#i am an old lady and i am disgusted i am still forced to deal with these people

[allhailthe70shousewife]

Go crawl back under your rock, Forced Birth Advocate. I don’t go looking for your posts and comment my beliefs on them. Keep your self-righteous, holier than thou, clueless, fascist bullshit off of mine.

[kookiecrumb]

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

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5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

~

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say no to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

knight!natasha x lady!reader

sort of royalty au (there’s social hierarchy and a king and queen and knights and commoners and all that so- yeah it’s a royalty au nvm lmao)

warnings: this is fluff, angst, uh, basically everything but smut and serious angst.

word count: 2.5k, starting off short before we get into this 

part one!

also, to the very few people who look for fics up here- i promise i’m alive, sorry for being m.i.a! work and school are bodying me right now 

A lot could change within a year.

In a year, one was expected to grow wiser and older, and for you, because you were a woman, prettier. And because you did all three of those things in one year, you were herded off like cattle from your small farm, where the old pig you would soon be forced to call “husband” had seen you in the first place, and carted away to his large estate. You were supposed to be his wife, bear his children, and love him unconditionally even though you knew nothing about him, and he was supposed to do not even half of that for you. He had chosen you purely because your father had an abundance of wheat and animals, and he thought you were nice looking. He would surely never go hungry if he had the owner of a relatively large farm’s daughter with him.

Regardless of his reasoning for wanting to make you his wife, it ended up happening. You cried yourself to sleep the night before, and when you were done consummating the horrid marriage, you cried after he fell asleep, unable to shut your own eyes. That was how you spent your first night at the female counterpart to your lord husband, and as Lady Mirellis.

The marriage was loveless. The only thing you got out of it was a nice roof over your head and some silky clothing that made you feel like you were betraying who you really were. He was a brute and a pig, and he hardly ever spoke to you other than to tell you to get on your back, your knees, or something else as equally vile. You were the lady of his large manor, considered a small castle, but that was all you were. You made friends with the staff around, and that made things just the tiniest bit better. He was still cruel and crude, still insanely aggravating, and getting more and more angry with each month that you weren’t carrying his child.

And then, all of a sudden, he grew ill. And, within a month after he fell ill, he died. And then you were a single woman who had a large estate to her name, and a growing line of suitors who wanted nothing more than to have their last names attached to the great patch of land. You were the lady of the house without a lord, still young and still capable of marriage. After a large fuss over whether or not a young woman from your background was fit to take over, you had inherited everything.

So, yes, a lot could change in a year. And you decided that the changes that took place in that year were ones that you could barely handle.

§§

You knew exactly what the letter with the King’s Seal on it was when it was put into your hand, and you very easily guessed the contents of it.

You supposed that you should have seen it coming. Miraculously, your late husband and lord had gotten out of the Hosting, which could have been seen as treasonous or dishonorable if he had been any less careful. You grew up on a farm, and you had no idea how to go about denying or questioning royal decree, so you weren’t going to. You were going to have to Host, for the first time in your life.

Your family was never important enough to have to do it, so you had no experience with it, other than knowing that a high up lord of a small castle, or big estate, whatever one wanted to call it, was in charge of having a knight in their home while the knight completed his year long training. The training was said to come from within, and the job of the knight was to be a good, honorable guest, and to come back to the castle after their year expired as a new and improved person.

But it was rare that they truly soul searched, you had heard. Mainly because they were ninety nine percent male and thought with their penises more than their brains and hearts. The Hosting was a knight’s last stop before true knighthood, more or less a time that humbled young knights. It was a test of the true intentions of a knight, the true desires of a man who wished for glory and authority.

“For you, Milady.” You grimaced inwardly at the title, the title that you used to have to call the lady that you used to bring barrels of hay to on Sunday mornings. You nodded at the young boy, a smile on your face. He was new, and it was clear that this was his first task that involved him to speak to a “higher up” person.

You patted his head. “Thank you,” you said, and his eyes widened comically before he laughed and ran away, obviously shocked by the way you spoke to him back.

It wasn’t against the law, but it was frowned upon for nobles to speak to servants more than necessary. A noble person was not required to have manners or ask kindly for things, and when they did, it was certainly an out of the ordinary experience. You knew that well enough.

You broke the red seal and took in a deep breath, going to sit at your late husband’s desk (that you of course inherited, as you inherited everything the man had) and finding your name in perfect and Royal handwriting.

Lady Mirellis,

As you know, the time for the selection of The Hosting has come. Your house was not a host during the previous Hosting, therefore, you will be required to sponsor a knight this year. Out of respect for your late husband and all he has done for me, I will choose a knight for you, a knight that I trust. You will be safe with my choice, and the year will flow smoothly. Once again, I am sorry for your loss.

Please expect your knight within the fortnight, Lady Mirellis.

With respect, King Anthony Stark.

§§

Two weeks later, your keep was buzzing. You hated hosting things, even if they were short dinners. And you knew that you were going to hate hosting a person for an entire year. A brand new knight who was full of himself, no less.

King Anthony had given you what he thought was going to be an easy charge for a reason. New knights were known for being rowdy, disgusting, perverted, and authoritative when they shouldn’t have been. No lady should ever have to deal with the crude words or behavior of a man—certainly not. And with you and your poor husband gone, that meant that no one was there to help you.

You appreciated the kindness, but it was obvious that every man thought that women were only an extension of their husbands. If you weren’t able to handle the loud voices and taunting shouts of men and boys, you would have melted or turned to dust by the time you were thirteen years old. If you had survived a man who carted you off and away from your family like you were cattle, you could handle a boy who was staying under your roof.

Nonetheless, your people were busy, and so were you. They were making accommodations to the largest guest room, because it was to be someone’s for an entire year. They were cleaning things that you never thought would be cleaned, washing random sheets and hanging them to dry. And you? You were making the welcoming package.

You had never made one before, but you were trying your hardest. It was more or less a care package to make the knight feel comfortable. It was a starter kit, so that they wouldn’t have to ask for much or seem unfit for knighthood, because it was all about pride. So help anyone above, you wouldn’t be dealing with a knight with a bruised ego.

“Men,” you scoffed out, rolling your eyes as you fluffed the silk pillowcase and folded the top of the woven basket over, closing in everything and tying the top with a bow. 

“Y/N,” a woman’s voice called out, and you turned to it with a gentle smile.

Of course it was Wanda. Her and her brother were always by your side, ever since you had arrived at the keep. Pietro was the messenger boy for Lord Mirellis, because he was so fast on his feet. He delivered a message meant to go hundreds of leagues away and came back within days, when it would take others weeks. You liked Pietro a lot. He was a funny man, cheeky, but he knew his boundaries with people, whether they were lowborn or highborn. He had the same amount of respect for everything, and you admired that about him.

Wanda however, was your favorite person in the castle. She was the first kind face that you saw when you walked into the keep. She was the first person to actually ask you if you wanted help being dressed or brushing your hair. She was able to see that you needed help with your corset before you even asked. There were so many trivial things that Wanda did for you that made you so loyal to the friendship you shared, but there was one thing you were sure to never forget.

She had been the one to help you out of bed after a rough consummation night. She was also the only woman who had offered you even a sliver of sympathy, and for that, she was your greatest ally, and on a deeper level, a true friend. 

You had barely even seen her for more than five minutes before you woke up in bed by yourself the morning after that horrid night, crying silent tears and feeling sore between your legs. A knock sounded on the door, and instead of her turning away and apologizing for coming in on such an improper moment, she shut the door and asked you if you needed help, without any fear of being scolded. Wanda Maximoff was different. That’s why you liked her so much.

She was standing beside you as you waited, even though waiting for a knight was somewhat improper. You were supposed to wait inside and have them knock on your castle door, and you were to welcome them inside and have a warm dinner ready. That was how it was always supposed to go, but you decided not to do that.

You were standing outside, like the lady you had been forced to become. Your chin was slightly lifted and your hands were at your sides, even though you were desperate to fiddle with your thumbs. You took in a deep breath as you heard the sound of a carriage coming, horses and the chatter of men getting louder with each passing moment.

You would be a liar if you said that you weren’t scared to have a man in your house that you didn’t know. Not only would he be a man, but he would be a man that knew how to do things that most didn’t, such as how to properly wield a sword. You were a woman alone, a widow to a lord, and people had tried things with you before, ever since your husband had died. Most of the time, those things ended up with their hands being cut off as the legal and unyielding punishment for their attempted crimes.

“No one here is going to let a stupid knight hurt you, you know.” Pietro had come out of nowhere, chest puffed out as he looked to his sister for a moment, and then back at you. “Wanda is practically with you every second of every day, and I’m never too far.” It was true. There were guards around, as well, but you were still scared.

“If you don’t like it this year, you can always say no next year.” Wanda offered, but you whined under your breath when you remembered that this was no visit. The man would be living with you for an entire year. “And King Anthony said he would be giving you a man he trusted to sleep under your roof. I trust his word.” 

“As do I,” you said quickly, ringing out your hands one last time before the carriage got closer. “I’ll be fine, you two. Thank you.” And they knew just how grateful you were for them.

The carriage was being pulled by two white horses, both looking around carelessly and cluelessly as the coachman pulled them to a stop. “Lady Mirellis,” he said, looking you up and down, clearly judging you for not yielding to tradition. “It is very kind of you to meet us outside.”

“I thought it may be easier to begin the tour early,” you said, remembering at the last moment to school your voice into sounding ladylike. The stark difference between your public voice and the one that you spoke to Wanda and Pietro with always made Wanda smile a bit, and you knew that you would have laughed if you were looking at her. “I don’t want to give my new guest too large of a culture shock. I am not quite sure if he would appreciate being hoarded inside a place he hasn’t seen before.”

The coachman gave you an odd look, almost like he wasn’t understanding what you were saying. Or maybe, why you were saying it. But, he knew that because of your status, your word outweighed his, and he would do as you said. Your heart was beating nearly out of your chest as you watched him climb out of his chair and walk around, and you saw his hand wrap around the handle of the white and gold carriage.

There was a flash of brilliant red. That was all you saw at first, and then you saw shiny armor, glinting in the sun. Your eyes trailed up from the shoes that you knew were crafted specifically for knights, up to the legs and then to the breastplate, which you noticed was curved outwards. Your brows furrowed as your eyes got stuck in that place, and you willed yourself to believe that it was a trick of the eyes. There was a pinch on your arm, and you realized that you had been staring without speaking for much too long. In your embarrassment, your eyes flickered up to meet the man’s, and then, you nearly choked.

The knight was no man at all.

*****

so this is a series! this idea has been cooking up in my head for a while now, and i figured it was finally time to go through with it! i’m really excited about this one, and i’ve already got most of it planned out. i hope you guys liked this!

also- if you would like to be tagged, you are free to ask! (bold of me to assume that any of y’all want a notif for this bye 😭) please interact with this if you liked it, it makes me so happy and motivated to hear from you guys!

[xhanisai]

Confront the boundary line of good and evil in my heart

AO3 / FFN

Summary: 

It wasn't her fault! No way whatsoever! But still... Still... 'It really does hurt so bad...so much, I can't take it!'

~(x)~ . . . Tick. Tock. "I'm so sorry Chat Noir! I didn't mean to- I just- I just completely broke down and she was right there and I needed someone-" "It's okay, Bug. I understand, don't apologise," Tick. Tock. "It's not okay at all! You've wanted to know for so long, so patiently and I have always said no- and then look at me now! A hypocrite! This is probably a huge sucker-punch for you and I hate that I've always kept on hurting you back then but now, this takes the cake-" "N-No, I'm fine, honest...really. What matters is your happiness and wellbeing-" "But what about you!?" "..." Tick- "...Kid, talk to me, please. The way you're staring out into space is scaring me." The subdued, raspy voice belonging to the ancient being of destruction went unheard. The boy in question continued to observe the empty space in front, sitting on top of his bed with his knees tucked under his chin and his arms folded in front, hiding the lower half of his face. If one were to enter the room, they would instantly freeze from the glower of the boy's fiery emerald greens that were begging to pool with unshed tears and the aura of his stone-cold demeanour. From the waft of his internal turmoil, even a blind person would be able to pick up that he was currently the host of bad luck. "...Adrien...I want to help, I want to understand, so talk to me!" Once again, Plagg was left ignored, leaving him no choice but to float back down to his pillow and direct his pleading kitten eyes at the blonde, his tiny heart shattered from the state of his chosen. Alas, even he was helpless, his feline ears and whiskers drooping with sorrow. 'But you won't understand. You never did and you never will. No one will ever understand.' Adrien didn't even flinch, didn't even bat an eye. He was a statue of apathy and aloofness; though deep down inside, he was a maelstrom of agonising pain. Oh, so much pain. It was excruciating. He wanted to suit up and claw through the rooves of Paris whilst screaming in anguish. He wanted to find every billboard that had his face on it and tear through it all like paper. He wanted to shred and pulverise his useless, traitorous heart along with its despicable feelings and emotions. But most importantly, he wanted to rip the magical ring off his finger and throw it into La Seine with all his might and then cry for the rest of eternity. And he hates that he feels that way. Absolutely, ridiculously, hates that he feels betrayed. Self-loathing and disgust have taken over his body like a puppet and rendered him completely useless, like a toy forgotten at the bottom of the box, never to see the light of day ever again. The feeling of uselessness and pure shame replaced the blood running through his veins and numbed him to the point where he was equivalent to a powerless machine. He felt his throbbing heart fall deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach. It wasn't her fault! No way whatsoever! But still... Still... 'It really does hurt so bad...so much, I can't take it!' The younger, softer, naive part of himself which was usually tucked away within the dark, hidden crevices of his heart, screamed as if the rest of humanity's lives depended on it. It was taking Adrien everything to keep him out. 'Is it too much to ask for only one constant in my life? Is it too much to ask for one thing to remain the same? Is it too much for anyone to stop keeping me at arm's length!?' . It is. . It is. . Deep down inside, below the platinum chains and iron bars of solid, concrete denial, he always knew that Ladybug never considered him as close as he did with her. And why should she? Just because he performed an act of common, proper human decency and helped an old man get his walking stick back? Just because he was gifted with the power to destroy anything he touches in order to save the day? Just because he knew how to fight possessed villains alongside her? Just because he's in love with her? . "I'm literally the worst." Adrien finally spoke out loud ever since he returned from...that patrol many hours ago. Despite his words, his soul couldn't help but weep and pray that it was all one huge, cruel nightmare. A twisted, sick joke that whatever deities out there have concocted up just for him. Anything! Yet, this was his reality. "I disagree." The boy snapped his gaze towards the kwami, his brows furrowing for elaboration on the little God's part. "I may not be human but I do have feelings and I can empathise. I've existed from the beginning of time and I've witnessed many, many things in my lifetime." Plagg then floated towards him, settling on Adrien's arm so that he was face to face. "You're not in the wrong here, kid. It's okay to feel like this-" "No, it's not!" Adrien's sudden outburst had the kwami shoot away in surprise, the boy instantly turning baffled at his own harsh reaction and then visibly paling even further. He caught sight of his own reflection on a nearby mirror, cringing at the monstrous mess that looked back. With a frustrated sigh, he leapt off the bed, solemnly treading towards his windows, fingers digging into his upper arms as if he was hugging himself. . The luminous moon that shone through the night sky, what was once a beacon of freedom in the past, never looked so unappealing to the distraught hero. His usually glittering eyes were vacant, devoid of any joy and hope whilst his lips were etched in a permanent frown. How many fake smiles and empty words of wisdom did he force out in front of his Lady earlier on? He's lost count. And how many more times will he have to keep doing that, knowing that there will always be another person out that there that Ladybug trusts more than she'll ever trust him? . "I stand by with what I said," Plagg quipped once more, his host quietly surprised with how the little God managed to get so close without him realising. "The two of you have been thrust into a messy situation with very little guidance and a whole bunch of rules which only complicated it further." He then directed his eyes from the moon to the boy. "Yes, I agree that Ladybug's decision in confiding with someone about her identity was a good idea, but as a result of that, it's brought you so much pain. You are not the worst and it's okay to cry it out. It's okay to tell her how you really feel." He placed one of his tiny hands on Adrien's cheek, ears and whiskers still weighed with melancholy as the boy allowed his eyes to prick with tears. One drop. Two drops. Three drops. Four. "It shouldn't hurt- I...I shouldn't be so selfish! Even if she never told me, I was able to tell that she wasn't able to handle her civilian life any longer, especially after becoming the Guardian- I'm supposed to protect her and be by her side! Not throw a tantrum like a three-year-old just because I'm not the one she decided to tell about her secret identity! And then adding my own stupid feelings and insecurities to her plate? I'll be a burden!" The dam was broken and the overwhelming feelings within Adrien cascaded like a tsunami. "You have plenty on your plate as well-" "But I'm used to it, she isn't. I was born and raised to deal with these kinds of things anyway so it's a no brainer for me to shut up and accept it all with a smile-" He paused abruptly, a wet gasp escaping his throat as he leaned against the glass for support when even more realisation sunk in. 'I have been dealing with so many responsibilities ever since I was born...and that puts us on the same boat...so why couldn't she have confided with me then?' Adrien dropped to his knees, fingernails scraping against his scalp as he tried to fight back against those negative thoughts and questions. 'Why am I never good enough? Not for Maman, not for Père and now...not for Ladybug...?' 'Why am I even here then?'

"Adrien...you don't need to put a mask on when you're with me. Cry it all out. I'm not gonna sit by and watch you destroy yourself from inside out because of your inability to address your true feelings. I'm right here, I'll even destroy all the wretched butterflies that dare to come by- so please, let it all out," "I can't! If I do, I'll never be able to go back and nothing will be the same again-" "And if you don't, then things will change for the worse and trust me, kid, that is the last thing you need." Finally, Plagg's words unravelled the obstacles that slowed down the flood and Adrien couldn't help but give in. His body shook and a whole new fresh wave of tears pooled down his eyes, teeth biting down on his lip to prevent the sobs from bursting out. . "...It hurts Plagg...it hurts so much! I love her...and I trust her so much but it hurts! I know she trusts me on a level and I know that multiple times she's mentioned that I'm irreplaceable but dammit! Why does it all feel like a lie!? She did the right thing in telling her civilian best friend, she finally has someone to look after herself- but why does it feel so wrong? Why is my heart in so much pain? Why can't I stop crying? If Ladybug won't lean on me, then what am I here for? And if I can't lean on Ladybug...who...who do I have?" . "...I may not be much and I may talk about nothing but cheese...but you'll always have me, kid," "I want to believe you, I want to so badly, Plagg...but I can't. I feel so alone...I've always been alone... ...And I'll always be alone..." . . . A couple of hours ago, just shy under midnight on a lone, hidden rooftop, if a curious civilian looked up, they would have seen Ladybug and Chat Noir locked in an embrace. However, what they would have noticed first was the absolutely broken, heartwrenching expression Noir wore... ...As if his entire world has fallen apart... . . . ~(x)~ A/N: Just wondering if I should make a sequel and give these two poor cats a happy ending~

[whispering-about-loki]

A Little theory regarding the Loki series

Warning! Image-heavy!

I am going to preface this by saying that this won’t happen. Well, maybe it won’t. Most of it won’t. Maybe some of it will. So SPOILER warning, in case it does. 

I’ll put some of my thought process in a note at the end.

---------

After Loki is arrested and brought before court to be charged for his part in certain time crimes, Mobius M. Mobius takes him “somewhere to talk”. He shows Loki snippets of how his life would have gone if he hadn’t skipped out with the Tesseract, then he tells him that he needs his help. Someone has been causing changes throughout history, making a myriad of variant timelines. Mobius believes that someone is taking advantage of their position in the TVA to cause this chaos; but his superiors refuse to believe that any of their ranks would behave in such a manner. So Mobius figures that if you want to handle chaos, you need to embrace chaos, and without consulting his superiors about it, he offers the God of Mischief a deal: help him find and bring back the rogue agent, and Loki will get his freedom. 

It is, of course, against the rules; but Mobius is willing to bend the rules a bit, if it means ending the time incidents. Loki agrees, thinking he will be able to use the situation to escape. But Mobius understands Loki’s thought process and warns him that if he strays from his assignment, he will be brought right back to the TVA. Loki being Loki, though, does try to skip out; but after he is zipped right back to the TVA a couple times, he doesn’t try it again.

Loki then does what he agreed to, slipping through time with Mobius and looking for the cause of the chaos. Disconcertingly, though, Loki’s power and strength begin to diminish, to the point where simple attacks he should have been able to easily counter are enough to take him down. Mobius says he doesn’t know why it is happening.

After a while Mobius's superiors suspect he is up to something, so he begins sending Loki out on his own, staying behind at the TVA to keep the others off his trail. Loki still doesn't like being in someone's "servant", and he resents being kept on such a tight temporal leash; but he continues reporting back to Mobius. While on assignments, Loki occasionally ends up preventing disasters that the “Agent of Chaos” had set in motion; though he also can’t help but make some “small” changes to the timeline, himself.

Mobius tells him to be more careful, or he might cause unforeseen effects. When Loki scoffs at this, Mobius asks him if he wants to see the world where he “won” the battle of New York. Mobius doesn’t wait for Loki’s answer, but immediately ships Loki off to an apocalyptic-looking New York City. When Loki gets there, the air is cold to the point where he can see his own breath, and it is utterly silent. A result, it appears, of not only the Chitauri attack, but of the bomb that the Humans used to try to wipe out the invading army. Apparently, the only ones that got wiped out were the Humans -- Avengers and all.

Loki wanders around the desolation for a while, until he is at last found by a roving group of ragged men. They seem to recognize him and he is brought to the leader of the city, who happens to be himself. Boss-Loki has gone a bit around the bend, though. He has been stuck in this place for years since the attack, and has carved himself out a little “kingdom” in the ruins, based in an old arcade. Our Loki is shocked and almost disgusted to see how far he has fallen. When Boss-Loki’s men turn on him because of this other Loki’s presence, though, our Loki gets caught up in the fighting. He calls out to Mobius that he has made his point, and to get him out of there.

Loki goes on doing his “job” then, being more careful with time. At long last, he finds a strange object at the scene of one of the chaotic events, and he brings it back to Mobius, who recognizes it as something he had taken from one of the young agent recruits, a girl named Sylvie. Mobius explains that some of the agents in the TVA are clones (like himself), but that some are recruited at a young age by the TVA because they show special abilities. Sometimes these recruitments occur from outside the main timeline, which is where they found Sylvie. Not only was she a gifted individual, but the TVA records showed that she should not have existed in the first place; so they took her in to train her, and also so that her presence would not disrupt the flow of time. 

Mobius and Loki go to confront her in her room, but she is gone. Mobius feels responsible because it was he that “recruited” Sylvie. Additionally, he knew that she had a habit of slipping through time on “joy rides” and coming back with souvenirs, which was strictly against the rules. She always seemed innocent, though, so he went easy on her about it. Hidden in a drawer in her room, they find other “souvenirs”, and Loki notes that some of them have Asgardian runes on them. Mobius says that Sylvie is human, according to her genetic code, so he doesn’t understand what she is doing with the runes. 

As they ponder the meaning of this, an alarm sounds in the TVA headquarters, and they know something terrible is happening in some variant timeline. They leave Sylvie’s room to try to get to the portals to take them to the time-incident; but on the way, some TVA agents try to stop them. They claim that Loki is the rogue element that has been causing all of the chaos, and that he needs to be “erased” as soon as possible. 

Mobius pretends to be on the agents' side, then sets them off-guard so Loki can get to the scene of chaos. After fighting his way through the Minutemen that are guarding the portals, Loki arrives when/where Sylvie is--at a quarry mine--the moon is shattered and the fragments are falling to the Earth. 

Loki runs to get to safety, and the ground opens up as the mine before him collapses, blocking him off from the now-adult Sylvie, who is staring up at the falling moon. She turns and looks at him just as the ground completely falls out from underneath him.

Suddenly the world around him stills and he lands hard on the ground. He struggles to his feet and looks up to see that everything has frozen around him. As he is standing there, gaping in disbelief, he turns and sees Sylvie standing beside him. She is wearing clothing very similar to his old Asgardian outfit, and she is smiling at the destruction and chaos before them.

“Hello, Father,” she says. “Have I made you proud?”

-------

-------

Notes: 

SPOILERS below.

My main thought was that since Cailey Fleming is listed as playing “Young Sylvie”, that would imply the presence of an older Sylvie. Otherwise, she would have been listed as “Sylvie”. Sylvie Lushton being the girl that Loki, in the comics, empowered and/or created, and who later became a version of Enchantress. 

That is who I think Sophia Di Martino is playing as an adult, rather than Lady Loki, like I used to think. Her hair is the wrong color to be Loki, for one thing; and she has been shown filming in the same location as Tom Hiddleston, who was wearing an Agent outfit at the time. I’m not gonna put the set photos here, but you know the ones... the pictures where she is wearing just about the same outfit as Loki has in the past. And we know that this character is the one that is causing the chaos, because in those set photos she is wearing a certain pair of boots and fingerless gloves, both of which are freeze-frame bonusses on the “mystery figure” in the trailer (when she drops the lantern and lifts her hands to her hood).

I’d also like to point out that she is wearing what appears to be a sword on her hip:

Anyway, I figure it goes something like this: 

Sylvie exists because another version of Loki had adopted her when he discovered that she had talents close to his own. He had begun training her how to use magic; but he was not so good a teacher as Frigga was, and the training was complicated by her wily and independent nature. Loki in that timeline died, though, leaving Sylvie alone. 

The TVA (specifically, Mobius) took her in, but because of her abilities, she was naturally able to slip through time, create illusions, age herself up and down, etc. Eventually, she decided she would “make her father proud” by sowing chaos. The thing is, she has grown stronger and more chaotic since Loki showed up at the TVA, because she has been inadvertently drawing his power and life force from him -- basically depowering him to charge herself up (c’mon... he gets laid out by a Roomba...). In fact, the draining of his life-force was what killed her “father” in her own timeline, though she didn’t know it.

Additionally (and on another note), the Loki series is said to be a “crime thriller” with sci-fi aspects; so while Loki tracking down a rogue time-agent seems to be a pretty straightforward idea, it could be given a nice twist at the end by having the rogue element not be an agent, but someone of Loki’s own making. And it would be one hell of a cliffhanger for the next season.

And... that’s all I got for now.

[spooky-z]

HIT

Maribat by @ozmav

Warnings: aggression and language

Almost 3K.

All Marinette could see was red, purple and yellow against pale skin.

It was mostly red, the edges already becoming purple and around a sick yellow.

She could blink, look away, try to think of something else, but the image was glued to her eyes.

The anger burning under the skin, the blood running hot in her veins, heart beating angrily against her ribs. She could feel the metallic taste of the cut that her teeth opened on her lip.

Marinette had never felt more hatred for anyone than she did at that moment.

She wanted to jump the jugular and pull out the trachea with her teeth.

The urge to kill.

"... you better get away from her." Damian growled. His face contorted with disgust.

“Who do you think you are to intrude on a family affair?!” Audrey Bourgeois stood, arrogant and pompous, glancing disdainfully at the Pack.

Chloe by her side, her eyes puffy, hair down shadowing her face and lips trembling from holding back the crying. The handprint on the pale cheek was obvious and clearly visible despite the hair to cover.

She didn't dare look at her friends. At the pack. The humiliation was a heavy feeling, seeming worse every moment she heard the shutter sound of a phone camera toward her.

Dupont would have something to talk about for weeks now.

"... who does he think he is?!" Kagami says. She was the only one who seemed coolly calm. "Who YOU think you are." There were more than sharp words coming out. There were canines becoming sharper by the moment and a lack of control going on.

Audrey seems offended by the girl’s words.

"Lower your tone, young lady." She replies. Her tone was threatening. “Do you know who you are talking to? I'm Audrey Bourgeois, one of the greatest designers of the world. Wife of the mayor of Paris. And I can end your family's life in two seconds.”

Adrien smiles mockingly at the woman's words. "I'd love to see that happen... Auntie."

The woman chokes offended at the nickname, but doesn't seem surprised by the boy's behavior.

She raises her eyebrow.

"When Gabriel told me that you were in your rebel phase and that you were taking Chloe the wrong way, I really didn't believe it." She says. "But I see this time he has some reason to warn me."

The Pack grunts at the man's name.

"I knew that piece of trash wouldn't be quiet." Max mutters venomously.

"It's time we put an end to this old man." Kim mumbles back.

Audrey seemed to tire of all the little show they were giving Dupont's students and grabbed Chloe's arm, trying to pull the girl into the limo parked on the sidewalk.

“Come on Chloe, you have to pack your bags. We leave for New York today.” She turns, ignoring the Pack.

Something pops in Marinette, because all she can do is slap Audrey's hand away from Chloe and put herself between them. She probably looked like a wild animal right now.

The stylist shrugs her arm, holding her injured hand. Red face in indignation.

"Don't touch her." Marinette says. "Or I'll be forced to do something you won't like."

“Oh? What are you going to do? Tell your parents? You're nobody, little girl.” Audrey laughs sarcastically. “Chloe, let's go. Now."

"Nette, please, I don't want you to get in trouble." Chloe whispers, the pain was clear in the words.

The sound that comes from Marinette's chest is animalistic. The sound made the Pack shudder with the force and the dark feeling dripping into it.

Marinette would not let Chloe be taken. Not by Audrey, at least.

She doesn't look away from the adult Bourgeois before firing commands at the Pack.

"Damian, call Richard." The boy is quick to pick up the phone. “Adrien, call Clark and Lois. Let them know they can release that story in the newspaper.” The blonde doesn't even blink at the command. “Kim, Max and Luka, take Chloe to my house and don't let her out of sight.” Max and Kim surround Chloe and she gets carried away.

"Are you sure you want me to go, Mari?" Luka asks quietly, hesitating to leave. He knew that Damian and Adrien were not good at being Marinette's conscience in difficult situations. "I can stay and Adrien go with Chloe."

Marinette waves denying it. She looks at him just fast enough to calm him down before turning her attention back to Audrey.

“Kagami will stay with me and can keep me from doing something extreme.” Responds. "Chloe will need you more now."

“Alright, bu-”

"I'll call if I need support." Kagami is quick to answer him.

Luka hesitates for two more seconds before running after the other three who were waiting in the car with Auguste (aka Gorilla).

When only Damian, Marinette, Adrien and Kagami were left with Audrey (besides the audience watching), Marinette calmed down. The heated air was suddenly getting cold.

She was ready to attack.

“Do you really think hiding Chloe from me is going to work? I am her mother! The first lady! I run this town!” Audrey starts to scream. "Nothing you do will stop me from taking my daughter away from this... filthy relationship going on here."

Kagami steps forward wanting to attack the woman, but Adrien holds her hand and she stops, coming back to herself.

Damian had hung up the phone signaling an "OK" with his fingers.

"How about you shut up?" He says. “Keep talking will only make your situation worse.”

“Make my situation worse? What the hell are you talking about?!”

"He's talking about you getting arrested." Marinette replies without emotion. "Assault on a minor, threats, conspiracy with another adult to kidnap a child... There is a long list of your crimes."

Audrey looks attacked by Marinette's words, but also snorts in confusion.

“Conspiracy to kidnap a child?!” She grits her teeth. “Look at me and tell me if I look like someone who kidnaps someone! She is my daughter and I have the right to take her wherever I want when I want.”

Adrien laughs cynically at the woman.

"Not. You don't have.” He says. "Do you remember signing a document giving Chloe full custody to the mayor after signing the divorce a few months ago?"

"How-"

“Yeah, we know you are no longer the mayor's wife and you have no right to do what you did. If you left the country with Chloe without André's written permission, it would become a kidnapping.” Kagami cuts her off.

“She's my daughter!” Audrey stomps her foot.

"No, she is not. You gave up that right and now you hit her.” Damian growls. "You're lucky that murder is against the law, because otherwise..." He whispers deadly, but she can hear.

Audrey turns pale at the boy's words. Seeming to notice for the first time that the four teenagers had equal expressions of hate.

She opened her mouth to say something more, but the sound of police car sirens interrupted her and soon Dick was getting out of the car with Roger.

"Good afternoon." The Parisian cop politely greets, Dick nods without saying anything. “We received a complaint of public disorder and aggression against a minor.”

Audrey, knowing she would be in trouble, tries to get out of the situation by playing the victim.

"Officers, please, those brats went crazy and kidnapped my daughter!" There was a fake tear running down her cheek.

"What?!" Damian complains indignantly. "This crazy woman who was trying to kidnap one of us!"

Roger seemed frankly unsure of what to do, while Dick was watching the scene analytically. He was probably choosing the best way to end Audrey Bourgeois in front of everyone.

"What? No! You who kidnapped my Chloe and assaulted me!” She pointed her finger theatrically. “They threatened me, officer! Me! The first lady!”

"Madam, please." Roger takes Audrey by the shoulders and the woman makes an expression of disgust at the gesture. “Let's calm down. This confusion is attracting a much bigger audience than before.”

Only then does Audrey seem to notice that not only did Dupont's students watch (and film), but pedestrians passing by stopped to watch the confusion.

A TVi car getting closer and closer to guarantee the gossip of the day.

"Great! So, everyone learns about the sordid behavior that this school promotes towards students and how it corrupted my daughter!”

“Audrey Bourgeois-“ Marinette takes a step forward, looking at the woman and shaking her head. "Sorry! I meant Audrey Bisset.” She winks conspiratorially with the stylist's offended expression. "Here are your options."

She holds up a finger to signal "1" and begins, a soft voice.

"The first option is for you to leave now, without making another scene and we will not report you to these kind officers here."

The middle finger raises following the index finger. The "2".

"The second is that you continue and we are obliged to report you."

The ring finger raises to "3".

"Or I can just release very intimate files of yours on the internet and in the press, if you insist." Marinette lowers her arm and crosses the two behind her back, in a timid gesture. “Look, I knew you had some skeletons in the closet, but wow! What we found is enough to buy the entire IKEA and there is still no closet to store the bones.”

Roger, despite not appearing to like what Marinette was talking about, was curious about what she knew.

He was never a fan of Audrey Bourgeois for the way the woman treated her husband and daughter. Roger hated it every time Sabrina came home crying because Chloe had been particularly mean to her due to Audrey's influence.

The woman forced herself to be as unpleasant as possible and did not seem to have a drop of love in her heart.

Just greed and status.

“What.” Audrey babbles.

"Evan Halle." Kagami throws the name in the air, relaxed.

Audrey gets two shades paler. "How do you-"

"Laurence Green." Adrien continues.

The woman's skin changes to a greenish tone.

"Alright! I'm leaving!" She screams. "But you have to promise that the press will not know those names!"

"Deal!" Marinette waves happily. A sweet, very sweet smile, on the lips.

Audrey puts the sunglasses back on her face, composing herself. She pretends not to notice the press filming everything live for viewers at home and turns to get into the limo.

"Odette Han." Dick finally speaks and with that Audrey seems ready to run at any moment. “This is part of some of the names listed in the files. You will have to accompany us to the police station.”

He steps in front of her, preventing Audrey from trying to escape. Roger followed his movement and took the stylist by the arm.

“It will be good if you collaborate with us. Otherwise, we will be forced to handcuff you in front of everyone.” He says when Audrey tries to break free.

She looks at Marinette, anger in her expression and her eyes are wet with humiliation.

"You said you wouldn't let anyone know!" She rages at Marinette, losing her composure for the first time.

She struggles in Roger's grip, wanting to move forward on Marinette, but the man has an iron grip on the woman's arm and she stops.

Damian smirks. A dangerous look.

"She said she wouldn't release it in the press or on the internet." He answers. "And I believe that she is fulfilling the agreement, since the police are not part of the press."

Dick takes the opportunity to put the handcuffs on Audrey's wrists. “And she won't be the one to tell the press. It will be me.”

When Audrey starts struggling again trying to break free, Roger drags her into the police car. Leaving Dick with the teenagers.

“Thank you so much for your help, Richard. She wouldn't give up on Chloe if you hadn't arrived.” Marinette sighs a smile.

Dick raises an eyebrow, seeming not at all convinced by the false sincerity in the girl's words. He knew she could be quite manipulative when needed.

"You're welcome." He answers. “We were lucky to have obtained these files before she arrived in Paris. Chloe will be safe now.”

Kagami snorts. "What are you talking about? Chloe was always safe. Audrey only touched her because that was the plan.”

"Yes! And everything came out the way we planned!” Adrien claps the hands, a huge smile on his face.

"The slap was much stronger than imagined, but it gave the effect we wanted." Damian nods sharply. "The anger I felt when I saw the mark was genuine."

Dick's eyes widen in surprise.

"Wait, did you know this was going to happen?"

“Duh. Of course." Marinette replies. “Appearing at school all together and happy. We knew there would be gossip, especially nasty gossip from our class.” She rolls her eyes. "So, we took advantage of that knowing that Lila wouldn't be quiet and we let her get closer to Gabriel."

“But how were you sure he was going to talk to Audrey? I thought they didn't get along.”

"Because Gabriel likes to be in control." Kagami speaks. “He doesn't like to be told. Especially if the people giving the order are children.”

“My father wants to isolate me. If I lose all my friends, he will be able to regain control over me as before.”

"So, Gabriel, thinking that Audrey would take Chloe away from us, warns the woman about an "orgy" involving only daughter she has and she comes running to save her." Damian continues.

“But you didn't need evidence of the crimes she committed to get her away from Chloe. She had no right, so she would be arrested even if you didn't do anything.” Dick crosses his arms. "So why all this staging?"

Marinette smiles, a dark mood shining in the blueberry eyes.

"Because that way we send a message to everyone, especially Gabriel."

"And what message would that be?" Dick questions.

"Never mess with the Pack."

The “otherwise” was left unsaid, but the meaning was clear.

EXTRA 1:

"I didn't know you could be such a good actress, Apis." Kim praises Chloe, eyes glued to the news channel.

The girl snorts. "I am good at everything."

Max jumps on the couch, turning up the sound of the TV when a footage (probably from a cell phone, if judged by the image quality), particularly good of Chloe's marked face, appeared on the screen.

"Fuck." He swears in wonder. "It looks a lot worse on TV."

Luka sits next to the three and places the ice pack gently on Chloe's face, who moans gratefully.

That hurt like hell.

"I didn't think Audrey would be that strong." Luka comments. "Your face will be swollen for a few days, Apis."

"All for the greater good." She sighs.

They would have no more to worry about for a while.

EXTRA 2:

"What the hell was this all about?" Ivan grumbles.

“Why was Chloe's mother arrested? Anybody know?" Rose asks.

Alix swallows a sigh when she sees Nadja Chamack announce that Audrey Bisset has been arrested for promoting slave labor in her clothing line, bribery and blackmail.

"Guys, come see this!" She calls.

They were all gathered on Juleka's boat (thinking that Chloe had gone there with Luka) wanting to know what it was all about in front of the school.

"Damn it. The mayor's wife is hardcore." Nino whistles in surprise.

"It looks like they're not together anymore." Alya says. Eyes glued to the cell phone. “The mayor filed for divorce five months ago and took custody of Chloe. It looked like she wanted to take Chloe to New York without his permission and then the police were called.”

"But how did he know that?" Nathaniel asks. "That she was trying to get Chloe out of Paris?"

"Hm... It says here that 'friends concerned about the physical and emotional integrity of the mayor's daughter, called the police and made the report'." Juleka reads aloud.

"They?" Sabrina asks.

"They." Alya waves.

Lila couldn't help thinking that Marinette's group was unpleasantly scary. They didn't seem to take any effort to break down the obstacles on the way.

She feared for when her time came.

Because she was not stupid.

Her time was coming.

[tag list]

@northernbluetongue​ @gimme-more-caffeine @kris-pines04​ @drarryismylife101​ @puzzlelover431​ @18-fandoms-unite-08​ @krispydefendorpolice​ @asheanomhominem​  @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @cutechip​ @just-an-avarage-nerds-blog​ @lirulua​ @j-a-n-e-d-o-e @naclychilli​ @the-blindwatcher​ @xxmdsxx​ @emootaku-666​ @nicknnie​​ @multplelifes​​ @slytherinhquinn​​ @caffeinetheory​​ @clumsy-owl-4178​​ @k-poplunardreams​​ @moonystars14​​ @damianette-is-life​​ @

[slimyficgirl]

Jambalaya recipe ((Alastor x Reader))

“Oh no. Oh no. Oh god what am I doing..”  What you were doing, exactly was trying to make jambalaya. Specifically, jambalaya from the recipe of a serial killer and cannibal your father had hunted back when you were a child. In fact..you’d actually stolen the recipe from his old case files back at your parents home.  Why?  Because you needed to make it look like a copycat killer had murdered your freshly married husband, a real piece of work who just wouldn’t take NO for an answer. Maybe you were a little to liberal for this day and age, but you didn’t believe a husband should force his wife into sex, and well...you’d had to defend yourself. It wasn’t like you’d MEANT to kill him! It’s just..after the misogynistic chauvinist pig kept harassing you after your-arranged-marriage, you may have gotten a little stab happy.  Now here you were, trying desperately to cover your tracks. You frowned, wiping the tears from your face and then gasping when you realized your hands still had blood on them.  “Now, now, dear! You should smile!”  The voice made you jump and you whirled around, ready to give yourself to whoever was here and would likely turn you into the police. What you saw..wasn’t possible.  Alastor, or the Radio Demon as the reports used to call him, stood in your kitchen with a large grin on his face and a glint of amusement in his eye. A man who’d been dead for near 20 years now. He didn’t look..right, though. His skin was a grey color and his eyes were red, and he had..deer ears? On top of his head? He..he didn’t look human, and was just barely recognizable. You gasped, backing away slightly and he chuckled, twirling a microphone stand in his hand. “Well, well, well! Now THIS is entertainment!” Somehow..it sounded like his voice was coming out of a radio. You watched as he walked over to the kitchen counter, where your late husband’s bloody limbs were set out.  “Hmm..I must say dear, you did a stupendous job with the knife work! I must ask, who taught you how to cut up so well?” He lifted one of the severed hands, grinning even wider than before, “And who is this unlucky fellow?” “...m-my husband...” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You kept your eyes down, trying so hard to wipe the blood off your hands onto a hand towel, but there was just so much of it. “I-I didn’t mean to k-kill him! He just..kept trying to...f-force himself on me..”  Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the man’s large grin slacken slightly. He dropped the hand back into the bowel. “I see...well then, I would advice against eating it. Such bad meat could upset the stomach of a delicate dear like yourself..who are you, by the by? I doubt my mother’s recipe was easy to get a hold of~” “...M-My father is..was..Officer O’Malley...he..headed your case..” Alastor’s eyes lit up at the name. “Good old O’Malley? Well now, that must make you little (Y/N)! I saw him take you out for walks often back in the days when I was keeping an eye on the good officer. Look at you...~”  You grew stiff as the man..or demon, as you’d decided, began circling you. As if you were prey... “You’ve grown up to be such a beautiful young lady...I couldn’t possibly let you do this on your own!” He stopped suddenly and his grin was large again as he stood in front of you, tapping a finger to his chin. It looked like he’d come up with a positively delicious..entertaining idea. “....I will handle this, and drop it off to your father directly so he believes he’s been sent a message by a copy cat. Not a soul will suspect you, my dear. In return, after living a happy life of your choosing, once you die....your soul will belong to me.” He held a hand out to you, “Do we have a deal~?” You stared at his hand with wide eyes, his words swimming through your head.  You didn’t have much of a choice, did you? 

You placed your bloody, shaking hand in his, and gasped softly as he gently brought it to his lips, pressing them again your knuckles. There was a flash of green light and you could have sworn you heard soft laughter around you. Alastor then released your and and grinned, reaching out to wipe some blood from your face. “Wonderful! Now smile, darling, smile! You’re never fully dressed without one!” He stepped around you, grabbing the knife off the counter and the ingredients you’d gathered. “Go clean up in a nice, long shower. While I think you look positively angelic covered in blood, you don’t need anything from this disgusting beast on you.”

Without a word, you walked up the stairs to your bedroom to wash yourself, unaware that you’d just agreed to become the wife of the Radio Demon.

[imagine-loki]

The Tragedy of Thor of Asgard

TITLE: The Tragedy of Thor of Asgard CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One shot AUTHOR: colifower ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki attending a play about his little adventure in Svartalfheim. It is too poorly written that he decides to take the matter into his own hands… The tragedy of Loki is born. RATING: G NOTES/WARNINGS: It’s an option on my Choose your own adventure fic, which was too confusing to be posted in IL. Link to the full story here!

“I’m in desperate need to take a day off. I’ll do it today; not much is happening anyways” shouted Loki-as-Odin. He had been suplanting his not-father for a while now and was only starting to learn the extents of Odin’s routine, which mainly consisted in doing nothing and claiming his counselor’s ideas as his own, so in order to fix it Loki had to take a few extra hours. He summoned their not-father’s horse as soon as he could and pet it’s side. He desperately wanted to ride with his own horse, Apricot, but still had to deal with the appearences.

They trotted out of the stables and into the sunshine. It was truly a good day to go for a horse walk. “Yes, that’s what I’m going to do! We’re going to the blue fountain! It’ll be very nice today, maybe even have a bath…”

Loki stopped his train of thought when he saw a yellow banner ad. “The tragedy of Thor of Asgard. Find out the details of The Midgardian’s murder of Queen Frigga, the betrayal of Prince Loki The Jötun and much more…” they read out loud. “Well, you got me interested. Let’s see the depths of asgardian propaganda.”

*

“This is going to be so painfully inaccurate” he muttered to himself while getting sited. He had parked Sleipnir a bit far away from the place not to bring much attention to himself. The piece was performed at a corral de comedias *, quite a musty place for a king. Loki foolishly hoped nobody paid much attention to the attending Allfather, but as soon as the space started to get filled, he noted the looks of the gossipy aesir piercing through his skin. He couldn’t do much about it now, so he remained seated and quiet, trying to remain unnoticeable.

The crowd got quiet as the actors came to the stage.

ACT 1 Scene I

Enter CHOIR.

CHOIR

Oh Norns be gentle with us. Our fates are sealed and our lives have no meaning. But what do we hear from the palace above? It must be Prince Thor and his latest human conquest. Look at her rags and horrid features: must be an evil witch, no human could have captured the Prince’s attentions otherwise.

“Wrong in so many levels” Loki murmured. Several of the attendees shushed at him. He got quite surprise with their support for the play, but said no more. It was going to be a long two hours.

Enter THE HAG, FRIGGA, THOR wiggling Mjolnir quite violently

THOR

I do not understand, mother. Why couldn’t we just kill Loki? One jötun less, one problem less.

FRIGGA

Can’t you see, my son? Even if we take his life, we will get nothing in return. He is an evil man and we already lost him along the way. We cannot do a single thing to save those poor midgardian’s lives. It’s best to leave things be. That’s what your father wants us to do.

THOR

But we must avenge the fallen. He murdered those 72 innocent guards. He’s just like Malekith The Dark, who burned Svartalfheim’s whole population alive.

FRIGGA

The sorrow will kill me. My own son betraying us like this.

Leaves crying

ACT I scene II

THOR

I still think we should do something about it. What do you think, my beloved?

THE HAG

Oh my muscular, muscular man. You are so right, we cannot stand here and do nothing while the monster is still alive. It is a risk for our people.

THOR

Our people? Does that mean you will marry me?

THE HAG

If you desire so.

THOR

Well, I…

A cloud of green smoke appears and surrounds THOR while THE HAG shakes her arms around. She is enchanting him to do as she pleases.

I do! I will marry you!

THE HAG

I am the happiest woman alive.

They embrace.

ACT 2 Scene I

Enter FRIGGA with a flower vase. THOR and THE HAG are still embracing each other.

FRIGGA

Oh sweet Valhalla!

She drops the flower vase.

Thor, my son. What are you doing?

THOR

Embracing my beloved, mother. We are to get wed this afternoon.

THE HAG [Aside]

Yes! My evil plan is coming to fruition. Soon after the wedding I’d just have to kill old king Odin to become the most powerful being in the universe.

FRIGGA

What did you say, my dear?

THE HAG

Oh, nothing. I am very excited by the event.

CHOIR

Oh, your majesty, our beloved royals, look outside the window. The forces of evil are slaughtering us! We need the help of our hero prince Thor to save our lives from the poisonous knives of the dark elves.

THE HAG

Is that true?

FRIGGA

Oh dear!

THOR

I’ll butcher the monsters that hunt our people. Wait for me, mother, wait for me, my beloved. I’ll be back in a heartbeat.

Exits

ACT 2 scene II

THE HAG

Well… now that we are alone…

Stabs FRIGGA

FRIGGA

Oh cruel Norns. To die at the hands of an evil creature like you. Ladies like me aren’t suitable to hold a knife, I didn’t stand a chance.

THE HAG

Ha! Only midgardian woman are enough deprived to learn the ways of war.

FRIGGA

Curse you sudden but inevitable betrayal!

Dies

THE HAG

One step closer to victory.

ACT 3 scene I

CHOIR

The dark elves’ threat is gone! Hooray the soon-to-be king! But inside the palace there are still some scoundrels left to slaughter. Prince Thor will surely get here in a minute

Enter DARK ELVES SOLDIERS and LOKI. His green cape is twice as long as his own height.

THE HAG

Who are you?

DARK ELF SOLDIER 1

Your new king! Bow to him.

THE HAG

I think not!

She moves her arms around and a green cloud of smoke surrounds the stage.

By the power of Girlb-oss you shall be defeated.

DARK ELF SOLDIER 1

Oh no!

DARK ELF SOLDIER 2

We are dead.

The soldiers die. LOKI starts circling THE HAG, ready to attack.

THE HAG

Damn! My seidr never fails me.

LOKI

The girlb-oss invocation doesn’t work on me, since I am both a seidr user and a weak man.

THE HAG

How is that even possible?

LOKI

I am evil.

THE HAG

Yeah, that makes sense.

LOKI

Anyways, time for you to die.

Stabs her

THE HAG

Curse you! You disgusting and treacherous creature. You will perish soon and painfully.

LOKI

If you say so.

She dies

ACT 3 scene II

Enter THOR

THOR

What is this? Mother is dead? My beloved too? Who has done this?

LOKI

Not me.

THOR

You ungrateful bastard. No jötun should be trusted

THOR and LOKI fight dramatically. THOR is the superior fighter. LOKI lays on the ground without much movement.

LOKI

I am defeated. I die now.

LOKI dies for no reason whatsoever. THOR doesn’t even threaten him with a weapon.

THOR

No! My brother no!

Enter ODIN

ODIN

We shall mourn the dead. My son Loki the treacherous should be buried like the rest, with honour. Even if he was born a monster, he was still my son. I’ll carry my queen to the boats, where they all shall reach Valhalla.

THE END

“What a bunch of nonsense” Loki-as-Odin muttered to himself yet again. “My muscular, muscular man. What does that even mean? And the xenophobia was off the charts (although it’s nothing new anyways), Dr Foster didn’t even have a name! Argh! So frustrating. Somebody needs to sort that mess before it has the chance to become a problem.”

An idea crossed his mind.

“Maybe I should tell the real Tragedy of Loki of Asgard.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Secrets ~ 4

Warnings: noncon sexual acts later in series; spanking

This is dark!Bucky and dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A buried family secret comes to light thrusting you to the forefront of an old alliance.

Note: Okey dokey, in for a long day but enjoy this while I’m away.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

After hours of Barnes’ relentless criticism and the ridiculous strutting, you were allowed a break. The stress, the jet lag, the anger. It all mounted and left you exhausted. You were shown to your room; grand despite your own treatment. It certainly fit the title of Duchess but had you wondering why your bearing didn’t allot you an ounce of authority. By his own logic, you should be ordering Barnes around.

You collapsed into the plush bed. You didn’t have the energy to admire the canopy, or the fancy furniture, or sheer luxury of the room alone. You fell into a heavy sleep but it did not relieve the turmoil of your mind. Your dreams swirled with Barnes’ unyielding voice, your mother’s home, the roaring plane, the looming portraits of queens glaring down at you. There was no escape.

You woke with a start, the heavy, feather duvet torn from around you. You sat up and let out a pathetic squeak as your vision was still blurry from your heavy sleep. You shook your head and drew your legs up as you stared at the man who let the blanket slump across the bottom of your bed. He tilted his head as he looked back at you, as disapproving as always.

“Time to get up,” Barnes announced.

You hugged your legs and huffed. “Holy shit, dude. You could’ve just set an alarm.”

“Hmpf,” He hung his head as his hands went to his hips and he pursed his lips. 

He stood straight, determined, and marched around the bed to you. He grabbed your arm and tugged you to the edge of the bed, your legs slipped down as you were turned to look at him. He framed your chin with his hand and forced you to look up at him.

“First, that language. If I hear another word today and I will fulfill yesterday’s promise.” He warned. “Second, we do not address anyone as ‘dude’. It’s not proper. Third, this is what you wear to bed?”

You felt along the loose grey tee blindly, the front half tucked into your granny panties, and blanched. You shrugged to cover your discomfort.

“What is proper? Walking like I have a stick up my ass and preening over pompous jerks like some desperate debutante.”

“Again, Duchess, you tempt me to wash out that filthy mouth,” He squeezed and drew you up to your feet. “I will allow that you are tired; still waking up. I will have patience for…” He raised his other arm and checked his watch. “The next twenty minutes as you ready. After, the rules stand. No swearing, no slouching…” He released you and stepped back. “And smile, your highness. You’re much more endearing then.”

He smirked and gave a bow. Almost sarcastic. You weren’t entirely sure how a bow could be sarcastic but he’d figured it out. You narrowed your eyes at him as he left and when the door closed, you sat on the bed heavily and swore under your breath. Better to get it out now and not tempt the drill sergeant hounding your every move.

👑

Barnes awaited you. You wouldn’t say eagerly, more impatiently. He guided you along the polished, shining hallways of the palace. You could feel his side eye, the silent measure of your step. You tried to walk as he had bid you. Tried to stand as straight as you could, feet close together, head high. You felt stupid.

He stopped before a pair of double doors and turned back to you.

“This is the queen’s toilette. Queen Alaine furnished the room back in 1742 and since it has been left mostly the same aside from a few necessary updates.” He explained. “It is where the prospective brides are to refine themselves before their weddings. Remember, duchess, you’re foremost concern is pleasing the king.”

“Is it?” You asked dryly.

He took a sharp breath and his brows drew together. He blinked slowly and reached to the handle of the right door.

“You should be concerned,” He said as he turned to open the door. “If you make him unhappy, there is nothing I can do beyond your wedding day to help.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Helping me?” You asked.

“Whether you realise it or not.” He replied and held the door for you.

You entered and were met by a round room of mirrors. Every angle of you was reflected back at you and you turned, each glance at the glass gifting a new insecurity. Barnes entered behind you and pulled shut the door, another mirror on its rear. He came up behind you and hooked his arm around you, drawing you to the centre of the room.

“I have made appointments for stylists to come and deal with…” He waved a hand towards your face. “All of this. For now, we will outfit your royal wardrobe. Fortunately, several designers have sent over racks as a favour to the throne.” You didn’t miss his eyes as they focused on your reflection. “So…’ He turned you and led you to one of the mirrors, he reached to press on it and it clicked outward. He drew it open and nudged your forward. “Go on and start.”

“What?” You stopped in the doorway to the attached room hidden behind the mirror. Racks of clothing hung in varying shades from pastel to jewel to the darkest hues hung from the hangers. 

“We must go through each item to make certain they are suitable and set aside any that require proper fitting,” He advise. “I will await your first selection in the next room,” He gestured behind him. “So that we can get a good look at it.”

You frowned. The idea of wearing clothing you didn’t choose in front of a dozen mirrors and a man you could hardly stand was assuredly a living hell. He grinned and closed the door behind him as he disappeared through it. You stomped your foot. He treated you so much like a child, you were starting to act like one. Or maybe he was giving you a complex.

You went to the first rack. A powder blue dress with long sleeves was the first. It was very Jackie O. You took the hanger and sat on the cushioned bench. You didn’t change right away. You felt as if it was another strip of your independence being ripped away from you. Well, given the situation, how much did you really have left?

You stood and laid the dress out as you undressed. You pulled on the dress and found it fit quite snugly. It wasn’t as matronly as it looked on the hanger. The back was an open vee with a thin strap across the top, while the front allowed a sense of modesty while hugging your figure. You hated it already.

You hesitated as you neared the door. You took a moment to let out a stream of curses under your breath and made yourself open it. You stepped through, Barnes sat on a stool and looked up at you, his eyes discerning as they took in every inch of you. He reached to trace the line of his jaw as he thought. He glanced at the mirrors and dropped his hand.

“The cut is great, the colour, not so much,” He remarked. “Red would be nice. If we were to go with blue, it would have to be darker. Something akin to the king’s colours.”

You crossed your arms. “Is that a no? Because I don’t like it.”

He chuckled. “I’m not concerned if you like it, duchess, my worry is the king’s satisfaction. If I cannot get you to behave as a lady, you must at least look like one.”

You pouted and dropped your arms. Fuck the king, you thought. You wanted to say it so badly. He seemed amused by your internal struggle as he laughed again.

“Put it on the empty rack with the pink tag and try the next,” He shifted on the stool. “We don’t have all day.”

You stomped back through to the room and threw the door closed. You shed the dress and hung it as he told you. You took the next, a canary yellow you were very wary off. Shorter sleeves, flouncy skirt. It would be cute if it wasn’t so cockatiel.

You changed and re-entered the cell of mirrors. Barnes tilted his head one way then the other. He smiled.

“I like it. Turn.” He spun his finger and you stayed as you were. “Go on, duchess, show off.”

You glared at him.

He stood and neared you. His expression turned stern as he came close and grasped your shoulders. He turned you and you faced your reflection all around you. His eyes roved down the back of the dress before he drew close and was nearly flush against you as he gazed at the mirror ahead of you.

“This is much more you, wouldn’t you agree? Younger, carefree?” His hands ran down your arms. “And I think the king would like something a bit more… innocent.”

You blinked in disgust and wriggled away from him.

“He looking for some pure maiden?” You spun to face him. “I’m afraid there’s not many of those anymore.”

“Our king isn’t stupid,” Barnes countered. “He is aware of feminine wiles but you will not mention any of your past… indiscretions to him. It would be an insult to your union.”

“And what about his?” You challenged. “I’m not stupid either. I’ve seen the articles, the photos.”

“A prince is allowed his mistakes,” Barnes said. “There are kings who’ve done worse. I am certain that you could name a few yourself given your extensive knowledge on the matter.”

“So a queen must be an abstinent cyborg?” You hissed.

“A queen must be what he king wants her to be,” Barnes came closer. “We’ve yet to see what he wants of you but we’ll do our best to guess,” He leaned in so that you felt his breath. “That dress goes on the rack with the white tag.”

He backed away and returned to his perch on the bench. He sat and stared at you, he fluttered his fingers impatiently.

“Well, go on,” He bid. “Or did you require help?”

You sneered and turned on your heel. You swept back into the side room and slammed the door. You wriggled free of the yellow mess and hung it. You went to the racks and grimaced at the array of tulle, silk, and satin. You took the next, a mint dress with sharp shoulders. The colour didn’t exactly match the silhouette.

You sat and held the dress in your lap. You felt the fabric between your fingers and sighed. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life like some doll to be dressed and played with. You didn’t want to wear these stupid overpriced dresses and you didn’t want to marry a stranger who to this point had a penchant for frat boy antics. You doubted that age had changed him that much.

You were shaken from your resentful and self-pitying trance by a knock at the door. You sat up as Barnes voice sounded from the other side. “I’m waiting.”

“Fuck off.” You snarled back as you tossed aside the dress and stood.

You grabbed your jeans from the other end of the bench and began to pull them on. The door opened before you had them past your knees and you were bowled over by a sudden force. Barnes shoved you so that you tripped, tangled in the denim, and caught yourself on the bench.

Before you could stand, his hand was on the small of your back. He held you down. His strength was frightening as he easily pinned you against the bench. You were stuck, prone in only your bra and panties as your jeans bunched at your ankles. You pushed on the edge of the seat and tried to force yourself up but couldn’t get the leverage.

“I told you about that language.” His other hand struck your ass and you cried out in surprise and rage.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You struggled against his grasp.

“What needs to be done.” He growled as he spanked you again. “You insist on being a brat so let me treat you like one.”

“Stop!” You hollered. “What the--”

He slapped your ass again and it stung so much you whimpered. You kicked you, your feet still trapped in your jeans and you reached to the floor.

“Ah! Get off! Get off!” You shouted.

“Watch,” Smack. “Your,” Smack, “Mouth.” Smack.

“I am telling you,” You grunted as you wriggled helplessly. “As your duchess-- to let me go!”

You expected another smack but it never came. His hand left your back and he stood straight. Your nerves fizzled as you slowly pushed yourself up and turned to sit on the bench. Your ass still buzzed from the unceremonious spanking. You folded your arms over your chest as you tried to cover yourself. He had no shame as he looked you up and down.

“That’s what you need, your highness,” He purred. “You need to start acting like a duchess.”

“Get out,” You snarled. “Now.”

His lips curved and his eyes drifted from your face. You squirmed and reached to the dress you’d left on the other end of the bench and pulled it over to cover yourself. You stood and clumsily stepped out of your jeans. You neared him as your humiliation boiled to anger.

“I said get out,” You hissed. “I am a duchess and I’ve given you an order.” You poked his chest, he didn’t flinch. “And I doubt your king would appreciate you leering at his future queen.”

He snickered, quietly. He raised his hands and turned his palms out defensively. He backed away from you and paused at the door. He bowed his head. 

“Your highness,” He said. “Let us not repeat this. You can skip that one,” He nodded to the dress. “The rack with the red tag.”

He turned and strode through the door, a subtle click in his stead as you were left to stand hugging the horrible mint green monstrosity. You closed your eyes and waited for your heart to slow from its frantic beating.

You lowered the dress from your front and reached to touch your tender ass. The brush of your fingertips sent a shiver through you. How loyal was Barnes truly? To the king? To himself? You weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

[hybridfanfiction]

Owner Training - 8

- YOONGI POV -

He knows exactly how long he’d lived on the streets. Seven hundred and fifteen days. Almost two years. Not long compared to many of the other hybrids that had roamed the area, but long enough for him. It had been cold and miserable, and he’d always had to fight for a spot under the park bridge when it rained. He’d been hungry and constantly sick, but it was still better than it had been living in any of his other previous homes.

He’d been smart when he left the last one, taking along his keyboard that a social worker had given him. Playing on that had allowed him to make enough money to keep himself fed, thanks to the guy that ran the convenience store and didn’t mind hybrids buying things for themselves. There was also the little old lady that ran a hostel nearby that let him pay for a shower and a nap, slipping him soup and sandwiches sometimes.

And then there’d been her.

The first couple of times he saw her hadn’t been some sort of love at first sight story. She’d simply been another face in the crowd that would stop by when he played, clapping and throwing some change in his bucket. It wasn’t until she’d asked if he could play Il Lamento by Liszt that he’d bothered to take a good look at her. Then once he’d looked, he couldn’t stop. Suddenly he noticed how pretty she was, how she always smelled sweet and clean with a hint of the same lemon and ginger tea every single day. How she never talked down to him. 

Before long, he’d begun to look forward to her visits. Sometimes she’d bring him breakfast and chat for a while ( meaning he’d let her ramble on while he set up his spot for the day) before she left for work. Sometimes she’d stop by after a hard day at work and simply sit on a bench with her eyes closed, listening to him play. He always made sure to play something soothing on those days. 

Occasionally she’d throw him way too much money which made him feel really awkward, so he’d offer to do something more to earn it. Usually, she just had him carry groceries or something else equally small just to humor him. 

It was every time that she was too busy to show up that he realized he was growing alarmingly attached to this human. That was not a clever thing to do, and he’d always prided himself on being a smart and realistic guy. Humans weren’t to be trusted. They would pretend to be loving and caring, then the moment no one was watching they’d turn their hybrids into slaves and sex toys. 

But then there was her, Ginger. That wasn’t her real name, of course, just what he’d taken to calling her in his head. She always smelled like the lemon and ginger tea she obviously drank often. He got so used to smelling it as soon as she arrived that he’d begun to equate that scent with...comfort? Home? He didn’t know. It’s not like she was his owner or anything, but his hind-brain was certainly attached to her. 

The point was that he trusted this woman for some reason that he couldn’t quite figure out. She seemed genuine and caring, but so had others in his past. She seemed a little ditsy sometimes, but that wasn’t a bad thing exactly. It was kinda cute, to be honest. 

So yeah, there were a few times he’d daydreamed about what life would be like if someone like her was his owner. Sure, he’d like to be able to not have to have an owner at all, but that wasn’t the reality of his life. Somehow, however, he thought if it was Ginger maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She was nice, really pretty, and seemed to like him just as much. 

So maybe when the most horrible storm of the year had happened and he’d been shit out of luck getting a spot under the bridge, he decided to take a shot. Worst case scenario, she called Hybrid Control. Best, she’d let him stay for the night. So he’d run towards the familiar apartment building only to find that she was still at work. All the lights were off and the door was locked. He could have slept on the porch, and he’d had every intention of doing so until he’d seen the wide-open window. 

He’d sighed in exasperation at her forgetfulness. Really, anyone could just jump inside the first-floor apartment and steal her shit. He’d been racked by shivers, the cold rain firming his resolve. Better to ask for forgiveness than die of pneumonia. 

He’d climbed into the bedroom window, cringing at the muddy prints he made on the floor. He’d clean it up before she got home. He sniffed, nearly moaning in happiness. It smelled so great in her apartment. He could smell her everywhere. There were occasional scents here and there that weren’t hers, but they were so faint that they obviously belonged to visitors. 

He’d been terrified, honestly, but he’d been so desperate and lonely and just emotionally drained that he’d decided fuck it. If she freaked out and kicked him out on his ass, well, better to get it over with now before he got even more attached. 

So he’d turned on the heat, showered, and grabbed some sweat pants from her dresser. At first, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep in her bed. He’d planned on just sitting there and waiting for his doom, but then the heat was so nice and the covers looked so soft and smelled so much like her that he figured just for a minute. He’d just try it out for a minute because it had been so long since he’d slept in such a nice bed. 

When she’d woken him up after she came home, he’d been terrified. Of course, he’d long mastered the art of seeming nonchalant even while his heart was pounding so hard he was afraid it would burst. So he’d bluffed his way through, hoping that she was really as much of a bleeding heart as she’d always seemed. 

Thank fuck she was, because she simply allowed him to stay with minimal fuss. In fact, he’d even gotten her to go along with him living there instead of just for the night. Of course, she’d obviously been too confused by what was happening to protest anything, but once again her ditziness was part of her charm. 

That first night in her bed would live in his memory forever. It wasn’t like much had happened, but it was something to him. He’d felt...safe. Probably the last time he’d genuinely felt that way had been when he was a kitten and didn’t know any better. But laying next to her wrapped in warmth and her scent, their legs tangled together and his tail pulling her close...he’d been safe. 

The days that had followed were like a dream. Every time he thought it was time for her to show her true colors, she’d surprise him instead by showing that her heart was bigger than her brain. Despite the way he forced himself into her life, she made every attempt to make him feel like he belonged there. She took him shopping, tried to cook for him despite being horrible at it, bought him a cell phone so that she could text him while she was at work. She went out of her way to find his favorite foods and shows and anything else she could spoil him with. She took care of him when he was sick and always let him sleep in the bed with her. 

After a while, he began to forget that there was a time before her. There were still times where he’d call himself a fool for trusting a human, but she just had to smile at him like he was her whole world for him to think that she was the exception. She was the real deal and he wanted to be good enough for her. 

When he realized that his feelings were veering into the forbidden territory of maybe actually loving this dumb human, he’d been terrified once again. Would it be better to keep it to himself and learn to live with it when she eventually got into a relationship someday, or tell her and risk losing her completely? Because, while she’d never treated him like a pet he was still a hybrid. Hybrid and human relationships were still viewed as “kinky,” something he didn’t think she was...well, not without a bit of training in the future anyway. 

Learning that her own brother was in an actual committed relationship with his hybrid had been an eyeopener. She’d never expressed a single bit of disgust or disdain towards the relationship at all. They simply were a regular couple in her mind. Despite the small bump with the way she introduced him to people, he thought maybe that meant she would be okay starting something with him. Honestly, he sometimes got the feeling that she did have feelings for him already and just didn’t realize what that meant yet. He’d learned that Ginger needed to have things pointed out to her plainly in order to understand, so maybe even this was that sort of situation. 

So, when his heat suddenly snuck up on him after years of being completely irregular, he’d figured what could be plainer than waving your dick around? 

Truthfully, he’d been a little worried that she’d freak out, but at the same time when you’re overcome with loving someone and extreme horniness you don’t make the best decisions. Thankfully, what had followed had been the best sex of his life. And even more amazing, she’d admitted that she loved him back. Him! She actually loved him even though he was a grumpy asshole most of the time and he knew it. But luckily for her, she always brought out his softer side and he’d do anything for her. 

He wanted to stay with her forever. To love her, mate her, see her belly swell with their children. To wipe her tears when she’s sad or comfort her when she’s worried. He wants to be there when she’s old and grey to remind her every day that she’s still beautiful. 

He still had a long way to go to be worthy of her, but he’d spend his whole life trying. 

****

It's a little short, I apologize. I've been working like crazy, but I am working on many more chapters for this as well as my other stuff. Lots of things in store for these kids. I just felt like we needed a peek into Yoongi's brain real quick.

[mavda]

Beast Tamers

Summary: Mythical beasts roamed the world, all-powerful and terrifying, and the beast tamers sealed them withing themselves. Revered, feared or hated, a beast tamer will never have a normal life, and now Naruto Uzumaki is facing the start of his adult life: choosing a wife.

By his father's beseeching, Naruto is now seeking a wife from the Hyuuga clan, in hopes of extending his life somehow. Nobody expects him to be a real husband, to be a real father, but if Naruto is forced to start a family he will be damned if he disappoints.

Ch.1: A bride for the beast tamer

His father is looking at him with disapproval, he knows. He tries his best to ignore him by looking out the window and entertaining himself with the passing prairies, but Minato Uzumaki will drill a hole through his skull at this rate.      "What," he barks.      Minato breathes with exasperation, "Would it kill you to behave appropriately, son?" 

     Naruto blows a raspberry and keeps looking out the window with his slouched back, open legs and annoyed face. "I don't know, you tell me."      "We're meeting your future wife, please try to at least look interested."      "Bride," Naruto corrects, "future bride, and what's it they say? If you don't love me at my worst, you don't de-?"      "Naruto!" Minato hisses, and Naruto knows he has overstepped. His father his hurt. He knows. He knew he would hurt him if he treated this meeting with such nonchalance, and he did it anyways.      "Is wanting for you to live a couple more years such a horrible wish of mine?"      Naruto bites his tongue, because he doesn't have the heart to tell his father that sometimes he wishes...      "I will behave," Naruto concedes, "I will try my best to behave," he adds, because he knows himself. But he doesn't straighten his back, doesn't close his legs and doesn't wash the grimace off his face.      "Thank you, son. Thank you."      And Naruto pouts towards the window.

⁂

His stupid formal kimono is stuffy and the coat cord dangles in front of him. He has to fight the urges to grip it and rip it off.      Their carriage leaves and a bunch of servants guide them towards the inner rooms of the house. Hiashi Hyuuga, head of the family, welcomes them alone and offers drinks to the both of them. Naruto became head of the family 5 years ago, the moment he became 18, so although he doesn't particularly enjoy drinking, he can't refuse the man's offering. They talk about unremarkable stuff, most having to do with their respective clans. Hiashi offers another drink and Naruto accepts out of politeness, it is common knowledge that a Beast Tamer should always keep their minds clear and alert. Naruto decides to give the man the benefit of the doubt, mainly because Minato has barely said a word and Naruto promised to behave. But then Hiashi offers another drink and Naruto crosses his arms.      "I am afraid I will have to refuse, Lord Hiashi, I can not afford to get lost on the drink before meeting my future bride."      Hiashi looks as bored as he had when they arrived, but he nods and calls for a servant to bring his daughters. They lock eyes afterwards and Naruto remains stoic. The man is getting on his nerves.      When the door opens again, Naruto doesn't break eye contact until Hiashi does, and by that time the two daughters are already kneeling beside their father, one to each side of him. Their faces are glued to their hands on the floor and they do not move until their father says they are able to do so.      Naruto hides his disgust by pressing his lips together. Patriarcal clans are always weird as fuck. If his mother had been alive he would have married a woman from another matriarchal clan, like the Inuzuka's or the Hatake's. Although if his mother had been alive she may have had a daughter and the Beast inside Naruto wouldn't be inside Naruto and maybe he wouldn't be looking for a bride to have an heir with. Specially not one from a patriarcal clan.      Naruto hones in on the older-looking one. She looks as bored as her father, although Naruto is sure his own face isn't much different. She is pretty, dainty and delicate. Nothing of the things he looks for in a woman. His offspring need to be able to hold in a Beast inside of them, for crying out loud, he would much rather have a mean looking woman like Kiba Inuzuka's mother. Naruto remembers his friend's disgusted face when he had joked to him about it, and his mood is immediately better. He's just taking it out on the daughter because her father is such a stuck-up shit. Naruto's mother had been dainty and delicate, and his grandma Mito is graceful and solemn. Also, he's choosing his bride in order to lengthen his own lifespan, so whatever.      Naruto turns slightly towards his right, puts his hands in front of him and presses his head to the triangle they formed, bowing towards the girl. He straightens, "Lady Hinata, I presume?" he says to the older-looking daughter, she gives the tiniest of nods. "It is my honor to be able to-"      "Lord Naruto," Hiashi interrupts, and Naruto clenches his jaw. What a man.      "Yes, Lord Hiashi?"      "I would like to present to you my daughter Hanabi."      The girl bows again and looks at Naruto directly into his eyes, "It is my honor to meet you, Lord Naruto."      Naruto is confused. He glances towards Hinata, but her eyes are glued to the tatami in front of her.      "I have been informed by your father that through this union you seek a partner that can help you maintain your chakra points clean and unburdened." Naruto nods, but he is still confused. "My daughter Hanabi is by far superior in terms of proficiency in the clan's techniques and as such, I believe, a better partner for you, my lord."      Hinata hasn't said a peep, and Naruto can feel his very own chakras getting unruly inside of him. This must be a joke.      "I do not understand," starts Naruto, "Is Hinata incapable of seeing chakra points?"      Hiashi looks flustered, as flustered as he can look without losing his stoic face. "In terms of capability-"      "Lady Hinata, are you incapable of using your clan's technique? Are you unable to see chakra points?"      Hinata's eyes widen and stare back at Naruto's. "I can, my lord."      "Are you incapable of releasing chakra points?"      "I am capable of that, my lord."      Her voice is reserved, like everything seems to suggest about her, but her eyes now have energy in them, and she can't hide the surprise behind them.      "So could you explain to me then, Lord Hiashi, why are you offering your fourteen year old daughter instead of Lady Hinata?"      "Naruto," Minato hisses from behind him. But Naruto is repulsed by this man's actions, so he awaits an answer.      "As I have stated already, Lord Naruto, in terms of capability my daughter Hanabi is superior than Lady Hinata. I am sorry if me trying to be of use to you has resulted in me overstepping your boundaries."      Minato raises, "Excuse me, Lord Hiashi, my ladies, I would like to have a private conversation with my son."      Naruto doesn't move from his position and Minato calls him, "My lord." It's the change in tone that makes Naruto move. To anyone else, Minato looks just like a servant calling for his master, but Naruto knows his father is as disgusted as he is, there is irritation in his voice.      "If you would excuse me."      They walk towards a nearby pond. Everything is carefully positioned in this garden and Naruto tries to clear his head by admiring the place. Minato stops in the middle of a small bridge, just on top of a miniature waterfall.      "What was that?" he asks, and Naruto is glad Minato chose a place that can somewhat drown their voices, because he's as shocked as his father.      "I know, right? What is he thinking offering his youngest daughter to me? I've always known patriarcal clans were weird, but fuck-"      "Naruto." Minato stops him, and his irritation is evident now.      Naruto takes a moment to understand. "What?" but he refuses to think that his father is annoyed at him and not the man inside that room.      "What are you doing going against Lord Hiashi?"      Naruto has to remember to close his mouth. He feels somewhat betrayed, but he's more shocked than anything. "What do you mean? Hinata was the one we came here to see, didn't we?"      "If Lord Hiashi says that Lady Hanabi might be a better choice, then why can't you just-"      "You expect me to impregnate a 14 year old?" Naruto gets really close to his father. Minato is plenty tall, and usually towers the people around him, but Naruto has grown even taller than him, and he looks like someone that fights for fun, so now it seems like Naruto is threatening the blonde man into submission.      "You do not have to have a child so soon," explains Minato. He reigns over his voice and attitude, nothing good will come out of having Naruto riled up.      "Right, I have how many years left now? 8? 12?" Minato closes his eyes in pain, because this is exactly the reason why they need a Hyuuga in their family, for them to give Naruto a couple more years. "So I wait till she's of age, make her pregnant and then die a few years later, leaving her alone and with a child she will not know how to care for."      "Our clan would never leave your child-"      "If I am forced to have a family, then I want to at least be there for them!"      Minato can't look Naruto in the eye. As Head of the family his expectations are far greater than Minato could ever understand, and if he wishes to be present... Minato understands. "Just control your temper, all right? We don't want Lord Hiashi withdrawing from this deal."

⁂

Hiashi and his daughters seem to have remained still since the moment they left the room. Naruto can't find a hair out of place and he can feel his annoyance growing again, but his father's words are at the back of his head.      Naruto kneels in his spot and bows. "We appreciate your opinions in the matter, Lord Hiashi, and we appreciate your worry over the matter." Hiashi looks pleased, and Naruto has to remember to breath in and out, "I would like to have a one on one meeting with Lady Hinata, if you would let me."      Hiashi's microscopic smile disappears. "As you wish, my lord."      Minato leaves with everyone. He had told Naruto not to piss off Lord Hiashi, but at the end of the day, the decision regarding his bride and future wife must be his.      Hinata remains as still as a statue. She had expected Lord Naruto to choose her sister, but now he is looking at her and Hinata doesn't know what to do.      "Lady Hinata," Naruto starts, and Hinata breathes out the tiniest yes he has ever heard. "May I ask you to look at my chakra points and release the ones you feel are the most strained, please?"      "Yes, my lord."      By the way she had been conducting herself, Naruto would have thought she would have more trouble with his request. He half expected her to fumble while doing her work and actually to suck a little bit at it. But Hinata moves closer to him, keeping herself at arms length now and raises her hand to the front of her face with only her index and middle finger up, a usual hand gesture when using one's chakra. She mumbles a word beneath her breath that Naruto doesn't catch and the veins around her white eyes -characteristic to the Hyuuga- bulge out. Naruto can't look away from her eyes and he isn't sure she catches him staring.      Hinata moves her eyes across his body and after a while she releases her technique. She doesn't look winded or tired, Naruto notices. "May I help you with your haori, Lord Naruto?"      "Sure." Naruto notices his choice of words immediately, but Hinata pays no attention to it. She stands up and helps him take off his jacket, he feels refreshed instantly.      "From what I have seen, Lord Naruto, the most restrained chakra points right now are in you upper back, chest and right thigh." Naruto nods along, because he has no way to confirm that information. "I need to put my hands in said parts of your body, may I?"      "You may, Lady Hinata."      The woman kneels behind him and presses her hands on his back. Naruto straightens even more, she whispers behind him again and starts moving her right hand in between his shoulder blades. She stops in one point and leaves only two of her fingers making contact. Naruto expects a jolt of chakra, a prick, pressure, anything, but he feels nothing and the next moment he feels his muscles relaxing. He feels better without knowing that he had felt bad before.      "What the-?"      "Lord Naruto?" Hinata moves to his side, as quick as her kimono lets her. Her hand is in his shoulder and the other hovers near his chest. He's hunched over and Hinata feels the tears coming. She did everything correctly, she may not be as good as her sister, but even she can close and release chakra points. Any child in the clan can close and release chakra points. Closing and releasing chakra points is the cornerstone of the Hyuuga clan and no one, in the history of the clan, has ever been unable to at least be able to use that technique. But this is her we're talking about, the weakest of the heiresses in history, so it is not that far-fetched for her to be the first ever to blunder such basic of the basics. "Lord Naruto?"      Naruto raises his head with a delighted sigh, "That felt great," he can barely believe something so small is able to make him feel so much better. He looks at Hinata with surprise and stops on his tracks as he sees her face. She breathes in a shaky breath, presses her lips in order to stop them from trembling and does her best to smile, "I am glad, Lord Naruto."     "I'm sorry," Naruto says immediately, "did I scare you? I'm sorry."      Hinata shakes her head no and stands to move in front of him. Her legs feel weak but she carries on. What a disgrace. "No." If she wasn't so much of a failure then she would have never even entertained the thought that she could possibly hurt him with a bad executed technique. The fact that she even doubted herself is enough to send her spiraling into despair, and the fact that she may have disgraced herself in front of the Head of the Uzumaki is eating at her. "Pl-please think n-nothing of it, my lord."      There is silence and Hinata would gladly throw herself to the ponds outside, shame herself in another way that was not her stupid stutter. She hates everything, maybe if he had chosen her sister then she wouldn't be making such a fool of herself. Maybe if her father hadn't shamed her for not being her sister, she wouldn't have such a problem with her speech when pressured. Maybe if she was better, then none of this would be even a problem.      She sits in front of Naruto and presses her hands to his chest. She may be a failure and of no consequence but she was going to do what he had asked of her at least. If he would rather have a perfect, free-of-stutter wife then he could choose her sister. Why didn't he just go with her sister and save her the shame?      Hinata releases the chakra point and Naruto makes a point of thanking her. Hinata barely hears him, ready to leave the room and for her father and sister to come back and change his mind. Her movements are practiced and she finishes soon. Thank god.      She is ready for Naruto to dismiss her with a wave of his hand, but he only kneels. "I can see that you are more than capable of releasing chakra points, Lady Hinata. Thank you. May I know why you father decided to propose your sister instead of you?"      Hinata knows this spiel by heart, "Her proficiency-"      "You seem to be capable enough."      "She's f-faster," Hinata wishes he would just let her go, "more controlled."      "May I be blunt, Lady Hinata?"      Hinata raises her eyes and breathes out a yes.      "I am in need of an heir." Hinata can feel her cheeks heating. "I have no desire to wed a child, and although you and your father seem to be of the mind that Lady Hanabi is better at using your clan's technique, if she is only faster and more controlled in doing what you have just showed me, I have no interest in that. May I know what you know about my clan?"      Hinata and her sister studied what they could find about the Uzumaki's, but like any high-positioned clan, they could only find basic information. "Only what is c-common knowledge, my lord."      "In that case, I would love for you to get to know my clan before you make your decision, my lady. I would be honored to receive you and move forward with our relationship with marriage in mind. If you would accept my invitation, It would be my pleasure to have you in my compound starting next week."     Hinata is puzzled. "My father..."     "The Uzumaki are a matriarchal clan, my lady, and in matriarchal clans the decisions are made with the people affected by them, other people are inconsequential. Of course, I will repeat what I said to you word by word to your father, Lady Hinata, I know the ways of this clan." Naruto stands up and waits for Hinata to rise before getting his haori. Hinata moves her hands to help him put his jacket on without thinking. She is still shocked at Naruto's decision.      Before they leave the room, Naruto stops in front of the shoji door and turns to her. He towers over her and in any other occasion she would feel anxious by this situation.      "It has been my pleasure meeting you, my lady, I shall talk with your father about my proposal and await your answer." Hinata looks at him and nods as an answer. "Just keep in mind, Lady Hinata," Naruto moves his hand under her chin and raises her face to him, "we are not beyond kidnapping our brides and grooms if their decisions are faced with opposition."

⁂

As Naruto and Minato leave the compound, her father stands next to her with displeasure oozing out of him. And maybe this is just the shock talking or the comfort of not knowing what is to come. But Hinata feels the itch to run away.

[feminaexlux]

All That Matters  (Pt 2: They’re Multiplyin’ and I’m Losing Control)

Part 2 of All That Matters. Part 1 here

Find this on AO3 here!

⁂

Ladybug convinced a newly transformed Dragon Noir to use Water form and launch himself into the sky. He'd be able to get a look at what was happening from a bird's eye view and find Queen Wasp and the other Miraculous holders. Dragon Noir was hovering above Paris in a large water bubble at the peak of his arc when he contacted her. "Hey 'Bug, she's at the Trocadero, and… you're right," Dragon Noir sighed. "She's got the other heroes all brainwashed and suited up. Except Ka--uh, the fencer girl is just… standing there."

"Is she okay? M-Master Fu isn't with them, is he?" Ladybug asked nervously.

"I think she's fine, just… non-responsive. I don't see him. Am I supposed to see him?" Dragon Noir asked, concerned.

"No! No." Ladybug breathed out a sigh of relief. "Just… just that Queen Wasp doesn't have access to all of the Miraculous then," Ladybug said. Okay. Master Fu was still safe, to a degree. Even though he wasn't really the Guardian anymore.

"Master Fu" was, in fact, not even a real person anymore.

There had been one too many close calls with Master Fu being nearly discovered by Mayura and Hawkmoth, and with Marinette being as hyper-competent as she was, Fu made the decision to retire earlier in the late summer. After all, the Order had been restored and he was no longer the last of his kind. Marinette had proven herself worthy of Guardianship time and time again. He was just too old, too weak, too slow to react and adapt.

Fu had handed over the Miracle Box to Ladybug at the end of summer. His penultimate act as Guardian was to tell her who King Monkey was after handing out the Monkey Miraculous to Kim. Ladybug became the new Guardian of the Miraculous in secret, and the person that was "Master Fu, Guardian of the Miraculous" was no more after he lost all of his memories.

There was one final "gift" that Master Fu had left Ladybug before his memories were erased. Fu had given her his blessing to use him as a decoy. Better to have Hawkmoth track down and find a dead end in a broken old man than wreak more havoc with more Miraculous under his command.

The knowledge of whoever Chat Noir was underneath the mask got lost along with Fu's memories. But that was fine to Ladybug. Chat Noir was simply her partner, and that was enough.

Though losing Master Fu as her mentor and confidante had been such a huge blow to Marinette. She had spent a week crying in secret until Luka had surprised her one day, visiting her in her room. "Thought I'd join you here if that's alright," Luka had said, and Marinette let him stay with her. He'd just smiled and held out his hands to her. He hadn't even asked what was wrong. He was just present, letting her cry in his arms until she couldn't anymore. "If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

It had been a good long time until she was able to speak again. "You're already helping me," Marinette had said quietly, pressing herself into the hug. "This is all that I need."

Ladybug shook her head to get back to the present. She stuck her head out of the water and took a quick scan of her surroundings, making sure she wasn't spotted by anything. She got out of the river, drying out the Lucky Charm scarf as best she could. "Tikki, Mullo, Unify!" This was another Big Secret Marinette kept to herself: that she'd been keeping Mullo's Miraculous on her. It had changed a bit recently, now representing itself as a necklace with a pendant shaped like a guitar pick that she hid under her shirt. Marinette was paranoid enough that she couldn't let anyone see her wear the necklace. Multimouse had detransformed in front of Chat Noir, after all.

Sometimes she transformed into Multimouse without any akumas to deal with - breaking her own rule of not using the Miraculous for personal reasons - to be as small as she felt sometimes and hide away from the world. She and Tikki had a lot of heart to heart conversations tucked into a hatbox in one corner of her room.

This time, she was using it to just be stealthy. She used Multitude to split into several smaller versions of herself, fanning across a large area and running down different streets and alleyways toward the Trocadero.

"She's calling herself Miracle Queen," Dragon Noir mused. "The… the others are surrounding her to defend her. I'd say we're in quite a pickle, my Lady."

Multibug didn't stop running. "How do you feel about trying to draw the honor guard away?" one of her asked.

Dragon Noir snorted. "On it. Easy as pie." Over the comms Ladybug heard her partner shout "Hey there demons, it's me, ya boi Chat Noir! I'm standing right here. You brain-dead zombies want my miraculous? Come and get it!"

…

Okay…

One of the Multibugs pulled out her yoyo and took a look at the screen. Dragon Noir's spot on her map kept jumping around, pulling the group of the other heroes away as they all chased after him. Pegasus was using Voyage to keep trying to intercept but Dragon Noir bounced off in a different direction as fast as lightning. She had to give props to Chat, he sure knew how to play that cat-and-mouse game well.

But Dragon Noir wouldn't be able to keep this up forever if Viperion was working against them. She needed to take down Viperion and this Miracle Queen, and she needed to do that as soon as possible. She kept moving forward, scurrying across as fast as she could to get to cover or hide behind or underneath things, trying to close in and surround Miracle Queen from as many angles as she could get at the Trocadero.

One of her got close, so close. Miracle Queen was standing in front of a line of golden statues, and a Multibug was hiding behind one of the statue plinths when she got grabbed from behind. "Aahhh!" she squeaked out loud.

"Not ssso fassst, little moussse," Viperion said as he turned her toward his face, stressing his s's in what was probably a mockery of Sass. "You'll never get the drop on me, can't you see?" He turned toward Miracle Queen and bowed to her with Multibug firm in his grip. "I've found a pest, My Queen."

Multibug held back another squeak. "Lu--Viperion! Viperion, don't do this, don't listen to her! Don't let her control you!" She had been so sure that Dragon Noir had led them all away, how did Viperion surprise her?! She realized he must have used Second Chance and timed it so he knew just when to turn back and stop her. The other heroes must have coordinated to trick Dragon Noir!

Miracle Queen turned her head lazily, examining her nails with a sour look after giving a quick glance at Viperion presenting her the Multibug in his left hand. "Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. A rat? That's the best you could do, Ladybug?" Miracle Queen leaned in and looked closer at Multibug. "Hmm. Although you do have your Miraculous, but they're so tiny. I don't know how much more useless you could possibly be, but…" A wasp manifested above the Queen's hand, hovering and ready to strike.

There was a lightning fast zzzip and a yoyo snatched up the wasp from right in front of Miracle Queen before she realized what happened. Miracle Queen cried out, looking up only to have a pair of Multibugs drop down from above and wrap the scarf tight around her face, blocking her vision entirely. "What the-- Aaaah!" Miracle Queen screamed as she stumbled backward.

Viperion started reaching for his bracelet but the Multibug in his hand reached out as fast as she could and held back the serpent's head to prevent the reset. The two Multibugs that dropped merged together, and another larger Multibug emerged from the shadows. The 2 larger Multibugs lassoed Viperion's left and right wrists with their jump ropes and pulled away from each other, forcing Viperion's arms apart. They coordinated and pulled their ropes backward, unbalancing Viperion and dragging him off his feet to slam his back up against a statue plinth, knocking the breath out of him. This allowed the Multibug in his hand to wriggle free and pull off his bracelet as he struggled against his bindings.

Miracle Queen pulled off the scarf and threw it on the ground just as a detransformed Luka fell to his knees, the jump ropes untying smoothly from his wrists as the Multibugs pulled away and sprinted off in different directions. "DISGUSTING! Ugh!" She stomped toward Luka and grabbed the collar of his shirt and forced him to look up at her. "You're so useless!"

"Hey! Leave him alone!"

Miracle Queen looked to her side, where a fully sized Multibug was glaring at her. "What, this piece of trash?" Miracle Queen mocked, picking a struggling Luka up by the throat until he was hanging a few inches off the ground. "He belongs with the rest of the filthy garbage!" She threw him at Multibug.

"Luka! No!" Multibug rushed in to catch him and they collided, sending them both tumbling to the ground. She sat up with Luka cradled in her arms, he was still dazed from the impact and mind control but it seemed like he was slowly recovering. Her face was set in rage when she looked up at Miracle Queen. "How could you?!"

Instead of responding Miracle Queen summoned a new swarm of wasps. Miracle Queen commanded her wasps to "Get her!" just as Multibug's earrings beeped, starting the countdown to her powers running out.

Multibug growled, trying to decide between letting Luka down to deal with the threat or getting them both out of there as fast as possible. She made her decision, throwing out her yoyo and hooking it onto a railing, pulling her and Luka away from the Trocadero as fast as she could manage trying to outpace the wasps. But even after a few swings the wasps were still pursuing and inching in closer, much too close for comfort. Multibug wasn't sure where she could go that would be safe so she gritted her teeth and dove both her and Luka into the Seine.

⁂

Luka's head was swimming in black and white static. It felt like he was floating in a sea of quicksand, getting swallowed up and drowning in grainy noise. He couldn't have any thoughts of his own last longer than a second, they'd all been drowned out by this stupid buzzing. He must have gone crazy.

"--bzzzkrrzzzzkstshshhbzzzshzzzLuka!bzzzsrrkzstzz--" Wait, that was… that sounded like-- "--rrrbkzzzzshshkstbzzzssskchssshbrLuka!rssshkzzzbzkrrrrbzzz--" Marinette! For one split second he saw her. She'd been panicked, looking up at him with worry. He hated that he made her feel this way.

He felt his legs being forced to move. Something was tugging at his hand, something warm, something small, but the sensation of it kept slipping away unless he fought hard to concentrate on it. Then it let go, letting him fully sink back into the static. He could sense that he'd been walking for some time, and then he stopped. There was this… grating noise on top of the static that must have been someone's voice tell him something… something about… the Miraculous?

Hissing sounds started overlying the buzzing in the background. He felt something tightly coil at his wrist, and when he could stop and focus against the pressure wave of sound that pressed into him from all sides, he noticed that a lot of that hissing came from… that coil? It was shapeless, the definition of its boundaries lost in the black and white grainy spots that covered his vision.

He felt that thing that was hissing bite into his wrist, and man, ouch, what the heck was that-- He started seeing distinct outlines and colors, forms and shapes, could hear silence beyond the buzzing… He could faintly see Sass? That little guy was sinking his fangs into Luka's wrist… He almost got back in control of his senses with the pain from Sass' bite when it felt like his head got yanked back by an invisible hand and it slammed his head forward into the static, sending him back into confusion.

Wait, could he… he couldn't tell if he was breathing, but he could still feel his heartbeat. He needed to focus on that, maybe try to feel the pattern, feel the pulse, meditate on that constant rhythm like a metronome. Could he break free from the static with that?

Sass bit him again. Luka was hoping it was the kwami trying to help more than hurt Luka. He trusted Sass, didn't he? Yeah. Yeah, why did he question that? There was a blinding flash that forced Luka to blink and he forgot about both his meditation and Sass trying to get his attention. What might have been an eternity or a few seconds later, there was another flash, but Luka tried to keep his eyes open. He could swear he saw Sass more clearly in that flash, but what did that mean?

There was another flash. Followed by two more. He'd grabbed something in his left hand. Mouse, he suddenly thought. "--zzzzzzbzzzzhssssssssshshshchtchssszzzzViperion!brrsssszzzzzrrzzz--" Viperion? Was that who he was? Were the blinding flashes his use of Second Chance? Wait… who was calling him? He had the faintest impression of red, or pink maybe, or blue-- Marinette's eyes were staring back up in fear, in pleading -- why couldn't he help her? He wanted to make her happy but he'd just been so--

"You're so useless!"

Yeah. He knew that.

The static noise abruptly stopped and he was looking up at yellow and black, the masked face of Miracle Queen. Her magenta eyes were narrowed and mocking and full of derision. She lifted him by the throat and he was struggling against her, but then he got flung aside. Marinette's voice cut through the lingering thick fog in his mind. "Luka! No!" He landed on something softer than the concrete ground. "How could you?!" Marinette yelled at Miracle Queen, sounding the most angry he'd ever heard her.

Wait, this wasn't Marinette… was it? Luka had tried to get a better look at the girl who was holding him up but then she sent them both soaring through the sky, pulled along by her… magic yoyo. Ladybug? She didn't look like Ladybug… or no he saw some red and black along with the pink and gray of the rest of her suit.

His face was right next to hers. He heard the beeping of her earrings get faster. He also heard Chat Noir's voice coming through Ladybug(?)'s earrings. "Sorry 'Bug, I'm out -- I gotta recharge!"

"Me too!" Ladybug replied, yelling over the wind. "Sorry Luka, we're going in," she said more quietly, pulling him in closer and cradling his head against her chest. Then they both plunged into the Seine.

⁂

To be continued...

Oh boy what a pickle >_>

[patchessolostan]

vertigo

a snippet of a dnf fic i’m kinda working on. 1.8k, canon-ish

Isn’t it strange, how sometimes, certain smells can inspire old feelings, can awaken memories that seemed to be forgotten? The delicate pathways in our brains weaved together in unintended ways, so tight and durable, and yet completely slipping past our radar.

For example, love, to George, smells like oranges.

It’s one of his first ever memories: a Christmas morning two decades ago, the faint tickle of his wool sweater, the subtle warmth of the sun spilling down his back. And his mother’s hands, skin soft and unmarred, neat, rounded nails digging into the orange, carefully peeling it and then splitting its tender flesh. It’s hazy at best, but the smile on her face, his father’s laughter, the sweet juice spilling past his lips—they’re as clear as day still.

He thinks there’s no amount of time that could fade the memory of that warmth from his chest.

 So, perhaps George should’ve known his fate since the day Dream told him his shampoo is orange scented.

But then again, who's to say he would've wanted to change a single thing?

 “I’ll wear the brightest blue clothes I have,” Dream promises, and George can hear the grin in his voice. He always can, whenever the topic of George’s approaching visit comes up. “So much blue, you’ll want to vomit when you see me.”

“That seems counter-productive,” George answers, giggling when Dream sighs dramatically.

“Fine,” he relents when George quiets down. “It’ll be a mild headache. I’m sure you can deal with that.”

I think I could deal with anything, as long as I get to meet you, George thinks, and despite his fluttering heart and shaking hands, he doesn’t say it.

“I hate you both. This is unfair,” Sapnap speaks up after staying silent for five solid minutes while they talked about the upcoming trip. George practically jumps and starts giggling again. “It is so unfair, you both suck, and I’ll fucking block you. Try me.”

“Oh no,” Dream wheezes out, and the sound of both his and George’s laughter easily conceals Sapnap’s muttered insults and protests.

“C’mon,” George says eventually. “At least you know how he looks like. I’m crossing the ocean to meet a fucking stranger.”

“...fair enough,” Sapnap agrees, and Dream just wheezes harder.

George bites his lip before letting his grin fully unfurl as he stares down at his fidgeting fingers.

I’m meeting him.

He wants to scream. Instead George just gently smacks his forehead on his desk.

 Ever since the plans get made, the ticket bought (Dream insists on paying, despite George’s half-assed protests), time seems to move both incredibly fast and insanely slow.

Still, soon enough there’s only a week left to his flight. And yet... George feels like every waking hour takes three more to pass. And it’s not like he can waste the hours away by sleeping, like before.

Now every time he lays down and closes his eyes, all George can think of are warm arms around him. All he can see in his mind is that still blurry face and a mess of dark blonde hair. That wheezy laugh in his ear, the Hello, George that Dream will inevitably whisper, so close that his breath will brush past his skin and set George alight from inside out.

It's already driving George crazy, and he's still almost 7 thousand kilometres away.

 He packs his bag, and then pulls it apart while looking for a charger, and packs again, and again, and again, in a seemingly never-ending cycle of anxious fidgeting.

He starts planning three different videos at once and scrapes two of them once he's almost done.

He turns Twitter notifications off, and tries to keep his phone face down on the desk, but as the date creeps closer, it's getting harder and harder. Somehow, he seems to spend even more time talking to Dream, even if before it seemed almost impossible.

Despite his big words, Sapnap isn't actually upset. In fact, he's possibly just as excited as George, which he finds hilarious and annoying at once. And though Dream seems to agree with George, he doesn't try to calm neither of them down, instead just feeding the flames.

Surprisingly, the trio manage to keep the meetup plans from fans; that’s not to say that they don’t sense a new kind of tension between them. Every worried, questioning donation and tweet is hard to ignore, with the way George’s tongue itches with impatience.

For now, it feels too fragile, too private to share, at least until he plants his feet on the Florida soil, until he hears Dream laugh in real life and watches the way his face lights up in real time.

 And then, as if no time at all has passed, it's here.

 Tomorrow, Dream texts in lieu of goodnight. George flops over in his bed a few times, legs uncomfortably tangled in the sheets, bottom lip between his teeth.

Tomorrow, he answers, and it feels like a promise.

George curls his fingers around his phone, pushing it under the pillow, and then buries his face under it too, cheeks hot from the force of his smile.

That night is full of fitful, anxious sleep, and when George wakes, it’s with a start. He jumps up and stumbles out of bed in panic.

It's so quiet in the apartment—too quiet, too still, like the world itself has paused. His heart is racing as he scrambles through the sheets for his phone.

Did he oversleep? Did he miss the alarm? Did he even set an alarm? The memories of last night are hazy, and George thinks his heart will push out into his throat when his fingers finally brush against glass.

All breath rushes out of him when the screen turns on, a clear 6:41 AM on his lockscreen.

He's fine. The anxiety pulls back, leaving George's muscles weak and sleep-tired, so he slumps on the ruffled sheets.

Thought I overslept, almost had a heart attack, he sends to Dream, fully expecting him to laugh at his expense when he finally wakes up.

To George's surprise, the message gets read immediately.

I would’ve called you :), comes through, and before George can answer, Dream writes again.

I’ll have to call a cab for us. Haven’t slept since yesterday.

George huffs out an amused breath.

Would be a shame to kick the bucket right after meeting you, he replies and closes his eyes, placing the phone on his chest.

Now that the panic from before has subsided, another takes its place, slowly rising up and overtaking his pliant body like a tide.

There it is, the final dance, the last conversation where George can’t imagine the face behind the words; it’s just as frightening as it is thrilling. It’s bittersweet on his tongue, a piece of rotten fruit in his mouth.

He can’t help but wonder—what if it changes everything? What if it’s nothing like he expects? What if Dream realizes he can’t stand George when he can’t just leave the call?

George’s not a kid, he’s not all that naïve, and he’s well aware that people who work perfectly when there’s an ocean between them, can clash horribly once they share personal space. Life isn’t a fairy tale where everything works out perfectly, with a happy ending for everyone tied up in a neat bow.

His phone vibrates, scattering the restless thoughts, and George opens his eyes, pausing for a moment before finally lifting it.

At least I’d die a happy man.

He stares at his phone for a while, heart fluttering so hard, George barely manages to breathe in.

Perhaps he’s stupid enough to believe in good endings anyway.

 //

 Anxiety, however, smells like sweat and gasoline.

It didn’t always, but now George doesn’t think he could ever be in an airplane and not remember this day. Sitting in a packed airplane, left leg jumping up and down, fingers tightly gripping his elbows, as George stares through the window and waits for the plane to take off. Begging, pleading his mind to change gears, think of anything else but the upcoming moment.

A child whines behind him, some lady argues with the flight attendant, the doors close, the engine starts, and then UK is just a smear of colours underneath him.

He leans back and lets time and space run its course.

 The Orlando airport is a mess of sounds and lights that grate on George’s groggy mind as he slowly makes his way to the baggage claim. His phone is quiet, and he can’t help but keep glancing at it, knowing full well there’s no answer to his short I’m here.

Fear firmly grips his throat in a fist, a cruel voice whispering dreadful forecast, no matter how hard George tries to not listen.

He’ll take one look at you, and he’ll see, it promises as George waits for his suitcase to show up. He’ll figure it out, now that there’s no screen to hide behind. And he’ll be disgusted. He’ll ask you to leave.

Dream wouldn’t, George wants to argue; but then again. Just how well does he know Dream?

This is the first time he’ll see him, and they’ve known each other for years now. There could be a stranger behind the screen, one not as kind and wonderful as the Dream he’s used to. One that would—

“George?”

The all-too-familiar voice stops George in his tracks, and his muscles lock up, brain painfully blank as he worries his bottom lip.

Eventually, perhaps after way too long, George turns around.

And there he is.

 He’s wearing a navy t-shirt and blue jeans, just as promised, and his smile is so wide it takes up half of his face, and George can’t tear his gaze away from it. He knows he should be exploring the face that’s brand new to him, committing all the features to memory so even weeks later, they’d be perfect and fresh.

And yet, it’s those peach-pink lips he can’t stop staring at, like some stereotypical fool.

“Dream?” he whispers, though his feet don’t dare to move.

“I knew I should’ve worn something brighter,” Dream says. His voice is light, and happy, and he’s coming closer, and George can’t quite breathe in, his chest seized in an iron grip.

He wants to answer with a quip, a joke, the way he could when it was just the two of them in a Discord call, but he realizes any words would be followed by tears; and that’s just not the way to make a first impression.

So, George stays quiet and lets his suitcase drop when Dream wraps his arms around him.

Dream is so warm. The cotton of his shirt is soft underneath George’s palms. He smells like summer, like citrus fruit and the ocean, and George almost instinctively buries his nose in his shoulder.

Dream’s breath stutters near George’s ear.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispers, lips brushing over George’s skin and sending waves of heat and cold down to his toes.

“Me too,” he answers, and pulls his best friend even closer, feeling complete and safe for the first time in a long, long while. “Me too.”

[hazbinextgeneration]

Into The Casino Ch14

(Disclaimer: The two songs Hey Pachuco and Sway and the lyrics sung are in NO way mine or my property. They all belong to their rightful owners: One being from the soundtrack from the movie The Mask, and the other performed by Pablo Beltrán Ruiz BUT for this I used the glee version of Sway performed by the glee cast. I used them just for the characters to dance and sing to, the dances performed also have no name and I just made them up but some were inspired by movies. I own NOTHING!! Thanks for reading. If you wanna get a good idea for the first swing dance, watch the dancing part from The Mask at the Cocobongo.) True to Disease's words, he kept a much closer eye on the sulking unicorn for the rest of their stay there. Which wasn't too long. He ate and talked a little more with this Dolly person, but he still snapped his head to her every five to ten minutes and she still sat there. Looking disappointed and bored, but he seemed happy with that. You wouldn't imagine her relief when he finally decided it would be the best time to leave and they were finally able to go home. Lou was..very delighted to see them back home, smile wide and gave an expected look to Disease once Cyber lead the sad looking gal away.

"Well? You didn't let any 'mishaps' happen did you?" Those red eyes narrowed. Disease just waved a hand. "Psh. You kidding me? She didn't find out anything she wanted. Asssk her yourself if ya don't believe me." And he did, but in a casual way not wanting to seem suspicious. Asking questions like: So how was your trip? Was Disease acting in a rude manner? Did anyone touch her?...Did she get to speak with Rita and was the conversation to her liking? She just answered no to most. Always keeping ears back and avoiding eye contact, which he was pretty suspicious of. But he didn't push it too hard. She wasn't acting too different from when they left and she still aloud him near and gave him the same treatment as before, but he still couldn't be too sure. So he asked the question, would you want to go back? And her answer was exactly what he wanted to hear. "...No. It's too loud and reeks of bad choices. I'd rather not get anymore headaches." His smile couldn't have been any bigger and happier. Almost all suspicions thrown out the window...almost. But he could deal with them later. He had more important things to think about, like if he wanted his future garden to have one section of red roses and another for mixed colored roses, or if she should just mix all the different rose bushes together into one multicolored section. My, my the choices were plentiful. But thanks to her little plan, he was on higher alert, he unfortunately couldn't spare Cyber very often, so it was up to Disease to keep an eye on her, and fortunately he didn't object...But it was starting to become obviously suspicious to her when she found him peeping into her doorknobs keyhole, and the next day he had found a wad of gum shoved into it....Dammit Disease! But it was obvious she was al least behaving. But time flies fast when you were doing the same boring routine was it not? So she couldn't really have been surprised one day when Lou of course delivered the same list of usual things to do but asked the question, "By chance, do you know ballroom dancing?" Her purple eyes blinked up at him in surprise as she slowly took the list from him. "Um..Y-Yes? I-It was one of the things my tutor insisted I learn, b-but I haven't done it in years." The taller demon hummed, bringing a hand to his chin. Well this wouldn't do. Not at all, which was exactly why he told her to drop by his main office first thing next morning, he'd have a surprise for her. She only rose a brow in confusion when the plant demon happily walked away from her and down the hallway. Most likely to greet more guests or whatever he did when she wasn't looking-...Unknownst to her, he was meeting Cyber in the back. Meeting with the slug from a few days ago. The back alleys were perfect for this sort of thing. Narrow enough so no one could ambush them, but just the perfect size to dispose of him if things went sour. The man was there alright. With an armful of something wrapped in an old dirty cloth, looked quite old. Once those red eyes hit him the man simply...Dumped them. Literally. The man threw the things to his and Cyber's feet without a care in the world and crossed his arms. ..Lou's smile wavering. He's had some rude dealers before but this man was as patient as a hellhound starving for nearly a month, he almost didn't make a deal with him because of how rude and ungrateful he was. It took everything he had to NOT feed him to his plants or have Cyber cut him down into little pieces, because at the time he was already feeling anxious and annoyed at the situation his little pet decided to put him through, but he held it up pretty well- A small clanging noise brought him back when Cyber nudged the wrapped up things with her foot. It felt hard and with the same foot, she caught the edge of the tarp on it and kicked it off. What was inside...was not what they were expecting. Angelic spears absolutely. But these ones...They looked rather old and worn. Rust creeping up on some of them. Lou rose a brow and gave the man a look. "...Really?" He shrugged. "I never said they were in completely perfect condition. I only said they've worked for as long as I've used them, which was quite a lot. Now do you want them or not?" Lou almost gave a growl but instead calmly looked to Cyber who by then was kneeling down and giving the things a calculating look....One of her hands reached down slowly to poke one of the blade tips. A small burning sound was instant when her fingertip touched one of the dull blades and as a result she instantly pulled back and peered up at him. A wide smile spreading over his features. Perfect. Well almost perfect, but he was sure Midnight could polish these things back to normal. A small price to pay for any angelic weapons he could get his hands on..and speaking of pay. The man was standing there obviously expecting something in return. So with a chuckle Lou reached behind his back and pulled out what he wanted, a small jar full of small round orbs. Lou tossed it to the demon who snatched it and grin that disgusting grin at him. "Pleaser doing business with ya." "Yes, yes. Please leave the premise immediately." Lou narrowed his eyes just as the man turned and began leaving..snapping his fingers, a small green vine came out of the back doorway he was standing in and wrapped itself around the weapons in question, bringing them inside before Lou turned to Cyber. "..Recollect those souls will you? I'm needed back on the floor before someone suspects something." He nodded and began off after the man in the same direction. "And do be quick about it. I wouldn't anyone 'specific' noticing." ****************************************************************************************************** Soon enough the day had come to a close and the familiar jar of souls was sitting on top of his desk as he hummed and happily signed away at a few papers, except maybe a new soul had been added to the collection. Cyber did an excellent job as always, but he couldn't care less about the souls for the moment. Right now he had someone on their way and he was dying to get started on the practice he wanted to do, all he needed was the lucky young lady. A few knocks at the door and a nervous shuffling had gotten his attention. The jar of orbs was easily hidden back into a desk drawer and papers were neatly shuffled in his hands. "Come in, Dear." The door slowly opened and much to his delight, purple eyes blinked back to him in confusion. He geatured to the chair in front of him and she slowly walked in. The door closing with a click behind her. Once her body sat down in the chair he chuckled. "Now. You're probably wondering why you're hear, yes?" She nodded yes. She really was. She didn't think she did anything wrong. The list of chores was always done, the paperwork always organized, and other than yelling at Disease when her eye caught him staring at her, she hadn't done anything wrong or acted in any rude manner. So another thought reached her mind, had he or Disease found out about her meeting with Charles?! Was she in trouble!? Was he gonna throw her out!? ..Or worse?! The guilt knotted up and twisted in her stomach and kept her from saying or doing anything else for the rest of yesterday and didn't let her get a good night's sleep. It took all the nerves she had to not stay under her covers, and maybe because Cyber forced her out, and to never knock let alone come in. But he didn't look mad at all, if anything he looked genuinely happy as he stood up. "As I am aware you're not exactly up to speed with dancing yes?" She nodded as he walked around to her seat with a smile. "Well, we can't have you rusty, as I do intend to have a grand time there, and as a man who appreciates the fine arts, I couldn't just stand by and watch you flail around like Disease on alcohol? No, no." He smile leaned down and his hand quickly went to grab hers. "Which is why you and me are going to practice dancing of course." She didn't know whether to be suddenly more releived or suddenly more horrified. Her? Him? Dancing?! Together?! Her mouth dropping slightly opened and he chuckled, only snapping back to it when he pulled her to her feet. "I-I-...You-..Me-..W-WHAT?!" "You heard me, and I won't take no as an answer." Her stunned body was pulled along as he walked her to the door. Big smile on his face. The nervous feeling in her stomach came back ten times as hard as the sudden seriousness of the situation hit her. He was serious about her dancing, and she hadn't even danced in....What? fifty, sixty years?! But he didn't seem to notice her rising fears as he opened the door and walked her out. She was lead down the hall and up to the another larger part of the building she hadn't been down before, not that she wouldn't have explored if Disease was always on her tail. But she blinked when the doors they passed became slightly bigger and the hallway widened slightly, they were too big to have bedrooms or normal bedrooms. Perhaps one of these was Midnight's lab? Sensing her curiousity he chuckled. "These are places I usually host gatherings or are for my personal entertainment. You'll see soon. Now let's see." He hummed eyeing the doors to the left of the hallway, his free hand reaching up hovering in the air as they passed, and his brow raising. Until he finally stopped her. "Ah! Here we are!" "H-Here where?" He chuckled and let go of her. Not answering as he grabbed both doors and pushed them open. Bright lights overhead lit up and what they shown was an absolute marvel. Polished wooden floors different from the rest of the casino shined up at their owner as he walked along them, almost showing his reflection in the pale tan wood. The walls were just as pretty as the floor she noticed when she leaned her head in, beautiful wall paper showed a painted on scenes of a walk in garden. For all she new perhaps they were famous gardens on the living world long forgotten. A large crystal chandelier was connected to the ceiling but this one was much smaller and styled differently than the giant ones in the casino and lobby. She blinked and looked around. To the far left side was ..Well she guessed it must've been what Cyber told her was a jukebox, it didn't look old though. In fact this jukebox looked as if someone tuned it up to look more advanced, and next to it was something she definitely something she recognized. A record player! It's tuba like horn attatched to it's table body and crack lever were undyeable and so was the giant shelf of records next to them. They must've been for the jukebox and record players. She tilted her head and only looked back to Lou when she heard his footsteps walking somewhere. She blinked and watched curiously as he started towards the two music making machines she was staring at. Tail swishing behind him as his eyes immediately scanned some of the selections all the while humming. Red talons glazing across the thin black disks before stopping and pulling one plain looking record out from one of the middle shelves. "Well? Come in and we shall get started," he motioned for her to come in with one hand as he made his way to the record player. She..reluctantly did as he carefully placed the round disk onto the machine and using his other arm, carefully reached over and began cranking the lever to wind the music box she blinked as the small needle was placed onto the record that had started spinning and a weird tuba noise came out of the giant horn before the small beginnings of violins and a flute made their debut out of it. And she blinked...This just wasn't ballroom music. It was a waltz. And Lou gave a content sigh as he took off his hat, throwing it ontop of the shelf before turning to her. "Now. Why don't we begin with a few simple steps?" Her eyes widened. "W-Wait. N-Now!? B-But I haven't-" "Shush. I told you Im not taking a no to this. If it helps, Just think of this as a small assignment to help ME instead of you practicing. It might help if you pretend you're not." He made a grab for her waist- Which resulted in her flinching and jumping a few feet away. Both pausing and staring at each other for a few moments before he sighed. Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "....Look. I completely understand your ...unease with me physically connecting with you, but it would mean a great deal to me if you would participate. ....After all. You DID say you would make it up to me for allowing you visitation to Rita's. And I never forget a promise." Her ears went back in guilt. Oh...Right. She did say that didn't she? So this time when he approached her again she didn't move. Slowly he reached a hand out and she allowed one hand on her hip and one to hold her hand in the typical dancing position, but he felt her tense under his grip for sure...Shakily lifting her hand up..moving it to his shoulder- She flinched slightly when he moved his shoulder closer to make contact with her hand...Ok. She could do this. It was just the two of them, in a close position that she hasn't been in in years and those red eyes and smile was just a couple inches away from her now...She gulped down the lump in her throat- "Who taught you how to dance in the first place?" She flinched and blinked up at him. She just calmly stared and his smile...wasn't like the wide smiles he always gave, instead it was smaller. Still there but it looked genuine. And he looked completely serious and interested in that question. "..U-Uh...M-My old t-tutor and her son did. T-They were very kind to me." He hummed. "Were you nervous then as well?" "Y-Yes. But they always made it fun." "Then why don't you pretend that moment's happening all over again." Her eyes blinked up at him. "Remember the beautiful times. Let it all come back. Can you do that?" She hesitated..But with a big inhale she slowly nodded. "Good." He tilted his head behind him as the music sounded like it would be coming to a close. And he shifted his hold on her, she lightly flinched again but he rolled his eyes. "Oh, relax. Im not going to bite, just follow my lead and you'll be swinging across the floor my dear.~...Just relax." She took in a big intake of air before letting it out, just as the final few violin and drum notes faded from the air. A couple more seconds wnt by before the record playing began repeating the music from the still spinning disk. True to his word. Lou gently began to push her and she also froze up then and there not used to having someone so close direct her body's movements but luckily she didn't trip on herself and forced her hooves to move along with him. Stiffly at first, but her mind forced herself to relax in his hold. Remember her. Remember giggling as a child. Remember the fun you had without your father scolding you for unlady like behavior...Remember the fun. To Lou's slight surprise and the easeness of his own body, she slowly began to relax within his hold. Making it easier for him to guide her and ease her steps. And soon the two of them were stepping in graceful circles across the floor, with her occasionally looking at their feet. It was when he started to lean and dip and little more in their swings when she lightly tensed up again but soon forcefully relaxed herself again. Until he attempted to spin her around, she reacted by giving a yelp and falling onto her knees on the first spin. She froze for a few seconds as the music still played and gave a sigh, giving a small jump when he placed a hand onto her shoulder and gave a smile. "I must say. For someone who hasn't danced for quite a while you did better than I expected." He grabbed her arm gently and lifted her back to her feet. Before repositioning themselves back into the same dancing stance. "Now. Once more from the top. And keep in mind that spins and swings are a part of waltzing, Darling. As are dips, but we'll work on just swaying and spinning for now. Your footwork while clumsy is more graceful than you give credit for." She blinked. Was he- Did he just compliment her or criticize her? Either way it didn't stop them from repeating the same steps as before when the music again restarted. "Remember. Relax. Trust in yourself." She kinda lost track of the amount of times they restarted after the third time, but he seemed genuinely happy to be swinging and reteaching her through the steps almost long forgotten. By the time of their fifteen( yes. HE had been keeping count of exactly how many times she messed up, he couldn't help it. It was in his nature to calculate his partner's moves. Especially after that small surprise she pulled.) restart. It seemed some of those memories were starting to come back as her steps started to become easier and she started to not tense up as much as say two hours ago, but she looked tired. So after he dipped her one last time, with her clutching onto his shoulders before he pulled her back up, he let go of her. She blinked as he reached out to straighten himself giving a snap of his red talons. "You dance devine my dear. But for now we're done." A green vine came out of nowhere wrapped around his top hat, which he graciously took before planting it back on top his head. "But you still need much more practice. I'll let you have the rest of the day off, but prepare yourself for tomorrow. We have less than three weeks, and I intend of making the most of that time." True to his word. Lou kept that promise. The very next day it was right back to it after she got something in her stomach. And again the same results. She still tensed under his hold and still messed up a few steps, once or twice stepping on his foot or god forbid his tail. He barely flinched when this happened but his brow did raise whenever it happened. Which did no good to her because all it did was make her very nervous and thus mess up more. By the fourth day of this he took her aside and tired something different, just swaying in graceful circles without spins or dips, which was much more better but he still felt her body tense and sometimes slightly shaking under him, which he was starting to find unpleasant but not annoying-....Yet. He prided himself on his skills and despite his doubts the two had gained a few steps but not much...Until he talked to Cyber about it all. But all she could offer was a shrug as she watched him shift through papers and stuff on his desk. 'I'll try talkin' to her about it later' was her response and if anyone could figure it out it was Cyber. So he left it in her hands. In the meantime between regular business and 'trying' to get the pony on her feet, he made regular trips to Midnight's lab to see if he could get progress on her fixing up those weapons....It was...Hard for her to do. She had to wear some kind of makeshift mask and gloves to keep any part of the sacred blades from burning or cutting her, and was trying to use any kind of polish and whatever she came up with to restore them to their once perfect state. Slow progress but they were getting there. ...Couldn't say the same for the dancing. Still as stiff and unprogressive as ever. To his dismay. And it was slowly until he noticed a whole week of nothing but barely any progress had passed and he pestered Cyber again for some kind of answer. She looked at him for a couple seconds before shrugging. "Well, whaddya expect? She doesn't like anyone touching her, you make her feel pressured, and she probably suppressed those memories after being chained who knows where for who knows how long. Instead of trying to force her to relax, why not find something about the subject that appeals to her?" It was like a lightbulb had went off in his head. And he smiled. OF COURSE!! Why hadn't he thought of that sooner?! Cyber was definitely a genius at times, and a smile reappeared on his face. So the very next day when she showed up for probably the eighth day, he was grinning ear to ear with a grin of his face compared to her sad and tired look. "Amalfia, my dear. Tell me, what music and dance do you really enjoy?" He asked once he started leading her off again and she blinked surprised at his strange question. Before shaking her head. "It's stupid, and really unlady like-" "Oh hush." He waved his hand. "I don't care if it's square dancing like drunken hill billys. If you enjoy it I want to know what you like. I want to get to know you better." Her eyes blinked surprised up to his face..but she again shook her head. "It's stupid like I said....But I r-really like s-swing?" He blinked back..and laughed, her head tilted curiously at him before his grin became more excited. "My dear little flower.~ You are speaking to someone who has basically mastered that art.~" To his delight. Her eyes lit up. "You..Y-You like swing?" He nodded and a small smile came to her. "And jazz?" He chuckled and nodded again. Delighted to get her attention and a smile on that little face of hers. Those purple eyes lit up like a darn holiday tree. "D-Do you..do you dance to it?" He stopped. Giving her an even bigger smile at the meer question. "My dear." His hand came to settle himself on the door. "I just said I mastered that art. But knowing you also enjoy it..heh. Well we know what we're doing today!" With a push both doors opened and he lead her over to the shelf, when he still tugged onto her arm and she blinked in surprise when he happily gestured to the swing labeled section."You may pick any you like?" "R-Really?," she gaped excitedly. "Yes, but in return. I expect to be able to dance with you to it. No buts. I enjoy a good dance with my dear lady. Deal?" She hesitated. Her father forbad her to even touch another record after he learnt about her tutor teaching her this 'new aged degenerate crap' as he put it and she only ever danced to it with her now most likely deceased friend. ....But your dad's not here a voice whispered. That smile appeared back to her face a bit. She..still had to let him hold her hand but..with swing..most of the moves required barely any contact beyond that. That thought accompanied by the feeling of the swinging jazz bands just a finger tip away...She happily turned to him and nodded yes to his request. In turn he smiled and gestured a hand to the shelf. She didn't hesitate to start looking at the records he presented to her. He patiently waited as she pulled one or two out, glanced over the titles of the songs written on them, before placing them back into place....Eventually she pulled one out near the end if the shelf, flipping it over in her hands, and turned back to look at him. His raised a brow. "Find something you like?" She gave it a nervous look over before handing it to him. He took it and read over the title: Hey Pachuco. With a smile he looked back to her in question. "Are you quite sure? This is fast paced and with your footwork being a bit...out of touch, I wouldn't want you hurting yourself." ...With a slow inhale and exhale, she nodded. "I-I..want to try again. And this time..I wanna do it for myself." He hummed and looked back to it for just a moment. "...Alright just get onto the floor, and don't be surprised by what we're about to do." She nodded and made her way to about the middle of the floor, just as he put the said recording in and began winding the lever up again, he seemed almost excited as he carefully put the needle on and tossed his hat away. Wouldn't be needing that with what he was about to do. The thing coughed a bit of static as he made a few steps before pausing a little ways away from her. She tilted her head when he didn't come any closer but paused when the sound of drums came a beating out and her ears immediately perked at the familiar sound. Lou however was already tapping his feet to the beat of those drums, when they started getting faster he finally bounced a few steps towards her before suddenly sliding and grabbing onto her. Dipping her just as trumpets blasted out of the drum beats. Which caught her completely off guard and making it easy for him to perform the next moves as the song sung out of the thing. When he suddenly brought her back up, one arm around her and one grabbing her arm, and in a tango like motion rocked them from side to side. Her brain still hadn't quite caught up yet and so it was easy for him to just suddenly push her away from him next time all the trumpets sounded at once, before pulling her and ducking under her arm so she was pushed away from him again- Only to have her unsuspecting self be pulled back into his embrace, and be given a small spin. She blinked, brain finally catching up a little but only enough to notice his actual...genuine happy smile- Only for him to expertly pull her back to him with a spin so her back was facing him, and she was made to do an actually cartwheel- Fear spiked in her as she was about to crash into the floor on her side, but that was swiftly dashed when she was again grabbed and half dragged half spun against the floor twice in a circle before being pulled up fast and spun out to where she managed to stay on her legs and finally give a look to him. His body still bouncing to the beat of the drums and trumpets as he gave her a half lidded look..Clearly saying: 'Well? Are you going to pick up the slack?' ..And she was quick to respond with a ...smug smile of her own. Oh! That made something in him feel only slightly challenged. So it was no surprise when the singer of the band finally started playing when he made another slide grab for her- Only for her to completely duck under him and grab his shoulder, turning him around just as the first 'HEY!' from the chorus shouted, he didn't seemed fazed at all as he grabbed her hand and the two came to a tap dance of sorts. Her almost perfectly mimicking him and him raising a brow at her attempts to catch up. The game was on! He brought her into a few more spins and she unexpectedly dodged some of his grabs at her and did some twirls of her own. Until he finally managed to grab her and to her surprise lift her almost onto his shoulder, making her spin in mid air before catching her and pushing her arm's length away again. This time when she was pulled back and made to do another cartwheel however- He caught her mid flip back into her feet and with strength she didn't know he had, he actually hoisted above him in the air. And spun around a few times as he pivoted on his heel, only for her to then be twisted around his body and pulled back up into a standing position. Spun out from him and shakily spin back onto her feet as a drum solo started up. As they beat, she took the moment to push her blonde and white hair from her face and look towards the still slightly bouncing and smiling demon. "...Well? Is that the best you can do?" He held out a hand to her. Fangs flashing. "Impress me!!" She smirked back. A look he hadn't seen on her but was quite interested to see! As her body suddenly began to bounce on it's own from his. And she did. When the trumpets came back, she slide right toward her and she ducked- But this time immediately popped back up and grabbed him. He was slightly surpised when HER of all people spun him back around and grabbed his hand and pulled. He spun out a little bit but immediately regained composure, quickly turning and grabbing her when she slid towards him. Lifting her up and then next to him. As if having the same thoughts, the mirrored the same in place movements with their arms and legs before both spinning, Lou's hand suddenly grabbing her's and taking her for multiple spins around himself. Before stopping and dipping her- Only to suddenly be thrown in the air twirling who knows how many time before falling back into his arms. Twisted around before making a final stop when he was- Oh gosh. Holding her bridal style and dipping her enough to where their faces were inches apart. Making her freeze. Just as the last few notes finally blasted out. Silence rang out as the two of them stared at each other. Her heart was hammering in her ears and her lungs taking quick breaths from her lungs..But him. he just grinned that half lidded studying grin at her...before slowly sitting himself back up and gently placing her back down. Her hooves met the ground with a small tapping sound and she felt wobbly. Smiling plastered on her face and her hand coming to clutch her chest. Lou was also breathing a bit faster from the rush, but was more calm and straightened himself out. until he heard a snort. He rose a brow to her and to his surprise another snort escaped her, and she covered her mouth...Before her eyes closed and a roar of happy laughter escaped her lungs. He stood there for a long moment...Before smiling back triumphantly at her once she finally got ahold of herself enough to look at her. Her face was twisted in a joyous shade of light pink and her eyes twinkled in a way he hadn't seen her do before now. "...Y-Y-You weren't kidding when you said you were a m-m-master at it." Her lungs heaved ad her arms clutched her stomach. " T-That was the most f-fun I've ever had down here!!" With that he gave a chuckle and gave a glance to his red talons. "But of course.~ I wouldn't lie about my skills.~ And if you enjoyed my dancing you should hear me sing-" "You-....You sing?" Her head was tilted at him curiously like a puppy before another smile graced her face. "M-May I see?" He stared at her a moment before humming, hand coming up to tap his chin. "Hm. I suppose so, but if I'm gonna work, then I expect another dance out of you. It's only fair." She happily nodded in agreement to his deal and he hummed in delight. After all, if he was going to sing for her then it was only fair she danced for him. The upbeat swing music was already starting to replay itself on the still spinning machine and the upbeat drums from before began drumming out, until Lou walked over to the record player and pulled the needle back up, effectively stopping the music with a record stopping sound. The machine seemed to stop moving as soon as the plant demon removed the needle. Before, with record delicately in hands, turned back to the shelf humming to himself and carefully slid the large black disk into it's proper place. Amalfia watched curiously as his eyes scanned the piles of records, until shifting back to the swing section.....His red finger pulled one record out near the front, and he curiously peered at the name written on it. It read: Sway. And he made a small 'mm-hm', before turning and placing it onto the machine. The lever cranked just as usually before he turned and with a few long strides made it to her. But unlike the few times before he rose a brow curiously..before giving a bow. She blinked a little caught off guard before catching up and giving a slight curtsy back- Before he pulled her into his form and into the same ballroom style stance as before. She still flinched under his touch, but too his utter delight, her body didn't tense up and she still had that goofball smile on her face. He chuckled as the music finally started up and it was a cha-cha like music with trumpets and at least one violin and cowbell. And he started by leading her across the floor and slightly rocking back and forth, before giving her a spin or two that she DIDN'T fall from this time and was pulled back against him as the music paused for one brief moment- "When marimba rythms start to play dance with me, make me sway.~" When he said 'sway' he really did sway her, but with a half dip so her body came back up and back into standing position and he moved her across the floor in graceful circles again. "Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore.~ Hold me close. Sway me more.~" Again the same half dip sway as he pulled her out arm's length- "Like a flower bending in the breeze, bend with me.~" He quickly pulled her back in with a full dip before pushing her back up with the next sentence. "Sway with ease.~" She. Was....Surprised. Yes. She heard quite a few big names and random men sing, and their voices were just lovely. But Lou's- Maybe it was just the way the walls were echoing his voice or the music accompanying it. Or maybe it was just not hearing anyone sing in the longest time...But coming from a demon with red eyes- His voice was absolutely heavenly, velvety smooth, and it was CLEAR this wasn't his first time singing like this. It had only been a few sentences but he acted like this was everyday living, his posture calm, and not showing the slightest ounce of unease. "When we dance, you have a way with me, stay with me.~'' He brought her back up and ran his red claws gently under her chin making her immediately turn pink as a result, before suddenly pushing her out and leading her in a circle at arm's length. "Sway with me.~ Other dancers may be on the floor. ~ Dear-" She was suddenly brought back in with a spin that put her back against him and he gave her a giant sly smirk before saying the next line. "-But my eyes will see only you.~" She was spun around again to face him with a another graceful circle. "Only you have that magic technique!~ When we sway I go weak!~" She was spun a few times as the trumpets and drums made three hard notes followed by another half second pause which ended her back facing him again. "I can hear the sounds of violins long before it begins.~" He moved from their stilled position by slowly rocking their bodies and slowly rotating them as if in a slow dance. "Make me thrill as you know how.~ Sway me smooth.~ Sway me now.~" Again that same half lidded genuine smile and her heart actually...Jumped? What? Her excitement and fun from the earlier dance, but he couldn't help but internally smirk at her clearly bedazzled eyes and pink cheeks. Oh his sweet little naïve weapon. If only you could see how cute you looked falling into your place on the puzzle. But he was true to his word, as he never turned down a good deal yet. And this one was a great deal. There was a brief pause in his singing with just the upbeat swing playing. During that time he made sure to sway her a few more times, giving the occasional spin, all with a smile on his face. But it was when he finally pulled her back in from a spin and held her against him did her face go from pink to red. "Other dancers may be on the floor.~ Dear.~ But my eyes will see only you.~" He took her for another spin on the word 'you', and kept her spinning as he sang out. "Only you got that magic technique.~ When we sway I go weak!~" The same three hard notes played out and on the last one he brought her back in yet another dip and she felt dizzy. But she wasn't sure if it was from the spinning or the way her head felt like the burning sun. "I can hear the sounds of violins-" He brought her back up into that slow dance swaying and rotating in a small circle. And they stayed like that for a while. "-long before it begins.~ Make me thrill as you know how.~ Sway me smooth.~ Sway me now.~ When marimba rythims start to play, dance with me. Make me sway.~ Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore, hold me close.~ Sway me more.~" The music completely stopped for a second and so did they. She just heard the beating of her own heart, and his smile and those red eyes stared right at her. "...Like a flower bending in the breeze!~" The trumpets came back on full blast and he pulled her away from him at arm's length. His voice now much louder than before but still not rough. If anything he was putting more passion into this as she was pulled back into him into a dip. "Bend with me!~ Sway with ease!~" At 'sway' he once again swung her around in a half circle before more spinning began. "When we dance, you have a way with me!~ Stay with me!~ Sway with ease!~" At the second 'sway' she was stopped and faced him again. "WHEN THE RYTHM STARTS TO PLAAAAY!!~ HOLD ME CLOSE!!~ MAKE ME SWAAAY!!~" At 'play' he did something different when he suddenly grabbed her leg and pulled it up, making her squeak. But when he sand 'hold me close' he pressed her against him gently, before dipping her at 'sway' again. "LIKE AN OCEAN HUGS THE SHOOORE!!~ HOLD ME CLOSE!!" He brought her up still holding her against him before actually lightly picking her up and twirling her around at the next 'sway'. "SWAY ME MOOORE!! LIKE A FLOWER BENDING IN THE BREEZE!!" She was suddenly again dipped at 'bend'. "BEND WITH MEEE!~ SWAY WITH EASE!!~" At 'sway' her leg was let loose as he simaltaniously swung her back up and his now free hand grabbed onto one of hers. And he pushed her out from him again. "WHEN WE DANCE YOU GOT A WAY WITH MEEE!!~ STAY WITH ME!!~" She was pulled back and spun around. "SWAY WITH MEEEEEEE!!~" She was stopped completely and suddenly pulled back against him just as the very last note was played out. And she was left staring into those red eyes for a few silent few seconds....before he chuckled and slowly let go of her. WIthout him supporting her against him, she wobbled back onto jelly feeling legs and brought her hands up. One pushing the hair from her eyes while the other coming to cup her still warm and red cheek. He however chuckled. ....It was STILL like he hadn't even broken a sweat and simply went to straighten himself up. Humming as he straightened his bow and walked back towards the record player just as the music once again started to replay on loop. The needle was plucked from the record and then said record was removed from the spinning platform, making the machine give the same record stopping sound and completely stop working. Humming as he moved to place it back onto the shelf. Still feeling the happiness of the woman behind him. Before chuckling again. Oh how he loved it when his plans went so smoothly! Midnight doubting his plan all along, but joke's on her now. He snapped his fingers and a random vine brought down his hat as he placed it back onto his head- He froze....Something had just wrapped around him. It was just maybe for two seconds before she flinched back away but it was enough to make all thoughts and body movements stop for a complete few seconds. ...His red eyes blinked and he slowly turned around to be faced with the red faced unicorn. She gave a nervous smile before looking away. "S-S-Sorry. I-I just wanted to t-thank you for t-t-the great time. Y-You s-s-sing beautifully." He still blinked before shaking it off and smiling at the compliment. "It's quite alright my dear. No harm done." His hand came to give a few pats to her shoulder. "And Im so delighted to hear you enjoyed our little session, as did I. After all we've been trying to do that little step for a while." Her face blinked back confused and he chuckled. "Oh my dear. Did you not realize? The same dance we had just done, was the very same waltz you've been tripping over for almost a week now." ......She blinked. That was- They were- THEY SAME WALTZ!? How did she not notice that?!..She must've been too distracted to notice but again slightly jumped when he put his hat on and slung an arm around her. Still chuckling at her pink cheeks. "You did wonderful progress, just as I said you would. And I never lie. But you still need plenty of practice before the big day, but for now. Let us get back to regular work. Shall we?~"

All characters besides Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

[kl4us4]

FISTS OF FURY (Geralt of Rivia x Reader)

Summary: Travelling with Geralt has always been... interesting. While on the search for Ciri, you both find yourselves in Velen, where Geralt is faced by three overzealous, strong armed fighters.

A/N: ok so I love the Witcher series & I also am super into the game so this is a mix of both but based on a side quest in Witcher 3. this is kinda just me dabbling into a show i love 

“He’d beat all you fools with his eyes closed!” Jaskier shouts, looking around at the group of boys and men. When Geralt gives the bard a glare, you hold back a laugh. The things Jaskier gets the group into is insane. The boy has such a big mouth.

“Is that so?” One of the fighters scoffs, his eyes raking Geralt’s muscles, “The thing about strong men is that they have muscles in the wrong places!”

“Yeah!” Another agrees, sitting on top of the gate to the small ring where the fighting takes place, “I bet he’s dumb as a stone!”

“Hm,” is all Geralt responds with, seemingly thinking to himself: if only they knew. You watch Geralt eye the men, no doubt forming a plan in his mind.

Moving from his position leaning against a wooden pole, Jonah steps in front of the Witcher. And his eyes take in the older mans rough appearance. The strangers eyes then land on you, doing the same to your body before he flicks his eyes back to the tall Witcher standing closely beside you. 

“What? Jonah tilts his head, his blue eyes flicking to you, “You afraid you’ll lose your lady?”

Jaskier lets out a loud, humourless laugh. You can’t help but smile at the mans bravery. You watch Geralt, who crosses his arms and shifts on his feet though he gives a smile of his own. He has no doubts about you. “I’m afraid for your dignity,” the Witcher admires, watching Jonah as he gives you a look, “A man who speaks the most often has very little to say.”

“What d’ya think?” Jonah inquires, ignoring Geralt’s comment and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “Think your big boy is man enough?”

You let out a low chuckle as you look at the young man, indulging his fantasies, “And... What if he isn’t?” 

Jaskiers eyes grow wide, he looks between you and Geralt; who keeps on smiling. Jonah lets out a hum of his own, leaning closer into you. Geralt knows you’re doing it to rile him up, especially with the way you’re watching him as this stranger speaks to you like you belong to him. “Then we have some fun of our own. And you forget about the white haired freak.”

“How much do you want to bet?” Geralt now clenches his jaw, his voice deep. He can hear everything Jonah says to you, though it’s in a low whisper. And he can hear the disgusting young man’s heart speed up when his eyes flutter to your chest. If Geralt were morally corrupt, he would’ve beat the daylights out of Jonah. He’d rather get paid for it.

“145 crowns.” A man announces, placing his hands on Jonah’s shoulders and bringing him away from you. 

“Hm,” Geralt keeps his eyes on Jonah, “For 190 I’ll take out all three of your fighters, one after the other.”

Shouts and whispers erupt around the ring. Looking at Geralt, you raise an eyebrow. 190 crowns isn’t as much as the base rate for his Witcher services. But winning it from these men seems like it’d be even more satisfying. “Deal!” And just like that, Geralt is taking both swords from his back, handing them to Jaskier who’s barely able to set them down next to Roach.

Seeing Jonah and the old man sharing a few words, Jaskier doesn’t even try to reach Geralt’s shoulders, so instead he just exclaims, “You got this, Geralt. You’re the White Wolf, yeah? You’re infamous! You got this, White Wolf, come on.”

To which Geralt just shoots the shorter boy a look. After the armour is removed, Geralt lifts his shirt off of his body, tossing it to the ground beside his weapons. You’re admiring his body, looking at the scars littering his body. And he notices, watching you closely as he takes a few steps towards you, close. “Good luck kiss?” The corners of his lips turn up in a small smirk as he places his hands on your hips. His large hands pull you against his exposed chest, and you hate that he can hear your heart pick up along with your breath hitching.

“When have you ever needed luck?” You question him, your hands resting against his warm lower stomach. Gazing at his golden eyes, you give him a gentle smile.

Geralt admires you from up close, your kind smile, lovely lips, your beautiful eyes, “I don’t know... Jonah seems like a real catch,” he jokes sarcastically, “What if he steals you away from me?”

“Well,” you laugh lightly, placing a hand upon his rough cheek, “you’re just going to have to win the fight.” Leaning close to him, you close your eyes as you press a gentle kiss to his lips.

When you pull back, Geralt lets out a deep hum before he turns to the circle of watchers. Jonah stands in the middle, watching with an angry gaze, shirtless and relatively skinny except for the muscles on his forearms.

You stand beside Jaskier, who watches on casually. “Nervous?” You ask him.

He scoffs, playing along, “Yeah, what if Geralt meets his demise at the hands of a the fearsome Jonah?”

You chuckle, shaking your head admirably, “You better write a bloody good song after we take home the reward.”

“Trust me, I’m already up to the second verse!” Jaskier smiles, reciting, “Jonah lost the fight and we stood hip to hip / our beloved Witcher won the Velen championship!”

“Begin!” A man shouts, stepping from the circle and joining the small crowd that’s formed to watch Geralt and Jonah.

You exhale, watching Geralt’s clenched fists raised in front of his face. He’s waiting for Jonah to strike first. You know Geralt, you know his tactics. He’ll use Jonah’s first attack against him.

The smaller boy swings strong, aiming for Geralt’s throat, but the Witcher grabs his arm, pushing him down to the mud before upper-cutting his jaw. Standing, Geralt maintains his boxing stance as Jonah grunts in pain, still on the ground.

“What was that? 10 seconds?” Jaskier laughs, slapping his knee.

“Should’ve asked for more crowns.” You note, shaking your head in dismay. This is all too easy.

“Keep talking and we’ll have your tongue, girl!” One of the men shout, giving you a disgusting scowl as he hands golden coins over to the old match-maker, who then gives you a pile of money.

“What’s this?” You ask.

“People betted against your dear freak.” He answers with a glare before bending down to see if Jonah’s alright.

“Looks like that went well!” You raise your eyebrows sarcastically, hands on your hips as you smile.

Geralt leans against Roach, looking off as two men lift Jonah up. That was only the first contestant. The worst he has is bruises to his jaw and maybe a scrap on his knee where he hit the dirt. “We’ll ask for more coin next time.” Geralt tells you.

“That’s what I was saying,” you exclaim, turning to smile at Geralt, “This is too easy for you!”

“Next contestant,” the man shouts in disdain, “Stan Fishgulper!”

A look crosses your face. Leaning to Jaskier, you whisper, “Stan who?” You scoff, bursting into a small laughing fit with your friend.

“They’re going to cut your tongue out!” Jaskier whispers, in the midst of his own laugh as Geralt walks to the circle once again, “I can’t add that into a ballad!”

“Rather be mute than gulp fish,” you whisper to him, crossing your arms as another laugh wracks through your body.

Jaskier shoves your shoulder, shaking his head as he laughs along. In the ring, it’s all serious. Geralt eyes the middle aged man, sees the wrinkles along his face and the scars on his fingers as he balls his fists. Must be a fisher judging by the thin scars along them. Must’ve been one his whole life. His posture is hunched, possibly from staring at the water. He may have some strength in his arms then, though Geralt doubts he’ll strike first. He doesn’t seem the type to. Not overly confident.

Geralt lands a punch on Stans side, almost feeling sorry when the man jumps back and grunts in pain. But when Stan side steps and attempts to land a kick between Geralt’s legs, the monster-hunter no longer feels pity. He punches him in the cheek.

Grabbing the stunned man by his shoulders, Geralt uses all his force to knee him in the crotch. “I hope you’ve had your share of children already, my friend.” Geralt muses, pulling his hands from the man's shoulder and stepping back.

“Smithy!” The matchmaker calls, gesturing for another man to approach. Your smile fades when you see the size of this man. The tiniest bit shorter than Geralt but twice the size anyways. He walks slow, his feet trudging his weight to the middle of the circle beside Geralt.

Though, the Witcher doesn’t look afraid. He takes down fiends and basilisks for Christ’s sake. This, in front of him, is but a man. But you’re not sure. The man in front of him, Smithy, looks strong as hell. “Oh, fuck,” Jaskier breathes, “Now I feel bad for laughing....”

“You’ve got this, Wolf,” you call out, leaning against the sheep pens. Glancing at you, Geralt shoots a wink your way before turning his focus on Smithy.

Immediately, it’s horrid. You cringe, seeing Smithy grab Geralt by his shoulders and swing him across the pen, rolling through the mud. Geralt lands on his back, staring up into the sky with wide and shocked eyes. What the hell just happened? It was so quick, the Witcher barely got time to understand before Smithy pulled him up by his arm.

You and Jaskier, silent from the sides, eyes wide, barely even breathing at the sight in front of you. It can’t be. The Witcher can’t lose this battle. There’s no way. Geralt kicks Smithy in the stomach, pushing him back before raising his arms in defence of his face. The white haired mans footwork is quick, something that cannot be said for Smithy - whos main source of force is his strength.

Slinking around the tall man, Geralt lands a boot in the back of Smithys leg, sending the man falling to his knees slowly but surely. Jaskier gasps, seeing the fight change so drastically so quickly. He grabs your hand, excitement coursing through him. You grip his back, mouth hanging wide open as Geralt takes a few steps back, kicking Smithy in the throat. You grimace, and so does the crowd, as Smithy is winded - much like Geralt a few minutes prior.

Running up to the kneeled man from behind, Geralt lands a foot right on his back, sending the man falling forward. He coughs and sputters on the floor, struggling to stand. The bookie, reluctantly, calls it. And just like that, you and Jaskier are cheering loudly for your friend. “White wolf!” You shout, jumping up and down with Jaskier who whistles at Geralt.

The bookie raises Geralt's hand and the Witcher’s chest rises and falls steadily. His golden eyes come to rest on you as he is announced Champion and given his sum, and Geralt can’t help but grin. You and Jaskier cheer and clap as he makes his way toward you, tossing the coin to the bard. “Done. What now?” Geralt smirks cockily, making you and Jaskier laugh.

“First Velen,” Jaskier announces, his focus on the bag of coin - also filled with the numerous bets against Geralt - “Next: Skellige. Then the next country, then the next, until we rule all.”

“Good plan, Jaskier,” you nod at him before turning back to Geralt who is now dressing, “I think we can do it before the Wild Hunt catches us.”

Geralt chuckles deeply, giving you a smile before placing his swords back in their sheaths, “Funny. Right now, all I need is a shower.”

[buoyantsaturn]

I’m Cool to Watch Atlas Burn (1/?)

summary: Bianca's been having a lot of private conversations with Chiron. Nico won't hold anybody's hand but Will's. Will might be 13, but sometimes he still acts like he's 10.

chapter title: Bianca's Rescue Operation Goes Very Wrong

word count: 3,388

read on ao3 | read bring on the monsters

When Nico turned twelve, he decided that he was suddenly too old for hand holding. Sometimes Bianca would reach out for his hand as they climbed the stairs out of the Underworld, or even just on the walk between the dining pavilion and the Big House, but Nico would always snatch his hand away. He had led a quest across the country, he was training with the best warriors in Elysium (and Punishment, when Alecto wasn’t looking), and he was almost a teenager. He didn’t need to hold anybody’s hand.

Except that Will was already thirteen, and he still liked to hold Nico’s hand whenever he had the chance. If it was Will, it was okay. Best friends were different. And it just so happened that Nico’s best friend hadn’t let go of his hand since they left camp. 

They were heading north, the three of them packed into the backseat of Jules-Albert’s car. Nico wasn’t entirely sure where they were going - Chiron had given the message to Bianca, because she was older - but he knew they were on a “retrieval mission.” Whatever that meant. For the last hour, Will had practically been bouncing in his seat and tugging on Nico’s hand, babbling some over-excited nonsense. Nico was just surprised that Bianca hadn’t told him to shut up yet, but she’d been abnormally quiet for the last week or so, ever since Chiron had pulled her aside for some important discussion.

“It’s so cool that you have your own driver,” Will was saying for maybe the fifth time. “That’s, like, rich people stuff! Like, my mama doesn’t even have her own driver, and, I mean, she doesn’t say she’s rich, but she kind of is.” 

“Well, my dad is the god of riches,” Nico reminded him.

Will elbowed him. “Your dad’s the god of a lot of stuff.” 

Nico grinned. “Okay, Apollo spawn.”

“Can you please get him to stop calling me that?” Will asked with a pout.

“Seph calls you that sunshine boy,” Nico told him. “Is that better?” 

Will’s nose scrunched up. “I think just sunshine is good enough.”

“Okay, just sunshine.” 

“Gods, you’re the worst.” Will dug his elbow into Nico’s side with more force than before. “Anyway, how come you didn’t get this guy to drive you to Texas when I was at school last year? Maybe then you wouldn’t have spent the whole visit asleep.” 

“Dad said I had to get better at shadow traveling before he would give me a better mode of transportation,” Nico explained. “Jules is good for long distances when I need to keep my energy up, and he’s fast, but he’s not always fast enough, you know? So I had to know how to get somewhere quick without draining all my energy in case of an emergency.” 

Jules turned off the main road, and Bianca sat up straighter. She spoke up for the first time since leaving camp. “I think we’re here.”

“Okay,” Will said. “And where’s here?”

Nico leaned over Will to look out the window. It was difficult to see so late at night, but he’d trained his eyes to see better in the dark after spending so long in the Underworld. “Military school?” He turned back to his sister and grinned. “Bia, we’ve talked about this, you’re not getting rid of Will that easily.” 

Bianca huffed and folded her arms. “That’s not what we’re here for.”

“Are you going to tell us?” Nico demanded. 

“There’s a demigod here,” Bianca said. “Chiron got a message from one of the satyr scouts. She’s powerful, but undetermined, so Chiron thinks she might be a target for Beckendorf.” 

At the sound of his old friend’s name, Will’s gaze dropped to his feet. Nico squeezed his hand.

“We’re here to pick her up and take her to camp,” Bianca continued. “It should be quick and easy. Grover should be waiting for us inside, and he’ll take us to the demigod. We’ll sneak her back out, and we’re done.” 

“That’s it?” Nico asked with a frown. “Then what are we here for? That seems easy enough for just one person.” 

“I invited you for the company.” 

Will leaned around Nico to ask, “Then why am I here?” 

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Because you two are attached at the hip.” 

The car stopped. Jules stepped outside, moving around the car - faster than one might usually expect for a zombie - to open Bianca’s door. Before climbing out, she turned to the two boys and said, “Stay behind me, stay quiet, and don’t touch anything.” 

Jules waited outside while the demigods walked in through the front door. 

It didn’t take them long to find Grover - really, he found them. “Bianca?” he asked as he approached, and his eyes flickered toward Nico and Will. “I thought you were coming alone.” 

She shrugged one shoulder. “I brought backup. My brother, Nico, and his friend, Will.” 

Grover’s eyes widened. “Two Big Three kids? Oh, that’s no good. Um. Maybe you should go back outside and I’ll just find a way to bring Lou Ellen to you.” 

Bianca frowned. “We’re already here. What’s the problem?” 

Grover leaned forward and hissed, “Monsters.”

“I think we can deal with a couple of--” 

“Mr. Underwood,” a voice boomed from across the hall, and the four of them turned to face the man walking toward them. “You were not supposed to leave the gymnasium. And who are these others? Outsiders?”

Bianca raised one hand and snapped her fingers. Nico felt like the very atmosphere rippled away from her fingers, and he had to blink a few times to shake that feeling away. She told the man, “We go to school here.” Really, he should’ve easily been able to tell that she was lying, considering how much snow they’d tracked inside.

The man blinked, then said, “Yes, of course. Why have you all left the gymnasium?” 

“Bathroom,” Grover blurted, causing the man to raise a suspicious eyebrow. “We were all looking for the bathroom, and went through the wrong door. We’re going back right now.” 

The man hummed and nodded. “Yes, I’ll walk you back. Lead the way.” 

Grover started forward, so the demigods followed. They weren’t able to speak again until they had entered a crowded gymnasium, complete with gently flashing lights and too-loud music. Will made a noise of disgust, and Nico glanced at him in confusion. “School dances are the worst,” Will explained. 

Nico would have to take his word for it. 

The teacher that marched them into the gymnasium vanished as soon as they were inside, so Grover pulled them toward the corner to continue talking. 

“That was the monster!” he whispered - as much as he could over the music. 

Will frowned. “But he’s just a guy.” 

“You didn’t see that lady with the chimera,” Nico commented. “I thought she was just some lady, too.” 

“What is he?” Bianca asked. 

“I don’t know yet,” Grover replied, shaking his head, “but the smell...that’s undeniable. And there’s no doubt that he can smell you guys, too. Which is why we need to get out of here, and fast.”

“Right,” Bianca said with a single nod. “So, where’s our girl?” 

Grover pointed across the gym toward a set of bleachers. There was a group of boys playing cards, and a girl with dip-dyed purple hair amongst them. She seemed to be winning, if the noisy complaints from the boys were anything to go by. “Lou Ellen Blackstone. She has a crazy kind of control over the Mist, but nothing that tells me who her parent might be.”

“A minor god?” Bianca suggested.

Grover shrugged. “Maybe, but she’s the most powerful child of a minor god I’ve ever seen.” 

“We can figure that out later,” Nico told them. “How do we get her out of here without Mr. Monster catching us?” 

“Dr. Thorn,” Grover corrected.

Will replied, “Nah, I like Mr. Monster better.” 

“Ignore them,” Bianca said to Grover. “Nico and I can shadow travel. I think I should just grab her and make a jump. The Mist should cover up our disappearance.” 

“You’ve never jumped with another person before,” Nico reminded her. 

“I’ve jumped with you.” 

“No, I’ve jumped with you.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, you said--” 

Will waved an arm between them. “Okay, nobody’s shadow traveling with anybody. We’ll go out the old fashioned way. Grover, what’s the best escape route?” 

“Back out the way we came,” he answered. “Through the front door.” 

“That’s the best route?” Nico asked. 

“It’s the fastest.” 

“But we’ll be out in the open!” 

“Hey, shut up,” Bianca said suddenly, her eyes darting through the crowd. “She’s gone.” 

The three boys spun around to see what Bianca was looking at. The bleachers were still full of boys playing cards, though Lou Ellen was no longer with them.

“What do we do?” Will asked. “Split up and look for her?” 

Nico squeezed his hand with a, “No, no splitting up. We don’t know what Mr. Monster is, and I don’t want him to try to pick us off one by one.” 

Will’s grip on Nico’s hand tightened. “Uh, yeah, no. I don’t want that, either.” 

Without saying a word, Bianca pushed past them, leaving them no choice but to follow after her. She marched up to the boys on the bleachers and demanded to know where Lou Ellen had gone. 

“She went somewhere with Dr. Thorn,” one of the boys answered. 

“Which way did she go?” Bianca asked. 

The boy pointed across the gymnasium. One of the doors was still swinging shut. 

They took off at a run. Grover definitely wasn’t the fastest of the group - Nico thought it was pretty unlikely that he’d ever meet anybody faster than Will - but he was clearly pushing himself to lead the group outside onto a snowy cliff. 

They found Dr. Thorn about a hundred yards away from the school, far enough away that the lights didn’t reach him, so they could really only see shadows in the glow of the moon. Bianca already had her bow drawn with an arrow nocked by the time they heard a shout of, “Stop! Not one step closer!” 

They paused. Nico focused on the shadows, forcing himself to see more clearly after being among such blinding lights - he felt much more comfortable out here in the cold, the quiet, the dark, about to fight a monster instead of socializing with people his own age. He could make out the difference between Lou Ellen and Dr. Thorn. He had a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. His other hand had a small box that Nico couldn’t identify.

That was as far as he got before a projectile launched toward them. Nico tackled Will into the snow to get him out of its way. 

“Where did that come from?” Bianca called out. 

“Somewhere behind him,” Nico replied, jumping back to his feet and pulling Will up with him.

Dr. Thorn yelled to them, “Keep your distance, and I won’t have to kill you yet.” 

“Let Lou Ellen go, and we won’t have to kill you,” Bianca shot back as she pulled out her knife. “Yet.” 

“Bia,” Nico said softly. “Jump.” 

His sister nodded, and in the next second, she had disappeared. Then, Thorn was howling in pain, and Will ran forward. He managed to get a hold of Lou Ellen, and Nico could hear him reassuring her that everything would be alright. Nico was about to jump in and help his sister finish off the monster when Bianca was suddenly thrown aside. Nico didn’t even have the opportunity to move before Thorn dove toward Will and Lou Ellen, grabbing them both. 

Nico had his sword in his hand in a second.

The next few things that happened were so quick that even Nico couldn’t see it all through the dark. There was the deafening noise of giant fan blades and wind that almost knocked him off his feet - something mechanical was flying near the edge of the cliff, though it wasn’t an airplane, so Nico didn’t know what it was. He did know that they started firing guns in their direction. He hit the ground to avoid any stray bullets. 

Something caught Thorn’s shoulder, causing him to release Lou Ellen, but it wasn’t a bullet. Whatever it was came from the opposite direction, somewhere behind Nico. He was able to see Lou Ellen stagger toward Grover, who pulled her off to the side, away from the fight. Then Thorn started dragging Will toward the edge of the cliff, and that’s when Nico got back to his feet. He could risk a few bullet wounds in order to save his best friend from monstrous kidnapping. 

He ran about halfway, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to catch up, he jumped into the darkness and emerged with an arm outstretched, inches away from grabbing onto Will’s coat. Something silver flashed by the side of Nico’s head, lodging into Thorn’s body and knocking him off balance, over the edge of the cliff.

Will went with him, screaming Nico’s name. 

“Will!” Nico shouted back, scrambling to the cliff’s edge, but he couldn’t see anything down below. All he knew was that the giant flying fan blades were getting farther and farther away, and his best friend had been lost to the darkness. 

Nico was still screaming for his friend by the time Bianca pulled him back from the edge. “There’s nothing you can do for him right now, Nico,” she told him. “He’s not dead, so let’s just hope it stays that way. We’ll find him, after we get Lou Ellen to camp.” 

Nico let his sister pull him to his feet, then he brushed her off. “No, I’m not going back to camp. I’m going to find him.” 

Bianca grabbed his arm in a death grip. “No, you’re coming back to camp. You’re no use after a single jump, and we’re in the middle of nowhere. You’re lucky that Jules is still waiting for us, because you’d probably pass out just from summoning him.” 

Nico yanked his arm out of her grip, crossing his arms across his chest, though he continued to walk alongside her. They found Grover and Lou Ellen heading toward the light of the school. 

“Where’s Will?” Grover asked as soon as he could see them. Nico’s eyes narrowed into a glare, which he pointed at the ground. “Oh. Oh, no. Not another one…” 

“Another one?” Lou Ellen asked, eyes widening in fear.

“Don’t listen to him,” Bianca told her, drawing Lou’s full attention in her direction. “Lou Ellen Blackstone, right? My name is Bianca, and this is my brother, Nico. We’re going to take you someplace safe, alright?” 

“What was that thing?” she asked. “And what kept hitting him?” 

“We don’t know,” Bianca replied, “but I don’t want to stick around to find out. C’mon, we have a car--” 

“Hang on a second,” a new voice said, and four heads whipped toward the woods. A girl, maybe a year or so older than Bianca, stepped toward them, and as she entered the light, Nico saw at least ten other girls following behind her. They all wore the same silver jackets, though the girl up front had an extra ring of silver in her hair. “Nobody’s going anywhere before we get some answers.” She grinned straight at Nico. “Hiya. Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus, lieutenant of Artemis. I hear I have a couple new cousins.” 

Thalia explained the situation while the Hunters of Artemis - a group of girls all around Bianca’s age - set up camp, complete with silver tents and a few campfires. Lou Ellen was set up with Grover near one of the fires, with one of those silver jackets wrapped around her. Grover seemed to be explaining everything to her to the best of his ability.

Nico just wanted to get out there and find Will. 

He couldn’t even be excited about meeting the goddess of the hunt herself, only requesting that she let him hunt with her. She had refused, claiming that she didn’t hunt with the company of men, and then she ran off into the woods. 

Now, Nico sat with the name manticore burned into his brain, ready to raise hell in a literal sense if that’s what it took to get his best friend back. 

He sat inside one of the tents with Bianca and Thalia, drumming his fingers impatiently against his crossed arms. Thalia seemed ready for a nice, long chat, and if Nico didn’t feel quite so dizzy, he would’ve been out of there already. 

“Why don’t you two tell me what happened out there,” Thalia said after a short while, “before we showed up, at least.” 

“Chiron sent us here to pick up an unclaimed demigod,” Bianca explained, “but once we got outside, it was too dark for me to see much of anything. Nico has much better night vision than I do.” 

Thalia turned to him, and Nico heaved a heavy sigh. “That thing - the manticore - almost pulled Lou Ellen off the edge of the cliff. Then this...flying thing showed up and started shooting at us. Will pulled Lou Ellen away from the manticore, but it grabbed him and took him over the cliff.” He paused. “I almost had him… Just an inch more, and I would have had him…”

“Flying thing,” Thalia cut in. “What do you mean by that?”

Nico shrugged. “The loud, flying...thing! I don’t know, I’ve never seen one before.” 

“Oh,” she replied with a grin. “The helicopter.” 

Nico raised an eyebrow, and nodded his head slowly. “Sure, the...helicopter.” For the tenth time in as many minutes, Nico wished Will was there. He always managed to fill in the blanks in Nico’s sentences perfectly without making him feel like an idiot for not knowing about different things from the modern world. And he was much better at explaining that Nico and Bianca were - what was his phrasing? - misplaced in time. 

Thalia stretched her arms over her head. “Well, since Lady Artemis is hunting down the manticore, we really just need to wait around for a while. It shouldn’t take her that long, at least not to track him, but we’ve got plenty of time to relax. We can all rest here tonight, and then in the morning, we’ll head to Camp Half-Blood to wait out Artemis’s return.” 

“No,” Nico snapped. “We’re not waiting around. That thing took my best friend!”

Bianca set her hand on Nico’s arm, and he leaned away from the touch. “Nico, there’s nothing we can do right now.”

“We can try!” he shouted, his voice cracking near the end. Nico looked away and pulled his knees up to his chest. He was not about to start crying in front of a couple of girls. 

Bianca turned back to Thalia. “We’re going back to camp tonight. You can come with us, or you can meet us there later, but I won’t make Nico wait that long.” 

Thalia didn’t respond right away. It wasn’t until Nico looked up at her and saw her nodding that she said, “Okay. Give us a few minutes to pack up, and we’ll go with you. Bianca, would you mind helping out?” She stood, so the siblings got to their feet as well. “Sorry, Nico, but the other girls… They don’t work well with boys.” 

Nico crossed his arms with a huff. “I don’t want to hang out with a bunch of girls anyway.” 

Thalia grinned. She ruffled Nico’s hair as she passed him, telling him, “You’re even cuter than Percy, sometimes.” 

Before Nico could ask what that meant, Thalia stepped outside. 

Bianca took Nico by the shoulders, forcing him to face her, though he kept his gaze to the ground. “We’ll find him, Nico,” Bianca told him, and Nico’s eyes flickered upward. “First thing in the morning, we’ll talk to Chiron.” She waited until Nico nodded before continuing. “Go find Jules-Albert. We’re going to need a bigger car if we’re getting everybody back to camp.” 

Nico nodded again, and Bianca’s hands fell away from his shoulders. She started to leave, but Nico caught her with one hand wrapping around her own. 

He held his sister’s hand as they left the tent together.

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