#lord please let him spiral let him bring everyone down with him let him become hopelessly self-destructive and let everyone around him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uchihabbynic · 3 years ago

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Our Little Secret

Characters: Naruto Uzumaki x Fem! Reader

Brief Mentions: Shikamaru Nara

Warnings: Smut (Vaginal Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Etc.) ; Infidelity ; Porn w/ Minimal Plot

Word Count: 4k

Special Note: I love that this is pretty much pure FILTH! 😈 So, this one’s for you babe! @jordyn-degas I love spending my days spiraling like this because well… it’s Naruto Uzumaki ✨🧡

Mood 🎧 : ZAYN - PILLOWTALK

You were proud to have become Lord Seventh’s personal assistant. He was a man you’d admired from afar for ages. You and Naruto were friends for a brief period of time during your teenage years but life happened and of course - you drifted apart, only to be reconnected again by your line of work. Fortunately, he wasn’t the same annoying kid you had met 15 years ago.

Lord Seventh was poised, professional and much calmer than in his youth yet - still so unbelievably handsome. You’d constantly catch yourself thinking of what life in Naruto’s world full-time consisted of? He intrigued you in many ways and you wanted to peel back every layer to really KNOW him.

You knew that he had been separated from his wife for a few years now which resulted in harmless flirting between the two of you; however, he’d always made it a point to keep it professional when in the office.

The thing he didn’t know was that you were recently engaged to a man from The Hidden Cloud Village.

Your engagement to your fiance was easy and comfortable. He was the exact kind of man your parents always dreamed of for you. Yet, it still wasn’t enough. You craved excitement - a spice in your life that your fiance didn’t bring. Sure, he was a sweet man and treated you well but when it came down to it - he was safe and a bit boring.

When the dirtiest thoughts crept into your mind working late nights in the Hokage’s Office - it was Naruto who caused your aching core to soak your panties at the thought of being bent over his desk, begging and whimpering for his cock like the slut you really were.

Naruto was an amazing man - Kind to just about everyone he met and the lust you felt for him grew more intense as the days passed. It became increasingly obvious over the past few months that your feelings weren't merely one sided but Naruto - now having been single for a while, felt the same way and happily matched your energy.

The touches on your back - slightly lower than most would consider platonically acceptable, the lingering stares, the compliments on the small things - changes to your hair, the perfume you wore. He noticed things your fiance didn’t and made you feel like the most special woman in the world - in the most subtle of ways. The sexual tension between you two became electric and undeniable.

You were thrilled to have been invited to an exclusive networking event being held at the administrative building - in which, Tsunade provided all the best Sake. (Duh)

The night started off as casual as ever, as you stood next to Lord Seventh writing down upcoming meeting dates as he chatted with other important officials but as the night progressed, Naruto encouraged you to “let loose a little” and enjoy some Sake as you always worked yourself harder than most.

In the midst of all the buzz - Naruto slipped off to his desk for a bit of peace from the chatter. You were assigned to stay by Naruto’s side all night and when you noticed he was missing, you knew exactly where to find him.

“Lord Seventh?” you asked, clutching a cup of Sake in one hand, peeking your head into his office door.

“Please, Y/N. It’s after hours. Naruto will do just fine.” He beamed, inviting you further inside of his office.

You smiled, making your way inside the large, dim office - now noticing papers sprawled about. “I just wanted to check on you.” You immediately groaned seeing Naruto’s face deep in the stack of papers in front of him. “Why not take a night off?”

Naruto looked over at you, giving you a warm grin. “You know me - a bit of a workaholic, these days.” he said, with a shrug.

The alcohol slowly permeated your system, causing you to feel warm all over. You momentarily basked in the quietness of the office and the bright moonlight shining through the large windows. The mood was so serene yet you couldn't help but let dirty thoughts that flooded your mind absolutely consume you as you scanned Naruto’s body. His signature cream colored cloak was draped perfectly over his muscular shoulders and all you could imagine was gripping onto them for dear life as you’re bouncing up and down on his cock. You were a bit of a mess and had the sex drive of a 16 year old boy.

The liquid courage that you had been sipping on throughout the night caused you to do something bolder than usual. You walked around behind Naruto’s desk where he sat, leaning down right next to his ear.

“I think you need to relax more, Lord Seventh…” you giggled. “Oops, I mean…Naruto.”

You grabbed Naruto’s tensed shoulders, gently massaging them, letting your breath tickle his neck - the light blonde hair sticking up on edge. Feeling your hands run free across his back caused an obvious shift in his demeanor because he accidentally let a low groan slip from his mouth - almost as if he hadn’t been touched in months.

Naruto let out a deep, throaty cough to mask his moan. “Y/N…I’m sorry if this is quite forward but…If you aren’t busy tonight, I’d love to catch up. You’re welcome to come to my place!”

Your eyes had a certain twinkle in them as you stood back now facing Naruto, processing exactly what he was asking you. “No need to apologize at all, Sir, but don’t you have to get back to the event?”

Naruto stood up from his executive chair, towering over you and smiled.

“I think they’ll manage without me.” he said with a wink as he slinked his arms around your lower waist, causing you to melt under the fierce gaze of his gorgeous blue eyes.

As Naruto pulled you closer to his body, you knew the alcohol had begun its fearsome takeover as you both exchanged looks that only the two of you would understand. His bedroom eyes were undeniable and the lust that you both experienced suddenly felt overwhelming - this burning desire that made you forget all your inhibitions. The nonverbal communication was LOUD and Naruto knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“A-are you sure?” you stuttered as you were in a state of shock. Naruto’s demeanor, now making it clear that he wanted you - caused every fantasy and disgusting, perverted thought you’d ever dreamt up to play in your mind over and over.

“Positive.” Naruto said with a cheeky grin.

As you stood close to Naruto’s chest - lost in your thoughts, contemplating your next steps, Naruto had already pulled out his phone to have a driver come pick the both of you up.

“Since we’ve been drinking - I have a driver coming, if that’s okay. He’ll be here in 10.” Naruto said, giving you his classic, boyish, cheeky smile.

>>>

You and Naruto had slipped past the room full of executives, making your way out the back door and inside the large black SUV. You were so nervous for what was about to come next that you were trembling. The truth is, you talked a lot of big shit - but when it came down to it, Naruto made you go weak at the knees with nerves and excitement for the unknown.

As the SUV departed and you both were settled in your seats, the car went silent. Naruto carefully slid under your tight black dress running his large, calloused hand up your thigh - causing a breathy gasp to leave your lips. You felt your core clench at his touch and found yourself instantly turned on and flustered by Naruto’s straightforwardness. It was incredibly sexy and by the newly prominent tent that had formed in his slacks, you weren't the only one that was getting hot and bothered.

Moments later, the SUV pulled into the driveway of a picture-esque home. For someone who’d been single for a while now, you expected more of a bachelor pad but what you saw was clear evidence of a man who’d been previously married - a lawn that screamed, “A Woman’s Touch”.

Naruto tipped the driver and gently grabbed your hand, guiding you out of the car and into his home.

“Make yourself comfortable, love.” he said, hanging his cloak up near the front door.

You looked around Naruto’s home amazed and in disbelief that you were really there. He was your boss after all. You made yourself comfortable on his couch as he grabbed wine from his fridge and two tall glasses.

With the more wine you consumed, the nerves temporarily subsided and the conversation just flowed naturally. The two of you had spent the following hour talking, laughing, reminiscing and catching up. Underneath the serious demeanor Naruto often portrayed while at the office, you had almost forgotten how silly and carefree he was. He was truly a delight.

“Naruto…um, do you mind unzipping my dress?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up from the slight embarrassment you felt. You had been stuck in your dress for hours at this point, desperate for relief from the tight material holding you in.

“Not at all, darling.” The blonde smirked and began slowly unzipping your dress instantly freeing you from its tight confines. As the material fell from the upper half of your body, you immediately shivered at the way you were standing, partially exposed in The Hokage’s living room.

Naruto blushed at the sight of you. “I uh…I can grab you a change of clothes. Be right back.” the blonde hurried away to the room next door, rummaging through his drawers.

As you stood half naked in Naruto’s living room, tipsy as hell - you thought, it’s now or never. You had fantasized about this scenario more times than you could count and there was no way you were letting this moment slip away. You quickly took off the remaining fabric that pooled near your waist, exposing your thick, shapely body. As Naruto made his way back into the living room with a pair of his gym shorts and a tee in hand, he immediately froze seeing your partially naked body.

All he could think about was devouring every inch of you.

You extended a finger in Naruto’s direction, calling him towards you with a singular motion alone, lust written all over your face - cheeks flushed from all the alcohol you’d consumed. Without hesitation, he dropped the clothes on a nearby chair and hurried over to wrap his arms around your waist - one hand, carefully grabbing a handful of your ass.

You craned your neck to the right side, granting Naruto access to your sweet spot. Instinctively, he began peppering sloppy, wet kisses up and down your neck & collarbone. You shivered at his delicate lips on your scorching hot skin. You spun around, standing on your tiptoes to grab the Uzumaki’s face, bringing it to yours - impressed by your own courageousness. You pushed your lips against his taking in all of him with so much desire and fervor, you could feel Naruto get hard once more through the pants he wore. Your hand flung to the growing bulge in front of you, palming him gently through the fabric.

Naruto let out a soft moan in your mouth, followed by a chuckle. “Someone’s eager, huh?” he asked, slightly shocked by your straightforwardness. You laughed against his soft pink lips in response, not caring how desperate you appeared.

“Jump.” Naruto commanded.

You jumped on command letting Naruto catch you - your legs now wrapped around his waist, his rough fingers digging into your squishy thighs - feeling his bulge prominent underneath you. The thought of something so massive filling you up caused your head to spin.

Still kissing, Naruto walked you to his bedroom and softly plopped you down, arranging himself in between your legs in the process. You were starting to sweat. You’d never seen Naruto naked before so you suddenly felt like a nervous, giggling, virgin.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this…” you whispered.

Naruto grinned at the ego boosting compliment. “Show me how much you want it, sweetheart.”

Naruto quickly discarded his clothes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. As you settled back on his bed, legs parted as wide as they could go - your hand flung to your mouth, carefully coating your index and middle finger with your saliva and slipped your hand down the front of your thong. You slid your fingers in between your wet folds, letting out soft moans as you inserted the digits inside of you.

Naruto’s mouth dropped wide open in disbelief at the scene unfolding in front of him. It had been almost a year since he’d been intimate with anyone so watching you pleasure yourself turned him on more than ever. Pushing his boxers down to his ankles, he let his large cock forcefully slap his abdomen. He grabbed his hard length, initially giving it a small tug. Naruto shuddered at the contact from his hand to his dick. The man was so touch starved that even his own hand got him going more than usual.

Naruto began slowly pumping his thick cock up and down, letting the precum coat the tip. Deep raspy groans left his slightly parted lips from all the visual and physical stimulation in front of him.

“Ah, fuck. That's right baby. Play with that little pussy for me.” Naruto moaned, getting louder with each pump.

Suddenly, the blonde spit on his right hand, coating the entirety of his length as he watched you pump two fingers in and out of your sopping wet cunt - your thong now pushed completely to the side, exposing your freshly waxed pussy. All he imagined was your pretty face with mascara run tears streaming down as you took his entire length in the back of your throat. He was a sucker for a good blowjob, after all.

“Anything for you, Lord Seventh.” you batted your long lashes looking up at Naruto’s flushed face, now biting your lip, sending yourself in a frenzy as you found yourself knuckles deep inside yourself.

Naruto started stroking a bit more vigorously this time as he continued watching you. Feeling his slick, saliva coated hand wrapped around his cock reminded him of what it may feel like to be inside any one of your warm, wet holes. Naruto threw his head back, bucking his hips into his hands more violently. By this point - images of your soft lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, consumed him and he began losing himself.

“You should take my cock down your throat like a good girl, love.” Naruto said, accompanied by another raspy, strangled moan - the knot in his stomach already beginning to tighten.

“I have a better idea.” you said, pulling your fingers out of your overly stimulated cunt, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Naruto’s lips. “Switch places with me.”

Naruto cocked his head to the side, brow raised, smirking - eager to know what you had up your sleeve.

“Wait wait!” Naruto had grabbed your bra straps pulling them down over your delicate shoulders.

“First - This has to go.” he teased as he skillfully reached behind your back, unhooking the bra and tossing it to the other side of the bed, unleashing your soft, heavy mounds of flesh.

You slid off the bed, now sitting perched in between Naruto’s legs, looking up at his lidded blue eyes. “I wanna try something.” you said, sweetly.

Naruto’s face was blushed as he took in the view of you from that seductive angle. Your large breasts brushing up against his muscular thighs causing his dick to twitch with excitement.

“Oh baby, you’re so fuckin’ sexy…” Naruto growled lowly.

He leaned forward and grabbed your large breasts, squeezing them in his hands - pinching your nipples in the process. You let out soft moans at the pleasure he was bringing you. You were already getting dizzy from the euphoria that’d come over you and you hadn’t even had sex yet.

“Ahhh, that feels so good…” you cooed, fully enjoying the titty worship Naruto was blessing you with.

You opened your mouth - tongue fully extended, letting the saliva that had pooled in your mouth drip down in between your deep cleavage. You grabbed Naruto’s cock, carefully sliding it in between your large breasts. Instinctively, the Uzumaki began slowly rocking his hips back and forth trying to savor the feeling of your soft, squishy flesh his dick was now buried in. Naruto moaned at the new sensation, pleasure suddenly overtaking his body.

“Goddammit, you feel so good. So fucking beautiful…” Desperate, needy panting was all you heard as Naruto was unraveling before your eyes.

Your tongue carefully sucked and swirled around his red, throbbing tip with every thrust as he continued to bury his length in your juicy tits. His precum was spilling from the head, creating extra slip in between your boobs. You were so turned on by this, you could cum just from hearing him moan and writhe in pleasure.

“Y/N…Oh God, Im so close babygirl, fuck!” Naruto groaned as he was moments from shooting his hot sticky load all over your breasts. However, you weren’t quite done with him yet.

“Ah, Ah. Not yet.” you purred - Instantly, releasing your boobs from the chokehold it had around Naruto’s swollen cock, allowing his impending orgasm to subside. Naruto’s chest quickly rose and fell, trying to regain his composure.

Naruto reached down grabbing both of your cheeks, pulling you into a sloppy kiss, as your tongues danced in perfect synchrony. You were aching for Naruto to fill you up and without a second thought, you pushed forcefully onto his chest, causing him to fall flat on his back into the mattress.

Naruto’s cock was standing at attention, throbbing - inviting you to milk every last drop of cum out of it. You crawled over and immediately straddled Naruto’s lap; sitting with your back facing his chest. You felt a hard SMACK and a sting on your ass as Naruto planted his hand firmly down on your round bum.

“Kinky little thing, are we?” Naruto whispered as he worshiped your ass, running his hands all over the jiggly flesh. You giggled, confidence now spilling from your body like never before.

You carefully squatted over Naruto’s cock, sliding it forwards and backwards between your slick folds, pushing it ever so slightly inside of you but immediately pulling it back out - just to be a bit of a pain. You instantly heard another groan leave Naruto’s mouth, frustrated with the extended amount of teasing.

“P-please, just sit on it.” Naruto whimpered, jerking his hips upwards to try and slide inside of you, hands digging into your hips.

As much as you loved to hear him begging for your pussy, you’d have enough teasing of your own and was ready to feel the man you’d always fantasized about - balls deep inside of you.

You carefully sank yourself down on Naruto’s hard length. Savoring the way he filled you so perfectly - causing him to mutter curses under his breath as he guided you down with his hands clutching your waist.

“Oh my god! You’re stretching me so good. - So deep!” you moaned as you began gyrating up and down on Naruto’s cock - the sound of your ass now slapping against his pelvis.

The room was now mixed with moans and groans from the dirty sex you were having as Naruto grabbed a fistful of your hair tugging it as you continued to ride him in reverse.

“Yeah just like that…bounce on that dick. You’re takin this cock like a fuckin’ champ, baby.” Naruto groaned as he was finally being pushed to the edge. Your legs were moments from giving out and the coil in your stomach was sending you to another dimension as euphoria washed over your body.

“Naruto, fuuuck! I'm so c-close! Cum in me!” you screamed out as you clenched hard around his dick - your orgasm hitting you, causing your body to convulse as pleasure surged throughout.

“Y/N! Fuuuuuck! I’m gonna fill your needy little cunt to the brim...I’m a-almost there!” Naruto grunted, meeting your pussy with the last few strokes he could muster before cumming deep inside of you.

Naruto violently shook under you as the last of his cum hit the back of your gummy walls. You fell over completely exhausted and out of breath. It was now only a little past midnight and you couldn’t believe the events that had unfolded. As you both came down from your mind blowing orgasms, reality had began to set in. Not only were you going to have to explain this to your fiance as you were breaking things off with him, but you worried going back to work on Monday would be awkward. Naruto jumped up to fetch you a towel, some water and some comfortable clothes. All you could think about was where you went from here.

>>>

A little more than a month had gone by since your one night stand with the Hokage himself. It was surprisingly easy to move about the office making no mention of your taboo encounter. Fortunately, Naruto hadn’t treated you any differently - in fact, he had been hinting at starting over and taking you out on a real first date, which made your heart flutter. However; there wasn't time to celebrate as you sat in the bathroom down the hall of the Hokage’s office sobbing your eyes out as you read the words “pregnant” on all 3 white sticks you had brought to work with you that morning.

Even though you were on the pill, a nagging sensation in the back of your mind enticed you to purchase pregnancy tests just to be sure. You sat staring at the tests in disbelief, as tears streamed down your face - that you’d gotten yourself in this situation. The night after your rendezvous, you went home and immediately broke things off with your fiance. Fully knowing that you haven't been intimate with him in months, you were certain this child was none other than Lord Sevenths. You exited the stall, smoothed your dress, fixed your hair and dabbed any eye makeup that may have smudged as you needed to keep your composure at work.

With the tests in hand, carefully stored in a ziplock bag - you figured it was best to be upfront and honest as this wasn't a secret you were going to be able to hold onto while causally working alongside him as if nothing was going on.

Completely unaware that Shikamaru was delivering lunch to Naruto’s office, you barged right in.

“Naruto, we need to talk!” you blurted out.

Totally caught off guard, both Naruto and Shikamaru looked at you, stunned. Completely shocked by your entrance. Shikamaru’s presence had you just as taken aback as you realized what you were holding out in the open for everyone to see.

Naruto and Shikamaru both stood still, not daring to move a muscle. Naruto looked between you and the plastic bag that held the pregnancy tests - face now sickly and pale looking. Without saying a word, Shikamaru crossed his arms, now exchanging glances between you, Naruto and the bag that provided evidence of your infidelity and Naruto’s potential PR nightmare he’d just found himself in.

Naruto lowered his head, his face bright red like a tomato. “Uh, Shikamaru…A moment, please?”

Shikamaru stayed silent, giving you a disapproving glare on the way out. For a man that always had something to say - an answer for everything, he kept his mouth shut and respectfully excused himself.

Unfortunately, this was one slip up no one else could sort out but you and The Hokage.

#naruto smut #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki smut #naruto one shot #shikamaru #naruto x y/n #jordyn-degas i love you!

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heretofuckthevillain · 3 years ago

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Alfie Solomons x reader smutfest

Ayyyy my first time writing smut cheeeeeck honestly don’t know what I’ll do if this flops I haven’t put this much effort into anything since high school major projects lol please let me know what you think.

Summary: you’re a Shelby sister, forbidden love, that kind of thing

Warnings: 18+ mentions of alcohol and abusive husband (nothing graphic) lots of smut, no character consistency only sexy time, swearing, ahhh fingering, handjob, fucking, it’s 2am I can’t remember what you call it when you belittle someone in a sexual way sorry, sexy bruising, unprotected sex and cumming inside, cockwarming yum yum, puss eating but not much, just now realising I forgot the blowjob scene fuck my life there will be a part two solely for blowjob and pussy eating scene

Word count: 4,000

Sidenote you have to scroll so far through Alfie gifs on this website to get to mr Solomons depressing that it’s saturated with Emily in Paris Alfie not that he isn’t super hot I would just never watch Emily in Paris. Second side note I’ve been writing this for so long that I’m not even attracted to this fucking man anymore lord give me strength and don’t let this flop

The cold night air sweeps across your exposed skin, making you shiver. Grumbling to yourself, you pull your fur coat tighter around your silk nightgown as you make your way through the empty city streets.

There hadn’t been time to dress properly for the weather as you hurried to escape the wrath of your husband, who stumbled in drunk again, trashing the place and not letting you rest. You couldn’t deal with the drama of trying to stop him, and he wouldn’t even notice you were gone. Growing up in the Shelby family was hell, and you’d taken the first chance you could to get away from their influence. You thought you’d be free to live as you pleased in London, but had ended up with more of the same, a violent drunken husband who made your life even more miserable than you had been in Birmingham.

Sighing heavily you take a drag from your cigarette. You look a dishevelled mess and you know there are probably plenty of people who want you dead around these parts, but you’re too exhausted to care. You roam the city, slowly despite your desperate state, praying for a way out of the hell your life had become. The quiet peace of the empty streets at night is all you crave, and apparently you’re not the only one.

You stop for a moment by the edge of the river, gazing down at the moons reflection rippling slightly in the breeze. Consumed by the peaceful scene, you let your guard down and failed to notice the man sitting on the front steps of the house behind you.

“Evenin’, Miss Shelby.”

The voice startled you and you jumped slightly, preparing for imminent danger. Instead your eyes fell upon Alfie Solomons. Fuck. The sight of him sent a chill through your whole body.

Your paths had crossed a few times back when the Shelby Company first expanded into London. You’d been more involved in the business back then, and the sexual tension that hit the first time your eyes met had been excruciating. Everyone else remained seemingly unaware, but the air in the room turned hot and thick and by the end of the painstaking hour of negotiations it was almost suffocating. You quite fancied staying alive and therefore never acted on it, but you can’t deny you hadn’t been woken up many nights by dreams of his hands all over you and his huge body pressing down on top of you.

“Oh.” You let out a shaky breath. “Hello Alfie.”

He leans back against the steps, bringing a cigarette up to his mouth as his eyes raking up and down your frame shamelessly. “You walk all this way just to see me?”

You blush at the realisation that you’ve just showed up to Alfie Solomons front door a barely dressed mess. In your dazed state you’re on the back foot. The events of the night were finally starting to hit you and you struggle to form a coherent thought as your mind spirals.

“Oh I-“. You cursed yourself for stumbling over your words. “I didn’t know this was where you...“ Your voice shaking as you gesture to Alfie’s house. The look on his face is one of smug amusement. Fucking male arrogance making him think you’d walked all this way in your sexy pyjamas for him. Given the situation, you knew there was no convincing him otherwise.

You sigh, exhausted, and roll your eyes. The last thing you need is another egotistical violent man trying to manipulate everything you do and say. Giving up on your weak attempts at excuses, you speak as calmly as you can manage. “I just needed some air.”

Alfie gazed at you intently as he took a drag from his cigarette, his eyes studying every part of you from your lack of proper clothing to your messed up hair and tired face. His expression had softened at your change in demeanour. There was concern, and curiosity, he was trying to figure you out. Above all though, that same look he’d given you as he shook your hand when leaving Tommy’s office. The look that made your whole body weak and aching for him. That damn tension was pressing down heavily, an unbearably intoxicating hum.

“These streets aren’t safe for you this time of night ya know”.

Was that a threat? You don’t bother to keep up with the ever-changing alliances these days, and right now you were too tired to care. You sigh again, looking away from him to lean over the stone wall of the rivers edge, jealousy coursing through you at the sight of the calmly flowing water.

“Yeah, well. Where is.”

His eyes remained fixed on you, brow furrowing slightly at the bitterness in your voice. You both sit in the silence for a minute or so as he weighs his next words.

“You need a place to stay tonight, sweetheart?”

You turned back to him, eyes narrowed as you tried to work out the intent behind his offer. His voice sounded kind above all else, but the sexual tension was growing heavier by the second and besides, you knew better than to trust a man that Tommy had likely pissed off five times in the last week.

“You really think I’m stupid enough to walk into the house of someone who more than likely wants me dead?”

Your voice was strong and confident, but the stubborn pull of him was weakening your resolve fast. God, your whole body was aching for him, begging him to give you one good reason, hell, any reason at all to abandon all common sense and self respect and let him have his way with you all night.

Alfie just shrugs. “You’re standing here talking to me aren’t you?”

Your tired attempts at maintaining your cold demeanour fail and you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re a right cunt, you know that Alfie?”

His face breaks into an amused smile. “That I am, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes. “Not everything’s about business though, you see, and quite frankly dragging a lady of your magnificence into the petty dealings of men is not my style. I would never insult you in such a way.”

Geez, the cunt really knows how to turn it on.

“Besides, are you really gonna try and deny this thing we’ve got goin on between us?”

“This thing we’ve got going on?” You asked incredulously.

“Mm. Yes ma’am. I’ve been thinkin bout you, you know.” He takes another drag, eyes never leaving you. “Quite a lot, actually.”

The tension had gotten to the point where you felt quite dizzy, and the way he said those words as he basically undressed you with his eyes had your pussy aching. Ah, fuck it, you’d thought. It was either this or continue on with your hellish sexless existence, might as well risk your life for the chance of good dick.

Sighing, you shrug. “Eh why not”, the look of surprise on his face following you as you pass him and walk inside.

You’d honestly expected him to pounce on you as soon as he had you inside, so when he leaves you sitting on the edge of his desk to go get you some warmer clothes, you’re genuinely taken aback. Is he being respectful or losing his nerve? You hadn’t thought him possible of either. And it definitely isn’t what you need from him now either.

As he turns to walk away you decide it’s now or never.

“Alfie.”

He pauses by the door and turns back to face you.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Why don’t you forget the clothes and get over here so I can thank you for your hospitality?”

There’s a slight pause. “Well, I, uh-“ He clears his throat. You can’t believe you’re actually making Alfie Solomons nervous. The power rushing through you threatens to spill over in dangerous was. “I can assure you no thanks is necessary, my dear”.

You lean back on the table and smirk at him. “Perhaps it’s not necessary”. You slowly spread your legs apart, allowing your silk dress to ride up high on your thighs, exposing your dampened underwear. “But I don’t think you’ll want to miss out on it. You may never get the chance again.”

Alfie swallows thickly, but doesn’t waste any time in striding over to you. He presses his already hardened groin against yours and places his large rough hands on your thighs, gripping them as his thumbs massaged your inner thighs, making your core throb harder by the second. You fight the urge to groan at the sensations you’ve been dreaming of for years, desperate for more.

“What exactly did you have in mind Miss Shelby?” His face hovering mere kilometres away from yours, eyes flicking hungrily between yours and your lips.

“Everything you’ve ever thought about doing to me, Mr Solomons. No more. No less.”

He closes his eyes, looking almost pained with desire at your words, but recovers quickly with a dark chuckle.

“I’m afraid if we attempted it all now sweetheart, neither of us would would be likely to survive the night.”

You run your hands up his chest and rest them on his face, caressing his cheeks and smirking condescendingly. “Well darling why don’t you just give me your best shot for tonight and if I’m satisfied I might just come back to see what else you have to offer”.

Your teasing seems to have worked as Alfie’s eyes darken and he grips your hips harshly, pulling your body into his. He kisses you roughly, his tongue immediately forcing its way into your mouth as if to shut you up.

God, finally. You’ve waited long enough for this man to use you as he likes.

His hands slide up inside your dress to feel the top of you underwear while he grinds himself harder into you. He slides his hand into your panties and lightly presses a finger into your wet folds, teasingly testing your reaction. It’s almost pathetic the way you groan into his mouth and buck your hips in an attempt to feel more of him.

He chuckles darkly and bites your bottom lip, pulling it slightly before releasing to rest his forehead against yours. “Mmmm look at you, Miss Shelby. I’ve barely touched you and you’re a dripping mess aren’t you, hm? Practically begging for me.”

He slowly rubs two fingers against your clit, eyes remaining locked to yours as you tighten your grip on his shirt, struggling to keep your cool. He smirks lightly and moves his fingers down to your hole, feeling the slick flowing out of you and rubbing it back up, circling your clit and add more pressure.

“Ohhh god” You close your eyes and lean your head back, overwhelmed.

He watches you intently, getting harder by the second as he feels your pussy getting wetter for him, and your face contort in pleasure.

He leans in to nuzzle his face in your neck. “Mmm I’ve been dreaming about making you feel good. Ever since I first laid eyes on you, sweetheart.” You clench your thighs as his fingers slide through your folds to gently and deeply fuck your hole. You groan and grip his hair, bucking your hips into him, riding his fingers desperately, overwhelmed by his words, his fingers stretching you out, and his stubble and lips brushing against your neck, your ear, your jaw.

Needing more, you grab the hem of his pants and pull him closer, you lock your thighs around the back of his, trapping him as close to you as possible. His hand tightens on the back of your thigh and fucks you harder with his fingers, rubbing your clit with his thumb and sucking your neck and collarbone harshly as you palm him through his pants.

You fiddle with the button on his pants and manage to undo it, desperately reaching in to pull him free from his boxers. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick hard veiny cock, already leaking from the tip. You take it in both hands, thumb rubbing lightly over the tip, spreading the precum over the head, and massaging up and down his huge length.

You reach down to knead his balls and Alfie’s fingers still inside you as he groans into your neck, biting down onto your collarbone. He moans and pulls away, his fingers sliding out of you causing you to whimper at the empty feeling.

You guide his dick lengthways through your folds, grinding against it and massaging the other side with your hand. His hands grip the backs of your thighs, harder and harder until you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. The thought only makes your pussy ache more. You angle the tip of his cock and rub it against your clit, down through your folds to tease your hole and back up again.

You tilt your head to rest your lips against his ear. “I’ve been dreaming about you too, Alfie.”

His breathing is rapid now, his broad chest rising and falling heavily against you.

“I’ve been dreaming about how your cock would feel buried deep inside me.”

He raises his hand, slick from your juices and grips the sides of your neck gently but firmly, and you suck in a deep breath.

“You want me to fuck you baby?”

Your breath catches. “Yes.”

“Want me to fuck you like the fucking slut you are? Hm?”

His face is hovering bare milimietres from yours, your noses brushing slightly as you try to lean forward to meet his lips. He grips your neck tighter and holds you in place.

“Answer me sweetheart.”

“God. Yes Alfie please, please fuck me.”

Alfie smirks but loosens his grip on your neck and leans in to kiss you passionately. The tip of his cock presses lightly into the entrance of your hole, making you clench your thighs and try to close them. He grips them harder and pushes them open, and slowly slides his length into you, stretching you out in the most delicious way.

You’re both moaning into each other’s mouths as he bottoms out inside of you, pausing for a second as you both adjust. He slowly pulls out and thrusts back in, harder this time, and you throw your hands around his neck, sliding them down his shirt to grip his bare back.

He starts fucking you faster and harder and your legs lock tighter around his waist, sucking him in closer with every thrust.

He grabs your butt, pulling you impossibly closer, his cock ploughing deeper and deeper as he fucks you like a man starved. The tip of his dick grazes your g-spot, and you cry out, clenching your thighs around him and digging your nails into his back.

“Oh GOD Alfie right there, FUCK please don’t stop!”

He groans louder than ever into your ear, his voice hoarse and ragged. “You gonna come for me, baby?”

Unable to answer, you simply moan into his neck, the feeling of his cock grazing your g-spot and his balls slapping against you sending unbearable pleasure through your body.

Seemingly wanting to torture you further, Alfie brings his hand between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“AHHHHHHHH yes Alfie m’gonna come so hard oh GOD PLEASE”

It only takes a few seconds before the feeling in your core builds to breaking point and you’re holding onto Alfie for dear life, your body clenching around him desperately, nails breaking through flesh on his back, moaning into his chest as your bite down into his skin, your vision fading out as you think you might collapse.

You’re vaguely aware of two strong arms wrapping around your limp body and holding you close to his chest as his lips graze your ear, mumbling incoherent words.

As you regain full consciousness you hear him whispering “good girl, you did so good baby,” as he runs his fingers soothingly through your hair and softly kisses your ear and neck.

“You okay darling?”

“Mmmm’so good Alfie”

You feel his body tense around you slightly as your throbbing pussy clenches around his still hard cock inside of you. You shakily pull yourself off his chest and lean up to kiss him deeply.

“Alfie baby please keep going, I want to get you off.”

He moans into your mouth. “Are you sure sweetheart?”

You move your lips to his ear and suck on his skin, clenching your pussy around him with every word. “Alfie. Use me like a ragdoll.”

“Fuck me” he groans, fingers digging into the skin on the sides of your ribs. “I knew you were a dumb fucking slut.”

He picks you and carries you across the room, throwing you face down onto his bed. He kneels behind you grabs your ass, squeezing the soft skin and spreading your cheeks. He grips your hips and forces them up towards him, sliding your dress up to give him a full view of your dripping folds and aching hole. Running his fingers down through to your clit, he watches as you twitch and whimper in your sensitive state. He presses two fingers into you, making a squelching sound as you suck him in.

“Still so desperate for me to fill you up, aren’t you?” He chuckles darkly before sucking his fingers dry and moaning contently. His hands grab your butt roughly and he leans his face down, breathing out onto your pussy and making you cry out and grip his sheets in your fists. His tongue dips into your hole, swirling around the muscles at your entrance before licking down to sick harshly on your clit.

“Mmmm fuuuuck Alfie”

“I’ve been dying to taste you, Miss Shelby, to watch you come undone in my mouth. I guess that will have to wait seeing as you want me to, what was it? Use you like a ragdoll?” He chuckles to himself. “Such a filthy fucking whore aren’t you?”

You groan into the mattress, already aching to go again to the point of desperation. “Alfie pleeease fuck me.” You’re whining at this point, way past caring how much of a brat you sound like.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that sweetheart, I plan to.” Alfie grips your hips harder and lifts you off the bed, slowly dragging your soaking pussy up and down the length of his throbbing cock. Your face is forced deeper into the bed and you moan incoherent words, overwhelmed with the satisfaction of being dragged and used to Alfie’s will.

“I could get off just watching you like this sweetheart.”

You feel the head of his cock pushing into you, slowly stretching and filling you up once more. There are no thoughts left in your head, only the feeling of the veins in his dick dragging against your walls, of his huge hands digging into your ass hard enough to leave deep bruising, of his heavy balls slamming against your ass as he starts driving into your faster and harder by the second, and of his animalistic groans as your velvety walls suck him in and clench around him.

“Mmmmffhmmm Alfie fffufuuckkc”

“What’s that ? Use your big girl words baby”

You try to answer but all that comes out is a muffled scream as he hits your g-spot once more.

“C’mere” Alfie leans forward to wrap his hand around the front of your neck, pulling you up by your throat so your body is upright against his. His free hand moves to hold your belly, his mouth in your neck as he sucks and bites your skin.

He takes your hand and holds it over your stomach, making you feel his bulge pushing out against your skin. “Mmm feel how fucking deep I am inside you baby? You like it when I fill you up?”

Your voice shakes between your rapid breathing. “Yes Alfie, you fill me up so good, love being full of you”

Alfie tightens his grip on your neck slightly, and moved his hand to rub circles on your clit. “You gonna come for me again sweetheart?”

“Yes Alfie” Your answer is barely a whisper as you struggle to take in air on top of the overwhelming sensations of his cock driving into you and his fingers bringing you close and closer to the edge.

The knot in your stomach tightens and you throw your head back to rest on his shoulder.

Closing your eyes, your consciousness fades by the second. “M’close Alfie, so close” you barely manage to get the words out as your high takes you over, your desperate moaning vocalised as Alfie releases his hand from your throat, and waves of intense pleasure coarse through you, better than ever before.

Rather than holding you through this time, Alfie throws you back down on the bed and continues thrusting into you as he chases his own release. An attempt to turn around to look at him is thwarted as he shoves the back of your head down into the covers, and holds onto your shoulders, pounding into you madly.

You give up gladly and collapse into the bed, any thought of holding yourself up long gone. The feeling of your walls twitching and clenching around him send him over the edge, his thrusts become frantic and staggered, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head, his own head burying into your neck as his dick buries balls deep inside you and stills with a heavy groan, and you feel his warm juices covering your inner walls.

Alfie collapses on top of you, the feeling of his huge warm body welcome in your fragile state. You grind your ass slightly against him as you milk his cock for every last drop, and he moans into your neck, kissing your skin lazily and running his hands up and down your sides, as you both come down, exhausted.

“Alright, my love?” He voice is hoarse and tired, muffled by your hair and neck.

You turn your head to look at him, smiling sleepily as he kisses your lips gently. “So good Alfie. So good.”

He turns on his side and pulls you in, back to his chest, his cock still throbbing slightly inside you.

“Mind keeping me warm for a bit, sweetheart?”

“Mmmm please”

He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing you gently, your legs intertwined.

“So did I do well enough to get you back here for round two darling?”

Smiling at his words you hold his hand and relax into him. You’re already drifting off to sleep but manage to mumble a reply.

“If I’m ever able to walk again Alfie you’ll be the first to know.”

#alfie solomons #peaky blinders #tom hardy #tom hardy smut #Alfie Solomons smut #peaky blinders smut

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itssuppertim3 · 3 years ago

Text

Lean (Miraak x Reader):

Contemplating on writing for Pyramid Head every once in a while since I can't get the thick bastard off my mind but we'll see what the future brings

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

"Do you like winter, Miraak?" I asked the man strolling quietly beside me. "Not necessarily. However, I remember a time when I did. My temple always felt a bit warmer-- more enjoyable during that time." I snorted at him in amusement, to which he wasn't fond of. "I just imagined you stringing up holiday decor." He merely scoffed in denial, though we both knew it was true.

While searching for another conversation topic, my foot slid against the mud beneath me. "Careful," Miraak warned as his hands clasped firmly around my shoulders. My breath was trapped in my throat from the sudden startle, but somehow he only made it worse. Once my voice came back to me, I said, "uh...-- yeah. Thank you." Damn, his hands were so warm. I could feel the heat emitting from them even through my armor. Alas, the soothing feeling dissappeared as soon as he retracted his arms.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't already cracked your skull before I came along. It seems that you are always tripping and stumbling wherever you go." I scratched my cheek and chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, you know me so well."

"That is only because I stand witness to it," he uttered. We continued onward to Morthal in silence. A week ago, Jarl Idgrod sent me a letter of assistance; "potential murdurer on the loose," it had read. She noted that she wasn't one to fall victim to senseless gossip, but over the last several days she had been growing paranoid of the situation. Thus, she requested us to investigate. "I wonder why the jarl wants two dragonborn to take care of a killer instead of the guards? Gods, I feel like most of the soldiers are just using this pitiful war as an excuse to be lazy," I grumbled with my arms crossing.

"I agree. Though as far as I'm concerned, she wants you to handle it, not I." I perked up at his remark. "What do you mean? Everyone should know by now that you're just as powerful as I am. We've been traveling together for three months." Miraak diverted his gaze from me and pointed it straight ahead. "Perhaps, but you and I are still very different from one another. The people of Skyrim view you as a hero to be remembered for ages, whereas I will forever be remembered as a traitor-- if I was even remembered at all." The atmosphere around us suddenly became very dim. For a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the mire sloshing under our boots.

"That's bullshit," I retorted finally. Miraak was taken aback by my sudden change of attitude. "Excuse my language, but it is. Look at all of the good you've done since we've been together! We took down a vampire lord for crying out loud! And yeah, we weren't thanked for it or anything--"

"Y/n."

"But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you put in a lot of effort to make the world safer, and I think that deserves respect."

"Y/n." By now, Miraak was no longer walking at my side. "What is it?" Before he was able to respond, the muddy ground had fallen loose beneath me and I plummeted into a brown socket of water. Oh yeah, I forgot that we were trudging through a swamp. The filth shot through my mouth and nose as I was completely sumberged. To make matters worse, the water was also incredibly frigid, making it even more difficult to sort through my panic. A pair of arms dove into the murk and proceeded to yank me up by my collar.

I gurgled, spluttered, and heaved strong breaths once I was dragged out of harm's way. Miraak shook his head at me all the while. I could practically feel the smirk hiding under his mask. "Oh, yeah. Real funny. Please continue... to remind me of how much... of a klutz I am," I rasped, still trying to flow air into my lungs. "I did try to warn you, you know. You were about to walk straight into the pond," the man defended. "Ok. I'll give you that." Miraak helped me to my feet after I finally regained my composure. "Oh, great," I sighed at the muck covering me head-to-toe. "I look so unprofessional." He skimmed over the grime coated over my outfit before scooping a clump of mud and smearing some over his robes. "I suppose we'll both have to look unprofessional, then." My cheeks tainted a dark pink at his actions, but I decided to blame it on the nip in the air.

My arms hugged my body when I started to shiver. Going for a dip in late autumn definitely wasn't the best of choices. Miraak scanned over the map and pinpointed our distance from Morthal. "We won't be able to arrive there before nightfall. We still have an hour left to go," he informed. I groaned to myself in reply. "Guess we'll have to make camp, then." He nodded, gesturing me to follow him.

In a matter of minutes, he had already secured a decent campfire and was now assembling the tent. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a nearby log with my bedroll enveloped around my trembling body. I was enjoying watching him, though. "I'd say you're a natural. When did you get so skilled at camping?" I inquired once he took a seat next to me. "By learning from you," he stated simply. Gods, how could he be such a jerk yet act so charming?! I avoided saying anything more and began scrubbing the dirt from my armor with a wet rag.

It was freezing, tonight. There was no comforting glow from the moon and stars due to the thick layer of clouds overhead, which only made it feel colder. I shuddered when a breeze travelled through the area and tormented my body. I was still wearing my undershirt and trousers, and even those were still damp. The cloth made my fingers sting the more I used it, until I felt Miraak's hand take ahold of my own. "Your fingers are red," were the only words that left his mouth before he grabbed my other hand and squeezed them both gently. I was so shocked by this that I couldn't even so much as blink. "Are you cold?" I had forgotten about the prickles climbing over my skin. "Um--uhh, kind of." How did my voice become so small?

Before I could protest, I was pulled closer to Miraak. And now that I left exposed, he felt even warmer than he did earlier. I wasn't even touching him! Not to mention how nice his hands felt. He was like a portable smelter! I stayed more silent than a moth as he continued to caress my fingers and palms. There was no telling what was going on inside of that brain of his.

"You may lean against me, if you like."

Oh.

Oh!

My heart was thrashing around inside of my chest. He wanted me to just... slide even closer and lean on him?! Just like that?! By now, my mind was spiraling in both confusion and embarrassment. Still, I was very cold. There wasn't any harm in doing it, right? He was the one who offered. I ultimately accepted his proposal.

It started off with our knees touching awkardly, and then with my head attempting to rest against his shoulder, which failed due to the golden scales protruding out from his sleeve and jabbing me in the side of the head. Miraak eventually lifted his arm, inviting me to scooch under it-- to which I did. As soon as I got situated, he let his hand ease onto my shoulder. I was so flustered that I could barely breathe. It was suffocating, practically unbearable, yet I only felt myself nestling further into him. "You're really warm," I mumbled.

Oh, dear.

Why on Nirn did I say that? I sounded like a pervert!!! What if he thought I was creepy?! My heart dropped as he held me still and turned to look at me. "Y/n, how do you feel?" It was made to be a question, but it sounded more of a demand. I sat tense for a long while, lips parted yet unmoving. "About...?" I gulped when he slowly placed my hand flat against his chest. I could feel his heart throbbing at a rapid pace, as was mine. "Me."

Miraak's voice was low and sounded on edge. Perhaps he was more nervous than I thought he was? My next movements were reckless. Recklessness seemed to be my only sense of courage, right now. I carefully drew his hand towards me and slipped off his glove. He didn't stop me, however his muscles twitched under my touch. I stared at his pale skin for a long while. It was decorated with veins and had a scar stretched over his knuckles. Thanks to the protection of his gloves, his fingernails were in prestine condition. In short, his hands were utterly glorious.

I tilted my face down and pressed my lips against his scar, leaving him breathless. "Does that answer your question?" I asked Miraak with a flushed grin. Without responding, he brushed his thumb over my cheek and felt the entirety of my features. His hand was so calloused and smoothe! I cupped my own against it, keeping it there for as long as possible. Once again, I was pulled into another embrace, this one being much tighter and affectionate. Neither of us decided to speak, and somehow it felt more befitting that way.

With my head resting against Miraak's chest, I could hear his heartbeat quite clearly. It was much slower compared to earlier, more soothing than anything. He wasn't very sure where to place his hands, so he kept one firm on my waist and the other rubbing my hair. Sure, my face was hotter than a bonfire and there was still panic fresh on my mind. Then again, I also felt so calm in his arms. This may have been the first time in my life where I actually felt normal. Everything around me simply fell into place. It was selfish of me to inwardly beg for this moment to never end. As a dragonborn, I had my responsibilites, but for now I kicked those responsibilities aside. I had the right to be selfish every now and then.

"Maybe I should go diving into swamps more often," I teased, breaking through the comfortbale silence. I felt my heart flutter in the midst of him vibrating a soft chuckle. "That would certainly be an entertaining idea. Though I might not get the same reaction from you each time." I peered up at my new love interest with a quirked brow. "What kind of reaction?" In one swift motion, Miraak nudged up his mask to his nose and blessed me with a kiss. It was quick and simple, hardly lingering over my lips in time for me to process it. It was as if I had just imagined it!

Even so, the blush stained on my cheeks was already spreading to my ears. This man was a complete menace. His mask was already tipped back down, but the coy smile he was holding was evident. "You bastard," I hissed. He only shrugged his shoulders at me. "If you fall into the swamp again, I may even give you another kiss," Miraak jested. I proceeded to whack his bicep.

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I bet Miraak got those plump ass lips :^3

#miraak #skyrim #elder scrolls #miraak x ldb #fdb #one shot #x reader #dragonborn dlc #tesblr #writeblr #dragon priest

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Text

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Five: War

Author's note: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: just a smidge of angst, talking about feelings and a slightly steamy moment to look forward too.

Word count: 5,200>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Five - Next

When you returned back to Max’s home, the sky was pitch black. Max fumbled opening the front door, grunting in frustration when he couldn’t get the key in the hole because it was so dark. When the door finally swung open, he sauntered inside without saying a single word. You hovered behind him, following him around his home like a lost puppy. He strolled into the living room, walked over to the mini bar, and poured himself out a glass of honeyed whiskey. He contemplated taking the whole bottle upstairs to his office and using the alcohol to drown his sorrows away. The silence made him forget he had a guest. “Can I get you a drink?” he muttered, not even looking at you. His thumb grazed the expensive liquor label.

“I’m okay,” you denied quietly. Maxwell didn’t say a word, but he took a swing out the small crystalled tumbler. His eyes were still glossy from his tears and his blonde wavy hair poking up in random places. He was practically unrecognisable from the television infomercials, although you deemed it inappropriate to bring up his appearance right now. To you, he was still so handsome. You waited for him to say something, but a few minutes had passed and not a single word had escaped his soft lips. “Max, I think we need to talk.”

You had a lot of questions, and he had a lot to ask you. Maxwell poured out another glass of whiskey before turning around and leaning against the bar. “Yeah, I agree. Why did you read the letter?” He asked first through a shaky exhale. Clearly it had been preying on his mind. Inside that letter was information he wanted nobody to see. He didn’t even want to see it himself. But you… he actually cared about what you thought of him. He feared your judgement more than anything else.

“You’d really hurt yourself and I could see you were very angry. When I saw the letter crumpled up on the floor, I thought it might have something to do with it and I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” You explained your genuine concern, even noticing the way Maxwell’s face softened at your confession. Despite the fact you had invaded his privacy, he just couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at you. “I knew I was looking for a man named Lorenzano. If the letter hadn’t told me you were Lorenzano then I would never have gone to Thomas Family Lawyer’s.”

“I find it difficult to believe that you were worried about me,” Maxwell scoffed incredulously, rolling his eyes and taking yet another swing of his drink. The warmth your words had brought him were short lived and he was immediately engulfed in a cold, unwelcome chill.

“I was,” you reiterated. “I care about you a lot. You- you’re my friend. You gave me a home and you believed me when I told you about Themyscira and the God’s. Max… can I ask… why did you believe me?”

Maxwell hesitated for a few seconds, anxiously picking at his already short fingernails. He could lie. He could tell you that he only believed you when you demonstrated the lasso of Hestia on him, and that would be enough. But there was no time to be deceitful, not anymore. You’d been honest with him from the very beginning, and he owed his honesty to you too. For the sake of Alistair, he needed to be truthful. For the very first time, Maxwell was going to open up about what happened on the island when he made a broadcast to the entire world.

“Part of me already believed you when I saw you in the lobby of Black Gold for the first time. You were asleep on the sofa, covered in mud, in that crazy Amazonian costume thing…” he gestured to your tunic and skirt which was still discarded on the floor from when you had undressed earlier. He chuckled lightly at the memory of you. You were so beautiful and peaceful. He thought that when you awoke, it would be revealed to him that you were there to hurt him - just like everyone else in the world. “There was just something about you. When I saw you for the first time I just felt… I just felt like…” Max was struggling to get his words out. He couldn’t describe the feeling. For the first time, the well articulated and extroverted businessman was at a loss for words. All he knew was that every second he spent with you, this strange feeling grew stronger and stronger. “I just knew I could trust you,” he shrugged helplessly. That part was true at least. “It sounds dumb, I know. You’re a stranger. But I’m not a very trusting man in the first place, so feeling this was kind of a big deal. And then you mentioned Diana,” Bewilderment crossed your face as you wondered what exactly Diana had to do with any of this. “I knew a woman called Diana Prince. Worked at the Smithsonian museum,” Maxwell took a deep breath before saying your name. He took both of your hands and sat you down on the sofa. “I need to confess something.”

“What is it?” you asked with concern. You brushed your fingers over his knuckles and he relished the way your simple touches erupted a frenzy of butterflies in his stomach.

“I did a bad thing,” Maxwell told you, fear in his eyes. “And I’m still confused and… afraid. Look, I actually care about what you think of me so please-”

You placed a chaste kiss over Maxwell’s knuckles and Max swore his heart stopped beating. Your lips felt just as soft as they looked… just as soft as he’d imagined earlier in the shower. You didn’t know why you kissed his hands… you just felt like it. And it felt good. And you hoped that maybe one day you could do it again. Your eyes flicked up to meet his own. “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. I’m here to help you Max. I won’t judge you.” you promised.

“Okay,” he said with a deep sigh. “My company… I’ve worked my whole life building up Black Gold Cooperative. I really just wanted to do something great. Growing up, I never really had an idol or someone to look up to. And when Alistair was born, I wanted to give him the world. Anything he wanted. Because he was my son and most of all I just wanted him to be proud of his father. I was led along the wrong path by a few businessmen who were trying to sell off their investments in oilfields for cheap. So I bought them. Turns out, the oilfields were completely dried out and they weren’t going to earn any money whatsoever. I looked at the data and nothing suggested that was going to change but I couldn’t bear to give up. I didn’t want to look like a failure in front of Alistair… in front of my wife,” he croaked out, rubbing his temples as the stress consumed him. “So, I clung on to hope. And I never let go even when I probably should have. I led the world on with my infomercials, telling people that if they invested in us they’d own a part of the most lucrative oil industry in the world. And as share prices rocketed up, they’d eventually earn more than what they put in. That was the plan from day one. But the cold war meant that-”

“-Max,” you cut him off with a gentle whisper. “You’re putting yourself down for having hope. You shouldn’t- you shouldn’t do that. Having hope is the most important thing in the world.”

“I was deceitful,” Maxwell grumbled, shaking off your comment. “I found this stone that supposedly possessed magical powers. I’m a realist, I couldn’t believe it but I had to see for myself. It dated all the way back to ancient Rome… was a beautiful citrine. After a heist in the mall it was stolen and… let's just say I got my hands on the stone by means I’m not at all proud of. The stone possessed wish granting powers and I-”

Maxwell was rambling but at this point, he didn’t need to give you any more information. You already knew. Everything was making sense. From your dreams and your visions and now this.

“No.” was the only word you managed to breathe out. You shook your head profusely as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. It couldn’t be. You remembered your mother telling you that one of the stones was magically destroyed and no one knew how or why. But if Maxwell had wished to become the stone... “No no no… you didn’t, did you?”

Maxwell swallowed as he immediately sensed your disappointment in him. He nodded in silence, unable to say any more words. He felt nauseated. It was already so difficult to live with - the fact he had spiralled into mania so fast. At his core, he was a lonely man who had nobody to guide him. He thought he was in control the entire time but the truth is, he had lost control.

“Romulus possessed you,” you exhaled shakily, wiping your eyes. You let go off his hands and stood up, brushing yourself down. You nervously began to pace up and down the area of the living room. Maxwell closed his eyes, unable to let himself even look at you. He figured you were so disgusted in what he had done, you couldn’t even touch him anymore.

“Who?” Max questioned you eventually. He wanted the answers too.

“The God of Lies, Max!” you snapped back, not even realising how you’d raised your own voice but you were so stressed and paranoid. “Oh goodness… what if he’s still in you. What if-”

“I renounced my wish.” Maxwell informed you with not an ounce of emotion in his voice. He felt empty. Your head snapped to face him once more and your face softened at his revelation. You wanted to hold Max, cradle him in your arms and promise him that everything would be okay. That you’d be able to figure all this out together. But there was still so much you needed to know.

“Why?” you gasped in defeat, letting your shoulders slump.

“Diana.” Maxwell shrugged weakly, fumbling with the sleeves of his sweater.

“No,” you shook your head. “Why did you wish in the first place?”

“I was so afraid of Alistair thinking I’m a loser. Sometimes it’s so easy to believe the whole world is against me. I just wanted him to love me the way I love him.”

“Alistair has always loved you, Maxwell.” you told the teary eyed man, grabbing his arm and squeezing it. Max’s breathing hitched under your touch and he spent a few moments contemplating your words. No person had ever shown him such unconditional kindness. People were either intimidated by him, or enemies with him. No one had ever even wanted to be his friend. Even his relationship with Julianna was a whirlwind fueled on lust and her desire for his money. That’s why as soon as the oil fields dried up, the marriage broke down, and she’d gone on to find someone else with money - Theodore.

“Julianna messed with me, a lot. Told me that Alistair cared more for Ted than me, that I was nothing but a low-life. Since I found out Julianna was pregnant I was filled with this fear. I wasn’t scared of becoming a father, I was scared of becoming my father,” Maxwell choked out, making a fist as anger consumed him. He tried not to hate, he really did, but he could never ever forgive his father’s actions. You watched as his lips trembled and he looked down at his feet. “The world almost collapsed and it was all my fault,” he shuffled his feet around uncomfortably. “And I’m filled with this gut wrenching guilt I just can’t escape…” He looked up at you and wiped his eyes furiously. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you said, moving his hand away from his face and wiping his tears away with your own fingers. “You are a beautiful man,” you whispered, cupping Maxwell’s face and stroking the height of his cheekbones. You saw him flush a gentle pink colour. “And Alistair is so lucky to have a father who would do all of this… just for him. You are loved. You are loved way more than you know.” you assured, and Maxwell found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch. He was so pretty you could just kiss him again. Maybe this time on the lips.

“How- how can you not hate me?” he choked out, taking you out of your thoughts about kissing him. “Even I hate me. I’ve been thinking, maybe I’m not good enough to be a father.”

“I know how it feels,” you admitted hesitantly, biting your lip. You’d never spoken about this to anyone before. “My father is Zeus, king of all Gods. My mother is Hestia, the Goddess of Truth. I know how it feels to be put on a pedestal. To be compared to others and I know how it feels to not feel good enough. Not important. To have no purpose…” you trailed off. “I’ve spent my life searching for some significance. Zeus had many children, most of which were never able to satisfy their duty as a God or Goddess. But when I started to have these dreams… when I heard your voice I knew in my heart that you… you are my purpose.” you took a deep breath and smiled. “But Max… the dreamstone…”

“What is it?” Max urged you, his dark eyes flicking to yours. “If you can help me with Alistair, let me help you with this. Whatever you need, I can help you.”

“I- I don’t know if you can.” you confessed with a sigh.

“What is it?” Max repeated, staring into your eyes.

“My mother told me the story of two brothers, Romulus and Dolos, both the God of Lies. They were evil… destructive. They wanted to watch society collapse and build a new world. A world they could rule together,” you explained and Maxwell winced. Maybe you were right. Romulus had possessed him… because all of this was sounding far too familiar to him. “When the brothers left Olympus, Zeus gifted them with two citrine stones. The brother’s practiced their wish-granting powers on the stones. Romulus created Rome and Dolos created Athens. And now, only one stone remains.”

“Dolos’ stone remains,” Maxwell said his thoughts out loud and you nodded in affirmation. “Because it was Romulus’ stone which possessed me. So how do we destroy Dolos’ stone?”

“My mother… my mother told me only one thing can destroy the stone.” you whispered. Maxwell looked at you with an urge for you to continue. “Love.” you revealed.

There was a deafening silence that filled the room. “I-I don’t understand,” Maxwell swallowed. “It was the truth that pushed me to renounce my wish. Truth is the opposite of lies… your mother is the Goddess of Truth so maybe-”

“She told me love would destroy the stone,” you repeated, putting your foot down. “There’s no question about it. She’s my mother and I trust her.”

“Okay okay,” Maxwell soothed you. “I trust her too. I just don’t understand how-”

“Me neither,” you exhaled, cutting him off. “But we’ll figure it out, right?”

“Right.” Max confirmed. “Are- are you tired?”

“A little.” you admitted.

“There’s five empty bedrooms upstairs. Take your pick. Make yourself at home.” Maxwell smiled wearily and you nodded your head in appreciation. He was so friendly with you. So generous.

“Thank you Max,” you whispered. “You know. I think you’re a good person.”

Maxwell swallowed. You were so softly spoken and you looked so gorgeous under the dim amber lights. If you were any other woman in any other circumstance, he’d press you against the wall and promise you a night you’d never forget. But he couldn’t do this to you. You were so innocent- and he could risk hurting such a delicate soul. “I’m going to tidy up down here first but uh- I’ll come say goodnight in a few minutes.”

You left the room and Maxwell stood alone for a few moments. As he tried to tidy up the mini bar, every single one of his thoughts were consumed by your beauty, your kindness… just you. And that’s when it hit him. Had he fallen in love with a goddess?

There was so much he didn't know about you— but if he could, he'd spend every waking moment with you, asking you questions about Themyscira and your family. He wanted to know what it was like over there, and if he could visit. He wanted to meet Hestia. He couldn't help but smile to himself. You were literally the daughter of Zeus— and you were in his home. If you had came into his life a week ago, he would've idolized you for your power, but now it was different. He genuinely liked you and wanted to be around you. It was crazy.

You walked down the long, wide corridor, not really caring too much about which bedroom you select. You had more important things on your mind— such as how you were going to find the dreamstone, and how you were going to destroy it. Maybe it didn't make sense right now, but you could only hope that the pieces of the puzzle would begin to fall into place sooner rather than later. The bedroom you had settled in was large, with an en-suite bathroom and a walk in closet. It was magnificent, but then again, it seemed as though every room in Maxwell Lord's home struck you with awe. The bed was enormous too, much bigger than the single one you had back on Themyscira. You wondered to yourself what the point was in having such an extensive sized bed, but you struck it down to comfort over anything else. And it certainly was comfortable. You kicked off your gladiator sandals and sat on the white sheets, sighing as the soft material silked around your bare legs. It was wonderful.

Taking the photograph from earlier out of your shirt pocket, you held it delicately between your fingers. Maxwell Lord, with dark brown hair and a smile that could break hearts, holding little baby Alistair. Every time you looked at the photo your heart felt like it was melting, but in the best way possible. You could practically feel the love radiating from the father and son.

You placed the photograph carefully on the nightstand and unbuttoned the pinstripe shirt that Max had loaned you. Folding it up, you placed it in his closet amongst his other clothes, deciding that's where it belonged. You climbed under the sheets, tangling your naked body amongst the blankets. It felt amazing. Your surroundings might have been unfamiliar, but you had never felt more at home.

Just then, the main light switched on, illuminating the whole bedroom. Max gasped when he saw you lying in his bed. "Oh- oh shit, hey!" he exclaimed awkwardly, his eyebrows raising. His expression was almost animatronic as he saw your shoulders and the top of your bare chest peek out from underneath the duvet. "So, you found a bedroom! Uh- that's good."

"Is everything okay?" you asked, sitting upwards and propping yourself against a pillow. "Is it because I'm naked?"

"No- I mean yes! I mean no! Everything is fine. And, I know you said you were used to sleeping naked before so, it's okay. I promise. I just- you see- this is actually my bedroom. And that's my bed. So…"

"Oh." you nodded slowly, feeling slightly embarrassed. It usually took a lot for Max Lord to get flustered the way he was, and that scared him.

"No! I mean, there's no way you could have known. It's fine. You can sleep here tonight. I'll take one of the other rooms." Maxwell smiled, reaching over to the light switch to turn it off again. "Good night."

"Max wait-" you called before he could leave. He looked at you but said nothing. "Do you think that you could stay with me tonight?" you asked hesitantly, shuffling around the blankets. "It's just… when I'm with you, I feel… safe."

Maxwell struggled to find words, so instead, he just nodded, and sat next to you on the edge of the bed. "When I'm with you I feel safe too," he confessed with a gulp and you smiled. "Although that's probably because you're some superhuman goddess. I suppose I also feel quite intimidated by you." he shrugged, a nervous blush flushing his cheeks.

Your gaze snapped to face him and you tilted your head in bewilderment. "Intimidated? You are intimidated by me?" you asked. "Why would you- why-? I don't understand. I mean, look at me." you scoffed incredulously, gesturing down to your body that was hidden by the thin white material of Maxwell's duvet.

"I am." he exhaled, his eyes not leaving yours once.

And there were the butterflies again. The feeling you just couldn't shake. Everyone he looked you in the eye… every time his voice got low and soft it just made you feel… you couldn't even put it into words. Maxwell rubbed his feet awkwardly along the carpet.

"You can come under the blankets with me?" you suggested after a brief silence. You pulled the duvet open and gestured for him to lay next to you.

"Oh I don't know," he shuffled around. "Here, in the world of man, people only really lay together if they're… well, together." Max explained.

"Aren't we together?" you shrugged your shoulders.

"Mm, not like that," Maxwell pursed his lips together. He wanted to lay with you— he really did, but he didn't want you to get the wrong idea. "People only lay together if they're… in love."

"Were you in love with Julianna?" you asked a little too quickly. Maxwell finally broke his gaze from you. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that." you tried to retract but Maxwell shushed you.

"No, it's okay. The truth is… I don't know. I thought I was in love with her but… I'm not sure anymore." Maxwell sighed, running a finger through his hair. He wasn't sure because now he was having feelings for you and these feelings weren't anything like he had ever felt before.

"But you shared a bed with her?" you quizzed.

"Well, yeah. We were married."

"Have you shared a bed with anyone who you weren't married to?" you beckoned further.

Maxwell paused. "Of course."

"So please," you hummed, smoothing out the bed sheets. "Lay with me."

Maxwell smiled before taking off his shoes and climbing in next to you. "Have- have you ever shared a bed with a man before?" Maxwell asked, swallowing the hard lump in his throat. Just the thought of you being with another man made his head spin.

"No," you said quietly. "There are no men on Themyscira." you reminded him.

"Oh right yeah." Maxwell nodded understandingly.

You snuggled up close to him and laid your head on his chest. "You're warm," you mumbled happily. "It's nice."

Maxwell stretched out his arm and wrapped it around you. You and him were cuddling in bed. He wanted it to mean something, he really did, but he couldn't help but feel like it was platonic on your end. You smelled so amazing. And your body fit into his like a puzzle piece that had been missing his whole life. He could stay in this moment forever. And you were also more than content. Maxwell was broad, and his arms were strong. You felt safe laying with him, you felt like he could protect you from any danger. You trusted him. And he trusted you.

"So, am I the first man you met?" Maxwell asked you, clearing his throat.

"You are," you confirmed. You pulled the photograph of Maxwell and Alistair from the nightstand and showed it to your friend. "I found this earlier today. I like it a lot."

"Oh yeah, that was the day Alistair was born," Maxwell smiled. "I was happy that day."

"You're so lucky to be a father. I've always wanted children." you confessed, biting your lip.

"Well maybe one day you can have some of your own." Maxwell murmured, smoothing out your hair.

"I doubt it. Amazons can't bear children. Although, I suppose I could."

"What makes you different from the other Amazons?" Max beckoned.

"A lot, actually. They're all warrior queens. Fighters. But Zeus blessed me with the ability to carry children if I were to become a mortal, because I'm the Goddess of Home and Hearth. I reunite families. I'm maternal at heart. That's why he granted me that blessing, I suppose." you explained, trying your hardest to recall the words your mother had spoken to you when you were just a little girl.

"Only if you become a mortal? How would you even do that?" Maxwell anxiously slid his hand into yours, and his heart filled with joy when you intertwined your fingers with his.

"If I exposed my true self in front of a large crowd of people then I could no longer be a goddess. Zeus would take away my powers and I'd never be able to return to Themyscira. I'd be normal, just like you."

He wanted to laugh. There was nothing about Max Lord that could be considered ‘normal’— but he opted to let your comment slide. He knew what you meant anyway. "Would you consider giving up your powers and becoming a mortal?"

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I would do it for love." you turned to face Maxwell, to look him in the eyes, but he was already looking at you— memorising your beautiful face. Everything about you was so perfect.

"Love." he repeated, validating to himself that he was indeed listening and not completely entranced by your beauty. His voice had dropped an octave and was no louder than a mere whisper. His eyes flicked down to your lips and he had never felt an urge so strong in his life to just kiss you. He remembered how soft your lips were earlier in the night when they'd gently brushed over his knuckles.

And now, you were looking at his lips too. They were pink and plush and— you'd never even kissed anyone before, let alone a man who was attractive as Maxwell Lord. From what you had learned about him, he was already so esteemed and had probably kissed dozens of girls in his lifetime. You on the other hand, were quite inexperienced. But that didn't mean you didn't want to learn.

You could hear his beating heart as you felt his chest rise and fall. He made sure that no piece of stray hair was in your face. He wanted to take in every detail. With a sudden air of confidence, Maxwell leaned in and nudged his nose against yours. Naturally, your eyes fluttered shut as his warm breath fanned over your skin. His hand dropped down to your waist and he gave your hip a gentle squeeze under the covers as he tilted his head and pressed his lips against yours.

It was magical. His lips moved perfectly against yours, like they were made for each other. Max closed his eyes and pressed his face further into yours, even using his tongue to teasingly lick a stripe over your lower lip. You felt your cheeks flush as an involuntary moan escaped your lips. As your mouth parted, Maxwell seized the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth… and it felt delightful. You wrapped a leg around his and tangled your fingers in his hair as he kissed you. You prayed that this moment would never end. His lips were sweet and you imagined they tasted vaguely of the honeyed whiskey he had been drinking earlier. His hand glided down to your thigh and you eventually pulled away from him with a gasp. He removed his hand from you.

"Too much?" he asked breathlessly, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your swollen lips.

You moved his hand back to its position on your thigh. "No- no," you whispered, shaking your head but unable to contain your smile. "It's just, I've never done anything like this before. I've never been kissed like this… or even touched… I've never even… you know."

"It's okay," Maxwell whispered, cupping your face. "We don't have to do anything you want to do."

"I want this." you confirmed, pulling your body on top of his and straddling him. Maxwell felt his cock twitch in his pants as you accidentally grinded over him, leaning in and reattaching your lips. The blanket was still draped over your shoulders but fuck, you were naked. You were naked and on top of him and you were kissing him. Maxwell was still practically fully clothed and he didn't want to remove the blanket from you but he did contemplate taking his own sweater off.

"You feel so good on top of me like this," he muttered against your lips. "Can I touch you?"

You hummed in response and grinded your hips over him again. "Please."

Maxwell brought his hands down to your breasts and began to fondle with them as you kissed him. You moaned and giggled as his thumb grazed over your puckered nipples, squeezing them gently now and again.

The make-out session must have lasted a good half an hour, and Maxwell swore it was the best he'd ever had. If he wasn't sure about his feelings before, this was only confirmation. He'd grown deeply in love with you.

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headcanontheshitoutofsoulsborne · 3 years ago

Text

Sekiro Chain 1

Original prompt: Kuro teaches Wolf how to play Shogi. Mun's note: I love how this chain turned out. Everyone did such an amazing job. Please show your apprecation for the characters by checking out their work and consider giving this chain a reblog.

@ghoulsteak

In Kuro’s tower, the summer air is warm and still. The sliding doors stand open to let what breeze there is pass through unimpeded. Sun streams in through the western door, painting a bright square across the tatami. Motes of dust spiral in the light.

Kuro can see Wolf from where he sits reading, a dim figure with only a foot caught in the sun, seated with his back to the opposite wall. It’s easy to forget he’s there, both because Wolf has been present in the corner of Kuro’s eye for a long time now and because being forgettable is a trait the shinobi has carefully cultivated.

He stands now and pads silently across the floor. Time for another inspection, Kuro supposes; another circuit around the tower’s perimeter (cliff side included), another quiet pass among the sun-streaked piles of books in the upper room. Wolf is always conscientious in his checking and rechecking, but today he seems to be wound even tighter than usual. On a day as beautiful as this one, that strikes Kuro as something of a shame.

As Wolf steps back inside from his patrol, Kuro sets down his book. “Wolf,” he calls. The shinobi’s head turns. “Would you like to play shogi with me?”

“I do not know how, my lord.”

“That’s no matter. I can teach you,” Kuro says.

Kuro himself learned from Owl. The old man taught him the game years ago while he lingered at the castle. He kept to himself whether was simply resting between outings or sniffing around amongst the servants and courtiers. Kuro has beaten him only once, and he suspects that the old man threw that game. He is as difficult for Kuro to read as his son is easy.

But still, he offers Wolf the same reason for learning as the Owl gave him. “They say shogi is good for the mind. It helps one practice strategy.” He knows Wolf struggles to justify doing things that don’t reap tangible results. The shinobi’s chief leisure activity, insofar as he can be said to have one, is sleeping. Wolf inclines his head in agreement.

Wolf seats himself across the table, and Kuro begins setting up the board. He explains the rules of the game to him; they’re a lot to take in, but he knows Wolf prides himself on only having to be told something once, and thus does not repeat himself. He listens in silence, nodding from time to time or interjecting with a murmured question, and they begin to play.

A minute and a half passes. Wolf loses.

“Hrm,” he says, brow furrowed. Kuro hides a smile with his sleeve.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to take it easy on you, Wolf,” he says.

A slight shake of the head. “Of course.”

“Again?”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Kuro offers him no advice. He doesn’t want to teach Wolf to play like him; even after three years’ worth of rainy days spent at the board, he suspects his own style is still too much like the Owl’s. He wants to see how Wolf plays shogi.

As they begin again, he watches the shinobi’s expression. Between turns, his gaze darts about the room, quicksilver eyes beneath a stone brow. His attention is divided a dozen different ways. This, rather than his inexperience, is why Kuro beats him again.

“Again?”

“Certainly.”

Perhaps, Kuro thinks, he should ask him to play next in a room with shuttered windows and a single, easily barred door. He can see the roots of Wolf’s technique, the shape of his quick, guarded mind beginning to describe itself upon the board, but he won’t let himself become immersed in the game. Wolf can’t let go of his awareness of the tower’s points of entry and escape, of the distance between the palm of his hand and the hilt of his sword.

Kuro begins to push Wolf’s slow offense back, intending to corner him on his own side of the board. Confident in his advance, he overreaches. Wolf capitalises on the chink revealed in his armour and cuts behind Kuro’s lines. As he finishes his move, he glances up at Kuro.

“Hah!” Kuro sits back in surprise, eyes alight. A hint of a smile runs along the furrows of Wolf’s face, and is gone just as quickly.

“I apologise, Wolf,” he says. “I underestimated you.”

Wolf inclines his head. “It is no matter.”

As the game continues to its close and the game after it begins, Kuro watches Wolf’s hold on his vigilance relax a little more. Perhaps there’s something comforting to him after all about a battle with no stakes, an enemy who wants nothing more than to pass a summer afternoon.

@dragonbasket

@fateoftheundead

“Are you ready, Wolf?”

Sekiro nodded and knelt before the low table across from the young lord, who busied himself shuffling a stack of papers. Kuro’s movements were not that of a studious priest, or a graceful shinobi, but guileless and clumsy like the youth he was.

“Why is this necessary for my mission?”

“Your sentiments are pure and honorable, but the pursuit of knowledge and understanding is just as pure, just as honorable.”

“As you insist. I do not know exactly what it is I do not know.”

***

The Wolf turned his head back and forth, flustered as he had ever been and rarely showed. “As I told the Heir, I do not know what it is I do not know. I… have heard that that is a good place to start. To start knowing.” A snort emerged from the background, amidst the wooden idols.

Emma, the mild doctor, approached, frowning in the direction of the snort. “That is true. Do not be so hard on yourself.” She took a seat. “Please continue.”

Sekiro handed the stack of Kuro’s scrolls to the man seated on the ground, who blinked with wide open eyes at the documents. Fujioka gave the smile of a man retreating from a tiger. “So whaddya need me for, anyway?”

“My letters are insufficient. You are the right choice, despite your grumbling.”

“Fine, fine, some compliment.” Spreading the papers out, he bent his head to the scroll he had selected. “So… I have heard it said, oh monks, that… hmm, I dunno that’s the best way to begin. You’ve got far more wisdom than you know, Wolf, but these doctrineses may be too big a breakfast. Tell me- what scriptures did you learn as a child?”

Sekiro sighed. “I remember very little from before I was orphaned, and once the Owl had adopted me I had very little time for scriptures or doctrines.”

Another scoffing laugh came, and this time it’s owner came closer. The Sculptor rose creakily and made his way over as well, though much less gracefully than the doctor.

“Ahh, these old bones need a stretch anyway. The Owl? Ukonzaemon Usui? One slip of the pen and he would have been a cloud-and-water man. Bah, you’re more a cloud-and-water man than the old fool ever could have been.” He bowed deeply to Fujioka, his wooden left arm almost scraping the floor. “Forgive me, scroll jumbler. Forgive me, Wolf. Please continue.”

“I suppose that I know as much as anyone. Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā?”

Seeing the lost look on his face, the others in the room repeated the simple sutra. “You all know it. I’m gald I knew it as well. Perhaps this is not the correct interpretation, but it has always struck me... gone, gone, everyone gone... What does it mean to be shinobi? If we become one with the shadows, then do we exist at all?”

Fujioka beamed. “Oh, that’s wisdom alright, Wolf! As direct as the 6th Patriarch’s famous verse, and maybe as good.” He looked around sheepishly. “What? I know stuff.”

“Do you know who else had something to say about the Heart of Wisdom?” The Sculptor’s grimace was unreadable. Emma turned to him, but cut him only with the gaze of her eyes. “Master Hakuin! Do you know what he said about our beautiful Heart? Scripture scrolls dug from piles of garbage!”

“Garbage?” Emma’s face at last betrayed a hint of anger.

“Easy, sweet doctor. I mean no offense. We may pare our nails at the foot of a burning lamp, we may polish a brick into a mirror, but these base things are not bad. Simply a glimpse of truth. These,” he said, flinging a gnarled finger past the Heir’s donated stack of scrolls. “are wonderful in their own way, but for a man of my inclinations, I prefer the schematics our Wolf brings back. To build wondrous things!”

“Not from piles of garbage.” Sekiro’s face grew dark as he thought back to where he had found many such scrolls and the like that he’d found, in pockets and pouches, in dark corners used as hiding places, and he thought of the secrets he’d found as well, the deep crimson secrets that lay at the heart of men. And monsters.

“Of course, Wolf. Now, of all the treasures you bring back to our little ryokan... I prefer the sake best.”

“Sake!” Fujioka theatrically covered his face, mimicking the voice of a mortified grandmother. “In the midst of our scripture study! Would that not violate the Fifth Precept?”

“Indeed, indeed, sir, but there is one sin that the Tathagatha held more grave than any violation of the precepts.”

“What is this sin, Sculptor?” Emma’s face had lost all anger and she seemed genuinely curious.

“The disruption of the Sangha! Chaos amongst friends and disciples! Vituperation!” He grinned. “I am an old man. I get cranky when I do not get my sake. And when I get cranky...”

“The next time I find any sake, I will bring it right back. For the Sangha, that is.”

“Make sure you do. My friends, is anyone else cold? Without a little something to warm my belly, I feel every draft.” Without waiting for a response he walked over to the hearth where a few embers struggled to produce rarefied strands of flame. “We’re out of firewood.”

The others ignored him and Fujioka produced another scroll from the pile. “The Hekiganroku... some of these things the Heir sent us are quite advanced. Don’t get me wrong, I find a quality koan to be pleasing on its own merits, but the solution of these... beyond me.” The information broker squinted down at another scroll. “Oooh, ooh. The Heir left a little note in the margin. ‘Master Dogen’s commentary is superb.’ Aha! Dogen.” Fujioka became suddenly excited and turned his squint towards Emma. “Waittaminute...”

“I was indeed apprenticed to Dogen.” A faint smile. “Not the original Dogen. He was centuries ago. How old do you think I am?”

Before the broker could reply, Sekiro piped up. “Doctor, you don’t look a day over 200.” She rewarded him with a widening smile at the quip. She rubbed her hands together.

“It is cold. My Master Dogen would sometimes pretend to be a Zen master and jump out of corners to frighten me. He made a crude kesa out of bandages and covered his hair with a sack to seem bald.” She paused in thought. “I am not sure why.”

“Students must sometimes go along with their master’s teaching, I am sure.” Sekiro nodded.

Fujioka continued. “No offense, Wolf, but I got something here from the Hekiganroku that reminded me of you, and our dear ol’ sculptor. Case 54...” He recited the koan and put the scroll down.

“Yunmen Extends His Hands. I see. But I have only one hand.”

“Between the two of us we have two, Wolf,” called the Sculptor from the background, still puttering noisily among the idols. “Yunmen would slap us well if that were the case.”

Sekiro stood momentarily from where he’d crouched across from Fujioka and stretched his back before sitting again. “I recall some dharma if you forgive my rough understanding.”

“Of course!” The broker smiled in anticipation despite himself.

“Yunmen’s koan reminded me of another great master fond of hitting his disciples. Rinzai! What a fearsome teacher. There are tales that I have heard of his striking pupils to teach a lesson, but his most impressive act was worthy of a shinobi. In the meditation hall, during the most serene meditation, he would appear out of nowhere beside any monks whose minds were wandering, and beat them with a stick!”

“That stick is called the kyosaku and the monks must raise their hands and ask to be struck. It is an efficacious remedy for a sluggish mind.” Emma nodded to Sekiro as she rose as well. “I think I prefer your version, though.” “Aha! A fine Buddha indeed.” The Sculptor appeared with one of his wooden idols, one of surpassing craftsmanship. Without any hesitation he flung the idol onto the fire. The others reacted with a combination of horror and disbelief that led into a general clamor. Sekiro himself adopted a blank expression, as there was certainly a finer point to this act that he did not understand. “Protest all you like, it’s only a statue.”

“Of the Tathagatha. Such shame you bring with your recklessness,” seethed Emma. The sculptor scoffed.

Having recovered from his initial shock, Fujioka looked into the Sculptor’s eyes. “This is something I heard about once. That old pervert Ikkyu once did the same. But...”

“A common error, sir. Not Ikkyu, but Tanka.” He turned to Emma. “Do you mean to say that I burned the Buddha himself? Some relic of the Shaka Nyorai?”

“No, it is simply a wooden statue, but-”

“Simply wood,” he interrupted. “Then you do not mind if I burn another as the night grows colder?”

No one spoke for a long moment.

Fujioka broke the silence. “Ya think maybe we studied enough for the young master? I’d like to know for next time... I mean, if there is a next time... who are the masters you’d wanna hear more from?”

“Let us decide which sage would win in a battle, then!” The Sculptor’s face creased with amusement. “Wolf, who do you think?”

“Rinzai, of course. His stealth and fearsome strikes would take the day.” He turned to Emma. “What would you say, doctor?”

“Eno, the patriarch. His touch could make even the most ephemeral things as immovable as mountains. They say in a distant temple he sits mummified, unmoving but still meditating. True strength.”

“I dunno if the Heir thinks this is appropriate. Says here the Buddha himself specified that this subject is not suitable for the path to enlightenment.” He leaned forward with a sly whisper. “I would be like Dorin. Simple, happy teachings, and could spring through the trees like a monkey. Or a shinobi.”

“My turn,” said the Sculptor. “I am sure of my preference for the toughest master. Eka, Damo’s disciple. A great general before that, a fearsome warrior. To prove his devotion to becoming a student of Damo, he cut off his own arm and presented it to the patriarch, and became a great teacher in his own right. Invincible.”

Sekiro’s intuition prickled at him. He tensed, sensing something akin to danger, but...

The sculptor removed his wooden arm and held it aloft. “Wolf, I’ve seen how well you adapted to my previous arm. Such clever uses of the humble mechanisms I installed. But this thing? What use is it? I carved one arm with the other arm. Eka did not even replace his. So perhaps...” He shivered. “Is it cold in here?”

The sculptor tossed his wooden arm onto the fire.

There was no outcry from the others. Only a shocked silence. The sculptor rubbed the bare spot where his shoulder terminated. “Now, Wolf, about that sake...”

A slight smile. “For the Sangha?”

“For the Sangha.” Another uncomfortable pause, then the Sculptor let loose with a cackle.

In the warmth and light of the fire, the others joined him in laughter as the arm lit the room with its flames. @thefatladysang

@poisonhemloc

The old route to Senpou Temple started in the silvergrass field. Genichiro had never been to the temple, but there was a first time for everything. He needed the Mortal Blade, now, that was held there. The crimson one. The black one was further but much easier to get to, and relatively unguarded- but he didn’t want to risk the black one, the one that would kill Grandfather if he used it too much. Grandfather staying alive was the only reason the Interior Ministry hadn’t fully attacked Ashina. And he didn’t dare hasten the illness’s work before he had the Dragon’s Heritage, true immortality, not the Sediment’s poor version. With the Dragon’s Heritage he could stand up to the Interior Ministry, and win.

Grandfather had obviously thought the Sediment was making him unstable, when he stopped to tell him where he was going. A little part of Genichiro still wondered why he had even taken the time to do that. And wondered why he had come out here, where he had lost against the shinobi for the first time by a hair’s breadth, when the more reliable route to Senpou now ran through the dungeons. He turned to leave-

-and a strange depression in the grass caught his eye.

There was an arm. There was the shinobi’s arm, laying here unrotting. It had been a month, something should have at least tried chewing on it, but it looked as though he had just cut it off.

Some part of him knew why. He waited for the knowledge to work its way to the front of his mind through hazes of red.

The Dragon’s Heritage. The same as Tomoe. And Genichiro remembered a spar between Grandfather and Tomoe, when he was younger, before Takeru had died and Kuro had been born.

Neither of them were trying to be careful, but Isshin was always better at swordplay than Tomoe; xe had shined with archery instead, and taught Genichiro. And Isshin had cut off Tomoe’s right arm, with the same lunge Genichiro had used for the shinobi. And had given Genichiro a look, as Tomoe collapsed, and held the arm next to the stump, and when Tomoe revived it had reattached. And it had been like Isshin had never cut it off.

It must have been due to the Dragon’s Heritage. And now…

The prosthetic Dogen had spent days, months, working on, had been given to the shinobi. Every shinobi trick conceivable could fit in it. It would be better, smarter, to leave this somewhere the man would find it, and have him reattach it and lose the prosthetic and the advantage it gave.

But the rational train of thought was being drowned out by the louder, much more insistent voice that had listened to Orangutan complain, sometimes loudly, every time he was at the castle, about the arm he had lost continuing to hurt. And several soldiers, and samurai, who had also lost limbs and complained about the same thing. He shouldn’t delay any longer though, he needed to be moving. Genichiro grabbed the arm and left for the dungeons.

There was a brazier not far from the entrance, next to the cave Doujun had been reduced to using. Genichiro knocked it over and dropped the arm on top of the coals, watched it smoulder, and then catch when he dumped fabric- Doujun probably brought it over to tend to the stab wounds but they were fine, the Sediment was healing everything- and watched as the arm caught and blazed. He had a lot of things he needed to do but… he could wait, for a few minutes, ignoring Doujun grumbling as he retreated to the little cave and watch the armor distort and melt and the arm reduce to blackened bones before he turned and left for Senpou.

Isshin watched the shinobi nod politely, and stand. He would be after the Crimson Mortal Blade, now, like Genichiro was. He half turned- and tensed up, and grimaced, just for a second, but Isshin saw it. The prosthetic definitely twitched, and his good arm looked like he was going to grab at it for a moment, before he went back to the blank face he always wore.

“Something wrong, Sekiro?” Another little hint of emotion, he did not like that Isshin had seen that and commented on it. Now, would he lie, or admit to it? And which would make that shadow in his eyes worse?

“...Just for a second, my… injury, hurt. More than it has. I… believe I need to talk to Lady Emma.”

“Go then! Emma knows what to do with severed limbs.” Isshin watched him leave, not using the prosthetic’s grappling hook like he had to get here. Not using the prosthetic at all, actually. He would have to ask Emma what had happened. He had not painstakingly arranged for this man to get to Kuro and helped him hone his talent for killing just for his arm to twinge a little and have him give everything up.

Wolf had opened the library window Kuro hadn’t been able to budge as soon as he was back, and talked to Kuro, and now was approaching Emma. He looked tenser than he had, had Isshin given him bad news? And he hesitated for a moment, before seemingly resigning himself.

“Something… happened, to the injury.” Emma fought to keep the shock off her face, Wolf was asking for medical help beyond the gourd? When she went to check in with Isshin would she find him cured, talking to a normal, sane Genichiro?

“Okay. We need to take the prosthetic off anyway, I need to check the bandages. What happened?” Wolf had been keeping his voice quiet; Kuro hopefully was too engrossed in reading to notice, and Emma stayed quiet as well.

“It felt like I touched metal held in a fire, with the cut part of my arm.” Emma frowned, helping him remove the prosthetic and the remainder of the kote, not touching the scarf he was overly protective of. Pain from the missing limb, that happened a lot, and he had said it felt like burning. And pain in the remaining limb, from being cut. Burning in the remaining limb was not normal.

Wolf tensed up when she started unwrapping bandages, too, but that was normal for him. There were clean bandages up here, at least, Emma didn’t want to reuse what she was unwrapping. She should have changed everything when he woke up, but there was no way he would have trusted her enough to let her. Nevermind that she had bandaged the arm in the first place and been changing it while he’d been unconscious, and worried that it never looked like it was healing, just not bleeding as much.

Now it did, it looked… like he had said, like someone had cauterized it. Which was normally what Emma would have done anyway, except the Dragon’s Heritage should have healed it completely.

“You were just talking with Isshin?”

“Yes.”

“...Well, it cauterized itself. I don’t know why. It’s still going to hurt- it might hurt more, for a while. I need you to stay here for a few hours, at least, in case something else happens.”

“I cannot. I have Lord Kuro’s orders to fulfil.” Like he hadn’t asked Emma to check his arm. “I will-”

“Not leave until tomorrow at earliest.” Loud enough Kuro heard, hopefully. “Give your arm some chance to heal, since it’s finally started to.” She ignored the dirty look that flashed across his face for a moment as she placed new bandages and helped replace the remains of the left kote that the prosthetic tied onto.

Kuro walked to the front of the library as Wolf pushed Emma’s hands away and finished tying on the prosthetic himself.

“Wolf, please, if you are in pain the ingredients can wait.” Kuro was frowning, one of his hands was fidgeting with the book he still held. “And you did just duel Genichiro. Everything can wait til tomorrow morning, Wolf.” Kuro was probably too far away to hear a bitten back sigh.

“Of course, my lord.”

Emma had her own quarters at night, and Kuro had blankets in this room and had insisted on giving Wolf one of them; he had insisted on giving Wolf several of them, actually, and it had taken a few minutes of careful discussion before Wolf convinced him not to, but he wouldn’t be budged on Wolf having at least one and continuing to refuse was inviting him to order Wolf to accept more. How much Kuro seemed to care for Wolf- Wolf, who had failed at Hirata, who had spent too long trying to find Kuro and get to Ashina, and then failed again immediately- was. Strange. It must have been because Wolf was the only person left from Hirata, this was not how masters treated their servants. At least Wolf would stay awake if he was here, stay on guard.

And he failed at that, too, jerking awake in the middle of the night, biting his tongue to stop a yell like he had with Isshin, feeling like his missing arm had been crushed. It was still gone. The pain persisted for a few minutes, before fading back to the burning pain he had been trying to tune out. Emma was not being told about this, if she came before he left in the morning; Wolf had a duty to his lord, and he did not want to be delayed again because she thought he couldn’t work through pain.

Genichiro, angrier already than he had been, stomped back down the passageway, snapping at the soldiers he had ordered to keep watch down here to pay attention. Senpou was a waste. The monks were easy enough to kill, not one of them could block a swing from him, but every bridge to the monastery was broken. What was he supposed to do, scale Mt Kongo itself just to get to the main hall?

So the black blade would have to do. Open Gate. The weaker of the blades, sure, but it was enough. It was closer too, easier to get to; why had he even bothered with Senpou Temple? He should have gone straight for it. Yes, Grandfather thought it was tied to his life, but no one really knew, just some shrine maiden twenty years ago wrote a lot of stuff on a scroll to justify keeping the sword. It was all speculation. And it was just in a shrine halfway to Hirata and north. And Dragon’s Heritage or not, it would kill the shinobi for good and Kuro wouldn’t have a choice, and with enough of the generals sharing immortality they would drive off the Interior Ministry.

...Here was the remains of the fire where he’d burned the arm. The bones looked blackened, but still recognizable. Genichiro stamped on them as he passed, splintering them into pieces, and continued out of the dungeons, back out of the castle, before it was light.

#sekiro shadows die twice #fanfiction #fanart #sekiro chain 1

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talas-starlight · 4 years ago

Text

Scarred Spirit - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.2)

SUMMARY: reader faces the consequences of interfering with the Agni Kai (emotionally and physically)

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

WARNINGS: angst. Torture, semi nudity (NOT sexually) –traumatising!! physical and some mental abuse. Violence. Mentions/descriptions of death. Crying. Swearing. Ozai being a literal nutter. Azula being nutter 2.0.

A/N: THIS IS A REPOST FROM THE AUTHOR OF THIS FIC - I had some complications with the original blog this fic was posted on so please show this some love,, ALL FUTURE CHAPTERS FOR THIS FIC WILL BE POSTED HERE!! hi friends!! Thank you to everyone who showed some love to the first chapter eep! Anyway I’m really scared for y’all to read this one, but!! I’m aiming to have the gaang in the next one so if you hate this I’m sorry but I didn’t want the story to be rushed so I couldn’t bring myself to skip this :// Please read the warnings!!

Also! In this part italics are internalised thoughts 😊

OTHER PARTS: pt1 / pt3 / pt4 / pt5 / pt6

MASTERLIST: Here!

The Fire Lords command echoed throughout the room, encompassing the crowd in a thick silence.

Zuko let out a small gasp, one only you were able to hear. After experiencing just a fragment of the physical pain he endured, you didn’t want him to make any decisions he would regret, especially if he was considering to defend you. You didn’t deserve it. Burnt, dead skin, blisters across your left side in the hot atmosphere around you. Your heart begins to tighten and rip you apart all at the same time, realising how much pain you caused for taking all of those lives.

Continuing to kneel on the floor of the duelling platform, you’re frozen, filled with disgust as you finally acknowledge the person you became. From your first commission four years ago, you were numbed to the experience of taking someone’s life. Seeing the life fade from someone’s eyes as you plunged your flame lit sword into their chest, you felt nothing. It was as if it were just a switch inside of them, nothing more. One moment they were there, the next they’re not. You recall Zemin’s reaction when you recounted the events of your first kill, and he didn’t make it seem like it mattered. His only response was to scold you for showing off because you didn’t need to light your sword on fire to kill the man.

Managing to push through the new thoughts and emotions that have awoken within you, your mind travels back to the boy behind you. Despite what you’re currently feeling, it will never amount to the emotional pain he has after being attacked by his father. Fire Lord or not.

Continuing to face the floor, you can’t bring yourself to even glance at Zuko, barely managing to croak out, “Forget who I am. Stay alive, that would be enough.”

You feel his stare to the back of your head. You wish you could turn around and say something, anything at all, maybe even hold him. Anything to get rid of the disgusting, vulnerable, and isolating feelings within you. You wanted to tell him he didn’t deserve it, even if you didn’t know who he really was. Because as much as you hated to admit it, you were afraid. So fucking afraid. Zemin never taught you what to do in these situations, especially anything involving saving the Prince’s life.

Unknown to you, Zuko’s right arm cautiously reaches out to take hold to the back of your robes. So close his fingertips graze the fabric, but not close enough. The two nearest guards rushed to grab you while everyone in the crowd stared at your figure on the duelling ground.

With one guard on either side of you, they grabbed your arms and shoved you off the platform. Hissing, and failing to shove down a pathetic sob ripping through your half-burnt throat, you fall onto your hands and knees. A moment later, the guards were back at your side, dragging you through the door you couldn’t bring yourself to walk through minutes earlier.

Freedom feels like a distant, pathetic dream.

You try to take in the palace around you as they drag you to the right. Connecting where you are to the map, you saw last night, becomes increasingly difficult as the prolonged burning sensation on your skin begins to fog your mind. It’s no use keeping your eyes open. The dark colours of the palace give you a headache. You want to pass out. Give up completely. But Zemin didn’t lock you up in a pitch-black, underground labyrinth, for three months when you were eight to learn nothing. Instincts kicking in, you allow your eyes to close and begin to count your movements, listening to your surroundings.

20 steps forward.

Turn left.

15 steps.

Turn right.

You notice the guard to your left has a weaker hold on you than your right. Possibly about of disgust for holding your arm, or maybe to cause less pain. You assume the former.

18 steps.

The guards come to a stop.

You feel the guard to your left, slightly turning her body towards you. “Hey, maybe we should stop for a bit. I think the kid passed out.”

Ah, so maybe the latter as well then.

The guard to the right scoffs at her suggestion. “Don’t worry about it. She’s not completely out yet, she managed to keep moving. Probably just weak from the pain. Stupid kid. We’ve got a long way to go, and the Fire Lord will want her towards the top of the prison.”

Still unconvinced the female guard persists, “Shouldn’t we be taking her to the infirmary? These are really severe burns.”

There’s a pause. Only for a few moments, but enough for them to weigh up their options. “We should, but the Fire Lord would end us if we did that. We’ll just send a healer to the cell after we get her there.”

The guard shakes you, forcing you to open your eyes. Guiding you out of the palace, you squint your eyes as the sun blinds you, eventually able to make out a tall tower-like building before you. Entering the darkness that lies inside it, you struggle to keep up with their pace as they wind their way further and further up the spiral. Making it to a cell, the guard to the right drops you instantly making you crumble to the floor, eliciting a subtle dig to your hip. You’d forgotten all about the dagger strapped around your waist under your robes—the one you used to kill the general.

While the guard is holding your injured arm tugs you back up, you decide to act while one of them is preoccupied. Balancing on your right leg, you swing your left leg around, slamming into the back of their knees, making them fall. You quickly take out the dagger from underneath your robes, flipping it in your hand and using the blunt of the handle to knock her out in the head. The thud to the guards’ head alerts the other ahead of you. By the time they’ve processed what happened, you ran to them, kicking them in the stomach propelling them into the cell they recently managed to open. Running towards them you drop to both of your knees, arching your back as you slide under streams of fire passing above you. Rookie move on their part. Bringing your torso back up, you send a punch to their face knocking them out cold.

You grab the other guard and drag them into the cell as well and swap your robes for their uniform. It’s too large for your adolescent figure, but its good enough. Taking the keys, you lock them both in there, closing the main door on your way out in hopes no one will notice them in there instead of you.

Breath, you still have a long way to go.

With determined strides, you make your way past other guards in the prison, praying to the spirits that for once they’ll be on your side. Following the steps you memorised in your head from earlier, you end up back at the point where they led you from the arena. From this point, you decide to go in the opposite direction to which they took you. To the left.

Stay calm y/n, you’re going to make it.

You find a door leading out of the castle, and you can see the palace gates in the distance.

Holy Spirits! So… I would have made it out in time if I left the Agni Kai… That doesn’t matter anymore, you’re going to make it out now.

Walking out into the open, you force yourself to suppress a scream of pure joy. Time began to slow down as you saw the gates coming closer and closer. So close you started wondering where you’d go once you made it through.

Those thoughts were abandoned when you hear screaming from behind you.

“Close the gates! That guard is the traitor! Don’t let her out, and close the gates!”

No. No, not again. No, no, no! Fuck!

Breaking out in a sprint, you push yourself harder and further than any training exercise Zemin put you through. You let out a painful scream as if it would make you run faster than the guards at the gates, slowly pushing them shut. Nothing could compare to how much you wanted this slice of freedom. After just a few hours of being in the miserable palace, you were convinced you’d rather walk and swim to the Northern Water Tribe without any food or water, than have to spend another moment here. Mind going into overdrive, you don’t seem to hear or even register the fact that there is a group of around twenty guards behind you, ready to take you down.

With an echoing clang, they seal the gates shut. You falter, slowing down as waves of desperation and hopelessness consume you, yet unable to bring yourself to stop completely.

No, please.

One guard managed to catch up to you in your moments of weakness, throwing a strong punch to your head before you have time to react.

WEEK ONE

It had been a week since you were caught (again) and imprisoned in the Fire Nation jail cell and quite frankly, you were bored. After your stunt when you were first brought here, they ensured that you would never have access to any sharp objects, serving food in wooden bowls with only your hands to eat. Bold of them to assume you didn’t know 21 ways to use the bowl if you truly desired to kill them. No one spoke to you, not even the healer who came in wordlessly the first night to treat your burns. You lay on your right side, staring up at the ceiling admiring the small light that came through the poor excuse of a window.

I wonder if Zemin was worried when I never came back. Would he be worried? No that’s a stupid question, of course not. If anything, he’d be annoyed that I damaged his reputation by getting caught… I still hope he got those gold pieces though, at least then I can slowly waste away in here knowing I don’t owe him any more money. Maybe he could finally fulfil his dream and go to Ba Sing Se. He used to always guilt me into learning a new form of fighting, groaning on about how he gave up the money he had to move there and start a new life with the woman he loved, to raise me. Idiot. He never had an obligation to raise me in the first place, I’m probably from nowhere, and my parents were probably mediocre people in the grand scheme of things. Who even were my-

Cutting off your train of thought, one of the guards walked up to the cell and unlocked it, another quickly grabbing your wrists, and latching them in chains. “The Fire Lord has ordered to speak with you.”

You crack a smirk, “Oh goodie, I think I’m ready for a rematch!”

“Shut it kid, you’re lucky he ordered that you can’t be disposed of… yet.”

Am I lucky? Being burnt alive and having access to a non- waterbending healer and a bowl of old rice is lucky? Oh great Spirits, thank you for gracing my life with these blessings from the great Fire Nation.

What. A. Load. Of. Shit.

Leading you to the palace, you make it into the throne room. At this point, you wanted to laugh at their efforts to scare you.

Really? Dark Lighting and a fire wall right in front of the throne you sit high and mighty? If only I were an Airbender, then I could huff and puff until you fall into the flames.

A guard standing near the Fire Lord is the first to speak. “Bow before your Fire Lord!”

Spitting on the ground, you look at Ozai in the eye. “I will never bow before you!”

He laughs.

“I know you are the one who killed one of my generals before the duel after acquiring your blade. It’s quite interesting how you managed to get to him without any bending, I must find and congratulate whoever your trainer was. Lucky for you though, the general was of no value to me and easy to replace. I will also show you mercy for what you did at the Agni Kai, only because it was my disgrace of a son you protected, and just like that general, not anyone truly valuable to the nation. Regardless of your crimes, you have already proven yourself a very great asset for a mere child. For that, I will grant you the ultimate freedom, free of any ties you have with the low lives outside of the Capital. Instead, you can directly serve your Fire Lord as my personal assassin. I will have the best swordsmen train you. Taking your abilities to new heights, you wouldn’t even begin to imagine for yourself. I will make you unstoppable. For a non-bender, that is.”

Based on the confident yet bored tone of his voice, you could easily assume he didn’t care. Yet his golden eyes narrow down towards your figure. Waiting. Testing to see if you dare defy his wishes. The offer is objectively easy. Technically, all he is asking of you is to do the same thing you’ve been raised to do, just under his allegiance.

Zuko flashes in your mind. Tears streaming down his face, and begging his father for mercy. “I will never kill for you! I would rather relive the burns you gave me every day than stand by your side!”

He sighs. “If that is what you wish. Maybe over time, you will learn what a great honour it is to be offered such an opportunity, let us meet again next week.”

The guards, as if they were expecting this, shoved you to your knees, ripped off the top you were wearing, and the bindings across your chest. Frozen as the warm air from the flames around you hit your chest, you were mortified. Knowing other guards present were intently watching you be humiliated in front of the Fire Lord, you forced yourself to control the urge to vomit the contents of your prison food on the floor. Quickly bringing your arms and hands to your chest, you winced at the sudden movement from your left arm.

Without any time to mentally prepare, both guards ignited streams of fire to your back. Instinctively you hunch over, attempting and failing to avoid the flames. Unbeknownst to you, everyone in the palace all the way to the kitchens, froze as your haunting screams echoed throughout its halls.

Through your tears and screams, you faintly heard the Fire Lord speak. “You will learn to agree, and you will comply.”

THREE MONTHS

Despite crying every time it happened, you became accustomed to the burnings every week you refused Ozai’s offer. You began to lose any emotional feeling when it happened, robotically going through each step.

They bring you to the throne room.

You say no.

You take off your shirt and bindings for yourself.

The guards burn you.

You cry.

Ozai watches you as if he had better things to do with his time.

Although today, hours after the ritual, you received your first guest that wasn’t a guard or a healer. You knew who they were after sensing them as they hid behind a pillar in the throne room every week. Sensing them through the body heat within them, a gift you always had since you were little. Theirs was crackled with so much anger and hatred; it was so unique to everyone in the palace, you barely had to think about it.

“What do I owe the pleasure of the one and only Fire Nation Princess being in my worthless presence?”

“Shut it scum!”

You let out a small laugh. “Ooo scum? That’s a lovely nickname, but honestly, a little bland, don’t you think? You ARE the Fire Nation princess after all, why not add a little spice to it?”

She didn’t seem to like that. “ENOUGH! You want spice?!” Shooting a streamline of fire from her fingertips, she shot at your head. Luckily enough, you weren’t in front of Ozai or defending her brother, so you swiftly dodged her shot.

Not giving her the satisfaction of retaliation, you sat in the middle of the cell, closing your eyes and crossing your legs. You began to meditate, trying to block out the irritating sense of fire within her.

She walked up to the bars, staring down on you. “I hope you know that my dear brother Zuzu won’t be coming back any time soon.”

This was the first time you’d heard about the Prince since the Agni Kai. She paused, waiting to see if she got a reaction out of you, but you were a trained assassin for Spirit’s sake, you had more control than that. Letting out a deep breath of air, you knew all you needed to do was stay calm.

“You do know what happened to him after you failed to protect him, don’t you? Oh! That’s right if I do recall correctly, you were so paralysed with what you had done, you didn’t even spare him a glance!” She let out a laugh as you remained still.

“Awww, yes! Poor Zuzu doesn’t even know what his ‘saviour’ looks like and he never will! You want to know why, scum?”

Not really but I guess I don’t have much of a choice.

“Because he will NEVER come back. He will NEVER step foot into the Fire Nation again because he was banished to capture the Avatar! It’s a bit ironic, don’t you think? All your pathetic little life, you have been KILLING to get out of here, gain your freedom, and you’re never going to get it. You’ll die in this cell. Yet, on the other hand, Zuzu wants nothing more than to come right home and stand by father’s side! That really does top it all off, doesn’t it, scum? You have trapped yourself here, to save someone who only just wants to come crawling right back. And if he ever did by some miracle, capture the Avatar? He would look you in the eyes and burn you himself for being such a traitor to this Nation.”

You tensed for a second, keeping your eyes closed you quickly regained composure. “Okay Azula, you’ve had your fun. That’s enough.”

She smirked with a sinister glint in her eyes. “You embarrassed him that day. You took away the little bit of dignity he could have had if you just let him get all his scars… Or at least let him die getting them.”

Enough.

“You will forever be a reminder of what should have been his. You’re going to die here for nothing.”

Enough.

“You thought you could do some good in this world? You were wrong! Your one poor excuse for saving someone’s life will always mean nothing! Zuko doesn’t care if you saved his life! He hates you! He hates you for taking away his dignity! You will die with him hating you! Your hope for doing good in this world means nothing because he is searching to take away the one thing that would end this war, even though they’re already dead!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH, AZULA!” Opening your eyes, they snapped from your usual e/c to a blinding golden light. The fire you trained for so long to control reached its tipping point and exploded from every pore in your body setting fire to anything in its wake. Azula rushed away from the bars of your cell as it melted around you. Feeling your hair raise in a halo of fire, you raised your right arm as a blast fired right next to her head. A warning shot.

The guards outside of the cell who have been watching you since you were imprisoned, stared in shock. Not once had you shown any indication of being a fire bender.

Generally, in this state, you were unstoppable. A force even Zemin didn’t 100% know how to train, leaving you to your own devices. However, these weren’t normal circumstances. You have been tortured weekly, barely given any food or water and countless wounds that aren’t even close to being healed. After the sudden use of intense energy, you felt yourself passing out, allowing the guards to grab you quickly.

***

Groaning as if no time had passed, you found yourself chained up on a boat. “Am I going to be executed?” You weren’t sure if you were worried or hopeful at the possibility.

The female guard you knocked out on your first day in the palace sat next to you, letting out a sigh. “No, but you might as well be in your condition. You’re going to Boiling Rock, into The Cooler.”

SEVEN MONTHS

The guards came by the Cooler to deliver your food. They usually throw it to the ground and leave, but it seems today they received news that was too good to pass up the opportunity to torment you.

“Did you hear that kid? They tracked down your poor excuse of a trainer and killed him. Figured if the best he could produce was you, he wasn’t even worth sending to Boiling Rock.”

You remained curled up in the corner, unmoving as they laughed their way down the hallway. As their laughs slowly died down, you realised how pathetic you let yourself become.

Why did people have to keep dying because of you? You wanted to scream. Burn this stupid icebox down with your hands. Set the whole place to flames. But you were tired. So, so tired. You didn’t even have the energy anymore to cry when they burned you every week. Regularly being exposed to entirely polar elements began to fuck with your body. It didn’t know how to function anymore. Physically and mentally.

Despite being four months since your encounter with Azula, her words continued to spin in your mind every day. What seemed to break you the most was that you knew even if she were right, you’d do it again. If you could go back, you knew you would jump in front of him every time if it meant he was alive. Knowing he was far away from this hell hole brought you a weird sense of peace, regardless of if he was searching for the Avatar or not.

Unlike him, you weren’t far away from this wretched place. You were helpless.

Grabbing the old and cold bowl of rice, you finished your meal for the first time in three weeks.

EIGHT MONTHS

The guards walked in to take you to the palace for your weekly offer, and for the first time, you were already standing. After placing the chains to your wrists, they took you out of your cell just like they did every week. While travelling back to the Capital, you continuously persuaded yourself, this was the only way. You knew, deep down, this was the right choice. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

Entering the throne room, you make your way up to Ozai. Holding eye contact as the flames burn between you.

Bowing before him in the most traditional Fire Nation bow you can muster. You bring yourself back upright, stance and face stoic, contrasting the satisfied smirk on his face. For the first time, he doesn’t bother to make his offer.

“I am at your full service, and ready to comply my Fire Lord.”

A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading this or coming from my old blog!! please follow this one and stick around, I am currently working on the third chapter and a lil sokka oneshot :)) and to my taglist, i love you all, thank you all so much, i’m so sorry that you all have to deal with me rn and im so so sorry <3

TAGLIST:

@slythergirlimagines @mangoberry43 @eridanuswave @whiskeywinter89 @callums-keith @kaylove12 @simplyfandomish @khaleesi-of-assassins

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mavda · 3 years ago

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Beast Tamers

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4(1) | Ch.4(2) | Ch.5(1) | Ch.5(2) | Ch.5(3) | Ch.5(4) | Ch.6(1) | Ch.6(2) | Ch.6(3) | Ch.7(1) | Ch.7(2) | Ch.7(3) | Ch.7(4) | Ch.7(5) | Ch.8(1) | Ch.8(2) | Ch.8(3) | Ch.9(1) | Ch.9(2) | Ch.9(3) | Ch.9(4) | Ch.10(1) | Ch.10(2) | Ch.10(3) |

Ch.10: The Two-Tails (4)

Shino's bugs buzz around him and he stares into the dark. He can’t see, but he senses, feels, and his bugs tell him about the meeting happening a couple hundred meters away from him.

“I can’t see shit,” Kiba shares, right beside him in a whisper. He’s on his stomach, with Akamaru right beside him. “We can’t go closer though, they’ll notice us.”

“Correct.”

Shino remains still and Kiba remains restless next to him.

“Fuck this.”

Shino agrees but says nothing. Away from them, deep into the forest, Lord Graff meets someone whose scent they can’t sense, whose voice they can’t hear, whose presence they can’t follow.

When the meeting finishes and the mystery figure leaves the place, Kiba and Shino try to follow, but they end their chase shortly after, with Akamaru sniffing around furiously and with Shino’s bugs buzzing louder than usual.

“They’re good,” Kiba says, frustration lacing his words.

Shino usually lets Kiba’s words hang in the air between them, especially if what he’s saying is already understood between them. But this time Shino can feel his own exasperation rising, so he scoffs once, turns around and says, “I agree.”

•····························•····························•

Shikamaru and Naruto sigh at the same time, and Naruto locks eyes with him a second before huffing out and shaking his head.

“I talked with him again, he knows nothing.”

Shikamaru lets one of his hands press on his head. Tsume looks at Naruto with squinted eyes, completely concentrated.

“Or he’s extremely good at hiding things? I don’t know.” Naruto opens his hand in irritation. They know Lord Graff has something going on. Out of everyone they have checked on, he’s the only one that meets a stranger. And yet…

“What if he doesn’t know?” Starts Shikamaru.

“How so?” Naruto interrupts, “a third party, you think?”

“Maybe.”

Tsume stares at the two youngsters in front of her and raises her nose in dissatisfaction. “What does it matter?” She growls.

Shikamaru lets his head fall to the side with a tight smile. Because yes, but also no.

“We knew from day one that this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. I knew from day one this was a trap, and you two seemed happy to go into it anyways-”

“Well, happy is a strong word.” Naruto chimes in, but Tsume stares him down and he looks down in embarrassment.

“So I say we focus on what we can do and prepare. Lord Graff is probably giving the enemy information, so what? We prepare. And what we need right now is not to prepare our defenses, but our attack.”

Naruto looks at Tsume, her short hair framing her face, her eyes burning with passion. The fang markings on her cheeks crinkling as she smiles, showing her own teeth, “I am good with that.”

•····························•····························•

Naruto finds Neji in his room. Deep into the night. Neji is reading a book under the candlelight and opens the sliding door before Naruto has a chance to even announce himself.

“My lord,” Neji greets, and Naruto closes the mouth with which he was about to call for Neji before tilting his head and huffing out.

“Hey, sorry for making you wait too long.”

“Not at all, my lord, please,” Neji points to the two cushions laid on the floor before walking to them. He waits for Naruto to sit down before following through.

Naruto sits in silence and then breathes in and out loud enough. Neji looks at him with a blank stare and Naruto has to look away for a second.

“Shall I offer you a drink, my lord?”

Naruto raises his hand immediately, “No, no, sorry, it’s just…”

“Are you nervous?”

Naruto scoffs, “Is it that obvious?”

“No. Not really,” Neji bites down the remarks of how Naruto seems to only show this side of himself to Neji and Shikamaru. He bites down on his questions because he fears Naruto will change his demeanor, as if the only reason for this is because he somehow hasn’t noticed.

Naruto lets his head fall back and moves it side to side. His muscles are sore. “Well, basically, you know we’re leaving in a week, right?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Naruto straightens, blinks hard. He needs sleep. “I’m only taking Shino, Sai and Ino with me. Nothing ought to happen in here while I’m gone. There will be guards and shifts and everything will be under control, you’ll have Sakura right beside you if anything happens. Hell, my dad and my godfather are pretty good assets too, I would say, this place will be more guarded than any other place I know of.” He takes a moment and Neji says nothing, and the anxiousness that eats at him tries to resurface, “I want you to stick close to Hinata, Neji. Fuck, not close, I want you to be her shadow.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“There will be guards and I have already talked with everyone about her being priority number one if… if anything were to happen. Which will not, you know,” he adds, with a soft brisk in his voice. “But…” he hates having to put himself through these scenarios. “I haven’t told her, you know? Haven’t said a peep about things going wrong.”

Naruto looks at Neji, at his white eyes, that seem impassive and full of knowledge. “You have her same look. She knows… I know she-"

There is not much he can say, and there is not much he can do. They have prepared and prepared further. And now Naruto needs to know that someone will have only Hinata's well-being on their minds. So he asks.

"Please just take care of her."

"Yes, my lord."

•····························•····························•

They are inside their room, and Naruto leaves a trail of kisses on her body. He engulfs her, her body against his, his hands roaming wherever they can. Hinata can only sigh and moan to the wall in front of her.

He has a meeting soon after.

“Y-your mee-” Naruto brings her mouth to his. He’s eager, his hands caress her belly and he stops when his hands meet under her, he loves feeling the weight in his hands, the little sigh Hinata gives as her body feels some relief from her added weight.

“Do you think we can-?” he whispers. His breath hot behind her ear, his body ready.

It takes Hinata less than two seconds to nod. Her own body has undergone changes, her mind has become filled with worries, and Naruto’s touch has become the only thing capable of overruling her mind, to keep her from spiralling down places she knows she can’t go.

It is hurried and messy and full of hot breathed moans against her back. Naruto keeps his hands under her stomach and he takes care of not pressing her too hard against the wall. Just enough. Just enough to make Hinata tremble under his touch and grab onto his arms to keep herself from losing her footing.

Her kimono is all disheveled and Naruto presses her to him, keeps one hand on her stomach and the other squeezes her breast. He bites the nape of her neck and Hinata feels herself coming from a mile away.

“I’m c-comin-”

Naruto slows his pace and rides her high with her, he doesn’t come. He turns her around with utmost care, keeping his hands on her at all times. “You all right?”

Hinata nods, but her legs feel weak and her hands don’t leave his arms in fear of stumbling over. He looks tousled, and his erection stands in between his robes.

He starts undressing Hinata in order to help her get ready again, her obi falls and Naruto puts it over his shoulder. Hinata’s hand ghosts over his glans and Naruto freezes.

The corner of his mouth rises, “Are you gonna help me take care of it, love?”

Hinata wants to whisper a yes, wants to be seductive and smirk back. But their desperation to be together has only grown bigger over these past weeks and she can’t hide the sun with her thumb.

She’s scared.

She moves closer to him and starts stroking his erection, her mouth leaving kisses on his chest. He doubles over, covers her hand with his and helps her make him come.

When he does, his mouth opens over hers and he spills himself over her stomach. Hinata brings his hand over her pregnant belly and rests it there for a second, before she steals a kiss from his lips and then uses a cloth to clean herself and Naruto.

They say nothing, and Naruto leaves her with her clothes as if nothing ever happened and with a kiss on her lips that lasts longer than usual.

•····························•····························•

It is morning and Naruto has been staring out their window for a while. He thinks she’s sleeping, but she awoke the moment he stirred beside her and she has not been able to fall asleep again.

Naruto looks over at her out of habit and catches her eyes. He crawls to her, “Have you been awake long?”

“No,” she lies and Naruto lies with her again, but outside the bedclothes.

“I’ll be back before you notice.”

He whispers and she whispers back. There is no one nearby, and what they are talking about is hardly important, but they mutter back and forth, with their hands interlocked.

Hinata rubs her thumb over his cheek, drags her fingers over his whiskers. “I’ll be r-right here, w-waiting for you.”

Naruto’s blue eyes wrinkle and then Hinata’s hand flies to her stomach, “We,” she corrects herself, “we will be w-waiting.”

Naruto smiles, lets out a snort before he rolls over and lets his elbows rest at her sides. He kisses her face, her neck, he sits and lets his hand come up in front of him, right over Hinata’s tummy.

“Daddy’s going,” he whispers against her clothes and then comes up again for one last kiss. “Go back to sleep.”

Hinata nods but sits and follows with her eyes as he grabs his bag.

Naruto checks his things before sighing and getting a shawl he then wraps around her body. “See if you can and get some more sleep, okay?”

Hinata nods again and her hands grip the shawl around her with too much force. Naruto notices and moves his hands over hers, “Hey,” he calls, his voice low, full of sleep and wishes, “I love you.”

A last kiss on her lips and then he looks at her eyes. “I’ll be back before you even get to miss me.”

He leaves and Hinata feels his absence immediately after. What a lie.

She misses him already.

•····························•····························•

His group waits outside the inner compound. With their bags ready and a look in their eyes that leaves nothing to chance.

They ride a carriage and Shino’s bugs let out a soft hum that helps Naruto drift off into a series of naps before the sun hits his face.

They stop, eat, talk about their plans making sure no one listens, then ride again and keep on going.

Shino’s surveillance never wanes and Ino has taken Sai as a chatting companion -with Naruto as a close second best option and Shino up to whenever he feels like sharing something-. Their travel is lengthy and without disturbances and Naruto somehow wishes something came out so he could take out his frustration on something.

Nothing happens.

And they reach the territory of the Two-Tails. Unlike what Naruto expected, no one is overly aggressive and they reach their dwellings without trouble. And all of this should make him sigh in relief, but somehow it only makes him more agitated.

“This sucks,” he says under his breath.

Ino snorts and looks around with her high ponytail following behind, “Indeed it does, my lord.”

“Just one of you is allowed inside, so Sai will be coming with me.”

Shino and Ino nod and start checking their room with professional care. Shino’s bugs fly around and Naruto can feel the buzzing outside the room already. One of his bugs crawling inside Naruto’s clothes.

“We’ll be on the lookout.”

Ino opens the window and looks around for a bird. “Yes, my lord, we’ll gather information while we wait.”

Sai remains silent and the moment they leave he shadows Naruto with a confidence that makes Naruto smile.

The One-Tail, the Two-Tails, the Four-Tails, the Six-Tails, the Nine-Tails. All in one room. It sounds like the start of a bad joke.

His territory and the Four-Tails’ are the farthest apart from here, so he knows the others will be more rested. He half expects for the Four-Tails not to appear.

A guard looks at him with a bored look Naruto returns before opening the door to the meeting.

The One-Tail, the Two-Tails and the Four-Tails stare at him and Naruto doesn’t even get to give ten full steps into the room before the Two-Tails shakes a paper in front of her.

“My lord, a pleasure to meet you, the Six-Tails is dead.”

Naruto snorts at her tone, walks the rest of the way to a seat away from all of them and lets his hand come to his chin. The Two-Tails locks eyes with him and Naruto tilts his head.

“Oh.” He says.

#naruto #naruhina #Naruto Uzumaki #Hinata Hyuga #uzumaki naruto #hyuga hinata #fanfiction #fanfic #beast tamers #ch.10 #part 4 #Changed the text divider! I like this one better because it gives off a nicer look (?)#Also off we go to meet the Beast Tamers!!#Take care and see you next week!

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pit-and-the-pen · 3 years ago

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Chapter 4

Just a short chapter to kick off my ideas for this series! Hope you enjoy!

A knock on Fred’s door interrupted him from a rather pleasant dream, the smell of apples faintly being chased away as he stirred awake. “Go away” He grumbled as loudly as he could muster before pulling a spare pillow over his head and rolling over onto his stomach.

“You’re late for training.” George calls from the other side of the door. Fred just groaned loudly and swore. He’d never hear the end of this from the guys. Trudging out of bed, he threw on whatever clothes he touched first. Deciding he could put together a better outfit later. His training gear would cover it anyways.

Walking out of the door, George whistles lowley when Fred passes him. A cup of warm coffee was shoved into his hands by George. Fred’s not normally a coffee drinker, but grimaces and downs the small cup anyways. “Boy, you would think you stayed up the whole night.” George laughed at Fred’s disheveled appearance. “She even got you home at a reasonable time and everything.” He laughs a little louder at the slightly starstruck look that takes over his brother's face at the mention of last night. He claps his brother over the shoulder. “Look at you, losing sleep over a pretty face.”

Fred winds up to argue back before George holds his hands up. “Mate, it’s a good look on you. Well not right now obviously but overall.” George winks at his brother as they start to walk down the pathway outside to the training arena. “I haven’t seen you that lively since Bill was crowned.” Fred really wants to argue but he can’t, he knows he became a stiff the moment he became next in line.

He remembers how him and George used to run rampant through the castle, pulling as many pranks as they possibly could. Minerva or even their mother yelling after them. The thought brings a smile to Fred’s face. How much of a simpler time that was. Back before they were looking face down at a war. Before his father’s problems we’re thrown into his lap because, in all reality, Bill wants nothing to do with them. The same way that Charlie had wriggled out under the guise of helping peace relations in Romania. The same way that Percy left the weight on Fred’s shoulders by being a royal face on the front and getting so good at raising morale that they decided to keep him exactly where he was.

Plus, as much as everyone loved Percy, he cared too much about how he was perceived to make a great king. He would be too powerful in the wrong hands and the family had its fair share of people that would take full advantage of that fact before the crown even touched his head. He. realized he had been silent for a little too long and just sighed.

“Sorry George. I know I’m no fun anymore.” His brother nudged him in the ribs.

“Whoever said you were fun in the first place eh?” George said in such a serious tone it made Fred pause. He saw the look on his brother's face and realized the joke had gone right over his head. I really do need to lighten up. He thought to himself and chuckled at his brother.

Running a hand through his hair a small pang of sadness hits him harder than he thought it would’ve. He’s really just lost so much of himself by the prospect of being king someday. And he really knows it’s just a matter of time. The entire family is waiting with baited breath for Bill to finally run off with Fleur. They keep getting closer every day and it’s only a matter of time until the couple run off to the hills of France. Fred mentally curses at the thought. Bill isn’t doing it to be selfish, he knows that but Fred will be damned if he lets George suffer through everything he’s going through. If it becomes Fred’s turn he’s bringing them through a war and he’s never been more terrified at that idea.

Fred walks down to the arena in a bit of haze. His thoughts run all over the place. Worse case scenario, one after the other, plays in his mind. How they don’t have enough bodies to fight a war. About how everyone will hate him when he has to draft. The kingdom falling because Fred couldn’t make the important calls at the right time. It’s enough to make him wish that he had stayed in bed.

Before he realizes it, he’s stepping onto the gravel rink of the training arena. Trying to clear his head with a small shake, he realizes he can spiral later. Right now, he’s doing what he can. Everything else for now can wait. This is what he needs to do to play his part. Keep an eye out for who has leadership potential.

With the Triwizard tournament coming up, currently being worked up and finalized as he stands here, he needs to keep a clear head. Does he think that right now is not the time for all the usual pageantry? Of course, but for now, it’s not his call to make and he’s grateful for that. He just falls in line and takes his orders when they are given. George gives him a firm pat on his back as he takes his usual spot on the bleachers, pulling out a large book and a quill. Ready to take notes down to report back to Bill. As he expected, there are a few lears and teases about his tardiness, comments he brushes off with a shrug. A few comments on seeing him with someone last night and he quickly shuts down that line of thinking.

He pairs the men off into their small sparing groups. Deciding that he didn’t trust his own reflexes today, he informs them he wants to work on non-wand fighting.

“Why would we do that when we have wands?” A voice calls out from the crowd. He sighs heavily. Of course these knob heads would think that.

“What are you going to do if your wand gets lost, or heaven forbid, were to break in the middle of a fight?” He squints at the man that questioned him. “Are you going to run in the middle of a fight because of that? No. That’s why this is just as an important skill as dueling.” Fred pats the longsword currently resting on his hip. A few people from the crowd chuckle. They just assume it’s for show. He notices a few of the men looking behind him as he’s speaking. He sends a glance over his shoulder and he wants to curse from the sight in front of him. None other than Draco Malfoy. Loud and proud, standing like he owns the damn place.

He bites back the eye roll and gestures to his men. “Work amongst yourselves for a moment.” He looks at the defiant faces. “With wands if it’s that damn important to you.” He says dismissively but with a tone that says this isn’t the last of that conversation.

The relationship with the Malfoy family and the Royal family is rocky to say the least. They were part of the group that broke off and tried to become important in the Dark Lord's personal court, before it crumbled, of course. They were also some of the loudest opponents for the Weasley family to become the ruling family and decided to let that little detail fuel every one of their actions for the last fifty years. They did all of this while trying to worm their way into the most powerful positions. Much to Fred’s displeasure to admit, Lucius had managed to redeem himself quite well and from that Draco grew up just as good as a prince would have.

“To what do I owe the displeasure of your presence Draco?” Fred sighed out. Not bother to care about diplomacy. There was something about the boy that just made his blood boil, too many smart comments aimed at his fathers competency when they were in school together he reckons. Malfoy just scoffs, pointing his head high in the air as he always does.

“I was sent from the castle to come and get you. Important meeting apparently.” His voice full of discontent, obviously not liking being sent to run errands.

“And why are you even in the kingdom again?” Fred taunts. “Front line too scary for you?”

Once again Malofy scoffs. “They pulled Potter and I both out last week. That’s all that I know. Sent in replacements and everything.” Draco raises an eyebrow at Fred’s shocked expression. “Do you not even know what’s going on in your own kingdom? I thought they would be filling you in before him at this point.” He laughs and Fred lunges forward. Grabbing the shiny armor that Draco is wearing. Proof of how little he actually had seen of battle.

“Woah. Not here Freddie” George says, coming to pry Malfoy out of Fred’s grip. Fred looks back at the group of men currently inspecting every detail of this interaction.

“Better watch that temper, your majesty.” Malfoy spits out before Fred lets him go, giving him a large shove to get some distance between the two of them. He watches with a small smirk as the blond stumbles back and takes a second to regain his footing.

Fred turns to the crowd, not even bothering to pretend they haven't just seen the interaction. “Well looks like you have been saved from a boring day.” Fred addresses them. “You’re dismissed but we’re doing double training to make up for this interruption.” He calls and claps his hands, letting everyone know they’re dismissed.

There are a few groans from among the crowd but after the little show Fred put on no one thinks it smart to try to test his patience at the moment.

I’ve tried to get this up three times and tumblr has decided to hate me so sorry if the formating is a little off. I tried to fix it but I’m terrible at editing if you havent noticed already.

Taglist: (some wont tag so if you changed urls and still want to be tagged please let me know!) @they-write-once-in-a-while @magical-spit @birdie-writes @ickle-ronniekins @heart-of-tempered-steel @wand3ringr0s3 @thoseofgreatambition @things-that-start-with-f @elf-punk @bitchywhisperswizard @a-little-too-much @izzytheninja @kpopgirlbtssvt @shadowsinger11 @harrysweasleys

#dont underestimate me #royal harry potter #ROYAL AU #royal!au #oc character #harry potter oc #fred weasley #george weasley

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dacreshoney · 4 years ago

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Medici Imagine - Y/N Maddalene de Pazzi

@magicalsaladnacho Lorenzo De medici request - where reader is a Pazzi but Lorenzo falls for her and they convince her to marry him instead of their proposed Giorlamo Riario. unknowingly she is marrying him for love and not for their greed.

Summary: you are Y/N Maddalena d Pazzi, sister of Francesco and Guglielmo, you have been friends with Bianca de medici since you were children, you were very fond of her and Guglielmo, often helping them sneak out to meet each other and hiding their secret for Jacopo. Your family are holding their famous ball in honour of their bank, in which they notice a certain someone has the eyes for you. The Pazzi family try to make it work inter favour, unknowingly to them that you feel the same as Lorenzo, what will this do to the future of The Pazzi family and Florence?

Lorenzo x reader

Fanfic: Medici

Tonight was the infamous grand soiree that The Pazzi family held every few months after a great accomplishment in the bank, the family were achieving higher than they ever thought with Francesco back in the business. And you well, with your beauty and knowledge, you brought the family a lot of wealthy suiters and buyers, little you didn't liked being your families pawn in their games for money and power you knew this was your part in which you had to play. Bianca had come round to help you with your gown for the ball, you'd often meet each other in your homes, you had been friends since being little children, you were a little older then Bianca, by 2 years, at 19 years of age you were one of the most beautiful maidens in Florence. Everyone wanted you, but you didn't have eyes for any of them. There was only one person who'd ever made you feel like you weren't some stupid little girl in a world of power hungry men, who made you feel as if you only mattered. Lorenzo de medici was definitely a catch, but he had many women at his beck and call, the continuous flirting was just a friendly thing you had for years, you knew nothing would come of it. He was your best friends brother after all and older than you at the age of 23.

“Y/N, hello, are you even listening to me, what are you thinking of?” Bianca said as she pulled at your corset, tightening it, every inch of it hugging your curves, you may have only been 19 but you had the body of a goddess. You snapped out of your daydream, looking at yourself in the mirror, your raven dark hair and piercing eyes to match. “oh, nothing Bianca, just much to do before tonight that's all, my uncle has set me some tasks to do, in which I need to ask your brother Lorenzo a favour”

Bianca giggled, as she turned you to face her, finishing off the last touches to your beautiful gown, “Lorenzo huh, you sure Jacopo asked you to speak to him or are you seeking him out for your own pleasures” Bianca grinned, you gently pushed at her shoulders, her mocking was a daily thing of hers, the idea of you and Lorenzo together made her happy, for whatever reason that was I do not know. “you Bianca are a sore tease, where would you ever get such a thought” you winked, turning to face the mirror on your mantlepiece, you had often looked at yourself in this same mirror, if only your mother could see you, would she be proud of you, the woman you are becoming. Your brothers Francesco and Guglielmo often spoke of how much you resembled her, your mother was just as beautiful and admired by many men. You stood there for a moment taking it all in, before Bianca hurried you to come downstairs, the guests were arriving.

You made your way through to the courtyard of the Plaza, the air filled with the smell of strong cologne from all the old men gathering together, you made your way down the spiralling stairs, cradling the banister with your hands, your brothers smiling up at you and making their way towards you. Francesco reaching out to grab your hand, placing a gentle Kiss on your hand and spoke, “you look beautiful dear sister, we see we already have every man with their eyes on you, lucky for us..” Guglielmo interrupted as he took you in his arms, “she isn't a chess piece Francesco, she's our sister, treat her like it”. You smiled at him, Guglielmo never teated you like some part of the Pazzi game, you were his sister and you were very special to him, even with him being a year younger than you he tried his best to take care of you. “at least one of you treats me like a human, thank you Guglielmo” you all walked towards Jacopo, who just stared at you nodding, you knew he wanted the information on the leases of the medici bank in his hands, however this was not you plan, but Jacopo was a difficult man in which you had to try your best to please. “now dear sister, you know what you part in this is right” Francesco urged, Guglielmo dropping his head and looks at you with care. You pulled your arms away from them promptly, looking Francesco right in the eyes with anger, “yes Francesco, I know what I need to do, now please, just go”.

The night went on, Lorenzo was no where to be seen, his brother however Guiliano and his mother Lucrezia stood by the fountains with Bianca, enjoying their wine as they raised a glass over to you. As you turn, you spot Lorenzo coming in through the double gated doors, his hair windswept, but still looking as good as ever. He always had a sparkle in his eye, as you turned, your hair curved your face just perfectly, your smile curved and locking your eyes straight with his, never losing focus.

You tried to make your way over to him before a couple of men stand in your way, pushing themselves on you, you could smell the ale on their breaths, you did well not to gag at the smell, you pushed one man as far as you could before aiming for the knife in your sleeve, before you could, Lorenzo urged his way over to you, shoving all three men away and standing his ground right in front of you. “I suggest you men leave, Y/N maddalene de Pazzi already has a date for tonight” Lorenzo spoke, all three men hurried away from you, Lorenzo turned to you and placed his hand on your face, his palms cold from breeze outside.

“date huh? I though Lorenzo de medici didn't date” you laughed, pulling yourself away from him, as to say goodbye but urging him to follow you to the balcony. You knew all of Lorenzo’s weak spots, your eyes were your biggest weakness for men, you were always told that your eyes were they key to mens hearts so use them wisely.

Lorenzo POV:

My god this woman, first I come to her aid and then she uses them eyes on me, she knows my every weakness but is this just a game to her, she is a Pazzi after all. But I couldn't help but feel the way I do for her, come on Lorenzo snap out of it, she is a Pazzi, you can't go there. No matter how hard I tried to tell myself this I couldn't bring myself to let these feelings go, but I am Lorenzo de medici and she is the purest soul I've ever met. Y/N oh how you've made me want to be a different man, all I do is for you, but I can't tell you now how I feel, that's even if she feels the same way. Surely not, she's got so much ahead of her, she is young, what would she want to do with a man like me. I watched her as she left, her raven locks falling at her shoulders, I could smell her scent as she pushed herself away, the lingering smell of roses entered my lungs. Lord Jesus Christ I had to have her. I need to tell her how I feel before it’s too late.

Y/N Maddalena POV:

With that you knew you could feel Lorenzo’s eyes Burning in the back of your head, watching your every move. You made your way to the balcony, it was the most beautiful sight over Florence from there, you often would go there to think and be alone, you heard the footsteps from behind you. Lorenzo placed himself beside you, so close but neither of you touching, but the urge was there. You knew what your place was, you knew what you had to do but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. Jacopo had told you to lead Lorenzo on to gain information in regards to the medici bank so they could use it against him to tarnish the medici family. The confidence in Jacopo that a man like Lorenzo would ever fall fo just a little girl like you, that man could dream, but this could mean you losing to safety of your family or losing the only man that ever made you feel good, even if it was only in your eyes. You knew you had to tell him what was about to happen but You start to tear up, Lorenzo placing his hands on your chin to turn you to face him, you sniffle as you tried to wipe away the tears, before you could Lorenzo spoke softly and in worry

“Y/N what's wrong, why are you crying my love” ... “tell me, what's wrong?”

You held your head to Lorenzo’s chest, collapsing into his arms, he was shocked and happy you felt this comfortable around him, but more worried as to who or what had caused you this distress.

“Lorenzo I need to tell you something...” you spoke, but Lorenzo immediately stopped you, “no not before me, I've been meaning to tell you for a while now Y/N..” Lorenzo moved his hands up through your hair, moving it through every strand on your head, you held back with your words, intrigued by what Lorenzo had to say.

“for a long time Y/N I have pushed off these feelings for you because I've known you ever since you were a child, a childhood romance some would say, we grow out of them my father used to say, but this, with you its something else, it isn't just those flirtatious passings we have, the teasings, its the fact you are always there for me and my family, you are there to pick up the pieces, to comfort us and I can never thank you enough for what you did for Bianca when our father died. I think I love you and deep down I know I always have”

and that was it, he finally said it, those feelings rushed to your head and made your heart pound, those tears of sadness and regret were now happy ones, but before you could ease Lorenzo suffering your brother Francesco appeared from the curtains, he had been listening the whole time. He could use this to the families advantage, he grabbed you by the arm and escorted you to the courtyard where Jacopo was waiting with Riario, both smirking.

“what is this Francesco, let me go” you spat, urging your bother to let go of his grip of you. Your brother took his place by Jacopo, but before he could whisper to tell him what he had witnessed, Jacopo was to make an announcement. Lorenzo moved pass the crowd of ladies and gentlemen to see you standing there with your uncle, distressed and confused.

“today I am not only here to celebrate the business of The Pazzi bank, but to also congratulate my beautiful niece Y/N, who has gladly accepted Riario’s marriage proposal” Jacopo encouraged everyone to clap, you stood there in silence, knowing Lorenzo will have heard every word, eyes wide when you caught his, the pain you felt shattered you.

before Francesco whispered to him.

“Lorenzo has just confessed his love to Y/N uncle, we could use this to our advantage and reel him in, don't you think we should call off this arrangement and use Lorenzo instead” Francesco implied, jacapo smirked at the thought and spoke with such evil in his eyes,

“no Francesco, we keep this little arrangement and Lorenzo can lose a good ally in the Rairio family by pursing our beautiful Y/N, until she breaks his weak little heart” jacapo raised his glass to Y/N, who was stood there distraught, catching Lorenzo standing there, broken.

#medici #medici imagine #lorenzo #lorenzo de medici #lorenzodemediciimagine #daniel sharman #medicixreader

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emilia3546 · 4 years ago

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I Promise - Nessian

Nesta has been waiting for too long, she can't fly, can't fight with the legion, but making battle plans can only alleviate so much worry, Cassian was supposed to be back ages ago.

*****

Nesta paced back and forth in the tent, rubbing her palms on her leathers to try to disguise the sweat starting to form. She popped her head out of the tent, no sign. She waited ten seconds, still no sign. Where were they? Where was he? She shook her head, trying to convince herself that she was being stupid, that they would be back any moment, that they would all be fine.

Images of war and bloodshed filled her mind, the clash of steel on steel, the cries of dying soldiers, failing wingbeats as the skies emptied. She checked outside again, still no sign. They were supposed to be back an hour ago, she steadied her breaths as she fought the tears threatening to fall, wiping her face, and brushing them away, she wouldn't cry, not where people might see her.

Bloodstained swords and armor crashed through her mind, their bearers falling from the skies like flies, their faces blurred, until one fell, and fell, and fell, she couldn't tear her gaze away, not until he struck the ground, the impact sending dust all around flying. She forced herself to look, to look past the sword discarded to the side, the blood coating that black armor, the helmet fallen aside, to his face, to look past the blood, the fear, the war, to him.

Cassian.

She stumbled back into the tent, thanking all and any gods that it was empty as she sank to the ground and sobbed, pure undiluted terror racing through her veins. She lost sight of the world around her, left with just that raw grief, she spiraled through every thought she had ever had, every emotion she had ever felt, all the rage, all the fear, hiding the love, hiding the fear, hiding the hate she felt towards herself, hate for not being the one to save her sisters, hate for pushing away anyone who tried to help her, hate for hiding from the one person she should have loved with her whole heart, the one person she couldn't bear the thought of losing, the one person who was now two hours late.

A wingbeat sounded outside the tent, and Nesta ran outside, wiping her eyes, forcing a smile, all evidence of her fear vanishing at her command. She looked up to the sky, relief quickly turning to horror as three pairs of wings descended slowly, and one careened towards the ground, he was coming in too fast, he'd crash. At the last possible moment, he righted himself, pulling out of the dive to land on his feet, running the last few paces to regain his balance, Feyre, Azriel and Rhysand landing behind him. Nesta only got one glance at her baby sister before Cassian collapsed into her.

She grunted as she caught him, staggering under his unconscious weight,

"Cass? Cass! Oh gods, oh gods," she could hardly breathe under the crushing weight of the general and his armor, but she didn't care, she only cared that he was alive, alive, and she would make sure he stayed that way. "What happened!" She screamed at no one in particular, "What happened?" She repeated, brushing a lock of hair away from his face, "Is he okay?" Her panicked gaze flickered from person to person, settling on Feyre as her sister stepped towards her, Nesta didn't wait for a response before turning her gaze back to Cassian, "Please be okay," she whispered, "Please be okay,"

"He'll be okay," Feyre said, her voice breaking through the sheen of fear descending over Nesta's mind, "We were ambushed on our way back, he took the brunt of the attack." The tears that she had been fighting for so long began to fall, right in front of her sister, of her sister's mate, of Azriel. She tried to stop, to draw back the tears, but they kept falling, faster and faster, until she sobbed, her strength failing as Rhysand and Azriel took over supporting Cassian and Feyre led Nesta behind them as they carried him to the healer's tent. Nesta couldn't decide if Feyre's presence made everything worse, or better, couldn't decide if she wanted her there, or not. "Nesta," Feyre began, but Nesta didn't hear her, didn't hear anything beyond the rattling breath in his lungs, the blood dripping onto the floor.

"What can I do?" She breathed, desperate for something, something to feel useful, anything to help, to feel anything beyond this abyss of fear, of grief waiting to form, the chasm that she had shied away from for so long, it was creeping up on her, if she didn't move, didn't do something, she would fall.

"Fetch some water." The healer pointed outside, her magic clearing the blood form Cassian's armor, each stain fading and vanishing under her touch, "Most of it isn't his, now fetch some water." She snapped, stirring Nesta into action.

Nesta stumbled outside, her own breaths catching in her throat as she forced herself to breathe, to calm down. Each time she thought that she was okay, that the panic had subsided, her breaths sped up, until she could hardly force enough air into her lungs to function. She steeled her mind, throwing up wall after wall between her and, everything, between her and feeling anything.

She scooped water in a bucket, almost dropping it as the sight of Cassian splintered all the walls she had thrown up, sending them crashing back down. Feyre took the bucket from her hand, guiding her to sit down at the edge of the tent, but she pushed her away, shoving past Rhysand to reach Cassian's side, tears blurring her vision. Feyre must have brought a chair over because one moment she was standing next to him, and the next she was crying, crying, in front of everyone, her sister a steady presence at her side, squeezing her shoulder gently, just to remind her that she was there, would always be there.

Nesta brushed her fingers through Cassian's hair, Feyre positioning herself between them so that Nesta didn't see when the healers pulled his armor away, didn't see the injuries that it concealed, the miracles that the healers worked, binding flesh back together, bringing him back from the brink of death.

"Take him back to his tent, it'll be quieter there." Nesta followed silently as Rhysand and Azriel carried Cassian between them, leaning on Feyre's shoulder as she walked, her feet heavy, dragging in the mud. She perched on the edge of the bed the moment they set him down, watching his chest rise and fall, reassuring herself that it would continue to do so, that he was okay.

Nesta didn't know when she had fallen asleep. She woke to Cassian's voice,

"Nesta, sweetheart, wake up." She opened her eyes, blinking the sleep out of them, and lifted her head off Cassian's chest gently,

"Sorry," she muttered, "I should-"

"You're allowed to sleep, you know,"

"I know," She huffed, suddenly becoming aware that she was still leaning across his chest, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"This time."

"What?"

"You're alive, this time, not fine, alive, Cass, what happens next time, what happens when you're on your own, what happens if, if-" she couldn't even bring herself to voice her fear, sobbing as he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her as tight as his sore muscles would allow,

"Sweetheart, I'm okay, I'm here." He whispered,

"But you keep flying off to cauldron knows where, fighting battle after battle, what am I supposed to do when you don't come back?"

"I'm always going to come back,"

"You can't know that. I was scared today, Cass."

"What? Who scared you?" He growled, trying to sit up in the bed,

"You did. You were two hours late, I thought you - I thought you were dead. And I can't, I can't -" she broke off, her hands shaking uncontrollably as tears streaked through the dust on her face, "Don't make me do this, don't make me worry every time you step outside. I know I have no right to, but I can't, I can't lose you, I can't lose someone else I love." Shit. She'd never said it out loud, never. "Cass, I," she never finished her sentence as he lifted his head to meet hers, her tears mingling with his as he kissed her,

"I thought I would never hear that." She smiled, for the first time in days, and whispered,

"Next time I come with you, then I can look after you."

"Scare off the enemy, more like. You know even the loyal camp-lords are terrified of you, let alone the rebels."

"All the more reason for me to come then," She grinned triumphantly, laughing as he kissed her again, both hands on the sides of her face. She opened, deepening the kiss, and was still smiling when he pulled away,

"You haven't trained enough."

"Cass-"

"You'll get hurt. You can't fly. You've only actually trained for a month. You haven't had time to learn how Illyrians fight, how they wage war. The best help you can be is here, doing what you already do, making plans, keeping the Night Court from falling apart while we fight. You're not ready for open battle, not yet. Nesta, please, don't fight me on this one, you know I want you there-"

"Then let me come."

"No. You're not ready. If you fight, you die. I won't let that happen. You can make sure that we win, though, you can place us in the best positions, you can save so many lives, Nesta, please, stay here, use your mind to fight, you don't need to wield a sword to devastate our enemies." She frowned, considering,

"You can't come back late. Ever."

"I will do my best."

"Cass,"

"What? Things happen. I promise to try my best to get back on time, to get back uninjured, and to avoid worrying you as much as possible." Nesta huffed, accepting his promise but adding to it,

"Fine, but only if you promise that we will get time, together." He nodded, agreeing instantly, and she smiled before kissing him again, just a quick brush of her lips before he whispered,

"And, when we finally get some privacy after this damned rebellion, I'll fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name." She swallowed, unable to stop heat from flooding her cheeks as she looked back at him, a hint of amusement blossoming as she grinned,

"You promise?"

"I promise."

#fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #nessian #nesta #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #angst

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dirt-cup-draco · 5 years ago

Text

Sirius x Reader - We’re Family

Hello, if you are taking requests I would like to ask for a one shot of Sirius Black. Where he and the reader are reunited after his escape from Azkaban. They dated while in Hogwarts (she was a Ravenclaw) and they had a daughter together ( who likes Harry) She was always tormented on what to believe and once he returns all doubts go away and just a reunion full of angst and fluff. Thanks, sorry for the specifics. Thanks! 💙

1981 was simultaneously the best and worst year of your enitre life, as were the following years. You had been on cloud nine in the early months, living with your long time boyfriend Sirius Black. You had met in Potions class and had hit it off. Despite his reputation, he had been loyal to you since fifth year when you had become official. Every day he had shown you how dearly he loved you, you hoped he knew how much you loved him.

You remembered the day like it was yesterday. You had invited all of your dearest friends to dinner as you had an announcement to make. Not even Sirius was in on your secret, you had wanted to surprise him. James, Lily and Harry were the first to arrive, their scarves wrapped around their necks to keep them from the January chill. Harry was only seven months old but you could already see so much of his parents in him already, especially his father. You embraced Lily, kissing the top of Harry’s head as your heart soared.

Sirius and James clapped each other the backs, wide smile on their faces as Remus arrived alone, Peter not being able to make it to your get together. You kissed his cheeks as they all settled at the table, James cuddling Harry to his chest as you set to bringing all the food to the table as Sirius poured a drink for everyone, including you. You’d been so excited to tell everyone.

After everyone had their fill of food you had anxiously stood, Sirius gripping your hand and looking to you in confusion. You had seemed off all day, and you knew he noticed, eyeing your still full wine glass and the way you kept bouncing your knee. He had always been able to tell when something was different.

Everyone’s eyes had followed you and with a grin and tears already welling in your eyes you’d announced, “Sirius and I are having a baby!” You’d thought your boyfriend was going to pass out on the spot, his hand squeezing yours nearly painfully.

“We are?” He’d croaked as your friends had broken into cheers and laughter. Without notice, he was standing looking at your stomach and then back to you, kissing you with a joy you had been filled with. You hadn’t been showing yet, just enough to look bloated and it had been easy to hide but you had been relieved once they all knew.

By that September you had given birth to the most gorgeous baby girl you had ever seen. Sirius and you were happier than you’d ever been, an engagement ring placed on your finger as you had rested once your long hours of labor had ended.

Yet, by October your lives were destroyed. It had been a blur, the news that James and Lily had been given up, the Dark Lord himself taking their lives. You hadn’t even heard that Harry had survived before accusations were being thrown at Sirius for giving them up. He’d been their secret keeper after all but it hadn’t made sense. You were left with a screaming baby as her father was dragged away and imprisoned without a trial.

Sirius had been taken from you so quickly you hadn’t had time to breathe. No letters and no visitations, you weren’t even sure if he was still alive and it was a burden you carried every single day. Your daughter, Lyra, was a curious girl and as she grew up you had to face many questions about her father that you didn’t know the answer to.

Remus helped all he could but he was spiraling and you believed that seeing you and Lyra hurt more than it helped most days.

“Mom?” Your daughter called, looking over her shoulder as you had frozen on the spot.

“Coming! Go on and go through, I’ll be behind you,” You reassured as she sped forward, vanishing through the brick wall, her cat hissing in distaste.

You followed after her after giving yourself a stern talking to. The red and gold of her robes had a way of transporting you to the past and she was more like Sirius every day.

When you appeared you found her talking excitedly to Harry, a glint in her eye you knew very well. It was how you had looked at her father. “Good to see you again love,” You smiled to the bespectacled boy in front of you, kissing his forehead with the motherly love he so wished to have. You ached for his loss, you knew if James and Lily were still here he wouldn’t go a day wishing for anything.

“Good to see you too Ms. Y/L/N.” Despite the ring that remained on your finger after twelve draining years you were not legally his wife, nor could you damn your daughter with the Black name. You knew Sirius was not his family, and deep down you knew he was innocent but the kids at school would certainly be relentless if their parents told them who your father was.

You and Lyra shopped for her school supplies, you trying not to get caught in the past. You snapped back to it when your daughter let out a deep sigh. “Mom can we please go one year without you going completely silent? I want to have fun...” She pleaded and you felt as if she had stabbed you in the heart. This hadn’t been easy for her and you hadn’t been handling the loss of Sirius as well as you hoped.

“Sorry darling, you’re right,” You gave her a tight smile but pulled her into a grounding hug, feeling more like yourself.

After getting her supplies she dragged you to The Three Broomsticks, claiming Ron and his parents were there with Harry and Hermione. You hadn’t ever been close to Molly or Arthur but the moment you walked in Arthur was staring you with startled eyes. He was tense as he looked to Molly, a pitying look on her face as Lyra broke away from you to go speak to her friends.

“Y/N,” Arthur said your name carefully as if you were a caged animal he was approaching with caution. “I would like to speak to you,”

You were already feeling nervous form his somber expression. “What is it Arthur? Is something wrong with the kids?” You were curious, not having many things to talk about.

“As you know I work for the ministry and it has come to my attention that... Well...” Arthur bumbled and your heart pounded uncomfortably.

“Come out with it then,” You ordered.

Arhtur lowered his voice to where you had to lean in to hear him but when you heard what he had to say you wished you hadn’t. You paled, the air cut off to your lungs for a moment before you started hyperventilating.

Sirus Black has escaped Azkaban, I believe his motive is to....well, to kill Harry. Please look out for Lyra, I think she might be in danger too.

The news that Sirius escaped was unthinkable but even more so ridiculous was the notion that he would want to harm Harry, let alone his own daughter. Your vision was growing dark and Arthur was helping you to a seat as Lyra appeared in front of you.

“Mom?” She asked carefully as you gripped her hands in yours and tried to slow your breathing. Focus, you don’t want her to see you like this.

“Sorry darling, I don’t know what came over me,” You sniffled and fell heavy into the inn chair as Arthur found his place besides Molly as you spoke with your daughter. “It must just be that your growing up so fast,” You lied, hand stroking her dark hair lovingly.

“Are you alright?” She asked as the color slowly made its way back into your face.

“Of course, I’m fine,” You rubbed at the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “No go on, I’m sorry for worrying you, I’m alright,” You promised as she left your side after embracing you. She had a heart of gold, as in tune to your emotions as Sirius was.

It was some time later that the news of Sirius breaking into the castle had reached your ears. You didn’t want to give in to Arthur’s thoughts but the doubts had started to sink in. If Sirius was innocent and free, why hadn’t he come to you first? Why hadn’t he tried to contact you yet? You had been sending Lyra letters frequently, trying to make sure she was safe.

You didn’t honestly think that Sirius would be capable of hurting anyone and you prayed that was still true. You knew he was innocent but twelve years in Azkaban, you couldn’t imagine what that did to a person.

When there was a knock at your door some days later you were sitting in your living room, sipping nervously at some tea. Since the beginning of the school year you had been a nervous wreck. You hadn’t slept well since Arthur had spoke to you and the insomnia got worse all the time. What if Sirius was at the door?

You made your way to the door as another knock echoed through your silent home, peeping through the hole you weren’t sure if it was disappointment or relief you felt at the sight of Remus Lupin. You opened the door and he rushed in.

“Why haven’t you been responding to my letters?” You demanded as he shook his coat off of his form.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He snapped back, shoulders tense as he looked at the wounded look in your eye. “I’m sorry Y/N, there is just a lot we need to talk about, I think I know what happened,”

“You mean-?”

“Sirius is innocent.” Remus confirmed.

You let out a choked sob as your hands shook and you rushed to Remus, wrapping your arms tight around him. “How?” You cried.

“It was... It was Peter,” Remus growled, still wondering how his friend could betray them all in such a grievous way. Remus rubbed your back but you pulled away, the both of you tense.

“Is it true? He’s at hogwarts?” You asked, biting your nails. “Has he seen Lyra? Oh Merlin... Why didn’t he come home Rem?”

Remus’ eyes were stormy. “Peter is there too, disguised as a rat and Sirius and I have been trying to find a way to end his miserable, pathetic life,” Remus spat. “It will happen soon, and he has to clear his name before he can come back here,”

You couldn’t believe it. “I need to see him,” You pleaded with your long time friend.

“We can’t have you there...” Remus tried to let you down gently but you weren’t having any of it.

“I have to be there! He is my daughter’s father and the love of my life Remus! I have waiting every single night wishing and praying he would find his way back home and every day terrified that he was dead. I have been barely hanging on these twelves years and if it wasn’t for Lyra, I-I don’t think I would’ve made it this long,” You tried to hold your emotion at bay but it was all too much.

Remus hated seeing you this way, you were family to him. “Y/N, darling, please don’t cry,” He sighed. “I suppose I could bring you to Hogwarts with me... Merlin, I’ve done enough to put my career in the dumpster,” He sighed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

You hugged him with all the gratitude you had in your body. “Thank you,”

A short time later you were chasing Remus to the shrieking shack, Sirius having dragged poor Ron down into the space you and your friends had claimed during Remus’ years at Hogwarts to help manage his shifting into a werewolf.

Your heart was thudding in your chest as you entered the musty bedroom, Ron wincing in pain as Sirius stood gaunt as his eyes flashed dangerously to Peter Pettigrew who was standing behind a dilapidated piano, Severus Snape slumped on a bed that looked like it was two seconds away from turning to dust.

“Lyra, darling please leave,” You pleaded, ignoring Sirius’ speech to Peter, his voice rough and unfamiliar, tainted with a hatred. He paused in his tracks however as he heard your voice, clear as a bell ringing through the agony and darkness he’d been living in and then the name of his beloved daughter, the one he hadn’t had any proper time with.

“Mom?” Lyra’s voice shook as she had her wand out, eyes wide and fear in her eyes as she looked at Sirius, not knowing who it was that stood before her.

“Come here sweetheart, he won’t hurt you, come here,” You pleaded with her and she nodded bolting to you as you wrapped her in your arms, muttering soothing things to her as she shook.

“Take her away from here,” Remus instructed, squeezing your shoulder. Your eyes went to Sirius as he was distracted by the sight of you and his darling child, your ring still sparkling. It gave him some hope. Yet in his moment of distraction, Peter tried bolting away. Sirius lunged forward and You pulled Lyra out of the room as the conflict in the room rose.

“He was going to kill us mom!” She wailed as you tugged her onto the school grounds, the moonlight shining down on you.

“No, sweetheart, he wouldn’t ever do that,” You got choked up realizing she only knew Sirius Black as a killer and not the man that had held her like she was glass and looked at her like there was nothing more precious in the world. “I’ve made so many mistakes Lyra,” You teared up. “I owe you the truth,”

“Mom?” Lyra asked as you held her with shaking hands.

“That man, Sirius, he isn’t who you think he is. He is innocent, there is not a bad bone in him, do you hear me?” You asked and she shook her head.

“I don’t understand!”

“Sirius Black was framed for the murder of some of my best friends,” You admitted, chest growing tight. “Harry’s parents.”

Lyra nodded, following.

“He was my best friend too, he was far more than that,” Lyra’s eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe it. “Sirius and I dated all through school, after we graduated we stayed together and we eventually had you,”

Lyra pulled away from you, the confusion of the day becoming far too much for her. “Liar,” She muttered.

“I’m not lying, sweetheart Sirius is innocent, your dad is innocent,”

“He isn’t my dad!” She screamed. “He isn’t innocent! He is going to kill someone in there, that isn’t right!”

“Peter isn’t innocent! He’s a murderer and if you should hate anyone hate him!” You tried to reason with her. “We were a happy family before Sirius took the fall for his crimes...”

“If I’m going to hate anyone it should be you!” She cried, “How can you defend a man like that?” Lyra was pacing and you wanted nothing more than to gather her in a hug and soothe her even if her words had been a knife to your heart.

“Lyra-” You began but she cut you off.

“No! You don’t get to talk. You have been lying to me all of my life,” She hissed. “I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say, now get out of my way so I can go save my friends,”

She pushed past you, going to enter the whomping willow but then all of the occupants were spilling out in a fight. Hermione supported Ron with the help of Harry as Sirius and Remus chased the mousy man that had escaped. Sirius was slow behind them but in was a chaotic few moments as Peter changed back into a rat, snickering as Sirius failed to catch him.

He was distracted however as the clouds parted to reveal the full moon, shining bright and menacingly over Remus. He held his friend close, trying to keep him present but it was no use against the lycanthropy. You watched as Snape guarded the kids. Sirius noticed and changed into a dog as Remus shifted, his grey skin pulled tight against his reformed bones. He howled a chilling howl and you felt Lyra reach for you as Sirius distracted Remus, the werewolf in him fighting back as he followed Sirius.

Your heart dropped as you heard a distant yelp. “Severus!” You called to the boy you had vaguely known once. “Watch her!” You directed, gesturing to Lyra as you chased after one of your closest friends and the of your life. You were surprised when Harry ran up beside you.

“He’s my godfather,” He said in way of explanation.

“He’s Lyra’s dad,” You croaked and Harry didn’t seem to be surprised, just noting the similarities.

It seemed an eternity later as you were gathered in the courtyard, Sirius leading Buckbeak by a thick chain as Harry and Hermione landed beside him. You were shaking with anticipation as he went straight for you, Harry walking past you as you embraced to go to Lyra, talking to her in a low voice.

“Y/N, darling oh how long it’s been,” Sirius said, wrapping his arms so tightly around you thought you might be crushed.

“I never stopped waiting for you,” You cried, clutching him back just as hard.

“Have you ever seen her this happy?” Harry asked Lyra as she watched her mother hug a man she had thought a killer, but found to be her missing father, with trepidation.

“No,” She admitted bitterly as you sobbed into Sirius’ chest, your body shaking with emotion. “I mean, she tries to be happy but I’ve never seen her like this....”

“He’s a good man,” Harry said as he brushed a lock of hair out of Lyra’s eyes. “My parents trusted him, loved him. He was named my godfather. I trust him too, it’s why ‘Mione and I saved him. Sirius isn’t a killer.... Give him a chance,”

Lyra had a lot to think about.

“I don’t want you to go,” You pleaded with Sirius.

“With Peter gone, my name isn’t cleared yet and yours is the first place they will look...” He sighed, nuzzling his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry my love,”

“I-I understand,” You agreed. “But I need to be in contact with you, if it’s safe. It’s been so long Siri... I need to know you’re safe and Lyra doesn’t know it yet but she’ll come to forgive you...”

“I’m not so sure,” Sirius sighed, glancing at his daughter who was in deep conversation with his godson. “But I do have a plan... sort of. I want Harry to live with me during the summer. Grimmauld Place is still mine. You and Lyra could stay with me too,” He looked hopeful and chanced a smile even if he hadn’t practiced personal hygiene for over a decade. You hurt for him.

“Of course,” you said immediately. “I want to be with you... I want Lyra to know you,”

“Only Merlin knows if she ever will forgive me,” Sirius sighed but Harry made his way over to you, Lyra sulking behind him.

He gave her a playful nudge and she glared, staring at the floor. “I guess you have to go, that’s what Harry was saying anyway. Sorry I thought you, well you know, murdered people” She mumbled. “My mom seems to love you and Harry thinks your worth giving a shot. I just have to say a few things,” She continued. “You being gone killed my mother, and you may be my father but you have a lot to make up for. I swear to god if you ever break her heart like that again I’ll hate you forever,”

“Lyra!” You scolded at the cruel words from your daughter.

“No, Y/N, she’s right,” Sirius agreed. “I can’t make you love me, I have a lot to make up for that much is true. I can’t do all I want to but I will start trying to keep in contact with your mother- and you, Lyra, if you’ll let me.”

Lyra thought on a moment but nodded slowly as Harry cleared his throat, prompting her.

“And Harry, my time is running short here but I would like to ask you to give the honor of being your guardian. After the school year ends, would you like to live with me?” The boy’s eyes bugged out of his head and you rubbed Sirius’ back in a show of approval of his decision.

Harry nodded quickly as him and Sirius broke away to speak privately with him.

“Mom,” Lyra said softly, drawing your eyes from your fiance back to her. “I didn’t mean what I said... I don’t hate you,” She was guarded and upset but still couldn’t handle being at odds with you.

You teared up and she pulled you against her. When had your little girl become your rock? “I’m so, so, sorry,” You choked out.

“It’s alright,” Lyra comforted. “We’re family, and if that guy makes you happy then I’m willing to try and see him as part of the family too... Just give me time,”

“You can take all the time you need sweetheart,” You promised, feeling more stable than you had in twelve years.

#sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #dad!sirius x reader #sirius black x pregnant!reader #sirius black x mom!reader #fluff #angst #ask #request #anon #anon ask

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ladyfawkes · 4 years ago

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FINALLY!!! AN UPDATE!!! Lol. Nice long one, too. Post-Cassandra's Revenge AU. Grievous injuries occur to more than one character during Cassandra's fight for magical dominance. These afflictions won’t become manifest until after they’ve left the Tower, however.

In the aftermath from Cassandra's Revenge at Black Rock Tower, Eugene is trying to use his rare alone time to process all that had happened. Thankfully, he has Lance to keep him grounded with his own irksome ways.

One enormous weight had been lifted and Eugene's psyche was flying because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rapunzel reciprocated all of his feelings for her. He also witnessed exactly to what lengths Rapunzel would move heaven and earth to fight for him.

Amongst his euphoria for Rapunzel, however, he must also figure out how to forgive Cassandra for all that she’s done.

Chapter 3 Summary:

Although Eugene had originally explained that he wasn't otherwise affected by his experiences from yesterday at Black Rock Tower, today was proving out much differently.

Eugene had tried valiantly to keep things from Rapunzel in order to save her more grief. Yet he had to quickly make the determination to tell her everything instead, due in large part to Lance’s prodding. Nobody had known it at the time, but Eugene’s affliction symptoms would soon send him spiraling too quickly. Unfortunately for Eugene, he would be caught up within the throes of the fight's aftermath before he could ever tell Rapunzel anything else. Or even confess privately to Lance. He was no longer capable of giving an explanation about anything to anyone.

What, exactly, had happened to him and who was to blame?

CHAPTER THREE MEA CULPA, TUA CULPA, NOSTRA CULPA

Approximately 40 minutes later, Lance, Rapunzel, Varian, and Eugene had sat down for tea. And although Eugene had originally told Rapunzel that the new scars didn’t hurt, the skin around them had definitely become more sensitized overnight. It’s why earlier he had practically jumped out of his skin even at Rapunzel’s lightest of touches. But he didn’t want Rapunzel to worry needlessly and he wasn’t entirely sure if the sensation was real or if he was just in a state of hyper-awareness and imagining things that weren’t there. However, since their confrontation in Eugene’s room, the presumed-healed wounds were even stinging and smarting somewhat, quite unlike before. Again, Eugene wrestled internally with the idea of telling her about what was happening or not. He finally decided that after tea, he should take Rapunzel aside and tell her about this latest development.

During the past several minutes, Eugene had barely touched even a morsel of his hors d'oeuvres, much less anything more substantial. That was not at all characteristic of his notoriously healthy appetite. At the present, he preferred instead to sip absently from the same cup of tea. Before long everyone at the table kept giving him surreptitious double-takes. Certain he must’ve been imagining it, Eugene turned away from the group and laid down his head, pillowing it against his elbow on the table…..and he was still barely touching that teacup.

Moderately taken aback by Eugene’s abrupt change in mood, the rest of them simply let him alone for the time being. Although still a sensitive person, Eugene wasn’t usually quite so moody anymore. In fact, Lance quite liked to tease Eugene about how his once formerly nihilistic professional thief friend had instead become a rather insufferable eternal optimist. The rest of the group wordlessly seemed to agree that whatever was happening would perhaps blow over soon and Eugene would be back to his normal self in no time.

Little did his friends know that at this very moment, Eugene had been additionally and shockingly swept up in the personal hell of biting back against rather sudden and excruciating pain emanating from his core. Red hot burning sensations now simultaneously emanated from and rippled outward from the new impalement scars; they had quickly forged a web of blazing pain over the entire surface of his skin. So rapidly tuned out was he that Eugene became practically oblivious to the world around him. As each corresponding wave of burning sensations caused him more pain, he subsequently had to fight mounting nausea, overheating, and dizziness. What was being fought from within him was now manifesting outwardly upon Eugene’s face, deepening his complexion to an alarming shade of crimson. Something Eugene’s friends hadn’t yet witnessed was him taking on the shocking appearance of one who had been stricken with extreme sunburn -- over the entire surface of his body. After all, Eugene had turned his back and covered his head with his jacket.

Some mysterious internal source of heat had arisen within Eugene, almost as if his body were trying to fight off something particularly nasty and virulent. And although earlier he’d promised to tell Lance and Rapunzel the story behind why he thought he’d received his newest scars, Eugene was currently in no shape to tell them anything, especially now, as he’d fallen silent with the rapid spiking of his internal temperature.

The young man had become so light-headed, overheated, and overburdened with pain that he could hardly think, much less speak intelligibly. Oh lord, it’s so hot, was one of Eugene’s only lucid thoughts.

At this point in time, he was finding it impossible to merely sit at the table without needing to fall sideways off the chair or slump bodily over the table. He was additionally getting so annoyed with all the racket surrounding him...the bits that penetrated his thickened consciousness and brain fog, anyway….why couldn’t the people around the table just stop yelling, already?? Eugene wished they all would just shut the hell up, and stop clanking their silverware on the dishes so loudly. That way, his ears would stop ringing and he’d have a better chance of getting his head to stop pounding a little. Although his back was toward his companions, they noted his non-verbal mounting signs of distress nonetheless. Rapunzel had stood up out of her seat and walked around the table to check on him. She lightly touched his shoulder from behind.

Without any outward indication he’d noticed her, Eugene greatly startled Rapunzel and everyone at the table as he clapped his hands over the ringing in his ears and shot up unsteadily out of his seat. He attempted an announcement to the entire table his intention to leave and take refuge in his bedroom until he felt better. Yet before he could complete any of the words coming out of his mouth, Eugene’s eyes rolled back in his head and he suddenly collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Everyone in the dining hall simultaneously expressed alarm and dismay upon seeing Eugene’s current condition.

‘--Gene!’” was the only panic-stricken syllable that Rapunzel managed to utter in that moment. Before the princess could even fully comprehend what was happening, Eugene’s chin slammed into the edge of the hard wooden table in front of him. The princess sprang into action and managed to catch Eugene before he could cause himself any further injury. Everyone at the table began chattering worriedly at once, wondering how it was that Eugene could go from looking perfectly healthy just minutes ago to outright fainting and turning red as a sunburn victim.

“Lance!” called Rapunzel. Lance made it to Eugene instantly, saying, “On it, dear Princess,” as he took up his friend Eugene’s side opposite Rapunzel and the pair laid the distressed young man on the cool marble floor of the dining hall. Varian had dutifully sprinted from the large hall, having volunteered to go summon the palace surgeon. They needed to see what, if anything, could be done for Eugene. And hopefully even get some insight as to his current condition.

Right now, blood was gushing from a superficial wound in Eugene’s chin where his skin had split open upon making contact with the unyielding table. Rapunzel had ordered one of the kitchen servants to bring her a bowl of cold water and several clean serviettes. This, of course, was done immediately. The princess took one serviette, folded over a corner, dipped it in the clean water, and pressed it against Eugene’s chin wound. It was only then he began to stir a little. He had turned his head enough to dislodge the cloth, which in turn caused Rapunzel to shift and firmly press the cloth back upon the wound.

“That huuuurts,” Eugene whimpered semi-consciously, feebly attempting to push away Rapunzel’s ministering hands with one of his own.

“I’m sure it does,” soothed Rapunzel, running her hand across his fevered brow. She looked up at Lance with deep concern, “He is positively burning up. Could you soak another cloth for me and press it against his forehead, please?”

“Sure thing, Princess,” answered Lance, and did what Rapunzel requested.

That much cold moisture coming into contact with Eugene’s reddened overheated face, however, nearly succeeded in fully rousing the unconscious young man. Their charge soon settled down, however, as Lance restrained one of Eugene’s flailing arms and Rapunzel restrained the other.

“Lance,” Rapunzel queried worriedly, “do you have any idea about what might be causing this curious overheating within him? And do you know anything about those new scars that he hasn’t yet told me?”

“The only thing I know for certain, Princess, is that he received these marks yesterday during the time, ah….Cassandra…..was squeezing him with rocks? -- whatever that meant.” Rapunzel’s eyes grew larger than saucers and Lance couldn’t hold her gaze. “But he did say he….” even Lance was having difficulty finishing the explanation in the same place where Eugene had, though Lance had originally been the one goading his friend into telling the Princess, “....he did say he had literally felt himself get run through in four places whilst being held onto by those rocks.” Rapunzel’s complexion noticeably paled, even in the bright afternoon sunlight of the dining hall.

“No…..please….no…..” she whispered, wilting before Lance’s eyes in spite of her obvious desire to remain strong for Eugene.

“But -- but he also was positively adamant and was almost certain that Cassandra wasn’t the one responsible,” Lance fibbed, not wanting to see Rapunzel’s confidence falter. “And that’s all I know,” he said in a rush, before he could descend any deeper. This little white lie of Eugene being sure it wasn’t Cass felt practically necessary right now.

“Really?” asked Rapunzel hopefully. Suddenly Lance understood why Eugene would do anything to keep Rapunzel from being disappointed or feeling betrayed, especially when it comes to Cassandra. “I wonder why Eugene wanted to keep this from me, though….” she mused to herself.

“The only reason he didn’t tell you is because Eugene knew how worried you would become if you had even one inkling that Cass had actively tried to kill him. His sincerest wish was to keep you from experiencing even more distress.”

Rapunzel looked down at her intended and ran her free hand lovingly through his hair. “And to think, I was upset with him for keeping it secret….I should've known he was merely trying to shield me. Dearest Eugene….what’s happening to you right now? If only I could’ve asked you sooner….” her eyes grew moist and she said to Lance, "he’s forever the protector, even when he’s the one in worse danger, or the one who’s truly suffered --”

“Princess Rapunzel?” An authoritative yet kind voice interrupted her speech as more quickened footsteps echoed across the hall. True to his word, Varian had brought the palace surgeon to assist with Eugene.

“Dr. Eden,” acknowledged Rapunzel, nodding with some relief, “thank you for coming so quickly. While we’re not exactly certain what’s affecting Eugene, we can tell you that the visual symptoms you can see weren’t affecting him as little as an hour ago.”

Lance stood up from his place by Eugene, volunteering the empty spot for Dr. Eden. The doctor quickly knelt down and began examining her patient. “So he’s not sunburned, then?” queried the doctor. “Not at all,” Rapunzel answered.

“And his fever?” continued Eden.

“He showed no signs of it at all until approximately 30 minutes ago, when he laid down his head upon the table during tea.”

“Hmmm,” Dr. Eden’s brows knitted together as she mused to herself. “Does anyone here happen to have a spyglass or other magnifier?”

“I do!” Varian chirped, clearly pleased to be of further assistance. The young teen stepped closer and volunteered his ever-present prism goggles. After Varian showed the doctor how to work the goggles, she asked the nearby servants if the castle had any ice stores in the palace cellars. Unfortunately, they did not and had used up the last of the stores the week prior and had yet to replenish them. It was then that Varian again volunteered. “Uhm, actually, I have an alchemical compound that creates ice from regular water almost instantly,” he said helpfully.

“Can the ice safely touch human skin?”, asked Dr. Eden. Varian answered in the affirmative. “Can you make enough ice to fill an entire washtub with it too?” Dr. Eden continued multi-tasking by asking Varian questions and closely examining the surface of Eugene’s skin up close with the goggles.

Varian made some brief calculations in his head and affirmed that he did indeed have enough ice-making compound for the task at hand.

“All right, then -- retrieve your supplies, Alchemist, and I shall meet up with you again in the bath chamber. My patient is in need of your services too,” said Dr. Eden.

“Yes, ma’am!!” said Varian excitedly, very nearly saluting the doctor as he rushed out of the hall, nearly ploughing into one of the palace servants in his haste. "Whoops! Sorry!!" the teen exclaimed in a hurry.

Then the doctor turned toward the princess and said, “We’ve simply got to bring down Eugene’s temperature as rapidly as possible. Now tell me -- has he perhaps recently been struck by lightning?”

“No!!” Rapunzel answered immediately. But then thought better of it.

“Wait….actually....” The power and energies that she and Cassandra had been wielding yesterday had certainly resembled nothing if not so much as awesome lightning…. And poor Eugene and Varian had been haplessly trapped and caught up right in the center of it all. Oh, how foolish she had been to assume they had all somehow escaped her goddess-like fight with Cassandra completely unscathed…..therefore she nodded despondently toward Dr. Eden.

“Y-yesterday,” Rapunzel’s throat constricted on the word, and a hand flew to her mouth. The princess could no longer speak. That instantaneous tsunami of guilt which built within her over the mere possibility that her actions from yesterday might’ve led to Eugene’s current state of suffering today threatened to overwhelm her.

Lance had just explained to her that Eugene was all but certain that Cassandra wasn’t the one responsible for his newest gnarly scars. Was it possible that’s because Eugene knew that Rapunzel was the one who had given them to him instead, however unwittingly?

#rta #tts #fanfiction AU #tangled fanfiction #cassandras revenge rewrite #eugene fitzherbert #lance strongbow #rapunzel #varian #cassandra #whump #eugene whump

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98prilla · 5 years ago

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Absorbing Anxiety

Based on @loveceit ‘s concept of Virgil being able to absorb the worries of the other sides! It was such a great concept and I loved it, so here’s my little take on it. Please let me know what you think!

They were all in the kitchen of the mindscape. Usually, they each grabbed food individually or just conjured up stuff when they wanted to eat, but Patton insisted once a week they all cook and hang out and eat with each other. A family supper, you could say.

Currently, Patton was looking over Roman's shoulder, trying to instruct him in making spaghetti sauce. Virgil was sitting at the kitchen island, watching them bicker, absolutely sure they were going to start the stove on fire. Then it would spread to the rest of the kitchen, the table, their rooms, it would be nothing but searing heat and dancing flames. He could taste the ash in his mouth, feel the smoke choking his lungs, his skin burning and blistering as he fought through the fire, trying to escape, but it was everywhere, there was no way out.

“Yo, edge lord!” He jerked at Roman's voice, cutting through his daydream. Or day mare? Whatever.

“what, prince of annoying me?” he asked, glaring slightly up at him from under his bangs.

“Honestly Roman, did you even bother to read over the recipe for this dish before you began cooking?” Logan asked, entering, distracting Roman. Virgil breathed out a slight sigh, glad to feel the attention shift away from him.

“Please, I’m a master chef! I can improvise with the best of them!” He replied, spucking spaghetti sauce against the wall as he gestured with the spoon he’d been using for stirring. Virgil snorted and Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses.

“He’s doing great, Logan! He just needs some more practice.” Patton countered, gently taking away the spoon from Roman anyway.

“So did Undyne” Virgil muttered to himself. He didn’t notice Logan’s attention shift his way, or the hint of puzzlement that slipped into his gaze. Virgil had seemed more, well, anxious of late, and he was going to solve this mystery.

They were at the table, Virgil having set the places while Logan monitored the kitchen, which helped put his mind at ease about the whole fire thing. Despite Roman’s best attempts, the pasta was quite good, and Virgil could practically live off garlic bread, which always accompanied this meal. It was relatively quiet as they all ate. Usually Patton would finish first, and then quiz everyone else about their day.

They all had their own schedules, though obviously they worked together quite a bit. Logan got them all up by 9am usually. They would all scrounge for breakfast, or Patton would make pancakes. Usually Roman would grumble and moan for twenty minutes before actually getting up, while Virgil was one of the first in the kitchen, making coffee. They’d socialize a bit, then split off, Logan trying to make sure Thomas followed his schedule, usually having to reign in Patton, who wanted to chase after every dog they passed on the street. Roman was usually brain storming or questing through the imagination for new and interesting ideas, sometimes bringing the rest of them along. Virgil hated to admit it, but he actually kind of liked these excursions. It was a bit like playing live d&d. He was a rogue type, obviously. And other than that, Virgil kept Thomas aware of his surroundings, of any dangers, of impending deadlines, of things that needed to be worked on urgently and things that could wait. Usually they all had some down time in the evening they spent together, or with Thomas as well, then it was off to bed. Virgil usually was up the latest, going down rabbit holes of conspiracy theories or loose ends from the day, trying not to keep Thomas awake.

“Could you pass the bread, kiddo?” Patton asked. Virgil smiled, coming out of his thoughts.

“anything for you, Pat.” He replied, passing the plate across the table to Patton. For a moment as the plate passed from one hand to another, their fingers touched.

Insecurities. About being too silly, not being taken seriously, not being listened to, being dismissed. He only wanted to help, but it seemed nothing he did was ever good enough, or just caused more harm. All his nostalgia and daydreaming just distracted from what was important, what was real and there and now, but he couldn’t let go of the past, even when it hurt. So he clung to it like a lifeline even when he knew it was better to let go, and it hurt…

Virgil bit his lip as he pulled his hand away, making sure no one else saw the slight flicker of shadow that vanished into his skin, absorbed by his being. He noticed with satisfaction that Patton chartered away the rest of the meal, eyes bright and filled with excitement, all the clouds gone from his mind. He didn’t notice Logan’s appraising eyes on him. Virgil went to bed early that night.

Roman was pacing the living room. Virgil was sitting on the couch, headphones on, playing some podcast he was only really half listening to as he watched Roman endlessly walking back and forth, wearing holes in the carpet. He was muttering to himself too, which was never a good sign. With a sigh he pulled the headphones down around his neck.

“Having trouble, Romeo?” He asked, smirking despite himself. It was always fun to see Roman in a bit of a pickle, it didn’t happen too often that creativity couldn’t think of anything creative.

“I’ve been brainstorming for hours, and I’ve got nothing, nada, zero! It’s hopeless. I’ll never have another idea.” He plopped dramatically onto the couch, arm splayed across his forehead. Virgil snorted.

“Please. You’re literally the embodiment of ideas. How hard could it be to think of an idea for a video?” He asked, and Roman immediately sat up, a gleam in his eye as he looked at Virgil.

“Oh alright. Hit me with something. Give it a go. What’ve you got, off the top of your head?” Roman asked. Virgil didn’t even blink.

“Ghost hunting. Get an audio tape, an emf reader, and boom, video.” Roman shook his head.

“You know that will scare Patton to death, and Logan will be talking our ear off the entire time about the scientific impossibility of ghosts. In the end, Thomas won’t believe we’ve found something even if a full bodied apparition appears in front of us.” Roman replied. “Anything else?”

“Hmm could do more gaming stuff with his friends. Everyone seems to love that, haven’t done a Kingdom Hearts episode in a while. I know you love Disney.” Virgil teased.

“Tempting, tempting, but been there done that. I’m trying to think of something different, something we haven’t already done before.” Virgil groaned, leaning back against the couch.

“Alright, maybe this is a biit harder than I was giving you credit for. But you’ll think of something. It’s what you do. Go run around in the imagination for a while, beat up the dragon witch, I dunno.” Virgil replied, reaching up to push back his hair, grazing Roman’s arm with his own as he did so.

Worries. Nothing he did was original anymore, was showstopping, amazing, attention getting. It was only a matter of time before everyone found out he was a fraud, before he ran out of ideas permanently, and then Thomas’s career would be over. He’d have ruined it for all them, for Thomas, let them all down. Or worse, he’d be deposed by Remus. Thomas’s content would turn into a dumpster fire and all of his loving fans would turn against him, the backlash would be on national TV, he’d be the laughing stock of the entire internet, no one would care about him anymore. And he’d be powerless to do anything about it, because deep down, he was just a faker. He was nothing, nothing at all.

Virgil barely registered Roman’s rushed farewell as he hurried off to his room, alight with some new idea he needed to start sketching out before he lost it. Virgil flipped his hood up, looking at his arm. It took the darkness longer to fade this time, and he didn’t know why. It had never felt like this before, so overwhelming, so built up. He drew in a breath, trying to contain his own spiraling thoughts.

It had to be something to do with being originally a “dark side” now living in the “light side”. It had to be something to do with the others. Deceit, if he had to place his bets. Because of him, he was so full on his own personal stress and worry that it was harder and took longer to absorb the other’s. But he had to. If they wanted to get anything done, he had to. He could handle it. He always had, anyways.

It was dark. Whispers chased him through twisting corridors, faint voices that whispered he was worthless, he’d never be forgiven, he was unworthy of their love, he was a liar and a fraud and a cheat. He ran faster, trying to outrun those words, trying to scream, to say it wasn’t true, but his words caught in his throat until he choked on them, falling to his knees, unable to breath. The whispers buzzed around his head, burrowed into his skin, each one biting deeper than the last until there was nothing of him left and he dissolved into a shadow. Desperatly, he tried to reach the others, but they couldn’t seem to hear him.

He watched them wait for him for breakfast, only for him to never arrive. Saw them knock on his door with worry, force it open to find no sign of him. He saw Patton crying, sitting on his bed, hugging tight the card Virgil had once made for him. He tried to reach out, to comfort him, but the scene burned away, flaking away like ash, leaving him once again in suffocating darkness, knowing there was nothing, nothing he could do.

He jolted awake to a knock at his door, breathing heavy and panicked, unsure for a moment where he was.

“Virgil? May I speak with you?” It was Logan. He furrowed his brow, looking at the clock beside his bed. It was early, seven am, but Logan was usually an early riser. Then he looked down, biting back a yelp.

His arms were covered in inky shadows, no doubt the result of his nightmare. It looked almost like his skin was luminescent with darkness, like he was becoming a shadow himself. His breath hitched again at the thought. What if his nightmare was a warning? What if he was going to fade away and only be able to watch as everything fell apart, and no one would be able to keep Thomas safe anymore, and he’d no doubt do something stupid and get himself killed.

Or worse, selfishly worse, what if nothing changed? What if Thomas was happier, what if he was more productive? What if he got videos done on schedule and came up with innovative ideas and found someone good to love, because all this time he had only been standing in Thomas’s way, and they’d all been too blind to see it?

“Virgil?” He barely heard Logan’s voice anymore. His airway was constricted, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The room was swirling, closing in around him, and he didn’t have any space, any air, there wasn’t any room, any light, any sound…

“Stop it.” He whispered, the buzzing words swirling around him, eating away at him. He covered his ears, tears tracking down his face as they grew louder and louder, drowning him out. Coward, useless, stupid, foolish, childish, dreamer, idiot…

“STOP IT!” He shouted, and suddenly the whispers ceased, the darkness vanished from his skin, the room expanded and it was blessedly silent. He collapsed against the bed, curling into himself, unable to stop shaking. It was so much, when had it all become so much? How did he ever do this without any problem? This was his job, it was what he was made for, made of, why was it hurting so much now?

“Virgil. Please. Please just… just open the door.” Logan’s voice was steady as ever, but something about it, the tone, the octave, made Virgil listen without registering what he was doing, and his door clicked open.

He heard footsteps, slow and soft, like Logan was afraid of scaring him away, like he was a startled deer ready to bolt at any moment. He felt the bed shift beside him, felt Logan’s weight on it.

“You’re not feeling well.” It wasn’t a question, and Virgil didn’t bother answering, no point in denying it. Then Logan reached out.

“Don’t-“ He yelped, trying to pull back, but Logan had already grabbed hold of his wrist. As he watched, it turned almost translucent, revealing the shadows swirling around inside, thick and viscous, like a combination of oil and smog roiling beneath his skin. He heard Logan inhale sharply, felt his eyes on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up. To see the disgust and fear and pity on his face, to see him recoil now that he’d seen what lay beneath the surface, now that he knew what he really was.

“I thought so.” Was what he mused instead. Virgil’s head jerked up, looking at Logan, who was staring into the distance, as if calculating something in his head. “How long have you been using this ability?” He asked. Virgil hunched his shoulders, hugging his knees to his chest.

“What ability?” He muttered. He felt Logan’s stern gaze on him again, then heard him sigh.

“I noticed you doing it to Patton the other night. You touched his hand, then he became noticeably more… well, cheery. And Roman, the other day. He’d had writers block for hours, then two minutes with you and he’s writing up a storm. I’ve noticed other times, too, where short interactions with you suddenly leave one of the others more lighthearted and you more downcast, especially and concerningly so as of late. So, I will ask again. How long have you been using this ability?” Virgil bit his lip, hesitating, before shrugging.

“Always. I’ve always had it. Always used it, even when I was... was one of Them. Makes sense, right? Anxiety can absorb other Sides’ anxieties. Makes it easier for everyone to function, doesn’t impede me doing my job. After a while it just, I dunno, fades away from me.” He replied.

“But now it isn’t, is it? Instead of gradually fading away, it is instead accumulating to previously unforeseen levels, perhaps dangerously so and to your detriment.”

“I’m fine, teach. Just some added worries. Nothing I can’t handle.” Virgil replied, giving Logan a smile, stretching. Logan simply frowned.

“You’re not fine, Virg. I could feel you, the whole mindscape could. You’ve never felt like that, not even during a panic attack. This, what you’re doing, I don’t know why it’s hurting you this way now, when it wasn’t before, but you need to stop using it, at least until we can figure out why.” Virgil looked like he was going to argue for a moment, but then he deflated, seeming to sink into himself.

“then what good am I? If I can’t even do my job, what’s the point?” He whispered, voice shaking.

“Oh Virgil. This isn’t your job. It’s not your job to take away everyone else’s worries, it’s not your job to put all of that on yourself, it’s not your job to keep it all inside you until you fall apart and your emotional well being is compromised. Your job is to keep Thomas safe, and doing what he needs to, in order to survive.”

Then Logan was suddenly hugging him. He blinked in surprise before leaning into it, letting all his own stress cry itself dry. Virgil was too preoccupied to notice, but Logan wasn’t, as he watched some of the darkness swirling inside Virgil slip onto his own skin, and sink into it. He felt a bit heavier, a bit more stressed for no particular reason than usual, but it wasn’t cumbersome, and it wasn’t a hinderance to his function.

He realized that just as Virgil could siphon away other’s stresses and worries, he too, could siphon away some of Virgil’s. He wondered if all of the others could do it. It made sense, that it would work both ways. He supposed it would naturally fade away over time, but that it faded faster the less there was, just as worries, once stacked on top of each other, lingered longer than if they had been one single thought.

He ran the calculations in his mind. He could take a bit from Virgil, make sure it dissipated fully, then take some more, and soon he would be back to normal levels. As long as he monitored the situation, and started easing some of the added worry before it built up to such high levels again, it shouldn’t affect either of them. He would have to be discreet, of course, just as Virgil didn’t want anyone to know he was siphoning away their anxieties, Virgil wouldn’t approve of Logan taking away his.

“It’s ok, Virgil. It’s ok.” Logan whispered, hesitantly stroking Virgil’s hair as he rocked him. He generally wasn’t the one dealing with emotions, and was slightly out of practice in comforting people, but his efforts seemed to be working as Virgil’s sobs slowly came to a halt, and he drew away, wiping his eyes.

“I don’t know why it’s so much. Why it… it hurts, so much. It’s never been like this before, never. Something must be wrong with me, something isn’t working right.” Virgil rambled, wiping his nose on his sweater sleeve.

“Just take a break from using it for a while, alright? You have so much accumulated right now, it just needs more time to break down. Don’t use it for, let’s say a week, and then we’ll see how you feel. As long as you are honest with me about the state of the build up. Ok?” Logan asked, Virgil meeting his eyes as he nodded.

“Ok teach.” Logan smiled softly.

“good. Now, do you want to try and get some more rest, or do you want to come help with breakfast?” Virgil smiled wryly.

“I think sleep is out of the question. Might as well make sure the kitchen doesn’t go down in flames.” They made small talk the rest of the morning as they cooked, the repetitive pattern of it soothing Virgil’s mind somewhat, letting him relax without realizing it, making Logan sigh with relief.

It seemed he’d managed to get this power of Virgil’s under control once again. But that begged the question, if it had been previously under control, who had been siphoning away the stress from Virgil? Certainly not Remus. So, it must have been… Deceit?

Not for the first time, Logan wondered how close Virgil had been with the others before moving to the other side of the mindscape. Close enough that small touches of affection were acceptable, if Deceit truly had been managing Virgil’s skill. Yet Virgil seemed to hate him so vehemently now. He sighed, flipping pancakes. That was a mystery for another day.

#sanderssides #thomas sanders #virgil angst #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #mention of deciet

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saiilorstars · 4 years ago

Text

The Beginning of Everything

Ch. 30: Running To You

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC (new face claim alert!)

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Chapter summary: The Doctor has made the worst possible mistake a Time Lord can make. He can't bring himself to face Renata even when she's so close to death so when he gets pulled back to Earth to face the Master one last time before his death, the Doctor takes it without a second though. But would Renata ever let him run on his own again?

6 months after Gabby's unveiling.

The Doctor had heard the screwdriver ping several times but there was so much going on. At first, he didn't answer because there was a unique distress call coming from Mars. He told himself he'd only pop in, make sure everything was going according to Time, and then he would see what Gabby needed. But when what he finally thought the Mars trip was a done deal, things went terribly wrong. He'd gone too far on his own. He always knew that he couldn't be alone, but he still fell. And this time he'd fallen too deep to be rescued. The bells were ringing and death was coming for him.

It scared him to the bone. How could he face Renata after his monumental screw up? She was always so proper, so law abiding, and he had broken their biggest law. She would hate him. She would hate him for real this time.

But the sonic kept pinging, and pinging…

With another sigh, Gabby lowered the sonic in her hand and looked back to where the glowing golden energy was swallowing up her friend. "He's not answering," she shook her head.

Zhe was at Renata's bedside, gripping Renata's left hand while the Time Lady writhed in pain. "I don't think she's going to last much longer."

Gabby bit her lower lip until she drew blood. Zhe was absolutely right. She didn't understand why the Doctor wasn't calling back. The few times that she'd paged him, he'd been very dutiful and returned the call within minutes. What could he possibly be doing right now that was more important than Renata!?

"C-can't hold it…" Renata groaned loudly and twisted her body to each side every minute. "I'm going to…"

"Don't use up your energy," Zhe tried calming her by passing her hand through Renata's hair. She didn't pull away when she realized how damp Renata's hair had become.

"There's no energy left!" Renata cried out in pain. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to think of anything but her impending death. She could feel it this time. It was a proper ending. Her entire body was on fire and unlike all the times before, she wasn't expelling it on the spot. Her head was pounding too. The Time Vortex inside her was making everything in her mind feel like it was being crammed. That was definitely new too. The Time Vortex was mixing, at the very least, with the other energy invading her body and if she didn't regenerate then it would be a real, proper death.

Gabby's heart broke hearing her friend crying in what had to be agonizing pain. She rushed to Renata's other side and took her hand, gripping it as tightly as Zhe was. "You'll be okay, I promise!"

Renata forced herself to open her eyes and see Gabby for the last time. "Oh Gabriella, this is it. This is my goodbye."

"No, no, don't say that," Gabby's eyes filled with tears. "The Doctor probably has a cure already and he's on his way."

"There's nothing left to do," Renata hissed as she felt a new piercing pain cutting through her stomach. "I'm...I'm not sure about regeneration so...so I just...need to thank you for being here. Both of you," she glanced at Zhe. "I don't want to die alone. The last time I died, I did it all by myself and I died during the war. I think maybe that's why this life was never a good one. I died in a war and I was reborn from a war. This life was useless. I never knew how to live happily. I was a nuisance."

"No you weren't," Gabby wanted Renata to laugh with her, to banter until Gabby could convince Renata that she was a good person.

Renata scrunched her face and whimpered. "I don't want to die without the Doctor. I had hope that…" she swallowed hard, "I had hope that maybe I would get a second chance..." Her body seemed to jerk forwards but she didn't have the strength to actually sit up. Instead, gold energy wafted from her body. Renata wanted to hope that it was regeneration energy trying to heal her body. "I need the Doctor," she closed her eyes as tears pooled in them, "I want him here with me. I want him holding my hand, telling me that he's going to make everything better even though I would argue that he couldn't. I want him here…" She gagged only to release more energy. "I need him here...I love him."

"Oh Ren," Gabby felt a deep fury ripple through her at the Doctor's tardiness. Where the hell was he!? Renata looked like a scared kid. Gabby didn't know what to do.

But then she heard something from a distance...a wheezing noise…

Gabby's anger was forgotten in a snap when she heard the beautiful noise of the TARDIS. "Oh he's here! Renata, he's here!" she left a sloppy kiss on Renata's hand and dashed for the door. "Doctor! Doctor!" she yelled all the way down the hall, and to the TARDIS. But she nearly crashed into the door when somebody opened it inches from her face. Gabby fervently shook her head and blinked fast to get her sight back. When she did, she saw who had come. "...Doctor?"

~0~

Earth, 2010.

He was back.

He was back and he was ready to cause havoc wherever he went.

The Doctor thought himself a quick-paced man most of the time. But right now, as he chased after the Master, he seemed like the slowest man in the universe.

The Master - mighty disheveled and even crazier than the last time he'd shown up - ran through a dumpsite. He roared with all his might, letting his voice echo through the dumpsite, before he leaped into the air and landed on a pile of dirt. He stood on his spot, laughing maniacally, and allowed the Doctor to witness his newest abilities. Electricity as it seemed, crackled and shifted his body to a skeleton for a brief moment.

"Please, let me help! You're burning up your own life force!" the Doctor begged to him in vain. The Master jumped off the mountain of trash and continued to run. The Doctor intended on doing the same thing but he was suddenly surrounded by humans.

Wilfred Noble was responsible for it. He'd engineered an entire search party to find the Doctor, and Renata, and was glad to have found at least one of them. The Doctor was bombarded by everyone suddenly around him. He wanted to keep following the Master but it was no use. He was long gone. Now he had to deal with Wilf, and a handsy human. Eventually, he gave in and followed Wilf to some cafe shop more close to the city. With any luck, he might get an idea on how to better catch the Master. His mind spiraled with so many thoughts.

Wilf was nervous pi is himself and that mildly grabbed the Doctor's attention. "I keep seeing things, Doctor, I...this face at night." He continued having horrible nightmares at night, nightmares that seemed relentless to terrify him each night. He didn't know what else to do but find the Doctor and Renata and get them to help him and everyone else having the same nightmares.

"Who are you?" the Doctor suddenly asked him, fixating a suspicious gaze on the man.

"I'm Wilfred Mott," Wilf answered with a light smile.

"No, people have waited hundreds of years to find me and then you manage it in a few hours." The Doctor didn't want to point out that not even Gabby had managed to find him and she had Renata and the sonic. Sometimes, a coincidence isn't one at all.

"Well, I'm just lucky, I s'pose," Wilf gave a light shrug of his shoulders.

"No, we keep on meeting, Wilf. Over and over again, like something's still connecting us."

"Yeah, but what's so important about me?"

"Exactly. Why you?" the Doctor muttered not so quietly and he knew it. If Renata was around, she would've scolded him for being blatantly rude. Renata. His hearts ached knowing that she was so far away from him and...that he might not see her again. This him had expended all his time and what had he done with it? Nothing. He hadn't found anything to help Renata, not even a bit. She was in agonizing pain and right now he wasn't even dedicating his time to find a cure for her. The Master was using that up. He was using his last moments to find the Master.

"Doctor, I've been meaning to ask," Wilf unknowingly yanked the Doctor out of his thoughts. "Where's Renata? I thought she'd be round by that box of yours." But she had yet to make an appearance.

Something flashed over the Doctor's face and Wilf wasn't sure if it was guilt or despondence. Either way, it was grim and overwhelming the Time Lord.

"I'm going to die," the Doctor finally confessed. If he was lucky, Wilf wouldn't completely grasp the implications...not like Renata would, or even Gabby. He had come across the final warning that his ending was near just after making the biggest mistake of his life. He'd crossed the line and this was his punishment.

"Well, so am I, one day," Wilf said, not truly understanding like the Doctor assumed.

"Don't you dare," he warned, almost finding it in him to chuckle.

"All right, I'll try not to."

The Doctor inhaled deeply and leaned his arms over the table. "Renata is far away right now. She's sick and I was supposed to help her, but I haven't been able to live up to my word. No, instead I went out and did something really bad. Something that, if someone had been with me like Renata, maybe I wouldn't have done at all." That's who he was, somebody who couldn't be on his own anymore. The darkness inside him only waited for his friends to leave in order to come out and wreck things.

"Where is she?" asked Wilf out she curiosity and concern.

"On a planet very far away from here." The Doctor exhaled heavily. "I was told. 'He will knock four times.' That was the prophecy. Knock four times, and then…"

"But I thought when I saw you before, you said your people could change, like, your whole body…?"

"I can still die. If I'm killed before regeneration, then I'm dead. Even then. Even if I change, it feels like dying. Everything I am dies. Some new man goes sauntering away. And I'm dead." And a new man will go and find Renata and give her what he couldn't. Maybe the next him would find the cure and heal Renata, like a true doctor.

"Hmm…" Wilf's gaze drifted to the window, specifically at something across the street.

"What?" the Doctor picked up on it and followed Wilf's gaze out the window. There he saw his best friend, Donna Noble, heading down the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry. But I had to. Look, can't you make her better?" Wilf desperately asked. Part of his reason to conduct his search for the Doctor and Renata was to help Donna be the happiest she could be. "You're so clever. Can't you bring her memory back? Look, just go to her now, go on. Just run across the street. Go up and say hello."

The Doctor would want nothing more than that. He would give anything to go back and travel with Donna, Gabby and Renata all together like the little family they'd become. "If she ever remembers me, her mind will burn, and she will die."

"Don't you touch this car!" Donna's loud yell made both men laugh. She was having a go at a parking meter employee in regards to her car.

"She's not changed," the Doctor remarked with a smile.

"Nah. Oh, there he is…" Wilf nodded to a dark skinned man who had joined Donna and was holding her shopping bags. "Shawn Temple. They're engaged. Getting married in the spring."

"Another wedding." The Doctor was happy to know that Donna was at least living a good life without them. Something needed to go right after all the chaos that happened. "Hold on, she's not gonna be called Noble-Temple? Sounds like a tourist spot."

"No, it's Temple-Noble."

"Right. Is she happy? Is he nice?"

"Yeah, he's sweet enough. He's a bit of a dreamer. Mind you, he's on minimum wage, she's earning tuppence, so all they can afford is a tiny little flat. And then sometimes I see this look on her face. Like she's so sad, but she can't remember why."

"But she's got him," the Doctor said, sparing the window another glance. Donna had just stopped talking to a dark-haired woman on the street. "That's all she needs." God knew one person could make a huge difference in one's life. And right now, his person was light years away.

Unknowingly, the same woman Donna had been talking to walked into the cafe. She went directly up to the counter and greeted the current waitress. They had a few words that prompted the woman to look around until she found the Doctor. She froze for a moment after catching his eye. He tilted his at her, eyes scrutinizing her appearance as she started walking towards their table.

"What is it?" Wilf turned slightly in the booth to see what the Doctor was looking at.

The young woman stopped by their table, wearing a warm smile across her face. Her dark brown - almost black - hair cascaded down her shoulders, stopping shortly above her elbows. There was a bright white flower tucking behind her left ear. She was a bit light skinned as if she was sun tanned. Her eyes were dark but there was a lighter shade right in the center of her irises. She wore a flower patterned dress with a few buttons going down her chest, the top one left unbuttoned.

"Can we help you?" the Doctor asked her, getting a faint feeling that he was supposed to know her from somewhere.

The woman smiled but said nothing. Instead, she reached for a necklace around her neck - the Doctor hadn't even realized she was wearing one! She unfastened it and let it gently fall to the table. The Doctor only briefly studied it before he got a tingling sensation in his head. It was the same as the Master. He looked up at the woman with widened eyes. As the seconds passed, the sensation got stronger, deeper, until he started seeing things.

1914. John Smith had just bumped into Renata Cartwright.

Then they were on the Titanic dancing sweetly moments before they would argue.

They met Donna, then Gabby, and they visited Zhe's gallery. Butterflies, so many butterflies clouded his mind.

The Doctor's body jumped from the booth, hitting his side on the corner of the table in the process but it didn't register to him. He faced the woman and re-scrutinized her whole body. She reached up to his ear, maybe slightly less, which wasn't that big of a difference from her last body…

When he met her eyes, he realized they were both teary. Although his teariness stemmed from a very dark spot and hers was a happy one.

"Hello, Doctor. I'm glad I finally found you," she whispered.

"Renata?" He suddenly had no air in that bypass system of his. When she gave a confirming nod, he nearly crumpled in pain. "You regen...you regenerated!?"

Renata hated to nod again but she did. He looked ready to fall so she quickly dove to hold and hug him. "N-n-n-no, Doctor! It's fine! It's fine! Look at me!" she cupped his face and sweetly smiled at him. "Look at me," she whispered. "I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm okay."

Few tears rolled down the Doctor's cheeks. "I failed you …"

"No, you didn't," Renata fervently shook her head. "You did everything you could but my time was up. I only got time to say goodbye." The Doctor's head wanted to lower but Renata had a firm grip on him. "Doctor, it's okay. I'm okay now." But he failed her, he was seeing her now. She had regenerated without him there at her side. No, he had been too busy running from his mistake. "Doctor, stop it," Renata scolded lightly.

Their minds were still connected, for the moment and she was seeing all of his mistakes...all of them. When the Doctor realized this, his head hung low this time. He was ashamed and embarrassed. Renata wouldn't want anything to do with him. And she would be right. He failed her so many times.

Renata's thumbs cleared the tears off his face. "Shh, I'm here. I'm here for you." She raised his head so that she could see his eyes. "And it looks like there's trouble aboard so…" she kissed his nose and lifted his head so that he would straighten up. "Let's get to work." She fixed his tie until it was straight. The Doctor nodded but it was done mainly out of instinct.

Renata looked past him and smiled at Wilf. "Nice to see you again, Wilf. I just talked to Donna - just a bit - and she seems like herself."

Wilf stared at her, logically confused until he could find his words. "You're…Renata?"

Renata nodded. "Yes. Look a bit different now, which is why I took advantage and snuck to see Donna. Broke a rule." She chuckled to herself and missed the Doctor's stunned face beside her.

She...broke a rule?

"But are you alright?" Wilf stood up from the booth and, like the Doctor, looked Renata over. If she changed her face then it meant she'd died.

"I am just fine, Wilf," Renata nodded. "But you aren't. I hear there are some bad dreams you're having?" Wilf nodded affirmatively. "Well, you did the right thing trying to find us. Tell you what, you go on home and we'll do a few things on our own for a couple hours."

"But I don't-"

Renata put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I promise you that we will be back. There's just a couple things I'd like to discuss with the Doctor in private."

"You promise?" Wilf was more inclined to believe the woman, but he still wanted to hear her say it.

Renata went as far as raising her hand when she promised him again. It proved true to Wilf and so he felt confident enough to leave the cafe knowing that they would find him again. It left Renata an open spot on his side of the booth. She slid in and smiled casually as she picked up a menu from the table's rack. Her eyes gazed over the menu, humming a tune like she was truly there for breakfast or lunch. The Doctor only stared at her, trying to figure something out.

But once again, Renata knew.

"It is me, and I did regenerate." Her eyes flickered from the menu to meet his. Her lips slightly pulled for a wider smile. "I'm not going to lie I still have a headache but I think...I think with some time the Time Vortex will finally find a stabilizing level."

"But the other energy—"

"May have combined with the Time Vortex during my regeneration. Isn't it ironic?" Renata lowered the menu to the table. "I had to die in order to have a chance to live. All my regeneration energy managed to ease the outrageous levels of toxins in my body and I think, if we check later on, it might be forming a new stabilized energy."

"But you died…" the Doctor could barely string the two words together. All he knew was that he missed her death. She must have been so lonely...

"Yes, I did but I didn't die alone." She was still reading his mind. It was rude but for the moment she would leave it open until he got everything off his chest. Plus, it was kind of nice having his presence inside her head. "I had Gabby and I had Zhe...and I had somebody else." Her hand reached the white flower resting behind her ear. The Doctor saw the movement and couldn't help question the gentle stroke she gave it, like it was so precious to her. "I admit I was scared. I wasn't sure if I would make it through regeneration but...here I am."

"I'm so sorry, Renée," the Doctor barely got to say when Renata grabbed his hands on the table.

"No, no, you don't have to apologize for anything."

The Doctor swallowed a lump in his throat while he shook his head. "No, I should have been there like I promised! I told Gabby I would call back whenever she paged! I told her I would do it...but instead I made a huge mistake."

Renata's face softened as his grew deeper into a dark grimness. "Oh Doctor, I know what you have done. I know it all. You don't have to be ashamed. It was a decision that pushed you to the edge. Everyone has that moment."

"You would never," the Doctor said with the utmost certainty. It brought new tears to his eyes. Renata would never make such a terrible decision that would break all the rules their people stood by. He was never going to reach her level; he never had. He started below her and he would never be good enough for her.

Renata knew every thought of his right now and there was such a determination to prove him wrong, it shocked her...but it didn't deter her. "I'm not a proper Time Lady, Doctor. I have made my own choices that aren't becoming of our people."

"You?" the Doctor almost laughed at the idea, but Renata was quite serious.

"Yes." Renata nervously licked her lips before she continued. "I've been afraid of telling you this for a while, Doctor. It's one of my most shameful secrets, but you deserve to know that I'm not as proper and classy as you think I am. At the end of my time in the Time War, I was brought into the High Council. Word had spread that you had stolen the Moment." Once more, the Doctor's head fell in shame. "And my sister had formed a plan. The Assessor had disclosed my affair with you to the Council and they theorized that I could get you to stop from using it."

"But you never came…" the Doctor only raised his head to give her a puzzled look. His memories were a bit fuzzy in that life but he knew exactly what he did in the end.

"I didn't," Renata agreed with fresh tears glistening in her eyes. "The Assessor made an offer to me. 'Find the Doctor, take the Moment back and the High Council will grant you a new regeneration cycle'."

The Doctor's eyes widened. The High Council was always strict about their regeneration cycle. Twelve and no more. Once your number was up, your number was up. There was no getting around it unless there was a really good reason behind it, but even those were rare.

"But I convinced them to give me the new cycle first," Renata went on. Now it was her gaze that was slowly falling. "I told them that I would find you and that I would take the Moment back...but I needed the new cycle first. I only had 2 left. One left," she added for her current state. "And so they did. I was granted a whole new regeneration cycle and I was sent on my way to find you with the promise that I wouldn't let Gallifrey be destroyed."

"But you never…" the Doctor whispered and trailed off when Renata sniffled.

"I lied to them. I was so angry with them all. They plunged our planet into bloody war where I lost my entire family. I had lost my parents, Elek...my unborn child. I lost everything and nobody up in the high ranks seemed to care." A deep, still raw, fury rippled through Renata as if those events had just happened yesterday. It made her body shake from such a feeling that the Doctor had to grip her hands already around his. She exhaled deeply and found courage to look at him. "I wanted them to pay. And I wanted my sister to pay for what she did to us. So I took the new cycle and I ran away. I escaped and I let you do what you did. So you see, Doctor? I'm not proper, I don't follow all the rules. I've made my own terrible choice. You don't dare be ashamed with me because I don't care. I know who you are and nothing has changed."

The Doctor was stunned, astonished even, to hear such a story and that Renata was the protagonist of it. He studied her sweet nature, a nature that had turn slightly less grim than her last incarnation, and simply couldn't see her doing it. "You…?"

Renata nodded her head. "Oh yeah. Lied straight to their faces. I took what I thought I was owed and I ran."

"Do you regret it?"

Renata raised her eyebrows. "I regret lying to my sister but I don't regret taking the extra cycle. I never got to live. The irony is that even with the extra cycle, I still don't know how to live." She wouldn't get lost in that right now, though, not when she knew what was at stake. "So," she straightened up in her spot, "I know the Master's around here. We should find him."

"How do you know?" the Doctor asked then realized he had no idea how she even got to Earth without the TARDIS. "And how did you get here?"

A secret smile spread across Renata's face. "Somebody brought me. He told me everything that was going on. That's why I understand you couldn't return Gabriella's call."

"You're not going to tell me how you got here, are you?" the Doctor knew the answer from that wide, almost teasing, smile on her face. It was a rare sight because Renata never teased...at least not in her last life. Previous life. He swallowed hard.

"It's fine, Doctor," Renata told him again.

"Where's Gabby?"

"I left her with Zhe. If the Master truly is here and something is going wrong with Time then I wanted Gabriella to be far away from here." Renata briefly gazed at the menu in front of her and lamented that they wouldn't be able to order. "You know, I think this body is going to really like pancakes. I've never had them while I was hiding on Earth. Pancakes. Hopefully later." She slid out of the booth then held a hand out for the Doctor. He was practically in awe of her more carefree demeanor. His stunned face made her chuckle. "I know, I'm surprised myself," she said as she grabbed his closest hand and gently made him slide out of the booth.

They left the cafe hand in hand and since they had no TARDIS to get around, they settled for walking. They followed their senses to find the Master and it eventually brought them into a warehouse of some sort. It was near the dumpsite, something that made them wonder why the Master would choose such an...interesting site to reside in. He was, after all, Harold Saxon at one point.

"My nose is definitely more sensitive now," Renata crinkled her nose as they crossed further towards the warehouse. There were piles of trash and of course, being the Doctor, he had climbed the biggest one he could find. Renata sighed and watched him take a spot at the top. "Do you see…?" but she trailed off when she got a specific type of tingle.

He was near.

Renata whipped her head to the left and saw a figure coming towards them. He wore a hoodie but with the hood down. For a few seconds, the Master didn't acknowledge Renata's presence. Instead, he fired an electric beam of energy towards the Doctor, but missed.

"Stop that!" Renata yelled in outrage. They hadn't even been in the same spot for a minute when already there was a fight.

The Doctor rushed down the pile of dirt, thinking Renata would be the next target but the Master was solely focused on him for the time being. Again he shot and this time the Doctor took the blow against the chest.

"Doctor!" Renata exclaimed and dashed to help him off the ground.

The Master then sent a wave of energy at her, purposely missing so that it would only force her into a skidded stop. "Always coming to save him, aren't you?" Renata's face was a deep scowl and it was a shame it was already learning the marks considering it was only hours new. "New face," the Master remarked, barely giving her a look. "What? You thought going younger might do something for him?" his nod at the Doctor evoked a pure hatred from Renata.

"You're maniacal."

"And you're a cheater."

Renata felt anger bubble inside of her, making her fingers twitch, but it wasn't the normal type of anger she would get. It made her feel kind of sick, actually, like something was swirling inside her stomach.

The Master was satisfied with her silent reaction and so he turned for the Doctor on the ground. The latter was attempting to stand but that energy was stronger than he thought.

"Your resurrection went wrong," he strained to say. "That energy... Your body's ripped open. Now you're killing yourself."

But the Master didn't look very concerned with his situation. He turned towards the sight of the city and grinned. "And that's human Christmas out there. They eat so much. All that roasting meat, cakes and red wine! Hot, fat, blood food!" Renata grimaced at his frantic, spitting description. "Pots, plates of meat and flesh and grease and juice. And baking, burnt, sticky hot skin. Hot! It's so hot!"

"Oh my God, stop!" Renata yelled, demanded, but the Master seemed to be on automatic. The words kept coming out.

"It's mine! It's mine! It's mine! It's mine! Eat it! Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!" the Master sucked in a sharp breath and that seemed to get him some control back.

"What if we ask you for help?" the Doctor knew with that question he would at least buy them 30 seconds of his attention. Of course he didn't see Renata's reluctant expression over his decision. "There's more at work tonight than you and us."

'Are you sure asking him to help us is a good idea?'

The Doctor flinched when he heard Renata's soft voice in his head. He couldn't help but shoot her his stunned look. She could understand his reaction, given her behavior in the past when it came to this precise ability, but the situation called for it.

'We're in trouble, Doctor. I will not stand in the way because I don't want you to peek into my mind. You know me now and all my secrets. There's nothing left to hide.' Renata was at peace with that, and she could only wait for the Doctor to fully grasp the fact she'd lied about being 'proper'. They would have to discuss that later when everything was over.

The Doctor gave her a nod then returned to the conversation with the Master. "I've been told something is returning."

The Master raised his arms to present himself. "And here I am!"

"No, it was something more."

That was a disappointment. The Master's arms dropped but his hands soon found his head after a particular jab of pain struck him. "But it hurts."

"I was told the end of time…"

"It hurts, Doctor, the noise...the noise in my head, Doctor!" the Master bobbed his head at a tune that only he could hear. "One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four,

stronger than ever before! Can't you hear it?"

"We really can't," Renata said quietly from her spot. Even though the Master was crazy, she always believed him about the drums in his head. There was no way anyone could fake that type of insanity.

"Just listen!" the Master practically barked at them for silence. "Listen, listen! Every minute, every second, every beat of my hearts, there it is...calling to me. Please, listen!"

"We can't hear it," the Doctor told him.

The Master groaned in frustration and stalked towards the Doctor, ignoring Renata's cry for him to stop. He grabbed the Doctor's head and pressed their foreheads together. For a split second there, the Doctor heard the famous drums drumming away...nonstop.

He shoved the Master away with a face of horror. "But that's…!"

"You heard it?" Renata blinked at the Doctor, wondering if perhaps the Master had tampered with his mind.

'No, it was there,' the Doctor promised her, his eyes still glued to the Master. 'He truly does hear something.'

Well, that changed things. Renata took a stride towards the two men and pulled the Master to her. "There can't actually be a noise in your head so-so…" she couldn't begin to comprehend the layers that went behind that 'noise'. She was flabbergasted and it showed on her face. "What is inside your head, then?"

The Master pulled his arm out of his grip to laugh as if he'd finally won something. "It's real! It's real! It's REAL!" he suddenly launched himself into the sky, as if it were that easy, and landed at the top of a pile of dirt and rock. "All these years, you thought I was mad. King of the wasteland. But something is calling me, Doctor, what is it? What is it? What is it?"

"If we knew, you wouldn't be up there!" frowned Renata. "Now get down!"

They were suddenly taken over by the whirring blades of a helicopter coming towards them. A beam of light struck down over the Master, then the Doctor and then Renata. Two ropes swung down the air, allowing for two men to rappel down. Between them, they tranquilized the Master and hoisted him up.

"No, stop!" the Doctor dashed for the pile, as if he would ever catch them in time.

Two other soldiers appeared in the area, one of them forcing Renata to put her hands up while the other started firing at the Doctor. The Master was taken before the Doctor ever reached him, but even then somebody got the idea to smack him unconscious.

"If you hit me with that I swear to God you'll regret it," Renata pointed a warning finger at the soldier holding the gun on her. The soldier didn't appear that intimidated, but they did leave her be.

When she could, Renata rushed to the Doctor's side. She called his name twice before seeing the mark of the smack on the left side of his face. It was deep enough to keep him out for a decent amount of time.

~ 0 ~

By the time the Doctor came to, it was nearly dawn. But the strangest thing was that he wasn't even outside. He was inside the TARDIS, his body unceremoniously sprawled over the Captain's chair.

"What the—" he gave a jump and nearly fell to the floor.

"Please don't hurt yourself," Renata poked her head around the console. "It took me a good deal to drag you to that chair. You're heavier than you look."

The Doctor briefly paused to shoot her a mock-glare. "Thanks." He straightened himself up a minute afterwards and brought a hand to his head, precisely over the spot he'd been smacked.

"Yeah, I wouldn't touch that," Renata said after catching him wince. "They got you really good, not that I'm complimenting the enemy. That's what you do." For the second time, the Doctor mock-glared at her. "Sorry," Renata bit her lip and awkwardly smiled at him.

"How'd you find the TARDIS?" he asked after realizing she had to have gone off in the night to find the box while he'd been unconscious.

"With enormous difficulty," Renata leaned her body forwards on the console and sighed. She had to wander through the streets, following her senses to find the TARDIS and it involved a certain degree of thinking like the Doctor. She came to the conclusion that she wasn't meant to think like the Doctor.

"You didn't think to check my mind for the location?"

"That's rude," she said matter-of-factly.

So, not everything had changed in her. She was still cautious about rules. The Doctor strode to her side and gazed at the monitor she'd been working at. "How long has it been?"

"It's nearly morning and I've got nothing," Renata admitted with frustration. "Whoever took him knows exactly how to hide his, well, Time Lord sense. I couldn't do it and the TARDIS couldn't do it. What else can we do?"

The Doctor considered every last option they had which, honestly, wasn't a lot. Although, there was one option he bet Renata hadn't thought about. He wouldn't have thought about it either because it was a minuscule thing, so small that Renata wouldn't consider it important.

"I've got one idea," he said and prepared the console for their next destination.

~ 0 ~

"This was your idea?" Renata had her arms folded and one of her feet was tapping against the cement. They stood just across the street from Donna's house, waiting for Wilf to come out.

"He's got to be involved," the Doctor insisted but Renata scoffed so deeply that it actually made him wince. She also retained the same - if not stronger - scolding voice too.

"He is a human who just got lucky!"

"Exactly. How many humans can get lucky finding me?"

"Well I found you twice and I wasn't very happy about it." Renata kept her eyes locked on Donna's house in case Donna might pop out and they had to hide. The Doctor, on his part, glared at her again. So this incarnation had more tongue. Something to look forward to.

Eventually, Wilf came out of the house but he crossed the street in a rush. "Listen, you can't park there, what if Donna sees it?"

"So she is in the house?" Renata shot the Doctor another disapproving look. "See? It's much too dangerous."

"Oh give me a break, you talked to her!" went the Time Lord.

"Yeah, with a new face and for like 2 minutes! That was all I was ever going to get!"

"Listen!" Wilf spoke over the two before things got more heated. "You really can't be here! Can't you move that thing?"

The Doctor shook his head at Renata and turned to Wilf, getting straight to the reason they were there. "You're the only one, Wilf. The only connection I can think of. You're involved. If I could work out how. Tell me, have you seen anything? I don't know. Anything strange, anything odd?" Wilf made a face initially, ready to say 'no' when something popped into his head. "What, what is it?" the Doctor caught onto his expression fast. He'd been right. "Tell us!"

"I mean, it could be nothing…" Wilf said, for a second believing he was being ridiculous. How could a book be important?

"Think, think, think! Maybe something out of the blue. Connected to your life, something!"

"Alright, Donna was a bit strange. She had a funny little moment, this morning, all because of that book."

"What book?"

Wilf said nothing and instead hurried back towards the house.

"See? Told you!" the Doctor smugly smirked at Renata who groaned in return.

"You're ridiculous!" she went after Wilf instead.

The Doctor followed her and while Wilf went inside the house, the two Time Lords moved towards the back to wait for him. When the man returned, he held a book in his hand.

"Here you are, his name's Joshua Naismith!" Wilf pointed to the dark-skinned man on the front cover of the book.

"That's the man!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I was shown him, by the Ood."

"By the what?" Wilf asked, no hope of understanding that bit.

Renata took the book from Wilf's hands and examined the front cover. Joshua Smith certainly seemed human. She checked for the summary on the back and scowled. "Why would a human billionaire be important to this all of a sudden?"

"This is all part of the convergence, maybe…" the Doctor said, mildly lost in thoughts. "Maybe touching Donna's subconscious. Oh, she's still fighting for us, even now. The Doctor-Donna!"

A warm smile came to Renata's face, albeit sad in the end. "I miss her." Before the Doctor could say he did too, Sylvia emerged from the backdoor and nearly yelped at the sight of the pair.

"Get out of here!"

"Well, that's not a way to greet visitors," Renata lowered the book in her arms then frowned at Sylvia.

"She can't see you!"

"And a Merry Christmas to you," the Doctor sighed.

"Mum, where are those tweezers?" Donna's voice froze the group outside. It was as if the fact they froze would keep Donna from spotting them.

"Go!" Sylvia hissed at the pair.

"Yeah, alright, we're going," the Doctor grabbed Renata's arm and pulled them towards the street.

"Yeah, me, too!" Wilf declared and rushed after the pair, completely ignoring his daughter's hiss for her to stay where he was. In fact, it just made him run faster.

"Dad, I'm warning you!" Sylvia was hot on his trail when they were near the sidewalk.

"Bye, see you later!"

"Stay right where you are!"

The Doctor hurriedly unlocked the TARDIS. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Sylvia's personality, and he assumed neither was Renata. But he stopped when he heard Wilf's goodbye to Sylvia. "You can't come with us!"

"You're not leaving me with her!" Wilf responded, sounding more like a warning. He gave a nod to Sylvia who was yelling and coming towards them.

"Fair enough," the Doctor relented.

"Oh get in!" Renata pushed him in first then ushered Wilf after. "And you—" she called over to Sylvia, "—better be nice to Donna! My threat still stands!" She then went into the TARDIS, leaving behind the screaming human.

~ 0 ~

The TARDIS eventually materialized in the mansion of Joshua, in a lab room. The Doctor walked out of the TARDIS with Wilf in tow. He only made it three steps from the TARDIS when Renata called for him to stop.

"Hey! You can't just walk out of the TARDIS without a plan!"

The Doctor turned around, not exactly surprised she had also kept that trait in this new incarnation. "I do have a plan," he argued but she scoffed loudly. "I do."

"Yeah, what is it?"

The Doctor shifted a bit and caught Wilf's amused stare. "We...are going to find the Master! There! That's the plan!" Renata huffed and crossed her arms. The Doctor pulled out a remote to lock the TARDIS completely. "Just a second out of sync. Don't want the Master finding the TARDIS, that's the last thing we need. Now c'mon!"

He led the way out of the room kept to the walls of the hallways until they could make their way outside. The mansion turned out to be an incredibly huge manor with multiple buildings in the property. They had to be careful while they came close to an archway but they were almost caught by two armed guards.

"That book said he's a billionaire. He's got his own private army," Wilf remarked after Renata's gawked expression.

"Down here," the Doctor used his sonic on a small door nearby to go into before the guards could catch them.

"I don't suppose you know where this is going to lead?" Renata asked as they crept down the hallway towards the only source of light.

"Uh, no, I do not," the Doctor shrugged. "But I thought it was better than being caught by the armed guards.

Renata would give him that.

As the trio neared the room they began to hear two voices of presumed employees. Before walking straight in, the Doctor did his due diligence - something Renata truly appreciated given the fact they had Wilf with them - and spotted a man and woman discussing over a particular device set up against a wall.

"Nice gate!" the Doctor startled the pair as he walked on in. "Look, sorry, don't call security, or I'll tell them you're wearing a Shimmer. Cos I reckon anyone wearing a Shimmer doesn't want the Shimmer to be noticed or they wouldn't need a Shimmer in the first place."

The woman chuckled nervously as she glanced at her co-worker. "I'm sorry, what's a Shimmer?"

"For a second, pretend we're not stupid," Renata said flatly. She would've been nice if they weren't on crunch time. The Master was somewhere in the building and these humans actually thought he was their prisoner. The Master was no one's prisoner. But the two technicians continued with the charade.

The woman, who went by Addams, laughed. "I'm sorry, what's a Shimmer?"

With a straight face, Renata raised her sonic screwdriver (her dress had pockets!) at the woman and dismantled the disguise. She was a green woman with small spikes sticking out from her head. It gave Wilf a gasp. The Doctor was more stunned with the fact Renata had done that.

'The Master is on the loose. I will not let him hurt people again.' Renata said without making the smallest of expressions on her face. 'I will apologize later.'

Now that sounded like her. The Doctor put away his smile after a moment and got Addams to disclose everything they had on Joshua and his experiments. He and Renata surfed through their recent results but as much as they studied, they couldn't understand what this huge project was about.

"What are you doing!?" cried a man as he walked into the room to find the intruders.

This time it was the Doctor who took the disguise off and left another green skinned humanoid in its place. "Shimm-err!" Renata struggled hiding her smile. "Now tell me, quickly, what's going on, the Master, Harold Saxon? Skeletor, whatever you're calling him, what's he doing up there?"

The man, Rossiter, helplessly glanced at Addams for some type of explanation. She was beyond trying to stop them. "But I checked the readings. He's done good work. It's operational!"

"Yeah but that doesn't mean it'll do whatever you think it'll do," Renata turned around and looked him and Addams over. "And I'm sorry but who are you? We met another you but, uh, he was a bit small and quite red."

Addams seemed displeased by the comparison. "No, that's a Zocci!"

"We're not Zocci, we're Vinvocci! Completely different!" the male Vinvocci exclaimed, sounding just as offended as his co-worker.

"Alright, sorry," Renata raised her hands over her chest to show she truly had meant no offence.

"And the Gate is Vinvocci. We're a salvage team!" Addams explained before they got any ideas that they were also intruding. "We picked up the signal when the humans reactivated it, and as soon as it's working, we can transport it to the ship."

"But what does it do?" the Doctor frantically waved a hand for them to start explaining the useful stuff.

"Well, it mends, it's a simple as that. It's a medical device to repair the body. It makes people better!"

"No that won't do," Renata shook her head, confusing the two Vinvocci for a second. "The Master would never help fix a machine meant to heal people."

The Doctor agreed. "There's got to be more. Every single warning says the Master's going to do something colossal." He needed to figure it out before the machine was actually used.

"So that thing's like a sickbed, yes?" Wilf asked just to make sure he wasn't completely lost. He was still trying to get over the two cacti people.

"More or less," Addams said.

"Well, pardon me for asking, but why is it so big?"

"Oh, good question," Renata gave him credit where it was due. "Why is it so big?" She frowned when Addams scoffed at the condescendingly, as if they were neanderthals compared to them.

"It doesn't just mend one person at a time!"

Rossiter scoffed along with Addams. "That would be ridiculous!"

"It mends whole planets!"

That revation froze Renata and the Doctor. They simultaneously stared at the Vinvocci, not that their expressions would do anything for them.

"Yeah that'll do it," Renata gave a nod afterwards. That would definitely get the Master's attention.

"It transmits the medical template across the entire population," Addams thought simplifying it further would get the two aliens to stop staring at her so wide-eyed. They looked like the bugs this planet had, the ones that buzzed so much. "What?" she asked when the two still hadn't taken their eyes off her.

The Doctor suddenly bolted from the room.

"What's going on!?" Addams called out but he was too far gone to even hear her.

"The Master, that's what," Renata sighed before breaking into a quick run herself.

The Doctor was good at what he did best, but not even his speedy legs could get him to the main room on time. The Gate was full on running and despite the Doctor's insistence to turn it off, nobody would listen to him. In fact, all he got were rifles aimed at him.

"No, no, no, no. Whatever you do, just don't let him near that device!" the Doctor desperately looked at the Master at the side of the room. The straight jacket on him meant nothing.

The Master seemed to agree with the Doctor's thoughts because he smirked. "Oh, like that was ever gonna happen." He destroyed the straightjacket with a burst of energy then leaped into the Gate with a scream. It forced everyone away out of sheer fear. "Homeless, was I? Destitute and dying? Well, look at me now!"

"Get out of there right now!" Renata ordered as soon as she ran inside. She was out of breath, more so than her last body but to be fair it had been mere hours since she regenerated. Her body strength wasn't entirely back yet.

"Deactivate it. All of you, turn the whole thing off!" the Doctor ordered in vain again. Everyone just stood there.

"God, humans are so frustrating!" Renata exclaimed at everyone. The Doctor started to realize it wasn't so much that they weren't listening but that they couldn't.

"He's...inside my head," Naismith said, frantically rubbing the side of his face.

"Get out of there!" the Doctor snapped at the Master and was shot back in retaliation with an energy bolt.

"Uh, Doctor? Renata?" Wilf came into the room with a stumble. "There's this face…"

"What is it!?" the Doctor rushed to the man as a last resort. He and Renata weren't being affected by whatever the Master had done to the Gate. "What can you see!?"

Wilf shook his head like everyone else was, as if that would shake whatever inside. "Well, it's him. I can see him! I can see his face."

Renata noticed the television was on and whoever it was currently giving a speech seemed to be under the same situation. "Is that - is that the President of the United States!?"

The Doctor ran past her towards the gate to try and shut it all down but the Master had thought well ahead.

"I locked it you idiot!"

The Doctor knew it was useless so be did what he could. He ran back to Wilf and ran towards the booths, grabbing Renata along the way.

"What!?" Renata cried as she'd nearly fell on her own feet from such a sudden pull.

The Doctor pushed Wilf into one of the booths and then pulled Renata with him into the second booth mirroring Wilf's. "I just need to filter the levels so it won't affect us!"

"Could've said something instead of just yanking me away for the ride!" Renata huffed and assisted with the shields.

"Bit in a rush!" He exclaimed.

"Oh! I can see again. He's gone!" Wilf blinked rapidly out of relief. His mind was clear of that maniacal man!

"Radiation shielding. Now, press the button, let us out!" the Doctor pointed to the control pad on Wilf's side. Of course the human didn't understand at the first instruction.

"You what?"

"We can't get out until you press the button, that button there!"

"Oh, okay!" Wilf pressed the button the Doctor pointed to and allowed the two aliens to get out.

"50 seconds and counting!" the Master laughed deliriously at his grand plan.

"To what?" Renata demanded to know but he laughed.

"Ohhh, you're gonna love this!"

The Doctor once again went for the Gate in a last attempt to shut it down. For a moment, Renata wondered if putting a good smack against the Master's head might do some good.

You're not a child, she berated herself. No, she wasn't. She rushed to help the Doctor again, thinking maybe between the two they could come up with a quick solution. Neither of them noticed Wilf accidentally pulling out his revolver while he meant to take his ringing cell phone out.

It was Donna calling, at first, frantic that everyone was acting weird. It both shocking and relieving to learn that she wasn't being affected. Soon after, a friend of Wilf's called saying the same thing.

"What is it? Hypnotism?" the Doctor asked, though Renata wasn't sure if he was asking her or himself. Either way, neither of them knew the answer. "Mind control? You're grafting your thoughts inside them, is that it?"

The Master shook his head condescendingly. Oh, he couldn't wait for them to figure it out because by then it would be too late. Well, he might as well give them the answer. It might be more fun that way. "Oh, that's way too easy. No, no, no, they're not gonna think like me. They're gonna become me. A-a-a-and, zero!" Right at his command a wave of energy burst from the Gate and made its way around the entire globe.

It was then that they realized what the Gate would truly be. Every single human was turning into the Master.

"Doctor! Renata! She's starting to remember, Donna!" Wilf cried from behind. He turned a glare on the Master. "What is it? What have you done, you monster?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you talking to me?" the Master, the original, gestured at himself before gesturing to the other versions of himself in the room. "Or to me?"

"Or to me?" a second Master asked, followed by another, and then another. And then another.

'Breaking news - I'm everyone. And everyone in the world is me!' Even a reporter on television joined in.

Renata felt her head spinning. One Master was more than the universe could handle. She was stunned, and terrified. Very, very terrified.

The Master walked across the floor with his duplicates standing behind him. "The human race was always your favorite, Doctor. But now, there is no human race. There is only... the Master race."

Renata had the good sense to back up as if that would make a difference. She didn't know when it happened but her hand had found the Doctor's in the midst of their horror. He didn't even realize it either.

Everywhere around them the Master laughed thinking his victory was certain, if only he knew the greater work that was being planned ahead…

…or in the past.

~ 0 ~

Doomsday was coming for Gallifrey. The once mighty planet was now crumbling to its last pieces. The citadel barely had any glass in place thanks to the ongoing firing from both sides. Most of its buildings were down or currently smoking from put out fires. There was barely anything left, including hope. But, just because there was barely anything left didn't mean it was over. Lord President Rassilon would never submit to such a travesty.

He sat at the head of a long table in the Council's chamber room. One hand held a long staff while the other hand was covered in an ornate gauntlet. "What news of the Doctor?" he demanded from the other Time Lords in the room.

"Disappeared, my Lord President," one Time Lord answered with a bowed head. It was no secret what that meant.

"But we know his intention," spoke a Time Lady, this one with a head held high. She had a sharpness in her dark, space-like, eyes that would typically scare the others, for when they saw sharpness it meant there would be consequences. "He still possesses the Moment and he'll use it to destroy Daleks and Time Lords alike. The Visionary confirms it."

Rassilon said nothing in the beginning as he focused on the old woman at the other end of the table. She was the only one not subjected to his terrible mood. Right now, she was part of the solution. Her straggly, gray hair covered most of her tattooed arms and face. She wrote fervently on a sheets of papers sprawled around her.

"Ending, burning, falling, all of it falling, the black and pitch and screaming fire, so burning," the Visionary rambled to herself as if she was the only person in the room, perhaps the world.

"All of her prophecies say the same, that this is the last day of the Time War, that Gallifrey falls, that we die, today," the first Time Lord from before spike up again. Before he could say more, the Visionary entered a loop of one word that backed the conversation.

"Ending... Ending. Ending. Ending!"

"Perhaps it's time," said a second Time Lady, this one seeming a bit more nervous than the other and yet she was struggling to keep it at bay. The first Time Lady was staring at her with beedy eyes, but the second Time Lady went on. "This is only the furthest edge of the Time War. But at its heart, millions die every second, lost in bloodlust and insanity. With time itself resurrecting them, to find new ways of dying, over and over again, a travesty of life. Isn't it better to end it, at last?"

The second Time Lady cocked her head to the side, her expression cold and calculating. What a fool. She had no idea what she was saying and much less to who. Their Lord President would never allow for them to die. Gallifrey could not and would not fall. They would survive because they would, because she had the perfect way. That's what she always did, she found solutions to problems. She found the best ones and kept other opinions and suggestions - like the one they just heard - out of the public's ears. She wasn't the Assessor for nothing.

"Thank you for your opinion." Rassilon rose from his chair, turning sideways to the second Time Lady. His expression bore no emotions but what he did next wasn't surprising. With his gauntlet-covered hand, he disintegrated the Time Lady with one hit of energy. Nobody flinched when the woman screamed into oblivion, but they did when Rassilon yelled. "I will not die! Do you hear me?! A billion years of Time Lord history riding on our backs. I will not let this perish. I will not!"

"My Lord," the Assessor stepped forwards, letting her hands reside in front of her, "I do have another solution." Her lips quirked only slightly when Rassilon gave her the attention. He always did. Her reputation preceded her. The Assessor was known for her logical, calculating solutions that had often brought them the best results. She was first and foremost professional, even when it was impossible to be. Not even the loss of her parents and her own husband months ago knocked her off. She kept going because that's what needed to be done. That's what was expected of her. And she always did what was expected of her.

"My sister, Renata, could help capture the Doctor before he uses the Moment. She could convince him not to use it."

However pleasing that sounded, Rassilon could not fully believe that one woman was smart enough to outwit the Doctor. "Explain yourself at once, Assessor."

The Assessor nodded, though she would struggle explaining the story given the contents of it. It was something she forced her mind to erase over the centuries but now was the time to bring it all back for their salvation. "Forgive me my Lord, for this is...an embarrassment to my family. Centuries ago, before the Doctor and my sister were each married, they had a relationship. I don't know how long it had been but when I caught them, I forbade it." Her darkness settled nicely over her tone, as if she used it constantly...and perhaps she did. Her eyes still turned ice cold whenever she thought of that horrifying period in their lives. How her sister could have done such an atrocity to their family was still beyond her now. "But I suspect that Renata never truly moved on. I suspect the same from the Doctor. If we shall do one more thing may I suggest we use this as a strategy?. Who else to convince him than someone he could never reject?"

"You are sure this could work?" Rassilon questioned.

"It was known that the Doctor's family has since been deceased. There is no one left, only my sister. Her word would carry an immense weight."

Rassilon remained silent for a few minutes. There was no telling what he would decide on. Ultimately, he gave a nod. "Bring her in. Find her and bring her here now."

"Of course," the Assessor bowed her head and hurried out of the room in a purposeful stride.

"My Lord," the first male Time Lord Lord up after the Assessor had gone. like everyone else, he didn't doubt that the Assessor knew what she was doing - her previous doings had given her a high standing reputation amongst their people - but the Time Lord felt like this was something that needed to be addressed. It could be part of their saving. He grabbed one of the Visionary's scrolls and brought it to Rassilon. "There is one part of the prophecy. Forgive me. I'm sorry. It's rather difficult to decipher. But it talks of three survivors, beyond the Final Day, two children of Gallifrey and one child of the Vortex."

Had Rassilon been human, the snap 'excuse me?' might have come out of his mouth. He did a double take at the Time Lord in front of him. "Child of the...Vortex?"

The Time Lord swallowed hard as he nodded. He assumed he was about 2 seconds away from being disintegrated. "Y-yes, my Lord." The symbol, albeit surrounded by incoherent scribbles, was quite clear. Everyone knew the symbol of the Vortex and there it was. However he did denote another symbol, one that took a moment of study, that did make things just a bit more credible. "The Visionary drew a-a...I believe humans call it a butterfly."

Rassilon all but snatched the scroll from the Time Lord's hands. He needed to see for himself but even as he confirmed the Time Lord's words, he didn't understand it. And that wouldn't do. "Names. I want names." He chucked the scroll back to the Time Lord who scrambled to catch it.

His hands shook as he hurriedly searched for the names on the scroll. "It, uh, it foresees them locked in their final confrontation, the enmity of ages, which would suggest…"

Rassilon understood that part perfectly. Everyone knew it. "The Doctor! And the Master. And the third? Who is the third?"

"A-A, uh, a…" the Time Lord scanned the scroll as best as he could, "A daughter. The Vortex Butterfly."

Rassilon glared at the man before him. That made absolutely no sense. His gauntlet may have raised halfway, prompting the Time Lord to quickly add more.

"Renata! Time Lady Renata! She-she merged with the Vortex! The butterflies are part of a human's mind - imagination - and together they were turned into new creatures."

The confusion washed off Rassilon's face to be replaced by utter disgust. Behind him, the rest of the Council exchanged confused glances. Humans were known to be quite simple and primitive. They never questioned the Doctor's fascination with that race on account of his own odd behaviors, but everyone knew Renata was a proper Time Lady. She belonged to a noble family, a family that was well respected for always being the prime example of what was expected of a Time Lord. Though she ran a questionable charity foundation, after she married she went on to become one of the most respectable Time Ladies of Gallifrey.

And now they heard she had merged with a human's mind and created herself anew? That couldn't be.

"But one word keeps being repeated, my Lord, one constant word. Earth," the Time Lord finished just so that he wouldn't be directly under Rassilon's eyes. If he was to be furious let it be with those at fault.

The Visionary gasped at the mention of the blue planet. Her head snapped up, revealing her widened eyes. "Earth. Earth. Earth! Earth! Earth...!"

Rassilon knew not what their clear plan was, but all things pointed to the primitive planet. So be it. "Maybe that's where the answer lies. Our salvation on Earth."

#ocappreciation #doctor who #10th doctor #dw fics #10th doctor fics #dw imagine #10th doctor imagine #doctor who fics #doctor who imagines #oc: Renata Cartwright #fic: the beginning of everything #new faceclaim alert!!!

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