#the part where gray just wants to go home and see reines had me like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaa

[heartbreak-sandwich]

Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC

Summary: JJ would never turn down a free candy cane. When she runs into Billy and company on the street, he can't get her out of his head. A text exchange heats up between them, and when JJ decides to take things one step further with a steamy photo, Billy has no choice but to take a bathroom break for some sweet relief. Experience the gift that keeps on giving in the next 1.5k words✨ CW: light SMUT, masturbation (M solo), mentions of p/v sex, sexting A huge thank you to my beta reader and editor @lifesshort-imshorter for helping me bring this piece to life!!!

DAY TWO OF HOHOHOE WEEK Prompt: Candy cane Read Part 1 in this mini series here

“Thanks again, Joyce!” JJ waved her final goodbye to Joyce Byers as she exited Melvald’s General Store and started down the sidewalk back to her parked car. She excitedly unwrapped the long end of her candy cane, immediately popping it in between her lips and hollowing her cheeks around the minty treat. Peppermint was her favorite, and she was never known to decline a free candy cane.

The chime of laughter rang in her ears as JJ approached a trio of people coming the opposite way down the sidewalk. She swore she recognized them – two men and a woman – all bundled up in winter garb, joking amongst themselves and walking at a brisk pace.

As she got closer, a fire started in her belly at the sight of Billy Hargrove walking alongside two of her other former Hawkins classmates, Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins. They hadn’t noticed her yet, so she did her best to compose her posture and brighten the look in her eyes.

“Is that JJ Feron?!” Carol exclaimed, holding out her arms and quickening her pace. It took all of the energy JJ could muster not to roll her eyes. She and Carol had never really been friends, but she wasn’t about to bitch and moan in front of Billy, especially after last night.

JJ accepted the friendly hug from Carol and tuned out her giddy gushing as she snuck a glance at Billy who wore his usual smirk, his icy blue eyes shining against the crystalline backdrop of snow and gray sky.

“How are you guys?” JJ willed herself to smile at the trio in greeting which was returned by Tommy as Carol began droning on about how miserable her journey home to Hawkins had been. JJ continued to lavish licks on her candy cane while she feigned interest in Carol’s story. She was eternally grateful when Tommy checked his watch, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“We’d better get going, babe. We’ll miss our movie. Great to see you, JJ. Let’s catch up later.” Tommy’s brisk remarks were music to JJ’s ears, and she unsheathed her candy cane from her mouth with a pop.

“Don’t miss your show. I’ll catch you guys later,” she replied contentedly.

“Later,” Billy agreed, his eye contact almost too intense for the moment. JJ couldn’t help but feel like Billy’s statement was more of a promise, and her suspicion was confirmed when she caught him stealing a glance at her over his shoulder as the three of them continued past where she stood on the sidewalk.

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JJ made it back to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She was removing her winter layers and hanging them up in the closet when her phone buzzed in the pocket of her jeans. She took it out, surveying the screen, and a devious smile bloomed on her cherry-red lips.

Billy: Someone’s looking delicious today.

She stifled the giggle that broke open in her chest, the urge to kick her feet like a schoolgirl almost getting the best of her. As much as she wanted to return the compliment and then some, she decided to rein herself in and play it cool just to see if he might give chase.

JJ: Not nearly as delicious as this candy cane.

She was still working away at the candy cane, making sure to savor it as she undressed and got ready for a shower. Not even a few minutes flew by before her phone was buzzing again.

Billy: What I wouldn’t give to be that candy cane right now…

JJ’s eyes rounded, her cheeks almost matching the shade of her lipstick at Billy’s daring comment. She grinned around her candy cane and laid back on her bed to reply. She had an idea that would bring Billy to his knees.

JJ: What? You mean you want to be inside of my warm, wet mouth…have my soft tongue licking you up and down…getting your sticky flavors all over my lips?

It only took Billy a few seconds to respond, and she knew she had him in the palm of her hand.

Billy: Jacqueline…you’re killing me… JJ: I was just clarifying ;) Billy: Sure you were. At this rate, I might have to take a trip to the bathroom just so I can focus on the movie. JJ: A trip to the bathroom? What for? Billy: Wouldn’t you like to know…

JJ let herself squeal and laugh alone in her room. Ravaging a bite out of the end of her candy cane, she decided to take things a step further. She opened her robe to reveal her white lace bra and settled her snack snug in between her cleavage, letting it drip sticky sweetness onto her warm skin. Positioning the phone camera high above herself, she snapped a photo and quickly sent it before she could change her mind.

She stared back at herself on the screen, her red lips and the stripes of her holiday treat standing out bright against the pure white of her bra and bedsheets. As soon as the picture made it through to the other side, Billy was typing. JJ’s breath shallowed in anticipation.

Billy: DAMN. Billy: If you could only see what you’re doing to me right now.

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BILLY’S POV

Billy tapped Tommy on the shoulder in the dark. “Bathroom,” he whispered simply. Tommy nodded in response, and his eyes returned to the giant movie screen. Billy sidestepped out of the aisle and hurried out into the lobby of the theater, almost jogging his way to the men’s restroom. JJ Feron was going to be the death of him, and he was a willing victim.

He burst into the room with way too much gusto for a public restroom visit and made sure he was alone before locking himself in the stall furthest away from the door. Pulling out his phone, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with a groan, finally able to relieve some of the pressure on his aching, rock-hard cock.

Unlocking his phone, Billy pulled up the picture JJ had just sent him. Hiding it from Tommy during the movie was difficult, but he had managed to sneak a look at it just long enough to drive himself totally wild. He couldn’t take just sitting there anymore. After his adventure with JJ the night before, all he could think about was seeing her again, and this was the next best thing.

Seeing the photo a second time made him bite his lower lip, his brows knitting together in despair, missing her in that moment, as he gripped his waistband. With his empty hand, he let his cock spring free, salty dewdrops already forming at the tip. Billy stared at JJ’s perky tits just barely covered by her white lace bra, a bitten off candy cane nestled between them, and he spat into his hand. If he didn’t feel like he was about to explode into a million pieces at just the sight of this girl, he would be embarrassed at how unglamorous the situation was.

Tracing his tongue along his lower lip, he began a steady rhythm fisting his cock over and over to the thoughts of everything else he wanted to do to Jacqueline June Feron. He thought of her auburn curls tangled around his fingers as her pussy sucked him in deeper each time he tried to pull out. He remembered the sound of the frame of Steve’s mirror rattling against the wall, and JJ’s tireless moans, and each moment of pleasure he recalled only pushed him closer and closer to his edge.

Billy’s phone vibrated again, and the words on the screen sent him reeling.

JJ: I wish I was doing more…being the good girl I am, sucking you like that candy cane until you burst in my mouth…

That was all he needed. He felt a surge of heat just before he painted his hand white with his own sticky release, unable to stifle the strained moans escaping his throat in between his heavy, labored breathing. Delirious, wrist stiff and aching, he slumped against the wall of the stall he was in, waiting to regain his vision and control of the rest of his body as the wave of pleasure ebbed.

He took one last glance at JJ’s photo before he responded shamelessly.

Billy: My hand doesn't clean up nearly as well as your mouth would. Can I see you again tonight? JJ: I'm a little busy, but I'll try to fit you in. Billy: Oh, I know you can ;) JJ: Pick me up at 10.

With JJ's agreement to meet again that night, Billy shoved his phone into his pocket and cleaned up the best he could in the bathroom before sauntering back into the theater. He glanced at Tommy and Carol who were like zombies, mindlessly shoveling handfuls of popcorn into their mouths, hypnotized by the giant screen in front of them, barely even noticing he had returned.

Billy smirked to himself, feeling almost filthy for the break he had to take, but he really couldn't help himself. He couldn't get JJ off his mind no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the show, and if he was honest, she was all he really wanted to think about.

💕Tag list: @imyourdaninow @justsimonrileythings @b1tchy3lf @jozstankovich @darleenjade @peachyaliien @dananahenderson @strangerthing93 @yoyokiss97 @californiaboytoybilly

[pan-gya]

“I wanted to go back to the table where that girl was waiting,”

Please Reblog

[shinsouskitten]

Hi, so I just read your Bakugou NSFW alphabet, and I was wondering could you do one for Karma Akabane? There's a lack of content for him on Tumblr in general compared to Bakugou and I'm THIRSTY.

ME TOO HONEY. love me some sadistic redhead moments

also sorry for this being like RLLY late 😔 i hope you're not too dehydrated

Warnings: nsfw, mdni, this one is dirty

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Okay hear me out. He’s kinda shit at aftercare. He tries, bless him, but he’s just not really a nice guy (I love the guy but c’mon). Likely the most you’ll get is half a glass of water he forgot was on his bedside table and a towel to clean yourself off. At least, that’s all you’ll get while you’re awake. Once you’re asleep he’ll clean you properly (as well as he can without waking you up) and make sure you’re lying comfortably so you don’t wake up too stiff

There’s been the occasional time when you’ve passed out from how hard you came and he’s just kinda stared at you for a moment before making sure you’re okay (and alive) then just lay there stroking your hair until you come (no pun intended) back to him

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

He likes his hands, especially around your throat or gripping your hips like a vice as he completely ruins you. Something makes me think Karma is a neck guy, cause he can cover them with hickies that you can’t hope to hide unless you have some really good concealer. He’s a bit of a vampire

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Everywhere and anywhere. Karma loves to make a mess, and then constantly tell you how dirty you are and demand that you clean yourself up. One of his favorite moments is after he cums inside you, and warns you not to waste a single drop. If you do, oh boy, I guess he’ll just have to fill you up again

D = Dirty secret (pretty clear, a dirty secret of theirs)

Karma doesn’t really have any dirty secrets. If he wants to try something out, he’ll tell you. Really he’s shameless. He’s not gonna hide anything from you, even the darkest thoughts born from his deepest depravity

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not many people would be able to go a night with Karma, cause he can get a little intense, so before you he’s not incredibly experienced. He’s not a virgin by any means, but he hasn’t had the chance to try out most of the crazy things he wants to try. So for the most part he knows what he’s doing, but when it gets to the really fun stuff… well it’ll be a learning curve for the both of you

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Karma doesn’t really have a favorite position, simply because you never stay in one for long enough

G = Goofy (how serious are they in the moment?)

If you whine, or beg, he will laugh at you (the low chuckle 😩). This dude just really enjoys mocking you, but he’s still very serious about pleasuring you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Tbh he doesn’t really put too much effort into grooming. Mostly he’ll just try to keep it trimmed, and occasionally he’ll shave. Don’t worry tho, even though he doesn’t groom like crazy, he still keeps everything clean

I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)

He’s a fucking sadist. Don’t expect him to kiss your forehead and shower you with rose petals cause that’s just not Karma. This man will fuck you until you’re drooling and shaking and unable to talk with absolutely no remorse

J = Jack off (what are their views on masturbation?)

Honestly likes it a little too much. Is there such a thing as a masturbation addiction, cause if so, Karma has it. He has an incredibly high drive, and you’re not always there (or able to keep up with him) so if the dick goes up, the hand goes down

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He puts the S in BDSM

L = Location (favorite places to do the dance with no pants)

Once again, anywhere and everywhere. He’s also not shy about being caught

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going, etc)

When you talk back to him. Did someone say brat tamer?

N = No (turn offs, something they wouldn’t do)

He’ll try anything once, so don’t be shy to suggest something. This man is truly depraved, so anything you could think of, he’s thought of worse

O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)

Receiving, 100% receiving. And he’s not gentle either. Get ready for a face fucking cause he will use you until he’s satisfied. If he’s going down on you, it’s because he wants to overstimulate you and see those pretty little tears run down your cheeks

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He will break your back. ‘Nuff said

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

Karma looooooooves quickies, especially in public. There’s something about being so needy that you just can’t wait and the thrill and risk of being caught by unsuspecting onlookers

R = Risk (how risky are they willing to be?)

He once fucked you through a midnight showing of Fifty Shades of Gray, as a demonstration that that movie knows nothing about the real good stuff (his words). Surprisingly, no one in the cinema caught on to what was happening in the back seats, and even if they heard something, they most likely ignored it as part of the film. So yeah, he’s down for some risk

S = Stamina (how long do they last? how many rounds?)

It just doesn’t stop. Like- HOW CAN ONE PERSON HAVE SO MUCH STAMINA?! TF?! If you’re not literally shaking he’s not stopping (unless you ask him too of course, he may be an ass but he’s not a completely terrible person)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)

Oh my. If it exists, he has it. And he’s not shy about trying toys on himself either. He’s very open to new things so it’s not uncommon that you come home to find three new boxes on the kitchen counter and Karma standing over them with a maniacal grin

U = Unfair (how much do they tease?)

Dude. It’s Karma

V = Volume (how they sound, how loud they are, etc)

A small groan here and there, but most of the volume coming from your bedroom will be your own screams. The neighbors know his name, they’ve heard it so much it’d be impossible not to. He uses a fair amount of dirty talk, but he keeps most of his own sounds quiet. He wants to hear your voice, not his own

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

Now cause it’s not technically a dirty secret I left this one until now. One time he had a dream where you topped him and he woke up harder than he’s ever been in his life. He’s way too proud to ever admit wanting to see you take the lead, but if you surprise him and steal the reins, he may just protest a little less

X = X-ray (let’s have a looksee in those pants)

Mini Karma stands tall at a good 7 inches. He’s slightly leaner than average, but there’s a slight curve that has him drilling into your sweet spot with each and every thrust

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

You know Mt Everest? Yeah? Keep going up

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

With his stamina levels it’s highly unlikely he’d fall asleep before you. There’s been the occasional time when you’ve passed out from how hard you came and he’s just kinda stared at you for a moment before making sure you’re still alive

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part IV)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter Summary: Talk doesn´t seem to be like a good attack plan and now reader has to run for their life and avoid being caught by the Jaegerists.

Words Count: 6.1k

Silence reigned in the room. Only our breaths could be heard, some agitated, others calm, as well as footsteps fading at the end of the corridor. I could feel my heart pounding hard on my chest, inwardly wishing that no one could hear it. From the distance that each one was, I doubted it was physically possible; But let's face it, in a world full of humans turned into Titans, whose possessors can regenerate their body parts, listening to the beat of a heart shouldn’t be a difficult task.

"I wanted to speak with you"

Eren's lifeless eyes weren't focused on anyone in particular, I could notice his face even darker than it had been in recent days and a look much duller. My hand on the table was very close to his, threatened with blood staining from the crimson pool that was forming on the beautiful white tablecloth.

On my left side, the little girl was shaking up and down, not looking at anyone or anything at all. She also had her hands on the table, as did everyone. I directed my gaze towards the other companions at the table, the three were reversed in a conversation that I had no intention of being part of. The only thing that interested me was to give a little security to this poor girl.

I made a little movement with my elbow and shoulder toward her, trying to get her attention, but it didn't make her turn around. I tried again, this time launching a breathless and very low 'hey', taking advantage of the voices at medium volume to lighten mine. That did work. The girl had turned her eyes to me, she was still extremely scared and it showed in her eyes and all over her face. I was very sorry to see her like this.

I gave her a slight smile, curling the tip of my lip upward, and nodded. Her gaze locked with mine for a few seconds and I could see how she was calming down, even a little, but it was there. It was a stressful situation for everyone, I didn't even want to imagine what she must feel, and if my possibilities were within bringing her some calm, I would. I made a little "s'ok" with my lips without speaking, not even whispering.

"Are you paying attention?" My gaze turned to the source of the problem again. Eren had his eyes fixed hard on my face. I thought I might have gone unnoticed, but I was wrong.

I adjusted my posture on the chair, now staring forward, but with my eyes fixed on those intense but haggard gray-green eyes. I took my gaze away from his for a second to see the girl next to me, who was again trembling with fear, and I reached my hand towards hers, returning my gaze to it’s previous position. Eren  clenched his fist at this movement and furrowed his brow even more, sending me a silent and mental warning. I ignored his threat and grabbed the girl's hand, at no point taking my eyes off his and accentuating my head up high.

"Keep your hands on the table Mikasa"

His gaze now turned to his childhood friends, standing myself alone at the side of the table, failing incredibly to calm a twelve-year-old girl. And as if there was nothing that could make the situation worse and make the moment much more stressful, they had to touch on sensitive issues, issues that were like putting a finger on the sore.

"Armin, you keep going to see Annie, do you really do it of your own free will?" Was it really necessary? There was nothing, or so it seemed, that could give any indication that Annie was about to wake up, and the fact that Armin wanted to go see her didn’t seem bad at all, or at least that’s what I thought; Indeed, it clearly showed Armin's sentimental attraction to her.

Yes, Annie was an important key to the investigation of the titans, but that was four years ago, now we were just sitting back in the chair and hoping that, by some miracle, the glass that surrounded Annie and left her in a reverie state will unfreeze. That Armin came to see her didn’t change anything in the plans of the militancy, much less the legion.

"Since you inherited the memories, a part of you is now Berthold"

Ah, that’s where the shots came from. It was difficult to understand the powers and responsibilities that came with being a titan shifter. We weren’t only talking about the short life that the owners unfortunately had to endure, but also the memories of their predecessors, memories that could haunt their current owner.

Likewise, blaming Armin for Berthold's memories wasn't going to fix things. Armin was still Armin, the sweet and calm boy, willing to fight if necessary, but always opting for the least violent solution, the most civilized one. He tried it on Annie and he tried it on Berthold, failing both times.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to blame Armin for having the memories of one of our enemies in his mind, memories that I never wish to obtain or see. As far as I knew, Grisha's memories, while they had been an impact towards the general knowledge of the world, hadn’t shaped Eren ... had they?

Nor was it fair to see how the same boy who had so supported his childhood friend in the years as a recruit, was internally unbalanced by the stubbornness of that friend. See how fear invaded his gaze and he was petrified to such putrid revelations.

"Eren ..." I tried to stop him, God, I swear I tried to stop him.

I tried to use the word my comrades wanted to use so badly, the words Armin wanted to use, but they weren't enough. In a thousandth of seconds, horrific ideas flashed through my mind, wishing none of them would come true. If the conversation went this way, it could end not just a friendship of years, but the sanity of all of us. I wasn't important in this trio, I was an add-on, and I couldn't allow Eren to continue destroying relationships and people wherever he stepped.

But I wasn't quick enough to stop him with words. When he finished defenestrating Armin, he turned his attention to Mikasa. Of all the people, the one who I was most afraid was her, the person who would collapse the most if he detached himself from her half-brother.

"You too Mikasa"

My eyes went wide as I heard the truths of the Ackerman clan. Created and genetically engineered to protect and follow orders, without conscience, without free will. Mikasa was devastated and I could see in her eyes how images of her childhood passed through her mind, images and memories that now seemed like a lie, a sham.

"In short ... a clan created to protect others who have no conscience of their own"

"Eren, stop" Armin was just as scared as I was, praying to any God who had been watching us that so much evil stop at once, that those words would stop coming out of that damn viperine tongue. Eren was vomiting word after word, without measuring the consequences, without measuring the damage it could cause to Mikasa's mind.

"In other words, slaves"

The situation was getting out of hand. Nothing we could say or do right now was going to help. The conversation that Armin wanted with all his might to take place was going overboard. If the others could be present with us, they would see clearly like me how the faith in his friend was dissipating with the seconds in the blond's gaze.

"At last I understand why I hated to see a slave who carried out all orders without question"

His eyes were filled with hatred, resentment, anger, contempt, and a thousand other degenerative feelings. His intention was very clear the moment he entered the room: to hurt; and he was succeeding.

He’d done me a lot of damage in the last year, such damage that it reached the darkest and inner corridors of my mind and it was impossible for me to move forward on a gray and dubious course, and now he was willing to continue doing more damage, this time to his closest friends, those people that I never thought, that never crossed my mind, he could destroy internally. He was annihilating their willpower and their desire to fight, and he’s doing so by colossal steps.

"Eren that's enough!" Armin and I shouted in unison. We didn’t necessary have to say a word or look at each other to know that the next words were going to be disastrous.

"Mikasa, I have always hated you"

That was the breaking point. Mikasa's eyes filled with tears and they didn't last for a second on her lids, they were already being spilled onto her cheeks. She was completely devastated and I couldn't blame her. The person who had given her a home after the brutal murder of her parents, the person to whom she was so devoted and would give her life, was turning his back on her, as well as killing sentimentally.

"You damn bastard!"

Armin jumped on the table with the intention of reaching the dark-haired man, but he didn’t get very far, being pulled from the chest to the hard wood of the furniture by Mikasa herself. And that only made the situation worse and agreed with Eren. It was as if fate was laughing at us for trying to pull the strings of our paths, strings that handled us like puppets and over which we had no control.

Mikasa let go of Armin's hand when she realized the act she just did, horrified with herself, and he now had the opportunity to pounce on Eren, throwing a punch in the middle of his face and throwing him to the floor. With that, the table flew backwards and in a reflex action, I also threw myself back, letting the chair fall to one side and avoiding any blow that the table could give me.

Unconsciously I lunged towards the girl next to me, preventing at all times that the table hit her or that some of the two men who were fighting each other to ended up bumping into her. I pushed her away from any crossing point and hid her behind my back, using my body as a shield against any impact that could shoot towards our position. Mikasa had also run to the left side of the wine cabinet, contemplating the scene before hers with complete sadness.

Eren's fist slammed into Armin's face, throwing him straight into the cabinet, knocking a few wines against his back and knocking a couple of ceramic plates to the floor. My instincts screamed I needed to help Armin, even knowing that he could regenerate in a matter of seconds, that the cuts and bruises weren't going to last long, but that wasn't why I wanted to help him.

It wasn’t the pain and physical blows that worried me, but the psychological anger and damage that this was entailing.

"Jaeger-san!"

Two followers slammed into the room, pointing their rifles directly at Armin and Mikasa's heads. They were unaware of my presence, paying more attention to the boy beaten from head to toe and the girl crying like a river.

I took a step forward and reaffirmed my theory, my presence wasn’t being recognized. I took another step, and another, and another, until I was right next to the fallen table and turned around, making sure the girl was still where I left her, that she was safe and sound. I gestured with my finger to my lips for her to be quiet and to stay still and turned to the scene in front of me. Eren kept beating poor Armin, who was unable to defend himself properly. He was right, in a hand-to-hand fight, Armin would be the worst off, even myself, but that didn't mean I couldn't manage to come out victorious.

Next to me, the chair Eren was sitting at a few seconds ago was still in the same place where he felt. With great care and tranquility, I bent down to grasp the back legs of it, without taking my eyes off Eren or the pseudo-guards who still had with their rifles at a shooting position, raised it to the height of my head and then smashed it against the two armed men in the stomach area. I hurriedly kicked each of them to the face, preventing them from having a chance to get up quickly, just as I slung the rifles from their shoulders with the same leg and pushed them away under a window. Without wasting time, I turned around to find Eren realizing the events that were happening next to him, and I wedged a blow in the middle of his face, in the same way Armin had done.

The blow hadn't been quite strong since he didn't fall to the ground, but it was enough to throw him off balance and make him leave Armin alone. The blonde fell to the floor, exhausted and sore from the multiple punchs to the face he had suffered, and I continued to give a new blow to the stomach height to the brunette in front of me. One of his knees fell to the ground, giving me the opportunity to grab his arm and twist him from behind, immobilizing him. I put my other arm over his armpit, preventing him from moving his arms and his upper body.

“That’s enought you fucking bastard. Mikasa..."

My face was on the crook of Eren's neck, preventing me from seeing clearly ahead, but my partial gaze sought out those tear-filled gray eyes to signal her to help me. My voice was already a signal for help even if I wasn't yelling. I could see how those eyes were full of conflicts, a battle was being fought inside her mind and she seemed to not be able to reason what she saw.

"MIKASA!"

This time I did yell, asking with all my will Mikasa could come to her senses, that she could help me with the lost cause Eren was now. I wasn’t going to be able to control him for much longer, I didn’t have the necessary strength and that was why I was trying to reach her. But the fear in my eyes was reflected when I saw that she wasn’t moving, that she was simply watching with tears in her eyes, eyes that would surely be cloudy and couldn’t see clearly. My fear was reflected when I saw that no one was going to be able to help me.

Eren hit his head against mine, right on the septum of my nose. My head jerked back involuntarily and my arms lost support on his. He grabbed my left hand, holding it high, much higher than my head, uncovering my stomach and his knee hitting it’s pit, not just once, but twice. His leg hit my knee, yanking it back and knocking me off what little balance I had left.

His grip on my hand released and I fell hard on my knees and hands onto the wooden floor. My stomach was spasming and I regurgitated bile, struggling to take in some air that I was deprived of in a matter of milliseconds. I coughed all I could until my stomach settled back, but I was unable to get back to my feet. I felt two pairs of hands grab my arms and I stood up abruptly, grabbing my hair even and looking up as the turquoise eyes set at my point of view.

"Why do you always have to be in the middle? Why can you never stay quiet in a corner without sticking your nose in someone else's butt? " Without my noticing, his fist slammed into my nose, hitting the septum back and most likely breaking it. My head cocked to the side and I could see drops of blood falling to the ground and a stream spreading from under my nostrils to my chin. "It was frustrating to see how in all the missions you were there, being a useless without importance"

Useless? I was the one who treated his wounds in training, tying his head when he hit the stone floor in his practice with the movement equipment. I was the one who put cold water on his ankle when he bent it while running through the lush forest on a rainy day. I was the one who pushed him to the side when he was going to hit a stone face down for not looking where he was going. I was one of those who saved him when he was captured by Reiner and Berthold. I was the one who pulled him out of the middle of an onslaught of titans when he first activated the coordinate, even with a wounded and bleeding shoulder.

I was the one who slapped him to make him stop crying inside the cave when Rod Reiss was transforming, claiming this wasn’t the time for his tantrums and that if he wanted to make a change in this whole twisted story, he better put down the crocodile tears for when he was in the quiet of his bed.

It was me who warned him of dozens of Marleyan soldiers when he shed from his titan back at Libero.

“And yet you continued to stick to me like a lap dog to the leg of it’s owner. Yet another slave. Makes me gag just looking at your face"

I turned my face to him, fixing my eyes on his, conveying all the hatred and contempt he was making me feel. I felt my heart shrink at such crude words, but my duel had started several weeks ago and they didn’t achieve the same effect as with Mikasa. What he did was get me to give him a contemptuous half smile and laugh in his face. His eyes darkened when he saw my reaction. Whether he expected it or not was no longer important to me. He gave a slight nod to the men behind me and I noticed how my arms were gathered around my back and tightened so that I couldn't move. One of them walked away from me and went straight towards Mikasa and Armin, pointing his rifle at their heads.

"Take them, the brat who killed Sasha too"

I wasn’t going to allow it.

My two comrades were pushed into the corridor outside while I glared at them waiting for my turn to go out with the man behind me. The girl was completely scared and she had walked to the door of her own will, perhaps avoiding being further hurt. The moment Eren was about to leave, I slapped my head against the man's face repeatedly until his grip weakened and I was able to move freely again. I turned to him, kneeing him in the face and stomach. When I managed to reduce him to the ground, making him roll into a ball and couldn't move without causing him pain when he breathed, I wanted to turn towards the door with the sole intention of getting the poor girl out of the conflict. My hand was halfway searching for her when Eren grabbed it and yanked me back violently, slamming me against the table.

I lost my balance for a second and as an involuntary act I grabbed the tablecloth, but that didn’t do much, making me fall to the floor in the same way. Eren lunged at me, his body falling completely on top of mine and pinning me to the ground. His legs were positioned at each place of my torso and his fist hit my face not once, not twice, but three times, noticing how the cheek bone began to burn. I lifted my knee to the side of his ribs, my nails finding the skin of his face, and pushed him toward the table, hitting his back against the hard wood and tangling with the tablecloth.

I got up to run, but his leg hit my ankle causing me to fall on my face and hands. When I wanted to turn around again I felt his weight against mine, his legs now better placed on my knees and both hands holding my neck. He squeezed, I felt like the air was beginning to thin, my vision was turning white and I could feel my face redden. I tried to hit him in the face, but I wasn't strong enough to make him stop. I reached the same hand towards my side visualizing one of the chairs thrown by the fight with Armin but Eren was faster and his knee was now pressing against my inner arm.

I was running out of air and at any moment I was going to lose consciousness. In a desperate attempt I turned my eyes around me as best I could and found a bottle of wine broken in half lying a few inches from us, though too far away for me to just reach out. My fingers couldn't even touch the surface of the glass and on my last attempt before I fainted, I pushed myself towards the bottle, grabbed it by the spout, and pulled it towards Eren's face, driving the broken surface onto his cheek and eye. 

Eren grunted in pain and released his hands from my neck, giving me a chance to push him back with both legs and barely get up to run. With cloudy vision and an incredible urge to cough thanks to the pressure on my cervicals and thyroids, I could not make out the whereabouts of the Marleyan girl and ran out the door to the corridor. As I passed the threshold slamming the door wide, rifle bullets were aimed at me, miraculously failing to hit my body. I shrunk my body as much as I could without stopping my feet and looked towards the end of the corridor, finding the second man who was with Armin and Mikasa shooting at me from behind them.

I was about to fall to the ground when Mikasa slammed her shoulder against his, causing him to stagger backward and she struggled to get the rifle out of his hands. In those few seconds of advantage, Armin stepped between the line of fire and me in case any bullets were fired and yelled from his position.

"Go!" I don’t know if it was due to lack of air that I couldn’t react at all quickly and when seeing my indecision to run to where the two of them were or go through the back window, Armin again shouted angrier and more determined "Just go!"

Behind me was a window with broken glass, I assumed due to the bullet holes of the rifle, with a simple blow with my elbow I could break a large part of the glass and jump to the side of the street, but not before giving one last look at Armin and Mikasa, who were still battling the man and Eren coming out of the room half healed and with smoke coming from his wounds.

I fell onto the cobbled street and started running towards the main avenue. My legs were on fire and my lungs were about to collapse, every step I took was a stronger pain in my throat. I wanted to stop and cough to regain normality in my breathing, but I heard behind me the footsteps of people running and yelling to stop me. They were chasing me and if I kept on foot I wasn't going to get very far. I put my fingers to my mouth and whistled as best I could, calling out to Phillip from afar. I had left my horse right at the front door of the restaurant, on the other side of the avenue, so I ran in that direction in order to find him early.

The so-called Jaegerists kept firing behind me, a bullet struck my leg and hit the stone on the ground and ricocheted to the left side against a house. Multiple bullets continued to brush my body, some passing very close to my face and others aimed directly at my legs. In the distance I could see Phillip riding towards me, getting closer and closer. When he came to my side, without stopping, I grabbed his leash and jumped on his back, leaving half my body hanging from lack of strength. I grabbed his neck and motioned for him to turn around and head straight for the avenue.

Phillip was always a fast horse, I thanked the universe for entrusting me to this horse from the first recon mission. He was always there for me, a loyal, strong and very audacious horse, banking me on every expedition and whatever madness crossed my mind to save my companions or myself. I always thanked him for his swiftness and now more than ever I was thanking him in a shaking voice as he continued galloping through the crowd, heading toward the wall’s gate.

Having left the Jaegerists at a considerable distance, I positioned myself correctly on his back, grabbing onto the leash and leaning forward to stroke his head for his great work. I gave myself the freedom to cough and clear my throat of any discomfort, but multiple blows and a firm rumbling behind us made me realize that nothing was over yet, as they were still chasing me, now with their own horses. There weren't many, maybe five or six people and a coach from what I could make out from the hollow of my shoulder, but they were armed and that was what made them dangerous.

I told Phillip to keep riding, to go even faster, to get to the gate as soon as possible. With the riding, the saddle hit my legs and crotch, annoying and hurting me at the same time, but I had to hold it and keep going; we had to get to the gate and fast, very fast. We were a few blocks away when I saw the gate in the distance, wide open and with their respective guards on either side of the threshold.

"Close the door!" I screamed as loudly as I could, feeling my vocal cords tear in the attempt and made my throat hurt even more. The guards turned their heads towards my figure, but none deigned to do what I asked them, they just stared at me stupidly.

"CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!" I coughed as I let out such a scream hoping it was clear enough in the message. Seeing me continue to gallop towards the gate and now hearing the bullets being fired, the guards ran towards the internal mechanism and began to close it, giving me enough time to pass through it without being crushed.

The gate ended up closing when Phillip had already traveled about ten meters outside the wall, leaving the Jaegerists on the other side.

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I dipped my head into the clear water of the river. The cold of the current massaged my battered muscles and cleaned the still bleeding wounds. It was already the third time that I’d put my head in the water and I could notice how little by little the pain was dissipating, but knew that the next day I would have a remotely swollen face and a septum to treat.

We had gotten quite far from the wall, maybe forty minutes or an hour galloping, and we had stayed by the river so as not to get lost. Phillip took the time to drink plenty of water and eat some of the dry grass that surrounded the river; I owed my partner a big one and if it was necessary to spend the little savings I had on a better chair and care for him, I would give it all… but when things were calmer and we could go home.

I lay on my back on the grass into a star-shaped possition and gazed up at the clear sky except for a few fluffy clouds. If it din’t for the recurring events in the last month, I would have taken the liberty of enjoying this beautiful day and the days before that surely there were, but I was too blind and busy to notice them.

The grass felt soft except for a few small stones scattered unevenly and the small field insects that landed on my arms and face and then flew off. It was relaxing, too relaxing. The heat of the sun's rays hit my skin and gave me a comforting sensation that soaked down to my bones, generating a pleasant interior warmth and tingling; I wanted to sleep, I wanted to rest, my body was forcing me to take a break, and this place, this moment, seemed like the perfect one. I closed my eyes, wishing sleep and tranquility would come as quickly as possible, but a vibration in the floor and Phillip's screaming snapped me out of my trance.

I raised my head, surveying my surroundings, the vibrations getting stronger as if they were getting closer. I looked at Phillip and followed his line of sight, far over the horizon, there was a litter of horses galloping over the stone paths that had been built a couple of years ago between each wall. Green overcoats could be distinguished over the horizon of the clear blue sky.

"Fuck, I was hoping to be calm for a couple more hours, come on Phillip"

I got on the back of my horse for the third time that day and directed it to the opposite side of where the other horses were riding. Being in the middle of an open field, there weren’t many houses where to take refuge, even though they had built a lot of houses between both walls. A little in the distance was a lush forest of tall trees, but not as tall as those of the Forest of Giant Trees, that enormous nature of fifty and eighty meters.

We stopped right at the entrance, hoping we had distanced ourselves from the litter of horses, but when I got off Phillip to rest my legs, I saw the path we had come from, and in the distance the same horses that he had seen on the stone path were approaching. There was no longer any doubt that they were the Jaegerists.

I turned my head towards the forest, from what I could see from the entrance the trees weren’t at a considerable distance from each other and the small dirt roads were too narrow. I didn’t know this forest at all and the mere fact of entering without knowing the terrain through the narrow corridors didn’t give me much confidence. But going around it wasn’t a good option either and I would end up being visualized in a matter of seconds. We were in a dead end, in a maze, and I had to play the few cards I had cleverly. I unbuttoned the coat which was already very badly placed on my shoulders and tied it on the strap.

"Phillip I need you to keep running, go as fast as you can and as far as your legs can reach" I pulled the saddle off his back, dropping it to the ground and tried to hide it inside a nearby bush with my foot. I brought his head closer to mine, resting my forehead on his muzzle and stroking his side one last time before saying goodbye.

"Go!" I smacked him on the back and Phillip ran down the narrow forest paths. As for me, I tried to dispel the footprints the horse had left behind before sending me to run down another path and go as far as I could into the heart of the forest.

I ran, ran and ran, my legs were on the edge, branches and thorns were digging into my skin making it burn every time other scratches were created in the same place. At this fact, I was resigned to the fact my clothes were bleeding and torn, as well as the matted hair and bruises on my body. My foot made contact with a tree root and I fell between the others, right in a hole, hitting my head and shoulder in the fall. I scraped my arm too, and my shirt was now full of dirt and dry leaves; surely my hair was the same. I heard heavy footsteps near me and I rolled into a ball in the hole, hiding behind the tree and seeking its protection.

"Find them, we can't let them escape"

Six people broke up and each one ran in a different direction in search of me. For an instant, my heart skipped a beat and my breath hitched when I saw one of them pass by the side of the tree where I was. At no point did he turn towards my location so I was able to breathe again. Minutes passed until I stopped hearing nearby footsteps, I got up leaning against the bark and kept walking inward, finding myself up a steep hill down.

I let gravity guide me and my feet unconsciously ran downward, avoiding rocks and bushes along the way. As I reached the low surface of the hill I tripped over my feet, losing my balance and colliding with a small tree that was right in the middle of where I was walking. As I stood up and turned it around, I came face to face with a Jaegerist, hooded, rifle in hand.

"Hey! You- "

My reflexes acted on instinct, my leg went straight to his ribs, hitting him squarely in the side of his stomach. I grabbed the rifle with both hands and hit it with the butt on both sides of the face and discarded it to the side when blood began to come out of his mouth. My hand went straight to his head, slamming it against the tree over and over again without stopping until his body fell unconscious on the grass. The interaction lasted no more than fifteen seconds, but it felt like I was about to explode. So many blows received and produced were leaving collateral effects on my body; at any moment I would pass out.

During the three years of training I have gotten used to physical confrontation and body training that lasted more than five hours, not to mention the months we spent annihilating each Titan within the walls. Those missions that lasted all day, if not more, were nothing compared to what my body was going through right now.

I sat next to the body, trying to catch my breath and rest my eyes. I rested my head on the tree and when I opened my eyes I saw a black figure in the middle of a grove a few meters away. He didn’t carry a rifle and seemed to have no intention of running to any specific place, he simply deigned to look around him, at the ground and towards the treetops. I froze to see Eren staring down at the body.

I shrank as much as I could to the left, hiding in the middle of the bushes, body to the ground, without taking my eyes off that figure that was now heading towards the unconscious body of one of his followers. I crawled back until I found a tree wide enough to hide.

"I know you are here"

It was the only thing I heard him say. My blood ran cold and a cold sweat began to form on my forehead. I was scared, very scared, I wasn’t going to deny it, but this wasn’t the time to sit and watch how they corner me little by little until they capture me. If this was the moment, I was going to give everything to get out of here. I stood up resolutely, taking a deep breath, and showed my face to my perpetrator.

"Do you want to pick up where we left off?"

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[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Damaged Souls

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: dark humor, cussing, loss of parent. 

A/N: A comfort fic for myself/ me dealing with my dad’s passing. NOT EDITED, sorry for mistakes. 

Summary: While waiting to meet with Steve, Bucky meets a woman trying to skateboard. 

The park was twelve steps away from where Bucky parked, waiting patiently for his usually on time friend. He leaned against his hood, a cup of stale gas station coffee in hand. The plan was to meet Steve for some down time - he hadn’t gotten much time off from work lately. Sam and he were doing some intense intel ventures that brought him away from home in weekly intervals. Now that his oldest friend was, well, his oldest friend - he tried to see the aging gentleman as often as possible. 

His cell phone rang and he picked it up to Steve apologizing for running late. “I guess old age has its disadvantages.”

“Come, on, punk,” Bucky teased, eyes following a woman who was walking passed him. She held a skateboard in hand, a duffle bag thrown over her shoulders. “By the time you get down here, I’ll have gray hair too.”

Steve laughed and promised to be there as soon as he could. “Go grab us a bench, before they’re all taken.”

“Jesus, you really are old.”

“Respect your elders,” Steve coaxed, laughing as his dog barked for his attention. “Be there soon, Buck.”

The friends hung up and Bucky sighed, pushing himself off the car hood. He walked further into the park, sipping on his coffee and enjoying the fresh air. Admittedly, he was tired and a little run down. He was truly looking forward to meeting up with Steve, so he wasn’t upset that he had to wait a little longer. It was nice being out, so he took his time looking for a bench and ended up finding one near a basketball court. No one was playing, so he sat down and relaxed. 

That’s when he noticed you walking up to the court; he wondered if you were going to play alone but saw the skateboard in your hand. You were the woman who had passed him in the parking lot - he watched as you threw the duffel bag down at the edge of the court. Drinking his coffee, he focused on you - observing as you put on knee and elbow pads on. That was more protection than Sam wore on missions, the thought made him laugh a little too loud because you turned his way. Bucky quickly took a sip of his coffee, pretending to not notice you.

You looked away and continued to secure yourself before moving to the middle of the court. Embarrassed, Bucky tried to not stare, cursing his friend to hurry up so he wouldn’t look like such a creeper. He attempted to think of the things he wanted to tell Steve, mainly asking him for advice on how to rein Sam in but those thoughts were momentary. His eyes quickly went back to watching you attempt to skateboard. 

He noticed how unsure you were at first, getting on the board and kicking off but stopping yourself right after. Personally, he never rode a skateboard in his life - he already spent too much time off the ground and he could only imagine how silly he would look. So, it was interesting to watch someone attempting to learn - he was living vicariously through you, whoever you were. Feeling a bit more relaxed as you noticed him less and less as the time went by, Bucky watched freely and even felt excited for you when things started to go smoothly. You were balancing yourself perfectly and even picking up speed, and as if his promising thoughts were jinx - he watched as the skateboard halted and you flew backwards. 

Bucky couldn’t stop himself, leaving his coffee on the bench as he raced forward. You had fallen on your back and when he got to you, he was shocked to see you were laughing on the ground.

“Miss, are you okay?”

You blinked a few times before waving a hand in the air. “I’m fine, just...my ass hurts.”

Bucky laughed and offered up a hand. “Let me help you up, it looked like…”

“I ate shit,” you murmured, letting him pull you off the ground. Rubbing the back of your head, he asked if you hit it. “Not hard at all, I guess that’s what I get for being 30 and thinking I was Tony freaking Hawk.”

Bucky had no clue who you were talking about, but he just smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay, if it helps, before the fall it looked like you were doing great.”

Reaching down for the skateboard, you shrugged. “I guess, it’s really not that hard but my body felt that fall.”

“It looked brutal,” he admitted, pointing to the bench he was occupying. “Maybe you should sit down for a bit?”

You looked to the bench then back to the man in front of you - he was attractive, that much was obvious but his smile was kind and that’s what reeled you in. You wondered if he did this often - lingered around the park for silly women who did silly things to occupy their depression. 

“I probably should, let me go get my bag.” 

Bucky watched as you started to walk away but stopped, turning to tell him your name. He took the hand you held out and shook it lightly. “I’m Bucky.”

“Thanks for watching me fall on my ass, Bucky,” you amused, nodding to where your bag sat. “I’ll meet you at the bench.”

He watched as you left to retrieve your bag, scratching his head and praying that in his old age, Steve would take even longer to get to the park. Jogging back to the bench, Bucky sat down and picked up his coffee just as you approached. You were limping a little and he had to hide his smile as you sat down, tossing the bag down to the ground along with the skateboard.

“I have to ask,” he said, trying to get the conversation going. “Why skateboarding?” 

You let out a low laugh but your smile faded quickly; he recognized the pain in your eyes and he felt guilty for asking such an innocent question. 

“Well, my dad passed a few months ago,” you explained, feeling the constant lump in your throat forming. “And...it was one of those things, where life just feels empty. So, here I am, trying to cure my depression one new hobby at a time.”

Bucky felt a sting in his throat as you shrugged and laughed - god, he knew that feeling all too well. He lost all his family and the hell he had been put through since then, had crushed his soul. “Sorry about your father.”

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t kill him.”

It was apparently raw, the false sense of humor in your voice - trying to deal with your pain with dark jokes. He could tell you used it often by the shrug you gave, paired with a nervous laugh. Bucky just grinned back and asked what number hobby was skateboarding.

“Shit, number six. I’ve done knitting, rug making, yoga, day drinking, throwing myself off buildings,” you laughed as you rattled off random things. Bucky grinned and shook his head, asking if you had found something worth sticking to. 

“I kinda like skateboarding, just gliding around feels free. At least...I don’t know,” you said, embarrassment written on your face. Here you were, showcasing your dead dad personality to a complete stranger….again. The difference was that this time, the person wasn’t walking away confused and unsettled by you - a person so terribly broken all she could do was just laugh at her life. Laugh loud and abruptly because it was either laughing or crying, and fuck, were you sick of crying. 

“I understand,” Bucky said quietly, half smiling as he stared down at the to go cup in his hands. “It feels like you’re just standing still while everything around you keeps on living, like you’re frozen in time…”

“Exactly,” you practically yelled, holding back as you laughed a little. “I mean, shit, can I bitch get a break?”

Bucky’s eyes widened at your vulgar humor and you apologized. “Sorry, I just - I blurt things out without thinking, more than ever now. “

He held up a hand and grinned. “No need to apologize, it’s actually refreshing.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, glancing down at your cell. “I have to go, I just decided to randomly come to practice but I need to go meet my sister. We have our weekly crying sessions over ramen and slushies.”

You reached down for the duffel bag and skateboard, and he watched as you took off the knee and elbow pads, stuffing them in the bag. Zipping the bag, you stood up and groaned. “Yeah, my ass is going to be sore tomorrow.”

“Ice it,” Bucky teased, standing up with you. “I’m glad you’re okay...it was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, again, thanks for witnessing my downfall,” you remarked, unable to move. This was different, it felt strange and a part of you didn’t want to leave the bench or this stranger. Not wanting to miss your chance and this possible attractive sign from the universe, you decided to make a move. “So, I’m going to be coming back here tomorrow around noon to practice some more…”

Bucky felt relief in his chest as he smiled over at you. “I’ll bring a bucket of ice.”

Laughing, you pointed a finger at him. “That was a good one, I better go - my sister might commit suicide if I’m not there on time and I can’t let her go see our dad first. I’m very competitive like that.”

Your eyes watched for Bucky’s reaction and when he shook his head with a chuckle, you just knew he understood. Whatever he had gone through, although not the same as yours or maybe it was, it definitely was a pain the two of you could connect with and that was enough reason to show up the next day. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he nodded, his smile small and kind. 

Holding back a smile, you started to walk away but turned to wave at him. He waved back, although you had to admit, he looked pretty dorky. Laughing, you turned around and nearly bumped into an elderly gentleman with his dog.

“Oh, sorry!”

He smiled and shook his head. “No problem, sweetheart, have a nice day.”

Usually a sweetheart from anyone irritated you but his sweetheart was kind and surprisingly genuine. Smiling at him, you left the park somewhat happy for the first time in a long time.

…

Bucky watched as Steve made his way to the bench, patting the seat next to him. “About time, old man.”

Ignoring the comment, Steve sat down, whistled for his dog to sit, and nudged Bucky in the ribs - he was still pretty strong for a man of his age. “She seems nice.”

Not surprised at all, he laughed. “So you saw that whole thing?”

Steve shrugged. “I saw enough, are you going to see her again.”

Thinking of the sadness in your eyes and the familiar reflection he saw in the mirror every morning, he glanced over to the basketball court. He had felt lonely for so long and while he wasn’t going to depend on anyone else or put his own baggage on others, but something about you felt interconnected. 

Two damaged souls, it sounded very dramatic but hell, his whole life had been dramatic. 

“Yeah,” Bucky said through a smile. “I’m definitely going to see her again.”

[peterrparrkerr]

Royal au - read on ao3

Tagging: @lokitonypeter @just-things-things @thegreenmetblue @someonepostedart @andacheesyoneliner @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup @useless-fanfictions-for-mcu @tnpt @sarcastich

Reign au!!

*-*

Peter was nervous. He hadn't seen prince Steve in years. Not since they were both children.

He hides the shaking of his hands at his back as he walks towards the castle he once spent his summers in.

It seems smaller and more daunting all at once. Before, he hadn't known about the arranged marriage.

Now he does.

And with an attempted assassination at his back, Peter's only slightly overwhelmed at the prospect of calling this place home.

There's a welcoming party for him. Servents and maids, stable hands and kitchen staff all standing on either side of the gravel pathway that leads to the castle doors.

Peter takes a deep, shaky breath as he sees the king and queen step out. The king looks much older. Deeper wrinkles along the sides of his mouth and eyes, the skin of his cheeks not as plump as before. They sag just enough to be noticeable. And his hair is graying at the temples, thinner than Peter remembered.

"Is that what I have to look forward to, when I am king?" Peter murmured quietly, nerves getting the best of him.

"Of course not," Mj spoke at his side. "King Joseph rules with an iron fist and decite. Not to mention he has lived past two quarters of his life."

"I should hope I live that long," Peter huffed, looking from the king, to the queen. "We should have postponed until after the wedding."

The queen -Sarah- was just as Peter remembered her to be. Short, fair skinned and blond, just like Steve.

"Nonsense," Ned said, giving Peter a small nudge. "The festivities will take your mind off of all that comes with being the future king."

Peter huffs again, but begins making his way towards the royal couple. Mj and Ned are both behind him, on either shoulder.

"Where is the prince?" Ned asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," Peter said, grasping his hands more tightly. It had been so long, he wondered if Steve would even recognize him.

"Is that him?" Mj asked. Peter glances from the king and queen to the left, behind the wall of servents.

Peter blinked, a quiet exhale forced from his parted lips.

"No," Peter shook his head, eyes never leaving the man that made his way towards the welcoming party, taking his spot in the crowd.

"No, that's Tony," Peter breathed. He couldn't believe how Tony had grown.

"The king's bastard?" Ned asked, aghast. "He lives in the castle?

He was no longer the gangly kid with dark hair. No, Tony had grown into his limbs. His dark hair was styled artfully, and he even had facial hair now.

Peter almost stumbled from staring.

"Oh."

Peter pulled his attention from Tony to where Mj was looking, and his eyes widened.

Steve was walking towards them. He had grown too, in ways other than his half brother.

His shoulders were broad, hair even more blond than Peter remembered, and he had grown so tall.

Peter couldn't help the giddy smile that pulled at his lips, and he nearly broke out into a run to reach Steve.

It took everything in him not to, and the two met in the middle.

"I can't believe it," Steve spoke first, looking Peter over. "You've grown."

Peter doesn't know why that makes his cheeks burn. He shakes it off though.

"So have you, your grace," he replies. "Obviously. You didn't look like this ten years ago."

He hears Mj snicker behind him and he inwardly curses. But Steve just smiles.

"You can just call me Steve," he hums.

"I'm Peter."

A smile pulls at Steve's lips. "I remember."

*-*

It takes Peter a couple days to really settle into the new routine and scenery. Mj and Ned usually keep him company in his chambers, though they've been put to work helping out around the castle when their services aren't needed.

Peter feels a little misplaced still. He's used to running through the hallways with Steve, laughing and playing and being with each other from the time they woke up to the time they went to bed.

But Steve is the future king, and he has responsibilities. They speak during meals, and sometimes Peter catches him during the day and they talk -reminiscing about their shared summers.

But for most of the day, Peter is alone. He can't help but feel a sad sort of melancholy for the months before. It just reminds Peter that he's no longer a child.

He's the future king as well, and there's been many attempts on his life since he was young and naive.

"What are you doing out here all alone, Prince?"

Peter jumps, dropping the rocks he had been picking up from around the lake.

He turns to see Tony, the reins of a black horse in his hand as he makes his way over.

Peter blushes, noting his current state of undress. His belt, shoes and stockings are all on the grass, leaving Peter in nothing but a tunic.

His feet are covered in mud, shins wet from walking into the water.

"I, uh," Peter started, brushing his hands off on his tunic, transferring the dirt onto the fabric.

"I was just exploring," he winces. Not something a future king should be doing.

Tony smirks, and Peter's heart skips a beat. He had grown into a fine man.

"I see some things don't change," he says. Peter steps away from the lake and into the grass.

"What does that mean?" Peter asked, bending down to collect his things.

Tony gives a small shrug.

"Only that I remember you used to bring in little rocks and frogs when you were younger," he said. "You always gave the prettiest stones to Steve, and the frogs to me."

"If I remember correctly, you liked frogs," Peter countered, unsure why he felt the need to get defensive.

"I did," Tony agreed. "It is good to know you haven't changed."

"You have," Peter can't help but respond. "You've grown into your legs."

That makes Tony huff a laugh. Peter blushes deep red, cursing at himself and his mouth.

"Will I see you at the wedding?" Peter asked when Tony turned to leave.

Tony smiles and gives a small nod. "It is my half sister's wedding," he said. "Of course I'll be there."

Peter can't help but smile at that, and Tony climbs onto his horse. "I would get back to the castle soon, it'll be getting dark soon."

*-*

The wedding is wonderful, and it does exactly what Ned said it would. Peter forgets all about his troubles as he dances.

At first, he dances with Mj and Ned, but Steve sweeps him off, practically pulling Peter off his feet.

Peter can't help but smile all night. He doesn't know the sister very well, seeing as she had a similar arrangement with her own betrothed. She was visiting her future husband's home in the summer months too.

As the night draws near its close, Mj grabs Peter's hand, a wide grin on her lips as she tugs Peter from the dance floor.

Ned is close behind, the three of them running down the dark halls.

Peter doesn't know where they're going, but he can't help but be relieved at the reprieve from the festivities.

The room Mj takes them to is small and cramped. Hidden behind a curtain. Peter has half the mind to ask Mj how she found it, but before he can, Mj pulls the small painting from the wall.

What lays behind it has Peter's eyes widening. Its the groom and bride, standing in a candle lit room with four other men.

There's a bed and a bath, and its easy for Peter to deduce whats happening.

"We're not allowed to see this," Peter whispered, turning to Mj. The girl rolled her eyes and nudged him.

"Dont you want to know what to expect on your own wedding night with Steve?" She asked.

Peter's already shaky resolve crumbles, and he turns his eyes back to the room, swallowing thickly.

"They have to watch?" Ned asks, on Peter's other side. Peter doesn't take his eyes off of the two newly married as they begin to pull at their clothes, soft and gentle.

Peter feels his cock fill at the sight of the man taking the princess -soon to be queen- to bed.

"They have to watch, to consumate their marriage," Mj whispered back, her eyes also transfixed.

Peter's aching in his tunic, and he can't help the flush to his cheeks, watching as the man pushes in gently, pushing out a breathy moan from the woman.

The three of them watch until the man cums, and Peter almost cums himself at the sight.

"Go, go, go," Mj whispered, quickly hanging the painting back up.

Peter does, rushing from their hiding place and taking to the stairs. He doesn't think he can make it back to his chambers. He may burst if he doesn't find a release.

He takes a right, then a left until he's so deep in the castle that the only people who might stumble upon him are the servents, and they're all busy with the festivities.

Peter gasps desperately as he leans into the wall, lifting his tunic up and pulling at the drawstring of his pants.

He closes his eyes and bites his lips as he finally gets his hand around his throbbing cock. It feels so good, Peter's knees nearly buckle.

He's so close to cumming in his pants, so focused on getting himself there, that he doesn't realize someone's walked in on him until a hand joins his own.

Peter's eyes snap open and he removes his hand, gasping as his eyes settle on Tony.

The man is close, his breath smelling like wine, dark eyes glinting and smirk tugging at his lips.

His hand squeezes around Peter's cock and he can't help but mewl, eyes rolling up into his head and hips pressing closer.

"Tony," Peter whimpered, rolling his hips. He can't help it. He's stupid on the need to orgasm, after watching the groom and bride, thinking about himself and Steve in that same position.

Its too much for Peter to handle.

"Shh," Tony murmurs, stroking Peter as he leans forward. "I'll take care of you, Prince."

Peter kisses Tony when the man's lips land on his. Hes worried he'll crumble to the ground if the wall weren't there for him to lean on.

Tony's facial hair scratches at Peter's mouth, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

Tony moves in closer, practically supporting Peter's weight as he snakes his free arm around Peter's waist.

Peter tries to warn him, but all he manages to get out is a desperate keening noise that Tony eats up.

Peter cums hard into his pants and Tony's hand, which slicks up his movements further, drawing more pleasure.

"There you go, Prince," Tony praised against his mouth before moving to his jaw, still stroking Peter through his orgasm. "Thats it."

Peter doesn't know what came over him. He leans back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Trying to collect his thoughts.

Tony removes his hand, now covered in cum, and smirks down at Peter.

Peter can't help but whimper at him, unsure of what exactly he should be feeling.

Tony grabs Peter gently by the chin, tilting his head up ever so slightly to plant the softest of kisses to Peter's kiss bruised lips.

"Good night, Prince."

[hufflesmonsters]

New Beginnings

A/N: hi, just dropping in to say I’m writing again >:D enjoy this slow burn. Also, surprise, it’s not a lizard man story though I do have one in the works so there is that.

~*~*~*~

Torren swung the ax down, splitting the log in two. Sweat beaded his brow as the sun bore down on him. He stuck the ax down in the wood stump and stood, wiping away the sweat with the back of his hand as he looked up at the sky. Just past noon, he’d have to get a move on if he was going to be on time for the kings summon. If he even wanted to take the job, whatever it was. If King Richard the second wished to hire a mercenary, it surely couldn’t be for anything fun. He clearly didn’t want to waste his own men for this, which meant that Torren was likely going to die during his job. 

And yet… the money he would get if he lived. He could retire, and finally live his dream of being the towns hermit to its fullest potential. As in, he only ever comes into town on stormy nights to buy ten kegs of ale and disappear for another three months. He grew his own food, hunted his own meat. Of course he kept messing up his tomato plants which meant he had to go into town to get those, but once he can figure it out then mission Hermit was a go. 

Stepping back, he grabbed the shirt he had draped over a nearby branch and walked towards his home. It was a nice little shack, one he’d built from scratch back when he was just a young boy. He had found the location by accident really, one minute he was being chased by his elder brothers, the next he was standing in a clearing with a pond and no one in sight for miles. At first it was just a cool hideout, somewhere he could go to get away from his crazy family and village bullies. But over the years he spent more and more time here, fixing it up and expanding the facilities. Next thing he knew he had completely moved in and claimed the land officially as his. 

Tossing the shirt on the couch, he walked into his bedroom and opened his dresser. He wasn’t sure what he’d need really, if this was a quick trip, and he hoped it was, he’d only really need two shirts, pants and his washing supplies. He already had his armor on, his swords were already by the door, polished and ready to go. He grabbed the shirts, extra pants, and his bag of supplies and stuffed them into a bag that he could tack onto his horses saddle. He’d grab a small coin purse for food and drink, which should cover him for his trip if he was careful. If he ran out of coin he’d only have to offer to chop wood for inns or something like that. 

As he turned to leave, bag in hand, he stopped by the kitchen and grabbed the oat bag for Sweetie. Most of the time she was content to just chew on grass, or even break into gardens and devour everything in sight. But oats, how she loved oats. 

The sun glared at him as he exited the house, he stopped briefly to lock it up before continuing down the path to the pasture. He could already see the giant grazing peacefully, black tail flicking away bugs as her dappled gray coat shone silver in the sunlight. She was truly a magnificent horse, holding a presence without even trying. She was a draft horse, one of the few capable of holding a full grown orc. And she was an absolute sweetie, hence, her name. 

“Got something for you, Sweetie,” Torren called as he entered the stall part of the pasture, grinning as her large head shot up, ears pointed forward and nostrils flaring. She smelled the oats like sharks smell blood in the water. With a graceful trot, she soon stood in front of him, towering over him by two feet. She bent down and nuzzled his cheek lovingly, snorting into his ear as he tried to shove her away. “We don’t have time to cuddle, girl. The King wants us at the castle by midday tomorrow.”

Sweetie snorted and stood upright again, flank twitching as she moved past him and into the tacking area. She was smart, smarter than most horses he’d met. She waited patiently as he began to saddle her, taking his time to secure the bag and oats in a place where she couldn’t get to it. She was tricksy, especially when it came to oats. But she also knew that those were a night time snack, something that he wouldn’t just give out unless they narrowly avoided death and allowed her to have something to chew on while he fought off a panic attack. 

He slid the reins over her head, patting her cheek as she opened her mouth to allow the rod to go in. Once she was fully outfitted, he lead her out of the stalls and closed the doors behind her. He swung up onto her back, and settled in. Gathering the reins, he clicked his tongue and set off down the dirt path that lead into town. The castle wasn’t too far, if he traveled nonstop today he’d be able to make it before midday tomorrow. Talk to the king, get the job done, and they’d be home before they knew it. 

~*~*~*~

Reaching the castle, Torren almost turned back around. He’d heard the rumors, how King Richard the second seemed to… overcompensate. The walls around the kingdom were large, but not as large as the damn castle. It towered over everything, almost as if it was a direct challenge to the gods. It was also very, very ugly with its pale brown coloring and lack of windows.

Showing his summons slip to the guards at the gate, he slowly made his way into the kingdom. It was another thing that irked him about King Richard, he was a man with “purist” beliefs. No race other than human was allowed past the walls without a proper invite. There was no trading, or apprenticeship allowed between humans and others. Which raised another red flag about this job offer, why would a king who hates his kind specifically ask him to complete a task for him. 

Torren tightened his fist on the reins as he watched the crowd wearily. He was going to die, either here or on this job if he wasn’t careful enough. The townsfolk weren’t bad, they looked more open to him than the guards did, but he didn’t dare interact with them. Not even to the young children who waved at him for the guards were watching him just as closely as he was watching them. 

Reaching the palace, he climbed off of Sweetie’s back and handed the reins over to the stable boy, a warning look in his eyes. If they mistreated her, he would rip all of their spines from their backs and beat them to death with it. Torren turned to look at the guards that approached him, back stiff as he towered over them. It was almost laughable, how they escorted him into the palace. 

The inside of the castle was just as ugly as the outside, the same beige walls, no decorations whatsoever. Whoever helped the king design this deserved to be publicly executed. Knights stood at every corner, some seemed to be standing at random places the further they got in. It was almost as if someone had just told them to pick a window and stand. The guards increased as they drew closer to the throne room, all of them standing at attention as they stopped in the middle. The guards beside him stood at attention, hands over heart and back straight. 

One of the guards announced the arrival of the king, everyone else following in salute. Torren looked up in expectation for the infamous King Richard the Second. Looking, looking, out of confusion, his gaze drew down to the floor when an irritated cough sounded. 

Oh, oh gods… 

Torren had to physically bite his tongue as he took in the sight of King Richard the second. No wonder the castle was so large and hideous, this man barely stood past a humans waist. He recalled an old nickname for the king, one that was immediately outlawed in the towns surrounding his kingdom. Little Dick Jr, the bane of all of Pufort. 

Torren knelt in front of the tiny king before any more offense could be given. And he had a lot to give at this moment in time. “Your grace,” he said stiffly. 

“Rise,” came the nasally response. “Do you know why I've called you here, orc?” Dick Jr asked once Torren towered over him again. 

“No, m'lord.” 

“I am a king without a queen, I'm basically a laughing stock in all the kingdoms!” Torren was willing to put money on it, that wasn't the reason why, but he knew better than to say that. “But there's a princess, locked away in a tower due east. And she will be my bride.” 

“And you wish me to retrieve her?” Torren asked for clarification. That didn't sound so hard at all. 

“Yes, it's a week’s journey all together, the roads are treacherous, but I'm sure you're no stranger to that,” again, nothing dangerous. “And then of course there's the active volcano and lava surrounding the castle and the dragon guarding it.” Ah, there it is. 

“I see, that doesn't sound too difficult for me,” Torren said, lying through his teeth. He could handle bandits, he could even sneak past a fucking dragon. But lava? An active volcano? That was something he'd never experienced before and wasn't too keen on the idea. 

“Perfect, we will discuss your payment when you get back. Godspeed, I wish to be married by the end of the month!” Little Dick Jr clapped his hands twice, alerting the guards that he was done talking to the half orc. 

Torren bowed his head and turned to make his leave. If he walked fast enough, he could get out of this city by the time the king reached the stairs. The guards had attempted to follow him out, but after they had to literally run to keep up they quit. It wasn't like he was going to do anything anyways. 

He eyed the gods awful bust of Dick jr. and contemplated tripping into it…

No, no. Not yet. 

~*~*~*~

If there were small miracles, Torren may have found one. Sweetie was in perfect condition when he had retrieved her, granted she had been touched by the stable hands and she made sure to voice her displeasure by biting his shirt and nearly throwing him into a mud pile. Sweetie was a sweetheart up until she had the wrath of the gods placed upon her. 

They had made their way out of the kingdom as fast as they could, and Torren was grateful that the guards didn’t give him an official escort out of the kingdom. Though, he had noticed several guards watching him carefully if he lingered too long in an area. Sure, there was traffic, but he was an orc, that was an unforgivable crime don’t you know? He half expected to get harassed when he passed by the front gate guards, but he was uncomfortably surprised to find that they did not. 

Oh, he was going to die on this mission. He should have gotten his affairs in order, who was going to take after Sweetie when he was gone? His brothers were half a kingdom away and his neighbors didn’t know he existed. Now, he was realizing as he traversed the hills, it was a bad time to be a hermit. Sweetie was smart though, maybe she’d find a new hermit to adopt and go about her life. 

Okay, maybe he should focus on traveling and not his soon to be untimely demise. 

Torren had just crested the hill overlooking the neighboring village when a shout came from his right. Looking over, he was wary to see an elf making his way over on his own sturdy steed. The elf seemed friendly enough, though most elves he met rarely stayed friendly. He paused and waited for the elf to approach, keeping a hand on his dagger just in case. 

The elf wasn’t bad looking, kind of handsome really if Torren was being honest with himself. Tall, a bit taller than most of the elves he met, golden skin that would make King Midas jealous. Long brown hair braided back in practicality rather than aesthetic, though it was a tad too ornate for pure practicality. He was dressed in simple leathers, with elven embroidery up around the shoulders, partially obscured by the cloak he wore. 

  “Hail, friend! I see you came from Pufort, a fine accomplishment for those of us considered too “unpure”,” the elf gave a laugh as he settled beside Sweetie. “Gavril, merc for hire,” he introduced himself as he put his hand out.

“Torren,” Torren said as he took the hand and shook it once. A mutual respect was given to the elf, some mercs stuck together, especially those around Pufort. The land wasn’t known for tolerance, mostly the guards fault, and so it wasn’t common to see many mercs who weren’t human. “What brings you to Pufort?”

“Ah, but the king, of course!” Gavril gave the man a bright smile before his smile dropped. “Better to talk here than in the village. Less ears.”

Torren felt his heart drop at the comment, dear gods was this the end? He hadn’t even made it out of Pufort yet! Gods, the amount of fun his brothers would have when they find out that he died in Pufort of all places… 

“I can see you’re freaking out, fear not, I am not going to say “long live Dickie”,” Gavril let out a laugh, and Torren didn’t appreciate it, like, at all. “He hired me a month back, and when I disappeared he chose to hire you.”

“And I should believe you, why?” Torren actually did believe him, it was just the dick move that Dickie would pull. But he was a distrustful man by nature, and so grilling the elf it was. 

“Why would I lie? Being here in of itself is a death sentence for me if one of his guards spots me,” Gavril shrugged. “No, I felt as if the job was far too… strange for me to complete without the full story.”

“And that story was?” Torren raised a brow as he shifted on Sweetie, who snorted in warning as she grazed. 

“The princess, she’s apparently the daughter of the neighboring kingdom, Aster. I did my research and went to them with the information on Richard. They don’t like the idea of an unsavory man such as him “rescuing” their daughter in such an unhonorable way,” Gavril leaned a bit as his voice dropped. “I was riding by, coming back from another business that I had to attend,  when I happened to have heard he had another summons, I thought it was only fair to let you know about it all.”

“And what, exactly, are you hoping to inform me of other than the princesses misfortunes?” Torren leaned slightly in despite himself. 

“I’m to meet another fellow, a minotaur by the name of Jardor. He was the princess's guard before she was imprisoned so she’d be more trusting of us. Her parents hired me to take her Aster instead of Pufort, and their offer is extended to any other mercenary hired by Richard.”

“And this is legitimate? How do you know they won’t cast you off to Richards' wrath once they have their daughter?” 

Gavril nodded as he sat upright. “A fair question, I, myself, found myself doubting it. However, I asked around their former employers and found that they were actually credible. I understand that you have no reason to believe me, but if you are curious you are more than welcome to come with me to meet up with Jardor.”

“And where is he?” Surely a minotaur would be noticeable around a place like Pufort.

“He was smart enough not to come to the welcoming land of Pufort,” Gavril said with a grin. “He’s in Halder’s Rest in the neighboring village, Stonewall, I believe.” 

“And you just happened to be riding by Pufort and saw me?” Torren raised a brow as he leaned back. 

Gavril let out a soft laugh. “Fair enough, I might have been lingering around to see what the little man’s reaction would have been.”

“How? You couldn’t have been allowed in the city.”

“It’s actually fairly easy to sneak in if you find the really dumb guards,” Gavril said with a smirk. “If you talk fast and use big words to explain away things, they simply just let you in.”

Torren shook his head, “very well. I’ll come with you to this Jardor, but I make no promises that I will join you.”

“Of course,” Gavril gave a bow to his head. “Now, what do you think are the odds that these kind folk will allow us to rest in their undoubtedly comfortable inn?”

“‘Us’?” Torren looked at the elf with furrowed brows. Surely he didn’t think they were going to travel to Halder’s Rest together, did he?

“Yes, ‘us’,” Gavril said with a raised brow. “Surely you didn’t think I’d just abandon you to these unwashed masses, did you?”

“Yes?” Torren wasn’t sure who he pissed off up there, but he was fairly sure he didn’t deserve this kind of forced upon companionship here. 

“Oh, my friend,” Gavril gave a sympathetic pout before clapping Torren on the shoulder. “You’re stuck with me.”

Gods help him.

~*~*~*~

Turns out, the good folk were not willing to rent out their plentiful rooms to two distinguished gentlemen like them. So, seeing as the guards started gathering around them once they exited, the duo had opted to camp out on the spacious planes outside of the village. Pro: it was a nice night out with the stars shining bright; con: there were wolves and they very much were eyeing them as a snack.

Luckily for them, the wolves found a rather unfortunate deer and left them alone for the rest of the night. After that, the sleeping got easier, though Torren still kept a hand on his dagger under his pillow. And if he noticed that Gavril did the same with his staff, well, he wasn’t going to be one to talk. 

The morning was a tense affair, Gavril had cooked and while it smelt delicious Torren wasn’t one for accepting food from strangers. But his mother also raised a gentleman with manners so he ate anyway. And it pissed him off more that it was, indeed, delicious in all honesty.

They set off not long afterwards, mounting their steeds and making their way to Stonewall, a village that was a good two hours away. Both Sweetie and Torren did their best to ride ahead of Gavril and his steed, Farren, however the two seemed to be professionals Thorn in his Side, for they stayed right on his heels, humming a stupid little song.

Torren really pissed off some of the gods. 

But, by the Grace of the gods, they finally made it to Halder's Rest with minimal spats. Or, "character building" in Gavril's mind. The vast difference between Aster's civilians and Pufort's was easily spotted. Where an inhuman was hard to see even just passing through in Pufort, it was hard to not see them in Aster. From vendors, to guards, to just a milk maiden lizard girl. 

It felt… welcoming. 

"Halder's Rest is just down the road,'' Gavril said as he led Farren though the bustling roads. 

Torren let him take the reins, not sure if he should run or not. He had no idea really what sort of situation he was walking into. One kingdom was going to be pissed off, that was for sure. Either Pufort or Aster, and he wasn’t sure which one was better. Aster wasn’t known for its military, sure it had it, but no one had seen it in action in well over a hundred years. They preferred to stay diplomatic in negotiations, and somehow it’s worked so far. And yet, he feared what Aster would do if King Richard the Seconded got his grubby little hands on their daughter. 

But another part feared what the King would do to him if he failed to deliver the princess. He wasn’t the first mercenary, and even Gavril admitted he was cheating death when he hung around Pufort waiting for Torren to leave. Pufort was well known for their military power. King Richard was always willing to fling a fleet at a neighboring kingdom, or hell, even his own people, if he felt there was even a hint of offense at him and his legitimacy of his rule. 

He should run, Torren realized. Like now, right now-

“Hey, there he is!” Gavril said as he pointed at the minotaur guard that stood outside the inn with his arms crossed.  “Jardor!”

Jardor looked up with irritation on his face. He was big, even for a minotaur and just as uniquely colored. Most minotaurs that Torren had come across were either brown or black with white colorations. But Jardor was a multi-colored minotaur, white based but he had russet, black, brown and gray mottled on the skin that was exposed through his armor. His horns were wide and angled high, making him more imposing.

“Stop calling attention to us,” the guard hissed as they drew closer. “You could jeopardize the mission.”

“Oh, please,” Gavril rolled his eyes. “There’s only milkmaids here, it’s not that dangerous.”

“The king could find out and send his fleet,” Torren hissed at the elf. 

“Exactly,” Jardor snorted as he shifted his stance. “Our success depends heavily on stealth. Until we deliver the princess back to the capital of Aster, we are not out of the weeds yet.”

Gavril sighed heavily but nodded. “So, are we heading out or is there other business we need to attend to first here?”

“We’ll head out, most of the pleasantries can be exchanged on the road,” Jardor said as he led them to the guards stables and pulled his draft horse out of the stall. As he mounted, Torren surveyed the town. It was a nice place to be, he supposed. But he still preferred his privacy.

“I don’t believe we met,” Jardor said to him as they set out. “I’m the Princesses’ guard, Jardor Stoneskin. And you?”

“Torren Azorrn,” Torren said finally. “Just got hired from the King-”

“-and poached from me once he left,” Gavril interjected with a cheerful grin.

“Yes,” Torren agreed with a heavy sighed. 

Jardor snorted and shook his head. “Of course,” he sighed. “I apologize for him, he was supposed to go home and then make his way back here. Though I am glad he did make the detour, I doubt I would have survived the trip with just the two of us.”

Torren found himself smiling as Gavril let out a gasp of mock hurt. “It is nice to have a more level headed company,” he agreed as Gavril mumbled to himself as the two men snickered. 

“I will have you two know, I am pleasant company!” Gavril said as he steered his horse next to Sweetie. 

“Of course, my friend,” Jardor said evenly with a placating smile. “Of course.”

“Why did you have to return home, anyways?” Torren asked with a raised brow at the elf. He had only mentioned business arrangements, but going home was an entirely different thing “Was that the other business you mentioned earlier?” 

“It was,” Gavril said defensively. “I have people at home who were waiting on me, had to let them know I’d be back for good later than anticipated.” 

Torren nodded and left it at that, he wasn’t going to judge people for their personal affairs, he knew that if he was still in contact with his own brothers he’d be doing the same. They lapsed into a silence after that, save for the occasional direction change from Jardor the other two were content with just following him. Finally, Torren found himself speaking up. “Jardor, if you’re the princesses’ guard, then why aren’t you with her?”

“Ah, there are two princesses in Aster, the one who is heir to the throne and the second in line should anything happen to the eldest sibling,” Jardor said. “The princess I served was the second in line, though she loathed the whole thing,” he added with a soft smile. “When she was...cursed, I was ordered to stay behind and help protect her sister.”

“So she’s cursed?” Gavril asked with a frown. “You didn’t mention that.”

Jardor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, yes, she’s cursed,” he said stiffly. “The sooner she comes home, I’m sure she’ll be closer to breaking that curse.”

“Isn’t true love usually the factor in those curses?” Gavril asked with a furrowed brow as Torren studied the minotaur. 

“Yes, but that is not the case here,” Jardor said with such confidence neither mercenary knew what to do with that. 

“So what is this curse?” Torren asked. “Why was she moved to such a remote location, surrounded by lava and a dragon?”

“It was considered necessary by the Throne, it was not my place to question it,” Jardor said stiffly. 

“So you did disagree,” Gavril noted. “Which means it likely isn’t a curse, and that makes me so much more intrigued, don’t you feel the same, Torren?” 

Torren didn’t comment. But he did note that the minotaur was clearly hiding something, and that made him all the more wary of this job. He should have just stayed home. 

“Must you grate on my nerves, elf-boy?” Jardor snapped as he looked at the elven mercenary. 

“Ah, elf-boy is actually my younger brother, a cute lad but not nearly as annoying as me, elf-man,” Gavril said with a grin, but it dropped quickly in the wake of a grim expression on his face. “Look, we can deal with a dragon, and even the lava. But if she’s cursed, we need to know exactly what we’re walking into.”

“Nothing dangerous,” Jardor promised, and the two men relaxed just a bit at that. The situation was weird, but Jardor radiated a trusting aura that it was hard to suspect they were walking into a trap. At least for Gavril, Torren always assumed there would be a trap involved when he traveled with others. “Just let me take the lead when we get to the tower, a familiar face will help her.”

“How long has she been locked away?” Torren asked finally. 

“Seven years,” Jardor said with a weary look in his eyes, and deeper down, pain. “It’s high time for her to come home.” He nudged his horse, kicking her into a faster gait as they made their way out of Aster and into the wildlands. “That said, we’re a three day journey away from the tower, it’s in a remote part of the country that few travel by. We shouldn’t face any resistance before the volcano.”

“Well then, let’s get ourselves a princess,” Gavril said with a smirk at Torren as he sent Farren barreling after Jardor. 

Torren sighed heavily and patted Sweetie’s neck, “let’s get this over with,” he said to her as he nudged her side gently, a gentle permission to run with the other horses, a permission that she gladly took as she galloped next to their two companions. In just three days, he’ll be fighting off a dragon surrounded by molten lava just to rescue a princess. That was the only certain thing he knew about this mission, if there was a curse, if they could get her to Aster before the King found out, if he still was getting paid.

Gods, was he still getting paid?

~*~*~*~

[eye of the tiger blasting]

Jardor kept the lead, forging ahead when Gavril decided that bickering with Torren was a Lovely Idea. Both men, both adult men, were constantly five seconds away from getting into a slapping fight that escalated when Gavril, a four year old apparently trapped in a twenty eight year old's body, claimed that Torren had hit him. 

Jardor just let it happen when Torren really did hit him. 

Setting up camp was a horrid affair, all three of them were skilled in camping, but those skills had varying degrees. Jardor could put up an excellent tent, but the sleeping cot kept getting tangled and eventually he just laid out on the mess with a stoic resolve. Torren was an expert in putting out his sleeping cot, but his tent kept falling out on one side and eventually he just moved Sweetie over to help keep it propped up with the promises of getting her an extra big bag of oats. And Gavril would put his tent up, but in the process of laying out his sleeping cot the tent would fall. When he’d try to put the cot up first, the tent would fall and he’d have to find his way back out again. And so, in a moment where his remaining two brain cells bumped together, he tied his tent up to the branches of the tree keeping it up and elevated while Torren glared at him from the inside of his lopsided tent that was beginning to smell of horse.

The morning didn’t help anything either. 

Torren, used to years of cooking and traveling by himself, had woken up early and made himself, and only himself, a nice breakfast. The other two, woken by the pleasant smell of bacon and the heavenly sizzle of fresh eggs being cooked, came out of their tents with growling stomachs and crushing disappointment when they spotted Torren eating it all by himself. Jardor was disappointed, Gavril was dismayed. The two had to fend for themselves, Jardor splitting a piece of jerky with the elf as they glared subtly in Jardor’s case, and blatantly in Gavril’s. 

When they finally set back out again, it was in lesser spirits than the day before. They were less than a day away, according to the smell of sulfur that got increasingly heavier as they traveled on. Gavril could see why no one had rescued the princess prior till now, the lands around the volcano were barren, the roads treacherous by hungry wolves. It was dangerous even for the three of them, he couldn’t imagine a merchant or a lone adventurer braving this land.

Well, maybe Torren.

But everyone else would be fucked.

Jardor let out a soft laugh up ahead and slowed to a stop at the crest of the hill. He glanced back at the two catching up, a light shining in his eyes as he grinned at them. “We’re here,” he announced as the tower, tall and magnificent, loomed below. It wasn’t exactly just a remote tower, Gavril could make out some crumbling structures of a once beautiful palace. He wondered, hoped really, that it was still stable and safe for the princess, surely her parent’s wouldn’t have dumped her into this hell hole if it was unstable. He paused, actually, he’s met some gods awful parent’s. It was a high possibility. But that was neither here nor there, the tower was still far enough away, but they would arrive there within the hour if they paced themselves. They still couldn’t spot the dragon, and none of them were willing to go head on against a fucking dragon.

Torren opened his mouth to speak, to ask what the plan was in case the dragon reared its head. But before he could utter a single word, a horn sounded from behind them. The three turned on their steeds to watch as a troop of soldiers made their way towards the tower, banners flying high, and armor glittering in the sunlight. 

Pufort. 

"Fuck," Gavril said with pursed lips. 

Fuck was right. 

~*~*~*~

Princess Amirah was absolutely, and positively bored. She had nothing else to paint, unless Harold suddenly changed their mind about her painting his scales. She’s run dramatically through the hallways a dozen times this morning, and really she wasn’t feeling it for a thirteenth time. All the books have been read, a countless amount of times. At this point she could quote the books and she did, constantly, to Harold as they cleaned their teeth from their meal each night. Harold never spoke as to whether or not they enjoyed it, but she assumed they would have put an end to it by now if they didn’t. 

She sighed heavily as she paced her room, paint brush in hand as she tried to figure out a new canvas. There was still some room on the window sill, maybe even the dresser if she painted small enough. She paused by the open window, the smell of sulfur no longer bothered her as she breathed it in. She barely remembered the smell of fresh, clean air. Or the sound of bustling streets, the maids coming in with sweet hushed words, her mothers hugs…

Amirah shook her head and smacked her cheek chastisingly with her paint brush. No, no thoughts like that, she’s survived seven years without those things, she can survive many more. In all honesty, she probably could leave. It wasn’t like anyone was going to come looking for her of all the princesses in this unholy tower. They were more likely to go for the skinny blonde overlooking the ocean than her. Which was fine, she was the second born princess of Aster, her sister was always considered the prettiest, the fairest, the princess that all should aspire to be. 

Amirah made it her mission to defy that expectation. She hated the princess duties that her mother and sister had forced her to attend. She hated the expectations that were expected of her as the second in line to the throne. To marry a neighboring kingdom, to secure an alliance between the two. To have their heirs and continue the bloodline. It all made her squeamish honestly. In a perfect life, she wouldn’t mind marrying and settling down on her own terms with someone that she truly loved. But she didn’t have the perfect life, she had her mothers expectations and her sister's legacy. 

She was honestly safer in the tower than back home. 

A strange sound filled the air, and a frown pulled at her lips as she looked off outside. She adjusted her glasses as another horn sounded, a horn of all things. Why would a horn be here, who was blowing the damned thing. They were going to wake Harold up!

Leaning out the window, Amirah let out a gasp as banners crested over the hill. Banners that belonged to Pufort, the kingdom ruled by King Richard. In the distance, she spotted three men charging ahead of the group, and hope glittered in her heart as she spied familiar horns. Was Jardor really here? She didn't know who the other men were, or what she assumed were male honestly she knew some beefy female knights, oh gods was Clarissa here? That would truly make her day. 

Before she could speculate, however, a loud roar filled the air and shook the ground. Clinging to the wall, Amirah looked up in slight fear. She knew that roar, and what it meant. A challenge, anyone who wanted her, had to go through them.

May the Divines bless their poor souls.

[aliveanddrunkonsunlight]

acts of service - jaime

Jaime x Brienne + love languages based off @observedchaos post

For @naomignome

*

They are at the Rock, Brienne playing with their children in the surf of the Sunset Sea, when he receives the message from his brother. 

He crumples the paper in his hand, watching his wife’s hair swirl around her face as the wind picks up. Her breeches are rolled up to her knee, exposing those long legs, her pale and freckled skin. Jaime hears her voice raise as Arthur swims out a little too far, a momentary tremor in it. The image strikes too close to his wife’s heart. Her brother. 

He trudges down the beach, not even bothering to pull the legs of his breeches up before entering the water, the salt and brine filling his nostrils, his hand landing on his wife’s back. “I thought you might need some help.”

“Thank you,” she breathes. “Keep an eye on him, please.” Their daughter, Lelia, is paddling around their ankles and Brienne bends down to hoist the girl up on her hip. 

“It’s a beautiful day.” He murmurs, his hand rubbing along her lower back. 

Brienne smiles and shifts her weight towards him slightly, leaning into his shoulder. “It is.” 

“Swim, mama.” Lelia tugs at the laces of Brienne’s shirt which she manages to untie with her very small hands. 

“You’re making your mother indecent,” Jaime remarks, making a face at their daughter. 

Brienne smiles, setting down their daughter again, and then retying the laces. “You’ve seen it all before, my darling.” 

“Doesn’t mean I love them any less.” He presses a kiss to the blush rising in her cheeks. “I got a message from Tyrion.” 

His wife raises a hand to her forehead, shading her eyes against the brightness of the day. “About…”

“Yes.” 

She touches his arm. “And?” 

“He expects a battle.” Her hand slides across his shoulder blade, fingers lazily caressing the back of his neck. It makes his skin prickle and Jaime draws closer to her. 

“And you want to go?” 

“I believe I should.” He knows he is not a strong fighter anymore, but it feels like the right thing: to be with the Lannister men, even if he is no longer a commander.

The waves lap gently at the shore, a reassuring rhythm. “Maybe I should serve in your stead.” 

Jaime laces his fingers through hers and brings their locked hands to his mouth, where he presses a gentle kiss over her knuckles. “I’ll be fine. The men will not let me fall.” 

“You don’t know that.” She steps forward, calling out to Arthur again, but Jaime does not let go of her hand. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I’ll be…” he doesn’t know how to explain it to her, how thinking about them, about their family, drives him in a different way than he’s ever been driven before. “I want to come home.” 

“Are you trying to make me cry?” her voice is strained as she steps into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you.” 

He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening cataloguing all the gentle ways she touches him, reaches out, or communicates through a look. 

The children are scarcely tucked into bed when he is the one reaching for her, dragging her down the hallway towards their chambers. He presses her against the door, his good hand untangling the laces of her tunic, showing her how much he loves the taste of salt on her skin. 

When he drops to his knees, she lets out a gasp, her body arching against the door as he slips her leg over his shoulder. Afterwards, her grip on his hair loosens, fingertips sliding along the back of his neck as he rises to kiss her. She murmurs something against his mouth and he parts enough to hear the words. “I do not want you to go.” 

At Winterfell, they had been together weeks before the battle, and when it was clear they would have to fight, a dull ache echoed in his chest for days. Yet they never talked about what would happen if. Everything was still new between them, neither of them were prepared to lose the other so soon. It was the promise of all the things that could have been between them and to have that ripped away was heartbreaking. 

But now, Brienne clutching him against their bedroom door, it is a much deeper, sharper pain. The thought of them not living out their years together, the idea of their children growing up not knowing their mother or father, or either of them having to hold their family together when the grief threatened to swallow them whole. He does not even want to begin to imagine it. 

He would be lost without her. 

“I should go,” she whispers into his neck. “I am younger.” 

Jaime wants to tease her about implying he’s an old man and had he not just shown her otherwise, but instead he holds his tongue and allows the moment to slip away. “I love you. Let’s speak of it tomorrow.” Tonight, he wants to fall into bed with her and catalogue all the places where her skin is kissed by the sun. 

*

In the end, he is the one who goes. They are a day's ride away from the city, the icy grip of uncertainty settling around his neck like a noose. He is not commander anymore, but he wields enough power to toil over the battle plans, standing over the wooden desk in his tent until his back aches. 

He hears a clamor outside and brushes back the tent flap quickly, fearful of a potential ambush. Instead, he spots a lone rider approaching the camp and men drawing their weapons. The dappled gray mare seems familiar and his eyes fall to the man’s cloak, the combined sigil. “Sheath your weapons. That is no enemy soldier.” 

It is his wife. 

Brienne pulls up on the reins and in a fluid motion slides out of the saddle as he pushes through the crowd. Her feet have barely hit the ground before he is gathering her up in his arms. Their armor clashes together, but he does not mind the noise, only longs to hear her sharp intake of breath and the way she sighs his name. “Jaime.”

“You did not have to come.” 

“I wanted to.” She smiles at him. “We fight beside each other.” 

“We do,” he manages to say, tears threatening to spill over.

Brienne squeezes his hand. “Besides, they are my men, too.” 

To see her embrace all of him--his past, his family, his name--without a second thought makes his heart swell. “That they are, my lady.”

[indigowallbreaker]

(From Megan / petraswyvern)

“bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go” from the fluff list? For Hubernie?

( @petraswyvern glad to get to your request at last! this is also the prompt where I finally remember I’m a fantasy writer and therefore can make up my OWN poisonous plants lol. incidentally, I spent too long researching a good name) 

With a firm hold on his wrist, Bernadetta half guided, half dragged Hubert from the gardens and back into the Varley estate. “I cannot believe you did that!” She snapped. “That part of the garden is roped off for a reason!”

“I did not think merely touching them would be hazardous,” Hubert said, slightly annoyed that he, the injured one, was getting the lecture. “Why do you have poisonous plants on the property anyway? Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep them in the greenhouse?”

“They wouldn’t grow in there so I replanted them. Sit down.”

Hubert sat at a white wood table. They were in a small sun room with various potted plants; some on work tables and some hanging from the ceiling. Bernadetta flung open a cabinet and rummaged through it. “The tall ones with the gray petals are called Ger’s Reine, and they’re not something you want to touch. Brushing against it gives you an itchy rash. And grabbing it is even worse!”

Rarely did Bernadetta get so angry with Hubert. In fact, he had trouble recalling a time he had seen her thing angry with anyone. She had certainly gained confidence since the war. 

She turned back to him holding bandage rolls, a blue bottle, and a cloth. She frowned. “Stop scratching.”

Hubert hadn’t even realized he’d started. He placed his hands palms up on the table to stop himself. Already his fingers were red as if severely sunburned. Tiny scabs covered the area Hubert had been scratching; a few spots had even opened. 

“I’m sorry if I damaged your deadly plants,” Hubert grumbled as Bernadetta dabbed the bottle on her cloth. 

She began wiping the affected area. It made the burning itch turn into a burning pain. “That’s not why I’m mad.” Her scowl faded as the cloth passed over the open scabs and Hubert winced. “I’m mad that you came all this way to visit me and now you’re hurt because you didn’t listen. Now the day is ruined.”

“It’s far from ruined. There is still more garden to see, for one thing.”

“You still want the full tour? After that?”

He tried for a smile, even though her eyes were still on her work. “Of course. Unless there are any other unmarked plants with malicious intent, I think it will be safe to continue.”

That drew out a pout. “Plants don’t have ‘malicious intent’. They’re just trying to survive. Hold still.” She put the cloth aside and began gently rolling the bandages on. “Even poisonous plants need care, you know? That’s why I planted those where they can thrive and have their own space. They may be deadly if treated wrong, but they deserve the chance to live too.”

Hubert watched the bandage wind around his palm as he gave that some thought. Once she was satisfied, Bernadetta clipped the roll and tucked the end of the bandage around itself. As she started on the next hand, Hubert said, “You are missed in the capital, you know. But I’m glad to see you have settled in here nicely.”

“It’s a lot better at home without my father around. But...” Her eyes jumped to him and then back to her work. “I do miss you guys. I have a whole bunch of carnations ready for clipping, so you can give them to Edelgard when you go back.”

“She will like that.”

Bernadetta smiled as she cut and secured the second bandage. She smoothed her thumbs over his right hand. “H-How does that feel?”

“Much better.” The pain had dulled now that the plant’s oils were gone. The urge to scratch remained but it was less with the bandages in the way. “Thank you.”

“Heh. Don’t thank me. My plants did this.”

“It was my carelessness. You did nothing wrong. Your garden is immaculate.” Bernadetta’s smile grew. She traced her fingers around his palm, either checking her work or lost in thought. After a moment, Hubert closed his fingers over her hand. “I have missed you,” he said quietly. 

“I’ve missed you too.” Bernadetta leaned against him as Hubert closed his left hand over hers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“As am I. Ger’s Reine or not.”

He felt her giggle and didn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. One certainly didn’t have conversations like this in Enbarr.    

(send me a ship or platonic pair and a type of hand hold!)

[captainjaspenor]

Fire in My Bones

So I haven't written anything in YEARS, especially not fanfiction, but what can I say? I've been inspired. Anway, here is my first stab at fanfiction in neary ten years. This will be a multi-chapter fic. Please read and let me know if you'd like to be on the tag list.

Show: Cursed

Pairing: Weeping Monk x Reader

Warnings: Violence

Summary: I tried to write one and honestly I sucked at it, so here is a little excerpt instead.

"From the trees, shrouded in smoke, he emerges. The Weeping Monk. Around you the terrified screams of the Fey and the pained groans of the dying fade away. You forget the acrid smell and taste of the smoke and ash as it burns your throat and lungs. You forget Nimue, who is hiding behind you, clutching at your cloak, shaking like a leaf."

Chapter 1: I Saw A City Burning

You see the smoke and know it has to be coming from your village. 

Nimue. 

You dig you heels into your horse’s side and take off at a gallop. You hear the screams and the fighting before you reach the town. As you come to a halt at the top of the last hill to look down at your village, you see the small huts the Sky Folk use as homes are ablaze. The Sky Folk are running around in a panic, pursued by figures robed in red. Red paladins. You heart skips a beat in your chest. Part of you wants to flee into the countryside and leave the Sky Folk to their ruin, but you know you can’t leave Nimue and Lenore behind. You dismount give your horse, Xanthos, a reassuring pat. You hate to go on without him, but you know he is safer in the Iron Wood. And a horse would do you no good in this chaos. You unsheathe your sword and check that your dagger is in place in case you need it. You lift the small pendant hanging from the chain around your neck to your lips and kiss it before tucking it safely into your shirt. 

You take off in a swift jog toward the center of town. The smell of smoke overwhelms your senses and your eyes begin to water almost immediately. You drop into a crouch next to one of the huts that isn’t entirely engulfed in flames and survey the scene in front of you. Many of the Sky Folk are fleeing for their lives, but some brave souls have turned to face their enemies head on and are engaged in battles that are often to the death. You look around, hoping to spot Nimue or Lenore, but you don’t see anyone you recognize. You send up a small prayer that they’ve already gotten themselves out of the village, but you won’t leave until you’re sure they’re safe. Your best chance at finding them in in their hut, but that means running headlong into the fighting in front of you. You swipe at the sweat gathering at your brow and readjust your grip on your blade. 

You sprint toward the next still standing shelter a dozen yards ahead of you. A red paladin falls to the ground in front of you, with a spear sticking out of his thigh. He screams and clutches at his leg, but before he has too much time to feel the pain from the wound, you deliver a quick thrust to his chest. The man tries to let out a startled yell, but only a small cough comes out and droplets of blood splatter on his chin. You shove your foot against him to free your blade. You don’t stick around to watch as the life leaves his eyes.

You try to move quickly, but your path is often cut off by people locked in duels for their lives or panicked animals trying to escape the fire that is spreading around you. You duck as another arrow flies over your head. This one was closer than the rest. Before the archer can take aim again, you run. You’re almost to the hut you’d planned on hiding behind for cover when a red paladin on a horse spots you and changes course toward you. He brings his sword up to strike but you wait until it starts to come down before you roll to the side. His swing goes wide as he races past. He yanks on the reins and turns the horse around to come for another pass, but you’ve already snagged one of your throwing daggers from your boot. It hits him square in the eye and he falls backward off his horse, dead. You keep moving. 

Ahead Lenore and Nimue’s hut still stands, one of the few homes that have not yet been set alight. You push your way past the hides that serve as the door and enter the small dwelling. You are both delighted and dismayed to see that neither woman is here. You don’t have much time; this place could go up in smoke at any moment. You cross to the corner where Lenore keeps a chest with the family’s valuables. Inside you grab the coin purse that holds Lenore’s life savings and tucks it into your pocket for safekeeping. You then go to where your own belongings are stored. You dig beneath your flimsy mattress to pull out your own, much lighter coin purse. In the dresser you share with Nimue, you retrieve three more daggers, which you slide into your boots. You take one last look around at the small hut that had served as your home for the last thirteen years and try to commit it to memory. 

You step out of the hut but stayed hidden under the slanted roof. It wasn’t much, but even if it only obscures you a little bit, it is better than standing out in the open. At least this way, you know your back is covered. Beneath a hut not far ahead, a familiar figure is hiding in a similar fashion. Nimue!

You can’t believe it. You’d found her! After checking that no red paladins were looking your way, you run to the hut Nimue is crouched beside. “Nimue!”

“(Y/N)! Oh, thank the gods you’re here. I can’t find Mother! And one of the red paladins grabbed Pym!” Nimue pulls you in for a desperate hug. 

“I checked the hut. Your mother isn’t there. Do you think she ran?” you ask.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know.” Nimue is panicking, you can tell, but now isn’t the time. 

“Think, Nimue. You know your mother better than anyone. Where would she go?”

“I guess, she… she’d go to the… I-I don’t know,” Nimue says and begins to cry.

“Okay. It’s okay. We’ll find her. And after we find Lenore, we’ll find Pym.” You reassure her. “It’ll be okay, Nimue.” Nimue doesn’t look sure, but she gives you a weak smile anyway and, honestly, you appreciate the effort. 

You check around you and see if any red paladins have spotted you. Fortunately, it seems as though no one is the wiser of two Fey girls hiding almost in plain sight. You try to mentally plot out the best place to search for Lenore without being seen…or without being seen by more red paladins than you can take on in a fair fight. You’re only just coming up with a plan when Nimue begins to violently shake your arm. 

“What?” Nimue doesn’t answer, only continues to shake your arm. “What, Nimue?” You look at her, concentration broken. You realize Nimue is terrified. You turn on your heels to look where she is staring, and your heart catches in your throat. This is what you had been afraid of before.

From the trees, shrouded in smoke, he emerges. The Weeping Monk. Around you the terrified screams of the Fey and the pained groans of the dying fade away. You forget the acrid smell and taste of the smoke and ash as it burns your throat and lungs. You forget Nimue, who is hiding behind you, clutching at your cloak, shaking like a leaf. 

He is dressed from head to toe in black and gray. Even his horse is as black as pitch. Speaking of his horse, it’s the biggest horse you have ever seen, standing at least two hands taller than your own. Reluctantly you draw your eyes away from the mass of black muscle and take in the monk for the first time. He rides slowly. Confidently. As if he doesn’t have a care in the world. As if Fey aren’t being slaughtered all around him.

He dismounts and immediately two red paladins come up to take the reins from him. It takes the both of them to lead the horse away. You watch as the monk walks up to an older man and drops to one knee. You wonder who this older man is to command such respect from someone as dangerous as the monk. The older man greets his younger compatriot by putting a hand on his shoulder. You realize they must know each other well, with the familiarity the two share. The monk rises as the two converse and you become entranced by the interaction in front of you. The spell is broken when you feel Nimue tug at your arm once more. 

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! It’s Squirrel!” Nimue says. You tear your eyes away from the pair in front of you to look over and see the small boy in question wandering aimlessly and dragging a large sword behind him. You realize if he keeps walking this way he’ll be right in the monk’s line of sight. You glance anxiously back at the older paladin and the monk, but they continue to talk, unaware of the young boy headed straight for them.

You have to move. Fast. “Come on.” You grab Nimue’s hand and drag her behind you as you sprint for Squirrel. You pass mere feet from the monk, but the gods must be on your side today, because he doesn’t seem to notice two stray Fey women.

You reach Squirrel and Nimue tells him to follow the two of you as you lead them around an abandoned wagon into one of the last standing structures. “In here,” you tell them. 

The three of you duck beneath the safety of the roof. With your back to them, you keep your eyes on the battle going on outside. You know that you are all that stands between them and a red paladin’s blade. You overhear Nimue tell Squirrel to go hide in Old Man Rock in the Iron Wood and you can’t help but smile, despite all that is going on around you. You’d taught her that when you both were children. 

The two talk for a moment more before Squirrel darts out from behind and disappears into the trees. You make sure he isn’t followed, but no one sees the small boy and as quick as he is, he’s out of sight in no time. You’re thankful he’s out of harm’s way. One less person to worry about. 

“Squirrel says he saw Mother near the temple.” Nimue tells you.

“Then that’s the first place we’ll look.” You say and go to exit the hut. 

“No.” Nimue pulls you back down. “I want you to go with Squirrel and make sure he stays safe.

“If you think I’m leaving you behind, Nimue, then you don’t know me very well. There are dozens of red paladins out there and they’ll kill you if they catch you. They don’t care if you’re girl.” You argue. 

“I can handle a few red paladins.” Nimue argues. 

“You can handle them better with me.”

“(Y/N), I don’t need you to protect me!” Nimue snaps. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what you want. When Mother isn’t here, you take orders from me.” 

“It doesn’t work like that when your life is in danger,” you retort.

Nimue sighs. “Then I’m not ordering you. I’m asking you, as my friend. Please, keep Squirrel safe. He’s like family to me. Please,” Nimue asks. 

You clench your teeth and let out a growl of frustration, but give her a curt nod. “I will protect him with my life.”

“Thank you.”

You stand and pull Nimue over to the edge of the hut. You point out a nearly hidden path in the brush a few yards away. “The quickest way to the temple is down that path. It’s not used anymore, so you shouldn’t run to anyone.” You bend down, pull a dagger from your boot, and offer it to her. “For protection.” 

Nimue smiles and takes the dagger from your hand. “Go,” she says.

You spare one last glace at the ruined village behind you before turning and sprinting off into the woods after Squirrel.

_____

And that’s a wrap on Chapter 1! The title of the fic and the title of the chapter are lyrics from songs. Let me know if you figure out which song the chapter title is from!

In the next chapter, the Reader will meet the Monk for the first time, and let’s just say, sparks will fly. 

Thanks again for reading, and let me know what you think!

[gaylien51]

So this is the first chapter of my story. I’m a beginner writer so if you have any advice feel free to share.

Baron Draxum watched all his precious work go down in flames. The heat overwhelmingly and the fire still roaring. CRASH! Another part of the roof collapsed bringing even more damage. He cursed his now forever enemy Hamato Yoshi. As he begun to walk away from the ruins of his previous lab he thinks of how his lab was destroyed.A prisoner of big mama that he had his loyal gargoyles bring to him for his highly anticipated experiment of creating the perfect soldiers to rain hell upon the vile humans that lived above. The experiment consisted of 4 turtles, a red eared slider turtle, a snapping turtle, a soft shell turtle, and a box turtle. He looked down in his hands to see a small box turtle, the last of his experiments. “ You shall become the perfect soldier, the perfect success, you will be the downfall of humans, the rein of pure terror as everyone kneels down to our almighty power!” Achoo! He looked down at the box turtle in disgust. Ugh germs- and from a mutant turtle no less. He felt pressure on his fingers as he looked down to see the experiment nuzzle into his hands happily cooing and smiling at him. “There is much much much work to be done little one” he expressed with tiredness in his voice.

“ Uhhhh sir, no offense but your mortal enemy who you called us to capture because of his awesome fighting skills, ninjutsu and all that, has destroyed your lab place, burned it down to the ground, escaped with the 3 other turtles, and is most likely mutated into a rat and will raise the 3 other turtles if they survived, and will most likely prep himself over the years to come and fight you, has completely and utterly destroyed your work, soooooooooo where we living?”. Baron looked at the gargoyle on his shoulder (which he solemnly forgot about) and wore a frustrated and pinched expression as he explained the obvious. The other gargoyle on his shoulder also looked at him waiting for an answer to their question. Frustrated, tired,angry, and annoyed Baron Draxum argued in his head if he should kill them for their very annoying existence. “ We will rebuild our laboratory starting from the ground up and prepare experiment 42005 for his long and successful journey of destroying the humans!” He answered with determination. “ As for now we will visit the yokai city and remain there for the time being” he added. Both gargoyle looked at him and shrugged satisfied with the answers. “ hey as long as me and Muninn have a place to stay we’re a-okay with your plan boss man!” replied the gargoyle on his left shoulder. “ what huginn said!” Munnin, the gargoyle on his right shoulder said.

So Baron Draxum, Munnin, Huginn, and the experiment 42005 began their trek to yokai city and onwards to their journey of the destruction of the humans.

CRASH! Baron hurried out of bed and into his kitchen to see his experiment trying to cook breakfast for himself. Tiredness dripped in his voice as he asked “ Little one when I said you must learn survival skills such as cooking, I did not mean to make a mess of the kitchen” his racing heart calmed seeing his son on the counter unharmed but dirty with flour all over his clothes. Which was also on the counters and tables- and how did pancake mix get on the ceiling? All over the kitchen causing quite a mess.

“ I’m sorry da- I mean sir, I was trying to create a acceptable meal for us today but it didn’t go over quite well” replied his son with disappointment and frustration. “ Just make sure to clean this up and meet me in the lab for your training... we will eat cereal so you may have your breakfast”. Internally experiment 42005 groaned at just the thought of eating bland boring old nutritional rations that his dad called cereal. As his dad continued to walk away from him he quickly and expertly cleaned up his mess frustrated at his failed attempt at cooking. Usually he was quite good at this and created the best meals with whatever was stocked in the pantry but his mind was distracted with thoughts of what he’ll do today and this resulted in the mess before him. But he decided to not think too hard about it and stored those thoughts away and quickly finished up. He ran to the lab through the dark and creepy decaying hallways all colored the same dull gray and rusted. He then saw his dad and the left out “cereal” for him and proceeded to make his way to the table with the laid out food and sit and eat it hurriedly. His father in the background working on many technologies to improve their home and for his patrols.

“42005 today is your 13th birthday” his father said suddenly. 42005 stood up from his chair standing tall and proud as he’s always done since he can remember. “As you know I have been preparing you since birth to destroy the vile humans that live up above, the disgusting creatures who forced us down here into yokai city, making us soft, and stealing the surface from us, and- yadda yadda yadda I know dad you’ve been saying this since my birth!” Interrupted his son. Looking at him with a disgruntled expression he stared into his sons eyes as his son stared back. “Ha you blinked! I win” his son said with smug. “ENOUGH!, experiment 42005 you will listen to me! You know I hate interruptions!”. His son cowered a bit internally but did not show it out of fear for punishment. “ Yes sir, I apologize “ he said solemnly. Satisfied with his answer he continued on his rant about vile human as his son mentally bored with the same discussion hes heard again and again and waited for him to finish. “And that is why human are disgusting and you will go on to destroy the- Are you listening to me?!l he yelled. Startling his son out of his short nap. He sighed with dissatisfaction and drag his hand over his face. “ Proceed to training with Munnin and Huginn and the foot bots, later today we shall proceed with your far more intense training and then patrol will happen is that understood?”. 42005 flinched very subtly at the mention of the clan but replied yes and proceeded to go train. The training room was a stimulation his father made that can produce whatever needed. 42005 chose footbots this time as some early practice while waiting for Munnin and Huginn. He tried desperately to bury himself in his training tearing foot bot after foot boy apart with his mystic kusari fundo the fire ball shrieking wildly as their enemies were torn apart. He had started to train with the foot clan when he was 4 and learned quickly how cruel they were. Every mistake he made he was punished for severely. His scars aches just thinking of it. Burning, drowning, poisoned , whipped, and many other methods of torture he had to induce upon people or else he would be punished instead. They told him this was the way of the clan and that it was effective for enemies.They silenced him quickly with threats to not tell his father unless he wanted even more punishments. At age 4 42005 learned what the word discipline truly meant and when to enforce silence. He grew to be one of the most notorious assassins out there a product of the foot clan and his father. He was a cold blooded thirsty terrifying killers known as the fire akuma, the devil, the bringer of death, and many other names. All at the cost of his innocence. At age 8 his father found out about the horrible punishments after hearing the excuse one too many times he was hurt from patrol and training. His father accepted it too busy with projects and destroying humans to pay attention to him. Once he learned of the horrors being done to his creation he rained hell upon the foot and promised 42005 that no one shall ever harm him again. He started paying more attention to his experiment from then on making sure nothing tainted his creation. As time went they grew closer and acted more as father and son although Baron would never admit it as he was too prideful. Baron always felt guilty for his trauma and did his best to help him with it. Although he still had plenty nightmares from the screams he heard and bones being crushed and throats be big split- he was getting far too much in his thoughts. Baron never did explain why he allied with the foot - he never explained many things but 42005 learned to not question it. His father was still very guarded hence why he was never named an actual name instead of numbers.

SWOOSH! Oh right he was training! 42005 lassoed the foot bot who threw kunai at him and threw him at the wall effectively making him short circuit with his neck being twisted at an awkward angle. He proceeded to the next foot bit and threw his fiery friend into the foot not making an effective burning hole. As he continued on with his training his father watched him through the screen at his work station satisfied and proud of his son with what he was seeing. A few hours later 42005 had created and effective pile of destroyed bots and was panting heavily. Baron called for his son over the intercom that connected to the speaker within the stimulation room. Once 42005 came he stood in front of his father waiting for instructions as his patrol would begin soon.

“42005, you have done remarkably well since I have raised you and have succeeded my expectations, you will be sure to wipe out the human race and bring hope for us Yokai and mutants alike to rule the surface, and I am... p-“. Baron coughed on trying to swallow his ego and pride. “ what was that pop?! We’re you going to say-YES LETME FINISH, I just need a second”. 42005 looked smudged and excited staring at Baron who somehow managed to swallow his ego and proceeded with his original saying. “ Yes 42005 I am p-proud of you and I know for certain I can call you my s-son. For your birthday I gift you this and give you your name... Michelangelo” baron heaved a sigh of relief as Mickey squealed and jumped all over. His father had promised him when he was 8 that when he exceeded his expectations of him he would finally give him a name and 42005 or we’ll Mickey hadn’t let him forget since. It was a true sign of parental love and trust. Baron had struggled to do this for so long because he didn’t want to get attached to an experiment that could still fail and he might need to replace even if he started from scratch again. In truth he chose the name Mickey because he read about a renaissance artist once who was named Michelangelo and was highly successful. As Mickey grew up he promised great strength and ambition as well as intelligence but not in the way you think.

You see Mickey has ADHD which caused him to have trouble paying attention during lessons his father was teaching more focused on what to draw and having multiple thoughts in his head. He also constantly had to be doing something wether it was tapping his feet or humming a tune he heard or other things. This quickly annoyed his father as he didn’t know why Mickey was like this and at first assumed it was because he had a lot of energy since he was a child but it continued to happen as he grew up and then mood swings started to appear a lot more. So Baron decided he should look into it more and see what was wrong and found mickeys symptoms to match most of the adhd symptoms. He asked Mickey later that day why he had trouble paying attention and why he was so impulsive and as his son explained he concluded that he had ADHD. He felt guilty for yelling at his son so many times over something he couldn’t control and never asked why he did what he did. He looked up herbal teas and created many medications similar to those used for humans but instead for a growing teenage mutant turtle boy. Of course this didn’t cure his adhd and he’ll always have it but over the years they’ve learned to manage it and what medicines did and didn’t work. But because Mickey had adhd he had to find other ways to do things other solutions. This caused him to memorize skills and cooking and other acedmic stuff in several ways for example most things were labeled around their home and Mikey used lists in order to keep track of things. Once he got a phone he also put reminders on there and his father would also him remind him of his tasks. Growing up Mikey also had special interests such as games, technology, reading but mostly comic books, cooking, and creating art. His father encouraged his behavior as it helped for him to gain confidence and he was able to use it to his advantage in training and fighting. But when Mikey was with the foot clan he was mocked for his habits and drawings. They would tear up his drawings in front of him and beat him when he couldn’t pay attention or he was stimming. This caused him to have low self esteem and ptsd. His father was a busy man selling his creations and do in g business deals among the yokai city so often times he neglected Mikey. Mikey was angry at him for this and this caused a rift between him and his dad he was afraid and scared and needed his dad but didn’t want his dad to find out about the abuse. This left him confused angry and frustrated as well as draxum as he was emotionally stunted. Wanting to know why his son was acting this way he visited the foot clan without telling them and saw Mikey being cut and beaten in a fight as they yelled horrible words at him. This sent him in a rage destroying everything in his path and getting his son out of there. Once in the safety of their home Mikey spilled about everything like an overflowing sink as he kept crying as well. Baron unsure of what to do simply held his son tighter and listened. Once this happened his father became more protective of him but also trained him more to fight back against harmful people and they continued to repair their relationship.

“-ickey, Mickey, MICKEY!” Yelled his father. He rose to attention still full of energy but stood straight waiting for instructions . His father looked at him with his classic I- love-you-so-much-but-your-gonna-be-the-death-of-me look . “It is time to start your patrol, your task today is to find the needed chemicals I sent to your phone to create more mutagen for my oozesquitoes, stay safe out there my son” Draxum patted mikeys head with slight fondness and Mikey beamed at him. He then hurriedly made his way out of his home and towards yokai city. He snuck into a nearby alleyway and drew the symbol for the portal going through quickly to the surface world. He checked his black utility belt for all his weapons. “ I have my kunai, my shuriken, my tento, my kusari fundo, my protein bars -ughhhhhh, my sketchbook, pencil, yup! I think I have everything!” Mikey exclaimed. He skated rooftop from rooftop heading towards the old abandoned factory filled with chemicals his dad usually made him get for his experiments. He was wearing a black hoodie and mask that showed a wide grin of sharp teeth and his skateboard full with stickers that consisted of smiley faces, graffiti words, neon signs, gaming brands, etc. Patrols weren’t necessarily patrols more of errand runs for the human world unless it was an assassination for a human who wronged a fellow yokai. As much as his dad hated humans he worked with the ones from the foot clan for yet untold reasons and had Mikey assassinate humans who were especially evil. The foot clan had also messed that up for him taking away his in once when they started executing innocent people who wronged them and made him watch and kill them. He shuddered at the reminder and of things that still haunt his nightmares and shook his head to be clear of the horrific thoughts. As he jumped from the next rooftop he hears chatter that gets louder and ducks down on a balcony to spy on whoever’s coming his way. There he sees WHAT!?!? 3 OTHER MUTANT TURTLES dad said I was the only one, the only mutant turtle who was trained to be an assassin. Are they even assassins?!? What’s going on? Mikey thought.

Mikey can get angry and sadistic . Can be downright cruel and unforgiving. Can kill someone quick and merciless. He’s a soldier, an assassin, a demon if you will. His names is feared within the Yokai community despite not being a yokai. But that’s to be expected of Baron Draxums son. He’s proud of it and it certainly helps that his dad praises him for it. He’s a turtle or we’ll a mutant turtle ,created to be the perfect experiment. The only mutant turtle in the world. So why the hell does he see 3 other mutant turtles on a rooftop during his patrol?! Unless... No! They couldn’t be! Dad said they had died in the fire! They are dead...right? Or maybe someone stole dads work and mutated 3 other turtles for their own benefit? Or something??? Ughhhhhhh!

Mikey then peered up from the balcony to spy again as he saw the 3 mutant turtles talking amongst themselves and a ...human!!! Aren’t all Yokai supposed to hate humans?! This night just keeps getting confusing! Mikey then decided to look up again and as he shifted around he forget about the skateboard next to him

CRACK!!

The skateboard had fallen of the balcony and broke in two over a dumpster. Mikey froze as his breath was taken away. Slowly he looked up, only to find the turtles gone?

“ Huh? Where’d they go” Mikey climbed onto the rooftop confused and a bit hesitant And then heard some shuffling behind him. He quickly grabbed a Kunai and held it up to one of the turtles neck

“Uhhhh hi? Nice dagger you got there” Mikey stared fiercely at the turtle ready to kill if necessary.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Unwanted Company

Part 1 

A/N: Okay so this is my first attempt at a Lambert x reader thing and I’m not sure how I feel about it.... I think I might’ve made Lambert too much of a dick.... Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: none really, just Lambert being Lambert

Summary: This year, Geralt brings a guest to Kaer Morhen. Not all of those who call the keep home are okay with the uninvited guest. 

The first time Lambert lays eyes on you, he and Eskel were at a tavern outside of Ard Carraigh, The two witchers were waiting for the White Wolf to join them before making the rest of the journey to Kaer Morhen.

The medallion on his neck hummed. Lambert looked up, briefly catching Eskel’s gaze. The older witcher felt it too.

“At least we can have some fun waiting for the old bastard to get here.” Lambert spoke under his breath, shifting in his seat. He expected to find a doppler or maybe even a higher vampire mingling with the humans in the tavern.

“Uh, I don’t think so, Lambert.” Eskel nodded in the direction of the door to the tavern. Lambert turned his head to see Geralt of Rivia making his way through the rather busy crowd. Just behind him was a hooded figure. From the stature, Lambert assumed it was a woman, and he was right. The black hood to her cloak was pushed back to reveal waves of Y/H/C hair. She wore many layers and all of them seemed to be dark colors.

“Now, Lambert, there’s no reason to get mad-,”

“No reason?” Lambert repeated, gesturing to Geralt. “This fucker brings someone new every year!”

“Nice to see you too, Lambert.” Geralt joined the two witchers at the table. Lambert shook his head, looking to you as Eskel greeted the White Wolf.

“Glad to see you could make it this year, brother.”

“Yeah, glad you could bring another witch bitch from the Lodge.” Lambert didn’t take his hardened gaze off of you. You were looking around the room like a deer caught in a pack of predators. Lambert could smell your fear.

Your eyes found Geralt. He waved you over.

“Fucking hell, Geralt.” Lambert ran his hand over his face, leaning back in his chair. “Just when I thought maybe you wouldn’t think with your dick-,”

“Fuck off, Lambert.” Geralt snapped. He pulled the chair next to him out for you.

“Thank you.” You spoke quietly, smiling at the White Wolf.

“Don’t you have enough mages already there to pick from? I think you have enough for the whole winter.” Lambert said.

“This is Y/N.” Geralt watched you sit down next to him. He ignored Lambert, knowing it was the best thing to do.

“What? She can’t pull out her own chair?”

“Lambert.” Eskel said his name but it fell on deaf ears.

“So where did dumbass here pick you up at, sweetheart?” Lambert asked. His voice dripped with irritation.

“Um, he…. He, er….” You looked to Geralt.

“She’s on the run from an assassin. Needs somewhere to lay low for the winter.” Geralt explained.

“So your first thought is to take her to Kaer Morhen?”

“It’s the only place she’d be safe.”

Lambert said nothing, rubbing his brow and muttering something under his breath that sounded like curse words.

“Don’t mind Lambert.” Eskel shook his head. “He doesn’t like strangers.”

“Doesn’t like anyone, really.” Geralt added.

“I understand.” You smiled kindly at the witcher that had scars on the left side of his face. “And I greatly appreciate you allowing me to stay for the winter.”

“If it was up to me, you wouldn’t be going to Kaer Morhen.” Lambert pushed himself to his feet. “Neither would dumbass over there.” He gestured to Geralt before leaving the tavern.

You followed him with your eyes, the smiling falling from your lips.

“I’ll go after him.” Eskel sighed. He left you and Geralt alone at the table.

“I-I really hate to be such a burden, Geralt.”

“You are going to Kaer Morhen with me, Y/N. You aren’t a burden.”

“I don’t want to come between you and them.”

“Lambert’s a prick. He doesn’t like anyone.” Geralt stood up. “Are you okay to begin the trek? Or do you need a moment? Once we start, there’s no safe place to stop until we get there.”

You brushed your hand over your stomach. Your small baby bump was hidden beneath many warm layers of clothes.

“We’re okay to travel.” You smiled at him. “Thank you, Geralt, for everything.”

He nodded once and gestured for you to walk ahead of him.

***

Lambert had taken the lead on his horse, a light brown mare. Right behind him was Eskel. You and Geralt were side by side at the back of the little formation.

Geralt wanted to keep you close should anything happen on the journey up the path to the keep.

It was dark outside, a thick fog rested at the foot of the mountain. As you made the ascension, the fog disappeared.

You’d been traveling for more than twenty-four hours. Your hips ached and your head was pounding. You were exhausted and all you wished to do was get down from the horse and go to sleep.

Once you were inside the first gate to the castle, the three witchers climbed down from their horses. Geralt moved to you to help you down. He made sure you were steady on your feet before he took ahold of the reins to your horse.

“We’re almost there.” He told you. He could see how worn you were and he could only imagine how you must’ve felt. You weren’t used to traveling on horseback for very long.

***

“Vesemir! Tell this dumbfuck that he can’t keep bringing in women claiming they need protection!”

The second the large and heavy doors to the castle opened, Lambert was calling out for a man named Vesemir.

“Lambert.” A man with graying hair looked up from something on a table. “Gotta say, I didn’t miss your big mouth.”

“Haha, very funny. But I’m serious.”

“He’s serious.” Geralt repeated, moving towards Vesemir. The two shook hands.

“Who is your guest?” Vesemir nodded towards you.

“Y/N of Cintra.” You moved to stand next to Geralt, your hands clasped together in front of you. You smiled at Vesemir. “Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here. I am very grateful.”

“Y/N is being hunted by an assassin from Nazair.” Geralt explained. “Lambert, take Y/N up to Yennefer’s room. I need to speak with Vesemir.”

Eskel was busy putting the horses away so that only left Lambert.

“She can find it herself.” Lambert muttered, turning to walk away.

“Lambert.” Vesemir said. The young witcher stopped in his tracks, sighing heavily.

“Come on.” He spoke over his shoulder.

You pulled your fur cloak together and started to follow him.

He led you through a few doorways and then started up a large spiral staircase that followed the wall of a tower.

You paused at the bottom of the staircase, looking up and gripping the railing. You weren’t too sure that you’d make it all the way up the stairs. Your free hand came up to hold your stomach. You just needed to get to the top, then you would be able to rest.

You were almost to the top of the stairs when a sharp pain in your back made you stop. You gasped, knuckles turning white as you held on to the railing even tighter.

Lambert heard the quiet noise and turned around to look down at you.

“What? Never been up so many stairs?”

“I’m okay.” You assured him, a tight smile coming to your lips.

You finished climbing up the stairs.

“Don’t get too comfy here.” Lambert turned and started down the stairs again. “Yen’s supposed to be coming. Then we can have a freaking party.” He muttered.

***

Though you were exhausted, you couldn’t bring yourself to lay down and close your eyes. You had taken a couple layers off and now sat on the edge of the bed. You were braiding your hair over your shoulder.

“Swear to the gods. I’ll burn this whole damn place down.” Lambert grunted as he made his way up the stairs. “I’ll burn it down with me inside. Watch me. I don't give a shit.”

You didn’t have enough time to cover your stomach up. The shirt you wore was form fitting and showed off your growing bump.

“Fucking….” Lambert trailed off, nearly dropping the two blankets in his arms.

You picked up one of your cloaks and hastily put it on.

“You- You’re….” He couldn’t seem to get the word out.

“Pregnant.” You nodded gently.

He hesitantly moved to place the blankets on the bed. He crossed his arms and then ran a hand over his face.

“It’s-It’s not Geralt’s. Can’t be.”

“It’s not his. Geralt is simply a good friend.” You explained.

“Right. Right.” Lambert nodded his head. He turned and started back towards the stairs. “Just our fucking luck.”

***

“I mean, what the fucking hell, man!”

The witchers sitting at the table in one of the rooms lifted their heads to look at Lambert.

“Were you going to tell us you brought a pregnant woman here?”

“She doesn’t want many to know, Lambert.” Geralt sighed out.

“Your guest is pregnant?” Vesemir turned his attention to Geralt.

“Her husband was a general for the Cintran army and a good friend. He helped keep Nilfgaard from Ciri. He died a month ago. I promised him that I’d keep Y/N safe.”

***

The next morning, you made your way down the staircase, admiring how the light beamed through windows and gave the tower a warm feeling.

You didn’t remember much of the layout of the castle. You were so exhausted the night before that all you cared about was sleep.

Luckily, you could hear voices as you neared the bottom of the stairs, so you followed them.

“I’m never traveling with her again, Geralt.”

“You’re so dramatic.” A female voice spoke.

You found a group sitting at a table in the corner of a large room. You could recognize each of the witchers and Cirilla, but there was a man and a woman you didn’t know.

The talking fell silent as everyone noticed you.

“Lady Y/N!” Ciri bounded to you, carefully hugging you. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, princess.” You smiled down at her, brushing your hand over her hair.

“Ah! You are the one I’ve heard so much abou!” A man with brunet hair and a rather bright smile approached you, holding his hand out. “Julian Alfred Pankratz. You can call me Jaskier.” He brought your hand up to his lips.

“Everyone calls you Jaskier.” Geralt rolled his eyes.

“Easy there, bard.” Lambert said. “She’s pregnant.”

Your cheeks flushed and you immediately felt self conscious. You couldn't help but feel afraid and scared, but you reminded yourself that Geralt was here. He wouldn't let anything happen to you.

“Well, you look absolutely stunning, darling.”

“Thank you.”

“Y/N, this is Yennefer and Jaskier.” Geralt introduced, gesturing to both as he said their name. “And you met Vesemir last night.”

“Thank you again for letting me stay. All of you.” You looked at the witchers. “I’m so thankful.”

“We didn’t have much of a say.” Lambert spoke under his breath.

Eskel elbowed him in the side.

“Then I’m even more grateful to be here.”

“Don’t mind Lambert. He’s bitter about everything.” Vesemir sighed. “Have a seat. Y/N. You shouldn’t be on your feet.”

“Oh, thank you, Vesemir.” You smiled as you sat down at the table beside Ciri. “But I’m not that pregnant yet.”

“How far along are you?” Ciri asked.

“Twelve weeks.” Yennefer answered for you. You turned your head to look at her. “Approximately.”

You remembered hearing that she was a mage, so you didn’t question her. You smiled softly, your hand rubbing your stomach.

“If I may ask, who is the lucky father?” Jaskier asked you, glancing around at the wolves at the table. In the moment, he completely forgot that witchers couldn’t have children.

“Why are you looking at us, chucklefuck?” Lambert spoke.

“He died not too long ago.” You answered with a forced smile. You didn’t want them to feel sorry for you. You didn’t want pity.

“Oh. I-I’m sorry to hear that.”

“How long is she staying here?”

“As long as she needs, Lambert.”

“Why?” Geralt asked Lambert. “Are you going to kick a pregnant woman out into the wilderness of Kaedwen in the middle of winter?”

“Right now, I wanna kick your ass out, Geralt.”

“Quit being such a dick, Lambert.” The White Wolf sighed out.

Lambert shot to his feet, his fist hitting against the table. You flinched from the sound.

“I’m not allowed to get pissed? Huh, Geralt?” He raised his voice. “You bring every fucking woman you come across here to Kaer Morhen! This isn’t some fucking sanctuary for all the troubled women you find! This is our home!”

With that, he stormed across the room and disappeared through a door.

“Geralt….” You whispered, blinking the tears away. Was the witcher really trying to make you feel unwelcome? Was he wanting to make you feel like the biggest burden ever? “I don’t…. I can’t come between you and your brother.”

“You aren’t, Y/N.”

“But he….” You trailed off, looking in the direction Lambert had gone in.

“Y/N, Lambert’s a complicated guy.” Eskel started. “Every time someone new comes here, he flips out and has his dramatic tantrums. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

You nodded your head, sniffling and taking a deep breath through your lips.

“He seems even more of an asshole than usual.” Yennefer commented.

“He’s just on guard because there’s been word that Kiera may come this winter.” Vesemir explained. “I don’t know much, but when they last saw each other it was messy.”

You stood to your feet and smoothed out your cloak. As you turned to walk away, Geralt spoke.

“Where are you going?”

“Just need some fresh air.” You answered with a tight smile.

Note: I don’t even know who to tag for this.... I’m gonna tag those who requested to be on my everything taglist which include @wayward-dream @jennylovelyheart and @romancebibliophilia and then I’m gonna tag @hina-chans-stuff cause I don’t know???? Maybe you might like it??? but probably not cause its complete shit tbh :)

If you want to be tagged in any future specific works (Geralt fics, Yennefer fics, Steve Rogers fics, Tony Stark fics, etc) just let me know! I can add you to my taglists :)

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

a redo or sequal to my previous ask where the prince isnt arrogant or an asshole and the knight never rejects him?

I apologize for not realizing that you wanted the prince to be humble and that the knight wasn't suppose to regect him. I just did not pick up on that when you messaged me about the story, so I am sorry.

However, I am not redoing the story because I spent a couple hours on it and put some effort into it and also I have a plan to "redeem" him from his arrogant qualities.

And finally to the anon who I know is not an anon. Yes, I know who you are just by how you asked for it. Correct me if I'm wrong.

@chicken0mcnugget I am including some of those oh so wonderful plot twists we thought of, so please make time in your day to read this (if you can of course, i know you're busy).

Anyway, enjoy.

Oh yeah, not edited. Sorry, I want to try to write at least half of another ask tonight.

The Knight and the Prince Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: aftermath of rejection, ambush, arguing, kidnapping, kicked by horse, implied broken hand, magic

~

A shocked chorus of gasps followed the knight's unexpected rejection, but perhaps the loudest astonished voice came from the cracked throat of the prince.

"What?!" He exclaimed, gasping slightly. Or was that due to the fact that he was trying not to cry?

"Yeah," the knight crossed her arms, leaning her weight to one leg. "You heard me. No."

"You'll be arrested for this," the prince threatened, standing up. His face was a pure mixture of anger and loathing, blue hair dangled into his gray eyes.

"Great way to foster a relationship," the knight clapped her hands mockingly.

"Just wait until he get home," the prince growled before turning around to receive his uneasy praise.

After the unruly clapping was done, the prince was given a wreath made of flowers and grapevine. He took them greatfully, a small smile on his face, completely devoid of any emotion- sadness, embarrassment... just pure nothingness other than faux euphoria.

"Thank you! Thank you, for the kindness and acceptance you have shown me King of Neighboring Kingdom and to you, my worthy opponents. It has been a pleasure, but I must return to my kingdom. Good day!" The prince waved to the crowed, trotting leisurely on his horse.

"Why must you go?" A loud voice boomed for the King of Neighboring Kingdom stood up in his seat. "Dine with us! Make yourself comfortable, Champion."

"I'm afraid not," the prince politely turned down the offer. "I apologize for such a short stay, but I must head to my home kingdom."

The prince smiled broadly at the crowd before turning his horse. The smile immediately turned into a sneer the second his charcoal colored irises met the blonde knight's fair face.

The two stared long and deep at each other with such intensity and notion that neither noticed, nor heard, their neighboring king whisper to his nearby captain:

"Get the bag of jewels in the knight's saddlebag and then bring me them along with knight herself. Let this be a lesson to them, no one declines my offer of hospitality, absolutely no one."

The king cleared his throat before continuing,

"Not even the grandest and strongest prince of the century."

《~~》

The duo walked their horses through the forest in silence for a while, until they came upon the welcoming village where they stayed a couple nights before.

"You can't just regect your future king, my knight," the prince scolded, taking on a teacher's mannerism.

The knight didn't respond. Actually, she clucked her horse forward until she was a good few strides ahead.

"Knight ta-"

"Why would I marry someone who only cares about his wife being the prettiest, strongest-"

"No, no, no," the prince shook his head. "That, that's not it whatsoever."

"Then why do you want to marry me. Give me a reason, right now."

"Because I love you."

The knight turned her chestnut mare around, throwing her arms up in the air, and glaring daggers at the prince. "I am," she said. "your bodyguard. We've never went on a date, or even talked about anything other than business. How can you love me when you don't even know who I am?"

"Knight, I-"

"Just stop, Prince," the knight shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "Just stop, please."

The knight turned her horse back around and asked for a trot.

"Knight!" Called a voice, but the knight ignored the prince's pleas of return.

"Go on a date with me. Right here, right now."

The knight pulled back on the reins, and once again turned the mare around- the mare who had her ears pinned in annoyance.

"Now?" The knight scoffed.

"Yes, now," the prince gave her a flirtatious smile, white and wide. "Please?"

"Mm I-"

An arrow whizzed past the knight's shoulder- obviously trying to miss. The knight quickly drew her own bow and loaded it while the prince got ready with his sword.

"Ambush," the prince whispered earnestly. The knight nodded.

Another arrow flew past the pair, nicking the chestnut Arab's shoulder. The horse spooked, jumping into the stallion. The knight looked down an the wound, not too big and wouldn't require immediate attention.

Then, the raining arrows ceased, leaving the forest in stunned silence. The prince started to lower his sword- an ignorant move- but the knight kept her bow loaded and ready.

Abruptly, a figure crashed into the prince, knocking him off horse who reared in surprise. The knight wheeled her horse around with just her seat, the Arab mare picking up on the danger.

On top of the prince laid a human, a man of burly weight and heavy iron metal. The knight released an arrow, but it bounced harmlessly off his back.

Before the knight had a chance to grab another arrow, arms grappled around her pulling her off the horse.

"Let the prince go!" One of the men holding the knight bellowed. The man reclining on top of the prince chuckled and said,

"Why? He is plushy, like a chair, with all that fat-"

"GET OFF!"

"Okay, okay," the muscular man hopped off and helped the prince to his feet. "Hope that won't bruise," he whispered, ruffling the blue hair on top of the prince's head, laughed once more, and joined his patrol.

Two men held the knight in between their hefty steeds- shires, no doubt, and not the knight's favorite breed.

"Let her go," the prince reached for his sword, but it was quickly kicked away.

"Get the jewels," the man with the booming voice ordered. Two skinny, probably teenaged, boys ran to the chestnut mare and grabbed her reins. The knight watched as her horse reared and striked one of the boys in the hand, who came back hollering, but the other was able to open the saddlebag and retrieve the jewels.

"Perfect." The loud man wrapped the knight's hands with rope and swung her over the chestnut mare's back, tying her wirsts to her ankles.

"Let her go!"

"Let me go!" The knight struggled and struggled, but failed to rip through the ropes. The prince ran towards his love with madness in his eyes, but a swift backhand sent him sprawling to the ground.

"Let's get!" And they all ran off.

《~~》

"Why I am here?" The knight asked as she lazily knelt in front of the king, her hands still bound in front of her. Her demeanor was let's say disappointing to the king. He expected fight and courage, not the saddened girl practically sitting on his red carpet.

"I hate people refusing me," the king quickly explained. "And your prince, well, beating my son just not win a trophy and a one way ticket out of my kingdom. Mm, mm, mm no it does not. So, you, will have to pay."

"Love the monologue sir, but we have an army and in case you didn't realize, the prince kind of is in love with me," the knight retorted, some of her previous energy and smartness returning to her voice and posture.

"Now, now, don't need to get like that;" the king chuckled. "He won't be able to find you. Guards! Take her to the Enchanted Cabin and have the sorcereress put a spell on. Whichever one she deems appropriate."

《~~》

The prince recovered from the blow, groaning as he got to all fours. Squinting through his still muddled vision, he made out his black horse grazing a few feet away. At least he has the heart to stand by me...

The knight.

The prince rushed to the horse and leaped into the saddle- which was horribly ruined for good measure, apparently- and galloped off. He recognized the colors.

Green and pink- the colors of Neighboring Kingdom.

The prince, for once realizing the lack of speed his horse was granted with, pushed him forward. By the time they were on the edge of the territory, the horse was dripping with sweaty lather.

The prince busted through the doors of the castle with his boot, sword clanking against leather chap, as he stormed over to the old man in the throne.

"Where is the knight? Where is she!"

"Locked away in an enchanted cabin. Why, may I ask? Being in there with all the pleasures in the world is most definitely more enjoyable than living the rest of her life with your royal jackass," the king tutted. The prince scowled and ran back out the door, desperation getting to him.

《~~》

Like King of Neighboring Kingdom told the lovestruck prince, the elegant lady was stuck in a world of earthly pleasures- food all over from storage in the walls, sugar off the ceiling. The backroom was expandable as well, leading into a meadow filled with dainty foals and grand stallions.

But the knight, amidst these treasures, was not blissfully exultat like the sorcereress imagined.

"Need anything else, dear. A kitten?" The sorcereress waved her hand and three mewling balls of fur sprouted from her hand.

"I shouldn't have said no, I shouldn't have," the knight whimpered, chastising herself for her arrogance. If she said yes, she wouldn't be lolling in self-pity and would probably find a way to break out.

"You can always say yes," the sorceress tried to reason. She suddenly glanced out the only window and a faint smile appeared on her face. "You will get your chance again," she promised, flicked her fingers, and vanished into thin air.

The knight looked out the window, curious to see what the sorcereress found so interesting, and nearly exclaimed in joy.

The prince, coming to save her.

"Knight!" He yelled.

"Prince!" She squealed back, jumping on her toes.

She reached her hand out to grab his and-

Boom!

The prince was thrown backwards, spiraled through the air, and landed on the forest floor.

Great, just oh so great.

The prince tried again. Once, twice... three times... four... until he gave up, reclining against a tree awkwardly.

"Try the door?" The knight asked, leaning against the windowsill. Even though she could leisurely dangle her arms, the door was still locked even to her.

"No," the prince shook his head. "It is under a magic spell. I-i can't..." he sighed, "It is under a Personified Spell. That means, that the one breaking in has to overcome their greatest fault."

The knight's face dropped, as did the prince's.

"Arrogance," they whispered at the same time. The prince sighed and stood up, walking as close as the mystifying barrier allowed.

"I love you," he said, tears in his eyes, before walking away.

"I love you too," the knight whispered and sunk to floor, crying softly,

"I love you so much."

[more-pokeimagines]

Stone Cold Body [07] - Chapter 6

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize for abandoning this fic for a while. I just couldn’t motivate myself to continue it since I felt like most people weren't interested in this series but I finally managed to finish the new chapter. I revamped the plot a bit and removed some filler scenes, so I hope it won’t take me too long to get the next chapter done. Anyway, have fun reading! Feedback is always appreciated. <3

Warnings: mentions of violence

Taglist: @piershoesz, @alovestruck-fool, @shaak-ti-s, @spair-m

Past

Bede was exhausted. He had spent the entire weekend with his sister’s future husband, showing him around the kingdom and taking him to a hunting trip to the deep forests at the borders of Galar. Although the young man probably wouldn’t become king himself, Lewin I. had advised his son to introduce Carlina’s fiancé to every important person in the North, including the Duke of Hammerlocke who had invited them to join their hunting party. Now, he was on his way back to the castle while Carlina and her fiancé had decided to stay at the Duke’s palace for a little while longer to spend some more time with each other.

The young prince sighed. He knew that Carlina didn't love her fiancé but he hoped that he would make her happy nevertheless. She was the purest soul he had ever known and deserved nothing but the best. At least for once, Bede and his father agreed.

Star, his dapple-gray mare, nickered, almost as if she wanted to express her approval of his thoughts, and he leaned forward to ruffle her mane. “I know you’re tired. When we get back home I make sure to find some nice green apples for you, alright?”

He always did that; talking to his horse like it could actually understand him, no matter how often others made fun of him because of that. To him, Star had always been a part of his family, his best friend; the one who patiently listened to him when he needed to pour his heart out to someone. Aside from Carlina, the mare was the only one who actually cared about him. Sure, his mother had always tried her best to shield him from his father’s wrath, especially in his early childhood, but not even she could convince him to carry out his strict educational methods.

Bede shook his head, trying to get rid of the unpleasant memories that crept up on him in the back of his mind. He didn’t want to think about these things now; it only reminded him of all the bad things that had happened in the past and the unbearable weight he would carry on his shoulders as soon as he became king. He had spent so much time wondering if he could be equal to the task, hoping that he wouldn’t disappoint everyone who lived in the kingdom, but at the same time, he knew that he didn’t have a choice anyway. He was the firstborn, the heir to the throne, and there was nothing he could do to escape his fate. Sooner or later, the well-being of an entire kingdom would be in his hands.

Star nickered again but this time, it sounded like she disagreed with him. He knew that he was imagining things but it was oddly comforting to interact with her. “It’s so hard to figure out how to be a good king,” he said and patted her withers. Then, a lot more quietly, he added, “I just don’t want to be like my father.”

He went silent after that. In less than an hour he would be back at the castle where he needed to report every single detail about the trip to the king, including everything Carlina had said about her fiancé. Bede was tired of being his father’s spy but since he knew that King Lewin only wanted the best for his daughter – just like Bede himself – he didn’t mind it too much this time.

It was only then when Bede realized the unnatural silence that surrounded him. The birds had stopped chirping, and there was no wind that was breezing through the leaves. Even the sound of Star’s hoofbeats had almost lapsed into silence.

All of that supported only one conclusion: there was some kind of magic in play, and Bede knew the sorcerers and their rightful anger all too well to hope that they weren’t here to hurt him. In the end, he was still part of the royal family, and they would take every opportunity to take revenge.

Star let out a piercing whicker and reared up when two people stormed out of the forest. They were both wearing dark cloaks; the hoods were pulled down so far that Bede couldn’t see their faces. One of them – a young man, judging by his figure – grabbed the reins, trying to hold Star back. The mare rolled her eyes and whickered again as she started to buck.

Bede was being flung forward, barely holding onto Star’s back. The next second, the other sorcerer grabbed his lag, effectively pulling him off the saddle and tackling him to the ground. Bede’s head dashed against a rock, and then, everything went dark.

*

When Bede woke up, the first thing he noticed was the terrible pain that pulsated through his skull. He reached up and felt his temple, realizing that there was dried blood on his skin. Every bone in his body hurt. For a second, he wondered if it felt like that to be trampled down by a hard of cows but his head hurt way too much to think about things like that for longer than a moment.

Bede slowly sat up and let his eyes wander, inspecting his surroundings, although it was so dark that he could barely see anything. But after a while, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness well enough to realize that he was sitting in some sort of cell, maybe in an underground dungeon because there was no window, only masonry from which droplets water were dripping to the ground in a steady rhythm. Right in front of him, he could see a cross-bared prison door, reaching from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. If he hadn’t already suspected it, he would’ve realized that someone had locked him in by now. And somehow, he knew who was behind all of it.

Although he could only remember the attack and the following fall vaguely, there was no doubt about the fact that the sorcerers had taken the opportunity to kidnap him. He just didn’t know why. If they thought that his father would stop persecuting them just because they had the prince in their grip… well, they surely would be met with disappointment. There was no way King Lewin would give up the witch hunt, not even if they used his son as some kind of leverage.

It would be a whole different story if they had kidnapped Carlina instead, Bede thought with a hint of bitterness. If the sorcerers had threatened her, the king wouldn’t have hesitated to send an army to get her back. Bede knew that he was far more important for the kingdom than his sister but he wasn’t under the illusion that his father loved him enough to do everything in his power to free him. Especially now that Carlina had a fiancé who would be the heir to the throne in case of the prince’s death, his father wouldn’t risk starting a war and losing his supporters during the course of the battles just for the sake of getting his son back.

With a quiet sigh, Bede shook his head, trying to get rid of the hurtful thoughts. Surely, it didn’t matter whether his father tried to get him back or not; he wouldn’t be able to find him down here anyway, so it was probably better to come to terms with the facts – he would never get out of here. At least not when the sorcerers didn’t want him to.

It was only then when he realized that he wasn’t alone. A few meters away from his cell, he could see a woman, dressed in a simple skirt and blouse, a dark cloak around her shoulders. The hood was hiding her face but not enough to hide her self-satisfied smile as well.

“So, we meet again, little Princeling,” she said softly, slowly approaching the cell. “I must admit that I always assumed it would be harder to capture you. But you were an easy target.”

“You,” Bede replied through gritted teeth. He didn’t need to see her face to recognize her; her voice was enough to know that this was the same woman who had approached him at the ball where she had pretended to be Princess Amelié’s lady-in-waiting. He had almost forgotten her and her preposterous threats but now that he came face to face with her again, he wished he would’ve believed her words back then. Maybe it would’ve given him some sort of advance right now, maybe he could’ve figured out her plans over the past few months. But no, he had pretended that nothing of it had happened and now, he had to pay for his arrogance.

The woman nodded, her smile growing a bit wider, almost as if she could read his mind. “I’m sure you are wondering why I brought you to this place.”

“To kill me, of course,” Bede said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, dearie, no.” The woman clicked her tongue. “I only want to have a little conversation with you. I’m sure that is not too much to ask, or is it, Your Highness?”

Coming from her mouth, the title sounded almost like an insult but Bede only cocked his head and looked at her. Over the years, he had learned how to hide his emotions; a talent that would come in handy now. “Well,” he said, his expression completely blank. “Then talk. I am listening.”

“First of all, you need to listen to my story. If you don’t know what my family had to go through because of your father you won’t understand why I’m asking for your help. So, are you willing to listen to me?”

“You are asking for what?” This time, Bede had trouble with hiding his emotions. Her words had completely taken him aback, and for a few seconds, he could only stare at her as he tried to understand what she was talking about. When she saw the confused expression on his face, she smiled once again. “I’m asking for your help, my dear.”

*

She had left him alone to think after she had finished her story. “My name is Brigid,” she had said. “The girl the king killed at the stake a few months ago… she was my sister. Belia. She was the purest soul I ever met, and now she is dead because your father is so consumed with his prejudices and hatred that he can’t see the truth anymore. But my sister isn’t the only one he took from me.”

And then, she had told him everything about her life; what King Lewin did to her and her people, what he did to her family. And with every word she had said, Bede could feel how the world his parents built around him was starting to crumble into a million pieces.

But he still had trouble with comprehending her words. If the things she said were true, it would mean that he had lived a lie since he had been born. It would mean that nothing his parents had told him was true; that they had lied to him right from the start.

He buried his face in his hands as he tried to bring order into the chaos of his mind. Could he trust Brigid? Or was she just trying to drive a wedge between him and his family to convince him to help her?

He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Everything she had told him had sounded insane and absolutely impossible but on the other hand, he knew what his father was capable of. King Lewin didn’t stop at nothing; he would do anything to preserve his power but then again, what if Brigid had been lying? Bede couldn’t burst the bonds with his family just because a woman he barely knew told him wild stories about her past and the kingdom. Growing up, he had learned that sorcerers were known to be manipulative and dishonest, and his father never missed an opportunity to tell him that they couldn’t be trusted, no matter the circumstances. So, why was he still confused?

The answer to that was actually pretty simple: he didn’t know who he could trust. On the one hand, he knew that his father wasn’t the most honest man, and Bede wouldn’t be surprised if he kept the truth from his family for all these years but on the other hand, he had no proof that Brigid didn’t lie to him as well. He had no reason to believe her. It probably wasn’t too far-fetched to assume that she only tried to use him against his family, so it definitely would be wise to ignore the incredible story she had told him. After all, there was nothing she could do to give evidence of her words.

Bede groaned. He already started to feel dizzy from thinking things over again and again, and he was still going round in circles. No matter what he decided to believe – he would end up with betraying someone. The only question that remained was who he would betray: a woman he barely knew or his family.

Keeping things in perspective, the decision was quite simple. Bede had no reason to doubt his parents or the things they had taught him about the sorcerers and the history of the country. The only thing that stopped him from choosing a side was his own insecurity – and fear. Although he would never say it out loud, Bede had to admit that he was afraid of the consequences he would face after making his decision. If he sided with the sorceress, he would definitely lose everything he had, starting with his title and claim to the throne through to the right to be a member of the royal family. But if he decided to stay loyal to his family, he risked incurring Brigid’s wrath and probably would end up dead. So, in the end, he would be the victim, no matter which side he chose.

Bede let out a deep sigh, and after a few moments of collecting his thoughts once again, he closed his eyes and finally made a decision.

*

Brigid returned two days later. In the meantime, two other sorcerers, an elderly man and a girl, had provided Bede with water and a few bites of food but Bede had been so nervous all the time that he barely got anything down. He had spent the majority of the time musing if he had chosen the wrong side but, in the end, he had managed to convince himself that he was doing the right thing.

With that in mind, he could wait for Brigid calmly. His face showed no emotion when she approached his cell, her lips curled into a smile that showed her confidence in her plan, her eyes filled with hope and excitement.

“Hello, my dear,” she said softly and reached out to curl her fingers around the bars of the cell door. Glacially, he returned her smile. “Good evening.”

“Have you thought about the things I’ve said?”

Bede nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, keeping his eyes glued on Brigid who returned his gaze expectantly. “Can I count on your help, then?”

His smile faded, making room for the emotionless expression he had practiced during his upbringing as crown prince of Galar. “No,” he replied slowly. “I will not help you to betray my own family.”

For a few seconds, there was something like utter disbelief in her eyes but soon enough, she had regained her composure and took a step back from the cell door, her hands shaking ever so slightly as she took them from the bars. “After everything I’ve told you,” she whispered, “you still believe them?”

“Of course I do. They are my family and I love them. You, on the other hand, are a stranger to me, so why should I believe you? I have no possibility to find out whether you tell the truth or not.”

“Oh dear.” A hint of pity flashed over her face. “You have chosen the wrong side.”

“So be it.”

Brigid sighed but when she looked at him again, the expression in her eyes was no longer hopeful. Instead, they were filled with burning anger. “It would’ve been nice to work together with you but in the end, I don’t need you to realize my plan,” she said. “They will regret what they have done to me and my family. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“You must be insane when you think that I will be intimidated by your empty words,” Bede spoke condescendingly and fixed her gaze on her as she clenched her fists. “You and your kind can only lie and betray and hope that nobody notices how reprobated and selfish you are.”

“Your arrogance will do you no good, little Princeling,” the sorceress replied and laughed when he raised his eyebrows at the involuntary nickname she had given him, “one day, you will get what you deserve. And I hope I will be there to see it.”

Masterlist / Next

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part II)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Coming home is melancholy and cold, and your squadmates ask you to do what you couldn't do for a year: speak up and find out what's going on inside Eren's mind.

Words count: 5.3k

They say that when a loved one leaves this world, the days follow turns gray, colorless; How ironic to think that the day we buried Sasha was gray, there wasn’t a trace of the blue sky or some solar ray that could give us the warmth we were lacking. It was cold, a cold that got into your bones and no matter how many hugs and words of mutual support we gave each other, we couldn’t get the warmth we needed.

My soul had been fragmented the moment Sasha left this world, but seeing my friends cry at her grave and leave bouquets of flowers, it fragmented even more. I wasn’t able to meet Nicolo's eyes, my guilt prevented me. Inside, I wanted this Marleyan to yell at me, to tell me that he hated my presence, that Sasha's death had been my fault, and that I should have given my life if it meant saving her. I wanted with all my being that he would give me a reason to really feel guilty.

On the way back to the island, the others assured me that her death wasn’t my fault, that I did everything possible to keep her alive. But my ineptitude, my grief, my low self-esteem prevented me from seeing things clearly. I just needed… something to hold onto.

And I wasn't getting anything.

I felt how I was slowly sinking into the rabbit hole, without the possibility of clinging to a tree root. I was falling, falling, falling, unable to know when I would hit bottom. But that bottom came fast before I could have predicted, because minutes after Nicolo arrived, Sasha's father arrived too, bouquet of beautiful red flowers in hand.

I broke myself. The two people who longed for Sasha most in their lives were standing in front of me, mourning the loss of her young soul. The two people who would hate me the most in the world, standing over my friends's grave. I fell to my knees in front of them and in front of her grave, silently begging for forgiveness.

My tears fell incessantly on the freshly stirred earth as did my fingers, imploring this burden on my chest to dissipate, as if unconsciously I was wishing for Sasha herself to forgive me for letting her die. How could one cope with this heinous feeling? How could I go on, knowing that the world was falling around us, unable to know if the next day we were going to be alive or if Marley would initiate an attack from which we weren’t going to be able to defend ourselves?

My head was racing a thousand per second and the only thing I could let out were those sobs that had accompanied me so much on the way back, the same ones that cradled me to slept, and the tears that so much wanted to dissipate the pain in my soul.

It is said that when a person leaves this world, some people are unable to handle grief, just as they are unable to articulate a word. Apparently I was one of those people.

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Nights and days passed. Those of us who survived the attack on Marley stayed in commune trying to encourage ourselves to continue fighting. Hange had recommended us to rest, since the psychological damage could cause us several injuries in the future, and as for Eren ... we weren’t very aware of him. The last we heard from our commanders is that he was locked away from all human contact, stipulating that it would be better to keep him locked up for a while and let whatever shit that was going through his head dissipate.

But that was complete bullshit. I knew that, even locking him up, they weren't going to be able to change the thoughts that tormented Eren so much. I knew that, whatever was wandering through his mind, he wasn’t letting him alone and he would never let go. How did I know that? Because I spent a whole year trying to get him to let me enter in that shell he has been forming in recent years. I tried very hard to get him to tell me his plan before he went to Marley, but I got nothing, and I still get nothing.

My gaze was lost in the window. The nights grew colder and colder and I hugged my arms as I watched the sunset. The boys were arguing about something, something that Mikasa didn't seem to find funny at all, but my mind wasn’t connected to reality. I just stared out the window, remembering the old days when we'd sneak out to steal a piece of meat from the supply warehouse with Sasha and Connie.

I remembered the nights when the boys sneaked into the women's hut to keep each other warm in our days as recruits. I remembered how Armin let me practice my medicine methods on him when he got hurt, a practice that was lost when he inherited the power of the Colossal Titan.

I remembered how we would escape at dawn, grab a few horses and ride out to the ocean, taking nice cool baths on the warm moonlit summer nights. Now those moments only remained in that, in memories.

"(Y/N) are you listening?"

My gaze detached from the window, now it was fixed on a Connie who looked just as tired of the world as I did. This dwarf turned giant was just as devastated as I was by losing half of him, and yet he was still able to continue fighting alongside our friends.

"We think you might be the most suitable to go talk to Eren"

Armin's calm voice stripped me of any desire to go back to the old moments. I pulled myself away from the window tiredly and let my body unconsciously guide me to one of the couchs in the middle of the room, next to the blonde. Apparently while I was wandering in my thoughts, the tension in the room had reached a point where it could be cut with a simple wave of the hand.

As I sat down, I was able to take a better look at the room. From what I could analyze, the group had divided into two, those who still trusted Eren and those who did not, each with their reasons, and apparently, I was playing the role of mediator. The responsibility fell on me to move the pieces of the board: to talk to our supposed war partner and beg him to tell us about his plans and the demons in his head, or to dethrone him completely.

"What makes you think I can go talk to him?"

My words came out of my mouth colder and sharper than I would’ve liked, but it was the simple truth. If Eren was willing to push each other away to accomplish his task, what was I going to accomplish after a year without having answers to his thoughts?

"I haven't been able to speak to him openly in a year"

Armin and Mikasa gave me completely stunned looks. Not even their childhood friend had told them that his relationship was falling off a cliff.

"I didn't know, I thought you were fine"

"Well, we are not fine at all Armin"

I knew it wasn't fair for Armin to get all my frustration, he wasn't guilty at all. I looked him in the eye and I could find multiple feelings in those huge blue eyes: sadness, compassion, guilt, overwhelm. I knew he was one of the worst going through it, his childhood friend was no longer entirely reliable; he had carried out acts of sheer violence and had become the enemy he hated the most; Armin had become his worst enemy and his eyes clearly showed it.

And it was those same eyes that begged me to do something, to go and talk, to try to figure out the smallest thing we could use to get out of this mess Eren got us into. They implored me to save his soul brother from his mental prison.

I let out a long breath before getting up off the couch and heading to the door.

"I highly doubt that I will achieve anything, but I will try to talk to him"

I took one last look to the guys in front of me before leaving the room, each one wishing me luck and pleading for my well-being with their eyes, and sinking even further into the rabbit hole, or rather, going straight to ventured into the lion's den.

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The road to the dungeons was long and heavy, but not because of the number of blocks and alleys I had to take, but because of what was waiting for me at the end of the road. Upon coming into contact with the stone walls and their semi-armored doors, the blood on my body ran cold, just as it ran cold when we buried Sasha.

The air below the ground was cold, the smell of mold and dirt entered my nostrils, preventing me from taking a couple of steps without feeling like vomiting. The place really needed a better cleaning, otherwise it would be the epicenter of a huge plague.

At the end of the corridor, where the light was dimmer and let the darkness eat much of the cell, was Eren. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him sitting on his supposed bed, staring directly at the wall, or so it seemed; knowing him he was surely lost in his world. I kept my composure, avoiding giving any trace of my emotional and psychological state.

"Hi"

I got no response, as always.

I had the opportunity to inspect his cell, it was quite untidy and dripping with water, coming from the sink which was covered to the top. Unconsciously I prayed that this water was drinkable or at least that it was not too polluted, since I didn’t have to look completely at the brunette in front of me to know he had put his head in that same water.

"I like your hair, looks very smooth"

"What do you want?"

His voice came out calm but imposing and terrifying at the same time, I would be lying if I said I didn’t startle a bit, but I kept my composure as best as possible to avoid showing the fear in my eyes. Eren may not have noticed, but if he did, he was unfazed.

"The guys think that I can talk to you, but I told them they were completely wrong, I mean...we haven't been able to speak like we used to for a year, maybe more"

My words came out of my mouth like the venom of a snake. I couldn't tell if my intention was to make him feel guilty, or at least feel something, to reflect on my words, but guess what… his eyes didn't even leave the wall behind me.

I crossed my arms and rested my body on one of the bars, hoping to have some intimidating way for the damn bastard to decide to speak. Even though bullying wasn't my thing, I, yes, had a tired face and wasn't there to waste my time, but I had to achieve something, get something, whatever, so I could get out of this damn place.

"You know very well that I'm not going to leave until you say something"

His eyes met mine for a few seconds and then returned to their original position. I knew this was going to be difficult, but I couldn't help my irritation growing from my chest. With every minute that passed, the pain in that area was increasing and a lump in the throat was appearing with each tear that I wanted to avoid shedding.

I'd been through shitty days and had to come alone to the exact place I least wanted to be to talk to the person I least wanted to see.

"I'm used to being on my feet for long hours, I can be here all day, and that's exactly what I'm going to do"

I remained planted in front of the cell, positioning myself with crossed arms right in front of his eyes, preventing them from continuing to look at the miserable wall.

But my bad luck wasn't giving me any sign that I was going to win this fight very soon. Although I was covering his peripheral field, his eyes never deigned to look at me, they simply stayed glued to the front, now seeing my body in front, although in reality, he was seeing without seeing.

My patience was running out and this goddamn silent game had only just begun. I had to find something to work with, something that could flicker him or make him angry… anger would not be the best if I wanted to leave with all the bones intact and my already psychological trauma without further damage; but knowing Eren, anger was his fuel, which made him move and in an action-reaction effect, made everyone move together behind him.

That's it. Everyone. But we weren't all here.

Sasha was dead; Reiner, Berthold and Annie traitors and enemies of Paradis; Ymir disappeared and confirmed dead, being inherited by the new jaw titan; the only one missing from our group was our beloved Queen. The Queen that Eren so decided to care for and protect.

"You know, Historia is about to give birth"

It was mild, but I could feel his body tense. His eyes moved just the same slightly, but in those little acts I knew I had struck a chord. And I was willing to use it, even if it meant destroying my sanity and causing one of Eren's greatest worldly anger.

"Wouldn't it be nice to have a little baby on the squad?" I took a deep breath before launching the second impact of the night, preparing to receive whatever blow came next. "After all, it's your child, right?"

His body moved faster than I could ever achieve and my reflexes weren't sharp enough to pull away in time. His hand grabbed my shirt, drawing me towards the bars and hitting my cheeks on each one, now my face was directly in front of him, my field of vision being just his face and finally, his eyes were focused on mine.

"Don't even think about talking about Historia like that"

If looks could kill, surely I would already be dead on the ground. His grip on my chest was strong, he was even capable of ripping the fabric, but with a push back showed me that it wasn’t strong enough, that everything was a facade. I staggered, almost fell to the ground, but either way, I kept my balance and my expression. I was terrified inside, but I forced myself to keep a stoic look at all time, he was trying to play with me and although I was not entirely sure how much there were just words and how much were an act of anger and violence, I couldn’t dedicate myself to having a hint of doubt.

"Easy, Romeo, I know you're not the daddy...or are you?"

I adjusted my clothes, avoiding his gaze because I knew if I stared into his eyes, I would get a much worse look than the one he gave me a few seconds ago.

"Whatever, you gave me something to work with, Historia knows something and didn't tell us...gee, I wonder why"

I leaned my body against the cold stone. My gaze went everywhere, trying to keep avoiding his eyes and incidentally have a stronger support for my figure.

"The Queen doesn’t have to say anything to anyone"

Ohhh, you little shit.

If that's the game you want to play, then you're going to lose.

Even if his words were absolutely right, we shouldn’t forget that, before she was queen, Historia had been our friend during training and the entire year of accumulated trauma between betrayals and deaths. If we could continue to have conversations with her and were invited to participate in political meetings, then we had every right to be informed of the supposed plan that Eren implanted in our queen's mind.

For a moment I was scared by the physical and emotional state of Historia. Was Eren capable of keeping her threatened? Did he say or do anything to keep her quiet? The questions seemed to have no head or tail, but if Eren was able to grab me the way he did, I can't imagine what he could do to keep someone quiet.

"Yes, you are right, in the same way, trust only the queen before your friends... that’s brave"

I searched the corridor and the cell for something I could use to attract his attention again, if it was necessary for me to use violence against him, I would be willing to do it. My eyes met a chain anchored to the wall, quite a long chain, to tell the truth. And on the other side, reaching almost the middle of the corridor, I could make out a rather dirty cloth.

I glanced at Eren who had sat back down on his bed, head down in his hands, and walked down the hall with one goal in mind. I grabbed the cloth and walked back to the cell, standing in front of the bars. I reached out my hand to the sink and started to clean up what was left of the spilled water.

"It's all soaked, incredible that they keep a cell like this"

Without taking my eyes off the sink, I could hear Eren settling on his bed, perhaps sitting upright. I kept running the dirty cloth over the water, honestly I wasn’t achieving much apart from spreading the now dirty water even more, but I had to continue with the facade of an understandable couple.

"It's a complete mess...were Historia's legs like this when you railed her?"

As before, Eren had quickly stood up, ready to grab my hand that was inside the cell, but I was already better prepared. When I felt his fingers touch my wrist, I turned my hand to anchor it on his arm and draw him towards the bars, having that same arm outside the cell. With half body on the cold metal, my other hand grabbed the missing arm and with all my strength I pulled his limbs towards me, causing his body and head to crash against the bars.

"Do you want to do it the hard way? fine, we'll do it the hard way"

Eren tried to shake off my grip, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins prevented him from loosening even a millimeter. I pushed him and pulled him back to me, stretching his arms even further and hitting his head on the metal.

"What's wrong with you?"

Again, a back and forth motion.

"What is going on in your head?"

Back and forth.

"How much shit can you have in your mind that you are not able to tell your friends?"

Back and forth.

"TELL ME FOR FUCK SAKE!!"

With one last impact, I hit Eren's head and heard the fibers and tendons in his shoulders rip, just as his skin began to stretch and break, revealing the flesh and muscle beneath it. Rivers of blood flowed over his arms, dropping to the floor and turning his skin red.

His head was also bleeding to the side, soaking his torso and rebel hair. A pool of blood formed under our feet. I let go of his arms and then grabbed the chain that was on the wall and chained him. Considering the number of times he hab been chained since his fifteen years, I suppose one more time wouldn't do any harm to his already traumatized mind.

When I saw his hands were secure I dropped to the floor, not caring about the blood that now adorned the cold stone floor. I could feel my ass starting to get soggy and sticky from the substance. I would have to burn this pants when I got out of there.

Both my mind and my breath hitched, enveloping the environment. I tried to calm down and clear my mind to continue this hell of interrogation. I knew I shouldn't have agreed, and now look at what situation I was in.

"You know I can transform and use the power of the warhammer titan to get out of here"

Eren seemed withdrawn from his situation, as if bleeding to death didn't matter in the least. Steam came out of his shoulders, a sign that he was in the process of regeneration and prayed that this process would take a long time to materialize.

“I know…” I tried to calm my voice and breath before speaking again “but if you transform now, you would end up killing me, and killing me means betraying the legion, and betraying them means betraying the people of Paradis… you don 't want that, do you? "

My words may sound sly, but inside I was wanting to run out of there, get under the covers of my bed and sleep until the day of doomsday; I was even wishing to die in that sleep.

"I'm going to stay here until I know once and for all what's going on in your head, because I know that whatever shit is in there… it's killing you."

Now we were both looking into each other's eyes, fighting a battle in silence, seeing who would give up first. We held eye contact for a few long minutes, unable to tell how many. Maybe it was a couple, maybe half an hour or even an hour; whatever the time, I was already getting bored.

"If I had known it would take so long, I would have brought something to read"

"What has you so worried that you can't even tell Hange or the heichou?"

My question came reluctantly out of my mouth, as if my ability to fight was fading. I was already very tired and it seemed like days since I entered the dungeons.

"Noone would be able to understand"

"Oh please! Don't take me for a fool. Do you think that none of them are battling their own inner demons? Do you think that only you can have intrusive thoughts to fight against?"

His comment irritated me to the core. I never found Eren such a selfish person, and to think that a year or so ago he was declaring his unconditional affection to all of his comrades.

What happened in the last year? What changed?

"Each one of them has to face their own internal wars every day"

Before my anger got the best of me, I took a few small breaths, calming myself. I wasn't going to put me on the same level of hatred and misunderstanding as him, even if it meant throwing away all the years we were together.

"Historia surely has to fight against the stress and the multiple responsibilities that being a queen entails, apart from fighting against the offensive comments of the military police"

Maybe the island has been rid of Titans for a long time, but that didn’t take away the fact that shitty people, like those who lived on the Wall Sina, decided to try and continue controlling the poor people who were split the loin so those ungrateful would have a feast every night.

"Connie is struggling every day against losing his other half, his twin"

Connie, Jean, everyone ... EVERYONE! We were fighting and suffering the mourning of Sasha, of our teammates.

"Shit, surely Jean is still struggling with the memory of Marco after so many years"

Yes. No one had forgotten Marco, especially Jean. But we had to learn to keep going on that very day, we couldn't afford to get sentimental and spoil the next missions. From that day on we learned to watch over our dead mates in silence.

"I fight every day against my incompetence"

And now was the time that I could begin to veil my demons once and for all.

Already my body was begging to rest. I had laid my head on the wall and fixed my gaze on the ceiling. I heard the chains move at my side, a sign that Eren was moving, but I didn't have the strength to look him in the face.

"I fight every day against the image of Sasha dying in my hands"

I know that memory is going to haunt me until the day I die.

"I fight every day against the memories of our comrades dying in battle"

I saw countless deaths throughout the year 850, so many that I decided to use my knowledge in medicine to help even to stop a bleeding. I still remember the first suture I made to a mate already lost in battle ... I was so excited, so happy to be of such help.

"I fight every day against the idea of ​​not being enough"

But that exaltation led to thousands of failures. People who had bled internally, who had lost an arm and couldn’t get to cauterize, hundreds who had lost half their stomach or head.

"I fight every day against our enemies on the other side of the sea"

I wasn't going to deny it, learning the pure and exclusive truth of the world, I couldn't help but feel a deep hatred for the Marleyans. I wanted them to pay for the countless deaths and suffering they had caused, I wanted to see them burn, but at the same time I wanted a reasonable explanation.

"I fight the memories of the titans devouring our friends"

Memories of the first day in battle, right at our graduation, when we thought that nothing could happen. How naive we were. And to think that that was just the beginning of a long list of events that would bring us to this moment.

"I fight every day along side with the memories of the team escaping from the base and messing it up to enjoy the summer nights"

Memories of when we would sneak into the palace and take Historia with us, enjoying the air in our faces and running in the valleys of the countryside. Memories of when we ran cows for some strange reason at the beginning of the day.

Memories of when we were racing with the 3D movement gear through the great forests outside the city. Memories of the occasional punch in the face against the bark of a tree for not knowing where we were going.

"I fight every day against the image of the big bright turquoise eyes that I fell in love with"

My gaze fell on those same eyes, but instead of finding the description that I wanted to see so much, I only found grayish green eyes, eyes that had lost all their brilliance.

I found eyes full of tiredness and anger for the world. The brilliance that so characterized Eren had been lost; now I would have to settle for a blank stare.

"I fight every day ... against the memory of our return to the rooms and Levi punishing us for weeks"

My voice was breaking as I remembered the nights when only Eren and I would sneak out to spend quality time alone. Those nights where we would lie down to see the stars or to lose ourselves in each other in some meadow.

I look at my hands, they were shaking. I couldn't help but remember the first night we spent together, back then I was shaking too, but Eren's hands on my cheeks dispelled any doubt or fear that I could ever have. I unconsciously smiled at the fond memory and I think Eren did too, as I heard a little laugh coming from him.

But no matter how much smiles and laughter the memories gave me, I had to go on and face the world that was now in front of me.

"I fight every day ... against the idea of ​​running towards you, towards your arms"

Those arms that one day gave me warmth. Those arms that one day hugged and covered me the moment I found out that a mate had died. Those strong arms that I knew were going to protect me from any harm.

"I fight against the hope that this is all a nightmare, that you are going to cradle me in your arms and tell me that everything is going to be fine, that it was just a bad dream"

My gaze returned to his, now filled with tears. It hurt, the cruel truth hurt a lot.

"I fight against the desire to stay by your side"

Eren's face was dark, he had returned to how he was at the beginning, without any trace of that soft laugh I heard a few seconds ago.

"I fight with my inner voice that tells me that everything will be fine, that in a few years it will not hurt as much as it does now"

Maybe ... maybe I can start over and when all this nefarious war is over I can find peace, once and for all, and enjoy my friends.

"I fight to move on"

...

"I fight every day...against you"

That was it.

I stood up heavily, wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. The blood on the floor was already dry and had left the entire back of my pants stained. I hadn't noticed that the air had been permeated with the iron smell of blood, making my vomiting reflex worse, even though I had avoided it in a good way all this time.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead, I'm not going to stop you"

His figure was already fully regenerated and I knew it was a matter of time before he transformed and left this filthy place. Eren might trust what he was doing was the right thing to do, but if he didn’t accept that in the eyes of the world, that in our eyes, his friends, the only family he had left, couldn’t understand his actions, then there wasn’t much to ask from him.

If he wanted to betray us, let him do it.

“Do what you have to do to fulfill your dream, I don't care anymore. But don't expect for me to sit around and wait for you"

"Are you planning to go to the other side of the sea?"

What a stupid and dubious question at the same time. Was I willing to leave my life in Paradis to start over even in the lands of the enemy?

No, not at all. Why I was no traitor.

"No Eren, I am not going to Marley, my family is here...but you are no longer part of it"

Those words hurt, but they needed to be said; that way I could already start to heal.

"Is that all you have to say?"

I couldn't tell if his words were mocking or a sincere question. But yes, it was all I had to say. I couldn't spend another minute in front of someone I didn't even know anymore.

"It's all I can bear"

I took one last look at the prisoner in the cell before turning and continuing down the long corridor of the dungeons.

"Are you leaving so soon? I thought I heard you would stay as long as it takes for me to speak"

As I reached the door, I took a deep breath of the foul smell of the environment. My hand lay on the doorknob and was half open when his words reached my ears. There was no need to shout from a distance, the echo of the stones made it easy for me to hear the smallest whisper of the perpetrator. I opened the door, but not before dedicating my last words.

"Goodbye Jaeger"

And behind me, I closed the door.

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Hi, I hope your doing okay😊, Could you write sfw and nsfw headcanons whole team natsu in a relationship with a fem s/o? Thank you!

Hi there! Sorry this one took me so long I had a hard time with the SFW headcanons. The NSFW ones are a bit longer hope you don’t mind. Also like my last poly team natsu post this one sort of left out wendy just cause she’s a kid.

SFW:

- So you never once thought that you would be able to manage getting one partner not to mention 4! Yes honey that's correct, 4! Gray, Natsu, Erza, and Lucy. And dear Celestial King did you love them.

- You go on all together dates, then sometimes threesome dates or just one on ones. But you were all together and very happy!

- All 5 of you being in a relationship sometimes made things just a little more complex. For instance anniversaries. You all had one anniversary together and then a one on one anniversary. Your individual anniversaries usually happened on days where something special happened in your bond with each other.

- When you went on dates with all 4 of them they might take you to see fireworks or on a picnic or to do something as a group. When you just went with one or two of them it ranged depending on who it was picking the activity.

- Lucy liked calm dates to a coffee shop or on a walk around the city to shop. She was into lowkey things because her chaotic life in Fairytail left her very little time to be chill. You guys would often read together or cook and eat a homemeal. If you wanted quiet time she was the person to go to (although Natsu regularly interrupted your fun).

- Erza was somewhat laid back with her approaches of dating. She had these visions of what a perfect romantic day would consist of almost like a little girl dreaming of her future. You found it adorable… until she started beating up people for ruining her picnic. She often took you to dinner at fancy restaurants and to festivals in town where she would buy way too much stuff. If you guys stayed home you would probably try on her armor cause she insisted you looked amazing in it. Training dates too where she would teach you to use all sorts of swords.

- Gray wasn’t really the ‘take you out on a date’ type he was more of a ‘spontaneous hang out’ person. He’d probably show up in your apartment claiming he was bored and no one else was around and play a board game with you. Sometimes he would be waiting for you outside so you could walk to the guild together. He wasn’t interested in setting up a time and getting all dressed up just to see someone who you’ve already seen in sweats and a stained t-shirt a thousand times. But occasionally on special occasions like individual anniversary days he would take you dancing in a nice setting or to a fancy dinner where he bought you a dress the day before hand and slipped a bracelet on your wrist when you arrived. 

- Natsu was the most adventurous with dates so far. He wanted to go on a job as a date then get dinner at some crazy all you can eat buffet afterwards. Or you guys would climb a mountain to find some crazy creature just so he could fight it. He took you out to eat a lot but it was mostly a lot of him stuffing his face and you talking about whatever you're interested in. He was a surprisingly good listener when he eats. Sometimes dates would be chill and calm like when he and Happy go fishing while you lean on his back and fall asleep. Speaking of Happy, the little blue cat usually accompanied you guys on your dates but when you went home he flew off to spend time with Carla or Lucy. At home you guys would probably talk, sleep, he would make a mess and be his general upbeat self.

- You weren’t the strongest wizard alive and you certainly couldn’t beat your lovers but you could usually hold your own in a fight. Not that your baes would want you in a fight. The four of them happen to be extremely protective, with you and each other. So expect to get very little action time. They’re just so scared to lose you or that you’ll get hurt. Sometimes it's kinda funny but at the same time you don’t want to be treated like just some kid that can’t defend themselves so at the very least they could let you fight your own battles. They agree that you should be able to fight for yourself and even offer to help you train. It’s been a while since that ridiculous protective mode kicked in for any of them (and you) but if you or one of them were to get hurt then it would be the end of times for whoever caused it. (ok not really but there would be repercussions). 

Spicy time ;)

NSFW:

- Sometimes a fivesome is a bit too much to deal with so you often break off into groups of two or three.

- When having sex with Natsu he likes to make it fun and often likes to singe your sheets a bit, liking how the smell of smoke mixes with your own. His heightened sense of smell makes it all the more fun since he can literally smell when you like something and just how much. He’s always gonna find the sweetest spots on your body and it’s a guarantee that you’re going to cum more than once. He wants to exhaust you. Natsu loves the afterglow and finds that lying with you afterwards completely at ease is his favorite part of the whole experience. 

- Kink wise he’s probably into praising you as you ‘take control’. Natsu’s not really the type to be into harsher play, he’s seen his friends hurt enough and wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he was the one to seriously hurt them. An exception would probably be bruises in the shapes of his hands right around your hips. Instead of being extra rough and kinky he switches things up a bit by letting you take the reins. Although if you tease him too much or he gets the feeling that you're forgetting who's really in charge he’ll quickly flip things around and remind you that he’s the top in the relationship.

- Grey is different in the way that he doesn’t mind if you get mouthy or tease him a little. He finds it entertaining when you're on top since you're so submissive like when you're out of bed and he could easily take control. So he has no problem laying back and letting you ride or suck him and chase your own pleasure however you please. But his favorite way to have you is with you on your hands and knees as he fucks you fast and hard. 

- For gray’s kinks I imagine that he’d be pretty kinky, but only for some things. Gray would probably be into being tied up and trying to break free. He would also love it if you choked on his dick and it would especially turn him on when there are tears of pleasure and overstimulation in your eyes. He likes to be edged and edge you for hours till either of you finally get your release. 

- Erza is actually soft when it comes to sex which she prefers to call it making love. She believes that it’s an opportunity to be intimate and close, to be vulnerable and expose yourself to another. It’s a high form of respect and she wants to treat you with respect. Slow sensual kissing, comforting massages that turn into more, slow grinds and hands everywhere. Having sex with Erza isn’t about kinks or doing a quickie, it’s all about you. Erza wants to worship you in every way possible and occasionally she’ll let you worship her too.

- Lucy on the other hand can go either way. Sex can be calm and sweet and meaningful, or it can be fast and rough and simply about pleasure. She can be a top or a bottom depending on the situation. With slow sex she likes to top because it really gives her a chance to show how much she loves you. When it’s rough though she could top but really actually likes being a bottom.

- This girl is kinky af! She’s into just about everything with some probably obvious exceptions. Bondage? Absolutely! Tie her up, bend her into different positions, overstimulate her to the point of tears. Public? Sure. Although she probably wouldn’t do it on a stage, a quick closet session where you’d have to hold your hands over your mouths to keep quiet would be thrilling. Toys? Yes! She will wear a collar for you and she will also sit at the guild all day with a toy in her. Her favorite kink though? Degradation/dirty talk. Pretty sure that has a bit of voice kink mixed in but it doesn’t really matter since she’s crying out as she cums anyway. She wants to be called a dirty slut as you pull her hair and finger her. She wants you to whisper all the things you’ll do to her in her ear. She can’t help but love the fierceness in your tone and the fake hardness in your eyes.

- All together sex is usually more fun but also super overstimulating since your all receiving several people's attention at once. You can’t bring yourself to mind however as you always feel satisfied in the end. When it’s all five of you together it’s usually just vanilla sex but occasionally some dirty stuff slips under the radar. You usually act as a bottom/switch in these occasions only ever really conscious enough to find pleasure for yourself. The rest is just a haze of bliss that comes then takes forever to leave when you're done (not that you mind however).

- Aftercare is very important to all of them and is crucial for all types of sex. They simply won’t allow you to sleep on sticky sheets or covered in cum. Most of the time you’re to out of it to really care but once they come to they move you to the (large enough to fit 5 people *wink* *wink*) bathtub for a nice relaxing bath while they change the sheets. They then often join you and cuddle until drying off and making your way back to the fresh bed.