#My main sword display. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aemondapologistfrfr · 2 months

Text

Haunting of Riverrun

fancast!bloody ben x widow!tully!reader

Summary: After the death of her childhood love Y/n is left broken. Her parents can take no more of her moping and invite the River Lords to ask for her hand. She never thought she would find such a love again in her life until he walks into her parents hall.

Warnings: 18+ mention of death, grieving, swearing(and i think the only swear word is in my authors note 💀), teasing, oral (f receiving), p in v

Authors Note: fuck if i know why i made her a widow??, guess i wanted some hurt comfort :), soft ben bc why not, this man is down bad fr

Word Count: 4.8k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“You must remarry, I would prefer it to a house that’s close to ours, but above all I just want you to be happy, daughter. You’ve been haunting these halls after your husband’s death for too long.” my father’s words repeatedly slam into me.

“I didn’t know my bereavement had an expiration date.” I say exasperated, shaking my head at a loss.

“It’s been well over a year. War is coming for the crown and I’d like you to have the opportunity to choose your husband rather than being placed into an unhappy marriage pact for alliances and swords.” he looks to me from our house seat and my mother grabs onto his wrist supportively.

“We just wish to see your smile again.” my mother whispers to me with a soft smile.

“It sounds as if I don’t have a choice in the matter.” I shrug my shoulders, looking up at the ceiling to stop the tears that threaten to fall.

“I’ve summoned some of the unmarried Lords of the Riverlands and they’ll be here by the end of the week. Try to keep an open mind daughter.” my father looks to me and then comfortingly to my mother.

“I’ll see you for supper.” I murmur as I turn and leave the hall.

I sequester myself in my chambers for the rest of the night, even refusing to attend supper much to my parents displeasure. I know they mean well but how can I possibly think of remarrying when every time I go to sleep all I can think of is waking in the middle of the night to my husband’s dead body.

The maesters say it was overindulgence mixed with a poor heart. We were only married for one turn of the moon, but I knew him much longer than that. He was in every sense the gentleman and even waited to consummate our marriage not wanting to be presumptuous.

It was a very innocent and young love kind of marriage. I always thought my cheeks were going to split from how much he made me smile. He would whisper sweet nothings in my ear throughout court making my cheeks tint. At night he would cuddle in close and pepper kisses across my face before curling into me and drifting off to bed. I never expected it to end so quickly. So yes, I have been haunting the halls of Riverrun.

One of my maids knocks softly and enters with tea and a sleeping draft should I want it. She brushes through my hair and helps me prepare for bed. I slip under the covers and lay back ready for another fitful night of sleep.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The rest of the week goes by in a blur as gowns are being fitted and hemmed in haste for the upcoming events. I’m to be paraded around like a prized mare ready for auction. My breath catches in my throat as one of the maids pulls my corset strings tightly.

“Might we loosen it? Even just a bit?” I say trying to calm my nerves.

“Yes, my Lady. I’m sorry.” she says as I breathe out a sigh of relief as I can fully inflate my lungs again.

I’m quickly brought down to the main hall where my mother and father are sitting in the house seat waiting for my arrival. A chair has been brought in for me to sit at their side on display. My mother’s smile spreads across her face as she takes in my new gown.

“You look lovely, Y/n.” my mother coos to me.

“Thank you, mother.” I take my seat without further word.

“Bring them in.” my father calls to his guards.

The doors groan open and in walk four men. I scoff at the first two men who enter as they seem to be older than my father. The two men that follow are finally closer to my age, if not the same age as me. They all stand in a line in front of my father looking to him except one who won’t tear his eyes from me. I look him over from head to toe and roll my eyes when I see the smirk ghosting on his lips.

“Y/n?” my father says getting my attention.

“Yes?” I ask absentmindedly taking in the frustration on my father’s face.

“I asked you to introduce yourself.” he says hushed as he narrows his eyes at me.

“Have they come here not knowing whose hand they’re vying for?” I asked with a clipped tone completely over this already.

“Y/n.” my mother hisses from my father’s side.

“Good morrow, my Lords.” I sigh and look to them. “I’m Lady Y/n Tully. Tell me who you are and what you can offer me.” I tilt my head looking to them all expectantly.

The one who can’t take his eyes off of me lets out a loud laugh as the other men look to me distraught. I raise my hand in motion for them to start telling me their names and houses so we can get this meeting over with. The three men look to my father and mother for help as they fall over their words and each other in the process.

“That’s enough,” I raise my hand with annoyance. “You.” I point to the one who is smiling at me and seems to find this entertaining.

“Me?” he raises his eyebrows as his smile never falters.

“Yes, tell me your name.” I purse my lips looking him over more in depth as he steps closer.

“Lord Benjicot Blackwood, my Lady.” he says his voice smooth like butter.

“And what can you offer me, Lord Benjicot?” I lean forward and raise an eyebrow studying him.

“Anything your heart desires. Say it and it shall be yours.” he says inclining his head to me.

“I’ll have him.” I turn to my father and take in his distressed state.

“My daughter, you still haven’t-“

“No matter,” I wave off my father’s words. “I’ll have Lord Benjicot or no one.” I say with finality.

“Y/n please,” my mother’s voice begging.

“Two of these Lords are older than father and the other is just as bumbling and stuttering as them. You’ve practically made the choice for me.” I blink at them, daring them to go against what they know is true.

“At least enter a courtship first.” my mother pleads.

“I thought you wanted me out of Riverrun so I could stop “haunting the halls” I think was the way you phrased it?” I tilt my head looking to my parents.

“We didn’t mean it like that.” my mother adds with soft, sad eyes.

“Enough, this discussion can wait.” my father stands from his seat, his face red with embarrassment for this conversation in front of his vassals.

“Agreed.” I stand with my father defiantly. “Lord Benjicot, would you like to go for a walk along the river?” I ask holding my arm out for him to grab.

“I would be honored, my Lady.” he smiles and grabs my arm as we exit the main hall.

As we walk out the main doors I can practically feel my parent’s eyes burning into us. What did they expect me to do, wed an old man? I turn to the Lord on my arm and see that he’s already studying me himself. He’s actually quite handsome and I can tell he knows it by the way he carries himself.

“Tell me of your home.” I request tearing my eyes from him to look at the river beside us.

“It’s one of the oldest standing castles, dating back to the first men. We have a massive weirwood that is home to hundreds of ravens, hence the name Raventree Hall. We’re close enough to the coast where if you stand in some of the towers you can see the bay. It’s not too far from Riverrun should you get homesick.” he studies my expression, looking unsure of what to say.

“Very well.” I hum as I lead us to an unoccupied bench. “You truly wish to wed me?” I turn to him as I take a seat.

“I would be honored to have your hand, my Lady. I do not wish to force you into this marriage, should you not want it.” he bites his lip looking almost nervous.

“I must wed again.” say barely audible turning my head back to the river. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Or that I wouldn’t want to wed you. It’s just only been a year since.. It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head wishing I bit my tongue. Of course he wouldn’t want to hear about my dead husband and he’s going to change his mind and-

“Tell me of your first love.” his voice as soft as mine as he interrupts my thoughts.

“What?” my head snaps to him. “Why?” my eyebrows furrow with confusion.

“I can tell you loved him dearly. If you don’t want to you don’t have to. I just wanted to offer a listening ear.” he fidgets with his hands looking at me nervously.

“He was,” I sigh trailing off. “He was very kind and sweet. We grew up together. A young blossoming love like the books tell..” I shake my head unable to continue.

“It’s okay.” he places his hand on mine in comfort. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready or want to. I’ll be here to listen.” he smiles softly to me.

“I shouldn’t be speaking of this to you, it’s uncomely.” my voice is wobbly as my glassy eyes look to him.

“Your feelings are no burden to me. You lost a great love.” his eyes full of promise and patience.

“My parents seem to think it’s excessive. So much so that they’re pushing me off onto someone else.” tears fall down my face and I wipe them away angrily.

“I- May I hug you?” he looks to me with pitiful eyes which would normally enrage me but I could use a genuine hug.

I turn to him and fold into his embrace. His arms wrap around me tightly, protectively. Feelings of safety and comfort wash over me as I melt into him. I cling to him as tears continue to pour down my face. Gods what am I thinking sobbing into him like this.

“I’m sorry.” I sniffle pulling back. “No, I’ve got tears all over your jacket.” my voice cracks as more tears fall as I try to wave my hand to dry off the stain.

“Hey,” he tries to get my attention away from the wet mark. “Y/n it’ll dry.” my name falls off of his tongue stilling me.

“I’m sorry.” I look to him with red cheeks.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” he smiles softly to me.

I scoot closer to him as we look on at the river in front of us. We sit in comfortable silence as he allows me to grieve. Once the sun starts to dip below the horizon he escorts me back to the castle and offers me a goodnight. For the first time in many moons I tuck into bed with hope for the future and sleep restfully.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

It took me all of a week to completely fall for Ben. My ribs hurt from the laughter he’s been able to pull from me daily. My parents look at us with happiness throughout the week and finally relent and accept my leave to go to his home for a fortnight before we wed.

As we approach Raventree Hall my breath escapes me looking on at the large gates painted with moss and life. As we enter through his men greet him happily and offer me warm smiles. He escorts me into his castle and I’m entranced by its architecture and detail.

“You have a beautiful home.” I hum looking around the hall. When I finally turn back to him he’s leaning against the door frame looking at me with a soft smile.

“It’ll be your home as well soon enough.” he pushes off the doorway and walks to me.

“You haven’t decided I’m too crazy for you?” I look up to him as he approaches.

“Not anymore than I am.” a smile pulls across his face as he grabs my hand leading me out of the hall.

He gives me a full tour of Raventree Hall that ends with us in the Godswood. I’m speechless at the massive weirwood that’s a home to all of these ravens. The tree itself stands taller than the entire castle making me crane my neck to see the entirety of it. Ben leads us out of the Godswood and into the castle where we share an intimate dinner alone.

“I must admit something.” he looks to me from across the table once the servants disappear.

“Which is?” I look at him with a raised eyebrow, my interest piqued.

“I first saw you when I was just a boy. We were all summoned to Riverrun for some event I no longer remember,” he trails off, his cheeks turning red. “But I’ll always remember you. You were wearing a billowy pink dress with flowers in your hair and you looked less than pleased to be surrounded by so many people. I thought you were so perfect but I couldn’t work up the nerve to speak to you. It has always been such a regret.” Ben’s eyes look to me as the memory appears in my mind of that scratchy, terrible dress they made me wear and I giggle.

“Was I your first crush, Lord Benjicot?” a wicked smile appears on my face as his cheeks turn a darker shade of red.

“You’re never going to let me live this down.” he groans covering his face, peeking at me through his fingers.

“Not anytime soon.” I hum as I pull his hands away from his face.

“Your parents say you’ve been haunting Riverrun, but you’ve been haunting my dreams for much longer.” he says intertwining our fingers looking to me.

“I’m sorry I’ve caused you so many years of restless sleep.” a smirk plays on my lips as I squeeze his hands.

“You’ll have plenty of restless nights coming up.” he winks at me causing my cheeks to catch on fire.

“Ben,” I gasp scandalously as he chuckles at me.

“I’ll never tire of my name on your tongue.” he smiles and leans back in his chair watching me.

We finish our dinner with palpable tension as we steal glances at one another. He escorts me to my chambers through the silent halls. The castle seems to already be asleep for the night as we linger, not quite ready to leave each other’s company.

“Let your guard know if you need anything. Although, my chambers are right down the hall if you need me.” he looks at me with low lids and a lazy smile.

“Then I’ll know which direction to begin my haunts during the hour of the wolf.” I smile up at him as he chuckles and shakes his head.

“I’ll make sure to leave my doors unlocked for you.” he winks, reaching behind me to open my chambers for me.

“I’ll see you in your dreams.” I whisper before whisking myself into my chambers and sealing myself behind the doors before he can see the extent of my blush.

I take in my chambers and smile at the warmth and new beginnings they carry. I begin to change into my night dress and retire to my bed. I figured it would feel weird sleeping in a home that’s not mine but all I feel is excitement for what the next fortnight will hold. I fall asleep with a smile etched on my face.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The first week at Raventree Hall was full of innocent glances and hand holding but there seems to be a rise in tension between us in our last week before we wed. We constantly tease each other and seem to always be touching each other whether it be his hand on my back or mine on his arm.

I exit my chambers early this morning to explore the halls and yards on my own. I stop in the Godswood and look upon the ravens that fly about the grounds. I slowly make my way to the training yard to watch Ben work alongside his men. I haven’t had the courage to come down here and watch him but my curiosity is getting the better of me.

As I turn the corner I’m greeted with grunts and clashing swords. My eyes dart around the yard until they land on a shirtless Ben. Gods this is why I never came here to watch him because I know I look like a lovesick puppy. I claim a seat on the outskirts of the circle near Ben and silently watch him train.

He is a true leader to his men and is actively cares about their advancement. I sit with a smile painted across my face as I watch his muscles flex deliciously. His eyes finally land on me and his face lights up as he jogs over to me.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Y/n.” he looks down at me with hungry eyes as I continue to lounge in my chair.

“Am I not allowed to look upon my betrothed?” I blink up to him innocently.

“Shall I remove more layers so you can look upon the rest of me.” he chuckles lowly as my cheeks inflame.

“Benjicot Blackwood.” I hiss as I quickly rise and cover his mouth with my hand. He chuckles into my hand and grabs my wrist to lower my hand.

“You get flustered so easily.” he says lowly, trailing his fingers up my arm causing me to shiver. “Do you enjoy watching me train?” he dips down to whisper in my ear to which I nod not trusting my voice.

His confidence is so exhilarating. I feel my blood thrum in his presence in anticipation for anything he does. I never thought I would feel the life brought back to me. He pulls back much to my quiet displeasure and looks at me with a serpentine smile.

“You can come and watch me whenever you please. I’ll have a chase brought out for you, I wouldn’t want you to get uncomfortable while you fantasize about me.” he teases as I roll my eyes and turn to walk away without another word.

“I’m sorry.” he breathes out as he turns me around to find a smile on my face and he sighs out in relief. “Mm, in that case do you want to share your fantasies with me?” this man is absolutely relentless.

“Maybe when we aren’t around so many eyes.” I shrug him off with a smirk of my own and continue to walk into the case.

As I continue inside the doors I hear his men laugh at him for scaring me away and I can’t help but chuckle myself. I don’t know how I’ll ever get used to his teasing and not turn into such a blushing mess. I’m quite excited to be wed to him because there’s never a dull moment.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“My wife,” Ben whispers down to me softly before he captures my lips for the first time at our ceremony.

I feel as if my heart is going to burst out of my chest as I sigh into his mouth. He pulls me closer as my arms wrap around his back. I care not of the audience watching us as I allow myself to indulge in my husband. We pull apart and he offers me one more chaste kiss before we turn to the crowd with red cheeks.

I turn to my parents and see my mother all but sobbing and my father with watery eyes standing tall next to her. I chuckle at them as we descend from the alter. Ben twirls me around the open dance floor before bringing me back so we can share our first dance.

My body is buzzing with anticipation as Ben glues me to his body as we begin. I look up at him through my lashes as cups my face. He offers me a soft kiss as we continue to sway to the soft music.

The celebrations go on long into the night. Ben and I try to sneak off a handful of times but got lured into conversations as we tried to make our escape. As the crowd begins to slow we are quick to slip away and rush into the castle.

Ben’s hand grips mine as we run through the front doors trying to stifle our laughter so we don’t draw attention to us. He pulls me up the stairs after him silently. We come to a stop in front of his chambers both of our chests rising and falling rapidly.

“My chambers or yours?” he licks his lips looking down at me.

“I thought your chambers were mine now, husband?” I tilt my head with a smile.

His lips crash into mine causing me to squeak in surprise. He smiles into the kiss before pulling us inside our chambers. He pulls us apart and seals the chambers shut and turns to me with dark eyes. He stalks over to me and his hands pull my closer by my waist.

“This is a beautiful dress. May I take it off?” he whispers as he starts to kiss my neck. His hands trail to my back waiting at the strings for my word.

“Yes,” I breathe out as his fingers begin to unravel my dress. He pulls back to help me step out of it leaving me in my silk slip. He looks at me hungrily as his hands slide back to my waist. I bring trembling hands to his jacket and begin to unbutton it.

“Do I make you nervous?” I can tell he’s smirking without even looking at him. His hands go to mine to steady them before taking over and removing his jacket the rest of the way.

“Don’t tease me.” I pout as I begin to unbutton his shirt.

“So eager to see me shirtless again?” he chuckles as he pulls his shirt over his head quickly.

“I will make you sleep in the guest chambers.” my eyes narrow on him as I push his chest.

“Is that truly what you want?” he tilts his head smugly.

“No.” I cross my arms.

“Oh come here.” he relents and pulls me to him once more.

He dips down and encases my lips with his. He licks along the seam and I open my mouth and his tongue is immediately dancing with mine. I melt into his touch and gasp out in surprise as his hand travels to my thighs and they clench shut. He pulls back breathlessly and looks to me with low lids.

“Have you been touched before?” he asks without his teasing tone for once as his hands return to my waist.

“No.” I shake my head with burning cheeks.

“Would you like to be?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” I answer faster than I would’ve liked.

His lips find mine again as his hand finds its way between my thighs. I whimper into his mouth as his fingers trail through my wetness. He continues with one tortuous finger until he decides to swirl against my clit.

“Ben,” I cry into his mouth as my legs threaten to give out.

“Let’s go to the bed.” his voice laced with desire.

Once we make it to the bed he slowly lifts off my slip and helps me back on the bed. He begins to remove his pants as I gaze up at him with heavy eyes as I take in the rest of his body. My legs squeeze in anticipation looking at him on full display. We shameless drink in each other’s body admiring.

He climbs into bed and hovers above me for a moment before he fiercely kisses me once more. His hand makes its way back between my legs as his teeth nip at my bottom lip. His fingers begin to circle my clit once more causing a moan to tear through me.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” he whispers before he attaches is mouth to my neck.

“Yes, Ben,” I whine as my legs begin to shake.

His fingers continue to slide through my wetness as his kisses begin to trail down my chest. I suck in a large breath as he takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. He leaves wet kisses across my chest as he makes his way to my other breast. His deft fingers find their way back to my clit as he offers this nipple a playful bite causing me to arch up into his mouth.

He chuckles lowly as he begins to kiss down my torso until he’s watching his hand pull pleasure from body. I moan out in frustration as his finger slips away from my clit once more. I whimper as his tongue begins to lap against my clit as my thighs start to clamp around his head. He chuckles into my core before holding my thighs open to lose himself in me.

“Ben, please,” my hips grind against his face as one of my hands fly to his hair.

A sob tears through me as I explode all over his tongue as he continues his assault. He pulls his mouth back but continues trailing his fingers down my sensitive center. He looks to me and watches me as my legs twitch when his fingers pass over my clit. As his finger slides down it circles my entrance and begins to dip in. My hips lift off the bed wanting more of his fingers as he groans looking at me.

“Gods you’re perfect.” his voice dripping with devotion as he slips his finger the rest of the way in.

He leans down and entangles us in a kiss as his finger begins to pump into me. He teases a second finger and I moan into his mouth as he pushes them both into me. He holds his forehead to mine as I pant while my hips begin to chase his fingers for more. His thumb makes its way to my clit as his begins to move his fingers faster.

“Yes, Ben please,” he groans at my words and kisses me hard.

His fingers begin to curl as he pushes them into me faster. I clench around his fingers as I let go once more, losing myself to all of the pleasure he offers me. He slowly removes his fingers and I whine into his mouth at the loss.

“I need to be in you.” he breathes deeply as he settles between my legs. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him down to me. “Someone’s impatient.” he chuckles against my lips.

“You can still go to the guest chambers.” I scold breathlessly as his length presses against my core.

“I wouldn’t dare leave my wife so needy.” he pecks my lips as he begins to line himself up at my entrance.

He watches my face as he slowly pushes into me. My eyes flutter shut as I feel the burn of his delicious stretch. My hips begin to rock against his and he grinds into me deeply. My hands fly to his back as his continues is slow moments as my nails dig in.

He begins to rock his hips slowly getting faster. Moans fall from my lips freely as his hips snap into mine. Our breathes become one as pleasure washes over us. His hips falter as cry out his name coming around him with tears in my eyes. His hips still as he fills me with my name on his lips.

He kisses me softly as he pulls out and lays next to me. I curl into his side as he smooths my hair. Ben pulls a blanket over us as my eyes get heavier.

“Shall I go to the guest chambers?” he chuckles lowly as I groan in annoyance.

“I should make you go out of spite.” I huff pulling him closer to me anyways.

He kisses my head once more as we slowly begin to drift off.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Masterlist

#benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #benji blackwood #benjicot blackwood #ben blackwood x reader #bloody ben x reader #x reader smut #x reader fic #x reader imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #got smut #game of thrones smut #game of thrones fic #bloody ben smut #bloody ben fluff #soft ben blackwood #why tf am i like this

366 notes · View notes

marionthegeek · 11 months

Text

Stede is in the Gravy Basket, Izzy is Alive

The season 2 finale of Our Flag Means Death is odd. It hits weird. I think I know why. And this is going to sound bananas, but give me a chance to explain. Maybe you’ll agree.

It has a huge tonal shift. It seems to speedrun Stede and Ed’s romance. It feels like we’ve missed out on something from the end of episode 7. The fight scenes and pirate plans are nonsensical, even for OFMD. And most egregiously, a prominent character is killed off in a way that feels disingenuous to his story arc, just for starters.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. We need to go back to the beginning of season 2. The season opens with Stede looking more piratey than ever. Beard, sash, earring… oh he’s his own fantasy of a real proper pirate. He’s clashing swords with Izzy Hands and demanding to know where Ed is. He’s dreaming. In the dream he kills Izzy. He and Ed run into each other’s arms while screaming each other’s names. They crash into the surf. Ed says “I knew you’d find me, Babe. I knew you’d find me, Love.” Stede keeps asking if they’re good. Ed dodges the question. Then Ed asked about the smell. Stede wakes up in a crowded room with farting and shushing roommates.

At first I thought the finale was supposed to be just a “satisfying” mirror to Stede’s dream. Stede and Ed call each other’s names and run into each other’s arms in a display that resembles a more grown up version of Stede’s dream fantasy. There’s some wild sword fighting not unlike Stede’s dream duel with Izzy. And Izzy dies.

It does mirror, but I didn’t find it satisfying. All of the characters except Stede feel flattened. Stede gets to make the heroic plan (that we never even hear) while there’s at least five pirates with better skill sets for it in the room. Ed, as Blackbeard, was described last season as “History’s greatest tactician”; Zheng Yi Sao conquered China; Jackie just took out a room full of British soldiers. Izzy and Auntie are right there. You could make arguments that Jim or Frenchie, or pretty much anyone could make a better plan. Then Stede says “It’s only suicide if we die,” which is horrible considering the plan gets Izzy killed.

Stede’s really the only person in that room who thinks Stede should be making the plans. So I got to thinking, what if it's not just mirroring the dream? What if it is a dream? Last shot of episode 7 is an incoming cannonball. Maybe he’s unconscious.

Huge shout out to @Arty_Sunflowers on twitter (I’m not calling it X, fuck Musk) for pointing out that that isn’t the only episode that ends with a cannonball. Episode 2 ends with Jim swinging a cannonball down at Ed’s head. Stede’s not just dreaming, he’s in the Gravy Basket!!!! (Stede even screams “Oh my God!” at the end of episode 7 in the same tone he screams “Oh my God, I don’t want to die.” in s1e9.

Stede’s hopes, dreams, and insecurities shape everything in the finale. And it helps explain the absurdities in the episode when you remember that Stede is living out pulp adventure and romance novels in his head. (He even looks like someone on the cover of one in his episode 1 dream.) But Stede can’t be dead, you say. He’s literally the main character. Well, Ed was dead for a whole episode. Let’s take a closer look.

I could and probably will do another essay on Lucius as a POV character and Ed’s mental health and how the threads they seemed to have dropped aren’t as dropped as they appear. But all of that hinges on me proving the Stede is in the Gravy Basket theory. So for this essay I’m focusing on that.

So for starters we’ve got the cannonball scenes. They’re eerily similar even if the method of cannonball propulsion is different. We don’t know Ed is dead and in the Gravy Basket for about half of episode 3. Neither does he. It makes logical sense you can be there without realizing it for a while. Buttons even said Ed didn’t know whether he was in the Gravy Basket or not in episode 4. It definitely messes with your reality.

One of Ed’s issues is self hate. He manifests Hornigold as his companion. Stede is desperate to be a good pirate and have people be proud of him. And he lives in his fantasies a lot. So his dream shapes his experience. There’s a whole bit about Zheng needing “soft” and Auntie saying she’s proud of her. That isn’t their issue. It’s discordant with the show previously. But it is Stede’s issue. He’s manifesting.

When we first see Stede and Zheng in episode 8, they’re in a familiar spot for Stede, the bridge from episode 1. But why are they alone? When we last see Stede and Zheng in episode 7, several characters are within 5 to 10 feet of them. Did none of them decide to escape with Stede? Izzy, Lucius, and Jim are closest. But we know Pete was there begging Stede to stay down during his fight with Zheng. Archie was definitely in the bar. That's why Jim entered the fight. So why is it only Stede and Zheng at the bridge? Because, going back to rescue others fits into Stede's hero fantasies.

Zheng and Stede also argue about who pulled who to safety and how they got there. Stede waxes poetic about being a failure his whole life, but things always seem to work out for him. He’s such a main character mediocre white guy in this scene. He saves Zheng from two random soldiers, then she has to save him from them. Then they fight a bunch more soldiers on the beach until Blackbeard manifests in full leather from the ocean. It looks cool. But it's absurd, even for OFMD.

Speaking of Ed, he begins the episode waxing poetic about nature and calling fishermen simple. Those things are more Stede than Ed. Pop pop tells Ed, “You have no skills” which is something Izzy said to Stede in episode 5. He also tells Ed, “If you were ever good at something, go do that, you bum.” If Stede’s insecurities could be distilled into one sentence, it would probably be that. (He also talks about being like a wave. I’m not 100% sure it's a The Good Place joke, but it would be thematically appropriate.)

Pop pop also tells Ed he “ruined dinner.” Back in season 1, in Stede’s flashbacks to life with Mary and the kids, Stede thinks he’s ruined dinner. But remember, we also see another version of the scene where Stede is laughing with Mary and the kids. Stede isn’t exactly a reliable narrator. Even in his own head.

Despite it being beyond unlikely, Ed finds soldiers reading one of Stede’s letters. I know physics in this show is sketchy, but this seems like a good time to point out no one found the red silk. Stede wants Ed to read a letter and for it to fix everything between them. The letter, plus Stede being in danger, make Ed swim out, find his leathers, and emerge from the sea with them on, while the music is the Swede’s solo from Stede’s fuckery in s1e6. Stede wants to be rescued by his handsome pirate in leather, again, just like a pulp adventure romance novel. Little chance of Ed swimming out and finding his kit. Even less of him getting leather pants on under the water.

Back to the beach… for some reason two squads of soldiers are wandering around out on an empty beach. A visually incredible fight scene occurs. It honestly reminds me of Pete’s story in s1e2, including flips. Ed and Stede yell each other’s names exactly as in the dream. Like I’m pretty sure they used the same audio track. The same song (I Love My Baby, Nina Simone) starts playing. Ed says “I love you.” Stede says “I know.” (We’ll come back to the Han Solo joke in a minute.) They have a bit more absurd fighting then Ed, Stede, and Zheng sit on the beach complimenting each other. And Ed calls Stede “babe”. He’s never done that outside of Stede’s dream and this moment. He’s called him mate a couple of times. Babe is exclusively in Stede’s head.

Back in the Republic of Pirates, the crew are locked in a cell that is actually the “vista suite” at Spanish Jackie’s. Izzy gets a heroic entrance. It’s as cool as Stede thinks Izzy is. And he gives a speech that sounds like what he probably told Stede to get him to relinquish the suit in episode 5. Piracy is about belonging to something. You can’t ignore the wishes of the crew. Izzy also knows details about Captain Kidd and Pinocchio. Not impossible, but not exactly Izzy’s wheelhouse. It is Stede’s though. He’s obsessed with pirate tales and he read Pinocchio to the crew.

Stede, Ed, and Zheng show up just as Jackie has poisoned a bunch of soldiers. Stede makes a plan, despite everyone else being more qualified. Everyone disguises themselves as soldiers. Now we’ve seen the crew of the Revenge wear disguises. They never do the weird free styling they do here. Only Stede actually looks like a British officer. Zheng at least wears the disguise properly. Suddenly Ed has a multi gun bandolier like Blackbeard in the books. Pete ripped the arms off. Izzy is still wearing his vest. Doesn’t make sense if we’re going for stealth. Neither does not checking hostage Ricky for weapons or putting Izzy and his wooden leg at the front of the group.

If I'm right, Stede wouldn't know Ricky was behind the explosions. However, Ricky is basically evil Stede. He's Stede's perfect foil. All of this is reflecting Stede's psyche. So, of course, it's Ricky.

Izzy gets shot and says quite a lot of nonsense in his death scene. “They love you, Ed.” Um, 3 of them were going to leave like five minutes ago. Ed has made some progress with the crew, but we’re not at “they love you Ed”. The only person who thinks the crew loves Ed is Stede. Stede who weeps for Izzy while most of the crew aren’t showing much emotion. Stede can barely deal with his own big feelings. His fantasy doesn’t give the crew room to have them. Also, given the rest of the season, having Jim just let Ed be the person cradling Izzy doesn’t fit. The crew is also pretty stony at Izzy’s funeral.

I feel like it should be noted the last shot of Izzy in episode 7, he’s got one are around Jim and a hand on Lucius’s shoulder. He sat in Wee John’s lap in episode 6. Reactions to his death don’t make sense.

Also, Izzy’s terrible grave marker is very … Stede. He’d think it was a brilliant idea.

I didn't understand at first why Izzy had to die, even in Stede's dream world. Stede clearly likes him a lot better now. Why kill him? Well, it's because we're supposed to think Buttons is there to go to the Gravy Basket for Izzy. When actually he's already arrived in the Gravy Basket and he's there for Stede. Also, mentors die in pulp adventure novels. Stede sees Izzy as a mentor.

They go aboard the Revenge for Lucius and Pete’s wedding. It’s cute that the crew performs the ceremony, but I’d venture a guess that’s because Stede doesn’t know a captain should do it if it's legally binding. Stede does love the romance of it all. The sudden uptick in monogamy is also very Stede. He barely understands monogamous relationships. Polyamory is beyond him.

Then Stede and Ed, who earlier told Zheng they’d help hunt Ricky, go back to the island where Izzy is buried to start an inn in a run down shack. Stede knows Ed wants to do this because Ed told the (Taika’s) kids that they ran an inn. We hear Ed ask “Jesus, what is that smell?” Now, at first, I thought Izzy, because Ed “knows the smell of my rotting first mate”. But what was the last thing to happen in Stede’s dream? A fart joke.

Last scene is Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave. To retrieve Izzy from the Gravy Basket? No, Izzy’s not dead. He’s with Jim and Lucius, probably watching over Stede’s corpse. Buttons is there to retrieve Stede.

This theory fixes the plot holes and dropped threads problem. We’re coming back to them next season. Ed's amends making should be far from over. And we see several moments during the season where he acknowledged that. And yet here on the island they've set up a horror movie and called it a happy ending. Well, Stede is the type of boss who thinks things are fixed with a pizza (Calypso) party. In Stede's mind, this is a happy ending. But really Ed is still off finding himself, Stede is (temporarily) dead, and Izzy (who is not dead!) is probably guarding Stede's corpse.

They haven't resolved the domestic violence thread, but they haven't dropped it, either. Izzy is alive. Stede and Ed aren't together (yet). There's still time.

This also explains some of the freewheeling nonsense David Jenkins has been spouting in articles. Ed doesn’t see Izzy as a father figure and mentor, Stede does. Stede almost turned to mush when Izzy approved of him. And David is writing a three volume adventure novel. Han Solo (Stede) is in carbonate (the Gravy Basket). The perfect end to the second act. See, I told you we’d get back to the Han Solo joke.

I still have problems with the season. I really think they need a sensitivity reader. Even just implying a newly disabled character was fridged is certainly a choice. Especially given the amount of time devoted to how the character handled the disability. The DV scenes were brutal, as well as the suicide attempt, and the Human Puppet joke. I think they need someone trauma informed and disabled in the writer's room. (David Jenkins hit me up!)

Overall, I liked season 2. Especially once I realized Izzy wasn't dead. I'm looking forward to season 3, the conclusion of the Gentle Beard arc, and hopefully 6 seasons and a movie of Izzy (to be clear, he's not captain) and the kids sailing up and down the coast being gay and doing crimes, occasionally checking in with Stede and Ed.

Seriously, David, call me.

Historical Note: IRL Blackbeard died on November 22, 1718, killed in a naval battle off Ocracoke Island in North Carolina. IRL Stede Bonnet died December 10, 1718, hanged in Charles Town, South Carolina for piracy. IRL Israel “Izzy” Hands survives piracy, death date unknown. I know this show doesn’t actually care about historical accuracy, but this lends a little support for my Ed died, then Stede died, and Izzy isn’t dead theory.

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #stede bonnet #gravy basket #Izzy Hands lives #David Jenkins I just want to talk

691 notes · View notes

thealexanderfiles · 6 months

Text

there is too much sword fighting in xianxia novels. i propose a main character who is completely average at swordplay but is skilled in hand to hand fighting. so they decide to use this as a trump card, and not really display their abilities.

bonus points if this scene is included:

opposition, pointing their sword at MC's throat : It's over. you have lost your sword, you are kneeling at my feet. i have won-

MC: wow your knees look really breakable down here

opposition: what

cutscene to MC pinning opposition in chokehold

#and then they kissssssss #no cause this goes against most of what ive read about this genre #enemy: mwah ha ha ive disarmed you-#mc: not literally bitch #*decks them*#shen yuan #mdzs #wei wuxian #wei ying #shen qingqiu #tgcf #xie lian #im actually not that exposed to many xianxia novels #SOMEONE decided to introduce me to tgcf and now im broke but broke with mxtx's books #you know who you are #svsss

262 notes · View notes

paceprompting · 17 days

Text

in the spotlight

First fic for @steddiesmuttyseptember!

(playful) Make-up sex | service dom | mile high club | pillow princess

rated: m | 4281 words

🍂

“I cannot believe you!”

Eddie stormed through the front door of the trailer and left it flung open behind him. He tossed his bag onto the couch, dice clattering and papers crumpling inside as it hit the edge of the cushion and then thumped to the floor. Eddie ignored it, making a clear path to the fridge to crack open a Coke.

Steve followed behind, wearing the same pleased-with-himself smile that he had been for fifteen minutes. He closed the door and stood in the living room, hands tucked into his front pockets. Standing there in his striped polo shirt and fitted jeans, staring at Eddie as though he hadn’t just derailed Eddie’s entire campaign.

That villain was supposed to last them through three more sessions and now, poof, defeated. Gone. Finito.

Eddie took a deep swig of his drink, fighting back to urge to cough when it went down rough.

“I cannot believe you,” he repeated, softer this time. And Steve still just smiled and ducked his head, because he knows what he did, damn it, and he still hadn’t apologized for it.

Steve tipped his head up, putting on display the moles scattered across his throat. He rolled his shoulders and then once again met Eddie’s gaze, still smirking. Still an asshole. He was beautiful, but Eddie was fighting quite hard to ignore that.

“Eddie, you asked me to play,” he said.

“Well, I didn’t think you were going to figure out my big villain’s weakness in two turns.” Eddie groaned and set his soda on the table, liquid spilling over the top onto the table. He ran furious fingers through his hair, lucky that none of his rings caught and yanked. “I worked on that thing for two weeks!”

And then, he’d had to ride in the passenger seat of the Beemer—because Steve was a decent boyfriend, damn him, and offered to drive Eddie. Steve had sent his campaign into utter collapse and then afterwards still made sure to get the door for Eddie and let Eddie grumble and mumble to himself the whole way home until he was ready to blurt it all out.

The entire time wearing his pleased little smirk.

“You can’t be mad that I defeated the bad guy. Mike roleplayed for fifteen minutes trying to get that sword he thought was secretly magic. I thought Dustin was going to claw his eyes out.”

Eddie did nearly chuck dice at Wheeler’s head when he refused to get the hint that there was nothing for him in that shop. But he was a decent DM, if he did say so himself, and he decided to wait properly until there was something in game that he could use to target Wheeler’s character. Not to kill him, just a slight maiming to remind him that he wasn’t the main character.

Until Steve Harrington just…Steve Harrington.

“And I would have properly punished him with a thorough smack-down, if someone hadn’t killed the villain first!”

Steve snorted and Eddie rolled his eyes. They’d had worse fights than this—arguments that were actually fights and not Eddie trying to keep his dignity without being a brat. Because it wasn’t the end of the world, but that wasn’t the point.

“It was a lucky shot. You can’t be upset about a guess,” Steve was saying, his shoulders coming down at the end of a shrug that Eddie had nearly missed.

And fuck yes, he could. Two rounds into combat, Steve pulled out a bow that shot frozen arrows and uncovered the key weakness to Eddie’s main villain! Of course, Eddie had forgotten that Steve’s character had gotten that weapon because he never used it. It was supposed to be something that the party learned over time.

God, Eddie had wanted Steve to try playing D&D so badly, he hadn’t stopped to think that it would mean Steve would be playing in front of him. Where Eddie had the best seat to see the whole table and never miss a single thing that Steve did: rolling dice, taking notes in his chicken scratch, and describing in detail how his character moved through Eddie’s world. Strong hands gesturing and flexing and—

Fuck. Focus.

“I’m not upset you beat him.” Eddie twisted the ring on his middle finger, stopping only when it caught on the tender skin. “I’m upset that it was hot!”

“Um,”Steve said, staring. “What?”

He let his hand fall from his pockets, brow furrowed in the way it did when Eddie’s strange behavior threw him for a loop. Steve knew what he looked like, knew where it could get him when he put it to use—but only when he was trying to get that attention. When he wanted to get the girl or get into bed, and he put on his best Harrington charm to do so.

He was never trying to entice Eddie while playing a nerdy little game with their flock of sheep, and that was almost worse. He wasn’t even trying, and still Eddie had nearly jumped his bones right there at the table.

Eddied started pacing in front of Steve, and the trailer didn’t creak like the old one used to, but Eddie’s steps were still heavy on the linoleum. “I asked you how you wanted to kill the monster. Yeah, I was already a little annoyed—”

“A little,” Steve echoed with a gentle tease, stepping close to Eddie and absolutely trying now. Ducking his head so his perfect hair fell just into his eyes and his voice dropped low and filtered into Eddie’s bloodstream.

And Steve had already derailed one set of Eddie’s plans tonight. Eddie wasn’t just going to let him do it again.

“Very annoyed that you’d beaten my villain and you’d rolled a damn nineteen to do it. And then you opened your mouth.” Eddie spun on his heel, pressing his hand against Steve’s chest and pushing back. Steve’s eyes widened as his surprise allowed Eddie to corral him against the front of the fridge and press the lines of their bodies together.

He started breathing a little harder, chest rising under Eddie’s palm, but he grinned all the same. It nearly floored Eddie every time, not only getting to see the expression up close, but because it was for him. The Freak somehow managed to get his hands on something beautiful, and he still wasn’t quite sure how.

Eddie curled his fingers into the fabric of Steve’s shirt, leaning into him. Smiling himself when Steve’s hand came up to rest on the side of Eddie’s ribs, holding him close. Eddie tipped his chin up to murmur against Steve’s mouth, just on this side of not really being a kiss.“And I forget sometimes that you know what you’re doing. That you’ve fought real monsters and, fuck, between the way you described the killing blow, using your hands to show me just how you’d do it, and seeing how far you’ve come from when you started.”

Steve blushed, a bright coloring across his cheeks, and let out a soft laugh. Almost self-conscious. Because Steve hadn’t been good at D&D, not at first. And he’d known that. The kids had known. He’d had to make mistakes in front of them to learn, starting timid and quiet until the party proved they were more likely to smack Mike upside the head for opening his big mouth than they were to get after Steve.

And he’d done it.

“You might even rival me as a DM one day if you keep it up,” Eddie said. Steve laughed again, but Eddie didn’t.

If it ever happened, he might have to tie himself to his chair to keep from launching himself at Steve, but he’d be the first one at the table for a Steve Harrington campaign. And he’d finally get to be back on the other side of flirting with the DM.

“Oh, I’d never take that from you. I could never keep it all straight,” Steve said, sliding his hand up from Eddie’s ribs to cradle the side of his jaw. He slipped his fingers into Eddie’s hair, deep into the curls and always on the right side of Eddie’s face to avoid where there had been a tender, healing wound where now there was a scar. He could touch it now, if he wanted to. But he never did.

“I wish you could see yourself sometimes; I get so caught up watching you I realize I wasn’t even listening. Which was fine when I wasn’t playing, and now I have to catch myself before you catch me not paying attention.” Steve pressed their foreheads together, always so warm and solid. Helped to keep Eddie together when physical therapy felt worse than all the bats trying to eat him.

Eddie preened at Steve’s admission. For anyone else, he would make sure to put on a show of idle threats about not giving their full attention to all his hard work. But that wasn’t completely fair to Steve, not when Eddie had just pinned him against the fridge because he was so hot and bothered from listening to Steve’s description of slaying a lizard king.

“Feeling’s mutual, babe,” Eddie murmured, going in for a kiss.

Steve’s hand tightened in Eddie’s hair, stopping him in his tracks. He didn’t yank or pull, just a soft pulse against his scalp followed by the warm embrace of Steve’s arm around Eddie’s waist. He fit his thigh between Eddie’s legs to settle them better, and then titled Eddie’s head to plant a soft kiss.

Eddie rolled his eyes before he closed them, moving his mouth along with Steve, his hands holding onto the front of his polo shirt. He arched his back to get closer to Steve, parting his lips in hopes of a little bit of tongue, but Steve denied him and pulled away instead. His head knocked lightly back against the fridge.

“Just had to be you who started it, huh?” Eddie teased.

Steve lolled his head in Eddie’s direction, pupils dark and dilated. He quirked the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Eddie drawled, but he didn’t get much farther than that before Steve hooked his ankle around Eddie’s and switched their positions, directing Eddie against the counter beside the fridge. The chain hanging from his belt loops smacked into the cabinets. But honestly, most of the furniture in the trailer had already been through worse between his and Steve’s activities and Eddie’s general lack of spatial awareness.

Steve put his thigh back between Eddie’s legs, and there was no way he couldn’t feel just how worked up he’d been since Hellfire, especially now that he had all of solidly muscled and warm Steve Harrington pressed up against him. He moved his hands out of the way, holding on the edge of the counter. He gave a pleased moan when Steve moved closer, closer and placed his lips at the curve of Eddie’s ear, brushing curls out of his way with his nose.

“But you had fun?” he asked, soft and low.

“For the most part.” Eddie tilted his head, silently asking for Steve’s mouth. More, always more. Because he somehow hadn’t found Steve’s limit on what he’d give.

He felt the puff of Steve’s breath against his skin. Shivered when Steve’s hands untucked his shirt from his jeans and eased underneath the fabric on the rough pattern of Eddie’s skin. He’d never wanted anyone to touch, to see what had happened to his body, but Steve had never asked. He let Eddie direct his hands there the first time and the few more times after until Eddie told him Fucking touch me already, I need your hands on me, Harrington.

“Feeling like you were in control? Getting to direct me around, at the whim of the DM?” Even though Steve was talking of Eddie’s domain over the party’s adventure, he cupped his hands underneath Eddie’s thighs and lifted him onto the counter.

“At the whim of the dice,” Eddie corrected through a gasp. There was already so much clutter that he could only balance on the very edge, but Eddie had no worries that Steve would let him fall.

“Yeah, but you’re in charge in of the show. Pulling the strings behind your screen, watching the pieces you set up fall into place. You want us to succeed, at least a little, but you don’t make it easy. Huh, baby?” Steve chuckled, fingers tracing along the seam of Eddie’s jeans where the curve of his butt started, even if he didn’t have as much as Steve in that department. It also didn’t mean Steve ever kept his hands to himself, thank God.

Eddie tried to rock his hips against Steve, but was held in place before he got very far. His blood thrummed through his veins, but he hated it at the same time. He wanted and his patience had been shit his entire life. But Steve’s was entirely too practiced and all Eddie could do was tip his head back and groan.

“Steve…”

He tucked his face into Eddie’s throat, teasing the edge of his teeth on sensitive skin. He dug it a little, just once, but Eddie flung his hand up into Steve’s hair and dug into the thickest part at the back. Eddie’s hair covered most marks and impressions of teeth, but it wasn’t always a sure thing. Not with Steve Harrington.

“I know how hard you worked on it. I’m sorry that it ended so quickly. But now,” Steve said, drawing one of Eddie’s legs up around his hip. “I’m going to make it up to you, all right?”

Eddie nearly panted. He knew Steve could carry him—at least to his bedroom. He’d done it before, but he was torturing Eddie with the possibility of it now. The wide spread of his palms across Eddie’s thighs, sleeves of his shirt tightening around his biceps as he flexed and readied to carry Eddie’s entire weight against his chest.

Eddie hoped that’s what was fucking happening, anyway.

“Steve, it’s not that big a deal,” he said. Playing along or trying to make sure that Steve wasn’t throwing more of himself than he needed to at the problem to try and earn back Eddie’s forgiveness. But Steve smiled against his throat and dragged his mouth back up to Eddie’s lips for a short, teasing kiss. He parted with a soft bite on Eddie’s bottom lip, much too pleased with himself.

“So you don’t want me to spend the next few hours doing nothing but kissing and touching and making you cum?” Steve practically purred, the words rumbling in his chest.

Eddie tipped back his head, letting out a huff of air toward the ceiling. “I didn’t say that.”

Steve got it in his head sometimes that Eddie needed to be laid out and taken care of. And that Steve needed to be the one to do it. Sometimes it was because Eddie was so close to vibrating out of his skin that it was either Steve take over or there was usually collateral damage that involved a mug or someone else’s short-term feelings when Eddie finally snapped.

And other times Steve just wanted to touch, to give everything he had to Eddie. He still wouldn’t admit it, but Eddie had long guessed that Steve clutched hard to those he cared about. To keep them from realizing that he was too much and leaving.

But Eddie broke the mold of “too much.” And he’d let Steve give whatever he wanted, because he was really taking at the same time. Taking what he needed from Eddie. Under the guise of the babysitter, the caretaker, making sure Eddie knew just how much he felt.

“I thought so,” Steve hummed, grabbing onto Eddie’s legs and lifting him up with a soft grunt. Eddie hooked his ankles together and gathered Steve’s hair into his hands, pressing his cheek to Steve’s temple. The low-burning embers in his gut whenever he was around Steve flared to life as he carried Eddie across the trailer into his bedroom.

It wasn’t the same level as it was before, but Eddie had managed to re-clutter most of the wall space and his new desk. Replaced all his D&D books and was working on replacing all his band tees. Federal goons had no sense of decorum when they’d hauled off the old trailer and left Eddie with whatever Wayne could grab before they kicked him out.

At least he didn’t have to replace too much of his tape collection. Bless Wayne for managing that.

But Wayne wasn’t there, working a shift with double pay until later that night. Feds were good for something, anyway.

There was only Steve, with his broad palms across the back of Eddie’s thighs, fingers digging into the bonier form of his ass until he could tip them both onto Eddie’s bed. The bed was low enough that Eddie’s boots laid flat on the ground over the edge of the mattress, even when Eddie laid completely on his back.

Steve planted his hands on either side of Eddie’s head, standing between Eddie’s legs. The swooping strands of his hair hung in his face, directing Eddie’s gaze to his eyes, brown and blown out and focused entirely on Eddie. He’d been growing it out just a bit, still recognizably Steve but evolved and more comfortable in his own skin.

Steve never did anything in bed by halves. Anything, period, really. He never seemed, even at the beginning, like he was trying to do anything he could to distract himself from the fact that Eddie was a guy. Steve had touched him everywhere as soon as Eddie let him, and his mouth usually followed right after. Always lingering, always exploring

Eddie pushed up onto his elbows and planted his mouth on Steve’s, both of them laughing through their noses when Eddie ended up knocking them together. Steve kept his hands on the bed, bracing only his fingertips, while Eddie slipped his tongue past Steve’s lips. He pushed up, up to make Steve stand. They had to stop kissing, but it wasn’t like either of them were going anywhere anytime soon.

His hands went straight to Steve’s belt, hooking behind the buckle to pull Steve close. He slid the end out of its loop, but that was as far as he got before Steve closed one hand around both his wrists—good fucking Lord, honestly—and pulled them away with a soft tutting sound.

“Uh-uh, you lie back right here. You’re not doing anything tonight, remember?”

Eddie frowned, obstinately keeping his fingers tucked in the space between Steve’s belt and the waistband of his obscenely fitted jeans. He was hard, Eddie could tell and take advantage of it by rubbing his thumb along the length through the denim.

Steve breathed out through his nose, eyes darkening. Eddie did it again. Didn’t care that it ended with Steve twisting his arm with the grip around Eddie’s wrists and leveraged them above Eddie’s head, laying him out on his back once again. He hovered over Eddie, breaths mixing in the small space between their mouths.

His free hand—because Steve only needed one to keep Eddie right where he needed him—slipped underneath Eddie’s shirt. Rough fingers dragged along his stomach, pushing the fabric up and revealing his scarred body to the open air. Steve kept going, letting Eddie’s hands free to start getting the shirt up over Eddie’s head.

“Get up by those pillows, sweetheart,” he said, tossing the Hellfire shirt aside. And Eddie did, backing up the mattress until he could rest his head on the pillows that covered up the entirety of his headboard when no one was sleeping in it.

Most of his life, he’d only ever used one pillow for himself. Even when he’d had to replace all his bedding, he’d only bought one. And then Steve had started coming over. Staying over night after night and somehow that meant Eddie had accumulated three more pillows in the process.

The only explanation he’d gotten was that Steve didn’t like smacking his elbow against the wall from his side of the bed.

Not that it had ever happened as far as Eddie knew.

But he thought it might have had something to do with this—the way Steve stared hungrily at him as Eddie lounged amongst the pillows. How his curls spread out around his head like a halo, inviting every bit of Steve’s attention. How he spread his legs with one foot tucked underneath his knee and let his arms splay on either side of his head.

Eddie liked it too. Being laid out for his boyfriend.

Something in his eyes must have flared with his thoughts, because Steve grinned and then crawled onto the bed after Eddie. He made quick work of Eddie’s jeans, flicking the button open with one hand, the showoff. Eddie made a show himself of rolling his eyes, but Steve was too busy stripping Eddie bare. He sat up onto his knees between Eddie’s open legs, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face.

It untucked his shirt just enough to flash a glimpse of the dark trail of hair leading into Steve’s jeans. It shouldn’t be so hot, not with the fucking striped polo Steve was wearing.

He still couldn’t convince Steve to wear a Hellfire shirt. He wanted to think that Steve was just fucking with him at this point in refusing, but sometimes Eddie wondered if Steve didn’t feel like anything more than a stand-in at the table. Even though he’d played with them for over two months straight—after sitting in on the end of the last campaign on top of that—Eddie didn’t know how to prove that Steve had long earned his spot in the party.

But the point was, Steve was exactly as he was when he’d walked into the trailer after Eddie. Striped polo, tucked into his jeans and his white sneakers tying off the boy-next-door look that Eddie adored despite his better judgment. Minus the flush to his skin, Steve was fully dressed.

He hadn’t taken off a single thing.

Eddie didn’t have a shred of clothing on him, decorated only with his ink and the rough sections of scars on his sides, his arms, the side of his jaw. And Steve was all covered up, the denim of his jeans dragging against Eddie’s burning skin when he leaned down and planted his mouth right on Eddie’s collarbone.

He tilted his head when Steve wandered upward, teeth grazing and biting lightly on his throat. Twisted the fabric of his ridiculous polo at the shoulder and rocked his leaking dick against Steve. Against the rough friction of his jeans, and Steve just moved his leg into a better position for him without needing to be asked.

Eddie whined, pushing his face into the closest pillow. He couldn’t stop his hips even if he wanted to, even when he had to twist his body in an awkward way to push up into Steve’s hand rolling a nipple between his fingers.

Sparks burst behind his eyes when Steve bit down at the junction of his neck and shoulder, but Steve was up and moving to put messy, wet kissed down Eddie’s chest and stomach before he could thread a hand through Steve’s hair and pull in retaliation.

Steve looked up at him from his spot at Eddie’s belly button like he knew exactly what he’d done.

He traveled lower, slow and syrupy kisses on the slight softness of Eddie’s belly. Then teasing bites on the tops of his thighs, down closer to the more sensitive skin. He didn’t move Eddie’s legs; waited until Eddie moaned and spread them for Steve himself.

Cradling Eddie’s hips in his hands, Steve licked and sucked his way to Eddie’s cock, leaking against his thigh. Took the head into his mouth with a soft hum, staying there as Eddie let out a soft moan.

Eddie could already tell what he was in for. Should have known immediately when Steve promised to make up for something that Eddie wasn’t even truly bothered by.

Steve wasn’t going to let him up from his bed until every inch of him had been marked either by a soft kiss or a sharp bite from Steve’s teeth. He was going to take Eddie all the way into his mouth, tease his entrance with gentle touches until Eddie squirmed and whined, but didn’t beg. He was still a brat about begging, and at this point it was more of a show than anything.

Steve was going to ruin him, slow and steady. Piece by piece, and keeping his clothes firmly on the whole time because Eddie liked to touch, but it wasn’t about Steve.

He was going to make Eddie cum from his mouth, first. That was one of Steve’s favorites, because damn if those particular rumors had turned out to be fucking true. And Eddie fucking reaped the rewards from it.

Then he’d get Steve’s fingers. Parting his lips to get wet and slick enough for one or two inside him, before Steve caved and went for the lube. He’d get Steve’s mouth and his hands, and that was usually when he started losing track between the parts of bare skin he’d manage to touch between the drag of Steve’s clothes.

All he’d know was Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve.

And all of his attention, the spotlight of Steve’s focus, would be Eddie.

#steddie fic #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie smutty september #make up sex #service top steve #pillow princess eddie

64 notes · View notes

loganwritesprobably · 3 months

Text

Love Looks Different

Some t4t love between a FTM!Reader and Crocodile, Mihawk and Ace. If people were interested I'd happily take a stab at trying a MTF!Reader too

Content/Warnings: FTM!Reader, FTM!Crocodile, FTM!Mihawk, FTM!Ace, fluff, t4t love, Cross Guild era for Croc & Mihawk, pre-Marineford for Ace, pretty much all fluff, Reader takes T + has had top surgery in Croc's section, Reader wears a binder in Mihawk's section, Reader and Ace are both pre-top surgery in Ace's section and sunbathe shirtless

Crocodile had woken earlier than you, as was usual. It would be nice to not wake up alone occasionally but you weren't one to complain. You'd known what you were getting into when you began to date ex-Warlord Sir Crocodile.

You padded out from your shared bedroom to the main living area of your shared tent, itching at the scars on your chest. A breakfast was already made for you, and keeping warm in the oven. You smiled and collected the sausage and bacon sandwich from the oven, quickly turning the appliance off, then dropped into the beanbag Crocodile had bought just for you, getting comfortable while you ate your breakfast. The paper was waiting for you on the side table beside the beanbag, and you happily took it in hand for some light morning reading.

"Sweetheart, are you up?" Crocodile asked softly as he walked into the tent, spotting you reading the paper almost immediately. "Yeah, I'm up. You need something?" You asked, taking the final bite of your breakfast sandwich. "Yes actually, would you mind doing my shot for me? My hand is trembling more than usual today." He asked, and you could see that he was embarrassed despite him trying to hide it. "Of course. I'll do yours, then I can do mine." You said, taking your lover's hand to be helped out of the beanbag, his eyes fond and your smile wide. You were only too happy to help.

You swung your blade, making contact with your buddy's. The sound resonated in your bones, and it felt good to get frustration out. You'd sourced someone from Buggy's crew to spar with, even if he wasn't as good as you usually would prefer to train with, he was serving his purpose.

"Darling - what are you doing?" Mihawk called out as he strode toward the training ground. You paused the sparring you were doing and wiped your brow with the hem of your shirt, nodding for the pirate to leave for now. "Just getting my blood pumping, and some energy out." You replied, approaching your boyfriend with a smile. You rested your sword against a barrel and reached up to kiss him. "With your binder on?" He asked with a raised brow, reaching beneath your shirt to tug at the hem of the item. You grimaced, a little embarrassed that you'd been caught. You hadn't come out here with intentions of doing dangerous exercise but you had forgotten you'd had it on until you'd already started and figured it was good training. "I won't always have time to take it off before a fight. I should train for the possibility." You replied, tangling your fingers in the ends of Mihawk's hair. "You should minimise the risk to your body by only doing it in dire circumstances." Mihawk retorted, not pleased by the reasoning you'd given him. You rested your forehead against his, sighing softly. You knew he was right, you were just being careless.

"I know how uncomfortable it is to take it off around Buggy's men. You can't guarantee they'll understand. But you know I am always here to defend you, should you need it." Mihawk assured you, rubbing a slow and gentle hand over your back, he then kissed your forehead. Your free hand traced up Mihawk's toned chest and slipped beneath his coat. His scars were practically gone, healed so well, but small signs of his major surgery remained, at the very edges of where his pecs now were, almost in his armpits. One day, the both of you would walk around with your chests proudly on display. For now, you let him be proud enough for the both of you.

You strode out onto the deck of the Moby Dick, glancing around for your partner. Ace was around here somewhere, you were sure. You spotted Thatch and Izou sitting together and chatting, and Pops was nowhere to be found. The deck was pretty quiet actually.

"Oh, finally, maybe you can talk some sense into him!" Haruta called out upon spotting you. You approached him with a confused smile, but you had a distinct feeling it was about Ace. "What's up?" You asked once the distance between you was shorter, coming to a stop beside your friend. "He's sunbathing with no shirt on." Haruta said, pointing in Ace's direction. It took you a minute of staring to realise what the problem was with that, and began to loudly laugh. He was sunbathing with his tits out. "No different to anyone else." You retorted with a shrug and a wink, removing your own shirt where you stood to join your lover. They were still adjusting and you didn't hold anything against them for it, it was too funny to be offended anyway.

You lay down on the deck beside Ace and laced your fingers together. "You're doing this on purpose." You said to him, and you didn't need to explain for him to understand. "Thatch blamed me for the state of the kitchen. I haven't even been in there today." Ace responded. "What was the state of the kitchen?" "Flour everywhere." "Oh, yeah, that wasn't you that was me." The two of you erupted into laughter, content to lay there together to enjoy the warm sun and just being together.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots

#one piece #fanfic #writing #reader insert #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #portgas d ace #crocodile x reader #Mihawk x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #dracule Mihawk x reader #trans reader #trans Crocodile #trans Mihawk #trans ace #one piece x reader #loganwritesficlets

65 notes · View notes

penvisions · 5 months

Text

of beskar and kyber {chapter 19}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader) ; brief Force Sensitive! Reader and M!OC

Summary: As the wedding to Prince Cala looms closer, you find yourself feeling more and more out of place within the palace walls. You find an unexpected friend in your new bodyguard and handmaiden.

Word Count: 9.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, we meet readers betrothed and he needs his own warning, reader's mother also gets her own warning, kidnapping, reader is being kept against her will, hostage situation, use of narcotics, use of drugs, sedatives, self-depreciating thoughts, ptsd symptoms, medical trauma, past medical trauma, feelings of inadequacy, sexual themes, sexual content (not detailed), non con touching, unwanted advances, emotional manipulation, unnecessary display of possession, memory loss, controlling family dynamics, marriage set up, sold into marriage, there are a few more but they will spoil the chapter!

A/N: whew okay, sorry y'all. a looooot has been going on in my personal life, detailed in this post and this one. my only source of internet is the local library at the moment, which will make posting actual fic a little tricky for a moment. but i'm so excited to dwell further into this original arc with y'all ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Ringing. Ringing, ringing. It completely consumed you, from the very center of your ears, muffling every other sound that tried to get through.

It didn’t hurt, but it did make it hard to concentrate, it felt like an immense pressure behind your eyes as well. Making your forehead and temples sensitive to touch, making it hard to take in the bright light from the desert landscape beyond your windows.

There was a soft knock at your door, signaling the start of the day. But you didn’t rise, feeling too lethargic even as the form of your mother and two handmaidens entered the room in a flurry of motions and quick words. But everything ceased when you called out from beneath your covers as the curtains were drawn back.

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Her words were sweet, cloyingly so, setting off an unease deep in your gut, nausea roiling at the combination.

“I-I don’t feel too good. My head, it hurts.” You roll over to your side, unable to move much beyond that as the throbbing in your head intensifies. She goes to sit beside your covered form on the edge of the bed, but you protest before she does. You didn’t want her anywhere near you, the very thought of her touching you making your body tense up and ready to fight her off. Frowning, she retracts her hands from where she had begun to reach out, something glinting in her eyes.

“I’ll go see if the med droid is available.” And then she was off, allowing you to see her exchange a few words with the guards outside your door. You catch a glimpse of brown eyes, making contact with the man who possessed them for a breath, and you feel like the air catches in your chest. That simple, momentary contact with a man you don’t know eases the ailments that have you still in bed despite the late morning of the hour. But the door is shut tightly behind everyone as they exit the room. Leaving you in isolation, the curtains fastened shut once again.

Hours later, as the sun begins its descent from the highest point in the sky, you slowly open your bedroom door. There’s only one guard at your door, posted there to ensure your safety as you keep to your quarters for the day. He’s dressed in flowing black layers, brown leather harness and belt allowing for his sheathed rapier style sword to dangle from his hips. His head snaps to attention as you emerge slightly, and you feel your heart skip a beat as his eyes bore into yours.

Any thoughts of what you were about to ask are pushed from your aching head when you connect the man standing before you with the polite one from the market a few days ago. The one who had held you so tenderly and made sure you were okay when your body had convulsed as a weird energy had suddenly flooded your senses. The ones whose eyes you had glimpsed through the door earlier.

“Excuse me, but-oh Maker, I’m so sorry, this is so inappropriate to ask- but you look so familiar,” A breathy laugh gave away your nervousness. “Your eyes are just so beautiful, and I think we met in the market the other day, if I’m not mistaken?”

“We did.” His voice was like velvet rich, a caressing softness in your ringing ears. Easing the ache still lingering in your head even if his words were short, his tone almost emotionless.

“Oh, goodness, okay. I don’t feel so out of line. I just…I thought it was you but I didn’t want to risk offending you or making you uncomfortable since you’re new to the palace.” The hallway was silent, as if he was thinking over his next words, as if he was unsure of how to speak with you. But you didn’t mind, sensing he was a man of few words.

“What made you feel like it was okay to ask?” He’s watching you closely, and you feel as if you’re being dissected. Being read in a way you weren’t quite comfortable with but…it also stirred warmth low in your middle. It was so different a look to those you encountered from the rest of the staff, from your mother, from Prince Cala and his family.

“Oh, um. Did I-I speak too intimately with you, I apologize. I really didn’t mean anything by it-“ You flustered, unsure why the man was pinning you with such focus. As if he was reading things in your body language and inflections differently than those you dealt with on a daily basis around the palace, as if he was privy to what they meant. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the ringing still pressing down on your ears. Closing your eyes in a focusing blink before bowing to the man in front of you, stood dutifully at his post outside your bedroom door. Opening them back up, you avoided his eyes, not wanting to see the disdain he was surely pinning you with. “My apologies, sir, I meant no disrespect. I’ll leave you to your post.”

“No, don’t go. It’s okay, I promise. You can ask me anything you want.” He inclined his head toward you, one hand moving to grasp the hilt of his weapon. But it didn’t feel like a threat, it felt more like he was trying to ground himself. “I will do my best to answer. Though there are some things I may not be able to.”

“Why, because I’m the princess and you have to answer to me?” You tried not to scoff, the notion so ridiculous even if all signs pointed to this being your life. The title is something you had earned by falling in the good graces of the prince, of being promised to the prince of this planet. You never recalled wanting to be of such a standing and yet it had happened, it was your life. The insistence of so being repeated to you nearly daily over breakfast with your mother and at night over tea, almost as if it was a false truth being pushed on you until you believed it to be so. It was the reality in which you were roused from your accident, the one so bad you couldn’t recall any specifics.

“Because I don’t mind, you were kind to me and my…child in the market. He really enjoyed those berries.”

“Is he here with you?” You felt a swoop of admiration in your middle, the image of the small green boy lifting up the edges of your lips. You didn’t have the best experience with children, or any really, but you enjoyed the small sounds of happiness he had made as he munched and interacted with you. It filled a void you hadn’t realized, interacting with him, with his son. You never recalled wanting children either, though you mother and the parents of Prince Cala often cited two would be an appropriate number once the marriage was carried out. The discussion something you hadn’t even been a part of, making you feel some type of way about the whole ordeal that concerned your body and your livelihood.

“Yes, he’s back in the guards’ quarters, Asleep in my room.”

“He isn’t with your wife…his mother?”

“No, she’s…she’s, something happened to her.” His eyes averted, staring at the toes of his boots. They were worn, so unlike the rest of his pristine ensemble. It piqued your interest, but you didn’t want to push the friendly boundary barely established with the man.

“Is she okay?” It was quiet, your inquiry. Worry unsettling your stomach for the phantom woman who belonged to the man beside you.

“I hope she will be. It’s a…sensitive thing, that ails her.” His eyes don’t leave yours, gaze strong and glinting with emotion.

“I wish her a full recovery, I’m sure she misses you two by her side.” Breathing out the words, you suspected the man had been about to tell you she had perished. Unsure of why the prospect of him having a person, a partner… a wife seemed to settle heavy in your stomach. But it made sense, he was a handsome man as far as you could tell, his eyes beautiful enough to capture anyone’s attention. His obvious admiration for his son and the care with which he spoke…of course he had someone by his side.

The flare of jealously at the thought made you feel a little foolish as it unnerved you, you only just met this man. You didn’t even know his name. Frowning slightly, you bowed your head, hoping to convey your true condolences for his ailing wife.

“I…can only hope for the same thing.” Something in his forlorn tone didn’t sit well, sticking to the inside of your stomach. It was heavy, his feelings for the woman he spoke of, there was no doubt about it. And while it was endearing, it also felt…wrong. Like he shouldn’t be talking about someone else that way, that it was an odd thing for his focus to be on someone else.

Heat overtook your chest as you tried to push down the ill feelings toward this ailing, phantom woman Because this man was a stranger. A stranger with a cute, little, green child. He was nothing to you, new to the planet perhaps, definitely new to the palace and this line of work. You were sure you would remember such a sparkling set of eyes, accident or not.

Glancing back into your room, you wished they hadn’t brought you so much for lunch. Wanting to share in the abundance of it with someone who could use a little help. Being a guard couldn’t pay well and the man had a child and a sick wife to take care of. The fruit and skewers of marinated meat far too plentiful for just yourself. You didn’t want it to go to waste but you also didn’t want to force any more appetite than you had. Offering it to him would be a good attempt to make sure it didn’t go to waste.

“They brought me a lot of food, would-would you like me to make you a plate?”

“I can’t leave my post.”

“What if you came inside and we sat on the balcony? Furthest place from the door and you would be close enough to me should any threats arise.”

“That sounds very tempting. But it would be a violation for me to leave my post.”

“Oh, okay. That’s okay, I know it’s a lot to ask of you. It’s just…” You couldn’t look up at his face, his eyes that were no doubt still watching you closely. You felt embarrassed for being so forward, for asking this stranger for his time when he was working. Of course he didn’t want to come into your room and share a meal. “No, I understand. Thank you for your service.”

Turning to go back into the room, the door was stopped from closing by a large hand, thick fingers curling around the edge of it.

“I want to, mesh’la. Please don’t mistake that.”

“Can- can I ask for your name?” He paused, eyes looking you up and down as he thought over the positives and negatives of providing you with such information.

“It’s Aliit.”

“Aliit…and?”

“Oh, ad’ika.”

Aliit, Ad’ika, and…”

“Cyar’ika.” Your heartbeat hard in in your chest, so much so that you brought a hand to rest over your chest. The foreign language rolling off your tongue with ease despite never encountering it before meeting this man. They were not in Basic, nor any other language you were aware of knowing or being able to speak.

“Aliit, Ad’ika, and Cyar’ika.” You nodded your head at him, small smile gracing your lips despite the ringing still plaguing you. He bids you a good day, the sound of another guard’s footsteps coming down the hall.

The ringing lasts well into the night.

When it doesn’t abate by the next morning, your mother orders the handmaidens to prepare you for a trip to the medical wing, across the palace grounds. Your door was being guarded by a different guard and you worried you made the man from the market uncomfortable. Your heart sunk as you walked alongside a new woman who was in your services.

She was pretty, her hair dark and long, pulled back away from her face by a thin headscarf of dark blue. Her dress was a light sky blue, accents of the darker shade allowing for her to look beautiful in the ensemble of fabric. Though it didn’t seem like her normal attire, her arms toned and muscled from what had to be years of training and work. Her thighs stocky and thick as they moved underneath the fabric and guided you down the halls and out of the main building. You wondered what turned her to this line of work, if she had been a slave and sold to the palace to work off or cover her debt. You made sure to file the thought away and treat her to lunch each day should she have not much in the other aspects of her life.

The sun shone on her pale skin, and you wondered if she had on some kind of gloss over her plush lips for the glint to them.

She was pretty and you wanted to let her know. Though after yesterday, you were afraid of being seen as some frivolous princess who didn’t have any friends and needed to turn her attention to those in her service for conversation. Because it was true, you realized with a particularly painful throb of your head, that you didn’t have any friends who had called on you since your accident. Unable to recall if you were a social person before, you resigned yourself to the solitary routine of your life, only meals shared with others in your life.

She was kind, stopping every so often around the grounds as you stopped when the ringing made it hard to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

“I apologize – oh Maker, I don’t even know your name.” You leaned heavily against a stone pillar, head pounding with the incessant ringing. It sounded- at brief moments – like you were surrounding by strong wind, the hush of sand all around so intense or as if you were aboard a ship and flying through the air.

“My name is Cynth, princess.” She was close, close enough to catch you should your balance falter. “It’s okay, though, I’m new, no need to apologize.”

“She doesn’t care what your name is, she’s depending on you to get her to the medical wing, not make small talk.” The other handmaiden interrupted.

“Janae, you know I make a point to know everyone’s names. There’s no need to be so curt.” You lightly reprimanded, wanting everyone to know that you see them as they truly are. Your mother was so short and demanding with the help around the palace, stirring distaste and unease in you that you didn’t want to imitate her. “Please be kind to each other, sometimes that all we have in this universe, is the kindness of those around us. It can be lifesaving, so let’s try a little better, okay?”

“Yes, princess.” Janae bows to you, the fabric of her dress catching the breeze coming through the open corridor.

Moments later, all three of you were entering the medical wing. There was a droid who had to record the time and date of your visit before guiding you to the room you had been in far too much for your liking. Your mother’s perfume was faint, giving away her presence in the examination room. She was vigilant over your recovery, present at any small visit or worry. And you wanted to feel loved and grateful for her worry but it didn’t feel quite so…genuine even if she preached about getting you back to your old self on the daily.

“I-They tell me I had a bad fall, that’s why I don’t really remember anything from before.” You say as the two women helps moves to help you disrobe. But you startle, not liking the sensation of them pulling on your clothing.

“Please, both of you go and enjoy an early dinner. I can manage here by myself.” Cynth quietly ordered, hoping that less people in the room would help to calm you. It was a good judgement call, because as soon as the two nurses left you felt the anxiety skittering over your skin abate. You felt comfortable with her, and she helped you remove the layers of your flowing dress to change into the smock they needed you in to perform their exam and testing.

She was tense, uncomfortable in this setting, nestled in the medical wing alongside you. You could sense it in the cracking of her knuckles as she helped you to shrug on a robe over your undergarments. In the way she watched as a droid came out of the exam room alongside your mother and a man draped in a dark red tunic. Her jaw was clenched as she watched the way you let them guide you into the room they had just come from. The prick of a needle injecting something into your arm already taking effect.

“Cynth, please stay with me? We can get lunch after.”

“Of course, Princess San.”

“Servants are to only use last names when addressing the royal line. Show’s the respect they have for the rulers of the city.” You mothers voice was sharp, a warning simmering low in her words.

“It’s okay.” You slurred as your vision began to fade, edges of everything fuzzy, colors bleeding into each other. “We’re friends, mother.”

“Hush now, darling. You have to keep up the line between servants and your friends are not true if they haven’t come to visit you. We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, mother. My…friend,” At an encouraging smile at the edge of her lips you turned back to your mother. “Cynth is my friend, and I would like for her to remain with me during the day.”

Pursing her lips, she looked like she wanted to contest the request. Refraining from doing so, her lips turned up in a saccharine smile before she ushered you through the doorway into the exam room.

It was expansive, a giant machine taking up one half of the room, a set of three beds lining the other. Cabinets of supplies and a small desk with an electronic bank set up before it.

But the machine, was a blur, the contents of whatever she had administered taking hold fast. The last thing you recall is glancing over your shoulder over at Cynth and seeing her features morph into a stone caste, eyes hard.

“It’s worse than we thought.” Cara announced as she entered the servants’ quarters. There was an entire wing for them on the second floor of the palace. Dining room, kitchen, ballrooms and throne room all on the first floor. Library and green house rooms, the seamstress and many other “service” rooms set up on the third. The fourth was the bath house and other rooms they had been forbade from approaching. The family bedrooms on the fifth floor, balconies in each one. The medical wing was across the courtyard, outdoor hallways lined with covers supported by thick stone pillars.

Her and Din being assigned to one room with twin cots on opposite walls. Hired at the same time and kept on close tabs during the ‘review process’ to determine where they were to be stationed for their contracts. It had been easy enough, the palace needing to fill holes in security at the behest of your mother. Din had offered his services as a close guard for you, citing that he had experience with protecting high standing individuals. Cara had been automatically assigned to be a handmaiden, you dismissing one earlier that week for some reason that went unexplained.

Din looked up from where he was tending to ad’ika, the small being agitated beyond comforting. As if he could sense you were close by but too far for him to see and interact with. He missed you, he craved your calming presence and easy going care for him, Din suspected. He knows he did, the you before the manipulation, before the kidnapping, before he had gone and fucked it all up and allowed for this to happen to you.

“Her mother’s found and employed an ex-Empire director, they’ve constructed a mind flayer in the medical wing. San undergoes ‘exams’ twice a month under the close supervision of two nurse droids and the director.” Cara took in the way Din stiffened, his mind going over everything he knew of such machines only rumored to be still in operation. Of the atrocities committed in the name of getting back to a peaceful time of before the Empire’s rule by using the very same technology they had invented.

“Did her mother stay in the room?” His distaste bordering on hatred marring his words, giving away his feelings of the woman who dared to call herself your guardian and caretaker these days. He never thought himself capable of unaltered hate, but here he was. He could only go far as to guess it had to do with the same feelings he never expected to feel towards another, of falling for someone as completely as he had done with you. But of course, he had gone and messed everything up. Tainted the happy memories he had allowed himself to create with you after suck a rocky and tentative start after finding you shackled in that compound.

It was only every supposed to be another job, another quarry to collect and deliver. Instead he had found the child, found you. Managing through lack of cognitive thinking and examination of his feelings causing him to return the child only to decimate his professional career and standing in order to right his wrongs. He thought he had learned his lesson, only to repeat it with you.

“No, she left. But she does administer the sedative. I’m sure we can somehow take over those ‘exams’.”

“We have to.” His voice was firm, emotions in check as he moved to sit atop his cot. “We have to stop the sessions, it’s the only way her mind can heal itself and she can remember.”

“I think she’s already beginning to, something about her abilities wearing down the effects of the flayer quicker than her mother can keep up with. She’s complained of a headache since we got here, since she interacted with the kid in the marketplace.”

“Then we need to find a way to have her interact with him more, shift her memory back into place.”

“…she’s so quiet, constantly on alert. Taking stock of everything going on around her. I swear her mind is working more than she’s letting on. She was watching me this morning, almost as if she was trying to figure out if she recognized me from somewhere.” Cara theorizes as she recalls the way you were when she had first met you, back on K’ath.

“She…she said I feel familiar to her.” Din admitted quietly, his heart skipping a beat as he recalled the way you had looked at him. The worry of offending him with your honesty, with your relief of realizing you knew him from the marketplace, of feeling like you were able to ask him things you couldn’t of others.

Stealing glances down each hallway, you make your way through the palace on quiet feet. The only sound to give you away is the hush of your dress layers brushing against your legs. In your hand is lighting agent you had snatched from Prince Cala’s office. The low thrumming of a headache still present after your visit to the medical wing and subsequent night of unconsciousness, though it wasn’t nearly as debilitating as it had been yesterday. With bated breath, you turn into the expansive and lush nursery.

Hiding in a corner, you push on the glass panel of the large windows and breath in the hot, humid air to calm yourself. Reaching into the pouch hidden beneath your layers, you retrieve one of the tabac rolls you had requested from a handmaiden. She had frowned at the way you had asked her to keep it from your mother, but the second you lit the end of it and inhaled, all of your colliding thoughts vanished. It was a guilty pleasure you were sure wouldn’t look good to the public eye. But one you weren’t willing to give up. One you were sure was something from the time before your accident.

Steps that were nearly silent caught your attention and you looked toward the arching doorway, the clear glass paneling of it nearly visible from your hidden spot. A figure was pushing them open, hinges squealing slightly as a familiar voice called out your name.

Sighing, you shifted slightly, giving away your spot hidden among the lush greenery. You dress allowing you to blend in. It was made of a transparent layer of tulle over smooth silk, lighter green than the leaves around you. But the flowers sewn into the fabric allowed you to blend in with those that were blooming among so many of the plants too sensitive to be out in the courtyard, out in the direct heat and sunlight of the unforgiving desert sun.

Allit came into view, his eyes taking in the sight of you looking slightly nervous as you were found out smoking in a room that you definitely should not be. But it was the only one your mother wouldn’t follow you into, the perfumes of the flowers too much for her sensitive nose.

“Apologies, I thought I heard someone in here but it’s an odd hour for me to be up an about. Instincts took over.” He motions to the sleeping form in his arms before setting ad’ika down atop a bench. You feel for him, how tired he must be from watching the child during the day and then standing guard all night.

“I could, I mean, if you don’t-“ You cut yourself off, knowing it was a breech of the already muddled professional line between you both. Instead, you take another drag of the tabac before putting out the inch remaining from the roll and depositing it into an empty planter under the window sill.

“What is it, mesh’la?” His eyes find yours, genuine curiosity swirling in them as he approached you.

“I could watch him for you, if you’re okay with that. I know how tiring the night shift must be. Gives you a chance to rest in the mornings and gives me a little company.” Embarrassment at the care your exhibiting prickles the hairs on the back of your neck on along your arms swathed in sheer fabric. If you were being completely honest, you needed a distraction from the routine of your life. Wanting to feel like you were doing something, helping someone. The company of the child something you had been thinking about after a few passing interactions.

“I think…he would like that.”

“Make sure he has a balanced breakfast and enough entertainment to sleep soundly in the evenings.”

“He’d like that too.”

“And you?”

His eyes bore into yours, something in them that trapped the breath in your throat and your fingers itch to reach out.

“I’d like that very much.”

You feel the urge to reach out and pull him to you, he’s already so close. His broad body angled towards you, his eyes locked on your form, as if he’s seeing the skin hidden beneath the layers. Anticipation titters through you as you see the faint movement of his jaw twitching beneath the fabric draped over his face. Without realizing it, you had reached out, fingers skimming the outline of his cheek hidden from view. His eyes fluttered shut, his own hand coming up to gently clasp over your wrist. Though he made no move to step away or remove your hand.

“Apologies,” You jerk your fingers away, aware that he was not yours to touch, his skin not yours to caress your fingers over, his lips not yours to kiss. He belonged to another and so did you.

“You don’t have to apologize, mesh’la.”

“I-I feel like I know you, but I…I don’t and you belong to another.” You step back from him, the leaves of the leaves all around hushing as you did so. But he follows, step for step until your back is against the wall. But you don’t feel caged in or uncomfortable. You feel desire swirl in your middle, heat thrum just under your skin. He’s closer than he had been before, his chest flush with yours and his hands holding yours down by your waist, fingers tangled together. His eyes are sparkling when they meet yours, the brown of them lit up from the sun shining in through the large windows.

Your breath catches in your throat, nerves alight and you feel like you were floating.

“I do and I do not.” He says cryptically. But you have no chance to decipher the meaning behind his words as the bright jingle of your handmaiden’s bracelets float into the room from the hall.

“Princess? Your bath has been drawn if you wish to get ready for bed.” Her voice calls into the room, unable to see you hidden among the plants. With a lingering look, you separate from Aliit and make your way towards the door.

“Princess Cala, your mother and fiancé have made it very clear that you are not to be left alone. Especially in a place as vulnerable as the bath house.” Janea was trying not to overstep her place, but she was doing her best to uphold the orders she had been given.

“I’ll be fine, I just need a moment to myself. Please understand.”

“I would feel better if there was a guard just inside the door, the tapestries will keep you hidden.” The visceral urge to demand she leave and drop the subject was strong and you choked down the harsh words before they burst from your lips. The thought of someone being in the same room with you as you disrobe and bathe not settling well with you at all. Instincts flaring and the urge to fight making your muscles tense.

“I can call on Sir Aliit? I know you feel comfortable with him, he would never hurt you or put you in harm’s way.” Something flared in your chest- nervousness, excitement, at the thought of Aliit being close by. Of the man keeping an eye out for you while you were at your most vulnerable.

“He’s the night guard, it’s still too early for his shift.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, Princess. He is dutiful and committed to keeping you safe.” Cynth spoke up, having been waiting at the entrance of the room for you.

“O-okay, call on him then. Please.”

Moments later, the quiet steps of the man can be heard in the hallway accompanied by the soft, incoherent babbling of his child.

“I’m sorry, he wasn’t quite ready for bed.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” You lilt, reaching for the wiggling figure in his grip. Cooing softly, the child began to giggle at the tresses of your loose hair, reaching to wrap his fingers in them. Small face buried in your neck his muffled sounds still lift into the air. “He’s just a lil fussy, nothing a warm bath won’t fix. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, that’s not nece-“

“I don’t mind, I said I’d offer to help with him. It must be hard caring for him all on your own.” You smile at Aliit, taking note of the hands he had been stretching to collect his child back. Off to the side, Cynth is taking in the scene with a quirk of her lips. Having taken over watching you while Janae had gone to fetch the guard you were beginning to think of more than was appropriate.

Steam fills the expansive room, ornate stone walls covered in glittering and shimmering tapestries. The rich neutral tones highlighted by sapphire blues, bright turquoise, and deep oranges of tiles set in mesmerizing designs along the lips and edges of the large bath. It could easily fit four to five people, more of a sauna than a typical refresher. But it was peaceful in the room, even if you were hyper aware of the stoic form of Aliit on the other side of the cloth wall where a few tapestries had been drawn closed.

Ad’ika is gurgling away happily as you lower his small body into the water. It was a little too deep for him, but you had found a small floating cushion for him that was working as a makeshift raft for him to sit atop and be submerged up to his belly button. One of his little three fingered claws was wrapped around your arm and you felt the same energy from the marketplace flow into you. But instead of overwhelming you, it made you feel calm and collected. Centered.

You feel…comfortable around him despite not being too fond of children. And then there was his father.

Allit made you feel so much more like yourself, even despite being a little unaware of who that might be exactly. More so than anyone else in your constructed life, more so than Prince Cala. Something that sits in the forefront of your mind as the days drag on and your memory remains foggy. You were glad for him, even if he was a new addition to the routine and frankly, boring agenda your life was structured around. The man was tall, silent. Easy strength and skill obvious in his every move, in the velvet of his deep voice, the warmth of his eyes. But it didn’t unnerve you like the other guards, who seemed to be watching your every move. The hint of hidden directives underlying their attention and postings.

But Aliit…he was willing to converse with you. To allow you to speak with him as an equal without pointing out that it was unbecoming of royalty to do so. He answered your questions, and you could sense he had some of his own, sometimes letting them slip from the lips you wish you could see beneath the fabric covering his mouth. Masks weren’t part of the uniform, but he constantly had one in place. It was both comforting to know he was confident enough to feel like he could continue to bear it, and if you were honest…it was a little thrilling to find that he was willing to open up to you despite it.

The front of the room had cushioned benches, even a table filled with sweets and dips partnered with flat breads. Almost as if it were a living room or lounge room to idle in. But you had ignored it to delve further into the room. The bath was set up along the back wall, the right lined with shower heads resembling ferocious animal heads, mouths open in roars to allow for the water to flow from them.

Busing yourself with lathering up a loofa, you smiled down at the giggling child. He was so happy, so easy to please. Unbridled joy easy to draw from him as you had offered him to smell each of the bathing oil and soap options until he had liked one. He picked a lightly floral scent, one that reminded you of blooming trees from the time of before your accident. A rich, woodsy scent with the underlying current of it.

Once you were sure he was scrubbed clean, his laughter at the tickling sensation making warmth bloom in your chest, you wished for this to be your life. To spend your days with the child and his father, as if this was a normal occurrence for the trio you made. Taking pleasure in the small things, in the calm of a daily routine.

Rinsing him off in the bath, you wrapped him in a towel. Sending him to sit atop a stone bench a few feet from the baths edge, you began to lather up a second loofa with the same soap. Once you were covered in suds, you stood from the water. Stepping over the edge, a jolt of pain made you lose your balance, and you knocked over the bottle of soap as you tried to catch yourself.

“San?” Allit was suddenly pulling back the colorful tapestries that divided the room. You stilled as you were hunched over and reaching for the bottle where it had sunk to the bottom of the bath. His eyes widened just a fraction at the sight of your skin on display, bubbles covering very little from view. Arousal throbbed deep in your middle, tingling across your heated skin at the brief feeling of his eyes roving over your skin.

Your stomach jolted at the idea of him seeing you, his eyes taking in the scene before him.

“Apologies!” He choked out before receding back a little and facing away from you, though he didn’t disappear from view. “I thought, I was just checking to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m-yes, of course. Just- yes.” You stuttered, unsure where the sudden feeling of arousal had come from, of why him seeing you in nothing hadn’t ignited the same sense of fear and instinct to fight as the mere intention of your handmaiden’s helping you to disrobe. “We’re both okay, just knocked something over.”

“Copy that, yeah.” His voice so smooth as it washed over you. “I’ll…leave you to it, then.”

And he was gone, leaving you in that same hunched over position. Your heart was beating quickly, blood rushing in your ears, body alight with tingling arousal. With a sigh, you berated yourself for the sudden feelings as your hand wrapped around the bottle and put it back in the little basket with the rest of the soaps and oils.

“I demand to see my fiancé!” A booming voice could be heard in the back of the bath. The hush of conversation following the shout drowned out by the running of water as you washed off in one of the stalls. Ad’ika was wrapped in a towel, sitting half asleep and waiting for you to redress him. Wrapping your own towel around your damp body, you drew back the fabric enclosing the stall only to come face to face with both Aliit and Prince Cala. Both had crossed the threshold into the marbled portion of the bath.

“Oh!”

“My dear princess, your guard needs to be informed he is to break your requests in favor of mine. If I wish to see you, I am able to despite you saying you wish to not be disturbed.” He didn’t offer apologies for intruding on your privacy, bouldering his way further into the room despite the glare being aimed at him from beneath thick brows.

“Y-yes, my heart. I-I apologize.” Tightening the hold of the towel around your body, you were hyperaware of this being the most exposed you had been in front of the man who was to be your husband. It didn’t stir any feelings of excitement or arousal in you, instead you felt nausea rise to prickle your skin in an uncomfortable chill.

“You are not to be left alone under any circumstances, do you hear me?” The man stepped forward, his hand reaching for your bare shoulder. You ignored the urge to back away from him, aware of Aliit watching the scene unfold just a few steps behind him, of the energy flowing from him as he obviouslt disagreed with the way things were unfolding. Cala didn’t seem to mind the gaze of the other man as he stepped up to you, hand snaking around your shoulders while his other slipped underneath your towel to grasp at your bare waist. Eyes downcast, you let him touch you. He hadn’t raised a hand to you or given you reason to think he would harm you.

“Even if you are bathing, a guard or handmaiden is to be within viewing range. I don’t care if he’s to see you, you are far too fragile to be left to your own devices.” Humiliation floods you, heating you too much to bear as the steam of the room and the hot water of the bath begins to stifle you. You choke on a response, eyes downcast as you can’t bring yourself to look up from the stone floor. But he didn’t like that, the way you were stuck and unresponsive. “You look at me when I speak to you.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You brought your gaze up to his face, glancing behind his shoulder at the other man before focusing on your intended’s eyes. “I apologize for-“

“You are to dress and go to my quarters.” His hand slid down your damp skin, fingers brushing against the thatch of hair over your most intimate area. You gasped out, he had never even so much as kissed you unprompted. And even then, it was always chaste. But this side of him…it was bound to come to light, he was a man after all and you were to be his. His eyes dilated at the feel of your silken folds as his fingers skimmed over your skin.

“Yes, s-sir.”

“Ensure she dresses appropriately, guard. Maker, I don’t care if you have to force the clothing onto her, she should look fitting for the night ahead of her.” He cocked his head to the side at the resounding silence of the room, tension so thick it was only adding to the overwhelming heat. Dark eyes narrowing, Cala’s grip tightened, bordering on almost painful as he demanded an answer. “Guard, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Came the quick reply from the man behind him. Voice devoid of all emotion, velvet given way to gravel.

Smirking in satisfaction, Cala moved in a rather harsh swipe of his fingers up through your folds, catching on the hood of your cunt. You couldn’t tamp down the startled cry as the tips of them brushed over your clit, more painful than scintillating. Before you could even register the move, he was turning away from you and stomping out the door.

He delivered one last command over his shoulder.

“There are wrapped presents that have been delivered to your closet. Dress her from one of those, I expect to see you in less than an hour.”

The second the door shut at the front of the room, your knees gave out and you found yourself crumbling to the ground. Strong arms softened the blow, cradling you close to a sturdy body, keeping your towel wrapped around your trembling body. Humiliation overwhelmed you, anxiety rising something awful in you as you sunk into the warmth of the body holding you close. He didn’t stir anything in you, his touch comforting and tight around you.

“I’ve got you, mesh’la.” Allit’s deep voice soothed as he pulled you to him, body so close and encasing you. But you didn’t feel trapped or caged, you felt comforted by his closeness. You opened your mouth to assure him you were okay, but a wet hiccup was what fell from your lips.

Time passes and your memory still does not return. You’ve resigned yourself to this choreographed dance of your life. Breakfast with your mother, who tends to watch you so closely you feel like a creature on display. She bids you a good day before going about her business, something she claims is left over from your lives before you got entangled with the prince of the planet’s sole city. She had yet to allow you to share in her work, her craftmanship of forging armor pieces of chainmail. You often felt restless, thinking the act of participating would help to sooth you, help you to focus.

You dream of making pieces of armor, of donning others. The smooth metal cool underneath your fingertips eliciting both mundane things and…rather debauched thoughts of a large body pulling pleasure from you as easy as breathing.

You occupy yourself with walks through the gardens, of watching over Aliit’s child during the day before handing off the tiny creature who could barely keep his eyes open to the man before joining your intended for dinner. A nightcap with your mother, often tea since she insisted caf before sleeping was bad for your condition. But it was the stolen moments with Cynth and Aliit that you looked forward to the most.

The handmaiden often accompanying you during your walks, soft conversations of her time before being employed by the palace. Of the things she’s lived and endured. You feel very close with her, almost friendly with her as you often share lunch.

Aliit often gave in to your requests for him to sit in the lounge area of your room or out on the balcony in the late hours of the night. Sleep evading you as surreal and vivid dreams plagued you, making it hard to lay back down once you were waking from them with gasping breath and confusing thoughts.

You don’t dwell on the happenings of the night Cala demanded of you. He hadn’t touched you, not beyond his harsh and brash show of possession in the bath house. But the things he had said to you and the way he demanded you touch him had been something you hadn’t wanted. His once chaste kisses turning into his tongue breaking the seal of your lips as he bid you goodnight at the end of each dinner as he dropped you off at your bedroom door. It all felt like a show, a way to display his possession of you to the man who was your night guard. But despite his now harsh kisses that stole your breath in the worst way, you worried for Aliit having to witness the behavior. It had been…something you didn’t like to think about.

It was definitely something you didn’t talk about. With anyone.

The only consolation was that your headaches seemed to abate, the ringing in your ears no longer springing up at random moments. Despite being your night guard, Aliit was now a prominent figure that accompanied you to each visit to the medical wing. They were still as foggy as the memories of your time before the accident, but you felt something shift inside. Mind no longer seeming to work in overdrive to recall things, errant memories of traveling to unknown places alongside faintly familiar figures becoming something you felt throughout the days.

You were consumed by the mere thought of Aliit on the other side of your bedroom door. He often started the night off inside the room, heeding the orders of Prince Cala. Though he often stepped outside once you fell asleep, the door right behind him should he need to retreat at the sound of footsteps to keep up appearances. He was always so serious, so still. Never moving at the errant sounds of the palace. Of the other guards doing their rounds within the many halls. Always on alert, though his eyes hardly moved to give it away.

“I know it’s late,” You started to say as you opened the bedroom door. Aliit was immediately turning to face you, his hands clasped behind his back. “But do you want to come in for some tea?”

“Of course, mesh’la.”

He busied himself readying the tea in the small nook that housed a hotplate and a kettle, giving you a moment of peace to gather yourself from your most recent almost waking dream. You had been in a different desert, at a different time. Alone. It hadn’t been anything spectacular, you had simply been living out a day with a routine that felt like it had once been your reality.

“Can I be honest with you, since we’ve…bonded over our shared time?”

“You can share anything with me and I’ll listen, mesh’la.” His voice, his words always so sincere with you, it caused warmth to flare in your chest. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating voicing the thoughts that had been consuming you lately. The twice a month check ups having been unsupervised by your mother, Aliit and Cynth taking over those duties. Ever since they had entered the palace you felt…like something was off kilter. But you also felt like… some things were beginning to shift into focus.

You recalled the feeling of heat from a different desert, from a different time in your life. The same from so many of your dreams. Countered by the plush landscape ripe with trees and temperate air. Dreams that felt all too real consumed your sleeping hours, a blurry figure swathed in shining metal beginning to appear beside you in each one.

And while you didn’t know why or how, you began to associate the same sense of calm and comfortability the figure stirred in you with that of Aliit beside you more and more. You let your eyes wander over his seated form now, beside you in the small longue area across from your bed. The room was still far too expansive, making you feel like a bird trapped in a gilded cage as your mother prohibited you from leaving the palace grounds more and more as the wedding loomed near.

“I…I don’t feel like this is my life. I feel like I belong somewhere else, with someone else.”

His eyes soften, the brown of them comforting as they watch you struggle to find the right words. You don’t feel as if he is waiting for something, like so many others you interact with. He seems to hold genuine interest in what you have to say, never glossing over anything even if it seems childish or meaningless.

“I can’t explain it, it just feels like…there’s something more for me. And I know I should be happy here, it’s a beautiful planet, the stars are so bright at night, the ocean is so clear. Anything I need is just a request away, my intended is very attentive and wants for me to have nothing. Even if he’s…altered the way we spend some of our time together. My mother, she cares for me despite my memory of her being foggy. But…Maker, I feel like this is all wrong. Like I belong somewhere else that I can’t recall. That the person meant to be beside me…is someone else. And I feel homesick for the things I can’t remember. For the lands and planets I see in my dreams. For the figure beside me in each and every one.”

You can sense that he has something to say, but he remains quiet. His eyes the only thing speaking in the comfortable silence of your bedroom. Too many words and thoughts swirling behind the chocolate depths as they regard you. He only offers them and a hand for you to reach out to, sliding your fingers between his and reveling in the warmth of his skin against yours. After a long while, his soothing voice comforts you in a way that takes your breath away.

“We’ll get you back to feeling like yourself, where you belong. I swear it to you, mesh’la.” He shifted from his own chair to sit atop the low table, heights almost matched now. He leaned forward, but you didn’t shy away from him, giving into the moment when he pressed his clothed forehead to yours. Breath hitching, your eyes fluttered shut, unable to take in the emotions swirling behind his beautiful eyes as they caught the lanterns light. He felt…he felt familiar. More like the shape of the man you had been feeling when you first woke up, though you knew it to be a trick of your imagination. How could you possible feel such a connection with a stranger you had only met after your accident when your memory was something hidden deep inside of you or gone altogether?

“Th-thank you, ner kar’ta.” The foreign words falling from your lips surprise you as much as they seem to do him. You repeat them in a questioning tone, his hand tightening around yours. Your eyes flew open, gentle sentiment behind the words not lost on you in that moment. Hope was shining in the man’s eyes, so close…even as he leans back to look you over.

“Do you know what that means?” You could tell that he holds back other questions, other concerns as he regards you with a hardness behind his eyes. But it isn’t aimed at you, the ire you see flare up in their depths. It’s never for you, the things you see flicker in them. He only ever offers you the softest version of himself. Enough so that Cynth has begun to tease you of it during your time together during the day.

“I-I think it means ‘my heart’.” You hesitate, feeling like it’s far too intimate a sentiment for someone who is not your intended. But you feel it, in the very depths of your soul, that it is okay to call the man sitting beside you so.

“It does.” He almost sounds proud and you rather like the tone coming from him. It stirs something low in your stomach, almost as strong as that once occurrence of arousal before everything shifted between you Prince Cala.

“I don’t know why I said that, I don’t…even know what language that is. How-“

“Ner kar’ta, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” His eyes don’t leave yours, filling you up with something you don’t think you’ve ever felt, fragmented memory seeming to stitch together at the flash of emotion. Suddenly, you feel the gentle breeze and cresting sunlight and you’re standing in the midst of an open field. A figure is standing before you, decked head to toe in beautiful, shining armor with their hands held out in front of them in a placating manner. The silver swathed figure from your dreams in full focus now as you hold Aliit’s hand in yours. Fingers feeling the warmth of him as they caress his skin, the energy from him that is so soothing. Behind him is the shadow of a large ship and you long to be back there in that moment even as it feels both hauntingly foreign and familiar to you.

“What is going on here? You’re supposed to be at your post protecting my daughter.” The harsh voice of your mother surges into the room from the now open doorway. You spring from the man beside you, heart beating harshly in your chest, a barrage of emotions flaring in you. The rattling of the fine porcelain on the low table separating you startling you. Your eyes move from the vibrating cups and plates to the man beside you, and then to the glaring and obviously upset form of your mother.

“He’s following the orders of Prince Cala, who explicitly stated that I am to be supervised at all times, mother.”

“I highly doubt the prince instructed this man to dote such attention on you to the point of holding your hand in the middle of the night!”

Anger and distaste for the woman across from you flares hot over your entire body, energy igniting inside of you that feels both far too familiar and far too foreign. The very same energy you had been feeling more and more in the things and people around you, almost as if it was a secondary thing to breathing, to existing. The glare marring her features twists in your mind and you feel the weight of heavy metal around your wrists, your ankles, your neck. You feel the phantom dredge of something chemical buzzing in your veins and you know- you know that she’s the cause for such sensations.

“I want to know exact details of my accident.” You demand, aware of Aliit standing at attention behind you, his muscles tense just as yours are. Though you do not fear him, you fear the woman who calls herself your mother. Pushing through, you meet her eyes with your own and something in your own expression surprises her. Feeding off of that genuine reaction, not something that seems so calculated, you demand of her, “I want to know what happened to me.”

previous chapter || next chapter

taglist: @clevergirl74 @strawberri-blonde @js-favnanadoongi @littlemisspascal @moonknight-s-cumdump @bookloverkat @golden-mando @beskarandblasters @feral-ferrule @bearsbeetsbeskar @76bookworm76 @anoverwhelmingdin @sarap-77 @picassopedro @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @genetics4life @mosssbawls@vivian-pascal

109 notes · View notes

bubba-luz · 3 months

Note

What do you think about the One Piece live action show?

(I just suffered through most of it with my sibling and I actually shed a tear or two)

At first I really loved it! But then as the weeks went by the honeymoon phase was over and I started noticing things and thinking about things. Safe to say I’m not really a fan of the LA anymore. It could have been worse honestly with the track record of Netflix and live action adaptations in general [the wigs oh god the wigs]. Also on the topic of adaptation I’d say OPLA is more of an interpretation of the original manga than it is a one on one adaptation.

I think the cast is great, they do look the part. But the characterizations of the LA is well…not the manga one. I had forgotten what happened in the EB arc at that time, but I started rewatching the anime and the changes are even more jarring. In the LA, Luffy isn’t as confident as he is in the manga, he clearly shows doubt in his abilities and sometimes needs someone else to help him up and get his head on straight. I think the only true time that happens in the manga us when Jinbē has to tell him to get himself together after losing Ace and his crew, most of the time Luffy doesn’t really need to ponder and go “oh gosh what should I do here?😣” he mostly just does things without thinking or improvises mid-battle.

Zoro. Zoro Zoro Zoro. Roronoa Zoro. Why are you not a complete loser? OPLA Zoro is what men in the fandom think Zoro is, a stoic no nonsense cool guy who fights with swords. He’s just so emo. But he’s not. The concept alone of fighting with a sword in your mouth and calling it three sword style is ridiculous itself. This is pre-timeskip too, Zoro is always goofy, but he was even more silly when he was 19, this is the same man who tried to cut off his own legs and started posing when he realized he wasn’t getting out. Why was he so serious all the time. Also the Kunia story did not hit as well as in the manga, like I really didn’t give a fuck 😭.

Oh Nami…Nami…To me Nami felt a bit…mean to me? And yes even before Arlong Park she chastises the boys, but it never feels like genuine dislike. I really think LA Nami wanted to leave their asses 😭. There was no whimsicalness in her heart, TOO MUCH ANGST in this one. And why on Earth would they change her storyline with the Village, the townspeople know Nami is only working for Arlong to buy back their Village, the LA approach of them not knowing was completely unnecessary conflict😭.

Usopp was done dirty, I know Syrup Village isn’t a lot of people’s favorite arc but it was Usopp’s arc. So tell me why he does nothing the whole time! And why is Zoro’s back story in the middle of USOPP’S arc. They even took his little kid crew…

rip Merry.

Sanji…ooohohohohoh Sanji. Sanji. SANJI. What do you mean the eyebrows wouldn’t work because they’re “too silly” you’re main character is a rubber man and the other fights with three swords what do you mean TOO SILLY. You had a man with cat whiskers fuck you. Tiny swirls would’ve worked. Why was he obsessed with oregano 😭 The showrunner said they toned down his pervertedness and made him more flirty but it just felt…uncomfortable. Like Nami was genuinely UNCOMFORTABLE. They did the exact opposite of what they tried to do. Baratie Sanji was already a flirt, in his little pathetic “step on me mommy” Sanji way, and Nami used that to her advantage she wasn’t uncomfortable in the manga. The Don Krieg pirates were taken out, so we don’t get Gin and Sanji’s kindness on full display. Sanji doesn’t even WITNESS Zoro fight Mihawk which is what made him want to go set out to find the All Blue in the first place. Why don’t Zeff and Sanji have genuine chemistry😭. Sanji throwing a tantrum at Zeff was soooooo funny, literally what was that, it happened so suddenly 😭. My friend told me the showrunner said his fave arc was Baratie but he only ever talks about MIHAWK 😭, it’s SANJI’s arc bro.

And also the showrunner thinks the romance dawn trio are the main characters when…they’re not😭? Maybe before Usopp joined, but after?…no all the strawhats are the main characters hello. Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Chopper, Robin, Franky, Brook, Jinbē. I don’t have high hopes for S2, and I probably won’t watch it either.

Edit: OPLA Sanji feels like a heterosexual man. He only tops women and doesn’t fuck or get fucked by men.

#ask

55 notes · View notes

twilghtkoo · 1 year

Note

HI!!!! TOTALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS!!! but I wonder if I can request a haechan drabble where his s/o putted a lot of lipbalm on her lips and haechan said it'll go to waste so he'll kiss her and say he's sharing it with her. HSJSHSJSBSJSNSJNS

pairings. haechan x streamer!reader (f)

genre. fluff, established relationship

warnings. shy haechan?? small make out sesh, mentions of zelda again bc i love zelda

notes. THIS REQUEST IS SO CUTE??? thank u anon for requesting this ! i hope you enjoy this just as much as i did writing this one :D

haechan masterlist | main masterlist

“i blocked and muted anything related to zelda because i do not want spoilers!” you exclaim into your mic, mindlessly scrolling through your playlist on spotify to play another song.

user same i blocked and muted everything bc my game doesn’t get here til the twentieth

user same

user i like playing new games going in blind it’s exciting

“me too, i love it. even though the trailers and concept art drops give away a bit but not too much.” you agree to the last comment you read.

user how are you

user hiiii yn

user how long have u been streaming

user is haechan home?

“i’ve been streaming for two hours and thirty-eight minutes,” you answer. “and haechan is almost home actually!”

“oh let me show you guys my new wallpaper.” you excitedly say, minimizing your current windows, displaying your wallpaper to the viewers.

it’s just a screen capture of a scenery from one of your favorite game franchises, the legend of zelda twilight princess. an official illustration that shows link on his horse, epona, with the master sword in his hand, looking handsome as ever in his green tunic. princess zelda and the twilight princess in the background and wolf link in front. the colors are so pretty and you’re very proud of it.

user oh my god that’s so cool

user tp yessss

user who is that fine man

user that is fire

“that fine man is link–“

knock knock.

“who?” speaking of the devil. your favorite person walks in, staring at you quizzically with his work bag hanging off his shoulder. he looks absolutely ravenous and you want to thank his parents once again for giving birth to this man.

“hi babe!” you chirp, straightening your posture as you weakly hold out your arms in the air, waiting for him to walk into your embrace.

he cradled your head against his tummy, being careful of your headset. his hands move down to the area just below your ears, pulling you in for a kiss but you slyly dodge him. haechan rarely kisses you while you are streaming, he doesn’t like showing that in front of thousands of people. but he can get affectionate and touchy sometimes, so he’ll pull you towards him with his back facing the camera and blocking both of your lips.

“haechan’s home guys,” like it wasn’t that obvious…

you grab your tube of lip balm that was across your desk, quickly and evenly applying some to your lips. when you rub your lips together, it feels a bit thick but you try to ignore it.

he hums, “that’ll just go to waste, let me get some.” he cups your face again, pushing your chair with his knees to make room for him to stand in front of you. you instinctively place your hands on his waist from the sudden movements. he bends down, his face inching closer towards yours and it’s like your brain goes haywire because your lips quickly connects with his before you attempt to shove him away.

you know where this is going.

he lets out a whine, “kiss me.”

you giggle, your head is still in his hands. you try to look at your monitor, already forgetting you had a live audience. haechan noticed your concerns, he turns his body slightly to tap your mic, turning it off so viewers can’t hear anything.

“now kiss me.” he says impatiently, the corner of his lips curving upward in a smirk.

you roll your eyes before your eyes flutter close and you let him indulge. he takes his time kissing you, long and slow yet hard, and he’s smiling into the kiss.

“ok enough stingy,” you managed to say in between kisses.

you can feel your lip balm being smeared all over your lips and around, all sticky and uncomfortable.

he chuckles, he bite on your bottom lip gently pulling on the flesh as he pulls away slowly before resting his forehead onto yours. a familiar action that makes your thighs clench together.

“you’re calling me stingy when you weren’t gonna share,” he points back, ruffling your hair before he turns your mic back on.

you look at him once more. “aigoo, look at you!”

you grab his wrist before he manages to walk away, pulling him down so he can show his face. his lips are glistening from your make out session and his cheeks are all red.

he gasps when he sees his reflection, immediately straightening up so he’s out of frame.

user theyre so disgustingly cute

user i feel like we’re interrupting something even tho we were here first

user GET A ROOM

user in front of my sandwich too?

you cackle at his reaction, too distracted by him to be reading the comments. tapping the mic once again with your hand.

“look who’s shy when you were begging to kiss me in front of twelve thousand people.” you jokingly tease.

“yah! is it a crime to kiss my girlfriend?”

#yeow6n #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck #nct fluff #haechan drabbles #haechan #haechan imagines #nct dream #haechan x reader

549 notes · View notes

eetherealgoddess · 8 months

Note

Pardon me,but can I get a feisty female reader in a yandere royal au who is a assassin and infiltrated their castle to kill them but gets caught and she isn’t the type afraid to die.

No problem!! Hope you enjoy it!! ♡︎♡︎♡︎

ꨄInfiltrating Their Heartsꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Royalty/Assassin Au

❦You infiltrate the kingdom as vengeance for your mother and village, only to be caught up in a plan you knew nothing about❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

❦The guys are brothers in this story❦

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Infiltrating Their Hearts

Entering the castle was easier than you’d thought it would be, disguising yourself as a maid while also playing the part for a few weeks. You knew that in order to complete your mission, you’d have to be strategic and clever. The kingdom of the rich is huge, a brighter village that holds stable buildings, access to all the favorable crops as they live lavishly. The royalty reside in the large palace that sits behind the luxurious village. You couldn’t help the bitter feeling of jealousy to take control, growing up as a peasant amongst the poor village, you grew a deep hatred for the wealthy, basking in their jewels as they disregard the commoners who sunk in their poverty, somehow still praising the evil that allows them to suffer.

At one point, you didn’t blame them because clearly they must’ve earned their spot, though when you made friends with some of the villagers in your own town, they would talk amongst themselves, revealing the corruption in the system that had been created for the rich to live and the poor to survive. The royals barely visited the commoner’s area, but when they do, your eyebrows furrow as a scowl forms on your face, watching them stride in the carriages with their pretty silks and fabrics, their jewels and markings that shine and stand out, as if to rub in your face what you’ll never have a chance to experience.

Honestly, the extra wealth does anger you, but not to the extent for the herbal medications your village lacks because of the rich’s sense of greed. Having watched your mother suffer at the hands of a disease that could’ve been cured by their help. The tears you wept as you watched her gradually wilt away, only being able to hold her as she took her last breath when you were only but a child. The deep rooted anger only had room to grow over the years, bitterness so poisonous that you promised yourself that when you were old enough, you would sacrifice yourself to take out all the royals.

You practiced endlessly, training and pushing yourself to attack and use a sword. It would’ve been a nice hobby if you didn’t have an endgame for it, passing the time as you sweat, bled, and cried, your mother being the main inspiration for this idea. You had to get vengeance, some kind of justice to fulfill your heart’s desire. Vengeance for not only your mother, but everyone in the town who is currently suffering. You’ve had enough.

The royals consisted of the King and his sons, the five princes. The pretty boys anger you every time they step foot in your village. You couldn’t wait to take them all out one by one. You begin with the King, sneaking into the throne room, the idiot napping on his throne without the realization that his time to die has come. You pull out your sword as you walk to the middle throne, staring with deep hatred as you stand in front of him.

“Time for your repentance, you greedy serpent.” You hiss before pulling back your sword, and slicing his head completely off. Your eyebrows furrow and nose scrunches in disgust as you watch the blood squirt out of his neck and ooze out of the head, some of it staining your maid’s dress. Your body jolts when you hear footsteps behind you. Turning your body, you’re met with guards running after you, snatching you by your biceps as they force you to kneel facing the beheaded king as beautiful silks flow once the princes pass by you. Not one glanced behind as they’re guided to their seats next to the king’s throne, except for the tallest one who stood as the guards grabbed the king’s body and tossed him on the floor right under the large throne.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you watch the disrespectful display, the tallest now sitting on the throne with droopy purple eyes and a sly smile as one of the servants who had come in grabs the crown and sets it on his head gently, the piece fitting perfectly with his long gorgeous locks. Your eyes narrow as all of the prince’s intense gazes shift to you. You give all of them a look of disdain, prepared to die anyway, though angry you only killed one royal just for another to take his place.

“Ah, Y/n. It’s an honor to finally meet you. The one who was destined to behead our father, may his soul rest in hell.” The oldest says with a closed eyed smile, crossing his leg comfortably over the other, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I suppose the fortune teller was right, such a shame, really.” The younger twin states, leaning his cheek against his palm.

“At least her death was swift, brother.” The blue eyed one states, flipping his platinum hair.

“How were we supposed to believe such an outrageous statement? Not our faults.” The golden eyed one states as he shrugs with a smile.

“You knew all along?” You question with disbelief, not bothering to care about your interruption.

“Of course, why else would we allow a peasant girl to work in our home?” The shortest one states in a monotone voice with a bored look harboring his face.

“We even helped you out by giving father his favorite herbal tea but with a twist.” Kazutora states.

“Why else would he sleep in the throne room of all places?” Rin says with an eyebrow raised.

“Which is why we want to offer you a place in the royal palace, Y/n.” King Ran smiles. Your eyes narrow once more, frustration at your failed mission.

“I refuse.” Curved lips drop as some tilt their heads in confusion.

“Then you’ll have no choice but to be executed for your crime.” You nod, exhausted of the life you’ve been dealt regardless of the circumstances. You’re ready to meet your maker, ready to see your mother.

“You do realize this is a once in a lifetime opportunity?” Sanzu questions. You nod.

“If I must repent for my sins then I’d rather have it no other way. I shall die at the hands of the executioner amongst the crowd if that means I get to remove myself from the royal and wealthy corrupt world once and for all.”

A pause fills the silent room as a look of contemplation falls on the King’s face.

“Hm, interesting woman you are indeed. I knew it from the beginning when you first arrived. I could feel the rage a mile away.” He says, his sly smile returning with a finger placed on his chin. “You shall stay as a personal servant to myself and my brothers.” You gasp.

“Why would you want me here? A traitor? I hold no respect for this vile kingdom. I hold only disdain and disgust with all of you. I refuse to accept it!” The King’s smile widens.

“An interesting little minx you are. It doesn’t matter what you accept, only what the King rules.” Rin chuckles. You try to stand up only for the guards to shove you back on your knees.

“Are you out of your mind? I planned to kill all of you!”

“Yes, the fortune teller informed us of that as well. No problem! You can be chained until it’s time for you to complete your duties. You’ll be on watch at all times whether by us or another guard.”

In all honesty, the interest started way before you arrived at the castle. As children, they watched as you, a peasant child, dared to grab their fathers robe as he passed through the commoner’s village, begging him to help your poor mother. The guards seized you, pulling you away as you yelled curses all the while tears streamed down your face. They would never rid the image from their brains. Their interest is unexplainable considering there've been thousands of peasants who begged and cried for the help that was never given to them, not that they had the empathy to care.They knew exactly who you were when you entered the castle as a maid, having not believed the fortune teller before and slashing her neck. Now you’re here in all your glory, you couldn’t leave nor could you die.

You sacrificing your own well being for vengeance was just something that caused their interest in you to skyrocket, your rage is seductive. Emotional unavailability being the forefront of their entire life and legacy, they fed off of yours, someone so passionate and ready to die for the vengeance of their loved ones. How captivating, indeed.

“Just kill me, please! I-I committed treason! How could you allow a traitor to live? Despicable!” You exclaim with fury.

They watch in silence as you continue to berate them, continuing to disrespect their names, home, and legacy. You wanted them to feel some kind of suffering even if it had to be through such petty words.

“I refuse to follow any of your foolish rules. You’ll just have to kill me.”

“It’s never been your choice, darling.”

“It’s alright, we just need to do something about that mouth of yours.”

“Such ugly words from an angel’s face, how disgraceful.”

“It’s been finalized! Let’s go now, I want supper.”

“Guards, send her to the designated room. You should get some rest.”

“No! No! Let me go! I do not belong here!” You exclaim as you’re picked up and dragged out of the throne room, forced to stay amongst your enemies.

104 notes · View notes

thescarletnargacuga · 2 months

Note

Hey there! I just wanna start by saying that I absolutely adore your work! You always know how to pull a reader right in, and I always get excited when you post something new (especially the Showtime stuff, but I'm biased on that front).

Anyway, to keep the train rolling, I've got a Harlequin request for you:

Pomni is out on patrol duty, with a plucky little Cade in tow. Suddenly, they encounter a group of rogue marionettes that somehow snuck their way into the occupied part of the city. Naturally, Pomni's protective instincts kick in, and she engages them.

Cade has never seen his mom in combat before, and he's pretty excited at first, but when he witnesses the level of brutality she displays, he becomes rather frightened…

(It's my first time making a request like this, so I'm really really nervous. I hope this prompt isn't too weird or anything)

A/N: Anon, Anon, come here. Come closer. I won't bite. THIS IS PERFECT! This situation gives a chance for mother/son bonding and growth. While the world they live in has improved, it's still very dangerous. Thank you for this!

THE WAY OF THE COMBAT HARLEQUIN

A HARLEQUIN AU ONESHOT

Harlequin AU credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

WARNING: intense violence, mechanical gore, trauma, hurt/comfort

~~~

Cade had accompanied his mother on her patrols before but they've always been in the inner city. The worst thing she usually dealt with was a neighborly dispute. It was mostly an excuse to get her son out of the house and have him run his energy out.

Now that he was ten, Pomni figured he was ready for a more outer patrol. While not leaving the bounds of the occupation, they were further out from the main population and therefore there was a higher risk of seeing something that wasn't a puppet.

"Do you think we'll see a seeker!?" Cade asked as he swung an old piece of pipe like a sword. He hadn't received any combat training yet, but it's been promised to him. It's a necessary skill to survive. He's heard the stories of his mother's exploits and he's no stranger to dangerous situations himself. "I'd like another chance to take down one of those mechanical mutts!"

Pomni smiled at her son's enthusiasm, seeing so much of herself in him, but her motherly instinct overrides her combat harlequin pride. "I doubt it. The border patrols can handle more than a single seeker, and besides, you're not ready for-"

A group of panicked puppets ran towards them. Pomni grabbed Cade out of the way of the stampeding crowd. Cade dropped what he was holding out of surprise and held to his mother.

Before Pomni could ask what was happening, a tall humanoid marionette vaulted itself over a pile of crates and landed on a puppet. It stabbed the puppet in the chest with it's right hand, sharp digits pierced the puppet's heart and pulled out the core in one swift motion. The puppet's body immediately went limp on the ground as the D.I.E was encapsulated in the marionette's grasp and stored in the forearm.

Pomni's body geared for battle, this was worse than any seeker. She drew her sword. "Extractor!! Cade, run!" She pushed him away from her, motioning him to go with the fleeing puppets. She didn't take her eyes off the marionette, these things were fast and looking away for even a second could be deadly.

Cade hesitated to leave, completely overwhelmed by what was happening. "But mo-"

"GO!!" Pomni rushed the extractor as it made a move to chase another puppet. She deflected it's attacking reach, stopping the extractor in it's tracks. She stood between it and the innocent lives that depended on her for protection.

Cade took a few steps away but instead of fleeing, he hid. He's never seen his mother in full combat mode. He shrank further into his hiding spot as he took in the imposing form of the extractor. It had no face, only a smooth yet rusted mannequin like appearance. It was much taller than his mother, with long limbs that flexed in unnatural directions.

"I don't know how you got this far, but this is where it ends for you!" Pomni lashed out at the extractor. It dodged and counter attacked, reaching for Pomni's heart.

Pomni spun out of the way and brought her sword down on the extractor's arm, right in the elbow joint. She twisted her sword, breaking the joint, and kicked the marionette away from her. She continued her assault with a lunge at the extractor's power source.

The extractor caught it's balance and side stepped Pomni's attack. It grabbed her by the neck and slammed her to the side of a building. It would have gone for her heart, but it's broken arm hung uselessly. The marionette recalculated it's strategy. It threw Pomni into a stack of barrels, making them collapse on her and knocking her off her feet.

Cade gasped. His mother was unbeatable in his eyes, but her being on the ground for more than half a second was enough for him to run out from his hiding spot and get between his mother and the extractor. "Leave her alone!!" He stood bravely but seeing the extractor up close made his whole body feel cold with fear.

The extractor moved its head down to look at the small puppet. Detecting a D.I.E within reach, it's remaining good hand rushed to extract it. It's pointed fingers didn't get close.

Pomni exploded from the barrel pile. Sword and eye blazing with bright yellow energy. She speared the extractor in the gut, pushing it away from Cade. It's feet dug into the earth but the strength of the smaller harlequin forced it back.

"DON'T!" Pomni carved her glowing sword up the extractor's torso.

"TOUCH!" She tore her sword out it's side.

"MY!" She jumped and brought her sword down with both hands.

"SON!" She stabbed the extractor in the top of its chest, driving her sword down through the power source.

The extractor fell to its knees. A mechanical whirring screech emanated from it. Sparks showered the ground as it struggled to move. As it's systems we're failing, it sent out a call for reinforcements.

Pomni ripped out her sword and decapitated the extractor. The head rolled as the body collapsed. She breathed heavily through her teeth, out of both anger and fear. Before she could address Cade, more fast approaching danger made her flare up more with energy.

Two more extractors and an even larger, tank like marionette rushed Pomni's position. Now she knew how they got past the border patrols. Pulverizers were huge, heavily armored, and had arms that touched the ground, making their movement more akin to gorillas than anything human.

Pomni transformed her mechanical arm and sprinted towards the incoming attackers. She shot at one extractor, it leapt onto a wall and climbed to the roof. She shot at the other extractor, it was hit in the leg and it tumbled before getting back to it's feet. She aimed everything she had left at the charging pulverizer. Rusted armor flew off the marionette but it didn't slow down.

Cade covered his head from the percussive shots, it was louder than he ever thought it would be. The noise scared him back into hiding. He stayed out of sight as his mother warcried.

When all five shots were spent, Pomni focused her energy in her sword and waited until the pulverizer raised its arms to attack. When it did, she slid under it and hacked off one of its back feet. The pulverizer stumbled and crashed into a building, momentarily stalling it.

Cade flinched when the pulverizer hit the wall. It's face and shoulder were torn open, it's old frame falling apart from ages of lack of upkeep. He looked back to his mom as she roared at the marionettes.

"PREPARE TO DIE, MOTHERFUCKERS!!" Pomni was confronted and flanked by the two extractors, who attacked simultaneously. The one on the roof tried to come down on her head, but she rolled away and slashed the second. The extractors collided, giving her a chance to charge her sword and cast a flying razor light wave at them both.

The light cut through the marionettes as though they were paper, cleaving them both in two as the pulverizer came charging back. Pomni gritted her teeth and focused energy into her gun. Yellow light gathered at the end of the barrel as she aimed it at the pulverizer's head.

"DIE!!!!!!" A harsh beam of light blasted from her gun, vaporizing the pulverizer's head and most of it's chest. It fell, sliding to Pomni's feet. She continued to yell as she stabbed and slashed at the remnants of all the marionettes until they were nothing but magled scrap.

Cade was horrified. His mother had never spoken like this in front of him, even at her most angry. He didn't recognize her as she angrily tore apart the remains. He stayed where he chose to hide long after she finally calmed down.

Pomni punted the head of one of the extractors into the distance. "AND STAY DEAD!!!" She huffed, her eyes still glowing with mother bear fury. How dare these things choose today of all days to break through to what is supposed to be a safe zone. Cade could've been killed!!

Her mind slowly cleared from the combat hyperfocus. "Cade!?" She looked around for him, hoping he was still safe. She didn't see anymore enemies, but what if he had been hit by debris? She spotted him peeking out at her, but he quickly ducked away.

"Cade?? Are you hurt!?" She rushed over, kneeling next to his hiding spot. What greeted her wasn't relief or gratitude....but fear in her son's eyes. "Cade?" The light in her eye faded, she appeared as herself again, despite the fact that she was covered in marionette oil splatter. "It's okay, they're gone. You're not in danger anymore." She reached for him, but he flinched away from her.

A flash of blue light announced Caine's arrival. "Pomni!? I just heard- oh, you already took care of it." He looked over the carnage, taking how overkilled the marionettes looked.

"DAD!!" Cade bolted from his hiding spot, and hid behind Caine.

Caine kneeled down to his son's level. "Hey champ, you okay? I'm sorry you had to see those things up close, but it's a good thing mom was here. She took care of the bad guys."

Cade fearfully side-eyed Pomni and hid in Caine's arms. "I want to go home." He mumbled.

Caine protectively held Cade close and lifted him up. "We can go home."

Pomni felt hurt that Cade didn't want comfort from her. She tried to get close to Caine but Cade whimpered when she did. She could see him shaking and kept back. "I...I need to search the extractors for D.I.Es and check the outer patrols. Make sure there aren't more of those things lurking around. I'll catch up with you later." Pomni sheathed her sword and held a stoic expression as she passed Caine.

"Alright...?" Caine watched Pomni walk away. She was never this stiff after battle. "Stay safe." He wished her before blinking away with Cade.

Pomni couldn't get Cade's fearful expression out of her mind. Did seeing those things really frighten him that much..? No, he tried to face one, despite being defenseless. Then what was he so afraid-......oh.

Pomni stopped what she was doing, feeling like an extractor's claw was around her heart. Her own son saw her fight with all her strength against enemies that didn't warrant it. She's handled far worse with less. She tore them apart to protect her son. That didn't make her a bad person, right?

She reflected on every battle. Every boss. Every rat that ever had the misfortune of crossing her path. She killed...for fun. Her bloodlust was never satisfied. When she couldn't find something to fight, Caine would take up the mantle of spar partner to curb her hunger, but she always craved more.

Pomni looked at herself in the reflection of a rain barrel, really looked at herself. Her soul felt warm in it's chamber, like it was trying to comfort her. "Am I a monster...?"

Cade stayed in his room the rest of the day, not telling Caine much about what happened. He hid in his favorite box in the closet. He felt safest there outside of his father's arms. His room door quietly opened and shut. Someone walked across the room and sat outside his open closet. He stayed quiet.

"Cade..." Pomni gently called to him.

Cade didn't respond. While he didn't truly believe his mother would hurt him, but now that he knew what she was capable of, he stayed in his box.

"Cade, I hope...I hope you know that what I did today was for your sake. Those marionettes are very dangerous. They could have killed you and so many others. I had to..." Pomni trailed off, her voice failed her as she wanted nothing more than to hold her son. "I only ever want to keep you safe, but the world we live in is stupidly not safe." She gave a sad chuckle, fighting tears. "I'm sorry today was so much...you weren't ready...maybe you never will be. Maybe that's what I'm afraid of..."

Cade peeked out from his box. "You're...afraid?"

Pomni quickly wiped her eyes. "Yes, I'm terrified. That one day, I won't be there...when it really matters... Please...don't be afraid of me...I would never...I could never..." Tears forced their way out, streaming down her face.

Cade's never seen his mother this vulnerable either. All of this was so new for him. She was always so strong. Unbreakable. Unshakable. Today he thought she was too strong and now...she pleaded with him as though he held her heart in his hand. "Dad said you kill bad guys. They were pretty bad."

"They were. Very bad. I'm sorry I got carried away in front of you, I just...needed to make sure they would never hurt you or anyone else again. It's what I was made for, Cade."

"To protect?"

"To protect this city. And you are part of my directive too, have been since the day you were born. I would fight the world for you, Cade, because I love you."

Cade climbed out of his box and hugged his mother. Pomni pulled him into her lap and nearly broke down with relief. Cade felt safe so close to his mother's heart again. Their soul energy greeted each other so warmly. "...it was kinda cool how you cut those two extractors in half without actually touching them with your sword. How did you do that?"

Pomni took a steadying breath. "It's very advanced soul magic. It'll be awhile before you learn how to use it. A long while. For now, I just need you to do something for me." She adjusted him in her lap so she could look him square in the eyes. She needed to make sure she had his full attention. "When something like this happens, and it will likely happen again, when I say run, you run. Understand?"

Cade nodded. "Yes, momma. I don't want to stick around those things again, not until I know how to swing a sword like you. Then I can help you fight the bad guys."

"I'm hoping one day you get to live in a world without them, but...you are a harlequin. We're specialized puppets, and you have the greatest advantage over all who came before you."

"What's that, momma?"

"You can write your own directive. No human will ever do it for you. You can choose your own path from day one. I know you'll figure life out because you're smart, like your father..."

"And strong like you, momma. I'll be the bestest harlequin ever!"

Pomni smiled. "Yes, you will be, and I'm already so proud of you."

Cade and Pomni sat together in the young puppet's room for hours talking about what the future could hold, and the plan for his future training. He needed to be ready. The world wasn't going to wait for him to grow up before it threw it's worst.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc fanfiction #tadc caine #tadc pomni #tadc showtime #harlequin cade #tadc harlequin au #harlequin au

44 notes · View notes