#ties his ears back - some protection around the bottom of the horns

[myhomiesarestuckathome]

he's workingg💦

[lonely-lost-soul]

A Pirate's Life for Me

Cover Art Done By: @fridaydev-draws and @friday-dsv (Dreamsmp x reader) Pirate Au! Love Interests: C!Wilbur, C!Techno, C!Dream, C!Sapnap, C!Quackity, and C!Schlatt

~~~

Salt burned your lungs as you tossed open your window with a loud bang, the seagulls perching on your flower boxes screeched in protest and flew from your window. “Fucking sky rats get the fuck out of here you heathens!��� You snarled out the window shaking your fist at the bothersome birds, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore filled your ears as well as the chatter of the dock workers. You let the breeze blow back your hair and you heard someone calling your name from down below.

“Good morning (Y/n)!” You glanced below you and grinned,

“Morning Eret!” They waved back enthusiastically their dress spilling around their ankles, a basket of fruit was balanced on his hip. “Opening early today? I'm sure your patrons would be happy to start their drunken stupor early,” She held a hand to his mouth snickering and you shot them a look.

“If that gets more money in my pocket then so be it, I won't complain too much.” You shrugged, “Will I still see you later tonight?”

“Always do dove, how can I resist a drink from my favorite bartender.”

“You can’t it’s my charm.”

“Will the both of you shut the fuck up!” Another man’s voice growled from another open window, “It’s too early for your bullshit.” You saw Eret click his tongue but smiled up at you despite the man's protests,

“I’m heading to the market anyway. These fruits won’t sell themselves, I'll see you later.”

“See you soon!” You closed your windows once more, but not before urging your daisies to grow one last time. You tossed open the curtains allowing light to spill into your cozy home, a small carpet was in the middle of your room. It was a deep red and the pattern was made of gold yarn, aside from that everything in your residency was made of dark wood. Your shelves were littered with books and empty cups, and your old worn journal sat open on your desk. It was filled with childhood memories and you continued to write in it to this day, it was easier then, things were simple and everything was innocent and new to you. Now your days were filled with sea fairing idiots who liked to drink themselves stupid, but you could handle yourself, you always kept your father's dagger on your thigh at all times. Those who were frequent customers knew not to mess with you and those who were new learned their lesson within the first ten minutes of meeting you. You inherited the bar from your father, a kindhearted man who died a few years before today, leaving you with the bar and the dagger you had on your hip. You fished through your closet pulling out your clothes for the day, your dress was a gorgeous light coffee color and came down to your ankles. The bottom was flared and had dark brown panels on the sides, it faded inward to a light green then back to the coffee color. The corset around your waist was a dark brown with light green trim, you tied it tight with a small huff making sure your waist was sinched perfectly. The sleeves came down to your elbows allowing you to move your arms freely while making drinks. The top of the dress ended just below your collarbone, you strapped your dagger to your thigh before lacing up your knee-high black boots.

You thought back to your tavern downstairs, you were fortunate enough that you weren’t running this entire operation yourself. You ended up hiring help and they were like family and you knew they saw you as such as well. Most of the girls didn’t have a family of their own so you gave them room and board, also money, of course, you weren’t a terrible boss! You opened the door to your room, you watched Cecil, the tavern’s mascot trot out of Juniper’s room. The border collie liked to switch up which rooms he stayed in protecting every one of your girls when you couldn’t be there for them.

The first of your girls was Adelaide or Addie, she was one of the first to fall under your care. She was around your age, a motherly type, sheep hybrid, who cared for the girls, and always gave the drunk patrons with mommy issues a shoulder to cry on. Her long brown hair always hung down her back, she typically worked tables, served food and drinks, and always got a generous tip from patrons.

The next girl was Judas, a squid-enderman hybrid who was taller than you could ever wish to be, although intimidating you couldn’t meet a kinder woman. A jack of all trades the woman helped out wherever she could, black-ish purple hair curled around her shoulders and some people came specifically to hear her sing. Her voice was like rich velvet and lured men and women in like a siren.

Juniper was after Judas, a demon hybrid who was naive but you’d be a fool to underestimate her. She worked beside you at the bar, she can make some mean fruity drinks, Eret always preferred her drinks over yours. Freckles adorned her face and shoulders, her light brown hair curled down to her middle back, purple horns sprouted from the top of her head. You wanted to adorn it with gold jewelry and you were saving up to gift some to her.

Yeti was a human woman like yourself, she didn’t bother with those who were rude or obnoxious. She kept to herself only really talking when she was spoken to or when there was an opportunity to crack a rare joke. She typically stayed on the sidelines, out of the scenes and Yeti liked to help Judas decorate her sets.

Zig was a kind young adult, they got along with everyone who came inside the tavern. Soft emerald eyes drew people in, and they tried to make sure tensions within the bar didn’t rise and start a fight. There would always be one or two that’s just natural, but one look at Zig and his magic words and they seemed to disperse, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.

Vendetta was the tallest member of the group you had taken in, she was stunningly beautiful and didn't take shit from anybody. She was a guard dog if you will, making sure no one fucked with any of the girls in your tavern. While Zig did their best to keep people under control sometimes they couldn’t win. That’s when Ven would step in and ‘kindly’ escort them off the premises with or without force.

The youngest member here was Luvena. She was a moo-bloom hybrid with soft brown hair that sprouted flowers, her cow ears would twitch when she was excited and followed Addie around like she was her daughter. Addie took her under her wing and was training her to be a perfect little waitress, absolutely warming customers’ hearts. Luvena also loved to give out flowers, she was a fan favorite bringing new life into the tavern.

Cecil barked seeing his mama and scampered over to you, you poured food into his bowl as Juniper wandered into the hallway. Her head rested on the doorframe as she gave you a tried wave, “Morning (Y/n).”

“Morning Juni, We’re opening a little early today. Take your time I’m not expecting a big rush of bar patrons this early.” You assured her and she gave a sleepy nod,

“I’ll be down as soon as Ven’s out of the shower.” She yawned, “This beauty doesn’t come naturally.”

“Hardly darling you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” You reassured with a wink, Juniper flushed a little, happily laughing beside you.

“Just go wake the others will you, you flirt!”

Tossing your head back you gave a happy laugh heading down the hallway to make sure everyone was awake and ready to go for later. Addie and Luvena shared a room so she was in charge of waking up the youngest member of the tavern. Judas was already awake making breakfast for everyone when you headed downstairs, Zig was sitting on the counter beside her, they were the designated taste tester.

“Good morning Miss (Y/n)!” Zig chirped, the young adult hummed fondly, “Sleep okay?”

“Absolutely. What about you both? Thank you for making breakfast Judas.” You hummed fondly and Judas had a shy smile on her face.

“I slept well thank you.” Judas hummed softly, “Also it’s my pleasure. Want to make sure everyone’s healthy and alright.” She let out a little squeak as you wrapped your arms around her body, you barely came up to her chest,

“Judas please marry me,” You complained, “Your breakfast is always heavenly and you care for everyone. Please be my wife.”

“(Y/n)! Please.” She sputtered face turning a dark purple, Zig made a noise of protest and held his hand in the air.

“If she won’t marry you I will!”

“Zig! I’d be honored!”

Their entire face lit up with excitement and they hopped off the table to hug you tightly, you hugged them back and pressed a fond kiss to the top of their head. “I got to open up the tavern, you mind setting the table for me Zig?”

“Sure Miss!”

You sent Judas a kiss in the air which her face burned at, quickly going back to her cooking. You smiled eagerly and unlocked the door to the tavern, you shoved a bucket in front of the door to keep it open. The salty ocean air wafted through your nostrils and your eyes sparkled wondrously.

Today is going to be a good day.

Almost immediately a particular bastard caught your eye,

“You’re here early.” You mused raising an eyebrow,

“Heard you were opening early today sweetcheeks,” His voice was a low baritone, rough from years of smoking and drinking. Horns curled around his fluffy ears that stood out against his gruff exterior, he was a ram hybrid at its finest. “Figured I’d take the opportunity to get a special drink from my special girl,” He mused looking you up and down drinking in your figure. You scoffed at the retired man, he dressed like he was cosplaying captain jack sparrow, the gun’s in his belt just added to his costume and so did his large ruffled shirt, he was never one to forget his gold jewelry.

“Where’s Quackity?” You ignored him sitting him at his usual table, he frowned but you knew he was taking it as an opportunity to stare at your ass. He slid into the stool and put his feet up on the table, his boots were muddy but you could only control him so much. He was too much of a regular to get scared off by your threats and scolding.

“He’ll be in at his normal time. He’s not much of a day drinker, although can’t say I’m complaining. Having all your attention on me and all, considering I’m the only one in here. That being said, I’ll have my usual sweetcheeks.”

“Stop calling me that,” You scolded with a certain fondness that was reserved for the man. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite regular Schlatt,” you gave his ears a fond pinch and he bleated. He sent you a scalding look as you walked away, although the look soon fell as he got a good look at your ass once again.

“I’m your only regular sugar tits!”

“Schlatt feet off the table.” Addie criticized whacking his boots with a rolled-up menu, he rolled his eyes but dropped his feet to the floor. “You should know this by now, we go through this every day.”

“Yeah, yeah little lamb I’m on it. Judas here?”

“She’s always here,” She huffed spreading the menu down on the table. “Do you want your usual or something different? Should I get Quackity’s drink ready too?”

“Nah just stick with mine, for now, tell Judas I’d like to see her.”

Addie clicked her tongue and placed her hand on her hip, “fine. But if you’re just going to grossly flirt with her as you do with (y/n), then keep it to yourself.”

“You’re not the boss of me. Just because you look like an old hag-” The way she glared at him sent a chill down his spine, “shit babe take a joke will you.”

Eventually, people began to file into the tavern, as the morning faded into the afternoon and then into the evening. The tavern was bustling with life, Judas’s elegant voice traveled through the crowds and her voices seemed to float above the voices. Quackity joined Schlatt by his side seemingly irritated by a conversation they were having, Schlatt was about five drinks in at this point, which was much less than his usual, and Quackity on his second.

“What are they talking about?” Luvena asked swinging her legs as she sat on the bar beside you. Her moobloom ears twitching every so often as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation,

“Vena it’s impolite to eavesdrop.” You scolded bopping her on the head lightly, she whined and rubbed the top of her head.

“I wasn’t!” She argued as you rolled your eyes, you looked over at the two men to find Quackity looking over at you. His hand was raised in the air, one finger was up summoning you to get him another drink.

“I’ll be back, why don’t you talk to Ven while I’m gone. She’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Good thing she doesn’t want to babysit your ass either, now shoo.” You motioned her to hop off the bar and she did so with a long, dramatic sigh. You looked over at Ven who gave you a silent nod, letting you know she’d watch out for the youngest member of your band of misfits. Meanwhile, you grabbed Quackity another drink and walked over to the two men at the table, “Someone order a drink?”

“Aye! Mamacita! Fancy seeing you here.” Quackity purred a bright smile spreading across his face seeing that you were the one to deliver his drink,

“Hey Big Q,” You greeted placing the drink in front of him, “You doing okay?”

“Better now that an angel walked into my sight,” He flirted and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true! You always brighten my day you know? Ow!” Schlatt hit his ex-first mate over the head,

“Take a breath lover boy. Thanks for the drink sugar tits.”

“You’re welcome, what were the both of you talking about if I may ask.” You hummed grabbing some of Schlatt’s empty glasses, an uncharacteristic frown came over both their faces. “Oh? Touchy subject?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just dishing out some old problems, most of which are better left unsaid.” He aimed that statement at Quackity, his jaw seemed clenched and Quackity’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

“Well I just want to remind the both of you,” You passed the tray of empty glasses over to Addie as she walked by, she took them swiftly. You grabbed the side of both their heads and pressed them against your chest, not that you knew but both men’s flushed to the tips of their ears. “No physical fights are allowed in this tavern. If one starts I won’t hesitate to kick your fucking asses. Got it?” They looked over your chest and locked eyes with one another, after years on the sea they could read one another’s facial expressions rather easily and at that moment they shared the same thought,

‘They should fight more often.’

“I said, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” The repeated simultaneously as you pulled away,

“That’s what I like to hear-”

“(Y/n)!” Vendetta’s velvety voice called out from behind you, you turned and saw a group of newcomers file into your bar. Your body tensed momentarily,

Pirates.

Schlatt turned his head to follow your gaze and he tensed from behind you, “fuck me.” He growled and Quackity raised an eyebrow at his captain, he turned to look over his shoulder and his face lit up.

“Sapnap!”

The pirate who had a white bandana tied around his forehead glanced over at him and a smile lit up across his features. “Quackity? Is that you?”

“My man!” He stood up from his chair heading over to wrap the man in a hug, “I haven’t seen you in years, man.” You zoned out of their conversation eyes locking with a few of the other pirates who walked into the tavern. Vendetta and Addie both greeted them, but everyone who was under your care knew to keep their guard up around pirates. From what you could gather there seemed to be two crews, a crew of what only seemed to be two, Sapnap was included. The fire demon was still talking with Quackity, while the other man took in the view of the tavern, he had shaggy blonde hair, and had a few scars across his face. A porcelain mask sat on top of his head, a forest green cloak was around his shoulders, his hood was lowered around his neck. A sword was strapped tight against his hip and there was another dagger that seemed to be tucked against his side. His eyes gazed towards you and he winked teasingly with a coy smile, you scoffed looking over at Addie.

“Seat those two gentlemen yeah? Be careful, I’ll tell Ven and Yeti to keep an eye.” Addie looked at you, concern written on her soft features but she nodded. While Addie departed, you noticed Ven talking with the other group. Luvena was hiding behind Vendetta’s long legs, although a tall blonde boy seemed very keen on talking to her. You smoothed out your dress and moved towards the group of three, you eyed them up casually. The blonde looked to be around Luvena’s age, he had a shit-eating grin on his face and his uniform matched that of the second tallest in the group. The second tallest was clad in a light blue jacket with large golden buttons on the red collar. He had a cream-frilled shirt underneath and a black belt holding up his brown slacks, those were tucked into black boots. On his back seemed to be a guitar and was the only one of them not holding a weapon, but you knew better than to assume with pirates. His curly brown hair seemed to bounce every time he talked, he seemed to be the ringleader but there was no doubt that the real ringleader was the hybrid standing beside him. He was taller, on par with Vendetta in height, he had long pink hair that was tied in a ponytail on top of his head. A few pieces framed his face elegantly, there was no doubt he was the captain of the little crew that was in your tavern. He had a white shirt on with a deep low cut ‘V’ it showed off a good portion of his scared chest, around his shoulders sat a deep red jacket but his arms were outside of it and crossed over his chest. He seemed content on letting his second in command do all the talking, his red eyes were the only ones to meet yours. His head tilted upwards and before Vendetta could stop him he walked over towards you,

“You own the tavern?” His voice was a low monotone and it sent an array of pleasant chills up your spine.

“I do,” You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest, “Names (Y/n). You are?”

“Captain Technoblade of the ship Odyssey, I was hoping you had a few rooms and a table available. My brothers and I are pretty exhausted, we’ve been sailing all night.”

Brothers, they certainly didn’t all look alike, but then again you certainly had a mix of girls in your care. Your tongue swiped against the top row of your teeth, “Why don’t you and your brothers take a seat at the bar for now. Juniper will be happy to serve you, I’ll see if we have some free rooms available.”

“Thank you, once you return I’ll introduce them to you if you’d like,” Technoblade bowed his head before turning back to get his brother’s attention.

“I’d like that thank you.” You gave a nod motioning for Vendetta to follow you as you slid behind the bar with Juniper, Judas had also taken a spot sitting on the bar. You figured you’d let her know as well, considering she was another adult figure in the group. You knew either Juniper or Judas would fill in Addie considering the three were close. “Ven, can they be trusted?”

“Not too sure about the masked man, the one Quackity seems to be familiar with seems decent enough. He’s a fire demon though, could smell him from miles away, we all just need to be cautious.”

“Agreed,” Juniper added tapping her finger on her chin. “We should just try to curb all fighting if at all possible, what did the captain of the other group ask you?”

“They want a room, I’m about to check to see if we have availability. Thoughts on that?”

Judas let out a low hum her eyes followed both sets of pirate groups around the tavern, “I say if we have availability let them stay. They seem harmless so long as we don’t mess with them, which we’d never do.”

“Plus I can always stay awake to keep an eye on them.” Vendetta tapped her nails against the table,

“You sure.”

“As if I’d let anything happen to any of you, you’re my family.”

You all smiled softly, and you noticed Judas’s eyes widen, “Zig! Get that out of your mouth this instant!” She shot up from her spot and over to the person in question. The three of you laughed fondly at the nonsense, meanwhile, Juniper saw the three brothers sit at her bar. She moved away from you to greet them, you immediately could tell she was taken with the second eldest brother.

He seemed to be an absolute lady killer.

Vendetta ruffled your hair before going back to stand at her place by the door to keep the peace. You headed up the stairs to the rafters to check on the extra rooms you had, “Excuse me?” You tensed visibly turning around to face the man in all green. His eyes were mesmerizing, a fierce jade green to contrast his cloak, “Do you happen to have two rooms available?” The man held up two fingers to clarify his request,

“Do you usually start introductions with a blatant request like that?”

He chuckled a smile spreading across his lips, “I’m Dream and you gorgeous?”

“(Y/n), it’s your lucky day I’m about to check and see if any are available. My tavern is a hot commodity tonight.”

“Well, I can see why,” he spoke and you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side.

“Oh?”

“It has the hottest owner around. Word spreads fast.”

You couldn’t believe this man was making your cheeks burn, he chuckled softly taking a step towards your figure. “Oh really, word spreads that fast on the open sea, Captian?” It was his turn to turn light pink, but he covered it up quickly with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

“I’ll get on that room for you and your friend. Take a seat, for now, this part is for guests and staff only you know?”

“So I have you all to myself?” He cheekily mused, he stepped towards you and before you knew it you were pinned against a wall. His hand suddenly brushed against your cheek, it was cold in comparison to your warm cheek. You felt Dream’s thumb brush against your cheek slowly, “You know...being on the open sea alone does something to a person.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You mused pushing your forehead back against Dream’s, “All alone with only your crew with you.” Taking his other hand within your own you slid it up to your hip, you saw his entire face turn red as he stared down at your chest. “You’re probably missing a little love in your life, aren’t you Dreamy?” He nodded dumbly, his eyes still not leaving your chest,

Perfect. You weren’t going to let some pirate boy get the better of you.

He let out a grunt of pain as you spun him around and pressed his head into the wall with your elbow, your other hand has his pinned behind his back. “This hallway is for staff and guests only,” You purred in his ear before letting him go and swinging your hips before heading up the stairs fully. From behind you, Dream’s face was a deep, dark red and he had to clear his throat. Dream wasn’t going to let you go after that, I mean look at you, tough and able to hold your own, it awakened something inside him.

After checking up on the rooms you headed back down into the main hall, three-room keys in your hand. Glancing over at the scene in front of you, you saw Juniper dancing in the middle of the tavern the flirtatious brother at her side. Judas was sitting beside Schatt and Quackity at the bar, Addie was tending to Technoblade and the blonde at their little table. Dream and Sapnap were whispering to one another in the corner but still seemed to be enjoying the show. Vendetta was smiling softly by the door, beside her were Luvena and Zig both playing various instruments. You noticed Eret was also amongst the crowd, she had a brilliant grin on his face, it was flushed pink with alcohol and you smiled to yourself.

It was peaceful, and for a moment you forget half the patrons were scoundrels or pirates.

That was until the man dancing with Juniper locked eyes with you, his eyes lit up and he spun Juniper off into Addie’s arms. She giggled snuggling into the mother sheep’s arms, you heard a distressed “Juni! I’m holding glasses!” Before your vision was overtaken by the handsome flirt.

“Hello love,” He hummed, “May I offer you a dance?”

You were about to refuse but you saw Yeti, who finally made her appearance as it was getting closer to Judas’s set, giving you a big thumbs up “I’d be honored.” You responded taking his hand within your own, he pulled you out onto the dance floor and you felt his other hand politely hover on the small of your back. He allowed you to lean into his touch as he began to elegantly spin you around the dance floor, you were almost embarrassed to say felt like a princess. “Maybe I could get your name?” You asked above the music, “Since it seems you’re my dance partner this evening?”

“Wilbur Soot my love.” He hummed proudly, “The first mate of the ship Odysseus at your service. Plus I play music on the side.”

“Well now you need to play for us,” Wilbur twirled you around in a circle,

“Maybe one day. If you give me your name?”

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was right.” You commented biting the bottom of your lip trying not to smile,

“About what?”

“You.”

“Ah? Already talking about me I see? Is my manliness and gentlemanly qualities that renowned?”

“Not exactly.” He picked you up slightly and pulled you into a low dip, “I was right in thinking you a nothing but a flirty playboy.” Wilbur almost dropped you, you squawked grabbing onto his neck. He began to laugh as you clung to his chest,

“Alright love. You caught me red-handed.”

Wilbur set you on your feet hands on your lower back, you were pulled close to his chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I get them for free hon. I own the place.”

“Oh...oh.” He paled a little, “I didn’t fuck up our chances of getting a room did I?”

“Nah lucky for you and your brothers, I have you covered, same with your buddies over there.” You motioned to Dream and Quackity’s friend, Wilbur’s face paled as he felt the chilled room key get placed in his palm. “What’s your little brother’s name?”

“Tommy.”

“Tell them both we serve breakfast free from 7 am to 10 am.” He nodded as you walked past, Wilbur meanwhile turned to look at Technoblade. It seemed he had his red eyes on the couple the entire time they were dancing. He held up a room key, it was labeled 205; Technoblade nodded his head before leaning back and talking to Addie once more. “Dream!” You called throwing a hand up into the air, instead of Dream, Sapnap looked up he nudged Dream with his elbow. The man was now wearing his mask, but at least you could tell he was looking at you,

“Well hello, darlin’ you must be (Y/n). Name's Sapnap. Dream told me about you, so you have good news for us I hope?”

“Pleasure, I'm sure he told you all about me,” He nodded, his eyes taking in your body especially your ass. “Got you both a room key, your neighbors. Across from the other crew of pirates. Just don’t fight and we won’t have any problems.”

“You mean those jackasses are staying?” Sapnap complained loudly, looking over your shoulder at the other crew members.

“You both didn’t think you were the only patrons, did you? This is a business after all.” You, tossed the keys their way, Dream caught it with ease and Sapnap fumbled it only a little bit. After they were in their hands, you waved them off with a flutter of your palm you turned around to go speak with Judas about her set but before you could take a step you saw Schlatt stumbling up from his seat. “Ah shit,” You knew what was about to happen, you weren’t paying attention to the ram hybrid so who knew how many drinks in he was. You felt responsible, for a while you and Judas had been trying to help Schlatt with his addiction. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly set him off for him to get this drunk, Quackity caught him in his arms with a grumble. The man was a drunken mess, and as you approached you could hear his slurred speech and could practically smell the alcohol on his breath. “Schlatt,” You spoke carefully and as soon as you got close Schlatt detached himself from Quackity and lunged at you. His head was buried in his chest, he almost purred like he was very happy to be there, you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. You were mindful of his horns but he seemed pretty eager for you to touch them,

“(Y/n).” He whined although it was muffled against your ample chest, “Why do pirates have to fuck everything up?”

“What are you on about Schlatt? No one likes pirates.”

“They’re gonna take you away from me, sugar. You’re my safe space, this tavern is my safe space.” You sighed listening to his drunken ramblings, you grabbed his horns and pulled him away from your chest.

“This is my life Schlatt, I’m not going anywhere trust me. Plus my family is here, they need me. So try not to worry okay?” You slicked back the hair on his forehead before planting a fond kiss there, everyone in the tavern narrowed their eyes at the scene. Even your girls were green with envy, at the sight of their lovely boss kissing someone who wasn’t them. He leaned against your lips eyes fluttering closed,

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Captian Schlatt? Or ex-captain if I remember correctly.”

“What?”

You turned your head and felt Schlatt’s arms wrap around your waist and held you close to his chest. The touch was protective and you felt your heart skip a beat, why was he protecting you, and why did you actually feel protected?

“Has the drinking finally caught up to you? Or was it the fact that you lost your so-”

Was that Dream's voice?

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled and you were shoved behind him into Quackity’s arms, you felt less protected. “I’m not that person anymore and you fucking know that,” Vendetta came to stand beside the both of you a hand was placed on your shoulder protectively. You knew she was desperately wanted to step in and you held up a hand to stop her.

“This isn’t good…” Quackity murmured, “They’re going to fight. Schlatt’s going to get himself fucking killed.”

“Calm yourself. We won’t let it get that far.” Ven grumbled eyeing you waiting for your signal. But you were lost in the conversation or argument, the two were having, you couldn’t believe Schlatt was a pirate. He was so...he just didn’t...he was a drunk okay? That didn’t exactly shout feared pirate to you!

“Oh, are you sure? I remember that look, that’s the look you’d get before you stomped someone’s lights out. No wonder your son disappeared under mysterious circumstances-” Dream was shoved against one of the poles holding up the building. He grunted and Schlatt’s arm was pulled back ready to punch, but his arm was stopped by smaller hands,

“Pardon me Mr. Schlatt but you know how we feel about fighting in our tavern.” Addie bubbled, she had a smile on her face but it wasn’t kind, it was full of warning.

“Get the fuck off me, sheepie. This doesn’t fucking concern you.” Schlatt shoved her away and as soon as his skin made contact with her body he made a sound of distress.

“(Y/n)...” Addie murmured quietly, your father’s dagger was embedded in Schlatt’s arm,

“Fucking hell you bitch!” He snarled baring his teeth, you glared at him twisting the dagger he yelled in agony.

“Touch one of my girls again and next time this dagger is going right into your back.” You ripped the dagger out, splattering the floor with blood. He grabbed his arm tightly and looked at you with slight betrayal in his yellow eyes. “I mean it Schlatt, Quackity take him home.” The man nodded looking at you longingly, he muttered a quiet ‘Sorry’ before escorting him out of your tavern. “You,” You glared harshly over at Dream, “Go to your room.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“Then find another play to stay.” You spat, he turned away and you looked over at Addie, “Are you alright?” Your voice turned tender as you cupped her cheeks. She nuzzled against your palms and nodded her head,

“I’m fine. You didn’t need to-”

“Yes, I did. No one messes with you. With any of you on my watch.”

The sheep hybrid made a little sound as her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped you in a tight hug which you accepted without hesitance. Judas walked over next and wrapped you both in her arms, pretty soon you were surrounded by your girls and Zig.

All of them had the same mindset: comforting both you and Addie.

It was good to be loved.

Wilbur watched the scene curiously and glanced over at Technoblade who stood up from his chair.

“I think that’s our cue to leave for the night.” He looked over at his first mate, Wilbur nodded in agreement grabbing his guitar from the chair beside Technoblade.

“They...Techno were they talking about Tubbo.” Tommy whispered to his brother, his brow furrowing in concern as they all climbed the steps up to their room, “You don’t think-”

“It just might be Tommy.” Technoblade tilted his head to the side, “Guess that’ll be something we ask him when we get back to the ship tomorrow.”

“Well, this trip is going to be way more fun than I thought.” Wilbur snickered lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag, before letting the smoke curl out of his mouth and up into the rafters. ~~~

Tag List: @v01dw4lk3rz, @jam-bombs, @abovenyx, @glitterydigitalart, @phoenixaesthetic19, @luluwinchester, @boiled-onionrings, @pastelmoonwitche, @roxy3457, @alovestruck-fool, @victory-is-here, @mack4676, @fiorenc, @theoneandonlyyeti, @bloodrose0723, @sandyy-woo,

[author-morgan]

Your work is so good, you should do this for a living! Your Ivarr stories are treasurers! Because quality Ivarr content that matches up exactly with my fantasies are rare, and I'm shit poet...

Could you please do one where the clan's dainty sweetheart secretly has the hots for Ivarr but avoids him because she doesn't know how to act around him.

He's also into her but thinks she hates him.

She gets terribly drunk for first time ever, throws herself at Ivarr...

Confused but also turned on, he internally struggles because doesn't want to take advantage of her.

He puts her to bed/or gets someone else to do it? Ubba? Because he doesn't trust himself to be alone with her?

Finds her when she's sober and not hungover, confronts her because drunken words are sober thoughts. She's embarrassed but they end up having really great sex!!!

i do write for a living, just not creative writing oh the joys of academia. apologies for the long wait, but here's more Ivarr! hope you enjoy! ♥ i kind of went overboard (like 3.3k words overboard) but it's Ivarr and i'm thirsty as hell for this bastard. Ivarr the Boneless x fem!Reader

EIVOR SHAKES HIS head. His arms crossed with a frown playing on his lips. He doesn’t see what you do —why of all the people in Midgard, you only have eyes for Ivarr the Boneless. Even Ubba would be a better choice, he thinks. It’s in Eivor’s nature to worry over and protect the ones he loves after all he’s lost. You are another example of Styrbjorn’s charity to those he considered friends, just as he is Sigurd’s brother in all but blood, you are their sister and have been for many years —becoming a temper for the two rowdy boys, favoring the healing arts over swordplay and battle.

Since Eivor’s initial meeting with Ivarr in Repton, there’s been something about his methods and outlook that sets Eivor at unease, even more so now that he’s caught Ivarr’s gaze lingering on you —like now during the autumn feast. Some jest, saying opposites attract, and while that seldom seems to be the truth, it is for you and Ivarr. He is cold iron, warm blood, a harsh winter —and you’re soft silks, a cool breeze, fresh spring blooms.

He’s seen the looks you share with Ivarr. Fleeting and flirtatious, but that is nigh all you share besides few rushed words in passing. Ivarr cuts an intimidating presence, and you’ve never been quite sure how to converse with warriors beyond your brothers. It’s nigh as difficult for Ivarr —all he knows is bloodlust and his fellow drengrs— finding the right words to say is not a battle he thinks he can win. There’s fondness between you, almost everyone can see it, but there are times when Ivarr is left to wonder if you truly like him or if your soft smiles and kind words are only a product of his reputation.

Ivarr’s feelings are clear to himself, though, especially as he watches you among the people of Ravensthorpe, partaking in the autumn festivities. Seeing you wear a crown of gold and amber leaves, dancing with Ceolbert to the drunken tune of Bragi and his tagelharpa with a tankard of Tekla’s mead in hand makes his heart beat faster, and his mouth go dry. He keeps to the benches, reminding himself that a drengr does not dance —at least not this type of dance.

The evening fades, but the festivities don’t. Soma claims her clan throws the best feasts, though you’re tempted to challenge the jarlskona for the title since Ravensthorpe has grown. You look around, searching for your brothers, but Sigurd has retired for the evening, and Eivor is slumped over on one of the tables, asleep —his hand still curled around the handle of his mead cup. Sighing, you find Ivarr’s gaze in the hazy air of the longhouse, half-shocked by the intensity and darkness, half-eager to return the lust-laden stare with your own.

Emboldened by the mead, you gather another horn and move across the longhouse where Ivarr sits. With a smile, you offer him the horn of mead before taking the empty spot on the bench next to him. He eyes you, curious, as he turns up the horn —downing the mead in a few gulps— and turns his attention to you. Spurred on by the moment, you lean closer, twisting to drape your legs across his thighs, squirming more than needed. “What game are you playing at, little dove?” Ivarr asks, his gaze dark and tone dangerous. You only smile, flitting your eyes up to meet his as you tip up your cup.

The soft plucking lyre strings and the low thrum of the tagelharpa are nigh enough to lull you to sleep coupled with the stillness. When you start to sway, both from the trance of the music and the heaviness of your eyes, Ivarr brings you closer to his side before deciding it best to see you off for the night —lest he is on the receiving end of Sigurd or Eivor’s anger. Ivarr pushes the bench back from the table, slipping his arms around your shoulders and beneath your knees, rising with you cradled in his arms —head resting on the leather of his shoulder pauldron.

When Ivarr places you on the straw and rag stuffed mattress of your cottage at the eastern edge of the settlement, you are not eager to part with him —the bulge tenting his britches tell you he’s not eager to leave you either. “Don’t” —you hiccup, lips turning into a pout as you lift the hem of your skirt to show the bare skin of your calves and beyond— “don’t you want me?”

Gods, Ivarr wants you. Just the thought of lying with you sets his blood hot and racing —like a giddy boy before his first battle. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted a woman more. But he can smell the mead on your breath and see the weariness hiding in your eyes. Ivarr knows it is the drink speaking for you, and he will not be the one to dishonor such a woman as you. “You’ve too much drink, little dove,” he chides in a rough chuckle, uncurling your fingers from their hold on his tunic. “Sleep,” Ivarr says, sitting back on his haunches —drinking in your appearance for a final time, “I doubt you’ll say the same thing come the morning.”

MORNING BREAKS AND so does your uneasy rest. The scent of smoke and mead clings to your skin and clothes, as does a dried sheen of sweat. Rising, you strip out of the soiled clothes and into a linen shift. With the hour still early and some only just retiring for bed from the feast, you gather up a cake of soap and boar-bristle brush, heading toward the small waterfall and pool at the northern edge of the settlement. Sparing a quick look around and now certain you’re alone, you strip, stepping into the clear, cool water with a sharp inhale.

Humming a soft song, you wring the suds from your hair and cross toward the bank where your clothes lay, but the snap of a branch underfoot stops you. Gaze darting around, you see him emerge from behind the trunk of a large tree near the stables. “Ivarr,” you greet, not shying away from his wandering gaze. His silence and the look in his eyes make you smile as you wade in his direction, stopping when the water brushes the underside of your breasts. “Are you watching me?” It’s a redundant question that needs no answer besides the hungry look in Ivarr the Boneless’s eyes.

“What you said last night–” he starts, voice surprisingly cautious, but you cut him off with a wave of a hand and scolding grin. “I was not that drunk, Ivarr.” Tekla’s mead had not dulled your senses, only gave you the courage to act on buried feelings. He lifts his brow and rakes his hand through his parted hair. “And yes. I meant it,” you tell him, wearing the same look now as you had last night nigh begging Ivarr to have his way with you. If Ivarr is surprised by the truth of your feelings, he hides it well. You motion to the pristine pool of water and bite down on your bottom lip before finding his gaze again. “Join me?”

Ties and buckles rustle as he hastily kicks away his boots, drops the fittings of his armor, and does away with his britches and tunic. Ivarr circles you like a wolf eyeing his wounded prey, and then he pounces, wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling your back flush against his chest. He leans forward, trailing his nose along your shoulder and neck —rough hands trailing up your sides and around to your breasts, squeezing them and teasing your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

When you gasp, he bites down on your shoulder and rocks his hips into your ass with a low chuckle. “You know who I am?” He means it as a warning —a warning of his bloodthirsty and unkind nature, that he is not a man to sing sweet songs or offer tender caresses. You already know that, having been privileged to witness Ivarr the Boneless in battle and know him outside of his craft.

“I do,” you answer, unwilling to shy away. He sucks in a sharp breath when you turn to face him, stepping closer and look up at him under lidded eyes with a wicked smile that sends blood rushing to his already half-hard cock. Careening toward Ivarr, you brush your lips across his jaw, settling one hand over the dark tattoo of Yggdrasil on his breast. “And if I wanted gentle,” you breathe at his ear, nipping at his neck, “I would fuck one of the Saxon monks.”

Ivarr laughs, grinning, but it falters when you reach below the water and squeeze his cock and balls, giving no doubt to your intentions or your wants. “Careful, little dove,” he hisses, tilting your chin up. He hunches, ashen hair half-falling before his face as he leans down and kisses you, warm, open-lipped, and intoxicating.

You pull back with a groan, and Ivarr chasing your lips, stopped only by your hands cupping his face —thumb tracing the deep scar on his cheek. “While giving the gods a show sounds delightful” —Ivarr’s lusty eyes take on a twinkle at the thought. Suddenly he’s picturing you splayed out on a Christian altar, spent from his love with his seed dripping from your cunt. His cock twitches, pressed tight against your belly— “Sigurd or Eivor finding us like this is less enticing.” Had it been anyone other than Ivarr, your brothers would have turned a blind eye, but neither have particularly liked the interest you and Ivarr show in one another.

Stepping back, you grip onto his wrist, staying his hands from their wandering assault, and pull him toward the waterfall and the small cave beyond. Before Ivarr has a chance to move again, you smile for him in the dim light, sliding an open hand to the nape of his neck, drawing him closer. With your lips pressed against his, Ivarr can only reciprocate —he parts your lips with his tongue, hands curling into your hips in a vice grip. But when the kiss breaks, you shimmy from his grasp and trail your lips to the dip in his neck —licking and laving.

“Having your lips on my skin is torture,” he inhales, hand fisting in your hair as you move down to the tattoo of Sleipnir at the center of his chest. You laugh softly and lean back, his eyes piercing through you. The smile on your lips is roguish, but you do not let up, making your way to his abdomen where a few small scars are clustered. Ivarr moans above you, and you haven’t even touched his aching, dripping cock yet. His hand reaches for your breasts, but you knock it away, having yearned for this moment for too long to let it slip away.

He titters at your enthusiasm and rolls his hips forward. Not dissuaded, you press your lips to the scar next to his navel, right below one of the dark runes tattooed on his abdomen. The hand still twined in your hair tightens, pushing you down to your knees. Ivarr’s legs are powerfully built, the muscles of his calves and thighs flex as you run your hand over them appreciatively, still finding small scars to trace and kisses, purposefully ignoring the hard cock pressed against his stomach. His hands clench as you kiss the skin of his thighs, your hair tickling the underside of his cock.

You smile at his surprised gasp when you drag the flat of your tongue along his cock, tracing along a vein running up the length of his shaft. Ivarr’s unable to hold back his groan when your fingers wrap around his girth, giving a few heavy strokes. And then, without warning, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. He tastes of salt and iron and something forbidden and dangerous. Taking his cock as far as you can, you press your tongue against the underside, silently humming.

Above you, Ivarr chokes your name like a ragged prayer —it fills you with pride to know the son of Ragnar Lodbrok is coming apart at your hands and mouth, unable to say anything but your name. The lords of England may fear the whisper of his name, but right now, he is at your mercy.

Slowly, he begins to thrust himself into your mouth, but he makes no move to command your movements. Instead, his impatience wins over. He pulls you away from pleasuring him with your mouth. “Enough,” Ivarr says, his voice ragged as he crouches down, hand sliding from your hair and down to tweak one of your pebbled nipples, then lower still until he comes to the warmth between your thighs, slick with arousal. You whimper, gripping onto Ivarr’s shoulder when he pushes two fingers into your cunt, curling and thrusting. “On your knees, little dove,” he rasps. He warned you, and now he means to make good on his silent promise.

You struggle to gain your balance on the uneven ground of the small cave, but soon did, only to nigh lose it again when Ivarr slides the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds —thrice over before gripping onto your shoulder with one hand and guiding himself into your warmth with the other. Ivarr’s moan when he sinks inside you is breathless and airy, a misplaced sound from the likes of him. He grips you tight —one hand on your shoulder still, the other on your hip— holding your squirming body still as he eases his way into you. Your shoulders curl forward at the sudden wide spread of his cockhead into your body, fingers digging into the soft earth beneath you.

Ivarr pants against your shoulders —you can feel the open brush of his mouth along the sensitive skin of your spine and neck— as he draws his hips back and slams his cock back into you. You buck your hips back in time with his thrust, and Ivarr growls. You move with him as he fucks into you, squeezing with your inner muscles and whimpering in loud gasps. “Ivarr,” you chant, over-and-over.

He’s pounding hard immediately, giving in to the hunger that’s been consuming the both of you for far too long to be decent. His fingers are strong, streaking against your skin as his grip slides, something to discolor and bruise you by evening. But it feels so fucking good. You toss your head back, finding a glimpse of his face in this aching position with back arched, teeth shining in the low light, and eyes burning on you. He’s feral and ruined, and his fingers bend on your skin.

The building tension fades when he draws back, leaving you aching and empty. Ivarr spins you to face him as he reclines. “Ride me,” he commands, kissing you quickly, with an open mouth and teeth scraping your bottom lip. You pull away from the kiss, moving so you could sit atop him, straddling his hips, his back against a smoothed boulder. Breathless, Ivarr cannot be bothered with the loss of control —reckless abandon shines in your eyes, and he cannot help but grin as you slide down on his cock. He grunts enthralled at the feel of your warm cunt around him, walls clenching to feel every ridge and vein.

Moments pass, and you begin to move on top of Ivarr, rolling your hips into his. He groans, rough hands torn between holding onto your hips or pawing at your breasts. Instead, he decides to push himself up and let his lips attack your jaw and throat —biting and suckling— and annoyed at the slow in pace, Ivarr thrusts his hips up into yours, a sign to move faster. You don’t hesitate —lost to the exquisite bliss, clawing, desperate and eager. Holding Ivarr’s face in your hands, you try finding his lips with your own, but all you can do is moan and pant with him into his mouth, lost in the craven pleasure.

Ivarr bites hard in the crook of your shoulder and neck as he repeatedly drives his hips upward, chasing his and your releases. One of his hands slips between your bodies —his calloused thumb teasing your clit in a way that makes your hips stutter and body trembles, nails clawing into Ivarr’s shoulders. He grits his teeth, wondering if his little dove had broken skin. The burst of pain fades quickly as he watches your body bounce in time with his thrusts and listens to the moans and pants echoing off the cave walls and water.

He knows he’s close, his pants ragged and thrusts sloppy and desperate. The hitch in your breathing when he presses his thumb against your clit tells him you’re close to. It’s the boiling heat between you that takes hold, curling your toes and parting your lips in a silent throe, hands digging into Ivarr’s biceps as he chases his pleasure —teeth bared and bright eyes burning. Several thrusts later, his body tenses, and a dull warmth spreads between your connected bodies, and still, he is not done with the thrill of how you tremble and whine above him, but the rhythm soon slows, and you fall forward, resting your head on Ivarr’s chest.

You sit there, savoring the last twinges of carnal gratification, with your bodies rising and falling as you breathe in unison. And when the haze clears, you trace the small scars near his shoulders and follow the blue-black runes tattooed on his middle.

After what feels like an eternity, you feel him shift underneath you, sitting up on his hands. Ivarr glances over you —the small purple marks at the base of your neck from his lips and teeth, how your nipples are still hard, begging to have his mouth on them, and how your bodies are still connected. His cock is soft now, his seed seeping from your cunt and drying on your thighs —Ivarr thinks it a glorious sight. He hisses as he pulls himself out of your warmth, slowly, relishing in the gasps and whimpers you make at the resultant empty feeling it leaves between your thighs.

With flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you tell him you must go —this escapade would have already made you late for your daily duties, and the last thing you wish is for one of your brothers or Valka to find you in this state. He follows you from the cave behind the waterfall, back to the bank where his and your clothes are strewn. Gentler than you’d imagine, Ivarr kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before cupping your face with strong, rough fingers and moving your lips back to his. You let him move you, kissing you back, smiling against his mouth. “Come to me at nightfall,” you breathe against his lips, parting to gather up your clothes and shoes.

Ivarr grins, swatting your ass before pulling you against his chest, keeping you from reaching for your linen shift —his chin resting on your shoulder as his hand slides between your legs and two fingers sinking into your cunt, still slick with your essence and his seed. “That eager for my cock again, little dove?” He laughs.

He’s silenced when you grind back into his hips with a glint of mischief shining in your eyes. Ivarr lets you go, though reluctant, and watches you dress from the corner of his eye. It’s impulse driving you when you decide duties can wait. Smiling, you grip onto Ivarr’s wrist —he’s only half-dressed in his britches and boots, tunic in hand— and drag him away from the waterfall and toward your home in the settlement. Consequences be damned. It feels as though the gods made you and Ivarr for one another, and you aren’t willing to let another moment be wasted.

[taglist: @elizabethroestone @kitkitvm @elluvians @fullmoonwolfer1 @ghostieisalone @boodaga @southsideslutt @dynamite-with-a-lazerbeam @lizlovecraft @heathensith @alexisp787 @nobodyydobon @certifiedlittleshit ] if your name is italicized, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. if you want to be added to my taglist for Ivarr, just let me know in the replies or a DM!

[undead-merman]

this is the yan monster luci and satan requester, not a poly relationship, but just like a mutual agreement that they don't want any low life demon going near their s/o

Okay I’ve got Lucifer as a Manticore and Satan as a Sphinx. I love writing these, its a shame I can’t write these faster.

🦁Manticore Lucifer🦁 🦁Sphinx Satan🦁 as Yanderes GN- Reader SFW

Lucifer

Appearance

As a manticore his appearance is fearsome and even his presence is enough to make most others turn tail and run. His mouth is full of too big teeth, some of the long canines poking past his stern frown.

He has small hands that are more paw-like, with razor sharp claws at the end of them. He has paw pads on the tips of each of his fingers, and 3 small pads on his palms. Unlike normal paws, he does have a thumb and surprising dexterity with them.

Along his forehead and temple he has small black horns, they’re perfectly symmetrical which is unusual for a chaotic creature like himself. On top of his head, past his horns are two lion ears that twitch and turn to even the softest noises.

On the back of his neck, down his spine, are small quills tipped with a viscous venom. He is able to flatten them against his body to make them flat for his clothes many of his kind have spots open in their clothing for their spines to poke out, but Lucifer does not have have that in his clothing, He only has a spot open for his large, slightly torn bat like wings.

His tail is long and ends with a red tipped scorpion stinger, quills randomly set along it. It normally hangs low and curls up to avoid knocking things over.

His true form is like that or a normal manticore but with piercing yet silky and shiny black fur and bright glowing blood red eyes.

The Undefeatable Beast

Manticores have a reputation of being mighty beasts unable to be slain by any man, but there are rumors of some being slain. Lucifer, one of the oldest and most powerful has never been bested. Every opponent he’s ever faced has perished and only the surviving onlookers have been able to tell the tale.

His viciousness is renown all over the devildom; while he acts like a gentleman whose temper is always under wraps, he’s quiet vengeful and easy to anger. He doesn’t like to show it, he lets it simmer until he can get his revenge.

His appetite is ravenous and loves to have barely cooked meat served elegantly. He doesn’t like it raw as it feels barbaric and he enjoys the finery of life, but if he needs to he doesn’t mind eating anyone until not even the blood is left.

He does have a vulnerable side however, as since he’s that of lion and Scorpion he needs to sunbathe in order to be in top condition if he doesn’t he’s sluggish, but more brutal. Since there's no sun in the devildom he uses a light to warm himself as he lays on his sides. He looks surprisingly peaceful when warming up.

Spending Time with You

The one thing he can’t defeat, is you. He has such a soft spot for you that he is willing to do anything you ask. Giving him your big doe eyed look makes his monstrous face scrunch up and flush at you. He really can’t say no to you.

His favorite thing in the world is to lay down with you in the warm light, looking up at you as the light engulfs you and all he can see is your smiling face. He loves it when you go to run your finger through his hair or pet him. His wings shiver when you do that and his spines do as well before tightly flatting against his skin allowing you to touch him without getting poked at all,

He is fiercely protective over you. He snaps at anyone who touches you and stands behind you as someone talks to you, his icy glare focused intensely on the person you're talking with.

He loves to take you to enjoy elegant food, sights and sounds. His favorite place to take you is the opera, he loves to listen to the soft gentle melodies as he takes your hand into his.

His Dark Tendencies

Lucifer does not like others interacting with you. Should you defend another person from him too much he’ll start to get insecure. He’ll think you're forgetting about him and falling in love with someone else, and he hates that. He’ll take you even if you struggle and lock you up and keep you to himself until he feels you’ve forgotten about the other. Of course his opponent would be dealt with swiftly, and painfully.

He loves seeing you locked up, it makes the dark monster instincts churr in delight. Completely at his whims, of course he’d never hurt you too much. Should you make him angry or god forbid you try to escape, he’ll punish you by applying constant pain without actually hurting you. Painfully clamping your skin more and more until you go mad and beg him to stop. But if you made him truly angry you’ll be lashed and whipped until he feels better making you count each one out loud.

After Punishments he’s overly sweet, he’ll kiss every bruise and cut, and look at it so tenderly as he whispers about how good you are for him and how much he loves you. But he’ll graze his razor sharp teeth over your sensitive bruises just to remind you to never do it again.

Misc Stuff

When he’s extremely relaxed around you, he will let out a purr though, it’s a deep inhumane noise so deep that it shakes your chest if you’re near. He gets embarrassed if you mention it to him.

He greets those he’s close to by pressing his forehead against theirs. He does this with you, cupping your cheeks and smiling as he does it; with his Brothers and Diavolo it’s a simple tap, but with others he only nods his head. If he doesn’t like someone he simply just stares at them without blinking, glaring into them with fury.

He wants you to smell like him all the time but he gets a bit flustered about doing it. He’ll scent you by rubbing his palms, wrist and cheeks on you while you sleep or aren’t paying attention while cuddling. He feels like a tomcat when he does it but he can’t help it.

Satan

Appearance

His body is more centaur like, with the lower body of a giant winged lion. His fur is a lustrous blonde and gold color and his lower abdomen is large and bulky with thick skin and muscle.

His wings spread wide and are tipped in shimmering gold that shines in any light. The wings which are just under his humanoid hip have a blonde and gold fur, thick and volumes. While most of his mane is centered on his hips, it does have a trail of it going up his spine and shoulder blades.

Two lion ears sit on his scalp of much longer hair then normal, tied loose with a lime green ribbon. His ears constantly moving back and forth betraying his hidden emotions. They flick at nearby noise, or something that interests him, and lay flat when angry or embarrassed.

A Guardian Creature

Sphinx are mostly known for their stories of guarding treasures and tombs. A protective species and loyal to a fault. Satan is just like others of his kind, He focuses his attention to his collection of books and scrolls. Very solemnly does he allow anyone to come near his collection let alone trusts them to borrow from it.

He’ll never admit to it, but he has a lot of the same habits that Lucifer does. He enjoys lazing under a bright warm light, and your gentle strokes on him. He even purrs just like Lucifer too.

He seeks out riddles he cannot solve, he’s said to befriend those who tell him a riddle he can’t solve. He craves to expand his knowledge and find truly intelligent and wise creatures.

Spending Time with You

You had thrown him through a loop when you were given the quest to find a riddle he couldn’t solve and gave him a cheesy dad joke. Never has someone even attempted anything like that. It fascinated him and he quickly became obsessed with you.

He enjoys seeing your point of view on all kinds of topics. He’ll bring you a gift and ask for a discussion on it. He loves hearing your voice talk about the gift he got you and your thoughts on the history behind it. It stimulates such a deep part of his brain that he’s become addicted to it and he nearly brings you one everyday.

He also enjoys stupid fun. Stuff that he doesn’t have to think about too much, he finds it deeply relaxing, though he dares not let anyone but you see it.

If you ask he’ll let you pet his soft feline pads, he’ll get all flustered and squirmy with you rubbing and massaging them. They’re so soft and pink, but while you're doing that he gets to feel your hands in his paws and to him they’re the softest thing he’s ever felt.

His Dark Tendencies

Satan is so deeply infatuated with you, he simply wants to be around you constantly, never letting you out of his grasp. He, of course, loves to bring you small, cute gifts so he can see your face heat up and you look so happy, but a dark sadistic side of him loves to see you scared. The tears dripping down your face and your eyes shoot open with terror behind it. He’ll always be there to comfort you right after but a sick part of him loves to see you like that.

If you ever tried to hide from him or try to run, he would quickly catch you with a dead, unloving, and dark face. He’d carry you back, tie you up and humiliate you, force you to eat out of a cat bowl, and spank you till your rear is black and blue. He always grins from ear to ear when he sees you limping after.

He loves chaining you up and listening to you read to him. He likes playing with the chain as you read and he always complements how it looks on you.

Misc Stuff

Ashamedly he is much like a cat at heart. He finds himself a lot of time chasing bugs and chattering at birds in class. He’s so embarrassed by it that he threatens anyone who brings it up, if not clawing them in half on the spot.

He sits like a cat does, his lower body having its paws tucked in on themselves as he reads. He often falls asleep like this too, his humanoid body frozen while the bottom one is all curled up in a tight ball.

Unlike Lucifer’s more refined palette Satan can eat whatever it is put in front of him, fresh or dressed, it does matter at all, but he doesn’t eat a lot for someone his size.

Dealing with Interferences Together

Dealing with each other was nearly unbearable, but having another one in on the fear competition was unacceptable to both of them. With the two of them they could control the scenarios you were in, keep you at least near them. But having an unknown contestant was dangerous. What if They tried to touch you? Kiss you? So what they’ve done to keep you around them, the carnage they’ve left behind to scare you away from them.

Whenever someone threatened that, they agreed to quickly and quietly deal with this before you even noticed They were gone. Stalking them and finding the perfect time to strike, when together it was deathly quiet, none of them talked and the tension was so thick you’d need a chainsaw to cut through it. They would get into fights fairly often due to them bragging about the time spent with you.

They hate working together, but they do work terribly well together as well. They get everything done quickly and without a trace. Their go-to is to kidnap the offender and bring them to a private room and take any frustration they got while working together and take it out on them. Those who go into that room never come back out. After everything is taken care of they’re right back to fighting with each other for you.

[mochis-interlude]

wristbound || giyuu

this is just a little thank you for 100 followers. i hope you’ll enjoy + feeback is always appreciated! <3

↠ pairing. giyuu x fem! reader

↠ genre. fluff, angst

↠ warnings. memory loss/amnesia, minor character death, murder, graphic scenes, blood, language, implied sex work (nothing explicit)

↠ words. 11.2k

↠ summary. the little red bracelet you made when the two of you were nothing but kids, it reminded giyuu that he was always tied to your wrist.

not even your sudden disappearance could snap the wristband in two.

"[Name] didn't cause any trouble, did she?" Your brother, Haruto, was out of breath as he took a seat next to two raven-haired women who were your best friend's mother and his sister. The mother laughed, shaking her head as she already knew what happened; Haruto had once again lost sight of you and you ran away to them. Ran away to Giyuu, more specifically. 

"Not at all. By now, you should know that we love having [Name] over," she said, her blue eyes setting on the two children playing in the garden amongst flowers and butterflies. The mother's gaze softened with each passing second, heart feeling full and hopeful for her son's future. 

Tsutako's eyes followed her mom's line of sight curiously and found her younger brother proudly showing you the butterfly he caught by sheer luck. However, your eyes were glued to Giyuu's face instead of the butterfly. The corners of her mouth tugged upwards as she imagined a future for her younger brother where you were by his side through it all. "They'd make a great couple when they're older, no?" 

"Pardon me?!" Voice high-pitched, Haruto choked on his spit and ended up coughing into the sleeves of his haori. You with that boy? Impossible. Just after you were born, he promised father to take care of you, to protect you! What could a boy like Giyuu do besides catching pretty butterflies? 

Haruto was about to protest, his overprotective side over you kicking in, but he was left with an open mouth and every word dying on his tongue when your laughter bounced throughout the garden. It was a rare sound he usually didn't hear. The most Haruto would get out of you was a chuckle and a half-hearted smile which you put on like a carefully molded mask. 

You were so small and so, so young when your eyes witnessed a monster eating your parents, blood covering the place that used to be such a loving and warm home. Crimson stained the walls and the floor, organs lying about like furniture. Haruto was able to chase the monster into the early sunrise and brought its end. 

Haruto never thought you'd remember that event. 

Yet there you were, vibrantly laughing with the Tomioka boy until tears would brim your eyes, until you used up all of your energy and fell asleep in Haruto's strong arms. Maybe being with Giyuu was the equivalent of salve for your soul. 

Maybe, Tsutako was right. When the two of you grew up, you'd make a fine couple. 

"Yeah..they would," he finally agreed. 

"Here! I made these for us!" Your small hands revealed two crimson bracelets made of simple thread that you had gotten in town with your big brother. A toothy grin stretched your lips apart, revealing that one of your front teeth was missing; pride and joy was written all over your face. 

With wide eyes, Giyuu reached for one of the bracelets, looked at the gift and then back at you. "Why? It's no one's birthday today," the raven-haired kid said with an innocent tilt of his head. It wasn't that Giyuu didn't appreciate your gift, it was quite the opposite! But he also knew that your brother made just enough money to bring food to the table, so he couldn't help but feel guilty that you spent money on a gift. 

"So you never forget me, silly!" Your laugh filled the garden rich with various flowers and vegetables growing from the earth. Taking the bracelet from Giyuu's grasp, you carefully tied the simple thread around his wrist until it casually sat against his skin and wouldn't slip off. 

Forgetting you sounded ridiculous to Giyuu ㅡ why would he ever forget about his clumsy best friend? He didn't quite understand, and yet, maybe his heart did, because without realizing it, Giyuu tied your own bracelet around your wrist. The knot was far from perfect, but it was enough. 

"Besides, you must always remember that I'm never far and always with you, okay?" A blush sat upon your cheeks as you intertwined your pinky finger with Giyuu and brought them up to eye-level, tying him into a promise of a lifetime. Your heart desired nothing more than to spend a life filled with your best friend and your big brother. 

"P-promised.." Giyuu's heart fluttered, his face heated up.

But happiness was a sandcastle. 

It only took 3 months for the waves to come crashing down and take the lives of not only your brother, but Giyuu's family, as well, leaving the two of you orphaned.

However, just because you were a girl, didn't mean that Urokodaki went any easier on you. How often had you found yourself getting knocked on your back, although all you could do was blink? Incredible, you thought to yourself each and every day, even challenging Giyuu and Sabito to practice your falls and build up strength during the night until your body was bruised, possibly even ached at the mere thought to move any more.

It was a fortunate stroke of luck that Urokodaki found Giyuu and you wandering through a small village in search of shelter, taking the two of you in along with a boy named Sabito. He raised the three of you into fine swordsmen while also making sure that you had enough to eat, a place to sleep and everything that came along with a place called home. 

Despite the harsh training, you always had fun and treasured each day you got to spend with the two boys who were like brothers to you. It was the small moments making you laugh and suffer alike; like Urokodaki throwing Giyuu into the river to "become water" or how the old man smacked Sabito's stomach whenever the tension in his stomach wasn't enough for the breathing techniques. 

One night before the final selection, the warmth of flames and the smell of soup filled the space just outside of Urokodaki's small home with the three kids gathered around the small fire. It was a starry night filled with an exceptionally rich moon, the view accompanied by the sound of laughter. 

"They say you are what you eat but [Name] still isn't soup," Sabito chuckled as you slurped your tenth bowl of soup empty until no drop remained in the pristine bowl. The peach-haired boy was convinced that you had a bottomless pit as a stomach, he was always astonished at the amount you managed to eat in one sitting. 

"You say that like I ate a lot," you pouted at Sabito's small poke, but never took it seriously. Shoulders casually shrugged it off while you were basking in the warmth the small fire provided. Although it was far from being cold, the breeze in the mountains was still chilly and liked to nip at your cheeks. 

Next to you, Giyuu laughed and the glow of the flames dipped his face in an orange hue, making your heart jump within your ribcage. Painfully, you had come to realize that as you grew up with Giyuu, the boy made your heart flutter in a way which certainly wasn't fair. Perhaps..you did have a crush on your best friend, but you'd never say it out loud. 

"[Name], you ate more than Sabito and I combined." Giyuu's laughter died down as he brought his own bowl to his lips and sipped the steaming broth Urokodaki had cooked just for the three of you.

Whenever everyone gathered to have dinner and Sabito would be amazed at your appetite, it reminded Giyuu of all the times you'd come over to his family's place and eat with them. Haruto would scold you for eating too much, Mother would laugh and gladly make you another plate while Giyuu would always give you the veggies he didn't like. 

"It's called having a healthy appetite, Giyuu. Your points are invalid," you declared with a dismissive wave of your hand and snickered as you saw your best friend's shoulders slump at your words.

Peaceful moments like these were rare with the training you went through daily and the upcoming final selection made every day a little bit more tense. Of course, you were aware of Sabito's and Giyuu's polished skills and had confidence in your own swordsmanship, but it was a fact that no one knew what would happen in those seven days. 

"[Name] isn't wrong about this." Urokodaki put some extra wood into the fire, flames licking at the bork and effectively melting the layer away. The Tengu mask made it impossible to look at Urokodaki's face, but judging by his tone, the former Hashira had to wear a serious expression on his face. 

"Let me tell you one thing. Just like humans, demons gain their strength from the humans they consume. The more a demon has eaten, the stronger it is." Everyone listened to Urokodaki's words with perked ears and curious eyes as if they could study the information like a book. "Some demons devoured so many that their bodies are deformed. It ranges from mere horns to multiple body parts and extreme growth spurts."

"If they're stronger, their neck also gets tougher to cut, right?" Sabito still cupped his empty bowl to warm up his hands. He didn't sound nervous at all, if anything, he was nothing but confident in himself which was something you admired. Sabito was like a strong boulder that one could always rely on. 

Urokodaki nodded his head. "Yes."

Giyuu saw the way you unconsciously bit your bottom lip, how your nails dug themselves into the ground and fingers occasionally fumbled with a bit of grass. Whenever you started feeling insecure, you'd always bite your lip or the inside of your cheek, a habit of yours which Giyuu had caught on to years ago. 

As Giyuu got older, he grew more hesitant at holding your hand in a reassuring way. Although Sabito would never tease him about it, there was something special tickling in his belly whenever he reached for your hand. It made red rush to his cheeks, but the smile you gave him afterwards was worth the embarrassment he felt. 

"Thank you," you mouthed, Giyuu exhaled shakily. 

You made his heart feel too funny with the tiniest of things.

Footwear left deep prints in the muddy earth, high trees and thick bushes made it hard to see what was next, but you had to push through whatever lurked around the next corner. 

After all, this was the second day of the final selection. 

It was all about surviving 7 days in a forest filled to the brim with demons who were close to starvation. Kill or be killed, it was. 

You were lucky not to have encountered any nasty demon and only had to worry about what you should eat next, but you thought of it as a bad omen. There was no way in hell the three of you could have so much luck and even if that was the case, it felt like those two days, devoid of any fight, took up all the luck you were supposed to have in one lifetime. 

"Watch out, it's slippery!" Sabito ran down a small hill and nearly fell, but caught his balance just in time. He swore he saw a squirrel which he could cook later, but the animal sure was quick to run away from being eaten. 

You were right behind Sabito, but much more careful than he was and slid down the hill on instinct. It had rained the entire day, so of course, the ground would be slippery, muddy and filled with puddles.

"Ah!"

Looking back, you saw Giyuu sitting on the wet ground and pressing a hand to his forehead. You went back, wanting to see what had gone wrong, but as you got closer, you saw blood severely dripping from his forehead, over his eyelids and down his cheeks. Not even his sword was to be seen anywhere; he possibly lost it just now. 

"Giyuu, can you walk?" You offered him your hand which the boy gratefully took, but he couldn't seem to properly pull himself to his feet, his gaze seemed fuzzy, unfocused. 

Scanning the area, you saw a small rock with fresh splatters of blood on it. So that was why.. 

A heavy trauma to the head. No wonder Giyuu was somewhere between unconsciousness and reality.

"Don't worry, we got this." Calmly, you examined the bleeding wound and pushed the uneven fringe out of the way to get a better look at it. Giyuu hissed when your finger brushed over the injury. "Sabito, can you watch out for demons? Just in case."

Sabito pulled his sword out of its sheath and protectively stood in front of Giyuu and you, one arm stretched out to his side to block the view of you patching up his friend. "Got it." 

What were you supposed to do without any bandages? You scanned the area in hopes of finding something, anything that could slow down the bleeding, but all you saw was earth, leaves and some bushes. Stupid, to think that you'd magically see a pharmacy in the woods. 

Then, your eyes settled on the sleeve of your haori. It took you no longer than a moment to unsheath your sword, cut through the fabric and tightly tie it around Giyuu's forehead who groaned in pain. "I'm sorry," you mumbled and finished the improvised banades up with a tight knot. 

You were about to help Giyuu back on his feet, but at once, the ground shook beneath you in rhythmical periods. 

"There's something!" Sabito breathed more to himself, but you were able to catch it with your senses suddenly heightened by the incoming rush of adrenaline. Giyuu still applied pressure to his injury, his sight switching from complete nothingness to what was happening around him.

Instantaneously, your eyes widened in horror at the demon that was trudging towards the three of you and giggled as it swallowed another kid that he managed to eat. 

He was deformed to the bone, several hands hugged its tall, green body. Eyes, disgustingly big, stared at Sabito, then you and Giyuu before his hands began scratching at his skin in an anxious, excited manner. 

"Ohh! Urokodaki is feeding me even more kids than usual this time! I bet the three of you are delicious! I can only imagine the face he'll make when three students won't make it back to him!" 

Sabito planted both of his feed into the ground, the tip of his sword pointed at the demon's neck. "[Name], you protect Giyuu. I'll lop off the head." As soon as the words left Sabito's mouth, Giyuu was about to protest but stumbled back into your body, your arms catching him before he could trip, again. 

"Be careful." You nodded at Sabito and took a defensive stance right in front of Giyuu, holding the blade right next to your head while your hands were grasping the handle tightly. As blue eyes watched your back, watched his two best friends fight, Giyuu felt as helpless as the night his family got massacred. 

All he could do was watch. 

Perversely large hands dashed at Sabito who leapt through those which didn't radiate murderous intent and cut off the hands aiming for his body. He jumped on one of the demon's arms, dodging a fist coming his way by ducking low and sliding along the green skin. 

You blocked a fist with the help of your sword and got pushed back a few meters before you twisted the handle in your grasp, abruptly slicing through the fist from below. "Are you okay, Giyuu?!" 

As much as you wanted to take a look back and check up on him, you absolutely couldn't take your eyes off the battle or else, the demon could get Giyuu or even the both of you. 

While you were stepping in puddles of blood, cutting those disgusting hands off and had to focus on not taking a lethal hit, you still worried about Giyuu. It made his heart clench painfully in his chest. If only he knew where his sword was, then he'd force himself to fight alongside Sabito and you!

"Don't worry about me, [Name]!" 

You were so busy concentrating on what was happening in front of you that you failed to notice the one hand underneath your feet. Before you could even think about using a breathing technique or leaping up into the air, the hand wrapped itself around your ankle and threw you away like you were nothing but a fly. 

"[Name]!" Saito and Giyuu shouted your name in unison, watching in horror as you flew farther away with each second. 

You desperately stretched one of your arms out in the desperate hope of being able to grab on to a branch and get back to the fight, but it was wishful thinking. 

"I'll come back!" You cried out until your vocal chords protested and nearly gave in. The air in your lungs became needles. "Until then, survive, got it?! You must survive!" 

"Whatever you do, you've got to survive!" Hands clinging to the katana you carried with you, you screamed at the top of your lungs one last time. Bit by bit, your friends seemed to become dots. "Survive! Sabito! Giyuu!"

Sabito clenched his jaw, teeth grinding against one another as anger bubbled deep within his heart and threatened to spill like an overflowing sink. 

He charged at the demon with a yell and got so very close to the neck, ready to chop it off when his blade suddenly snapped into two. 

Giyuu watched in horror as the demon used Sabito's surprised state to his advantage and smashed his friend's head in. 

All he could do was watch. 

All he could do was run.

Agonizingly, your body collided with the hard ground and filled your mouth with blood, several cracking sounds travelled throughout your body like electricity. As you gasped for air, you nearly choked on your own blood and coughed it out, a crimson puddle lingering underneath you. 

You didn't know where exactly you were nor did you know how long it'd take you to get back to your friends, but you had to find a way. No matter how much your body ached, no matter how loudly every fiber of your body screamed at you to stop, you couldn't. 

It was through pure will that you managed to bury the tips of your fingers into the dirt and drag yourself to your blade lying a few meters in front of you. Your view was blurry, but you still managed to make out that the Nichirin blade Urokodaki had given you had snapped in half and it had you mentally laughing. 

He was going to break your bones, wasn't he? 

"Just a little bit.." You croaked out with your hand desperately reaching for the handle of the katana. Just a little bit more, just a few more centimeters and the handle would be back in your broken hand, but just before you could even touch it, your arm limply fell to the ground. As much as you wanted to move, forced yourself to go that one extra step, your body didn't listen.

Gradually, black hugged the corners of your view and the ability to hear slowly faded into nothing. No longer could you feel the ground below you or smell the scent of the trees surrounding you; opaque came to envelope you and drag you to the depths of unconsciousness. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks, dampening the earth below you and eventually soaking the collar of the haori you wore. You had promised Urokodaki to come back, you had promised to live a long life, you had promised to stay by Sabito's and Giyuu's side and now, you couldn't even promise to move your finger. 

"Giyuu.. Sabito.. Forgive me, but I won't make it back.." 

The last thing you saw was the moon reflected in the broken blade and the red bracelet firmly wrapped around your wrist.

Three days had been spent looking for you in hopes of finding you only injured, but still alive. Three days without a clue of where you could be, but Giyuu clung to the slim hope of you lying somewhere in these cursed woods, unconscious but well. 

It was that thread of hope that kept his hand glued to the blade, kept his head up and forced his gaze to look ahead. 

Feet had run through countless rough patches until blisters hurt Giyuu, but he simply ran through them until his feet got sore and he would be damned if he stopped running at that very moment. After all, persistence and determination would pay off, right? The strong-willed would always be rewarded after going through hell and back. 

Nearing a river, Giyuu spotted a broken katana as well as smudges of blood on the ground and immediately slid down the small hill he was on. In his rush, he stumbled over his feet and fell to his knees right next to the blade which he knew was yours. 

The thread of hope finally snapped. 

Frantically, he scanned the area for any sign of you being alive, but all he found was the dried puddle of blood and the snapped Nichirin blade Urokodaki had given you just before heading off for this damned final selection. 

With shaking fingers, Giyuu picked up the handle of the sword, hot tears streaming down his face. "[Name]..?" His voice was fragile, on the verge of breaking with every second spent in deafening silence. Giyuu couldn't find it in him to get up, his knees felt like broken mirrors which would stab into his flesh and force him to kneel, regardless of what he desperately wanted to do.

"Please, this isn't funny!" The raven-haired boy called out and tears began blurring his vision, sniffles and choked back sobs rocked his body. "[Name]!" Giyuu hugged the handle of your katana to his chest as he curled up into himself and sobbed into the new day that had just begun. 

Why did the universe take away every person he loved so dearly? 

First, it was his family, then Sabito and you that got ripped from his grasp, lives he treasured more than anything else, people who he would've died for. 

"[Name].. You promised to come back.." The boy murmured to no one and let his eyes travel to the wristband you had made so many years ago. It was physical proof that you were always with him and never far, that he would never forget you and that your lives were intertwined like the sun and the moon. 

"Give me [Name] back.."

It was at this moment that a Demon Hunter of higher rank called out to a whimpering Giyuu and brought him back to where the final selection started, a place filled with beautifully blooming wisteria. 

Everyone came back. 

Everyone except for you and Sabito. 

How was Giyuu supposed to face Urokodaki after this?

Lead flowed through every single vein as Giyuu dragged himself back to Urokodaki's home, body heavy with the strain of surviving for 7 days straight, but compared to the gilt gnawing away at his heart, it was bearable. 

If only he hadn't gotten injured, then maybe Sabito would still be alive, standing right next to him with an equally aching body but still smiling through the pain because they would've made it. 

If only Giyuu had gotten to the river a bit earlier, you'd be swooning over Urokodaki's food and excitedly tell the elder man about all the achievements and experiences you gained. You, too, would be alive and smiling. 

The young boy stopped dead in his tracks as his blue eyes spotted Urokodaki chopping up some wood with an axe which the former Hashira dropped when his gaze fell upon Giyuu. 

Sadness lingered in Urokodaki's nose and was quick to mix with relief of still being alive, yet Giyuu reeked of regret, grief and sorrow. He couldn't blame the young boy. Urokodaki knew how attached Giyuu was to Sabito and you. The three of you would always train together, share food among one another like you were siblings and cut worries in half simply by being present. 

Giyuu was desperately trying to bite back new sobs and tears, since Sabito would be the one to say that a man should suffer in silence. On the other hand, there was you who looked so upset when he once tried to hide an injury from you.

"Stop acting tough." You had once said.

The entire sky came crashing down on Giyuu as he felt his teacher's arms wrapping around him to welcome him home, to express gratefulness that he made it back. 

"Sabito and [Name]!" Giyuu could no longer hold his tears at bay, they freely rolled down his cheek like waves crashed into the shore. It was too much and yet not enough. "Urokodaki-san! They.. They..!" His voice broke a little more with each word that Giyuu tried to force out of his throat, but the lump of sorrow cut through his vocal chords. 

"I'm glad you're back," was all Urokodaki managed to say and he hoped it'd take a bit of weight off the young boy's shoulders. He feared that if he tried to speak any more, he would cry more than he already was, as well. During the time as a teacher, Urokodaki had lost so many of his students who grew on him ㅡ Sabito, Giyuu and you were no exception. 

Sadness poked around deeply in his heart, but it was Urokodaki's duty to make sure that his student wouldn't be overcome by his current despair. He knew Giyuu would be able to overcome his sorrow and grow into a good person. 

But first, time needed to heal the wound which was still bleeding so heavily. 

Giyuu rubbed his eyes dry with the sleeve of his haori, took off the small bag he carried on his back and showed Urokodaki the broken blade which had belonged to you. "Do you.. Do you think it can be fixed?" 

Urokodaki took the two parts into his hands and was surprised at how jaded the blade was. It didn't even cut his finger like it was supposed to and the color had disappeared from the sword like it had never been wielded by anyone in the first place. "That can be arranged. I'll ask Haganezuka."

Two weeks passed when Haganezuka arrived with two swords in his hands and nearly lost his mind when Giyuu said that he wasn't a dual wielder and only needed one blade. 

"You little..! What do you mean you can't wield both?! It'd be disgraceful not to wield both Nichirin blades!" Haganezuka screeched loud enough for his voice to echo through every corner of Mount Sagiri. It took so long to make the broken sword look like it had never been broken and this brat didn't even think about testing it out! 

Giyuu never pulled the blade out of the sheath as you were the one who should do it and witness the change of colors with your own eyes. "I'm sorry." It wasn't necessary to let the swords smith in on the details when he was a stranger. A weird stranger, at that. 

"Sorry doesn't cut it!" 

Despite the strange encounter with Haganezuka who was oddly dedicated to his craft, as Giyuu would put it, the sword was always held close to his heart. It was a reminder of the life Sabito and you gifted him, that he should work harder to be able to protect those around him. 

When Giyuu climbed through the ranks and was able to afford his own estate, the first thing he had hung up was the sword you fought with.

It was 8 years later when bare feet danced on the wooden floor like water flowed through the river. No unnecessary steps, elegance connected every single move like stars made up beautiful constellations which left people in awe each and every time. 

Several women watched with parted lips and sparkling eyes as this person was a constellation herself, someone they could learn and profit from if they watched closely enough. But they knew that this level of accurate and controlled movements required not only effort, but talent as well. 

When feet ceased to float and the music humming in the background died down, one woman in particular ran up to the young dancer, manicured nails squishing the full cheeks together. "Isn't she amazing?" Mizu nearly squeaked with pride and reddened cheeks while receiving agreeing nods from the other women. 

Mizu was an oiran living in Yoshiwara, a red light district. She was rather beautiful with her opaque hair kept into a bun and held together by golden hairpins, her lips painted crimson and fair skin, although most of her pale skin was thanks to the help of make-up. 

"[Name] really is amazing," one of the women said smiling, her palms on her lap as she agreed with Mizu. 

Such praise was often thrown your way only because Mizu was in the room. No one dared to openly point out your mistakes and actively help you improve your skills, so you had no choice but to ask the women yourself when Mizu was out of hearing-range. 

This issue wasn't the only thing keeping everyone on the edge of their seat. 

Whenever a severe mistake happened, that woman was sure to disappear within the next night. Stomping could clearly be heard, you swore the mere sound gave off a murderous intent so intense that it left you shaking underneath the security of your blankets. 

When asking if one of your fellow workers could also sense the blood lust every once in a while, they said no. Apparently, they couldn't feel the immense anger creeping throughout the house like you could which left you confused. However, the fact that your senses were so sharp and sensitive to blood lust made you wonder if you had lived a different life before you woke up in Yoshiwara. 

Actually, you were sure that you had lived differently before finding yourself in Yoshiwara, but your memories were erased. Proof of your previous lifestyle were your calloused palms, the small scars on them which the other women always pitied you for as it apparently wasn't fit for a lady to have rough palms. 

Then there was this wristband which you wore for a reason long forgotten.

All you could remember was your name when you one day woke up on a tatami mat underneath a safe roof with several women in the room. You couldn't answer a single question regarding your past, the years of your life suddenly drowned in black as you tried your best to remember what happened, what caused the pain in your body, but it was no good. 

"Thank you for your kind words. If you'd excuse me." As you turned around to leave for the bathrooms, you felt Mizu's eyes on your back and you knew that she had nothing but love swimming in her dark eyes, and yet, you sensed something much deeper, so much darker lurking within them that a shiver rolled down your spine. 

One woman responsible for today's cleaning stood next to the highly-respected oiran. "Wherever you picked [Name] up from, it's a gift you found her. She might as well take your place someday, Mizu-san."

A gift you were indeed, but the way you danced bugged Mizu. It reminded her of the fighting techniques of Demon Slayers. Filthy. "Yeah. Who knows what might've happened to her if it was someone else that found her.." Mizu brought the sleeve of her kimono up to her lips, hiding the lower part of her face and tilted her head to the side as she watched you disappear behind shoji doors, briefly remembering where she had found you nearly a decade ago.

"Oh my, what a poor thing." Mizu knelt down to where you laid on the ground, your breathing was shallow and your hand outstretched as if reaching out to the sword in front of you. Manicured nails pushed your bangs out of your face and traced the bruises along your cheek and neck, feeling that your jaw was, indeed, broken. 

"You'd look beautiful without all these ugly stains," she mused while twisting a strand of your dirtied hair around her index finger, crimson red lips frowned at the miserable state you were in. So far gone, you couldn't even hear her voice, feel her touch.

Reaching behind her head, Mizu took two hairpins out of her hair and styled your hair into a bun, the hairpins keeping the look somewhat together. You reminded her of the daughter she once had before the small child suddenly died. Mizu desired nothing more than to have her daughter back and you were the perfect fit. 

"You'd make a beautiful oiran, one day. Maybe I should make you my daughter." Mizu smiled into the night at the thought of having a daughter, such a stunning one, too. With her, you'd be better off than with those filthy slayers if the sword in front of you was anything to go by. She could give you all the riches you desired, all the kimonos, money, men and women you could ever want. 

Those Demon Hunters could only offer you death. 

"From today on, you'll be my lovely daughter," Mizu cheered and poked at your cheek to maybe gain a reaction, but all she heard was an incoherent mumble of names she had never heard of. Unimportant, these people no longer mattered. 

Carefully, Mizu picked you up with a smile and disappeared into the night.

The water was pleasantly warm against your skin as you washed the heavy make-up off your face, several colors went down the drain and no longer stuck in place like a mask. Luckily, you didn't have to show your face to any outsider that night, or else the amount of make-up would suffocate you. 

A sigh escaped through your lips when your eyes landed on that red wristband, the threads wet and soaked with water, but still perfectly intact. You didn't know why, but your heart always ached a little whenever you thought about its origin and the possible memories connected to this little item. 

Maybe someone important gave it to you? 

Maybe that someone was looking for you and could help you regain your memories! 

Ah, what were you thinking? Stuff like this only existed in romantic novels. 8 years had passed and no one had ever looked for you, you were certain of that. No had ever asked around for you, no one had ever put up a picture of your face, no one had cared enough. 

Whenever you'd ask Mizu about where she found you and what you did before joining the house she lived in, she brushed you off, saying that it was time for your Japanese class, time to practice calligraphy or dancing, when in reality she only wanted you to be distracted and busy. 

"Maybe I should give up and just live with it..," you mumbled into the towel as you dried your face. At least, you would no longer anger Mizu or make the other women nervous when asking anything regarding your past. 

Having made up your mind, you trudged back into your empty room. No matter how many paintings you had hung up, no matter how many clothes filled your wardrobe and no matter how much jewelry Mizu made you wear on your hands and neck, it was empty. 

You were lucky to live, but were you really alive or simply a shell of who you used to be? 

After countlessly tossing and turning, your body finally found some rest and dragged you into a deep slumber.

Streets filled with people were never one of Giyuu's favorites. He preferred executing his job in the mountains where he wouldn't have to hide his sword from the police and didn't have the stress of potentially having to protect a large number of people if a demon was to show up. 

One good thing about cities was the food. The steaming bowl of ramen warmed Giyuu up from within as the chilly evening breeze nipped at his cheeks, tinting the flesh a faint shade of red. 

"It's almost unbelievable that a demon is supposed to be here. Right, Tomioka-san?" Shinobu sat next to Giyuu and enjoyed her own portion of food. Just behind her back, people chattered away and children played tag with each other, from somewhere further away, she could even make out the faint strumming of an instrument. 

Apparently, a demon was hiding somewhere in Yoshiwara. Every few months, women, prostitutes, to be more specific, suddenly disappeared and had never been seen again. Of course, the rumor of those women losing her footing had spread, but this was as waterproof as paper. 

Those women had never shown signs of wanting to run away with a man. Love letters were never found nor did they suddenly receive a good amount of money or saw someone especially frequently. 

"Demons can hide anywhere." Giyuu's ears picked up how some men asked for some lady's services and briefly, the thought of a demon hiding in a brothel crossed his mind. However, he had never heard of a demon seeking refuge in such business since those places were too crowded to commit a proper murder.

"You're not wrong about this." Shinobu sat back in her seat and put her chopsticks on her empty plate before something caught her attention. What was this red bracelet around Giyuu's wrist? Had it always been there or did he get it recently? 

A teasing smile tugged the corners of her lips upwards as she rested her chin on her palm, an index finger pointing at Giyuu's wrist. "Tomioka-san, did you get that wristband from someone special? I didn't know you were the type to be so romantic!" She chirped. 

Blue irises gazed at the red threads laced into one thick wristband which was usually hidden underneath the sleeve of his uniform or haori, so no one really ever saw it. "It's nothing like that." Despite his nonchalant words, Giyuu couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. 

"Eh?! Are you smiling?!" Shinobu could hardly believe her eyes and felt a shiver run down her spine. This was..scary. 

"..We're here to look for a demon, aren't we?"

Attentively, you sat close to a river, eyes wide and scanning the area for a familiar mop of black hair tied into a low ponytail. From afar, you could hear an old man giving someone the instruction to become one with the water in order to master the breathing techniques. 

Just a moment later, a yell echoed through the mountains followed by a noisy splash and the yell got cut off. 

"___-san really threw him into the river, huh," you chuckled as you remembered how you nearly drowned the first time the elderly man tossed you into the river like a rubber duck. Now it was the boy's turn. 

Minutes of silence filled the space around you, only the water flowing in front of you filled the tranquil space and then, several gasps shattered the peaceful atmosphere. 

The boy you had to look out for coughed up water as he dragged himself out of the river, his body soaked to the bone and what was that on his hand? Blood? He possibly cut himself on a stone underwater. 

Leaping up from your seated position and jogging over to your friend, you gave his back a few firm smacks until he breathed normally again. "I feel like ____-san really wants to kill us," the boy looked up at you, but..you couldn't see his face. It was black. 

"Speaking of dying. What was that on your hand?" you spoke and tried to get a look at the boy's hand, but he quickly hid his hands behind his back, pressing the back of his hands against his lower back. "___, show me!" You insisted and eventually, your friend showed you the cut on the back of his hand. 

The cut wasn't deep, but it still bled profusely down his wrist. Clicking your tongue, you reached into your pocket and revealed simple bandages which you always kept with you in case you got injured. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" The boy saw the upset look on your face, brows furrowed and your eyes scolding him. 

Wasn't it his friend that said that a man should bear his pain in silence? 

"I'm sorry, [Name]," he avoided your gaze, focusing on the bracelet you had once made for him, instead. It was better than having to bear the disappointment in your eyes. 

"Stop acting tough." You tied the bandage around the boy's hand a bit too tight, making him flinch at the pain shooting through his hand. It was unusual for you to be so rough. "I'll always find out if you're hurt."

In a cold sweat, gasping for air, you suddenly sat straight in bed. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, your sleepwear was drenched in sweat at your neck and back, the fabric clung to you like a second skin. Putting a hand on your chest, you tried your best to control your breathing, but the more you tried, the more you could feel a headache stinging in the back of your head. 

Whatever you just saw, it was a mere dream, right? Yet, one could usually hear names and see the faces of the people appearing in a dream, but whenever names fell, they were muted. Whenever you saw a face, it was covered in black. 

They were nameless, faceless people. 

Perhaps, this was a memory? 

"Crap," you hissed as the stinging got to your eyes like a migraine and roughly pushed the blanket off your body as you got up to maybe talk about it with Mizu or someone else. Yes, you promised not to bother anyone with your dreams or past, but this left your hands and mind shaking. 

Carefully, as to not make any noise, your bare feet padded along the wooden hallways, every shoji door was shut and no light was on, indicating that all of the women were busy with men downstairs. What a pain, you thought. Keeping married and single men pleased at night was something which never appealed to you, even though Mizu had raised you to possess the needed skills. 

Lost in thought, you nearly missed how the light of several candles lit up a single room, the shoji door wasn't even fully closed. You finally found someone! 

"I'm sorry for bothering you this late at night, but I was wondering ifㅡ"

You were greeted by the sight of blood being smeared across the wall and pooling right at your feet, bones sticking out from the corpse of the woman who had praised you earlier. Your head screamed at you to run, but your body didn't listen. It was itching to reach for something that wasn't strapped to your hip.

"It's a shame you had to see me like this, [Name]." Opaque hair was loose, red lipstick got replaced by the dead woman's blood which was also dripping down claws.

Mizu tossed the corpse away from her and faced you, slowly approaching you with cold steps. Her pupils were no longer round but resembled that of a cat. Smirking, she watched as your legs trembled in fear when she delicately cupped your face in her hand. "I promised myself to never eat you unless you saw me killing someone. But maybe it's exactly because you are my daughter that you'll be extra nutritious."

Horns made of bones stuck out from Mizu's head, resembling the ears of a bunny. At that very moment, you heard a voice inside your head.

"Some demons devoured so many that their bodies are deformed. It ranges from mere horns to multiple body parts and extreme growth spurts."

"Demon!" You gasped, pushed Mizu away from you with all the strength you had in your arms and made a run for it. Splinters dug into the soles of your feet, but you didn't care. What mattered was your survival, your life, the life Haruto and Tsutako left behind for you! 

Wait, Haruto and Tsutako..? Who..?

You stopped dead in your tracks, the sound of Mizu's traditional heels rhythmically clicking against the floor haunted you. 

Fleeing downstairs was no option. Innocent lives could easily be taken by Mizu and there was no way you could protect all of them when you couldn't even properly protect yourself. Panic-stricken, your eyes found nothing but paintings decorating the walls, a mere fan and a..

A katana!

Grabbing the katana from the wall, you held it with both hands as tightly as you could, the tip pointing at Mizu's neck. 

"You're hilarious, [Name]! Don't tell me you're remembering now when it's too late." Mizu pushed some of her hair behind her shoulder as she laughed at your poor attempt to take her down. However, it seemed like your body was beginning to remember whatever a fragile human once taught you and it wasn't like you had completely forgotten how to move, either. 

A laugh shook the demon's shoulders as she stretched her palm out and let a bone grow from her skin. Mizu pointed the sharp bone towards you, shooting it in your direction with the expectation to heavily injure you and kill you in the end. 

What she didn't expect was the way you vertically cut through the bone, letting drop to the ground uselessly. Your jaw was clenched, eyes wide open with sweat trickling down your forehead and the katana in your hand like it had always belonged there. 

"I don't know what you're saying, but I know that I can't let you live!" Zooming right in Mizu's face, you aimed for her stomach to weaken her, but she was faster. Grabbing your head, she effectively put you off-balance and rammed another bone into your side as if she saw no daughter in you. 

"You've always had a funny side to you, but right now, you're looking like a jester. You, killing me? Not even you are that dumb." Mizu wore an unimpressed expression as you fell to your knees and coughed up blood. Hastily, you ripped a good amount of fabric from your yukata and tightly wrapped it around your waist to slow down the bleeding. 

The demon never stopped you. Sooner or later, you'd faint and die from blood loss. This was nothing but a fool's attempt to desperately prolong their end. 

"That katana can't kill me. As a former Demon Slayer, you should know that only a Slayer's blade and sunlight can kill a demon." A swift kick to your face had blood dripping down your nose, but your palm wrapped itself around Mizu's ankle tight enough to make your arm's veins pop, tight enough to prevent her, a demon, from moving.

"Breathing Techniques make it possible for a human to gain demonic strength themselves. But unlike demons, a human's stamina is limited."

Within a moment, Mizu's ankle was in your hand, her blood flowing down your forearm as you tossed the cut off limb away. Immediately, you pulled her into a close-range fight, but the several bones beginning to stick out from her body pushed you further away with each step you took. The sharp bones left cuts on not only your face, but your arms and legs as well. 

"I don't care if it can't kill you! I refuse to go down without a fight! I'll simply keep you busy until the sun rises!"

Searching for that demon in Yoshiwara was a lost cause. 

No one had any suspicions or those people were just too scared to talk, fearing that they might mysteriously disappear, as well. The tension in Yoshiwara spread far and wide, yet there wasn't even the trace of a demon to be found. 

"We can't talk. Otherwise, we'll disappear, as well."

"Those women are said to have lost their footing, but.. No, it doesn't matter."

"..Whatever are you talking about?"

Excuses upon excuses. But Giyuu could hardly interrogate simple passengers and ask them about the existence of a being which they were unaware of or didn't believe in. 

Frustrated, he shut the shoji door of his home and sighed. 

Suddenly, a shrill clink bounced off the plain walls of Giyuu's home and as he raised his gaze, he saw the Nichirin sword ㅡ which was supposed to be yours if you had survived ㅡ on the floor, the steel shone in the moonlight peeking through the windows of his home. 

His heart felt heavy as he wondered what color your katana would have become, how you would've wielded it, how bright your smile would've been if you had had the chance to receive it. 

Giyuu picked the colorless weapon up, wanted to put it back on its place at the wall when suddenly his kasugai crow landed on the window sill, cawing so loudly that it made his ears ring. 

"[Name] who was assumed to have died in the final selection 8 years ago, needs backup fighting a demon!" The old crow impatiently bounced around, wings already spread and ready to take off. "Hurry to Yoshiwara! Hurry, hurry! " 

"[Name]..?" Gradually, Giyuu's usually calm gaze widened and filled with infinite questions while he was wordlessly staring at your sword. Why were you alive and how in the world did you survive? Why did you never come back? What held you back? 

With a flick of his wrist, he hid the plain Nichirin blade in the sleeve of his mismatched haori and was out of his home faster than the crow could perceive. 

The Hashira couldn't be late. He couldn't be late, again. 

This time, he'd be the one to protect you.

"Get out of here!" You cried to the people who had been very obviously enjoying themselves with alcohol, food and women until Mizu had kicked you through the floor which was also the ceiling of the floor below. 

No one seemed to fully realize what happened, reality only kicked in slowly when they took note of your battered form and Mizu coming down the stairs as elegantly as ever, but the blood on her and the aura she radiated created nothing but fear. 

All of a sudden, they screamed and ran, talking about a monster possessing their beloved lady who was attempting to kill one of their own. 

Making sure that everyone got out safely was a mistake. You didn't even realize Mizu leaving her spot on the stairs as she was suddenly right in front of you, way too close to be considered a safe distance. Crap, there was no way you'd get out of this unscathed. 

The bone sticking out from Mizu's palm aimed for your right eye, ready to pierce through your skull and put an end to the prosperous life you could lead thanks to the demonic woman. In an act of despair, you swung your katana vertically in an attempt to cut off her arm, but Mizu just smirked as the blade got stuck, not even budging a centimeter, anymore. 

This was it. This attack would be your downfall, you thought. 

"Water Breathing. Second form: Water Wheel."

You stumbled backwards, falling on your knees and all your eyes could catch was Mizu's arm suddenly dropping to the ground along with the katana stuck in her flesh. Blood stained the carpet an ugly red, a loud hiss came from Mizu's direction, her pupils shaking and mouth unusually quiet.

"A..H-Hashira..?" Claws digged into the flesh of her palm bit by bit, her fist shook and goosebumps were scattered across her skin. Just the mere aura of that Demon Slayer terrified her; he was way too calm and yet she could feel racing anger bubbling underneath the surface. No, she couldn't let a mere human intimidate her. What ridiculous excuse of a demon would get intimidated by a man wielding a sword? 

Hashira..?

Looking up, you saw the broad back of a man wearing a mismatched haori but what stood out to you was the red wristband he wore. It looked like the one around your wrist but could it be the same? What were the odds of two strangers wearing the same red bracelet? Impossible. 

A sudden sting in your head interrupted your running mind.

"Besides, you must always remember that I'm never far and always with you, okay?" A blush sat upon your cheeks as you intertwined your pinky finger with Giyuu and brought them up to eye-level, tying him into a promise of a lifetime.

Fingers tangled themselves into your hair, pulling at the roots. 

"Stop acting tough." You tied the bandage around Giyuu's hand a bit too tight, making the boy flinch at the pain shooting through his hand. It was unusual for you to be so rough. "I'll always find out if you're hurt."

Panting, you closed your eyes shut until it hurt. Why did you feel like you knew the man in front of you?

"Whatever you do, you've got to survive!" Hands clinging to the katana you carried with you, you screamed at the top of your lungs one last time. Bit by bit, your friends seemed to become dots. "Survive! Sabito! ...

..Giyuu!" You finally yelled the man's name out like he was the answer to everything you had been looking for, like he was the missing piece to the puzzle of your life. Unknowingly, tears freely flowed from your eyes, making the cuts on your face sting and burn.

A quick move of his wrist was enough to flick Mizu's blood off his sword. "Don't you dare touch her!" Giyuu wasn't one to lose his calm demeanor often, but what he absolutely couldn't stand was the ones he cared for getting hurt, bruised, made to suffer. 

You wiped the blood trickling from your mouth away with the back of your hand, lips tugging themselves upwards as you pushed yourself up to your feet once more and stood next to Giyuu. "I'll fight with you. This is a personal matter."

Giyuu was about to protest, tell you to leave this place, but the sharp shimmer cutting through your eyes immediately took down every word that was on his tongue. Never had you backed down from a fight, never had you let anything break you, never had you ever given up. 

Wordlessly, he let the katana he hid in the sleeve of the haori, slide into his palm and handed it to you. As soon as your fingers were wrapped around the handle, the blade turned into a clear baby blue, several shades lighter than Giyuu's Nichirin blade. 

"I'll handle the bones. You go for the head."

Giyuu dashed ahead while you cut your way through the maze of bones sticking out from wherever Mizu desired, her attacks got rougher as if she was suddenly frightened. Good. "You brat! Do you really think one more person would be enough to claim my head?!" Mizu stomped her foot once. 

That stomping.. You were familiar with it. 

It'd occur once every few months before a woman would go missing without a trace. This action always frightened you as the murderous intent in it was so overwhelming that unconsciously, tears would brim your eyes.

Quickly, you grabbed the back of Giyuu's haori and slid to the side with him before several rib-shaped bones dashed up from the ground, their sharp tips shining underneath the chandelier. If you hadn't been so familiar with Mizu's blood lust, you were sure you would've been pierced pork by now. 

Thanks to the sliding, you had gotten close enough to Mizu, giving you the perfect opportunity to chop off her head before she could cause any more pain and damage. "Go!" You cried out loud enough for your voice to crack and swung your blade at Mizu's face to slice her horizontally, the demon stopping your blade with her bare hands. 

"Water Breathing. First form: Water Surface Slash." 

Giyuu had gotten behind Mizu and let his katana cut through the flesh of her neck, the head of the oiran sliding off her shoulders and her body collapsing to the ground. "Impossible!" She screeched in nothing but anger and disappointment at you. 

"You ungrateful bitch! I saved and raised you and this is how you repay the favor?! How dare youㅡ!" Tears streamed down her cheeks while you were looking at her with a drained expression. Bruises and cuts stained your skin, not to mention the stab wound in your waist which was still bleeding. Bangs hid your eyes from her view, the smell of ash was strong in your nose.

"I'm very thankful that you raised me, gave me food and a roof above my head. I will never forget that. But making humans suffer by letting them die a painful death, eating them without a shred of guilt in your guts.." The grip on the katana's handle tightened in anger, sadness and grief as you remembered your brother, mother, Tsutako. All those people who were so brave and kind and dead. "Savior, Mother, whatever you are. I absolutely won't forgive you for this!" 

"Do you think that matters?! You're nothing but a whore I raised! You, too, won't go to heaven and I'll wait for you in hell!" Before Mizu could spit any more words, her head and body dissolved into nothing, not even the ashes remained. 

Slowly, you turned around to face Giyuu, a peaceful smile lingered on your lips as you stumbled towards the one your heart had been missing for longer than you could think. Strength left your hand and the katana Giyuu had tossed you earlier fell to the ground. "Giyuu.. I'm so happy you survived.." You tripped over your own two feet, about to fall, but it was okay. 

Giyuu caught you. 

"[Name], I.." He spoke, but soon noticed that you had fallen unconscious with your cheek pressed up against his chest, eyes closed and breathing so calmly in his strong arms. Serenity was written all over your face, despite the dirt, cuts, blood and pain you went through. You were at peace with Giyuu around just like when you two were children. 

His stoic mask shattered as he pressed your unconscious body flush to his and buried a hand in your hair, his knees giving in and meeting the floor with a dull thud. "I'm so sorry I didn't find you earlier." Giyuu buried his face in your neck as he softly cried against your skin, a wave of immense relief hitting him at once. 

At least, you weren't dead like the Hashira believed for nearly 10 years. 

"I swear I'll make sure to protect you."

The sun was warm on your skin, gentle eyes focused on a blue butterfly which had entered through the open window and rested on your index finger. Its small legs tickled you ever so slightly and you struggled to hold in a giggle at the feeling. 

After having fallen unconscious for a day or two, you woke up at the Butterfly Estate where three very sweet girls awaited you coming back to reality; you learned that their names were Sumi, Kiyo and Naho. They brought you everything you needed and frequently kept you company. 

With your eyes opening once more, you also regained your memories. You remembered everything from the day you lost your parents, to the training with Urokodaki, Sabito and Giyuu, to the point you had desperately tried to reach your katana and passed out. Although a little bit of regret lingered at your soul, you couldn't find it in you to be upset with yourself. 

Life continuously knitted several paths for one to take, but it was up to several strings of fortunate and unfortunate events alike which path they'd lead one on. 

Anyone could say you were unlucky to have lost your memories and had to part ways with the ones you loved the most. But if you thought about it, you were very lucky. So very lucky that Mizu had taken you in, that she fought you and that a string of fate decided to intertwine Giyuu's and your path once more. 

The butterfly on your finger flew away as the shoji door slid open and revealed no one else but Shinobu who had watched over your physical and mental state after the confrontation with Mizu. The Insect Hashira was incredibly kind and you felt like you developed some kind of friendship with her. 

As she sat down on your bed to give you the last bit of medicine you had to swallow, you couldn't help but notice her eyes lingering on your wristband. 

"How come you like Tomioka-san?" 

You nearly choked on the pills, heat warmed up your cheeks and the tips of your ears while you stumbled over your words like a child tripped over rocks. "I-I what?! It's nothing like t-that, Shinobu!" Comically, you shook your head and threw your arms around as if that would convince the dark-haired woman. 

"Oh? But Tomioka-san has the exact same wristband and when I asked him about it, he smiled. Do you know how scary that was?"

You couldn't bite back the laugh that ripped through you at Shinobu's words. The fact that Giyuu seemed to smile so rarely that it was considered creepy when he did it, was both ridiculous and funny to you. 

On the other side of the shoji door, Giyuu wondered what could possibly make you laugh so much. He didn't ponder too much on it since this was a sound he hadn't heard in so long and was actually quite fond of. Not that the Water Hashira would ever say that out loud. 

As Giyuu stepped inside, he was immediately greeted by your warm smile and despite the bandaids on your face and bandages around your arms, he was taken aback at how pretty you were. Even after 8 years, you still made his heart feel a certain, funny way with little to no effort at all. 

"I guess I should leave the two of you alone. Although I can't deny that I'm surprised you like Tomioka-san enough to willingly be alone with him."

"I..am not disliked by people."

"That's all you have to say?" Shinobu wondered out loud and left the room, the shoji door closing behind her with a dull thud bouncing off the warmly-colored walls. 

As Giyuu sat with you on the bed, you couldn't help but notice that his facial features got much sharper over the years, his demeanor became stoic, but you were quick to figure out that Giyuu hadn't grown jaded. Those he cared about, he would show his emotions to. 

"Giyuu, Iㅡ" 

Whatever you wanted to say got blown away as you suddenly found yourself in Giyuu's arms, your chin resting in his broad shoulder while his hands grasped at your clothes as if you were to disappear if he held you any lighter. "All this time, I thought you were dead."

Wrapping your arms around the tall Hashira, you easily melted into the heartfelt hug and felt relief as well as happiness prick at your eyes. You couldn't cry now. "I'm right here, Giyuu. I told you I'd never be far, remember?" Each syllable was a bit shakier than the previous one, but it made the feelings in your heart only grow firmer and deeper. 

Affectionately, you wrapped your pinky around Giyuu's and brought the two intertwined fingers up to eye level while resting your forehead on his own. You basked in the closeness with the one you'd been aching to meet, swam in his calm aura and felt your heart skip several beats as if it had fallen.

A lump found home in Giyuu's throat and effectively cut off any word he could dream of saying. He wasn't used to anyone getting this close to him, wasn't used to someone being affectionate and gentle with him. And he certainly wasn't used to seeing your serene face after so, so long. 

But he liked it. 

"I'd never forget," Giyuu quietly confessed and felt your breath fan over his cheeks, a delicate smile tugging at his lips as the promise from your childhood was renewed. It was the first time you had seen Giyuu smile and contrary to Shinobu's words, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid your eyes on. 

Step by step, the sun began disappearing behind mountains and dipped the sky in a beautiful mix of orange, blue and pink. Soon, the stars would light up the sky and the moon would shine brightly. 

But with the sun setting, it also meant that demons were about to crawl out from whatever hole they hid themselves in. 

"Grab your sword, [Name]."

"Huh?"

Giyuu knew he was about to weave you into a life which could never be described as safe or domestic, but he never forgot that you had already decided to become a Demon Slayer when you two were children. He had seen the way you fought, backed him up and sensed a demon's blood lust. 

After all this time, you never truly forgot who you were. 

"It won't take long until the demons come out. Let's go." 

You nearly fell from your bed as you hastily reached for your sword and a bit of confusion lingered in your mind. Just what was Giyuu thinking? It was hard to tell with his face barely moving like it used to.

"I never officially passed the final selection," you sighed and looked at the sword in your grasp which was once broken, lying right in front of you. "I can't just go with you..can I?" 

Giyuu could feel doubt and insecurity seeping from you which definitely wasn't characteristic for you. When you fought Mizu, you were hell-bent on defeating her, despite the injuries you took. Was it guilt from back then making you doubt..?

"What happened 8 years ago is unfortunate, [Name]." Pitch black bangs threw a subtle shadow over Giyuu's eyes, but his voice was, dare you say, soothing. "But if you still want to fight, then I'll train you until the next final selection. Going on patrol with me is considered training."

It was okay for you to become a swordsman once again, right? Urokodaki didn't put you through hellish training and taught you everything he knew just for you to quit. With Giyuu's help, you could surely put an end to the existence of demons. Yes, you could do it! 

Confidently, you strapped your Nichirin blade to your waist, grabbed Giyuu's hand and pulled him through the hallways of the Butterfly Estate until you were finally outside. "Then what are we waiting for? Training is about to begin!" 

Faintly, Giyuu could hear Shinobu, Aoi and the three girls bid their goodbyes. His eyes fell down to your hand holding his tightly with the wristbands nearly touching one another. 

Perhaps, you were really bound by the wrist and though the red threads got heavily tangled along the way, it never got severed.

[elephart-hi]

The Mortal Maiden: Witch AU

Chapter 1: A (doomed) Mission at Hollow Hall

with a Jude wip for a larger piece, I'm doing for this fic!!!

Set during The Cruel Prince

Summary: For her whole life in Elfhame, Jude had been convinced that mortals were unable to do magic. She clearly remembers Madoc telling her that there were no witches in fairyland. She assumed he meant that they didn't exist, not that they had been hunted into extinction. During one of her missions at hallow hall, Jude received information about a spell that requires a unicorn and a witch and her whole world gets turned sideways as she discovers why they were eradicated. After another mission where Jude saves a strangers life, an ancient grimoire finds its way to her bed with a note from the stranger thanking her for saving them and warning her to only read the spellbook but not to practice the magic within, lest she wishes to be burned by the folk. Jude heeded the warning as if Oriana had given it to her herself, that is she completely ignored it and did what she shouldn't. Tensions are high as the coronation swiftly approaches and Jude finds herself more deeply entwined with the web of lies that ties the Greenbriar line together than ever before. With nothing but her wits and her secret sender to aid her magical studies, Jude can only hope to make it out unscathed.

Rating: Mature but not explicitly till later chapters!

Ao3 chapter 2

AN: This is set during the cruel prince. I absolutely love the different character development of the characters from book to book. Specifically, Jude in book one being like I have no clue how to be a spy I’m going to fucking die and it’s my fault for making a deal with Dain! curse me, god! Always made me laugh. So playing with that and with Cardan’s talking door. I like to think the door can move around hollow hall so that is a headcanon in here. We were robbed of spy jude content and all it’s potential so here. we get to the witches later I promise

Jude Duerte had, on numerous occasions now, cursed herself for thinking she could ever be a spy in fairyland. For starters, she was a seventeen-year-old mortal up against fairies a hundred years her senior. Her mortality happened to be the very reason she couldn’t use magic, which brings us to the second reason being a spy was a foolish, foolish thing for her to be: she was at a monumental disadvantage to everyone else in fairyland because they were magical assholes by nature.

As she raced through the crowded party at Hollow Hall, ducking between dancers and enslaved mortals caring trays of fairie wine, trying to avoid the guards who caught her stealing, Jude realized that being mortal had another disadvantage since it probably made her incredibly disposable to Dain, the prince she served under and who she was, for all intents and purposes, enslaved to thanks to the geas she struck with him. Her death would be of little consequence to the prince.

She reached her hand out and grabbed the ostentatiously carved banister to her right, using it to swing her momentum in a direction where the guards wouldn't have her surrounded. She barrelled into a stairwell hidden from the view of the ball as people started shouting. Jude had at least remembered something she’d learned from her short time training in the spy’s keep: always find multiple exit routes. She had scouted out the stairwell before her mission had gone sideways as she mingled amongst the folk.

She raced up the stairs nearly tripping on her gown as she began her climb, heart racing so fast she thought it would burst out of her corset. Her geas with Dain would protect her from fairy enchantments but it wouldn't protect her from being impaled by a sword or spear. Regardless of how skilled she was with a blade herself, ten immortal guards against one human did not seem like good odds.

As Jude continued her ascent she realized that her exit route was less of an exit and more of a path further into the manor. The roach would have her neck for her idiocy… If she lived to ever see him again. She should have gone for the servant’s quarters instead, she thought with a groan. From there she already knew her way out of the manor. She didn’t think she would have guards chasing her on her way out so she had, rather foolishly, assumed she would be able to explore more of the massive grounds and figure out the layout better for the next time Dain sent her here to spy on his elder brother: Prince Belkin. Now Jude just hoped she would live to see another night, much less another mission.

As she continued her ascent up the round cobblestone stairwell, the noise of the party became lost to her and she couldn’t hear the guards in pursuit anymore. Perhaps her quick exit had been in her benefit after all. If she had gone for the servant’s quarters they surely would have seen her use it and would have gone after her. Each turn up the stairs, she passed a candle in an alcove, lighting the cobblestone steps beneath her. She paused to rest on a dark step outside the reach of the candle’s glow, lest someone use the stairs and see her hunched over in its flickering light catching her breath.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note she not so subtly nipped from her target. Right as she had grabbed the note out of his pocket, a fairy with copious amounts of cologne passed her and made her sneeze. The messenger in front of her immediately spun around but before he could get a word out Jude had him in a chokehold; his cries for help dying in his throat. She had thought herself so clever until the goblet in his hand clattered to the floor, gaining the attention of a nearby guard. Then she had felt like an idiot, as the guard called for reinforcements.

The manor would be crawling with them now, but they would all be looking for a fairy with horns, yellow eyes, and pointed ears. Jude had gotten the costume from a gothic store in the mall of the mortal lands and tonight it proved to be useful. She chuckled to herself as she pulled the horns from her hair and removed the fake ears and colored contact lenses. She tucked them all into a large pocket of her skirt, making sure to put her contacts into their case. Once her breath had settled and she looked nothing more than a mortal servant again, Jude continued her ascent up the stairs, hoping that she wouldn't gain any more unnecessary attention until she was a long way from the manor and back in the safety of the spy’s keep.

Once she reached the door atop the stairs, Jude leaned her ear against the wood, listening for any potential passersby in the hall. She nearly pissed herself and fell back down the flight of stairs when a doorknocker, which certainly hadn’t been on the door when she leaned against it, blinked and spoke to her.

“Looking for trouble or hiding from it, my dear”

Jude didn’t have a clue what to say. What does one even say to a doorknocker? No matter how long she has lived in fairyland, the world and its strange magic always managed to perplex her. So she just stared at the metal face that was now molded into the door completely dumbfounded.

“You’re being rude.”

Jude shook herself from her stupor, and raised her chin, “Neither. What would make you think I was in any kind of trouble?”

“Probably something to do with you pressing your ear to the door to see if the coast was clear,” the doorknocker said with a stern face.

Jude pressed her lips together. Once again cursing herself for thinking she could be a spy. It was obvious that she wasn’t the encorcelled servant she was posing to be. She internally groaned; the stars were certainly against her tonight. If she said she was hiding from trouble she would be admitting to some extent of guiltiness; with that thought a scheme started taking form in her mind.

“Looking for it,” she said decidedly, mustering up a smirk that she didn’t feel, “do you know where I could find any?”

The door squinted at her, judging the truth of her words as he eyed her round ears, “try the second to the last door on the right,” he said, swinging open for her with a returning smirk on his metal face that made Jude uneasy.

“Perfect,” she replied mustering more false bravo into her voice, “and afterward when I need to hide from the trouble I find what direction would you point me in?”

The door beamed at her then, a grin stretching the brass of its face.

“Down the hall past that door there will be a stairwell hidden behind a tapestry depicting a pixie orgy. Take the stairs to the bottom and you will find yourself at the stables,” the door still smirked at her, as if he knew what she had been planning all along.

Jude curtsied at him and went on her way, planning on foregoing the ‘looking for trouble’ bit but, to her surprise, the doorknocker’s face appeared on the backside of the door when it closed behind her. Jude was certain now that the doorknocker hadn’t been there when she arrived. It must be enchanted to move as it pleased. Now he watched every step she took. Jude would have thought it a very clever way of safeguarding one’s manor if the door was not a huge liability for her now.

As she proceeded down the carpeted hall, the doorknocker’s face magicked from one door to the next, smirking at her as she made her way past ancient doors, scenic art of battles and kings long past, and tapestries woven by the hands of skilled sprites. Every inch of the hall radiated extravagance, much like the two fairy princes who lived here.

She had no option but to go ‘looking for trouble’ now, Jude realized with irritation, not if she wanted the door to keep quiet about her lurkings. However, Jude hardly needed to look for trouble, she could hear the cries of guards searching the manor for a thief. She had already found enough of it today as is.

When she reached the second to the last door on the right, the one the doorknocker had instructed her to find, she realized that she recognized it from her last mission at Hollow Hall. Her stomach felt squeamish at the memories it brought up. Of Belkin and the belt. Of the owner of this room kneeling on the floor taking the beating.

The annoying doorknocker appeared on the wooden door, right in front of her face, his eyes squinting at her.

“Just what kind of trouble will I be getting into?” she asked, “is Cardan inside?”

Jude dreaded the answer. The door probably brought her here to turn her into him. She had the sinking feeling that she was a dead man walking. She could only imagine what Cardan would do to her when he caught her, mind drifting to the note with her name furiously scrawled onto it over and over again. A chill ran down her spine.

“I was assuming you were looking for the fun kind of trouble, Jude,” the door replied, his brass eyes glinting in mischief as he said her name as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking of. She wondered if he had watched her steal the book from Cardan’s room. She wondered how he knew her name. The torches of the corridor cast a golden gleam on the metalworking of his brass face, the craftsmanship reminded her of her father’s blades and metalworking. Her chest squeezed at the memories of her late father, but not before she shuddered at whatever the door considered being ‘fun’.

“How did you know it was my young prince’s chambers?” the door asked dubiously, suspicion laced his voice. Perhaps he hadn’t witnessed her previous mission after all.

Jude ignored his question since he ignored one of hers, “how did you know my name?” she snarked back.

The doorknocker averted his eyes, clearly not wanting to answer. She smirked and continued.

“What would you do if I were to bolt?”

“Then my prince would hear of your suspicious whereabouts,” he replied, a smirk returning to his metal face. Jude wasn't sure which prince he referred to, Belkin or Cardan. She knew one was worse than the other. Cardan was only nineteen with no true courtly power since he was still in school. Belkin on the other hand was the eldest prince to the High King, was centuries old, and was in no shortage of power.

Jude realized, as the sound of the guards searching the manor grew closer, that she had no options that were beneficial to her. She did, however, have one option that was far better than the other. The guards in question would be in the hall at any second by the sound of it. She could either bolt now, get captured by them, and have the doorknocker spill her secrets... or she could face whatever was on the other side of this door.

For all that she knew Cardan could still be at the revel a few floors down. Drunk on wine and merriment like he always was and balls deep in a pretty sprite.

The door swung open in front of her, leaving her no chance to rethink her decision as she stepped inside the threshold of the chamber, closing the door behind her. On the other side, she could hear the guards storming into the hall where she had just been standing.

“My prince,” the doorknocker called out, his face now on the backside of the door, peering inside the room, “your mortal maiden has come calling for you.”

Jude’s heart plummeted to her stomach. She couldn’t believe she had hoped that Cardan would still be enjoying the festivities downstairs. Ugh! Of course, the knocker would’ve known he was inside. He could magic from room to room after all. It seemed that the stars truly were against her that night.

She smashed her eyes shut in fear of what was to come next but all she was met with grumbling coming from the beautiful four-poster bed.

Jude peeked her eyes open and saw that Cardan hadn’t even bothered looking up to acknowledge the door. He laid on his bed sprawled out on his side, head hunched over with his nose shoved into a book, his black hair hanging in his eyes. He had one of his black nails caught between his teeth as his eyes darted across the page. He looked so... disarming like this. Nothing like the wicked boy she had come to know at school.

He probably hadn’t the slightest clue about the chaos Jude had caused downstairs, as he sat there completely wrapped up in his own world. From the way he was positioned, Jude guessed he was getting to an interesting part of his book. From behind him, Jude spotted his tail darted in and out of sight, swatting from side to side. It was almost humorous watching his tail change its pace as his eyes flew across the page; the tail speeding up and slowing down depending on what he read before him. This was a wholly unique side to Cardan she had never seen before, not at school, nor the palace revels, nor during her spy missions. So this was the person Cardan was when he was all alone?

The Cruel Prince of Elfhame was… a bookworm?

The door grumbled beside her loudly, clearing his throat, while a small incredulous smile tugged the corners of Jude’s lips.

“In a minute,” Cardan drawled slowly, as though speaking through honey, like his words had to travel all the way back from whatever far off land the book had charted him off to.

“My prince,” the doorknocker urged.

“I’m in the middle of a very important scene, my door, I don’t care for your taunts right now,” Cardan grumbled to the doorknocker, putting the same amount of emphasis on ‘my door’ as the door had on ‘my prince’. They were obviously very familiar with each other from how they spoke. “And she’s not ‘my’ anything!”

The knocker barked out a laugh followed by a wink towards Jude and with that, he vanished. Leaving her alone with Cardan. She turned to the door and tried the handle but it held firm, refusing to turn. She heard the sound of the doorknocker chuckling from the other side of the door; standing guard and locking her inside to face whatever punishment Cardan deemed fit for her. She dreaded what was to come but... he had yet to even notice her there.

Cardan reached over to the bedside table with the hand he had held hostage between his full lips and grabbed a goblet of wine from a tray of cheese, faerie fruit, and crackers. From what she could see before her, Jude decided that Cardan had the makings for a wonderful night of relaxation. The sight made something stir within her, perhaps she did want to look for trouble. How privileged of him to be able to sit here with such comforts while Jude had to enslave herself in a geas and become a spy just to get a scrap of power. He had everything she did not.

Jude realized that there would be no better trouble to find than a chance to ruin Cardan’s perfect night. And just as he was getting to the good part of his book she thought with bitter humor. Boohoo! The poor little prince! She rolled her eyes as resentment swelled within her. Resentment and rancorous jealousy. If the stars wanted her in trouble tonight then who was she to work against them.

She looked him over; his hair the color of raven feathers looked as if he had raked his hands through it a few times, probably in distress for whatever was happening in his book. How lucky he was that he only had to worry about his book and--

--and Balekin's wrath.

All schemes of trouble froze at the sickening memory of the wet sound of Cardan’s blood meeting the leather belt. The memory was a cooling draught to the burning resentment that boiled within her. Perhaps his books were a means of escape from the abuse he endured…

But none of that excused the bullshit he put her through at school! Jude was made to feel small every day since she was stolen away from the mortal world, but you don’t see her taking it out on every person she met.

And just like that, her resentment began to simmer anew. Although less powerful.

She continued to look him over, contemplating just how to ruin his night of relaxation. No adornments graced his ears for once, nor rings on his fingers. Cardan wore a plain sleep shirt whose strings were loose, leaving much of his lean chest exposed; she could see bits of his scars peeking over his shoulders.

Jude thought again about how strange it was seeing him like this. He was still heartbreakingly as handsome as usual except now, with the lack of finery and makeup, Jude almost found him more lovely. All the extravagance that he draped himself in distracted from how naturally breathtaking he was on his own. Now with nothing to distract from his unearthly beauty, Jude found herself almost speechless at the sight of him. It made her furious. How could someone so lovely on the outside be so hideous within?

Jude shook the annoying thoughts from her head and tried the door once more. Locked. Damn it.

Seeing no other option, Jude cleared her throat and spoke at last.

“I supposed I could come back another time then, your majesty,” she sunk into a curtsy to hide her grin when she heard him choke on his wine, realizing that he wasn't alone in his room.

“I would hate to interrupt... especially if you’re ‘in the middle of a very important scene’,” she phrased the last bit like a question, implying its inherent rudeness to dismiss someone over something as trivial as a good book. Although if Jude were to be honest with herself, she wouldn't mind that being a reasonable excuse to dismiss someone.

She looked up and barely choke down the laugh that tried to bubble out of her throat at the sight before her. Of a flabbergasted Cardan with wine now staining the front of his sleep shirt and his black eyes ringed with gold bugging out of his head at the sight of her. He may be beautiful but he looked ridiculous at that moment.

“Now how does your door know my name and why did he refer to me as your maiden?”

chapter 2

[icollectyoursins]

Demon!Jotaro x reader x Demon!Rohan

Anon asked “!!! It's monster fucker hours bay-beeeee!! May I perhaps request a Spicy Demon Rohan and Jotaro double team?? Pretty please with a cherry on top???”

Yeah I... I honestly don't know what happened in this one. Uh... Breeding but... Kinda weird? I dunno, demons are strange and I was a little tipsy when I wrote this! Readers' pronouns are they/them, but they have a vagina.

You were walking home, just minding your business when two men (one who was an overly flirtatious asshole and the other was... just an asshole) approached you, asking if you were interested in a little fun for a small price. You haven't discussed the price yet, but who cares, honestly. They're hot and you're horny.

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Ass eating, tied up, breeding, aphrodisiacs? A liquid that enhances the feeling, anal, double penetration, sloppy seconds, light self-degradation at the end from Rohan. What can I say? He's a freak.

Word Count: 1641

Teasing Euphoria

    The tall, cold man you had met on the road (who you learned was named Jotaro) sat in the hotel room chair, one leg crossed over the other with his cheek resting on his hand. The other man you had met (Rohan) was behind you, currently eating your ass out with fervor. You moaned at the thick tongue slipping into your plucker, pushing back into him. He pulled away, choosing to smack your ass before walking over to Jotaro and placing kiss on his cheek.

   Jotaro closed his eyes, hiding hid disgust then opened them again as the other one whispered something in his ear, grinning wildly. His eyes landed directly on you. The stare was intense, though not demeaning like Rohan's. Bright blue eyes drifted over your body, drinking you in. You were tied down with a ball gag in your mouth, silently pleading with him to do something. While sex had never been his strong suit, there was something about you that he couldn't deny.

    He walked over to you while Rohan closed the blinds, making sure everything was protected from the view of other people. It wasn't that they minded an audience, they just weren't quite so sure people would accept their true forms. The smaller one was the first to let go of his glamour, running his hands delicately through his hair as small, deep green horns started to protrude from his forehead. His eyes misted over to a stark white and the rest of his body seemed to shift until he was tinted green, shoulders, cheeks and elbows being darker than the rest of his body.

    As Jotaro approached you, he did the same, dropping his clothes with the mirage. His body wasn't the same colour and his horns were long, but he was no less stunning. Black shoulders freckled into pale skin. His eyes matched, but there was something about them that left you hypnotized by them. A long, clawed finger traced a wet stain from where you had cried after what felt like hours of teasing and denial from Rohan.

    "We will allow you to cum and please us," he said, voice ruling through your nervous system.

    "If they can handle us," Rohan chimed in, strutting over to his place at your backside. Jotaro shot him a look, then continued.

    "There is one request we ask of you. You will be let go if you say no, but you need to say so now. I doubt we'll be able to stop once we get started." The green one kneaded his talons into your ass, spreading your cheeks before letting go, smacking you again. You looked to Jotaro, giving him your best 'please fuck me' face you could muster. He continued, carefully watching your reaction. "Let us breed you." He grabbed your cheeks, pulling you close to his face. "Let us fill you with our spawn, birth it, be the start of a new generation. This is your only chance to say no, there's no turning back after this."

    You moaned as his grip travelled to your neck, squeezing it lightly. You nodded. Yes, you'll do anything, just fuck your ass, fill you. Jotaro neglected to tell you that it wouldn't matter where they came in you, it would travel to your womb or the equivalent of, assuring your pregnancy regardless. Though, cumming directly into your womb would be preferable. If you didn't have the assets, they would make do. He nodded to his partner who eagerly stuck his fingers in your ass, spreading you open.

    Your eyes shot open widely at the feeling, dexterous fingers scissoring you. Meanwhile, the view in front of you was getting more interesting by the second. Jotaro grabbed his length, slowly jerking himself off to the sight of you. He was going to be the first to cum in you whether Rohan liked it or not. He knew that the other demon could be greedy, but there was nothing that could stop him from filling you up over and over again.

    You keened as a third finger was added, then a fourth. A warm, tingling liquid was dripped onto your hole that made the sensation much more intense. Soon, you were reduced to a mess of drool and muffled words as Rohan gradually began fisting you. You were going to need all the help you could get when Jotaro fucked you and he was feeling generous. You were going to be the start of a new breed, after all.

    You were so close to your release already, mind fogged with wanton. With a clever twist of his fist, you were sent over the edge, cumming wildly onto the floor. The one behind you chuckled while the other grabbed a bottle. He removed your ball gag, lifting your chin up. Your half-lidded eyes and open mouth begged him to touch you more.

    He caved, taking a small sip from the bottle then kissing you, making you swallow what was in his mouth. The liquid was so sweet, like your favourite candy. Then came something you can only describe as fuck-me brain rot. Every small touch on your body was like fire or electricity, sending signals straight to your brain that just demanded a thorough fucking.

    Jotaro swapped places with Rohan, linking himself up with your entrance, sliding his tip between your gaping hole. He slowly pushed in, pressing down on your back to keep you still. You swear, it was the best feeling ever, letting out a loud scream/moan. He stopped, checking on your breathing. Rohan laughed cruelly.

    "He's not done yet." You looked up at him in shock. "You still have so much more to go, take some deep breaths. If you can." He added, shoving his cock into your lips. Jotaro began to push again, in sync with Rohan who slid deeper into your mouth. The two stopped again as the one in front of you tangled his hand into your hair. "Halfway there."

    Halfway? What?! How was there more. You already felt as though your bowels were full, stretched to their limit in every direction. They started again and Rohan began thrusting into your throat when he ran out of length. Jotaro kept going, the state of euphoria kept high by whatever liquid they gave you. You looked up to the green one eagerly taking as much of his cock as you could, creating a vacuum with your tongue and lips. His head tossed back, letting out a moan. He mumbled something about you being good at this or built for it, you weren't quite sure. Finally, the darker one bottomed out as your eyes rolled back in your head. A large, warm arm wrapped around you as two smaller one undid the ropes holding you down.

   You were lifted up with ease allowing the cock inside of you to rub up against your walls tantalizingly while another was shifted below you. Rohan grabbed your thighs, acing them on either side of his body, straddling his body which was now lying beneath you. Without wasting another minute, he lined himself up with your wet entrance, slipping between your folds with ease and up into your tight canal. The three of you groaned as the two cocks bumped against each other, rubbing together. If it hadn't been for the liquid, you'd be in pain right now, but all you could feel was bliss.

    Jotaro moved first, slowly gyrating his hits into you with shallow movements. It quickly became apparent that you wouldn't last long like this, your second orgasm quickly approaching. Rohan lifted a clawed thumb to your lip, pushing down so he could slip it in. You barely heard his order to suck. Even if he hadn't said anything, you're fairly sure you would have anyway. You were so desperate for him, for them; for anything.

    Soon, the other started moving, timing his thrusts with Jotaro's which only made you scream more. A second orgasm wracked through you, though you were too blissed out to care, too caught up in the feeling of two delightful cocks pumping in and out of you. The one behind you began to groan more loudly, thrusts getting a little less structured. He shot a look to Rohan who, much to your dismay, pulled out. It wasn't long before it was full again but with Jotaro this time.

    He pushed you over into the other's arms, picking up the pace on your not so stretched out pussy. Your tongue rolled out your mouth, eyes rolling back once again as he hit every sweet spot inside of you. His groans and breathing became louder as he got closer until finally-

    "Fuuuuuck," he growled you, burying himself deep inside you. Your pussy milked his cock, seemingly sucking in every drop of his hot seed. He was still hard when he pulled out. He could get used to this. In a brief moment of cruelty, he slipped himself into your ass again, leaving Rohan to do his own work on your poor cunt. The latter quickly filled you again, setting a quick and brutal pace for himself. His claws dug into your back as he moaned in you ear. Jotaro matched the pace, knowing that even if you did feel it, you'd love it too much to say anything.

    Soon enough, the two were cumming again in their respective holes. Rohan felt some kind of sick pleasure at feeling your cunt loosely spasm around him in an attempt to find your own release, but you were too stretched out from Jotaro that you could find no purchase. As degrading as it was to know his cock was too small to get you off, he loved it.

    You flopped over to bed, clearly out of it. One of them brought the drink to your lips again, this time taking their places beside you, too lazy to move your limbs at this point.

    "Oh, darling. We're only getting started."

    "We're not letting you go until you're leaving a trail behind you or we decide to take you back with us." You couldn't tell who said what, but you didn't care. Call it fate or destiny, but there was something about being a cock sleeve for demons that had you more turned on than anything else in this encounter.

[ostewell]

hermit items

or, to be more specific, items i associate with the hermits

i plan to draw soon, but ive been kinda swamped by school and a big ol’ project lol

edit: jsut did a proofreading now that its the morning and i can like,,, properly read gjshgkjsdhf

i dont think much changed when it comes to readability, but there is a minor amount of clarification owo

under the cut bc hng long lol

wels:

wels's helmet's plume; (wels's plume is still a ponytail in my design im just makin it a true plume for this) the red, flowy part is made from dyed horsehair. the gold-plated ring is wide, too wide to be a true ring, but too small to be a bracelet 

the pommel of a sword, it's made from iron, with a blue sapphire embedded inside it. the iron has various engravements, fitting those on his helmet. (i can pull up my wels design again if needed lol) it screws into the handle on a roughly centimeter long threaded rod that's been soldered onto the bottom of it

etho:

etho's headband; has shifting engravements, when the engravements shift, they dont dissapear and reappear, the points that make them up just "move," sort of like in stickbug videos where the lines move lol, it displays the expression of the person it is touching, and when it is not in contact with anyone the points move around idly, not making up any particular shape 

a pair of diamond boots. nothing particularly interesting about them. 

joe:

a pair of navy blue glasses, shaped like the ones he wears irl. near the hinges on the things i learned are called "temples," there are small @ symbols. otherwise, just a standard pair of glasses 

an iron pick, enchanted. it's been repaired before. at the end of its handle, at the opposite side from the head, there is a small diamond with a cross going through it engraved in the wood. it looks like it was difficult to do. 

a piece of lime green stained glass. its definitely new, and its definitely going to be placed. at some point. by accident. it has fingerprint smudges, and is more opaque and vibrantly colored than regular stained glass (thanks to one of my irl friends for the idea of this one gjsdhgkj)

mumbo:

his red tie; tied. it seems to have the sort of wear as a tie that's just loosened and removed, rather than repeatedly tied. there are redstone stains on the knot and along the middle section, with a distinct line where his blazer usually covers, along with an oddly shaped diagonal stain, that slightly feathers the right side of the distinct separation.

a block of redstone, accompanied by a small knife.  a fourth of the block has been whittled away (presumably by the knife), but is otherwise normal. the knife is about the length of a hand. its handle is a deep maroon. whether this is from redstone staining or if it was made that way, you can't tell. there's a pair of sharpening stones attached to it by a piece of definitely redstone-stained-red string 

(a small addendum: anything that's been stained red lightly glows when near powered redstone owo)

doc:

his red eye. now that you can see the full thing, it goes deeper than you'd expect, at least a couple inches into the metallic half of his face. there are wires leaving the end of it, its not the sort of thing that you can just pop back in and it'll work fine. the lens, which is clear, protects an assortment of LED lights, that can change their brightness at doc's will to depict images. the lighter metal frame, looks like aluminum, seems to be mostly aesthetic, though it does connect to his ear. its hard to tell what its function is, but doc seems quite insistent on having it back, so you’d rather not mess with it more.

a chunk of quartz, carved into the shape of a goat horn. doesn't seem to serve any other purpose, just a totem of the goat mother lol

ren:

his signature sunglasses. on the hinges of the lens frames themselves, there is a cyberdogs logo (red gear with a large center and says "CD," also red, on the inside) 

a piece of beef, not the hermit. there are mycelia (as in mushroom roots, not the block) running through it. you're not sure of its edibility, but considering its label, which says "Pamela - RIP" you think worse things would happen to you than being sick if you ate it. 

beef: 

a butcher's apron, bloodstained. you arent sure of the blood's origins; you assume it's animal, but considering the look he gave you when you asked about it, you don't want to know. otherwise, it seems standard. there's a pocket on the front. 

a tuft of llama fur. it's cream-colored. nothin special, just some wool lol

scar: 

a cat's collar. it's purple, with the non-fabric bits being gold (not gold plated or pure gold, just gold colored). the tag says "jellie" 

a diamond shovel. if you can call it that. it's more of a trowel than a shovel. it doesn't have any dirt stains, but it does have "vote for scar" written on the dark-oak wood handle in incredibly hard to read black text. 

tango: 

a ravager horn, just a standard trophy from what was likely a difficult- or first- kill 

a stick of dynamite. you're not sure if its explosive or not, it seems like its gotten wet, but you'd rather not test 

cleo: 

the armor stand book, with some additions. there are extra notes added; the "check target" button has been circled about 30 times in about 30 different colors. the ink from that has telegraphed through the page. there are little drawings of all the poses in the "preset" menu, direction notes, and more you can't make out. you're sure she doesnt need these notes anymore. except the circling on the check target button. 

im not sure what to give cleo as a second item lol 

false: 

a pair of pilot's goggles. the lenses are blue, and framed with polished iron. there are little cushions, which are made from black rubber. the lenses connect from either side via a brown leather strap. 

the hilt of a broadsword. it's made from brass, and the grip is wrapped with a similarly colored leather to the one that's the strap of her goggles. the strips are woven like a basket. the pommel features a blue sapphire, a darker blue than the one on wels's pommel. the guard is that of a basket hilt.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Imagine a still-angry Bree went to Craig na dun straight after Claire told her everything, to check out her mother's story, fell through the stones by mistake and met Jamie first.

The High Road and the Low Road - Part One

Brianna needed to get out of the house and just… away. She couldn’t stand to look at her mother just then and when she’d turned to Roger she’d been disappointed by what she found there. She’d thought they understood one another, thought he’d be on her side – the reasonable side.

But there had been something in his face as he looked at Claire Randall. If not outright belief in the ridiculous story she’d concocted to cover up an affair, then he’d at least been looking at her mother like he wanted to believe her. 

And that was the last thing Brianna wanted right then. 

It was Roger’s car. She’d seen him drop the keys in a bowl on the counter when they’d arrived. She looked at the gauge and saw there was a little less than half a tank left. She’d be good for a while. Not that she knew where she was going to go. It just had to be away – and preferably somewhere she could scream where no one would call the police. 

Taking Roger’s car would slow them down if they tried to follow her.

Not if. When. 

She didn’t mean to make it easy for them to find her. 

As soon as she reached the main road, she headed in a direction that would take her away from town and began repeating aloud, “Left side of the road, left side of the road.”

The need to focus on fighting her American instincts and keep from drifting to the other lane actually helped her to calm down. A little. 

She slammed on the brakes when she saw the sign, wincing when a horn blared behind her and another car flew past. 

But then she was along and the rage returned. Craigh na dun. It was absurd that anyone could believe what her mother had said. It was absurd that the very thought of seeing the place was twisting her stomach into knots. 

Gritting her teeth, Brianna put the car back in gear and sped in the direction of the signs. She would see these stones for herself if only to quell that feeling in her stomach, to be able to return to her mother and Roger and give them another telling off. 

It was falling dark as Brianna reached the bottom of the hill and she could just make out the moon peeking between the low tree branches and the standing stones. The bravado of the drive shrank at the eerie sight. 

But there was a stubborn streak that kept her feet moving toward the stones. 

Her ears began to ring and her head to spin as she reached the center of the circle and touched the largest stone.

Pain. In her hand and arm and head. The buzzing in her ears became a scream and it was only as she felt her throat ache she realized she was the one who was screaming.

Her last thought before passing out was that her mother’s description of it all had fallen woefully short. 

*********************************************

She wanted to throw up from fear as much as the nausea in her belly and the ringing headache that threatened to send her back under as soon as she tried to sit up. 

Brianna scrambled backward, away from the stone, to the edge of the circle. The moon still shone in the sky and the stars seemed brighter too. 

A few deep breaths helped to steady her enough to get to her feet. She brushed away grass and dirt that clung to the corduroy of her skirt. 

Turning on her heel, she carefully made her way down the side of the hill in the direction where she’d left the car. With every step she scolded herself for being ridiculous and gullible enough to have let her mother’s tales affect her in such a way. With every step the buzzing and nausea faded and it was easier to tell herself that she had imagined the whole thing. 

She’d taken too many steps. She should have reached Roger’s car by now or at least the solidity of the paved road. 

Brianna turned around, peering into the darkness. Maybe she’d gotten herself turned around and had come down the wrong side of the hill. Making a quarter turn and referencing the gentle incline of the hill, she did her best to circle the hilltop. 

It only made her feel more lost. She would have to wait until it grew lighter to complete her investigation of the hillside. In the meantime, she was getting cold and any chance of a blanket or additional protection from the elements was in the impossible-to-locate-in-the-dark car. (Why did Roger have to own a brown car? Why couldn’t it have been white and reflective?)

She couldn’t just lie down in the open. Looking around, she saw a faint light in the distance and made her way toward it. It didn’t appear to be moving, so not a car. It was dim, muted, so maybe a house with its curtains closed. But she didn’t think there were any houses this close to Craigh na Dun. She hadn’t noticed any as she passed to get there, anyway, but she was hardly an expert on the area and who lived there or where. She just needed someone who could loan her a flashlight or who had a telephone she could use (worrying her mother and Roger a little was one thing but she couldn’t let them go the whole night wondering where she’d gone). 

Drawing nearer, Brianna was confused. It wasn’t a house – it would barely qualify as a shack. There was no door – well, no door left but old fashioned hinges clung to the frame to show there had been a door at one time. The roof appeared to have partially caved in but on the opposite side from where a short chimney stuck out with a faint trail of smoke rising from it. 

Someone must be inside if a fire was lit but was it safe to casually announce her presence?

“Hello?” she called softly, approaching slowly now. “Anybody home? I uh… I’ve gotten myself a bit lost and can’t find the car in the dark – accidentally locked my flash – my torch inside. Do you have one you might… let me… borrow?”

There had been no sound, no sign of movement as she reached the door and decided to poke her head inside.

A low fire burned in a hearth that looked like it might collapse in on itself at any moment. 

A figure was curled on its side on the dirt floor in front of the hearth. It was a boy – probably only a few years younger than herself. Maybe this was some play fort or campsite for him. 

Brianna inched closer to the sleeping boy. “Hey… you,” she hissed but he didn’t stir. She gently nudged him with the toe of her boot. 

Startled awake and confused, the boy rolled toward her with a threatening cry and a dagger in his hand, apparently ready to stab her. 

“Whoa!” Brianna exclaimed, jumping back. “I don’t want trouble,” she promised. “Just looking for a little help is all.”

The boy calmed and relaxed as he woke further and realized he wasn’t actually being attacked. 

“Ye scared the piss right out of me,” he told her, returning the dagger to a safe and concealed place in his belt.

“Who are you?” Brianna asked, stepping forward as the boy got to his feet. 

“Ian Murray, ma’am,” he said, smiling and inclining his head toward her. “And what should I call you?”

“Brianna, but you can call me Bree.”

*********************************************

Claire hadn’t gone to bed and so Roger hadn’t either (though, he had dozed off and on in his chair by the fire). She spend most of the night staring out the window, watching for any sign of Brianna’s return. 

Around five, the light finally beginning to show signs of returning, Roger rose from the chair and stretched, back cracking as he yawned. He went to the kitchen to make tea and toast, returning with a simple tray to try and get Claire to eat something. 

“She couldna have gotten far on thwart was left in that tank,” he explained. Brianna didn’t know how quickly the needle could drop from half a tank to empty. “It’s likely she ran out of petrol, pulled over and spent the night in the back. She’ll have to walk a ways to a phone or wait till someone comes along as can give her a ride.” He offered Claire a steaming cup. 

She took it, forcing a smile and nod of thanks before blowing on it but neglecting to take a sip. 

“I want to believe you, Roger, but I’m afraid Bree is very much her father’s daughter… both of them. That display of temper was all Jamie… the running away afterward…”

“That ye think she learned from Frank?” Roger suggested. 

With a sigh and another nod, Claire admitted, “Unfortunately, yes. And the last time we had a fight and he stormed off into the night, he was killed in a car accident.”

Roger felt his own teacup tremble in his hands at the thought. He set it down carefully as he apologized to Claire. “Christ, I hadna thought – I’m so sorry. If I’d realized – I should ha’ called someone to help and we could ha’ been searching for her through the night.”

Claire shook her head. “No, I’m sure she’s fine, like you said. Going after her might have only made matters worse anyhow. Frasers need to wear out their tempers a bit before you stand a chance of getting through to them.” At last she lifted her cup and took a sip of tea, closing her eyes as she swallowed and visibly willed herself to relax. 

“Well, if she doesna return by lunch and hasna phoned, I’ll see if I can borrow Fiona’s car and you and I can look for her,” Roger promised. “Like I said, she couldna ha’ gone too far.”

As Claire smiled her thanks again, the telephone rang. Claire moved to get it before recalling it wasn’t her house and deferring to Roger. 

He moved quickly and, expecting to hear Brianna on the other end, he answered, “Speak of the devil.”

“Roger?” Fiona’s voice replied. 

Roger covered the receiver long enough to whisper to Claire, “Wrong devil.” 

“Aye, I’m here,” he said louder to Fiona. “Sorry, it’s just… early.” 

“Aye, tis and I wouldna have called so early – I’m a bit relieved ye answered at all. I was afraid… but ye’re there.”

“Aye, why would a not be?”

“Oh… well… Ye mayna ken but – ye see, my gran was part of a… a group. They’re… caretakers, ye might say. And since she passed, I took her place in the group.”

“Caretakers of what?”

“The standing circle at Craigh na Dun,” Fiona explained. 

Roger felt himself growing colder, thought he must be paler from the step Claire took towards him. 

“We take it in turns to visit them and see any rubbish is cleared up, that they’ve no been defaced and the like,” Fiona went on at a nervous clip. 

Everything around Roger seemed to be slowing, narrowing to a point as his gaze fixed on Claire. 

“Anyhow, I had a call this morning from… another member of the group. They said yer car had been found abandoned near the stones. I worried something might have happened to ye, but–”

“Brianna,” Roger managed to murmur. 

“Brianna Randall?” Fiona asked. 

“Brianna borrowed my car last night,” he explained. “She didna come home.”

“Roger, what’s happened?” Claire asked, forcefully.

[inforapound]

With Our Eyes Shut - Epilogue

A/N - Hey friends, had a couple of requests on wattpad for a final chapter of this. Thought I would post it here too. Hope everyone is well.   Ch.5 here. 

Pairing - Sigefrid and Genevieve  

Warnings - Sigefrid’s sweet love making:)

A month had passed since that horrid night.

Returning to Beamfleot the following day, everything had changed; all sense of master and slave had evaporated. Gone was the unfamiliarity and formality between them, instead, there was some formless bond that kept them tied. If Sigefrid was within the city walls, they were together, often seated side by side and if not, never apart for long. All meals were shared in the dining room in front of his men; men who would no longer dare cast her a second glance. She was his lady now and Erik had made certain that every person knew the price Haesten had paid.

At the order of Sigefrid, a slave had collected Genevieve's few things and moved her over into his chamber along with her kitten, back from the woman who had been watching it. Naturally, her duties, other than the ones she insisted on keeping, had been relieved and they shared his room as well as his bed every night since that dreadful trip.

And still..... no words had been spoken about what had grown between them. Neither of them had ever mentioned Haesten or the feelings they displayed that night back in the tent, after horns and horns of ale. No physical desires had been shared or acted upon and for the second time since meeting, he knew he had drawn an invisible line that he felt he could not cross. Within him, barely under the surface, was a ferocious need to protect her. She, again, was his wounded doe and he would not push his urges upon her. The thought of her conceding simply because of her reliance and his position of power made him feel ill. Never again, would she be put in that place.

And still.... he fucking ached for her. Longed for her. Waited each day for night to come, impatient for them to retreat to his chamber. He craved those candle-lit evenings, those moments with her alone in bed, lying side by side under the covers.

Regardless of how they fell asleep, they would wake in a tangle of arms and legs wrapped around the other like it had always been and always would be. The spoiled cat, that he thought should be in the barn, was never far away.

Yet as a man, a Dane warrior, it, them, the whole thing was agonizing, continuously confronting and always a challenge of his will. His attachment to her was palatable and many mornings he woke wondering if he should allow it to continue or, instead, end the torment and set her free.

Days were spent watching her, asking himself if he had the strength or even the kindness to risk letting her go. There was no question that she had a fondness for him, but he wondered if it was enough for her to stay with her former captor in a land that had taken so much.

And still.... he loved being with her. Loved everything about her. Listening to her hum while she sewed, watching her braid her long dark hair for bed, how she would rarely fill her own plate and instead take food from his. Gods, she was lovely, pure-hearted and kind and never shaken by his gruffness.

As a man usually led by impulse, the path to clarity was heart-rending but he had made the decision to speak with her and no longer stay paralyzed.

So....there he stood, in the late day sun with no armour and no weapons, wearing just a brown tunic and pants, his arm bear with his blade left behind on the table in their room.

As if sensing his eyes on her, she looked over her shoulder, squinting from the low afternoon sun. She was beautiful standing among the apple trees, with her wavy hair hanging free except for the fine braids on either side of her face. Her eyes were lightly lined with kohl and her dress was nearly sheer, illuminated by the light showing the curve of her brilliant ass. Fuck, he felt both excited and scared.

"Can I offer you an apple?" she smiled turning to face him, holding up one of the tart green ones he preferred. The basket at her feet looked heavy, nearly full to the top and he wondered if she had been expecting him.

As he approached, she lowered to sit, patting the ground beside her.

Taking the apple from her out-stretched hand, he settled into the grass feeling like a peasant on the ground but he did not share his grumbles. Chomping an enormous bite, he shook his head with amusement as she plucked it back from his hand and bit a piece from what was left.

"Why, woman, when you have a basket full of apples, do you eat mine?"

Scrunching her nose, she shrugged. "I like to eat your food."

"I have noticed."

"It is funny," she smiled and squinted one eye, her shyness not entirely outgrown.

"What is?" he grinned, nodding for her to answer.

Looking down, she pulled a long blade of grass from the ground, rolling it back and forth between her thumb and finger, the seed pods spinning free. "It is sweet to see a big black wolf share his food." She glanced up. "I like it."

"I. Like. You." he articulated in his deep Danish accent, hucking the apple behind him and leaning forward to grab her.

Embracing her around the waist, he pulled her toward him until she sat between his legs, her giggles bolstering his confidence.

"I have never said these words so I am going to say them now," his face grew serious and he watched her, again, lower her eyes, her expression also settling. "You are a free woman, Genevieve. Not my slave."

Dropping the grass, she reached up, still avoiding his gaze, and began fiddling with the cuff of his shirt that she had re-hemmed.

Clearing her throat, she glanced at him but only for a moment. "I gathered that when you had a new slave brought in."

"I see that girl has braided your hair and lined your eyes," he smiled, his eyes flitting over her profile, his dick flexing in his pants, reminding him it was there.

"Do you like it?" she whispered, clearly trying not to smile.

"Do I like it?" his smile widened, and his dark brows shot high. "Yes," he replied and then grunted like a boar making her laugh. "Genevieve," he leaned in closer, again becoming serious, "It is your choice whether to stay. If you choose not to, I will personally take you back to Frankia. But....the decision is yours."

Saying nothing, she looked at him, her thoughts crinkling the skin of her forehead.

"What?" he nudged her, squeezing her in his arms. "Say something."

"I would like to see Frankia again in my life but there is nothing there for me."

"Will you stay with me then?" The second he asked the question, he wondered why he had risked it.

Shifting, she pulled out of his arms and his heart sank but she quickly turned toward him, settling back on her knees to look at him. There was no smile on her face, but her eyes were warm and bright giving him hope that she was not thinking up the words to reject him. Shifting closer, she placed her hands over his face and he instinctively jerked his head back.

"What are you doing?"

"Hush," she quieted him, "Shut your eyes."

"No," he pulled back again, chuckling.

"Sigefrid," she pleaded gently and his name in her sweet accent nearly made his chest break wide. "Shut your eyes," she whispered, placing her hands back onto his face.

"This is stupid," he grumbled unable to stop the return of his shit-eating grin.

As foolish as it was, he closed his eyes, nearly flinching when he felt the softest graze of her lips against his skin, her hair tickling his face, as her mouth pressed to his ear.

"Sigefrid," she whispered again, "I want to stay with you."

"I want to fucking marry you," he rushed out making her laugh again.

"Let us start with a kiss then," she said in her melodic voice as she lowered her hands.

Waiting with his eyes still closed, he was grateful the next sensation was her beautiful lips pressing against his. The kiss was like her, gentle and sweet, and everything she had made him realize he wanted for himself.

"I need you," he said, opening his eyes, his heart and head drinking in her closeness.

"I know," she replied resting her hands onto his shoulder and inching closer toward him. Bringing her lips back to his face, she kissed his cheek, leaning again toward his ear. "I can see it when you look at me."

Pulling back, he opened his mouth to speak but before he could, she kissed him again and then again, her beautiful mouth inviting him deeper. Wrapping his arms around her, he groaned, pulling her closer until she was seated in his lap. The more he tasted, the more he knew he could never be without her.

Breaking the kiss, she looked at him, "Should we return to the room?"

"No. Let us stay here, under the sun, where the Gods can see us."

Squeezing her to him, he leaned them back until they lay flat on the warm ground. Adjusting, she turned so she was looking into his eyes and he reached over and smoothed the hair away from the edge of her face. Wrapping his fingers behind the nape of her neck, he kissed her again, her mouth so soothing and welcoming with the rolling of their tongues, it made it hard for him to keep a slow pace. Seeing her chest begin to rise and fall, he reached down and began to unlace the ties at her bust, her heavy bosoms straining against the fabric, begging to be freed.

Distracting him from the work of her laces, she sighed against his lips and it felt like a strike of heat shooting to his groin. Quickly he lifted her leg over his hip, pulling their cores closer, and dipped his palm under the fabric of her dress, skimming up the backs of her gorgeous, thick thighs.

He had thought of what this moment might be like a thousand times and yet he was still unprepared for how it pulled the air from his lungs; for how being with her made him feel like a man.

Continuing to run his hand higher, he made contact with her bare bottom, at last, touching the part of her he had never been able to drag his eyes away from. It was smooth and round and squeezing it created the most desirable result, her whimpering and rocking her hips against him. Fuck he thought, as his dick bagged to be unleashed but he could not rush; this was the start of the rest of his life. Valhalla would have to wait.

It was impossible to stop his hands from roaming, they tingled with the need to touch her, to explore every crease and part. Slipping down between her thighs, he felt her sex, his fingers brushing the hair of her mound, so soft it felt like the down of a thistle.

Enough was enough, he had to see her. All of her. Abruptly, he pulled away and pushed himself up to sit, the loss of contact, making her eyes shoot open.

Chuckling, he reached behind his head and pulled the tunic off his shoulders before undoing the top of his pants. Springing forward, his cock was standing alert, ready for her warmth.

Lowering her eyes to his open pants, she pressed her lips together stifling a smile, her dark eyes sparkled and the natural pink of her cheeks deepened to the colour of a rose. By the Gods, he was going to cherish her.

Sitting up, she shuffled her dress out from under her, pulling it up over her head and throwing it onto the ground. Smoothing down her mussed hair, she glanced away as her shyness crept back in. Her voluptuous form was now bare and breathtaking and in every way felt like a gift.

"Lie down woman. I want to look at you."

Lowering herself back to the ground, she moved awkwardly, lifting her arms over her head and using one to cover her eyes.

"Stop that. Look at me," he insisted and she lowered her hands to the grass.

Kicking off his boots, he ripped the front of his breeches down, quickly undressing completely. Crouching over her, he opened her legs and knelt between, noticing how she fought the need to glance away.

"You never need to hide from me. Never me, Genevieve. Never."

Biting her bottom lip, she said nothing but nodded. The small gesture and slight simper, prodding on his arousal.

Raking his eyes down her body, he stared at her large pillowy breasts, so full, they fell apart resting to either side. The plushness of her skin, her round hips, the rolls of her tummy that moved each time he shifted her made him feel, again, like that hungry black wolf and at that angle, he could see the underside of her beautifully round cheeks.

The Gods were smiling down at him, they must be, he thought and he would repay them by worshiping every part of her. Exhaling, his cock twitched as he replayed her whispered words in her songful voice telling him that she wanted to stay. And looking at her perfectly plump body then only made his erection strain and his balls feel tight, knowing with complete certainty, that she was designed by the Gods to produce life; life they would create together. Exhaling again, he nearly grunted thinking how badly he wanted to fill her with his seed.

Crawling forward, he hovered above and pressed his lips to hers again, pouring his thoughts into her mouth.

Straightening back onto his knees, he shifted her legs further apart, resting her spread thighs over his. Stroking his hardness with one hand, he reached down with the other, the glistening of her wetness teasing his eye and making the flames in his chest burn.

Spreading her folds with his fingers, he groaned as he looked down at her light pink insides, her body's honey allowing his thumb to slip back and forth over her clit making her gasp and arch her back. What a sound, he thought, mesmerized. She was all of life and with her, he knew he would share everything.

"Sigefrid," her quiet voice called to him and his eyes looked up to her. "Make love to me, Sigefrid."

As if the war horn had blown, he responded, guiding his swollen tip to her opening. Looking up, his dark eyes locked with hers and all at once he pushed inside.

"By the Gods!" he rushed out as she raised her hands to his shoulders, beckoning him down to rest on her. It felt so right and he knew this was the feeling he would survive any battle for. She was his path to glory.

Withdrawing partially, he pushed back in, his yearning for her unlike anything he had ever felt, an arousal so ripe it smoothed his chaos and steadied his mind. She was the dawn to his dusk, his woman and soon he would make her his wife.

Heat coursed through him, from his hard cock deep in her narrow womb, across his skin, spreading up his back and neck. A low groan rumbled out and he looked up to the trees, fighting the urge to rut hard and fast and immediately spill.

Gods, she looked perfect lying beneath him, he thought as he looked back down, watching pleasure sweep across her beautiful face. The waive of affection he felt was overwhelming and he closed his eyes savouring the feel of being inside her as he rhythmically rocked his hips, each stroke pushing deeper. His skin was moving and pressing against hers bringing forth her scent and the smell of her glossy dark hair, his tongue was tracking up her warm throat as he thrust into her again.

Their movements did not stop until her legs were squeezing his sides, her arms around his neck, his cock sliding out only to pump back in. Every movement was controlled and powerful, and his steady breathing was morphing into low grunts and indiscernible words.

"Sigefrid," she uttered, and his eyes snapped open, seeing her parted lips and hooded eyes, her breath in a light pant.

"Tell me," she whispered with a smile and he had to think about what he had been mumbling. "Say what you are thinking. Please. I can see it in your eyes." Tilting up, she kissed him, her rich brown eyes sparkling, reflecting the sun above.

Staring at her, he felt his chest swell as he languidly withdrew and eased back in and then for the first time in his thirty-one years, he opened his warrior heart.

"Genevieve, I love you."

@naaladareia​​​​​​​​​ @geekandbooknerd​​​​​​​​​​​  @hecohansen31​​​​​​​​​​  @mdredwine​​​​​​​​​​ @ceridwenofwales​​​​​​​​​ @whenimaunicorn​​​​​​​​​ @xbellaxcarolinax​​​​​​​​​ @edythofhastings​​ @clevercass​

[thinkyoureholy]

Soul Eater [12]

[We going 3rd person pov starting this chapter]

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Pairing : Jung Yunho / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Demon! AU

Words : 3.7k

Previous Chapter. - Next Chapter.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I inhaled and exhaled deeply, sitting on my ass. I brought my knees up and rested my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands. I was hyper aware of Yunho’s stare, knowing he desperately wanted answers and I should give them to him but every time I opened my mouth to explain I found myself tongue tied. I mean what could I tell him to ease his mind? It’s true that I’ll be leaving in two months. It’s true that I’ll be forcefully breaking our deal once I leave. It’s true that I’ll have his memory erased. It’s all true but how was I supposed to tell him without breaking his heart?

“Y/N…?” He called out to me, his voice sounding closer than before.

I flinched at the sound of my name, hoping he’d give me more time to come up with an explanation that was good enough to justify why I’ve been keeping this from him for so long. But the longer I waited the more impatient Yunho got. I could feel his confusion switch over to disbelief then to anger when he put the pieces of the puzzle together all on his own. I peeked through a small opening in between my fingers to see him glaring at the floor, his eyes darting around as a deep frown etched itself onto his face. I frowned myself at the sight, wanting to reach out and reassure him but I held back, watching his hands ball up into fists at his sides. 

Without much warning he turned his back on me and headed back inside the bedroom. I waited silently, holding my breath as I watched him walk out fully clothed. I sat perfectly still, not daring to move. The moment I heard him slip on his shoes I reached over to place my hand on Nala’s head gently, petting the hair in the middle of her forehead softly with my thumb.

“Go with him.” I whispered to her under my breath, her blue eyes flashing a bright red briefly before she ran after Yunho.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall, a long drawn out sigh falling from my lips. As much as I wanted to go after him I stayed where I was, trusting Nala. I knew he needed his space so I stayed where I was, switching over to look through Nala’s eyes to keep an eye on him.

-

Nala ran after Yunho, barely getting through the door before it slammed shut. Seeing at this level was a bit disorienting for me. It had been a while since I’ve used this power. At some point I had forgotten that we demons had it since I rarely used it but the instant we found Nala the memory came back. Its a power not many used really, the ability to see through the eyes of an animal, listen through their ears, and control their movements at the basic level was something most if not all demons found to be a useless ability. The ability didn’t really give us much of an advantage over...anything really so it was rarely used.

I cleared my head of these useless thoughts, focusing on following after Yunho. Nala sat by Yunho’s feet as he waited for the elevator, looking up at him. I couldn’t really see his face too clearly from this new angle. I knew Yunho would immediately pick her up if he knew she was there so I had Nala meow, nudging at his foot with her paw. His ears picked up on the sound instantly, his gaze dropping to the floor and the look on his eyes was enough to make my heart sink to the pit of my stomach. Not only did the look break my heart but the tears that stained his cheeks that I hadn’t seen until now was enough for me to want to return to my body and run after him. The only thing that stopped me were the words he uttered as he picked Nala up.

“You won’t leave me will you, Nala?” He asked in a gentle tone, cradling her small body against his chest.

As he stroked the fur on her back another tear fell from his eyes, followed by another until sob after sob wracked through his body. Why? Why was he acting this way? Was the idea of me leaving really that hard on him? He can’t be feeling so heartbroken after only eight months together. Did he love me so much that the thought of never seeing me again was enough for him to break down like this? Did--did he have abandonment issues that I was unaware of? Had something similar happened to him in the past?

I tsked, clenching my teeth as I began to move Nala’s paws.  I had her climb up his shirt until her face was only centimeters away. I had her stay still for a moment, staring up into his face with her big round eyes. 

‘You idiot. I’m not worth your tears! Save those emotions for somebody that can reciprocate them. Save your heart for somebody that truly deserves it. Stop crying over someone that was never meant to love in the first place,’ I told him, my words never reaching his ears but that didn’t stop me, ‘I’m nothing but a monster...I don’t deserve you.’

And with that I had Nala nuzzle her head against his face, drawing a breathy laugh from Yunho. He pulled her back to look into her eyes once more, the sobs no longer leaving his lips but the tears had yet to stop.

“Why do you think she kept it a secret for so long, Nala? I just want her to trust me, is that really such a hard thing for her to do? Or does she not see me the same way I do? Even after what we did tonight, is her heart still too far away for me to reach? Will I ever be able to?” 

-

I lurched forward, scrambling to get to my feet. I slipped on the rug as I ran out of the apartment. The moment I stepped out into the corridor I spotted him by the elevator, his back to me. I bit my lip, swallowing the whimper that crawled it’s way up my throat and took quick steps over to where he stood. As soon as he was within arms reach I wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face into his broad back. I felt him tense in my hold, his hand going to my arm, trying to get me to let him go but I held on tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” I cried out, letting the first of many tears soak through the back of his shirt, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I made that arrangement with Lucifer without discussing it with you. I’m sorry I keep putting you in harm’s way. I’m sorry you had the misfortune of meeting me. I’m sorry.”

I don’t know if he was shaking because I was crying so hard or because he was also crying. I don’t remember the last time I cried like this. I do remember crying frequently when I was human but never like this. I had never felt this heart wrenching pain before, not even when my own parents died or when my husband would take his frustrations out on me. I didn’t even feel an ounce of this when I found out about Greed’s deceit. Nothing I had experienced in my long life was even comparable to the pain I was feeling in my chest at this point in time. No physical pain was even close to this. I wanted nothing more than to claw at my own chest, anything to take my mind off of this torture. 

“If you’re sorry then don’t leave.” He finally spoke up in a low voice, his hand over my own.

I said nothing, only burying my face further into his back, squeezing him in my hold desperately. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I would stay, I couldn’t lie to him anymore. The best I could do right now is apologize for keeping it to myself. I couldn’t make another promise to him that I know I’ll just end up breaking in the end.

“You promised me you’d stay.” He sighed out, his voice raw with emotions.

He said nothing for a second before I felt him try and pry my fingers off of him but I refused to let go. I held on tighter, desperately clinging onto him.

“I’m doing it for you.” I spoke in a firm but trembling voice.

“I never asked you to.” He responded, his tone cold and distant, “All I asked was for you to stay by my side until my contract with you expired and you couldn’t even do that.”

“I’m trying to protect you, dammit!” I cried out, turning him around forcefully so he’d look at me, “I’ve told you time and time again that you’re worth saving. Your soul-”

“I don’t care about my soul! If I cared I wouldn’t have sold it away in the first place!” He yelled, cutting me off, “All I wanted was to be with you but you go behind my back and make an arrangement with the devil without even speaking to me about it! Do you even care about what I have to say?! Do you even care about me at all!?” 

His brows furrowed as he bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes glazed over with unshed tears. I opened my mouth to tell him that I do care about him, for fuck’s sake I’m in love with him but the words didn’t come out. I couldn’t make the words leave my mouth no matter how hard I tried. Did I even want him to know? Wouldn’t it be easier to just have him hate me? If he hates me then it’d be easier for him to move on and forget about me, right? Yeah...it’d be easier for the both of us if I just stayed quiet about my feelings.

“If you’re going to leave anyway why are you dragging it out?” He whispered, not once looking at me as he headed for the stairs.

The second I heard the door that led to the stairs close I fell to the floor, my legs no longer strong enough to hold me up. I clawed at the floor, the pressure on my heart too much for me to bare. I just wanted to feel anything other than this pain. Even the rage that seemed to consume my entire being whenever it hit was better than this. 

Feel angry then. Take out your anger and frustrations on the ones who caused this. Make then kneel at your feet. Make them beg for your forgiveness. Make them fear you. Make them regret ever causing you this pain. Show them just how devastating Wrath can truly be.

-3rd Person P.O.V-

The voice was loud, rumbling deep inside of her but her lips hadn't even moved an inch. The instant the voice went silent it's like she became a totally different person. Sure she's shifted into this form before but never like this. Her claws, horns, and wings sprouted ever so slowly out of her, her eyes now glowed a brilliant red as she stared at the floor intently. Even her clothes changed, the hoodie turned into a long black cloak that stopped right at her ankles.

The look that had settled over her face was a look that would send even Lucifer himself running for the hills. Her body seemed to glow with a dull red light, her rage so intense it was like nothing she had ever felt before. In fact, one could argue that this was no longer Y/N and they’d be right. This wasn’t the Y/N Mingi or Yunho knew, or the one Greed and the other sins knew, it wasn’t even the same Y/N Lucifer knew. No, this--this was the original Wrath finally showing himself. He had been hiding deep inside of her, resting, saving his strength until he could finally come out. He’s come out to the surface a few times over the past few weeks but he still wasn’t strong enough. Y/N hadn’t fully given into her rage, that is until now. And the moment she gave in he came forward. 

“Ah...it feels so fucking good to be back.” She sighed out in content, looking over her claws.

But it wasn’t her talking. Sure it was her voice but those were his words. And as he took control the memories of his final moments flooded their shared mind space, Y/N reliving these memories with him.

-Three Thousand Years Ago-

Wrath clenched his teeth, holding his left arm close to his body as he glared daggers at the man standing only a few feet away from him. This man was his closest confidant, the one demon Wrath could trust...or so he had thought. This man now looked at Wrath with nothing but contempt, his yellow cat-like eyes hiding nothing from him.

“How dare you!? After everything, how--how could you betray me like this!? I trusted you!” Wrath cried out, his voice laced with sadness, an emotion he was unfamiliar with but still hurt all the same.

“A mistake on your part really.” Greed responded as nonchalant as ever, “You really thought I would choose you over our lord? How naive can you be? Is anger really the only thing you can feel?” Greed paused to scan Wrath from head to toe, a scoff leaving his lips, “How pitiful.”

Wrath growled low in his throat, spreading his wings out behind him, his claws coming to an even sharper point, his canines growing like they never had before, and his eyes, they glowed so bright they were almost blinding. Wrath had never looked more animalistic than he did in that very moment. Greed would be lying if he said the sight didn’t frighten him but he stood his grounds, Lucifer’s orders ringing in his ears.

Wrath didn’t utter a word as he charged at Greed, the latter moving out of the way with ease. Lucifer had gone to him thinking he could out maneuver Wrath and kill him but what both Lucifer and he didn’t know was the power and speed Wrath had always displayed was never up to par with what he could really do. He had kept it hidden, that is until today. When Greed moved out of the way Wrath gave a flap of his wings, stopping his forward momentum. He dug his heel into the ground and ran back, grabbing at Greed’s neck from behind. He dug his claws in deep, Greed immobile, his face shoved roughly into the ground.

“I’m pitiful? How about you? Following orders just because you’re too much of a coward to stand up for yourself. What happened to wanting to break free from his chains? Did you not want to be free?” Wrath asked through his teeth, “He gave us life and for that I am grateful but I will not be his slave. I have my own thoughts, my own feelings, my own aspirations. Everything about me is mine and no one else’s.”

“You can’t...beat him.” Greed struggled to get out, his voice strained, “He’s too powerful. His strength is comparable to the archangel Michael!”

“If I can’t beat him then I’ll die trying. No longer will I be taking orders from the likes of him. I’m sick and tired of being nothing more than his puppet.” Wrath spat, his hold on Greed’s neck getting tighter by the second.

“I do hate when pests don’t know their place.” A voice said from up ahead, Wrath’s head snapping up at the sound of it.

The sight he was greeted with had his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach, his eyes going wide with shock. His grip around Greed’s neck disappearing completely. He rose to his feet, staggering forward a few steps before he stilled. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, his eyes fixed on the woman standing next to Lucifer, fear clear in her eyes. 

“Why? Why are you here!? Artemis what the fuck are you doing here!?” Wrath shouted, his voice making her jump, a whimper falling from her lips.

“He--he said you were in danger. He said only I could help you…” She sniffled, shaking like a leaf in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“I’ve told you time and time again to never ever come here! Even if I’m dying you just let me die!” Wrath yelled, his face twisted in pain at seeing her down here.

Tears fell from her eyes at his words, a frown decorating her face as she wiped at her tears with the palms of her hands, “I can’t just let you die, you idiot! I love you! How can you just ask me to do nothing if I know you’re in danger!?”

He faltered, the strength seeming to leave his body, “Artemis…”

Lucifer grinned devilishly at the emotions he saw swimming around in Wrath’s eyes, “So you’ve been more insufferable these past few years over a lowly human?”

Wrath kept his mouth shut, clenching his hands into fists, his claws digging into his palms. He took a step forward the instant Lucifer placed a hand on her shoulder. He opened his mouth to get him to let her go but nothing came out, instead he tasted blood on his tongue. He furrowed his brow, looking down in confusion at the weird sensation coming from his chest. He grew even more confused when he saw a hand covered in blood sticking out of the place where his heart was. He could faintly hear Artemis’ cries as he fell to his knees, letting out a wet cough, blood spilling from his mouth. He looked up and reached out for Artemis, watching helplessly as Lucifer mercilessly broke her neck. His eyes glossed over at the sight of her lifeless body strewn across the floor, everything else fading out into the background. All he could do was stare at her body, not even wanting to fight back when Lucifer made his way over to him, digging his claws into Wrath’s neck and lifted him off the ground. He couldn’t even find the will to fight back, no longer wanting to live in a world without Artemis. Trying to overthrow Lucifer and take control of Hell was meaningless now. 

-Present Time-

“They killed the only human you’ve ever loved…” Y/N said in a soft voice, the words now her own.

Wrath nodded, a hand clutching the fabric over his heart, “I wanted to change for her. I didn’t want to just be a deadly sin. I wanted to be more...for her. But that bastard Greed went running to Lucifer after I discussed this with him. He betrayed me and I’ll never forgive him for that.”

“Natsuki hasn’t changed I see.” Y/N let out under her breath.

“Natsuki?” He repeated the name, unfamiliar with it.

“Ah, sorry its--its a force of habit. It's the name I gave Greed centuries ago. He and I didn’t really leave things on a good note fifty years ago. I still find myself using the name I gave him from time to time.” Y/N explained, scratching the back of her head bashfully.

Wrath paused for a second, going through Y/N’s memories to see what exactly she was talking about. And when he saw the memory he was looking for his face twisted in disgust.

“I see. Well as distasteful as it was seeing you with him this could work to our advantage.” He pointed out.

“How so?”

“If you could get close to him once again we could get rid of him. Aside from myself Greed is the strongest sin. If he falls the others will follow. And once they’re all gone we can kill Lucifer once and for all.” Wrath explained, giving Y/N some time to wrap her head around what he was saying.

She raised a brow, tilting her head to the side, “Can we really pull it off?”

“Of course we can. I only lost sight of what I was doing because they dragged Artemis into it. Had they kept her out of it I never would’ve died so easily.” He reassured her with a bitter smile.

“What if they re-hatch that plan and go after Yunho? I can’t have him put in danger like that.” Y/N spoke skeptically.

Wrath paused, letting her think on her own. He didn’t want to push her into anything because he knew better than anyone what the risks were. If he had known the outcome beforehand he never would’ve gone after Lucifer and the others. Y/N knew what happened with Artemis and she was scared that something like that would happen to Yunho. It was too big of a risk but Wrath couldn’t just sit idly by and let them live after everything they did to him.

“Y/N, Yunho’s life has been in danger since the very moment he summoned you to that pentagram. But we can save him. We can end everything here and now. If you let me take control then I promise you I’ll kill them all before I rest once more. I will never come back out and you can live with Yunho without the fear of Lucifer harming him.” Wrath began, pausing for a second, “You have my word, Y/N. I’ll give you and Yunho the happy ending Artemis and I were robbed of.”

Y/N stared down at her hand with a pensive look in her eyes as she mulled it over. Wrath waited patiently, knowing it was a lot to ask of her but if she loved Yunho as strongly as he loved Artemis then he was sure she'd make the right choice. And when she nodded slowly that was all he needed to take full control. 

"Let's wreck some havoc, shall we?" He muttered with a grin full of malice.

He let a low growl rumble deep in his chest, his claws digging into the floor. He had one thing on his mind and one thing only, murder. He was going to kill them all, he swore it.

.

.

.

Tags : @chanyeolol @j-oneracha @boredmay21 @elenaramos1 @choisofty​

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Angel y/n coming home to find demon harry naked on the bed reading. How smug he would be at the shock on her face

All Y/N wanted to do was show Harry the cute devil-horn pattern cooking apron she’d found at Target.

That’s all she wanted to do.

She just wanted to come home and hold it up proudly to see him break into that fond, giddy smile he gets whenever she does something that makes him extremely happy. She just wanted to hear that adorable boyish giggle he’d release while slipping the ribbon over his head and tying the back into a knot, snorting once he saw that the ends of the strings had little pointed peaks to symbolize devil tails. He’d say he loved it and thank her with a chaste kiss to her forehead, a pat on the bum, and probably some crude remark about how he used to own an apron with topless women on it.

Instead, she got much more than what she bargained for.

Granted, she should’ve announced that she was home as soon as she walked through the front door. It would’ve given Harry a heads up on her presence and she’s maybe about fifty percent confident he would’ve handled himself accordingly.  

But Y/N had wanted to surprise him, too excited to thoroughly think her plan through.

She swiftly sets down the rest of the groceries onto the kitchen island, kicking off her shoes and dashing up the carpeted stairs to their shared bedroom on the top floor of the condo, the apron whipping behind her.

Y/N bumps the door of the room open with her shoulder, already holding up the apron before her with an ecstatic`aura evident in her tone. “Harry, look what I found at—”

Her words lodge in her throat like a demon blade.

Laying on the bed is Harry, back propped against the headboard and legs crossed casually at his ankles, a worn, aged, wine-colored book propped easily against his thighs. The scraped up cover of the novel has its title engraved in reflective gold calligraphy, some of the letters stained with a dried, suspiciously dark liquid: Demonology et Transcendentalis Magia: Carminibus et Invocationes.

In smaller, copper-tinted print below the cursive is the title in English: Demonology and Transcendental Magic: Incantations and Invocations.

However, the satanic scripture isn’t what causes Y/N to release a strangled yelp.

It’s the fact that beneath the book, Harry’s thighs are utterly bare, as well as the rest of his legs, and the rest of his entire body. He’s completely nude.

Her choked sound of mortification pricks at his ears, his head snapping upwards in startled confusion.

The curls at the nape of his neck and around his ears are visibly damp, the rest neatly combed back from his face as to not disturb his immersion in the grimoire. His eyes flit completely black for a second and out of protective instinct, he mumbles a quick, simple defensive spell under his breath. “Ligaveris.”

Bind.

Y/N’s arms immediately slam down at her sides, an invisible force tightening all of her limbs together stiffly until she cannot move a single muscle. It feels as if she’s trapped inside a straight jacket, her whole body completely immobile from her neck down. In the spur of the moment, the apron had been ripped from her grasp and ended up strewn across the floor at her feet.

Harry’s eyes flicker from the silly article up to his girlfriend’s spooked face, apologetic familiarity dissolving away the alarmed contempt that had furrowed his brows and inked his eyes dark. “Oops.”

“‘Oops?!’” Y/N’s voice is strained and high, full of stunned fear that is slowly ebbing into annoyed range. “Get me the hell out of—”

“Solvo.” Release.

Her entire body slumps down as the rigidness in her muscles disappears into thin air. She takes in a slow, shaky breath, letting it out gradually.

She keeps her gaze focused down onto the ground, zeroed in on a faded stain in the carpet a few inches from her left foot. Her voice is full of irritated indignation. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

She doesn’t have to look up to know he has a smug simper plastered across his tinted lips. His sly tone reveals it quite well. “Reading, obviously.”

She can sense him waving the book in the air haphazardly for emphasis, hearing it plop back down against his naked lap.

“Naked?!” Y/N nearly shrieks, still on edge from the sudden attack. “You’re reading naked?”

He shrugs carelessly. “I like to air dry.”

The snark in his remark causes her to shut her eyes in order to reign in composure, wanting to avoid smiting him into a black grease spot.

“You’re practicing satanic magic in our apartment, on our bed, nude?”

“Maybe so.”

Y/N snatches up the apron from the floor. “As if the nude part wasn’t bad enough?”

“S’not my fault you decided to waltz in here unannounced! You’re lucky I didn’t go with the spontaneous combustion spell.”

She indulges an exasperated sigh, the fabric of her gift crumpling in her fist.

The sound of the bed creaking echoes across the walls of the room, light footsteps padding across the carpet. Y/N can feel Harry closing in until he’s right in front of her, shifting her gaze from downwards to across the room to avoid an eyeful.

It lands on the small metal cross she has pinned to the lamp shade on her nightstand, which of course is now flipped upside down. She has to actively force herself to keep from glaring directly at him out of angry impulse.

It’s not helping that he smells of orchid apple shampoo and Tom Ford aftershave.

Harry ducks his head to the side and slides further left, trying to catch her line of sight, but she cranes her neck away just enough to avert a full frontal image of his unholy bits.

He leans forward, lips dragging along her stinging cheekbones and clenched jaw, his demeanor sultry and tauntingly persuasive, trying to coax her into looking. “Is that for me?”

Y/N jumps slightly when his fingers sift between her’s, prying the apron from her hold. He keeps his arrogant expression trained on her for a few more heartbeats, eventually tearing away to examine his present.

A preen of childish delight fills the tense air between them as he takes in the point of the gift. “Oh, I love this!”

Out of the corner of her vision she can see him slipping it on, releasing an amused hum (just as she thought he would) as he ties the ribbon around his waist. “The devil tails are a nice touch.”

“I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”

“You can look now, I’m decent.”

Y/N hesitantly abides.

The apron fits him well in length and width, though his broad shoulders are exposed for the most part. But it stops just above his knees, fitting the purpose of saving her from an uncomfortable situation she’s not really ready to face head-on yet (pun unintended, but there nonetheless).  

Not to mention he looks absolutely adorable.

Harry lifts his arms up at his sides expectantly, the edges of his lips jolting into a giddy grin.  “How do I look?”

“Like the cutest demonic chef I’ve ever seen.”

He poses with his chin propped on one of his shoulders, batting his eyes jestingly, dying them black for effect. “The only thing that could make this better was if it said something like ‘Expert in soul food.’ or ‘Summon the cook!’”

Y/N breaks into a heap of full-fledged giggles, his heart doing a summersault at the way her eyes flash with a holographic glint.

“I think…” He leans down and buttons his lips to her’s in a gentle kiss that causes her ears to crackle with literal electric energy, the tiny spurts of pastel blue lightning popping across the shells. He pulls back, pecking the tip of her heated nose. “I think I’m gonna go make us some dinner in my new nifty outfit.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Harry glimpses over his shoulder, eyes landing on his spellbook. “Venit.”

Come.

The novel suddenly lurches up from its spot on their bed, flipping closed as it flies through the air right into Harry’s awaiting palm. “I’m feeling some Italian tonight. Lasagna?”

Y/N nods distractedly, eyeballing the book with slight unease as he tucks it under his arm. “I got some fresh mozzarella.”

“Perfect. I’ll call you down when it’s ready.”

Harry brushes past his girlfriend, her eyes following him to the door. She should’ve known better.

Aprons only cover the front.

Y/N gets a wholesome view of Harry’s behind as he walks down the corridor that leads to the stairs; for some reason, she can’t look away. Her eyes trail down his taut back as it flexes with every step, following the line of his spine down to the swell of his ass and the curve of the backs of his thick thighs. He just looks so fucking good.

His voice breaks her little peep show, chiming from a few feet down the hallway with an air of self-satisfaction. “I can feel you ogling at my ass, darling.”

Y/N’s head lurches away, cheeks charring and eyes glowing faintly.

He throws a glance backwards, teeth digging into his bottom lip as it curves into a cocksure, pleased smirk; he pins her with conceited once-over.

“If you wanted to look at it so badly, y’just had to ask. It is yours, after all.”

[moonstone210]

Crash

"Are you sure you got that, little guy?"

   Steven continued to lift the heavy grocery bag in his two hands, "Y-Yep! No need to worry about me!"

   "I can carry for that for you, if you want," Spinel kindly offered.

   Steven looked at her, "But then how will I get as strong as you or the Gems?"

   Spinel smiled, not caring if Pearl heard, "Alright then."

   The three of them were out for groceries, thanks to Amethyst trying to create a recipe... only for her to use too many of the food in the fridge for it. Garnet was taking care of the now-sickly Amethyst while they were gone. Spinel shook her head at the thought, why did her best friend have to be so reckless?

   One thing she was a little concerned about; the cars were going a little... too fast. She didn't really know why this was happening. Beach City was very small compared to Homeworld, surely it was less busy. Guess autumn was that kind of season.

   They stopped at the traffic light that glowed orange, and then red, signaling them to stop as the cars zoomed down the crosswalk.

   Steven was still struggling to the hold the bag up, Spinel resisting the urge to help him. If there was something her little 10-year-old wanted to accomplish, she won't stop him ... Unless it was hurting him.

   "Ugh, I hate this specific light," Pearl griped, "It takes so long."

   "Sure does..." Spinel awkwardly replied. For some reason, she couldn't help but get an uncomfortable feeling. Like she was dreading some invisible monster's attack. But what?

   HONK!

   Pearl yelped as a truck blasted its horn, almost causing her to fall back and drop her bags, but Spinel was fast enough to catch her mid-fall. Much to Steven's attention, he noticed one of the items, an orange, rolled out into the street.

   Placing down his bags, Steven looked at Spinel and Pearl, then to the street, wondering what to do.

   "Are you okay?" asked Spinel.

   Pearl got up, gasping a bit, "I-I am..."

   Spinel looked downwards, expecting the child to remain where he was… only to find him in the street!

   "STEVEN!" Both Spinel and Pearl screamed, causing Steven to freeze as he was about to pick the fruit up. But much to his horror, Steven looked up to see a car heading towards him... then a pink blur zoomed in, pushing him away-

   CRASH!

   POOF!

   Steven landed onto the sidewalk with a thump, the blood roaring in his ears. People gasped in shock and the car came to a screeching halt.

   "Spinel!" He heard Pearl shout.

   With adrenaline pumping in his veins, Steven stumbled to sit up, wondering why Pearl had shouted his guardian's name in alarm. His heart seemed to get stuck in his throat as he only saw Spinel's gem lying on the concrete, some specks of pink dust fluttering like ash until it faded.

   All he could do was whimper through breaths. Where was Spinel? Why was her heart-shaped gem just lying there? He struggled to walk over to the gem, ignoring the squashed orange. His knees gave out as he placed his hand on the gem.

   "... Spinel...?" He whispered.

   A pair of thin arms wrapped themselves around his body, and he clung tight onto the gem, holding it to his chest.

   "I-I have to get Garnet," He heard Pearl say, more people gathering and talking but the noises began to drown out as Steven hugged his guardian's gem to his chest, guilt enveloping him.

-----

   "She got hit?!" Garnet exasperated.

   Pearl nodded frantically, "I saw it! I-I don't know why Steven would go out in the street like that, but… Oh stars… "

   Garnet sighed, "Let's be thankful she doesn't have a crack."

   Steven was hugging a pillow close, staring at the heart-shaped gem on the table. Fear shook his head, wondering what was going to happen to Spinel. Was she dead? The other gems say that she isn't, just recovering. But it's only been an hour since she got… how did they say it? Poofed?

   But if she's still alive, how would she say after she… reforms? Will she be different? Will she remember what happened? What will she say to him after he had done something so risky?

   Steven sniffled, tears staining the soft pillow. He wanted to feel Spinel's arms around him again. The feeling of her coiled arms around his body gave him a comforting feeling, like he knew he was loved and protected.

   How could he have done this?

   Just then, the heart-shaped gem glowed and floated upwards.

   "Well, she's coming back now," stated Garnet."

   The white silhouette of Spinel formed, though much to his confusion, her first formation had her pigtails into hearts, then changing to the spiky pigtails he knew for his whole life. The light faded, revealing Spinel, still looking the same; three black tear-streaks, upside-down heart, pink gloves, dark magenta dress tiny black stars dotting the bottom of it, white ribbon tied around her waist, and magenta knee-high pointy boots.

   Spinel gently landed on the floor, slowly opening her eyes, staring back at Steven. The relief in his eyes were placed with fear and thick tears.

   "Hey buddy, you okay?" She spoke calmly.

   Somehow, her response was enough to make Steven start sobbing loudly, jumping off the couch and giving her a tight hug, tighter than the other hugs before.

   "I-I'M SORRY!" He sobbed, continuing to repeat it as he nuzzled into her gem.

   She gently patted his head, "It's alright, Stevie. I'm not mad."

   "BUT I-... I ALMOST KILLED YOU!" He almost screamed into her chest. She turned to face a worried Pearl and Garnet.

   "H-How are you feeling?" Pearl asked nervously.

   Spinel ran her hand down Steven's back, smiling kindly, "... I feel okay. As long as Steven's not hurt, I'm okay."

[ghostsofruefell]

HAPPY 21ST SAMMYYYYYY HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT ONE, so generous 💗💗💗I have come to submit prompts for whatever you're feeling for: Fluff(?) 5 / 38 --angsty 20--feelings 29 / 32--smut 34 / 46

(Thank you! I did 32 and an AU where MC is in the war-torn country of Rakea and Seven is still a soldier, because I wanted to do this one but it would get far too close to the actual canon of the game if I didn’t do an AU. Also threw in 29.)

(This got lengthy, so if tumblr allows me, I will be throwing it under a cut. But sometimes Tumblr doesn’t let that happen with asks, so we’ll see. Edit: it didn’t.)

This war has no need for witches. You know that now. This country was no place for you, just a land of the tyranny and those waiting to die, no purpose. Not like yours.

But it’s a lesson learned too late and your drifting mind can’t grasp the weight of it. Tired, disconnected, the ground is hard beneath your still body. You watch in awe of the ashes dancing and swaying through the air, the crackling of fire where fire was never meant to be, a break only in the thudding footsteps of those running with the misconception they still have something to survive for.

The screams are muffled, your vision is getting fuzzy. The cold humidity layers itself on your scuffed, dirtied skin. The sky is grayed and dead in these falling times and now it spins above you.

Your broken arm feels the urge to reach towards it, to find meaning from the After you’ve never seen, but it cannot move. You cannot move.

You are… so very tired. And that blanket of exhaustion, you sink into it one last time. Your eyes slide closed.

And they snap open again, you’re greeted not by that spinning sky nor your maker, but a dark, worn, wooden ceiling only just illuminated by a flickering orange.

Your head and your body are sore, but you still push yourself to sit up and take in your surroundings. Well… it’s a room, of course. One that looks like it hasn’t found use since the war started. But more than that you’re not alone.

“…I kind of thought you were dead.”

He speaks first. You know him. That huge bull (though, you guess, all bulls are huge) with the stunning purple eyes and peculiar elfish ears in place of the cow’s ears bulls oft have. He’s resting his cheek on his fist and his elbow on his knee, watching you with guarded eyes.

“I… thought I was, too.” You blind in surprise.

He’s not wearing the usual Rakian soldier head protection. Instead, his mouth is hidden behind a dark bandanna tied around the lower half of his face. His dark, messy, and so very soft-looking hair curls over his forehead, shaved at the sides to give his thick ivory horns room.

He’s a soldier, as all bulls are and you’ve met him… many times. Enough times you’ve started to think about him when you haven’t seen him. His handsome features, that distant attitude ever so slowly opening up more and more with your every interaction with him, and how many times he’s helped you…

And it looks like he’s done it again.

You lightly touch the bandage wrapped around your upper arm and he clears his throat.

“I’m no good with that medic stuff, so it’s probably a shoddy job. I only know some things so I don’t bleed out on the battlefield before a witch gets to me.”

He sounds almost embarrassed, like he needs to excuse his lack of skill since you have more training in the same area. You watch as he raises a fist to his cover mouth, body shaking as he lets out a wheezing cough; no doubt he’s been breathing in too much smoke.

His chains clang with the movement.

He’s still wearing shackles, though the chain has been lengthened so he’s less hindered in swinging his axe, which is now embedded in the wood floor. But he’s still wearing shackles…

You shake the thought from your head and say, “It’s fine. Not bad, even. Kept me alive, didn’t it?”

He eyes you, emotion unreadable but he at least seems to soften a bit. “It did,” he agrees quietly.

Actually…

“You said you thought I was dead.” You tilt your head just a bit. “I was surely close, so… why did you help me?”

He shifts. Seven… you couldn’t forget, that’s his name. At least, that’s what you’ve been calling him. For what do you call a man who has no name? And S-736 is too long and impersonal. When you used that word, he told you his comrades call him Six, because there’s a lot of 730′s in his division, 9 in fact… but Seven is okay with him, too. So, it’s Seven. The name only you call him.

You snap back as he speaks, head turned to the fireplace he’s been lightly stoking.

“I thought you might’ve been… but I didn’t want you to be.”

“Why…?” You have to push it. But he doesn’t answer.

“You need to leave. This country, it’s not safe.”

“You say that… but you’re going to stay, aren’t you?”

His claw picks at the frayed edges of the hole torn horizontally across the thigh of his pants. He still won’t look at you.

“I’m going to the capital soon. And after that, I’ll be deployed to Fair Gloria. I have to stay… The capital is safer but you have to get out of the country altogether.”

“Why? Why should I leave while you’re stuck here?”

He still won’t look at you.

“This is my country. These shackles are mine. I can’t leave, but I- but you-… this place is not where you belong and I won’t let-… and you can’t get hurt here. You can’t die here. You just can’t.”

“So you want me to leave you like this? You do get hurt here, Seven. And you will die here. Why should you get to say I can’t while you definitely will?”

He still won’t look at you.

You grit your teeth.

“Why won’t you look at me?! Why are you telling me to leave now?! And why do you keep helping me if you just want me gone, why do you care so much?!”

When he finally looks at you, your heart skips a beat at those reddened eyes and the vulnerability held in his gaze. The knot of his bandanna comes undone easily as he reaches up and pulls it from his face. You hadn’t noticed the blood soaking into the fabric from the cut across the corner of his mouth, his pale skin smeared in red.

“…I think I’m in love with you… and I’m terrified.” His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I’m terrified of being in love with you… and I’m more terrified of what’ll happen to you if you stay here, because all I want… I just want you to be safe.”

…And he thinks you don’t feel the same? He thinks you don’t worry everyday you don’t see him, that he’s off bleeding to death on some patch of grass his body’ll never be moved from until it rots to bone? He wears the scars of someone who’s been hurt for years and death is constantly so much closer to his door than yours, and he thinks he should be more worried about you?

“…Leave with me.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Seven,” you growl, getting up from the mattress you were placed on. It hurts. By the Gods, it hurts, but you do your absolute best to not let that pain show on your face. You can be strong, too.

He leans back on his stool as you hobble closer.

“Seven, I’m not going anywhere knowing you’ll stay behind, surely to find your death within the next few years or even days. You’re terrified for me? I’m more terrified for you. I won’t leave you behind so leave with me.” You take his hand, feel how large and warm it is in yours, and you don’t let him turn away from the sincerity in your fiery eyes. “Let’s both be free.”

Your hand slips from his to the chain holding his shackles together. It weighs so heavily in your hand but surely more so on his mind. “…Let me get you out of these. Please.”

He stares at you in shock. You watch the cycle of emotions clashing in his eyes. He’s afraid. He’s a big, strong, tough man and he wouldn’t want to show you it, but he’s afraid and you know it.

His gaze drifts to the chain in your hand. His teeth sink into his bottom lip for a brief second.

Then his eyes meet yours again.

And he nods.

[survivingthejungle]

dreams and restless thoughts—hvitserk ragnarson

we just closed our production of tuck everlasting... so this one’s for you, good girl winnie foster :’-(

hvitserk x oc (tove; fc elle fanning)

this is ridiculously self-indulgent, enjoy!

It was the first day of summer and Tove Erlandsdottir could not have been more anxious to go into town if she tried. But seeing as it had only been a month since her father died, she had a feeling that her mother would be less than pleased with the idea of her frolicking about the town acting like she didn’t care. The sun was just barely peering over the horizon as Tove strolled around the garden of her front yard, barefoot and with only a nightdress on. She had woken up an hour or so earlier and was too nervous and excited to go back to sleep, so she took to walking around outside instead. The rays of the sun illuminated the mist and morning dew covering the rolling fields of Kattegat and for a moment Tove stood still, mesmerised by the beauty of the scene before her. Her little home was situated up on a little hill away from the rest of town; the view was lovely, but the isolation was not. Pacing back and forth, she said a silent prayer to the Norns. “Today is the one I have been waiting for,” she told them, “The first day of summer; there will be a festival today… And if handled just-so, I might convince mother to let me go!”

Her mother appeared as if on cue at the frame of the door, a panicked look on her face. “Tove! Come inside, you’re not properly dressed! You’ll get dirty,” she chastised.

“Coming, mother!” Stalling a bit longer behind her mother’s command, she continued her silent plea. “I never get to leave the house because of mother’s rules… and the gate. Ever since father died she won’t even let me go to the market.” A small bird flitted past her, the wings fluttering so quickly it sounded like the splashing of a fish. “I wish I had wings. I think I’d look good with a pair!” She turned her gaze up to the sky. “If I can’t have wings, can I at least go to the festival?” She skipped around the house to the backyard to gaze out into the woods that she had dreamed of exploring her whole life; the ones she was never allowed to venture into. “Please, Norns, let this be the day mother lets me out for the evening. What I would give to dance along to the music they play in the town! I can’t handle one more boring day living like this away from everyone else in Kattegat… I can’t live like a prisoner in my own home forever.”

Resigning from her prayer, she finally came inside to where her mother and grandmother were waiting… like they were every day. “Mother?” she called.

“Yes?”

“I have a surprise for you. Would you like to see it?”

Her mother had a look of pure surprise (and a little unease) as she nodded. As she rushed off to her room to change into the dress she wanted to wear to the festival, her grandmother gave her a wink. Tove told her grandmother everything; they were almost equally as restless and adventurous as each other. Of course she had been the first one to know about Tove’s plan, and supported it wholeheartedly.

The dress in question was a light pink gown that her father had given her the year prior. She hadn’t worn it since he brought it home to her as a birthday gift, and she knew it would be perfect to wear to the summer celebration. She slipped it on, tied it up, and slipped on a pair of appropriate shoes for the event before calling to her mother. “Close your eyes, mother!”

“They’re closed, dear.”

Tove bounded down the hall before standing before her mother and grandmother, who was already dozing off at this early in the morning. “Ready? Open!” she grinned, excited to hear what her mother thought of her pretty dress and wonderful idea.

Her mothers eyes opened and then widened, confused by the sight before her. “Tove? I don’t understand,” she admitted, inspecting the dress. “Why are you dressed like this?”

”Well I can’t wear my normal dresses to the festival, mother,” she explained, hoping that her plan would catch on. “Can’t we bend the rules just this once?” Her grandmother then zoned back in to the conversation.

“Surprise!” she exclaimed to her daughter. Tove shook her head, signaling that her timing was not, in fact, impeccable. “Did she say yes?”

“No. No I most certainly did not. I’m sorry Tove. It’s hardly been a month since your father died… We can’t just be seen carrying on as if nothing has happened. Now please take yourself back to your room and put your proper attire on.”

“Oh, Audhild,” said grandmother.

“I told you she wouldn’t let me have any fun,” Tove said, moving to her grandmother’s side.

“Tove! Mother! We have fun every day,” her mother tried.

“Potato peeling and cutting the heads off of the chickens isn’t fun, Audhild,” grandmother snapped.

Tove tried a different approach. “Father would have taken me to the festival.” Her mother’s face fell, a look of sadness and longing in her eyes.

“I know he would have. But… things are different now. You can’t go, Tove, and that’s final.” Her mother brought her palm up to cup Tove’s cheek, looking down at her with sympathetic eyes. “If you won’t follow the rules for me, follow the rules for him. Be a good girl now, and go change,” she commanded.

“Yes, mother.” But instead of going back to her room, she took a detour and went back outside to the garden to collect her thoughts. “Norns, look at me,” she prayed, “I’m trapped in this sad, lonely little house. Is it bad of me to say I want to have fun just this once? I think I’d probably try to sneak out if I wasn’t so afraid of upsetting mother… If there were anything for me to do around here, maybe I’d do it!” The rustle in the grass pulled her from her thoughts. Tove froze, keeping sharp watch on the flowerbed and searching for its intruder. A moment passed, then another, and then out peeked the head of an orange and yellow cat. A stray? Did Freya send it? “Oh, hi kitty!” she cooed, kneeling down to the cat’s level, coaxing it out from behind the stems and the leave. She held her hand out in a gesture of peace, and the cat nimbly lurked forward, seemingly ready to dart away at any moment. It sniffed her hand once, twice, three times, before pressing its head up against her palm. She scratched its scalp, between the ears, and the cat meowed, and then stalked even closer to her. “Are you lost? Or are you here for me?” The cat tilted its head at the loss of contact before pawing up at her, signaling that it was ready for more affection. Scratching it’s head a few more times, she made a move to pick the cat up and nestle her in her arms.

She entered the house once again and passed her mother in the hallway; her attention was turned away from Tove, so she didn’t see the cat in her arms. “Well. I think that’s enough surprise for one morning, don’t you agree?” Before Tove could respond her cat meowed once more, and the girl’s eyes widened as her mother turned around to face her. “Tove, did you just meow at me?”

“Meet my new cat!” She grinned, hoping for the best once again. “I found her out by the fence.”

“Tove, you have no idea where that cat came from! It could belong to someone else; that’s stealing! Put it back outside where it came from, right now,” she commanded, a cold look in her eyes as she stared at the cat.

“Yes, mother.”Once again she found herself outside. “I wish I could break the rules just once… if I didn’t feel so guilty about it.” She set the cat down by the gate, gently scratching her fur. “Well, cat… that didn’t go so well,” she said, more for herself that for the cat. “But at least it got us out of the house! Now; go on. Go back to where you came from, you heard mother. Are you from the wood?” she asked, looking up at the forest surrounding her home and her town. “I’m not allowed to go there. I’m not allowed to go anywhere,” she muttered. The cat took her leave and slipped through the opening in the fence, strolling around back to wherever it was she came from.

“Tove! Come back inside, please!” her mother called from the kitchen.

“Coming, mother!” She obediently marched back inside, when suddenly there was a loud blow of the horn coming down from the bottom of the hill where the rest of the people of Kattegat were just starting their days. The horn blew again. Tove tried to see what the source of all the commotion was through the door frame and caught sight of tens of boats sailing toward the city in the bay. The warriors were back! She ran to find her mother and dragged her over to the door to look out at the city before them.

“Look, mother, they’re all back! It’s a sign! We can go to the festival, like we used to!”

“Tove Erlandsdottir, we will be doing no such thing. I gave you my decision and that’s final! Now go back inside and change.”

“But, mother—”

“No, Tove! I told you to go do something; now do it! You aren’t going to the festival. There are rules to abide by… Besides, those warriors are dangerous. Especially for young girls like you going out and about all by yourself. This world isn’t safe, Tove, and it is my job as your mother to protect you.”

Tove snapped, all of her pent up frustration finally causing her good-girl resolve to crack. “Protect me? From what, having fun?”

“Tove! You go back inside right this instant and change you dress, and your attitude.”

“No.” She glared up at her mother, the shock in her eyes goading Tove on. “I hate you. And I hate your rules!” Grandmother was watching the scene unfold from her seat in the common area.

“Audhild… Let her go. She’ll come back inside when she’s ready to apologize.”

Tove stormed off to the back of the house, sitting herself down in the middle of the garden; she let out a frustrated huff and resting her chin on her palm. There was a patch of dandelions to her left, some still yellow and some going to seed. She picked one of the white ones up and made a wish to the Norns: Give me a sign. Then a meow pulled her from her thoughts. “Cat! You came back!” she noted, grinning widely. The cat waltzed over to her, making herself comfortable in Tove’s lap and pawing at her hand for attention. Tove complied, scratching the cat’s belly gently and raising a yellow dandelion over her face to entertain the both of them. “The only thing stopping me from leaving is that gate…” She glanced at the gate behind her, and the city and the bay and the mountains out beyond it. “If I don’t go to the festival today I’ll regret it for the rest of my life,” she muttered to the cat. Tove moved her off of her lap so that she could stand up, brushing the dirt off of her dress before sneaking around to the front. Upon reaching the gate, her hand stopped itself before it reached the latch to open it. She turned her head back to look in the open window of her home; her mother was nowhere to be seen. The cat jumped through the opening in the fence like she had earlier, and all Tove’s worries followed with her. “Kitty! Wait for me!” and the gate flew open, Tove finally leaving her front yard for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She followed the cat’s lead as she darted left and right, headed into the woods that encompassed the town.

Minutes passed; those minutes soon turned into an hour, then another. Tove was content walking in silence with the cat, whose name she had yet to choose, and admiring the nature around her and her newfound freedom. The guilt of what she had said to her mother had yet to begin eating away at her conscience. “I think I know what I’ll call you, cat. You seem to me like a Dagny.” The cat paused from her walking and turned her head toward Tove. “Do you agree?” The cat meowed. “Very well! Dagny it is,” she smiled, and the two of them continued their stroll. The two strays suddenly found themselves in a clearing, in the center of which were many weapons and targets which the fighters must’ve practiced with. A rustle came from one of the surrounding trees, and she bent down to pick Dagny up, holding her close to her chest in a gesture of self-comfort. She was not afraid, she never was; she only wanted to keep the cat safe. Another rustle and Tove began to suspect that the noises were coming from above her so she tilted her gaze upward, only to be met with the image of a person’s body climbing higher and higher. “Hello?” she called, startling the climber. “What are you doing up there?”

“Climbing the tree, what do you think?” the voice, a man, snapped back.

“Why are you climbing?” she wondered. He peered down at her, his face no longer hidden by his arm, and she could see that he was very handsome. His hair was blond, pulled back into two braids, and his sleeves were rolled up and showing off his forearms. He began to retreat back down to the forest floor. “Don’t let me stop you!”

“I��m not,” he informed her, landing on his feet just a few steps away from her. “I’m bringing you up with me.”

“What?” she asked, startled. “Why?”

“You want to know why I’m climbing the tree?” She nodded. “I’ll show you. C’mon.” He held a hand out to her, the other one holding on to a branch above him. Tove set Dagny down, instructing her to wait on the ground for her and to go find mother if something bad were to happen; the boy smirked at this outside of her line of view. She stood back up straight and stared at the boy’s hand a moment longer before taking it. “What; don’t you trust me?”

“I just met you.”

“What’s your name?” he asked, smiling and intrigued by her meekness. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“My name is Tove. My mother doesn’t let me go into town much… Not ever, really.”

“Huh. That’s strange.”

“What’s your name?”

He looked almost startled by this. “You mean you don’t know who I am?”

It was Tove’s turn to be shocked. Of course she didn’t know who this strange boy was! “No, I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name?” she asked again.

“You can call me Hvitserk,” he told her, expecting it to ring a bell; but no such connection was made.

“Okay, Hvitserk. Now, what were you going to show me?” He was fully enthralled by the strange girl from the woods now.

“Come with me. Have you ever climbed?” She shook her head; he grabbed her hand. “Watch every step I make, alright?” He helped her pull herself up to the first branch, waiting for her to find her balance before bringing her attention back to him. “Try not to grab the weak branches; you don’t want to fall.”

“No, I do not.”

“Don’t look down, either. Just keep pulling yourself up; do what I do.” She obeyed, taking special care not to look below her, only keeping her eyes on the boy above her and how he maneuvered his way through the branches, following his lead.

“Where are we going?” she called to him, after minutes of climbing with no lead as to what the purpose of the adventure was.

“The top of the world,” he grinned down at her. Come up here. Look!” She obeyed and pulled herself up to an adjacent branch, finally getting another good look at his face as well as the setting around her. She could see everything; the entire city—even her home— the bay, the rest of the forest, and all the mountains surrounding Kattegat. “This is my favorite place to be.”

“It’s beautiful up here,” Tove mused. “I can see everything!” He laughed at this, enjoying her sheer, almost childish enjoyment. “I don’t ever want to go back down.”

“Are you going to the celebration tonight?” he asked her. She nodded her head. “Well then you’ll have to. Unless you want to miss it.”

“Oh, gods no! I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she reminded herself, and began to make her way back down to the forest floor. Hvitserk followed behind her. Once they reached the bottom, she began to lightly interrogate him. “Why did you show me that?” she wondered.

“You seemed like you were looking for an adventure.”

“I am!” she giggled. “I just ran away from home.”

“Oh, did you now?” he asked her, almost jokingly. “Well, Tove, I hope it was worth it.”

“I do, too. Are you going to the festival as well?”

He considered it for a moment before giving her a proper answer. “If I get to see you there, I think I’ll have to.” She smiled softly, almost blushing before Dagny leaned up against her legs. “Who’s your friend?” he asked, gesturing to the cat.

“This is Dagny. She’s my cat.” Hvitserk knelt down to pet her.

“She’s very friendly,” he noted. He stoob back up, patting off his knees before giving Tove his attention once more. “I’m headed into town; would you like to join me, Tove? I could show you around, since you never get to go yourself.”

“Do you mean it?” He nodded. “Yes, please! Let’s go!” He held an arm out to her; very proper and respectable of him, she thought. She looped her arm in his, Dagny trailing along at her side.

[eldridgecandell]

The Shadowed Burrow

(An ask prompt that went off the rails)

“Emma look out!”  Eld cried out as he grabbed the inventor and quickly pulled her away from the stone wall, a large wicker hand bursting forth from the ruins to grasp fruitlessly in the damp air.  The rotten digits poked and scraped at the pack soil and debris as they tried to find the warm soft flesh of the living.  It made no sound in other than it’s appendages, the deadly silence of the golem as terrifying as the unnaturally stitched and scraped monster it was.  The pungent sweet scent of rot and earth mixed with whatever bloody sinew had been used to tie it all together.  

They had said the Heartsbane were broken and gone due to their defeat in the taking of Waycrest Manor thanks to the Six and the Lady Waycrest herself.  Only a few stragglers and hanger-ons remained to work horror and havoc, destined to be a thorn in the side of the Kul Tirans as long as they could.  The Order had grown and begun to root out the evil they had unleashed, small still but able to fight back and do their best to protect the small folk.  The days of the witches reign were at an end before they had had a chance to really begin.  This trip into the Crimson had proved they were wrong.  The way was open and there was no way to shut it.

Eldridge held Emma close to him as the wicker beast tried to feel them out, the witch hunter’s breath ragged and painful against her shaking form.  Emma shook as he nails dug into the old leather gear of the hunter as she prayed to the Tides or Light or Fel or whoever to please get out of here.  Why had she insisted on checking down here?  Was the Azerite worth her life?  She wanted to do the right thing and help the people of the world, but she was no hero.  She was a scientist, an inventor, a woman who belonged in the workshops and libraries wishing warriors good luck and hoping for safe returns.

Now she was here in the bowels of some horrible cobbled tunnel in the Crimson wood surrounded by the abominations, Drust, and witchcraft.  She just wanted to be a footnote in the story, not in the thick of it.  

Eld watched as the hand slowly leaned back in the opening it had made in the tunnel, still trying to slow his breathing as he gently patted her, whispering softly.  “We have to move.”

The woman did nothing but cling to him still, the witch hunter thankful for his leather as he heard the creak of her nails digging into his back as she held tight.  Letting out a soft sigh he’d slowly reach over and begin to pry her loose of him, his hands being as gentle but forceful as he whispered again.  “Emma you have to calm down.  You have to calm down.  We’re going to get out of here.”

“I don’t want to die.”

The words were sobering and terrifying as she spoke them, letting the five little words echo in the dark around them as they stood there.  Gulping and freeing himself of the inventor, Eld would whisper again to her.  “We’re not going to die, Emma.  We’re going to get out of here.  We’re going to get out and get out of the woods.”

She was shaking hard in his hands as he gripped her arms, her eyes as wide as the spectacles on her face as she looked up into his dirty face.  Lines of tears clear upon Emma’s pale cheeks as they dug through the red soil that matched their current world.  The inquisitor hoped his face was braver than his heart felt as he used a thumb to smear the tears away into mud on her face.  “We’re not going to die.”

“You promise?”  Emma asked quickly as she continued to shake.

Gritting his teeth a moment, he braced himself for the ultimate lie.  “I promise.”

Emma nodded softly in the dark feeling the older man’s hand grasp hers and squeeze softly before leading her toward the new makeshift portal back into the maze of tunnels.  Their steps slow and light as they edged near to the shambled mud wall and peered out into the witch lite hive of the Coven.  

It was empty and it was quiet, the wicker man seeming to have left to find other quarry or maybe drawn off somewhere else.  A pang of new worry struck Emma as she thought of the poor soul it probably pursued finding Bandit missing.  The inventor bit her lip as she wanted to ask the dog’s master but sound was their enemy and stealth was all they had this point.  A hard squeeze from the older man brought her back to the present situation, his eyes locking to hers as he motioned to his hand and mouthed the word focus.  Lifting his fingers to his eyes, Eld would shake his head and point to his hand with a nod again.  Don’t look.  The inventor obliged.

Their steps were slow and careful as Eld guided the young woman.  His eyes scanning the underground cavern for signs of movement or detection letting Emma worry about being quiet than the horrors around them.  A pang of thankfulness wretched at his heart for all the years he had had to deal with this sort of thing.  From when he fought orcs, to the Scourge, to the Forsaken, and now with the witches here only added more fuel to the nightmare that life never gave quarter too..  Seeing what these creatures were doing within these macabre burrows made him glad that he’d lost faith.  What kind of holy virtue would let this endure?

Forcing himself to look away from the workshop of the Coven, the hunter would continue to inch his way along toward one of the tunnels he noted had a slight up turn of the floor.  The way out.  Or so he hoped.  No matter where it lead though it had to be away from this place and somewhere that didn’t stick of more than rott and wood.  The sounds of boiling vats seemed to chorus in their wake as they reached the tunnel mouth and slipped up a few steps into the shadowed witch light again.

A shaky breath expelled before Eld tapped the young woman on the shoulder and saw her look up to him again.  Droplets of blood dribbled down her chin from how hard she had bit it, eyes still wide with fright.  Please tell me she didn’t see, he thought as he felt a pang of sorrow strike his heart.  To have seen become of those poor people who haunt him like so many other ghosts, Emma didn’t need that.  Gulping hard, he would lean in close to her ear.  

“You have to run.”

Emma’s head jerked up as she looked up to his face as the terror began to eat at her again, it reflected in his eyes that looked beyond her and behind.  Eld licked his bottom lip as he tensed before her and lead her around behind him to put himself between her and the wicker man again.  She didn’t want to look.  She knew she shouldn't.  Her eyes looked over the shoulder of her friend back into the mouth of this mad hell.

The wicker man filled the mouth of the tunnel.  It’s body huge bent over to lean on one of it’s large carved wicker hands, the rotten and splintered claws digging into the dirt as it poised in position.  Warped and tied together by strands of meaty sinew and hair turned like living tissue to adjust it’s stance in watching them.  Or what they thought was watching.  Two blank holes of an elk’s skull watched them, black as the shadows that crawled away from the blue lite torches stared ahead.  It’s yellowed skull head was littered with other bones thanks to a variety of donors.  Wolf, ox, elk, and man.

It’s wooden fingers pulled it forward slowly like a hunter cornering it’s prey, the head tilting otherworldly like an owl as it regarded them.  Long horns that protruded from it’s head dug through the dirt floor and walls as it forced it’s large body deeper into the tunnel.  Since first meeting the monster it finally made some sort of sound.  No words, no growls, no breath.  It clicked.  Clicked and clicked like clacking teeth as it tilted its head one way and then another summing the pair of living in it’s master’s domain.  They were guests.  They were trespassers.  They were supplies.  

Eld used himself fully as a shield to the inventor as he could hear her breath coming in quick terrified gasps as the wicker man slowly edged after them again.  His own heart pounding faster by the second as he tried to think of a plan.  He was out of bolts, not that they had done any good before.  He had two of his iron knives still on him, but he couldn’t imagine getting close.  His sword had bounced off the wooden body of the creature before being lost to the depths.  There seemed to be the only one way.

“I don’t want to die.  I don’t want to die.  I don’t want to die.”  Emma’s hyperventilating was growing out of control as she began to freeze behind him.

“Emma you have to run.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Emma you have to run!”  Eld’s voice rising as he looked over his shoulder briefly and then back to the stalking monster.

“I don’t wa-”

“Run!”  Eld yelled as he turned and shoved her away to send the flight into the young woman before she let out a terrified wail and began to run up the shaft.  The hunter was chasing after her just the same as they pounded the dirt and ran upwards into the ascending dark.  The wicker man took after them as well, still clicking it’s bone words and forcing its way in pursuit.

The witch hunter was near a full head taller than the inventor as they ran and it showed in his longer stride as he near passed her only to shove her and egg her on.  “Run Emma, don’t look back!  Faster!”

A wail was all she could manage as she clawed and forced her legs on her heart near bursting with her lungs as they fled from the darkness that never tired.  Emma bounced from one wall and felt the witch hunter at her back shove her forward with another yell, not even managing words now as they tried to escape.  Have to keep going.  Keep running.  Don’t look back.  Watch your step.  The last thought was forgotten as a low root seemed to reach out and snag her booted foot sending the young woman forward to slide on her hands and knees.  The dirt felt warm under her skin, warm and wet.  And red.  Why is the dirt red?

Strong hands would grasp her about the waist and lift her up with a roar of strain before she was flung forward with a scream.  Her scream was soon joined by a cry of pain and heavy thump as Eld flew over her and slammed into one of the mud walls and slid weakly to his feet.  Punch drunk and wounded the man tried to get his footing as he looked back to her and started to yell before something leapt over to land between them.  Soil and rock fell on top of Emma, as she lifted her hands to her head and curled into a ball to protect herself.  The smattering of debris clearing her vision before she looked up to see the back of the horror and Eld pinned against the wall by one of it’s huge hands.

The witch hunter had only a few seconds to react as the wicker man knew who the threat could very well be, hunters knew the scent of fear and Emma was doused in it.  Eld’s eyes widened as the clawed hand flew forward to grasp him, his own arms coming reflexively around his chest and guard his ducked head.  The wind was knocked out of him as he felt the mud wall catch him and the wicker hand squeeze about his battered weary body.  He was caught.

The wooden fingers dug into the dirt wall to close the space quickly about Eld and the rest of the golem began to press it’s mass behind the grip to begin crushing the fragile flesh.  Eld was glad he had his arms up in the defensive gesture as he strained against the abominations murderous intention.  It would pop him like a tomato at this rate.  Growling and straining he would try to push his arms back against the strength of the wickerman, the blank empty eyes sockets staring at him as he struggled.  Eld’s struggles continued as his growling turned into cries of anger and pain.  He was going to die.  He was going to die in some Coven workshop of terror and no one would probably ever know.  Eld began to struggle for breath as he looked out beyond the monster’s face and saw Emma staring horrified at the death of her friend.  The hunter stared back as he knew he was going to break his promise already.

Emma didn’t know what to do as she watched the golem crush her friend in the palm of it’s clawed hand.  Her glasses were cracked as the world came in a fractured vision of the demise of Eldridge.  Her breath in gasps as she froze and began to feel her mind begin to shut down and search out a safe place.  Knees slowly drawn up to her chest as she felt herself exit her body and regard her terrified self in the dark of the red tunnel.  Her voice soft against the painful cries of the older man.

“I don’t want die.”

You don’t have too, spoke a voice.  It’s words dripped with clarity and calm like the voice of a patient parent or mentor.  A gentle stroke to her mind as it had spoken so clearly to her.

“I don’t want to die.”  She mumbled again as she rocked.  Eld let out another scream of pain as the clicking wicker man seemed to find a sadistic joy in killing the man.

You don’t have to my sweet girl, the voice spoke again that gentle stroke to her mind much like her mother’s once was to her blond hair during a storm.  You don’t have to my sweet girl.  We can help you.

“I don’t want to die.”  Emma buried her face in her knees again as she closed her eyes, hoping not seeing the slow murder who erase it.  The wild scream said otherwise.

Say the word my dear Tidesinger, say the word and we will save you.  The gentle touch was intoxicating in it’s warmth and reassurance.  The could save her.  She could get away.  They would save her.  She just had to say yes.

Emma couldn’t manage the words any more as she rocked bakc and forth, the soft touch of the voice’s promise filling her and starting to send her into a dreadful calm.  The Fel could save her.  They could get her away.  She didn’t have to die.

“I don’t have to die.”

You don’t have to die.

Her mouth grew dry as she felt the warmth again, but this time it wasn’t as soft and gentle.  It felt hotter.  Stronger.  It felt good.  She didn’t have to die.

Say the word, Tidesinger.

Her lips began to move as she found herself tempted, blocking out the horrible scream of the man who had brought her down here.  She could get away. She didn’t have to die down here.  She could live.

A lone howl echoed from the dark.

Emma’s lips stopped moving as she heard that howl, her head shooting up to see the slumped over form of the witch hunter in the grip of the monster.  Eld was not moving.  The thing’s head lifted as it peered up the way they had been running, following the fractured gaze of the inventor’s.

The shadows would part for a dark haired figure flying toward the creature, a warcry bouncing off the mud walls as he flew through the air.  The witch lite bouncing off a strange orange metal in the figure’s hands as it revealed to be a wide blade down at the golem’s wrist that pinned the witch hunter.  The sword passed through the wicker like butter as the figure used his momentum to roll through the dirt and bounce back up regain his footing.  The enraged face of Renwyk Darrow was instantly recognizable as the watcher adjusted his stance for another slash of the copper blade.

Emma stared in shock at the man, her mouth agape as his blade bit another deep bite into the clicking golem.  She never even noticed the second blur of shadow fly forward with a roar to bite down on one of the antlers of the golem and drag it back exposing it’s chest, Bandit looking far to small to have such strength.  Emma wanted to say something but a new sound caused the world to explode in pain from the loud blast of gun fire thundered through the enclosed hall.  The shot ripped deep into the chest of the  golem as chunks of wood and bone flew through the air, that same witch lite as before shining out from the wound.

“Mr Darrow!  Now!”  Another man’s voice called out as a glint of orange metal again spun through the air, Renwyk slammed the sword deep into what was the shoulder of the beast before leaping up again with an outstretched hand.  The orange disappeared in an easy catch before the soldier fell back upon the creature again.  Blue light flared once before being snuffed out to the low light of the torches and a slow steam rising about the warrior’s frame.

Hands grabbed and shook Emma as she blinked back into reality her wide eyes slowly coming into focus as she looked about the tunnel at the sudden rescue.  Following those hands about her shoulders she would soon be staring into the disheveled and worried face of her friend Priscilla.

“Emma, oh Light Emma, what the hell happened?  Emma,” the dark haired woman was shaking as her face was slowly growing wetter by the second as she swept her friend into her arms now and held her.  Emma smelled gunpowder, sulfur, and a dash of old perfume, the same that she knew Pris always wore when she went out to visit a certain gentleman.  Sobs erupted from the inventor as she held tight to her friend and wept into her shirt, the soft cooing of Priscilla Adams rising as she tried to calm her down.

“Tides and Fel, this is incredible,” came the cautious voice of Gideon Beresford, the large coach gun held loosely in his hands as he walked around the ruined corpse.  He too was dressed much like Priscilla, indeed they seemed to have the same shirt as he walked around and toward where Pris sat with Emma.  

“I think we need to concern ourselves more with the wounded, sir,” Renwyk added grimly as he hopped down from the golem’s chest and hurried made his way to Eld.  As he approached he would find the black dog, sitting in front of the slumped over man.  Back straight, ears up the large head would slowly turn toward the approaching watcher and cause the man to stop in his tracks.

Black eyes shown in the low light, staring without end from a vast void of emptiness that made folk look away and decide what they saw was a trick of the light.  Eyes that shouldn’t belong to the living.  The dog continued to stare down the human with that hollow gaze before Ren slowly backed away from the scene.  Out of the anima’s line of sight the former watcher would find his hand gripping the hilt of the copper blade he’d left in the wicker man.

“Good boy, just need,” Eld groaned out weakly, a hand reaching for the dog.  “Just need to catch my breath.  Good boy.”

Darrow grimaced as he tugged at the blade and found it falling out of the creature easily, a plume of grey and black ash falling away from the wound.  Surprise lighting his eyes he’d watch as the grey had begun to spread over the wicker man, the wood petrifying as the dark magic broke down.

“Light,” murmured the younger man as he looked at the brightly shining copper sword.  “Sir, what manner of sword is this?”

Gideon turned to Renwyk with a grim smile on his face, a hand running over Pris’s hair in comfort as the woman continued to comfort her friend.  “There's a myth about how you can kill a tree with a copper coin.  Dig it in deep, leave it, and the tree will die around it.  Old wives tale to be sure.”

The professor cautiously moved over to the pile of ash and began to move it about with his boot before crouching down with a gallows laugh.  “I’m fascinated with myth and legends, old wives tales and I always had a soft spot for this country.  So when Pris grabbed me and said we were coming to the Crimson, something grabbed me about that old tales.  Call it luck or fate or whatever, it doesn’t really matter.”

Gideon stood back up and held up the large copper nail that Renwyk had caught.  “Fight tales with tales.”

The watcher shook his head in disbelief.  “This is crazy.”

“It’s very crazy.  I’m guessing you came by the same means as us,” Gideon continued as he slipped the nail back in a pocket.

The watcher’s eyes moved back to where the dog sat across from his master, his hand instinctively tightening about the hilt of the sword again.  Something was very familiar about the pair.  “You’d be right.  The dog right?”

“Indeed,” the professor followed the gaze of his cohort, a more curious look to his face than cautious before shaking his head and moving back to the women.  “There’ll be time for questions later.  We should be going.”

“Right.”  The watcher keeping one last glance at the ranger and his pet before turning to help them.

Gideon crouched down again and touched Pris gently on the shoulder, as he smiled sadly to her.  “We need to go. I’m not sure how far down we are, but we can’t stay in here.”

Pris nodded softly before speaking again as she looked into the dirty blonde hair of Emma.  “Candell?”

A reluctant sigh fell from the professor’s mouth as he looked at the ground.  “Pris I’m so-”

“Sorry we went in without you,” came a weak voice from behind them.  The witch hunter leaned on a hand on the dog’s head to steady himself, his face pale and drawn with caked soil and blood.  He looked like hell.  The dog stood resolute beside him, his broad body and shoulders easily aiding the older man in standing up straight.  Surprise was on all three faces as they saw him alive, Renwyck’s even more noting how much bigger the hound looked now.

“How in the hell?” Gideon began as he stood up beside Pris and Emma.

“Mr Candell,” Pris began with a broken voice before stopping and changing her tone to her usual sharp tongue, though the tears still slipped down her cheeks.  “Mr Candell, if you insist on trying to get yourself killed I would appreciate it if you didn’t do it so far away.  Or with my friend.”

“I will keep that in mind, Ms Adams.”

“You say that now,” Pris reached up to angrily wipe her face before she pulled Emma gently up to her feet.  “Come on Emma, we’re getting out of here.  I’ve got you.”

The inventor would look up cautiously from the safety of her friend’s embrace to the faces of their rescuers.  Recognizing them all and feeling a sense of relief at being saved from the now defunct monster that nearly ended them both.  She didn’t care how they got there or why these three came instead of anyone else.  She just knew people she loved had come for her and they rescued her.  She smiled behind her shattered glasses again as she sniffed looking at each of them to show them she was going to be alright.  Even the woman who stood back the way they had come was smiling to her and it brought an unsteady peace to her heart.  She was a tall handsome woman, blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun with plain but well made lavender robes about her.  The purple meshed well with the brightly lite green eyes that laughed back at Emma, her hands raised to her in gratitude.

“Emma, what are you looking at?”  It was Ren who asked, his familiar voice close to her as she took in a shaky breath and smiled weakly to him.

“Nothing,” Emma blinked and swallowed with that same weak smile. 

“Just a shadow.”

(Thanks for the ask @whimsicallyart and to everyone for letting me play with their characters)

Featuring: @emma-tidesinger @eldridgecandell @priscilla-adams @gideon-beresford @renwyck