#once its dry i need to take some glory shots

[amimere]

ive finally gotten around to blocking my granny square shawl

the mats were almost too small so i definetly need another set, super excited to have it done tho

#my stuff #fiber art #crochet #granny squares #once its dry i need to take some glory shots #im not 100% sure they will be posted right away but if i take them now i can use my rocking chair as a prop #cant do that on campus

[morsartis]

Lucky Shot Part 2

His claws tapped a restless rhythm along the table, purple eyes flicking over towards the door to the guest room he’d had specifically refurbished for his little alien. They were sleeping, still under the effects of his chucklevoodoos, oblivious to the rage Marvus was barely restraining. He’d tossed his blood soaked jacket into the wash the sounds of his first two victims screams still ringing like a pretty chorus in his ears. 

But that still left the last violetblood. 

His insignia inlaid in the obnoxiously gold harpoon. A perfect target printed on his back. It was better than anything Marvus could have asked for. 

“Why did you use your voodoo on them?” Polypa asked as she exited the guest room, her eyes narrowed accusingly. 

“You know how lil mama be actin. If I didn’t they’d be up tryna walk it off.” He replied staring her down. Polypa stared back, the two of them not backing down as they locked eyes. 

“Don’t do it again.” Polypa finally responded as they both broke eye contact. Marvus shrugged it off.

“Is what it is.” He replied before motioning to the harpoon, “This was stickin’ out they shoulder. Figured you should help a mofo out with the last one if you catch my drift.”

“Where are they now?” She asked, sliding into the seat opposite from him.Her olive eyes were narrowed in contempt as she observed the harpoon with an assassin’s keen glare. Marvus’ glare curled sharp and twisted in reply. 

“They jus’ a lil lamb for the slaughter.” He hummed, “Don’ even know we comin’. The violet blood usually hangs out at the docks.” 

Polypa gave a grim little smirk in response. 

“Then lets pay our target a little visit.”

Your head felt like cotton as your conscious struggled to the surface, blearily opening your eyes you once more found yourself waking in Marvus’ guest room. Unfortunately, everything still ached fiercely when you awoke this time as well. Groaning groggily you slowly forced yourself to gingerly wiggle into an upright position against the frankly ridiculous amount of fluffy pillows. Who needed this many pillows? It was like a weird version of princess and the pea. Glancing around the empty room, your stomach sank at the thought that Marvus had gone to hunt down the perpetrators. Worry for your friends overrode everything else as you attempted to reach for the blankets to toss them off only to give a hoarse and breathless shout of pain as hot agony pulsated from your shoulder at the gesture. It knocked the wind from your lungs as you wheezed, eyes wide and teary. With a slam the guest room door banged off the wall with the force it was opened and there she stood in all her olive glory. 

“You’re awake!” Polypa shouted, rushing to your side in an instant. Her comforting smell of popcorn and metal filled your senses as she gingerly wrapped her arms around you. 

“What are you doing here?” You croaked, throat dry and scratchy. Polypa grabbed the glass of water by your bedside and pressed it to your lips.

“Drink slowly,” She commanded, “Marvus called me as soon as he found you.” 

Her worried gaze warmed you as you greedily gulped down the ice cold water. Breathing heavily as she pulled the cup from your lips you gave her a small smile. 

“He did?” 

“He did.” She confirmed, taking a moment to fuss with the bandages on your face. 

“Where’d he go anyways?” You asked.

“Just to toss some of his things into the wash.” She replied, her fingers trailed featherlight against your face and you leaned into the soothing touch. Pressing her head to yours Polypa sighed in relief to see you in recovery. “Don’t scare me like that again. I don’t know what I’d do if-,” Her voice choked off before she could even finish saying it and you shushed her gently as you pressed your forehead back against hers soothingly. 

“I’m here.” You murmured, “I survived, its okay. Deep breaths Polypa.” 

She sucked in a shuddering breath and wrapped her arms back around you, careful to avoid jostling your injured shoulder. With a heavy and grateful sigh you leaned into the comfort of her hold and closed your eyes. 

“I thought I lost you.” She croaked, voice raw with emotion. 

“I’m right here. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not, who’s gonna stop Tegiri from insisting we watch Troll Naruto again?”

That dragged a laugh from the both of you.

“We seriously need to find him another anime to obsess over.” 

“Yeah.” Polypa buried her face in your chest and you could feel the damp spots begin to form as she cried. Shushing her, you wrapped your uninjured arm around her shoulders and hunched over her in an imitation of a hug, gently swaying side to side as she broke down. 

“Hey, hey, its okay. It was just a lucky shot.” You murmured. “Just a lucky shot…”

#friendsim #homestuck #hiveswap #reader insert #marvus xoloto #marvus x reader #mspa reader #marvus xoloto x reader #polypa x reader #polypa goezee #polypa goezee x reader #part 2! #finally managed to squeeze something out #life just keeps happening #constantly #lol #hope you guys enjoy it! #as always my ask box is open!

[domesticloki]

Thirsty Thursday

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Description: You are trying to have a teams-conference from home. Your husband Loki however, has other plans.

Word count: 1150

Warnings: smut, teasing, teen content, implication of adult situations

A/N: After the fall of the TVA a Variant of Loki managed to survive Thanos’ attack on the Statesman. After the events of Infinity War, he met you, and finally got his happily ever after. This is a story of that ever after.

You were ready for your teams conference. Taking a sip of your coffee, you placed it on the floor next to your desk. You had learned this the hard way,- after spilling it on not one, but two laptops - because early mornings, your innate clumsiness and a cup of coffee made for a terrible combination.

You heard Loki whistling in the kitchen. He had returned from driving the kids, and was undoubtedly readying his breakfast by now. He had taken the morning off and wasn’t due for the office until noon. You tried to focus on the melody. It sounded so familiar but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

You glanced at the time. The meeting would start in 12 minutes and you were browsing through your papers, double checking that you had everything you needed, when the whistling grew closer and Loki appeared in the doorway.

“How long was your meeting again?” he whispered and you flung around in your chair.

“About an ho….ur… what?” There he was, your husband, casually leaning in, peeking through the doorway, stark naked and sporting the cheekiest grin imaginable.

“Loki, what is… what are you doing?”

“Oh this, I… I spilled something, no big deal,” he said, casually brushing his hands against his chiseled chest.With a sly look he traced one of them down his abs to finally rest on his hips, being sure to draw your eyes downwards with the movement. He knew exactly what he was doing, and you had to admit it was working. 

Flustered, you peeled your eyes from his naked form back to your papers, and to the clock that so unrelentingly ticked closer to the start of your meeting. You cleared your throat and began:

“Well, I put the laundry away yesterday so you should have a fresh suit in the upstairs closet, the dry cleaner was able to get the bolognese stain from the coller, but you really should take off your jacket before you start to… “ Loki had stepped to you and leaned over, swirling your chair to face him. His face was so very close and his musky scent filled your nostrils. He moistened his lips with his tongue. “Feed… the… “ You were having a hard time concentrating and your eyes were drawn to his lush lips. He didn’t let you finish your sentence. 

Leaning in for the kiss he pinned you against the chair and hungrily pulled your lower lip between his. Parting his own lips, his tongue darted out, moistening your lips in the process and finding your tongue, barely brushing against it, before again letting it slide back into his own mouth and his lips continued the movement, sending shivers down your spine. His lips parted from yours but he stayed, hovering over you, his face so incredibly close to yours. 

“Right… I mean,” you cleared your throat. “I have this… I have to... “ You could barely hold a thought.

“Of course you do,” Loki whispered and moved to kiss your neck despite having acknowledged your urgent work matter. You moaned and closed your eyes, enthralled by the sensation of his wet kisses along your neck. You pressed against the chair, feeling your resolve weakening by the second.

Suddenly you were returned to reality by the familiar sound of a teams call. You instantly moved to push Loki away, but in your effort to dodge his amourous engagement, you rolled your chair and backed straight into the coffee cup that spilled, flowing and staining the study floor.

“Shit… I… Loki, please,” you drew your chair forward and Loki unwillingly stood up and looked at the clumsy mess.

“I’ll take care of that, don’t worry.” You were trying to frantically find a piece of tissue, a shirt, anything to throw on the floor to soak up the coffee.

“Just answer your call, don’t worry,” he stated and disappeared into the kitchen. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you breathed while grabbing your headset and pressing the call open with your mouse. You were visibly flustered as you answered and tried to put on a professional face, while checking your image through the camera. Your background was set as the official corporate background, masking the mess around your study that was not limited to the liquid on the floor next to you.

“Hi, yes, I am here,” you answered as your boss went on to check that everyone was connected.

Loki had returned to the room, keeping his distance as he walked, to keep himself just out of the frame. The background detected slight movement, but you were happy to see that his naked form had not popped up on the screen. He bent down next to you with the set of towels and started to mop up the coffee. You tried to focus on what was being said, but suffice it to say his naked form was somewhat distracting. You found your gaze falling on his incredibly muscular shoulders and your lips parted…

Suddenly the sound of your name drew you back to the conference call. “Sorry, what was that?” you said breathlessly and cleared your throat. Your co-worker continued to expand on the question as you tried your best to hold your attention on her. 

Loki realized your flustered state and grinned. He had finished with his clean up of the floor and decided to address the tiny spec of coffee that had spilled on your leg. You were wearing your office clothes, sans stockings, and Loki started dabbing your leg, moving the rag enticingly slowly upwards to your knee. He decided to finish his cleaning by running wet soft kisses starting from your knee upwards onto your inner thigh, slightly lifting your skirt to gain access. You were positive there was no coffee there.

“Yes,” clearing your throat “I have those figure-...-es right…” clearing your throat again “here, excuse me, I seem to ha-aave something in my,” coughing “throat, so sorry about that.”

Facing the camera and smiling what was most likely a very creepy Stepford wives smile, you pushed Loki away. Had you been able to do it, you would have shot him a look that could kill. From the corner of your eye you saw him smiling mischievously as he mouthed: “I’ll be waiting for you.”

He stood up and started to walk away, and then your face shot red with embarrassment as you saw, very clearly, your husband's bare bottom flash on your screen for a fraction of a second, before it disappeared into the background. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, looking at the tiny videos on your screen, looking at your boss and co-workers and clients to try to figure out if they had seen Loki’s muscular backside in all its naked glory. 

“Yes, go on,” your boss said hurriedly. Obviously he hadn’t. Most everyone seemed busy checking the slides presented and had not noticed. But then you saw your co-worker Linda biting down on their lips, obviously trying not to smirk. Oh she was going to have a field day with this.

“Yes, “ Linda continued, “explain the big asset question and please, if you could, give ample details.” The laugh almost escaped you, but you managed to disguise it as a cough, once again collecting yourself and apologising yet again to your boss, co-workers and the clients.

Your phone buzzed on the counter, but you knew better than to check the text from Loki, which would undoubtedly be a display of some of his naked body parts. The Scorpions started playing upstairs and your face flushed with anticipation. You heard Loki singing along to the chorus.

Tease me Please me No one needs to know...

This was going to be a loooooong meating.

#loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki domestic #loki tease #loki odinson #loki laufeyson

[dr3amofagame]

I have seen a few fanfics with this premise, so now I wanna see your hands drabble with it. AU where everything is the same except nobody knows that Dream is actually the youngest member of the SMP at 14-15 years old. Bonus points, revived Wilbur figures it out and makes some plans for how to use this knowledge to his advantage.

ooh yeah !! this au is one of my favorites - it’s a really interesting examination on the mindset of different characters in the server, plus just fun for just Angst Purposes. this is a little messy but i hope you like it! 

tw: abuse, torture mentions, broken bones, branding mentions, trauma, emotional distress, unhealthy relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking, mental illness, panic attack, mentioned death, dark portrayals of ,, most of the server, prison arc/pandora’s vault 

“Hey. Thought I’d find you here.”

Wilbur turns at the familiar voice at his back, smiling.

“Dream,” he pulls him in to clap him on the back, ignoring the other’s full-body flinch at his movements. “How’ve you been, man?”

“Don’t pull that bullshit on me,” Dream’s words are biting, but he smiles as he says them - a small, bitter thing that stretches over his scarred skin. His new mask is pulled to the side of his face, exposing the dark bags beneath his grey-green eyes, the varied scars that fall over the bridge of his nose and under his jaw to trace down his neck below his collar. Wilbur watches him as he walks forward to stand by his side with a small spark of fascination, enhanced further when Dream’s eyes narrow at him. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing- nothing,” Wilbur laughs. “They just really did quite a number on you, huh?”

Dream stiffens, then rolls his eyes. “Well, he did have seventy four days, or so I’ve been told,” he quips back, words dry. “Not that there was any keeping track in that hellhole.”

“Speak for yourself,” Wilbur smiles tightly, amusement coloring his words as the other scowls. “I kep track of my thirteen years quite well.”

“Whatever you say, old man,” Dream huffs. “You have a cigarette?”

“I almost feel bad, y’know. You’re kind of underage, man,” Wilbur feels his smile widen when Dream glares up at him, eyes glinting dangerously from behind his eyelashes. “I don’t know if I should.”

“I was younger when you gave me one the first time,” Dream retorts immediately, not bothering to hide his annoyance, sharp-edged and acidic. “And even younger when you drafted child soldiers to fight in a war for your own glory. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Ouch, really know how to hit a man where it hurts, don’t you?” Wilbur mimes pressing a hand to his heart like he’s been shot with one hand, the other fishing through his jacket pocket for his pack. Dream rolls his eyes again, but stretches a hand out for him to press a cigarette and a lighter in his palm.

“Learned from the best,” Dream drawls, going quiet as he focuses on holding the end in the flame and then pulling the lit cigarette to his lips. He chokes, as he always does, on the first drag, sputtering slightly as the smoke seizes in his chest like a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit, and Wilbur watches the little flickering light at the end of the stick in his hand as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Surprised I can stand the sight of these things,” Dream says suddenly, quietly, as Wilbur pulls out one of his own to light. He looks up, meeting Wilbur’s quizzical look with a faraway one of his own. “Quackity was a fan of making me his personal ashtray.”

He reaches up towards his collar, pulling it away slightly to reveal a collection of puckered circular burn scars that dot the skin of his shoulder to trace to the edge of his collarbone. Wilbur hums in vague sympathy and acknowledgement, breathing in a drag of his cigarette slow and smooth and feeling the smoke fill his lungs.

“Guess it didn’t make the cut of torture methods bad enough to become a trigger,” he laughs, sharp, the bitter punctuation of a joke he’d realized would fall flat halfway through speaking and fidgets awkwardly with the cigarette in his hand as he looks off into the distance. “I should make a tierlist. It could be...useful.”

The words are empty - Dream wouldn’t be able to stomach torturing anyone and they both know it; Wilbur cocks his head to the side curiously, deciding to press the point anyway.

“Useful?” He takes a deliberately heavy drag, blowing the smoke out slowly from his lips and watching as Dream flinches away from it. “How so?”

Dream keeps looking stubbornly away, the only indication he’s heard at all being the way his lips press tighter together. Wilbur laughs softly.

“You mean with Big Q, don’t you?” Dream’s hand, which never seemed to stop trembling since he’d left Pandora, starts shaking harder, the smoke rising from the cigarette clutched tightly between his fingers making a jagged pattern in the air. “I won’t judge man! He tortured you for- what, 72 days?”

“74,” Dream’s shoulders rise to his ears, his head pitching forward as his arms wrap around his torso in a futile attempt to hold himself, “74 fucking days, and no one gave a single shit.”

Wilbur hums, encouraging, trying to tamp down his curiosity from making itself too obvious in his voice. Dream had been closed off for as long as Wilbur had known him, his walls only rising more after they’d pulled him out, half-starved, half-dead from the depths of the prison, newly revealed face startling young even deprived of the baby fat that would’ve otherwise lingered in its corners. For the other man to actually say something, to give more clues into his head than his usual one-word answers and bitter sarcasm - Wilbur settles in place, raising his cigarette to his lips once again. This will be interesting.

“I just-” Dream’s voice cracks, and he goes quiet, looking down at the cigarette in his hands like it’ll give him the answers he’s looking for. “I don’t understand. They’re all perfectly fine with throwing me in there and leaving me to rot, with letting Quackity come in every single day to make my life hell, but all of a sudden because I’m fifteen that changes? Because I’m a “child”? Because that makes them feel guilty?”

His grip tightens on his arm, breath seizing in his throat. “It doesn’t change a damn thing and they all know it. All of them were perfectly fine with watching me die, with sticking me in that hell, with letting Quackity- fucking-” his free hand reaches for the long tangles of his hair, the sandy locks peeking out from between his fingers, “He did- everything he could fucking think of, carved words on my goddamn back, broke every fucking bone in my body just because he could, branded his fucking NAME on me I-” he squeezes his eyes shut. “I screamed for them every single day. All seventy-fucking-four and I was still calling their names and-” Wilbur reaches towards him, watches as his head snaps away once again. “It didn’t fucking matter.”

“Dream-”

“None of it mattered. All that matters is that I’m a fucking child, that I’m fifteen fucking years old. Not that they stood by while I died twice with no means of defending myself! Not that they threw me in a fucking torture chamber! All that matters is how old I am and I fucking hate them!” He shouts, voice breaking and dissolving into a choked sob, and Wilbur watches quietly as Dream swallowed back his cries, shoulders shaking silently. “I- I hate them. All of them. At least Quackity still treats me like normal- the rest of them just look at me with this- this stupid pity, I don’t need their pity, I don’t need anything from them, not anymore-”

“Dream. Look at me.” Dream’s head snaps over, fear flashing in the backs of his eyes before it disappears as fast as it came. Wilbur ignores it, shucking off his jacket and draping it carefully over the other’s shoulders. “They’re hypocrites, I know. That’s why we’re doing this, yeah? We’re blowing it all up to kingdom come. You know how it goes.”

Dream meets his eyes, a storm warring briefly over his face before he looks down. “It was never meant to be,” he says, sounding tired, sounding resigned, and Wilbur smiles darkly at the self-same bitterness that shadows the words, recognizing the ashy taste from when they had coated his own tongue.

“Atta boy,” he says, grip firm on the other’s shoulder. “See you tomorrow. You can keep the coat for tonight; it’s getting cold.”

“Thank you,” Dream murmurs, quiet, and they both know it’s about more than just the jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

#tw abuse #tw torture #tw broken bones #tw branding #tw trauma #tw emotional distress #tw unhealthy relationship #tw unhealthy coping mechanisms #tw smoking #tw mental illness #tw panic attack #tw death #pandora's vault #prison arc #my writing :D #my asks !! #-> my writing #-> my asks #mutually assured destruction #queue <3 #long post

[hqamore]

boreal star ✵ chapter six

now, he’s pissed off. general kirigan was going to get his sun summoner and blast all of ravka to hell. he was so close to reaching his goals and no one was going to stop him.

chapter genre: action

series pairing: [past?] aleksander morozova (general kirigan) x reader

word count: 2.2k

author’s babble: surprise! so soon? i know. i cranked this chapter because i finally decided how this series would end. enjoy and tell me your thoughts!

here’s the masterlist

three days, you and mal agreed on. you procrastinated for the first two. well, not really procrastinated. you purchased some food and extra layers in balakirev the first day. the second day, you made your way to ryevost. to your misfortune, you were almost caught by aleksander and his merry band of misfits. but, his attention was stolen by teenagers? it was certainly entertaining to see the grisha get outwitted by the bunch.

you waited until you couldn’t detect them anymore. swiftly and careful to hide your face, you made your way to tsibeya on the third day. by high noon, the white forest greeted you with light snowfall. about 5km in, two huddled teens came into view. the crisp sounds of your steps alerted them, their eyes darting to you.

“[y/n]?” alina stepped in front of mal in a defensive position, light drawn at the ready. you surrendered your hands as mal lightly pushed away hers.

“alina, i told you they were coming,” he said.

with some reluctance, the sun summoner lowered her hands and eyed her. “why would baghra send you? you arrived at the palace the same time as i did.”

you smiled, ignoring her question, and strode past them, only pausing for them to follow. mal slung his sack over his shoulder and gave alina’s hand a light squeeze before jogging ahead of you. “i’ll look out for the stag. but, it’d be better for all of us if you answered her questions,” he whispered. “she’s naturally curious and very stubborn.”

you sighed and slowed your pace, matching your strides with alina’s. “baghra and i have a mutual understanding, one that precedes the importance of the second army,” you said.

alina glanced at you warily. “which is?”

“the black heretic cannot gain any more power.”

her lips pursed. “but, you arrived at the same time i did,” she quipped, “and i still can’t do much.”

you offered a dry chuckle. “i guess i picked it up that much faster.”

silence fell between you two, the crunching snow and distance chirps of birds filling the air. you took this opportunity to take in alina’s appearance. she wore ill-fitted clothing that couldn’t have been providing any warmth. her profile was worn, sunken eyes accompanied by an angry blush from the cool temperature. you shrugged your coat off, leaving you in your kefta, and draped it over her shoulders. she looked at you in surprise which made you smile softly.

with this small bridge, you spoke. “it must’ve been difficult escaping the palace without help.”

alina sheepishly smiled as she tugged the coat on, shuddering in the extra warmth. “not really. i just snuck into the trunk of a carriage and waited until it stopped.”

“you snuck into a stranger’s carriage?” you raised in an eyebrow, mirth evident in your eyes.

“not my best idea, but i’m safe now!”

you laughed at her embarrassed look, causing mal to look back. you saw as his lips quirked when his eyes met alina’s blushing face. warmth spread in your heart as you witnessed his loving gaze, almost feeling as if you were intruding on a secret conversation. you peered at alina who just returned mal’s stare with a blinding smile native only to one alina starkov. you envied their relationship, wordlessly intimate and completely trusting. sadness stirred at the bottom of your heart, memories of hushed giggles and longing gazes bubbling. 

all lies, it was.

—

the sun was setting and, luckily, the three of you had already arrived where mal had last seen the stag. mal said he doubted that the stag moved on, leaving you guys to wait around.

brushing some snow off of a log, you sat and hugged your knees closer to conserve some warmth. alina and mal joined you, leaning into each other to share their body heat.

“when we find the stag, i need to be the one to kill it,” alina grimly stated.

mal looked down at her. “you’re a terrible shot. they made you a cartographer for a reason.”

you snickered as alina feigned offense and mal grinned unapologetically. “besides, i thought we weren’t killing it,” the tracker said, glancing at you. alina’s forehead scrunched in confusion when she turned to you.

a puff of fog appeared as you let out a sigh. “we’re not. unless absolutely necessary.”

“if we don’t, kiri—”

“i have a plan, alina,” you interrupted. “all we need to do is guide the stag away. with a combination of your abilities and mine, it’ll be fairly easy.”

“that won’t stop him from finding it,” alina protested.

you gently placed a hand on alina’s head. “that’s why, once we get it out of fjerdan territory, i’m taking it to the wandering isle. the distance will prevent aleksander from coming for it personally and give me more time to work out a permanent solution.”

she stayed silent for a moment, mulling over your plan, before she frowned. “aleksander.”

your head tilted questioningly when her body faced you, a serious look on her face. “how do you know his name?” she asked.

sucking in a deep breath, you realized you had relaxed too soon. her sharp eyes trained on you as you rubbed your face. mal remained confused, leaning forward to observe the two of you.

“it’s difficult not to know the name of your warden,” you replied.

“warden?”

you debated whether or not to tell alina the complete truth, but you threw caution into the wind and exhaled. “my arrival at the palace was not the first time i had been there. some time ago, i actually called that place home. but, one day, i woke up from the false reality and escaped from the place that was, retrospectively, my prison.”

too intelligent, alina connected the dots in record time. “you’re the lover the servants talked about,” she said breathily. “the person baghra thought would change him.”

a bitter smile danced on your lips. “i’m not sure if he loved me as i did him, but i would’ve hung the stars if he asked me to.”

alina clasped your hand in hers, offering a weak smile. you returned it before continuing. “i met him about four-hundred years ago, when he was hiding from the crown. i was young and enchanted. i believed in everything he wanted for grisha and became his willing accomplice.

“when he returned to the palace, i followed. when he locked me in my room, i complied. as naive as i was, i was in love,” you paused to glance at the pair in front of you, reminded of their small moments that paralleled your memories.

“i was in love...” you trailed, staring at your lap as your chest panged dully. you shook yourself out of your daze and cleared your throat. “no matter, i saw him for the crazed tyrant he was and, when i found out you had been discovered, i returned to thwart his plans.”

faint rustling drew mal’s attention away, the tracker slowly stepping towards the source. alina’s eyes followed him as did yours. after a few seconds, he turned. “that way.”

like meerkats, you and alina shot up and crept beside mal. his eyes darted around the clearing you were approaching and, there in all its glory, was the stag. the three of you stopped at a safe distance when it turned to look in your direction.

you started laying out the plan. “okay. alina, you need to—”

“wait,” alina said, stepping forward, with her eyes trained on the stag. “i— i’ve been seeing it in these visions ever since i arrived at the palace. i don’t know why, but i think it’s been trying to reach out to me.”

then, the stag walked towards alina who took several more steps. she gingerly reached her hand out and the stag met her with its snout. light erupted from them and alina let out soft laughs, basking in the warmth of the light. you softly gasped at the sight. it chose—

suddenly, an arrow shot the stag, causing it to lurch away from alina in pain. she tumbled backwards as people rushed in from all sides. mal raised his gun and shot at the bowman, knocking him down. he swiftly notched an arrow in his bow, prepared to shoot the stag, when a strong wind forced it out of his hand. you turned and was faced with a familiar-looking squaller. you loosened gravity’s hold on her and forced her to float. when you were about to fling her away, a grunt sounded behind you.

“mal!”

your focus disappeared; you pivoted to see mal embedded with an arrow, effectively dropping zoya and incapacitating her. you went to help him when an intense pressure hit your chest, your heart beating erratically. it forced you onto your knees next to mal. your heart was pounding in your ear before it stopped.

bright flashes threw off the heartrender and bowman. you greedily breathed in air as alina darted to mal. you could hear the snap of the arrow followed by mal’s agonizing scream. glancing up, your vision slightly blurred, you saw shadows gathering behind you. at the sound of a billowing cloak, you rushed to create a gravitational downforce around you, not allowing anyone to move. you slowly stood up, facing aleksander with a glare.

he let out a haughty laugh. “i should’ve known you would be with her.”

“alina, i need you to get to the stag,” you commanded.

“but, mal! he’s— he’s dying!”

you glanced behind you to see her applying pressure on his wounds. thoughts raced in your mind before settling on one solution. “i promise you he won’t so long as you follow my instructions.”

desperation evident in her eyes, alina could only nod.

“get to the stag and shield us on my count.”

you inhaled deeply. “3, 2, 1!”

alina ran for the stag and created a barrier. you dove under it before it separated you from the others. outside of it, aleksander found himself free to move. creeping closer, he called out. “you can’t save them, alina. you may have the power of light but not the power to heal.”

alina’s resolve wavered as her eyes flicker to mal. “don’t listen to him, alina! i promised you, didn’t i?” you reassured.

alina bit her lip as she kept up the barrier. you made mal float and pulled him closer to the stag. you gently set him down and reached for the stag. it groaned and flailed in protest.

“i know i’m not your chosen, but please. i must heal him and then i can heal you,” you whispered.

the stag quieted and allowed you to touch it. with one hand on the stag, you hovered the other near mal’s wound.

“i’m sorry, mal, but this is gonna hurt like hell.”

you manipulated time on his body. blood slowly returned to the wound whilst the arrow pieced itself together, ripping itself out of him afterwards. mal let out a painful howl before the wound stitches itself back together, like no arrow had been there in the first place. as he recovered, you quickly moved around to the other side of the stag.

“i see you’ve been busy,” aleksander said sharply.

rage gathered in the pit of your stomach when you shot a glare at aleksander. “and you’ve been a complete fool. after all this time, you still can’t get it through your thick skull that morozova’s amplifiers have to choose you,” you spat.

you returned your attention to the stag’s wound. you murmured an apology before you worked on it. it whined through the pain but stilled once you finished. your hands trembled as you shakily pushed yourself off the ground. the stag stirred and stood on its legs, causing alina to follow in suit. you ran your hand through its fur and whispered. “just once more, friend.”

as if it reads your mind, it knelt before alina. you looked at her, mal now standing beside her.

“you two, get on.”

alina gave you a bewildered look. you returned it with a pleading one. without protest, she and mal both mounted the stag. then, it rose, looking towards you. you leaned your forehead against its snout. “take them far from here.”

you stepped to the side and took alina’s hand. “now, i only have so much energy left to keep them here. so, ride fast.”

“what? you’re not coming with us?” alina’s jaw dropped.

you offered her a melancholic smile. “please, if i have to witness anymore of your loving gazes, i’ll become a bitter spinster,” you teased before growing serious. “alina, keep the shield up until you’ve left fjerdan territory. only make it as big as it has to be. mal, you’re going to have to make sure she doesn’t fall off.”

you let go of her hand and gave mal a nod. inching away from them, you approached the center of the field, barely covered by alina’s light. you glanced back and jerked your head, signaling them to leave. you immobilized aleksander and his men once more, allowing alina and mal to slip through and disappear into the winter night. despite your raging headache, you kept your focus until you couldn’t see the light. you collapsed, the snow cushioning your fall. your vision blurred as you heard footsteps approach you.

“we’ll find them eventually.”

you squinted at your former lover. “no, i don’t think you will, aleks.”

aleksander crouched down and whispered in your ear. “i should kill you where you lay.”

“be my guest. you are well within your rights, general kirigan,” you taunted.

he sneered. “out of respect for our past, i won’t. but, you will be my prisoner.”

“what’s new?” you asked before promptly passing out.

taglist (couldn’t tag the ones in bold): @kykymyeon @shelivesindaydreamswme @blackbirddaredevil23 @amortentiaaaa @safetyhtom @savannah-elliott @deceivedeer @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @sarcastic-and-cool @supersouthy @let-love-bleeds-red @andwhatofthelight @all-art-is-quite-useless​ @mixed-imagination​ @ashdab2611​ @aria-grace-scott​ @multifandom-addict​ @aleksanderwh0r3​ @p3nny4urth0ught5​ @kirigansgf​ @evyiione​ @theoutsidelandhere​ @wizardwheezes​ @partiesandblurrypolaroids​ @pansysgirlfriend​ @takethee​ @imrann123456 @rachellovesharry

author’s babble pt.2: ohoho! can you believe they did that? now, you may be wondering why [y/n] is able to manipulate time. it has to do with spacetime being 4 dimensional and the complexity that comes with the concept of gravity. a bit wibbly wobbly timey wimey (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

continue to chapter seven? yes

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #grishaverse fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #boreal star

[sableseb]

Illusion

Jack Benjamin x escort!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: allusions to homophobia, sex work, smut, rough & quick, spanking, exhibitionism, dirty talk, degradation

The events that have unfolded in the past couple of days lay scattered in Jack’s mind. He paces the expanse of his lavish quarters thinking of how his life went to shit this fast. His mother and father know. They know how he craves the touch of a man. His father told him to hide it, hide the feelings he has and never let them resurface. His mother slapped him for saying he loved another man. He pushed his secret lover away for the sake of his reputation. Now, the whole court is questioning him, hanging his sexuality over his head in case they ever need to bring him down.

His parents explicitly stated that to be King, he must put away his sinful, lust fueled desires for the same sex. This kingdom his father built is based on the Christian faith and what sort of God fearing kingdom would want a King that kisses men? What a joke. It always leaves a bad taste in his mouth and a sick feeling of not being accepted in his stomach.

As Jack looks out of his bedroom window to the twinkling night life below, he makes a decision. To him, being King is above his true feelings. He’ll follow his parents wishes like the good little soldier he always is. He’ll keep up his playboy, panty dropper act for the sake of the crown resting atop of his head one day.

They want a ladies man? They’ll get one, they’ll see he’s worthy of the crown. He may prefer sleeping with men, but that doesn’t mean he has a disdain for the feeling of a cock drunk broad wrapped around him. And luckily for him, his suave attitude and pretty boy face works like a charm each time he needs a quick fuck.

He knows of a night club that’s crawling with bachelors, married men, and even women looking for a good time, with their night ending by taking one of the ladies who work there home and finding pleasure in between the sheets.

Jack pulls out his cell and taps the first number in his contacts. He bites his nails on the hand currently occupying the phone in anticipation for what he has planned tonight. It’s sure to get everyone off his dick.

It rings for a beat before a, “Hello?” cracks through the speaker. 

“Louis? It’s Jack. I’m going out tonight. Make sure all the paparazzi knows. Tell them I’ll be at Pyre.” he says hastily while going around his room searching for his coat.

The line is silent for a moment. Louis knows not to question Jack’s requests when he gets that oddly, erratic tone in his voice. Without a second thought Louis says, “I don’t know what you’re up to, but be careful.”

Jack ends the call and makes his way out of the castle down to the city goers below. There’s a slight chill in the air that goes unnoticed by the people in barely there clothing looking for their next party spot. He brushes through the crowds to his desired destination. Bright, neon colors light up the whole block and to his right, he sees it. Sultry, red cursive lettering spelling out, “Pyre.”

He’s met with flashing cameras and yelling at the front entrance of the club. Good to know Louis is still a worthy asset. He flashes that pearly, white smile that borders boyish charm and slyness. The King and Queen’s son is always a hot topic in the press. And he’s sure that after tonight, he’ll be a hot topic nationwide.

As he steps through the club’s threshold, he’s met with darkness and thumping music. The only source of light coming from the strobes that bounce across the sweat soaked bodies grinding against one another. 

He starts to assess the women and sees you. Clad in a silver dress that falls just below that round ass and heels that accentuate those long legs leaning against the bar stool. You’re perfect. Perfect enough for him to already sport a hard on. 

He makes his way to you with a certain air of confidence that only he seems to possess. He comes up beside you and leans into your ear to, rather loudly, say over the bass, “The name’s Jack. And I’d really love to have some company tonight.”

You turn to face the man that made his presence known and take him in. Oh, so the prince is the one who needs a good fucking. You’d be lying if you said that this moment in time didn’t give you an ego trip. You’ve always thought about what it would be like to press your lips to his perfect pout and stare into those baby blues as he takes you apart ever since he graced the cover of VOGUE.

You smirk into your drink. “I know a prince when I see one, Mr. Benjamin.” 

He figured as much you’d recognize him. All the kingdom knows of him and his risque reputation. 

“Then, I’m guessing you won’t deny a prince of his request? I pay handsomely.” he states matter of factually.

He honestly didn’t have to pay you to do anything he desires. You’d have dropped on your knees in the middle of this club if that’s what he wanted. And little did you know, that’s close to what he needed your assistance for in the first place.

With a hefty transaction and a few drinks, you’re walking arm in arm with Jack to the hotel he rented a room in. You feel like a celebrity. A devilishly handsome man on your right, paparazzi on your left, and thousands in cash sitting nice and pretty in your purse. You just hope he’s a decent lay. You haven’t had one of those in awhile. Most of the men you’ve worked with didn’t even make you cum, always left you high and dry. But, the cash they guaranteed was worth the disappointment.

He walks up to the lobby desk and asks for his key card. As the lobbyist searches for the correct one labeled “Benjamin” your gaze drifts. This place is nice to say the least. It’s sleek and mature. A complete contrast to the man next you with his bright eyes and plush face.

After acquiring the card that’ll seal your fate for a one night stand, you both make your way to the elevator. You decide to make the first move once the doors close. Your sexual attraction getting the best of you. As the numbers ticked up, you turn to face the Adonis. You fist his jacket between your hands to pull him in close and whisper low in his ear, “Ya know, Jack,” you let your lips graze his ear with each word you speak, “I really hope you live up to that title you carry.”

Your hand rubs down, starting at his chest and snaking its way down his toned stomach to cup his dick through his pants. Jack’s breath hitches as you languidly palm him. Little shocks of pleasure spike across his spine. He’s a bit taken back from this forwardness you possess. No one ever showed a dominant side with him. He’s the one always in control. And he’s keeping it that way.

He runs his large hands along your curves causing you to lean into him even more before he takes your hand off him and retches your arm back. You’re spun around with such force that your mouth hangs open in shock. He roughly pulls you against him, trapping your aching arm between your back and his firm body. 

“Listen real close, baby.” he spits, words laced with venom. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m the one in charge. So, be a good little whore and keep it in your panties until we get to the room.”

The elevator dings and he lets you go, only to grab your hand and practically drag you to the suite. You take note of the wetness that’s pooled in the flimsy fabric between your legs from the little altercation. This little playboy has a rough side, and you can’t wait to see just how rough he can get.

His slender, ringed fingers put the key card to the scanner until the light turns green and you're swept away into the most luxurious room you’ve ever stepped foot in. Dull lights make the blue hues and black tones even that much more alluring. A giant mirror hangs above a bed fit for a prince and the large windows show the city in all its glory. 

Jack stalks over towards the window sitting in the middle of the large room. He sees men with cameras still mingling about below trying to get some shots of him and his latest conquest. He’ll give these sleazy excuses of people the shots they desire and more.

You shed your coat and purse before making your way towards the hulking figure near the window. You can tell something plagues his mind. It’s not hard to sense when he looks like a lost puppy in the moon’s hue. 

He glances at you as he moves to stand behind you. He pulls you in close by your waist and brushes your hair away from your neck. His fingers are so feather like you almost couldn’t register them. His lips though, you can feel them just fine as they pepper kisses and bites along your neck.

“City’s beautiful isn’t it?” he asks in between his sucking and biting. Creating little patch works of art across the expanse of your skin.

You’re in a trance and all you can do is hum in agreement. The feeling of his hands groping the soft flesh of your hips and his lips dragging along the base of your neck has you silently enjoying the attention. The only sounds coming from you are whimpers and breathy moans.

It’s a symphony to Jack’s ears. He finds your sounds more beautiful than anything Haydn conducted. He may just want sex, but he knows how to appreciate the beauty he finds in the people he beds. He might be an asshole, but he’s an asshole with a taste for the human form.

He places your hands against the window and kicks your legs apart. “What’re you doing?” you ask in slight concern. 

As he’s making quick work of discarding his clothes he simply states, “I’m going to fuck you while the city watches.”

What? You couldn’t have heard him right. There’s people down there that could easily see, there’s a million dollar mattress made for a rough fucking. A window is not what you wanted. But, what you want doesn’t matter in your profession and it certainly doesn’t matter to the prince as he pushes his naked body against your clothed one, trapping you against the cold glass.

He hikes your dress up past your hips and stares at the pretty lace thong sitting between your full ass. He grabs at the flesh, pawing and kneading before landing a harsh slap. You jerk against the glass and you feel the sting go straight to your core. 

The cool metal of his rings soothe over the places he strikes, easing the burn. His cock is leaking at the site of you spread out for him and the whole world to see.

“You see all the cameras below us, baby?” he asks while rutting his aching member against you. You can feel his precum sticking to your skin. He reaches around your body and pulls your breasts from the confines of the sparkling material of your dress. He starts treating your chest like he did your ass just moments ago. His rings catch your nipple with each grope of your chest making you mewl and arch back against him.

“Make sure to smile pretty, cause you’re going to show them how good I fuck this cunt.”

He rips your panties down your legs and stands between them. You’re soaked for him. And the thought of people watching as he uses you makes you even more wet. You feel him rub his dick through your sticky folds. He bumps your clit a few times and your legs shake with each pass of his bulbous tip against your bundle of nerves. 

He slowly pushes in. Your walls welcome him as he bottoms out with ease and you're both letting out pleasured groans. “Oh, fuck.” you gasp. The feeling of his thick cock resting inside you makes your eyes roll in the back of your head. He’s almost hurting you with his size. And so, you try to scoot up a bit to relieve the ache he’s creating.

He grabs your throat, jerking you back up to him. You let out a pained cry. You’re trying to adjust, truly, but he isn’t helping you. 

“Nuh uh.” he growls. “You’re going to take what I give you, slut.”

The bit of gentleness he showed you was just the calm before the storm. He forces your face against the window and starts to thrust in and out. His pace is hard and rough. His grip on your scalp helps with leverage. He knows you’re enjoying the stroke of his dick with the screams you let out and the way your pussy is pulsing around him. 

“God, how is a whore this tight?”  he leans in towards your face, taking in the sickly sweet fragrance you adorn and pants against your neck, “You like being watched don’t you, my dirty girl? I know you do because this,” he lands a smack against your pulsing cunt, “is milking me.”

You let the degrading words help you towards your climax. He’s hitting that spot inside you just right. His balls are hitting your clit with each sharp snap of his hips and it’s all too much. You can barely hold yourself up, the only anchor you have is his firm hold across your stomach. 

You both notice the flash of the cameras going off, but it doesn't faze you, you both love it. It makes both of your senses heightened. The thought of these pictures plastered on every magazine and news station has Jack gripping your hair even harder and driving into with such force you fear the glass may crack.

“Jack,” you cry. “Oh, fuck right there. Harder.”

He slaps a hand over your mouth to silence your pleas. “Shut up, bitch.” 

He forces your head back and the new angle your body creates has tears welling up in your eyes. The pleasure he’s giving you is borderline painful. But, his tight grip across your mouth and the delicious force of his dick has you wanting more.

 Jack can tell you’re getting close because it’s getting harder to pull out of your tightness. He takes his hand that's in your hair and braces it against your hip, making you fuck yourself against him. 

“You wanna cum, baby? Go ahead. Show em’ how this cunt swallows me up.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. You scream behind the palm of his hand. You can’t seem to catch your breath, your lungs ache from the air he’s keeping you from. You’re practically lifeless as he fucks up into you, chasing his own release. 

“Shit...” he gasps. The vice-like grip you have on him has him snapping his hips against you faster. Jack feels his lower stomach tighten and his balls constrict before he pulls out and finishes on your lower back, just below the bunched up fabric. He takes a moment to admire the mess he created on you. He’s sure his plan of fucking a woman so openly will diminish any doubts about him and who he beds. 

He pulls on his underwear and makes his way to the bar occupying the corner of the room to make himself a drink. You take a moment to catch your breath and drag your body from the condensed window pain. Your hair is wild, makeup smeared, and you have cum stuck to your thighs and back. You feel more used than usual. But, this prick just gave you the best orgasm of your life and you’d do it all over again.

You straighten yourself up as much as you can before turning around and being met with a steely, blue gaze. “Congrats, sweetheart.” he smirks, taking a drink from whatever concoction he created, smacking his lips. “You’re a star.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #jack benjamin #jack benjamin smut #jack benjamin x reader #kings

[anonquack]

| Take Care |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 3501

Warnings: None, a little bit angsty. This takes place in the past !! so technology is not necessarily available yk?

Summary: Being with Alex means sneaking out, it means risking getting caught, it means, lying to your parents.. but it's worth it in both of your eyes. After getting caught, you two must find a way to keep in touch and keep the relationship thriving.

You'd been staring out the window for what felt like hours now. Watching as the dark blues morphed into oranges and light blues. The idea of being able to see him soon kept you up the whole night. Last you'd seen him had been about 3 days ago, before he told you he'd be off at his grandparent's house, and wouldn't be back until the weekend.

That's why you watched the sunrise with such urgency. As soon as there was light outside, it meant he was back home. It meant seeing him again.

The bright light that slowly infiltrated your room brought a light sting to your eyes. Perhaps staying up late enough to see the sun rise wasn't the best idea, but there was no other way to calm your nerves.

As the sun found its place in the sky, and the sound of nearby roosters filled your ears, you couldn't help but feel tingles throughout your whole body. The clock was ticking, and it was ticking fast. You'd get to see him before you knew it.

Once you deemed it a reasonable time to be out of bed, you got up and headed to the kitchen in search of something to eat. Something to truly help get the day started.

The food you served yourself wasn't even properly enjoyed, far too focused on what you'd wear once you headed back up to your room. How you'd dress yourself in preparation for seeing him again after what felt like an eternity.

After breakfast and a quick look through your closet, you found yourself patting and dusting yourself off to ensure you looked presentable, pleasant to the eye. One look in the mirror and you deemed yourself ready to head out and towards where you and Alex usually met.

On your way to the front door, a loud voice demanded your attention, asking where you were off to in such a hurry. You excused yourself, telling them you were on your way to meet a friend. And yes, you'd eaten breakfast already. After a quick nod of approval, you were on your way out of the house.

-

You didn't think you'd ever speed walked somewhere as fast as you'd done just now. Urgency in each of your steps, eagerness pouring out of you with each exhale.

But the tree was empty. He was nowhere in sight. Perhaps you'd gotten here too fast, eagerness leading to you being too early. That made sense.

Taking a seat on the grass, you waited patiently to see if he'd show up. Of course he would. Meeting up at this tree had become your thing. If he ever needed to find you, he'd find you here. Vice versa.

It didn't take long before he appeared before you, in all his glory. Your eyes scanned him shamelessly. You'd missed the sight of him. And it had only been three days.

Clean slacks, suspenders resting nicely on top of his white button-up shirt. The three buttons left undone at the top allowed his collarbones to be on display, even if just a little. It also exposed his honey-like skin to the world. And his shoes, slightly dirty from the dirt path he'd taken to get to where you two found yourselves now.

Truly a sight to behold. You stood to your feet, smile growing instantly. He smiled back before you found yourself engulfed by his arms, head tucked neatly under his chin.

"How was the visit?" You finally asked after minutes of staying in the embrace. He began to tell you, later slipping into different conversation.

"I missed you." He mumbled into your hair, to which you responded by nuzzling your face into his chest.

He was leaning against the tree with you placed between his legs, back resting on his chest. His fingers moved slowly against your hair, and you worried sleep would finally catch up with you after staying up all night.

"How'd you manage to come out here?" He asked, sending a smile your way and breaking you out of the relaxing trance his fingers had left you in.

You couldn't help but smile back before shrugging slightly. "Just told them I had to meet with a friend."

"Lying to your parents, hm?" He raised an eyebrow, making a small 'tch' sound and shaking his head. "What if they find out?"

Your body visibly stiffened at that. "They won't, unless you tell them." You carefully positioned yourself so you were sitting facing him now. Perhaps your tone came out more serious than you'd intended, considering the conflicted look that now rested on his face.

"Why can't we just tell them we're together?" His tone was telling of how he felt. Exasperated, tired of hiding. You wanted to laugh at how insane the idea sounded, but his face told you it wouldn't be appropriate. He was serious.

"You know how they'll get." You stated softly, reaching for his hands and gently beginning to play with his fingers.

He bit the inside of his cheek, not moving his hand away, but clearly still upset.

You hated this as much as he did. Having to sneak around just to see him, lying to your parents about your whereabouts, it was all so tiresome. But it was necessary.

Your parents had freaked out at the idea of you two even being FRIENDS. You imagined they'd die of a heart attack or send you off if they ever found out.

Once you two had clearly understood that your parents weren't fond of it, he offered to meet at his place instead.

Turns out his parents weren't very fond of you either, and you never went back. It simply wasn't working out, but neither of you were willing to put an end to the relationship.

And that's how you ended up here. Lying to parents, meeting up at a tree, hands entangled and gentle whispers of the near future where you'd be able to be together, without any worries.

Even if seeing his pouty face broke your heart, you knew you couldn't tell your parents, or vice versa. It wouldn't end your problems, but rather create more. He didn't seem to understand that though, and it led to these conversations every single time.

"Soon." You stated firmly, hands moving to cup his face and leave a small kiss on his cheek. "I promise."

-

Although the reality that your relationship was forbidden hung over your heads daily, you both still tried to enjoy your time together as best as you could. And yes, that meant dates.

He'd come up with the idea of painting together, and you couldn't really refuse after seeing how proud of himself he was. He'd suggested you two meet by the tree with paint supplies and some extra cash for an ice cream cone or a snack after. It seemed perfect.

When the day came, you found yourself seated by him with your fresh canvas and the small containers of paint located beside you two, small brushes ready to do as your hand commanded.

The paintings had started off fairly well, him drawing what seemed like a street in town with people passing by and a pretty sky on display.

"Is that where we got our ice cream?" You asked curiously as you stared at his painting. It felt oddly familiar and warm. It amazed you how well his art was able to portray and give off such emotions.

He smiled and nodded. "That street is really pretty, so colorful." He explained, setting his brush down momentarily. "Plus, I have a lot of good memories there."

You smiled back, "Me too. It looks so pretty, Alex." You reached over to gently squish his cheek, which only made him let out a laugh before he began to question you about your own art.

After some time, both paintings were set aside to dry and you two were left with one blank canvas and an abundance of red paint. It'd been the least used in both of your creations.

You both looked at each other, and you instantly recognized that mischievous look in his eyes. "What‐?" You asked, to which he only smirked before pointing at the canvas.

"Well, we wouldn't want the canvas to go to waste.. right?" He received no response beside your wary stare. "How about we paint our hands red and put them on there? Wouldn't that be cute? We could add our little signatures on it as well."

The idea was extremely incriminating. Red paint. A canvas that had BOTH of your names on it? It was never a good idea. But he had his ways of getting others to say yes.

"If you're worried about getting caught, we can wash our hands really good to get it off. And one of us can hide the canvas in our rooms." He was so convincing, and he looked so so cute.

"Fine. But we can't wait around too long or else the paint will dry! So let's hurry." You finally responded, to which he let out a celebratory yell before coming closer and grabbing the red paint and pouring it onto his hand carefully. You did the same, and soon both of your hands were plastered onto the canvas.

It was cute, just like he'd said, and it was even cuter once he'd lazily written his name and yours under the handprints. You couldn't help but stare as he focused on adding a small little heart between the two handprints, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

Once he was done, he sat up properly and shot you a smile, to which you responded by impulsively pulling him in close for a kiss. He responded almost immediately, arms carefully wrapping around your waist as to not leave paint on your clothes. You'd done the same once you gently wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

Every single date you two went on only solidified your feelings for him, and made them so much stronger. He was lovely, full of ideas, and so kind. He was perfect, but your parents would never see that. You pulled away from the kiss, only for him to pull you back in after letting you both breathe. No complaints from your part.

But definitely from your parents. You both heard a loud gasp, which had you pulling away from him within seconds. To your demise, your parents were both stood a few feet away with shock and disappointment plastered on their faces.

You both stumbled onto your feet, the words failing to leave your mouth as you tried to explain what they'd just witnessed. You felt lightheaded. How was any of this real?

"You know, the neighbor told me you'd been snooping around with a nobody, but I never took them seriously. I trusted you knew better." They spat angrily.

It suddenly made sense. The stares from the neighbor everytime you left the house and sneakily made your way to the tree. Or when he'd 'carefully' come drop you off at your house after being out all day, hidden by the night sky. Or so you two thought.

You felt numb, unable to create any sort of excuse as to why you were with him. Saying you two were friends wouldn't work, considering they'd walked in on you two kissing. And the canvas that lay between you two with handprints, signatures and hearts. There was no fixing this.

"We were going to tell you, but we knew you wouldn't approve." You finally mustered up, voice trembling in fear of the consequences. Alex was frozen in shock as well beside you.

"You've completely lost my trust." One of them said, shaking their head before looking directly at you, as if giving him a single glance would kill them. "I don't want you near this young man again, do you hear me?"

He looked hurt, but most of all he looked angry. Angry that they wouldn't just let you two be. Who were you hurting by being together?

"Not as long as they live under my roof. Now let's go." They stated just as firmly, a strong grip on your wrist and pulling you towards home, daring him and you to deceive either of them. You two were fighting a losing battle.

"They have every right to make their own decisions." He tried to state firmly, but the slight tremble in his voice was too noticeable.

"Wait. At least let me say goodbye." You pleaded, knowing they wouldn't hesitate to send you away as soon as you got home.

They let go of your wrist and you made your way over to him. You couldn't help it as the tears began to well up in your eyes. This was exactly what you feared, and it had come true.

"I guess we got caught.. red-handed." He stated after a moment of silence. His comment took you by surprise, and you couldn't help but laugh at his ability to crack a joke no matter the situation.

The tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes became more noticeable the closer you got, frown etched onto his beautiful face. Unacceptable, really.

Your eyes fell down to both of your hands that had red splotches all over them, along with the accidental red drops all over some of your clothing. "I guess we did." You finally responded. Red hand reaching for his. "I love you so much, okay? This isn't the last you're seeing of me."

"I wouldn't allow that anyway. I'm not giving up on you." He whispered back, knowing there was curious ears nearby. It was a promise neither of you would break.

Even if you were getting pulled away after too long of a goodbye. Even if the canvases were left forgotten on the grass to dry. Even if it was prohibited.

No matter what.

-

It had gone just as you thought. You were prohibited of meeting with him, and stripped from multiple other privileges. It made no sense why they cared so much, but they did.

A promise was a promise though, and you'd managed to sneak out a few times to see him during the first few months. Each second of the meeting was bittersweet, a reminder that the moment would end sooner than later constantly there. On edge of who was nearby or if anyone had spotted you two. Horrible.

After a few of those, they'd gotten stricter, and it was harder to leave the house. It led to you resorting to writing letters. It was the only other form of communication. The house phone was an absolute no, far too risky. So you often found yourself in your room, writing letters to him about missing him and how it didn't feel the same without him around.

Everytime the mail came, you were the first to receive it. Looking for any letters from him. Taking it before any curious eyes could notice your eagerness to check the mail.

Your days were spent in bed, reading and re-reading the letters he had sent. Waiting for the next to come in the mail. It made you yearn for his company, his touch, him. The days passed with only letters from him and your own memory to remind you what he was like.

It was painful being away from him, and you couldn't really remember exactly how long it'd been since you last saw him, but one thing kept you sane. Kept you from losing faith of seeing him again. It was the promise you two had made the night your parents found out.

He wasn't going to give up on you, and you surely wouldn't give up on him either. Even if it'd been months since you last saw him. Many repetitive months of writing letters, busting missions just to get to them before your parents did, and spending your time daydreaming about him.

It would all work out in the end. It had to. You'd both make it work.

No matter what.

-

You really didn't know how long it'd been at this point, since you'd last seen him. But you knew exactly when the letters stopped coming.

It'd been exactly 6 weeks and 4 days since the last letter of his came in the mail. You'd sent one back not too long after, but he hadn't returned one to this day. Usually his letters came 3 days later, the latest.

You couldn't help it whenever your mind wandered to the possibilities of why the letters stopped coming. Every sick idea that entered your mind seemed possible. It'd been far too long since you'd last seen him.

You had no way of knowing if he was healthy and thriving, if he'd gotten sick recently, or if his parents had found out about the letters. Even worse, if he had moved on by now.

It made you sick to your stomach just thinking of it all. Had you done something to upset him? Maybe you were bitching too much in your letters and he'd grown tired of you. Maybe the tone of your words were far too longing for him.

You had no way of knowing. No way of confirming your thoughts.

No matter how many weeks passed, you desperately clung onto the hope that a letter would come. Surely, eventually, and it would explain his absence. It would come if you believed hard enough.

But 6 weeks became 10, and then it became 15. 15 weeks without him, without any response. No knowledge of his whereabouts or well-being.

"What about the promise we made each other?" Is something you'd asked yourself frequently over the last 15 weeks, but no answer. At least not one you wanted to hear or even acknowledge.

You sat at your desk now, fresh sheet of paper ready next to your pen. You couldn't keep living like this. In suspense and longing.

The guilt was eating at you as you wrote 'Dear Alex,' onto the page, but the reminder that he was the one that hadn't written back helped ease the growing pain in your chest.

He hadn't kept his promise. He'd broken it after 15 weeks of not responding. You'd waited around for so long, but who knows if he'd moved on and left you behind, or whatever else could've happened.

Your hand froze, gently biting at the inside of your cheek, too scared to truly put an end to this. But it was necessary. It's what you needed in order to be able to breathe properly again, to sleep well at night, to stop the ache in your chest.

The times you'd been out in town with your parents, there was no sight of him. You'd visited the tree a few times since the last letter came in, and nothing.

You had to let him go, just as he had let you go.

'I don't know what happened to cause you to stop writing to me, but I've had enough time to speculate and overthink the answer to that.'

You paused. If this would be the last letter you wrote to him, you didn't want it to sound so bitter. You still loved him, and he was your first love. You could never truly hate him. But you had to let go. How to convey that in a single letter?

'I can only hope that you're holding up alright. I've missed you dearly since the last letter you wrote to me, and I hope you know that I truly do love you. Far too much for my heart to handle.'

'Which is why this is the last letter I'll be sending you. For my wellbeing, for my mental health. I can't sit here and worry for you every single day. I tried waiting around for you, but it seems you've given up on me before I could even think of giving up on you.'

'I will keep the memories we made in my heart and mind always, and I hope your memory of me is fond, and that you loved me as much as I loved you.'

'Thank you so much for making these the most wonderful years of my life. I'll forever remember you fondly. I wish you the best in life and in health.'

You paused. Was this enough? You didn't want to overwhelm him, if he even did end up reading your letter. One last look through the letter and you let out a small sigh. This was it. You just had to sign it, package it nicely into its envelope, and send it off to him.

In hopes that he'd receive it, read it, and that it would bring peace to your heart. Even if it meant not knowing of him anymore. You could only hope.

You wiped your eyes, a small smile on your face, a hushed "Thank you" escaping your lips as you finally signed near the end of the page,

'Take Care' .

#alex quackity #quackity #quackity x you #quackity x reader #quackity x y/n #gender neutral reader #quackity brainrot #quackity scenario #streamer #quackity headcannons #quackity imagines #the old times #no modern technology #we write letters instead #letters to my love #longing hours #quackity my beloved #goodbye #quackity angst #take care <3

[dreadwulf]

2: The Black Mountains

Post-Apocalyptic Modern AU. Chapter 1 is here.

The last thing his right eye ever saw was Brienne. 

In that eye she is shouting. Of course he couldn’t hear her at the time over the jeers of the Bloody Mummers tying him to the table. Their laughter had been right up against his ears and the sound of it drowned out everything else in that abandoned mall. The image is soundless: her mouth is just open, her throat pushing out a word that looks like No. Her blue eyes are also open wide, both frightened and angry, a righteous fury that came to him as a surprise, at the time.

She is a still image that resides in the abandoned nerves to that empty eye socket. If he cares to, he can still see her there, superimposed over everything.

She hovers over The Spider’s right shoulder just now. Still saying No.  

He tries to focus on the Spider’s face instead. Varys raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow on his immaculate bald head.

“You can’t shoot anymore. Not like before, not with one eye. You know this.”

“I don’t mean to shoot.” Jaime shows his palms. “I have two hands still. I need a weapon I won’t have to aim.”

Varys measures this statement. He is a man who deals in knowledge more than goods, but he has an armed guard, and a collection of interesting weapons. Both for his own protection, and for use in acquiring the most valuable intel.

“In that case,” the Spider presses a button on the trailer wall. To one of the bikers, a large man with a burnt face who looks in the door in response to his call, he instructs, “bring me the Widow’s Wail.”

The same scarred man reappears with a comically oversized weapon in his hands. Turns out Widow’s Wail is an axe. It is a huge, two-handed, double-bladed axe and when the burnt biker hands it to Jaime his hands dip with the weight.

Axes, Brienne used to tell him, are the best weapon for killing Others. You don’t need to reload an axe. It can’t jam, doesn’t recoil. Simple and effective. 

Messy though, he had said back. He had always preferred his rifle -- clean and fast, one shot and done, and hopefully at a distance. The Others would fall down like carnival targets, one after another, and his favorite jacket would remain spotless. But after they took his eye, he had needed a new weapon, and his jacket was long-ruined by then. 

This is messy work, she had replied.

Now, he lifts the weapon, turns it one way and another. Both edges gleam in the fluorescent light. This axe has been sharpened recently. It is spotless. This weapon has never seen battle.

“It’s new,” Varys fills in immediately, “but it was designed to kill Others. Old valyrian steel, made the old way. We haven’t yet had opportunity to test it, but it will strike true.”

Jaime doesn’t ask how Varys would be able to make a valyrian steel weapon. Knowing how is what he does. 

The Spider watches him curiously. “Are we square then, Slayer?”

“Almost.” He sits again, crosses the long weapon over his lap with both fists grasping it tightly. “Where did it happen?”

“In the North. What exactly happened is unclear even to me, but we know for certain she had traveled north with a small gang. There are reports of her at Winterfell, and then she went with Snow and a small band of Starks beyond the Black Mountains. They returned without her.”

Jaime nods shortly. “Winterfell, then the wilds.”

The Spider frowns. He is perhaps a little perplexed by this conversation, or by Jaime himself. He likes to think he knows people, knows how they will react. But recent years have made a different man of Jaime Lannister. The fall of King’s Landing, his father’s death, the business with Cersei -- after all that, the arrogant and impetuous adventurer of his younger days is long gone. He is a ghost of himself, and the Spider doesn’t know what this ghost will do. He doesn’t like that.

He sits up a little bit straighter on his couch.  “Then it isn’t our local outbreak you intend to fight? I expected you would be nearby. Kill some Others, burn off some steam, and incidentally clear out some of the infestation in the Riverlands, which would be convenient for me. But you aren’t doing that, are you? You mean to follow her? To what purpose?”

Jaime’s eye flickers briefly right. “Hunting.”

“It will be pointless to mount a rescue mission, I assure you.”

“That isn’t the point.”

Their eyes meet for a moment. Jaime isn’t about to elaborate on his intentions, and Varys is visibly frustrated. His silky tones shorten, revealing something sharp beneath. 

“I ought to stop you. You have brought order to the Westerlands, and you’re starting to bring it here too. Alliances, patrols for the roads. Your brother, clever as he is, did not do that. If you abandon these lands, it may all fall apart.”

Jaime feels a flicker of guilt for that, but it is quickly doused by everything else happening inside him. No, this is important. Maybe the most important thing he has ever done.

He shrugs stiffly. “If it falls apart without me, it was too fragile to last.” 

“You’ll need more than an axe and your motorbike to make that journey. You have favors to trade, certainly,” Varys cuts him off before he can argue, “but not that many. The scouting party went beyond the Black Mountains, across them, into the far North. There are few enough waystations on the way to Winterfell, and everything North of Winterfell belongs to the Others. There will be no shelters for you along the way, no refuges, no refueling.”

Jaime is unconcerned. “If she made it there, then I can too.”

“The Blue Angel had a party of supporters, specialists. She would have been outfitted with the best supplies and equipment. She was welcomed everywhere she went, and at the peak of her powers. No offense, Slayer, but you are past your prime, and your powers lately end at the borders of Lannister territory.”

He smiles thinly as he stands. “I didn’t know you cared, Spider. Thanks for the weapon. We’re square.”

Jaime takes the axe outside, and stands staring up at the moon, while the bikers retrieve his motorbike.

Anytime he looks at the moon, anytime there is a moon, he thinks of her. Remembers how they had looked on it together, during those long nights on the road, even though they had parted years ago now. Her on to glory, him back to the arms of his family. They delivered the girls to Winterfell, and he left her to the Kingsroad. It was her territory after that, what once had been his. She had earned it in sweat and tears and blood. She tended it well without him. He had gloried in tales of her exploits.

Whenever he looks at the moon, he has always wondered if she is looking too. Wherever she is.

He thinks he will not be able to look at the moon anymore.

When he turns his head, Varys stands on the steps of his trailer, his bald head gleaming against the fluorescent light. Jaime has never seen him outside his trailer. It’s confusing, a little like seeing a penguin in the jungle.

“The Others of the Black Mountains are different,” The Spider warns him. “Worse.” 

When his bike comes rolling back with two of the Spider’s bikers, it comes with a few more gifts. Two metal spheres, one the size of a softball and the other the size of a chestnut.

Grenades, obviously Old World. Gods know where Varys got them from, certainly they aren’t made this way anymore. What they’re calling grenades now will mostly just make noise. But these two could probably blow a hole in a tank. He packs them onto his bike carefully.

Any old-world weapon would be priceless now, Jaime knows. Varys would not overpay a debt.

He squints up at the Spider, who makes a silky shadow in the doorway against his light. “And the cost?”  

The Spider smiles -- he can’t see it, on a shadow, but he can hear it in his voice. “If you come back, tell me what you saw. I hear very little of the Black Mountains and none of it first-hand.”

Jaime can promise that easily enough. He knows he won’t be coming back.

He walks his bike in silence about a mile up the road before waking the engines and roaring away.

He rides the motorbike until the last of his carefully hoarded gasoline is run out, rides right through the next day and into the night. Gets more miles out of it than he would have gotten with his creaky armored car, and certainly faster. 

Along the way he sees no other travelers. Five years ago there would have been at least a few others, some other vehicles, perhaps spaced out and alone, perhaps all in a big caravan for safety. But there is not much fuel left anymore. And North is not a direction people go in now.

It was how he had met her, actually. On a road much like this one.  He had been on a different motorbike and she had been driving a sedan. Obviously following him, less obvious why. He made it a chase - weaving between the stopped traffic, blasting around the walkers and cyclists and parades of cars going nowhere. She had somehow kept up with him, pushing her poor little car to its limits. Eventually he decided whoever it was had earned his attention for at least a few minutes, and he pulled over on the road to watch the tallest, ugliest woman he had ever seen unfold herself out of her car. 

She kept his attention considerably longer than a few minutes. .

Of course, he could enjoy a chase back then - you could still count on petrol, could siphon it out of most any vehicle you encountered along the way. The cars along the road here are bone dry by now, haven’t moved in years, and the electronics, trunk supplies, and even promising upholstery have been stripped out of them long ago. The cars pass by now in muted streaks of blue and red, dulled by layers of paint-stripping weather damage and snow. 

When his bike sputters to a stop, he leaves it right out on the highway. Packs his equipment onto his back. Then he begins to walk.

Without the headlights of his bike, it’s quite dark. No streetlights, of course. He has a torch in his bag, but he’s saving that battery as long as he can. Anyway, the moon is out, and once his eyes are adjusted he sees well enough. The trees encroaching on the interstate have not quite overtaken the shoulder, and the glow of moon and stars light up the cracked concrete in front of him, and glitter in the frost.

His boots echo his footfalls up and down the highway. First the gritty sound of gravel, and then the crunch of ice, and then the quieter scrunch of snow. 

There are no other sounds to hear out here -- no bird cries, no insects. They aren’t sure if the animals are dead, hiding, or run away, but no one sees them anymore. Means he doesn’t have to worry about being eaten by bears, at least.

The last bear he has seen was that time with Brienne, actually. It might have been the last bear, period. He hasn’t heard of any other ones since. That would be a shame, if that had been the last bear, and they’d killed it. He hadn’t wanted to. He can’t take it personally, the bear trying to eat them. He was only hungry, and they were all very hungry that winter. 

He didn’t know he would be fleeing the last bear in Westeros with her, when he met Brienne on the road. He only knew she was capable, and she was following him, and anyone out in the wilds could be dangerous. Out here other people were either foolishly overconfident, robbers, or competition. 

Brienne proved to be the last type, possibly also the first. She was after the Stark bounty, same as him. She had a personal stake. He could keep the money, she said. He had a lot more experience and knew where he was going, but she could be an ally. She could help.

He had laughed in her face, more or less. Said she was free to make the bounty herself, but he traveled alone. Newbies tended to die almost immediately, and he hadn’t stayed alive this long by babysitting foolish college students. He would locate the missing Stark girls and deliver them home. But if she wanted to return them herself she’d have to beat him there. 

A few weeks later they had wound up with one Stark girl apiece -- him with Sansa and her best girlfriend Jayne, her with Arya and her mate Gendry -- and again she had proposed an alliance for the trip up to Winterfell. No one had made it to Winterfell since the disaster, but their chances were better together, she said.

His better idea was that he could take the two valuable girls to Winterfell and she could take the two spares and go back to King’s Landing where it was safe, or jump in a lake for all he cared. But that conversation had been interrupted by the Bloody Mummers, and after that… things were very different after that.

Jaime slows to a stop with this remembrance, digs in his bag for his water bottle and takes a long pull. He’s tiring faster than he expected. He has tried to keep himself in fighting shape the last few years, but he hasn’t made a journey like this in a long time.

You’ve grown soft, he thinks, but inside his head it sounds like Brienne’s gentle ribbing. The tone she had taken after she stopped insulting him for real.

I’m refined, he answers back, slinging his pack over his shoulder and walking again. Answers between breaths, like he’s actually speaking. I’m a diplomat these days, remember? 

Will you try to negotiate with the Others then? She laughs in his ear. What will you trade them, wine? Broken electronics? The only economy they know is violence, and we trade them blows. 

He smiles to himself, despite everything. Young lady, it’s a good thing you didn’t come back to King’s Landing with me. You would have knocked out the Small Council within a day, and we’d both have been out on our asses.

And King’s Landing would have better off with us in the street than you in that office. We might have saved it. Old man, whatever have you done without me?

Jaime stops a moment, breathing hard, looking up at the moon.

I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ve been doing, where the time went. It all blurred together without you.

He has been having these conversations for years now. It isn’t exactly imagination. More prediction. He knows exactly what she would say in every instance. What she would think of the people he meets, the places he goes. He hears her critiques of his private practice sessions, when he tries to stay in shape for the inevitable invasion. Her quiet, private commentary. Her icy rejoinders to his jokes. They come to him like a reply. Like she has heard him gods-know-how-many miles away, and answered him back. 

It’s painful now, hearing her voice. He doesn’t know why it would be different - alive or dead, he is only talking to himself after all. Perhaps it is only more obviously futile this way, knowing she is gone. 

He was never going to see her again, he knows that. The things she does, they were always eventually going to get her killed. Hells, he told her that himself more than once. 

Even now it still isn’t entirely real to him. It doesn’t seem possible. But the Spider knows things, and if he knows them they aren’t just rumors. It’s true. It’s sinking in. Brienne is gone. 

She doesn’t walk the same world as him anymore. He will hear no more tales of her adventures, and smile privately at the things nobody else knows of her. He will not wonder if it snows where she is, or if the sun shines. Whether she ever thinks of him, the way he does of her. They traveled together only a year, but she carved a place for herself in him, in the slow and brutal way water carves a cliffside. He has kept her there all this time. Now in that space there is emptiness, a brutal, sucking vacuum that might just pull him apart if he stops moving long enough.

So he starts walking again. Keeps walking, on and on, without rest, for as long as he can stand it.

Here and there one of the Others comes onto the road ahead of him. They wander on and off aimlessly, looking lost. At a distance they look nearly alive, so long as they aren’t missing any limbs, and only the directionless of their movements give them away. As you get closer you can see their clothing is wrong -- it’s not enough clothes for the weather, or their clothes are torn, bits are missing. Maybe the clothes are rotting right off their bodies, if they’re been out long enough. Closer still and you can see the blueish tinge to the skin that the Others are famous for, the thin layer of frost that covers them head to toe. At ten feet or so you can make out the ice blue eyes that glow like cat’s eyes in the light. But by then they’ve seen you, and they move much faster than you think they can. Best not to get that close. Best to stay well away, and let them turn and wander in another direction out of sight. 

As always, one wonders what they’re looking for. Where they’re going.

Some of them will wander away before he catches up, and he pays them no mind. If he is quiet, and they didn’t take notice of him, it is easier to let them pass by. Fighting can be loud, and that sort of noise could bring more of them running.

But eventually one is too slow. They can be damaged, and those stumbling steps can be frustratingly deliberate at times. This one is fairly tall, and drags its foot in the snow. On the highway, it reminds him of an elderly driver occupying the fast lane at a crawl. Even as he slows his pace, he gets closer and closer, and the dead thing shows no signs of changing direction.

Eventually he can wait no longer. He will have to overtake the creature. At least he hasn’t seen any other Others nearby. This Other shows no sign of noticing him. Jaime slowly draws the axe off his back, and makes six rapid, long strides in the thing’s direction, winding up for a massive crossways swing.

Varys didn’t lie; the axe cuts true. One good blow across the back is enough to bring it down, and he remembers where to strike. Sever the spinal cord, destroy the brain, or burn them, that destroys them. The axe is so sharp it cuts the thing nearly in half. There is a quick, sharp sound of impact and the thud of a body hitting the ground, and then silence. 

They don’t scream, the others. They don’t make noises of any kind. Maybe because they don’t breathe anymore; who knows. He pulls the axe out of the thing’s bulk and wipes it in the snow. 

The first Other to fall to him in five years that he didn’t hit with his car. It feels good. It doesn’t relieve the great sucking void he has inside him but it does feel good.

He shoulders the axe and keeps walking. After that, he strikes down one of them every few hours, until the sun comes up, and then he huddles on the embankment, dozing, for most of the morning. It’s not so cold he’ll freeze - not yet, anyway - and there aren’t so many Others around that he can’t risk it.

He’s lucky, for the most part. There aren’t any big clusters of Others out here. Those tend to form up around settlements and cities, or lingering around empty houses. Not out here in the open space, where there aren’t travelers anymore. 

He passes the next night in a car, after crawling in a broken window. It’s not especially safer, but it is more comfortable than the ground. He sprawls across the backseat and thinks about the red wood-paneled station wagon he had found buried in a parking lot and managed to start. He and Brienne drove that car all the way to Harrenhall, the now five children sleeping in the back. The seat was so wide even Brienne could lay down in it, and she was inches taller than him. 

This car is blue, and he has to bend his knees and curl up to fit on the seat.

Keep watch for me, Angel, he tells her, before he drifts off.

Days of steady walking pass this way, with fitful bursts of sleep. 

The Black Mountains are looming in the far distance when he nears Winterfell. So tall he can see them all these miles away, staining the low edge of the horizon like a shadow. 

Jaime keeps his eyes on the ground mostly. He’s only been here once, and it wasn’t an enjoyable visit. It was a destination, and it meant the end of a long journey. He’s never much liked those. Endings. He tries to get those over with. If he can help it, he’d rather turn around and begin again right away, try to get back to the middle.

Wintertown is relatively intact, patrolled by fur-clad soldiers with shotguns. The town has grown since he was here last. The streets have people on them now, much more than in Lannisport or anywhere in the Riverlands. No cars, but regular people, old folks and even children, strolling about. He has to stop and stare at that for awhile. Pedestrians. It’s been a long time.

Perhaps things are better in the North? Maybe they are safer than they were. But Wintertown is small, and easily guarded, and in the shadow of the old Winterfell fortress these people know they can flee within its walls and be safe, should the Others attack again. That’s more reassurance than most places have. 

For a little while he walks up and down those streets, just another window-shopper. The buildings are mostly refitted as residences, but on the sidewalks people sell goods out of carts, or spread out on the sidewalk. Wanderers come through and trade the trinkets they’ve found. There aren’t prices. Most likely they will take food, and medicine, and more practical items, in trade. He didn’t bring anything like that, unfortunately. But there isn’t anything he needs here.

At the end of a long boulevard Jaime finds himself before the gates of Winterfell, and he pauses.

This was where he had parted from her. Right here.

He grimaces past that memory. He was an ass about it, of course. Tried to sneak away. She caught him. There was a confrontation. Things were said. 

Things? Brienne-in-his-mind prods him indignantly. Have you forgotten already?

I remember every word. He sighs. Unfortunately.

The gates to Winterfell stand open for now. Probably so that Wintertown can run inside, if someone rings the alarm. Jaime passes through and takes the gravel path to the old castle. It’s a sturdy thing, for being several hundred years old. Solid and undecayed. Sure, they have to replace the wood every few decades, but the stone is thick and unbroken. There are walls behind walls, like any medieval keep, and courtyards and gates separating them. Guards stand atop the fortifications with guns, and they watch him approaching. Wary, but welcoming. Anyone not undead is allowed to pass through, at least to the midden.

The kids are here at Winterfell, probably. Somewhere. Many of them stayed, he has heard. The Starks for sure, and maybe some of the other strays he and Brienne had picked up along the way. Any of the running kids in Wintertown could have been Apple, that baby that Willow and Sansa had fawned over. He would be five, six years old now. That is, if he were alive. 

He doesn’t want to see any of them if he can help it. Best not to go inside the Great Keep then. He goes to the Great Hall instead. The velvet ropes are all taken down. It was a tourist trap for a lot of years, before its fortifications became unexpectedly useful again. Used to be you could get a feast inside, with cosplayers and a jester and a bard, and then you could get back in your car and drive away home. 

Bit different now. The fires are still roaring, but put to more practical use. Broken furniture surrounds the great fireplaces where they have been stripping the upholstery and feeding the fire. Laundry is strung up before them, and boils in great kettles. Nearer to mealtime the laundry will be replaced with soup and stew. The fireplaces in the living quarters had been stripped out long ago, replaced with appliances that no longer work. They have to do nearly everything in the great hall now, and gather in smaller rooms. 

The head washerwoman takes his message back to the living quarters and Jaime sits down to wait. There is an armchair that is strikingly comfortable for as old as it looks, upholstered in a velvety material. It might be some kind of antique, something with a PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH sign on it back when this was a museum. There isn’t much use for antiques anymore. He sits in the chair.

He sits back and stares at nothing for a time. He might have fallen asleep, because the girls appear as if by magic, just as he remembers them but taller and leaner, their chubby faces hollowed by early adulthood. 

Sansa is quite tall, for a Stark anyway. She looks like her mother otherwise; red-haired, high-cheekboned, very pretty. Her sister looks like their father, sturdy and strong-jawed, Northern. They stare at him owlishly, and he wonders what he looks like to them. He is not nearly so changed -- grew a beard, added some lines around his eyes -- but they were children when they saw him last, and they are not children now. He has to look up to see them.

“You came for Brienne,” Arya says abruptly -- as usual she realizes the obvious first and doesn’t hesitate to speak it aloud. 

Jaime nods. There isn’t much more to say than that.

“We had a memorial,” Sansa hovers over him awkwardly, looking unsure. “All of Winterfell came, much of Wintertown as well. We would have waited if we had known you would come.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?” He says it more sharply than he intends.

Arya snaps back. “You’ve been gone a long time, and not a single letter. What else could we think?”

Sansa stops her with a hand to her shoulder. She was always an empathetic child. “You’re welcome here now. Can I get you anything?”

“Your brother. If he’s here.” His eyes drift to Widow’s Wail, where it sits on the floor beside him. “I’ve heard he was there when it happened. I need to hear it from him.”

Sansa leans forward and touches his hands, briefly. “We can take you to him.”

He can only nod. 

He follows the girls through the old fortress into a more modern living area. Home, most like. The Starks have all congregated here, the ones left.

Jon Snow he has never met before. The girls’ half-brother. Lord Snow of Winterfell, now. He stands straight and stiff, trying to look older than he is. He has a warm parka on over his polar fleece, something puffy and filled with down. It’s hard to be serious in a puffy coat without coming off at least faintly ridiculous, but the young man manages it somehow. 

“She was a great help to my family,” Jon says, and shakes his hand vigorously. “A great fighter, the bravest of all of us, and the kindest too. Every one of us here at Winterfell thought very highly of her.”

“And your mission?” Jaime shuts down the reminiscence quickly. He does not want to remember Brienne here. Certainly not with the Starks.

Jon hangs his head. “It wasn’t a complete waste. But it wasn’t quite what we wanted, either.”

He gestures to a sofa. Jaime sits on the edge of it, unwilling to relax. This is rather too much civilization for him right now. Jon sits down expansively on an easy chair, and runs a hand through wild black hair. 

“We were hoping to find something that would explain where the Others come from. We thought the Black Mountains might have the answer, the mountains and the land beyond. It’s hard to find much on the Mountains though -- only one road is passable, everywhere else is ice and deep snow. Beyond the Mountains there is a place they’re calling Craster’s Keep. We knew something was very wrong there. We should have stayed away.” Jon shakes his head, so serious. 

Jaime waits.

“We suspected they were colluding with the Others somehow. The ones on the Mountain. The old man… it was terrible. What he was doing. We had to put a stop to it. Brienne followed one of the men to their meeting place, where the Others come down the Mountain. She never came back.”

That is rather less definitive than Jaime wants to hear. 

“That’s all? Did you search?” he asks sharply.

Jon looks defensive at first, but softens quickly. “I assure you, if there was anything to find, we would have found it. We were very fond of her. There were signs of a battle, and several Others fallen there. But of her there was no sign. There was no body.” Jon looks reluctant to continue. “We did find this.”

Hesitantly, he holds out the wrapped bundle to Jaime. He knows it immediately. Takes it like he took the grenades, carefully and reluctantly.

His hands unwrap the thing before he can think twice, to show himself what he already knows. It’s Brienne’s titanium bat. Bloodstained, dirty, with a single chip in it near the tip. 

They had nicknamed it Oathkeeper, way back then. It was more like a mythical sword than a bat. Titanium bats weren’t even allowed in baseball, in any league. They hit the ball so hard it was dangerous to the other players. They probably shouldn’t have been made in the first place, and they stopped making them decades before the Others came and their true usefulness became apparent. 

Jaime holds the bat. Brienne had carried this thing for so long. He puts his fingers where she would have put hers, the way a player held it  to hit a ball. He can see the mark of her fingers there, slowly rubbed into the metal across the years. 

Jon is still talking. “These Others are different. Our Others will kill and turn. But these... We suspect that they consume the bodies instead of raising them. I think there was nothing remaining to find.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jaime stands.

“If you will insist…” Jon rises as well, solemn. “My friend Sam stayed behind there. If you reach Craster’s Keep, ask for Sam. He’ll tell you what you need to know.”

*****************  

He passes a night there, lying awake in a bed. 

They gave him her room. A quiet, out-of-the-way guest bedroom with little in the way of modern amenities. It has a homey feeling, just the same. It feels like her.

She left some things there; little knick-knacks. She liked to pick up small things, put them in her pockets. Her coat had loads of pockets hidden everywhere. By the end of the day she would have lots of little treasures. You could turn her upside down and shake her and all sorts of shiny treats would come rolling out. Figurines, stones, tiny toys. They’re arranged all around the room, on the windowsill, on the dresser. Probably if he went through her clothes he would find more things still hidden away in her pockets. The coat, though, that wouldn’t be there in the closet, he knows without looking. She would have it with her, wherever she has gone.

Jaime leaves her things alone. It’s enough to know they’re there, waiting for her. 

Brienne slept in this bed. This is the only home she had, so far as he knows. She stayed here after he left, here at Winterfell. She would have rested here -- she was still a little sick. It had been a few weeks, at least, before she went back to the Kingsroad. After that she came back here between adventures, making the long, dangerous journey there and back again. In the dead of winter she would rest here at least a month, from what he could tell, every year.

He should have stayed with her. 

She never asked him. Not out loud. But he knows, deep down, he would have been welcome. He knew it then, too. But he had left her at Winterfell and gone back. Back to the arms of his family who needed him more than she ever would. Back to his father and his expectations, to his siblings who needed his protection. The job was over, and he went back to where he belonged. 

Not a day has gone by that he doesn’t regret it. 

************************

In the morning he is lacing his new boots in the great hall, a gift from Jon. They are a little large, but warm, and useful for maneuvering on ice. He suspects they had once belonged to Ned Stark; certainly none of the Stark boys have feet this big.

Jon has also given him a down parka like his own. Such a thing would fetch a lot in trade these days, but he insists Jaime take it. “This is the least I can do, for bringing my brother and sisters home.” 

Jaime promises to return it, though he can see that Jon does not expect to see him at Winterfell again. Neither of them do.

His pack has been refilled with food, bandages, antiseptic, and an icepick. Arya had thrust the bag at him wordlessly and turned on her heel and left and he does not see her again. How much and how little people change from when they are small; he can still see the dark-eyed child in the woman she is becoming. It makes him feel positively ancient.

Sansa accompanies him to the gates of Winterfell, gliding elegantly over the snow in her warm winter coat. She chatters as much as she always did, though it was never to him before. She used to keep her distance from him, as she had from most men. She misses Brienne, he realizes, looking at her. She must have been like an older sister, or an aunt, or...

He never did lay eyes on Rickon, did he? He is probably running wild somewhere, running with the wolves. He doesn’t ask, though he suspects Sansa would like him to. Nor does he ask about Willow, or Gendry, or any of the others. He has too much to carry already.

“You’re different,” Sansa tells him, nearing the gates.

“You’re older,” he says. “You see me better.”

“Maybe.” The auburn beauty frowns. “Do you think she’s still alive out there?”

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to see the concern on her face, not if it’s for him.

“Do you think Brienne would want you to do this? Go after her like this?”

No. “That won’t stop me.” 

“She would want you to go on with your life.”

“I don’t care.” He can’t quite look at Sansa. He couldn’t look at Arya either. They remind him of too much. 

“Why did you never come back? She waited for you. She was still waiting.”

He shuts his eyes against her. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t. Not now.”

Sansa sniffles, and her voice trembles. “I’m so sorry. You were both so good to us. I’m so sorry,” she repeats, and tries to put her arms around him, but he’s already walking away.

He’s going through the gates of Winterfell, straight down the boulevard of Wintertown.

He doesn’t stop. He turns to the Black Mountains, and keeps walking.

#dreadwulf fic #And You Will Know Them By The Trail of Dead #braime #jaime x brienne #modern AU #Zombie AU #though ASOIAF is already a zombie AU this is just... a different one

[riddlecrux]

Rosehall

Day 1 of Elriel Month is here! Summary: He knew that Rhysand's orders weren't fickle nor laced with lies, yet he couldn't phantom how his brother turned on him. How he, of all the people, couldn't understand how badly he wanted to be happy.

You can also read it on ao3!

They didn't talk.

No shy glances, no accidental touches while passing each other through the corridor, no warm smiles behind the rim of a wine glass. Even the silence in which he was sitting was unbearable, so different than the one that carried comfort and jasmine scent that always made him content, whole, at ease. Now, sitting alone on the fine chair in the House of Wind he was barely breathing. He was suffocating with loneliness, heavier than the one that crawled through his bones in that dark cell from his childhood. A real pain exploded behind his closed eyelids.

The night air pricked on his face as he tried not to think, not to feel. It was as if the gaping hole in his chest was a thing of his own shadows - swirling inside, eating him out and leaving only shreds of his broken emotions. He tried. He tried so desperately not to fall for her. For yet another unattainable person that was next to him just to mock his misfortune. It was something completely wrong. How one can take so many failures and still delude himself that maybe this time the ending would be different.

He was such a damned fool.

Azriel opened his eyes as a sharp pang in his chest enveloped him in another wave of utter bitterness and helplessness. The thing with Elain was something he hadn't expected - she came into his life wielding a fork and suddenly he could see clearer than ever before in his life. How sun caught in her golden-brown hair and how the freckles on her left cheek created a small triangle. And the way all that loveliness faded away when she was stripped of her own free will - and how he failed her at that moment. The arrow to his chest didn't hurt as much as her screams. The terror of them was still haunting him during long nights of insomnia and half slept nights.

And there was that companionship they formed. Based on silence and gardens. Teas full of leaves and sticky fruit floating on its surface. Elain always preferred her to drink sweet, even if her nose scrunched each time she sipped from a porcelain teacup - pale pinky held in the air as if she was still a lady in a room full of liars and men trying to woo her. Maybe during those moments of tranquility between them, he started to appreciate her gentleness even more.

Their meetings slowly but surely transformed into nights full of sleeplessness and sore throats - silence turned into constant chatter about everything and nothing. The first time he heard her giggle his world turned upside down. In that particular moment she was all he saw, in all her golden glory and chocolate smear on her chin - so warm and bright, so out of his reach. A secret. His secret, a memory to be locked inside his mind's labyrinth.

Sometimes he wished that both of them stopped before they had even begun their… relationship. Because maybe if he possessed more self strength and if he was less selfish, he would have protested when Elain touched his hand while they were resting in the garden. Or when he caressed her cheek while trying to get rid of the soil splattered there. Whenever they touched Azriel felt as if he was healing. These small palms that traced ridiculous figures on his scarred hands brought him comfort no one else did. A touch so tender that he wanted to break in halves only for her to mend him again. She was nothing like him and at the same time so familiar, so understanding. When she looked at him with her brown eyes full of terrors and beauty, he knew that she could see his soul. Every ugly part of him. And she never averted her stare, never flinched from his touch - she wholeheartedly accepted him.

Sighing out loud his wings twitched behind him when his eyes darkened once again. He knew that Rhysand's orders weren't fickle nor laced with lies, yet he couldn't phantom how his brother turned on him. How he, of all the people, couldn't understand how badly he wanted to be happy.

"Long night?" He snapped his neck at the voice and inwardly relaxed seeing cold silver eyes staring at him without fear.

"I suppose so," shrugging his shoulders he turned back toward the city, one hand still on the glass of strong alcohol he was pouring into himself for hours. A screech of a moving chair resonated next to him and with a slow exhale he sipped his drink.

"Not the fire this time," Nesta huffed and he saw in his peripheral vision that she poured herself a decent shot as well. "Both of you are the same," a small smile ghosted on her lips before she drank the brownish liquid in one go.

"Me and who?" He knew playing stupid wouldn't work on her but he was so tired. He had already lost, so Nesta seeing him at his worst would be nothing in comparison to the thunder inside his mind. The oldest Archeron sister let out a dry chuckle which indicated that she was aware of his silly attempt of deflection.

"Elain," her name awakened something inside him. Like a golden tether holding him upwards, longing after the female that brought up such emotions from him. "She used to glow these days, you know," he saw her playing with the rim of the goblet. Long finger stopping suddenly as if the glass burned her. "I know what happiness looks on her, and whenever both of you interacted or spent time together she was always… so bright. So alive," his heart thumped a few times before it gave him a painful tug. "The moment you saved her life was the first time I had wished that you were her mate," the wound opened again, a small sound escaped his mouth before he slumped forward. "But fate isn't so merciful. Yet, Elain made her own way in this life. I saw how she escaped that empty shell she used to be and how she learned to breathe again… with you ," Azriel wanted her to stop. To let go of this torment she was exposing him to.

"I can't listen to this," he stood up, his wings stretching to its whole span. "You know it's impossible," his bitter laugh echoed in the interior. "We both know that it doesn't matter if I have feelings for her," he was ready to fly away when Nesta's hand caught his elbow. Silver eyes shone in the darkness of the night with ancient power.

"It's her choice," she whispered. "She doesn't want her mate, she has never wanted that bond," her grip loosened for a bit and he was tempted to run away but her expression held him in one place. "But she wants you. She chose you. And you know it because I saw how you look at her, how both of you glance at each other," she pinched him when he was composing himself from snapping at her. "Ask her. Ask her about what she wants. Take her to the place where it's just both of you, so no one can interfere," her nod was final and with it, she slowly turned around and vanished upstairs. His jaw hurt from the force he was clenching his teeth. Nesta's words were a poison that circulated through his bloodstream.

Could he have that conversation?

Could they possibly be together?

The night air was cold against his burning skin when he shot up in the sky, wings outstretched and tense.

*

He landed on her balcony.

The beige curtains were dancing in the air, metal dreamcatcher swaying on the wisps with a soft melody. There were plants and flowers scattered around the balustrade and his shadows skittered around them, leaping into petals and leaves before returning to his form. He stopped beside the wooden table to see half-finished tea and some papers - a few of them with drawings of different gardens, trees, and notes about the seeds. However, what caught his attention was a stash of papers with Elain's handwriting. All of them were thrown around the surface with drops of tea marking some of them. There were letters forming sentences, he could pinpoint some of them, ones that weren't completely crossed out in the pale moonlight. He was about to touch one scroll with his name on it when his shadows whirled around him with a soft warning.

"Spying on me?" The sweet scent of jasmine and honey embraced his person as his hazel eyes blinked at the sight in front of him. Elain was in a white nightgown, tiny ribbons on her freckled shoulders were something he didn't know he needed to see in his life. Her loose hair was curling at its edges as the tresses touched her middle. She was watching him, big brown eyes stoic and unnerving.

"No," he breathed and her smell attacked his senses, driving him crazy. She crossed her arms under her breasts and padded towards him. Her feet stopped next to him and with a lazy movement, she gathered her papers without glancing at him. He could see her nape, soft and pale and so inviting as she leaned across the table. His fingers curled into fists when her presence burned his self-resilience.

"Do you need me for something?" She inquired letters in her grip and a slight frown on her perfect face.

"Actually," his shoulder tensed when she shot him a questioning glance. "Yes, I need you," he left it there. A pause and weight of his words, waiting for the judgment and perhaps hatred. But it never came as Elain silently turned to him, her lips parted and a soundless sigh ghosting in the air between them. She peered at him, irises wide and somewhat gentle before she touched his biceps and he was ready to be undone.

"We should talk," her breath tickled his skin as he nodded without thinking twice. "Here?" Her question woke him up and trying not to scare her, he offered his scarred palm while stretching out his wings.

"There's a place I want to show you," his words echoed in the dead of night and as her small fingers wrapped around his hand he could finally breathe again.

*

When they arrived the moon was high in the sky, its light reflecting on the waters of a marble fountain in front of the manor. He exhaled letting Elain down as she politely exchanged her thanks. She pried her hair from the face and with newfound excitement, she whirled around facing him with a bright smile.

"I dreamed about this place," her voice was warm and all he wanted was to touch her to make sure she was standing there under the moonlight. "The gardens were something I have wanted to see," she pointed a finger in the direction of a greenhouse and a patch of flowers and vines.

"Dream or a vision?" He knew he shouldn't test his luck, yet deep down inside he felt as if he had already known the answer. As if it was imprinted inside his heart for a long time.

"Vision," she answered, walking towards the field of roses. Her palm touched some petals while her hair tumbled down towards the ground. "I saw you here," her digits closed around the stem with silent amusement. "You were happy," she turned around and looked straight at him.

"This is Rosehall," the lump in his throat made it difficult for him to speak. It was like a fever dream of his, having her here in the fields of flowers and so painstakingly real.

"Very suitable," she smiled and turned once again stepping onto the soft grass. "It's a pretty name," he heard her sitting on the ground and when he glanced up he saw her lying flat on the earth. Her knees were slightly angled but her face was upwards as if she was watching stars. Azriel staggered towards her, breathing fresh air as he finally stood up on her right.

"I haven't thought about its name for years," he slowly sat and looked at her profile. She was gazing at the sky with a small smile. Happiness looked beautiful on her, it made her glow.

"There's so much...space," she breathed and her chest moved in a slight erratic manner. "You can almost taste freedom here," Elain blinked as she turned onto her side. She faced him and he thought that there was never a time in his life when he felt so many emotions at once.

"I'm sorry," the edges of him crumbled as his eyes started to burn. He didn't mean to hurt her, not in the slightest. He was just too… selfish. And she was everything he had ever dreamed about, an embodiment of home, of a warmth he so desperately searched for. "It wasn't a mistake," he whispered as her hand fell upon his abdomen. Always trusting, always inviting.

"Then what? A distraction?" She mused as her body leaned forward and she was mirroring his position. "I will never know as long as you won't talk to me," she supplied with a pain in her voice.

"No, never a distraction. I have wanted this," he circled the air with his hand ambiguously. "From the moment you clenched onto that fork you were someone I have wanted to be with," his head lowered down Azriel didn't want to meet her eyes.

"Why haven't you told me?" Her confusion mixed with regret pained him.

"You have a mate," he muttered while plucking on some innocent straw of grass.

"And you know I don't want him," her palm searched for his cheek and as she turned his face to look at her, he saw tears in her eyes. "Whenever I'm with you I feel whole. Alive. I look at you and feel so scared," he inwardly flinched yet she held him in one place. "Scared of losing you. Every time I lose sight of you I feel like I'm drowning. It's as if a part of me was ripped apart," she closed her trembling lips and stared at him with utter devotion.

"Elain," his fingers touched her neck, his thumb circling around the hollow gap between her shoulder and jaw.

"That night I chose you. Us," she said with a final note, leaning against his hand. "It's my choice, no one else's," a butterfly-like kiss ghosted on his inner palm.

"Rhysand's orders," he gulped when she pushed him down and climbed onto his lap.

"Fuck Rhysand's orders," she spat and for a moment both of them were silent. Then he laughed, a true bellowing laughter erupted at the back of his throat at her vicious remark. Her giggles followed and he had never heard such an extraordinary sound.

"Never deemed you as a foul mouth," he managed when she slumped forward, enveloping him in a warm hug.

"I live with Illyrians and a very pissed immortal being," a hot kiss on his neck made him shiver.

"Elain," he took her face in his hands and stared at her brown eyes with a heat crawling down his spine. "Elain," he whispered again while closing the distance between them. She whimpered when he finally nibbed at her lower lip. The sensation waking up something primal inside him, a storm of feelings and needs attacking his senses. Her warm mouth opened and he finally kissed her - something exploded in his chest, something brilliant and intimate. It was as if everything was set in order, the way her lips moved against and how their bodies molded into one. He could feel her, smell her need and anticipation. She was shaking as her small fingers dug into his neck.

"Azriel," his name on her lips was his undoing. He opened his eyes and saw her… glowing. The golden hue enveloping both of them into a cocoon of intense bliss. When she opened her eyes the golden color lingered there for a while before vanishing, leaving both of them gasping for air.

"You were always there," he realized touching his chest. A vibrant thread blinding him with its magnitude.

"Rosehall," she laughed tracing his scars. "You have waited for so long," Elain kissed his temple while embracing him again. "I'm sorry I have made you wait for so long," the bridge between them sparkled with love and belonging.

"I knew you would come to me," nothing but the truth slipped through his lips as he gently cupped her chin. Both of them stared at each other, halves of two finally found. A home he had longed for, held in his arms as a scent of roses and jasmine shielded him from the world.

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #pro elriel #elriel #day 1 #rosehall #pro elain archeron #pro azriel #elain and azriel

[zombryz]

chile, I want my guts DESTROYED by Broly or Whis. Ik saying Whis is a stretch, but idk, he's so fine to meeee. thank you 🥰

Hi Anon! I’m sort of a Whis girl myself (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵) please enjoy this lovely Whis one shot ~

TW: smut, and some fluff ✧

Lord Beerus’ planet was honestly really pretty. It was concealed within a nebula and it appeared to be upside down although when you were within it you were always right side up. Strange, but beautiful. There was an enormous tree growing in the center which at the base held Lord Beerus’ castle. Every morning you would take in all its glory with your daily meditation ritual that Piccolo taught you. You have been here for going on four months now. Because you were human you had no need for training, but Goku and Vegeta insisted on you coming along to cook meals and to keep them company. The Saiyan’s would be so lost without you. You had originally rolled your eyes at the invitation but you couldn’t pass up traveling through the galaxy. Lord Beerus and his attendant, Whis, didn’t seem to mind. They were always in the mood for a good meal. It was also a perk having a destroyer on your side, imagine if someone on earth had looked at you the wrong way. Gods, not even luck would be able to help them. It had grown a bit lonely though, your daily routine consisted of; waking up, meditating, watching Goku and Vegeta train with Whis, prepare breakfast, go back to meditation, watch them train some more, cook lunch, talk to Lord Beerus when/if he woke up, sometimes watch godtube with Lord Beerus, cook dinner, go to sleep, repeat. Your routine was becoming tiresome and you ached for a change.

This morning you had been meditating, your regular schedule, you looked down to see Goku and Vegeta going head to head with Whis. Obviously, Whis had dodged every single attack made by the pair of Saiyans. Your hands were on top of your knees while you were sitting in a criss-cross position. You had lifted one eye up to watch them train. The Saiyans hadn’t interested you as much as Whis did. He was so smooth and had such a calming presence. You felt as though nothing could penetrate his defenses. Vegeta once told you that Whis was the one to train Lord Beerus and so that piqued your interest. While watching them train you had usually fixed your eyes on either Goku or Vegeta, but this time you couldn’t take your eyes off of Whis. Something about him was so elegant and intoxicating. He must’ve felt your peering eyes because in the midst of taking on four fists to the face he looked up at you, making eye contact causing you to immediately close both of your eyes. Shit, you’d been caught peeping. You hoped with his many talents that he couldn’t read minds, that would be embarrassing to explain to him the dirty things you had been thinking at that moment. 

Finally, it was dinner time. You had cooked up a large enough meal for your makeshift-god family. You made mountains of ramen, it all looked and smelled so delicious. The spices filling up the room causing your mouth to water. You grabbed one bowl for yourself and let them all dig in. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” Whis looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. He held direct eye contact for a moment. This was a different look for him, usually, he stuffs his face and would give thanks after. 

“You’re welcome, Whis,” you replied, giving a gentle smile. This interaction caused your heart to thump in your chest. He had singled you out before you were nothing more than the cook. If you were being honest with yourself you didn’t even know if he knew your name. 

After dinner, you found yourself in your bedroom, one of the many rooms in the palace. This always confused you because Beerus didn’t seem to be one for having guests over. You had just gotten out of your nightly shower patting your hair dry with a secondary towel. When you walk out of the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom, you see none other than the Angel himself, Whis. You froze, your first thought was that maybe you were seeing things. Why was Whis in your bedroom? He was standing there with his scepter in his right hand while his left hand was behind his back. There was a moment of silence before he began to speak. 

“I am not supposed to be doing this but after the way you looked at me today it confirmed it,” he trailed off at the end. You weren’t really following. 

“Whis, what are you talking about?” You questioned, raising a brow in confusion. He seemed a little nervous himself and you were glad you weren’t the only one having a mini panic attack. 

“I have felt attracted to you for a while now, Y/N. Today, when you looked at me during training your body language had confirmed that you feel the same.” He said this time sounding more confident than before. Your heart started racing, you thought this was just some silly crush but now an Angel was standing in your bedroom confessing how he feels about you. Your face was turning rosy when you realized you hadn’t responded to him yet. 

“Oh, um. Y-Yeah. I’m sorry if that complicates things for you. I didn’t even think Angels were capable of liking mortals.” You finally answered, unsure of where this was going to go. You were beginning to feel the weight of this whole conversation, not even thinking about the fact that you were still in only a towel. Angels definitely didn’t understand social cues, otherwise, this would be way more awkward. 

Without responding Whis hammered his scepter to the ground ordering it to undress you. Your towel dropped to the ground and you had no intention of covering yourself. Your cheeks had become completely red now, you were standing in front of the angel completely naked with your hair still dripping wet. Whis leaned his scepter against the wall and started undressing, removing his long black cuirass first and then his maroon robe not long after. Still in shock, you watched him remove every bit of clothing he had on until you were both standing nude and at each other’s disposal. Standing in silence you felt that this was oddly romantic, his eyes wandered down your body appreciating every part, every curve of it with a hunger in his eyes that you had never seen before. You returned the favor by letting your eyes trail down his body, starting with his perfectly chiseled jaw, just under was his glowing blue halo that fell at his collarbone, his arm muscles looked like they had been crafted by the gods themselves. His chest was perfectly swole and slender. His torso ended in a beautiful v-shape. He was standing with both hands behind his back, allowing you to take in his glory. When your eyes went lower you realized that he was already as hard as a rock. His dick was big and long and a lighter shade of blue than the rest of his skin. It looked so supple in the moonlight, his tip was a brighter pink and it had an iridescent glow of pre-cum at its tip. You wanted so badly to get on your knees, sucking off the Angel right where he stood. Your body tingles at the thought causing you to shiver.

Whis lifted two fingers and motioned for you to come to him, without even having to move your body you were flying to him through the air using his abilities. The space between you was very limited now and this caused your breathing to quicken. He towered over you and you couldn’t help but want to be dominated by him. Whis on the other hand was calm and eager. You stepped closer to him, that’s when you noticed his halo was preventing you from getting any closer. To fix the issue, you stepped underneath and into his halo so that now he shared his space with you. The halo was now wrapped around the both of you causing you to be forced closer together. Chests now touching, you looked up to see his face illuminated by both the moonlight sneaking in through the window and his halo that was humming a low buzzing noise next to both sides of your faces. The feeling was euphoric. He made one last gentle look at you before his eyes turned needy, he leaned down to kiss you. It was passionate and fiery, both of his hands came out from behind his back to grab and cup your face. His tongue wanting to explore your mouth so you slightly opened yours allowing him entrance. A moan escaped your lips sending him into a fury. His kisses became sloppy and hungry. His hands traveled down to your breasts, toying with your already hard nipples. He slightly pinched at your nipples before grabbing a fistful of your breasts causing him to inhale deeply. Growing impatient he reached down to pick you up so that you would be closer to him. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to your bed. Halo still around you both it was the most intimate you had ever felt with anyone. It was as though you were tied to each other, causing an unbreakable bond. Whis slowly laid you on the bed, you were already soaking wet and ready for him. This time you grew impatient and reached for his cock, once you had him in your hands you lined him up to your entrance making sure to slide him up and down to gather your wetness. Whis kissed you between moans, the moment he slid in you both inhaled deeply feeling the pleasure of him inside of you, your lips still pressed together. With a few more pumps you grew comfortable with his size, you wanted him to quicken his pace. 

“Whis, faster. P-please,” you breathily mewled in his ear, he didn’t hesitate. He began thrusting into you harder and faster causing you to throw your head back in pleasure which only caused him to fall closer to you because of the halo. As he continued fucking you he snaked his hands up to your breasts, with his halo it was difficult but he needed you in his mouth. He leaned down slightly, bending his body enough to grab one of your breasts. He began flicking his tongue over your sensitive skin, you were quite literally in heaven. With his free hand, he began circling your clit with his thumb. Gods, this felt so good. You bucked your hips into him desperate for release.

You wanted to make him feel good too, you motioned for him to switch places. With a quick shift you were straddling him, his cock still deep inside your walls. You moved slightly as you got comfortable in the new position. His halo created the perfect closeness you needed to ride out your orgasm. Whis sat up and kissed down your neck and collarbone. He planted sloppy kisses all over your face. He kissed the tip of your nose and forehead, causing you to smile while you bounced on top of him. This reaction made him smile sweetly in return. You continued to grind against him, he lifted his lower body slightly to give you a greater closeness than you had before. While you were riding him he wrapped his arms around you holding you down on his cock shoving his length entirely inside you, holding you still while he thrust into you this time. A loud moan came from the back of your throat causing him to quicken his speed. You were reaching for release and god was he giving it to you, he kept massaging your breasts with one hand while holding you tightly in the other. You rode out your climax, clamping around him, milking his cock, not worried about if anyone else in the palace could hear your moans of pleasure. Whis wasn’t far behind, he quickened his speed steading out his thrusts so that he could come. He held you down on his cock shoving in and out of you while you bounced on top of him. His cock hitting the end of your walls each time. With his eyes closed, he threw his head back causing you to be pulled into the nook of his neck and shoulder. You planted kisses on the sides of his neck as you rest your head on him while he came hard inside of you. He felt so good. Without getting off of him, he remained inside of you, you could feel his warm cum spilling out from the sides of your walls and down your legs but you didn’t care. You were both panting, you were still laid against him quite comfortably where you were. You were in a hugging position and never wanted to move out of this spot. After a minute or two you sat up, still straddling him you took both of your hands and cupped them around his temples, pushing his tall, white hair down while you reached up to kiss him on the forehead. After the kiss, you pressed your forehead against his. He was your angel and you never wanted to leave this halo.

#dbs whis #whis #fan fic smut #fan fiction #dragon ball super #Bryannawrites #angel #whis imagine

[drawlfoy]

snake for a badger

masterlist requests are closed, but read this before you click away! message me/send an ask to be tagged :)

pairing: hufflepuff!reader x draco

request? nope this was something that i came up with myself but low key i had quite a few hufflepuff requests that i never attended to and i wanted to give the hufflepuffs some love (my longest fics have had either ravenclaw or gryffindor readers, so this is your moment y’all...if you’re a slytherin then i’ll have something coming up for you soon ;))

summary: 6th year hufflepuff y/n y/l/n doesn’t know if she be afraid of draco malfoy after her friends warn her about his potential status as a death eater...and the fact that he keeps showing up to save her isn’t helping. THIS IS A TEASER!!!! for a much longer oneshot that’s currently in progress!!

warnings: teen drinking, secondhand embarrassment, swearing

a/n: important note that THIS IS A TEASER. i honestly have no idea how the entire oneshot is going to look (even though i assume that this isn’t exactly a one shot if there’s this added onto it). i’m not even sure if this is going to be a scene--it’s just the very first thing i wrote for it, and i liked it. i feel like draco’s character in this is really tricky because i haven’t yet decided how “ooc” i want him to be. i just really liked this idea and i’ve always had the image of y/n saving draco in this particular movie scene. let me know your thoughts!

no music recs, this is just a teaser

tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

word count: 2.5k

Her shoes dug into the back of her heels as she tried to keep up with Ginny around the corner. 

“I don’t understand why you insist on wearing those...torture devices,” the red-haired witch said without adjusting her stride in the slightest. Y/N was tempted to just rip them off then and there and attend Slughorn’s party barefoot and carefree, but she knew better. It was in her best interest to try and get on the good side of the professors. Even though she had no intention of holding an office in the Ministry or becoming an Auror, she still wanted a good scroll of recommendation from her Potions professor. Especially considering his connections.

“Why don’t you just spell the back of them soft?” asked Ginny. “That’s what Parvati does. At least, I think that’s what she does. I don’t know how else she’s able to wear them with her uniform every day.”

“She doesn’t know the first thing about shoes.” Y/N winced the tip of her heel wobbled for a moment in between the cobblestones. “Once you spell a shoe soft, they’re never the same again. They’re ruined. At least, that’s what my mother has always told me--she swears by that balm stuff I keep on my nightstand.”

“Ah, Mrs. Y/L/N. I’m glad she’s not here to see me. I think she would demand that I pay with my life for my outfit today.”

Y/N managed a smile. “Hey. You know she likes you. I think so, at least.”

They rounded the corner, and this time Ginny was kind enough to steady Y/N as they made their way up the final flight of stairs. “I don’t know how you’re going to make it through the whole night, Y/N. I bet you wish you’d taken up Nott’s offer to be your date this time, huh? Now that you don’t have anyone to lean on if your feet get too tired?”

“There’s something called taking my shoes off if they hurt too much,” she responded. “And I could never regret that--I know he only did it because his mother told him to. Something about a favor for my mother after we saved her at a gala, I’m sure.”

“Also the fact that Millie would crucify you if she saw you with him.”

Y/N laughed. “That too. Imagine being a Hufflepuff who accidentally put a target on her back…”

“You’d be dead.”

“But very, very stylish. And if I died, my feet wouldn’t hurt anymore.”

Ginny tutted at her. “So morbid.”

The staircase had finally turned to their stop, and before the two girls had a chance to get off, Y/N heard a voice call out for her companion.

“Ginny! Hey, Ginny!”

“Harry!” 

She pulled Y/N up the last few steps and deposited her safely on the corridor platform before bounding off towards Harry and Luna at the opposite end of the hall. They must’ve come from a different direction. “I’ll catch up with you at the party, ok?”

Y/N just beamed at her friend as she closed the difference between her and Harry, pulling both him and Luna around the corner towards the music and sound of the party. If it was anyone else, she might’ve been offended, but she knew how much Harry meant to her. Even if Ginny didn’t know it yet. And Y/N would not, under any circumstance, slow her friend down because of her poor footwear choices.

She dusted her dress off before making her way further down the hall. It was slower going without the prospect of a steadying hand next to her, but it was getting easier. Maybe the balm she’d used on the leather really was softening with each step she took like it said on the box. 

Before she lifted the curtain to walk into the jovial evening, a flash of blond hair caught her eye. Platinum blond hair--the type that only belonged to one person she knew. 

“Malfoy?” 

His head snapped up from its previous spot on his knees that were folded up on the floor. The Slytherin was obscured by the darkness and the dividing wall that had been erected in the corridor, but Y/N was completely sure of what she was seeing.

She crept closer, inwardly cringing at the sound her heels made as they clacked across the stones. 

“Need anything, Y/L/N?” he drawled. Once she was close enough to see his face clearly, his expression made it clear that he was not in a good mood. Not like he ever was, though. 

“Why are you...er...just sitting here?” Fuck. She sounded so ditzy.

“Enjoying my Friday night.”

“Oh...ok.” Y/N swallowed. “You were invited to Slughorn’s party?” 

He shrugged. 

Her mouth felt dry. Obviously, he hadn’t been invited. Slughorn was notorious for wanting to keep a squeaky clean image, and entertaining the idea of inviting a Death Eater’s son was...out of question. And he never tried in his class anymore.

She dared another look down at him and nearly squeaked when she saw him staring directly back at her. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve at least told him goodbye or goodnight, but her words completely failed her. Instead, she just stared back, completely frozen. 

She couldn’t help it. Ever since last fall, she couldn’t act normal around him to save her life. Not after...that. 

A cat meowed in the distance, breaking whatever was paralyzing her. 

“I...I have to go. I think that’s Filch.” 

He said nothing--just tilted his head and raised an eyebrow like he was expecting something from her. She spun and walked as quickly as she could manage without breaking an ankle.

“What took you so long, Y/N?” Ginny asked the moment the curtain fell behind her, closing her back into the party. The tent that was magically set up was much more spacious than she was expecting, and the lime and peach coloring was surprisingly bright and cheery.

“I...uh…”

Her explanation was cut short by the sound of the entrance curtain being shoved aside with so much force that the nearest tables shook, the fine china clattering. 

Filch stood in front of them, holding a very peeved looking Draco Malfoy by the scruff of his neck. “Found this boy loitering around outside. I don’t imagine that he’s been invited to your party here.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Professor Snape appeared to her left, his robes billowing black behind him as he made his way towards the pair.

“Ok, ok, I admit it, I wasn’t--”

“Draco! Where have you been?” 

The words were out of her mouth before she even had the chance to think of the heavy, heavy regret that weighed down at her the moment they were spoken--not to mention the foreign feeling of the name “Draco” instead of Malfoy on her tongue. The tension in the room was tangible as Y/N took a few tentative steps forward. Snape whipped around to glare at her with a look that contained so much venom that it nearly stunned her.

“Miss Y/L/N? What’s going on?” Her sweet Potions professor materialized behind her. Y/N felt a twinge in her gut at what she was about to say--if she followed through, he probably wouldn’t ever give her the scroll of recommendation she wanted. “Did you invite him?”

Oh well. Here goes.

She drew in a shaky breath. “Yes. He’s my...uh...date tonight.”

Ginny spun around and sent her a death glare that said oh you are so telling me about this right now. 

Filch released his grip on Malfoy’s neck, shoving him forward into the crowd. Y/N met his eyes for a brief second, and the only emotion she could register was shock. And anger.

“Fine. Dumbledore will be hearing about this, though. And tell your date to stop breaking curfew in restricted areas.” 

With that, the curtain fell back and Filch was gone, leaving Y/N in the throes of her own despair. Malfoy was just a few feet away from her now, standing in all his gloomy glory. And she’d just told everyone that he was her date.

The music started up again, the strings echoing around the still room. A few couples hesitantly started dancing again, and the roar of conversation slowly picked back up to where it left off. Y/N and Malfoy were the only ones not doing something...coupley. 

“So,” said Malfoy. The sigh that followed was completely unreasonable. “I think you’re supposed to tell me to stop breaking curfew in restricted areas sometime soon.”

She gulped. “Yeah. That.”

He held out his hand, slow and gingerly like he was about to touch a hot stove. Y/N just gawked at it.

“We should probably dance. Or something. I don’t think you’re being a very believable date right now.” 

Y/N grabbed his hand and let him pull her into the mess of couples. It felt like her mind had taken a complete vacation. What had happened? How had this night ended up this way? “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she started.

“Yeah, well, me neither.” He was practiced and comfortable as he guided her through the steps of whatever waltz was playing. Y/N never paid much attention when she was young to the dance lessons that her parents painstakingly put her through--and it was clear from how much she needed to depend on him. Her shoes didn’t help, 

“Ginny is going to fucking kill me,” she said suddenly. 

“You think?” he said, his tone flat. “Why’d you say I was your date? Were you that desperate for someone?”

“I…” The words died on her tongue as she tried to get them out. Malfoy spun her as she clung to the silk lapel of his suit, hanging on for dear life as her heels teetered. “You know why.” 

If he had any strong thoughts on the matter, he didn’t let it show on his face. He simply let his gaze flicker down at her for a second before he dipped her. “You know, in my world we don’t really return favors. If I were you, I would stop trying to repay me. There’s no point.”

“There doesn’t need to be one. I just…”

“Just worry about yourself, okay? I don’t need you to be stirring up your own drama with fruitless attempts to pay me back. I’m perfectly capable on my own.”

“I’m not doubting how capable you are! I’m just being a fair person!”

“Nothing about any of this is fair,” he snipped. “It doesn’t matter what you do. You’re not going to set anything right. You should know better, anyways. You shouldn’t be trying to help me. I’m surprised Potter isn’t teaching you this.”

Y/N’s cheeks grew hot while the song slowly creaked to the end. “Malfoy--” 

“I’m going to get us drinks.” He dropped her hand and was gone before another word could leave her lips.

It took Ginny no more than a minute to have her friend cornered in a quiet spot of the tent, her eyes glittering. “When were you going to tell me that you were going to ask Malfoy to be your date?”

“I didn’t,” Y/N told her. She decided that she might as well be truthful. “I just felt bad for him. Snape seemed like he was in a bad mood, and I don’t want to put him through that. I don’t want to put anyone through that.”

“Ugh, you are such a Hufflepuff,” her friend groaned. “I can’t believe you. You’re kind to a fault sometimes, you know.”

“What’s the harm, Gin?” asked Y/N. “He can’t hurt me. He’s not all that bad. He’s just a prat sometimes.”

“Can’t hurt you--oh, dear.” Ginny let out a shaky breath and ran her fingers through her hair, messing up the pinned portions. Y/N resisted the urge to cringe at the sight. “Hasn’t Harry told you? You need to stay away from Malfoy. He’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” increduled Y/N. “No way. He’s all bark, no bite. The worst thing he’s going to do is tell me that Hufflepuffs are stupid or something.”

“Y/N.” The intensity of Ginny’s voice made her snap to attention. “You really don’t know, do you? I can’t tell you now. But I’m sure Harry will later. Just...promise me you won’t let him get you alone? Ok? And please don’t do any other favors for him. You’ll understand later.”

They both turned at the sound of a male clearing his throat. Malfoy stood, uncomfortable and broody, carrying two goblets. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, not at all!” said Ginny, weirdly cheery. She leaned in, feigning to kiss Y/N’s cheek goodbye, but instead she whispered, “Don’t drink that.” And then she was gone.

“Trouble in paradise with Weaselette?” he asked.  

She took the goblet and faked taking a sip. “Er, no. Why do you ask?”

“You look awfully pale, my dear.” 

“It’s just the draft,” she told him, but in truth she knew that her face was suddenly flaming red again. 

“Hm.” He, on the contrary, took a real, genuine sip out of his goblet. “Want to sit down somewhere? I’m thinking I probably going to want to get out of here soon.”

“To each their own,” responded Y/N. She was slowly becoming warier after Ginny’s speech. There’s no way he would...no...not after what he did for her. “I’m staying around until I get Slughorn to talk to me, personally. I want him to really like me.”

“That old bat? I’m sure he already likes you, if he’s inviting you here and all.”

“I don’t think he likes me, per se. I think he just likes who my family rubs elbows with.”

A rare smile stretched across Malfoy’s face, but it didn’t seem sweet. “Ah, I remember your family now. If I recall correctly, your mother used to come do fittings for my mother?”

“Um, yeah. I believe so.” Y/N attempted to smile back, but something in her felt...off. What didn’t she know about Malfoy? Was he actually capable of hurting her? Did he want to hurt her?

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Malfoy said after a few beats of silence. “Unless you’d like to join my thrilling pursuits with breaking curfew in restricted areas, I’d better be off.”

“Malfoy…” Y/N started. She had no idea what else to tell him. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, sending her another one of those sly smiles that made her stomach turn. “Enjoy the rest of your night, alright?”

She made a sorry attempt to smile back. He kept looking down at her, so intently that it made her uncomfortable. He was thinking--about what, she couldn’t determine. But clearly it was something, and the gears were turning.

“May I suggest something?” His eyes glinted in the dim party lighting. Malfoy seemed to take her silence and wide-eyed stare as a yes, leaning in closer so quickly that she didn’t even have a chance to spring away.

“You’re supposed to swallow when you fake drinking something.”

He plucked the goblet out of her hand and took a sip, raising an eyebrow at her as if to say see? 

Even long after he was gone, she could still feel his hot breath on her neck and hear the way his whispered voice sounded in her ear. 

final a/n: hehe here i am 1 minute late!! probably later once i get all my links set up/copy paste all my tags but here it is! this is a TEASER! so remember that! i hope to get the real oneshot out sometime after i get wonders of ohio p 10 out. let me know if this is something you guys want to read/if you like this version of draco. i rlly want to write a flirtier draco because i think we could all use that right now

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfic #draco malfoy fanfic #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco #draco malfoy

[michaelbogild]

Lines by Bruce Springsteen

Shithole on the corner, no light, no sign Nobody on the street except the deaf, dumb, and blind

Now your death is upon us, and we'll return your ashes to the earth And I know you'll take comfort in knowing you've been roundly blessed and cursed

Some girls, they want a handsome Dan Or some good-lookin' Joe on their arm Some girls like a sweet-talkin' Romeo Well, 'round here, baby I learned you get what you can get So if you're rough enough for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

Can't see nothing in front of me Can't see nothing coming up behind Make my way through this darkness I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me Lost track of how far I've gone How far I've gone, how high I've climbed On my back's a sixty pound stone On my shoulder, a half-mile line

A mother prays, "Sleep tight, my child, sleep well For I'll be at your side That no shadow, no darkness, no tolling bell Shall pierce your dreams this night"

Tonight we'll sing the songs I'll dream of you, my corazón And tomorrow my heart will be strong And may the saints blessing and grace Carry me safely into your arms There, across the border

We are alive And though our bodies lie alone here in the dark Our spirits rise To carry the fire and light the spark To stand shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart

The condition you're in Now you just can't get out of this skin

The hurricane blows, brings a hard rain When the blue sky breaks, it feels like the world's gonna change We'll start caring for each other like Jesus said that we might I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

You shot through my anger and rage To show me my prison was just an open cage There were no keys no guards Just one frightened man and some old shadows for bars

You gave your love to see In fields of red and autumn brown You gave your love to me And lay your young body down

If the angels are unkind or the season is dark Or if in the end Love just falls apart Then here's to our destruction Baby let me be your soul driver

I know we're different you and me Got a different way of walking The time has come to let the past be history Yeah, if we could just start talking

I chased the heat of her blood Like it was the holy grail Descend beautiful spirit Into the evening pale Her appaloosa's Kicking in the corral smelling rain There's a low thunder rolling Across the mesquite plain

The dust of civilizations and love's sweet remains Slip off of your fingers and come drifting down like rain The pages of Revelation lie open in your empty eyes of blue I watch you slip that comb through your hair and this, I promise you, I'll work for your love, dear

Tend to your flock or they will stray We'll be called for our service come judgment day Before we cross that river wide The blood on our hands will come back on us twice

Bird on a wire outside my motel room But he ain't singing Girl in white outside a church in June But the church bells ain't ringing I'm sitting here in this bar tonight But all I'm thinking Is I'm the same old story, same old act One step up and two steps back

Goodbye, my darling For your love, I give God thanks, Meet me on the Matamoros banks

Trees on fire with the first fall's frost Long black line in front of Holy Cross Blood moon rising in a sky of black dust Tell me baby, who do you trust?

He saw the watcher at the city gates Jonah in the belly of a whale He watched you walk your ragged mile His mercy it did not fail

I got somethin' in my heart, I been waitin' to give I got a life I wanna start, one I been waitin' to live No more waitin', tonight I feel the light I say the prayer I open the door, I climb the stairs

Yeah funny, I thought I felt a sweet summer breeze Must have been you sighing so deep, Don't worry, we're going to find a way

So you been broken and you been hurt Show me somebody who ain't Yeah I know I ain't nobody's bargain But hell a little touchup And a little paint

Tires on the highway hissing that something's coming You can feel the wires in the tree tops humming Devil's on the horizon line Your kiss and I'm alive

Mister trouble come walkin' this way Year gone past feels like one long day But I'm alive and I'm feelin' all right Well I run that hard road outta hearbreak city Built a roadside carnival out of hurt and self-pity It was all wrong well now I'm movin' on

Band's counting out midnight Floor's rumbling loud Singer's calling up daylight And waiting for that shout from the crowd

Remember the morning we dug up your gun The worms in the barrel, the hanging sun Those first nervous evenings of perfume and gin The lost smell on your breath as I helped you get it in The rush of your lips, the feel of your name The beat in your heart, the devil's arcade

You're looking for the key of that box you locked yourself in

I hold my breath and close my eyes And I wait for paradise

The road is dark And it's a thin thin line But I want you to know I'll walk it for you any time Maybe your other boyfriends Couldn't pass the test Well, if you're rough and ready for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

Well now on a summer night in a dusky room Come a little piece of the Lord's undying light Crying like he swallowed the fiery moon In his mother's arms it was all the beauty I could take Like the missing words to some prayer that I could never make In a world so hard and dirty so fouled and confused Searching for a little bit of God's mercy I found living proof

Now it's some old Stones' song the band is trashin' But if you feel like dancin', baby, I'm askin'

I got seven pictures of Buddha The prophet's on my tongue Eleven angels of mercy Sighing over that black hole in the sun My heart's dark but it's rising I'm pulling all the faith I can see From that black hole on the horizon I hear your voice calling me

So tell me what I see when I look in your eyes Is that you baby or just a brilliant disguise

I wanna build me a house, on higher ground I wanna find me a world, where love's the only sound High above this road, filled with shadow and doubt I want to shoulder my load, and figure it all out With Leah

But love and duty called you some place higher Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

Hard times, baby well they come to us all Sure as the ticking of the clock on the wall Sure as the turning of the night into day Your smile girl, brings the morning light to my eyes Lifts away the blues when I rise I hope that you're coming to stay

I heard somebody call your name from underneath our willow I saw something tucked in shame underneath your pillow Well I've tried so hard baby but I just can't see What a woman like you is doing with me

Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true But you and I know what this world can do So let's make our steps clear that the other may see And I'll wait for you If I should fall behind Wait for me

Now I was young and pretty on the mean streets of the city And I fought to make 'em my home With just the shirt on my back I left and swore I'd never look back And man I was gone gone gone But there's things that'll knock you down you don't even see coming And send you crawling like a baby back home You're gonna find out that day, sugar

She sits on the porch of her daddy's house Oh but honey your pretty dress is torn She stared off alone into the night With the eyes of one who hates for just being born

Well here's to your good looks baby now here's to my health Here's to the loaded places that we take ourselves When it comes to luck you make your own Tonight I got to dirt on my hands but I'm building me a new home

My father said, "Son, we're lucky in this town It's a beautiful place to be born It just wraps its arms around you Nobody crowds you, and nobody goes it alone"

In the darkness my fingers slip across your skin I feel your sweet reply The room fades away and suddenly I'm way up high Just holdin' you to me As through the window the moonlight streams Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

Well it's never too late so come on girl The tables are waiting You and me and lady luck well tonight We'll be celebrating Drinkin' champagne on ice In just another roll of the dice

Same old faces it's the same old town What once was laughs is draggin' me now Waitin' on rain hangin' on for love Words of forgiveness from some God above Ain't no words of mercy comin' from on high Oh no just a long goodbye

We've given each other some hard lessons lately We ain't learning We're the same sad story, that's a fact One step up and two steps back

Taj Mahal, the pyramids of Egypt are unique, I suppose But when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

I need you to chase these blues away Without you, I'm a drummer girl that can't keep a beat, Ice cream truck on a deserted street

Good times got a way of slipping away

It's the same thing night on night Who's wrong baby who's right Another fight and I slam the door On another battle in our dirty little war

Is dry lightning on the horizon line Just dry lightning and you on my mind

The day rips apart A dark and bloody arrow pierced my heart

There's a cross up yonder on Calvary Hill There's a slip of blood on a silver knife There's a graveyard kid down below Where at night the dead come to life

My soul went walkin' but I stayed here Feel like I been workin' for a thousand years Chippin' away at this chain of my own lies Climbin' a wall a hundred miles high Well I woke up this morning on the other side Yeah yeah this is the long goodbye

Now sometimes tomorrow comes soaked in treasure and blood Here we stood the drought, now we'll stand the flood There's a new world coming, I can see the light I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

I'm trudging through the dark in a world gone wrong I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

Now, when all this steel and these stories Drift away to rust And all our youth and beauty Has been given to the dust When the game has been decided And we're burnin' down the clock And all our little victories and glories Have turned into parking lots

The rain it keeps on falling on twisted bones and dirt I'm buried to my heart here in this hurt

These are better days baby Yeah there's better days shining through These are better days baby Better days with a girl like you

Now I ply my trade in the land of king dollar Where you get paid and your silence passes as honor And all the hatred and dirty little lies Been written off the books and into decent men's eyes

Well, darling if you're weary Lay your head upon my chest We'll take what we can carry Yeah, and we'll leave the rest

Give me help, give me strength Give a soul a night of fearless sleep Give me love, give me peace Don't you know these days you pay for everything

Where're the eyes, the eyes with the will to see Where're the hearts that run over with mercy Where's the love that has not forsaken me Where's the work that set my hands, my soul free Where's the spirit that'll reign, reign over me Where's the promise from sea to the shining sea

Been on a barbed wire highway 40 days and nights I ain't complaining, it's my job and it suits me right I got a sweet soft fever rushing around my head I'm gonna sleep tonight in Maria's bed

Baby, once I thought I knew Everything I needed to know about you Your sweet whisper, your tender touch I didn't really know that much Joke's on me, but it's going to be okay If I can just get through this lonesome day

Ain't no mercy on the streets of this town Ain't no bread from heavenly skies Ain't nobody drawin' wine from this blood It's just you and me tonight

I knew some day your running would be through and you'd think back on me and you And your love would be strong You'd forget all about the bad and think only of all the laughs that we had And you'd wanna come home Well, now it ain't hard feelings or nothing, sugar That ain't what's got me singing this song It's just nobody knows baby where love goes But when it goes it's gone gone

Dark and bloody autumn pierces my heart The memory of your kiss tears me apart The sky above is turning, the world below's gone gray I thought that I could turn and walk away

Einstein and Shakespeare Sitting having a beer Einstein trying to figure out the number that adds up to this Shakespeare said, "Man it all starts with a kiss" Einstein is scratching Numbers on his napkin Shakespeare said, "Man, it's just one and one make three Ah, that's why it's poetry"

Your sweet memory comes on the evening wind I sleep and dream of holding you in my arms again The lights of Brownsville across the river shine A shout rings out, into the silty red river, I dive

Seven days, seven candles In my window, light your way Your favorite record's on the turntable I drop the needle and pray

Well, the piss yellow sun Comes bringing up the day She said "Ain't nobody can give nobody What they really need anyway"

Your voice comes calling through the mist I awake from a dream and my heart begins to drift

I'll hammer the nails and I'll set the stone I'll harvest your crops when they're ripe and grown I'll pull that engine apart and patch her up 'til she's running right I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

I want a thousand guitars I want pounding drums I want a million different voices speaking in tongues

Out where the sky's been cleared by a good hard rain There's somebody callin' my secret name

Blood on the streets Yeah, blood flowing down I hear the blood of my blood Crying from the ground

Well, it ought to be easy, it ought to be simple enough Yeah, man meets woman and they fall in love But this house is haunted and the ride gets rough You've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above If you want to ride on down, down in through this tunnel of love

You said, "Heroes are needed, so heroes get made" Somebody made a bet, somebody paid The cool desert morning and nothing to save Just metal and plastic where your body caved

Well I took a piss at fortune's sweet kiss It's like eatin' caviar and dirt It's sad funny ending to find yourself pretending A rich man in a poor man's shirt

In the late afternoon sun fills the room with a mist in the garden before the fall I watch your hands smooth the front of your blouse and seven drops of blood fall

I'm standing in the backyard Listening to the party inside Tonight I'm drinkin' in the forgiveness This life provides

We've got no fairytale ending In God's hands our fate is complete Your heaven's here in my heart Our love's this dust beneath my feet

Billy felt a coldness rise up inside him that he couldn't name Just as the words tattooed 'cross his knuckles he knew would always remain At their bedside, he brushed the hair from his wife's face as the moon shone on her skin so white Filling their room in the beauty of God's fallen light

Now Tom said, "Mom, wherever there's a cop beating a guy Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries Where there's a fight against the blood and hatred in the air Look for me, Mom, I'll be there

Well tonight I just wanna shout I feel my soul waist deep and sinking Into this black river of doubt I just wanna rise and walk along the riverside And when the morning comes baby I don't wanna hide I'll stand right at your side with my arms open wide

Hands me two tickets, smiles and whispers good luck Well cuddle up angel, cuddle up my little dove We'll ride down baby into this tunnel of love

Everything is everything But you're missing

Where the distant oceans sing and rise to the plains In this dry and troubled country, your beauty remains Down from the mountain roads where the highway rolls to dark Beneath Allah's blessed rain, we remain worlds apart

The moon is high and here I am Sittin' here with this hammer in hand One more drink oughta ease the pain Starin' at that last link in the chain Well let's raise our glass and let the hammer fly Hey yeah this is the long goodbye

Baby let's get our bags packed We'll take it here to hell and heaven and back And if love is hopeless hopeless at best Come on put on your party dress it's ours tonight And we're going with the tumblin' dice

I got a cold mind to go tripping across that thin line I'm sick of doing straight time

There's a girl across the bar I get the message she's sending Hmm she ain't looking too married Me well honey I'm pretending Last night I dreamed I held you in my arms The music was never ending We danced as the evening sky faded to black One step up and two steps back

Well the highway is alive tonight But nobody's kidding nobody about where it goes I'm sitting down here in the campfire light Searching for the ghost of Tom Joad

I got my finger on the trigger But I don't know who to trust When I look into your eyes There's just devils and dust

Well now his kisses may thrill Those other girls that he likes But when it comes to treatin' A real woman right Well all of his tricks No they won't be enough 'Cause lovin' you baby lovin' you woman Lovin' you darlin' is a man's man's job

There was a woman waiting at the well Drawing water beneath a desert sky of blue She said "He'll heal the blind, raise the dead Cure the sickness out of you"

I been knocking on the door that holds the throne I been looking for the map that leads me home I been stumbling on good hearts turned to stone The road of good intentions has gone dry as a bone

Wherever somebody's fighting for a place to stand Or a decent job or a helping hand Wherever somebody's struggling to be free Look in their eyes, Ma, and you'll see me"

Tell me in a world without pity Do you think what I'm askin's too much? I just want something to hold on to And a little of that human touch

Tell me someone, what's the price I want to buy some time and maybe live my life I want to have a wife, I want to have some kids I want to look in their eyes and know they'll stand a chance

Well, your desires for your sweet confusion I'll walk away then, I don't buy your delusions

She gave me candy stick kisses 'neath a wolf-dog moon One sweet breath and she'll take you, mister, to the upper room I was burned by the angels, sold wings of lead Then I fell in the roses and sweet salvation of Maria's bed

It's a fairytale so tragic There's no prince to break the spell I don't believe in magic But for you, I will

Now a life of leisure and a pirate's treasure Don't make much for tragedy But it's a sad man my friend who's livin' in his own skin And can't stand the company. Every fool's got a reason for feelin' sorry for himself And turning his heart to stone Tonight this fool's halfway to heaven and just a mile outta hell And I feel like I'm comin' home

Is it the sound of the leaves left blown by the wayside That's got me out here on this spooky old highway tonight Is it the cry of the river with the moonlight shining through That ain't what scares me baby, what scares me is losing you

Darlin' give me your kiss Come and take my hand I am the nothing man

Now there's a loss that can never be replaced A destination that can never be reached A light you'll never find in another's face A sea whose distance cannot be breached

They destroyed our families, factories And they took our homes They left our bodies on the plains The vultures picked our bones

Like a thief on Sunday morning It all falls apart with no warning

I got the fortunes of heaven in diamonds and gold I got all the bonds baby that the bank could hold I got houses 'cross the country honey end to end And everybody buddy wants to be my friend Well I got all the riches baby any man ever knew But the only thing I ain't got, honey, I ain't got you

Gray morning light spits through the shade Another day older, closer to the grave Closer to the grave and come the dawn I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

Now you play the loving woman, I'll play the faithful man But just don't look too close into the palm of my hand Well we stood at the alter, the gypsy swore our future was right But come the wee wee hours maybe baby the gypsy lied

You walk real pretty and you talk real fine But night after night babe I'm on the line

I'm counting on a miracle

Dancing down a dark hole Just searching for a world with some soul

Gambling man rolls the dice, workingman pays the bill It's still fat and easy up on banker's hill Up on banker's hill, the party's going strong Down here below we're shackled and drawn

Well, Jesus kissed his mother's hands Whispered, "Mother, still your tears For remember the soul of the universe Willed a world and it appeared

Come to the door, Ma, and unlock the chain I was just passing through and got caught in the rain There's nothing that I want, nothing that you need say Just let me lie down for a while and I'll be on my way

Your world keeps turning round and round But everything is upside down Your own worst enemy has come to town

Shackled and drawn, shackled and drawn Pick up the rock son, carry it on What's a poor boy to do in a world gone wrong? I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

And though my heart's grown weary And more than a little bit shy Tonight I'll drink from her waters to quench my thirst And leave the angels to worry With every wish

Rode through forty nights of the gospels' rain Black sky pourin' snakes frogs And love in vain You were down where the river grows wider Baby let me be your soul driver

Don't worry, darling No baby, don't you fret We're living in the future And none of this has happened yet

There's a lot of talk going around you Let them talk, you know you're the only one There's a lot of walls need tearing down Together we could take them down one by one

I could smell the same deep green of summer Above me the same night sky was glowing In the distance I could see the town where I was born

Oh feelin' like a real man I ain't no fighter that's easy to see And as a lover I ain't goin' down in history But when the lights go down and you pull me close Well I look in your eyes and there's one thing I know Baby I'll be tough enough If I can find the guts to give you all my love Then I'll be feelin' like a real man

I hold you in my arms as the band plays What are those words whispered baby just as you turn away I saw you last night out on the edge of town I wanna read your mind to know just what I've got in this new thing I've found

Maybe I'm just a clown throwin' down Lookin' to come up busted I'm a thief in the house of love And I can't be trusted Well I'll be makin' my heist In just another roll of the dice

Now I see your pieces crumbled, and our book of faith's been tossed And I'm just down here searching for my own piece of the cross

Pockets full of dust, my mouth filled with cool stone The pale moon opens the earth to its bones

raise your hand And together we'll walk into Canaan land

On the plains of Jordan I cut my bow from the wood Of this tree of evil Of this tree of good

Well my soul checked out missing as I sat listening To the hours and minutes tickin' away Yeah just sittin' around waitin' for my life to begin While it was all just slippin' away I'm tired of waitin' for tomorrow to come Or that train to come roarin' 'round the bend I got a new suit of clothes a pretty red rose And a woman I can call my friend

From a house on a hill a sacred light shines I walk through these rooms but none of them are mine Down empty hallways I went from door to door Searching for my beautiful reward

A little sweet talk to cover over all of the lies You came runnin' back but to my surprise Well there was somethin' gone in Gloria's eyes

Last night I stood at your doorstep Tryna figure out what went wrong You just slipped something into my palm, and you were gone

I sink beneath the river cool and clear Drifting down, I disappear I see you on the other side I search for the peace in your eyes

I had some victory that was just failure in deceit Now the joke's comin' up through the soles of my feet I been a long time walking on fortune's cane Tonight I'm sleepin' lightly and feelin' no pain

Better ask questions before you shoot Deceit and betrayal's a bitter fruit It's hard to swallow, come time to pay That taste on your tongue don't easily slip away Thy kingdom come, I'm going to find my way Yeah, through this lonesome day

Well there in the high trees love's bluebird glides Guiding us 'cross to another river on the other side And there someone is waitin' with a look in her eyes

Oh girl that feeling of safety you prize Well it comes with a hard hard price You can't shut off the risk and pain Without losin' the love that remains We're all riders on this train

I walk this road, with a hammer and a fiery lantern With this hand I've built, and with this I've burned I wanna live in the same house, beneath the same roof Sleep in the same bed, search for the same proof As Leah

I built a shrine in my heart it wasn't pretty to see Made out of fool's gold memory and tears cried Now I'm heading over the rise I'm searching for one clear moment of love and truth I still got a little faith But what I need is some proof tonight I'm lookin' for it in your eyes

I been out in the desert, yeah, doing my time Sifting through the dust for fool's gold, looking for a sign Holy man said "Hold on, brother, there's a light up ahead" Ain't nothing like a light that shines on me in Maria's bed

They say if you die in your dreams, you really die in your bed But honey last night I dreamed my eyes rolled straight back in my head And God's light came shinin' on through I woke up in the darkness scared and breathin' and born anew It wasn't the cold river bottom I felt rushing over me It wasn't the bitterness of a dream that didn't come true It wasn't the wind in the grey fields I felt rushing through my arms No no baby, baby it was you

Now if you're lookin' for a hero Someone to save the day Well darlin' my feet They're made of clay But I've got somethin' in my soul And I wanna give it up But gettin' up the nerve Gettin' up the nerve Gettin' up the nerve is a man's man's job

If the sun should fall from the sky tomorrow If the rain brings the tears to your eye, I would share your sorrow

I've stumbled and I know I made my mistakes But tonight I'm gonna be playin' for all of the stakes

Well, no cannonball did fly, no rifles cut us down No bombs fell from the sky, no blood soaked the ground No powder flash blinded the eye No deathly thunder sounded But just as sure as the hand of God They brought death to my hometown

With these hands We pray for the strength, Lord

On the road to Basra stood young Lieutenant Jimmy Bly Detailed to go through the clothes of the soldiers who died At night in dreams he sees their souls rise Like dark geese into the Oklahoma skies

Well your hair shone in the sun I was so high I was the lucky one Then I came crashing down like a drunk on a barroom floor Searching for my beautiful reward

I'll mow your lawn, clean the leaves out your drain I'll mend your roof to keep out the rain I'll take the work that God provides I'm a Jack of all trades, honey, we'll be alright

Past the playgrounds and empty switching yards The turtles eat the skin from your eyes, so they lay open to the stars

Me and my girl Saturday night Late movie on channel five The girls were droppin' they're droppin' like flies To some smooth talkin' cool walkin' private eye I ain't got no nerves of steel But all I got to know is if your love is real

Sleeping beauty awakes from her dream With her lover's kiss on her lips Your kiss was taken from me Now all I have is this

I put my heart and soul I put 'em high upon a shelf Right next to the faith the faith that I'd lost in myself I went down into the desert city Just tryin' so hard to shed my skin I crawled deep into some kind of darkness Lookin' to burn out every trace of who I'd been You do some sad sad things baby When it's you you're tryin' to lose You do some sad and hurtful things I've seen living proof

It was dark, too dark to see You held me in the light you gave You lay your hand on me Then walked into the darkness of your smoky grave

My life's the same story Again and again I' m on the outside looking in

My ship Liberty sailed away On a bloody red horizon The groundskeeper opened the gates And let the wild dogs run

Now you were the Red Sea I was Moses I kissed you and slipped into a bed of roses The waters parted and love rushed inside I was Jesus' son sanctified

Now the sweet bells of mercy Drift through the evening trees Young men on the corner Like scattered leaves

Around here everybody acts the same Around here everybody acts like nothing's changed

Oh there's somethin' in your soul That he's gonna rob And lovin' you baby lovin' you darlin' Lovin' you woman is a man's man's job

Well now all that's sure on the boulevard Is that life is just a house of cards As fragile as each and every breath Of this boy sleepin' in our bed

He pulls a prayer book out of his sleeping bag Preacher lights up a butt and he takes a drag Waiting for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last In a cardboard box 'neath the underpass

Now the world is filled with many wonders under the passing sun And sometimes something comes along, and you know it's for sure the only one The Mona Lisa, the David, the Sistine Chapel, Jesus, Mary, and Joe And when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

You said my act was funny but we both knew what was missing, honey

Tonight I can feel the cold wind at my back I'm flying high over gray fields my feathers long and black Down along the river's silent edge I soar Searching for my beautiful reward

Now get yourself a song to sing and sing it till you're done Sing it hard and sing it well Send the robber barons straight to hell

I'm just a lonely pilgrim, I walk this world in wealth I want to know if it's you I don't trust 'cause I damn sure don't trust myself

This is radio nowhere Is there anybody alive out there?

All over the world the rain was pourin' I was scratchin' where it itched Oh heartbreak and despair got nothing but boring So I grabbed you baby like a wild pitch

Tonight our bed is cold, I'm lost in the darkness of our love God have mercy on the man who doubts what he's sure of

Well I've been a losin' gambler Just throwin' snake eyes Love ain't got me downhearted I know up around the corner lies My fool's paradise In just another roll of the dice

The Virginia hills have gone to brown Another day, another sun going down I visit you in another dream

When they built you, brother, they turned dust into gold When they built you, brother, they broke the mold

It's coming on closing time Bartender, he's ringin' last call These days I don't stand on pride I ain't afraid to take a fall

They say you can't take it with you, but I think that they're wrong Because all I know is I woke up this morning, and something big was gone Gone into that dark ether where you're still young and hard and cold Just like when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

You'll be fine long as your pretty face holds out Then it's going to get pretty cold out

You and me we were the pretenders We let it all slip away In the end what you don't surrender Well the world just strips away

So when you look at me you better look hard and look twice Is that me baby or just a brilliant disguise

You can't sleep at night You can't dream your dream Your fingerprints on file Left clumsily at the scene

On his right hand, Billy'd tattooed the word "love", on his left hand was the word "fear" And in which hand he held his fate was never clear Come Indian summer, he took his young lover for his bride And with his own hands built her a great house down by the riverside

We've got God on our side We're just trying to survive What if what you do to survive Kills the things you love

Now my ass was draggin' when from a passin' gypsy wagon Your heart like a diamond shone Tonight I'm layin' in your arms carvin' lucky charms Out of these hard luck bones

It'll take your God-filled soul Fill it with devils and dust

I'm driving a big lazy car rushin' up the highway in the dark I got one hand steady on the wheel and one hand's tremblin' over my heart It's pounding baby like it's gonna bust right on through And it ain't gonna stop till I'm alone again with you

For all the blown-off strangers and hot rod angels Stumbling through this promised land Tonight my baby and me we're gonna ride to the sea And wash these sins off our hands

But they're as empty as paradise

Quiet afternoon in the empty house On the edge of the bed, you slip off your blouse The room is burning with the noon sun Your bittersweet taste on my tongue

Well now our old fears and failures, oh baby, they do linger Like the shadow of that ring that was on your finger

Well by Our Lady Of The Roses we lived in the shadow of the elms I remember ma dragging me and my sister up the street to the church whenever she heard those wedding bells Well would they ever look so happy again yeah the handsome groom and his bride As they stepped into that long black limousine for their mystery ride Well tonight you step away from me and alone at the alter I stand As I watch my bride coming down the aisle I pray for the strength to walk like a man

You got a one-way ticket to the promised land You got a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand Sleeping on a pillow of solid rock Bathing in the city's aqueduct

You might need somethin' to hold on to When all the answers they don't amount to much Somebody that you can just talk to And a little of that human touch

Easy street, a quick buck, and true lies Smiles as thin as those dusky blue skies

I'm running through the forest With this wolf at my heels My king is lost at midnight When the tower bells peal

Forty-one shots and we'll take that ride Across the bloody river to the other side Forty-one shots cut through the night You're kneeling over his body in the vestibule Praying for his life

Let your mind rest easy Sleep well my friend It's only our bodies that betray us in the end

Well now the years have gone and I've grown yeah from that seed you've sown But I didn't think there'd been so many steps I'd have to learn on my own Well I was young and I didn't know what to do when I saw your best steps stolen away from you Now I'll do what I can, I'll walk like a man And I'll keep on walking

I got a house full of Rembrandt and priceless art And all the little girls, they wanna tear me apart When I walk down the street, people stop and stare Well, you'd think I might be thrilled but baby I don't care 'Cause I got more good luck honey than old King Farouk But the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you

Coming from the city, coming from the wild I see a breathless army breaking like a cloud They're going to smother love, they're going to shoot your hopes Before the meek inherit they'll learn to hate themselves

Got on a dead man's suit and a smiling skull ring Lucky graveyard boots and a song to sing I keep my heart in my work, my troubles in my head And I keep my soul in Maria's bed

"Every cloud has a silver lining, every dog has his day" She said "Now don't say nothing If you don't have something nice to say

Now Billy was an honest man, he wanted to do what was right He worked hard to fill their lives with happy days and loving night Alone on his knees in the darkness for steadiness he'd pray For he knew in a restless heart the seed of betrayal lay

Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break Who'll be the last to die for a mistake

Well I awoke last night in the dark and dreamy deep From my head to my feet my body's gone stone cold There were worms crawling all around me My fingers scratching at an earth black and six foot low Alone in the blackness of my grave Alone I'd been left to die Then I heard voices calling all around me The earth rose above me My eyes filled with sky

Plastics, wire and your kiss The breath of eternity on your lips

For a while you'll go sparkling by Just another pretty thing on high

Don't know when this chance might come again Good times got a way of coming to an end

I search for you on the other side Where the river runs clean and wide Up to my heart, the waters rise

Hell's brewing, dark sun's on the rise This storm will blow through, by and by House is on fire, vipers in the grass Little revenge and this too shall pass This too shall pass, darling, yeah I'm going to pray Right now, all I got is this lonesome day

I love to see your hair shining In the long summer's light I love to watch the stars fill the sky On a summer night The music plays you take his hand I watch how you touch him as you start to dance And I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

Rising from a long night as dark as the grave On a thin chain of next moments and something like faith

Ain't no church bells ringing Ain't no flags unfurled Just me and you and the love we're bringing Into the real world

A silver plate of pearls, my golden child It's all yours, at least for a little while

I got a picture of you in my locket I keep it close to my heart This light shining in my breast Leading me through the dark

The times, they got too clear So you removed all the mirrors Once the family felt secure Now no one's very sure

I've got my finger on the trigger And tonight faith just ain't enough When I look inside my heart There's just devils and dust

I feel my soul waist deep and sinking Into this black river of doubt

Where the road is dark and the seed is sowed Where the gun is cocked and the bullet's cold Where the miles are marked in blood and gold I'll meet you further on up the road

In the garden at Gethsemane He prayed for the life he'd never live He beseeched his Heavenly Father to remove The cup of death from his lips

I love to see the cottonwood blossom In the early spring I love to see the message of love That the bluebird brings But when I see you walkin' with him Down along the strand I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

I hold you in my arms, yeah that's when it starts I seek faith in your kiss and comfort in your heart Taste the seed upon your lips, lay my tongue upon your scars When I look into your eyes and we stand worlds apart

Now's there's tears on the pillow, darling, where we slept And you took my heart when you left Without your sweet kiss my soul is lost, my friend Tell me how do I begin again?

May your strength give us strength May your faith give us faith May your hope give us hope May your love give us love

We took the highway till the road went black We marked 'Truth Or Consequences' on our map

We'll let blood build a bridge over mountains draped in stars I'll meet you on the ridge between these worlds apart We've got this moment now to live, then it's all just dust and dark Let's let love give what it gives

Now no one knows which way love's wheel turns Will we hit it rich Or crash and burn Does fortune wait or just the black hand of fate This love potion's all we've got One toast before it's too late

And the things of the earth, they make their claim That the things of heaven may do the same

God's drifting in heaven, devil's in the mailbox I got dust on my shoes, nothing but teardrops

I got a pound of caviar sitting home on ice I got a fancy foreign car that rides like paradise I got a hundred pretty women knockin' down my door And folks wanna kiss me I ain't even seen before I been around the world and all across the seven seas Been paid a king's ransom for doin' what comes naturally But I'm still the biggest fool, honey, this world ever knew 'Cause the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you

But love is a power greater than death, just like the songs and stories told And when she built you, brother, she broke the mold

Well, big wheels roll through fields where sunlight streams Meet me in a land of hope and dreams

Alone I limp through town A lost cowboy at sundown Got my monkey on a leash Got my ear tuned to the ground My faith's been torn asunder Tell me is that rolling thunder Or just the sinking sound Of something righteous going under

Men walking 'long the railroad tracks Going someplace, there's no going back Highway patrol choppers coming up over the ridge Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge Shelter line stretching 'round the corner Welcome to the new world order Families sleeping in the cars in the southwest No home, no job, no peace, no rest

Sometimes the truth just ain't enough Or is it too much in times like this Let's throw the truth away, we'll find it in this kiss In your skin upon my skin in the beating of our hearts May the living let us in before the dead tear us apart

So hold me close honey, say you're forever mine And tell me you'll be my lonely valentine

There's spirits above and behind me Faces gone black, eyes burning bright May their precious blood bind me Lord, as I stand before your fiery light

Girl ain't no kindness in the face of strangers Ain't gonna find no miracles here Well you can wait on your blessings darlin' But I got a deal for you right here

Familiar faces around me Laughter fills the air Your loving grace surrounds me Everybody's here Furniture's out on the front porch Music's up loud I dream of you in my arms I lose myself in the crowd

Woke up election day Sky's gunpowder and shades of grey Beneath the dirty sun I whistle my time away Then just about sundown You come walking through town Your boot heels clicking like The barrel of a pistol spinning round

Well, it ain't no secret I've been around a time or two Well, I don't know baby maybe you've been around too Well, there's another dance All you gotta do is say yes And if you're rough and ready for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

The fuse is burning Shut out the lights The fuse is burning Come on let me do you right

When I look at myself I don't see The man I wanted to be Somewhere 'long the line I slipped off track I'm caught moving one step up and two steps back

Days just keep on falling Your voice it keeps on calling I'm going to dig right here until I get you back

I was driving through the misty rain Just a-searching for a mystery train Bopping through the wild blue Trying to make a connection with you

It's been a long long drought baby Tonight the rain's pourin' down on our roof Looking for a little bit of God's mercy I found living proof

I always loved the feel of sweat on my shirt Stand back son and let a man work

Well, it's Saturday night You're all dressed up in blue I been watching you awhile Maybe you been watching me, too So somebody ran out Left somebody's heart in a mess Well, if you're looking for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

It's been a long time coming, my dear It's been a long time coming, but now it's here

It takes a leap of faith to get things going It takes a leap of faith you gotta show some guts It takes a leap of faith to get things going In your heart you must trust

Fear's a powerful thing, baby It can turn your heart black, you can trust It'll take your God-filled soul And fill it with devils and dust

Well above the stars they crackle and fire A dead man's moon throws seven rings We'd put our ears to the cold grave stones This is the song they'd sing

A letter come blowing in On an ill wind Something about me and you Never seeing one another again And what I knew had come Stars struck deaf and dumb Like when we kissed That taste of blood on your tongue

The sun sets in flames as the city burns Another day gone down as the night turns And I hold you here in my heart As things fall apart

Now the ritual begins 'Neath the wedding garland we meet as strangers The dance floor is alive with beauty Mystery and danger We dance out 'neath the stars' ancient light into the darkening trees Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

For you I'll build a house High upon a grassy hill Somewhere across the border Where pain and memory Pain and memory have been stilled There, across the border And sweet blossoms fill the air Pastures of gold and green Roll down into cool clear waters And in your arms beneath open skies I'll kiss the sorrow from your eyes There, across the border

An endless stream of stars shooting by You got your hopes on high

I ain't lookin' for prayers or pity I ain't comin' 'round searchin' for a crutch I just want someone to talk to And a little of that human touch

World peace gonna break out From here on in, we're eating take out

Tonight the moon's looking young but I'm feelin' younger 'Neath a veil of dreams sweet blessings rain Honey I can feel the first breeze of summer And in your love I'm born again

I see you Mary in the garden In the garden of a thousand sighs There's holy pictures of our children Dancing in a sky filled with light

I got a big diamond watch sittin' on my wrist I try to tempt you, baby, but you just resist I made a deal with the devil, babe, I won't deny Until I got you in my arms, I can't be satisfied

And though this world is filled With the grace and beauty of God's hand Oh I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

The sky was falling And streaked with blood I heard you calling me Then you disappeared into the dust

Well, you get so sick of the fighting You lose your fear of the end But I can't lose your memory And the sweet smell of your skin

Love leaves nothin' but shadows and vapor We go on, as is our sad nature, baby

And we're walkin' on the wildside, runnin' down a one way street

You're dancin' with him he's holding you tight I'm standing here waitin' to catch your eye Your hand's on his neck as the music sways All my illusions slip away

If I'm going to live I'll lift my life Darling, to you

The scars we carry remain but the pain slips away it seems Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

So listen up, my sonny boy, be ready when they come For they'll be returning sure as the rising sun

I woke up this morning I could barely breathe Just an empty impression In the bed where you used to be I want a kiss from your lips I want an eye for an eye I woke up this morning to an empty sky

The earth, it gave away The sea rose towards the sun I opened up my heart to you It got all damaged and undone

May I feel your arms around me May I feel your blood mix with mine A dream of life comes to me Like a catfish dancing on the end of the line

Now your legs were heaven your breasts were the altar Your body was the holy land You shouted "jump" but my heart faltered You laughted and said "Baby don't you understand?"

I can't sleep so I lay awake listenin' to the sounds of the city below I get dressed and walk the streets but I got nowhere to go

Feelin' like a real man Well you can beat on your chest Hell any monkey can

These days I sit around and laugh At the many rivers I've crossed But on the far banks there's always another forest Where a man can get lost

We struggle here but all our love's in vain Oh these eyes that once filled me with your beauty Now fill me with pain And the light that once entered here Is banished from me And this darkness is all baby that my heart sees

Well if something in the air feels a little unkind Don't worry darlin' It'll slip your mind I'll be your gypsy joker your shotgun rider Baby let me be your soul driver

Well this is a prayer for the souls of the departed Those who've gone and left their babies brokenhearted

I was your big man I was your prince charming King on a white horse hey now look how far I've fallen I tried to trick you yeah but baby you got wise You cut me cut me right right down to size Now I'm just a fool in Gloria's eyes

I been up on sugar mountain, 'cross the sweet blue sea I walked the valley of love and tears and mystery I got run out'a luck and gave myself up for dead And I drank the cool clear waters from Maria's bed

And when that train comes we'll get on board And steal what we can from the treasures treasures of the Lord

A half-drunk beer and your breath in my ear At the Moonlight Motel

American beauty will you be mine Out on this highway counting white lines

And it’s all lies but I’m strung out on the wire In these streets of fire

and it’s one false move and baby the lights go out

And she’s so pretty that you’re lost in the star

And the world is busting at its seams And you’re just a prisoner of your dreams

And you’re in love with all the wonder it brings And every muscle in your body sings as the highway ignites

As you jockey your way through the cars And sit at the light, as it changes to green With your faith in your machine off you scream into the night

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet And a freight train running through the middle of my head

At night sometimes it seemed You could hear the whole damn city crying

Barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge Drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain

Blame it on the lies that killed us, Blame it on the truth that ran us down

But all her pretty dreams are torn, She stares off alone into the night

But I ride by night and I travel in fear That in this darkness I will disappear

But they said, “Johnny, it falls apart so easily, and you know hearts these days are cheap”

But tonight you’re gonna break on through to the inside

But your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold

Calling and calling so cold and alone Shining cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned

Dress in the latest rage

Driving all night, chasing some mirage

Eat at your insides and leave you face to face with Streets of fire

Everything dies baby that’s a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back

Explode and tear this old town apart Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart

For one kiss, darling I swear everything I would give Cause you’re a walking, talking reason to live

from the dark heart of a dream

From your front porch to my front seat, The door’s open but the ride ain’t free

He tried sellin’ his heart to the hard girls over on Easy Street

I don’t give a damn For the same old played out scenes Baby, I don’t give a damn For just the in-betweens Honey

I hear that whistle whining I feel her kiss in the misty rain And I feel like I’m a rider on a downbound train

I lie awake in the middle of the night Makin’ a list of things that I didn’t do right With you at the top of a long page filled

I see that lonely ribbon in your hair Tell me am I the man for whom you put it there

I took a wrong turn and I just kept going

I walk with angels that have no place

I’m a rolling stone just rolling on Catch me now ‘cause tomorrow I’ll be gone

I’m caught in a cross fire That I don’t understand

I’m twenty five hundred miles from where I wanna be It feels like a hundred years since you’ve been near to me

In this house it’s so easy to set a world on fire, All you need is the need and the money and a soul full of reckless desire

In this house the guilty go unpunished and blood and silence prevail, Here the dead remain nameless, the nameless remain jailed

It’s a long dark highway and a thin white line Connecting baby, your heart to mine, We’re runnin’ now but darlin’ we will stand in time

Just the false taste of paradise and then the fall

Kids flash guitars just like switch-blades

Let your hair down sugar and pick up this beat, Come on and meet me tonight down on Bluebird Street

Like soldiers in the winter’s night with a vow to defend No retreat, baby, no surrender

Lonely-hearted lovers  Struggle in dark corners   Soul engines running through a night so tender

Man I ain’t getting nowhere I’m just living in a dump like this There’s something happening somewhere baby I just know that there is

My brain takes a vacation just to give my heart more room

My kisses used to turn you inside out

Now the heart’s unsteady, and the night is still All I’ve got’s this melody, and time to kill

Oh-oh come take my hand, We’re riding out tonight to case the promised land, Oh-oh-oh-oh Thunder Road

Outside the street’s on fire In a real death waltz Between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy And the poets down here Don’t write nothing at all They just stand back and let it all be

Radio’s jammed up with talk show stations It’s just talk, talk, talk till you lose your patience

remember last summer drifting through our eyes

Show a little faith there’s magic in the night, You ain’t a beauty but hey you’re alright

So come close my pretty darling and let me feel your disease, Tonight I’ll have you naked and crawling at the end of my leash

So you fell for some jerk who was tall, dark and handsome Then he kidnapped your heart and now he’s holdin’ it for ransom

Sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull

Standing in that doorway like a dream

Talk about a dream Try to make it real You wake up in the night With a fear so real

That secret pact you made Back when her love could save you From the bitterness

That thunder in your heart At night when you’re kneeling in the dark It says you’re never gonna leave her But there’s this angel in her eyes That tells such desperate lies And all you want to do is believe her

The book of love holds its rules Disobeyed by fools

The hungry and the hunted Explode into rock'n'roll bands That face off against each other out in the street Down in Jungleland

The rat traps filled with soul crusaders, The circuits lined and jammed with chromed invaders

The screen door slams, Mary’s dress waves Like a vision, she dances across the porch As the radio plays Roy Orbison singing for the lonely, Hey that’s me and I want you only

The teenage tramps in skin-tight pants do the E Street dance

There were ghosts in the eyes Of all the boys you sent away, They haunt this dusty beach road In the skeleton frames of burned-out Chevrolets.

There’s a darkness on the edge of town

there’s a joke here somewhere and it’s on me

There’s a war outside still raging You say it ain’t ours anymore to win

Theres a sadness hidden in that pretty face, a sadness all her own, from which no man can keep Candy safe

These days you don’t wait on Romeo’s you wait on that welfare check

They say in the end true love prevails But in the end true love can’t be no fairytale

They say you gotta stay hungry hey baby I’m just about starving tonight

They scream your name at night in the street, Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet, And in the lonely cool before dawn, You hear their engines roaring on, When you get to the porch they’re gone On the wind

True love is broken and your tears are fallin’ faster You’re sufferin’ from a pain in your heart or some other natural disaster

Two hearts are better than one, Two hearts girl get the job done

Waiting for the bells that ring In the deep heart of the night

Waste your summer praying in vain, For a saviour to rise from these streets

We got married, and swore we’d never part Then little by little we drifted from each other’s hearts

We got one last chance to make it real, To trade in these wings on some wheels, Climb in back, Heaven’s waiting down on the tracks

We kiss, my hearts pumpin to my brain the blood rushes in my veins, when I touch Candys lips, We go driving, driving deep into the night, I go driving deep into the light, in Candys eyes

We shut ‘em up and than we shut ‘em down

we’re gonna ride to the sea And wash these sins off our hands.

Well I saw you last night down on the avenue Your face was in the shadows but I knew that it was you You were standin’ in the doorway out of the rain You didn’t answer when I called out your name You just turned, and then you looked away like just another stranger waitin’ to get blown away

Well the night’s busting open, These two lanes will take us anywhere

Well, everybody’s got a secret, Sonny, Something that they just can’t face, Some folks spend their whole lives trying to keep it, They carry it with them every step that they take.

Well, I believe in the love that you gave me I believe in the faith that can save me

Where we swore forever friends On the backstreets until the end

With a love so hard and filled with defeat

With her long hair falling And her eyes that shine like a midnight sun Oh she’s the one

Words were passed in a shotgun blast

You can hide 'neath your covers, And study your pain, Make crosses from your lovers, Throw roses in the rain

You can’t judge an apple by looking at a tree, You can’t judge honey by looking at the bee,  You can’t judge a daughter by looking at the mother, You can’t judge a book by looking at the cover

You don’t have to call me lieutenant, Rosie, and I don’t want to be your son

You end up like a dog that’s been beat too much Till you spend half your life just covering up

You inherit the sins, you inherit the flames, Adam raised a Cain

You know it’s never over, it’s relentless as the rain, Daddy worked his whole life, for nothing but the pain

You never smile girl, you never speak You just walk on by, darlin’, week after week

You pulled my jacket off and as the drummer counted four You grabbed my hand and pulled me out on the floor You just stood there and held me, then you started dancin’ slow And as I pulled you tighter I swore I’d never let you go

You sit and wonder just who’s gonna stop the rain Who’ll ease the sadness, who’s gonna quiet the pain

You wake up and you’re dying you don’t even know what from

You walk cool, but darlin’, can you walk the

You walk too far, you walk away Hello sunshine, won’t you stay

I thought I knew just who I was And what I’d do but I was wrong One minute you’re here Next minute you’re gone

Footsteps cracklin’ on a gravel road Stars vanish in a sky as black as stone

In the afternoon 'neath the summer sun We’d lie by the lake till the evening comes I run my fingers through your sun-streaked hair Baby, that’s the power of prayer

It’s a fixed game without any rules An empty table on a ship of fools I’m holding hearts, I’ll play the pair Darling, it’s just the power of prayer

I’m holding hearts, I’ll play the pair I’m goin’ all in 'cause I don’t care

I’m reaching for heaven, we’ll make it there

Zero’s my number, time is my hunter I wanted you to heal me but instead you set me on fire We were out over the borders, I washed you in holy water We whispered our black prayers and rose up in flames Take me on your burnin’ train

White sun burnin’, black wings beatin’

With our shared faith Rising dark and decayed Take me and shake me from this mortal cage

On your bed of thorns, I brought you shining gifts Wiped the sweat from your brow and I touched your lips Sheets stained with sweat, outside the endless rain Darlin’, I’m blessed in your blood and marked by Cain

Tried to summon all that my heart finds true And send it in my letter to you

Things I found out through hard times and good I wrote 'em all out in ink and blood Dug deep in my soul and signed my name true And sent it in my letter to you

I took all the sunshine and rain All my happiness and all my pain The dark evening stars and the morning sky of blue And I sent it in my letter to you

There’s a light on yonder mountain And it’s calling me to shine There’s a girl over by the water fountain And she’s asking to be mine

Well sweet Virgin Mary runs the Holy Grail saloon Well for a nickel she’ll give you whiskey and a personally blessed balloon

And the Holy Ghost is the host with the most, he runs the burlesque show Where they’ll let you in for free and they hit you when you go

Mary serving Mass on Sunday and she sells her body on Monday To the bootlegger who paid the highest price He don’t know he got stuck with a loser, she’s a stone junkie what’s more she’s a user She’s only been made once or twice by some kind of magic

If Jesus was a sheriff and I were a priest If my lady was an heiress and my Mama was a thief And Papa rode shotgun on the Fargo line There’s still too many outlaws trying to work the same line

Well things ain’t been the same in heaven since Big Bad Bobby came to town He’s been known to down eleven, then ask for another round

Me I’ve got scabs on my knees from kneeling way too long It’s about time I played the man, took a stand where I belong

And I forget about the old friends and the old times There’s just too many new boys trying to work the same line

Hands raised to Yahweh to bring the rain down He comes crawlin’ 'cross the dry fields like a dark shroud

Rainmaker, a little faith for hire Rainmaker, the house is on fire Rainmaker, take everything you have Sometimes folks need to believe in something so bad, so bad,

Rainmaker says white’s black and black’s white Says night’s day and day’s night Says close your eyes and go to sleep now I’m in a burnin’ field unloadin’ buckshot into low clouds

The blood moon shines across the vale Bells ring out through churches and jails I tally my wounds and count the scars Here in the house of a thousand guitars

The criminal clown has stolen the throne He steals what he can never own May the truth ring out from every small-town bar We’ll light up the house of a thousand guitars

Here the bitter and the bored Wake in search of the lost chord That’ll band us together for as long as there’s stars Here in the house of a thousand guitars

So wake and shake off your troubles, my friend We’ll go where the music never ends From the stadiums to the small-town bars We’ll light up the house of a thousand guitars

The road is long and seeming without end The days go on, I remember you my friend And though you’re gone and my heart’s been emptied it seems I’ll see you in my dreams

I’ll see you in my dreams when all our summers have come to an end I’ll see you in my dreams, we’ll meet and live and laugh again I’ll see you in my dreams, yeah around the river bend For death is not the end

Well how many wasted have I seen signed “Hollywood or bust” And left to ride the ever ghostly Arizona gusts Cheerleader tramps and kids with big amps sounding in the void High society vamps, ex-heavyweight champs mistaking soot for soil

Well sons they search for fathers, but the fathers are all gone The lost souls search for saviors, but saviors don’t last long

Those aimless questless renegade brats who live their lives in song They run the length of a candle, with a goodnight whisper and they’re gone

Believe me my good Linda, the aurora will shine the way

Those orphans jumped on silver mountains lost in celestial alleyways They wait for that old tramp Dog Man Moses, he takes in all the strays

Now don’t you grow on empty legends or lonely cradle songs Billy the Kid was just a bowery boy who made a living twirling his guns

The night she’s long and lanky and she speaks in a mother tongue She lullabies the refugees with amplifier’s hum

I hear the sound of your guitar Comin’ in from the mystic far Stone and the gravel in your voice Come in my dreams and I rejoice

It’s your ghost Moving through the night Spirit filled with light

Count the band in then kick into overdrive By the end of the set we leave no one alive

I shoulder your Les Paul and finger the fretboard I make my vows to those who’ve come before I turn up the volume, let the spirits be my guide Meet you brother and sister on the other side

All the redemption I can offer girl Is beneath this dirty hood

#bruce springsteen #springsteen

[clevercxs]

Believer - Sigefrid Thurgilson [Ch 3]

[MORE CHAPTERS]

Pairing: Sigefrid Thurgilson x female oc

Word count: 7.5k ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

If you read Sigefrid’s lines in his voice… *chef’s kiss*

_______________________________________________

By nightfall a blissful silence had bestowed itself upon the mead hall. After a night of revelation, the Danes were lulled off to sleep by the sound of rain drumming against the roofs of their homes. They dreamt of what fortunes awaited them come the day King Alfred and his men set foot in Beamfleot — a momentous occasion though dreaded by a certain Dane and his princess. 

The sounds of their drunken snores were loud enough to wake the dead, had they not relished in horns of ale alongside the living, that is.

While vivid dreams of glory and great victories transpired beyond their wildest imaginations, Lady Blædswith was left wide awake to face the harshness of her reality. 

If she had been born and raised as a Dane, worshiping Odin instead of God, such a celebration would have been a great honor. However, the princess’s ailments reminded her that she was no guest of honor, but rather a bargaining tool at Lord Erik and Sigefrid’s disposal. 

Her ribs ached and groaned with each breath she drew; unsure if it would be her last. Her lungs, frail and winded, wheezed as if she’d inhaled plumes of smoke from the blacksmith’s forge. Her stomach growled like a ravenous hound starved from unsuccessful hunts despite the rations she was provided.

Her dirtied cheeks, stained with blood, sweat, and tears, were caressed by the emitted light of dancing flames, illuminating her pale skin with a golden hue of the gods. The tattered remains of her clothes hung off her limbs like those of a decaying corpse left to rot. She finger combed through the tangled knots and frayed ends of her hair, gagging in repulsion at the dirt and grime beneath her nails, and embedded in each crevice of her feeble hands.

King Alfred’s daughter looked, and felt, no better than a befouled slave girl.

Ghastly shadows were cast throughout the hall, dancing across the ceiling and hurdling over tables, chairs, and thrones alike. The shadows formed obscure shapes which taunted her weary mind, though not without providing her with a sense of calm; a distraction, even.

As her eyes adjusted, the fire became rather mesmerizing to watch; vibrant hues of yellows and oranges were a stark contrast from the cold, lifeless world around her. 

For a brief moment she lost herself entirely. She was no longer a hostage, nor in any sort of discomfort. Her worries, her guilt and sorrowful prayers that went unanswered were no more. The rampant thoughts that coursed through her mind seemed to stop entirely. 

The longer she gazed into the flames, the more her mind played devilish tricks on her... 

Within the fire pit emerged a vague image of herself: fearless; unafraid and carefree. She wielded a blazing shield and longsword of fire, fighting alongside the Danes instead of against them. In the end they were victorious, as the sounds of bone-chilling battle cries echoed throughout Midgard; throughout her mind. Sigefrid jogged up to Lady Blædswith, wrapping not one but two hands around her waist, and spun her around before tightly embracing her warmth. The two of them pressed their foreheads together; thanking the gods, rather than her God, for sparing each others’ lives and guiding them to victory against King Alfred of Wessex…

“Agh! You are not real.” She growled in a panic, squeezing her eyes shut and tugging at the roots of her hair as tears dripped down her face. “That, that will never be real.” She gulped dryly, “Not for me.” The princess ran a clammy hand over her face and wiped away her resentful tears as new ones began to fall. 

She wanted nothing more than to subside the affliction in her chest; within her aching heart that suddenly yearned for the impossible.

A throbbing pain surged through her shoulder once more, and reminded her of what she must do; the main reason she had sought to free herself from the cage that once confined her. A seething gasp escaped through her gritted teeth as she unwrapped her fur pelt and set it aside. 

The princess found herself sitting on the long, rickety bench once occupied by the Thurgilson brothers. Her fingertips mindlessly traced over carved intricacies in the woodwork, stalling, until she felt the coolness of metal beneath her palm. 

Taking the leather-bound handle in her firm grasp, she dipped the knife into the fire, watching as its blade glowed with an orange hue. Leaving it be, she ever so carefully tore away the rest of her blood stained blouse and fed it to the flames, pinching her nose at the foul smell of burning blood and sweat. With chills ripping through her exposed chest, she wrapped her arms around her core to preserve any remaining heat. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw something move beside the cage. Craning her stiff neck around, she surveyed the limp body of the Dane tasked with keeping a close watch over her as she slept. However, his own curiosities led him to an early demise, as he had ventured too close to the cage...

She was startled by the twitching of his leg; the toe of his leather boot seemed to repeatedly nudge one of the cage’s wooden panels. 

Furrowing her bushy, unkempt brows, she steadily rose to her feet and tiptoed towards the guard to investigate while the knife heated up. When a couple of mice scurried out of his pant leg, Lady Blædswith nearly squealed like a pig, shooing them away before she could impale them, too, with the knife. 

The mice found themselves inside her cage, willingly, as they sniffed around for leftover crumbs of bread. 

Pressing a firm hand against her thumping chest, the princess sighed in relief that her foolishness hadn’t woken anyone up - and that the guard was, in fact, dead. 

Kneeling beside the Northman she had slain, she retrieved a smaller blade from his pocket and began sawing off a piece of his leather armor. After all, what good was such armor to a dead man now enjoying the company of his gods, drinking ale within the Great Hall as beautiful valkyries fly overhead?

Surely, it would not be missed. 

She then crawled over his lifeless, pale body and carved a sloppy ‘B’ into the side of his bearded cheek, before using the bars of the cage to get back on her feet.

Within her eyes was a hatred that burned brighter than the fiery depths of Hel. Lady Blædswith spat on his corpse and seethed,

“Te sunt a vili, preverted partem de stercore. Pedicabo ego vos!”

(“You are a vile, perverted piece of shit. Fuck you!”)

Making her way back to the fire, the bare-chested Saxon took a seat and braced herself for what would be the greatest test of courage and inner strength. Now biting down on the piece of leather, she retrieved the blade from the fire and took a deep breath.

Do it, God Damnit! Just do it!

Her stomach was in a queasy knot; her vision faded in and out of a blur the longer she waited.

Slowly, trembling, she raised the glowing knife to her gaping arrow wound and pressed it into her skin. The ungodly sound and putrid smell of her sizzling flesh caused her to dry heave. Her wailing sobs of agony were somewhat muffled by the coarse leather between her teeth...

She could taste hot, salty tears upon her lips as every tendon and muscle in her body strained and constricted in agony. Lady Blædswith, breaking out in a hot, sticky sweat, continued to force the blade against her skin until she could no longer handle it. When she had enough, the princess collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as she could feel herself suffocating.

“I-it’s almost over.” Lady Blædswith spat out the leather square and huffed convincingly with a breathy half-chuckle. “God damnit!” She writhed, instantly clutching a hand over her mouth to conceal her whimpers. “J-Just once more on the other side-” Just she began to hoist herself, unsteadily, back onto the bench - she stopped.

Frozen in time like a guilty thief caught in the act, she could hear a pair of quickening footsteps growing louder by the second. Snapping her gaze upright to the wooden balcony overlooking the hall, it was none other than a disturbed Sigefrid Thurgilson awoken from his much needed slumber like a bear out of hibernation.

“Dear God.” 

Her hands briskly shot to cover either of her breasts as she scrambled for her pelt, immediately wrapping herself in it to preserve what remained of her modesty. Seemingly agitated, the eldest Lord of Beamfleot descended down the stairs like a bat out of Hell. 

“S-Sigefrid.” She greeted nervously, not knowing how he would react to her newfound freedom. Her brown eyes were wide with sheer terror - that much he could see. 

What were the odds that he of all people had heard her? Perhaps he was already awake, enjoying the company of a beautiful slave girl who, to some degree, reminded him of King Alfred’s daughter.

Sigefrid’s rather unkempt, bearded jaw had plummeted through the creaky floorboards revealing sharp rows of teeth. His dark and unruly brows were furrowed tightly together and turned upright with worry and utter confusion. 

Except for a light cardigan over his arms and baggy pants hanging dangerously low on his pelvic bones, he too was without a shirt. His hand-blade, to no surprise, was strapped on tight and ready at his side. 

“Lady-” Sigefrid began in a hurry, panning around the room until he spotted his most trusted hound gnawing on the cooked, severed arm of the guard he’d instilled to watch over her. “What… did you do?!” He cried in disbelief, now approaching the cowering Saxon who seemed worse for wear. “I… I heard your cries.” Frowning, Sigefrid took a light seat upon the furthest end of the bench after making sure she was out of harm’s way.

Ever so slightly pulling back the trim of her pelt, Lady Blædswith revealed her newly charred, cauterized shoulder and the haunting imprint left from the blade she used. 

The princess watched as a look of horror overcame the Dane’s face, causing him to avert his gaze out of discomfort.

“My arrow wound became infected. It was slowly killing me so I… took it upon myself to handle it.” Peering over to the dead guard, she cleared her throat and attempted to justify herself, “Y-you should be grateful. After all, what good is a dead princess to a king? I-I had no choice but to save myself.”

The hound began coughing and heaving until it hacked up a whole finger by Sigefrid’s bare foot, only to be shooed away out of sheer disgust. Sigefrid then grumbled with a slight grin, “Damn dog.”

“Well, I had to keep him quiet somehow.” She shrugged, now lifting a hand to warm it by the fire while the other held her fur in place so she wouldn’t reveal herself. “He prefers his meat well done.” The princess teased lightly, only for Sigefrid to sternly furrow his brows and ever so slightly cock his head to the side out of concern. At first he was unable to see the humor behind it, but as moments passed he began to lighten up. 

Eventually, the corners of his lips cracked into a bright, toothy smile. He couldn’t help but chuckle after realizing that she was, in her own way, just as crazy as he was. 

“I…” Sigefrid sighed, shaking his head in defeat as his arms dangled between his knees. “I underestimated you. You are clever, Lady.” 

After finding a sense of comfort within his soothing words, she simply nodded into the fire, “I am resourceful,” whilst mindlessly sliding the knife towards Sigefrid by its handle. “Take it. I no longer have use for Erik’s knife.” She couldn’t help but bite her tongue, knowing her emphasis on his brother’s name would likely cause trouble between them. Perhaps, even jealousy.

“Erik’s? How did you get my brother’s knife, thief?” Sigefrid roared like a mighty brown bear standing tall on his feet, all whilst nearly knocking the bench, and the princess sitting upon it, over out of anger. He found himself, now, towering menacingly over the princess. Sigefrid’s dark, piercing eyes searched her face for any signs of untruthfulness yet deep down inside, he knew better than to not believe her. 

She felt as if her heart had been startled back to life, almost as if struck by a high voltage of electricity. His sudden outburst sent her entire body into a numb, temporary state of shock. Any regained color in her cheeks had been drained out of fear for what he intended to do to her. 

Sigefrid inhaled and exhaled sharply through flared nostrils, scowling down at himself for acting so irrationally towards King Alfred’s daughter.

“How did you get his knife?” He slowly reiterated in a calmer, more civil manner before taking a courteous step backwards to distance himself.

“Well… when an opportunity unfolds before you like a blooming wildflower ripe for picking… you do just that. Pick it.” She narrowed her eyes and smirked wickedly. “And I am not a thief. Unlike you, I have never stolen-”

“Say what you must, Lady.” Sigefrid groaned impatiently, running a calloused hand over his reddened, sleep-deprived eyes. “Go on.”

“Erik gave it to me himself. It was wrapped in the fur pelt,” She flapped her elbows beneath said pelt, which remained draped over her shoulders. “The one he placed inside the cage.” She chuckled lightly, though found herself wincing at her shoulder.

“What I do not understand…” Sigefrid paused, crossing his muscular arms over his toned, exposed chest sprinkled with faded scars. He now found himself sitting closer beside her on the bench, conscious of the remaining space between them. “Why would Erik do that?” 

The princess carefully shrugged. “Your brother knew I would surely make use of it. Whether on him, my guard, or… you.” She slowly cast her gaze towards the Dane through glossy lenses. Shaking her head with a frown, she shamefully looked down at her lap. “But I-I could not have killed you. Even if I wanted to. I have every reason to, but… I can not will it.”

“And if it is not by the will of the Gods,” He quirked an eyebrow, “then it was not meant to be.” She suddenly felt the warmth of his calloused hand caressing the side of her cheek, guiding her to face him once more. She traced small circles atop his rough knuckles and closed her eyes. 

Sigefrid Thurgilson seemed unable to stop himself from rambling like a love struck boy, “I believe the gods intended for us to meet. I wish… under better circumstances.” 

To Sigefrid’s surprise, he could feel her nodding along beneath his hand. “Your gods deserve my thanks, for they have nearly saved me from marrying a stranger. They have prolonged the inevitable; given me a few final days as a… somewhat free woman.” She sighed, gently removing his hand from her cheek though it remained within her grasp. 

Sigefrid watched her every move through sparkling eyes with such awe.

Changing the subject, for better or for worse, the princess confessed, “The knife was likely to pick the lock. You have nothing to worry about, Lord.”

“Yet, you killed a man with it.” He sighed and narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her every last word. “To get the key.”

“I did not need the key. Killing him was not my intention, truly… but he made it very easy.”

“You better start making sense, woman.” He growled as she witnessed his short temper, once more, getting the best of him. The scorching influx of pain from his cauterized hand likely contributed to his hot-headed irritableness.

One thing was for certain: It doesn’t take much to get on Sigefrid’s bad side.

Slamming her hand down on the bench between them, Lady Blædswith leaned forward and growled, “He opened the cage himself, with the bloody key, because he intended to rape me. Is that what you want to hear, Lord? How your brother saved my life, and that a man you so ‘trusted’ to protect me nearly got away with such an act?” She leaned in close to the dark haired Dane, “Ohh,” She chuckled bitterly and bore her fiery gaze into his now softening, brown eyes, “How it must burn knowing he nearly humped me before you could!”

Scowling down at himself, Sigefrid muttered, “He...he was not thinking...”

She scoffed, “There does not seem to be much of that around here, Sigefrid!” Wrapping both arms around her stomach beneath the pelt, she leaned back on her tailbone and took a deep, calming breath. With the shake of her head, her body seemed to melt to the bench beneath his gaze. “I am sorry. I did not mean to wake you-”

“Lady.” Sigefrid suddenly interrupted. “I should have been there. Not him. Me.” He pressed his thumb firmly into his chest. “I am the one who brought you here. You are mine. It will not happen again.” He leaned closer to her and placed a warm hand upon her tender shoulder, mumbling rather darkly through gritted teeth,“I swear it.”

“I believe you.” She replied softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as she shyly looked down upon their hands - which seemed to fit perfectly together like the long lost pieces of a puzzle. “Do not make me regret doing so.”

“You will not regret it, Lady.” Sigefrid nodded to himself and repeated firmly. “You... will… not.” Sigefrid gently gave her shoulder a squeeze, causing the princess to wince in pain. Immediately removing his hand, he sighed and muttered. “Right, right. I apologize...”

“I never thought I would live to see the day when I asked a Dane for help, but...” Lady Blædswith shimmied the pelt down to her waist, turning to show him the open wound on the back side of her shoulder where she couldn’t quite reach. 

Sigefrid, understanding what she had asked of him, furrowed his brows and ran a quick tongue over his thin, pursed lips. Though he was apprehensive of causing her further pain, Sigefrid knew it needed to be done in order to save her most valuable life. 

He had no problem inflicting pain on others, but her? It was almost unimaginable. Almost.

After all, as Lady Blædswith put it: what good is a dead princess?

“I will do it...” The Dane nodded, causing her to frown when he set Erik’s knife aside, and away from the fire. “...and I will be careful. You tended to my hand,” Sigefrid drew out slowly and lifted his hand-blade ever so slightly, “so I shall do the same, for you. I do not wish death upon you, Lady.”

“I do not wish death upon myself, either.” She teased, cracking an unusually wide smile that seemed to hatch butterflies within the Dane’s stomach. Unmistakably, she could feel the warmth of her flushed cheeks beneath his tender gaze. 

The two stared into each other’s eyes as if longing for something greater; something mutually forbidden and seemingly unattainable. It was a brief moment, rarely even shared between wedded lovers. There they sat, enjoying the sound of the crackling fire and the comfort of each others’ presence. They were finally alone, with no Danes to judge them nor intrude on their subtle intimacies.

There was a comfortable silence between Saxon and Dane that just felt… right. And for the first time, the princess was able to admit to herself that she felt safe and out of harm’s way, though couldn’t help but wonder why he had rid of Erik’s knife...

It had pained Sigefrid, seeing the woman he had grown to admire in such discomfort and disarray. He yearned to rid her of her inner demons and the burdens she carried upon her aching shoulders. To see her restored to her fullest potential, fighting alongside him as the shield maiden she was born to be - now that would bring an everlasting smile to his face.

The two couldn’t be more different, yet they both wanted the same thing. They were opposite forces of nature capable of destroying the other, no different than fire and water. 

She watched as Sigefrid rose to his feet, now passing by her hunched over form.

“You said I was ‘yours’. Did you mean that?”

“Yes.” He mumbled bluntly. “I did. I still do.” Sigefrid nodded subtly before instructing her to stand up, and reposition herself so that she was facing the main doors with the fire burning on her right. There she sat, anxiously waiting for his next cue, as she straddled the bench between her jittery legs and began tapping her toes against the wooden floorboards. 

Looking down at her lap as Sigefrid’s shadow was cast upon the wall opposite of the fire, she watched out of the corner of her eye as he paced around the hall rolling up his sleeves and repeatedly, anxiously, stroking his beard.

What if I go too far? What if it kills her?

“And you still intend to give away ‘what is yours’ to my father?” She dared to ask, looking up as Sigefrid neared the bench once more after he’d convinced himself to cauterize her wound, therefore inflicting an excruciating pain onto someone who’d endured so much already.

“I… have no choice, Lady” He pouted, taking a close seat behind her on the bench. Carefully, he dipped his hand-blade into the fire. His left hand gently gathered handfuls of her soft, dark curls that draped down her back, and brought the lengths of her mane to the left side of her neck, out of his way. 

As chills ran down her spine - quite literally - she peered over her shoulder at him and whispered, “That is a lie even you do not believe.” 

Sigefrid exhaled slowly and brought his body closer to hers, slithering his hand past her waist from behind, now gently resting palm up on her thigh. 

Filling the gap between their bodies, between their hips, Lady Blædswith pushed herself backwards until her shoulder blades bumped into his bare chest. She could feel his warm, seductive breath down her neck, though she couldn’t help but feel self conscious around him in her current state of filth.

“How can you stand to be this close to me?” Sheepishly, she took Sigefrid’s calloused hand between her own and gave it a squeeze. “I am a filthy, broken, hideously burnt… sorry excuse for a princess.”

“We are not so different, Lady. My hand was cauterized, not unlike your shoulder. I, too, am ‘hideously burnt.’” He teased lightly, though not without grinning ever down at himself. “Life will go on.” After receiving a sigh and nod of approval from a very grateful princess, Sigefrid lifted his glowing, sweltering hand-blade from the fire. He could feel her hands beginning to tighten around his like a boa constrictor, although he hadn’t yet touched blade to skin. 

“This is the only way.” She hummed. “I trust you.”

And with that, the scorching blade of metal was forever branded into her skin, serving as a permanent reminder of how the Lord of Chaos, Sigefrid Thurgilson, saved her life once more.

Her blood curdling cries echoed throughout the hall undoubtedly waking everyone in earshot. 

After what seemed like an eternity of suffrage, Sigefrid unbuckled his hand-blade contraption and tossed it to the floor, before allowing Lady Blædswith to fall back against his chest - one that was panting heavily and sticky with sweat. Sigefrid wrapped his strong arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer to his heart as she waited for the pain to go away, and her rapid heartbeat to steady.

With heavy arms draped over his, she gently began to interlock their fingers. Sigefrid, well aware of her affections, leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

Wiping away new fallen tears with the backs of her knuckles, Lady Blædswith spoke softly, “Thank you.” she then sniffled, “You have done more for me than any man ever has.” Slowly reaching forward as goosebumps and the hairs on her arms began to raise, she pulled her pelt to her chest. With Sigefrid’s careful aid, in a matter of minutes, she was back on her wobbly feet.  

“H-how can you look at me like that?” She wept quietly, burrowing her face within the fur.

“Like what?” Sigefrid, teasingly, hummed and tilted his head to the side as she swayed before him. “You are a beautiful woman. Is it wrong, for a man, to stare?” Sigefrid, whilst still supporting her weight, moved closer to face her. “You have not seen what I have. You are a shield maiden like no other. Your grace; your beauty. It is all still there.”

“How can you tell?” She whimpered, shaking her head in disagreement, as flattering as his words were. “Look at me!” She violently grabbed a fistful of tangled hair. “I-I look as if I belong on a slave ship, o-or amongst the livestock!”

“You are wrong.” Sigefrid challenged with a smirk, chuckling in response to the naive Saxon. “You will see, soon enough, what I have seen all along.” Sigefrid guided her back to the bench, where she willingly took a seat. He motioned for her to wait there, patiently, for his return. “Do not move.”

“Where would I go?” She muttered sarcastically.

When Sigefrid returned, accompanied by three heavily armored guards and a frightened slave girl trailing close behind, the princess immediately stood up, defensively, eyeing around for the nearest weapon-like object.

“W-what is this?” She stammered nervously, watching as the menacing Danes, whom Sigefrid had alleviated from their nightly duties, surrounded her on three sides. “Sigefrid?” Frightened, she could feel her voice waver as she realized she was sorely outnumbered. Sigefrid had the power and resources to do whatever cruelties he wanted to her, yet he lacked the will.

“Shh. You talk too much.” He grinned from ear to ear, then focused his attention to the surrounding Danes.

“I want her bathed, fed and watered.” Sigefrid ordered, receiving definitive nods from those he’d chosen. “Nothing is to happen to her. Understood?” He glared from Dane to Dane, narrowing his eyes at the familiar slave girl before addressing the princess’s escorts once more. “Do not disappoint me.” He warned sternly, emphasizing the grave importance of keeping the king’s daughter out of harm’s way, seeing as he failed to do so once already. 

With a tight, supporting hand clutched to either of her elbows, she was practically carried through the main doors, unable to see past the towering Danes to where Sigefrid stood. He chose to remain inside, not wanting to overstep his bounds, and shortly after was accompanied by his sleep-deprived brother, Erik. 

Once the doors closed behind them, and the princess was out of sight, Sigefrid sighed in relief knowing she was to be taken care of. He would rather have her bathing in the lake, now, during this unusually cold night, then under the morning sun where all eyes would undoubtedly be on her bare figure. 

When the time was right, mutually, Sigefrid was to be the first and only Dane to lay eyes on her nakedness. Sigefrid believed her to be a gift sent to him from the gods, one he wasn’t too keen on sharing. Her purpose was not to be ravished and disposed of like a common whore, but loved and cherished; worshipped, even, like the goddess Sigefrid saw her to be.

“You care for her.” Erik grinned softly, placing a hand on Sigefrid’s shoulder as they stood staring aimlessly at the closed doors. 

“I do.” Sigefrid was hesitant, though accepted that he couldn’t lie to himself, much less his own brother. “The gods have played a sick game.” Sigefrid growled, walking away from his brother as the nearest fire tempted him closer. Erik, knowing better than to leave his troubled brother’s side, followed in his footsteps and sat beside him, rubbing his hands together over the dimming flames. 

“What will you do about Alfred?” Erik asked, pressing his elbows into his knees for support as he leaned forward. “You made a great promise.” Erik eyed his brother sympathetically. “Do you intend to keep it?”

Sigefrid sighed, and rested his drowsy face within his palm, “I do not know what to do. I grow more fond of her by the hour.” He admitted gravely, now teasing his bottom lip between his sharp teeth. 

“What do you truly want, brother?”

“You know what I want.” Sigefrid snarled with a distasteful glare, almost offended that Erik didn’t know him better by now. “The leaves have already fallen. I need her ransom paid in full by winter’s end. An army by spring.”

“And a king’s crown by summer.” Erik chimed in, recalling the conversation they last had. “Are you sure of this?”

Sigefrid narrowed his brows and raised his arms slightly. “Sure of what?”

“That you are ready to let her go?” Erik, trying his best to comfort his eldest brother, could see the look of hurt upon his face, therefore in his heart. 

Sigefrid closed his eyes, now fighting a bit harder to stay awake. “I am not ready. I will never be ready... to let her go. I will think of her every night in my sleep. I will see her face in every woman, Dane and Saxon. She is both.” Now staring into the flames, as his beloved princess once had, he tried to imagine the rest of his life without her. 

No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t. 

“I will never be ready.” He grumbled to himself once more, turning to face his kind-eyed brother before standing up, reaching into his pocket, and retrieving Erik’s knife. Holding it out for him to take, Sigefrid spoke in a low, hurt tone, “I do not blame you.” Before retreating upstairs where he would impatiently wait for Lady Blædswith’s return. 

Erik, twirling the stained knife between his fingers, could feel guilt gnawing at his insides. Sigefrid knew he didn’t trust him around King Alfred’s daughter, and that the knife was Erik’s way of looking out for her. Erik realized, now, that he no longer had to do so. 

She was more valuable to Sigefrid than any amount of the king’s riches, regardless of the cold front Sigefrid put up. Judging by the way Sigefrid has already treated her, Erik knew his brother would do everything in his power to ensure her safety. Everything. 

Even if it meant turning against his own people.

____________________ ➴  ____________________

The night air was crisp and unforgiving. The moon, in its fullest bloom, illuminated their way through the darkness. Venturing down a steep, well worn path towards the shore, the princess aimlessly followed the glow of a single torch like a moth drawn to candlelight.

The trio of Danes waited atop a low, grassy hill, allowing the timid slave girl to lead Sigefrid’s pet the rest of the way down. Compliant to their Lord’s orders, the men turned their backs whilst the king’s daughter undressed, though not without sneaking quick glances over their shoulders with wirey, toothless grins.

Once the slave girl had staked the torch into the damp earth near the water’s edge, creating a dimly lit aura of light around them, she apprehensively stepped towards the shivering Saxon. Her hand, as it reached out to take Lady Blædswith’s fur pelt, trembled out of fear of mistreatment from her Lord. She was, very obviously, under tremendous pressure to please him. Her small, childlike hands were even dirtier and more bruised than the princess’s own. 

With her arms folded tightly against her breasts, the princess tiptoed into the cold lake water, feeling it seep into the soles of her feet, then up her calves as she waded on. A light mist sprinkled on the tops of their heads, and a deceitful breeze often toyed with the princess’s remaining warmth.

Her arms were rough with prickly goosebumps as she descended beyond the shadowy waters, clenching her jaw and fists tightly as her teeth began to chatter like rattling bones. She began to adjust, very uncomfortably, to the lake’s frigid temperature. 

There had been no words exchanged between princess and slave — for there was nothing to say. Lady Blædswith’s hot breath, like a dragon’s own, escaped through her chapped lips as did steam rising from her core.

The slave girl, fully clothed yet up to her shoulders alongside her, had dunked a piece of cloth and a metal bucket beneath the water. “I-it is time for me to bathe you, princess. Before we both freeze.” She practically whispered through a thick, Scottish accent that didn’t go unnoticed. 

It had pleasantly reminded Lady Blædswith of a certain Irishman back home. 

Sigefrid’s slave averted her gaze from Alfred’s daughter out of respect; out of fear, even. Lady Blædswith noticed this, and frowned before closing the distance between them. The young, blonde haired girl began to wash the princess’s lovely figure, mindful of her various bruises and fractured bones.

“You need not fear me.” She soothed motherly, feeling chills ripple through her entire body as the breeze began to pick up. “I will not let anything happen to you... as long as I am here. You have my word.” The blonde looked up at the Saxon, eyes sparkling with tears though her lips curled into a tight smile.

“T-thank you, Lady.” She humbly nodded, now tilting the princess’s head back before pouring a bucket of fresh water over her thick, curly locks. With their backs to the entirety of Beamfleot, Lady Blædswith couldn’t help but gaze into the distance, watching ripples along the water’s surface reflect the moon’s vibrant rays. 

The bashful, fair-completed princess

smiled. “You may call me Blædswith. What is your name?” She asked the beautiful slave out of curiosity, and by the surprised look on her face, she was the first person in a long time to ask such a thing. The girl hesitated, almost as if struggling to recall what she had once gone by, rather than the cruel insults she was called on a daily basis.

“My name is Moira, Lady.” She then squeezed her eyes shut and corrected, “Blædswith.” She hummed as she worked her way around the princess’s grotesque, multicolored torso. “I have not been asked that in some time…”

“Tell me, Moira... what is Sigefrid like? You have certainly known him longer than I have.” Blædswith grinned as Moira began to scrub the dirt from her hands and face. Though reluctant, Moira felt the princess deserved to know the truth, seeing as her Lord had taken a particular liking to her in light of recent events.

“Lord Sigefrid is… an ambitious man.” She shook her head grimly. “He gets what he wants, n-no matter the cost.” Moira sighed to herself, almost shamefully. “If I am being honest…”

“Please, do.”

“He does not think with his head. That is what Erik is for.” She tapped a finger to her own scalp. “He thinks with his cock. Well, he did… until he found you. Now I’d say things are different.” Moira rang out the cloth and used it to gently dry the princess’s face. “It is no secret how he feels about you, Lady.”

“He has been rather kind to me. I even sat bare chested before him and he did not touch me. Perhaps he does not wish to.” She shrugged.

Moira couldn’t help but grin. “I can assure you, he would very much like to. Any man with eyes would.” She then rubbed down the princess’s chest, adding, “After all, you are Alfred’s daughter.”

“Sweet Moira.” Blædswith chirped and brushed a loose curl from the slave’s face. “What... if I were to live here? You could tend to me, only, and I would care for you.” She could see herself and Moira living together almost as sisters, if not like mother and child - despite her being a slave. She felt drawn to protect such an innocent soul who, despite being sold into slavery, seemed nothing but kind and gentle. “I would protect you.”

Caught off guard, Moira nearly burst into tears of joy, turning away before Blædswith could notice. “I… I would be grateful to serve you, Lady of Wessex.” She then looked up at Blædswith with a slight frown, “Or, would you be Lady of Beamfleot?”

“I would simply be Blædswith. No titles, if I could help it.” She shrugged, and once her shoulder and the rest of her body had been washed ever so carefully, Blædswith was instructed to stay in the water whilst Moira retrieved her fur. “Do not be long!” She called after Moira light-heartedly, having thoroughly enjoyed her company thus far and did not wish to go without it. 

Aside from the Thurgilson brothers, this poor slave was all she had. 

As Blædswith mindlessly overturned rocks with her toes and sliced through the still lake water with her hands, she’d become one with nature’s tranquility in waiting for Moira’s return. 

“Sorry for the wait, Blædswith.” A distant voice rang out from beyond the darkness, though Moira was not yet visible. “Dagfinn hid your pelt in the bushes hoping to see you na-”

Moira had stopped dead in her tracks, her vibrant blue eyes wide with sheer terror as she dropped the pelt at her feet. A thick, crimson stream oozed down her mouth as she began to gurgle and choke on her own blood. Before Blædswith could react fast enough, or at all, Moira’s eyes rolled back into her head as her knees gave way, causing her body to limply topple over, revealing Hæsten with a bloodied dagger in hand and a devilish glint in his khol-smeared eyes. 

“Princess.” The Dane greeted wickedly with a haughty, half-assed bow.

As he stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight, seeming unable to stand completely still due to the excessive horns of ale he’d downed, he let out a low chuckle before walking across Moira’s body like a bridge, wiping his muddied boots against her back. Blædswith could hear the crunching of her frail bones beneath his heavy boots.

“No!” Blædswith wailed, immediately back stroking to distance herself from the drunken Dane who began stumbling towards her. As much as it pained her to do so, her arms began flailing in and out of the water in a panic. “Y-you bastard! She was just a girl!” Blædswith shrieked, unable to stop herself from hyperventilating as she swam further and further away from shore out of fear he would try to drown her, or worse. 

Hæsten could see she was very naked, and very much afraid. “Ah yes. But she was a girl you cared for.” Hæsten then placed the tip of his dagger to his lips as if telling Blædswith to hush; as if saying “there is no point in screaming when nobody will hear you.”

As loud as she physically could, Blædswith began calling out for help; for her designated guards to defend her against such a creature bearing ill intentions. 

They were nowhere to be found.

“You will freeze to death, princess.” Hæsten began walking along the water, now up to his ankles. “You can not stay out there forever.” He began to twirl the dagger between his fingers before wiping the remaining blood on his sleeve. “What a shame.” The blonde Dane looked over his shoulder at the crumpled body he’d slain. “She was a good hump.”

“Sigefrid!” Blædswith cried once more, “Sigefrid! Erik! Please! H-hear me!” The princess realized she’d swam out far enough that her toes no longer touched the bottom - they were not even close - therefore her voice would likely never penetrate Beamfleot’s walls.

“Sigefrid can not hear you. He is busy planning how to sell you back to Alfred.” Hæsten sneared, “And he has decided not to give me any of the silver.” His tone was rather accusatory as if she were to blame. “And do not forget; you humiliated me.” He proceeded to near the princess, the water now up to the soaked knees of his trousers.

“Hæsten. Sigefrid will never forgive you.” She warned breathlessly, feeling the cold waters numb her tender arms and legs. Her bruised, aching lungs felt impossibly heavier as she fought to keep her head above water. “Please,” she gasped, spitting out a mouthful of lake water. “Don’t. If this is about silver, I-I have plenty in Wessex.”

“I do not want your silver, nor Sigefrid’s forgiveness. I want you to suffer for what you did to me. You ruined me, woman!” Hæsten roared drunkenly, nearly falling over on his arse though he regained his composure.

“Anybody! Help!” She wept, forcing her body to stay afloat as long as she could.“Sigefrid…” Completely winded and moments away from slipping into the night, her voice had fallen to a mere whisper at the acceptance of her fate. 

If she were to die tonight, it would not be at Hæsten’s hand. She would not grant him such pleasure; the satisfaction in knowing he’d gotten what he wanted. If anything, it would be the water’s icy depths that would take her to the great beyond — The Great Hall of Valhalla.

She could feel a dark shadow cast from above, as if the moon itself had already shut her out. 

“S-Sigefrid I… I’m not ready…”

There was a large splash in the near distance. An eruption of violent yelling rang out in the night, as did the sounds of metal clashing upon metal. Though muffled, she could make out the loud, rhythmic grunting of someone swimming towards her. A pair of strong arms hoisted her above the water, throwing her good arm over their shoulders as they proceeded to swim her back to shore.

“S-Sigefrid!” Blædswith, once conscious, gasped as she recognized the dark haired Dane who so valiantly came to her rescue. “Sigefrid you heard me…” She slurred out of shock and disbelief. After swimming them to shore, he carried her out of the water and wrapped her entire body in an oversized fur.

“I did.” He nodded windedly, pulling her against his chest for comfort; his and hers. “I heard your cries, and I was there as fast as I could.” Sigefrid leaned his head back and caressed the side of her pale cheek with his hand. His sorrowful, glossy eyes scanned over her face as his voice faded to a boyish whimper. “I thought I lost you.”

Sniffling, she shook her head and burst into tears of joy; of relief, and pressed her pruny hand against his cheek with a weak smile. “I’m here, Sigefrid. I-I’m alive.” Almost instantly, she could feel her body regaining its heat, though that didn’t stop her from shivering in his grasp.

“This,” Sigefrid shook his head and panned around the scene, where four dead bodies now littered the shore. “This is all my fault.” He then gritted his teeth and cursed at himself beneath his breath. “I let you down. I did not protect you, I,” He paused to run his hand over his beard. “I can no longer trust anyone…”

“Sigefrid, please.” She placed a calming hand to his chest, now standing on her toes to look him in the eye. “This is not your fault. But if it must be, then I forgive you.”

“How?” Sigefrid himself began to fight back tears of his own. “How can you forgive me? Tell me. I am not worthy of your-”

Blædswith cupped the back of Sigefrid’s neck and crashed her lips onto his unexpectedly, smiling into it as Sigefrid hungrily kissed back. She could feel the sweetness of passion; a million loving thoughts condensed into a single moment. Sigefrid and Blædswith were undeniably their most vulnerable selves.

It was as if time had collapsed into one tiny speck, then exploded at the speed of light. Her universe began and ended with him. As they embraced once another, the world - Midgard - seemed to halt on its axis. There was no time, wind, nor rain. There was no fear of what their futures entailed; no physical pain nor sorrows. 

Lady Blædswith was, truly, at peace. 

She did not worry about what this would mean for them; A fearsome northman had fallen for the Saxon daughter of his sworn enemy, and a princess had fallen in love with the Dane who kidnapped her. This would not be something either side takes lightly.

Sigefrid supported her lower back with his arm as she leaned against his bare chest. When their lips parted Blædswith whispered breathlessly, 

“You talk too much.” 

Sigefrid leaned down and placed a soft, prickly-bearded kiss to her lips once more as he tangled his hand through her wet hair. 

He then whispered in her ear with a growing smirk, placing a hot kiss to the side of her neck as his thumb moved to cares her throat.

“I thought that was my line.”

_______________________________________________

A/N: I Hope you all enjoyed this longer chapter! If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, let me know :)

TAGS: @inforapound @cheapcakeripper @wildwren @metall-and-dust @eclipsedbymyheart @henrycavill19 @aesirharvorsson @finantheagile @onesaltyhunter @wessexcrown @destinysall @lauwrite1225 @lumxnously @chlomidgard @dagonet-ironside @marv-llous @littlebirdgot @curlyrat

#The Last Kingdom #vikings #fanfic #sigefrid #sigefrid thurgilson #erik and sigefrid #tlk #Uhtred Ragnarson #finan #finan the agile #finan tlk #bjorn bengtsson #morgana #katie mcgrath #mark rowley #Uhtred #alexander dreymon #arnas fedaravicius #Sihtric #period drama

[sasa-writes-fandom-things]

Home alone - Part 2

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Shouta Aizawaxf!reader

Summary: After a steamy love making session you look forward to round 2 but quickly you realise that something changed.

Words: 2.2k+

Warnings: SMUT, explicit sexual content, fluff, established relationship

A/N: I never did a part 2 or anything but here we are. Thank you for sticking around! Hope you enjoy this. It made me so uwu and soft and Taylor Swifts new album helped so much.

Click here for part 1 > You could read this as a stand-alone if you wished tho.

The TV still flickered and bathed the lonely living room in cold white light. Faint light danced across the empty hallway indicating movements in the bathroom. The small room was filled with steam and the air felt pleasantly humid. The wetness stuck to you like a second skin, making you feel all sticky. But that wasn't the only reason you felt that way. Your tits were currently pressed against the fogged shower glass, leaving a nice and sexy print on the door. Shouta had told you to get cleaned up but the minute you stepped inside the shower you knew that he would follow you; ready for round 2. His stamina was something you were grateful for. Sex with him was satisfying to the very end. It happened every so often that your love game stretched out to the early hours of the morning.

One hand was wrapped around your neck holding you in place, as if you had any desire to move. His other hand gripped your hip to gave him more leverage. "Will you behave this time?," he murmured into your ear. You nodded your head and faced him; looking into his lust blown eyes. "I will be a good little slut." He squeezed your hip and started his haltered movements again. "We will see," he said sounding almost bored. Somehow his movements felt mechanic and you tried your best to blend it out, to focus on the delicious way his cock stretched your aching cunt. But after a while of monotone fucking you placed a hand on his lower belly, stopping him. "Is everything alright?," Concern was written over your face when you turned around, already missing the feeling of his dick inside you. Shouta avoided your questioning look as best as possible but given the narrow space it was a lost cause. He clicked his tongue in frustration and looked at you with a pained expression. "It's nothing," he tried to dismiss your concerns, already trying to turn you around again. You pressed your body into his and cupped his cheeks. "I am not blind or that needy, that I wouldn't notice the change," you reminded him playfully but your eyes stayed serious. A dry laugh escaped his lips and he reached behind you to open the shower door. He knew the mood was soured and that you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

While reaching for a towel to dry yourself off, you turned to your boyfriend once again. "Will you tell me what robbed me from a mind blowing orgasm?" Shouta stopped in his tracks and sighed heavily. You could feel his resistance crumble but he stayed silent. It made your heart clench. After all those years he still didn't trust you completely. "It's not that I don't trust you," he mumbled as if reading your mind. He walked past you in all his naked glory. "It's just... that I can't let you in."

You followed him into your shared bedroom where you caught him sitting - now dressed in a sweatpant - on the bed, face in both hands. You put on some clothes yourself and joined him. With caution you pried his hands off and the look in his eyes made your heart sink deep into your stomach. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away angrily. Now was not the time to get emotional. Shouta looked at you and you could see that he was deeply worried. "They are kids for crying out loud and I am their teacher. It is my duty to protect them. Not the other way around," he choked out lowley. He wasn't used to laying his heart open, all those years it was only him and that was okay. But now there was someone else beside him. You placed your hands around his broader body, your arms not reaching around fully but you hugged him tightly nevertheless. All those apathetic looks and the annoyed comments he made about his pupils couldn't fool you. Deep down he cared so much for them that it nearly broke him into pieces everytime one of them got hurt. But right now in the dark bedroom Shouta didn't feel like falling apart and with a baffled look he realized that it was because of you. Your warm embrace kept him together, made him whole again. Overcome with a rush of emotion he grabbed you and pressed you tightly against himself, littering your face with kisses in the motion.

After the initial shock over this outburst of affection you couldn't help but giggle. You stopped him littering kisses everywhere he could reach and just looked at him. Slowly you traced the scar under his right eye, scooping closer to give it a quick peck. Then you continued to trace his nose with your index finger and after that you gave his nose a quick peck. With an honest smile Shouta let you do your little trace and kiss thing. By this time you two were lying almost completely on the bed, wrapped up in each other's embrace. He caught your hand and placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. And after a long and meaningful look in which he tried to lay every emotion he felt for you, he leaned in to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

There was no rush to the kisses you two shared. Lips were connecting and parting without haste. It was a tender moment, shared between two hearts realising that they were one. Hands were exploring without urgency. Words were whispered heavy with meaning and thick with love. Bodies were pressing against each other with care and attention.

"I love you so much," Shouta confessed without shame or reluctance. You carded your fingers through his loose locks and smiled up at him. "I love you too," you responded lovingly, kissing him for the umpteenth time. He deepened the kiss, letting his tongue dart out and licking over your bottom lip. With a sigh you let him in, his wet muscle found yours in an instant. The air started to feel hot around you and you had to break the kiss for those hot air. "You and your wicked tongue will be the death of me," you chuckled lightly. "I am told that I have a sharp one," he grinned back at you. Your eyes scanned his face but the looming thoughts seemed to be gone for now. All you could see in his beautiful eyes were love. The sincerity took your breath away, it was not often that your beloved let his emotions be so visible - so out in the open.

Again Shouta connected your lips with his, engaging your tongue in a heated battle. Although it was far from sweet and innocent it felt different. As if something changed, his kisses were demanding but giving at the same time. His hands roamed your body, groped your tender flesh but they also held you and caressed you with awe that you couldn't help but wonder what had happened to your boyfriend. "You know I am not one for sharing my feelings and I am not comfortable expressing them with words either," Shouta looked at you during two deep and mind-numbing kisses. "So please let me show you tonight what I realized. Let my body tell you how I truly feel." His honest gaze and confession brought tears to your eyes and all you could do was nod with a strangled sob.

The air was charged with desire and love, it was an addicting mixture. Your lips found his for another kiss and you felt drunk and high of all the emotions he showed you. You never thought that you would cry during sex, not in that way. But every touch and movement hold a new meaning, it was as if you two had just met. It felt new and exciting but yet so intimate and familiar. Shouta peppered your skin with soft kisses, nipping at your weak spots or letting his wicked tongue glide over your perked nipples. You were so overwhelmed that all you could do was lay there and let this man worship you. Another strangled sob tried to escape your throat but a tender touch on one of your weak spots turned it into a gasped moan. You could see a smile lingering on his lips and in his eyes when your boyfriend looked back up at you.

“Just like that, Shouta,” Your thighs squeezed even tighter around his hips. Holding him in place, you didn’t want him to move just now. All you wanted, was savouring the moment of him on top of you, his bare chest pressed to yours and his cock fully sheathed in your cunt. “You feel so good around me,” Shouta moaned out and buried his head in the crook of your neck. You nudged his cheek with your nose, whispering into his ear with a playful smile. “Likewise.” A muffled sound which sounded oddly like a laugh made its way to your ear and hearing the man you loved laugh made your chest swell with pride and more love - if that was even possible. “I need to move, kitten,” his voice rasped over your ear sending a shiver down your spine. You bucked your hips up in a sudden motion, making him groan out loud. “What was that about behaving?” You only shot him a cheeky look before kissing him again. He spread your legs wide, placing his hands on your beautiful thighs, holding you in place. Whenever he bottomed out fully, he made sure to capture your gaze. Those demanding and calculated eyes kept you pinned to the bed. His gaze burned you, seared over your heated skin and pierced right into your heart. You inhaled sharply unable to look away. The intensity only fueling your desire and pushing you close to the edge. “I - want - you - to - remember that - I - will - always - love - you,” he emphasized his words with long, deep snaps from his hips, making his head of his cock kiss your cervix every time. Your fingers travelled down your body, reaching for his hands on your thighs. Interlacing your fingers with his, you freed your thighs from his grip. Now you were able to meet his harsh thrusts with your hips in response to his words.

Just one more kiss, just one more push and you would tumble over the edge into pure bliss. Shouta was close too, you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. You couldn’t help but dig your nails into his shoulder, earning a guttural groan. Your name fell from his lips like a mantra, his movements becoming quicker. He was pounding into you with erratic thrusts now, dragging over your g-spot so deliciously. Every time his cock was hitting you so deep you could feel the coil tightening inside your belly, ready to snap any minute. You tried to match his pace and move your hips in rhythm with his harsh thrusts, but it was no use. He altered his pace every time you tried to coming up to meet him. It wasn’t fair, every roll, snap and thrust made you crazy. Tears pricked your eyes and you didn’t bother to wipe them away. His eyes were closed and his face showed signs that he was holding back his own release. A gentle smile curled your lips and you brought your fingers to his neck, pulling him to your face. You licked over his ear, knowing that it was one of his weak spots. “Cum for me, Shouta,” you purred next to his ear. This was all he needed, with a deep growl he emptied his balls deep inside of you. His body went tense, he tried his utmost not to crash on top of your body. His arms were placed on either side of your head, holding him up while he was coming down from his high. You enjoyed the feeling of his cum painting your walls. Seeing him come undone by just a few words from you, shot a new and thrilling shiver right to your core. You mewled under him and rolled your hips in dire need of release. Your soft whimpered “Please.”, didn’t went by unnoticed. Shouta chuckled at your neediness. “Always my needy little kitten.” His skilled hand found your pulsing clit and with a few flicks suddenly your vision were blurry, white lights were dancing in front of your eyes and static filled your ears. Your whole body went rigid and now it seemed that all strength had left you. Heavily panting you needed a few seconds to recover from that intense orgams. 

You could feel the bed dip and something wet was placed between your legs. Through your weary mind you registered that Shouta had cleaned you with a washcloth. Warmth were spreading through your body and the strength was returning to your limbs. The second time the bed dipped, your boyfriend layed next to you. His hair was tied into a loose bun and he was caressing your cheek. “Thank you,” he ushered lowley. You looked at him questioningly for a few seconds but then you understood. A smile reached your lips. You grabbed his chin and dragged his lips to yours. “Always and as many times as you need,” you whispered before sealing his lips with yours.

__________

Tagging: @enjifuckersupreme @yukiimanic @vaseshipghost @callmekda @karebear5118 @devilslittlebabygirl​ @bakatenshii

#sasa writes #bnha scenario #bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #mha scenario #mha smut #mha fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #bnha shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #home alone #home alone part 2 #hawtn'horny

[stxvercgersslut]

Running Late

[This gif is not mine! Credit goes to the owner]

a/n: I just watched puncture and the line “do you want a handjob” & “Sure” just made me want to make a one shot about it because god imagine y/n just giving Chris a handjob in the car before his interview 😏🤤 (btw the ending of that fucking film broke my heart! 😭)

Description: You and Chris had been rudely disturbed during hot sex together causing the pair of you to be extremely needy. An hour later things get steamy in the car 😏

Warnings: Smut, handjob, if you squint for long enough you might see a Tiny bit of thigh riding, ruined Orgasm

❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅

Chris was late for a big interview, one that could change his career for the better. But for some strange reason the actor wasn’t even worried one bit about the fact that he was literally going to be killed by his boss for almost messing up his once in a life time opportunity to become even more famous then he was right now. This was different for the Male but sometimes change was good right? And the reason for be one late? You. You were the reason that Chris had been later to this damn interview. This man just couldn’t ever say no to you. You were way too adorable and way too precious for him to ever want to see you go disappointed. The day he made you sad would be the day that he’ll freezes other.

❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅

He’d been rudely awakened by you, his breath takingly beautiful girlfriend, rubbing your pussy up against his thigh. There you were Moaning breathily into his ear, with your eyes still shut tightly. That was the first sign that this wasn’t a willing action. You were most certainly having a wet dream and he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to let you finish. No instead, the actor just clenched his thigh tightly as he began to rock himself against you for the added pleasure. This was most certainly the best way to be woken up, especially since your bare soaked pussy was pressed firmly against him. Fuck....how did he get so lucky? There you were, moaning deliciously, your back arching ever so slightly, mouth forming a small O shape, eyes shut a little too tightly and all Chris think about was how badly he wanted to wake you up, push you fully onto your back and fuck you into next week. It wasn’t until your breath began to quicken and your moans in his ear began to progessibly get louder that he realised that you were getting closer to that sweet orgasm that he most certainly knew you needed. That was when the Boston boy had finally had enough of just watching you, instead he needed to cum, more specifically he needed to cum inside of your gorgeous cunt.

“Oh no you don’t!” He spoke before quickly moving on top as he very expertly began to yank his boxers off, revealing his aching hard cock. The tip red with need, practically begging to cum. The action alone had been enough to reluctantly shake you from your extremely sinful dream (of course involving Chris pounding into you like the sex god he always was.) oh you were very appreciative of the view that you’d been working up to. There he was, your extremely handsome boyfriend, hovering over you like a predator stalking his pray.

“Chris...” you moaned out as he rubbed the tip of his rock hard cock against your wet folds. “I know baby, I know. Don’t worry I’m here.” He cooed seductively, slowly pushing his cock through your folds before hungrily lining himself up at your entrance and eagerly pushing into you until he was balls deep inside, the most animalistic moan falling from his mouth as he felt your walls flutter around him. Oh how he’d missed feeling how your pussy would wrap so perfectly around his cock, almost as if you were made specifically for him. “Shit princess....you feel so fucking g—go—good around me...miss this feeling” oh you were 100% certain that Chris’s dirty talk was going to be the death of you. What a way to go? Death by being impailed by your extremely sexy boyfriend whilst he dirty talked. No better way to die could exist. No waiting was needed as he began to pound into you. Extremely desperate to get to his release as quickly as he physically could, already knowing that he was of course going to be late today. But he couldn’t care less. How could he think about work whilst his cock was thrusting in and out of you? “C—“ you began but just as you were about to moan out his name, you were rudely interrupted by the hideous sound of Chris’s phone shattering the mood as it continued to vibrate against the hard wood of your bedside table. Really Chris? He couldn’t have just turned his phone off for just one hour? You’d both been so so fucking close to cumming.

Almost as soon as the phone began to vibrate, Chris reluctantly pulled out of your warm entrance. Slowly stretching over to grab his phone, unlocking it to unfortunately see that it was of course his boss calling. Oh fuck this wasn’t going to be a fun experience. “Sorry beautoful I have to take this” the man spoke soothingly now as he placed one apologetic kiss against your lips before pulling away to answer the phone, quickly pulling on a fresh pair of boxers before exiting the room to take his call.

❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅

Looking down at his watch the Male groaned. Fuck. The time read 10:30am. 1 hour. 1 whole fucking hour late for his interview with one of the biggest reporters in America. Yet here he was just sitting in his car, sitting next to his beautoful girlfriend without a care in the world. What the hell was wrong with him? He needed to get out of the car yet right now it was like there was nothing else to do expect be right here with you. His Cock still throbbing against his jeans, begging for at least some sort of contact. Oh what he’d give for you to just wrap your angelic lips around his cock and suck him dry. And if he wasn’t in a car right now that would be exactly what you’d be doing. How was he supposed to sit in a room for a 2 hour interview whilst his cock was practically screaming for attention? Exactly he couldn’t. But then again he couldn’t just ask you to help him and not give you something in return. After all it was the both of you who’d had to suffer a ruined orgasm today. If he was going to ask you to help him out then he needed to be prepared to at least help you out later.

After some heavy convincing on his end the 39 year old actor slowly cleared his throat before finally managing to speak “Y/n...I erm..” he spoke, only managing to get at least three words out before he’d been cut off by your rather confident question. “Do you want a handjob?” Oh now that threw him for a loop. Never had he ever heard his princess speak so boldly about such a sinful act. Of course Chris was extremely shocked but at the same time he was more turned on then ever before. How could he say no to that? Exactly he couldn’t. “Fuck yes..” he spoke, the words coming out more forced then he meant them too as he eagerly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants with a hungry expression in his eyes, before pushing both his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free from its confinement’s. Okay yeah maybe he was a little too excited for you to touch him. But who could ever blame the poor guy? For an hour now he’d been aching for release, even his own hand wouldn’t satisfy the hunger he had for you. The sight in itself was enough to make you laugh almost a little too loudly “someone’s eager” you commented with a extremely wide smirk on your face. “Shut up....” the male scoffed giving a not so subtle gesture towards the hard on standing tall between his legs. It was now or never.

Almost as if on que, your hand slowly sneaks up to his gorgeous cock, carefully wrapping you much smaller hand around his length. For a couple seconds you didn’t even bother moving your hand at wall, just letting him bask in the glory of having your hand wrapped around him. The thrill of getting caught by almost anyone who passed by the parking lot just adding to the excitement. “Princess...” Chris needily stuttered out as he grasped your wrist, attempting to force your hand to move. “Move your fucking hand! I don’t have enough time for your your pathetic teasing!” This time he growled, startling you slight. However still not moving your hand. But just 20 seconds more of staying completely still, you finally began to painfully slowly jerk your hand up and down his gorgeous length. Causing the Boston boy to buck his hips up into your hand, silently begging you to speed up. After all he really wasn’t joking, there really wasn’t enough time for teasing. Especially if he wanted to keep his life. No time at all could be wasted right now. So after a couple more slow strokes, you quickly began to speed up your pace against his cock, adding a delicious amount of pleasure that he was getting. Oh but when your left hand snuck it’s way to his balls, carefully but roughly squeezing them with just the right amount of pressure that pulled such a gorgeous moan from his lips that sent a shiver down your spine almost every single time.

“Don’t stop.....f—fuck princess....I—I—I’m so fucking...C—close” he growled deliciously whilst ever so sneakily running his hand up and down your thigh, pulling a moan from your throat. This man truly did have a lot of tricks up his sleeves. But he didn’t ever love his hand. That damn tease. You would have of course done the same to him, but given the fact that he had been so desperate for you it would just be cruel on your part. So you continued to jerk him off a whole lot faster then ever before until your sexy boyfriend finally moaned your name loudly as he came.

Like most days, it took him a couple minuets to fully come down from his climax. Making sure to take deep breaths whilst he began to clean himself up as much as possible, before stuffing his now softening cock back into his boxers and once again smartening himself up. Now he could go into that interview feeling satisfied. Although he did feel quite guilty for his previous babygirl who didn’t get to cum. Especially since he could see that you were desperately clentching your thighs together in an attempt to get at least a little bit of relief. “Baby....I wish I could help you out right now...but I’m already way too late.” He spoke with a gentle smile on his face as he placed his hand on your cheek, forcing you to looking at him before he continued “how about this? As soon as we get home I’ll eat that fucking pussy until you cum 3 times and then I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk?” Once again Chris was seductively growling in your ear as you whimpered in agreement. Oh this was going to be one hell of a day and you really couldn’t wait to get home.

Little shoutouts: @et-lesailes & @sillyqt (please go and follow these two amazing people! They deserve all the love that they get!)

#chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans sexy #chris evans oneshot #chris evans one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans oneshot smut #chris evans x y/n smut #he is so fucking hot like what the fuck? 🥵 #smut #hot smut #chris evans hot #chris evans cute #daddy! chris evans #his laugh though 🥺