Tumgik
#but why's his sword on his back? hes never done that before
ryuto12 · 1 year
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Vomit Boy Has GROWN
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druidonity2 · 7 months
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King
#world of warcraft#anduin wrynn#varian wrynn#Llane Wrynn#Barathen Wrynn#Wanted to see if I could duel wield on my rouge the kingslayer and the sword that killed Barathen so I looked and to my dissapointment#it appears they used two different one-handers for reference in the comic so you can kinda get close but its not the right sword#they used the design of one and the shape of another uggh#Let me run around ingame with the swords that killed Llane AND Barathen please is that too much to ask#anyway#All three of the last Wrynns were killed in the same area#their breastplates aint do SHIT to protect them#which is why i am now gonna go off into a 10k rant about how this prooves there is NO reason for Anduin to be forced to wear plate armor#infact prehaps he would be safer in cloth like a proper priest#UNLESS sayyyy the little lion gremlin face on Anduin's breastplate is enchanted and anytime anyone gets too close it breaths fire at them#Someone gets too close and an alarm goes off and the little lion mouth moves up and down with a loud 'STAND BACK- STAND BACK- STAND BACK'#Anduin forgetting about hte annoying lil shit until hes getting back to his room after a long day and his bf wrathie is there and they get#a littttle tooo close n touchy before Anduin can remember to undress and the fuckin lion alarm goes off and guards rush into the room#anyway ive never done stained glass before and tried a new way to make shattered glass so i think this was good#that said the canvas size was maybe too small and it got compressed to hell on twitter and it bothers me so much#cuz anduins face is really nice but it looks blurry when i upload itttt aagh
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dutybcrne · 1 month
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Sometimes Diluc does wonder if the Delusion left a lasting impact on him, outside the never-fading scars on his arm. That if every time his temper flares or he deals a particularly cruel blow upon his opponent, it’s due to the Delusion’s lingering influence, that it may have altered him to be a crueler person as a result of his near half a decade-long dependence on it.
#hc; diluc#//Sometimes; he even goes as far as to wonder if the Delusion in fact only ENHANCED what was already there#//He’d damn near slain Kae out of anger as it was; anger he’d NEVER once thrown at Anyone before; much less HIM#//Who’s to say he didn’t already have that darkness within him; even considering the circumstances of that moment#//And him continuously—deliberately CHOOSING—using the Delusion only CEMENTED it deep into his self and soul#//He’s had plenty of his share of nightmares where he longs for the Delusion; regretting having Shattered it after its final use#//It was for the best; yes; but now he’ll forever be Haunted by the lack of it; like an addict in withdrawal#//There were times he DID try and cast it away during his years in Snezhnaya; but inevitably put it back on after harrowing nightmares#//He wishes he’d tried harder to get rid of it then; before it left such a lasting impression on him#//Even now; his body is still SO used to & wanting of it; he gets so RESTLESS#//Wanting to reach for and mess with it; only to find it gone and Remember why#//Or the marks it had branded him with start aching and acting up so bad; as though he were Burning from its fire#//Feeling utterly Exhilarated in the face of destruction his flames bring; in dreams or in reality then be Horrified at how much he’d done#//bc he SHOULDNT be proud of that; SHOULDNT delight in such cruel feelings and sights#//Especially when it comes to dealing w Fatui in Mond—the sick delight he feels in fighting/destroying them genuinely scares him at times#//He’s less inclined to feel it when dealing with the Abyss creatures—they aren’t HUMAN after all; but it still sets him at unease at times#//Sometimes particularly scathing remarks toward Kae during their bouts have even him balking#//Not quite rushing to take it back; esp not when Kae hits back harder or brushes it off w his irritating little posturing#//But still enough to make him mull it over afterwards & wonder just how much more resentment he holds for him#//And if he should watch out and make sure it doesn’t get so bad he tries to hurt him again#//He would NEVER willingly want to draw his sword on him ever again; not if he could help it#//no matter what’s become of their bond and how irreparable it must surely be; after all’s said and done#//But if the Delusion had truly sunk its cruel influence so deep into himself…who’s to say how well he can keep up this oath?#//Or smth idk lol
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too-deviant · 2 months
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mdni 🃏
luke castellan who never lets second in command!reader out of his sight. and if he does, he always knows where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with. when the som trio first infiltrate the princess andromeda and barely escape with their lives, luke is on a warpath straight back to his cushy suite. he whistles sharply and you (who had been reaming out some dracanae for letting the kids get away) are quick to follow.
standing at his side as he addresses his army, you are all-glaring, deep frowns and snarls. arms crossed, spear at your side, violent energy pooling at your feet. it’s why luke chose you.
but when he pulls you into the room and locks the door behind you, your fingers shake in anticipation and you glance up at him through your lashes, the most painfully beautiful look of longing shining up at him. he groans into his fist and sits on the edge of the mattress, his other hand gesturing for you to start the show.
it always starts slow — the peeling of your shirt from your skin, the dropping of your cargos. but then he can’t hold it in anymore, and he’s grabbing you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap, taking your mouth in his. his hands, rough and callused, travel along the planes of your bare skin. skin that hasn’t bore witness to the horrors you inflict — your back, your thighs, your sternum.
he flips you onto your back, and you wrap your legs around his hips (he liked to keep his clothes on whenever he took you. it reminded him who was the boss of who whenever your pussy made him forget) and he trails kisses from your ankles to that sweet sweet spot — his fingers working more gently than they ever would when wrapped around the hilt of his sword, or even the base of his cock.
he devours you like it’s his last meal, and then politely waits for you to come down from your orgasm before burying himself balls deep between those supple thighs of yours.
(he would never admit it, but his favourite part was watching you pant underneath him after a star-seeing climax. watching your legs tremble slightly, staring intently at the pink blush on your cunt as you sucked in puffs of air impatiently. he would tut and tell you to take your time, “i’ll wait as long as it takes.”)
and as soon as you give him the nod, all pleasantries fly out the window. he is grunting into your neck, hands wrapped roughly around your legs and hips, indenting you where nobody would see but him.
one time you got cheeky, reached down and squeezed his ass. he sat up on his haunches, pulled you into this lustrous position on his lap and didn’t pay your squeals any mind as he committed his sultry revenge.
when you were done, he’d lean back to inspect his work. palm himself after tucking his cock away, fighting the urge to get hard again just from watching you come down from the excursion. his lips would part as you redressed yourself, eyes searing into your skin.
and when you were ready, as always, he’d open the door and wave you through, slapping your ass as you passed him.
“good job.”
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chaussetteblanche · 4 months
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Training with Luke
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pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader summary : the evolution of luke training you with a sword word count : 1.3k warnings : none
When you had agreed to Luke trying to teach you how to use a sword, this wasn't what you had been expecting at all. You'd warned him about your inability. Many before him had tried to teach you, but you had never managed to even swing the weapon properly. You had come to the conclusion that swords were your mortal enemy and that you would for sure die at the hand of one.
"Pshh, I don't believe that for one second, you just haven't found the right teacher, doll." Luke had scoffed one sunny afternoon, after you'd confided in him your inability to wield his favourite weapon. You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder. "Careful, I think your ego may be inflating." He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, but come on, I'm serious." Luke turned to you, angling his head to the side and giving you a soft smile. "Please let me try to teach you. I won't promise anything, you certainly won't be able to beat me, but maybe you can learn the basics without cutting a finger off." You pursed your lips as you thought. After weighing the pros and cons, you finally conceded with a sigh. "Fine, you and your modesty have convinced me." He rolled his eyes. You continued. "But you have to promise to go easy on me." "I promise, pretty girl."
And that is how you found yourself all geared up and very groggy on this Saturday morning. You wiped some of the sleep out of your eyes and yawned once again. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden glow on the arena you both stood in. Luke, who stood a few meters away from you, crossed his arms over his chest.
"Why are you so tired anyway?" "Because... I don't know if you remember, but there was a party last night and I-" "Oh, yes, I remember very well. You and Clarisse were on fire, dancing and singing, or should I say shrieking, and pouring everybody more drinks." He chuckled as he remembered the night before, which had only been a few hours ago. He'd been there, of course, he always came to parties, but he'd barely drank anything and had left pretty early. Unlike you. He had claimed he had to train in the morning, and you hadn't realised that had included you until this morning, when he'd come to wake you up. "How dare you. I'll have you know that some Apollo kids have asked me if I'm really sure that I am not one of them, considering my musical talents are extraordinary." You lied, feigning offence. "Yeah, right, that's likely." He snorted. "Anyway, enough chit-chat, get into stance."
You did as you were told, placing one foot ahead and the angling the other slightly outward. Luke circled you, eyes trained to your body. He gently tapped your shoulders, reminding you to keep them straight. You moved them immediately. "Good girl," he praised. You bit back a smile, your stomach flipping.
"Okay, now I'm going to come at you, okay? I'll go easy on you, just like you asked," he smirked. You rolled your eyes at his words, which you knew had an underlying meaning. "Just do it, Castellan." You readied yourself. He nodded once and bolted forward. Before you could register anything or react, you were on the ground with Luke's sword at your neck and a dull pain in your ass. You coughed as dust raised around you. "You know you're supposed to block, right?" he asked, lifting his sword and moving the blade out of your way. He held out his hand, chuckling. "You ass." You took his hand and let him help you up. You rubbed your bum with your free hand. "That was not going easy on me!" "You have to trust me, I really was. If I hadn't I would have done this." Before you could even reply, Luke had kicked your legs out from beneath you and lightly kneeled over your chest, making sure not to hurt you. "I hate you," you spat. "Get off me." You pushed at his legs and sat up. You knew your cheeks were red and you hated yourself for it. You pouted as you looked up at him.
"You see? It's no use. I'm no good with a sword and you can't change that." You folded your arms over your chest, very aware that you probably looked like a disgruntled child. "Darling, don't give up just yet." Luke gently pulled you up by the elbow and picked your sword up off the ground. He wiped some dirt off your cheek. "I'm sorry, that was mean. But don't give up yet! We can still try offence!" You huffed as you took your sword. "Fine. But stop calling me pet names." You didn't actually want him to stop, but if you wanted to take this seriously, he had to stop distracting you.
"If you manage to beat me, I'll stop," he bargained. "That's hardly fair," you sighed as you got into stance and raised your sword. He only shrugged. "C'mon, hit me with your best shot."
Over the weeks, you surprisingly got better at fighting with a sword. You stopped only using your customary bow and arrow and started carrying around a sword, much to the surprise of everyone who knew you. Training with Luke had not only made you better, it had also brought you two closer together. You'd been good friends since you'd arrived at camp, a few months after he did, but you had never spent as much time together as you did now. And such proximity made you question what you felt for him.
You met him one afternoon for training, feeling frustrated. Since you'd got up that morning, everything had gone awry. You'd got assigned shitty chores, had had to break up a fight between two new campers and in the midst had suffered a bird attack. Needless to say, you were looking forward to releasing some anger. But Luke was acting strange.
"Quit going easy on me," you grumbled as you helped him to his feet after knocking him to the ground for the third time. "I'm not going easy on you." He shook his head, frowning slightly. "Yes, you are. Stop it." You glared at him. "I'm not-" You lifted your sword and kicked him in the chest. He didn't even block and fell over once more. You'd never seen his camp shirt so covered in dirt.
"Stop bullshitting me, Castellan." You raised your sword and pointed the blade at his throat. "Okay, okay, fine, I'll stop," he grumbled. He rolled his eyes and pushed your blade away before lifting his hand for you to take. You slapped his hand with the flat of your blade and pointed your sword back at his neck. He frowned. "You're not getting away that easy." "Hey, doll, c'mon-" "No." He sighed and threw his head back, exposing his neck and the coloured beads hanging from it. Your eyes were drawn to his soft exposed skin but your focused again, clearing your throat. "Come on, get up. By yourself." "You asked for it."
He swung his legs across your ankles, making you yelp and fall to the ground. And before you could reach for your sword which had slipped out of your grasp, he had pinned you down by the wrists. "Am I going easy on ya now, darling?" You grimaced and squirmed but the hold he had on your wrists would not budge. And with him straddling your hips, you couldn't move your legs. You looked up at him and saw the coloured beads you knew so well swinging above your face. You swallowed. "No, you're not." "Are you happy?" "I'll be happy when you stop being such a smug ass, Castellan." His laughter was music to your ears.
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lokis-army-77 · 5 months
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In Thanks
Masc!Mizu x fem reader
Word Count: 1.8k
You have been traveling with Mizu for a little bit and you can't help the feelings that have developed. Maybe it's time for a thank you.
Warning: 18 +. oral sex, fingering, slight choking, scissoring. I think that's it...
A/N: Be forewarned, Mizu is referred to as "he" the whole fic except for one instance.
Masterlist
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You had become his traveling companion in a series of fortunate and unfortunate events. 
Unfortunately, your father had sold you to the flesh traders for money he could use to save the farm from disrepair. 
While on the road to another town, the two traders had begun to fight, Mizu was haplessly brought into the scrap when he was seen by the two agitated men. They turned their sights on the lone man just trying to pass by. 
Fortunately, he had killed your owners. At first, he was intent on escorting you to the nearest town and leaving you there in pursuit of his revenge, only that plan changed when you had proved to be useful when it came to medicine. 
A few weeks later left you here, on the outskirts of a small remote seaside town.
Mizu's eyes watch you from the other side of the campfire. They flick so subtly, catching your every move, or lack thereof as you continue to stare. 
It hadn't taken you long to learn the secret he was hiding or rather she was hiding. There were subtle tells, ones that no one would be able to notice or think back on or they were just passersby. But you had been at his side for nearly two months and it was so obvious to you.
"Would you quit staring- it's rude." Mizu quips before going back to cleaning his blade. 
You don't listen. Keeping your eyes firmly glued on his movements, the flexing of muscles under his skin, and the touch of his slender fingers rubbing at the blood on his sword. All of it made your knees weak.
While you had been with Mizu on the road, you had begun to develop feelings for the stoic warrior. Feelings of love and lust. Only now did you feel brave enough to do something about it, and act on these feelings no matter the consequences. 
Your thighs clenched as you continued to watch him. Now was as good a time as any. 
Mizu only tilts his head in your direction when the sound of you standing reaches his ears. Twigs snap under your feet as you make your way closer to him. he turns fully to you now, analyzing whatever it is you could be doing, and why you were nearing him. 
“What do you want?”
You didn’t want to come right out and say it, so you spoke coyly. “I never thanked you properly for saving me. I thought I could do that now.”
“You’ve thanked me enough.” 
“But I haven’t done all that I could. Please, Mizu, allow me to thank you fully.” You’re right next to him now, slowly lowering yourself to your knees. 
Sultry eyes lock on suspicious ones.
With gentle hands, you reach out for his glasses. he leans away only slightly, not far enough to be out of your reach. 
You place them safely on the stool-sized rock beside you. 
“Let me see your sword.”
She breathes your name heavily. 
Your hand caresses over his shoulder, teasing and soft. 
"I'm not what you think." Mizu murmurs just loud enough for you to hear.
You pause before you answer. "You think I don't know? That I do not see past the defense and deeper within? I know." 
His words catch in his throat. "-how?"
"You aren't the first I've seen that have hidden their sex from the world, and you won't be the last." Your fingers loosen the string tying up his hair. The silky strands begin to fall, making his all the more stunning. 
"I've learned to see what many do not and what others would like to keep hidden... call it a gift."
You let your lips fall to the shell of his ear and whisper, “Now, let me see your sword.”
Reaching into his lap, you grasp the hilt of the blade. Carefully you take the katana and sheth it before setting it near the rock. 
She doesn’t stop you when you begin to untie his pants or the obi around his waist. 
Clothes fall away leaving only warm, scarred skin bare to you. Mizu’s breathing deepens as the binds around his chest are removed. 
Slowly you crawl over his body, forcing him to lie back on the cape he used as a blanket. 
Your eyes scanned over his every curve, curves hidden away by the straight lines of men’s clothes. The cool night air had his nipples pebbling and his skin littered with goosebumps. 
With lust-filled eyes, you descend on him. Lips making contact with his own. It wasn’t tender, no it was needy. You wanted him, all of him and he wanted you too. his hands reach your face, pulling you in deeper. 
The kiss leaves you breathless but you continue to kiss him, pulling away from his lips to kiss down the column of his neck and to his chest. You wet your lips hungrily as you take his peeked nipple into your mouth, your other hand teasing the other. 
Teeth nip and pull at the sensitive skin. Your tongue laves over him, pulling out a soft moan of your name. It has you smirking into the supple flesh. 
You trail down further, peppering kisses over taut abs before you come to the place you have so desperately craved to be. The smell is sweet but you know the taste will be even sweeter.
“Thank you, Mizu.” You pull apart his strong, slender legs, inserting yourself between them. 
“Thank you.” You kiss the inside of a thigh then move to the other. “Thank you.”
You lay there with his legs thrown over your shoulders, admiring the pussy before you. Your mouth is watering as you trail a single finger over the slit. 
Mizu sucks in, body tensing, preparing. 
You move your mouth in closer, tongue lapping at the wetness between his folds. The taste had you moaning, the sweet yet heady taste filled your mouth and you knew you'd never get enough of it now. 
Pressing on, you began sucking Mizu's clit. Hands flew into your hair, tugging in pleasure. You could feel his nails scratching your scalp.
“Taste so good.” You hum against him. 
Your left-hand strokes over his firm abdomen while two fingers of your left slowly insert themselves inside Mizu's entrance. 
He's so warm and wet, clenching down around you, pulling you in with need. With lidded eyes, you look up, past the roaming landscape of his body, at his face. His brow is furrowed, pinched in pleasure as your fingers work into his walls. His mouth is open, jaw slacked as sweet gasp after sweet gasp erupts. It’s a wondrous sight to behold and all you’ve ever wanted to be privy to. 
Those gasps turn into short whimpers once your rhythm steadies out and your mouth sucks slightly harder on his clit. His hips buck up, pushing against your mouth as need courses through him. You feel like you’re in a trance, your eyes still locked onto his face as he continues to breathe heavily, lost in a pleasure escalating with each passing second. You keep going, determined to make him feel as incredible as possible.
The sloppy noises of you eating Mizu out have your stomach turning, fluttering with want. You know for certain that your own cunt is dripping, making a mess. You need more than just the pressure of your legs squeezing together, no, you need to feel Mizu against you. 
In the heat of the passion, you pull away. Mizu whines at the loss of your fingers and mouth. “What are-” He stops his question short. You’re throwing off the layers of your clothes, tossing them haphazardly around the forest floor.
With determination you crawl over one of his legs, slotting yourself against him. A breathy sigh leaves your lips when you lower yourself. 
With slow subtle rotations of your hips, you begin to feel the want bubbling in your belly pouring forth. The feel of his cunt against your own is like heaven. Your clit rubbing against his sends a jolt through you. 
“Fuck, I’ve never- ah- I’ve never done this.” He grunts. One hand holds you by the hip, guiding you as you grind down. Your own hands hold fast on his thigh in front of you. 
“Neither have I,” You answer between choppy moans. 
As you piston your hips, you can feel the wetness between the two of you growing. You both groan in pleasure, your hands moving to explore each other's bodies. His fingers trace circles around your breast and you shiver in delight. You heave when Mizu’s hand reaches for your throat and pulls you down into a kiss.
His tongue slips past your lips, pushing back against your own. You may be on top and in control at the moment, but there simmering below Mizu’s surface was a want to flip you both over and take the pleasure that had been so far from his mission of revenge, he had forgotten what it felt like to feel another persons touch in this manner. 
Your back arches at the growing ecstasy within your body and Mizu’s hand tightens. The air is stolen from your lungs for only a moment before he lets go, moaning into your kiss. 
 “Thank you.” You repeat once more. 
You can feel the ache in your abdomen as you move, you’re coming closer and closer to release, and by the way that Mizu is rutting his hips against you, strong and needy, you know he’s close too. 
“Look at me.” You plead, “Wanna see your pretty eyes.”
A deep red blush rises across Mizu’s cheeks at your words, not used to the compliment. The blush makes the topaz color stand out. You could stare into those eyes forever, get lost, and never leave. 
Your bodies move in unison, your ragged breaths become one as you both tip toward the edge. With one more thrust, with one more rub of your clits, your bodies tense. Your mouth opens in a silent scream of pleasure while Mizu lets out a wavering cry.
The movement of your hips slows to a stop and you fall in a heap over Mizu’s body. Tiredly you kiss the sweat-dampened skin of his chest, and he shivers. “Thank you.” You mummer one last time. 
Mizu’s hands hold you close, one in your hair, the other flat across your back. “You don’t have to keep thanking me.” 
“I know,”  you look up into his eyes, “but I want to.”
He keeps eye contact as he wipes the hair from your face. “I appreciate this… I haven’t felt this way in a long while.” 
It’s an intimate moment, one of understanding without having to speak. So, you rest your head and close your eyes, too warn out to redress and too tired to move. Mizu also doesn't move to push you away, you take that as a sign that whatever this is, it has a very good chance of happening again. 
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unoislazy · 5 months
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Jealousy Looks Good On You
Mizu x Jealous! Reader
Summary: You and Mizu have been close friends for quite some time. You truly enjoyed each others company, that was until Taigen showed up.
Disclaimers; light language, has not been proofread, I am currently delirious from packing and moving all day but I had to write this out to feed the starved mizu lovers. A fair amount may not make sense at this point in time. My apologies ❤️
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You and Mizu have been friends for a while now. Honestly you were surprised you could even say that. Mizu was not someone who would openly accept friendship applications on a daily basis, they usually wouldn’t even talk to people unless it was absolutely necessary. But somehow, despite this, you had gotten past that wall and weaseled your way into becoming her friend.
That was how you viewed it at least, you liked to think that she at least enjoyed your company seeing as she had yet to just up and leave you randomly, which she very well could successfully do if she wanted. You two had learned a lot about each other through late night talks and just general conversations. You of course, had learned about her secret, and you vowed to keep it from anyone else that would cross your path. She in turn had learned a lot about you, things about your past, your likes and dislikes, the usual things that a companion would know.
However, there was one thing she didn’t know about you and you planned to keep it that way. You had been traveling alongside Mizu since you two had crossed paths in a town that she did not intend to stay long in.
Since then you had always admired Mizu for her skills with a sword. That admiration eventually turned to something much stronger.
You would never admit it outloud but you had developed a small crush on the blue eyed woman, and in all honesty it was pretty hard to keep it under control.
Your dynamic had just been you and her for a long time and once Ringo was added to the group it only added to your enjoyment. You loved spending time with them. You honestly found it pretty adorable how Ringo persistently followed the two of you around, just as you had once done to Mizu well before him.
However, once Taigen joined… things changed.
He was never supposed to stay this long, the only reason he did was because Mizu had saved him when escaping that stupid tower. You wanted to go with her, you pleaded with her to take you with her to at least have some back up in case something went wrong but she refused. She wouldn’t give you any other reasoning than, “I need you to stay here.”
No matter how many times you asked why, she would just give you the same answer until you listened. She didn’t want you to go along with her, she wanted to do this alone. And yet when you and Ringo had found her, was she alone?
No… of course not.
He was there with her.
You didn’t recognize him at first of course, you simply thought him to be some random man Mizu thought it was in her best interest to save. In the time you knew Mizu, that didn’t happen often.
You and Ringo had managed to get them both out of the icy water and make your way to the sword fathers house, keeping them both as warm as you possibly could while in such a state.
It wasn’t until Mizu had initially woken up did you finally find out who the man was.
“You’re awake.” You exclaimed, making your way over to a very dreary Mizu who was trying to prop herself up. You smiled, feeling a sudden wave of instant relief as she looked up at you,
“Is Taigen awake.” Were the first words to come out of her mouth.
“Taigen?” You asked, the name felt familiar but you couldn’t tell from where.
“He’s not awake yet.” Ringo answered, he was still very upset with Mizu after their last meeting and that would’ve been clear to anyone just through his tone of voice.
Taigen… Taigen… where have you heard that name?
That’s when you realized, on one of your very late night talks, Mizu had opened up to you a bit about her childhood. In the tale she told, one name continued to pop out.
Taigen.
The kid who was absolutely ruthless to her. All because of the color of her eyes. You remembered just from listening to the story, the anger you felt for Mizu, but even as she was telling the story she didn’t seem quite bothered by it. You supposed she’d have had a lot of time to think about it to the point the memories no longer brought up any emotions.
You looked away from Mizu and turned to the man who was resting quite peacefully not too far away from her. Your astonished gaze turned to a very clearly displeased glare. Never in your life would you think that you wouldn't end up coming across this man, not once, but twice. You had seen the man before, he had shown up a few other times before this, the only reason you hadn’t reacted as harshly was because you didn’t know who he was. You guessed you hadn’t recognized him this time due to the amount of bruising he sustained from his stay at the tower.
Deserved, in your opinion.
Once Mizu had woken up, she of course got right to work just as she usually did. She had no idea what the words ‘take a break’ meant. You helped her out with most of the tasks she tried to perform, but there was one she was insistent on doing alone, again.
So you sat back, preparing whatever medicine Ringo had asked for you to make as he followed around the sword father like there was no tomorrow. You sat in silence, Taigen sleeping not too far away from you, the fire still blaring keeping you both warm.
Why him of all people. Why did he have to be the one she brought back?
There was nothing you could do about him now except for hope that when he wakes up he just gets up and goes on his way.
You rolled your eyes, even thinking about the man made you mad, so you went back to your mundane task. That was until you heard the sound of what you realized to be Taigen stirring as he finally woke up.
“Great, you're awake.” You said sarcastically as you turned towards the man who had rolled over, making sure to make several groaning noises in the process. Sure he was in severe pain but literally everything he did, logical or not, annoyed you.
He didn’t even truly process who you were or why you were there, the first thing he asked was,
“Where’s Mizu?”
Seriously? Why did these two suddenly care about each other so much?
You tried your best to remain as neutral as possible as you very lowly answered, “Outside.”
You didn’t want to tell him, you didn’t even want to speak to him in the first place and You sure as hell didn’t want to leave him alone with Mizu. How could anyone trust him? Sure people change, and most of what he did to Mizu was from when they were kids… but your concern still stands. Who knows, maybe he’s still an asshole.
But in the end, it wasn’t your choice on whether he and Mizu got closer. You would protest it, and you‘d protest it hard but when it comes to it, if Mizu for some reason completely unknown to you decided he was good enough to keep around you’d have to be okay with it.
Some time had passed since they had both woken up. Mizu had gone out to try and remake her sword and Taigen had gone off to… well you didn’t really know nor did you care. You had been sitting outside on the snow covered ground, looking up at the night sky, trying to just clear your mind.
You didn’t like feeling so angry all the time, especially over someone who you personally had no reason to truly be angry at. You felt guilty, it wasn’t your place to make such decisions on who was good for Mizu and who wasn’t but you couldn't help it. It felt almost as if it was some kind of instinct, but you couldn’t really place what it was or why you felt it. All you knew was that you hadn’t felt like this before, and it frightened you. You didn’t want to be so pushy or mean to the two just because you didn’t enjoy one person's presence.
You sighed as you continued to stare up at the sky.
“What is wrong with me?” You whispered quietly to yourself.
While you were having your moment of self reflection, you noticed Taigen who had made his way back from the village carrying food. The guilt you felt seemed to double as you looked at him, so you simply looked the other way.
He walked inside the house not even sparing you a glance, he probably didn’t even know you were there. You were sitting in almost complete darkness, the only light being the glow from the fire inside and the moonlight. You enjoyed the isolating feeling it gave, it felt as if time had stopped as you stared at the bright moon above. You were completely lost in thought, zoning out as you stared at the moon. The only thing to snap you out of it was the sound of a large thud, as if something had hit the ground.
You panicked thinking that Taigen had attacked, just as you thought he would. You rushed over to the door of the house but you stopped once you noticed the position the two of them were in. They were so close to each other, and it didn’t seem like they were actually fighting with each other. You hid behind the door frame, not wanting your presence to be known as you thought about what you had just seen.
Does she actually like him? Why are they so close to each other? Is this seriously happening?
All these questions ran through your head as you backed away from the door. So badly did you want to ‘accidentally’ stumble inside and ruin the moment but then you knew you’d feel even more guilty about it. You just tried to let it go and move on with your night.
You tried.
The next day you had become incredibly standoffish. Mainly towards Mizu and Taigen which made it especially noticeable. Anytime Mizu had asked anything of you, you wouldn’t respond like normal, in fact this time you barely responded at all. Usually you seemed so happy to do anything within her company, but now it was as if you were looking right past her.
When Taigen would even attempt to talk to you, you wouldn’t even make a move to acknowledge his existence.
It was extremely petty and you knew that, but you seriously had no other way to deal with your emotions. You were trying your hardest to keep your thoughts down and just be happy for the two that you thought had some kind of chemistry but you weren’t getting far.
Later that night, you walked into the same room as Mizu. she had been sitting down drinking something from her cup, and staring off into the distance deep in thought. Once you had noticed her, you didnt give your normal greeting, you just sat down across from her and paid her no mind.
“What is your problem?” She finally asked. You simply looked at her, your face was as empty of emotion as you could make it.
“What do you mean? I don’t have a problem.” You lied, trying to not get ahead of yourself. You had so many things that were just so eager to get out, but you didn’t want to share them. You wanted to keep quiet and never mention a single one. If you never mention your problems you don’t have to feel guilty about them, right?
Mizu stared at you, astonished by your persistence with this new attitude.
“Why won't you acknowledge me?” She asked. You averted your gaze by the slightest bit, the guilty feeling coming back.
“I’m acknowledging you right now.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I don't understand your problem here, I’m the exact same.” You lied. You were trying so hard to keep everything under control.
“No you’re not. We both know that.”
“Since when were you an expert on personalities?”
Just because you were trying hard to keep your cool, doesn’t mean you were doing good at it.
“Since I’ve known you for almost a year.”
“You don’t know everything, you know.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Taigen, you seem to go to him for everything anyways.” You didn’t mean to let that slip. If you could take back the words you had just said, you would’ve in an instant. You knew once you had brought up Taigen you wouldn’t be able to stop.
“What is wrong with you?” She asked, confused by your attitude towards every single thing she said. You would never act like this normally, so why now? It almost frightened her, it reminded her a bit of how the people in her past would turn on her so suddenly based on some trait about her, so she assumed the worst.
“There’s nothing wrong with me, Taigen is the problem!” You shouted, now standing up to make your point clear, which took Mizu by surprise. You had never truly gotten so angry before and especially not at her.
“What did he do? Did he do something to you?” She asked, a whole new level of possibilities jumped forward in her mind. She had let her guard down around Taigen, what if he had made a move on you and she didn’t know.
“Are you kidding? I’m not worried about me, I'm worried about you! I mean, what hasn’t he done to you. You’re telling me he was an asshole to you for the entire duration of your childhood that you spent together, and then he suddenly comes waltzing back in claiming he wants to kill you? And then you forgive him? You saved his life sure but now he wants to act all buddy buddy with you? Are you serious? You’re setting yourself up for failure here.” As you went on your ramble, Mizu had begun to relax as she realized the situation. Her eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of her, an amused expression creeping its way onto her face.
“Hey.” Mizu began but you could barely hear her over the sound of your own voice.
“You could’ve picked anyone else to start getting close with and I would’ve been fine with it. I mean I don’t control who you can and cannot be close with, but him? Seriously?” You continued.
“Hey.” Mizu repeated, once again trying to get your attention to no avail.
“I mean, you could do so much better. The guy who bullied you for years on end? Oh please, even I would be a better candidate than him, not that I’m saying I should be, but I could be-”
“Stop talking.” Mizu had raised her voice just enough for you to finally hear her and take the hint. You immediately stopped yourself and looked at her with a shocked expression. You had gotten so lost in your thoughts you almost forgot you were ranting to her in the first place. You watched as Mizu’s stern expression shifted to one of a more… smug nature as she stared at you, her eyes looking at you from just above the rim of her glasses so you could see the color in its entirety.
“Are you… jealous?” Mizu asked, an amused smile very evident on her face as she slightly turned to you. Your head shot towards her direction as you opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out.
She was right, you were jealous. Really jealous. You had gotten so lost in your hatred towards Taigen you had forgotten to take a step back and realize how stupid your actions looked.
“I just… don’t think he’s right for you.” You muttered, crossing your arms in defiance as you averted your gaze. You weren’t looking at her but you could tell the woman was just staring at you with a very plain look, a look that probably said something along the lines of ‘are you serious?’
“Not right for me?” She asked, placing her dish down on the ground before looking back up at you. Once she had looked back towards you she had realized you still weren't looking at her, and that wasn’t going to do.
“Look at me.” She demanded. Her tone was not harsh but she was quite stern about it. You did as she said without another question, turning your head to look at her even though you wanted to do anything else but that at the moment.
“What do you mean he’s not right for me?” She asked again, wanting a serious answer out of you.
“I saw the two of you… last night. When you were sparring. I saw how you looked at him and I just. I don’t think he’s a good choice for you.” You admitted. You felt so stupid, couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut and moved on like an adult. Why did you have to be so petty about someone who didn’t even reciprocate your feelings? You were friends, why would you become anything more than that?
She didn’t say anything in response, she simply stared at you as she usually did, but this time her staring made you feel so small. You already felt guilty about feeling this way and now that you had actually said it out loud to Mizu’s face and all she was doing was staring, it made the feeling unbearable. You wanted to cry, but you wouldn't dare to, not now. To risk looking even more childish than you do already? You’d rather die.
“Then who do you think would be a better choice?” She inquired, earning nothing more than a shrug from you. You had said what you needed and you feared if you said anything more you would dig yourself into a deeper hole. “Come on, you don’t have anyone in mind?”
She was teasing you.
She wasn’t mad?
Why was she playing into this, why wasn’t she upset with you placing your own opinions on her feelings.
“I don’t know… literally anyone else?” You responded quietly, not really wanting to answer the question.
“What, like you?” She retorted with a playful scoff.
“I didn’t say that.” You denied, quite defensively one might add.
“Yes you did.” She corrected.
“You heard me wrong.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I heard you wrong.” She repeated, confirming the fact that you were actually trying to play that card.
You nodded.
“So you didn’t say, ‘even I would be a better candidate than him’.”
Well, she got you there, Those were in fact the words you said. You were in too deep to go back now so you committed to your sense of denial full force.
“Where are you getting these words from?” You tried to play dumb, obviously it wasn’t going to work.
“Don’t try to lie to me, I heard you say them.”
“I wasn’t saying that I would be the only candidate, I was just using myself as an example. I’m not saying that you’d have to pick me over him I’m just saying that in the grand scheme of things I just-” You had begun to ramble yet again. You couldn't stop yourself, you felt like everything you wanted to say needed a further explanation to make it not sound as bad as it did. Luckily, this rant was cut very short.
“Hey.” Mizu said, very quickly getting you to shut up unlike the last few times. This time however, she was much closer than she was before. Much, much, closer. You hadn’t noticed that throughout the entire duration of your little banter match, she had slowly made her way towards you and you had absentmindedly been backing away from her. Well, that was until you couldn’t back up any more. Now she was standing no more than a few mere inches away from you, her hands had managed to slither their way onto your waist, holding you in place.
“What…” You whispered. You didn’t know what else to do with yourself, you felt as if you could melt into a puddle right then and there as you stared into her eyes. Her eyes however, had not stayed focused on yours, and instead began to travel around to other areas of your face. You had never really seen this side of her. There would be no reason to really, unless she truly felt the same way.
There wouldn’t be any logic behind Mizu just messing with you to mess with you, she only ever really put up fronts for people she needed information from, and the only information you had was how much you wanted her in that exact moment. You would never say that outloud though.
“Stop talking.” She whispered back, her eyes almost entirely focused on your lips as she very slowly neared you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, moving yourself forward and making the move to seal the kiss yourself.
Words wouldn’t be able to accurately describe how you felt in that moment. Neither of you truly expected it, but the kiss had become a lot more heated way faster than you truly expected. Turns out you both had buried feelings that were going to be known one way or another. Your hands had made their way to Mizu’s hair and her hands had begun to travel away from your waist. Once you had eventually parted from the kiss, you both looked almost surprised that any of that truly happened.
Mizu laughed a bit to herself as she looked at you.
“You know, Jealousy looks good on you.” she said before you rolled your eyes,
“Stop talking.” Was all you said before continuing where you left off.
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thealtoduck · 6 months
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Sweet Juice
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Clark Kent x Male Reader
Content: Greek Mythology AU
Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Reader, Top!Clark, semi-public sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, drunken sex, skinny dipping, spit as lube, missionary position…
Summary: You’re a member of Dionysus following and during a feast you meet a demigod son of Zeus, Clark, also known as the man of steel…
——
You were a lesser deity in a world filled with powerful gods, monsters and heroes. You were the son of the now famous naiad, Daphne. Unfortunately though your mother was no longer with you as she had been turned in to a laurel tree as a form of mercy.
It was considered mercy because the only other option she had was to be violated by Apollo, who was under the spell of Eros after an argument between the two. Apollo feeling bad about the whole ordeal apologised by finding you a place in the retinue of Dionysus and Ariadne.
You didn’t mind this as your duties were pretty much drink, dance, fuck, drink more and generally just to have a good time. It was just constant partying and celebration.
One night when the party had yet to start a visitor came for Dionysus. You were sat close to the god’s throne, you were petting one of his pet leopards when a strange man appeared and entered the god’s camp. He walked slowly towards the olympian. You noted his handsome appearance as he stopped in front of Dionysus.
”Lord Dionysus, you sent for me” the man said in a deep tone. ”I did” Dionysus confirmed before standing up saying loudly ”Everyone! Let me introduce to you to Clark, you may know him as the man of steel!… And also one of my younger half brothers”.
Dionysus followers broke out in cheers for the hero, who seemed slightly confused by the big welcoming. ”I’ve called him here to save us all from the cyclops that has been attacking in the night” Dionysus declared and everyone once again cheered.
”What?! You never told me of any cyclops?!” Clark asked agitated. ”Actually I didn’t tell you anything but you showed up anyway” Dionysus teased him. ”Why don’t you save them yourself?” Clark questioned. However Dionysus only responded with a simple ”Where’s the fun in that?”.
Clark looked irretated at Dionysus and said ”I will not be tricked in to fighting someone else’s battle”. Making the on looking crowd let out disappointed murmurs. Dionysus walked up to the hero and put a hand on his shoulder.
”Come on Clark, do us this favour and we’ll give you the biggest celebration you’ll experince in a life time, with the finest wine and feast, our best music and dancers and if you want you can take to bed anyone you fancy, we don’t judge” Dionysus offered.
Clark took a moment looking around at the crowd surrounding him until his eyes landed on you for a swift moment. He then turned back to Dionysus and said ”Very well, i shall do you this favour”. Once again the crowd including you broke out in cheers and applause for the demigod.
The very next day gifted Clark with a sword, armour and food by Dionysus as he and his followers saw off the hero on his way to save them from the threat of the cyclops.
I didn’t take long for Clark to return as he was back at the camp by next day. He came back in the afternoon covered from head to toe in dirt, dust and a little cyclops blood. Throwing the red painted sword by Dionysus feet.
”Well done” Dionysus complimented looking at the blood drenched sword. Dionysus then turned towards you ”Y/n, take our hero somewhere he can wash off” he commanded. ”Yes, lord Dionysus” you said with a quick bow. He then turned back to Clark and said ”When you return, we feast”.
You went and collected a basket with a bottle of scented oil, a strigil (a tool they used in ancient greece to wash themselves) and a new chiton. ”This way, my lord” you said to Clark and started guiding him through the forest. ”Please, just Clark is fine” he said humbly following you.
You guided him to a secluded pond. ”Impressive, how did you find this place so quickly?” Clark complimented. ”My mother was a naiad, it’s an instinct” you explained putting down the basket next to the pond.
”Would you like me to bring you anything else?” you asked Clark as he started undressing out of the dented armour and dirty chiton. ”You’ve already done enough for me, thank you” he said gentlemanly. Clark was now naked, revealing his muscled body and impressive manhood, which you tried not to look at.
He stepped down in the pond, the water reaching up to his hips. ”Why don’t you join me?” he suggested gesturing towards the water. ”I’d love too, but i have to help the others prepare everything for tonight” you said. ”Come on, only for a short time” Clark tempted. ”Okay” you said with a smile, taking off your chiton and sandals.
Clark watched your naked form with interest as you stepped down in to the water. ”See, it’s nice” Clark said starting to wash himself off using the scented oil you brought for him. You tried not to stare at his oiled up chest but you were 90% sure he caught you looking but he didn’t say anything, he only smirked.
You relaxed in the cool water for a while until you remembered you needed to get back to the others. You climbed out of the pond and started putting on your clothing once again. ”Thanks for the company, hope i’ll see you tonight” Clark said. ”Hope, i’ll see you too” you said and started walking through the forest back towards camp.
That night the music rang loudly through the forest as you celebrated the death of cyclops and your new hero, Clark. You drank and danced wildly with your friends. Some others were already passed out from drinking, some were gambling and playing games and one couple were fucking against a tree.
You saw Clark sitting on a pillow next to Dionysus talking, goblet in hand. You made your way over to the olympian and the demigod. ”Y/n” Dionysus exclaimed happily as he noted your presence. He patted a pillow next to him saying ”Come sit down”.
You took the offer sitting down next to the god, he made your empty goblet instantly refill and put an arm around you. ”I was just telling Clark of my inner circle” Dionysus revealed and continued ”Y/n, here you’ve met, he is my and Ariandne’s favourite attendant and friend” he said sweetly.
”Also he has a body as if sculpted by Pygmalion, carved and smoothed to absolute perfection. You should hope to have a look upon it someday” Dionysus said taking another sip from his goblet.
”Actually i already have” Clark stated boldly making Dionysus spill some wine on himself. ”Y/n, joined me for a swim in the pond” Clark explained making your cheeks heat up slightly. ”Is that so?” Dionysus questioned looking towards you.
”Well, i’ve got to go find Ariadne” Dionysus said getting up leaving you and Clark. ”Are you and Dionysus-?” Clark started but you cut him off saying ”No, he and Ariadne just have a very open relationship”. ”How has your night been?” you then questioned the hero.
”Enjoyable but i’ve never been much of a party person” he said then taking a sip from his cup. ”I get it, before i came here i wasn’t either” you told him and then got an idea. ”Wanna go for a walk for some peace and quiet?” you asked. ”Sure, i’d love too” Clark said and the two of you stood up and walked off in to the forest behind you bringing your goblets with you.
You walked and talked for a while, drinking until your goblets were didn’t have a single drop left in them. Dionysus must’ve brought out the strong stuff because you and Clark were stumbling around and slurring your speech, you were laughing loudly at each others stories, sitting very close together.
Finally the two of you ended up behind some bushes close by to the party. You started to passionately make out, you laying on your back in the soft grass and Clark on top of you. Clark tore open your chiton and undressed you, leaving your naked form beneath him.
He then took off his own clothes revealing his muscular body and his hard cock. Clark took his hand and brought it to your mouth, you sucked on his fingers to get them wet, then he brought his moist fingers to your enterance and started pushing finger inside you.
You let out a small gasp as Clark started to finger you open, he added another fiinger and then another until you were ready to take him. Clark spit in to his hand and rubbed it over his erect manhood.
”It’s time i claim my reward” Clark said spreading your legs, he lined himself up with you and started pushing his hard cock in to your warmth. Clark loved the seeing the face you made as his cock slowly filled you up.
”Fuck your so big” you hissed as the demigod was fully sheated deep inside you. He then slowy started moving pushing himself in and out of you as a wave of pleasure started washing over you.
Your legs were wrapped around Clark as he thrusted in to you. ”I’m gonna fuck your little nymph hole full with my seed” Clark groaned in to your ear and placed kisses all along your neck. The demigod started speeding up his thrusts.
”Clark, fuck yeah! Take me” you said in ecstasy grabbing at his back as he fucked your hole. Both of your bodies had started gleaming from sweat as he mounted you under the moonlight, as his reward for defeating the cyclops.
Clark’s thrusts became rougher as he wanted to take you like a real demigod would, he loved how your walls clenched around his thick cock. He brutally fucked you with all the strength of his godly heritage to bring you to your release.
You let out breathy moans as Clark pounded your gaping hole, thrusting against your prostate. You felt yourself getting close to your orgasm. You dug your nails in to the grass below as Clark’s cock made you see Mount Olympus.
”Clark, i’m gonna cum” you said panting heavily making Clark thrust deeper as he wanted to push you over the edge. Then your cock started spraying cum all over your and Clark’s stomachs. Clark’s own release was getting close.
”I’m gonna plant my seed deep inside you” Clark moaned and his rough thrusts became uneven and sloppy. Clark delivered one last deep stroke in to you and he erupted inside you, he flooding your insides with his cum.
Both of you panted heavily and Clark rolled over and layed next to you in the grass. ”You were amazing” Clark praised while softly stroking your cheek. The two of you then used your torn clothes as blankets as you cuddled close together and you both fell asleep under the starry sky.
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astrophileous · 6 months
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Hmmmmm for Hotch maybe him lowkey coddling reader when she gets hurt shortly during a case shortly after they start dating? Maybe the team wasn’t aware until they saw him fret this much when he had never done it to this level in the past? 🥹
Thanks for the request babes!! My first Aaron fic ever, so hopefully it's not too bad for a first 🥺 I hope this is to your liking ❤️
Warning(s): gn!reader, established relationship, talks of traffic accident, mentions of injuries, protective hotch, mean words (hotch is just worried abt you ok??)
This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.
Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
You heard him before you even laid eyes upon him.
Amidst the beeping machines and the moderate ruckus of the emergency room, Aaron's voice penetrated the air like a sword. The authority dripped like lava from his tone as he badgered Derek for your whereabouts, and before you could shuffle out of the hospital bed that had been your safe haven for the past hour, the cubical curtain surrounding you was suddenly yanked open.
Your movements ceased once you locked eyes with a frowning Aaron Hotchner.
"Hey—"
"Are you insane?"
You looked at him dumbfoundedly.
"Do you have a death wish? Is that it? Or are you just stupid?"
A few feet behind him, you could see Derek and Emily exchanging silent looks between the two of them. Everyone knew that Aaron was notorious for being frigid, and he had a strong impartiality when it came to any of his team members doing something impetuous on the field, but the words seeping out of Aaron's mouth at that moment sounded overtly harsh to those who knew him.
"Hotch—" Derek took a step forward, trying to come to your defense, "—it's not (Y/N)'s fault."
"I'm not talking to you." Aaron's response was cutting and final. It baffled Derek enough for him to trace his step back.
"What's wrong with you?" you asked once the shock dissipated, returning your voice to its rightful owner once more. "Why are you being like this?"
"Me? You're asking me? I should be the one asking you."
Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "We were chasing the UnSub—"
"You went rogue," he cut you off. "Morgan told me everything. There's no point in denying it."
Derek raised his arms in surrender when your stare of betrayal slid his way. "Fine. I'm sorry I grabbed a random civilian's bike and crashed it against the UnSub's car. You don't have to worry about paying anything back, I'll figure something out."
"Is that what you think this is about?" Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose. "I could care less about monetary compensations. We can deal with that later. You could've been killed, don't you understand?"
It was his last admission that finally made the pieces in your head click into place. Beneath the anger inside Aaron's words was actually a hidden anxiety ready to break free. He was worried about you, even if he was showing it in the least hospitable way possible.
Your relationship with Aaron was young; green around the edges and blooming every single day like tulips in spring. Nobody else in the world knew about it yet, and the two of you wanted to keep it that way. At least, that was what you agreed upon after having that lengthy discussion following your first official date.
And yet, none of that mattered when your fingers opted to reach out for Aaron's hand. You pretended not to notice the gasp that Emily let out as you urged your boyfriend to look into your eyes.
"I know you're worried, but I'm fine. I'm right here with you, and I'm okay." Aaron's shoulders physically collapsed at your reassurance. Every other noise in the hospital seemed to drown out in the aftermath. "The doctor's gonna clear me in no time, trust me."
"It still doesn't erase the fact that what you did was reckless." Aaron stepped closer towards the bed, overcrowding your senses as his thumb swept over your left eyebrow, just below the wound you had obtained from the crash. "Does it hurt?"
You shook your head no. The injury to your head was relatively minor. Your arm, on the other hand, was sustaining a quite sizable gash from your collision with the car.
Aaron's eyes followed your gaze that had meandered towards the gauze covering your arm. "How many stitches?"
Reluctantly, you answered, "Seven."
You heard his sharp breath before he turned around to face Derek. "Where's the UnSub now?"
Derek jerked his head to the right, where you reckoned the UnSub was being treated for their own injuries from the crash. The words of protest died in your throat as Aaron began to saunter to the other end of the ER with Derek hot on his heels.
With the two men's departure, Emily was the only one who remained.
"So—" she smiled knowingly, leaning against the foot of your bed, "—you and Hotch? When did that happen?"
You slammed your head back on the pillow, muffling your groan with your uninjured arm. "Shut up."
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wlntrsldler · 26 days
Text
keep that to yourself | luke castellan
song: keep that to yourself by tristan
synopsis: luke survives the battle of manhattan and returns to camp half blood. he sees you and apologizes for all the damage he's done.
a/n: not associated with my other exbf!luke one shot, just obsessed with writing exbf!luke rn lol. please listen to the song bc it actually broke me.
luke castellan was never mean to you. he was always the boy with the kind eyes and gentle smile. the boy who was the first camper you met at 16 when you stumbled into camp half blood, terrified and partly relieved that you'd finally found sanctuary after two years of fending for yourself.
he offered his bed to you when you walked into the hermes cabin, stating that nobody deserved to sleep on the hardwood floors in a sleeping bag on their first night at camp. it was unusual for the head counselor to give up the bed they earned for a new camper, but you didn't know that then. you didn't question why luke never offered it to any new campers who entered the cabin throughout the years.
luke castellan was never mean to you. he was always the boy who stole extra pieces of dessert at dinner because he knew you had a sweet tooth. he noticed that when it came to burning offerings, you'd always frown knowing that you'd have to save your dessert to pray to your parent, so he started stealing an extra slice of cake or a fruit platter or the corner piece of the brownies.
when he passed by your table, he'd slide the plate on your tray and offer a shy smile before walking away. the grateful look in your eye every time he did this was cemented in his brain. you looked at him with so much adoration in your eyes and luke promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep you looking at him like that.
luke castellan was never mean to you. he was always the boy who spent too much time helping you train because once kronos started visiting his dreams, he knew he wouldn't always be there to protect you. he would stay in that secluded part of the woods with you until the sun disappeared from the sky.
he would push you to your limit and you'd give it your all until your bones ached and you collapsed in exhaustion in his arms. then, he would kiss your temple and tell you that you did so well and joke that you were going to surpass him as the best swordsman at camp soon enough. you'd end the night winding down, pointing out the constellations in the sky, until the ominous sounds of the creatures lurking would force the two of you to retire to your respective cabins. he'd bid you goodnight with a soft kiss to your lips and a promise that he'll be outside your cabin door, bright and early, ready to take on the world with you the next day.
luke castellan was never mean to you, until he was. the fireworks in the sky illuminated his face in an eerie way, fire and anger dancing in the brown of his eyes as he pointed his sword at percy. you screamed at him to stop, to drop his sword, and he scoffed at you, calling you a traitor for taking the side of a boy you'd only met a few days ago. he accused you of betraying him, of never loving him, because you turned your back on him.
his words still ring in your ears years later. and when he walked into camp half blood, terrified and partly relieved thinking that the worst was over, that kronos was gone and he managed to survive the battle of manhattan, all you could think of was how he spoke to you that night.
there was a pain in your chest when he walked in with annabeth and percy. there were new scars on his body, two new ones that joined the scar on his face that you used to kiss. he looked older, too, sunken eyes and a slight hunch to his back, but he still looked like luke. your luke.
when he saw you, there was a stutter in his step that had percy gripping his arm to keep him steady. when the younger boy realized what luke was looking at, he offered you a small, apologetic smile. you tried to return the gesture, but your lips formed a grimace. you clutched your chest, standing frozen in your spot as your eyes raked over luke's body.
"y/n."
you closed your eyes at the sound of your name leaving his lips. it hurts to hear it. you gulped, blinking away the tears that were pooling in your eyes. when you finally found the strength to move, luke broke away from percy's grip and walked towards you, despite the warnings from the kids behind him.
there hasn't been a day since he left where luke didn't regret the way he left things with you. he wasn't himself then, but even that didn't excuse the way he treated you. he'd spent too many nights practicing what he would say to you, how he would apologize, how he would plead for your forgiveness if the gods showed him mercy and somehow blessed him with the opportunity to see you again.
now that he had the chance, he realized that it was not a blessing. this was a punishment from the gods; a punishment for his actions in the last few years, a punishment worse than death. you were looking at him like you hated him, like you wanted nothing to do with him. you looked at him like he was a stranger to you and it killed him slowly because he still felt like you were every memory, every hope, every lifeline he'll ever have.
luke knew he couldn't blame you. you had a million reasons to walk away from him right now and leave him here with his tail tucked between his legs. he ruined the one good thing in his life the night he spoke to you like that and accused you of never loving him. how did he ever think that? how did he ever doubt you when you've shown him nothing but the good in this god-forsaken life? it haunted him. it still haunts him.
"don't."
luke's lips formed a straight line. he looked down at your feet, a shudder trickling down his spine when he saw the fading doodles on your shoes that he drew with sharpie years ago.
"you don't get to talk to me," you said. "you don't get to do that, okay?"
"i just want to apologize."
"you don't get to do that," you repeated, voice wavering as you spoke. you wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt, clenching your jaw, "it's not fair."
"y/n, please," he begged, "please."
"no, i've grieved losing you already," you croaked out, crossing your arms over your chest, "i've already accepted that i lost you. you don't get to come back to my life for any reason."
"baby..."
"you're so mean, luke," you cried, pushing him back. he let you shove him and hit his chest. he knew you were pulling your punches. he stood there and took it, biting his bottom lip as he watched you break down in front of him, unable to hold you in his arms. "you're so fucking mean, you know that? you were gone for years and so many people died and got hurt because of you. and you come in here and use how i feel about you to your advantage. how fucking cruel can you be?"
"i know, i know, i messed up really badly, but you gotta believe me. i didn't do it to hurt you."
you scoffed, backing away from him, "but you did."
"luke," annabeth approached the two of you, placing a hand on luke's back. "we should go, get you checked out at the infirmary."
you sniffled, wrapping your arms around yourself as you looked away to hide your tears from the pair. luke reached out to touch you, but he quickly dropped his hand when you flinched. his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he tried to keep his emotions at bay. he wiped his eyes, giving annabeth a small nod.
he looked back at you, hoping that your eyes would meet his, but you never turned around. luke sighed sadly, following his younger sister to the infirmary. you didn't turn around to watch him leave until he turned the corner, disappearing from your view.
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Text
They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 2
Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Y/N's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison
Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF.
Part One
✨💫
Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Y/N’s story? What were those burns from? If Y/N was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.
The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”
Feyre didn’t so much as move.
Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prison and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amren was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.
Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.
“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.
“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.
“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”
“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”
Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.
The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”
They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.
“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.
“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”
“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”
“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly not.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”
There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Y/N. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”
Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.” 
Another pause and Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left with the scars from the burns.”
The image of Y/N gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Y/N. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Y/N, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”
The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males to be able to produce another generation of warriors. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned, she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Y/N before either of them even considered it. Y/N interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”
The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Y/N’s hair came into her mind’s eye.
“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Y/N. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Y/N was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Y/N, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just clip them.”    
The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.    
“I suspect that if Y/N was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Y/N’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Y/N himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Y/N after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Y/N after the name of a bakery in Velaris she adored. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Y/N is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”   
The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Y/N’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Y/N were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.
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bby-deerling · 5 months
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Omg i need to read something where law gets jealous (there’s too much pining/tension) because I dont see it enough!!!! who is it x law pretty pleaseeee or I’ll take any similar recommendation 😩💛
thank you galaxy brained anon for this request!!!!!!! happy laws fingers friday for those who celebrate (posting this at 11:59 it still counts)!
law + who is it (nsfw, afab!reader)
18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.6k masterlist
cw: jealousy, oral sex (law receiving), pining and yearning, law is an idiot sometimes, no pronouns used but reader is loosely implied to be wearing a kimono (or something else easy access)
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Grip harsh on the sheath of his sword, Trafalgar Law was more than eager for this festival to be over so he could be done with this alliance and leave Wano behind forever.  Selfishly, the throbbing of his head from Luffy and Kid’s antics and his palpable frustration at the chaos that surrounded them paled in comparison to the pain from the twisted green thorns impaling his heart as he lurked in the shadows, eavesdropping on Kid making his move on you.
It wasn’t the first time either—both Kid and Killer had taken an interest in you on the docks last night.  Despite your rejection of their brazen advances, the sight was enough to make Law storm back aboard the Polar Tang and nearly claw his own eyes out, frustrated at the way the feelings he harbored for you were causing him to become completely unglued and far removed from his usual, collected self.
By no means did you belong to him, other than as a subordinate and a close friend, but the reality of the situation did nothing to soothe the possessiveness boiling in his veins.  He had spent years pining over you, engaging in a delicate back and forth of pushing the envelope with you, and prior to recent events, he thought these crumbs of affection and teasing would be enough for him to subsist on.  Relationships were tricky work, especially at sea where one’s life is a string, constantly dangling between the blades of a pair of scissors and ready to be cut short at a moment’s notice; in truth, Law had never experienced feelings like these before and wasn’t sure he knew how to be in a relationship, but seeing the tentative, unlabeled connection between you become threatened by that hot-headed brute made his brain go haywire.
Soft yellow light from the lanterns illuminating the street frames your face; you were as gorgeous tonight as you were any other, eyes shining bright with the mischief and sharp wit that he adored, and Law finds himself getting lost in your face until the harsh, unpleasant rumble of Kid’s voice reaches his eardrums.
“What’s your deal?  Got anyone you’re fooling around with?” Kid asks you, lips curled into a sneer as he eyes you up and down.
You shake your head.  “Nope, but if I did, they’d probably have eyebrows.” you tease, crossing your arms and leaning back against the wall behind you. 
Law watches cautiously, prepared for an explosion from the emotionally immature giant who hated nothing more than to be poked fun at.  Surprisingly, Kid simply chuckles and continues to banter with you, making Law grit his teeth in annoyance.
“But you’ve got someone you’re waiting around for, don’t you?  You wouldn’t be playing so hard to get with me if you weren’t holding out for someone else.” he says, taking a step forward and placing his good hand on the wall behind you.
You roll your eyes—Law hopes it’s because you’re annoyed at the presumption that you were playing hard to get in the first place. “Why do you care so much about what’s going on with me?”
“Because I think you can do better than Trafalgar.  Don’t you think he’s compensating for something with that sword?” Kid teases; you wince at the chill of his metal finger tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.
“And you aren’t?” you ask, moving your face out of his grip and tapping his prosthetic arm.  “The way to my heart isn’t by speaking poorly about Law.”
Not directly having told him to buzz off yet, Kid continues to take your resistance as a challenge.  “Fine.  He’s not worth the breath anyways.  Let’s talk about you instead.  You’re smoking hot, and Killer and I want to show you what a good time looks like with real pirates worth their salt.  Simple as that.”  The look on your face is difficult to read at a distance, and Law’s heartbeat quickly starts to get out of control, mind spiraling at the possibility that you were even remotely considering the offer.
A passerby lingers in Law’s line of sight and blocks his view, and he’s overcome by dread; blood running cold, he feels damned and wretched as he desperately cranes his neck to try to get a glimpse of you.  All he can see is Kid’s head leaning in closer to your face, and he finally snaps and allows himself to act on impulse, running into a nearby alley and bringing you towards him with a whisper of the word shambles.
His rational mind immediately regrets his decision to not think things through further and formulate a plan.   Using his devil fruit to pull you away from Kid confirmed that Law was weak for you—something that could be used as ammunition against him later if your crews met again on less peaceful terms.  More urgently, Law was not in any way emotionally prepared to have the conversation that he had summoned you here for, all of his words drying up on his tongue as he watches you adjust to your new surroundings and stare at him with wide-eyed gratitude.
His stuttering heartbeat quickens to the point of hurting as you throw your arms around him and bury your head into his chest. “Thanks for getting me out of that, Law.  You know how I freeze up when I get uncomfortable.” you mumble, glad to be free from Kid caging you against the wall and propositioning you.
Drowning in the feeling of you pressed against him, he holds you tight and allows his head to rest on top of yours.  The silence that settles in the air as you squeeze him lasts long enough for him to form a tentative plan of his next few moves to gently tell you how he feels—a plan that completely falls apart when you break the embrace and trace your fingers along the sheath of Kikoku.
“So, Captain,” you murmur with a teasing smile, “is it true you’re compensating for something?”  Law swallows hard, knowing you’re simply messing around, but something about hearing Kid’s words echoed back at him spurs him to act.  Blood running hot with irritation, envy, and lust, he can’t help but revert to acting on impulse.
“Why don’t you get on your knees and find out?” he shoots back without thinking, crossing his arms as he leans back.
“Out here?” you choke out, face burning; Law doesn’t miss the way your thighs rub against each other, confidence rising with the knowledge that you were craving him too.
“If you want me in my bed too, I can indulge you later.” he replies.  He watches your reaction carefully; for a moment he considers stopping here and playing this off as a bit and pushing things off to another day as he always did, but his heart catches in his throat as you drop to your knees and gaze up at him expectantly.
He shoots you a look to confirm you’re serious—an affirmative nod is all it takes for him to unbutton his jeans and free his cock.  You inhale sharply at the sight; he’s long with medium girth, and truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how you were going to fit all of him down your throat.
“Satisfied?” he taunts, amused at your reaction and staring down at you with darkened eyes.
“Very.” you reply, reaching one of your hands up to stroke him experimentally, softly sighing at the sinful sight of him in your grasp.
Law lets out a quiet groan as you stroke him, mind abuzz at the sensation, but still unable to curb his smart mouth.  “Quit staring and suck it, then.” he rasps, dragging his thumb down your cheek.  A chuckle escapes your lips as you take him in your mouth; he gasps at how warm and wet you are around his cock, and his hand tangles itself in your hair, desperate to feel as much of you at once as he can.
He guides your head but doesn’t push, letting you adjust to his length at your own pace.  Your hand pumps him at an even rhythm, timed with the circular drag of your tongue along his shaft as you bob your head.  Lewd chokes and muffled gasps fill the air as you take more of him in your mouth; the sounds you make are heavenly enough to make him want to lose control, but he holds out, wanting to feel every bit of what you had to give him.
“You’re taking me so good.” he praises; you moan softly in reply and swipe your tongue along his tip as your head retracts, making his breath hitch.  Shameless and messy, your thigh twitches as your drool splatters across it; your pupils are blown out with lust, and Law runs his thumb along your jawline reassuringly as you sharply inhale and take him as far as you can, head of his cock dipping down into your throat.
“Fuck, you feel good.  Just for me...” he whimpers, legs beginning to tremble as he feels himself getting close.  The sight of your doe-eyes staring up at him, tears running down your cheeks from your choking and spit in your hair is enough to make him spill down your throat, breathing ragged as waves of ecstasy take over his body, making him a slave to the pleasure you’re supplying him.  As he comes down from his high and catches his breath, the smile you give him is dripping with pride, and nearly springs his cock into action all over again.
“C’mere.” he purrs, pulling you to your feet and capturing your lips with his own as he pins you against the wall.  Inked fingers creep up your legs and rub circles into your inner thighs as his tongue pushes into your mouth, desperate to deepen the kiss. Pushing your panties to the side, he swipes two fingers along your slit, making you gasp and leaving him smirking at how wet you were for him.
“Your turn.  I’ve got to prove I’m worth my salt, after all.”
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powdermelonkeg · 4 months
Text
Thoughts on the thunder wizard again.
Genuinely, I find Gale's relationship with Mystra to be fascinating when you consider all its facets. Unhealthy, imbalanced, definitely poisonous, but also very, very intricate with a lot of blurred edges to it. One of those things where you're both like "wow, what the hell, that's horrible" but also "that makes perfect sense for their characters, and while I would NEVER, I know why they would, and why it happened."
You've got a wizard who doesn't know what real love is, who thinks he's finally being shown it by the person he adores most. His greatest fantasy, his most potent joy, his most heartfelt aspirations, and they were all offered to him.
And he wants to see what all she's hiding from him, because of course he does. She's the keeper of all things forbidden to him. The empire of Netheril reached magical heights that will never be touched again, and all that knowledge is beyond her curtain. She loves him, right? Surely, if he proves himself enough, she'll let him grasp that power he so desperately wants.
And not even in the power-hungry sense! All that magic Mystra's locked up was accessible during Mystryl's reign. Think of all the answers to theories about the universe that are back there. Every question of "can this be done, and what would it do" would be answered, if he could just bargain hard enough.
She loves him, right?
Surely, if he proves himself enough...
And then, on the other hand, Mystra. Once Midnight, her human personality has been subsumed by the goddess of magic and her duty to the Weave. She has a responsibility to magic, she IS magic.
Then along comes this mortal boy who knows how to handle her Weave. Who doesn't try to wrestle with and dominate, who sings to it. He handles it with such ease and grace—it's not just that he could be Chosen, but he deserves it. To put her Weave in the hands of someone so intrinsically in tune with it, who understands its potential with a wonder like no other. Few enough can handle the raw power that comes with being Chosen, but this one? This one is perfect.
And he adores you. And you adore him, like one would a beautiful butterfly that's landed on their finger. And he's willing to be devoted to you in all things, not out of transaction like most of your worshipers are, but out of love for you, your craft, your magic. You're so deeply and utterly charmed by him.
And it's not like Mystra hasn't walked this path before.
She gives him what he desires, because what he desires is her. And, in a different way, she desires him. She wants him to be her representation in the world. She indulges his adoration with her own presence, and takes indulgence herself in mortal comforts. He's never satisfied with her answers, but who could blame him? She keeps a whole world away from mortals, because she knows what such unfettered power might bring about (again).
And the wizarding prodigy's ambition is lit (again).
And the height of power is reached for (again).
And she stops him (again, again, again).
She does care for him. She doesn't want to see her little butterfly burn himself, and she doesn't want to be the one to ruin those wings.
But then he's not a butterfly. He's a mortal, wielding a weapon of murder, of her murder, and he's brought it to her doorstep because she told him "no." And he's cut himself on it, he doesn't know what it is, but it's hurt him—and it's only a fraction of the hurt it could do to her. How dare he want her help after threatening her?
(He didn't mean to.)
(He only wanted to help.)
(He only wanted. How human.)
She doesn't help him. If he wants to pursue Karsus' weaponry, it's his responsibility, his hubris, that led him to injuring himself on it. She's furious. She's hurt. She's cold.
(What fools these mortals be.)
But then, there's a greater threat to her. Something that could drown the Material in Karsus' failings. And that little boy, who nicked himself on the sword he lifted, still wants her help.
It's a fair trade, isn't it? She'll forgive him, let him into her domain again, if he accepts his punishment and goes into battle for her. He picked up a sword, it's appropriate that he learns to use it in her name, right?
If he was telling the truth, he wouldn't hesitate. If he really wanted to serve her with the Netherese Orb, he would jump at the opportunity to do so. He would have to give up a few petty things in the process, ("petty," she calls mortality, as if family and home mean nothing, as if friends and love are finite. Because to her, they do mean nothing. Because to her, they are finite.) but it isn’t atonement without sacrifice, is it?
It's the tactical move. She's not above hurting one man to save a nation. It's not even the first time she's done it.
(Dornal Silverhand sends his regards.)
If he loves her, he'd die for her, because she'd let him into her paradise. If he doesn't love her, he won't, and she was justified in removing him from her grace.
He doesn't love her. Not anymore.
Does he hate her enough to try to take his dues?
Ambition has always been man's greatest folly.
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whoistartaglia · 2 years
Text
you ask him to open a jar that you superglued shut.
includes: xiao, zhongli, ayato, thoma, and itto.
warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff.
notes: please this is the favorite thing i've written so far.
xiao.
xiao prided himself on always being available when you needed help. so when you called him and presented him with a tightly shut jar, xiao was more than accepting to help you open it. 
except that he couldn’t.
xiao frowned when the lid didn’t budge. he tried again, repositioning his hands on jar, but still the lid refused to moved. and then again. and again.
it was only when you let out a quiet wheeze did xiao stop. he looked up and saw you, your face flushed from trying to hold back your laughter, tears almost coming your eyes. 
“what?” he asked, slightly defensive. “what are you laughing at?”
“you,” you got out between laughs. prephaps not the best way to put it. at that, xiao raised flushed in embarassment, and you rushed to catch your breath and explain. 
xiao couldn’t believe he’d been had. especially by you. he threatened to never come to your aid again, especially not for such another “stupid” request. when you pointed out that was an empty threat, xiao only stalked off, not saying another word. 
poor xiao. all he wanted to do was help you. now all he could do was sulk in the corner like a scolded puppy, a perpetual frown on his face for the rest of the day. 
you better apologize. 
zhongli.
zhongli had faced many hardships and challenges in his few thousand years of life, but the small jar in front of him was proving to be one of the toughest yet. 
he underestimated its potential when you handed it to him with what he thought was a simple request. zhongli might have even laughed if he got it on the first try after your futile attempts. but he had lost count of how many times he tried to failed to unscrew the lid, and he no longer felt like laughing now. 
“it’s like,” he said as he tried yet again, “you superglued it shut.”
“no, i didn’t.” your answer, too quick. too defensive. too prepared. 
zhongli paused mid attempt. he glanced up at you, and you saw the realization slowly dawn on him. “you did superglue it shut.”
you shook your head and said again, “what? no, i wouldn’t have, i swear it.” 
your smile was nervous and forced and completely guilty. it faltered as zhongli put the jar down, crossed his arms, and gave you a disapproving look. “was this really the best prank you could come up with?”
“i’d like to see you do anything better.”
“is that a challenge?” zhongli asked. he didn’t let you answer. “if so, then i gladly accept. just be warned, [you]. i won’t be holding back.”
his eyes twinkled with all things mischievous. although you might have won this round, you suspected that zhongli would have the last laugh after all. 
ayato.
ayato, ever the intellectual, didn’t at first try to unscrew the jar. instead, he immediately began to run it under warm water. then, very unceremoniously, ayato whacked the jar against the countertop. after a few hard strikes, he then attempted to unscrew the lid. 
imagine his surprise when his methods of loosening the jar didn’t work. he tried again to the same result. 
you should have stopped him then. told him it was a prank, had your laugh, and rested on your laurels. 
but no, you decided to wait and prolong the humorous display before you. you watched as ayato moved around the kitchen, grabbing anything and everything that could aid him in his quest to open your jar. a spoon to wedge open the lid. a paper towel to wrap around the base. a bottle opener to try and break the seal. 
every single method that could have been found on a random blog was now being done in your kitchen. when, at last, ayato exhausted all his various items after failed attempt after failed attempt, you expected him to give up. 
but his face somehow began more determined. you were about to admit to your prank when he cautioned, “stay back.”
you were about to ask why when the flash of ayato’s vision and the quick movements of a hydro sword stopped you. it was over in an instant, and in its wake your jar—
your eyes widened. it was cut cleanly in half. 
“well, that certainly did the trick,” ayato said, quite proud of himself.
you stuttered out a string of incomprehensible noises, unable to fully process what just happened.
“although, i might have gone a little too far.” it was only then did you realize that ayato had not only sliced the jar in half, but the entire countertop, too. cleanly down the middle. ayato shrugged. “oh, well.”
you really should have stopped him earlier.
thoma.
how could you do this to poor, sweet thoma? your boyfriend trusted you entirely and genuinely thought you just needed help opening a particularly stubborn jar. 
now he only felt bad that he couldn’t. and you didn’t have the heart to admit it was a prank, not after he called ayato and ayaka for advice on how to help you. not after he watched several youtube videos on how to open it. not after he consulted google for the better part of an hour. 
you knew that you had to eventually, but as of right now, you were in too deep. prephaps if you got him to stop trying and told him later, it would soften the blow. 
“it’s okay,” you said to thoma as he tried yet again. “it’s really fine. i didn’t really need it opened.”
but thoma would not listen. he steeled himself to try again and—
nothing. the lid didn’t budge. the jar remained perfectly shut. 
and then your worst fears were realized to be true when thoma put his head down and started to sob. you opened you mouth as he practically shook from crying so violently. the frustration had finally got to him.
“no, thoma, please stop!” you said frantically, immediately pushing the cursed jar away from him. 
“if i can’t do this for you, what can i do?”
“don’t say that!” you insisted. and then, without thinking, “it’s just a prank! i glued it shut—“
“so you admit to it?” thoma looked up. no tears stained his cheeks. his voice was completely normal. a hint of a smile even laced his lips. “you admit to pranking me?”
you blinked in surprise. you were played.
thoma trusted you entirely, and he knew you even better. the way you handed him that jar with an innocent little smile… he knew. he knew before you even opened your mouth.
thoma, one. you, zero.
itto.
the first time it wasn’t a prank. when you needed help the previous night to open a subborn jar, you asked itto because you genuinely couldn’t do it yourself. 
“that was nothing!” he boasted after opening the jar with ease. “i could do that blindfolded and upside down, [you]. are you sure you just didn’t want to see how awesome i am?”
“i loosened it,” you protested.
“yeah, yeah,” he dismissed you. itto continued in a carefree tone, “listen! it’s fine. i don’t mind help you out. i can open any jar you give me, i promise.”
you raised an eyebrow at that last part. and now, standing before itto once again, a jar you superglued shut the night before in your hands, you decided to see if itto could really make good on his promise. either that, or recieve a rude awakening. 
as judging by the amount of glue you used, it was going to be the latter. 
“can you please help me with this one?” you asked. your blinked your eyes up at him in a show of innocence. your smug smile was hidden underneath a small pout as you pretended the jar had gotten the best of you. 
“another one?” itto asked in mock exasperation. he grabbed the jar from you and said, “watch and learn.”
itto twisted, and—
it opened. the jar opened. itto had opened the jar as if you hadn’t poured an entire bottle of superglue on the lid and rim. 
your mouth dropped open. itto offered it back to you and asked, “why do you look so surprised?”
“i…” your voice trailed off. telling itto would only further fuel his ego. and you really didn’t want to deal with him talking about it the rest of the night. “i’m not surpised. thanks for… yeah. thanks.”
itto gaze you a puzzled look. then he shrugged and said, “what’d i tell you? i told you i could open any jar.”
you could only nod in agreement. itto had no idea just how correct that statement was.
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ssnowflowers · 5 months
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Grian's alliance with Cleo and Etho is so interesting to me. Because it's so different from every other alliance he's made.
The first alliance made in the Life Series for Grian is the Blue Sword Boys. And it's simply for a diamond sword. This sets an expectation that Grian needs to be useful for an alliance to be worth it.
His alliance to Scar, his desert friend, is built on him selling his life to Scar. An entire life, one of three deaths he gets before never being able to walk the world again. He gives it all to Scar. Because lives are valuable, useful. Servants are useful.
In Last Life, the Southlands are brought together through resources. You go red, there are no gifted lives bringing you back from the brink like in other alliances. You just go. Grian is forced out of the Southlands first, the home he built no longer his. Because by dying, he has proven he isn't useful.
His alliance with Joel is built on the fact that they are both red. That they need one another to survive. That reds live and die alone. They are loyal, because loyalty is useful. And their alliance ends when they stop being red. And it resumes once they are again.
In Double Life, Grian doesn't want to pair with Scar. He quite literally lets out a guttural scream of no. But it's easier to stick around his soulmate. Build Scar a base, babysit him. It's far more useful.
After a certain point, Grian stops viewing alliances as someone loyal. Someone who has your back. Simply, that it is necessary to have friends.
It's useful to have allies, so he jumps at the first opportunity. In Limited Life, he joins Joel and Jimmy because they invite him. He changes his skin, something he has never done before. He engages with bread bridge, he changes things about himself to look useful.
And then in the final sessions, when he loses Jimmy and Joel, he moves along quickly. He even says that Joel is a 'lost cause' and teams up with Pearl and BigB instead.
His wording is so specific too. Not allies, not teammates...friends. This is how he views friendship. A mutual exchange of usefulness.
It's why he's so desperate to make friends in Secret Life. He begs and pleads with people, when he is forced together with Joel he sticks with him like a clingy child, he builds the egg not because he likes it, but because a pretty base can attract friends.
When he asks if he can join Etho and Cleo. They just say yes. No second thoughts. And Grian is still trying to sell himself, prove why they should want him around. And Cleo just has on screen text (aka, inner thoughts) questioning why Grian is still trying to convince them? They've already said yes!
He's so stuck in the mindset of seeming useful, that he's now doing it even when no one is looking for him to be useful.
This is what sets his alliance with them apart from anyone else. He does not have to stick around, or cling to them. He can disappear for most of the session, and be fine.
Cleo and Etho help him out and he helps them in return. Not because he needs to be useful. But because he wants to. Because he has finally found people who just want him around because it's him.
It's such a large shift in his previous alliances, that I can't help but appreciate every little interaction. Because Cleo and Etho are his friends first. Not just allies.
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ultralightpoe · 10 months
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Spellbound - Geralt
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Spellbound - Geralt
Authors Note: I’m back because I quit my job and have a better schedule at the new job 
Warnings: semi smut 
Word Count: 4012
Description: geralt fights his feelings until you get trapped in a spell 
brothel worker! reader x geralt 
Enjoy!
Geralt was going to tear whoever did this to you to pieces. He would gouge their eyes out and make them eat them. 
That was just one of the thoughts that rang through his mind as he cradled you in his arms, your nose bleeding onto his now naked torso, the shirt you had torn off of him a mere moment ago nearly in the fire. 
This was not supposed to be how this happened, this wasn’t supposed to happen at all. He had made himself stay away for this exact reason, everything he loved was destroyed. 
The witcher had always been against you joining the group. 
You had been a brothel worker when you came upon Jaskier six months ago, walking the streets with achy legs from a long shift, smelling of the salt water you had bathed in when you saw a group of men holding him up and beating on him. 
A yell had crossed your lips and without thinking you picked up a log near your feet, launching at the men and swinging anywhere you could to scare them off, hitting a couple of them harshly before they finally scampered away leaving you standing in the mud with a log and the poor fool laying bloody and beaten on the ground. 
You had brought him to your tiny rooms at the brothel, helped him clean up and soon enough he was asking you to join them. You hesitated for a moment, watching him use one of your rags to dot at the cuts along his face before shrugging. 
Anything is better than the life of a brothel worker, right?
Wrong. 
Brothels didn’t have the annoying attitude of Geralt the fucking Witcher. Okay well some did since Jaskier admitted to Geralt being a frequent guest of them, but you had never seen him and you wished you never met him either. 
He spent every waking moment snapping at you, or blatantly ignoring you when you were trying to ask questions. It was either you didn’t exist or everything you did was wrong, and you could never figure out why the way he treated you bothered you so fucking much. 
Men had done far worse to you in that brothel, but Geralt giving you the cold shoulder nearly brought you to tears? What?
Then again none of the men that came to the brothel were like Geralt at all. None of them had those melting golden eyes or the firm touch of a protector, none of them could turn a sword in their hands the way he does or make anyone feel at ease in his presence. 
Well……anyone but you. 
Maybe he knew you had feelings for him, maybe he hated your guts. Many reasons why he never wanted to talk to you filled your head and none of them were good. 
You spent your days obsessing over a man that barely glanced back at you, your horse in the back of the group with Jaskier always a force between you both. 
Geralt takes a moment to tie the corset of your dress so you weren’t exposed before pulling you into his arms and laying you on his bed, moving to grab a cloth from the basin in the corner of the inn room. 
When he returns to your side he takes a chance to slide the hair from your face, swiping the damp cloth along the blood trail your nose left in soft strokes as he watches you sleep. He would make sure you were breathing and comfortable before he went out and broke some limbs. 
It had been six months of that behavior, and it was truly beginning to wear you down. 
The days were spent either passive aggressively ignoring him back for scoffing at any mistake of yours he pointed out. Today was a passive aggressive silent game. 
He had woken you up by snapping in your face and the months of travel and anger were beginning to catch up so you had slapped his hand out of your face, watching a small amount of shock fill his face before his eyes narrowed in anger. 
“You overslept….again.” In the beginning you would have a snarky retort, something mocking his breath or face, but now you merely rolled your eyes and turned your back to him as you packed up your bedroll. He doesn’t seem to understand your silent game since he tries to piss you off once more. “We are going to be behind if you keep sleeping like this.”
It would be so easy to turn around and tell him to shove off, but then he would know he had that effect so you simply picked you belongings up, fixed your boots and walked to the horses where Jaskier sat atop his own. 
The bard gives you a knowing look as you mount your own horse after fixing everything onto it, legs swinging with a natural ease and a slight warmth on your thigh. When you look down you see Geralt's hand placed on it, and you realize he had helped you up. “Are you angry with me? Or have you lost your voice?”
“Just matching the treatment given to me.” You snark, a feeling of pride in your chest when you see him all but snarl. You kick the horse into gear after that, this time taking the lead as his hand slips from your thigh and he rushes to Roach. 
By the time he catches up he makes Roach walk alongside your horse, his face furious. “The treatment I gave you?”
You hum out, moving to speed up your horse but Geralt is too quick, within moments he has the reins of your horse in his hand, pulling on them until you are close enough for your thighs to touch. 
“Answer me.”
You hum again, your heartbeat rising and you wonder if he can hear it when his eyes cast down to your chest before looking back at you. 
“Humming is not an answer.”
You hum once more, moving to snatch the reins but his hand reaches out to grab your jaw. “I need to hear your voice.”
You slap his hand away once more and snatch the reins, giving him a glare before moving forward. 
“I don’t understand.” He grunted to Jaskier later that day, fixing his travel pack on roach as the bard leans against the same post the horses were tied to. You had gone to the market to grab some necessities and when Geralt demanded to go with you he had been met with another empty hum and Jaskier had told him to back down. 
“She’ll avoid attention if she isn’t traveling with a witcher, not to mention she knows how to bargain for cheaper prices when she isn’t flanked by your glare.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He growls, watching the bard smirk.
“The market workers like the attention she can give them-”
“We agreed she didn’t have to do any of that stuff if she traveled with us.”
“She does this willingly, and even so it’s not the same as in the brothel. She doesn’t have to offer up her-” A heavy growl slips from Geralt and Jaskier chooses not to finish his sentence, instead rolling his eyes and moving to his own horse. “I think you would be better off if you just told her you love her.”
“I do not-”
“Oh hush. I see you watch her sleep every morn, then I see you yell at her for waking up late because you forgot to wake her up.” He laughs. “And I see you hover whenever she mounts and dismounts Lugo. Not to mention the way you give her the bigger rations of whatever we eat and-”
“Fuck off.” 
Jaskier takes the win and turns away from the witcher, fiddling with the lute while Geralt tries to make himself look busy. 
After a moment of silence the witcher stands quickly. “Why won’t she speak to me?”
A laugh escapes the bard once more. “Because you ignore her any chance you get?”
“I do not.” 
“Well I know that. But she doesn’t, because you never even bother talking to her. You’d rather silently pine like a lost-” He trails off when he sees you emerge from the hills, sacks of produce in your arms with a small smile on your face. “Fresh hells.”
“The men were ready to lose their money today boys!”
“Did they bother you?” Geralt growls and you give him a glare back before shoving the sack of apples into his chest. 
Once he is sure you are breathing properly he covers you with the blanket, before moving to grab his sword, careful not to wake you up. 
You spend the rest of the day simply ignoring them both, too busy being proud of the way you scammed the merchants and all you had to do was lift your skirt to your knee. 
Geralt kept Roach near your own horse, and Jaskier took the back for once, all of you traveling in silence until Jaskier begins to whine. 
“It has been forever since we slept indoors.”
Silence follows for a moment before Geralt turns to glare at him. “And Y/n just saved us so much coin we can each get a room in the next town.”
“This is true! I did!” You laugh, turning to look at Jaskiers mopey face. 
“Fuck.” Geralt grunts, turning back to the road so he doesn’t have to look at either of you again. 
Jaskier is still sitting in the hall with his lute, strumming softly in the drunken daze as the crowd they had gathered earlier has finally died down. 
“Bard.” Geralt grunts, trying to get his attention. But Jaskier doesn’t move, simply keeps his eyes closed as he plays a chord. So Geralt kicks his chin. 
The bard before him jumps up with a shout before his eyes land on the white haired witcher before him. 
“I got us all rooms and I found you in a hallway.” 
“I was merely resting for a moment.” He sighs, reaching down to grab the ale mug filled with coins he earned from his performance. “It’s hard to be a -”
The silver amulet is shoved in his face before he can finish the sentence, eyes widening as Geralt grunts. “Who gave this to Y/n?”
“The charming blonde who had been dancing with her all night while you sat in the back and glared.”
“Where did he disappear to?”
“You mean after you snatched her?”
By the time the three of you made it to the next town your ass was worn from the saddle and you were a bit wobbly when you got down, Geralt standing behind you and you scoffed as you looked at him. “Waiting for me to fall so you can lecture me?”
He opens his mouth to respond and you find yourself excited that he is actually about to answer back before he huffs and glares before disappearing. And once more you are left feeling like nothing. 
You watch as he disappears into the tavern before turning to Jaskier. “I asked around at the market…”
“About?”
“About work.”
“Ah!” He smiles, moving to lean on you. “And what did you find for our dear witcher to do?”
“Not for him actually.” Your throat tightens as you struggle to find the words. Jaskier doesn’t seem to catch on to your solemn mood. 
“Oh? A performance for me? I’m sure I can prepare a lullaby or two-”
“For me.” You interrupt, pulling yourself away from him and crossing your arms uncomfortably as he stares at you. 
“For…..you?” You nod at his question, trying to gain some power here. “What do you-”
“Madame Horchels brothel is in this town, she is famous within word and if I met with her then I am sure I would be set up with a room and a hot meal a day-”
“Why in fucks sake would you ever want to go back to that?”
Tears were welling in your eyes as he stared at you and you struggled to find words. “I am just……tired of feeling useless and pathetic……”
“So you would go back to whoring?”
“You don’t have to act so disgusted!” You snap, shame filling you at his reaction. “I never saw you complaining about my past when I was flirting with guards or-”
“I am sorry, I never meant to judge. I just think…..” He sighs out and rubs his face aggressively before moving to pull you into a hug. “It’s been a cold couple days. How about we go in and get a drink, a good night's rest in actual beds before we make decisions? Yeah?”
A hooded figure passes you both to get into the tavern and you simply shrug. “I think my mind is made up Jask.”
“I think it would be a mistake and we would miss you terribly……..okay I would miss you terribly.”
“Why would you miss her?” Geralt snaps out from a couple steps away, eyes squinted in an angry manner. He had originally come to snap at you both to watch your surroundings but had caught the tail end of the conversation instead. 
“Y/n here was just rushing a decision. But we aren’t gonna talk about that, right now a round of ale on me.”
“You spent all your coin two towns ago on new strings for your lute.” Geralt reminds, eyes never leaving your figure. 
“Then I shall make more coin!” He cheers, pulling you into the tavern and snatching the room keys from Geralt. 
Things escalated from there, and any time Geralt asked about their conversation they changed the subject and he was beginning to lose his mind. Were you okay? Why would Jaskier miss you? Why was he so worried about this? He watched you drink all night, ignoring him, and he watched as many of the men in the tavern asked you for a dance. He knew none of the men were a threat, and you knew how to handle them, even if it got out of control he could have his sword to their throat with a mere minute. So he didn’t really pay attention to your dance partners. 
 But one in particular caught his attention, the hooded figure that had walked too close to you both earlier had emerged from his corner and asked for a dance, and something in Geralt screamed for him to go and get you away. But he didn’t, instead he sat back and drank, allowing you room to have fun. 
The blonde stranger whirled you around and spun you and bought you drink after drink. Your eyes glazed over and your smile was wide enough to split your face, a jealous feeling crept into Geralts chest and the urge to punch the stranger grew and grew as Jaskier played song after song. 
“Can I get you another drink?” 
“Hmm?” Geralts attention snaps from your figure to the tavern wench beside him, giving him a small smile. 
“Another ale?”
“I think I am fine. Thank you-” She doesn’t wait, walking away since she didn’t get more coin and when Geralt sneaks his attention back to you he can’t help but slam his empty mug down. 
The stranger had you turn around with you lifting your hair as he placed an amulet on your neck, kissing your shoulder and before Geralt could stop himself he lunged to grab you. 
One moment you are giggling about the gorgeous, the next you are thrown over Geralts shoulder as he shoves the gorgeous fae away from you, hauling you up the stairs of the inn with no care. 
“Put me down!” You shout, slamming your hand into his back as he walks through the first hall then up the next flight of stairs. 
“You’ve had too much to drink.” 
“And you care why?”
“Because that man would take advantage.’ He growls. 
“Well he gave me a necklace, that’s how the business works.” You giggle, reaching up to touch the necklace but the world whirls once more as Geralt places your feet on the ground and pushes you into the wall. His hand stopped your head from hitting the wood but the rest of you was pressed between him and the wall. 
“Don’t do that.” 
“Do what?” You ask breathlessly, watching his face with adoration. Had he always been so…..
“Joke about that. You need something then I will get it for you.” 
“What if I want the prettiest jewels in the kingdom?”
“Then I kill more beasts.” He was dead serious and the hazy feeling was taking over so before you know it you find yourself leaning in to whisper “What is I want an orgasm?”
A red tint crosses his neck but his face remains serious as he leans his head against yours to whisper. “Then you ask me.”
And for a moment you can’t breathe, you find yourself aching, every part of you wanting to touch him suddenly. But before you can he whispers once more. “But not tonight. My first time with you will be sober.” 
Then the wood behind you disappears and you realize he had pressed you against the door to your room. Landing in a ball on the floor he sends a small smile before slamming the door and the heat that had filled you dims for a moment. 
But just for a moment. 
You pull yourself up from the floor, moving to the bed before the aching returns and your body heats up twice as bad. Everything begins going hazy as a sweat covers you and then you lose it. 
“I need to go.” Geralt snaps, shoving Jaksier to the direction of the stairs. “You go watch her. Don’t let her make any more mistakes.”
“Where are you- Geralt? What happened?! Hello?!” Jaskier calls after the witcher, watching him storm through the tavern before slamming the doors on his way out. With a deep sigh the bard grabs his jacket and mug of coins before making his way to find the rooms. 
It had been an hour since he left you in your room and Geralt could not relax himself. Jaskier had just stopped singing and Geralt was still pacing the inn room, back and forth back and forth. 
The aching hard on he had refused to go away, the image of your dazed eyes all he could think about, and the way you whispered to him had him so close to snapping all together. But he didn’t, and you were safe in your room with him just two doors down. But the floorboards creaking by his door caught his attention, and he reached for the sword as the doorknob jiggled. 
Stepping towards it slowly as it creaks open only to reveal you, standing in the hall in nothing but your dress slip and a flushed face. “Geralt-” You moan out and his knees nearly buckle when you rush in and slam the door. 
The sword falls from his hands so he can catch you when you come hurdling to him, pulling him in for a harsh kiss. Your lips melt into his and you moan in victory when he kisses back, pressing yourself against him as your hands fly into his hair. 
His own hands find purchase on you hips, and before he can tell himself not to he moves them to start a grinding motion the both of your would like. It stays like this for a moment until you bite his lip on a particularly aggressive moan, pulling back to catch a breath as you press your hips into his harder than before. 
For a second he admires you, the way your face scrunches up in pleasure and the moans that he is pulling from your lips, letting out a heavy ‘FUCK’ when you circle your hips. 
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” You gasp out, hands dragging from his hair to his chest before you start tearing the clasps on his shirt, scratching it a bit in your struggle to get it off. “Ineedyou, it hurtssobad-” 
This makes him hesitate, pulling back a little just as you fling his shirt, your hands flying to undo the slip and he finally catches your eyes. Only they weren’t the eyes he had fallen in love with, instead they were a deep red. 
“Y/n?” He asks, heartbeat racing as he snatches your wrists in one hand, the other coming to grab you chin. “Look at me.”
“Geralt, please. It hurts.” You whine and the gem in the amulet glows the same red as your eyes. 
Dread fills him as he reaches down to tear it off you, the silver cutting you a bit before he chucks it across the room. 
He couldn’t breathe properly as he watched you come down from the spell, anger filling him. You hadn’t meant any of this, this had been a spell. 
He was a fucking fool. 
“Geralt?” You breathe out, taking in the room before looking at his shirtless torso and the small scratches you had made to get the shirt off. “What-”
And just like that you were gone. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your nose started bleeding as you passed out, he barely caught you before you hit the floor. “Fuck.”
You awake mid day- the sun blaring in through the blinds and you do your best to cover your eyes.  “Oh make it stop-”
“There are no covers for the window.” Jaskier sighs from where he is laying on the floor. “I tried stealing the blanket from you and you hissed at me.”
“Serves you right….” You mumble, taking in the room as you realize that last night hadn’t been a dream after all and a deep embarrassment fills you. 
“H-have…..have you seen Geralt?” You ask, leaning over the bed to look at him.
“He left around sunrise in a pissy mood.”
“Did he… did he say anything?” You felt like an utter fool, and you were doing your best not to be sick. 
“Said to watch you so you didn’t make any more mistakes.”  Jaskier shrugs before yawning. 
“He said that? He said mistake?” Your voice cracks as you wrap the blanket tighter around yourself. 
“He did. I assumed he caught you with the blonde gu- Y/n? What’s the matter?”
“I…… I have to go.” You rush out, jumping over him to leave the room. 
- - - - -
Geralt finds Jaskier waiting at the horses when he rides up, tired and cranky, and he gets even crankier when he sees that your horse is empty of all your travel bags. 
“Is she not awake? Do we need to get a healer?” He rushes out, launching from roach to get to the tavern only for Jaskier to hold the lute in front of him. 
“She woke up several hours ago, it’s nearly dusk.” 
“Then where is she?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?” His heart is racing too fast and he’s hoping that Jaskier starts laughing soon and this is all a joke. 
“I told her you said to make sure she didn’t make any more mistakes and she got really sad and started crying as she packed up.” He explains. “She went to this brothel and they wouldn’t let me in but they let her in and she came out to say bye soon after that.”
“She went to a brothel?!” He snaps, grabbing the collar of Jaskiers dress coat. 
“Don’t blame me! This is your doing!”
“How. So.”
“You were the one that made her feel worthless! Never looking at her and always in her business about her mistakes-”
“Her mistakes get her hurt, or worse, killed!”
“Then tell her that! Rather than yell at her all the time with no explanation-”
“Where is the brothel?”
“It’s no use.”
“Where. Is. The. Brot-”
“She made a deal! The madame owns her!”
“Not on my fucking watch.” Geralt snaps, mounting the roach in one fluent move before nodding to Jaskier. “Hurry.”
He had to get you. 
Part Two
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