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kingkatsuki · 3 years ago

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Vengeance | Awase Yosetsu x Reader

Hihihi! Here is another BNHArem collab! The prompt for this month was Mythology/Folklore. It was very very much out of my comfort zone so a special thank you to @autumnalsteahouse for helping find some amazing greek mythology stories I’d never heard of before. This fic is based off the story of Ares and Aphrodite!

Please check out all the other talented people on the masterlist here.

Pairing: Awase Yosetsu x f!reader, mentioned Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, cheating, implied murder (not depicted), implied pregnant!reader, cunnilingus, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 3.7k.

You kept an eye over your shoulder as you hurried through the quiet streets at night, tugging your shawl tighter around your frame as you neared your destination. Worried that someone may catch you out alone so late and begin to question what you were up to. Disobeying the Gods would surely be frowned upon and it was a secret you had done well to hide for many months prior. A deceit that you wanted to remain hidden, the thought of losing what you had too much to bear. Moving your fist to rap against the large oak door as you gasped in surprise as it opened before you made contact, your body slipping between the gap as you were pulled into a warm set of arms. A gentle glow from the full moon shone inside the dimly lit workshop, illuminating your skin as the man stroked his calloused fingers along your sides.

“Did he see you?” Peppering kisses against your jawline as his hands find purchase on your hips, dragging your body against his.

“He never sees me.” You muse, turning your head to the side to give Awase more space to press his lips against the apex of your neck, engulfing himself in your scent as he held you tight against his body.

“Yeah? You better hope he never does.” Awase smirks against your skin, “The Gods won’t be favourable to this kind of deceit.”

“The Gods are the reason I’m in this predicament now.” Your arms came up to circle around his broad shoulders, grinding yourself against the hardness beneath his trousers as you pulled a low groan from his lips, “Cursing me to be with him.”

“Then leave.” Awase pulled his face back to stare into your eyes, his palm caressing your cheek as you leaned into his touch, “Aren’t you tired of the lies?”

It wasn’t that easy. The Gods had given you to Bakugou, as though you were an object fit for bartering. Your hopes, dreams and ambitions nothing to them, instead sacrificing your happiness for his.

“You know it’s not that simple.” You couldn’t bear to look into Awase’s eyes.

“You carry my child,” Awase murmured, his palm pressed against the swell of your abdomen. You were barely showing, even though weeks had passed. There was no way that Bakugou would realise that you were pregnant, especially that it was with another, “Surely he doesn’t think it’s his?”

“He doesn’t know.” You replied simply, “There is no way he’ll allow me to leave.”

“Then I’ll kill him.” Awase pressed, his grip on your waist tightening as his calloused fingers dug into your skin, causing you to gasp out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“You cannot kill the God of fire.” You scoffed, “Many before you have tried.”

Your enchanting beauty had attracted many suitors to you, even though you belonged to Bakugou. The ethereal glow that surrounded you was like a spotlight for potential suitors but it didn’t matter. Not when you belonged to the God of Fire, Bakugou Katsuki.

“You know I’m not like the others.” Awase gave you a smug smirk, “I’m certain you can attest to that.”

“Hm, the God of War against the God of Fire-” You leaned up to press your lips against the corner of his mouth, cherishing the way he tilted his head to try and capture you in a fiery kiss.

“The real winner would be I, with my spoils.” Awase grinned, his hands curving around your body to squeeze your ass, rutting his clothed hips against yours so you could feel his thick cock pressing against you. A sweet moan leaving your lips as he finally brought his lips to your own in a sultry kiss, his tongue sweeping against your lips as he pushed through. Teasing the roof of your mouth as your hands clung to him, silencing your whines as he began to roll his hips against you. Creating a delicious friction as you forgot about everything else, all that mattered in this moment was you and him.

“I don’t think you understand, Yosetsu. There is a vengeful darkness inside of him, he sees me as his possession. I fear he’ll never let me go.” You hadn’t told Awase about what had happened before, the relationship with your husband becoming cold and stale while you sought solace in the arms of another. It made you feel appreciated and loved again, the flurry of emotions pouring out of you and making you feel like you had the first time you fell in love.

“The sooner he learns you belong to me, the better.” He spoke against your lips, his hands moving to the ties of your dress as he shrugged the soft fabric down your shoulders, the material pooling around your hips as your breasts spilled free. Warm hands palming the supple skin as he felt your nipples harden beneath his touch. Arching your back as he began to pinch and pull at the hardening buds, marvelling at the sounds that left your pretty lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” Awase murmured as he lowered his head towards one of your round breasts, his tongue sweeping gentle circles around your darkened areola as your fingers carded through his messy hair. Pushing yourself into his touch as he encased one of your hardened nipples. Teeth grazing the soft surface as you gasped in surprise, tugging the bud away from your body before letting it drop back in place. His tongue salves the sensitive skin after as you let out more sinful sounds, desperate to hear more as he moved to your neglected breast.

A searing hot desire burned in your core as you rubbed your thighs together for any kind of relief, trying to remember the last time your husband had touched you like this. So focused on forging with flames that his hands would no longer touch the wife he had at home. To everyone you were the Goddess of beauty and sexual love, no man unable to resist your charms. Except that is, for your husband. In his mind you belonged to him and this was all that mattered, no need to try and court you any longer as he had won the ultimate prize. Spending more time in his workshop than he ever spent with you, it was no wonder that you would seek solace in the arms of another.

“Tell me you love me.” Your fingernails scraped against Awase’s scalp, causing the young man to grunt as he pulled away from your chest with a ‘pop’. The flat of his tongue swiping against your hard nipple before moving his gaze to meet your own, a large palm circling around your neck to squeeze gently.

“I love you.” His breath fanned against your skin as his fingers moved to tug down your dress, allowing the flowy fabric to pool on the ground around your feet. Leaving you completely bare to his gaze as he drank in the sight of you, intoxicated eyes mapping out every inch of exposed skin.

Even the way Awase looked at you was different to your husband, inquisitive eyes always so full of love and lust. It was one thing to be called the Goddess of beauty and sexual love, but another to actually feel like that. It was the way that he made you feel whenever he gazed at your form. Many men before had seen you as a conquest, a trophy to be won, but Awase was different.

Gentle fingers began to trace along the curve of your thighs, parting them like an army of myrmidons taking commands from their leader. An airy gasp leaving your lips as you felt Awase drag the back of his knuckle through your slick walls. Catching against your clit as your body bucked into him, hungry for more.

“Always so responsive, my love.” Awase smirked as he repeated the motion, feeling your slick beginning to coat his skin as he spread you apart with his index and ring finger. His middle finger giving one, gentle tap to your clit as he watched how responsive you were for him. Hips lurching forward in an attempt to get him to repeat the motion, “You like that?”

“Yosetsu,” You whimpered, hands holding onto his broad shoulders for some semblance of reality, preventing your legs from giving way, “Don’t tease.”

At this you felt his middle finger press taut against your clit, a sinful moan leaving your lips as you began to roll your hips against him. Shamelessly seeking out your own pleasure as he dipped his finger lower, circling your tight entrance as he gathered more of your essence on his digit. Moving back to push teasing, repeated circles against your puffy clit. It wouldn’t take long for you to come undone, it never did with his skillful fingers as he kept his continuous motion.

“So impatient.” Awase smirked, dropping to his knees between your thighs. The only person in the world that he would kneel to as he began to press chaste, open-mouthed kisses against the curve of your thigh, close to your outer labia as your body cried out for him. Hips spasming as you tried to draw him closer, thighs raised around his shoulders as you tightened your grip. Squeezing either side of his head as you felt him exhale, warm breath tickling your slit.

The more he teased you, the more you found yourself wanting him. Tugging on his hair to try and pull him towards where you needed him most, your desperate cunt clenching around nothing as he pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of your mound.

“So impatient.” Awase tsked, nuzzling his nose against the top of your slit, “Are you going to deny me my fun?”

You shook your head no, worrying your lower lip between your teeth as you tried to ignore the insatiable throb that emanated between your thighs. The sight making Awase grin as he pressed a soft kiss to your neglected clit, feeling the way your thighs shook and clenched around his head. This time jutting his tongue out to lap at the sensitive pearl, making you cry out for him as he latched his lips around you.

“Yosetsu.” You cried out for him, gasping when you felt his slender fingers teasing your tight entrance, circling the fluttering hole as he dipped his forefinger into the first knuckle.

“Always so responsive for me,” He mused, giving sharp, shallow thrusts into your eager hole as you greedily tried to take more of him inside you, “So beautiful.”

You cried out as he caught you off guard, sliding his finger inside you to the hilt and curling it towards the spongy spot inside you he knew better than the back of his hand. Dragging the calloused pad against it as he continued to flick his tongue against your clit, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked the sensitive nub into his mouth.

He always said he knew your body better than you knew it yourself, and perhaps he did. He certainly knew it better than your husband, eager to help seek your own pleasure before his own. Bakugou was far too often quick to chase his own pleasure, seeking his own release above your own. You had never known true pleasure until you had met the God of War, and now he had you addicted. So addicted that you were here instead of with your husband, a certain formal infidelity that could no longer be considered acceptable by the Gods. This was dangerous.

Crude sounds filled the cool evening air as Awase feasted on your cunt, sliding his tongue between your labia as he lapped at your drooling slit, wet fingers teasing your clit as dark eyes gazed up at you. Pearly tears clinging to your perfect lashes as you tried to keep yourself upright. Dipping inside your tightness as he tasted you on his tongue, low hums vibrating along your slit as you felt the familiar sensation of your release sneaking up on you. The coil inside you tightening as he continued to fuck his tongue into your tight hole, fingers relentless against your clit as he worked you towards your climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yosetsu.” You cried out, your legs giving way but he supported your thighs on his strong shoulders. Your back flat against the wall as he continued his ministrations.

“Such a filthy mouth on such a beautiful Goddess.” He pulled back from your slit to smirk up at you, the loss of contact making you whine in annoyance. Fingers quick to replace his tongue as he dipped two inside your heat, instantly curling them as he began to pump them inside you furiously. Wet, lewd squelches filling the air as he latched back onto your clit. Sending you soaring into your climax as your entire body writhed against him.

His name sounding from your lips as you came, bucking against his face as he helped you through your release. His tongue continuing to lather your clit as he pumped his fingers languidly inside your convulsing walls. Your chest heaving as you tried to regain your breath, gentle whispers of his name leaving your lips.

“Is there any better sight than that in all the cosmos?” Awase murmured, smirking as he pulled away from your quivering cunt to gaze upon your body. Your essence glistening against his chin as he raised the back of his hand to wipe it away, showing a sheer display of strength as he rose to his feet with you in his arms. Your knees pressed up towards your chest as he curled his arms beneath them. Caging you between his body and the wall as you felt him pull his pants down, bunching around his knees as he freed his aching cock. The length curling up towards your body as the swollen head oozed a thick glob of pre.

You trembled in his arms as you reached for him, eager to try and ground yourself as you felt the tip of his cock slide between your slick folds. Roughly nudging your clit as he adjusted you in his arms, groaning as he felt your nails dig into his shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful.” Awase murmured with a smile, leaning forward to press his warm lips against your own as you felt his cock slowly push inside you. Your velvety walls greedily trying to suck him in deeper as you began to pulse around him.

The action causing him to grunt as he buried his face in your neck, chest heaving as he bottomed out inside your tight heat. Pausing for a moment to cherish the sensation, the moment where both your bodies were completely one. As though you were the missing piece of the puzzle that meant you’d be together forever, cursing the Gods for giving you to another.

Even though your body belonged to another, your heart belonged to him. In his mind you were his, you would always be his.

“Please, Yosetsu.” You pouted, trying to roll your hips against him as he stilled inside you. His balls pressed snug against your mound as he pressed a lingering kiss to your neck.

“Patience, my love.” He smirked, his hands moving to grasp your ass as he angled your hips against his, slowly dragging his cock from your slick heat inch by inch. “Have I ever left you unsatisfied?”

“No,” You whined, the thick tip of his cock keeping your tight cunt stretched as he watched the way your naked chest heaved as you sucked in a breath.

“So why would I start now?” Awase’s grip tightened on the fat of your ass as he surged his hips forward roughly, sheathing himself back inside your silky depths. The motion knocking the wind from you as you threw your head back in pleasure, eyes rolling as he began a frantic pace.

Skin slapping against skin as the bulging veins along his cock caught against the spongy spot inside you with each thrust. His pubic hair catching against your clit with each forward motion, adding to your stimulation as you felt your legs go numb. Thankful Awase had a strong grip against your frame as he continued to fuck into your tight body, his name spilling from your lips as you cried out for him.

This was nothing like intimacy with Bakugou, sex with him was always so rough, frantic and domineering. Much like he was in war, it was true your husband was a dominating force in all aspects of his life. You were never certain of whether you were his lover, his wife or just another prize he claimed as though you were one of his spoils from battle.

“I could swear the Gods made you just for me.” Awase rasped, feeling the way your walls seemed to stretch around him perfectly.

A light sheen of sweat made your bodies stick together as he continued his pace, the soft sound of your moans mixed with the lewd sound of skin against skin the only sounds echoing through Awase’s workroom. Each pump of his hips guided you closer towards your climax. Feeling the telltale signs of it as your inner walls clenched around his cock, the motion making him grunt as he tried to hold on. Wanting to feel you cum around him before he reached his own bliss.

“Come on, beautiful. I know you’re fucking close.” He growled, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he pushed your legs tighter against your body. Trying to change the angle of his thrusts so his thick cockhead caught against the same spongy spot inside you with each forward motion. Creamy rings of your slick circled around the base of his cock, dribbling down onto his balls as he kept his constant pace, desperate to see you fall apart for him.

“Yes,” You cried out for him, your nails leaving dark red lines in their wake as you scratched against his shoulder blades, feeling the familiar sensation building inside of you as you sat on the crux of your orgasm.

“That’s it, cum for me.” Awase grunted, your breasts bouncing from the vigour of his thrusts as he worked you towards your release, “Cum all over my cock.”

Crying out his name as you felt the familiar sensation inside you boil over, your toes curling as you allowed euphoria to take over. The sensation of you clamping down around his cock sent him tumbling into his own end, a slew of curses leaving his parted lips as he felt himself succumb to his own pleasure.

You’d told him no marks, and he’d obeyed but as you became more bold, you became cockier. The risks of being caught had shrunk so small that they now sat at the very back of your mind.

Awase’s lips clamping down onto the junction of your neck as he came, a harsh growl sounding from deep in his chest as he rode out his orgasm. White, hot ropes of cum coating your insides as your walls continued to flutter around him, milking him of his release as his heavy balls lightened from his bliss.

Your legs felt numb as Awase pulled out of you gently, cradling your body as though you were the worlds most delicate china, sitting you on the surface of one of his work benches as he watched the way your thighs quivered in the aftershocks of your release. Trying to regain the sensation in your limbs as you fought the urge to fall onto your back against the hard surface.

“Look at you,” Awase grinned at your glazed eyes, his large palms stroking along your thighs as he looked down at the milky cum that seeped from your abused hole, “Always such a mess for me.”

You were both so caught up in your bliss that neither of you noticed the marks that Awase had left against your neck. Evidence of your infidelity as you corrected your dress, leaving a lingering kiss on his lips as you made to leave. The dread of your reality slowly consumes your happiness as you remember who you truly belonged to.

The Gods had made sure of that the day they had given you to Bakugou Katsuki.

You were both so addicted to each other, so caught up in your infidelity that you’d allowed yourself to become cocky and complacent. Leaving Awase’s workshop with promises that you would see him the next evening, already thinking about being back in his arms as you made to leave.

Awase waited for you in his workshop the following evening, glancing out the window as he watched the sun slowly begin to disappear over the horizon. The moon rising up to replace the warm oranges hues with its silvery glow.

It wasn’t like you to be late.

Wondering if he should venture out to find you, if you may be in trouble. His heart hammering in his chest at the uncertainty of where you were, the fear of not knowing far outweighed anything else.

“Not waiting for someone are you?” Awase froze when he caught sight of the familiar blond in the doorframe. His hulking frame hunched over slightly as he stepped into the workroom.

Bakugou had found out about your affair, the possibility of never seeing you again began to enter his mind. Wondering whether you were okay, if you were hurt. You’d told Awase what might happen if Bakugou ever caught you, neither of you were naïve. You both knew the raging temper the God of Fire had, evidence of which was left in blood on the battlefield. “If he ever finds out, he’ll kill me.” You used to say to Awase, but he never listened. Replying with promises about how he would never let it happen, that he would do anything for you.

But promises were made to be broken.

What had happened when you’d returned to your husband that night? What about your unborn child? He should have never let you go—

Bakugou gave him a cold, callous smirk. Laying his sword flat on the work desk as he stood beside his adversary. Intricate golden lines roped along the blade, contrasting against the cool silver metal as they weaved their way down towards the black handle. It was only then that Awase noticed the scarlet shine of blood against the perfect silver.

You should’ve known that this would happen, you weren’t destined for happiness.

“Even in death she is more beautiful to me than she ever was alive.”

#Awase x reader #Awase smut #Awase yosetsu x reader #Awase yosetsu smut #yosetsu Awase x reader #yosetsu awase smut #Bnha x reader #Bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #tw:cheating #trigger:cheating

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unfoundhoney · 4 years ago

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a sister’s sacrifice ; part two ↠

↠ platonic!c!sleepy bois inc x fem!reader , platonic!c!tubbo x fem!reader ; angst with a minuscule amount of fluff

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ;

↠ @leafyturtle @basheverythingyesterday @terribletoothbat

after all is said and done

after l’manberg is left half-ruined but still breathing

after techno runs off

after tommy and tubbo take seats in the cabinet

after wilbur has been killed by phil

after it all, you leave

you leave l’manberg & the rest of the server & refuse to pick a side

you move to a dark oak forest & build a little cottage for yourself hidden among the trees

you’re tired

you’re so so tired of everything & you just want to be at peace

of course, you could never fully leave everything

you’re still visited by your brothers (those that are left) & your friends

you help niki with her flower shop & various other building projects

you remain out of any political affairs tommy & tubbo are involved in

but you still spend most of your time alone in the woods

you’re content living like this

are you happy with the way your life has turned out?

god no

but you can live with being content

& then ghostbur shows up

(ghostbur) hello! are you the y/n phil keeps talking about?

you wanna talk about trauma?

let’s talk about being approached out of nowhere in the middle of the woods while mushroom hunting by your DEAD BROTHER and a blue sheep on a leash

what the f u c

(you, bewildered) ...will?

(ghostbur) i’m not wilbur. not the one you knew. i’m ghostbur! are you y/n? you look like phil described & i haven’t managed to find any other houses hidden in the dark oak forest.

this is... great

ghostbur becomes quite attached to you

will had distanced himself while living in pogtopia as his mental state deteriorated

it seems ghostbur is fulfilling the closeness alivebur wishes to have had maintained with you

.......

cool

this is fine

it’s totally fine

ghostbur visits you often

even though you know it’s not really your wilbur, it’s nice in some odd way to have a version of wilbur still around

it’s through ghostbur that you learn of tommy’s exile, long after it had happened

it seems no one wanted a protective mama bear y/n sent after them, so during your brief visits to the main residential areas, talk of tommy’s exile was conventiently never a conversation piece

you just figured he was busy or distracted or avoiding you like a moody teen

then ghostbur hands you a small letter one day

(you) what’s this?

(ghostbur) it’s an invitation to tommy’s beach party. he’s been quite lonely in exile

(you) quite lonely in what now

ghostbur fills you in as best as his little ghost brain can on what’s happened with tommy & burning down geroge’s house & tubbo exiling him

what do you mEAN TUBBO EXILED TOMMY????

WTFFFFF??????!!!

CAN YOU GET A BREAK????!!!?!?!?

WHAT ARE THESE IDIOT CHILDREN DOING

you’re the only person to get an invite

you watch from afar, wary of approaching your youngest brother with dream so close

you wait for dream to leave before going to him

(you) tommy?

(tommy) ...y/n!

you catch him in a hug without hesitation

(tommy) i knew you’d come

(you) tommy, i’m so sorry. i had no idea you’d even been exiled or i would have visited you immediately-... are you okay?

tommy is so....

he’s so.......

worn down

his clothes are torn & dirty, he has bags under his eyes

he’s thinner than he used to be, which is very concerning as he’s always been a bit of a walking stick

he just looks so tired

the usual fire that burns behind his eyes whether in anger or mischief or just happiness is nonexistent

(tommy) what?

(you) are you okay? i’d been worried because i hadn’t seen you around and- god, i’m so sorry. i should’ve looked for you or asked about you but i just assumed and now this and-... tom?

tommy just starts crying

because he thought you’d stopped caring about him too

he thought everyone stopped caring about him

but you’re here & you’re concerned & you’re as caring as usual

he buries his face in your shoulder & just cries his little heart out

you hold him and pet his hair and just let him cry

(you) tommy

(tommy) yeah?

(you) come home with me

(tommy) what?

(you) come home with me. you can live with me for the time being & we’ll get this sorted out, okay?

you’d seen how manipulative dream was being even in the short time you’d watched him & your brother, so it takes some convincing but soon tommy has packed his things & is heading out with you back to your home in the dark oak forest

you spend a while nursing him back to health, both physically & mentally

it’s truly heartbreaking having to recondition him out of the dependent mindset on dream

it also pisses you the fuck off but you focus your energy on tommy, not on revenge

tommy tries many times to convince you to come back

to go back to l’manberg & “plant the seed of rebellion”

which wasn’t even call for an actual rebellion, just that you could go back & raise hell about your littlest brother being exiled & demand he be allowed back

but time & time again you refuse

you are content staying away from everything & remaining out of conflict

tommy is very much not

so you lead him to techno’s new home

(you) don’t cause too much trouble for him

(tommy) he blew up l’manberg!

(you) wilbur blew up l’manberg. techno just tried to kill the government

you leave him there & head back home

do you get a moderately angry visit a few days later from techno, who eventually agrees to helping tommy upon your asking?

possibly

you’re not present when tommy & techno sneak onto the smp

you’re not there when tommy & tubbo fight

or during the doomsday war when techno, phil, & dream lay waste to l’manberg once and for all

you’re aware, yes

you’re around, you’re in the know

you just remain out of conflict & out of sight

you’re also not there to say goodbye to tommy & tubbo as they head off for their final battle with dream

that little tidbit you weren’t caught up on, too busy wallowing in your own self misery & crying over your broken family

but ghostbur comes to visit that day

(ghostbur) hello, y/n!

(you) hello, ghostbur. it’s nice to see you

(ghostbur) you, as well! would you like some blue

(you) no. thank you.

(ghostbur) i sure do hope tommy & tubbo come back alright

(you) come back from what?

you were expecting “a trip to the nether,” “a journey to a new woodland mansion,” “a search for sunken ships”

instead, you get:

(ghostbur) their final battle with dream. they set off not too long ago

(you) ........if you’ll excuse me

you head off immediately, tracking tommy & tubbo despite all odds

you do not care, those are your brothers & they are not dying on your watch to dream of all people

they may have been told it’s a battle

they may think they have a chance

but this is dream we’re talking about

you know a trap when you see one

you climb up the mountainside as stealthily as possible

you arrive just in time to hear tubbo’s screams as he is cornered and killed by dream, losing his second canon life

tommy seems to be beat into submission as dream threatens to kill tubbo a final time, who respawns defenseless without any of his items

dreams leads them down into the mountain, villain monologuing the whole way

dramatic bitch

you jump down after them, tired of hearing him threaten your brothers

(you) i think you’ve said enough, dream

(dream) there you are. i was beginning to wonder when mama bear would show up

you put yourself between dream and your brothers

(you) you won’t hurt them anymore. i’m taking them & we’re leaving

(dream) i don’t think that’s up to you, y/n

(you) we’ll see

you take the first swing at dream, landing a clean hack at his shoulder with your axe

but again

this is dream we’re talking about

you’ve never been the most talented fighter & dream is second only to technoblade

i.e. you never stood a chance

but all reason went out the window when it comes to saving your brothers

soon you’re backed against a wall, dream’s axe at your throat

(dream) well this was a waste of time

(you) you’re a monster

(dream) thanks

(you) you think distancing yourself from everyone & everything will work? trust me, it doesn’t. it doesn’t matter how far away you move or how much you push those you love away, those feelings will always be there

dream considers you for a moment

you hope he at least has no satisfaction as you stare back in defiance

you’re unafraid; coming down here was a death sentence & yet you still jumped in headfirst

(dream) maybe for someone like you. but i’m not like you. i don’t care about anything or anyone on this server. i’m not burdened by attachment & i will never be again.

(you) i pity you, dream

(dream) pity me in hell

dreams draws his arm back & swings his axe down

you will lose your final canon life to dream, for your brothers

it’s always for your brothers

as much as you think you should hate them, hate everyone for everything that has happened to you

you can’t

they’re your family

you’ll love them infinitely

tubbo gasps in shock & tommy gives a yell of protest

you know they love you, too

you close your eyes

dream’s axe meets your neck

and you’re gone

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raindownforme · 3 years ago

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omg omg ok ok so maybe for a request charlie and the reader and how they interact as streamers?? like a friends to lovers au but you can tell how they fall in love through all their interactions online & in games (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

like for example whenever they play on the smp charlie only reaaallly wants to help the reader and when anyone else asks he’s like hm? what? IT JUST SEEMED CUTE IN MY HEAD ☹️💌

Lore

Charlie slimecicle x reader [they/them used]

“Hello twitchers.” y/n smiled into the face cam, watching the chat fly by a mile a minute. They knew they’d draw in a larger audience today, it being their first official stream on the Dream SMP. They loaded up the game, spawning in a wooded area surrounded by cobblestone. “Alright where do we- hello?”

y/n leaned closer to the screen. They could see someone standing behind a tree. Someone in glasses and green blotchy skin. They typed into the in-game chat, trying to get who ever it was to come closer. Thankfully they did, revealing a character named Slimecicle. y/n looked over to the discord server, pulling themselves into a voice channel with the mystery person.

“Hi there!” Slimecicle’s voice rang through y/n’s headphones and they smiled. They liked the sound of his voice. “Im Charlie. Welcome.”

“Thanks. Do you know how to get anywhere?”

“Yeah!” Charlie’s character jumped as y/n followed after him. Charlie led them to a snowy mountainside that had been covered with sand. Someone had built a white mansion and several other buildings, including a fountain and a tall tower. “This is where I live.”

“This mansion?” y/n panned to look around the mountainside. They glanced over to watch their chat fly by.

“No I just live in the country in general. Las Nevadas!” Charlie jumped up and down, punching y/n in a friendly manner. “Oh are you hungry? I have food!”

Charlie’s character threw a stack of lamb chops at y/n. They smiled at him, then quickly realized he couldn’t see them. “Thanks! Where is this by the way.”

“Only the best country ever. It’s Las Nevadas! Do you want to live here?”

“Sure!” y/n followed as Charlie ran around. He showed them all around the country; the casino, the strip club, the restaurant, and even the garden. “Charlie this is so cool!”

“I know!” Charlie jumped up and down in a circle. “I’m not the guy who owns it but I’m sure he’d like to meet you.”

“Oh.” y/n paused, biting their cheek. “Will he be okay with me being here?”

“Of course he will. It’s Quackity! Let’s find you somewhere to live.” y/n followed Charlie to the tall white tower. He led them behind it to a flat plot of sand. “Here! We’ll be neighbors.”

“Awesome. I don’t have anything to build with yet but-“

“Oh here!” Charlie ran into the base of the tower, coming back 30 seconds later. He threw two stacks of oak logs to y/n. “Is this what you needed?”

“I- yeah. That’s a lot of wood.”

“I want you to have it!”

y/n smiled bashfully, trying to swallow the heat rising to their cheeks. They could see their twitch chat running by with messages asking if it was lore or cannon. “Here. Take this then.”

Charlie marveled at the flower y/n had tossed him, a blue cornflower. He smiled, holding a hand over his mouth to hide from the prying eyes of his own twitch chat. “Thank you.”

y/n began running around the plot, randomly placing oak planks to make a frame for their house. They tossed Charlie some planks, allowing him to help build up the home. They continued beholding for another half an hour, allowing y/n to have a gorgeous one story home with room for storage and supplies.

“Thanks for all your help today.”

“Of course! Do I get to see you again?”

y/n smiled, glancing over at discord to make sure they’d requested to be friends with Charlie. “Of course! I’ll see you around the server?”

y/n and Charlie saw each other quite often around the server. y/n logged on, Charlie was there. They’d spend hours in the game mining together, building structures, hunting. It went on months of them interacting in streams and lore exclusively.

“You can’t do this Quackity.” y/n spoke slowly. They’d been practicing the recording for this lore for weeks now, and thank god it wasn’t live. “I trust you, and I’m glad we’re friends, but this? Burning it all? What will that do for you. What will any of this do for you?”

“I know you haven’t been here as long, but this is my fucking country. It’s my fucking war. Who the hell are you to think you have any understanding of this? And ideas?”

“Because this isn’t how it works. This isn’t going to work. How many times have you tried this and it just hasn’t happened or you? I don’t know, maybe think about Schlatt? Or Technoblade?”

Quackity froze, being eerily silent. y/n glanced over at the script, making sure nothing was missed. “How do you know about that? Who told you about that?” Quackity’s character ran forward with a diamond sword in hand. “That is none of your business.”

“It’s none of your business how I know.” y/n backed away from Quackity as he walked closer. “I may not have been here long but I have friends.”

“What friends you have-“ he paused, realization setting in. “You have Slime. My friend.”

Quackity came at y/n swinging, they tried to fight back, blocking with a shield and iron sword. “Quackity enough! This isn’t what you want! Quackity please-“

y/n stopped, holding a breath and muting their mic. Quackity had landed the final blow, taking their first cannon life. They moved slightly away from their set up, making sure to not touch any keys. They knew Quackity was still recording, and Charlie’s part was coming soon.

Quackity panted. Taking a shaky breath. “Fuck. Okay. God I can’t believe-“ y/n waited expectantly. Quackity’s pause meant that he saw Charlie. “Oh. Hey bud.”

“Quackity from Las Nevadas.” Charlie almost sounded like he was crying. “What did you do?”

“Slime, you don’t understand, they knew more than they should-“

“So you killed them?” Quackity was quiet. y/n silently cheered to themselves, proud of both Charlie and Quackity’s acting. “You- you took my friend. You took my friend away and- are they coming back? Is y/n coming back?”

“Slime, I took one life. It doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. They didn’t care about Las Nevadas, not like we do.” y/n could hear Quackity’s character moving from his audio in the discord call. “It’s you and me Slime, my best friend.”

“No.”

“No?” y/n looked over the shared script, searching for what part was happening. They hadn’t read this far ahead. “What do you mean no?”

“I cared about y/n. They were my friend. This is not how you treat a friend.”

“And how would you know?”

“Because I know Quackity. I know.”

Charlie and Quackity came to a halt, waiting a moment before speaking again. “That was great!” y/n exited the Minecraft world, turning their full attention to the discord call. Quackity had his camera on, smiling, but Charlie still kept his camera off. “Was there anything else to record today?”

“No that’s it.” There was some clicking from Quackity’s end. “Thanks again. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah, later.”

Quackity exited the discord call, leaving Charlie and y/n in silence. Charlie cleared his throat, turning on his camera. His room was lit by just the lights behind his set up, casting his shadow over the shelves of stuffed toys and collectibles behind him. “Hey.”

“Hey!” y/n felt their face grow warm slightly. “I didn’t realize there was that much more to the script.”

“Yeah.”

y/n chewed the inside of their cheek. It almost sounded like Charlie was disappointed. “Are you okay? You sound upset.”

“I just-“ Charlie paused, resting his chin on his propped-up hands. “What do we do now? I don’t want to stop playing minecraft with you.”

“Charlie we don’t have to stop. Just because the lore goes one way doesn’t mean that we can’t interact.”

“But continuity-“

“You’re thinking like DnD.” y/n smiled gently at him. “If you still want to play together we can, it’ll just be like a secret. Or we can do our own lore. I’m sure if we talk to everyone about it me and you can write something.” Charlie didn’t say anything, and they frowned. “Is there something else?”

“I kind wish they didn’t kill you so early. I’ve still got my lives.”

“Maybe Quackity will kill you next.”

“That’s not-“ Charlie huffed, running a hand through his hair. “I like the character dynamic. I like us interacting. I like us.”

y/n paused, their face burning. They’d be lying if they said they hadn’t thought about the dynamic between themself and Charlie. The clips of them talking on late night streams. The fan-art all over Twitter. The edits recommended to them on Instagram. Hell, they thought about it even without seeing any prompted content. Charlie was on their mind most of the day. They’d constantly find themselves checking twitch to see if he was live or discord to see if he was active. Charlie had become a constant in y/n’s life and they indulged themself in it. “I like the dynamic too.”

“Well we don’t have that dynamic if you stop being part of Las Nevadas. There isn’t us.”

“Charlie, what are you talking about?”

“I’ve been— fucking— I’ve been using this stupid server to get closer to you. I thought that maybe you liked us the way that I liked us and I- I don’t know what I’m doing now.” Charlie rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I just didn’t want you to go.”

“Charlie I’m not going anywhere. I like us too.”

“You do?” Charlie perked up a bit, seeming more enthusiastic.

“Just cause we write lore doesn’t mean it affects us. Here, watch this.” y/n went onto the shared script, hoping Charlie still had it open, and began to type. They wrote about how y/n would possibly live alone in the woods on the outskirts of Las Nevadas, staying close to Charlie.

They could see Charlie smile on the other end of the call, then emit the sound of keys tapping. y/n watched as the words appeared on the page: Charlie tells y/n how he feels.

y/n gasped and turned back to the discord call. “I wanted to tell you soon. I guess I didn’t realize how upset the recording would make me.”

“Charlie, how long have you had a crush on me?”

“Uh, remember your first day?” y/n nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Probably about there.”

y/n turned back to the shared document, typing furiously. “It’s a good thing I like you too.”

Charlie smiled widely at the words; y/n returns his affection. He smiled at the discord call, resting his face in his hands. “Well then, what’s next for our lore darling?”

y/n chuckled, going back to open minecraft. “Help me make a new house.”

“Only if my bed can be next to yours.”

“Deal.”

They could hear Charlie tapping on his keyboard as he loaded in the game. “I know we haven’t met in person, but I’m serious. I like you.”

“And I’m serious. I like you too.” y/n looked at Charlie’s character on their screen. “It does kind of suck we’ve never met but that doesn’t mean-“

“I bought a ticket.”

“W-what? What kind of ticket?”

“A plane ticket. For next week. I mean if that’s okay. I can still cancel it.”

“No! I mean yes. I’d be delighted to have you come over Charlie.” y/n felt their smile soften.

“Can I still have a bed then?”

“Yes!” y/n laughed, going back to the game. They placed two beds side-by-side in the open air. “How’s this?”

“Better.” Charlie’s character went to stand on one of the beds. “Maybe we can write something different- oh.”

y/n looked at the document. Quackity had left them a comment on their new writing, telling them to flirt elsewhere. “Well, I guess he had a point.”

“Back to the game then darling?”

y/n smiled bashfully at the nickname. “Back to the game.”

#charlie slimecicle my beloved #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle #slimecicle x reader #dsmp fanfic #dsmp x reader #dsmp #lunch club #lunch club x reader #chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy

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lazarettta · 4 years ago

Text

Misthios II

Characters (Mother Miranda, Reader, Lady Alcina)

Word count (3.1k)

Rating (M)

Warning (little NSFW, language)

Did you really think that Miranda was going to let you leave so easily? Again?

Anything italicized is a flashback...this is part two to Misthios

Your time with the Vikings was fun but all good things had to come to an end. Over the years, you hadn't been too keen on letting too many people in on your secret. Your friends and makeshift family were getting older and you weren't. You were still fit for battle and as young and strong as you were twelve years ago. You knew that you'd overstayed your welcome but you weren't ready to leave until there were too many comments about you not aging a day. It had taken you a week to get your steed ready for long travel and to make sure that you had everything necessary, including the coin to purchase more supplies should you need it.

You weren't above doing odd jobs during your travels if needed. The viking children ran alongside you and your stallion as you both trotted out of the village until you were on an open road. You saluted them before taking off into a run following the lead of your war horse, allowing her to dictate your travels until she decided that she needed a break.

You had all of the time and opportunity in the land.

You traveled like that for a few days until you were coming upon a village but the path was winding and would take some time but you had plenty of daylight and were in no rush. Everything was peaceful until you came across an overturned wagon and nearly trampled over a body laying face down into the soft ground. The dark puddle around him did not indicate that the man would be rising soon.

You were quick to draw your bow and arrow, a good distance from the fight and you had an advantage in case any of them came for you. There was a black flag on the ground near the wagon but it held an insignia that you didn't recognize but you knew royalty when you saw it. The soldiers had the upper hand but there were a few of them dead as well. On the other side, you saw one of the bandits jump on the back of a horse to leave.

Without much of a thought, you raised your weapon of choice and not a second later, you felt the smooth wood of the arrow slip between your calloused fingers and you watched proudly as it found a home in the base of the man's spine, effectively halting his escape but leaving him alive for the time being but he was not without suffering.

It was at that same moment the last bandit was struck down. The remaining soldiers turned to you with their swords raised but before anything else could happen, a sharp and clear but decidedly feminine voice stopped the misunderstanding before it could happen.

A woman with light-colored long hair stepped from behind a large oak tree with two foot soldiers in tow. She didn't seem to care about the ends of her dress being sullied by the mud and blood on the trail as she made her way towards you. You climbed down from your horse when she was closer, not surprised that you were taller than she was but she wasn't that much shorter than you really.

Most other women you met that were your height or taller were fellow warriors. Her eyes were what really startled you, they were so clear they were almost white. They did not have a clear color to them, not one that you could see.

“You are a very long way from home, Viking.”

“Yes, in search of a new one.” you glanced over her shoulder briefly to the soldiers dealing with the one who tried to escape, his agonized yelling startling a nest of crows nearby.

“You don't seem like the type to miss a killing shot.”

Your gaze fell back to her unwavering one and you fought the urge to fidget under her stare even though you were the one towering over her. Her posture was none threatening and her smile had a teasing tilt to it, but her eyes...they pierced your soul, pinned you. You were unsure if you wanted to run from them or figure out how deep they went.

“I figured your King and Queen would want one alive to question.”

“The King has been dead for a long time now.” The woman tilted her head back slightly as if looking at you in a new light and you straightened your back and pushed your shoulders subconsciously and the corners of her pale lips curled a little more. ��Have dinner with me tonight, viking, as a token of my gratitude. Those bandits have been quite a torn in my side for a very long time now. Thanks to you, maybe now I will find their leader.”

The physical ache you felt when waking up was around your throat, well your whole neck. Your skin had long since healed over but it took the aches and bruises a while longer to go away. You don't know how long you've been unconscious but even without opening your eyes you knew that you were no longer outside on the side of a mountain which meant that she didn't kill you. But she still hurt you. You didn't know if she showed restraint because you both knew that killing you would be pointless and temporary or she truly didn't want to see you harm even if she was upset with you. You knew that it was the former.

Upset being the understatement.

You opened one eye then the other, wherever she put you it was warm if not a little moldy and it was definitely dark, you weren't quite sure if the torch on the other side of your cage helped any. Maybe it wasn't meant for you to use to see but to ensure that you wouldn't go completely insane in total darkness. It made more sense, you wouldn't want your prisoner to look around either lest they find something to use to escape.

You moved so that your back was against the stone wall, mildly surprised to find that it was a little damp. Your neck was still covered in dried blood but you didn't bother trying to scrape it off, knowing from experience that it wasn't the most pleasant feeling and one you chose not to deal with at the moment though you did pick away the random straws of hay from your skin as you'd been laying on it.

If you had to guess then you were in a basement, whether it was hers or not—you couldn't just sit there. Your backpack was long gone, you didn't have to look around your little cage to know that much. You checked for your gun not surprised to find that it was gone...she even took the damn holster.

You checked for your knife on your waist...gone. You checked the one that was hidden in your boots, or was supposed to be but it was gone too. Even after all this time, she knew you all too well. But even without weapons, a small cage like this wouldn't be enough to keep you. You just needed a plan but you had no idea where the hell you were. You reached up to feel your neck where you remembered her nails digging painfully into your flesh...

Gold plated armor, soft leathers and the finest silk that currency could purchase found themselves haphazardly tossed about all over the floor of the room. They reflected nicely against the small flames of the candles around the room.

The room was temporary, a small stop during your travels across the sea—this was merely a supply stop, but with the weather so severe, the waves were slaves to Poseidon's wrath. The ship was safer docked but she wouldn’t spend another night on board if she didn’t have to.

And didn’t, neither of you did. You were her personal champion—you went where she went. She pointed, and you left a path of bloody boot prints. Her wish was your command.

She laid bare before you, it wasn’t a sight that many were blessed with and no matter what sin you’ve committed at this woman’s whim (hell, even your own), you always thanked the Gods for giving you sight.

The fireplace is the only thing lighting up the entire room behind you both, you could feel the heat of it drying up your sweat but not all of it. You were straddling her, knees on either side of her waist—one hand on her waist and the other by her head, fingers interlaced with the hand that wasn’t reaching back clutching you tight, nails digging into your skin but that slight pain only fueled you.

Her light hair was out of its strict confines and complicated royal hairstyle, now splayed across her blemish free back and the pillows.

This was your reward; having her. You did exactly as she asked, you brought her the heads of those who crossed her and bathed in their blood and in the blood of their loved ones. You left no stone unturned simply because it was her wish.

And in return…you got her, however you wanted. But even trapped underneath you—she was never not in command. You placed your other hand next to her head as well, feeling her cool breath ghosting over your fingers turn sharp and unsteady when your hips snapped forward without warning. Her fingers tightening around yours. She tried to push back against you to take back some control but you met her attempt with untamed energy. Miranda's breathy chuckle tapered off into a mix of a growl and a moan when you did it again and again…

Shaking your head, you let it fall back on the hard wall behind you with your eyes closed. You've longed since buried those memories but they were fresh, as if they were made yesterday. The ache in your heart felt fresh too.

Then you felt it. No you felt her. Her presence was so strong, nearly suffocating and that feeling of dread was crawling up your spine again and you suppressed a strong shudder. You reluctantly opened your eyes, knowing that those eyes you fell so hard for would be looking back at you—the same eyes that tore to shreds. Even after all this fucking time...

You exhaled slowly and heavy, content to just stare at your boots, “I didn't expect to find you here of all places...”

“Would you have come if you'd known that I would be here?”

You looked up and saw that her startling bright eyes were staring back at you, still just as clear as the day you first met, “Why am I in this cage and not dead in a ditch? Besides the fucking obvious.”

She didn't say anything to you for a moment, simply standing there staring at you—drinking you in, it made your skin crawl, both good and bad. If she was bothered about you blatantly ignoring her question, it didn't show—or at least that damn mask she was wearing hid it away from you. All those emotions you'd long since buried and thought you dealt with came bubbling back to the surface like bile in the back of your throat but you kept a tight rein on it. Your explosive temper never dulled over time but you got better at containing it.

But no matter how good you were with restraining yourself, Miranda always knew. You could see it in her eyes. You hated her for it.

“I felt you the moment you arrived.” she said instead after long minutes of unblinking silence, she edged closer to your cell, unconcerned with the fact that you could lunge forward at any point and grab her. “I'm relieved to find you're still alive...and in good health?”

“Either kill me and ditch me somewhere, or just let me go, Miranda. I'm not doing this with you.”

“I cannot and will not do either, (Y/n).” she responded coolly after another minute of silence, keeping your gaze now that you've given it to her, “I just got you back, I'm not going to let you leave me so soon. Not again.”

“You didn't really give me a choice the first time!” you snapped back despite what you told yourself earlier about keeping calm and breathing, but seeing Miranda now—even more beautiful than she was before? It was too much at once. “You made that decision for both of us.” you said, much more quieter but she was close enough to have heard you perfectly fine and you were finally able to look away from those burning eyes.

“You're different.”

“The world is different.”

“Time has made you soft.”

You scoffed, “Would you like to borrow some of it? I mean...what the fuck is this? Where am I?” She regarded you calmly as if she was assessing you, but her eyes were roaming too much to be a simple assessment and you just laughed, sharp and unforgiving, you couldn't help yourself, “Do you feel guilty? Did you ever?”

“I don't have time to feel guilty!” she answered a little too quickly and you saw how her shoulders shifted slightly beneath those feathers, always a tell sign of hers that you never failed to notice and honestly you were surprised that you still even remembered her tales. She was so obviously different, you both were but this dance? While off tune and tense, was still your dance.

“Right, I see.” you tried to ignore it, you really did, but a little piece of your heart fell away at her admission because there was still a small part of you that still longed for closure.

“(Y/n)...”

“Do you even remember what you're supposed to even feel guilty for?”

“Stop it! You're not being fair!” she growled at you, pressing closer against the bars—if she pushed anymore she'd probably break the damn things, or materialize right through them but that didn't stop you from scrambling to your feet to meet her head on, refusing to let her have the full advantage.

“Neither were you! I...” you stopped abruptly, literally choking on your words and you forced yourself to close your mouth and Miranda watched every single emotion drain from your face as if you had flipped a switch and her hands balled into even tighter fists at her sides, unsure what to say and you had nothing left to say.

You two stood staring at each other, once again. Eyes locked but not a word more was said. She reached up, one hand wrapping around an old iron bar, her engraved golden nails clinking softly against the metal.

“Mother Miranda.” a firm but sinewy voice echoed around you both, calling for your attention and it was feminine but you couldn't see who it belonged to. She was just out of range of the cell entrance and you'd have to move closer to Miranda to see who it belonged to—and that wasn't something you were interested in doing, “I apologize for the interruption...but we have a problem.”

“What.” Miranda hissed, her voice no longer soft and velvet—the only way you could describe it was deity like. Stronger, harsher and it would've been scarier if you didn't know the woman behind the mask.

“That fool Heisenberg let that man thing escape the forest and he's now roaming in the village.”

“I see.” Miranda's eyes fell to you again, radiating more power than they did earlier. You'd been so busy arguing with her, you hadn't heard the other woman approach and you wondered how much of that she actually overheard, “When you are ready to talk, I will be waiting for you, my little warrior.”

“Stop calling me that!” you spat, glaring at her irritatingly, “I'm not your anything...perhaps your enemy. You'd do better by just letting me leave, Miranda because you and I both know that killing me isn't an option.”

“And I already told you. I'm not letting you leave me, not again.” she was suddenly right in front of you, inside of the iron cage and you had no fucking idea how she did that but she was too close but the stone wall behind you didn't give away, no matter how hard you pressed. Her eyes were softer now, and you actually had to crane your neck a bit to see them, even at an even six feet, “Learn the truth then you decide if you wish to leave or to stay.”

“The truth?” you scoffed, well aware that you two still weren't alone, “The truth has long since past to be of any interest to me.” you lied straight through your teeth all the while looking into her eyes, you saw a speck of emotion but it was hard to tell when they were so alive, “I don't care about your truth anymore, Miranda.”

“You may not...but I do. Did our love mean nothing to you?” you both ignored the startled noise behind you, “All those late nights and early mornings? I think about them often when this life permits me to...I...do have regrets, (Y/n)...and wishes, most never granted.” she admitted, quietly—her deity voice gone for the moment, “One of my biggest regrets and my biggest wish was you, (Y/n).”

You didn't know how to unpack that in this moment because Miranda suddenly had both her hands on the wall, trapping you as she leaned closer—you knew what she was doing, hell she even knew what she was fucking doing? Was it working? Like the fool you were—it was.

“Allow me time to settle this issue and then we will talk, (Y/n).”

You could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and you almost told her to go fuck herself...it was on the tip of your tongue but your heart was still as stupid as it was thousands of years ago. You kept your lips firmly pressed together, but nodded curtly almost reluctantly. She didn't smile, not really, but that familiar curve of her lips made you tense a little. You were a fucking idiot, and you knew it.

“Lady Dimitrescu will house you. I will send for you when I am ready.” she lingered for a second longer, seeming to want to say more. Suddenly she pushed herself away from you and walking out of your cell with ease, pushing the heavy door out of her way leaving you bewildered.

Had it been unlocked this whole time? She hadn't even bothered to retrain you, but she knew you wouldn't make a move because now she had now something to keep you behaved long enough and you agreed to it.

Ayyye Alcinnaaaa! Idk who's playing but Donna's house scary as shit. Y'all fuck with this story?

#resident evil 8 #mother miranda x reader #alcina x reader #mother miranda #lady alcina x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu #dis tew much #assassin's creed odyssey #I'm simpin hard af over here

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chocominnie · 3 years ago

Text

Desperado — 09 (M) | JJK

Pairing: Badboy!Jungkook X Reader

Summary : A messy situationship at it’s finest. You don’t even know whats headed your way, just even engaging in the slightest within him. See, he has an assignment to complete. A mission granted by his father thats do or die. You just so happen to be a major pawn in that assignment. He didn’t mean to take an interest in you. Surely it was an accident right? Only except. you hold much value in this game that he’ll do anything to complete it. Oblivious is what you are. Poor thing. Poor.. Poor thing.

Genre: Mature/ Mafia!Jungkook

Trailer: xxxxx preview 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Word Count : 7.3k

Warnings : This honestly isn’t for the light hearted and the weak…High angst, usage of drugs, drug mentions, mental illness, switch!jungkook, Brat reader, possible stockholm syndrom, kidnapping, assault, death of side characters, murder, weapons, usage of weapons, masturbation, physical violence, blood, alcohol, weed, unprotected and protected sex, spanking, honestly its a lot of aruging…

Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

TW : Suicide, Body Hanging for display.

Her hair moves so flawlessly and the her breasts spill over the mini triangle bra with each sensual move she makes. The way her waist and body whines against the pole could leave absolutely anyone in a trance.The rhythm of the music blasts in the air and she’s directly on beat to it, not missing anything through the song playing.

The led lights are dimmed low enough in a red color, but enough for everyone to see. Shes uncaring at the men in the room sizing her up in her designer high waisted thong that hugs her hips very well, showing off her round, plump ass. That was what she wanted, the attention all on her while they throw hundred dollar bills for her.

“ Who knew someone could get down and dirty like that.”

To no suprise, Jimin, the ladies man but heartbreaker for sure, enters the private room and closing the door beind him. He throws a stack of money towards her, as he was the seemingly late one to the meet-up.

“ Jungkook is late, he’s never late. What’s taking him so long?” A grumpy Namjoon says, looking down at his apple-watch. It’s half past 10 pm and usually he’s the first one here.

“ He’s probably sucking up to yn-”

The girl turns her head sharply towards the boys, overhearing what they said. She furrows her eyebrows at them, “ Why would he be doing that..”

Taehyung lets out a small groan. “ Because Mr. Lover boy has gotten himself a crush. The worst part is, she’s his target for this mission.”

“ Shut the fuck up. I don’t have a crush on her, i’m just doing my job.” A semi-loud voice roars through the doors. Everyone stops to look at the sudden intruder and to relief it’s him, Jungkook.

Of course he has to lie about that. He knew for sure he caught himself up with you and the feelings were strong. Though the big bad mafia boy catching feelings for his target is highly uncommon, and Jungkook doesn’t know the consequences.

“ Jungkook..” The girl says, frowning at him with her hand on her hips. He takes a seat on the couch and tilts his head at her to go on. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the young boy. “ You fell for her.. so what about us?”

It isn’t hard to say that he doesn’t have any more feelings left for the girl. She and him both knew what they agreed upon. The pair had history together, sexual to be exact. Romance was hardly there if he were to be honest. She’d began actually working for Won-Shik, under this club they’re in now which is owned by him, a year ago. Jungkook had entered the club once when he was considered a minor, but that was to pass a message along to the girl from his father. He was told to go straight in and straight out. Of course, he did the exact opposite. Sat around looking at all the half naked women that night as the music blared loud.

It wasn’t until his phone rang and it was Casper telling him to hurry up and come back to the car, is when he finally decided to get up and look for the girl. When he did find her, it was over with for him. The girl was, and still is, stunning. One of the many foreign girls in the club but she’s the one that stood out of all. She wore nothing but a small outfit as she danced on the pole. Her beauty mesmorized Jungkook that night as he watched her dance in awe. Soon enough she came to him showing her her dimply smile and perfect teeth.

He was stunned alright. She knew he looked to be too young for the club so she asked him his age. He told her, and thats when she nearly called security on him until he told her who he was and affiliated with. The message was passed along accordingly to her, she got the memo. Jungkook though, kept coming back to that club and always going to where she was, following her around the club like a lost puppy. She enjoyed his time, as all she did was sit and talk with him and that turned out to not be enough for him. He wanted her, and she insisted that he was too young for her.

So Jungkook did what any other person would do when feeling rejected, he started to present himself like a true man and mafia boy. The gym was his favorite place after that and he buffed up very well. That jawline of his got sharper and his personality gained more confidence and dominant by the time he turned nineteen. He of course kept going at her, shooting his shot anytime he could and yet kept getting denied. It wasn’t until his nineteenth birthday is when he begged her telling her how bad he wanted her, and that lap dance he kept suggesting months before. Since it was his birthday and he was legal, she gave him what he wanted but that still wasn’t enough for him. He wanted her underneath him bad. The slight age gap between them didn’t phase Jungkook at all. What he wants, is what he gets.

And he did.

And kept getting it, and getting it, and getting it since then.

“ Relax baby, I’ll still be coming around you know that.” His voice is smooth, smirking at her. He wasn’t going to be coming around as much, but he knew that would disappoint her.

She purses her lips and begins walking towards him and sits directly on his lap, straddling him. Jungkook can’t push her off the way he wants to because it would confirm the crush rumors from the boys about you. So he lets her sit there, uncomfortable as hell for him.

Namjoon clears his throat to get the rest of the group attention. It’s nearly 11 pm and Crystal has been blowing up his phone ever since he stepped foot in the club. He told her beforehand about the meeting, but she wanted him at her apartment by at least 1 am.

“ We all know you love yn, but remember who you are Jungkook.” Namjoon says, glaring at the boy who returns the glare back at him. “ Fuck you. Like I said, im just doing my job.”

“ If you were doing your job Jungkook, there’s no way in the hell that it should take you this long. “ Jin retaliates. He knows hes right.

By this time, Jimin had finished preparing seven perfectly rolled blunts filled with the most finest imported weed. He places them onto the tray, taking his own and then passing the tray to Yoongi. Each of the boys take their own until it reaches down to Jungkook who takes his and puts the tray back onto the table.

“ Enough about her. I was summoned to go over the details for the next seven days. “ Jungkook groans, sparking his blunt and inhaling. He passes it Melanie, who takes it to inhale as well.

A malicious smile comes upon Yoongi’s face as he exhales the smoke into the already fogged up air. One thing he loves to talk about is torture. One of bangtan’s best walking torture device to be known.

“ Tonight we are starting.. I say you let me go first.” Yoongi pauses, taking a long inhale of his blunt. “ I’m coming for their trade transaction place. Arson, let me burn the bitch down and then fuck around with their father.”

It’s a good idea. Sending a message after burning it down straight to it’s opponent. Fire is Yoongi’s thing, and that’s his signature marking in the Bangtan Boys. The father of the shooter was one of their dealers, until the shooter’s father fucked up by taking money out of bangtan’s cut little by little. The boys knew about it, they waited for the perfect time back then to take action. Of course, giving them a mission to complete.. or so he thought. The mission was a false one. Created by Jungkook to catch him off guard. Jungkook used some of the mafia men on Won-Shik’s side to set up a trade off of drugs, decieving the shooter’s father by thinking they were just setting up a regular mafia trade from another gang. The trade was complete, but their protection was no more. Needless to say, the men didn’t even make it back to their cars. It was a bloodshed war between Jungkook’s assigned men and their men. The point was to send a memo that the Bangtan Boys were coming for them, and coming hard.

Everynight for two weeks unimaginable signs were sent to their family. Ranging all the way from several gunshot bullets going through their home, to severed heads of previous betrayers of the bangtan boys, sitting right on their porch. By now, all the other gangs in Korea knew not to have any business with them.

“ Day 2 I want it. I’m going for the mother. That scamming bitch and her precious flower shop? I’m shooting it up. Whoever lives, lives. Whoever dies, dies.” Jimin shrugs, smirking as he leans back in his spot.

“ Day 3, for me I’m sending another message. One of their men is gonna die in my god damn hands. I’ll be sure to take a selfie and send it to the father. The body will lay hanging on that pretty little oak tree in their yard.” Taehyung says. The boys are roar with shock that he’s said that. Normally he doesn’t like touching a dead body, so it’s a change for him.

The boys continue listing off the days and assigned tasks for the rest of the night into the wee early morning. Namjoon left after his, of course going straight to his girls apartment. They don’t judge him, seeing as though the boy really is in love and knows when and how to handle it. He definately doesn’t mix business and his love life together, unlike his other hyung. Soon enough the banter and socializing ends and it’s time for Yoongi first.

Night 1

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to find the place. The empty steets of Seoul have soon faded into just dirt roads with the city left behind. The humming of his porsche echos through the night time air. Yoongi takes one final turn, making sure to pull into the place slowly like a true hunter keeping it’s eye on its prey. It’s not a full house tonight, even better.

Taking the jug of gasoline out his car, he carries it with ease up to the empty warehouse. The wildlife outside don’t make a noise. As if they know who’s approaching and just shut right up. Forty degrees fahrenheit outside and lastnight’s snowfall piled all around.The darkness outside is haunting, anything could pop out at any second to kill the man. That doesn’t scare him at all. Darkness is always what he crave. Inside and out.

“ Sir.. do you want us to go in with you?”

Yoongi stops dead in his tracks. He’d almost forgotten about the back-up men Jungkook ordered for him. It’s not like he needed them anyways, but since Jungkook can’t be there with Yoongi, that was the next best choice.

Rolling his eyes without turning around,“ No. Wait in your cars. I’ll handle it on my own.”

Just like that. The boys are off like lightening. Yoongi takes one final step towards the two double doors, and begins to pour the gasoline at it’s starting point. Usually, he’d go from the inside out, but seeing as though he wanted them to scurry out fearing for their lives, this is the next option as well. Soon enough, the enire jug is empty and he’s now poured all of it around the outside of the warehouse. Leaves crunch with every step he makes back to the starting point. Part of him hopes they can’t hear him from the outside. It’ll ruin the plans.

The lighter in his pocket feels so smoothe against his palms as he reaches for it. It’s one of his signature ones with his initials on it. An andrenaline rush runs through his veins as flicks the ignition with his thumb. The flame all bright and orange as he stands there infront of the building. It’s going to be a damn good night.

Without hesitating, Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair and throws the lighter right onto the gasoline puddles. The way the whole ring of fire lights up infront of his eyes makes him laugh hysterically while watching the whole building go into flames. The loud crackling sounds of the now decomposing warehouse jumps him back into reality.

He heads right towards the big tree next to the right of the warehouse, leaning on it with one foot up against it with his hands crossed. That sinister smile doesn’t leave his face. He enjoys the view of the men from the inside running out as fast as they can. Some falling in the ring of fire in the process. The fire is no match for any human as they try to stop drop and roll. Ha, as if that would work with a 15 foot fire consuming the warehouse. The dead bodies pile up on their own, just burning in the fire over their simple mistakes of falling and thinking they would survive the fire.

Until the golden egg comes out. He’s furious as runs out perfectly, as if he’s been through this, without managing to catch on fire. Yoongi chuckles, leaning off the tree. “ Kang Dong-Woo.”

Usually Yoongi would use the honorfics to people who were much older than him. In this case though, he doesn’t deserve honorifics.

“ Min Yoongi.” He says, harshness laced within his voice. Dongwoo frowns when nearing the man. He knows what Yoongi is capable of, and that’s what sets his fight for flight into action.

“ Let’s get straight to it. Your daughter is after our leader. She seems to be doing the dirty work for you yeah? Did you not train her enough? Of course you know she wont be able to live after this right?”

Dongwoo laughs right into Yoongi’s face as if he was joking. It angers Yoongi, so he grabs Dongwoo by the shirt and drags the man over to the fire where he kicks the back of his legs to where he’s kneeling inches away from it.

“ I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Dongwoo.” He growls, tightening his grip around Dongwoo’s arms that are behind his back. “ You want to die?”

“ She’s gonna fuck you all over.” He growls.” You may think she’s not capable of finishing off you guys one by one, but she is. I raised and trained her since a kid. She’s stronger with more energy than me. She’ll kill you all when you least expect it.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at him.” The dumb bitch can’t even shoot right. Going for someone else knowing Jungkook would save them is an ameteur move. Should’ve went straight for his damn head.”

“ I’ll make sure she’ll bring you guys hell Min Yoongi. All of you. Tell that shit to Jungkook and his daddy for me alright?” He mocks, laughing again at the boy to taunt him.

Yoongi doesn’t care for it. He’s had enough of this foolish talk. With one swift move he kicks the man’s back making him fall down to the left side, away from the fire. He’s lost it. He’s totally lost it at this point and there is no going back. Kick after kick after kick, he doesn’t stop. No. Not until the Dongwoo is sure to cough up blood. The crimson liquid poors from his mouth as he lays there. No remorse is felt.

Besides, the bastard bitch needed to get the message. Consider it message recieved.

Night 2

The flower shop is full, but not full to its entirety. There's tons of different bouquets and arrangements set around the pretty shop, from what he can see from the outside. It’s almost closing time, an hour left. Jimin’s fingertips grip on the steering wheel, anxious but patient to make his move. He’s running off of pure adrenaline and 2 cans of monster that are crushed and sitting in the passenger seat. Waiting isn’t his forte and he’d honestly like to get this show on the road now.

The moon is out and shining bright tonight. A sigh escapes his lips when he glances again at the shop. The only reason he’s not done it yet is due to the fact that there is a child and his mother inside. Rule number 2 of Bangtan, injure no child. The price to pay if you were to break the rule? Simply it would cost you your own damn life.

As if time would of went any slower for the boy, the child and his mother finally made their transaction and made it out of the store, heading across the street to continue their journey of shopping. It’s go time.

He knew to come prepared with his bulletproof vest and full face ski mask, long Sleeve black shirt to cover all the markings he has and also the two tattoos on each of his arms. He knew that the little lady wouldn’t be so dumb to not carry, or at-least have someone inside that would be her undercover security. Considering who her husband is, there’s no way she won’t be protected.

Oh how innocent the people look to not know what’s coming next. Jimin loads his Glock 19 with golden bullets that have Bangtan Boys initials and symbols on it just before pulling his mask down and getting out the car. He makes sure to signal his back-up men to create a distraction so he could make his entrance. Sure enough, a loud boom in the near distance of what sounds like some type of construction falling, echos loudly. It turns heads from all around to look where the sound came from, making it easy for Jimin to slide into the flower-shop.

Not a sound made by him. He draws his gun and pulls the safety off the trigger, then cocks it. Eyes are all on him as his eyes shift around the room looking for his target. There she is, eyes wide in the middle of a transaction for two middle aged couple. His eyes set into hers, lowly smiling and pointing it at her. The way everyone frantically screams and cries out doesn’t phase Jimin, no. It just encourages him even more as he starts firing shots mid air, shooting any and every person in sight for the hell of it. Bodies drop to the ground, and the bloodbath begins.

Jimin doesn’t hesitate to step over everybody, eyes still set on his target. The middle aged couple’s shrieks were cut short by their bodies dropping to the ground with three shots each to their hearts.

“ Park J-” He cuts her crying off with a finger to his lips, daring her to say his name in public. She gets the memo. “ I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The barrel is pressed against her temple as she trembles with fear. He cocks his head to the side, smiling at her when he taps the gun against her head harshly, repeatedly. “ You know why I’m here.”

“ You kill me and she will murder you all.”

Jimin chuckles, “ That’s what you guys think. We don’t have time for your gimmicks. It was you guys who stole money from us. Why did you think you’d still be protected from the law from us? Getting your daughter to go for the leader first is dumb, like the rest of you.”

“ We almost went to prison for you guys, remember that? We needed that cut money from you guys to pay off our legal fees. Thats why we stole. We completed your dirty work while trying to pay off the fees, its the least you guys could of did as a reward.”

“ That’s not how it would’ve worked. You fucked up. All of you.”

With two shots to the leg, she falls into Jimins arms. He rolls his eyes and throws his body off of him and onto the floor. It’s going to be a headache trying to explain to the dry cleaners why there is blood stains on his designer ripped jeans.

Night 3

It was too easy, way too easy. It took nothing to lure that man right into Taehyung’s trap. Nothing but a simple few slick comments made to him for him to get a riled up at the wrong person. Taehyung had spotted the man prior heading into the park with a small duffle bag. He assumed it was for a night trade off for some other person who had delivered drugs for him. Nontheless, it was merely too easy to pose as the alleged person who completed the mission.

A rookie. That guy must’ve been a rookie.

When the money was handed off to Taehyung, he tossed it to the side and struck the man down. The two did fight on the concrete floor for a bit but the man was no match for Taehyung’s quick moves. Taehyung’s pocket knife dances around the man’s throat as his body is pinned to the ground.

“ Rookie mistake not verifying if I’m the real one.” He chuckles, pressing the blade against the mans neck. The man pleads for his life but it’s no use. Message must be sent, that it’s no way you’ll fuck around with Bangtan and escape.

“ You know, I would’ve trained you more than Dongwoo. Letting the weakest link go run an errand? Ha. Your boss set you up for that one.”

Although the man is merely innocent, it doesn’t stop Taehyung from slicing into the man’s neck. A blood curdling scream comes out, but soon hushed over as his will of breathing and screaming is cut. It’s music to Tae’s ears.

The body is transfered per request of Taehyung to his back-up men. It’s not like him to touch a bloody dead body. So they take him into the back of their car and follow Taehyung to the residential house of the shooter. Nothing more than 10 minutes away.

The lights are cut off in the neighborhood. Not a sound made other than the two cars coming down the street. Everyone seems to be at peace and quiet in their homes. Sleeping to say the least. Upon arrival, Taehyung parks his car right infront of the house. The back-up men drag the bloody body out the car and onto their lawn, placing it right under the oak tree.

Taehyung takes the rope be brought along with him, and begins to tie multiple knots around a sturdy branch from the tree. When done, he wraps some of the rope around the dead boy’s neck, tying it into a slipknot and hoists him up high into the air.

The body dangles from the tree like a flag waving in the sky proud and high. He signals for the boys that the assignment is done and that they’re free to leave. Taehyung though, he just sits back in admiration of his work. It’s been a while sinice he felt this way. So he stands there soaking it all in.

Message recieved.

Since it’s been three entire days of hell, Jungkook knew his day will be approaching faster than ever. If only it could get here faster though. Truth is, Won-Shik isn’t too happy about Jungkook’s plan still not being complete. At this point, the father is going against him any chance he gets to just get this over with.

Luckily, tonight he’d be able to meet with his father again with some good news. It hasn’t been brought to his attention yet about your father being in Taiwan. With the technology of Won-Shik’s men, your father could be brought here within 12 hours tops.

“ Father.” Jungkook says, entering his office doors. The boy fixes his leather jacket upon entering and places his hands back into his pockets. “ I have news.”

Won-Shik is one to not play around with. Interupting his office time is a big, big deal. One is to not enter without it being urgency. That rule still applies to the heir of the company. “ It better be damn good because your plan isn’t getting anywhere Jeon Jungkook.”

Won-Shik takes his glasses off and sets them to the side on his desk. Its full of papers and photos of himself and Jungkook when he was a child. His favorite one right in the middle, where Jungkook had just ate some cherry flavored ice cream and his lips were all red as he smiled for the camera showing his two front teeth. It reminded him of when Jungkook was easier to manage rather as to now where he’s a damn menace.

“ Taiwan. Her father is in Taiwan. I don’t think it’s Taipei though.. he’s hiding so a city wouldn’t be ideal. I say search the mountains first, then the city.”

Bringing this proposal to the table meant that Jungkook wanted to atleast gain his father’s trust back. Hell, he wanted all this to be over with by now because you were driving him crazy to the point where he’s beginning to actually forget who the hell he was and why he was assigned this mission. The plan was not to fall, but to complete. He’d be lying if he wasn’t knee deep in love with you right now. It all comes down to him protecting you from his father at this point.

“ So your little plan is suddenly working huh.. still doesn’t mean she gets to run free Jungkook.” He says, smirking at the boy to challange him. Jungkook knew that. Once it’s proven that your father is the snitch, all of the family dies.

You’re innocent. Too innocent to know that or to be even tangled in that mafia mess of his. Part of him wishes he never met you and never had been assigned this mission. Then everything would be so damn different and emotions wouldn’t be caught up in this. From the moment he met you, he knew it would be hard. You have always held a special part in his heart. Only because you acted just like his mother. Sweet, but sassy and it hurt him a lot on how you remind him of her. You even word your words just like her, even when upset. Everything about you, is just like her.

It was hard to not get attached to wanting to get to know you more. Somehow he thought that if he got to know you, he’d somehow fill that hole inside him of his mother’s disappearance. As if you were going to be his new replica as you would be the one to put a band-aid on that hole to patch it up.

Here you are, not knowing you could die any moment and it will all be thanks to Jeon Jungkook, who couldn’t save you fast enough.

“ I know. But she’s innocent. She doesn’t even know her dad worked with us. I swear she doesn’t.” Jungkook bites his lip in hopes that there could be someway to save you by the hands of your father.

“ I dont care!” He roars, jumping out his seat. Jungkook flinches, backing up a bit from the sudden outburst. “ You know not to mix business and pleasure. You reap what you sew. You get to pay the consequences.”

Jungkook knew that though.

“ Father-”

“ Nothing more. I’ll have my team start the search right now. You on the other hand, get you god-damn shit together Jungkook. You’re the heir, not a damn lover-boy. Got it?”

It is no use of arguing with him. Jungkook looks down at the ground and nods his head yes just before Won-Shik dismisses him. It’s going to hurt. Seeing you dead. He hopes for a miracle can happen, that your father will not be the snitch. That you and him could live happily ever after. There will no be any happily ever after about this situation though. One will die. Just a matter of who it will be.

The vibrating sensation in his pocket snaps him out of his trance. An incoming call from Namjoon. It’s alarming since today is Namjoon’s day of hell, and only one thing could be happening right now if he’s calling for Jungkook.

There’s been a mistake.

“ What is it Namjoon.”

“ She fucking outsmarted me. The bitch caught on to where my location would be for the next kill. I don’t know where the fuck she is Jungkook.. this is bad.”

Jungkook sighs heavily, closing his eyes while letting out strings of curses come from his mouth. Shit couldn’t get possibly worse than this right now. Namjoon said he’d wanted to go straight for the killer and bust her up a bit. Give her some words and a branding on her. He had wanted to do it with a knife, carving the initals of Bangtan Boys into her upper hip. Namjoon had zero problem tracking her next location down, as he had been keeping an eye on her all day. To him, it seemed as if she would be heading to an orchestra shop in the city. Every step she took, Namjoon took it too.

Until she rounded the corner to go inside the shop and she wasn’t there. There wasn’t any outlet. The shop was on a dead end street surrounded by other shops that they both had passed. There was no way she didn’t go back, he would of saw it. He saw her go into the store, so she had to be there right?

Wrong. You see she knew all this time that Namjoon was followering her while in disguise. The orchestra shop where she led him to, she knew the owner. They were good friends. She had spoken to him asking if that she could use his upstairs office to read over some of the newest edition of music pieces for her to practice. He obliged, and she made up there in time before Namjoon came inside.

Up there, she’d be lying if she wasn’t scared to death. All this week the boys had definately given her hell. Each day with zero remorse. It was taking a toll on her for sure. Taking up this assignment by herself wasn’t something easy but she wanted to prove to him that she can be just like him. That she wanted to work with him too to take down Bangtan for decieving them and leaving them in the dust.

She can’t do it. The boys are to expierenced for her. It’s a bad mistake that she cannot come back from. You see, she thought it would be easy to befriend you and become close to you after you’d laid eyes upon Jungkook your first day here. She knew you’d soon fall for him, like any other girl did, and that would be her easy acess to him from you. It was all planned beforehand. To be quiet and observe you and your moves with him. In her mind, Jungkook needed to die first. The boys can’t function all that well without him, so that would be the weak spot to take advantage of if he would’ve died when she knew he’d take the bullet for you. She coudn’t shoot him first, it’d be too straightforward and blunt.

It was going all well. Deep in the inside she was jealous of you as well. Sungmin had been her crush for years, they even almost dated. Until you came along and he left her in the dust for you. Sungmin is everything she wanted in a boy, but you took that away from her. Her chances to date him ruined by you. It hurt everyday to see him head over heels in love with you, when that was just her at one point before you came along. Not only that, but she seen the way you play with Sungmin’s emotions. It made her upset that you do that. Sungmin’s love is a drug, whether it be friendship love or romantic, nobody can get enough of it.

All this stressed her out to her max. Her family being hurt because of her, her mom unable to walk for the next few weeks is all because of her. Only cause she cannot complete this task she brought onto herself. As if being in danger because of Won-Shik and Bangtan wasn’t enough beforehand, she just made things worse all in all. There is no way out of this for her and her family. So it’s time to just accept it and say goodbye to it all and start a new life.

“ I’ll find her. You wait at the base and I’ll report back to you guys after I find her. When I do, you will come and finish your damn task Namjoon. Do you hear me?” Jungkook’s beyond pissed at this point. If it wasn’t for him, the boys would be lost as fuck without him.

He shoots Casper a text, letting him know that he is to follow him closely as he searches for her. To his luck, Casper was already outside his apartment building in his car. Not long after he pops those contacts in and changes his outfit again, he’s cruising the streets of Seoul in his midnight purple lamborghini.

The pain in his shoulder throbs with each turn he has to make with the wheel of his car. A little pain medicine would of helped beforehand, but rushing to get this shit over with was more important. This bitch definately has it coming. It’s been taking Jungkook these past few days to not just up and kill her. No that would just be too easy. Torture and marinating her to lose her shit at the last minute is something so satisfying to him.

The streets of Seoul soon end behind him and the Mappo Bridge comes into view. It had been an a whole hour searching around the areas of where she could’ve been, including where she was last seen. No sights of her at all. She’s good at this for sure. Text messages are sent back and forth between the boys and Jungkook. They’re all on edge, tired, and frustrated at this chasing game that they’re all playing.

He’d almost missed it. The body walking alongside the side-walk of the bridge with their head hanging low and hoodie on. It’s the hoodie of his school, but most importantly it has their class graduation year on it. It has to be her. Jungkook flashes his hazard lights on, letting Casper know to pull over with him.

It’s now or never.

After sending the text to Namjoon, he’s out the car and jogging towards the suspect. Height, body type, and shoes match the alleged identity. It seems she’s too into something to notice the extra footsteps behind her. He can’t do anything to her though, it’s not his night.

“ Kang Minlee.”

She stops dead in her tracks as if a ghost had called her name. Frozen, she stands there contemplating on running or staying. If she runs, she’s dead. If she stays, shes dead.

“ You think..” He pauses, grabbing her arm and turning her around to face him. Her face is red from crying and her glasses all fogged up from underneath her mask. For a split second, Jungkook does feel regret.

Killing a classmate of his wasn’t something he’d ideally let happen. But it’s far too late to not have her killed off. “ You think that running away is the best option?”

Minlee trembles underneath his grip, “ I made a mistake. Please just let me go. Let me and my family go and we’ll leave you alone forever.” She breaks down into tears, placing her hand over his in attempt to let her go.

It didn’t hurt Jungkook to see her like this. All in all it just feels weird to him. Weird to have one of his classmates begging for her life to be spared from the gruesome events to come.

“ You know I can’t do that.” It honestly can’t be an option at this point. It’d be better to just continue out her days of hell with her family. “ You came for me, that means you die.”

Finally she jerks her arm back from his still in tears as she starts to back away slowly. Jungkook knew that she wouldn’t run. Not in this case. Letting her cry it out was the best way, hell it’s the only way because Namjoon would be here any minute to brand her. It would mean she belonged to Bangtan after that, and she’d have to keep quiet as they planned out her death.

Her sudden movement from the ground to climbing up the railing of the bridge alarms Jungkook. She cries louder when Jungkook comes closer to getting her down so he stops. Suicide? Right now? What happened to being all big and bold? It confuses Jungkook as to why she would take her own life right now. Either way she’d still end up dead and unhappy if Bangtan would kill her or she’d kill herself.

“ Jungkook!” She semi-yells, pointing to the direction behind him as another guy approaches them. Just in time, the sound of Namjoon’s car can be heard from afar. He’s getting close.

The guy she’s pointed to is Casper, who’s also alarmed at the fact that she’s close to the edge right now. Jungkook holds his hand up at Casper for him to stop right there and shakes his head, meaning that it’s too risky for Casper to step in right now. Casper nods and Jungkooks turns back to the scene.

“ Don’t you think that I’ve suffered enough? Everyday you guys give me hell. My mom can’t walk because of you guys, and my dad has health issues. You left us in the dust when we needed your support the most! I was almost put up for adoption a year ago because of you!” She sobs, wiping her never ending tears with her hoodie sleeves.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, or do. It’s not like him to have sympathy over a rival. It’s just not in him at this very moment.

Minlee continues on, “ Yn? She took what’s mine. My Sungmin. She plays with his heart and it hurts him a lot. I wouldn’t have did that. But no, he’s head over heels in love with him. I got left in the dust when she came along and it looks like everyone loves her, including you Jungkook. My friendgroup does anything and everything she wants because she’s just oh so little miss perfect. That was supposed to be me!”

There it is. The jealousy. Jungkook would have never known it. It’s all news and shock to him. Sungmin and Minlee? Didn’t seem like a match to begin with.

Her dramatic meltdown continues on, but Jungkook allows it. Namjoon will be here any minute to sneakily get her down. Where is he and why the hell is he taking so long?

As if on cue, Namjoon pulls up to the scene and immediately gets out his car running towards the girl. Jungkook waves his hands for him to stop, eyes wide with a finger to his lips. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to jump. A death from their school? Surely was to be put on him and his boys.

Namjoon stops infront of Jungkook’s car, confused as to what’s going on. Jungkook mouthes to him the words suicide attempt. That’s when Namjoon gets it and decides to let him handle getting her down.

“ Yeah it was meant to be you. But I plan to take Yn away anyways. Then you and Sungmin could come together again.” Jungkook’s convincing isn’t convincing enough, she doesn’t buy it at all.

“ If I get down I’m going to die. There is no escaping that within the next few days i’d be dead in your hands. I made a mistake and there is no going back. Spare my parents. Let them live. I’m the one that started this. I’ll be the one to finish it.”

The girl lifts one foot off the railing and leans backwards. Jungkook’s breath hitches along with Namjoons. No. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“ Kang Minlee!” They both scream, running towards her. It’s too late though. Her body falls gracefully down as all three of them watch over the railing. She looks peaceful, a smile on her face while her body is sprawled out in the air.

Inches before she hits the water, the three of the boys look away with only the sound of dense water splashing to fill their ears. Namjoon sighs, putting his hands against his head. Jungkook stands there in complete shock. Casper, well Casper just shakes his head knowing the two boys weren’t prepared for that.

“ We fucked up Jungkook.”

“ I fucking know that Namjoon.” His voice cracks. It isn’t like Jungkook to cry. No not at all. Especially for a target like that. At the end of the day she was human and she did what any daughter would do for her family.

She was also your friend.

You hadn’t heard about her death yet the next day. It’s a normal saturday morning for you. This time you’d decided to go to the cafe with your laptop and write your essay for your Psychology class. The cafe is nice, it’s cat themed and has some pretty kittens running around the outside of the kitchen and customer service area.

As soon as you order and sit down with your Caramel frappe you spot a white kitten laying near you on the floor. A smile comes upon your face when it comes to you when you call for it. They don’t have these in Canada. Cat Cafes. The kitten lets out his purrs when you rub his back as he lays across your lap. The nametag says Mochi, a cute name for a cute kitten.

Minutes seem to pass by without your knowledge. You’d been too into typing to hear the news on the tv being broadcasted live. It wasn’t until you heard suicide of a teenage student on Mappo Bridge. That got your attention.

You listen carefully as the news reporter goes into detail of how the body was found. It had gotten caught on a rock as the stream moved it around. A mother had found it with her kid as they walked across the bridge that early morning to look at beautiful water. It saddens you to know someone took their life. Maybe if that person had access to getting help, they’d live to see many more days.

When they announce the name and show a school picture of the student, the look on your face drops.

Minlee. It’s Minlee on the screen. Its all too much for you right now. Your stomach twists and turns along with your hands that begin fidgeting. She seemed so healthy and happy these past few days when you saw her. It didn’t add up. It wasn’t going to ever add up to you that you had just lost one of your new friends.

Packing your things up in a hurry, your phone begins to go off with a bunch of text messages at a time. You know it could be the groupchat. What you wanted to the most right now, is to go home to cry and calm down. You shove everything in your backpack and place the kitten back on the floor nicely before taking off towards the door. You bump into somebody on the way out, causing them to drop a picture in their hand. The two of you both reach to pick it up, but they pick it up first before you.

“ I’m sorr-”

You’ve seen her before. Long curled hair, big dimple on her left cheek, and bangs.

There’s no fucking way.

183 notes · View notes

ererokii · 3 years ago

Text

— broken strings and beautiful melodies

diluc r. x f!reader

Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: major character death, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, gore, this does not follow the og plot and lore/ some spoilers for “We Will be Reunited” Archon Quest Note: this is for Attack On Academia’s Mythology Summer Collab! Please be sure to check out the masterlist for everyone else’s works. They all worked super hard and it turned out amazing! And big thanks to @reddriot and @axther for betaing <3

Synopsis: A simple love story between the Pyro Archon, and a mortal.

taglist || masterlist || server link || collab masterlist

Another four days pass and it’s finally Friday. Fridays at Angel’s Share were no different from the ones prior. Exhausted adventurers and townspeople venture inside the tavern to drink their woes away, to forget, or to have a great time. It was annoying, to say the least—hearing the laughter and cheers bouncing off the walls.

However, Diluc had to say nothing was worse than a certain pigtail braided bard strutting in with his lyre. The redhead had no choice but to serve the bard his choice of drinks after figuring out his true identity (although he still makes him pay the whole total—even if the singer can’t find a way to pay).

Like before, the bartender lifts his head up, crimson eyes boring into the crowd gathering beside the bard at the nearby table.

The bard’s soft voice matches with the melody of his lyre, fingers pulling and gracefully sliding past the strings. His eyes closed, telling a story to the nearby peers and the quiet man standing behind the counter. A tale Diluc heard once, yet it weighed on him all the same.

“The story of this archon is no better than the rest, yet, the most tragic comes from the debris of war. The god of War was like no other. Loads of strength, yet grief and sorrows weigh him down like an anchor in the vast ocean. Love is a mere factor, yet love is one of the many things the god brought ruin to.”

With heavy footsteps, a red-haired male walks along the dirt path in no shoes, wearing the silkiest of robes one could ever obtain. He hums to himself, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his face, letting out a huff of annoyance when it falls right back into the same position as before.

He breathes in the crisp air of the summer night, relishing the winds that brush across his skin. Summers in Natlan were one of a kind. While it was scorching in the morning, when the night came around, all was calm. The harsh rays turned into blissful winds that cleansed the land of heat.

During the other seasons, it was never too cold, nor was it ever too hot. The temperature was just right for all men, women and children.

Located in the southwestern region of Teyvat, Natlan was home to the Pyro Archon, known as The God of War. The god, Murata, is unlike any other god. Ruthless and fierce, he does not handle any threat lightly. Anything thrown his way, he does not hesitate. With kindness and love, Murata will no doubt protect his nation.

His statues are scattered across the land. Standing with his formal rags and cloak that shields his face, Murata holds his claymore in his right hand, the tip pointing down to symbolize his foes beneath him as he celebrates in victory.

In the night sky, his statues act like lights to guide those on safe journeys home or to neighboring nations. Along with being guides, the structures are used for a place of reverence. Often many would journey far and wide to pay thanks for everything he has done.

In the center lies the biggest of them all, flowers and candles are set up around it for ceremonial purposes. Every night new plants were replaced for the days to come. Like the other Archons, Murata was grateful for his people. When roaming the land, he spots commoners on their knees by the base of the statue during the late of night or the crack of dawn. Not wanting to disturb, the archon watches from afar.

Today is different. Murata continues to walk along the path, listening to the noises coming from the forest animals and the creeks as the waters begin to rush at this hour of the night. He can’t help but let out the faintest of hums at the sounds of nature.

He reaches for the side of his face, tucking a red strand behind his ear. Often the god will put his hair up into a low or high ponytail, but for outings in the cool atmosphere, he prefers to wear it down. His powers were compared to his hair many times. When describing his appearance, he listens to the children exaggerate saying his hair is literal flames that he can produce from the palm of his hands. Of course, this is nowhere near true, but a child’s imagination is quite amusing.

In the distance, his crimson hues bore straight ahead at the small flickering light.

“Someone must be up now,” he whispers to himself, debating on leaving them alone but instead, chooses to go up ahead and observe from a closer proximity. Muratans knew what their god looked like. He comes out during the day to pay visits but never for long periods of time.

As quick as they see him, it's as quick as they’ll see him leave. No one can ever hold his attention for too long.

The sound of strings being played can be heard from his spot-- and he halts. A lyre, one of his favorite pastimes and favorite instruments.

Over the hill is a figure sitting beside the statue, back turned to him but he can see the movement of their arm. Curious, Murata continues to stalk forward quietly, not wanting to disturb the worshipper.

The melody played is show-stopping in his eyes. He wonders if Celestia had sent down someone he was unaware of to play this just for him, and only him. If anything, he could settle on the grass and listen to them play for ages on end, wearying his immortal days out. Music was the only thing that could settle him, but not forever.

Now, he's a mere few steps away from the cloaked figure. His face is lit up by the candles by his feet. His tongue peeks out of his lips as an unknown feeling bursts through his body. His palms felt sweaty and his heart rate increased.

He winces when the wrong note is played, gritting his teeth together. The redhead doesn’t think much until a force pushes him backward.

“W-Why are you standing there watching me?! Don’t you know this place is meant for us to come together, not to be creepy like you just were right now?!”

“W-What?” he whispers in surprise, bringing a hand to cover his nose that suddenly feels wet. He pulls away, noticing the red drops on his skin. Blood.

“Don’t question me that way! You know exactly what you were doing… A pig is what you are. Oh, just you wait until Murata finds out about this.”

“Murata huh?” he questions, wiping his hand on the grass, watching the blood dissolve into nothing-- the red trails of blood trickling down his nose come to an unsuspecting halt.

He clears his throat and comes to stand, staring down at the figure behind him. With the candlelight, a glimpse of crimson eyes and matching hair can be seen. In a matter of seconds, it's silent. Until there is a subtle gasp.

It amuses the Archon greatly to see a change in behavior and the fear present in the civilian's eyes. He wouldn’t dare try anything to her, but maybe it would lighten the mood if he did.

With desperate breaths of air, you reach forward and grab ahold of the man's hands, squeezing as hard as you could. “M-My Lord, I deeply apologize for my behavior! Please forgive me! I was foolish!”

“No need to be formal all of a sudden…mistakes are made and all can be forgiven. I must say, you are quite gifted with that instrument in your hand.”

Your face heats up, suddenly finding the ground much more interesting than him as you gaze down. Your god had just complimented you and yet here you are losing the composure you had seconds ago.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hand clutching the lyre close to your chest. “It’s an honor to hear such wonderful words, especially coming from you.”

Murata stares down, an unexplainable look upon his face. Then, he smiles.

“Your name?”

“Pardon?”

“What is your name? As someone as gifted as you, I think you deserve to have your name remembered.”

“My name is Y/N. For some reason, your kind words seem to boost my confidence. I normally don’t play in front of people, I’m too shy and afraid of their judgement. I only like to play in front of the statue… or in this case, you.”

“How about you play for me again?”

The angelic sounds of your lyre had been played more often since you’ve met the god. The night was when you shined, when no one was around to listen or stare at you. The dark sky made you feel alone, yet you were at peace. You found pleasure in playing for the Pyro Archon statue, yet having him sitting beside you and listening made your heart beat just a bit more than before.

During the day, you find yourself sitting under the big oak trees, the sunlight peeking through the leaves and shining upon you two. Murata lays close to you, eyes shut and lashes resting against his upper cheeks as the song lulls him to a quick nap or a state of serenity.

He’ll comment on a subtle note, saying how he loves the pitch, or give recommendations. Many times Murata has taken your instrument and played a tune or two for you. He says every gentleman should at least know how to serenade a lady.

As a child, your family spoke highly of him. They even used him as a threat against you when you’ve done something wrong. Now that you look back, it was a mere hoax and it possibly scarred you just a bit. When you first told Murata this, he stared with his lower lip quivering before his shoulders started to shake and then, he let out a laugh.

“Surely you didn’t believe that, right?”

“I did! I was a child, what else was I supposed to do?! I nearly wet my sheets when my mother told me that you would come and scare me!”

“Well come on now, are you still scared?”

He enjoys seeing you worked up—then again, he loves seeing you play the lyre. He stays quiet and watches your fingers move as if they had a mind of their own. You move with grace, without hesitation. There is no wrong note, no wrong string when you play. Sometimes being here with you in this moment made him feel like he was mortal. Like he was able to live freely.

Being bound to divinity in Celestia, Murata had wandered Teyvat for ages, alone. Each person he had gotten close to, he had to watch them disappear from this world in the shadows. At some point, he even had to pretend to be lost so others could forget about him. If they forgot about Murata, would the load be easier on the Pyro Archon’s shoulder?

But now, you’re aware of his status and who he truly is. If you were to stay by his side, would he be the last thing you see before you pass into the next life? He’s not sure, but he’s hoping that won’t be true. He couldn’t bear with the guilt that will get him worked once more at the thought of another mortal dying in front of his eyes.

“Murata?” you ask one afternoon, sitting by the same statue you met him for the first time. “What’s it like?”

He steers his gaze away from the clouds and onto you, an eyebrow raised in question. “What is what like?”

“You know—” you start, messing with the material of your dress, head lowered. “Being a god?”

And then he freezes. Out of all the questions you could have possibly asked, this one had to be the most unexpected.

“Why do you wish to know something like that?”

“I want to know what it’s like. Immortality and eternal beauty sound pretty amazing, doesn’t it?”

“No,” he immediately states, sitting upright. His body looks tense, posture perfect and hands in his lap. However, you notice the small twitch in his fingers, as if he’s thinking. You can hear the heaviness in his breathing—lips parted as the air slips in and out of his mouth.

How can living on this earth for years on end, watching people die in front of you like they are meaningless, be perfect? Is that what people thought about immortality? The faces of past friends from ages ago are nothing but a blob of color in his mind. He can’t remember their faces, nor their voices—only the memories they have shared, and even that is starting to fade away.

Murata cleared his throat, eyes fluttering shut. His chest heaved up slowly, before falling at the same rate. Soon, he opens his eyes and faces you. He reaches up and tightens his high ponytail, running his fingers through the red tresses. “The life of an immortal is not...ideal.”

“There comes a time where living forever is not as good as it seems. A human like yourself might think differently since there is an end to everyone’s journey. Death is inevitable for a human, and almost all are afraid of the end itself. Even… I am afraid there will be a time I will be cursed with that end. But for now, that’s something that rarely crosses my mind..”

And he continues. Murata proceeds to tell you about the drawbacks of being a God. When he speaks, you can see pain flash across his eyes as he recalls a memory of a loving friend who passed before him. He tells you there’s no avoiding this never ending nightmare. If there was a way he could overcome this spell of immortality, he would choose mortal life in an instant.

He believes nothing good comes with this. In his eyes, everything gets destroyed by his hands. If he hadn’t created this nation, he wouldn’t be here with you, nor would he have people at his feet who love and worship him for everything—for giving them a home. He would be a traveler with no home, or loved ones.

The Archon doesn’t realize how much of his thoughts he spilled until he feels the warmth of another—your hand resting upon his cheek. This alerts him as he jolts, eyes wide as he stares at you. You wear a small smile, head cocked to the side. Your thumb moves on its own, wiping the tear away that dribbles down the swell of his face.

His body relaxes, shoulders slouching as he relishes your touch, not having been caressed by another, let alone a human. If he’s being honest, it's been at least a century since he has gotten close to another mortal. It’s a foreign feeling, but he loves it nonetheless.

Your soft spoken words are enough for him to be at ease.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to continue through the suffering.”

In a vulnerable state, the tears continue to flow down his face, arms slithering around your body as he pulls you in close. At first the motion shocks you, but soon you return the action, hand resting on the small of his back and by his head, stroking the soft locks. You can hear the faint sobs that escape his lips and it’s strange. From stories, they state Murata was fierce, barely any emotion in him.

But he looks nothing more than a broken man in need of comfort.

You press your lips against his head, humming softly to him. His arms tighten around you, a shaky breath slipping past. As much as Murata hates this feeling, but after being alone for as long as Teyvat had been founded, he thinks he deserves to be this close to someone again.

After moments of silence, the god is positioned beside you, hand resting on your thigh and head on your shoulder. His eyes feel heavy, the area feeling irritated and scratchy from his crying. As much as the thoughts still swirl in his head, they seem to be drowned out by the melody you play for him.

He lazily draws organic shapes with the pad of his finger on your skin, eyes beginning to close.

Your lyre is one of the few beautiful things he has come across in his lifetime. You currently hold the number one spot for the most beauty he has seen but when you sit with your instrument, he swears he can see the wings of an angel behind you.

He steers his gaze from the lyre to your face, eyes taking in the small details of your visage. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he notices the slip of your tongue peek from your lips, eyebrows creasing in concentration. Along with the melodies, he listens to your small hums as you play a song just for him-- one of worship and love.

His hand runs up your arm, halting your movements at once. Eyes opening, you stare forward for a second before looking down upon him. He recognises your confusion and lets out a laugh, hand trailing up before his thumb rests on your chin, making you keep your gaze on him.

Your face heats up at this interaction, mouth parted. Your breathing becomes uneven when you notice the close proximity. Your stomach flutters, the back of your throat suddenly going dry—no words able to slip through. His chest rises and falls just as quick as your own.

His tongue peeks through, licking his lower lip. His crimson hues stare at your lips before averting his gaze to your eyes. As much as it’s tempting, now is not the right time.

“Beautiful,” he whispers quietly, for your ears only. “So beautiful… like an angel sent down from the divine...”

- The lyre, made of nature’s resources and carved into the most adoring shapes—the ends curving in different directions and a piece of excess wood piercing straight through the middle with a pointed tip and a rounded end. Made for the best, the lyre contains seven strings that seem to glow throughout the day and the night.

In the middle, an emerald gem shines embedded on the wood, reflecting the rays of the sun, sparkling for all to see. Around lies the detail of the sun, the soft yellows encircling it. And just beneath that is gold details that resemble the wings of those who are free. Two flowers that are foreign to the land of Natlan are delicately engraved—their colors showing pure innocence.

The Cecilia flowers stay in bloom, never once dying out. Nor has any other grown in their place.

A perfect instrument, one of elegance and purity. Perfect for you.

The origins of said lyre are unknown, yet when it was given to you as a young child, you didn’t dare question it. Instead, you took it with the biggest grin and thanked your father as many times as you could. You were intelligent and extremely talented. At first, your mother was skeptical of such an object being in the possession of an nine year old, but your father assured it was in safe hands.

Since then, it’s been by your side to this day. It’s never been out of your grasp and you only let certain trusted people play it. For some reason, seeing others hold the instrument made you feel weird.

Playing your gift made you feel like you were above the world, like you could ascend to Celestia and play for the gods. It felt as if some sort of divine power surged through your veins and riled you up. And now at the ripe age of 24, having the Pyro Archon by your side as you play for him daily, it feels as if your purpose of living has been complete.

Seeing his soft smile and slight nods he gives when he's impressed (which is all the time) or when he places his hand on yours to play along with you. Having him close to you makes you feel warm, excited and giddy; almost like a young girl in love.

Which... You won’t lie to yourself about that.

There have been times during the day where you catch yourself thinking about the red head. Thoughts of him swirl your head as you drift off to sleep and he’s the first thing you think about in the morning. Sometimes you notice that you make motions in the air, like you are stroking something, when in reality, you wish to have his head in your lap again as you play with the loose ends of red tresses.

The god was just so breathtaking. Staring into his eyes was mesmerizing. The color of flames held in his eyes drew you in so far, it felt as if you were walking through a pit of flames. Yet, these flames never extinguished or brought harm to you.

“You’re lost in thought again,” Murata comments, poking your shoulder with his pointer finger. “You alright there? I don’t need you tripping over a rock or something.”

“Huh?” you ask, glancing over at him. “O-Oh it was nothing. I’m okay.” You offer a not so convincing smile, scratching the nape of your neck in embarrassment. Knowing you for a while, the god offers a nod and looks forward, his hands behind his back, steps in sync with yours.

You let your hand drop, clearing your throat as you hum, filling the silence with some noise. Your eyes wander around the area before gazing up at the tall man beside you. You take notice how the ends of his ponytail sway side to side with every step he takes.

The apple of your cheeks heat up when you can see his back muscles flex as he straightens his posture. The shirt he wore let your imagination run wild; there was no doubt that Murta was built.

“It’s quite rude to stare,” Murata says out of nowhere, barely glancing over at you. “If you want, I can just stand in front of you so you can actually look at me face to face.”

“Oh be quiet,” you mutter, stepping forward and grabbing hold of his hand—his much larger, covering yours entirely. Upon contact, his fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing softly.

“You know I love messing with you,” he hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, which you respond back to him with a quiet “I know.”

The rest of the walk is filled with comfortable silence. It’s a bit chilly in the land of Natlan. One of the many summer days that turn out to be filled with crisp air and cloudy skies. Storytellers always said if it were cloudy during the season of summer, karma and misfortune was on the way—yet no one believed such lies like that.

His hand is so warm, you think, glancing down at your conjoined hands. Ever since that day by the giant stone statue of the god where you almost kissed him, his behavior towards you changed drastically. He’s been a bit more touchy (not that it bothered you; in fact, you loved it), holding your hand and somewhat more affectionate. At the end of your day when you would say goodbye, he would pull you close and plant a gentle kiss to your cheek or sometimes even close to your lips.

Just thinking about those actions makes you flustered, looking away from him and out to the open.

“What do you think it means to be in love?”

Hearing those words from the man beside you causes you to choke on your saliva, hitting your chest to calm your ongoing coughs. When you’re finally composed, you gasp for air and stare at him in shock. “W-What do I think about that?”

“Mhm.” He nods, inhaling deeply, his other hand reaching up into the air as if he was stretching before lowering it. “What do you think it means to be in love? I’m curious as to what you humans think it might be.”

“I-” You gulp, eyes semi wide as you try to wrack your brain for anything. That was not a question you were expecting, especially right now. “W-Why do you want to know? Isn’t love, love?”

“Well, aren't there different ones? Can’t people be in love with parts of someone? Lets say, only being in love with someone for their status in the nation. Or just their looks but not for them.

“Well… I think being in love with someone means you don’t care about their status or who they look or who they are.”

“Even if they’re a god?”

“Even if they’re a god.” you say confidently, before realizing what he said. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Even if they’re a god,” he repeats, stopping in his tracks as he turns to face you. His cheeks are painted with soft pink, red eyes averting from you.

Murata’s heart is racing, far faster than it ever has in his life. HIs lips are dry, his mouth is parched. His shoulders heave with every deep breath he takes. Does the sweat of his hands bother you? God, he feels like a young boy about to confess his love to a girl he’s been pining over—although he's not completely wrong.

“Murata, what’s wrong?” you ask quietly, tilting yourself a bit to look up into his eyes as his head is lowered. “Are you okay?”

“Why are you so intoxicating?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Y-You’re all I can think of,” he stutters, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t get you out of my mind, even though I shouldn’t get close to those I love and care for. In the end, I’ll be here and be forced to live with this overweighting guilt that rests upon my shoulders as time continues to flow knowing that you’ll be dead.”

A hiccup gets caught in the back of his throat, his thoughts becoming foggy all of a sudden. “I don’t like this feeling. I absolutely despise it. Many times after we hung out, I thought about disappearing again like I have before I got too close to anyone again. But I can’t let you go, nor will these memories ever go away.”

“Don’t you understand?” he whispers, hand shaking as his grip becomes tighter. “I can’t lose you… you’re too special to me already. I know there will be a day where we part ways forever but I want to be a part of your journey until then.”

His confession throws you for a loop. His words continue playing over and over in your head like a song you learned the night prior. You have this unexplainable feeling in your chest, yet it warms up as the seconds pass. Your whole body feels tingly, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

Your quietness is too much for him to handle right now—a bit silly if you were to ask the Archon himself. “Say something,” he mutters, shaking your hand lightly. The redhead can already feel the rejection pooling in the depths of his stomach, eating away at him.

“You... Do you love me?” you whisper, looking up at him with doe like eyes. Murata can’t seem to answer for himself, one hand cupping your cheek. He moves closer, his breath fanning your face. The flames in his eyes gaze into yours, losing himself in the color before he averts down to your lips. A quiet way of asking for consent.

You lean forward, lips barely brushing against his. It’s shy between the two of you. After having such strong feelings for each other, neither of you know how to proceed. No one moves, it feels time has stopped.

You feel him pull away slightly before going back in, his lips fully pressed against yours. His other hand drops yours, instead wrapping his arm around your lower back. Your chest pressed up against his, your finger runs up his side, to the top of his shoulder and around, cradling the back of his neck.

His finger tightens around the material of your coat you wore for the day, using it as leverage to keep you standing. His kisses are soft yet fierce. The softness of his lips and his scent up close are enough to drive you insane, enough to make your knees buckle and make you want more. You want more of him, Murata.

A small grunts leaves his mouth when you tug on his hair. In return, he nibbles on your lower lip, chuckling at the small noise you produce from his motion. It’s becoming harder to breathe as you stay in this position with him. If air wasn’t a necessity, you wouldn’t go for it.

You pull away from him, panting softly as you gaze up into his eyes. His eyes hold nothing but love and adoration as he peers down at you. The corners of his lips curve upward as he leans in, barely presses against yours again before pulling away. He sneaks in a few quick pecks, listening to your quiet laughter.

“Of course I love you.” He makes you look up at him, your face cradled in his hands as if he was holding something delicate, something that could be wrecked and destroyed any second. “That’s why I asked you what you thought about it.”

“And I love you too,” you reply softly. “I thought.. After everything you wouldn’t want to have feelings like this, let alone a human.”

“Sometimes boundaries are meant to be broken if it means true happiness.”

“Tensions have arisen in the land of Natlan. Nearby gods have caused quite the stir, causing Murata to put it to a halt at once. Upon ascending to his seat in Celestia, there have been prophecies saying a great misfortune is underway and can arrive in an instant. Since then, he’s been worked up. He cares much about his nation and will let no harm come its way.”

The bard strums the string before growing silent, letting his head hang forward, his pigtails falling in his face. “It’s a true shame that such a horrid thing came to be… If only he was strong enough as he said he was.”

Murmurs arise from the drunken peers, hiccups joining the air as they beg him to continue the song. Even if some wouldn’t remember this night in the morning, this was still enough entertainment.

“W-What happened next, bard?! Finish it!” an adventurer gasps, holding his cup of alcohol close to his chest, his cheeks heated and a light pink.

“You wish to know?” the bard asks, peeking through his lashes, his two toned eyes staring into the soul of the bartender. “Why of course!” he laughs cheerfully then clears his throat, batting his eyelashes as he brings his hand to his chest.

“Although, I’m quite parched and would love to have another cup of Dandelion Wine! What do you say, Master Diluc?”

“My answer is no. Do not ask me for something when you will not pay in the end.”

“Agh what a shame,” the bard sighs, letting his head hang back but never breaking eye contact with the redhead. “Don’t you wish to know about the ending?”

“I could care less.” Diluc speaks through gritted teeth, arms crossed over his chest, the infamous pose he does every hour of the day. “I just want you out of here.”

“I’ll pay for him!” one of the nearby men yell, fumbling with his wallet to grab the gold circles of currency to give to the bartender—and all the bard can do is smile cheekily, opening his hand.

“Well, looks like the drink is paid for. Can I have it now, Master Diluc?”

The red head, already annoyed with the behavior of the young man in front of him, reluctantly takes the coins from the drunk. Without speaking, he serves the singer his desired drink, noticing the small smirk he wears. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” he asks, eyeing him up and down.

“Because I’m getting to my favorite part.” He takes a sip of his drink and places the cup back down. After a pleasant sigh is heard from him as he takes hold on his lyre, stroking the white petals of the Cecilia flowers. “And you’re gonna love it.”

- Melodies of the lyre were played even during the darkest of times. The soft notes were enough to make anyone who felt down happy again, or at least content, even yourself. The colors of the strings being played was enough to put you at ease. Sometimes when you’re out in the town, many children would ask you to play their favorite song or at least a simplified version if you weren’t familiar with it.

But as of now, all of Teyvat was in ruin. Murata had told you the truth; he hated keeping you in the dark when you deserved to know. As much as he disliked saying this, your life indeed was on the line, more than his. In fact, the whole nation was at risk, along with the other six neighboring ones.

From other Archons, Murata heard that a water monster, Osial, had arisen and was ready to ruin and kill innocents for the sake of a seat in Celestia. Morax, who was the overseer of Liyue at the time, was trying his best to seal the beast with his spears.

In this case, Murata hopes a threat like this doesn't happen to Natlan. Especially when he’s not there to protect his people, to protect you.

Murata hears a gush of wind from behind him and the earth beneath him starts shaking. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, small puffs of air slipping out of his mouth. He reaches above and tugs on the black hood of his cape.

His archon outfit consists of silk white pants and black sleeveless shirt that resembled a vest with a slit down the middle of his torso. And to top it, a black cape flows behind, the hood covering his face from all to see. In his right hand, his fingers curl around the handle of his claymore.

A heavy burden rests upon his shoulders as he stares forward, seeing the world erupt into flames and utmost chaos. In the distance, he can hear the screams and cries of the families asking for mercy. He wonders what you would think about him if you were to see him right now.

“Murata,” you whine, trailing the last syllable of his name as his lips peck against the bare skin of your shoulder. “Come on, you know that tickles.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll continue to do it,” he muses, nipping at your skin before blowing warm air onto your neck which causes you to squirm from him, pressing your hands against his chest. He listens to your soft laughs, loving the way your body moves under his touch. Your arms wrap around his neck, hugging him close as you hum, inhaling the scent you’ve grown to love.

“Mmm… I love you.”

“And I love you too,” Murata whispers to no one, blinking rapidly when he realizes he was lost in thought and was not in fact with you, but only remembering a moment from a few days ago. In reality, here he stands in the middle of a deserted land that must be destroyed. Blood is on his hands, splattered on his face.

“I didn’t even want to do this,” he mutters, grinding his teeth together as he proceeds to walk forward, watching red explosions burst from the ground, red blocks protruding from either ends of the nation. In the sky, the color purple takes over as lightning strikes down from the heavens and is brought forth onto the land.

From his position, the ground had been cracked and was on the edge of being split apart if another Archon had used their powers against the nation.

He lifts his claymore in the air, staring up at the red sky with anguish. His lips part as he whispers something to himself, reassuring that what he is about to do is alright and isn’t his fault. A sudden strike of his weapon pierces the land, flames bursting into the air and cracking the earth.

Murata breathes heavily, leaning on the rounded edge of his weapon. Sweat trickles down his face, the hood falling off of his head. Two strands of hair fall forward, framing his face, the rest of it tied back into a low ponytail.

The flames continue to run down the cracks which branch to smaller ones that cause the piece of rock beneath the surface to crumble and fall, leaving the terrain to become uneven.

“Wow! Even from afar I can spot you,” a semi high pitched says from behind him. The Pyro Archon stiffens, internally groaning as he stares over his shoulder, meeting two green eyes. “Someone doesn’t look happy as he used to be.”

“Barbatos,” Murata grumbles, looking forward as he straightens his posture. With one hand, he picks his hood over his head once more and the other pulls his claymore from the ground, resting it on his shoulder. “What do you want from me now?”

“Just letting you know Morax has finished in the south region of Khaenri'ah,” Barabtos states, a frown growing on his lips as he looks away, the tips of his toes barely touching the ground as his wings keep him afloat. “You're not the only one who didn’t want this. We had no choice.”

“No choice huh…” He trails off, his claymore suddenly evaporating into thin air and gold dust left in its wake. “How are we loving, protecting gods if we just obliterated this nation with no god? What does that make us? We’re no better than those who do us wrong against our own homeland. We’re just like Decarabian. Nothing but tyrants.”

“Don’t bring up that name again.”

“Why? Because deep down you know it's true.”

“Because that was his own choice to keep us entrapped. We had no choice but to bring ruin. They felt-” Barbatos hesitates, licking his lower lip before continuing, “-they felt threatened. A nation with no god is a false one to Celestia. Everything must be in order. Khaenri’ah was not the case. We had to, or we’re next. The divine is not ready for a land with no god.”

“I shouldn’t have come.”

“Murata. If you hadn’t, who knows what would have happened to Natlan.” A deeper voice from behind him is heard, the sound of footsteps becoming louder before they stop beside him. “You and your people would have been in grave danger.”

“Unlike you, I don’t need to keep making contracts.”

Morax chuckles lightly, shaking his head, his ponytail swaying with the movement. “And how does that look on you, God of War?”

Murata shakes his head, refusing to look at the Anemo Archon and the Geo Archon. “War or not, this is not just. The victors burn bright and the losers turn to ash. This-” he motions to the now deserted land of dust and blood. The sky is a deep red, the sun or moon nowhere to be seen. The earth is uneven, mountains caving into the ground as streaks of dark colors emit from the ground.

The spot the three archons stand upon is nothing but cracked ground, an empty space separating them and the rest of the debris.

“This is not war.”

Even when he’s not in his right mind, the only thing that can put him to ease comes up, suddenly soothing his woes away. He closes his eyes, envisioning he’s somewhere else

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper in the god’s ear, twirling a strand of hair around your finger with a smile. “No wonder you’re a god. How could they not take you?”

“Please. You flatter me too much.” He grabs hold of your wrist, bringing it to his face, planting a kiss to it. “On the contrary, it should be you in my position. No, an angel is what you are.”

“An angel? Please, enlighten me.”

Murata shifts on his side to stare down at you, brushing the baby hairs from your face. A blanket covers your bodies from your previous intimate sessions, yet he remembers every curve, every flaw that’s perfection to his mind. “I mean, look at you. You’re too beautiful for this world.”

“Am I now?”

He nods, dipping his head slightly. The tip of his nose brushing against yours. “You are. You’re amazing. You’re everything in this world. You’re desirable but most importantly... you’re divine.”

“Wow, now I’m flattered.”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes creasing as he presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss. It lasts for a few seconds but it feels as if it goes on for years. When he pulls away, you cup his cheek. “And you are ethereal.”

The god shakes his head lightly with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. You’re all he can think about. Even when he is busy taking away innocent lives and watching them get turned into monsters, the sweet image of your face continues to pop into his mind. You’re the light in the dark.

He hates the feeling of being away from you, especially when he’s on close watch from Celestia. There’s something unsettling in the pit of his stomach that he can't quite put his finger on it. Murata watches Morax and Barbatos exchange a few words before he gasps, lifting his head up fast. “Natlan. It’s in danger.”

- The nation of Natlan, located in the southwestern region of Teyvat and home to the Pyro Archon, was under attack. There was no point in trying to save them, they were already too far gone. No god in sight yet the trails of monsters were left behind. Did the Archon truly love them like they said he did? Or was it all a lie to get people’s love?

The once beautiful land is ruined—looking like the one he destroyed not long ago. His statues that aided his people on their journeys far and wide were now broken and cracked. Chunks of stone litter the ground and crush nearby civilians. Whoever was standing beside those statues had been brought down along with them, no way to return.

The god feels weak in the knees as he staggers over the dirt path that has noticeable traces of dried blood. No doubt from his people. Where are the bodies? He has no clue.

Houses have been torn apart, the roofs blown off and thrown into the field of flowers on the other side. He feels torn at heart. He wants to give up walking, already knowing the outcome but refuses to stop. He hopes that a few people, even just twenty people, can still be alive and he can move them somewhere else.

The night is cold and fresh as it was years ago. Only this time, the sounds of the animals in the creek aren’t heard and the wildlife is quiet. He looks towards the forest, hoping a deer or a boar will rush through the trees. But his hopes die when he notices that's not happening, and the habitat is burnt to ashes.

“Somebody,” he croaks out, averting his eyes upward and freezes. Up ahead, in the center lies the biggest statue of them all, where flowers and candles are set up around it for ceremonial purposes. Every night new plants were replaced for the days to come.

The most beautiful statue in all of Natlan has been crushed. The head of the statue is gone from the area (he can only assume it had been tossed across the nation or into the river). The candles are no longer intact, the pieces scattered and buried into the burnt grass.

“No,” he whispers lowly before crying out, running towards it. His heart races as he steps closer and closer. All his worries and fears; he doesn’t want them to be real. He doesn’t want any of this to be real. He wants to be at home.

You.

Where are you?

He gasps for air and drops to his knees. Red eyes frantically search along the stone pieces. He plants his hands on the ground and hisses upon contact, retracting back. A rock share pierced his skin. Murata bites his lower lip as he shakes his hand, watching the piece fly off before he can continue looking.

Are you safe at home? You were, right? Surely you wouldn't come out when everything is being attacked, right? Yeah, that’s it. You’re safe at home waiting for him to return. Waiting for him to be in your arms so you can cry about your fears of losing your life and him.

And by the end he’ll calm you down, say soothing words into your ear as he holds you close, saying he’ll never leave like that again and stay with you forever. God or not, immortal or not, he plans to stay by your side.

And then your lyre will be played for you and only you. He knows your favorite melodies. Oh so beautiful, he loves hearing you play them but this time, he’ll play for you until the end of time.

Your lyre-

He freezes.

His hand hits something underneath the stone. Something smooth like wood and the prick of an object with a pointed tip—an all too familiar feeling.

With a grunt, he grabs ahold and heaves back, pulling it out from under the rubble. A surge of fear flows through his veins when he falls back, holding an object in his hands.

It’s a cracked lyre, with pieces broken off where an emerald stone originally would have laid. The gold trinkets are ripped right off, the empty space now feeling dull. He notices the seven strings have now turned to three and aren’t holding their original color that glows.

The only thing that’s untouched, however, are the Cecilia flowers. Not a hint of blood stains the white petals.

His eyes grow wide when he gazes somewhere else, spotting a hand peeking out from the same spot he pulled the lyre from. A choked cry gets stuck in the back of his throat when it all clicks together.

You weren’t home like he thought you would have been. You weren’t waiting for him to return from his wages of war, to be in his arms. Instead, you did what you always did.

Worshipped Murata, under the ceremonial statue.

The one that caused your death.

Tears well up in his eyes as he hugs the lyre close to his chest, mouth parting as a sob slips out. He rocks himself back and forth, shaking his head at this false reality but he knows this is all real.

Murata babbles to himself, muttering things underneath his breath as he hyperventilates. He can’t catch his breath. His throat is closing in on him, the air too thick to even breathe right now.

The tears blur his vision. He can’t see nor think straight anymore. The god of War was unable to save his people from the hardships of an incoming war. What kind of god was he? Was he even one? Or was he now a false one?

What seems to be years later, though it only is an hour or so, Murata finds himself standing on the edge of a cliff, dried up tears evident on his face. The whites of his eyes are red, the tip of his nose matching the same color.

He sniffles, nose stuffed from the moments earlier. His breathing hasn’t changed a bit. His shoulders still shake with every inhale. The atmosphere around him is tense, maybe even too quiet for his liking.

Behind him, he refuses to look back on the destruction he let happen. Even from a far enough distance, he can still clearly hear the crackling of fire and the sounds of a nation dying.

He lowers his hand from his chest, spreading his fingers open. In a matter of seconds, the handle of his weapon appears slowly, the rest of the claymore following suit in gold dust.

He peers down slightly, watching the red and black glow before dimming out. The slant from the edge of the weapon, one he has used to kill off his enemies without a thought. In the current state, he can see the traces of blood left behind.

In his other hand is the damaged lyre. His fingers keep it close to his chest, his heart. One of the last things he had of you. The tip of his pointer fingers strums a string and he winces from the uneasy sound it produces. This instrument no longer plays the melodies he adored, and worse yet, the person he adores can no longer hear it.

Murata was the Pyro Archon. Amongst the other gods, he was ruthless yet kind and merciful. When a threat was sent his way, he did not hesitate to take care of it. He took care of Natlan.

Or, that’s what should have happened.

He closes his eyes, goosebumps forming on his arms from the gust of wind that breezes by him, knocking his hood off. His hair that was let down swayed in the breeze, the loose ends flowing behind him. His bangs move slightly and then stop, falling in their original place.

The rest of his cape follows in the wind, the ends flowing behind him like the draft was made just for him right now.

“I let you down,” he says, clearing his throat. He stares at the colors of oranges, pinks and blues, meshed together to create the sunrise that he grew to love but now, he suddenly resents it.

A single tear cascades down his face and lands on his bare chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. A rare whimper slips past his lips. With a shake of his head, Murata brings the lyre to his face, pressing his lips against the cracked wood.

A goodbye kiss should always be special, shouldn’t it?

He pulls away, stroking the place where the gem would have been at. “I’m so sorry my love.” He averts his gaze and lowers himself, dropping the lyre on the ground underneath his feet.

“Even I could not save you from the end of your journey. And as your god, I failed to protect you.”

When he stands up straight, his fingers tighten around his claymore. He stares down at the instrument, longing for time to change and to go back. To go back to how things were before.

He can still hear the sound of your life and your smile popping into his mind. At the thought, his lips curl upward faintly in a small smile.

Oh how he misses you already. He still remembers when he first saw you on that day under the statue as you played for him. You were aggressive, that was for sure. No doubt about it when you swung at him with your lyre and accused him of being a disgusting pig.

He can only blame himself. Deep down, he knew a day like this would come, but he didn’t think it would happen so soon.

But maybe now, as he called you his angel or an angel of Celestia, you can now ascend to where you truly belong.

This isn’t goodbye, but a farewell, he thinks, clearing his throat as he gets closer to the edge. He peers downward at the ground miles beneath him.

As he failed here, he still has a job to do, no matter what.

So then he jumps. He brings his claymore around and over his shoulder and swings it down. Flames engulf him in whole on his way down until he hits the ground with a thud, his weapon taking up all the impact.

“And thus, the Pyro Archon aided in other nations against the treacherous demons that corrupted their land. After such heroic deeds, he was never to be seen. Many questioned: where did the god of War go? Who will remain victorious?”

“Many say he disappeared to join his love in the next life. Others say he stepped down as god to live amongst the mortals as he always wanted.” The bard hums and lays his lyre across his lap.

“It’s a shame really, how beauty can go to waste.” His fingers run over an emerald gem that lies in the middle of the wood. His lyre was beautiful.

The edges curved in different directions with a piece of wood piercing the top with a rounded end and pointed tip. Seven strings glowed recently as he placed the object to rest.

“But it’s not as if it was her fault.” His slender fingers run over the white petals with a faux sigh of despair. “She would have been popular amongst the folks here, if she was immortal, of course. If only he kept his word to her saying he would protect her no matter what.”

The bartender drowns out the rest of Venti’s words, his eyes trained on the wood beneath his feet.

Diluc Ragnvindr, owner of the Dawn Winery and Angel’s Share. Information is at his fingertips wherever he goes. In Mondstadt, he is a nobleman of high status. Everyone knows about him.

His crimson eyes hold tears as he lets out a shaky breath, bringing a gloved hand to wipe away at the water that threatens to spill.

He tries to keep his mind off of it but he can’t suppress it.

In front of him was Lord Barbatos himself—one he knew too well from millennia ago. Having fought with him in the Archon War, and the Destruction of Khaenri’ah, Diluc knew there was no way to get rid of him.

It shocked him the most that the bard even remembers the story from back then. Even if other storytellers told this tale, Venti was the one that pierced his heart the most.

“Master Diluc!” At the sound of his name, the red head hesitantly lifts up his head. Venti’s annoying smile greets him, pressing his finger against his cheek in a thinking motion.

“Did you like it? I hope you did! I try to incorporate any stories of the divine. It seems that today was a hit. Don’t you think so?”

“Why are you bringing it up?” he whispers, not caring that tears trail down his face. “Why do you need to remind me of my failure?”

The other peers don’t seem to notice the usual calm and collective man in tears. They’re all too far gone in the hole of alcohol.

Venti’s eyebrows crease, cocking his head to the side. “Failures? What do you mean? I’m just doing my job and singing like I always do. You’re doing great things in the Wine Industry. What failure could you possibly mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean!” Diluc snaps, slamming his hands on the counter in front of him, causing the bard to jump in his seat. “You know exactly what you’re doing!”

“Oh dear oh dear,” Venti sighs, shaking his head. He picks up his lyre, placing his lips against the wood.

“So pretty huh?” he asks once he pulls away, a small smirk on his lips as he shows Diluc. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if you got to play this?”

The strings continue to shine, dimming and going bright again. An instrument perfect for anyone and in this case, for Barbatos.

It pains Diluc to see him with your lyre. As much as you told him you despised other people holding it, he feels much more stronger about it. He wants nothing more than to snatch it from Venti’s hands and tell him to get out.

“Others say that he wanders in the world right about now. No one knows what he looks like though. It’s a shame if anyone were to find him and blame him.”

Venti’s fingers run over the strings. A melody is heard in the air, louder than any of the drunk men in the room.

Diluc feels a sob beginning to form in the back of his throat. He wants nothing of this. He wants to truly go back home to Natlan with you. He could have made you a god and you could have been here with him today.

As much as Diluc wants to look away, he’s mesmerized by the way the singer’s fingers move gracefully against the strings. For a split second, he could have swore he saw you sitting in his place, singing softly for his ears only.

Like the angel you were.

“But it seems that the god is afraid of confrontation. And yet, he seems to be mourning over his lover even after her death. If anyone were to be at fault, it would be his—”

Venti stops, peering up at Diluc through his lashes. A sinister look was evident in his eyes. He paused for dramatic effect, a smirk growing on his lips. He hums and strums the last note.

“Isn’t that right, Murata?” Venti muses, asking a question in the form of a song. But in reality, he aimed it towards the redhead god standing in front of him.

Diluc stares dumbfounded, mouth parted and eyes red from his silent crying. His hands are balled beside him. The peers cheer for the bard and offer drinks to compensate for his amazing singing—to which he laughs it off but takes the offers regardless.

And all Murata can do is live with his own guilt, for the rest of his immortal life. Forever.

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team-free-will-you-idjits-67 · 4 years ago

Text

The News After...

DESCRIPTION: Some unexpected news puts strain between your relationship with Dean Winchester. Sam Winchester confronts you, telling you to talk to Dean and saving your relationship.

POV: Female Reader

CHARACTERS: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

RELATIONSHIPS: Dean x Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, SMUT, and more SMUT. NSFW, small fluff

WORD COUNT: 2854

AUTHORS NOTE: Hey guys! So this was a request from the lovely @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce. They messaged me forever ago about this and y’all know I haven't really been writing for a long time. I’m trying to get back into the full swing of writing so I hope you enjoy this!

MY MASTERLIST / DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST

MY TAG LIST

You paced the bathroom floor, gnawing on your lip as you continuously checked the time on your phone. 2 minutes seemed to take 20 years as you waited to see the test results. As the time changed to 2:18, you sighed, shoved your phone into your pocket and walked over towards the sink.

The two pregnancy tests you had taken were flipped over on the cool, white porcelain. Your hands shook as reached for the sticks and flipped them over in your hands to see the results.

Positive.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your emotions that began to flood through you. You didn’t know whether you were happy, scared or both.

You and Dean hadn’t been trying to get pregnant, but you weren’t exactly being careful either. With everything that had happened within the last few months, Chuck trying to kill everyone, defeating him, Jack taking his powers and disappearing, dealing with the loss of Cas, this was the last thing that you wanted to happen. Emotions within the bunker were still running high and you didn’t know how Dean was going to cope with this news.

A knock on the door made you jump, scaring you out of your thoughts, “Y/N?” Dean’s gruff voice, muffled by the door, showed slight concern, “Are you okay in there? You’ve been in there awhile.”

You shoved the pregnancy tests into the waistband of your jeans and wiped the tears off your face that you hadn’t realized escaped from your eyes. “Yeah babe,” you cleared your throat, “I’m okay. I’ll be out in a sec.” You turned on the sink and washed your hands as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

“Okay,” you could hear him sigh softly, “Sammy and I just finished making dinner. Come to the kitchen when you’re done, okay?”

You nodded to yourself, “Okay, thank you!” You sighed with relief when you heard Dean’s boots trudge away from the bathroom.

You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror. “How am I going to tell him? You sighed as you pushed away from the sink, the pregnancy tests poking you in the side with every sway of your hips within your stride.

Walking towards the warn, dark wood door you took a deep breath before opening it. You peaked into the hallway, making sure the boys weren’t around before sliding out of the bathroom and jogging towards your shared room with Dean. You dipped into your room, Dean’s warm apple and bourbon musk enveloped your senses, calming you slightly as you looked for a spot to hide the positive tests.

Settling on your dresser, you walked towards the aged, red stained oak cabinet you received from your late grandmother. It was one of the few things that you were able to keep from your life before hunting. You opened up the bottom drawer that you kept miscellaneous memorabilia from your life, and tucked the tests underneath a picture of you and your grandma. You smiled, knowing she would have been ecstatic to hear about the news of you being pregnant. You shut the drawer and made your way out to the kitchen so Dean didn’t try looking for you again.

You walked through the bunker halls slowly, lost in thought. You didn’t notice when Dean walked up to you, “Hey, Y/N? Babe, are you okay?”

You looked up, “Wh-What? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He grabbed your hand and started walking towards the kitchen with you, “You seem… off.”

You nodded and smiled towards him, his olive-green eyes sparkling with wonder and shaded with worry, “I’m okay,” you squeezed his hand, “I promise.”

He nodded and pursed his lips, “Okay.”

You rounded the corner into the kitchen, the smell of chicken alfredo floated through the kitchen. You smiled at the boys, “You guys made my favorite?” Both Sam and Dean smiled and nodded, “Why?”

Dean walked away from you and rounded the center metal island, “You’ve done a lot for us the last couple months, keeping us together with everything that was going on, it’s the least that we could do.” He grabbed a plate and spooned a heaping proportion of alfredo onto it and handed it to you, “Plus you’ve done all the cooking while Sammy and I ran around and did research, we probably would have died of starvation if you weren’t here.”

You chuckled as you grabbed the plate from him, “Well, thank you guys. I appreciate it.”

The three of you sat and ate, joking around, replaying memories and just enjoying your time together. The boys didn’t have strings attached to them anymore, they weren’t gods puppets.

They were finally free.

After dinner, you helped the boys clean up and you all ventured into the ‘Dean Cave’ to watch a movie together.

You enjoyed the night and your time with the boys, but your news was still nagging at you. Your mind became more and more clouded as the night went on.

As you crawled into bed, Dean followed suit close behind. “Hey babe,” he drawled as he crawled up your body, settling himself between your legs. He kissed you softly and smiled, “Did you enjoy tonight?”

You giggled softly and nodded, “I did. Thank you guys. It was nice after the last couple months.”

Dean nodded with you and then winked, “Well, hopefully I can make you enjoy your night a lot more.”

“Oh yeah?” You teased, “How are you going to do that Mr. Winchester?”

He licked at his lips as he eyed you up and down, acting like a predator sizing up his prey, “Oh baby, you’re about to find out.”

Your giggles turned into soft moans as his lips trailed over your body, giving attention to every scar and bruise that littered your body. His fingers trailed behind his lips until they stilled against your cheeks. He fixed himself in his original position between your legs and kissed you, rougher and more passionate than before.

You began melting underneath him, the familiar and welcoming warmth of arousal began building in your belly as his fingers trailed down your body and pulled at your panties. He slipped the fabric down your legs slowly, breaking the kiss to shift himself down the bed to settle his head in between your legs.

He started slow, kissing your lower stomach and moving towards your inner thighs, making you squirm beneath him with need. Dean always liked drawing things out, making you more aroused with the anticipation of him touching you.

Soon, his lips wrapped around your clit. Your hands clenched at the bed sheets as he began sucking lightly on the pink bud. His lips and tongue worked quickly, his ministrations heightened your excitement, spreading your arousal through your body like wildfire. But, Dean being Dean, he stopped while you were right on the edge of climaxing so he could finish you off with his member.

Dean trailed kisses up your body before leaning back on his heels between your legs and lining himself up with your entrance. You looked up from his groin as his face and smirked. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he concentrated with a furrowed brow before sinking into you.

You gasped with pleasure as Dean began thrusting slow and deep but worry settled into your stomach as you thought about the fetus growing inside you. You tried your hardest to continue to be in the moment, trying to enjoy this intimate time with your boyfriend but you didn’t succeed. Soon, Dean’s thrusts began to falter, signifying his climax quickly approaching.

Dean came with a soft groan, placed one last kiss on your lips and then rolled over from above you to lay in his spot beside you. “Di-did you… you know?” He trailed off as he looked at the ceiling.

You shook your head and sighed, “No.”

Dean flipped to his side to face you, propped himself up on his elbow and placed his free hand on your stomach, “Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

Your stomach dropped as he rubbed at your belly, not knowing what was inside you but you turned your head towards him with a soft smile, “I’m okay, I promise.”

His brows furrowed slightly, eyes darkened with worry before he smirked, trying to believe you. “Okay.” He sighed and laid down, turning off the bedside light, “If there is something going on, will you tell me though?”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see it in the dark, “Of course babe.”

“Okay,” he said with a grunt as he turned on his side away from you.

Tears filled your eyes, knowing that you had upset Dean, but you didn’t know how you were going to tell him the news. You rolled onto your side and cried yourself, silently, to sleep.

—————————

Two days had passed since that night. Two days full of awkward energy between the two of you because neither of you could talk to the other about two totally separate topics.

You sighed as you threw a few more things into your duffle bag before zipping it and throwing it over your shoulder. You looked around your shared room with Dean once more with tear filled eyes and a melancholy smile. Dean was out on a supply run and probably a long drive with Baby, so it was the perfect time to get out.

You didn’t want to leave but, with how things have been going, you figured some time away from each other would help the both of you. You trudged through the bunker slowly. Your mind was pushing your forward while your heart wanted to stay behind.

You rounded the corner to the war room, and walked towards the stairs as you dragged your fingers across the map table.

“Y/N?”

Startled, you turned quickly with fists up and sighed, dropping your hands to your sides, when you realized who startled you, “Yeah, Sam?”

He smirked and then became serious, “Where are you going?”

You shrugged, “I’m going to go hole up in a motel for a couple days.”

He set the book of lore he had in his hands down onto the map table, “Why?” He crossed his arms over his chest, “Because of what’s going on between you and Dean?”

“Wha-How do you know about that?” You asked with a furrowed brow.

He scoffed, “It’s really easy to tell when something is bothering you two.” He walked around the map table towards you, “Running away from this won’t fix this Y/N, you need to talk to Dean about whatever is going on between you two.”

You sighed, “I know Sam, but I just,” you paused and rubbed your face, “I don’t know how to talk to him about what’s going on with me.”

“Why not? I thought you two told each other everything?”

You smiled, “We do, it’s just what I have to tell him is big.”

“Bigger than defeating God?” Sam said with a chuckle.

You laughed along with him, “I don’t know about that but,” you stopped as Sam looked at you quizzically. You pursed your lips and sighed, contemplating on telling Sam the news before Dean. Your brain got the best of you and “I’m pregnant,” fell out of your mouth like vomit.

Your eyes widened along with Sam’s as he processed the news, “You-you’re pregnant?”

You nodded sheepishly, “I am.” You walked past Sam and sat at the map table, letting your duffle fall from your shoulder and hit the floor with a loud thud, “And I don’t know how to tell him.” You put your head in your hands, “And because of this news, it made stuff,” you trailed off as you peaked between your fingers towards the gentle giant that was now sitting across from you at the table, “in bed the other night get a bit awkward.”

Sam shook his head, “That’s all I need to hear.” He sat forward in his chair, “You need to talk to him, Y/N.”

“I know, Sam. I will.”

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

You felt large, warm arms wrap around your waist and calloused fingertips rake over the bare skin of your belly that was peeking out from under your shirt, “Hey babe,” Dean whispered gruffly.

You rubbed at your sleep ridden eyes, unsure of when you fell asleep, “Hey baby,” you smiled, “How was the supply run?” You were surprised he came into bed to wake you up with how things had been going.

You could feel him smile against your shoulder, “It would have been better with you.” You giggled as he kissed your shoulder, “The drive gave me time to think though.”

You turned in his arms to face him, “What did you think about?”

Dean caressed your cheek softly and smirked, “Us.” You raised a brow towards him, “Before, you say anything, I want to apologize.” he licked his lips and captured the bottom one between his teeth, “I’ve been immature about the other night, it’s just,” he sighed, “I’ve never had a hard time making you cum. I’ve always prided myself with that and the other night just made me feel like maybe something was happening to us. Maybe-,” you placed a finger on his lips to stop him.

You smiled softly, “I promise you Dean, it wasn’t you. It was all me.” You rolled away from him and walked towards your dresser as Dean sat up to watch you with a puzzled look. You pulled at the bottom drawer, lifted your grandmother's picture and pulled out the pregnancy tests. You turned towards Dean with a sigh, trying to hide the pregnancy tests between your hands the best you could as you sat in front of him on the bed. “I was distracted the other night because of this.” You held the tests out towards Dean, “I-I’m pregnant, Dean.”

Dean grabbed the tests from your hands and stared at the two little pink lines on both sticks, “You’re pregnant?”

You shook your head, “I am.” You chuckled, “That’s what my issue was the other night. I was so worried about the baby and how I was going to tell you that I just couldn’t cum.”

He laughed, startling you slightly, “You’re pregnant!” He looked up at you, eyes shining with excitement, “Before, I would have worried about something like this but now? Now that we’re free from Chuck’s puppet strings? Thi-this is the best news.” Dean rubbed his mouth as he began to tear up, “I’m going to be a dad.” He got up out of bed and walked towards the door, “I’ve gotta tell Sammy!” He ripped open the door and yelled, “SAMMY!”You giggled as Dean jogged through the bunker calling his brother's name.

He took the news much better than you expected.

You got out of bed and followed Dean slowly. You walked through the halls, listening for the boys, surely, loud conversation. As you neared the library, you could hear Sam and Dean. You peaked around the corner of the doorway in the map table room to watch the interaction between the brothers.

Dean’s back was towards you but you could imagine the beaming smile plastered across his face as he practically jumped in place, “I can’t believe it. Can you? Me? A DAD, Sammy?”

Sam chuckled at his brother as he got up from his seat and dropped the book he had in his hands onto the worn oak, “Yeah, Dean.” He walked towards his brother and gave him a hug, “You raised me.” Sam patted Dean’s back and pulled away from the oldest Winchester, “You’ll do great.”

You smiled and ducked back into the hallway. You wanted Dean to have his moment with his brother, so you walked back to your shared bedroom.You laid in bed and scrolled through social media on your phone. Only a few minutes passed by before Dean came running into your bedroom, stopping just inside the doorway and grabbing the door to shut it. “How’d it go?” You asked feigning ignorance.

Dean crawled into bed beside you, “Great! He’s happy to be an uncle.”

You giggled as you turned onto your side to face him, “I’m glad.” You placed a soft kiss on his lips and smiled, “I’m glad we can actually enjoy this and not worry about some outside force ruining things.”

He caressed your cheek and looked deeply into your eyes with a small smirk, “I know. If this happened 6 months ago, I would have been a wreck.” He cleared his throat as his eyes grew darker, “Enough about that,” he almost growled. “I want to make up for the last few days.”

“Oh?” You questioned, “How are you going to do that?”

He bit his lip before he pushed you onto your back and crawled between your legs, “I’m going to make you cum, one time for everyday things were weird between us.” He pulled at your shorts with an impish grin, “You better be ready, baby.”

TAGS:

FOREVER TAGS:

@emoryhemsworth , @nanie5 , @gabrielslittleangel, @alexwinchester23 , @witch-of-letters , @caswinchester2000 , @justawaywardwinchester , @thehufflepuffblog , @missihart23 , @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting, @mogaruke, @supernaturalsammy01, @heyitscam99, @hobby27, @frozenhuntress67, @duskany, @mazie87 , @tumbler-tidbits , @mersuperwholocked-lowlife, @asfanfiction , @emilyshurley , @zephyrie , @ghostshadow1312 , @wholockmerlinlover, @singers-auto, @lokilove3112, @teddybeardoctorr, @sleepylunarwolf, @negans-lucille-tblr

DEAN/JENSEN X READER TAGS:

@xxtheoutsidersxx, @betsy-bradock, @adoptdontshoppets, @dean-winchesters-bacon , @jerkbitchidjitassbutt, @smoothdogsgirl

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #supernatural fluff #dean winchester and reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester and y/n #dean winchester x y/n #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fanfiction

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theficplug · 4 years ago

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Can I Come Home {Atticus (lovecraft country) Fic}

Atticus Freeman x Black Reader

Warnings: smut (21+)

(Ayida-Weddo is a loa of fertility, rainbows, wind, water, fire, and snakes)

(Atticus wants to come home after his little adventures. Reader isn’t having it.)

The incessant knocking at your door pulled you out of your concentration on rolling the last bit of your hair. It had been a week of perms and presses. You were more than ready to listen to your vinyls and relax by yourself away from the troubles of whatever was going on in this hell of a country.

The person at the other end of this door had other plans for you apparently and as an adventurous woman living alone you weren’t about to take any chances.

You grab the small pistol out of your brown fur coat on the rack and closed your eyes as your fingertips begin to spark little flames.

As you slowly creak the door open, Tic lowers his glasses and his face comes into view.

You let out a deep sigh of relief as you lower the pistol to the ground and the fire simmered down.

“BOY! You play too much knocking on my damn door at this hour of the night! I almost blew your ass clean to Mississippi, Atti ! I figured you’d drag yourself here after you finished parading around God knows where else with Miss Letitia Fucking Lewis.” you say reluctantly unlatching your screen door to look at your ex boyfriend face to face.

Even in the moonlight you could still see the bronze glow cascading from his sculpted cheeks, to his beautiful broad nose, and down to his cupids bow. He was standing there biting at his plump bottom lip nervously while awaiting you.

“Whoa . HEY. HEY . HEY!” He yelled with his hands up as he ducked down.

“Now, baby look, i-” Tic stammers across his words trying to plead his case as you press the cold bottle of Cola to your reddened lips as you give him the cold shoulder.

You shook your head and closed your eyes to summon snakes around his ankles as he hopped side to side kicking off the illusions.

“Town is small, Atti. Everybody talks. A postcard to know that your knucklehead ass is still alive would’ve been nice. But to hear from Betty with the uneven bob at the salon that you’re back in town running around with Leti of all people. You know good and well we haven’t seen eye to eye since junior high. I know we broke up but that don’t mean you had to disappear on me like that. Your triflin behind ain't no good Atti-. Why are you even here?” You ask him pointedly instead of going off on your tangent.

The audacity of him to show up after months of barely 3 postcards from him and a few dodgy and quick calls in the middle of night spewing all types of things about monsters and shapeshifters and both kinds of wizards.

He grabs you gently around the arms and presses a soft kiss to your lips while holding your chin between his fingers.

“Just wanted to see you, that’s all.” He says simply in that tone he uses when he wants you to let him inside. Granted, you knew you were gonna let him inside and come inside but you wanted to watch him sweat.

“I should summon rain over your head...You hungry?”

After huffing and puffing you decide to ease the screen door open fully so that he could embrace you properly.

You turn your head and his kiss lands on your cheek instead. His gaze fell upon you intensely as he caressed over your cheek where his lips had been moments before. Atticus’s gaze falls from your warm oak coloured eyes to your neck, to your collarbones, and down further where your robe was slightly open and the neckline of your silk red gown had fallen lower.

You lean in to breathe into his long black coat. The Chanel Pour Monsieur that you gifted to him before he left for the war evaded your senses. You hiss softly before smiling against him, feeling his large calloused and frigid hands run up the back of your thighs to cup under your butt and lift you onto him.

“What, you run around all summer and come back here in the winter when you're cold and lonely and realize that she wasn’t gon’ stick around? Is that it? Your summer fling is back on the road?” you question with a huff and a roll of your eyes.

He chuckles deeply and shakes his head as he walks with you still wrapped around him into your small quiet little cozy candlelit home with Ella Fitzgerald , These Foolish Things playing softly in the background.

“Town talk goes both ways, baby. I heard you were playing backseat bingo with Martin Thompson, the preacher? Really?” he questions as he licks over your neck and jawline pressing kisses along the way.

“And what is there for a lonely young woman to do when her man writes her a letter trying to rationalize falling in love with a goddamn ninetail fox. I saw Letitia coming. Seen that a mile away. I knew there would be women and men along the way for us. But, a fox, well baby you had me beat on that one. A descendant of Ayida-Weddo herself wasn’t enough? Bible Boy was good to me. He would make sure I made it home safe and sound every night from the shop. Bought me that fur coat and everything.” you say and he drops his head with a chagrined expression.

Atticus sits you down on your own two feet and looks at you for a moment. Both of his hands on your hips.

“And what did you do for him, hmm?” He asks tracing his hands over the ties of your robe letting it fall open in one swoop.

“You really wanna know?” You scoff and swat at his hands for asking such a witless and invasive question.

“I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers before lowering to his knees. He places one of your shea butter lathered feet in his hand kissing it softly before moving to the other.

Atticus wraps his strong arms around your waist and kisses your belly button.

You push his mouth from suckling open mouth kisses onto your clothed mound and saunter away from him and over to the record player.

You search through the collection until you reach Big Mama Thornton. You laugh to yourself as “Hound Dog” starts to echo throughout the room.

“You’re ever the jokester ain’t you?” Atticus says with a laugh of his own as you sway your hips to the music and dance over to him.

“Dance with me” you call out to him as he comes up behind you and you gasp at the feeling of how hard he is just from caressing you moments before.

He meets your movements grinding with a shimmy of his own as he matches your movements of doing the twist and you sway your hips flush against him. His hands ghost against your thighs again and up your body. He takes note that you’re not wearing anything under your silk nightgown.

Atticus caresses over your breasts carefully massaging over the almond coloured buds as you let out a soft moan and place your hands over his.

You turn your head to kiss him again this time less innocently than before as you guide his hands in yours and slide them down your body while never losing the beat of the song.

Goosebumps begin to pepper your skin and your breath hitches as his hands settle between your thighs. He brings his fingers to his mouth before moving between your legs again.

Atticus’s nails drag softly up your left thigh as he grips it and brings you closer to feel how he’s already hardening for you. You ride his hand for a moment trying to control your temperature that’s already too high for the average human body.

The flames of the candles dance as your excitement and wetness heightens and you tap against his thigh to warn him.

He laughs deeply as he works over your clit skillfully and methodically. “I remember” he says simply and your eyes roll back as you utter the word “out” assertively.

All of the candles burn out instantly and you revel in the feeling of his fingers treating your body and your flower like a Shenzhen Nongke Orchid.

“You’re two seconds away from making me nut in my trousers like we’re back in your dorm all over again.” he mumbles while nipping at your neck and your deep dark chestnut eyes slowly fade to a golden hue to a soft glow of scarlett red.

You nod giving him your consent as you lay over the couch. You wiggle your ass in the air , knowing that he’s watching while working his boxers down too.

He slowly works his way into you before slowly pulling out and watching his member glisten fully saturated by your nectar as he works his length up and down you before entering you again.

The little gasp you let out echoed through the room and the candles were lit again momentarily with the flames dancing around as you bury your face into the couch pillow.

He gripped your hips firmly bringing you back and down onto him as his other hand gripped your silk gown.

“Mhmmm, hmmph.” was all that left Atticus’s mouth as he sinks into your warmth the second time.

“Careful. Slowly, I don’t want to hurt you.” you rasp as he circles his hips finding the right rhythm for both of you as the little pants and shrieks fall from your lips when he pushes deeper into the right spot.

“All the times I’ve made love to you and you haven’t hurt me once. I won’t mention the time you singed off one of my eyebrows though. That was my fault, I shouldn’t have tried to wake you up like that.” he soothes as he moves your silk gown up further to massage over your back and cheeks.

His large hands soothing over and kneading the knots and kinks from standing on your feet most days doing countless amounts of roller sets and bang cuts.

“I know.” you whisper to him with a small laugh of your own. You drop your head slightly and arch your back when his hips finally rests flushed against your cheeks.

Your mouth goes slack as he picks up his pace but then pulls out.

“What the hell was that?” you question as you turn to face him.

“Just wanted to see that’s all. Wanna look at this pretty face all glossy eyed and reciting my name like a poem.” he teases as he leans in to connect his lips to yours again, this time letting his tongue glide over your bottom lip until you’re suckling it softly.

He’s massaging his dick against you slowly as you pout and huff against his lips. Your legs begin to shake slightly and you can feel yourself heating up more.

“Shh shh shh, what do you want? Use your words.” he asks as his fingertips ghost over your breasts up to the sides of your face. The chill of his hands feeling like bursts of fresh air against you.

Atticus lifts you once more to set you on the edge of the couch, his fingers tracing over your inner thighs.

“You’re really going to tease me after I’ve already waited months to feel you. I really don’t want to get Martin to finish the job especially when you have the best d-” you let out a muffled moan as he places his fingers into your mouth and thrust into you again.

You suckle his fingers, envisioning something else much bigger as he leans you on the edge of the couch and gives you what you’ve been missing for months.

Resting your forehead on his shoulder you close your eyes enjoying the feeling of being full of him.

You can feel him twitching inside of you as you begin to work down onto him, bouncing and coating his dick with you.

You caress your own body letting your hand wander to your clit , skillfully massaging as Atticus watches on.

Both of your moans and sounds of him pounding into you flows with the music as you both cry out into each other’s mouths as your orgasm rocks through you both.

Your fireplace goes out abruptly as you throw your head back and let out little uh uh mhhmmms.

Atticus leans down to place tender kisses between your breasts as he cums inside.

You slowly continue your rhythm riding out the little waves of aftershock as his hips stutter and he lets his own praises of you fall from his lips this time.

He slowly pulls out and swipes his thumb over next to your lips trying to fix your lipstick.

“Leave it, I was getting ready for a shower and the bed anyways. . . I’m sorry Atti.” you say to him softly as your fingertips trace his soft skin now donning a purple deep burgundy colour after being pressed against you for so long.

“You’ve made me feel the best I've felt all damn year. You ain't got a thing to be sorry for. I’m the one that came to apologize. I was just too bullheaded to realise that everything isn’t about just me. I regretted it the moment I got there. . The war. Ji-Ha. You finding out about Leti the way you did. It wasn’t like that in the beginning. I was supposed to go off and figure all out on my own. Somewhere down the line after you see enough crazy shit together. Things get all mixed up.. I’m sorry for all of that too. I just wanna come home. Tired of all these things that don’t make no sense when everything that makes perfect sense has been here the whole time.” he explains and you nod along listening to his words, mulling them over.

“Well you definitely scared the shit outta me… I checked that mailbox everyday for months waiting for a letter from you. And I think whatever you were searching for out there scared the shit outta you too. I think all of this made us both realise that we don’t really wanna be without each other..But next time if you’re gonna go off, play detective, and uncover some great family mystery,the smartest decision would be to take the walking fireball with you. Yeah? And who’s Christina? ” you ask him as he carries you off with him towards your bathroom.

“The dreams. I was wondering why I kept seeing snakes every day for a week. I ain't going nowhere. It’s gon’ take me all weekend just to explain all the shit I’ve seen in the last 6 months as it is-”

(not my best but i still hope yall enjoy! i’m knocking the writing rust off after a few weeks of not writing new stuff. seasonal depressive be hitting different. alright my boos x )

#lovecraft country #atticus freeman #jonathan majors #fanfic for black girls #lovecraft country fic

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badwolf-winchester · 4 years ago

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Ancient Bloodlines

Pairing: Loki x Emy Nightstar (OC)

OC Summary: Emy is the newest Avenger. She specializes in Magic and close range attacks/ weapons. Her heritage is unknown to her as she was left at an orphanage door step when she was a young girl with only the memory of her name. She goes by her nickname Emy but has never told anyone her full name as its a reminder of her being abandoned. Emy can see through any illusion and Magic no matter how powerful they are or how strong the magic is and is unaware of this. Her powers include Telekinesis, Elemental Control, True Sight (as stated above) Enhanced healing and Shifting (she wont discover this till much later in the story). She loves to read, listen to music, play violin, sing, and draw.

Story Info: Takes place after infinity wars. Tony and Natasha are alive Steven comes back from the future after giving back the infinity stones. Vision is alive and living with Wanda in the tower. Thor and Loki live in the tower with the rest of the Avengers and for the sake of the story Himedall is alive and living with the rest of the Asgardians on earth in New Asgard (you will find out why later)

One last thing: Please do not repost my work on any other site or social media, however reblogging on here is fine. I work hard on all of my fanfics and it’s disappointing when people take my work as their own. I am the creater of all my OCs such as Sora Nightstar, Emy Nightstar, and Lithium Nightstar. My inbox is open for any and all requests as i am a multi fandom writer. Let me know how you like the story and i will do my best to answer any and all questions. As always i encourage any and all feedback as it helps with my writing. I hope you all like it!

The Beginning

They say that your parents are there to teach you the rules of the world, but what happens when you have no parents? Who will teach you then? The world is cruel but people are crueler. Ive learned this first hand when the person i trusted most in this world left me on the door step of the St. Trinity’s Orphanage. I was 9 when my mother told me she didn’t want me anymore and i guess I couldn’t really blame her. I mean who could love someone who couldn’t control the powers that grew with each passing year. Someone who started fires out of thin air when they had nightmares, conjured whirlwinds when startled, unfurled earthquakes when angered, spring forth rain showers when sad, and levitate objects when riddled with anxiety. I will never forget that day for its seared into my mind like its own person brand echoing with every beat of my heart. A monster thats what she called me, her own flesh and blood was a monster in her eyes, and i could see the relief when she ran from the solid oak door finally rid of the burden she had to put up with throughout the years. An abomination she cried as she reached the cobblestone sidewalk eager to be rid of me and by the pace she was going at i could tell she had more spring in her step than on the walk over from the bus we exited from. Unnatural she bellowed as she disappeared around the corner a ghost of a smile springing from her lips as she disappeared. These where the last words i would ever hear from my mother, if thats what you would call her.

Emy’s POV

Tonight was just like any other. Crisp cold air submerged the city in a blanket of dark and silence while it settled into your bones. I never minded the cold in fact I welcomed it, it reminded me of the cabin i found one year after running away from one of the many abusive foster homes i was forced to stay with. I’ll admit it was one of the times I was able to avoid the social workers for longer than a week and the happiest I had ever been in my life up until i was captured by Hydra. When I had a flair up with my powers, which usually ended up being fire, i would immediately get sent back to St. Trinity’s but this time i ran before they had the chance to toss me aside. The staff there used to place bets on how long i would stay with a family, they would joke saying i was cursed or jinxed but i knew the truth, no one wanted me. Once the parents found out about my abilities I was sent packing. I was labeled as a flight risk and a danger to others which only deepened my anti socialism.

Walking through the streets of New York i pull my dark purple jacket on and my dark brown hair in a pony tail as I get closer to my destination. Because i don’t feel the effects of the cold weather Tony, being such the dad figure he is, has made it his priority to make sure i still wear one just incase so here i was walking home in black ripped up jeans, a black v neck T-shirt, black and purple checkered vans and a light weight dark purple jacket. With my headphones in my ears and “I like it heavy” by Halestorm blasting I make my way to the place i call home, Stark Tower. Walking through the front doors i make my way past the receptionist who always greets me with a bright smile. As I walk towards the elevator I give her a small smile back and a head nod. After entering the elevator and pressing the button for the penthouse I start to reflect on how i got here.

By the time i was 15 Hydra found me in that cabin and took me away. I went from hopping from family to family to being used as a science experiment, constantly being poked and prodded just so they could get a reaction out of me. As a child my powers where very unstable mostly flaring up with my emotions, its no wonder that Hydra caught wind of me its not like i was hiding it very well or more so that i couldn’t hide it. They tried to wipe my memory to gain control of me “a blank slate” is what they wanted, but for some reason, they failed as I wasn’t susceptible to their conditioning methods no matter how much time i spent in the chair. However, I could tell they were scared of me I could see it in their eyes. This didn’t last long though as they used what they called their perfect weapon code name Winter Soldier to beat me into submission. After that first meeting that left me with a broken arm and a fractured ankle i started to obey, since then Ive met the Soldier a couple of times but if he remembers me he dosent let on and I dont blame him, he has been in that chair so many times Im genuinely surprised he can even remember how to walk. He is stronger than the others as most of the other test subjects had turned to vegetables after the 4th mind wipe, he was on his 10th the last time i saw him with Hydra.

Another test was done on me and this one was different. They used a teseract? If thats what they called it I can’t be sure nor did I care all I could feel was pain like as if someone injected lava in my veins. After they injected me I started screaming after a while I couldn’t even hear myself anymore, my throat was so sore and horse from the constant roar of my agony I just wanted it to end. How long was I out for? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? Years? They didn’t keep clocks there or at least not in the dungeon like cell they had me in. When the fire faded i was left with this numbness and after further tests I realized that I was immune to fire. I can literally stick my hand in fire and i will be left untouched and unscorched. They did the same test with freezing temperatures to see if they could subdue me at least in some way. I must have been out longer than just a couple of days as during the tests i didn’t recognize any of the Doctors. In that moment I realized something, if they were trying to contain me then something must have happened to the soldier. It was time to plan my escape.

Back in my cell i could hear footsteps approaching me and then stop short. One of the scientists frantically trying to talk some sense into someone just out of my line of sight. “She is immune to anything we throw at her sir. We have done every test we could there is nothing left for us to do.” One of the goons in a lab coat stated to what i assumed is a higher up. “Bolden If her powers keep growing at the rate they are it could be days in which she will be unstoppable and with the soldier gone we dont have anything that can keep her in line. She broke Mandy and Rays arms the last time we tested her. She is getting too strong.” Brining a hand up to his chin the higher up Bolden stepped out of the shadows and looked at me with deep interest before he turned to looked at the man and scoffed. As he walked away i felt a cold chill ran down my back as I anticipated what was to become of me; I knew it was nothing good i had already broken their rules. His next words only confirmed what I feared. “ Its simple. Break her spirit or kill her Doctor. And when i say break her i mean in anyway means necessary.” His sadistic laugh is the last thing i remember before everything went black.

Its been 2 years since i have escaped and now I’m living in the avengers tower. I don’t remember what happened after that night in my cell its all a blur of red, screams, and gunshots. When i woke up next i was in a 6ft crater where I was being held captive without a scratch on me. Trees were uprooted and fallen over as if a bomb went off. Luckily the Avengers showed up not long after me waking up and took me to their base where i met Directer Fury. With his permission and 24/7 surveillance provided by Tony Stark via FRIDAY and training sessions to get my powers under control i was allowed to join the Avengers and fight for good. Little did i know that by agreeing to this I would end up in the path of a certain God or Gods who were also taking residence at the tower.

With the sound of a *ding* the elevator shook me out of my mind and back to the present. As i exited the elevator I pulled my head phones out of my ears and was instantly met with the sound of Tony losing his mind. “Where did she go? She knows she can’t be out this late. She could be taken again! Its 5 minutes past her curfew!” Rolling my eyes I roll my headphones up and shove them in my pocket and round the corner. “Tony it takes 5 minutes to get from the lobby to the penthouse calm down. I bet she will walk through that door anytime now.” Came the sweet voice of reason of none other than Pepper Potts. “I’m Home.” I said in a deadpan voice as i walked by the couple only for Tony to stand up and intercept me by placing a hand on my upper arm. “Where did you go and why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” I looked at him and raised an eyebrow pushing his hand off me. “Tony its Wednesday. I have training with Strange on Wednesdays and I had Friday alert you as I was leaving but you were in the lab with Bruce.” Not sure what to say next Tony mumbled a small apology. “Sorry I was just worried about you. I know you are grown enough to make your own choices as you are 25 but I just want to make sure you are safe. How was the training with The Wizard?” Sighing and shaking my head just wanting to go the library and read I decided to just let it go. “Strange is a hard ass that much you already know. It wasnt bad actually I think I’m warming up to him. I didn’t spontaneously throw him to the wall when he snuck up behind me as i was going over the ancient texts so i call that improvement.” I said sheepishly while side stepping around him. “I’m gonna go to the library now and grab some light reading before bed you guys have a good night.” With out waiting for a response I quickly made my way towards my new destination only to have Tony saying something about guests in the house but I ignored him.

Pushing open the library door I make my way to the poetry section to grab my usual copy of Edgar Allen Poe that I read before bed. As my had reached for the spot i knew i put the book in i find that its not there. “Wait what? Where is my book? I know I put it back here before I left for training so where did it go?” Frustrated I stomp back over to the entrance and rip open the door ready to go on a murder spree while shouting down the hallway. “CLINT! You better give me back my night time book or I’m breaking all your arrows again! No one reads in this tower but me! How stupid do you think I am!?” Straining my ears I listen for any type of movement but was met with dead silence. After a minute I finally hear movement through the vents coming from the west part of the tower and I take off sprinting. Sliding around a corner I barely miss colliding with Steve and Bucky who look like they were on their way back from a mission. Offering a quick apology before I continue my pursuit I hear Steve yell “Hey! No running in the tower!” Not faltering in my hot pursuit of the Hawk thief I continue to zip through the tower ignoring the Captains words until i was almost to the vent that lead to the 2 level family room. Using the railing for the steps leading down to the family area to give me more height i jumped as close to the vent as possible and conjured my signature Scythe to slice through it while twisting in the air kicking the vent free and off its track. A shocked and terrified scream resonates from the vent as the culprit falls to the ground with a thud and a grunt. I landed in a crouched position and slowly straightened to my full hight. “What the hell Emy?! When did you learn to do that?!” Clint yells as he sits up rubbing his left shoulder that he landed on. I started stalking towards him with the blade of my scythe scrapping across the ground as i went while giving him a death glare. “Give me back my book Barton.” At the mention of his last name his head snapped up to me fear replacing the pain from his fall. “Oh shit last name not good.” Scrambling up on his feet he turns and runs towards the common room that connects to the elevator with me hot on his tail and my scythe trailing behind me in my right hand.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT!!” He yells as he makes it fully to the room only to fling forward as i jump and kick his back tired of all the running. Twirling my weapon around I place it at his neck sneering at him. “I will not ask you again.” I said placing pressure on his neck with my blade. Sensing a fast moving object coming from my left from the kitchen I move my head back 3 inches as what looked like a hammer flew by me embedding itself in the wall. Turning my head slowly in the direction of the flying object, I confirmed it was indeed a hammer that was thrown at me. Irritation flared through me as i released Clint from the end of my scythe and turned fully to the kitchen to face my attacker. There stood 2 men that i did not recognize, one tall oak of a man with blond short hair, blue eyes and tan skin in blue jeans, a red T-shirt ,and grey jacket. the other shorter man made me stare at him and faultier for a second as he was so different from anyone i have ever seen, dark blue skin covered his entire body with darker almost black symbols and piercing red eyes, long black hair with black jeans, a green dress shirt and black jacket. Tearing my gaze away from his own curious one i looked between both men before i clenched my jaw letting my irritation settle back in. “Which one of you threw that hammer.” I said venom dripping with every word. “Whoa its ok Emy thats just Thor and Loki they are the asgardian Gods that live here in the tower part time when they are not in Norway.” Clint said standing up quickly. Not moving from my position i narrowed my eyes and flicked them over in Clint’s direction. The ground started to shake as my irritation and annoyance grew to anger remembering what i was doing before being interrupted by the Gods. Throwing his hands up in surrender he then quickly reached into his back pocket and retrieved my book. “Ok ok dont blow a fuse Em.” He said while tossing me my possession stopping me from causing an earthquake. Catching it in the air with my left had I inspected the book to make sure it wasn’t damaged before I let go of my scythe, with a wave of my hand it disappeared back to the pocket dimension I keep it in then looked back at Clint as the tremors stopped. “Touch my things again and i will be wearing your guts like my mom’s pashmina.” I said to the thief before walking out of the room and disappeared down the hallway not giving the Gods a second glance. As I entered my room i could hear a silky voice ring out from the kitchen. “Well isnt she interesting.”

Part 2 coming soon

@nickkie1129

#loki x y/n #loki odinson #loki series #loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki (marvel)#loki laufeyson #marvel #avengers x reader #the avengers #clint barton #tony stark #doctor strange #thor odinson #steve rogers #bucky barns #pepper potts

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itsmypeach13 · 4 years ago

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[Read only if you are okay with female &female relationships. Warning because of strong language, fighting scenes. Rating is +18]

[Hello my ravens! ❤️It's been an eternity but please welcome my second chapter of my Soma POV fanfic, things will get messy and entangled full of angst and more angst. I hope you'll like it, I spiced things up with flirty Valka and women fighting🤭 Let me know what you think in the comments any opinion/thought is welcome🥺❤️]

TALES OF THE BEAR-HEART: SOMA

CHAPTER II.

Battling Hearts

The soft crackling sound of fireflames embracing hardwood woke me up tenderly. I slowly opened my eyes and saw Revna sitting by the fire sharpening her dagger, preparing for the battle ahead of us. Her raven-black long hair was braided at the sides and neatly It must have been around dawn, but it was still pitch-black outside. Busy voices surrounded us, swords clinked, horses were running up and down impatiently, some people shouted over to the other with instructions. Valka's magical sleep potion put me so well to sleep, that I was surprised at myself how late I could join onboard the ship towards the brewing sea of bloodshed. I had to pull myself together and that only worked with some ice-cold river water and some excercise.

'Good morning Revna'-I greeted my warrior as I swiftly sat up and put on my stone-hard armor.

'To you as well.'-she wiked at me playfully and lifted up the pair of the iconic hammers fixating them on her sides. ' Now you slept well for sure, how is that you sleep the soundest when battle is so near?-she laughed a little and took a sip of water from the table.

'Valka's hand in that.-I raised my brows slightly. 'Sorry, I didn't plan to start like this Revna. I have to go now and freshen up. Shall we meet at the entrance of the longhouse?'

'You're such a womanizer you know that right?'-she held up her tusk. ' Valka is a fine woman, I am happy for you now. I will meet you there nevertheless.'

'Ha!..You're absolutely misunderstanding, but I have to rush now.'- After this conversation, the fine shilouette of Valka's back flashed through my mind from last night. I quickly stepped into reality once I was out of my hut. The Raven warriors painted their faces with red and white strokes, most of them were saddling the horses.

I hurried to the shores of the river nearby, finally allowing my flaming skin to meet with the freezing waves of water. I gathered some liquid in my palms so that I could splash it onto my face over and over again. It felt like a hit on my cheeks that put me into the right battling spirits, and imagining Randvi's head on the enemy's helped a lot also.

I did some stretching and sprinting in the shores, while sloppy waves embraced the land. I was sharpening my axe and asked for Thor's strength and blessing, when I heard cat-like footsteps from behind approaching me.

'Your blade is already sharp enough, Bear-heart'-said Valka smirking, while she walked up to me.

'I could cut down a village with it yes. I guess it's just my ritual before I actually do it.'

'I bought you some food, here, some died figs with bread and a slice of boar meat from last night.'- she kindly handed over the plate.

'Thank you Valka, the gods bless your kind spirit. This will help me to do my best today. For Ravensthorpe..and Eivor.' While I started eating quickly, we sat by the shore and Valka carried on.'

'Soma, you have to remember, whatever happens today, you can count on me, you know where to find me. I saw into your soul last night and found loneliness there. But you are not so alone.' -she stroked my arm then stood up and disappeared in the crowd of warriors.

I was startled a bit, the last piece of bread almost choked me. Was that a friendly invite to her hut? I mean, private hut? I guess she needs cleaning there if you know what I mean. Who would have thought.

***

When I rode to the longhouse, a massive crowd of warriors have gathered in front of the building. The golden locks of Eivor showed up with that deadly, stern smirk on her face. She was riding a snow-white mare with her armor glistening in the awakening morning sunrays. A huge hunnish bow spread on her broad back and two axes were fixated on her sides, one can never be so sure with just one, right? Randvi followed her closely, rumour has it that she is going in battle after long years spent in the map room. I was curious how she would perform outside these walls. Revna joined me swiftly and we quickly caught up with Eivor and other leaders riding in the front.

As if she sensed my closeness, the wolf-kissed greeted me with a wide smile.

'Morning Soma, I hope you are ready to spill some blood today with me.'

How could she know I was ready to do anything with her, my eyes wandered on those rosy lips talking to me. She looked stunning with freshly dried warpaint framing her ocean eyes.

'I will smash skulls today, as my father taught me'I assured her. ' You don't want to make it a contest, I am the champion in this.'

'We'll see, I will beat your ass.' Eivor uttering those words brought me to the depts of my wildest fantasies for a moment. Holy mother of.. A shiver went through my spine as I actually pictured this. 'Okay, whoever wins this beheading game will pay for the best ale in land for a week.'

'That's a deal, officially.'-Eivor agreed playfully.

As we left Ravensthorpe Randvi joined us to briefly go through our plans , and of course to keep an eye on her drengr.

'Hi Soma..I hope you haven't lacked the care and wealth of Ravensthorpe.'

'Thanks Randvi, I had everything I needed' except for Eivor in my bed last night, but I guess that's the VIP package. It’s good I didn’t say this out loud.

'Good. Now our plans are the following. Eivor and you will hide in the thick bushes of the main road on both sides with our archers. When Birna's army is well inside the trap, Eivor will sign you with her horn, then both of your teams will fire and wipe out as many as you can. I will wait for Eivor's horn and join with a group on horsebacks to push them back towards the hills where their camp is. We'll follow them and burn it down to force them out of mainland.

Cheolbert's army will be only used if necessary. They are stationed on the right side of the forest.'

'Smart plan Randvi, I am sure we can protect our people, which is the most important aim, I feel honoured to be here today and lead this army' -Eivor answered then we positioned our forces in the thick undergrowth of the main road. Some archers even hid high on the old oak trees to have a nice and deadly view on the road. Our eyes met with Eivor and I was once again stunned by those piercing blue eyes, radiating godlike power and trust in me. She made me weak with one stern look, this feeling was brand new for me..Soma trembling like a leaf in the autumn breeze? My eyes wandered lower, on Eivor’s bulging arms holding those big, heavy axes.

Revna positioned herself right beside me like a protective bastian ready to spill blood, her hands firmly gripping the two hammers.

’They will eat my hammer for breakfast.’-she whispered to me, keeping her voice down.

A medium group of soldiers were nearing our forces, all of them on horseback.

They were led by a young woman with blood red hair, riding on a pitch-black horse. Just before Eivor could use her horn to give the sign for us to attack them, the enemy started throwing flaming throving balls into the thick and completely dry undergrowth that caught on fire in no time. They knew exactly where we were hiding, forcing us to be distracted for a second and be stunned by their unexpected moves. Revna quickly brought me back to reality with her loud roar she jumped out of the bushes and ranted at our enemy. As if she were a deadly panther, she pulled a man down from his straddle , threw him on the ground finally smashing his face on both sides with her double hammers. What left off that head was forming an unrecognizable mixture of broken bones and flesh.

I joined her swiftly and shouted at all of my men:'Don't just stare, cut all of the bastards down and burn their flesh!' The archers could perform a swift attack from above before the flames got to the upper branches, then joined us from behind our shield wall Eivor was forming with the Ravens.

I quickly got on my horse and joined at the side of Revna, who was sandwiched between two twin shieldmaidens fighting with swords. Just before the bigger one could plunge her longsword into Revna's spine, I trapped her with my axe, agressively pulled her body to mine from behind holding her still for a moment shouting in her face: 'I will burn your whole village for this.' -then I slit her throat and pushed the body down to the dust. My face became sprayed with fresh blood, and I could see Revna kept herself busy, the other one joined her sister in death.

-Thanks Soma, I am glad you have my back, literally -Revna shouted at me with ave.

-I am never late, you know me.-I winked at her assuringly. -someone betrayed us Revna..we have to find that son of a bitch. -I shouted back while I saw a huge man charging at me with a poisoned axe.

-You will die bitch-his deep growl ecoed in my ears as I prepared for defense. I thought I would end him with my wit instead of my valuable strength, I slipped between his legs and cut right into his balls leaving him a suffering mess falling on his knees, and finally collapsing in the bloody pond forming underneath.

-Not today, bastard.-I stated. While we fought our way a little further with Revna I quickly looked behind my back to see how Eivor was holding up. Then I saw the blood-haired war-chief woman charging on her horse at full speed towards the wolf-kissed, she wanted to end Eivor. Her plan was to cut the head of the snake, I saw her green eyes burning with ambition, fury and wrath, she jumped off of her horse slamming Eivor to the ground. Unfortunately, the charging horse killed several men around Eivor failing to hold the shield wall.

I felt my heart beating in my throat , as both Eivor and that killer bitch disappeared from my sight behind the crowd of clashing soldiers.

-Revna, you have to hold this mess, I will be back!-I gave my clear orders to my right hand , and with that I ran into Eivor’s direction as if there was no tomorrow. Many men tried to stop me on my way, but I cut them all, roaring like a beast, both of my arms were drenched in blood. The inner bear has awoken. I saw Randvi charging on her horse towards the same spot, my worry mirrored in her desperate eyes. She fought like an amazon, a tiger let out of her cage , she was never really tamed behind that map table after all. I must admit she fought fiercely. Her long copper braid was dancing around in circles as she slain anyone who got near her. Unexpectedly, her horse got an arrow in the front leg, causing Randvi to fell foward harshly, she was flying several meters from the saddle. The killer-witch had supporter archers at the top of a nearby rock, they were backing their leader and her evil plans.

I didn't have time to care for Randvi, I slammed into the shield wall to see what was happening with Eivor behind it.

The blood-witch was strangling Eivor with her strong arm, Eivor had deep cuts on her own arms and her side. Fuck.. she really didn't see it coming.. oh that fucking bitch ! Eivor wanted to kick her in the face but her legs were entangled in strong hold by that serpent. She fought differently, wrestled her enemy, held the body in position to slowly end it with deadly cuts. I couldn't let her finish her work..my heart would break in two for an eternity..

I grabbed her hair pulling her upwards, while I watched her cry out from the pain.

-Hey, you blood whore, don't you dare to move or I will cut your pretty head off. Eivor broke free swiftly, but instinctively put her right hand on her ribs. I saw a considerable blood stain growing there, which felt like a punch in my stomach. It seemed I actually got one, as the redhead tried to break away. Just before I could end her, I felt a powerful but blunt hit on my back, an arrow's burning head fought it's way into my flesh. I instantly fell on my knees then I started to crawl on the ground ghasping the dust.

Eivor didn't give a fuck about her serious wound on her side she ran towards that sly whore to avenge this mess. Randvi arrived just in time her huge smash with her shield put the escaping rat onto the ground. The blood-witch was cornered and there was no way out. My sight became blurry and I wanted to vomit from the pain that radiated into my chest and my back.

'Tie this one up quickly, we'll inerrogate her at Ravensthorpe. Randvi instructed two soldiers. -Oh God..Eivor you're bleeding-she mumbled with care as she stepped to the wolf-kissed, her eyes wandered on the huge blood stain. Randvi's bottom lip was craked and bleeding, probably from a huge stroke.

'I am fine Randvi, bring our forces left to safety, we have to retreat, now' Eivor's raspy voice echoed, turning to Randvi. 'I can only thank my life to Soma' Eivor hurried to me while Randvi called a retreat to Ravensthorpe, we could defend the way from the woods but it was clearly a trap. Somebody gave valuable information to the enemy, Birna and Ivarr could attack any moment.Both sides lost countless men, the woods was in flames around us.

'My poor bird..' Eivor whispered calmly, holding me in her arms in a second sitting on her knees on the ground. She turned my body really slowly to spare me from the additional pain, I could have screamed out loud in my despair, but I couldn't show the slightest sign of weakness while she was around me.

'I m have to get this out now' she said apologetically, furrowing her brows.

I couldn't speak as I felt my power leaving me, I was close to fainting, so I just nodded and let myself concentrate on those strong arms being folded around me. This was the closest Eivor ever got to me.. my heart was burning and beating fast both from the trauma I endured and the excitement that was ruling over me inside.

'I will be as quick and gentle as possible'Eivor promised with a light smile.

I held onto her arm and mumbled a few words:'Just do it, please..' I closed my eyes knowing what will come.

Eivor clearly had pratice in this, as she firmly held onto the arrow, turned it slightly in my flesh, then pulled it out with a powerful move.

It felt as if a burning blade was turned inside me ripping out my flesh. The pain was undescribable with words, I cried out, my eyes became blurry with tears.

'Fucking GOD' I shouted.

'The worst is over Soma, I promise. I can thank my life to you, so I am in your debt, I will help you through this and bring you to Valka.' Eivor lifted me up, placed one of my arms around her neck and holding my weight with her arms below my knees. ' 'I got you now -she gently stroked my arm and carried me to her horse, we headed back to Ravensthorpe with our forces left , following Randvi's soldiers.

As we rode along those old oak trees I could feel the sweet scent of Eivor's skin around her collarbone as I laid my head on her broad chest. Small sweatdrops were glistening on her perfect face while her ice-blue eyes stayed focused on the road, I could watch this living statue of perfection all day.

Spring breeze played on my cheeks while I closed my eyes to just feel the bumps and turns of the road.

I couldn't get a peaceful monent as my thoughts caused me an inner turmoil. Where the hell was Revna? Did she join to Randvi and her forces? How am I supposed to fight like this? The hardest part of this battle is still ahead of us..I came here to defend Ravensthorpe, not to behave like a whining child. And who was that blood-haired shieldmaiden?

***

#ac eivor #eivor #eivor wolfkissed #female eivor #lady eivor #assassin's creed valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #ac soma #somabearheart #soma jarlskona #eivor x soma #randvi #ac valhalla fanfic

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erotikkook · 4 years ago

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royal blood || prologue

☾⊹ 𝗿𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗹 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 || 𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗹!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ☾⊹ 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗿𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗹 𝗮𝘂 ☾⊹ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟭.𝟰𝗸 ☾⊹ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 — 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 ☾⊹ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗺𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗻𝘁; 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝗿; 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀/𝗸𝗶𝗱𝗻𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 ☾⊹ 𝗮/𝗻: 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗺�� 𝗯-𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘀𝗼? 𝘆𝗮𝘆? 𝗜'𝗺 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄!

Flinging the blankets off your bed, you groaned into your pillow. No matter how comfortable your king-size bed was, your back remained persistently stiff. You would've liked to blame it on the relentless amount of online tutoring you received daily, your back hunched uncomfortably over the desk that sat in the very corner of your room. Finally, though, despite the pain etching itself into the base of your spine, you heaved yourself forward and up.

"Give me water. It should be on my dresser." You grumbled. Grimacing in pain, you waited for Hye Jin, your latest maid and probably the most inept servant you'd had to date, to hand you your water glass.

You eyed her warily as she tilted the glass in her grasp, precariously allowing water to slosh over the rim and onto your floor. "You know if you put two hands on the glass, you'd be less likely to spill it everywhere."

Hye Jin bowed apologetically, sending another stream of water onto your carefully made bedspread. The droplets wound down the edge of your silken sheets, tucking themselves between your layered mattress.

"I-I'm so sorry-"

"Forget it," you muttered, reaching out to take the partially empty glass from between her soft hands. "You can leave."

She turned on the base of her heel. You didn't watch her leave. Shaking the leftover water from your fingertips, you winced. You'd have to get someone in your room to clean up later — you didn't want anything to get stained, especially your sheets. They'd cost you a small fortune. You arched your back one last time, taking the first few steps out of bed. You gingerly made your way to the closet at the opposite end of your bedroom, careful not to let the old wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet.

"Are you sure we have to do this again? I've told you twice now; a matrimonial banquet is outdated to the point where it's almost laughable. Can't I just live peacefully on my own? It's not like I'll be crowned a ruler anyway." The smell of your omelet had you almost salivating — not that you'd ever let it show, of course — you'd be scolded for improper table manners.

"Don't be silly. You'll have just as much of a place in the kingdom as Namjoon. If anything, you and your spouse will be a wonderful addition to the council." With a wave of her hand, your mother dismissed your worry, a demure smile forming on the edges of her face.

You don't want a spouse. Before you could force yourself to refute, you felt a grip at the edge of your kneecap.

Namjoon bent towards you, breath ghosting the shell of your ear, "If you open your mouth, you'll be grounded for weeks. We'll speak after breakfast."

Grunting, you leaned back, curling your hands into your lap. "I'll keep that in mind, mother."

Namjoon's pacing hadn't gotten any better, and frankly, it was rather annoying. You were sure he'd eventually burn a hole into the floor of your bedroom.

"For the love of God — stop." The grip of your fingers against the broad expanse of his shoulders restricted his movements. He sighed against the chill of your fingertips, relocating to the cushioned chair beside your bed.

"I want to send you away." There was silence.

"Send me away? Why?" You choked. "I won't threaten your rule, I promise. I don't even want a seat on the counc-"

"I know how badly you want freedom and, if you'll give me a chance to explain," he threw a carefully pointed look in your direction before continuing, "I'd tell you about what I have in mind."

"Sorry, I won't stop you again, continue." You moved to the edge of your bed, careful to avoid the wet patches from earlier that morning. You'd told the head maid about it directly after breakfast. You supposed she hadn't gotten around to it yet.

"A group of my friends — magic users — spend a lot of time traveling. They'd be able to take you far enough away. I want you to come back eventually, but you need to stay out of trouble right now. Mother and father probably didn't tell you, but Kroydia [1] has threatened our kingdom with war again."

"Kroydia? Again?" Kroydia had been trying to start a war with your kingdom for ages. Your parents have managed to avoid confrontation until recently. Still, patience from both sides was vastly transparent, and everyone — you included — had been expecting conflict for some time.

"I think they mean it this time. Not that Kroydia didn't mean it the other times, but now it just seems so, I don't know, real. Like, they'll come to break down our walls and won't stop until they've conquered."

"You know, as much as I admire your will, it'll never do you any good to just protect me. You wouldn't come too?" You moved closer, playing with the hem of your knit shirt, something your mother gifted you the day of your twenty-first birthday.

"As much as I'd love to, you know Mother and Father would completely break apart if we both disappeared. Not to mention, I'm trained to fight. You were too frail as a child, and you never had the opportunity to learn the way I did."

He was right, of course. You'd been an incredibly ill child, which led to your parents putting more pressure on Namjoon to perform his duties as the eldest. That was something you'd always felt was wrong. Your parents always put so much care into you that they'd barely paid attention to Namjoon's well-being.

Looking up to meet your brother's eyes, you steeled yourself. You knew what you have to do, not just for yourself, but for the sake of your brother and parents, perhaps even the kingdom too. "I'll go. Tell me what to do."

The two of you had concocted a plan. Well, it was more Namjoon's plan than your own. He'd always more strategic than you when it came to these kinds of things — not that you attempted to flee all that often.

〤

"You'll meet Jimin at the back entrance to the kitchen. Knock thrice, and he'll know it's you. We'll enact this plan after supper — when everyone has finished cleaning up and is preparing for bed."

"Jimin? As in the head of the guard? Are you sure he won't tell our parents about this? He's sworn himself to the crown."

He'd only smiled, a grin playing at the edges of his lips. "But to which crown? There's more than one, isn't there?"

〤

You'd need to leave everything behind. You needed to vanish — no trace of you could be left behind. You can do this; just breathe. You'll be safe. Doing as your brother instructed, you knocked thrice, making sure to keep them loud enough to be heard but quiet enough not to alert the staff milling around the hallways. The door cracked open, Jimin's face appearing through a sliver in the door. He breathed a sigh of relief, creaking it open ever-so-slightly.

You could see him fully now. His hair, which was a dark brown, was pulled back in waves. He eyed you wearily, his bright brown eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly.

"We don't have much time. Your father likes to patrol the gardens mid-evening."

At that, you shimmied through the opening, huffing at the tight fit. Once you slipped through, Jimin turned a key into the lock situated to the left of the oak door — it was one-way like many of the doors leading to the castle's exterior — and twisted the doorknob to check that the lock was secure.

"Come on, Taehyung's waiting."

Taehyung was probably one of the most attractive men you'd ever seen. His face was almost all lines — cut and chiseled as if meticulously designed. His nose was especially attractive, delicately pointed, and sitting perfectly against the rest of his features.

"-oming or what?" He was close. He must've moved while you were lost in thought. "Are you coming or what? We don't have all day."

Not trusting yourself to speak, you inclined your head in affirmation, nervously glimpsing at Jimin, who stood to your right.

"I'll let your brother know you were given to Taehyung safely, your highness." Leaning forward, Jimin bowed.

"Thank you, Jimin." You'd never been one to crave something you'd ought to leave behind. Still, though, as you gazed at the castle that towered over you in all its immense glory, you were somehow inclined to yearn for all the things that you've never accomplished.

〤〤

[1] Kryodia - Kroydia is the name of the kingdom to the South of the Kingdom of Fuylis — which is the kingdom that your parents rule over

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wolfish-trickster · 4 years ago

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Lost traveler

5/?

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 1 573

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld

Summary: A mysterious traveler visits Asgard and thanks to an accident has to stay for longer than she expected. Bonds are created but also shattered along the way.

A/N: reader has elemental powers, something like avatar the last airbender.

Sun was finally setting. Chirping of birds was replaced by owls howling. A cold breeze ruffled your hair. The entire forest became calmer. You loved it.

You wanted to be alone for a few while and enjoy the tranquility of the night time. So you volunteered to gather wood for bonfire.

Unfortunately Thor and Fandral went with you, more to show off their muscles than help you. Both of them were....odd. They wanted to be around you all the time, telling you of their strength and abilities (Thor wanted to show you some of his lightnings but got quickly turned down by Loki) and generaly tried to impress you.

You soon found out that Thor is a god of thunder, not a lightning thrower like you previously thought. Loki was god of mischief and chaos.

Sif told you she was to be the goddess of fertility but thretened you to keep it a secret

The rest were also gods, but they didn't have a certain domains like princes. They were just warrior gods.

When you returned with arms full of twigs and branches Loki, Volstagg, Hogun and Sif were already sitting around a circle made from stones. Loki jumped to help you and all of you started to place one branch after another inside the stone circle.

"I will lit it," Thor annoumced after you finished.

"Thor, I already told you, your powers are unstable. You can't use them otherwise you will hurt everybody around you!" Loki scolded him.

"Relax, it will be alright. Everybody, stay back," Thor pushed you behind him as his fingers started to sparkle. Suddenly a loud noise teared through the air as a giant lightning striked from the sky. But to a nearby tree, not the fire place.

"Perfect Thor, just perfect," Loki took out the fire from the burning tree with his magic. He played around with flames a little while longer. You watched him transform them into a bird and make it fly around you. You giggled at his tricks.

"Show off," Thor spat

"Look who's talking. I'm not the one who took off his shirt whenever she was watching," Loki grinned.

You ignored them and their argument. Your fingers were itching. You desperately wanted to firebend, but you couldn't. Not yet.

Sif nudged you. "They are like giant kids, aren't they?"

"Siblings argue. It's like their specialty," you shrugged.

"You seem like a sibling professional. Do you have one?"

You watched as Loki made the bonfire inbetween arguments. "No, but I met a lot of them on my travels," you both sat down as did the others.

"Speaking of travels, can I ask you something?" Hogun sat to your other side.

"Sure."

Loki plopped down directly opposite of you. "If you want to know where she is from, she won't tell. I tried," he smirked at you.

"I can't reveal everything the first day! Gotta keep some of my secrets," you laughed.

"That was not what I wanted to know. I meant to ask you if you've been to Midgard?" Hogun brought your attention back to him.

"Depends on what it looks like."

"Well," he began, "it's full of forests, animals, small stone villages,-"

"Don't forget mortals," Thor interrupted.

"Mortals?"

Thor nodded. "Aye. They are small, weak, quite dumb."

"From what I've read," Loki slipped in, "they aren't dumb. They are just slow learners."

Thor rolled his eyes. "Where's the difference?"

"The difference is, dear brother mine, that you only have to tell them once to not use their powers."

Thor showed him what you suspect to be a lewd gesture. In response Loki blew him a kiss.

You giggled. "No, I don't think I've been there. Why are you asking? Have you visited it?"

All of them shooktheir heads. "The Allfather forbade us to travel across the nine realms. He says we aren't old enough."

"Oh," you sighed.

"May I ask Astrid?" Volstagg broke the silence. "What is the most interesting place you've visited," Volstagg took his chance

You thought for a while. All of the planets are interesting in their own way. "Hmmm, I don't know. One of the more exciting planets has to be Pandora I guess. I have stayed there with a Na'vi clan and they showed me how to hunt and survive in woods. There are giant mountains hovering in the air with beautiful waterfals and the whole planet glows at night and there are dragons and giant wolves and spiritual trees," you counted down from memmory.

"Sounds exciting indeed. I must visit it someday," Loki mused.

"You must! It's really easy to find it. It's a blue planet rotating around a gas giant."

"So it is techicaly a moon, correct?"

"Yeah, it is," you said excitedly. You finaly had someone to talk to. Frigga was right, you will find a friwnd among them.

"Booo, nerds," Sif made fun of you two. "Now tell me, are at least these Na'vi guys handsome and strong? You can hardly find any good material among this," she gestured to boys sitting around fire.

"I will preted I haven't heard that," Fandral brushed his fingers through his hair.

"If you are into blue giants," you shrugged.

The atmosphere changed suddenly. It was no longer lighthearted and playful. All of them had a stone hard cold stare. You shifted in your seat. Did you say something wrong?

Thor coughed. "We don't really get along with blue giant folk," he fisted chunks of grass by his sides.

"What you just described wasn't Jotunheim, was it?" Hogun asked.

"It can't be. Jotunheim is a frozen piece of a rock. She said Pandora has floating mountains and rivers," Loki burried his dagger into earth at his feet.

"Are there also blue giants on Jotunheim?" you chose your words carefully.

"Yes, it's the land of Frost Giants. Monsters we talk about at night."

Hogun cleared his throat. "I have seen the injury they cause. On one soldier a long time ago. His whole arm was frozen and black as coal. I heard aome healers in halls talking abouthis whoel arm falling off when they touched it."

"They say," Thor said in a dark tone, "they know a secret passage through realms. And one day, they will invade Asgard and freeze everyone in their path. When they comw here, I swear to all my ancestors I will-"

His telling interrupted a distant screech from mountain which startled everyone. It sounded familiar, you just didn't know where from.

"I think that's a cue to shift to another story," Sif said.

"Agreed," everyone said simultaniously.

~~~

Cracking wood lulled everybody to sleep. After hours and hours of war stories and forgotten legends one by one young warriors and a traveler laid to get rest.

Loki had a light sleep. His mind was still wrapped around Frost Giants. How theymight enter Asgard any second and slaughter them all in their sleep. If what Thor told was true.

A sound of someone standing up and walking away woke him completely. He knew how each person's step sounded, this was unfamiliar one. 'Where are you going little traveler?'

He stood up and followed you, hidden in shadows.

You stopped near a river deep in the forest. Asgardian moon shone bright in its water.

He watched you sit down next to it and stare at the night sky through oak leaves.

Just as he wanted to walk towards you, you started to play with little droplets of water in the air.

"What a turn of events," you dropped them upon hearing his voice.

"Loki, you- why are you up? Did I wake you?"

"No," he sat down next to you, "you didn't."

You started to fidget with your fingers. "How much did you see?"

"Enough. Why didn't you tell me you were a sorcorer as well?"

"A what?"

Loki chuckled. "You called me a warlock, remember? We call those who deal with magic sorcorers. One of their ability is aquakinesis."

"Huh?" you looked so cute when you were confused. Loki made note to confuse youmore often.

"Water control."

"Oh, sorry. I call it waterbending."

Loki hummed. "Makes sense."

"Sooo," you looked at him, "are you going to tell them?" you pointed towards where the group was sleeping.

"Why would I? It's your power. Your secret. You tell them when you are ready. But," he pulled a ball of water from the river and held it above his palm, "I can teach you more of that waterbending than just control few droplets. If you'd like me to, that is."

You smiled. "I'd like that. Oh and by the way," you looked to side and scratched your head, "Astrid isn't my real name."

"I know."

"What?" you looked at him startled.

"I can tell when people are lying, and you," he placed his palm on your shoulder, "are a terrible liar," he chuckled.

Your giggle joined his. "Sounds fair. Anyways, I'm Y/N," you axtended your hand.

Loki took it in his own and bowed his head. "Pleasure to meet you Y/N. I am Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief," and hopefully he can add 'your friend' to the list of titles.

#loki x reader #loki odinson #loki #thor odinson #loki fluff #young loki #young thor

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gstqaobc · 4 years ago

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🇨🇦🇬🇧🇨🇦STOP THE PRESSES🇬🇧🇨🇦🇬🇧

STOP PRESS: We thought you'd be delighted to hear that, thanks to members’ generosity, our first advertising about the League for many years in La Belle Province appeared today in the leading newspaper of Quebec City, Le Soleil. If you would like to receive a pdf copy of the ad, please request by return email. ECOMM 8.5.21 A JUBILEE BLESSING...OUR THANKS... LEAGUE FLAGS - again available LEAGUE TARTAN SCARF - update and last but not least A SPRING SALE OF MONARCHICAL ITEMS PLATINUM JUBILEE MEDAL Our thanks to the many members who told us they have contacted their MP and the Prime Minister’s office to express their support for the issuance of this Medal in the Canadian tradition. We look forward to hearing of replies any of you may receive; and we ask you keep up the chain of advocacy by thinking of friends to whom you can send our original message, and urge then to participate in our efforts. A BLESSING ON THE QUEEN IN THE IROQUOIAN TRADITION A member of the UEL Association who is a Kanienkehaka Embassador at Large, wrote to the League as follows: Please remember our Mohawk members, who would like to express our good wishes and thanksgivings to our Sister. You may be familiar with our ceremonial blessings, and the thanksgiving address to be offered before all matters; it is an Iroquoian custom:

Next year marks the 70th Anniversary of The Queen’s reign. Our Monarchy has never before seen a Platinum Jubilee! Thus the occasion calls for celebration, thanksgiving and above all, a sense of gratitude and unity. LEAGUE FLAGS NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER AT DISCOUNTED RATE With hundreds of new members in recent months, the League has received a number of requests as to when we will re-issue the League Flag. Part of our Armorial Bearings, it bears a Royal Crown by personal permission of Her Majesty The Queen. Produced for many years by our friends at the Flag Shop, it is ideal for your den or boathouse, a kid's bedroom, college dorm - with grommets so it can if you wish also be flown on a flag pole outdoors Its dimensions are 24 x 42 inches, and it is made of 200d nylon. We order and keep only a limited stock, so as not to tie up funds in inventory, as it is a specialty item. PRE-PRODUCTION SPECIAL: $85 INCLUDES POSTAGE LIMIT: TWO PER MEMBER If you wish to reserve a Flag (we should receive it in around three weeks) kindly access the League’s online store at https://store.monarchist.ca/en/products and make a “Fighting Fund” donation for $85. We will know your purpose, and get a Flag right off to you once we have received them. THE LEAGUE’S TARTAN SCARF Progress Report Thanks to our friend Matthew Rowe, who runs the Prince of Wales-patron Campaign for Wool in Canada, we have located a UK manufacturer who is willing to manufacture scarves in a small quantity by commercial standards. The fine Tartan chosen by you, and designed by our member Carol Martin, will be woven of wool, sized 180cm (app 70 in) X 30cm (app 11½ in) with tassels of 7cm (app 2 3/4 in). We will approve the cloth material this coming week. It appears a custom label may be expensive given the quantity required - we will do our best to resolve that issue and deal with somewhat tiresome but important details remaining, such as the method of shipping to Canada and potential duty and taxes. It is our hope to come up with firm pricing in June, and shortly after to solicit pre-orders within the price range acceptable to the several hundred members who expressed interest in a scarf. All of which is to say - we are on track, and look forward to producing and getting to you the League’s first - and long overdue - piece of apparel suitable for both women and men! AND NOW.... WHAT (SOME OF) YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR... OUR SPRING SALE! These monarchical souvenirs, for one reason or another not suited to our annual Silent Online Auction in September, have been donated to the League in recent months. Many would be suitable for young people to interest them in the Monarchy and history. IF YOU WANT TO PURCHASE AN ITEM/ITEMS, PLEASE CONTACT US FIRST TO MAKE SURE YOUR CHOICES ARE STILL AVAILABLE. WE WILL THEN CALCULATE THE POSTAGE APPLICABLE TO YOUR ORDER, AND GIVE YOU A LIMITED TIME TO PAY ONLINE VIA THE LEAGUE STORE, THE ONLY FORM OF PAYMENT FOR THIS SALE, BEFORE MAKING THEM AVAILABLE TO THE NEXT MEMBER REQUESTING. 1) THREE CORONATION 1953 MAGAZINES The Sphere, Illustrated, and The Illustrated London News, lovingly used condition, each telling the story of the Coronation as only the British can do! The advertising is fascinating, too. These will be enjoyed as living images and texts describing the beginning of a glorious Reign! $20 2) SIX ROYAL SOUVENIR PUBLICATIONS Maclean’s magazine’s tribute to Diana on her death; Pitkin glossy colour booklet Charles and Diana’s Wedding day; The Queen’s Silver Jubilee Pitkin-sized booklet; another similar-sized booklet by Ronald Allison: The Queen - The Life and Work of Elizabeth II; Illustrated London News Royal Year 1986; Illustrated London Newscoverage of The Marriage of Princess Anne, 1973. $25 3) HMY BRITANNIA POSTER Sized app. 16 x 20 inches, a glossy photographic portrait (2002) of The State Rooms aboard Britannia. Especially appropriate now that the Yacht is, in a way, to be replaced by the HMS Prince Philip. In a tube with Britannia-watermarked tissue paper and a gold Britannia seal, we suspect it was sold at the resting place of the ship, now a tourist attraction. Some water stains. Will need to be dry mounted to remove creases from rolling, after which it will occupy pride of place in a den, a kid’s bedroom or a man cave! $25 4) A CRAZY FUN ITEM: COLOUR RUBBER 3-D DIANA KEYCHAIN You will never lose your keys with this app 1 3/4 inch high rubberized moulded Diana key chain! We’ve not seen anything like it previously. You might well use it - or display it as a sure conversation-starter on a shelf, perhaps next to a bobbling Queen! $20 5) SILVER JUBILEE MEDALLION & CHARLES AND “LADY DIANA SPENCER” WEDDING CROWN Both 1 1/2 inch diameter. Gold-coloured Souvenir medallion bears profile of The Queen, 1977, with a surround referencing the Jubilee. The Crown, encased in a plastic holder by the Westminster Bank, is official coinage from 1983, with the usual image of The Sovereign on front, and verso, a profile of Charles and Diana with a surround referencing the occasion and year. $25

(the mark on the Royal Arms is not a defect, but a seller's sticker that is not on our plate)6) UNUSUAL, RATHER-MODERN IN DESIGN, SOUVENIR PLATE FOR SILVER JUBILEE - BY WEDGEWOOD A heavy 10" plate produced by Wedgewood in 1977, respectful and colourful, but, in our view, not really “traditional” and thus of special interest. A deep blue silhouette of Thhe Queen in centre, surrounded by the Garter motto, with tne lancets extending which depict Heralds, Guardsmen and elements of the Household Cavalry and one Royal Shield surmounted by the Crown. Many decorative flowers, Rim references the Jubilee and states “God Save The Queen.” Crimson tracery surrounds the plate. Condition: as new $35 (The picture is the Van Dyke etching of the King, whose image appears in the framed print offered below)

7) A CANADIAN-FRAMED PRINT OF KING CHARLES ENGRAVING After the original by Van Dyke, the engraving from the original owned by the Earl of Pembroke, it is unusually but attractively framed, we believe in pine, ready to hang, with modern “Art handmade Plaque Canada” sticker on back. The entire object is app 10 x 13 inches, with the engraving proper about 5 ½ x 10 inches. Condition - engraving darkened by age but distinct; frame: excellent; print: slight water-stain foxing at bottom adds authenticity rather than detracting from the overall appearance. $50 8) BOOK: CHARLES & DIANA VISIT CANADA Vivid colour pictures, hardback, published by Collins, and covering many moments from the Royal couple’s 17-day first visit to Canada in 1983. Condition: excellent. $15 9-14) LIVING HISTORY: DRY-MOUNTED ROYAL PHOTOGRAPHS From the collection assembled by the federal government in Diamond Jubilee year, these are terrifically “usable” as, hard mounted without “frames” they are light in weight - and ready-to hang in your den, or child’s room, or to fill a wall with multiple pictures! All are app 10 x 14 inches b&w unless noted otherwise. We will advise you of the postage cost at time of your inquiry, as this varies considerably depending on your postal code. If anyone wishes to purchase all seven of these at a favourable price, please contact us immediately. 9. In colour: Prince Edward in his late teens, a broad smile on his face as he leans against an oak and relaxes on autumn leaves with his Labrador Retriever. $15 10. Front cover of Paris Match depicting The Queen returning in the Golden Coach from her Coronation, Orb and Sceptre displayed, and Prince Philip by her side. $20 11. Princess Elizabeth on the telephone in her office at Buckingham Palace, 1946. $15 12. In colour: The Good King, George VI of late, happy and beloved memory, wearing a tan jacket - a reflective portrait on the grounds of Buckingham Palace. $25 13. The Princesses Elizabeth & Margaret Rose, probably just after the war, looking ready to go out for an evening in lovely beaded formal dresses. $20 14. Our favorite of this tranche of pictures. Colour shot of the Royal Family, shortly after the War, in the Palace Gardens. The King, The Queen and the Princesses are seated on wicker chairs - with Elizabeth’s dog beside her. This happy family - “we four” - exemplifies the bequest of a happy, close family life that made our Queen such an extraordinary person. $30 15. Colour 3/4 length study of a beaming Princess Elizabeth, hands clasped in front, on her 19th birthday. $25 16. The shade of the Abdication not yet visible, this 1936 picture shows the future King and Queen as Duke & Duchess of York at the door of their Piccadilly residence, with a serious-looking Elizabeth holding her Mother’s forearm. $25

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE BEING A PROUD MEMBER OF THE MONARCHIST LEAGUE OF 🇨🇦 CANADA 🇨🇦

💜🙏🏻🙂✝️💟PG💟✝️🙂🙏🏻💜

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

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sewnblade · 4 years ago

Text

The Manslayer

A/N HI GUYS.... this is new for me. mainly just doing this to have an outlet for my self indulgent bullshit. <3 might do a few chapters of this but IDK??

TW: anything you’d see on peaky blinders is game. nothing graphic happens in this at all, but references to murder, parent death and abuse.

Humans- real ones- wouldn't conduct themselves this way.

Wouldn’t have had to be locked away, thrashing and cursing, in his office. Wouldn’t be passed out on the firm oak top of his desk, curled up with stocking feet, muddied on the bottom, torn, drooping over the side.

But here you are. Whiskey still acrid on your lips, the ghost of a cigarette stale on the back of your tongue. What does that make you?

Papers, ledgers and notes, a mess beneath you. He wouldn’t be happy. The drunken spectacle itself was frustrating, but not unheard of. Not remotely unheard of, for anyone in his life. But you know how he feels about the sanctity of his space, and how he’d deal with almost anybody else invading it like this.

Though- to be fair- it had been Polly that had turned the key.

There, unconscious and blessedly quiet, your mind passes through dim, malformed memories, watching them like a picture show someone has made of your past without having lived it. The villains laughable and overacting, the blood made of syrup and wine. In one of them, Tommy even shows up in time.

That’s out of place enough to wake you up.

Raising heavy eyelids, you can make out the flash of a lighter before you can piece together the man behind it. He’s sitting as he so often is- somehow at once slouching and as poised as a Greek statue, a sullen boy hewn in marble and timeless. Taking in the measure of you, of your state- and God, it is a state- he huffs through his nose and swirls his whiskey. “We’re going to have this conversation again, are we?” he drawls around his cigarette, a slight strain in his voice as he leans forward to pull a crumpled sheet of paper free from beneath your knee.

His tone is unreadable.

“Wh’time is it?” you dodge, making a show of propping yourself up on one arm, rubbing your eyes.

He doesn’t answer at first, taking a drag, but after a moment his half-lidded gaze finally turns to the side, towards the shop, and he motions similarly with his glass. “Well, late enough they’ve all fucked off, if that’s your worry.”

“It’s not,” you snipe back.

Unfazed, Tommy closes his eyes and raises his eyebrows for a moment in what is as close to a shrug as you’re likely to get. As much as you care about him- as much as you should feel comfortable around those eyes- every time they close there’s a flood of relief. A moment of shelter in a torrential wind that batters you, fights its way into the gaps in your coats and your stockings. Makes you turn your head away, squint your eyes so hard you can’t see where you’re going anymore. “You staying up there, then?” he asks, his demeanour not altogether unfriendly.

“Well,” you venture, finally sitting up, “every moment I’m up here is a moment you’ve got to talk to me.” A little grin, almost too small to notice, and you test the waters. “I’m sat on your numbers.”

He acknowledges you with a lazy ‘hmmh’ of agreement and leans back in his seat again. “You’ve cut all your hair off,” he observes, as though he hadn’t seen it the second he walked in. As though Arthur hadn’t barked the knowledge at him when he’d discovered you taking up as a working girl. The last time Tommy had seen your hair it was long and coveted, thick, softened with oils and pulled into a long, loose plait. Now, chopped blunt below your cheekbones, the curls hang in your eyes and do as they please.

“That's right,” you agree, trying not to sound defensive. “Men recognising me was bad for business. No one wants to fuck a—“ you catch yourself, and risk a quick look at him. Somehow, even perched on his desk with him sprawled in his chair beneath you, you’re still looking up at him. The incongruity leaves you a bit dizzy. “-well. Get a reputation as a manslayer,” you spit that word out like a mouthful of blood halfway through a boxing match, “and suddenly the men go shy.”

There is a flash of something old and scarred-over in his morning-mist eyes as they flick back to you, gaining his undivided and unpretentious attention for the first time that night. Christ, for the first time that month. He gestures at you, accusing, with his cigarette. “And I’m not paying you enough to let them stay shy? Is that it?”

You can feel the warm flush creeping up from beneath the collar of your dress, spilt wine leeching through a tablecloth. A beat, and you open your mouth to respond, but the thousand things you want to say to him are withering and retreating under his scrutiny. You’d fought for weeks for him to talk to you straight, and now that you had it, the words were quicksilver through your fingers. Instead, all you can manage is “can I have a drink please, Tom?” It's weak. Tentative.

In one motion, Tommy knocks back the rest of his whiskey, and clinks your glass together with his in pinched fingers to pull them toward the bottle. “From what I hear, it’s the drink that caused all this,” he replies. You’re not sure whether he means the mess you’ve made of his office, or the scene you made in the betting shop, or the state of your life- he’d be right in any instance, but he pours the drink regardless and sets it down again. “That was a rhetorical question, by the way,” he adds. “At the rates I’m giving you, you must be the only whore in Birmingham just doing it for the love of the job.”

You bristle. It was meant to hurt, and it did. “And what other job shall I get, Tom? Ay?” you finally fire back, hands gripping the edge of the table. “No one decent will hire me ‘cause of— ‘cause of what happened, and no one indecent will hire me ‘cause you’ve made it very fucking well known I’m tainted stock, by order of the Peaky fucking Blinders!”

His hand, still holding his cigarette, squeezes between his eyes. “You want for nothing, (Y/N),” he says, his voice tired and straining. You know that catch in his throat- he’s been shouting all day. Shouting, cigarettes, spirits, repeat. If he’s lucky, inhale some gunsmoke and furnace backdraft in between. He could be a baritone with that voice of his, could have sung for crowds. “I’ve seen to it, I’ve fucking seen to it—“ he’s raising his voice now, crescendoing, and you can feel the crowd swelling with him. Then, all of a sudden, he changes tack and the volume of his voice drops. “You don’t need a fucking job, you need to be looked after- and I’ve fucking well done that for the last three years,” he says, seething, and it's almost a complaint. He's trying to get the words out before you can object, and he can see your objection mounting.

Like clockwork, your indignation escapes you in a breathy laugh. “I need to be what? That’s fucking rich coming from you, Thomas Shelby. The last time I needed to be looked after, you showed up just in time to miss everything. I did it all. All of it.” After it leaves your mouth, tumbling, flooding out, you regret it immediately. It tears at you on its way out, the regretful sting of a honeybee. And as infuriating as it is, you hear your voice wavering, feel your face tightening.

For a moment, Tommy looks at you- really looks at you. Not coolly, not strategising or trying to put you in your place. And you know he can see through you, down to the churning, violent, black void you choke down every day. The dark hollow, the bottomless-sea eyes of someone who has taken human life, someone who has been harmed permanently, someone who walks among humans but is no longer one of them. You know, because when he lets you see it, you can see it straining to escape from the pits of his pupils as well. War had happened to him, being a Blinder had happened to him. Your father had happened to you.

And in return, you had happened to your father.

“So, fine,” he relents, and with a blink he’s managed to obscure the dark portal again. There’s only the frozen, windswept wasteland of his gaze. “You don’t want the money, you don’t have to take it.”

“It’s not about the money, Tom,” you argue, and are loathe to hear it come out in a whine. “It’s about— it’s about trying to live as a ghost in this city. Just an open, needy mouth, a parasite. You're the only people who will talk to me, and even you don't want to talk to me. It’s not fair on you, and it’s not fair on me. And I know you loved him, and I know I took him away from you—“

His expression shifts suddenly, and in an instant his hand is lashed around your wrist, the grip so tight and violent you think the bone might snap. “Is that what you think?” he demands, his voice dangerously low, his face close enough that you can taste the whiskey on his breath. “You think I resent you for what happened?”

“Don’t you?” it could very easily have come out sarcastically, and maybe that would have been preferable. Instead, it escapes you in a timid, weak breath that you despise instantly. “I’m the one that did it.”

And for one fleeting instant you catch it- you’re sure of it- pain flashes across his features. It’s gone as quickly as the flicker of a candle flame, but you know what you’ve seen. Those little frames of truth, the ones Polly could read as sure as tea leaves and bad intentions. You know she can, because she saw the dark spirit before anyone else. Warned everyone, warned Tommy. Only he hadn't listened well enough.

Tommy’s grip on your wrist stays, but softens. His thumb traces your pulse, making you very aware of the raucous thudding of your heart. His eyes, those February wind-storm eyes, fixate on you- and even though you can feel the intensity of what it means when Tommy Shelby gives you his attention, the power of it no longer buffets you and stings your eyes and lips. “Listen to me, (Y/N). Killing in self defence is not a sin, and I am not St. fucking Peter.” And just like that, the edge is gone from his voice. Because he’s got the measure of you, now.

You'd wanted to be an animal, a beast, a frenetic and untameable creature- because Tommy had more time and more patience for beasts than for men. What you hadn't anticipated- and you fucking should have, you little fool- was that the reason Tommy preferred the company of animals was that they fell under his spell without messy complication. After all, wasn't that the reason he'd spent all those afternoons as a boy helping at the stables with your father? Couldn't those hands, capable of such brutality and such violence, settle calm as warm sunlight against the sides of a horse's muzzle? Didn't every horse, whether wounded or ornery or spooked find something other humans couldn't explain in that cut-marble face and those December storm eyes?

He is taking you by the muzzle and blowing short puffs. You're nothing more than a mare causing trouble at the far end of the stable. Rattling her stall doors. And he knows how to settle you.

And it's working.

Your other hand finds its way to his grip on you, tentatively settling over his own. “You've done so much for me, Tom,” you admit finally. “I don't want you to think it's ingratitude, and I don't want you to think I don't appreciate you. I just- I want to feel like I- I dunno, I guess-”

As you fumble for words, you can feel his hand squeezing your wrist gently, reassuringly. “Like you're doing something to earn it,” he finishes, looking lazily across the room. He isn't really talking to you, you know- just thinking out loud, as he so often is.

“Like I'm of use to someone,” you correct him gently.

His head doesn't turn, expression doesn't budge even a tic, but his eyes come back to meet you. “And you want to be of use to me, ay?” he asks, still calm- but you can sense the whisper of a warning dancing beneath his words. “Have you even the faintest idea what can happen to people who agree to be of use to me?”

Scooting forward, you ease yourself off his desk, just leaning against it now, and find yourself occupying the position between his spread legs. Retrieving the bottle from where he'd set it a few minutes ago, you set it to his glass with a faint clink and refill it. He's silent, appraising again, but you can see that little glimmer of a laugh in his eyes. Where he kept it locked away, along with the other parts of himself that slowed him down.

Finally, you tilt your head like you'd been considering the answer. You hadn't- you knew it all along. “You let them?”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tw parent death #tw abuse #tw murder #tommy x reader

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