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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

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Ciel handled being dressed far better than his 'husband to be'. Years of dealing with being manhandled had the one earl Immune to such actions. Still Airella could tell something was bothering him.

"Your awfully quiet honey, having some second thoughts?"

The little nekos ears drooped a bit, Airella put down the brush she had been using to tame the demons now much longer hair. "Come on now whats the matter?"

Ciel Looked away from the vanity mirror, his own reflection had been causing him troubles. The likeness of people that wouldn't be here for this day. "You know, I was suppose to get married when i was still a human, to my own cousin funny enough. It was arrange when we where young by my parents."

Airella smiled gently moving her chair to face the young male. She took his face in her hands brushing the fringe away from his face. "Human's are silly in that way i suppose. Nobility marry for almost any reason but love, however i can assure you that this match is nothing like that."

"I know, it's just... My aunt Ann, she used to tell this story about how my mother would sit with Lizzie and Myself and say what a beautiful bride Lizzy was going to be. Then i would cry and say i wanted to be beautiful to. She loved teasing me with that, but the point is.. My mother would always agree and tell me that i would be handsome to and that she would be right there.. " Ciels words trailed off some.

Airella, sighed, she knew the surprise Sebastian had waiting...but, she was going to pull the trigger a bit early. Ciel needed this now, even if it wasn't the same she had a feeling it would be worth more now than ever. " You stay here for a moment ok honey? "

Ciel was confused but sat where he was, he couldn't look back in the mirror. His features had always bothered him but they hadn't been this way before, he had grown some since being in hell. His face had thinned out some and his hair had grown. He looked more like his mother and father now, not quiet as grown up yet but getting there. How long did it take for a demon to mature, he was starting out looking immature for his age even as a human. Sebastian was likely centuries old but looked to be in his twenties, Airella and Anthony didn't look much older. "Either way I'm stuck with this, reminder of what i lost." He said quietly, not hearing the door as it opened slowly behind him . Or the footsteps of the occupant that seemed to float on such an elegant and eerie stride.

"Oh, its not such a horrible face little Earl. I'd venture a guess I've seen much worse on some of my guests. EHehHehEHee"

Ciel Spun in his seat looking up with a wide Disbelieving gaze. "Undertaker?"

"You look so surprised, surely you knew i wasn't human." The legendary reapers form swept effortlessly across the floor, his smile taking a gentle shape.

Ciel bolted up from his seat, suddenly self conscious in his wedding attire, being seen by someone who knew him before. The bluenette crossed his arms over his chest backing up to the vanity. "Of course I know that you lunatic!, That still dose not explain what your doing here!"

The silverette fained hurt clasping his long black taloned hands in woe."Oh that's not nice! You should be happy to see me m'dear who else would give you away but your dear old uncle Undertaker! eheheeeehee!"

The young demon scowled narrowing his blue eyes their pupils turning to slits as he let out a low hiss. " Your daft!"

Undertaker sighed a bit his trademark smile falling, "You don't remember that's fair enough lad, The only reason Mr. Butler knew was i threatened him when i first meet him. I failed to protect you and I hadn't wanted you to become a demons meal."

Ciel's annoyance subsided winning out to his natural curiosity. "What are you going on about, and when did you threaten Sebastian."

The gray reaper glided closer taking a seat at the vanity previously occupied by the once earl. " When you came back, I went to your manor but you where still ill from ..well what those pathetic humans had done to you. I regretted not protecting you as your father had asked of me."

"M-my father.." Ciel felt shell shocked. "I..I knew you where one of his contacts but I didn't think you where so close he would ask something like that of you."

"I had hoped you would remember those times but it seemed so much had changed you from that bright eyed child that used to clamor for my attention when I came to visit. You know Vincent found it most amusing how much you enjoyed my company and having me read you stories." The elder man smiled fondly at the thought.

The nekos ears dropped at the mention of his past, he could only remember bits and pieces from before the fire. What he did remember he had held onto so fiercely as not to forget, perhaps in doing so drowning out any other recollections. " Why.. why didn't come to me then when I returned. When all I had was Sebastian and Aunt Ann, or when she died why not then? Why leave me to feel alone in that world." He felt.... not anger ..and not exactly hurt. It was some sour mix of the two laced with regret.

"I thought it best, and that Mr butler proved more capable than I thought. To be honest I had planned to let him give you your revenge then come and kill him before he could take your soul. You deserved compensation for your grief and he could give you that. However, I did not for see a demon falling in love with his human master. Which is funny because my wife is half demon eheheh silly me."

This was so much information to process at once. "your married ..to demon..what?" The little demon looked like his brain had crossed a circuit.

" Ah, yes don't you remember the nice woman who would bring your mother those special soaps and teas. When you had your first asthma spell she and I came to see you. I don't blame you for blocking so much out Ciel, loss can be a heroing thing." the ancient reaper said his fingers caressing the chain of lockets that hung from his belt.

Ciel stared off into space for a moment before a haze filled his mind.

--- The scent of lilac and lilies, " Ciel, look who came to visit." his mothers voice.. he was in the play room alone as usual. The was a woman in the doorway, she wore a black and green dress and had long dark brown hair. She always smelled nice and when no one was looking she would show him something she called magik. She could make his stuffed rabbit dance and bow with just the gesture of her long elegant fingers .

"aunti Luna!" his child self shouted bolting into the woman's waiting arms. " Has uncle come too, he will read me a new story this time won't he!"

Luna laughed at the little ones exuberance,being around this child eased her pain, and she knew it did for her dear husband. His mannerisms made most human children fearful but not the little Phantomhive. "he has business to attend to with your father but I'm certain he will make time for you."

That warm feeling the memory gave him began to fade and the haze clear though now his vision was clouded with tears ------

" Oh Ciel, " the reaper regarded the young man, even if his body had matured the hurt on the once humans face looked as it had so long ago. Undertaker stood drawing the boy into his arms. " There now, we can't have you looking poorly on your wedding day, your parents wouldn't have wanted that."

Ciel clung to taller mans clothes, "I-I'm not crying you stupid old madman..I-I just have something in my eyes!" The boy sobbed however he did not push away the familiar embrace.

"oh of course not, not a big boy like you !" Undertaker cooed pulling up the boys face and pinching his cheeks.

The good-natured teasing cause the demon to huff and finally dry his eyes. The youth turned away trying to recompose himself, Ciel honestly hated crying in front of anyone. Unfortunately in that instance he had been overcome by his lingering human emotions.

"So, how did you even find out about all of this. I mean I know you knew I became a demon because we had your aid in faking my human death and of course that we where in hell seeing as you where apart of the lot that summoned Sebastian away to help that ..red menace. However, how did you know about our...current arrangements?" Ciel said finally turning around, a manicured blueish brow lifted in question.

Undertaker perched himself on the vanity crossing his legs in his usual way,chin tipped on peeked fingers. " Well I do have my ways of finding out interesting things don't I earl. Or eheheHeheEHe Maybe a little birdie told me."

Ciel pinched the bridge of his nose, inside however bloomed a bit of warmth, Sebastian had done this hadn't he? "I see, well try your best not to do anything awkward and embarrass me then."

The reaper grinned tipping his hat. "Wouldn't dream of it."

CEREMONY ________________________

(AN: The song that inspired the ceremony and is referenced is called Orchestra by Celtic Magic, unfortunately i could not find a youtube video for it. But it is available on Xbox music,and itunes its beautiful and recommend it. )

All of the planning and careful fine tuning had come to an end. Sebastian walked down the stone pathway to the secluded garden, one might call it Eden had its location not been in the abyss. The black bark of weeping willows framed the oasis, from there outstretching limbs hung tiny glass bulbs everyone glowing with other worldly hues of swirling amber, violet, and sapphire blue. The grounds swayed with wild growing roses, the little silken buds of ivory seemed to glow against the deep green of their leaves. It was perfect.

The former Butler glanced at the standing candle labra as the lined the walk way, his eyes cladding as each cancel blazed to life. The guests seated among the roses on black weathered wood benches began to whisper at the sight of the groom. Demons and she devils alike all jealous of the once human that would be paired with the Raven clans handsome young son.

Sebastian smirked at the gossip, 'let them talk.. I have no doubt once they see my Ciel they will know why he is the only one suited for me' he thought, approaching the iron archway.

General Kerian who was standing as officiant for the ceremony regarded the young demon. "It's been quite a while since I have seen you in public in your demon form." he said smirking.

Sebastian looked less than enthusiastic about that aspect of the tradition. "Yes well it is expected, as old fashion as it maybe."

The raven groom was dashing in his traditional robes, the black silk hung about his waist by thick pewter chains. A mantel of long combed black fur about hist shoulders, joined with a silver chain and clasp bearing the signet of the Michaelis clan. Sebastian's horns where adorned with joining chains, each bearing gems of onyx and cats eye amber. His wings lay folded behind him their fold black feathers shining in the retreating light of Hades false sky.

"Oi he dose clean up nice doesn't he." Anthony bellowed coming up behind his younger brother. The man also showing his true form, wearing a black and garnet robe much like Sebastian's.

"Indeed, though I'm sure young mister Phantomhive shall be the center of attention should your sister and the lady Faustus have there way." Kerian winked at the groom to be.

Sebastian smiled and looked back down the pathway where his chosen would be entering. True they had already committed them selves to one another privately but this would let everyone know. That deep possessive part in the demon hummed with approval, everyone would know that Ciel was his and his alone. Forever.

As the sky took on a tint of navy and purple and the blood moon rose high over the arch way the General called for silence, the moment had arrived.

The field of onlookers quieted down, the only sound a whispering through the willows. Out of the silence came soft melodic voices that vibrated the glass baubles that hung from the trees, the little lights began to ring with the voices of the three demon women as they sang. No such beauty in the underworld can rival the voice of a siren, if used for evil deeds or ones such as this.

The air it self seemed to vibrate as a chill swept through the garden, a breeze carrying flurries of snow. All eyes turned toward the entrance gate,watching with wrapped attention as frost began to creep up along the iron bars like patterns of fine lace.

For as the raven was surely fire, the panther was ice.

Ciel stepped into view his deep blue eyes glowing a vibrant fuchsia that contrasted with the demons pale white skin. Each step was precise as bluish tinge skin flirted through the high slits in layers of Blue,black and silver silk. The skirt or the robe hung low on the boys hips, held in place by tears of thin glittering platinum chains. Similar chains hung from the black collar about the once humans neck, cascading over his bare chest. Several of the outer chains looping under his arms and around his back. From his elbow to his wrists long ribbons of the same breathtaking blue crisscrossed down and hung free to the floor. Ciels black claws had been filed and polished to a deadly shine, his cat like ears now bore several Silver captive hoops. His now longer hair lay unhindered over his shoulders and down his back . Even with all of this finery the young demon was undaunted and held his shoulders back and an expression of pride as he stood before the closed gate.

Sebastian felt the air leave him, the world it self dulled around this beautiful creature whom he has stolen from death and the heavens. No soul could taste this good, no blood bath this exciting. He would bow as low as the earth would allow if only to live an eternity worshiping that body, that once frail human form. Ciel was no longer a waif in need of his protection, in this moment Sebastian knew the truth. Ciel had become his equal.

Undertaker rose from his seat beside Luna and opened the gate. The shinigami offered his arm to the demon. Even the old legend had to pause a moment to take in the poise and grace the young man possessed. From the Queens dog to one of hells beautiful predators.

The onlookers gawked and yet Ciel payed them no mind, their whispers and gasps where little more than dust to the wind. His cat like pupils where centered only on his goal, his lover, his mate.

As the pair reached the alter Undertaker bowed his head to General Kerian whom returned in kind before saying. " With whom dose this being come and whose blessings accompany him."

"I do, and with full blessing to this union." Undertaker said giving a wink to Sebastian, though some might have seen the underling threat there as the Shinigamis luminescent duel colored eyes where for the rare occasion visible.

The demon General's voice filled the garden, the presence of authority in his timber. "Let it be known, Ciel Phantomhive is recognized before you as one of our Kinsman, and is given with honor into this most sacred of contracts." The ancient demons eyes shifted over to Sebastian next.

"Youngest son of the Michaelis clan, does the blessing of your clan head follow you ?"

Behind them Anthony stood, once had to admit the broad bare chest of the larger brother made him quite the sight. "Aye, I am in full agreement with this match. As acting head I give my blessing."

Kieran spread his massive owl like wings." You have the word of your kin, but as with any contract both parties must be in agreement. So i ask this of each of you, Sebastian Michaelis - have you in given your oath in the manor benefiting our kind to protect,honor, and share of your body and soul with Ciel Phantomhive."

Sebastian reached out taking one of Ciel's hands, warm cinnamon orbs glittered with deep adoration as they meet the limitless expanse of pacific blues. "I have."

"And dose he bear your mark so that only you and you alone will know of his heart."

The raven smiled softly. "He dose."

The General then turned his attentions to the neko." Ciel Phantomhive- have you in given your oath in the manor befitting our kind to protect,honor, and share of your body and soul with Sebastian Michaelis."

Ciel clasped his mates other free hand speaking the words." I have."

"And dose he bear your mark so that only you and you alone will know of his heart."

"He dose" never in his short life had two words held so much.

The ancient demon raised his hands, the blood moon of hell now hanging high above the alter illuminating the area in shadows of crimson. " Let it be known, that this is union bound in the deepest of loyalty. It runs as deep as the blood that ruses though your veins and the thoughts you harbor in your hearts. For this reason may no creature of any plane seek to break this vow, for the punishment is death. It is by my honor as the over seer of the Faustian sect to recognize this match."

Every demon in attendance then stood as was custom, " Embrace your mate and in the eyes of those presence seal your vow."

Sebastian's hands slid up along Ciels wrists, traveling along the young mans forearms and shoulders until they cupped his face. Those black razor sharp claws suddenly began as gentle as a mothers touch as the ghosted over the young demons cheek bones tilting the bluenettes face.

Ciels hands rested on his lovers hips looking up as the ravens face drew ever closer to his own .

"I love you ." the words in unison feel from both of there lips in a reverent whisper before there lips met.

There was a round of cheers and clapping, Anthony being the obnoxiously loud one of the bunch followed only by Arella's sobbing at ' how sweet' it all was.

As the couples kiss came to an end Sebastian bowed as he had so many times before, taking the hand of his former Master. "What are your orders, I am your knight after all"

Ciel smirked at the phrase, one he had heard so long ago, "Indeed, in this moment your body your soul,to the last hair belong to me. " He said tracing a finger tip along the ravens cheekbone.

" Take me home and do to me the unspeakable things i can see in your eyes."

"Yes..My ..Love"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FIN~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 24: Epilogue

Notes:

AN: Ok so here we are! This is the Epilogue and I just wanna say I have loved this journey and hope that the 2nd book will be as well received as this one !

Chapter Text

Glossy black nails drummed the steering wheel following along with the rhythm of a thick back beat and screaming guitars.

A pair of cerulean eyes flicked up to the rear-view mirror, watching as the city faded in the distance the farther the rural road took him. The automatic windows lowered and the volume of the stereo rose, chasing the speedometer as it clicked 55, 65,75,80.

The driver grinning as speed limit signs flew by completely ignored and the asphalt changed from richly lay new black top to the aged gray and gravel sides. Almost Home.

Blueish grey long hair spiraled wildly with the wind, maybe 100 years and then some had been a long time to be away from this realm. However, the wait had been well worth it .

Ciel Phantomhive-Michaelis loved this new age of the millennial, and the wide open roads that cried freedom. His dear sister-in-law had been right, America was an excellent choice.

The navy GTO pulled down the long dirt drive, parking next to a black dodge Ram. Ciel had to roll his eyes at the vanity plate every time he saw it. DMN BTLR " Idiot..." he scoffed pocketing his keys and heading up the walk way to the farmhouse.

Inside he was greeted at the door by a trio of felines, considering the demons own species - Ciels former detest for the creatures from his days as a human had more or less vanished. Though he still did not express such deep admiration for the house cats as his mate.

"Afternoon Girls, where is that old crow hmm?" Ciel said with a little smirk as he deposited his keys in a bowl by the door.

Each of the cats, having had their fill of purring about his ankles, darted off in a single file line at their masters orders and into the living room.

Ciel rounded the corner and into the room as the fluffy trio bounded up on to the back of the sofa mewing in unison.

"Now if only you could teach them to find the remote." A lower sultry tenner lit from the cushions below the felines followed by a pale elegant hand reaching up to scratch the middle girl, a gray and black tabby named London, behind her ears.

Ciel fained a laugh and slipped around the side of the furniture item. He then unceremoniously climbed atop of the lounging elder demon . Not that Sebastian would have protested.

"I can do without the remote." Ciel said, plucking the book from the ravens hands and tossing it across the room.

Again this had not been protested in the least. "So by that you can not do with out me?" Sebastian smiled at the blush on the bluenettes face.

"Idiot." the slighter male muttered before laying his head on his mates chest. "I didn't say that so don't flatter your self."

The raven wrapped his arms around his husband, angling his head to clans at their reflection on the black surface of the TV screen. "Oh forgive me I forgot how self sufficient you have become."

Ciel hummed in approval. "So sufficient in fact I finished my contract with that moron Bradly today."

"Am I to assume he acted as childish as you has anticipated?" Sebastian said slipping his hands under the soft silken navy button up Ciel was wearing, letting his fingertips play along the young mans spine.

"He begged, You know ... the first time that was rather satisfying, now its just pathetic." Ciel arched his back to the touch before recanting his last contract.

Ian Bradly, age 29, profession lawyer for the Charles and Associates Law Firm. One of Atlanta's premier firms for the legal defense of Southern societies elite.

Bradly however was less than notable, in fact by firm standards he was the ; low man on the totem pole'. None the less, he has a chance to change that; he was given a case with Joseph Charles, the firms founders grandson, together they would be defending a well known pro athlete from some rather... unsavory charges. Of which the man in quest was actually guilty of committing but that was irrelevant to them.

They where able to secure their clients innocence but Bradly did not reap the rewards of a job well done. In stead he was thrown under the bus by his co-council as young Charles took all the credit.

That's when Ian mad a critical mistake, he let rage get the better of him.

Luring his junior out for some after work celebration intend of giving the younger man a solid black eye; costing him his hob or not it would be worth it.

Unfortunately things did not end with a harmless hit to the face leaving little more that a nasty shiner for all to gawk at. No, it ended with Bradly standing over the beaten dead body of Joseph Charles.

"Oh no..Oh god.." Ian muttered staring down at his bloodied hands. It didn't seem real. Everything had happened so quickly and now he was going to lose everything. "Please.. someone..anyone..I'd give anything to make this go away!" He whispered to the cold lonely night, vigorously trying to scrub the drying blood off on his trouser legs. All the while never expecting an answer.

"Anything? you say?"

The human froze at the echo of a voice, his eyes darting to the ally entrance where he expected to see the glow of amber street lamps only to find nothing but murky black. An Inky darkness that has stolen away his only exit.

The air around him grew impossibly colder and the puddles along the filthy asphalt froze over. "how?" Ian breathed, terrified when the word left his lips in a grey puff of condensation. It was summer this wasn't possible.

Out if the darkness shown two fuchsia cat like eyes.

Ians' heart thundered as he made a mad scramble atop a near by dumpster. He tried to reason this all away - a mysterious cold front? some escaped animal from a sanctuary or zoo? The more he thought it over the better it sounded to his panic stricken mind. Perhaps the animal would maul the corpse removing the evidence of a crime. It would look like some freak attack and he would get away clean.

But the voice tore away that wonderfully mundane explanation.

"For someone calling for help your not showing much regard for your savior." The words accompanied by the sound of heavy claws tapping on concrete began to melt away into the sound of footsteps.

"Savior?" the sniveling human called back.

There was an indignant little snort as the black haze began to dissipate. Standing there was a lithe beautiful young man, his blueish gray hair was pulled back into a low pony tail with thickly cropped fringe framing his face. His features where striking, delicately pointed chin, high rounded cheekbones and eyes of the clearest deepest sapphire. He stood around 5' 6" wearing a black v-neck- the sleeve long and obscuring his knuckles, well fit navy jeans and silver toes boots.

"Yes, you asked god to be saved however I'm afraid he's to busy to deal with such a tainted soul. I on the other hand have a clear schedule." the young man spoke in a posh London accent exuding an air of power and aristocracy.

"I..don't" Bradly was struggling to make sense of all this. "How can you help me?"

"Simple" the youth said crossing his arms , "I'm a demon. Make a contract with me and I can make your deepest desires a reality."

Of course Ian accepted, From that day on Ciel served as Bradlys' personal assistant. Insuring that no one ever knew what happened to the young and promising litigator that was Joseph Charles. In addition Ians' one desire, while it wasn't a very creative one, was to take his rivals place. To become everything the grandson of the Firms founder would have become. The thirst for power that had subconsciously driven the man to murder.

And climb the social later he did, with the aid of his demonic PA Bradly stacked up a reputation of being infallible in the courtroom. Six months after the beginning of their contract Bradly began dating the granddaughter of Firms founder, sister to the man he murdered. Ciel found this almost humorous how easily the human could croon sweet nothings to the debutante promising her the world on a silver platter. Three months after that the two would be married, his contract had done most of the work for him and he didn't even know it.

On the afternoon of Ian Bradlys wedding his ever capable demon stood off to the side looking horribly bored and annoyed having already shirked off the affections of several overly friendly brides maids. Ian cause the demons gaze and smiled, how foolish. Ciel returned the fake sentiment and walked over to were the human was sipping crystal with his groomsmen of which Ciel had been one of at the ceremony.

"Well well, finally pulled your self away from brooding corner to join the festivities I see."

Ciel plastered on his fake smile taking a flute of the bubbly golden alcohol form a tray. " Yes, actually I'd like a word with you in private if I may."

Ian laughed and took in a few more congratulations before excusing himself slinging his arm around the others shoulders. To this Ciel fought the urge to tear the mans arm off and beat him with it.

"So what do you want to talk about?"

Ciel lead the human way from the party down a trail. " Our contract, I have to say you have made this inevitably easy, well not just you but this ages technology. It's not nearly as difficult to fake ones death or disappearance."

Ian let out a bit of nervous laughter thinking Ciel was talking about the death of his former co council." Yeah, I guess your right about that. Trust me when I say I never thought I'd agree to something like this or that it wouldn't be ... well like all the old fairy tails about terrifying monsters. Your a fairly personable guy for a demon."

"I thank you for the compliment but it is unnecessary as i truly doubt you will fill the same about the ..' lack of terror' in a moment."

"What are yo-?" Ian never finished his sentence when the demon slammed him against a tree holding the man up by the throat with so much ease the bluenet looked bored.

"Perhaps I wasn't clear enough, you see this is the end of your contract. Your desire has been fulfilled. You wanted to replace Joesph Charles and you have, by marrying his sister you are now in line to inherit everything he would have. In effect you are him, believed by his family ... the shining star in his Grandfathers eye. You've won, this checkmate Ian the game is done. Time to pay up."

The human struggled and croaked out pleas years gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Please..Please, I ..I just got everything I wanted how can you kill me now? Listen to me! We..We could rule this city!"

Ciel rolled his eyes, "really...you think i care at all about ruling this little hole in the wall? I was a captain of industry before your pitiful family even stepped off the boat in this country!. I had the whole of England fear my name before the age of 15, you have nothing to offer me that i haven't already had in a far more interesting sense. Now, if you will excuse me I'll be taking your soul as I have a cheesecake at home that I would like to eat in the bath along with loads of sex with my mate. Ta!"

" You really told him you where going to have cake and sex?" Sebastian had to stifle his giggles.

Ciel sat up straddling the demon, "Not necessarily in that order..I might like to work up an appetite, that sub par soul did nothing little to hold a candle to some of the other flavors I'd had the good fortune of tasting."

Sebastian growled sitting up to capture his mates lips in a heated kiss. "what a little minx my young lord has become."

"mmm, hell has that effect on someone. Take me to bed Sebastian..that's an order."

Laying wrapped in bed smiles of post coital bliss, Ciel was pleased that he had cake during which lead to some rather erotic uses for the macerated cherry topping meant for aforementioned cheese cake. More ending up on the both of them than the cake. Even Sebastian had to admit licking the syrupy stick sweet off of the neko demons taut stomach had been a wonderful idea.

"We need a bath I'm not laying in this all night."The bluenette commented stretching his hands up over his head hissing slightly at the soreness flaring up his spine.

The elder of the two ran black nailed fingers up the slender back of his companion, admiring how the now defined yet not overbearing musculature moved beneath the creamy complexion. "Go and start the shower and I'll put on the clean sheets." Sebastian's voice was low and warm leaning over to press a kiss to Ciels hip before the other slipped out of bed.

It would seem that our two favorite demons have found peace in this new human world. The warm breeze of tranquility that furls the sheer white curtains of the quiet secluded farm house framing their new life like a postcard.

However, just beyond those white wash shutters and lurking in the high grass slithers a pair of copper reptilian eyes.

"Soon Michaelis... soon you'll know what it feels like to be betrayed,to feel the death of one you hold dear, Soon.."

~~~ “At home there tarries like a lurking snake, Biding its time, a wrath unreconciled, A wily watcher, passionate to slake, In blood, resentment for a murdered child.”- Aeschylus (Greek playwright 525 BC – 456 BC)~~

Chapter 25: Authors Update!

Chapter Text

So I have book two ready it is call Kuroshitsuji: Serpents Revenge so enjoy its out ..now!

Series this work belongs to:

← Previous Work Part 2 of Kuro after years Next Work →

#black butler fanfiction

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kithtaehyung · 3 years

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with him. (m) | hyung line

title: with him. (m) pairing: hyung line x reader(f) genre/rating: 18+ ; smut word count: 1.2k summary: in which you remember all the ones before him. warnings: language, house party, penetration, oral, breast play, sl*t/wh*re nicknames notes: this is just a quickie for the wonderful hyung line enthusiast @joheunsaram !! i don’t know what came over me bc this just.. produced itself, so happy birthday LOL i hope you like it! if you don’t, you can crumple it, chuck it in the bin, and pretend this never happened sdjklfsd. also, all pics other than the boys can be found on my aesthetic blog @brandisher 🤎

With Hoseok, it started as a blur and ended as a blur.

The house party was in full swing, with bass thrumming from the floor into your sneakers and drinks sloshing onto your clothes.

You remember getting there, and you remember the way Hoseok stared at you once you entered the crowded kitchen, paying no attention to the girl latched onto his neck.

But sometime between that and having a feeling of fulfillment and soreness between your legs, the pair of you had rushed into a guest bathroom--upstairs, downstairs, even that was hazy--tearing into each other like savages.

“I still taste her on your neck.”

“Who the fuck are you talking about?”

It was quick. Unbridled.

The way he had his fingers lodged into your cunt while you pressed against the sink, the way he ravaged the sweaty expanse of your neck, the way his cologne assaulted your senses and blew out your eyes.

All of it was so fast.

But you do remember the way he felt between your legs, the way he shoved your panties aside and slapped your thighs to widen your stance, the way he sneered at you when you said he wasn’t going fast enough.

Each thrust launched you upward, your lower back digging into the sink but neither of you giving a single shit. Your pussy throbbed around his cock, suctioned him in with fervor and tenacity.

“You’re so tight.”

“You’re so talkative.”

The way he clawed at your clothes and raked his hands across your back had you almost feeling like there was something more there, but you knew there wasn’t. What you had was the result of constant bickering, constant petty comments, sparking tension every time you existed in the same space.

It was bound to happen.

And it all happened in a blur.

With Yoongi, it only meant to be a one night thing that turned into two.

The first was the result of low morale and plenty of merlot.

You had just gotten back from the latest of a string of terrible dates, and your roommate had been there as the voice of reason and reassurance like always.

Except that time, reason was chucked out the window as soon as his fingers found their way onto your thighs.

The moment your eyes locked with his, he had pulled you in for a kiss, and the next thing you knew you were lying in his sheets.

Your clothes littered the hallway and stayed there until the next morning, abandoned as Yoongi trailed his lips from your neck to your hips.

“What are we doing?”

“Fucking.”

A pause.

“Well, after I do this first.”

His tongue played your cunt and made you sing for him, riding the waves of pleasure again and again as he kept your legs pried apart and shuddering so, so violently.

Tears tracked down your face as you became overwhelmed, and that’s when he covered you with his sweatered body and filled you with his length.

It was only supposed to be a one time thing.

But a couple days later, when you leaned on the kitchen counter to eat cereal for dinner, the view alone warranted a second, sober night.

That time it was measured. Needy. Intentional.

Each thrust was as deep as the way his tongue swiped into your mouth, each kiss on your neck heavy as you pulled at his smooth shoulders.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Yoongi, fuck…”

He was attentive and rode through your high when you came, grunting and straining to keep his sweaty muscles together on top of you.

And after it was over, the creeping fear that you could feel things for your roommate sunk its talons in your skin.

And nothing ever happened again.

With Seokjin, it was casual and had nothing to do with feelings altogether, even though he made you see stars.

It was days after when you realized that sex with him was inevitable, that the jokes you always made with each other had a twinge of seriousness and purpose. He was just a friend, after all, which made it easy to get together as soon as you both agreed nothing would come of it.

But even though there were no feelings.

It didn’t mean you didn’t make each other feel.

“Holy fuck, you’re good.”

“I know.”

Seokjin knew exactly what he was doing and his experience let him learn your body quickly. Within seconds he knew what to do with you, and your body bloomed with each discovery, your mouth hanging open like it couldn’t shut itself anymore.

His lips felt so good on your breasts, his hot tongue lolling and teeth scraping with just the right pressure. His fingers dug into your waist as soon as he had you on your hands and knees, his cock burrowing inside of you and elevating your soul to the heavens.

“You’re taking it so well, babe.”

“Oh, my god!”

Unrelenting, he had buried your body into the bed, throwing his sweaty chest onto your back when you both were getting closer and closer.

And even after a handful of times, it remained casual--an anomaly that lasted purely because the both of you were so lax about it all.

But with Namjoon?

The man you had met along the way?

Just his stare was enough to render you speechless.

You didn’t know what to do with that feeling.

Maybe it was the way he was so different in the bedroom than he was outside. Maybe it was the way he could both dominate you and make you feel unstoppable.

Or maybe it was the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear between the most raunchy, dirty words you’ve ever been told. The names he would call you, the insults he would grit out.

Voice low and gravelly, he would turn you into a quivering mess on those alone.

“I bet you love begging on your knees, slut.”

“My baby’s so good for me.”

“Nu uh, take it all in like a dirty whore. Just like that.”

“Fuck, what are you doing to me.”

You felt like a wild animal, caged within his bulky arms and roped in with his lustful gaze. Thrashing when he made you come for another time--you lost count every night--you pleaded and pleaded, to no one. You didn’t know if you were pleading for him to stop or to keep going. All you knew was his name, and basic speech, and that there was no way you could stand on your own for the next twelve hours.

As raw as the sex with Namjoon was, he always knew how to make you feel loved. Feel wanted.

All the others before him did to some degree, as well, but you knew that he was focused on you and you alone. There was no question with him.

You had stared into so many eyes, peered into so many souls.

But his was the one that looked right back without wavering. Without doubt. Time stopped; you weren’t counting down the nights; feelings existed and lasted like a reddened hearth.

With Namjoon, it was like coming home.

a/n: yes, so this was just a quick, idk what happened in the middle of the day but yeah thing! i’m always down to talk about my fics or what have you in my inbox, and here is my masterlist if you would like to browse! happy happy birthday, mars!🤎

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions #hyung line fic #houseofddaeng #blacklist tag for fics:#*ryenfictalk #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #hyung line x reader #ryenwrites #presents!#fanfic #bangtaninn #bangtansorciere #*latest

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

Text

Humans are Weird: D&D Part 3

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) Human Barbarian: I roll to decapitate the shop keeper. Alien DM: Is there a reason you keep on decapitating LITERALLY everyone you meet? Barbarian: My character can’t die unless he falls in battle. Alien DM: But they aren’t battles if you kill them in one blow. Barbarian: True, but my guy has been around for hundreds of years and now just kills people for fun. Alien DM: *Looks at other party members* Is this normal? Wizard: Honestly it’s pretty tame for a barbarian. Rogue: At least he’s not the bard that became a necromancer. Alien: What happened with them? Wizard: They became a necromancer just so they could woo the woman that killed herself after talking to him. Alien: *Looks at Necromancer* Really? Necromancer: I was very proud of my seduction streak and I wasn’t about to let death break it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien: Why do you always pick humanoid characters? Alien: Why not team up with something that is as large as a bear? Thief: We used to have a Loxodon fighter in the party, didn’t end well. Alien: What happened? Monk: We got trapped in a room flooding with water and only one way out. Warlock: The Loxodon insisted on going first through the doorway because they were afraid of water, but then became wedged in the tiny frame and couldn’t get free. Alien: How did you escape? Monk: We didn’t; we all drowned to death. Alien: If you all died then how are you here talking with me? Thief: Let’s just say we owe a man of questionable magic practices a lot of money. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warrior: Wizard, cast fireball on my sword! Alien Wizard: Why? Warrior: So it will catch on fire and do fire damage as well! DM: I’ll allow it. Alien Wizard: Okay. *rolls a nat 20* DM: Your fireball impacts the sword dead on and melts it instantly. Warrior: What? DM: What do you think happens to cheap metal after it’s been super-heated? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DM: As you sift through the remains of the now fallen lich lord you come across his most powerful weapon. Alien players: *getting excited* DM: A cursed blade slaked in the blood of a thousand thousand victims, each one adding their strength to whomever wields this mighty blade; the most powerful weapon you have ever come across. Alien players: *Really excited now* Alien warrior: Does it have a name? DM: *Nods* It is called……the Bunny Fluffer. Alien warrior: What? You can’t be serious. DM: I did say it was a curse blade. Alien: How can a blade called the “Bunny Fluffer” be cursed?!? DM: Every time you use it in battle you must loudly announce that you are attacking with the bunny fluffer. Alien warrior: You monster! That’s so evi- Alien warrior: *Now realizing why it is cursed* ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human: If I feed a Locathah sushi, am I committing a hate crime or unknowingly making them a cannibal? Alien DM: WTF man?!?!? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human DM: You find yourself in a very suspicious village. Alien: You can’t just label an entire town as suspicious. Human: Roll a perception check then. Alien: *Rolls 20* Human DM: You see the town square barren save for a giant stone slab at the very center, the surface of it covered in strange red glyphs that seem to bleed the longer you stare at it. Human DM: The towns people all full length cloaks that hide their appearance with hoods so deep you cannot make out a single detail of their faces. They speak no words nor make a sound as they shift and to and fro between the buildings. Human DM: You stare up at the sky and see it thick with grey clouds that appear to bulge and retract randomly as if they are holding something within. Alien: Alright, alright, we get it. Alien: No need to be so on the nose about it. Human: You walked passed a mass murder drenched in blood because one of you saw the bar tenders dog run outside and wanted to go pet it. Human DM: I take no chances now. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: You find yourself locked in the mansion, the body of the host laying across the ballroom floor as all the guests and staff look on. Alien DM: Any one of them could be the killer. Human Warlock: I say we lock all the doors and burn the house down. Human Paladin: What? Human Rogue: That’s a bit extreme. Warlock: Listen, I’ll cast a spell that will make anyone with a guilt free conscious fire resistant. Warlock: That way when the house is on fire only the killer will catch fire and everyone else would be safe. Rogue: I guess that might work…. Paladin: Still… Warlock: Look, I’ll even stay inside to prove how trust worthy it is while you all wait outside and bar the doors. Paladin: Very well. *some time later after the mansion burned down* *Party sees only the warlock remaining among the ashes* Paladin: Impossible! Paladin: They couldn’t all have been the killer! Warlock: True, but their minds were not guilt free so I’m afraid they caught fire. Rogue: So you knowingly just had us kill an entire mansion’s worth of people. Paladin: How are you still alive?! Warlock: Simple; I did not feel the slightest bit guilty about it. Warlock: *Proceeds to remove an artifact that collects the souls of the recently deceased* ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: Pick your characters. Human: I am a Halfling necromancer. Human 2: I am an elf necromancer. Human 3: I am a human necromancer. Alien: Seriously?! Alien: Does no one want to be something else? Human 4: I am an orc shaman. Alien: Well thank y- Human 4: That dabbles in necromancy. Alien: Gods damnit! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human DM: And with that you have finally slain the great dragon Human DM: The town of Scabersburgs will forever be in your debt. Alien Wizard: That was a stupid encounter, let’s end it here. *Human DM makes note as the group leaves for the night* *Next week’s encounter* Human DM: You return to find the town of Scaversburg in the grips of a deadly plague. Human DM: The town’s folk are being driven mad as over the last few days many of them have begun growing scales across their body, talons where their fingers once were, and some have even begun sprouting lizard like wings and tails. Human DM: As they see you all return to the village their collective shouts of anger roar across the town as the entire city springs forth to hunt you down. Alien Wizard: Wait what!? Alien Wizard: I call bullshit; how could this suddenly happen?! Human DM: Well, if you had waited long enough to hear the dragons dying words he placed a powerful curse on his blood that any who should drink of it shall become as he once was. Alien Wizard: That’s still bullshit! Alien Wizard: No way the villagers would just walk up to a dead dragon and drink its blood. Human DM: Unless because you failed to dispose of the body the blood seeped into the ground and mixed with the towns water supply, thus contaminating everyone. *Group angrily looks at Wizard that encouraged them to leave early* Human DM: Roll for initiative. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: As you make camp deep within the frost mountains of Galgieth you find that your provisions bag has torn open and you have no food to eat. Alien DM: Unless you act quickly you will starve to death. Wizard: I got this. Wizard: *Turns to barbarian* Wizard: Cut off my left arm. Barbarian: Done! *rolls a nat 20* Alien DM: *Confused* You chop off the left arm of your wizard, the limb falling lifelessly to the ground as spouts of blood pour out. Wizard: I cast regeneration to regrow my severed limb. *Rolls a nat 20* Alien DM: *Still confused* Your left arm grows back as if it was never gone. Wizard: I put my severed limb over the open fire to cook. Alien DM: You want to turn your party into cannibals? Rogue: Wouldn’t be the first time.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #funny #short #banter #dnd #d&d

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

All Men Have Limits - II

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 4,300+

Previously on...

When Y/N arrived at the master bedroom, she was surprised to find the door slightly ajar. She knocked always and found Bruce turning to face her, shirtless and only in his boxer briefs.

Bruce seemed subtly surprised to find Y/N standing in his doorway and not Alfred. But he didn’t seem to be embarrassed by the state Y/N found him in.

Along with the first aid kit, Y/N had grabbed two ice packs from the freezer.

“I’m fine,” Bruce told her before she could even offer to help him.

“You can either deal with me or you can deal with Alfred,” she threatened.

“Your choice,” she added when she saw how serious he took her warning.

Bruce’s heavy sigh was the only answer she’d get.

“Come on,” Y/N nudged her head toward his en-suite bathroom that was probably twice the size of most people’s studio apartments.

She pointed to one of the steps that led up to the giant bathtub, silently instructing him to sit.

“Put these on your ribs,” Y/N instructed as she handed him the ice packs.

To her surprise, Bruce did as she asked.

“I don’t need stitches,” he mumbled as he watched her open the first aid kit.

“I know,” she answered. “Which is lucky for you, because I have no idea how to stitch people up.”

She dabbed some cotton in hydrogen peroxide. “But…you still need to clean those cuts or they’ll take longer to heal and probably scar.”

Once again, Y/N was surprised to see that Bruce did as she said. He didn’t complain or refuse her assistance – just sat there silently. The man didn’t even flinch and Y/N knew she was causing his injuries to sting.

“What happened tonight that has you so upset?” Y/N finally asked after silently caring for him for a few minutes.

“What makes you think I’m upset?”

She sighed softly. “I’ll be the first to admit that you’re nearly impossible to read. But clearly something happened that caused you to storm out of the cave like you did.”

Bruce didn’t respond.

“Was it them?” Y/N asked carefully. “The Court?"

For a moment, she thought he’d ignore that question too.

“They know I’m protecting you. Well…they know that Batman is protecting you.”

Y/N shrugged. “We knew they were gonna figure it out eventually.”

Bruce remained silent.

“Did they send the Talons after you?”

From his expression, Y/N knew she was right.

The Talons were a group of lethal assassins that did all of the dirty work for The Court of Owls. They were highly trained, almost entirely undetectable, and a force to be reckoned with. Probably only second to the League of Assassins when it came to deadliness.

“That’s why Jason was with you,” Y/N pointed out. “You needed backup.”

“We had it under control,” was all Bruce said.

“I know you were already going after The Court,” Y/N told him gently. “And you need my help.” She hesitated and took in a shaky breath, “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“What was your plan?” Bruce asked.

“What do you mean?”

“When I came to you and told you that you’d been made, you said that you knew. What was your plan?”

“Run. And keep running. You and I both know I’m hopeless when it comes to an actual fight.” She shrugged. “My plan was to keep working on exposing them and stay alive long enough to see it through.”

Y/N waited for some sort of lecture, for Bruce to tell her that it was a stupid plan and she had been sloppy. She waited to feel patronized and belittled.

But Bruce just stared at her.

“What?” She challenged.

“I wish you would prioritize your life a bit more.”

She moved back a little from cleaning his cuts and snorted. “What? Like you?”

Then she shook her head and went back to cleaning his cuts. “You’re so not the person to be lecturing about self-preservation, Bruce.”

Then Bruce surprised them both.

He grabbed Y/N by the back of her neck and brought her down to him before his lips collided with hers.

She dropped all the medical supplies in her hand from the shock of it all. But then she was cupping his face and kissing him back.

Next thing she knew, Bruce had steered her body so she was straddling his lap.

It had been so long since that night that Y/N had almost forgotten what his lips felt like. Or how his hands touched her so tenderly, but his intent was always clear and effortlessly confident.

But then Y/N’s leg accidentally collided with one of Bruce’s bruised ribs.

It didn’t deter him. He had every intention of ignoring it.

But Y/N felt his body tense in pain and she swore she felt the vibrations of the quietest pained moan from him.

She could’ve imagined it, but she wasn’t going to continue knowing that she had the ability to accidentally hurt him.

But it was also her saving grace. Because Y/N shouldn’t be doing this.

Y/N reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. Bruce allowed the movement, but his grip on her waist and neck didn’t ease in the slightest.

“You should rest,” she whispered to him.

Then she shoved herself away from him and awkwardly stepped backwards as if she was desperately trying to put space between them.

“Umm…make sure you keep that ice on your ribs,” she told him awkwardly, half turned away from him.

Bruce opened his mouth to stop her, but no words came out.

The next second, she bolted out of the bathroom and then his master suite.

Her mind was racing with so many thoughts that Y/N didn’t notice Dick catching her race into her own bedroom.

Dick looked between Y/N’s closed door and the direction of Bruce’s room, putting it all together.

—————

After the close call with the Talons, Bruce had all hands on deck. Even Jason – who usually did his own thing and had separated himself from family matters – had been brought into the fold. Which meant he was spending way more time around the manor.

Y/N knew things were getting serious.

Bruce wasn’t exactly keeping her in the dark. But he also wasn’t being forthcoming with information.

Y/N didn’t know if he was trying to shield her in some way…or if he was just doing business as usual and taking control, not allowing anyone in until he thought it was absolutely necessary.

Either way, through the chaos of it all, Y/N realized Dick hadn’t acted as her shadow in almost a week.

It wasn’t until Jason decided to bother Y/N that she realized what had changed.

Jason leaned backwards against the console Y/N was working on so she was forced to face him. He crossed his arms with a smirk and looked down at her.

“So, you and B, huh?”

“Get off my equipment,” she warned him darkly without even glancing at him.

But inside, she was internally freaking out.

Y/N made a point to keep as many facts about her life a secret. And her sex life? That was top priority when it came to her privacy. This was worst case scenario.

But also, how the hell did he figure that out?

Jason shrugged, but did as she asked and took a step away from the console. “He didn’t say anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Y/N finally looked up him. “Please tell me what I have to do to get you to leave me the fuck alone.”

Jason smiled and whistled. “I think I like you.”

“The feeling’s not mutual,” she mumbled as she began typing again.

“Jason, leave her alone.”

Y/N turned to see Dick walking into the cave.

Jason held up his hands in surrender and gave his brother an innocent face. “I was just trying to be polite to our guest, Richard.”

“I’m sure you were,” Dick side eyed him.

Jason then turned to Y/N and put on his Red Hood helmet. “I look forward to having more of these titillating conversations, Y/N.” Then he turned to Dick. “I’m heading out on patrol.”

He mounted his motorcycle and raced out of the cave, leaving Dick and Y/N alone for the first time in awhile.

“No patrol for you tonight?” Y/N asked him slowly.

“They’ve got it covered.”

She just nodded and didn’t ask any further questions.

All at once, they were submerged into strange silence. The air was racing with thoughts, yet the tension seemed to simultaneously make it thick, as well.

Y/N sighed. She might as well get this over with.

“I know you want to ask, so just ask,” Y/N mumbled as her fingers raced across the keyboard and her eyes never left the screens.

“Doesn’t the whole…” Dick really didn’t know how to put it delicately.

Y/N sighed, clearly annoyed with his fumbling. She turned around in her chair to face him. “Does his age bother me? Is that what you’re struggling to ask?”

Dick shifted his weight awkwardly, “I guess so. Yeah.”

She raised her brow. “Haven’t you dated a literal alien before?”

“That’s not the same thing,” he defended with a glare.

“Oh, so as long as the alien is the same age as you, it’s fine?”

Dick really didn’t have an answer for that.

“It’s just that…aren’t you a little young for him?” Somehow he managed to leave out the rudeness in the question. That must be the Wayne charm.

“Isn’t 9 a little young to put on a costume and fight crime?”

Dick sighed, “Touché.”

“I am one of the most successful hackers in the world. He’s a vigilante who dresses up as a bat. What about us screams normal and conventional to you, Dick?”

He knew she had a point.

“Plus, we aren’t in a relationship. It was a one-time thing. Nothing more. It happened a long time ago.”

However, she conveniently left out the heated kiss they shared last night.

“You sure about that?” Dick challenged.

Y/N just eyed him.

“Because the only women he’s had one-time things with are the one’s he’s used or paid to keep the image.” He took a step closer. “And they definitely didn’t know who he really was.”

Y/N tried not to let it show that his words caught her off guard.

This exactly what Y/N didn’t want.

She didn’t want anyone putting ideas in her head that she actually meant something to Bruce Wayne. Because she might make the mistake of believing it.

It happened once. They slept together once. One time.

Had there been a indescribable intensity between them since then? Yes. But Y/N didn’t like to acknowledge or think about that.

“Can we please stop talking about this?” She asked.

Dick blinked and shook his head. “Sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t mean to…make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N put her face in her hands and groaned.

Then she shot to her feet and faced Dick. If he wasn’t a vigilante who could break the average man in one swift move, he would be intimidated by the energy radiating off of her.

“Hmm…I wonder why this conversation could ever make me feel uncomfortable, Dick,” her sarcasm was almost too natural.

Then her face dropped.

When her body language screamed that she was embarrassed, that’s when Dick felt like a piece of shit.

“Look, we’re not…” She didn’t even know how to explain this. “We’re nothing. OK?”

Dick nodded slowly, “OK.”

And he believed her. Because she believed it. Whether that was the truth though, that was an entirely different story.

“We met years ago because I threatened to expose his identity to the world.”

Dick blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Y/N at least had the shame to look guilty about it.

“You threatened him? You threatened Bruce Wayne? The man who dresses up as a bat and scares the shit out of the criminals of Gotham?”

“I didn’t plan on actually doing it!” Y/N tried to defend. “I needed to get his attention. And guess what, it worked.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought back in time. “I discovered a sex trafficking ring. I had all the information, everything to take it down. I just needed a little…muscle.”

“And you thought Batman could be that muscle,” Dick finished for her.

She nodded.

Then Dick looked at the all the equipment. Her story reminded him what she was fully capable of and why she was here in the first place. “How did you learn to do all of this?”

It was obvious that he was trying to change the subject and give her an out. But she let him still.

Y/N shrugged.

“Is this the part where you tell me about all your degrees from various Ivy League universities?” Dick teased.

“I didn’t go to college,” she told him evenly.

“You di–How is that even possible?”

“I don’t agree with institutionalized higher education.”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” she warned him. “You didn’t go to college either.”

Dick scoffed and crossed his arms. “Of course that’s old information to you. Is there anything that you don’t know about me?”

She smirked at his obvious frustration. “I don’t know your favorite color.”

Though she had been teasing him before, her confession was genuine. And her soft tone didn’t go amiss with Dick.

For a moment, Y/N didn’t think he was going to tell her.

“It’s red,” he told her softly.

“Hmm,” she was surprised. “I always assumed it was blue…because of the uniform and all.”

“Red was always the color of my family’s costumes.” He knew the answer was rather vague.

Y/N’s face turned sympathetic, “The Flying Graysons?”

Dick nodded.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that she seemed to know everything about him.

“Red’s a good choice,” Y/N added with a sad smile.

But he realized what she was actually saying was her condolences. Somehow it was better than the forced and awkward “I’m so sorry” he constantly got.

Dick grabbed a chair and sat down to face her with such purpose.

“What else do you want to know?”

Y/N allowed herself to smile at the question.

“Everything.”

—————

Y/N got addicted to Dick’s openness.

Once Dick Grayson decided to trust someone…he really trusted them.

He didn’t hide himself from Y/N.

Unlike Bruce, Dick was easy to read. But Y/N knew that wasn’t the case for everyone. She saw the way Dick communicated with old team members or even on comms with his brothers.

But for Y/N, if she asked him something, Dick gave her the answer.

It was as simple as that.

There were no games, no hiding, nor withholding, not manipulation, no fear.

There was just Dick Grayson.

But Y/N also new he was capable of all of those things still. She’d seen him twist conversations and put the focus on the other person. He doesn’t seem to have any issue with blatantly lying. That’s when Y/N saw Bruce.

So why was she different?

————

“I can’t stay another second in this fucking house,” Y/N snapped one day.

They had just eaten dinner and were now sitting in one of the dens.

Dick laughed at her. “It’s not exactly a prison, Y/N. You’re in a mansion with everything you could ever need – and more.”

But this was the most time Y/N had spent in one place. She was always moving, always on the run. Yeah, she stayed in Gotham for the most part, but she missed the dangerous streets of the city.

“I’m not taking you out,” Dick gave her a warning look as he pointed at her.

“OK. First off, Bruce said nothing about me not being able to leave.”

Dick gave her a look that said, ‘How dumb do you think I am?’

“And if you were with me, then it’s fine. Right?”

“Y/N,” Dick groaned.

“And finally, I can do what I want,” Y/N added with a serious look.

“Sure you can,” he smirked.

But Y/N was being serious and she stood up. “I’m not his prisoner.”

Then she was headed toward the garage.

“No one said you were,” Dick called out after her.

He jumped in front of her, blocking her path.

“Y/N, you know more than anyone that The Court has eyes everywhere. Your face shows up on one street camera for a second and you’ll be tagged. They’ll follow you back here and then nowhere will be safe.”

“I know,” she answered as if it were obvious. “But we’re just going for a drive. Half of Bruce’s cars have tinted windows. And we’re going to take the backroads on the fringe. No street cameras. I doubt we’ll even see another car.”

Dick was adding up the risks in his head, calculating every possible outcome.

“Is Nightwing scared of what Batman will think?” Y/N teased.

Dick raised his eyebrow in amusement and crossed his arms. “Whatever game you’re trying to play…we both know I can play it better.”

She gave him the most innocent face.

Dick sighed. Was he really about to do this?

“Come on,” he told her.

“Really?” Y/N was shocked she got him to concede.

“But I’m driving. And we’re taking the bike,” he called over his shoulder as he turned on the lights of the garage.

‘Garage’ was an understatement. It looked more like a fancy warehouse that housed at least 20 cars and a dozen motorcycles.

“The bike?” Y/N questioned.

Dick chuckled. “What? You scared of riding motorcycles?”

Before she had the chance to answer, he pushed a helmet into her chest. It would fully cover her face and had a tinted visor shield on it.

“Need I remind you that this was your idea?”

Y/N glared at him and put on the helmet.

She watched a safe distance away as Dick started his motorcycle and revved he engine.

Even though she was wearing a helmet, he could still tell she was apprehensive.

“Come on,” he encouraged her gently before putting on his own helmet.

Slowly, she approached the motorcycle.

“Just swing your leg over – there you go,” he instructed.

Then he put on his helmet and Y/N realized there were comms linked between the two helmets so they could hear each other easily.

“Uhh…where do I–how do I hold on?” Her question stumbled out.

To her surprise, he didn’t verbally answer. Instead, Dick just reached behind him for her hands and placed them under his leather jacket and around his waist.

The contact felt strangely intimate. And Y/N hated that it made her heart race a bit faster. She hoped he couldn’t feel it as her chest bumped against his back. Hopefully he would just think it was her adrenaline and fear from the bike.

“Good?” He asked as he revved the engine again.

“I think so?”

Suddenly they shot out of the garage and raced down the long drive that led to the gate.

Y/N didn’t think Dick was going unusually fast, by any means. But the motorcycle made everything feel more extreme. She slowly started to put together why people liked riding them so much. It was a rush.

Dick did as he suggested and took backroads, avoiding any main streets or heavy-traffic areas. Which meant a lot of twists and turns.

But Y/N was surprised when he started to slow down and pulled onto a street that was just surrounded by forests. The sun had just set and the sky was colored pink and purple.

Dick turned off the bike when they reached a clearing. It was a meadow, with tall grass that moved like the ocean from the night breeze.

Y/N took off her helmet and grinned at the sight.

She turned to Dick, “Didn’t expect a city boy like you to know places like this…”

“City boy?” Dick looked insulted. “I was a traveling circus kid before Bruce took me in.” He looked out at the land, “This was one of our stops. We set up right over there,” he pointed to an open field where the ground was even and the grass was short.

Y/N’s face changed when she realized Dick had a connection to this place. It wasn’t just a stop off the highway. It meant something to him.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. It was hard to meet his gaze.

“For what?”

“Taking me here. For taking me anywhere, really.”

“Despite how enormous the manor is, it’s suffocating sometimes,” Dick tried to reason with her. “Has it really been so bad, being stuck with us?”

“No,” she quickly answered and took a step toward him. “How much time have you spent working with a team?”

Dick thought about it. “I mean, after leaving Bruce, I just went from one team to another. Even when I think I’m working alone, my family is always around the corner.”

Y/N gave him a sad smile, already knowing that would be his answer. “I never had that. It’s always just been…me.”

“Why?” Dick questioned.

He knew better than anyone that heroes found other heroes, whether they wanted to or not. And he knew from experience that a team had a stronger chance of changing the world for the better. Even Bruce gave up on being a lone warrior – despite him trying to believe he still is one.

“I don’t go after criminals that wear face paint and shoot guns, Dick. I go after the people that terrify others into silence and submission. I go after the people that most don’t even know we should be going after.” She shook her head. “It’s dangerous in a different way. And I never wanted to risk anyone else’s life but my own.”

“But when things go south, who’s got your back?” Dick challenged.

Y/N thought about it a moment and just shrugged.

Dick’s eyes saddened. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Y/N.”

She didn’t acknowledge his statement.

When there was a large gust of wind, Y/N closed her eyes as if it would help her body absorb the nature around them.

Dick allowed himself to take her in while her eyes were closed – all of her.

He still didn’t know so much about her past – what she’s seen, what she’s been through. But he felt like he understood her as a person. He saw how intelligent she was, how she explained things to Tim without sounding condescending or embarrassing him for not knowing. Or how patient she was with Damian when he was his bratty self, and she clearly saw his behavior for what it was: a child who didn’t know how to converse with normal people. And when Jason was a sarcastic smartass, Y/N gave it right back to him. Dick also didn’t miss how Y/N offered to help Alfred cook and clean up as if it wasn’t his job.

The moment Dick was having as he looked at Y/N was interrupted by his phone.

“100 bucks that it’s Bruce,” Y/N griped.

And when Dick pulled it out from his pocket, lo and behold, Bruce’s name was lit on the screen.

“Hello. Yeah, she’s with me. We just went for a drive. We’re heading back now.”

As soon as he hung up, Y/N asked, “Was he pissed?”

“He was extremely calm, which is probably not a good sign.”

But Dick didn’t seem too concerned with Bruce’s wrath. He’d grown out of that long ago.

“Come on,” he nodded to his parked motorcycle.

Y/N slid on the bike behind him with much more confidence and finesse this time. And there was no hesitation as she wrapped her hands around around Dick’s waist. He swore her grip was tighter too.

“Ready?” Dick still asked her.

But then his hand seemed to have a mind of his and slid over the grip she had on his waist, brushing across one of her hands almost…affectionately.

He didn’t even realize he did it until a few seconds afterward.

“Mhmm,” Y/N hummed.

The ride back was less peaceful. The sun had gone down and if they weren’t in view of Gotham’s city lights, they couldn’t see their surroundings. It also didn’t help that they knew they were returning to the manor to face Bruce.

When they parked inside the garage and turned off the engine, they both heard Bruce call Dick’s name from inside.

Y/N winced, but quickly recovered.

She squeezed Dick’s upper-arm. “Don’t worry. This is on me.”

Before Dick couldn’t argue and say he wasn’t scared of Bruce, Y/N was walking back into the manor.

“Need I remind you that you’re number one on The Court of Owls’ hit list?” Bruce told Y/N darkly.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and slacks. It was an off-duty look for him, but he still looked like he was in some sort of uniform.

“Dick had nothing to do with it,” Y/N defended calmly. “I threatened to photoshop nudes of him and sell them to TMZ and the Daily Mail.”

Bruce shared a look with Dick over Y/N’s shoulder, proving that he already knew Y/N had made no such threat.

“I’ll be in my lab,” Y/N announced, deciding to end the conversation before it could turn into a lecture or argument.

When she passed Bruce, Y/N turned around and gave Dick a grateful smile before mouthing, ‘Thank you’ to him.

Now it was just Bruce and Dick.

“If you want to lecture me, just get it over with,” Dick sighed.

“You know better,” Bruce answered.

“She was going to leave whether I went with her or not. I thought it was best to keep an eye on her. I wasn’t stupid about it, Bruce.”

“Don’t let it happen again.”

Dick glared at him. “We can’t keep her locked up here forever.”

“She’ll stay until we take down The Court. Until then, she’s at risk.”

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Careful, Bruce. It’s starting to sound like you’re making this personal.”

But they both knew there was another meaning behind his words. Dick saw Bruce put together what he was really trying to say. ‘I know you two have a history. I know what happened between you.’

But Dick didn’t know what was happening now.

Bruce just glared at him and said, “I could say the same to you.”

Then he turned and left.

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

Part III

Ooooooo. The drama!

Let me know what you think! Please 😔

#all men have limits #all men have limits chapter 2 #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne reader insert #batman x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #batboys #batfam #dick grayson x reader x bruce wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader x dick Grayson

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amortentiaboys · 3 years

Photo

Ahhh it’s here! This is a gift to the wonderful @avenueofesc as part of the @drarrymicrofic Wheel of Drarry mini exchange. Em, you’re a ray of light on the dash, the biggest microfic supporter and an all-round hilarious person. I tried to mesh some pining, oblivious boys, and hurt/ comfort, and also threw in some Warbling Glowworms and Patronus shenanigans for good measure! I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it.

RATED T | 4k

Harry’s twenty-five, a leading Healer on the Acute Curse and Dark Artifact Afflictions Ward at St. Mungo’s, and has a sound group of friends. So why does he constantly feel like he wants to crawl out of his skin? Draco Malfoy may be exacerbating the problem…or is he?

Featuring Warbling Glowworms, bacon sandwiches, and sharp edges.

WARNING: graphic description of an injury and blood

***

The first time Draco Malfoy turned up at 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry was expecting it. He wasn’t particularly pleased.

“Come on Hermione, it’s Malfoy!” Ron whined as Hermione bustled about. Harry nodded from the doorway, safely out of the way of both Hermione and the Warbling Glowworms she was Levitating into various spots around his living room.

She gave them her most unimpressed look. “Honestly, you two! Wasn’t it your idea to have an inter-house reunion party, Ron?”

“Well it was technically Theo’s, but—”

“—And didn’t Harry say he’d be more than happy to have the party here because he wants this house to be filled with laughter and people?” Hermione interrupted brusquely, “And because he might be a tad lonely? No offense, Harry.”

Harry shrugged. She wasn’t wrong.

Ron whined again, but set about wrestling some more glowworms from the crate Neville had brought over earlier.

Hermione gave a nod. “Well, that’s settled.”

Which is how Harry found himself face to face with Malfoy and Pansy on his doorstep. On a Saturday night. On one of Harry’s few days off from the Acute Curse and Dark Artifact Afflictions Ward at St. Mungo’s.

Wonderful.

“Hello, Potter.” Pansy was all angles and sharp edges, her red lipstick crisp around her sly smile and her nails tapered at the end like elegant talons. Perfect for ripping people’s throats out, Harry thought uncharitably.

“Pansy.”

An ostentatious cough drew Harry’s gaze to Malfoy, his pompous smirk the same as ever. The git.

Yet a voice in the back of Harry’s head that sounded suspiciously like Hermione reminded him that there were changes, if he looked hard enough. Malfoy had obviously just clocked out of a shift with the DMLE, his standard-issue wand holster strapped tight around his shoulders, his white shirt rolled up at the elbows. He’d loosened up since the war, his hair slightly wavy with a fringe long enough that slender fingers had to brush it out of his eyes every now and then, and his eyes—

“Did you know it’s usually polite to invite your guests inside, Potter?”

Draco’s drawl jerked Harry from his reverie, his smirk stretching wider as Pansy snickered next to him.

Harry took a deep breath, biting back a choice insult about ferrets and unwanted guests. “Of course. Come on in.”

***

Harry planned to spend the rest of the party staying as far away from Malfoy as possible. The problem was, Malfoy seemed to be everywhere: his cologne permeated the hallway, his laugh— raw and sharp around the edges with newness— cut through the cacophony of Seamus’ magically-enhanced sound system and the Warbling Glowworms. Harry even spied him being fawned over by Kreacher in the kitchen. Kreacher usually despised all of Harry’s guests with every fiber of his shriveled being, and made sure to broadcast it as loudly as possible when they were around.

Harry’s skin started to prickle, though from sweat or annoyance, he couldn’t tell. He retreated to the garden with his umpteenth Firewhiskey of the night, skirting around a rather preoccupied-looking Ginny and Pansy. He sought refuge with Neville and Hannah Abbott on the patio, until they started making Herbology-based innuendos that made Harry feel both clueless and wildly uncomfortable. To be fair, it wasn’t a great deal different from how he normally felt, but he decided it was best to leave them to it.

He wound his way through the garden until he came to his pond. It was the first part of the garden Harry had worked on ever since he unearthed a picture of Sirius, Lupin and his father lazing by it. The pond was luminescent with tiny water-foals, the air festooned with fireflies that dipped and danced over the dark water. Harry had grown some toadstools not too long ago on Ron’s advice, which some fairies had taken to shacking up in during the summer. Aside from their occasional laughter and jokes at his expense, it was a safe place, hidden away from the world by towering ferns. It was Harry’s favourite spot, the one where he could just sit and think and be vaguely uncomfortable in peace. Even Ron and Hermione rarely bothered him out here.

So it was utterly unsurprising that Malfoy had invaded it.

He was sitting on the stone bench— his bench, Harry’s brain supplied angrily— those impossibly grey eyes fixed on the pool, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together, white knuckled. The silvery trails left by the manes of the water-foals lit up his eyes in a way that Harry hadn’t seen since Fifth Year.

An age-old instinct to make Malfoy move, do something, to get under that iron-fisted, porcelain veneer, reared up inside Harry.

“I still stand by what I said.”

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #draco x harry #harry x draco #draco/harry #harry/draco #drarry squad #draco malfoy #harry potter #my fic #bea writes

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samstree · 3 years

Note

for the drabble thing: “you weren’t there”

maybe post mountain geraskier? i’m in an angsty mood rn but whatever you wanna write will be good :)

Creatures of the Night (2)

It's the night of Jaskier and Valdo's wedding. Geralt needs to do something.

(endgame geraskier, background valdo/jaskier, angst, infidelity)

Previous | AO3

The Oxenfurt Observatory might just be the grandest building in Redania.

The great hall is decorated with countless flowers and candles, giving the ancient walls a soft glow. Through the tall glass ceiling, stars are shining in the clear night sky, the perfect weather for a wedding.

It must be Jaskier’s idea, to be handfasted at midnight, to have his guests slow-dance under the moon and the stars until dawn breaks. Their new life will begin when the candles burn out and the first ray of light spills into the room.

If only there’s a competition for the biggest romantic on the continent. Jaskier could win without breaking a sweat.

The room is being filled up with guests—mostly bards and professors, old schoolmates of the two grooms. After all, both Valdo and Jaskier are Oxenfurt’s children, which means everyone is dressed in the most colorful clothes one could imagine. In another word, the room is being filled up with Jaskiers, and it’s getting loud.

It’s more difficult to locate the bard himself through the din of the room, but Geralt hears him, unmistakably. Jaskier’s heartbeat approaches the Observatory, thrumming with nervousness.

No more nervous than Geralt.

He breathes in, and exits the room in a few strides. And there Jaskier is, surrounded by pale moonlight, with jasmine flowers braided into his hair and pure joy painted across his cheeks. He seems to be murmuring a private joke to Essi, and they both burst into strings of giggles.

Geralt almost backs out.

“Geralt!” Jaskier notices him. “You came! I was worried for a moment.”

“Of course.” Geralt gestures to the outfit he helped pick out. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. Now, Poppet, can you give us a few moments?” Jaskier sends Essi inside with the sweetest smile. She shoulders past Geralt a little too curtly. There’s always an air of wariness whenever Essi regards Geralt, an untrusting side-eye here and there.

“Don’t mind her.” Jaskier waves when they are left alone. “Little Eye is a tad too protective. She’ll get over it.”

“Hmm.” Geralt swallows hard. “Can we find somewhere more private? I want to talk to you.”

Jaskier blinks, but leads them away anyway until they are by the side of the road, the celebrating crowd and the orange glow of candlelight in the distance.

“Here to make sure I end up someone else’s problem, aren’t you? Don’t worry, in about half an hour, I will be legally required to only bother Valdo for the rest of eternity.” Jaskier nudges Geralt in the shoulder, a jasmine slipping by his ear.

Geralt rights it without thinking, his fingers trembling.

Gods, he can’t say it. He can’t. Jaskier is so happy and Geralt will only ruin their friendship. His second chance is too precious to be risked—

“No, actually,” Geralt heaves out a breath, his heart pounding. “The opposite."

Jaskier snorts, “And, my dear witcher, what is the opposite?”

Here it goes.

“I am in love with you.”

The words sink into the silence. Geralt’s world narrows down to the steady rise and fall of Jaskier’s chest and the little hitch in his breathing. In the darkness of the night, Jaskier’s eyes stay in the shadows, his emotions obscured.

“No, you are not.” When he finally answers, it comes out in a snort. “Ha! A good one, Geralt! And they say witchers don’t have a sense of humor, idiots!”

Jaskier lets out another dry laugh, although the waver in his voice betrays everything.

“I am,” Geralt stresses again, “in love with you, Jaskier.”

Jaskier is staring, the upturn of his lips freezing into shock, the rise and fall of his chest picking up into a frenzy and suddenly he’s breathing too fast. “You can’t. You just can’t…” Air seems to trap in his lungs and a salty tang of tears hits Geralt full-force.

“I wish I couldn’t love, like what they say, but Jaskier, I can and I do—”

“You can’t do this to me!” Jaskier shouts, crying openly. “No, no! You don’t get to tell me this now! We had twenty years…”

Geralt wants more than anything in the world to pull Jaskier into his arms and wipe away the tears, but the space between them is too great. “I didn’t know for twenty years, Jask. Forgive me. It was only after the mountain that I learned how important you were to me. I couldn’t go on like this—”

“The mountain?” Jaskier chokes out a whimper. “You realized after the mountain? You mean when I bared my heart to you and you stomped on it like it was nothing?”

Geralt shakes his head, the guilt constricting his chest. “I’m sorry. For all the pain I caused you.”

“For months I thought I was but a mistake to you, that you hated me for two decades and couldn’t wait to cast me aside like dirt stuck on your shoes. Do you even know… Geralt, do you have an ounce of idea what I went through?”

Jaskier sways and Geralt catches him in his arms, placing his head on his shoulders and feeling the uncontrollable shakes running down Jaskier’s spine. The sight of Jaskier hurt because of him, again, pains Geralt more than any monster’s claws or talons.

“I love you, Jaskier,” he vows. “You were never nothing to me. You are everything. I was an idiot. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jaskier struggles and swats at his shoulders and Geralt takes it all the while murmuring more sweet nothings into his ear. Finally, when Jaskier calms down, it’s with another whimper. “You are an idiot.”

“I am.” Geralt cradles the nape of Jaskier’s neck, running his thumb in circles, soothing the last of the trembling away. “Just one word from you, Jask, I can take you away. You don’t have to marry him. Just give me the word and I’m yours. Gods, I’ve waited for so long for this day. At last, I’m sure of my heart, just as I’m sure of yours.”

He buries into Jaskier’s hair and inhales the grief and the flowers, and something that is distinctly Jaskier, expecting a whispered plea. Just one word from Jaskier and they can start their new life together.

What he doesn’t expect is the way Jaskier goes stiff in his arms and the hand that pushes him away.

The soft moonlight catches a glint in Jaskier’s eyes, and it speaks of determination. “Valdo,” he says, as if in a dream.

“You don’t have to marry him. We can lea—”

“Valdo will be here soon.” Jaskier sniffles and wipes at his tears frantically. His whole face is puffy from crying and there’s no way he can hide it. “It’s almost midnight.”

Geralt’s world comes to a stop.

“What?”

“Get inside, and don’t say anything about this.”

“I don’t understand. Jask, you don’t need to go through this anymore. I’ll give you anything you ask. Just say the words, please,” he begs for the first time in a century, catching Jaskier’s hand.

“I am saying it. Get inside. Sit in the back row and don’t speak to me. Valdo might be able to tell.” With a few deep breaths, Jaskier school his features back to neutral. “Only the gods know how he can read me like an open book.”

Geralt’s blood runs cold. “Do you love him?”

The anguish by the corner of Jaskier’s lips says everything. It remains as he smiles a crooked smile. “He loves me. Oh, Geralt, he loves me. I can’t hurt him like this.”

“I thought,” Geralt looks down in shame. “I thought I knew your heart.”

“I thought I did too.”

“Then why?”

“You weren’t there,” Jaskier shrugs like it’s the easiest explanation. “He was.”

Despite every cell in Geralt’s body screaming against it, he nods and lets go of Jaskier’s hand, allowing his limp fingers to slip from his grasp at last.

Jaskier has asked it of him after all.

He doesn’t know how he got back into the crowd, the warm light only a blur in his vision. Another group is stopping near the hall, among them is the other groom-to-be. Valdo’s worried voice when he sees Jaskier is another blow to Geralt’s chest.

“Oh, Julian, are you crying?”

“Just…too happy.”

There’s the sound of kissing, and Geralt can’t tune it out. He laughs at himself for the masochistic tendencies, but maybe he deserves the torture.

“No more tears. Let’s get married, my love.”

The guests settle, and the music begins.

The happy couple walks towards the altar in the witness of family and friends, and Geralt watches every moment of it.

If the smile on Jaskier’s face is a bit strained as the priest ties the ribbon, no one seems to notice.

---

A big thanks to anon for the prompt! I asked for some one-word or one-sentence prompts and the next thing I knew they were connecting into a whole story.

Each chapter of this story will be based on a prompt, so send in one if you want to steer it in certain directions ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #angst #background valdo/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #weddnings #unrequited love #requited unrequited love #valdo marx #endgame geraskier #ignore the fact that glass ceilings weren't a thing back then #also 'Oxenfurt Observatory' looks so nice

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

taking the fall (3)

warnings: imprisonment, interrogation, injury, mild blood, panic and sensory overload, dehumanizing language, ambiguous motives, morally neutral/antagonistic janus, snakes mention

His guest wasn’t eating.

Janus cast an irritated glance over to the terrarium, where the only “life” that could be seen was a clump of thick foliage in one corner.

He’d left the old fake plants in there as a taunt, but as soon as the tiny creature had ascertained that there were no snakes in the grass, they’d immediately bundled every bit of shiny plastic greenery into a makeshift nest and hid within it. He supposed he should have expected it, from one as industrious as these tiny folk all seemed to be.

Regardless of his guest’s reticence, he’d been setting small dishes of food in there whenever he himself took his meals, giving them some time to adjust to the reality of their situation. It had been a couple of days, however, and every miniature entree looked entirely untouched.

His prisoner seemed to be on a hunger strike.

It added more evidence to his theory that he was being misled in regards to his guest’s identity. If they were actually a victim in all this, why bother keeping quiet and refusing to give the answers Janus needed? Why go so far as to not even eat, for people who allegedly wouldn’t care if he lived or died?

No, things made much more sense if this was a gambit on the tiny people’s part, one of them volunteering to stay and play sacrificial lamb, distracting him for as long as the others needed. Their terror, their injury, their tiny bitter laugh, it could all be part of a ploy for pity on his end. Get him too invested in a puzzling prisoner while the others escaped.

The thought made his stomach drop unpleasantly. His opponents were exceedingly small, and he was one of the few who knew they existed. If they got away, he’d never see them again.

He couldn’t afford that.

Pushing his chair back, he approached the terrarium, casting an assessing eye over the food set out in it. Some of it could sit out, and had been there overnight, the best time for his guest to eat without risking even seeing Janus. But no. Not a single crumb out of place to indicate that anything had been eaten.

“Still alive?” he asked dryly, rapping a knuckle on the glass once.

There was a long pause, and then one of the leafy stems sticking out from the nest twitched twice. This daily question and response was the only communication he’d had with his guest since that first afternoon, and even this small, silent answer had originally been prompted by a threat of Janus reaching in there and checking himself.

“I notice that you’ve been refusing any sustenance,” he continued idly, and got nothing for his efforts. “Planning to die before you can give up any secrets?”

No response. Janus sighed as though put upon, and slid the terrarium lid halfway off. There were still no meaningful movements from the nest, though it seemed to be subtly trembling. It was impressive that despite the dark clothing that his guest wore, he still couldn’t make out exactly where they were even this close.

With narrowed eyes, he reached in and grabbed a few of the plastic leaves, tugging to pull the construction apart bit by bit.

He only caught the faintest flicker of movement before there was a sudden sharp pain in his index finger, and he yanked his hand back on reflex.

A weight came up with it, putting even more pressure on his wound, and it dropped as soon as his hand was just above the terrarium lid.

Seeing the dark shape attempting to scramble away, his other hand smacked down on top of it automatically, pressing it into the mesh with a small, muffled cry.

He glanced at his hand. There was a plastic thorn hooked in his thumb, the broad end chewed off and the point of it sharpened. His guest had attacked and used him as a makeshift lift in their escape attempt.

“Oh,” he intoned, voice dark. “Seems like you have plenty of energy after all, hm?”

---

Virgil took in short, gasping breaths, barely able to hear whatever threatening thing the human was muttering as pain radiated through his leg.

It let up just slightly as the pressure of the hand on top of him eased, his face no longer pressed into the cold wire netting of the cage’s top. Before he could try and string two thoughts together, the fingers were curling around him like a hawk’s talons, lifting him up and sending another jolt of mind-numbing pain through him. He might have whimpered.

So much for that escape attempt. He’d known it was a long shot, but his options had been limited after realizing that he literally couldn’t stand on the injured leg any more. They’d dwindled further with every day he couldn’t bring himself to crawl over to any food or water. Living outside, he’d survived on very little before, but it was a gamble every time.

He was flipped to face the light, the human’s head in silhouette above him. He couldn't make out it’s words. Everything felt overwhelming, made incomprehensible by the pain and the dark spots in his vision. His face felt hot. Was he bleeding?

Things went blissfully quiet above him, and then he was being moved. He wondered if the human was about to kill him, and the thought sent a much weaker pulse of panic down his spine than usual. He hoped it killed borrowers before feeding them to it’s snakes.

Something soft and dark dropped over him, and he thrashed for a moment before his leg reminded him how awful an idea that was. So he laid still instead, letting his terror shake through him in waves, until he wasn’t completely lost to it anymore.

Slowly, he lifted a hand, feeling at what was draped over him. Cloth, soft in texture and tightly-knit enough that not much light got through. Below him… a warm, living surface.

“Awake?” the human said, voice both closer and quieter than he’d ever heard it.

Another shudder worked through him, and he reached up to press his hands over his face, wishing none of this was real. His eye pigment had run, drying in tracks down his cheeks.

He wouldn’t be able to reapply it. The locket he stored it in was left behind with the rest of his stuff, tucked away into his oversized pack and left at the opening into the human’s home. It had probably already been torn through and picked apart by Mari and the other insiders.

The thought stung, somehow more personal than the nightmare of the situation he was already in.

“I believe I see now why you haven’t eaten,” the human continued with a surprising lack of snark. It must have seen his leg. He felt a little sick just thinking about it.

What had felt like a low-grade fracture through the adrenaline had ended up growing worse and worse without treatment, until the injury was a solid lump of swollen flesh and ugly bruising that twanged with agony at even the slightest shifts. He wondered if the human was going to use it against him. It would make torture exceedingly easy on its part.

“Continue with the silent treatment, and you won’t get any actual treatment,” it said, now sounding exasperated.

After another stretch of silence, the hand beneath him moved and tilted, sliding him off onto a flat surface. Suddenly desperate to know what was going on, Virgil yanked at the cloth, dragging handfuls of it down until he reached an edge and could pull it clear of his eyes.

The light in this room was dimmer, but it still took him a moment to adjust. He wasn’t in a snake tank, but on top of a low table in what looked like a sitting room, if he remembered the human terms right. The human was seated on the couch nearby, looking down at him.

“There you are.”

---

The tiny person shot him a furious glare, rendered mostly ineffective by the dark tear streaks that were still smudged along their face.

Janus wished his earlier reflexes had been a little gentler. He’d had a quite embarrassing moment of panic where he’d thought the grotesque worsening of their leg injury had been caused by his grasp, rather than simple neglect and lack of treatment.

Despite his patience, they didn’t reply, continuing to just stare at him. He stood, ignoring the way it instantly made them begin trembling again.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Feel free to move around and make your injury worse,” he instructed dryly, before turning and going to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.

His thumb was still sensitive, the injury messily scabbed over with dried blood. He’d pried the thorn out with his teeth easily enough, but with his other hand occupied by a prone tiny person and their hyperventilation fit, he couldn’t properly treat it.

Upon his return, he saw his guest had abandoned his handkerchief and was halfway to the edge of the table. He rolled his eyes, and set the kit down before grabbing them by the shoulders and sliding them back over to the handkerchief.

“I was being sarcastic, you know,” he told them, and opened the kit to start cleaning his undersized injury. “I’ll be very unhappy if my only source of information dies a completely avoidable death for no reason.”

“Yeah, because I sure wouldn’t want to make you unhappy,” his guest bit out, and then looked as though they were deeply and immediately regretting opening their mouth. Janus didn’t know why; he personally took much better to sass than being stabbed.

“So you do know how sarcasm works. Color me impressed.”

The tiny person actually hissed at him, like the world’s most emo kitten.

“Yes, yes, I feel very threatened,” Janus retaliated by prodding them with the edge of an open tube of arnica gel. “Here. For the bruising.”

After another long glare, his guest spoke. “What do you want for it?”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t it be argued that I owe it to you, for allowing the injury to fester while you’re in my care?”

“Your care--!” his guest cut themself off, taking in a deep breath through gritted teeth. “Terrible hosting etiquette aside, you weren’t the one who gave me the injury. Not your concern. So, what do you want?”

Janus wondered absently how tiny people qualified their hosts’ manners. He had certainly already failed by human standards, immediately imprisoning his guest and all, so perhaps it didn’t really matter either way. He wasn’t above taking advantage of a tiny person’s bartering honor system. “Answer three questions.”

“I get to pass on questions I don’t want to answer,” his guest countered quickly, apparently having expected this.

“You get five passes,” Janus allowed. Seeing what they refused to answer would be informative in itself.

“... Fine.” With another glance at their injury, they grabbed the tube sharply enough that they almost overbalanced. “Ask.”

“Where are the others living?” Janus asked, just to set the stakes high.

“Pass,” his guest answered, not even looking up from their task. Janus rolled his eyes.

“Why are you defending them?” he tried.

“I’m not defending them,” they shot back, vitriol thick in their voice. “I just don’t want you to get what you want. That’s one question.”

“Ouch. I’m hurt, really.” Janus tapped his nails along the table idly. “What’s your name and pronouns?”

This did prompt them to look up, face pinching up in confusion. After a moment, they returned to their baseline expression of scowl and retorted, “That’s two questions.”

“It’s one sentence, it counts as one question,” Janus lied smugly. They still looked close to passing, so he gave them a nudge. “Unless you want me to make something up? I’m very creative, I assure you.”

“I use he,” he finally grit out, “and you can call me V.”

“For Vendetta?” Janus mused, and received an utterly baffled look for his wit. “I suppose your movie repertoire isn’t that expansive.”

“Two questions,” V said flatly. “One left.”

“Yes, I can count.” Janus glanced at V’s gel-covered leg. “You have to rub that in for it to work.”

V’s expression flickered to one of despair, but he bit his lip and started to slowly massage the gel in. Janus wondered at how easily he’d believed him.

“What do you call yourselves?”

“Pass.”

“Where did you live?”

“Pass.”

“How do I bait the others out?”

“Pass.”

“Why do you hate me more than the ones who allegedly put you here?”

V’s hand slipped, and he winced and paused for a moment. “... Pass.”

There was certainly a grudge there. Too bad Janus had no idea what it could be about. Oh well.

He set a hand on the table, leaning over V. “When do the others plan to leave? As specific as you can get, please.”

“Pa--,” V cut himself off, and Janus could see the moment he realized he had used up all his get-out-of-questioning-free cards. He patiently waited out the tiny person’s fit of frustration.

“... I don’t know.” Janus’s smug grin dropped, but V continued after a speculative pause. “I don’t think they’ll leave before the season's turning. The spring thaw has been slow this year, and they’re-- not suited for it.”

Janus felt some of the tension drop from his shoulders. The start of summer. He had time, and the advantage of a weather forecast app. That was good news, even if he’d had to wrangle it out of his guest. He had time.

“How interesting,” he said lightly, and capped the gel to put it back in the box. V’s hands were clutching the edge of his coat tightly, as though guilty or angry. Or perhaps just stressed. “Let’s get some food in actual range of you, then, shall we?”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts janus #g/t #taking the fall #ttf #my writing #writing #borrowers #mind the warnings

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thedragonnerd · 3 years

Text

Rayaari headcanon - travel through the emotions with tears

(inspired by this lovely anon)

Tears of sorrow and pain

Raya is so young when she loses her mother, that the concept of death is difficult for her to understand. The reality doesn't strike her until bedtime, when she slowly begins to realize that Ma will never again be there to sing her a lullaby, or hug her fear of the monsters away. Benja is unable to stop the tears for hours, as Raya screams and cries and hits her small fists on the bed. Finally, she upsets herself so much she throws up, and her crying trails off to quiet whimpers instead. For months afterwards, Benja and Raya both dread bedtime, for this is when sorrow hits the hardest for her.

Namaari is nine when her Ba dies. Death is not an unknown concept for her, unfortunately. She has already begun to see its cold grasp ensnaring Fang citizens as famine begins to sweep the lands. But nothing can prepare her for the news the young soldier delivers of her Ba's accident, nor the expression on Ma's face when they both realize he won't be coming home. She doesn't cry for the first week after his death, and people whisper about how stoic and brave she's being. In reality, she is too shocked and numb to demonstrate any further emotions, until one night she awakens to find Ma has crawled into bed next to her, hugging her close in her sleep. Hot tears fall down her cheek, and she burrows into her mother's embrace as she cries silently.

After the Druun return, after she loses her Ba, Raya finds herself scared and all alone in the world, besides faithful Tuk Tuk. During the day, she wraps herself in false bravado, learning how to be a confident young woman instead of an easy mark for people with questionable motives. She employs a 'fake it until she makes it' approach to life, and it carries her through well enough...except at night. At night, she can't help but remember both her parents, and in the darkness she softly sings her mother's lullaby to soothe herself as the tears fall.

When the magnitude of what she has done by trying to take the Dragon Gem hits Namaari, she is horrified with herself. She cries quietly at night for weeks on end, reluctant to talk to anyone about her guilt. And then one day, she wakes up and decides she has no right to cry over it – she should step up and be responsible for her own actions instead, and be the best leader she can be. For several years after that moment, she refuses to let herself cry. Then one scouting mission, she loses her first soldier to the Druun, watching him turn to stone over her shoulder as they flee. She manages to hold it together as she tells his family how brave he had been; then, she goes to the kitchen, stealing as much rice wine as she can carry. She hides with her serlots, drunkenly crying into their soft fur until she can barely breathe. After that, she allows herself to cry sometimes, but only ever when alone.

The first time Raya visits Talon, she is fourteen and half-starving. The market place is loud and confusing, but it’s also full of food and wonderful scents. Unfortunately, she has no jade pieces and the soldiers patrolling the stalls do not seem like people with whom she should risk get into trouble. She almost walks away instead of trying to buy anything, but her stomach cramps just at that moment, and she almost gasps in pain. It breaks her heart, but she slowly hands over a ring of gold in order to buy some food – the only thing she has with her that belonged to her mother. ‘You know, that vendor scammed you,’ a young boy tells her with a snort, as she walks away. ‘You should have gotten far more product for the worth of the ring.’ The food tastes like ashes in her mouth after that, and hot tears slip down her cheeks as she tries to choke down the rest of her dinner.

Namaari’s scouting party is ambushed, not by the Druun, but by angry citizens from Spine. She loses good people that day, watching in horror as they are overwhelmed by Spine’s army, still acting as good soldiers trying to protect their Princess until the end. The last warrior screams at her to run, and even though it is against her instincts, she turns and flees into the forest, not even stopping when a sharp pain pierces her side - an arrow hitting its mark. She collapses some distance later, crying in pain and fear. For the first time, she fears she will die alone, bleeding out amongst the trees. Then she remembers her mother, remembers her duties and the promises she made to herself, and staggers upright. Her serlot finds her as she slowly makes her way forwards, and when she finally manges to crawl onto her back, they take off towards Fang.

‘You’re a traitor to your people,’ someone snaps at Raya, as she tries to mediate between two disagreeing Heart citizens. ‘You try to tell us what to do, but you’re a Princess who doesn’t even know half of her own culture. Too busy cavorting with binturis from Fang and other lands to bother with your own.’ She can feel the tears coming on as the words cut deep into all the fears she has about herself – how she isn’t a good leader, how she lost so many years where she should have learnt about Heart and her role as Princess. A hand lands on her shoulder squeezing gently, yet the voice behind its owner is cutting. ‘Gentlemen, I suggest you leave now before you make me do something I regret,’ Namaari says, and when the men depart angrily, silence falls. Namaari doesn’t say anything at first, drawing Raya into an embrace instead. ‘You’re a better leader than they could hope to be,’ she whispers into Raya’s hair, kissing her head gently. Raya clings to her tightly, arms wrapped around her waist.

‘You’re not welcome here, binturi,’ comes the accusation thrown into her face, and Namaari flinches, much to her own disgust. The celebratory gathering is supposed to be for all the lands to come together, but she can understand Fang not being so warmly welcomed. She is trying though, trying to atone for her mistakes, and after a long day of talking herself into having the confidence to attend, she is now just feeling overwhelmed with their cutting remarks. She simply nods and tries to walk away while hiding her face, but Raya is already pushing past her, getting into the personal space of the other women with a snarl. ‘She’s more welcome here than you currently,’ she growls. Then she spins around, holds out an arm gallantly to Namaari with a smile, and says ‘shall we?’ with a wink. Namaari links their arms, and they walk away with their heads held high.

Tears of laughter and joy

There is something charming and fun in watching Sisu learn more about people and their odd behaviours. Namaari is still slightly in awe of dragons in general, but she finds it easier the more she spends time with Sisu and watches her do ridiculous things. Sisu often brings Tong, Boun and even Noi along to visit Raya, and Namaari loves this time especially, because Raya will go and join in on the fun, laughing at her friends’ antics until tears stream down her face. Namaari sits and watches them with a smile, until Raya runs over and grabs her by the hand, dragging her over to the group.

Raya likes to think she is excellently athletic and nimble on her feet, and to a certain extent this is true. Unfortunately, she has a rather clumsy side to her also, and she spectacularly demonstrates this in front of Namaari by mistake. She is trying to demonstrate how smooth her mounts and dismounts from Tuk Tuk’s saddle are, and even goes so far as to try and show off by standing up on his back. And yet, she slips sideways instead, arms windmilling in the air before she drops onto the floor. ‘Are you alright?’ Namaari calls, and as soon as Raya answers in the affirmative, she can hear a cackle of laughter. Namaari is laughing so hard that there are tears shining in her eyes, and Raya can’t feel too embarrassed by her tumble when it brings Namaari such joy.

At the end of a very long day of Council meetings, Raya wants nothing more than to escape the political grandstanding and disappear into the night instead of staying for dinner. She manages to grab some food from the kitchen before it is even brought out for the guests, and then steals Namaari herself as company. They sit under the stars, enjoying their picnic and complaining about the day. Namaari does a wonderful impersonation of the most annoying Councilor in the meeting, and Raya startles into loud laughter at how realistic it is. Soon they are lying next to each other, giggling loudly until they are both crying from laughter.

Namaari kisses Raya for the first time during a sparring session. They are fighting in a casual manner for once, not trying to be highly competitive as usual, but preferring to shoot as many teasing remarks towards the other as punches, enjoying the moment. Raya manages to pin Namaari down on the ground, leaning forwards slightly to highlight her triumphant and teasing expression, and instead sees Namaari staring up at her with a soft smile. Namaari brings both hands up to slide her fingers through Raya’s hair, drawing her down until their lips are touching softly. Raya feels tears welling up behind her eyes at she feels the love emanating from Namaari.

Raya proposes after two years of dating and several days of angsting over whether she has the correct words to say or the correct proposal gifts. But when it comes to the moment, she forgets everything, and just blurts out ‘I love you. Marry me?’ Namaari stares at her in shock for a moment, before stepping forward to kiss Raya. ‘Yes, yes of course,’ she says, her voice shaking from her emotions. Raya cups her cheeks in both hands, gently wiping away her tears before they kiss again.

When they marry, neither of them can get through their vows without some tears of happiness. No-one judges them for it though – most of their family and friends are crying also.

#rayaari #raya and the last dragon #ratld #raya #namaari #raya and namaari #raya x namaari #one for sorrow #two for joy #tears headcanons #been a whiiiiile #work work work makes no time for headcanons writing #but hopefully i will have time now for moooore #enjoy this offering in the meantime

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