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ratmare · 3 months ago

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When the Lords of Leipa are summoned to treat, there are rumors flickering in the halls concerning the young swordsman accompanying Lord Capon. He’s a popular fellow. Many of the nobility toast him as the savior of Suchdol, and some offer him thanks for his hand in their own personal good fortune. But in the serving quarters below the banquet hall those who pay attention find reason to be wary.

They keep their voices hushed as they collect around the table, bowls of stew held close and prayers whispered before daring to take a bite. The chambermaid is the first to speak and she swears Lord Capon’s page hasn't touched his bed since arriving at the castle.

“Of course he hasn’t. When you all sleep, he mounts his horse and sets off God knows where.” The stableboy hisses. “There wasn’t a sliver of moon last night but he rode torchless, like hell itself was on his heels.”

“I’ve talked to him a fair bit.” The laundress stares blankly into her supper. “He’s kind enough not to haggle and even supplies his own soap, but it's the same pair of hose, gambeson and black waffenrock.”

“They’re soaked in blood each time.” The broth slip from her spoon, thin and murky rivulets dribbling back into her bowl. “And his eyes…they were blown black every morning, it almost looked like they were bleeding into the whites. Gave me the shivers.”

A huntsman leaning against the wall takes a long swig from his wineskin. “I want to believe I was seeing things but I stumbled on him dressing a deer in the Lord’s woods. When he was done he threw some of the meat to his hound and then took a handful for himself…I swear to the Blessed Virgin I saw him eat it raw.”

More than a few at the table cross themselves, mutters of “God protect us” rising into the air to mingle with the kitchen smoke.

“Henry seems like a fine man to me.” A serving girl fumbles with the hem of her sleeve. “He brewed fever tonic for Ludmilla’s child and wouldnt accept a groschen for it.”

“Did you see him make it though! The man was plucking belladonna and nettle barehanded. It’s devilry.”

“You don’t think Lord Capon would really have a demon in his service?” She frowns. “He prays in front of the wayside shrine each morning, and a demon could never do that”

“The devil quoteth scripture to suit his needs.” The farrier presses his tongue into his cheek, arms folded over his chest, and several at the table nod in solemn agreement.

“Devils is right.” The nightwatchman says. “You should hear the wailing that comes from his room after midnight.”

“So he beds a lass or two.” She shrugs. “Hardly unusual for a handsome lad like that.”

“Weren’t no lass in his quarters. Them were the moans of the damned I swear.”

“True enough.” The stableboy pipes up. “I bet thats why he rides all night. He’s out collecting souls for the Devil and then throws them into the flames for his master to feast on.”

“That’s nonsense!” The serving girl huffs. “The only master that man is interested in serving is Lord Capon.”

“But you see that’s the crux of it.” He leans in, voice low. “Don’t you find Lord Capon’s good fortune a little…suspicious?”

“Good fortune? The man’s been caged more times than a pigeon!”

“Shhh shhhh, yes, but he’s been freed each time and his uncle hasn’t had to ransom a single groschen for him.” He flicks his eyes between them waiting for the realization to dawn, but the serving girl is stone faced and the rest are slow with wine or fear.

“Capon sold his soul.” He concludes and the serving girl’s face instantly curdles.

“Blasphemy.”

“No it’s the truth. Do you really believe a no name peasant who’s held a sword for less than a year could rescue a lord half a dozen times.”

“That’s divine providence. Not devilry”

“”You think God favors some bratty lord from Sasau over our poor King locked in Vienna?” The huntsman quirks an eyebrow. “And after talking to our new bathmaiden from Rattay I don’t think God wants anything to do with that man.”

The stableboy slaps the table in agreement. “The rescues are one thing, but the marriage? Getting old Kunstadt to agree to that union had to take some bewitchment.”

She snorts. “You think Master Henry’s playing matchmaker?”

“If he is what I believe him to be there’s no telling what the limits to his powers might be.”

“This is all such foolishness.” She pushes back against the table as she moves to stand. “It’s plain as day you’re just jealous of a man who’s risen far above his station and has earned the friendship and admiration of the man he serves.”

“Careful how you speak, wench.” The stableboy hisses, teeth grit and finger punching at the air above her heart. “Or you’ll be dragged to Hell with Capon and his curr.”

“What’s that?” A new voice cuts through the air, deep and cold. They all turn to see a man standing in the doorway, the kitchen fire glints off the buttons of his black gambeson and combs bronze streaks through his chestnut hair. But the eyes that find the stableboy are icy.

“Did I mishear?” Henry takes a slow stride toward their table, gaze flitting from one face to the next. “It sounded as if you were speaking ill of my master.”

The stableboy feels the blood chill beneath his skin from this devil’s stare. He must be a devil. He’s seen more floggings than Christmases but his heart’s never hammered this hard from a man who’s yet to even raise a hand to him.

“O-of course not, m’lord.” He offers, throat clicking.

“Not a lord.” He draws closer, face inches from his. “Certainly not yours.”

“I can’t have you thrown into the stocks or horse whipped, but know that if I ever learn that you’ve spoken another unkind word about Sir Capon that I will have you begging for a Lord’s idea of justice.”

“Are we clear?”

He nods frantically, eyes pressed shut.

“Good.” He eases back just enough to allow the idiot to bolt, and like that the tension seems to lessen, a smile warms the swordsman’s face as he turns to the serving girl. “Ahhhh Anna is this your work it smells delicious.”

“It’s got that venison you brought me.” She smiles handing him a bowl. “Tried to dress it up a bit with some of Ludmilla’s spices.”

“You have a gift” He grins around a mouthful while he fumbles with the pouch at his belt. “Oh and before I forget here’s that wine you asked for.”

“Oh Henry, you are an angel. How did you manage it I thought Peter would laugh in your face?”

“I have my ways.” He winks.

Finis

Just a little quick and dirty drabble because good natured/kind protagonists being seen as creepy by outsiders is my absolute favorite trope

So did anyone else get the Tartare perk from the Mill? That’s gonna be hard to explain to his friends hehe, but oh boy is it good inspo for monster!Henry fics. Additionally, I always feel bad for mistiming nighthawk potions so Henry’s ryes are dilated during daytime. All that belladonna must make him look freaky.

#kcd2 #henry of skalitz #hansry #hans capon #my drabbles

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velvet-paradox · 8 months ago

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Oops!

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female reader Summary: you accidently call Simon while taking care of yourself. (got inspo from lovi on twitter) Length: Medium Warnings: NSFW 21+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, porn with very little plot female masturbation, male masturbation, descriptive actions, anal mentions, toy mentions, A LOT of dirty talking, detailed smut. ENJOY!!!

It's not that his phone is ringing in the middle of the night. It's not even the fact he'd just finally drifted off to sleep either. When he fumbled and grumbled, (of course he was grumbling) Simon Riley wrote the book on the Art of the Grumble you were certain, he was just relieved it wasn't Price. He was exhausted and was thisfuckingclose to telling the captain to pound sand if he had to pull another fifteen hour shift on base!

But no, it was not captain Price and it wasn't Johnny either. The screen of his phone stark white, taunting him in the dark of his room, as the time and your name and picture popped up. The one he'd taken of you and König in Vienna.

What was this about now? Simon huffed, dark blonde brows forming together. You better not be calling him from the bar again, needing a ride home, not trusting anyone else to swoop in to the drunken rescue. You saved money on Uber's and he got to look after you.

WIn - win.

" 'ello bird, what is it this time?"

Silence.

"Foxy, come on now, it's late. If you need a ride jus--"

"Oh yeah, oh that feels so good." You said through your teeth, hissing from a bit of a distance. What was that? Were you getting laid? Jesus H. You sounded breathless, out of it until some more rustling and now your voice wasn't so clouded in mystery.

You whined out something fierce which both confused and interested to the masked devil.

"Fox, can you hear me? Bird answer m--"

Another low whine followed by a low and quiet buzzing. "Oh fuck, I wish you were here. Oh fuck that feels so good, bet you would have a fucking ball using this one me. Oh Simon… please!"

He sat up quickly, his ear to the phone burning hot, a blush of discovery rising through his naked body, Ghost ran hot most nights, even in the winter months and said fuck it about four years ago and slept nude. Either you were having a decent fucking shag with another man named Simon, or you were thinking about him.

Well what have we here, you little sly little fox?

"So glad I got that princess plug, this feels amazing. Oh Simon, if you only knew, if you only fucking knew the things I want from you. What I'd let you do to me, what I want -oohhh fuck too much too much--" you cried and the buzzing stopped abruptly. You were panting and humming and without a second thought Simon's hand was stroking his waking cock through his sheets.

And just what did you want him to do? Simon bit his lip as he listened in, pulling his phone away only for a moment, making sure the volume was at it's highest before he put it on speaker.

"O-oh god, yeah. I don't wanna' cum again just yet! Want you to tease me, tie me up and make a mess. Mmmm maybe you'd make me clean it up too. I'd ride your fucking boots if you asked!"

Oh. Simon was not expecting that sentence or the filthy way you moaned, satisfied with saying it out loud.

"Can I? Can I L.T. can I ride your boots, I'll clean up m-my mess, I promise. Mmm, sitting under desk, your personal desk bunny you're," you really started breathing hard then, whimpering as he could now make out a wet, splotching sort of noise. Oh fuck- you were fingering yourself now. "Your fucktoy. Oh god! Yeah, I wanna' be your little fuck toy. Use me. Use my mouth, use my fucking pussy, I am so wet right now, oh shit!" You giggled wetly to yourself, gasping and Simon could only imagine you adding another finger into your spongy hole.

A fucktoy? boot riding? a plug in your asshole with fingers in your cunt? You were a nasty, freaky little thing. Oh this was better than any video he had watched recently! Interactive as he continued to stroke himself with you, the sheet had earned a wet pre-cum spot and had to be pulled away, Simon put his head down and spat on his cock, smearing his saliva around the girthy crown of it.

You were a dirty girl.

He loved it.

You were demure in the halls, paid close attention to detail, slick and sly when you need be, hence your call sign being Fox. You were quiet but funny, witty and no one had a bad word to drop about about you. Your lore on how you ended up with the 141 was something of legend, a myth that one day you just appeared like an apparition and no one questioned why. Just roll with it. You didn't cause trouble, kept your nose down but you knew things about each team member that soldiers could only dream of knowing. A book of secrets. Clearly.

Simon chuckled darkly to himself all the things you could come up with, possibly thing he hadn't even heard of. Simon wasn't into the BDSM scene, he knew a variety of knots of course but to use them on someone, never given the opportunity. As he spat on his cock again, the image of your face appeared. Maybe you liked to be spat on in too. The cute little whimpers and gasps you were doing on your end might suggest you like a lot more than just spit.

"Simon please! Bet you feel good, I know y-you're big, you'd stretch me out. Make me gape for you, oh fuck that's so hot!" You're erratic, your sheets are rubbing together faster and you're now on the verge of squealing like a stuck piglet. "Hold me down, pull my hair, those big fucking hands of yours on me, in me. Oh baby, finger me nice and deep, deeper than I can reach."

You wanted him so desperately and that made the lieutenant fuck his fist faster, slippery and noisy and wet. His hard cock just sloppily going up and down his shaft, he squeezed the mushroom cap like head of it, felt himself jerk and twitch before going hands free. Slapping it against his messy palm.

"Talk me through it baby, tell me what to do, how to do it. How fast, how slo-ow, oh yeah that's nice. Oh fuck I can feel it coming, I'm gonna' cum again. Shit." You grunted and made the most delicious sound Simon had ever heard in his whole damn life.

You were moaning, tapping the gem of the plug if he were correct.

Tap tap, tap tap.

"Oh yeah! Fuck my ass, finger my pussy, make me cum. Make me squirt, shoot your fat fucking load all over my face. I'll be your best girl, I swear it I swear it! I'm gonna' cum if I pull this out now." You cried, panting to your little hearts' desire. Simon was close too, he did his best to match your moans and sobs of pleasure, planting his feet and bucking his defined hips.

"I'd cum just about anywhere on ya', Foxy." Simon grunted quietly to himself. "Foxy fucktoy. Mmmm that does 'ave a bit of a ring to it, aye? Bad fuckin' girl."

You slapped something then. Your face, a tit perhaps, your pussy but you were whining and carrying on and Simon had to shut his eyes, imagining you working the princess plug in and out.

Oh for fucks' sake, he'd sell his left nut to see your pretty face, worn out, fucked out, in bliss and pleasure, sticking your pink tongue out. Eyes rolled back as you continued to fuck your fingers in tandem with his own fist.

"Gonna' cum oh shit, I'm gonna' cum again. For you. Only for you, sir!" He could hear your sloppy fingers plunging in and out of you pussy, faster and faster, louder and louder you became.

"Oh fuck yes, Simon! Yes, sir!"

You came with a shout, groaning and grunting behind your teeth. You sounded absolutely feral, pornographic. He couldn't hold it back any longer either, Simon bit into his cheek and came into his hand, it shot up and onto his stomach, muscles tight as he coaxed the last dribbling bits of cum onto his skin. He gave his palm a 'good game' type slap with his cock, laying back further into his pillows.

God damn.

"Fuck that was good. If only, if only you were here mmmm." You finally huffed out. You rolled over, to whatever side of your bed or maybe just readjusted yourself and your toys but he heard a clank of something and then your voice, clear as day. "What the fuck…oh my god. Oh no! Oh please don't be a voice note!"

Simon had to chuckle at your change in attitude.

"Oh for the love of… please be asleep. Pleasepleaseplease L.T. be asleep. I didn't mean to call --"

"On the contrary love," Simon held up his phone to his mouth, he heard you gasp on the other end. "I heard every last word and you sounded so damn fine. Bet you're glowing after coming so damn hard," you scrambled for words on your line, mumbling out a sorry excuse for an apology. He clicked his teeth at you like one would a horse. "Ah ah, Foxy. If there's a green Post-it on my door when I wake, your wish will be my command. And I am often fond of those aren't, Fox?"

"Very much so, sir."

"That's a girl. Now why don't you go get cleaned up and get some rest. Depending on your answer, soldier, you just might need it."

Simon chuckled to himself when he rose that morning, his entire door was covered with little green Post-its and none were the wiser when you passed each other in the mess hall.

#just a little something #love me some ghost even tho I don't write much for him #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine #cod fic #cod smut #cod imagine

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bad-system · 2 months ago

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who and where? — let's talk KCD3

disclaimer: this post is a continuation of my previous KCD3 posts on speculation of the events and lore that i'd like to see explored in the next installment(s) of the KCD story. these are only speculations born of my own biased narrative and hopeful bastardizations of real events. this is not representative of ALL the real historical persons and events as there is either info missing on them, they were altered by WH for the sake of the game or i'm plain wrong. PS: i am not a historian. i just like history.

PART: 1 2 3 4 5

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the part i've been looking forward to the most!

in this post, i'll be going over the most likely locations that will appear in KCD3 according to the real historical timeline and i'll be supporting these speculations with things that were hinted at in KCD2. and we'll be using some real historical maps!

the who:

the main antagonists i believe we will be seeing in KCD3 are the following:

Heinrich III von Rosenberg

Sigismund of Luxembourg (again)

Albrecht IV of Austria (?)

Erik

the new allies we might meet are the following:

Jan Sokol of Lamberg

Matěj Vůdce (Matthew the Leader)

King Wenceslaus IV

the where

the main locations i believe were most hinted at in KCD2 were the following:

Podiebrad

Kolin

Znojmo (Znojmo castle)

Prague (partial?)

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so let's start with the who!

so far in the story, king Wenceslaus IV has merely been a name without a face, unlike Sigismund who not only got screen time in KCD1 & KCD2, but also a significant role in the main quest (and in the credits). meanwhile, Wenceslaus has been pushed off screen as we fight for the very same king. which, i guess, was an authentic experience for the people of Bohemia at the time as well.

however, it was in november of 1403. that king Wenceslaus was freed from Vienna with help from none other than our John II of Liechtenstein. i believe that this might be a cutscene we will be seeing likely in the prologue of KCD3 rather than a playable quest due to the fact that Vienna is so far. i believe that if they choose to make this a non-playable cutscene then it would allow the game to advance onto 1404. and its relevant events.

now, i fully believe that we will be seeing Dry Devil, aka Hynek of Kunštát again if the game will indeed be playable in 1404. the reason for that is that there is a relevant event that occurs in the town of Znojmo, or more precisely, Znojmo castle. in 1404. king Sigismund along with Albrecht IV of Austria lead a siege against Hynek and Jan Sokol of Lamberg in Znojmo castle, during which Albrecht was allegedly poisoned and died of dysentery which spread throughout the camp, and even Sigismund was apparently at the death's door.

anyone else see a perfect chance for the involvement of our professional bastard meddler? not only that, but the geography of the area looks very fun. i also believe this would be a convenient event to cover in the game as it's historically pretty vague which would allow WH to have more liberty while writing it.

the next person on our list is Heinrich III von Rosenberg. yes, those Rosenbergs. that name has been present ever since KCD1, if you remember the knight Ulrich of Passau sent to investigate the forging of silver coins in Sasau monastery on behalf of the Rosenbergs.

in the next installment, in KCD2 Rosenbergs get mentioned again. they were the most powerful members of the League of Lords (and one of the founders) and the biggest opposition to then king Wenceslaus IV.

in fact, there is a Sigismund affiliated person in his camp called Ditrich Katz who is wearing prominently designed couters bearing the coat of arms of what i believe are Rosenbergs. i also couldn't find a real person bearing that name anywhere, so it is likely that he was created by WH as an original character, who is perhaps representing Rosenberg's interests within the army (which wouldn't be far-fetched at all considering Heinrich's position as the royal military burgrave of Prague).

i believe the Rosenberg crest is etched into the inner elbow of Ditrich's* couters. there is a possibility that the design bears similarities to that of the lords of Hradec, but i believe this one to be more likely Rosenberg related due to Katz's distinctly red colour scheme. source: KDC2

so why is he so important to the sequel(s)?

besides the fact that he was one of king Wenceslaus' biggest enemies, we can also see his banner flying among Sigismund's army during the sacking of Skalitz.

i very kindly circled the banners for you. source: KCD1

you'd honestly think Henry would have a bigger incentive to go after this guy rather than Von Bergow.

there is also an unconfirmed but still very interesting theory that Jan Žižka served Rosenbergs under a false name during a brief period, which makes his efforts of destroying Rosenberg assets starting in 1406.* very funny. i say 1406. only because that was the first time he started appearing in the Rosenberg's black book (acta negra maleficorum) of the Rosenberg estate as an accused bandit. this means his hostilities against Rosenbergs could have started as early as 1404. for the sake of the narrative convenience (wink wink nudge nudge WH?). jokes aside, the lands surrounding Trocnov, Žižka's home, were often under pressure from Rosenberg estates, so i could see his incentives against Rosenbergs easily starting before 1406. because of that regardless of the convenience of the narrative.

whew!

and if you recall the scene where Istvan Toth is sending Erik on his merry way to Malešov, you can hear him mentioning Senitz (Senice).

source: KCD2

i was briefly debating which Senitz/Senice he was talking about, but i took the liberty of visualizing the route from Trosky to Malešov for your viewing pleasure and found one Senice along the route.

(note: this is a modern route using modern roads as per google maps info because i do not have access to a more detailed map of 1400s central Bohemia. it is only an approximate of Erik's route at the time but i think it still gives you a good sense of his path. 90km/56mi.)

so that was another Rosenberg mention. i think it's safe to say that we will be encountering Heinrich III von Rosenberg in the next game.

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and now the allies!

i believe Dry Devil and John II of Liechstenstein will be making an appearance again, and alongside them most likely Jan Sokol of Lamberg.

there hasn't been much proof that suggests we will be seeing him in a sequel, but i don't believe his KCD codex entry mentioning Znojmo in 1404. is a coincidence.

and again, there is the mention of Rosenbergs. i believe that KCD3 will either include the events of 1404. OR it will contain the events of 1404. and timeskip into 1409. because that was when Jan Sokol of Lamberg, Matěj Vůdce and Racek Kobyla waged a guerilla campaign against the Rosenberg family on behalf of king Wenceslaus IV. two pretty relevant periods, i'd say.

as for Matěj Vůdce, aka Matthew the Leader; people have been speculating that the Matthew we encounter as Henry while recruiting Dry Devil's old band is the Matthew. or just another Matthew. i couldn't find the exact year when Jan Žižka met Matthew before the more commonly cited 1409. so i can't say for sure. (however, i'd like to think that a figure that important wouldn't be an easily killable NPC.)

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and now let's go into the where's!

i promise this section will be shorter and more illustrated than the previous one. reminder of the locations i listed;

Podiebrad

Kolín

Znojmo (Znojmo castle)

Prague (partial?)

i obviously listed Podiebrad (Poděbrady) as that is the location mentioned multiple times in KCD2. Rosa Ruthard mentions her and her family (Ruthards) travelling there at the end of KCD2, and i believe this is where Hans Capon's wedding will be held as well considering Podiebrad was an estate given to the Kunstadts (by Charles IV, Wenceslaus' father), and considering the fact that Botschek and of course Jitka are of Kunstadt, it makes sense.

i also believe Kolín will be there, probably less important but as a potential place where we will be able to meet Samuel again. historically, Sigismund did indeed order an attack on Jews of Kuttenberg and they did settle in Kolin.

the distance between Podiebrad and Kolin is also quite short.

as for Znojmo, it is located some 170km (105mi) away from Rattay which might seem like too far, but here's a reminder on how far Trosky is from Rattay in comparison!

the distance between Rattay and Trosky is 103km (64 mi)

and finally, here is the distance between Rattay and Podiebrad + Kolin.

when you compare it to Trosky and its surrounding area, Podiebrad and Kolin are a lot closer in comparison. i even speculate that Hans' wedding might happen on his way back from Trosky to Rattay, hence why Hanush was so insistent on hurrying Hans up and why Hans was so insistent on staying in the Devil's Den longer with Henry.

and lastly; Prague.

i am still very much on the fence about Prague, mainly because trying to recreate a city of that size in-game would be a Herculean task. not impossible, but very hard. i mention Prague because after stopping in Kuttenberg, that is where king Wenceslaus IV returns to once he escapes Vienna in 1403.

and there could be a lot said about Kuttenberg and that arc in itself (like Hans, Henry and co. meeting the king in Kuttenberg while they're still chilling in the Devil's Den) but i thought i'd rather talk about Prague.

Prague, even in 1403./1404. was already approx. 5-6 times bigger than Kutternberg. which is a Lot. I've already linked this map in a previous post, but here's a reminder on what a reconstructed map of Prague in 1419. looks like;

my frankenprague map. source from this lovely website!

on the other hand it's an insane project that would be lauded for decades if executed successfully because who the hell wouldn't want a walkable map of 1419. Prague ?!

thus i believe that Prague might also become only a cutscene or only a very small part of it would be playable for reasons yet unknown to me.

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okay, that's all for now. i had to cut this post down in size, can you believe it. but i really wanted to make a sort of an Everything post for the possible directions KCD3 might take because i was seeing way, way too many people guessing that the next KCD game will be set in 1419. my brothers and sisters in christ, there are so many important events to cover just from 1404. to 1416., i cannot imagine going straight into the Hussite wars without establishing Henry as a radical on the side of the people through various banditry related events and addressing the collective harem of Bohemian revolutionaries accumulated throughout both of the game's story first. i know a lot of us are here for the tragedy of Hansry in 1419., but i promise you there are many happy years between now and then in the meantime. enjoy them! (and learn more about 15th century Bohemia!)

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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metalhead! konig and alternative!reader plz🙏🙏. i just need konig to protect me in a moshpit at a concert. im short so i need a 6’10 giant to protect me 😁🫶

Your first time at the real concert in Vienna was...a lot. Drunken Germans, yelling tourists, someone definitely doing crack in the corner, and some girls that looked like they were ready to sacrifice the strongest one to the devil. You belong here, of course, with your heavy boots and even heavier makeup - the foundation already feels like a mask on your skin, not allowing you to breathe without cracking a layer of powder and lipstick all over your mouth, but you tried your hardest to have fun. And you did have fun - except for the time you were pushed to the mosh pit. In your unstable heavy boots - the coolest shit ever, of course, and also the thing that made you reconsider all of your life choices that had led to this. Maybe you were the brave gothic alt butterfly who got into the pit all by herself - unfortunately, the reasoning won't change the outcome. European concerts might not be as wild as some of the American ones, but drunk Germans and Austrians are something to be concerned about...and old metalheads who been jamming here since the fall of The Wall is something that is going to be your funeral...this is when you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Are you alright, Schatzen?" Man sounded awkward, almost nervous. Mumbled some apology before finally snatching up up in his hands - and you were ready to kick him in the balls with those spikes in your boots and scream bloody murder, but then you understood that he just...got you off the pit. That was filled with people a second later - people that would definitely crush you if you stayed here. Guy's name is Konig and he was actually not liking the concert very much. He said he loved the group - since he was a teen which, you presume, was quite a long time ago - but he hated the crowds. His friend got him a ticket and then couldn't come with him, which made him kinda lonely and kinda heroic to a sweet thing like you. Konig is nervous and you grab his hand to steady him - you swear to god you feel his fingers tremble as you bring your body closer. Concert was nice - but it's nicer when he grabs you by your hips and lifts you up on his shoulders so you could get a clean view at the band. You feel scared at first - not trusting that he won't drop you...but his hands don't even waver as he keeps his cool, making sure you're stable and having fun. You slip your number in his pocket as he walks you to the bus home - and you don't even resist when he awkwardly leans down to kiss you, his mask down to his chin. Your black lipstick is all over his mouth now, and you make sure to lick it all off. Don't want to leave a bad first impression, after all.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #cod x reader

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the-bluebird-you-need · 6 months ago

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Only counting everyone's canon studio albums. Wings is counted for Paul. There were some date discrepancies, I had to decide what made the most sense in those cases. They will all be listed below the cut in date of the year order.

January 10 Look Up (R)

January 12 Y Not (R)

January 14 Liverpool 8 (R)

January 17 Yellow Submarine (B)

January 27 Milk and Honey (J)

January 30 Ringo 2012 (R)

February 1 Off the Ground (P)

February 6 Kisses on the Bottom (P)

February 14 George Harrison (G)

February 17 Rock 'n' Roll (J)

March 22 Please Please Me (B)

March 25 Ringo Rama (R)

March 26 Wings at the Speed of Sound (P)

March 27 Sentimental Journey (R)

March 31 London Town (P), Postcards from Paradise (R)

April 17 McCartney (P)

April 21 Bad Boy (R)

April 26 Tug of War (P)

May 4 Red Rose Speedway (P)

May 5 Flaming Pie (P)

May 8 Let It Be (B)

May 16 McCartney II (P)

May 17 Ram (P)

May 22 Time Takes Time (R)

May 26 Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (B)

May 30 Venus and Mars (P), Living in the Material World (G)

June 1 Somewhere in England (G)

June 4 Memory Almost Full (P)

June 5 Flowers in the Dirt (P)

June 7 Choose Love (R)

June 8 Back to the Egg (P)

June 12 Some Time in New York City (J)

June 16 Old Wave, Vertical Man (R)

July 10 A Hard Day's Night (B)

August 5 Revolver (B)

August 6 Help! (B)

August 25 Press to Play (P)

September 7 Egypt Station (P)

September 9 Imagine (J)

September 12 Chaos and Creation in the Backyard (P)

September 15 Give More Love (R)

September 17 Ringo's Rotogravure (R)

September 20 Ringo the 4th (R)

September 22 Extra Texture (G)

September 25 Beaucoups of Blues (R)

September 26 Abbey Road (B)

September 29 Walls and Bridges (J)

October 4 Run Devil Run (P)

October 11 New (P)

October 19 I Wanna Be Santa Claus (R)

October 22 Give My Regards to Broad Street (P)

October 25 What's My Name (R)

October 27 Stop and Smell the Roses (R)

October 29 Mind Games (J)

October 31 Pipes of Peace, CHOBA B CCCP (P)

November 2 Cloud Nine (G), Ringo (R)

November 5 Gone Troppo (G)

November 12 Driving Rain (P)

November 15 Goodnight Vienna (R)

November 17 Double Fantasy (J)

November 19 Thirty Three & 1⁄3, Brainwashed (G)

November 22 With the Beatles, The White Album (B)

November 27 Magical Mystery Tour (B), All Things Must Pass (G)

November 30 Band on the Run (P)

December 3 Rubber Soul (B), Wild Life (P)

December 4 Beatles for Sale (B)

December 9 Dark Horse (G)

December 11 John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band (J)

December 18 McCartney III (P)

#poll #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #rip july birthdays tbh

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dakusan · 20 days ago

Note

omggg friend what a MEAL you gave me and all of us 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️ thank you so much

i left my screams in the tags of a reblog but imma say it again it was SO HOTTTT

and i came with more vamp chan thoughts. firstly, i wonder what does he do? he clearly needs money for all that luxury and providing for his chosen so does he run a business? i need to know more!!

secondly, the whole feeding and orgasms correlation. i wanna talk about the fact that reader just cannot cum until he’s biting her, at some point. some pavlov dog sorta training. and whenever she wants to touch herself she just won’t reach that release without the feeling of chan sucking her blood and ruining her skin. imagine the frustration!! the edge and pain of being sooo worked up and still *no release*. grrrrr

baby. you’re feeding me vampire crumbs and i’m devouring them like i haven’t eaten since 1437. i’ve been building vampire lore since i was THIRTEEN, yes, you heard that right. so the fact that you’re tossing these thoughts at me like “what if Chan ran a vampire empire and made you cum via fang addiction?” is quite literally making me foam at the mouth.

now. let me answer your brilliant little brainrot inquiries like the horny lore goblin you deserve:

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

"what does he do? he clearly needs money for all that luxury and providing for his chosen so does he run a business?"

oh, sweetheart. he doesn’t just run a business. he runs an empire.

Bang Chan is the founder and majority silent partner of NOCTURNE (yes i made up. so what?), an ultra-exclusive luxury conglomerate that owns high-end hotels, scent brands, antique dealerships, rare blood wine cellars (don’t ask), and an underground vampire club that humans think is just for kink, but actually… isn’t.

He never appears in public. He’s the name whispered behind velvet curtains. The phantom signature on the deed to every black marble building with no windows and too much perfume.

He has humans on salary whose entire job is laundering money from centuries of accumulated wealth—royal gifts, war spoils, artifact trades. He also owns three passports, five shell companies, and one immaculate cover identity as a philanthropic tech investor.

He doesn’t run a business. He is the reason old money stays old.

And yes—he has a private vault under a mountain in Switzerland. His chosen will never want for anything except his bite.

In simpler words: HE’S NOT RICH. HE’S “generationally immortal asset portfolio with blood diamonds under Vatican vaults” LOADED.

You want Dior? He buys Dior. You sigh near a painting? He tracks down the artist’s great-grandchild and funds their career. You say “I miss Venice”? Suddenly you’re on a jet, and he’s feeding from your thigh in a gondola.

And don’t get me started on the clothes. Custom lingerie with charm runes. Silk robes that feel like they were spun by devils.

The man has a wine cellar full of vintage blood types by bloodline. There’s a Merlot ‘82 next to an AB+ from a pianist in Vienna he once seduced. He swears you taste better.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

“the whole feeding and orgasms correlation… reader just cannot cum until he’s biting her, at some point.”

Oh, baby. That’s canon.

It started as coincidence. The first few times, he bit you right as you came—deep, sharp, electric. You didn’t realize your brain was already linking the two.

Your body stopped responding to anything else. Fingers? Useless. Toys? No effect. Edging for hours? Nothing. You can’t come without his fangs in your skin now. Not just because it feels good—because it’s ritual.

He knows too. Of course he does. He orchestrated it.

He’ll tease you for it every time.

“What’s wrong, angel? Been playing with that pretty pussy for twenty minutes and still not shaking?” “You need me to bite you, don’t you?” “Of course you do. You’re conditioned now. Ruined. Daddy’s blood-drunk little slut.”

And worst of all? He’ll withhold it. He’ll edge you to madness—fingers inside, cock hitting deep, mouth at your throat—and just when you think it’s coming—

“No bite tonight. You didn’t earn it.”

And you’ll sob for it. Because your body physically can’t finish without it. You’ll beg for those fangs like they’re oxygen.

And when he finally gives in—when he sinks his teeth into your neck like a promise—You’ll come so hard you black out.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

Thank you for feeding my centuries-old vampire kink with your unhinged brilliance 🩸💋🖤

#ask dakusan #bang chan x reader #vampire!bang chan #bang chan smut

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bluebyrd-screaming · 11 months ago

Text

I'm gonna need yall to trust me on this, but listening to tysm followed immediately by hell and you goes so fucking hard

#vienna notarianni #amigo the devil #music #indie music #hell and you #folk music #music recs #love songs #but love so deep that its self destructive #Spotify

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croquettish · 15 days ago

Note

I was reading some of your earlier posts & I don't think Hans' wedding would be that difficult to implement, especially if it acts as a prologue to the third game. This is just speculation & how I would personally write the game. The wedding could be a good tutorial & reintroduction to the noble conflict of KCD for incoming players - with Hanush & Razdig, Divish and Stephanie, John of Liechtenstein, Jobst, Zizka & Dry devil, Godwin & co, and the Ruthards as guests - and allow the player to "lock in" a romance for the rest of the game (with the main choices being Tess, Hans, & Katherine - maybe Rosa though she is kind of irrelevant lol).

If we assume that freeing Wency will be a bug plot point in KCD3 (I would put it as the climax of the first act personally for biggest emotional turmoil as Wenceslaus is revealed to be a crappy king in the second lol) I doubt that Hans would or could be involved, he would also likely have shit to sort out back in Rattay with Jitka and Hanush. Likewise the remaining romance options - except maybe Katherine? - would stay back in Bohemia while Henry & John & the Devils' Pack go deal with Wenceslaus in Vienna.

What do you think? I'd be curious to get your perspective :)

I agree!! I think the wedding could be the trickiest to pull off in terms of weaving in the Hansry relationship but I think even that would be far from impossible. That would be a FUN prologue too. You've also 100% convinced me that freeing Wency (love that btw!!) would make for an amazing sequel.

I don't think Hans wouldn't be able to come along if they ended up freeing Wenceslas, though!! I mean, why not? Let's look at history real quick:

On October 1st of the same year (1403) the pope acknowledged Wenceslas' loss of the throne. This meant that his coronation was no longer possible and they didn't give as much of a shit about keeping him under tight lock and key. So Wenceslas got to fly the coop on the 11th of November. (As it happens, our beloved Liechtenstein was part of the rescue team!! Which could be extremely fun.) They then got to Prague on Christmas.

Scenario 1: Hans gets married beforehand. He didn't want to get married to begin with and so the second he learns that Henry is setting off for Vienna, he immediately rushes to join him.

Scenario 2: Hans is so desperate to put off the wedding that, when he learns Henry is going to Vienna to save the king, he instantly leaves with him and puts his own wedding at risk in the process, but makes it back before the end of 1403 (the year the historic figure of Jan Ptáček got married).

This would even imply that this little exchange between Hans and Botschek was meant to act as a little teaser for KCD3:

Which I would be all about tbh!!!

#thank you so much for the wonderful ask!!!#I love people picking my brain like this #any excuse to talk about hansry I will jump on if just given the chance #the hyperfixation do be hyperfixating!!!#hansry #kcd2 spoilers #kcd #kingdom come deliverance #tam talks #kcd meta

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ghostedgwen · 2 months ago

Text

come one, come all | r.black [part one]

note : yaaaay finally something for reggy! took this plot from a fic I posted on wattpad that is currently on hiatus, idk if I'll continue it in all honesty but I'll just steal the plot for a bit for this fic, if all goes well I might just abandon the fic on wp and settle with this as a mini series? we'll see~

warning/s : pureblood shit, angst, brewing war on the horizon, dark themes, arranged marriages, grief and death of parents, themes of abuse and manipulation, last name given | words : 3.8k

After the sudden death of your parents, you’re thrust into the darkest corners of the pureblood world—grieving, cornered, and helpless. As the precious heiress of the Greengrass name, you're offered as a pawn in an arranged engagement to none other than Sirius Black, the rebellious heir of a family you want nothing to do with.

You weren't sure what to make of it - your life changed so much in just a matter of a week, and everything you’d learned to love had crumbled to the ground.

It's almost funny how one's world can turn upside-down and flip sideways in such a short amount of time. Had it not been happening to you, you might’ve even laughed.

But alas, you were unfortunate enough to be hand - picked by life and thrown into the unknown. Life had been good. Even with danger lurking around every corner, you were happy - with your family.

"My, such an unfortunate situation indeed." The woman’s bony fingers caressed your cheek lightly. You knew there was no affection behind it - only calculation.

You kept your eyes ahead, staring past the sea of adults draped in dark robes. They were all looking at you like some sort of strange artifact. Something to be evaluated.

To be honest, it felt like you were being auctioned off. Their greedy eyes made your skin crawl.

They were assessing you - searching for flaws, imperfections. You saw the collective nods when they found none. Not in your appearance. Not in your name. Not in your blood.

"But the Greengrasses did well bringing you up - such fine pedigree, this one." A man with platinum blond hair spoke, his icy blue eyes fixed on you, and you held his gaze without flinching.

You were raised well, that much was true. And you knew better than to appear weak in front of people like them. You knew what they were capable of.

You knew exactly who they were.

"No need to be shy now. Introduce yourself and present yourself properly to the Dark Lord."

Merlin.

Alarms shrieked in your mind - red and loud and blinding.

You were only fifteen. There was no way life should be this cruel already. Don’t you deserve a little more time?

The adults parted, and standing a few feet away was a man - no, something more. The most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Despite the wicked glint in his red eyes, he was mesmerizing.

Your breath caught. You looked into the eyes of the devil and questioned everything.

Should you lift your chin and speak with pride? Or drop to your knees and cry like a child?

No. That wasn’t an option.

You were a pureblood. An heiress. Crying would make you prey.

"I greet the Dark Lord," you said, bowing your head and lowering yourself into a slight curtsy before rising again. Chin high, lips smirking - though they trembled. "I am the daughter of the late Vienna and Heathe Greengrass."

He raised a brow, and silence fell between you.

You waited - timing was everything.

"And like my father and mother before me, I dedicate my loyalty to the Dark Lord."

His face shifted, the edges of his mouth curling into a smile. Amusement sparkled in his gaze.

You exhaled quietly.

You survived.

For now.

The adults around you murmured with approval. Nods exchanged. Satisfied smiles.

You masked your shock when Walburga Black stepped forward, giving the Dark Lord a respectful bow without even glancing at you.

"My Lord, let me take the girl in. The Greengrasses were among the purest of the pure. Such a fine lineage. Their legacy has always impressed the Noble House of Black." She paused, almost smiling.

Your throat tightened. Adoption by the Blacks? Things could always be worse - but you knew how that family operated.

You’d heard the stories.

"I guarantee she’d make a perfect wife for my son."

Ice filled your veins. A wife?

You thought you’d be taken in as a ward.

Not sold off like livestock.

You opened your mouth to protest - but bit your tongue. You knew where you were standing.

"Please indulge me, oh Dark Lord. She would be a fine addition to our family tree. They shall produce pure heirs."

You were standing before the darkest of the dark. Purists. Supremacists. Monsters who would spill blood for the sake of their beliefs.

And you?

You were an orphan. A mere child, left alone. They worshipped your bloodline, and they would eat you alive if you didn’t play your role to perfection.

"And what do you say to that, girl?" the Dark Lord asked.

You raised your head and looked directly at Walburga. Her stare was like a blade - sharp, cold, calculating.

You gave a cold smile in return. One pureblood to another.

"I’d be honoured to be a part of the Noble House of Black."

You almost vomited from the lie.

The Black estate was just as you imagined. Cold. Dark. Timeless.

You arrived by apparition, Walburga’s hand resting gently on the small of your back.

You doubted she’d be half as gentle if you weren’t a Greengrass. You’d heard the things she’d done to Muggleborns. Half-bloods. And even those Pure of blood that sympathized with the lot.

You weren’t eager to see that side of her up close.

The house reeked of history and prestige. The kind that’s soaked in blood and had you not known its history, you would've adored the decor.

Gold-framed portraits lined the walls. You scanned them, and your gaze landed on the boy sprawled on a couch. He rose as soon as he saw you.

Regulus Black.

Walburga clapped her hands, summoning a house-elf in an instant. He bowed low. You remained quiet, pretending not to notice the glances Regulus kept sneaking your way.

You already knew who your fiancé was. You were in the same year as Sirius Black. Walburga hadn’t even looked Regulus’s way when she mentioned a betrothal.

Sirius Black.

Gryffindor’s pride. The infamous Marauder. The rebel.

You’d seen him. Loud. Charismatic. Annoying. His group caused chaos on a weekly basis.

You'd kept your distance. Slytherins were frequent targets. And now you’d be his fiancée. Just your bloody luck, eh?

"Kreacher, make tonight’s dinner extra special. We have an important guest and an even more important announcement," Walburga said, and the elf disappeared with a nod.

She turned to Regulus. "Tell your brother to prepare for dinner. He is expected to behave."

Then she turned to you, smiling. "This is the Greengrass girl. I trust you know her from school, Regulus?"

You turned to him. It was like looking at a younger Sirius. Long black hair, stormy grey eyes. An exact replica but also - he felt awfully different, the aura they exude couldn't be more different.

"Regulus Black. A pleasure to meet someone of such high status." He extended his hand.

You took it with a calculated smile. Walburga beamed from the corner of your eye.

Would you be here if you weren’t a Greengrass? If you were a Weasley, or a Potter? Would they have thrown you to the wolves instead?

"Pleased to formally meet you. I look forward to dinner."

You didn’t.

Your bedroom was huge but suffocating. The wallpaper was dark, the bedding darker still.

You wasted no time. Taking down the portraits without a care of being questioned, surely they'll understand if a girl wants privacy. You didn’t want their eyes on you.

Your trunk was filled with clothes that clashed against the gloom. Bold, bright pieces that looked out of place in a home like this - you wonder if you should change your wardrobe to be seen less in this gloomy decor.

You placed a single photo - your family - on the nightstand.

It didn’t feel real.

They were so young. So powerful. And so very dead.

They adored you. Their world revolved around you, and you around them.

Now?

Now it was just you.

"Oh, Mother… Father…" you whispered, brushing a tear away. "I’m to be married to a stranger. How unbecoming of your daughter."

A knock at the door made you turn your head swiftly. You opened it hesitantly to find the house elf bowing his head low to greet you.

"Dinner is ready, miss Greengrass. Kreacher will escort you."

You nodded, glanced in the mirror. Hair neat. Face composed. Perfect.

You had to be perfect.

“There she is,” Orion Black greeted you with a wide smile. He motioned to the seat waiting at the long, elegant table.

Every chair was filled. Even Lucius Malfoy was here, sitting beside his fiancée.

You took your seat - next to Regulus, directly across from Sirius.

Lovely.

Sirius’s eyes narrowed locking in on you. You felt the weight of his stare but pointedly ignored it.

"Our important guest is Greengrass?" he asked, his tone edged.

"I am terribly sorry for your loss," Malfoy interrupted, cutting in smoothly. "Such fine wizards they were."

You didn’t respond. Just stared at your plate as you willed yourself not to lose focus. It's one thing to have your parents die, it's another to be adopted so suddenly by another family and bethrothed to a stranger who you knew would hate your guts.

None of them mourned your parents. Not really. They mourned the bloodline. The power that they could've used in their fight, not the people they were and the parents they had been - only you truly mourned them.

Food appeared on the table, but your stomach twisted. You forced yourself to sip water. Again and again, tearing into the meat to separate it into bite-size pieces but never actually putting one in your mouth.

Regulus’s elbow brushed yours occasionally, snapping you from your daze. But reality was no comfort.

And Sirius - Sirius kept glaring. Like he could burn through you with his eyes alone.

To him, you were just another Slytherin. Another arranged name in a family tree, another evil snake that wanted to rid the world of people that he surrounded himself with - just another purist like his entire family.

Let him think that.

Dinner dragged on with you just playing with your food and taking sips of water, if the boy next to you noticed - he did not say anything as he kept stealing glances that you always caught. At least he was subtle about it, the older brother was shameless in outright glaring at you from across the table.

And then - Walburga placed down her cutlery.

"Now, for the announcement- " she grinned so widely, one you could almost paint as sweet had it not been for the wicked glare in her crazy eyes. She turned to Sirius, as if to mock him, "Am pleased to inform you all that my son, Sirius, will be betrothed to our dear guest and they shall make beautiful pureblood heirs!"

You didn’t need to look. You felt the full force of Sirius Black’s hatred crashing over you like a tidal wave. You could try and come up for air but the waves kept coming and coming until you eventually lost all your power - left to swallow the water and let it fill your lungs.

If looks could kill - you'd already be buried.

You manage to sit still with a blank expression as he continues to direct that angry glare toward you. The heir to the Black name in all his Gryffindor and rebelious glory, deciding you were the enemy. As if you were the one who made the announcement—why are you taking the heat for something you had no part in?

You don’t look away. You raise a brow instead, and that small, subtle act seems to provoke him more than anything. His fist slams onto the table, cutting off the cheers and applause ringing in the air.

"Welcome to the family, Greengrass," Bellatrix grins from across the table. You don’t bother forcing a smile. You turn back toward him, who looks about five seconds away from exploding, somehow - you delighted in the sight.

You can't outright show your distaste for this whole arrangement, but he can - and you were counting on it. He will do his very best to defy his family and this marriage, and you were hoping for it.

You shall live vicariously through one Sirius Black who never hesitated, never held back.

"Why the sudden engagement, Mother?" he asks, voice tight. His eyes flick from her to you, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

What - does he think you planned this?

As if you’re some lovesick little fourth-year who begged for this. You’d rather saw off your fingers and feed them to a thestral than claim to fancy him. Which, for the record, you absolutely do not.

"And why not? The Greengrasses are exceptional, pure-blooded wizards." That came from his father, whose sharp eyes cut toward his son. The heir’s scowl disappears quickly - much toi your dismay - he’s learned how to hide behind masks when facing that man. "You are to wed before returning to Hogwarts."

Your jaw went slack at that, your mask dropping for the quickest moment - had it not been for Regulus nudging you, you pursed your lips tight.

Even Malfoy and his betrothed aren’t getting married that quickly. This is madness.

You clear your throat. "Might I make a request?"

His mother looks toward you with interest. You avoid the boy’s gaze altogether - you already know he's trying to burn holes through your skull with a glare and you couldn't care less about what he thinks of you this very moment.

"Would it be possible to push the date back - a year? I am still in mourning. I would like time to study what it means to be a proper wife, to ensure I do not bring shame to the Noble House of Black."

Her smile stays in place. Even through the absurdity, you think you’ve played your cards well. The excuse is believable enough. A year might be enough time to figure out how to get out of this mess. Or rather - for Sirius Black to get out of this mess.

"I don’t see why not," she replies, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. You see how he tenses beneath her touch. And guilt stirs in your chest, unwelcome and heavy.

This must be hard for him too - being forced into an engagement with a Slytherin his parents adore and he clearly resents. The perfect pureblood heiress to wed the pureblood heir from the noble house of Black, just the imagination alone could make a purist cheer gleefully.

But if it were up to you, you wouldn’t even be here.

"Then it is settled. You two shall marry by the end of your sixth year."

You survive dinner.

Somehow.

Today has been a string of horrors. You’ve never longed for rest as desperately as you do now. Normally, you'd be restless, your mind buzzing with ways to fill your time - but tonight, all you want is peace.

You've had a long day.

You met him face-to-face.

Until now, he'd only existed in whispers. The man didn't disappoint. His beauty was eerie, and the darkness around him clung to every inch of the room. You could feel it in your bones.

And now - just when you reach your bedroom door - "We need to talk."

Bloody hell. You turn to face him, already recognizing the voice. He's already leaning against the frame like he's been waiting. You spin back to the door, reaching for the knob. His body shifts to block it.

A defeated sigh escapes you.

"I'm tired. Move."

He doesn't.

You’re not sure how much longer you can play nice, but every nerve in your body is frayed, and his presence is only adding to the chaos.

"I said we need to talk."

You spin back toward him, meeting his eyes with the nastiest look you can summon. "And I said I’m tired."

A silent battle begins - gazes locked, neither of you blinking - until he steps aside.

Your victory is short-lived. He follows you inside and locks the door behind him.

You roll your eyes. "They're in the trunk." He’s looking for the paintings, of course.

You sit at the vanity and begin pulling out the pins from your hair. He stays there - silent and still - watching. His gaze follows your movements. You meet his eyes through the mirror and sigh.

"You came into my room to talk. So talk."

He hesitates. More than once. Lips parting but no words came, you sat rather patiently watching him through the reflection.

"I’m now engaged to you," he finally says.

"I was there when it was announced." you reply in a sarcastic tone.

"You don’t seem surprised."

He steps closer, confusion plain across his annoyingly attractive face. It’s a shame. He’s beautiful, but you’re not foolish enough to let that change anything. You did not fancy him in any way, he was far from your type.

"I’m not surprised." you confirm.

"Was it your idea?"

That pulls a laugh from you. Genuinely, a sound that has not escaped you since - since your parents died, what a talent these Marauders have. "You flatter yourself too much, Black."

You shake your head, still smiling. "Is that all? Because I need to sleep. So, if you don’t mind. . ."

You stand, grabbing his arm, and drag him toward the door. He resists just enough to be a nuisance - his hand flies out to block the doorway. Stopping you from throwing him out like intended.

"I can tell you don’t like me. So why didn’t you say ‘no’?"

You pause. He says it like it was easy. Like all you had to do was shake your head and walk away and they would've let you.

The noble Gryffindor heir. The rebel. The Black who runs toward the fire while the rest of them stoke it. The heir to the pureblood lineage who prided themselves in their prejudice, yet he surrounds himself with muggleborns and traitors alike.

And you? You’re the villain. The obedient little snake who didn’t speak up, who sat quietly while they decided both your fates.

"You’re asking a stupid question," you reply.

Then you kick the back of his knee, watch him wobble, and shove him out of the room.

He stares back at you like you’ve just slapped him.

You give him a pointed look. "I’m sure there’s a brain under that gorgeous hair. Use it."

You try to shut the door, but he stops it with his hand. You fought against the urge to actually slap him in the face just to finally end this day. You let the last bit of your patience run - watching him.

"Greengrass."

He says it like a warning.

You could laugh. He thinks you’ll flinch? After today?

"I gave you a year to find a way out of this," you tell him coldly. "Goodnight, Black."

Then the door slams in his face.

You change into your nightgown, collapse onto the bed, and curl toward the picture on your nightstand. A little girl in braids stood smiling in front of a couple that appeared much older - a perfect mix of their feature, the girl was. So happy despite the fact she was missing a very obvious front tooth.

Sleep is fleeting.

You only got two hours at best from how your shoulders felt heavy - like it wasn't your own.

The rest of the time is spent staring at the ceiling, replaying memories of your old life.

You used to sit on your mother’s lap while your father read aloud by the fire. The house was peaceful and quiet, it was just the three of you while the elves worked in the kitchens and the gardens. Life was perfect.

They believed in purity. They supported the Dark Lord.

They weren’t good people, you knew that much - you never brought into the blood purity nonsense but they did - so you knew deep down that they weren't good people.

But they were good parents.

They never forced their beliefs on you. They encouraged you to explore. To question. They didn’t mind when you played with Muggle children or devoured books on Muggle science, they wanted you to form your own beliefs even if it strayed from theirs.

They supported you.

And then Dragon Pox took them.

A disease no powerful wizard had ever found a cure for. Not even the purest of bloods could escape it. How funny.

You leave your room quietly and wander the halls, hoping to find the kitchen. Instead, you find a shadowed figure in the living room. You attempted to flee as to not meet anyone in the dead of night but -

"Greengrass?"

You pause.

Regulus Black.

You hadn’t seen him there. He has a way of disappearing into his surroundings. In the dim light, his eyes nearly glow. They're the exact same as Sirius' but his appeared colder and deeper - like one could get lost in the depths of them.

"Black," you reply. "I was looking for the kitchen."

He nods slowly, walking closer. When he steps into the light, you see the robe over his pajamas. A book in hand. He must’ve been reading, you neglect to check which book it was.

"I can take you."

You nod. "I’d appreciate that."

You trail behind him, memorizing the turns as you go. He leads you into the kitchen without a word, and you’re relieved to find it empty.

You only wanted water. But even that feels like too much. You don’t want anyone seeing how hollow you’ve become. An entire day dancing around dark wizards and barely two hours of shuteye.

"Here we are."

You linger near the sink. He stands nearby. Watching.

You raise a brow. "You can go back now. I’ll be fine."

He opens his mouth, hesitates, then says, "I’ll escort you back. In case you get lost again."

Thoughtful. But not necessary.

He seems to sense your resistance and turns to leave. You stop him without thinking.

"Didn’t you say you’d escort me back?"

He looks surprised. Then smiles faintly.

You realize you’re still holding his arm. You let go quickly, turn your back, and finally pour yourself a glass of water.

Each motion feels heavy, like your body wanted nothing more than to collapse on itself but you willed with all your might to keep going.

You drink slowly, the silence thick between you.

"I’ll go back now," you say quietly, setting the glass down.

He walks ahead, and you follow. Eyes on his shoes as you didn't feel like watching the back of his head - it's too identical to Sirius and you fear you'd smack it if your control leaves you. You nearly bump into him when he stops outside your room.

You open the door, facing him. "Thank you, Black."

"Might be hard to know who you’re talking to in this house if you stick to last names."

You say nothing. You’re not ready to use names. But the way he talked was unlike you expected, he always seemed so reserved and always kept to himself, you didn't think he had it in him to ask you to be comfortable.

"You’re welcome, Greengrass."

You nod and begin to close the door when he speaks again.

"And I’m sorry," he says softly. "About your parents."

You can’t speak. So you shut the door instead.

And fall onto the bed with your eyes wide open and lips parted slightly from utter shock.

It’s the first time anyone’s said that and actually meant it.

to be continued . . .

part two masterlist

#marauders #marauders era #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus blakc imagine #sirius black #slytherin #slytherin reader

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