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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years ago

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Worth The Eternity: Dark! Bucky x Reader (Vampire AU + Mob AU + Soulmate AU)

This is for @cherienymphe’s 5K Twilight Renaissance Writing Challenge. Congratulations, keep slaying! I wrote this instead of studying, so pray for my paper please lmao.

A/N: This tired girl tried.

WARNINGS: something between dubcon and noncon present. Triggering, darkish themes.

Summary of sorts: Ever seen Hotel Transylvania 1/2/3? In this AU, mythical creatures exist and have soulmates and you feel a zing if you are blessed enough to encounter them.

"Boss, we narrowed it down to these core three suspects.” A husky voice, slightly muffled by the sack on your head, entered your ears and you had a hard time being calm.

You had been picked up from your office, specifically the basement of Oscorp Industries while entering your sleek silver car. A pinch in your neck and everything comically blurred. Next thing you know, you are waking up with your entire body sore, your muscles and joints screaming and begging for freedom from tight restraints. Your vision is black, as if you are staring into an abyss and your vision is filled with white and red dancing spots forming patterns, maybe from the hours of inactivity.

Muffled noises of protest and scraping of metal against the concrete floor entered your ears and you realized you are not the only one here held captive. You racked your mind for possible explanations but couldn’t come up with one.

You lived a very simple life, even as the vice president of Oscorp industries. No messing around, no rivalries with other employees, no butting heads with the seniors on the Director’s board. Was this a ploy against the company? Or a domination statement against the weaker species, the humans?

Lucky enough for you, you realized you would soon find out as the sound of a shutter opening and metal clanking noisily filled your ears.

“Took you long enough, Scott. Fill me in.” Another brooding voice reprimanded jokingly and a million goosebumps traveled the path of your skin as you involuntarily shuddered.

“Yes Boss. We tracked the missing sum to the account of this man on the left. He has fourteen other accounts under different names and nationalities, pretty hard to trace but not impossible luckily. This proved he is shady so he’s most definitely involved.”

“This ginger on the right, he made the suspicious call with weird words so we believe he pretty much passed the verdict, calling the shots with the codewords. He has had several surgeries, his face is fucking silicon at this point but his DNA showed us his true identity, Mr. Rumlow here is the Consigliere of The Midnight Moon.”

You sat and listened, piecing together whatever you understood. The pack/mob name more than rung a bell, it scared you shitless. You were quick to catch on, realising that you were caught in an inter species scruffle.

“This shit just got interesting folks. Alright, where does Miss Sexy Legs fit in all this?”

The pencil skirt you wore wasn’t the most modest piece of clothing to exist and the spaghetti straps blouse was a bad choice considering the sheer coldness in this warehouse, the temperature only seemed to go down with the entry of your kidnappers but it’s not like you knew this was going to happen.

You could only assume with your legs on display that you were the one being sexualised and talked about.

“We are not sure about her though, that’s why I said suspects. We have proof the call was made from her phone but the videos show her lending it to a creepy stranger at a café. It might be really good acting but it’s highly unlikely. We brought her in because in the transfer of the stolen cash, her account was an intermediary but it’s a good chance that she was tricked when her phone was borrowed by Mr. Rumlow. Also, she’s a human, you see?”

If it was you being talked about, you felt a jot of relief, just a smudge because at least they were aware you weren’t involved in whatever game they were playing. That didn’t necessarily ensure your freedom, but hey, you were willing to take anything at that point.

“That’s the sweet fucking scent I keep on smelling!” The leader exclaimed as if he made a great discovery, a cure for a pandemic or cancer you’d think. His gruff voice almost had a light, cheery undertone to it, too unlike of a man who was wronged and cheated and was close to murdering someone no doubt. These mobsters are always maniacs like The Joker.

“It sucks that you brought her here. She might not be guilty, but now she knows too much. She’d make a good blood bag though. Maybe I’ll just have a taste, who knows?” The ‘boss’ made a disturbing slurping noise and your heart stopped at his words, a tear almost escaping your eye.

Discussion about drinking blood? You were most definitely in The Vamps territory, your assumption about the inter-species conflict true. You had no doubt you were the weakest in this creepy space, the frailest here, most probably the only human.

“Show me the bastards’ faces.” Like the flip of a switch, the joking man swapped his personality and all but growled. You heard the ripping of cloth and a man gagging, his shrieks muffled. Another flurry of movements and another man retching on the fabric could be heard.

“Well, hello Mr. Rumlow. I must say, brown suited you better.” A horde of chuckles made you widen your eyes, even though only black still filled your vision, as you realised there were at least a dozen twisted, sick men in the room. The fact that they were silent as fuck till now only showed you how disciplined and regimented these soldiers were.

“This one has a pretty face, boss.” You felt the sack ripped off you, and your eyes closed with the sudden flooding of the lights. Your eyes sealed due to hours of inactivity and you kept them shut, afraid to face your tormenter.

A cold hand cupped your cheek and straightened your face that was trying to hide itself in your silky locks by curling in your own neck, the cool metal of rings and insanely icy fingers chilling you literally.

“Open your eyes sweetheart.” A voice called out behind you and you gathered enough courage to face your impending doom, the air as silent as the calm before a storm.

Your orbs opened and gazed into piercing sapphire blue eyes and everything behind this chiseled face blurred. You could swear a ring of pink and red passed over his eyes and you shuddered again, getting overwhelmed due to the eye contact yourself. This wasn’t the usual anxiety you felt while meeting new people, it was somehow both a pull and a push. An inviting comforting pull and a terrifying, ‘stay cautious' push.

You, a self-sufficient woman, who had been independent for as long as you could remember, suddenly felt half; incomplete in a way that you couldn’t fathom. You felt an attraction, a tug towards the man in front of you, and the absurdity of the thoughts and emotions that popped in your brain made you heave on the gag.

Your intellect couldn’t find a reason, your view on love and romance until now completely conflicted. You believed soulmates to be separate pieces of art that complemented each other when together; then what was this broken jigsaw puzzle sentiment you were having now?

Your wide eyes somehow managed to break free of his stare, panicking and looking around to observe, which wasn’t comforting in the least as men with guns and gadgets filled your vision. You were relatively unharmed in comparison to the beaten lads beside you, one with a bruised face and the other with a bloody one.

The handsome man, the Boss’s stare didn’t leave you through the entirety of your searching around, you were sure they saw you as a scared little rabbit, waiting out its inevitable death.

“Lost in her eyes, Boss?” The sideman cracked what he believed to be the funniest joke in existence, earning laughs of the horde of the soldiers around.

Your eyes went to the Boss’s face, surprisingly when his left your face to glare a nasty stare on his trusted man. His muscular form raised the forelimb, his hand signaling to stop, that effectively quietened the room to a pin drop silence.

With gentle fingers, the man took off your gag and yours lips quivered, throat too dry to make a noise though. You greedily gulped the air through your mouth for whatever reason, maybe just to move your jaw after hours of inactivity.

Maintaining eye contact was challenging, arduous to say the least. It seemed as if he could read you, find everything about you there is to find by studying the flecks in your orbs. His delicate hands, loosened the ties and you were now more so confused, along with the trepidation.

Just what the fuck was going on?

Bucky had almost lost hope, centuries on this planet and no one to love and cherish, no personal confidante, no soulmate. But good things take time, right? And in his opinion, best things take an eternity. He knows this now.

Expect the unexpected was the truest phrase, idiom whatever it was, in this moment. He had spent countless nights wondering about his soulmate, was she pretty? Ugly? Was she even a she or not? Dumb or witty? He made a lot of scenarios of how they’d meet, the kids, reigning together. He entertained the idea of her being from a different species, a nymph, an orc, maybe a werewolf?

And now that he found her, it was a revelation, a surprise honestly. After all optimism got evaporated, after traveling the dark tunnel for centuries literally, there she was, his beacon of light. Finding her was a wonder, and her being a human was astonishing, a possibility he somehow failed to consider, but he was over the moon cause there she was, right in front of him now. A beautiful, stunning lady in flesh and blood, human flesh and blood, with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. His zing.

He always liked humans, apart from the similar appearances the vampires shared with them, they were always docile and accommodating. In the last few millenniums, after the mythical creatures showed themselves to the world, the humans understood their place and tier pretty early.

They were smart to surrender and be peaceful as all the species came to light, clever to know that even with less numbers they could be overpowered and bloodshed was detrimental to all involved.

He knew he would convert you soon though, your lifespan far too short for his liking, and obviously, now that he found you, you were to rule together. For Centuries.

His happiness was over taken by the realisation that you were not in the most hospitable settings, you were tied and strapped, being preyed on by his men. He made quick work of the restraints, allowing you to breathe by loosening them first. Your scared, trembling form plucked his unbeating heart’s strings, but strangely enough, his brain found amusement and he felt smug. Seeing you tied up and trembling was definitely a turn on for him, noted.

After commanding his foolish men to stop giggling, he leaned closer to you, your aura comforting and intoxicating as he smelled your hair. A divine scent, an addictive one for sure. The goosebumps on your skin confirmed the reciprocation of his connection.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you.” His husky voice, calming but imposing resonated in your ears, his hand tapping your cheek on the other side. Even though the private statement was whispered for you, the deafening silence made every person witness it.

He leaned back, his hands behind his back as he grinned, tone again light like earlier and commanded, “Get her out of here and cleaned up, tell Nat and Wanda, they’ll know what I mean. Then we’ll deal with these guys here, after the lady leaves of course. No scratch on her from this point forward or you’ll lose a limb. Proceed.”

All three of you, the hostages were going to get ‘taken care of’ but in different ways.

It had been over twenty hours for sure, you were abducted in the early hours of the morning and now the moon was out again, like one endless night. You remember being escorted to a sleek black car; your limbs ached but you managed to keep up. You tried to keep up with the car’s turns, trying to memorize the streets but your head was pounding and eyes were blurry.

You remembered being led to a suite in an expensive hotel like ones where your conferences were held, being taken to room and given towels to clean up. You didn’t change the dress when given another, the attire being a summer dress even shorter. A woman came a while later named Wanda who checked the forming light contusions and scuffed skin with hands so delicate, as if you were precious cargo. You were, you just didn’t know.

You didn’t eat anything they provided and after hours of conspiring and overthinking, you heard sturdy footsteps. Since your arrival, only women bothered with you, probably the ones the leader sent. But these were heavier, harder.

The door opened and you glanced up to find the leader who demanded your locking up in this fancy place, his eyes travelling on your form sat up on bed, as you mindfully pulled your skirt down. You were anxious the entire day, dreading your future but nothing was like the restlessness that ran through you in this person’s presence.

Maybe it was the fact he was a vampire, or the leader of a Mob or maybe both, but whatever it was he intimidated you, alarmed you, even though you’ve had only two encounters including the present one. You were smart to be scared, he looked at you like, like you were something to eat, your mind told you.

“Hey.” His raspy voice caught you off guard, not having heard a single syllable out of the women the entire day, your questions being ignored the entire time.

You stared at him warily. Your mind having a myriad of emotions and thoughts. You didn’t want to trigger him, besides the place being armed well, he was a vampire, a beefy one at that and you would be stupid to try anything. Shouting and making a scene was no good either, your best option being the lamest one: to talk it out. You refused to become a willing blood bag.

You let out a long sigh, surprising him somehow, “Look, I have money, resources in the business sphere, information, what do you want? I know I got caught in this by accident, but I’m willing to do a lot of things to get out. Name it and I’ll do my best.” You said with your ‘business deal’ voice, the wise, guiding leader voice from your office.

For some reason though, the man found it hilarious. He slapped his hand on his chest, his boisterous laugh echoing. It wasn’t that good a joke if he believed it to be one. Men, ever so condescending.

“Humans, ever so gluttonous. I don’t want your money, precious.” His term of endearment didn’t fall short to your ears, but you had larger things in play here than a sweet nothing.

“I have other things to offer, name it.” Within your moral sphere, of course.

“You still don’t get it, do you? And you humans boast you have everything figured about us.”

He neared you and you leaned to the inner area of the bed, refusing to get cornered to the wall if things escalate and wanting to have the option of running away, probably in vain though. With each step he took, a new shudder ran through you because of the closing distance between your bodies, it getting triggered in unexplainable ways.

You didn’t need to say words to prompt him to explain, your scrunched eyebrows already doing that mission. “You should feel it too, you know? The goosebumps, the bewilderment in your insides, you’re intoxicated by my very presence too, aren’t you?”

The more he neared, your breaths quickened visibly, his words becoming truer. Your skin heating, mind losing a bit of consciousness. His presence didn’t affect you to this extent in the warehouse, but now? You were putty, almost incapable to think. You tried to roll over to the other side but your plan failed because he caged you with his bulky hands on your shoulder, body diagonal across yours. With how slow and out of it you were, he didn’t even need his heightened speed to trap you.

“Oh, it’s kicking in, isn’t it? The realization, the surge of love and lust? To be held and cherished and be full of me?” He smirked at your trembling form, your chest heaving and weak arms trying to push him off.

“I’ve read humans feel flushed, hot, so let’s get you out of these scraps, yes?” He slid off the thin straps while you mumbled a very unconvincing ‘stop’. Both actions were pretty pointless because he wouldn’t stop, you both knew that and also, he ended up taking the top off over your torso the normal way.

Your hands barely managed to land themselves on his wrist to pull them off, but the foolish limbs ravished in the feel of his cold skin instead. It was like a high you had never experienced and your body wanted more. It was already addicted to the feel of this stranger whose name you didn’t even know.

He unzipped the skirt, your pathetic body no longer even fighting him as he rambled on. “Among us vampires, well not much to tell but we’re all freezing cold when we find our ‘zing’. Like every normal day. Except for the inability to think and the need for their mate’s blood, of course.”

He came back up to kiss you, his body now in line with yours as one hand held your cheek and the other groped your breast. You had an out of body experience, feeling disgusted for reciprocating the kiss but also wanting more of that, more of him.

He trailed down your neck to your collarbone and you gasped for air, your thoughts incoherent. He kissed between the valley of your breasts, removing the bra sometime in between as you heaved. He wanted nothing more than to rest in those swells for an eternity.

As soon as cold air hit your nipples, one was being sucked while other was being pinched. The nameless stranger alternated between licking like a kitten and sucking like a baby on the breasts. Your rational part felt gross but the dominating side was the one experiencing delight.

He kissed down the sternum, to your bellybutton and then hovered above the thin, flimsy underwear. His hands slid down your sides, down the curve of your waist and hooked themselves at the cloth’s side, pulling them down in a swift motion.

Your legs quaked, trying to close themselves but one muscular arm on your thigh was able to hold them off, throw one away from the other. He leaned down and you were pathetically still under his muscles, your lower limbs either not daring to move or not wanting to.

You wrapped your hands around your torso to hide a bit of yourself, but did that really matter in the larger picture of the events unfolding right now?

You closed your eyes, tears already escaping since minutes ago as you tried to accept the reality of what was happening. A cold sensation on your little button caught you off guard; an infinitesimal fraction of time later, an inhale reached your ears.

You looked down, opening your eyes to find the man smelling you, his Grecian nose poking through your folds and taking in sniffs of your intimate part.

“Please sto-”

“The scent at its source, so fucking divine. I want a taste.” With that, your sentence got interrupted by his words and then by his action as his tongue licked away. It sucked on the bead, delving in the cavity there pretty fucking deep and he slurped away like he pretended to do when you were blindfolded.

Your back arched like a gymnast, hands that were folded across your chest clawing at your own skin, leaving marks behind. His hands were hooked around your thighs and they threw your legs on his shoulder some point in between. When he thrusted three fingers at once, an audible wheeze left your lips, your noiseless gasps now hoarse ‘Aah’s and you could feel him smirk.

There a also a lot of teeth involved with his razor sharp canines that appeared out of nowhere during this and when he thrusted his fingers particularly hard with his teeth nibbling on your sensitive bud, you shamelessly let go of the inside flow.

It felt humiliating and mortifying, your body glowing with the aftereffects of descending into bliss while your mind wanted to cry. Your soul was surprisingly content with what unfolded, at peace. You hated the diversity of emotions you felt, revolted to find even a bit of positive sentiment at your assaulter’s actions.

While your inner monologue happened, the man got up and out of his clothes painfully quick. You tried to sit your up, feebly trying to escape but ineffectively so. Your eyes couldn’t meet the handsome stranger’s nor did you want to see him naked and removed him form your eyeline, making you get caught off guard when his hands wrapped around your ankles and pulled you down, finishing the small distance you managed to crawl up.

His hands left their place as he kissed his way back up your flushed skin, from the swell of your ankle to the swell of your stomach. He licked away the drops of blood around the crescent scratches left by your nails under the intense ecstasy he forced upon you. Then he continued his journey from the swells of your chest to the swell of your cheek, taking you in a fiery, needy yet affectionate kiss.

Your surroundings blurred a second into the kiss, mouth and skin hungry for his touch alike. A thrust had you painfully gasp as you were stretched unlike ever before, impaled to a depth unlike ever before. He kissed away your tears that continued to spill on command of your ashamed mind and leaned back to look into your eyes, a pretty pink passing over them for a fleeting second.

His blue orbs bore into yours and you almost believed he loved you by the intensity of his gaze. At this moment in time, nothing but you two mattered, connected and finally together. How you got here didn’t matter, how unwilling you were didn’t matter. This felt right, felt necessary and was worthy of everything you went through. The rational part seemed to die the instant you two physically connected and somehow, everything and nothing made sense.

But you felt complete.

Your lips captured his of their own accord, and you both smiled into the caress of your lips while he began thrusting, one hand on your waist, the other supporting his weight. Out of breath, he leaned back, still thrusting though, and gazed at you. “Scott back there, he called you pretty, that’s practically an insult. The way you look right now, you’re much more than beautiful. You’re ethereal, my Zing, the loveliest in existence.”

His genuine words tugged at your heart. For some reason you believed him, had confidence in his feelings. Your foreheads connected as he quickened, his hand caressing your skin, the cool against your warm skin soothing. It didn’t take long for you to let go again this time; your previous resolution already dissolved. He neared your ears and whispered, “I want you to scream my name. It’s Bucky.” You nodded absentmindedly, chasing the high.

One particular thrust paired with his canines piercing your skin made you cry out “Bucky!” and you felt him smirking in your neck, lapping the blood. You wilted in bliss and your eyes closed, warmth filling you minutes after. Your eyes were dazed and you felt ‘Bucky’ shift, removing his towering frame from you, a goofy smile on the chiseled face.

With mind free of the aforementioned disapproving thoughts, you checked out his handsome face. It was like you saw him in an entirely different light now.

He gave you a quick peck, his hands cradling your face and he spoke with the utmost sincerity. “You are worth the wait, precious. No measure of time with you will be long enough. But we’ll start with forever to compensate. I’m never letting you go.”

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i-simp-for-gintoki · 4 years ago

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Itadori Yuji and Gojo Satoru thinking their s/o died

“Hey If you're comfortable can you do Reader with amazing regeneration power ( like deadpool lol ) For Yuji And Gojou? Like they don't know about their power tought they're dead but they just pop up back like nothing happens and explain their power to them? But if you're not comfortable it's okay! thank you” -anon

Sorry this took so long! I literally completely rewrote this like 6 times and decided in the end just to keep it relatively simple and not overly detailed. Gojo’s part includes spoilers from the manga (specifically the Hidden Inventory arc) only because thats the only time i could ever think of a situation where he would see and be near you when you get that injured.

Despite all these rewrites i still hate it-

Warnings: blood and injuries

Itadori Yuji:

Gojo had arrived to the classroom 8 minutes late as usual

Instead of training, he decided to hand out some missions to you first years

“Nobara and Megumi, you two are gonna go clean up a hospital and the surrounding area in the xxx district. Meanwhile, Yuji and y/n are gonna go clear out curses from some buildings by a cemetery in the xxx district. Shouldn’t be too difficult”

“You’re not gonna tell us which buildings?” itadori asks and the blindfolded man simply shrugs

“Your lovely y/n can sense the curses out with the power of love” he explains

You sigh and get up from your desk

“Yeah yeah, lets go Yuji” you say pulling your boyfriend’s hand

“Aw, no cute nicknames?” “Shut up Gojo-sensei” you say making your teacher frown

‘Never should have let gojo satoru of all people know that me and yuji are dating’ you think to yourself

And so you and yuji went off to fulfill the mission

It took a bit to get there but luckily it didn’t take long to find the curses

You decided to stick together as you searched the empty buildings

There was a small handful of the usual low grade curses that you guys took out pretty easily

But just when you guys thought you were done, a high level cursed appeared

“Man, I really wished Gojo-sensei would let us know if theres gonna be anything thats grade 2 or above” you say growing nervous and yuji nods his head

“Don’t worry, i’ll protect you” he says giving you a reassuring smile

And so you guys got serious and fought the curse

You both received a few scraps here or there but nothing too serious

Its when the curse switched up its attacks that it got particularly tricky

Instead of throwing cursed energy around, it shot disc blades out of its arm

You barely had enough time to duck out of the way

It went clean through the wall

“Yuji leave him to me” you say but he immediately denies your request

“No way! I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you got hurt when I could have prevented it”

You were unsure but continued the fight anyways

After both of you sustaining many injuries, Itadori went for the final blow and ended it

Sadly before it fully faded away, it sent one final disc out

Flying straight past yuji, you didn’t have time to react and it went straight through your neck, essentially decapitating you

Your body falling limp onto the ground, the pink haired boy could only slowly turn around to face you

“...huh?”

Eyes wide as they could possibly be he called out your name and fell to his knees

“You’re joking right? Theres no way this really just happened...right?!” he yelled, voice cracking as he stared at your ‘corpse’

“Ooh such a shame. See if you just swapped places with me they would have lived. Atleast they wouldn’t have died to some low level curse” Sukuna said, mouth appearing on his cheek

“Shut up!”

At this point he was bawling

Tears were flooding out of his eyes even tho its only been about 10 seconds

As his shaking hands slowly picked your body up he mumbled a bunch of apologies but stopped when he saw something

Your head was beginning to regenerate

And he has to admit

Seeing your head fully regen like that was kinda disgusting

Opening your eyes, the first thing you see is a teary eyed boyfriend

“Yuji?” You ask and he pulls you into a very tight hug

“I’m so sorry y/n, I let you...I-I thought you died” he choked, still shaking as he held you

You sighed and returned his hug with as much love as possible

“I realize i never explained my ability to you huh? So you know reverse techniques? Its like that but much more advanced. Unless im completely blown away, i’m pretty sure I can’t die. I do however still feel the pain”

He nods his head at your explanation

You guys sit there for a bit as you quietly reassure everything is fine while rubbing his back

You kiss his cheek and stand up

For the rest of the day he is stuck onto you, just glomped on as much as you’ll allow him to be

It really scared him

It happened so fast and if you really had died...he doesn’t even wanna think about how he’d react

When you returned to the school, you didn’t bother reporting back to the principle or gojo and instead spent the rest of the day chilling with Yuji in the dorms

You could deal with the consequences later because for now

Loving yuji and making sure he’s happy is all that matters

Manga spoilers for Gojo under the cut

Second year!Gojo Satoru:

Its not completely accurate to what happened but shushhh

You guys had just come back from Okinawa and despite being on a serious mission you guys had fun

Well you did stay an extra day solely to stay at the beach but no one needed to know that-

But now the fun’s over and you were back at Jujutsu high safe inside its barriers

You could tell Satoru was absolutely finished with this mission, he was completely over it and exhausted

“Im done. No more baby sitting” he said leaning onto you

Resting his chin on top of your head he let out a yawn which made you laugh a bit

“Suguru. You can do the rest with Amanai right? I wanna go sleep and cuddle with y/n” he complained while wrapping his arms around you but suguru snapped back

“Huh? You think you can just walk away with them before the biggest part of this mission??”

He wanted gojo to see the mission through to the very end and not just ditch to go ‘cuddle with y/n’

When the boys continued to argue, gojo unwrapped his arms from you as he stepped closer towards getou

Sighing you gave riko a look and apologized which she simply smiled at

You only meant to take a step forward to intervene

Only a single small step

But your instincts where screaming that you push Satoru away with no second thought

Why did you follow your instincts so quickly? Why shove him so hard that he almost fell over? And why was there a searing hot pain in your gut?

“Im surprised you managed to push him out of the way on time, makes this whole effort for assassinating pointless don’t you think?”

As you slowly looked down you finally realized a sword had been stabbed into you, and that there was a new face right behind you

Ah, thats why then

“Y/n!!” Satoru yelled, blue eyes widening as he saw blood seep through your clothing and onto the concrete

As he and suguru instantly went into battle mode, the sword was harshly ripped out towards your side and cut an arm off in the process

As suguru used curses to hold toji back, satoru swore he teared up a bit as he picked you up and moved to a more safer spot

He couldn’t lose you, literally anyone but you

He’d be willing to die if you got to live

“Y/n your stomach..and arm..!” he yelled watching the blood pour out of you and showing no sign of stopping

Which just made him grow more and more panicked

You could feel his arms tremble as he held you and see that it was taking everything he had to not let the tears spill

“I-I don’t--this..this is my fault! The second i stop using my power this happens to you!” his emotions where spiraling more and more out of control

He couldn’t even see that the blood had already stopped

“Nothing is your fault Satoru. You can deal with the blame game later and instead go deal with the situation at hand” “But-”

“Satoru. i’ll be fine, focus on the enemy and protecting Riko.” you say wincing, already feeling it everything heal itself

“Fine?? Those injuries arent a ‘im fine’ injuries--!” you cut him off by harshly placing your hands onto his face to help him snap out of it

“Satoru. Im perfectly fine okay? So stop panicking.” you say pressing your forehead to his, though it was a bit awkward since he was taller than you

(if your taller than 190cm props to you and just ignore that part)

“Huh? Can reverse techniques be this advanced for shamans?” he asked, eyes still wide as he gently placed his hand on yours

He was in complete awe that your arm was back and looked perfectly normal

“My ability is basically a more advanced version of Shoko’s ability. I can regenerate anything and will be perfectly fine even if i lose my head. So ignore me for the time being and go kick the intruders ass” you say and he takes a deep breath before nodding his head

“wish you could have told me this before so i could have prevented all this panic” he said making you feel really guilty

“sorry! it just never came up before” you say flexing your regenerated arm, seeing if it felt right or not

You watched as he took off his sunglasses and handed them too you and turned towards Toji who was busy slaying a curse suguru threw at him

“Suguru and I will take Riko to Master Tengens place, im leaving this guy to you okay? Not like he’d win anyways, since after all-” he cut off what you were saying with a kiss before smirking

“After all, Im the strongest”

#itadori yuji x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #itadori yuji #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #manga spoilers #kinda

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herinsectreflection · 4 years ago

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Faith, Buffy, Dreams, and Secret Kisses

This is one of my favourite scenes in the series. Partially because it’s just my personal jam - I admit that I am Fuffy trash, and I have a real love for dream sequences. Buffy had great dream sequences, but this is where they take a step up. It’s a precursor to Restless in this regard and others. It feels weighty and meaningful, but also a little off and incongruent with itself, in that way that only dreams are. Lines are exchanged that don’t quite follow as direct responses to each other, clashing in interesting ways. It’s packed with foreshadowing, metaphor, and other juicy things. And beyond that, it’s a conclusion to Buffy’s entire arc this season about dealing with her shadow self, and it leads to what I think is the single most romantic moment in the series. I want to talk about this scene and unpack some of what I think it’s saying.

First of all, let’s talk about the setting. We’re in Faith’s apartment, bought for her by the Mayor. Essentially, the villain’s lair, where the two Big Bads plotted their evil plans against our hero. But it’s also a set where we saw most of the bonding and semi-familial love between Faith and the Mayor. A place of both evil and love. And for Buffy, a place of trauma. This is where she makes the decision and takes the action to kill another human. I don’t think she was unjustified in doing so, but it’s still an immensely traumatic act for her, and I think she loses a little part of herself when she does it. The location is very much a reflection of Faith, and Buffy’s relationship to her. I don’t think Buffy loves Faith romantically at this point, but I think she cares about her, and remains concerned about her, and I think it’s fair to call that a kind of love. Faith is also evil, a figure of betrayal but also temptation to the “dark side”. And she is also a figure of trauma, clear deep-seated trauma that she fails to resolve, and just gets worse over the course of the season. Buffy is essentially inside her own relationship to Faith, inside a stadium of sin, trauma, love, and shattered glass. Faith looks out of the broken window that they fought through, and we are reminded that their relationship too is broken, unrepaired, littered with the detritus of conflict. There’s no going back from this - even in dreams that window remains broken, and their relationship will always have this damage.

The props too are an interesting choice. TPN’s video on Graduation Day pointed out the painting of a giant snake with a man’s head on the wall. More conflicting feelings here - the Mayor is Faith’s closest connection to humanity and love right now, and also the reason for her betrayal of Buffy. Her redemption and damnation. We also see boxes of various things piled up - including the crossbow that Faith stole in Bad Girls. The image of packing up a room into boxes makes me think of moving away as a student. We must remember that Buffy is graduating today, on the verge of packing her life away and taking it somewhere else, and this reminds us of that.

The first thing of real substance we see is the cat, which jumps up on Faith’s bed. This is one of the aspects of this dream in direct conversation with Restless, where a cat symbolises the Slayer - a specifically feminine, solitary predator that stalks the night. In Restless, we cut to Miss Kitty stalking the camera from shots of the First slayer stalking Willow. Here though, the intercut images are between the cat and Faith, lying bruised and helpless in a hospital. The cat (and the Slayer) is, as far as Buffy is concerned, not a danger but a creature in need of help.

Buffy: "Who's going to look after him?" Faith: "It's a she. And aren't these things supposed to take care of themselves?"

They’re very clearly talking about their respective approaches to slaying, and to life in general. Buffy tries to encourage ties to humanity, telling Faith back in Revelations that she is on Faith’s side. Faith retorts that she alone is on her side, and she repeats that sentiment here. But Buffy is obviously proved right - Faith is lying almost dead because she rejected all help and care.

Buffy: "A higher power guiding us?" Faith: "I'm pretty sure that's not what I meant."

If the cat is the Slayer in this conversation, then the “higher power guiding us” could refer to the Watchers. It makes sense that Buffy delivers this line with a little wry smile, given that she’s just resigned herself from the Council. This allows a little bit of ambiguity in their debate - Buffy has taken on a little bit of Faith’s advice in emancipating herself and so making herself as the Slayer more self-reliant. The show agrees that that too is the right move. A little independence is good and healthy. What Faith means when she talks about “taking care of herself” is not self-reliance or independence, but emotional hardness and self-marooning to avoid hurt. This is something that Buffy will continue to struggle with for the rest of the series. Faith is kind of right when she states that the Slayer is alone and must take care of herself, and it’s up to Buffy to find a healthy way of dealing with that.

"Oh yeah. Miles to go - Little Miss Muffet counting down from 7-3-0.”

The scene shifts a little, and we get some foreshadowing for Dawn (Little Miss Muffet), and for Buffy’s death (730 days from now). This is done with the the lighting too, as Faith faces the camera, and the light of the dawn hits her face, in a shot extremely similar to the end of The Gift.

Interestingly, Faith is repeatedly used in this way. In This Year’s Girl, Faith talks about “little sis coming” as she and Buffy make the bed in her first dream. In Restless, that scene gets a callback (”Faith and I just made that bed”), in a scene that ends with the most anvilicious foreshadowing (”Be back before dawn”), as well as a callback to the 7-3-0 line (”Oh, that clock’s all wrong”). In Graduation Day, Faith refers to Buffy as being “dressed up in big sister’s clothes”, however to me Faith has always felt more as being the “little sister” in this relationship. She looks up to Buffy yet is also deeply jealous of her. She wants to be Buffy, to have her friends, her life, the love of her mother. She’s kind of a precursor to Dawn in this respect, so it makes sense that she’s a prophet for her coming.

Slayers having prophetic dreams is well-established, so it makes sense that a dream shared by two slayers would allow them to prophesise a little further ahead in time. Faith hints at this, remarking "Sorry, it's my head. A lot of new stuff.". You have to wonder what other “new stuff” Faith is becoming aware of. Perhaps a new perspective on everything Buffy’s been saying all season. Sharing a mind temporarily is often helpful in seeing another’s point of view. Faith does seem unusually thoughtful as she looks out of the broken window and remarks "They are never going to fix this, are they?".

This is perhaps my favourite line in the scene. It’s a slight mislead, as it comes right as we get a flash of the cat-as-Faith in the foreground. So we assume it’s a reference to her own injuries, which she is expected to never recover from.

But the Faith that’s talking isn’t looking at her own body. She’s looking at the broken window. The symbol for her broken relationship with Buffy. She has become us, the audience, looking at Buffy and Faith and saying “boy, those crazy kids really are never going to work it out, are they?”. It’s true for Faith, it’s true for Faith&Buffy, and it’s true for Buffy herself. When that knife entered Faith’s gut, all three were irrevocably changed forever. You can never put back the life you had before after it’s broken like that. All you can do is take what you can work with, and try to make something new.

Buffy: "What about you?" Faith: "Scar tissue. It fades. It all fades." Buffy confirms that the previous line was not about Faith specifically by asking “what about you”, in a lovely expression of concern. After everything, Buffy does still care about Faith. Faith’s reply of “scar tissue” is an obvious reference to the literal wound she is now carrying (emphasised by the shot of the knife that Buffy sees afterwards), but it’s interesting that she gestures to her face when she says this. It feels like a reference to her entire self. If we accept Faith as Buffy’s shadow self, then “scar tissue” is an accurate description of her. As Buffy herself says, Faith is who she could be if her life was worse (or, perhaps, who she would be if she allowed the tragedies of her life to rule her). She is the part of Buffy’s unconscious self that is revealed after receiving violence. She is the physical proof of trauma. The self that remains after pain.

Buffy: “Is this your mind or mine?” Again, hitting that note of symbiosis; emphasising how inextricably tied these two characters are. The lines between their psyches are blurred to the point of no longer existing. This is such an intimate moment, almost sexual, with Buffy and Faith unable to tell where their own mind ends and another begins. Imagine the intimacy of that - entering another’s mental space and allowing them into yours, so wholly that they become one and the same. It becomes a mutual recognition of unity and shared pain, and an affirmation of the eternal divisions between them.

I love the ambiguity of the “human weakness” line too. One way we are invited to read it is that Faith is doing a heel-face turn, and intentionally giving Buffy the means to defeat the Mayor. But we’re not allowed anything that easy, to wash away Faith’s sins with a quick redemption before the climax. Faith has miles to go before she can achieve that. It’s just as likely that Faith is talking about herself, and the human weakness that led her down a dark path, or that Buffy is talking about Faith through the Faith in her head, or Buffy is just working it out on her own, etc, etc. This is the information that saves the world, and I like that it remains an unknown. A permanent “maybe”, just as Buffy and Faith’s relationship is.

Buffy: "How are you going to fit all this stuff?" Faith: "Not gonna. It's yours." Buffy: "I can't use all of this!" Faith: "Just take what you need. You're ready?"

As the scene reaches its climax, we see the most obvious recitation of the season’s themes. S3 is about Buffy coming into conflict with her own shadow self, and here the show tells us how she does that - by taking what she needs. I mentioned earlier that we saw the crossbow from Bad Girls, from the “want/take/have” scene. Here, Faith is telling her the same thing, but in a more healthy way. She cannot just hedonistically consume everything like a crazed id-monster, but she also cannot deny herself things that she needs.

Most importantly, the “stuff” they are referring to is Faith’s, but as Faith says, it’s also Buffy’s. Everything that Faith is, Buffy is too, because she is her shadow self. Buffy must recognise this, accept it, and incorporate the shadow self into her own identity. She cannot be consumed by the shadow self and simply become Faith, allowing her shadow to consume her conscious personality (”how are you going to fit all this stuff?”). Instead she must recognise her dark mirror, and take the healthy parts, and integrate them into herself as an individual (”take what you need”).

It is at this point of healing and merging between Buffy’s self and shadow self that Faith reaches out, almost touches her in an action that feels so tender, and Buffy becomes conscious. She literally becomes her conscious self by making peace with her dream (unconscious self). She stands up, and walks over to Faith’s bed. This is the moment that their relationship all season has been leading to. She leans over, and places a kiss on her forehead.

This kiss is everything. It’s an act of thanks, as Buffy realises Faith may have given her what she needs to save the day (at the cost of Faith’s one familial figure). It is an act of service, as Buffy literally gives Faith the kiss she asked for when they started to fight in Graduation Day. It could also be an act of forgiveness. We know from I Only Have Eyes For You that forgiveness, Buffy learns, is done not because somebody deserves it, but because they need it. Faith at this point probably does not deserve it, does not want forgiveness (she wants to be punished), nor can she recognise it in her current state, but Buffy gives it anyway, adding another layer of heartbreak. It is given not for any purpose, but for its own sake.

Above all though, this is an act of recognition. We must consider the previous forehead-kiss that these two shared, back in Enemies, and Faith’s words directly before: “What are you gonna do, B, kill me? You become me. You're not ready for that, yet.” And in Graduation Day, just after Buffy stabs her: “You did it. You killed me.” And her words in the dream, just a few seconds ago: “You're ready?"

Now I don’t think that Buffy stabbing Faith to save Angel is morally equivalent to Faith voluntarily killing people to help an evil guy become a big snake. I don’t think the show wants us to think that either. But the line is firmly blurred. Angel says in Consequences that the act of taking a life will change Faith irrevocably, and Faith agrees. She sees herself as tainted from that point on, and if Buffy took her life, she would be tainted too. And though it’s understandable and morally defensible, there’s no doubt that a part of Buffy - her innocence - dies on that balcony when she sticks that knife in. That act is forever. The choice to do violence is permanent.

So when Faith says “you killed me”, she is saying “you have become me”. She identifies a common nature in them. And when Buffy kisses her, returning it in the exact same way as when Faith first said those words, she is saying “I know”. She recognises and responds to Faith’s mirror by holding up one of her own. She matches similarity with similarity. She is finally “ready” to assimilate her shadow self, and does it by telling her shadow self that she sees her, and that she was right.

The beautiful part of all this is that it is silent. Faith would’ve been aware of their unification in the dreamscape, since it was happening in both of their heads, but she has no way of knowing about this. I wonder if Buffy would ever tell her. I doubt it. This is the core of the Faith/Buffy tragedy. This is why I find this relationship so compelling. Buffy performs this act of recognition and devotion entirely in secret. It is a stolen kiss and a private confession. A whisper made to a sleeping lover. A letter written, sealed, stamped, and set on fire. It is an act of love and tenderness made entirely for its own sake, without witness or reward.

This is the single most romantic moment of the show for me. In this show that in many ways about how when nothing you do matters, all that matters is what you do, what could be more romantic than this gentle kiss that changes nothing against this aching hole of violence and betrayal between them, but exists anyway, just because Buffy felt it needed to be done. It’s a silent moment that nobody but Buffy and us are privy to. Neither Faith nor the rest of the world will ever know it happened, but I know I for one will never forget.

#btvs #buffy summers #faith lehane #graduation day #fuffy #s3 #meta

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therealvalkyrie · 4 years ago

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Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 5

very pretty, very beautiful

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: intoxication, swearing, feelings, nightmare, fluff, mentions of a deadly car accident

AN: WHOAH OKAY. So I’ve been thinking about the last half of this chapter every second of every minute for the last two days. It has haunted my dreams, y’all. Thanks to that, you get this before the weekend! Yay! Special thanks to @ghostlightprincess, @anlian-aishang, @cant-spell-slay-without-lay, and @horseanon--simpforall for helping me edit and giving me many encouragements and compliments which, quite frankly, made my head the size of Jupiter. I love you all dearly. As always, let me know what you think in my comments/DMs/askbox!! Don’t be a stranger!! And be kind to yourself and others<3 ~valkyrie

—

(read chapter 4 here)

“I think you’re very pretty.”

I think you’re very pretty?

Fuck. Shit.

“I-I-I mean,” Levi feels his throat tighten and cheeks set ablaze, “You’re very, uh, very beautiful.” He says it because it’s true, and the truth is what Levi relies on when his brain is short-circuiting. You’re more than pretty, more than something as trivial as very pretty, you’re gorgeous and smart and funny and it makes his palms sweat. Recently, you’ve been everywhere: in his bed, in his arms, in the periphery of his life even outside of the apartment. It’s overwhelming, this is overwhelming, how his hands are on you and how you’re looking up at him with insecure, anticipatory eyes. They’re glassy and red-rimmed, pupils blown to saucers.

Oh. That’s right, she’s high.

Levi lets his hand drop from the top of your head. He tries to move his other hand away from your cheek, but you grasp his wrist to keep it there. He can feel his own pulse fluttering under your fingertips.

“Very beautiful?” It’s soft, hopeful.

He forces himself not to retract the statement (because it’s true) out of self-preservation.

“Very beautiful, kid.” He can say it without stuttering this time. It’s important that you believe him, and it’s equally important that this is as far as it goes.

You close your eyes against the pet name and turn your face into his palm for a split second, press a swift kiss to it and then drop your hand to your lap. His heart stutters. He drops his hand, too.

“Thank you,” the words fall past your lips, careful and distant, as he takes a step back.

He needs some space. To get his head on straight, to scream into a pillow, to talk some sense into himself. Can’t risk this, not with you, not with you.

“Your, um, your pajamas,” he points to the end of the bed where they’re sitting in a neat pile, then turns tail and strides out of your room, shutting the door behind him.

In his room, his jelly legs finally give out and he flops onto his bed.

Fucking hell.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

What kind of question is that? Do you not think you’re pretty? Do you care if he, specifically, thinks you’re pretty, or was it intended more generally? Very pretty, very beautiful. What does that even mean?

Levi may not be eloquent in the least, may not know how to confess that you make his every breath burn in his chest, but he does know how to paint. He stands up, wiping sweaty palms on his flannel pants and examining the painting on his easel. His mom stares back, her eyes sparkling, her hair tumbling over one shoulder in ebony waves. It had taken him the last few days to get the curls just right, and when he added the last highlights of shine, it’d finally felt complete.

“Sorry, mama,” he murmurs as he lifts her to set her against the wall under the window.

A new canvas procured from his closet finds its place on the easel. He sifts through his supply drawers for a moment, setting paints and brushes and charcoal neatly on his desk.

He takes a deep breath, situates himself in his wheelie chair, and leans forward to start sketching.

—

It’s 5 AM when you start screaming in a long, shuddering cry, causing Levi to jolt up in his seat, paintbrush poised over your left temple. It breaks off into sobs that make his gut twist and hands clench. A long moment, then you’re letting out another keening wail and Levi is out of his seat. Paint splatters from the brush where he drops it on his desk and his chair rolls back as he runs, ripping doors open and narrowly avoiding furniture in the dark.

You’re sprawled out, thrashing on the bed, sheets tangled with your legs. Levi sits on the edge of your bed, brows pinched in worry, and reaches for your shoulders. This is okay — he can touch you when you ask for his help. When you whimper and reach for him in your sleep, he can pull you close and smooth a hand across the planes of your back. It’s when you’re looking at him, all trusting and expectant for something, that he’s unsure.

He says your name, low and urgent, once, twice, before your eyes open mid-sob. They’re wide and terrified, your jaw tight, muscles clenched. “It’s me, kid, it’s just me,” he intones, “It was just a dream, you’re safe, it’s just me.”

Your heaving chest slows for a second, hitches somewhere in your sternum, and then you’re launching yourself forward and into him. He catches you there, steady against his chest.

“Breathe.” He sets an example with his own deep breaths.

It’s a long minute before he feels you relax at all, before he feels you sigh against his neck. Your arms are tight around his middle and you must be stronger than you look because after a while it starts to pinch. He doesn’t mind, though, just traces patterns on your back and stares at the pale wall.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He feels you shake your head.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

You hesitate before you whisper, “Only if you stay.”

Levi thinks about the wet paintbrush currently drying to his desk. He thinks about the mess of clothes on your floor. He thinks of the half-finished painting of you in his room. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

You pull back, and he gets a look at your face in the near-dark. Your eyes are still acutely haunted, but they’ve regained awareness. He lets you take a moment to wipe at your cheeks as he reaches to gently disentangle the sheets and spread them more carefully over your legs.

He looks up at you again to catch your sad eyes with his. Your head is tilted quizzically, knowingly, sympathetically all at once as though he were the one who just woke up screaming. It makes him itch.

“What’s that look for?” he grumbles, toeing his slippers off and tucking them under your bed.

“Nothing,” you hum. “Come here, please.”

He blinks at you for a second. That’s my line. But he goes, crawling into bed with you and slipping under the covers. He lets you tug his arm gently so that he’s on your chest. He gets comfortable there, one arm thrown over your waist and head rested over your heart. Your own arms find a home cautiously around him. You exhale with the grounding pressure of his body on yours and let your mind sink into calm release.

—

The knock on your door breaks your attention from your laptop. You sigh, finish typing your sentence, and push your blue light glasses up your nose before standing up to answer it.

You’re not expecting anyone, but maybe Levi is. He’s been holed up in his room all morning, Chopin drifting lazily under his door, probably studying. Like you’ve been trying to. The second series of knocks on your door makes you jog the last few steps to pull it open.

“Hi—” the greeting dies in your throat when you see who’s standing there.

“Hi,” Annie says. She’s standing, nonchalant as ever, in her winter parka and leggings, holding two to-go cups and a pastry bag.

“What?” It’s a breathless question, genuinely confused. It doesn’t harbor the animosity you would expect — you’re not sure you can feel anything other than queasy right now.

“I got your voicemail.”

You blink in confusion. She rolls her eyes and thrusts the to-go cups at you with a brief “hold these” before reaching into her pocket for her phone. You just stare at her while she taps and scrolls for a minute. She looks the same as before you stopped speaking: blonde hair tucked into a bun at the back of her head and hoodie peeking out of the collar of her jacket. Maybe a little more tired, though Annie always seemed to be tired.

She holds up her phone for you to hear as a voicemail starts playing and, to your further shock, your own tinny voice spills out. It sounds like you’re crying, and slightly muffled.

“Annie, hi, um, I know it’s late but I couldn’t think of anyone else to call, I just,” sniffle, “I know we’re not talking and I’m still mad at you, like REALLY MAD, okay? But I couldn’t think of who else to call and long story short I think I’m in love with Levi and he might’ve just rejected me but I just couldn’t tell—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut in across your own voice, stepping into the hall with her and toeing the door almost shut behind you. She stops the voicemail. “But why are you here?” You know why she’s here — Annie never backs down from anything, and you had started the conversation, even if you’d been drunk and high and half asleep and you don’t really remember doing it.

“You called, here I am. That’s what best friends do.” Her tone is even.

“Not best friends who fuck their best friends’ boyfriends,” you snap, anger finally bursting from your stomach and into your throat.

She closes her eyes impatiently, sighs, then looks at you again not quite pleadingly.

“Look, if you want me to leave, I’ll leave. But I’m here now and there’s more to the story that you aren’t aware of.”

“What else could there possibly be?”

“Let’s go for a walk and I’ll tell you,” she offers, then holds up the pastry bag. “I brought coffee and donuts. They’re jelly.”

Jelly donuts are your favorite.

You look down at the cups in your hand. You look back at her steady blue gaze. More to the story.

“Fine.” You turn and kick the door open a little too harshly. “Just let me get dressed.”

She follows you in, even though you don’t extend an invitation, and closes the door softly. You put the cups down on the coffee table and watch her sit in her usual spot on the couch to wait for you out of the corner of your eye. You scowl but say nothing.

It only takes you a minute to shuck off to pajamas and pull on jeans, a sweatshirt, and boots. You don’t bother with a bra.

You knock lightly on Levi’s door and call through, “I’m going for a walk, so make sure to lock up if you leave. I have my keys.” You jingle them as evidence and he grunts in acknowledgment. “Let’s go,” you turn and address Annie, who stands.

The walk down your street to the river is short and habitual, your feet carrying you while your mind races. You can feel the anger and hurt, visceral and stabbing, in your chest. But there’s also something tender there, too, something that acknowledges how you missed your best friend. Something that screams at you to tackle her to the ground and feel her stoic comfort. Instead, you shove your hands deeper into the pockets of Eren’s jacket and kick a pebble, sending it skidding down the sidewalk.

The pair of you reach the walking bridge over the river and pause at the railing. The sky is overcast, threatening a snowstorm. A car beeps downtown, reaching you distantly. Annie hands you a coffee and a donut. You lean against the railing and avoid her gaze.

“So. You wanted to talk. Talk.” You bite into the donut.

She sighs through her nose. “I know what you saw. We… we did kiss, but we didn’t do anything else. We never had sex.”

“Hmm.” A sip of coffee.

“I know you have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. I’m guessing you didn’t exactly listen to Reiner when you broke up with him?”

“I didn’t have time for his bullshit excuses.”

She breaks off a bit of her donut and stares at it contemplatively for a moment, “I know you don’t owe either of us anything, and this isn’t meant as an excuse, but will you listen to why, at least?”

You press your lips together, sneak a look into her devastatingly blue eyes, and nod. What harm can it do? And you have to admit there’s a large part of you that’s been wondering at the why, even if you’ve refused to hear it.

“Okay. Tell me why.”

She takes a deep breath and leans her elbows on the railing before starting to speak, low and pensive.

“I’ve known Reiner and Bertholdt a long time, since we were kids. We’ve always been this… this odd group. You wouldn’t think we were close if you didn’t know us. But it wasn’t always just us.” She pauses, looking distant. “Do you know Porco Galliard?”

Galliard… “He’s a sophomore on the lacrosse team, right?”

“Yeah. Do you know what happened to his brother?”

“He has a brother?”

“Had. Marcel. He was a year older than us but somehow ended up in our little group. And a couple of years ago, senior year of high school, we were all in a car accident. He was home on winter break and we’d all had a little too much to drink, and we convinced him to take us to Denny’s for midnight milkshakes. And, well, there was a winter storm coming in and it’d been freezing rain that week, and we crashed. Marcel died. It was… I hadn’t…” She pauses, tilting her head back to the sky, blinking away tears. “It was horrible.”

Your eyes have gone wide, cast downriver. You don’t know what you’d expected when you walked down here, but it certainly wasn’t this. It wasn’t Annie, only rivaled in her stoicism by Levi, choking back tears and wiping snot from her nose.

“Hey,” you start, voice gentler than it’s been all day. “You don’t have to—”

“No, no, I want to, just... give me a second,” she interjects, wringing out a hand. She takes a deep, purposeful breath.

“Okay,” you whisper, looking back out across the water.

“It, uh, it hit us all really hard, brought us really close together. That’s why we all ended up at school here, actually. It kinda made us realize that, like, time is limited, you know? We don’t have forever. And Bertl, he…” she smiles, watery and reminiscent. “When he asked me out, it felt like a long time coming. It was just about perfect. He felt safe and like home, and… well, you know how in love we were. But I could see that it alienated Rei, at least a bit. He tried not to show it, but I could tell he felt like a third wheel. He was already drifting away from us, still struggling with all this guilt.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That’s a familiar feeling. Guilt. And yet, you’d never noticed it in Reiner, apparently never got close enough to shine a flashlight into his darkest shadows. He’d always seemed so… sunshiney. You clearly hadn’t given him enough credit to dislodge the aura of jock frat boy he projects so brightly.

Soft dough squishes under your fingertips where you’ve resorted to playing with your food instead of eating it as Annie continues.

“And then he met you and fell in love so fast. I was so relieved, I mean, you and I were roommates and it was just perfect, right?” You look at her and see a flicker of hopefulness still there. “I thought maybe you two getting together would bring him back to us, that maybe we’d be alright after all. And at first, it did. But then you moved off campus for sophomore year and he started drifting away again, though he was at least anchored to you, this time. It scared me, it really did.”

She kicks the bottom of the railing lazily, as if to expend the sadness there rather than in her words. The first fat flakes of snow drift down around you. One dances away on your exhale.

“He’s so withdrawn, sometimes, in his own head, and I never know how to reach him there. I didn’t know if he had told you about Marcel, or anything, so I couldn’t go through you. I don’t… I didn’t know what to do, so I just... let it fester. That night, when we kissed, I hadn’t seen him physically for a month. It hurt.”

She looks at you imploringly, like the weight of everything she’s saying lies on deep hurt. You can relate to feeling as though there’s nothing but hurt and guilt and drifting.

“So I figured out where he was from his Snapchat story, abandoned my group project, and went over there to see him. I didn’t know what I’d say or do when I got there, just that I had to get him back, somehow. He was already plastered, you know how he gets, and he wasn’t listening to me, so I just… kissed him. I don’t know what I was thinking, I didn’t know you were there, I didn’t even know you saw until he called me the next day after you broke up with him to chew me out.

“So, long story short,” her voice breaks on a mournful, almost hysterical laugh, “I fucked up the three most important relationships to me in one night because I couldn’t use my words.” She wipes at wet cheeks, not looking at you. “So, um. Yeah, that’s the why, I guess. I don’t expect you to forgive me, or him, but I just… I needed you to know. It wasn’t like, this elaborate affair.”

You aren’t sure how to right your brain from the way it’s tilted off kilter. It’s so much, so different from what you’d built up in your head. There’s no conspiracy, no grand intention to break you.

Even with all this new information, what stupidly slips out first is, “Did he kiss you back?” You blanch, turn to her with wide eyes, “Sorry, that’s not exactly im—”

“No, it’s fine,” she meets your eyes. “He did kiss me back.”

“Oh. Okay, um…” you trail off, bite your lip. You don’t know what exactly to say. Your skin is tight with the urge to forgive her immediately and wholly, but logic holds you back. Now that you know the truth, you need time to heal and get some perspective. You straighten up from where you’d been slouching against the railing. “Okay. You’ve been honest, so I will be, too.”

She stands up fully as well, facing you with one hand on the railing.

“I don’t know how I feel right now,” you start. “I think I need some time and perspective. But, I… I can see now where I went wrong, too. I assumed the worst, didn’t let any communication happen.” You swallow down the lump in your throat threatening to choke your voice. “And, I wasn’t there for Rei like I should have been. I had no idea — no idea! — what he was going through.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly tell you—”

“And why is that?” Your voice breaks, squeaks with the question. “Did he feel like he couldn’t confide in me? Did I make it too much about me and my trauma? I wasn’t exactly shy about telling him my shit.” You take a long draw of coffee. “Anyway. I should probably talk to him, shouldn’t I?”

She nods. “He’d like that.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, watching the sparse snow flurry around you. Annie finally starts eating her donut.

“I’ve missed you,” you confess into the storm. “A lot.”

“I missed you, too.”

Your chest aches with both the cold air and the conflicting feelings of relief and regret.

“Why, uh… why didn’t you tell me all that stuff about Marcel?”

She leans on the railing again, takes a sip of coffee before answering. “I was still working through it. Still am, rather. I didn’t know how to bring it up, or that it was relevant.”

You hum, nodding. “I get that.”

There’s another silence, but it feels lighter, less charged. There are still questions bouncing around your mind, but you decide it’s better to process through them on your own rather than blurting out something stupid. Perspective.

“So,” she shoots you a look under blonde eyelashes, “what’s this about you being in love with Levi?”

“Aw, shit,” you laugh, leaning your elbows back on the railing and giving her an imploring look. “It really snuck up on me.”

“Is that so? Can’t say I’m shocked.” Her tone is dry, a little amused around the last bite of jelly donut. She wipes her fingers on her leggings and faces you. “And you think he rejected you.”

“Well, I…” you cringe, thinking back to last night. “He called me very beautiful.”

“Doesn’t sound like a rejection.”

“It was the way he said it! Like it physically hurt him to admit, and then he just ran out of the room,” you whine, scrubbing a hand down your face.

“I think that’s just his emotional constipation.”

You look at her sharply, mouth agape, to catch her eyes dancing and the corner of her lip curling upward slightly. “Annie!”

“What? I’m right.” She finishes off her coffee, tilting back the cup to catch the last dregs of it. “He likes you, or he’s an idiot if he doesn’t.”

You narrow your eyes in doubt, mirroring her half-smile. “Hmm. We’ll see.”

“Yes,” she promises, crumpling up the pastry bag in her fist and stuffing it in her pocket. “We will.”

—

(read part 6 here)

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #snk fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfic #female!reader #levi ackerman #annie leonhart #swearing #intoxication #painter's hands and guatemalan coffee #valkyrie writes

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malumxsubest · 2 years ago

Note

REFLECT

send REFLECT for me to explain a traumatic event in my muses’s past and talk about their perception of events, which parts have stayed with them longest and how it affects them now. ( sender can request specific scenes/backstory ) | ACCEPTING!

she can remember so vividly without even trying... the deaths of her children. there was nothing that caused such trauma within her entirely long life than their deaths. she can almost smell the burnt wood; the remnant of flames and burning embers on the stake with her childrens’ corpses burnt to ash forms of their formerselves. it wasn’t suppose to happen... none of that was suppose to happen considering what she was! perhaps being on earth made her weak; being around humans made her less than.

amelia awoken with a start within her blood-filled sarcophagus which the top pried itself open right down the middle as if it knows its mistress yearned to get out of its confinement. her chest wound completely healed, saved for a permanent scar enmeshed with her current scar; but she paid it no mind as she rushed toward the lingering traces of her sons’ scent. she was near the heart of the small town, her heart pounding violently against its ribcage while a mantra echoed within her thoughts in desperation --- please let them be alright.

but it will never be alright... the part of her darkened soul left her the moment she recongnized the scene before her. the vampire hunters and townspeople were having a celebration, a triumphant moment of slaying vampires! they did not cease their merriment when they saw her. they cheered, laughed, danced, drunk while encircling themselves around the stake in which her childrens’ corpses stood. the scene brought her to knees in aguish --- they were burnt to NOTHING but ash. their ash forms preserved some of their features, especially their faces whereas their clothing were gone except for faint remnants. the humans cheered loudly once more when they witnessed another vampire crumble in moments of weakness.

yet they knew not what they’ve done....

amelia desperately blinked back her tears as she reached forth to caress her sons’s cheeks only to release a gutteral sob as it tore through her throat when she saw their forms immiedately crumble to a pile of ash --- her hand still hovered at the height where they were. her eyes widen where the pupils formed into mere dots in disbelief. now the the humans were at unease as they observed the creature of the night for they cannot comprehend to waht they’re seeing. they had never seen such a thing; a creature that was not human showing human emotions freely. soon, one by one, they’ve become mildly anxious yet others refused to believe what was happening.

her hands shook while tears have begun to spill freely as it carved its way down her cheeks as she wailed so brokenly into the open. she continued to scream and cry when she she dug her nails into scalp while she gripped the roots of hair; her heart felt as though it was DECAYING within her vessel. SHE CANNOT FEEL THEM! SHE CANNOT SENSE THEM! amelia choked back her cries but it was pathetic. it became watery and withered. her throat was raw and ruined with unwanted emotions wrecking through her like waves crashing against a mountain’s edge.

it felt it lasted for hours but it was merely few minutes until she had gone quiet. she had gone still as if she were a marble sculpture. it was unsettling. it made the townspeople worried for their safety; but it was too late. they cannot leave the town --- and the only way for them to leave was their deaths...

instead of her cries of heartbreak and agony, it was cries of unadulterated fury and wrath. and amelia became the vile creature she was. she attacked the first human was closest to her and crush this poor sod of a man’s skull while she embedded her taloned thumbs into his eyes...

the humans immediately scattered to flee from their consequences and to seek salvation; they didn’t want to die! but when they learned with a startle that they could not leave the premises by a hidden force, they resorted begging for mercy and God. some sought refuge in their church, thinking they were safe from her wrath since the woman was an unholy creature yet released the most delicious fear-filled yowls that blessed her ears when they witness that she did not, in fact, burn in a “holy” ground. amelia slammed the double doors to the Godless building, paying no mind to the madness outside as the remaining humans desperately tried to escape.

the void creature’s body, hands and feet were drenched with blood and gore including the bottom half of her face. the whites of her eyes were black like her essence where as the irises were the colour of hatred and the blood that caked to her frame and clothes while she stared down at the humans huddling together on the stage where a priest would hold his sermons. she stalked toward them steadily, stating that there was no God in the building. that it was husk; that God has abandoned them; and that there will be no light in the end --- only darkness and despair.

in the end, she spared no one; not even children. she wanted nothing but this stain of a town to disappear as if it never existed. AND she did not dare to stop there. she remembered all the names of the townspeople, especially the vampire hunters, and she hunted their families; their entire lineage gone like they were nothing. yet it had done nothing to quench the injustice against her children. she still failed in the end. a mother failed to protect her family.

just before she left the decimated town, amelia had scooped her sons’ ashes into two chipped vaces and carried them with care. she knew for certain that she will be able to resurrect them one way or another. all she had was time.

this is the inspiration for her cries. didn’t do it justice, but i tried lol.

@caracarnn

#ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᵍ ᶤ ᵈᵉˡᶤᵛᵉʳ [answered asks & memes]#caracarnn #the shadows spill across the line; main au #long for ts #tw; death #tw; blood

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thefemdomenchantress · 3 years ago

Text

The Enchantress: the Century Woman

The hero has a specific maneuver for whenever he encounters a sudden possible threat. He does not react offensively, not willing to bear the tragedy of slaying somebody who meant no harm. He simply raises his shield in a manner that anybody would recognize as a threatening way. This defensive maneuver protected him if the possible threat was, indeed, a threat, but allowed non-combatants a chance to explain themselves.

This maneuver was not perfect as it was still possible to interpret the raising of the shield as a promise of battle, but nine times out of ten it prevented an unnecessary fight against a non-combatant.

This time, however, the noncombatant...attacked.

The hero has spent ten minutes fighting the being: a humanoid woman twice as tall as any man. A creature the hero has never seen before in his travels...

Her visage is unnerving. Eyes larger than normal. Her hair silver, but with bright orange ends, and a some evidence of blue strands. Large shoulders beneath her gown of royal blue, and large tentacles for arms that she uses to bludgeon the hero around the abandoned house. Instead of buttons or lace the front of her gown seems a sideways jaw full of sharp fangs. The rare moments the hero got to see her legs beneath her full length gown he saw two long, muscular thighs and calves.

But her voice... her voice is that of a regular woman in her fifties or so. Her cries of battle hold no malice, only fury.

The hero would parry and escape her blows, but he finds himself unable to harm her. His instincts tell him she is fighting out of fear and indignity. He is an intruder, after all.

Hero: Please! Let’s stop fighting! I’m sorry for intruding, I was only here on a job!

The blows stop. The creature woman looks at him. The hero lowers his sword, but does not leave himself unprotected. His shield remains up.

Hero: Recently... the will of the owner of this estate, a duke who died one year ago, has been read. His family was shocked that this summer villa was left not to his descendants but to an unknown woman. I was hired by the family to investigate...

The large eyes of the creature grow at the mention of the duke.

Hero: . . . Is the woman you?

The creature nods. The hero lowers his sword slightly.

Hero: . . . You’re a shape shifter?

She nods again. She sits down on a tall desk, letting documents drop to the floor. It creaks slightly against her weight. She mutters...

Shape Shifter: My lord... left me this house...

Hero: He also left you four hundred silk bills. Enough to live on for quite some time...

The shape shifter looks up at the hero.

Shape Shifter: Money, too? I’m...

She sobs into her tentacles. She seems so human despite her appearance. The hero places his sword against the wall and reaches for a pouch full of money. He approaches the shape shifter but she is too distracted to take the money

Hero: . . .My lady. . . Just to clear things up, may I ask. . . What is your relationship to the late duke and his family?

She calms down, although her story is told between sobs.

Shape Shifter: I have no... no relationships to his family... They have no knowledge of me... I... I was... His alone...

She stands up and ceases her crying. She looks down at the hero.

Hero: This form... is it your original form?

Shape Shifter: No. I am a century changeling. An immortal race who live our eternal lives in one hundred year cycles. At the beginning of each of our one hundred years we take new shapes... But I can not change perfectly. With each form we take there are parts we cannot discard until the end of the century, where we shed our old forms and begin anew...

Hero: Then what is this form?

The changeling smirks.

Shape Shifter: Would you believe me if I told you that fifty years ago I took the form of a regular woman? I was homeless and the duke found out about my race. He took me in, allowed me to stay in this estate, as long as he lived. All he wanted out of me... was my body...

Hero: You... were his mistress...

Shape Shifter: You’re too flattering. He treated me as more of a concubine... Not that I minded...

The hero cannot believe the story. But the way the tall changeling towers over him... Her strange large shoulders were off putting at first, but now that she stands over him they make her look regal...

Her gown is modest, but he notices her rather large bosom...

But everything else! The large eyes... The tentacles... The teeth dress...

Shape Shifter: You have questions... At first he was a plain man... But soon he began to realize the potential of my powers in our sex lives...

Hero: Oh Gods...

Shape Shifter: You know how bizarre men can get. Vanilla sex began to bore him after our first ten years together... He had wants, and needs. I was a good concubine. With just a little encouragement and prying I made him admit some of his fetishes. They were tame at first... He wanted me taller... Shapely, muscular thighs... But as he grew bolder his fetishes morphed. Encouraged by my shape shifting, he wanted stranger things. Tentacles. Technicolor hair...

Hero: That’s almost reasonable compared to the... the um...

Shape Shifter: The dress? Yes, for some reason he wanted my gowns to “swallow him” into sex. Strange and perverse, but I complied.

The changeling’s dress mouth “opens up,” revealing her shapely nude body beneath. The sight causes the hero’s imagination to stir. He shifts awkwardly, hoping the shape shifter does not notice.

Shape Shifter: At first my shoulders were just a natural consequence to support the tentacles, but he soon wanted me to keep them... I never understood that. I suppose it was in fashion for queens and princesses to wear padding beneath their shoulders a few decades ago. He must have been watching those royal dames... The dirty old pervert...

She pronounces “pervert” with a strange fondness...

Shape Shifter: With each strange fetish my body was permanently changed. Large eyes, small fangs, a long dextrous tongue... Now I have become... THIS as a result. I did this all for him, but I was fine. I was fine because he loved it. He lavished my body with praise, and drew such satisfaction from it, and I felt loved. And now he’s gone, and I’m stuck like this.

She wraps her body with her tentacles, as though ashamed... And although she is crying and the hero desperately wishes otherwise, her monstrous form has begun to captivate him...

Her shapely hips, her bright eyes, the handsome curvatures of her mature and aged face...

And as for the parts of her that are not human...

her tentacles are thick and powerful...

her height so domineering...

her bizarre dress that opens and closes like a mouth, so dangerous and yet there was something exciting and arousing at how it can turn from modest but form fitting to lewd and revealing... and could gobble him up...

the shape of her large, muscular shoulders were the hardest to latch onto, but the hero has found himself aroused even by them, longing to touch them...

Shape Shifter: I can’t leave this house! I can’t change into something normal now. I’m trapped. Even with the money he’s left me. For a year I came close to cursing his name. How could I not? I never knew he cared enough about me to mention me in his will... I... There’s no one out there who could appreciate this body but him... No one can love this bundle of strange, ghastly fetishes... My only hope being that it is almost time for my form to renew...

The hero’s body seems to disagree. Behind his shield he hides a barely controlled erection. He takes a step back, praying she will not notice... Notice that he is weakening...

Hero: I’m sure it’ll all work out...

Not good. The changeling looks down at the hero. She noticed the nervousness in his voice. Her tentacles unravel around her body, her gown opens slightly. She approaches him...

Shape Shifter: Young man...

Her tentacle easily whips his shield away... He tries to hide but she holds him still... She gets a good look at his blushing face... and very visible lump in his pants...

Shape Shifter: It can’t be...

The hero can see her nude body within the toothy split of her dress... The duke must have at one point had normal desires, as her breasts are large, though they droop and there are visible veins like any regular human at a certain age. But they are still beautiful...

Her waist is large and round...

Her legs are muscular as tree trunks.

The hero is utterly captivated. The changeling’s “grotesque” and “inhuman” face that he once feared looks down at him. There is a light smirk, a brightness in her large eyes...

Shape Shifter: Young man... please take off your clothes...

The hero’s panic and attempt to flee is short lived as the tentacles bind around his limbs tight. He can’t resist as she pulls him closer... Her dress’s mouth opens wide and he sees her bare body.

Shape Shifter: I can’t believe you, boy... You’re just as depraved as my young lord, and at such a young age...

She pulls his face to hers and kisses him. Her long and dexterous tongue invades him and it is wonderful. He squeals in protest, but also in passion.

Her tentacles pull his pants down, his shirt off... His belt falls to the ground with a clunk of tools and coin pouches. His light armor and trousers as well. His bare body is pulled toward the grotesque and horribly arousing body.

He passes through the dress’s jaw. The teeth, although sharp, are pointed inward. His restrained body comfortably slips right in, but could never get out. He ceases struggling, partly to avoid being hurt by the fearsome gown mouth, but also because his entire front half is pressed against the shape shifter’s gorgeous feminine body and he can think no more...

Her breasts smother him, his cock pointed to the side, pressed against her crotch, his balls bullied and teased by the tips of her tentacles... She allows his hands to cling to her muscly shoulders. He can feel the smooth skin, the hills of strong muscles...

Finally, she lets his cock slip into her vagina.

But it feels different... the inside of her vagina is... tighter. Tighter than normal... And ribbed... And her hips begin to vibrate inhumanly fast... She whispers into his ears...

Shape Shifter: Oops... I did not mention, did I? As he grew older his cock needed more... support...

The hero is not paying any attention as he is too busy screaming in ecstasy...

But she slows down before he cums...

Shape Shifter: How resilient are you, boy?

She looks down at his face half buried in her cleavage. His eyes, moist from passion, meets hers. Large, wide, and bright. He becomes lost in them.

Shape Shifter: It doesn’t matter... I’ll make you last.

She brings her prisoner up to the bedrooms.

*** *** ***

It is mostly riding. Her heavy weight atop his small human body, her form expertly molded to squeeze pleasure out of an old man... The hero’s young and perfectly virile body stood no chance.

She pries out his fetishes, his secrets, and takes advantage. Her strange, seemingly disgusting body, is a perfect match for his repressed imagination... Binding tentacles, a hungry gown, and mighty muscles... The hero is defeated against all of these.

Her vagina feels like a sex toy, designed for pleasure. But make no mistake, it is fully sensitive and she feels everything. In fact, she cums more than he does. She does not let him become too excited, letting him orgasm at the end of one hour long cycles of play.

They have sex long into the night, all the way to morning...

*** *** ***

The hero is exhausted, his eyes open with difficulty. She strokes his hair lovingly with her tentacle...

Shape Shifter: I didn’t believe there was a man in the world who would get hard for me like this... let alone one so passionate...

She chuckles.

Shape Shifter: I almost don’t want to let you leave.

She stands up. The hero watches as she retrieves the bag of money she inherited. She smiles at him.

Shape Shifter: Boy... tell the family of my lord they may have this house. I will need it no longer. I’ll be taking the money, however.

Her body begins to glow as bright as fire.

Shape Shifter: Thank you. For letting this form experience lust one last time.

There is a prolonged flash, and then it dies down. Her body is the size of a normal human now. She is silvery, with no face aside from two glowing eyes. Featureless and sexless and beautiful. Holding her pouch of in her hand she gives a curt nod and walks toward the exit.

The century changeling leaves to begin its next century.

The End

***

[This is how I picture sex with an alien would be like]

#NOT SFW #changeling #the enchantress

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years ago

Text

Standards of Performance, Chapter 12: What Happens in Alleyways

From the Beginning, Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Sorry it's a lil short, it's more of a transition chapter to actually jumping into this case and Reader's now even more confusing "relationship" with Hotch. Things get kinkier and angrier and more explicit from here, but I'll do my best to tag stuff. Thanks for your patience as always, guys, especially amidst the dumpster fire that is current events right now <3 Your reblogs and tags slay me and I love it.

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: Turns out, the world doesn't stop on its axis just because you had sex with your boss. You’re unsure whether or not that’s a good thing.

Words: 1,882

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Violence, dark themes, explicit sexual content. More specific warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You awoke to the dim light of the dawn, rain gently pattering on the windows, and the blaring sound of Hotch’s ringtone three feet from your face.

“Jesus christ, old man,” you groaned, blinking your eyes open, “turn your hearing aids up.”

Already sitting up in bed, he paused with the phone halfway to his ear.

Shit. You were being too casual - waking up in his bed, joking with him. Acting like you belonged there. You didn’t know how he felt about what happened, for all you knew he regretted every second and-

“You’re paying for that later,” he smiled before answering the call.

The playful threat filled you with relief before it made your stomach flip, and the memories of last night came flooding back. His body, his eyes, his hands all burned inside your eyelids as if you’d been staring directly at the sun. You’d never been in this situation before - waking up next to someone you’d spent the night with and desperately hoping it was the first time rather than the last. But you’d also never felt your body sing with the white-hot pleasure it did when it was touched by the seemingly unattainable man who did so last night, so. There was that.

The low rumble of his voice brought you back to the present, and you looked up at his face to find it was twisted up in concentration, resignation, and something else.

“I’ll be right down,” he said, standing up swiftly and pulling his work clothes on with practiced speed. “Don’t let anyone touch anything.”

He shoved his phone in his suit pocket and looked at you, still tangled up in his sheets.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” he said, terse. “There’s a body in the alley outside the building.”

“Outside this building?”

“Yes,” he responded, “and there’s a note.”

As he swept out the door, leaving you reeling, you realized what the other expression on his face was. Fear.

***

Hotch had gotten ready and exited the apartment before you had even processed the situation, and your mind was racing a mile a minute as you flung yourself out of bed and scrambled to get dressed. The logical assumption, of course, was that the stalker had left the body. People didn’t just end up dead in alleyways in this part of town, and certainly not in the middle of a rainstorm mere floors from where the BAU Unit Chief slept - not without a reason.

You threw on your coat and boots, forgoing contacts and makeup in favor of your glasses and a hat to cover the tangled mess last night’s tryst had made of your hair. Without even pausing to look in a mirror, you scurried down the stairwell and exited the lobby into the cold October wind.

It was easy to tell which alley the body occupied - there were an excess of thirty people milling in and out of the space to the right of the building. Crime scene investigators, policemen, and other personnel talked in hushed voices. You spotted a clearing in the sea of people and knew that’s where the victim would be, given a wide berth per Hotch’s instruction.

The team hung out at the edge of the circle watching Reid, who was kneeling in front of the body slumped against the side of the apartment building. Moving closer, you could tell he was in the middle of one of his spiels, gesturing wildly while the everyone nodded along. You joined the group that had formed around him and caught the middle of what seemed to be a hypothesis about victimology.

“ -no patterns, obviously, but if we assume similar characteristics would be present in all his victims, it’s hard to discern what statement he could be making. Positing a male in his mid-to-late twenties is statistically most likely, but stalkers of this age group also frequently have some sort of sexual motivation, and if the autopsy is consistent with what we can observe now,” he gestured to the body, “I don’t think that’s the case here.”

Throughout his speech, you’d been scrutinizing the victim - a brunette women who looked to be no older than 20, arranged in a half-sitting position against the wall behind her. There was no blood anywhere you could see, in fact, she barely looked dead at all, likely thanks to the below-freezing temperatures last night that had put a pause on the early stages of decomposition. Pinned to her shirt was a white envelope that bore an ominous message in bold, black ink:

“For my friends at the BAU.”

Not hard to guess who had killed this woman.

“Can you determine cause of death, Spence?” Prentiss asked, her arms folded.

“I’m not sure, but if I had to guess…” he used his pen to push the victim’s hair to the side, exposing a neck mottled with stark blue bruises.

“Anger, then,” you offered, speaking to the psychological drivers behind strangulation, “but I doubt we’ll find any sign of sexual assault. The unsub made it clear that his disdain is directed towards us; it’s not likely that would extend to his victim.”

The rest of the team nodded in thought, but Hotch looked at you in surprise, as if just noticing your presence. As his eyes glued on yours, his face changed, and he grabbed your arm in an unpleasantly tight grip.

“Open the note. I’ll just be a moment.”

Unaware of his boss’ sudden change in demeanor and the vice on your elbow, Morgan gloved up and reached for the envelope. Hotch, meanwhile, unceremoniously dragged you down the alleyway and around to the deserted back side of the building.

“What the hell?” you hissed, yanking your arm out of his grip.

“Did you fail to look in a mirror before you came down here?” Hotch’s narrowed stare betrayed nothing but contempt, and you scrambled to determine the implication of his question.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to take a shower before looking at the dead body? I did the best I could, it seemed urgent -”

“No,” he snapped, “I’m referring to the fact that your neck looks worse off than our victim’s does.”

You processed his words for a moment before the implication hit you.

“Are you talking about the hickies?! Christ, Hotch, I’ll get a scarf then. Just give me a second!”

“Please do. I’d like my agents to appear professional, not like they’re college kids coming off a one night stand.”

His words halted your stomp back into the building, and you turned back, furious.

“You put them there! How is this my fault?”

“I didn’t think I would have to be this explicit about the fact that I don’t want the fact that we had sex last night broadcast to everyone at the crime scene.”

You gaped at him in disbelief.

“Are you embarrassed or something? I’m sorry if you regret what happened, but you don’t need to lash out at me like this -”

“I’m not lashing out,” he interrupted, “I’m informing you of my expectations for my agents. Is there a problem?”

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to smack that perfectly raised eyebrow and controlled expression right off his face. But he was boxing you in - speaking to you as your boss and not the man you slept with last night, and as much as you hated him for it, your sense of self-preservation won out.

“There’s no problem,” you mumbled, unable to make eye contact as you slipped past him and around the building.

You made it halfway up the stairwell before the tears started flowing. Had you really thought sleeping with him was going to change something? That he was going to ask you to be his fucking girlfriend, like he wasn’t the chief of your unit and you weren’t a twenty-something intern? For all you knew, he did this all the time. His level of skill in the area certainly made it seem like he did.

That wasn’t true, though, you knew it. He may not reveal much, but you could tell it had been a fraught decision to let your relationship develop the way it had. Perhaps even a decision he regretted now - and it certainly seemed so, given his behavior.

Wiping tears on your sleeve, you fumbled with the spare key he’d given you to his apartment and walked in. You glanced in the mirror by the entrance and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. Hotch wasn’t exaggerating when he likened the marks to strangulation - indigo smudges, still peppered with the angry red of burst capillaries, circled your throat.

It was a juvenile, possessive, ridiculous display, and Hotch was absolutely right to label it unprofessional. And yet, the thought that you’d walked onto the scene bearing the marks he’d given you filled you with a thrill so intense you had to brace yourself against the entryway table and clamp your legs together.

Breathe. There’s still a fucking murder scene downstairs.

You steadied yourself and headed for your duffel bag, where you’d thankfully packed a scarf in preparation for the cold snap that was predicted to hit the state this week. Midway through unzipping your bag, though, your eyes landed on his dresser and the devil sitting on your shoulder, buzzing with a deadly combination of anger and arousal, whispered a terrible, reckless idea in your ear.

***

You practically skipped downstairs to rejoin the team, who appeared to be engaged in a lively debate about the contents of the envelope Morgan was holding. After gloving up, you reached out a hand towards him.

“Can I read it?”

He handed it over, distracted by another stream of consciousness from Reid. Hotch took note of your return and glanced in your direction before turning back to the conversation.

You pretended to read the note and waited for him to notice.

You waited all of three seconds.

He whipped his head back so comically fast you struggled to suppress a snort, and you knew exactly what he was looking at. A midnight blue cashmere scarf, nicked from his dresser and wrapped artfully around your neck to cover the bruises, just like he’d asked. The first compliment you’d ever paid him was in regards to this scarf; tentatively whispered when he’d worn it to a chilly 2 am crime scene. He’d accepted the compliment passively, but the optimistic part of you had noted that he seemed to wear it much more frequently after that.

You weren’t entirely sure what statement you were intending to make by wearing it, but his reaction told you you’d certainly succeeded at provoking something.

Morgan reached back out for the note you were still pretending to read and dropped it in an evidence bag. If he noticed Hotch steaming from the ears next to you, he didn’t say so.

“They’re ready to pack everything up and head back to the lab. Let’s meet ‘em there?”

Everyone nodded in the affirmative and headed back to the SUVs.

“You riding with me?” Morgan asked, nudging your ribs with an elbow.

“No,” Hotch answered for you, an unseen hand suddenly gripping the back of your neck. “She’s not.”

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thelordofdarkreunion · 3 years ago

Text

The Experts

The second story of this story-line. Another caveat of the request was to have the Imperials and Dr. Strange here, so here they are. I have decided to name the planet ‘Polaris C,’ so as to give it some sort of name. Enjoy Dr. Stephen Strange, Lord Inquisitor Hector Rex, and the Grey Knights meeting the Scoundrels. As usual, I own no one here except Drake.

“It is the duty of the Sorcerer Supreme to defend Earth and humanity against all magical and extra-dimensional threats.” -Dr. Stephen Strange

“I am the hammer, the right hand of the Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword!” -Motto of the Grey Knights

When Doctor Stephen Strange had received a message from Peter Quill, he had almost laughed aloud. Quill. Peter Quill, in his opinion, was not only an idiot but a slight egotist. He had almost laughed. Almost. If the message was not a missive asking for help. His help, specifically. Strange knew that if Quill, of all people, was begging for his help, then things were very serious. So with slight misgiving (he didn’t quite know what he was getting himself into), Strange’s cloak had affixed itself to his shoulders and he had opened a portal to the bizarre planet Quill described in the message.

He almost wished he didn’t come. The planet itself was filled with strange red mist from an unknown source. Not a problem, though. His magic could easily take care of that. It was the commotion. People and aliens of all sorts, from all different places, were running about up to god only knew what. A huge, bipedal metal robot (at least he thought it was a robot) trudged around, seemingly scanning a collection of long abandoned black buildings in the distance. Soldiers of various sorts, all dressed differently, many of species he did not recognize, ran around doing things he couldn’t even guess at.

To his left, greatcoat swirling ominously in the mist, lenses of his mask blending in with the background, was Peter Quill. As soon as Quill saw the sorcerer, he ran up to him, almost hugging him before Strange stopped him.

“Oh thank god you’re here!” almost shouted Quill. “I don’t know what the hell’s happening and neither do we and neither to the GA and Cooper is trying to scan the structures to see what’s happening and he’s the only one who’s actually helping and Cain called the Imperial Inquisition who are arguing with the aliens and this reminds me way too much of when my father possessed me so can you help?” Strange’s mouth worked spasmodically for a moment at Quill’s rant. Quill almost hugged him and was now begging for his help. This was a serious situation, then. Strange held up his gloved hands.

“Calm. Down.” Quill took a few deep breaths.

“Okay. Okay. I’m calm.”

“Good. Now, take me to them,” commanded Strange. Quill gave a nod and beckoned Strange forward. The swirling mist parted to reveal a series of tents, the sort that he recognized from disasters he’d seen on the news. Cold and clinical. They ducked underneath a flap and passed swiftly through an airlock before getting into the main area of the largest tent. It was much bigger than Strange thought it would be. Various humans, all wearing whatever armor they had on at the time of the event, lay on cots lining the walls. All of them were out cold.

It was not the people on the cots, though, that caught Strange’s attention. An imposing blond haired woman stood in the middle of it, bickering with two aliens: a small, bug-like creature and an eight foot tall, four armed, blue carapaced alien. The woman wore a tight black bodysuit, and was currently glaring daggers at the black, bug-like alien. The four armed one stood behind the bug, both pairs of arms crossed in a gesture that was remarkably human.

“You can’t tell us what to do!” shouted the shorter insectoid. “We rule this galaxy, and we will do this our way.” The blond haired woman sneered at the two aliens.

“Chairwoman.” The word was imbued with so much venom that it made Strange look up sharply from where he was studying one of the unconscious forms. “You have no idea what any of this does, not to mention that-” She was cut off by the beeping of her comms device. She held a finger to her ear, and paused to listen to what was being said on the other side. “Understood,” she replied. She turned back to the chairwoman. “Well then. Do it your way. Xenos no longer has authority here. Take up the matter with Malleus.” She spun on her heel and strode out of the tent. On her way out, she almost slammed into a brown haired man wearing high boots and a leather jacket. He sharply avoided her, then gave her a glare as she walked out. Following him was an utterly massive individual in heavy green armor. Super soldier, though Strange. He’d bet his life on it.

“Well, looks like that’s all done now,” said the newcomer. He walked over to Strange and held out his hand. “Han Solo. You must be the expert that Quill called in.”

“Indeed I am,” replied Strange, still puzzled of what precisely was transpiring here.

“Master Chief John-117,” replied the green armored man with about as much emotion as a bag of rocks.

“Good to know we have a true expert on hand,” said the strange, bug-like alien as she walked over. “Hopefully you will be more agreeable. I am the Chairwoman of the Galactic Assembly,” she announced.

“Doctor Stephen Strange,” replied Strange politely. “And I am here to help.” The large, blue carpaced alien introduced herself as Sunny, chief weapons officer of the Omen. With introductions out of the way, Strange approached the cots of the unconscious humans. “Now, what precisely happened here?” he asked.

“We were inside one of the larger buildings in the middle of the abandoned city over there,” said Sunny, pointing to a direction outside the tent. “We went through it… seemed like some sort of weird laboratory. There was some sort of main central room. The room had blast doors; big ones to keep something out. They were open though. There was some sort of glowing white orb on a central pedestal. When Wilson, one of the scientists,” she pointed out Wilson, lying unconscious on another cot, “Touched it, it emitted a blast of white energy. It knocked out all of the humans. No aliens were harmed, and, oddly, the humans from one particular galaxy were not affected. They all seem to have some sort of glowing white light around their eye areas, and Adam muttered ‘Deus’ under his breath while still unconscious.” Strange didn’t know who Adam was, but this sounded… serious. And weird. Weirdly serious? No. Perhaps seriously weird? Stop getting off track, Stephen.

“Okay. It is good you called me,” said Strange. He paused for a moment, considering what he should do next. “Can you take me to the orb?” he asked. The chairwoman opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by the tramping of boot soles on the tent’s artificial ground. A double file of soldiers came into the tent, along with three hooded, red robed individuals.

“Scions,” hissed Sunny. The soldiers all wore heavy black armor, and carried blocky rifles, at the moment pointed downward, but ready to fire. The red robed individuals hugged the shadows, their cowls concealing their faces. All of the newcomers had the same symbol emblazoned on their clothing: a stylized “I” with a human skull in the center. Sigil of the Imperial Inquisition.

“What is the meaning of this?” roared the chairwoman. For a bug, she had a pretty impressive voice.

“This planet is now interdicted,” replied one of the Scions. Strange glowered at him. If looks could kill, the chairwoman’s would have reduced the man to cinders at this point.

“Under whose authority?” she snapped. The arguing figures all turned around as massive footsteps sounded behind them.

“Mine.” A huge man tore his way through the airlock of the tent. Long grey hair was thrown uncaringly across his head, and a red cloak across his shoulders. Ornate power armor, fitted to his large frame, glowed a dull silver in the weak light. He was utterly massive, coming to reach the height of the Master Chief. A beautifully crafted sword rested on his hip, and a bronze breathing mask covered his lower face. However, it was not at this man that Strange’s eyes turned to. It was the group of individuals that followed him. If the man in front was a giant among men, the coterie that followed him were gods among giants. They stood eye to eye with Sunny, towing a full foot above the Chief and grey haired man. Each of the five wore silvery grey power armor, covered with strange runes, inscriptions, and seals. Huge, twin barreled cannons were attached to their left arms, and in their right they all held halberds, suitably sized for their massive frames. They stared at Strange and the group clustered around him from behind silver helmets. Vision slits, glowing white-blue, seemed to peer into their very souls.

With a start and a huge sense of foreboding, Strange realized what they were. The size of genetically engineered soldiers, the strange runes and seals on their armor, the magic resonance of the ammunition in their guns and the power whispering through their halberds, all augmented by the fact that each of the silver warriors was a sorcerer of fearsome potency spoke of one thing. These individuals were created and trained for one purpose, and one purpose only: slaying demons.

If Strange could take a human being and make them into a weapon perfect for destroying the extra-dimensional beings that some called demons, he would have a result very similar to these silent, silver soldiers. He could already feel the icy trickle of sweat as it made his way down his back. This was not good. Things had gotten a lot more serious.

“Who are you?” half-whispered the GA chairwoman. The sheer presence these newcomers had put Strange and everyone else in the room on edge.

“I am Lord Inquisitor Hector Rex of the Ordo Malleus of the Holy Ordos of His Divine Majesty’s Most Holy Inquisition,” replied the grey haired man. Well, this guy’s very dramatic and, apparently, very holy, was Strange’s first thought. “We are here to investigate the possession of these individuals,” went on Rex.

“As am I,” cut in Strange. He was the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth, dammit, and he would not be intimidated by the likes of these men. He could sense the Inquisitor, too, was a sorcerer, and a damn good one at that. “Doctor Stephen Strange.” Being polite couldn’t hurt, could it? The Inquisitor gave no response as the lead silver giant stepped forward. Strange and the various aliens winced as the temperature in the room dropped noticeably. The giant warrior held out a hand and touched Strange’s forehead with his fingers; not too gentle, not too rough, it simply just was. Strage felt the man peering into his very soul, but remained silent and still. He had a feeling the giants would respect that more than any protests he could muster.

“This one is pure of soul and strong of mind,” announced the warrior. His deep bass voice rumbled and reverberated through the tent. Strange found it disquieting. The man introduced as John-117 had a flat, but normal human voice. All the super soldiers he’d met in his home galaxy all had relatively normal voices. It appeared that this one was so heavily augmented his voice was stronger and went much deeper than a usual human. How intriguing.

“Very well, then,” replied Rex. “You.” He pointed at Strange. “Come with us. Everyone else, stay here. No one leaves.” On that ominous note, Rex spun, and with a swirl of his cloak, walked out the door, followed by the giant warriors and Strange.

Elsewhere

“Ah, shit,” swore Thomas Drake. He looked around him. Groups of his armsmen, GA marines, and redshirts stood up, confused. Shepard, Kirk, and Vir brushed themselves off and stared.

“Where the hell are we?” asked Shepard. “And where the hell is everyone else?” They stood in an open, endless expanse of white. The ground was pure white, the sky… or whatever was located above them pure white. It was like being inside a sterile room. Or an insane asylum.

“Don’t know,” replied Vir. “Wilson touched that orb-thingy and now here we are.”

“Where is here, exactly?” asked Kirk.

“An excellent question,” replied another voice. The Scoundrels whirled around to face a man, ethereally floating in the non-existent air. The figure was a human man, obviously so. However, something seemed… off about him. There was, of course, the fact that he was in this strange realm, and that he was floating several feet off the ground. His face… Well, his face was the strangest part. It looked a perfect blend between every human variation: the eyes, the coloring, the hair, all of it. A perfect blend of every human to ever exist. How is that possible…?

“What are you?” asked Drake. His hand went for his sidearm, only to find it wasn’t there. The ethereal being chuckled.

“I’m known by a lot of names. You can call me Adam… Adham, and variation of the name, really. You can call me the First, or you can call me Deus. Your choice, really.”

“Deus…” muttered Vir.

“Great. Why are we here?” asked Shepard, cutting straight to the point.

“Quite simple. You are now imbued with my power. The power of what you may call a god. There are things out there that would see you corrupted, and we can’t let that happen.”

“Good luck trying to corrupt us,” said Shepard. The being frowned.

“Many more powerful than you have been. Many. It is simply a failsafe. Through this, you gain a portion of the power of the combined gods of humanity throughout our realms. While you can’t do any sort of god-like things; you’ll be the same as before except in one regard. You are all now utterly immune to any sort of corrupting influences. No one can hijack your brains.”

“Great,” said Vir bluntly. “Now what?” Deus smiled.

“Well, unfortunately, you can’t remember this conversation.”

“Why not?” snapped an indignant Drake.

“Two reasons: it’s best if you don’t, and there is a small chance that if these memories remain, you might go slightly insane. Slightly. Still don’t want to risk it. However, there is one other thing that I can do safely. I have a favor to ask you. There are artifacts hidden in several locations around my galaxy. They carry a taint. There is one on each of the places that this planet reaches out to. You can figure it out from there. I want those artifacts destroyed.”

“Okay. Can you send us back to... wherever we are supposed to be?” asked Kirk.

“Yes,” nodded Deus. He snapped his fingers.

On Polaris C

“This is the chamber,” came the reverberating voice of one of the massive, silver armored warriors. Strange had learned they were called the Grey Knights. They didn’t tell him anything else. Lord Hector strode forward to the white orb on the central pedestal.

“It doesn’t look like any… Chaotic artifact,” he murmured. “Hmmm.” At that moment, the orb, which had been glowing brightly, suddenly went dark.

“What was that?’ asked Strange.

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

Drake’s head shot up so quickly it smashed into a medical orderly who had been tending to him. With a cry of pain, he went back down into the cot, only to miss with one hand, lose his balance, and fall on the floor. Over his muttered curses and the orderly’s apologies, the rest of the unconscious humans woke. Sunny rushed over to Vir’s side.

“Adam! What happened?” she asked. Vir rubbed his head.

“Don’t know,” he said. “There was the orb, then Wilson touched it, then we got knocked out.” He looked up, seeing the Scions guarding them in a strange tent. “What the hell happened?” he asked, slightly miffed. At that moment, the flap leading to the airlock parted, revealing Dr. Strange, Lord Rex, and the Grey Knights.

“That is precisely what I am wondering, Admiral,” said Rex. He came forward, and held out a hand, touching Vir’s forehead. The temperature of the room dropped, and Vir felt the uncomfortable sensation of the grey haired man staring into his soul. Rex dropped his hand and turned to the Grey Knights. The temperature returned to normal. “He appears… untainted. Normal.” A pair of inky brown eyes stared down at the waking humans. “However, we must be sure. Our testing shall be… rigorous.”

There we have it. Now, unfortunately, you ought to know that the Grey Knights have a scorched earth policy. They fight daemons, and daemons corrupt. Therefore, anyone who is near them is at risk. Also, they are a secret organization, and if anyone is left alive to know about them, Chaos could use it against them. They have been ordered to not harm the Scoundrels themselves, as they believe they are vital to some future events. They won’t harm Strange, as they see him as a protector of his realm, much like them. The GA people though... Tell me what you think should happen, and if you like this story line. If you have any comments, questions, requests, criticisms, or concerns, tell me!

#magnificent scoundrels #story #writing #my writing #crossover #warhammer 40k #empyrean iris #dr strange #humans are space orcs

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fangirl-inthe-us · 5 years ago

Text

His Person

Summary: A fogginess overcomes Geralt and all he can focus on him finding one person.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Author’s Note: AHHHHHHH!!!!!! I have been working on this thing for WEEKS!!!! I have been wanting to join the Witcher writing group for months but I never could come up with a tangible plot. Now I have and I hope it isn’t too terrible for all y’all. Also, I imagined Henry’s Geralt as I wrote this. Though, the more I read it the more Geralt’s personality is like Withcer 3′s Geralt. 😅 I would like to thank @seb-owns-these-tatas for encouraging me through the entire writing process. She is the light in my writing darkness! Love you babe! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Okay, I’m going to stop talking so you can go read. Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing (I actually don’t know if there is any), violence, my grammar.

Word Count: 2.9k

Masterlist

He couldn’t think straight. There was a fogginess that plagued his mind. his thoughts were consumed with one thing. He needed to find someone. Only, Geralt had no Idea who. The only thing that came to mind was that this person would be back at his camp.

Struggling to maneuver around the forest, Geralt stumbled through the leafy green foliage. His eyes were wide which hurriedly assessed his surroundings. With his clouded mind, Geralt couldn’t remember where he was or how he had gotten there. He would have to rely on his witcher senses to get him where he needed to be.

Geralt’s first instinct was to use his heightened hearing. Using as much focus as he possibly could, he intently listened. A few moments passed. All that Geralt could hear was the sounds of rustling trees, the chattering of squirrels, and the buzzing of bees. Until he heard it. There, ever so faintly, Geralt could hear roach’s neighing.

With that one sound, Geralt found his way back to camp quickly. Upon reaching the camp, he was met with nothing but disappointment. There, indeed was a person. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the person Geralt was looking for.

The other person was male. His brown hair was ruffled and he wore an intricate doublet. He looked familiar to Geralt. Yet the fogginess of his brain prevented him from recognizing the man. Trying to fight the fogginess, Geralt could remember that the man was a bard of some sort.

“Geralt? Are you alright? Did you kill the beast?” The bard walked towards him. Geralt could see that his brows were drawn together and there was caution in his step. He must look like a wild beast.

“Hmmm.” Without thinking, Geralt walked passed the Bard.

Geralt surveyed the area. He couldn’t see who he was looking for. This caused the witcher to use his enhanced senses again. taking a deep breath, Geralt could smell something sweet. It was her and She was close. Following the scent, Geralt took off. The man from before was angrily mumbling to himself but stopped once he noticed that Geralt was marching away.

“Geralt, where are you going?” Falling in step with the witcher, the bard trampled over the vegetation under his feet.

“Leave, bard.”

“Wh-Geralt! What is the meaning of this? Where are you going?” The bard was flailing his arms as he spoke.

Geralt let out a growl in warning. The bard was preventing him from finding his missing person. And once he did find his person, Geralt realized that the bard would only interrupt them. He didn’t want that.

Stopping midstep, he turned and looked directly at the bard.“Go back to the camp. This does not concern you.” The look Geralt had given the smaller man must have sent the right message.

The bard slowly stepped away. “Alright, but if you don’t come back, Y/N and I will go out looking for you.” Finished with his outburst, the bard made his way back to camp.

At the mention of her name, Geralt froze. Yes, that was who he was looking for. Why? He still couldn’t tell. All he knew was that it was impertinent that he found her.

A couple of minutes later, Geralt came upon a river. The scent he was following had gotten stronger. he pressed on. The closer he got the better he could hear. There was a faint sound of small splashes and a humming.

Upon reaching the riverbank, Geralt found a pile of clothes that practically emitted the scent. That is when Geralt’s attention was pulled away. The splashing sounds were practically right next to him. With this knowledge, he was yet again following his senses. Not even five steps in, Geralt could see Y/N. Geralt held his breath at the sight of her. She was gorgeous. Her naked form was mostly concealed by the water but it left little to the imagination.

Taking one step forward, Geralt accidentally snapped a twig. The sound made the woman whip her head back to look at him.

“gods, Geralt! You terrified me!” Y/N shrieked.

At the thought of scaring her, Geralt growled. He didn’t want his presence to frighten her. Suddenly, Geralt had the need to be beside her. Without a care in the world, he was walking into the river towards the woman.

“What are you doing? Geralt? You’re scaring me.” Y/N had now moved her arms to cover herself protectively.

“Don’t be.” Geralt grunted. He was now right in front of her. A breath away.

Y/N’s eyes were opened wide. She looked at Geralt cautiously. “What?” She questioned.

“Don’t be scared.”

“Okay? Just explain what’s going on?”

“I need-I need you. I need to be beside you.” Geralt’s voice was dripping with desperation.

“Oh, okay. Um-” Before she could utter another word, Geralt was dragging her body toward his.

Now that Y/N was in his arms, Geralt buried his face into her hair. He took a deep breath. Her hair was wet from the river but it still smelt of her. He didn’t care that his clothes were getting wet. All he wanted was to be close to Y/N. Whatever had gotten to him had really spooked him. the fogginess didn’t help.

“Um, hey, Geralt?” Geralt moved back but didn’t let her go. Y/N peered up at the witcher, “Can I get dressed? as much as I love your embrace, I am starting to get cold.” He must’ve made a face because she was then saying, “can we at least get out of the river?” Without a word, Geralt grasped Y/N’s hand and led her out of the water.

Once out, Y/N was about to grab her clothes when Geralt beat her to it. He helped Y/N into her underwear. He then motioned for her to raise her arms. Doing as he wished, Y/N lifted her arms. Geralt pulled the dress over her head with ease.

“So, do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Y/N voiced after a while.

“hmmm.” Geralt wordlessly moved to embrace her again. He pulled the two of them to sit down. The two stayed that way for a few minutes.

“I-I don’t know what’s going on.” Geralt finally said. “It’s all foggy. I was fighting the beast and-and I can’t remember much else. My head couldn’t focus on anything else other than finding you. Though, at the time, I didn’t know that it was you. I just knew there was someone I needed to have close.”

“Oh, Geralt. I’m here,” Y/n ran her hands through Geralt’s hair, “I’ve got you. It’s okay now.”

“I don’t know if it is though. I can’t remember slaying the beast. It could still be out there.”

“Why don’t we go back to camp and we can figure things out? Does that sound okay?” Y/N looked directly into his eyes.

A deep grunt was the only reply Y/N got as an answer. Soon after, Geralt was standing with Y/N still in his arms. he adjusted her. She now had her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs wrapped around his hips. This position allowed Geralt to be the closest to her as he could be.

Reaching the camp, Geralt let Y/N down. He didn’t let her go completely though. He wasn’t ready to leave her quite yet. He knew he should go looking for the creature but there was something holding him back.

“Ah, I see you found her.” The bard stopped in front of the two with his hands placed on his hips. Geralt eyed the man. A name popped out at him, Jaskier. The bard’s name was Jaskier.

Looking between the two men, Y/n questioned, “What’s with you two?”

“Oh, nothing. Except for the fact that he practically shoved me out of the way in his rampage to get to you! He then proceeded to tell me to fuck off.”

“Geralt!” Y/N slapped Geralt’s bicep.

“It’s not my fault. I couldn’t recognize him. The haze made it impossible.” Shrugging, Geralt eyed the bard, “I’m sorry, Jaskier.” He finally huffed out.

“I forgive you.” Jaskier paused, “But you get to do the washing later.” With that, the bard walked off.

“That… was weird.” Y/N flashed Geralt a puzzled look.

“This whole situation is weird.” Letting out a sigh, Geralt let go of Y/N’s hand and reached for his silver sword. “It’s about time I find the beast and kill it. For good this time.”

With one last look at Y/N, Geralt was dragging himself back into the woods. He had a newfound determination. All he wanted was to have Y/N back in his Arms.

Geralt brainstormed ideas on what the beast could have been. In all honesty, Geralt thought a witch could have been the culprit. The more he thought about it the less possible it could have been. Geralt could specifically remember images of Bug-like creatures.

Approaching the place he was before the haze hit, Geralt tuned into his senses. His hearing picked up rustling from the tall grass, A few birds chirping in the distance, and the burble of a nearby pond. with no distinct sounds, Geralt focused on what he could see.

His eyes found several tracks. One pair belonged to him while The other tracks looked like they were leading towards the pond. This meant that there was more than one creature.

Deciding the tracks were the best lead that he had, Geralt crept beside them. He didn’t know if the creatures were close enough to sense him. This made Geralt make sure that he had easy access to his sword and bombs. If only he knew what the creature was; He could simply add the respective oil to his sword and be done with the job.

Suddenly, there was a high pitched growl to the far right. Geralt had graciously maneuvered into a crouch. The creatures were close. He would like to do this quietly. There is less of a mess that way.

He had reached the end of the tall grass. Looking through the grass, Geralt could see the clearing. A pond was smack dab in the middle of it and a little to the right of the pond were tiny figures.

They couldn’t be much bigger than a baby. Their tiny bodies were oddly shaped as they had two legs and four arms. Their backs were covered in what looked like black wiry hair. What was truly freakish about these creatures was that They had no necks. their heads practically molded into their torsos. Geralt was repulsed.

It hit him after a moment. He could remember back to Vesimir’s Teachings back at Kaer Morhen. Vesimir revealed an old bestiary to his teenage self. It was bursting with creature information. The beast in from of him now was a beast he and Vesimir went over before.

This monstrosity was a Bełt. It wasn’t a common beast. Over the years, these beasts have been killed off. almost to the point of extinction. Geralt was surprised to be seeing now.

Thinking back, Geralt realized what the fogginess was. Bełts were known for their speed but also for their mind control magic. Geralt concluded that they were too quick for him and one of them messed with his mind.

It made even more sense why he needed to get to Y/N. She was the last thing on his mind before he went hunting for the beast.

Geralt smirked. He knew exactly what to do to kill the nasty buggers. Pulling out his enhanced relict oil, Geralt added a few drops to his silver sword. With care, he then rubbed the oil over the sword. He made sure that it coated the blade completely. Next, Geralt was moving closer to the Bełts. He made sure to stay hidden in the tall grass.

Once he was in a good position, Geralt readied himself. He was then rushing out of the grass and descending his blade on the unsuspecting creatures. With a few doges and several hard swings of his sword, the Bełts were dead. Looting what he could, Geralt was making his way back to camp.

It was dark by the time Geralt made it to his humble campsite. Y/N and Jaskier had started a fire which glowed in the darkened forest. It gave Geralt a promise of food and warmth. When he did stumble out of the trees, He was greeted with the small chatter of his companions.

“Okay, then you place the card in its corresponding place,” Jaskier informed Y/N. Geralt could tell they were up to no good.

If he was hearing alright, which he was, Jaskier was teaching Y/N how to play Gwent. Anything that involved Gwent and Jaskier was sure to make trouble. Geralt figured he should break up whatever Jaksier was planning on doing before anything happened.

The two were so engrossed in their game they didn’t even notice that the witcher was approaching them. This made for the perfect opportunity to spook them. Geralt was aiming to spook Jaskier more than Y/N. But some things you just have to do for the greater good. The spook would at least put an end to Jaskier’s mischief.

Letting out a loud grunt. The two paused immediately. Jaskier jumped up and let out a little squawk. The sight was quite humorous to the witcher.

“Geralt?!?!” Jaskier now held a hand to his chest, “You gave me a heart attack!”

Jaskier’s hollering had Y/N laughing so hard that she fell over on the ground. Geralt, after a few minutes, followed Y/N in her laughter. The two were now cackling at Jaskier’s expense.

A little offended, Jaskier just stood there with his hands on his hips and his lips pressed tightly together. This didn’t last though. Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh at the other two’s reactions. Geralt was pretty sure that someone could hear their laughter from a mile away.

The three laughed for a handful of minutes. Slowly, the laughter died down. Y/N and Jaskier were gasping for air while Geralt wiped away a few traitorous tears. These were rare moments for the witcher but they were very welcomed moments.

“So, I’m assuming you killed the beast.” Y/N looked expectantly at Geralt. The only answer she got from him was a grunt and a head nod.

“Oh, look at that! You got a head nod! The laughter must have buttered him up!” Jaskier’s face was morphed into faux surprise. This earned Jaskier a glare from the witcher.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the two men before speaking up. “Well, what was it? You can’t just make a big scene and not tell us what caused the whole ordeal.”

With a huff, Geralt was sitting down where Jaskier had previously sat. He then started explaining the whole situation. By the time that he was finished explaining, Jaskier was about to go into another round of laughter while Y/N was a little puzzled.

“How do you think they got there? Can you remember where the creatures are indigenous to?”

“No, I can barely remember things from back then. It was so early in my training. I know this is hard to believe but back then, I was like any other boy. I hated my lessons. I just wanted to get my work done so I could have my free time. Even if the free time I did get didn’t last long.” Geralt heard a snort from Jaskier.

A moment of silence passed. Jaskier let out a sigh. He was stoking the fire with a long stick. “Well, the job is done. Tomorrow we can collect the coin and move on.” Jaskier’s expression lit up at the thought of coin.

“I think it’s strange how none of the locals felt it important to inform Geralt that the creatures could control minds. That is a Crucial chunk of information that He could have used.” Y/N was glaring at the ground. Her eyebrows were pulled together which paired with her frown.

“I don’t think any of them really knew what was going on. I’m willing to bet that they altogether forgot the encounter. Being a witcher, my mutations could have weakened The creature’s magic.”

Looking up at Geralt, Y/N flashed him a smile. “I guess. I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

Geralt was then eyeing Y/N. He was trying to convey that he would like her to be next to him. He wouldn’t admit it but he was still a little shaken up. Her just being near him would help quell the anxiety still buzzing in his head.

It was instinctual. One moment she was looking him in the eyes and the next she was getting up and sitting right in his lap. Geralt, of course, had no problem with it. The only person who minded was the Bard.

A whine came out of the Bard as he saw what Y/N had done. “Don’t you two start anything. I don’t want to be traumatized because I witnessed you two getting It on.” As if he was imagining it, Jaskier cringed into himself.

“Calm, bard. I wouldn’t want you witnessing anything of the sort. That is only for me to see.” With that comment, Geralt felt Y/N slap him.

Looking down at her, he could see the displeased expression plastered all over her face. A smirk found its way to his lips as he lowered his head. The gentlest of kisses were placed to Y/N’s lips. She let out a small gasp while Jaskier groaned in disgust. At Jaskier’s reaction, both Geralt and Y/N chuckled.

all Geralt wanted was to stay like this forever. He had his love, his best friend, and the pleasant warm feeling in his chest. Geralt was happy truly happy.

Tags (Message me if or add yourself!):

@seb-owns-these-tatas, @dreaming-about-starfleet (I hope you don’t mind that I tagged you 😅), @scarlettwitcher

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shuuen-no-cimory · 4 years ago

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Disgusting Gratitude (An FGO Ashiya Douman fanfic)

This was a fanfic I wrote after lurking on twitter for so long just to find threads about Douman (the historical person). And yeah, find a real nice stuff on an account specifically created to post the stuff (real kudos for DOUMANFAN_ on twitter. Using machine translate is hard but I’m glad I can find stories of him). This is a what-if story if Alter Ego was summoned on Chaldea but instead by already experienced Ritsuka, it was Ritsuka when she was about to start her Grand Order. There might be some OOC but I hope it wasn’t too much ;w;

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Chaldea's ever white walls stand tall and firm as far as he can see. It's rather empty, only the tapping sound of his boots bounces around as he swiftly walk. As storm raging madly behind the closed-off glass, the Onmyoji eyeing the unending hallway as he make his way to his Master's room. His Master,

Fujimaru Ritsuka, the supposedly last master of Chaldea at the time. The 'savior' who saved the world from Goetia's annihilation of humanity. The one who went through four Remnants and slayed him on Shimousa. The one who later, ironically enough, turn into the exterminator of Lostbelts, all for the sake of Pan-human history. The one who tore down his Mandala Hell Tree. Such titles his Master has,

Or that's what his Master supposed to be.

Right now Ritsuka is just a child who just experienced her first Singularity, whose fire on her eyes still burning with hope and passion. So green, so naive, that's the Master that command him right now. He's already ready to serve under her the time he was registered into Throne of Heroes, yet he never prepared to meet her in such state of her life.

If there's something more laughable than his repetitive defeats, then it is the fact that he was summoned by Master of Chaldea who was yet tainted by the harsh future.

Of course his appearance was making some curious uproar. An Alter Ego? Ashiya Douman? Even the Director can't believe it at first and had to rechecked multiple times to make sure the system didn't make any mistake. His tiny Master was even more curious than anyone else, for she was never heard of a servant with an Alter Ego class. He can remember how she tilted her head in confusion, "Huh... Alter Ego? Not a Caster?" My condolence to her, what a woe she has to face in the distant future once he understand why such form of him ever exist.

Nonetheless, this is a great opportunity indeed. With no one ever experience, so much to remember what he yet to do in the future, he can deceive them perfectly. By presenting himself as the mere Ashiya Douman, one of the renowned Onmyoji, the rival of Abe no Seimei, yes, his disguise is perfect.

But really, dealing with such a green Master was such a hassle. According to her, it was the director's advice for her to get to know her servants for a better teamwork on future mission. Since then, she'd come to Douman and talk about various thing with him. Sometimes she'd just ask him about the mission they had done, sometimes it is just some idle chats about what he likes, how he felt about being in Chaldea, what does he thinks about the other servants. Among those talk, he can remember one that quite piqued his interest.

"Douman-sensei," she called his name as he poured tea to her glass. He replied with an everchanging smile, "What can I help my Master with today?" As she thanked him after receiving her glass, she calmly spoke, "When I was small, my granpa used to tell me stories about you and the Onmyojis a lot," her eyes filled with tender reminiscence, "He would tell stories about you quite often too, but how was the life of Onmyoji like?"

Douman who was about to sip his tea stopped for a moment, "Nnnn, you sure a curious one, aren't you, Master?" he was silent as he sips the tea calmly, "But are you sure you want to hear the story of this humble servant of yours?"

"Of course!" she excitedly bounce on her seat, but quickly she cleared her throat and bring her calm demeanor which fits the tea drinking atmosphere back. "I-I mean, sure, Douman-sensei. It will be a p-pleasure to hear it from you," trying her best to suppress her excitement, Ritsuka was turned groggy instead. How cute, he said in silence. That afternoon, he attend his Master much like a teacher to their pupil. Stories from a distant past, as he recalled story after story, he saw her face filled with so much expressions. Sometimes she'd shine with awe, sometimes she'd knit her eyebrows in sympathy, sometimes she'd laugh heartfully. That afternoon was exhausting indeed, but it was quite a remarkable memory for him.

As he finished reminiscing his time on Chaldea, his feet stopped in front of his Master's room. He was asked by a Vinci to checked on her, although the light-haired director seemed to despise the idea at first. Of course, Douman is well aware thar Romani Archaman must've been wary of him, an extremely strange servant summoned by Chaldea system. Even so, Da vinci still let him carry the request on and thus, here he is.

Gently, he knocked the door, "Master," he called her, "May I come in?"

Just as he knock it, the door opened by itself. A vulnerably clumsy Master she is, letting her room unlocked like this.

When he enter the room, she was on her work desk, head buried by various books and notes. Her back raise and drop in a steady rhythm as she breathe calmly. The monitor of her computer lit up her unmoving figure. She's asleep in her table just like that in her shirt and short pants. Truly, truly vulnerable... A tiny flicker ignite inside him, flame that asked for her destruction in such state. But of course he had to control himself, it is not the time yet. A reward for fortitude will be fruitful in the end, thus he needs to wait.

To suppress the raging feelings, he walk toward with the only wish to wake her up. His hand reached out to her, but then his eyes trails off from her. Without shrinking his hand away, he blinks silently at the heaps of books, specifically the words that written on top of it. Words that re just.... extremely familiar to him. His sharp nails trailed from one book to another. "The Guide of Harima Kuni", "The story of Abe-no-Seimei", "The Record of Heian Era", and to his surprise, "Ashiya Douman: the Story of Renowned Onmyoji." Of course he can recall them, of course. It was all the books that talks about him and his stories, his past. At the opened books, he can see some scribbles and tapped notes all over. He picked one and inspect it. The notes were mostly filled with questions and reviews. There, he can read something like 'Is he really like that?', or 'So this is what happen!' written with some emojis and doodles. The scribbles on the other hand were meant to highlight some points of the books that seemed to interest her. Moving his eyes from her table, he saw her monitor shows a map that was marked in various places. There he read on top of it was the name 'Kishi, Nishikanki-Cho'. Accompanied the map was some websites that was filled with stories and talks about his hometown, specifically about the history of Onmyoji. He can't help but smile, a genuine smile that he wasn't so acquainted with. 'This Master truly was not joking when she said she wanted to know more about this Douman,' he thoughts as the fire of hatred that reside in him for the moment has gone. In a spur of moment, he felt a little pity for her who had to work hard just to know more about him. The least he can do for her was to spare her some proper sleep by lay the girl on her bed. Gently while making sure she won't woken up, he picked her off her seat. The tiny body on his arm felt way different than the person he saw back in Heian-kyo Lostbelt. The girl that stopped him back then was way sterner and rougher, here the lady on his arm is amicably powerless like a sitting duck.

As he laid her down, she suddenly grabbed her clothes. Douman was about to jump until he hears her slow breathe was still the same as before. Ah, sure, she's probably did it unconsciously. Slowly, he hold the hand that clutched onto him and release it. The owner in question meekly murmur in her sleep when she's completely laid down on her bed, "Granpa... Can you... Tell me Douman-sensei... story again..." she said. He can't help but laughed a bit at how childlike his Master act right now. Tucked her comfortably, he left her to clean up her table. That's when he found something,

Seems like the book was covered by her face when she asleep then, but there was written in a side of her notebook, a tiny note. Douman picks her book and slowly read it. It was unmistakably her handwriting, complete with her little doodles.

"Granpa, I found Douman-sensei! He's so cool just like you told me. I will work hard too so I can be as awesome like him. I promise you!"

There was a little drop of water on the notes, but it didn't bother him much. It was... what a disgusting note it is.

Wanted to be like him? Why? To be like a complete failure of an Onmyoji like him... That is truly a laughable notion. How pitiful for someone ever wanted to be an underdog like him. Someone, who is renown for his villainy over his rival that he was never able to usurp... He reads more notes and books that lays on her table as he clean it up. All those books... Some of them said of how he was a beloved for his own people, some said how he was a pride for his hometown, some said how they are grateful for his achievement.

His heart swells, he turned off the light on his master room. His heart swells. He stroked Ritsuka's fair hair as he made his way out of the room. His heart swells. He closed the door and make sure it was secured.

His heart swells, for all those emotion he feels gobbled him up.

Is all alien to him. All that gratefulness are nothing he ever heard.

It was disgusting,

Disgusting,

But he is unmistakably feels warm.

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End note: Ngl I feel like Grand Order Guda calling Douman as Douman-sensei sounds awesome and fits nicely. She was pretty new to this stuff so she might be still rather meek with her servants. And then, Douman himself was still a pretty renowned Onmyoji thus giving him some respect sounds just right

#FGO #Fate/Grad Order #FGO Fanfic #Ashiya Douman #Ashiya Douman (FGO)#Ashiya Douman (Alter Ego)#Caster of Limbo #Ritsuka Fujimaru #Gudako #Douman/Guda #Douman x Gudako #TYPE-MOON

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hanyohime · 4 years ago

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A Broken blade 🗡️ , Rainbow Children 🌈 🦋 and the Root of all Evil🌳

Yashahime Ep. 2 and Ep. 3 (preview) observations and altering theories:

So some of my previous theories were a bit off, like Towa’s sword being found because of some reaction to Setsuna’s Eye/Golden Pearl. However, it is still unclear if the sword itself has some special ability or if Towas Silver Pearl is projecting energy into it. We saw how in Ep. 2 her sword breaks on the Three Eyed Mistress, but in the Ep. 3 preview you can see her with the blue blade of light that was advertised in the promo posters. I do not think that this light is coming form the power of the pearl per se, as the glow from her eye is White/Silver but the energy emitting from the broken blade is Blue. I believe this light/energy is coming from Towa herself, from an unrealized power.

I have a theory that sword in its broken state is how she will rid or help individuals possessed by the demonic roots. Perhaps she will even be cable to do this without having to kill the host directly, much like the Tensseiga and the demons of the underworld. I also have this idea that her sword will be able to cast things into the rainbow corridor because they have to get rid of the Three Eyed Mistress somehow in the next episode, but I don’t have much to go on that yet... I think the sword will eventually be repaired, I believe Moroha will direct Towa to someone in the past to repair the blade. It will most likley be the mystery character who is yet to have a name, as they are seen in the promo poster with a similarly wrapped weapon, just like Towas sword. I think it would be pretty cool if it remained broken and the blade is just this mysterious blue energy that projects out from the hilt.

Side note: Despite my initial theory being wrong, Towa does find the sword in modern times but it seems to be some sort of relic, perhaps from the Higurashi shrine? She says it belonged to Ashikaga Yoshiteru which, according to some google sleuthing, is one of the most prominent Shogun of the Muromachi period of Japan. In Ep. 1, we were introduced to the Deputy Shogun, Ogigayatsu Hiiraga Danjo. How I interpreted this information is that the Ogigayatsu this is just another clan within the Ashikaga or allied with them. It also says that the Ogigayatu clan is defeated by the Hojo clan, and the Ashikaga clan was driven out of Kyoto by Oda Nobunaga. This means the girls will be in a time where there is a lot of clan conflicts, and sociopolitical problems in general. It was mentioned that the surrounding provinces (villages?) have been fighting, in the Ep. 1 flashback.

In the preview for the next episode we see that Towa will be possessed by a demonic root parasite that attaches to her face, most likely to get a hold of the Silver Pearl. I believe this thing was attached to the Three Eyed Mistress and is perhaps what caused her to rampage the local villages. There are a couple points in Ep. 2 where she begins to glow purple, much like the demon/creatures the girls are facing off with in the opening song. This makes me believe Root Head, who appears to be anchored to the sacred tree, must sprout root like creatures to do his bidding around the surrounding villages. This is quite worrisome as it seems that no one will be safe from these parasites. I have a feeling this will cause a lot of problems for the girls in their search for answers as they, and the company they keep, will be easy targets as they roam the land with 3 pearls. I bet stronger more fearsome demons could also be possessed in efforts to stop the girls from fixing the past, maybe even ones we are familiar with. Root Head could also be causing a lot of the clan conflicts in the surrounding villages, so that he can generate more fuel (AKA human heads) and gain more power. Yotsume, who I assume is working with Root Head, was already able to infiltrate one clan. Who knows if there aren't other allies of Root Head with other clan leaders, trying to spur on the blood shed. Just something to think about.

I believe The Three Eyes Misstress is most likely being used as a pawn to search for pearls, and it could be because of her strong ability to sense them? What I found very interesting was her saying that the pearl had demon powers, which makes me wonder about the theory of Kagome creating them. I believe she, as a priestess, would not have the ability to specifically create demonic pearls. So right now I am leaning more on the idea that they were already in existence beforehand. It also makes me wonder if the OG crew are sealed in them or they were thrown into the rainbow corrido like Towa was? But this doesn't explain where Sessomaru and Rin are if the twins have those pearls... but I’m not opposed to the idea that our beloved missing characters are in different time lines or realms in pearls form or not.

So it is now apparent that the pearls were created BEFORE the night of the fire as Towa, and presumably Sestuna, had the pearls in their eyes when they were very young. If Im going on the theory that Sesshomaru is the Silver Pearl and Rin is the Golden Pearl, something must have happened to them before the girls have the pearls, more in the past than we expected.

Another thing is that Towa mentions that they lived in the forest for a long time? I have noticed a lot of people interpret this as they lived alone in the forest, but in the english subtitles she simply states that they lived in the forest. I don’t necessarily think they were orphaned, someone had to have raised them and clothed them, but who?! Something else I noted was that Setsuna does not have her Monomoko with her when she is little, so it definitely is given to her after the fire. Does Sesshomaru save her? I have read some people suggesting that Sesshomaru may not even know he has daughters, but I don’t think this is likely because how would Setsuna receive her Mokomoko if she hadn't met him? The fandom have also been noting on how it was strange that these two girls ran around the forrest and there doesn't appear to be any demons around that may be threatening to them. I have a thought, perhaps this is an area that has been eradicated of demons from not only Inuyasha and crew, but Sesshomaru, so that his children can roam and live freely. I have a feeling that Sesshomaru will have more of a status role in the series, perhaps he reclaimed his fathers domain? I only think this because the girls are referred to as princesses, and why in a series that has put down half demons so much would they be addressed as such if it were not for their lineage? Something else that keeps nagging me is that perhaps the days of demons are coming to an end slowly? Or perhaps the scene below is an altered memory?

Another theory thats a bust is Moroha and Setsuna knowing each other, which is something I can not wrap my head around. How would these two girls who have such similar careers, never cross paths, and meet for the first time now after 10 years!? Although, I believe that Moroha meeting Setsuna for the first time and calling her “Setsu-chan” is what actually triggers the Golden Pearl in Setsuna’s eye to start glowing. Something about calling her by this nick name may be triggering a memory, perhaps there is a lost memory of Moroha calling her “Setsu-chan” when they were young and the annoyance she feels towards it is giving her some kind of nostalgia for a past she can’t remember.

Kohaku appears to know Moroha in a way, as she has made some kind of a reputation for herself as Beniyasha. He addresses her as “dono” in Japanese which I was told meant that he is showing her respect as an equal, most likely professionally. In english it was translated as “Lady”, which confused me but the Japanese version makes more sense. But how does Kohaku know her? Does he know who she really is, or have they had run ins with each other in the past? I would assume as leader/chief of the Demon Slayers he would keep track of reported bounty hunters slaying demons out side of his devision. But it appears he doesn't know much about her abilities as he was surprised she had sealing arrows.

Hisui also does not appear to know anything about her as he says “a demon and a bounty hunter?, as if he could only sense that she has demonic energy. So it’s safe to assume that Hisui and Kirara do not know/remember her, this could even be the first time they have met in person, and he only knows descriptions of her, but he does refer to her by name. I am a little concerned at Hisui’s haste to attack Moroha, despite her explanation that she was simply there waiting for her bounty, it definitely shows that he feels little respect for bounty hunters. At first I thought he was judging Moroha for being part demon... This made me wonder about his childhood, does he have some memories of something traumatic, perhaps a demon making his parents and maybe even his sisters disappear? However I doubt this now because of his familiarity with Setsuna and of course Kirara.

The one theory I'm most disappointed about is Hisui potentially not having a rainbow pearl. Because the Three eyed Mistress was able to sense Moroha’s and the one in Setsuna’s eye so easily, but made no indication that there was another present as she chases Hisui, Kirara and Setsuna towards Kaedes Village. So I now I have reason to believe that the largest bead on his prayer beads on his left arm is not a rainbow pearl. However! I am not completely dismissing the idea. I like to think that the prayer beads are actually concealing its power for the time being, at least until Hisui has his own moment where memories trigger a reaction from the pearl. Fingers crossed.

Whether it’s a pearl or not, I am still going with the theory that Hisui is spiritually inclined like his father. I think Hisui will play an important role in finding some of the pearls, specifically the coral and blue pearl. I hope as they set out for answers that Hisui and Kirara will be joining the girls. Hisui and Setsuna seem to have a solid working relationship (the ship has sailed folks!), and I am excited to learn more about what kind of personal relationship they have as they were most likely raised together in the demon slayer village. I have a theory that it is Hisui or Kirara who finds Setsuna during the fire which is how she eventually ends up in the demon slayer village and under Kohakus care. When it comes to any potential romantic feelings forming between Setsuna and Hisui I can see Setsuna being a little more indifferent about it and Hisui struggling hopelessly to gain her trust as more than just a fellow demon slayer. It would be really funny if he is the exact opposite of his father when it comes to love and has NO game what so ever.

Moroha seems familiar with the Rainbow pearls and the time tunnel, calling it the “Rainbow Corridor.” But how does she know about it!? After passing through the CorrIdor she also expresses that she feels weak, what would cause this? Is it Root Head draining their energy? Setsuna also seems to be having a hard time getting out of the Three Eyed Mistress’s hold, perhaps she too feels the effects of the time travel. This is completely different from the time passage Kagome went through, it must be specifically linked to the pearls (the name kind of gives that away). How much does Moroha know about this corridor? Another theory could be that she has seen this happen before to others, perhaps she recalls the events that caused the disappearance of our main characters but her memories are also altered. Before Moroha and Setsuna are pulled in, the tree (Root Head) actually speaks to them stating that it had not felt the the presence of the pearls for 10 years, so Root Head also knows or their existence, again firming the theory that they were in existence before the incidence that causes everyone to disappear and for memories to be altered. Perhaps Yotsume observed the creation or gathered information for Root Head on the Rainbow Pearls and set out a plan to collect them, and maybe in the past starting a fire was a part of this plan. Another thing is Root head says he is returning to THIS world, what could he mean by this? What world could it be returning from... curious.

With all of this, I am now convinced that almost everyone has had their memories tampered with, in one way shape or form, and some more than others.

Once again, that all I got for now! I’ll probably edit this post a few times tbh

This post goes out to @hanmajoerin @kumikodiary @inukag @viva-el-belt-libre @d-o-v-e-y @companion-for-who @biancam70 thanks for going theory crazy with me!! <3

#hanyo no yashahime #inuyasha #kagome higurashi #Sesshomaru #towa higurashi #moroha higurashi #moroha #half demon princess yashahime #Beniyasha #yashahimeprincesshalfdemon #hanyou no yashahime: sengoku otogizoushi #towa #Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon #Yashahime #yashahime theory

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shady-knight · 5 years ago

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Thirst

A/N: If you know me in real life, please don't read this. I'm serious. I'd die of embarrasment🤣

I wrote this because I recently rewatched the first episode and confirmed again that Claes literally slays me with his performance. (Any dialogue that you recognize is directly taken from the episode, I won’t take any credit for that, of course.)

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Pairing: Dracula x Reader

Warning: None, maybe UST (you don't get to bone the vamp-man)

Summary: You're Mina's sister and present when Dracula visits the convent. You think he's pretty hot.

When you had agreed to travel with your sister Mina to find her fiancee Jonathan, you hadn't ever in your life thought that you'd find yourself in a convent in Budapest, standing behind an iron gate at Sister Agatha's side and watching a wolf whimper as it fell to its side.

You were fearful, almost trembling when its flank tore apart and pale, bloodied hands emerged, followed by an equally pale (and naked) body. As the man (beast) wiped some slimy substance from his face and observed you, you were struck with the strangest mixture of dread and anticipation. "I don't know about you girls", he began, voice deep and alluringly accented as he stroked the wolf's belly, "but I do love a bit of fur." Bloody filth was smeared all over the man's skin, his chest absolutely covered, hair wet and dishevelled as he stood up, revealing the long panes of his nude limbs.

He stretched his arms wide, unashamed of his lack of clothing. "Suffer onto me." The dark eyes beneath heavy brows spoke of sin, of forbidden wants and delirious hunger. Then he laughed as he stepped toward the iron gate, revealing his razor-sharp, inhuman teeth.

You couldn't help but watch, spellbound, as Agatha taunted the beast of a man, calling the other Sisters, her eyes seemingly never straying below his face. The Count (Dracula, your mind whispered) struck his head through the gaps in the gate, watching you like he was the prisoner, not you.

You found it hard to do the same thing as Agatha, your own eyes betraying you and lingering on his naked torso and threatening to go even lower. Your cheeks burned when his (Dracula's) gaze swept over you and your insides burned even hotter when he grinned, again showing off his oh-so-sharp teeth. You tried not to flinch when he called out to the group, and preferred to hide in the corner, not meeting anyone gaze.

This man... this vampire, he ignited something buried deep underneath what you had been taught was good and proper. His careless show of power left you breathless and wanting to see more. Experience more of him. His might. Briefly, you wondered if this was part of his power, too. To make you want it. Well, if it it was, it was certainly working. You were vaguely revolted by how easily you fell for his vampiric charm - he hadn't even spoken a direct word to you and already you were more attracted to him than any man from back home who had asked for your hand.

There was just a certain something about him, beyond even being a vampire. It surely hadn't altered his face - and yet, you couldn't help but find him beautiful in his dark exoticism. Like a fallen angel, Lucifer personified.

When Sister Agatha opened the gate and forbid him from entering, you felt like fainting. How could she be so calm? So utterly unaffected? "I could tear you apart." You knew that his words weren't specifically geared toward you, but it didn't stop you from shivering. What was wrong with you? Why were you...not scared witless? Oh, you were nervous and afraid of dying but...you were also attracted to this...this monstrosity.

"A beast can follow rules. I don't expect it to understand them." When the vampire snarled, reaching out as if to strangle Agatha, you realised that you should better listen to the actual conversation than to contemplate why exactly you found yourself drawn to the Count Dracula. "I am more than a beast.", he countered, tilting his head a bit.

Your eyes trailed over his strong neck, down his shoulders and over his broad hairy chest. Belatedly, you realised that you'd never seen a man's naked chest before. "Do you want me to show you?", he answered when Agatha questioned him. "Of course. I'm waiting.", she told him and you marvelled again at her courage. Or was it stupidity? You couldn't decide. Dracula beckoned her forward until she was almost touching him. For a strange moment, you felt almost jealous of her, of the attention he was giving her. Mentally, you wanted to slap yourself to snap out of your sudden obssession with this...creature.

"Look at them.", he ordered softly. You could see that she was holding his gaze, not wavering. "Look at your sisters." Agatha did not turn and look as she replied. "Armed and ready." You could see that the stakes in the nuns' hands were trembling.

"You're not looking.", he countered, barely even blinking, their noses only a fist-wide apart. "I don't need to.", she shot back. He raised a clawed finger. "One of them. That's all I need. If just one of your pretty little army beckons me in, I will tear your world to pieces", the Count talked as one talks about the weather, as if it were inconsequential, "and I will drink my fill." You didn't want to imagine the carnage that he could probably unleash.

"Why would they invite you in? What do you have to offer?" You felt shame pool in your belly. It seemed that Sister Agatha could really not feel his demonic allure like you did. It made you feel dirty and weak. "Eternal life.", Dracula replied, so quietly that you wondered that you didn't have to strain to hear him. But his voice just seemed to fill the space effortlessly. "Well, they have that already.", the nun explained, then turned and began to dismiss him with a quick "Thanks" over her shoulder. You bit your lip, thinking that she was forgetting about you a bit with her answer. Maybe on purpose, maybe not.You weren't a nun.

"Starting tonight, because the first one to invite me in stays at my side.", the Count bellowed for everyone to hear, "The others, I will tear apart, and, ladies", he laughed, a sinister smile exposing his fangs, "I will take my time.", a pause, "One should never rush a nun." Blood rushed through your ears and you felt heady, a conflict you had never thought to know igniting in your veins. You couldn't hear what he was saying as he continued, your head spinning. But he had only said that one would live. If you let him in, he would kill Mina and take Jonathan. (What had he called him? 'His bride'? What a strange concept.) You couldn't let that happen to your sister.

Then Agatha cut open her palm with a knife and Dracula rushed toward her as far as he could, feral bloodlust colouring his eyes as he bared his teeth, growling like an animal being denied its rightful meal. She flicked her dripping blood over the convent's treshhold. "Oh, go on, help yourself. There's a dog comes past here most days. We often give it scraps." She did it again, watching as Dracula retreated into a corner, growling deep in his chest but trying to control himself.

"Go on. You've come so far.", she ventured mockingly, "I'm sure you could do with a drink." You breathed in sharply as the woman held out her palm, letting blood drip onto his face as he opened his mouth like a man dying of thirst, tongue darting out to catch the ruby red liquid before she snatched it away again. You wondered how Agatha could stand this - if it were you, you would never been able to stand it - the sheer eroticism of the scene.

"See I'm not certain I see the appeal of blood.", she told him, sucking a drop of her own blood from her finger. He snarled as she gestured at him with her boody hand, letting droplets of the ruby liquid stain his skin. "Each to his own, I suppose."

"Do you think provoking me is clever?", he asked her, breathless, nearly moaning. From your distance it was hard to tell but you could swear that his eyes were now a deep crimson. "Yes, I do."

You saw Dracula's throat work as he swallowed heavily. The way his breath passed his lips sounded almost obscene - like he had been doing an altogether different streinous activity. One that, ironically, would also require the same state of undress. "I want to learn about you. I want to see the limit of your capability." You admired Sister Agatha for her spirit. Truly, she was a very forward thinking, intelligent and confident woman. Not like you. "It's the point of this experiment.", you breathed in harshly, tightening your hand into a fist. She was almost treating this like it wasn't life-threatening for everyone involved. Like there wasn'ta liiteral demon at your doorstep.

When she offered the bloody knife to him, your heart stopped before speeding up again. The sound of his quiet gasps, the sight of his tongue licking along the metal - it made your abdomen clench involuntarily.

Then Agatha threw the knife completely to Dracula and turned away from him, returning to her spot among the other nuns. "Here, boy.", she added, as if talking to a pet. Dracula had crouched down to retrieve the blade and was treating it like he had been handed a delicacy.

"This is contemptible. You are without shame.", the Mother Superior spoke, watching him kneel over the knife with disgust in her eyes. "Be careful what you say to me.", Dracula threatened, a bit muffled while speaking around the blade in his mouth. His lips shined in the warm light of the fire and you found yourself moistening your own, aware of the saliva suddenly pooling beneath your tongue.

"Don't speak with your mouth full.", Sister Agatha chastined in true nun fashion. "She has earned the right to express her contempt, you know? We all have." Yes, you thought quietly, contempt for myself. For being so weak. She continued speaking about the nuns behind her, still conveniently ignoring your presence.

"That is why you can't bear the sight of this", she kneeled down, showing him her wooden cross, "it speaks of a holy virtue you do not possess. It is goodness incarnate." The Count only chuckled, his mouth curving upward. "For a moment there, I thought you were clever. But no. No, that's not why I fear the cross. Goodness has got nothing to do with it." In that moment, his eyes met yours for a second and you froze, like a deer about to be shot. He noticed your reaction and let his eyes linger for a bit longer before looking at Sister Agatha again. You didn't follow her next words, too confused by your raging emotions.

After Dracula revealed his ability to learn from tasting one's blood, Agatha turned to leave with the rest of the sisters. They were stalled by his snarls for a moment but Agatha soldiered on, not granting him a verbal reaction as she led the others back inside after carefully closing the gate again. (That a vampire couldn't enter didn't mean that no one else could, and it was at night.)

You hesitated, watching the vampire lick any excess blood off of his fingers, his tongue moving languidly. If sin had a feeling, it'd be the emotions you felt while looking at him in that moment.

"And what do we have here?", he suddenly asked, having finally noticed that you hadn't left with the rest after breaking out of his blood-induced reverie. "A lost lamb?" His voice was deep and throaty and, adressing you, it sounded downright heavenly in your ears. You blushed, stepping up to to the gate as if an invisible force compelled you.

"Did you make Jonathan one of your kind?", you quickly asked, wanting to deflect from your helpless desire for the vampire. He stared at you strangely for a moment, as if trying to remember something. "Let me guess...you're (Y/n), right? The sister of Jonathan's little fiancee." You didn't question how he knew. It'd be pointless, and not really important, besides. Maybe he'd 'read' it in Jonathan's blood.

He gave you a proper once over, his eyes no longer red. "And what a pretty thing you are. Downright delectable." By now, your face must be completely aflame. You certainly felt the blood pounding up to the tips of your ears. It embarrassed you further because you knew that he had to know, too. A vampire like him was bound to have superior senses. Sister Agatha had said that breaking iron would be like breaking matchsticks to him. It terrified and fascinated you at the same time. With vague discomfort, you wondered just how well-developed his sense of smell was in comparison. Could he? Surely not. You hoped not. "But to answer your question, yes, I did."

"Can it be reversed?"

"Not to my knowledge. Not that I've ever tried. When I don't need a vampire anymore, I have other ways of neutralizing them, you understand?" Absentmindedly, you nodded, your heart sinking. If Dracula didn't know of a way, how were you, mere humans, supposed to come up with something?

"But that question is not really the only reason you are here, isn't it, little bunny?"

"Bunny?", you echoed.

"Your heart beats as fast as a bunny's. But not from fear, I gather.", he purred, voice dipping lower. You again became very aware of his nudity, even if he was still covered in that disgusting mess. He stepped as close to you as he could, your eyes level with his chest, making you have to crane your neck to look at his face. A strand of black hair had fallen onto his forehead and you had the strangest urge to sweep it back, to touch him, see if his skin was as cold as you imagined it was. (You ignored the voice that said you just wanted to know if it'd feel as good as you thought it would.)

"I could hear your little heart beating away when I spoke to the woman", he briefly closed his eyes, "Agatha. The others were terrified - but not you." He breathed in deeply, shoulders raising slightly, eyes drooping half-closed again. "You were aroused.", the word dragged on filthily in his low, throaty tone. "You saw me and you wanted. Isn't that right? It's not shameful to admit it." A grin spread across his face, his fangs flashing slightly. "You wouldn't be the first. Even though", he continued, tilting his head a bit, "it's not often that I invoke such a strong reaction in someone. Agatha, over there, certainly seemed all but immune to my charms."

You swallowed harshly, shame simmering in your belly, along with need. "I'll tell you what, if you invite me in, you can have me. I'll give you my undivided attentions. I'll make you feel things you've never felt before. I can take you to heights of pleasure nobody else can. And all you have to do is", his voice was intoxicating, you almost felt drunk off of him. "invite me in." You wanted to, so badly. You wanted to take him in, consume him, be consumed by him. Let each other be devoured by desire. Your blood sang for him. You wanted to give in to him. He knew that you were crumbling when you leaned closer, your head resting against the iron bars. He leaned down and for a wild moment you wondered if he'd kiss you, but he aimed to the side, his broad tongue licking a hot trail upwards, over your right cheek, tasting your skin. He paused when he reached your ear. "Just say the words.", he whispered seductively. "I will do the rest."

You whimpered, goosebumps raising on your skin. "This isn't fair.", you murmured, desperation making your voice small. "Why are you so beautiful? Shouldn't a monster like you be revolting?"

You couldn't see it, but you heard Dracula inhale quickly and let out a sound that seemed like a groan. "You think I'm beautiful?", he questioned hoarsely. "My, my, what a suprise you turn out to be."

"W-what do you mean? Isn't that normal? Thinking that you look", you cringed slightly, not knowing how to phrase your unrational desire, "pleasing?" He withdrew from you and drew back to his full height, shaking his head as he did so. "While my, ah, vampiric charm draws most people in, they still tend to find me...well you said it yourself, unexplainably revolting. It's their base instincts telling them that I am their predator." His eyes held yours, appearing deep and unreadable. "Which you seem to lack. Tell me, is there no part of you that is repulsed by me?"

"N-no.", you admitted truthfully, heat gathering in your face anew. "Quite the opposite. I don't... I don't understand myself. I... I feel-... you compel me like I am a moth and you a flame." Dracula's lips morphed into a toothy smile, his dark eyes glittering. "Very curious. I do believe that I will enjoy any time I spend with you, my dear."

The black-haired vampire winked at you, smirking infuriatingly attractively and turned on his heel, quickly striding away, into the darkness. Your eyes trailed over his broad back, lingering on his perfectly formed ass as he disappeared from your view. You wanted to curse and rage. Why were you so bewitched?

~~~

After your meeting with the Count you went straight to bed, not caring about anything else. You didn't want to think about him - you just wanted to rest after an exhausting day. Mina would wake you up if something happened.

Waking to screams and growls echoing through the hall, you immediately sat up on your bed, a shiver running down your spine. A strange chill settled in your bones as you didn't dare move an inch from your bed, clutching the white sheets to your body and listening to the horrifying sounds until they finally died down. You didn't want to think about what it meant.

You strained your ears for something, anything else and almost jumped from fright when heavy footsteps resounded through the halls, growing ever louder. They were undoubtedly heading in your direction and, additionally, coming from the sort of shoes that you knew no Sister wore.

The footsteps stopped in front of door. You didn't dare breathe, shoulders shaking from tension and when you heard the first creak of the hinges of the door, you closed your eyes, not wanting to look evil in the eye, so to speak.

"Darling", he said and his voice was close like he was standing directly above you, "don't you want to see me?" Cool hands trailed over your shoulders and down your arms, making you flinch slightly, his fingers dancing over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your breath hitched and you held yourself as still as you could. "After all, I stayed just for you. I could already be on a ship to England, but here I am, paying you a visit." His hands grasped your own, encasing them in the inescapeable cage of his grip. You felt his breath skim your cheek when he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "You didn't think I would let you go, did you?" A stifled shriek flew from your lips when his teeth nibbed at your earlobe. "We're going to have so much fun, you and I."

Not being able to stand it any longer, you opened your eyes and were faced with a wall of broad chest, clothed in expensive looking clothes. Where he had gotten them from, you didn't know, but they fit the Count perfectly. He was mostly clean now, his black hair artfully swept away from his forehead, not a hair out of place. Despite that, you could see several small specks of blood splattered on his skin and the front, where his dark cloak opened to reveal a pristine white shirt and black vest combo.

It was then that you noticed him watching you study him and when you met his eyes, a dark grin bloomed on his face. "Yes, yes, I know. I clean up nicely, don't I?" He flashed you his teeth, and one of his hands curled around your right wrist tightly, the sharp nails digging into your flesh painfully, but not breaking skin. "Now up you get, my sleeping beauty.", he told you breezily and when you were too stunned to comply immediately, he yanked you up and onto your feet effortlessly. You stared up at him, mouth agape and heart racing. "Do you want me to take my clothes off again? You seemed to be much more talkative when I was naked."

"N-no, I..." you spluttered, trying unsuccessfully to free yourself from his grasp. "Now it almost seems as if the roles are reversed.", the Count continued teasingly and you drew your eyebrows together, confused. Freeing a hand, he gestured at your body and you followed the motion, suddenly realising that you only wore a thin white shift to cover your modesty. But it was quite too late to cover yourself. There was nothing that he could see that he would not have seen by now. Instead, you restricted your reaction to a quiet "Ohh."

"(Y/n). I know I said that I'd tear everyone in here apart but" he leaned closer to you, conspiratorially whispering against your temple, "I find that I do not want to do that to you." He stroked his index finger over the inside of your wrist almost tenderly and sought out your eyes, holding them with his. "Instead I have a proposition. An offer that, I'm sure, you will not want to refuse, my dear." You scarcely blinked and had to remind yourself to breathe as you felt lost in the depths of his eyes. Close like this, they looked like they belonged to just a normal human.

"Become my bride, (Y/n)." Your eyes widened. "Wasn't that...wasn't that what you called Jonathan?", you managed to ask. "Yes, well, the position has been left open by, let's say, tragic events. Johnny won't be doing much anytime soon.", he inclined his head, letting a little snort-like laugh escape his throat, "Or ever." You nodded slowly, closing your eyes for a moment. In a way, it felt cathartic. You knew that Jonathan would have never wanted this kind of undead life for himself, where he'd be a danger for your sister. He had truly loved her.

"My sister", you breathed, "is she...", you couldn't finish the sentence. The Count shook his head, his thumb catching you by your chin and tilting your head up. "She will live a long life, provided that she stays silent and doesn't come looking for anyone."

"But why?", you asked. "I exchanged her for Sister Agatha. That woman threatened to kill herself if I did not let her ward go." Your heart thuddered as you were filled with that strange jealousy again. "If you have her, why do you need me?", you questioned, trying to avoid his eyes. The grip on your chin tightened until it pinched. "Look at me, my dear." You obeyed. "Agatha won't become my bride. Much too feisty, that one.", his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Then why..."

"I will pick her apart and drink my fill off of her until her body cannot endure it any longer - and when she begs for it, I will kill her. But not too soon, I plan to make her last.", Dracula place a feather-light kiss against your jawline, just above the pulse-point in your throat. "You...you I plan to keep. I do so hope you'll become my most successful try." You blinked slowly, panting under the touch of his wicked lips.

"Give yourself to me." With a moan, you grapped at his lapels. He let you, pleasantly surprised that it wasn't to push him away but to pull him closer.

"Yes. Yesyesyes.", you chanted mindlessly against his chest, burying your face into the dark cloak that smelt faintly of blood, but mostly of a divine scent that could only be the Count's. It felt so good to let go, and it wasn't as if you had any better alternative. Denying yourself and, most likely, dying as a result wasn't worth it. Or at least that was what you told yourself as he stroked over your hair and settled a possessive hand on your back. "Come on, my dear.", he told you airily, "We have a long journey ahead of us." You followed him willingly.

#bbc dracula #dracula #dracula 2020 #dracula x reader #oneshot #UST #agatha van helsing #100 notes #wow guys #i thought this would get maybe 30 notes max #but i'm happy that you like it

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 4 years ago

Note

A "could be sexy, could be fluffy" request: what if the Yiga Husbands had a beach date? Can these two knuckleheads swim? Does fucking on the sand create logistical problems? Would Kohga have a heart attack if something brushed against his leg underwater because OH GOD WHAT IF THAT WAS A FISH EW EW SOOGA KILL IT!?

I COULD do a little snippet of such a cute idea!

“Sooga! Check it!”

“Master Kohga! You MUST cover-”

Kohga swatted his hand away, already tired of his fussing. They had agreed to do another double date with Link and Mipha, this time, at the beach, just a bit away from the Lurelin village. More specifically, Clarnet Coast. Link was actually the one who suggested the place (and he even did the honor of slaying all the monsters for them, less they become a pain in the ass), and Kohga dressed accordingly. Aka, In nothing but his mask, and his swim trunks. It was TECHNICALLY against Yiga culture to be so exposed in public, but you know what, he was a slut without rules. The one WITH rules however, was Sooga, who was apparently quite surprised by the sudden change of attire. Hell, he was standing in front of him, as if Kohga was nude.

“Don’t be a prude, Sooga! If anything, YOU’RE overdressed!”

Sooga cocked his head to the side, clearly confused.

“I...beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, we’re at the beach! It’s the PERFECT excuse to be more or less nude! We gotta get you something that lets you BREATHE in this heat.”

“....Yiga clothes are made for the Gerudo desert, how-”

“Shhhhhhh, I brought you shorts JUST in case.”

“You...planned this, didn’t you?”

“Get changed.”

Kohga threw the attire at him, and pointed to a nearby palm tree. Sooga sighed, walking almost shamefully to the tree. Kohga grinned as he joined the happy couple, who seemed to be making a sand castle. Oh this. This was precious. Kohga squatted next to them, holding up the sheikah slate, and snapping a pick of them both. Mipha pouted, playfully throwing some sand in Kohga’s direction.

"I wasn't READY for that! I'm covered in sand!"

“Shhh! You guys were cute, shut up. Adorable sand castle by the way.”

Mipha looked him up and down, chuckling into her palm.

“And adorable shorts, Kohga.”

Kohga looked down at his shorts. Red, littered in the best thing to exist; bananas. Kohga posed, much to the amusement of Mipha (and even to Link).

“Well I mean, not EVERYDAY I get the chance to show off the manliest body you’ve ever seen, might as well wear it in STYLE!”

“Did I have to do the same, Master Kohga?”

Sooga was suddenly right next to him, clearly a bit self conscious, given the way he seemed to be hugging his own chest. Kohga looked him up and down, nodding in approval. It was nice, seeing those scratched up muscles under the candlelight, up close and personal, but there was something so incredibly sexy about seeing those muscles out in the open, lit up by the bright sun. Honestly throw some chilly elixir on those titties, and you had yourself a big, sexy time. Kohga gestured wildly to him, making quite the scene out of it.

“Look at you, Sooga! You’re fine as HELL! Here, put your hands down.”

“W-what? I can’t be seen like this!”

Sooga took his hands away, gesturing to his own red shorts, decorated in pictures of salmon. Kohga took the chance to snap a pic, and Sooga immediately covered himself up again, turning away from Kohga. Kohga looked at the slate, showing it to Sooga.

“Look! You look great!”

“I did NOT want you to take a picture! Now that EXISTS! It’s bad enough I’m like this in public, AND in front of a princess, but now It’s in a PHOTO!”

Kohga rolled his eyes. Sooga had the body of a god, with the confidence of a fucking pebble.

“You look GREAT, Sooga! I have no idea what’s the issue, you fill those shorts out NICELY!”

Sooga sighed, rubbing at his quickly forming headache.

“Master Kohga, that's very sweet, truly, but this is humiliating.”

Kohga smacked his forehead, now getting a headache of his own.

“You know what- Link, make Sooga feel comfortable, take off your shirt.”

Link looked down at his island lobster shirt, and shrugged. He stood up, dusted the sand off of his hands, and peeled off his shirt, tossing it on the blanket Mipha brought with them. Sooga looked at him confused, Mipha covered her face, and Kohga...Kohga was looking.

“Good, but you know what, take off the pants too.”

Link didn’t even hesitate, peeling off his trousers. Leaving him in nothing but his underwear. Kohga loved Sooga, but god DAMN Link was a hot piece of ass. Kohga nodded in approval, totally not thinking about what he’d do to that body.

“See? Doesn’t that make you feel better?”

“W-no? How is this supposed to help ME?”

“Good point, good point. Link, ditch the undies.”

Link made the motion to do just that, before Mipha intervened, stopping his hand. Kohga scoffed.

“Prudes, all of you. In all seriousness, Sooga, there’s nothing ‘dishonorable’ about your body or whatever. We’re at the beach! It’s what you do!”

Sooga forced himself to put his hands down, but he didn’t look very pleased by this.

“Master Kohga, while that’s sweet, I very much disagree. NO ONE but you wants to see me like this.”

“I doubt that, honestly.”

Kohga motioned to Link in the back, who was...well, looking at Sooga’s extra weapon, suffice to say. Sooga groaned a bit in defeat, mainly because the Hylian champion staring at his crotch was a bit much for him to deal with right now. Mipha, ever the helpful one, offered a soft smile.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sure it feels nice to be free of your clothes, even for just an afternoon. It’s good for your health to get some sun.”

Kohga motioned to Mipha, shaking his head.

“See, this is what I love about Mipha, team player. Now, let’s get some fun under our belts!”

Mipha tried not to gawk at the tattoos that littered their bodies, watching as they both started to make a fire. As in, Sooga made a fire while Kohga seemed to be basking in the sun. Mipha and Link continued to add to their sand castle (with her ignoring how shirtless he was), merely enjoying one another's company. Mipha waited till Sooga took a dip into the water, before turning to look at Kohga.

"I noticed you both have tattoos. Why is that?"

"Oh EVERY Yiga gets that once they're officially in. The one I got was gifted to me by my old man, and I did Sooga's."

Mipha leaned up to hand Link a seashell, making sure he wasn't going to fall.

"I take it he really does trust you. Tattoos ARE quite the commitment."

"Oh he does, totally,"

Kohga nodded, laying back and soaking up the sun. Kohga LOVED the feeling of the nice, hot sun, and the feeling of hot sand in between his toes.

"It's cute honestly. HE'S cute. Don't tell him I said this, but I'm kinda. Serious about him, I think. Which is weird. I'm usually not serious, in terms of my relationships."

He turned to look at her, and she was squishing her own cheeks, practically fawning over him.

"Oh! That's very sweet! May I ask what separates Sooga from the bunch?"

Kohga saw that both Mipha AND Link were looking at him, excited half to death. Kohga put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.

"Don't get so mushy on me. I said I MIGHT be serious about him, I'm not getting on one knee here. I'm just saying he's...different. It's not just sex with this guy. He's genuinely and honestly sweet. He cares about me, and takes everything head on. If I told Sooga right now, to get me a piece of a sky, you best believe he won't rest till he got it for me. He's...serious. And it's so weird, how much I like it. How much I like HIM."

"That's terribly sweet, Master Kohga, truly."

Kohga noticed the sun was being blocked. He opened his eyes, and saw Sooga right there, dripping wet with water, a fishing spear over his shoulder, and that big, knowing smirk on his lips. Kohga glared at the two next to him, who conveniently went back to their sand castle. Kohga grumbled in embarrassment, before waving Sooga off.

"Shut up. Cook your stupid fish or whatever."

"Right away Master Kohga. But...one thing, if I may,"

Sooga leaned down, till his mask was inches away from his Master's.

"I like you too. More than anything in this life."

Before Sooga could get barked at, he turned, and skewered the fish, putting them by the fire (with some bananas and apples on a separate skewer for Kohga), and letting them roast. The sun was starting to slowly dip into the horizon, making for quite the view to go along with dinner. Kohga tried not to chat much, letting Mipha have her turn. She bit into her fish, nodding in approval.

"Thank you for dinner, Sooga. I'm really glad you picked this spot, Link."

Link was too busy fucking up his fish skewer to fully notice what she was saying. It coated his face in grease and random bits of food, making her chuckle.

"Oh Link, look at you, making a mess of yourself. Here, let me…"

Her voice trailed off when she held onto his face, wiping it free of food. That was when they seemed to have a moment, with Mipha holding onto his face, staring into his eyes. Kohga put the food down (and smacked Sooga's food out of his hands. Wasn't the first time), lightly shoving Sooga's side.

"Sooga, you, me, water, now."

Kohga was NOT going to mess with Mipha and Link having an ACTUAL kiss by the sunset. Kohga sighed once they seemed to be a decent space away from them, sighing.

"Hoo, we almost ruined their moment."

"I mean, you ruined my dinner though."

"You and your fish- look I'll make you some once I'm home, you baby. We just had to leave, I didn’t wanna ruin it for them. If it makes you feel better though, least you and I get some water time together!"

Sooga just now seemed to realize that they were ankle deep in the water, and something about that made him chuckle.

"I suppose taking a swim with you is a fair exchange. You do know how to swim, yes?"

"I can! I'm no Zora, but I do a killer doggy paddle. I just don't LIKE swimming exactly. It's usually just cold and wet, and I HATE cold."

Sooga held onto his hand, taking him as far into the water as he could, chuckling.

"My elder sister taught me how to swim. She had a Zora boyfriend, so she was well versed. I remembered every Sunday she'd take me out for a swim, we'd have enough seafood to feed the whole town."

Kohga chuckled too, gently making them stop before they got TOO deep into the water.

"You liked your family, huh? You talk about 'em like you still miss them."

"I do. Family is VERY important to me. I don't talk to them very much, for...reasons. But it's fine."

Suddenly Sooga pulled Kohga right to his chest, looking right down at him.

"I'm planning on having another family quite soon."

Kohga would've been creeped out by that, the idea of a huge family. But there was something so tender, so honest about his eyes. It made the idea sound...nice. Kohga chuckled, reaching up to cup Sooga's face in his hand.

"Good to see that Mipha isn't the only one getting that picture perfect moment."

Kohga reached up a bit to try to kiss him, before something touched his leg. A fish. A goddamn slimy, slippery, DISGUSTING fish. It made Kohga jump up, just in time for Sooga to catch him in his arms.

"What's wrong?!"

"A FISH touched me! Sooga don't just stand there, kill it!"

Sooga would question it, but he was smarter than that. He sighed, gave a quick apology to the fish, before bringing out one of his weapons, and stabbing the fish below him. At least it was a quick death.

"Happy?"

"Yes. Absolutely. Stupid, gross fish. If it was up to me id just get rid of them all. Ew. It TOUCHED me. Imma cut off this foot. Can we get back to dry land?"

"Yes, Master Kohga."

Sooga threw the dead fish towards a pack of birds (he'd feel evil, wasting a life like that) as he walked back up to land. Just in time to catch the two young lovers trying to keep their composure after what was most likely a heavy makeout session, given the blushing faces, and the lipstick smears all over Link's face. Perfect opportunity for a picture, which Kohga was more than happy to take. Mipha chose to change the subject entirely, chuckling awkwardly.

"So uhm, have a nice swim I t-take it?"

"Great, up until a fish touched me. Take it Link over here was having the same problem, eh?"

Mipha hid her face in her hands, whimpering in humiliation. Their relationship was still so new, so she was VERY embarrassed about it all. Kohga however, just found it adorable. Kohga looked up at Sooga, grinning ear to ear.

"I'm SO proud of myself for this, let that be known."

"I can tell, Master Kohga. The clan will be excited to hear of today's endeavor."

Mipha nearly jumped up, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You TELL them about me and Link?!"

Kohga shrugged.

"Well yeah, we ALL ship you guys. Everytime something cute happens, I tell 'em."

Mipha cupped her hands over her mouth, as if in terror. Link seemed to take that as a cue, and drew out his sword. Kohga glanced at Sooga.

"Sooga, you can run fast, right?"

"Fast enough."

"HYAH!!"

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

"Come on, that was KINDA fun."

Kohga chuckled. Link chased them for a good bit (the stamina on this boy), before they all seemed to collapse. Link and Mipha had ended up just a bit away from them, with Link being cradled in her arms. They seemed to be under a deep sleep, and it was a cute sight, seeing these two cuddling under the moon. Sooga sighed, shaking his head. Kohga was currently in HIS arms, and while that was sweet, the whole chase was something he could've done without.

"It made you laugh. That's enough for me."

"You sap."

Kohga chuckled. He hadn't recalled when was the last time he had so much fun. Though…

"You're cold."

"Yeah, kinda. Who knew being wet at a beach during night time would make you cold?"

He chuckled. Kohga was a master at making a fuss of things, and Sooga was SUCH an enabler. Constantly tending to his needs. Sooga pulled him closer to him, clearly holding worry on his features.

"I can make another fire, Master Kohga, would that help?"

Kohga shook his head, a very sneaky, very nice idea in mind. Kohga cupped his cheek in his hand.

"Actually….I know what you can do for me."

"Anything."

Sooga meant it too. So honestly and openly. So cute. With his free hand, he tugged at those pesky boxers of his.

"Let me ride you~"

Sooga sputtered, clearly not expecting such a proposition. He looked around wildly, as if someone heard Kohga say something so lewd.

“M-master Kohga! We’re not in the safety of our quarters. What if we-”

“Look, if YOU don’t wanna do it, that’s a different story. But I know that after a long, long day of seeing you baking in the sun, I want you.”

Sooga looked hesitant, even as Kohga dug his face into his neck, pushing his mask aside a bit to kiss at just that sweet spot. Sooga wanted him, he could tell. He peered over to where Mipha and Link were resting a bit reluctant.

“I...suppose if you can stay quiet.”

“If I can stay quiet? Sooga, YOU’RE the moaner in this relationship.”

As if to prove it, Kohga tugged at his ear with his teeth, making Sooga moan far too loudly. He slapped his hand over his mouth, blushing up quite the storm. They stood still when they saw Link move a bit in his sleep, and sighed when neither seemed to wake up. Kohga chuckled, patting at his chest.

“See? You’re a loud boy. We’ll be fine though, I promise. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to keep a pretty boy quiet for me.”

Kohga put his hand over his mouth, sliding onto his lap and grinding in his lap.

“There we go, big boy. We’ll keep you nice and quiet, I’ll ride that cock of yours, and no one will know. YOU just have to sit there, let me do my thing, and let me know if the lovebirds behind us are starting to stir. Nod if this sounds like something you wanna do. If not, I’ll get off of you right now.”

Sooga seemed to stiffen, before he gave a nod. Kohga grinned, and peeled down those pesky swim trunks. Not fully, just enough to get their dicks out, and just enough, in case they had to cover up quickly. Kicking up a bit of sand in the process, Kohga got comfy on his lap, slowly sinking himself down onto that dick. That dick always felt DAMN good inside of him, and he relished in the feeling. He started off nice and slow, just how Sooga liked it. He kept his face buried into his neck, giving Sooga that voice kink he seemed to have.

“You handle me SO well. So nicely, like a good, good boy. It’s so great, isn’t it? Fucking you out in the open? Anyone can see me with you. Anyone can see me fucking MY Sooga. ANYONE could catch me riding this nice, big dick of yours. Anyone can see me taking you up my ass. You like my ass, don’t you? Like how it feels wrapped around this cock?”

Sooga nodded to his words, whimpering against his palm. He’d occasionally look over to Mipha and Link, just to make sure they wouldn’t get caught, but as Kohga kept going, kept riding his dick and nibbling his ear, Sooga wasn’t looking over to them anymore, focusing solely on his Master’s movements. Sooga even kept his hands on his ass, desperate to cop a feel for any part of his master.

“You’re so pretty like this. Liking my ass, liking my voice, liking ME. Do you know how cute you are? How pretty you look, getting FUCKED under the moonlight? It’s that bullshit romantic stuff you love so much. I hate that about you, but in the best way possible. You’re such a big, pretty wuss, and I’d LOVE to be caught taking you like this.”

Kohga loved the big, wet man underneath him, and Sooga loved the dirty talking, passionate man above him. It was stupid, it was bullshit, and Kohga hated the fact that Sooga came inside of him so goddamn quickly. The thick, sticky cum felt good inside of him, but it was so sweet, knowing that Sooga loved him so much, that he couldn’t help his cock. Kohga panted, stopping just for a second to watch Sooga lay there, shaking and panting. He could see the steam pour out of his mouth from behind his mask, and damn was it pretty. Kohga peeled his hand away, wiping his drool off on his swimming trunks. Sooga found his voice, though it was rather shaky.

“I...I love you, Master Kohga. I want to mar-”

Kohga felt the sudden rise of panic fill his heart. Oh no. Oh no. He was saying THAT word. The shit that scares the crap out of commitment issues guys like Kohga. It was why he pushed his head back, and shoved his dick inside of his mouth. He tried not to show that he was nervous as absolute shit.

“I’m not done. Let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

Sooga didn’t hesitate. Of course he didn’t. He sat there like a good boy, sucking and slurping on his dick, soaking his drool (and Kohga’s cock) in his drool. His eagerness, his moans, even the fascination in his eyes. It felt damn good to shoot a load of cum into his mouth, and even better to watch it dribble down his pretty chin. Kohga rolled off of him, letting himself thud onto the sand like a fat sand seal (but like, in a sexy way). They both sat there for a moment, covered in cum and the smell of the sea, just staring at the moon. It was so awful and romantic.

“Sooga?”

“Yes?”

“I have so much sand up my ass.”

“....me too.”

#asks #kohga #sooga #link #mipha #lemon #im #so proud of this #no cap

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intricate-oeuvre · 5 years ago

Text

On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part III

A/N: Ahhh, update!!! This is a bit of a filler chapter, so I can set mood for the next big turning point. Also I don’t know how long do you guys want this story to be? Hit me up if you want to be tagged. Likes, reblogs, comments, fanarts, playlists, moodboards are always welcomed!

Word count: 3.1k+

Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.

Warnings: Nudity, but nothing too graphic. Alcohol (drink responsibly). Angsty, kind of. Bad grammar, since English is not my first language.

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

Before Axelia had gone and slayed the monster she had found some old lady that was ready to take her in for some time, or until she will be ready to leave for the next place, next monster.

Now she was making her way towards that place. With deep sigh she exited the grove and stopped at the small stream that separated the village from the said grove. She leaned down near the stream, letting her fingertips dip in the cold, refreshing water, she washed her hands off, at least enough to knock on the old lady’s door. Then she stood up again and shook off her hands. Girl with the tulle blindfold carefully made her way across the small stream and then walked on the dirt road. She heard chatter of the people that were walking through the village. Someone was feeding their pigs; another was chopping wood. Someone three houses down was forging iron. Then there were giggles and laughs of children. Some even running past her, making girl stop and turn around as she followed the sound, small smile of wonder curving on her lips. Which soon turned into look of curiosity as she heard the whispers that followed afterwards. Kids were talking about her. The way she had outlandishly white hair, or the fact that she looked as if someone had been dragging her on the ground for hours to no end. Or maybe it was the blindfold that made her look odd, or two swords that were attached to her back. Axelia didn’t indulge anymore on that chatter and turned back around and continued her path to the old woman’s house. She just wanted a hot bath and some peace and quiet as everything seemed to be annoying her at the moment. As curious as she was about the talks going around about her, she, at the same time, couldn’t take anymore talking.

With three quiet taps of her knuckles against the wooden door, she was granted the warmth of the house.

“Oh, lords, look at you, dearie!” Old woman exclaimed and putted her hands together as she saw how Axelia looked like.

“Did that beast do such a thing to you?” old lady asked.

“Nothing serious. It’s mostly dirt and some scratches. Nothing that good night’s sleep won’t fix.” Axelia replied taking a seat at the nearest chair as she was wishing to get off her boots faster.

“I am going to draw you a bath. Would you like that?” She asked the girl.

“Yes, thank you very much.” Axelia said as she pulled off her boots and putted them down by the fire to dry.

“Are there some specific herbs you’d like in your bath?” lady had asked. All people around here were herbs gatherers, that much girl knew.

“Velvet rose and sandalwood.” She said without thinking. After realising what she had said, she hissed and looked up at the lady, who was already gone to prepare her a bath.

“Great.” Axelia rolled her eyes and stumbled to where she heard the sound of the running water.

*Some time later*

Axelia was sitting in the wooden tub. Fire crackling softly to her right, casting the right side of her face in orange glow as her shoulder was getting pleasantly warm. The old lady was sitting behind her on the small stool and combing Axelia’s white hair that was now wet and cascading down her back. Girl absentmindedly played with the rose petals that were spinning in the water every time she moved. Girl didn’t talk much, but the old lady seemed to be the opposite. She told Axelia how she became living here and that she was once married and has a daughter, similar Axelia’s age, at least in the appearance. How all her children were living in different cities and villages. All the reasons why she was alone in the big house, only her and two maids with two stable boys, that she raised like her children. Axelia didn’t answer much to it, only occasional hum and nothing else. At some point Axelia had quite blatantly asked the old lady to leave her alone for the moment. And without questions and only full with understanding, the lady had grabbed her dirty clothes and left the girl.

Axelia had her left elbow propped on the side of the bath tub, while her fingertips were against her forehead. She was trying to not listen for once, not feel for once and just let her body restart. At the moment she was feeling as everything was setting her off, keeping her on the edge. In her other hand there was small woodchip, as she was turning it over and over with her fingers, to distract her mind. For a second her eyebrows rose up as she heard commotions downstairs. She didn’t pay any heed to it and with a deep sigh stretched her legs under the water. Couple moments later doors to her room opened, without raising her head she said in a tired voice:

“May I be undisturbed for the rest of the night?” And as she finished that sentence, she raised her head and froze for a moment, similar to dear that is fearful and is listening for noises and smells.

“What are YOU doing here?” Axelia said, sitting up straighter and pulling her knees to her chest.

“I told you to leave me alone.” Axelia grumbled, in no mood to talk to Geralt who was standing in her room now.

“Your payment.” He said as he tossed the leshen’s head near the tub alongside with purse of coins.

“You brought dirt in old hag’s house. And thus, in my room.” Axelia looked down at the scull, that still had the broken antler missing. She raised her right leg out of water and putted its calf on her other knee, wiggling her toes as the water dripped down now exposed leg.

“If that is all, you can go.” Axelia said, turning her attention back to the water, listening how water droplets hit surface of the scented water.

“Geralt, you forgot-” There was a voice that Axelia didn’t recognise. Jaskier had just entered her room too, holding other antler in his hand.

“What are we doing in the naked maidens chambers? Together?” Jaskier asked raising one eyebrow as his eyes slid from Geralt to Axelia.

“I’m hoping that not only talking.” Axelia tilted her head to the side, small smirk playing on her lips. Jaskier could feel the tension in the room and it was not between him and the girl in the bath nor it was one akin to pleasure.

“I, um… I got your... horn?” Jaskier said, pulling on the collar of his jacket as he briskly walked to the bath and extended the antler toward Axelia. Axelia extended her hand, palm up but didn’t take the antler from him. With still outstretched hand, Jaskier turned his head back to look at Geralt, questioning look on his face.

“Put it in her hand, Jaskier.” Geralt answered with slight roll of his eyes. The bard did as he was told, and as soon as the girl grabbed the antler out of his hand, he stepped back, still standing slightly behind the witcher.

“Thank you.” Axelia smiled politely and instantly started to twirl the antler in her hand.

“But I don’t need it.” She said dropping it near the bath.

“And now you can leave, so I can continue my bathing.”

“Water’s cold already.” Geralt said not missing a beat.

“Fine.” Axelia said in steady voice as she braced herself on the edges of the tub and on her right, got out of it.

“Oh, sweet…” Jaskier exclaimed, hiding his face behind Geralt’s back. The witcher only let out a displeased grunt as he casted his eyes down at the floor. With her back naked to two men, Axelia reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself.

“I’m… I am going back downstairs.” Jaskier said sliding away from the back of Geralt and disappearing from the room.

“Is that your jester?” Axelia asked as she pulled a comb through her hair.

“Jaskier is a bard.” Geralt’s voice come from somewhere closer than before.

“Why don’t you go downstairs now? Join that Jaskier of yours. I am pretty sure that they have ale or something.” Axelia said putting down the brush on the table in front of her.

“Look…” Geralt started, briefly receiving disapproving sigh from her.

“About what you said.” He continued.

“I don’t like where this is going. You should leave. Before you say too much, Geralt.” Axelia said, looking down at the floor. All she could feel was him standing behind her, as his warm breath landed on her naked shoulders.

“I didn’t want to-” Geralt started again, but Axelia interrupted him:

“Leave me?” she took a step forward, away from him.

“Axelia.” Geralt said sternly.

“Leave. I need to get dressed.” Axelia run her hand along the dress that was on the bed.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Geralt said, his yellow eyes following her hand movement.

“I don’t feel like showing my scars to you right now.” Axelia said holding towel closer to her chest. Her head turned towards the door, where one could hear cheers from downstairs.

“Go. Join them.” Axelia putted her hand gently on his chest and gave him a small push backwards. He didn’t fight her, with only a nod towards her, went downstairs.

Axelia was left alone for a moment, when there was a small knock on her door.

“What is it?” Axelia asked half annoyed as she was securing her hair in low bun at the nape of her neck.

“Are you wakeful, dearie?” Old lady peaked her head in her room.

“Yes.” Axelia half whispered.

“May I come in?” old lady asked even though she already had come in.

“Boys must be keeping you up with all that noise.” Lady said sitting on Axelia’s bed.

“I’ll manage. After all I grew up in a place with mainly boys.” Axelia sighed at took a seat next to the lady. She let her hands slide along the skirt part of the dress that lady had given her. Axelia was never one for the dresses. They always got in her way. Restricted the movement of her body.

“I guess alongside the big one.” Lady chuckled. Axelia hummed in response.

“But there is something more.” She continued to tell the girl.

“Maybe in past.” Axelia sighed, looking around the room. Without a word, the old lady took hold of Axelia’s left hand and held it in her lap.

“Tell me what happened.” She asked her softly.

“He left…” Axelia started in the softest voice, barely above the whisper.

“Without any explanation. Left me alone on the doorstep. I thought that all the things we faced together until that…. I thought that there was something more to it. Maybe it wasn’t the connection he was looking for… I don’t… know… that winter he didn’t come back… I was being a fool… for waiting for him to come back… I was alone… no one believed me that I could do this… this…whatever this is…” girl explained, her head now in the old lady’s lap as she used her hands to express her mixed emotions.

“I was all alone… and all the parts of me that I showed him… kind of disappeared… I thought that he loved me… we didn’t say that… not directly, anyway… but I thought that… he had this thing with tapping me three times… I didn’t know what that meant… still absolutely don’t… he tapped whatever part was closest to him… just *tap tap tap*” Axelia tapped lady’s knee three times.

“Only three times… no more, no less… tap tap tap.” Axelia tapped in air with her finger.

“After the second winter, I kind of… got sick of it… news travelled fast you know? I heard that he was coming back… I don’t know why or for what… but he wasn’t alone…” Axelia explained, letting out some details, not willing to bare her all to some stranger.

“With who?” old lady asked softly, letting her fingers brush hair out of Axelia’s face.

“Yennefer…” Axelia said softly, without any malice in her voice.

“This pretty girl, the sorcerer… the one that had stolen his heart… Love of his life.” Axelia said, single tear running down her face. She remembered that, she didn’t want to, but she did. Vesemir had said something about Geralt coming back, to do something. Unfinished business of sorts. But when Vesemir had mentioned another name, Axelia was confused. She had asked him to explain who this Yennefer is to be. And once Axelia had learned about this all ordeal of love of his life, she didn’t want to linger. She had run upstairs to her room, packed as little as she could and escaped the Kaer Morhen through the hole in the wall, so just she wouldn't have the option to run into him and the love of his life. But that was years ago, even though the memory was burnt in her head like with flaming spear.

“You know…” old lady started as she saw the unhappy look on girl’s face.

“In one lifetime you can and will love so many times, but there will be that one that will burn your soul forever.” She continued.

“Yeah… right…” Axelia scoffed with slight roll of her eyes.

“Sweetheart, do you know the difference between the love of your life and a soulmate?”

“Aren’t you supposed to love your soulmate for the rest of your life…” Axelia furrowed her brows.

“You choose the love. You choose who to love. How long? That is up to you. But the soulmate… soulmate isn’t a choice, dearie.” Lady explained.

“What are you implying?” Axelia sat up, dried her tears and blinked at the lady.

“Maybe he’s your soulmate. Have you thought about that?” lady looked at her with caring smile.

“No… never…” Axelia trailed off, her eyes drifting towards the door.

“He might not love you in the same he does this Yennefer. Nor does he love you in a way that you might understand love. But there always will be that connection, that power that will draw you together. You might think that you both are just making your way through the fog, but in reality, you’ll just end up meeting each other again. He needs you as much as you need him.” Lady explained. Axelia sat there, thinking. Her thoughts running in circles. Her ears buzzing. Hairs on her hands raising, sending shivers down her spine.

“I…umm… I gotta…” Axelia stood up, pointing at the door.

“You better…” Old lady got up too and opened doors for her.

Axelia didn’t walk down all the way. She stopped in the middle and just looked over the railings. There at the table sat Jaskier telling some magnificent tale about his and Geralt’s adventures. The stable boys drinking and laughing, and cheering at that. Two maids seemed to listen in as well, but their attention was caught by the handsome witcher sitting at the same table, tankard of ale in his hand, and annoyed look on his face. Axelia leaned against the railing and listened at the story that Jaskier was telling. But her unseeing eyes seemed to be drawn towards the witcher.

What if the old hag was right? What if he was her soulmate? What if it was inevitable for her to meet him here? What if it was inevitable for him to find her in that forest? She would have stared longer at the witcher, but he caught her stare and quirked an eyebrow at her, that familiar scent of velvet rose and sandalwood more prominent than ever. That smell could numb all his senses and he wouldn’t complain. He could drown in that scent and he wouldn’t even fight for his life.

“What?” Axelia mouthed but didn’t move away from her spot on the stairs. Jaskier, on the other hand, had caught the look that Axelia shared with Geralt.

“Ah, yes, the blind she-witcher!” he exclaimed, raising his tankard and cheering at the girl on stairs. This only got him a look of disapproval from Geralt and annoyed sigh from Axelia.

“Come, join us!” Jaskier got up and made his way towards Axelia.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Axelia said taking a step back but she had nowhere to go as Jaskier grabbed her hand and dragged her to the table, making her sit between himself on her left and one of the maids on her right. And next to that maid sat Geralt.

Great. She was stuck somewhere she didn’t want to be in the first place.

“Do tell us of your adventures!” one of the stable boys in front of her asked, sending a smirk her way. Axelia furrowed her brows, but didn’t say anything.

“How can a blind girl fight monsters…” giggled one of the maids that seemed to be tipsy already.

“It just takes sword and little bit of courage.” Axelia explained pulling on her sleeves, as she didn’t feel like being in the centre of the attention.

“That sounds like lines for my next song.” Jaskier mumbled to her left.

“That kind of life must be hard. No man in your life and all…” other maid on her right said, leaning her head on Geralt’s shoulder.

“I’ll choose to not answer that…” Axelia leaned her elbows on the table.

“Oh? Why not?” still giggled the first maid.

“I don’t want to talk about that one asshole…” Axelia answered matter of factly and sent a small look to Geralt, who looked at her incredulously.

“He was not an asshole.” Geralt said in his tankard as he drank ale.

“Oh, really?” Axelia’s eyebrows rose up as she leaned away from the table and turned to look at Geralt.

“Let’s see, hmm. That asshole left me. Didn’t explain anything. Not a single word. What else? Didn’t come back for two years. Oddly enough. Oh, and when he did come back, it was with another woman. And a child. I could live with that child part, because that’s complicated and he kind of asked for it. Destiny has something for all of us. But you know, no explanation... How’s that for an adventure story.” Axelia finished her rant with crossing her hands.

“We weren’t together.” Geralt gave her a pointed look.

“We...?” Jaskier mumbled, his fingers pointing to Axelia and Geralt, as he was drawing parallels in his head.

“We slept together!” Axelia stood up. She bunched up her skirt part of the dress and climbed over the bench and was ready to leave.

“As if you haven’t slept with anyone else.” Geralt called behind her. She swiftly turned around, still holding her dress:

“Speak for yourself, Rivian. Some of us don’t really go for unmeaningful sex.” Axelia huffed. There was silence as both of them stared at each other.

“So, you two were together…?” Jaskier asked meekly, pointing at both.

“Jaskier.” Geralt warned the bard.

“Shitty day to learn that you are my soulmate, I suppose.” Axelia mumbled quietly to herself, but she was pretty sure that the witcher at the table was the only one who heard her.

“I bid you all good night.” Axelia made a little bow and walked up stairs. Geralt only stared at her leaving form. With annoyed grunt he got up and went after her.

~~~~

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

tags: @boiled-onionrings @fandomwithnolifesblog @901seconds @kingniazx @shesakillerkween @your-dreams-are-strong @stitchattacks @ayamenimthiriel @stormfire6 @mr-illegal-king @stretchkingblog97 @mikariell95

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #roach the horse #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #jaskier #butcher of blaviken #geralt imagine #witcher yennefer #witcher oc #witcher netflix #withcer games #gwent #deadly series #angst #soulmate

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