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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Few Too Many

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, In-game violence and death, Suggestive comments

Genre: Protective fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Jealousy is a dangerous thing, especially when the jealous person is armed with a gun....in a game of Counter Strike. At least Y/N’s friend will now know not to mess around and flirt with her, especially not with Corpse around.

Requested by 🐐 Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request but here it finally is! I didn’t want to make it IRL violence to avoid triggering anyone while I also felt it’d be very ooc for Corpse to beat someone up but I still hope you enjoy the fic if you come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Hey everyone!“ Y/N greets her squad as they all customize their characters while I sit there, observing and unknowing of what I’m supposed to do. “I invited Corpse to play with us today, hope y’all don’t mind.”

“Of course not! Nice to finally meet you, Corpse. We’ve heard a ton about you from Y/N, thanks for making our girl the happiest she’s ever been.“ One of her friends says, the tone of his voice suggesting he’s only half-joking with the dad like comment he made.

“Nice to meet you too, man. Glad I’m the one she gave the chance of making her happy. That’s all I ever wanna do.“ Though it may sound cheesy, as guys, her friends can probably read into how genuinely I mean what I’ve said.

Dating a girl with only guy friends has it’s pros and cons. Which outweigh which is still up for debate since I’m still researching, but so far so good in my opinion. This is the first time I’m interacting with them directly so I’ve still got a long way to go in terms of getting to know them and the details of their relationship with Y/N better. Regardless, I at least know they can easily understand me and put themselves in my shoes if I ever ‘mess things up’ with Y/N and she goes to complain to them - something that will most likely never happen. I’d never dare make this girl upset. Chances are, if I do, her friends won’t get to me on time - I would deliver my own punishment just the way I think I deserve it. However, there’s also the chance of them getting super protective of her and ganging up on me over something as small as a fight. By the many things and stories Y/N’s shared with me about them, I believe they wouldn’t think twice about kicking someone’s ass for her. They’re not massive dudes - I’ve seen pictures of them - but I for one don’t ever wanna see em angry.

“Ay bro, what’d you do to score our best girl? You must know what she likes. If so please, by all means, do tell.“ One of them, not the one who was previously talking, speaks up, his words making me furrow my brows in both confusion and irritation.

I open my mouth to complain as I slowly start cracking my knuckles when Y/N and her friends beat me to it. Thing is, Y/N’s friend group consists of three guys and her and yet four voices scolded the guy that made that suggestive comment. That being said, this guy probably isn’t considered to be one of her friends, at least not one that’s a permanent part of her friend group.

“Seth, cut it out!“ The guy I was previously speaking to says sharply before softening his tone to refer to me, “Sorry about my brother, excuse his lack of brain cells, please.“

Just then, I also receive a message from someone. Checking my phone, turns out it’s Y/N who by the way is currently in the living room while I’m in the recording room. Her text reads:

Y/N ~ Ignore Seth. I told Leo to not invite him but he’s still here somehow

I send her back a quick reassuring text before answering the guy I now know is named Leo, “No worries, it’s fine.”

“See? The guy can take a joke, you’re all just freaking out over nothing!“ Seth laughs, reminding me and the others of how loud he is compared to us.

Despite acting like it’s no big deal, I can’t help but admit to myself that this behavior of Seth’s has awoken a deeply buried suspicion of mine that’s not only mine but also arises in every guy whose girlfriend hangs out with a lot of guys. It’s not that I don’t trust Y/N - she could literally blindfold me and tell me to walk through a pool of lava, promising it wouldn’t hurt and I’d do it - but we all know about that saying that every guy in a group with one girl has liked said girl at least once.

Disturbing to think these four, including Seth five, dudes could’ve possibly been my competition at some point. It’s nice that they’re all super chill about it, mostly cause some of them have girlfriends as I was told.

Nevertheless, we get over that hiccup and carry on with the small talk and preparations for the game. Since it’s my first time playing CSGO, Y/N, Leo and her other friend Clancy explain the mechanics to me in detail to avoid me getting confused mid-game and getting myself killed. When they finish, we start the round and wait for the game’s algorithm to separate us into two teams which Y/N jokingly refers to as cops and robbers. Unfortunately, the end result of that separation ends up being me getting put in the terrorists’ force with Leo and Clancy while Y/N’s with the FBI, partnered with Seth and her other friend Evan.

“Alright, team, we shall now disperse. Corpse, remember, if you see more than one of them, radio in and lay low, we’ll be with you as soon as possible.“ Leo informs me as he runs off in one direction, Clancy going in the opposite. I confirm I understand and go along my way too, heading for this ancient looking structure that looks like it could belong in an old-timey movie.

Walking in, I realize the place is way bigger than it appeared on the outside. A quick look up confirms that there are three fucking floors above, not to mention that the ground floor is huge. Luckily, there are many crates and barrels to hide behind if I come across an FBI agent. I sure as hell hope it’s Y/N, I could maybe even try talking her into giving me a second chance at life and pretend she never saw me. Come to think of it though, I’d probably prefer getting killed by her rather than her friends - especially Seth.

Given that we’re in a Discord call, I can hear all the conversation going on. They are all quiet though, I can just periodically hear the mumbles of someone muttering to themselves as they navigate the map cautiously out of fear of running into their opponent unprepared. The silence is put to an end though when Seth speaks up, addressing Y/N.

“Yo, your boyfriend’s with the terrorists, ain’t he? That’s like the universe giving you a sign that y’all shouldn’t be together.“ The fucker laughs at his own joke while I can literally hear Y/N rolling her eyes.

“Have you heard of Romeo and Juliet, Seth?“ She asks sarcastically, almost getting a chuckle out of me but I suppress it to avoid getting caught listening in.

“Yeah, they both die at the end. Fucking boooriiinngg.“ Just then, I spot two silhouettes entering the building. Aiming my gun at them reveals their names - just the people I’m currently involuntarily eavesdropping on. Seth and Y/N don’t notice me though so I quickly duck behind a crate and prepare to radio in when Seth continues verbally torturing Y/N and dancing on my last nerves, “I personally think the friends-to-lovers trope is far more interesting...“

Did this guy just- no, he’s gotta be fucking kidding me

I’m left with my jaw hanging in disbelief at this guy’s audacity. I have no doubt Y/N’s about to put him in his place herself but I just gotta have my own chat with this guy. And by ‘chat’ I mean I mindlessly rush out from behind the crate towards where I saw him and Y/N and open fire on him. I hear his startled and upset screams with Y/N’s laughter in the background. She doesn’t try to stop me as a teammate of his should and would, instead she just observes the scene unfold, laughing her ass off.

“Yo man what the fuck was that for?!“ I hear Seth’s yell but only faintly since the sound of gunshots is still echoing through my headphones. Yeah, I’m not done shooting this fucker.

“Corpse...Corpse, buddy...“ Y/N manages through fits of laughter she cannot tame, “That’s a few too many bullets, he’s already dead.”

“And that was a few too many comments for him to be let off the hook.” I answer as sharply as I can with the new-formed smile on my face. What can I say, her happiness is contagious.

“Well, you got your first kill in CSGO. Good job, babe! I’m super proud of you!” She cheers for me, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Nah that was my first overkill.“ I quickly add, with a more threatening tone: “And it won’t be my last.”

“Let’s just hope there aren’t few too many of these overkills either.“ She snickers.

“That doesn’t depend on me, babe.“ I say smugly, suggestively enough for Seth to pick up the dropped hint. Mother fucker’s officially been put in his place and I couldn’t possibly be happier - with the added bonus of getting a ton of laughter out of Y/N who also decides to walk away, leaving me unharmed but promising to shoot to kill next time she sees me.

I’m ok with that. She could kill me anyday.

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

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Doth Not Fear, For Our Future Awaits {Prince Kylo Ren x Reader}

@babbushka:

Happy follower milestone my dear friend!! My prompt idea for your consideration: A medieval AU where reader is a lady in waiting to the Queen at the royal court, and Kylo is the crown prince who is in love with her. They can never be together...or can they? However you'd like to take this, if you decide at all, would be so much fun! xoxoxo :)

author’s notes: hello, hello! I’m baaaaack after a lengthy case of writers block 😩 my dearest friend, my beloved, thank you for this wonderful request!! I’ll be honest, I restarted this about three different times, but I’m very pleased with how this one turned out for you <3 @babbushka

warnings (what you see is what you’ll get!): fluff. forbidden romance/love. passionate kissing. themes of infidelity. use of Shakespearean English. some insults are thrown around.

no tw’s :)

word count: 1.6k

my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie @einmal-im-traum kylo’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings @icarusinthesea @lumdelacour @readingreaver @eagerforhoney @trubluepensfan @beachwoodmonet (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or at the top of my masterlist.)

[NOT my art/image. full credit to the artist, therealmcgee, and found via Pinterest]

A gentle autumn breeze rustles the masterpiece of dark tresses that sit atop the head of crown prince Kylo Ren, who stands alone in the moonlight-illuminated garden. The birds have ceased their chirps and allowed for the nighttime singers to shine through, crickets and katydids creating a peaceful melody from amongst the grasses.

He stands by the pond, staring down at his gently rippled reflection in the water. A grimace seems to be permanently etched onto his expression whenever he’s in the presence of his overbearing mother or pesky new bride, creating creases in his skin that shall surely remain for the rest of his living days.

As he looks down upon himself under the soft moonlight, he can only see the miserable face of a young man trapped in the cage of a legacy, unable to free himself from the heavy chains of expectation and tradition. Tonight, though, those chains bear an even greater weight for the young royal.

You're all he desires in life, the only thing he wishes to seek out and fight for. Not the kingdom of Alderaan, not his new bride, not even his mother; it’s you. And now, he’s forever bound to the wrong woman, restrained yet again by the rigid ways of his family’s traditions.

What if he no longer wants to be Prince?

A hollow footstep on the stone courtyard startles him from his thoughts and he turns around to gaze upon the intruder of his serene privacy.

“I believeth thy new bride is awaiting that lady marital bedding.”

His expression softens upon the sight of you striding towards him, turning fully around to properly face you as you stand before him. He holds your smaller hands in his much larger ones.

“The lady shalt beest waiting for an eternity, then. I am doubtful of that lady did suppose pureness, if 't be true i am truthful.”

The two of you laugh softly together at his comment.

“I wanteth nay other, Y/N, only thee.”

You offer the crown prince a sad smile. “And I only desire thee, Kylo, but we simply cannot beest together. I am mistress in waiting to thy mother, the queen, and ye art did set to becometh king. 't is 'gainst the laws of the land and we shalt certes beest hanged if 't be true anyone ever did discover our love affair.”

He sighs, forehead pressing against yours as he looks longingly into your eyes. “I wish things wast not this way, yond people couldst beest free to marry for love, not for status or bloodlines.”

“Me too.” You lean into him, bringing your mouth up to hover over his, and his down to meet yours. Warm, gentle wafts of his breath smooth out across your lips and you give a soft whimper in response, pressing yourself further against him. “Telleth me all thee would do to have me as thy bride, Kylo.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper, considering you’re barely able to breathe through your nose by now, with your face practically smashed up against him, but that’s the absolute last thing you give thought to at a moment like this. He opens his mouth and lazily attempts to capture you in a kiss, fingertips pressing harder into your sides.

“Gods, I would doth aught for thee. I would giveth up mine coronet, mine legacy for thy handeth.”

Slowly, your arms slither up around the back of his neck, feeling a familiar heat rising and bubbling in your nether regions. “Telleth me more.”

He’s practically slobbering over you now, so desperate to press his lips unto yours. The hunger surges through him as he pulls you flush against him.

“I would square for thee, square anyone for thy love to belong to only me. I would drop of sorrow mine bloody, beating heart out of mine own chest for thee.”

Your pulse throbs neath your flesh, the upbeat tempo of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You sigh into his open mouth, hand coming up to grab hold of his silky hair.

“Moo.”

Suddenly, he sweeps you up off your feet and instantly presses you against the side of the nearest structure, effectively caging you in with his massive form. He snarls softly, pinning you even further into the wall, forcing a quiet gasp from your lips.

“By gods, Y/N, I would killeth for thee.”

You tighten your grip in his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. He returns the embrace with eager lips, tongue prodding and exploring every cavern of your mouth. His pelvis presses right up against your lower abdomen, rubbing his stiffening length up against you.

“Kylo.” A sigh pushes its way through your pursed lips as Kylo’s head dips down, lips pecking at the taut skin on your neck.

“Did shalt we runneth hence together. I wanteth to declare our love to the kingdom tonight.” His face lights up as he holds yours in his massive hands, smiling. “I’m sick of hiding in the shadows, sick of having to keepeth myself hence from thee.”

You’re riddled with worry over this sudden decision, rubbing the strong upper arms of your lover. “Art thee sure? This idea worries me greatly, mine sweeting. What if 't be true we receiveth did doth catch? They wilt throweth us in the dungeons for sure; our destiny wilt beest but soft decaying down thither until death showeth us mercy.”

“I don’t care. Allow me to prove all I would doth for thy love and for thy handeth, Y/N. I wilt taketh care of thee, I wilt at each moment maketh sure thee hath't everything thee couldst ever needeth and moo. And we wilt beest together, beest free to love one another at last. Who is't cares whither we art or what our fates wilt beest? We can finally beest together without restrictions, punishments or secrecy.” He presses you further up against the wall, lips parallel to your ear. “Mine life isn't worth living if 't be true thou art not by mine side. Wilt thee runneth hence with me?”

Simply just the thought of that makes your stomach go a flutter, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your eyes flicker up to meet his once more, hands cradling his handsomely carved face.

“I trust thee, kylo, thither's few or none will entertain it path thee decideth to taketh; I wilt remain by thy side. If 't be true thee wish to telleth the kingdom, then I wilt telleth those folk 'longside thee. If 't be true thee wish to runneth hence from this lodging, then I wilt runneth with thee.”

Kylo pulls you close for one more embrace, then guides you along back up to the party. Acidic nerves begins to crawl up your throat as the two of you draw nearer and nearer to the bustling ballroom.

Instantly, the Queen rushes over to her estranged son with a frustrated frown on her face. “Whither on earth hath't thee been?! Thy bride hath been by herself all night waiting for thee to returneth!”

He takes your hand. “The lady is not mine bride, mother, not anymore. Y/n is mine bride, and we don't care what everyone thinkest of our forbidden love. I've grown did tire of trying to prithee, of trying to followeth all of the traditions of our family. I wanteth to marry for love, not for the continuation of our lineage, and i intend to doth so with mine beloved.”

Now, people have begun to look onto the unfolding situation, finding it far more interesting than the festivities. Leia’s eyes search her son’s, then flicker over to glare into yours. A shiver swipes down your spine at her gaze of hatred.

“Thee've poisoned mine son. Callet!”

This gets the attention of even more patrons and suddenly, every single set of eyes are focused on where you stand. You wish to simply crumble in this moment, become one with the Earth in order to escape their accusatory stares.

“How dare thee speaketh of mine beloved in such a manner?! Didn't thee heareth what I did doth sayeth? We don't care what thee bethink of us, what any of thee bethink of us. We wilt beest together, coequal if 't be true 't doth take every single moment of mine life to achieve.”

The room is completely still and scarily quiet, not a single shift in position or breath can be heard in this moment. Leia stands up straight to look up into her son’s eyes. “I at each moment did knoweth thee wast nev'r did cullionly to beest in this family. I'm ashamed to hath't thee as a son.”

Patrons begin to stir and an angry unrest drapes itself atop the crowd.

“Throweth those folk in the dungeons!“ One says.

“Death to the coronet prince!“ Another exclaims.

From the very back of the room, another voice pops up. “Traitors!“

Suddenly, Kylo yanks you towards the stairs, breaking out in a full sprint.

“Runneth anon, mine love! We wilt hence!”

Your precious shoes fly off your feet as you run behind him. “Kylo! Mine shoes hath't cometh off! What am I to doth?”

He’s quick to scoop you up and carry you in his arms, breath steadily growing heavier with your added weight. He runs all the way down to the stables and seizes a tacked horse, mounting the perplexed creature swiftly.

“Taketh mine handeth. Doth not fear, for our future awaits, mine beloved.”

With a bright and hopeful smile, you take his hand willingly, the wind catching your hair as rhythmic hoof-falls carry you off to your new life, one you get to spend with the love of your life.

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Messed up

*gif is not mine*

Kinktober day 5 - face sitting

Note - This is a sequel to past self. But can be read as a stand alone as well I think. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Summary - Steve messed up and he's determined to make it upto you.

Warnings - 18+ only please, smut (m/f), daddy kink, age gap.

Pairing - Nomad!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 3.4k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

“No.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

You weren’t used to being told no, at least not after you used your secret weapon, if he was anything like his best pal it has to work. Blinking and fluttering your lashes you broke out your Disney princess eyes, “Buck buck, please let me braid your hair,” you cooed.

He stared at you, his lips pressed in a thin line, “Fine,” he sighed finally, giving in.

You squealed, running off to your bedroom to get a brush.

“I remember I used to braid my friends hair at sleepovers, it was such fun,” you said, dividing a strand of his hair in three parts, one over the other, “Before I got my powers anyway, after that they’d all just be scared of me...” you trailed off.

“Steve’s excited to see you,” he told you after a beat of silence.

He had only been living with you for a week or so, it was surprising how close he already felt to you. You had a certain vulnerability that made him want to protect you. That and it was obvious how far gone Steve was for you. You were down so he had to say something to cheer you up.

“Wait what?” your hands stopped, “He’s coming here?”

“Yeah, he left yesterday. Should be here this evening. He wanted it to be a surprise.”

You took a sharp breath, remembering how he had so cruelly rejected you and sent you off to Wakanda just so he wouldn’t have to deal with you.

He abandoned you.

“I don’t want to meet him. I’ll stay over at Shuri’s, she wanted to have a girls night anyway,” you grumbled.

After you had gushed your love for them, baking brownies in your jammies and talking about boys while watching chick flicks, she seemed curious and fascinated, wanting to try one with you.

He hummed at that. He knew something had went down between the two of you, Steve said so himself, ‘I have a lot to make up for.’ He was curious as to how his clueless friend had messed up, but it wasn’t his place to ask.

Which is why he brought Steve to the cottage he shared with you. Listening to him talking about all the missions in Europe and Russia, how he was excited to see you, how he had missed him terribly. Bucky told him he spends his time taking care of his new goat and his beautiful cat. They often keep him occupied.

“Y/N said that I’m ‘totally a cat person’,” his lips curling up at how you had helped him pick a name for her.

“Hm, that’s true. Are you... you live with her... are you two close?” Steve stumbled over his words, his jaw clenching as he stared his dear friend down. He was more than happy to see him, but couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the thought of you getting too cosy with him.

“In a way,” he smirked. “She’s a bit upset with you, just a heads up.”

“Yeah, I know, I deserve it,” he hung his head.

His palms shaky as they both entered the small cottage, going over what he would say to you. You were sitting on the couch in the, your feet propped up on it as you flipped through a magazine.

“You’re home early,” you smiled as you looked up at him. Your sweet smile turning into a frown when you saw him.

“Hey there, doll,” he rubbed the back of his neck.

You slapped the magazine on the couch, standing to your feet, your arms over your chest. “Captain,” you spat

His heart ached at that. He knew you were upset but to have you be so hostile to him, he didn’t know if he could take it.

He could easy handle being tortured by hydra agents but not this.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Bucky interrupted you both before taking off to find his cat, who knew where Alpine had wandered off to this time.

You both stood awkwardly, a few feet away from each other while you looked anywhere but his eyes, refusing to even look at him.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“Fine, I guess,” you mumbled, finally looking up, “as fine as I can be after being shrugged off like yesterday’s news.”

“Honey,” he took a step towards you but then stopped in his tracks when you backed away. “I’m sorry, I made a terrible mistake. I.. just couldn’t deal with my feelings, I thought I’d be taking advantage of you.”

You scoffed, “Taking advantage of me? Really? I’m not a child! I can decide for myself what’s good for me and what’s not.”

“I know that now. But... you’re so young and I’m supposed to be looking out for you and helping you,” he tried to reason with you while you shook your head in disbelief.

“Right, because you’re Captain America. Everyone should just do whatever you say. You always know what’s best, unlike us mere mortals,” you rolled your eyes.

He was in front of you in just two long strides, his brows furrowed and his patience running thin. “I’m not Captain America anymore,” he reminded you as he inhaled your soothing scent.

“You’ll always be Captain America he’s a part of you. And I’ll... never be good enough for you.” You stared at the henley stretched out over his broad chest, willing yourself to resist the urge to hug him. Him standing so close to you, you could inhale his unique scent you had grown to love so much.

“What?” he frowned. “Where did you get that idea?” It was absolutely ludicrous. He would have to pay a visit to whoever it was that said that to you.

“It’s the truth... that’s why you don’t want me. And I don’t blame you.” Why would someone like him be interested in you anyway.

“Doll,” he cupped your cheeks, tilting you’d head up to make you look at him, “I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you. I mean look at me.”

You arched a brow, giving him a once over before looking at his blue orbs again, his strong jaw covered in a thick beard, long locks that feel so silky in your hands, “You look like you belong on the cover of GQ, and before you have to ask, I’ll spell it out for you, since you’re like a thousand years old - GQs a magazine with pretty people on it.”

“I didn’t always look like this. I used to be very small, smaller than you.”

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled. “I’ve seen pictures, you were adorable.”

“Would you believe me if I told you a secret?”

“Yeah...” you’d believe him if he told you the sky was falling. Steve never lied.

“I love you,” he confessed as your jaw dropped, “I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. And I might not deserve you but if you consider me worthy of you, then I’d... like to have you.”

Your breath hitched as you stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “Wh - really? Nobody’s ever said that to me,” you blinked as tears started welling up in your eyes.

“I love you more than life itself. And I have a feeling that we will end up together,” he grinned.

“Well, don’t get too cocky now, I haven’t said yes yet,” you slapped his chest.

He grazed his fingers over your knuckles before holding your smaller hand in his, “So? What do you think?”

“I think... if you hurt me again I’ll punch you so hard. And my punches are much better now, thanks to Bucky, he’s been teaching me lots of stuff.”

“Never,” he shook his head, “I’d never hurt you. You’re so precious,” he kissed your knuckles.

“And you’d never leave me again,” you wanted it to be a fierce demand but your pout made it more of a needy request.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again. We’re partners. Captain America is gone. It’s just you and me now,” he promised.

You blinked your tears away, standing on your tippy toes to place a lingering kiss to his soft plump lips.

Smiling as you pulled away, you grabbed his hand, leading him to your bedroom.

“Where are we going, doll?” he chuckled, holding onto your hips and pulling your back against his chest, attacking your neck with a flurry of kisses, unable to keep his hands off of you for even a moment.

Your squirmed in his hold, “To the bedroom. Just in case Bucky comes back,” you let out a giggle when he blew a raspberry in the crook of your neck, which then quickly turned into a moan as he sucked a mark on it.

Somehow, you managed to drag him to your small bedroom, if he had his way you’d have fucked in the hallway.

Straddling his lap on your twin bed, which looked much smaller now, what with a super soldier on top of it.

Kissing him deeply, you pulled away, breathless but only to say, “I love you, too, this is just too good to be true,” you heaved.

“A lot of unbelievable things have been happening to me lately,” he pulled you back, groaning into your mouth as you rolled your hips against his crotch. Looking at you sternly, “Doll,” he warned you.

“Please,” you whined, humping his growing erection through his jeans and your thin shorts, you could feel your panties getting wet with your arousal. “I want you, so bad,” you kept rolling your hips till he stopped you by digging his fingers in them.

“This is not how it’s done... I’m supposed to take you out on dates and buy you flowers and chocolates - ” he choked on a moan as you palmed him through his pants.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he gritted, snaking his fingers in your short shorts, he brushed his fingers over your weeping folds. “You want me?” he asked as you desperately nodded your head. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

You gulped, looking into his eyes and opening your mouth to answer him, his intense gaze intimidating you as you hid your face in his neck, “You know...”

“What?” he asked again, “I’m like over a thousand years old, I’m rusty, you have to tell me,” he teased you, swirling your juices around on your soft petals.

He wasn’t rusty. He had been with 'you' just a week ago, only it wasn’t you. This would be your first time with him but not his with you. It was still strange, he couldn’t really wrap his head around it or bring himself to care.

“I want you... to.. to make love to me,” you said.

“You know I would never say no to you, sweetheart,” he kissed your hair, retracting his hand from your shorts he sucks your juices off his fingers, you taste the same.

You helped him as he rolled your shorts and your panties down your legs, pulling your tank top up and tossing it away. You fumbled, making yourself small and covering yourself up with your arms. But he wasn’t having any of it, he pinned your hands behind your back, latching onto your nipple.

“I’m...,” you gasped as he bit your hardened bud, bunching his henley up in your hand, “you’re wearing too making clothes,” you complained.

“Then why don’t you help me take them off, doll?”

Your eager hands pulled him out his pesky clothes, hiding his magnificent physique from you. You had seen him shirtless a handful of times, while dressing his wounds, but you always stared at him in awe. He did look like he was made in a laboratory.

You knelt before him, between his legs, eager to find out if he tastes as good as he looks.

He tried to stop you but you swatted his hands away, “You’ll hurt your knees, doll,” he reasoned.

You snorted, wrapping your hand around his thick girth, “I thought we were partners. I won’t have you treat me like I’m some damsel in distress again.”

He pouted, pulling at your kiss swollen bottom lip with his thumb, “That’s too bad because I’m always going to take care of you, especially now that I’m your man.”

You rolled your eyes, he really was getting ahead of himself, he’ll have to do a lot more to prove himself before you accept him as ‘your man’.

But you decide to let that go for now, instead focusing on his cock glistening with precum, peaking your tongue out to taste some of it and swirling your tongue around on his bulbous head.

“Don’t tease, doll,” he groaned, holding onto the back of your head, not really pushing but to urge you to take more of him because he was at the end of his rope, feeling as if he’d burst right there.

You pushed away at his hand, “I’m in control,” you stated, “no touching till I say so. Is that understood?”

He didn’t care, he just wanted you to stop your cruelty and put your mouth on him so he simply nodded, not knowing if he could actually keep the promise.

With a victorious smile you wrapped your mouth around his head, leisurely sucking on it, moaning at the taste of him before taking in as much as you could, pumping the rest of his length, fondling his balls with the other hand.

He was about to touch your perky breasts, but then remembered your ridiculous ‘no touching' rule so he ran a hand through his head hair, wiping the sheen of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“God that mouth of yours,” he growled when you pulled him out with a loud ‘pop’.

A string of saliva connecting your lips to him, “I want you to come in my mouth,” you instructed.

“You want to swallow daddys cum?” he couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the incredulous look on his face.

“Who would’ve known... Steven 'golden boy’ Rogers, of all people...” you shook your head, a small smile on your face as you thought about the times you had called him that in your head while rubbing one out to the thought of him.

You pressed your lips to the vein on the underside of his cock, sucking on it, “You’re going to come in my mouth, daddy, and stay there until I swallow all of it,” you told him, if only to remind him that you were in control, even if he ‘convinced' you to call him that.

You lightly scraped your teeth over his length before swallowing around him, gagging a bit as you tried to take more of him, but it seemed impossible to fit him whole no matter how hard your tried.

“I’ll try,” he teased, releasing a shaky exhale, his balls tightening in your palm as he held onto the sheets, painting the back of your throat with ropes of his spend.

You swallowed all of him, suckling on his length till you felt him softening in your mouth, you opened your mouth to show him, “Told you I’d swallow it all,” you licked your lips, just in case you missed anything.

“You’re such a good girl.” He praised, cupping your head and leaning down to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips. Easily picking you up and flipping you so that you were on your back, he spread your thighs, licking his lips as he caught a glimpse of your cunt. “What do you want to do now, sweetheart?” he asked again.

You whimpered, mumbling nonsense but you knew, once Steve set his mind to something it was impossible to convince him otherwise. He was really gonna make you say it out loud. “I want your mouth on me,” you turned your head to the side, shutting your eyes, completely flustered.

He dove in for his prize, giving your bundle of nerves a soft kiss before smearing your juices around your cunt with his fingers, prodding one at your entrance he plunged it in, your walls hugging it so wonderfully, “You’re so tight, all for me...” he blew a breath of air on it, kissing the soft patch of hair on top of your mould.

You were much too delirious to think of anything but his fingers teasing you, his lips pressing butterfly kisses to your thighs, his hands massaging your titts, but you vaguely heard him call out your name.

“What?” you rasped, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Come, sit on my face. You said you wanted to be in control,” he shrugged.

“Wh - what... do you even know how that works?” you heaved. You had never done something like that before, while it sounds enticing, it would be impractical... maybe...

“I thought they had like two sex positions in the forties. The missionary, and uh...”

He shushed you, “I’ve never been a prude, you should know that by now,” lying on his back, he felt his dick hardening again and aching for any kind of attention from you, but he’d have to take care of you first.

“Come here...” He held onto your hips, pulling you up till you were over his mouth, “Take what you need, doll.”

You hummed, running your drenched pussy over his face, a shiver went up your spine at the feel of his coarse bread on your sensitive skin, “I can’t,” you mewled.

“Yes, you can, doll. Come on, be good for your daddy,” he spurred you on.

Taking a deep breath, you held onto the headboard, arching your back as he wrapped his mouth around your bundle of nerves, you started grinding your hips over him, soon getting accustomed and even liking the burn his glorious beard gave you.

“I’m gonna... come, daddy,” your voice breathy, your hand massaging your breast as you gushed around his beard.

You held onto the board, trying to catch your breath, your other hand in his long locks as he kept lapping you up.

You shuddered as you crawled down his body, hovering over his hard cock which was pressing against his taut stomach. You spread your lips with your fingers, peaking up to see him looking at you with dark, lust ridden eyes, coating him in your juices by running your clit up and down his length.

It was too much for your sensitive clit to be rubbing against the velvety skin of his cock but not nearly enough for him.

He digs his nails into your hips, growling, “Get on with it,” he held onto the base of his length, nudging your lips aside before plunging into your heat.

“Oh,” you gulped, trying to sink your hips down on him but even after all that preparation he was too big for you.

“You’re so small, doll,” he smiled, noticing your evident struggle as he caressed your cheek, his eyes fixed on you trying to take him in, “is it too hard?”

You nodded, “I can still do it though,” still so eager to please him...

“You don’t have to. You’ve done so much already, you must be tired.”

You opened your mouth, to argue that he was the one who had taken a long journey to get here, but he circled a hand around your waist, bringing you down, flush against his chest.

“You just lay there and let me do the work, okay, sweetheart?” you whimpered but nodded with your cheek pressed to his heart as he thrusted deep into you.

“Okay, daddy, I’ll try,” you murmured, tears streaming down your cheek when he brushed against your sweet spot.

He stopped his hips when he heard you son, “You all right, doll?” he asked, looking down at you.

“Yes, it’s just so good, please don’t stop,” you requested.

And he had promised to never say no to you so he kept fucking up into your tight hole, whispering sweet words to you, telling you just how good you were at taking him, how well you were doing.

“My one and only,” he kissed your head as you cried into his chest, clenching around his cock. Triggering his own climax as he came inside you, staying inside you even after he was done.

Content with knowing that you’ll be his forever.

As long as he doesn’t fuck up again...

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to join the taglist.

I guess that was cheating because the face sitting was just a small part of it😅😅 But I hope you still liked it! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated💖💖 I'll try to write one more part with jealous endgame!Steve.

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #kinktober #marvel kinktober

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what-i-call-men · 3 years

Text

Summoned

James Patrick March x GN reader

(I tried to go as gender neutral as possible with this)

Warnings: murder mention, not much otherwise just a bit of fighting then fluff with Mr. murder :)

Requested: by me for my fic thoughts “Another free fic thought for tonight! (Wow two in one night isn’t that much of a surprise) anyways the reader and James are dating, but have an agreement that on Halloween they get to go out and have a party/clubbing or just in general where James wouldn’t go. He summons them in the middle of devils night and they shows up wearing like a club outfit, in the middle of dancing too. They get in a fight over their agreement. Could be angst or smut or whatever”

(Pic is not mine)

You had come into the hotel purely on a whim. You had been searching out a place to stay because your relative you’d come to visit had kicked you out over some stupid disagreement. You’d come to the hotel in hopes of a cheap room with whatever money you had. Luckily enough you were able to get a room for a good enough price. Sadly though, you had been chosen that night by one of the monsters that lived in that hotel to be their victim of the night. Luckily though you were barely awake long enough to retain who it was.

For a few days after, you had walked down to the bar to talk to Liz and another woman you met named Sally, obviously there had been some others in there you’d met but Liz and Sally were the main ones usually at the bar. Although on a few nights you’d see a man come down from the elevator and sit further down the bar. Sometimes he’d be writing or reading something, sometimes he had a blonde woman with him and they’d talk quietly. He never really chose to interact with you so you would shrug it off and talk to Sally about her Instagram instead.

It wasn’t until one night that Sally couldn’t make it that you had instead spent the night with James, quickly hitting it off and soon going back to his room to talk pretty much all night. It wasn’t much long after that you two spent a lot of time together, slowly becoming infatuated with one another. You were murdered during the late 2010s and he was from the 1920s so you obviously had a lot of different outlooks on things.

After a few months of spending most of your time around James, you two became official and months turned into years of being together. About a year into your relationship you’d begun to go to devils night, which was not your choice, you only went for James. But it was the worst night of your life. Now you were fine with James murdering and whatever but his friends were the part you didn’t like. Aileen was really the only okay one in your book.

So you and James settled a deal after you throwing up for about an hour after Jeffery “had his fun”. The deal was that you’d spend the day of his birthday with him, doing whatever he’d like because the two of you could leave the hotel, but at night when he had his dinner party you could go out and celebrate Halloween with Sally and a few others that were more involved in the modern works. It was perfect for the both of you. You were not to disturb him and vice versa.

After a long day of spending James’ birthday walking around town, showing a few different places, but mostly doing some shopping for the two of you, you had gotten ready for your night out. James already had given a few disapproving comments and stares to your skantly clad body. Really you just chalked it up to his jealousy and lack of knowledge of the club scene. “Why don’t you just stay home and drink in the lounge dear? I want to be able to keep an eye on you.” He said as you adjusted your top that left little to the imagination.

“James, dearest, you could always come with us but I think the club scene would kill you again if you weren’t already dead. This outfit is tame compared to other people on Halloween.” You muttered and glanced at yourself in the mirror again. You turned to him, seeing him in his extra formal suit. “I’m going to meet Sally, Tristan and Elizabeth in the lobby.” You said and walked over to his frowning face, giving a quick peck to his cheek as you passed.

“Wait Elizabeth is going? I’m really not sure I’d like you to go out with her.” James walked after you as you made your way out the door. He followed after you and grabbed one of his suit coats, slinging it over your shoulders, a bit to “keep you warm” but also to cover you a bit more than the outfit you wore.

“We settled things James, remember? She’s coming with Will and she is your eyes and ears.” You muttered and pushed the down button for the elevator, turning to give him a longer kiss on the lips as the doors opened. You turned back to the elevator as Aileen walked out of them, flipping her hair back. She made a quick comment and whistle about your look as you got in the machine and closed the doors. “Love you my dear. I’ll see you later. I’ll be home before 3.” You called as the door finally closed.

You hadn’t been gone long into the night, you and Sally really splitting off and hitting the drinks hard as the others stayed reserved. What you hadn’t noticed when you left the hotel was that a witch had checked in for the night to do her spells in a haunted hotel. This was unfortunate for you but very fortunate for James who couldn’t get his mind off you not being in the hotel. His friends had even asked about you and were surprised you were allowed out, considering how possessive and controlling James was.

After enough comments from his friends and the time getting closer to your curfew, James beckoned Miss Evers to get the witch to him. She surprised down the hallways with the witch in tow only to be met with James at the doorway to the gathering. “You need to summon a ghost for me.” He said and there wasn’t much fight from the woman after his commanding tone scared the crap out of her.

You were having the time of your “life”, currently dancing against Sally as the loud music pounded through your chest, she was riding the wave of whatever her drug of choice was for the night. Being a ghost from the 2010s meant at least you knew most of the music and blended in well with the others in the club. Tristian had also come to dance with you and Sally for a bit before finding some other people to dance with.

This was the only downside of dating a man from almost a century ago, you knew he was too molded in his ways to ever join you for something like this. You knew if he even knew what twerking was he’d disapprove of you even thinking about doing it. But you currently were, right against Sally who was also learning to do it, but instead rather enjoying the attention you two drew from those around you.

At the hotel, the witch currently sat in the hallway outside the murderous dinner party, her alter around her and one of your rings that James had gifted you sat right on top of the alter. As she began her spell, you were dancing along with Sally, getting a weird feeling in your chest. You chose to ignore it because you’d already felt a bit guilty leaving James today so you assumed it was just the alcohol and guilt weight heavy on your chest.

As Sally wrapped her scarf around you and danced with it around your shoulders, suddenly the scarf hung loose around the air, and when you opened your eyes, you didn’t see your hypodermic friend, instead a very angry James, and his murder friends behind him, sat at the table. You realized the coat he had given you on your way out was very obviously not on you, instead it sat at the club with Elizabeth where all of your things were left.

You opened your mouth to ask how the hell you got here, glancing to the clock to see that it wasn’t even past 2 am, and it wasn’t the time which had pulled you because because all of James’ friend were still sat at the table. James grabbed your arm to pull you out of the room, but you ripped it from his grasp, a sudden surge of anger coming out. “James, why the hell am I here?” You asked and glared at him.

“You told me you’d be home before 3. And you-“ James began to lecture you and you cut him off. “And you promised i would come home to just you and that i could enjoy myself tonight, but obviously both of those were broken.” You raised your voice back to him and crossed your arms. His face became somehow more angry as you brought him down in front of his dinner party. Aileen let out a small whistle to you fighting against him with a quiet “get em” which was met with a glare from James.

“Y/n lets take this outside.” He said lowly and you huffed. “Oh I’ll take it outside. All the way back to the club with my friends.” You said and walked towards the door, letting yourself out, and stumbling over the alter outside the door. “You fucking summoned me, you asshole. Can’t even trust that I’d be home on time. I’m leaving and I will be home as late as i want.” You yelled back at James and he grabbed your arm properly this time, stopping you in your tracks.

He began to pull you back towards your shared room and when he threw you inside, he slammed the door behind the two of you, guests and friends long forgotten as you two stared at each other. You definitely were a change from the silent obedient women he was used to, and him a change from the lenient and careless men from your life. “Why are you so controlling? You get 364 and a half days with me every year for eternity and i can get that one half of a day in peace doing what I want to do?” You shot at him, but he didn’t respond, just pulled his tie off and his suit coat.

“You don’t just get to dress like that and go dance on other people when you belong to me.” James spat back as he grabbed your upper arm again, pushing you back towards your shared bed. “News flash James, we’re in the 21st century and you don’t ‘own’ me. Because I am forced to spend eternity here I wanted to make the best of it and spend it with someone who I enjoy, but until you decide to make a legal commitment to me I am free to be whoever I want.” You shoved yourself away from him as he stood above you, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Letting out a long sigh, James watched you turn to grab a cigarette from his bedside table. “Who said I didn’t want to commit with you, y/n?” He asked in an exasperated sigh. You rummaged around the drawer to search for his matches and looked back to him. “Well for starters, how about your wife? Hmm? How about you on multiple occasions? How about the 2 years of dating and endless arguments how to treat our arrangement with your wife and her boy toys?” You muttered as you couldn’t find a matchbook, now looking back to the drawer.

You paused and gently picked up a small box you hadn’t seen in the drawer before. “James-“ he cut you off and walked to the drawer, catching your attention. “I wanted to ask you earlier while we were out but the ring itself wasn’t ready until after you left for the night.” He muttered and grabbed it from your hands. “I would’ve been more comfortable if people out in the world knew who’s you were. And the arrangement with Elizabeth is over, she can live her life separate from us.” He said and you could barely comprehend his words through your head spinning.

You dropped the unlit cigarette to the ground, instead opting to grab him in a big hug, pulling him down to you. Your makeup definitely was smudged as he pulled away to open the box. “May I at least ask the question? I’ve been planning this.” He unwrapped himself from your arms, using his hand to help you stand up, and lowered himself to kneel before you. His speech was full of plenty of reassuring words, also euphemisms about how death was the thing to bring you two together and bring new life to each other. Your own thought were drowning in love for the ring and the man before you. It was dainty yet plenty jeweled with his own initials being engraved on the sides. It now sat on your finger, you pulling his own lips to yours.

Your solid kiss was soon interrupted by a knock on the door and an exasperated Sally at the door, holding your things in her arms. She paused as you stayed in James’ arms. “Oh thank god we’re not in deep shit.” She muttered and James tapped your back gently. “Go back out but be home soon.” He said lowly. You smiled and looked to the ring on your finger. “I love you.” You whispered and he kissed you before you ran back out after Sally.

#james march #james patrick march #james march x reader #james Patrick march fluff #ahs hotel #fic thoughts fulfilled

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i-am-finally-clean-13 · 3 years

Text

Taylor Swift Songs by Hogwarts Houses

Many people in the younger generations describe their personalities based on their Hogwarts houses, so I thought it would be fun to divide @taylorswift's songs into Hogwarts houses. Based on my own determinations, I've decided that Taylor Swift's music primarily fits into Ravenclaw, with Slytherin as a very close second. So now, without further ado, here are Taylor's songs sorted into Hogwarts houses.

GRYFFINDOR:

As we all know, Gryffindors are described as being brave, daring, and valiant. These songs are the brave ones, the ones that really took a chance. Many of these songs are bold and exciting, with very strong themes. Of all of Taylor's albums, I decided that Speak Now and 1989 are the ones that could be classified as Gryffindor.

Tied Together with a Smile

Our Song

I Heart ?

Fearless

White Horse

You're Not Sorry

Jump Then Fall

Come in with the Rain

Sparks Fly

Enchanted

Better Than Revenge

Innocent

Haunted

Superman

Red

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

I Know Places

Wonderland

You are in Love

New Romantics

End Game

So It Goes...

Getaway Car

Dress

Cruel Summer

Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince

Death by a Thousand Cuts

Soon You'll Get Better

Exile

Betty

Willow

Long Story Short

You All Over Me

That's When

Bye Bye Baby

HUFFLEPUFF:

Hufflepuffs are considered reliable, loyal, hardworking, and kind. To determine which songs were sorted into Hufflepuff, I chose more optimistic songs, ones that were peppier and tended to be happier - but not all of them. These songs really show Taylor's loyalty and the bubblier aspects of her personality. But that doesn't mean all of these songs are happy and bubbly. There are some sad songs in here too, but they depict her softer, gentler, more loyal personality traits. Lover is the only album I would classify as being truly Hufflepuff.

Teardrops on My Guitar

Stay Beautiful

Mary's Song (Oh My My My

I'm Only Me When I'm With You

Fifteen

The Best Day

Superstar

Today Was A Fairytale

Mine

Speak Now

Mean

Never Grow Up

Ours

Stay Stay Stay

Everything Has Changed

The Moment I Knew

All You Had to Do was Stay

I Wish You Would

This Love

Clean

Delicate

Gorgeous

King of My Heart

New Year's Day

Lover

Paper Rings

London Boy

Afterglow

Me!

Daylight

Mirrorball

Seven

Invisible String

Dorotha

Right Where You Left Me

SLYTHERIN:

Slytherins are normally described as cunning and ambitious. The songs I chose to sort into Slytherin tend to be darker and angrier. These songs show Taylor's ambition and tend to show just how good she is at what she does. These songs exude confidence and charisma more so than the other songs she has put out. Taylor Swift (her debut album), Fearless (both the original and Taylor's Version), and Reputation are albums I would consider to be Slytherin.

Picture to Burn

A Place in this World

The Outside

Should've Said No

A Perfectly Good Heart

Hey Stephen

You Belong with Me

Tell Me Why

The Way I Loved You

Forever & Always (both the original and the piano versions)

Change

Untouchable

The Other Side of the Door

Dear John

Long Live

State of Grace

I Knew You Were Trouble

I Almost Do

The Last Time

The Lucky One

Girl at Home

Out of the Woods

Bad Blood

...Ready for It?

I Did Something Bad

Look What You Made Me Do

Dancing with Our Hands Tied

I Think He Knows

You Need to Calm Down

The 1

August

Illicit Affairs

Mad Woman

Gold Rush

No Body, No Crime

Cowboy Like Me

Closure

Mr. Perfectly Fine

RAVENCLAW:

Ravenclaws are classified by their intelligence, cleverness, wit, and creativity, so it goes without saying that the majority of Taylor Swift songs will fall into Ravenclaw. These are the songs that you can tell she put a lot of thought into - whether they have bigger words, or are just more creative. These songs tend to create a clear image in my head when I hear them, and I can really put myself into her shoes with each one. These are some of her best songs, her most creative, and her most intelligent and witty songs. Of her albums, Red, Folklore, and Evermore are the ones I would classify as Ravenclaw.

Tim McGraw

Cold as You

Invisible

Love Story

Breathe

Back to December

The Story of Us

Last Kiss

If This was a Movie

Treacherous

All Too Well

Holy Ground

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Starlight

Come Back... Be Here

Welcome to New York

Blank Space

Wildest Dreams

How You Get the Girl

Don't Blame Me

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Call It What You Want

I Forgot That You Existed

The Man

The Archer

Cornelia Street

False God

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Cardigan

The Last Great American Dynasty

My Tears Ricochet

This Is Me Trying

Epiphany

Peace

Hoax

The Lakes

Champagne Problems

'Tis the Damn Season

Tolerate It

Happiness

Coney Island

Ivy

Marjorie

Evermore

It's Time to Go

We Were Happy

Don't You

#taylor swift #taylornation #taylurking #fearless #speak now #red #1989 #reputation #lover #folklore #evermore #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #hogwarts #harry potter

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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

you belong with me- thomas

this is thomas’s pov. i like doing both pov (i dont know if you can tell) but there are a few things im working on but enjoy!

“How could-? Are you even hearing yourself speak you fool? No- no. God, you know what I'm done.” I throw my phone on the bed, scaring Sir Issac in the process. I cringe even as I begin pacing back and forth. It was truly absurd, utterly crazy, that William lived in such a world where he would ever consider me being with anyone but Audrey Rose. Whilst we weren’t together per say, it was clear there would be no one else for me. The fact that he had already caused trouble for us once makes this even more irritating. I turn and find Audrey Rose already watching me. Her hair disheveled in a messy bun which tells me she is studying or researching something. I give her what I hope classifies as a smile and watches as she pulls out a familiar notebook, searches for her pen and then writes: Are you okay?

Of course she would ask if I'm okay and not what happened; using our absurd way of talking to each other instead of using the window or even messaging me. I shake my head but smile and make my way towards my window. The wind hits me, sending my hair flying but I embrace the fresh air as I watch her move herself off her bed, cursing at her stiff legs. She has been there most of the day, not moving and lost in her work and music. She curses once more as she hits her elbow on the window sill and she looks truly adorable. “You have a wicked mouth Wadsworth. Did you not learn cursing is unlady-like?” I try to ignore the other thoughts I have of her mouth.

“Fuck you,” she scowls at me. It always makes me smile hearing her curse, she always sounds confident in them somehow, making them seem so real. The first time she swore was the time she failed a science test. Well, not exactly a fail, but she was marked wrong by a substitute teacher who didn't like her so she decided to berate him in front of the whole class, starting with her shouting ‘bullshit!’ as soon as she saw her results.

“I assume dear wadsworth, you want to ask what has made me so irate?” As much as I would rather climb across the gap and make her watch another one of my romance films again instead of talk about it, I know that I should. Otherwise it'll eat at my mind when I go to sleep. As well as it being used against wadsworth in some way too.

“Perhaps,” she says, eyes sparkling with mischief as she rests her head on the wall and brings her knees to her chest, “perhaps I merely wanted to ask if Sir Issac was okay.” I nearly burst out laughing at her. She has a love hate relationship with my cat. She pretends to hate the ‘beast’ but will often let him sit on her lap or pet him whenever she is over here. When I first got him, she stayed round mine for the night and we settled him. Even then she had tried to pretend not to like him but she doesn’t remember that she fell asleep with him curled up next to her. I had to sleep on my chair because they were sprawled out, surrounded by her work.

“Really? You always refer to him as a little pest, whereas as with me, I am your dearest person, of course you want to know how I am feeling. My son is good though, very energetic today.” Said cat brushes against me and I look at him, the memory still clear in my mind. Yet I know I need to stop avoiding the problem, Audrey Rose is too kind to push me into telling her, and will let me avoid it for as long as I need. It is not the worst thing we’ve faced yet I still hate it.

“I assume you saw the call, well that was William,” she nods, her face already falling at the mention of his name, “Yes, awful. Apparently though, there is a rumor that I'm with Miss whitehall. I don't even remember her first name, but he was convinced of our relation despite my protests. Madness.” I scoff at the sheer audacity of him and his friends. Sir Issac nuzzles into me, knowing that I'm upset and wanting to change that. As well get attention.

“Is this the same William that had convinced everyone I was dating him?”

“Yes.” Anger rolls through me at the memory of that disaster. What hurt Audrey Rose the most is that she truly thought he was a friend. She’d explained that with me she didn't try, but everyone else she had too, so when they'd fallen into easy conversations during lessons she really enjoyed having someone other than me and lize and her uncle to talk to.

“Bitch. Why on earth is he such a problem? Where on earth does he even make this assumptions about us?'' She begins pacing, her mind working faster than her steps as she no doubt recalls everything that happened. I am inclined to do the same. I can still remember her walking into her room, looking at me and falling apart. I climbed into her room and held her letting her calm before she spoke to me. I cried as well, slightly, knowing how much that friendship had meant to her. I'd made us watch a really cheesy film and she'd fallen asleep in my arms.

“I have never once,”I say to drag her back to the present “shown interest in her, nor will I ever.” I drag a hand through my hair. “She's just- a lot.” the first time id met her she was just very loud and demanding, I couldn't stand her. I'd watched her insult so many people for being themselves, for liking childish things, or in Audrey Rose's case, morbid things.

“That is the understatement of the year Cresswell. Besides, you wouldn’t work, she's too- your,” she falls silent, either lost in thought or not wanting to tell me those thoughts. Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink and I smile. She doesn't meet my eye as she sits herself down and I raise my brows as she asks what? As though she didn’t just show me that she has many inappropriate thoughts about me. She curls herself into a ball, hiding in her oversized hoodie, which is mine that I'm not sure she realizes is.

“I’m what? I'd be delighted to know your innermost thoughts of me, Wadsworth.”

“You're absurd but fine I'll elaborate,” she rolls her eyes though, even as the pink deepens slightly. Her eyes focused on my own. So I face her fully, like an astute student in class dying to seek knowledge, “you're too kind, too witty and clever and Whitehall wouldn’t appreciate you enough. You-” she stops talking immediately, as though whatever is in her mind she cant voice. Her face twists into something unreadable and I get the sense that she would rather not ever speak about me being with someone other than her.

“You forgot to mention how handsome I look, or how charming I am, but I'll take it,” she suppresses an eye roll and her smile and ignores the way my voice deepens ever so slightly. I pat Sir Issac off me and earn a whine but he jumps off me. I reach out to her and she leans, her hair ripping free of her bun with little effort from the wind. Her dark curls cling to her face, framing her perfectly too. It makes me want to hold her face in her hands and kiss her deeply.

“I don’t need to inflate your ego further Thomas.”

She inflates my ego every time she smiles at me, whether that be because of my joke or simply smiling at me because I am her friend. “I know but it would've been nice. I did say the inner most thoughts but we’ll get there. Audrey rose-I don’t belong with her, you’re right, my heart would never belong to her especially since it already belongs to someone else.”

She blinks at me, her face falling flat. Silence falls over us and I realize she thinks I'm talking about someone else. And idea forms, one that she may hate me for but one I'm going to do anyway.

“I-” she begins, no doubt going to tell me she wants me to be happy without whomever I'm with. I stand before she can say anything and she stares at me for a second so I motion for her to move. I want to be able to hold her and be next to her. I climb over and set myself on her window sill, leaving enough space for her on the other side. “I hope you are happy with whomever has your heart Cresswell.” I try to hide my smirk at her. Preparing myself for the worst. Preparing myself for her calling me an idiot and that she doesn't like me that way. I wouldn’t blame her.

“Of course I'll be happy. She's amazing. Let me tell you all about her. I met her many years back and was instantly smitten with her emerald eyes and her quick witted mind. How she sings to herself every morning and how her dark curls fall across her face whenever she sits on her bed and reads. I adore her curiosity for the dead and how wicked her mouth is and how delightful it is to watch your mind at work. I love when she shows me a note through the window to see if I'm doing okay and-”

“Wait,” she blurts out, her cheeks red now and eyes bright with shock, “Thomas, are you talking about me?”

I can’t help but laugh. She is one of the smartest people I have ever met yet she, just like I do, struggles with social cues sometimes. Albeit it she is better than I will ever be. “Yes, finally! I thought I'd have to keep speaking forever till you realized it was you.” Not that that would be a problem. As of right now I'd happily list the way her eyes are filled with both relief and shock and happiness and it's a look I want to capture whenever I need a reminder of something good in life.

She scowls at me, ignoring her blush. I take a risk and reach out my hand, moving closer so that her back is straightened on the wall, her attention fixed on me completely. No fake scowl or bright smile, just an intent gaze I can't quite pick apart. I rest my hand on her leg, now free of her (my) hoodie. “Wadsworth, darling, I have been in love with you for some time now.”

I stare at my best friend, my love, as she tries to convince herself this is real. It's truly adorable. Then her eyes widen slightly as she whispers: “I have something to show you.”

She jumps from my grip, running the short distance to her bed and then shuffling through the mountain of books and papers sprawled there until she pulls out a notebook and shakes it, letting a piece of paper drop. It's folded and creased a lot, as though it has been opened often. I watch as she faces me and slowly, her face fixed on the sheet as she opens and holds it out to me.

I read the words: I love you.

I love you.

I read them over and over and over, trying to imprint it on my brain. Her delicate handwriting and her confession reaches out to me and I desperately want to reach out to her, hold her against me and press kisses and make her laugh.

Audrey rose takes her seat across from me and I instantly reach out, holding her leg again. Anything to reassure me this is real. “I wrote that the night after you came here the second time.” her voice is soft, her curls once again framing her face as she looks at me, “Something in me clicked that no matter what you'd find a way to comfort me. Not save me, but work alongside me. I wanted to tell you I just couldn't face it. But I needed to acknowledge it. So I wrote it down, and I look at it every time we use the note system; I try to convince myself to show you.” Audrey Rose would never need saving, never want it, yet her words save my own dark heart that she has felt this way for so long, and we have somehow lived alongside each other and been so blinded by our love entwined with fears that it has taken so long to finally acknowledge them.

I debate pinching myself. Only minutes ago was I miserable and upset, yet Audrey Rose has taken her time to cheer me up. Yet even if I had left it as I am fine, even though she knows me better than that, she wouldn't have pressed for answers; would have waited for me to open up. So i lean in and the world stops as we both wait until our lips are pressed together It's a light kiss, one full of promise and wonder. When I lean back we are both smiling so freely my heart feels as though it too is reaching out to hold Audrey rose. We trade kisses, never wanting to leave this loop but I do lean back away from her. I’m already too drunk on her kisses, I need to breathe, to process this so I can remember it. Once my back is against the wall I pull her, twisting so her back is against mine, leaning into my warmth and I rest my head atop hers. Trying to contain my smiles but to no avail. My hand covers hers and as i look down at her i notice she doesn't bother controlling her smile. It is a magnificent sight.

“Now would be a perfect time to tell me how handsome I am, my love.”

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

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Male orc (Vilugh) x male reader (sfw) - Part Two

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This should have gone up on here yesterday, and has been available on my $5 Patreon tier for a week as the fourth ‘early release’ story on Patreon in July (every Wednesday).

You may recall the first chapter that I posted as an unedited WIP (Tumblr link) a while ago and had lots of encouraging comments about and some interest in seeing more from Vilugh and the prince. So, here it is! Sorry it's a bit late - things have just been nuts here lately. I wanted this to be the final chapter, but... plot happened. So... there'll be more in the future!

Content: continuing on from last time where our scholarly prince with the unfathomably dickish king for a father was told he was going to spend six months with the orcs, we see Vilugh again, meet his sister, and finally, get to the encampment. (tw: brief mention of past death of reader’s older brother, and constantly being compared to him by the aforementioned dickish king...)

Wordcount: exactly 4000. *nice*

Part One

To say that I was furious with my father for only deigning to inform me of my new situation for the next six months would have been an understatement. I knew I wasn’t the ruler-son that he’d envisaged taking over from him, but I had thought that my rather impressive record for strategy and tactics spoke for itself, not to mention that I was responsible for almost single-handedly planning and instigating massive economic reforms that not only refilled the monarchy’s gradually-dwindling coffers but promoted trade and gave our floundering, stagnating economy a huge boot up the backside. And yet, still, I was not enough. I was not my brother.

Fuming, I strode along the corridors from the great hall up to my chambers and nearly flattened a poor serving girl as she left one of the rooms along the way. “I’m sorry,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Highness,” she chirped, dipping into a curtsy and scurrying away before I could explain myself.

My reputation had gone from ‘scholar prince’ to ‘Royal Monk’ by the time I was twenty five, but I was also known for being moody and sullen, with a perpetual scowl on my lean - I thought gaunt - face. No wonder I’d frightened her. As I stared in the speckled mirror in my bedroom, I saw a face and body that would hardly impress the orcs to whom I was about to be packed off like a spare bit of cargo for six months. Why? What what did my father have to gain from sending me to a group of people who, until my teenage years, had been our enemies? They weren’t exactly our best friends now either.

The orcs right across the continent had begun to think about trade with us since Khraxh and her warband had first agreed to peace talks, and while the mountain orcs were still ferociously opposed to any kind of truce or trade talks with the soft, plains- and forest-dwelling humans, Khraxh had clearly seen the advantages that at least a ‘polite understanding’ would have with us. We had the monopoly on iron ore with our goblin-run mines to the east, and due to our superior charcoal burning techniques, we were able to forge steel like almost no one else, save perhaps the goblins themselves.

Goblins, like humans, had a long and turbulent history with orcs. Historically, encounters between the two peoples mostly ended in absolute annihilation of entire goblin communities by the larger and stronger orcs - hence their very slight preference for dealing with humans. It really was only a slight preference, however. Goblins were wary and untrusting of most folks, but it was understandable. They were a skittish, intolerant folk, quick to be offended and even quicker to give it.

Staring into that age-freckled mirror, I saw my lacklustre, pale skin, with no distinguishing features, save perhaps for my mother’s dark eyes and a slightly hooked nose. Where Dannan had been the golden boy of our family - qujite literally with his curly blond hair - I was the proverbial and, of late, the literal, dark horse. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark expression…

Needless to say, I got little sleep that night, which added to the dark shadows beneath those dark eyes. I turned it over and over as I lay amid the fine silk sheets. In the end, I came to the rather unsettling conclusion that my father hoped I wouldn’t survive my time with the orcs so that he could install someone like my cousin Balgrun on the throne after his demise. Not that anyone imagined that a king as tenacious and bitter as my father would ever give up his hold on life; he was simply too stubborn to die, I was sure of it. True, I was useful, but I was not a leader. I honestly crumbled to a trembling, stammering, sweating mess if I had to address the public myself, and I considered more than three people to be an abhorrent crowd. He’d raised me to be the shadow to my brother’s light, and I fulfilled that role too well to be trained to shine in public now.

Gritting my teeth the next morning, I stood on the sweeping steps of the royal castle, awaiting the arrival of the orcs.

The squeal of a war boar from the far side of the castle’s curtain wall announced their presence before the trumpets and shouts did. I drew a deep breath and kept my skinny hands folded behind my back. No need to let them see me shaking. The king emerged from the doors behind me and fixed me with his usual, emotionless glower. “Don’t embarrass me, son,” he muttered under his breath. “They do us great honour by taking you to the heart of their lands for so long a time.”

I raised my eyebrow. My mother had been able to do that, according to Rigmore. The castle steward and she had apparently been good friends, and when I had learned to do it, he had laughed and said I was the picture of my mother. Naturally, I did it around my father whenever I could just to rile him up. “Tell me, father,” I said with carefully controlled coolness in my voice. “What exactly do you hope to achieve out of my royal stay with — what was it you called them yesterday? — oh yes… ‘those beasts’.”

His lip curled and his eye twitched. “You will do well not to repeat that, boy,” he snarled.

I laughed and shook my head. “Out of the two of us, I seem to be the only one who values my hide, father. Fear not though, I have no intention of pissing off my captors.”

“Captors? Guardians, more like. The honour of hosting the son of the most powerful king on this continent will not be lost on them,” he said fervently, grey eyes drifting to the portcullis and main entrance to the bailey behind me.

“Surely you had some mission in mind for me then?”

“Win them over with that naive charm of yours,” he said dismissively, still not looking at me. “You could have charmed your way into the beds of half the nobility of this kingdom, despite your… physique… Fuck them if you have to,” he said in a hiss in my ear, “But I want them in an advantageous trade deal by the end of next spring. Butter them up, win their trust, and we’ll have the brutes in our pockets.”

“And if I don’t manage that?” I asked.

His eyes flashed. “Then you really aren’t of any use to me at all, are you?”

It wasn’t a wholly unexpected answer. The man was always the king before he was my father, but still, I barked out a loud and undignified laugh just as the orcs entered amid a clatter of cloven trotters and squealing war beasts, feeling empty and hollow. “Goddess be merciful,” I cursed. “You just want me out of the way while you wine and dine Balgrun in my absence. Oh yes,” I chuckled back at him over my shoulder, practically skipping down the stairs and strangely looking forward to my six month ‘holiday’ from the backstabbing and conniving of the castle. “I asked around; I know you’re asking my dear little cousin to stay. Perhaps you can show him the ropes in six months, and perhaps the orcs will decide I’m more useful as a toothpick than a diplomat, and you’ll have a reason to go to war with them again, wipe them off the plains, and then nothing will stand in your way between the coast and the mountains.”

And with that, I left him sputtering on the steps, his face a rather nasty puce colour. I’d figured out his alternative plan, and if he thought for a moment I was going to let him have it, he was a dotard.

“Greetings,” I said, addressing Vilugh in the common Trade Tongue. “Regrettably I have not had the chance to learn your language yet, otherwise I would have greeted you in your own tongue.”

The orc swung down from his boar and dropped the reins to the flagstone floor, ground-tying the beast the same way I might have ground-tied my mare. Starling was, to my relief, already saddled and ready for me, standing with her bridle in the hands of a groom and stamping her hoof in anticipation of an outing.

Vilugh was every bit as colossal and imposing as I remembered him from the last time I’d seen him, if not more so. I knew he had to be ten years or so older than me, and if he was thirty five, he was still in his absolute prime. His green-skinned chest was largely bare, save for the leather strap that reached diagonally from one hip to the opposite shoulder, holding up the leather hunting skirt that hugged his hips and hid very little from the imagination. He didn’t have the defined abs of the veiner fighters I’d seen who liked to show off their lean, oiled bodies for the attention of the crowd, but his middle was packed with solid fat and muscle that spoke of the strength of two or three oxen. His thighs could have crushed one of our warhorses to a bloody slurry if he’d fancied trying, and his hands were as big as the buckler shields favoured by fancy duellers in the city. Small for a shield, but very big for a hand.

His eyes were still that unnerving black that I recalled from my youth, and they were every bit as perceptive as I remembered too. He raked his gaze up my slim form, no doubt also cataloguing my physical features and sartorial preferences. That day I had chosen simple buckskin leggings, suitable for long distance riding, and a loose, linen shirt. My hair was tied back in a practical style at the nape of my neck, and across the front of my saddle, I had instructed my servant to tie a leather hunter’s jerkin for when evening drew in and it inevitably got much colder. In my saddlebags I had had simple, comfortable clothing packed, with none of the fripperies and fineries with which a prince might be expected to travel. Orcs were a pragmatic and practical people, and having a whiny prince demanding to stop for wine and grapes halfway there would win me no favours with them.

“We can teach you to speak orcish if you want,” Vilugh said in a voice like a rock slide.

I couldn't help but grin at the chance to learn something else, and nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that. I can’t promise to be any good, but I’ll try.”

To my surprise, Vilugh laughed. “From what I hear, you’re a quick learner, prince. You’ll catch on quick enough I reckon.”

Relief washed through me. The warrior was polite and had a sense of humour. As much as my father’s court frustrated me, I knew where to tread there, and how far I could push and poke before I risked too much. With the orcs, I had no idea yet what might provoke them or amuse them. I also had no idea how they felt about this arrangement, or how my presence among them would be received.

“If you’d like to rest or feed your mounts, and seek the same for yourself, then please make yourselves comfortable, otherwise I’m ready to leave whenever you are.” I left it up to him to decide, and after a quick look at my father, still standing on the castle steps like a lone lion on a rock while hyenas prowled below, Vilugh shot me a look of a different calibre.

“These boar can ride all day without stopping for food or water; three days without rest,” he said in a measured voice, walking at my side and casting my entire body into shadow with his immense height and breadth.

He was testing me, and I didn’t fall for it. “And yet the ride from your mother’s bastion is four days from here,” I replied with the same even tone.

Vilugh’s eyes glittered with amusement. “The piss you people drink for ale should be enough for now.”

It was easy enough for me to take a chance on his sense of humour with my father’s bowmen lining the walls and the honour guard ranged up the stairs nearby. “For you or for the boars?” I quipped, turning away and inviting him to follow me.

Again, the massive - and honestly quite intimidating - orc let out a long, loud belly-laugh of amusement. “Hay will do for the boars just now, though they prefer meat when they can get it.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” I muttered.

The boars were seen to, and I led Vilugh and the two other orcs who had accompanied him up to meet my father. Neither Vilugh nor his fellow warriors bowed or bent the knee to my father I was pleased to note, and it got my father’s hackles up like a like a bristling tomcat. I almost could have kissed the enormous warrior just for putting my father on the back foot already, but honestly, what did he expect? Did he think the orcs would prostrate themselves before him? They’d hardly done that last time, so I couldn’t imagine he’d be so conceited as to think they’d do it this time.

“Your majesty,” Vilugh said.

“Welcome,” my father said, his tone more tightly-clipped than the box hedge in the castle’s knot garden. “Will you be staying for some refreshments before you return to your people with my son?”

“Just long enough to give the boars a breather,” Vilugh said with easy diplomacy.

The other warriors he’d brought with him were the older, one-armed orc I’d skittered away from as a child, and a female I didn’t recognise but who had the most incredible, blue eyes I’d ever seen. Vilugh must have caught me admiring her in the great hall because he leaned in close and growled without real sting, “Stare too long at my sister and she’ll most likely cut out your eyes, princeling.”

“I was just admiring hers,” I yipped quickly, regretting the rather boyish note to my usually hoarse tenor. “Blue eyes are not so common in these parts, that’s all. I meant no offence by it.”

Seated beside him at the table, she leaned close to her brother and barked something in orcish at him. He looked briefly back at me, and then responded in the same. They conversed for a moment and I sat there with my spine dead-straight and my jaw clenched. When Vilugh turned back to me, he grinned. “Rhana says that if the pretty human princeling wants to stare at her, he can, but he’ll have to answer to her wife when we get back.”

“Far be it from me to come between an orc and her wife,” I chuckled anxiously.

When Vilugh translated, they both laughed and Rhana reached behind her brother and cuffed me on the shoulder hard enough that I was almost sent reeling off my seat and onto the floor, which got another laugh out of them and drew a glare of daggers from my unnerved father. Good. Let him be baffled that I was already getting along with these warriors like soldiers in the barracks. He’d clearly not expected me to have any idea how to behave around them, but while I didn’t spend my spare time in our own guards’ barracks, I observed the way everyone in the castle interacted with each other. It was what I’d been trained to do, after all: notice things and remember them.

All in all, the orcs didn't linger long, and we were on our way within an hour.

The pace of the first few hours of the ride alternated between a brisk walk and trotting, though my mare jogged excitedly for the first hour of that until I finally convinced her that we were in it for the long haul. The grooms kept her fit and well-schooled since I couldn’t step away from the castle regularly enough to do it myself, but by the end of the day, even my indomitable Starling was beginning to flag. I patted her neck and murmured that we’d probably break camp soon, and, sure enough, we did.

Once a small fire was lit, with the dry twigs of plains brush-scrub, and carefully warded in a low pit to stop it spreading across the arid plain, I drew out my rations from my saddlebag and Vilugh shot me a look of mild surprise.

“What?” I asked, nervous that I’d committed some inadvertent transgression by digging in before they’d started eating.

After a moment, the orc heaved himself down onto the ground beside me, long, black plait thwacking against his back at the motion. Then he said almost conspiratorially, “You’re not what I was expecting.”

Unwrapping the bread and hard cheese from their waxed linen wrappings, I frowned. “Just what were you expecting, might I ask?”

He shrugged a massive shoulder and drew out a similarly wrapped parcel - much larger - with dried meat and a hard looking biscuit that I thought would probably crack my own teeth before it broke. “Honestly… going off the last time I saw you, and from what your father said of you in talks with my mother… I thought you’d be a fragile little bird. You’re not.” He looked at me, dark eyes glittering in the fire like polished onyx and added, “You are skinny as a bird, but you’re not weak.”

“How would you know?” I scoffed. “I could be too weak to draw my sword. It could just be strapped to my waist for show…” In fact, it was now unbuckled and lying behind me with my saddle and bags, while Starling was hobbled nearby and looking rather disdainfully at the slim grazing afforded by the scrubland where we’d paused. Finest high-summer hay, it was not.

“You move like a dancer,” he said, and I immediately choked on a breadcrumb.

He had to slap me on the back and offered me a skin of water. I washed the offending clog down and gawped at him. “What would you know about human dancers?” I asked without thinking.

“I’ve travelled to the cities on the coast,” he said. “They dance in the marketplaces on festival days.”

“Oh,” I said. And then my cheeks flushed. “I’m not… You know… those dancers are… uh… paid to do more than dance… shall we say.”

It took Vilugh a moment to catch on, but he seemed embarrassed at his mistake. “I meant no insult by it,” he said. “They’re very beautiful.”

“That they are,” I admitted. My father had tried to entice three of them into bed with me after one evening spent in the company of one of his duchesses, but when I’d shown more interest in her library than her twittering prostitutes, he’d given up. Apparently the finest courtesans in the land weren’t going to make me proper man in his eyes, so it wasn’t worth trying.

Vilugh must have seen my memories swirling across my face, because he didn’t bring it up again, and we ate in a rather awkward silence after that. The orcs drew lots for the watch, and Vilugh drew the first and insisted that as their guest, I should not be expected to deprive myself of sleep. Plus, apparently, the next day’s riding would be harder and he didn’t want me falling out of my saddle when I dozed off. Also orcs’ eyes were more like cats’ eyes in the dark, I discovered, when I looked up and saw Rhana’s glinting at me from across the fire and nearly had a heart attack. She laughed and wished me pleasant dreams.

Taking their well-meaning jibes in my stride, I nodded and bedded down in my humble bedroll. It was the type that hunters used, made of breathable buckskin and lined with fleece to keep off the chill of the plains, and although I’d only spent one or two nights in it in my life, I slept better that night than I had in years, not waking until Vilugh's surprisingly gentle touch at my shoulder stirred me not long after dawn.

Over the course of the next few days, Starling developed a comical rivalry with Rhana’s boar, the two taking every opportunity to bite or scuffle with each other, though it never seemed to get truly vicious enough for either of us to worry about, so we let it play out to our amusement. Perhaps because of that and perhaps because I just simply liked them for their gruff honesty, by the time the wooden palisade walls of the orcish war-band’s permanent stronghold drew into view on a wind-blown hilltop, I felt relatively comfortable with the three orcs who had been sent to fetch me.

The older one with one arm was called Rhakak, and was apparently Vilugh’s cousin. He was taciturn and unflinching, watchful and grim, but not aggressive towards me. I still gave him a wide berth though.

But if I’d thought Rhakak was intimidating, it was nothing to Vilugh's mother.

I remembered her from her visit to the castle, but nothing could quite have prepared me for the sheer presence the matriarch had amongst her own people. She was standing waiting for us as we rode up to the walls of the stronghold, and even though Vilugh had told me that Khraxh wouldn’t hold me to the same etiquette as she would a visiting orc, I still nearly shat my pants in fear when I got off Starling’s back and found her surveying me with a distinctly unimpressed look on her weathered, beautiful face.

She really was beautiful. Her body was honed and muscular, but her movements were sleek and efficient, and in much the way a war galley cuts through the water and bristles with power, so she moved with the dormant power of a life-long warrior. Her long, thick hair had turned grey in the intervening decade since I’d seen her, and she’d lost half a tusk too, but the way the gathered orcs arranged themselves around her reminded me of a wolf and her pack. She commanded absolute obedience in them, and unyielding loyalty. In that moment, I did feel afraid, and suddenly very much not up to the seemingly impossible task I had been set.

With a rather endearing patience, Vilugh had taught me the phrase to speak in orcish upon meeting her, and once I could finally get my tongue around the complex vocal gymnastics of the orcish language, he said I would not be flayed alive for completely embarrassing my tutor.

Thus, upon our first meeting, I nearly sprained my jaw, but I gained perhaps a modicum of respect from the veteran war chief. As the three orcs sent to the castle to fetch me had now bowed, neither did I, but I did incline my head as I spoke. There was no need to act like a prideful brat after all.

If my father was expecting me to make enemies of these people and inadvertently lure them into killing me and sparking a war, then I was bloody well going to do the opposite. I wasn’t a warrior, but I had my mind, and I was damned if I was going to fuck things up and go down in history as the skinny little prince who kicked off the orc-human conflict all over again.

Humble but not meek, studious but not annoyingly curious, polite but not obsequious, opinionated but not obnoxious… I began to feel my way through the stronghold’s hierarchy, and miraculously survived my first week there without insulting anyone.

One week down, twenty three more to go…

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#exophilia #male orc #orc x reader #male orc x male reader #male monster x male reader #mlm #mlm exophilia #1st person narrative #male monster #male reader

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m00nycore · 4 years

Text

𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙋𝙄𝘿 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 ;; 𝙤𝙣𝙚 .

𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 .

𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙤𝙘 (𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨)

𝙩/𝙬 : 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛. 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.

𝙏𝘼𝙂𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 ;; @dreaming-about-fanfictions @aesthetic-el

Her room became a prison.

Persephone tried in vain not to cry herself to sleep the first night she spent trapped in the manor. No, she told herself, you’re too strong for that.

But she wasn’t. She vomited the very minute Draco left her alone in the room. She had to assist in killing Dumbledore. The Dark Mark painted her forearm. It was too much for her.

Her step-mother had arranged for her favorite house elf, Poppy, to bring her belongings to her new, overly spacious room. It had been quite the fight for her to be able to keep Poppy with her- until Narcissa Malfoy agreed, on the condition that Poppy helped to maintain the house while Persephone was absent.

She sat on the edge of the bed, Poppy organizing her things, while her hairless cat, Aegis, laid curled on her lap.

“Poppy,” she murmured, the elf immediately running towards her.

“Yes, Mistress Persephone?” she wondered, her giant eyes full of love and respect.

“Just Persephone,” she gently reminded the elf; she knew it was hard for her to correct that. “You don’t have to put my things away, dear. I can do it myself… would you sit with me?”

Poppy hopped onto the bed, and Persephone leaned on her. In some ways, Poppy was the mother she never had. In other ways, Poppy was like a best friend, or a little sister.

“Poppy,” Persephone whispered, tears collecting in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What’s the matter, ma’am?” Poppy wondered, alarm written over her features. “Did Poppy do-?”

“Poppy, you’ve never given me a problem for as long as you have lived,” she pulled the elf into a hug, which she returned. “Poppy, do you promise me to keep a secret? Even from the Malfoy’s?”

“Ms. Persephone has my word!” she exclaimed, full of determination.

Persephone sighed, absentmindedly stroking a sleeping Aegis. “Poppy, I’m getting married now,” she showed her the extravagant ring, making her friend’s eyes widen.

“Congratulations, ma’am!” she exclaimed. “To Mister Malfoy?” she inquired, curiosity and innocence laced in her tone.

“Yes…,” Persephone confirmed. “But I don’t love him. I was forced into this. Honestly, I used to hate him in school… we haven’t talked civilly in… I don’t remember when.”

Poppy frowned. “Why is Ms. Persephone being forced to marry? Poppy doesn’t understand.”

“Apparently, our parents agreed… but, Poppy… here’s when it gets to be a bigger secret… Draco has been tasked by the Dark Lord to kill Dumbledore,” Poppy gasped at her statement. “And I… have to help him. They made me a Death Eater,” she showed her forearm, still red hot and painful. “Poppy, I can’t do it. I don’t want to. But if I don’t…”

Tears pooled in Poppy’s eyes. “They may kill Ms. Persephone!” she wailed. “Poppy doesn’t want Ms. Persephone to die! Poppy loves Ms. Persephone!”

Persephone gathered Poppy in her arms again, shushing her. “Poppy, I love you too… I’m more worried about them hurting you to hurt me,” it was true, it had definitely crossed her mind. Her love for her house elf was apparent, and they could very well use that against her. It wasn’t like she cared about any harm coming to others. Persephone cared about Poppy and herself. Self-preservation might be selfish of her, but she simply didn’t care. She wouldn’t have the Dark Lord kill her.

“Ms. Persephone should never worry about Poppy!”

She smiled sadly at her. Poppy was loyal to a fault, but she was the only being alive she considered family. Her father was a monster, as well as her step-mother.

“Ms. Persephone looks ill,” Poppy said. “Does Ms. Persephone need something to eat?”

“No,” she responded. Truthfully, she hadn’t eaten all day. Nor did she yesterday, when she had received her assignment. The Malfoy’s hadn’t seen her since. She imagined Draco was isolating himself, as well. She wouldn’t blame him.

A knock sounded at her door, and Poppy quickly jumped off the bed, running to finish putting clothes away.

“Poppy, stop, I’ll help,” she told her, in a whisper. “Just stay there, please. I need you,” Poppy nodded. “Come in,” she responded, in a voice that betrayed none of her turmoil.

Narcissa Malfoy entered the room, with all the grace and authority she was raised to aspire to. She was absolutely beautiful, and she seemed kinder than the other women she had encountered in the circle, purely because of her obvious love and devotion to her son.

“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy,” she greeted, wondering why she had come to see her.

She nodded, crossing the room and taking a seat on the plush couch.

“You haven’t been eating,” she stated. “You shouldn’t starve yourself.”

Persephone couldn’t muster a reply. Narcissa continued. “You were unaware of your betrothal to my son,” it was a statement rather than a question. She paused. “You two are just children.”

Persephone heard the sorrow in her voice. She was worried for her son more than anything, she knew, but was Narcissa concerned for her?

“I,” she began, locking eyes with Poppy, who looked anxiously at her. “I’m being rude… thank you, Mrs. Malfoy, for allowing me to stay in your home and for me to bring my dearest Poppy along with me.”

Narcissa spared a glance at Poppy, who bowed to her.

“I supposed you needed some sort of comfort,” she told her. “So you genuinely were never told of your betrothal?”

Persephone locked eyes with her. “I wasn’t, ma’am, no.”

Narcissa looked towards the window. “I was always fond of your mother… and I was distraught to hear about her passing,” she said it as delicately and discreetly as possible, considering the circumstances behind her death. “I watched you grow up. I knew you were clever… you never played with Draco or the other children… you observed. You read books.”

Persephone was at a loss for words. She had no clue where her soon-to-be mother-in-law was going with this.

“I love my son,” she stated. “I love him more than anything. You know, you’re like your mother… in more than just looks. I expected you to be a Ravenclaw,” another pause. “My dear,” Narcissa stood, tears in her eyes, and sat next to her. “I care for my son, and I care for you as his fiancée. Persephone, as a mother, I am not only concerned for him, but for you. You don’t have anyone left… but, however you feel, you have Draco now. Persephone, I beg of you… help him. Protect him.”

Persephone stared down at Aegis, regretting that her hands were always so cold on her hairless skin.

“I will,” she whispered.

Narcissa nodded, and walked to the door. “You’re welcome to leave the room, to walk around the manor or the gardens,” without another word, she left.

Her mother had once told her a story when she was little.

“Do you know why you were named Persephone?”

The five-year-old considered. She wasn’t fond of her name. It sounded silly, and once Draco made fun of her so much that she cried. She liked her middle name, Wren, better.

“I don’t know, mommy. I hate my name,” she pouted.

Her mother laughed, gentle, stroking her daughter’s hair and snuggling her closer in the plush bed.

“There’s an old Greek story about Persephone,” her mother began. The child perked up. “You were named after a goddess.”

“A goddess?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “The story isn’t completely happy, but it teaches an important lesson.

Persephone was a beautiful goddess, the goddess of spring. Her mother’s name was Demeter. Demeter and Persephone loved each other and would spend lots of time playing and dancing through the meadows. Demeter loved her daughter almost as much as I love you,” Persephone giggled, snuggling closer to her mother. She continued. “But, one day, Hades, the god of the Underworld, saw Persephone and fell in love with her beauty… so, he had her kidnapped and brought to the Underworld with him.”

The child gasped in horror, eyes widening.

“Demeter grew very sad. Almost as sad as I would be if I lost you. She searched the earth for her daughter, and the plants and crops stopped growing. Demeter was the goddess of agriculture. Humans grew hungry and starved because she wasn’t helping anything grow.

One day, Hermes, messenger of the gods, saw the misery Demeter felt, and he told Zeus, the king of the gods, to bring her back. Zeus demanded Hades return Persephone, who was pale and sick, but something bad had happened. Persephone ate pomegranate seeds in the Underworld, and if you eat there, you must stay there. Zeus decided that for half of the year, Persephone would stay in the Underworld with Hades, and the other half of the year, she would stay with her mother. So, when Persephone was on earth, it was spring and summer. When she wasn’t, it was fall and winter.”

Persephone looked up at her mother, brow creased with concern. “Mommy, that’s too sad. Why did you name me after something sad? I never want to leave you ever, ever, ever!”

She smiled at her child, with all of the love and adoration in the world. “Oh, my sweet baby… you will never leave me, nor will I leave you. I named you Persephone for a few reasons. One, you reminded me of beauty and springtime as soon as you were born. Your hair and eyes are as dark as mine, but you are vibrant and sunny, even in the cold. But the biggest reason, my love, is because nothing and no one will ever compare to the love I have for you. I love you more than anything in the world.”

Persephone jumped onto her mom, hugging her tight. “I love you more, mommy!”

“I love you more!”

“No, I love you more!”

She dissolved into giggles as her mom began tickling her, once again telling her she loved her more.

Persephone was lost in the memory, walking through the gardens. She wasn’t springtime, no, not anymore. She was only Persephone to her mother, and the people she had to act in front of. No, she was Wren now. Wren was pale and wan, battered and self-serving. Wren was a Slytherin, she lost the kindness she had carried before.

She only cared for what she knew was right, what she knew was worth fighting for.

The Malfoy’s gardens were spectacular, plants and statues well cared for, the scent of fruits in the trees and the perfume of flowers thick in the air. She wandered, in the warm night, dressed in her silk pajama shorts and matching top, trying in vain not to think of the hell she was living in.

She stared at the magnificent fountain with the strange urge to drown in it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a new presence.

Draco walked up to her, in a black suit, an impassive expression drawn on his features.

He stood by her, neither looking at each other or saying a word.

“You aren’t wearing the ring,” Draco was the one to break the silence.

“No, I’m not.”

There was silence again.

She took his hand, which he shook away.

“What are you doing?” he nearly spat, disgust on his features.

She exhaled out of her nose. “Practicing. Didn’t you hear him? Hogwarts needs to see the happy couple.”

“I’m surprised that you’re even going to go through with any of this,” he commented.

She considered, finally looking at him. He was pale in the moonlight. He didn’t look well, either. He looked back, eyes falling to her bare arms, the Dark Mark covered with bandages that Poppy helped her with.

“I’m a selfish person, Draco. I don’t fancy dying. Nor do I fancy helping you to spill blood that doesn’t deserve to be spilled.”

Draco scoffed. “You’re just a blood traitor like your mother,” he sneered. “It’s exactly why I didn’t want this betrothal. Not with the likes of you.”

She glared at him, a hard set to her mouth, and began to walk away.

“Where are you going?”

She whirled around, tears threatening to form in her eyes. “If we’re suddenly so fond of speaking ill of one’s dead parent, I’ll make do with calling your father the biggest prat on the planet- he got what he deserved and I have no qualms hoping that you’ll be next, you twat.”

With that, she resumed her walk back to the manor, until Draco called out.

“Bardick,” he only ever addressed her by her surname. He walked up to her. She had stopped walking but still faced away.

She felt something press into her hand. A green apple.

“Eat. If you starve to death, it’ll ruin the mission.”

He walked by her, quickly, making his own way back to the manor.

#with all of my stupid heart #draco fic #draco x you #draco imagine #draco smut #draco angst #draco x oc #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco #draco malfoy #harry potter smut #harry potter angst #harry potter fic #harry potter

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notthatiwilleverwriteit · 3 years

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Hello!So there's always been this theory that he tian will join the family business.but dosen't this a contradiction to everything he had done until now? he tian wanted mo to be good and even he tian was trying to be his best self throughout all this time. so he tian joining the business will be like joining the "dark side" at least that what he tian also thinks. so I don't know what reason there would be to make him join because he would need to do some bad things if he would be part of it, im afraid it would ruin his whole process

Hello, dear anon!

I have talked quite a lot about my thoughts regarding the future of HT (and Tianshan). Here are two previous posts that I feel like could be useful for your questions, especially:

Would HT work for his family in the future?

About the distance in Tianshan and HT’s future

However, your question had an interesting character development angle that I don’t think I have pondered before as such. And I feel like the recent chapter had some curious crumbs that also got me thinking about this whole thing again. So, at the risk of repeating myself, I am once again diving into this.

A quick note before getting further, though. The translations of any chapters that come after 341 used in this post are done by @1154lizz Please, go support our fandom’s precious lifelines!

“there's always been this theory that he tian will join the family business”

This has actually been one of the things that the new chapter got me to reconsider. I have heard the theory of HT potentially working for his family in the future, and I have always thought it very likely based on the Christmas specials.

I still think he might end up in the family business, but after the newest chapter, my focus somewhat shifted (ch. 348):

In the Christmas specials, the boys are at college age. ZZX is going to a university while JY is catching up on his high school education. MGS seems to be working, but the pile of books hints that he might be studying something, too.

Considering the He family a bit more, I actually think HT might be going to a university in the Christmas specials. Despite their presumably criminal line of work/involvement, I think the He family puts importance on intelligence and prestige. HT always scores top of his class. He is viewed and treated like an apple of the eye by the teachers, their prized pupil. I also think that if HT is to inherit the position of his family, he is expected to be smart and educated. Not to mention, prestige always means a lot of money which attracts powerful people to rub shoulders.

So, HT having a university degree (in business, perhaps) would make sense in my head. And if Mr. He is located abroad, HT is probably going to a foreign university as well. Of course, that doesn't mean he can’t be already somewhat involved in the family business by then, but I would say it’s entirely possible he’s still being groomed.

But this was just a side note. Whether he is already working for his father or otherwise getting close to that doesn’t really change things that much regarding your question.

“dosen't this a contradiction to everything he had done until now? // I don't know what reason there would be to make him join because he would need to do some bad things if he would be part of it”

This is actually something I haven't really thought about before. At least, not in so many words. I was talking about HT’s future with a friend of mine, and she said that she wishes HT won’t “give up on himself” in the sense that he stops rebelling against this father/family. Especially after everything he’s been through with MGS trying to make him fight for his own future and not submit. What would be the point of him telling MGS to be his own person if HT himself then joins the dark side even if it’s against his will?

Before I get to my thoughts regarding all that, I think it’s important to remember that the future is very much a question mark to us still. Even though the fact that HT seems to be staying abroad (among other things) gives us a base to make certain guesses, we still don't know for sure what he is up to in the future-related chapters. It’s good to keep that in mind when pondering the overall character development.

But I do take my friend’s and your points, dear anon. I could see why it would be disappointing if HT basically undid the progress of working on himself and went against his own principles. I could understand why it would be sad to see his fight have been for naught in the end.

But...as much as I do see where you’re coming from, I still kind of prefer the idea of HT getting involved with the family business one way or another in the future. Instead of disappointing, I would find it realistic and more interesting. HT having to compromise on his rather idealistic principles but still having them represented in MGS would have the kind of angsty layers that personally appeal to me. Both the good and bad being present in HT’s characters in a realistic way - imagine the complexity of that! The bitter-sweetness of “don’t become what I became”. Also, HT trying to keep the world of his family and whatever he has with MGS in the future separate would definitely be my kind of mafia ship aesthetic.

As far as potential reasons why HT might join his family business in the future, I think there are some possible reasons that have been hinted at in the current timeline already. I have talked about these before in the previous answers I linked above, so I won’t go as deep into this topic.

First of all, I think the He family has the kind of resources and influence that could help HT protect his friends and people who are dear to him (ch. 244, 245, 267):

HT’s character seems to have this contradiction that he despises his family’s behavior and way of dealing with things, but he will take advantage of that manpower and influence when it suits him. Granted, he does use them to protect his friends and I’m sure relying on them is less than ideal in his mind, but it still goes against him “being his own person”. In the end, resources matter and even HT can’t ignore that which makes his situation realistic.

Ultimately I think HT using his family could lead to him owing to them and basically being made to submit to his family’s will that way. In fact, I would say it has already happened a couple of times. At the back of one of those incidents, HT had to agree to go see his father. I don’t see why that arrangement couldn’t escalate further in the future as the steaks go higher. I think it very likely that in the future he will keep sacrificing his own ideals and principles to protect the good people who don't deserve to be oppressed by people like Mr. He.

Secondly, despite everything, this is still HT’s family we’re talking about, and I think he is more hung up on them than he would like to admit (ch. 229, 251, 252, 292):

I think the topic of family is very difficult for HT and he has a love-hate relationship with them. It’s painful to be disappointed and let down by the people you love as instinctively as one loves their family. HT has clearly been put through a lot of pain and trauma by the dangerous and ruthless life his family has chosen to lead.

But I don’t think even that has made HT completely given up on them. Perhaps not even when it comes to his father. I’m not sure if he is naive enough to expect them to change their lifestyle, but on some level, he might be waiting for something. When it comes to our families, the human mind works in mysterious ways. It’s easy to stay in a toxic environment and wait for something to change. And really, there are only two things that can change in those situations: them or us. Either they change themselves for better or worse or we make a decision whether we stay or leave for ourselves. I would say HT’s situation belongs in that last category where he is at this mental crossroad of trying to be separate from his family but also not being able to quite see it through.

Which brings me to another detail that got me thinking in the latest chapter. The issue of HC’s view on Mr. He that has been brought up before in the comic already (ch. 252, 348):

I think when it comes to their father and family in general, HC and HT are in very different kinds of mental positions. As the older son, HC has been subjected to the teachings and principles of their father for longer. I’m not sure if I would say he’s internalized them as such, but he has at least accepted them as a way to live his life. As an older brother, he has also naturally fallen into the role of responsibility a lot more than HT. He hasn’t had the position and freedom to rebel like HT has.

So, when HC tries to defend their father to HT, I think it’s wise to take his “background” into account. I’m not saying he’s lying when he believes their father does care about HT, but I think his disposition as the older brother makes him somewhat biased.

And yet...

And yet, I’m curious about how the new chapter brought this issue up again. Whenever HT accuses their father of just seeing his sons as pawns for his own gain, HC always seems genuinely taken aback by the outburst and how HT is talking about their father. The way HC said HT will “understand in the future” especially piqued my curiosity. Does HC know something about their father that HT doesn’t? Something that could - if not justify - then at least begin to explain his apparent ruthlessness? If that was explained to HT, would there be a chance that he would be less declined to join whatever his family is doing? I would even go as far as asking is HT waiting for a reason that would make thinking about his family less painful if there was something behind it all? Is it possible that HT had learned something like that by the time of the Christmas specials?

Now, that would be interesting.

Overall, I do get why it would feel like a setback in HT’s character development if he indeed ends up working for his family. But personally, I would be more interested in the complexity and realism of him being a part of both good (MGS and their relationship) and bad (the family business) at the same time. In my opinion, including the idea that life is much more complicated and grey-shaded than noble ideals would be really interesting to see.

Thank you for your question and ponderings, dear anon!

#19 days #he tian #he cheng #Mr. He #answered ask

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curvynerdfan · 4 years

Text

Remedies and Recipes

Hey y’all! A friend of mine gave me the idea of Geralt rescueing the reader on a hunt and I kind of went wild with it(almost 2400 words). I hope y’all like it!

Requests are open!

I’m sorry if there are any mistakes, I read over it myself a couple of times and then post

Warnings: curse words?, burns

Geralt x Reader

Geralt of Rivia was renown for his skills at hunting down the most dangerous beasts known to man but even he was wary of the creature he was sent after this time. A dracolizard was from the same origin as dragons, yet more dangerous since there are many more in existence. This draconid can run and fly at astonishing speeds and is the only creature of dragon descent that still breathes fire. Even worse, a dracolizard had a venom-spiked tail. To be frank, Geralt wouldn’t be trekking through the wilderness to kill the beat if it wasn’t for Y/N.

Y/N was beloved by the town of Biala and one of the few people the Witcher held near and dear. She was known for being one with nature. Y/N had what could be considered a green thumb and a free spirit. Many townsfolk would rush to her when a loved one was sick or injured. Y/N cared deeply for the creatures that lived near her cottage and consistently fed and cared for the critters. When Geralt would visit, he’d hunt in the woods nearby but was always aware of her “sanctuary safe line” and made sure not to hunt an animal she may have a connection with. In thanks for all the times she has healed him and provided companionship, Geralt liked to hunt for her and stock her pantry with meat for the winter. Wolves protected her land from trespassers but would also cuddle her in the firelight. She loved to traipse through the woods and collect herbs and plants to use for remedies and recipes. Geralt can only assume that is how the dracolizard captured her.

Geralt tried to push worries out of his mind but all he could scent was burnt flesh and trees. He wasn’t sure how many people the beast had killed and devoured and it took everything in him to keep his head on straight. Usually that wasn’t hard for him to focus on a hunt. Y/N was special to him and now that he was being honest with himself - he’d break if something had happened to her.

Now that he was getting closer to killing the creature, he paused to down an elixir and coat his sword in draconid oil so the blade could slice through the dracolizard’s tough scales. He decided it would be best to leave Roach with his belongings tied to her and let her roam. After he killed the monster he could always whistle and she would find him. He was only six or seven miles from Y/N’s cottage and hoped that he wouldn’t have to search much further. Dracolizards were semi-intelligent, not as smart as a full-fledged dragon, but still very adept. Hopefully, the monster realized that Y/N was more valuable alive but wasn’t smart enough to realize you were important to the man hunting it.

Just as he readied himself and let Roach loose, he heard a vicious screech that made him flinch. Oh, he was definitely close. The elixir was beginning to kick in, as well. His reflexes were enhanced and he could now hear the beasts scales scraping against the charred trees to his left. He steadied the blade in his hand and grasped his shield.

The lizard-like monstrosity noticed the amber-eyed Witcher and raised it’s broad wings in offense. A growl escaped from it’s massive nuzzle filled with razor sharp teeth. The dracolizard’s body was pure muscle. Geralt broadened his stance as the monster began to stalk him. The two rotated in a circle, Geralt keeping a close eye on the creature’s spiky venom-filled tail. The last thing he wanted was to be struck by that.

Suddenly the dracolizard lunged at him letting at another gnarly screech and gnashed it’s teeth at his face. The Witcher blocked with his shield and swiped his sword at it’s chest, managing to rip through some of it’s flesh before rolling out of the way. Geralt quickly hopped back onto his feet and brought his foot down onto the beast’s massive tail. He hoped that this would deter the creature from using the powerful weapon against him. In retaliation, the monster unhinged it’s jaw and released a blast of unrelenting fire in the Witcher’s direction. Geralt barely managed to protect himself with his shield and realized too late that part of his shin was in the line of fire.

Geralt smelt the burning flesh and felt the searing pain and grit his teeth in annoyance.The monster then attempted to fly off but Geralt did not plan on letting it live to attack another dat and dropped his sword and shield in favor of grasping the draconid’s tail. Once he had a decent grasp around the wound he made earlier, he dug his heels in and pulled back. He continued to step backwards,planting his feet and pulling until the beast lost momentum and pain caused it to fall back to the ground and land stomach up.

Geralt quickly lunged for his sword and rolled away from another fiery blast. He ducked behind one of the few remaining trees and waited for the fire to stop. Geralt took a deep breath and launched himself out of his hiding spot, sword raised ready to strike. The dracolizard leapt forward and snapped its jaws. As Geralt ducked, he jabbed the sword upward and into the monster’s neck. Thankfully he hit the beast right in the middle of its throat and as it fell from its charge at him, it fell onto the sword. Unfortunately for Geralt this meant the gigantic draconid was on top of him.

The Witcher huffed in annoyance, “Fuck.”

He began to push the dracolizard off of his body with a groan. Geralt managed to get onto his knees and worked on catching his breath. Once he had a semi steady breath again, he heaved the monstrosity onto his shoulder and stood, shifting the beasts neck off of him. Free from the extra weight, Geralt shook his head and tried to clear his mind.

Once he had his bearings, the Witcher scanned the surrounding area for any other beasts or adversaries in his vicinity. The silence and lack of movement brought relief and worry for the mutant. On one hand it was nice to know that nothing else was going to attack him today but on the other hand, he still doesn’t know where his Y/N is. No, not HIS Y/N, just Y/N.

“Y/N! Y/N are you out here?” Geralt paused to listen before repeating.

He stomped through the forest searching for any signs of life. He kept searching and was becoming frantic looking for her when he heard a small whimper.

“Y/N”, he gasped.

Geralt lumbered towards the boulder he heard the noise come from.

The Witcher couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of her, “Oh, Y/NN.”

Her skin was a sickly pale, several shades lighter than her normal glow. There was a nasty bruise across her face and her nose had dried blood from when she must have hit her head. There was a large, grotesque burn spanning from the edge of her right shoulder and up her neck as well as several smaller burns and scalds on her body. Geralt grunted in annoyance. He wished he had decided to visit a day sooner. Y/N whimpered again and her face scrunched up in pain.

“Shhh, Y/N. It’s all gonna be okay. I’m here now, nothing else will hurt you ever again.”, Geralt soothed softly. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?”

Geralt asked but didn’t expect a response and he didn’t get one. He bent down to pick her up trying to be wary of any obvious injuries. The Witcher slowly slid an arm under hers and then the other underneath her legs. Geralt let out a classic hmm, lifted her off the ground and away from the ground.

Y/N’s head lolled against his shoulder, “ mm, careful Gera---,” her words faded out but eventually she came to again to warn him, “there’s a , mmm there is a monster here” , she mumbled, “it’ll burn ya.”

Geralt couldn’t help but chuckle lowly and shake his head. Even gravely injured Y/N was worried about the Witcher’s safety. He whistled for Roach but kept his pace steady in the direction he last saw his mare. Roach trotted up to him and he gently asked her to stand as still as possible. Geralt lifted Y/N above his head and placed her on his mare. He then quickly mounted Roach and wrapped his arms around Y/N. He clicked his tongue and led Roach back to Y/N’s cottage.

As they approached the cottage, he noticed smoke bellowing from the wood-burning stove. Y/N had a knack for creating wonderful meals out of what the forest provided and he wouldn’t be surprised to see some type of stew or soup hanging above the fire.

He hopped off of Roach when he got close to the entry-way and quickly lifted Y/N off of Roach. He carried her cradled in his arms and nudged the door open with his foot. He walked through the threshold and straight towards her large bed. Geralt gently layed her down and began to rummage through her herb and medicinal plant collection.

“Need a new salve”, Y/N managed to groan out, “ used the last of it on other victims.”

Geralt hummed in acknowledgement, “Of course you helped everyone possible”

He began to collect the different ingredients he needed. He sliced multiple pieces of aloe vera from one of her many plants and then added calendula, lavender and comfrey. He ground the ingredients together with a mortar and pestle. Once he was sure the mixture was properly prepared, he paced back to her gently propped her against the pillows.

He peeled her dress away from her wounds and flinched when Y/N groaned in pain. Geralt wanted to get her out of the dirty dress and into something more comfortable but didn’t want to do so when she wasn’t coherent. There were also more pressing matters at hand. Once the dress was off of the burns and out of his way, he began to cover the burns with the salve. By the time Geralt got to the neck and shoulder burn, he could tell that Y/N had begun to relax. He gently dabbed the concoction onto the massive burn and reminded himself to ask her tomorrow for scar remedies. Y/N sighed and seemed to be drifting off to sleep.

“Not yet, love. Let me get you some water first then you can sleep all you want.”, Geralt promised.

“Mmmm, love? Finally admitting that you have feelings for me handsome?” Y/N asked gently with an edge of humor in her voice.

“Yeah, I guess I am”, Geralt said and quickly ducked out of the house, heading for the well.

Geralt led Roach to the well and filled up the trough with water for her. He decided to take off her saddle and anything else connected to her, happy to let her roam in the safety of Y/N’s sanctuary. He mumbled at Roach about his slip of the tongue and she neighed back.

Geralt shook his head in amusement “I know, I know.”

The Witcher then pulled more water from the well and filled a pitcher and a bucket to bring into the house. He gently shut the door behind them and placed the bucket on her vanity. Walking closer, he poured some of the water from the pitcher into a cup for her. He then cradled the back of her neck with his other hand and helped lift her so she could sip from the cup.

She hummed when the cold water hit the back of her throat and cooled the inner heat from being surrounded by the burning trees. Geralt then moved across the room to pick up a rag and dip it into the bucket of water. He then used the rag to wipe the dirt and soot off of her face before dipping it again and cleaning her arms and legs, careful to avoid the burns where he had just placed salve.

Y/N was beginning to softly snore and had snuggled down into her pillow. Now that he knew she was safe he decided to clean himself up and apply salve to the burn he received while slaying the dracolizard. He peeled off his leather armor and stripped off his shirt. He reaused the same rag from before. Geralt dipped it in the bucket of clean water and began to clean the dirt, soot and draconid blood from his body. Lastly, he cleaned his lower half, stripping completely to cange into a pair of the loose pants Y/N kept here for his visits and long stays. Completely clean, Geralt pulled a chair towards the bed so he could sit and watch over his self-proclaimed “love”.

Y/N’s eyes open at the sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floors. She lets out a grumble and Geralts’s eyes shift quickly to scan and make sure she was okay.

“Join me… love” She whispers with a little chuckle.

“ I, uh…” he stumbles over his words.

“Geralt, get in the bed.” she demanded, “I am trying to tell you, I love you too…” she paused and started to fall back asleep before mumbling out “ so, get over here and cuddle me”.

Geralt huffs in disbelief for crawling into the bed with Y/N. He gently slides towards the middle of the bed and lets her move and contort herself until she is comfortably resting with her head on his chest and right hand resting gently on his torso. The Witcher hums in content as the lovely beholder of remedies and recipes rests against him. He tenderly kisses the top of her head and lets himself loll to sleep as well.

💕I hope y’all enjoyed it 💕

Taglist: @justahopelessssromantic

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #the witcher imagine #witcher x reader #geralt imagine #my work #witcher geralt #healer #geralt fluff #geralt angst #geralt and roach #request #witcher #witcher fic #dracolizard

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josefavomjaaga · 3 years

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Woman in White, by Giuseppe Bossi. Assumed to be a study for a painting of Auguste, vice-queen of Italy, daughter of King Max Joseph of Bavaria and wife of Eugène de Beauharnais

Can we take a quick break in Murat's story to see what was going on with Eugène in the meantime? After all, Austria's search for allies within Napoleon's family was not limited to Naples.

To an outsider, in fact, Eugène must have seemed like the first suspect when it came to who would most likely break away from Napoleon. After all, Napoleon had treated Eugène's mother rather shamefully, and Eugène had himself been deprived of an inheritance that had been promised to him by his adoptive father, the crown of the Kingdom of Italy. Moreover, his father-in-law Max Joseph, King of Bavaria, had sided with the Allies since October 1813. The fact Max Joseph and Eugène were very close personally was no secret to anyone and is also evident from their correspondence, still cordial despite circumstances, in which they both expressed their regret at now being in enemy camps and having to break off contact (which they probably never truly did completely).

Max Joseph informed his "bien-aimé fils" and "bien cher ami" Eugène on 8 October 1813 that he was unfortunately obliged to jump ship. After a detailed and very lengthy justification for this step, he observes:

Je crois avoir remarqué à cette occasion, avec assez de certitude pour me croire fondé à vous le dire, que les Autrichiens ne seraient pas éloignés de se prêter, du côté de l'Italie, à un armistice sur le pied de la ligne du Tagliamento. C'est votre père, et non le roi, qui vous dit ceci, persuadé que vous saurez allier vos intérêts avec ce que vous devez à l'honneur et à vos devoirs.

I seem to have noticed on this occasion, with enough certainty to consider myself justified of telling you, that the Austrians would not be reluctant to consent, on the Italian side, to an armistice on the basis of the line of the Tagliamento. It is your father, and not the king, who is telling you this, convinced that you will be able to align your interests with what you owe to honour and to your duties.

The letter ends:

J'espère, mon cher Eugène, que nous n'en serons pas moins attachés l'un à l'autre, et que je serai peut-être à même de vous prouver par des faits que ma tendre amitié pour vous est toujours la même. Elle durera autant que moi. Je vous embrasse un million de fois en idée. La reine vous embrasse.

I hope, my dear Eugène, that we shall be no less attached to each other, and that I shall perhaps be able to prove to you by deeds that my fond affection for you is still the same. It will last as long as I do. I embrace you a million times in thought. The queen embraces you.

Hey, sure. Just because we are about to shoot at each other doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends, right? Eugène answers this letter on October 15, 1813:

Mon bon père,

je reçois à l'instant votre lettre du 8 courant. Votre cœur sentira facilement tout ce que le mien a dû souffrir en la lisant. Encore si je ne souffrais que pour moi ! mais je tremble pour la santé de ma pauvre Auguste, lorsqu'elle sera informée du parti que vous vous êtes cru obligé de prendre. Quant à moi, mon bon père, quel que soit le sort que le ciel me réserve, heureux ou malheureux, j'ose vous l'assurer, je serai toujours digne de vous appartenir, je mériterai la conservation des sentiments d'estime et de tendresse dont vous m'avez donné tant de preuves. Vous me connaissez assez, j'en suis sûr, pour être convaincu que, dans celle pénible circonstance, je ne m'écarterai pas un instant de la ligne de l'honneur ni de mes devoirs; je le sais, c'est en me conduisant ainsi que je suis certain de trouver toujours en vous pour moi, pour votre chère Auguste, pour vos petits-enfants, un père et un ami. Le hasard m'a offert une occasion de faire pressentir le général Hiller sur un arrangement tacite par lequel nous demeurerions, lui et moi, dans les positions que nous occupons, c'est-à-dire sur les deux rives de l'Isonzo; je ne sais ce qu'il répondra, mais vous le sentirez, je ne puis faire au delà. Si cette première proposition est jugée insuffisante, si la fortune m'est à l'avenir aussi contraire qu'elle m'a été favorable jusqu'à présent, je regretterai toute ma vie qu'Auguste et ses enfants n'aient pas reçu de moi tout le bonheur que j'aurais voulu leur assurer, mais ma conscience sera pure, et je laisserai pour héritage à mes enfants une mémoire sans tache. Je ne sais, mon bon père, ce que votre nouvelle position vous rendra possible. Je ne vous recommande pas votre gendre, mais je croirais manquer à mes premiers devoirs si je ne vous disais pas: Sire, n'oubliez ni votre fille ni vos petits-enfants.

My good father,

I have just received your letter of the 8th. Your heart will easily perceive how much mine has suffered in reading it. If only I were suffering for myself! But I fear for the health of my poor Auguste, when she is informed of the course you felt obliged to take.

As for me, my good father, whatever fate heaven has in store for me, be it happy or unhappy, I dare to assure you, I will always be worthy of belonging to you, I will merit to preserve the feelings of esteem and tenderness of which you have given me so many proofs.

You know me well enough, I am sure, to be convinced that in this distressing circumstance I will not deviate for a moment from the line of honour or of my duties; I know that it is by behaving in this way that I am certain to always find in you, for me, for your dear Auguste, for your grandchildren, a father and a friend.

Chance has given me an opportunity to make General Hiller aware of a tacit arrangement by which he and I would remain in the positions we occupy, that is to say, on both banks of the Isonzo; I do not know what his answer will be, but you will feel that I cannot go beyond it. If this first proposal is judged insufficient, if fortune is in the future as contrary to me as it has been favourable to me up to now, I will regret all my life that Auguste and her children did not receive from me all the happiness I would have liked to ensure for them, but my conscience will be pure, and I will leave my children an unblemished memory as their legacy.

I do not know, my good father, what your new position will make possible for you. I do not recommend your son-in-law to you, but I feel that I would be failing in my first duty if I did not say to you: Sire, do not forget your daughter or your grandchildren.

Just in case somebody wondered, Eugène to my knowledge not once dares to adress Napoleon – his step father and adoptive father - as »mon père« in a letter. It’s always »Sire« and »Your Majesty« with Napoleon, »mon bon père« and »mon cher père« with Max Joseph.

On a sidenote: Max Joseph felt too embarrassed to inform his daughter about this change of circumstances himself. So instead of writing directly to Auguste, he wrote to her old governess, who had accompanied Auguste to Italy, and asked her to tell the vice-queen.

He knew why, as the reply he received from Auguste sounds a little less understanding than Eugène’s. It’s dated Oktober 17:

My good father,

Eugène has just communicated to me the distressing news that you are against us! You have to understand how my heart feels! To have other interests than yours is dreadful for your daughter who has given you ample proof of her tenderness and obedience to you.

By this, of course, Auguste is alluding to the circumstances of her marriage, which her father, if not forced, then at least had morally blackmailed her into. What she means is: “Hey, you pushed me into marrying this Frenchman back then, just so you could enter into an alliance with France and get yourself a royal crown! And now you are going to leave us hanging? Why, thank you very much!”

Perhaps you have forgotten this; but, in whatever situation I find myself, I will never regret what I have done; my conscience is without reproach, and I would bear with more courage all the misfortunes that come my way if I had not four poor children and soon a fifth to think about. It is for them that I beg your kindness; they are the children of your Auguste, whom you once appeared to love. You would be in a position to demand a future for them. I almost regret having given birth to them; they have nothing in the world but the tenderness of their father and mother!

Eugène, the best of husbands, is afflicted only because of us. He even regrets being my husband, being their father. This says it all. His tenderness is my only happiness; he will never lose mine, I will follow him everywhere, confident that he will never stray from the path of virtue and honour.

Because, let’s face it, he’s stupid like that.

This is the last letter you will receive from your daughter. My duty imposes silence on me as it has prescribed me to think of the fate of my children.

Once again I commend them to you, do not forget them. I count on your paternal tenderness, which politics has not been able to erase from your heart, just as nothing will ever make me forget the respect which your loving daughter owes you, my good father.

Both Eugène and Auguste also immediately informed Napoleon of these news (who in the meantime also had gotten a direct letter from Max Joseph) and assured the French emperor that they would of course remain loyally by his side and had broken off all communication with Bavaria. But in Frankfurt, among the Allies, Max Joseph seems to have brought up his daughter and son-in-law quite openly and frequently, speaking in their favour and trying to secure their fate in case Napoleon’s empire really fell. German newspapers speculated pointedly about the possibility that both Murat and Eugène might defect from Napoleon’s side. On October 24 Hortense already tells Eugène in a letter:

»It is said in Paris that the King of Bavaria wrote to you to offer you the kingdom of Italy, but that you refused: you see that people know you and that they can always predict what you would do if you found yourself in such a position.«

That is three weeks before such a proposal actually was made – obviously suspicions in Paris were high. I assume when Fouché visits Murat in Naples in December 1813 to make sure Murat stays on the right path, it’s no coincidence he also shows up in Milan.

#eugene de beauharnais #auguste #auguste of bavaria #viceroy #vice-queen #bavaria #king max joseph #max joseph #napoleon #joachim murat #italy1813 #some more family trouble #max is such a coward really

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sceosource · 4 years

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That’s a wrap! Thank you to everyone that participated in Sceo Week 2020! There were a lot of amazing works this year and we couldn’t be happier with the participation! Please continue to follow us for future Sceo events. :-)

Below is the round-up post for all the content that qualified for the event.

FICS (General - Mature)

Boardshorts and Bandsaws by Numendar Loss is not a fine cut thing, sometimes you have to lose to become more than you were.

I'd Give You My Sunshine by tiniestawoo (thosewhofall) Scott wasn’t exactly surprised that, of all the people who might call him from jail, it had been Theo’s voice on the other end of the line. What had surprised Scott, though, were the long silences and out of character insecurity in his voice. Stiles would undoubtedly have hung up the call and left Theo to face the consequences of whatever he was calling ‘wrong place, wrong time stuff’. But that just meant Scott knew he shouldn't.Ignoring someone who needed help had never really been Scott’s strong suit. For all the undeniable wrong Theo had done, when Scott asked him to step up and help them, he had.-Or the one where Theo Raeken used to be a sex worker, gets arrested, and throws a kink into Scott's carefully crafted sense normalcy.

tell me somethin' i ain't heard before by CerinityKS “So that alpha…” Scott started, voice tense. Theo nodded.“Not sure what, exactly, he would have done but it likely wouldn’t have been… pleasant.”“And when he said you belonged to me…”“Well,” Theo hedged, knowing his next words likely wouldn’t help. “He wasn’t completely wrong.”(or theo lets scott in on some truths about being an omega, scott loses his damn mind, and theo is annoyed but secretly loves it, really. as long as it doesn't kill him first.)

Under the Stars by TheKingsChimera First ever submission for Sceo Week. Hope you enjoy. Prompt is "First Time".

Matched by xartificialsweetnerx & DemonzDust Valentine’s Day is around the corner and Scott is in charge of his animal shelter’s holiday-themed adoption event. Little does Scott know that his perpetually single existence is preventing his best friend from finally tying the knot with his own match. And as for Theo? Well, he is just plain unable to admit he needs a match of his own.

What Should Have Been Ours II by DemonzDust After being kidnapped and tortured by Mr. Douglas, Theo has learned the truth about why the Dread Doctors chose him as a child. He now knows that Scott was supposed to be his soulmate, and that the Dread Doctors intentionally corrupted him to keep them apart. Now Scott saved him from Douglas's clutches, but the True Alpha has no idea what Theo learned and Theo plans on keeping it that way.

I shouldn't have ask. by Elit3 This is the third part of my series. This will explore Theo's childhood and his encounter with the dread doctors. There will also be Stiles' feelings about the chimera. Will the elders of the group finally accept Theo in the pack?

These violent delights by Prospero_Caliban After Theo has a very normal surgery Scott wants to start a relationship with him. Theo wants to make things right even if that means saying no. Making decisions is hard now that he thinks about others. give me your heart cuz i ain't gonna break it by CerinityKS “She said it was a gift,” he continued.Deaton glanced up in surprise. “A gift? Now that is interesting.”“Why? What is this stuff?” Liam asked.“A double-edged sword,” Deaton explained, then continued at their confused and, in Scott’s case, frustrated, expressions. “A gift is one way to describe it. This substance,” he swiped a finger through the powder coating Theo’s neck in demonstration, “is a type of hallucinogenic,” he explained.“So Theo is hallucinating right now?” Malia asked as she wrinkled her nose, clearly not seeing what was so bad about that.“In a sense,” Deaton agreed. “But it’s a very specific type of hallucination. See this substance is used to give the victim a glimpse of their soulmate.”(or theo gets whammied, scott freaks out, get jealous, and somehow the only two who don't see whats happening are theo and scott.) Dear Scott by DemonzDust SummaryIn a dusty shoebox tucked into the back corner of Scott’s closet there’s a box of letters from his secret grade school crush.

Damn be the body temperature. by Prospero_Caliban SummarySince his body temperature is lower than others Theo has to think about sharing this problem with Scott. New Wolf in the Old Guard by liliaeth SummaryAfter Scott is killed by hunters, he somehow manages to recover from what should be unsurvivable, even for an alpha. The worst part though, are the dreams, as he keeps dreaming of a woman locked in a coffin burried in the ocean. Termination Shock by Escalus Termination Shock: The point in space where the solar wind -- the pressure generated by the sun -- is finally overwhelmed by the strength of the interstellar medium. Often used to mark the end of our solar system.In other words, it is the point where everything you've ever known -- everything you could have possibly known -- has ended, and every step you take after that is into some vast new darkness, where the only source of light and comfort is that which you bring with you.Scott McCall, permanently blinded by his fight with the Anuk-Ite and ravaged by indescribable tragedy, embarks on a quest to stop Monroe from ruining any more lives. He won't risk anyone else he cares about on this dangerous mission, but he can't go alone. Who cares about Theo Raeken anyway?

FICS (Explicit)

Alpha Needs by DemonzDust As Scott turns into the six month anniversary of his eighteenth birthday his body begins to undergo a new transformation that threatens to drive him mad. After advice from Derek, he seeks release in the form of a chimera that’s been trying to worm his way back into the pack since summer started.

Where There’s a Waiter, There’s a Way by ColetheWolf Scott McCall and Derek Hale are celebrating their first year anniversary at a fancy restaurant, but Scott finds himself venturing into the realm of infidelity for the first time with the hot waiter, Theo Raeken. now all i want is your body close to mine by CerinityKS Theo had no idea how the fuck he’d gotten himself into this situation.This situation being Scott mouthing at his neck, the hot press of his body behind him as his hands worked their way under his shirt. Theo whined, heat racing through him as he pressed back against Scott, erection straining against his jeans.He could hear yelling in the other room, raised voices and the scent of anger attempting to penetrate through the haze of lust and want clouding his head. Scott, sensing his attention drifting, bit down sharply on the crook of his neck. Theo gasped and shuddered, going limp in Scott’s arms and trusting the alpha to keep him upright. Scott rewarded him with an apologetic lick at the angry wound as one of his hands dipped beneath the band of his jeans.(or the boys get whammied by sex pollen and uh, help each other out - including theo typical angst and a scott more in tune with his emotions than theo expected, but he's not complaining.)

There's Only One Van by TamerOfPickles Scott, Theo, Stiles, and Liam are on their first tour as an up and coming band. Their gigs don't pay much yet, so they save money sleeping in the back of their van while one of them drives to the next location. Being cooped up in a small space causes things to get a little more intimate than they expected.

Finding Something to Do by TamerOfPickles While searching the Dread Doctors' complex, Scott and Theo accidentally get trapped together in a bunker with a twenty-four hour lock.

The Trouble with Portals by VolsungartheMighty Stuck in quarantine, unable to visit each other, Theo and Scott are desperate for sex. Weeks locked away with only their hands for company, Theo manages to find something that might ease the tension.

i'm not tryna be your part time lover by CerinityKS “Whatever McCall,” Theo sneered, “suck my dick.”Not the best comeback but at this point Theo just wanted this confrontation to be over so he could head over to the gym and pound his frustration out on a punching bag. He didn’t expect Scott to stop, give him a considering look, then close the distance between them in a blink and drop to his knees. Theo stumbled back into the row of lockers behind him, eyes wide and ready to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing when Scott reached out, grabbed the band of Theo’s shorts and underwear, pull them down in one quick move, and then dart forward to take Theo’s into his mouth.(or theo and scott are dumb high school jocks who start blowing each other after school - featuring pining, dumb boys being dumb, jealousy, and their captive audience the rest of the beacon hills high students) See Me After Class by TheorianDG SummaryIt's not that Scott is surprised, there were always certain types that flocked to dating apps and truth be told he hadn't expected much. The first few he'd ignored but then came Theo, who on top of being genuinely interesting just so happened to be a student at the university. Christ, why did he let Stiles talk him into this?

It's a Long Way Home (When You're On Your Own) by clotpolesonly “I didn’t, like, come looking for you,” Scott finally managed. “I just caught your scent over at the…”At the gas station. Around behind the gas station, where all the most questionable smells were concentrated. The ones Scott had opted not to examine too closely. He still wasn’t sure that he wanted to.Instead, he blurted out, “Are you living in your car?”Theo’s pink cheeks grew pinker. His sharp eyes narrowed dangerously. “No, Scott, I’m putting myself up at the Hilton with the fortune I have in the bank.”It was Scott’s turn to flush.

Mistaken at first sight by Notsalony One time doesn’t mean anything, two times, usually means something, but three times, that clearly means something right? At least that’s how the pack feels. One Size fits my Boyfriend by Notsalony Scott and Theo are dating and they’re roughly the same size. So why shouldn’t they share clothes? Theo can’t think of one good reason either… even if it ends up with him naked a lot of the time.

VISUAL FAN WORKS (FAN ART, EDITS, AND GIFSETS)

Tyler Posey & Cody Christian on Wolf Watch by @sceosource

I’d Give You My Sunshine Promo by @tiniestawoo

Sceo Stydia Edit by @demonzdust

Theo staring at his salvation by @sceoedits

Alpha Needs Promo by @demonzdust

Sceo Commission for What Should Have Been Ours by @akimao

peace. // folklore by @tiniestawoo

First Time by @sceosource

Scott Protecting Theo, Teen Wolf 6x07 by @sceoedits

totally correct sceo texts by @demonzdust

Matched Promo by @demonzdust

Theo ‘Heart Eyes’ Raeken looking at Scott by @tiniestawoo

softer world by @tiniestawoo

Scott & Theo, Teen Wolf 5x09 (Ouroboros) by @sceoedits

Scott x Theo by @prrtnrr commissioned/posted by @demonzdust

What Should Have Been Ours II Promo by @demonzdust

Tyler Posey and Cody Christian Flirting at Comic-Con by @sceosource

When you’re thinking about your crush in class by @sceoedits

I’d Give You My Sunshine CH2 Promo by @tiniestawoo

Dear Scott Promo by @demonzdust

Lovestruck Theo by @sceoedits

Sugar, we’re going down swinging by @tiniestawoo

Sun and Moon by @testostones commissioned by @princeescaluswords

I’d Give You My Sunshine CH3 Promo by @tiniestawoo

IT’S A LONG WAY HOME Promo by @tiniestawoo posted by @clotpolesonly

A Hogwarts AU by @tabbytabbytabby

Saturday Night (Music Video) by @nyxelestia

#sceo #SceoWeek #scott mccall #theo raeken #teen wolf #cody christian #tyler posey

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crowley-fe11 · 3 years

Text

You both like ineffable husbands.

Stranger: [Soulmate AU: Aziraphale saw in Heaven's archives that his soulmate was Raphael. But Gabriel made him believe Raphael was his actual name.] Why was Gabriel to your bookshop? Are you in troubles, angel? C

You: Oh, no trouble at all. Quite the opposite, actually. A

Stranger: Which means? Heaven gaves you a better title? C

Stranger: (*gave oops)

You: Well, in the archives upstairs, it lists that Raphael is my soulmate. A And Gabriel just told me that happens to be his actual name. A

Stranger: [Delay] That sheming little bastard. C // Gabriel is just Gabriel, Aziraphale. Nobody else, not Raphael. He lied. C

You: What makes you so sure? A

Stranger: I just know it, angel. C

You: Why would he lie about something like that? A

Stranger: Because he's a bastard, and that he makes to manipulate you! C

You: But even if he is just Gabriel, he'd have a different soulmate, right? A

Stranger: I suppose. What's your point here? C

You: Wouldn't he be with them instead? A

Stranger: Maybe Gabriel's soulmate fell. C

You: You think that's really the case? A It seems impossible, just looking at all the other pairs... A

Stranger: Yeah, I think that's really the case. His soulmate fell, and knowing him, he'd rather manipulate you that accepting this fact. C // Aren't you relieved? Your one isn't Gabriel. C

You: I suppose a bit. A But I don't suppose you know if Raphael fell? Where he might be now? A

Stranger: [Long Delay] He fell. He's Downstairs, I'm sorry, Aziraphale. Your soulmate is a demon. C

You: Well, if he's anything like you are, then that wouldn't be so bad... A

Stranger: As if, not a heartless beast? Yeah. He's not. He's closer to me than to Lord Beelzebub, be reassured. C

You: That's a relief. A What else do you know? A

Stranger: He was the Starmaker, so after he fell and saw soothing stars for the first time... He thought She was throwing his creations out as a punishment. C // He would adore you, I'm certain of it. C

You: He sounds lovely... A Maybe you could introduce me at some point? A

Stranger: Are you sure? I mean, he's still a demon. And even if She decided for you, you don't have to accept Her choice. C

You: I think it would be worth at least meeting him. A

Stranger: ...I can give you his number so the both of you can talk first. C

You: That would be splendid! A I would greatly appreciate that, dear. A

Stranger: [Attached Number - still Crowley's but an another phone.] Yeah, sure. Wonderful. C

You: Thank you, Crowley! I'll let you know how it goes. A

You: [...] Would this number happen to belong to Raphael? A

Stranger: It does, indeed. You are? R

You: My name is Aziraphale. A mutual friend gave me your number. A According to the Heavenly Archive of Soulmates, we appear to be a match. A

Stranger: Ah, I see. Didn't ever think that old legend about matches would reach me eventually. I'm quite busy, I fear, and I'm rather certain you wouldn't like me nearly as much as you hope. R

You: I mean, I know it unheard of for angels to have a fallen soulmate, and I understand if it's seen as taboo on your side as well. A But I was hoping if you ever had the time to talk, if you want to, I could learn a bit more about you. A I've found myself admiring the stars more than once over the millennia, and it seems rather touching that it was your work... A

Stranger: The matches have been made by Her before the Rebellion, and since so many angels fell during it, it isn't surprising an angel can discover he has a fallen soulmate. Not that they could be blamed if they preferred ignoring this bit of information forever. My side doesn't see it as a taboo, more as some holy nonsense they don't want to interact with. R // Thank you. I'd be arrogant to say it was all mine, but almost all of them are my doing, especially the ones you can see from Earth. Got inspired by a pretty special angel for a few. R

You: Well, considering an angel I know just claimed to be you, I thought it might be worth knowing who you really are. A But I'd like to think I'm open-minded. My best friend is a demon, and he spoke well of you. And he's been fairly honest about most everything. A Though I am curious if that angel was anyone in particular... A

Stranger: [Delay] It was you. Aziraphale, still a Cherub back then. You don't remember, most angels don't have any memories of anything happening before Time was made. Only Archangels still have pieces of memories of that time, since they had been created first. You were radiant, Aziraphale. Shining of joy, of curiosity. I even made... Ha. Alpha Centauri thinking about you. R

You: I'll definitely look for that system more closely from now on, then. A But I wish I remember you better. You seem absolutely lovely. A Perhaps if you ever have the time, we could meet up for lunch or something? A

Stranger: ...No. Won't be possible. You wouldn't like me, trust me. R // I'm hurt. Burned. Yes, that's it, I've been seriously burned during my fall. R

You: I mean, if there's anything I can do to help, I'd be more than willing. A Besides, if She made us a match, I'm sure that would transcend anything. A

Stranger: Don't you want to use your free will instead, angel? Instead of following her idea, why don't you find yourself someone you love? R

You: In a way, I used my free will to reach out to you, didn't I? A It was her decision to cast you out after the Rebellion, so it weren't for the connections I have, I would have never known what happened to you. A

Stranger: Such a fortunate event, isn't it? That you know Crowley too. He's a bit annoying sometimes, don't you think? R // I suppose you're right, you're using your free will to contact me. Howewer, you wouldn't be interested in me if it wasn't for that match. R

You: Oh, I wouldn't say that. He's been wonderful company to me. A Well, I'm at least curious what She had in mind for me. You and I could end up becoming friends, or maybe something more, or you might wish not to speak to me after this, but in the very least, I might learn something from it, right? A

Stranger: C'me on, it's just us, here. Crowley is not terrible but he is quite flawed. I bet you're relieved to have anyone but him as your fallen soulmate. R // From what I understood, this system is one of a partners for eternity. It goes beyond friendship or romantic features, it should make you say: 'I trust them with my life, and I know they'll always be here.' A never leaving shadow, I'd say. R

You: I mean, to put it quite simply, I'm not exactly a perfect angel either. And I think most everyone has their flaws. A But that is an interesting take on it. It's comforting, and maybe a bit familiar... Or maybe I've been yearning for something like that all these years. A

Stranger: A bit familiar? What do you mean? You have lived something like this already? R // It's the most incredible feeling one could dream of. This is truly a gift from Her, and the fact fallen ones are allowed to still feel it... I must say, it's great. R

You: Or maybe I've just imagined it. I've been told more than once I'm far too hopeful and optimistic. A Wait, have we crossed paths on earth? A

Stranger: [...] Oh, yeah. We have, a few times. I'm fairly often on Earth, so we certaintly saw each other, from a distance. I won't blame you if you forgot me. R

You: I wish I knew who you were. I'm sorry, dear. A Another question that comes to mind- if you don't mind answering it, that is. Does every demon just address angels as 'angel'? A Crowley does that quite a lot, and you happened to do that earlier, too. A

Stranger: Don't worry and don't apologize. Even if you think you don't know me, a part of you does and it's what matters. Furthermore, you only learned of my existence recently and we have all time in the world. R // ...Your name is complicated to remember, it's an angelic one. Potential holy one, it'd sting. It's just easier to give you that nickname. R

You: That's rather interesting, still. A But I'm rather looking forward to getting to know you better. Just talking to you, it feels like I've known you all along. A

Stranger: [Long Delay] I lied. Your name isn't complicated nor painful to say, Aziraphale. It's just me, I can not stop calling you angel. R // Fuck, you must think I'm awful and cruel. R

Stranger: (Sorry, my Wifi glitched. Did you receive my reply?)

You: (Yeah, I got it :) )

Stranger: (Great, thanks!))

You: Darling, it's fine, please don't worry. A I also realise this was all out of the blue, so I understand if it's a lot right now. A

Stranger: I panicked. You wanted to talk to Raphael, and I made all this up. That's pathetic. Not the part about the stars, this is real. And you having met Raphael before Eden, it was true too. R

You: Then could you tell me the truth? A

Stranger: I'm Raphael. I mean, I was before I fell. C

You: My dear, why didn't you just tell me? A I was already rather hoping it might be you on the other end, to be honest. A

Stranger: I was afraid you'd feel forced to stay around me because it's what She decided. I didn't want you to. If you are around me, I'd rather if it was your choice, because you enjoy my presence. C

You: Crowley, soulmate or not, I'd always want you around. You mean the entire world to me. A

Stranger: And you mean the entiere universe to me, angel. C

You: Would you be able to come by? A I was thinking we could share bottle of wine or two, maybe begin making up for the last six thousand years of not realising we're soulmates... A

Technical error: Server was unreachable for too long and your connection was lost. Sorry. :( Omegle understands if you hate it now, but Omegle still loves you.

GAHHHHHHH I WANT TO KEEP GOING

#ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #crowley #azirafell #good omens #good omens rp #soulmate au #omegle roleplay #omegle rp #lost rp #please message me

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