#Jumping Castle Hire Gold Coast

[demon-princess13]

wrote a draft for session 0 of my next campaign. I always write a little hook/monologue before I have to answer 194747393 questions about the setting, wanted to share it here!!

(edits/criticisms welcome, I only spent like 20 mins on this and there’s bound to be mistakes)

here’s to more of my obsession with Tiamat & Dragons

_

You step off your boat, onto a coastline decorated with fishermen, the early morning sun enhancing their sunburnt faces. You watch them; fly fishing the coast or preparing their own boats for castoff, enjoying the peace for the moment you allow yourself.

Leaving the captain of the for-hire ship to handle the rest of docking, you step to the sandy shoreline and onto a dirt path cut into the thick woods. A few feet through and a warm scent wafts up to your nostrils; reminding you of street fairs with their roasting meat & endless jugs of brew. Following the smell, you come upon a quaint town with houses of emerald green and gold, seeming to glisten in the sunlight. In one window a pair of large, glowing yellow eyes looks at you curiously before disappearing back into the shadows of the unlit home.

Taking your first glance upwards, you find yourself taken aback by the sight of hundreds of winged creatures in flight above you. So many different colours, sizes, and shapes it’s impossible to focus clearly on any one of them.

In the distance looms a castle, the red of its walls visible even from its resting place atop a mountain. The top of the castle is lost in the clouds, but a weak amber glow shines through them. How tall is it? You can’t be certain.

As you stare, enjoying a sight some only ever dream of- a glob of flaming goo lands just feet in front of you. Your thoughts are interrupted by the burp of a 20ft tall dragon who’s sat, contentedly licking up his flaming sick.

“Sorry about that! This one’s on a new die- oh. I’ve never seen ye before. New to town? No wonder you’re standing there with that stupid look on your face. Follow me, I’ll help ye find some lodgings.” A nearly toothless man grins, jumping off his mount and patting the disgusting creature on the head. “Seems you’ll be needing all the help we can offer” he chuckles, handing you a ration and linking his arm in yours. “Let’s be off then!! To a bed! My names Timny, by the way! Nice to meetcha!”

And so it begins. A new adventure

(( “invitation” story: One day, while sitting at home eating breakfast, a small bird sized lizard flies into your window and perches upon your table; where it drops you a small scroll held together by a golden ribbon. As you grasp the scroll, the tiny dragon puffs into smoke and disappears. The scroll reads as follows: “Tiamats whispers grow louder, and she has been whispering your name. Make your way to the point on the map below, if you hope to change your fate from one of fire.” As you finish reading each word, they disappear into thin plumes of smoke; revealing pieces of a map laid behind the enchantment. A small X marks an island a few days journey away. ))

((If a character chooses not to take part in the trip to the island right away, they find themselves plagued with nightmares of a five headed dragon during their sleeping hours, and nearly silent whispers in their mind during their waking ones. The map will reappear in any bag, closet or cupboard opened until the journey is taken.))

[juangarciajumpingcastle]

Jumping Castle Hire Gold Coast | Wicked Jumping Castles

Are you looking for a princess jumping castle hire? Call us! We have a variety of themed jumping castles for hire Gold Coast that your kids will enjoy. Wicked Jumping Castles takes pride in providing our customers with only the best quality inflatable jumping castles. You might find other companies offering or advertising themed castles only to rent them and find out that they are not what the picture advertised. Don’t fall for enticing advertisements right away. Their jumping castles might be old, worn out, and even dirty.

At Wicked Jumping Castles, we make sure that we provide our customers with what they deserve – the best, real value for your money. So, when you decide to hire one of our amazing, top-quality inflatables, you will never be disappointed.

[pleasantanathema]

The Witcher’s Woes

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: bruising/marking, rough sex, dirty talk, light degradation, mentions of blood/injuries, very mild angst, porn with plot

Word Count: 10k

A/N: This is a collab piece for the Pleasant & Strider Present: Fantasy AU Writing Collab hosted by myself, @present-mel, and @linestrider​ 

You can find all the other wonderfully creative and smutty pieces on our masterlist!

P.S.: This is a long one, if you feel like only reading smut, feel free to jump down to the second line break and begin there. 

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         A Witcher: someone who has undergone extensive training, ruthless mental and physical conditioning, and mysterious rituals, which take place within Witcher schools such as the Wolf, Cat, and Griffin in their respective hidden Kaers, or home castles, in preparation for becoming an itinerant monster slayer for hire. (source: fandom.com).  

          The storms were raging on the coast, salty waves crashing into the shore like heavy hands attempting to crawl out of the sea, only to get dragged back into the abyss. The winds were howling, lightning crashing, yet the storm was the last thing on your mind as you opened the door to your lowly estate.

           Ushijima of Velhad still had his arm raised from where he knocked on the wood, his yellow eyes glowing against the darkness of night. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him, his chestnut hair tousled, lines of rain water dripping down his nose, his cheeks pallid. Even still, The Witcher looked to be a living memory, no new wrinkles or scars that you could detect when the rumbling flashes lit the sky. If it wasn’t for the rain, he would’ve looked entirely the same since you last saw him years ago, smiling in the evening glow of the countryside before departing for a new journey.

           You ushered him in quickly, silently, your instincts for hospitality taking over before you could begin to think of questioning him about his sudden arrival. His armor was damp, heavy, sloshing and clinking as he undid the leather and meteorite laced straps from his shoulders. He was breathing slowly, deliberately. You rushed to grab towels from a chest, blanketing him in warmth as he sat before your rolling fireplace. He uttered a quiet thanks, never one to use words out of place.

           The tea you had been brewing above the fire began to boil. You quickly poured two cups, adding a dash of the alcoholic white gull to his and using a burst of fire magic between your palms to keep the cup warm. You settled into the chair beside him, noticing how his gaze leered into the sparking fireplace.

           “Ushijima,” you finally called him, after time had passed and his hair began to dry, “are you hurt? Is that why you’re here?”

           He grunted from beside you, moving the hand you noticed had been clutching his rib cage.

           “Yes, but not badly. I needed refuge from the storm more-so than a potion.”

           “How did you know where to find me?”

           He was quiet for a moment, perhaps pondering if he should simplify the truth.

           “A sorceress, even in hiding, is never hard to find. The townsfolk talk, you know. I knew you were nearby before even beginning my hunt.”

           “You could have asked for more than the tea I gave you, you know I’m here to help.”

           He leaned back in the chair, his thick, long legs spreading out before the fire, his socks still damp and clinging to his toes, a big cat uncurling his weary limbs.

           “It would have been rude to barge in begging for assistance.”

           Ah, yes. He was still as courteous as always, his Griffin School teaching still ingrained in his mannerisms. Most Witchers were not so polite, but that school in particular valued traditional teachings. You knew you’d have to indulge his small conversation before getting more answers from him; he always played the chivalrous game, after all.

          “Tell me, what brings you to the shores of Blaviken? Last I saw of you, you were riding north, returning to what is left of Kaer Seren.”

           “There is nothing left,” he sighed, both arms now resting on the chair, the last remnants of tea staining his cup, “everything was destroyed, save a few books I found amongst the rubble.”

            “What a shame, that library was a marvel. I would’ve liked to visit it myself.”

             The story of the destruction of Kaer Seren was only well known to those acquainted with the last remaining Witchers. The keep was tucked away amidst the edge of the sea and the snowy mountains of Kovir to the north. The Witchers of that school, all of Ushijima’s kin, were well acquainted with magic and kept a vast library of mystic tomes within their home. But they were secretive, protective of their knowledge. Witchers, men created by magic to become the monsters they killed, were guarded for good reason. Years of persecution had left their numbers in ruin.

            A group of mages felt scorned by the Witchers’ refusal to share their wealth and toppled the castle of Kaer Seren in an avalanche, leaving bodies and crumpled books in the wake, all never to be used again. You could almost picture the blood and ink that stained the snowy graves.

           You’d only heard this story from the mouth of Ushijima himself, one night after too many scuffles and too many drinks.

            “I brought some for you,” he smiled then, warm and soft, full lips on display, “that’s the real reason I’m here.”

            His eyes were especially luminous in the firelight, gold irises reflecting the flames like the most precious of coins. His cheeks were flushed now, color regaining across his skin. Freckles smattered his cheeks like dried blood; you had to hold yourself back from reaching to him, from caressing his skin to see if the marks were lost war paint or new stories etched into his skin. He was tanned from all his time spent meditating in the sun, truly a unique specimen to behold. It was rare to see someone so brutal be so beautiful.

           You were excited at his words, your fingers digging into the grooves of your cup at the mention of magical books awaiting you to peruse them.

           He could see the eagerness behind your eyes and he laughed, then coughed, but continued his soft chuckling again. You paused, realizing he must be in more pain than he was letting on. His arm had returned to his torso, the thickly corded muscle clutching and protecting whatever injury was lying beneath.

           “They’re in my bag by your door, you should go look at—.”

           “Ushi, you’re hurt. Let me take care of you.”

            Before becoming friends with the valiant hunter, you would’ve leapt at the opportunity to read hidden knowledge. But years of acquaintance with the hardened man had your heart tugging in another direction; suddenly, Ushijima was becoming more important than all your years of study and practice in sorcery.

            He had a habit of breaking everything he touched: monsters, glass cups, weapons, he had a very powerful grip, and perhaps you were just the next thing in line to come undone by his hands.

            You stood from your place by the fire, strolling over to a cabinet where you kept all the alchemy ingredients you had collected from your years living alone here by the sea. Many travelers had come by, having heard of the witch by the shore, bringing elements and components to sell at a high price. And you had taken them all, emptying your purse at even the faintest glimpse of a rare material peeking from their bag. You loved your craft, you had perfected it, almost, and every day you spent toiling away finding new ways to create potions and expand your magical knowledge.

          “I need to know what you were hunting earlier.” Your fingers began rustling within the crowded shelves, grabbing an empty bottle as you heard him sigh behind you.

          “A Hym,” he said softly, “it scratched my side, it’s deep, but not fatal.”

           You stilled, eyes darting across all your ingredients. He said the word so easily, so nonchalantly, like he didn’t just battle a demon.

           “A slice from Hym’s ethereal claws drains the life force from their victim, the longer that wound sits untreated, the worse you will get.” You mentally cursed at him, blaming his chivalrous nature for hurting him for longer than he deserved to be in pain. If he had said something when he came in your front door, you could have had him on the mend already.

           “I know that, but a small potion to get me through most of the pain until now.”

           “You’ll need more than that. You’re lucky, I just went to town last week and managed to find vitriol. I can make you a superior swallow drink, just…stay still.”

            Quiet mumbles tumbled from your lips as you worked: measurements, ingredients, small musings as you set aside all the components to begin assembling them upon your alchemy table. Plants like white myrtle, celandine, crow’s eye fell into the bottle of enhanced swallow you already had on hand; you added fruit, nothing too exotic, just the common berbercane, and finally the blue tinted vitriol powder.

           You eyed the hunter as you mixed the potion, swirling the now red liquid within the high neck of the bottle, speeding up the mixing process with a little magic of your own. Only he would have such insouciance concerning a fight with such a wicked creature. He was talented, perhaps not as much as the more legendary Witchers that roamed the lands, but Ushijima was strong, sturdy, nimble and smart when in battle. His stoic nature allowed him to distance himself from the horrors of his life, a life you knew he had not chosen.

           He was an orphan, brought up by the Griffin School and transformed into a monster hunter without much consent, though you knew he had none to give. But he wore his profession like a badge of honor, looking at his life through a lens of helping those who could not help themselves in a world infested with demons, ghouls, and humanoid monstrosities.

           You’d always wanted to admit how admirable you found him, but you knew he was never one to take compliments.

           Standing next to where he was patiently sitting, you offered him the small bottle, the glass precariously dangling in your fingers.

           “Take this,” you pulled the flask away just slightly as he reached for it, “but only after you tell me what the hell you were doing fighting a Hym.”

          “You said it yourself, I get worse every moment I don’t drink that.”

          “You’ve lasted an hour, Ushi,” you chided, “I think you can take a few moments to tell me why there was a Hym near Blaviken.”

           You sat the bottle back on the table, moving to stand behind him and press the towel around his shoulders a little tighter into his neck. He gave you a contented sigh, eyes closing. He never liked to talk about his work, but you always pressed him. You lived in this monstrous world as well, had killed a few drowners while walking along the sands, aided an earl with a botchling, once even made friends with a rather tempting succubus. Everyone in this world was plagued by wretched creatures, he was just more qualified to kill them with his training and silver swords.

          Your fingers pressed into the soft cloth around his neck, picking up the fabric and using it to brush against his hair and continue drying the damp spots still lingering around his ears, the back of his neck. You normally weren’t so blatant with your affection for him, but you knew you had him as a captive audience within the chair. He’d have to tell you his story before earning what he desired, but you might as well humor him with soothing touches while he did.

         “Hyms are nasty things, you know. Demons that feed off the guilt of others.” He began.

         “I found a note from a daughter in distress about her father on a notice board not too far down the road. He was going mad, she wrote, she thought perhaps he had become possessed. I did some searching in their house, found love letters tucked away under the old man’s mattress addressed to his sister-in-law. He wanted her, he loved her, so he killed his own brother to have her. But then she threw herself into the sea from her own grief; I think the Hym could’ve gotten to her first, then transfixed itself onto the man.”

         “Hm, the things we do for love.” You mused, hands coming to rest on his shoulders once again.

          Somehow, he felt stronger, broader than the last time you’d touched him. You sunk your fingers into the sinews on display in his damp shirt, humming to yourself. You’d thought about this before, about having the strengthened hunter sit vulnerably before you, only your thoughts involved the two of you in much less clothing and talking of much less rotten things.

          You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering the sketches you’d seen of Hyms in bestiaries. They were murky, shadowy beings, devilish horns upon their faceless heads, long black claws dripping from their hands. You would have cowered at the sight of such a creature, yet Ushijima sought out to destroy it.

          His gruff voice continued on, “I confronted the man, called out the Hym, and it began to attack. Its claws are long, it scratched me from the very beginning. But it’s gone now, perhaps banished to the dark realm from whence it came.”

          You plucked the bottle from its resting place, handing it to Ushijima over his shoulder. He took it with a simple thanks, head tipping back as he drank the entirety of its contents. You watched almost gleefully at his thick, irresistible neck on display. Everything about him was so strong, so well kept, even as he sat before you dampened from a storm.

         “You know, Ushi, I could listen to you talk like that for hours.”

         “Oh yeah? Then maybe I’ll stick around for a bit this time, let you listen to all my seedy tales.”

         “Mhm, they’re only seedy when that bard friend of yours is around. Is he still alive? Tendō, that is.”

           A flash of red hair and a catlike smile flashed before your mind’s eye as you thought of the dangerous, yet comical bard who often clung to the Witcher’s side.

           Ushijima laughed, clutching at his stomach as you circled his chair and came to stand before him, arms crossed delicately in front of your body. Your figure cast a silhouette across his own, making you seem larger than life in the firelight. He was enraptured in the inky vice of your shadow.

          “Yes, somehow he is still alive. Last I heard of him, he’s off singing songs in the capital of Redania to some rich heiress.”

          “Good to hear,” you shrugged, “I always liked him.”

          “No, he always liked you.” He wiggled his eyebrows, the action sending you into a fit of giggles as well. “And I can’t blame him.”

          Your laughter subsided at his words, a warm tingle spreading across your body. Normally Ushijima was not one to flirt without the aid of alcohol; perhaps you’d given him more than you thought in his tea earlier? You watched him relax in his seat, lifting his shirt to reveal a quickly fading wound upon his tawny skin, the old blood sinking back into the muscle where it belonged.

           Thunder rumbled outside the walls, a heavy boom resounding from the gods above.

           “You should bathe, Ushi.”

           “What, do I smell?”

           He was suddenly so playful, so charming, his grin making you feel flustered.

           “You will soon, I’m sure. Go beyond those doors,” you pointed over your shoulder, “It’s a heated pool, one of the reasons I chose this god forsaken estate.”

           “Will you join me?”

           You took a pause. This man was always making you pause, making you step back and evaluate your words and actions around him. Surely, he was joking. But the gleam in his bright eyes told you a different story, there was more lingering behind his words that you did not yet understand.

           “I will, but only after I take a peek at those books you brought me. Now, off with you.”

           You brushed by him as he stood, arms stretching above his head, his body shifting as he evaluated the healing wound upon his flesh. His heavy boots clunked against the floorboards as he followed your command, the sound of an enhanced predator marking his path. He slid through the door at the back of the great room and left you alone once more.

           You would’ve been ashamed if he saw how quickly you rushed to his bag, gathering the cold, dusty books in your arms before setting them gently on the table. They were relics, ancient, undoubtedly hiding secret runes and magic within their spines.

           Your fingertips brushed over the titles of the four books he brought you, but despite being entranced by the knowledge lying in wait for you, you were imagining your fingers to be elsewhere. You flipped one book open, your nails following the lines of ink, but your mind took in no words you read.

You were somewhere else; you were mentally with Ushijima, your fingers back in his hair, your hands exploring places unknown to you on his skin. He was the well-guarded book you desired to read, to hold, to explore.

______________________________________________________________

           Ushijima was astounded by your bath. He knelt to the stones on the ground, using his keen senses to feel the heated rocks and look for their source. There were some offshore vents that were connected to this place, feeding in warm water to the bath. He took in a deep breath, smelling the lingering hint of salt in the air, but the scent didn’t entirely match the ocean.

           He dipped his fingers in the water, finding it smooth, warm, unsalted. You must have put magic in place to filter all the sediment from the pipes. You always were clever, even in the smallest of ways. Your wit was something he admired about you.

           He took his time undressing, his ears perked as he heard you rustling paper in the other room. He had felt embarrassed at first about being so sentimental towards you; he had known from the beginning of his journey that any tomes he found would be placed into your care for you to enjoy. He’d read them, of course, the journey from Kovir and Poviss still a long one to the border of Redania where you lived. As he divulged himself in the ancient knowledge of his Witcher school, he always pictured you reading the same words he did; he felt your presence nestling into his skin, enveloping him like a magic spell. He liked to imagine how you’d react to the pages, how many notes you would scribble down from certain intriguing sections.

           Ushijima thought about you more than he cared to admit.

           Naked, he stepped into the bath, his screaming muscles finally silenced under the hot press of water against his body. The bathing pool had a ledge around its border, and he took a seat at the back, arms spreading out like heavy wings along the rocky edge. He sat where he could watch the door; it was instinct, he told himself, to always be aware of his surroundings, but he knew he was just waiting to glimpse your figure appear before him.

           Some nights, when preparing his tent under the stars, he would think of the first time he met you. He had traveled with Tendō to some opulent gathering in Toussaint, one filled with wine and vampires he knew were hidden amongst the crowds, but any thought he had of a hunt had vanished when he saw you. You were delightful, enchanting, eye-catching amongst the throngs of people. It didn’t take long for his friend to seek you out, to gain your friendship, and Ushijima watched patiently from the sidelines, watched how you held yourself with such poise and dignity. But all the while, he was aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to know you.

          You had become his guilty pleasure over the years, a fantasy he envisioned as he lay alone at night. Even when he was meditating, he was hard-pressed to not find himself seeing your skin behind his eyes, imagining how your body would feel within his hands. The hands of a killer, a fiend, hands that crushed whatever he held all too easily. But you, you were so powerful, so seemingly untouchable, and he found himself unworthy to behold you. He was just another creature, a man turned monster, someone wholly undeserving of a divine sorceress.

          He huffed to himself, a shy smile pulling at his cheeks as he thought of your words from earlier.

         “The things we do for love.” He repeated the words to himself, sinking a little deeper into the water.

           He didn’t have to wait long for you to enter. He was unexpectedly aware of his nakedness as you entered, fully clothed still in your corset and trousers. He felt heat rising to his cheeks, spreading down across his belly, at the prospect of watching you change; it would be impolite to ogle you. He turned his gaze instead to the water, watching how the surface lapped at his skin as he shifted his weight.

           “Are you comfortable?” You called out to him from across the room. He could hear your clothing shuffling, hear the laces coming undone one by one from your body. The room felt quiet, the air smothering. He’d felt so bold earlier, but now he felt almost ashamed that he had asked you to join him.

           “Ushiwaka,” you implored with a little more strain to your voice, “don’t tell me you’ve gone shy on me.”

           His gaze shifted up for only a moment, catching a glimpse of your naked back as you peered over your shoulder at him, your hands ready to pull down your breeches and become fully naked. He couldn’t help himself, he gawked at your beauty, tracing every curve, line, and dip across your splendidly sculpted skin. You looked more beautiful than any constellation he pointed out with his finger in the night sky. He unabashedly gazed at the planes of your shoulders, the gentle slope of your spine. He imagined taking his time to map the uncharted waters of your body, of discovering every hidden cosmos tucked away within your curves.

           “Yes,” he cleared his throat, “I think I’ve become even more comfortable at the sight of you.”

           He held his breath for a moment, waiting for your reaction. Upon seeing you smile and turn your face away, he sighed, sinking deeper into the pool, arms barely keeping him afloat from where they rested on the edge.

           He heard splashing as you waded into the water, submerging yourself up to your neck before you came to sit just a few feet away from him. From here, he could study you more closely, see the elegant slope of your neck into your shoulder. He was pleased to note that he could still make out the form of your breasts in the water, the lovely globes just barely dipping out of sight.

           “I must say, even in the given circumstances, you’re still a sight for sore eyes.” He always loved how silky your voice was, always melodious to his ears. He always worried he’d forget how it sounded, but your timbre matched the tone he had been playing in his head since he last saw you.

           “I haven’t heard the name Ushiwaka in a long time,” he confessed, “it’s always Witcher now, or Ushijima of Velhad since that’s where I did most of my work.”

           “Well, you lost that name—Wakatoshi—a long time ago when you were picked up by the Witchers, but I know it is sentimental to you still. If you prefer, I can just call you Ushijima.”

           “You know I don’t mind it.” He felt like he said the words too quickly.

           “Hm, well, I’ll call you anything you let me, Ushiwaka.”

           A shiver hit his body at your words, he was keen enough to know there was innuendo laced behind them.

______________________________________________________________

           You closed your eyes, head leaning back against the warm stone as you allowed the steamy water to wash away the grime of the day. You moved your hands over your body, feeling the sticky sweat melt away. You reached for a small towel, tossing one in Ushijima’s direction and watching how he caught it so effortlessly, like a cat swatting at a shadow on the wall. He received a small bar of lavender soap with the same ease, his nose wrinkling at the flowery scent.

           You both took a moment to wash, you humming an old tune, Ushijima remaining silent aside from the sloshing of water made from his heavy limbs beneath the surface.

           You’d never been in such an intimate space with him before. A bath is time of solace and cleansing, but also one of exposure and susceptibility. Water intentionally brings forth feelings of intimacy and ambivalence. You knew he was there, watching, his heightened senses attuned to every sound, smell, every minimal movement around him. You couldn’t take his silence any longer.

           “I—,” you began quietly, “can I ask you something?”

           His movements ceased, those radiant eyes now focusing entirely on you. You instantly felt heat spread across your chest, climbing up and darkening your ears with blush. You wondered for a moment if he could see through you, in you, see how fast your heart was pounding blood through all your veins. His intense stare made you feel like he was closer, his deadly hand wrapped acutely around your heart, aiding it as it struggled to beat harder, faster.

           “Of course.” His words were direct, poignant, the deep vibrations almost tingling the water itself.

           “When you were facing that Hym, at any moment, did you fear it would sense your grief?”

           You could tell he was taken aback by your words. He placed the wet cloth to his chest, his long fingers digging into the fabric as he pondered what you said.

           Once again, he wasn’t sure if he should simplify the truth. He mulled over your question, let the words seep into his consciousness as he looked up to the ceiling. He should’ve known you were astute enough to see through him.

           “Yes,” he stated, “I did.”

           He didn’t wish to elaborate any further, but he could tell his curt response didn’t satisfy your internal reasonings.

           “I see.” You noted somberly.

           “How did you know?”

           He watched you slink farther under the water, searching for cover, searching for a way not to express your thoughts. He noticed how your legs crossed beneath the surface, the light from the hanging candles glittering through the water.

           “I know you didn’t choose this path, didn’t choose to be a Witcher. That was forced upon you; you were lucky you even survived the Trial of Grasses that made you into what you are—.”

           “A monster.” He interjected flatly.

           “You’re not…” you sighed, dipping your head into your wet hand, “you’re no monstrosity, Ushi, not even a miscreation.”

           He tensed at your words, catching how you regarded him with a solemn look.

           “I didn’t choose a life of sorcery, you know. I was torn away from society when I was a girl, taught to use my source of magic to heal wounds, but also how to kill someone in an instant. People…powerful people used me to their advantage. It’s why I stay hidden now, I’m running from my past misdeeds. I know what it is like to have regrets; to grieve.”

            He only nodded in understanding, afraid of using the wrong affirmations.

            A heavy silence fell between you once again. You plucked the soap from its resting place behind you, thoughts tumbling through your mind like the waves crashing at the shore outside. So many words were desperate to leave your mouth, to be birthed and said and made into reality between you, but you dared not.

           If anyone understood the weightiness, the hidden meaning behind silence, it was Ushijima.

          But even he couldn’t bear it much longer. He grunted, running his wet hands over his face as he contemplated his next move.

         “Well, tell me this. What would you be if not a sorceress?”

         “Hm? Oh, I’ve never thought about it before. I’ve just…always accepted my fate.”

          “I’d have been a sportsman,” he declared, a slight uplift in his voice.

          “Oh really?” He watched as a grin pulled at your cheeks, the heaviness of the conversation before dissipating. “And what sports are you good at, Ushiwaka?”

          “Anything with a ball,” he shrugged, “some kids down south play games with poorly strung nets, and they do their best to keep the ball from hitting the ground as they toss it back and forth. I think I’d be quite decent at it; I am agile, after all.”

          “Powerful, too.” You remarked.

          “You think so?” He teased.

           He eyed you carefully as you set the cloth and soap aside.

           You began to move... towards him. His eyes narrowed, his hands mimicking your actions and setting his bathing instruments to the side, freeing his hands.

           You were ethereal in the water, gentle waves lapping at your skin, the ebb and flow of it shimmering around your body.

          “Now that I think about it, I know what I would at least be proficient as if not a sorceress.”

           The smirk that tugged at your lips intrigued him. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out for you, taking your arms and pulling you towards his chest.

          “And that is?”

           Time stopped for a moment as you settled yourself into his lap, the sound of your breathing, the feeling of skin upon skin, touch upon touch, the only increments of time needed.

           His body was so hot, so willing to accept yours upon it.

          “I’d be a wonderful whore.”

          Golden eyes flickered up to you, lashes low, his lips parted.

         “Care to show me?”

          Your skin was cold to his warm touch, his hot breath fanning across your cheeks. He was so close, so eager, you could feel hardness begin to form between where your thighs cradled his.

          Your hands slid across his shoulders, feeling the grooves and puckers of scars pass under your touch. You settled your grasp onto his neck, steadying yourself above him. His hands played against your skin under the water, the heavy fingers finding your hips and sinking into the smooth flesh he found. You gasped aloud at the feeling; his grip was strong, iron-clad, daring to leave marks behind. You wanted to break under his touch, collapse against his chest and allow the water to pull you both under into euphoria, but you secured your inner desires. Your back straightened, your fingers clawing into his thick skin.

          “Ushiwaka,” you whispered it like a humble prayer, your lips brushing his, “kiss me.”

         He groaned, pulling you a little closer, spreading your thighs a little wider.

        “Why don’t you kiss me, little temptress? Show me how much you want me.”

         You felt bewitched, wondering for a moment if he had placed you under a mind control spell with his words. Your thoughts were jumbled, but they were still yours: kiss him, touch him, read the hidden words on his inky pages like you had long desired.

         Your lips met his tenderly, hesitantly, tasting the salt of water and sweat against his awaiting mouth. He breathed through his nose like he was exhaling life into you. He moved his mouth against yours, testing you, pushing at you, and effortlessly you gave in. Your eyes were closed, but you felt like you could still see him, felt like you knew every step in the dance he was leading you in. It felt so natural, so smooth, and you found yourself clinging to him with every press of his lips against yours.

          Then his mouth fell open; an invitation. You followed him, sliding your tongue in, finding his own past his teeth. He felt like true sin, his tongue tempting yours to reveal its secrets to him. It was slow, methodical, a mutual exploration of tastes and pleasures you had both long craved to discover.

          Your chest fell to his, your breasts meeting the hard planes of muscle found there. You moaned, the sound of water moving igniting your hunger as one of his hands meandered up your back, fingers lapsing into your soft muscles. He offered you a groan, and you took it desperately, hastening your kiss and plunging you both deeper into one another. One of your hands wandered from his neck, slipping down his chest, pressing him back against the edge of the pool. Your nails pulled at his flesh, wanting, needing, unknowing how to gain purchase against such solid muscle.

          He tasted like tea leaves: earnest, alluring, but also like the earth, like something natural and primal. It was a taste that was familiar, enticing, and every time he took a moment to breathe, you found yourself diving back in for another taste, another glimpse of what lay hidden beyond his lips.

          “Mhm,” he moaned as he finally pulled away, chest rising and falling, “perhaps I’ll mold you into my own personal whore.”

          “I’d like that, Ushiwaka.”

           The blood within his veins rushed to his cock at the sound of his name, of that personal name, falling from your sweet voice. Fuck, he would give anything to have you, but it seemed that he didn’t have to. He could feel by the way you clung to him, by the way you kissed him with such fervor, that you desired him all the same. It was thrilling to know you wanted him, and he wondered how far he could take you.

           His hand glided away from your back, circling around to your chest. He cupped one of your breasts in his hands, holding back a groan as he felt the weight of it within his palm. He watched how the water lapped at your skin, the ripples from his movement brushing against a hardening nipple. The small sound of delight that left your lips had him refocusing his gaze to your face. You wore a sly smile, your own hand upon his neck tightening in anticipation of his next move.

           “I’m a dark man, my love. Hardened.”

           He was toying with you, but his words offered some truth. Ushijima had been envisioning you like this for far too long; there many devious things he wanted to do to your body.

           You leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss to his ear, your voice low, “hardened indeed…I can feel you between my thighs.”

           He smirked at your words, taking your nipple between his fingers and listening to you gasp as he gave it a simple tug. Your teeth found his ear in response, nipping tenderly.

          His eyes fluttered at the feeling; a groan caught in his throat. He wondered if you could sense it. You pulled back slightly, angling your head to give him another kiss. He accepted it gladly, tongue ready to find yours again.

         “You can be an obedient little whore, can’t you?” He rumbled against your lips; his words being lost inside your mouth.

          You ate the words like you were starved, a hot moan swallowing them down as you felt a shock of pleasure race down your spine. He grunted at your action, the hand upon your breast squeezing in response.

         “Yes,” you said softly, as he allowed you to escape his kiss, “where did all your chivalry go, Ushiwaka?”

         He smirked as you teased him, his lips dipping to your neck, tongue tracing the lingering water droplets that fell down your skin.

         “It’s waiting between your legs.”

          It was a growl, the sound of a predator marking his prey, the sound of a man holding back his lusts.

         You sucked in a breath, eyes closing as you dipped your head back and allowed him more access to the length of your throat. The hand at your breast squeezed harder, his thumb and forefinger rolling languidly across your straining nipple. You felt like you were lost at sea, the weight of the water around your bodies feeling heavier as Ushijima pulled you into his tides. He was the moon, pushing you, pulling you; he always has been. For so long he kept you at arm’s length, toying with you, teasing you, bringing you so close to him but never close enough. But tonight, the moon was waning, his control faltering as he finally gave in and allowed himself to fall into the calling sea.

         He held you back on his thighs, but you could feel the heat radiating from his body below the surface. One of your hands trailed down his chest as he sucked dark red marks into the junction of your shoulder and neck, staining your skin with colors from his own making. He bit your skin especially rough when your wandering fingers found the hard lines of his stomach.

        You were tentative, taking a moment to feel if his wound was finally gone from the magic bestowed upon him. You could only feel scars underneath your palm, though one felt particularly puckered and new. But his stomach wasn’t your goal, it was what was straining against it.

        He cursed into your skin when you wrapped your hand around his cock, fingers pumping against the silken skin within the water. His lips fell lower, his eyes closing as he littered open-mouth kisses against your chest, now using both hands to cup your breasts and bring a nipple within his mouth. You moaned loudly, a rush of ecstasy coursing through your veins. He pulled you forward, forcing your hand away from his cock. Instead, he shifted to where his cock was nestled between your pussy and his stomach, allowing just enough friction to keep you wanting.

        He needed to keep his head clear if he was going to please you in all the ways he had dreamt of. He was going to taste you, tease you, earn the right to claim your body as his own.

        “Ushi—,” you went to whine, but a calloused pinch to your nipple ripped his name away from your mouth.

        “Be quiet.” He demanded against your breast, teeth lightly tugging at your hardened bud.

        You only gasped in response, hands smoothing across his broad shoulders as he worked his way to your other breast, hands needy, mouth exceptionally hot. Your hips pressed down and you felt the length of his thick cock against your aching pussy. You experimentally slid yourself against him, desperate to feel more touch against your most sensitive flesh, against the place that had wanted him for so long.

        His hands moved to your hips to still you, his vice-like grip returning.

        His mouth left your breast, his chin tilting up to look at you. Those glowing eyes were dark, ravenous; perhaps there was something monstrous sleeping inside of him, ready to awaken.

        “Stop tempting me. You’ll regret it.”

         His reflexes snapped as your lips parted to speak. Two thick fingers slid onto your tongue, pressing it down, the taste of water and leather swirling in your mouth. His taste was a mixture of his worn gloves and the floral soap he’d cleansed himself with. You groaned, head tilting back as you let him have his way, your mouth suctioning around his fingers for some kind of relief.

        He eyed you carefully, watching the sinews in your neck come on display for him. Bruising marks of his design were blooming on your skin, little fragments of memories coming to life before his eyes. Your mouth felt like sin and he could already imagine how it would feel to have his cock sliding against the supple lips wrapped around his fingers.

        Ushijima twisted your nipple again, a little harder, a little tighter, feeling pleased with himself as he heard and felt the grumble of a groan against his skin. A small drip of saliva trickled down your chin and he used his thumb to smear it into your cheek.

         He could’ve held you like this for all eternity, had you pressed against his cock, his fingers padded against your tongue, your beautiful breasts on display as he groped one, watching the flesh mold into his hand. He had you subdued, compliant, a wondrous creature caught in a dangerous trap. He could do anything he wanted to you right here and now, and the realization had his cock twitching against your cunt.

         For his own enjoyment, he was going to mark you, leave something behind on the picturesque pallet of your body.

         You would never be allowed to forget him, as he knew this vision of you would forever live inside his mind.

         He took his time, each bite and suck carefully and meticulously placed. Ushiwaka was never one to use his mouth without purpose, whether it be for his words, or his kisses. Your shoulders, your chest, your breasts, nothing was forgotten, and you felt like you had been sitting on his lap for eons. Each time his mouth curled into your flesh, his hair tickling you, you felt hotter, more alive than before. You pressed down harder against him, searching for some kind of release to the pleasure he was building inside of you. But he had you pinned, a strong arm encircled your back and kept you exactly where he wanted you.

         When he sucked your nipple back into his mouth, you cried out against his fingers, your tongue darting between the digits as you sucked a quick breath in through your nose. He paid you no mind, his own tongue licking meticulously at your nipple, up and down, slow and steady. The bliss that erupted from your breast was almost mind-numbing. Your thighs clenched around his, your head lolling back even farther than before. You needed more, you were desperate to feel that talented mouth back on yours, to feel his fat cock slip inside you were you needed it.

         Finally, he released you, his mouth leaving your breast as he slipped his fingers from your mouth. You took a moment to catch your breath. He splashed his drool covered fingers in the water, bringing the wet digits back to your face to wipe you clean, his thumb tracing your lips with care.

        “See what being quiet gets you?”

         You nodded your head in agreement, your nails finally releasing his shoulders where they had been clawing into his skin.

         “I need you,” your arms wrapped around his neck, your mouth finding his in a tender kiss, “please, Ushiwaka.”

         “You beg so prettily, my love. Perhaps I should have you beg a little more.”

         “No! Fuck, please…” you entangled yourself around him, legs curling around his toned waist, your face nestling into his shoulder. You brushed the skin found there with your mouth, hungrily moaning against him. You were frantic; you had already waited for him for so long, thought about him for too many nights, too many years.

         His strong arms enveloped your back and he lifted you easily from the water. You adhered yourself to his body, ready to have your muscles clench around him to assist, but he needed no such help. Your weight was effortless to him.

         Ushijima used the ledge of the pool as a step, faultlessly exiting the pool like a nautical divinity coming to soft shores. He was cautious as he laid your wet body upon the heated stone, careful not to crush you under his weight. He watched your eyes alight as you took in the sight of him out of the water, now hovering above you. Your gentle fingers traced over his biceps, his shoulders, his chest, finding the constellations of scars upon his skin, his own physical galaxy for you to explore.

         He took your face in his hand as one of his muscled thighs spread your legs. You were entranced in his gaze, finding yourself lost in the molten amber of his eyes as his pupils danced across your face. He was taking in every bit of you that he could, burning this vision of you below him into his memory. You were flushed, lips parted, slightly swollen from his ardent kisses. Your delicate hands moved to rest beside your head, palms facing him, submissive.

        “Please,” your voice broke him from his trance, “don’t make me wait any longer.”

         He nodded in response, eyes tracing down across your body. He relished having you before him like this, back arching towards him, breasts falling, your hips shifting against his legs. The hand on your face trailed away, making a path down your torso, fingers swirling against the lost dewy droplets against your skin. And then he finally peered down farther, having to steel himself from groaning as he found your awaiting pussy.

        Your skin was prickling from the cool air meeting it, gooseflesh creeping up your legs, down your arms. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you watched him, waiting for him. You could practically see the thoughts racing through his mind, though you wished you could know them. What was he thinking? Was he hesitant?

        Your own contemplations vanished when his warm, wet fingers spread your pussy, two fingers deftly sinking along the sides of your lower lips. You moaned, eyes fluttering closed, heat pooling within your belly. He took his time exploring you; he was a man of patience, after all.

        You could feel his weight shift back as he sat on his knees, spreading your legs across his thighs. He curled one leg back for him, opening you up more for his viewing pleasure. His finger slowly traced up the center of your cunt, finding your sticky wetness coating the digit as it carefully curled against your clit. You let out a quick gasp, hips twitching, and he repeated the motion, watching you slowly come apart from the simplest of touches.

        His other hand found his cock, fisting it as he played with you. You could hear the slick pumping of his hand against himself, and you moved your weight upon your elbows to sit up and watch him. Even on his knees, Ushijima of Velhad was intimidating, all broad shoulders and heavily corded muscle across his body. You admired how his arm flexed as he stroked himself, how his toned stomach was clenching with need. Your mouth fell open as you glimpsed his thick cock within his palm. It fit so perfectly in his big hand, throbbing, thick veins calling out to be inside of you.

         You wanted to beg for him again, but your words were lost when one of his fingers slid inside of you, stretching your walls to fit around him. You dropped back against the warm stone, mouth falling open.

         “So tight,” he said it like a fact, like he expected it, “you’ll feel so good stuffed with my cock.”

          You bit into your lip in a whimper as he curled the digit inside of you, pumping it once, twice, with agonizing slowness. But soon, he added a second finger, the thick digits spreading you, testing you. His pace was calculated, fingers pleasurably systematic. You moaned at every twist and plunge, hips arching off the floor to meet his pace. His thumb began to circle your clit and you swore that stars overtook your vision, bursting in the corners of your eyes as you tried to focus on the ecstasy churning deep within your stomach. His long fingers were stroking your velvety walls just perfectly, each plunge feeling deeper and deeper than before, fanning the flames beneath your skin even hotter.

        “Ushi, please…”

       “Please what, my love? Tell me.”

        He was particularly cruel, electing to rub your clit faster, harder, making your words choke in your throat. You cried out, feeling the orgasmic coil begin to tighten in your belly. You were already so strung out for his love, for his touch, and you knew your little death was just around the corner.

       “Make me cum, p-please!”

        You felt his heavy body come back to yours, the hand on his cock ceasing its movements and instead finding your hand beside your head. His strong fingers wrapped around your flesh, curling into your forearm, thumb tactfully pinning down your wrist to the stones below.

       He repositioned the hand between your thighs, now using the palm of his hand to press against your aching clit. His fingers found the soft patch of flesh inside of you, petting against it skillfully, like he already knew exactly what you needed, knew exactly what made you fall apart to his immoral hands.

       His face dipped to yours, causing your eyes to flicker open to find his adoring gaze above you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your lips, muffling your moans as your legs began to press against his forearm, thighs begging for the release he could bring you. His mouth matched the rhythm of his fingers within you, his body in harmony with your own, pulling you tightly like the strings on a well-played lute. You were so ready to snap, so ready to sing songs of praise up into him, but all too soon his mouth and his hand left your body.

        He could read the bewilderment on your face, feel you try to press back against him, but he held you down easily with the weight he forced onto your wrist.

        “I want to feel you come undone on my cock,” he whispered against your lips, “are you ready?”

        His hand, now slick from your pussy, pushed your thighs apart wider, curled your legs back farther, his own thighs pressing into your soft flesh. You felt his cockhead brush between your dripping folds.

       “Yes! Take me, for the love of all things hol—!”

        His hips slammed into yours, his throbbing cock filling you, stretching, pressing you far beyond what you expected. He hushed your cry with his mouth, his hand cupping your thigh and urging your body to move with him as he began to thrust within you. Your hand that he pinned to the floor fisted in on itself, your nails threatening to break your own skin as your mind struggled to catch up with your pleasure. You were so full, so fucking full, so overwhelmed by him.

        His dewy, tawny skin felt so sinful against yours, the lingering moisture on your bodies bleeding into one another. His hips were strong, fast, each plunge of his cock going deep, deep, deep into your awaiting depths, finally uncovering every hidden place on your body to have as his own. You gasped and moaned into his mouth, and his sighs melded with yours, his kiss desperate, lips crashing into yours with more fervor than the storm that raged outside.

        You felt so utterly lost, yet so wholly encompassed by him, by his earthy scent, by the weight of his body against yours. Your breasts slid against his chest, nipples pebbling as they brushed against his downy hair. Your back was skating against the warm stones below, the pressure against the hard surface enough to make you ache, but it paled in comparison to the jolts of pure pleasure that resounded through your body with every thrust of his massive cock inside of you.

        “More,” you pleaded softly, lips peppering him with ardent kisses, “more, more, more.”

         You felt him place more pressure on your trapped wrist and you gasped, worried for a split moment that your bones would splinter under his power. But he was cautious, moving your arm gently to rest above your head. The hand on your thigh crept up your body, stopping for only an instant to grope at your bouncing breast. But his fingers quickly moved on, skimming up your other arm, palm smoothing against your dampened skin. He soon found your wrist, now using both his mighty arms to pin your own above your head, leaving you entirely at his mercy.

         “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

          His words were a dare, a wicked promise.

          At the nodding of your head, he smirked, lips coming to your ear.

         “Tell me to stop if it becomes too much, you promise?”

          His thrusts had never faltered, the air in your lungs still hot from all your heavy breaths. You closed your eyes again, finding your voice.

          “I promise.”

          The primal sound that left his chest startled you; you could feel the rumbling spread across your body like aftershocks of an earthquake. His hands around your wrists tightened, arms tensing. He shifted forwards, pushing your hips up, legs wider.

         And then he began to pound mercilessly into your body. You screamed, the high-pitched shrill echoing within the room, rebounding off the walls, soaking into his naked skin. Every fantasy he ever had of you suddenly came alive inside his mind, burning like a roaring fire, making his vision go blind as he pounded himself inside of you. You were so warm, so god damn tight, your pussy sucking him in with every unbridled thrust that he felt like he would break open from all the euphoria that was crackling within him.

        He called out your name, over, and over, and over again, reminding himself who he was with, who he finally had coming undone below him. He was still holding back, too afraid of breaking you, but even still his hips moved faster, harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing in his ears like the constant moans and praises that feel from your mouth.

         “Ushi, fuck, fuck, yes!”

         He was being cruel, he knew it, slamming into you like this, making your body bow into the floor, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel that coil that was tightening inside of you earlier come to fruition on his cock, he needed to spill his seed inside of you.

         You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel what was happening to you. All your focus was upon his cock stretching your pussy, filling you so perfectly that you knew you’d never want to feel another again. It was like you were made for him; all your limits were being pushed at once. Your wrists ached within his grip, surely bruising under such an immense hold, but you felt secure, safe underneath his power.

         Your knees were bent to their threshold of flexibility, your ass now well above the floor as he curled you to fit him. His cock was so deep, his thrusts now remaining almost entirely inside of you, pounding away at your insides like a man gone mad. You were at the borders of your composure.

         “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, eyes watering, mouth open, body stinging, longing, begging for him, “g-gonna, gonna, cum!”

         “That’s right,” he murmured, tongue daring to skim the shell of your ear, “cum on my cock, baby, cum for me.”

          Your nails finally pierced the flesh of your palms as you came completely undone around him, orgasm bursting forth and blooming around you in euphoria. All your senses came crashing down, every small detail becoming more alive and ever present than ever before. It was all so much, the pleasure pooling in your belly and spreading across your body faster than lightning that raced across the sky. His hot breath was against your neck, your legs aching, blood dripping down your palms, water still cooling against your skin, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. You could hear every sound: your screams ringing against the stone, his grunts into your hair, the wet suck of your pussy around his cock, even the still water resting in the pool.

          Your body was wrecked with tremors as he continued his ruthless assault, sweat beading at the nape of his neck. Your orgasm drenched his cock with thick, wet slick, encouraging him to drive a little harder, push a little deeper. He heard little pained gasps from your mouth, but he warned you he was corrupt, told you to stop him, yet you were taking him so fucking well, so fucking perfect like he knew you would. He was so close, so painfully close, his cock throbbing, his rigorous pace becoming unsettled as he felt your sweet thighs wrap around him.

          Then there it was, the sound of your voice, the sound of his goddess calling to him.

          “I want your cum, n-need it, please, fill me up, make me yours.”

          He finally crashed, your words like the irresistible call of a siren. Hot cum filled your tight pussy, his cock thumping deep inside your womb. You felt like you could breathe again, his inhuman strength finally laxing upon your ruined body.

          His mouth found yours again, his lips tender and now so familiar and welcoming. The tension in your body washed away, his loving hands tracing over your body as he allowed your legs to finally rest. Your heart was hammering in your chest; you could feel every beat inside your rib cage as you finally calmed down, mind returning, body waking up from its lust.

         Ushijima slid himself from inside of you, leaving your body with a groan of satisfaction. He watched his cum pool between your thighs, pearl white and stark against the stones. He looked up at you, all of you, admiring your spent body below him. He watched how your breasts heaved with breaths, how your eyes were blinking mindlessly up at the ceiling as you came down from your high.

        But then he recognized the bruises on your arms, the bites on your chest, the indentions of the stone upon your sides, the bloody nail prints in your open palms. He cursed himself, cursed his monstrous hands—he knew he was never meant to hold you, that he was unworthy.

        “I hurt you.”

         His simple words brought you back to reality.

         You sat up then, stretching your body as you came face-to-face with him once more.

         “Oh please.” You chided, a smile forming on your face as you cast a simple spell within your torn hands. He eyed you curiously as the blue tinge of magic twisted within your palms, your small wounds closing, even the marks upon your chest healing to a more reasonable color. They were still there, the small reminders he created, but they would fade on their own in a few days.

         You took his face in your hands, thumbs caressing his handsome cheeks.

         “No more grief, Ushiwaka. Please, for me?”

          He only drew you closer in response, cradling you in his arms.

          A few words of thanks came forth from his mouth, but you paid them little mind, too caught up in his embrace. You remained entangled in one another for a moment longer, both at ease in the company of each other’s breaths, your heart beats, the feeling of fingers skimming over skin.

        “Stay with me awhile?” You questioned softly into his chest.

        “Did you think I was going to leave after that?”

        “You always leave, you know, at some point.”

        “Not this time, my love. I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

         You both felt the pull then, the same tug that you had both longed to feel for so long.

         You were at home.

         Ushijima pulled you to your feet, wordlessly leading you to get dressed and follow him back into your great room. You saw the books still open on your desk, forlorn and nearly forgotten.

         He settled back into the chair after stoking the fire in your pit, bringing the flames back to life. He stretched out, yawned, and appeared wholly comfortable there, magnificent arms crossed upon his chest.

         You could get used to seeing him there, and you knew little by little, he’d allow you to read his pages, too.

_______________________________________________________________________

Note: I don’t own anything from Haikyuu or the Witcher Universe. 

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[flamingredanon]

A continuation of the Rave royal au: After news of the second king returning and the palace having a royal son, the Toppat Kingdom was overjoyed. A celebration was held for many days, and it seemed that people from all over the surrounding countries heard and came to the kingdom to celebrate.

Years pass, and eventually Randy and Terrence decide it’s time to retire. They’ve been ruling the land for many years, and their dear son Henry, who’s 17 now, is ready to rule, his coronation set to be on the day of his 18th birthday. It was going to be a huge event, much like the celebration of Randy’s return and Henry’s introduction to the kingdom. Word gets out about this event too, and people from all over the world are traveling to the Toppat Kingdom to witness Henry be crowned king.

On the eve of his 18th birthday, Henry wishes his dads goodnight and heads to bed, wanting to be well rested for his big day tomorrow. He notices the window open, strange, he doesn’t remember leaving it open. As he goes to close it, he’s suddenly ambushed by a group of 4 or 5 unknown men, all wearing dark blue cloaks to hide their identity. Henry puts up a fight, but eventually loses, and is kidnapped. The men grab him, stuff him in a sack, and flee through the window, escaping in the dead of night.

The next morning comes, and Terrence and Randy are down in the dining room, waiting for Henry to come down to breakfast. He’s never usually this late, so Randy decides to go upstairs to see if Henry’s just sleeping late. He wasn’t prepared for what he found in the room.

Instead of his son, Randy found his room a complete mess, the rug crumpled, books all over the floor, his wardrobe knocked over with some clothes spilling out, but the worst is what he saw by the open window. A bloodied dagger, laying by quite a large pool of what could only be Henry’s blood. Randy screams, terrified of what could’ve happened to his son. Terrence runs upstairs after hearing Randy scream, and is met with the same scene. He’s filled with grief, he’s had to deal with losing his dear husband, and now losing his only son, not knowing if he’ll ever be able to hold him in his arms again.

(sorry i got excited and went overboard lmao)

The dagger thankfully held an important clue, linking the attack to that damn Government kingdom they all hated. Which led to Terrence and Randy into believing that the dagger was left on propose, to lead the kings into a trap.

Randy paced back and forth in the royal hall while Terrence was deep in thought, both thinking about what to do. Eventually Randy came up with a plan to hire two mercenaries to rescue their son.

Soon two mercenaries, Ellie the Rose and Right the Hand, were at the castle, with King Randy explaining everything. The accepted their mission, promises of gold lining their pockets fueling them on their quest.

---

It took about three days to reach the Government Kingdom, Right already not liking how dreary things looked. Ellie snuck into the streets, gathering as much information as possible on what could be going on involving the kidnapped prince.

From what Ellie could gather, King Galeforce and his sons, Prince Reginald and Prince Charles, were going to use Henry in some ritual to make themselves all powerful. Right was horrified at this, while Ellie decided on a plan to rescue Henry.

The two snuck into the Government castle and hid in the shadows, looking at any places that young Prince Henry could be held. After awhile of searching the large castle, Right found the room, with Henry chained to the floor and fresh blood nearby.

Right and Ellie made sure the coast was clear, with Ellie on standby as Right removed the chains from the young unconscious prince. Right saw a small but precise wound near Henry's neck, having a feeling that it was done to silence Henry's screams from whatever the Government had planned.

After the finish clacking of the last chain being removed, Right tightly held Prince Henry as Ellie got her weapon drawn and ready, knowing that once they left that room, things wouldn't be so quiet.

Alarm bells and yelling rang out from the corridors, with Right and Ellie running as fast as they could. Eventually Ellie figured out the safest place to get out of the castle was the sewers, knowing that the guards would quickly overwhelm them the way they were currently going.

Right kicked opened the heavy sewer grate nearby, quickly jumping with Ellie before knocking the grate back down. Ellie chained the grate shut to buy some time and soon they were off running to freedom.

Henry stirred from his unconscious, slightly freaking out and being unable to speak. Right just let Henry know that his dads sent them, that they were here to rescue him. Henry was still shaking from everything, but calmed down in Right's hold, just weak and wanting to go home.

---

After what seemed to be forever, Right, Ellie and Henry made it out of the sewers and out of the Government kingdom. A rainstorm brewing thankfully cleaned the sewer stench off the the three, with Right still holding the weakened prince.

They still had a three day journey to get Henry back to his home, but for now in the cover of night, the mercenaries and the prince took a much needed slumber.

[gaemkyuu]

Of Kings & Queens (Part One)

Warnings: none!  A/N: Here’s the first part! This is mostly context to the story, with a sneak peak of Prince Charlie! I’ll upload a little more tomorrow! AU!Prince Charlie Gillespie x Fictional Character Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6

Four Kingdoms stood strong.  North, East, South and West.  Four Royal Families would unite the land. The Blood of Gillespie would rule the cold North, bountiful with forestry and game. The Blood of Shada would rule the Eastern coast and land, mastering the stormy seas and its’ treasures. The Blood of Joyners would rule the hot Southern lands, gathering the resources for petrol that kept the Kingdoms running. The Blood of Lee would rule the golden coast of the Western lands, providing crops and livestock to feed the people. In each Kingdom, a Ruler to bring prosperity and peace to all its’ people.

Dawn was breaking and people were already moving busily about the Western Kingdom. As more people woke, the excitement in the air increased, for today was a special day. Festivities would start early in the day and go late into the night as the Western Kingdom celebrated the coming of age the Princess. Not only was it the Princess’ birthday, it also signified that the Princess was now officially on the Royal Market, searching for a partner to become King of the Western Kingdom. Tonight’s celebration at the castle would bring people from all over the nation, including the royal families from the Eastern, Southern, and Northern kingdoms. Farmers harvested and packed their crops and livestock, Bakers made fresh delights by the dozens, Florists put out their best and brightest flowers and the Merchants polished their wares. This special occasion would bring people from all over the Four Kingdoms to their stores in celebration and vacation. All the work that was being put into the celebration brought the citizens together and united them on this special day. 

Well... At least the citizens were excited...

The Princess was awoken by her best friend and handmaiden, much to her displeasure. She groaned and pulled the covers over her head as the curtains in her room were parted, trying to ignore the hustle and bustle going around her. She knew what day it was, and this made her want to stay in bed for much longer. She even debated not getting up at all. As her handmaiden made herself busy and gave directions to other servants that had entered her room, the princess pulled a pillow over her head, trying to make it clear that she had no intention of getting up. With a heavy sigh, her confidant gave the other servants orders and ushered them out before shutting the door softly behind them.

“Liv. I love you and you know how I feel about today, but I would really appreciate it if you would cooperate so we don’t have the queen on our butts this early” the princess groaned and her best friend pulled the covers off her body. She flinched at the bright sunlight streaming into her room.

“I’m not getting up today Sav. It’s not happening” Savannah shook her head and rolled her eyes at her friend. She knew that Olivia could be quite the drama queen, but today she needed her to cooperate so that she wouldn’t fall behind schedule. Savannah glanced at the clock, already knowing that the extra 15 minutes she allotted was now gone. 

“Liv, unless you want to bathe in a cold bath, you will get up or so help me I will dump ice water on you myself!” Olivia groaned and finally sat up looking at her best friend with disdain. “Listen, I know you don’t want to do Today. I get it. But you don’t need another reason to get on the nerves of the King and Queen today” Savannah’s voice sounded slightly distressed and Olivia felt a little guilty at her dramatization this morning.

Olivia and Savannah were best friends ever since she could remember. Savannah was the only friend she had growing up in the palace and was the only friend her parents let her have that wasn’t Royalty. Sure, there were the Duchesses and Countesses of the smaller lands in the Western Kingdom, but Olivia always found them snooty or rude. Savannah’s family had been helping the royal family for generations and they were integral parts of the inner workings of the palace. Naturally, when Savannah’s parents were busy at work Savannah would wander the halls until she found Olivia. The two were like sisters and the King and Queen appreciated the hard work her family put in to serving the Royal family. 

And while the Royal family paid them handsomely while providing them lodging, Olivia couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at times when the difference in their status showed. Olivia rarely wore the same dress twice, while Savannah had a very modest and small wardrobe. Olivia had a private instructor, while Savannah went to the school with other children. But Savannah never really cared and that’s what Olivia loved about her. She was a true and honest friend who Olivia felt safe confiding in.

“Sorry Sav. I didn’t mean to make this any harder on you than it already has been” Olivia offered her friend a smile, patting the spot beside her on the bed. “Think you can spend a few minutes off your feet? Debrief me on the day if you will?” Savannah greatly accepted the spot, giving her a knowing look and a big sigh.

“Well Princess-” Olivia glared at Savannah at the title. “You need to get into the baths and get clean so I can do your hair and make up before the lady the Queen hired arrives. There is no way I’m letting you face the neighbouring nations’ heirs with makeup and hair that I don’t approve of.” Olivia laughed at Savannah’s possessiveness.

“Do we know if the royal families are coming or just their heirs?” Olivia gave a stretch, preparing herself to start the day.

“To my knowledge, just the heirs... But I hear that Prince Charles is quite handsome!” Olivia rolled her eyes as Savannah winked at her. “What? I can’t help it! You hear the chitter chatter in the palace halls. They arrived yesterday and some of the other servants have already been gushing about him. He’s apparently really charming and great husband material” Savannah saw the look of defeat briefly cross her friend’s eyes, before covering it up with an annoyed sigh. “But enough of that. Let’s get you cleaned and dressed and ready to greet our guests.”

***

“Alright Liv, take a deep breath and hold it, I’m pulling up the zipper!” Olivia did as she was told, while Savannah pulled up the zipper to her dress. She was already dreading the fact that she would have to wear the elaborate garb for several hours. Although the light blue gown was absolutely stunning and represented her fashion sense too, she didn’t expect it to come in several pieces. After putting on two layers of skirt, she had a separate top that needed to be zipped up and a cape draped over her shoulders. She could already feel the weight of the material weighing her down a bit and she sighed at the fact that they hadn’t put on her jewelry yet. Savannah and her helpers busied themselves about putting on a bracelet here and a necklace there. Another girl was putting on her earrings while the other made small hems to her dress. Olivia felt like the dolls that her and Savannah played with as little girls.

“Voila! I’ve outdone myself!” Savannah exclaimed, admiring her bestfriend’s transformation, stepping away from her so that she could see herself in the mirror. As much as Olivia didn’t want to like this moment, she couldn’t stop the smile that graced her face. Her best friend had listened to her every request about her dress. Her mother insisted that her first dress be floor length, modest and a Queen Ann neckline. She requested that the dress be midnight blue with the lace accents to be gold. Her mother criticized her colour choice, saying that dark colours were for the evening, not the morning. Olivia argued that if she had no say in the dress at all, she would go naked, a response in which her mother glared angrily at her. However, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized that Savannah had taken her mother’s requests and her requests and blended them together. She had a high waisted, A-line skirt that held the princess look her mother wanted, but it wasn’t so big that Olivia felt like a pastry. The Queen Ann neckline was a dark blue mesh with gold lace accents that extended into long sleeves for her arms. Her bodice held very little decoration as the bottom of her dress held all the royal ornate details. The velvet floor length cape was held together by a golden broach.

As per tradition, Olivia wore her family jewels. The gold diamond festoon necklace sat proudly upon her collar and the gold and sapphire earrings were prominent but not over done. A small dainty gold bracelet sat on her wrist and her family ring decorated her right hand. Her hair was neatly pulled back into a loosened braided low bun with the occasional curl framing her face.

“You’ve done a fine job Savannah” the girls jumped at the voice of the Queen. Quickly turning around, Savannah curtsied to her majesty and Olivia followed with a smaller curtsy. “Savannah, could you please grab the tiara out of the case?”

“Yes, your majesty” Savannah hurried over to the velvet case on the vanity and presented it to the Queen. The small but simple gold tiara sparkled in the light of the room. As the Queen gently picked the tiara up, Olivia bowed, lowering her head, a gesture she was all too familiar with. Her mother placed her tiara upon her head and held her face in her hands. She kissed her daughter on the head, careful not to get any lipstick on her.

“The gods have been great to bless me with a daughter as beautiful as you.” Olivia smiled at her mom, not expecting the sudden emotional tenderness she displayed. “Happy Birthday my dearest. Promise me you’ll try to behave yourself today?” Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll try” her mother chuckled softly.

“Just like your father... All I ask is that you give today a chance to be great. You might be surprised at the unexpected events that may present themselves to you” Olivia could never see herself being as polished as her mother. She knew her mother had her best interest at heart, but Olivia couldn’t help but feel like her mother was forcing her to fit into traditional roles of the Kingdom. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way to the throne room. I shall see you shortly Olivia. Savannah, please ensure that the Princess does not stall. I would hate to have her tardy for her grand entrance.”

“Yes your highness!” Savannah curtsied as her mother and the remaining servants exited, leaving the two of them in the room. “Ready to go my lady?”

“Savannah, you know you can drop the formalities around me.” Olivia stepped off the round fitting platform, Savannah catching her arm as Olivia stumbled for a moment, not used to wearing heels. “It makes me feel weird!”

“I know, but we are going to be around tons of people today and most of them would probably have my head if I called you by name in front of them. I’ll be at your side the entire time, but when others are around, you have to remember I’m your attendant” Olivia sighed in slight disappointment, but she knew her friend was right.

“How is it that you’re not the Princess and I am? You’d be way better at this than I am” Savannah giggled at her remarks and dusted her dress off before they opened the door. They knew that her royal guards were right behind it and that as soon as they exited the room, their dynamic had to change.

“Please, I can’t hide my feelings as easily as you. When I think someone is an idiot, it’s clear all over my face and I don’t even notice it!” they shared a laugh as they opened the door and officially started the day. 

But they didn’t expect to see a brown haired man zoom by them in hysterical laughter as a taller blonde man chased after him. 

“Charlie! Get back here with my crown!” and the two disappeared around the corner. Olivia blinked in shocked, trying to process whether the scene in front of her happened or not. As her and Savannah shared a look and shrugged their shoulders, they realized that today was going to indeed be very eventful.

tag list:  @ifilwtmfc

[beautifultypewriter]

Everyone Has Their Price ~ Daenerys Targaryen

Requested: Yes / by @saegerphoenix (It’s very annoying when tumblr won’t let me tag people)

Warnings: Dungeons, attempted killing, actual killing (nothing graphic), fight scene, weapons, mentions of blood, injured reader

Word Count: 1,878 (I’m so sorry)

Pairing: Daenerys Targaryen x fem!assassin!reader

Summary: The reader is tasked with a very important mission. Unfortunately, that mission is not completed as Reader gets caught before it can be carried out.

A/N: The original plan was to take this further, but once I finished writing it, I thought that any more would have ruined what I had, so here we are. Also it got way longer than I had originally planned it to be.

It was said to be a difficult job. The target was established and powerful. She had guards surrounding her at all times and the most fearless army known to Essos. They told you it would be difficult, but they clearly didn’t know you. You never lost. You wouldn’t lose now. Not with the gold that had been promised for a confirmed kill. The trip to Meereen had been a long one, but it only served to push you more. You felt invigorated when the ship you had stowed away on landed in port and you felt invincible when you managed to slip onto land and away from prying eyes. Your next step was to observe the castle; to try to get a good idea of how things worked there and when would be the best time for you to engage the target.

 It had been surprisingly easy to infiltrate the castle, posing as a kitchen servant. After spending a few days learning every passageway in the castle and learning the routine of your target, you were ready. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, this was not going to be an easy assignment, but you were most certainly capable of completing it. You smirked to yourself. You were probably the only person in Essos who was capable of completing this mission. The universe knows that many others before you have tried and failed. You wouldn’t fail.

 When night had fallen and the activity levels in the castle had died down, you decided to make your move. You had brought a single dagger with you, knowing that anything else would have been too conspicuous. Clutching the blade in your hand, you moved quickly and quietly within the shadows, straight to where you knew the target would be sleeping. You encountered a patrol only once, deciding that your best bet was to press yourself against the wall and let them pass without noticing your figure, your dark clothing helping you hide. When the coast was clear, you took off again, gliding down the last corridor before stopping across the hall from a large door where two guards were posted. Pushing yourself further into the shadows, you observed the obstacle, deciding that you should take out the one on the right first. When the other guard turned to look down the hall, you jumped from your hiding spot, grabbing the guard closest to you and sliding your dagger across his throat. He fell to the ground at your feet, alerting the other guard to your presence. He turned, but before he could draw his sword, your knife was in his stomach. He fell next to his friend as you pulled your blade back to your side and turned to the door. You knew there’d be two more guards on the inside, so you had to be ready. Letting out a breath, you readied your blade and pushed the door open. Without giving the first guard any chance, you slashed and jabbed his torso, jumping back as the second advanced on you. He swung his sword at your head causing you to duck down. You swung your leg out to kick his feet out from under him. The guard fell onto his back and you were quick to take advantage of his prone position, lunging forward and shoving your knife into his neck.

 As you stood up, you wiped the bloody dagger on your pants before moving forward, towards the raised platform where the target was sure to be. Unfortunately, as you neared her, you were faced with something you had not expected. That something was a man with his sword drawn and pointed at you. A third guard? This was unprecedented. You had only ever seen two go into the room. Your shoulders sagged as you let out a breath, “Seriously?” The man smirked at you as you got into a fighting stance, your dagger held low by your hip. Your free hand was raised above your head and you motioned for him with your fingers.

 He advanced, bringing his sword down over your head. You threw your arm up, deflecting his blow with your dagger. Spinning around, you swiped at him, catching his arm with the end of your knife, ripping his shirt and making a small cut in his skin. You jumped onto a bench, watching as he glanced at his injury before swiping his sword at you. You jumped up, the sword passing through the air under your feet, and landed on the floor on his opposite side. You had an open lane and you took it, running straight at the target, your dagger held firmly in your fist. She stepped back and you smirked. Then the man was next to you, throwing his arm out and catching you around the waist. He threw you backwards and you hit the floor hard. Trying to regain your breath, you laid on your back for a second. When you looked up the man was above you, ready to drive his sword into you. Rolling towards him, you slashed at his legs causing him to drop his sword and stagger back. You pushed yourself to your feet and ran towards the target again. This time you sidestepped the man’s arm and were able to run up the three steps to finally be face to face with your mission. She stared at you with wide eyes, her silver hair falling over her shoulders as she stepped back. Shame you had to kill her. She was a beauty. You smirked as you raised the dagger, ready to bring it down on her. Right before you could swing, though, you felt something hard collide with the back of your head. You closed your eyes against the pain as you stumbled forward. Readjusting your grip on the knife’s handle, you looked at your feet to see a metal pitcher lying there. Blinking, you looked back at the target to see her eyes flash to the man. He must have thrown the pitcher. It doesn’t matter. You were about to be out of here. You lifted your arm again, but the pain in your head was too much for you and you felt yourself falling. The last thing you felt was your dagger slipping from your hands as the coldness of the bricks numbed your skin.

 As your eyes fluttered open, your hand flew to the back of your head. You groaned as you pulled your hand back. It was clean, which was a good sign. Rubbing your eyes, you sat up on the bench you had been laying on. You were surrounded by bars. Fantastic. You chuckled quietly to yourself, shaking your head. “Something funny?” You looked over to the cell door to see your opponent from the previous night glaring at you.

 You smirked, “Nice to see you’re still standing.”

 He sneered at you, “Oh really?”

 You pulled your hair over your shoulder as you laid down again, “We’ve got unfinished business.” You closed your eyes as you propped one leg up on the bench, letting the other hang over the edge. Your hands folded and rested on your stomach, “Think I’ll get a bit more rest first.” He scoffed and you smirked.

 A new voice entered the space, “Daario, step back.” Opening one eye, you looked over to see the target standing at you cell door. The man moved back, but you noticed that he stood close. She stared at you and you closed your eye, shifting slightly on the bench, trying to get more comfortable. The target cleared her throat, “I don’t know why you’ve come to kill me and honestly I don’t care. Just know that whatever you think I’ve done-”

 Your eyes snapped open as you turned your head, “I was hired to kill you.”

 Her face maintained the neutral expression, “By who?” You had to give her some credit here. She was not nearly as frightened and doe eyed as she seemed when you encountered her last night.

 You shrugged, “I don’t ask questions. They give me a name, I complete the mission, they give me a bag of gold and I go on my way.” You smirked at her, “It’s nothing personal, sweetheart.”

 She scoffed at you, “A sellsword?”

 You sucked in a breath through your teeth, “Not my favorite term, but sure.” Your eyes moved around the cell, checking for weak points, so you could plan your escape.

 “I figured as much. No honor. No loyalty-”

 You sat up, cutting her off again, “I have loyalty.”

 She scoffed, “To who?”

 You smirked as you threw your hands out to the side, “Myself, of course.” She glared at you as you flopped back onto the bench, “No one else in this world is looking out for me, so I’ll have to do it myself.” You glanced at her and you noticed her eyes soften and her frown deepen. You shrugged, “Everyone has their price.”

 She moved closer to the bars, “And what is yours?”

 You chuckled, “More than you can afford.”

 The man didn’t seem to care for your conversation, as he stepped towards the cell, pulling his sword halfway out of its sheath, “Do you know who you’re speaking to?”

 You sighed, “Some little girl who calls herself a queen?” The man moved forward, a deep frown on his face, but he was pushed back by the target. She glared at you, her eyes full of fire. You quite liked it. You took the time to look over her then. Her silver hair was pulled back in an intricate braid and she wore a crisp gown of white. She looked more like a queen than you had originally thought. You tapped your tongue to the roof of your mouth as you stared at her.

 She leveled her voice, “I asked you what your price was.”

 “And I told you that it’s more than you can afford.”

 She held her head high as she squared her shoulders, “I can offer you a leadership position in my army. You’ll have respect and a place to lay your head. When I sail across the sea, if you help me take back my kingdom, I can offer you titles and a castle.”

 You waved your hand, “I’m gonna stop you there. I don’t care about castles, or land, or titles, or respect even. I care about gold and since you have none, I think I’ll keep my other job.”

 She shook her head, “You’ve already failed your other job.”

 You tapped your foot, “Something you should know about me, your grace, is that I never lose.” You smirked at her quickly before returning your attention to the ceiling.

 “You’ve already lost.” She motioned to the room around you, “You’re locked in my dungeon.”

 Looking over at her, you grinned, “This game isn’t finished yet. I haven’t lost anything.” You winked at her.

 She stepped back, her eyes widening, “My offer still stands.” She looked you over once before she retreated from the dungeon, her guard following close behind her. Sitting up, you watched her go, wondering if she’d add anything else to that deal of hers. You smirked to yourself as you laid down again. Silver might not be so bad.

[solarnsw]

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[team-free-will-oneshots]

Hey, could you do a Charvelle (Charlie Bradbury x Jo Harvelle) fantasy AU? Sorry I just really want one

hey, i normally only write reader-insert stuff but this was cute so imma make it a drabble! :D also i am not at all used to writing fantasy so sorry if this is bad lol

Title: Yes, My Queen

Pairing: Charlie x Jo

Words: 567

Gif by @charliebradbury-helper

The castle was silent when Jo crept inside - as the guards switched shifts, she slipped her way between the heavy oak doors, only one mission on the hunter’s mind. 

She stuck to the walls, the worn leather of her boots silently brushing over the stone. The castle was draughty, and she hugged her cloak tightly around her to stave off the chill, shifting in discomfort as the action made her quiver dig into her spine. She gritted her teeth and bore it - Jo had experienced far worse in her travels. This was nothing compared to what she’d gone through to get here.

Jo had made a living hunting ‘undesirables’ - werewolves, vampires and the like - for most of her life. Kingdoms all across the realm had hired her to defend them, and each time she’d been granted a heavy bag of gold for her deeds. But gold didn’t last long when food was so scarce, even for those considered “heroes”. And so, like many others, she’d resorted to stealing. Just a loaf of bread here, a few eggs there - but enough to taint her reputation. Not enough for people to totally dismiss her skills - she still found work every now and then - but certainly enough to force her to slip into the castle more silently than a shadow. No-one could know she was here; their doing so would jeopardise more than her own reputation.

She saw the door up ahead, and a wide grin crossed her face as she approached it, quickly glancing side-to-side in her discretion. When she was certain the coast was clear, Jo’s gloved hand found the handle, and she pushed the heavy door open with the help of her shoulder.

The moment she set foot inside, she was met with a wave of warmth. She hummed happily, kicking off her boots, dropping her bow and quiver, and shedding her gloves as she moved to stand in front of the fire and warmed her cold hands over its crackling flames. Cloaked in the room’s darkness, she jumped as she felt a pair of hands circling her waist, but quickly relaxed into the familiar embrace.

“I missed you - did you have a safe journey? I heard about the vampire a kingdom over,” a woman’s voice softly murmured.

“And I missed you. I survived - although I can’t say the same for that monster,” Jo said, smiling and turning around in the woman’s arms to greet the red-haired beauty with a tender kiss.

“Did anyone see you?” Charlie asked when they drew back for breath.

“No, my queen - our secret is safe,” Jo said, and Charlie’s lips curved into a sorrowful smile. She brushed Jo’s hair back from her face.

“I wish you didn’t have to-”

“I know,” Jo murmured, pressing closer to her in the quiet. “But we both know there’d be riots in the streets if the kingdom’s queen was caught with a thieving hunter.”

“One day we’ll-”

Jo smiled again, cutting Charlie off with another sweet kiss that left them both breathless.

“I know. But for now, let’s just enjoy this. I kinda like being your little secret,” Jo purred, and Charlie lifted a seductive brow, pulling her lover close by the waist until their foreheads were almost touching, their lips only a hair’s breadth apart.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, my queen,” Jo breathed, and Charlie smirked, crushing her lips to the hunters once more.

__________

Forever tags: @babygirloreo @calaofnoldor @stealingheartsswift13 @lmpala97 @sebastianshoe @81mysteriouslyme @castieliswatchingoverme

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5 Things You Should Know Before Hiring a Jumping Castle

Jumping castles are very common. You can see them at birthday parties, family reunions, school fetes, and other outdoor events. They are not only exciting for children, but they also provide parents with peace of mind by ensuring that their children are protected while playing on them, enabling them to socialise with other parents.

If you are an event organiser or a parent looking for jumping castles for hire on the Gold Coast, then you are making the right choice. Jumping castles allow you to host a fantastic event that will appeal to both children and adults.

However, before you hire jumping castles on the Gold Coast, you should learn a little more about them. Inflatables, like most things, come in a variety of styles and designs, and there are several factors to consider when selecting the right one for your event. In this article, we will take a closer look at each of these factors.

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For a little youngster, there are a few things one can get which can add considerably greater energy. They will not simply give the delicate surface to jump along with no injury; they likewise have extraordinary castle plan in the nurseries. There are heaps of games one can play on these castles. To make the day of your kids even uncommon, here are a portion of the astonishing approaches to appreciate with stunning games on Mechanical Bull hire Gold Coast jumping castles deal.

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Wicked Jumping Castles

Wicked Jumping Castles is a Gold Coast supplier of AMAZING and UNIQUE inflatable castles. We stock exciting inflatables to make every child’s party unique and special.   We have full Public Liability Insurance and offer a great service to our customers as we are efficient and reliable. We have been in business for 5 years now and know exactly what children are looking for when it comes to Jumping Castles.  Check out our website for more information. If you are ready to hire an Inflatable, talk to our team at Wicked Jumping Castles through Facebook or email us on info@wickedjumpingcastles.com.au, or phone us direct on 0411 178 573. One of our friendly staff will be happy to assist. 

Wicked Jumping Castles was originally published on Business directory and remarkable travel blog!

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Jumping Castle Hire Nerang and Gold Coast

At Grasshopper Jumping Castles we have a large variety of Jumping Castles to hire out to Gold Coast residents and, more specifically, the residents of Nerang.

The Nerang community has always been a community that is committed to helping each other out and ensuring that community spirit is always high. This can be seen in the way that community events are organised, weekly markets are run and the friendly locals that are always at the shopping centres or parks.

If you are a community member who is responsible for organising community events; whether that be for a local horse show, Christmas party, school fete or a family fun days you should always consider a jumping castle hire.

Jumping Castle Hire Nerang or greater Gold Coast event is the perfect way to bring people together, entertain children and provide exercise, whilst having fun, and, at the same time, a jumping castle hire can provide parents with the opportunity to sit back and relax knowing their children are having fun (and also knowing their children will sleep well that night).

Local Gold Coast sporting clubs form a vital part of any community and you’ll often see a Jumping Castle Hire company set up on carnival days or family fun days. Most sporting organisations will hire a Jumping Castleto increase the amount of people that attend and provide low cost entertainment to all the children. Generally, the more people that attend an event the more money the club or sporting association will make.

If you’re associated with a sporting club or a community group on the Gold Coast, make sure when you are planning the entertainment that you think of a Gold Coast jumping castle hire. A jumping castle hire is a low cost method to provide entertainment to your sporting event and, if you decide to charge a small fee for the children to jump on the jumping castle, everything you make after the jumping castle hire rate is profits for your club.

[asylum-ireland-blog]

Soldier, Fenian, and patriot: Recounting the life Cork's Ricard O'Sullivan Burke

New Post has been published on http://asylumireland.ml/soldier-fenian-and-patriot-recounting-the-life-corks-ricard-osullivan-burke/

Soldier, Fenian, and patriot: Recounting the life Cork's Ricard O'Sullivan Burke

Ricard O’Sullivan Burke from Cork: adventurer, soldier, engineer. One hundred and fifty years ago, he awaited trial at the Old Bailey. Robert Hume recounts his interesting life.

When Ricard was a small boy — youngest of 12 children — his family was evicted from their home in Clounyreague, Kinneigh, West Cork, where he was born in 1838.

This was perhaps because his father Denis supported Chartist agitator Feargus O’Connor. According to his father, the eviction was responsible for “the ruin of our fortunes, the scattering of our family”.

Ricard O’Sullivan Burke

Three of his brothers and a sister emigrated to England. The remainder of the family moved to nearby Dunmanway, where Ricard attended the Model School and became a monitor. He showed great talent in sketching, and developed an interest in national literature: “I read of the treachery of Irishmen at the passing of the Treaty of Union”, he wrote in his autobiography.

“[His] life was happy enough, but too tranquil” until — in 1853, when he was 15 — a couple of friends, farmers’ sons, encouraged him to “throw down his musty books”, and join the South Cork Light Infantry Militia.

Burke was stationed in Bandon, then Kinsale, and finally Limerick, where he was promoted to corporal. However, he hated the militia set-up and deserted after an officer hit him across the face for not addressing an envelope “correctly”.

Ricard boarded a steamer for Liverpool, but fearing arrest for desertion, he decided to leave England at the first opportunity, and after a month in London, sailed as a steerage passenger to America.

He was exchanging “a land that could never be other than hateful” for the country that he had dreamt of, “my ideal of free government — the refuge of my race”.

After five weeks, Burke arrived in New York, where he took any odd jobs that came his way. A sea captain paid him $100 to paint a portrait based on a photograph and was so pleased with his work that he offered the strong young man employment on his ship, the Georgette.

Adventurer

On board, Burke fulfilled almost every imaginable position, from “green hand”, able seaman, and clerk, to “leader of the orchestra”, dispenser of medicines, and general man of all work.

Ricard O’Sullivan Burke was on trial at the Old Bailey in London, 150 years ago

From 1856-58, he travelled extensively. On his first voyage, he sailed down the east coast of America to Honduras.

In a second expedition, he went in search of “the country where the streets are paved with gold, the roofs tiled with pancakes, and the rivers run red-wine”.

The carefree life at sea in warships, surveying vessels, coasters and whalers suited him. He was happy:

“I was seeing the world and I was acquiring some useful knowledge — a mastery of seamanship… an idea of astronomy, and a fluency in the Spanish language”.

Off the coast of northern California, he and other crewmates jumped ship to seek their fortune in the goldmines of Sonora. Burke led a band of sailors hundreds of miles northward. But as each day passed, their number dwindled, until only three were left.

Then he moved to southern California.

After an elderly Englishman, Icarus Taunton, nursed him through rheumatic fever, he commented: “I do not like the English nation, cannot, never did; but for individual Englishmen, I have much respect”.

Burke brushed with death again once he reached South America. In Chile, he was given poisoned red wine to drink, and he encountered an Irish colony defending itself against “unfriendly” Indians. Later, he was shipwrecked off the coast of Peru.

Further voyages took him to China, Japan, the South Pacific Islands, and the Arctic Circle.

Returning to New York, he was asked whether he had made his fortune. He replied: “I did not devote those years to money-making, but rather to sight-seeing”.

Soldier

An ardent anti-slaver, Burke joined the Unionists in the American Civil War (1861-65).

He fought in many of the major battles, reaching the rank of colonel, and surviving “without a scratch”.

After leaving the army, a New York publishing house employed him as a bookkeeper.

In 1867, he joined the Fenian Brotherhood. The burly six-footer impressed the editor of the Gaelic American, John Devoy, who spoke of him as “by long odds the most remarkable man the Fenian movement produced and also one of the ablest”.

Fenian leader Thomas J Kelly chose Burke as his deputy and sent him to England to co-ordinate a series of uprisings. Here he ran a subterfuge business in Birmingham as a cover for an arms store.

After a failed raid on Chester Castle, he returned to Ireland to organise a revolt in Waterford on March 5. When only 50 men showed up, and still fewer in Tipperary, he sent them all home.

In Sligo, Burke posed as Mr Walters, an American artist on holiday, and hired a fishing boat to keep watch for a ship bringing the Fenians 8,000 rifles from the US. The Erin’s Hope arrived two months late, and its cargo was sent back to New York.

Returning to England, on September 18, he helped plan the rescue of Thomas J Kelly and Timothy Deasy from a police van in Manchester. A police sergeant was killed during the raid.

Burke escaped from the scene but was later arrested for arms procurement, and sent to the Clerkenwell House of Detention. There he started his autobiography, Christmas Holidays in Prison.

Two audacious attempts were made to rescue him. On December 12, a barrow with a beer cask packed with gunpowder was placed against the prison wall. A fuse was lit three times but sputtered out. The following day, the barrel was positioned beside the wall again. This time it exploded. But Burke and Casey were in their cells on the other side of the building.

On April 28, 1868, Burke’s trial began at the Old Bailey. On the third day, the jury returned a guilty verdict in less than 20 minutes. Sentenced to 14 years for treason-felony, Burke was confined in Newgate Prison, before being transferred to Millbank, then to Chatham, Kent.

While at Chatham, he accused a doctor of trying to poison him with mercury. He became so ill that his death was hourly expected, and the Catholic chaplain gave him the last rites. Karl Marx interrupted a meeting of the First International to announce his reported death.

Ricard O’Sullivan Burke was on trial at the Old Bailey in London, 150 years ago

On December 10, 1869, Burke was transferred to Woking Invalid Prison, Surrey, where a fellow inmate described him as “emaciated and demented”. After a year in Broadmoor Lunatic Asylum, his brother Richard took him home to Coachford, Co Cork, to convalesce. Within two years, Burke had recovered. In 1873, he returned to US and worked as a War Department clerk, spoke at Irish-American conventions, and arranged Charles Stewart Parnell’s American tour.

In 1881, aged 43, Ricard met and eloped with 20-year-old Nora Sheehy from Fort Wayne, Indiana. They married and had two children.

Engineer

Burke’s later years were dedicated to various engineering projects. He helped construct a 800-mile railway between Laredo, Texas, and Mexico City, via Monterey; was employed as assistant city engineer in Omaha, Nebraska; supervised the sewers in Chicago; and assisted another Irishman, John Philip Holland, to build the first submarine.

Following a stroke, Ricard O’Sullivan Burke died in Chicago in 1922, aged 84, and lies buried in Mount Olivet Catholic Cemetery.

, https://www.irishexaminer.com/breakingnews/lifestyle/features/soldier-fenian-and-patriot-recounting-the-life-corks-ricard-osullivan-burke-839508.html