#i think too many boring straight men get to be in charge of the stories that dominate pop culture

[sunny-superstar]

death of the author is such an interesting concept. and i’m not even talking about cancelling the author for whatever reason, i mean that sometimes they must be separated from their own idea just because the idea takes on a life beyond what the author can conceive of

there is much to be said about tv writers who do not see the more profound meanings that arise in their own stories, i assume because their ego prevents them from looking outside of their own intention with the narrative. as a result, the audience is made to feel that their interpretations are categorically wrong, that their subjective view of the interpretation is ‘delusional.’ but we are interpreting what we see. like. at some point the writer inevitably loses control of the narrative, because it simply doesn’t exist in a vacuum.

if the actors, who have an inherently intimate relationship with the characters they play, believe something about their character, it’s going to come through in their performances, regardless of the author’s intention. in that way, the actors portraying the characters are actually the ones in control of the story. the audience sees the performance, not the script.

all that to say, if the guys playing your boy best friend characters independently decide to play them as though they are in love, then they are. there are many, many such cases. yall know what i’m talkin about

[rcksmith]

Lust — Kaz Brekker

Gif by @kitsyoung

Request: “Hey. I really like your writing and I was wondering if you would consider writing a Kaz piece with the smut prompts 76, 1 & 33. Obviously with your au rules. If it’s too much I completely understand tho”

“7, 17, 36, and 73 from the smut list for Kaz Brekker please? If not, no worries! 💖 Thank you!”

“Holy shit that last kaz brekker smut- AMAZING. Was wondering if you could write another smut with smut prompt #6? Of course if this bothers you just ignore it. Thank you so much 🥰”

Smut prompts:

1. “You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat.”

6. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

7. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

17. “after that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy”

33. “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”

36. "If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.“

73. “You know, you look real pretty when you cry.”

76. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nsfw, jealous, mention of fight.

Word count: 5k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

Thank you so much for the requests and for all affection 💖 I decided to compile these requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. I hope you like it and good reading.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

There is a theory that always, somewhere, there will be a person capable of making you lose your breath, and your reasoning, whenever he appears on the scene. Someone who robs you of your breath, your heartbeat, your ability to think clearly and your control to keep your hands not shaking.

And Kaz Brekker would always be that person for you.

From the first time you laid eyes on him, it's been a feeling of dying and going to heaven. Except that Heaven was, in reality, a hot, burning hell. Where your greatest punishment was being forced to watch his tall figure, who exuded masculinity by every inch, walking in front of you like a Renaissance painting very superb.

Nothing that Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and Picasso created has bordered on the personification of beauty that he was.

Kaz was beautiful in a very mysterious, dangerous and chilling way. You would describe his aura as the height of midnight in an enigmatic city, his hair the color of the core of sin and his features as lines that the god Ares would have drawn. Everything about him reeked of the fog of suspense stories, with a touch of lust.

All the looks he directed at you were caustic, flickering and intense as a candle flame, reverberating through your veins like angry eels and always make the room feeling charged with electricity, like the ground after the fall of a lightning. Everything between the two of you seemed to be filled with something fiery and arcane. From the gazes, the rubbing of shoulders, the times when the skins touched. Everything was a compilation of sensations that make you catch your breath whenever Kaz Brekker appeared.

He was your kryptonite. In all senses.

And that was exasperating in the extreme, at staggering levels. You felt your center of your sex vibrate whenever he directed you that voice whit baritone intonation and predatory looks, whenever the button-down shirts were tight enough for you to revel in the contours of his body, or sometimes when he wore the cane to signal or stopper something. This was the worst of them. His cane.

Have you lost count of how many times Kaz stopped you as counting money, by putting the tip of the cane over your hands, or stopped you from going somewhere by blocking your path with the cane, lifting the object horizontally in front of your belly. And every time you felt your legs tremble, your breath fade and a very dirty part of your brain whisper that you wanted him to use that object in you in more fun ways.

Your body was so responsive that there were times when you knew, with every fiber of your soul, that Kaz was able to read the paths in which your thoughts wandered. He lowered his gaze to you, in that breathless connection that promised to contain the most nefarious paths of sin, and maliciously curved the left corner of his lips in an arrogant, oblique expression. At such times, you could feel in your soul the words he did not say:

I know the perverted things that you are thinking.

And the truth was, he really knew. Kaz memorized every change in your breathing, every blush on your cheeks, every trembling of your hands, every your trembling look whit a frightened girl who had been caught thinking of something impure. He knew how your body was responsive, needy. And he himself had to control himself not to push you over the desk in his office and fuck you like an aggressive animal, bringing all your perverted thoughts to life.

It wasn't his physical reactions that kept him from taking action, but an even more visseral reaction than the pulsing desire he felt for you. Mine. The primal, determined, burning sensation of possession. That it ran through his veins like hot, bubbling lava. The desire was familiar, but this statement, not. Like the jealousy he felt for you, he quickly recognized the danger he was in.

If Kaz touched you…he knew he would never be able to let you go.

Mine. A statement that resonated spontaneously whenever he saw you, a testament to the reactions the two of you triggered in each other. However, not even the awareness of the dangerous game that was between you was able to dispel the climate of provocative sensuality that pulsed in the places whenever the two of you were together.

It was like playing with a powerful drug. One slip and he would be addicted forever.

On days like this, when Kaz had just come out of an exasperating meeting with Peka, a businessman and mobster who was always looking for ways to try and bring Kaz down, his already bad temper turned to terrible. He felt compelled to break something, drink a whole bottle of the best English whiskey in that club, and punch someone. Kaz felt the anger pulse through his veins, in a pure and perfect way.

He left the office, turning off his cell phone so he wouldn't be disturbed and descending the stairs to the center of his Crow Club, mind buzzing and anger seeping in his blood. He needed to unwind, maybe get into the car and head home. Maybe actually drink that whiskey bottle. Maybe both.

Kaz was about to take another step down, running a gloved hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes, when his gaze met your figure. And that was when the already terrible temper rose to the very badly.

Normally, a vision like that would have just bothered him, a compulsion to do something. But that day, Kaz was at the height of his angriest feelings. And seeing you, bold as a goddess in that little black dress, next to Jesper at the gambling table and flirting with a guy to your left, did things with every last bit of patience and self-control he had.

His eyes never left you as he took another step, running his hand through his hair again to contain the unruly strands. You were laughing, downing another drink and placing a card on the table. You turn back to the man to your left, your eyelashes fluttered gracefully in a promise to allow him to guide your rein tonight.

But there would be no goddamn rein for that fucking guy to guide.

Kaz gripped his cane tightly, descending the other short stairs and advancing toward your with dangerous, determined, and angry steps.

"...in this part of the year, criminal law cases drop a lot." The damn guy was telling you, his boring blond hair falling over his blue eyes in a way Kaz found annoying.

To fucking hell with that blond-haired Dande.

“Y/n, Jesper!” Kaz tapped the end of his cane on the table, stopping the cards under the polished wooden end.

Everyone at the table looked at him startled, their actions frozen. He saw you swallow hard, a soft tremor sigh in your shoulders.

Good!

“Shouldn't you be at the door?” Kaz turned to Jesper, his eyes sparks with annoyance.

“Right now, Boss.” He stood up, giving you a strained smile and heading towards the door.

“Kaz…” You started, voice softly intoxicated.

You knew you weren't supposed to be at the gambling table, let alone so late at night and drunk, even if Jesper was by your side. You had the ability to win every play, in any game, and that ended up not only driving the others away, but leaving the men, already drunk and irrational, aggressive and with an extremely bruised ego. And they almost always wanted to retaliate physically. As much as there were security guards and cameras everywhere to keep something bad from happening, Kaz couldn't stand the thought of someone hurting you. Not even blinking insultingly in your direction.

He sent you an icy, sharp, steady look. A clear warning for you to stop there any excuse you were about to give. To be careful with the next words you would say. You swallowed hard, looking away and getting up from the table. Slightly wobbly from the drink, you fished your coat from the chair next to you, giving a strained, apologetic smile to the guy you'd been flirting with so far.

“I better go home and call an uber and…” You started, but Kaz cut your sentence.

“I'll driver you.”

His tone exuded annoyance and impatience, giving no opening to any objections, demonstrating that he was in no mood for games. Much less defiance of his orders. You knew him too well to recognize that that night had pulled his nerves beyond what he could handle, the strain and irritation in his eyes told you something had happened beyond what you knew. His jaw, straight and strong as glass, was clenched tightly, his night-colored hair was disheveled in an overwhelmingly attractive way, and his black robes sinfully marred every line of his body.

You should have become wary of the dangerous energy that he exuded through every pore at that moment. However, to your inebriated and excited brain, Kaz Brekker has never looked so fucking hot! Your underbelly vibrated in response to the personification of sin that Kaz was, your heart racing at alarming levels as you followed him out, walking over to his car.

Like every piece of Brekker's clothing, his car was sleek black, with big black wheels, tinted glass and dark leather seats. Hades' chariot. You felt your breath catch when Kaz opened the passenger door for you, his eyes avoiding yours, his jaw still clenched and dangerous energy exhaling through every fiber of his tall, lean body.

Holy Mother of God, this man was a perdition!

Kaz contained an instinctive desire to go back inside and tell that aspiring Dande that you weren't available. Instead, he closed the door when you got in and turned around in the car, closing his own and squeezing the steering wheel harder than he would have liked.

Midnight height light streamed in through the darkened car windows and gently illuminated the curve of your cheek, highlighting your skin that Kaz might have named the color of the gods. So much attention was too seductive. Emotions and reactions still bubbled through each his vein like scandant water, mingling with months of frustrated desires and burning sexual tension.

At that moment, jealousy laced him. Mine. Amazing and at the same time propelled by dangerous strength, Kaz tried to trap that feeling back into the dungeon of his soul. He controlled his fury, yet he couldn't completely tame. Annoyance turned to anger. Starting driving the car forward, Kaz tried to think of anything but how you looked like the Goddess Aphrodite on that dark bench. Splendid as a heat ray in a winter day.

“Kaz…” You started, that gentle, repentant tone that stirred every spark in his soul.

He hated how his name on your lips sounded so sensual, so right and so delicious. He would give everything he had to hear you moan his name.

“Don't start” he warned, now not because of latent annoyance, but because he didn't know if he could stop himself if he heard your voice.

However, you didn't make things any easier for him.

"You don't have to be so angry." You go "I wasn't even using all my intellect on the game, I wasn't trying to win."

Kaz didn't even know if that was the core of the problem anymore. Was he angry that you went to a table where it was dangerous? Yes. But the waters were much deeper than that, much more dangerous. The way your smile, sweet and sensual, was directed at that guy, reeled in Kaz's mind, impregnated with the plague. He felt the blood burn in his veins just remembering how melted you looked for that man. And as much as he couldn't blame you, because you were free and single, the primal, irrational part of him screamed so much louder now.

Mine.

“This does not matter anymore.” It was the only thing he managed to say, the very sensations drowning him.

“And it wasn't even that dangerous.” But unlike him, you were obliterating the burning emotions that Kaz exuded. “There were only a few players drunker than a door, and Jesper was on my side, and also James, who was very charming and...”

Kaz almost lost direction, making the car bounce smoothly. He staked his eyes at you, puzzled and bubbling.

“James?”

“Yeah, the blond guy who…”

"I don't want to know, Y/n." He cut you off "I don't want to hear about the guys you allow to drool around you like mangy dogs."

The distilled rage was impossible to contain, and before Kaz knew it, the words were out. He turned forward again, his hands tighter on the steering wheel.

“Wait…” Your tone was slightly smug, and the way you rubbed one thigh against the other was impossible for Kaz to miss.

The grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“You are jealous?” Your intonation dropped to a low, sensual, provocative level.

Suddenly, Kaz's entire body became very aware of your body inches away. He could feel the heat that you radiated and the lyrical, sweet and sinful scent of your perfume flooded all his senses. The air grew thin, puffy and stuffy, and if it had been December cold outside, Kaz would still feel the height of summer in that car. Flashes of excitement and danger rippled through the car, and the brief silence grew even more charged with sexual tension and lustful anticipation that stirred every fiber of Kaz's being.

He made the mistake of looking at you again, and your softly mischievous smile that promised a lifetime of satisfied desires only served to incite his madness. Kaz had never understood how a man could want a woman so badly that he acted irrationally and carelessly. But now he understood. And when he realized you tried to stifle a sensual sigh from the way he was looking at you, his body won the fight against his mind and Kaz stopped abruptly the car at the red traffic light.

The sexual tension between you had become unbearable. In one moment, Kaz was fighting the series of overwhelming and disturbing emotions that dominated his entire being, and in the next moment, he had taken your mouth with his in a fiery, fierce, animal kiss. Stealing all the air from both of you, his thoughts, and his sanity.

He held your face firmly in his hands, his fingers going down to the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, turning everything into something more caustic and desperate. Yours hands went to his arms, moving up to his shoulders and cupping the sides of his neck, pulling him closer. Kaz's tongue inched into your mouth without waiting for permission, conquering and claiming every fiber of your body, of your soul, in a continued of kisses you couldn't tell where one ended and another began.

The moan of satisfaction you let out gave him a lust and desire unlike anything Brekker had ever felt. Like hot, addictive honey down in his throat. He was still gripped by jealousy, annoyance and possessiveness. With the desire for you pulsing in his body just like his heartbeat.

Kaz pulled back millimetrically, his blue eyes overshadowed by the heat of the moment, his lips red and swollen from the sinful kisses he gave you. At that moment, Kaz Brekker looked like an angry young God, and you've never felt more attracted to someone in your life than you are now.

You looked at him, panting and needy, wishing with all your might that he repeat the same actions. And you knew he realized that. Perfectly. You saw the spark of male satisfaction ignite in his eyes as he absorbed your desire. He was so close... so very close, and you couldn't stand the enormous anxiety for a caress, a kiss, anything.

His cocky smile intensified as you put more pressure in your touch his skin, your fingers trailing down his neck and back to his shoulders, silently pleading for him to do something with you. Anything he wanted.

Kaz lowered his one gloved hand to your jaw, thumb and forefinger squeezing your chin and making you look at him directly, you staring into the deep, shrewd blue of his eyes. He pulled you closer by the grip on your chin, the husky, erotic words hitting your lips like a promise of sin as he said:

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don't forget who you belong to.”

It was impossible to control the loud, needy sigh that escaped, your center throbbing in despair and wetting the thin cloth of your panties. You wanted he to touch you more, pull your body against his until there was not a single sigh left, claim your soul and your body as his. You had parted your lips to say something, most likely a plea for him to continue, but the traffic light turned green and Kaz took his hands off you, straightening up on the bench and putting the car move.

In the absence of his warmth, his body, you felt cold, empty and frozen. As if Kaz were your sun and you were Icarus. Feeling the compulsion to need to get closer, complete its magnitude and bask in his rays. Every cell in your body begged for him, in needy and submissive requests, telling you to accept anything he told you, that he gave you, as long as it touched you.

“If I knew that to make you kiss me I would have to flirt with someone else, I would have done it a long time ago.” You teased, a satisfied, malicious smile on your lips.

Kaz looked at you in annoyance. In a clear warning that you should never more do that again.

"If you wanted me to kiss you like the brat you are, you just needed to have asked." He countered your game to the full.

"But if I want more than that?" But just as he knew how to play, so did you.

You swiped the tip of your tongue across your lips, kicking off your shoes and pulling your legs over the dashboard of the car, exposing your nearly bare thighs through the thin black fabric of your dress. Your actions instantly caught Kaz's eyes, and his grip on the steering wheel grew stronger and his breathing heavier.

The air inside the car became more ardent, burn, charged with eroticism and lust that left both of you breathless. An electrifying energy coursed through their bodies, as if they had been struck by a bolt of fire. You wanted him in a way you never thought you could want anyone.

Kaz took a deep breath, and looked at you with dangerous predator eyes as he said:

"If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

The words made your body tremble. But if Kaz was trying to dissuade you, that was the last thing he should have told you. Instead of taming the fire inside you, it threw gasoline into the aggressive fire. You pressed your thighs together, your body sensitive to his words filled with burning promise.

In five minutes of insane courage, you took your feet off the dashboard, leaned toward Kaz, and brushed his neck with your lips. In slow, burning, hot kisses, you traced a path to the pulse in his neck, opening your lips slightly to brush your tongue over that pulse point.

“Please.” You beg.

Kaz's moan was low, but loud enough in your mind. You were being his undoing and you knew it. Suddenly, the car veered to the right and came to an abrupt stop. You would have lost your balance if Kaz's hands hadn't clung to your waist, pulling you in one movement to his left thigh, pressing your soaked core into the black fabric of his pants.

You gasped loudly, or he, or both. And in the next moment, his mouth was on yours again. The kiss was more aggressive, possessive, angry and ardent. Kaz kissed you as if he wanted to decree you his, proclaim his possession. You didn't see when he removed his gloves, but the touch of his skin with on your thighs was all you could think of.

“Kaz…” You moaned into his mouth, and the grip on your thighs moved up to your hip, digging his fingers into your thin dress-covered skin with such force it was sure to leave marks tomorrow. "Please."

You knew what you were begging for, but the moment Kaz forced your waist to move against his thigh, rubbing your pulsing core against his thigh, you forgot even your own name. And Kaz knew it. Then, like dominant man who wanted to see you surrendered to him that he was, his mouth went to your ear as he whispered:

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Kaz wiggled his thigh against you, making your clit roll against the soggy fabric of your panties.

You moaned loudly, your hands tightening on his shirt, your face hiding in his chest as an overwhelming, aching pleasure invaded your system. It felt good, but unbearable for being so little, churning something in your belly that made you despair for more.

"Y-yes." You whimpered, rolling your hips on his thigh.

Kaz's bare hand crept up the slit between your thighs, your dress already balled up at the top of your waist, and dipped his fingers into the juncture of your pussy and his thigh, pulling your panties to the side and making you feel the fabric of his dark pants against your wet, hot flesh. You moaned louder, your grip on his shirt tighter and your hips rocked harder for have any friction.

“Do you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are? Is that what you've wanted all this time?” His words, husky and strong, in that intense, dominant intonation, sent all your self-control to hell.

"Yes." You sobbed. “I-I need you."

But his hand in your panties went up to your chin, and he forced you to look him in the eye once more. The electric intensity of that look turned you on even more, making you gasp as his thigh still rocked against your throbbing clit.

“After that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy” It was very hard to think with all the stimuli he was giving you, but the thunderous blue eyes warned you to pay attention to his words “Do you think you deserve me to fuck you?”

His gaze invaded you so deep and so warm and intense that you wondered if he was trying to leave a burning imprint on your soul. All over your body, overwhelming desires resonated, and you gave in to the compulsion to roll his thigh further, whimpering from the pressure on your clit.

"I'm s-so sorry." You whimpered, eyes pleading with he "It won't happen again."

"Won't happen what?" He tightened his grip on your chin, not painfully, but firmly to get your attention.

"It won't happen again, Sir."

The reward for your obedience came in an aggressive, hungry kiss, his hand in your chin dropping for your hip and wiggle his thigh at your needy pussy.

"Do you want to cum?" He teased you.

"Yes, S-sir."

"The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

Then, as if to reiterate his statement, his mouth clutte to yours once more, his thigh swayed with more vigor and his bare hands moved up to the neckline of your dress.

His warm palms and long fingers lowered the straps of your dress and released your braless breasts, your nipples hard with pleasure and your breasts swollen with arousal.

Your moan was muffled by Kaz's, and he just released your mouth to lower his lips to your left breast, capturing the innocent nipple with his mouth and rolling his tongue across your flesh. You moaned louder, your waist twisting desperately against his thigh as your hands tangled in the strands of his black hair.

Kaz delighted in every inch of you, his hands going back to your waist as his mouth attacked your other breast, leaving a trail of hot saliva on his tight, needy nipples. Brekker was consumed by a fierce hunger and need, so overpowering that he pressed his fingers to your skin as if you were his last meal. He'd wanted for so long to do all that, to dive into your body like a starving man, savoring every inch of your warm skin.

Letting out a loud, delighted moan, Kaz increased his thigh movements as he suckled on your nipple, feeling flung to hell heaven as you squealed softly and collapsed onto his thigh, smearing his black fabric with your hot cum. But Kaz couldn't care less about the fucking pants. His cock hard and rigid as a sword hilt throbbed desperately, commanding him to sink into the heat of your slippery walls.

"This is much better than I dreamin." You whimpered softly, your face still buried in his neck, your waist wiggling slyly in his thigh.

"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" He teased you, taking his hands to your panties away from the center of your pussy and pulling them between your legs, tucking them in his pants pocket.

You nodded, your mouth dipping into his neck in broken kisses as your hands went to his pants belt, trying to get rid of any barrier between the two of you as quickly as possible.

"Please, please." You begged, flustered as Kaz stopped your hip movements with his hands "I need to feel you inside me."

Your plea was sated with an arrogant kiss as Kaz reached for his pants, pulling the fabric of the boxer together and letting pop out his dick throbbing, pulsing and his swollen head, brushing in your pussy with lazy strides.

"S-sir!" You cried, trying to earn more.

"Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you."

The strong, long arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your chest against his chest as Kaz guided his dick to the entrance to your pussy, with one hand. He play whit you, pressing his head into your entrance just enough to make you feel the pressure, recoiling when you swayed frantically for more. The painful pleasure sent tears to your eyes, and you sobbed loudly as you were just toy in his hands.

A few hot tears ran down your face as you whimpered, helpless in his arms to get what you wanted.

"You know, you look real pretty when you cry." Kaz pressed his mouth to yours.

In that second, he completely sank his dick into you, swallowing your loud scream as the thickness of it widened you and hit the bottom of the well. The grip of his arm around you tightened, and Kaz lifted you and brought you let down badly, drown his dick even more deeply inside your hot, wet, desperate walls.

"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, his mouth leaving yours, but not pulling away enough and letting you feel his hard breath hit your lips.

You followed his thrusts, bouncing your waist up and down hard and letting his dick beat frantically inside you, robbing you of your breath and your ability to think. Your moans mingled with his, the pornographic sounds of their bodies crashing together were loud and you thanked God the car windows were black and the street was deserted.

"So fucking good slut!" Kaz growled against your lips, one hand leaving your body to snake down to your throat, maintaining a firm, dominant grip.

You moaned his name and his title between loud moans and broken sobs. Yours hands closed around the shirt off his shoulders and the waist shimmied between the thrusts, making sure his dick was completely inside you.

“You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat!” Kaz tightened his grip on yoir neck, watching you tilt your head back and expose your entire body to the delight of his eyes.

He growled louder, spurred on by that sinful sight, and increased the rhythm that pounded inside you, filling every inch of you and sinking down as anatomically as possible. Kaz felt possessed by a wild beast, insatiable and euphoric, and each thrust he gave you was more force he inflicted on you, marking you as his.

Kaz pulled your neck to him, pressing your mouth to his as he growled against your lips: “Mine.”

You nodded frantically, the apex bursting in a burst of pleasure as his dick came out and sank in hard, desperate, urgent strokes.

“Yours”

You promised, kissing him urgently and swallowing a low cry as his dick shuddered inside you, flooding you with the hot liquid until your walls overflowed, giving you a feeling of being incredibly full. You whimpered into his mouth, exchanging a sloppy kiss as Kaz gave you a few more thrusts, making sure his cum would fill your every inch, not letting you dare waste a drop.

“Mine” he repeated through the kiss.

so, the weather??? HAHAHA, anyway friends, i hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget consult the rules if you want to request for some Kaz smut. Love u. O

[sovtwords]

a king and his pawns

pairing: kita shinsuke x reader x miya atsumu warnings: 18+, royalty!au, threesome (M/M/F), bisexuality, anal, double penetration, hand jobs, blow jobs, doggystyle, kissing with cum, dom/sub undertones, fluff, established relationship w/c: 7.7k a/n: -AO3 LINK HERE- This is a little side-story thing I wrote for a royal!au I haven't actually gotten around to writing yet so WELP. It's fine tho, this was written for Kita's bday and he deserves it. LOVE YOU!! This fic features men engaging in sexual acts together so if that ain't your cup of tea then feel free to back out if you're uncomfortable! I'm bad at writing smut anyway, you'd probably be doing yourself a favour lmao. Regardless, enjoy!! Please lemme know what you think.

Kita Shinsuke was stressed. It’s not often the King loses his cool, but it seems as though life wishes to taunt him this week. Trade with Corvus has momentarily stopped due to an internal dispute meaning the Kingdom will be low on textiles for the unforeseeable future, a sudden drought has put the crops at risk, and Ginjima continues to test his patience with every new raid on the homesteads just outside of the kingdoms border - not within where Kita can arrest him, but close enough to be a thorn in his side.

He’s so very tired and so very alone, and everyone sees it as they convene for weekly meetings. They eye him with worry, yet he shrugs off every word of concern with the grace as befitting his title, though his Masters of War and Prosperity respectively eye him the most, the worry so potent on Lady Miya’s face he feels a warmth blooming in his chest. She even dares to lay a comforting hand on her king, and he allows only her to disregard her courtesies (not that she would ever forget them) and touch him. It’s nice to be treated well.

The meeting ends, and Kita is so close to retiring to his balcony to rest for a while until he notices that the happily married couple stay. “Ya alright there, Kita?” Atsumu asks, opting to drop all formalities and talk as friends like when they were younger. Kita’s glad for it.

“I’m fine,” he lies, and knows it wasn’t very convincing with the way they stare in disbelief. “Things are just tense right now. I’m sure we’re all feeling it,” he elaborates. Lady Miya takes his hand in hers once more, small fingers gripping tightly onto his. He keeps his eyes trained on them.

“That’s right, but you don’t have to burden this alone. It’s why you have your council. And you don’t have to hide anything from us. We’re here to listen to you, my King, so please – share your worries with us, so that you might feel better.”

Ah. His heart clenches with affection, and a soft smile grows on his face when he looks at the earnestness in your gaze, thumb idly stroking your fingers and momentarily forgetting that your husband is still in the room, sitting just to his left. But it’s so easy to forget that when his attention is focused on the right of the table, when Atsumu himself hasn’t said a word when normally he would screech if anyone dared get chummy with his wife, King or not.

“Thank you, my Lady. It warms my heart to know that you care so deeply,” he says carefully, pulling back with a quiet sigh. “But I’m fine, truly. I find that reading the books that you gifted to me helps me to relax.”

“I know another way ya might relax,” Atsumu interrupts before his wife gets sucked into a long conversation about stories.

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s something more suited for behind the doors of your chambers, if ya catch my drift,” Atsumu smirks, while his Lady looks appalled. Kita feels the tips of his ears burn but keeps his expression as stony as ever.

“That’s crude, Atsumu. And you know that I’m averse to…” he trails off awkwardly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. Atsumu laughs.

“I know ya don’t take concubines. But that doesn’t stop ya from reading the spicier books in the library, does it?”

“What’s yer point, Atsumu?” He asks bluntly. Better to get whatever trick he has planned over and done with. The blonde smirks, eyes shifting between himself and his wife.

“Was just wonderin’ if ya wanted a private show, that’s all. My Lady here makes for quite the spectacle. Just a way for ya to destress.”

Lady Miya gasps loudly, a blush burning on her face as she stares at her husband in complete shock while Kita’s heart stalls in his chest.

Watch his friends while they… No. That’s a boundary he should not cross. No matter how many times his eyes have slipped downwards to where your chest is pushed upwards by the corsets of your newer dresses, or how smooth your neck looked when you lean over to discuss reports with him, he…no. Such intimacy should belong in their bedroom, not his. Right?

“Atsumu, that's not a funny joke. You should watch your mouth and apologise to your wife for embarrassing her“

“Hold on now, your highness, she didn’t say no.”

Kita blinks. Looking to where she sits, he sees the obvious humiliation on her face, clear as day as the heat on her cheeks. But with it, a look of conflict, a spark of curiosity in your eyes when they lock with his.

“I…If it pleases my King, then I don’t mind. I would do anything for my King,” she says resolutely, and the way your voice grows airy every time she speaks of his title sends sparks straight to his groin. He swallows harshly, opens and closes his mouth a few times as he feels the heat of Atsumu’s smirk boring down on him. It had definitely been a while since he’d done anything of that nature, but… was this really ok?

It’s silent for what seems like forever. Eventually Kita calls out to the servant standing outside the council room.

“Find the largest chaise you can find and have it delivered to my room. I want it there by tonight.”

God’s above, save him. He was really going through with this.

- - - - - - - -

Night has fallen, the castle is quiet.

He doesn’t know how he should act. It seems as though nobody except Atsumu knows how to act, if the way Lady Miya sits with her back straight as a pillar and arms folded politely in her lap was any indication. Atsumu lounges against the chaise in front of Kita’s bed with a drink in one hand and fingers twirling through the sash of your robe in the other , waiting for either Kita or his wife to make any sort of move, though it seems as though their nerves have gotten the best of them.

“Shy, Kita?” the blonde Lord asks. Kita gives an embarrassed furrow of his brows, but stays quiet. Atsumu chuckles. “Well then. Does my King agree to let me be the one in charge tonight?”

How treacherous of Atsumu to ask, but with no real idea on how to go about this, Kita relinquishes control with a mute nod of his head. Better to let Atsumu take the reins than for him to accidentally cross a boundary he was unsure of. Atsumu downs his wine in record time, and moves to place it on a nearby dresser before returning to his Lady. He takes hold of your face with such reverence and love that Kita has to look away and swallow down the bitter jealousy swirling like bile in his gut. He hears Atsumu whisper some reassurances to you, and nimble fingers undo the sash around your waist.

You stand up at Atsumu’s request, and he takes your spot on the chaise, posted in front of the King for his viewing pleasure. “Didn’t want ya to miss this,” Lord Miya says, and swiftly loosens your robes, letting them pool around your feet and laying bare your silky and soft flesh for Kita to see. Dark eyes rove over plump breasts, wide hips and thick thighs, and he’s convinced that no concubine in the world could ever compete with the beauty standing in front of him, made all the more sweeter that you’re a coveted treasure by your husband, making Kita the only other man to ever see you like this. It makes his cock twitch in his breeches, and makes Atsumu smile devilishly because he knows the effect this is having on his superior.

Your gasp alerts him to the fingers that have slipped between your legs from behind to cup your sex, brushing against the light hair that Kita wants nothing more than to bury his face in right now. “She’s as sweet as a peach, this one,” Atsumu coos, pressing all the right buttons and gifting Kita with moans and sighs that Angels would blush to hear. “As wet as one, too. Let’s show King Kita, shall we?”

Without prodding you sit in Atsumu’s lap and allow him to spread your legs wide, and the candlelight makes the slick gathering on your cunt and thighs glisten, Kita’s brain faltering at the sight. His body grows hot with want, with need , and he nearly rips his shirt off of his body, composure slipping with each second that passes. Atsumu offered to let him watch, but now he’s not sure if he’s content to be just a bystander.

You hum and squeal when Atsumu pushes two of his fingers past your folds, pushing in and out at a gentle pace that you’re no doubt familiar with as he prepares you for greater things to come. “Yer so quiet, Kita. Are ya not enjoying yourself?”

The Lady  looks at him then, a gentle pinch to her brows. “Are you…not satisfied with me, my King?”

Atsumu flashes an exaggerated pout over your shoulder. “Yeah, my King. After exposin’ my wife like this for ya, is she not enough?”

“She’s beautiful,” he chokes, clears his throat but it has little effect with how thick with lust his voice has grown. “She’s perfect.”

The smile on your pretty little face does funny things with his head.

“Ya hear that, my love?” Atsumu holds you close and rocks you side to side. “The King thinks yer beautiful. I dunno if many ladies can say that. Say thank you.”

“T-Thank you, my King. I’m honoured,” you grin. Kita gives you a small smile in return, though it falters at the edges when Atsumu catches you off guard and thrusts his fingers into you with great speed. It sounds wet and hot and Kita’s hand wraps around the bulge in his pants, stiff and begging to be touched, especially when the usually composed Lady Miya in front of him whimpers and pants like you’re in heat, moving your hips in sensual ways and locking eyes with Kita to steal the air from his lungs.

“A-Atsumu!” you gasp, wrapping a hand behind you to grasp the hair of your husband, but the smirk stays on his face, enjoying your plight. “Be gentle!”

“You love it,” he shushes you, planting kisses on your neck and biting down on your shoulder when you grow too rowdy. “Besides, we promised King Kita a good show, didn’t we? I have to prepare ya, don’t want ya cryin’ because yer tight hole wasn’t ready to be filled.”

You moan loudly when Atsumu brushes over your clitoris roughly, small hands moving to cover your mouth, and it’s the final push Kita needed to remove his trousers and take his cock in hand.

You watch in silence as he undresses, eyes immediately zoning in on the length and girth of his member, biting your lip for a different reason than when your husband removes his fingers from your core. Atsumu brings them up to the light to look at them curiously. They’re soaked from knuckle to fingertip, and when he pulls them apart tendrils of your slick keep them connected. Kita’s overcome with the desire to touch it, to touch you, see how you taste.

The smile Atsumu gives him sends chills through his body, as if his Master of War had read his mind.

“I think he wants a taste, my sweet,” Atsumu rubs soothing circles into your hip with his free hand, keeping his calculating eyes on his King. “What do you think?”

“The King can have whatever he wants,” is your answer, hiding a smile in your husband’s jawline while he laughs. Fuck, they were going to drive Kita insane. What surprises him even more, is instead of offering your pussy for Kita to lose himself in, Atsumu holds out his hand, like offering his fealty to the King once more as he had sworn so long ago.

“Then by all means, have a taste.”

There is a moment where it’s entirely too silent save for the heavy breathing Lady Miya is trying to get under control. A million thoughts run through Kita’s mind as his eyes flicker between Atsumu’s fingers, his childhood friends’ face, and the naked woman before him. It feels like entirely new territory, uncharted waters that Kita has only thought about dipping his toes into before running back out for fear of falling too deep into the water.

But in Atsumu’s eyes there's nothing but trust and desire, and in your eyes there's encouragement and adoration. His heart hammers in his chest, and burns with the overwhelming love and support from his closest. It makes his limbs move before his brain can catch up, leaning forward with his mouth opening while Atsumu’s grin grows wider, taking the digits in his mouth before hesitation can settle.

It’s strange, to suck on your best friend’s fingers, long and thick in his mouth, calloused from years of sword fighting as his tongue brushes against the pads of his fingertips. He can barely taste the saltiness of his skin though, as your sweet juices invade his senses like a summer wine, pure and sweet like the woman they came from. He grabs hold of Atsumu’s wrist when he makes to remove them, licking and scraping his teeth on them in a way that makes Atsumu’s breath hitch with widened eyes, and Kita mentally records it as a win before slowly releasing with a pop, lines of spit breaking the further away Kita gets as he takes his place on his bed once more, precum leaking from his slit.

It is Lady Miya who breaks Atsumu out of his trance with a gentle hand cupping his cheek and turning his attention back to the situation at hand. The smile on your face is light-hearted, if not mischievous, a gleam to your eye letting Kita know that you enjoyed what you just witnessed. “I think, dear husband, I’m ready to get fucked hard for the King.”

An impish grin blooms on Atsumu’s flushed face immediately at his wife’s forwardness. Honestly, Kita had never expected the Lady to be this way. You had always been on the reserved side, befitting your rank and lessons in etiquette. Quiet, polite, spoke when spoken to. If someone had told him a few years ago when Atsumu had introduced you to Kita when you were still giving the twins lessons in etiquette that he would be witnessing you in such a lewd position and answering all of the fantasies he had locked away, he would have almost laughed out loud at the absurd notion.

Funny how life works.

“Should we let his Royal Highness choose how I do it?” The blonde pushes his hair out of his eyes, and both Lord and Lady Miya look at him, eyes alight with interest.

“I…,” Kita clears his throat, brain bringing forth images of every position imaginable. He squeezes the base of his cock. Save it for the grand finale. “I want the Lady on her hands and knees facing me.”

That causes Atsumu to laugh in delight.

“Ah, takin’ her from behind, like mounting a bitch in heat,” he snorts. You pout at the language, but Atsumu kisses it away, lips pressing lightly against the bridge of your nose until you’re smiling again. “Never would’ve assumed ya liked it that way. Not very proper, is it?” Atsumu comments.

“Are you here to question your King on what he likes in bed, or are you going to deliver on your promise and show me somethin’ good?” Kita remarks.

Atsumu delivers another laugh as he lifts his wife off of his lap and places her onto the soft, cushioned chaise lounge as promised, knees spread apart and encouraging you to lean onto your elbows.

For a moment, as Atsumu undresses, he regrets not choosing a position that allows him to watch more closely as he enters in and out of you, but any complaints he has dies when Atsumu spits into his hand and rubs at his stiff member, lining it up with your entrance. Kita nearly cums all over his hand when he locks eyes with the woman across from him as Atsumu pushes in with a sigh of relief, no doubt seeking any sort of pleasure for his aching cock just like Kita. At least he has a pussy to bury himself in. King Kita just has his fist.

Your eyes flutter as Atsumu goes deeper into your tight cavern, groaning and furrowing your brows while you clutch onto the chair beneath you. You whimper when he bottoms out, and are only given a moment to adjust while Atsumu looks at Kita in question.

‘Shall I start?’, he seems to say.

Kita nods, and watches in perverse fascination as Atsumu rears his hips back and thrusts forward once more, making you choke on a scream as he sets a relentless pace, not holding anything back.

Your moans mix with yelps and screams of pleasure as your husband pounds into you from behind, round hands on soft hips and curls loosening from where they were pinned back on your head. Kita’s eyes stay glued to where your tits bounce with the force, hand finally giving him some relief and stroking his weeping cock, unwinding some of the tension in his shoulders and stoking the fire in his gut. He wants to reach out and fondle your chest, your nipples, but stays his hand, fear of crossing that damned boundary getting to him.

Atsumu is loud, he realises, almost as loud as his wife is right now. He groans and he growls like a wild animal, so overcome by the feeling of his Lady, of everything that she is, and praises fall from his lips like the water rushes down the mountain’s peaks.

“F-Fuck, yer so tight, I love it,” he grits, reaching over to grab hold of your chest like Kita wanted to do so badly. “So wet for me, for your King. Ya love getting fucked in front of him, practically beggin’ me for weeks.”

Kit almost feels as if he shouldn’t be hearing this conversation, but such crude words make him fist his cock faster, wet with precum and helping him ease the friction of hand to dick.

“A-Atsumu, I-”

“Don’t lie,” he laughs. He pinches your nippple roughly, and earns himself a gasp. “Every time ya called me yer sweet King, you were thinkin’ ‘bout him, too. Weren’t ya?”

You can say nothing, only look at your ruler with unbridled lust in your eyes. It’s getting harder to breathe now as he pumps his dick in time with his friend’s thrusts, entranced by the look on your face and Atsumu’s voice.

“Thought s-so,” Atsumu stutters when he rubs at your clit and you squeez hard. “Well, I’d do anythin’ for ya. Guess that includes fuckin’ ya silly in front of your King.”

Atsumu tsk’s and lifts your torso up so Kita can have the best seat in the house. Eyes stay glued to where they are connected, pistoning in and out of your walls and glistening with your slick. It brings forth images of wanting to get closer, let his tongue feel the both of them at once but it's so outlandish that it brings heat to his cheeks and pushes him closer to his release, chest heaving with exertion as everyone in the room reaches a crescendo like a symphony of sex.

That is until Atsumu stops abruptly, and it's so sudden and odd when the sounds of skin slapping cease that it causes everyone to lose their high, cooling down with irritation and impatience.

Atsumu's chest heaves air with great effort, yet his eyes are sharp as he regards his King.

"I think," he starts, easing out of his wife slowly, making you whine at the loss. "King Kita is lookin' a lil lonely. And it's our duty as his advisors and subjects to serve the King, right my love?"

You blink in surprise, when a smile curls at the corner of your lips, one that you definitely learned from your husband. Affection blooms on Atsumu's face at your reaction.

"We should give him a hand," the blonde declares, and suddenly he's carrying his wife over to the royal bed, laying you down gently against the rich, maroon satins and silks, hair splayed around you in rivulets like water. With equal parts curiosity and hesitation lacing his limbs, he moves further up the bed at Atsumu's insistence, coming face to face with you as you smiled kindly at him, lidded eyes and bottom lip plump from where you bite it.

He gives you one in return, one of the rare, genuine smiles he reserves for when he's with his closest and when he's happy. The sound of a throat clearing snaps his attention back to where Atsumu kneels at the end of the bed, cock bouncing against his lower stomach with every shift on the featherbed.

"Does my King allow us to do as we please with him?"

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he says yes, aching to feel the touch of something other than his own hand for once. Atsumu smirks.

“Wonderful.”

Moving closer, all three find themselves huddled in a circle of sorts, with two sets of eyes hungrily staring at him. Atsumu looks at his wife, and she stares right back. It becomes apparent to Kita then and there, that there is no imbalance between them. Though you may fold your hands when appropriate and open your mouth when addressed in broad daylight, though Atsumu’s words and hands guide you behind closed doors and you part your legs for him like a blossoming flower, they are, without a doubt, equals in every sense of the word. Atsumu gazes at you with such adoration it would give the poets something to sing about for centuries to come, and he is certain that if you were to give an order, Atsumu would bend and do it for you, no questions asked.

It’s funny - the Master of War and the Master of Prosperity; two things that could never work hand in hand, but ultimately make for a wonderful pair.

And it makes Kita’s heart yearn for even a drop, an ounce of what they share, for someone to look at him the way they do each other.

“Maybe I should give you some tips on how to go about it, my sweet,” Atsumu says, and it’s all the warning Kita gets before a large, rough hand wraps itself around his member. He jerks at the feeling, eyes wide at the blonde smirking before him, and he looks frantically at the Lady beside him who offers nothing more than a demure upturn of her lips.

“What are you doing?” demands Kita, but the words end in a choke when Atsumu’s thumb swipes over the head of his cock.

“I’m showin’ my wife how to please ya.”

“I-I think she w-would..” Kita has to stop talking to emit a whimper when Atsumu’s hand squeezes his dick. He swallows hard. “I think she would know how to please a man by now.”

“Hmm, yer right. She sure does know how to get me going, but…”

He removes his hand from Kita’s shaft for a brief moment to lift his wife’s leg, dragging a hand through your thighs and bringing it back to Kita’s erection, now slick with his wife’s juices and providing smoother friction.

“No harm in remindin’ her of the lessons. Watch carefully, love.”

It moves expertly up and down his length, knowing when to twist and squeeze, when to go fast and slow. Kita’s hips jerk up into Atsumu’s hand, unable to help the sighs and moans flying out from his chest. It feels good, so so so good, and a softer, more feminine pair of hands scrape gently over his chest, toying with his pert nipples and sending sparks straight down to his groin.

“He seems to like that,” you whisper, pressing your lips to the pulse in his neck. Kita is positive it must be ready to burst from his skin right now, yet still you suck and nip and paint his skin in the most delicate hues while your husband’s hand increases in speed. His other hand reaches down to fondle Kita’s balls, heavy and begging for release. Whines and whimpers grow louder as he approaches that sweet edge.

Atsumu hums. “He’s got a pretty cock, doesn’t he, my love? I bet you’re just drippin’ thinkin’ ‘bout it inside ya. Hungry for another man's dick.”

You shiver from your spot beside Kita, a hand scratching at his scalp and sending tingles down his spine, and a pink tongue poking out to lick at his nipples.

“P-Please…” Kita begs.

“Well, ’m hungry myself,” Atsumu continues, and swiftly dips down to take the head of Kita’s cock into his mouth, sucking hard while his hand never ceases its upwards and downwards motion. It's wet and hot, and the swirling of Atsumu's tongue around his tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered is enough to make Kita moan aloud in surprise and pleasure. His face glowing red as he desperately thrusts into Atsumu's mouth but his brain is too clouded with lust to feel embarrassed at this moment.

His fingers grip onto rich bed sheets as he loses himself in the heat of Atsumu’s mouth, that mischievous tongue of his being put to good use and stroking the vein on the underside of his prick before bobbing up and down in time with his hand. It’s almost overwhelming, feeling tongues on different parts of his body but it feels glorious, to have these mouths worship and love him like he craves but never says aloud.

It feels like Atsumu’s mouth is barely on him for a moment before Kita is grasping onto the nearest things he could latch onto, Atsumu’s head of hair and your hand conveniently already in his, and he holds onto both for dear life as he cums with a loud and long groan, releasing into his friends mouth with surprise and twitching with the aftershocks when Atsumu keeps him in his mouth for a tad too long.

“T-Too much, please,” he stutters, and Atsumu takes pity on him for the time being, laughing at how wild and unkempt his King looks right now.

“I guess you’ll have to test out yer skills next time. Come here,” hands reach for his Lady’s face, and he lets drops of Kita’s cum still in his mouth fall into your own open and awaiting jaws, sealing it with a kiss that’s all tongue and wildness. The perverse sight of them sharing his fluids makes his cock twitch to life again with alarming speed, but it’s also the words echoing in his ears that stick with him.

Next time. Implying that this won’t be a once off thing, a strange night to remember for years to come.

It makes him hard in seconds, even after spilling his seed in his friend's mouth.

If the couple beside him are surprised at his recovery time, only Lady Miya shows it with a raise of your eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

“Do you wish for more, my King?” you ask, traces of his load shining on the corners of your lips. He stops himself from reaching over to lick it off.

“Yes,” Kita sighs, and his chest seems to deflate with the motion, his words needy and wanting. “Please - keep going.”

“What do you want? Anything for you,” your hand cups his face with such gentleness he could cry. How sad it must be, for the simple touch of a person could be enough to shake him.

“I n-need you, I want you on top of me-” he has to stop himself with a sharp intake of breath. Eyes wide with fear look over to where Atsumu sits, a uncharacteristically stoic look on his face that makes Kita’s anxiety flare up. After a moment of silent contemplation, he opens his mouth.

“Does my King command it?”

It offers Kita a moment to rethink his words, to retrace his steps before they were taken. And as he looks at the faces of his friends for any signs of discomfort, looks at you for clear rejection, he sees no hesitation or resistance in either of their expressions. Only eagerness, anticipation for what could come. It strengthens his resolve.

“He does,” Kita says, with the air and grace of the King in power he is. And Atsumu grins like that cat who got the cream.

“Perfect,” he sings. “Lay back, yer Grace. Let us do everythin’ for ya.”

Doing as told, Kita finds himself a comfortable spot against the pillows and cushions, cock resting hard on his belly and watching as Atsumu coaxes his wife to straddle his hips. Hands fly instinctively to the squishy flesh of your hips and thighs, smooth like satin, and his grip on you only grows tighter once he feels just how wet you are, practically dripping onto his lower abdomen. It drives him mad with excitement, knowing he’s seconds away from shoving himself into your tight hole.

“Go on,” Atsumu encourages when you look back at him in question. “I’ll help ya when ya need me.”

Biting your lip, you peer down at Kita.

“I’m ready,” he assures you with a squeeze of your hips. You reach down to grab his member and he hisses when you pump him a few times, dragging it up and down your soaked folds. He worries his bottom lip at the sensation, and just when he gets used to it you line him up with your entrance and begin to sink down on him, ever so slowly.

He loses the ability to breathe when your warm heat engulfs him. His eyelids flutter, his toes curl, and they haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. Atsumu hums in approval when you finally sink down, hips flush with Kita’s, sighing in unison. You can’t help the grinding of your hips, trying to accommodate his size and girth, but it makes him growl and still your hips. “Give me a second,” he pleads. And you do, leaning down to give him his first kiss of the night. He can taste himself on your tongue, taste Atsumu along with him, and your tongues tentatively brush and move against each other as you grow accustomed to the feeling of your lips on the others.

He catches his breath when you pull away, blinking out of a stupor, and it seems as though Atsumu has had enough with waiting, for he clears his throat loudly. “Ready to get started?” They both nod. “Good.”

With that said, Atsumu holds on tightly to your hips, hands over Kita’s that stay locked on your flesh, and begins to slowly lift you off of his cock, only to push right back down. Kita groans at the fluttering of your gummy walls around him, head thrown against the pillows while Atsumu increases the speed and pace with which he picks his wife's body up, getting you into a mindblowing rhythm and bouncing you on Kita’s member.

Atsumu certainly dictates the speed and rhythm right now, and the coil in Kita’s gut begins to make a reappearance with every clench of your pussy around him. You’re both at the mercy of Atsumu, who alternates between stealing the air from Kita’s lungs with bringing your hips down hard and fast, or slowly and maddeningly gyrating your hips so that Kita presses against every spot inside of you, massaging that sweet, spongy flesh hidden deep inside that has you gasping out a strange mix of their names and clawing onto Kita’s chest for stability.

“That feel good?” Atsumu asks. He’s met with a chorus of moans and whines from his Lady and his King, but he isn’t satisfied with that. “I said, does that feel good?”

“Y-Yes, my Lord!” You gasp, and are rewarded with kisses and nips to your neck by your husband. Dark eyes peer at Kita over your shoulder, demanding an answer from him as well.

“Yes,” the white haired man grunts. “F-Feels so fuck- fucking good.”

“My, my! Our King has a naughty mouth. My sweet, how does his cock feel?”

Your moans are light and breathless when Atsumu rocks your hips back and forth. Your juices stain Kita’s abdomen, and he’s tempted to reach out and swipe some up on his finger to lick. “He feels so big! So so so big, it’s too much, it’s- oh!”

Kita is almost as surprised as you are when Atsumu guides his King’s hand to your swollen folds, showing him how to rub at your clit with practiced motions. You careen in response, hips moving erratically and crying about how good it feels.

“Tell him, not me,” Atsumu laughs.

“Oh, my King, my sweet King, you feel amazing. I love your cock so much, stuffin’ me full, I can’t take it, I love it I love it I love it!”

Your praise, your words, the heat of your cunt; it all goes straight to his head and his heart, and the coil in his gut tightens dangerously, ready to burst his seed into you and fill you up, but Atsumu has your plans before he can reach his peak.

Atsumu lifts your hips up one final time, but doesn't bring them back down. The disappointment in the room is immeasurable, denied a high once more when they were just so close to falling off the edge. Lady Miya whines loudly and impatiently, having been denied her orgasm twice now.

"I know, baby, I know," Atsumu coos, pets your hair and soothes the furrow of your brows. "But I was gettin' a lil lonely over here. I wanna join in."

Your eyes light up in question, staring at him questioningly and obeying when he orders you to bend over. Chest to chest with Kita, the King cradles you closely, brushes loose strands of hair out of your eyes, and allows himself a simple peck to your lips, one that you return with two of your own.

But you jump in shock when Atsumu spreads your cheeks apart and spits loudly onto your rear.

"Atsumu! You...you mean to-"

"Shh. You trust me, don't ya?"

"Always," she answers without hesitation, and the smile he gives you is warm and full of love.

"Then just wait," he rubs a finger over your puckered hole, spreading the spit and watching in fascination how it responds to his touches. He loves your cunt like a drunk loves his wine, but your ass is just as addictive. Really, any part of you is more than enough for him.

You bite your lip when a finger dips in, struggling to accommodate the invasive digit. Kita distracts you with more kisses, hands on your breasts, pulling at your hardened nipples and drinking in your moans like he's breathing in the fresh air of the morning.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers in your ear, watching over your shoulder as Atsumu adds a second finger, pumps them in and out so carefully. The blonde reaches around to lightly toy with your clit - not enough to make you cum, but enough to make you relax and less restrictive. "He's lucky to have married ya."

"Shinsuke," she sighs into his own ears, and it sends shivers down his spine. It's very rare people can address him as Kita without his title, let alone his first name, but it sounds so beautiful coming from the lips of his friends.

"Yer doin' so well," Atsumu praises, free hand massaging the globe of your ass cheek once Kita’s clumsy fingers take over the role of rubbing your nub. "Stretchin' ya out real good. You want both of our cocks, don't ya?"

"I do, I want them so bad-"

"Think you can handle us?"

"Yes, please! God, Tsumu, I wanna be stuffed with both of your cocks-"

"Damn, you get loud when yer needy." Atsumu drags his erection through the folds of your pussy, gathering as much of your juices to coat his dick once again before he lines it up with your back entrance. "We'll take things nice and slow."

It seems as if Atsumu is reassuring more than just his wife with that statement, and Kita is grateful for it.

You bite down on the skin of his shoulder when Atsumu removes his fingers and presses the tip of his dick at your hole. You’re clenching hard and gasping at the stretch, and Kita works with Atsumu to soothe your cries and kiss away your tears.

He kisses your lips when you give a harsh wail as Atsumu presses in further, not even halfway in yet but groaning at how tight it feels. He spits once again where you're both connected while you twitch and sigh as Kita's fingers return to your swollen bud.

"Yer doing amazing, such a good girl," Kita peppers your cheeks with light kisses, and with one last thrust Atsumu is fully seated with his cock in your ass, glassy eyed and chest heaving with tension as he gives the pair of you a moment to adjust.

He bends over to lick and kiss a line up your spine. "Your turn Shinsuke." Kita stalls, wondering for a moment if you really are ready to take them both at once, but Atsumu mistakes his silence for hesitation. "Need help with that?"

Lord Miya reaches down to gently guide Kita towards your sopping hole, and he sucks in a breath as your hips lower agonisingly slow to sink down on him until both of their members are filling you to the brim.

You're a panting and whining mess atop of him, fighting to catch your breath whilst Kita fights to make sense of what he's feeling right now. He can nearly feel Atsumu press against him through a thin layer inside of your pussy, every budge of his hips making his chest tighten at the friction.

"Tell us when to move," your husband says. After a moment of getting used to the stretch with little twitches of your hips, you nod frantically.

"I'm OK, you can move."

"I'll let Kita do the honours," Atsumu smirks.

Lifting his legs higher up the bed for leverage, Kita gives an experimental thrust into your core. It feels so good when you clamp down with a whimper, and so he does it again, and again, until he's set a slow but steady rhythm and enjoys the look of pleasure on your face, the way you bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning too loud but failing miserably.

Gradually becoming more comfortable and succumbing to pleasure, Atsumu begins to move gently, pulling out slowly and pressing back in, so as not to disrupt Kita’s flow but your reaction is immediate, a sharp gasp and a whine for more, arching your back and trying to reach behind to your husband. He leans over to allow you to thread fingers through his hair, and begins to grind faster into you, trying to match Kita’s pace and intensity.

“S-Shit, yer so tight, yer... fuck-” he curses and stutters his hips. “God I love ya- I love ya so much.”

“Please, g-give me m-more!”

“My pretty little slut,” he coos, and you sob into Kita’s chest. “So- fuck, so fuckin’ greedy. You wanna get fucked hard?”

“Gods, yes! I want to be full of your cum, please please please-”

“S-Shit,” he swears, and Kita watches as the careful, calculated look Atsumu kept in his eyes all night suddenly turns wild, frenzied, just about ready to tear you apart like you desired. “You asked for it, pretty girl.” He gives Kita a look. “Ready?”

The King nods. “Ready.”

The blondes' lips curl up at the edges, and you’re only given a moment before both sets of cocks begin ramming into you with such great force that it has you falling on top of Kita, where he wraps his arms around your frame to keep you steady. Words turn into coherent babbles and cries as they piston in and out of you in near perfect unison, and it’s the friction Kita so desperately craved as your wet walls and Atsumu’s shaft rub him so deliciously that his orgasm rears it head once more, building so perfectly and steadily that he feels like he’s reaching Cloud Nine.

Kita unwinds one of his arms from around your waist to reach Atsumu’s ass to give the flesh an affectionate squeeze, causing him to meet Kita’s eyes over your head. Atsumu leans down to capture Kita’s lips in a sloppy kiss, one that’s more tongue and spit and passion than anything else, and the King barely has any second to catch air when he pulls away before your tongue prods at his lips, lips that he opens willingly like heavenly gates. And when Atsumu joins in again, and he feels two messy sets of tongues invade his mouth, one rough and demanding, the other soft and sweet, he can do nothing more than let out a whine and try to keep up with the wonderful sensations taking hold of his body.

He’s given some reprieve when Atsumu pulls back to sit up, grasping at your hips and fucking into you so fast you’re stupefied, mouth hanging open and drooling on Kita’s chest. He doesn’t mind - rather, he doesn’t really notice, too busy focusing on your bouncing tits in front of his eyes, on the occasional brush of Atsumu’s sack on his skin, and the rising coil in his gut, ready to snap at any moment.

Hips jump erratically off the bed when Atsumu rubs at your clit hard and fast, nearly crushing Kita’s cock from how tightly you squeeze the both of them as your husband brings you to your mind shattering end.

“I’m cumming! I’m- I-”

It’s all you’re able to say as your peak washes over you in waves of heat, and he feels your juices gush out on top of his skin as you do so. Fuck, he’s nearly there, so close, just a bit more-

“I’m c-close, I’m so close-” Kita stutters.

“Cum for me,” Atsumu growls, pounding into your ass with abandon while you fall onto Kita’s torso, arms wrapped around his neck and sobbing so pitifully in his ear. “Cum for us, Shinsuke.”

It’s the push he needed. He’s shooting his seed into your core with a strangled shout, pumping load after load right into you while Atsumu follows, unloading into your ass with a curse and a moan of your name, going balls deep and spilling all that he has while your walls milk them for all that they have.

Atsumu collapses on top of both of you with a tired sigh, and while Kita’s body protests at the added weight, his mouth can’t quite catch up with his brain at the moment, so he simply lays there as the heat of the room falls over all of you like a blanket.

Both cocks begin to soften inside of you. Ever so gently, they pull out, seed escaping your holes and dripping slowly onto the sheets as you whine at the loss and clench around nothing, feeling so terribly empty and almost wishing they had stayed inside of you. But it gives you an opportunity to rest, and Atsumu flips you on your side until he’s laying you down on the bed, littering kisses all over your body and singing praises about how well you did for them, how much of a good girl you are.

You smile sleepily, exhaustion overtaking your limbs, and Kita can only cup your face and rub his thumbs on your cheekbones, uncertain if kissing you would be crossing a line now that the deed has been done. You arch into his touch while Atsumu leaves to get a cloth.

“Was that ok for you, my King?”

Ah. Of course you would put him above yourself. He smiles warmly at that.

“That was wonderful. You were perfect,” he answers honestly, and you practically glow with pride at his words. When Atsumu returns, Kita takes the cloth, opting to be the one to clean the mess between your legs. It’s the least he could do after all that they’ve done for him.

It grows silent once he finishes, looking over to see Atsumu holding you close from behind. Your eyelids are drooping and your eyes grow hazy with every kiss and rub Atsumu gives to you, yet when Kita is about to excuse himself, to find solitude in a bath and let the married couple have his bedchambers for the night, you reach out to him, wanting to hold him, his face, to bring it close to you and trap him for the night.

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to…” he trails off with uncertainty. Atsumu snorts, offering him a kind and warm smile.

“The Lady always gets what she wants,” he jokes, and Kita lets out a fond laugh. “Besides - yer the King.”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” he replies. And he means it. But his heart begs for the opposite, for you to not let him go and let him rest his head on your heart.

It seems as though you hear his thoughts.

“I want you to stay,” you murmur, sleepy but resolute in your words. “Do you want to stay?”

His eyes flicker back and forth between husband and wife. He could leave. He could end things right here, pretend like tonight never happened and go on existing as King like he always has. Things would become too complicated if he stayed. He knows this. And yet…

“I do,” he whispers, and curls into the warmth of your chest while Atsumu rubs at his hair with a fondness not common in him. Kita feels, for once in his life, at home. No castle too big and warm can ever compare to this. “I do want to stay.”

“Well then,” Atsumu says warmly, while you finish his sentence.

“Stay.”

[mellowyandere]

One Hell of a Logical Ruse Part 1

Reader: F

Characters: Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead) 

Summary: Shouta loves a good game of cat and mouse, unfortunately for you the game’s a little rigged. This is somewhat of an experiment to try and write a smut scene from the male POV. Disclaimer I am not a man so uh yeah lmao. 

Based off the pre-established fic You’re Ours to Protect. 

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, praise kink

Aizawa Shouta was a rational man. He did his best to adhere to logic, and to never waste time with unnecessary action. And yet despite this, he absolutely loved watching you try to escape. You were pretty clever, even without him “accidentally” forgetting to lock the second story window that just so happened to be above some forgivingly soft shrubbery. 

You probably would have figured some way out on your own, but something feral inside him didn’t want to wait around for you to act. Normally it was his ever-loud husband Hizashi that fell flat when it came to the notion of patience, but today he would relent to his own selfish desires. 

Toshinori would have been utterly distressed had he been aware of the sleepy pros scheme. The number one was a man of swift action, seemingly never thinking twice before charging fist first into danger. He would not be happy Shouta was playing with you like this, but Toshinori and Hizashi wouldn’t be made aware of his little game with you. After all they had no idea he set this up, so they might genuinely try to punish you. He’d keep it quiet once he caught you and pretend it’s your little secret. Maybe you’d even be a little grateful if you believed he was saving your skin.

He rationalized his behavior by telling himself you seemed so bored, truly this was the perfect way to stimulate your mind and body. So when he heard the telltale sound of a body landing in bushes on the back side of the house he simply started a timer for 20 minutes to give you a bit of a head start. 

Was it cruel to get your hopes up like this? Perhaps, but he’d make sure to fuck you senseless to alleviate the disappointment. After all, if you were a good girl you’d have settled into your life with them already. But you really did enjoy testing them, which brought out the side of him that wanted to put you in your place. 

Giving himself a once over he made sure he had everything he would need for your inevitable return home. Well, now that you were basically quirkiness, all he needed was his capture weapon just in case you put up a struggle. He hadn’t decided yet if he was going to fuck you when he caught you, or if he was going to haul your cute ass home first. 

Thinking about plowing into you with adrenaline still pumping through his veins from the hunt had some blood rushing below his belt. Well he could always just do both.

The shrill ringing of his phones alarm brought him back from his wandering thoughts. With a sadistic grin stretching wide across his face he headed for the front door.

-----

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks trapped inside that house with three insane men. Sure they might not beat you or starve you, but the constant belittling, undermining and infantilizing was about to drive you to insanity yourself. You almost jumped for joy when you noticed an unlocked window on the second floor in Hizashi’s and Shouta’s room. The blond man had a bad habit of using too much cologne, and his dark-haired counterpart was always having to air out the room when the radio star went overboard. 

Eraserhead was normally very diligent about ensuring the window was sealed tight, but last night Toshinori had come home in a flurry of smoke and blood, sending his blond junior into hysterics. It was nothing serious, unfortunately, but Shouta had been the one to calm Hizashi and tend to the number ones injuries. Amidst all the ruckus he had left the window unlocked. 

You knew Shouta would soon realize his mistake and lock the window down tight, leaving you with a small time frame to enact your grand escape. It wasn't ideal, but the best you had been able to do was wait for both blonds to leave, trapping you in the house with Shouta. Normally he let you be during the day, opting to nap and grade what appeared to be homework. Hopefully today would seem like just another day, and he wouldn’t think to check on you until dinner approached. 

You found yourself perched on the window sill, ready to take flight. All you had were the clothes on your back, not wanting to make any suspicious noises that would tip you off. On the count of three you braced yourself and pushed off from the ledge, landing on the bushes below with a thud. 

Fuck, that was a bit louder than you had anticipated. Ignoring your growing anxiety, you made quick work of escaping the clutches of the now flattened bush and took off into the woods on the back half of the house. 

Your heart was hammering like mad in your chest as you sprinted as fast as you could. It was hardly fair that it was your first time outside in three weeks and you couldn’t even slow down to take it all in. Thankfully it was spring, meaning you wouldn’t have to worry about the cold. All you needed to do was find someone to get this stupid quirk canceling collar off and then you could safely recede into the background, making sure the three pros never found you again. 

Easier said than done when one of those pros was All Might, and the other two were just as formidable, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try. You did your best to not leave a trail behind, but knew once Shouta figured out you were gone he’d have no trouble tracing your tracks. It was the unfortunately shitty reality you were dealing with. 

Were you really going to be able to escape? Even now as you ran as fast as you could it felt like a fruitless endeavor. There were too many variables that had to line up perfectly in order for you to pull this off, and as you ran directionless through the woods no viable solutions were coming to you. Hell, even now your lungs were burning from exertion, legs begging you to stop. 

But if there was one thing that you were it was stubborn. Stubborn to a fault sometimes, and so you pushed onwards. After what felt like an eternity of non-stop running you slowed to a walk. The forest seemed never ending, taunting you with its sprawling army of trees and shrubbery. You decided to be more mindful of the tracks you were leaving, veering off course in a way that would hopefully go undetected. 

Now no longer running you simply kept your steps quiet and ears alert in case Shouta had already discovered your absence. He was good at his work, but even he had limitations. 

-----

Shouta had to give credit where credit was due, you were better at this than he thought you’d be. If you were his student he’d be proud, but you were his prey so he was a bit annoyed. At first your tracks had been sloppy, easy to follow and incredibly straight forward. At some point though you had changed your approach, footsteps almost vanishing as you adopted a new tactic. 

He found himself crouching low, inspecting leaves to see which you had accidentally broken. There were no more snapped limbs as you carefully maneuvered through the woods. If he wasn’t a pro at hunting people down you probably would have been able to evade him, but this was his livelihood. 

Ever so carefully he followed your almost invisible trail. He had you beat in endurance so you’d have to settle somewhere eventually, and without food and water you were at a distinct disadvantage. Everything was lining up in his favor as he intended, even if you were making this a little harder than expected. 

The anticipation of catching a glimpse of you, of watching you realize he was there and taking off, made his heart beat faster. The longer you evaded him, the more time he had to come up with a fun punishment for you. 

-----

The sun had been directly overhead at the beginning of your escape, and was now kissing the horizon. Oranges and reds were thrown about the woods as the creatures of the night began to wake from their slumber. You listened to see if you could hear the chirping of frogs to find a water source but no luck. 

There was no doubt in your mind that Shouta was 110% aware of your absence by now and was probably hot on your trail. You were zigzagging a bit, trying your best to not disturb the forest floor while making it harder to track you. Dammit this was the fucking worst, it had to have been at least 6 hours in these woods, and without any food or water you were famished. 

And yet despite wandering about for 6 fucking hours you had yet to see anything besides the woods. Maybe you should just give up, sit down and accept defeat and whatever punishment you had awaiting you. You couldn’t help but shiver a bit at the fear of what that would entail. 

As dusk quickly turned dark you debated on whether or not you were going to rest for the night. Visibility would be lower, giving you a slight edge, but Eraserhead was a night owl meaning you were entering his domain of peak performance. There was also no guessing if he was the only one looking for you. All Might could move faster than you could even comprehend and Present Mic was fine-tuned when it came to noise location. 

Sighing in annoyance as your wayward thoughts shot holes through your confidence you decided to find somewhere to try and lay down for a bit. If all three were out hunting you down they could take turns and overlap the time so you never got to rest. As busy as they should be with hero work they always seemed to find too much time to hover around you. 

Spotting some dense shrubbery, you crossed your fingers that any creepy crawlies would keep to themselves and carefully began to conceal yourself. Perhaps one of them would pass by and you could gain some intel. If you were lucky they’d write this area off after not finding you and search elsewhere. 

Settling as comfortably as one could in a bush you closed your eyes and did your best to focus on the sounds around you. The melodic chirping of crickets was the most overwhelming of all the sounds. Skittering of small forest animals echoing around as well. Your mind began to desensitize to those sounds, the lack of adrenaline that pushed you along at the start of all this causing it to dip into unconsciousness. 

That was until you heard the distinct snap of a branch. Eyes flying open you were on high alert as you kept still. You tried to hear if there would be any follow up sounds, knowing something of a decent size had to have broken the branch. If it had been a deer they would have simply kept moving, which made you all the more anxious. 

“No more tracks kitten, I know you’re here somewhere. This little game dragged on a lot longer than I had anticipated so it seems there won’t be any way to hide this from Zashi and Toshinori.” 

You wanted to scream. Even though you had tried your best it simply wasn’t enough against Eraserhead. 

“If you come out kitten I’ll give you one last shot to run. Those bushes over there look like a mighty fine hiding spot for someone of your size.” His voice was pointed directly towards you.

FUCK. You couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not at this point but he knew you were here, might as well come out with some dignity before he dragged you out kicking and screaming. 

The bush rustled loudly as you forced your way out. You were tired, famished and most of all so frustrated you wanted to cry. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he had a condescending smirk plastered to his face. 

“There’s my pretty kitty, did you have fun outside?”

Shouta knew just what to say to strike a nerve, but you held your tongue. “One last shot to run. You said so yourself. Ditch the capture weapon and catch me like a man, I mean unless you don’t think you can. I’m already quirkiness which is your gimmick on a regular day, so really you're just beating on someone while they're already down.” You looked up now, glaring at him as his smile grew in amusement. 

“I’m going to have to be a lot more physical without it you know, I’ll have no choice but you manhandle you.”

“I’d rather take my chances.” You knew even without his capture weapon you didn’t stand much of a chance of escape. Your only goal now was to try and see how much he was willing to handicap himself. 

“Gonna give me a head start or are you going to just run as soon as I do?”

At this Shouta had to keep himself from snarking back at you. He had already given you a head start, but if he told you this was all set up you’d probably lose the will to fight on. “Five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes to run as far as you can and then I’ll come after you,” he said while pulling out his phone. 

“What about Toshinori and Hizashi?” 

“At the house. I told them I’d handle this, Toshinori will be coming to get us though once I tell him game over. We’re pretty deep in the woods and I don’t feel like walking back for six hours.”

You nodded at his words. So it was just the two of you then. Your combat skills were nothing to write home about, but maybe if you fought dirty you could gain the upper hand. 

“Alright, tell me when.”

“Oh, I already started it. You have 4 minutes and 17 seconds.”

Fucking asshole. You took off sprinting, running as fast as you could, only opting to slow to a jog once you thought you were out of earshot. You wanted him to believe you’d be trying your damndest to put distance between the two of you. But you knew you’d never outrun him. Instead you were going to continue jogging for a bit, counting down the seconds in your head so you didn’t lose track your timer. 

Once your remaining time was up you were going to lay low and try to ambush him. He wouldn’t be paying as close attention to your trail since he knew he could easily catch up. 

After the remaining 4 minutes had passed you found a decent sized tree to hide behind and worked on slowing down your breathing. It felt like your heart was going to chisel its way straight through your bones, your limbs trembling with anxiety. It wasn’t often you were hunted back when you were an anti-hero. Not many people knew who you were which made it incredibly easy to be looked over. 

Scooping up handfuls of dirt you waited. You heard him before you saw him. He wasn’t bothering to take it slow, seemingly eager to get it over with. He ran right past you, noticing you a second too late as dirt and debris were chucked straight into his face. 

He yelled out in surprise, hands reaching out to grab you but you jumped out of reach. True to his word his capture weapon was nowhere in sight. Screaming in anger you lunged at him, nails attempting to claw his face but his own larger hands were working on wiping off your dirt assault, effectively blocking you.  

He stumbled back a bit, unprepared for your hostility, before steadying himself and turning the tables back on you. In one swift motion his fist collided with your gut, forcing the air from your lungs. Your arms came down to protect where he had hit as you wheezed pathetically. Seconds later his larger frame came crashing into you, easily knocking you to the ground. 

You cried out in pain, head hitting the ground a bit too hard as stars danced behind your eyes.

“Not very smart of you Y/N, I mean it beats trying to outrun me, but really? Dirt? It’s like you want me to punish you or something.”

“GET OFF ME!” 

Placing a hand on the back of your head he pushed you down while his other arm pulled the lower half of your body flush against him. You could feel his erection pressing up against your ass.

You were a snarling sobbing mess at this point. All your emotions crashing down at once as you thrashed below Shouta.

“Easy now easy, calm down kitten. You did really good, better than I thought you were going to. If you calm down I might be willing to reduce your punishment, but you have to stop throwing a fit first.”

Despite his words Shouta was enjoying almost every second of your thrashing. The only thing he didn’t enjoy was knowing how disappointed you were right now. Anyone would be after coming so far. Now was his chance to make it up to you before giving Toshinori the go ahead. 

As your struggles subsided the only movement from your body was from your gentle sobs. Shouta for his part was slowly grinding his hard cock against your ass as he softly shushed you. 

“I know you’re disappointed kitten but I’ll make you feel better. If you’re a good girl for me I’ll be willing to look past that little dirt tactic. You’re such a smart girl though, you really did catch me by surprise.”

Leaning down he began to whisper into your ear, removing the hand from your head and bringing it down to your clothed pussy. 

“You always were resourceful, it’s one of the things I fell in love with about you. If only you were a hero, but then again if you were I wouldn’t have had the fun of hunting you down.”

You felt your stomach drop at his words. All three of them enjoyed reminiscing about how they first saw you and all their subsequent actions that lead to your imprisonment. The effort they had put into bringing you “home”. It was beyond disturbing. 

“Please Shouta, not here. Can we, can we just go home first?”

“Maybe if I had found you 4 hours ago, but right now you’re treading on very thin ice. Be a good girl for me and I’ll make sure Hizashi and Toshinori don’t punish you too harshly when we get back.”

His large hand was pawing at your clothed sex, black hair draping over your own face as his body curled around you. He slowly rutted against you, excited huffs of air ghosting across the side of your face. You could practically feel his heart vibrating against your back he was so worked up. 

He gently rubbed his stubble against the side of your face, composure slipping a bit. While Shouta absolutely loved how feisty you could be, nothing compared to when you submitted to him. He craved the feeling of your tired body giving in to his ministrations, but he needed more. 

His hand quickly slipped between your pants and underwear, index finger eagerly aiming for your folds. He couldn’t care less that you were sweaty and dirty from the hunt. Right now all he could think about was the softness of your exposed flesh, and much to his delight, the slight wetness to your outer lips. 

“Seems like someone likes being caught more than they let on hmm kitten?”

He couldn't help but taunt you a bit, loving the way you sniffled and whimpered beneath him. You knew when to behave yourself, when to be good for him. Arousal was flooding his veins. The way it felt to rub himself against your perfect ass, even through layers of clothes, had his mind blanking out. 

Your core was warm, even without him dipping a finger inside. Gently he began to delve deeper, gathering up your arousal to spread around. Your pants were starting to bother him a bit, retracting his hands he made quick work of not only your bottoms, but his as well. You remained still for him, opting to sulk like a child as he prepared to ravish you. 

You were too cute like this, and with the lower half of your body on full display he couldn't help but groan in delight. Bringing a hand down he slapped your ass hard, mesmerized by the way your flesh gave way. You yelped in surprise, body rutting forward. His cock twitched as he palmed your sore flesh, cooing softly in apology. You glared back at him, pretty little face set in a pout.

As much as he wanted to slap your ass until you cried for him to stop he restrained himself. Although this was a punishment, he had set you up. He would go easy on you, not forgetting his promise to himself to help you forget the frustration you were feeling right now. 

Whenever you got angry you opted to stop talking, instead waiting for a moment of weakness to strike or quietly accept your fate. Judging by your defeated expression he could safely assume the latter 

Folding himself over you he brought his hand back down to your pussy, thumb working slow circles on your clit while he middle finger delved deeper. Your entrance was a bit tight, but with gentle persistence he worked his way inside. 

Your velvety inner walls clamped down on him. He couldn’t help but rut his aching cock against your bare ass as his mind drifted to the feeling of you clamping down on his arousal instead. Your whines of protest only further spurring on his overwhelming need to be inside you. 

Adding a second finger he began to pump into you with a bit more urgency. Your slick was quickly coating his hand as he hit all the spots he knew would work you up to your orgasm. Groaning in delight he brought his lips to your exposed neck, sucking and nipping at your soft flesh. 

He loved when he could tell you were getting close. Your warm walls would clamp down on him, breathy mewls and moans escaping your soft lips. You were rocking back into him, uncaring of the fact that you were grinding against him as you chased your release. In these moments you abandoned your resolve to fight against him, and he happily took advantage of that. After all, if your body knew what you wanted, surely your mind would catch up one day.

Your moans were more audible now, hands grasping at the forest floor. Your back was arched into him, desperate to use him. So close, you were so close he knew it, and right before you could finish he pulled his hand away. He laughed as you huffed in frustration. 

“Shouta pl-please.” Fuck, he loved it when you begged. It didn’t happen often with how stubborn you were but when it did he knew he had to comply. 

Instead of verbally responding he opted to do what he wanted to all night long. Lining up the tip of his cock to your entrance he groaned at the heat radiating off you. Pumping his hand along his length a couple times to lube himself up with your excess fluid he pushed the tip in. You stilled beneath him, and in one swift movement he fully sheathed himself. 

His mind went blank as you cried out in pleasure, wet walls convulsing around him as your orgasm tore through you. He held still, opting to gently pet you while cooing softly down at you. Before he met you, even with Hizashi, he had never been very vocal during sex. But now he couldn’t stop himself from babbling a bit, praising you for being such a good girl. 

As your body stilled in his arms he continued to plant kisses along your delicate neck. Your soft sniffles made his heart clench a bit, how was it possible for you to be so damn cute? 

“Alright kitten now it’s my turn. No pulling anything stupid, I won’t take long.”

This whole hunt had been one giant tease, working him up in a way he normally wouldn’t allow himself. Pulling out he groaned at the feeling of his cock sliding against you. Moving his hands he grabbed your waist, eyes transfixed on where you were joined. Your back was arched as you braced yourself on your elbows, presenting yourself to him. 

His mind clouded over, blood opting to drag his attention elsewhere. He began to push back in, desperate to feel you surrounding him. Setting a tempo he pulled about halfway out before slamming back in, loving the way your body moved as you bounced off him. 

His hands dug into your supple flesh, possibly leaving bruises. He could feel the oncoming of his own orgasm, the muscles in his lower abdomen pulsating. He was panting, heart racing in his rib cage as his eyes rolled back into his head. He didn’t have the patience to edge himself today, he needed this, needed you.

He loved hearing the way your breath was forced from your lungs when he fully sheathed himself inside you. He knew he was overstimulating you a bit, but the part of him that needed to find his own release didn’t pay that fact much mind. All he could think about was the way it felt to be one with you, lost inside your soft warmth.  

After only a couple more minutes of relentlessly pounding into you he couldn’t hold it back any longer. A wave like sensation rushed through his body as his hips stuttered. He folded over you, wrapping his arms around you as he felt his hot cum rush through his cock and fill your body. The emotions rushing through him as he released into you, the woman he loved, were indescribable.

It didn’t take long for his muscles to relax, euphoria swept away by the need to take a nap washing over him. You had long since stopped crying, remaining motionless beneath him. He wondered what was going through your mind as he held you flush against him.

“Sho-Shouta.” So meek, so quiet. His heart fluttered a bit. “Can we go home now... I want to take a shower.”

Chuckling softly he pulled himself out, groaning a bit at the feeling of overstimulation as your warm walls dragged against him. Leaning away he smiled as his cum leaked out your pussy. 

“Yes kitten we can go home. I’ll make sure to clean you up.”

You groaned in protest, hating when they insisted on washing you. He knew you liked your privacy but Hizashi and Toshinori were still going to want to punish you. He’d keep close by to keep them from being too harsh. 

Pulling up his pants he fished his phone out of his pocket, rolling his eyes at the sheer quantity of missed calls from the two aforementioned. Poor little kitten, it didn’t look like you’d be getting off easy. 

[jokerscrazybrilliant]

Survive - Chapter 2 - (Captain Rex)

Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4

Story on other platforms:

Quotev · AO3

________

“Master Kenobi,” I bowed my head to him as I entered the briefing room, reciprocating the smile he gave me.

“Hello Nimra, I hope you’re doing well today?” Master Kenobi was, as always, kind and warm, I had only heard about him before being assigned to Master Skywalker but now that I had met him, I wished I could’ve gotten the opportunity to learn from him sooner.

“Well, I’m glad the two of you are getting along.” Anakin commented, seeming to feel ignored. I smirked as I turned to face him, bowing deeply and exaggeratedly.

“Master Skywalker, you’re important too!” I grinned as Obi Wan laughed behind his hands at my teasing.

“Very funny Nim, we’re actually in the middle of a debriefing if you hadn’t noticed.” He gestured to the conference table where Captain Rex and Commander Cody of Obi Wan’s 212th battalion stood.

“Gentlemen,” I greeted as we joined them at the table, earning a polite nod from each in return. “My first mission?” I turned to ask Anakin, unable to hide my excitement. It had only been a few days onboard Master Skywalker’s ship, but that paired with my time on Coruscant, I had been out of the action for far too long.

Anakin shook his head at me with a small smile, “Not for you, not a mission. Just routine inspections of the outer rim outposts.”

“However, I think it would be good for Nimra to join the captain and Commander Cody. I believe it will be good for her to familiarize herself with the standard procedures and how these bases operate.” Master Kenobi said, stroking his beard in thought.

Anakin shrugged at me. “It won’t be too long, and as long as the commanders don’t mind, I don’t see anything wrong with it,” he looked to the clones in question.

“We don’t mind at all, General.” Commander Cody said, giving me a small nod.

“Alright then, that’s settled. You three can get underway then. And don’t forget to check in.” Master Obi-Wan said, then turning to analyze some information on screen.

Anakin pulled me aside before letting me follow them out. “I know you’re here to learn from me, Nim, but these clones have more experience than you and I combined. Make sure you show them the respect they deserve, and use this opportunity to learn from them, as well.”

I bowed my head respectfully, showing him I understood. “Of course, Master.” With that he gave me a pat on the shoulder and a small smile and headed to Master Obi-Wan.

“Have fun!” He gave a wave over his shoulder, and I smiled and walked out to catch up with the commanders.

I might’ve been offended that Master Skywalker felt the need to tell me to be respectful to the clone commanders, but I had heard enough comments from my peers to show that not all Jedi, and not all people, were as respectful as they should be towards our soldiers. While they fought valiantly and gave their lives to protect us, we had people insulting them, and viewing them as less-than. I couldn’t stand that, I had ended friendships with such disrespectful people, and I just couldn’t understand where they were coming from.

Shaking these thoughts out of my head, I quickly made my way to the hangar, not wanting to be left behind.

***

Inspecting the bases was very, very far from interesting, and I huffed as we finally settled in the ship, setting the route for the final base we had to check, the Rishi Outpost. It was definitely a learning opportunity, but I felt like I was back in the classroom, learning all sorts of codes and procedures I needed to have memorized. However, thankfully I didn’t have to do very much, rather I just observed, Commander Cody taking the lead on all the inspections thus far.

I could see how the commander and Master Obi-Wan got along, both of them having a high regard for protocol and rules, whereas Captain Rex was a little more flexible to adjust more to Anakin’s… unique way of doing things.

“You doing alright, commander?” Rex turned to look at me in the small open cockpit, smirking slightly at my slouched posture in the chair.

Giving him an expression that should’ve fried him where he was, I sat up straight, cursing him in my mind. “Fantastic, captain.” I forced the most polite smile I could muster.

“Good.” I didn’t miss the amusement that shone in his eyes, making me thankful I had been assigned to this particular battalion. I wasn’t sure I would’ve made it with Cody’s more serious personality.

“I’m going to contact the Generals, let ‘em know where we’re at.” The commander in question spoke up, gaining both Rex and I’s attention.

I nodded. “Good idea, commander.”

Me and Rex watched silently as Cody opened the frequency to contact Master Obi-Wan. “General Kenobi, General Skywalker,” Commander Cody greeted as they appeared in the transmission.

“Cody. How goes the inspections?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The tracking station at Pastel is fully operational. Captain Rex, Commander Nimra and I are proceeding to the outpost in the Rishi system.”

“Good. Report back once you’ve arrived.”

“Copy that. Cody out.” He ended the transmission as Rex set the ship into hyperspace.

“How long to the Rishi outpost?” I asked

“Feeling tired sir?” Rex turned his head to eye me in question.

“No of course not, I just want to know so that I can prepare myself.” I glowered at him.

“It won’t be a long ride, commander, Rishi isn’t far from here.” Commander Cody piped in.

“Thank you, Cody.” I gave him a sweet smile, wanting to be on his good side since he and Master Kenobi were friends.

“Not a problem sir.”

***

The trip to the outpost really wasn’t far and I was excited for the boring protocol checks to come to an end. Commander Cody signaled the base as we made our approach. “Rishi Outpost, this is Commander Cody, do you copy? Rishi Outpost, please respond.” My brows furrowed as it took them a while to respond to our hails.

“Sorry, commander, we’re experiencing technical difficulties.” A voice responded from over the comms.

“This is the inspection team,” Cody responded.

“Inspection? Negative, we do not require an inspection. Everything is fine here, thank you.” I shared a look with Rex at this strange response. They knew to expect us, and they were speaking with a superior officer, so what was with the unwillingness to comply?

“We’ll be the judge of that. Prepare for our arrival.”

“Roger, roger.” At this Cody shut off the comm, looking uneasy.

“Something’s not right here.” Rex commented, frowning as we approached the landing pad.

“Well, good luck. I’m putting you in charge of this one. I know Commander Sayla has been taking notes, let’s see how well you’ve been paying attention.” Cody said to Rex, me smirking at him behind Cody’s back teasingly.

“Well, you two go ahead, I’ll join you in a moment, I’ll just contact Master Skywalker and update him on our whereabouts.” The two men nodded at me before exiting the ship, leaving me to turn on the comm, tuning in to the correct frequency to reach Master Anakin. A small frown formed on my face as I was met with nothing but static.

Confused, I turned to follow after Rex and Cody. They were talking to an officer out on the deck. A flare showed in the sky, briefly catching my attention before I turned back to see Rex pulling out his pistol, shooting the officer in the head. “Rex are you mad?!” I shouted, running up to the two quickly.

“Relax, commander,” Rex responded, unconcernedly. He reached down and pulled off the dead officer’s helmet to reveal the faceplate of a droid, but not an ordinary battle droid. “Just as I thought. Looks like one of those new commando droids.”

“That flare must have come from the survivors.” Commander Cody noted.

Shots rung out around us as more of those droids revealed themselves, and they had us surrounded. Well, this is going well, I thought to myself sarcastically. “Ambush!” Rex shouted, moving back to find cover.

“Really? And here I thought it was just the welcome party.” I responded over the noise of fire, deflecting bullets to cover the two soldiers behind me.

“Those clankers have tough armour!” Cody commented frustratedly.

“Yeah, I never thought I’d miss those lousy B-One battle droids!” I responded, wanting to laugh but finding it difficult with all the shots I was taking. The droids had caught us unawares and had us completely surrounded, boxing us in between several storage crates and coming at us from all directions.

“We’re cut off!” Rex shouted between shots. Suddenly more commandos came out from inside the base, tossing handfuls of detonators in our direction. While I found it slightly flattering that they felt it necessary to devote so many explosives to destroying us, it also left us a very small chance of surviving the explosion. “Off the platform!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” The men jumped before me and I quickly followed, unsure of what I was diving into, but I had no time to think if I wanted to make it out of the small area before being blown to bits. Before I could fall too far, I felt the wind knocked out of me as someone grabbed me around the waist, stopping my descent.

“I gotcha, commander.” Rex spoke into my ear, causing a warmth to rise to the back of my neck.

“I appreciate the sentiment captain, but you forget, I’m a Jedi.” I turned to look at him with a crooked grin. “I have these cool magical powers that allow me to catch myself before I go splat.”

“Of course, commander.” I didn’t miss the amusement in his voice as he let go of me, and I landed gracefully on the ground, watching as the two soldiers lowered themselves using their cables.

“This certainly complicates things, commander.” Rex addressed Cody as we took in our surroundings.

“No worse than that time on Tibrin.” Cody responded lightly.

“We had the Generals with us on Tibrin. They helped.” My brow raised at how quickly he dismissed my presence. That paired with how he caught me when he certainly wouldn’t have caught Skywalker made me think they didn’t realize what I was capable of.

Well since you don’t think I can help, have fun on your own, I thought to myself, slightly annoyed. Master Kenobi and Anakin had sent me to observe and learn, after all. So that’s what I would do.

The approach of three unknown clones drew our attention and pulled me from my thoughts. I could feel their force signatures, and they were indeed clones, but I didn’t cut in to say that as Rex demanded them take off their helmets. They took them off, albeit confusedly, and introduced themselves as Fives, Hevy, and Echo. Rex and Cody introduced themselves, and me, and I gave a little wave from my spot in the back, but remained silent.

It was interesting to see the way they dealt with these younger clones. It was a new side of Rex I hadn’t yet seen. I stayed with my arms folded across my chest, leaning against a wall of the cave even as a giant eel like creature attacked, watching with only mild interest as the captain took it out with one shot. I was more interested in the young ‘shinies’, as Rex called them.

They were young and inexperienced but they had a firm determination that was refreshing to see. I walked in the back alongside Echo as we found better ground. “So, you’re a Jedi, sir?”

“Almost,” I responded with a warm smile. “Have you met a Jedi before?”

He nodded. “General Shaak Ti helped train us on Kamino. Without her belief in us, me and my batchers would never have succeeded.” He clearly had a lot of respect for her, and it made me smile to see.

“Of course. I have only met Master Ti a few times but she seems very wise.” Our conversation came to an end as we quickly climbed up closer to the outpost.

“Look sharp, rookies. As long as those tweezers occupy this post, our home planet of Kamino is at risk.”

“But there’s so many of them.” Echo’s nervous comment made me smile. They really were shinies.

“Doesn’t matter, kid. We have to retake this base, so we will retake this base!”

“And how do you propose we get through those blast doors, Rex, old boy?” Cody turned to look at Rex.

“I have a few ideas.”

He didn’t share his idea until we took out all the droids on the platform, me taking care of the stragglers before they could call for backup or notify anyone to our presence. But his brilliant idea was… well I could see how him and Skywalker got along, or perhaps they had spent too much time together because his idea was a very poor plan I could see Skywalker coming up with.

“This is never gonna work.” Cody sighed from beside me, making me chuckle and nod in agreement.

“I mean I could’ve just sliced it open with my lightsaber but I figured I’d let him have his fun.” I commented as we watched the captain faking taking off his helmet and holding up a decapitated droid head up in its place.

To our collective surprise, the blast doors opened, his plan succeeding. These droids might’ve had tougher armour than the standard B-One but they certainly weren’t much smarter. “Clones!” One called out in surprise, far too late, unfortunately for them.

“Roger, roger.” The captain responded coolly, shooting at it before we all jumped out and dismantled the rest of the droids. “Right, let’s move.”

“Permission to take point, sir?” Hevy asked, no doubt excited to be seeing some action.

“I’malways first, kid.” Rex responded, making me grin.

We were able to overtake the base quickly, Fives and Echo making me laugh as they argued over who got the kill on a droid. “Sorry Echo, that one really was Fives.” I gave him an apologetic smile.

“Get to the window. It looks like we have more visitors.” Commander Cody pointed out at the sky.

“It looks like a Separatist fleet.” I frowned at the sight above us. This was not good.

“That’s why they commandeered this outpost. They’re mounting a full-scale invasion,” Rex stated.

“Can we get a message out?” I asked.

“No good, they’re jamming all other communication and they’ve hardwired the all-clear signal. It’ll take too long to fix. And we’ve got company.” Rex pointed to the shuttle full of droid reinforcements that was making its way to us.

“Well buddy, you always said you wanted to be on the front lines.” Fives nudged Hevy lightly.

“We can’t protect the outpost long against that army of clankers.” Hevy said, turning to look at Rex.

“Then we’ll destroy the outpost instead.” My brows raised at this idea. It certainly wasn’t orthodox but it would cut off the all clear signal, which would capture our fleet’s attention.

Rex quickly got everyone on board with the idea and Echo came up with a solution on how we would manage to destroy the base itself, a plan quickly coming together. He really is a great leader, I thought to myself as I watched Rex divide the men into teams.

“Are you alright to go with Hevy and the boys to hold off the clankers, give us more time?” The captain asked me, fully aware that while he was in charge, I was above him in rank.

I nodded. “Of course, captain. Don’t worry about me.” I gave him a little smile as I followed after Hevy to the building’s entrance.

“Reinforcements reporting. Open up.”

Hevy opened the blast doors, blaster canon at the ready. “Didn’t say please.” He quipped, opening fire on the droids.

I laughed as I dove in front of him, deflecting bullets to cover him and taking out as many droids as I could reach. Many more took their place and I cursed at General Grievous in my mind, there was no doubt that he was behind this. “Just some routine inspections, they said, just to pick up some standard procedure. Yeah right.” I muttered, swatting away battle droids with my lightsaber as I grumbled to myself.

“Time to go commander!” Hevy called to me. I nodded at him and quickly jogged inside, still deflecting laser bolts back at the enemy. Quickly the blast doors sealed behind me and we made our way back to the command centre.

“Rex, time’s wasting.” Cody called out as we entered.

“Almost ready. The handset isn’t linked up with the detonator. Hevy.”

“Yes, sir?”

“This detonator isn’t working.” Rex said, handing it over to him.

“I’ll take care of it. It’ll be fixed in no time. You guys get out of here.”

“Just make it fast. Those droids are getting close.” Rex opened the ventilation shaft, gesturing for me to enter it first.

“I’ll wait, I’ll go last,” I opposed.

“Please commander, we’ll be right behind you. Besides, if you get hurt on my watch, the General won’t let me hear the end of it.” He made me laugh lightly.

“Fine then. Hurry up, all of you.” I quickly made my way through the tunnels, exiting and trying to find a good vantage point to watch the sky from.

The rest of the team was right behind me, and Rex looked up at the base. “Hevy, hit the – where’s Hevy?” I quickly turned at his words, noting that Hevy was indeed missing.

“He must still be trying to fix the detonator!” I quickly turned back and tried to make my way up the slope we had just come from, the rest of the team trying to get a hold of Hevy. He just needed to wait, I would be right there. Before I could clamber back into the ventilation shaft someone yanked me back by the arm, holding me back.

I watched in horror as the base exploded before me, debris flying everywhere, flames erupting from the pipes in front of me, nearly reaching my face.

I stared into the flames for several moments, face blank, before turning and walking away, the arm that had held me back finally letting go. How many lives now? How many lives had been given to save my own?

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose, the smell of smoke and scorched metal filling my nostrils. Trust in the will of the force, I repeated the line to myself. Quieting my mind, I turned back to the group, putting a reassuring hand on Echo’s shoulder as he looked up at the flaming base. “Hevy always did hate that place.”

Our own fleet appeared in the sky momentarily, clearly getting the message that something was wrong, and gunships quickly appeared to pick us up. Suffice it to say I was more than eager to get off that rock.

“So, what have you learned from your trip, Nim?” Master Skywalker asked as I joined him in the hangar bay.

“That you and your captain deserve each other.” I joked with a grin, earning a laugh from Anakin and a look from the helmeted captain himself.

“I’ll take that as a complement.” Anakin responded.

“You should.”

***

After a small ceremony indicting Fives and Echo into the Five Hundred and First and awarding them on their bravery and success, there was a small informal celebration in the mess hall. We had staved off an invasion on Kamino, and we had two new recruits, so there was some celebration to be had. However, I knew Fives and Echo had the recent events still in their minds, and someone else who was nowhere to be found.

Making my way back to the hangar bay I found the captain sitting in a corner on a workbench, helmet on the floor in front of him. I came to a stop before him, unsure if my company was welcome or unwanted. Several moments passed before he spoke.

"I should've stayed behind and made sure they all got out. I should've known he'd try something stupidly heroic." His head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor hollowly.

I sighed, sitting down on the bench beside him, staring ahead as I fell into my own thoughts. "It's not easy, when I think about all the people who have given their lives to save me. So many soldiers on the battlefield, like Hevy, like my Master," My voice broke at the mention of my old Master. Talking about him still brought up so much pain, and so many memories I tried to forget. "Some days I feel like I wasn't worth it."

"And other days?" He looked to me questioningly.

"I realize that it was never about me." I said, giving him a small smile. He nodded at me, considering my words. "When those people give their lives, it is because they are selfless. It is because they want to save lives so desperately they are willing to sacrifice anything. In that moment they are not thinking about me, and whether or not I am worth it. They are only thinking about saving anyone they can." I let myself speak my thoughts aloud, needing this conversation as much as he did.

"We should do our best to live well. To honour their sacrifice."

I looked at him thoughtfully, drawn to his dark golden orbs that held such meaning. What had those eyes seen? What emotion did they harbour? What knowledge did they hold?

I resisted the urge to sigh wistfully as I looked into his eyes, wishing I could know what they hid. "And so we shall." I gave a small smile and stood up, gesturing towards where the others were. "Now let's go celebrate the newest additions to the five hundred and first."

[sgrayonderii]

nom de guerre

SSM21 Day 17: a gentle man

In which some titles are more accurate than others. Samurai-esque AU

It is common knowledge that for a noble title and a swath of land, her mother was sold to a warlord.  

Haruno Sakura had the great misfortune of being born as the daughter of a destitute samurai family. Their master had long been vanquished and their lands long sold to make ends meet. And yet still longed for days yonder. 

But her mother also had the great fortune of being born a beauty, so when the opportunity arose; a passing hegemon looking for a bride, Sakura’s parents took a chance. 

They say that the young warlord was so mesmerized by her mother that he immediately accepted the terms of the expensive bride price and took her as his wife. 

On their wedding day, mother was dressed in her finest robes while her father arrived late in a full suit of blood soaked armor. 

The ceremony itself was a soleum affair. Her parents pledged themselves before the gods and swear to their union.

And so Haruno Sakura becomes Lady Uchiha no Sakura, the wife of Lord Uchiha no Madara.

----

Sarada has faint memories of her father; more often than not her father is sent to the battlefield and only returns a few days to weeks at a time between campaigns. 

The Uchiha clan is one of the important noble families of the Konoha and known for its long history of bloodthirsty warriors. Her father is no exception. 

Whenever he returns home, Sarada hides behind her mother’s skirt. Her father is an imposing demon-like man, larger than life, and taller than a mountain. Someone more suited for stories and legends than real life. 

They call him a man more fearsome than Susanoo-no-Mikoto itself. So violent, so blood crazed, it is a wonder that Sakura lived as long as she did when a male heir had yet to be born. 

Thankfully, it seems that as a daughter, her father pays very little attention to her. Whenever he returns from the borderlands between here and Oto, he barely spares her a glance. 

However, whenever his eyes meet her mother’s through his helmet, he beckons her over. 

“Sakura,” he commands, voice deep and low, “bring some tea to my quarters.”

Sarada always remembers her mother looking angry but determined then. Sakura dutifully follows her husband into the inner chambers. She doesn’t emerge until late morning.

Sarada is usually having lessons during this time, but one day she sneaks out of her etiquette classes to find her mother. 

She searches almost the entire unusually empty manor before finding Sakura in the kitchen brewing tea. Her mother’s clothes are covered in blood and her hands are covering her tears. 

Sarada has never seen her mother sob so terribly before.

From then on, she decides that her father must be an especially cruel man. 

---- 

Whenever her father returns from war, her Papa also comes home. 

Today she finds him on the engawa overlooking the gardens. He is sipping some tea while looking over some scrolls. He appears injured, bandages wrapped around his torso, but otherwise in good health. 

If her father is the devil incarnate, then Sarada’s papa is a handsome devil. 

No wonder her Mama is so taken with him. Sometimes when she is supposed to be asleep, she can hear her Mama fuss over Papa. They hold hands when no one is looking and share secrets no other soul knows. 

Despite the cold manor they reside in, Mama is an affectionate woman at her core and her Papa is receptive to all she has to give. 

And Papa must be someone important too; after all he is allowed to leave and enter from the inner quarters that a normal Uchiha foot soldier could not. 

Sarada pads over to him, he looks up and beckons her closer. 

“Have you been a good girl, little peanut?” 

Sarada scoffs. “ I’m not a nut.” But she holds out her hands anyways. 

Her Papa chuckles and pulls out some dried persimmons from his sleeves. “Don’t tell Sakura.” 

Sarada smiles at their little secret before taking a bite. “What are you reading?” Her Papa allows her to climb onto his lap and drapes the scroll over her. Sarada squints, only understanding a fraction of the words on the paper. She points and reads aloud the characters she recognizes.

“Good girl.” He slips her another dried persimmon.

That is when her mother finds them. 

“Sasuke-kun!” her mama enters the scene in a huff, “I told you to stop that, you’ll ruin her dinner.”

Sarada quickly shoves both persimmons into her mouth. Her papa has the decency to look sheepish. 

“You can’t keep spoiling her like that! She is going to get an upset stomach!” Sakura continues.

“Do you want me to spoil you too?” 

Her mama sputters, all red and flustered. Her hands move to cover her flaming cheeks.

Sarada meanwhile uses the distraction to hold out her hands for another treat. Her gentle papa instead leans down and kisses her forehead.

---

For the past year, her father and his retainers had been defending the borders between Oto and Konoha. After the dissenters were finally defeated, a grand celebration is held in her father’s honor. 

She remembers that her father was hailed as the second coming of Madara, the legendary clan head from the distant past. The comparison is uncanny, both bloodthirsty and merciless but dauntless in the face of adversary. Soon it becomes her father’s mantle; Lord Uchiha no Madara, the slayer of the Orochi. 

Sarada hadn't been invited to the banquet due to her age but that night she is much too excited to sleep. She has never seen so many people gathered in one place in her life. And even though her father’s presence makes her nervous, she loves the tales about his exploits. 

The banquet hall is rowdy and the envoy’s drunken singing could be heard from down the halls. The fuzzy silhouettes of her father’s soldiers line the banquet hall, she has a hard time making out who is who. Everything is quite blurry even with the multiple lanterns.

The only one Sarada could identify for sure is her mother. Sakura’s features are distinct, like a lone flower against the night sky. Her mother sits obediently at the head of the table beside the man that is her father. 

He has forsaken armor this time, but there is still a sword at his side. From the distance, her father doesn’t look particularly like he was enjoying the festivities. 

He appears bored. Perhaps his blood is not used to peace, after all a beast belonged in the wild and a warrior to the battlefield. 

Sakura every once and a while would refill her father’s sake cup or serve him more of the feast in front of him. Occasionally, when her mother would lean over and her father would whisper something into her ear. 

Her mama would stiffen and her face would become strained. At first Sarada can’t make out the expression, until a small smile blooms on her mama’s visage. 

Sarada goes to bed soon after, not quite understanding their interactions. 

---

Her earliest memory of Papa is halfway past her fourth year. 

Father had been back for a few days now, not that she had really seen him. And to be perfectly honest, her father is a scary man and she would rather not run into him. 

But Sarada is also curious so she puts on a brave face and finds herself outside her mother’s quarters.

Peering through the crack in the paper screen door, Sarada spots her mother’s figure and a man she doesn’t recognize. 

Her mama is leaning on the man’s shoulder while he serves her sake with his free hand. Back then, Sarada found it a strange role reversal that a man dressed in such luxurious robes was pouring her mama a drink. 

Sarada has seen some men in her father’s army throw a tantrum when a pretty lady wouldn’t attend to them. Even Sakura during official functions knows to serve her father first before anyone else can even eat.

But this man sat with her mama so nonchalantly and closely, breaking tradition as if it was nothing!

Her shock was audible to where her mother and the man turned to see her crouched by the entryway. 

Sarada felt as if she interrupted a private moment, but man’s expression morphed into something soft and Sakura giddily rushes over to pick her up. 

“Sarada! Come, come! Papa is here, see?” Sakura hands her over the stranger’s awaiting arms. She doesn’t want to leave her mama’s embrace but the man’s is just as warm. 

“Hello little peanut, have you been good while I was away?” 

How is she supposed to answer him? She opts for a nod and reaches for the familiarity of her mother.

“Sasuke-kun…” 

“It’s alright, she probably isn’t used to my face.” He leans over regardless and kisses her mother’s forehead. Then he looks Sarada straight in the eye. “I am you papa.” 

Sarada thinks she likes this ‘Sasuke-kun,’ this Papa. Someone so kind to her mother can’t be a bad man. 

----

As she gets older, Sarada becomes privy to the rumors about the current acting head of the Yamanaka clan. How her son looks nothing like her deceased husband but has the same eyes as the court painter. 

And Sarada has her own theories about her mama and the man that is her papa.

She just hopes that her father never finds out. 

---

Even though her mother is essentially the lady of the house, Sarada still hears whispers of her lineage. Even more so now that Sarada begins wearing glasses. 

Before her father leaves for his next campaign, he gives Sakura his inkan. 

As the wife of the lord, Sakura officially acts as his surrogate in any official business even if some of the family retainers aren’t happy about it. 

Fortunately, many would rather swallow their pride that incur her father’s wrath. 

All except one. 

Uchiha no Shin, a rather minor branch clan member, always disapproved of her father and even more so now that he left his wife in charge of the estate in his absence. 

It all comes to a head when Sakura denies him funding for a rather ill thought out building project. 

“You dirty wench! ” 

Sarada can hear the screams from her room. She rushes to the scene. Sakura is still standing her ground when she arrives. 

“I don’t see any benefit in this strategy and I doubt my dear lord husband would either.” 

“What do you know?! You are nothing but a plaything you stupid bitch, I’ll teach you some manners!” Shin chooses that moment to raise his hand at her mother. 

Sarada feels the anger seep into her bones but her mother chooses that moment to retaliate and punch Shin square in the face herself. 

Shin falls back unceremoniously. Sarada is slack jawed. 

“How dare you!” he seethes. Shin tries to get up only for another person to rush to her mother’s aid. 

Shin’s screams are agonizing and it takes Sarada a moment to realize that not only had her father returned, but he had drawn his sword and stabbed it clean through Shin’s arm, effectively pinning it to the tatami. 

“Sasuke-kun!” 

Sarada blinks once. Twice. 

“Are you alright Sakura?” Her father, her papa asks, completely ignoring their screaming relative. 

Sakura nods and he turns to her as well “Are you okay Sarada?” his voice deep and low but the same kind cadence up close as her beloved papa.

Suddenly her father’s mysterious and distant features that were always hazy to her meld with the papa in front of her now.  

Sarada adjusts her glasses. She feels really stupid in that moment. 

---

This time, Sarada is invited to the banquet. 

It’s an annual harvest festival and her father is the guest of honor. The local leaders once again announce him as ‘Lord Uchiha no Madara’ much to his chagrin. 

“I really hate when they call me that.” Sasuke tells them later when the food is being served and drinks are flowing freely. Sakura is on one side while Sarada is on the other. Habitually he is discreetly putting any sweets that make it his way and the tenderest pieces of meat onto their plates. 

“Anata,” with time Sarada notices that her mother only ever uses this term in public when her father needed more placating than usual, “they are just just in awe of how great you are!”

“I wish they had chosen something different, Madara was such a pain in the ass.” 

“Sasuke-kun!” Her mother tries to be scandalized but can’t help but devolve into a fit of giggles. 

As her father continues to look on adoringly at his wife, Sarada can’t help but agree with him. 

A name like that is unfitting of her gentle papa. 

A/N: Happy Sasusaku month 2021! My brain is mush right now so excuse the multitude of grammatical errors. Thank you for reading!

And just to note in historical Japan, men tended to change their names depending on significant life events. For example, Minamoto no Yoshitsune's childhood name was Ushiwakamaru.

@ssskmonth

[teawaffles]

It Happened One Night: Chapter 1

T/N: Takes place after the Scandal in the British Empire arc (Chapters 17-23 of the manga).

Baker Street was full of people as usual. But in contrast to the hubbub, the entire street was enveloped in a vaguely unnatural, lonely atmosphere.

It looked like it was going to rain. That was what John H Watson thought as he walked down the street, gazing up at the heavily clouded sky.

“We should get back quickly, Sherlock.”

Saying that, he looked at the man beside him — Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock squinted and sniffed the air, as if trying to detect the smell of rain, and agreed with him.

“Right. And I also have some things here I don’t want to get drenched.”

Then Sherlock looked down at the items he was carrying. They each bore a large paper bag, stuffed to the brim with food and other sundry goods.

John furrowed his brows.

“Sherlock, haven’t you bought too many personal items? We’re even more broke than usual, you know,” he reminded.

But Sherlock wasn’t perturbed.

“They might be useless to you, John, but to me these are necessities of life. Please overlook this just once.”

“It’s no use, huh……”

It was better to avoid cigarettes at times like this, but John knew it was pointless to say that — hence instead of going on at length, he just gave a small sigh. Somehow, it felt like the bag in his arms had grown heavier.

As the two men walked on like this, they eventually drew near the flat where they lived. 221B Baker Street. This was the very place from which the great detective Sherlock Holmes, and his assistant, John H Watson, unravelled Britain’s mysteries.

However, they walked past their lodgings, not once slowing down. As they passed by, John glanced toward their flat.

There, remained the scars of appalling destruction. The building itself had retained its original structure, but the flat in which they’d lived had its windows all blown out; from what he could see through them, the walls and ceilings had been scorched to a miserable crisp.

They’d been unexpectedly drawn into the “Scandal of the British Empire” case, in which Sherlock had devised a bold strategy — blowing up their own apartment — in order to save Irene Adler.

They had achieved their goal, but at the cost of losing their home for the time being. As such, Sherlock and John, together with their landlady Miss Hudson, were staying in cheap accommodation a little ways from here until the apartment repairs were complete.

As they headed to their temporary lodgings, John’s shoulders drooped.

“Although all of us had agreed on it, in the end, it’s still tough to see the place you’ve gotten used to living in become like that.”

“Sorry about that. I had no other option back then.”

Sherlock kept his eyes forward as he apologised with sincerity. To that, John smiled gently.

“I don’t really mind — In any case, I’ve been put through many reckless situations like this before……. Oh—”

Right then, a drop of water splashed on his palm. Just as he registered that icy sensation, more raindrops came pouring down.

Sherlock looked at him.

“It arrived earlier than I thought.”

“Yeah, let’s run for it.”

Then, carrying their bags with both arms, the two men half-ran to their hotel.

When they arrived, they shook their heads slightly to rid the water from their hair, then walked past the front desk to their room.

After putting down their bags and opening the door, they found Miss Hudson standing in the doorway.

John tilted his head in confusion.

“Miss Hudson, what brings you here?”

As it would be improper for them to share a room with a lady, the two men chose to rent out a separate room despite the steep cost. Hence, John thought she would be in her own room now — why was she in theirs?

She smiled back awkwardly.

“Mr Mycroft’s here.”

“What?”

Instantly, Sherlock’s face morphed into one of displeasure. Without asking the details, he took up his shopping and walked into the room. Seated on a chair near the wall was his older brother Mycroft, looking out the window.

“……Damn you, Mycroft. Coming all the way to this hotel — what you do want?”

Distinctly uncomfortable dealing with his own elder brother, Sherlock spoke up first, his tone sour. But Mycroft simply turned to look at him, and responded without haste.

“That attitude again as always, Sherly. How about subverting my expectations sometimes and acting like a gentleman for once? Or rather, is it that you’re so frustrated by a case you forgot your manners?”

“Ugh……”

Mycroft looked around the cramped interior as he spoke, and the corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitched as he let out a groan. He didn’t regret blowing up their apartment itself, but hearing Mycroft’s calm, pointed comments forced him to remember his own helplessness back then.

“……Did you come all the way here just to make a fool of me?” he retorted, trying to defend himself. But Mycroft simply shrugged his shoulders in resignation, and got straight to the point.

“If you’re having trouble with accommodation, there’s a country house in the Cotswolds I can introduce you to.”

“……What’s this, all of a sudden?”

Country houses were often built by nobles and wealthy landowners as status symbols on their own land: it was ridiculous to suggest that someone would simply lend theirs out. Sherlock raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Isn’t it natural for an older brother to want to help his younger sibling in his time of need? Furthermore, although I’m sure they’d agreed to your plan, it pains me to think how Dr Watson and Miss Hudson have been caught up in it.”

“We don’t need your concern. We’ll do what we want, so just get the hell out of here.” Sherlock made a shooing motion with his hand, in a bid to chase Mycroft out, but was soon admonished by John, who’d entered the room afterward. John then calmly turned to Mycroft, seeming eager to listen.

“Do you mean that, you would be willing to lend us an apartment? Thank you very much for your offer — could you tell us more?”

Mycroft was smiling as he nodded.

“Actually, an acquaintance of mine — a noble — intends to stay in London for a week. They’re looking for someone to look after their mansion in the meantime, hence I thought it would align perfectly with your situation, Doctor.”

John nodded in understanding.

“I see. However, if that’s the case, why not ask their employees to stay behind?”

“From what I’d heard, they felt it would be a good opportunity to give their hardworking employees a vacation as well. Although if you aren’t able to accept, Doctor, they did say they would ask some of them to remain in the house……”

“In other words, if we were to take up the offer, then their employees would be able to take a break. Moreover, the three of us would be in charge of the mansion’s upkeep during our stay.”

“Not exactly,” Mycroft clarified, “They said you won’t have to concern yourselves with the maintenance and such. As long as it stays reasonably tidy, you are free to enjoy yourselves while keeping an eye on the house.”

It was a very generous offer, so generous it invited suspicion of an ulterior motive; however, since it came from Mycroft, perhaps it could be trusted. John wanted very much to accept — he couldn’t say he was entirely pleased with their current arrangement — but he knew his partner didn’t view it that simply.

As expected, Sherlock tutted in disapproval.

“This place suits us just fine: I don’t want to live in some boring mansion in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, I wouldn’t be able to take on clients when I’m away.”

Sherlock himself did harbour some guilt at making the two of them endure their present lifestyle, but following his brother’s opinion was simply anathema to him. As such, he couldn’t help but bite back in reply.

John understood that, but admonished him regardless.

“Sherlock, you shouldn’t talk to your own brother like that. Mr Mycroft was just looking out for us when he made that suggestion.”

“Pay no mind, Doctor. He’s been like this for a long time.”

Mycroft gave them a wide smile. Then, he directed a question to Miss Hudson, who had been keeping an eye on them from behind.

“We’ve heard what my little brother thinks, but how about you, Miss Hudson?”

“Eh? A-Ah~……”

Having suddenly been addressed, she responded in a faltering tone.

“Well, um…… To me, I think, it would certainly be helpful.”

In an effort to consider Sherlock’s feelings on the matter, she ended up replying in a roundabout way — but it was clear that she was in favour as well.

Mycroft turned to John.

“How about you, Doctor?”

For a moment, John was at a loss for words, but when he heard the floorboards creaking underneath his feet, he made up his mind. He looked at Sherlock as he nodded slowly.

“I think, that the country house might be more pleasant, compared to our current circumstances. Moreover, we could always receive clients via post.”

“…………”

Both of them had answered in the affirmative. Now, only Sherlock remained.

Despite the apparent obstacles being cleared, he still had his reservations. But eventually, Sherlock looked at the ceiling in resignation.

“Ah, bollocks. It would just be selfish of me to refuse at this point, now wouldn’t it? Alright. Please let us stay at that country house until the apartment is fixed.”

At that reply, Mycroft smiled in satisfaction, and Sherlock turned away to hide his frustration from those eyes.

The three of them drew up some agreements on their new living arrangements, and with that, until the flat at Baker Street was fixed, they would proceed to stay at a noble’s mansion out in the country.

Footnotes:

[1] The Cotswolds is a large hilly area to the northwest of London, further than Oxford and dotted with villages. (Wikipedia)

T/N: After the angst from the last story, I just remembered how much I love the Baker Street gang 😉

[theoswriting]

fault line [part. i]

summary: To y/n, freedom feels like wind in her hair, sounds like old school rock'n'roll and tastes like Elle's lips. From the fire in front of them comes warmth. With every passing second, bloodied clothes burn beyond the point of recognition.

pairing: elle greenaway x fem!reader

a/n: uhm okay, this totally got out of hand. from that request, my brain went crazy and I ended up having to cut it into two, so this is part 1. Hopefully I'll post part 2 in a couple of days. I feel weird about this story, but I hope you'll enjoy it at least a tiny bit, haha.

warnings: mentions of rape and sexual abuse (nothing graphic), murder but it's pretty lowkey, sociopathy?, bad profiling, 

ao3

Jennifer Jareau's steps are hurried when she walks from her office to Hotchner's. 

She can feel the eyes of Prentiss, Morgan and Reid following her as she crosses the bullpen. She ignores them, the files she's holding in her hands are far more important. She doesn't wait for an answer after she knocks, not caring that she's interrupting Hotchner in the middle of a phone call. 

Hotch doesn't startle at the irruption, and when he sees the urgency in the liaison's eyes, he doesn't hesitate before saying, "I'm afraid I'll have to call later," to whoever was on the other side of the line. 

"We have a bad one."

***

To y/n, freedom feels like wind in her hair, sounds like old school rock'n'roll and tastes like Elle's lips.

Elle's hand rests on y/n's thigh as she drives with the other, sunglasses covering her eyes as she stares at the road straight ahead. There's a strength in the way she holds the steering wheel, getting them to their next destination with nothing but confidence. As she looks her over, y/n feels a familiar spark wake inside her. It makes her lean towards the driver's side to drop a long kiss on the corner of Elle's mouth. 

Elle doesn't hesitate to turn her head and make it a real kiss, the kind that always leaves y/n breathless and wanting more. When Elle leans back to focus on the road again, the car has swerved to the other side of the road and Elle brings it back to the right lane. 

Not that it matters. It's been hours since they had passed another car, not  a lot of traffic in the middle of the Nevada desert. And if they were to drive off the road, what a way to go, y/n thinks. She'd happily die twice if it meant dying with Elle kissing her with all the love and passion in the world. That'd probably be the only way y/n would ever make it to heaven. 

For now, she leans her head on Elle's shoulder and sighs contentedly at the kiss her girlfriend drops on her temple. 

"I think we can stop soon," y/n says after seconds, "We're far out enough, and I really need to stretch my legs."

It's barely fifteen minutes later when y/n finally gets to use her legs after being in the car for so long. As she stretches, Elle stands beside her, drinking from a water bottle. She passes it to her and y/n thanks her. The heat of the desert is heavy around them, but y/n barely feels it. 

The warmth comes from the fire in front of them, small and controlled. 

With every passing second, bloodied clothes burn beyond the point of recognition. 

***

"LAPD called me this morning for a consultation on two cases they suspected might be connected."

Everyone looks at the files as JJ begins presenting the case. 

"First victim, Matthew McGregor, 36, was killed with a single gunshot wound to the head a year ago after he came home from a party," She explains, "Second victim, Eric Laurens, 28, two days ago, same M.O., single GSW to the head coming home from a party."

JJ sees Derek nod slowly as he reads over the information again, "Seems pretty clear to me that they're connected."

Emily hums in agreement, "And both had gotten arrested on rape charges, but weren't convicted, prior to their deaths."

"A vigilante?" Rossi theorises out loud. 

"There's more," JJ sighs as she clicks on the remote. Five more men appear on screen, a picture from their driver's license and one from a crime scene, "LAPD aren't the only ones who called about similar cases."

Spencer frowns at the screen, "Wyoming, Illinois, New York, these are from all over the country," he observes. 

"Yeah" JJ nods, "And the oldest murder goes back to 2007, the most recent being Eric Laurens two days ago."

"That's seven victims over the last 3 years," Derek observes and that's when Hotch gets up to stand next to JJ.

"Seven that we know of," He says, "We might have a transient serial killer in our hands. We'll be flying out to LA to see what we can learn from the most recent crime scene. I've already asked Garcia to look for unsolved murders with a similar M.O. all over the country, we'll debrief more on the jet. Wheels up in 20."

Without another word, all the agents leave the room to gather their belongings and get to the plane that'll take them to their case. 

***

After being together for almost four years, y/n and Elle had settled into a routine. It was inevitable, y/n guessed, that after so much time together. Some things were bound to become repetitive. 

Elle always takes the left side of the bed, while y/n prefers the right. Elle always cooks if they want their food to be edible, and y/n always cleans up. When it comes to coffee, though, y/n always makes it, Elle's always coming out too strong for both their tastes. When it comes to work, Elle excells at planning while y/n handles the social part.

Their routine is rooted in balance though, and y/n loves the way they compliment each other.

y/n lures the men, Elle shoots them. 

She worries sometimes. She worries that their lives are getting boring, that they have settled into this routine too comfortably and forgotten how to surprise each other. 

"Mmmh," y/n feels Elle stretch next to her, "G'morning."

Her worries never last very long. How could they, when all y/n has to do is look at Elle to realize that there is no way she's ever falling out of love with the woman. 

"Good morning," She replies, getting closer to her girlfriend to drop a kiss on her lips. Elle hums contentedly into the kiss and y/n can't help the grin that takes over her features. When Elle leans back, she keeps her eyes closed and settles back into her pillow and y/n bites her lip as she watches her. 

"We need to go soon," Elle mutters.

y/n quickly agrees, even though she's pretty sure no one is on their tails. They can never be too careful. Never stay in a place too long if you don't want to get trapped. They'd stopped in a random motel for the night, paid in cash, left most of their stuff in the car, ready to take off at any time. 

It was the way things always were the days that'd follow one of their… projects.

Some would consider this lifestyle tiresome. y/n, however, thinks she's the luckiest person in the world. In the last four years, she's travelled through the country and seen the most beautiful sights with the woman she loves by her side. Sure, they have a job to do, but it's never really felt like a job to y/n. She's always heard that people weren't supposed to enjoy their jobs, that's always what grownups had complained about when she was a kid. 

And y/n? Well, she enjoys her job very much. 

***

Reid stares at the board in front of him. He's just put up all the information they have so far and it's… a lot. 

Or rather, there's very little useful information, but many, many, victims. Garcia has managed to find an overwhelming number of unsolved cases with a similar modus operandi: men, killed by a single gunshot to the head on their way home from a party, all previously accused of rape or sexual misconduct. 

They are up to 32 possible victims on top of the 7 they started with, from all over the country. That number only keeps going up the longer Garcia keeps looking. 

By now, they are pretty sure all these cases are connected, even though no evidence connects them directly to each other. Even ballistics couldn't link the different shootings. 

They're missing something. Spencer only wishes he knew what that was. 

On the jet, they'd all agreed on a few things concerning the preliminary profile. Their unsub was most likely highly intelligent and had military or law enforcement training. It was most probably a man in his mid-thirties, carrying out his own justice after the system failed him or someone close to him. He was organized, evident by the lack of clues left behind. Whoever the unsub was, he might even have stalked his victims prior to the crimes. 

It sounds right on paper, but something is missing. Spencer knows it. 

Something is missing.

***

y/n's hand is wrapped around a cup of coffee as she sits on the patio of a little shop. Her sunglasses are small, barely protecting her from the rays coming from the sun above. It's almost noon.

The world is an ugly place. 

That statement had made its way into y/n's head years ago, laying roots, unmoving. With every stroke of her father's anger, with every touch of a man's hands, the roots dug deeper and deeper until they found their way to y/n's heart. The world held no justice for people like y/n. They didn't care about the bruises, the touching, the screaming for help, they never listened. 

She had learned a long time ago that if she wants something, she needs to do it herself. 

"How can you be married to someone like that?" Elle suddenly speaks up from next to her. 

When y/n looks at her, Elle's eyes are fixed onto the man they'd followed. He's at the restaurant on the other side of the street, right in front of the coffee shop. He's sitting with his wife, holding her hand and y/n tilts her head.

"Maybe she doesn't know."

Elle's eyes don't leave the couple, her face still contorted in disgust, "Then, we're doing her a favor."

It brings a smile to y/n's face. The way Elle's voice sounds resolute, confident. It's comforting. It reminds her that she's right to trust Elle, that Elle hates the world just as much as she does and that she'd gladly watch it burn with her. It makes her want to lean in and kiss her, but that would attract too much attention. Instead, she reaches out for her hand and brings it up to her lips. Elle shoots her a small smile, and y/n's heart warms.

It's impressive how a smile from Elle offers y/n a reassurance she hadn't even known she craved. It had always been her against the entire world, the only love she knew was the love she was willing to give to herself. That hadn't always been easy.

Then, she'd met Elle and she had shared a story so different from y/n's but the consequences of it felt familiar. It made sense that y/n had been drawn to her, the strength Elle exuded softened by the understanding y/n saw in her eyes each time she talked. 

The world was an ugly place, but Elle Greenaway makes it worth holding on for a little longer. 

***

"The body was found right where you're standing," Derek says as he looks back at Prentiss from a few feet ahead, "Which means our unsub must've been standing right here," He adds, pointing to the ground under his feet. 

He looks around him as Prentiss voices his exact thought, "There's no way he didn't see the unsub coming. There aren't any good hiding spots out here."

They're standing next to a fence, on the outside of a park, "The sidewalk is big, no trees, or parking allowed, so no cars to hide behind," Derek observes, "Which means our unsub is unsuspecting, someone the victims wouldn't consider a threat."

Emily nods and starts looking up, in search of camera surveillance. Two catch her eye, on the other side of the street and she points out to Derek with a raised eyebrow. Local PD hadn't found anything of use but they decide to call Garcia anyway. If anyone could find something, it was her. 

As Morgan talks to their tech analyst, Emily walks past him, then back, retracing the steps their unsub had most likely taken two nights ago. When she stops, she raises her hands, mimicking a gun and aiming at where the victim would've been standing. Whoever it is, they're a good shot which makes her think they were right in saying the unsub had some kind of firearm training. 

She sighs as she drops her hands down and puts them on her hips. As she looks around again, a thought crosses her mind, "Where did Mr. Laurens live?"

Derek who just hung up with Garcia wracks his brain to remember the address he'd read in the file, "He lived… three streets down, that way-" He points out to the direction their victim had supposedly been walking from and it dawns on him, "So why was he walking in the opposite direction to his home."

Emily nods, "And how did the unsub know they'd find him here."

"They followed him."

"Walked past him, turned around and shot him?" Emily asks as she walks back to stand where the body had been found.

"Or, he was lured out here," Derek speaks and Prentiss has to agree with him. 

"It's the perfect killing spot," She says pointing back at the cameras, "Even if Garcia gets anything from them, it'll be grainy at best, impossible to get a clear shot of our unsub."

Derek looks at the empty street, void of any passerbys, "Quiet street in the day, probably even quieter at night. Less risks to run into an unwanted witness."

"So if he was lured out," Emily says, "We need to figure out who he left that party with."

***

y/n stumbles slightly and giggles as a strong arm wraps around her waist and helps her stay upright. 

"Shoot, I'm such a klutz," She adds with a laugh and her companion replies in kind. 

His laughter grates on her nerves. It's too loud, resonating all around them and using up too much oxygen. She only has to walk with him a couple more minutes but even that feels too long. She feels his too big hand squeeze her hip and she feels anger spike inside her chest. She wants to hurt him. 

Deep breath. Clenched fist. One more minute. 

He's started talking again but y/n isn't listening. She's staring straight ahead to the street they're going to walk into where Elle will be waiting for them and the hand will finally fall from her hip. That's when you feel it, that spark you've come to call freedom. It's small but grows as you round the corner with him following you closely.

It starts burning under your skin when you spot Elle's silhouette further down the street.

The man next to you doesn't even take notice of her and isn't that ironic. He spent his life thinking of women as less than and y/n finds it befitting that what'll bring him to his end is the last woman he'll ignore. 

Elle raises her gun and with the sound of the gunshot ringing in her ears, y/n's whole body is set aflame. 

She watches as the hand lays limp next to his lifeless body and a gleeful laugh escapes her. The hole in his head oozes blood and she can't stop laughing. The hand is laying there unmoving and y/n feels the urge to step on it. 

Hurt him, hurt him, hurt him, hurt him like he hurt you. 

She's vaguely aware of Elle calling out her name but y/n doesn't snap out of it until a hand yanks her away from the body by the shoulders. She steps back, but slaps the hands touching her away. Only then does she realize that it's Elle looking at her, confusion in her eyes and something y/n doesn't want to ever see from her own girlfriend. 

Fear.

"We have to go," Elle announces slowly, like she's explaining it to a child, or a wounded animal. y/n doesn't know which comparison she likes best. She looks back at the body and regretfully nods.

They start walking away, hand in hand, but something inside of y/n doesn't feel quite right. The fire that had roared inside of her is long gone and she feels her body shiver at the cold. Elle notices and wraps an arm around her shoulders, dropping a kiss on her hair as they keep walking side by side.

She wants to smile but she can't manage it. 

He hurt her.

He was going to hurt Elle.

He hurt her.

***

"Laurens' friends say he left the party alone," Emily announces to the team as she sits down next to JJ in the conference room. At the same moment, Derek's phone starts ringing, attracting everyone's attention.

"Baby girl, tell me you have good news," Derek answers, putting his phone on speaker so everyone around the table can hear. 

"I wish, but no. The cameras on the street were of no use, it's a blind spot. I tried the cameras from neighbouring streets but got nothing. Whoever it is your looking for, they're like a ghost."

There's a collective disappointed sigh and shoulders sagging, and Garcia isn't done, "to make a bad day even worse, a body was just found in Twin Falls, same M.O."

Everyone visibly tenses at the news, Rossi speaking first, "Two kills in less than three days."

Hotch looks at JJ and before he can even say anything, she's out of her seat, "I'll call the local PD, tell them we're on our way."

Hotch nods his approval, turning his stoic gaze to the rest of his team, "Get your bags ready, we're flying out as soon as the jet is ready."

***

It is getting boring and y/n had been right to be worried. 

That's the first thing that crosses her mind as she wakes up next to Elle, hours later, in a nameless city in the middle of nowhere. 

Elle lays peacefully next to her, deep into slumber, and a smile stretches y/n's lips. She watches her girlfriend's chest rise and fall, her naked body barely covered by the sheets. It's a hot night, y/n can feel the sweat in her lower back making it uncomfortable for her to fall back asleep. As she gets up from the bed, Elle moves, getting closer to where y/n lay seconds ago, chasing the heat despite the already too high temperature. 

y/n lets herself watch her for a moment before walking to sit on the chair next to the window. There's nothing to look at, the motel they'd chosen is outside of the city and the lights are barely visible. It's dark, except for the slight light of the moon landing on the cars outside. 

She feels empty tonight. The thrill she'd felt hours ago hadn't lasted long and the only thing she could remember about it was the look Elle had thrown her way. 

Fear.

Elle had always looked at her with interest. From the moment they met, y/n had been drawn in by her hazel eyes. Something in her made her feel safe in a way she never had before and days after meeting her, she had told Elle about her unpleasant memories, how the world wasn't a nice place.

Elle had listened and, to y/n's surprise, agreed with the statement. Usually, whenever y/n told people about the ugliness of the world, they tried to make her see the parts that weren't so bad, try to make her see that some things, and some people were worth it. Elle hadn't done any of that, she had scoffed and agreed.

"Only person you can trust is yourself. The rest? Always leads to disappointment."

They had ended up in bed together soon after that, spent the night in each other's arms and imagining a world that'd be worth their time. 

Two days later, they had killed their first man together.

Their routine hasn't changed in nearly four years, and it used to be enough for y/n. She's the bait, easily transforming herself into whoever the men want to see in front of them. She pretends to be too drunk, unstable on her feet, asking for help to walk back to her place or her car, and the men never think twice before following her. 

Elle waits for them and then. She shoots. 

And it used to be enough for y/n to watch the proud look on Elle's face anytime she made a perfect shot. Smoking gun in hand and a confident smirk, y/n had never seen anything sexier in her entire life. 

What followed was always a passionate kiss and hurried hands, trying to touch every inch of skin. 

Earlier, y/n hadn't even kissed Elle, the only contact between them being the arm that Elle had thrown around her shoulder. 

y/n can feel that there's something not quite right. She feels it in her body, in the way her arms itch, in the way her chest feels a bit too empty for her too breath comfortably. 

y/n loves Elle, there's no way that has changed. She's sure of it. When she turns her head to watch Elle sleep, her heart flutters at the sight of her girlfriend curled up on the side of the bed that she had vacated. She couldn't see it, but she could picture her girlfriend's face, mouth slightly open if she were to believe the little snores she could hear. 

She is just bored of the routine. 

When she finally climbs back into bed with Elle, her girlfriend automatically drapes a hand over her waist. 

"Where did you go?" Elle asks sleepily, and y/n lays a kiss on her nose. It makes her scrunch up her face and that's the cutest sight she's ever seen. 

"Couldn't sleep."

Elle hums and goes back to sleep. y/n sighs and follows suit, not long after. 

***

"What's this, on the palm?" Morgan asks the M.E., pointing at the left hand of the victim where the skin seems slightly bruised.

The doctor on the other side of the autopsy table nods at Derek and Spencer, "His hand was broken post-mortem, although I'm having a hard time figuring out what broke it."

Reid leaned closer to the hand and frowned, "It looks like something was pushed from the palm to the other side."

Again, the doctor nods, but before she can say anything else, Reid suddenly stands up straight and looks over at Morgan, "I know what did this."

At that moment, Morgan's phone rings and upon seeing Hotch's name, he excuses himself to reply. When he comes back, his face looks somber.

"A man was killed not far from here, local PD just got the call. Hotch wants us to check it out, just in case."

[meant-to-be-a-hero]

Ranger Rankings - Power Rangers Dino Charge/Dino Super Charge

Spoiler alert - these two were really great.

Premise - 4.5

The Energems give the team a reason to come together, and to stay together until everything's sorted. We've already had multiple dinosaur themed seasons, but this one really uses dinosaurs as a backdrop even moreso than Dino Thunder did, right up to the very end.

The mythology around the Energems evolves nicely, and it feels like something that's constantly important rather than just relevant when the plot demands it.

The museum setting works really well (although how many people need to work in a café at once?) and the idea of an intergalactic bounty hunter has been played with before, but these seasons really go in on that a bit more.

The only problem I have is that they could have been a little more serialised in the search for the Energems they didn't have, a la Operation Overdrive.

Character Dynamics - 4.5

This season's characters are all so good, I don't even know where to start. Everyone's totally different, and they take a little while to get to know one another and grow into their own. But they're all totally formed characters rather than just bullet point character traits, and they're all believable too.

Everyone has an arc, even people like Kendall who only really comes out of the cave when she needs to yell at people initially, and it doesn't feel like the story's weighted in anyone's favour particularly. Even Tyler, whose quest for his dad feels super-important, doesn't override everyone else's stories.

I just really love these idiots. They're all so good.

Sixth Ranger Arc - 4.5

If we just limit this to Ivan, then it's probably a 3.5 or something. He's great, but he does fade into the background a little every now and then after his initial arc. He gets some fun spotlights though, and I liked the relationship between him and Koda as men out of time.

But this season had the most Rangers ever on a team, so the entire series basically becomes a Sixth Ranger arc, because after Ivan and Phillip (who turn up in quick succession) there's James, Kendall, and Zenowing to take into account, and with each successive Ranger the team grows stronger and has even more interactions to balance.

Phillip's probably the least developed of them all - he has his initial arc of learning not to throw money and things and not to be a pompous ass, but after that he kind of just shows up as needed for Sentai footage. He's a good guy, but he does become a little faceless.

James' plotline takes its time to get going, but I liked his interplay with Tyler a lot. They actually had plausible reasons for him to go off and do his own thing too, I'm glad they took the time to explain his absences.

And Zenowing, who I thought would be daft, was actually a decent addition to the team. He's again totally different to everyone else, and he does have a role to play rather than just standing in the background.

Oh, and Kendall becoming a Ranger and just taking it in her stride and no one questioning her on it at all? Yeah, we like that.

Plot Development - 4

I'm proud of these seasons for having plots that thread through both Dino Charge and Super Dino Charge rather than just closing everything down at the end of one to start something new. Samurai did it too to an extent, whereas Megaforce you could basically cut down the middle. Dino Charge and Super Dino Charge really do feel like evolutions of one another.

The search for the Energems is a good impetus to keep everything going, and it presents good reasons for the villains to keep going after the Rangers specifically so they can take them back, rather than just attacking the Rangers because they're in the way.

If anything, there can sometimes be a few too many one-and-done episodes where the villains JUST go after the Rangers, which stalls the momentum somewhat, but you can't say that the threat doesn't escalate as the plot goes on. Compare where we start with where we end and it's such a huge difference.

Villains - 4.5

I don't think I've had as much fun with villains in a season since Lothor or Dai Shi.

Sledge could easily have become one-dimensional, but his relationships with everyone else on the ship kept him interesting. I never knew whether he was going to yell at Poisandra or kiss her.

Speaking of, Poisandra was hilarious. Again, she could have been far too one note, but they made her interesting in her own right by giving her her own plans, and Curio, while a tad bland, was a good straight man for her plots.

I did get a little bored of Fury by the end, but at least they kept him relevant by having him face off with other generals. It's nice when the good guys get along, but it's better when the bad guys don't. I also really liked Wrench, who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty even though he was the tech guy.

I do think Dino Super Charge has the better villains though; Heckyl and Snide were a good pair, and Heckyl's eventual face turn was actually a nice surprise. The idea that he wasn't evil at all until the Dark Energem was well handled, and while his redemption arc came right at the last minute, it did feel complete and earned.

I also really liked Lord Arcanon and Singe; they ran the risk of being too little, too late, coming in with only like 8 episodes of a season left, but they had history with the other villains that made them relevant, and Arcanon's overblown sense of self-importance made him fun too.

Overall - 4.40

Hottest Ranger - Oh god, this one's far too hard. It's like a four-way tie between Tyler, Chase, Riley, and Koda, all for different reasons. Stick them in a blender and give me the perfect Ranger.

Notable Episodes:

When Logic Fails - A crystal maze-esque episode which shows off Riley's unique talents.

Wishing For A Hero - The Rangers make wishes that all go terribly, terribly wrong.

Love At First Fight - Mostly for Beauticruel's terrible accent.

Freaky Fightday - Body swap episode? Body swap episode.

Edge Of Extinction/End Of Extinction - World-wide Zord fights! Time travel! A black hole! A happy ending!

I'd also like to mention how good all four holiday specials were. They're all clip shows, but they have such good, fun set-ups that they're not a chore to watch like the holiday specials usually are. Trick Or Trial was especially good.

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

What about Aragorn x witch reader? The night of Helms Deep battle she helps Aragorn put on his armor and get ready and she tells Aragorn she will keep him safe and assure him that they will survive? Aragorn was everyone's emotional support that night the man needs someone to do the same for him🥺

This request is so cool! Let’s do this!

You were a bit of an odd case amongst the court of Théoden. The man had been ill, years prior to everything that was going on now. You had saved his life with an unconventional remedy and the man started asking you for more assistance. Or at least this was the story everyone was told. Your days amongst his court were typically very pleasant though. This however was one of the worst days of your life. The man that you had spent multiple years helping had betrayed you and stuck you in the dungeons. 

You paced when you were bored and when your legs were too tired you sat. Éowyn was the only thing keeping you alive, you being too frail now to even function. Fucking Grima allowed Saruman to seep into Théoden’s mind, poisoning his boy and soul. 

You laid on the floor, clinging to the only crack of sunlight you could find, unaware that Gandalf was there now with the future heroes of Middle Earth. You coughed, sick from the lack of basic human needs and struggling to remain alive. In one last poor attempt to fight you said “help”. You weren’t expecting an answer.

Gandalf turned, looking around. “Is there something wrong Gandalf?” Legolas asked. “Do you have a wizard in your court?” Gandalf asked Théoden who was now well and alive. Théoden’s eyes widened and Éowyn took off in the direction of the dungeons. The group all followed her, finding you barely breathing. “My gods.” Théoden gaped at the sight of you chained to the wall, eyes tired, skin pale. “Get this woman some water!” Gandalf demanded. A guard ran over with a pitcher of water. “It’s Grima he let--” “We know...” “Saruman has betrayed us all” “We know.” Éowyn soothed, you leaning against her. “I’m so sorry Lady Y/n.” Théoden said. “I should apologize to you my king... I let you fall into the hands of Grima, I should have been more vigilant.” You muttered. Aragorn looked in your eyes, you meeting his gaze. You seemed exhausted just by the mere act of standing. 

“Sir Aragorn can you take her to the-” Aragorn needed no further instruction, lifting you up. He walked to the healers, you still in his arms. “I’ve seen you before.” you muttered, groggily. “I do not recall when we have met.” Aragorn said. “It was not a meeting... It was a vision.” You muttered. Aragorn tensed. “You are Isildur’s-” “No. You’re mistaken, my lady.” He halted. 

Hours passed before you joined everyone in the main hall again. “Lady Y/n, it is good to see you recovered.” Théoden said as you walked. Aragorn was shocked at the sight of you. No longer were you frail, no longer were you pale and close to death, you were beautiful. Your hair was pulled back but you were a dress similar to Éowyn but it was blue, reminding Aragorn of Arwen. You stood up straight, bowing to the king. “Now for a proper introduction. This is Lady Y/n L/n of Rohan. She is our court mage.” Theoden introduced. “I do not deserve such a warm welcome your majesty.” you said softly. “Nonsense. She’s more of a daughter to me than an assistant.” Théoden said. “You speak more kindly than I deserve.” You muttered. “Y/n, where is this coming from?” Eowyn asked. “I should’ve done more than what I did to keep Grima away from the both of you.” you muttered. Aragorn noticed your eyes, sad as they looked forward. “My dear girl, an army couldn’t have swayed my way once Saruman took control.” He said. 

You still seemed remorseful, looking down. “Lady Y/n, it is an honor to finally meet the lady of the lake.” Gandalf said, Legolas gaping. You turned. “You are the Lady of the Lake?” Legolas asked. “What has earned you that title I wonder?” Gimli asked. Aragorn was equally as confused as the dwarf on the title. “You know not of the lady of the lake--” “Shh!” You hushed. Footsteps came from behind the door before it opened, two terrified looking children stepping into the hall. “These two children rode in from a village in the west.” A guard said. You frowned. “Then we are in need of evacuation.” you said. You kept a stern face, Aragorn raising a brow until you looked the little girl in the eyes and kneeled to her level. 

“What is your name?” You asked, your voice soft and expression softening. “Freda- my name is Freda.” She whimpered. You brushed the hair from her face. “The children will remain with Lady Éowyn, my lord I request that we-” “We will send our citizens to Helm’s Deep.” Théoden said. You nodded. “You will help the citizens--” “No my lord.”  you halted. He rose a brow, as did Aragorn and Legolas. “I charge with the men, you need protection outside of a sword.” you stated. He sighed. “I cannot ask this of you. It is like letting my own child go out there.” He said. “Nor can I ask you to lead towards death, for it is like sending my father to his doom.” you said simply. He sighed, Aragorn looking at you. “Then you charge with us.” He said. You nodded, turning on your heel.

The next time Aragorn saw you, you were in armor, your hair pulled back out of your face. You seemed quiet, watching the new addition to the group in silence. You rode next to Aragorn, not speaking as you listened to Gimli’s rather odd tales of home. “So your title.” Aragorn started. You looked over, nodding. “You’re referring to this ‘lady of the lake’ business I suppose.” you shrugged. “What did earn you that name?” Gimli asked. You chuckled, looking ahead at Théoden as he rode. You glanced at your wrists for a moment, them being covered by your vambraces. 

“I was almost dead. Goblins had stormed my village and nearly took my life. They left me for dead in a lake not far from it.” You muttered. Theoden looked at you with a sad look. “Something in me wanted to keep fighting. It wanted to stay alive.” Aragorn noticed that look in your eyes, it being far off and pained. “So when they least expected it, when they were removing the sword from my brother’s corpse all they saw was a woman with glowing white eyes emerge from the waters before they were struck down and killed with my powers.” You explained. Aragorn looked at the sword on your side. “Was that your brother’s then?” He asked. “Yes.” you nodded. “How did you end up with Lord Theoden?” Gimli asked. You smiled kindly to the dwarf. “I went unconscious after using my abilities. He found me, asking if I wished to stay with his niece. I said no after first but not long after he found me he fell ill. My mother taught me the ways of medicine and I nursed him back to health. After helping him his villagers started coming to me. After two years, I agreed to help him.” You answered. “You seem happy here.” Aragorn said. You looked at Éowyn who was smiling at something a villager said. “I am.” you answered. 

Aragorn liked that smile. It was beautiful, it reminded him of home. “I know of an elven woman who is skilled with water magic.” Aragorn said. “I stayed with the woman you are speaking of.” You said. He blinked. “Arwen Undomiel is the woman you are speaking of, correct?” you asked. He nodded slowly, raising a brow. “Before I lived in the village I stayed with the elves. I spent most of my time in Lothlorien but I also spent some of my time in Rivendell, learning the art of healing from Elrond.” You said. “Why not stay with your family?” Gimli asked. “Power without control is a dangerous thing sir Gimli.” you said. “You trained with us?” Legolas asked. “Yes. I have indeed met your father. Great man. Stern. But great.” you said. Legolas seemed to tense up at the mention of his father. “There are many strange things about you Y/n.” Aragorn stated. “I know. But strange and mysterious is more fun that way, don’t you think?” You asked, clearly amused by the man’s confusion. He gave you a small smile, your heart doing a small backflip as you looked at him.

“Are you close with Lady Arwen?” you asked. “She is practically my sister.” He admitted. You looked over confused. “Elrond raised me.” he said. You rose a brow. “Then how have we never crossed paths if you were in the same places that I was.” you asked. “I am much older than I appear, my lady.” He said. You looked at the man confused. “I am 87.” He said, you blinking with surprise. “You have seen many winters my lord when I have only seen 25.” you said. “You are wise for a woman who is so young.” He said, smiling. Again your heart pounded in your ears. “I have seen many things in this world that provided me with wisdom.” you told him, smiling at him. He felt this strange feeling in his chest. 

You noticed a bird in the sky, sticking your arm out so it would perch. It landed, you looking at it as you fed it a cracker from your pack. “There are enemies nearby.” you said. Aragorn rose a brow. “You’ve kept a sentinel?” He asked. “Yes I have.” You answered before lifting your arm, the hawk flying away. You drew your sword, Theoden riding off to the side instructing the men to protect and fight as best as they could. You all rode away from the group, deterring the enemy away from the refugees. 

Aragorn immediately noticed you abandoning the horse you rode in on, sending it back to the group before you swung your sword, cutting down an orc. You fought hard, Aragorn noticing your skill. But the large thing he noticed was your habit of keeping close to Théoden. By no means was the man unskilled for battle, he was fighting very well. You though, had this raw energy of fighting that seemed untouchable. 

You stabbed an enemy close to you, noticing a warg hurdling towards Aragorn before you stuck out your hand, an invisible force knocking it back out of the way of him. It seemed annoyed by your intervention, standing back up. “Shit.” you breathed as it prepared to charge. It sprinted forward, readying your blade before someone blocked for you, attacking the warg before it could hit you. You looked at him, nodding as a thank you before another warg bit your arm, dragging you as it ran. Aragorn frowned, about to stab it before he realized that his boot had latched itself to the saddle that an orc rode on. “CUT IT FREE!” you yelled, smacking the warg to make it let go. It was in vain as Aragorn made one last attempt to do as he was told before the warg launched itself off of the cliff. 

You managed to get free, cutting the loose leather strap of the boot away, pulling Aragorn close. “What are you-” “Trust me” was the last thing Aragorn heard. 

Your bodies collided with the waters, it feeling like concrete when you landed. You both washed up on shore, you being a bit more lucid than Aragorn who was still unconscious. “Spirits -o nature hear nin plea. Help nin help nin núr. Help nin help hon núr (spirits of nature, hear my plea, please help me help my people. Help me help him)” You whispered, your voice traveling on the wind before you closed your eyes. You felt something hanging over you, you looking up at a horse… the horse you sent back to the group. You pulled yourself up by the reins, lifting Aragorn up. He groggily climbed onto the horse, you doing the same before it rode on. 

You chose to rest while riding, Aragorn slowly waking up. He was leaning against something. He leaned back, his vision slowly returning before seeing you, slightly hunched over as you slept. He was grateful for you. You had saved his life taking most of that fall and he had been much appreciative of that. He noticed that peaceful look on your face, your eyes closed, hair damp from the waters of the river and cheeks slightly rosy from the cold. He held you closer, providing his body heat to keep you warm and you tensed up at first. 

It wasn’t until dusk that you actually woke up, Aragorn holding the reins to the horse. You leaned up after realizing that you had fallen asleep against him. “You’re awake.” He noticed. “Yes….” you muttered before noticing something. You leaned forward, looking at the horizon and frowning. You took the reins from Aragorn, making the horse ride faster. “Y/n, What are you doing?” He asked. “There are forces coming from the west, we don’t have much time before they reach Helm’s Deep!” you said.

So you rode, clearly worried. Aragorn couldn’t stop looking at you, something was different about you. Maybe it was the fact that you were no longer a frail woman who needed assistance to even do so much as walk. Maybe it was the fact that you were so determined to save your people from a potentially hopeless battle. Aragorn found himself admiring you. 

You rode through the lands, encouraging your horse to go as fast as it could before arriving at the gates. Éowyn was overwhelmed when she saw you, her hugging you on sight. “You’re alive! I knew it!” She said. “Where is Lord Théoden?” you asked. “He is in the hall, Y/n I don’t think he--” “Forces are coming and fast. We must fight, we do not have a choice.” you said before walking past her. You shoved the doors open, walking into the hold. “Lady Y/n!” Théoden gasped, hugging you. “The people are in danger my lord, we must fight. We have no choice” You said. “We do not have the men-” “Then we must call for aid my lord, we have to do something!” you said, urging him to fight. “Y/n, you act as if we have resources to do so.” he said. “We do, we can ask for Gondor’s aid!” you said. “Gondor!?” “Yes my lord! If we call for aid-” “Calling Gondor would be useless.They will do nothing!” He said. “My lord if we fight with only our men we risk leaving them all to die.” You said. He let out a frustrated sigh. “If you do not wish to call for aid then I could-” “No.” He halted you. You frowned. “Sire, our people need protection, if you would just let me-” “I will not allow you to do that Y/n, do not press this any further.” Théoden halted. “Sire-” “I REFUSE Y/N, NOW STOP!” He yelled. You swallowed hard, Aragorn looking at you as you pushed past him and walked out. 

You started taking off your arm braces, Aragorn walking after you. “Y/n, there may yet be hope.” He said. You shook your head. “So long as it is only our men that charge, there is no hope for survival sir Aragorn.” You breathed, braiding your hair. He frowned, putting a hand on your shoulder. “There is still hope Y/n, if you would trust me.” He said. You looked in his eyes, before looking down. “There is one last thing that we can do my lord…” you said with a sigh. You looked at your wrists, the markings of chains embedded on your skin. “What is that?” He asked. You looked at him and shook your head. “I am… Not what you believe me to be.” You told him. “What is it that you mean?” He asked. “My lord I am not in Théoden’s court as a healer or a sorceress.” you said. He raised a brow. “Then what are you there for?” He asked. “I am a weapon.” you answered. 

He looked at you. “I am not to use my abilities unless it is life or death for it may kill me.” You admitted. Aragorn frowned. “Then no, we will not use that.” He said. “We have no choice, if it is my life for hundreds then so be it.” you said. “I cannot lose you!” He said. “Why? Because you care for me!? I care too much for my people than to sacrifice their winning chance because you decided to feel something for me.” you snapped. He sighed, closing his eyes. “If we lose you, who’s to say that sacrifice would not be in vain?” He asked. You sighed. “I must try Aragorn. Even if it does kill me.” you said softly. He closed his eyes and you put a hand to his cheek.

“Im am sorrui an what cin lothron lose Aragorn. But know i whatever does happen. Im ceri- care an cin. (I am sorry for what you may lose Aragorn. But know that whatever does happen... I do care for you.)” You said softly. He opened his eyes, looking at you. “I should find the armory.” you said, clearing your throat and leaving.

Hours had past, the sun was falling on the horizon and war was creeping closer. You had remained in the armory, watching children who shouldn’t be prepping to die, prepare for death. You looked over, Aragorn putting on his armor in silence. You walked over, tightening a strap he couldn’t reach. He cleared his throat. “Are you really… going out there?” he asked. “Unless a miracle happens then I will make whatever sacrifice I have to.” you muttered. Aragorn looked down, clearly saddened by this. First he lost a woman who was practically his sister by sailing away to the Undying Lands. Now he was losing someone all over again. 

You heard a loud horn, looking up confused. “That is no orc horn.” Legolas noticed. You rushed off with Aragorn, walking out to see elves. You paused, looking at the sight in front of you. “Who… called for aid?” You asked, looking at the elven general. “I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together.” Haldir said. Aragorn smiled. “We come to honor that allegiance.” Haldir added. “Mae govannen, Haldir. (Welcome, Haldir)” Aragorn greeted. He hugged the man, earning a small smile from you. “You are most welcome!” Aragorn said clearly relieved by the man’s presence alone. 

Morale boosted greatly as you continued to prepare for war. Théoden found you putting on your breastplate. “Y/n… a word.” He said. You turned around. “Yes, my lord?” you asked. “I apologize for yelling at you earlier, it was wrong of me.” He said. He noticed you didn’t put on your vambraces. “Are you planning on using your abilities?” he asked. You swallowed. “...I saw those forces Théoden… There’s too many… We will lose.” you muttered. “...Do what you think is best.” He said after a long silence. You looked up. “Sire-” “you have always done what was best for our people. You’ve fought strongly and bravely and when I said you were like my daughter, I meant it.” Théoden said. “Sire… Do you think I should use my abilities?” you asked. “I think you should only use them in a moment you think it’s truly needed.” He said. You nodded before he walked out. 

You walked to the wall, standing next to Aragorn. “You seem a bit more confident.” you muttered, looking at the man as he adjusted his boot. “Indeed. We have more aid.” he said. “Aragorn I..” you sighed and shook your head, him raising a brow. “Y/n if you wish to say something I’d advise you to say it before we possibly die.” he said. You rolled your eyes. "Great job on boosting the morale sir Aragorn." You muttered. "Speak now or forever hold your peace." He said sarcastically. You sighed. "... You've been pleasant to be around. And I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. I want you to know that whatever happens out there… I'm glad that I am fighting next to you. And I'm glad that I knew you." You said to him. Aragorn rose, looking at you. You faced the battlefield, trying to ignore the gaze of the man. 

Course that became more difficult to ignore when Aragorn pulled you into a kiss. You sunk into it, your heart beating in your ears as you nearly collapsed into the man's arms. "I am glad to have you with me." He said softly. You nodded slowly before he walked off to investigate the other groups on the walls. 

Rain poured around you as twilight finally set and you could see the forces approaching. Aragorn soon came back to a place on the wall, looking at you as you stared at the forces gathering and then the chain tattoo on your wrists. Aragorn looked at you before taking your hand. You looked at him and then turned back to the battlefield. You had a dagger in your freehand, you looking at your wrist and then the battlefield again. "....Aragorn?" You muttered. He looked over. "Hmm?" He asked. "Thank you for being here." You said softly. He smiled and you looked back at the battlefield. You slid the dagger back into your holster, looking at the orcish army before you.

Perhaps you would live to see another day.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Reunited.”

Just tying up some loose ends, also see the post I made right before this about a stupid story that happened to me while writing this. It is kind of funny :) 

The day was hot, very hot, and the sun beat down on fort harmony with merciless intent. Over the tarmac, the sweltering heat caused little mirrages, as puddles of water to appear and then vanish down the runway. 

The heat was oppressive enough that no birds sang, and even the roaring of the engines had been dulled by a day that none of the en were willing to venture out of the air cooled airplane hangers.

Only one figure remained outside staring up at the blue sky and the oppressive sun beaming down upon her.

Waffles limped over the hot pavement, the tarmac burning the delicate pads of her feet, but if she stopped walking it would only hurt even more.

Her tail drooped towards the ground,

It was so hot.

She made it across the tarmac and down to the little shaded area where someone had set up a discarded cardboard box and a bowl of water.

Her feet continued to ache, and she licked at them with her long, pink, tongue though that only brought momentary relief from the burns.

Across the tarmac two men watched her form the open hanger door. It wasn’t that they hadn’t tried to get her to come inside, they had, it was just that she wouldn't, and no amount of cajoling or bribing her had worked. THey felt bad of course, but there was nothing much else they could do.

One of the men felt bad enough to brave the heat and bring over a bag of ice which he pressed onto her paws for a time before having to return to his work.

Waffles laid her head down and closed her eyes ears drooping.

So hot 

Overhead an engine sounded. It was a familiar noise by now,and only one of her eyes cracked open to watch the shuttle descend from the sky and come to land on the scouring earth. She closed her eyes again, listening to the distant sounds as the shuttle doors open, and human voices swelled up around her.

It was then that she was hit with the smell.

IThe heat washed over her face and straight up into her nose with a smell she had been waiting for for months now. 

She shot to her feet ears up nose lifted.

Her tail began to wag 

And despite the heat of the burning tarmac, she raced across the open space yipping and barking and whining for all she was worth

***

Adam stepped out of the shuttle into a sheer wall of heat. It was like being punched in the face by the sun. The borrowed flight suit he now wore was immediately sweltering and he fanned himself with one hand already beginning to pant.

Behind him Sunny and the other stepped down onto the tarmac.

Sunny Immediately yelped and sprung back into the shuttle

Adam couldn’t help but laugh, but that was when a high pitched whining noise reached his ears. A whining barking, yipping noise that immediately had him turning towards the sound eyes wide.

It started out as a small shape barely distinguishable from the sand and grass to the side of the tarmac, and then, as it raced towards him it coalesced into a furry bullet.

“Watffles!” He shouted, taking a few steps down from the ramp as she raced up, and leaped into the air.

He caught her mid arc staggering back a few steps as she attacked his face was the kind of love that could only be bestowed by man's best friend. She whined and whimpered and her tail wagged and her body wriggled so hard he had a tough time holding onto her. 

“Hey pretty girl!”

Wavvles whimpered and barked some more licking his face and the side of his head repeatedly to the point where his hair was damp.

He laughed and held her to his chest, her tail thudding against his side and back.

She didn’t seem very inclined to get down, and the Tarmac was so hot he worried about her paws burning. So instead he held her like a large baby in his arms, and once she was finally done licking his face, she rested her head against his neck and chest nuzzling every now and against at his chin just to remind him she was there.

Not that he could forget an 80 lb German Shepherd.

Behind him the others were laughing and awing.

Ramirez had videoed the whole thing, and continued to video as they made their way across the tarmac and too one of the hangers. Waffles didn’t seem to have any intention of getting down.

Finally they stepped into the hanger, and reluctantly he set her back on the floor, though she insisted on sitting on his feet every time he came to a stop.

Across the room there was a clamouring of voices, and A group of at least five people came charging across the room.

His family hugged him so hard, he thought he was going to crack a rib, and he laughed right along with them as they stammered out nar incoherent sentences.

Eventually his mother pulled back wiping her eyes on hand resting on his cheek the other on his shoulder, “Boy, you need a shave.”

He smiled, “Yeah, can't say there are many razors in a wormhole.”

“I knew it, I knew it. Our baby brother is invincible.” David announced, slapping him on the back so hard he nearly stumbled forward.

Waffles looked up at him her tial thudding against the floor, her tongue lolling form her mouth

“Where were you!”

“Not sure if I am allowed to say just yet, but i'll tell you when I know what I am allowed to say. Let's just start by saying that it wasn’t pleasant, but it’s a great story, ad it involves  miraculous escape planned and executed by yours truly in a fantastic manor.”

HIs mother sighed, “At least you came back wit hall your body parts in tact this time.”

She turned her head to look down and smiled, “Dr. Krill we are so glad you made it back too. We were devastated to hear that you had gone missing as well.”

The doctors saved a polite hand, “No matter.”

She gave him a very light hug anyway, careful to avoid crushing him or something, which he seemed to enjoy despite himself.

Thomas crossed his arms, “Hey, is anyone gonna thank me for bringing him back in one piece?”

Martha sighed and grabbed him up in a hug, “Thank you for bringing yourself home in one piece.” She pulled back, “ How was the war.”

HE grinned, “It was awesome, we mounted a revolution.”

She shook her head, “I can’t take you anywhere because you're either discovering extraterrestrial life or overthrowing corrupt governments.”

Thomas grinned, “Plus I think this has finally made me realize what I want to do with my life.”

Adam smiled as he watched his brother, this was arguably the happiest he had ever seen thomas: who was known for his sullen nature and moodiness. Life hadn’t been easy on him, and he had jumped and bounced from one thing to another in between relapses.

“Oh, and what is that?”

He motioned back to where the rest of the group was standing, “Well I was talking to Ramirez and Maverick and I…. I think joining the marines would be good for me.” He got a slap on the back from their father, who seemed more than pleased with the idea.

Martha assigned, “Of course I should  have seen that coming.” She smile, “I am proud of you. Just try not to overthrown anymore empires while you’re at it.”

He grinned, “No promises.

Adam got hugged a few more times after that seeing as no one was really willing to believe that he was alive.

Even the men he didn’t know from around base stopped by to shake his hand and tell him how glad they were that he was back.

The UNSC sorely missed him.

At some point Krill insisted on doctoring him, and dragged him back into the medical bay where he did all he docterly things, blood pressure temperature pulse. Sunny stood in the corner with both sets of arms crossed over her chest.

He might have asked her to wait in the hall, but he had a feeling that that request wouldn’t go down so well, so he let it go.

Krill examined the three large gashes on his chest and where they had healed over into large, livid puckered red scars.

“Hmm, I could probably fix this. WIth a consultation from a plastic surgeon.” He muttered 

Adam waved him off, ‘It’s alright Krill, I think they look kind of badass, sort of a tarzan king of the jungle sort of vibe.”

Krill glowered at him, “Well one of these days you are just going to have to pick ONE vibe, because space cyborg pirate Tarzan is getting to be a bit of a mouthful.”

Adam laughed.

Sunny harumphed glowering angrily at the new scars.

Krill turned to look down at the ones on his upper forearms, which hadn’t scarred up yet, but where still in the process of being scabbed over, “And what are these.”

“Er…. I had to get the attention of the keepers, and that was the only way to do it without them heightening security on me.”

Sunny’s fists clenched even further.

Krill flipped over his hand, which was still raw and red, “Let me guess”

Adam shrugged sheepishly, “Well you know how it is.”

He turned his head to look at Sunny and quickly looked away as her stare bored a hole in his forehead.

At the end of the medical bay, the door slid open and a soldier stepped inside hurrying over to offer him a set of ACUs and a pair of boots, “These should fit sir, the brass will be here in half and hour, and will meet with you in the war room… I… mean the conference room !A.” He turned on his heels and walked out, big boots clomping on the tile as he went.

Adam changed quickly and managed to hunt down a razor in enough time to get a quick shave in before meeting with his superiors. He didn’t understand why other men wanted a beard so much, it was really nothing to be happy about, and it made his face itch. Felt so much better when the thing was finally gone and he was free.

Sunny was a little miffed when she had to wait out in the hall as he and waffles stepped into the conference room, which he could immediately see why they called the warm room. It was less like a conference room and more like mission control. The room was large, lined on all sides with massive monitors which cast pale blue light down onto the large, elongated table with its holographic touch screen.

As soon as he walked in an entire room of officers stood from their seats.

“Commander!”

“Its good to see you, son.”

“We thought you were dead.”

“Earth is going to be happy to hear you’re alive.” He smiled and greeted the others with a firm handshake despite how tired he was, “It takes more than a wormhole to take a human out.” He said taking the seat offered to him near the head of the table.

Admiral Kelly had broken from her usual serious demeanor into a smile, “We are glad to have you back, Commandr. A lot has happened since you left.”

“Can I get a quick summary?”

“Well we learned that the balck hole, or I suppose wormhole now that we know, was created in part by the burg working with the voiceless kree. The voiceless have long been in conflict with the voiced and allied with the burg to turn our ire against the voiced. However, they pose no significant threat without burg technology and so we focused mostly on the burg. Your ship was of course, in pieces, but nearly all you crew survived as they were picked up by other ships in the near vicinity. You were pronounced MIA as was Dr. Krill. ONly three on your ship didn’t make it, and one of our ships was permanently crippled with over 50 casualties and 100 additional injuries.”

HE grimaced, but held back on the guilt for a moment.

“After that battle, the GA came to council, and war was declared on the burg. We sent in the GA armada and over 1000 shock troopers on to the face of the planet. While there a small team comprised mostly of your old crew discovered that the burg king was being imprisoned in a cavern below the throne room and allied with him to replace the queen with a successor.”

He had heard that part of the story , but it didn’t cease to amaze him.”

“Beyond that it was actually quite simple.”

“And my ship?”

“We will get to that in a moment, commander, but now its your turn.”

He nodded and sighed hand to his head, “Where to begin. Of course you know I initiated the shatter protocol when it seemed there was no possible escape for my crew. I stayed behind to initiate assuming, like you, it was a black hole. However, when I didn’t die and was shot out to some unknown location, it appeared as if it was a wormhole instead. I managed to crashland the command deck on the planet below, which was habitable. It was an alien world, but seemed rather…. Jurassic…. In nature. I managed to salvage the emergency kits from under one of the crew seats and survived for a week or two on the beach well fed and warm, however,while I was out in an attempt to boost a radio signal, I ran into some sort of alien creature which attacked me. The wounds I received were pretty bad, but I managed to kill it. I was losing blood fast and probably wouldnt have survived if the Omnidroids-”

“Wait, I’m sorry, the WHAT!”

“Sorry, sir, The omnidroids are what I nicknamed them because they look like something form an old movie. Think large ball with five big stumpy legs and a tiny head on toop.”

They nodded and he continued.

“Anyway, I ran into a group of them, and they helped with my sounds. I couldn’t understand them, and I am pretty sure their speech is in a much lower register because it was like listening to whales talk. Anyway, they brought me aboard one of their ships, and kept me there for a day or two. When we landed I was let out into an enclosure of some sort, turned out to be some kind of alien zoo.”

They stared at him.

He stared back.

“Your kidding?”

“No time for joking, commander.”

He shook his head, “I am not joking. I am serious, the enclosure that I was in had perfect temperature plenty of water and lots of food, but I could see other alien creatures outside the window and above me, just looking at me. Drones came in every now and again to feed me or clean the pen.”

They staired in silent awe.

“Anyway, from there I concluded it was likely they didn’t know I was sentient, so I determined that escape was possible if I let them think that. I started trying to figure out if I was being watched, and their response time if i was. Once tht was done I picked an appropriate time to escape, and used the iron eye armor I still had one from meeting with the Kree and pried open the bars before setting all of the other creatures loose. I found Dr. Krill on my way out, and we hijacked a shuttle.”

“How did you know how to get back?”

He shook his head, “I didn’t. But that was when the space dragon showed up.”

They stared at him again.

He held up his hands, “ I swear I am not making any of this up. That is exactly what happened It created some sort of wormhole and I ended up in the middle of a burg battle in space.”

“So there is an entire alien society separate from the one we already have.”

“It seems so?”

“And the shuttle?”

“It was handed over to GA scientists for examination and potentially reverse engineering.”

They nodded.

He waited for them to say anything else before.

“So…. my crew is safe but my ship?”

They shook their heads, “Is gone,” THey held up a hand to cut him off, “However it was actually a  stroke of good fortune as we have been building new ships for the fleet over the past few years, and one of them was close to completion. So, using the scraps leftover from your ship we were able to finish the job.” They leaned forward, “Commander, despite any issues we have had with your commanding in the past, we have determined that to judge you by the standards of the old military was a faux pax on our part. Space is new, and requires something from men that it hasn’t required before.”

He waited to see where this was going.

“The new armada will be nearly five times the size of the old. The captains as they are now will be promoted to fleet commanders and will be over their own unit of ships. The ship that the harbinger was recycled to make, is twice as big as your old ship with room for over 1000 crew members. It has the latest in alien and human technology and is the most advanced space vessel humanity has ever seen.”

It was an important reminder at this point not to pee himself out of excitement, so he kept his face stony, though he wanted nothing more than to jump around like a little girl squealing.

“However, since the captains would be promoted to fleet commander, that means that you will have to be promoted against as well.”

He paused.

“I… but I haven't been commander for all that long.”

“The UNSC fleet is growing at a rapid rate, and to keep up with it, we are going to have to adapt rapidly as well.”

“So, commander, do you accept?”

He paused and looked down at his hands, “I’m not moving to a desk job, sir.”

“No, no you won't. But you will be commanding a larger ship and thousands more people. Do you think you can handle that? He paused again looking down at his hands thoughtfully.

“Yes, I think I can.” 

[vermilionskiinmorning]

𝕺𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖞||TLK Fic|| FinanxOC||Eight

AN:  Aye! Here I am again after a ridiculously long and random hiatus. So sorry about that by the way, but here we are with the next chapter :) I hope ya'll enjoy!

Story Summary:  Tove chose to surrender rather than be killed, after Sigfried was defeated at Beamfleot, giving herself up to the mercy of the Saxons. Thanks to Finan’s intervention, her life is indeed spared and she is brought into Uhtred’s service. With the sting of defeat fresh on her tongue and her new life fighting for the Saxons secured; Tove is left wondering what tricks the Gods have in store for her next.

Words:5229

Rypere and Kenward loitered near the horses while they waited for Uhtred’s command to move out. Only one of the two would be leaving with the soldiers. Kenward had been pulled from his regular duties to serve as a part of the forces heading to aid Alfred against Bloodhair. Rypere had not been chosen for that mission. He would instead be left under the command of Cerdic in Lundene, protecting Uhtred’s family.

“Lady Tove’s horse is still in his stall.” Observed Kenward tacitly.

Fixing Kenward with a bored look, Rypere sighed. He didn’t bother to correct Kenward’s use of the word Lady as there was no point. The comment was more than the simple statement of fact and the young Saxon knew it. Since Kenward had overheard Tove would also be staying behind as part of the guard, he had been probing his friend continuously, and it was starting to grate on Rypere.

“I imagine you’ll be spending quite a bit of time together. Has Cerdic assigned shifts?”

“You are the least subtle person I have ever met,” Rypere stated.

Kenward shrugged, hardly able to argue the observation. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Rypere considered his answer. “He did.”

“Well?” Kenward pressed. “Are you on shift with her?”

“Does it even matter?”

“Does it even matter?” Kenward gaped. “Of course, it does. God has done you a favor, and you would squander it?”

Rypere snorted incredulously. “I would not call bringing the Danes to bear against Wessex a favor.”

Kenward went to smack Rypere’s arm, but he dodged. “You know what I mean! Everyone will be away -Finan will be away. There are only six in the guard. Is it just chance you were both picked?”

“Finan offered to put in a word for me,” Rypere deflected.

“But has he? That was before Uhtred met with Jarl Haesten. It’s been weeks.” Kenward looked unimpressed.

“I don’t know.” Admitted Rypere.

Expression unchanging, Kenward said. “Then, I should think not.”

Rypere knew he had more to say, so simply waited for him to have out with it; prompting him would only make Kenward more circuitous in getting to his point, which Rypere hadn’t the patients for just then.

“I was on guard at the wall a few days ago when I saw Finan ride out toward the wood.” Kenward paused, glancing at something out of Rypere’s line of vision, and only continued after Rypere had cleared his throat. “Anyway, he was gone for hours. And when he came back, who do you think was with him?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rypere closed his eyes for a moment. “Must I ask?”

“Well if you don’t want to know.” Kenward retorted indignantly.

“You gossip worse than a woman. Fine, who was with him?” Rypere asked finally, though he felt he knew the answer.

“Tove. If I had to guess, they arranged to meet out in the woods…” Kenward trailed off.

The implication of Kenward’s tale hung heavily between them, stoking the flicker of doubt Rypere had about the Irishman’s intent. He did not like how the story made him feel because he admired Finan -respected him deeply as a warrior- but it brought him back to the night he’d asked Tove to have a drink with him.  When he’d asked Finan to put in a word with Tove for him, Rypere had thought for just a moment the man might say no.

“No,” Rypere said, his tone halting.

Kenward’s brows rose. “Yes…I heard them laughing together as they came to the gate.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” Rypere’s tone was snappish now.

Kenward held up a hand. “All I am saying is, the two have been close ever since she joined us.”

“She is close to Sihtric, Uhtred, and Osferth as well.” It was a feeble defense all but defeated by the incredulous look Rypere received in reply.

“As I said, this is an opportunity for you to become close too,” Kenward said encouragingly. “Do you not love her?”

Rypere did not know what to say. His friend had an excellent point. Whatever had or had not occurred in the woods between Finan and Tove, aside who could say how long it would take to defeat Bloodhair? It was a perfect chance for him to make a move. And perhaps despite his prior fumbles, Tove may even be more receptive to it without a distraction.

Villages dotted the West Saxon countryside interspersed with farmland and pastures that went on for miles. Galloping on horseback across that vast rolling country had a freeing nature to it that set Kåre grinning with anticipation of coming adventure. For him, it almost rivaled the spark of joy that came with pushing a ship off to head for the open ocean. It was chasing that feeling that drew him to raid, not wealth or reputation though those were positive consequences of successful raids.

Wessex, if they could conquer it, would be a jewel. Kåre even allowed himself to entertain the idea of bringing Igna, Ama, and his younger sister there when it was all over. They would love it. He smiled at the thought that by then, Tove would be with him and the elation his family would feel at seeing her alive again.

They reached the crest of a hill leading down into a small valley where a village came into view; there was a fair-sized hall, a few fine houses, and two sturdy barns. Their band came to a halt at the sight of it as Harald pulled his horse up alongside Kåre with Skade at his flank on her mare. Kåre found himself studying the witch instead of their leader just then. She gazed into the valley with bright, somewhat wild eyes and her hair seemed to stir in a breeze that blew entirely for her as he felt no wind. Skade was striking in her looks, but she was also brash and imprudent. He could see in her eyes that Skade wanted the village.

“Do we move on?” Kåre asked Harald.

Harald considered him as he looked out at the valley. The day’s first light was only just beginning to break over the horizon, so they could not be seen by the inhabitants down below. It was an opportune time to attack. There had been word though of a larger settlement not far where they may find more plunder than this small collection of houses might offer.

It was not Harald who spoke though it was Skade. “We must attack.”

Kåre turned to fix her with an incredulous stare, but Skade wasn’t looking at him. She stared at Harald with a rapt intensity as she urged him to attack. He kept his gaze on the valley for a beat more before focusing on Skade.

“They’ll never see us coming. Bloodhair, we must.”

“And why must we? Have we not a greater goal?” Kåre questioned evenly when Harald said nothing.

Skade’s eyes snapped to him in an instant, flickering with undisguised spite.

“Do you fear Saxons, Ødgerson?” She hissed.

Kåre resisted the urge to rise to her goading, keeping a neutral expression. Skade did not do much to evoke the Jarl’s logical mind, but he trusted Harald could be persuaded to see reason so long as he kept a cool head. She narrowed her eyes at him as if she knew what he was doing, but then Harald finally spoke.

“You may take your guard and two crews. It is a small village that should be enough?”

“You will not join me, my Lord?” Skade asked, sounding somewhat irritated.

Harald’s look was mollifying. “I will send for you before any battle is fought.”

His words seemed to calm her some, but Skade still eyed Kåre from her periphery. “You will.”

Bloodhair raised a hand to call for her guard. Her guard and the selected crews formed up and were off before the sun fully rose over the horizon, thundering down into the valley at speed. Harald dawdled on the hill for a short time to observe as Skade and her forces reached the village and began the raid. The witch’s howling war cry could be heard if faintly even from their position. When he was satisfied, Harald turned to Kåre and gave a nod indicating they should move out without further delay.

Early afternoon of the following day, they came upon the larger town a ways north of where Skade had decided to raid. After riding hard for days without much rest, their supplies were beginning to run low, and they needed whatever fresh horses they could find. So upon sighting it, Harald ordered the attack and they descended on the settlement blades drawn.

They hadn’t even reached the town when people started running from their houses. Some ran directly for the woods or straight across fields, but many young and old men appeared carrying iron clubs, axes, or other farm equipment. They were not experienced warriors, though, like the Danes who were flooding the town. Most of them were slaughtered.

A man not much older than sixteen came from his house with a scream of rage going directly for Kåre as he rode up. He might have felt a sliver of remorse for killing the boy who had such a fire in his eyes except for the fact he did not attack Kåre himself, but his horse. The youth carried a scythe which he swung wildly at Kåre’s mount as he approached, catching the beast in its hindquarter. It faltered mid-step, leaving Kåre no choice but to leap from the horse’s back to avoid being crushed when it fell. Then the boy charged him, flecks of spittle flying as he screamed. Protecting himself with his sturdy Lindenwood shield, Kåre braced as the scythe crashed against its boards.

Unfortunately for the boy, the scythe’s blade stuck in the wood, allowing Kåre to swing the shield hard to the side, tearing the weapon from his hands. Kåre dropped the shield having no further use for it in its current state. When he rounded on the boy, there was fear in his eyes as they darted around searching for an escape, but there was none. Mercifully, Kåre ended his life with a single stroke of his sword that sprayed him with blood. The boy hit the ground with a thud and was dead shortly after. 

By that time, Harald stormed the hall dragging an elegantly dressed man from inside by his hair. He was whimpering unintelligibly. Kåre’s lip curled with distaste as he approached the scene. The man who could only be the Lord of the town had stopped sniveling when he reached them, but Kåre did not understand the English words. He was spluttering at Harald.

“Please. P-please don’t kill me. I have silver. I.. I’ll give it to you. J-just don’t kill me.”

“Who are you?” Harald asked, speaking in the language of his captive.

“I am Dreogan.” The man said.

Harald nodded, looking quite bored with the man. “Dreogan. Do you have much silver?”

“I-I am the thegn in this town.” Dreogan stuttered. “Though we are richer in grain than silver.”

“Where is the silver?” Demanded Harald.

Tears were running down the thegn’s face. “It is buried, Lord. I-in the barn. Please. There is no need to kill anyone else.”

Ignoring the latter half of Dreogan’s words, Harald turned to a few of those who had gathered to watch and addressed them in Danish. “He says the silver is buried in the barn. Fetch it.”

With that, he dragged Dreogan back inside the hall, Kåre and some others followed behind. The fighting was over. All the town’s inhabitants having either fled or been killed by the raiders, leaving them with free reign.

While they waited for the silver to be found, Harald and his men helped themselves to Dreogan’s stores. It turned out he had been telling the truth about his town being rich in grain as there was plenty of bread and ale to go around. However, after several hours of digging in the barn, no silver was recovered. Harald had questioned the thegn again less calmly than he had at first, but when he gave no answer save sobbing for his life, the Dane had enough. Men were then instructed to search the village for whatever they could find; Dreogan’s throat was slit, and his body tossed from the hall.

Soon after, Harald summoned Kåre to his side at the head of the table. The blonde Dane pulled up a chair next to Harald, who offered him a cup nearly overflowing with ale. Kåre took it graciously before querying what it was Harald required.

“Will you take some men to fetch Skade?” Harald asked. “She has had enough time in that backwater. I want her at my side.”

“And I suppose we are to return here,” Kåre replied.

“Yes, we’ll move on from here. You’ve heard the reports -the Saxon army has retreated to one of their walled towns.”

“Winchester?” Kåre asked.

Harald shook his head. “No. I do not know the name of the place. It does not matter. Scouts have sighted them heading east. We raid until they have starved.”

Kåre felt a little dubious of the plan. If the Saxons’ had their army at this other town, why should they not simply attack Winchester? He had heard of its substantial stone walls, but if the army was not there, that would mean fewer men to defend those walls. It was possible that they might breach the walls and raid the city before Alfred could send reinforcements. They did not need to hold the city; just use it to draw out the King to where he could be killed in battle and Wessex would fall.

Perhaps either plan could work, though, so Kåre did not argue the point. Instead, he requested a few hours rest for his men before they set out, which Harald agreed to. Their business concluded, Kåre informed his crews of their mission before taking some rest himself. With their smaller force, he might be able to reach Skade’s town by mid-afternoon if they rode hard through the night.

It was several hours past noon when Kåre reached the hillcrest where they first spied the village, but he halted his men at the sight of it. Something was wrong. Horses grazed in a paddock, charred-out buildings no longer smoldered, but the place appeared deserted. It might not have been cause for alarm to find the site so abandoned if it were not for the great banner of a wolf’s head blowing in the wind.

They proceeded a little further down the hill with more caution. He felt reasonably sure none who rode with Harald bore such a banner. His assumption proved correct when he called for a man in their company who knew those lands better. The man told him it was the banner of Uhtred, the Dane-slayer. Kåre tightened the grip of his reigns reflexively at the name and his blood ran hot. He could not help wondering if Tove was with him or whether she was being kept prisoner somewhere. Kåre spat on the ground in his anger as if doing so could rid him of the offending emotion. It would do him no good here because from what he’d heard, Uhtred was smart.

When they had almost reached the town, a cry called out from the vanguard, alerting them to a presence at the other end of the valley. Abandoning the ruins, they advanced towards the emerging line of warriors. Even at a distance, Kåre was able to spot Skade standing barefoot with a rope around her neck beside a Lord dressed in Danish style who sat astride a large warhorse. His heart sank.

���Lord,” whispered the man to his left. “It is the Lady Skade…”

Kåre threw the man a dark look and he said nothing further. No one moved as Uhtred and a bearded man brought their stallions down a portion of the way down the hill, with Skade between them being led by the rope. Upon closer inspection, she had been stripped not only of her boots but her mail coat, leather jerkin, and all she possessed. The only things Skade wore were a pair of linen breeches and a thin tunic. When they stopped, Uhtred passed the rope to the bearded man before continuing the descent until he was within earshot of them.

“Tell me who leads you?” He called.

Kåre did not react. Uhtred had the high ground, their forces were near evenly matched in numbers, and there had been no recent rain that might have caused them to slide or trip. If he were to act impulsively and attack, it was a near certainty he and his men would be slaughtered. That aside, Kåre did not think Uhtred wanted a fight. The Saxon was showing them he had Skade, that he had stripped her of her armor and that she was at his mercy. The Dane-slayer wanted to insult them.

A voice in the back of his mind spoke unbidden as he looked at Skade’s state of vulnerability. Had Tove been treated in such a manner? Paraded about on a leash for the amusement of Uhtred’s men? Righteous anger rose in his chest at the thought of it. He did his best to push it down, knowing there was nothing he could do for Tove at that moment; Kåre kicked his horse a few paces forward.

“I do.” He spat.

“And who are you?”

“Kåre Ødgerson.”

The distance such that it was difficult to tell, but Kåre imagined by the silence following his declaration Uhtred was surprised though if he was, his response did not betray it.

“You will go. Go and tell Harald Bloodhair that Uhtred of Bebbanburg made a great slaughter of his men. You will tell him Uhtred has his whore. Tell him I have her, and I’ll use her for my amusement. Go!”

He had no time to make a response before Uhtred turned his horse and rode back to where Skade and his man waited. Kåre watched Uhtred take the rope and exchange a few words with her. A few of his men broke their line to ride just close enough to see Skade clearly, but Kåre did not need a closer look. The defiant lift of her chin before Uhtred maneuvered his stallion in front of her blocking his view, was enough to confirm it -even as a prisoner, she was brash. Kåre waited until Uhtred’s men disappeared from the hill crest to leave on the chance he changed his mind about attacking, but once they had gone, he called for a scout to follow them at a distance. Then they rode.

Finan looked at Uhtred quizzically. Debasing Skade as he had was not in Uhtred’s character. So long as they’d known each other, Finan had never known his Lord to be unkind toward women. He couldn’t help glancing back at the woman now appropriately dressed in her boots and jerkin to cover the near sheer tunic underneath.

“Why did ya do it, Lord?” Finan asked.

Uhtred also looked over his shoulder briefly at Skade. “I wanted him angry.”

“Angry enough to do something stupid,” Finan said.

Uhtred nodded. “Haesten says he is impulsive.”

Uhtred and the rest of the fighters had only been gone a week, and already Tove was starting to feel useless. She spent the days guarding Gisela and her three children. Cerdic and Rypere were usually on shift with her during that time while three others stood outside the house at night. In the evening, she would retreat to the training yard to practice what drills she could by herself before returning. Gisela had made good on her promise to have Tove stay with them at the house, and she slept in Stiorra's room while the girl stayed with her mother. It was an informal arrangement, but Tove longed to go on patrol because then she would feel like she was doing something though she did not voice her complaint. Gisela was her dearest friend, aside from Finan, and being in her company was no chore, but the guilt at being stagnant was there. At the time of her friends' departure, she'd told herself it would be okay, that she would be plenty distracted. But it was not always so.

One reprieve Tove quickly came to count on was the children who'd become fond of her over the years. Stiorra especially enjoyed toting her along on her childish adventures. Meanwhile, Obsert, the youngest, was especially keen to follow Tove wherever she went. So both were overjoyed to find her only duty at present was to guard them and therefore took full advantage of the situation.

It was not long after the afternoon meal that Tove found herself sitting on the dusty ground out front of Lord Uhtred's house. Stiorra was practicing braids in her hair while she played a simple game of marbles with Osbert. The child was about three summers in age then and had recently taken a fascination with the game. While his two elder siblings were worn out with the game, Tove did not mind it. Nor did she mind allowing the boy to win on occasion as his squeals of joy at having beaten her were reward enough. 

"Father says we shouldn't let him win," said Stiorra seriously as she watched Tove purposefully miss with her marble for the third time in a row.

Quirking a brow, the blond Dane turned slightly, her expression a picture of innocence.  "I haven't the slightest idea what you're referring to, my Lady. Young Osbert is simply talented." Tove turned back to smile at the boy. "Aren't you?"

Osbert giggled as he shot his marble.

Stiorra frowned. "And I don't like it when you call me Lady."

"You're a Lady, aren't you?" Tove asked; her tone was light as she pretended to focus on her next move in their game.

Sighing dramatically, the girl tugged at Tove's braid. "So are you."

Tove scoffed. "I am no such thing."

"Your family own land!" Stiorra argued. "Back in Denmark."

Suppressing a sigh of exasperation, Tove gave a slight shake of her head. The girl was a sneaky one, often listening in on the adults when nobody was looking. There was little doubt in her mind Stiorra must have been doing precisely that when she'd spoken to Gisela of her family. Still, she wished the girl was a little more sly with her knowledge, but she would learn.

"Tell me about Denmark?" Stiorra pressed, causing Tove to actually miss when it was her turn with the marble.

"Denmark? Hasn't your mother told you of Denmark?" Tove asked.

Stiorra snorted. "Only that it is cold and wet and not at all like here."

"Well...that is all true. And this land is beautiful. That is why-"

Stiorra cut her off. "-The Danes covet it so very much.

A deep masculine laugh followed Stiorra's proclamation, which caused all three to look for its owner. Tove was the first to spy Rypere sauntering toward them at a leisurely pace. He looked tired, almost as if he hadn't slept since he'd come off shift when the sun rose that morning. Puzzled, Tove furrowed her brow.

"But we know they will never take it," Rypere joked as he knelt down next to them, ruffling Obsert's hair.

"Rypere, shouldn't you be resting?" Tove asked.

Stiorra looked between the two of them thoughtfully but said nothing, suddenly very interested in braiding Tove's hair once more.

Rypere smiled hopefully at her, and Tove felt a strange tug at her heart at the sight of it.

"I'd hoped I could borrow you for a short while? If the Lord and Lady are agreeable?" The latter half of his question was directed at Stiorra and Osbert.

Osbert gave a cry of dismay at the idea of his time with Tove being interrupted. The boy quickly scrambled over to wrap his arms around her neck and snuggle against her chest. Over her shoulder, Tove glanced at Stiorra, who dutifully pretended she was not paying attention until she'd been addressed. At that moment, Tove was unsure of whether she hoped Stiorra too would throw a fit despite knowing the girl was not often prone to them. She and Rypere had not spoken privately since her rejection to join them at the tavern. So it was tricky to say what he might wish to talk with her about.

"It is Osbert's nap time. I'm sure mother won't mind Miss Tove," Stiorra said.

"That's great," Rypere said with a slight exhale of relief.

Tove cleared her throat slightly as Stiorra let go of Tove's hair and held her arms out for her brother. The Dane thought she spied a hidden smile on the girl's lips as she detached her brother. Osbert was sniffling loudly and whining that he was not tired, which of course, did not help his case.

"Tell your mother I won't be gone too long."

Stiorra nodded, taking Osbert's hand and they disappeared into the house shortly, leaving Tove alone with Rypere. His sudden appearance confused her. After that night, the Saxon had kept his distance for the most part, but she hadn't deluded herself into thinking he didn't still watch her from afar. However, with his distance, Tove figured he might have moved on or accepted their friendly acquaintanceship as it was. The way he looked at her now, though, told Tove that was not the case at all.

"Is something wrong, Rypere?" Tove asked. "Did something happen on the night watch?"

His eyebrows shot up briefly, seemingly without his permission, but he recovered himself. "No. No, of course not. I just-" He paused, fiddling with something in his pocket. "Well, I noticed that um, you wear those-" Rypere gestured to the rune hanging about her neck. "And I saw this in the market. I thought you might like it."

Tove said nothing as he hesitantly pulled a small stone from his pocket, extending it tentatively toward her. Momentarily shocked, Tove stared at the rune in bewilderment.

"Do you know what it means?"

Rypere hesitated again, awkwardly still holding the rune out for Tove to take. Suddenly he looked quite concerned.  "No...I don't. It's not bad, is it?"

After a moment of further inspection, Tove chuckled. "No, it is not. Though, I would argue it may do you more good than I."

Mercifully, Tove took the rune from his hand and ran her thumb over the carving.

"What's it mean?" he asked.

"Svefnthorn, sleep thorn," she said; still half smiling. "You put it under your pillow for a restful night's sleep. It appears the merchant who sold you this thought you looked rather tired."

The smile appeared to melt off Rypere's lips at her words. He'd asked for something romantic when he'd gone to the market that morning. And the bastard had given him this? Anger shot through him, but it only showed in the form of a downward turn of his lips. Just as he was considering going back to have a few words with the merchant, Tove interrupted.

"Not that..." She paused, collecting her thoughts before starting again. "Not that I am not grateful for the thought. But why would you buy me this? A gift, I mean."

Tove feared she had sounded rather unkind in her questioning for the few moments that passed following her words, but then Rypere spoke.

"Well, I had thought..." He inhaled sharply as if steeling himself. "With the others away -with him away- that we might get to know each other better?"

She furrowed her brow. "With who away?"

Rypere's slight frown deepened. For a second he doubted, Kenward's assumptions about the nature of her and Finan's relationship, but then his friend's words echoed again in his mind. But has he? It's been weeks.

"Finan," Rypere said.

"Finan?" Tove was startled.

Mollified, Rypere murmured, "Well, I had thought..."

She frowned.

"I just mean you're close."

The words caused a hitch in Tove's stomach reminiscent of what she'd felt earlier at the sight of Rypere's hopeful smile. It wasn't him that was causing it, though. Finan, she'd immediately thought of him when she'd seen that smile, but why? And why was Rypere so concerned about her relationship with him. It made her irrationally irritated.

"Yes, we are. And you and I are not." Tove stated flatly.

Rypere opened his mouth as if to speak but quickly shut it. After a few seconds, he attempted again before again sealing his lips but this time in a frown. She felt a pang of regret. It hadn't been her intent to be harsh with him, but the strange feeling in her gut was becoming familiar, and it bothered her. The same feeling she'd had when she realized Finan was not alone in his room the morning of his departure, her subconscious noted.

"I need to go," Tove blurted out.

And she took off before Rypere could even attempt to reply.

The last time she'd sprinted away from a problem like in this manner flashed before Tove's eyes as she ran. With each pounding beat of her feet against the packed Earth, a new image appeared, causing tears to form in her eyes that she struggled to hold back. 

Her father's broken expression -step. Kåre's wail of despair -step. The novel sensation of fat wet tears rolling down her cheeks -step. The odd inability to hear -step. Turning without thought -step. Running toward to beach, desperate to reach what, she didn't know -step. A rush of icy water soaking through her boots -step. Wading into that water chest deep and sliding beneath -step. Screaming beneath the water so no one would hear -step. And the incredible crushing pain of grief, knowing her mother wouldn't be coming home.

Except, now there was no pain. Reaching the Thames banks, Tove finally felt a sense of calm as she came to a halt. The pressing tug somewhere inside coming from her stomach or her heart, she couldn't be sure, was still present. Inhaling deeply, Tove bent down to tug off her boots and roll up her trousers before wading calf-deep into the rushing waters. It was an immediate balm for the tumult of emotions raging inside.

Irritation at Rypere for being so persistent. Worry for her friends, who she had no way of aiding. Anger at herself for doubting their skills. Guilt for the hope that her countrymen would be swiftly dispatched. Fear that one of her friends might not make it back to Lundene and that fear was tainted by a shame that while she feared for them all, there was one that crossed her mind more than the others -Finan.

That was something Tove kept pushed down only to be thought of in the late hours of the night when sleep alluded her. It was easier to distract herself from it during the day, but Rypere's questions had disturbed the balance. Yet, with the imminent danger they all still face, she couldn't bring herself to properly examine those feelings -not until she knew he was safe. So, Tove allowed herself that moment of peace there on the murky bank, not having realized until then how much she'd needed it.

Also, I've been thinking. Would you rather, I write up a few chapters at a time so that they can be posted more regularly? The alternative, is sort of the way I've been doing it which is cranking out several chapters at a time when I have inspiration. Thanks for your input as well as for your readership Also what did you think of Uhtred and Kåre's brief meeting??

taglist: @obipoelover, @iwillboilyourteeth, @lauwrite1225, @queen-manning, @for-bebbanburg, @bells3333, @othermoony, @emily456 , @red-roses-are-gonna-shine​

[clvmtines]

welcome aboard, clementine martinez, student #2. we are excited to set sail with you !  has anyone told you that you look like alexa demie? according to our records, you hail from florida, usa, prefer she / her pronouns, are a cis woman, and are here to study creative writing. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your online lottery win — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were + charming, + free-spirited, but also - restive. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the billiards room. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed a casino chip carried around for luck from home. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

hi friends! i’m very excited to be here. i’m jay (est, she/her) n i used to play astrid nyland a few months ago if anyone remembers bt i had to leave for personal reasons. i’m so glad to be back now that i hve life sorted and some free time for summer break <3 read on for some details abt this new muse of mine, clementine. 

01. biography !

so ! clementine was born in florida. & yes, her real name is clementine. her mom thot it was the cutest name idea ever. clementine mostly goes by clem. she comes from the town [redacted] in florida bcoz i am too lazy to look up a specific town <3 but alas ! it was swampy and humid and she lived in a trailer park. 

her parents got knocked up at nineteen. clem was born nine months after a particularly wild 1999 fourth of july. her birthday is march 26th and she’s an aries. 

(TW: addiction, child injury) clem’s dad was a gambling addict and petty criminal—he wld steal credit cards n whatnot. he wld gamble away diaper money n it would cause constant fighting until her dad finally left. her mom took this very hard n began drinking a bit too often, leaving clem to to make cereal for dinner n fend for herself. once clem tried to make hot dogs on the stove and spilled boiling water on herself. got a p bad burn on her arm/shoulder and still has a big scar.

the soundtrack of her childhood was cicadas buzzing and stray dogs barking. the sizzle and pop of natty light cans. turning up her ipod to max volume to drown out the sounds of her mother fighting with her new boyfriend.

throughout her upbringing, clem’s dad was always in and out of the picture. he’d blow into town when he hit it big. he’d take her on these little “adventures” like staying in a motel 6 n renting movies at block buster n ordering good pizza nt the dominos shit she ate with her mom lol. ofc he was charging it all to someone’s stolen credit card. he’d always promise to, like, take clem away. n clem was a daddy’s girl so she believed him. the last time it happened was her h.s. graduation. her mom didn’t show ( "overslept” after a bender ) but her dad did and surprised her n said everything wld be different. bt then he bailed on their plans for the next day n when she called his cell, the number was disconnected. tht was the defining “i’m done” moment. clem promised to never be disappointed by her father again.

(TW: racism) her mother has mexican ancestry and clem’s always been called her twin. but clem was raised in a predominately white area and honestly ?? it was really hard without her even realizing it. she’s still unpacking a lot of things today abt her youth that jst weren’t okay bt she thought were normal. like microaggressions, stereotypes, being fetishized by boys in high school. gross shit.

as a kid, clem was rumored to be really poor bc she wore tattered clothes n got free lunch at school. once she invited a friend to her house & the next day they told everyone it’s in a trailer park. that reputation—the “trailer park girl”—was really hard to shake. and clem got almost desperate to shake it. she was endlessly trying to set her old self on fire and emerge from the ashes like a phoenix.

eventually clem became more “popular”. in school she was, like, a straight b student. very average although super creative and quick-thinking. she always had street smarts. problem solving skills. independence. more of, like, practical intelligence as opposed to book smarts because academia bores her tbh. she was like why am i reading these overrated boring books by dead white men or learning abt polynomials when i know nothing abt how to pay a mortage or do taxes. like...she saw the american education system as bullshit and put in modest effort because she didn’t believe it deserved her sweat and tears. 

however, she entered the online lottery for the seas program on a whim and got in. so she’s studying creative writing now.

02. personality !

first thing you shld know abt clem is that she’s a compulsive liar essentially—she tells various stories to make her life seem better than what it was. to one person, she’s an heiress to a real estate company and grew up wealthy. to the next she was raised by nomadic hippies. some of her lies are small fibs while others are grandiose tales. she rarely talks about her actual upbringing. she hates talking abt her family or the v real trauma of growing up in a household where both parents struggled w/ addiction; the uncertainty, the broken promises, the fact that she had to grow up so soon and deal w/ so much. it wasn’t fair, and if she thinks about it too much, she feels this anger. anger at the universe. anger at her circumstances. she doesn’t know where to put this anger. she doesn’t know how to shrink it. so she avoids it.

despite her rough upbringing, though, clem is actually really sweet and kind. she’s adventurous, fun-loving, free-spirited, and bold. 

bt ! she can also be closed-off, competitive and restive. 

she’s seemingly tight with everyone? like she’s jst that girl who can get along with anyone tbh. 

in her spare time you can catch her tanning by the pool, hanging at the bar, playing pool ( which she learned from her dad ), and socializing. she’ll never say no to hanging out with people. 

she learned a lot from her little “adventures” with her dad, who was very good at conning others and often involved her in his dumb little scams. clem is suuuper good at pulling the ‘im baby 🥺’ card to get what she wants.

she can be a little selfish, because she grew up looking out for herself. 

stubborn and dogmatic as hell !!!

she doesn’t do too many relationships but when she does fall, i imagine she falls hard and fast. she refuses to be made a fool of, tho. when she gets vulnerable she flashes back to being a kid, waiting all day for her dad to show up only to have him bail on her. again. she hates that feeling. so if she, like, senses a shift in someone’s energy she’ll b like, “i’ll break up with u before u can do it to me” and the person wasn’t even tryna dump her lmao.

has a lot of sex. too much ?? sex?? mayb. but she’s v sex positive.

her personal style is v late 90s. hair clips, big scrunchies, neon, fur trim, crop and tube tops, hoop earrings, chokers, patterns, platform shoes, biodegradable glitter cuz it’s good fr the earth *winks*. clothes from o-mighty.......actually jst google o mighty, pull up the images and That is clem. she dresses like a bratz doll. she’s dedicated to the aesthetic.

03. headcanons !

her item brought from home is a hot pink poker chip from a casino. her dad gave it to her. he said it reminded him of her because of the color; he got it during one of his winning streaks and said it was lucky. she has a complicated relationship w/ her dad n doesn’t even speak to him anymore, bt she will never go anywhere without it.

she’s a smol bean—only 5′4

an astrology girl and she reads palms ! she absolutely makes astrology tik toks that people only watch because she’s hot. her flirting technique is to ask you to read your palm.

she doesn’t typically drink to get drunk. but she does love a good sugary cocktail. to her, a drink is like an accessory. a blue fishbowl by the pool, a jack and coke as she stands around a bar. usually she'll nurse the same beverage for a while. if you see her wasted it usually means she’s going thru it emotionally lol. the one thing she does do is drugs tho 

pretty much listens to exclusively female artists.

a bit of an activist. environmentalism, feminism and the like, she’s v outspoken. vegan for ethical reasons (TW: drugs) bt still does cocaine. she wears shirts with ‘my pussy my choice’ bedazzled on the front.

loves to rollerblade ! back home she didn’t have a car so she’d bike or rollerblade. now she still has her blades and she’ll use them when the ship docks. 

03. wanted connections !

Friends, bffs, ride or dies, friends who are like siblings to her, maybe a friend with an unrequited crush on either side ??

an ex she dumped/cheated on/otherwise self sabotaged their relationship because she was afraid of vulnerability.

an ex friend who realized she lies a lot abt herself n felt betrayed. OH ! ESP if they opened up to her on many occasions abt intimate, personal stuff. imagine the betrayal they felt when they found that everything they thought they knew abt clem is a lie.

someone who she actually opens up to. a confidant. or, maybe, like, a stranger she drunkenly spilled her soul to and now she avoids them like the plague.

a rival. clem can be competitive.

her drug dealer 

someone she knows she shouldn’t hook up with and… does it anyways. like a friend’s ex or smthing. spicy <3

i welcome anything !

[joshslater]

Pink Drink Twink

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“Compliments from the gentleman in the corner” said the bartender as he placed the girliest of cocktails in front of me. A martini glass with a pinkish liquid, and a bright neon pink cherry on a stem in the middle. I looked up at Matt, who faced the right direction and saw his quizzical look turn into disgust. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s that fucking leather fag again. He’s still trying to score, even after what you told him” To say I rejected him was an understatement. Luckily freedom of speech trumps hate crime laws. Matt was just about to pour out the drink on the floor, when I stopped him.

“Hey, he’s not the one who has to clean it up.” Matt held the glass still for a few moments before setting it down next to our beers. “It’s harassment, that’s what it fucking is.” “Good luck convincing someone that handing out cocktails is harassing someone. In fact...” I said, picking out the cherry, dumping it in one empty beer glass, then pouring the liquid into another “...it is now acceptable free booze.” “Well, I’m not touching it.” “You are not pretty enough to have burly men buying you drinks.” “Thank fuck for that.”

It didn’t taste that special. Sweet raspberry with too low ABV to be interesting. But easily flushed down with another beer before we split. Matt had work in the morning, the plight of manual labor, but I had all weekend off. Despite our different trajectories after we graduated, we still enjoyed each other’s company. He was a dumbass, but made friends instantly with everyone, and I made heavy use of his truck.

It was such a surprise to wake up early Saturday morning. Sure, we didn’t drink heavily, but I was normally tapping my way through snoozes in my phone’s alarm. Now I woke up earlier than that, without even setting one. I could only pretend to be annoyed though, because I felt better than in weeks. Fully rested and full of energy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, so I got up and got dressed. I made a mental note to be more consistent with my gym times. I looked much leaner than I recalled, but then those things hava a tendency to sneak up on you until you realize something needs to be done. Then I went to the mirror.

The pink hair is the most striking, of course, but to me the eyes are what makes the most impact. I have trouble comprehending what I see. Reflected back I see a version of myself that has been altered in far too many ways to count. It isn’t the brown-eyed, black-haired, chiseled ex-lacrosse player I was used to see, but someone with much more boyish features. My jawline is still pretty much there, but my nose is very different from what it used to be, and my eyes are greyish-blue with a sort of surprised or naive expression. What the fuck happened?

I let my fingers run through my pink tinged hair. It felt silky smooth, like I was an obsessive user of conditioner. It must be the pink cocktail. That’s the only thing out of the ordinary I could think of. What about Matt? I rushed to the phone and picked him from the phone history. It felt like an eternity as signal after signal went by.

“It’s Matt” “Thank fuck Matt, have you...” I stopped myself. I didn’t sound anything like I would usually sound like. I sounded like a teenager again. “Jeremy, is that you?” “Yeah. Is everything... normal?” “I would say so, yes. You sound really weird.” “I think I got something. Talk to you later.”

So some disgusting leather homo tries to pick me up at a bar. I turn him down. He hands me a potion or something that turns me into what exactly? What is his end game? It’s not like I would have sex with him, or any guy, just because I look like I’m in a boy band.

I’m confident I’m not just suddenly realizing I’m slimmer, but that too is due to the potion. I decide to not just chill all day as planned, but to go to the gym and see what the damage is. I figure I can wear a beanie to avoid looking like a weirdo.

Cardio is going great. I feel the positive energy from waking up pulsing through the body, and I’m going faster and for longer than I normally do on the treadmill. It’s like I woke up fully charged for the first time in months. As I move over to weights it turns sour quickly. I’m so much lower in weight than I normally do that it isn’t funny. I can barely do a few reps on what I would typically do 10-15 reps on. I drop to a lower weight, but now I’m tired instead and can barely do a few on the lower weight. I move between exercises, and it’s the same again and again. What’s worse is I’m getting an erection, perhaps from all the straining. It has never happened before. I give up on the set and head towards the locker room. I decided against taking a shower, not only because of my boner, but I realize I would have to take off my beanie. Instead I jog back home, which is feeling surprisingly good, all things considered.

Once back home go straight to the shower, rip off my gym clothes and throw them in a heap. I step into the shower and almost turn on the water before remembering to take off the beanie. I throw it on top of the pile, and let the water start running on my damp skin. Damn it feels good. It’s like everything is more sensitive today. My hard-on, that never really went away during the jog, perks up. I take plenty of soap and spend a good thirty minutes having the best wank in weeks, and end up pumping out liquid as if I was a soap dispenser myself. I’m so deep in trouble.

I’m struck by post wank clarity. All of this, even though parts of it is really fucking good, is because of that frilly drink. I must find that creep and confront him as soon as possible. Unfortunately it’s not even lunch yet, and there isn’t even a guarantee he would be at the bar tonight, or ever again. My plan of chilling and doing nothing for the day turns into anxiously doing nothing. I waste some time on unfocused gaming with terrible results. I’m not hungry, but eat a bowl of yogurt while browsing stuff I can’t remember 30 seconds later. Everything is just unbearable, so I put on my damp gym clothes again and leave for a run.

I’ve never been a big fan of running before. If this is another change forced upon me I’m actually kind of OK with it. It feels amazing to just ignore everything that is happening and just run at random. I don’t know for how long, but as I’m getting close to home again I start to sprint. I run as hard as I can, really giving it my all. It’s amazing. I’m soaked in sweat, panting deeply, and again have a throbbing erection. I don’t bother to reflect on any of it. I just pretend that everything is amazing, have an amazing shower with amazing soap and an amazing wank.

As I dry off myself my phone begins to ring. I know right away from the bathroom that it is Matt calling. Long ago I gave him the Nokia ringtone on my iPhone, which at some point was hilarious.

“Hi Matt” I shock myself with my voice. It has shifted even more since this morning, and now sounds like an obnoxious brat. “Hey, I just came off. Are you OK? You still sound different.” “I’m not really feeling like myself. It’s probably best if I stay in tonight.” “OK. I have some Netflix to catch up on. Get well. Target at ten tomorrow?” “Yeah, sure. Bye.”

I walk over to a mirror. I don’t look that different from this morning, do I? What if this wasn’t a change, but a process that has just begun? That I am slowly turning into someone else. Or something else. I look at the time on the phone. Still hours until the bar opened, so plenty of time to go crazy while thinking of this.

We had been at the bar much later yesterday, but I can’t risk missing him if he is early today, and I can’t stand sitting at home anyways. I dress simply, a white T-shirt and skinny jeans, and head over to the bar only half an hour after they opened. The bouncer takes forever to check my ID before letting me in. He is not here, but then so is no one else. Besides me and the staff there are only a handful of people. I tell the bartender that I’m looking for someone and might be here a while, order a diet coke, and grab a table by the wall from which I can see the entrance.

Three hours, two daiquiris and three diet cokes later I’m utterly bored. It’s only a quarter past eight, and so much more evening left, but I feel restless and tired at the same time. We didn’t arrive until well past nine, and the place doesn’t close until two. At what point do I give up?

Just as I’m thinking that I see him. The balding man in his forties, in black leather boots, black jeans and black leather jacket. I don’t like him. It looks so fake, the leather outfit he wears. Like he is pretending to be a gay tough guy from 1980. I quickly empty the last of my drink and start approaching him before he orders anything or grabs a seat. When his gaze catches me moving his way, his face turns smug and confident.

“Hi there, puppy. Looking for daddy” “Make it go back!” “Make what now?” “You did this to me, now undo it.” “I have no idea what you are talking about, puppy, or who you are” “You were hitting on me yesterday” “I hit on a lot of puppies, but I sure would have remembered you.” “You bought me a pink drink.” “You? YOU?! Well, I knew there was something to you. Have you changed your mind?” “What did you put in the drink?” His expression change completely. “I don’t know what you’re raving about. I never touched it. Is this a date rape accusation, because if it is you’ll have to talk to my lawyer. There is video recording in here after all.” “It’s... No, it’s not.” “If you excuse me, I think I’ve had enough of you.”

What did I expect? That he kicked his boot heels together and transformed me back? Did I really not have a better plan? If this really was his doing, he probably would have been prepared for this confrontation. Ready to take advantage of me. But he looked as surprised with my transformation as I was.

I walk back home, feeling dejected, disappointed and lost. What would I do next? Is there anything I can do? Another wank for sure, because I start to get that feeling and my skinny jeans aren’t doing me any favors. With some difficulty I do my best to get out of them as quickly as possible once inside the door. I go straight to my bed, lie down and start jacking off. I’m not even thinking about something in particular. Despite only having had two drinks I’m feeling a bit tipsy, in a good way. Like my body is glowing, and lying on my bed, wearing only a T-shirt and socks, jacking off, is the most amazing thing I could do with my life. It takes like forever until I shoot my load all over the front of my T-shirt, and once I’ve done that I continue to stroke myself until I drift off into sleep.

The Nokia ring tone coming from my front door wakes me up. I’m not tired, but somewhat confused as you are when woken in the wrong part of the sleep cycle, so I’m jumping out of bed almost involuntary. There is an uncomfortable tug as my body shifts and pulls the T-shirt glued by dried cum away from my torso. In the hallway lies a pair of skinny jeans playing the Nokia ringtone. In a pocket somewhere Matt is calling. I feel my way to the phone and answer.

“Hi Matt” My voice hasn’t changed much. I still sound like an arrogant teenager on an online game voice chat. “Hey dude. I’ll be perhaps ten minutes late. See you in half an hour.” “Yeah. No, wait!”

He has already hanged up. As I turn and look into the hallway mirror I’m stunned. The change from yesterday is even greater than from the day before. My hair has turned cotton candy pink and all my facial features have softened even more. I look at least five years younger, and my eyes have turned into proper blue. No one who knew me would recognize me anymore. I wouldn’t. My ID is worthless, and no fake ID would ever get me into a bar. What the fuck is going on. Am I shorter? I think I might actually be shorter than yesterday.

Normally on Sundays Matt and I go grocery shopping at Target in his pickup. I don’t want him to see me like this, but I need someone to help me figure out what is going on. I look at the phone again. I’ve already wasted four minutes. I need to shower and get dressed before he arrives. I rush into the bathroom, undress and get into the shower.

It’s like time stops when I turn on the water. The warm water makes my entire body tingle. My skin looks perfect and glistens wet in the bathroom light. I can’t see a single spot or blemish, though I know I had plenty. Not a single hair, though I most definitely had that before, except for the small, tight bush of cotton candy pink pubes. The sensation is so fucking incredibly amazingly sensual I start rubbing my dick. Not a proper jerk off, just small circles of my palm against my dick. I know I’ve lost even more mass since yesterday, but it looks like I’ve lost body fat too, because you can see a faint washboard. At least there is still some muscle left. As amazing as this feels, I can’t really be upset about any of the changes. Not here and now. I’m aware I’m moaning. I sound like Cindy in pol.sci. first time I fucked her.

The doorbell brings clarity. Matt is here already? I turn off the water and jump out of the shower. While I’m frantically drying myself I look for something to wear. Strewn on the floor are funky gym clothes and a cum-stiff T-shirt. I grab the beach bag from under the sink and put on my swim trunks. The bell again. I rush over to the door and open it.

At the moment I see Matt on the other side I realize it could have been someone else. What a shock that would have been for of us. Now it was just a shock for Matt.

“Holy Shit!” “Yeah. I know...”

The contrast is extra painful seeing Matt in his chill Sunday outfit. Relaxed jeans, navy sweatshirt on his wide upper body, hiding his muscles, but at the same time signaling that they are definitely there. He’s a head taller than me. We used to be the same height, the same build, the same outfit. Holy shit indeed. I stand there with ruffled pink hair, naked except for swim trunks that barely hides a raging hard-on. He looks bewildered.

“Matt, you must help me.”

He doesn’t answer, but I can see his bulge grow in his jeans. For the first time since I can’t remember how long I feel vulnerable. I’m literally exposed, one piece of clothing away from naked. He is standing in front of the closed door, the only way out. If he chooses to do something, there is nothing I can do to stop him. He is so much taller than me now, stronger, wider. I know the muscles below that sweatshirt of his. We’ve worked out together, so I’ve seen his chest both doing exercises and later naked in the shower. My arm is moving up his abs to his pecs, under the T-shirt, below his sweatshirt. He is frozen in place as I rub myself against his groin.

“Dude, are you alright?” Matt asks me, and I realize what I’m doing. I take a step back. “I can’t help it. Ever since that fucking pink cocktail I’ve been...” I don’t know what to say. What isn’t obvious about my situation is unexplainable. I see Matt struggle with something, before blurting out. “Would you mind continue what you were doing?”

Tentatively I stick my hand under his shirt again and rub against his body. “But... Do you mind doing it?” he asks. I don’t, I realize. But do I mind that I don’t mind? This must be part of the transformation that is happening. But Matt isn’t any random person. “Not with you, I don’t.” “Thank fuck for that.” He says and looks relieved. “Why?” “I... Sooo last Friday I might have put something in your beer that might have something to do with this...” “YOU FUCKING WHAT?” I don’t know what shocks me most, Matt’s betrayal or that he was able to pull off something like this at all. “It sounded like a good prank. A few drops and you would act all... different.” “Why the fuck would you want that?” His eyes starts tearing up and his voice is almost a whisper. “Because I like you. A lot.”

I’m still standing with my hand against his chest and have no clue what to do next. Fucking dumbass Matt admitted to ruin my life, outed himself as gay and professed his love for me in like 5 seconds. At least I think that’s what just happened. I slowly shift into a hug, and he hugs me back. I’m angry, I feel pity, but most of all I’m still horny. Damn all this.

Suddenly Matt breaks free. “I’ll drink it too!” “What? No! Look at me.” “It’s only fair.”

I’m quickly weighing my options, and come to a decision.

“No. You did this, so I decide what is fair. You do whatever I tell you to do. You show up when I tell you to. And we’ll have sex in whatever way I tell you to.” “Wah... We’ll...” “You heard me. I’ve been so fucking horny all weekend from those ‘few drops’ I don’t care what I fuck anymore. I want you naked in my bed within 30 seconds” “It was more of a dash than drops.” “25 seconds”

[dennou-translations]

Tokushima Shinbun Interview with Yano Shougo

Interviewing Yano Shougo-san, who has starred for the first time in the topical anime “Given” and is originally from Tokushima. “I wanted to be an actor that would make people go, ‘I’m glad I entrusted the role to him’.”

Yano Shougo-san (30), who is from Tokushima and belongs to the troupe Super Eccentric Theater (SET), played a starring role for the first time as a voice actor in the anime “Given”, which aired from July to September on Fuji TV. “Given” is a heartrending story that centers itself around a romance between men from the same rock band. Having received high evaluations for his acting and singing voice, which portrayed with excellence the delicate emotions of the protagonist, Satou Mafuyu, Yano-san has told us about the feelings he put into the role and about his future goals.

Raw || Index || Ko-fi/PayPal ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

——Good job on your first starring. Please tell us again about your impressions from when you were entrusted with the leading role.

Thank you very much. Playing a leading role in an anime series was my goal for 2019, so when my manager contacted me saying that I had passed the audition, I was happy to the point of shedding tears, but at the same time, I was also relieved. I could not sleep a wink the day before the recording of episode one, and at any rate, I was nervous. On the recording day, I was thinking as I headed to the studio, “It’d be great if the recording were tomorrow”, but I got over it a little by the moment that I thought, “If this anxiety would continue until tomorrow, then it’s actually better for it to be today!” and I remember relaxing straight away at it

——Yano-san, your fragile voice was a perfect fit for Mafuyu. What did you keep in mind when performing him? Were there any points that differed greatly in comparison to the roles you have been playing until now?

Mafuyu has an extremely painful past, unable to move a single step from where he was, as he bore a huge wound. Still, he has proper thoughts and feelings of his own, as well as a stubborn side, and though he has a mild and introverted personality, I figured that he was someone who had a strong core.

Other than that, when I saw him playing basketball with his friends, smiling and earnestly absorbing himself completely in music, I had the impression that he was a “high school boy that you can find anywhere”. This was something I always cherished when performing.

I have played uke roles before, but this was the first one where so many of my lines were “...” (laughs).

——What parts of Mafuyu do you think you have in common, Yano-san, and what parts are the total opposite of you?

I think we are just a little bit alike in that we are greedy about the things we like, and we are unable to concentrate on anything else when there is something that we need to do our best in order to achieve. What I feel to be the opposite is that Mafuyu gives off the impression that he is a big shot in some way, even without speaking much, while I am talkative and shy (laughs).

——You were also in charge of singing the insert song and ending theme song.

I knew ever since the audition phase just how essential Mafuyu’s song was for the series, so rather than my being happy about singing, the pressure was much more prominent. As a matter of course, the frequency of my voice training soon increased, and learned the basics and techniques of singing as much as time allowed me to. When I was first told about the composition, I thought, “This song was made for Mafuyu’s sake”. That is exactly why, rather than the technique, I reflected about why and how Mafuyu would be singing those lyrics, as well as the emotions that would be overflowing from him, and I thought I should sing it with care, without sugarcoating it.

——What did you keep in mind when singing as Mafuyu?

The song that Mafuyu sings bears his definite resolve to face his past and live in the present, thus I believed that I had to make it into something like a love confession, so to say - a song that could be sung because Mafuyu was the one doing it. For this, of course, technique was important, but I kept in mind that it would be okay even if it was rough-hewn or even if my voice faltered, as long as I sang in a way that would spit out everything Mafuyu had been shouldering.

——Although Noitamina has produced countless master piece animes, this has been their first Boys Love (BL), a series that depicts romance between males, so was there anything you were particularly conscious of when performing?

There was not. Just as I do when performing roles from other series, I performed while keeping in mind that I was going to live in the world of “Given” as Mafuyu with all my might.

——I believe there was such a huge response to “Given” due to its painful content, but did it get to your ears?

There are many fans of the original work not only in Japan but also overseas, so I became aware once again of the popularity of “Given”. That is just how high the expectations were for the anime adaptation, and I wanted people to like it even more when watching the anime, so I was truly happy when I actually did get evaluations like that on Twitter, etc.

——The airing of the anime “Given” is over, but a movie adaptation was green-lit. Please leave a message for the fans.

The story of “Given” will continue from now on too. I hope everyone can watch over what kind of sounds will come from Mafuyu’s song, Given’s (as in the band that Mafuyu and the others formed in the show) music and their romance from now onward.

——From here on out, Yano-san, I want to ask you about yourself. It seems you wanted to be an announcer at first.

I had the vague desire to move into the television business, and from yet another vague motive of wanting to become an announcer and engage with my favorite variety show, I started thinking in my third year of high school that I wanted to be an announcer.

——Why did you aim for voice actor from there?

After graduating from high school, I took a gap year in order to attend university, and during that time, I watched “Neon Genesis Evangelion” as per a friend’s recommendation, so with this as the trigger, I became interested in anime. I had almost never watched anime until then and was unfamiliar with voice actors, so I was shocked when I read in the end roll that Ogata Megumi-san was the one who played the role of Ikari Shinji, a boy, thus I became interested in them.

——Was there anything you put effort into in order to become a voice actor?

During my gap year, I watched many animes, looked up the voice actors that piqued my curiosity and imitated their acting, and performed lines from anime and manga with as much emotion as I could. I also bought a training book for becoming a voice actor and practiced enunciation while keeping it a secret from my family.

——What are the details of your joining SET?

I was was part of a the theater research association in university, but when I was in my fourth year, I once gave up the way of an actor and went job hunting. Even so, I wanted to have a job that was related to acting, so I took the recruitment test of a major production company hoping to become a manager, but during the individual interview, the person in charge told me, “Are you really all right with giving up on becoming an actor? If you want to be a voice actor, then go study theatre”.

And so, I began wanting to challenge myself one more time, so I stopped job hunting and after looking into audition magazines, I took an audition to become a research student of SET, where I could learn the essentials for musical, action and comedic theatre. I became a research student at 23, and after about a year of lessons and a graduation performance, I became an official member at the age of 24.

——Please tell us about the works and roles you did before your voice actor debut.

During my first year in becoming a troupe member, I played the role of Saburou, the protagonist of the TV anime “Nobunaga Kyousoukyoku”, as a motion actor - the kind of actor who does the gestures that are used as base for the characters’ movements.

I also participated in the troupe’s own public performance. It was a role where I had to drink coffee and say only one phrase, “It’s sweet”. It was a sentence that connected with a funny punchline, so I had been thinking all along about how I should act it out in order to induce laughter, and even during the performance, I did many attempts.

——After that, you debuted as a voice actor in the anime “Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V”.

When I was selected, I was really happy to be able to take the voice acting job that I had once given up on. I was brimming with confidence for some reason, even though I had no experience points. But when I went to the studio, I was no good at all; I would get nervous every week and had to stay overtime a lot, so I honestly hated going to the studio (laughs). Even so, thanks to the director and all the co-stars not throwing away someone like me, who did not know left and right, and instead nurturing me during the three years of “Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V”, I changed my thinking and posture in regards of acting.

——Afterward, you became capable of being entrusted with important roles, such as in “iDOLM@STER SideM” and “Tsurune —Kazemai Koukou Kyuudoubu—“, but were there any parts of them where you could feel your own growth?

In that I started thinking it was fun to perform. Even now, I still get nervous when going on-site, but as I would read the script, think about the role and create a foundation for my acting, I feel like I have become able to perform in front of the mic by responding to the acting of the person playing the other role, without thinking about unnecessary things, little by little. The moment I feel that the air has set to motion and it has turned into a drama is, if nothing else, enjoyable. I started having challenges, aspirations and goals for myself, such as, “I want to perform like this more” or, “I could bring this role into life more if I performed like that”.

——What are the fun and difficult parts of voice acting? Please tell us about your future goals too.

I believe the fun in being a voice actor is that we can perform roles that would be difficult in filming or on a stage.

There are many things that you can only learn in a recording site. When I go to them, I find a whole lot of people who are better at acting than I am, so I have to earn a role for myself. I fail most of my auditions and get depressed each time. Even so, I want to keep showing up in those series and play a role that moves the story. I always strongly think that I want to become an actor who can make people go, “I want to use Yano for this” and, “I’m glad I entrusted this role to Yano”.

——From now on, between actor and voice actor, which one to you plan to put more strength into?

Voice actor. That being said, in order to broaden my ranges as an actor too, I think I have to take on all kinds of jobs that require technique for different facial expressions on-stage. For us voice actors, charming people are mostly those who are also charismatic on the stage, so I think I also want to become a charming actor.

——Are you able to return to Tokushima regularly even now?

I make sure to go back as often as I can during summer vacation and New Years.

——Are there any parts of your life in Tokushima that have been put to good use in your acting jobs?

I seldom have any chance to come in contact with anything related to acting in Tokushima. Even if I had interest in voice actors and acting, wanted to attend a training school or thought about going to watch a play, they were all things that could not come true if I stayed in Tokushima. That is why I created many opportunities to come in contact with acting after moving to Tokyo, such as joining my university’s theatre research association and attending a school where I could study voice acting. I think I could cultivate something like a hungry spirit exactly because I used to live in Tokushima.

——If there is anything or any place in Tokushima that you like, please tell us.

Awa Dance, I guess. I did not like it that much when I was little, but after I became an adult, the group dance I watched from a box seat was stunning, and it made me so emotional that I started crying.

Also, the park that my grandfather often took me to when I was a child, though I don’t know if it still exists. I would put rice balls and pickled horseradish in a big plastic container and go there. I have memories of eating them with cold tea from a polyethylene teapot with my grandfather, after playing badminton. I want to do the same with my children and grandchildren when I become a parent and a grandpa.

——Yano-san, since you have made your dream come true, please leave a message to the young people who are chasing their dreams in Tokushima.

Time passes in a flash. For now, please do what you can with all your might. It can be anything, like classes, club activities, cultural festivals, sports festivals or romance.

If there is anything you can work your hardest in over there, please try facing it with all you have. It will certainly become a sustenance for your life from this point onward. I believe that it is better to do something and regret it than to regret not having done it.

Should there be anyone aiming to become an actor, please take action while constantly thinking about how you can get closer to the future that you have as your goal. I think there are surely many things you can do even if you are in Tokushima.

If you do not know what you should do after doing a research and reflecting on it, have courage and go consult someone who can give advice. Nothing is in vain, but rather than spending time not thinking about anything, I believe that spending time thinking about whatever is more worthwhile.

Please do your best. I will do my best too.

——Please leave a message for the fans who are cheering for you from Tokushima.

Thank you so very much for supporting me. The other day, when I took part in a recital play being held in Tokushima, I was able to show my acting to my family for the first time. They were very pleased.

Most events are held in the Tokyo Metropolitan Area, so I believe that people cannot go watch them even if they want to. My wish for more and more people to experience an event in Tokushima and see me working has become even stronger.

I will be doing my best from now on too in order to be able to take part in more series, play all kinds of roles, get to do an event in Tokushima again someday and have people come talk to me. I will be counting with your continued support from this point onward too.

[alicesimblr]

PREFACE.

Southampton, 1887. 

⚠️ GRAPHIC VIOLENCE. I write all my stories in spanish so if my translation is not perfect please let me know and i’ll fix any issues.

The night had fallen in the cold city of Southampton, the taverns were closing and the people took shelter in their warm homes.

Alfred Windsor, engineer of the first functional metro in London was on his way home after one of his usual nights at the tavern, with flushed cheeks from wine and opium and blurred vision. Every night he would come home to wake up his two children and his wife because of his alcoholism, and he didn't seem to want to change that habit in the least. Yet there was something different about that night, something that haunted him.

That man had remained in the same position since Alfred arrived at the tavern, more than five hours had passed and his countenance was still on him, as if he were observing him. He did not look away or say a word. Alfred had come to think that this man was just a statue.

Directed to his home and with the strange feeling that this man was following him, Alfred started humming one of the most famous songs in the tavern trying to appease his growing fear and trying to think that it was just the paranoia that alcohol and opium used to create in him. After all, it wasn't the first time he had come home sweaty, screaming and claiming that a strange man was chasing him, yet nothing else ever happened. 

A few streets away, Alfred couldn't help but turn around to see that the man was indeed following him closely, so close that he could see his leather shoes out of the corner of his eye, so close that he could hear their incipient footsteps almost as if they were echoing in his head, like the hooves of a wild horse approaching. Still drunk and emboldened, Alfred turned on his heels and ceased his walk. He stopped short near a shipment just brought in from London and pointed at the man, looking straight into his blue eyes.

"Do you need something gentleman?" he said.

The countenance of the gentleman did not change in the least, he just stood there, again looking more like a statue than a human being.

"I hope you're not a crook trying to get a pound, because I won't give you anything," he said this time, raising his voice a little higher for every word that came out of his mouth, perhaps hoping that a patrol would come by. After all, Alfred was one of the richest and most revered men in Southampton and always had patrols on the prowl to ensure his safety. Although those streets seemed desolate that night, he didn't lose hope that at least a neighbor would see the situation from his window.

The man with the serious countenance continued without saying a single word, he seemed macabre, there watching him almost as if he wanted to play a joke on him. Alfred came a little closer, taking a couple of steps to try to capture the facial details of that man. No doubt it was nobody he knew, maybe he came from London. From his coat Alfred deduced that he was not a tramp or a crook looking for money. He looked like a man of high status.

"If you continue to follow me I will have you imprisoned. I will personally ensure that you are locked up in the darkest hole in Southampton." he shouted. The man took two steps as well, getting even closer. So close that he could see even the tiniest imperfection in his skin.

A few seconds later, that man began to run in his direction, and it was there that Alfred saw him well. The alcohol seemed to have vanished from his system and his sight was no longer blurred. This man carried a knife in his hands and charged it with impetus in his direction.

"Stop," Alfred shouted, raising both hands and walking away cautiously. At that point the smartest option would have been to run in the other direction, making sure to shout loud enough to get all the neighbors to wake up, but something inside him was screaming at him not to do so. It almost seemed as if his thoughts had been replaced and he could not send commands to his legs.

"Run, legs." He was shouting to himself, but these didn't move. He had frozen. And at that moment he begged that it was just a hallucination because of the mixture of alcohol and opium in his blood.

But it was not. That situation was real. As real as the pain he felt through his whole body as the blade of the knife pierced his heart. Alfred could not scream, and though he tried hard, his lips were sealed. It almost seemed as if someone had stitched them up, preventing him from begging for help or mercy. The pain gradually disappeared and he only felt cold, an incredible chill rising from the tips of his toes to his hair.

The man raised his eyebrows and ripped out Alfred's heart as if it were something he did every day. He did not seem to be distressed when he threw his heart into the ditch.

For some long and suffocating minutes, that man watched Alfred as life slowly disappeared from his body. Alfred did not feel any more pain, he did not feel anything because he was just a corpse without soul. The man threw the knife in front of his body and sighed deeply. Although it was not a sigh full of resentment, he just seemed bored and exhausted, as if he had been doing that for hours.

The man placed his hair back, combing his hair with his hands as if he had just woken up and had to attend an important meeting in a few seconds. He looked at Alfred's body one last time with disdain and began to walk in the opposite direction. He did not seem to be afraid of being discovered, he did not seem to fear the repercussions that such an act would bring. Perhaps he was a man of important office, above Alfred. Perhaps he was a contract killer. 

The neighbors remained silent, they did not seem to have seen or heard anything. Or maybe they were too scared to stick their noses out the windows. Either way, that man left the scene of the crime in no hurry and left the body of his victim as if it were nothing. One thing was clear, this was not the first time he had killed. And it didn't look like it would be the last.

To be continued...

So, if you’ve read until here, i really hope you enjoyed it! 

This is a book i wrote one year ago but never got to finish because of how perfectionist and critic i am to myself, so i’m bringing this into a simstory just to revive it. There’ll be more chapters and character portrayal so you don’t get lost on who’s who. Again, i’m sorry if my english is not perfect. I don’t know many words that were usen back in XIX century in english, so if there’s a spanish speaker who’s reading this and is interested in reading the full book, let me know and i’ll send you a pdf, but it’s just a draft!