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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months ago

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Sergei Kravinoff x mutant fem!reader

Summary: Sergei is captured and his only source of salvation and light is the young woman who visits him every day to bring him food and heal his wounds.

Genre: hurt and comfort <3

Warnings: reader has healing abilities, kidnapping, torture, blood, violence, drugging, shitty men, protective!Sergei

~ thank you 💜anon for this idea! i didn't make it smut but i hope you like it anyways ~

SERGEI KRAVINOFF MASTERLIST

The Hunter. They'd captured The Hunter by.

That was all you knew from the hushed whispers as they guarded your door. His name caused excitement around the compound and your curiosity was piqued. You stand from your small cot, limping over as the blood from your leg spills from the bandages. You press your palm against your door, catching snippets of the conversation in Russian, as you hold your breath.

When you hear the latch to your door snap, you stumble back. The man with the scar enters, a smirk on his face. "Ah, you're up. Good. We have a new guest. You know what to do," he walks over and caresses your cheek, causing you to flinch, and he glances down at your leg. "And don't let him get close to you, not like the last one. Understand, pet? Cleaning you up was a fuckin' mess."

You nod, earning you a light tap on your cheek as he gestures for his men to come in with a tray of food.

The Hunter's cell is grim and dark, the drip of water from the ceiling is heard in the corner. Your eyes widen when you see him. He's suspended from his arms, rusty chains digging into his skin. He's shirtless, scratches and gashes of various stages litter his back and shoulders. He's breathing deeply as you walk in. He turns his head a little, catching your eyes and he lets out a sharp laugh, spitting out more blood.

"Is this some kind of joke?" He coughs up more blood, seeing the food on the tray. You circle to the front, resting the tray on the ground as you look up at him again. "They send you in to do the dirty work, принцесса (princess)?"

You don't answer him, instead glancing at the security of the chains holding him. They're strong. Unbreakable you would guess and you look into his eyes again. You tear some of the bread and stand up, walking closer. Unlike many other prisoners, this one doesn't immediately lunge for you. He seems to be keeping his strength, simply observing your movements. You hold out the bread for him to bite out of your hand, but he spits blood at your shoes instead.

"I don't need your food," he growls and tugs on the chains, turning his torso as he hisses in pain. You see a large gash on his side and your expression softens. You're here to heal him, at least so he doesn't die until he gives them the information they want.

"I can help," you whisper, walking forward and reaching your hand to touch his side. The man inhales, readying himself to push you down—to do anything. He doesn't trust you. However, that plan falls through when he sees a glimpse of the bruising on your cheek. Someone has already hit you. He falters and then he gasps when your cold hand presses against the wound.

"Shh," you soothe, bracing yourself, "this will only hurt for a moment. I promise."

"What are you—"

He grunts, feeling something sting and turns his head as best he can, twisting his torso. You pull your hand away, revealing the mostly healed wound. It's still badly bruised and you explain; "I can't heal the bruising. I c-can only help the process."

You sound scared of him and he looks back over to you, eyes dark. You just healed him. He looks at your hand and he sees that they're shaking. His eyebrows scrunch as he examines you. You're breathing heavily, looking exhausted.

It drained you.

Suddenly, there is a loud bang on the door, and a man's voice booms into the room and orders you back out in Russian. You catch your breath, holding out the bread for the man to take. You still want him to eat at least a little. Once he reluctantly eats the bread from your hand, you grab the tray and hurry out the door.

The man hears the shout and he grimaces, pulling on his chains again. The wound doesn't hurt as much and his head is reeling from what had just happened.

Who were you?

* * *

The next time Sergei sees you, he's chained to the wall, blood trickling down the side of his head. He hears the door enter and he smells you instantly. You smell sweet, not like the men who come in who stink of death and sweat. He turns his head, cracking a smile, as blood drips from his mouth. You set the tray down, kneeling in front of him on the dirty ground. Sergei's smile drops when he sees more bruising around your cheeks. They're hurting you too. His blood boils and he tries to fight against the chains once more, his body weak.

He watches you silently as you take a syringe from the tray. Your hand is trembling and you look up at him. He knows what the liquid is, usually the men administer it when they torture him. It weakens him, making it impossible for him to break the chains that hold him in place. He growls like a hurt animal and you rest your hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, testing the syringe as the green liquid pours out and drips onto the ground. "They think you'll put up less of a fight if it's me—"

Sergei narrows his eyes, the gold irises flickering underneath the surface, and he snarls; "Don't do this," he says but you gently push his head to the side, your hand on his forehead as you sink the needle into his neck. He grunts. No wonder the men are asking you to do this; it's dangerous for you. He could easily turn his head and bite you in this position. Usually, they prick him in the leg or somewhere safe that still works, but not as well as it could. They're becoming impatient it seems and they're now willing to turn you into a pawn. Perhaps, that's the reason he doesn't hurt you. He knows what that's like.

"I'm really sorry," you sob, holding his head as your hand trembles even more. Once the liquid is gone, you pull away. He looks calmer now, the drug already working. You drop the syringe and break some more bread. "Please eat," you whisper, pressing the stale bread to his lips, as if trying to counteract the drug by feeding him.

He opens his eyes, reluctantly listening to you as he eats a bite. "They're hurting you too," he says and you shift uncomfortably, avoiding his intense glare. "Why? And why can't you heal yourself?" He'd noticed your limp the moment you walked and smelled the blood from your knee, even underneath your pants. You're injured.

You sit back, touching the bruising along your eye, and look up at him. "You aren't the only prisoner they give that horrid liquid to," you whisper, looking at the syringe and then tilting your head and showing him the needle mark on your neck. "They like m-my ability, but only in moderation—"

Sergei groans, his chest burning with anger. He shakes his head when he sees you begin to clean up. "Who? Who are they?! Who has me!? I can help you—if you—wait—stop—" he watches you walk out helplessly. He groans again from the pain in his side as he shifts his position. Sergei realizes you haven't healed him today. He supposes that would go against the point of the fucking drug.

Hours later, when he finally falls asleep, all he dreams of is you.

* * *

"What is your name?" Sergei asks one evening as you run a warm cloth on his face, wiping away the dried blood from the beating he'd received. He hasn't cracked yet, not that he will. You startle a little, not expecting him to ask you that question. You glance up, meeting his gaze, and you whisper your name.

"Kraven," he introduces. He wants to tell you his real name, but he doesn't know if he can fully trust you. Sergei winces when you swipe your hand across a cut on his cheek, healing the small wound. He pulls against the chains keeping his arms up. He groans, realizing it's useless. "How long have you been here, Y/n?"

You move to rub the cloth on his bare torso, going even quieter. "A year."

"Do you have a family?"

You shrug, turning away and preparing that damned drug again. The men have given up administering it and have charged you with that task instead. Sergei grimaces and when you look up, your hand gently turning his head like it always does, he doesn't fight you. Instead, he whispers, "Y/n, don't give it to me. I can get us both out of here. I won't hurt you. I promise." He's not entirely sure how long he's been here but he's desperate now. He locks eyes with you, almost pleasing.

You wrap your arm around his nape, shifting and your voice shakes when you whisper, "They're watching. There is a camera— it can't hear us but it can see us."

Sergei winces, feeling you prepare the syringe; however, he pauses when he looks to the side and sees that the needle is near the bare skin of your arm, the one covering his nape. "They make sure it's g-gone, this is the only way. Will your powers regenerate in one night?"

Sergei nods, his blue eyes are wide and he's a little alarmed when you administer the drug to yourself.

"They're watching us. Please, you have to pretend I gave it to you if you want this to work."

"Will the drug hurt you?" he asks, knowing you're purposefully hiding what you're doing to the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

You shake your head, pulling away and hiding the mark on your arm with your sleeve. "No– I just won't be able to use my powers for a while. It's okay. That's all it does. That's what it's been doing to you—weakening you." You gather your supplies with shaking hands as Sergei breathes heavily, keeping his body calm as you said.

"I won't let them hurt you again," Sergei promises before you leave. You turn around to look at him, your eyes sad, as he whispers, "I'll find you, принцесса (princess)."

* * *

"Wake up, Hunter." Sergei hears a loud bang as a metal pipe slams against the wall near his head. His eyes shoot open, his body not feeling as weak anymore and his gaze locks onto the two men who've been torturing him these past days. His eyes narrow and his hand twitches in the chains but his heart leaps when one of the men, the one with the scar on his lip, pulls you from behind the other man, his hand in your hair. "We have some exciting news," the man sings-songs and adds, "since ya seem so fond of each other."

Sergei's eyes frantically bounce from your scared expression to the men holding you, his jaw clenching.

"Since you don't quite break when we break you, we must change our method, you understand," the other man laughs, unsheathing a knife and running it in your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut, controlling your breathing. "Now, if you continue not to give us anything, we'll just have to break your little girlfriend instead. And," the man laughs, "we promise with the damage we'll cause she won't have time to heal herself—"

Sergei's eyes narrow. The men are too busy laughing at the tears that fall from your eyes to notice the glimmer of gold behind his irises—but you do. You hold your breath, unsure what's about to happen but you know it can't be good considering that the drug you'd been giving him for the past week had faded so quickly. Sergei licks his lips, his sharp fangs showing for a second before he lunges for the men, the chains previously holding him easily ripping.

You gasp, falling to the ground as you grasp the floor, scooting to the opposite side of the room, pressing your back to the wall as you watch as Kraven tears into one of the men's throats, growling like an animal would. You scream, covering your eyes with shaky hands as gunshots ring out and you hear more growls and ripping.

Once the scream stops, you feel someone's presence over you. You peek through your fingers, your gaze stuck on the splatter of blood across his features. His eyes have returned to their normal blue and he crouches down, like an animal showing its submission as his knuckles skim your cheeks and wipe away your tears.

"Are you okay?" He mutters, his voice hoarse. You nod hesitantly and when he scoops his hand under your knees and your back, you accept and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I'm here," he whispers.

Your hands tremble and you nod, finding your voice as you squeeze your eyes shut again so you don't see the lifeless bodies he'd left in his wake as he walks to the exit. However, you can't bring yourself to feel pity; those men had tortured him. And they'd tortured you for even longer. "Thank you, Kraven," you say quietly and he holds you tighter.

"Sergei," he says, "My name is Sergei."

You hum, resting your eyes as your head falls onto his chest. When you open your eyes again, you're in a truck. Sergei is on the phone, talking in Russian, and you understand snippets of his conversation. You're buckled in, your head resting on the passenger window as the headlights from the other cars blind you. You groan, your head is pounding. "You slept for hours, is that normal, принцесса (princess)?" Sergei asks, putting his phone in his pocket as he continues to drive.

"Where are we?"

"Russia," Sergei says and he looks at you with a worried expression, "We've always been in Russia—did you not know where they were holding you?" You shake your head, a little embarrassed. You really didn't know. Sergei clicks his tongue and runs a hand over his face. He's cleaned himself up, the blood is gone and he looks in much better form. He senses you staring and he looks over, "I made some calls. My brother—he has connections," he tells you, explaining the truck.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask quietly.

Sergei's eyes narrow. "My home," he pauses, "just so you can rest, I'm not sure how long that drug will last on you, but once you're better, I can take you home."

"Home," you whisper and look down at your lap, picking at your nails. "I have no home."

Sergei is quiet as he looks at the road again. "Well, you can stay with me then. I'll take care of you."

Silence looms over you as the truck rolls along icy roads, the hum of the engine filling the air. You glance at Sergei again, your gaze softening. He looks different now—calmer, more composed, less weak and frazzled. His knuckles are no longer bloodied, his breaths even now, and yet, there is something simmering underneath, like a fire that hasn't quite burned out.

"You really don't have to do that," you tell him, staring out the window. "You have already done enough."

He just chuckles, low and rough. "Enough? I went through hell, принцесса (princess), I'm not stopping now." He glances at you, his eyes sharp as they lock onto yours and his voice almost wavers when he says. "You saved me first. I owe you."

You press your lips together, unsure how to respond. He sounds so serious, as if nothing you say would sway him. You decide not to speak. Your body is heavy with exhaustion, the aftermath of the drug still dulling your senses. You sigh and shut your eyes, leaning your head against the window again as the lights from outside lull you asleep.

Once the truck finally stops, you wake to the sound of Sergei opening your door. Snow crunches under his boots as he reaches in and effortlessly lifts you into his arms again, ignoring your half-hearted protests.

"Stop fussing, will you," he mutters, his voice softer now. "You're still weak."

The large house he carries you into is cool, the scent of pine and something faintly sweet greeting you. It's a small but comfortable cabin, filled with old family trinkets and photos of a family of four; two young boys sitting on their mother's knee.

Sergei wordlessly sets you down on a couch, draping a blanket over your shoulders before crouching and starting a well-needed fire. Once the flames crackle, he turns and his hands hover over your knees, uncertain, as if he's not surewhere to begin.

Finally, he lifts his arms and brushes some hair back from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Rest," he commands. His tone is calm and serious but the corners of his mouth twitch upward as if he's hiding a small smile. "I will make us food."

You still don't say a word as you watch him retreat to the kitchen, the tension in your chest easing for the first time in a long while. The danger is gone, replaced with a warmth you haven't felt. You glance around the room and you realize that for the first time in a long long time, you feel completely safe.

You smile softly, watching the fire burn and listening to Sergei walk around the kitchen.

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wonderlandcrown · 2 months ago

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𝐼𝑛 𝐴 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑂𝑓 𝑀𝑦 𝑂𝑤𝑛

𝑉𝑖𝑙 𝑋 𝑌𝑢𝑢(𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

a/n : second fic on here woohoo. take a look into your future with the worldwide famous actor, model and influencer : Vil Schoenheit!! Future au so Vil is 22 here, reader is younger but is over 18. Reader referred to as "Yuu, you, they/them prns" yuu's name was saved as "my saviour" ever since they broke into Styx to rescue Vil. Talking abt getting kids haha who said that

genre : fluff and romance(established relationship)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚♛♡♕˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ��

Cats and rabbits Would reside in fancy little houses And be dressed in shoes and hats and trousers In a world of my own

It's two o'clock, the director has just called for a break. Vil was filming a new movie all the way over at the Queendom of Roses, it's supposed to be a live action version of one of the classics animation films made in the queendom. Though Vil usually disliked live actions(he thought them uncreative cash grabs), he'll admit the writing for this wasn't as bad as he imagined.

Vil was playing as the villain's younger brother this time, the tritagonist. A refreshing break from all his villain roles, the White King was graceful, otherworldly, and a hidden taste for violence, you had teased that Vil was basically playing himself.

Vil stood by the catering section, taking a gulp of water along with his vitamin supplements. He scrolled through his phone checking for messages, there were some from Rook, they haven't lost contact even after graduation, in fact they text each other more often now that they don't see each other as often.

Rook had sent some pictures of his recent excavation site, along with candid shots of the team he was currently working with. Most of the team members had surprised, or- scared, expressions while Rook still had that same familiar smile. Vil sent him a reminder to not freak out his new acquaintances too much.

There was also Epel, he had only recently finished his 4th year internship and is now taking a break in his hometown, helping his family. Epel had grown so much ever since Vil took him under his wing during NRC, it makes Vil a little sentimental, only a little.

Epel had sent Vil the monthly supplies of apple juice and apples(Epel was here to visit Deuce anyways)to the hotel he was currently staying at, Vil received the pictures of boxes at the hotel doorstep.

Vil then decided to chat with Yuu,

my queen💜 : dear, epel just sent the apples and apple juice to our doorstep, did you receive them?

my saviour🤭 : (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ʸᴱˢ

my saviour🤭 : I brought them inside alrd

my queen💜 : make yourself something to eat with the apples, a fruit salad would do nicely as an afternoon snack.

my queen💜 : assuming you had finished your lunch

my saviour🤭 : uhhhhhh

Vil sighs as he sees the last message, really, you're not incapable of not taking care of yourself when he's not around, so why does it seem like so.

my queen💜 : love. answer me

seen 2:13 p.m

Seen? How could you leave your jaw dropping, gorgeous, caring, considerate fiancé on seen?! You better have a good reason for leaving THE Vil Schoenheit on seen or he'll-

Vil's internal monologue of rage was cut short by a sudden *ping*, you had sent a photo of... A cat wearing a pink bow. Definitely not Grim.

my queen💜 : yuu. explain. now.

my saviour🤭 : I found it outside the hotel ╥﹏╥

my queen💜 : 1, emoticons don't work on me. 2, why did you bring it into our hotel room

my saviour🤭 : I alrd gave Dinah a bath thoo ://

my saviour🤭 : she's clean I swear🙏🙏

Vil can practically feel his blood pressure rising.

my queen💜 : so you decided to postpone your lunch to take care of a mangy stray cat?

my saviour🤭 : yeahh😘(plz don't be mad plzplzplzplzplzzpzl)

my queen💜 : fine just.. remember to eat, and don't let it go in our shared bedroom

my saviour🤭 : you're gonna lose your head when you learn where me and Dinah are rn

Vil then decided that putting down his phone for the time being would be a wondrous decision, for the sake of his sanity and blood pressure.

All the flowers Would have very extra-special powers They would sit and talk to me for hours When I'm lonely in a world of my own

Vil wasn't very fond of the idea of making small talk with any of the cast members during production, in his opinion, it would've affected his filming. It's the actor's job to bring the character to life for the audience, anything less than that should be classified as a sub par children's play.

Though Vil did make an exception for his lovely Yuu that seemed to love causing him migraines(and Rook, but the latter would still drop by unannounced even if Vil told him no)

That didn't make the actor any less surprised when you showed up with a bouquet of purple hyacinths.

"You're so lucky you managed to show up during our break time. If it was during filming I would've kicked you out."

"First of all, no you wouldn't. Second of all, I memorized your schedule, so this was planned. "

Vil huffed, he's not surprised you memorized his schedule, you've been doing that ever since you two got engaged.

"Nevermind, I'm more interested in the reason for your visit, and the purple hyacinths too... You do know what the flower symbolizes, no?"

Purple hyacinths. Forgiveness

You shuffled your feet and held the bouquet a little bit tighter, suddenly anxious. "Uh, yeah, you seemed really angry yesterday.. You've left me on seen.."

Great seven, Yuu, your worried face is honestly adorable. Vil almost forgave you for the bringing in the stray cat when you made that expression, but he steeled his nerves and pretended to not be affected.

"Hmph, what did you expect? You brought back a stray cat without my permission into OUR hotel room." Vil emphasizes the word our as he crosses his arms, how could you not ask for his opinion beforehand?

"Y-yeah, I'm sorry, but it was raining and-," You suddenly cut yourself off, realizing Vil was raising an eyebrow, this isn't the time for that, my dear. "No, no, that's an excuse.. I'm sorry, I got these flowers for you."

You push the bouquet of hyacinths towards Vil, they were wrapped in a light yellow silk cloth and tied together by a black ribbon. A sight for sore eyes, Vil admits. He takes the flowers from your hands and starts looking closely at the bouquet, trying to find fault among the flowers(he likes being petty okay?), but he finds none whatsoever.

"You're forgiven, and you can keep Dinah, just don't let her on the bed."

The joy on your face could almost match the one on the day Vil proposed to you, his heart melts at the sight, and this time he doesn't hide his affectionate smile. Yuu may be magicless but Vil swears that their smile has some special power.

There'd be new birds Lots of nice and friendly how-de-do birds Everyone would have a dozen blue birds

A month had passed since Vil had started filming, he was given a break by the director. His character doesn't show up until the climax scene from this point on, and a child actor was called in to play the kid version of the White King during the backstory sequence.

This was enough for Vil to make up for lost time with Yuu.

You were standing outside the filming studio, holding Dinah in your arms, and Vil could see the silhouette of Grim inside the limousine, no doubt feasting on caviar and the fancy tuna you loved to buy for the little glutton. Vil was holding a vase of the hyacinths you'd given to him a while ago, he still managed to take care of the flowers while filming.

"We're gonna go to the park." You announce once Vil was inside the limo, Grim looks up from his very, very messy plate, "Myah? Why not a restaurant? The queendom's food is kinda bland, but the Great Grim makes it a point to eat the local cuisine of any place he goes to!"

Vil sighs, adjusting the vase of hyacinths on his lap, "You have enough on your plate already.. And I meant that literally."

"It's peaceful and makes a nice picnic spot, I had already visited there once and I thought you'd like it, take a break from the usual bustling crowd you have to deal with, y'know?" A beautiful smile graces your face as you say that, and Vil suddenly feels rejuvenated, as if he didn't spend an entire month filming.

"You're as thoughtful as ever, dear."

After a while, the limo stopped at a red light, you turned your head towards the window and saw up on a tree, a family of blue swallows.

You were silent for a while, craning your neck to stare at the swallows, it made Vil curious too. Though he had to squint to take a good look at them as he was sitting parallel to you.

Vil could make out at least two smaller swallows, one of the older ones was sitting still while another was focused on the children.

"There's still an unhatched egg." You whisper, you were still focused on that small family of birds. Vil couldn't understand why, he thought of asking Grim but the latter wasn't making eye contact with him for some reason. (usually Grim would be bugging Vil to buy him stuff)

For some reason, Vil feels like he was left out of a very important conversation.

Within that world of my own I could listen to a babbling brook And hear a song that I could understand I keep wishing it could be that way Because my world would be a wonderland

The chauffeur had dropped you all off at the park, Vil had entrusted him to take care of his prized hyacinths for the time being, you told Grim to "take care of your little sister Dinah", to which he responded with grumbles and protests against the term "little sister". That left you alone with your fiancé, Vil Schoenheit.

As you sit on the picnic mat taking plates and sandwiches out of the basket, Vil approached you with a question. "You were acting weird in the car." "..Huh?"

Your confused face seemed so genuine that Vil was already second guessing what he saw, "You heard me, is there something you want to tell me? Is it about birds?"

A blush creeps onto your face, which Vil mistakes for embarrassment. "I don't mind if you want to adopt some birds, my dear, but you have to keep in mind that you already own a cat and a gluttonous direbeast, I don't want to see you heartbroken if either one decides that your new pet is going to make their next meal-,"

"It's not about birds!" You suddenly blurt aloud, you were lucky that the park isn't a popular tourist spot, because that definitely would've turned some heads.

Vil blinks in surprise, "Sorry..? Wait- no, Yuu, what do you mean this isn't about birds?"

You were blushing like a tomato now, "The- the birds... This isn't about birds Vil.." You cover your face with your hands, keeping whatever else you had to say muffled.

"Yuu, I can't hear anything if you do that." Vil furrowed his brows, whatever you had to say was clearly important, it made Vil worried.

"..."

"Yuu?" Don't do this to your fiancé, please. Vil has absolutely no idea what's going on, what do you want to tell him??? He takes your hand away and cradles it using his own, the soft gesture making you raise your head.

"Yuu. Please." Vil Schoenheit has picked up the skill of reading people over the years as an actor, model and influencer, but still he failed to read his beloveds current feelings.

"..How do you feel about children?"

Vil feels like he was thrown into an alternate universe.

"That's what you were thinking about?" Vil chooses his words carefully, or as carefully as a person can be when one's beloved thought that he would be adverse to the idea of kids.

"My love, if you wanted to have a talk about that you could've done it anytime, and no need to be so shy." Vil says steadily while using his free hand to tilt your head up, you were reminding him of how you were during your school days.

"But you were busy with filming.. And I had barely begun the wedding preparations! didn't seem right to discuss the idea of children when we are barely adults.."

Your eyes darted around, and for a while Vil was silent, the river near the spot you had chosen made its presence known.

"Well.. You're not wrong, this isn't really the most suitable time for us to have children.. But there was no need for your shyness, my love, I'm not going to leave you just because of something like that."

Vil sat down beside you on the picnic mat, your hand still in his, he tilted his head to take a look at you.

"...Thanks, Vil." Your reply was barely audible, but Vil heard it just fine.

"You're always welcome, dear."

Vil Schoenheit is an actor, model and influencer, but he is also a son, a friend, and a partner, and truth be told he values the last three roles more than the others, especially the role of Yuu's partner.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

a/n : got a little angsty at the end whoops. tell me in the comments or reblogs if you wanna be tagged in chapter 3

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sunnycanvas · 1 year ago

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Could you do headcanons of how Baldwin would act if he was angry? Even better if he was angry at the reader, Thank you!!! 💜

Part 2

I was in a castle trapped and waiting. I just don't know how it happened, I really am confused how the situation out like this.... I wish Baldwin was here. He'd make sense of all this confusion . Any attempts from my side have proved to be futile. All I hear from the knights stationed out saying "I don't know my lady". I knew they were lying and I could tell they were started to get annoyed by my attempts to know. Today was like any other day, I was waiting in my room trapped looking out the window envying the freedom commoners enjoyed. When suddenly a knight knocked at my door. "My lady, May I come in?" He questioned I could tell that he was tired and frustrated but strangely I could make out hint of relief in his voice. "You may" I answered back. The knight came in and announced "His majesty the king wishes too see you". I could tell my mere presence annoyed him. Seems like I tired him out too much with my attempts to contact my husband. I smiled and said "Tell his majesty that his queen is delighted to finally him". The knight scoffed in fake mockery and left. That surely angered me. I am surely a fairly patient but there is so much I can take, come to think it seems the knight in the castle seems to acting hostile with me. "Must be war" I reasoned I knew that I was being naive. If only I knew what awaited me

Baldwin, my beloved husband, entered the room with an air of grim determination, his confident strides causing my initial enthusiasm to melt into fear and confusion. "Baldwin, what's wrong?" I ventured, my voice tinged with apprehension. Baldwin smirked mockingly looking sideways whispering to himself "I should have been the one asking instead". He now looked at me as if ready to ponce "How long has it been going on" he demanded, his tone laced with anger and accusation. Confusion clouded my thoughts as I stammered, "What are you talking about?" Baldwin's frustration boiled over as he denounced my innocence, his words striking deep. "I am done with your nonsense, I know everything," he spat. "You are not as innocent as you look." "Now, Tell me" Baldwin walked towards me angrily as I slowly backed myself towards the wall. Having my back making contact with the wall. I knew I had no place to run. Baldwin aware about the same trapped me between his arms. In any other situation I would have swoon out of joy but unfortunately it's different right now. Baldwin narrowed his eyes and gave me predatory look. "Come to think about he is your type vigorous and wealthy" he sneered, his words a cutting indictment of my character.

Offended and stung by his insinuations, I retorted, "Who are you talking about?" Baldwin's rage flared anew as he spat out the name, "Raymond of Tripoli, who else?" Anger surged within me as I confronted his baseless accusations. "So that's what this has all been about?" I challenged. "Have you forgotten that he is already married?" Baldwin's response was a bitter reminder of the harsh realities of noble society. "When has that ever stopped noblemen from taking mistress" he yelled. "Tiberias is different," I countered, my voice firm, watching as my words struck Baldwin like a blow. His frustration erupted into a desperate grip on my arms, his accusation cutting deep. "I knew it," he seethed. "It's one thing to seduce the king and then the count. It was your ploy all along. You just wanted my crown." His words hung heavy in the air, each accusation a dagger to my heart. "Are you even hearing yourself, Baldwin?" I demanded, incredulity lacing my voice. "First, you accuse me of adultery, now treason against the crown?" His hand raised in a halting gesture, demanding my silence. "It's 'Your Majesty' to you," he corrected sharply, a coldness settling over us like a shroud. Swallowing my tears, I braced myself against the onslaught of his betrayal. For a fleeting moment, I caught a glimpse of remorse in Baldwin's eyes but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of his mistrust. "Your grace" something seemed to snap in Baldwin who now wanted to caress my face but stopped at last moment. Finding my voice again I managed to mumble "I don't understand". Baldwin appeared lost in thought, his features clouded with a turmoil of conflicting emotions. Then he confessed, "Baldwin of Ibelin and Raymond of Tripoli had been planning to marry Ramla to Sibylla and then depose me."

"What!?" I exclaimed, the shock and confusion evident in my voice as Baldwin stood before me, silently reading my expression. "You really didn't know" He asked his voice laced with disbelief. I shook my head in vehement denial. Baldwin let out cry of frustration and said "Stop, (Y/N), you obviously knew," he insisted. "We have evidence backing up your involvement". "No, I swear," I protested, my confusion mounting at the vile accusations leveled against me. "So you are telling me you people weren't having a coup?" "So tell me dear (Y/N) what were you planning" Baldwin pressed, his voice laced with skepticism.

"We were merely arriving to celebrate Easter when news reached us of Princess Sibylla's sudden marriage," I explained, my voice steady despite the turmoil within" "We were all taken aback, myself included who was most hurt of them all and then hurt and offended, we chose to leave and celebrate elsewhere". Baldwin's disbelief hung heavy in the air. "You really expect me to believe this nonsense?" he challenged, his doubt evident. Meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence, I countered, "What kind of people would leave immediately if they were planning a coup? Besides, Tiberias could have easily seized power when he was regent." A flicker of insecurity danced across Baldwin's features, but he maintained his composure. "My sister is already married to Guy de Lusignan, so your coup failed," he asserted. The mention of Guy de Lusignan stirred memories of familial alliances and political maneuvering. Guy de Lusignan must be the younger brother of Aimery de Lusignan Agnes's ally. My mother in law and I always had our indifferences mostly that had to do with her forceful personailty but I never thought she would stoop so low.

"Your Majesty, please believe me," I implored, desperation creeping into my tone. "I am being framed. Guy would not be a suitable king. Apart his attempted abduction of Eleanor of Aquitaine, I know other less-than-admirable things about him. Unlike his brother, he lacks the capability."

Baldwin remained unmoved by my words, his resolve unshaken. "You have no evidence to support your claims, while we have evidence of your involvement with Raymond III, Count of Tripoli, and the Ibelin brothers in a coup against me," he countered, his disappointment palpable. "I had hoped, (Y/N), that you would have confessed, that you would never betray me." "That you were being coerced to betray me".

I made one final attempt to reason with Baldwin, my voice trembling with desperation. "Baldwin, please, Tiber-" "Don't use his nickname in my presence!" he thundered, cutting me off with a fierce glare. "Raymond and I are just friends, and you know well enough that your mother harbors no love for me. She's the one framing me!" "I will not hear slander against my mother," Baldwin retorted, his tone icy with resolve. "Patriarch Heraclius has agreed to an annulment." "Another one of Agnes ally" I thought. "You shall be deprived of your status as queen consort of Jerusalem and once that is done you will leave my palace immediately" he declared, his command final and unwavering as he was about to leave.

"Your Majesty, please!" I pleaded, my voice echoing with desperation as he turned to leave. "Your Majesty, please believe me" The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, cutting off my words and leaving me alone in the suffocating silence of the room. Slowly, I sank to the floor, my gaze fixed on the closed door, my mind swirling with fears for the future of the kingdom and for my own uncertain fate.

#baldwin iv #baldwin iv imagine #baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fandom #kingdom of heaven fanfic #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #kingdom of heaven headcanons

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago

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Aizawa x reader - home

A/N: This idea is from @nyxiethesimp thank you! 💜

Grinning from ear to ear, you planted your hands on your hips as you looked at the hero in front of you.

“Hi!”

“You’re not supposed to be on patrol.” He said.

You shrugged a little bit, walking over to stand next to him as he overlooked the ward from the building that he was stood on.

He sighed heavily, turning around to go back to overlooking the city with you.

“Why’re you on patrol Grim? You were told to be on bed rest for a month.”

“And it’s been a month Eraser, I’m good as new!”

He glanced over at you.

“Go home.”

“Come on, I’m already out, please!”

You grinned from ear to ear again, and he let out a heavy sigh, looking away from you.

“Fine, just don’t go getting into trouble again.”

“Deal!”

You happily carried on standing there with him, just enjoying his company.

Since you could never be sure who was listening or who was around, you guys didn’t talk much, and when the sun started to rise, wondered away, heading back home.

Getting changed into some shorts and an oversized hoodie, you made breakfast and had on the table ready when the door was opened again.

Aizawa came padded in, standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets and you laughed softly at him.

Reaching up, you unravelled his scarf carefully, and set it on the counter behind you.

Then you took his goggles off as well, setting that on the side as well before turning back to him.

“Coffee?”

He nodded his head, and you turned around to make his coffee for him, while you were doing that he stood behind you with his head in your shoulder.

Brining your hand up, you brushed some hair from your shoulder, resting your head on his as he set two cups of coffee down.

Aizawa reached around you for both the cups of coffee, then walked over to the table, setting them down, pulling your chair out for you.

You smiled at him, sitting down, letting him push your chair back in, kiss the top of your head, then took his own seat.

“You have an appointment this afternoon.” He said.

You hummed, nodding your head.

“Yeah, it’s just to make sure everything’s healing the way it should so it won’t be long.”

Aizawa got up, dragging his chair around and he tapped your leg, letting you know that he wanted it, so you put your legs in his lap.

He gently checked your right leg, examining over the surgical scars, making sure they looked alright.

“See, told you darling.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Grabbing his breakfast, you slid it over for him, then got up to carry on about your day.

When Aizawa went to sleep, you decided to take a small nap as well, only waking up when your alarm went off, and you rolled over to turn it off.

Aizawa reached out, reaching out, pulling you back into his chest and you laughed, rolling over.

You brushed some hair from his face, seeing he was awake.

“I have to go to my appointment.”

“You’ve got time.”

“Shota I love you, but I need to get up, come on.”

Leaning forward, you gave him a kiss, and he grinned a lazy grin, letting you go.

“Asshole.”

Getting changed, you walked around his side of the bed, kissing him once more as you grabbed his hoodie from the floor, pulling it on.

“I’ll come home soon, I love you.”

“Love you too.” He hummed.

You covered him back up with the quilt then left, making your way to your apartment.

Aizawa was supposed to go with you, but after being called out last night, you didn’t want to drag him out during the day.

You didn’t even make it to your appointment, when you were walking there you heard somebody cry out for help and without thinking you ran to go help.

You didn’t have your suit, or your weapon, but you had a duty to help people in need, so you dove into the action head first.

You quirk wasn’t supposed to be used in head on battle, so all you had was your own strength, trying to save as many people as you could from the villains.

Aizawa woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, and when he rolled over he answered it, thinking it was you.

“Hey…” he mumbled.

He sat up when he didn’t recognise the voice in the other end, and dropped his phone when he jumped out of bed.

Throwing on some clean clothes, he ran out of the apartment towards the car, heading straight to the hospital.

He ran into the reception, where he was led to a room and finally he was greeted by a doctor who wore a grim look on her face.

“I’m so sorry sir. We did everything we could but the damage it was just… it was too much…”

Aizawa threw the door open, walking over to the bed and the doctor pulled the sheet down from your face, leaving the room quietly.

Reaching out, he brushed some hair from your face, wiping a bit of dirt from under your eye with his thumb.

Walking over to the sink, he grabbed some tissue and put it under water, making his way back over to clean your face.

You never liked having a dirty face, you always had to clean it if you got even a little bit of dirt on it.

Once he was done, he sat next to you on the bed, holding your hand in his, slowly feeling the warmth drain from your body.

“You said you’d come home…” he muttered.

He stayed there for as long as they would let him, then when he had to leave, he got up, taking your necklace with him.

He never could find out what really happened that day, there was various reports saying different things, and the other heroes refused to tell him.

He never told anybody about your funeral, only a few close friends between you both, and he held it at night away from the press.

But he still did everything for two like he always did, when he made coffee, there was always a cup for you, there was always a plate for you.

It was habit, and he couldn’t stop, partly for doing it for so long, and partly because he didn’t want to stop because if he did he had to accept that you were actually gone.

You were never that far from him, wherever he went you always went with him.

He couldn’t see you, or hear you, but you stayed with him watching over him.

“Why do you watch him?”

You turned to the ghost next to you.

“I can’t return to my physical form yet, so I want to stay with him until I can.”

The lady sighed softly, giving you a sad smile.

“They all move on, it takes time but eventually he’ll move on as well. You going back might hurt him even more.”

“I… never thought about it that way.”

You looked back at Aizawa who was sitting down next to Hizashi in the staff room.

They were talking about students for the new semester of UA, and you sighed softly, looking as he turned to the photo of you on his next.

“(Y/N) would be proud you know.”

Aizawa didn’t say anything, he simply just got up and left the room.

“Maybe it would be better….”

You decided to stay away from him, going back to reassure new spirits, making it easier for them to adjust and pass into the next life.

Because of this you stopped seeing Aizawa, knowing that he was slowly moving on.

The thing about spirits was that they talked, so when they started saying about an incident going on at the USJ, you were immediately on high alert.

Your physical body had returned to you, it took time, but you kept yourself in your spiritual form, just to stay hidden, but it meant you now had your scythe and your costume back.

You wasted no time in running to the USJ, hearing whispering of eraser head and his students being in trouble.

It was the spirits warning you about it, telling you to go and help him, that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Running through the wall, you followed where the spirits were all pointing, and you yelled, swinging your scythe.

“Leave them alone!”

The blue haired man barely managed to dodge your attack, and you stood in front of him, looking at Aizawa behind him.

Returning to spiritual form, you swung your scythe for the Nomu pinning him to the ground, killing it with no hesitation.

You knelt over Aizawa in of protective manner, keeping a hand on his back.

The blue haired man charged for you, but froze when he realised his quirk wasn’t going to work, Aizawa was using his.

You weren’t focused on anything else but Aizawa and those students.

Thankfully the battle didnt last much longer, and when the villains left you knelt in front of Aizawa, hauling him into your arms, brushing his hair from his face.

“You’re not here…”

You smiled sadly, placing your hand over his heart.

“It’s not your time yet darling…”

He took a shaky breath.

“You left too soon…” he whispered.

“I’m so sorry…”

You helped him up, over to the green haired boy.

“Will you look after him?”

“Y..yes!”

You smiled softly, standing up, helping the green boy put Aizawa on his back, and you picked up your scythe.

“Who are you?” He asked.

You turned around, giving a sad smile.

“It’s not important.”

With that, you were gone from sight.

You thought Aizawa wouldn’t remember with being in the brink of death, but he did.

He remembered seeing you as clear as day, remember feeling you, feeling your hand on his chest and you holding him.

He thought maybe you’d show yourself, maybe you’d be there at home waiting but you weren’t.

Even the students confirmed seeing you, they’d asked him who you were, asking about a hero that looked like you.

Finally after searching everywhere else he went to the only other place he could think off.

He stood there at your headstone, staring down at your name, the he looked at the headstone.

“You know my quirk won’t work on you.”

There was a sigh, and your body shimmered into view, not quite in physical form, but not spiritual, in between which is what you did when you wanted to be seen but not touched.

He stared at you, eyes locked with yours before he turned around and walked away.

“Shota?”

“I just wanted to see if it was true.”

You walked in front of him, tears brimming your eyes as you looked at him.

“I thought it would be easier on you if I didn’t come back….”

He activated his quirk, cancelling yours, then he released his quirk, and you did the same.

“How long?”

“A few months…”

He slowly nodded his head.

“I’m so sorry…”

You sank to your knees, resting your head on the grass and began to cry into the grass.

You just kept saying how sorry you were, and Aizawa knelt down, placing his hand on your back.

You looked up, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, letting you cry into his chest, and he buried his face into your shoulder.

“You idiot…”

You let out a strained laugh.

“Promise me you’ll never leave again…” he mumbled.

You sniffled a little bit, nodding your head.

“I promise…”

Aizawa stood up, lifting you up with him, and he set your feet down in the ground, and he walked in front of you, crouching down just a little.

“Let’s go home.” He said.

You nodded, climbing on his back, letting him carry you back out to the street, and you wrapped your arms over his shoulder, balling your hands into his scarf.

It wasn’t for you, but it was to reassure Aizawa that you were really there, that you were actually coming home with him this time.

You knew his was hurt, and angry.

When you got home he went straight to bed, so you decided to sleep on the couch instead, and what woke you up was someone laying over you.

Instinctively you wrapped your arms around around him, opening your eyes a little bit to see Aizawa tuck his head under your chin.

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you, but you held him with one arm, running your fingers through his hair with your other one.

You knew eventually you’ll have to actually to sit down and talk Aizawa about what happened, but right now wasn’t the time.

Now was the time for him to just bask in the fact that you were back with him, and he did that by laying over you, listening to your heartbeat and taking your necklace from his pocket, putting the ring back in your finger where it belonged.

He didn’t care who knew anymore, you were his and you were home and that’s all that mattered

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you #my hero academia imagine #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha imagine #mha #Aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #Aizawa imagine

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thebiggestfuckgiven · 7 months ago

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Ectoberweek 25: Graveyard Shift

Rating: T

Warnings: Descriptions of gore, mentions of experimentation (implied narratively and in the gore as well), mentions of loss (it still counts if its yourself/a version of you), horror, and dissociation-ish

A/N: okay I accidentally used the prompt of the same day I used last year, but maybe i’ll do it on purpose next time and invent a new tradition for myself. Danny, as usual, suffers ✨ I’m very happy I got to do a little something for Ectober this year. I was afraid I wouldn’t get the chance to. Please enjoy <3

-💜-

The night sky was startlingly clear. There were no stars, only that faint indistinguishable hue of air pollution, but it was still an amazing view. Then again, when you’ve been kept captive indoors for months on end, any view of the outside world is beautiful. Even if that view is a polluted star-less sky in a grimy, smelly city.

The cemetery he was in was no less of a spectacle, grim as it was. It had no wrought iron fence or any kind of enclosure, instead having been left open on all sides for all to come and go.

Truth be told, Danny had no idea where he was. They never told him where they were taking him when it was time to ship him to a new facility. He thought that was pointless. Who was he going to tell, really? They probably liked keeping him in the dark. Better to control that way. Whatever. The joke, now, was on both of them.

About ten or fifteen blocks away, sirens blared faintly from a scarce street. Firefighters, ambulances, police— the whole bunch of them gathered around an unmarked containment truck flipped on its side. The drivers could still be alive, if the group who had attacked them wasn’t cruel enough to change that.

Danny assumed they thought they’d find expensive tech and cutting edge resources, and they did. Sort of. What they hadn’t expected was to find Danny. The crash had made his container malfunction, and those doors opened… well, he wasn’t about to let that opportunity pass him by.

All he took with him was himself, and he left the daring group alive. They wouldn’t have known what to do with him, anyways.

He flew as fast as he could until he found this cemetery. They would start looking for him in a few hours, and if he wanted to get away, he’d have to find a hiding spot first. One of these, he figured, must be empty. Graves weren’t just for bodies, after all. Sometimes, they were for the idea of one. A body never recovered, or completely destroyed. Graves were for people, too.

He hovered over one in particular. It gave the impression that it was empty. How he knew was a mystery to him, but he was grateful for it.

The headstone read,

Stephanie Brown

Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Friend.

Your smile will always live in our hearts.

xxx xx, xxxx - xxx xx, xxx

The stone wasn’t worn or aged. She’d been “buried” recently. Hand resting gently on the headstone, he wondered what could have happened to her that she had to be buried without herself.

Far away, the sirens died down.

Maybe the answer will reveal itself to him eventually. He knelt on the soft grass and sunk a hand through the ground.

“Uh, can I help you?”

Danny froze up. That was one thing he forgot about cemeteries. Like graves, they weren’t just for the dead, either. He yanked his hand out of the ground and slowly glanced over his shoulder.

Behind him stood a young woman. The first thing he noticed were the clothes. She wore a purple beanie and a thick black jacket with a purple shirt underneath. The second thing was her hair, blonde and wavy, because it was curled around her neck like a makeshift scarf.

Glancing upwards, he saw no clouds. No snow… it was autumn already, then. But that… that meant he was gone for more than a few months. It meant he missed the whole school year. He was supposed to graduate high school in the summer.

“Are you okay? You don’t exactly look… all there.”

He faced the young woman again. The way she said it made it sound like it had a hidden meaning, which he quickly caught on to.

“I— sorry, I’ll get out of your way,” he muttered, pushing himself up to his feet, though unnecessarily so when he could’ve floated away.

“It’s all good,” she replied, watching him carefully. “Did you know her?”

“Hm? Oh, you mean Stephanie? Um, not really. I was just… paying my respects.” The lie felt misshapen in his mouth. She looked at him confused. He kept talking to steer her away from any questions. “Did you? Know her, I mean.”

“I used to,” was all she said to that. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him. He wanted to leave. “Do you live here?”

“No? What kind of person lives in a graveyard?”

Her hand still in her jacket pocket, she gestured towards all of Danny with a tilt of her head.

“Your kind of person, I’m pretty sure. Shit, unless you aren’t self-aware and I just ruined that.” Her eyes widened with genuine concern, making the reminder click in Danny’s head that he looked decidedly not-human under the night sky. That, and surrounded by well-meaning headstones, anyone would’ve walked the other way at the sight of him.

Almost anyone.

“Ah,” he said simply, looking down at his glowing, translucent self. “That. And you’re not, I dunno, shocked? Horrified?”

She shrugged. “It’s October in Gotham. I’ve seen worse.”

The statement sent a shiver like lightning right through him. A whole year… and Gotham was far but not it was still the Eastern area of the States. He could easily fly back home.

Maybe not.

How can he go back like this?

“Listen,” the blonde woman said, interrupting his thoughts. “You look a little out of it for a ghost. What brings you to this cemetery and m- Stephanie’s grave?”

“Um…” Danny glanced behind the wide headstone, where he saw himself. Danny Fenton lay lifeless and disfigured, his left leg missing and the skin of his right arm cut and held open by two tiny metal clamps attached to a single, wrap-around wire. There was muscle tissue and veins missing. The other arm was charred into an indistinguishable stump, melted skin folded over itself horrifically in too many layers, melded by heat-raised bubbles that were long solidified.

Where his left eye once was, there was now a vacant void. A window into his true self: a perfectly preserved brain thrumming with unnatural green light. Dead, and impossibly present. His other eye was still there, but just as vacant. Black hair glistened with remnants of the ectoplasmic waste they used to keep Danny Fenton fresh.

It was a quick glance. He fought not to throw up, ghostly body functioning now on memory alone.

“I thought…” that no one would see me “I’d check the place out. I paid my respects to some of the other graves.” He hesitated. He shouldn’t ask. He doesn’t want to know about Stephanie Brown, about the resting place he’ll be desecrating with the thing he became. “Hers is… empty. Can I ask what happened to her?”

The blonde woman’s reaction was small. A brief raise of the eyebrows, eyes widening for a second before going back to their watchful gaze.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you know it’s empty,” she said with a hint of a smile. “I can’t really go into any details, but let’s just say that the girl they buried there doesn’t exist anymore.”

He had no idea what that meant.

“Why do you… still visit her?”

She seemed to think this over, looking out onto the street far away from where they were.

“That girl, she was so,” the blonde woman sighed, “naive and hotheaded. She would try so hard to be something without caring to think of what it would take and in the end, it’s what did her in. But I still cared about her, and I guess I still miss her sometimes.”

The sincerity caught Danny off guard. He couldn’t help the way he stared at her, wondering if anyone talked about him like that. Did they make him a grave, or did they just… discard his memory? Would he ever get to stand over his own headstone and think of all the things he used to be, loving and missing that person?

He frowned a little, and watched the blonde woman.

She smiled fondly, a sort of bittersweetness in her expression, at the headstone. Then she took a breath, blinked a few times, and redirected her smile to Danny.

“Your turn. What are you really doing here? Looking for real estate opportunities,” she joked, eyes twinkling. Danny refrained from stepping away and turning tail. He looked at her closely.

She didn’t seem familiar, but the GIW were growing larger and there were plenty of operatives that Danny has never met. Her jacket was big enough to hide a blaster… but they couldn’t have found him so quickly. No, besides, no self-respecting operative would wear such expressive colors.

“Something like that,” he blurted out before he could even think. “I mean, not like that. I don’t… I don’t know anymore.” His voice was a soft whisper and he stared at himself where he lay crumpled. “I don’t think I can go back home anymore. I don’t… I don’t know who I am. What I am. People aren’t supposed to… live through things like these, aren’t they? Die through, or whatever.”

“What things?” The question was tentative. “Are you— what are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” he said with bitter conviction. “Absolutely nothing. I was going to hide it in your coffin.”

“How did you—? wait, hide what?” Her voice changed from its friendly, wistful tone to a razor-sharp serious one. She stepped closer to him, trying to meet his gaze.

“Got a feeling. Like I might do the same one day, if I had one.”

Danny didn’t stop her when she got too close to her own headstone. When she followed the direction of his gaze to the twisted, hollow thing that ate up the surrounding shadows like this blacker than black void that was trying to grow into a walking, lifeless monster made up of clinical pain and suffering.

Stephanie did not scream or gasp. She held the headstone in a brutal grip, short nails painfully scraping against it. Her mouth gaped wordlessly, jaw trembling with shaky and uneven breaths. The lines of her face contorted into themselves in their attempt to make sense of the thing they were seeing. Eyes glistened even in the shadows, their pupils a disappearing pinprick.

Stephanie’s horror was a silent one.

“What— wh-who is that? Is that—?”

“Me,” he said flatly. “I thought I’d be able to escape. That I would last longer than their curiosity and hate.” He clenched his fists. “I saw a glimpse of snow the day it happened. I” —his voice cracked— “I didn’t even make it three months.”

Stephanie stared at him, transfixed. At the Danny Fenton that would never again be.

“Wh-what happened to you?” Her voice trembled, barely a breeze-like whisper.

“Don’t ask me that,” he said, strained and holding back suffocating memories. “P-please don’t— just, don’t.” He took a gasping breath, eyes snapping wildly towards the sound of screeching tires in the distance. A big car headed their way. “Hey, listen. Hey— Stephanie.”

A creaking slingshot, her wide stare shot back towards him. Her mouth had been snapped shut, and loud, shallow breaths tried to push themselves in and out of her nose.

“Take care of him, please,” he begged, bright, opalescent tears falling freely down his face. “They can’t find him again. The pain will never end again. Just— I, I don’t know, get him a coffin or anything, but don’t bury him yet. I’ll find him again, but I can’t stay. I can’t, they can’t find us again. Promise me, please?”

This was a complete stranger in front of him. But she had her own grave, and she stood over it alive and well. He had to trust her with the only thing he had left. She would understand that. She had to.

“Stephanie, please,” he pleaded once more when she said nothing. The loud engine of that big car became louder. The downward rush of a thick, heavy axe.

She nodded, shakily.

“I-I promise, yeah.” She cleared her throat, pulling herself from the edge and regaining clarity. “Yes. I will. Go, I’ll- I’ll take care of it. Whatever it is.”

Danny cried. An urgency was overtaking him, thrusting him into that day they hunted him down.

“Thank you,” he managed to whisper before shooting off into the clear night sky, leaving behind a faint comet-green streak. He disappeared in seconds, leaving Stephanie Brown alone with the horrifyingly disfigured corpse of a teenager and her clattering thoughts.

She pulled out her phone in a shaky flash, going straight to the Favorites in her Contacts.

The call connected after the third ring.

“I need your help hiding a body.”

#dpxdc #ectoberhaunt24 #ectoberweek24 #ectober day 25 #i saw the word ‘graveyard’ and ran away with it like a maniac #the shift part?#danny @ stephanie: it’s ur turn with my tortured dead body bye #WHO DO WE THINK STEPHANIE CALLED?#the answer might be obvious but then again it might not be #this was fun #happy halloween!!!#cw body horror #cw gore #horror

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calcifiedunderland · 2 years ago

Text

Pride & Prejudice: A TWSTed AU

The Merchant from the Depths: A. Ashengrotto

Introduction, or pick another route!

Azul x GN Reader (they/them)

Warnings: Azul is (lovingly) a sus dumbass and businessman, P&P level angst and insults, I got carried away and this is 6k words im so sorry

Azul was staring at you again.

Surprisingly, at this point you were sort of used to it. If anything, you stared back at him, dead in the eye, until he broke eye contact, adjusting his glasses or ruffling his hair. Still, it unnerved you a bit more than you’d care to admit.

Ever since his overblot, you noticed that he’d make his presence known around you. Whether it was Azul himself, or Jade or Floyd lurking around your general vicinity and eventually herding you near Mostro Lounge, it was starting to get a little concerning. Especially because of that strange look in his eye when he thought you weren’t looking.

Still, you got some weird signals from Azul, because sometimes he’d chat with you (and not-so-subtly get you to sign a deal with him). Other times, he’d hardly meet your eyes at all.

So now, you decided to ruffle him. It wasn’t like you could go toe-to-toe (tentacle-to-tentacle?) with Azul without causing a massive headache, and staring back at him was hardly the worst thing one could do at NRC. So, you initiated a staring contest with him. You won every time, and he always slunk back with pink dusting his cheeks. The bitter shame of defeat, you thought proudly. Nevermind that it was cute seeing a different side to him, your stomach doing flips.

Meanwhile, still slumped in his seat, Azul attempted to cool his face off. Sevens, you always seemed to surprise him. Humans were so odd - just when he thought he had you all figured out, you always did something that threw him off guard. It appears you weren’t the quiet Prefect all of the time. As class ended and he walked back to Octavinelle, his mind drifted.

The past few weeks following his overblot were strange, indeed. Three days earlier, he sat across from you in his office, smug that he’d finally get Ramshackle. Then a few days later, he was returning the very photo he’d contracted you to steal, and rethinking everything he thought about you. The landfolk always talk about sirens in the sea, he thought irritably as he rubbed his temple, staring down a blank contract. But if the landfolk had their version of sirens, you’d be it.

He tapped the fishbone quill against his desk, gritting his teeth. He didn’t know how much time had passed until Jade entered his office, followed by Floyd who leaned against the doorframe. “Azul, we have this week’s profits-“ Jade stopped when he saw him, “oh? Are you alright? Have you been overworking?”

Azul sighed, flopping back in the armchair. Jade hummed, “perhaps it has to do with a meddling someone?” Azul’s face flushed, and Jade had his answer.

“Fufu, this is interesting,” Jade grinned and watched as Azul composed himself, pushing his glasses up. “We have reasonable proof that the Prefect also shares feelings for you, Azul.” The dorm leader stopped and looked at him.

“…Really?” He asked, resting a hand beneath his elbow and propping his head up. “What proof?

“Who else but the only other soul in the school who dorms with them?” A grin spread slowly across Azul’s face, and he hummed to himself, pleased, “I suppose I should… affirm this for myself. Thank you, Jade.” His glasses glinted ominously in the light as the twins matched his grin. “You should turn in for the night, I’ll be here.” He snapped his fingers and a blank piece of golden parchment unfurled itself midair. “I should make preparations.”

—•—💜🐙💜—•—

Grim had never been this hungry nor intimidated in his life. And never at the same time.

It all started when he went to the cafeteria to get something for lunch, and he was stopped by Azul’s two lackeys. Then, he was whisked into Mostro Lounge with the promises of all the tuna he could want, with desserts!, if only he’d have a little chat with the Housewarden. Despite his grumbling stomach, he was still coherent enough to know bad idea, big no-no. Prefect will yell at you.

Then he saw the buffet of tuna on the table and all reason left him.

He lunged at the table, already drooling, when Floyd caught him around his midsection, “Ah ah ah, sealie,” he grinned ominously, “you gotta talk to the boss!”

At that moment, Azul strode into the room, blue dorm uniform jacket billowing behind him. “Ah, Grim, so good of you to join us.” He seated himself next to the head of the table, where Floyd plopped Grim down. Grim watched dazedly as Floyd and Jade moved to stand behind his chair, while Azul was already pulling out a lengthy contract followed by a little inkpot.

“I understand that you and the Prefect are close? Perhaps, you’d be willing to tell me a bit more… about them,” Azul smirked, watching the fear and hunger swirl in Grim’s eyes. The little cat monster leaned away from him, and Azul loomed closer. “I ain’t telling you anythin’!” He’s still loyal, griped Azul internally. But Azul wasn’t the infamous business-mer of Octavinelle for nothing.

“Of course, of course!” He waved a hand, adjusting his glasses with the other, “I would never want to pry! After all,” he smirked dangerously at Grim, who felt a shiver run down his back, “I am a changed man! And I have the Prefect to thank for it.”

As if on cue, Jade and Floyd leaned down closer to Grim, and he could feel their breaths on his fur. Azul continued, watching Grim’s composure crack with satisfaction, now we’re getting somewhere. “I simply want to thank the Prefect with an… alliance,” he took a saucer and spooned out some expensive tuna, piling it on a cracker, “one that would, of course benefit them. Benefit you.”

Grim opened his mouth to protest, but Azul stuffed the cracker into his mouth. He grinned at the twins, “today is simply the first day of negotiations. If you tell me what I want to know, then this sumptuous feast-“ he brandished a gloved hand to the table laden with food “-is yours. But this is the first of many to come.”

He leaned closer to Grim, satisfied that the hunger in the cat monster’s eyes was growing after whetting his appetite with the tuna cracker. “If your information proves useful, and the Prefect and I form a relationship, I will provide you with high quality foods and comfort.”

To drive the point, Azul topped a cracker with tuna, “including all the tuna,” he added a spoonful of caviar, “you could ever,” he squeezed a lemon over it, “want.”

Grim’s eyes were sparkling, and he opened his mouth as Azul brought the cracker closer to him. Suddenly Azul stuffed the cracker into his own mouth, and Grim’s face fell. Azul’s smirk grew, and he leaned back nonchalantly chewing on the caviar, pleased at the lemon’s tang, “but of course, this depends on how well you help me. You’ll be able to eat after our little chat, don’t worry. I’ll be contacting you for information later today.”

Azul could see the exact millisecond that Grim relented. Eyes sparkling, Grim yelled “HECK YEAH!” And stuffed a paw into the inkpot before Azul could react. Grim slammed his paw where the signature line was, ink splattering on the tablecloth, but Azul didn’t care. Yes, you’ve played right into my grasp, he grinned and snapped his fingers. As the twins backed off and Grim catapulted himself into the middle of the table, Azul chuckled to himself as he ambled back to his office, the Prefect is as good as mine.

—•—💜🐙💜—•—

That’s odd, you thought as you glanced at the clock, Grim should be here by now.

He didn’t come to lunch today, and you hadn’t seen him in a while. It wasn’t usually like Grim to skip a meal, and now it was late evening, and you still didn’t know where he was.

You sighed. You had no energy to deal with this. It was slowly getting later and later, and it was already dark out when you heard the front door open and saw Grim trudging in, looking exhausted.

“Grim!” You scooped him up and hugged him, “where were you?! I was so worried! Don’t do that again!” You blubbered, “are you hungry?” “Nope!” Grim said quickly, which made you a little suspicious. Grim? Not hungry? Sure, when the Scalding Sands freezes over.

“Did you eat?” Grim tensed in your grip, “yeah! Just- stop askin’ questions henchhuman! You worry too much.” He got out of your arms and padded off. “Grim, where did you go?” Grim stopped, eyes wide. “Don’t worry about it!” He raced up to your room, while you frowned behind him. You were definitely worrying about it.

—•—💜🐙💜—•—

Earlier that day, Grim went to his classes after lunch, completely content after his meal at Mostro Lounge and forgetting about his deal. After clubs, he began making his way back to Ramshackle when two shadows loomed behind him. Squeaking, he turned back and lo and behold, Jade and Floyd were grinning at him.

“Eh~ Has sealie-o forgot his little promise?” Floyd cackled, grabbing Grim, “don’t worry, we didn’t!~” It was at that moment Grim knew; he fucked up. This was a mistake. A trap. A grim Grim error. The twins strode into the hall of mirrors, heading straight for Azul’s office. Floyd plopped Grim down on the seat across from Azul, who rested his chin on his intertwined hands. Grim shivered as Azul’s glasses glinted ominously in the light. Azul tapped his quill twice against the desk, smirking assuredly.

“Now, let us begin~”

—•—💜🐙💜—•—

“Grim, what’s this all about?

You were almost running behind your cat monster, who seemed a little too skittish to be without blame. Ever since he came home late that day, he’d been oddly quiet. It all started when you got a letter addressed to you.

My dearest Prefect,

I hope this message finds you well. In light of what transpired before winter break, I’ve realized that I never properly thanked you for helping me.

As such, it would be my honor to host you at Mostro Lounge this evening. I cordially invite you to dinner tonight, please arrive punctually. I look forward to seeing you soon.

Yours,

Azul Ashengrotto

When you tried to find Jade and Floyd (Sevens only knew how long you looked for Azul himself before you gave up), they merely smiled ominously at you and remained just out of reach. As the evening approached, you were left only with confusion and a very skittish Grim. For the past week, he’d come back to Ramshackle later and later, but curiously he wasn’t hungry at all. This was odd - your little cat monster was always down for tuna. Except now.

When you mentioned the dinner to him, he laughed nervously and curiously didn’t ask to tag along. “Why? Its a dinner at Mostro Lounge. Its free. Don’t you want food?” Grim gulped, rubbing the top of his head strangely. “A-and see those two weirdos an’ Azul again? No way!” Still, you noticed his ears pinning back on his head. He’s scared.

“What did they do?” Your eyes narrowed and Grim flinched. “Nothin! You should go to your date!” “Grim, its not a date…” you turned to the letter thoughtfully, “or is it?” “For the love of- YES ITS A DATE! I’m not gonna let that contract go to nothin’!” Grim screeched, the flames on his ears flaring up. Wait… why was it purple and growing out of his head?

“Grim what did you do?!” You watched in horror as an anemone grew out of Grim’s head yet again. “You signed a contract with him?! Why the hell did you do that?!” Grim’s face fell into shock. “Uh oh, I wasn’t supposed to tell ya that…”

With that, the cat monster raced out of the room and made a beeline straight for the Octavinelle mirror. “Grim!” You ran after him, tripping as you fell into the mirror. You thudded on the floor, panting, until two pairs of nice dress shoes came into sight. “Hello, Prefect,” Jade greeted with a hand on his chest. Floyd picked you up by the shoulders and dusted you off. “Welcome to Mostro Lounge~”

The Lounge is… different, you realized. For starters, there was no one there - usually around this time, there’d be customers. Did the Lounge close early tonight? The ambience also was… new. Sure, it was always a little dark since it was underwater-ish, but now there were candle-lit tables flickering, highlighting a central table with two chairs. Somehow it felt very… intimate.

Surely this was some kind of weird prank? “...whats going on?” you looked at the twins, who started chuckling. You suddenly got your bearings back, voice rising in pitch, “Where is Grim?!”

“Ah, Prefect, you’ve arrived.”

You looked up, eyes widening. Azul strode into the Lounge, pearlescent and practically gleaming. His hair was slicked back, and he was dressed smartly in a light greyish-blue suit. He looked opulent, with a layered pearl necklace around his neck reminiscent of his outfit from the festival at Noble Bell. Instead of his usual rectangle glasses, he wore his round-lens frames. In his left breast pocket was a dark blue rose, which he carefully took and held out to you. “Its wonderful of you to join us. Shall we begin?”

What in the cinnamon toast fuck was going on?

—•—💜🐙💜—•—

Last night, Azul came up with 862 date plans to ensure you had fun. And you will have fun!

He managed to get his money’s (and tuna buffet’s) worth after making (convincing) Grim to sign that contract with him. When Floyd dropped Grim into the seat across from him, Azul grilled him on your interests.

All night, he pored over his notes, going over every detail that Grim said. His main questions were answered, like Is the Prefect looking for a partner?, What does the Prefect want in a partner?, What is the Prefect attracted to?, and so on. In the end, he left his last question unanswered - partially because Grim looked far too frazzled to answer, and because Azul was too scared to ask.

His final question: Does the Prefect love me back? remained unanswered at the bottom of the page. Thankfully, he thought as he pulled your chair out and had you sit down, I don’t need to answer it. You will love me by the end of the night!

As Azul sat down across from you, you gulped. You severely underestimated what this dinner would be. But with Azul dressed to the nines, the twins snickering over your shoulders, and Grim being skittish all day, this could only mean one thing: you were going to have a literal romantic candle-lit dinner with the same dude who nearly made you homeless and made Grim an anemone.

It sickened you. It was overwhelming. So much that you could hardly get any words out as Jade wafted to the table carrying platters of your favorite foods, while Azul laced his fingers together and observed you so gently. It wasn’t like you could get any words in, because Azul began talking at you, Jade started grinning, and you were just reeling. You could hear Floyd humming along with the sizzle of frying oil, and became hyperfocused on random things: Jade’s golden eye. The candle flame flickering. The smell of food. And Azul’s analytical eyes watching you as he spoke.

As Azul began a long tirade about ‘how lovely it was to finally sit down and speak with you Prefect! I do appreciate your time, as you can see we’ve prepared the Lounge to your taste! We hope the food is to your liking and-‘ you cut him off.

“Azul, where is Grim?” You said flatly, putting down your knife and fork. You weren’t even eating anyway, you’d just shoved the food around the plate. By now you were tired of asking questions and wanted answers, dammit. Azul’s eyes widened, and he leaned on his elbow. “Grim is fine! In fact, he was kind enough to tell me all about you.”

You tensed. This wasn’t good. You weren’t necessarily hiding anything, but it wasn’t like you wanted Azul to know things he shouldn’t. “…like what?” You asked, taking up your drink and sipping it slowly. If Azul was going to be coy, you would too. You wouldn’t lose your composure to him.

Azul leaned forward, smirk growing. “Many things,” he tapped a gloved finger against his cheek, “your preferred foods, your aesthetic or decor, and curiously,” his eyes locked onto yours, “your interest in me.”

Strictly speaking, that was a bluff; Grim hadn’t told him that. But as you visibly grew flustered, he thought he hit the nail on the head. “Now now, don’t worry, we didn’t discuss anything bad! Rather, after speaking to him, I have a proposal that I believe would interest you greatly.”

He snapped his fingers, and a gleaming golden contract unfurled beside him. Pushing up his glasses, Azul seemed to smile gently at you. “Now, you would gain plenty things - a free meal at Mostro Lounge per week, a consistent stream of gifts, flowers delivered to Ramshackle every Monday, along with meetings with me each Saturday-” He was about to continue when you cut him off.

“This… this has to be some kind of trick,” you muttered, dazed. You didn’t even realize you said it out loud until Azul’s gaze softened, “No, I’m being completely serious, Prefect. I-“ “What is this?” You demanded, straightening up.

Azul visibly bristled at your words, practiced businessman-smile wavering. “This? This is just a fraction of what I can give you!” He forced himself to keep his composure, “o-of course we can amend the contract-“ “Azul! What is the contract for?!” By now you were beyond worried. You had no idea where Grim disappeared to, and had no explanation about this dinner thing Azul clearly dressed to the nines for. “What am I agreeing to?!”

Azul went pink. “I-I…” you could overhear Jade snickering in the kitchen while something seemed to fall over. Azul cleared his throat, starting to look strangely shy. “I would like you to be my partner.” You frowned deeply, “I’m not working with you. Why do you want me to be your business partner anyway?” At your words, you heard Jade and Floyd bark in laughter while Azul looked like he wanted to sink into his suit

“I mean.. romantically,” he whispered. Your eyes widened while your heart pounded. Slowly, things started to fall into place. Your eyes narrowed, this was too good to be true. “Why?” Azul’s eyes widened, “well, why not?” You stayed silent, just looking at him. Despite being in a not-enemy-situation with Azul, you didn’t exactly forget what transpired before winter break. How you and Jack walked into Octavinelle with the twins, and sat across from Azul as he tried to kick you and Grim out of Ramshackle. And how he gave you backhanded insult after insult, and for what? For him to come up to you now, months later, just to tug on your heartstrings?

He still wanted Ramshackle after all that soul-searching at the Atlantica Museum? Anger burned hot in your stomach. Had he no shame?

Azul grew nervous at your silence. Foolishly, he rambled to fill the quiet, “w-well, you’re quite the intriguing human. Not many have successfully defied my contracts. And I… understand that our first meeting was… less than ideal…” He carefully watched for your reactions, but your face was unreadable, “but I am willing to make amends. I’ve grown affectionate of you, and I believe that I can provide you with enough benefits to make you happy.” He tried for a debonair smile and pointed to the contract, “You will receive many things and more. Quite honestly, this deal is very unlike me - truly, I’m going against my own better judgement.”

This had to be a dream. You laughed humorlessly, surprising him. “And what do you receive?” Azul smiled gently at you, “All I really want is you.” You barked out a laugh, feeling so emotionally exhausted you could cry. “Yeah, sure, and Ramshackle right?” Azul’s eyes widened and he hurriedly tried to explain, “No, of course not-” “Yeah right!” You stood up, glaring down at him. “This-this is some kind of trick right?!” You grabbed the contract and scanned it:

“In accordance with help from Grim, he shall be compensated fittingly for the following tasks:

1) Providing information on the Prefect, (Name)’s, interests in a partner

2) Helping with distinguishing of the Prefect’s preferred romantic aesthetics (dining, love language, physical attributes, personality, etc.)

3) Meeting for the summation of one (1) week to discuss topics regarding (Name)

If Grim tells the Prefect, (Name), details regarding Azul Ashengrotto’s plans before the intended date, then he shall be indebted to Azul for an indefinite time as an anemone-worker.”

You didn’t even bother reading the rest of it. Your eyes were locked on the last line.

“You extorted Grim?!” you screeched, making Jade and Floyd stick their heads out the kitchen door. “You extorted Grim and you expect me to date you?!” Azul tried to calm you down, “Yes- I mean no- I just asked him a few questions! He was compensated with food-” “So that’s why he came back late?! This was what Grim was being weird about?” You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, rubbing your eyes and feeling a few tears come out. “I knew that letter had to be some kind of trick. I knew this was a mistake.” Azul bristled, “a mistake?! Do you have any idea how long this took to prepare?! I could date anyone in this school, but I chose you! Against my own better judgement!”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking him dead in the eye. “You chose the human with ‘no innate magical power.’” Azul flinched, but you blazed on, hyperventilating, “You chose the ‘utterly run-of-the-mill’ human with the one thing you want - Ramshackle.” Azul finally shut up, he talks too much you thought bitterly. “You’ve insulted me in every possible way. You’ve tried to extort me, you’ve taken advantage of Grim twice, and now you’re trying to play with my emotions to kick me out of Ramshackle! Again!” You clenched your fists, vision tunneling. “Are you kidding me?! I am never! Going to date you!” you shoved the now-crumpled contract into Azul’s chest as he blubbered. “I’m not signing that contract! You are the last person I would date on this campus!”

The silence that followed hung in the air thickly. As you breathed heavily, you realized the weight of your words. Azul was by no means a person to make an enemy of, but you had spoken the truth. And he seemed to realize that. “Then if that’s your decision, there’s no point in continuing this dinner.”

Azul sighed quietly, “Floyd, bring Grim out. Let them leave.” Grim bounded up to you, puffing angrily until you gave him a look, “ you, Grim, are in so much trouble.”

—•—💜🐙💜—•—

The next few weeks were quiet. And considerably unsupervised by two eels and an octopus.

After you told your friends about what happened, unsurprisingly Ace and Deuce were angry. Jack was pissed too, “you’re tellin’ me Azul still wants Ramshackle?! After all this time?” Jack clenched his fists while Deuce had a crazed ‘delinquent’ look. “I thought we showed him not to mess with ya’ before! Even after making us anemone’s he doesn’t know when to quit!”

You sighed, already tired. “look, nothing’s happened. I don’t think he’ll try anything.” Not after you wrecked his ego.

Jack crossed his arms, “that octopunk better not be plotting. He may honor a contract, but you can’t trust a schemer.” You shrugged, “He can’t do anything because I didn’t sign the contract, so even if he did want Ramshackle, he’d have to go about it differently. Anyway,” you glanced at the time, “Lunch is about to end. See you guys after class, c’mon Grim.” You all parted ways, and you and Grim walked into History of Magic.

You listened to Professor Trein drone on, and after a while of notetaking, he cleared his throat. “To end this unit, I will be assigning a project in which you will report on the magical history of a specific place. I have randomly assigned you a place to report on,” he regarded the room full of groaning students, gesturing to the table behind him “you have one month to finish it. Class dismissed. The area you will report on is listed on the papers behind me, beside your name.” Students flocked to the table, and you waited a bit for everyone to clear out while you collected your things.

Finally, you walked to the table and flipped the papers, looking for your and Grim’s names while Trein hummed at the podium. Lucius slunk between your ankles, purring softly while your heart sank at what you had to report on.

“The Coral Sea?” You looked up at Trein, “S-sir, I won’t be able to-” “Why not?,” the man asked, picking Lucius up. You mirrored him and picked Grim up, who crossed his arms, “nya, its Azul’s ‘n his hencheels’ home!” Way to be obvious, Grim. Trein raised an eyebrow, “It’s always good to learn more about others’ homelands. It may do you and Grim good to learn more about this world, and from what I gather, you have been there before.” You flinched, but Trein didn’t seem to condemn you. “However, you aren’t the only terrestrial student assigned an aquatic area. While I won’t make every student visit their assigned areas, I believe it will be beneficial if you visit them. I will speak to Professor Crewel about providing you underwater breathing potions.”

While that wasn’t what you were worried about, you still appreciated it. “Thank you, Professor,” you shouldered Grim, determined. “We won’t let you down.”

—•—💜🐙💜—•—

After about a week of waiting, and getting jumpscared by Crowley who gave you an underwater breathing potion after singing his own praises (“ah! How generous I am!~”), you and Grim headed to the Dark Mirror. “The Coral Sea,” you called out, gulping, “The Atlantica Memorial Museum.” As the Mirror swirled, so too did your mind as you stepped in after taking the potion.

You floated in the water for a moment. The last time I was here was… Ah, right. When you were stealing from the museum, and when you returned the photo with everyone. The photo… you swam towards the museum, which was thankfully open this time. You willfully ignored the mer-museum goers, some who looked surprised to see a human. You supposed you couldn’t blame them, though - you were floored when you saw the twins’ eel forms for the first time.

You and Grim swam around the exhibits for a bit, with you taking notes and Grim finding the information. Even though you didn’t really want to do the assignment in the first place, you couldn’t deny that it was fascinating seeing human ‘artifacts’ from a merfolk perspective. You were able to get a good amount of material - from the mermaid princess’ hairbrush (which was just a fork?), the Sea King’s trident, and a replica of the Sea Witch’s crown and nautilus. The museum even had some of her old makeup products - which was a shellfish she squeezed. Cool. Anyway.

Now you and Grim were tired, and it was around late lunchtime since you got to the museum as soon as it opened. As you both headed out, Grim stretched, swirling in the water, “henchhuman, I’m hungry!,” his eyes lit up and despite the oceanwater, you swore you could see drool, “Ya think the Coral Sea has any good eats?! Oh, imagine the seafood…!” You noted that the potion duration still had some time left, but still. You were hungry too after using all your energy swimming, and it wasn’t like you’d be back in the Coral Sea anytime soon. After thinking, you nodded, “sure, we can go look.”

The museum was close to the ‘city,’ so you both swam around. A few merfolk murmured in surprise at seeing a human and cat, but you tried to ignore it. Suddenly Grim gasped, “nya, the Mostro Lounge?!” Your head snapped up to the bioluminescent sign. A swirl of emotions went through you, while Grim blanked out remembering his contract. It isn’t like you’ll see Azul here (name). You’ll be fine. “...Azul did say that the Lounge at school is a sister location, I think…” Still, this place looks way too fancy. You definitely couldn’t afford it.

“Welp, we can’t afford it Grim, lets go-” you tried to swirl around and swim off but you were a little clumsy in the water. You knocked over a shell decoration at the entrance accidentally, and Grim crashed into a merman guest. “Hey! Easy there- wait, a human?!” Oh no, immediately the merfolk zeroed in on you. You stiffened nervously. You caught some whispers, “Are they a student?,” “Look, they have a Night Raven College uniform,” “Wow! A human!”

You looked around nervously, unconsciously backing into the restaurant when you heard a female voice behind you. “Oh, are you a student at Night Raven College?” You whirled around, crashing into the tentacles of an older mer-octopus lady. She didn’t seem fazed, but smiled widely at you. Even before she introduced herself, you recognized those eyes and well-placed mole.

“Hello dear! I run this restaurant, my son goes to your school as well! Perhaps you know him?” She held your gaze, but you could feel her tentacles fixing your collar and blazer, while she dusted your shoulders off with her hands. “I- I might,” you stammered, “I’m (name).” “Oh, its so nice to meet one of my baby’s friends! He’s told me all about you!” As she grabbed Grim around the torso with a tentacle, she firmly grasped your shoulders. “Please, you must have something to eat!” As she steered you to a table, you tried to gather your bearings. You were seated, and she thrust a menu into your hands.

“It’s so nice to meet you, (name)! You’re the prefect, right?” Your eyes widened, but she continued. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Azul’s mother! My son is the Octavinelle housewarden,” she said proudly, confirming your suspicions. “Really?,” you asked, wondering what the odds were that you’d meet the mother of the guy you viciously dumped. She took your surprise for confusion, “Yes, I believe you two know each other? He’s mentioned you before. I’ll ask him later!” she beamed, “Please, pick whatever you’d like from the menu! It’s all on the house for my baby’s friends!” She winked, and you managed a nervous smile while Grim cheered. You shakingly pointed out a few foods, and she whisked off to the kitchen in a stream of bubbles.

A few minutes later, she walked back with way more plates than you ordered, and sat down next to you. Even after you asked if she’d like any food, she refused, and simply said “I just want to talk with you! I’ve heard a lot about you~” That made you nervous, but you complied. After the first few minutes, you relaxed a bit, and made easy conversation with her. Even Grim seemed more carefree, after inhaling about five plates of Coral Sea tuna, which she herself made, to your surprise.. Azul definitely got his conversational ability from her, you thought. While Azul used his chattiness to talk people into a contract, his mother used it for hospitality. It was no wonder the original Mostro Lounge was a hit - it was all because of her ability, inside the kitchen and out. This was nice, you thought tenderly.

“It’s good to hear that my baby’s doing well,” she hummed. “I’m glad he has some land friends. I sometimes worry he works too hard,” she chuckled, reminiscent. “You know, he’s always had a hard time opening up to others, outside of the Leech brothers. He’s always had his head in his contracts, he certainly got that from my husband. I’m glad he’s opened up a bit more. I’m glad he has you,” she smiled gently. You felt a bundle of nerves well up inside you, but you simply nodded. “Y-yeah…”

“Well! If you’re finished with your food, then it’s time for dessert!” In a blink of an eye, she swept up the plates with her tentacles and rose from the chair, winking. “I know just the thing! Wait here.” You tried to protest, but she left too quickly. Grim hummed happily while you slunk down in your seat. Azul has a hard time opening up. Was the contract… his way of doing that? I didn’t even hear him out… “Grim,” you asked quietly, “was I too harsh on Azul?” Grim looked up, pondering. “Nya? Henchhuman, you can’t be havin’ second thoughts! Not after you took my tuna away for three months!” You pursed your lips, but started when you heard your name.

“Prefect?!” You snapped up, wide eyed and staring at… “Azul?!” But… not Azul?

There was the housewarden himself, but not in human form. His merform. You were reminded of his overblot form, but that paled in comparison to now. Azul’s tentacles were longer, even longer than Jade and Floyd’s full merforms. His skin was a light lavender, wait he has abs? and the majority of his body was a smooth, inky black that shimmered mesmerizingly in the ocean light. His eyes and hair were a lovely light blue, but now he looked very panicked at you seeing his true self.

“You- you’re-!” Azul shut his eyes tightly, this isn’t happening please not them too, “Prefect please don’t ever mention this, I swear I’ll give you whatever-!” “You’re beautiful,” you gasped in awe. Azul’s eyes widened, and a deep purple blush spread on his face. “Why- you-!” Suddenly you realized where you were, and scrambled for an explanation while Grim zeroed in on the dessert Azul was holding, “I- we’re here because of Trein’s project, and-!” “Hey Azul, gimme that!”

While Grim dug into the dessert, Azul held his head in his hands, sitting next to you, tentacles curling in on themselves as if to make him smaller. You swished your legs around awkwardly, before saying quietly, “I had no idea you’d be here. I… Why are you here? It’s not a holiday.” “I… went to visit my stepfather for advise on the Lounge. I had permission from the headmaster,” he said finally. “I stopped here to see my mother, and you could imagine my surprise when she said a human student was here,” he chuckled humorlessly. “She told me to bring them dessert, and shoved me out the kitchen. It never crossed my mind it was you.”

You bit your lip and looked away. This was the first time you and him were speaking since that failed dinner. “…I’m sorry,” you said finally. “What I said to you in the Lounge was awful, and-”

“No, in hindsight your reaction was… reasonable,” he said to your surprise, “I admit that my methods weren’t… the best,” he said, as if saying that hurt him. Which you supposed it did - Azul didn’t take failure well. And why would he? When he worked so hard to get where he was?

Grim burped, sighing contentedly while Azul’s mother bustled out of the kitchen. “Zuzu! You found your friend!” Azul flinched at the nickname, blushing again, “Mama, please-” “No! I’m sure poor (name) has been sitting here long enough! Why don’t you two take a little swim, hm?” She wrapped a tentacle around your torsos and shoved you gently out the entrance, smiling pointedly at her son. “I’ll take care of Grimmy, you enjoy yourselves!” Grim yowled in protest, but as she turned, you saw her offering a dessert to pacify him. Old habits die hard, you supposed.

By now, the sun was setting, and the ocean was warmed to a pleasant orange. Your hair swayed gently in the current, and you followed Azul along a path. You both stopped on a high rock and sat down, dangling your lower limbs over the ledge. He hadn’t said a word the entire time. You stared into the distance, “Azul, why did you want me to sign that contract?”

He was quiet. “I told you, I wanted you to be my partner.” He hugged his arms as if to shield himself, “You made it quite clear you didn’t want me. And I’ll respect your choice. You won’t hear a word from me or the twins. I promise.” You bit your lip, “you really meant it?” His eyes widened. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He refused to meet your eyes, but if he did he’d see a smile grow on your face. “You… you didn’t want Ramshackle? Or to… I dunno, get back at me?” “...No. I truly didn’t. I… I really did just want you.” I do want you.

You nudged him gently, “Even against your own better judgement?” you asked jokingly, but he didn’t pick it up. He felt his eyes sting, “I didn’t mean to say that. I panicked and I… even if we…” he swallowed thickly, “I don’t regret falling for you. Even if…” he trailed off, but you felt your heart melt.

“I do foolish things around you,” he whispered. “It’s like all my years of negotiating is gone. But I didn’t want to make you be with me. I wanted you to want to be with me.”

Oh. Oh. Suddenly the jittery feeling you’d had during the dinner came back full-force. “Hey, Azul?” you asked with newfound courage, fueled by adrenaline alone. “You know… you don’t have to make me be with you.” He peeked at you from behind his bangs, eyes wide. Your face started feeling hot, but you grabbed his hand, “I want to be with you too. In every form.”

You didn’t know when you started moving closer to Azul, but right then he dipped his head toward you. His lips captured yours, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly as if trying to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. Immediately your hands cupped his face, and your legs tangled with his limbs. At last, you both pulled away, panting. You were smiling so hard your cheeks began aching.

“Guess I came around in the end, huh?” “Well, my business judgement is always sound, angelfish,” he said smugly, but you weren’t fooled. “You talk to much, Azul,” you giggled, pulling him in for another kiss.

What a memorable trip to the Coral Sea.

~END

Notes: spot the spy x family reference lmao. Also, the blue rose signifies secrecy, pride, admiration, and unrequited love! Ngl i had fun writing this, it was so cathartic to write, but this was my longest fic yet holy shit

For the dinner scene this is what I imagined

You: *yelling at Azul during dinner*

Tweels, peeking from the kitchen and eating popcorn, watching it like a telenovela: damn

Anyway!! Thank you so much for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

Taglist: @cerisescherries, @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee , @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound, @sad-sie, @moyo5653

(If your user is in bold, it means I wasn’t able to tag you properly 😅)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst Pride and prejudice au #twst azul #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst #azul x reader #twst grim #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #twst azul ashengrotto #mama ashengrotto #mostro lounge #twst yuu #calcified writing

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ms-oswald · 6 months ago

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homesick | chapter two

author's note: aaaand chapter two is here! another long one (sorry, not sorry lol). 18+ MDNI. Sending all my love to @persephones-journey, thank yoou for being my second pair of eyes! ❤️ banner credit to @arcielee 💜 Lots of love & stay safe 💕

“Kára?”

The roughness of battle suddenly vanished, the sight of an old friend gracing relief into his muscles.

“If it isn’t my favorite Irishman.” A grin stretched into her cheeks, light steps pushing her to him as he got up from his seat and met her halfway, the alehouse rowdy and curious as eyes peered over to them.

“Who is the woman?” The youngest of Uhtred’s men, a gentle monk, leaned closer to his friends as he whispered while his view remained on the couple.

“She is one of Ragnar’s men.” Uhtred had taken the lead on answering, his own blue hues set on them. “A seafarer.” A slight smirk had crossed the side of his lips as well, a sense of contentment at seeing his closest friend ease a little; Finan had reached out for her, gingerly holding her hand with their fingertips timidly tied together as they laid above the ground.

She noticed a tired look in his eyes; she placed her other hand to his cheek, stroking his skin tenderly before pulling him away and out of the alehouse.

A few feet away, settling in a calmer air, he looked back at her. Though his heart swelled to her presence, he remained curious – and partly hopeful. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you not happy to see me?” She teased, bumping his shoulder and catching a glimpse of his chuckle. She proceeded, her lighter tone softening. “I heard about what happened with the brothers... I came to see if you had survived.”

He sighed, a grim look flashing across his irises; even in the dim light around them, she could see something was not right. There was anger, fear, grief – exhaustion. He wore them heavy on his shoulders and her heart broke.

“How long are ya here for?” He had taken the smallest of steps, head down as he held her hand again, suddenly needy for her touch. It had been some years since they last saw each other – since she had left after helping Ragnar defeat Kjartan. He had mourned her departure once, and knew it were to happen again as she was a fleeting form, a nomadic essence that was never meant to be rooted into the ground, her breath wedded to the sea.

And so, his inquiry would need to become an iterant quest for their time to come.

She placed her hand to his cheek. “I can stay for a couple of nights, leave the day after tomorrow...” She softly replied, worry etched onto the creases above her brows.

He leaned into her touch, kissing the heel of her palm as he exhaled a faint smile of gratitude.

She then pulled him out of his thoughts, her fingers playfully rubbing at his shaven scalp while taunting him with an exaggerated disapproving look. “What am I supposed to grab onto now?”

A low laughter rippled from beneath his chest, an easy beam glowing under moonlight.

He leaned towards her, whispering teasingly into her ear. “I don’t remember ya having any issues last time. I still have your nail marks on my back, Love.”

She bit her inner cheek, attempting to hide her blush, and slapped him on his chest playfully. “I guess you will have to refresh my memory.”

A chuckle rumbled the back of his throat as he kissed her cheek, reaching the corner of her lips.

He broke the embrace, locking eyes with her while she tiptoed around the arm ring he wore on his right side, her fingertips grazing gently over the piece of jewelry before they slithered down to his wrist and hand.

“Does Ragnar know you are here?”

She smirked. “Jealous now?” She bit her bottom lip, her head tilted sideways as faint mirth reached the green specks in her eyes. “As far as I know, he doesn’t.” She took a closer step, the tip of her boots touching his own, and lifted herself on her toes, hovering over his breath. “Like I said, I was just passing through to see you.” She eyed him intently, adding jest into her words. “It would have been devastating losing out on such a good friend.” She tapped his chest to her last words, and lingered.

He grabbed the hand that rested on him as he spoke. “A friend or a hump?”

She extended her play, pretending to think seriously over her answer as she pursed her lips. It earned her another of his infamous smirk, the creases to his cheeks welcomed.

She sobered up, nodding curtly. “Both.”

Another vibration across his lungs, a gentle chortle escaped him as he shook his head. “It’s really good to see you.”

“And darling, it is good to be seen!” She took his hand and tugged him her way. “Now lead me to your home. I am exhausted and need a bed!”

“Alright, alright.” The crinkle to his cheeks remained with his grin unwavering to her presence. He pulled her the opposite way, the couple scurrying away from the lights and from the dwindling drunken people as he led her to his place.

It was a quaint home, comfortable enough to house one person.

She walked around, glancing to every corner of the open space, taking in the sight while he stayed behind to lock his door.

He then turned and silently watched her, trying to catch her in the dim light peering through his windows.

A mind of its own, his body moved forward, his feet marching towards her until he stood behind her. She sensed him and smiled as his arms slid around her stomach, pulling her firmly against his chest.

She closed her eyes and fell into his embrace, the tip of his nose stroking her temple into her hair as he inhaled; the faint scent of salty waters sent shivers down his spine, the bittersweet aroma curling into the pit of his stomach as he tightened his hold around her. He trailed down behind her ear and her neck, taking in her presence by way of his other senses, un-relying on his sight as his shut hues stayed in the dark.

Her breathing steadily grew heavier to the feel of his caress traipsing down her stomach. He quietly reached the laces of her trousers, swiftly undoing them before his fingers slipped underneath the fabric.

She sighed, her head falling backward against his shoulder. She then tilted to the right, hugging his arm with her teeth grazing the muscles; her mouth was slightly parted in pleasure, the dexterous fingers toying with her wantonly.

“I missed ya...” He breathed, air fanning over her blushing cheek. “I missed having ya around.”

She tried to regain her composure, her hazels catching the shy glimmer of the moonlight onto the floor.

She huffed a smile, a lopsided curve etched into a smirk. “As a friend, or a hump?” She called back, playing.

He took a moment, following into her footstep as he teased her; a slight pressure to his grasp, he heard the faintest of whimper before answering, the cheeky grin smug behind her.

“Both.”

The skin of his teeth scratched her earlobe, an overlay to his ministrations as he listened to her soft panting, her chest heaving from the growing warmth underneath her breastbone.

She cursed under her breath, a strained giggle shaking her tongue at his answer before calling out for him.

“Finan...”

“Mhmm?” He mumbled, sweetly kissing the column of her neck.

“We’re in the dark...”

She attempted once again to gain control of herself, desperately wanting to focus on her thoughts.

He did not relent, purposely continuing with his diligent work. “I know.”

A faint titter tickled his ear. “Do you not want to look at me, is that it? Have I grown hideous since last we saw each other?” She patted his cheek, signaling him to stop. He breathed out as she turned in his arms, rolling her eyes in amusement at his inflated disappointing gaze. “We’ll have all night for some fun.”

She parted from his embrace with her arms stretched behind her back, a coy glimmer sparkling in her hues. “Come on, get a fire started – give me some heat, and when you are done, I’ll be ready and completely bare, waiting for you in your bed.”

He let a soft groan out and yanked her back into his arms before catching her lips into his own, granting himself a firm kiss – a tale for more, before once again pulling away.

He turned to his hearth while she moved to his bed and started to undress herself until she reached her shift. She left it on as she took a seat on the bed, waiting for Finan to join her.

Once he finished tending to his task, he turned to Kára and found her waiting for him.

“I thought you said ya’d be naked?” He bit his lip into a lopsided smirk, eyeing the way the thin material of her shirt proudly displayed her cleavage down to the way she had crossed her legs, purposely hiding herself away from him.

He swallowed the sudden saliva coating his inner cheeks, mouthwatering at the sight, body thrumming at the thought of what awaited him.

She stood up, hands behind her back as she glanced downwards at herself before lifting her head to him, a bold glimmer settling across her features, her silent invitation. “How about instead, I give you the joy of ripping this off of me. Have you work for it.”

“So thoughtful of ya.” He followed her pace, tagging along as he closed in the distance, teasing with a hand to his chest at pretend gratification. “I really appreciate it.”

He took one more step as she extended her hand towards him, grasping his shirt. He chased the motion and pulled her in his arms before tipping her way, ghosting his lips over hers until they firmly pressed.

He then cupped her cheeks, holding her gently as he deepened the caress. The strokes were gentle – sickeningly sweet to a roaming eye, as she sunk into the way the ale was coating his tongue; she had felt it heavy in the warmth of his breath, and how the taste lingered – bittersweet.

She let him hold on to her as she reached for the layers of clothes that covered him still; they only parted for the second she removed his shirt, the item thrown carelessly onto the ground before her arms rested back around his shoulders, searching for the delectable kiss in candlelight.

Catering to both their needs for closeness, he swiftly lifted her up, her legs encircling his waist as he moved them closer to his bed.

He lingered at the edge, simply standing as she held on for dear life, her nails softly digging into his jaw and cheeks.

Without letting her go, he eventually took his seat and settled her on his lap. He let himself fall within the warmth of her embrace, to the way she wrapped around him, seeking air from his lungs as he searched for peace. An urgent need rummaged into his chest, a shovel digging for anything but death and war – a lost treasure.

She felt a tightened hold about her waist, fingers clutching at the fabric of her shift; an unsettled feeling stroked beneath her breastbone as she pulled away, silently catching her breath.

“What’s wrong?” An affectionate touch spread across his cheeks as worry raised into the softened streams of her hazels.

“Nothing.” He breathed out, locking his gaze onto hers.

She pulled back and saw the lie trembling within the depth of his hues; they were at a standstill as she observed him.

He had tried to look away, a sudden shyness creeping up in the pit of his stomach but she stopped him, fingertips to his beard as she tilted forward and gently brushed her nose to his.

She gifted him a tender kiss and whispered closely, catching the glimmer of the hearth in his brown eyes.

“Finan... Let me take care of you.”

He could only stare at her, her words slowly settling within his teared down mind. He couldn’t muster a response, his only source of communication the careful gestures he bestowed upon her form.

She slowly pushed him to lie down and hovered above him while still holding onto each other’s sight.

She took a moment, her nails lightly grazing at his beard. She wore a simple smile, a small pull from the corner of her lips as she lowered herself towards him. Another kiss across the pink of his skin, he kept her unmoving as he caught her with his arms around her body, hands slipping down her back. She teased him, faintly rolling her hips and earned a muffled grunt from the back of his throat; she repeated the movement once again, the pressure tightening between her thighs.

She then hid her face in his neck, keeping up with her pampered touch as she found the ties of his pants.

Feeling the slip of her hand between their bodies, he helped her undress him by kicking off his boots and pulling down his trousers. She was slowly slithering down, mouth to skin as she trailed pecks down his chest. She discarded his last piece of clothing, finding herself at the edge of his bed.

He waited for the mattress to dip again, his eyes to the ceiling before he leaned on his elbows and watched her stare back at him. She was biting down her inner lip and took a moment as she reached for her shift, removing it and baring herself in front of him as he was.

He sat up, drawn forward by his own enthrallment, his breath stuck within the confines of his lungs.

He stretched his arm, grabbing her fingertips and tugged her his way until she stood between his legs. She looked down at the way his beard scratched her stomach as he pressed soft kisses to her flesh. She bit down her bottom lip, hands holding the back of his head while feeling his own trailing down her back to her cheeks and thighs.

He inhaled deeply, the subtle scent coating her skin sweetly intoxicating him, lulling him further into distraction.

She caught his attention as she slowly pulled away from his squeeze. He raised his head to her, his gaze shadowing her movement as she lowered herself to the ground.

A shaky breath escaped his parted mouth, titillated by the way she presented herself to him; her palms rubbed against his thighs as she kneeled before him, her chin upwards. He glanced down at the swell of her breasts before meeting her eyes, enraptured by the honeyed glow of her irises, the darken room inexistent under her colors.

His stare was unbendable as he intently watched her with a dry throat.

A violent groan rasped passed his lips, his head tilted back as he gripped his sheets. He cursed, his lungs tied to the weight in his chest, with her name slipping in a strained echo within the walls of his rooms.

She anchored herself with her nails carved into his hips, the ploy performed by her tongue seducing gluttonous breath out of his slacked jaw, his whimpered string of profanities – a sweet melody to her ears.

Enraptured by the way she suctioned her cheeks, keeping him wet and warm, he grabbed her curls, forcing dishevelment amongst her braids as he tensed, his head falling back in pure pleasure.

He was tied down by her chords, sinful vibrations passing through her swollen lips as her own carnal ache thrummed between her thighs. She became a prayer intertwined into his marrow, her name smothered under tantalizing heat.

She sought his pleasure continuously, unrelenting as every twist and twirl of her tongue, the sliver of graze from her teeth, earned her grunted blasphemies from his mouth, hisses and hitched exhales into the thick air around them.

Ignoring the simmering bruises to her knees, she felt him tense, his grip tightening as he looked down, his hues struck by her wanton teasing; he let go, submerged under ecstasy as a hefty exhalation rapidly escaped his lungs.

He fell back onto the bed, catching his breath while running a hand down his flushed face.

He felt her slip away and shifted his gaze to her climbing back onto the mattress, finding her seat as she straddled his lap. She kept her eyes on him, cleaning the corners of her mouth with her fingertips. He sat back up, arms snaked around her waist while closely watching the way she licked her lips, a silent swallow gracing her ears.

He quickly claimed her reddened flesh, latching on lustfully. She felt him twitch underneath her, the taste of himself across her tongue igniting his desire anew.

He engulfed her breath, holding hostage every drop of her taste for his own, a primal need that burned within his very core and kept her slightly lightheaded while still grounding her to his strokes.

His hands slithered to her back, pushing her firmly with her breasts in heated friction against his chest; a muffled moan slipped away from her, the contact enticing as it burrowed into the pit of her stomach, forcing a clench between her legs.

She barely broke away from him as she slid her right arm down his stomach to their joint hips. A light gasp fanned across her swollen lips as he felt her gently stroke him while she leaned on her bruised knees, high enough to graze herself against him.

Mouth ajar, a strained moan fumbled at the back of her throat, the teasing touch causing shivers to violently scrape her bare skin. The thicker the pressure at her hips, her head instinctively fell back,

She glanced down to catch him staring at her just as she slowly sunk onto him, the thickening pressure increasing at her hips and causing a twist in her voice as she called for him, cursing his name unabashedly.

He stilled, taking in the way unadulterated pleasure etched beautifully across her features, flushed and whimpering. His heartbeat deafening him to the sound of his own exhales, his body trembled under such weight, lechery at its finest in this night.

She settled back onto his lap, her bruised joints finding comfort resting on the sheets.

Hitched breath tickled his lips, warmth spread across a she took a moment of enjoyment, the feel to be back in his arms this way maddening.

He searched for her lips, capturing them then as she timidly tilted her hips. She listened to his panting, the stuttered groan grasping at his throat while he pressed her further against him, every piece of her fitting within him.

They took their time, the thrusts gentle as stolen kisses and rough skin strokes were in precedence; she needed his attention, to bask in thrill amidst the tragedy hanging above him, puppet strings cutting into his flesh.

She knew he was keeping it together for appearances – from the moment she greeted him this night, she could see a darken shadow suffocating him, drowning in eyes, his posture, his shoulders. The fury, grief and exhaustion were simple friends as they held hands.

The desire to digress from such gloomy depth and lure him into her arms, lovers delight seeping through careful gestures and sound; it was the soft call of his name, the gentle ‘Look at me’ from her lips to his, to the breathless ‘Touch me' as she guided his hands along her form, the heat in his palms raising her skin from her breasts down her waist, and down her back.

He continued of his own accord, carving her flesh into his creases, pleasure thriving beneath his fingertips.

She held his gaze in fervent strength, a lustre of vulnerability crossing over their bare flesh. They latched onto one another, the ombre swirling between her brightened hazel to his darker hue; they were unrelenting, stubborn – a sliver of obsession, a shadow of possession, rooted into their frantic embrace, the tied threads simmering, humming to every thrust, every crescent, every drip sliding down limb to limb.

She slowly felt overpowered under the weight of his stare, her body trembling – resonating against his touch. Her pace quickened, the friction between their hips ceaseless, delectable. And she was cursing sweet nothings between their lips, the letters of his name sculpted into her chords, a lust-filled melody haunting his ears.

Overwhelmed, her head dropped backwards, her chest following as she anchored herself to him, her left arm grasping his shoulder while the other fell to his leg.

She stayed in his view, watching as she submerged under their pooling pleasure, seeking the rushed waves as adrenaline pumped through her veins.

He tightened his hold on her and swiftly pivoted, landing her on her back as he hovered over her.

She gasped, taken aback as he took over without interruption, the strokes consuming and hips rutting in greed.

He pressed his forehead to hers, warm breaths mingling in heavy steps as his hands wandered – a must – until their fingers interlaced. Comfort waved through, her surreal presence settling into his reality the way a breath of fresh air seeks lungs for nestling.

He hadn’t realized how much he had missed her – the sound of her voice singing into his ears, the softness of her skin rubbing lovingly against his calloused tone, the depth of her gaze always searching for his even under the cover of darkness.

He caught her lips, stealing kisses every chance he got as he still held her underneath him, hips bruising – yearning.

He was pursuing her shadow, despair clawing at him knowing she was a temporary presence; his muscles tensed as his mind dragged him back to their separated time. The sudden restlessness that was roaming in the pit of his stomach crept back ever so slowly, every moan rolling down her tongue a knock into reality.

She had become an unexpected presence in his life, an unintentional friend – an emblem to the freedom he had been given. She was entwined into the cracks of him, pulling him together into a state of perpetual hope, solace, forthcoming by her reappearances.

He savored the thrusts, the appetite euphoric with her clinging to him as if afraid to let go – the thought of parting from him, of losing his warmth as he filled her lasciviously left her delirious over the nights she had ached for him, over the years and oceans that separated them.

Her muffled moan snaked across his tongue, inciting a groan as he deepened their kiss, the brushes languid as his hand rested on her throat, thumb to chin as to tilt to the angle he wanted. He then trailed down her neck, swollen lips tender against her skin while the trim of his beard scratched her carelessly.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head while she tightened her legs around his hips, falling into an utter state of bliss. He felt her body quiver as her nails dug into his waist – shivers ran down his spine, his pace faltering until he slowed down and lingered, taking his time, relishing in the sweet ecstasy coating them longingly.

He lied on top of her, hiding in her neck while her breath lingered by his ear, her thighs lazily resting by his hips, caving under pressure, and her fingers grazing his back soothingly.

She inclined her head his way, closing her eyes for the moment as to enjoy the simplicity of their position – the way the weight of his body fit with ease over her own. She felt the press of his lips atop the glistened layer of her skin, a tender gesture he trailed along her shoulder.

Reaching the end, he pulled away and slowly slid to her left while she pulled the disheveled sheets and fur around them, the fire still bright as it heated his room. She then shifted in her seat as she stretched her legs, wanting to nestle closely to him. She laid on her back, his arm around her with her left elbow lazily bent, her fingertips feathers above him.

Finan could feel the heaviness on his shoulders partially drifting away, a faint sense of ease covering him; it was the pant heaving from her chest that soothed him, her presence an everlasting solace. He mindlessly played with her hair, fingers lumpish within the entangled locks while caressing her head.

He was staring at his ceiling, lost in thought while his exhales steadied, the rush of adrenaline dissipating into the beads of sweat across his bare flesh.

He felt her slip her fingers through his, silently searching for his hand to hold. He let her, his right arm following the movement as she brought his knuckles to her lips. He smiled, squeezing his hold on her and tilted slightly, his nose stroking her hair before kissing her sweetly.

She moved again, gently enough to press herself further to his waist. He set a soft breath out, a burgeoning need to never let her go settling into his core – despite knowing it was futile.

“Where are ya headed next?” The gruffness in his voice pulled her back to reality, his question a slight tug at her heart.

She sighed quietly, her gaze unfocused. “Irland... I owe my father a visit.” She started tracing patterns over his chest, pensive. “Have you ever thought of going back?

The silence was cut short, the minute dropping as he took his time to answer.

“I haven’t really... I don’t think I’ll ever see it again.”

She frowned and shifted to lean on her elbow, her eyes finding his. “Why not? It’s your home, is it not?” Genuine curiosity prickling at her brow.

He was caressing her arm, his right still placed around her as he moved his own left to rest behind his head. “Not anymore... Coccham is my home now.”

She took on the dramatics, an exaggerated groan shaking her tongue. “Ugh, but Irland is so much better!” She coaxed a smile out of him, her playful whining earning a soft laughter. He patted her arm and turned away, his hues facing the top of his home once again, the grin fading.

“There are days where I wonder about it, but... not enough to want to go back.” She listened, watching the somber expression heavy on his features. He tilted his eyes back to her once again. “There is nothing left there for me anymore. I was a warrior until I wasn’t.”

She lingered across the faint anguish coloring the depth of his browns; she could sense he wanted to change the subject, the dismissive tone laced in his lilt giving her a nudge.

A weak bite into her inner lip, he moved to stroke her cheek, sweeping strands away to rest behind her ear. She slid closer to him, hovering above and leaned down to share the tender kiss – a moment of peace passing through them, her questioning of his motherland turning to dust.

“What of ya?” He retraced her lips, his callused thumb enjoying the smoothness of her skin.

She puckered the muscles, pecking his touch quickly before following with an answer.

“My family may have settled there after leaving Norway, but Irland is not my home. And Coccham is definitely not it either.”

He chuckled, his arm falling down as she leaned on her elbow once more. “I have never truly thought of it, really. A home... I just know I never was one for land, and farming and everything in between.”

Restless, she switched positions again, lying back down as Finan followed, facing her while she took her turn to gaze upwards.

Her words dug from the underground an inaudible inquiry – an opaque wondering, a glimpse into a scenario that could never be, a drawing settling into his mind for a split of a second.

“Ya never thought of settling down?” Kára was young, her future ahead of her – the smallest piece of his shadow pondered if she had even thought about such a path.

“I don’t think it was ever meant for me.” She turned her head to look at him, catching his stare as she responded, a layer of improbability stuck to the back of her throat. “I was born on a ship in the middle of nothing but water... and just maybe that is why I could never settle.” A lopsided grin, ever so timid, rose to her cheek. “Or at least that is what my father says of me – that I am a true seafarer. A true daughter of Njörd.”

“And what do you say of yourself?” He had moved his arm over her stomach, palm stroking her sweetly, warmth spreading to both bodies.

She contemplated, taking a moment before meeting him with a mischievous glint in her hazels.

“That this traveler needs to ride out the sea.”

He matched her smirk, his lips stretching as he teased. “I can help with that.”

She played along, expressing disbelief to his proposal. “I don’t think so. Your Irish waters are weak. I need something stronger-” Her tone dropped, seduction rising as it slipped down her tongue, warm breath tickling him. “-robust. Rough.”

He startled her, earning a squeal as he leaped to hover above her and pinning her arms above her head; a light laughter followed, amused by his sudden change in behavior.

He lowered closer to her, parting her thighs with his knee as he pressed himself against her breasts, re-awakening temptation into their midst. He trailed one hand down her form, resting it below her hips with his eyes never leaving hers as he took in the way her mouth parted, a hitched breath floating between them.

She arched her back slightly, a teasing gesture earning a bite from his lips, taunting her.

“We should prepare ya for a storm then.”

He spent the next morning with his head between her thighs, stirred by having woken up with her pressed comfortably against his chest.

It had followed with a slow roll out of bed, Kára pushing Finan to break his fast while she had remained distant, her own plans in their finishing touches.

She then walked to the great hall, finding him sitting with Uhtred and Gisela, calmly chatting with their plates and cups slowly emptying.

She took her place behind her friend and placed her hands on his shoulders as she tilted her head towards Uhtred.

“I am taking him for the day.” The tone had been set as an order more than it was a request.

Gisela quietly chuckled, her eyes falling to her husband as he stared back at the newcomer dumbfounded. He then glanced to Finan, the Irishman shrugging his shoulders as he waited for a response.

Uhtred simply nodded, nudging his head for the young man to go – speechless.

A satisfied grin on her face, Kára took his hand as he got up, and walked out. As she reached the entrance, she quickly turned back and shouted.

“Oh, and don’t expect him until sundown!”

Without letting room for protest, she pivoted and led Finan away, both bodies walking towards the stables.

“Where are we going?” He was puzzled, curiosity set in his brows as he let her lead the way, his arms tensed from her pull.

She pivoted her head to him, a teasing smirk cornering her lips. “You’ll see.”

He found two horses with their saddles on, bags, furs and blankets tied to each of them. He stilled and watched as she continued, quietly greeting them with gentle petting before grasping at their reins and tugging them back his way.

She handed him his own, a spark of excitement floating across the green of her eyes. “Ready?” An instinctive smile stretched into his cheeks as he nodded. “Ready.”

Climbing on and riding away, she led the march out of Coccham and into the woods with Finan trailing by her side.

He had remained quiet for a few minutes, waiting to see if she would reveal the secrecy she was withholding; she noticed the stolen glances from the corner of her eyes and smirked, amused by the way intrigue prickled at the furrow brow atop him.

“You’re staring.”

“Ya are kidnapping me.”

She turned his way, her grin still apparent. “It’s not kidnapping when you will be returning later.”

He matched her smile and shook his head as he shifted his gaze back to the road ahead of them. “Where are ya bringing me?”

“You’ll see.” He could hear the mischievous intonation in her words, stretching wider the beam dimpling into his cheeks.

He glanced back towards her, catching the glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “A woman of mysteries.”

“That is my charm, Irishman.”

He chuckled at her response and continued the ride, light jests shared between them.

They eventually then made their stop, Kára halting her horse after the hour had dropped; Finan followed, both bodies climbing down their horses before they continued on foot while still holding onto the reins.

She took the lead once again, carefully walking through a dampen cave passage, the sound of water echoing all around them.

To the other side, the area seemed to have been secluded from the rest of the world. The indistinct sound of insects chirping rallied as they hid within the foliage, the trees framing the scenery as they reflected across the serene creek, its rhythmic voice setting the tranquil atmosphere. The mixture of rocks and boulders were comfortable within and around the body of water, the trunks of weeping willows, birch and elms closed in around them, cutting off outside pollution.

Finan stood breathless as he took in the lush greenery blinding his gaze.

Kára let him be as she continued down her path, carefully guiding her horse to the willow a few feet away.

“If ya wanted me by yourself, you could’ve said so.”

She tied the harness to a low branch before turning to face him, scoffing dramatically. “And be disturbed by Uhtred?” He had approached her close enough, she grasped at the collar of his armor and tugged him her way playfully, a sham of a threat gracing her features. “I’d rather kidnap you.”

He fell into step, adding theatrics of his own. “So, this is a kidnapping!” He then inclined her way with the tip of his nose grazing hers. “I knew it.”

She giggled at his antics and let him go, both turning around and undressing their horses as they removed the weight off their backs and placed them by the tree’s roots. She pulled a small bag of apples and dropped it at their feet, the fruits toppling over while Finan handled the blankets and the rest of the baggage.

She followed with the saddles, placing hers gently on the ground before moving onto the next one; just as she was untying the second seat, Finan grabbed her hand, pivoting her towards him. He placed a hand to her neck, thumb stroking her jawline, and tenderly kissed her lips.

Without pulling away, he mumbled a soft ‘thank you’ a timid smile gracing her view.

He reached for her loosened braid, her locks soft under his touch.

She watched him, attempting to capture a reaction as her heart squeezed. “Does it still bother you?” She still remembered the discomfort he felt the first time they sat close to each other, the day she had tended to his wounds, the breeze forcing him to breathe in the salt in her curls.

He noticed the quiet distress in her hazels. “It hasn’t been that long.” The faint uncertainty laced into her voice, the distant tremor of fear rooting her to the grass – a slight tug tore at the pit of his stomach.

He cupped her cheeks, another shared kiss in a try-out for reassurance.

It wasn’t enough to convince her.

Despite their physical closeness, a part of her hung onto the fear of being pushed away.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Finan. You can tell me.”

“I know. But I promise ya, I am not bothered by it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and clenched her jaw, holding onto the tears glazing the corners of her eyes.

Finan pulled on the tie keeping her hairdo together and watched as the ends detangled.

“Ya’ve got the sea air, and so every time I breathe it in, it will remind me of you.” He continued un-doing her braid, the strands flowing freely around her shoulder. “You’ve made it into something that doesn’t frighten me anymore.”

Her breath hitched, taken aback by his confession. She ignored the heat creeping up to her cheeks, her eyes struck by the way he was gazing at her, tender affection coated within his irises.

She bit her bottom lip, stifling a smile, and took a step backwards, breaking the embrace.

They kept their sight on each other, her smile widening as she kept her teeth to her pink skin.

“Rid of your clothes.” She ordered before she followed, kicking off her boots, removing her weapons and discarding her armor, her own wear falling atop the open blankets.

He peered closely her way, hues retracing the way she discarded her garments, from the way her trousers had swiftly dropped around her ankles to the way she pulled at the hem of her shirt, passing it over her head and throwing it.

She took a step towards the water, her back facing him with her hands reaching into her curls, finishing detangling her braids.

Feeling the heavy gaze, she turned to look at him, finding him leaning against the willow, arms crossed over his chest. She rolled her eyes, her grin dimpling into her burning cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Liar.”

She turned back, the hairdo gone and ruffled her roots, fingers scratching her scalp and easing their previous strain. She then dove into the water, disappearing from Finan’s sight for a moment, the quiet settling in for a short minute before she resurfaced.

He was still eyeing her, stare unwavering as they shadowed her every move – a complete state of limerence.

She swam around to face him. “Join me!”

“Is that an order?” He pulled away from the trunk and walked towards the edge of the water, untying his sword belt.

“I’m afraid it is.” He stared at the way the shivers covered her skin down her exposed breasts. Her arms were afloat, shaping the water by the sides of her body with her hair slick back and freshly damp. “Come on, the waters are freezing without you.”

He made a quick turnaround, removing his clothes and marching to her until he sunk to the water, continuing his way towards her.

They held their eyes to each other, her body dipping under the surface down her nose. He kept swimming until the creek reached his waist. Closing the distance separating them, she slowly stood up with her hazels stuck to his own gaze.

Hand to her cheek, she leaned into his touch as he stroked her skin. “Better?”

She nodded shamelessly, the corner of her lip caught between her teeth. “Much better.”

Her fingertips pressed delicately across his pink skin and trailed towards his toned chest and stomach, teasing the downwards motion to his hips.

She retraced the way his skin raised to her touch, watching as his muscles ticked under the tip of her nails, the tickling soothing to his limbs.

She kept going, arrowing downwards, eyes up to him.

He leaned his forehead against hers, mouth slightly parted as he thought of what to say – the flirtatious caress along his form was freeing, calming.

She was tending to his wounds – a silent promise to care for him, as she had done last night.

And as tempting as it was, he found himself only wanting to hold her, to indulge in the way her body would melt into his, arms holding her tight, and simply savor her presence.

He carefully took her wrist, stopping her from slipping past his hips under water.

“I don’t need... that. I just...” The low tone of his voice made her frown. She searched for his gaze, curious. He breathed out his last words, his shoulders depleting. “I just need you.”

An ache hid beneath the surface of his browns, an unfamiliar yearning – it was the simple need to be embraced without the shadow of carnal delight hanging above them.

She was his refuge to the storm that had numbed him, a shelter, a fire keeping the cold at bay.

She was unencumbered by the loss at Beamfleot, though still understood the woes of war.

“Alright.” The soft reply slipping from her lips, she shared the smallest of kisses on his cheek as she placed her arms on his shoulders, hands falling into the void behind them.

They shared an intimate breath, lips – feathers between one another, as they stood still, time halting by their side.

He held her by the waist, pulling her closer until they were flushed together, hiding in the crook of her neck. She closed her eyes, falling into the feel of him warmly pressing against her cold skin. He continued down her shoulder and trailed backwards until he kissed the spot right under her ear, gooseflesh running amuck.

The tranquility of their moment soon was interrupted – the horses pulling them out of their reverie, agitated.

Both turning their attention to the right, Finan instinctively pulled her nearer, acting as her shield as tension crept up across his limbs.

She eyed the area, glancing between the horses and the rustling sound coming from a few feet across them. Kára wasn’t frightened – had it been intruders, they would have shown themselves by now.

She shifted her eyes back to Finan, the man still seemingly on edge. “Finan. Look at me.” She forced him to pivot her way, hands to his cheeks as she caught his stare. “We’re safe.”

The distant bushes continued stirring until a fox slipped through the low branches.

The horses distanced themselves, slowly calming down just as Finan let out a breath of relief, his shoulders dropping.

Kára giggled, her head resting on his chest before she pulled away, smacking him with the surface of the creek.

She flickered water his way once again, pulling his attention away from the shore and back to her as she continued swimming away from his grasp.

He complied, catching up to her and quickly caught her back in his arms as he blocked her own, her back pressed against him.

The reverie had settled back in, bringing comfort to the two characters as she digressed reality into her back pocket, stretching the slumber for a few more moments with the laughter and antics simmering beneath the surface.

They hid under the shade of the weeping willow, sitting atop the blankets and fur she had brought from the village.

She laid her back against the trunk while he rested between her legs, head to her stomach with her knee bent over his shoulder, her bare feet enjoying the feel of the grass.

She ran her fingers through his shaved scalp, nails soothingly scratching random patterns as she tilted back, eyes closed, the warm breeze seeping through the bended branches.

It was midday and the sun hung high above them, warming bodies and lands as it lulled them into a state of bliss and comfort; the horses were resting, and the fox was asleep a few feet away from the couple, having searched for its own shade under the leaves.

Clothes were discarded, the use of blankets partially covering them; being the only two people in the world, decency had no pertinence.

They were quiet, the comfort of each other’s company enough to soothe any lingering worries away; Finan had slowly fallen into a light state of slumber, enjoying being in her arms.

Their moment of peace was then halted, a grumble disrupting them.

A light laughter slipped from her tongue soon after, realizing the origin of the noise.

“Is that the call for hunger or do we have another animal roaming about?”

She felt his body shake atop hers, his own mirth laced with her own as he placed his hands to his stomach and tilted his head upwards, attempting to catch a glance of her from the corner of his eyes. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Did ya bring anything for us to eat? Or is it all for the horses only?”

A soft giggle graced his ear as she leaned over, her palms sliding down his muscles. “I brought us some bread, nuts and fruits.” She placed her chin on his collarbone. “I couldn’t get away with the meat, so we will need to hunt.”

He hummed in response while pushing himself to sit upright and then reached for his trousers as she sat on her knees, hugging him once again, her arms wound around his shoulders. “How about I do the heavy lifting and you get started with the fire?” She kissed his cheek then trailed down to his neck as he leaned against her, instinctively smiling and agreeing to her proposal.

The campfire was bright, its hues in harmony to the sunbeams still bright above them.

Kára came back with small traps in both her hands, satisfied with her catch as she wore faint smudges of dirt across her face and arms.

Finan watched as she dangled their feast in front of him, a grin etched across his cheeks, amused by the spark in her steps.

The meat cooked, the fruits and nuts laid out, the bread fresh and in pieces – their meal were plenty, filling his appetite as the atmosphere dipped into light banter and jest.

Their little companion had found a seat next to Kára, silently sniffing and waiting to be fed; she obliged, splitting bits and pieces of the last remaining raw rabbit to give to the little one, the furry friend never leaving her side.

“I think he likes ya.” He stared at his friend’s new pet while nibbling on fruit, teasing laced in his vocals.

“He’s got good taste.” She turned to Finan, playfully winking while she petted the animal.

He chuckled and wrapped one arm around her shoulder, pulling her near as to lay a kiss to her temple before turning back to face the small fire.

She placed her head on his shoulder, the pet slithering its way to rest between her feet, quietly finishing its lunch.

She sensed Finan sobering up, his silence suddenly suspenseful.

“Where did you go?” There was sliver of strain in her voice as she rested her chin on his shoulder, coaxing him to turn her way. She lifted her head, her fingers stroking his beard gently as he looked in her eyes, the glimmer of green shining under the sun.

He leaned against her, bumping the tip of his nose with hers before stealing a kiss, the humble gesture preparing his response.

“Nowhere near as interesting as your travels.”

She huffed a chuckle, noticing the subtle way he pushed for a new line of inquiry.

And she followed with no hesitation.

“Where are ya headed after Irland?”

They held each other’s eyes, a tenderness to the gaze as she caressed his cheek, the back of her knuckles soft against his beard.

“We’ll sail East… maybe visit the Greeks again, see what new treasures they’ve discovered.”

A small smile dimpled the left side of his cheek, tone low as he spoke, the spark in her honeyed stream conjuring curiosity. “Tell me more.”

She shared a quiet laugh, grasping the bottom lip between her teeth. “Where do you want me to start?”

She met his wishes, leading their talks as she reminisced of her past voyages, the trials and tribulations, the people she’s met to the lands she visited, down to her small crew – a group of seafarers just like herself, who craved the taste of adventure and thrived amongst the seas.

He listened intently, observing the way her lips curved in excitement, her cheeks dimpling into a brightened smile, to the way the glint in her hazels lured him in, enthralled by her exuberance. She spoke with a light step in her voice, a silent promise she made to herself, to share her discoveries with him, to gift him the pleasures of such a life by her side, to present the wonders right at his feet.

Her words hung to his ears, thrumming within his core and aching – ambivalence settled beneath his breastbone, a bittersweet taste coating his marrow into a state of admiration; his heart slipping down his sleeve, every tug shadowed her spoken syllables, its pulsation reverence and cowardice.

An invisible thread pulled him further towards her, enraptured by her presence – an aura exquisite under the timid sun beams.

“You should see the world…”

They had moved to lie on the ground, side by side as she had shifted her gaze, looking up while Finan glanced between the open air above him, to his left with his hues taking her in, the glow of the afternoon seeping through the tree leaves.

She turned her head to him as she spoke, catching his eyes. “This doesn't have to be your life, you know. There are beautiful lands out there that are worth more than this entire country…” She bit her inner lip, teeth digging into the soft tissue in hope. “You should join me, come see it with me.” Her tone softened, serenating as she leaned closer to him. “Let me take you to see the world, Finan.” She turned, pushing her weight to hover above him, her elbow taking the pressure and facing him as she caught the hint of a smile appearing across his lips. “Leave Wessex behind, and come with me. No more battle, no more war, just food and drinks and women until you are blue in the face.”

He let a chuckle rumble down his tongue, a pensive gaze stitched over his brow as he stared back to foliage above him.

The moment seemed to have stopped – even though it had been short, it felt to have dragged itself through the mud, a disappointment that had been both forthcoming and yet still heartbreaking.

She sighed, not withholding her displeasure. “Uhtred it is then…” She sat up, arms wrapped around her bent knees.

Finan quickly followed her, his shoulder to her blade. “Kára-”

“It’s alright. I figured as much…” She tilted her head towards him, chin grazing her shift. Her eyes were cast downwards, giving herself a quiet exhale before meeting him, the faint saddened gaze imbued into her greens. “At least you are giving me a reason to come back.” She wore her lopsided smile, crafting an exit to their path.

“I’m touched.” He kissed her, lips pressed to shoulder, a smirk hiding behind the gesture.

She rolled her eyes, unable to stop her own grin.

She then inclined his way, kissing him softly, and lingered before resting her forehead to his.

He noticed the change in her demeanor, sensing her frown as if in thought.

“What’s wrong?”

She pulled away, meeting his gaze once more as she caressed his cheek. “When I didn’t find the brothers in Frankia… I knew something was wrong.”

He leaned into her touch, in awe. “Ya came back for that?”

She nodded, her hand patting him playfully. “I needed to make sure ya Irish arse was still breathing.”

She mimicked his lilt, brewing a chortle from his lungs; she hid away her worry, the mere drop of imagining such loss weighing on her shoulders.

They had gone the rest of the day with light jest and quips, bringing back the needed distraction into their midst; she pulled him back into the water, having quickly discarded of her shirt before pulling down his trousers and dragging him away from their burned-out campfire.

The fox had gone and the horses rested still, nibbling at whatever fruit and greens laid at their hooves.

Only the light laughter – the teasing plays and childish bantering had coated the breeze within this small place, the drops of water from the stream fall, to the music of insects adding layers to their afternoon.

He woke up in a frantic state, startled as sweat hugged his skin.

He was catching his breath, attempting to recuperate as he took a moment to absorb his surrounding; the darkness of the night silently greeted him, the hearth’s embers becoming but decor in this time.

Sitting up, he rubbed his face and ran his hand across his shortened hair, anxiety crippling under his chest as it pierced through his lungs, palpitations heavy.

He didn’t feel the bed dipping behind him – it was the soft call of his name that pulled him away from his anguish.

“Finan?”

She slipped her arms around his shoulders as she sat up, and felt the slight sweat slipping off his back along the tension in his muscles. “Nightmare?”

“Mhmm.”

She pressed her nose against his cheek and wound her arms closer. “You are safe, Finan.” She whispered soothingly as she turned his head her way, catching his tired gaze. “You are well, and you are safe.”

He leaned back against her, closing his eyes and listening to her words, his breath steadying.

She helped him shift his focus to her touch, to the warmth spreading from her body with her hand placed on his chest, guiding his lungs as she controlled his exhales.

He tilted his head further towards her, stealing a soft kiss before breaking away, resting over her brow.

She stopped speaking and breathed with him, caressing his chest gingerly – lovingly.

The minute had passed, her own worries draping over her.

“Finan...” He met her eyes, noting the slight frown she carried. “What happened with the brothers? Why the strain?”

He hesitated, looking away and in front of him.

She pulled him back in, finding a seat next to him while taking her hand into his, resting them on her lap, the other stroking his beard.

The longer he held her gaze, the comfort of her touch – he found a slither of courage reaching the surface; it was slow, but the words slipped out of his tongue, shaking the ground as he counted the events of the battle of Beamfleot, shivers scurrying across his skin.

To the death of Clapa, Kára teared up, having grown fond of the gentle giant.

Her heart broke, Finan’s tale and state wrenching anguish into her bones.

His confession brought her closer, the bewilderment sitting atop him – puzzled by why this battle was tearing him apart.

“Some are harder than others. Especially when you were close to death...”

There was a light tremble to her last word. He turned to her, detecting the glimmer in her eyes, the tear drowning her hues. “You almost died. You lost a dear friend- the night in itself... It was a disaster.”

She took a deep breath, pivoting away from his gaze. She instead moved, resting her head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand in hers, a self-reassurance of his presence by her side.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, both of them sitting in silence for the moment that passed.

“There is nothing but death and war...”

The sober tone in his voice sent chills down her spine. She felt the break in his heart and carried it as she turned back to him.

“Penance for being a warrior, I’m afraid.”

She leaned in, stroked his cheek once more before gently pecking his lips. She then pulled away and silently invited him back to bed, the sheets covering them comfortably.

He buried his face against her chest, letting her chin rest on his head as her leg wrapped around him, her arms encircling his shoulders – a shield. She raked her fingers against the back of his scalp, her nails soothingly scratching while he breathed in deeply, pushing himself flush against her.

He found refuge across her collarbone and down her breasts, his lips seeking her bare flesh. He tugged her closer, every empty inch vanishing as limbs molded, a sculpture forming under nightlight.

She sighed, the weight of his body demulcent as he moved her to lie on her back, sensing an urgent longing in his strokes, his fingers bruising her.

She cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her, eyes meeting in the dark. She shared a small smile – a silent promise of reassurance, before gifting him a gentle kiss. He slowed down, resting his forehead on hers as a shaky breath escaped him, fanning timidly over her parted mouth. She swallowed, capturing his lips with her own and taking the lead in the lingering gesture while he settled between her legs.

She wanted to give him the distraction he was craving, to create disassociation, to care for the present moment only – to fuck and forget for the few remaining hours they had left.

To use her and relent all worries – to escape and drown under carnal desires, to lean on a primal need; to cope and pursue the physical pleasure instead.

He did not let her go, tongue stroking hers while she felt his palms down her waist, raising her skin, until they rested on her thighs and parted them further. He then pulled away, trailing wet kisses down her stomach until he reached her hips.

She arched her back, her fingers gripping at her pillow above her head as a strained moan vibrated passed her slacked jaw.

She closed her eyes, ripping at the fabric of the sheets as he consumed her – a glutton.

He held her down, toying with her pearl while his ears listened to the sighs he coaxed, her chords becoming an exhilarating rush quivering down to his core. He thrived; the distant call of his name, the way she was begging for more, pleading for release.

She cursed, an annoyed groan slipping out of her, unable to grab onto his hair. Sensing what she was trying to do, her pleasure building in tandem with her frustration, he could only chuckle, the sound shaking beneath her hips. Hearing him, her huff turned into laughter – a small giggle running down her tongue as she made him pull away.

He caught her eyes and noticed how she quickly glanced at his beard, the taste of her fresh on his tongue.

She rolled her eyes, bumping her knee playfully against him. “Stop it- Just- Fuck, just come here.”

The smirk remained across his lips, complying to her demand. He crawled back towards her as she wrapped her arm around him, tugging him near until his breath ghosted over her. She wiped his beard lightly with her fingertips, licking her own lips before she kissed him, taking a lick of herself along her tongue. He groaned, trembling under his chest as she teased him, her calf firm onto his backside – luring him to nestle in the cradle of her hips, begging to be filled, to clench around him as he rutted into her; to have him bury himself inside her, ecstasy aflame, mindless.

He held onto her – his anchor, reclaiming her body as he gently rolled his hips, thrusting into her with careful movement.

He hid his face in her neck and deeply inhaled. The infusion of her scent – the hint of rosemary and thyme, the whiff of earthy aroma clashing with the sea salt overflowed his senses.

His grip of escape, the need for solace grew. He turned desperate the longer he remained between her thighs, pushing passed the anguish that lingered on his shoulders and making his sole purpose on this night to bring his lover to the brim of unadulterated bliss – to have her come undone once again under his touch.

The room filled with heavy breaths, dirty nothings and the continuous friction of skin to skin – limbs glistening under every dimpled mark of teeth and lips, and fingers, in a drunken haze as haste and frantic, and greed engulfed them.

Deception waited outside their door, counting down until it was time to part.

They stood by the entrance gates of the village, her horse by her side while her small group of men were exiting, ready to embark on their next journey after their short intermission.

He was holding her hand and gently tugged her in his arms as he spoke.

“Be safe. I beg ya.”

The soft pleading laced into his words had faintly pushed at her chest. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, and took a moment before pulling away.

She stretched her lips into a smirk. “Well, if you are begging...” He shook his head, amused by her cheeky reply.

She then leaned towards him once again, placing a tender kiss to his cheek as she whispered her promise into his ear – a swift shift to a tender and honest approach.

“Thank you for staying.”

“That is what friends are for.” The way her eyes settled across his own, an attempt to reassure him of her presence, the depth she would go to for him – a silent callout for the care she held for him.

He gave her a nod as a soft huff of a chuckle escaped him, his gaze shifting downwards. He ignored the slight twinge in his heart – her chosen words, a tremble to his core.

A faint ache buried under her chest as she watched him, her brows furrowed into concern.

“Are you going to be alright?”

He could hear it in her voice, the slight anxious inquiry; he dismissed it and gave her a soft smile as his lips stretched into the one side of his cheek. “Aye.”

One step forward and he pressed his forehead to hers.

He took a moment, eyes closed and breathed her in, hands to her cheeks as he carefully stroked her skin, the need to touch her, constant. She met him, her palms wrapped around his wrists as he placed his lips to her hairline.

She then kissed him, tilting her head slightly upwards until she reached him, the tender caress holding them close.

“Don’t miss me too much, Irishman.” She spoke between their breaths, a hint of mischief slipping across her tongue.

She noticed a slight spark across the brown of his eyes as a light chuckle tickled her ears; it had looked as if the storm had passed, its heaviness pushed into a distant horizon.

“I won’t if you don’t.”

She winked at him, giggling. “I’ll try then.”

She gave him one last kiss before she climbed onto her horse.

They bid each other another goodbye as he walked her to the other side of the gates.

Once they parted, the smile curved across his lips fell slowly until it disappeared, his heart faltering in its step as it tumbled over a lost footing.

--------

xoxo

taglist: @gemini-mama @iamfandomnerd @ladyinred2248 @gco95 @errruvande

#the last kingdom #finan #finan x oc #tlk fanfic #finan imagine #finan the agile #the last kingdom fanfic #finan fic #mark rowley #finan fanfic #tlk

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foxglovepng · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, first time requesting anything and I hope I do this right. I like what you've posted previously and I hope you enjoy this request idea.

I saw screenshots of a post recently about a TWST x Tinkerbell/Pirate Fairy event where shenanigans happens and everyone's UM's are switch around.

But what if Yuu got someone else's UM? Would they go power mad? OB by accident because they couldn't control the amount of magic? Just chill until the fairies corrected the switch? How would the owner of the UM deal with Yuu handling their power feel? And how would they feel about being magicless for the time being?

Suggested students are Grim, Azul, Jamil, Vil and Deuce, or anyone else you would prefer, all of them are fun options.

Hope you are doing well 💜

Characters: Idia, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Deuce, Jade, Malleus.

CW: Swearing, Probably an OOC Vil, Azul has a mental breakdown, Idia freaks out. SPOILERS FOR BOOK 6 (Idia), SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 (Malleus), Probably OOC most characters tbh.

A/N: I heavily loved this movie as a child and I still love it and watch it on occasion. I know this movie so well I can predict the dialogue :sob: I switched out Grim for Idia because I believe there is a mention that Grim had a curse in Book 6 (correct me if I am wrong) But it was while Idia was discussing some possible theories about the Overblots. Because I loved this movie so much and I am watching it as a I write I will be yapping...a lot. Like just yap yap yap yap and I will be making more parts to this because I have a lot of Ideas. I also added Malleus because he is the only one in Diasmonia with a confirmed/offical UM.

I will also be calling you the Fairy 🧚anon <3

Feel free to let me know which fairy(ies) are your favorite. I love Vidia and Fawn.

W/C: Didn't check Fox yaps a lot (2.540k, 7 pages)

NOT PROOFREAD

For context there will be a Mage like Zarina who was obviously an outcast and who was very innovative and wanted to discover new things (Such as the Fairy Dust) The way I imagine it the mage probably wanted to do things that were considered "Illegal" for Mage magic the NRC students ran into this person and they used their UM to switch the powers of students.

(Character's relationships can be read as platonic or romantic)

Deuce (Bet the Limit)

He is not worried. Although he'd be more concerned about Yuu accidentally using it mid class and hurting someone. His UM is mainly dependent on others attacks so I don't think there would be an issue about hurting someone deeply to the point of hospitalization.

He is worried about the fact he can't use magic anymore. He used his flaunt his magic a lot in middle school now he's not no power (Karma really came back for him didn't it)

If Yuu casually happens to get his ability to summon cauldrons it would be hilarious if Yuu dropped a cauldron "Accidentally" On Ace or Crowley's head. He'd feel bad, but It'd be funny.

(Insert video of Ace getting bashed in the head with a Cauldron but it's bad apple.)

He'd eventually adapt to losing his magic, but he does want to try and get it fixed.

He will help Yuu as much as he can with controlling his magic. If they have any questions he will gladly answer them and help to the best of his ability.

Yuu is least likely to go power mad due to Deuce's UM being low on the list for Powers that will make Yuu go bat-shit insane and commit world domination. (Yes I have an actual list)

When Yuu Overblots

He would probably cry like genuinely.

Yuu has gone through enough in TWST and when they finally snap he would be extremely worried for Yuu because he is scared they will get hurt badly/hurt others badly.

Deuce's UM is actually scary so when it comes to overblotting Yuu could hurt A LOT of people.

Riddle's UM won't be able to help and Yuu could just basically absorb every attack that hits them.

Yuu could probably kill someone with his power and that is a really scary though to think about.

(Deuce can too since it is quite his power)

On a skill level there is a possibility Yuu could lose control of the magic, on a power level they could injure a lot of people. Either way Yuu and other people will be getting hurt.

If they somehow stop Yuu's overblot GET THEM THERAPY INSTANTLY make Leona or someone else rich pay for it.

Deuce would look like a sad puppy because he just witnessed his friend he deeply cares about just snap. Probably wouldn't leave Yuu's side while they recover.

He probably feels the most guilty as he couldn't do anything and wished he could have helped more.

Peep Grim crying about his henchman.

If Yuu DOES kill someone um mage jail? or how would that work since they aren't from TWST would they like be in custody in their own world???? because quite literally they have no information on Yuu to send them to Mage Jail.

I'm done yapping moving on

Azul (It's a Deal)

Instant panic attack instantly.

Considering his backstory and why he is becoming a Mage he would definitely freak out over not having his powers. Bro needs his octopot.

When he learns it was Yuu who got his powers he would feel a bit more relieved

"Yuu can I have my powers back? just make a deal with me."

"HOW TF DO I DO THAT????"

Jade and Floyd are laughing their asses off when he tries to teach you how magic works. They are not going to do anything to help AT ALL.

Azul does NOT feel happy about being powerless at ALL. He has a business to keep running and Yuu is struggling.

I can imagine Yuu accidentally making a contract and stealing someone else's power and then having to keep THAT ONE under control.

Overall I feel like Azul makes top 5 of "Yuu will have a panic attack from being unable to control this power"

Azul would probably adjust to the change but he would not be happy with it at all.

There is a possibility Yuu could go power mad, but Azul is based on capitalism Yuu is not. They would probably only go power mad as a way for threatening/bargaining to go home.

When Yuu Overblots

Pray Yuu has the power under control

Azul's Overblot 2.0 except no tentacles

Azul tries to help the best he can and then gets blasted with magic right in the face. (L bozo)

When Yuu just snaps Azul wishes he could of down more, but he realizes he only was helping Yuu for himself. Not for them. They had to deal a lot and he probably was the one that broke the camels back for them to overblot.

On a skill level and Power level it would probably be the same as Azul's however Yuu has less control over the power.

Yuu is getting back for when he overblotted. /hj

When Yuu unoverblots Azul gives them an apology and also starts the process for them to see a therapist. Probably get's an earful from Deuce and Ace about pushing Yuu over the edge.

Jade (Shock The Heart)

Is not worried.

He doesn't need magic to intimidate people although he needs magic to obtain information.

"Oya? it appears the prefect has my power."

You know how Azul and Deuce would help? He wouldn't

When it comes to Jade's power it can easily be exploited to gain all kinds of information from someone and in the wrong hand's world domination can be caused.

Yuu gets help anyway from Tweedle Dee and Dum over at Heartslabyul.

Yuu would accidentally use Jade's power on people and would probably gain information they wouldn't want to know and probably has gotten traumatized.

Begs Jade to take his power back and he just giggles at Yuu. He is fine with not using Magic, but it is funny to see Yuu attempt to use his magic.

He's enjoying you struggle. However if it gets to a certain point he may help keyword may.

When Yuu overblots

No one is worried lmao.

I mean overblotting is bad, but Jade's power is like so??? normal?? that an overblot would be dangerous, but his conditions are it can only be used once so if Yuu acivates it they probably wouldn't be able to use it again.

hopefully..

If not they are royally fucked tbh.

Jade can't do anything at all and probably will get grilled later for not helping Yuu.

When they unoverblot Yuu Jade is the first one to get them to the infirmary carrying them bridal style (slay king) and making sure they recieve proper treatment. Also apologises for not helping them learn as he was worried they would go power mad.

Jamil (Snake Whisperer)

He is flipping out.

Number 1. Yuu just got this power and barely can control it IMAGINE WHAT COULD HAPPEN.

(Manipulate Crowley into sending them home)

Number 2. Jamil needs his magic and as Kalims retainer he needs it more than Yuu :sob:

Jamil is already stressed out with wrangling Kalim 24/7 now he has this on his hands. Bro just might overblot from stress.

Either way he helps Yuu with gaining control because Yuu almost made Ace choke on his food from accidentally using the UM. And almost made Jack run into a tree (It was funny actually)

We all know how Jamil's overblot turned out someone call up the Octotrio to deal with this again.

There is a possibility Yuu could go power mad. However Yuu is a sweetheart (possibly) and wouldn't control their friends.. right?

Jamil physically can't adjust to being magicless and tries to literally hunt the person down but fails miserably.

When Yuu overblots

I dare Yuu to throw everyone who's fighting so Jamil can get yeeted too (I'd be funny I swear)

Jamil overblot 2.0 except Yuu loses control and accidentally brainwashes everyone. whoops

Jamil got his Karma from brainwashing the whole dorm

Wait if he can brainwash the whole dorm could he brainwash all of NRC? 😨

When Yuu snaps Yuu is coming for everyone INCLUDING CROWLEY his ass is not getting saved.

I pray for everyone who is fighting Yuu. Compared to Deuce's though I'd rather get brainwashed tbh.

If Yuu somehow manages to get pulled out Kalim is making sure everyone who was affected is okay and Jamil is rushing Yuu to the infirmary. When Yuu snaps it would be dreadful tbh and I don't think people would make it out of this OB with Yuu unless they physically got hurt to the point of unconsciousness, or Malleus was like "No don't overblot you're too sexy aha".

Jamil also apologizes for not being able to do enough and makes sure Yuu sees a therapist.

Snake whisperer overblot Yuu and Bet the Limit overblot Yuu are genuinely scary and I'm terrified.

Vil (Fairest One of All)

Instant panic

Vil's UM is so powerful that when a curse is placed with conditions it cannot be lifted even with Vil's interference unless the conditions are met.

Imagine Yuu with that power. Crowley suddenly has a way for Yuu to get home.

Vil would be more concerned with his potato having a power they CANNOT control. Yuu will be accidentally placing curses on people.

Ace would suddenly get paralyzed from the neck down and Yuu didn't know how they did it.

Yuu accidentally paralyzing people is crazy.

Vil helps Yuu try to gain control of the power but has a really hard time.

This is another one where if Yuu were to overblot it would be because they accidentally use the UM too much and are stressed because of it.

Vil doesn't mind being magicless however do NOT let his father figure that out he might force Vil out of NRC into modeling.

When Yuu overblots

Uncontrolled curse magic with a stressed-out overblotting Yuu. Yeah this is up there with Bet the limit and Snake Whisperer.

Someone is probably dying.

Vil almost killed Neige for gods sake imagine what YUU COULD DO.

Vil tried to curse Yuu mid overblot but forgot he couldn't use magic.

Vil is actively sending Rook after the mage who switched powers. Vil wants his potato back.

If Yuu manages to snap out of an OB Vil is also the one making sure Yuu gets treatment. He will also pay for their therapy and treatments.

When Vil gets his hand on the mage she will not be existing anymore /hj

!!!SPOILERS FOR IDIA AND MALLEUS BELOW SPOILERS I REPEAT SPOILERS I SAID SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS!!!

You have been warned

Idia (Game, Set, Match)

Every time I say Yuu is terrifying with a certain OB It gets worse. (I should make a list tbh)

Idia is freaking the hell out. Probably has a panic attack but we aren't there yet.

Idia's UM literally control the gates to the underworld and basically keeps the blot monsters in and if Yuu accidentally opens that.

I pray for everyone's safety.

Idia has probably headed a warning about this and is actively hunting down the mage. Ortho is helping too.

This is one of those where I say Yuu should not have it because with one wrong move and hundreds if not thousands of people could get hurt.

Idia is panicking Yuu is panicking Ortho is trying to calm them down.

Yuu most likely overblots because Idia is freaking them out, and they don't want to open the gates to hell.

I wonder if one of his parents could also open and close the gate with their magic that will literally help.

When Yuu overblots

Run everyone the gates of hell opened again.

If I had a nickel for every time someone overblotted and opened the gates of hell I'd have two nickels. It's not a lot of nickels, but it is weird that it happened twice.

Idia is making sure the literal gates of hell did NOT open, and surely enough they did.

Crowley is probably getting sued

In Theory the battle could be easy however when it comes to the UM someone tell Yuu to close the gates.

Blot monster domination 2.0

Ortho manages to hunt the mage down, but only until after the overblot is over and the gates have opened.

Idia completely forgot about Yuu's condition so when they switched powers he was more focused on closing the gate. He got grilled for that by Ace and Deuce who carried Yuu to the nurses.

I feel like this one is scary but more in the sense that Yuu has the power to the hell world.

Malleus (Fae of Maleficence)

Do I even need to say how bad this would be?

I know damn well most of Diasmonia is tweaking that Waka Sama just lost his power.

When Malleus learns it's Yuu he's more worried about them being stressed out over this and tries to help them the best way he could and even gets Lilia in on it.

Malleus is one of the top 5 mages in the world Yuu is probably one panic attack away from overblotting and putting everyone's ass to sleep.

Malleus is also concerned about the possibility of an overblot so he is definitely trying to keep them from overblotting. Whatever his child of man needs he will snap his fingers and it's done.

Yuu wants a massage? Malleus will arrange that. Yuu needs food he will buy Yuu some. Yuu wants ice cream? He wants some too. Yuu wants a fucking break? He will threaten Crowley for one.

He understands the power that was given to Yuu is a lot handle and will accommodate his Child of man (They are getting married after this)

He is also sending Silver and Sebek after the mage and the mage may or may not be existing after he finds her.

When Yuu overblots

As of 2/26/24 not all of Diasmonia has been updated/finished so I have no information as to how it will end/ how his overblot will go. But let's just imagine it.

Malleus fell into a dream world where he got to be happy with his Child of Man. He is King, he has children, and he's with his Child of Man happily. :SOBBING:

When he get pulled out from the dream he's like why :( probably all pouty since it was a good dream. And then remembers Yuu overblotted and is like no my child of man.

He is the first one to instantly get Yuu help bro can't teleport, but he can run and if he can still turn into a dragon he can fly.

He apologizes to Yuu even though he did all he could he still feel like he could have done more. He gets Yuu all of the treatments they need instantly and when the mage switches back their powers she is deader than his Mom.

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bunnybbh · 4 months ago

Text

I was tagged by @kimkaitual and @baekslight to answer these questions !! Tysm you guys this was super fun to read through 💗💗💗💗

Last Song: Paper Love by Allie X!

Favorite Color: Pink !! 💗🎀🌸💕🍨💞 runner up is lilac for sure!

Last Book: Last one I read was The Female Painter in Victorian Literature by A. J. Losano but that's non fiction, it's been a while now but the last fiction novel I read was Spear by Nicola Griffith!

Last Movie: watched one of the Puss in Boots films, the one with the grim reaper wolf in it? It was pretty cute

Last TV Show: last ones I finished were Reverse 4 U (it's on Netflix and its suuuper cute, my fave gl rn for sure !!!) and Bed Friend, I'm watching Love in the Air again now 😂 just been watching Thai dramas a lot

Sweet / Savoury / Spicy: I love them all!! Probably sweet the most !

Relationship Status: single

Last Thing I Searched: was trying to Google if tumblr was down the other night because it was glitching so badly!

Current Obsession: the Thai dramas I guess lol? Loving Peat Wasuthorn 💗

Looking Forward To: gonna go see some friends on a weekend soon !! 💗💜

Favorite Drink: mocha, earl grey tea and taro boba !! I don't drink alcohol

Song Playing 24/7: been playing love surf by kep1er a lot! Also igloo by kiss of life and pretty much any song from Baekhyun's most recent album

Current Favorite Character: in love w yuna in semantic error dear god 😔💗💞💗💞

Fun Activity I'd Like to Get Into: wanna maybe start doing some ballet for fun! Wanna get back into sewing too I haven't done it in ages now I have so much fabric to use up !!

Last Video Game: I don't play video games really 🤷‍♀️

Last Comic: uhhhh snow fairy I think? I forget which mangaka was the creator but its super pretty and adorable! Wanna reread the Tokyo mew mew manga when I can get a chance I got the set recently !

Tagging: @yoonkyoong @cbxenjoyer @girlsgenerati0n @babyueare @milfbestie @parklunas @dazzlingkai

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idcfriend · 2 years ago

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I'm Back!!!

I absolutely love eldritch protagonist so...i have more eldritch yuu brainrot!🎉

...............................💜..............................

So at first glance yuu seems normal just a completely normal gender neutral individual but the more time people spend with them the mpre they notice that sometimes their smile is a bit roo wide....their teeth and fingers a bit too sharp....how they sometimes move as if It's not something there used to

On one occasion the idiot trio was being to loud in the morning and Yuu hadn't slept that well or at all really....that's when one of the others noticed how Yuu seemed too quiet...how they seemed stalk towards the unsuspecting trio as if they were prey soon when they were near they rose to their full height (and damn why hadn't any of them ever noticed how tall Yuu is!?) and with what could of mad even the bravest of men cower in a corner in fear....growled with bloodlust and a voice that of something from your worst nightmare( Yuu honestly doesn't know why everyone looked so scared when they after growled in frustration when Ace, Deuce and Grim were being too loud, they didn't think they were that scary...)

Another time Yuu was too tired to care much about anything much at the moment (unaware of the way that an uncanny air of apathy seemed to hang around them, like someone who was looking down on something that was simply lesser and they couldn't find in themselves to care one way or the other and settled on indifference) so the other first years decided to ask Yuu questions to see how much they could get them to answer in their sleep deprived state (jokes on them Yuu is a CHAOTIC MESS and simply bullshits their way through life when they don't sleep enough so their answers were...a little unsettling to some)

First question was from Ace: which was simple enough but-

"So prefect what's your favorite food?"

The others looked at Ace in mild surprise expecting him to ask something embarrassing

Ace looked at them in annoyance "What? Yoh have to build up this kind of stuff"

Yuu simply looked up from their desk and answered (sarcastically mind you it's just that for some reason their very good at acting?)

"the souls of those who have sinned far greater than any mortal and have seen that which should never be seen" and promptly face planted back on to the table

Meanwhile the others are a little unnerved by that answer and by the chorus of voices that seemed to answer with Yuu but only a little because this was THEIR prefect no matter how...not normal they were and they'd fight anyone who even looked at them wrong

Next was Deuce

"Favorite pass time?"

They braced themselves for the answer

"going on relaxing walks-" they looked at Yuu confused because that was such a...normal answer?

"-and putting the fears and horrors of others and the world on paper, eternally etched into a part of my collection" they then...relaxed? Because of course such a hobby would suit their eldritch friend (Yuu simply meant they like to draw horror stuff in one of their many sketch books)

Surprisingly Sebek went next

"how do you deal with those that harm the ones you protect?" he asked mostly to get more ideas on how to protect Malleus

At that they could feel the way the surrounding air around Yuu seemed to go eerily silent as they let out a growl that could of had mistaken for a beast

"You hunt them down one by one making them feel fear like no other, you hunt them like the measly wretched being they are and then I'd make them know pain, that which would be a thousand times that which they inflicted on those who are MINE" throughout all this Yuu's form began to change slightly their fingers becoming claws and gaining a black tinge that covered their entire hand, their teeth becoming as sharp as knives and a few other changes

Then Grim went up to Yuu and hugged them seemingly knowing why Yuu reacted so drastically

"Calm down henchman, no one's going to hurt us we're safe"

That seemed to calm them down as they looked up and chuckled a bit, "Sorry guys i over reacted a bit but-" Yuu said looking- well more like they were scanning them for any sign of harm, "no one's bothering you guys right?"

At that they seemed perk up as they smiled at Yuu

(Yuu was unaware that they had just implied that considered the first year group THEIRS, and they were also confused why everyone except those they knew gave them such a wide berth in the hallways for a while after)

...........................💜.............................

That's all i got for now! I know it doesn't really make much sense but i swear I'll elaborate more in the future! (hopefully) but there's another thing i wanted to add!!!

So I'm a fan of Technoblade and i like the idea of Eldritch Yuu having their own version of Chat! So like they'd give Yuu advice and help them in their chaotic shenanigans (while maybe purposefully making them seem even more like an Eldritch being because they crave misunderstanding content) So Yuu would have these gaggle of voices that would follow them around that every once in a while others can hear too (Yuu honestly isn't even fazed when all of sudden they have a bunch a sentient voices following them around that's how done they are with Crowley's and everyone's else's bullcrap)

So! I was thinking that certain comments and stuff left on the post i do of eldritch Yuu could be taken as Yuu's "chat"

#im making no sense #but im bored #i crave chaos #and sleep #hearing voices #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu #twst headcanons #twst mc #twst yuu #eldritch horror #eldritch reader #twst x reader #Yuu #Technoblade's chat

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grimjrfangirl · 1 month ago

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i love the next grime jr! Is she your oc?

I apologize for not having answered you 💜

Mmmm no she's not my Oc. But she is a character from the Webcomic: Grim Tales from Down Below, her name is Pink 🧁 and she's a somewhat nosy, kind and very curious Reaper Girl.

I love Grim Jr. He is reserved, kind, has a noble heart, brave, Junior can face to everyone else to protect his loved ones, his mother Mandy, despite her strong temper, he appreciates her, his father Grim, well Jr has a good relationship with him, but Grim Jr undoubtedly adores his godfather Nergal Jr: Since he sees him as his example to follow and hero.

Sometimes has differences with his half-sister: Minimandy, but still appreciates her very much. Of course I can't forget that Jr also loves Mimi Her, his sister Minnie's rival...

Additional fact: I came up with my nickname cuz: I'm a Grim Jr Fangirl, and Pink likes Junior.

💕✨️💕✨️💕✨️💕✨️💕✨️💕✨️💕✨️💕✨️💕

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ariadynamics · 1 year ago

Text

Once upon a time, I had this Maxiel WIP where Daniel wrote a tell-all book, but then I kind of forgot about it. Then I was thinking about what to write for @danifesting's tiny fic/holiday card, and suddenly I couldn't get that WIP out of my head.

I ended up writing a little more from that universe for Ali, and honestly, I think I actually want to flesh this out and write the full fic??? Anyway, for Ali, who is one of the best, kindest, most wonderful friends I know 💜.

You probably don't need to read the first little bit before reading this, but it's short, anyway!

// Maxiel

There’s a clear distinction between couldn’t and wouldn’t. Still, from how Max clutches the stack of papers in his hands, his knuckles red, burgeoning on purple, Daniel knows it’s not the time to pick apart his words.

He allows the thought to sit in his chest momentarily before pursing his lips and letting out a soft sigh.

It had never been about his willingness--or unwillingness, from Max’s point of view--to love Max. That Daniel would grow to love Max, would fall in love with Max in a way that shuts the door on other people fully and with deafening finality? That had never been a question.

Max, for Daniel, had been inevitable.

Daniel couldn’t love Max, though. Certainly not then, not when Daniel was still driving and had been so determined to prove to the world that he was someone at the expense of it all--even himself. The Daniel then couldn’t be queer; he couldn’t be interested in men. And he certainly couldn’t be interested in his fucking teammate.

He feels two sharp tugs at his sweater.

“Uncle Danny?” Issac asks with a slight hesitation in his voice.

Daniel blows out a breath, dragging the biggest smile he could muster to the surface. “It’s all right, Issac. Why don’t you head on out, yeah? Tell your Mum I probably won’t be coming for supper tonight.”

Issac looks at him, worried. “Are you sure, Uncle Danny?”

“I’m all good here, I promise,” Daniel says, ruffling the top of Issac’s hair. He gives Max a tired grin. Daniel doesn’t know whether it’s good or bad that Max hasn’t taken his eyes off him at all. “It’s not like Max here will kill me, yeah? We’re just going to catch up.”

His nephew doesn’t look convinced, but after giving Max another once over, Issac nods, grim. “If you get chopped up into pieces, I’m getting your dirt bike collection,” he says before nudging past Max, straight out the door and making a beeline towards the front gates.

“He’s a little intense,” Daniel says, shrugging. He won’t apologize for Issac, not when he still doesn’t know why Max is even here. “Come in; you must be exhausted.” Daniel turns around, walking towards the kitchen, not looking back to see if Max had followed him.

He tries to ignore the relief that pools at the pit of his stomach when he hears the light scuffling of Max’s shoes behind him.

Rummaging through his fridge, Daniel pulls out a carton of orange juice and a water bottle. “You must be thirsty,” he starts, pouring Max a glass. “I’m afraid I’m not fully stocked up yet. Just got here from--”

“I didn’t come here for a fucking drink,” Max interrupts, jaw set.

Daniel can’t help but mirror Max’s tone. “Why the hell did you come here, then?”

“Did you love me?” Max asks instead of answering, his voice cracking at the edges. “Before.”

His first instincts tell him to run, but Daniel plants his feet harder on the ground. He’s done with running. This time, Daniel wants roots. “Which time?”

Max slams his papers on the kitchen island, the first few loose pages on the top of the heap scattering to the floor. “What the fuck does that even mean? What do you mean ‘which time’?” he asks, shaking. “After you won in Monaco, after I told you how I felt about you. When the fuck else? Are you saying you loved me at any other point in time?” Max spits out the last bit with venom, almost making Daniel recoil.

“Yes,” he says, quiet, but firm. Daniel carefully gathers the papers, squaring them up neatly. He pushes them to the side, making sure there’s nothing on the counter between them. “And yes. Every time, Max.”

#maxiel #tiny fic #my fic #danifesting is literally my fave #and pretty much every maxiel thing I've written has been for them heh #f1

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vigilskept · 3 months ago

Note

Hiii for Diya 👁

8. What is the origin of their personality? And let's be honest - how much of it is projecting?

16. Is there any memes or running jokes associated with the character, both in- and out of universe?

- asexualtabris 💜

okay so for a little context: the premise for diya came out of my speculations on the “blood magic weakens your connection to the fade” lore wrt how a somniari might intentionally exploit that to cope with the Horrors. since we already have some codices suggesting uldred taught blood magic to some apprentices, i started messing with the idea of a surana who was mentored by him before irving.

uldred being the kind of guy he is, i had to start by thinking about what kind of student he could actually have a positive relationship with (answer: a promising student who is also autistic) and from there, her disconcertingly machiavellian tendencies came out of the nightmare combo of having both irving & uldred as mentors (+ the fact that she would HAVE to have played a pretty good game up to her recruitment to not end up tranquil!)

+ it’s vital to give ur protagonists some fun little flaws to trip themselves up over, and for this the mage origin gives you a really crunchy one right in the harrowing. Pride, baybee!! she is the teachers pet & the best in the class, but she’s NOT infallible and her overconfidence is going to lead to disaster. specifically the combo of pride & self-preservation (again, pulling from Mouse, but it works so well!!!!)

that was the baseline anyway, the rest i got a better idea of after actually doing a playthrough for her/writing her pov :)

out of universe the autism creature meme IS diya to me. these 2 versions in particular:

in universe quoting from the chant in deeply heretical ways is her favourite bit 🫶 she knows it way too well and never seems to run out of material.

post deep roads expedition kirkwall diya & alistair also have a bit where if things are getting too grim and serious they’ll pretend they “sense some darkspawn” nearby. i fear this may become a boy who cried wolf situation for them when we eventually have to hang out with corypheus…

character questions

#ty for the ask!!#wrt projection…#i wouldn’t say i’m projecting too much personality-wise onto diya aside from maybe the gallows humour?#i AM absolutely projecting some of the Horrors onto diya tho. intimately familiar with my good friends Insomnia & Chronic Nightmares 😁#& autism…. but it presents very differently in her vs in me. i do NOT have a flat affect. i can’t even type with a flat affect.#diya surana

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arcielee · 2 years ago

Text

Farewell Wanderlust

Warnings: As always, MDNI, 18+ murder by Temes, character death, angst like a mofo, evil plotting, sexual themes, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving) Pairing: Osferth x OFC Word Count: 6941 Summary: Torn from her home country, Keavy finds herself trying to survive across the Irish sea. She happens across Uhtred and his motley crew, and finds herself befriending a monk who is determined to become a warrior. Author’s Note: Thank you @sylas-the-grim for helping me edit this chapter. Thank you everyone who loved Keavy and Osferth [I am not opposed to a epilogue, let me know]. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chonky chapter. 💜 Deireadh is end in Irish. Dividers are by @saradika Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @tssf-imagines @triscy @whoknows333 @shesjustanothergeek @heavenly1927 @myfandomprompts @fangirlninja67 @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauftivy @vintageypanwitch @heimtathurss [bold means I was unable to tag you!]

Chapter 7

The seasons had gone and Osferth found himself back within the walls of Wintanceaster. Darkness drafted over the city with the swell of storm clouds, heavy with their threat of the last of the summer rains, with flashes of white and its low rumble of thunder; it mixed with the nightfall, casting long shadows from the bold posts of amber light that was stilted in the streets, leading up to the castle.

His legs ached from the time spent on horseback, as they had traveled North to see Ragnar and his swell of rebellion in Dunholm, only to come back again, flitting amongst the cities that thread throughout East Anglia, Mercia, and then back to Wessex. They moved almost headlong, avoiding the threat of the king that hung over their heads, knitted along with the poisoned whisper of Bloodhair’s seer.

She was now dead but death followed them still, something now palpable within the castle walls of the city.

There was an eerie familiarity as he moved with deliberate steps, following two paces behind Uhtred, who followed behind the priest, and they moved, quick and quiet, through the corridor. Osferth thought back to the last time his father dared to publicly acknowledge him, how his large palm had wrapped around his arm, his staggered steps on wiry legs to keep pace with the stride of the King of Wessex.

Until that moment, Osferth had only been a shadow, a murmur of the ealdorman amongst the stone walls. He was only acknowledged by his sister, who would often pull him away to play games, as Edward was too small to be bothered with.

These were moments he cherished, but they were always fleeting, always ending with the sharp gaze of the queen over her pointed nose; it proceeded the rustle of her skirt with her curt pace, as she would sweep Æthelflæd away for prayer and penitence, leaving Osferth to fade away into the shadows once again.

If it had been left to the queen, she would see him to not exist within the walls, but here he now walked, as requested by Uhtred, his steps joining the soft echo of their footfalls. They stopped outside an oak door and Beocca held up his hand before slipping into the room first, leaving them for a moment.

In the quiet, Osferth dared ask. “Why did you bring me here, lord?”

“Why not?” Uhtred turned to face him, his voice low.

“You could have brought Finan to witness what the king wished to say,” he explained, pausing only to wet his lips. “But you chose me.” There was a hum to fill the silence and Osferth could see gold rings reflecting from the candlelight in the blues of his eyes; Uhtred did not answer his question. “The last time we were in Wintanceaster, my grief and my actions led to consequences…”

“You did what was right by your gods, lord.”

There was a subtle quirk of his lips as Uhtred watched him before he continued. “Nonetheless, it did not affect only me, but it still resulted in us being banished and torn from,” and his expression showed consideration for his next words chosen, “those we care deeply for.”

Keavy.

The thought of her name alone sent an ardent surge through his veins, something that always thrummed beneath, knotting with his yearn for her touch, for her smile again. She remained with him, heavy on his heart, alongside the cross pendant gifted that was safely tucked beneath his embossed, leather cuirass and ratted albe; its cool metal often served as a balm for the heartsore he woke up with ever since she left for Saltwic.

It had been thirteen months since he last saw her, since he last touched her or tasted her, her lips haunting the curve of his mouth. He often thought of the moment in the stables, their last kiss shared, how she felt beneath his large palms when he placed them on her hips to help her aback; his fingers ached to let her go and his desperate reach to touch her one last time, trailing up the curve of her calf.

Keavy had looked at him, the green of her brilliant eyes focusing beneath the flutter of her dark lashes; his eyes etched the rose color that nipped at her features, blooming from the cool night’s air, from the urgency to leave the city.

He grasped at these moments, but they seemed to spill between his fingers, a thousand words perched on his tongue but he could only squeeze her calf gently, he could only manage the simple promise, “I will return to you,” and then she was gone, leaving him to choke on the unsaid.

“How long has it been?” Untred asked, his voice low, kind, and easing him back into the hallway of the castle of Wintanceaster.

Four hundred and twelve days. “Over a year now, lord.”

Uhtred hummed again. “Osferth, I brought you here to hold me accountable when we face Alfred, so that we may right what is needed and be able to return to Saltwic, but without the echoes of outcast or fugitive to follow our steps.” He offered a wry smile.

Osferth felt his heart flutter with his words, his fingers pressing to feel the soft crinkle of parchment of the letter tucked away, its edges fraying, and each word memorized. As they traveled, updates were fleetingly sent from Saltwic, and only just a quick recount from Æthelflæd that all was well, that they, that Keavy, were still safe.

She studies beside Oswald, who is becoming your namesake, Æthelflæd’s words teased. She is adamant to continue learning so she may send her own words to you.

His heart held onto these words and the bit of hope they offered, as it was all that could be done with the unprecedented time and travel. But when the threat of Æthelflæd was vocalized in Dunholm, they were quick to come to her aid and learned of Æthelred’s intended ill-will.

It was a mixture of frustration, of exhaustion, just the sheer disappointment to return and find Saltwic empty… “They are safe,” his sister was quick to say, her eyes flitting from Osferth, then to Sihtric, and the rest of them. “I had them sent to Alencestre when Aldhelm warned me…” and she faltered.

It was a wrath returned and Osferth spoke low. “I will kill him,” and he felt Uhtred rest his palm on his shoulder, grounding him.

Æthelflæd watched him, a slight curl to her pink lips, and she stepped towards him. “I swore to you that I would keep her safe,” her words just for him and his gaze flicked to meet her own; she reached for his hands. “This is for you.”

A letter, and he felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards, using the fading sunlight to read. Osferth, it began, the sweet curl of her lettering to the piece of parchment, and he could hear her musical lilt with the few lines she had written, I have not forgotten what you have promised me, and I hold onto the hope that neither have you. I am waiting, still, and I will do so until you return to me.

The simplicity of her message warmed his heart; he took care to refold its creases and tuck it away, carrying it with him always. In the days that followed, he came across an intimate moment shared between his sister and Uhtred; he saw her blush, her swift steps to pull away from him and her expression when she spotted Osferth.

He offered his arm, watching how her brow furrowed, the bob of her neck as she swallowed thickly. “Show me the gardens by the chapel,” he offered a scapegoat.

She tucked her fingers in the crook of his arm, keeping with his languid pace; she did not speak of the greenery. “Love is peculiar, isn’t it?” Æthelflæd, if anything, was fearsome, but in that moment she gave a wistful look over her shoulder to see the embrace the seer pressed onto Uhtred. “It has a way to thread within your heart, but life has chapters that must be completed first until it is ready to blossom, or so it seems.”

Osferth hummed, his steps slowed to keep with her, his mind returning to the words written: I am waiting.

“Do you love her, Osferth?”

It was a relief to admit it outloud, to say something that pressed within his heart, heavy with his steps that traveled northwards and back again. It was a thought that sung with the rising sun and carried throughout to a melodious lull at night. But he also confided his hesitation to tell Keavy just this.

“What keeps you from saying this to her?”

Osferth swallowed, his lips pursed in debate of what words he would choose, deciding to trust his sister: the sin’s of their father and the curse that he was born into.

She stopped walking and he followed, turning to look at her; he saw the maturity to her beauty, the hereditary severity that lined her lovely face with her smile. “Oh Osferth,” she began, reaching for his hand to hold his attention, “I think life is cruel enough on its own without this perpetual penance. God be damned,” she almost laughed, “I see that Keavy has a strength knitted within her very bones. I believe you should allow her to decide her own fate, to allow her to choose to spend our given time on this earth with you or not.”

Osferth blinked. “Promise me you will tell her when you see her again,” she continued, and he saw a sadness to her smile, “as I know she loves you.”

His heart lifted with her words, but the sadness was heavy still with his sister. “What of Lord Uhtred?” His curiosity could not be helped; since the nunnery, he was too aware of the lingering glances, their subtle touches shared, how their every movement was scrutinized from the sharp glare of the witch.

Plumes of red stained her porcelain tones and her lashes fluttered as she forced herself to keep his gaze. “I believe,” her tone slow with a recognition all her own, “that Uhtred and I are maimed by a great love lost, that our sorrow recognizes one another and we cannot help but be drawn towards each other.”

Osferth nodded; the guilt, the weight of Gisela’s death nearly killed Uhtred on the way to Dunholm, and this was first he had seen his smile in months. “I only wish for you to find happiness, Æthelflæd.”

“And I, you, Osferth,” her eyes glassy with her words. “You will always be welcomed in Mercia.”

They were quick to move, called to Aegelesburg and spoke strategy on how to cripple the Dane army that grew. After the bloodshed, they returned to Coccham and found the village thriving, though once they passed through the archway, Osferth could not shake the haunted feeling of the transitory happiness that seemed an eternity ago.

The pagan hall had the spilled stain of lords unwelcomed, with their placed ornaments of the Christian God hanging above while they ate their fill; they were seated at the same table where he helped Keavy tutor Stiorra and Oswald, her endless patience and sweet smile, and how Gisela watched over them, her eyes glittering.

But that warmth was swept from the great hall and Osferth left without a word, following the dirt path that returned him to the room he and Keavy shared. The air was stale, her lingering scent gone, and nothing but a dust that covered the bare furniture left behind.

He took deep breaths through his mouth, the heartache still pressing, and he felt jolted from his self-wallowing.

I know she loves you.

He then heard Leofric, his words clawing through the earth, an echo that rang bold from his grave: a man could be set on a path, but only his steps could create his own destiny.

Osferth felt embolden, something that now seared through his veins, propelling his steps forward with the earth crunching beneath his boots. He thought of the time lost to his damn hesitation, for some curse mentioned by a faith lost, a curse deemed by his very existence and damned by the sins of his father, and how he foolishly allowed it to still his tongue when it came to her.

He knew he loved Keavy, just as Uhtred described once, something that thrummed beneath his skin, in tandem with his heartbeat.

He moved towards the Temes, to allow a new breath, a moment to clear his mind of this burdened relief carried that now was dissipating with each step. He only stopped when he saw Untred and the witch, but he dared to creep forward, silent, wary, watching how the tension lifted in his lord’s shoulders when he released her and how she drifted away with the current.

Uhtred seemed surprised as Osferth moved to the dock, reaching to pull him from the river. He was quiet through the confession, how Uhtred was not proud of what he had done, and he was quick to stop his lament. “You have taken control of your destiny, lord,” and his words burned in his chest, as if branded by the Celtic cross worn. “Today, I have decided to do the very same.”

Curse be damned.

“I will not leave this city,” and Uhtred’s voice returned his attention back to the hallway, perched outside the king’s door, “until we have been reinstated, free men once more. And besides,” Uhtred was watching him, “don’t you wish to see your father?”

Osferth returned the stare; this thought had been furthest from his mind, but the words spoken wrapped around his throat and he swallowed hard. The silence was heavy and his voice cracked when he said, “Yes, lord.”

It was then that Beocca peered out, gesturing to Osferth. “The king wishes to speak with you first,” and the priest moved aside.

Osferth looked to Uhtred for a moment, who nodded his encouragement, and he moved past the priest, slipping into the room.

Orange hues pooled around the bed from the thick tapers lit and the king was swathed in woolen blankets, propped against overstuffed cushions to hold him upright. Osferth marveled at the vestige of the man from Aescengum months prior, his complexion waxen and his skin taught over his bones, with dark rings beneath his closed eyes. He would have assumed the king was already dead had he not noticed the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the muted labored breaths beneath the layers.

And then the king opened his eyes, their shared blue that was muddled with his sickness and that wavered until they fell to where Osfeth stood. There was the shudder of his youth, his want to wilt away from the direct gaze, but instead he moved towards the bedside.

King Alfred watched with bruised, hooded eyes as Osferth seated himself on the ottoman, pulling himself close enough to see that candlelight show the last glimmer of life touching his pallid features. “Osferth,” the king began, his name foreign, spilling from his cracked tongue and lips.

A cough came, a wet rasp that was covered by a handkerchief spotted with blood; Osferth looked to grab a goblet at the bedside, offering a drink that he gratefully took. When he set the mug down, he felt the king clasped his hand onto his other, a papery thin touch, and Osferth dutifully reached with his other hand, dutiful to his dying father, solemn with his returned gesture.

“I know what you have done,” Alfred continued between ragged breaths. “I have heard of your bravery,” and he paused. “You are a good man and I am proud.”

Osferth shifted his weight from his words and the king did not notice, or if he did, he continued anyway. “Death allows you to reflect on your failures, your misdoings in your life,” he released his hold, pressing his palms against the top blanket; the skin clung thin to the bones, his knuckles jutted against. “There is a letter prepared. Bring it to Æthelflæd, she will know what must be done.”

His eyes followed the weak wave to see the parchment folded and the red wax of the king’s seal placed. “I only ever wished to do what was right by you,” and Osferth jerked back towards the murmur of the king, a man of regal regret, and saw that Alfred held a look of awe, as if it was his first time to truly see his eldest son.

“Osferth,” he repeated, his voice weak and his eyes glassy. “I am proud.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, the threat of tears in the same eyes he shared with his father.

Osferth felt a warm touch on his shoulder and looked up to see Uhtred standing over, a gentle squeeze. He moved to stand, excusing himself to leave the room, pausing in the doorway for a final look at his father, who managed a second wind to greet Uhtred; dutiful until the end.

Only in the corridor did he dare peer at the letter in hand, at the king’s penmanship that began: To my kinsman, Osferth.

+ + + +

“I see horsemen.”

Keavy sat below the tree that Stiorra climbed, her back against the trunk and a tome opened across her lap; the girl was growing long like her mother, allowing a reach for the higher limbs, and still slender enough for the branches to hold her weight. Keavy squinted upwards to where the girl was perched, watching. “Tradesmen?”

The cool breeze rippled through her hair and she used one hand to push it from her view. “If they are tradesmen, they travel light.”

Keavy closed the book and set it on top of the quilt spread at the base, pushing to her feet. “Climb down, Stiorra,” she swallowed the tinge of panic to her tone. “It would be best to alert Lady Æthelflæd…” in case they are unfriendly, but she could not say that out loud.

It had been weeks since the Battle of Holme, as it now known; it was a bloodshed of Danes, a revolt orchestrated by Æthelwold that had been met by Lord Uhtred and his valiant men, as well as the Anglo-Saxon allied militia. Despite the victory, the Danes that escaped flitted across the villages of Northumbria, still raiding, still vengeful.

“They may be Dane,” Stiorra continued her assessment, her head tilting; it was one of the many traits passed from Gisela, her unwavering fearlessness as in this moment, watching still. “Or some of them, anyway…”

“Stiorra,” her voice was sharper. “Now.”

She reached for a thicker branch to begin her descent, pausing to say, “Keavy,” and she looked down. “It is my father!”

It had been fourteen months since they had arrived at Saltwic; they rode through the night and following day, coming just as the amber streaks of dusk splayed behind the stoned rook. Lady Æthelflæd came to the courtyard at the call of her men, wearing with the same severity of her brother that was etched onto her features.

She recognized Hild and beckoned them inside at once, with Sigdeflaed guiding the bleary eyed children and Keavy lingering behind with the nun. While Hild recounted the prior days, Keavy was drawn to watch the emotions playing across her fair features in a way that was akin to Osferth, subtle but austere; only when Keavy was mentioned by name was the noticeable flicker, the small curl upwards of her lips.

“You are Keavy?”

She felt the blood pour into her cheeks as Æthelflæd turned her attention towards her, with the same blue that belonged to Osferth. “I am,” Keavy gave a small nod.

“I have heard so much about you,” and she smiled with a warmth that reached her eyes. “You are safe here, I swear it. For as long as it is needed.”

The weeks that followed were quiet, uneventful, though Keavy still kept her seax and dagger on her person out of caution, or perhaps comfort. She still pressed for a new normalcy for both Stiorra and Oswald, who seemed to have aged with their grief.

Stiorra mirrored her mother in so many ways, though her willful temperament came from Uhtred; she had no interest in her studies, but still would participate, in part to torment her brother, but mostly she pushed to learn how to handle a real blade. Whereas Oswald had grown solemn in Saltwic, embracing the supplied priest for their tutoring lessons, newly dedicated to the faith.

Keavy remained present, sitting with Æthelflæd, who would often use the time to pen a letter for Osferth. She was aware of the Irishwoman’s gaze and asked her, “Would you care to add something?”

She blushed as she shyly admitted that Osferth had been teaching her to read whenever he was in Coccham, but never to write; with this Æthelflæd smiled, a soft hum of encouragement for her to sit alongside the priest, taking a personal interest for Keavy to practice her penmanship.

The seasons rolled away as the autumn’s yellows, oranges, and reds were soon covered by the first dusting of snowfall, enveloping Saltwic in white; the only color shown were the rich tones of primrose that bloomed throughout the gardens.

Inside, fresh parchment was placed onto the table and Keavy looked up to see the same kind smile, the same kind eyes that she recognized in Osferth with Æthelflæd’s features. “This is for you, so you may write to him,” was all she said.

Æthelflæd seemed very aware of whatever was between Keavy and her brother, but she still could not help the color that flushed her cheeks. “What would I even tell him?”

“Whatever it is that you are carrying in your heart,” Æthelflæd replied, a knowing smile curling on her rosy lips.

The empty page seemed to taunt her and Keavy remained seated long after the rest retired to their quarters. The quiet, the solitude allowed her to finally pull from her heart as suggested, blowing on the ink to dry.

She heard steps and turned to see Æthelflæd returning downstairs with a man in her shadow. Keavy pushed from her seat, her seax and dagger drawn, her heart in her teeth. “Keavy, it’s okay, I know him–” she held up her hands, a flush of color to her cheeks. “We must act quickly.”

Saltwic was no longer safe and they were to leave for Alencestra at once; the words clawed within her chest as Æthelflæd continued, “I will leave for Wincelcumb, and I will send for Uhtred.” Her eyes were bright with her plan. “You all will be safe there until I come for you… once this matter is dealt with.”

“Uhtred will kill him,” and Keavy sheathed her steel, her eyes still wary of the man. “They both will kill him.” Osferth.

Æthelflæd nodded. “I hope it does not come to that.”

“Lady, be safe.” Keavy reached for the parchment, folding it. “And… if you see Osferth, could you give him this?”

Her knowing smile hinted, the newfound worry lifting for a moment until the hushed whisper came: “Lady, we must hurry.”

The time in Alencestra was long enough for Oswald to announce his departure for St. Wilfrid’s Church, to go back to Wessex, refusing to return with them to Saltwic. Keavy watched him, finally seeing the flare of his father in Oswald, the young man's eyes bold with his conviction. Stiorra was incredulous and only Æthelflæd seemed supportive.

“Father will understand my decision,” he finished.

But Keavy knew that would not be the case.

They returned to Saltwic just as the snow melted with the returned plumes of color from the flowers that sprouted through, followed by the summer rains that thundered and muddied the earth, and continued until it was blanketed once again with the amber colors of autumn, sprawling as far as the eye could see.

And they remained still, without word, without direction from Uhtred, without an update from Osferth. Instead, news only came second-hand: the death of the king of Wessex and the succession of the aetheling Edward, and the bloodied battle won against his uncle Æthelwold.

Kevay tried to smother her impatience, her anxiety that knotted in her chest, waiting for a whisper, a murmur of news, to know if Osferth still lived or if he had died. She wondered if she would ever be able to tell him what she failed to write to him.

That she loved him, and she always would.

And now the words that spilled from Stiorra swept the air from her lungs, her stance wavering slightly. “Stiorra… are you certain?” The girl moved with a newfound eagerness, branch over branch, uncaring how her skirts caught and tore them free. “I see the glint of Serpent-Breath’s handle!” Her tone was gleeful. “He is back as he promised! And he brings your beau!”

Keavy flushed crimson. “You know not what you talk about–”

“I am only young, I am not blind,” she continued with her cheeky tone, teasing just as Gisela had always done. The heartache of her loss remained, but Keavy always pressed for them to recall the good, that it was the love they held for their mother that would keep her memory alive. “I remember how you were sweet on him and besides,” and her grin matched her tone, “I also remember mother saying he was your beau.”

It was as if Gisela was able to still tease beyond the grave. “Nevermind what she said–” Keavy burned as she struggled for her words. “Just, come down, quick!”

Stiorra gave another cheeky grin before dropping from the last branch and landing back onto the ground; her cheeks were rosy from the sun, her eyes bright with her discovery.

Keavy took her hand, the fevered pull of her heart with their hurried steps, her mind repeating the same hope she clung to the prior fourteen months: they have returned, Osferth is here!

It was called throughout and soon there was the spill into the courtyard, the gates opening as they gathered. Keavy stood solid despite the flurried anticipation that trilled her spine, watching until her vision blurred and blinking to clear it again.

Uhtred led the men into Saltwic and its welcoming cries. Stiorra, who was a young woman in so many ways but at that moment, she was a child again and happy to see her father; she preened as he dismounted, pulling her close and pressing a kiss on top of her head. His steady gaze fell to Æthelflæd, her modest smile and the rose color pluming on her fair complexion as she watched.

Then there was the reunion of man and wife, with Sihtric quick to pull Sigdeflaed for a kiss, of Finan calling loudly to their public display, but Keavy ignored it all; her eyes sought for Osferth alone.

And she saw him, further back with Pyrlig, swinging his leg over the cantle and dropping off the side of his horse. He seemed taller than she remembered, a beacon that cut through once his eyes found Keavy, navigating through the men with his long legs.

She willed herself forward, but remained rooted with her awestruck–he’s here. Osferth pressed forward until he was able to reach for her hand, and she was quick to take it, as she always had, as she always would.

It was the familiar fit she longed for, how her hand fit into his own; his fingers still slender, his grip hardened with callouses from the reins, from his sword, but was gentle still, and firm with his hold, as if anything less would allow her to float away. Keavy followed his steps as he pulled her away from the crowd–though she felt their eyes follow, and they walked until they came around to the gardens, where the small chapel stood.

There was the crunch of the auburn foliage with the season change beneath their feet, the cold nipping in the air. Osferth stopped and turned to face Keavy, his hands moving to the dip of her waist; she felt the air wrung from her chest with how he looked at her, the same brilliant blue of his eyes, rose hues that stained his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

“Keavy,” began the gentle timbre of his voice, another flutter that swept through her with how he said her name, “may I kiss you?”

She almost cried with his request, but instead gave a small nod; his lips curled, the blood beneath his skin darkening his features, and he dipped his head forward, the soft touch of his lips before he pressed against her. Keavy melted against him, her hands clasping on his forearms with a tight hold to keep her standing. She was unaware she was even crying until he pulled away, his concern knitting his sharp features and his large palms moving to cup her face.

His touch was still gentle, warm and mindful of her mar, his thumb careful to wipe away the large tears that spilled. “You are crying?” He sounded alarmed, as if he held himself the cause.

“You came back,” was all she could say, a hoarse whisper that broke away from her throat.

“Keavy,” his relief washed over and his lips curled upwards, his gaze softening with her words, “I told you that I would.”

Her laugh was choked with tears and he gave a chaste kiss before he pulled away, not outside of arms’ reach, but space enough to pull the Celtic silver cross from beneath his clothes; it gleamed in the sunlight. “I said I would bring this back. It always seemed to bring me luck,” he teased as he untied the leather. “May I?”

She nodded again, her hands trembling to gather her dark hair as he moved behind her, bringing the necklace and knotting it at the nape of her neck; her skin rose with his warm touch, his thumb against her spine, and she felt his lips touch, his rumbled hum reverberating throughout her.

“Would you rather just keep it?” she felt silly with her question, her fingers coming to touch the metal and turning to meet with his eyes.

Osferth looked to her hand before resting his large palm over, and her heart rattled in her chest. “This is where it belongs,” and she saw how his neck bobbed as he swallowed. “Keavy,” he seemed solemn, almost uneasy, “I know so much has happened, so much that I wish to tell you…” he shifted his weight. “Keavy, I am a man cursed–”

“Osferth?” Her brow quirked.

He shook his head, searching for the words, “I mean this in the biblical sense–”

“I refuse to hear this, damn the Saxon God,” she burst, the flash of severity brightening her eyes as she spoke. “Your worth is not deemed by the sins of another man!”

Osferth watched her with a pursed smile that deepened his dimples, and he leaned forward to capture her mouth; the kiss was soft, it was warm, and when she sighed, his tongue curled within her mouth, a languid pace to taste. When he pulled back, Keavy sighed again, the warmth burning her cheeks, her lips slightly swollen. “Allow me to finish?” His whisper fanned her face and she nodded numbly.

“I am cursed, mayhaps,” and his gaze shifted a moment, but he did not continue with that thought, but instead, “I know that I have nothing to offer your affection, but know that with what I have, I will give you. I knew from the moment I saw you, from the moment we touch, how it gave me a sense of home I had never felt before,” he looked at the hold, how her palm curled within his own, the steady rise and fall of her chest, “I wish you to be my wife, Keavy. I love you.”

And only then did he meet with her eyes, and Keavy could feel how her scar ached with how she smiled. “Say it again, Osferth.”

“That I am cursed?” He seemed uncertain, and even more as she laughed.

“No,” and she pulled her hands away, sliding them to curl against the base of his neck, pulling him closer for another kiss. “Only the last part,” she whispered against his mouth.

Osferth smiled, glowing. “I love you, Keavy.”

And they kissed.

+ + + +

There was a call for the staff to prepare a feast, for barrels to be rolled out so no mug would be empty, as there was much cause for a celebration this day.

Æthelflæd and Sigdeflaed pulled Keavy away, helping her scrub every inch of skin and combing her curls with a rose oil gleam; a cream tunic and kirtle was gifted, cinching at her waist, a rich plum that complemented her fair skin and brought out her green eyes.

There was a soft tap at the door that showed Stiorra holding a garland crown of primroses from the garden. “Just as you would do for me,” she smiled as Keavy placed it on top of her head before pulling her in for a hug.

Arms linked, they walked back outside just as the last stretch of sunlight tucked away, the beginning blue hues that mixed with the burnt oranges and stars beginning to dot the sky. Keavy felt as if she were walking on the air as they entered the small chapel to see Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric, and the priest Pylrig towards the back where the stained glass reflected the tapers lit. She smiled at the sight of Osferth, and he returned it, his dimples lining his cheeks watching her eager steps to meet him.

The priest officiated, taking Osferth’s large hand and placing it on top of Keavy’s. He felt her slight tremble and peered to see the flush of color with her grin; his thumb drew small circles and only then did she look to him, the color deepening on her cheeks.

A quick prayer at the end was followed with a sweet kiss, and Finan crowed loudly. “Fucking finally!”

Night spilled over Saltwic and torches were lit to show the way back, able to follow the rich aroma of the feast prepared; cups brimmed and toasts given to the new king, to the safe return of Uhtred and his men, and to the new lordship, which cause Keavy to look at Osferth.

His grin was shy and he brought her knuckles up for a kiss. “I promise I will tell you everything, but this night I only wish to celebrate my beautiful wife.”

She glowed with his words, leaning forward for a kiss to his jaw with the whisper, “Whatever you desire,” and her tone sultry, “my lord.”

Osferth did not let go of her hand, his slender fingers interlacing with her own, and she followed his sure steps that led away from the continued festivities and towards the room that had been prepared for them. When they came to the door, he drew her close by bringing the back of her palm to his lips for a gentle kiss, relishing in the flush of color to her cheeks before he opened the door.

He pulled her inside, making sure to close and lock the door before he turned to capture her mouth; he pressed against her and she moaned in response, her arms wrapping around his neck, his tongue clever to taste. His large hands that had been hardened from battle showed grace with the intricacies of the lacings on her dress, with Osferth pausing to kiss the bit of new skin he exposed until Keavy was fully bare.

Each touch of his lips seemed to spark against her skin, fluttering to her nerve endings and back again; she felt the coiled fervor in her lower abdomen, a wetness that pooled between her thighs, an ache to be touched by his hands.

“Osferth,” she breathed against his lips, “I need you.”

But instead he pulled back, taking away the warmth he embodied, and Keavy could not help her soft whine, feeling her blush spill with intimate rose hues that stained her skin. He watched, his eyes rolling over her, his brilliant blue swallowed by his lustful haze and an almost playful curl to his lips.

Osferth closed the space he created, a hot whisper in the shell of her ear, “I know,” and he moved closer, feeling her shuddered response beneath his fingertips, gentle to touch her hips and bring her flush against his chest; she sighed at the heavy shaft that pressed onto her lower stomach, “I promise, but first…”

Keavy looked to see a pink dusting that covered his cheeks, his smile almost shy with his continued confession. “You must be first… I certainly will not last.”

She kissed him again, her fingers pulling at the tunic he still wore; they moved towards the bed, a trail of his clothing in their wake, until she was able to fall back against the mattress. Osferth remained standing, a moment to admire her curves, from the width of her hips to her waist, the natural slope of her breasts and watching their rise and fall with her breath.

He climbed onto the bed, moving between her plush thighs; it was a scent intimately her own, mixing pleasantly with the fresh straw and linen. Osferth dipped his head to place a kiss to the bloom above her entrance and she sighed, her thighs clenching in response, but his large hands moved to grip into the softness, pulling them apart so he could sink further.

Keavy felt the blood rush to her head; his touch was familiar, remembered, with his soft nuzzle between and his kisses that led towards her center. She gasped and he only hummed in response, his lips curling upwards as they pressed to savor her essence; it was overwhelming after so long, and Keavy could not help but jump, another gasp that ripped from her chest.

His hold tightened, his pleading murmur against her folds, “Let me, let me,” as he continued.

She could not help but squirm, her fingers combing through his locks to root herself, and Osferth hummed again, a vibration that fluttered throughout her. She felt his fingers press against her silken slit, the curl of one digit within and another followed, creating sparks of pleasure that trilled up her spine with his come hither motion; her heart pounded against her chest from his sensual ministrations, the blood roaring towards her center as each euphoric wave began to crest and press against her seams.

“Osferth,” she cried, pearled tears clumping her lashes together.

“My beautiful wife,” his breathless praise against her wet cunt, “just like that…”

Osferth continued and her stomach tightened before the coiling passion finally burst, stars dancing before her eyes and her sinful clench around his fingers as he continued to coax through its entirety. Once her breath steadied, once her vision cleared, did she look to see he was now standing, his fingers now wrapped around the base his length, heady and heavy and glistening from her release.

She pushed to her elbows to meet as he moved on top of her, capturing his lips and she licked herself off his chin with a giggle. Osferth grinned, moving into the cradle of her hips, resting on his elbows to hold his weight, but she clenched her thighs to draw him closer for another breathless kiss.

Keavy melted against the warmth of his bare skin, the tickle of his chest hair, and his arm dipped between them to line the crown of his cock to her entrance, the gratifying stretch as he filled her. She gasped from the slow roll of his hips, sheathing his length and rekindling a passion with his each thrust; her nails bit into his shoulders, gasping to catch her breath that was being pulled away with the returning crests of pleasure, of something deeper within that caused her walls to flutter.

“Again?” Osferth was flushed, pleased, but his pace did not falter.

She could only give a mewled response, a clenching release, an intensity from the depth he reached inside her, and its rapturous pull that left her boneless and breathless, caged in his arms. Osferth followed her over the edge, tucking his head into the junction of her neck to her shoulder, a muted groan as his cocked pulsed within her velvet walls.

And they laid for a moment before he began to place soft kisses against the curve of her neck, his lips trailing her jaw, and she giggled from his touch. He grinned again, another chaste kiss on her lips before he pulled away, moving to grab a cloth that was draped by the washbin, wringing it out and returning to wipe away the sex, pausing a moment to admire the spill of his seed and how it gleamed against her rosy folds.

The hour was late when they finally crawled beneath the layers of blankets, of furs, and Osferth curled behind her with a deep inhale then a sigh from feeling the softness of her backside pressed against his chest, from how she fit into his embrace as his arms wrapped around her waist. He nestled further into her curls, a scent sorely missed of rose oil against her flushed skin, until his lips touched the back of her neck, eliciting a sleepy sigh from her lips.

He smiled, the low murmur, “My sweet wife.”

Deireadh.

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