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zepskies · 15 days

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Wake Me Up - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: The moment we've all been waiting for...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! PTSD, medical trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, smut and feels (and "herb" smoking lol).

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 4: “The Power in You”

In the morning, you woke before the man sleeping beside you. The longer you stared at his peaceful face, the more you wanted to remember why your heart ached just looking at him. And after last night, you couldn’t doubt him anymore.

Ben cared about you. Your heart could even hope to believe that he loved you, even if that hope surprised you.

He made you feel comfortable and warm. He made you feel safe.

So with these thoughts on your mind, you carefully slipped out of bed and got freshened up for the day. You tried to be as quiet as possible, and when you padded out into the living room on bare feet, you found the rest of the apartment empty.

Marie must’ve gone to work already, you realized, as it was nearly 10:00 a.m. Instead of going into the kitchen for your usual ritual of coffee and rummaging for breakfast, you found yourself all too curious about the man still snoring down the hall.

You decided to venture into the office you apparently shared with him. There was a big crate of vinyl records, a few of which featured Ben on them with various artists of the 70s and 80s. The cheesy album covers made you smile in amusement.

You moved on to the books on the shelves. Most of these seemed to be from your collection, as you recognized your favorites. Your fingers brushed over their dusty spines.

The pads of your fingers paused over something binder-like, not book-like. You pulled it out and realized it was a photo album. So, bringing it over to Ben’s large leather chair, you sat down and flipped it open.

The first pictures were in black and white. You didn’t recognize the young woman in one of them. Not until you saw her again next to a tall, stoic looking man, who had Ben’s facial structure and broad frame. You saw the young and cocky versions of Ben distilled in sepia tones, and it made a smirk pull at your lips.

The further you flipped through the album, the more your attention got sucked in. There was an old-school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at Backgammon.

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile.

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around you. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

You gasped and held a hand to your temple, flinching at the sudden sensation. You’d taken your medication. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But your vision altered. In your mind’s eye, you saw a dark club where people were dancing to Latin pop. You were clothed in black leather and flashing lights, and someone was spinning you across the dance floor.

As the scenes began to change in flashes, the pain in your head intensified. You whimpered and gripped your head with both hands. The photo album slid off your lap and to the floor.

You remembered being tied to a chair, staring up at Ben’s stoic face. And there were so many other faces you knew that you knew: Hughie and Annie, M.M., Butcher, Kimiko, Frenchie, Frank, Loco, Saul, your mother and sister, Grace, Stan Edgar, your father, Jon…

And Ben. He was standing over you, with worried eyes. You were pinned to the ground this time—a sharp pain in your shoulder.

“Stay awake.” It was both an order and a plea as the walls of a tower fell around you.

But it mixed with flashes of a knife carving across your flesh. Of demands and questions over and over as you resisted.

No, no, no, no…

You didn’t realize that you’d screamed loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You didn’t hear the thundering footsteps that brought Ben tearing into the office. He took one wide-eyed look at you, slumped and huddling on the floor, rocking yourself, holding your head with both hands, and he got down to one knee in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders.

You couldn’t speak. And to Ben, it didn’t seem like you were even hearing him as tears slipped down your face.

“Hey!” he barked, startling you with a flinch, but you blinked faster and looked up at him. Part of him felt a measure of relief at that small victory.

“Tell me what's happening,” he said, with deeply furrowed brows.

He held your face in his hands, and he could feel you shaking under his grasp. You uttered an agonized sound and grabbed onto his wrists, shutting your eyes tight.

“It hurts!” you managed to grit out. “Hurts bad this time.”

For the second time in his long life, Ben felt helpless. That feeling clawed through his stomach and up into his throat. It was like he was watching you fall apart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

…No. His jaw locked as he ground his teeth. No. He wasn’t going to let you break.

“Wait here,” he said. He didn't want to move you, in case that made it worse.

He left you briefly just to grab his cell phone, but he was calling Dr. Jeong on his way back to you. There he kneeled on the ground and pulled you close while he waited for the damn doctor to answer. You clung to his shirt, pressed your face into his chest and wept hot tears.

Ben dropped the phone when you cringed, with a pained cry. He called your name and tried to pry you off him just enough so that he could see your face.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he muttered, pressing a hand to your cheek. “Hey! Look at me!”

There was a long moment where you couldn’t answer him.

Then, slowly, slowly…the pulsing behind your eyes and at the back of your head began to recede. Not all the way, but enough to blink your eyes open and release a breath. You were trembling, with your fingers wound tightly in Ben’s shirt. You were able to let go.

You blinked certain shadows out of the corners of your eyes while you caught your breath. When you next looked up at Ben, you saw that his face was tight with apprehension. It confused you.

“Ben?” you prompted. He took your hand, whether to steady you or himself, he’d never tell.

“What the fuck was that?” he said, his voice edged.

You blinked in shock for a moment as you caught your breath. Then, your lips twitched at a smile.

Ah, you recognized his polite way of asking if you were okay.

“Wow. That’s my caring boyfriend,” you said wryly.

Ben’s expression slackened. You became even more confused, and a little concerned, especially by the fact that you were sitting in his lap, but you both were on the ground.

“What?” you asked him. Why was he looking at you like that? What was happening here?

Ben quirked his head at you in wonder.

“How long have we lived here?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking you that? But he looked dead serious, like this was a test of some kind.

“Almost a year. What, is your memory fading already?” You joked weakly, despite the way your head was still aching, just much less intense than before.

You realized then that the photo album you made for him for Christmas was on the floor, a couple of pictures displaced.

“What’s this doing on the floor?” You bent over to pick it up, even though just that small movement made your head swim. “Whoa…”

Ben grasped your arms and righted you. He stared into your eyes.

“Do you remember what happened two months ago?” he asked.

He was so damn serious, he was starting to scare you. When you contemplated his question, you realized the fog that had claimed your mind for so long was beginning to lift.

Piece by piece, it returned to you.

You remembered waking up in the hospital, everyone coming to see you, the doctor telling you…

“Something happened to me,” you said slowly, rubbing your aching forehead. Your brows furrowed, and you clung to Ben’s arm. “Am I…am I okay?”

That’s what the fuck I’m trying to figure out, Ben thought.

He reminded you that you were taken by Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom. Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team found you, but you’d been hurt. Along with your other injuries, your skull was fractured. It affected your memory, among other things.

“My memory,” you repeated. “Ben, did I…?”

You looked up at him with a small gasp. His face remained stoic, but you saw through it as his gaze veered away from you.

You remembered that he’d been taking care of you with your mother for weeks now. You remembered that you’d forgotten him.

You took his face in your trembling hands. Both sorrow and apology showed in your eyes, along with brimming tears.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry,” you said, through choked emotion. “I can’t believe I…”

Ben didn’t speak, but he met your gaze while trying to stamp down the full force of his relief. He swallowed past an unfamiliar tightening in his throat.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“That you saved me, as usual,” you laughed through your tears. “And that I owe you this.”

Your thumbs brushed his bearded cheeks in a tender caress, and you brought him down to kiss you. His lips met yours in kind as his eyes closed. He let out a breath through his nose and held you a bit tighter against him. Part of him was still wary of hurting you further, and reluctant to even accept this as real.

After a moment longer, you paused, pulling back a little.

“I guess I’m back,” you said, in the small space between his face and yours.

Ben sighed. He brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, and he claimed your lips again.

Dr. Jeong arrived within the hour to check you over, and to confirm that most of your memories had returned. Meanwhile, her team of nurses checked your vitals and prepped you for a blood transfusion from Ben. In your bedroom, you sat up on your side of the bed while a bag of his O-positive circulated into your bloodstream.

A couple of hours of bed rest later, your body was completely healed, and even free of scars. The powerful ache in your head that had become commonplace had vanished. And afterward, the doctors took up their supplies and left.

You were finally able to take in your familiar surroundings. Your fingertips passed over picture frames on your dresser, the ornate perfume bottle Ben had gotten you for Christmas, your favorite throw blanket you’d tossed carelessly onto the floor this morning. You paused for a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.

It was odd to see yourself dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, slightly frizzy hair around your shoulders, your skin free of any scars. You touched your cheek tentatively, marveling at the way you didn’t feel any pain.

Ben’s frame appeared behind you, as did his hands on your hips. You turned in his arms and pulled him into an embrace. You smiled at the warmth you felt through his shirt. Your own portable heater.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked. He had to wonder at how easily you’d slipped yourself into his arms just now. Yet another small reminder that you were his again.

In answer to his question, you gave a hum of contemplation, all while your hands moved down his back. You looked up at him, your lips curving into a smile.

“I think you can guess this time,” you replied.

Ben’s eyes roamed over you, over your face, your body held in his arms, and back up to your lips.

One more added perk of your “medical treatment” had you pulling him down to you by his shirt for a heated kiss. His strength coursed through your veins, making you more solid and energized than when you were once on V24.

Ben heeded your demanding kiss with a near growl as he took you into his arms and walked you back towards the bed. A warning triggered in his mind, however. It had him cupping the back of your head and laying you down with more gentleness than he usually had with you in times like these.

Not to say that he was overly rough with you, but as he positioned himself above you and began to undress you, tank top and pants flung to the floor, you noticed how careful he was being. After you helped him get rid of his own shirt and pants, you slowed things down for a moment, once again caressing his cheek. It encouraged him to meet your eyes.

“Hey,” you said quietly. “You know I’m pretty much as strong as you right now, right? You won’t hurt me. I’m not in pain anymore.”

Ben nodded, releasing a sharp breath. “Right.”

He knew that, of course. He’d just had to get used to treating you like fragile glass over the past two months. Every time he’d helped you, touched you, cared for you, he’d had to use every ounce of his self-control to temper his strength even more so than usual. It was hard to turn that off.

You smiled. An idea sparked in your head, and you pushed at his chest to let you sit up. There you encouraged him to roll over and switch positions, so that he was lying on his back and you were straddling his hips. You slid your hands up his toned stomach and chest and you bent down to kiss his neck.

He closed his eyes as you burned a wet path across his skin. Your lips traveled down his chest, where he slid his fingers into your hair. It prompted you to look up at him with a smile. Seeing him watching you with half-lidded eyes made a small flood of heat pool between your legs.

You couldn’t help but move back up and guide his face up to yours for a kiss. He deepened it pretty much immediately, his tongue hungrily demanding entrance to your mouth as you began rocking your hips against his.

His hands tightened on your waist, but they soon slid up your sides to unclip your bra. He slid down the panties next, and you broke away for a moment to shimmy them down your thighs. You helped him do the same with his underwear.

He gripped at your thighs and ass hard enough to leave serious bruises, if you were normal. Right now though, your bones, your skin, your touch was just as strong as his. Now, his iron grip just made you smile.

The feeling of your smooth, warm skin under his hands, your wet folds brushing against his straining cock, the promise between your thighs, it all made him groan into your mouth. He sat up and held you to him, skin against flushed skin, your breasts pressing against his chest. He grinded his thick, hard length against your core, earning a breathy moan from you.

“Fuck, I’ve fucking missed you,” he admitted. He fisted a hand into your hair and bared your neck for him. He trailed wet kisses that occasionally grazed with teeth. You shuddered against him as your hands splayed against his back.

“Ben, I’m so sorry,” you whispered in his ear. You held him tighter for a different reason.

“Enough,” he said. His words were gruff, but he soothed a hand through your hair. “It’s over. We’re here now.”

You nodded, biting your lip and blinking against the sting of tears.

What you didn’t know was, the last thing he wanted was for you to apologize to him. He couldn’t fucking tolerate it.

Instead, he reached a hand between you and slid a hand down the inside of your thigh, and then two fingers between your folds, and into your wet heat. He wasted no more time in working you open.

He drew a hot moan from you, one that echoed in his ear while his thumb found your clit, and the rest of his fingers toyed with your pussy. You ached to be filled, and your core was already throbbing around his fingers.

You gripped his hair tight. Your hips began to undulate with the tempo of his pulsing fingers.

“Ben,” you implored and whined at the same time. Your inner walls were squeezing his hand tight as his fingers brushed with purpose over that sensitive place, deep inside you.

“That’s right. Fucking squeeze the shit out of me,” he demanded. “Want you gushing all over my hand.”

“You’re about to get what you want,” you panted. “Fuck…”

He didn’t care that your iron grip was threatening to rip a chunk out of his hair. He was stroking you with single-minded precision, until you finally clamped down that much harder on his hand and gasped in his ear. To him, that sound was his own personal symphony. He never got tired of making you come apart, and making you sing just for him.

And you…well, you certainly never got tired of letting him. This time though, you’d wanted to be on top so you could be the one to make him feel good—and give him a little care after everything that had happened. But you couldn’t even argue when Ben rolled you onto your back again. Still, you slid your hands over his chest.

“I wanted to give you some star treatment,” you said breathlessly. You began to sit up again. “Here, let me—”

“You’re gonna let me fuck you deep into this fucking mattress ‘til we break a few springs,” he said. “That sound good for you?”

He bent down and sucked hard at your neck. Meanwhile, he grabbed your thighs and hooked your legs over his shoulders.

“O-Okay,” you agreed, your eyes closing. You gasped as he bit down just under your ear, marking you as his, and earning another gasp of pleasure from you as your body pressed against his.

Then he lined his cock up to your entrance. Once he breached your folds, your squeezing grip on his arms encouraged him to sheathe himself inside you, sliding all the way home.

You shuddered at the delicious feeling of being filled. Your heels pressed into his back, urging him to keep moving. He still took the time to brush his hand against your cheek, a tender caress.

You blinked up at him with a smile. He gave you one back, albeit more reserved. In turn, you swept his hair away from his eyes, like you were wont to do. He secretly reveled in the feeling of it, the familiarity of you. He turned his head and laid a kiss against your wrist.

But after that brief flash of tenderness, Ben pushed forward, quite literally, to steal your breath away. Each new stroke of his cock deep inside you made the coil of warmth and pleasure tighten, for both of you. The sound of mingled breaths and flesh against flesh filled the room as you two moved together. And in this, you two had always been in sync.

His hand moved between you to circle roughly at your clit.

“Come on, baby. At least one more for me.”

You nodded, panting for breath. You moved the angle of his hand to just right, and his last pounding strokes finally drove you over the edge. You came shortly before he did, spilling into you with hot abandon and a ragged sound in his throat.

You two recovered there for a moment. He rested his forehead against yours, and again, you swept your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Eventually, he pulled back and opened his eyes to meet yours. He grasped your free hand off his shoulder and pressed a kiss into your palm. Then he smirked down at you.

“Welcome home,” he said.

Long afterwards, your body felt like warm molasses. You’d both gotten cleaned up and now shared the bed properly in rest. You were half-dozing while you laid warm, comfortable, and naked in his arms.

You’d called your mom earlier to let her know what had happened today, and that you’d recovered fully following the blood transfusion…and if she wanted to grab dinner with Louisa tonight before coming home, then that would give you and Ben some time to “catch up.”

Thankfully, Marie had enough tact to read between the lines. She told you that she’d be back later this evening, and Louisa would come to visit you again tomorrow.

You were at peace as you trailed lazy patterns across Ben’s chest while he smoked a blunt.

He deserves it, you thought with a smile. That led you to shift onto your side and rest your weight on your elbow, above his shoulder.

“You know something?” you said. “Thank you for being so gentle with me throughout all this. I know I didn’t always give you an easy time of it.”

Ben shook his head, smiling slightly before he blew out a puff.

“What else is fucking new?” he said. You smiled too, but you still grabbed his chin, so he’d look at you.

“I’m serious,” you said. “Thank you.”

He sobered, letting out another coil of smoke through his nose.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Your head quirked. You released him to caress his cheek instead.

“Yeah, babe. I’m all healed up now,” you reassured.

“Not entirely what I meant,” he said. He hesitated, his gaze dropping, before it met yours again. “…It took us three days to find you.”

That made you dim with more sobering consideration, when you realized what he meant. You had finally remembered what you went through with the Rawlins brothers, held captive in that dark, disgusting cave. A shudder ran down your spine.

Those memories had only just returned to you a few hours ago, and you’d immediately shut them away in the “don’t file this into your core memories” pile. You really hadn’t had too much time to reflect on that, or even process it all really.

Tears stung at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled, but you tried to breathe past it, closing your eyes.

“I’m okay now. It’s in the past,” you said.

In other words, denial of the purest form.

Ben shook his head with a sigh. He put out his blunt on the ashtray on his nightstand, setting it aside. He slid a hand up your back and gathered you closer against his chest. You rested your head there.

You sucked in a tremulous breath, and your tears finally fell. You sniffed and tried to bat them away, but you let the sound of his heartbeat steady you.

What you’d been through was…beyond words. It was more than you’d ever been through, even with your father. Even though you were grateful to be you again, there were also things you wished you could forget again. Things that were etched into your psyche, and you were certain you’d see them again when you next closed your eyes.

“It shouldn’t have fucking happened,” Ben said. "This one's on me."

His voice dislodged you from your spiraling thoughts, if for the moment. It drew your eyes back up to his as your mouth parted. You knew that was his way of apologizing.

“Ben, it wasn't your fault,” you said, laying a hand on his chest.

He gave you a measured look.

“We both know that’s not true,” he said. Always to the point.

“And…” he began to add, but he cut himself off. You tilted your head at him.

“And?” you prompted.

Ben’s lips pressed together in hesitation. He almost wished he hadn’t set down his blunt. Instead, he looked you in the eyes like a man.

“Your family doesn’t know who’s really responsible for this,” he said. The admission was a small weight off his heart, even though he didn’t want to acknowledge that bit. “All they know is that it was…retaliation.”

You looked up at him then, with a frown.

“You mean Mom and Louisa? You didn’t tell them it was the Rawlins brothers,” you clarified.

After a moment, Ben nodded. "Yeah."

You could thought you could also read between the lines of what he wasn’t saying.

Who’s really responsible for this…

You took in a deep breath, then you released it. You had a feeling your mother would understand if you told her the truth, but Louisa, on the other hand?

“Okay,” you said. “That’s probably for the best, anyway.”

He tacitly agreed, even if the well-hidden depths of his guilt remained. You saw all that too.

Before he reached for his blunt again, you took his hand. You laced your fingers with his, and raised your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss over his knuckles.

“Look, I knew what I was getting into when we decided to be together,” you said. “I don’t regret it, because…I love you.”

Ben’s gaze began to drift away, but you turned his face back to you with a finger.

“I love you,” you repeated, with emotion making your eyes sting. “I know we’ll get past this. Probably with copious amounts of therapy on my end, but we will.”

Ben considered that with a shallow nod. He couldn’t help but reach for you, cupping your cheek. He bent down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. He stayed there for a moment, just thinking.

You gave him the time he needed, and in the meantime, you let yourself be comforted by his warmth and closeness. You also wiped away your remaining tears, sniffling.

“Okay,” he said, at last.

“Okay?” you echoed. “What does that mean?”

“This,” he said, and guided your face to his for another kiss. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. And, after a slight pause, he allowed himself to speak an ultimate truth.

“I love you,” Ben said. His face wasn’t stoic, or reluctant. It was honest.

“I may not say it enough,” he continued, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “But it's you and me. Like Sonny and Cher. When they were good, before the ugly divorce. Or like Bonnie and Clyde. Just, you know, without the grisly end bit."

You laughed and shook your head incredulously. Sign this man up for Hallmark cards.

Ben made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Whatever. The point is, you’re mine, understand?" he said. "That’s just how it is.”

“Is that right?” you teased. A smile tugged at Ben’s lips as well.

“That’s right,” he affirmed, squeezing your waist. You laughed a little more and settled back into resting against his chest.

“Okay,” you replied.

And for now, it really was.

AN: Ahh, the end of a series is always bittersweet, no? I had a lot of fun with this BMD mini series, and I hope you did too! I'm sure I'll come back to these two eventually (there are still BMD requests in my inbox), but let me know what you thought of how we wrapped up here with Wake Me Up. 💚

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

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ladykailitha · 3 months

Text

The Harrington Pattern Part 11

The second one for today.

There is a joust, a wild Eddie shows off his mating dance, and Steve and Jeff plot a romance.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

****

Steve sat on the edge of his seat as he cheered each successful strike the Black Knight made and winced with every hit he took.

The kids were loudly shouting and cheering and even Nancy would leap to her feet when the Black Knight won a match.

It was down to the final match. The Black Knight verses the White Lion. They were two points each. Final run.

The horses pawed at the ground. The knights shifted in their armor as they tried to settle the joints. Every person in that stadium was on the edge of their seat, leaning forward as they held their collective breath.

The man stepped forward with the flag and eyed each knight nervously. He looked up at the king and queen. The king nodded giving his consent. The flag dropped and the man leapt out of the way.

The horses raced down the line as the knights lowered their lances. The audience slowly rose to their feet as the horses thundered toward each other.

No one had yet taken a single breath.

Then...

CLASH!

And the White Lion flew to the ground as his horse made it to the other side of the arena. His squire grabbed the horses reins to stop it from running away.

The whole crowd erupted, the breath finally released in shouts of exultation.

The Black Knight and his squire were at their other end of field, whooping and hollering as they celebrated his win.

Steve and Robin grabbed each other and jumped up and down. They hadn’t seen anything so exciting since Lucas made the final shot of the game.

And it appeared that the boy in question thought the same as he kept screaming “YES!!”

The Black Knight took off his helmet and waved at the crowd. And their entire row let out a gasp.

“Jeff?” Dustin squealed. “Jeff was the Black Knight all along? That is so awesome!”

Now Lucas was completely flipping out. No one could deny that Jeff had won fair and square. That he had the superior skill.

Steve looked over at the king and queen. Neither one of them looked happy to see it had been Jeff the whole time. But they appeared gracious enough when they were handing out the prizes.

Steve was cheering and screaming right along with the rest of them. And it was a cool surprise. Who would have thought that Jeff played his favorite sport.

After the award ceremony they were allowed to go see Jeff at the stable.

Steve looked around when he entered. Jeff caught his eye and grinned. They both knew who he was looking for.

“He’s getting ready,” Jeff said with a wink. “You’ll just not want to miss the next event.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. Whatever it was, he knew it was going to be amazing. He just wished he had more of an idea of what it was. He looked out at the arena floor and saw that the long wooden partition for the joust had been taken down and workers were quickly putting up... what, Steve wasn’t sure.

“Just let me get out of this armor,” Jeff was saying, “and I’ll join you guys in the stands.”

As they walked back to the stands, Robin pulled out her flier of the day’s events and Steve looked over her shoulder.

“What’s trick riding?” he mumbled.

But she just shrugged. She didn’t know either.

They sat up in the stands and they talked among themselves as the workers finished up what they were doing.

The field was mostly empty except a small platform where the rider would mount their horse.

There were two horses, both black with weird looking saddles.

The announcer got up and bellowed into a megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted. “For the first time ever here at the Hawkins Renaissance Fair we have Hawkins own Eddie Munson trick riding extraordinaire.”

Eddie stepped out onto the field but gone were the puffy sleeves and thigh high boots. His costume was tight fitting and boots were soft soled. It still looked period, but it was clearly designed from modern materials which would make it easier to move in.

Strapped to his back was a lute, the same lute he had been carrying all week.

He mounted the platform and waved to the crowd.

Eddie got on to the first horse and got it into motion. The other horse merely shook its mane as it waited patiently for its turn.

Eddie raised his feet and slipped them into a set of stirrups higher up on the saddle. Sending a wink Steve’s way, he stood up on the horse and began to play.

He began singing. Horribly. Eddie was a fine enough singer for their band, but it seemed to Steve he was deliberately off key as he sang ribald bar tunes.

He slipped a harness over his head and around his waist. Then to shock of the crowd, slid off the side of the horse. Steve was on his feet, so sure that Eddie would be crushed under the thundering hooves the galloping horse.

But as the horse turned, Steve could see that Eddie was safe and still playing.

His caterwauling got progressively worse the more dangerous the stunt was. Almost as if he was signaling to the audience that he was safe.

He made it back to the platform where he handed the lute off to someone who had stepped out onto the field for the reason. They removed the saddle off the one horse Eddie had been riding and he straddled both horses, one foot on each.

And off he went racing around the arena.

Steve was sure that his heart had stopped several times, once with every trick Eddie did.

He was also pretty sure that wasn’t good for it.

But Eddie landed every trick like a pro and at the end he hopped off the platform with a jaunty wave and a deep bow.

Steve was cheering up and down as the crowd around him erupted with applause.

Eddie bowed again and with the other guy that had taken his lute, lead the horses away.

Steve isn’t sure who was more impressed by Eddie’s riding the kids or Nancy. Her jaw had dropped from the first trick and remained that way all throughout Eddie’s riding.

“Where did he learn that?” she asked.

Jeff grinned. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Everyone exchanged glances as the whole gaggle followed Jeff back to the stable where Eddie and the other guy were brushing down the horses Eddie had used in his show.

The man, who on closer inspection was a teenage old boy spotted Jeff and waved. “Jeffrey! You did great out there today. Mom hasn’t stopped gushing about it.”

The Party turned to Jeff in shock. But he just chuckled.

“Guys,” he said, “this is my little brother Ollie. Ollie, you remember Gareth and Brian, the boys are Hellfire, the girls kick ass, and the two guys are the brat wranglers.”

Jonathan and Steve shared a look before they chorused, “Hey!”

Eddie laughed, but did the proper introducing. When he got to Steve, Ollie’s eyes went wide and nodded.

“Steve Harrington,” Ollie said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Steve frowned. “From Jeff?” he asked, confused.

“No, man,” Ollie said with a laugh, “from Eddie.”

Who promptly ducked behind his horse under the guise of brushing its mane.

Steve licked his lips slowly as a sly smile took over his face. “No doubt only horrible things,” he teased.

Eddie let out a squawk and glared at him from around the horse. “Hey!”

Steve laughed and Eddie let out a little huff of breath as he pouted.

“Our parents own the horses,” Jeff said, “We have three that joust and two the trick ride and then there’s King, who was a racehorse in his heyday.”

Ollie nodded, “We usually let whoever is playing the king of the Fair ride him at the closing ceremonies. He’s pretty as hell.”

“So like Steve,” Dustin said. “He used to be called King Steve in high school.”

Steve tipped the twerp’s hat off.

“Hey!”

El giggled and Dustin’s head whipped around to face her. She pressed her lips together and looked up and away.

“Can I see King?” Will asked, softly.

Ollie lit up. “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Jeff. “I’ve got get him ready for tonight anyway, so I can I have Will help me?”

Jeff smiled at his little brother. “Sure thing, it’ll make the work go faster.”

“He seems like a good kid,” Jonathan said, “how old is he?”

“He’s fourteen,” he said, “so he’ll be an incoming freshman this year.”

Lucas smiled. “So a year younger than us.”

Jeff nodded.

“Is he going to join Hellfire?” Dustin asked, practically vibrating out of his skin.

“He wants to but with me graduating last year,” Jeff said with a wince, “he’s worried he won’t know anyone but Gareth.”

Lucas grinned. “Well he knows us now, we’ll hang out with him all summer so that come school time, he’ll have friends in Hellfire.”

Jeff grinned back. “I think he’d really like that.”

Steve smiled at his nuggets. He was glad that they were willing to take this kid they just met under their wing and make sure he didn’t get lost at high school.

He really couldn’t have been prouder. He caught Eddie’s eye and the other man grinned.

He lopped over to Steve, the grin never leaving his face.

“So pretty boy,” Eddie teased. “You enjoy the show?”

Steve nudged him his shoulder. “Of course I did. A bit terrifying on this side of things though.”

Eddie laughed. “I assure you, sweetheart, it’s equally terrifying on my end, too.”

“How long have you been doing this then?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and thought about it. “On and off since I got to Hawkins and became friends with Jeff. His mom is the one that thought me, but I’ve only been serious about it in the last couple years. As a way to keep myself from getting too depressed about school.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said.

When he looked around most of them had gone. It was only Robin, Gareth, Jeff, and Max that remained.

“Where did everyone go?” Will asked as he came out the stall with Ollie.

Robin began counting of on her fingers. “Brian and Mike went to go watch the caber toss on the outskirts of the Fair. Dustin, Lucas and El went to go watch the sword fights. Nancy and Jonathan went to try the ax throwing.” She looked around. “Did I miss anyone?”

The rest of them shook their heads.

“And the rest of us were waiting for Will!” she finished with a cheer.

Will blushed and Eddie and Steve shared a knowing glance.

“Hey, do you and Ollie want to come with me to see the bagpipers?” Max asked Will.

Will and Ollie looked at each other and then nodded as one. The two boys followed the pirate queen, walking side by side.

“Well,” Gareth said, “I’m glad Mike missed that one.”

Robin looked over at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Mike is always jealous of anyone who spends time with Will,” Steve explained, “except El. Even if he spends all his time with her, he still gets jealous when Will gives up and goes to talk to someone else.”

Eddie nodded. “That kid has got to get his head out of his ass, before a sweet boy like Ollie sweeps our Will the Wise off his feet.”

Jeff grinned. “I like that idea!”

Gareth snorted. “You only like that idea because Mike called your thief a common rogue.”

“My thief is literally a lord,” Jeff defended. “Like Lord Kelnic is his name. He can’t be a common rogue.”

Steve leaned over to Eddie and whispered, “What are they talking about?”

“I’ll explain it later,” Eddie whispered back.

Steve nodded, knowing that Eddie would do just that.

“Hey, you want to go for a stroll?” Steve asked. “I don’t care where, really. I just want to spend the afternoon with you.”

Eddie perked up. “Hell yeah! Why don’t I show the behind the scenes stuff most people don’t get to see?”

“Sounds perfect.” Steve smiled.

Robin and Jeff shared a fond glance about their best friends and shook their heads as Eddie led Steve away.

****

Part 12 Part 13

I love jousting Eddie as much as the next gal, but I also realize that Eddie looks like a stiff wind would knock him over and would be flying out of that saddle with every hit. So I made him a trick rider instead.

I also did not set out to write Will a love interest, the love interest just shoved himself into my story and I let him stay.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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heartshapedbubble · 5 months

Note

Ello can I request a Norton Fools good x fem reader where she came across the blown up mines and sees Norton (in his hunter form) she’s scared at first but starts to recognise him and slowly starts to approach him reaching her hand up to cub his cheeks ( bro this man needs all the love! )

HOO BOY i agree tho... his release made me regain my interest in norton🫡🫡

[not to be a scum but i'm still open for sanrio emma comms btw😭😭]

fool's gold: imagine...⛏️

cut for length!

paying the bills has become a hellish cycle. break your back to pay off the expenses, relax for the following twenty-ish days, and be sent into frenzy again, not knowing if you're going to have a roof over your head tomorrow or not.

you found yourself hopelessly skimming through newspaper, looking for any job offer possible that would easen up the burden on your wallet. The paper was plastered with offers from bars, post offices and restaurants, but those were a always gamble. will you get your wage or not? and if you will, when? too much effort for something so high-risk.

at last, a small offer in the corner of the page caught your attention. pressed in miniscule letters, it said: MINE RESEARCH. EMPLOYEES URGENTLY NEEDED. EQUIPMENT PROVIDED. underneath the text, an attractive number: $15,000 payed off immediately after the job is done.

not only could this solve the rent for the following 3 months, you'd also have some money left for yourself! you rang the number the second you got home and successfully scored the job, due to the urgency of the situation.

it took you a day or two to start thinking about the job. what do you exactly need to know for mine research? probably at least some physical strength and stamina, you thought. surely it can't be too complex.

you arrived at the mine right on time, the sun slowly slipping back into the horizon to let the moon take center stage. to your dismay, you realized no one else applied for the job. maybe this wasn't a good idea after all? crawling through the narrow, rocky terrain all alone doesn't sound like the ideal scenario. no living being in sight, and 20 minutes have already went by.

still, that money is way too good to pass up. you picked up one of the yellow helmets piled up at the entrance, prayed to whatever god out there that your flashlight has enough power to last the following 2 hours and mindlessly rushed into the collapsing mine.

for the following 10 minutes, your sight unfocused while your mind took the lead, in front of and all around you just rocks and grime, shadows dispelled by the flashlight held by your hip like a lance. only after a good 5 minutes of running did you realize that you, in fact, have no idea what you're supposed to do. what qualifies as mine research? mining, inspecting the ores, measuring the surface?

all sweaty and breathless, the tunnel led you to a large room inside of the mine, the roof extending towards what seemed like a pitch black abyss. carts messily thrown around, bumpy and unpolished geodes laying all over the place, when was the last time a living being stepped foot into this mine? it made sense that such a large sum of money was needed to attract volunteers.

you carefully moved through the rubble, trying to avoid stepping onto pickaxes and shrapnel splayed all over the ground. since you forgot about the gloves your bare hand now held onto the unpromising terrain, the other firmly squeezing the only source of light in this limbo.

the surface grazing your hand now seems like it became... smoother? no longer does it cut and pierce your palms. it's bumpy, but at least you're not risking an infection anymore.

moving inch by inch in fear of falling, the stone below changes its form. you don't even pay attention to the fact that you're now grabbing onto cloth and that, below your palm, a steady pulse is faintly beating.

it's already too late when you realize that you're not alone, and the stone below you starts to take shape and morph until it extends towards the ceiling, now towering over you, slouched like a ragdoll.

complementing the cold shades of grey, a face emerges from the shadows. pale, with defined cheekbones, although malnourished. only his bust passes as human, as below his collarbones there's nothing but a mosaic of pebbles and boulders forming his torso, arms and legs. it - or he, perhaps - is breathing with struggle, coughs interrupting his wheezes here and there.

you feel a sense of dread overcoming you. you freeze on the spot, but he doesn't budge, either. lifeless except for the fact he's breathing and his heart ticks like a machine.

you draw back a step, and he lunges forward, seemingly still not used to this monstrous body of his. he could harm me with ease if he wanted to, a thought suddenly manifests in your mind, and with newfound bravery you inspect the cryptid like a sculpture. your hand grazes over his bumpy and unfinished hands, tugs at the remains of his clothes around his chest. he groans, in annoyance, you assume, but doesn't resist. you climb up a cart to reach his face, your fingers pinch his stubborn hairstrands, inspect the cavity in which his other eye once laid. in a moment of either stupidity or courage you roughly pinch his cheeks - they're cold to the touch, but it's funny how naturally does his intimidating face mush like a little boy's. kind of cute. after a minute of cooing to yourself two of his rocky fingers gently pinch your wrists and put them back to your sides, but his one foggy eye doesn't divert its gaze from yours.

perhaps the flashlight can last an hour more.. you've just began getting to know him, and the mystery of the mine and his origin still lay cold for you to discover.

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maxillness · 3 months

Text

Superstar || LS18 x stranger!reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, oral (F reciving), nipple play, praise kink, sub!lance

Wordcount: 0.7k

Sorry it’s so short 🫶

She wasn’t just drunk, she was wasted

It would have been a problem if the man beside her wasn’t as equally wasted

They had talked for a while, so they had been drinking for a while. Normally she hated talking with strangers. They normally only ever talked about themselves. Not this guy

Lance has approached her, wanting to buy her a drink. Back then it was barely midnight, it was now 1am, maybe even closer to 2

She never thought of strangers like this, but god did she want to jump him. She barely knew him, but there was something about him

It was like a connection. Maybe it was the way his hand had lingered a little too long on her thigh

She scooted closer to him, making his breath hitch “I don’t know who you are…” Her mouth came close to his ear “But you must be some kind of superstar. ‘Cause you got all the eyes on you” He whined low at the feeling of her breath against his skin

“Fuck. Just take me, please” He wouldn’t deny it if people asked if it was the alcohol talking, because he knew it was

“Are you sure?” Their lips was almost touching, but not just quite

He didn’t answer. His hand came up on the back of her head, pulling her into a deep kiss. He pulled her into his lap by her hips

Her hands rested on his shoulders as their lips moved in sync. She pulled away to gather in air

“Mine or yours?”

They stumbled into her apartment. Hands all over each other. Lips puffy, hair messy. They almost tripped as they threw off their shoes. Clothes were flying everywhere as she guided him into her bedroom

He gently pushed her down on the bed. He took a minute to admire her naked body before he went to his knees

He pulled her closer to the edge, his mouth hovering just over her cunt. Her back arched as his tongue darted trough her folds

“Just like that” One of her hands gripped his hair tightly as he started flicking her clit with his tongue

“Fuck. You eat me so good” Her other hand came up to play with her nipple, the pleasure pulling her closer to her orgasm

Her lewd moans were filling the room as well as the wet sounds of Lance’s fingers going in and out of her cunt

“I’m gonna come. Fuck” She started grinding on him, holding his face close by his hair. Her whole body shook as she reached her orgasm

Lance kissed the inside of her thighs as he helped her ride out her high. He pulled out his fingers, moaning at the taste of her on his digits

“Get up here” Her voice was tired, but she managed to stay awake. Lance hovered over her, leaning down to capture her lips in a soft kiss

She roughly flipped them over, earning a yelp from him. This new position only makes him look even more hot

“You’re so fucking hot” Lance whimpered at her words. Her arousal was dripping from her cunt and down onto his abdomen

They both moaned loud as she slowly sank down onto him. Lance’s back arched off the bed as his nails dug into her hips

She started moving slow when she had adjusted to his size. Her thighs already shook from the overstimulation of her previous orgasm

“Fuck, you’re filling me up so good” She managed to get words out through her moans

She loved the way he whimpered at her words “You like that, huh? You like getting praised?” He couldn’t form any words, he just nodded

“I wanna hear your pretty noises” She scraped her nails along his chest. His moans were music to her ears “Such a good boy”

She could feel him starting to twitch inside her, causing her to clench around him, earning a high-pitched moan from him

“You’re gonna come for me like the good boy you are, Lance?” He gave her no warning when he came

He held her down on his cock with a tight grip, which sent her over the edge herself. She got off of him, laying down beside him

“Do you want me to go?” Lance asked once he had gotten his breath steady again

“Not if you don’t want to” She smiled at him “You can stay if you want”

#smut #formula one #dom!reader #Lance stroll #Lance stroll smut #Lance stroll x reader #Lance stroll x reader smut #Spotify #sub!lance stroll

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lance-thunder-reporting-live · 19 days

Text

Good morning Amity Park, I'm your ghostly weatherman, Lance Thunder. Today's Monday, May 20, and there’s a 50% chance of rain. Highs are in the mid eighties, and the lows are in the low sixties.

Amity Park was entirely frozen in time for three days, beginning on Thursday, May 16 at 3:23 pm, and lasting til Sunday, May 19, at 11:47 pm. It is assumed that a ghost froze the city, but then either was defeated, or decided to unfreeze Amity later on.

Rather than being held yesterday while the city was frozen, now Casper High graduation will be held on Sunday, May 26, in the gymnasium. Students will still be expected to arrive by 9:00 AM and the ceremony will begin at 10:00 AM. Seniors will not be making up the last day of school which was missed due to the city being frozen. They are however, permitted to visit to pick up any belongings they may have not been able to previously.

The Fentons will likely be driving today.

#danny phantom #lance thunder #unreality #daily report #05/20/07

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theglamorousferal · 6 days

Text

Persephone's Binding Part 3

An Anger Management/Hardcover ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 Part 2

As Jason was engrossed in the collection of Infinite Realms lore, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in." Jason said absentmindedly finding a stopping point and placing his finger in between the pages to mark his spot. Jeeves let himself in.

"Yes sir, it is dinnertime, I have been sent to escort you to the dining room." He said as he patiently floated.

"Right yeah, let me just find a bookmark-"

"Here you are sir." Jeeves held out a silver feather shaped bookmark from apparently the aether.

"Awesome, thanks." He placed the bookmark in his spot and set it on the side table next to the bed. "Okay, lead the way please."

Once more Jason was led throughout the dark, yet glowing, halls of the High Queen's castle. They passed many different entities, all of which were obviously not human and Jason hadn't seen this diversity of different fashions since he was last at a costume party. There were actual knights with swords and lances, some yeti's with arms full of scrolls, and eight foot tall women with bright blue skin and Amazonian armor, some with multiple arms. There was what appeared to be a wolf-man talking with the knights, in some language that seemed to have some roots in Latin, though other words he could hear were from other areas. Eventually, they arrived at a set of carved wooden doors.

"Here you are sir, the royal family awaits you inside." Jeeves said prepared to open the door.

"Wait, the whole family? I thought it was just Jazz?" Jason was suddenly nervous, he thought he'd have more time before meeting the family.

"It's quite alright sir, tonight it is only the High Queen Regent and High Prince Danny in attendance. I believe she thought the entire family would be a bit much, but the High Prince has a habit of showing up anyway. He is quite protective of his sister." With that bit of advice, Jeeves opened the door.

The room was ornate, though not as large as he was expecting, clearly this was the smaller dining room. Sat at the head of the table in a seat that in some countries would be considered a throne, was Jazz, she still had her helm-crown, but now she was just in the teal toga with clasps shaped like a sun at both shoulders. She still had her arm bracers on, which he expected, if she was trained by an Amazon, then those would likely stay on always.

Sat to her right was a young man, perhaps around 16 years old, with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. He had been talking animatedly with Jazz when he heard the door open and his eyes snapped to Jason. He was in clothing far more similar to the yeti Frostbite, though in different colors and with a white peasant shirt on. Where Frostbite had gold, Danny had silver, where the yeti had blue, Danny had black.

"So, you're the sacrifice huh?" Danny looked unimpressed at Jason's entire existence. "How'd you manage to get sacrificed? You look like you'd be hard to take down for cultists."

Jason took a moment to process what was said and then made his way to the seat to the left of Jazz. He cleared his throat. "They got me while I was distracted helping a little girl get her stuffie that was stuck on her rusty fire escape. When she was walking away with her mom, I got clocked on the back of the head. Now I'm here." He splayed out his hands as if to say 'what can you do?'

"Hmmm, okay that's fair. At least I know you're not a cretin. What are your opinions on the undead?" He slouched back into his chair with his arms crossed, a critical eye on Jason.

"Danny! I thought I told you no twenty-questions! He hasn't even been here a day, and since I was dealing with paperwork all afternoon, I haven't been able to talk with him yet either." She scolded before she turned to Jason. "I am so sorry about him, I had one bad boyfriend years ago and now he thinks any guy that comes near me has unsavory intentions." She turned back to Danny. "Jason didn't choose to be here, remember? I'm sure the whole sacrificing to an unknown being in an unknown dimension has got to be somewhat traumatic and I don't want to make him relive that if we can help it."

Jason snorted. "Honestly, not even in my top ten most traumatic experiences. This one ranks so far a solid 3/10."

"Really?" Danny quirked an eyebrow. He stared longer at Jason and his eyes flashed that Lazarus green. "Ancients dude, what the hell happened to you?"

Jason sighed heavily. "I mean, Jazz already knows some of it, but," he swallowed heavily, "I died." He took a deep breath. "And then I came back. It hasn't been great since then." He said with a tone of finality, indicating he was done with this line of questioning. Danny's look of judgement turned more understanding.

"Okay, let's say we start dinner then? I'm sure you have some questions for us too." Jazz clapped her hands and skeletons came in with carts full of food. They placed plates in front of each of them and refilled the glasses of water before exiting the room. Upon the plate was a cut of salmon, some roasted asparagus and mashed potatoes. Okay, so they at least have a similar diet to humans. He dug in, and was reminded of Alfred's cooking.

Alfred...

"Would it be possible to get a message to my family somehow? To let them know that I'm alright?" He asked a little desperately.

The siblings traded glances. "It might take a while to pin down the correct dimension, but we should have a record of your time here in the archives, and that should have your dimensional code. You mentioned heroes, maybe we can pin down which one it might be if we can figure out which ones have those heroes?"

"There are heroes in your universe?" Danny perked up at the mention of heroes. Seems like the kid is intrigued by them.

"Yeah, there's a bunch, I don't even know all of them. The big three started an organization called the Justice League. Superman, Wonder Woman and Batman founded it to help protect the Earth."

"What's their deal? What are their powers? Do you know any of them?"

"Danny! What did I say about the twenty questions?"

Jason narrowed his eyes momentarily, thinking. Do I tell them? I did show up in armor with a domino on. "It's alright Jazz, I'm used to being interrogated by younger siblings. It comes with having the Batman as a father and all his birds and bats as siblings." He looked a little smug, bragging about his family where they would never hear him.

Both siblings looked blankly at him. Right.

He blew out a breath. "I forgot you don't know who that is." He took a bite and thought how to describe his family. "So, B is the world's greatest detective, and every one of his kids ended up becoming heroes in their own right. All of us are human, one of us has meta abilities, but we mostly rely on our minds, bodies and tech. Superman is from the planet Krypton, but it was destroyed just after he was born and his parents shipped him off to Earth. He's got a laundry list of powers, but the big ones are super strength, flight, enhanced senses and laser and x-ray vision. Wonder Woman is an Amazon Warrior Princess from Themyscira, she was molded from clay by her mother Hippolyta and trained as the strongest warrior of her people. She's got flight, super strength and the Golden Lasso of Truth." Jazz grasped her bracers when it was mentioned that Wonder Woman was an Amazon. Jason looks directly at her. "I noticed you have similar bracers and armor to her, as well as some of the people I've seen around the castle. Were you trained by an Amazon?"

Jazz looked up with wide eyes, not expecting the connection. She quickly recovered and took a bite of food before responding. "Yes, I was trained by Lady Pandora here in the Realms. When I completed my training, I received these." Jason nodded.

"Wait, Pandora? Like the Box Pandora?"

"Yeah, she's nice, but strict. She's the Ancient of Peace, and trained me in quite a lot before I took the throne. I found I quite enjoy sword fighting."

"Maybe we can spar sometime? Lord knows I get enough practice from the Demon Brat demanding fights all the time." Jason and Jazz shared a smile with each other.

"Demon Brat? Do you have a demon sibling?" Danny asked, startling Jason and Jazz and causing them both to blush lightly. He smirked at breaking up the moment.

"No, I just call him that. He's the only one of us that's biologically B's, but he was kinda raised in a murder cult. When he first came to us, he tried to murder every one of us to gain his 'rightful place as blood son'. Obviously it didn't work, but it was not for lack of trying. Replacement got the worst of it honestly, and the Brat seems to mellow out around Dickwing."

"How many siblings do you have?" Danny asked shocked.

"Uh, that's a good question. Are we talking legal adoption or emotional adoption?"

"What's the difference?"

"Oh probably at lease six people."

"I think your dad has a problem."

"Trust me, you aren't the first to say that and you definitely aren't the last." They all dug into their dinner and there was several minutes of quiet. "So, I guess the biggest thing about my universe would be finding one that has the League and meta-humans. Then find whichever one is missing me that should have me in it."

"Yeah, that's probably a good start, I'll get some of my aides to scour the archives. One team to locate the file about the time you spent here when you were, you know," Jazz hesitated, "Yeah, and then I'll have a team looking for the files on which universes have those heroes you mentioned. If there's any other details you can think of to help us narrow it down, that'd be great." She looked at him earnestly.

He smiled softly at her. "Yeah, I'll let you know. I guess another big one is probably that in that universe, I am known as the Red Hood."

"Oh, is that your hero name?" Danny asked.

"Uh, kinda kid. My methods are often frowned upon by the majority of the hero community, they also don't like that I use guns most of the time." He cleared his throat. "Some people consider me a hero, most just see me as a nuisance crime lord of Crime Alley. Which, I get, I do technically run drugs, but it's just to keep it outta the hands of kids and make sure it's all clean so nobody's dying from contaminated product. It's gonna get sold anyway, I might as well make it as safe as I can. I'm just trying to clean up my city as best I can." He carefully wasn't looking at either of them, they seemed like decent people, they probably would agree with the majority on this particular topic.

Jazz placed a hand over his. "I get it. There are some decisions I have had to make since taking rule that seemed counter-productive to my goal, but any little thing helps. You do what you need, those people are just gonna try and get it elsewhere that's not as safe if you don't provide the service, I'm sure some people are thankful for you." Jason looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. That is, his mind stuttered at how regal she held herself as she was comforting him, leader to leader.

Danny cleared his throat breaking the moment again. Jazz was wide-eyed for a moment before collecting herself and Jason blushed to the tips of his ears. Dinner was cleared by the same skeletons from earlier and dessert was placed before them. It appeared to be a chocolate fudge sundae with hand-churned vanilla ice cream.

"So you mentioned sparring, You gotta spar with me before you can spar with Jazz." Danny pointed at him with his spoon.

Jazz sighed, exasperated. "Danny."

"Nope! You have meetings all day tomorrow, I call first dibs."

"Danny!"

"Come on Jazz, I haven't been able to spar with anyone new in so long. Please please please?"

Jazz rolled her eyes and looked over to Jason. "If it's alright with you? He's right, I'm busy all day tomorrow so I wasn't going to be able to entertain you anyway, and it's probably better than being cooped up in the guest room all day."

Jason shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see why not? It'll be fun, I usually spar with an alternate version of Superman named Bizarro, so I'll go easy on you." Jason smirked, but was startled to find Danny already smirking at him with fanged teeth.

"Oh, you'll regret that." There was a bright flash of white light and suddenly floating there was a color-inverted version of Danny with bright Lazarus green eyes. He winked and flew out one of the windows near the ceiling.

There were a couple awkward moments before either of them spoke. "So, I didn't want to be insensitive at all, but uh, are you guys human? I know you said you were from Earth, but I've met all sorts of different types of beings too." Jazz sighed heavily.

"That's a complicated answer." She closed her eyes and folded her hands on the table. "Let's move to the library, we can discuss more details there." They rose and he followed her out the door and down the corridor.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #fanfic #dcxdp #dc x dp #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #get it Jason #live out your romance novel dreams #sacrificial bride au

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the-fiction-witch · 1 month

Text

Say You Want Me Too

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Betrothal) Rating - Flirty Word Count - 1311

A storm rages outside the tall stone walls of Dragonstone, the night sky as dark as obsidian, the sky full of heavy clouds lit only by the occasional sparks of lighting that flash across the sky, thunder often rumbling the bowels of the castle. Jacaerys sat in his chambers reading his high valerian study book in bed by candlelight, already dressed for bed often muttering words to himself,

“Se guēse's skoriot… skoriot… nektogon ilagon va se endia… tistālior…” He mutters to himself,

When suddenly a timid knock comes on his door,

"Enter!" the young prince said, expecting the maester or his younger brother perhaps.

Slowly the door creaks open and as he glances up he takes a double take to check he is indeed seeing what he thinks he is, as much to his surprise he sees his betrothal Y/n, in her small blue velvet slippers and sky blue silk nightie with silver embroidery. Her hair in a tight braid that falls around her shoulder, a candlestick in her hand. She closes the door and stands sheepishly, "I pray I am not disturbing you, my lord Velaryon,"

Jacaerys's mind was racing, His heart beat faster as he realised what this situation could entail, What reason could she have for coming here? This late? Is she in search of comfort? and the fact that Y/n was in such a state was causing certain, desires to arise. "No, my Lady, you are not disturbing me. What reason do you have to seek me out? Is something amiss?"

She slowly approached his bed but she stopped before getting too close, she trembled as she held her small candle almost forcing out her words, "Forgive me I do not wish to be any trouble,"

"You do not know the trouble you cause me my lady," he thought, "So, what brings you to my chambers this late at night?"

she blushed slightly her head tips down to the floor before she gathered the strength to meet his eyes once more, even if her eyes do flick down to him in his bed, "I do not mean to be trouble" she blushed, "forgive me, I am still... New to Dragonstone, and we do not get storms such as this back home... I admit, I am frightened." She explained "I know that must seem foolish to yourself my lord Velaryon, you have been here so long and... Ride the back of a dragon, and fight with sword and lance… I know the idea of rain and lightning in being fearful must seem childish,"

Jacaerys smiles as he sees his maiden blush. "No, no, do not you dare say that. There is nothing childish about feeling fear." He reaches his arms out for her. "Come, my lady, there is no need to be frightened when I am here I will protect you from anything, be it lightning or bandits or anything else that you may have to fear. But for now, you can get into my bed, I will not let anything come to hurt you.”

“Are you sure my lord?”

“I am, come on.” He smiled,

she blushed and set down her candle before she moved closer, she took his hands her skin soft in his rougher hands,

Jacaerys smiles and moves to make space to sit with her in his large bed. "Now, my lady, all you need to do is relax and close your eyes, and I promise I will protect you from anything that can harm you. I ask only one thing of you..." He smiled,

"thank you, my lord, you did not have to be so kind to me" she giggled feeling him so close, "what is it you ask my lord?" She asks squeezing his hands in hers,

Jacaerys chuckles, "There is nothing that I can ask of you that you do not already give me...But,” Jacaerys can hardly contain himself, he wants his little betrothal but he must remain composed. "Can I... Have a kiss, my lady?" He asks her, his words breathless as his heart beats harder.

She blushed at her betrothal’s request, her eyes flickering down to the bed a moment before she looked up and nodded moving and pressing her lips to his cheek, her lips soft and smooth her whole self smelled like honey, when she pulled back her face is red and she squeezed his hands, Jacaerys squeezes her hands his heart is pounding so fast he cannot hold still as he stares into her eyes. He can barely control himself,

"My lady..." He whispers to her, his voice shaking with intensity, "May I ask you for one last thing?"

"yes, Jacaerys?" she bats her eyes,

Jacaerys moves his hands to her cheeks, "May I ask... for a kiss… on the mouth?" He is almost trembling now, he cannot control himself. He wants this beauty so badly,

"Are you sure we are not yet married?" she began to tremble,

"We are betrothed my lady, we are to be married..." He said, "A kiss is not enough to ruin that, my lady." he smirked slightly “She is so sweet and innocent,” he thought of taking advantage of her crossed his mind, but he forced it away, "Please? Just one kiss..."

Y/n blushed even harder and squeezed his hands she nodded and shuffled closer she gently pressed her smooth lips to his own, her lips tasted of honey too, her taste and scent almost overwhelmed him as they shared the kiss their lips moved together a few times before a crack of thunder rumbles across the sky and lightning flashes through the chamber which makes her pull away and slightly squeak in fright,

He chuckled at her reaction and moved his hand to the small of her back, drawing her body closer to his enveloping her in his arms, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head keeping her close and safe, "By the gods..." he whispers to her, The thunder crackles louder and louder and she buries herself into his chest. He can feel her small frame pressed against him and his instincts are to hold her even tighter.

“I’m sorry I-”

“It’s alright, you're scared. But no need to fear I am right here my lady,”

“Thank you Jace,” but more thunder cracked which made her burrow into his chest in fear,

“Shhh shhh shh it’s okay, I’m here,” He cooed, after a while of quiet he looked down at her he felt the burning desire for the girl that would soon be his bride, how she cuddled him, how she looked in her sweet state and he knows he can’t hold back any longer, "I could never do without you. I need you, my lady".He growled kissing her head, "Please, say the words that will make me yours. I am ready for you".

"what? What are you talking about Jace?"

"I want you my lady... In more ways than one, more than anyone else could ever imagine." He pauses, his words almost catching in his throat. "I love you... and I want you, it is as simple as that."

"I see. I do love you Jace you have been nothing but kind to me since I arrived and I'm sure we shall have a long and happy marriage" She nodded

"But my lady, you do not understand..." he gasped, "You are all I ever wanted, but I want more than what you are telling me. I do not want to wait for marriage, I want it now, now that I have tasted your sweetness"...

"you want what my prince?"

"I want YOU." He says, with great passion and determination. "You, Y/n. Now. please… I beg you… say you want me too.”

“I… I do,” she blushed, “Very much,”

“Then let me make you forget this storm and make this a night we shall remember for the rest of our days,” He stroked her cheek and she nodded so he bit his lip a moment before he pulled her into a intense kiss.

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ladythornofrivia · 6 months

Text

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Seven)

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: lady greenstar’s ceremony is all but merry, and the offer that could change the course of her life forever.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, obsession, reader is neutral; neither a green or black supporter, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

a/n: sorry it took forever to write the chapter! It’s finally here! Woo! Reader’s backstory is finally revealed! Woo! If you enjoy, please leave a comment.

Chapter Seven: The Price of Heart

On the proclamation from the Iron Throne, King Viserys granted a ceremony and anointed a young maiden to unite both factions, Blacks and Greens, and renamed her as Lady Greenstar, a star that befell and shook the cores of Westeros, to which have known for causing disruption and awakened in the realm.

Apart from previous accomplishment on saving Princess Helaena and Prince Jacaerys, Lady Greenstar, a newcomer to Westeros, has its gaze is as deadly as a thorn. Upon a gaze of a maiden, men’s hearts fickle in delight, and women’s hearts enraged with fright. And among others, she is nothing but an air of mystery, but her appearance is no more than averagely simple and unimpressive (claimed by Mushroom). Lady Greenstar, whose maiden name is unknown, the time of Viserys’s reign may have yet to be remain, as Lady Greenstar is in an absolute self-merry and encourage the nobles and commoners alike to a celebrate at her unimportant arrival at a tedious ceremony.

~Your POV~

The nightmare hadn’t stopped.

You want to destroy—set ablaze everything into ashes.

In a soundless blight rising in your chest, you managed to gather yourself in the midst of ceremony. You wanted to scream. Heating anger risen within you; you are nowhere near happy with the proceedings. You just wanted to go home, anticipated that this no more than a fever dream, a weirdly filter episodic moment that is meant to be unseen.

Unable to gaze upon the crowd, despite your head is held high, your roundish headpiece wrapped atop your tucked hairstyle; your hairline styled and slicked back, yet your longish manes flowed and adorned your figure, clad in a floor length ivory gown, your arms heavies a wide bishop sleeves, but your forearms are fitted, ends of your v-pointed sleeves rested on the back of your hands. Your bodice, from bust to waist, the ivory corset is encrusted in pearls and gold embroidery, aligned and patterned with black and green stones as your long skirts in mermaid-shaped flowing, not strictly.

Bowing to Blacks and Greens, the ever so watchful gazes on the crowd are perplexed, yet so many spectators are grateful for your deeds. Some women’s gaze directly lanced at your direction with envy, perhaps displeasure of King Viserys’s announcement. As for men, however, it’s unreadable for you, but with unknown gazes may have yet proceed to either have notable rancor or the deepest of illest intentions.

In Westeros, you knew that you could trust no man. For now, trusting the Targaryens is your only option, a sole bargain, a wager to your existence. Nothing has ever come to simple or as festive. All you wanted was to stay in the sidelines, watching the events unfold, not to be a part of one. The real question is: who sent you here, and what was the real purpose? Of course not, you’re just a simple and honest modern woman—or at least what anyone thought of your outward appearance, which prevailed by the designed precision of Queen Alicent and Lady Rhaenyra’s plan of softening image.

You weren’t meant to be here.

The scream emerged.

All eyes snapped away from your direction. One man grabbed—dragged away and pointed it’s knife at Princess Helaena’s throat at the centered floor, the guards had their swords up, as one of them demanded for the man to release the princess.

“None should accept a woman as a knight on the throne,” the man spattered, yellow teeth gleaming, his voice grating with delight, continuing to drag the princess away bit by bit.

“Mother,” Helaena pleaded quietly, the knife pressed onto her ivory skin, trying not to flail.

“It’s either the cause for the great nobles, or the cause of the war.”

Alicent is frightened for her daughter’s fate.

And so, you watched, palm clenched and unclenched. Hands behind your back, your body veiled with a silver sparkling cloak, but one hand seized the spare knife—your knife you had in your clutched purse, moving with caution as you descend the steps without anyone spotting your intentions.

“Let her go,” you said, before turning your eyes to theirs.

Soothe the realm.

The men flabbergasted at your appeased state. “What?”

“Did I stutter,” you said, ambling, the cloak floated a little. “You’re ruining the King’s celebration. Do you want to be executed? You’re in the presence of Targaryens.”

“I won’t lay rest until I see no woman standing beside the Iron Throne. I won’t serve by the likes of you!”

Shaking your head as you said, “Who said it’s about me?”

The man uttered no response but a heaving breath, near Helaena, furrowed with concern.

Unblinking, your head tilted to the side. “You want me, right?”

The man carefully laid his eyes on you.

“You don’t want the princess,” you resumed, drew nearer. “You want me.”

Soothe the realm.

Your eyes indicated to one of the guards to hold him down, but none succeeded on reading your body language. Looking at your side, Queen Alicent’s widened eyes glazed with warning, a reminder to soften the image. Prince Aemond still abide, his violet eye gleamed, his eye stated something more, wanting more of the anticipation of what you’ll do next.

“Let her go, and I’ll give you what you want,” you negotiated.

“What makes you think I could negotiate with such a pathetic woman?”

“Because I’m not a liar,” you declared, hand stretched. “Release her.”

After moments of hesitation, Princess Helaena has been freed into your arms, shaking. You lightly shoved her towards Alicent as you walked onward without looking elsewhere.

And before you knew it, a knife stabbed behind your belly.

The gasps ensued as the fight broke out, leaving the Blacks and Greens emerged with apprehension, still safe and guarded.

Turning around, the knife you held plunged into the backstabber’s throat, but missed—instead it became a slight deep scratch on the cheek and his hand smacked against your cheekbone. Falling down, you pulled yourself back up again and knocked him out unconscious and rushed to Helaena’s side again and escorted her out, leaving the guards to assign fate to the intruders.

The fate became crueler; the man separated you and Helaena, shoving Helaena aside the intruder hooked you by the arms, trapped. When another opponent came, you lifted yourself in the air, and punted the opponent’s chest with both of your feet, leaving you and the large man collapsed. Rolling back, you gathered yourself again and escorted Helaena back at the corridor.

A young boy screamed—Prince Lucerys—his arm being yanked through the crowd. Briskly, you aid to their side, shoving the crowd apart, you casted your cloak—aiming at the foe, and lanced the man’s neck, trails of blood exploded, smearing the young prince’s face and placed him back Rhaenyra’s side.

A tall figure suddenly shielded you; the knife flew at your direction; Aemond deflected the attempted shot with his spare dagger. Queen Alicent and Lady Rhaenyra rushed altogether—guards protected all and ushered back into the corridor, leaving you breathless.

The pain has been numbed due to the shock implanted.

Far back at the pillar, you watched Rhaenyra and Alicent exchanging with altercation while you find yourself leaning on the stoned pillar with your left hand clutched your bleeding waist beneath the white dress.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Rhaenyra stated in shaky breath.

“Of course not,” Alicent seethed. “King Viserys should’ve thought of bringing Lady Greenstar to the Iron Throne to soothe the realm before the commotion erupts.”

“I hadn’t known,” Rhaenyra argued back, cradling Lucerys in her arms.

“You did this. Lady Greenstar warned that this would happen. A private ceremony should’ve been suffice.”

“We need Lady Greenstar to unite both factions—father suggested to that.”

“Your ideas may influence others, but you’ll never influence with me from the misguidance of your indulgence.”

“I have made no declarations and decisions—it is my father who has done it so!”

Bellows of altercation continued as Prince Jaecerys stood nearby you, given you an awkward tight-lipped expression with his hands laid rest upfront.

Blacks and Greens watched two ladies quarreled with venom as your chest heaving. Gazing below onto your hand, the gold ring sparked on your fourth finger; you brought it up to your lips and kissed it.

Everything will be alright, a gentle voice reminded.

Lidded eyes hazed as the hand placed on your back shoulder; Princess Helaena walked over to your side and consoled you with diminutive smile.

Instead of returning the offer, you patted Helaena’s hand your half-lidded eyes in a suggestion that everything is alright. The concentration in your mind has been misplaced that Helaena began to tie your strands to tiny braids. You’ve inspected everyone. So far, it went smoothly—you’ve found no wounds, but when your eyes meet Green sons, your head inclined to a subtle bow. While Prince Aegon bowed back with his smugness, Prince Aemond is as elegant and unreadable. His eye still lay onto you as you faced back, watching the princess and the queen.

Altercations and debate went ongoing.

The aggravating pain hadn’t ceased.

“Stop,” you groaned.

The abrasion struck you so hard that you let a long groan, your head hung back, relied on a cold pillar.

“Lady Greenstar,” Jacaerys said.

“I’m fine,” you assured, eyes watery. “I’m fine.”

Daemon, no doubt, is suspicious. Shielding Helaena with your might, you held onto her spare hand.

The quarrel wasn’t far from over as you sauntered, the belly scorched again, pinching your nerves and coiled your stomach to a point of punishment you couldn’t withstand.

The cough unleashed, veiling the spots of blood.

Someone…

And collapsed onto your knees, trembling with cold sweat, fell onward.

“Lady Greenstar,” Jacaerys called aloud, as he caught you into arms, soon follow by your feet, your body weakened, slipped away.

“You’re safe now,” you said, darting at Aemond, offering him your sweetest expression laid on your lips.

Gradually, your eyes fluttered with slow blinks, choking. Then your vision faded to nothing.

~Aemond’s POV~

“My Queen, Lady Greenstar has collapsed,” Criston announced.

Queen Alicent and Lady Rhaenyra halted, and veered back to your lifeless body in Jacaerys’s arms.

Both women’s anger replaced with fear. “No…” Rhaenyra uttered.

“Take her to the Maester at this instant. We can’t afford to lose her,” Alicent ordered.

All the while, Aemond, the king’s second son, is devastated, powerless and hopeless as the life slipped between your parted lips. Piqued as he was eyeing on the golden ring rested on your fourth finger.

~Your POV~

What the hell was that?

“The life flashes before your eyes,” it said.

Your head snapped to the noise.

“Poor little woman, who’s life has been tormented one after the other,” a voice rang into your ears in a darkened void. “A life of a woman is no ordinary, but will soon be free.”

“Who are you?”

“My, you’re just a thing of beauty. A shame that comes price with it—ever so ethereal but with a demonic spirit residing in you since your childhood, all but bad luck,” it taunted. “You have killed and tortured the mundane, both men and women, especially in your days where you were trying to save your dying lover—born a thief and a liar—the evil men have taught you well.”

“What the hell do you want?”

“I want to make an offer, an offer to which it might entice you. Right now, your very soul is on the bridge between life and death.”

“I know that!”

“Of course you knew. But you didn’t believe that we exist.”

“All are anything but real.”

The voice’s rang into your ears with its taunting laugh. “But if you wish to remain alive and well, I offered you choices, one which the cost of your life to be rekindled. One which you cannot turn your back into—and I offer you this; stay in Westeros and serve the realm, serve the dynasty and find a new purpose and bond. Even if it means of forgetting your dead lover. Or, the Gods will offer a sweet and merciful death—your pathetic and tragic life will soon meet its end and face your maker.”

“I want to go home,” you objected.

“Going home is no longer an option; if you go there, chances are your death will be as quickly repulsive and vile; death is near at your doorstep as soon as your consciousness blurred.”

“What do you mean?”

“The men from your former clan are hunting you down. They have found you. You thought running away from a syndicate after burning everything to ashes would be simple.”

“Why Westeros? Why send me there? Who sent me here?”

“Those questions are irrelevant; time is ticking.”

“At what cost?”

“The price you’ll pay, it’s either your eyes, ear or mouth. Or I will decide for you.”

Goosebumps flooded over you, heart struck with quiver.

“I can’t,” you whimpered. “I can’t!” Fell onto the ground, hands veiled your face, walls you’ve built tarnished as your cries echoed through the void, cried longer than you should’ve.

“Sweet summer child,” it cooed. “Time is running short. The elder man of Hightower wants to burn your body.”

Another shiver ran.

“I know everything. Submit yourself to me, and I shall grant the desire—the offer I gave you—your life will start anew. What do we say to the God of Death?”

“Not today.”

“Good!” the voice rang, enchant. “I knew you have come to made your decision.”

The green light sprang and ran into your heart—your voice reached high into bellows and wails. Nails digging into your chest firmly, nails dragged with blood, already on the floor, knees on your chest. Ears rang in high-pitched noise; ears bleed as nose, and mouth drained in red flow, crying in agony.

“Don’t worry, child, you’ll soon meet the fate that you’ve been longing for,” it said. “You’ll find your purpose here. The history of Fire & Blood, alongside yours, will be rewritten.”

In that moment, you knew the unknown being wasn’t lying.

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green-eyedfirework · 22 days

Text

The sounds of the fighting have greatly died down in the past few minutes and Dick still hasn't managed to unlock the door. It's fucking barred from the outside, he's managed to figure that out, and strong hinges too, if it held against his battering.

He got free of the manacles—there was enough sweat to wrench his hands free, even if one wrist is scraped and bleeding and the other has a dislocated thumb—and he managed to get his clothes back on, but this stupid fucking door.

Dick blinks furiously, jaw tight. The entire room is soaked in his scent and he doesn't know if the fact that the smell of heat has overpowered the smell of his emotions is a mercy or not. His fingers are trembling, his breaths are too high, and his entire body is sore in ways he's trying very hard not to think about.

He just needs to get out.

There's a part of him pointing out that it's not that simple, that he's still on a ship in the middle of open ocean, that he has no idea who's attacked the Blockbuster or why, that his situation will not greatly improve outside this small cabin, that he may be locked in here but at least he's alone, but Dick ruthlessly suppresses that voice.

If he thinks too hard about it, he will break, and he didn't get to be one of the youngest fucking captains in the Royal Navy by shattering into tiny pieces at every difficulty.

Dick pounds on the door in frustration—and realizes, too late, that the sounds on the other side of the door have ceased.

Oh fuck.

Dick edges back when he hears scrabbling at the door, grabbing the letter opener off the desk—not a real knife, but it has a sharp edge and Dick needs something—and willing his fingers to stop shaking as the door is unbarred and finally opened.

The people peering inside aren't Desmond's men. Their attire is too colorful to be privateers—one part of Dick relaxes, the other part tenses up.

Corrupt privateers to pirates.

Frying pan. Fire.

Both pirates immediately wrinkle their noses, discreetly coughing at the abrupt influx of concentrated heat scent. Dick hasn't left the cabin in two days.

This should be his opportunity to attack. Strike while they're distracted, and get free. His grip on the letter opener is weak in his less-injured hand, and he tightens it as much as he dares. But on his first step, pain goes lancing up his spine, and by the time he grits his teeth through the spike, the pirates have recovered.

"That's a Navy uniform, isn't it?" one says to the other, slowly grinning.

"A captain's uniform," the other rejoins, eyes tracing the distinctive gold detailing on his collar.

"I thought we already killed the captain of this saltwrecked heap," one narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not the captain of this ship," Dick says tersely, affronted at the very thought.

Both pirates—he can't tell designations, he can't smell anything over the too-syrupy scent of his heat—look at each other and shrug.

"You're still a captain," one pirate says, and she's smirking, "and our captain loves to have fun with pretty omega captains."

The chill that goes down his spine is colder than last time. Sharp and icy with intimate knowledge of what exactly she means. The reasonable part of him points out that he cannot hope to take them on both, and the entire ship after that. The illogical part of him just attacks.

He doesn't want to go back to that, he can't go back to that, he will do anything to avoid spending the rest of his life shackled to a pirate's bed, one day was bad enough. He's a good fighter, he's a great fighter, but he's fighting his lingering post-heat, the stabbing pains between his legs, the bruises all over his body, the sharp, throbbing bites around his neck, and a bleeding wrist.

One of the pirates grabs the hand with the relocated thumb, and the world goes white.

When it comes back, Dick has been disarmed, arms wrenched behind his back, and is being marched out.

The yawning horror is enough to seize the breath from his lungs. The heat scent is a mercy now, to hide the scent of his blinding terror under the cooling scent and smells of sex he hasn't been able to rub off. It's heavy and thick, and more than one pirate coughs or turns away as he's dragged out.

The ship is full of dead men. Dick doesn't recognize all the bodies lying on the deck, but they're all dressed in privateer's uniforms. The pirates seem jubilant and victorious, vastly outnumbering their prey, and Dick realizes why that is when he catches sight of the hulking ship next to the Blockbuster.

He loses his breath. He's seen the Deathstroke too many times to not recognize it, even at night and lit only by the moon. And that means the pirate captain he's being dragged to face is—

"Captain, we found this one in the captain's cabin," one of the two holding him calls out to the silver-haired man supervising the looting, as Dick digs his heels against the deck, the frantic beat of his heart pounding no, please, no.

Captain Slade Wilson of the Deathstroke turns and goes dangerously still when he spots Dick. Dick's last, desperate hope that maybe he's too disheveled to be recognizable dies an ignoble death at Slade's slow smile.

"Captain Grayson," Slade says, voice dropping to a more predatory tone. "What a pleasant surprise."

Of all the pirate ships and all the pirate captains, did it have to be this one?

"What brings you here?" Slade asks, stalking closer. Dick automatically presses back, but there's nowhere to go, his captors' grips are too tight. "Supervising this ship? Watching over your interests? I have to say, I thought you were too straitlaced for smuggling."

Dick manages to suck in a breath, enough to say, as evenly as he can manage it, "I don't answer to pirates." His voice is hoarse but at least it doesn't crack.

"You're at the mercy of my crew, Captain Grayson," Slade smirks. "We'll get you to answer one way or another." He steps closer, until he's in Dick's personal space, and takes a deliberate sniff. "Or was this a tryst, hmm? Is that why you don't want to answer? Are you ashamed?"

The words are pointed and sharp and Dick's armor has already been stripped. He can feel each one sink in.

"Fuck you," he spits as loudly as he can to cover up the tremor in his tone. His captors take offense to the tone and Dick is forced down with an angry snarl, hitting the deck on his knees with a lance of pain that goes straight through him. Dick can't suppress the way he arches, face twisted around a mostly silent scream.

When the flare of agony recedes, he's trembling, taking in ragged breaths and trying not to shiver. It's a grim reminder of what awaits.

Dick sets his jaw and tries his best to glare as Slade crouches, still looming over him. He jerks back—first a flinch and then more desperate—as Slade reaches out, but between the pirates holding his arms and the deck below his knees, there's nowhere to twist or turn as Slade grabs his collar.

The alpha rips the cloth down with barely a thought, leaning in with an inscrutable expression as he grips Dick's neck in a powerful hand, and Dick is too weak to fight the grip. Slade tightens the grasp to bare Dick's neck and Dick just squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the bite.

He knows what it feels like. He knows how his limbs will get weak and trembly, how the world will narrow down to the alpha who bit him, how the submission will steal away any chance he has of fighting back. How it will leave him all too aware of what's happening to his body.

Dick blinks up at the starry night sky, everything blurry, and waits. And waits. And waits.

He can feel Slade's hot breaths against his collarbone, igniting fresh throbbing in the bites that Desmond laid down, can feel the alpha's firm, inescapable grip tight against Dick's throat, can feel the nose pressed against his skin.

Can hear Slade breathing deeply. Inhaling deeply.

The grip shifts, tilting Dick's head the opposite direction, and he tenses again, but Slade doesn't bite down on this side either. He's just....sniffing Dick. Scenting him. Deeply, past the overpowering smell of heat and sex.

Dick feels dizzy when Slade releases him.

"Let him go," the alpha growls, and this close, Dick can smell the rage in his scent. His heat scent is getting weaker, tugged away by the wind, and Slade's overpowering fury is acrid and thick. The pirates immediately obey their captain, and Dick's arms are released.

Dick doesn't dare to wrap his arms around himself despite how much he wants to, doesn't dare to reveal that much weakness in a pack of sharks, but he can't help the slow exhale when the burning flare of Slade's attention moves off him and onto his guards. "Where exactly did you find him?" Slade growls, and Dick winces at the deep alpha timbre to his tone.

"In the captain's cabin," one of them answers, "It was barred from the outside. We heard pounding on the door and opened it. And he had this." Slade reaches up and takes the—letter opener, spinning it between his fingers with a frown.

Dick blinks in surprise when Slade offers it back to him. He doesn't understand. Is this—does Slade want him to fight? Dick might ordinarily be good enough to give him a fight, right now he's in no state for a challenge. He can't even sit without feeling the throbbing ache inside of him, much less attack. But being armed is better than weaponless and Dick reaches out to take the blade.

Slade catches his wrist. Dick freezes, but Slade's attention is on the cloth wrapped around his wrist, and the pirate captain gently tugs it free to reveal the scrape beneath it. Dick winces at the sight—he's all but flayed off a patch of skin below his thumb, and there are cuts extended up the back of his hand.

The alpha makes a low, warning rumble, and Dick barely clamps down on the appeasing keen. He's too raw to be calm with the full force of an angry alpha in his space—he's been attacked and held captive and assaulted and the violations have stripped him bare. The threads of defiance he's clinging to are slipping out of his grasp.

There's a part of him—a small part, growing ever larger and ever louder—that just wants to submit and make it all stop.

“Take him to my cabin,” Slade demands after he straightens up, anger unfurling hot and thick, and Dick is too busy trying to breathe in the presence of overpowering rage to register his words. Until he’s hauled up to his feet and pushed towards the boarding plank.

Something inside him goes cold, like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. Perhaps he should be grateful that Slade’s taking him to his cabin. Desmond told Dick he’d throw him to the crew once his heat was over, and Dick has no illusions about his ability to survive that.

Dick keeps a firm grip on the letter opener and doesn’t struggle against his captors. He only has one solid chance, and he can’t waste it here. He forces himself to keep breathing and keep moving, even when his feet touch the deck of the Deathstroke.

#my snippets #sladick #pirate au #omegaverse #past noncon #protective slade

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chiyoso · 7 months

Text

HERRSCHER OF DEATH x HSRVerse PART TWO

▶SYPNOSIS. after successfully finding welt yang, as well as dealing with other encounters, you sought out to explore further, hoping to learn and differentiate this universe between being a new reality, or something constructed artificially by the imaginary tree. the xianzhou luofu for example, being one of many stops that you took interest on.

▶CONTENT. crossover, headcannons + combined oneshot, hsr x hi3rd, hi3rd elements, heavy descriptions of fighting, female reader, serious themes, no usage of y/n, flirting, reader's just a tease, heavy topics, dead dove: do not eat.

“You're beautiful.”

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 is perturbed, taken aback by your straightforward, words for him.

You were discovered floating, at least stomach level at one of the balconies where the Jade Gate resided grandiosely behind you, floating and laid comfortably, suggestively against your elegant, divine key—your lance, the very lance which caused attention to artisans within the Luofu.

It was twice the size of you, it was darker than midnight, flowers that patterned on its surfaces were replaced in glittered lines of gold, a more elegant, eerie version of the normal Abyss Flower than that one Schicksal Valkyrie had.

And with that, you held death—it was beneath you, leisurely, awaiting your commands.

You remained motionless on air, gravitating lazily, up and down idle, nonchalant towards the leading looking figure, and the people stood before you under his command.

A ruler? He did look the part, ravishingly at that.

Not caring too much, you just wanted to explore, traversing this bubble universe, all without too much usage of your limbs really.

Since a specific someone, frilly, pink and uplifting, somehow had managed to tire and drain your mentality through rigorous, unrelenting questions about you, your nature, and the relationship you had with the previous Herrscher of Reason—no, he had previously told you to stop addressing him by that title.

The mission in search for the missing Sovereign of Anti-Entropy had reached its peak, the task was completed, you were done.

What was not, was the overwhelming curiousity you harbored towards such a complex, and sturdily built universe. This world—this... bubble universe. Behaving so accordingly, properly. The stability of everything, it was almost anxiety inducing, frighteningly perfect, you were uneasy from how detailed, sentient and alive everything and everyone was.

Perfection is non-existent wherever sentience prevailed, but this... this is truly next, next level.

You're certain that this world wouldn't fall victim to the Sea of Quanta's abyss, not after being birthed with a vast, new whole new star system, ecological ruptures scattered in highs and lows, numerous amounts of advanced technology existing in all kinds of ways and forms, each world having their own ways of tech akin to their aesthetics and traditionalism.

And if the imaginary tree can create such complex systems, visuals—just how powerful, potent and complex is it to create godlike beings similar to you that could eradicate any existing molecule if they so wished? All the more reason to explore and gather valuable data for those awaiting you in your original world.

That's speaking if you do manage to find your way back, given the knowledge from Welt Yang that he hasn't found a way yet. Safely at least.

Speaking of perfection.

Golden irises met yours, he studied your intricately and interesting designed eyes, they were different, abnormal, but he was accustomed to concepts such as yours, at least, that's what he'd like to believe.

Northern star shaped pupils, a hollow, gradient iris as its bastion, one of many things he noticed about how ethereal you really were.

To give you a compliment with those words would be an insult, it was an understatement.

You were more than mesmerizing, extraordinary, otherworldly, but one thing was most clear to the General; you were also a threat, a large scale one.

He was no diviner like Fu Xuan, but the premonition of unease settled in, engraved so deeply within his gut.

“Your kind words are received, however,” sharp sounds of armory clinked and shifted, winds being cut forward as the horizontal row of spearsmen that positioned themselves behind the general, weaponry raised—all defensively towards you,

What a predicament you've gotten yourself into.

“What are you, and what do you stand to achieve at this hour of day, my lady?” His unidentifiable gaze remained to your direction, occasionally, subtly glancing down towards the weapon you had displayed under you, and back up to meet your hypnotic eyes.

The commotion from the civilians only grew, be it humans, Foxians, or the Vidyhadras.

Some had caused an uproar from your overly grand appearance, some were whispers, quickly plaguing gossips of you being a high Emanator from the deceased Aeon of Beauty Idrila, and the majority—perceived you to be a threat.

All assumptions based on how their mighty, Arbiter General had his Cloud Knights stationed protectively for them, and with apparent offense towards you.

Even if you were, Jing Yuan remained that positive demeanor, he had to, for the lives that resided in Central Starskiff Haven.

“Your... negative, internal inputs of me are so loud and misplaced, handsome,” you had to deeply inhale back a visible reaction, the way he stiffened when you gave him a nickname was nothing but so utterly, endearing.

“But, to avoid rousing concerns and disputes that you are so desperately trying to avoid,” you exaggerate, musing him with a chesire-like smile.

“I'll lower myself down to your standards, all for you,” your mouth slightly parts into a small grin, taking in that miniscule amount of surprise that showed on his face from the upgrade of handsome to that.

Lovely, just lovely. That twitch in between his brows, the slight pursing of his top lip, kissing it to the bottom, the way he'd raise his head to stand tall, masking whatever emotions that stirred cruelly inside him.

Subtle his reactions may be, his embarassment was present to your keen observations.

Your lance beneath your body dissipates into a golden light, leaving behind particles of particles, your form now straightened again, taking footing on the railing of the balcony, your hands raised to the sides of your head.

To diffuse the intensity of the situation of course, even if you did have to make yourself look weak by a small amount, aware that last time's show of strength towards the Astral Faction did a number of them—mentally anyways.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 would push unnecessary thoughts to the back of his head. Unorthodox thoughts related to attraction, ranging from the way your fingers effortlessly be positioned in a way similar to dancers that visit the Luofu, enthralling, captivating, the way your eyes—those eyes, the way those stars would glide, seize him, his knights, and the overall dauntiny situation.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 wasn't one to fear, but you were just haunting, overflowing with elegance, and you were dangerously coy, something that would, at theory, weaken and enable that primal instinct you see in charmed men.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 would slightly lower his guard down, signaling his men to lower their weapons, his own right hand moving towards the side of his head, mirroring half of your surrendered gesture.

But alluring your appearances may be.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 will not waver, nor will he allow his self-mastery of calm resolution to be wavered by your antics. To protect the Luofu, he'd add, defensively, even if the very concept of radiance stood confidently, and defiantly before him.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 would see you, see past your entity-like behavior, observing how you behave once his golden eyes travel enough, just enough to know you were a work of art underneath the silk you wore.

You were otherworldly, but you were still human.

”My lady...” He took a step to you, eyes never leaving your more visible physiq—your eyes.

He took a few moments to claw at any given thing that would reclaim his previous state of calm again, the silence, accompanied with a light buzzing and bustling commotion, filling his ears, uncertainty dulling his senses for a moment.

Be strong, General. He reaffirms himself, steeling his mind and heart, a noticable shift in his demeanor while you both locked your gazes to one another.

“You... are not a citizen of the Xianzhou Luofu, that much is obvious. Vast, the Astral Express may be, I have not heard word of you having an alliance with the travelers accustomed in traversing within the stars,” Oh, them?

“I have also noticed that you don't bear the crest of the Interastral Peace Corporation,”

Ah, so that's what it means. Previously hearing one, or a hundred continuously yell abbreviations during their chase for you.

For an alliance that wore the word 'peace' proudly in their name, their tactics were sure far from it.

“And the way you appear and hold yourself in such high, confident regards, even in my presence...” Mm?

So there is something special about hi—

“You, are not human, and of this world, are you? At the very least, one of which where the Luofu presides,” the air shifted, Cloud Knights once at ease, now filled with confusion, mixed with an alarm as they hear their General speak out with stern, a tone that can't be differentiated between being a question, or a threat.

Ha.

...

Even that Schicksal maid couldn't discern large, and small scale details that quickly upon just meeting a stranger such a few minutes of close contact.

“...You'd be more than correct.” You attempted to hold yourself and your facial muscles motionless, keeping your hands up to both sides of your head for him. You wouldn't hear the end of it from the trailblazers if you displayed such a disrespectful, unwelcomed, excitement. It was unbefitting of this situation, that much was obvious.

Mmh, but you would digress, for this man was so very, truly fascinating, one that interested you the most. Apart from the blue haired man that craved death in earlier events.

You would assume his abilities, almost purposely rousing him to invoke terrifying reactions you know he's capable of underneath all that reservation and mental fortitude.

His observational skills, overwhelming, giving you a surge that you are being preyed upon on, cat like eyes and reflexes, dilating towards everything subtle you do. That hollow, yet welcoming enough smile that doesn't reach to his pretty eyes, staged for the civilians in confusion, protecting them from feelings of panic and terror.

The highlight in his eyes that would shine brightly as if he just solved every problem there is, the problem being you perhaps, solving you without hints and solutions, guiding him to this battle of composure. A trained body language and demeanor so used to being in regal command.

And a mouth so well versed in literature and strategic prowess, knowing what words to use in all times. you could just...—

“An Emanator, then?”

...

Huh. What did he just call you?

His voice sounded lower than before, almost threatening, the delivery of tone in which you only picked up on since that expression still retained on that pretty face of his.

It may be a pleasant, questionare he'd staged carefully to not alarm his knights and the people present, but to you—you were aware it was only masked hiding the fact that it was an interrogation.

Maybe, a deserved one at that from your sudden appearance within their faction, but since it was a public confrontation, he'd trust your judgements that you wouldn't act so rashly, especially with innocent lives around the luofu were present.

What a bold, bold man.

Already trusting you to the stars with just a few moments of talking, since establishing main key points with you in entirety, of this conversation.

Wait. No, wait a moment.

The young March 7th did ramble to you something about an adventure of theirs not too long ago—containing a word with Emanator, or Lord Ravager within the storyline of hers. Ah.

An emanator. A defeated one. Phantylia, was it?

“Tch,” You didn't like that comparison, assumption it may be, it irked you, especially since encountering a being far greater than her, at least, almost, just barely almost the same level as you being a Herrscher.

You were only nothing but...

“Greater,” you lowered your hands to your sides, standing tall, chin raised with your eyes, fierce and lowered to them—towards him.

“...Greater.” Jing Yuan would repeat, slowly, as if he was relishing the intensity of the meaning behind your answer, the both of you staring each other down, neither side's auras waning down, exceeding amounts of hostility by the second, even if his was misdirected towards you.

He could only assume negatively then, but you were only reciprocating their behavior, after all.

You move both limbs up to your sides once more, a gradiose pose, unphased to the endless sky that accompanied this enormous grand hexafleet that reminded you of the Hyperion of Schicksal.

A step back from the railing would be a mortal man's doom to, perhaps, between, a fate of an endless free fall, suffering from loneliness, with death not being able to cradle and bring you to salvation—or, you would be accompanied with a fear and thoughts of inevitable doom as you fall to something ranging from abominations of the so-called Aeon of Abundance, or.

A simple, boring splat, meeting the ground with a gruesome, inelegant end.

His eyes narrowed with your gesture, finding himself—or the hand behind him subconsciously ready to summon his glaive, a defensive stance so buried deeply into his body that the simple word 'reflex' can't do it justice.

“By 'greater', my lady, you mean you are...—”

Ancient. Everlasting. A covenant.

“Immeasurable, inconceivable, a vessel to humanity's fatal destruction that reached over fifty thousand years ago, a concept humanity has yet to grasp in those countless eras of waste and fruition,”

“An ornament, a paradoxical lament to something greater, far, far greater than destruction itself,”

“I am greater, than those who were labeled the greatest.” It wasn't as if you were trying to appear narcissistic, nor overly confident in your abilities.

But that was only the bigger, and bitter truth.

And it is how Raiden Mei (Herrscher of Origin) would potentially word things given her serious, primordial nature—and your claims of such power, being supported due to the sudden glowing of your eyes.

The sound of cracking, and shattering glass that only you and the General can only hear since he was the closest, sourced from the skin behind your exposed back, a dark mist seeping out of it little by little, along with your Honkai energy levels that were growing simultaneously in an alarming pace.

What's worse—you were unaware of the phenomenon you were displaying right now for it was subconscious, as you revel in the truth of your words with a grin. A misplaced, mistrusting grin you weren't quite aware of you were showing for the General.

Not a Welt Yang within the area right now.

Not a Sovereign, nor a retired Herrscher in your sights to control the situation with knowledge he only held about your kind—your existence.

Not a creature that matched your power and strength, living or not, to stop you in your glory.

The weight of your words manifested into something heavy, full of density, full of dread, it felt awful, sickening, suffocating, his Cloud Knights and those who were near to hear your frightening words of calamity tensed, sweat starting to surface underneath the fabric that hides their terror, their feet glued to the cement as a helplessness guided them to their internal panic, his Cloud Knights in desparate waiting for any sort of order, movement, any syllable from the man before them.

The Jade Gate behind you blocked the brilliant light for the singular, attentive individual that remained tall, a pillar that he had to be for the ones cowering in the heaviness of your words—the Arbitrator Charioteer stands tall, immovable to your claims of calamitous power.

A Lord Ravager, then. The thought internalized inside his mind based on the grevious words, words of grief worthy testaments, laid bare for the citizens to find themselves in a state of fear that doesn't have the need to use any vocal chords.

“A threat,” he voiced, low and firm. His weaponry materializing from the back, the long length of the spear-like weapon, an oriental, traditional looking glaive, finding its solace within his grasp, making him appear complete his weapon apparent.

“You say you are the home to an enemy of humanity, do you acknowledge this, my lady.”

The glaive's tip finds its way towards your direction, the seriousness of the situation finally weighing down as you, your pupils landing on the weaponry pointed at you.

You look to your surroundings beyond the man, arms lowered as your gaze dissects the crowds near you.

Fear, and only fear.

Something you are so accustomed to since bearing the Will of the last Herrscher of Death, and only those who were equally—if not stronger can only ever truly look at you in the eyes, like how this man before you is currently doing.

“You raise a weapon to me.”

“A weapon with intentions to protect those who stand behind me,” his hold tightens around his weapon, his expression mirroring the seriousness of yours, excluding the disbelief you had, mixed with... something else he couldn't discern, at least not yet.

A long, deep inhale. To the point where you exhaust your lungs of air, then exhaling through your teeth, the few last seconds of it being shaky with lips parting slightly, forming into a small, horizontal oval.

They are only fearful. A kind voice reassured in the center of your mind, though it was faint, it was impactful.

That fear being you, you mean. A familiar, malicious one intruded, causing you to bring a hand to your head again, grasping the side as you clicked your tongue.

Even talking about a truth relating to your power, urges the Houkai?

No—illogical, it attacks your mental capacity.

To weaken it. Your emotions, your willpower. You'd long forgotten since then, for it had been quite long ago that anyone, had manage to waver your mental strength.

But you can't help it, you hate being looked at with such genuine fear. You hate it, you really do.

It was unfair, it really was. You only do good.

You've been only good. Only nothing but good.

You breathe unsteadily, giving yourself to the silence to calm yourself for a few, long moments, selective hearing at play.

Something was amiss, the General would observe in his guarded silence, lowering his weapon to his side, vertical, the end of his glaive grounded to the cement. He was to take a step, treading in eggshells, making his way with intentions of closing the gap between you and him.

But a hand, yours, a palm towards him had stopped him dead at his tracks, halting his attempt of a succor—towards you.

You're not one to seek help.

But, stubborn as you are, it would be devastating to put this hyperion like faction to a ruin that you've gotten used to seeing everywhere.

Ah. You, again. Me, again.

And so? You are unwelco—

Being a Herrscher, a catastrophic one, at that.

What is a Herrscher like you blending in with human civilizations, through time and time again?

...Ha. You are weak, I have conquered you, stabilized you—and myself long, long ago.

Yes. Yes, that would be the case right now, wouldn't it, partner of Death.

But recall, where a Herrscher presides—is where my existence remains intact.

For my will... is neverending.

Just like death, infinity and everlasting.

Tch. To choose the unpredictable willingly, that was your forte, to use the unknown in retaliation against the calculative will inside you, to descontruct the threatening finality of your stupor.

It is a new era. This one especially, the world of Pegana, the world that habors no virus that nestle inside you—at least, that's what you believe and have observed in your short time in this 'bubble universe.'

They don't struggle against the Houkai that resided inside you, and that was good, relieving.

Not until traumatic imagery, thoughts of you bringing a fate worse than whatever hell already existed for them, visible, cruel, and horrible.

The fragment of that possibility fine tuning muscles on your face to something sour, having that expression noticed immediately by the General that stood brightly before you.

“You,” you let out a call towards him, similarly to a snarl in your mental discomfort, gaining his attention. You sought out in voice, seeking out warmth, pacing yourself internally, resuming to reassure your will with familiar words that led to alleviate your worries.

“I don't desire to cause harm, and—”

“—And yet, you speak in alarming malice, my lady, such brutal, unfathomable words, coming from that mou-.. from- from the way you speak.”

...What was that pause?

“Listen,” a slight jolt from him, “and listen well,”

You appeared just before him in one step. His fingers twitch, his reflexes, motor skill, practicing heavy, heavy restraint to just have a swing at you.

Time had stood still for him, seeing you closer, you were no taller than him, but you remained intimidating, if anything, the differences made you appear more alluring, accompanied with lucent eyes he only started to focus on once captured by your gaze, an eager eye contact that matched his vigor, that subconscious curiousity and excitement, growing ever so finely, but then.

He remembered those under his command.

“YIELD—yield your weapons,” his free hand simultaneously moves up, open, signaling his Cloud Knights just in time, the muted rustling of equipment now heard, winds that were sliced from their cloud piercers towards you now halted abruptly, and of course, you hadn't wavered one bit. “Wise,” you add, tilting your head up to him.

A vicious, musing smirk, one which of which he couldn't decide to detest it, or to be smitten by it.

At least for right now.

“...If you think and speak of me in such ways, why haven't I brought said ruination into this beautiful, well constructed flagship we currently reside in?”

“Mm,” A great point. He'd look over his shoulder, towards the Cloud Knights coupled defensively, a sum of Xianzhou locals, astral tourists, stilled by fear and unease.

One last deep breath—you straighten your form, the hand from your head moving downwards to your chest, this time inhaling through your teeth. Simultaneously, the glow from your eyes would dull, along with the rejuvenation of your cracked skin, closing up a rift-like wound that was sourced at your spine.

The General sighs, the free hand moving towards his head, now letting frustration that had been tugging at him since this encounter with you.

It was unhealthy to someone imbued with mara.

There were only a few lasting seconds to take a stand, an initative, a singular choice that wouldn't provoke, you—nor worsen what the crowd that flocked together was feeling.

It was truly a taxing, and difficult situation.

Only for him anyways.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 will move with purpose, in every action in his next courses of actions. You would think in his 800 years of loyalty and commitment to the Xianzhou Luofu would easily override his curiousity for you—not at all. Eight centuries of repetitiveness, without the need to indulge in the other mysteries of the universe, and that will also be eight centuries of boredom, perhaps something the discover of your existence can begin to alleviate.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 is a man, an immortal one, the mara that presides within gnaws at his mind, but death isn't able to welcome him just yet, he is unmoving to that concept, but finding himself hesitant, yet feeling that want to play this game of cunning and intelligence against you.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 found eerieness, and a not so welcomed serenity the moment you introduced yourself formally, grand and opening, having you in the center of the divining area within the Divination Commission, wrists, ankles binded separately, ones that held you together, rendering you immobile were something of astral configuration, projection, but some sort of space manipulation, enchantment you can't fanthom, and most importantly—can't get out of.

And 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 would himself revel in that little smidge of discomfort you had, the little creasing between your eyebrows despite the polite and forced smile you had, amused at the way your hands would move, wriggle against the starry chains, and finding himself more impressed once you manage to hold your expression tightly, along with managing to hold back a sound with that pretty, pretty mouth of yours.

Because every time you would try to free yourself, your entire being feels this electrifying, unpleasant burning, it is invasive, mind and emotional means, it runs through your very soul, it tugs at it, warning you, and it behaves similarly like the Houkai within you, and it is sickening.

Sickening to feel something foreign creep up to you again, to try and destroy you from the inside out, what's worse—it had no traces of Houkai Energy, so you weren't able to identify and manipulate it at all, and everytime you would use your own abilities, you would be met with something sharp, a weapon immediately pressed against your nape.

Curiousity had once killed a cat, but what feline is there to be seen, for they have grasped only but a predator.

“You were the one who asked to be binded,”

“To cease any worries, of course,” a half truth. You feign another smile, one that he would mirror with slight amusement. Just where is this confidence he was getting from? You'd think, wincing as soon as your body naturally tries to free itself again, biting your bottom lip to stifle any noise.

“These... binds, they allow you to sense any malicious activity, yes?” The General would let out a musing hum, walking towards you, eyeing you.

“As much as I would love to partake in offering you knowledge,” he looks towards a direction, and you follow his gaze. “Unfortunately, you'll have to relay your questions to the Diviner over there,” A pink colored hair, a hue you wouldn't associate with Ms. March, her demeanor held respectable prowess, something you can admire.

“I see,” you reply, short and neat, sighing.

“Is this necessary, you question.” he narrates for you, taking the words that were already subconsciously forming in the back of your head.

You found it endearing, cocking your head to the side, a genuine smile this time, one that shifted immediately into a smirk. “You'd have to stare at me in long amounts to know what thoughts I currently harbor,” his head returns to your direction, finding those golden eyes gleam along with yours, his lips almost curling upwards.

Almost, but he won't allow it. Not just yet.

“Mm, you would be correct,” So, so dangerous.

“But almost anyone would think that once they know Lady Fu will be invading one of humanities vulnerabilities—the mind, being one of them.”

“Hmp, so much resistance for what...” you mumble softly, complaining about the way he would deflect your advances—he had been since encountering you, especially when you were on the way to the place where you currently are.

“I don't know what you mean,” you were heard. His answer made you look away from him, towards the calm ether, an atmosphere showered with golden leaves, most likely sourcing from the beautifully large scale tree you saw on the way to here, and those golden leaves, caught and nestled within the fabric of your outfit, only enhanced the state you were in—you being flushed, or almost from his comment.

And he'd think and believe, that this current expression suited you far more than the hierarchy fitting description one you masked yourself with.

You sigh, walking a few steps towards him. “As if I would act on malice,” you correct, fatigued, just arriving beside him, knowing he has you in his peripheral. “No, but you are still actively trying to escape, are you not?”

“If there's one thing that would unsettle me, it would be not able to move freely,”

“...Yet, you haven't, not once, have complained during your willing capture, especially when I was proving you immobile.” What are you doing, General. He berates himself internally just after saying that.

“...Your hands did feel better than these things after all,” silence. He answers with silence and three deep breaths, arms closed defensively, your words clearly, clearly affecting him, troubling him.

“Say,” he breaks the silence, and your amused humming. “Are you really fifty-thousand years old? Or did you mean it, harboring something of that age,”

“The latter,” you're quick to answer, now turning heel, moving towards the edge of the platform, eyes squinted nonchalantly. “Are these skies endless as they seem, or is there something that would await you down there?”

“I wouldn't know.” “Why n—”

“Because I haven't indulged myself in a free fall,”

You turn, looking over your shoulder, meeting his golden eyes, unable to choose between annoyance or attraction from his sudden sarcasm.

“General Jing Yuan,” a voice interrupts your reply, your head both turning to the source.

Mm. Jing Yuan, huh.

“Ah, Lady Fu,” he'd acknowledge the pink haired's presence, placing her attention quickly to you, and it only amused you, given how she had this look of disapproval, a twinge of curiousity.

But of course, emotions are more stronger when facing the unknown.

“The Matrix of Prescience is functioning at its finest, any unsealing, rudimentary or advanced would be completely left unscathed, and any type of escape will not be possible for the acting God as per dire request, at least, in 824 possibilities I've calculated f—”

“How accomodating,” you interrupt, shooting the Diviner, and the General an unamused look, a wry smile to hide a slight bitterness that you won't deny within you.

“Only for the best,” He'd add, low, teasing, grasping your attention effortlessly, noticing that slight tensing of your body language, quite liking the effect he had on you currently.

“Only for me, then?” You're quick to retaliate, now striding towards him, smirking and you'd purposely exaggerate your movements, alluring and elegant as you move, catching that miniscule, quick shift in his eyes.

“For the ones unwilling to share their truth,” he looks down as you arrive, indifferent you'd think, but he looked stiff, too professional, unnatural.

“As if your questions wouldn't be answered if you asked in the first place,” you're correct and you know it. “I digress, Lady Herrscher,” the pink is quick to interrupt. “There would be far more possibilities to assess if we were to take that free, unpremeditated route considering your claims of absolute destruction, whether it'd be the escape of your existence, endangering the Luofu, or—”

“That gate, it is acting as a fine line between the stars, and your faction, yes?” you interrupt, liking the slight crease of annoyance between her eyebrows.

“...You would be correct.” Fu Xuan answers, jolting shortly after once your head lowers to her, eyes dark with suspicious amusement.

“Be aware, had your shortly assessed claims prove multiple chances of being true, I would have already done so the moment I stepped foot into what you call the Jade Gate,” you answer with a wry, cold smile, your voice carrying a serious tone this time, along with your expression just like earlier tall, menacing, and haunting.

But still beautiful, the thought nestles comfortably in Jing Yuan's mind, eliciting a heavy exhale through his nose, and you can't identify if it was exhaustion, or frustration, but what you have determined is that he was calm, too calm for someone who is in the presence of a Herrscher.

...Or do the concept of Herrschers not exist in this universe?

“Hm,” the Diviner's eyes narrow, considering, thinking deeply, ignoring the threatening indications in your tone.

“That would... erase 7,254 possibilities of you wreaking havoc, causing no harm and chaos towards the Xianzhou Alliance, as well as having the idealogy, the possibility of you being a Lord Ravager, as well as the part where your loyalties lie for the Aeon of Destructio—”

“Thank you?” “It isn't a co—” the General interrupts by movement, and the action of coughing dryly onto his fist, stepping in between both you, and the Diviner.

“My lady, would you be so kind to indulge and alleviate our worries? It would be of much great help to the Xianzhou's mental fortitude, as well as mine,” he brings out his hand, trained, calloused yet well taken care of, towards the direction of the large, and no doubt advanced technology that was currently up and running, ready for you.

But, if you were to round up the little information you were given based on this sole interaction alone, this astral looking device would, in theory, be able to read, or pry into either your mind.

And that wasn't good for you, neither it is for the Houkai Energy that takes home in your body.

“I have a favor to ask both of you, and the Luofu,” they'd both perk, the word unexpected showing in their expressions to your sudden request.

“Whatever it is that is ongoing, cease everything once you witness something, anything, fluctuate, do everything to render me immobile, unable, or useless,” you'd look to the General for the last part of your sentence, a serious yet silent pleading on those lovely eyes, recognized by him.

He wouldn't need an explanation, he had already witnessed it, the sudden rouses of personality that didn't fit you, the physical and mental discomfort you displayed, grasping your head in earlier events and the radiant glow of your eyes.

“Do you understand, my mighty General?”

But even then, you'd still be able to surprise him, attract him despite being steeled by your vague warning, and that itself was dangerous already.

“I'm starting to destest this... lack of respect, and self preservation in your words and demeano—”

“Let's... start, Lady Fu, let's not keep our guest, waiting,” such strong words, but you'd know that you've only greatly affected him, considering his guarded expression, stoic and stern, but his eyes continue to glue to yours, unidentifiable, but determined, you just don't know if it's something related a positive one or not.

'My' General, you say. He'd pause, attempting to keep composed, giving a subtle, brief squint to you while he played your those lines over and over in his head. "I could wait all the time for you,” you muse with a teasing chuckle, letting him guide you towards the platform of spheres.

Astrological symbols and starry projections, it was pleasing to the eye, but its mechanism were unbefitting of the aesthetics, knowing this enclosure is one that is enable to invade your mind, your memories and your being.

It's funny, you are to stand within something so similar to how you are, it was beautiful, primordial like, and it was also something that people didn't want to associate themselves with. Just like you.

Jing Yuan would hum, mirroring your amused expression, he could only assume what thoughts had presented themselves to you as you gaze towards the Matrix of Prescience.

Fu Xuan's emotions dive into the categories of reminiscence, nostalgia and a twinge of guarded anticipation, you being inside it bringing memories flickering, familiar imagery of cunning, allure and authority flashing your figure.

Kafka. She'd sigh heavily, now attaining suitable form, ready to dive into mysteries that settled surfaced, or deep in your mind.

“Whenever you're ready,”

Whenever they're ready. A crude internal voice slips out, causing you a slight discomfort.

Behave, I believe they have the technology to get rid of you, and they're just unaware of it.

And considering the possibility that without me, you are nothing.

What makes you, yourself—is me.

I don't mind losing you.

You let your face muscles contract into a wicked grin on your face while your head remained low, your breathing intervallic with purpode to concentrate.

I've already found another that has the means and capacity to replace your greatness, if not greater. You look up, now taking witness to the light illuminating the entirety of you, all before placing your gaze at the General that stood with anticipation next to the initiator of this conduct.

You'd give up your divine principles for a nothing but a miniscule speck of human companionship?

Why not? You bore me.

...That is only the result of you not using me to immeasurable extents, destroying a continent, for example.

There are other ways to destroy things. Your chuckle is seen, confusing the Diviner and the Arbiter General, especially one that sounded out with endearment, especially once you bit your lip to the General.

You are all the same. Mm, yes.

I never did claim to abandon my humanity in the first place, no? That's n—

“Oh Miss lovely Diviner,” you call out, shunning the other internal voice out, closing your eyes, bliss and free, despite your restraints.

“You will be dealing with three consciousness,” you open your eyes, biting your bottom lip to stifle laughter from the priceless reactions of disbelief and confusion in both their faces.

“What.” Her eyes leave whatever she was working onto the astral projection, constellations floating adrift within her hands, just like you at the current.

“What do you mean by... three consciousness?”

“Steady, you are unfocused,” you chuckle thereafter, your words only snapping her out of seconds worth of shock, denying to process her emotions of disbelief.

“It is as literal as I can get, three, individual consciousness.” You bite your bottom lip harder, cheeks puffing and just stifling to let a sound of laughter out, your circumstances amusing the General as he crossed his arms, closing his eyes while you mused her with your teasing antics.

“Me, the last successor of the power I hold currently, and the culprit of ruination that I, have mentioned prior my captivity—the lovely General would know what I'm referring to,” you glance briefly at the General, dead in the eyes, admiring him before returning your eyes to the Diviner.

“So tread with utmost care, for once you stray off from mine, you will be dealing with fifty-thousand worth of memories, all filled with inconceivable amounts of terror... and otherworldly struggles.”

The familiar silence again, not including the sounds of stars and shapes moving around you, runes, magic circles appearing and diminishing in tempos. “...Do not take me lightly,” the Diviner refocuses, her attention and concentration towards the particles of light and spacial matter before her sights, and her fingertips.

“Hmhm,” “You need not tease her,” your full attention returns to the General, giving him that coy smile that unsettles and pleases him all in one.

“You'd prefer if I do it to you instead, then?”

“...I said no such thing,” “I don't hear resistance.”

There, that color. It suits him, and he wears the hue so, so well. He'd look away, down to the ground to avoid your smug gaze, arms crossed, as if that defense would stop you from continuing your attacks. “You hold so much beauty, General.”

Says you who continues to be frustratingly magnificent and irresistible. “Focus on the ta—”

“Mm, are you talking to me, or to yourself?” The General takes a deep breath, refusing to meet your gaze, his golden irises tearing away from yours and out towards the other platforms of the Divination Commission.

How long had it been since having himself indulge in interactions such as this? Too long.

You'd expect from the Mighty Arbiter General of the Luofu to not indulge himself in things that will hinder is work, distract him from protecting the Luofu, but you'd be surprise for how long 800 years can really be.

Eons that were accompanied by friends that named themselves longing, loneliness and emptiness, and even faced with emotions he wasn't acquainted with, the emotions being satisfaction, and this warming anticipation...—

He wouldn't, he wouldn't. He would not allow himself, or rather, the Mara wouldn't allow him.

He wouldn't let the one who will enter, capture and steal his heart witness his inevitable fate, one that involved the blossoming of ginkgo leaves, painted with the scarlet red that reeks of a cruel, unhappy death, he would rather just—let no one suffer, he will protect those who need protecting.

But of five people, four had only paid the price.

And right now, the sight of you, all tied, almost vulnerable, mixing in with the memories of pleasant interactions you and him had since the encounter.

To seek out this vixen of a woman, play her games as she did with his, testing him, observing him in the same manner he would to her.

He would gladly be the last.

How could he resist? His charms, wit, intelligence, it was all mirrored by someone so cunningly attractive, not only in physical but the way you hold yourself, his reflected charms being reciprocated if not better?

It all made him feel good.

So good, and maybe, just maybe, he can finally... at least once more in his immortality, can he finally prioritize something else other than the Luofu, other than—“General! General Jing Yuan!”

Yanqing? Familiar voices snap him out of his deep trance, eyes widened, confused, alarmed at the sight that came to be. Two floating blades of ice, both horizontal to block a large scale whip, it was dark, serpent like, exuding black mists—and it retracts again, golden dust particles trailing off from the direction it had attempted to attack him.

The serpent like whip slithered, back, back and forwards again, moving—“ABOVE!” It attacks again, its speed and velocity unmatched for the ice swords the little commander, the density and strength once it clashes with four, five blades, overruling it, shattering each sword with ease.

“Watc—Tch,” The General immediately acts, lunging and taking hold of the blonde boy to move out of the way, him being caught off guard making Jing Yuan barely dodge out of the way.

“At ease, Yanqing,” Rubbles, dusts, the aftermath of the shock scathed his skin in small cuts and dust, ornamental clothes dirtied.

“S-Sorry General... I was—” The platform gives out an unpleasant noise, one that threatened its unsteadiness as it rumbles.

His balance becomes unaffected once he steels himself, strong legs now bastioned against the floor, an arm wrapped around the blonde boy's torso. “Converge, and awaken!” Strategems of constellations manifest into the reality, its canvas a circular gradient of condensed energy, illustrated as magic circle of spatial patterns.

“Lady Fu—” “In short,” her summonings had fade, rejuvenating the two and those around within the vicinity within the Matrix of Prescience of fatigue and light injuries. The Master Diviner drifts down in glittering elegance, using her omniscial abilities to avoid rubble, footing now obtained, assuming a defensive stance to the omnidirectional moving whip, eyes attentive to any and every movement.

“A memory, one of most grief, it provoked something, triggered something. One moment she was well, infuriating, and what followed af—”

Grief? “Is—Is she... safe?”

“Physically, that would be a given, but in psychological means...” She followed his automatic gaze, up towards where you were continued to reside in. You were still restrained, but there were new details no one would miss, the first of few being your struggle that showed on your face, eyes closed, teeth grinding against each other, beads of sweat trickling along your skin.

Your skin would have these cracks, dark mists with golden particles as rifts this time would be plastered vertically on one half of your face, like train tracks, down and down to your neck, to the fabric of where your chest was located. It was beaming, pulsing, bright, despite the dark mist that shrouded you whole.

A source? Plausible. He'd reaffirm his suspicions, setting down the blonde that continuously squirmed in his arms. “G-General what—”

“Retreat, all of you.” Thank you for your consent.

He referred to your warning of earlier events, to stop you in your tracks, to harm you, to end you.

“B-But—!” “If you will, Lady Fu.” She looks over her shoulder, glaring at him, mumbling 'fool' before encasing herself, Yanqing and those who were valiant in the field, all into her spherical realm of stars, disappearing from the premises of danger. “Now then,” the General resummons his glaive, light manifesting in accordance to his hand movements.

“An attempt of harm towards the Master Diviner, my Cloud Knights, Commander Yanqing, and the Arbiter General,” he bends his knees, hands gripping the length of his weapon.

“Causing public disruption, disturbance and damage within the Divination Commission,” wind pressure forms, circular and forceful around him.

And including... particular indecencies. He adds internally, sighing, blushing, the General lifts his gaze to you, to the troubled you, radiant with no peace, veiled in darkness.

“By order of one of the Seven Arbiter Generals, you are to face judgement through the Ten-Lords Commission,” he lunges, strong and with intense speed, up and above with a grunt escaping him.

“A punishable degree, possible of long time imprisonment within Shackling Pris—” he jolts, offensive form faltering the moment he sees your eyes open slowly. “Welt... Welt Yang,” you mutter, rasp and low, struggling to maintain hold in your consciousness. What? He retracts, stopping the subconscious swing he was about to do, maintaining to float as lightning crackled all over him, keeping him leveled to you.

“Th-The Sovereign...—” You're quite accommodating, keeping this man at bay for me.

The moment your eyes widened in realization to your surroundings, the sight before already had taken a drastic turn, he had barely parried the serpent-like whip with his glaive, his strength barely able to hold against the weight and thickness of the entity like weapon.

Tch. You squirm, struggling, remembering the binds that hold you in place. “General!” You hold out both arms out towards his direction, desparate, giving your wrists out to him.

He sees you from the corners of his eyes, glancing for a second before forcing his focus to the assailant that threatens his life with ease.

Without hesitation, the General uses the weight of the whip, lowering his usage of strength and himself, now using the overwhelming momentum to force it downwards, barely dodging the vertical strike by tilting his side, a sharp air following, grazing his skin.

“Quite contradicting, are you?” His admirable strength and words that followed up bring you a sense of relief, amusement afterwards, as after images of parallel strikes, vertical, horizontal, diagonal free you from your binds.

“You like it,” you don't miss the chance to tease, grinning, moving your wrists to the opposite of each other, now moving with after-image like speed. “Do I distract you that much, General?”

“You-...” Instinct, instinct, instinct. His irises dilate, now sensing, feeling a throbbing dread that put him in a stunloc—“Focus,” you say, clicking your tongue, appearing just right infront of him again.

Your reflexes act, hands moving in elegant patterns, your own abilities manifesting that familiar golden dust-like summons as each particle hardens, coming into contact with multi-shooting, razor sharp attacks, parrying them in unsettling precision.

I truly don't understand the need to protect such selfish, greedy, imperfect anthropoids.

Cease your pet, I don't like how it uses my body to fuels itself.

Hmhm, you carry me most of your life, what's the difference of another presence?

It invades and drains me continuously, in a disgusting, putrid way most possible. Unlike you.

Flattering, somewhat, but no. Sounds of cracking could be heard, but you wouldn't hesitate to reinforce, the space all around you and the General filled with aerial destruction and explosions with each attack and defense.

You multitask, sighing, a hand moving lazily, snapping your fingers to the air beneath the two of you, setting up a barrier to protect those that remain on the Divination platform, and the whole floating structure itself.

You didn't have to protect, but you did. The natural reaction—no, reflex, for you being another surprise to the General, his eyes lowered to the see through glass-like barrier, protected from debris and the individual entity that caused the mayhem in the first place.

Then again, it did still stem from you, no?

The General glances back up to you, now standing idle, strucked with disorientation, his thoughts clashing with one another, like what you were currently doing right now.

No, you were performing, this was just another day for you, another day of familiarity. Just how much did you lose, endure in order to reach this state of almost Aeon-like advancements?

How... exhausted were you despite the strength you held? Those eyes, not once have they glimmered like in earlier events as you fend off the stray that came from you, or wherever else it came from. The radiance in your eyes, dulling, bored as it dilates to every precise attack it brings you, pinpointing its contact points with precision.

Not even Phantylia reached one-tenth of your speed and summoning.

“Sorry,” you mutter under your breath, only once had the sounds of explosions cease briefly, your unexpected apology heard and snapping Jing Yuan out of his thoughts. “I'm horrible,” you add, weak and nonchalant, but that undertone of bitterness was clear. To him only anyways.

He straightens, glancing between you, and what you had graced the ether with. A blazing, field of gold, mixed with a flashing images of the thick, dark colored serpentine that continued its relentless attacks, and you were still protecting not only him, but the whole Divination Commission space.

You were one to erase stars, your history of destruction painting over the world with your own light. Only to realize, in that self-made darkness, you were left alone time after time, surrounded by the Houkai you left behind. Huh? What?

...Don't mix your cognitive fragments with mine.

As if I could help it? You click your tongue in annoyance, deciding this situation was far too unnecessary, prolonged. You raise your hand, two fingers targeting the fast moving serpent, an orb that simulated a black hole, materializing, pulsing at the tip of your middle finger, the difference to it would be the color and how it works—it being made something of purity, transparency, visible-esqué sound waves, the closest you could describe it with, silly it may sound.

Hmph, you were experimenting with me.

A warning, actually. It surges, the orb sending off towards what your other conscience had manifested in speed even you can't quite grasp.

A low buzz it emanated, it was invisible to the naked eye, but not the sharp splitting of the clouds, Jing Yuan unable to process the severity of your strength as the clouds separate in a visible, razor sharp line. It was booming once it claimed impact, and you were unphased at the sound of a high frequency sounding explosion, once the serpentine expands in a gruesome way, withered and dissolving in its next sequences of death. It was just another day for you, but you can't say the same for the General.

Even in his 800 year long longevity.

He sighs, heavy. It's over. “...And you call you self horrible, after such a commendable, otherwordly feat?” The small frown that didn't suit your face goes unnoticed, right as you safely lower yourself and the General, drifting towards safety and back to the land. Minimal damage, in your eyes, but it was still damage, one that you had caused inevitably.

“What's commendable about all this, General?”

Rubble, cracks. Disorder, panic and peril. All in deafening, hollow silence. You'd see some people in the other platforms, safe, distanced yet disoriented, and their slowly increasing panic will become so much more once they will come to a realization that someone foreign to the Luofu had caused something so terrible.

Since visitation, of this grand hexafleet, whether it was brief or not, you would notice a troubling aura in the air, and beautiful—the skies, covered in raining gold, each leaf that welcomed themselves everywhere felt malicious, and the thought of causing destruction, hidden in beauty, hidden in aesthetics, it had set something so primal within you, it sickened you, disgusted you.

Given the chance, you would want to shrivel up in agony, processing the fact that these people's higher entities, hide their indefinite strength of terror behind something, masked in something.

They hide behind their emanators, commanding them, upholding their bidding, bestow them with a piece of their strength, and give those who choose and preside their path an even smaller fragment—all for what, exactly?

Lazy, prideful, lawless and with no purpose. They make factions based on their powers, limit those who follow their path with one or a few goals, dedicated to benefitting their Aeons wishes.

A few words out of many that you would describe how Aeons are really are. Then there's you, a Herrscher, one from a world that wasn't theirs, a concept they cannot understand, but it is human nature that they will try to do so—and it was human nature to take control of what threatens their species. Unknown specimens like you.

“...The IPC, as well as the Intelligencia Guild will certainly take interest in you, Miss Herrscher,” he breaks the silence, snapping you out from your heavy thoughts. He stood beside, staring with you onto the unpleasant sight. “They already have,” you add, moving your head to his direction, meeting his eyes, eyes that held softness.

“Just like me then,” you squint, processing his words. “You look at me as if I didn't just almost destroy a bit of architecture within the faction you lead, General.” You both fight back grinning, stifling the sly corners of your lips.

“And you certainly berate yourself like you just didn't protect the Divination Commission,” you clench your fist. This was protection? You tear away from his gaze again, letting the guilt overtake your amusement instantly, viewing the destructive sight you created. “You attempted to minimize the damage with the barrier, you kept your defenses purposeful, accurate, precise,”

He turns fully towards you, taking your attention with no effort, his words casually welcoming that swelling, warm feeling inside you again.

“You haven't attacked, not once during when my soldie—when I, encountered you,” what. The said heat only creeps up, up and up, grounded all over your face, spread to your ears. He was knelt on one knee, a hand placed over his chest, and all you could do was stare and still, trying to gain control over your facial muscles.

“Only until the last second, where you claimed victor against what threatened the Luofu, attacking only once, and it wasn't against our faction,” he looks up, assuming that charming smile, shifting even more into amusement once he took witness to your cute, confused expression, painted in flustered red.

“I didn't do—” “You did more than what I could,”

It really wasn't much. You purse your lips, not expecting him to interrupt and retaliate immediately. “I don't know how many more favors the Xianzhou Alliance will continue to owe, but with defending a part of our faction,” he lowers his head, bowing down.

“The Arbiter General will personally see to it that what you have caused within the Divination Commission would be sentenced to something more... forgiving.” Oh. That was funny. The audible exhale catches his attention, now rising his head to see you smiling widely, fighting back to laugh. “I was going to say... it would be very unsettling if I were somehow left unpunished,”

He'd mirror your expression, now pushing on his knee to stand, your gaze following his height as he stood tall, ravishing, and amused to your antics. “Mm, perhaps it would also be a chance to lengthen your stay, at least for a bit longer,”

“Missing me at the thought of my departure already, General Jing Yuan?” You'd see him freeze, his breathing paused, but his eyes would not dare to leave yours. If only you knew how deeply affected he was by you addressing him with his name the first time since the entirety of this.

“...You're dangerous,” he tilts his chin up, golden irises darkening with a certain glint.

“I did warn you,” you reply in the same tone, taking a step, closing the two-hand inch gap by one, your womanly instincts having a chance to let loose as your eyes mirrors his glint, seducing, alluring, and the cherry on top being that chesire-like grin, captivating him further.

And you knew he referred not with your strength, but the way you kept him provoked, challenged, on his toes, teasing and testing this generous, fine line between professionalism and another.

Your eyes shift instantly, a reflex as you see movement from him, his hands near reaching for your wais—“THERE YOU ARE!” A high pitched voice, all so familiar, jolts the both of you in place.

“Ah, it's Mar-... Wh—”This pink fool. Your foot rotates to her direction with dark prism-like barriers, quickly materializeling and sequenced like dominos towards her direction as she takes her rough landing with an 'oomph'.

“HAhua! See Mr. Yang? I told you she'd be fast enough to catch me!” Yang? Ah. You cock your head to the side, seeing past march to see a few others following her direction, towards you.

“That—that was still reckless March,” The Vidyhadra groans disapprovingly, only to have March laughing wryly while she rubbed the back of her head. “I'll... have to agree with Dan Heng, even I couldn't have done anything if something were to go wrong.” Welt adds, moving along with Dan Heng, two twins following along behind, only for one to shove past between her twin and the Vidyhadra, running—no, sprinting with emergency towards March, tackling her.

“Mm,” the whole spectacle leaves you dumbfounded, yet nostalgic in silence, all while familiar individuals gather and move towards you and the General. You assume they were called for assistance, but Welt would already assess that everything was already over, despite the disorder.

“...Whatever it is waiting for me,” you take the chance to break off the confusion, having a limited amount of privacy with the General left.

“I wouldn't mind being imprisoned again if it means keeping myself under your gaze, my General,” you return your sly, confident gaze to him, only for that to crumble, not having enough time to react and process as he leaned towards you swiftly.

“Then,” you let him lower your guard, letting him make you feel vulnerable, small yet womanly, letting that hand of his, opposite from the nearing group, slither from your hips, up towards your waist, seducing and with purpose, gripping your curve firmly as your cheeks brush against each other.

“Shall I bring further judgement to increase your punishment, Miss Herrscher?”

reblogs boost my audience reach, thank you.

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