#the knight of the round table i'm SURE he was in love with! (even if it was unrequited which like. it definitely was) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moodymisty · 6 months

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𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1 of 5 - Part 2

Author's Note: It's here! The first chapter of the Yandere Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere Night Lord love triangle(corner) fic! It's going to be 4 chapters (5 actually you'll see tehe) and I drafted a good portion of it in advance so it should be smooth posting? We'll see. Enjoy!

Summary: A Night Lord becomes interested in you while you stand under the eyes of your Salamander guardian, and you find yourself stuck between two titans.

Relationship: Yandere!Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere!Night Lord

Warnings: Hints of nsfw at points, Yandere, Size differences, Very toxic suffocating relationship(s), Some knight/princess dynamics, Demeaning language, Both these guys have hero complexes, Violence blood and bruises and possibly death to say without spoilers

Word Count: 2068

Word travels fast aboard even the largest of ships, you had learned quite quickly.

Space marine legions are not fond of working with one another, was what you had learned first. Many times even different squads within this same Legion can butt heads, as different styles of commanding and battle conflict with one other. Salamanders often try and remain cordial when problems within them arise, but friction was and is inevitable.

The second, was Vulkan was apparently quite firm with his legion that they were to welcome their temporary allies with respect. At least that is what you’ve heard from any Salamander that you’ve heard mumbling as you pass by, or any that have given you a moment of their time. That’s all you know, and these tidbits of knowledge fail to put together a full picture that you can understand. Their lips have been quite tight other than the bare minimum they believe you need to know.

Or what you can get from them if you ask very nicely; Much like the Commissars and Lords you've dealt with over the years, it seems Salamanders aren't immune to a bit of flattery also. You just need to make sure he doesn't find out, as you know how displeased he gets whenever he finds out you went wandering around chattering with his brothers.

Speaking of...

You can ask him about it; You just need to wait for him.

He always visits you in the librarium, once his second round of training is concluded. He then goes for his five hours of rest, and the cycle restarts. Though even if it isn't that time, you know he still keeps a keen eye on you.

You don’t wish to bother him with an issue as seemingly meaningless as gossip, but none of your fellows have been able to piece together what's happening, as none of the Salamanders have loosened their lips about it in the slightest.

It's made you more than a bit unnerved; Knowing that something is wrong but no one will tell you what it is. The tenseness in your neck is worse, and sirens and calls once normal now make you jolt when they sound off.

The large piece of parchment in front of you remains nearly empty, apart from the crude outline. Commander Artellus's face is fresh in your mind, but you for some reason can't put it to parchment.

You hear the sound of harsh, heavy boots on the ground, and turn to see who you've been waiting for coming towards you. You shift in your seat and turn to see him coming.

“Ralkan; You’re back,”

You smile wide at him, a put down the pen you'd been fruitlessly trying to use. The way his eyes look down at you is warm, his helmet hanging on the side of his hip. He stands close to where you sit alone at the massive table, covered in a mess of materials. The ink in your well shakes with waves, when he steps closer.

“You should have been there this time. I feel like I'm missing something now without your curious looks.”

You smile even wider and laugh, remembering the time. He had outpreformed Salamanders his senior, and you wondered if he was overdue for an ascension in rank, or if he was simply showing off.

“I'll come next time. As long as your battle brothers don’t mind me seeing your training again.”

He places a massive gauntlet on your shoulderblades, thumb against the side of your neck.

"They won't, I am sure of it. Though I hope you'll reserve your cheering only for me again."

His hand brushes along the upper half of your back before it slides away, his chainsword hanging neatly on his back. He looks out the massive window to the vast reaches of space directly in front of your makeshift desk for a moment, before pulling his bolter off his thigh and checking it.

He’s always meticulous. He’s been trained into flawless discipline, and it shows in every aspect of his existence. From the way he keeps his thoughts closed to the way each piece of armor and each weapon must be meticulously maintained.

You can hear the mechanics of his armor shift as he moves, but you can only tolerate few more beats of the near silence before you can’t help it anymore. Your pen twirls in your hand as a soothing gesture before you speak up.

“Ralkan?”

You look up to him, sniffling from the disturbed dust in your nose. He turns to look at you as you abandon your parchment, and finally put pen down and place your ink stained hands in your lap.

You hesitate for a moment, pursing your lips and looking away from his hard gaze as he turns back to you.

“What is happening?”

He is genuinely confused by your question for a moment, before he realizes what it is you're asking about, and his face stiffens. But still he doesn't answer. It irks you; Thinking that he’s trying to keep this all from you. You add on to your earlier question.

“I know that you are going to be fighting alongside another legion, but why are all of you acting like it's something you're all dreading?”

Perhaps you might simply be a guest aboard this ship, gifted from Terra to a legion eager to put their deeds to written memory, but you wish to know more than the servitors do. You pull your hands from your lap and lightly slap the table with them, gripping the edge.

“Ralkan, Who are the Night Lords?”

It is so instantly apparent that you struck something in him, as his body visibly tenses and his face briefly flashes with anger as a legion's name other than his own leaves your tongue.

He makes eye contact with you, the burning red of his eyes making your curiosity waver. But you still want to know- need to know. He takes a step closer, and his left hand rests against the surface of the table. He lets out a tense breath.

“The Night Lords are the 8th legion. They," Ralkan tries to find the words, pausing for a moment. "The way they wage battle is in near direct opposition to us Salamanders."

He speaks the name with a stern, cold demeanor. It fills you with a hesitant sort of interest.

These legions; Have they really developed cultures so unique that they find themselves unrecognizable to each other?

“They have no respect. They will cull entire cities for the slightest infraction.” He looks to you, and he catches that your curiosity it still taking hold; You lack the fear that he's trying to instill in you.

He takes a step forward, and you can hear his armor hiss and grind as he lowers to a knee, now only a head taller than you as you sit. He puts his hand on your shoulder again, but it lacks the gentleness it had the last time, as he grabs tight and forces you to face him. You wouldn’t be able to pull away even if you wanted to; And while he is still trying to be gentle, his gauntlet still yearns to bruise your skin underneath your clothing. The seams of his armor dig into your flesh even through the fabric.

“They are going to be crawling over the ship soon. Do not let them even see you. You cannot run from them and they will know it.” His hand makes sure you can’t look even the tiniest bit away from him. “They will take advantage of your weakness. You must stay here, in your quarters, or close to me. I was charged with protecting you, and I will see it through.”

There’s not many places on this ship you go, at least without him. He is your guard, or perhaps more accurately your handler. He is in charge of making sure you don’t wander where you don’t belong, as even if the Salamanders have been welcoming to a remembrancer on their ship, they have their limits. For your safely and their privacy.

This ship- A world for giants, it isn't meant for someone like you either. Ralkan makes it a bit easier to navigate.

Though out of all the titles he's been given, he seems to enjoy calling himself your knight first and foremost. You assume it’s simply a part of their culture, you’ve heard other Salamanders call themselves knights as well. The tone is different, but you assume it’s simply Ralkan’s own brand of oddity. Perhaps he isn't fully cognizant of the intimate undertone behind saying such a thing to you.

Stuck in his grip, your nose wrinkles as you try to say something in defiance, to learn a bit more, but you know this it all you'll get from him. Even if you ask sweetly.

“I just wanted to know what was happening. I'll," You turn your face away from him and blow air from between your tight lips. "I'll stop the questions about it."

There isn’t much you can say otherwise in the matter anyhow. You want to trust him, and to listen to him, but perhaps it’s simply curiosity that makes you hesitate on the matter. Or naivety he probably assumes, as much as that irritates you.

He lets out an audible sigh of relief, and loosens the hand on your shoulder, it drifting up your neck before it cups your jaw. The other joins it on the opposite side, holding your face in his gauntlets. They're so gentle, even with cold ceramite between your skin and his.

“You know I do this to protect you, yes?” He continues, his eyes soft as they gaze over you. “I only want for you to be safe here. With me. I have seen these astartes before; I know what they are capable of.”

His eyes are warm, brow softened. You always enjoy when he looks at you this way, even if you might fear of what lays between you being far beyond the supposed title of knight and his charge.

He leans forward, and his forehead touches your own. You feel like he wishes to do more, but is forcing it back. Your bare hand lays overtop of his gauntlet, and you smile at him.

But after a moment, he leans back away from you.

“I must leave now. My brothers and I are part of the battalion that is due to greet our temporary allies.”

You so desperately don’t want him to leave, but at the same time, you wonder if the weight on your chest will finally dissipate if he does.

He rises, and in doing so also removes his hands from your jaw. His cape shifts behind him just barely brushing against the floor, and you swear you can hear the crackling of a vox channel in his helmet. His battalion must be calling for him.

“I will return soon. Please, do not forget what I have said.” You nod in understanding, and pick up your pen. He smiles at you after you do, and turns to leave. You turn to watch for a moment, until he's out of your sight. You turn back to face the table and let out a sigh, rubbing your jaw.

You didn’t want him to leave, but at times Ralkan can be so, suffocating. His very energy is that way, many of the astartes are, but Ralkan seems to have his grip around you particularly tight.

You sum it up to him being dedicated to the safely of their brand new remembrancer. The sheen of a new toy that hasn't worn off yet. Or perhaps him simply wishing to make sure you don't deviate from the path, and tread where you aren't welcome.

You assume the ladder, though the way he looks at you fills you with doubt.

You aren't opposed to him being fond, but he is so overwhelming. You might consider yourself lucky you think you feel the same way, as you don't know if you'd be able to get free of his grip if you didn't.

You don’t forget his words, but as you write word after word, and the drawing of Commander Artellus's face slowly forms, your mind begins to fall into the paper, and his voice becomes little more than a tickle in the back of your mind.

#warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #salamander x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting #Yandere!Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere!NightLord

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cynthia39100 · 1 month

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Merlin rewatch -- S2E13: The Last Dragonlord

Arthur didn't get to be King Arthur in s1 finale so I'm so happy to see him shine in this episode even though it's mostly Merlin's story. Arthur was doing all the work for once 😆 He had to fight in the front line, lead the army, report to the King and go on a manhunt mission.

“I know you’re tired, but make one last effort for me.” “Stay strong! For tonight is not your night to die I’ll make sure of that!”

A good commander from the very start~ Bradley gave the best inspirational words 💕 He just had a way made every word sound so genuine and grounded also effortless. Of course everyone would follow him to death at the end.

It’s like a mini round table moment XD. Arthur was so determined and charismatic. It’s a nice little character growth from the Arthur in another suicide mission -- the griffin, a scared young prince chased out to the battle field by his father.

It’s a significant scene because Arthur was commanding the knights in Uther’s presence, who already lost all hope and will to fight. Arthur was the king in all but name in this war against the dragon. He called all the actions and Uther had no way of interfering. Like when he insisted on going to find Balinor.

“It is our duty to find him.” “My concern is for Camelot.” I love how calm he was in the face of Uther’s opposition. This kind of thing came so naturally to him that he said them almost casually. His voice was even and gentle. A part of it was that he was too exhausted to have a shouting match. But also, it’s just a fundamental value for him to do everything in his power for his people. Uther’s loud order or tender concern wasn’t at all affecting him.

Merlin in the background was making some awesome faces too~ His face shone with amazement, either for Arthur’s goodness or how unfazed he was in front of Uther. Gorgeous.

[S2E13] [other episodes]

#merlin rewatch 2024 #bbc merlin #rewatch: the last dragonlord #arthur pendragon #bradley james #once and future king

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felassan · 3 months

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Just poring over some of the new images. ◕‿◕

Docktown, Minrathous (in the daytime, in contrast with the gameplay reveal video), reminding us that Minrathous is built on an island. maybe the magic-monorail-looking bridge here is actually the single bridge that goes to Minrathous, like in the lore?

Docktown is the home of Neve. the distinctive floating building is in the distance again. compared to Ferelden, the buildings in Minrathous are like another planet entirely! Tevene architecture/design is so hostile - spikes on chairs, spikes on the sides of buildings.. I wonder if the doorway here is the entrance to the tavern/bar here [second image]. if you look in the window to the left of the door, the figure on the right could be the 'bouncer' at the top of the steps in the bar image. also, outside of here are tables and barrels, like you might expect outside a tavern establishment.

I'm curious about the heraldry of the boat in the harbor with the blue unfurled flags. it reminds me a bit of this Fereldan heraldry, but the animals are the wrong way round and it isn't quite right. either way, the heraldic animal is also present as the prow of that boat and one other.

Elf Rook (either City or Dalish but without vallaslin applied in CC), Emmrich and Harding. Rook is a sword-and-shield warrior here, Veilguard symbol on their chest plate, Warden symbol on their shield. Maybe this Rook has the Grey Warden background? anyways, looking closely at Rook's chest plate here, with the gray metal armor, the purple Veilguard symbol on the left, the 'bandolier' of three brown leather pouches across their chest, and the diagonal lines on the plate going the other way, it looks like maybe this Rook is wearing the same 'iconic[?] Rook outfit' as in the key art, or at least the torso piece. They both also have the metal shoulder plates, purple fabric over the elbow area, brown leather gauntlet etc. It's just that in this screenshot Rook isn't wearing a helmet/hood (or has them toggled off in the Options menu? ^^). anyways, I love that purple seems to be the 'iconic[?]' color for Rook, and also look at how this long-haired Rook's hair flows and sits around their neck and shoulders! and again the detailing is cool, like scratches on the shield and stuff.

Harding's arrow is glowing. Is her bow or arrow enchanted or have some kind of stat buff, or could this be an example of her magical powers in action, like her tarot card art might suggest? also, we can see from the tall skeleton/undead statues in the background and the skull-lid vases in the foreground that this shot is from the Necropolis.

The groupshot at HQ is so [cat crying screaming].. 🥺🥺 I love it so much, with the round table it has like Knights of the Round Table vibes or something and it's so nice to see everyone together and in their casual outfits too. I hope there are lots of moments like this in the game. ^^ Davrin is whittling wood, something that reminds me of Halsin and my Inquisitor (who is Dalish, and also had that hobby). Did some people.. bring their chair of choice to the meeting room hh? Davrin's looks like it was carved from a tree stump. Harding and Neve have a comfy sofa. Emmrich's looks kind of gothic and Nevarran. Taash's stool [?] is gold and practical-looking.

Taash looks so bored hhh. here we can see Bellara without her magical gauntlet. Do you think Manfred and Assan come to the team meetings..? :D Lucanis has impeccable tailoring, with lil bird-skull looking buttons at his collar. he's buttoned right up and professional looking even in his casual downtime, even when some of the others are the opposite. unsurprisingly his casual clothes have that blue-black corvid feather sheen. surely he has coffee in his mug. ^^ I wonder what Neve's drink of choice is though? from the way Lucanis leans here, do you think Lucanis and Emmrich is one of the companion-companion relationships that might develop like Taash and Harding?

Harding looks so cute and cozy on the couch with the cushion and her slippers, I can't take it. and I really love Neve's casual look with her scarf and hair like that!!

I think this scene is probably from the Lighthouse. Game Informer mentioned that it had a library, which is the central area of the The Lighthouse, and that it's there the party will often regroup and prepare for what’s next. Could this be one of those moments in there? ^^ in the background are stacks of books, and books on shelves, like a library would have. on the table is an assortment of scrolls, maps, papers. you can see a feather quill pen and red wax seals. having the maps in front of Davrin, a Warden and monster-hunter who has probably travelled far and quite a lot, is a nice touch. some of the books look quite ornate and arcane-ish, and are there a few of the 'Bellara'-style triangles on the table as well? and what do you suppose is the blue diamond-looking thing with white veins on the table?

(I'm also curious what the golden thing in the top right is.)

we can tell from the way it looks but we also know from a file name that this is the Rivain Coast. it's beautiful, it looks so bright and hot, the water is so blue. we first saw this locale in the Thedas Calls trailer from Dragon Age Day 2023. again, in the distance, we can see that statue.

From a file name, this is Arlathan Forest. everything is suffused in soft golden light, almost whimsical and Fable-like the Game Informer piece said. this shot is framed with those familiar trees with orange foliage e.g one, two, three. this place reminds me of some of the elvhen ruins we got to see in Trespasser. in the top right is green Veil/Fade shenanigans. a place where the Veil is weak, or the edge of this particular Veil bubble? past the wall of green it looks like some of the buildings are broken thanks to the warping, and there are floating rocks.

and look closely at some of the assets -

there's an owl, which are associated with Falon'Din and Andruil. lots of those howling Fen'Harel wolf statues. they look just like they do in DA:I (I don't mean that they look bad graphically or old or anything, just that the details are the same!!) which is awesome for consistency (also cool to see these return, so many of the art assets in DA:I were rly cool), and might even be the same assets being re-used (which is sensible and sensical for game design, something Mark Darrah talked about before). nb, just in case, I'm not saying this as a comment against asset re-use, it makes sense to do and I was excited to see these DA:I or DA:I-style ones in these caps!

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #feels #solas #inquisitor

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neverchecking · 1 year

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hi i just discovered your blog and your writing is amazing 😳 could i request wild x reader, breeding kink? can be yandere or not, up to you!

This deleted twice- if it does it again I'm going to cry-

You ABSOLUTELY can. You can, you can you can-

I have a bit of a favorite. sue me.

If your looking for some noice breeding stuff with wild, @fanfic-fairy-fountain has some mouth watering, thigh clenching, till it remembers every vein DILF! Wild content that made me bark man.

Anyway, Smut so MDNI! 18+

Smut CW: AFAB reader, Breeding Kink. Wild being his namesake, mans has baby fever badly.

He couldn't explain it.

After coming out of the shrine of Resurrection, he had felt...lost. Like a shattered vase with too many pieces missing to have any hope of being put back together. He was no longer the knight that Zelda boasted around- that Link died in the shrine over a century ago- even if it didn't stop her from parading him around like a show pony. He wasn't a champion of old, Revali was right about one thing. He was just...Link. Link of Hateno, who lived on the outskirts of the small village. Who came into town every once in while for supplies. Who otherwise kept to himself, but remained friendly, as long as his companion was happy.

The village couldn't quite place what you meant to him, but that was fine. He knew what you meant to him. You were his Goddess. His reason for living. You kept him sane. You saw his shatter pieces and decided they were worth it. You saw his jagged edges and razor sharp features and soothed them all with a gentle hand and graceful words. You placed yourself firmly in his life without any intentions of leaving. He wouldn't let you leave anymore anyway.

Not when you had made such an impact in his life. Not when you put value in something he saw as worthless. Not when you put your entire trust into believing he could be someone worthy of your love. How could he let something like you, such a blessing, go? He couldn't.

And what better way to keep him tied to you by doing everything you asked of him? Want him to slay an entire monster camp? Elementary. Want him to go, venture out into the wilderness just to hunt this incredibly rare animal? Done. Want to sit on his face and choke him with your thighs? You better be ready to suffocate him because he's not coming out until your coming undone over top of him. Wanna ride his thighs? He's sitting prim and proper for you. Want to tie him up in satin ribbons to use for your own desires?

Just tell him when.

Anything to keep you happy. So when you came up to him, asking him so nicely to breed you, to fill you up, who was he to say no?

So he didn't.

Honestly, what better way to tell everyone you were his, and his alone than to fatten you up with his child? To make you round and plump with his seed. To tie you to him for the rest of your lives.

There was no better way he realized.

Sure he could paint your neck and back and chest and thighs in bitemarks and bruises in his own signature color, singing his name on you in his own unique way. Sure he could put the fattest, prettiest rock he could mine on your finger, watching as you wore it with pride. Sure he could that all.

But none of it quite painted you as his as a child did. An absolute precious little being a perfect mix of the two of you. He could see it now. And absolute angel with your hair and nose, maybe his eyes and ears. Filled with his trademark sense of curiosity, only to be paired with a healthy sense of caution you would instill in them.

Would you want an entire Litter of children to trample along your feet? Or maybe just two or three to focus your attention to carry your legacy? Or perhaps just one perfect mix of you two to shape into the best person this world had to offer.

Didn't matter. He would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Right now? You wanted to be filled.

And he would comply, tearing your tunic and bottoms from your body and pinning you to the dining room table. One hand kept your chest to the table, pushing between your shoulder blades as he freed himself with a single hand. Your whines and please, all but begging for him to breed you, fill you, start your family right then and there ignited a fiery inferno underneath of him, just aching to make your dreams come true.

Anything to keep you tied to him.

His grip was practically bruising as he pulled your hips to meet his with every thrust, ensuring the head of his cock kissed your cervix with every plunge. It had you crying out for him over and over again, tears pearling in your eyes. He cooed at your trembling form, leaning over you without loosing tempo to thumb away your tears. He kissed your cheeks, temples, anywhere he could reach really, letting the one hand left holding your hips drift to fiddle with your clit. He circled it in steady circles, making the tears come back as you jutted against him, thighs twitching wildly.

"Shh, that's it wildflower, just let me take care of you. Leave everything to me. I'll fill you up so nicely, you'll have no choice but to carry our child. In no time at all, you'll be all round and gorgeous, telling everyone you're mine. All mine."

You came with with a hard cry, milking him for what you desperately craved. And if you wanted it, he'd give it to you. The one hand that was gently brushing your tears away snaked between your body and the table, gently cupping your throat so he could pull you against his chest while the other one returned to your hips. He pulled you flush against him, biting into your neck with a muted growl as he emptied into your womb.

But that wouldn't be enough. No. he wouldn't be satisfied until you were nothing but a brainless little thing, trusting him to breed you, and even then, one more wouldn't hurt, would it?

You'd get the child you wanted. He'd make sure of it.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #cindersins #linkeduniverse #loz #legend of zelda #yandere wild x reader #lu wild x reader #lu wild #wild x reader #yandere legend of zelda x reader #yandere legend of zelda #link x reader #yandere link x reader #loz x reader #yandere loz x reader

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hongtiddiez · 4 months

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my stand in ep 4 thoughts, feelings, etc

WOW WA WE WAA THAT SURE WAS AN EPISODE HUH - happy to report i went back through the episode slowly this week and took notes and really tried to gather everything i wanted to say (but i will inevitably forget something)

🌸 ok disclaimers because i have a lot of them for this particular episode 🌸

i'm just a silly guy on the internet, i'm not an expert in mental health, psychology, body language, whatever. most days i can't even take care of myself. i'm just saying things recreationally.

PLEASE do not put novel spoilers in my replies, reblogs, or tags without a warning notice. i've got an itchy blocking finger for it these days.

i am treating ming and joe and everyone involved in this show as if they were real life human beings. ming was not born some mustache twirling villain sent from hell to make joe miserable. joe is not some pure angel descended from the clouds to do no wrong. everyone in this show exhibits very human behavior and that can be distressing under certain circumstances. i'm just going to comment on them as humans. i'm not interested in a round table discussion on why a character is irredeemable, the scum of the earth, etc. i'm just putting my thoughts out there and you can take them or leave them.

🌸 alright yucky disclaimer time over 🌸

the episode really just picks us back up where everything left off - and yet joe still made ming breakfast, and ming isn't stupid (well right now at least,) he knows something is off.

i am confused why tong needs to get married on this specific day. and like bro how fast are you getting married? relax. the whole thing is just unstoppable force (trajectory of this producers career) meets immovable object (tong's fuckass stubbornness) and the collateral damage is massive.

and then there's the question of did joe ever want to play a lead? or did he let his impulsiveness and hurt put a target on his back? (only emphasized by the fact that everyone assumed joe would turn down the role)

i DO apologize for all my doubt surrounding wut. he, ja, and may are the only people in this show with any god damn sense. maybe jojo and yim. we'll see.

getting into the confrontation at joe's work, i really don't think it's that surprising when we keep in mind ming genuinely has no fucking clue what is going on. all he knows is joe woke up, was acting weird, didn't come home, and then told him to pack up his shit and leave with ZERO explanation. like, joe's completely in the right, but i'd also be confused as fuck. (i wouldn't go to someone's work about it but, y'know, we know ming acts in extremes.)

and to me this is where it really became obvious that joe has always been able to overpower ming, to get away from him, as we have seen joe's physical prowess, we've seen what he's capable of, but he never uses his body to move ming away from him - that's not who joe is, he's not someone that would put his hands on another person like that. it's just another way ming and joe are the direct antithesis of each other.

it's my thought that the argument escalates because ming is used to getting everything he wants - except for tong, and now joe. when joe begins to push him away and deny him his substitution for tong i think ming lashes out in his hurt with a thought of "it's happening again, why doesn't anyone want me?"

i will say while i do believe sol has good intentions for the most part his white knighting is getting a little irksome. while convenient, it just shows how much he's still hovering and laying in wait for a chance with joe - he, too, is not respecting joe's wishes. no is a complete sentence, sol.

and then things continue back at home and joe finally, finally throws ming's words back at him: if i'm so terrible to be with, if you're so great, why are you wasting your time with me?

and ming doesn't have an answer. what ming DOES have is another back embrace, arms wrapped around joe as he asks "don't you love me anymore?" but is he asking joe or tong?

"although i'm not as good as tong" even now joe's rampant self worth issues are still at play but at least he finally knows he's worth more than whatever this is.

then the phone rings and to me, ming looks skittish. he looks shaken. he's never seen joe so angry and he's scared and as the call progresses that fear morphs into rage when sol calls joe. and the thing is, regardless of who played the main role, ming was never going to be happy. it was either going to be joe or tong playing opposite sol and neither of those things would have been acceptable.

and then i said, out loud, in my quiet office: OH! and promptly lost my shit in the group chat.

ming doesn't look wholly present after his act of violence. his face is vacant, like he isn't completely seeing or grasping what he's just done. i get the impression that ming isn't mentally well; stress and fear and anger have a way of making people do really fucking stupid things and as these things happen you risk falling into the sunk cost fallacy - you've already gone this far, you can't stop now - which all aligns with the obsessive behavior we've seen from ming in the past.

as joe wakes up and they talk once again joe doesn't blame ming, he blames himself for not seeing the writing on the walls even though it was written in invisible ink.

"all these times we were together did you ever love me?"

"you can't tell?"

again, so much of the blame and emotional responsibility of their situationship is put on joe and ming refuses to communicate any of his feelings, perhaps because he doesn't know how to after repressing everything for so long.

WE DIDN'T GET HOT KINKY CHAINED UP SEX THOUGH, WHY DOES GOD HATE ME SPECIFICALLY

but the way joe looks at ming as they linger there in the wake of joe's request looks like a goodbye, the way his eyes soak in every detail of ming's face. despite all of this and the nightmare it has turned into he did love ming, perhaps still does, and he does have some of those good memories he was so desperate to keep.

though like.. joe.... maybe we could consider a different career path??? instead of just jumping to risking our lives? like sure food service sucks, cashiering sucks, etc. but you aren't in danger of falling off any cliffs, you know? and let's be real, he could just go into modeling with those looks.

it's my impression that when ming calls joe he looks haggard, like he's lost numerous nights of sleep (and we really don't know how much time has passed) but either way it does seem like he's at least done some amount of reflecting. his voice comes across soft, subdued, and sincere.

and after everything, back in the present, we see ming. he's still in the apartment, desperately calling joe's name all these years later, still unable to sleep and waiting for joe to come home just like he asked him to years ago.

maybe ming never wanted to enter the entertainment industry before, but he has now. perhaps it was never for the attention or the money, maybe he chose to promote those watches because it was a reminder of the gift from joe. and maybe this job, in this specific industry, is the closest he can feel to joe now. and maybe with new influence and connections ming can find out why he was never able to tell joe he loved him before he lost him.

WHO KNOWS, NOT ME, CAN'T WAIT TO FIND OUT THO

#oat meta #my stand in #my stand in the series #usersasa #clairedaring #i can never find a good place to mention it but in like ep 1 ming knows how joe takes his coffee #after just like 1 day with him so like ming IS paying attention and DOES care for joe #as we see reinforced with his little gifts and the way he went shopping with him and stuff #the things ming does to show his love and care are very blink and you'll miss it #and it's hard for me to squeeze in my thoughts on that between everything else going on

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vodika-vibes · 5 months

Text

The War Chest

A Magic and Knights AU

Summary: It’s been fifty years since the war between Mandalore and Serrano ended. A war that ended with an uneasy peace between the two nations…an uneasy peace that has since grown into something stronger. You are a daughter of one of the Noble Houses of Serrano, though only through marriage. You stand to inherit nothing from your step-family, unlike your mother. So, in an attempt to get your feet under you, you turn to treasure hunting.

Pairing: Pre Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 5400

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @the-bad-batch-baroness

A/N: So, I know Kix already has a story in this AU, but I'm giving him another one that is unconnected from the last one. This one, I think, fits a little better with the rest of the stories. Also, there's a fun little twist at the end that I'm not sure about, honestly. Anyway, I started writing this at 8 am and it's now 2 pm, and I managed to write it without any breaks. Go me~

“Rumor has it,” You arch a single brow as the man you’re talking to, a pirate who you’ve had more than one run in with, “That Count Dooku’s War Chest has been discovered.”

You wave your hand as if brushing the rumor aside, “Everyone knows that Dooku’s War Chest was propaganda from Mandalore.” You counter with a roll of your eyes.

“That was the accepted fact. 50 years ago.” He leans into your space and you lean back to try and keep him from breathing in your face, “Come on, girlie. You’re not even remotely curious.”

“I’m far more interested in facts, Shen. Not fairy tales.”

“Bah! You’re no fun.”

“If you want someone willing to chase fairy tales, you should be talking to Lyna, not me.” You eye your drink, and then push it to the side.

“Lyna is an archeologist,” Shen counters bitterly, “She’s all, ‘this belongs in a museum’ and ‘we should return this to its rightful owner’. She’s even less fun than you!”

“Come on, you tell her about Dooku’s war chest, and she’ll be all over it,” You say as you lean back in your chair, “Can you give me anything more than fairy tales?”

“No.” He folds his arms, “You were more fun when you were running with the crew.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you’ve mentioned. If you’re not going to try and help, you can take off. Find some other patsy to do the research for you.”

Shen scowls at you, and then pushes to his feet and storms away. He hasn’t changed since you were kids, tragic but understandable.

In any event, you’re not going to get any intel on your next score here. So you suppose that the archives is your next destination. Which is a shame, the archivists are always so annoying when you decide to visit.

They’re all, “Oh, Lady Nalcin has come for a visit!” Which is annoying since, A, you’re not Lady Nalcin, that position belongs to your mother. And B, you don’t even carry that Nalcin last name, seeing as your father is still alive.

Mother just had to marry Serrano nobility, didn’t she.

You push away from the table and shove your hands into your pockets as you meander through the bar. You step through the open door, into the cool air of the autumn evening and you inhale deeply.

You love this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold, and none of the plants you’re allergic to are spewing pollen. If you could live someplace where it’s autumn year round, you’d be a happy woman.

Tragically, such places don’t exist.

You turn to the left, starting towards the inn you’re staying at for the time being, when you hear heavy footsteps behind you. You tense and half turn, your baton falling into your hand from where it’s stored in your sleeve.

And then you turn properly.

The person running up to you looks like a college students, slightly younger than you, with wide eyes hidden behind thick glasses. She’s gasping for breath, and is barely able to say your name

But, garbled as it is, she does say your name.

You slide your baton back up your sleeve, and take a good look at her. She’s well dressed, and she’s wearing a brooch that marks her as a daughter of one of the High Houses. She’s also nearly bent in two trying to catch her breath.

“...are you okay?” You ask, after watching her gasp for air for a moment.

“I-” She gasps out, “Not fit-”

“...I can tell.”

The younger woman takes a deep breath and then straightens, “My name is Evie Wilsi, I’m the oldest daughter of House Wilsi. You are the daughter of Lord Nalcin, right?”

“Step-daughter.” You correct flatly.

“Yes. That.” She takes a step towards you, “You’re…something of an archeologist, right?”

“In a manner of speaking, sure.”

“I want to hire you!”

“...what?”

The girl flushes, “I…um…sorry. I would like to hire you, please.”

You stare at her and arch a single brow, waiting for her to continue.

“I want to hire you to find Dooku’s war-” You roll your eyes and turn your back on her to walk away, “W-wait!” She grabs your wrist and then scrambles so she’s standing in front of you, “I know that this sounds…insane-”

“Dooku’s War Chest doesn’t exist.” You say flatly, “It was a rumor. No more.”

“I have reason to believe that it does exist.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Look, Miss Wilsi, I don’t chase fairy tales. Period.” You tug your hand out of her loose grip and step around her to continue to the inn.

“2 million.”

You stop mid-step, and turn your head to stare at her, “I beg your pardon.”

Her hands are clenched into fists near her chin, “Two million credits. You’ll get two million credits just for taking the contract, and another two million when you find the war chest.”

You turn to face her fully, “And if the war chest doesn’t exist?”

“Then…then you’ll still get the second half of your payment. But only after you exhaust all avenues.”

“And you can afford this?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes narrow at her, “Prove it.”

She nods and pulls out her comm, pulling up her banking information, before she turns the device towards you. You glance at the number on the screen and your brows raise, “Four million credits is almost your entire bank account, is this worth that much to you?”

“Yes.” She stows her comm again, “It’s…everything to me.”

You fold your arms, and shift your weight slightly as you examine her. Over the years, you’ve become very good at reading people. Part of it is your natural magic, an innate ability to read intentions off of people, most of it, however, is just experience.

She’s being honest.

Not only does she believe that the War Chest is real, it really does mean everything to her.

You drop your arms, “Fine. But I want to be paid immediately.”

“Deal! Is there someplace we can…talk?”

You turn your back on her, and start walking away, and then you pause and glance over your shoulder, “Follow.” You don’t want to see if she’s following your instructions, you just start walking, your feet leading you to your favorite food cart.

“A…food cart?”

“Don’t knock it til you try it,” You reply as you order a caf and move to the side to wait until it’s done. Your maybe employer’s nose is scrunched up in distaste.

“Is this where you want to talk?”

“Surrounded by people? No.” You accept the cup of caf, and motion for her to keep following you. You lead her down several winding roads, and then make a sharp left into the biggest cemetery in the area.

You notice her hesitate at the gate, but you don’t slow down. If this means as much to her as she implies, as much as your magic is telling you it means to her, she’ll follow you anyway.

And you’re right.

Though she dithers at the gate for half a minute, eventually she hurries to catch up with you as you head into the older parts of the cemetery. As soon as you’re sure that there isn’t anyone around you can listen in on your conversation, no one alive at least, you perch yourself on the worn down stone wall and stare at the other woman.

“Alright. I’m all ears.”

“Here?” She asks, her voice hushed, “Isn’t it…disrespectful?”

You just tilt your head, “People don’t come to this part of the cemetery, which means no one can eavesdrop.”

“Right. Right.” Evie paces in front of you for a moment, and then she stops, “How much do you know of the Six Great Houses?”

“Assume I know nothing.”

“Right. Right! Okay. I can work with that.” Her hands curl into fists again, “There is a hierarchy to the six families, with House Dooku at the top of the pyramid, and House Wilsi at the bottom. House Nalcin is nearer to the top than the bottom.”

You lean back on the wall and take a sip of your caf, waiting for her to continue.

“This is why, 50 years ago, it was so easy for House Dooku to incite a war with Mandalore.” Evie continues.

“As I understand it,” You interrupt, “House Dooku was manipulated into it by what’s his face from Naboo.”

Evie looks genuinely pained, “You mean Court Wizard Palpatine?”

“That’s the bitch.”

She takes a deep breath, “You’re right. He was, and it was only after Count Dooku was killed that we were able to sue for peace-”

You sigh heavily, “Evie, what does this have to do with the price of chicken in Corellia?”

“...what?”

“Why does this matter?”

“Oh. Well, my family lost a lot of clout during the war…we sided with House Dooku. It seemed like a politically sound choice…so when the peace treaty was signed…we lost almost all of our status. We almost lost our noble name.”

“And?”

“And, finding Dooku’s war chest will do so much in helping us recover from this.”

“If it exists.”

“It does! It does. I’ve been researching this for years, my whole family has, and we have a solid lead.” Evie says as she steps closer to you, “It’s…here.” She digs into her purse and shoves a thin notebook at you, “All of the evidence is there, if you know where to look-”

You set your cup to the side and flip the notebook open, every page is filled with different handwriting. The notebook has clearly been in the works for years.

“Count Dooku had a safe house. He had many safe houses, in many different countries. But in the middle of the war, he vanished for three months. My family thinks he went to Hoth.”

You arch a brow, “Well, if that’s where he decided to hide his war chest, it explains why no one has found it.”

“Yes! Exactly. According to records, Count Dooku’s safe house was up in the mountains of Hoth, which would be nearly impossible for anyone to traverse at the time-”

“It’s still impossible to traverse.” You point out, “The storms of Hoth never stop, and you need special gear and equipment to survive even the lower parts-”

“Yes, but you’ve done the impossible before.” Evie says, “I mean, you’re the one who found Palpatine’s palace in Mustafar-”

“You’re not wrong, I just hate that you mentioned it.” You mutter.

“Can you help?”

You stare at her, silently, for a moment, and then you sigh and nod. “Yeah, alright.”

“Really! Oh, this is-”

You hold up a finger, silencing her, “Several conditions. 1, I hold on to this for as long as it takes for me to read it cover to cover.”

“Deal!”

“2, you are coming with me. It’s the only way for your family to get all of the credit.”

“Of course. I’ll even pay for everything we need to survive-”

“3,” You interrupt again, “We can’t leave for 6 months.”

“...what! Why?”

“I’m not fool enough to try and climb a mountain in Hoth in the dead of winter. And good luck trying to find anyone who will.” You say flatly.

“...you raise a fair point. So we’ll head out in the spring.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Evie claps her hands together in excitement, “Oh! You won’t regret this! I promise.”

Your gaze drifts off of her, lingering on a dark thread connecting Evie with something else, a thread that only you can see with your magic, “Well,” You murmur, “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it.”

“Hm?” Evie tilts her head, “Oh! Right, payment.” She pulls her comm out and hurriedly, very hurriedly, sends you the two million credits that you’re owed for taking her contract.

You watch your bank account shoot up, and then promptly move the money from that account into your personal account, “I need your comm code,” You say once that’s done, “I’ll call you when we’re ready to leave.”

“I can’t wait!”

And then Evie is gone, hurrying out of the cemetery with none of the grace that you’d expect to see from a lady of her standing.

You watch her leave, and then pick up your cup of caf and take a sip, while eyeing the notebook thoughtfully, “Well, it won’t be boring at least.”

7 Months Later

Hoth is a miserable place.

Frigid even in the dead of summer, with very few animals that won’t kill you as soon as they see you.

True to her word, Evie did prepare everything that you might need for an expedition, and then some. You have a base camp, vehicles that are suited for the freezing weather, and cold weather gear that is light enough to move in, yet heavy enough to protect you from the biting wind.

There are also people. So many people. Aides and attendants, and bodyguards. Not to mention maids and chefs and butlers. You’re not impressed, at all.

“So, I was thinking we’d go up the mountain in the morning?” Evie says, her eyes alight with some emotion that you don’t want to think too hard about.

“Mm, bad idea.” You reply, as you eye a group of men that you know come from a Merc Group, “There’s a bad storm rolling in, we go out in it, we don’t come back.”

“Oh, really?” She glances at the monitor and makes a face at the massive storm rushing in, “I should tell the others to prepare for the storm.” Evie mumbles, before she gets to her feet and hurries out of the room.

You’re alone for a moment, before one of the mercs brushes past you. “You should know,” He murmurs, his voice low, “The moment you find this treasure, we have orders to remove you from the equation.”

“Hmm.”

“You saved my life that day on Taris, this is me returning the favor.”

“Noted.” He glances at you, and then continues walking. The exchange took less than 5 seconds.

Luckily, you prepared for this exact scenario.

It’s not like this is the first time a client has betrayed you, after all.

You remain in the monitoring room for a bit longer, watching the storm build and grow in strength, and then, when you’re sure it’s late enough, you meander to your “room”.

You waste some time in your room, packing what few items you need to be able to survive in the storm, and then you cut out the lights, and you wait.

One hour passes. And then two.

And finally the lights dim in the hallway, and you know it’s time to go.

You don the severe weather gear that you bought yourself, grab your bag, the notebook, and you slip out the window.

As you figure, you have about five hours before anyone notices that you’re missing, and by the time they notice you’re gone, the storm will have erased any and all evidence of where you might have gone.

You walk quickly through the snow, wanting to get as far as you can before the storm hits. Though, you do take the time to veer towards a ravine just long enough to toss the notebook as well as a decoy pack down the ravine. With luck, anyone chasing you will think that you succumbed to the storm and nature.

The trick won’t work for long, but it will buy you a couple of hours, at the minimum.

That done, and with a storm moving in, you veer towards the mountain range. According to some of the notes you decoded, Count Dooku had pathways dug through all of the mountain ranges. You just need to find an entrance.

Luckily for you, Dooku wasn’t half as clever as he thought he was, and you were able to find an entrance in less than two hours. Unluckily, the passageways aren’t heated or lit.

You dig around in your pocket for your lamp sphere and light it with a touch of magic, ordering it to circle your head as you walk through the empty tunnels.

“Let’s see,” You say, aloud, to yourself, “If I was Dooku and needed to hide a war chest, where would I hide it?” You look around, peering down identical dark passages, and you sigh.

If you have to search every passage, you’ll be here for ages. There has to be an easier way.

You close your eyes for a moment, and focus your magic on your eyes, and then open them again.

Your natural magic isn’t the most useful for your chosen career path. You can see intentions, which is useful in foreign countries when it comes to bartering and when dealing with clients.

It is an innate magic, you don’t have to focus on it at all.

However, if you focus your magic on your eyes, and if you’re lucky, sometimes you can see traces of people’s intentions. Memories, written on the world around them.

It’s a desperate act. Dooku has been dead for almost fifty years. The odds of any of his intentions having been strong enough to leave an echo so far into the future is…unlikely, but you have to try.

As you fear, there’s no hint of intention in any of the passages.

You’re about to power down your magic, when you catch a glimpse of something higher than where you are. You focus your gaze on the dim glow and you frown.

The intention is…strong, but faint at the same time.

You puzzle through what you’re seeing. Strong implies that someone is actively in the passages with you. But the faintness implies…slumber, perhaps. Maybe someone lives in these passages.

Well, it’s better than continuing blind.

So you mentally mark the location in your head, and you start heading that way.

It takes time, though, to find the right path that will take you to the right level. The passageways were designed as a labyrinth, and you wonder if the passages aren’t complete, or if Dooku was just that paranoid near the end of his life.

You’ve never heard one way or the other.

But finally, after many dead ends, several looping paths, and one time when you thought you were going up but were actually going down, you reach a door.

You send a silent prayer to the patron god or treasure hunters, and then push the door open.

It creaks loudly, and another hard push causes it to fall inwards. “Whoops.” You whisper as dirt and dust swells around you. You wave the dust away from your face, and then step into the room properly.

It’s…empty.

Well, okay. Not really empty.

There, sitting in the middle of the room, is a massive crystal formation.

It looks man-made, to your eyes. Crystals don’t generally grow in such a deliberate way, at least not in your experience.

You move closer to the crystal and circle it, your eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

Now that you’re closer, it looks like there’s something inside it. You press your hand against the stone and try to peer through the cloudy material, but you might as well be trying to look through a solid wall.

You rip your gloves off, and press your bare hands against the planes of the crystal. Slowly you feel around the edges of each plane you can reach. And then…there, near the bottom, on the opposite side of where you started, you find a single sigil carved into the crystal.

Now, sigils and runes are basic magic.

It is, quite literally, magic 101.

But you’ve never been interested in modern runes or sigils, preferring to focus more on the more ancient versions that you normally encounter while on your treasure hunts.

That said, runes are runes, right?

They all get activated in the same way.

So you pull your hand back and summon a small amount of magic to your fingertips, and press your fingers against the sigil. “Please don’t be a bomb.”

For a moment, nothing happens, and then there’s a loud crack. And then another one. And a third.

And you’re forced to dive out of the way as the crystal shatters, sending large shards crumbling to the ground.

Then you see what was in the middle of the crystal, and your heart sinks.

It’s a man. Maybe about the same age as you, or a bit older, with a strict military cut and a five o’clock shadow. He’s wearing mandalorian armor, with the symbol of the medical corps on his shoulders.

You hurry over to him and kneel next to his head as he releases a low groan. You push your hood off your head, and tug your scarf down and goggles up as his eyes flutter open.

He looks like-

Your lips turn down in thought.

“Hey, can you hear me?” You ask, shoving your concerns to the side.

“Y-yes,” His voice is raspy and he blinks a couple of times, as if trying to clear his vision.

“What’s your name, soldier?” You ask, as you help him sit up.

“Kix…M’name is Kix.” He groans as you sit him up and he looks around the room, and then at you, “Your accent…you’re not Mandalorian.”

It’s not a question.

“Good ear,” You pull your bag off your back and dig through it, please let you have enough cold weather gear for him. “I’m Corellian, born and raised.” Kriff, you don’t.

Kix looks around, sharpness sliding through his gaze as he shakes off the sleep, “This isn’t Corellia.”

“That is correct.” You reply, before cursing, “How good is that at keeping you warm?” You ask with a nod towards his armor, and the helmet laying half forgotten in the shards of crystal.

“Good enough.” He lets out a pained groan as he gets to his feet, “Why?”

“Well, because it’s a wee bit chilly outside, on account of us being in Hoth.” You reply dryly and you stand and grab his helmet. You make sure that there aren’t any crystals inside the helmet and you offer it to him.

“...Hoth?”

“The one and the same.”

“What is a Corellian doing here?” Kix asks suspiciously.

“Well, I was hired to find Dooku’s war chest.” You glance at the crystal shards, and then at Kix, “And I found it, apparently. I’m not generally in the business of saving people, but I suppose I’ll make an exception.”

“...what?”

You glance to the side when you hear, what sounds like, magic explosions, “Times up, I’m afraid.” You look around, and then find another door, “This way, hopefully this door stood the test of time better than that one.” You pull your scarf and hood back on, “Put your helmet on, it’s freezing.”

Kix pulls his helmet on, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “What’s going on? What’s with the explosions?”

You glance at him, before you focus on the door, “Oh. My former employers. The Wilsi family from Serrano. I was informed that they were going to kill me once I found the War Chest, so I decided to cancel the contract.”

“You keep mentioning this war chest, what is it?” Kix asks as he walks over to you and helps you open the door wide enough that the pair of you are able to leave the room.

“Well, unless we find a vault full of riches, I think it’s you.”

Kix pauses, “What?”

You glance at him, “There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s been 50 years since the war between Serrano and Mandalore ended.” He freezes, and you quickly tug him out of the room and shut the door, “Listen to me, Kix, I know that this is a shock to you. I know that. But if we don’t start moving, we die here. Can you contain your totally understandable freak out until we’re somewhere safe?”

It’s kind of eerie, having that blank helmet staring at you, but slowly Kix nods, and you release a sigh of relief.

“Come on, this place is like a maze. Maybe we can use that to our advantage.” You turn to the left, and Kix falls into step behind you.

All you have to do is find a way out, and make sure that neither you, nor Kix, die. And then, somehow, get him back to Mandalore.

No pressure.

“Can we take a break, please?” Kix asks as he helps her close another door, leaving the pair of them in a slightly warmer room, “I can’t hear the explosions anymore.”

She frowns, though it’s only noticeable because she pulled her scarf down a little bit ago. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve apparently been in stasis for fifty years-” And isn’t that a kicker, how is he supposed to deal with that? How can he deal with that? His brothers are all going to be in their 70s- “I just need a break, that’s all.”

She nods, and tugs her hood down, before she sits on a rock, stretching her legs out in front of her. Kix watches her for a moment, before he sits on another rock, “So…who are you, anyway?”

She blinks, and then laughs, “Sorry, I never actually introduced myself, did I?” She introduces herself with a slightly crooked smile, “My mother would have my head for such rudeness.”

“And what is it that you do?”

“I’m an archeologist. Technically. That’s what my degree says at least.” Her name, something long and complicated, does not suit her at all. So Kix makes a mental note to just call her runi, and then moves along.

“That sounds like you don’t actually do archeology, runi.”

“Eh, I go to old places and look for old things to sell to people who would rather stay safe than do things.” She waves her hand.

“Ah.”

“What?”

“You’re a tomb robber.”

“I am not!”

“Oh, so you have permission to take these items then.” Kix asks.

“I…well..not exactly. But I haven’t exactly been denied permission either-”

Kix smirks, “Tomb robber.”

“Yeah…well..what do you do?”

“I’m a medic. A perfectly respectable career that isn’t illegal.” Kix replies.

She huffs, but doesn’t respond, so Kix takes it as a win.

“So, I assume you have a plan?” He asks, “To get us out of this mess.”

“I have a broad idea of what needs to happen, but as for the details…not so much.”

“...what?”

“Why plan? I mean, they never work out like they’re supposed to.” She shrugs, “But in the end, I do intend to get you back to Mandalore.

“And you’re going to do this without a plan?” Kix asks.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

He heaves out a sigh and then stands and pulls his helmet back on, “Maybe I should stick around with you. Stars know how you haven’t been killed yet.”

“Rude,” She scowls at him, but scrambles to her feet and pulls her cold weather gear on as well, “I-” She pauses and her head snaps to the side, “Motherkarking-...they’re planning on blowing up some of the tunnels. We need to go up and…over, I think.”

“Then let’s go. I’ll follow you.”

Kix watches as she leads him through the winding halls, pausing every now and then as though she’s following a path that only she can see. Having some kind of magic would make her survival a lot more understandable, all things considered.

He very nearly stumbles as a massive explosion makes the whole mountain shake, and Kix has to tackle runi through a door to keep them both from being crushed.

Turns out to have been a good thing, as the room they ended up in had a single set of stairs that lead somewhere else. It’s good enough for Kix, as he hoists runi to her feet and ushers her to the stairs and up.

And up.

Finally she throws open a door at the top of the stairs and they find themselves in a workshop of some kind.

“This must be where Dooku did his magical studies,” She notes as she peers at some of the books lining the walls.

“Wouldn’t there be a teleportation circle in here somewhere?” Kix asks, thinking back to the wizards tower back in Mandalore.

“Well, yeah. Probably. But I’m not wizard, I might be able to make it trigger it’s last destination, but-”

“This mountain is coming down, like it or not. Anywhere is better than here.”

“Ugh…fine! Help me find it.”

The pair search frantically around the room, before Kix lets out a shout of triumph. “Found it!” Runi hurries over to him and, with Kix’s help, clears the teleportation circle.

“Um…let’s see, it looks like it’s set to teleport somewhere…west?” She says as she scans the runes.

“West is good enough.” Kix shoves her into the circle as the building trembles, “Can you activate it?”

“Can I activate it.” She scoffs, “Of course I can activate it, but I have no control over where we land.”

“Better there than here,” Kix points out logically, and she makes a face, but clearly doesn’t disagree.

The runes start to glow, faintly at first, and then brighter.

Runi pulls her hands away from the seals, her eyes widening in panic, “Oh…oh bad…”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Um…” She turns panicked eyes on him, “The runes and sigils are reacting to the magic of the explosions…they…this is bad.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Kix asks, and runi opens her mouth to reply, but before she can say anything the teleportation circle activates.

It’s the most painful thing that Kix has ever felt in his life, and he’s almost grateful when he blacks out.

His last coherent thought is that he hopes runi is okay.

Kix wakes with a groan, this is beginning to become a habit for him. His everything is throbbing in pain, and it’s funny but his first thought was to question where his armor went.

“Easy there, vod. You’re okay.”

Kix squints at the man, one of his brothers, “-where?”

“You’re on the Resolute. We found you and the civvie passed out near a bombed out building. Seems like you threw yourself over her to save her.” Kix blinks a couple more times and finally he recognizes Vacc, one of the men he trained.

“...civvie?”

Vacc helps Kix sit up, and there’s a slightly jarring sensation when he realizes that he doesn’t recognize the medical bay. It’s…whiter and starker and has a lot less magical healing equipment than he’s used to. “Over there.” He motions to runi clad in some kind of medical attire, “She hasn’t said a word since she woke up.”

She’s curled up on the bed, her knees pulled up to her chin and her hands tangled in her hair. She lifts her gaze to meet his, and as soon as their gaze meets, her gaze darts to the portside window.

Kix follows her gaze, and his breath catches in his throat.

The Resolute was a sea-faring vessel.

But, for whatever reason, the Resolute seems to be in space.

No wonder she’s so freaked out. “Where…” Kix pauses to clear his throat, “Where are we going?”

“Coruscant.” Vacc claps his shoulder, “Get some rest, vod. We’ll be back at the barracks before we know it.”

And then his brother is gone, and Kix pins runi with a stare, “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” She sounds miserable, “The explosion must have mixed with the magic of the teleportation…I don’t know, Kix.” She winces and clamps her hands over her ears.

“Okay, okay. Runi, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“How can you stand it?”

“Stand what?”

“The screaming.”

“What screaming, there’s no screaming-” She wraps her hands around his wrists as soon as he’s close enough, and then he hears it, high pitched and constant, as though someone, somewhere, is screaming in unending pain.

When she releases him the screaming stops, but she just tightens her hands over her ears.

“It…it’s going to be okay, runi. We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Kix casts his gaze back to the window, just as a slightly mechanical voice echoes through the ship, “Preparing to jump into hyperspace in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”And the galaxy outside the window fades into streaks of white and blue as Kix folds his hands around runi’s hands, trying to help her block out the screaming.

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #magic and knights au #clone medic kix x reader #kix x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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theresattrpgforthat · 6 months

Note

do you have any suggestions for games which focus around politics and intrigue? I'm only really familiar with Court of Blades

THEME: Intrigue

Hello friend, so I’ve already got one post about Court Intrigue, as well as one about Political and Social Drama, so I definitely recommend checking those out! Here’s a few more for your consideration.

Human Ambassadors, by FUNONE Games.

Every player gets to play as an expert who has been selected to facilitate first contact with newly arrived aliens. You can count on some miscommunications.

They have requested that your group put on six events to educate them about the people of earth. You might puzzle over their feedback. In the end your group will have a big decision to make that will affect the future of humanity.

This is partially a diplomacy game, and partially just a really goofy time. You can only kind of understand what your new alien friends treasure and value, and you have to use that information to plan a number of events. At the end of each event, you roll to randomly determine the alien’s reaction, so this is definitely a game where you are trying to please an entity that has much more knowledge and power than you do.

Princely, by Michelle Jones.

The lord of the realm has announced that it is time for his eldest daughter to be married. He is holding a ball at his estate to determine the most eligible suitor to become her husband. Princes, knights, and noble sons from across the world will be in attendance, and you will be among them. However, you have a secret. You are not a man. And if the lord discovers the truth, you will be forced to leave the ball before you ever have a chance to confess your love.

Princely is a one-page RPG about courtly intrique, secret identities and queer love for any manageable number of players and one facilitator.

I don’t have a lot of information about this game, but my best guess is that it’s about navigating a royal ball and trying to pass off as a man in order to get close enough to the princess. Plenty of intrigue for sure!

Ruler’s Throne, by Gigglin’ Gryphon Games.

A Great Ruler has passed. An entire land is in mourning. And one of you is next in line for the title. If you can survive the night.

An ancient tradition calls for the greatest leaders in the lands to come together for one night of drunken celebration. Fierce generals. Heads of nations. Venerated royalty. You, the best, brightest, and richest in the lands will come, bringing the finest offerings for whomever shall next inherit the throne–and the finest deception to make certain it is you.

Using deceit, backstabbing, rumor, and a bevy of potent poisons, you must make it to the end of the night. Alive. Choose your friends carefully. And your enemies even more carefully. For only one shall claim…The Ruler’s Throne.

This is a game about poisoning your opponents, and your opponents are the other players around the table. Players use cards to contribute to a Chalice, using these cards as either actions, medicine, or poison. If you drink the Chalice and it’s full of poison, you die - but don’t worry, there’s plenty of mischief for ghosts to get up to, and you could possibly even come back to life! The last person living is the winner.

Interregnum, by vortiwife.

Interregnum is a playing card-based tabletop game of ambition and ruin set against a backdrop of backstabbing and corporate intrigue.

As the Inheritors to a vast Empire, the players must navigate a world of cutthroat politics, forge temporary alliances with their power-hungry rivals, and attempt to destroy those same rivals before they get the idea first.

Sell your soul in a doomed bid for power. Shake hands with your rivals while plotting their demise.

Interregnum involves a deck of playing cards, used as blackjack hands to determine which of your characters takes the least amount of ruin during a round of political maneuvering. An inheritor who collects too much ruin must either leave the table or make a deal with the devil, aligning with whatever Threat is facing the group as a whole in order to save their own skin.

This is a game of corruption, backstabbing, and ultimately downfall. If you want a game about scheming and karma coming to give you what you deserve in the end, this might be the game for you.

Gilded City Treaties, by Thomas.

A two-to-three player roleplaying game where you are diplomats trying to negotiate in your favour with the representative of Jasper Oro, the man who controls the Gilded City.

Jasper Oro is a powerful, powerful man, and you need his favor in order to write a treaty that benefits you and your people. If you play with two players, you can either play as Jasper and one diplomat, or both can play as diplomats, while Jasper’s responses are determined through dice rolls. If yo play as three players, one person is Jasper, and the other two are the entreating diplomats.

There’s not a lot of rules here - I’m expecting this game to be a light framework for extensive roleplay, and over in a single session.

Secrets and Sabotage, by SassWrites.

Want a murder mystery evening? Or a bitchy prom night with mean girls? How about a diplomatic affair with spies and assassins, or a fey court full of intrigue?

Play all these games and more with this system of secrets and clues.

This is a game or game module, so you could play it solo, or you could use it to replicate a battle of wit and reputation in another game of your choice. This game is also setting-agnostic, so you could have it take place in a high school, a space barony, or a noble castle. Over the course of the game, your characters will let slip their secrets, but attempt to reveal all of their rival’s secrets before their own dirty laundry comes to light. The goal is to culminate in a final round where all of the characters are making loud accusations, pointing fingers, and causing general chaos. I’d love to see what kind of fallout might ensue in the session following this game!

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #politics #intrigue

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sirthisisa-wendys · 2 years

Note

Sis, I need Mistuya x reader x Draken smut PLEASE! On my knees crying

the dragon bros need some loving

Draca: Mitsuya Takashi x Fem!Reader x Ken Ryuguji

wc: 741

tw: smut, fantasy AU

masterlist

Laughter booms in the tavern as you post up near the knights in the back, spreading mugs of mead into the circle.

"I've never seen a basilisk that big," a blonde man chuckles, tipping the mug back and listening to his friends continue the story. A purple-haired knight picks up the tale, giving props to each member at the table for their part in the battle.

"Another round?" you wonder, sweeping by and filling the empty mugs. "It's on the house."

"Here, here," the blonde laughs, raising his cup. "A toast to the lovely barmaid!" Everyone echoes the cheer, and you giggle. It's not long before a few take off, but you keep the knights full with mead as the night goes on.

Once the tavern is close to closing, you notice only two are left. There's a purple-haired one and the same blonde who cheered you earlier, both seeming unphased and stone-cold sober.

"Are y'all doing alright?" you wonder as you pass by, smiling at the handsome men.

"I actually have a bet with my friend here," the blonde begins, pointing at the purple-haired one. "Mitsuya thinks you've been at this business for a while, so you've seen many knights pass through here. Were you here when the Black Dragons were the knights of the land?"

"That was before my time," you chuckle, leaning over to grab their empty cups. "I learned the business - right before the group ended their first generation - from my father about how to run a tavern when I was just eight."

"So you're not too old," Mitsuya jokes, and the blonde swats at him. "What, Draken?"

"Be a gentleman!"

"I'm not too old," you smile, wagging your brows. "I've seen a few things here and there."

"Have you ever had someone try to flirt with you as you're working?" Draken wonders.

"Sure," you shrug. "I have two knights trying to flirt with me right now." Mitsuya and Draken blush, but one tries to hide it while the other smirks. "I'm gonna shut this place down for the evening, but you two can stay for a nightcap if you want." You wink and sashay away, expecting them to scurry out of the tavern and never reappear. But when they remain long after you've closed, you know they want something you've got to offer.

You find yourself stuck between them, making out with Draken as Mitsuya fucks you from behind, his hands holding your hips with care. Draken's fisting his cock, stroking it leisurely while you suck on his bottom lip.

"Bend over," Draken urges you, his dark eyes watching as you bow at the waist and hold onto his hips. "Pout for me." You obey, and he taps his dickhead against your lips, humming while staring at you. "So pretty..."

You open your mouth and let him slide his length over your tongue, tasting the salty precum with pride. Draken slowly thrusts into your mouth, holding your head and angling his hips back and forth. "Ah, fuck." Draken leans his head back and groans just as Mitsuya deepens his strokes. You bob back and forth on Draken's girthy cock, saliva trailing from your lips as you gag.

Mitsuya speeds up, and you moan around the cock in your mouth, making Draken hiss and buck his hips. You reach a hand down to play with your clit, the tips brushing against Mitsuya's balls while he fucks you.

"Such a sweet girl..." Mitsuya mumbles, reaching up to tweak your nipples. "Haven't felt the warmth of a woman in so long, have we, Ken?"

Draken grunts in agreement, pulling out his cock and jerking it in front of your face. It isn't long before he cums in your open mouth, each ribbon of cum coating your tongue. You swallow, then show Draken your empty mouth, to which he hums and pats your cheek lovingly.

Mitsuya doesn't take too much time cumming on your ass, pulling out just in time to get every drop right where he wants it.

"We'll come back at the end of every campaign," he promises, huffing softly. "You're truly skilled at being a good host."

"If anyone asks, this place has the best hospitality," Draken grins. "The kind we like."

"Come back anytime," you urge the two of them, standing up and wiping your ass off with a bar towel. "I'd be happy to have you here to keep me company."

taglist: @bertholdts--butt

#ken ryuguji smut #mitsuya takashi smut #mitsuya takashi x reader #takashi mitsuya #ken ryuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers

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juniperss · 2 months

Note

Band of brothers medieval au ,that's just a thought...

anon, your mind….lets take this a step further if you don’t mind me doing so:

knights of the round table au. Now I’ll be honest and admit that my knowledge on King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table is entirely sourced from BBC’s Merlin so you’ll have to bear with me BUTTTTTTTTTT

“We would fight a thousand armies with our bare hands for you. We are never alone. We stand together." -Elyan to Arthur

In this AU I clearly picture Richard as Arthur. Just as in Band of Brothers, we see how quickly Easy Company (led by Lipton and so on) admit they would rather be transferred (or even killed) than to have to serve under Sobel. It’s clear from the beginning who the loyalty of the Company belongs to and that is Winters.

Now there aren't enough Knights of the Round Table to have each member of Easy Company, so I'm going to divide Easy into the Archetypes of each Knight that they most reflect in either all or most aspects (in my opinion!) -Sir Gwaine Archetype: "I think we have no chance. But I wouldn't miss it for the world." Bold, seeing the best in others, flirtatious, confident, fiercely loyal, humorous, throw hands first and ask questions later, and believed that people should be defined by what they did rather than who they were [Guarnere, Toye, Speirs, Talbert] - Sir Lancelot Archetype: "It is not just his deeds that we'll never forget. It is his courage. It is his compassion. His unselfish heart." Kindhearted, compassionate, courageous, humble, loyal and self sacrificing. [Lipton, Roe, Malarkey] -The Sir Elyan Archetype: "He's [Elyan] just one of those types of people, never settles down, never thinks about the future. Just follows his heart wherever it takes him." Affectionate, adventurous, loyal, brave, kind to others, cunning and quick on their feet, giving. [Muck, Skip, Nixon, Liebgott, Luz] -The Sir Leon (THATS MY MAN!) Archetype: "I have fought alongside you [Arthur] so many times, there is no one else I would rather die for." Steadfast, loyal, sensible, knew the difference between courage and foolishness, outspoken, humorous, good natured, self sacrificing for the greater good [Martin, Buck, also Lipton] -The Sir Percival Archetype: "Your enemies are my enemies" Quiet, man of few words, skilled, brave, gentle and softhearted, decisive, mischievous in the right company. [Shifty, Bull, Babe, Skinny]

Prince Richard presents his plan to stop an evil that has grown so powerful and destructive that he isn't sure he can actually succeed but he vows that he will try anyway. He doesn't ask his friends for help, but one by one they pledge their aid to him.

The Knights that Richard chooses aren’t all nobility nor are they approved by the King. They are simply men who have shown unwavering loyalty and love to him, they are men he trusts. And they are there when he has no one else, and they commit themselves to his cause knowing full well that they might not survive. Their numbers aren't many (only 5 Knights with any skill in battle and 3 honorary members) but they are steadfast and skilled.

After Richard establishes the Knights of the Round table, he would later abolish The First Code of Camelot that states that only men of noble blood can be Knights. After all, blood does not make the man. It's his actions and loyalty that do.

I do absolutely adore the idea of the Knights (Easy) wearing red cloaks and armor like the Knights do in Merlin. It's so dramatic and I think it should be allowed *bangs gavel*

Something something the Knights were so deeply loyal to one another that it bordered on something more than platonic something something the dedication to one another that after the death of their leader there was too much grief to continue on something something.....

While the Knights are meant to be a symbol of the realm and its power, I also see them as representative of the common people, especially in the BBC Merlin version after the Round Table is established. These are men who have come from varied backgrounds and experiences and there's not a way that they wouldn't be seen as what could be for the future.

watch this video and tell me i'm wrong (pls don't tell me i'm wrong)

#asks #band of brothers #band of brothers au #my writings

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starsaroundmyscarsblog · 1 year

Text

Happier x Happier

Summary: The Aftermath of 'Right Where You Left Me'

Focus: Moon Knight x reader. Y/N's POV is set 6 months before Marc's.

Warnings: nothing... except soul-destroying angst

Y/N's POV:

We broke up a month ago

Your friends are mine, you know, I know

You've moved on, found someone new

One more girl who brings out the better in you

It had been a few years since you and Marc had broken up, which was a long time to be hung up over an ex, but hey, he was Marc. You were planning to get married to him. You saw a whole future with him.

Layla, his new girlfriend, wasn't had to track down on social media. She didn't post often, but her posts were so Instagram aesthetic you wanted to scream. Your Instagram was nothing like hers, stupid pics funny faces and filters. Layla's Instagram was hands intertwined, books, coffee, laying on Marc's chest. How was her Instagram? Yours was so... messy and unorganised, your posts weren't even in the right reels. And Narc seemed so tender with her, more so than he was with you.

And I thought my heart was detached

From all the sunlight of our past

But she's so sweet, she's so pretty

Does she mean you forgot about me?

Gosh, you wanted to hate her. And you did. How could you not? She was perfect, beautiful, with lovely hair, kind and funny and knowledgeable? How could Marc not fall in love with her? How could anyone not fall in love with her?

Then you saw it. They're wedding pictures. So soon after, you'd broken up, and they seemed so in love. Marc was holding her, and it was like you could feel his rough but gentle hands on your waist. Those photos made you wanna hurl. You slammed your phone on the table. Had he forgotten about you already? You guys had been together for years before he talked about marriage. Seemed like Layla was his ride or die.

You needed to get out of London, you needed to get out of this flat, it was suffocating you.

Marc's POV:

Walking down 29th and Park

I saw you in another's arms

Only a month we've been apart

You look happier

Marc was on a mission in New York. Appointed. Word of a few...powerful weapons on the street. He was parked outside the road of 29th and Park, when he saw you. He sat right up, blinking, making it sure it wasn't real. But it was. You seemed older but in a good way, and you had changed your hair. It was longer now, and ombre. You looked really good. Happier.

He frowned, spotting someone next to you. The man was tall, in dark clothing and a leather jacket, with short hair, and a metal arm, one which he wrapped you, then pulled you in tight. You smiled, laughing and wrapped yours round his waist.

For some reason, Marc got up and followed you. He didn't know why. He was neglecting the mission. You and him were over a long time ago. He was married now. He glances at his wedding ring. Things with Layla were better, but still, it was like his heart was controlling him and not his head.

Saw you walk inside a bar

He said somethin' to make you laugh

I saw that both your smiles were twice as wide as ours

Yeah, you look happier, you do

They sat down inside a bar in a diner. It was quaint and friendly. Bucky's arm was still around you, and without knowing, Marc's fist clenched along with his jaw. When Bucky whispered something in your ear and you laughed, he noticed that your smile than when he made you laugh.

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you

But ain't nobody love you like I do

Promise that I will not take it personal, baby

If you're movin' on with someone new

Marc knew that he hurt you in a way that no one should be hurt. You deserved better, and that's why you had to leave, but a part of him still clung to you... still loved your more than anything, the part of him that still wanted you back, that wouldn't let Steven and Jake touch the memories of you.

Y/N's POV:

Oh, I hope you're happy

But not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go

So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You hoped Marc was happy as a married man. But you knew you didn't want the marriage to last. You wanted it to end horribly, so he would realise what a mistake he made and come back to you. You knew it was wrong of you to hold such resentment such bitterness, but you didn't care. You knew even though you were going to a new country, a new city, New York, escaping your past London Life, you knew you wouldn't be able to let him go.

Marc's POV:

Cause baby you look happier, you do

My friends told me one day I'll feel it too

And until then I'll smile to hide the truth

But I know I was happier with you

Marc watched you both through the window. The way Bucky touched you, the way Bucky held you. He wanted that, that refuge from the trauma of his past, his friend had told him after you, he would feel happier again. But now he knew that a was lie, and he smiled through the lie, as he watched you with Bucky, knowing he was happier with you.

Y/N's POV:

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?

An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean

Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?

It was all you could think about on the plane. What did Marc call her? Beautiful, babe, honey. Did he mean it when he promised her eternal love? He hadn't before. But you remembered when he said it to you. You thought that nothing could separate you then. That if you were lost, he'd search the whole world to find you.

And now I'm pickin' her apart

Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart

But she's beautiful, she looks kind

She probably gives you butterflies

You couldn't help it. You decomposed Layla. Focused on her negativity. She wasn't good for Marc. She seemed selfish and controlling, and she didn't know who he rully was, like you. You were saying these like it would make Marc miss you. Come back to you.

Marc's POV:

Sat in the corner of the room

Everything's reminding me of you

Nursing an empty bottle

And telling myself you're happier, aren't you?

(Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

Marc went back to his hotel room, and even though he hadn't drank in a long time (he promised Layla he wouldn't) he sat there, pouring the bottle down his throat, thinking about you. Flashes of a past life. Memories of a stolen place.

He remembered your smile, which used to make him go weak in the knees, and that laugh. Divine. He thought about his relationship with Layla, wondering if it had been worth it. His conscious clawed at him, even though he knew it wasn't. His relationship had gotten stronger a little bit, but it wasn't the same spark when they first met. It was more like embers that were dying.

Oh, ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you (hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

But ain't nobody need you like I do (hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

I know that there's others that deserve you (hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

But my darlin', I am still in love with you

He knew that you were finally happy, and he didn't wanna fuck that up. But he wanted you so badly, he wanted the before. He would make it work, fix it so him leaving never happened. So you could fall in love with him again.

Y/N's POV

I hope you're happy

But not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go

So find someone great but don't find no one better

You wanted Marc and Layla to be happy. Part of you the least. But not the same way you and him were happy. You knew they were probably going to be more happy. Kids, house with a white picket fence, perfect American dream.

Marc's POV:

But I guess you look happier, you do

My friends told me one day I'll feel it too

I could try to smile to hide the truth

But I know I was happier with you

He went and found you again. Saw you and Bucky together through a window in your apartment, watching a movie curled up together. Jealously tugged on his heart. He wanted you, you and touch back.

Y/N'S POV:

I hope you're happy

I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

Ooh-ooh

How we're you supposed to start a new life here when he obviously controlled yours? How was you supposed to go on, mend he pieces of a broken life? Find yourself again when all you could think about was wanting Marc to think about you when he touched Layla? How you were scheming ways to get Marc back in your head, like starrting up a relationship with him on the side,

And then suddenly, you were disgusted at yourself. That you would go that far. Bit you weren't surprised

Marc's POV:

Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah

All he could do was watch, even as you kissed, and he swore he felt the ghost of your lips while you kissed Bucky, full of passion, full of love.

Y/N's POV:

I hope you're happy

Just not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, can't let you go

So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You loved Marc. You always would. It was your curse and your blessing. But New York was fresh starts. Healing. You knew that you'd probably never let him go or want him to be happier, but maybe you could.

Marc's POV:

Cause baby, you look happier, you do

I knew one day you'd fall for someone new

But if he breaks your heart like lovers do

Just know that I'll be waitin' here for you

Marc knew that'd you fall in love eventually, but he didn't know why it hurt him so bad when he left you. It was hurting him so bad that you had slipped through his fingers without him realising what exactly he was letting go. Who he was letting go of. His soul mate.

He smiled softly through the pain, watching you and Bucky through the window. Even though there were no clouds around, he felt a raindrop slip onto his cheek and roll down his face.

He'd always be there for you. He willed for you to know that. No matter what, he happened. He'd be here. Waiting.

#jake lockley #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #moon boys #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #marvel #moon knight fic #Spotify

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smolvenger · 1 year

Text

Arise Fair Sun (Henry V x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Word Count: 3K

Fandom: The Hollow Crown

Summary: One night, Henry appears under your balcony to confess his feelings to you.

Warnings: None, just a lot of fluff! I guess brief mentions of sex.

A/N: This was inspired by @theartofimagining13's small post that can be found here! A lot of it was taken from the Balcony Scene from Romeo and Juliet (and no tragic ending in my fic, hooray!), bc I'm a basic bitch who genuinely loves that play, do not @ me. Enjoy!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner@littlespaceyelf@superficialdomina @muddyorbsblr

“Y/N, a marriage to the Earl of Warwick shall be a wonderful match and you must consider it!” your father said at dinnertime.

You felt as if the roast chicken you had just eaten was curdling in your stomach. Though it was a warm summer night, you became very cold. You saw stars in the fields of your vision from the shock. The words were thunder to your ears- loud and shocking and bursting from nowhere.

You did meet the Earl of Warwick a few times. He was a handsome man, though he was older. Not elderly, but close to your father’s age to where they were friends. Often, they attended events and court with the king himself there. Just yesterday, he was there with you at a ball, hosted by the king himself. He had long since been widowed. Now it seemed he was open for a replacement.

Though you did dance with the handsome young king, Henry the Fifth. His eyes were piercing but his face had a gentle smile on you. You were sure he was not betrothed to any princess. At least not yet. The times you spoke with him and attended events with him, he did speak to you. And he was so…so…

No, it was impossible.

“Father…am I…am I betrothed to the earl?” you asked, still dazed at it.

To think, you were already set for a marriage without your knowledge! Yes, you knew it would happen eventually. You never thought it would happen now! Your fingers curled into the table’s wood as if it could support you.

“No, I will tell you, you are not. At least, not yet! He is only interested in courtship first…then we can consider a betrothal,” your father replied. He wiped off the sauce of the meal from his mouth.

Your mother turned to you.

“But the earl seeks you as his lady love. And you shall consider him, shall you?” your mother encouraged.

You blinked rapidly.

“I…I will consider it,” you answered.

“Then, we will invite him to dinner and if this continues further, a marriage for you will finally be settled. Isn’t’ that wonderful?” your father asked with a smile.

You nodded politely, despite the racing of your heart. You reached for your goblet of wine and took a sip, resisting the urge to gulp it down to calm your shock.

Not that he wouldn’t be a good husband to any wife. But…in the depth of your heart, you wanted to marry out of love. Like with….with….

No, that was impossible. Don’t dwell on him, you urged yourself.

This was it. Done and done-at this rate, you would have to start signing your letters as Lady Warwick.

That night, you were troubled. You found it hard to relax to sleep. The stifling heat on the blankets on a summer evening didn’t help. You knew marriage was never for love, but for duty and diplomacy. Love was only for knights who pined for already married women. And even that was never to be except for all the yearning and sighing. And you didn’t think of yourself as worthy of a knight’s adoration either.

You put on a white shift and a pink robe over should a servant run nearby. You went out of your room to go out to the balcony outside. It was a lovely night. The moon was up in the sky, full and round and white. Stars were sprinkled as light as sugar dust over the ebony sky of midnight. It ran over the back of the house where you could peek over the wall that surrounded the house. Right below was the garden where trees grew so tall their leaves could kiss your fingertips. And even though you could only smell the garden and never touch it, vines and flowers blossoming from them bedecked the balcony wall. Moonlight glowed over it all, giving it a shine making it seem more ethereal.

You leaned onto the balcony railing, putting a hand against your cheek. You let out a deep sigh, just enjoying it and the sounds of the crickets of this summer night. It was cooler now with a breeze that made you shiver a little. It was as if the world sighed down with you. Crickets and owls sang their music.

Then you heard the distant whinny of a horse. Your head turned, jumping from its suddenness. Did one break from the stable? You walked up the walkway to where you could peek over the wall and saw that there was a white horse on the other side. A horse you did not recognize!

Zounds-a burglar!?

You ran down to where you saw the garden. You noticed a figure in the dark with a dark cloak running forward. Your heart raced with panic. As you lowered your jaw to let out a scream and alert someone, the hood lowered.

“Don’t be afraid, my lady!” cried a familiar voice.

Out came a head full of auburn curls and a handsome, ivory face with a goatee. And you fought the urge to let out another yelp. Of all the men on God’s creation who could be down there-fie! It was the king of England, Henry! The panic ran its cold lightning down your body.

“Your grace!” you said out of surprise, dipping into a bow out of habit.

You returned up. How beautiful his curls and skin shone against the moonlight. There was a faint glow caught in his high cheekbones. He wore a dark cloak and gloves over his red doublet, its color bleeding out between the folds of the cloak.

He placed his hands out in peace and walked forward to where you stood over. The most powerful man on earth but here he seemed so little. He looked up at you like you were a giant. Like you could squash him between your thumb and forefinger.

“What brings your majesty here and why? Without your guards? No one to protect you?” you asked.

“I do not need nor want them here. Here, my dear lady… I come here under the cloak of night-she hides and protects me.”

You began to clutch the railing of the balcony, leaning over.

“How did you get in here?” you asked.

He let out a smile that made your insides wriggle in excitement.

“I climbed over the walls-I was always quite good at climbing,” Henry said.

Peeking over, you noticed how tall they were. You forgot he was young and spry, even if he was royalty. He had the energy and strength to get over a tall wall. You turned down to look at him.

“You…didn’t answer my first question. Why are you here?” you asked.

He folded his gloved hands, looking up. His brows furrowed and his shoulders began to raise.

“I spoke with your father today-and he was making a boast that concerned me…are you betrothed?” he asked.

You felt your eyes go wide. You shook your head.

“No…no I am not. The earl of Warwick is interested in me. But no, there’s no betrothal. Not yet,” you told him.

Henry let out a deep breath and loosened his shoulders.

“I am relieved…” he commented.

“What…what do you mean, Henry?” you asked, swallowing.

You saw him smile as you said his name.

“The night brought me here…and Love.”

The air stilled around you, and the earth stopped as he spoke. His own jaw trembled and though his voice was soft, you heard him clearly. Reality surpassing your dreams.

“Love gave me wings and urged me forward…and here, in this garden tonight, I am not a king who can only speak in declarations and laws and propriety. Here, there are no eyes watching us. I can speak to you honestly. I can speak to you as a man. As a man who loves you.”

You were almost dizzy. Processing it. You held onto the railing to keep your legs from knocking.

“You…you love me?” you repeated.

“Y/N…I…I wanted to give you a speech. Recite poetry and verses. But your eyes make me turn red. The sight of you and I am speechless. I cannot say a word from the fullness and longing of my heart. So I speak plain- I love you, Y/N. And that I will not be ashamed to say aloud. Not anymore.”

You then eyed the tree right next to where you stood.

“Can you climb up here…can you talk to me there…”

He then moved to the wall before yours. Easily, he pulled himself up the trees. With the grace of a dancer, he moved up and through until he went to the branch right before where you stood. He caught his breath from the exertion, holding onto the branch to support him.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“I have never felt better as I did.”

“Then come forward, Henry-I don’t want you to fall!” you cried.

He walked down the branch, making himself steady. You reached out a hand-touching his leather gloves, and helped him on. Though you paused when you realized- you were in the intimate position of an embrace. He didn’t let go. You didn’t want him to.

“Well-this is better, my lady…” he remarked, with a naughty twinkle in his eye.

“At this point in the poems, many men call their ladies the moon….a few call their women the sun…That should give you a hint of what to say…” you teased.

Henry glanced up at the sky, he then returned to you with a smile.

“Then…then you are the stars, Y/N. The light of this night…perhaps this does make you the sun. The sun itself is a star and all go about come alive when they rise. So should the world come to life when I see you. There were times I wished…I wished I was a mere insect in this house, Y/N.”

“An insect?” you repeated with a small laugh.

You saw Henry turn pink and both of you dipped your heads into laughter again, then he continued.

“I envy each bug. Each small crook and mouse that can go in. That can lay eyes to you, hear you speak and laugh and sing and whisper. I would trade my crown to be them. For they can look at you and hear you all the time, but Harry of England cannot.”

You never thought your smile would grow as big as it currently did. He removed his gloves and set them on the railing. Then you took your hands in each other. A touch of bare skin upon bare skin. He twined your fingers between yours. He held your hand so smoothly, a great treasure. Worth more than anything he materially possessed.

“I don’t know who would get more in trouble if my father arrived. If it would be you at the sight of a man so near me, or if he would get in trouble and be exiled by the king of England!”

Smiling and bursting into laughter-how easily you could speak to and laugh with this man. The pure joy that tingled inside you when he was near!

“I won’t exile him…at least, not too long,” he said with a wink that made you flutter in your insides.

“I love you. No other embellishments- I love you. It is like you haunt me, Y/N. There were times I’ve wondered if I’ve only dreamed about you. Then I feel the itch of my clothes or the scratch in my throat and I could cry with bliss. For it means you are real.”

You began to tear up with happiness.

“I had to tell you how I felt. Before you were sold off forever. Before you followed your father’s wishes.”

“Couldn’t you command him?” you questioned.

“When I was not sure if you liked me?! And have you hate me all for forcing your hand? I couldn’t! I had to be sure how you felt about me! And I wanted you to…to like me. Like me a little. I had to tell you my feelings before we had to say nothing for all eternity. Before a loveless marriage was forced on me too. I wanted it to be genuine- nothing of crowns and laws and power. Only my own heart beating fast when I see you smile at me.I…”

He paused. His mouth dropping to a gentle frown.

“Y/N…How do you feel about me?” he asked.

You felt yourself warm up.

“For someone who insists he is plain of speech…you are pretty with your words…and I like them, Henry- I do. And I like you. And I…I love you too…”

Giving in, you embraced him. He cupped your cheek and kissed you. Fire engulfed you as you leaned in. You felt his hot breath from his nose against your face. You could have stayed there forever in his arms. You reached up a hand to run through his hair as you kissed again. He pressed further and your body was shot. You were so drunk on love, on his touch.

Fie, the great trouble that would land you! Both of you-more you than him! And in fact…

You pulled from the kiss.

“Henry…you come here with honorable intentions-that of marriage, do you?” you asked.

He shook his curly head.

“My lady, no- I come here with no thoughts of anything vile but only with the sweetest, purest sentiments. I swear on myself!” he promised.

“Oh, good! I’ve heard of men saying things to women to seduce them…I’m glad.”

You went up to cup his cheek. He leaned into it, kissing the palm of your hand. His eyes as bright and shining to rival the moon. Then he took both his hands to touch yours. You sat on the railing, and he knelt down to talk to you, his voice and eyes earnest.

“Y/N, I am relieved you love me as I love you. As you are a bright gem to me, a sweet pet. But I come here not because I wish to possess you- only to stay by your side. I was crowned king of a nation but here, I am only your humble servant!”

“Then…could you kiss me again?” you asked.

“Yes.”

He wrapped his arms around you. He began to repeat your name as he laid a kiss on each of your cheeks, then your neck and lips as you melted into laughter from his arms. He kept murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as he held you, nuzzling you close.

“The sweetest, dearest name…loveliest, most precious of women….”

Both of you let go. How warm he felt compared to the chill of the night.

“Then…then you will speak to my father. Tell him you are interested in me. Insist on yourself as a suitor with intentions on marriage,” you urged him.

“Yes! Yes I shall!” he agreed, nodding.

There were footsteps from inside. The air stopped in your lungs and both of you fled to a shadow. But seeing that no one approached, you let out a sigh of relief.

“To think…we have to go…there might be some to hear you…” you mused sadly.

“I can’t remember how much delight I’ve had in this hour since my tavern days…to think we could be caught-the thrill of it!”

“Henry…we should exchange tokens of love.”

Both of you plucked the flowers growing on one side against the balcony. He gave you one. You gave him one. He tucked his own flower, a large, bright pink blossom, into his doublet. He put on his gloves in the strands of his belt for security.

“Here….symbols of us. To remember each other…” you said.

He said, tilting your chin up to his. You touched his arm gently and smiled.

“Henry, when you talk to father-come here. You could see me tomorrow…I’ll put my ears against the door when you talk to Father! I doubt he could refuse the king of England as a son in law and his daughter a…a…”

The word, in your disbelief, went to a mere whisper of your voice. The idea gripping you.

“a…a queen.”

“And what a queen you shall make!”

He took his hands on you and lifted you up in an embrace to where your feet didn’t touch the ground. He twirled you around. You let out a small shriek in spite of yourself, despite the risk from the surprise.

He kissed you again on the lips. The man was insatiable for you, but you would not complain about it.

“I’ve never been…been this happy…I am not sure if I want to leave…”

“Well then…you must…you don’t want my parents to suspect anything. And servants like to talk- wouldn’t you provide some interesting gossip for them,” you sighed.

“I could brave them all if I had to. But if I must…”

He held your hand as he began to climb out to the tree branch. Your own arm reached out, holding his. Just enough so that you still felt secure on your balcony.

“I will see you on the morrow, when the sun rises and all of dawn and day shall behold your face where it will stand by mine soon for all eternity…” Henry said.

“And I cannot wait until then…” you replied.

You held onto him until only the bits of your fingers touched. To memorize his skin. His feel. He then climbed down the tree. then you let go. Your own hand holding onto air. Feeling the ghost of his touch as he had to use both of his hands to climb down. Then you released it as well. Watching him vanish.

You blew him a kiss and he caught it, putting it to his lips. He bounded across the gardens. Then he crawled up and over the wall-and his cape did seem like a birds wings in the night. You ran over to the other side of the balcony wall to watch the last of him. You saw him on his white horse, like a maiden’s sweet dream. With a last smile, a smile of promise, he kicked his heels against his horse and rode off into the night until the whiteness of the steed was a mere speck.

You missed him already. But you told yourself, it wouldn’t be long now. Just a few more hours. And you would be reunited. Bound to never part forever.

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