#marvel x trader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

assortedseaglass · 28 days

Text

Borne & Bound - VI

[Masterlist]

Aemond Targaryen x OFC

(Mr Darcy!Aemond x Shieldmaiden!OFC)

Story Content: (This chapter in bold): Strong Language, Violence, Slow Burn, Smut, Canon-typical Sexism, Mentions of Incest¸ Mentions of Sexual Assault

Word Count: 6.6K

Notes: So, it’s been a few months…highly recommend reading the last chapter because I imagine everyone’s forgotten the plot. I nearly had.

I am so out of practice and this is not my finest – I read work of my friends here and marvel at the talent they possess. That you indulge my writing is a real honour, and reading your words is no longer intimidating but inspiring.

This was written for me to get back into the swing of things, and whether one or one hundred people read it, I am happy to be back.

The cold whipped Aemond’s face, harsh and blistering. Ice from the gathering storms clouds nicked his marble skin and the burn of the exposed air on his flesh hummed.

Any trace of anger, of anxiety or of rage had faded away. Amongst the clouds, high above the city, Aemond was utterly free. Free from what, he wasn’t entirely sure, but as he flew atop Vhagar’s scaled back he felt a peace the like of which he had never known.

For what felt like hours, the pair tumbled through dense cloud and bright sunburst in one endless day of freedom. He had no sense of duty, no eagerness to return to the Keep, no burden of family. Even Vhagar beneath him felt light and somehow far away. Still, she held him aloft in the sky, the steady beat of her wings taking them on, on, on.

After hours, or what could have been days, Vhagar descended below the clouds, and King’s Landing came into view. Beneath them, the waxy leaves of the Kingswood’s canopy gleamed. Aemond could just make out the world waking; the flight of birds from the trees, fires smoking from the townsfolks’ homes, a few traders making their way into the world to collect and sell their wares.

A lone rider cut a steady path along the woodland’s edge. Aemond watched a while as Vhagar’s enormous shadow followed behind them. The mane of the black horse rippled as it galloped, and even from Aemond’s position high in the sky, he could hear the thunder of its hooves.

Then, a great bell-like laugh rose into the air, pealing all around Aemond. Just as he felt, the sound was free. It warmed the very heart of him. On and on the gleeful rider laughed and Aemond found himself smiling in spite of himself. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest and beneath him, he felt Vhagar murmur too. With a gentle roll of her body, the great she-dragon leant into the wind and Aemond saw the black horse’s rider at last.

Strands of dark hair billowed in the wind, as did robes of burgundy, bronze and deepest blue. As he was with Vhagar, the rider was effortlessly attuned to their steed, moving gracefully across every furrow of the land. Another tinkle of laughter took flight into the air and Aemond leant forwards over Vhagar’s side. He reached out, as if trying to touch the rider. Vhagar’s flight was dangerously close to the ground now, and just as Aemond’s leather-covered fingertips skirted the edge of the rider’s robes, they turned over their shoulder to look up at him.

Her bonny face was flushed red, mud spattered across her cheeks, no doubt kicked up from the hooves of the immense horse. The dark hair that so exquisitely matched that of her steed still whipped about her face, but through it Aemond could make out the brilliant flash of a smile. Mischievous, wicked, taunting.

It was as though she had sunk her teeth into him with that smile. At once, the heat that filled his veins turned to ice. Vhagar’s great bulk vanished beneath him, and he fell, watching the girl laughing at him as he disappeared through the earth.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” Aemond barely heard the maid’s timid voice as he sat bolt upright in his bed. The girl stood by the windows of the chamber, a plate of fresh fruit in her hands, watching him.

Unruly blond hair swept in long strands in front of darkened his face. His naked chest, muscular and coated in a sheen of sweat, rose and fell heavily as he regained his ragged breath. One eye, unblinking and icy, stared forward, bright beneath his angry brow. The absence of the other made her shiver. She placed the plate of fruit on a table beside the window and stepped forward.

Aemond still did nothing but stare ahead of him. The gossamer curtains shrouding his bed rippled gently in the breeze from the open window. He looked straight through them, remembering the black hair of the horsemaiden and her steed.

“Your Grace?” The girl said again. A nightmare. She’d woken him from a nightmare, that was all. Or perhaps a dream. Maybe that was why he was angry. “I’ve brought breakfast, Your Grace.”

“Get out.”

Her steps faltered. Through the sweep of golden hair and fluttering fabric, she barely heard him.

“Pardon, Your Grace?” Her voice quavered, fear creeping into the words. Prince Aemond was a haunting man, that was true. The way he appeared like a spectre, his leathered boots having made no sound on the stone floors of the Keep. His unfeeling eyes, ever watching and unblinking. She had heard rumour of his fits of anger at the other servants. Still, in the ten months she had worked at the Keep, bringing food to him in the morning and lighting the fires, he had never raised his voice at her. Not yet at least.

Aemond’s hand balled into fists, the sheet beneath him crumpling. The girl stepped back. He was shaking. “Get. Out.”

“My Prince-”

“GET OUT!” The dragon within fired into life. Aemond stood abruptly, tearing at the bed’s curtains as he did so. With a squeal, and averting her eyes from the Prince’s near naked form, the maid tore from the room.

From beyond his chamber door, Aemond could hear her hurried footsteps and the shocked gasps of the Keep’s early risers. He was used it. On any other day, they did it to his face. Storming across the room, he dressed hurriedly in his riding leathers, shoved his eyepatch aggressively over his head and made to leave the room.

How dare she, the shit-shovelling little horse-wench. From the moment she arrived he’d known nothing but her condescension and disdain. Now, even in dreams, he couldn’t escape her.

Smoothing his hair beneath the leather, Aemond passed by his dresser, pocketing his dagger in its sheath at his belt and donning his great coat. Then, struck by the stranger staring back at him from the mirror, he paused.

Wisps of blond hair stuck out from his head like spun sugar. The skin around his brow was pink from where he’d roughly donned is eyepatch. The eye that stared back at him was wild, dark despite its violet hue and ringed by purple. The usual glow of his marble skin was gone, replaced by a dull grey. Even in dreams, he couldn’t escape her. He leant against the wood and inhaled deeply.

What in the seven hells had caused this great animosity? She wasn’t the first person to mock him, nor would she be the last. And he’d met plenty a noble from far off lands as they passed through the kingdom, never to be seen again. True, he had been less than welcoming. But hadn’t he tried? Asked about her kingdom, taken her letter to the rookery. He sighed. His efforts were less than poor.

Again he smoothed his hair and straightened. After his ride with Vhagar he would, once more, try to make amends. Besides, what better way to get the upper hand of the Braedel girl than with cordial superiority. The day was set. A smirk tugging at his lips, he left his chambers and the night’s awful dream behind.

He should have known better. Were the week’s recent events not proof that while the Keep was upside down with the council and its attendees, his plans would always be dashed. No sooner had he turned left from his chambers did the young prince encounter a small Braedel delegation. A few of the calvary’s riders, and none other than the enormous Ser Herumbrand.

The knight bowed slowly to the prince, as did the other Braedels, and allowed Aemond to pass. It was as they passed each other that Herumbrand and Aemond locked eyes. The knight’s mouth did not move, but something in the twinkle of his grey eyes told Aemond that deep down he was smiling.

“She had you ratted there, son.”

Herumbrand’s last words to Aemond instantly ran through his mind. As did the humiliation of his spar with the woman from his dream.

“Ser.” Aemond said flatly, turning on his booted heel to face the knight.

“Your Grace?” The three Braedels halted and watched the prince.

“Lady Geowyth, where is she?” Best to avoid her until he had a sure plan of action that would not result in further hostility.

Ser Herumbrand waited a moment before answering. He seemed to be assessing the man before him. Aemond let him, his eye never wavering.

“With her brother, I believe, as he prepares to return to Braedel.”

A flicker of annoyance befell Aemond’s eye. “Forgive me, Ser.” He took a step forward. “‘As he prepares to return?’”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Herumbrand smiled broadly. “Lord Geodred will return to Braedel for his wedding. Lady Geowyth is to stay as the Princess’ lady-in-waiting for a time.”

With nought but a rumbled hmph, Aemond turned on his heel and stormed down the corridor. Maids and grooms parted with bowed heads at his coming and he ignored each one. Beyond the Keep the skies were blackening. He would ride Vhagar later. Deep with in the chasm of his chest he felt her settle towards slumber. She knew he would come for her by day’s end. Flying through the storm clouds was what she loved best. Better to let the clouds gather so they could really relish their time together.

Instead of making his way to Vhagar’s rocky outcrop as he had planned, Aemond treaded the well-worn stone towards the training yard, every step remembering the parries and attacks Geowyth dealt him during their spar. The way she exhausted herself trying to prove she could keep up with him, a man. He could almost feel the gentle press of the dagger she’d held at his ribs, and see the self-satisfied smile she wore when he realised its presence. And now she was to stay.

There could only be one person so scheming. Only one whose machinations would permit the young horse-maid to stay. And so it was that Aemond, on his way to sharpen his swordsmanship, burst through the ornate oaken doors that led to the queen’s ballroom.

“MOTHER!”

On the other side of the Keep, in the guest quarters, Geowyth watched with undisguised agitation as her brother and a few groomsmen packed his belongings into various trunks and bags.

From her position on the bed, she could see that he was anxious to get back to Braedel, and just as anxious to leave.

“I don’t see why you must go so soon if eam (uncle) is not so unwell. Did you not say that if he were, you would send for me? Why not take me with you?”

Geodred sighed, not looking at her as he tidied away the small writing desk covered with his studies of the mainland. “Don’t be childish.”

“I’m not being child-”

“Then trust me and stop with your pettiness,” Geowyth huffed and he ignored her. “He isn’t so unwell. Not more than when we left him, and I will send for you the moment he so much as coughs. But I am to be married, remember sweostor (sister). I may not be a husband yet, but I owe it to Folchild to prove what kind of man I will be. Thus far she has been stuck on Braedel with a sickly cynge (king), a fussing mother and a conniving father, all the while preparing singlehandedly for our marriage.”

Damn him for being so kind-hearted, Geowyth thought. Still, she couldn’t help digging in her heels and making him feel her annoyance at his abandonment. He was her brother after all.

“I wonder what sort of wife Folchild will be?” she said innocently. Geodred hummed to signify that even if his hands were busy, he was indeed listening. “When she first came to Braedel I, like you, was dazzled by her beauty. But what have we learnt of her since then?”

“I have learnt a great deal,”

She ignored him. “I cannot claim that I know her as a sister well enough to give my good opinion, but she makes you happy and that I suppose will have to do.”

“Geowyth,”

“Do you know, eam’s last letter said she has become more reserved with every visit to Braedel since we came here. No doubt your arrival home will cheer her. I’ve seen the way the women here look at you, maeg (brother). You should have come to the mainland to find a wife first. Imagine the noble ladies you could have claimed! I’ve seen even the queen giving you the once over when she thinks no-one is looking-”

“Geowyth,” Geodred said warningly.

“You could have inherited another title! Instead you get, as you say, a fussing mother-in-law and a conniving new father. No doubt he heard of eam’s ill health and descended on him like a vulture, throwing the only thing that Stanas Isle has of worth at you; Folchild herself.”

Geodred suddenly dropped the volumes of books in his hands upon the desk and interrupted her at last. In three silent strides he was at the chamber door, whispering something to one of the Keep’s servants. When he said nothing, Geowyth continued. She knew he was getting annoyed at her now, yet she couldn’t help it. It was like scratching an itch.

“And now you are to leave me here,” she said dramatically, disguising the fact that she was still hurt by this. “Drop your duty to the kingdom for duty of another kind.”

“Duty is duty, sweostor,” How could he still be so composed?

“If you say so. But I was under the impression we were sent here to make alliances and do right by Braedel. Instead, you are hurrying home so you may put your end in as soon as possi-”

“ENOUGH!” Geodred slammed his hand on the wooden poster of the bed. Geowyth flinched. “Enough.” He ran a hand over his handsome face and looked down at her. “I have done my duty here. I have impressed the king and, more importantly, the queen, for we know full well it is she running the order of things. I have made friends with the princes and demonstrated the value of our considerable calvary. And now I must return to strengthen other alliances.”

Geowyth opened her mouth to retort.

“Yes, Geowyth. I am well aware that my marriage to Folchild is to strengthen bonds with Stanas Isle and keep her father on our side. But have you stopped to think that perhaps I may love her too? Have you stopped to think at all?”

“Geodred, I-”

“If you spent your mornings with the other visiting young ladies, rather than gallivanting with Mearl, which you can do any day at home, you might understand. If you listened and learnt from our hosts rather than stirring up gossip as you did at the feast, you might understand. If you stopped of flirting with the princes and making a fool of yourself in the training yard-”

“I am not flirting!” Geowyth shouted, feeling flushed and sick in equal measure.

“-THEN YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND!” Geodred roared over her. “You are staying here because eam sees that you are a liability to our kingdom.”

Geowyth flinched like he had struck her. She needed to hear it while she was hurt, there was no other way.

“You have charmed the princess, true, but you have ruffled feathers also. How in the name of all above and below do you expect to command the renward (cavalry) when I am king? How can you expect us to trust you?” Geowyth’s eyes were watering an Geodred’s heart broke. With a shaking voice he continued. “You are hot-headed, quick to temper and to judge. We would be at war the moment you struck out on your first charge. You must learn! And staying at the keep will ensure this.”

“Geodred, please-”

“I mean it, Geowyth. The day that eam passes is growing ever closer, and I cannot afford to have such a wayward leader take my place. It is about time you realised your duty.”

“Lord Geodred,” Geodred’s head snapped to the door. Ser Herumbrand loomed in the doorway, bedecked in ceremonial battle dress. “The horses are ready.”

Geodred nodded. Herumbrand cast his eyes over the siblings. Geodred, red-faced, a little tiredness eking onto his face. Geowyth knelt on the bed with her head bowed, her face hidden by her curtain of hair but not containing her sniffles. Herumbrand left the pair as Geodred places both his hands on his sister’s shoulders.

“Come, we are away.”

“Stand up straight,”

“I am,”

“Straighter then. Our guests, your guests-”

“Father’s guests.”

“-our guests our leaving.” For the second time that week, Aemond stood on the barbican steps in the heat of the afternoon, listening to his mother and brother bicker.

All the royal family were in attendance this time. His mother, beautiful in the green of her house, auburn hair dancing in the gentle breeze, stood proud at the centre of the steps, watching with interest as the Braedel cavalry jostled with excitement; the horses eager to be on the road, their riders ready for home. Aegon looked surprisingly clean and well slept. The dark circles around his eyes were still present, and it was clear to all that he was still drunk from the night before, but he looked handsome nonetheless. Like their mother, he wore green, though darker than hers, and Aemond thought that while he might not quite pass for a prince of the realm, there was no denying his nobility.

Aemond tried not to look at his father. A crumpled heap of cloth and sallow skin had been propped up in a chair beside the eldest prince. His mouth hung open slightly, the gold mask covering his face flashing in the sun and agitating some of the horses. He could barely hold his head up to look his guests in the eye.

Only Helaena was not stood with them. The best of them, she had ventured into the crowd of warrior men and women to stand at Lady Geowyth’s side. Ser Herumbrand and a few older members of the renward watched with jovial smiles as Geowyth introduced the princess to her immense horse.

Aemond stilled with taut anticipation as Lady Geowyth took Helaena’s hand and moved it to the horse’s thick neck. Beside him, his mother shuffled on her feet. Both watched nervously. Helaena’s head was turned awkwardly away from the animal, as though trying to put some distance between herself and the horse. Lady Geowyth brushed her own dark hair from her face and whispered in Helaena’s ear. She looked just the same as when Aemond first saw her. Dark hair long and unkempt, amber eyes watchful. Her face too was just as flushed, though Aemond had put that down to her long days’ ride. Today, her cheeks were blotchy, as though she’d been crying.

It would take a fool not to see how she and Helaena complimented each other; Helaena in her light blue and gold silks, Geowyth in her dark blue and burgundy velvet. Helaena’s golden hair and Geowyth’s black. Helaena flighty and faraway, Geowyth earth-bound. When Helaena still retreated from Geowyth’s mount, the shieldmaiden took her hand and gently placed a kiss on it, murmuring something once more. Even from where he stood, Aemond could see that a small smile was playing upon Helaena’s face. Nodding at whatever Geowyth had said, Helaena allowed her to move her hand back towards the horse’s muscled neck and run it along the smooth hair there.

Aemond heard his mother exhale. He turned is good eye towards her and she smiled, proud and relieved. The corners of his mouth twitched and he turned back to the women. Geowyth had produced a shining red apple from her skirt pocket and given it to the princess. Helaena tentatively held it up for Mearl to sniff. When his bristled nose brushed her hand, Helaena giggled, and even jumped a little with glee when he began to eat it.

If it pleased his sister, Aemond supposed there was at least one good reason for Lady Geowyth to stay.

“Geowyth, astandan (come).” Geodred was standing before the king and called his sister back to her temporary position in the royal household.

“Helaena,” Alicent called gently. The two came at once. Helaena near gliding across the barbican, Geowyth following dutifully in her wake. Her role as lady-in-waiting had begun. She bowed before the king and queen when she reached the steps upon which they stood, then settled behind Helaena, now nestled between her brothers. All in the barbican and on the steps watched as Geodred approached the royals, Ser Herumbrand a step behind him.

A ripple of pride ran through the renward when their leader dropped to his knees before Viserys, so that the king may look upon him. Taking is frail hand, Geodred kissed his knuckles then covered it with his own.

“My King,” he began gently so only those closest to him could hear. “A thousand thanks for your hospitality this last week, and a thousand more for your council. I have learnt more than you can know. I shan’t forget this kindness.”

At his words, Viserys leant forward. A small gasp escaped Alicent’s lips and Ser Harrold stepped forward, ready to catch the king should he fall. Viserys raised a hand to quell them, and Geodred bowed his head closer to the king’s. This time, none could hear the whisper that passed between them, but when the king was finished, Geodred stood and bowed his head. Herumbrand followed suit, then clasped the hand of Ser Harrold in friendship.

The rest of Geodred’s goodbyes were easy. The queen beamed at him as he made his farewells and thanked her for allowing his sister to stay. All looked at Geowyth, but still her head was reverently bowed. After bowing to Aegon, Geodred patted the prince on the shoulder jovially. Heir to heir, young man to young man.

His deepest bow was bestowed upon Helaena. “Good princess, I shall not speak for my sister, but will say this. I am certain your friendship will do more for our kingdom than our cavalry or your protection.” Watching her eyes to make sure she understood, Geodred took her hand in his. He did not kiss it but held it a mere moment before letting go.

“Prince Aemond,” Geodred nodded and Geowyth, glancing up, noticed that Aemond did the same. He was the only who had. “My deepest thanks for your tutelage. Were it not for your direction, I would not have known where to begin. I only wish I could know more-”

Aemond hummed in gratitude. A warm, gentle noise. Helaena turned to look happily at her little brother, and Geowyth wondered if this sweet sound was usually reserved just for her.

“-and if you ever want to try your tongue at Braehic, or find yourself flying west, please do visit. We have plenty of land for your Vhagar, and livestock too.”

“Thank you, Ser.” Aemond held out his gloved hand and, without hesitation or worry for etiquette, Geodred grasped it in his with a broad smile. It was only then, when he’d addressed all the royals, did Geodred make his way back along the line. Helaena had already stepped sideways towards her brother-husband to reveal Geowyth.

She was looking up now, waiting for him to address her. She was the lady-in-waiting of a princess, and he a visitor of the family. In this setting he was no longer just her brother. He outranked her, and then some. Geodred sighed and stepped forward. Helaena turned away, pushing Aegon towards their parents. Aemond too bowed his head, but he could’t help but listen.

When Geodred took Geowyth’s hands, it was only then she felt able to speak.

“What did the king say?” Her voice was hoarse and quiet.

“I cannot tell,” he said solemnly, looking at her hawk-like eyes. They were not so bright as usual, their argument having dulled their colour. Pain welled in his chest and he took her face in his hands. It was just them now. Geowyth, he and their uncle Galan.

“I sorry, Geowyth,” he whispered. Aemond’s ears pricked with intrigue.

“You were right to say it,” Geowyth whispered, her voice wobbling. Say what? Geodred sighed again.

“Beon til, beon waeren (be good, be dutiful). I will send for you when the time comes.” Geowyth nodded fervently as she attempted to keep her tears at bay. “Deos forhtlic (who’s afraid)?” Geodred brought his forehead to his sister’s.

“Not I,” she said firmly. They paused a moment, their foreheads pressed together, savouring the feeling. This was the moment everything would change. Their next meeting would be the dawn of Galan’s death, and Geodred’s ascension. Who would take from them this last moment of normality?

With a swift kiss of his sister’s cheek, Geodred hurried down the steps towards his mount. Hurried, so he didn’t change his mind and drag her back to Braedel with him. Aemond watched as Ser Herumbrand fleetingly placed his forehead against Geowyth’s too. It was surely some Braedel tradition. He imagined pressing his forehead to Ser Harrold’s. He let out a sharp laugh and all but his father looked at him.

“Renward,” Geowyth called from atop his mount. Ser Herumbrand mounted his own horse beside him and placed the helmet adorned with horsehair atop is head. Just as when they had arrived, the Braedel cavalry displayed their kinship with the horses that gave them their name. This time though, Aemond did not scoff. Owing to his growing fondness of Lord Geodred, he found it admirable of the small island kingdom. Just as Geodred tired to learn about the ways of the mainland, Aemond found himself wanting to know more about Braedel.

A great clatter of metal and horses’ hooves echoed across the stone walls of the barbican; the delegation from Braedel had begun their slow journey home. At Aemond’s side, Helaena shuffled to stand beside Geowyth, holding her hand tightly. Tears were gathering in Geowyth’s eyes, her jaw set as her lips trembled.

It was as Aemond looked from Helaena and Geowyth’s entwined hands to the latter’s eyes that she looked at him. Wild and childlike in her sadness, the amber of them shocked him, as they had done the first time he saw her. He looked away quickly and instead caught the eye of his mother. She smiled knowingly and he tutted.

“Geowyth,” Helaena’s sweet voice was tender with concern. “You may have today as your own. Go, now.”

Geowyth hesitated. She cast her eyes towards her retreating house then, at Helaena’s insistence, curtsied to the royal family and made her way up the steps and into the comfort of the Keep.

“Aemond.” It was Helaena, speaking lowly to him.

“Helaena,” he smiled softly at her.

“I think you should have the day as your own too. You have not been of sorts. Perhaps the three of us could ride later?” Aegon looked briefly over his sister-wife’s head at his brother and shrugged noncommittally.

“If you insist,”

“I do,” Helaena smiled as the rest of the royal household made their way inside, the thunder of the calvary now a mere rumble.

Peace at last.

Aemond daredn’t say no to Helaena, certainly not when she had commanded him to take the day as his own. Not even their mother could refuse. She was so frequently flustered by her daughter’s odd pronouncements that she found saying anything to her a difficulty.

Still flushed with happiness at Geodred’s assessment for him, Aemond strode through the Keep with renewed vigour. After Helaena, the relative stranger from Braedel was the only person to see him as he felt. As he was.

Buoyed by the praise, Aemond made for one of the Keep’s many libraries. There were plenty to choose from. The large one favoured by his father, full of old tales and dusty tomes. The bright and airy one that his mother and sister frequented in the royal apartments. The myriad of others scattered across different floors and corridors. Today, before heading towards the outskirts of the city where Vhagar rested, Aemond made his solitary way towards his favourite since he was a boy. Where he came to hide from his brother and nephews after a day of merciless teasing.

Tucked between White Sword Tower and the goldcloaks’ barracks, the small study that was Aemond’s preference looked out over Blackwater Bay. It was midday now and Aemond imagined the water lapping at the city’s walls below the window he favoured sitting in.

No-one else came here. Not the white or goldcloaks as they were always too busy. His family stayed in the royal apartments and guests had their own library in the west of the Keep. It would be silent except for the gulls over the bay and the breeze through the window. Trays of confectionary will have been restocked by the maids, the windows opened to air the old books, golden light flowing in from the sun beyond. All Aemond needed to relax. It was also one of the few libraries he had not looked for knowledge of Braedel. Perhaps one of the guards had family from the small island and kept volumes of its history in there as a nostalgic reminder of home. Or maybe a Maester had produced a long-forgotten biography of the kingdom that no-one thought of interest enough to keep in the main library’s stores.

Whatever the reason he had not checked, Aemond all but bounded (as much as princes are allowed to bound) towards the small door at the top of the ill-used spiral staircase. A few goldcloaks bowed to him as he passed and, feeling that normality had returned to the Keep, Aemond threw open the door to his secret hideaway.

A chair screeched across the stone floor and clattered to the ground with a loud thunk.

The curtains were indeed open. The confectionary had been refilled, and Aemond could see that beyond the window seagulls were soaring and the water glistened. But before the window, in what would have been his usual seat, stood Lady Geowyth.

Her eyes were wide with shock but rimmed with red and shining brightly. She’d been crying. She stood frozen for a while, a mixture of horror and shame playing across her pale face.

A flash of recognition lit behind Aemond’s eye. He had seen this expression before. Minus the tears, she had looked just the same when she startled him in the royal library. The repetition of this event made him chuckle, almost imperceptibly. The noise seemed to remind Geowyth of where she was, and she hastily dropped into a low curtsey.

“Your Grace.” Aemond watched as she wiped her face with her sleeve and turned to the window. The chair she was sat in had overturned in her shock, and she bent to pick it up. Aemond’s eye followed the swoop of her frizzy hair as it fell towards the floor. The action exposed the back of her neck, and the midday sun on her pale skin glowed. It was almost Targaryen in its brilliance. He cleared his throat and moved forward awkwardly.

“Let me,” he reached one hand out for the chair and swiftly righted it. He was certain she could have done it herself, and he was still unsure of his feelings towards her. Whether indifference, curiosity or dislike, he had been raised a prince. Decorum, chivalry and honour above all.

Geowyth sniffled a quiet “thank you” and picked up the book upon the windowsill. Aemond read the spine. Philosophies on the Flora and Fauna of the Crownlands.

“This is one of Helaena’s favourites,” His voice was a little flat, a little stunted, but it was a start.

“Yes,” Geowyth sniffed again. “Forgive me,” and she wiped her nose once more. Aemond looked away. How are you meant offer comfort but also give privacy? His mind raced and he tried to think of what to say. The wrong thing might ignite her sarcasm, as anything he uttered seem to do. He might even offend her, as he had done on occasion. And he certainly didn’t want to make her cry more, what on earth would he do then?

As Aemond fretted over his next move, Geowyth watched him. Through her tear-blurred eyes, she watched him awkwardly look around at the books. He had removed his leather gloves, and they creaked as he wrung them behind his back. The eye that so often piercingly surveyed her was almost purple in the sunlight, and softer that she had ever seen it. After their last encounter in the training yard, Geowyth half expected Aemond to want her head. In his stead, she found a somewhat lost and, dare she say it, shy young prince.

“Here,” his voice broke her from her thoughts. Aemond’s pale hand took another book from the shelves and handed it to her cautiously, as though she would bite if he moved too fast. Geowyth looked down at the book’s green cover. Gold leaves were embossed on the fabric and she ran her hand over it.

“Eseld’s Apohtic,” Geowyth said lowly.

“It’s another of Helaena’s favourites.” His tone was blunt, but not so cold as how he usually spoke to her. Geowyth looked at him. He was watching her intently, eye shifting occasionally as though embarrassed.

“Thank you,” though Geowyth’s voice was still small from crying, something of herself began to return. She took the two books in hand, sniffled once more and then stood to her full height. Enough of this wallowing. She looked back to Aemond. “I’ll leave you know, Your Grace. It is clear you were hoping to find this study unoccupied.”

Aemond opened his mouth to speak, faltered, then shut it again. Offering a small smile, Geowyth curtsied and made for the door. As she passed him, Aemond caught the scent of pine and rosemary in her hair and, just as she reached the door, he spoke.

“My lady,” his voice was desperate and he cringed. Geowyth half turned to face him, and he could see just how flushed she had become from crying as the windowlight hit her face.

“Your Grace?” Despite her sadness, and the unhidden resentment the two shared for each other, something about her calm patience as he fumbled with politeness soothed him. Suddenly, he saw a glimmer of what Helaena so loved about her.

“I came here in search of books on Braedel. It is one of the few places I hadn’t looked-”

A smirk quirked the lady’s lips. “You have been looking?”

Damn. “Your brother talked so highly of home, and I cannot deny your language and customs intrigue me,” he flushed. How common of him to admit to something so indecent as curiosity. “I thought, perhaps, well. I would like to learn more.”

Geowyth watched him a moment, and Aemond wracked his brain for what he could have possibly said to offend her.

“All you have to do is ask, Your Grace.”

Aemond’s eye flickered to Geowyth’s. Mirth, or maybe even kindness, was shining in them now. He swallowed. It was the expression she had worn in his dream.

“But if you are so determined to learn from your books,” she pointed to a shelf by the unlit hearth. “May I recommend Grennan’s Compendium of Republic Realms? I believe my uncle wrote the introduction-” Geowyth’s voice tailed away. She had suddenly remembered the missive her uncle wrote the day before.

“The heir apparent you say is a wastrel but bonny fellow, and Geodred tells me that Prince Aemond has been giving him private tutelage in mainland history. List me two more of their virtues with your next letter.”

She looked at the books around her, the one Aemond now reached for and the two in her hand. Helaena’s favourites. “You care for Helaena very much.”

Aemond looked at her curiously. “Yes,” he said, as though it were obvious. “Only a little more than you, I dare say,” he added with sarcasm.

Geowyth laughed that hearty laugh she shared with her brother. Aemond’s breath caught in his throat; he had almost smiled at the sound.

“I doubt even one so plainly open as I could care for someone the way you care for her.”

Aemond clasped his hands behind his back and smirked. “Perhaps it is the one thing we have in common.” He watched as Geowyth relaxed against the door. This isn’t too difficult, he thought. Perhaps he possessed some of his family’s charm after all.

“Helaena and sparring, how contrary we are.” Geowyth too could hardly believe the ease their conversation had found. This gentle teasing and care of his family; maybe she had misjudged him.

“I would hardly call it sparring,” Aemond said, his tone more confident now. “Batting your lashes and holding a dagger to my ribs? That move has been used more often in the street of silk than it has in the training yard.”

A potent silence fell between them.

Aemond knew at once he had said the wrong thing. Geowyth’s eagle eyes hardened and an electricity seemed to bristle around her.

“Well, I maybe be as common as a whore in your eyes, Your Grace,” she spat his title viciously as she whipped her dark hair over her shoulder and opened the door. “But last we met it was you who was flat on their back.” No sooner had Aemond begun to retort had the study door slammed, Geowyth’s angry footsteps echoing down the staircase beyond.

“She had you ratted there, son.”

Aemond ripped of his eyepatch and jammed his hands into his eyes with an angry growl. Throwing Grennan’s Compendium of Republic Realms across the study, Aemond too strode from the study, not caring whether he encountered the lady on the stairs. He’d push her down the rest of them for all he cared.

Hours later, as he and Vhagar flew above the Crownlands, Aemond watched a lone stallion thundering across its grassy plains. Air-borne and earth-bound, the riders rode their mounts ferociously, testing them to their limits. It was as Aemond and Vhagar tumbled from the sky, flying perilously, exhilaratingly, exquisitely close to the ground, did the rider look up at him. With fierce determination, Lady Geowyth kicked her heels at Mearl’s side and tore away from the dragon.

From high above them, sat upon a rocky ridge, Helaena and Dreamfyre watched.

Note: The next chapter will have Sexual TensionTM, I promise!

Tags: @arcielee @mefools @bladeofdreadfort @glitterandgoldfinds @heimtathurs @ewanmitchellcrumbs @babyblue711 @wingeddeliciouscanonrebel @greenowlfactif @fantasias-creativebubble @httyd-marauders @sirenangelroyal* @theoneeyedprince @fyeahhotdfics* @persephonerinyes @humanpurposes @exitpursuedbyavulcan @elizarbell @el-is-green @booghostii @myfandomprompts @castellomargot @trashcanrat @boundlessfantasy @aemonds-fire @barbieaemond @bookwyrmsblog @herfantasyworldd @unheardnerd @targaryenrealnessdarling @chattylurker

*unable to tag

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond kinslayer #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #ewan mitchell x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #borne and bound #geowyth beridan #hotd fanfic #assortedseaglass

84 notes · View notes

alina-dixon · 9 months

Text

A Fable

Pairing: Morpheus x Male reader

Warnings: violence, blood, captivity, fluff.

Requested: Yes / No

Part 1

A/N: The reader is the Hero from Fable 2! I really love the game Fable 2! So I thought why not? Have fun reading!☺️❤️

___

It's a cold winter day in Bowerstone, you and your Sister Rose are standing at a fireplace. You and Rose are homeless. You are only nine years old and your sister is fifteen. You were just trying to get warm, when suddenly something fell on your head and when you touched it you immediately knew it was bird poop! Your eyes went wide and tried to get rid of it while making a disgusted sound.

Rose looked weirdly at you while having her arms around her body to stay warm. “What was that? Oh! Yuck.” she said while taking a step back. When you stopped she put her arms back around her and so do you with yourself. “Well… That’s lucky. Like finding a four-leave clover. Although I think I'd prefer the clover.” her voice sounded a little awkward when saying that.

Then she looked at the castle amazed that stood in the center of Brightwood. “Look. little Sparrow…Castle Fairfax looks so nice in the snow. Imagine the grand dining hall. I bet Lord Lucien’s having roasted duck at this time of the year.” She ranted while you just kept quiet while putting your hands over the fireplace and listened to her ranting.

She put her hands on her hips. “But he must be really lonely since his wife and his little girl died. In that big castle, all by himself… If only we could live there.” She looked at the castle with a sad expression.

Suddenly there was the sound of loud cheering heard from behind the houses. “What is going on over there? Come with me, little brother.” she said while running in the direction of where the sound came from. So before you could say anything you followed her, but you were a little behind.

When you turned into the alleyway and went farther down you saw a man talking to your Sister, You saw him talking to her a few times back then. “Hello there, young Rose. You look hungry. Have you reconsidered my offer?” he said oddly nice but also very weird. You of course do know what he's talking about.

You approached them slowly. Rose had a disgusted and angry look on her face. “We’ll never be that hungry. The answer is NO!” That angered the guy. “You’ll be back. And I'll be waiting for Ya.” he said with an angered tone, then walked away.

Rose sighed and looked at you. “Come on, little Sparrow. Let's see what's going on.” she said as we both ran again to where the sound came from. Rose sighed again. “That filthy creep… I hate him.” she spat.

You finally arrived only to see a crowd around a taider. “Oh… It's just a trader. I can't see anything through the crowd.” She was clearly disappointed.

“A-ladies and a-gentlemen… I have traveled the land accumulating wondrous and mysterious objects! Which I now offer to you for the modest price of five gold coins!” he said proudly.

“Consider this. This is truly a magical mirror. For as long as you look into it, it will make you beautiful!” he said lowly. “I'll take it!” a random guy screamed from the crowd. “Very wise! Now just remember: the magic only works if you look at it in complete darkness.” He had a smug look on his face.

The trader turned to something that looked like a music box, but it was completely made of metal. “Ah, now this is truly a marvel.” he said smiling at it. “This small, unassuming box is actually a device created by the ancients. As was used by the old rulers of the kingdom themselves! Turn the handle three times, and you shall be granted a single wish!”

Rose looked unamused at this and scoffed. “There’s no such thing as magic!” she said and she thought that nobody heard it because they were busy watching the trader, but hooded women turned towards us. When you saw her eyes, you noticed that she was probably blind.

“We live in grim times indeed, if the young doesn't believe in magic anymore. Most children your age believe eagerly.” she said in a calming voice. Rose looked at her weirdly but you thought that she was right, only because you believed in it yourself. “Look, I can see your eyes are bad, but I'm telling you, that magic box is rubbish.” while she said that the crowd beside us was getting smaller and smaller until everyone was gone.

“That's what the seller thinks. He has no idea what he stumbled upon. But you have an inkling, have you? Some part of you wants to believe it's magic.” Her voice still calm as before, she turned around already walking away from us.

Rose looked looked at he women surprised. “What? You… you really think it could be?” she asked hesitantly. The woman stopped but only turned her head to the side. “For five gold coins, you could have your own answer.” Rose looks dumbfounded at her answer. “For five gold coins, we could eat for a weak.” Rose frowned.

The women started walking away. “Listen to me, Rose. At the end of the week you and Y/N would be no closer to your dream- no closer to the inside of that beautiful castle.” she started. ‘She, is right actually…’ is all what you thought to yourself.

Rose turned to face you frowning slightly. “What if it is real? I bet we could get five gold coins… and maybe this could be a way out of here, after all. What is there to lose, little sparrow?” she sounded confident. I smiled at her. “Probably nothing!” Rose laughed then nodded. “All right! Come on, there must be someone around here who will pay us to… do something.” with that we went around town to earn some money.

After about half an hour we finally had our five coins to buy the music box! Rose and I went back to the trader. The Trader Murgo looked at you smiling. “Hello children.” he said happily. Rose and I smiled back at him. “Hello, we’ve come to buy the music box.” she started still smiling.

I walked towards the man held my hand in front of him showing him the five coins. “Very wise, little ones! Go ahead and turn the handle- but mind you go somewhere quiet, like.” he smiled at the both of you. “Okay thank you! Bye mister!” you waved at him. “Let's go make our wish, little Sparrow!” she said excitedly, as you both started walking back to your little stay.

You put the music box onto a box wooden box that was around half of your height. “Alright turn the handle!” Rose was a nervous as you started to turn the handle. “I wish… I wish…” After she said her wish the box opened and started glowing in a bright golden color. A beautiful sound was playing but then the music box started rotating and the music got faster, the golden color was turning red and then all of a sudden, the music box lighted up in a bright golden color and disappeared right in front of our eyes!

You and Rose we're shocked. “But… where did it go? Why are we still here? Five gold pieces… Let's just go to bed.” she sounded sad and disappointed. You yourself were sad at this, but still you followed her. “Oh. I was so sure this was it. I had this feeling like… that we weren't going to be stuck in Old Town anymore! Why didn't the box take us with it?” she still sounded sad but tried to push it aside. “Come on, Sparrow, go to bed.” so you both lay down to end the day. “Good night! Love you big Sis!” you said turning to your side. “Good night. I love you too, little Sparrow.” and with that, you both went to sleep. You only hoped that tomorrow would be a better day, and Rose won't be sad anymore.

It was still nighttime when Rose woke up to the sound of footsteps, scared that it could be a thief or something like that. She carefully opened her eyes and stood up, and when she saw who it was she was relieved, I was only the guard that they helped to earn some money for the now gone music box. “What do you want?” asked Rose the guard curiously.

The guard cleared his throat. “I work for Lord Lucien, miss. And would very much like to see you in his castle. I've been sent to collect you.” With that, he walked away, and Rose walked up to your sleeping form. “It did work! Our wish came true! Come on little Sparrow, wake up.” So you opened your eyes and stood up still a little tired. “What's happening, Sis?” you asked her with a yawn and rubbed your eyes.

Rose smiled brightly at you. “Everything is fine. We're going to Lord Lucien’s castle! Now come we have to go little Sparrow!” she said as she ran in the direction of where the guard went to wait for us. When I ran after her I saw her standing with a few guards waiting for me.

“Let's go to the castle!.” Rose said happily, and so we were guided to Castle Fairfax. “What do you think does Lord Lucien wants from us?” I asked her confused. “I don't know, but we will find out shortly, Little Sparrow.” she said looking to at the big doors of the Castle.

The door was open and an old-looking Butler stood there waiting. “Evening. Jeeves. Here are the children Lord Lucien asked for.” he said proudly. The Butler smiled at us. “Excellent!” was all that he said to the guard, then turned back to us. “Hello, young masters.” This confused you but you ignored it. “Hello, sir.” both you and Rose answered politely.

His smile tightened and turned around. “If you'd follow me please.” he said and started to lead us into the castle. We look up at this castle every day and think how nice it is. We both do. But inside it's even more beautiful than I imagined.” Rose told him dreamily. Jeeves chuckled. “It's quite wonderful, isn't it?” it was more of a statement than a question.

Then we saw a man walking past us. “Ah, hello. Master Garth.” Jeeves greeted still walking while the other male said nothing. “Huh, Man of few words.” He led us further into the castle. “Where is the grand dining hall?” Rose suddenly asked curiously. “Oh, in the north wing. Lord Lucien hadn't been there since… Since the tragic deaths of Lady Fairfax and little Amelia.” he told us as we claimed some stairs and further down the hall. “Oh, I heard. That was so awful.” Rose’s tone was sad. Jeeves nodded. “Yes, he misses them terribly.” Rose raised a brow. “So where does he eat?” Jeeves looked at her. “Actually, he takes most of his meals in his study. He's in there working all hours, doing research...” You frowned. “What does he research?” you asked him curiously. “History, mostly. Lord Lucien is quite keen on antiquities of all sorts, but he is chiefly interested in things relating to the Old Kingdom.” Rose nodded understanding. “There was a Trader in Old Town who said his stuff was from the Old Kingdom.” Jeeves nodded. “Yes… yes, I believe Lord Lucien… heard about that.” he told us hesitantly. We were standing in front of some big doors now. “We bought a piece of it and we made a wish and now we're here!” She smiled brightly.

Jeeves smiled again. “That's wonderful. Now, when you meet Lord Lucien., you must show respect at all times. Address him as “my lord.” Speak only when spoken to.” he told us, You and Rose nodded. “Yes sir.” she awnsered shortly. Jeeves stood in front of us “And do not mention Lady Fairfax or Amilia.” he said a little more sternly. Jeeves opened the door to the study. “Here we are. Lord Lucien? The children are here.” Jeeves informed as me and Rose walked in and the door closed right behind us. ‘I don't like this’ is all I thought as I tried to push a weird feeling away.

Lord Lucien turned towards us. “Children. It's come to my attention that you have some sort of magic box. May I see it?” he asked looking at us curiously. “It vanished m’lord. We were winding it up, and we made a wish, and then it started to glow and it disappeared.” she said sadly. “After you used it?” is all he asked. Rose nodded. “Yes, m’lord. The man who sold it to us said it was magic.” Lord Lucien looked a little interested.

“The box is of no interest to me, what's remarkable is that you were able to use it. What was your wish?” he then asked. Rose gasps a little scared. “Well, speak up… what did you wish for?” he asked nicely. Then she looked up at him confidently. “To live in a castle… like this one.” Lucien smiled. “Perhaps that could be arranged. I working to rebuild… well, I'm working on something wonderful, for which I need individuals with particular talents. Let us find out if you have them. Would you kindly stand in the circle, please?” Rose looked at him nervously “Erm…” Lucien Looked at her reassuringly. “I promise, it won't hurt you.” This made my weird feeling grow but Rose still obliged and stepped inside the circle, while you still stood at your spot behind Lord Lucien. Behind the circle were also very big colored windows.

Suddenly the circle started to glow in a bright blue. “What's that?” asked scared. “Nothing to worry about.” Lucien answered. You looked a little scared at the circle. Lord Lucien looked at me with reassuring eyes. “Go on. Stand in the circle.” Then Rose looked at you. “It's all right, little Sparrow. Don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt.” Her tone was soft. So you made a quick nod and stepped into the circle.

When you stepped inside there was some sort of a blue glowing wall. You were trapped. Lord Lucien stood in front of you, his face was full of shock and relief. “It's true. Your blood… you are Heroes.” This of course shocked you and Rose. “Heroes? You mean like in the old stories?” she asked amazed. Lord Lucien then tried to touch the barrier and it sent some shocks to him. “Ah!” he screamed out pulling his hand away and holding it. When this happens the circle suddenly starts to glow bright red. “What are you?” he asked angrily as he walked to a table with many papers and a book on it.

He started panting. “Wait. There was, there was something here…” mumbling to himself. “M’lord, what happened? What's that light?” Rose asked seemingly scared. “Quiet! You're heroes… but you're not any of the three…” he would us while looking through the papers. “What's happening?” asked terrified as Lord Lucien suddenly pulled a gun out. You froze as he suddenly pointed it towards Rose. “This isn't what I wanted… but nothing must stand in my way.” he said darkly. Rose looked even more terrified now. “No, wait. Don't! Nooo!” she screamed in agony, but it was too late he pulled the trigger and she fell to the floor. Tears were now streaming out of your face as you realized what happened, You looked at your now dead sister but you still couldn't move, you were to terrified.

Lucien then pointed the gun towards you. “I can't allow you to live either. I'm sorry.” is all that he said. You pulled your arms in in front of you as you backed away towards the window. And then he shot you which made you crash out of the window onto many roofs before crashing into the street.

When you laid there on the street you barely moved Your fingers. You then heard footsteps and a voice. “Death is not your destiny today, little Sparrow… Y/N” You knew that voice… it was the blind woman from the market. Then you felt how you were picked up into her arms, then you blacked out cold.

Suddenly you woke up to a familiar face it was the woman she had a dog with her that licked your face. It was the dog that you and Rose rescued once. Then time went by fast you reached out for the comfort of the dog’s warm fur, ready to take your first steps in a new life.

Ten winters blanketed in Albion, ten summers filled the air with the sounds of insects and laughter. With time your pain turned to strength. Your grief became will. A will to change the world. And to avenge the death that haunted your every dream.

Now you are 19 year old. You got your revenge for your sister with the help of the other three heroes.

Hammer is one of the other three heroes. You and her were taking a walk with Theresa. “Today is very beautiful, it's not too warm and not too cold! So it's the perfect weather to take a little walk.” Hammer breathed out with a satisfied smile. “Mhm” You nodded in agreement.

“How about we go into town and eat something? My treat!” Hammer asked. “Seems like an nice idea.” Theresa agreed. “Yeah sounds good to me!” you cheered happily. “All right, let's go!” Hammer said while laughing at you, so does Theresa.

So when you were halfway there about to reach the town something felt off as you three talked to each other. Suddenly you noticed your surroundings started to glow. “What's happening?” Hammer asks confused with a little hint of worry. “I don't know!” you answered back. “I feel magic behind it, and it's not yours. It's not good either…” Theresa said as you all stopped. Then the wind started to get stronger, the glowing got brighter, and started to circle around you very fast. You put your arm over your eyes to see something but the sight was getting less by every second that passed.

You, Hammer, and Theresa started to panic. “Help me! Please!” you begged inside the glowing mist. Hammer with half tears in her eyes looked at you then at Theresa panicked. “You have to do something. What's happening to him!?” Hammer screamed. “I can't do anything. This is way against the skills I have.” She said trying to sound calm. “What-” Hammer was about to say something as the mist disappeared, and you with it. Hammer stood there wide eyed. “What happened? Where is he? Theresa where is he!?” She screamed as she fell to her knees. Theresa walked to her side putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. “He will be alright. He will find his way back home.” Hammer was in tears as she looked at her. “You think so?” she sniffled. Theresa nodded. “Let's go home for now.” Her voice was even calmer now. Hammer nodded because she knew that Theresa was right.

Far away in a mansion in America was a Man. Roderick Burgess, he and other people stood in a dungeon under the house. They were a cult and Roderick Burgess was the leader of them. They stood around a summoning circle. They spoke in Latin, then the circle started glowing.

Right next to them was Morpheus held captive. He saw what they were doing. He laid there motionless watching them. As they summoned something, or someone. Then a little explosion was seen above the summoning circle and a bright glowing was there but when it vanished, there was a boy lying on the floor unconscious, on his belt was a well made sword and on his back was a crossbow.

“Take his weapons! And his clothes!” ordered Burgess. One of the cultists stepped towards you and bowed down to grab your sword, and another one grabbed your crossbow, then two others came and started to undress you, which led to you opening your eyes. “Oh, you're awake. Let's talk about business then.” You only glared at Burgess but stayed silent, you were now fully naked. “My Name is Roderick Burgess and I want you to be my personal guard, and hear on every command I give you. If you accept, you will get your stuff back. But if you don't, we will put you in a cage and you will rot in there until you die or eventually give in and accept.” again you stayed silent and didn't respond. Burgess let's out a disappointed sigh, then he nodded at the others and walked away.

While you were put into the glass ball you saw a another male that was also naked, in the cage next to yours. He was tall, and skinny, had black hair and bright blue eyes that stared right into yours as you now laid there.

Out of nowhere, Burgess stepped right in front of your view. You looked at him but didn't dare to move a muscle. “I have that you will rethink about my offer. Even if you don't want to, in the end, you will starve and start to beg for it. I hope you're smarter than this.” then he left again.

When he and everyone left it was only you and the other caged male. You both starred at each other again, only that you didn't really look at him because you thought about Theresa and Hammer, and the fact that you miss them and only wanted to get out of here and back home. Your eyes started burning so closed your eyes and silently let the tears slip.

Morpheus watched you as the tears slipped out of your eyes, but after a short while they stopped, and then he noticed that you probably fell asleep, which was probably better that way, is all what Morpheus thought.

The next day you opened your eyes and sat up slowly. Right now you tried to stay calm so you closed your eyes again. And while sitting there you felt the other males eyes on you but you ignored it.

Then Burgess came in and walked in front of Morpheus's cage. Two other people sat in the back playing a game. Burgess held himself on the cage. “The woman who lives with me has gone and robbed me of my fortune. She’s also robbed you. She's taken your helm, your sand, and your ruby.” this made you open your eyes and look at them. “Now I can unlock this, you can go after her…” Morpheus looked up at Burgess with a glare. “If you give me what I've been asking for. Wealth, youth, immortality. Oh, your a god. These things are nothing to you. Don't you want your weapons and freedom? Just like you Hero?” Burgess said lowly looking between the two of you.

So when you and the male in front of him didn't answer he got impatient and angry. “Speak to me! Speak to me! Speak to me!” he screamed and banged his stick against the glass, which caused the male to flinch shortly. A boy came walking from behind. “Come on! Speak to me!” he screamed again. “It's all right, Father.” the boy put his hand on his shoulder tho stop Burgess of what he was doing. ‘That asshole has a kid?’ is all you thought.

Burgess pushed him away. “Get away from me! If you were any kind of son to me…” he told him as he held the stick in the air and lashed out to the boy, but he dodged it, but hit him with the second one. The boy grabbed the stick so they both held it and faced each other. “If Randell was still alive today-” Burgess was cut off by the boy. “If Randell were alive, he would hate you as much as I do.” he said with hatred, and pushed Burgess back as he tried to attack the boy again, which led him to lose his balance hand his head hit the cage.

Burgess let the stick fall hand put his hand on the back of his head and saw blood when he looked at it, then he fell to the ground, with a big wound on the back of his head.

The to other man and the boy rushed to him. “Sir?” one of them said in panic. But when the boy put his hand on Burgess’s head as he saw a pool of blood leaping out of the wound. You and Morpheus only watched the scene. “You won't get out of there. Never.” Burgess looked at You and Morpheus one more time, then his eyes closed. “Sir can you hear me? Sir?” one of the male askedand tried to shake him but Brugess didn't answer. He was Dead.

The boy looked shocked and looked at his father as he sat there on the ground. “He isn't moving. Is he…” one of the males said. “He's dead.” the other one answered as the boy stood up, Looking at his bloodied hand and back to his dead father.

The Boy stumbled away a few feet but stopped between our cages. He stopped at the cage of the other male and turned to look at him. Morpheus stared back at him and slowly stood up, Your checks got red as you saw that but you wanted to see the interaction.

Morpheus reached his hand out. ‘He’s probably asking him to open the cage.’ is what you thought. The boy turned his head a bit as he reached out too. “Don't do it, sir. He’ll kill us.” one of the males said. “What would your father say?” the male spoke again, Before the boy's hand touched the glass he stopped and put his hand back down, and looked at the ground.

The male in the cage looked disappointed, as the boy looked back up. “I need to think.” he said and looked at the other male then to you, then he left. Morpheus also had put his hand back down watching him leave.

You were angry, but still, you stood up slowly wich made Morpheus look at you. You were a bit ashamed because you had no clothes on but you pushed that aside as you both looked at each other. You held sadness in your eyes as you slowly reached out and put one hand flat on the glass. Morpheus did the same while staring into your eyes. When you looked at him you immediately felt safe.

Then nine months later the door to the Dungeons door was heard which made the guards stand up and open the gate. Alex and also another boy came in. “How are they today, Rogers?” Alex asked. Rogers sighed. “Moved his hand this morning. Right hand. And the other one is also just sitting there but didn't move.” Alex nodded, as the other boy walked in. He had a look of shock on his face and gasped. “Oh, my God.” he looked at Alex and back to you and Morpheus. “Alex?” he asked.

Alex then walked in looking at the both of you. “Hello. This is my friend, Paul.” he told you as they walked further in. “Paul, these are our unwilling guests.” he said looking at his friend shortly.

Alex was getting a little nervous. “Look, we've been talking, Paul and I, and if I let you out, will you promise not to harm us?” he asked calmly while looking at us. You both didn't move not answered his question. “If you could just speak to us.” Paul said a little nervous himself, but again silence.

Alex looked at Paul. “You see, I told you.” he was a little disappointed. “I'm telling you, you have to keep trying. Show them that they can trust you. Show them that you mean it.” Paul softly awnsered back.

Alex nodded at us. “I do mean it. Just promise that you won't hurt me or Paul, and I will let you out.” Alex tried to reason. But again we didn't answer. We just looked at them this time.

Almost eighty years later you had developed feelings for the Male in the cage next to you which was weird because you didn't even know his name, but little did you know that Morpheus also grew feelings for you.

Also the guards started to change every now and then until they looked very modern. And you, you were still looking young and didn't age which you thought was weird and not normal, but Alex was old now just as Paul was, they both married year's ago. They were in the dungeon again. Alex stood in front of Morpheus's cage and had his hand on the glass. “I could have asked you for wealth or Power, and protection, like my father did. But all I wanted was to be free of you two.” He said softly.

You and Morpheus looked up at him. “Surely you want that too.” Paul walked into view pushing a wheelchair in front of him. “Alex, darling, please.” he said softly mentioning to the wheelchair. Alex put his hand away from the glass and sat down in the wheelchair, Paul's hand on his shoulder. He looked at us one more time. “Take me upstairs, Paul. I won't be coming down here again.” is all that he said as Paul started to push the wheelchair, and now there was a gap in the protective circle. Paul stopped a few feet away and looked back seeing it, then he looked at us and made a small nod. He then around and and left with Alex.

Morpheus looked at the gap and wondered why Paul would do that, but in the end it doesn't matter, he can free himself and you now and that's all that matters to him right now.

So when they got out, and the door to the dungeon closed, it was only two guards left inside. “Old Dracula here’s not moving an inch. Just like the other weirdo.” the Female guard said quietly, looking up from her book she was reading. “Why do you call it Dracula and weirdo?” The male guard said tiredly while looking up from his newspaper. “Because I think they are. What do you think they are?” she asked quickly.

The male sighed. “I try not. You know what I think about?” he asked her, again looking up from his newspaper. “Majorca. Four days… and I'll be on a beach. Stinking of suntan lotion.” he said and smiled to himself at the thought.

Morpheus leaned forward holding himself on the glass while glaring at the guard. And you were just watching. “Lucky bugger. I was on Corfu on holiday once.” the female guard told as the other one yawned and fell asleep. Suddenly something weird starts to happen as Morpheus stares at the guard. The guard stood up from his chair and shot both of our cages and they started to break. You sat there wide eyed. “Fred!” the female guard screamed.

She ran towards him to stop him. “Fred, stop it! You'll… Fred!” she screamed but it was too late Both of your cages exploded into many pieces and our surroundings were glowing. You and Morpheus got out of your cages. “Don’t move! Stay where you are!” the guy called Fred screamed. “What… what's he got in his hands?” the female screamed. You looked at Morpheus and saw that he had something in his balled fist but you couldn't see it.

Morpheus slowly put his hand up where he held something in it right in front of his face. The guards already had their weapons aimed at us. “Oi! Open your hands, now!” she screamed at him.

And so he opened his Hand and you saw him blowing some sort of sand towards them, which made them instantly fall asleep. You were watching the scene curious. But then all of your strength suddenly left your legs and you fell to your knees right next to Morpheus with a thud. He instantly looked at you and kneeled down to your hight.

He slowly put his hand on your cheek and his eyes looked at you softly. “I'll get us out of here.” he said and his tone was smooth but very deep. You melted into his hand and nodded at him. Then he slowly picked you up bridal style. Your arms around his waist as you were sucked into the glowing. You… you were getting your revenge now.

Then in a room a black cat came in and sat on a chair in the middle of the room. There also came Alex into the room he looked young again and he curiously looked at the cat with his head tilted to the side. Suddenly the cat disappeared and Morpheus sat on the chair and you stood beside him both fully clothed as you looked at Alex darkly. “Hello” Morpheus said.

Alex was scared you could see it in his eyes. “It's... It's you two. You're… you're free.” he said quietly. “We are.” Morpheus simply awnsered as he stood up and the wind started to blow through the open window. “And have you any idea what it was like? Confined in a cage for over a century?” he asked as he slowly walked towards Alex. “Do you understand the damage you've done to your world?” he asked again. Alex was more then just scared now, he was terrified. “I'm sorry. I… I didn't know. Please.” he said backing away a bit.

Morpheus looked at him unbothered just like you. “Your punishment, then, shall be a gift.” when he said that Alex turned to a little boy. “I give you this, the gift… of eternal… sleep.” when he finished the sentence he blow some sand in Alex’s face and he fell asleep.

Morpheus looked looked back at you holding his hand out. “Let's get out of here.” That's all you needed to hear and took his hand as he teleported you both.

A voice was heard. ”Sir. Sir.” It was the panicked voice of Lucienne. “Oh, my goodness.” she kneeled down to turn him onto his back. “Sir. It's me!” she panted as she saw his eyes opening. “It's Lucienne.” she said as Morpheus looked at her and started to smile and took her hand. “Lucienne.” he whispered weakly. “Your home, my Lord.” and that's when Morpheus started to frown. When he looked beside him he noticed you weren't there. “My Lord? What's wrong?” she asked worriedly.

Morpheus started to stand up. “A boy, he was held captive. Just like me. I brought him with me.” He said as he started to look around. Not even a minute later he saw you laying a few feet away from him, and he immediately sprinted towards you with Lucienne. “A Human? Why was he held captive?” she asked confused. Morpheus shook his head as he turned you around and saw you breathing normally. “He is not fully human, it seems. Because he didn't age for almost a century. The man who held us captive once called him Hero.” Lucienne looked at him baffled. “Do you think he is one of the three heroes? My Lord?” she asked. “I don't know.” is all he awnsered as he gently put a hand on your cheek which made you open your eyes.

When you saw him you started to smile. “Your safe now.” Morpheus said softly as he helped you off of the ground. You looked around and saw the woman with pointy ears and smiled at her. “Hello, jung Man.” she smiled back at you. You were a little scared to speak because you didn't talk since you were held captive, but you decided to still try it. “H-Hello.” you said but your voice didn't sound raspy or broken as you thought it would be. Morpheus and Lucienne smiled at you. “Thank you, for taking me with you…” you started but you trailed off because you didn't know his name.

Morpheus smiled softly at you. “My name is Morpheus. And this is Lucienne.” he told you. “Thank you, Morpheus. And my name is Y/N.” you smiled at both of them.

You started walking over to very huge gates on a massive wall. On those big gates were some pictures in it it looked well made. It made you look at them amazed with your mouth wide open. Morpheus looked at you and chuckled. “You like them?” he asked which made you blink before realizing, and looked at him. “Yeah! I-I mean they look astonishing!” you smiled at him nervously.

Morpheus then raised his hand and touched the gates, they began shaking and started to open up. “Forgive me, sir, but… the realm, the palace… they are not as you left them.” Lucienne said as Morpheus looked at her. Morpheus looked through the gate as it opened. His look… he was shocked with what happened to his Realm… his home.

You, looked shocked too, even if you didn't know how it looked like before. You saw the dead trees and bushes, the land looked like as if it was completely dead. Then you saw that a piece of the roof from the half destroyed castle fell down. “What happened here? Who did this?” He asked not daring to look away from his destroyed home.

Lucienne let out a sigh. “My Lord, you are The Dreaming, The Dreaming is you. With you gone as long as you were, the realm began to… decay. And crumble.” she looked at him sadly as he looked back at her. “And the residents? The Palace staff?” Morpheus asked with a little hope. “I'm afraid most have… gone.” she looked at the ground. “Gone?” he asked rising his eyebrows. “Some went looking for you.” she looked back at him. “And the others?” He asked walking in front of her. Lucienne looked back down to her side, then back up. “They thought, perhaps, you'd grown weary of your duties and…” Morpheus stopped her. “What? Abandoned them? Had they so little faith in me?” he asked in disbelief.

Lucienne didn't know what to say. You on the other concentrated on the view that was in front of you, as the conversation went deff on your ears. You slowly started to move away from them and towards the destroyed landscape. You felt welcomed even if the view in front of you didn't look welcoming in the first place. You closed your eyes whilst you took in the fresh air.

Lucienne looked towards you, which made Morpheus look behind him and he sees that you are walking away from them. When suddenly they saw some tears rolling down your face, when you turned your head sideways.

Lucienne looks worried. Then you felt a hand on your shoulder which made you open your eyes and look at the person who's hand was on your shoulder. It was Morpheus. You look at him puzzled. “Y/N?” Morpheus asked. “Yes? Is something wrong?” you tilted your head. “You seemed lost in thoughts. What's wrong?” he asked softly. “Didn’t notice that! I'm happy to be free again and out of this tiny cell in that weird Dungeon… Aaaand I'm probably a little tired after some sleepless nights.” You laughed awkwardly while scratching your head.

Morpheus nodded. “How about a little sleep then?” He asked while rising a brow. “Hmmm, no. Not before I helped you rebuild your realm!” you said grinning and put your hands on your hips. “But if you want to help him, you will need your sleep.” Lucienne reasoned. You humed. “You're probably right. Okay, I'll sleep once we’re there.” you smiled. Morpheus nodded again. “Let's go shall we?” you nodded at his question and walked beside him.

When you arrived at the castle, Morpheus turned towards you. “Come with me, I show you where you can sleep,” he started as you part ways with Lucienne. “Can I ask you something, Morpheus?” you look at him. “Of course. What do you want to know?” you thought for a short second. “I wanted to know who you are besides Morpheus, you know?” you asked nervously. Morpheus smiled and made a small chuckle. “I am an Endless, Dream of the Endless to be exact. People also call me the Sandman. Also we're here.” he said opening a door to a bedroom that was still intact. When you went inside you saw that the room was painted in black, but it was held simple.

You pulled your shoes, coat, and shirt off. When you sat down on the bed, Morpheus follows you and stands in front of you. “Who's room is this?” you asked looking around. “It's mine.” he simply answered. Your head shot into his direction while standing up. “I didn't know. I can sleep on the floor too.” you tried to say as he already put a hand on your shoulder and sat you back down. “It's alright. I told you to sleep, didn't I?” you looked baffled as you nodded at him. “Now, lay down.” you did as you were told and pulled the covers over you.

Morpheus kneels down to your height, and holds a closed hand in front of his face, which makes you realize what he was about to do so you stop him. “Wait!” you said which made him raise a brow. “Yes?” he asks while looking into your eyes. “We can share the bed if you want! I mean if it's okay with you…” you said shyly. This catches Morpheus off guard but he starts to smirk slightly. “If that's what you want. I will. But I will go and talk to Lucienne shortly, then I'll be back.” he says and you give him a closed-eyed smile. “Yeah, I'll wait.” Morpheus gives you a nod as he stands up and leaves the room grinning to himself.

About ten minutes later he returned. “I'm here now.” he says and you simply nod at him. So he pulls his shirt and pants off but leaves the boxers on. He walks over to the empty side of the bed and gets under the covers. You both stare at each other until you slowly fell asleep. Morpheus smiled at your peaceful sleeping face as he slowly touched your cheek with his hand. Then the next second, you had your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. “Good night, Y/N.” Morpheus had a small smile on his face as he laid his arms around your body.

#male reader #gay #male x male #male x male reader #x male reader #lgbtq #x male y/n #the sandman #morpheus #lord morpheus #dream #dream of the endless #oneiros #fable 2 #morpheus x male reader #lord morpheus x male reader

62 notes · View notes

artficlly · 1 year

Text

lady of the ghosts [chapter one]

After a great plague ravages your city, you are looking to marry to secure safety for your people. With a war finally ending, the nearby kingdoms are looking to celebrate. King James "Bucky" Barnes decides to continue his family's tradition of hosting a courting season. A medieval courting marvel AU.

Pairing: king!bucky x lady!reader

Warnings: mention of disease, mention of war, sexism, mention of blood

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N: ikik i should just be focusing on doing one series at a time, but god do i love a good medieval style courting au!! i don't know if this will have fantasy elements in it - it def could i am just hesitant! let me know what you think <3 not proof read - srry for typos.

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

Faliene, the city of The Stormfall Mountains, had once been a rich seaport. Before misfortune struck, it had been a great, bustling city, full of life, culture, and riches. The men of Faliene were seafarers, importing and exporting goods throughout the continents. Their families worked the land, raised livestock in the mountains, or sold the goods they produced. The streets had been lined with markets, taverns, and exotic dealers from across the known land. The deeper you moved within its walls, the more the city expanded into a dizzying mass of houses stacked atop each other, banners and flags adorning the alleys. It was said that one could live their entire life and not know every corner of Faliene, never eat at every food stall, or buy from every shop before a new one emerged. At its center stood Fort Faliene, the home of the Lord and Lady of Faliene. The fortress was surrounded by large cobblestone walls and was guarded by two towers that looked out over the port and the surrounding land. It had been the biggest port city on the Northern Continent. The pride and joy of the Kingdom of Haiford.

But time had not been kind to Faliene.

War ravaged the Northern Continent, kingdom against kingdom. New ports were built further south. The mainlanders had grown tired of navigating the icy seas and mountains that surrounded Faliene. Only the men of Faliene truly understood how to navigate its icy conditions, leaving the mainlanders fearful that the burly northern men would threaten their jobs. Slowly, Faliene turned from a haven for traders and seafarers to a ghost town. Some seafarers remained, bracing the freezing seas to fish and cart goods down to the Southern Coast. Others turned to farming, though the frozen Stormfall Mountains were a cruel mistress to their inhabitants. Crops failed to grow as the freezing winters returned stronger and more merciless than the last. The city was full of ghosts, and in that far north, the people were highly superstitious. The Lord and Lady were unprepared for the famine and poverty that followed Faliene’s fall. Some said the city had a curse upon it, doomed to fail since its conception. They whispered that greed had overtaken the once bustling city, finally bringing her to her knees as she rotted from the inside. The people of Failene were proud; they held on for generations, peddling fish and livestock. Faliene was their home; they would not give up on her so easily. Regardless of their noble intentions, even the strongest of Faliene did not anticipate the plague. Nor did they survive it.

Faliene, the City of Ghosts. How you yearned for her cold embrace once more.

The dining hall was stiflingly hot. No matter how long you had lived in the capital, you had never adjusted to the mainland heat. You knew many of the men would protest that, saying that Haiford was one of the colder kingdoms. Haiford was tucked deep into the north; it was the closest neighbor of Faliene. Further north, past Faliene, there was only an ocean of frozen water and death. You were used to the frigid winds that blew from the Northern Ocean and the thick snow that fell from the Stormfall Mountains. You were glad you had opted for a lighter dress, with rich blue silk pooling across your skin. The waist was pulled in by an outer corset made of leather, adorned with silver eyelets and black lacing. The neckline cut deep to reveal some cleavage, and the sleeves long and cuffed at the wrist. Most of the women of the court wore high-neck gowns made from velvet and light, high-quality wool. You didn’t know if you could bear the feeling of lace constricting your throat at that moment.

Regardless of the current courtly fashion, you wore your family colors. Blue, black, and silver. It was the subject of much contempt from your fellow ladies, who opted for the royal family's colors: red, yellow, and gold. You never had much of a love for red; you always dressed like a stormy ocean or a snowy mountain range. The women despised your silver earrings, necklaces, and rings. They said it was a metal for the commoner and that gold was the trend in court. You didn’t care. Your mother had always dressed in blue, even after the wedding. King Harrison had never commented on it, at least not publicly.

Your mother had been Lady of Faliene. You had spent half your childhood alongside her and your father in your beloved homeland. When a plague had swept the city, claiming half the population along with your father? You and your mother had been forced to flee inland to the capital, and Haiford Court promised protection. The King of Haiford had recently lost his wife and agreed to marry your mother. The two of you would not have to return to your ghost town, instead enjoying the privilege of court and the advantages it brought. Your mother had wanted to find you a suitable husband and secure you a position now that your father was dead. You were the sole heir of Faliene, and unfortunately, you were a woman. You had no claim over any money or men without a husband. Any trades you tried to make on behalf of your people would be laughed at; a lone woman was not allowed to hold power. If you had been a man, you would have been able to claim Faliene and try to save her. But as a woman, you had one duty: to produce heirs. One of the condition’s for your Mother’s marriage was that she gave King Harrison another heir. King Harrison had two children: his son Micheal and his daughter Peggy. Princess Peggy would never be allowed to rule, being a woman like yourself. King Harrison wanted another boy to act as a spare and backup heir if Micheal was compromised.

Your mother never delivered on her end of the deal. She grew sick – deathly so – shortly after arriving in Haiford. She had been bedridden for the past few years, in and out of fever and delirium. King Harrison allowed you to stay in the capital as long as your mother stayed alive. It was an agreement that you would find a sensible husband, one with land and a suitable title. Only your husband would be able to access your dowry or any funds left in the Faliene accounts. Only your husband would be able to save Faliene; Haiford law forbade women from being involved in politics beyond being a piece of livestock to trade and breed. You would be married; you would pretend to love your husband, smile along in public, and provide him with children, whom you would also pretend to love. Then you would die. You were the Lady of the Ghosts, a Lady of Nothing. King Harrison did not wish to save your beloved Faliene. If there were no Lords and Ladies suitable to oversee the now-small city, it would slowly die out. That way, he would no longer have to worry about the city, as there would only be ghosts left to rule.

Slowly, you lift your glass of wine to your lips. Taking a sip, you observe the chaos. You are seated at the head of the hall, along with the royal family, the other lords and ladies, and a few of the knights. Below you, several long tables stretch out, seating hundreds of men and women. The men are rowdy, shouting and laughing as they celebrate. You can’t blame them; a war had ended.

For the past three years, war has raged on the Kingdom’s borders. The neighboring Kingdom of Galanta had fallen under attack by their Southern neighbors, the Realm of Hydrina. Haiford had come to Galanta’s aid throughout the three years. The King and Queen of Galanta had died during the war. It left their heir, Prince James, to inherit not only a kingdom but a war. You knew the aide was only there for political reasons. Galanta was a rich Kingdom, with soil rich for farming, mines full of ores, and a traders haven. The word among the women was that King Harrison was aiming to have Princess Peggy married to King James. It made sense to join the two families; King James would need a wife to solidify his rule with heirs, as well as being in debt to Haiford for their help during the war.

You understood the moves and countermoves of court politics. You had to in order to survive. The women of the court didn’t enjoy your presence; you didn’t have the privilege of being an official member of the royal family like your mother. They actively looked for ways to shun you and have you sent away from the castle. You always had to be two steps ahead. You viewed life like a chess board, always anticipating your opponent's next move. You spent hours reading, educating yourself in history, politics, battle, language, and more. The most powerful weapon a woman had was not only her body but also her mind and tongue.

Your attention was briefly pulled to some of the nearby knights drunkenly laughing. Being a lower-ranked lady, you had been placed next to the knights at the dining table. Next to you was Steve Rogers, Knight of Galanta. His father was a high-ranking Lord in Galanta. Steve, being the youngest of seven brothers, had no possibility of inheriting his father’s fortune or land. So, at a young age, he became a squire and eventually trained to become a Knight of Galanta. He had eventually become one of the highest-ranking Knights of Galanta and one of King James’ most trusted advisors. During the war, he had been positioned to help Prince Micheal with the Haiford armies. You had grown to like his presence; it was a shame that he would soon depart for Galanta along with his men.

The first time you spoke to Steve, it was in the royal library. You had a habit of sneaking into the library at night. At home in Faliene, you had run rampant and wild in your father’s study; he had encouraged your curious mind. You would read, play chess, and discuss unladylike topics such as politics and war. You had continued your curiosities in Haiford, just under the cover of darkness. When the war had begun, you had not anticipated Steve and his fellow knights using the library as a space to discuss battle plans.

That night, you had snuck in to collect some volumes on The Crimson Crusade. Steve had spotted you flitting through the shelves, books in hand, and called you over. You were both so much younger then. He had been handsome with a boyish charm back then; the muscled blond heartthrob from Galanta had all the ladies maids swooning.

“Why would a Lady like yourself find interest in The Crimson Crusade?” Steve had asked, noting the books in your grasp. His fellow Knights had snickered under their breath, like they were encouraging Steve to mock you. Back then, you had assumed Steve was just another peacock knight. You had seen the way he showed off in the courtyard, cutting down the men during training while the women watched with squeals of delight. You had watched how he would parade around, smirking at the women and kissing their knuckles with a bow of his head. Due to that, you didn’t flush in embarrassment. Instead, you held his gaze with an impudent smile.

“My grandfather helped lead the Siege of Nelley Stronghold.” You had explained, your voice steady and cool. “It is important to understand history to ensure it doesn't repeat itself.” Your gaze had followed over to the map they had laid out across the table, your eyes flickering between the small figurines representing the different armies.

The men were silent, but when your eyes had returned to Steve, you had found he was grinning at you.

“You find analyzing battle strategy a hobby? Women such as yourself are supposed to find entertainment in menial tasks such as embroidery or gossip.” One of the Knights had spoken up with a mocking laugh, looking between his peers, who also laughed. Steve hadn’t laughed; instead, he was watching to see how you handled the comment.

“How ironic that you mock women for their menial tasks yet deny their interest in a proper education? An uneducated woman is too easy and weak for your respect, but you are obviously intimidated by the prospect of a woman who is more intelligent than you.” You had replied, armed with a sickly sweet smile. Steve had held his breath, watching as you stepped closer to the table. The men had been stunned into silence, watching as you tilted your head at the map to analyze the proposed plan of attack.

Your hands had been unshaking as you reached out, moving a handful of figurines from one location to another. Half of the figurines had been shaped as snakes – the armies of Hydrina. The other half were the armies of Haiford, represented by a wolf.

“It is the wet season.” You had stated as you shifted the figurines. “Even if you have stronger numbers, fighting on the Fell Field would be unwise. It is a marshland, and the armies of Hydrina will have the upper hand as they are used to such conditions. You have to remember that you are fighting with Haiford men, not Galantians. Haiford men are used to snow, not marsh. Hiwold Expanse has solid land, there you would have the upper hand.”

The men looked to Steve as he had nodded with an impressed smile. It seemed they had respect for the man, not questioning his judgment. You had watched as Steve’s calloused fingers danced over the hilt of his sword as if in thought.

“How did you know this? Have you traveled that land before?” Steve had asked you. His question had been genuine, not mocking. He had been interested in discovering how you knew that because he knew you were entirely right.

“The Battle of the Dark Marsh,” You had explained. “Similar circumstances. Haiford had more men, yet they were slaughtered. They were a force through snow and ice, but not marshland.”

“Understand history, so you do not repeat it.” Steve had quoted you with a smile.

That night had entirely changed your perspective on Steve. Unlike some of his men, he was kind and considerate. He enjoyed listening to your opinions and navigating the years of knowledge you had stored away in your mind. Often, he had requested your help with battle strategy, commenting on your adeptness on the subject.

Holding your tongue between your teeth, you suppress a small laugh as you hear Prince Micheal boasting about his efforts in the war. You had heard him spew the same story, adding more extreme and near-impossible details each time he told it. It had developed from him slaying one rogue soldier to slaying half an army with only his sword and wit. The ladies of court lapped it up, giggling and batting their eyelashes. They knew he was lying; they just knew how to play the game.

“Do tell me what you find so amusing, Lady Y/N?” Steve asks from beside you.

“I fear I shouldn’t say, Sir Rogers.” You reply, delicately placing your glass of wine back on the table. Steve’s eyes watch the action, a small smile playing across his lips. The two of you had… become friends. As scandalous as that was.

“Go on,” Steve encourages you. You don’t look him in the eye, instead twisting one of the silver rings around your finger. In your time as friends with Steve, he often encouraged you to be rather loose-lipped. You knew it was a mistake to air out your true opinions when he could betray you at any moment. Some things you kept close to your heart, but still, the two of you spoke ill of many people in the court. You knew Steve realistically wouldn’t turn on you, but you were still wary in public.

“I just find it rather entertaining how Prince Micheal brags about his contributions to the war. We all know that he spent more time bedding every woman in sight than actually going to battle.” You mutter quietly in Steve’s direction. A nearby knight, Sam Wilson, also of Galanta, chokes on his wine as he overhears your snide comment. Steve only belts out a laugh, thumping his hand against his chest as he leans back into his chair. All you can do is smile innocently.

“You know, Bucky – sorry, James – said something similar.” Steve says once he has recovered. Sam is still coughing, gaining some looks from nearby lords and ladies. Bucky. You had heard Steve refer to King James as that before; it was a nickname or pet name of sorts. You had learned the two of them had grown up together in a sense, with Steve’s lord father having been close with the late King and Queen of Galanta. The two of them must have been close friends for him to have such a casual relationship with the new King of Galanta. He always accidentally referred to him as Bucky. Never James, or even Jamie. You wondered where the name came from – why Bucky? Was Bucky different from James? Was James the serious one who played king, while Bucky was the childhood friend who trained in the mud alongside Steve?

“Is that so?” You reply, eyeing Sam with slight concern. “Please do not choke to death, Sir Wilson. You’re already causing quite the scene, I can’t imagine a corpse at the dining table would help the situation.”

Steve grins at that, pouring Sam some more wine to wash down the coughing. Even without turning, you can feel the gazes of others at the table watching. They wouldn't have been able to hear the conversation you were having, but they had certainly observed the aftermath. You could already imagine Prince Micheal’s grating voice commenting on the situation. King Harrison had made it clear that he wasn’t particularly pleased about you keeping company with knights in your spare time.

“Will you be attending The Galanta Season? James wants to host and continue the tradition now that the war is over.” Steve asks. You stab a piece of potato with a long sigh, popping it into your mouth.

The Galanta Season was all the ladies of court spoke about these days. Now that the war was over, there was an expectation that King James would hold a grand season to make up for the years lost. The Galanta Season was a match-making event, pairing lords, ladies, princes, and princesses from across the continent for marriage. If anything, you thought the event was a glorified excuse to party and drink. The festivities ran for a month – sometimes longer – including dances, feasts, promenades, and a variety of other events. Though most marriages were arranged or premeditated, the Season allowed couples to get to know each other before saying their vows.

“I suppose I should, if I am invited.” You reply. You knew you would be. Probably every eligible man on the continent knew you were on the hunt for a husband, which is why most of them steered clear. No one wanted to inherit the disaster that was Faliene. Or if they did show interest, it was only in having you for breeding purposes. They would ignore Faliene and let it die out naturally.

As much as you wished you could enjoy the prospect of drinking and partying in Galanta, you knew that your fate probably lay with an old man who was slowly wasting away. Old men were able to look past the reputation that surrounded you, they had different intentions than the younger, eligible men. The old men wanted you to provide more heirs. Younger men wanted bragging rights. You had heard those younger men gossip once, muttering about how you were ‘such a great beauty; what a shame about her situation’ and ‘how it would feel to bed Lady Y/N’. You didn’t know who was the worst pick: the corpse of an old man or a young, handsome man with the personality of a pig.

“You will be invited. I heard you’re in the market for a husband now that the war has passed and all the men have returned home.” Steve comments, taking a sip of his wine. You hold your tongue at the ‘I heard’. You wondered what other things Steve heard about you or said about you. You could only hope that he wasn't a pig like the other men. You doubted he was, but you had to be wary. Court was a strange place; you never truly knew anyone.

“It appears so.” You hum bitterly, trying to appear indifferent. Your appetite has suddenly disappeared, and the meat and potatoes in front of you appear unappealing.

“You know, James is on the hunt for a wife.” Steve murmurs to you, leaning closer so only you can hear. You whip your head around, giving him a bewildered look. If he had said this to any other lady, you wouldn’t have thought twice. It would’ve been a subtle way to indicate James’ interest in Princess Peggy. The way Steve said it, to you of all people. You know what he is implying.

“Don’t be cruel.” You whisper back to him. Your faces are close, at an unseemly distance. You are glad for the chaos in the hall suddenly and hope that no one is watching too closely. Most of the men are either focused on their food or the dancing that has sprung up between the tables.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but I don’t think Princess Peggy is quite the woman he is looking for.” Steve hums before finally resting back in his seat with a smug look. You don’t dare ask what kind of woman King James is looking for.

It seemed that Steve had quickly taken to the idea that he was an older brother of sorts. You had never commented on it. Steve was aware of your mission to save Faliene, though sometimes you found his interference overbearing. In that moment, you knew he had good intentions – that he wanted you to marry someone who he knew was kind and who he knew you would be happy with. But pushing ridiculous notions about you and James? That is where you drew the line. You had to be realistic about your position.

“You have become far too comfortable around me, Sir Rogers. I should take my leave before you convert me to your wickedness.” You say, hoping to shut down the conversation. Pushing your seat out as you go to stand. Steve follows your actions, hand-resting your arm to guide you down to the lower level. You can see Prince Micheal watching this with a smug smirk on his face. You already know you’re going to get an earful about this later.

“Oh, I think you are already fairly wicked.” Steve chuckles into your ear, pausing on the edge of the dance floor. “Dare to take a dance with me?”

Your eyes flicker over to Prince Micheal, who is muttering away to King Harrison. Any other day, you might have denied Steve on the idea that it could be perceived as improper. Today, you would take the risk. Steve was leaving for Galanta, and he had been a good friend to you these past few years. The least you could do was enjoy a final moment together.

“I suppose.” You reply with a smile, allowing him to take your hand and lead you onto the dance floor.

You note how a few of the other Knights of Galanta smile among themselves, a stark difference from Prince Micheal who is now scowling. Steve’s hand rests gently on your waist, pulling you closer. You keep your gaze and breath steady as you place your hand on his shoulder, the fabric of his tunic rough on your smooth skin. Your other hand is interlinked with his as he guides you into the crowd of dancers, slowly spiraling away to the music.

“If you plan to marry this season, whose attention are you hoping to catch?” Steve asks, his breath tickling your neck. You keep your gaze steady, tilting your head in thought. You knew Steve meant well by continuing to press on the topic. He didn’t know that you were exhausted on the topic and that it was all you thought about these days. These were questions the two of you had avoided for the past few years. All your discussions had been about the war or life before the war. Both of you had never dared to think about the future, let alone discuss your plans to marry. He knew you were smart, but even the smartest of women couldn’t be saved from the evil intentions of men.

“King Harrison hopes to introduce me to Lord Rumlow.” You sigh reluctantly, already anticipating his reaction. If Steve meant to step into the shoes of a brotherly role, you knew he would not find Lord Rumlow acceptable.

“What? That snake? That’s absurd.” Steve growled, his eyebrows pulled into a scowl.

The proposition of you marrying Lord Rumlow was a laughable one. He was above your station, a man of riches and land. If it hadn’t been for the war, he would’ve had his pick of the litter within the court. Rumlow had messed up, meaning his courting opportunities only lay with the lower-ranking women or the disgraced ones like yourself. During the war, he had sided with Hydrina. You didn’t know the full details; there were mutterings of Rumlow having conflict with his blood ties to Hydrina. By the time he had chosen to switch sides to support Galanta, his reputation had been ruined. King James had pardoned him due to his loyalty in the final months of the war, but his name would be forever tarnished. It seemed only natural that society would want to pair the Lady of the Ghosts with the Lord of the Snakes.

“I don’t have much choice in the matter, unfortunately.” You reply with a sigh, offering Steve a bittersweet smile. As the music flared, you slowly spun out along with the other ladies, skirts swirling around you. Steve’s touch was gentle as he guided you back into your steps.

“I’m sure your situation isn’t so dire that you have to lower yourself to the level of Lord Rumlow?” Steve asked, his tone was resentful. As much as you liked Steve, you noticed he could be completely clueless about your situation as a woman. Especially when his emotions about other people got in the way.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” You sigh. “I know it is different in Galanta. It is against the law for me to run Faliene, as I am not married or widowed. Most men won’t touch me due to the situation in Faliene. They fear it will ruin their reputation. I must marry for security, no matter who it is. If such a marriage will bring help to the people of Faliene, then that is all I need.”

“Rumlow offered to secure Faliene?” Steve asked, surprise laced in his voice. You bite the inside of your cheek, your eyes flickering down in embarrassment.

“No. I was going to propose the idea.” You admit as Steve shakes his head.

“He’ll never take it. Forgive me, but considering your position, he’ll consider marrying you as a mercy. Asking him to interfere with the situation in Faliene will end in disaster.” He says, slowly guiding you from the crowd on the dance floor as the song draws to an end. His hand slips from your waist as you clear your throat, hyper-aware of the royals scowling at the two of you.

“I fear you are correct, but all I can do is try. If not with Rumlow, then another lord.” You say, withdrawing your hand from his shoulder as you step away.

“I have every faith that you will succeed.” Steve hums with a smile. “I return to Galanta tomorrow. We will see each other again for the Season, but allow me to thank you for your company these past years.”

“Why, was the royal court too dull for your taste?” You tease. You know you should move on and stop talking to him with so many eyes on you. But you can’t help yourself. If the war had taught you anything, it was that you were lonely. Especially with your mother being sick and all your childhood friends either dead or remaining in Faliene.

“Dull definitely seems like the correct word to describe Haiford Court. Especially if you had not been here.”

“Careful, Sir Rogers.” You warn, although you are smiling.

“Apologies, but I hope you know I am telling the truth.” Steve chuckles with his own smile.

“I should bid you goodnight before the ladies of court conjure up any more scandalous rumors.” You could already imagine the muttering that would ensue at afternoon tea tomorrow, that you had distracted Steve from the women who were actually suitable for him. There had been plenty of ladies who had eyed him over the years. You had watched them flutter their eyelashes while watching him train with his men in the courtyard. While most of the higher-born ladies stuck to Prince Micheal’s side, the ladies in waiting and other head maids had swooned over the Knights of Galanta.

“Of course, farewell, Lady Y/N.” Steve takes your hand, raising your knuckles to his lips in a quick kiss. You try to keep your face neutral as he bows, offering him a small nod before you escape the dining hall for the night. You needed to visit your mother before you slept.

—

They called your mother’s sickness Delirium.

At first, they had worried that your mother had brought the plague to Haiford when she grew sick, but the symptoms were different. The plague had started as a small fever, which then quickly spiraled into violent vomiting until the victim could no longer keep down food or water. The victim would slip away, an empty husk of themselves. No matter all the cures tried, rituals performed, and prayers said, no one survived. They would go from a picture of health to a corpse within a matter of days. It was sudden and brutal. You didn’t know if you preferred it that way. You didn’t know if watching your mother slowly waste away the past few years was worse. In some ways, it would be a relief to see the end of her suffering. It would be hard to mourn, as it felt as if you already had. Delirium was cruel, worse than the plague that had taken Faliene. Delirium taunted its victims, infecting their minds until their thoughts were crazed and jumbled. It was a disease that stripped a person of all their dignity; they were dead long before they took their last breath. If anything, death was a mercy.

Delirium started with forgetting things like names, birthdays, or getting lost in their own home. The symptoms were slow-moving, like a deadly, invisible poison. By the time it was recognized, it was too late. Your mother had forgotten your name and your face years ago. Still, you visited her every night. You watched as the seizures shook her body, with her ladies having to hold her down to stop her from hurting herself. You watched as she sweated through relentless fevers, fearing that she would slip away in the night. The disease was relentless, yet it would not let her escape from its grasp. Tormented by nightmares and fear, your mother would scream and weep all through the night. She would treat you as a stranger, threaten you, and throw things across the room. Yet still, you tried. You would read to her, brush her hair, and stroke her back as she sobbed.

“Lady Y/N,” A voice called, drawing you from your thoughts. You stood outside the doors of your mother's chambers, your chest heaving with every breath. You didn’t get startled easily, no, not anymore. It was, however, too distressing for you to witness hearing your mother scream and shout as she was restrained by her ladies maids and the healers. It shook you to your core, a feeling of restlessness settling over your body as you held in hysteria.

“Your Majesty,” You gasp out, now realizing King Harrison stood across from you. One of the healers must have informed him, or maybe he had heard the screaming. His chamber was not too far from your mother's. They slept separately, for obvious reasons. Despite your mother’s marriage to him being a loveless, political action, King Harrison did seem to care. You had witnessed him visiting her from time to time. He had been so deeply broken by the death of his first wife, much like your mother had been over your father’s death. You wonder if the two of them had bonded over the tragedy in the short time they had together. Had King Harrison been relieved that she had become sick before he truly got to know her? Or had he been upset that he was left with a wife who could not bear him an heir and now had to handle her outspoken daughter? You would never know.

You move to curtsy for him, but he waves you off with the flick of his hand. Your teeth find the tip of your tongue as you try to hold back your surprise. Even if King Harrison cared for some of those around him, he had never particularly cared for you. You had never held it against him or expected it of him. Even if you were his daughter-in-law, he treated you as just another lady in his court. He had let you run wild throughout your teenage years and run circles around the Knights of Galanta, but it seemed that the fun was over. It had only been a few weeks since he announced he expected you to find a husband and leave the castle. You were of age; it made sense. The only ties you had left here was your mother, and she was only holding together by a thread.

King Harrison had been open about his disinterest in helping Faliene beyond what he had already done. He had never offered to send money or men after your mother grew too sick to ask. No, the way he would help would be by blessing your marriage to the nearest lord who would take you. A part of you despised him for it. Rather than face his failures before the people of Faliene, he would bury them. It wasn’t unknown to you that the people of Haiford Court hoped you would settle down once you were married. You were outspoken and too intelligent for your own good.

“Do not trouble yourself.” King Harrison sighs. Reaching into his coat, he hands you a small silken handkerchief. “For your face.” He explains.

You gulp, trying not to flush in embarrassment. Your mother, before her episode, had kindly coughed blood all over your face and dress. In your panic, you had completely forgotten to wipe it from your skin. You utter a quiet ‘thank you’ as you wipe some of the blood from your face, though some of it has already dried and crusted. You would have to return to your chambers and scrub it off with a wet cloth.

“The healers say the blood is the last stage of Delirium.” King Harrison muses as you busy yourself with the handkerchief. “They do not expect her to make it through the winter.”

There is a long pause as you ball the handkerchief up in your fist with a small sigh. You don’t know how to respond; instead, instead nodding wordlessly. His mustache twitches slightly, like he’s anticipating that you would explode into tears. You felt beyond mourning at this point; rather, you felt that you were staring your own death in the face.

“You must marry soon, once she passes, you won’t be able to remain at court.” The King reminds you. It was cruel; it truly was. You roll your tongue over your bottom lip in thought. You were well-known for making snide remarks and hidden insults without a care. You couldn’t let that beast take over in front of King Harrison. He could easily have your head.

“Yes. Of course. I am grateful that you are able to introduce me to Lord Rumlow.” You say, forcing yourself to smile at the man. Inside, you did not feel happy; you felt absolutely powerless.

“I have been in communication with a few more Lords who are… sympathetic to your situation. Provided The Galanta Season goes well, you should be married by spring.” King Harrison continues, and you try to stay present and ignore the dread creeping in your stomach. Sympathetic.

You had done the math quickly years ago, looking at all of the available men in Haiford. Any man who would dare offer to help Faliene were either already married or would be uninterested in you. The war had been a distraction from your impending doom, in the hope that maybe some new, gallant men might be awarded lordships for their efforts. It had proven to be wishful thinking. The reality was that no one cared. You could either marry to secure yourself or return to Faliene penniless and waste away with the last of your people, unable to properly help them due to your gender.

“Thank you for all your help and hospitality, Your Majesty.” You say, trying to keep the bitterness from your tone.

“Of course. I only warn you that during the season you should keep your distance from Sir Rogers. I am aware you two are… acquaintances of a type. I would hate for the Lords asking for your hand to get the wrong impression.” The King’s words feel like a punch to the gut. You know what he is implying. He was implying that Steve was not a suitable match, not because he did not meet your qualifications of having money and land, but because you were too lowly for him. King Harrison did not believe a gallant knight such as Steve deserved to be rewarded with a wife such as yourself. The other lords think the same. They would see you interact with him and assume you were some kind of fling or mistress – a tainted woman. If you thought your options were low now, the implications that you weren’t a virgin would make them even lower.

“I understand.” You say, defeatedly.

“I am glad you understand. I expect Sir Rogers will understand as well. It is a shame, your situation. The two of you would have made a handsome couple.” King Harrison is either completely aware of his cruelty or completely oblivious. You can’t tell. Either way, the comment leaves you winded. Maybe you do despise him, despite all he has done for you. His face is neutral as he steps towards the ajar doors in your mother's chambers. Your mother has settled now; the screaming has turned to soft wailing and sobs.

“I feel it is best I do not dwell on such thoughts, Your Majesty. I understand my position.” You choke out, trying to keep your voice impartial despite the resentment stinging on your tongue.

“You are a smart woman, Lady Y/N. You will do well if you are also agreeable. I shall bid you goodnight now.” King Harrison says with a smile, pushing open the doors to walk through. You hold your face still, not reacting to the obvious insult. You will do well if you are also agreeable.

“Yes, thank you again. Goodnight, Your Majesty.” You mutter as he slips into your mother’s chambers. You quickly leave, heading to your own rooms, before you consider becoming disagreeable.

chapter two

185 notes · View notes

i-drink-and-i-write-fics · 1 year

Text

Year In Review

I posted 807 times in 2022

140 posts created (17%)

667 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@themerriweathermage

@i-drink-and-i-write-fics

@tallulahchanel

@tolkienblackgirl

@cohmac-vitus

I tagged 275 of my posts in 2022

#sleepover celebration - 51 posts

#ask a mutant - 45 posts

#original female character - 36 posts

#sleepover thirst - 33 posts

#timeless warrior - 31 posts

#elrond - 26 posts

#lotr - 26 posts

#all my mutants in a queue - 25 posts

#lord of the rings - 23 posts

#fanfic - 22 posts

Longest Tag: 82 characters

#but if i was on my period i'd end them before they sat down bc hunger and hormones

(Soooo.....that is not even one of mine. Tumblr grabbed a tag no doubt from a post I reblogged as my longest tag 🤦‍♀️😂)

My Top Posts in 2022:

Update

Hey all! My stories are slow to come out right now due to me having Covid. I have the vaccines and booster, so now I just need to ride it out.

Thank you for your patience.

💙 Marvelous Mutant

26 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

Just A Moment In Time

Everett Ross x Black Fem!Reader - Unknown Chapters

Work Summary: Sequel to Agent or Princess, part 2 of Royal Agency. Reader and Everett need a vacation. So they leave to see Reader’s family in Wakanda, where Reader has a happy surprise waiting for Everett.

Requested by @tallulahchanel (she also did the amazing mood board!)

Chapter 1: Time Away

Summary: Reader convinces Everett that they need a vacation. So they go to a country that has already welcomed them with open arms.

Notes: umhlobo = friend

Hopefully, I got the write translation. Please let me know if I need to fix it.

“Everett, please! We need this!”

“We just went on vacation!”

You threw your hands in the air. “Two years ago after I first moved in! We are long overdue.”

Everett signed and looked up from his desk. You had come into your shared office to approach the idea of getting away. Needless to say, it wasn’t going well.

“What’s going on, ___? I’ve never seen you this wound up before.”

You sighed as you moved closer to his desk. “I- I’ve been feeling buried at work lately. The Avengers are doing what they can with how few of them there are and I almost feel like I live at the compound. And you’ve been working overtime with the new recruits. We barely even have date nights anymore, Ev.”

He ran his hands over his face before sitting back in his chair. “You’re right. You’re right. We live under the same roof and yet it seems like we see each other less.”

Smiling, you walked around his desk and sat on the edge next to his chair. “Which is why we need to get away. Let Robins train the new agents.”

See the full post

26 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

Hello! May I request a fic of fem!Reader being married to Ser Jorah Mormont (like after his divorce from Lynesse Hightower, fem!Reader and Jorah fall in love and get married) and Reader is as devoted and loving to Jorah and he is to her no matter the trials they go through (I just want some fluff)?

I just love writing for Jorah. This is a little short, but hopefully I can write more for him soon (outside of Queen’s Guard, lol!)

The Bear and the Maiden Fair: Jorah Mormont x Fem!Reader

Jorah never thought he would see the day, when he could be happy again. But here he was...with you. He can barely remember when you met, but the how stands out: Khaleesi.

It was so long ago, in the Western Market of Vaes Dothrak, that he first saw you. The Western Market was not one he had frequented as the traders were from lands such as Yi Ti, Qarth, and Asshai. The latter where you had hailed from. But Daenerys was curious about the food and wine you were selling and so often she went, dragging her Bear along.

When you first laid eyes on Jorah, you were struck by how handsome he was, and Daenerys noticed that. So she asked questions about where you were from for Jorah. But Asshai was a mysterious land that few in Westeros and Essos knew about. And at first, you didn’t want to fill in the gaps of knowledge, afraid it would chase the Bear off.

But Jorah provided to be far more stubborn than you realized. Almost more than you were. And Daenerys could see it. She wanted her longest supporter to be happy and so she would frequent the Western Market. Which meant Jorah frequented as well, wanting to protect her while Khal Drogo was gone hunting.

It wasn’t long before you and the Bear became close. You were the one who convinced Jorah to be honest with Daenerys. You were the one who talked Drogo down from killing him once the truth came out, explaining why Jorah did what he did and how he wasn’t the same man any more. You were the one who stood by his side to protect Daenerys from her brother, Viserys.

And when the khalasar left Vaes Dothrak, you were by his side. Wanting to see more of the world west of the Dothraki sea. So of course, Daenerys did all she could to push you two together.

Now, you were the lady to the Master of Laws, living with Jorah inside the Red Keep. The wars were a blur, but now the realm was united under a dragon banner once again.

“What is on that mind of yours, my love?”

Jorah turned at your voice, not able to help the smile that crossed his face. You were in a red gown trimmed in black. Since Jorah could no longer be the Lord of Bear Island, Daenerys had declared you both were her family and now dawned the colors of House Targaryen. And perhaps he was bias, but they looked good on you.

“I was merely thinking how incredibly lucky I was that our queen insisted on visiting the Western Market back in Vaes Dothrak,” his gravely voice was always comforting to you.

You smiled. “Lucky, indeed. Anyone else would have steered clear of our mysterious wares.”

Jorah chuckled as he pulled you close. “Very little would scare our queen away.”

“You, as well, it seems. The mysterious lady from the Shadow Lands of Asshai didn’t fighten the Bear of Westeros.”

“Never,” he leaned down to kiss your lips. Jorah couldn’t remember a time he was this happy and would do whatever it took to keep it.

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@itsafansworld07

@that-chick212

@keetnerj01

@liadamerondjarin

Jorah Mormont

@harpers-ramblings

@of-stars-and-pens

Requested

@groovy-lady

43 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

of course, LOTR/TH men... elves... and men

Aragorn

Faramir

See the full post

47 notes - Posted June 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Gandalf’s Visitors

Lord Elrond x Fem!Reader - One-Shot

Summary: Gandalf comes to Imladris with a Company of thirteen Dwarves and a scared-looking Hobbit. Elrond’s wife, the reader, tries to bring peace between the two groups during dinner.

Requested by @middleearthsweetheart

Notes: as mentioned before, all stories will now be links to AO3

Story here!

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@itsafansworld07

@that-chick212

@keetnerj01

@liadamerondjarin

Elrond

@themerriweathermage

@theyeetedsoul

@awkwardkindatries

59 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #why couldn't I do this on mobile?

9 notes · View notes

paycly0 · 5 months

Text

Empowering Transactions: Paycly - Malaysia's Super Fast and Secure Payment Gateway Provider

In the dynamic landscape of e-commerce and online transactions, the role of a reliable payment gateway cannot be overstated. Businesses, especially in the thriving market of Malaysia, are constantly seeking a payment solution that is not only super-fast but also fortified with top-notch security features. Enter Paycly – the epitome of efficiency and security in the realm of payment gateway providers in Malaysia.

The Need for Speed: Paycly's Swift Solutions

In the fast-paced world of online business, every second counts. Recognizing the urgency and importance of swift transactions, Paycly stands out as a beacon of speed. Credit card processing in Malaysia has never been this efficient. With state-of-the-art technology and a robust infrastructure, Paycly ensures that transactions are processed at lightning speed, reducing wait times and optimizing the overall user experience.

For businesses engaged in Forex trading, where time-sensitive transactions are the norm, Paycly's credit card payment processing solutions provide a competitive edge. The platform's high-speed processing capabilities ensure that Forex traders can execute transactions seamlessly, facilitating a smooth and efficient trading experience.

Unparalleled Security: Fortifying Trust in Online Transactions

As the digital landscape expands, so do the challenges of ensuring secure online transactions. Paycly takes this responsibility seriously and has implemented rigorous security measures to safeguard the financial interests of its users. The credit card payment processing for Forex trading offered by Paycly is fortified with advanced encryption and fraud detection tools, providing a secure environment for traders to conduct their business without worrying about potential threats.

One of Paycly's unique selling propositions (USPs) is its impeccable track record of serving thousands of happy customers. This is a testament to the platform's commitment to security and reliability. The trust bestowed upon Paycly by its extensive user base is a reflection of the platform's unwavering dedication to providing a secure and trustworthy payment gateway for businesses in Malaysia.

Customer Support Beyond Expectations: 24 x 7 Assistance

In the realm of online transactions, the importance of reliable customer support cannot be overstated. Paycly distinguishes itself by offering round-the-clock customer support, ensuring that businesses never face a moment of uncertainty or downtime. The platform understands that issues can arise at any time, and having a dedicated support team available 24 x 7 is a crucial aspect of its commitment to customer satisfaction.

Whether businesses are navigating through credit card processing in Malaysia or seeking assistance with online credit card processing, Paycly's support team is ready to address queries and concerns promptly. This personalized approach to customer support adds a human touch to the technological landscape, making Paycly a partner that businesses can rely on.

The Human Element: Beyond Technology

While Paycly is undoubtedly a technological marvel, it goes beyond mere algorithms and encryption. The platform places a strong emphasis on the human element, understanding that behind every transaction, there is a business striving to succeed. This understanding is reflected in Paycly's commitment to providing not just a service but a partnership – a partnership that empowers businesses to thrive in the digital era.

The thousands of happy customers that Paycly boasts are not just statistics; they are testimonials to the platform's ability to connect with businesses on a personal level. Paycly's success is intertwined with the success of its users, making it a trusted ally for businesses navigating the complexities of online payment processing.

Conclusion: Paycly - Pioneering the Future of Online Payments

In conclusion, Paycly emerges as a trailblazer in the Malaysian payment gateway landscape. With its super-fast processing capabilities, robust security features, and unwavering commitment to customer satisfaction, Paycly stands tall as the go-to solution for businesses seeking a reliable and efficient payment gateway.

As the digital economy continues to evolve, businesses need a partner that not only keeps up with technological advancements but also understands the human aspect of transactions. Paycly strikes the perfect balance, making it a formidable force in the realm of credit card processing in Malaysia and online credit card processing for Forex trading. In choosing Paycly, businesses aren't just choosing a payment gateway; they are choosing a pathway to success in the digital age. Visit us at: Accept payments online in Malaysia Originally published on: Sites Google Blog

0 notes

fever-fish · 1 year

Text

in august 2019, i started recording every movie / tv series or season i watched to completion.

faves in bold

2020 year in review

tonari no kaibutsu-kun

marriage story

the king (the one with rpatts)

dolemite is my name

the gift / atiye s1

sex education s2

psychopath diary

american factory

miss americana

hot stove league

kingdom s2 (zombie sageuk)

emma. (period movie with the queen’s gambit actress)

i am not okay with this s1

history 2: boundary crossing

the breadwinner

hyena (kdrama)

hi bye, mama!

the half of it

the letter for the king s1

we the animals

black dog (kdrama)

never have i ever s1

tharntype

the romance of tiger and rose

queer eye s5

unorthodox

girl from nowhere s1

the old guard

a secret love

he’s coming to me

dakara watashi wa oshimashita

hospital playlist s1

a piece of your mind

the untamed

365: repeat the year

the trader

disclosure (documentary)

money game (kdrama)

mystic pop-up bar

someday or one day

kazoku no katachi

imperial dreams

american murder: the family next door

schitt’s creek s6

enola holmes

13th

josei-teki seikatsu

blackpink: light up the sky

the white helmets

the duchess s1

extracurricular

the queen’s gambit

athlete a

gaya sa pelikula

i told sunset about you

over the moon

flower of evil

joy of life (cdrama)

the burial of kojo

into the ring (kdrama)

saka no tochuu no ie

2021 year in review

farewell my concubine

the good place s3

cherry magic (jdrama)

nigehaji special

i am not your negro

feel good s1

his (jmovie)

life senjou no bokura

watashitachi wa doukashiteiru

nagi no oitoma

pornographer

shanai marriage honey

run on

long vacation

sf8: joan’s galaxy

to my star s1

find me in your memory

hikaru no go (cdrama)

a tale of a thousand stars

goodbye my princess

waiting for “superman”

uchi no musume wa, kareshi ga dekinai!!

word of honor

stranger / secret forest s2

the imperial coroner

bo burnham: inside

love and redemption

the square (documentary)

big eden

alice in borderland

the green knight (First movie In Theaters since Covid)

ashes of love

watashi wo kuitomete

doom at your service

hunter x hunter s1, s2, s3, s4

shang-chi and the legend of the ten rings

young royals s1

you are my glory

squid game s1

kimi no me ga toikaketeiru

kikazaru koi niwa riyuu ga atte

journey to the shore

one and only (cdrama)

what we do in the shadows s2

eternals (marvel.....)

single all the way

the witcher s2

spider-man: no way home

scarlet heart (cdrama)

utsukushii kare

0 notes

the-gershomite · 3 years

Photo

Marvel Topps digital collector cards. X-Men series.

#marvel #x-men #topps trader #angel #cable #collosus #cyclops #danger #dazzler #emma frost #havok #jean grey #juggernaut #collector cards

47 notes · View notes

queenofspades6 · 2 years

Text

New Haircut – Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Stephen Strange broke your heart to protect you from himself, but when you leave the Sanctum without a word, he realised his mistake, but you’re gone… are you really?

Pairings: Stephen Strange x Reader.

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff and angst.

Author Note: Hi! I just had a new haircut, and I thought ‘what if I wrote a fic with trader having a new haircut, and Stephen Strange’. I hope you’ll like it! Feel free to like, comment and reblog my work, I am forever grateful for the support!

Want more Marvel? It’s here.

———

Being Stephen Strange’s apprentice and also an Avenger wasn’t always easy. With the death of Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers, you couldn’t keep living in the Avenger Tower. Stephen Strange had always been of your deepest friends, and watching your distress, he asked you if you would love to learn the Mystic Arts. Without a second thought, you said yes.

And here you were, being his apprentice. There was always a spark of attractiveness, a spark of ‘something more’ between Stephen and you, but at the time he was with Christine, and then, he couldn’t let her go. However, with your stay at the Sanctum, everything changed. You were taught the Mystic Arts by several Masters, and obviously Stephen was your favorite. He was always spending more time to you, throwing you small glances when you were training, and always helping you practice after. To say you were in love with Stephen Strange was an understatement. But when you tried to tell him how you felt, Stephen almost rejected you. Not directly of course, but it still hurt. You could remember this night like it was yesterday.

“Stephen? Can we talk?”

He was sitting on the rooftop looking at the sun slowly retreating himself.

“About what?”He answered.

“About what I feel, how I feel towards you.”

His gaze was fixed on you, admiring your features, and how your brows were furrowed, scarily waiting for his answer. He took a deep breath before answering.

“We can’t.”

“What?”

“ I-I… You, and me, we can’t.”He repeated, not daring to look at you.

“And why’s that?”You questioned, your hands on your hips, anger rising in you.

“You know why.”

“I don’t. But what I know is how infuriating you can be sometimes, Stephen!”

His fists clenched, and his gaze remained on the ground.

“There’s Christine.”He spat, without looking at your face.”I still care for her.”

And with these words, your heart broke. He was still in love with Christine, probably in every universe, and there was nothing you could do about it. It was just meant to be.

So, you did what you did best. Fleeing. You left the Sanctum for a month, leaving a small note to Wong and Strange.

“I’ll come back.”

And you left.

Stephen spent weeks trying to understand what he did wrong, what led you to leave. He knew deep down; he was the one responsible. Lately, he had been cold with you, making you think he didn’t really care. And he remembered the conversation you had with him before leaving. You tried to confess, and even if he didn’t want to, he rejected you. It was easier for him to reject you, than love you. He was terrified of hurting you, and ruin everything. But while trying to protect you of himself, he lost you, and he couldn’t forgive himself.

‘What if she doesn’t come back?’Stephen asked himself every night. ‘What if she’s dead?’ So many ‘What if’ without any answer. It was driving him mad. He knew if you had left, it was for a good reason, and he had no right to look for you. He couldn’t. And he waited. Days after days, transforming into weeks. He was losing hope, every day telling himself ‘one more day, and I’ll look for her’ but he never did.

“Don’t go looking for her, Stephen.”Wong told him once in an authoritarian tone.

“What if she’s hurt? Or worse, what if she’s been kidnapped?”

“She’s not. Don’t forget who she is. She is not a child; she can handle herself without you.”

“But-“

“No, but, Strange. You didn’t lose her. Not yet.”Wong spilled.

“Not yet?”

“Nobody’s irreplaceable, Strange, and if you don’t say what you feel to Y/N, she’ll move on. She’s not gonna wait forever.”

Stephen Strange nodded. Wong was right. He needed to face his fears, once and for good.

*****

And one day, when he didn’t expect you the most, you entered the Sanctum, a huge smile on your face and a new haircut. Instead of your long brown hair, he found you with a square cut. You had left the Sanctum’s robes for a lighter outfit, a skirt and a t-shirt. When Stephen saw you, he couldn’t ignore your white aura lightening the room. He smiled.

You had finally returned.

He approached you with a sudden shyness.

“Y/N.”He murmured, almost like a prayer.

“Stephen.”You smiled.

“You look-“

“Beautiful? Brilliant? I know.”

A smile escaped his lips.

“I was going to say different, but that works too.”

“I needed some change. I needed to find myself.”You whispered, smiling shyly.

“I know, he replied, I am sorry.”

You frowned.

“You don’t need to be. Now I know how you feel. I am glad you told me.”

“Y/N-“Stephen tried to say.

“Let me finish, Stephen.”

He glanced at you and nodded.

“It was hard at first, but I am glad I know the truth. Better the truth than a sweet lie. And I needed to lose you to love me. Don’t apologize.”

Stephen saw the hurt on your face, and he hated himself for that. He wanted to protect you, and he failed. Because he lied to you, he destroyed you. ‘And what if I try?’He asked himself, fearing the answer.

“Stephen? Do you hear me? If you don’t wanna see me again, I’ll leave. Just say the word.”You bluttered, tears stinging in your eyes.

“Y/N! Listen to me.”

You didn’t want to, you wanted to flee again, and never return, but you had changed, and that new haircut gave you confidence.

“I am sorry I hurt you.”Stephen muttered.”I am scared, Y/N. I am terrified that if I let myself love you, I’ll hurt you.”

He took a deep breath, before looking right into your eyes.

“I lied when I told you I still loved Christine. I don’t. She’s happy, and I understood I wasn’t the one for her. And now, I am scared, I’ll hurt you too, Y/N, if I let myself love you.”

Tears were running down your cheeks, and Stephen was looking for your hands. He grabbed your hands and caressed them slowly.

“But what if it works, Stephen? What if you take the chance? Because if you don’t, you’ll never know the answer.”

He caught one tear falling on your cheek and wiped it with his hand.

“Love can hurt, Stephen Strange, but with the right person, it’s worth it.”You declared, a new spark of hope in your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. Deeply. Sincerely. Universally. I won’t lie to you, I am scared I am not good enough for you, but without you gone for a month, i know I want to try. I need to try. I can’t ask myself everyday ‘what if she was with me?’."

You sobbed. It was too much to process right now.

“Y/N, be with me, you won’t regret it, I promise.”

You approached him, and he took some shy steps towards you. His hand touched your face and lingered on your cheek where the tears were falling, and then on your lips, where he had dreamed of kissing you. His lips were dangerously close, and you couldn’t say no to the feeling in your stomach. You kissed him. His lips were intertwined with yours in a passionate kiss, and his hands were rested on your back.

“Be with me.”He declared, almost like an order.

“I will.”

Stephen Strange smiled, and you swore you saw some tears in the corner of his eyes.

In Stephen’s arms, you smiled, and laughed.

“What is it?”He questioned.

“It’s my new haircut that made you change your mind?”You asked in answer, still laughing in his neck.

“Definitely.”

It was definitely because of the haircut.

Definitely.

———

Want more fanfictions? You might like this one:

405 notes · View notes

docgold13 · 2 years

Photo

365 Marvel Comics Paper Cut-Out SuperHeroes - One Hero, Every Day, All Year…

May 23rd - Dust

Sooraya Qadir is a young Mutant who was born in Kandahar, Afghanistan. She discovered in her youth that she possesses the X-gene and was bestowed the ability to transform her body into a pliable cloud of dust-like particles. She can control these particles with great precision, allowing her a degree of shapeshifting, a great resilience to injury and the capability to generate waves of dust that have both defensive and offensive capacities.

One day the young woman was accosted by a would-be slave trader who attempted to abduct her and tore off her traditional niqāb. Instinctively, Sooraya lashed out with her powers, creating a torrent of sand-like dust that effectively flayed her attacker.

Accused of murder, Sooraya was rescued by the X-Men who were alerted to her plight by way of Cerebro. Not seeing much choice in the matter, Sooraya accepted the X-Men’s offer for her to relocate to the United States and enroll in the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. She took on the alias of Dust and trained to better control her powers alongside her fellow young Mutants. It took her some time to adjust to the very new world of super heroes; she was especially taken aback by the immodest nature of her colleagues’ tight-fitting costumes. Still, her fellow students came to accept her regardless of her differences and so too did she become accepting of them.

After numerous adventures alongside the X-Men, Dust decided not to become a citizen of the Mutant nation of Krakoa, choosing instead to act as a member of the young superhero team known as The Champions.

Dust first appeared in the pages of New X-Men Vol. 1 #133 (2002).

#365 Marvel Comics Heroes #Dust #X-Men #Academy X #Champions #cut-out #paper art

72 notes · View notes

boxofbonesfic · 3 years

Text

Bright like Bone

Pairing: Azog x OFC

Summary: “No Gods here. But you can pray to me if you like, fuckmeat.” Reanna theorizes the Orcs are beings of pure hunger. Insatiable.

Warnings: NonCon/Dubious Consent, Prisoner, Stockholm Syndrome, a light sprinkling of trauma, Violence (not very graphic, but described), Breeding/impregnation kink

A/N: So uh... I know I normally write for marvel, but this one has been sitting in the drafts for way too long. Also, thanks to @punemy-spotted for bullying me encouraging me to post this! It’s a three parter, so settle in! Parts 1 and 2 are finished, but 3 is still knocking around in my skull somewhere. Orcish translations are at the bottom of the fic in bold!

This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! Minors, DNI! 😘 💀

“Wake up, meat.”

Reanna of course, was already awake. She hadn’t slept in days, not since the raid. How could she? The screams made it almost impossible. Her hands ached from the rough rope tied tightly about her wrists, and her back was rubbed raw from the bark of the tree she’d been imprisoned against. Her ankles were bound as well, though she couldn’t see them under the muddy, torn remnants of her dress.

She looked up, though her mass of curly, black hair to fix the Orc with a cold stare. Her vision was slightly blurry, and her left eye was still swollen and bruised from where she’d been hit. He seemed nonplussed at her anger—there was little she could do other than glare hatefully at him, she hadn’t even been able to defend herself when they’d crept into the camp as everyone had slept, slitting their throats clean and quiet in the cold night.

The road was supposed to be safe—was supposed to be well guarded, but only a week into their journey their caravan had been attacked. Raided. Reanna herself was still in disbelief. Orcs didn’t come this far west. They never did—and yet here she was, bruised and bound, waiting to be eaten.

Or worse.

The Orc kicked at her feet, a harsh laugh bubbling up out of his chest. He stepped forward, his roughshod boots sinking into the mud as he squatted down. He reached out to grasp her chin between his filthy fingers as he forced her to look up at him. His breath was rank, puffing across her cheeks as he spoke.

“Kulknej liwo brogat lat ve asht, maush.” He spat the words at her, flecks of spittle landing on her cheeks. The Orc released her face with a harsh jerk. Reanna didn’t understand him, but she knew a threat when she heard one. “The commander is coming to speak with you.”

The commander? Their leader? Reanna swallowed thickly. Perhaps this was why they’d kept her alive—information.

Perhaps they would make her death quick when they realized she knew nothing. The daughter of traders, Reanna knew precious little of the movements of the great kingdoms. She scoffed. The great roads were meant to be safe—not beset by Orc packs. Whatever information they thought Reanna had, it was clearly outdated.

The Orc kicked at her bound legs as he walked back toward the camp. She couldn’t see it, of course, she’d been tied behind a large tree, with only the sight of the great forest beyond to offer comfort. It didn’t offer much, of course, as it loomed darkly over her, but it was better than staring at the Orc camp, watching them fight amongst themselves for the scraps of what remained of her companions.

“Hello, meat.” The voice that met her ears was deep, rumbling lowly in her ears. Reanna didn’t have to raise her eyes to know who was addressing her now. She’d only seen him briefly in the raid, just before something hard and heavy had slammed against her temple, leaving her drowning in the dark. A tall pale Orc, one armed, with bright blue eyes stood over her, delicate and intentional patterned scars running across his flesh. He stood a full head taller than any man she had ever met, and Reanna knew without even considering it that he could probably best any of them in combat easily, without even trying. Muscles rippled and moved smoothly as he squatted down to regard her. He reached forward to brush a few strands of her curly hair away from her face, and Reanna flinched, turning her head to snap at his hand.

Her teeth met only air, and clicked hard together as he pulled back, laughing. “Kigiji maush has nak shal khe.” Reanna could hear the guttural sound of the other Orc laughing. “You will tell me what you know of Gondor.” His words are slow, as though he has all the time in the world to speak them. His common is strangely accented, and though she understands the tongue, it still takes a moment for her mind to decode his words.

“I know nothing of Gondor.” Her voice is raspy from disuse. “We are merchants.” Reanna paused, her nose wrinkling. “Were.” She spits, her lips pursing. His face remains almost expressionless, her vitriol completely meaningless.

“Do they guard the western border?” He spoke as though she hadn’t answered him, rolling a few strands of her hair between his thick fingers. “Or do they trust the horse lords to do it for them?” Reanna could hear the calculating smugness in his tone.

“If the eastern border was well patrolled, you filth would never have come this far west.” She spat, unable to help herself. He laughed at her insult, deep chuckles that vibrated in her bones. He cupped her chin, gentler than the other Orc, but no less menacing as he forced her to look at him.

“And the dwarves you traded with?” His voice is especially quiet, though his fingers bite hard against her skin, digging in and bruising. He wouldn’t let her look away, his ice blue eyes locked onto hers, boring down deep. Reanna hadn’t even seen them—only heard the others as they bargained with the shrewd bunch of travellers. And she had thought no more about it, not until now. “The dwarves. You traded with them just two days past. Tell me!” He growled, and Reanna flinched.

“I don’t—I—” He raised the stump of his arm to her throat, pressing it against her windpipe as he leaned hard, cutting off her air, and her excuses.

“Speak, meat.”

“East.” Her voice cracks as he presses harder. “They went East! To the woods!”

He releases her, a small smile creeping across his pale features. “Good.” He’s practically purring. “Good.”

“Can we eat it now?” Reanna had all but forgotten the other Orc, who’d remained mostly silent as the other questioned her. Reanna felt fear settle in her belly like iron. Of course they would eat her now. “I mean no offense, Azog.” The pale Orc turned at the sound of his name, an irritated glare on his face.

Azog.

“You hunger?” He asked, turning from Reanna. She was grateful to no longer be the focus of his attentions, and she coughed, sputtering as she swallowed lungful after lungful of crisp, evening air. “Dez!” His harsh, deep voice rang out, echoing off of the trees. Almost immediately, Reanna could hear the howls and barks of wargs, answering his call.

For a moment, she wondered if she had imagined it, but then through the brush, she saw the gleam of an eye, an ear, a tail… They emerged from the woods one after the other, giant, slavering beasts with bright, intelligent eyes. The largest of which was white, like him. It circled around them, growling and snapping at the cowering Orc.

“Hunger no more.” Azog sneered. There was a crude iron spike shoved through the remains of his other arm, and he pointed it at the smaller Orc. “Ha!” The order had left his lips only a moment before the wargs converged in a teeming pile of fur and teeth, devouring the Orc’s screams as they swallowed his flesh.

Reanna closed her eyes, but she knew she would hear this in her dreams often. The sound of wet crunching, of teeth rending meat from bone. She could hear the frenzied yips of the wargs as they ate, snapping and growling at one another as they fought for the remains. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there with her eyes screwed tightly shut, the sounds of ripping and tearing replaying endlessly in her mind.

She could still hear them when the ropes loosened, falling around her. Reanna opened her eyes in time to see Azog carelessly lift the hem of her dress to tug at the ones that bound her ankles as well.

“Come.”

Translations:

We will gnaw your bones to meal, meat : “Kulknej liwo brogat lat ve asht, maush.”

This meat still has fight in it: “Kigiji maush has nak shal khe.”

Come: “Dez!”

Eat: “Ha!”

#lotr fic #hobbit fic #azog the defiler x ofc #azog x ofc #god i’m so hot for orcs #smut #the hobbit fic #lord of the rings fanfiction #Boxofbonesfic #Bright like bone fic

249 notes · View notes

buryustogether · 3 years

Text

SOLDIER NO MORE - P.1

part one - the stranger from the sky

summary : a starship crashes in the fields beyond your village’s borders, causing a horrified curiosity to befall the locals. being the only one brave enough to venture close, you discover the pilot is an unconscious clone trooper - who doesn’t seem to be quite like the rest.

word count : 3k

warnings : hunter x f!reader, mentions of young children/babies, vehicular violence, mentions of empire cruelty/order 66

author’s note : *chuckling nervously* no, this entire fic totally WASN’T inspired by that one episode of the mandalorian, what are you talking about,, this is going to be a (mostly) domestic hunter fic, but later on it will contain smut, violence, so on and so forth. lots of fluff :)

The first to notice the falling ship were the children.

Suppertime had only just befallen across your small corner of Sorgan, the evening’s darkness soon to follow the water-colored horizon stretching beyond the countless trees that surrounded your village. The standing torches illuminated the faces of farmers and caretakers - for that’s what you were, a simple cropping community - as they collected their share of dinner and settled to rest from another day’s work. Younglings giggled with the delight of children that had not yet learned of the galaxy’s harshness as they chased one another between the legs of their parents, near the perimeters of the village. Their guardians called out to them to stay away from the fence that separated your land against the unknown of the dark forests and swamps beyond; if one stayed with the light, they would not wander from safety.

Your limbs ached tiredly as you sat with a small circle of fellow villagers to eat, but it was a drawn-out hurt that you had come to welcome. The seeping of tiredness into your bones was only an echo, a reminder of the service to your own that you had performed that day. Because of your efforts, everyone would be able to eat tomorrow, and the day after that; your traders would be able to barter and sell your wares, and bring back new resources so that you may do it all over again.

It was a quiet life, the one you lived here on Sorgan, but it was good and honest. And that’s what drew those who searched, and kept them here.

You had just begun to raise the spoonful of bone broth to your lips, stomach already crying out for the hot meal before you, when the shrieking hollers of the children caught your attention. They had all gathered at the edge of your perimeters, murmuring and pointing upwards at the red-and-orange sky above you. Along with a few others, you followed their gazes, and found just what they were marveling at.

A small starship had entered the view of the village, leaving behind itself a hot, grey tail of smoke that resembled angry clouds. A number of villagers stood, including yourself, as you watched the shuttle hurtle towards the ground like a plummeting star. Parents grabbed their children and ushered them inside. You yourself took the shoulder of a small girl in the group of children and pressed a hand to the braided mess of gold tresses atop her head, commanding her to get home. She obeyed wordlessly, though her eyes never left the crashing pod.

A small group of villagers ducked under the fencing and collectively held their breaths when the ship made contact with the earth. A smattering of dirt chunks and stone created a hailstorm of debris as the vehicle tumbled over itself in the clearing behind the community, creating a wake of destruction and rubble behind itself. You placed a hand over your mouth in horror. If there had been anyone inside, even you could tell it was unlikely they would have survived a crash like that.

None of the villagers seemed to possess enough courage to approach the now-still shuttle, which sat smoking and hissing in the swaying grasses just a ways beyond the last hut. Their expressions were painted with both terror and shock; nothing like this had ever happened even remotely near your village. What in the stars were they supposed to do?

A wave of courage washed over you like a shot of adrenaline and you turned your head to look at one of the young men that had accompanied your group of onlookers. “Yarga,” you said, your singular voice seeming to ring out for miles. “Help me. The pilot could be hurt.”

You led the not-so-willing volunteer down a gentle slope into the clearing’s vastness, at the mercy of any raider party or carnivorous beast that may have set their sights on you. He held a torch in hand as you approached the ship, the flickering light playing with shadows across your faces and throwing your shadows on the ground like wiggling paintings. Despite your sudden burst of bravery, or perhaps selflessness, you stayed close to him; even if the pilot of the vehicle was still alive, what was to say they weren’t hostile?

Upon closer inspection, you found that the starship was actually a smaller version than you had expected it to be. It was circular in nature and the wings and fin on its sides - before they had broken off, that was - were angled in a way that they could have folded in on themselves. If you were not wrong, you thought it to be an escape pod of sorts.

You and Yarga circled the shuttle to the other side, where you found the hatch door facing sideways, parallel to the ground. The hissing and popping of the ship’s various destroyed systems and engines did not go unnoticed as you learned forward and traced your fingertips across the edges of the door.

“What are you doing?” Yarga said. His stance was like that of an anxious animal, intent on fleeing if threatened in any sort of way.

You continued your feeling up of the door. “Searching for the hatch lever,” you murmured. As the words left your lips, your hand caught on a small divet in the dented metal that had not been put there from the crash. Fingernails prying against the panel, a small click reached your ears and you found the hatch giving away. The door extended outwards a few inches toward you, releasing a sighing groan, and fell forward onto the grass with a muted thud. Motioning for the light, you leaned against the hull and peered inside.

Sitting in the pilot’s seat was a person. Or, at least, something that looked like a person. It took you a double take or two to release whoever it was, was donned in metal armor that covered the entirety of their body. Your hand trembled slightly when you reached inside and tapped the helmet sitting on their head; there was no response.

You sensed that Yarga was about to say something, most likely that whoever it was had died on impact, but you beat him to it. “Help me pull them out,” you said, curling your hands around the armor’s pauldron. Wordlessly, he stuck the torch’s tail end into the soft dirt and aided you in removing the pilot from their chair and into the open air. You laid them on their back, armor staining against the ripped grass and freshly-mowed dirt, and you were able to take from the shape of the figure it was a man. His helmet nearly caused your heart to leap into your throat; he was a trooper, from the still-foreign Empire. You were unable to see behind the tinted visor, but if you brought your face close enough, you were able to hear the faint sounds of breathing coming through the voice modulator.

“Is he dead?” Yarga asked from above your kneeling form.

“No,” you replied, just as quietly, if not just as hesitantly.

It was no secret the Empire had a tighter grip on the galaxy than the Republic did before it fell. And while most of the planets along the Rims celebrated the end of the war, hailed the troopers as heroes, your village of Sorgan did not. In fact, you looked upon the disposable soldiers with a great disdain; more than once had the Jedi Order provided aid to your people in times of need, cared when no one else could be bothered with some tiny village at the edge of the Outer Rim. They had provided food and water during an unseasonal drought, had defended the innocent lives when raiders plundered the lands and watered the ground with blood. And with the Jedi now gone, with the Empire in control and clones on the rise, Sorgan was back to being nothing but another statistic on a field report.

But yet, despite your malice and rather heightened fear of the mad power they operated for, you could not help but feel something akin to sympathy for the soldier lying before you. Surely if he was alone, with nothing but an escape shuttle and nowhere to go but here, he was in some sort of trouble. Was he injured? Had he been separated from his platoon?

Despite Yarga’s words of caution, you kneeled and wiggled your fingers beneath the helmet blocking the soldier’s face from you. It gave a slight hiss as the airlock gave way and slid off his head easily.

The first thing you noticed was the strikingly bold tattoo across the right side of his face, what appeared to be half a skull giving him a rather frightening appearance. His nose was hooked and ended in a slope; his brows were thick, and parted lips were chapped and bleeding at the places they had cracked. Long, tamed locks of a deep, rich oak were held from his face by a scarlet headband that threatened to slip off; the stitched symbol of a skull stared back at you from the side.

It became apparent to you this was not a regular clone trooper. You had seen them yourself, when they had come to announce the end of the Republic to your people and you were forced to house them. He was different, from the way that his jaw was clenched, even in this state of unconsciousness, to the unusual patterns across his armor. Had he been exiled? Gone out of date? You were unable to say yourself.

Yarga at last broke the tense quiet that had fallen over you. “What do you think we should do with him?” he said, having picked up the torch to throw light upon the stranger’s face.

Your mouth remained dry and your tongue unable to work properly as you reached out and patted the clone’s cheek a few times. He did not move, but a quick feel of his pulse point told you he was, indeed, alive. “He’s most likely injured, from a crash like that,” you replied, tucking the helmet under your arm. You glanced up at the other villagers, who were still standing where you had left them. “Let us take him back for now. See what he says when he wakes up.”

It was obvious from the way he bit his lip he did not like the idea, but he kept his tongue as he grabbed the clone’s other shoulder strap after you did. Together, with a bit of effort, you began to drag him back towards the village.

When you hauled him back into view of the others, you attempted to keep your head high and expression strong when a round of gasps flew around.

“A clone trooper?” they said. “What is he doing here?”

“What if it’s a trap?” one asked.

“Are you sure he isn’t dead?” another called.

You were vaguely aware of the children watching you from their huts’ windows and open doorways as you guided Yarga to bring the man towards your own. Up the stairs you hauled him, and inside, where you found the candles had already been lit and the bed prepared. The young girl stood in the corner beside the padded cradle in which a small bundle slept, wringing her hands nervously and toying with the braids hanging from her hair.

Feeling beads of sweat forming on your hairline, you jerked your head at her and panted, “Rani. Fetch me a pail of fresh water, please. Hurry.” Silently, she disappeared from the hut and back into the village.

After a hustle of lifting the clone trooper onto your bed, you and Yarga sat back and stared down at him. It wasn’t long before he turned his head to look at you and opened his mouth to speak. “What are you thinking?” he asked, though his words contained no harshness or judgement. Yarga was a gentle soul, one who understood your own when you cared for an injured loth cat or gave up part of your own meal to toss to hungry Sorgan frogs.

If you were to be honest with yourself, you didn’t completely know how to answer his question. You knew, of course, you simply couldn’t leave the stranger out there in the crashed pod to suffocate from his own stale breath and die. But you were taking a risk bringing him here, to your home; the silent cradle in the corner reminded you of that.

Yet, there was that small, tender part of you that urged you to beat back your worries and doubts. Though, just to put both your and Yarga’s nerves at ease, you crossed the room and produced a sharp, slender knife used for skinning game from a woven basket of supplies and tools.

“He’s staying here,” you decided aloud, more to yourself than him. You hoped he was able to hear the resolution in your tone. “Tell the others it’s alright; I’ll make sure he’s safe.” The blade curled within your fingers must have proved your point, because he nodded his head, then padded from your hut and left you alone with the unconscious figure in your bed.

Casting a glance over your shoulder when, a moment later, smaller, softer footsteps clunked up the steps, you found Rani returning with a sloshing bucket of water in her small arms. Taking it from her, you set it by the bedside before rolling up your sleeves and setting to work removing the clone’s armor. It was a fairly difficult process, attempting to find buckles and release clips to wiggle off of him - all while he lay heavy and with dead weight on your cot.

The young girl took the chest plate you worked off of him and inspected the dents and scrapes that marred the red stripe down the front. “Who is he?” she murmured, mindful of the shifting bundle of blankets in the cradle.

“I’m…” You hesitated for a moment. You had never been one to keep secrets from her or fabricate lies to shield her from what was out there. So, you took a breath and continued. “I believe he’s a clone trooper. See-?” Your fingers ghosted over the Empire symbol branded on the arm of the undersuit he wore beneath the plastoid.

Rani’s fingers seemed to tighten around the arm bracer you handed her next, small hand inspecting the small, yellow-inlaid dagger she found hidden in a sleeve. “I thought the Empire was bad. That the soldiers took the Jedi from us.”

Working off the man’s boots and setting them at the foot of the bed, you quickly took the blade from her and tucked it on the highest shelf of your little hut. “They did,” you said, brows furrowing slightly. “But we don’t know his story. He could be a runaway; a rebel.”

She appeared to be thinking this over in her young mind, obviously hard enough for her eyes to lose their focus and stare at an empty spot across the room. She was only eight summers a child, but it had been evident from the start she was far ahead of the other children when it came to the wisdom she had behind that mind of hers. When she wanted to show it, of course.

You found a rag amidst the clutter of your clothing in a woven trunk at the foot of the bed, then wet it in the fresh water from the bucket and began to mop away the sweat that clung to the man’s face like a thin veil of fear. You wondered what he had been feeling when he crashed just outside your little village; had he been afraid? Scared he was going to die? Or had he been willing, accepting, of the fact that the last sight he may have seen was the ground rising up to meet him?

When you at last deemed him cared for - after wrapping a shallow gash on his forearm and wiping away the dried blood on his busted lip - you sat back against the chair beside the bed and exhaled. Rani was watching him intently, her moss-colored eyes curiously picking him over, as if just staring the poor man down would reveal some hidden secret to her.

“Rani,” you said, and she blinked before glancing at you. “Why don’t you spend the night at the Vanous’ home? I’m sure they’ve heard what’s happened.” As has the whole village, you thought as you watched her retrieve her doll before disappearing out the door. But the Vanous were good people; with a young son of their own, they were always willing to allow his friends to spend the evening if needed be.

Warily, and with your knife sitting just beside your hand on the nightstand, you sat back and watched the clone trooper carefully. His chest rose and fell evenly with breath. You wondered if he was possibly dreaming, from the way his jowl twitched or his brow flinched from time to time.

You knew you could have very well been inviting danger, even death itself into your home. But there was something, some invisible, yet persuasive and heavy feeling in your chest that you had not. You did not know what it was that told you this, but you trusted it.

For some odd, unknown reason, you trusted him.

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars #bad batch #sargent hunter #bad batch hunter x you #the bad batch hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter #tbb hunter smut #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter fic #tbb fic #clone force 99 #clone trooper hunter

139 notes · View notes

worldwarthree · 2 years

Text

DNI

astrology enthusiasts, people who prefer biology over other sciences, literature majors, psychology majors, poli-sci majors, theater kids, people who participate in ace discourse in ANY capacity, fans of children's cartoons, fans of more than 1 musical, fans of hamilton at all, fans of any politician, RPF shippers EXCEPT of politicians, players of any brass instrument except tuba (trombones count double), fursuit owners, elon musk fans/apologists/likers in ANY capacity, people WITHOUT at least one "incurable" disorder (physical or psychological), raphael bousso, people who put "x"s in words for inclusivity, anyone who primarily uses twitter, anyone with their meyers-briggs in their bio, anyone who tells people their IQ unprompted, "empaths", 21 pilots fans, taylor swift fans, people who are against pirating, people who call themselves "feral", people who call any music "feral", people who don't understand either computer binary or morse code, anyone who plays a bard and/or human and/or high elf in D&D, anyone who uses the pleading emoji, anyone who doesn't use a VPN, picrew icons, chrome browser users, disney plus subscribers, youtubers, patreon subscribers of youtubers, arknights players, people who don't jaywalk, BMW owners, californians, cis fans of patrick bateman, supernatural fans, marvel fans, h*rry p*tter fans, anyone with an ao3 account, white people who consider themselves part of a "fandom", people named "sock" specifically, people whose name could start with a C but starts with a K instead, people who don't like mushrooms, people who like tomatoes, people who have read homestuck in ANY capacity, chess players who open with any variant of the sicilian, chess players who capture en passant, chess players who don't castle, people who started smoking to "look cool", people in BFA programs, anyone who has ever lived in austin tx, anyone who regularly honks at people on the road, anyone who fully believes the warren commission's report of the jfk assassination, nurses who were popular in high school, therapists, trader joe's shoppers, genshin kinnies, people who desire a scott pilgrim-adjacent relationship, people who download apps from ads, tiktok users, teenagers, spotify users, and of course, people who have mirrors in their room

#slash j btw #but i do have a little beef with everyonr on this list

23 notes · View notes

starryevermore · 3 years

Text

celebrity crush (1) ✧ colby brock

masterlist | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Ooo since it’s been a minute maybe trader is a big fan of Sebastian and colby is her boyfriend and takes her to comic con to meet him and colby gets a little jealous because maybe trader is dressed as Bucky and Sebastian thinks it’s adorable - anon

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: colby takes you to comic con, but he isn’t prepared to feel jealous of your celebrity crush.

word count: 2,383

warnings?: ohmygod combining my two loves?? bless you I love you, jealous!colby, this is entirely based on my experiences at comic cons (which are a lot smaller than the ones sebastian goes to) so there are likely things that aren’t accurate to larger cons, this takes place in a world without a pandemic

You’d been in love with Marvel Cinematic Universe for many years, ever since your dad took you out to see the first Iron Man movie in theaters. It fostered a love for everything Marvel related, a love that you carried well into your adolescence and adulthood. As you got older, you discovered the cosplay community and a love for making costumes. You could still remember the first time you went to a con, wearing a haphazardly thrown together Captain America cosplay that paid for with whatever you get working a shitty minimum wage job. You remembered how you felt walking the floor, little kids staring up at you with bright eyes, tugging on their parents shirt as they looked at you in awe. How older people would compliment you, some asking for pictures. You loved it. You loved being able to be part of a community like that.

Eventually, you began posting your cosplays on Instagram, garnering a small following. And eventually, that following grew and grew, to the point where you were getting sponsorships and had a Patreon. And then you had the ability to make your cosplays bigger and better than ever. As that took off, you began uploading to YouTube. Mostly videos of you making different parts of your cosplays, some more on the teaching side of things. Occasionally, vlogs of you going to different comic cons around the US. But, perhaps, the most interesting thing you did on your channel but collabing with other YouTubers and designing them a costume of their choice—either a cosplay of their favorite character or something wholly original.

That was how you met your boyfriend, Colby Brock. You’d just moved to Los Angeles, the hub of YouTubers and influencers as a whole, in an attempt to get some more collabs under your belt. After settling into your apartment, you started networking and somehow found yourself at an infamous Trap House party. You had your fun for a while, but found yourself outside in the backyard for some fresh air.

Coincidentally, so had Colby. He came up to you, his face tinted pink—from shyness, you claimed, though he swore it was because he was just a little too tipsy—as he asked for your name. You talked for hours, about everything. About nothing. Your hopes, his dreams. It was an easy conversation, something that flowed without ceasing. At some point, your jobs got brought up and, when you explained what you did, Colby was instantly asking if you could help him out. Apparently, he and his roommates were in the midst of a “prank war” and he was sure that a “badass scary costume” could “scare the shit out of them”. You agreed, so long as you could make your own content out of it, and the rest was history. The two of you spent so much time together perfecting his costume that, by the time he was ready to film the video, he asked you on a date. You agreed, on the condition that his prank was successful. And when he called you, laughing his ass off about how he scared his roommates so bad? Well, you knew that you would’ve said yes, even if he failed horrifically.

Dating Colby wasn’t easy, of course. He opened you up to a whole other side of social media that was more toxic than anything you’d ever seen. You were introduced as a friend, even though you’d been dating Colby for three months by that point, just to test the waters. And the waters? Well, they were shark-infested. So many fans went after you, attacking your appearance, your work, your personality. Called you a clout-chaser, a gold-digger, a good-for-nothing-whore. It only got worse when you announced you were dating. But you tried to not let it get you down. You had Colby and his love, and that was what mattered. Not the opinions of girls and women who likely would never even meet him.

And, for what it was worth, Colby did everything he could to make up for his fans’ atrocious behavior. He showered you with love and affection. Took you on elaborate dates. Praised you and everything you did—both privately but also publicly, letting his fans know that he loved you and they couldn’t change that.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, then, that for your one year anniversary that Colby pulled out all the stops. He’d known about your long-standing crush on Sebastian Stan—he’d endured far too many movie nights where you’d put on Captain America: The Winter Soldier and spent the entire movie talking about Sebastian’s performance to just not know. So, when he found out that a comic con was being held close by and Sebastian was attending? Well, he had to jump at the opportunity. He got the pair of you tickets to the con, and even sprung for a professional photo op with the actor (though he did balk at the prices, which you later explained was normal for an actor of his notoriety, but still, it was astounding). Anything to make you happy, though.

Colby swore it was worth every penny to see you light up. When he presented you with the tickets, or at least the email confirming the tickets had been ordered since they weren’t ready to be picked up yet, you cried and hugged him so tightly he couldn’t breathe. And when he said he got you a photo op with the one and only Sebastian Stan? He was sure you would’ve proposed to him on the spot if you could have. You immediately started making plans, chatting his ear off as you sat on his couch with him, your legs in his lap as you sketched out a design for a Winter Soldier cosplay.

The lead up to the con was almost as fun as the con itself. Colby followed you like a little puppy, hunting down the perfect fabrics with you once you finalized your designs. He helped you when you had issues with your sewing machine. He took pictures of you when you were trying on the outfit, showing it to you from different angles that you couldn’t quite see right in the mirror. And, when it was all said and done, the finished product was perhaps the most wonderful one you’d ever made. After all, you made it with the help of your most amazing boyfriend.

When the con finally came, you were beyond excited. You’d stayed over at Colby’s place so that the issue of battling traffic was lessened just a little. And, God, he loved the way you were buzzing around his bathroom, artfully smudging your eyeliner to perfect the ultimate Winter Soldier look before going slightly off script in the traditional look to add a bold red lip. Then he helped you into your outfit, not understanding your joke about needing lube to get into your faux-metal arm but laughing nonetheless. And then, once you were all geared up to go, the two of you made your way to the convention center.

Not much went on for the first few hours of the con. The two of you went around the convention floor, buying Pop! figures that you didn’t have in your collection yet, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over original artworks (which Colby later went back and bought so that he could use them in another surprise), stopping and taking pictures at the various props set up around the floor. Occasionally, other people would come up for a picture with you, gushing about how cool you looked. Your favorites, though, were when people cosplaying as Captain America—both as Steve’s version but more importantly as Sam’s version—would come up to you, laughing as you tried to reenact iconic poses.

Then came the time you were waiting for: photo op time. You had headed to the area early, wanting to be as close to the front as possible when they started lining up for Sebastian’s time slot. Colby stayed with you in line for a little while, but once things started moving, he grabbed the bags of things you’d bought and ducked out, moving to stand near the exit of photo booth. But, God, he almost wished he hadn’t.

It wasn’t long until it was your turn to take a photo. From outside the booth, which wasn’t more than just a few sheets hanging to keep people from potentially ruining the photos or harass the celebrity, he could hear Sebastian gasping and saying, “Oh, you look just like me!”

Then he heard your laugh as you joked, “Yep, just looking for Captain America.”

“Well, I can do my best to be your Cap,” Sebastian said. Colby tried to ignore the way his chest tightened at that, jealousy washing over him as he imagined how flustered you probably looked. “So, what kinda pose do you want?”

Colby heard you describe your pose really quickly, and he assumed you two got in it. Then he heard the photographer count down to take the picture, and then you were coming out, a huge smile on your face. You immediately hugged Colby, pressing kisses all over his face, thanking his profusely for getting this gift for you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you said between kisses. “That was the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Well, anything for my girl,” Colby said, the jealousy dissipating as soon as you were in his arms. “Was it as great as you thought it would be?”

“Even better,” you said, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. Then, you unwound yourself from him, grabbing onto his hand and tugging him towards the table where the pictures were being printed out at.

He spotted your picture first, pointing it out to you. You grinned as you took it, before paying for a plastic protector to put it in til you could transfer it to a frame at home. You joined hands once more, him leading the way.

“Where are we going?” you asked as he bypassed the hall that went to all of the vendors.

“Well, since he’s doing photos right now, I’d bet there’s not a huge line for autographs. We can jump in so that when he gets back, we’ll be one of the first to get your photo signed,” Colby said. He glanced down at you, seeing the way your face lit up. “My treat, after all.”

“Colby, you’re so amazing. I love you so, so much.”

As it turned out, he was right. There was only a few people waiting in the line, so you slid right in and began your wait. You chatted to the other people in line, telling them about how Sebastian was so sweet when you got your picture. And just like that, the jealousy bloomed in Colby’s chest again. He tried not to focus on it, though, not wanting to let the dark cloud looming over him ruin your day. This was about you. And he had no reason to even be jealous. You were his girlfriend, not Sebastian’s.

Nearly an hour later, Sebastian had made his way to his booth. He smiled at the now long line, waving as he took his seat. You moved further up in the line as things got moving, Colby paying for the autograph to the lady running the booth and the lady passed you a post-it and a pen so you could write down the name you wanted Sebastian to address his signature to. Then you removed the photo from its protector, sticking the note on it, before shooting Colby a big, toothy grin.

Then you were at the front of the line, trying to not let your excitement get the better of you.

“Hey! It’s you!” Sebastian said, his blue eyes lighting up as you handed him the picture that you’d just taken together. “Wow, this looks even more amazing than I thought it would be.”

Colby ground his teeth together as you giggled at the compliment. Shit, why was he feeling this way? Is this how you felt whenever he was around his fans?

“Ahh, it only looks so good ‘cause you’re in it,” you said.

Sebastian shook his head. “No, no, no! You look great in it, you practically outshine me. Honestly, Marvel might have to give me the boot if they see how great you looked as the Winter Soldier.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that!” “No, I really mean it!” He looked down at the post-it, smiling slightly before quickly doing his signature then taking his time to write something that looked much longer than just your name. “Well, here you go, Y/N. I hope you have a great day!”

“Honestly? My day’s been made,” you confessed, taking the photo from his hands. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

The two of you exited the line, you grinning down at your now-signed photo. Colby led you through the crowd, taking you over to some seating so that you could relax a little after having been on your feet for so long.

“So, what did he write?” Colby asked, trying to get a peak at the photo.

“For the Bucky to my Cap. I’m with you til the end of the line, Y/N,” you said, waving your hand over the ink to try to get it to dry faster.

“Oh, that’s...nice,” Colby said.

Then, you looked up at him, a knowing look in your eyes. God, he hated when you looked at him like that, ready to ask him about feelings he wasn’t ready to address. You smirked, cooing at him as you asked, “Baby, are you jealous?”

“Jealous? Me? As if!”

“Cause you know you have no reason to be, baby boy. I’m with you til the end of the line, not Sebastian,” you said. You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Then you moved up, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “And I know just how to make it up to you when we get home, yeah?”

He sucked in a breath, realizing what you were insinuating. “So, uh,” he coughed, “how long til we get home?”

“Well, the longer you put up with my fangirling, the bigger your gift is. That sound good, baby?”

“It sounds perfect.”

PART TWO

#requested by anon #sam and colby #colby brock #snc #xplr #traphouse #traphouse 2.0 #trap house #trap house 2.0 #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fluff #colby brock fic #colby brock fan fiction #starrywrites #starrybrock

117 notes · View notes

darkmindsotome · 3 years

Text

On the Riverbank

Title: On the Riverbank

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: Kei Soejima x MC

Word count:3,963

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Summary: After suffering from cabin fever a date is in order. Only this simple date plan is going to get spicy.

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #15: Free Prompt (Picnic on the River)

---

I was willing to blame uncontrollable events on the fact that we hadn’t managed to go on a date in a while. Between work and recovering from work, it had been impossible to plan anything. However, it had become the new norm for us to remain living together at Kei’s rooms in Raven.

At some point, I began to feel like I had cabin fever. I was happy to be with Kei and a secret part of me loved being at home with him 24/7. To think there was a time when I thought this was a prison sentence. I couldn’t deny the fact I wanted to go out and do something now things had settled down though.

After looking out of the large windows in the suite over the streets of London, sighing for what must have been the sixth or seventh time, into my nighttime cup of tea. Kei put down his book and announced we would be going on a date. Later that night I curled up happily in bed wrapped in his arms and fell fast asleep.

The next day I woke up alone. My mysterious man had vanished before I could say so much as a good morning or ask about our date plans. Patting down the sheet on his side of the bed resulted in me finding them stone cold. He was always an early riser but this was ridiculous. I then noticed a note left on his pillow.

“Good morning, forgive me I had some things to tend to. I have arranged a car to bring you to our date. K”

I rubbed my fingers over his beautiful cursive writing just as a courier arrived at the door and delivered a beautifully wrapped box. The duck egg blue container was almost pearlescent with a thick cream coloured satin ribbon all perfectly tied around it.

The timing was so perfect I really had to marvel at the man organising this and wonder if I was always this predictable or if I would discover a hidden camera somewhere in the room. Opening the box up revealed a single white rose with a card resting on top of a black dress that fitted Kei’s tastes perfectly.

“I can’t wait to see you. K”

The message had me smiling long before I took the dress out of the box. It was a vintage style tea dress with little cap sleeves made from some of the most delicate lace I’d ever seen. It looked almost like patterned smoke.

There was something different about getting ready for a mission and getting ready for a date. The feeling I got from both was similar but I found I was much more nervous about a date than a life-threatening mission. I rushed through my prep stage of shower, hair and make-up.

Slipping into the dress I instantly fell in love with it. Kei knew my measurements off by heart and I was pretty sure he had them on file with his usual tailor so he could get the outfits he gifted me perfect right down to the last stitch.

Walking into the closet to find a pair of suitable shoes I discovered some already sitting out. They were naturally also black with the addition of ribbons that wrapped around my ankles. Securing the bows, I couldn’t help but make the comparison between them and cuffs. I felt heat climbing up from them at the thought. I imagined Kei and what was probably going through his head as he picked them out for me. How his fingers would have traced the shoes and the ribbon. The idea of tying me up was never far from his mind and with these shoes, it felt like he had already started.

Shaking my head, I looked at my watch and doubled checked my reflection in the mirror before leaving to go get in the car. I watched from the back seat absentmindedly playing with my choker as the car took me away from the centre of the metropolis.

The modern landscape changed slowly into something that felt more historic. The buildings looked older; the concrete jungle had passed into something more like a tv drama set. In fact, if I hadn’t known how far I had travelled I might have thought I was somewhere else entirely.

My eyes caught a familiar figure standing near the roadside. He was dressed in more casual clothes. The white trousers, cream coloured cricket jumper with a blue stripe around the collar and the light blue shirt under it all made him look like a student. The car slowed until the backdoors aligned perfectly with him. I had seconds to smooth down my dress and mentally brush off some of the nervous excitement before the door was opened.

“M’lady.” I smiled at the Princely Kei as he offered me his hand. It was all too easy to forget what he truly was like even for me. Yes, I loved his sweet and angelic side, but I also loved that tricky Devil he hid behind his mask too.

“Thank you.”

Kei guided me to his side, away from the car, and sent it on its way. Now completely alone he used our still joined hands to make me twirl for him as he looking me over from head to toe.

“You look even better than I imagined.” Kei smiled and brought me closer to him. Sweeping some of my hair away from my neck so he could brush his fingers along the neckline of the dress and the choker around my neck.

I once more felt the difference in attire. I was all dressed up and felt far more formal than he did. The idea of him being a student once more flitted through my mind conjuring up kinky scenarios of a socialite sneaking off for a romantic rendezvous with a hidden student lover. It was silly, Kei was older than me even if there were times it was hard to tell that from appearance alone.

“Careful now or you might start sounding like Kazuomi.” I joked attempting to forget the thoughts going through my mind.

My eyes naturally fluttered shut. His cold elegant fingers ghosting over my skin was enough to remind me of the many nights we spent together. Where he had dyed me in his own colours and shown me the abyss behind the door to depravity. Joining me as we fell through purgatory to our own private Eden.

“Perish the thought.” He let go of me. A sensation that left me feeling the need to chase him.

Opening my eyes, I saw that impish look on his face. He was slowly becoming more and more adjusted to life outside of his own nightmares and past. It was still obvious he was a little lost and confused at times but when he was like this, I could almost imagine him as a little boy. It made my heart sing to think we could stand here now together and I could enjoy such a candid fragment of my elusive boyfriend.

“Come now we should get this date started.” Kei laced our fingers and matched his pace to mine.

We walked through some trees and right up to the side of a riverbank. There in front of us was a beautiful craft floating on the water. Inside were some large cushions a few blankets and a basket.

“I thought I would show you a little hospitality and tradition.” Kei let go of my hand briefly to climb onto the small craft and then held out his hand again to help me get on board as well.

“We are going boating?” I giggled as the whole thing rocked under my feet. The idea of mixing something traditional from his own country and a date was so him it made me happy.

“Punting. It is quite different but I trust you will enjoy yourself.” Kei’s correction came with all the patience I had come to expect from someone who knew so much and was used to sharing it in the course of his work.

“I think I’ve seen it before. It looked like the river had turned into Venice or something.” I sat down carefully feeling rather small when I looked back up at Kei.

“I can understand your comparison and whilst you can use a pole on both vessels a Punt is different to a Gondola.” He smiled and retrieved the long pole from the riverbank using it to cast off.

I watched him standing near my feet moving the pole through his hands with little effort. If you were really quiet you could hear the smooth wood, polished with years of use, slipping through the water and his palms.

“It doesn’t feel as safe as I thought it would.” I commented as the pole in his hand seemed to get stuck on something under the water and give a little tug that made the punt slightly rock.

“I assure you that I am an excellent Punter.” Kei’s expression was so deadpan and relaxed as he declared this I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“I get the feeling your friends would be doubling over in laughter right about now hearing you say that.”

“Yes, they probably would. Thankfully they aren’t or I would have tipped them both into the Thames and made them swim.” He looked down at me. The shadows from the trees we were moving through were casting shadows on his pale skin. I didn’t miss how his playful eyes shone through the shade.

“You wouldn’t…”

“Just sit back and enjoy the ride. I did consider placing the seat facing forward but selfishness prevented me from doing so. I wanted to see your face, forgive me.” The Devil faded in the light once more replaced by the charming Prince.

“You know I never once pictured you doing this?” I sunk back into the cushions, finding them much more comfortable than I thought they would be. The blankets as well were a mixture of textures but each one was thick and luxurious.

“Oh? Punting has been a traditional pastime in England since the 1860’s it really caught on by the 1880s and 1900s though. Before they became used for recreation these little crafts were used as part of the transporting of traders.” He spoke as he manoeuvred the pole and pushed us forward in the water. “Are you familiar with Alice in Wonderland?”

“Yes of course it’s a children’s classic.” I happily nodded. I know it is kind of a strange thing to enjoy but I did genuinely love how knowledgeable he was and how he explained things. It was like having my own personal tour guide and professor.

“Quite so. Well, the author Lewis Carroll used to punt along the Thames and during one of his outings where he was with a friend’s children he started to tell the story of a curious little girl who followed a rabbit. He later put pen to paper and created the beloved tale as a gift.” He lowered his voice as if he had just shared a piece of information vital to national security.

“I didn’t know that.” I don’t know what face I was showing him when he looked down at me. His face seemed to soften, although it could also have been my imagination.

“Literature aside I thought I would show you some more of England than the inside of Raven or shopping in the capital.” I looked around at the countryside slowly passing. I knew there was more to London than concrete and cars but I didn’t think there was this much greenery.

“I thought the Thames was larger than this.” I mused and put my hand over the side dipping it in the cool water playing with the ripples made by the punt as it moved.

“It is. We are currently on one of its many streams. Still part of the river but not as heavy with the tourist trade. You will also know of the boating traditions between Oxford and Cambridge, yes?” Kei always seemed to become a little more animated when talking like this. It was like he suddenly had an outlet for all the bottled-up information and facts he had in that well-read brain of his.

“The boat race?” I titled my head against the sun and saw him nodding happily.

“Yes, it is covered by the media extensively at the time. Well, the competition between the two on these waters doesn’t stop with rowing. There is a traditional Oxford way to Punt and then there is the traditional Cambridge version.” Kei grimaced theatrically as he explained.

“Haha, you don’t sound like you approve of the Cambridge way.”

“I am an Oxford man.” He almost seemed to stand up straighter as he said that. “The flat raised planking behind you is called the Till. A Cambridge man would stand on the Till and punt like so.” He stepped over me and demonstrated what he meant. It caused the punt to lurch which had me clinging to the sides of it thinking it might tip us both in the water. “Whereas an Oxford man, He will stand in the punt and work from here.” Kei stepped back into the punt and resumed moving us from inside. The vessel settled back down and I ended up breathing a sigh of relief. “Also a notable difference is the till. Following Oxford tradition, it is always facing front in the direction one is moving."

"I had no idea there were so many traditions.”

“There are more but I fear any more information will bore you under this hot sun. Here should be suitable.” He pushed the punt so it brushed up against the bank again this time next to what looked like a very secluded spot. The grass was short and looked to be recently cut. Surrounding it were high hedges and some trees.

“What is this place?” I asked as we left the punt for more stable ground.

“You will find them all around. They are locations people usually used for picnics.” Kei spoke as he stuck the pole into the bank and tied the punt to it.

“Are they all this well maintained?” I was still looking around. I don’t think I have ever been to a part of London that has ever made me feel so totally alone. It was pleasantly unusual.

“The ones that are owned are yes. This is one of my family’s spots.” He leant over and scooped up the basket and grabbed a blanket. With them in hand, he then walked into the centre of the grass and quickly set up.

“What do you have hidden away in your basket of tricks?” I sat down on the blanket and waited for him to reveal his secrets.

“We have tea, the very seasonal and traditional strawberries and cream.” He placed a flask down next to the punnet of fresh fruit and a pot of thick white cream. “We also have peanut butter sandwiches…”

“You made this picnic, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help but giggle. When he said he had things to do in his note I thought it would have been work-related. Now I had visions of him shopping and preparing this picnic instead.

“What is wrong with it?” He asked. His golden hair shining like a halo under the sun.

“Nothing just it's very you. If you had brought the basket from somewhere or had someone else make it, I doubt peanut butter would have made it on the menu.” It was true he could have ordered it from room service or had it made up somewhere in town and just brought it along. The fact that he actually made anything himself was endearing.

“Did you want something different?” His expression shifted and he looked like a child that was waiting to be scolded.

“No this is perfect.” I reached over and took one of the sandwiches from the plate in his hands.

“I did think of bringing some Pimms but I reconsidered.” Kei recovered fast, the cracks in his mask reformed.

“Why?”

“The time of day for one thing. I mean as Kazuomi would argue it's five o’clock somewhere but I would hate for you to be so drunk you fell overboard.” He poured some tea from the flask and handed it to me. Our fingers touching for a second, more than long enough for me to realise his body temperature was still as cold as normal.

“We both know I have a better tolerance to alcohol than that.” How can he do that? It was so hot the world could be melting and Kei would still be sitting there in a pullover surrounded by his own internal climate control. “You said this was one of the quieter parts of the River. Why come here? Oops!”

I had been so concerned with not spilling the tea he had given me I had completely misjudged the integrity of the sandwich in my hand. Part of it failed to make it to my mouth and vanish down the neckline of the dress. Embarrassment threatened to bloom inside me and I really hoped Kei had missed what I had just done.

“Is it a crime to want to spend some time alone with my girlfriend?” His voice was so close and I hadn’t felt the blanket move or even seen him shift. Yet he was right next to me his face so close to mine I could feel his breath in my ear. “Honestly I did think of following one of the other paths of the river. There are more pubs and places to go along them but I wanted to enjoy something more scenic with you.” He trailed his fingers along my choker and then slipped them down the front of my dress. “Now I’m glad I made this choice.”

“Something about how you just said that makes me think you weren’t referring to a quiet picnic together.” I acted cooler than I felt. I knew he could feel my heart beating and see the pulse running wild in my neck. All the time I faked being calm as his fingers extradited the rogue peanut butter sandwich from my body.

“You always were very observant.” I followed his hand as it carried the salvaged food to his own mouth. Those eyes of his locked on me looking like pools of golden lust.

They drew me to him like a spell and held me there as he locked me up in his arms, his hands roamed freely over me. Tumbling back together onto the blanket the picnic was threatening to be forgotten.

“Mmm Kei.” My breathy cry came out as he nibbled on my collarbone and began moving a hand up my leg under the fabric of the dress.

“Careful now. It might be a secluded spot but there is no telling who you might summon with a voice like that.” He teased as his fingers did some teasing of their own. Rubbing the outline of my sex through the sheer fabric of his favourite lace panties.

“As long as one of the people I summon is you I don’t care.” I was done with coy. Coy and demure didn’t get you anywhere fast with this man. There was a time and place for all that and when we were alone and things were heating up was not one of those times.

“Mmm, have I ever told you how stunning you are when you are honest with your desires?” He slipped his fingers past the lace pressing his thumb onto my clit before pumping a couple of digits inside me. I wanted to moan louder but his warning from before made me stop.

I looked up and found him smirking. He knew I was holding back. He knew I was trying to be a good girl but damn him if he wasn’t trying to break me.

“I don’t think I can remember.” Two could play that game and I tried to make it look like I was still in control. With every stroke from his hand, I was losing my sanity, but I kept up a strong front and played the game.

“Then I’ll have to take my time and remind you.” He moved on top of me his hand still driving a fever through my core as he spread my legs wide with his own.

“What about the picnic?”

“There is time enough for both. I don’t intend to let anything here on this blanket go to waste.”

His voice purred erotically as he slid the zip on the dress down my back and dragged the bodice low enough to expose my breasts. The cap sleeves I had thought were a nice addition were now part of the binding of fabric that was preventing my arms from freely moving.

Kei brushed his fingers over the lace of the bra and once more slid his hand inside. Treating each nipple to a firm pinch as he ravished my mouth with his tongue. I squirmed under him trying to wrap my legs around his and return the restraint in kind.

“Hehe, you really are the only one that has ever tried to dominate me.” His laugh was like a clear bell whilst the things he was doing to me had my head crashing like a drum.

“Kei… please stop teasing me already.” I moved some more only to find his weight was gone. He had stopped touching me completely and was sitting back on his heels looking at me.

“As My Lady commands.”

I watched as he licked his hand clean and used the other to undo his belt and trousers. It wasn’t unusual for him to remain clothed but it rarely happened where it was so bright. I bit my lip as he rolled my dress higher exposing all of me. He said nothing as he undid the strings on the panties and placed them into his pocket. The silence was deafening given how aroused I was. He leaned over and dipped a strawberry into the thick cream holding it just out of reach of my mouth.

“Eat it.” His command seemed absolute even if it was given in a sugary-sweet tone. I tried to stretch for it but couldn’t. His eyes twinkled and his smile became more wicked. “I guess if you can’t be a good girl then I’ll just have to treat you like a bad one instead.”

I felt my core tighten as he brought his palm down with a crack against my bare thigh. He pressed down on me again. His mouth connecting with mine. Fruit and cream filled my senses as he used his own mouth to feed me. The escaped juices were lapped up by his tongue as he arranged himself to take this to the next level.

“Ah!” A slight sharpness ripped through my body and was quickly numbed as the pleasure of us finally connecting took over. With each rock of his body, it moved my body against the ground far more than the swaying of any boat.

Our mouths connected again and again at different angles to the point where I was sure I had forgotten to breathe. His fingers ran through my hair sometimes pulling grabbing at it but each time it only emphasised his desire for me and made my whole body tingle.

I never did find out if anyone else was around as Kei had said or if it was all just another layer to his devilish lies to set the mood. I did discover that I would never be able to eat a picnic again without the addition of a peanut sandwich.

---

#summer of smut #summer of smut content creation challenge

32 notes · View notes