, glancing at Dewey and smiling softly. (“And you are loved all the same.”)

“I’d call that a miracle,” Louie said, a wry grin growing on his face even as Dewey squeezed his hand in a silent reprimand.

(“You may call it whatever you want.”) The forest around them began to change, the trees shrinking and shifting in the corners of Dewey’s vision. (“But I call it the truth.”)

The glow of the moss began to fade away, leaving behind a depressing normalcy. The trees had molded themselves into a mere shadow of their former glory, sunlight passing through the leaves that hung shortly above them. Before long, the only thing left of the magical forest was the figure in front of them, fainter and more translucent now that its home was back in… whatever realm it had come from; Dewey didn’t really know much about the logistics of magical forests and such.

“Bye,” Dewey said awkwardly, uselessly, and the forest spirit laughed brightly, eyes crinkling.

The laughter lingered even after the childlike figure had disappeared, until even that was carried away on the wind, leaving Dewey and Louie standing in a perfectly average sort of forest, staring at the spot where the last of their adventure had just vanished into thin air. Too much had happened in the past few hours. Too much to even begin to process.

“That was… something,” Louie said faintly, and Dewey snorted.

Understatement of the century.

Dewey opened his mouth to respond, but the harsh sound of the bushes to their right moving around pulled his attention away. Huey and Webby came tumbling through the underbrush moments later, looking wild and worried. Dewey and Louie turned to look at them with wide eyes, and Huey sighed in relief.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Huey said, rushing over to them to pull them into a hug. “Where have you been?”

“And why were you holding hands and staring at a tree?” Webby added, scanning them for injuries.

“It’s a long story,” Dewey managed, finally letting go of Louie’s hand as they shared a look.

“Yeah,” Louie agreed, looking back at their other siblings, “and we’re not telling it until we’re far, far away from anything resembling a forest.”

“The trees have eyes and ears,” Dewey said, nodding seriously, fighting a smile when Huey and Webby looked properly baffled now.

“And the forest talks like a poet from like, 80 centuries ago. I don’t—” Louie cut himself off with a yawn. “I don’t know. I’m tired.”

Hueys face softened into something concerned and caring.

“Okay,” said Huey. “Okay, let’s go home.”

The wind ruffled their hair gently as they were led back towards the Sunchaser, and somehow the rustling of the leaves sounded like a goodbye. Dewey looked towards the sky and smiled.

#ducktales #star snippets #louie duck #dewey duck #ducktales fanfic #ducktales fanfiction #i know this came out of left field asjdkkasj sorry about that #i wrote this in july during one of mine and cookies angst sessions JKASDJKDAS #i hope this isn't super confusing #also thank you for the prompt!!!! :D #it was one of my favorites ajkdsaj you guys know how much i love dewey and louie bonding #it was just that by the time i got to it i had run out of energy to write it #but this is already written so here it is #i'm thinking about posting these snippets on ao3 but idk if i should do it separately or as a chaptered work #yall i just really wanted to write a mystical magical forest spirit when i wrote this #anyway enjoy :]

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allforyoumylovely · 2 years

Note

miss u and ur writing so much <33 can i ask how the writing for hot boy spring is going? :,) if something has already been written could we maybe get a small sneak peek? 🫣💗💗

aww, i know i'm taking forever and there's still a bit of way to go but it's coming along 😌 i'm at 11k so far so there's something for you to look forward to.

and of course! here's a tiny sneak peek of what they're getting up to on Sander's birthday 🧡🌱

“Mr Driesen, you’re twenty-one today,” Robbe says, filming Sander on his phone from the passenger seat. “What are the secrets behind your youthful and glowing skin?”

It’s the early evening of Sander’s birthday. They’ve borrowed his parents’ car to leave the city and just drive around for a few hours. Rain clouds hang heavy above them. Yellow rapeseed flowers undulate, looking like little slices of the sun. Freshly bloomed spring leaves stretch toward the sky, eager for water.

Sander takes his eyes off the road and glances at him for a second. “Are you calling me old?”

Robbe grins. “Just answer the question.”

“Alright, the secrets behind my youthful and glowing skin,” Sander says and starts counting on his fingers, “are good genes, a limited alcohol intake, although that’s really my meds’ decision and not mine, and… lots of sex. That’s very important.”

“I can testify,” Robbe remarks.

“And waking up with the love of your life next to you. That helps, too.”

Sander feels tender fingers comb through the hair behind his ear, and when he peeks over, soft hearts have replaced Robbe’s eyes.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he smiles. “You look pretty good for twenty-one. And you’re hot when you drive.”

#sweet anons #hot boy spring

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httpsdenji · 3 years

Text

ephemeral

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader

genre: fluff, mf comfort bc don't we all need comfort hehe,,,

wc: 383

n: this has been in my drafts and i finally decided to sit down and finish it!! official third fic published on here lmfaooo. def not proof read so sorry for any mistakes <33

nestled on iwaizumi’s lap, you let out a giggle at your boyfriend’s immediate response of wrapping his big and tanned arms around you. it was like you guys were in your own warm bubble; the bonfire’s warmth kissing your cheeks as you rubbed your thumb on hajime’s hand. on the other side of the bonfire was the rest of your friend group singing and dancing loudly and without a care in the world.

your eyes watched the flames consume the firewood, pieces of glowing embers flying away. you sighed, leaning back some more, thinking about the future of your relationships. all of you were taking on different paths in life, whether it be going to college in a few months or moving across the country. wincing at the thought of never seeing your friends again, you glance to the side at your boyfriend.

a low rumble blossomed through his chest as he chuckled at makki and mattsun ganging up on oikawa (the latter shouting, “but i’m baby!”). hajime was nothing short of perfect with the fire pressing sweet light on to his tanned skin. he had a sharp scar piercing through his eyebrow from when you hit him in the face with a tennis racket while playing badminton in middle school (it wasn’t your fault that he was standing right in front of where the birdie was landing, and subsequently was met with your racket). his deep chocolate brown eyes were tender as he turned his gaze to meet yours. hajime leaned in, giving you a soft kiss on your nose which caused you to scrunch it up.

“what are you thinking about?” the ace murmured, rubbing the hand entwined with his rough one.

the moment was too soft to weigh down with the burdens of the near future. soon, this youthful flame will be no more and you weren’t ready to face that. one of your closest friends leaving to go across the world, no longer seeing these boys on a daily basis, and just your luck: your boyfriend and best friend leaving to america in less than two weeks. you just wanted to bask in the warmth of being around loved ones and the coziness of hajime’s arms.

you shook your head, letting out a soft laugh and replying, “just you.”

#iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #iwaizumi fluff #hq imagines #yuuwritingz

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Chapter 34

of the wwx emperor au I’m thinking of calling -- you know what? I suck at titles. let’s just accept the fact that I’ll slap something vaguely poetic on this thing when it’s finished, and that it will probably have no relation to the actual fic

About half-way to the Imperial guest chambers, it occurs to Wei Ying that he cannot simply knock on Lan Zhan’s door past midnight.

Lan Zhan had asked him to use the door, and Wei Ying wants to use the door, but he cannot. It takes a few moments for his pleasantly drunk mind to reconcile itself with the whole not using the door thing. But he still wants to see Lan Zhan. He wants to see Lan Zhan pretty badly. He wants to apologize for being stupid, although, at this very moment, he is not exactly sure what he had been stupid about. Probably a lot of things.

He sighs.

He also needs to apologize for failing to protect Lan QiRen. Lan Zhan had clearly told him that he does not want his brother or his uncle being hurt. Wei Ying had sworn to protect them both to the best of his ability. It does not matter that Nie HuaiSang had made the decision to decrease Lan QiRen’s guard. Wei Ying had promised. Protecting Lan Qiren had been his responsibility.

The horror he had felt, when he saw the Peach Blossom Pavilion on fire, cannot be described. If Lan QiRen had been killed, after Wei Ying had sworn to protect him-- he does not think that Lan Zhan would have ever forgiven him.

Still standing, stupidly, in the middle of the hall leading to the Imperial guest chambers, Wei Ying thinks perhaps his mind is not in the best place at the moment. He should wait and speak to Lan Zhan in the morning. He should not be stumbling drunk around the Iron Palm Palace, as if looking for Madam Yu to corner him.

But he wants to see Lan Zhan.

He remembers the absolute fury with which Lan Zhan had turned on A-Sang, the wild look in his eyes, the white robes flaring in an arc, blade flashing. Against the backdrop of the fire, he had looked coldly savage; an ancient immortal, an avenging deity too terrible to be gazed upon by ordinary humans.

In that moment, Wei Ying had been certain that Lan Zhan would not hesitate; that he would not let himself be restrained with such a simple gesture as his brother’s hand on his wrist. A-Sang would meet his end in that courtyard, and Lan Zhan would not stop there, but go on to carve a bloody path through every person in his sight, Wei Ying included.

The Peach Blossom Pavilion, its fragile old wood and intricately carved posts, dusty and forgotten, had stood for over a century, the Immortal Mountain City growing and spreading around its delicate shell. A legacy, left behind by the Immortal Empress, an arrogant girl who had thought herself so powerful that she had tried to rule over the cycle of life and death, nearly extinguishing the flame needed to form the Empire.

Her peach trees cannot be moved, altered, or destroyed. They are a lesson Wei Ying had been taught long before he understood what it meant.

But there is a much more subtle lesson in the Pavilion itself, a building even YanLing DaoRen could not bring himself to touch; the brittleness of family, home, comfort. How even the meanest creature will take time to burrow a hole in the dirt, then protect it with its last breath. The Immortal Empress had burrowed a hole next to her peach tree, then nearly given up her life to keep it intact.

Watching the Peach Blossom Pavilion be consumed by flames, used as a death trap for an honorable, righteous man, Wei Ying could not help but think that, if Lan Zhan had truly decided to kill them all, he would have been hard pressed to explain why they did not deserved it.

He leans against the hall arch, the stone cool and soothing against his skin. His mind is definitely not in the best place. But he still wants to see Lan Zhan.

Instead of heading towards the Imperial guest chambers, he turns to the door leading into his public study, a room he actively tries to avoid unless pressing business requires his presence. It is a bleak, cavernous space, where guilty men, often three times his age, would kneel on the marble floors, begging for their lives. He had not executed men often, even when they were indisputably guilty, but the few times he had were enough to make the space unbearable forever after.

There is one aspect of the study that Wei Ying does not hate, however, and it is the window hole leading out to the lower rooftop of the receiving hall. In the daylight, this particular portion of the roof is clearly visible from the entirety of the Iron Palm Palace courtyard. But during the night, it is a perfect starting point, no matter which part of the City he means to access. Some day, someone will realize that Wei Ying uses the tops of the courtyard walls as bridges to all of the surrounding palaces. The wall tops will be deemed a security breach, one that uncle Jiang will remedy without asking for his opinion, or his permission. But that day is not today, and Wei Ying has no intention of using the walls anyway.

The receiving hall roof curves to the east and west, winding around the palace, and Wei Ying counts window holes carefully, never having accessed the Imperial guest chambers in this manner before. It would just be his luck to drop into Lan XiChen’s chambers in error, or even worse, Lan QiRen’s.

He should not have worried. Long before he can be certain that he has counted correctly, he sees the flash of the white robes.

Lan Zhan had crawled out his window as well, and is sitting on the cold rooftop tile, the snow-white sleep robe pooling around him.

His hair is loose, a dark cape laid over the bright robe, and Wei Ying thinks he looks ethereal still, beautiful and aloof, not meant to be observed by lowly human beings.

Preoccupied by Lan Zhan, Wei Ying forgets that he is, in fact, more than a little drunk, and that he had forgotten to take his shoes off. The soles, not meant to grip the slick tiles, slide without a warning. He flails, nearly loosing his footing altogether.

By the time he has regained his balance, an act that was probably ridiculous to watch, Lan Zhan has noticed him and gotten to his feet. Wei Ying feels stupid, however, this has never stopped him before, so he crosses the last stretch of the roof anyway, but carefully now, minding his footing.

“Lan Zhan,” he says softly.

Lan Zhan studies him for a few moments, then lowers himself back down. Wei Ying takes this as a permission, and ungracefully sits next to him.

Something about the coolness of the night seems to magnify the scent of the sandalwood; it wraps around Wei Ying, smooth and warm, cutting through the chill of the north-western winds. He had come to apologize, but the right words seem to have abandoned him for the moment. Lan Zhan is perfectly still, a cold statue glowing brightly in the darkness. Wei Ying’s drunk tongue, unable to to properly ask for forgiveness, has nonetheless found a thousand poems at its disposal, each one attempting to give justice to Lan Zhan’s beauty, and each one falling short of the mark.

He does not regret coming to find Lan Zhan, but he does regret doing so with his mind less than perfectly clear.

Perhaps some other youth on some other rooftop can speak of marriage lightly, carelessly drunk on wine and beauty of the person beside them, knowing that the life they promise to share will be the one of comfort and safety. But the last few hours have made some truths starkly clear; Wei Ying has nothing to offer that does not come with its share of danger and grief. And Lan Zhan is no Nie HuaiSang, to find pleasure in the vicious court games, to smile politely while cutting with his words, to accept gifts with one hand while hiding a knife in the sleeve of the other.

He remembers Lan QiRen’s admonishment clearly, and wonders, for the first time, if Lan Zhan could ever be happy, married to Wei Ying.

The silence has now stretched so long, that anything said out loud may carry more than one meaning. Lan Zhan does not look as if he intends to speak at all. Coldly beautiful he may be, but at this moment he is also oddly peaceful, his breaths deep and even, his eyes half-lidded, studying some mystical point in the distance that Wei Ying cannot see.

Silence has always been Wei Ying’s enemy.

It is Jiang Cheng’s anger, grown too vast for words. It is Nie HuaiSang’s hurt, caused by his carelessness. It is uncle Jiang’s disappointment, shijie’s grief, Wen Qing’s disapproval. Things unspoken have always wounded Wei Ying in a way that no spoken word ever has.

Because long before he had learned their silences, and all the ways in which they brought him pain, there had been the silence of the Six Fans Pavilion, never again graced with his father’s footsteps. The silence of his mother’s chambers, never again to echo her laughter.

Silence had always meant loss.

But now, sitting next to Lan Zhan, wrapped in hushed tranquility, he wonders if one person can change the nature of silence forever. If one person can have such power, to transform this thing he had always dreaded to something bearable and peaceful, something in which he may find contentment.

As if hearing his thoughts, Lan Zhan shifts, a smooth, soundless movement that brings him ever so slightly closer. In the next moment, Wei Ying feels a brush of cool skin against his hand. A finger hooks around his own, and this time, it does not tremble.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #wangxian #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #short chapter #some drunk introspection #again a chapter in which nothing really happens #but some things happen #anyway #i'm looking forward to my days off bc work is kicking my ass #we're still on day 5 #but day 6 is unrolling #thank you for all the sweet messages #ily chickens

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widowsofchaos · 4 years

Note

Hey boo. I see your requests are open and I would love another medieval Bucky if you're vibing. Maybe something simple like Bucky cornering our reader in the corridor during a banquet and taking advantage of the distraction of the celebrations? Anyways, love you and your wonderful work.

❝ Forbidden Fruit

summary: as you mourn for the love of your life, unbeknownst to you, you catch the king’s eye.

pairings: dark king!Bucky x black!reader / former village witch!Wanda Maximoff x black!reader

Warnings: dub non-con, murder, choking, breeding .. ya know the whore vibes.

A/N: Requested by Roo, aka my wife — historical smut is our mutual kink. <3 another medieval Bucky?! Fuck yes. I’m drooling right now. And dark medieval Bucky?! A fucking wet dream. I hope you enjoy this, Roo. I wrote it with love. <3

p.s. I was listening to this medieval cover of Creep, and it just fit the mood for me. Medieval covers of modern songs is my JAM. P.s.s. I haven’t written in over two years so sorry if I’m rustyyyy <33

(Creep medieval cover)

Do Not Repost My Works!

Grief is a strange state of mind. You are alone -- loneliness constricts your soul -- in this world -- a blight of death lingers upon your days.

The stench of a decaying heart oozes from your pores, zombified mulling has become your stature -- living has now become a chore you could no longer bear.

Attempts to find solace in your small garden, or seek tedious conversations with your close confidantes -- Natasha, and Sharon -- in search of comfort -- but it was fruitless. Your soulmate was gone, burned into crisp.

Her brown auburn hair frayed in flames, her blood-curdling screams deafened your ears -- you can still hear her cries at night.

Hog-tied, and bound for a false crime -- the cheers and chants of kill the witch, kill the witch, kill the witch ring like crackling metal cowbells battering your eardrums.

The ashes of a smolder cadaver salvaged into an urn, tucked under your arm, scurrying in the dead of the night to bury her.

Dug a hole deep enough of a familiar grave -- tears watered the disturbed soil, as dirt and grit littered nimble fingers gingerly laid the urn to rest upon the coffin.

Here lies the brave warrior, Pietro Maximoff, a Slovakian immigrant, who died in battle in honor of King Barnes, now reunited in the afterlife with his other-half -- Wanda.

A brother and sister now soaring high among the clouds, two pure souls now cradled in the hands of the almighty Lord -- the heavens have gained another angel.

Putrefying flesh forced to be paraded in stitched elegant cloth crafted by your hands, forced to attend a banquet -- not just a regular fest -- no -- the young princess of the royal Barnes family has been wedded off, Princess Rebecca of Brooklynite now bares the noble title, Queen Rumlow.

The palace erupted in splendor, overwhelming in joyous celebration. The wind band at full swing -- drunk royal allies merrily wailing, and dancing upon the banquet floor.

By default of your entrusted role of handmaiden, and personal dressmaker of the youthful highness -- you were expected to make an appearance.

The atmosphere was flooded by a mouth-watering aroma, platters of cooked meals -- pig head, wild game, smoked fish, roasted peacock, cut steamed vegetables, sweetened desserts, and dried fruit coated in dribbled honey.

The Great Hall is decorated in silk curtains draping on the high windows, never-ending refills of ale, lively minstrels, and troubadours of noble high-regards. King Barnes will go above and beyond of excellent splendor for his sister.

The royal family is seated at the stretched mahogany table at the center of the corridor: King Barnes, his mother Queen Barnes on his right, his sister on his left. Beyond seated next to the aging monarch was the curia regis, himself -- Steven Rogers.

Swathed combed blonde-hair, piercing blues, sharp mighty jaw, magenta and navy color patterns resemble him to be a pampered aristocrat, but he holds himself to be a knight -- ready for the fight of honor.

A bitter taste lingers in your mouth, as you witness Steve shamelessly flirt with Sharon. It hasn’t been nearly a year since his “betrowed” Dutchess Peggy Carter has passed, and now he mingles with her youngest niece.

You often ponder if he used Peggy’s status to gain more of popularity favor, and her wealth? He does prance in fancier clothing -- besides the ones Bucky spoils him with.

You never brought the conversation to Sharon, fearing to offend her, and provoke her mourning of her great aunt. But the tasteless courtship nerves you.

King Barnes cheekily pecks his sweet little sister on the cheek as she sits by his side with a pure grin clasping onto her new husband’s hand -- as you sulk in the farthest corner, distancing yourself from the lively crowds.

If it was left to your decision, you would be isolated in your chambers -- drowning in your tears, and mead. It’s been three full moons since the passing of your lover, and the wound of mourning is still fresh.

You stole a glance at Rebecca, envy’s hideous head rearing -- why couldn’t you be in love? Why has fate -- the heavens -- have forgotten you so? The creamy white fabric sewn, and gracefully stitched draped her magnificently, her natural beauty gleams.

Skin as fresh milk luster within opulent cloth, satin silk embroidered with lace under the cuff. A lace trimming that separates the top of the sleeve from the bottom cuff which is adorned with silver and pearl brooches — as if you captured the twinkling night stars, shooting moonbeams and soft haunting orbs sunlight to fabric.

A sense of pride hummed over you.

At last, you buried the jealousy deep in your shattered cavity, genuinely happy that at least love still prevails.

Mindlessly plucking ripped pieces of fessant off your plate, popping it into your mouth, as the heel of your other palm propped you up by your chin -- hazily staring at the drunken fools berating themselves.

Your other hand flickering with your long braids -- fingers twirling, the curled ends grazing against your chavile.

Your brown orbs scan the room, hazily observing the charade, till you reach back to a giggling Rebecca -- your breath hitched.

Cerulean pools pierce through you, sternly unwavering. Five seats away from you is his Majesty himself, Barnes. Gawking at you intensely, like a wolf sniffing out his prey.

Your eyes widened, frozen in your seat. He lifted his chin up, his hues looking you up and down -- as if he was inspecting you. It made your skin crawl, immediately pulling your gaze from his.

Luckily everyone was drunkenly distracted, unable to see the king making daggers at you -- through your peripheral vision, he’s still staring at you.

Drinking from his goblet, above the rim was his pools peering at you. He finally tore away from you, at the very moment his sister, Rebecca tugged on his arm; hugging him. He caressed her cheek tenderly.

You nervously stand up, your shaky hands rubbing against your gown, drying your clammy sweat into the fabric.

Dashing feet snuck you out of your seat, quiet footfalls snuffed by uproarious chatter, and music. In a flash, you bolted out of the grand hall, exiting through a barren entryway; heading straight for your chambers.

Entirely missing Barnes’ amused grin, and arched brow. - Silence. The corridors were deafening, the only cadence is your nimble feet clicking against the pavement.

Splotches of ignited dimmed carnelian glow against your flesh gleaming a haunting sepia. Fingertips grazing against the stone walls to maintain balance from your tipsy stupor.

Confusion over-rides in your mind, why did King Barnes stare at me? So … intensely? Never has the king been so vehement before -- especially with me. Of all maidens, his attention falls upon me. Why?

Unanswered questions swirl in your head like furious wasps, stinging nerves throb painfully, soothing your temples by your tips, glossy quartz blankly glimpt at the lit torches nailed to the wall -- there she is. A small dark figure dances in the flames, thriving limbs swirl around; she’s in pain.

If you could just grab her, and keep her -- maybe she can sleep on a flower-bed, your own Thumbelina. Your heart aches, desperate fingers slowly try to touch the fire, but blazing heat torment you.

At last, just like before -- you couldn’t save her from her fate. The smoky figure stills, it waves solemnly, and simmers in ashes.

“Do you often stare at fire, my lady?” A husky timbre pulled you out of your trance, flinching at the sudden intrusion. Hot tears slip down your cheeks, quickly wiping it away.

Through blurry vision, shrouded in darkness, is Barnes. “No, your Highness. My apologies, I’ll take my leave now.” Fidgety fingers, and averted eyes, you turn to move away but he caught your elbow.

“Do not apologize, I’m sorry if I offended you.” Barnes pulled your body closer to him, offering a small smile. Both gigantic paws grip your elbows, “No, your Highness. You haven’t offended me.” You meekly spoke, a timid smile, shallow breathing.

“Bucky.” You snapped your head upwards, “Beg your pardon?” You quizzically question him, “I bessek you to call me, Bucky.” You gasped at him, soft shake of the head in refusal. His voice was kind, but it came off as more of a demand.

“Your Hig--” He glared at you, cowering underneath his intense stare, “Bucky, that would be inappropriate of me. It’s not my place.” He shushed you, his knuckles nuzzling your cheek.

“Tis only fair, we’ve known each other for a few years.” The spot where his fingers touched heated, tingling. Traveling the terrain of your face, fingers find refuge in your hair, toying with the silk ribbons woven within the braiding, intently inspecting.

“Rebecca’s gown is magnificent. Your touch is impeccable.” Twirling curled ends pinched between his fingers tips.

“I thank you.” You awkwardly lower your eyes away from him, his finger lifting your chin, “You’ve been crying.” His brows furrow, inspecting your sheen eyes. “Why ales you?” His palm cups your face, lowering his face closer to you, low pants of fear, you tilted your head away from him, a cough to cover the awkwardness.

“Nothing, Bucky.” You finally free yourself from his grasp, the brisk air from the open windows cooling your skin.

Walking towards the stone window, staring at the village located in the distance -- a burnt wooden pillar stood mockingly in the village square. Your facial lines morphed in discomfort, sobs wrecked your chest.

Bucky’s warm palms contrasted your icy skin, twisting you around to face him, “Please do not cry, such a beauty shouldn’t be pained with sorrow.” Bucky’s nose flared, his eyebrows twisted sympathetically. Cupping your cheeks, his thumbs swiping away tears.

Bucky slipped into a trance of adoration. You weren’t like the other noble women who would bleed themselves to achieve pale skin.

He can inquire of a memory of his former flame, Dutchess Dorothy -- who he fondly donned Dot -- who would walk weakly due to losing some blood. When he asked her why would she harm herself, she would tenderly reply, “Beauty is pain, my King.”

But you didn’t have to reach extreme techniques. No, you were a specimen of worldly beauty. “Bucky?” you tried to coax him out of his trance; his dilated eyes, and curled smile sent a shiver down your spine. Your dainty palms hold onto his hands, weak tugs to free your face -- but it is fruitless.

“Your Highness, please release me.” Your timid voice broke his haze, he growled lowly, “I thought I told you to call me, Bucky?” A grin, all teeth.

“My apologies.” Your watery eyes instinctively travel to your right, eyeing the burnt log standing proudly beyond the distance, hiding among the wild trees of the royal acres -- you sniveled a bit. A snort stralted you.

“A fitting punishment for such sorcery.” Bucky sneered, a smug smile as he stared out in the distance. Your eyes snapped back at him. Your nose flared, rage, and grief murking deep in your gut, strangling your spirit.

“I disagree.” Stern, and hardened. “Disagree?” Bucky glared at you, “A witch was among my circle, and you disagree?” Bucky’s hands left your cheeks, gripping your shoulders harshly.

“She wasn’t a witch, but a healing doctor.” You winced, earning a hiss, “You’re hurting me.” You cried, as Bucky towered over you.

His snarling face hairs away from yours, “Hurting you? Not as much as you have hurt me over the few years.” He angrily pleaded, pushing you against a nearby stone wall, his weight pinning you.

“How have I hurt you?” Your confusion befuddles you. Limbs wiggling under his clutch, like a hungry wolf, Bucky’s nose nuzzling your scalp, inhaling his sweet aroma of rosewater, and a twinge of spikenard. He grunted from the deep inhale, you stiffened -- truly terrified.

“Two years of desiring you.” His nose trailing from your hair, to the terrain of your forehead to your nose, heavy breath against your cupid-bow.

“Watching you being tainted by that sinful wench.” His hushed roar makes you whine, shutting your eyes as hot tears trail down your cheeks.

Bucky’s lips hairs-away from yours, “I remember when I first met you, when you were engaged to that local blacksmith, I felt immense rage.” He mumbled against your mouth, “How can a peasant have your hand in promise?”

You trembled in his touch, “--but I broke it off with him--” Bucky cut you off, “Yes! To be with that foul woman!” He nibbled on your chin, “I later saw the signs. I watched you glance at her. Lovingly. Remember the walls see all.” Bucky exhaled as he hovered his mouth over yours, the tip of his tongue tantalizing outward.

“Sneaky fingers reaching for each other. I am your shadow. I see what you do, even when I wasn’t around -- I have even watched you slumber a few times, I touched myself as you slept.”

He inhaled once again deeply with gravel. “I loathed her whenever she slept by you.” You were taken-back at his confession, Bucky leaned into your ear, “I have even witnessed you touch yourself in the dead of the night; you coming undone is such a sight.”

His husky timbre sent shivers down your spine, “I had to be rid of her.” That was the hay that broke the camel back.

Impulsively you bite at his shoulder, your teeth sinking into his flesh, he groaned but not in pain. He growled, “That’s what I love about you, my dove. That fiery bite.” You unlatched your teeth, you squirmed beneath him; he tightened his grip on you.

“You killed her! Why?!” you cried, babbling at your words, “Why Bucky?” Clinging onto the fabric of his silk robe. Tears flood your cheeks, dripping down your chin, Bucky’s unrelenting hands cupped your face once again.

Menacing oceanic meets fearsome brown orbs, brows furrowed -- the glow of fire above ignites upon him, illuminating a crown of malice -- the face of the Devil himself.

“I had too, my dove. At first, I was just going to make her spend her days in the dungeon. But then, those -- love letters, promises of running away. It gave me more reason to discard her!” Bucky smashed his lips against yours, all teeth and tongue. Gripping your jaw tightly, forcing you to open wide for his intrusion.

“That whoring wench was going to take you from me!” Bucky’s tongue dove inside your mouth, you gurgled in disgust as his tongue toyed with yours.

“I will burn down the whole kingdom in search of you.” Bucky declared. A wicked kiss of sin. Furious fingers tug at the hem of your dress, nails scrap your flesh as Bucky rips your bodice at the seams; your chest, and belly now exposed to the elements.

Your breasts heave free, and he licks his lips like a rabid dog. “Beautiful.” He mutters as you stand frozen in fear as if roots from the soles of your feet grew within the flooring. Bucky’s hands find your breasts, rubs his thumbs over the nipples, mixing with the cool air bellowing from outside -- your nipples erect.

Your heartbeat thrumming rapidly in your chest, a harsh rhyme matching the muffled cadence from the grand hall. Nibbling your neck, tasting the salt of your skin. Sneaky hands rummage through layers of fabric of your dress; Bucky knelt a bit to bunch your dress upward.

“Please --” You begged, more fresh tears brimming your eyes. “Silence, my love.” Bucky shushed you tenderly. He yanks your hosens, tearing the linen to pieces, exposing your mound. His knuckles glide within your velvet folds, his fingers soaking in your juices. Popping his fingers in his mouth, moaning at yout taste.

“Delicious.” He grumbled. You gain some ounce of confidence, moving your feet to dash out of his grasp, but you fail. You stumble on your feet, as Bucky man-handles you against the wall.

“Stop it!” He barked. Twisting you in his arms, maneuvering you around as your cheek squash against the stone wall. Pinning you with his weight, his chest against your back; his hand wedges between the wall pavement and your stomach.

You try to scream, but he quickly slaps his palm against your lips.

“I shall give you my seed. Let it bloom inside your womb.” Bucky rubbing your exposed belly, his warm breath fanning in your ear, “You will give me an heir.” You whined against his thick fingers squishing your lips shut, hot tears squeeze out shut eyes.

“You should be so grateful.” He hissed, slightly shaking your head by his grip, “Many women have tried to bed me, to gain the gift of carrying my legacy. But they weren’t you -- it’s only been you.” Sloppy kiss on your cheek, a string saliva trailing from his lips. Tiny sobs pull out of you.

With the same palm that was touching your stomach now slithers its way to his undergarments, detaching his robe, so he can have more of a spacious reign. “I can’t wait to feel you, my love. Feel your wetness soak me.” He hissed.

Harshly arching your back towards him with the guide of his hand from your mouth traveling to your pelvis, separating your feet by his. Both his palms cup your ass cheeks, separating to reveal the valley of your gaping asshole to your slit.

Clutching his cock with his thick fingers, stroking it a bit as he hedged the swollen tip against your slick folds. Leaning against you, securing you, Bucky thrusts himself deep.

No hesitation nor preparation for you to adjust to his size. You shrill at his fullness -- thick with girth, and mighty long.

“What a sight you will be swollen with my child. Your breasts --” Quickly groping your tits, “Will carry the nectar of life. Not only will my child fest from you, but so will I.”

You babble incoherently as he plunges. Sobbing at the stretch, hissing as warm liquid slowly trickles down your thighs dripping on the cold floor.

He can’t stop -- but it’s too impulsive, too thrilling. Your face is forced to tilt, facing him, sticky kisses, and moans. Your folds were fluttering, red wine stains his tongue as it plays with yours, husky gruff grunts against your gaped mouth between his fingers.

Moist slick gushing a bit from your pussy, coating his balls that slap against your swollen clit, you involuntarily clench onto him.

“Peach-sweet.” Bucky drinks, slurps your spit. A surge of euphoria surges throughout your body, shame floods you as your subconscious tries to float away to a lighter space.

Limbs go lax as you await the inevitable. An empty stare into his blue daggers, as if he wasn’t even there. Your nails digging into the gravel, futile escape. A sharp thrust against your g-spot made you cry out, breaking the daze of compliance “Don’t. Never try to escape me. You will feel everything I give you.”

A creek of a door halts Bucky’s actions, you try to scream, but Bucky shoves his fingers between your lips. A familiar drunken cackle looms at the end of the hall, “Your Highness --” slurred, and taunting. “--Finally claiming your queen.” Bucky snorts, your eyes close in shame, your immodesty exposed to another gentleman -- but it wasn’t just any gentleman, it was Steve.

Bucky tugs your mouth by his fingers, moving your face to peer in the other direction. You screamed, despite it being muted by Bucky’s digits. Your teary eyes pleading with Steve, but he all but ignores you.

“You couldn’t wait till you got to your chambers.” Steve teased, a grin on his flushed face. A feminine chuckle approach behind Steve, a twirling stumbling body leans on his bicep, “Stevieee…” Appears is Sharon, her face is flushed pink.

“Oh --” She covers her mouth with her dainty fingers, “Well, what an interesting sight.” A knowing smirk on her face, she turns to Steve, “Darling, I feel like --” She stutters, “What’s that Greek chubby winged baby again?” Steve turns to her with an adoring smile.

“The one with the bow and arrow?” She wobbles a bit, fingers sloppily mimicking a shooting arrow; your brows dented in frustration, and confusion at her ignorance of your defilement.

“Cupid, love.” Steve steadies her, she squeals, “Cupid!” Sharon grabs both of Steve’s hands, pulling him along down the hall, she tsks at your fuming eyes. “Y/n, you should be glad. If I haven’t told Bucky about the letters, you would’ve left.”

Your eyes widened at her words, your own friend betrays you. “Alright, Sharon, time to leave the love-birds be. I must take you to my chambers.” Steve guides Sharon by the elbows, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Enjoy, punk.” A friendly jeer.

“As always, jerk.” Steve winks at you, as he pats Bucky on the back.

You dry-heave a bit, Bucky removes himself from your lips, shushing you, “Shh. Just enjoy it. Look at them.” Bucky points to the couple fading down the hall. “Steve did everything in his power to be with Sharon. You honestly believe he loved Peggy?”

Your shoulders firm, stiffening by the truth -- “A drop of Hemlock. A little favor from Dr. Banner. To everyone it was a weak-heart, to us” A flair of his wrist, “-- a mercy killing. She was old, and tiring.” Bucky gave you a small kiss on the cheek, stunned as you witness the confession of murder.

“Murderer.” You hiss. Bucky’s eyes hardened, “It’s not my only slaying.” He simpered, he snapped his hips against yours. You wail, bearing his teeth, “How you warm my cock. Soon my bed.”

Furious pasts, your body jolting against him, resuming his torment. As if your body wasn’t on display to his confidante, and your former friend.

A coil is slowly burning, and rolling inside the pit of your belly, no longer to hold back your cries. Teasing, stroking you to a dizzying climax.

Loose hands roaming your body, Bucky’s smug smile at your compliance, a delicious push. Heat blossoms in his eyes, “I love you.” It was breathy, and soft.

Erratic sloppy thrusts, your hips matching his -- reaching for that high, months of no touch. You should be repulsed by his, but just for this moment in time, you can pretend.

“I --” Pretend it's not his hands, a blurry vision of familiar brown locks, a strong Slovakian timbre of sweet whispers, “--I--”. Bucky urges you to say it, “Say it.”His voice hoarse, raw. Sweat beads at his brows.

You don’t hear him -- a kinder voice flows from him, morphing into the woman you mourn, and probably mourn for the rest of your life.

“Let go, moja láska.” Hot tears fall down your face, colliding down your chest. “I love you.” You shrill, you cum violently upon him, spraying the floor and his clothes, your thighs shaking and covered in slick. Bucky roars into his orgasm, painting your walls white.

Kisses on the nape of your neck, scarred, broken. “By fall, you will rule by me. Hopefully by then, you will be carrying my babe.” Bucky hummed, kissing you non-stop. But, you don’t hear him. You just keep hearing the ringing in your ears, the distant fog of Wanda’s voice fading into the darkness.

Gone.

Forever.

#buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff angst #medieval au #king bucky barnes #king bucky #dark marvel

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worldcakecakecake · 3 years

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Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth, we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule, go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46I Chapter 47 I Chapter 48 I Chapter 49 I Chapter 50 I Chapter 51 I Chapter 52 I Chapter 53 I Chapter 54 I Chapter 55 I Chapter 56 I Chapter 57 I Chapter 58 I Chapter 59 I Chapter 60I Chapter 61 I Chapter 62 I Chapter 63 I Chapter 64 I Chapter 65 I Chapter 66 I Chapter 67 I Chapter 68 I Chapter 69 I Chapter 70 I Chapter 71 I Chapter 72 I Chapter 73 I Chapter 74 I Chapter 75 I Chapter 76 I Chapter 77 I Chapter 78 I Chapter 79

Yes, yes, yes! I know, it's extremely late! But you have to understand that I am going through A HELL LOT right now. I am working on an important qualification here in Berlin, so basically studying, plus working, plus German classes, and my school will force me into a volunteer program soon...so that’s more time out from writing. None the less, it does not mean that I will abandon any projects, just know that it could take some time. I wrote this chapter in three different locations since I was moving a lot these last few months :’D Another reason why it took so long. As always, all I ask for is patience, updates will come, I am determined to finish this, especially when we are so close!

But oh boy...chapter 80...sometimes I never thought this story would get so far...but here it is! Enjoy!

Chapter 80

All Ludwig needed was a simple day of resting and healing. Afterwards, he was heading out of his ward, tall, strong, fixing his hair and buttoning his jacket as the regular business of the day. Feliciano hadn’t stopped crying, constantly asking those around to remind him again that he was indeed…alive. He waited before the room, ready for the embrace that came, tight and loving as the one they had shared before the castle when Ludwig turned back. They would have stayed in this bliss forever, if it wasn’t for an annoyed cough and the applaud and giddiness of a child. Yet in their sway, they turned to spot Lovino, who shone with a gracious smile despite, the very one Augustino alighted the hall with as he was held at the hip.

“Reminder that there is still another 900 meter tall monster rampaging across Spades, soon to make entrance into Diamonds and well…we should be doing something about that.” He spoke the words with such normality as if he was talking about what he had for breakfast that morning.

“Where are we to meet?”

“The usual place, doofuses,” rolling his eyes and moving away. Augustino waved and the couple smiled at him as promise that they would follow.

They departed, but keeping yet a hold of their hands as they now met a hurried pace with the rest of those who quickened in the halls with the continuing business.

“All right, were back at this. What has happened?” Ludwig asked with the serious intent he wanted to stay dedicated to despite where he just came from.

Truly like he had never been gone.

Feliciano couldn’t help the sudden smile, the tightening of his hold, before he had to breathe it all out and bring forward the seriousness this matter still meant. “The Club kingdom is utterly destroyed, as well as much of the Southern Hearts and Spades kingdom. Khaos took the west to the Spades kingdom, while Destro went on to the east to the Hearts kingdom.” Feliciano was determined to keep this entity separate from Ludwig. “Many of the refugees are here in Hearts under our protection or in Diamonds under their crown.”

“What are we to do about the lost territories?”

“I have a plan that I prefer to discuss in the meeting with everybody.”

“Where is Khaos now and what is he doing?”

“The last messengers arrived this morning saying that Alfred is preparing himself to defend his capital. Arthur and Yao might leave to join depending on what we decide to do now.”

“And what are we deciding now?” Ludwig asked just as they arrived before the current meeting room.

“They’re waiting on us for that,” Feliciano said just as he pushed upon the doors to make their entrance. And to Ludwig’s big wonder, they all stood with brightening smile like stars, glimmering more with whistles and applauses, many with grins that Feliciano hadn’t seen in a while. Ludwig blushed and held ever tighter to Feliciano, showing a prideful smile that told Feliciano enough about how he was there and how it made him more than joyful.

“Enough of this! We have to act immediately!” Louis shouted, forcing guards to push the King and Queen in and slam the doors behind them, a sort of alarm that brought them back to the stage of it all.

“I’ll be honest…I never thought I would one day say this, but, Ludwig, Feliciano, we move at your command. What do we do?” Roderich stood, ready and surely with calls to initialize the use of his power.

Many in the room already adorned armors and shined with weapons, ready to head out that instant to act on a battle they believed now was truly for victory. And Feliciano thought it perfect and with a shared glance to Ludwig, he knew it was the same sentiment.

Feliciano took a deep breath, taking and leaving his hold with Ludwig’s hand to place them on the table, the simple gesture commanding and confident. Ludwig was rather startled at seeing it, but he was more than content, letting his husband take it all as he wished, trusting and knowing that all the power was in his hands.

“We are taking everything back. Elizabeta, Arthur, Lili!” All three turned simultaneously. “You are heading back to your kingdoms and you are going to restore everything.”

“Excuse me?” Elizabeta questioned, almost insulted.

“I don’t think you’ve read the recent reports, but they’re poisoned lands with nothing we can do to change it,” Arthur cleared with hurt.

“But we can change it!” Feliciano determined, a height in his voice that seemed like it had echoed all across the castle. He stood up yet again, starting simply with a breath, a meet in his magic to reach, to call. He glowed with marks, powerful and all felt inclined to bow. Yet they didn’t, frozen by the wonder.

Feliciano didn’t begin to glow in red, to their surprise, he glowed in green, completely taking him until a different voice called from his mouth. “Elizabeta H��derváry and Roderich Edelstein.” Potent and god-like. Both the Queen and Jack trembled at such a force. “My chosen. Come forward and you shall receive my blessing.”

This was not Feliciano…and Elizabeta and Roderich shook as they moved forward. Despite, they felt a great presence in this being, a refresh in their body that alighted and cleaned them of all kind of turmoil that had inhabited them for months. The closer they came, the more at ease they felt, with bravery to stand straight and unafraid before whoever currently took Feliciano’s body. Feliciano raised his palms to them, Roderich and Elizabeta knew by instinct to show their own palms, feeling a spike in their magic unlike anything. Not even the magic they felt in their crowning ceremony felt like this.

They were given a new source of energy, an unthinkable power that was not at all of their world…but had created it. It was then that the voice seemed to introduce itself with the power, making clear its name as all was left in their hands. With it, they were given knowledge of its use, like it had been a part of them from always.

When Feliciano moved back, they exhaled, at peace, smiling, the couple exchanging glances with enough understanding that was ready to act that instant. They gazed back to any Clubian soldiers in the room, and with a silent command, the soldiers knew to mobilize, all the Clubians in the room marching off, leaving the other inhabitants of the meeting lost and perplexed.

Feliciano reverted back to normal, lights dimming and standing with only his usual childish smile like he had been exchanging some innocent secret of youth. Ludwig still did not understand what was going on, but joined in that smile, still believing and trusting. But quickly he alighted again, this time in blue, a new voice, this of a woman, a call to Arthur and Yao that had them following as they had seen the Clubian royals. And there, as they went through their own exchange, did they understand their mission, the plan and how the future looked brighter. Like Roderich and Elizabeta, they nodded with a glance and all the Spadians left. Lili and Vash took their same responsibility as Feliciano alighted in yellow, taking their action like the rest with a simple leave.

Those who were left in the meeting room were yet dumbfounded.

“Uh…excuse me, but…what do we do?” Kiku brought to question.

“The same as everyone else. First, we heal our kingdoms, we rid of the poison, we bring our people back to their homes and to their normal lives, to their crops, their art, their families, their everyday lives that kept peace. We gather our surviving soldiers and at my command, we head and face Khaos.”

Simple, straightforward and leaving everyone without a dare to question further.

“Amore…how exactly do we do that?” Renata still found it unthinkable, to bring back their lands as they were before.

“Don’t worry. Remember, I have the hand of creation…also Nonna is going to help us,” with a comforting smile that twisted then to a powerful grin, with a sway and jump that was just…not Feliciano. His eyes turned to a crimson red, the purest form of their kingdom color, presenting clear who it was that spoke now.

“Nice to see you back, Ludwig dearie.” A woman’s voice, with a care that was familiar and belonging. Ludwig bowed, knowing who he was addressing and knowing well to show his respects. But she was gone in just the same twist, having Feliciano back to lead.

“Follow me, we act now.”

They were all out of the room that instant.

As commanded, they all took their trip to the poisoned lands of their respective kingdom. All had blackened, anything that once stood grounded down to the floor in a stench that wanted to rip at the pristine silks and metals of the royals’ dresses. Ellizabeta walked these lands with a head held up high, as if it was the garden it had been before. She was barefooted…but they shined in protection, everything under not giving her a cut or a bruise. The soldiers behind her were aghast, yet they dared to follow behind in wonder, their own armors shinning beautifully under whatever shine Elizabeta and Roderich gave them.

Elizabeta stopped to breathe it all…and she smiled, peace in her expression even as they stood before the most deteriorated her kingdom had been. To make things more confusing to the soldiers, Roderich took her side with the same ease, grasping her hand and smiling at her with bright confidence. They both gazed forward, closing their eyes and they began to glow in a rare transparency of colors, not green as they had expected.

Something expulsed from them as they breathed, the light around them spread, slow, gentile, but living and rapid. The soldiers grew in wonder as they saw that ground that the light reflected began to rumble with life, purifying the dirt and letting actual brown healthy earth appear. Such mundanity made some of them already laugh. But the excitement did not stop there , for in that earth, little sprouts of green, with small leaves, began to grow in an impressive rapidness, coating more and more until the land under them was as green as it was before.

To the soldiers, who had thought all their land lost without a way of returning, it was worth of celebration, some shouting, whistling or jumping. It was the perseverance that made Elizabeta and Roderich’s smiles grow wider. They shared a wink, which already made an agree, and so they breathed in much more, letting that light grow and grow, more of their nation green appearing in their land, bringing with them trees, stone…perhaps a twist of new that Roderich and Elizabeta created from their inner creativity.

A new flower, a new route, a new curve to old streams.

In Diamonds, Lili stood at the long shores of her kingdom. The sea had darkened, coating the shores in its misery, away from the beautiful golden it had kept for so long. Sure, her kingdom had not been destroyed as the others, but the royals knew well to fix and protect what they could.

She had been instructed…by Jabbar…Ace of Diamonds. She felt him still in the power that flowed in her blood, still teaching and lecturing every move, how each point of energy was supposed to be flowed and how to release it all to the image he made in her mind. Yes…she would create it, she would call for it.

She wrapped her arms around herself, with her breath, the winds around her became stronger, the waves began to pulse along with her heart and she opened her eyes. Like a breath, she could control how they moved, how they shone, beginning to give them back, slowly, their natural blue.

In Spades, Yao could finally get the ground to still, to stop the shakes it had taken, letting the crumble finally halt. Arthur stopped the storms, for the first time bringing this part of the kingdom the natural light of sun.

It was done simple, as easily as a snap or a step.

Arthur and Yao had put their hands upon the ground and in their spread, they brought back the deep blues of the tiles that had been there. One by one they came back, growing just like the dirt, the flowers and grass that laid between them, up to the trees, the houses that had been there, even whole mountains began to wake back to color. Yao intensified that spread, wanting to cover the whole valley. Arthur aided him, adding to the push that could extend to all the crevices, to every single wall, well and plaza that had made it once splendor.

None of the royals could only keep it to their place. They had to move, spread, fly in the process if they had to. Elizabeta swinging through thicket of vines, with each pull bringing back ancient large trees that covered well beneath them in green life. Lili skipped by the shores as she brought back its gold, adding shells and shine that made it all the more pristine. Arthur enjoyed shooting from the tall perks of mountains, running it all like an orchestra under his command. Feliciano, created music, he brought all the canvases he had ever made to life with the brush of his hand, mind and even his dancing steps as it stabled the ground, bringing back their famous pillars, architecture, sun kissed homes, their vines, their abundance of fruit and the colors that made Feliciano’s smile grow the more in its everlasting sunshine.

It was starting to look just like home again.

Ivan at one point had shed tears of relief, kneeling down to the ground to embrace the ground, with the greens he had never known he would have missed so much. Francis could now intensify the kingdom’s defense, a beautiful diamond wall shinning well, keeping the peace and life behind him. He let himself tower tall, like he himself was a shield that would be impenetrable to whatever Khaos would throw. Khaos wouldn’t stand a chance anymore, Francis smirked to himself. Alfred, atop one of the kingdom army dragons, actually cried as he began to lead people back to their homes. Many shouted in celebration, but others still paced with panic, those especially that currently still ran away from the threat of Khaos still in their lands, but now they actually seek refuge in their own kingdom, by a powerful king, queen and jack that healed their home with surely the help of Aces. It was just a miracle how the power, the control, seemed to move the very ground to their bidding.

Many families returned to their homes to find it standing just the way they had left it. Many wept, finding it hard to believe that everything was there…back.

And Ludwig, Ludwig rode on confidently on the back of a St. Mark, staring up to his husband, his beautiful, cheerful and powerful, daring, incredible husband, as he himself called upon vines and trees to arise from the ground, taller or just in their same glory with nothing to make different.

Finally, finally, Feliciano had let the harp free, letting it take its large length, only to play, from the melody, whole new colors coming, bringing back a symphony of red that all sang along with. The air arose with freshness that all wanted to doze with, lay in its rest, confident that they would be safe. Feliciano heard as laughter, cheers, celebration, joined this new music he made, and he would smile down to Ludwig, glad for the shine in his blue eyes and just the hope and restoration in the views between them.

Now this…was a world they could proudly show their children one day.

But as the royals of the four kingdoms completed their healing, they met at a point where the darkness was at its strongest, where a fury continued to rage and roars still echoed across all their near distances.

Khaos was still alive, still destroying, and they had all met where it was time to face him…and end him.

They had taken camp, proudly the flags and shields of all four kingdoms shinning together in the small rotunda where they all watched as he ravaged on in his inferno. All the soldiers that were in charge of holding him for now had been evacuated, only a powerful shield, with the help of all four kings, over Khaos’s sky as he slashed and scream without a single consciousness of intelligence. They wondered if he had seen how they led the remaining soldiers away, if he knew how powerful they were, how they have healed the world behind him, that Ludwig was back and Feliciano possessed the power of the alignment along with so much more.

His immense figure didn’t seem so powerful anymore. Kiku raised his hands and could squash him between the pinching of his fingers.

As if it was as simple as that, Feliciano couldn’t help the chuckle.

“What’s our strategy now?” Elizabeta asked with serious intent, a large and heavy sword in her hands that was utterly eager to begin cuts and slashes.

Feliciano sighed, in that deep breath bringing with him seriousness, shinning so much more mature than any had expected. There was a new amber in his eyes that made him so much older and braver, almost exactly like the images they had been taught to believe of Romulus.

“We take each a direction, you know what you have that is powerful, use it, at all the forces you can call on, weakling him, acting before any throw he can give. Now, whatever he attacks us with, is nothing.”

Another screech that had them all turning, yet they listened on. For once, with Khaos acting his vengeance behind them, they were not afraid.

“Diamonds, North, Spades, West, Clubs, South and Hearts, East. You have already been granted protection from the alignment power I will use. Do not be weary of it. No matter what happens, I won’t let anything happen to any of you.” Sure and a decree that was high. Feliciano didn’t have to say it for the rest to already know it.

Pookie, who had taken his large form, stood ready by Feliciano, with a stance that instantly reminded Feliciano on the grand images they made of his great grandparents riding these very creatures. He petted him lovingly, trying to see, to believe that he could make his own images worthy of being painted on the ceiling of churches.

“So…do we just start?” Vash was suddenly hesitant, after that show of strength, he started to shake.

“Scared?” Roderich teased even as he himself began to tremble, all slowly noticing it as well.

“I thought we were done with that,” Yao scolded.

“I’ve seen everything fail, everything crash down right before we believed, we had hoped and thought we could make a change… what if this is but another of that?” Vash went on.

The silence he brought made all explore these very words, a falling to them away from the power of gods they currently possessed.

“I…I fear the same things,” Ivan…the tallest and biggest of all, the one who they had though would smile his vengeance as he bloodied Khaos…trembled and kept a heavy grip on his staff.

“We haven’t even begun,” Ludwig tried to make them realize.

“The most important battle is yet to take place,” Lili joined her cousin.

“What will make this one stand out?” Alfred wondered.

“It will be the last,” Francis assured.

“I’m tired of having lasts,” Arthur complained.

“Francis is right though,” Feliciano interrupted, mighty and high to get them all to stop, to leave a silence to listen. “It will be the last…” he was sure this time, taking steps forward, all parting to give him a space they felt was too heavenly to touch. “Hear me…” he called out…not just to the royals, but all, absolutely all that were there. “…Hear me…hear me all this very instant!” He commanded with a piercing anger that left some trembling by Feliciano instead. “It is not only Kings, Queens and Jacks that stand here today! Look behind you!” He spread his arms to the still surving armies under them. “You have the entire might of all four kingdoms here! And do you want them to see this…scared and disgraceful leaders with nothing but the armors they created? No!” Shouted like he had been insulted. “No! They see what all our kingdoms represent. Power, Wisdom, Trust…and love…” Feliciano took this opportunity to gaze to all, their attention well taken, the words being well planted. “They will see what these very stances give, power granted and given by the Aces! They will see us fight, they will see us bring Khaos to his knees and then for sure our world will see that we are not a force to be fooled with!” Feliciano saw as the ground seemed to be raised under them, just with the strong belief in their eyes, standing tall to surely meet the fiery eyes of Khaos.

“The Aces have chosen us…we are the ones destined to make this battle, to make this war…and here, as it will be written about us…will we end this all.” With intent to kill, to finish. There was now no more space to doubt, to hold it, they all stood ready for that very finish. “My Clubians…My Spadians…My Diamonds…My Heartians…remember…we do this for glory.”

A sudden shrill, and yet no one flinched.

Some raised their weapons high.

“For honor,” Ludwig was relaxed, but just as potent as his husband.

“For riches!” Abasi shouted high somewhere in the crowd, getting many to join in his shout.

“For the gods!” Antonio bellowed from the perch of his animal, with him hundreds to join in flight.

“Yes…this…this is it,” Francis raised, along with the magnitude of this crowd that made him feel like the earth of the entire world was to trample over their foe now.

“The Aces are here! They are at our side!” Roderich knew as he joined in the array around him.

“For Clubs!” All the greens shouted as they made their movement to take their south, their colors and flags high.

“For Spades!” Arthur and Yao led to their west.

“Let’s bring this motherfucker down!” Alfred just had to add as he joined the flight with the dragons of their infantry.

“For Diamonds!” Lili, raising a hand full of bright and dangerous magic. To the surprise of many, she was the one that gave that loud shout that pushed the forces of her kingdom to the north.

Ludwig, Feliciano and Kiku stood yet, wondered like children over all the action that decorated even the skies. Khaos’s darkness was nothing compared to the festiveness of their colors as it began to tear about the void. Even so small, the Heartian royals felt taller than everything.

“For Hearts?” Kiku raised magic, Ludwig raised his sword, looking both to Feliciano for his own decree.

Feliciano breathed in and when his breath escaped, he turned with glowing marks, a golden halo coronated him, wings released, eyes a deep red, power beginning to ooze from him, and his two companions smiled as if they had always knew this as him.

“For Hearts!” And he raised the harp, growing large to the desired length and comfort of a bow, Pookie leaning ready for his seating and thus Feliciano took that perch, motioning for Kiku and Ludwig to join him as well. To Pookie, especially in this form, their weigh was nothing. He just as easily sprinted high, to join the rest of the force that created the population of both the earth and sky.

Feliciano lead them in their direction to the east, coming close to Khaos, who stood in his place surely wondering over all these pests that suddenly came, surrounding him well.

“Kiku…” Feliciano reminded and the jack of Hearts knew. He bowed in promise and suddenly took a jump out of the flying lion, landing elegantly on the perch of a red glass he created. He extended his arms full of magic, raining it down in a cleansing shower that began to deteriorate the swinging arms and pillars of darkness. Many Heartians came to his aid in intensifying it.

In each direction, the Jacks did the same, riding much of these dangerous arms that could make this more difficult. Before, just riding of one was a feat that had already killed many of their people. But now…many were rid in easy seconds, people glowing in happiness as there direction was clearer. Those in the ground could run or gallop on their animals free and without a single threat above them. Now, as these dark ribbons weakened, it was much easier to rid with the ease of their weapons or even their fists.

“Ludwig…” Feliciano called his husband’s attention back, who had been starring at their already beginning success proud.

Despite the wings, the halo, this new glow of marks, ethereal in gold truly like the grace of an Ace, Ludwig looked on to him like his adoring Feliciano, the friend he had since childhood and now his husband who was expectant to bring their first pair of children.

Ludwig nodded, although hesitant as he gathered slight bits of darkness from his power. It was the one thing that had ruined all, but Feliciano had gathered information from the eternal reserve that could help. Now, Ludwig was to test it for the first time. They had no time and place to practice. Yet Feliciano believed and Ludwig…didn’t feel it control him, overtake him. It was his free to do as he pleased. Yes…he could do this. He smiled and made his preparation to do his own jump, but not before leaning towards Feliciano and the Queen of Hearts let himself a freeing of his hands to take Ludwig to his embrace. Their lips came for one deep kiss, one magical and igniting. Ludwig felt himself lift from it, a power that helped him fall and take just the right aim even as he fell midair. He had it locked, just as the other King and Queens did their own. In a powerful slash, all their attacks met and crashed upon the shield that Khaos had been using the entire war. They had never known he had one, but now it was no matter, for they easily took it down. Khaos surely felt it for he stilled and looked upon himself as if he had been exposed. He was, clear, and already Feliciano knew the aim and where he needed to land it.

“Take me there,” he told Pookie, and the St. Mark nodded and hurried in his flight, a swirl all around the great beast that granted Feliciano the best view to watch all the horror. He smiled to know how much less darkness there was, spotting the natural blues and greens underneath that was beauty of Spades. Suddenly he felt a burning, intense even with his own Ace protection. In his distraction, he hadn’t noticed how Khaos came right to his presence, his monstrous eyes and mouth a pool that with ease he could fall into. Feliciano wouldn’t dare, and at Khaos’s sudden roar, he didn’t even flinch, he only sent him his own wrath with his stare, before pulling on Pookie’s large mane and flying them away from the throws Khaos tried to swing at Feliciano. He made his slides, with the help of the wind he called, Pookie’s speed and just how small they were, easy to find crevices to make their escape.

As Feliciano reached a good top with a good position, he raised his arms high, his fingertips glowing in light, in power that called and brought from all around as it met and Feliciano let it all rain at Khaos. He screeched horribly in pain, meteors and stars coming continuous. Khaos tried to smash some away, some successful in being thrown at Feliciano’s direction, but Pookie and him, went under or around them well.

That’s when Feliciano began to worry over his St. Mark, already parts of his fur burning from the attacks. “Pookie, let me deal with this now,” he told him and of course the animal refused. Feliciano sighed, expecting this kind of loyalty, but then it gave him an idea, knowing he could trust it. “Go get Ludwig! Bring him to me!” Pookie understood and flew in that direction, Feliciano letting himself fall in a backward flip, a graceful one that let him play momentarily with the wind, the float, the freedom, before his wings caught them and lifted him up. He copied what he had seen Pookie do, the action coming easy, naturally like it had always been a part of him. He couldn’t help his grin as he went forward with his route, charging something powerful in his hands, growing in an intricate and beautiful symbol that alighted with him well. Khaos saw it that instant and went quick for his aim. He bounced against it, the symbol Feliciano made growing at just his size, with a sharpness and cling that resonated across the whole land. His immense figure fell, and the soldiers underneath feared the worst, but Feliciano spread a shield above them, quick as he made his flight. He had to be quicker as Khaos tried to stand again, not caring over the people he would step on as he raised.

Feliciano continued with the lightning shields, intricate and beautiful, but this time Khaos was strong enough to stand against each shock, despite his roars of pain, intensifying as surely the stings got stronger. Feliciano abandoned the shield tactic and began to swing them as disks. Sometimes they were excellent and worked well to burn and tear apart at the target, other times, Khaos still swung on and Feliciano had to tactically avoid, under, over, breathing heavily as he quickened and forced to deal with the speed. For the first time, he took the harp, he prepared four arrows from the gold of his magic, powerful and with ease. He aimed and fired, the piercing one of deep lightning that alighted the sky like part of a storm. Some soldiers had to be moved away for caution as Feliciano intensified, as he kicked on with earthquakes in his force, fired arrows that made this storm bigger, called wind, power and light that exploded in burns that some couldn’t even look at, having to ground and stop whatever they have been doing.

To their success, more of Khaos broke, with crumbles and pieces literally falling, revealing a weak white that some could easily use to bring more damage.

Khaos was heaving, leaning, having to hold to the ground to give himself some stability.

“He’s weakening!” Gilbert shouted, his tone and call one that could extend across the plain, some celebrating to it, but it made Khaos huff, a smoke coming out that poisoned once again. He used it to give him leverage, having to heave more and more until his weakening figure could hide in its grey. Feliciano was succumbed under it as well, but with his power, it was nothing. It didn’t sicken him or blinded him, but he couldn’t see all that well in this dusk. He could still keep his flight as he tried to strengthen his vision.

“Feliciano!” Came the call of his husband, his armor teared, cuts and his hair a mess, but to Feliciano he shined beautifully and with perfection. He dared to stand on Pookie as the St. Mark brought them close together. Ludwig showed hurry and preparation, a leaning towards him that didn’t care over the precipice under him.

“What do I have to do?” He already offered and Feliciano knew that whatever it was, he would fulfill instantaneous.

“I need you with me.” He offered his hands and Ludwig took them and let himself fall into his float, hold and security of staying midair in the midst of this blinding smoke.

Pookie followed behind as Feliciano rushed them trying to find any sign of the main body. “The blackness works like another shield. It also must be what helps him to get power. All we have to do now is finish getting rid of it and not give him the chance to regenerate. Once it’s crumbled, I can give a finishing blow that will end it all.”

They had a clear ending spoken, possible and sure. Ludwig nodded between all, finding no hardness even as the monster moved and awakened again, roaring and trying to swing at them between the now dimming smoke.

“Any ideas as to how exactly were going to do that?”

“With your help. With the dark magic inside you.”

Ludwig sighed but found it indeed the best idea.

“We have to get close.”

“All for you, liebe.” And there was no fear as they plunged closer, enough that they could touch or even walk upon, for it was slowly losing its burn and hurt. Feliciano had to let Ludwig go, using force and power to run across the body while Feliciano continued his flight, sending slashes, ribbons and symbols intense enough to crack. Ludwig gripped hard upon the body, identifying, taking and putting himself into the magic to disrupt, to break apart with ease. Khaos, noticing Ludwig’s presence, tried to once again tame him, spreading through his veins in darkness, but Ludwig learned well to fight against it, using his exercises from childhood to push back, ever stronger, with burn and shocking pain that had Khaos reverting back, disgusted and without any intention to try again. Ludwig smiled to himself when he noticed, finding himself the winner in this specific battle. His grin only grew larger when no matter how he dug, how he broke apart pieces of black with mere force, Khaos did nothing, only dealt with whatever state this caused as his main target became Feliciano.

As Ludwig plunged his own darkness into Khaos, even at the top reaches Feliciano flew upon, he could feel his magic working, tapping, using it and adding it to his own purpose. He enlarged the harp and placed one of its ends against the body. He changed it to the fierceness of a knife and let it carve aggravatingly as he flew on. Khaos roared and swung his arms and his whole body to try and rid of him as if he was a mere fly. Whatever reaches, Feliciano managed, even as he continued to move the harp across, cracking and disturbing. He would swing back with whatever part of him wasn’t focusing on flight or holding to the harp, with splashes like waves that extended across the valley in a beautiful gold that reigned to the rest of the soldiers in a wonderment that somehow took away horror from this. Or other times, in a large impress from the tiny figure Feliciano still presented himself as, he would punch with power, a force that shook the earth and pushed Khaos away in a tremble that some thought would blow up the monster finally. To their dismay, Khaos yet continued, if even slowed, if even as this cracking began to reach him all, breaking him and not seeming as intimidating as he had been the entire war.

As Feliciano tried to finish a last carving spin around the back of his neck, in his focus, he didn’t notice how Khaos shook, how he reached and swatted him away like an insect. He broke from his flight, falling down and landing harshly on the ground in a bang that made some think it had been a meteor.

“Feliciano!” Ludwig called from the standing he still took on Khaos, stopping his own work to make sure that his husband had survived.

Of course he did, only groaning as he tried to find his own sitting once again.

Once the dust settled and Ludwig could spot him, he sighed in relief, just in the distraction Khaos needed at him to plunge, Ludwig tripping not being able to keep his footing, falling but luckily taking a grasp that kept him hanging. Khaos continued his roars and swings hoping to have him, yet Ludwig always managed a holding that kept him still attached. He refused to let himself fall, not when they were so close…so close to finally ending it all. To make it work, he had to keep his place on Khaos’s body.

Feliciano felt his husbands’ distress, even as he arranged himself, bones, even the ones in the wings he currently possessed, cracking fearsome, symbols on his skin changing, working to get him back to the powerful Ace outlook. Quick he managed to stand, to stretch and roll until he was standing as proud and even menacing. He could feel his love in danger, lightening up a fury that charged within him, angering, angering and angering until he released it in a powerful swing of fire, grabbing, taking all of Khaos and slamming him hard against the ground in a thrust that shook the entire valley. All his people that fought had to lay down in reverence.

They had done their purpose…now it was Feliciano’s turn to make the last front.

Dark shards spread across, more white was seen, Khaos was finding it ever harder to stand, to make again his shield of darkness. In whatever attempt he could still manage, he tried to take Ludwig in his clutches. He thought he could threaten, he thought he could still have an upper hand by putting him at risk, but Feliciano didn’t let him, and neither did Ludwig as he bit, as he released and continued on with his own attack, leaving Khaos, even in his immense form, helpless.

Feliciano ran or sometimes flew as the obstacles came, all across the expanse, like a field all for himself to enjoy from and play in. He could already imagine taking this very field free from evil, beautiful Spadian flowers spreading, safe enough for even children to play. Feliciano was reminded of his own childhood with Ludwig doing the same things on the sunny hills of Italy that he had lived. He could imagine their own children laughing and running as they themselves had once.

For them, for that future, he practically shouted to himself as he continued his shredding all across the body, with ease avoiding fumes of darkness or whatever minuscule attack Khaos tried to send on him.

It was becoming less and less as Ludwig dealt with cutting off the parts that created attacks. Khaos couldn’t stand any longer, he could only manage a sitting by the time Feliciano reached the back of his neck. He didn’t even notice he was there. It was enough for Feliciano to take his harp and finish the last of the carving.

It was time.

Khaos swung at him weakly, Feliciano could avoid it with ease. All of the darkness in his body began to fall, more white appearing to the point that one could confuse him as a symbol of Pisa instead.

“Everyone move away!” He had called with Ace potency in his tone, all shaking as they obeyed, other royals mobilizing a quick escape from the area. Yet of all, Kiku was the only who stayed in his place, his gaze locked up on his Queen despite how he stood by the immensity of Khaos’s fallen hip. He could easily be caught in any wail Khaos tried, yet Kiku found it unfair to run away, especially when his King and Queen were still in this fray. He didn’t follow the crowds, he went the opposite direction, trying to meet Ludwig or Feliciano.

“Kiku! Kiku!” He heard Abasi shout after him, but he didn’t answer, in opposite, he moved faster. He began to reach places that had been emptied, or untouched because they were the most dangerous areas that were left for Feliciano to deal with, and he could tell, as he cough and began to feel stings even with the shields Feliciano had placed on them.

“Ludwig…Feliciano! Ludwig! Feliciano!” He called hoping to reach them. No one…everything was empty and desolate even with Khaos roaring and shaking still. He leaned in failure, in loneliness, thinking that everything will end like this for him in a desperate reach to be with his friends in this moment of need.

Something was coming near, warm, friendly, already a smile he could feel on his back. “Kiku!” Came that excitement that he knew well from his Queen. He smiled and fell into Feliciano’s arms as he swept him off with his speed and flight across the immensity. Despite how the marks glowed on his skin like rubies, the impotent halo, the red wine in his eyes and the great wings…Kiku saw Feliciano true, as any other day in the castle before everything.

“Feliciano, listen, I will not be moving away with the rest. You have to let me help you, and I won’t take any-”

“Ah, good! I actually need you right now.”

Kiku held himself for a moment in embarrassment. “What is it?” He instead went straight to his duty.

“First, we have to pick up Ludwig.” And finally his figure appeared in the distance, a debonair smile as he raised his hand in knowing, no fear at all despite actually standing on Khaos. Feliciano caught him just as some dimming darkness bubbled and exploded in their leave. The remains blended into white with the rest of the ruin Khaos was becoming.

Feliciano, with simple ease, carried both his King and Jack over the last of the terrain, using the ending elevation to raise him up and start escalating high in the air.

“This is it. I’ll be aiming him with the largest power in my possession. It’s one Augusta told me about, using the harp.” He suddenly stopped as he avoided a throw of darkness that Khaos tried to make.

As they continued, he was forced into a sweep that was not the best to be carrying Ludwig and Kiku in. He whistled and in no time came Pookie, offering a stead that Feliciano placed them all in perfect accord. The winged lion didn’t mind at all, he actually purred at knowing the aid he gave, continuing the heights Feliciano intended while successfully avoiding whatever Khaos managed in his last attempts.

“Then…it will finally be over?” Ludwig desperately hoped.

“Not quite. Khaos still possesses something important and we have to take it away before we destroy him.”

Kiku and Ludwig didn’t bother to question what. They just nodded and trusted whatever Feliciano planned. There was no time to hesitate or change especially when they were upon the final horizon.

Feliciano, to be ready, began a calling, a raise of magic from all across the globe, meeting upon him to create wonderful pillars of light, far, large, slowly encaging the area for what his Ace power planned.

“With me, you have to aim, and with me you have to fire a serene Teresa.”

It was a high protective spell to act against large threats. It was mostly used by guards or sorcerers that worked with fire or other sudden emergencies, to protect those they found in wreckages or trying to get out people that were stuck while fires, earthquakes or tsunamis rampaged. Simple, yet with the force they now had, it would be a shield perfect to protect exactly what Feliciano needed. Ludwig and Kiku already began to thread the spell in their palms as Feliciano made Pookie take a pause…finding just the right place. They turned to Khaos’s direction, and despite how he was weakening, his being was still an inferno that they felt coming close to burn them completely.

They weren’t bothered.

Ludwig and Kiku already took their aim as they gathered the magic needed, Ludwig including even some dark magic that could be of great use. Feliciano finally let his harp extend in size, just as these far off pillars shined more, moving at the raise of his arms like giant arrows that worked alone in their own bows of air. Their citizens trembled at their immensity, scared if they would even get out of this attack, if the shields Feliciano had placed on them would work. This seemed too large for them to even witness. And then they lowered, setting their target, the harp burning along with the formation that Feliciano created, his being glowing more in its fire and with his own gold. A gorgeous deep red arrow was formed, engraved with vines of gold that seemed to breathe to Ludwig and Kiku. They almost lost their focus because of it.

It was ready, the aim was set, just as Khaos erupted and tried to reach, tried to swat away Feliciano in his very last attempt. Feliciano only smiled, an intense glow in his eyes as he let go and fired, the arrow, along with the large ones all around him, aiming true at a center that obliterated, blew and exploded. Ludwig and Kiku joined in their own attack, embracing a center where surely laid what Feliciano wanted protected. Although their citizens were blinded in this immense show of power and light, the three Heartian royals saw as clearly as if they were in the purest of waters. Feliciano swam them through it with ease, using his power to protect them as they traversed this fire. His wings grew as extra shield, the gems and marks on his body glowing more to let them survive.

“Is he gone? Is he really gone?” Kiku had to question in the mist.

“Wait…” Feliciano told just as a shrill went throughout, chilling and horrifying, Ludwig and Kiku had to cover their ears from it and only Feliciano went through with it, having to maintain their safe within. He let his arms dance in a particular way that called creation, bringing to him any darkness and purifying it in gold and colors, flying off like petals to join the flourishing of this new field.

He continued this cleanse as he made Pookie ride them throughout, a downward glide that to Ludwig and Kiku seemed like hours. The closer they reached the ground, the more it cleared around them, the more natural blue sky they saw, the more they could breathe, their smile grew and they were confident that no harm as Khaos would ever come again.

Pookie landed on the ground, Ludwig and Kiku taking their descend with ease, walking now in the start of green grass, the dirt there with only but specks of darkness. Feliciano followed afterwards, still calling with him the remnants, spread across above them in damaged strings that they could think were just strange dark clouds. Feliciano called them all to him, piece by piece making each part disappear in glowing wind, the shrills getting lower and lower until they were only but a squeak in the palm of Feliciano’s hands.

Now, as everything around them cleared to the usual rushes of this field, the last bits of darkness were but the ones that swam around the small call, the small wave Feliciano kept of a single hand. Whatever last shout Khaos tried to make, it came out like a child’s cry. He tried to whip, but even if it did reach skin, it did nothing, not even redden or create the slightest cut. Ludwig and Kiku stared on stupefied, finding it hard to believe that what was left of Khaos was just these tiny specks that Feliciano kept twirling around.

“And…” a turn down, “…you are…” up, another spin, only but dust left… “…gone.”

And there was no more darkness, everything disappeared entirely. Now surrounding them was the natural blow of wind, cleaning the field and bringing the aroma of flowers that was meant.

It was silent, it was peaceful, Feliciano smiled in welcome to this new era, proper with this new sun that came.

Khaos was gone. It was over…it was finally over.

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Only two more chapters to go ;)

#Feliciano and the King of Hearts #FATKOH #f&tkoh #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic

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