#i gave you the 'horses bring them together' au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

portal-geist · 1 year

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ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝔹𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ＆ ℍ𝕠𝕨𝕕𝕪

「Detective duo??」

(Reader is a robot character, helping kids get more familiar about their feelings therefore they are powered by love with a single heart on their chest but everything else is up to you! They also are the one to provide goods to Howdy, basically being buisiness mates.)

(Also, this overlaps with the Narrator reader au I have made. They are only mentioned though so do not worry. {And I will continue writting them as well :)} )

"26, 27, 28, 29...."

The robot pointed at each and every shinning apple that was set on the tabletops. They moved slowly yet precisely, though suddenly shuddered as they found a miss calculation.

They stood quiet and slowly walked away from the isle until stopping dead in their tracks being called by Howdy.

"Were they all there this time?"

The catapillar asked with hope.

The robot looked back at their paper, then looked back up from it. They pulled out a small thumbs up, knowing that obviously there weren't.

There were only 29 apples, even though the list said 30. There's been an apple thief going around the neighborhood, though it was kept secret between Howdy and... Y7/N4... err, Heart bot was their secondary title.

They were the provider of goods at Howdys place, having an eco friendly wind factory near Poppys barn.

They found the Catapillar sobing on the floor next to the apple section, full of despair and agony of the loss of a singular apple.

Due to respect and not wanting to embarass their friend, the robot kept this a secret, working together to find who it is.

Although that also means more work hours than usual... But hey! That also means more time with their friend!

"All good Howdy."

The bot gave a thumbs up.

"Nice! I'm gonna need to recount them in a sec, I just need to-"

Hugh,

"-Bring this to the corner right there."

Howdy placed the box that sounded packed from behind the counter, pointing to the isle you just checked. The emotion driven robot could tell how he was espeacially eyeing the apples they have just restocked.

Although slightly offended, as it also kind of ment that Howdy didn't trust their decision of coding, from all of the times the apple isle was targetted for some mysterious reason, it was very understandable.

However, Y/n's circuits shocked up knowing very well that they had lied, sliding right before Howdy's path.

"It is alright, friend. I ensure you that my calculations are correct. Ah, please let me do this for you as well."

That being said, the Heart Bot grapled on the sides of the box harshly, trying to take it away from the poor shop keep.

"Oh nono it's totally fine! Err... umm.."

"It is Y7/N4."

"Err... y/n."

Howdy said, not letting go which the opposing bot didn't either.

They insisted on carrying the heavy box strongly, being backed up with crucial evidence that they are more fit for the job while Howdy kept on awkwardly refusing out of guilt and empathy.

Nobody is calm about this.

"Really y/n, I know that you have a big ol' heart and I'm sure you are more sturdy than I but I don't wanna work yourself ou-"

RING~

"Oh, helloooo?"

A familiar calm and soothing voice entered the shop.

The two froze, not expecting someone to walk in despite the 'OPEN' sign clearly still hung up.

The charismatic puppet followed up by a shinning star took notice of the two and greeted them.

"Hello, Howdy! Hello Hearty!"

Sally chirped.

"You guys seem to be in a kerfuffle!"

"What's inside that box if I may ask?"

The two customers leaned in with curiousity. Y/n suddenly let the box go, Howdy struggling for a second before softly placing it down.

"Now friends, hold on your horses... Let me ask what you are in need first?"

The robot pointed at their list.

"Oh! Me and Wally were able to come up with an idea for our play! We're just here for some materials!"

"Well! The handcraft items should be other there!"

Howdy pointed in the direction from behind the robot.

"While you lot do that I'll handle this."

"But I'm just so curious!"

"What's inside that box if I may ask?"

The box was so stunning that it seemed just impossible to take everyone's attention off of it!

"I'm... not sure actually. I only know that Eddie sended it to me saying it was from Frank."

"I definetley don't remember providing him any products to send you."

Howdy looked at Y7/N4 who seemed to furrow their brows.

"...How about we open it?"

Wally suggested. Howdy looked back at him in surprise.

"B-but we can't just do that! I've been told not to open it before Frank arives!"

"Why did Frank even send this anyway?"

"Do you have any more information to provide, Howdy?"

Y7/N4 the provider of Howdys products questioned their friend. The catapillar began to recall his memories.

"Hmm... Well, all that Eddie told me was to be gentle with it and wait until Frank comes back just as I said. Though... I did hear some weird noises coming from it..."

"Ooh! Ooh! A mystery to solve! Does that help, detective Hearty?"

Sally faced Heart Bot with expectancy.

The Robot gave a shrug before snatching a pair of scissors from behind the counter. Howdy paniked at this.

"Wha-what are you doing?"

"Procceeding to open the package. Is it not obvious?"

Heart bot tilted their head.

"We can't just do that! It'll be rude!"

"As far as I'm concerned, maybe you should start considering the safety of your shop first, friend."

The catapillar opened his mouth to say something though quickly slumped back down.

Howdy mumbled something but stood back, clearly not excited as the star next to him. Wally looked between the two though shrugged it off. He seemed to prioritize his curiousity first.

The singular organic heart, wired through Y7/N4's circuits stinged for a moment.

They didn't understand much, though they continued to follow through their inicial plan.

Wally and Sally stood by with interest, Howdy not so much enthusiastic as the scissor made it's first cut.

Then the next, then the box now had an opening in an instant. It was still closed, ready to open at any given moment. The room filled with suspence as the robotic hands slowly made it's way to open it.

"...Everybody ready?"

"Ready."

"READY!"

"...ok."

"Alright, on the count of three. Three, two, one..."

"JULLIE!!"

"JULLIE?!"

The doors of the shop opened in sync with the reveal of the package.

Inside the box was a pink, snoring friend who was curled up in a ball, wincing at the sudden exposure to light.

As her groan echoed, Frank who slammed the doors of the shop took notice and rushed over, pushing the others aside.

"Jullie! I told you to not slumber upon the packages!"

"But they're soooo comfyyyy...."

Jullie began to snuggle back into the small box while Frank tried to pull her out.

"Inside the mystery box was... A FRIEND?! Golly, what a shinning discovery! Good job, detective!"

Sally playfully hit the shoulder of the robot next to her.

"Detective? Mystery? What in the world are you going on about??"

Frank angrily demanded an answer, pulling up sleepy Jullie who mumbled complaints annoyed.

"First of all, may I know how... this, ended up here?"

Y7/N4 got up, brushing off debree from their legs.

"I was packaging framed butterflies for Howdy as he was looking at my prized collection with great intent! Jullie insisted on asisting with boxing but..."

Frank glared down at his friend who made an innocent face.

"... decided that she wanted to be one with the cat..."

"Hm... A cat I see."

The group looked back in surprise, jumping at the sudden voice behind them.

It was Barnaby, with Wally suddenly appearing on his shoulder.

"What a Catastrophy of events! It seems that Jullie is purrmenantly banned from helping with boxes eh?"

Barnaby joked earning a few laughs from a few.

"Since when were you there, Barnaby?"

Jullie peeked through her silky hair.

"Just a few moments ago! The Narrator and Poppy were talking bout somethin I wasn't really interested in particullar so I came down here out of boredom. And for treats!"

Barnaby smiled with glee.

Again, the room filled with giggles.

Frank rolled his eyes though sighed in relief that he was able to find his friend safe.

"At least I know you're here. It is very unusual for you to disappear without a sound so I was worried sick!"

"Oh Frank, you're such a friend!"

Jullie hugged the grumpy neighbor.

Everyone began to chat, laughing about the silly situation. Laughter combined with Frank's light scolding and Jullies nonchalant jokes echoed through the building.

Though, opposing to the light and peppy atmosphere, the shop keeper and factory worker stood at the side, away from the party.

It was very quiet.

It was very tense.

It was also pretty awkward, to say the least.

Howdy fidgeted with his two sets of hands, while 7Y/N4 kept on buzzing ominously in silence. They felt short glances being flick at them from time to time, which they took notice easily. Their circuits were screaming to break the silence, a weird grip was tugging on their organic heart.

So that's what they did.

"... My deepest and sincerist apologies from earlier, Howdy. I understand that I may have scarred your pride and care for your buisiness."

That sure was one way to start.

Howdy was surprised by the sudden ice breaker, though quickly formed a reply.

"Oh no no no! It's totally alright! You haven't done anything wrong really!"

"Ah, then I must've irritated you by trying to carry the box as you seemed to be in distress and how I keep on visiting you through business purposes."

"What? No! What gave you that idea?!"

The robot tilted their head as if they were confused.

"Dear Howdy. Howdy Dear. Howdy... pillar. Yes? no? Well, for my reasoning, you seem awfully tense escpeacially in my presence. "

They put a hand on his shoulder.

"It is alright if you are uncomfortable. You are my friend after all."

Howdy looked back down at Y7/... ahem... y/n's face in an attempt to sort out his thoughts.

"It's erm... nothing much really it's just... may I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

...

"Oh, er... of course!"

"... Well, do you really think that I'm... careless about my own business?"

There was a moment of silence.

The robot seemed to freeze at the question. It was a long period of time as Howdy began to wonder i they had crashed in some way or another. As he was waving a hand infront o their face, y/n snatched his hand suddenly making him jump.

"Of course not. Do you even think that I am not observant enough to realize the passion and love you put into your prized and most beloved, sweet, cozy Bugdega?"

The catapillar was not expecting such a detailed response.

"Err- well, no but you said-"

"Apologies for my unclear intentions... What I was trying to say was that-"

They looked back at everyone who seemed to began going back to what they were originally doing, getting over the Jullie incident.

"-you should focus more on how you percieve your customers, and how that can affect your shop, Yourself even. It is not uncommon to have strange and dangerous orders to my factory."

Y/n let go of the catapillar's arm as they faced him with sincerity. Howdy took ahold of his wrist surprised by his friend's words but noded understandingly.

"Oh, um... I see. "

He looked around.

"Well, now I think I understand actually. I usually struggle to question most but... Thanks y/n. You're really such a friend!"

A genuine smile spread across his face.

"What can I say? Is there anything this detective can't solve?"

y/n attempted to imitated a silly yet smug pose, successfully earning a laugh from their friend. They imitated a sigh in relief, also making static giggle noises at their happy friend.

Although the two failed to notice, the others were actually watching from afar, content to see that the tense atmosphere died down between the two. Sally and Wally had completely forgotten about the materials!

Y/n patted Howdy's shoulder lightly as they motioned to the sky. Looking up at the sky, it was begining to get dark. Taking notice, they flipped the sign to 'CLOSED' and began to start tidying up the place.

Howdy soon rushed over to help, thinking back on the last thing the Factory worker said.

"...No. I don't think there's anything you can't solve with that determination mate."

...

"Oh, there's only 28 apples by the way."

"WHAT-"

"whoops-"

(A/N)

Hello, and hello. Thank you all for the read :) Apologies is this was a bit on the nose and out of character but hope you enjoyed!

The heart reader design is mainly up to you other than it's main concept as I still need something to write off of...

As stated at the start, I also have a Narrator reader fic, and I'll be overlapping their existence with the robot reader though I can do seperately if desired.

I shall take requests and asks for this one as well.

Of course I will continue with the Narrator! But just wanted to put this out as well :) Thanks again!

#Welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home fan art #welcome home howdy pillar #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #robot reader #howdy pillar x reader #Portal Geist #jullie joyful #barnaby b beagle #frank frankly #wally darling #Narrator #Narrator reader

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inncubus-honey · 6 months

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fantasy cod au ii

yay!! more military personnel to dream about!!! the characters in this are a mix of specgru and kortac operators; some faves and some underrated faves (imo) but I also did a bit of ooc for them cause we don't that much about a lot of them, so im filing the blanks with some hcs. hope y'all enjoy, feedback is always welcomed <3.

cod operators x gn!reader

Word Count: 6.96k

a/n: also includes poorly google translated sentences and cute original language nicknames <3

gromsko- glaive

due to seeing hussars’ as a child, gromsko always wanted to be one. a strong cavalryman, racing across the battlefield with a polearm in his hand as he was rode in on metal armor and his wings beating against the wind. normally they would sabres, but gromsko thought it was too short for close range fighting, so he ditched it in place of a glaive. they’re like a normal lance, but are forged with a small hook on the other side to catch riders off their horses.

as you gathered vegetables and fruits from your garden for that nights dinner, thundering sounds of hooves alerted you to look up from picking the food. making your way to the entrance of the grounds, the figure on the horse getting closer with clinking metal sounds also reaching your ears.

setting down the basket resting against your hip, the bigger figure came into view with metal wings on the back armor, red coat and twig covered helmet then bringing the horse to a stop. a smile spread across your lips as you raced towards the figure who held their arms out to you.

“sobie!” you would recognize your bear of a husband from anywhere. a soft smile graced his lips as he caught you in his arms, walking towards you and his home. engulfing you in a warm, bear hug that you had missed for the past two weeks made every moment of missing him worth it.

“moje perełko(my pearl)! i’ve missed you greatly…” his thick accent that rumbled into your bones, also made your heart flutter from the comfort it brought. he shoved face in the crooked of your neck, taking in the familiar scent of your skin and hair. closing his eyes and bringing your bodies as close as he could, gromsko took in everything he had missed in the time he was gone at battle.

“i thought you wouldnt be back until next week.” bringing your face out of his shoulder, you gazed upon his still sharp features and atlantic blue eyes. a hand was also brought up to his jaw which he gladly leaned into, resting upon it gently as his strong arms supported your body.

“we won, so we got to come home early. teraz daj mi buziaka, moje perełko (now give me a kiss, my pearl).” whispering upon your lips, you pressed them together and let out a content hum. gromsko secured you closer to his body, he made his way back towards yalls house so he could make up for time lost at battle.

gus- morningstar and shield

seeing royal guards visit through his village as a child, it really inspired him to join the guards to fight and protect his village. but they denied him from joining so he heard about specgru, a mercenary group that would allow anyone and everyone who wanted to join to do so. gus was excited to have found people who wanted to protect people just like him. when they started traveling around to different cities and towns, when he met you thats when he felt complete in his soul.

setting his weapons down by his tent for the night, gus then took a seat by the fire right next to you. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, bringing you into his as he shoved his face into your hair.

leaning into his touch, you gave a soft sigh as gus traced a pattern into your exposed skin. the rest of specgru were talking amongst themselves around the tents, gus and you were contently eating stew that luna made that night.

“mi corazón de melón(my melon heart); you did wonderful out there today.” a soft whisper graced your ears as gus brushes his nose against your temple. a client had payed for us to track down someone who had stolen from them, under the act of an injured soldier.

unknown to us, the thief had a crew with them which meant they wouldnt had over the stolen goods easily. a soft giggle left your lips as gus brought his lips down your jawline and neck. bringing a hand up to rest upon his open chest as he brought your body to his.

“gus..oso(bear) what if someone sees u-us?” you squeaked as gus left little bites along the column of your neck. leaving one last kiss on your freshly kissed skin, gus pulled away to greet you with a smirk.

“just rewarding my brave warrior for all their hard work on the field.” whiskey colored eyes bore into yours, a hand was brought up to brush away baby hairs from your eyes.

“such a clingy oso…” a giggle left your lips as you stood up and dragged gus towards yalls tent.

“ooh, mi corazón de melón wants to celebrate tonight…” gus smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as you made your way into the tent.

luna- dual kamas

know for her grab and go abilities when specgru needed to find certain people. she also uses them as climbing tools which allows quick up and down movements for quick land surveying. luna kinda liked to keep to herself in specgru, but over time she got closer to everyone. also she does most night watches; she doesnt mind staying for long periods at a time and doing more survey work. (since luna is singaporean and they have four national languages, i went with malay cause its the official language, in case anyones curious.)

“mana matahari saya?! semua orang naik angin!(where is my sun?! everyone is getting on my nerves!)” luna mumbled to herself as she walked through the camp, looking for her partner, you.

after doing another quick survey upon reyes’ request when she was moving down the tree that she had climbed up, a weak branch broke under her causing her to fall the rest of the way. as she couldnt find you all over the camp, luna grumbled to herself as she took a sit at the campfire with zimo and reyes who were talking amongst themselves.

while you were out in the woods nearby, looking for any interesting new herbs for your medicines and just any to restock on other herbs. upon entering back into camp, you see your luna sitting at the fire, crouched over herself with zimo and reyes talking amongst themselves.

“im back.” you announced which caused lunas eyes to snap in your direction, looking over her folding arms that rested on her knees. you walked towards them with a basket full of herbs on your hip, a small smile graced you as saw zimo and reyes chuckle to themselves as they watched luna.

“matahari saya! where were you? Saya bimbang tentang anda?(i was worried about you).” luna jumped up from her spot, bringing you into a hug as she rested her head upon yours. you stifled a laugh as luna whined at you for being gone.

“i was out collecting herbs for more medicines, moony.” smiling up at her, you gently rested a hand upon her jaw as she pouted at how you shrugged it off. zimo and reyes also hid their chuckles from how moody she was acting; this caused her to snap her head their way with a sharp glare to her teammates.

“lets go back to our tent…i wanna hold you.” she mumbled as yall started walking back to yalls tent. she brought you back into her side, an arm around your shoulder, the boys snickers still heard in the background.

upon arriving back in your tent, she took the basket of herbs from you and placed them on the ground near your sleeping bags. she sat both of yall down, placing her head onto your lap and thats when you noticed twigs and leaves in her hair.

“did you fall again, moony?” you chuckled lightly as she sighed into your lap, hiding her red cheeks as you pulled out the twigs and leaves.

“i dont want to talk about it…” she mumbled as you made a small pile of the twigs and leaves next to you.

zimo- trident:

zimo feels like a trident guy, i dont why, but it fits him well that i cant think of anything else for him. he would definitely throw his trident at enemies, but he connected a chain to the end of it so he could pull it back to him. he heard about specgru after witnesses them in a bar fight in his hometown. zimo felt like there was a calling to him as he watched them fight the rowdy bar goers, paying for the damages then leaving like nothing happened.

he circled the chain around his hand as he ripped the trident from the enemies head, leaving them to drop dead onto the ground. zimo heard someone coming up behind him, but before he could raise the trident again, an arrow was lodged into the person's throat. another dropped to the ground like a fly; he turned to see his lover lower their bow with a smile on their face.

“qīn'ài de(dearest), that was an excellent shot.” he nodded as you walked up to meet one another, zimo tucked his trident behind his back and brought you into a quick kiss on your forehead. smirking at one another, your backs touched one another with your weapons drawn up at more enemies.

“well, your recoil was on point as well, lao gong(husband).” you both share a chuckle as enemies fell before yall. zimo made efficient work with his trident while you shot enemies down with your bow and arrow, swiftly pulling arrows from your quiver. your bodies danced like the ballet of swan lake; siegfried and odette dancing in the forest under the light of the moon after her first transformation.

“you flatter me too much, qīn'ài de, but thank you.” you heard the smile in his voice as you heard the chain of his weapon rattle. wind rushed past your ears as you released arrow after arrow into enemies that seemingly had no end. the entire of specgru had soon brought the horde of enemies to an end, thankfully. blood soaked the once bright green fields into a muddy brown with bright red pops, your boots were caked with blood and layered with mud as you took a moment to calm your breath.

you took a seat on a fallen log, your bow sitting next to you as your arms rested on your knees, zimo took a spot next to me with his own weapon next to him on the log. i sighed, placed my head onto zimos shoulder as he also took a moment to catch his breath.

“can we get some meat stew with a lot of potatoes?” zimo softly muttered, above you as his head rested on yours. a small chuckle left you as you nudged his jaw with your head.

“of course, lao gong…” you huffed with a small chuckle, zimo brought you closer into his side as he wrapped his arm around your waist. you felt a soft kiss being pressed to the crown of your head, zimo brushed his nose against your temple as the night slowly started set in, turning the heat of the battle field to a somber gravesite.

reyes- crossbow:

reyes would go hunting with his father when he was younger and his fathers choice of weapon was a crossbow while his father gave him a small dagger to help with gathering herbs and skinning whatever animal of choice they had for dinner. as he got older and started hunting on his own as his father got older; he gave reyes his crossbow. made of rich cherry wood with silver metal plates for a better grip, reyes took great pride in his father giving him his crossbow.

specgru had taken a job that allowed them to stay in a town with a cozy inn for everyone to grab a bed. you had taken a double bed near the back of the inn with the fireplace going upon the moment you entered the room. you took a moment to rest your head as you waited for reyes to get back from the town. zimo and him wanted to take a look around since it was a new town and didnt know what it could offer.

creaking wood alerted you for someone coming towards the door which caused you to open your tired eyes in time to hear a soft knock upon the wooden door. reyes figure tiptoed into the shared room, you sat up and rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes as he gave a small smirk.

“hello my nighttime meadow, did you just wake up from a nap?” his words were soft in the air as he sat next to you on the feather stuffed mattress. you chuckled at his nickname and cheesy actions, thats the kinda lover of reyes was.

“what did you do this time, foxtrot?” you chuckled as reyes gave a fake gasp while placing a hand over his heart. he gave you a silly shocked expression as you giggled and lightly hit his shoulder as he let out a small string of gasp.

“my darling meadow! the fact you accused me of doing something while out and about with our friend, zimo, is such a g-g-ghastly thing to say!” you both shared a smirk as he chuckled and gasped. he pulled something out of his satchel that rested on his hip; you leaned over to try and see what he was holding, but he hid behind his back with a smirk.

“whats that, foxtrot?” you raised an eyebrow at his sneakiness.

“close your eyes and i’ll show you, my meadow.” with a little sigh and roll of your eyes, you placed your hands over your eyes. you heard slight shuffling beside you felt a light metal chain be placed upon your collars bones. a light peck was pressed against your cheek when you felt he was finished.

“now you may open your eyes, my meadow.” removing your hands from your eyes, looking down at your chest you saw a small silver pendant sitting there. it was a tiny lily of the valley pendant; your favorite flower, but you also had so many you couldnt always name a favorite. but one that always came first or second was the lily of the valley.

“o-oh…reyes, darling. i love it…this is one of the best gifts i’ve ever gotten.” leaning closer to him, you pressed a passionate kiss to his lips with his arms wrapping around you. “it…it reminded me of you, meadow. you mean everything to me, darling…” reyes gently cupped your jaw, bringing you into a kiss only to release small giggles and laughs throughout it.

konig- battle axe:

a large double sided axe was always resting upon his shoulder whenever walking into battle. the bleached streaks running the front of his mask, harsh and watching stormy blue eyes piercing through his darkened outfit. his hulking form over the rest of his teammates, konig was unruly on the field then acted like a mouse whenever in their camp. careful movements, his eyes always observing everyone and their actions as not to frighten or hurt anyone

konig held his hands to his front as he moved around the inn, trying to keep small and thoughtful movements as he tried to find a place to sit. many of his teammates were sitting amongst themselves, already eating and talking, so he kinda stood in the middle of everyone as his head kept on a swivel.

“konig, over here!” you called from where you sat with horangi who was eating quietly. konig chest was relieved of the anxious feeling that was bubbling up in his chest, carefully and slowly he made his way over to you. sitting down with you and horangi and his stein of mead, konig let out a small sigh of relief.

“gott sei dank, ich habe euch beide gefunden.(thank god, i found you both.)” he spoke, reaching under the table to hold your hand as you drank your drink of choice. you returned a soft smile as you could tell he was smiling under his hood as it reached his eyes.

“horangi found the table for us while you were getting your drink.” you responded as konig gave a thankful nod to his friend. konig carefully lifted his hood to take sips mead as you talked about the fight that took place just moments before. excitedly, you spoke of what you thought was cool and what techniques you wanted to try again upon the next fight.

konig only stared you down with lovesick eyes as horangi ate his food in peace. konig was content, he had been since joining kortac and meeting you, his liebster(most beloved). upon meeting you when he joined kortac, it's like a puzzle piece that fits perfectly or like he could breathe clearly for the first time in forever. konig would go to the ends of the earth if you had asked him; anything you asked him to do, he would do in a heartbeat.

“-then that cool move nikto did, i asked him to teach it to me later. isnt so cool, konig?” you beamed a smile up at him. he zoned back into reality from his thoughts focused on you when you finished talking, you gave his hand a light squeeze as he shook his head back and looked at you with soft smiles.

“yes, liebster, im listening to you..” he softly told you as he leaned over to softly bump his head against yours. his loving gesture he would always do in public if he wasnt comfortable enough to lift his mask up to kiss you. you leaned against him with a soft hum leaving your lips. your foreheads rested against one another as horangi sighed and rolled his eyes at the pda before him.

“토할거야…(i'm going to throw up)” horangi mumbled to himself as his pushed away his unfinished food. you and konig left out chuckles at horangis actions, pulling away for the sake of him.

konig- battle axe:

woldo is traditional korean polearm. it gets its name from its curved blade, meaning ‘moon blade’. horangi handles his weapon with great pride and graced for his heritage, also maybe…to impress you. graceful hits with the woldo and harsh kicks to enemies as he gives subtle glances towards your figure as you did your own fighting. but upon anyone mentioning it, he would absolutely deny it while hiding his flushed cheeks.

“stop shouting, konig! they could hear you!” horangi shushed his excited german friend as they sat in his tent. konig couldnt contain his excitement for horangi as he learned of his secret feelings for you. he told konig hoping he would have some kind of advice on how to ask you out.

“thats so exciting, horangi! im hoping they will say yes to your proposal!” he exclaimed as he walked out, not giving horangi an answer as he let out a sigh and hung his head in defeat. moving to sit on his cot, horangi just decided to deal with it later, he laid down on his cot and got ready to take a nap. until you walk in with a small smile upon your lips.

“horangi? oh, are you sleeping?” you started to walk back out, but horangi jumped up from his position, smoothing out his clothes. he shot you a sheepish smile as you stood at the front of his tent.

“n-no! no…i was just resting my eyes for a moment. anyway what can i help you with?” he rubbed his neck, calming his nerves as he was in such a private place with you. you pulled something out of your satchel that rested on your hip, walking over to him you held out a tassel of red and white thread.

reaching out to take it, horangi inspected it closely. there was nothing much about it until he noticed a small moon pendant hanging along with the thread. looking back towards you as you gave your own sheepish smile.

“its a tassel for your weapon…i remember you saying that your other one had fallen during our last fight. i figured why not make you one to replace it…” you held your hands behind you as looked the ground, not daring to meet his honey orbs that bore into yours.

“i dont know what to say…this is amazing, yeobo(darling).” standing up from where he sat, horangi brought you into a hug with his face resting upon your shoulder. ever since joining kortac and getting closer with horangi, he has called you yeobo and you never knew what it meant.

“horangi, what does yeobo mean?” reluctantly you pulled away from the hug that just felt so natural; horangi once again rubbed his neck to calm his nerves as he thought of an answer to tell you. but he decided that now was finally time to tell you how he truly felt, no more hiding.

“yeobo is…a term of endearment..for couples in korea; it means honey or darling. i've liked you ever since getting to know you on a personal level…i understand if you don-” before he could finish speaking, you cut him off by pressing your lips against one another. his hands coming to rest upon your jaw where you moved your hands to rest upon his broad chest.

the kiss felt like it was forever, but it was only a few moments of gently dancing your lips against one another. horangi never wanted this moment to end with you, it was everything he wished for when it came to you. but soon you both pulled away to have air reenter your lungs, noses gently rested against one another as your breaths fanned across each others skin.

“i love you too, horangi…more than you could ever know.” you whispered to him with a giggle and smile across your lips. you both stood in horangis tent, holding each other in contentment as konig stood outside the tent, a smirk hidden under his hood as he was happy for his friends.

calisto- rapier:

as the house of bourbons only heiress, calisto grew up in a home of luxury and comfort. not having to worry about her next meal, warm bed, clean clothes and the ability to bathe. but she always wanted more to do than just have maids and servants weigh on her hand and foot, so she secretly started training in the rapier, an elegant weapon of choice, she thought. when she and her family were traveling through the countryside, she heard of the traveling mercenary group, kortac. that they traveled across the country and world, taking on missions people asked of them to track down people and recruiting whoever would like to join.

“mes biche…tu as l'air si paisible comme ça.(my doe…you look so peaceful like this)” calisto sat at your side, just coming back from a late night mission. you had stayed back as it was simple intel gathering, just wanting to breathe for the night. by the time calisto had gotten back, you were asleep. cuddling into calisto pillows, soft sighs left your lips as you wished for your girlfriend to be cuddling you.

calisto softly laid herself down the bed next to your sleeping figure, sapphire eyes watched your calm features closely. calming breathing sounds were the only sounds in the inn room, the fireplace had slowly gone out just before calisto entered the room. the soft shuffling of bed sheets and creaking of wood caused you to shift in your sleep, calisto rested a hand upon your hair and gave slow rubs to keep you asleep as she wished not to disturb your slumber.

“calisto…when did you get back, dearest?” softly the words left your lips, turning over to her person as she continued to play with locks of your hair in the quiet of the night. growing up in the house of bourbon, she never took much pride in the name or many things in her life. until she met you; her mes biche, her second hand in battle, the one she lays with at night.

trusting no harm would come to her as she puts her still body next to yours, but shes alright with that. she will take every opportunity to show you off to anyone who takes slight interest in you.

“i got in a few moments ago, darling. do you eat before going to bed?” she cocked an eyebrow at you as you turned your body towards her. calisto smiled back at you as a sleepy smile graced your lips.

“yes, calisto. i used some of my coins to have a meal downstairs before the kitchen closed. what about you, dearest?” she nodded as the comfortable silence returned in the moonlit room. you cupped the back of her head and brought her close to you and pressed a light peck upon her lips, calisto eagerly returned the kiss with a hand coming up to rest upon your cheek.

passion started building up between you two, harsher breaths released from one another's lips, calisto climbed upon your hips as your hands attached themselves to her waist. she rocked her body along yours as you boxed her close to your body.

“mes biche, god you’re amazing. je veux rester comme ça pour toujours(i want to stay like this forever).” her words were breathlessly whispered across your lips. you nodded wordlessly, hugging her closer to you and sucking harshly upon each other's lips.

“i wouldnt have it any other way, dearest.”

fender- two sided sword:

basically a wooden pole with long blades on either side. hes also a fan of molotov cocktails, but only uses those when he has to cause he only carry so many glass bottles without alerting people. growing up he never like he belonged in his mothers village as people stared at him with dirty looks from knowing what happened with his father and mother, so when hearing about kortac, fender took the opportunity to leave home. he left his mother a note then joined kortac for a new life.

fender always dealt with feelings of not fitting in, so he had a tendency to sometimes in his tent and stew in his thoughts. he was doing the same today, after setting up camp for the night, fender went straight to yalls shared tent, hugging his knees to his chest as he mind raced with a million thoughts.

you had been helping calisto set up her tent before noticing he was missing from the group. once she was set, you wandered around the camp that sat at the edge of the forest you had been traveling through. once you opened up the tent flaps to relieve fender in the fetal position, just staring at the wall before him.

“édesem(honey), whats wrong?” walking further into the tent, you slowly approached him and hugged his shoulder as he didnt flinch or make a subtle movement which was nothing new to you. bronze eyes were glazed over as he stared at the wall, unregistered to the world around him; slowly, carefully you lifted a hand up to rest upon his left cheek and turned him to look at you with worry etched into your brows.

“fender? do you want to be alone or can i help you, baby?” you whispered between the two yall. the longer you held fenders face in your hands, the sooner his eyes stopped being glazed over, showing something almost like recognition to your person. taking a deep breath, fenders eyes closed as his tensed body slowly uncoiled and he brought up a hand to rest upon yours.

“sorry, szívem(my heart)…i-i just got into my head too much f-for the moment..” he replied as the worry in your face melted away. the corners of his lips didnt meet the corner of his eyes showing the tiredness in his face. you knew that he was like a burden to the group, to you and he was hiding so he could think through what his mind was screaming to him.

fender felt his body curl into yours, just placing his head upon your chest. you still held his face in your hands, his body releasing all the stress and emotions he has been holding in for the past week or so. he crumpled like a sand castle getting washed away by the sea; just feeling content with warmth and comfort of a familiar person.

after the leaving of his father back to america, his mother was distant(i do believe fenders mother is a good mother, but this just for this scenario), which caused strong feelings of trusting people and opening up about his emotions. when he met you in the small town pub, you were working as a server, upon being served, fender took immediate notice of you as you rushed the crowded pub.

bringing around drinks and food, fender watched in awe as you held all the weight of the trayson your shoulders and wrist. so yall got to talking for the three weeks they would be stationed there. soon he convinced you to join kortac and you didnt need that much convincing to leave the shitty pub you worked in.

soon fender pushed you down onto the dirt floor cot as he hugged your body like he would disappear the next morning or he could possibly forget who you were and that was a fate worst than death for fender. a baby-like whimper left his mouth as cuddled into your body, you pulled the blanket up over both of your bodies.

“you’re okay, fender…im here for you when you need to talk.” you whispered to him, pressing a light peck to his forehead before he drifted into much needed sleep from his restless nights over the past week; fender deserved the good sleep.

stiletto- dire flail:

a double sided fail was her weapon of choice, liking how easily moveable it was and how she could multiple people at once. most people took to her with intimidation at her 6’ stature and the scar that traveled along her face(i like to imagine her 6’) she kept to herself in the group and was alright being by herself. until she met you that is; joining the group at the same time as fender when they visited your village, she was drawn to you upon seeing your bright smile and shining eyes as you laughed at a joke made by horangi.

sal stood behind the rest of the group as you all climbed up the mountain towards you next destination, she kept watch from the rear for the group as konig was at the head. you were near her person which made her content on the trek, she watched over your shorter stature. every so often you took glances behind you to see if stiletto was still behind you, gracing her with a small smile whenever you would see her figure again. (im going to switch between sal, salvatrice and stiletto btw.)

it would be another few hours until you all had reached the village where your next assignment for kortac. you all stopped at the local inn to rent rooms, eat some food and get rest for the night. salvatrice wordlessy followed behind you as you walked up the room they gave you, she had grabbed your hand the moment you both started up the stairs. setting your stuff down in your shared room, sal stood next to you as she watched you flop onto the bed.

“salvatrice, baby, lay with me.” you called out to her as you held your hand to her; softly smiling down at her lover. gently folded her hand into yours, stiletto placed herself next to you on the feather stuff queen sized bed and felt relief in her feet and body from the long trek.

“how are you from the hike, amorino(little love)?” her raspy voice was the only sound to echo between the wooden room, you turned your body towards her and smiled and smiled softly at her.

“im fine, tesoro mio(my darling). just a little sore is all.”.all…how about you, sal?” your hands danced in one another, your fingers tracing the lines that decorated her palm as she watched with glee in her pale blue eyes. soon a idea crossed your mind which caused you to sit up with a bright smile upon your face as salvatrice looked up with slight confusion now crossing her brows.

“lets go walk around town, tesoro! i would love to see what they have here.” you beamed a smile at her, sal chuckled lightly as she watched you drip with excitement. she took your hand in hers, sitting up from the bed and opened up the room for you. an excited squeal left your lips, running up to her taller figure and hugged her neck to which she nuzzled into the side of your head.

walking through the town with sal, you pointed out all the interesting shops to you. from an antique store to the biggest bookstore you had seen in any town yet. she gladly followed behind you in silence as you geeked out from everything you saw from a beautiful choker necklace in the antique store to a hardcover, first edition of one of your favorite books.

but whenever you saw the price of the items, your face fell as you saw how you couldnt afford it. dejected, you would place the respective items back onto the shelf and walked to a different part of the store. what you didnt know was salvatrice would grab the item the moment you walked away, walking up to check out and brought them for you without thinking. you’re her amorino, you only deserve the best in her opinion and she would give it to you.

still you held excitement for walking around the town, you both soon stopped for dinner as it got later in the day; pinks and oranges mixed together with a background of baby blue. as you both sat down and outside at the pub near the antique shop, sal brought your dinner to the table after ordering inside. you both ate in a comfortable silence as you slowly started getting tired from walking around the town.

.“oh man, im tired…thank you for walking around with me, sal.” you flopped back down on the bed with a small as sal took a seat next to you, resting a hand on your knee and gently rubbed your skin under her calloused hand.

salvatrices’ mind wandered to the necklace and book that rest in her leather hip pouch. she tapped your knee to get your attention, doing so successfully, you sat up with a content groan leaving your lips as you felt sleepy from the warm meal you just finished.

“i have something…for you, amorino..” she spoke which made you tilt your head in a slight confusion as you wondered what she had gotten you. maybe a flower or dessert from the restaurant, that would be nice to eat next to the fireplace. looking over at sal with a soft smile, you watched as she slowly pulled out the wrapped up vintage choker placed atop the first edition book that you saw earlier when out on the town.

“sal…tesoro. you shouldnt have…salvatrice, they were so expensive, you didnt have to…” you words were caught up in your throat as you swallowed your tears to the best of your ability. salvatrice held out the presents for you, softly you took the presents from her hands and placed them on your lap, gently opening up the brown wrapping around the necklace.

the firelight bounced off the onyx that was sewn into the velvet band; silver filaments bands surrounded the emerald cut jewel. you gently lifted it up to your eye level and got a good look at it in the soft lighting. before you could say anything to sal, she took it from your hands and moved it down towards your neck and gently clasped around your neck.

“i saw you eyeing it up in the antique store. you deserve it, amorino. my darling deserves all great things…”, salvatrice pressed kisses along the back of your neck, slowly getting to every inch of your skin,”the beautiful necklace that compliments their skin as it drapes oh so nicely along their collarbones.”

you muffled the low sounds leaving your lips as sal held your body close to hers, ravaging your neck, the soft skin of yours.

“s-sal, tesoro…” hot breaths left your lips as your lover showered your skin with hot kisses.

nikto- sodegarami:

a sodegarami was a weapon used in feudal japan. its like a two pronged ‘trident’ with spikes all over the prongs and two blades sticking out of the top of the polearm. nikto stole the polearm off of a body when he walked onto the battlefield after escaping his confinements; also ripping apart the owners clothes and using strips of cloth to hide the scars that decorated his face. he had been kidnapped by the enemy when he accidentally wandered across them burning a body; he was taken, tortured and held prisoner by the scum, when kortac and you heard about what was going on at the compound where they were also holding other people.

nikto always took showers in the dead of night, never wanting anyone to see how disfigured his features had gotten from the torture he endured from the man who kidnapped him. hearing the shuffle of bags and items that were set up inside yalls tent had woken you up to see niktos figure, hunched over and digging through his bag.

“nikto? darling, what are you looking for so late at night?” a yawn escaped your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, sitting up you pushed the plush quilt off your person as nikto turned his back to you.

“иди спать, не обращай на меня внимания, Пчелка(go back to sleep, dont mind me, little bee).” his voice growled out into the darkness of the tent and night. you made sure to keep your eyes still and trained onto one place, so nikto wouldnt have to keep stressing about you accidentally looking in his direction.

“nikto, obviously its important. let me help, Родна́я(dear). please?” softly your voice reached his stressed out mind. after unrobing to take his nightly shower, when he returned to yalls tent and he was putting on clean clothes. when he reached for his mask that he placed in the pocket of his bag so as not to lose it or get it dirty, he couldnt find it which sent adrenaline down his spine.

if it was the cloth he made from ripped up clothing, he wouldnt had cared so much, but after meeting you and getting to know you, you made him a new cloth mask which was one whole piece in one color. it meant so much to him after yall got to together, that someone would do such a sweet thing for him like this, it was his most cherished item ever.

“i..i lost the mask. i took it o-off to go shower, but when i g-got back, i cant find it. i-i swear i didnt me-mean to lose it-” carefully you reached out to hold his hand in order comfort him. you werent angry or upset, you understand that he didnt do it on purpose.

“its okay, nikto. sometimes we just misplace things, its not a big deal. how about you look on the left side and i'll look on the right and see if we can find it in our things.” you whispered to him, bringing up his hand up to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand. he turned every so slightly which allowed you to see his side profile.

you made out the shape of his nose and lips, those lips that you love to kiss or run your fingers across. nikto nodded at your suggestion and moved to the left and started shifting through yalls bags, looking for any sign of his beloved mask.

you made your way to the right doing the same, shuffling and sifting through everything in the bags. you could hear niktos grunts of frustration and huffing as he looked in one place then put everything back and moved onto the next place. soon under his towel, you found his mask folded up neatly where he left upon some of your clothes.

“Родна́я, i found it over here.” i held it out to nikto with my back to him, so he could allow himself to turn around. you heard a small ‘whump’ from nikto dropping the pile of the clothes he was looking through. his hand brushed against your skin, gently and took the cloth that was neatly folded in your hand.

you could hear the shuffling as nikto secured his face with the cloth again. then before you could say something or turn back around, nikto wrapped himself around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck. despite his nose and lips being covered you feel nikto move his in such a way that let you feel the kisses through the cloth.

“thank you, Пчелка. i-i dont know what i would d-do with you..” his voice was low and tired, returning the kiss on his cloth covered cheek, you moved you both to yalls palette on the forest floor. nikto curled his body around yours as yall got comfortable and drifted to sleep that night.

thank yall for so much love on the first part, im sorry this one took so long to get out as i go to night school 7 days a week, but yay i got this done

#cod mw2 x reader #cod operators x reader #gromsko x reader #gus x reader #luna x reader #zimo x reader #reyes x reader #konig x reader #horangi x reader #calisto x reader #fender x reader #stiletto x reader #nikto x reader #honey writings #gn reader

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deadboyfriendd · 1 year

Text

Cochise l: Nellie

Summary: A dark stranger blows into town, bringing Hell with him. Little did he know, Hell was already here, in the form of you. The air here is stale and the residents stagnant. This town was as wild as the west was able, and you are the most wild thing about it.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Outlaw/Doc Holliday!Eddie Munson x Reader, wild west/Tombstone AU!, Sherrif!Steve (he has a mustache), guns and gun violence, death of minor original characters, period-appropriate death, drug use, angst, fluff, save a horse, ride a cowboy, wet dream, smut included, feminine rage embodied and I gave her a gun

My content is 18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: 4.4k

Author's Note: This is for Drac <3 thank you for beta reading!

Find the series masterlist here!

When the dust blew in from the East, Hell came with it.

And Hell hath no fury like a woman’s reproach.

1890. From the ashes of the Civil War rose a phoenix of economic expansion and spurs the great migration west. Farmers, ranchers, prospectors, killers and thieves seek their fortunes. Cattle drovers turned cow towns into armed camps with murder-rates higher than those of modern-day New York or Los Angeles. Silver is discovered in Arizona, and the prospectors dragged their young wives and their Parisian fashions with them. Siphoned together out of greed, hundreds of Texas outlaws banded together to forge a new way forward, resulting in the birth of early organized crime.

Out of this chaos came the great legendary lawmen, and none as mean as you.

The air was stale this time of year, heavy enough to flatten a lizard, when the turn of the season brought the green back to the ironwoods and the snakes back from their hides. When it brought the heat back with a haughty laughter and a heart full of vengeance. The sun cast down a glare that warped the mirage of the desert backdrop of Cochise County, turning from a comforting radiation to a wasp sting when the night turned. The cereus blossom fragrant with rot that filled the stagnant night air and its timely beauty– and ultimate untimely death.

He reaped a certain morosity with him, spurs scraping across the floor like a toll, steps sure as snow in the northern country– as they dragged the dust from his heels eastward. His skin was of alabaster, and his clothes of obsidian. He was not from here, and it drew a shudder from the mesquite doors upon their sun-dried hinges. The dirty faces of prospectors, drunks, and cattle drovers turning to peer at him under sweat-laden brows.

The Whispering Sands was not the ritzy bar, no, that was the bar located in the lobby of the Grand Hotel up the holler. No, Your dealer was as straight as a Christmastime wreath, your doors hung as crooked as your dealer, and if you didn’t carry when you walked through, you had spares. There would be no clean men and women with their Parisian dresses and costly hat pins occupying this place. This was the lowest of the low.

He peers at you from under the brim of a coal-stained, honest-to-God gunslinger wool Stetson, lined with the hammered silver and turquoise-inlaid band. It laid flat across the top and around the brim. You hadn’t seen one like it since your wedding night on the ritzy hardwood grounds of the Grand Hotel herself. He takes a seat in a singular fell swoop, frock coat flaring outwards and casting a soft breeze over your presence. Single-breasted, large notch lapels. Beneath it, his dark pinstripe trousers folded under the weight of his body, the silver brocade vest above the black cravat remaining stiff. From where your eye connected with him, you could see the nickel plating of a Colt 1873 single action revolver, sheathed under the oiled ellipse of the leather-bound shoulder holster. It was apparent he wasn’t here to push cattle.

It was a fleeting gaze, the kind that rattle each of your vertebra and settled in your coccyx. A single golden curl slipped over a broad shoulder and swung heavy in the tension between your two bodies.

There was a resonant patriarchal tenor that buzzed amongst the patrons in this space, tense on the outcome and flat-lining in deliverance. They tried to avert wandering gazes from this new resident— strung together words in staccato, interrupted by morbid curiosity and on-looking eyes. Michael Doten– amicably monickered “Mudsill”, shattered this hum like china. He was a worm of a man, slimy in all of the worst ways, and, on this day in particular, aptly under the impression of laudanum and drink. He shared these sympathies with his own father– a man no more than fifteen years his senior.

He slinked through the door with the demeanor of an old tom-cat, crooked in stride and greasy to the touch— not that you could fathom anyone wanting to touch him at all. He demanded a house whiskey with a slovenly belch– a concoction made from your own sarsaparilla, burnt raw sugar, and chewing tobacco.

“Michael, I’d say you’ve about had enough today.” You chided, firm in your answer. The stranger peered a doting gaze towards you, then turned it toward ‘Ol Mudsill from a downturned hat– wistful in demeanor and daring in residence. He watched as Michael cast a thumb of brown saliva onto your floor, intentionally ignoring the existence of the spitoon a mere few feet from it.

He sneered towards you through leather-laden eyelids, a protuberance straight from the aforementioned spittoon, and filled with piss and vinegar, “Now,” He started, “ – if I wanted an old bitch telling me what I can and can’t drink, I would have considered marrying.” It was a slimy statement with a profound lack of remorse. It dripped from the gaps of his rotting teeth like a tar.

“I wouldn’t marry you, even if I was fixin’ to face death herself.” It wasn’t the first time you had denied him a drink, nor was it the first time he had spoken ill toward you. You doubted it would also be the last. You were a harum-scarum, devil-may-care woman, tough as nails and pretty as a mink stole.

“You don’t listen too good, now do you?” Mudsill spit back, standing now. Your fingers grazed the pearl handles of the Remington Model 1890 tucked away in the fold of your dresses. You hoped to God you didn’t have to use it.

Before ‘Ol Mudsill could think of something to say back, the dark stranger stood, “That’s no way to talk to a lady.”

“Is that a fact?” Mudsill raises a wiry brow towards the man, standing erect in front of him.

“Yeah, that’s a fact.” He said back, quietly. It was a discerning quiet, the kind where you figure trouble might be brewing.

“Well, for a man that don’t go heels, you run your mouth kinda reckless there, don’t ‘ya?” The stranger said, standing a little more erect– like he was fixing for trouble, though, by the context of the rest of the conversation, you’d say trouble had already been brewing. Now, you waited for the pot to boil over, “No need to go heel to get the bulge on a tub like you, huh?”

Mudsill glared toward him though tight lids, a reckless abandon only a drunk could possess, “Is that a fact?”

“That’s a fact.”

“Well, I’m ‘real scared.” Musill replied with a bobbling nod of his head, reaching for the firearm tucked away behind his waistband.

“Damn right, you’re scared. I can see that in your eyes.” The stranger followed the movement of his hand momentarily, eyes settling over the worn wood of the stock before meeting back up with his eyes, “Yeah, go ahead, skin it. Skin that smoke-wagon and see what happens.”

“Listen Mister, I’m gettin’ awful tired of you–” He was cut off, the stranger landing a stinging, open-palmed blow to his face.

“I’m gettin’ tired of your gas, now jerk that pistol and go to work.” Mudsill stared back, stunned. Frozen like a scared lizard. Another blow. “I said throw down, boy.” A third blow landed across his cheek, harder this time. You could see where the blood filled his mouth and covered his teeth. “You gonna do something or just stand there and bleed?”

“No?” The stranger raised an eyebrow, reaching upwards to put a forceful hand on mudsill’s shoulder, “Now, come on, Junior.”

The wire snapped behind ‘Ol Mudsill’s eyes, and with a sleight of hand, he reached for the worn pistol tucked into his overcoat. The dark stranger was fast, but you were faster. The pearl grips cold and smooth against the sweat of your palms. Quickly and in one motion, you stepped out from the bar, hand forced steady only in fear alone.

“You’re bluffing.” Michael sneered towards you, taking a step forward, closer to you with the barrel now in your direction. It was enough for the stranger to bear his arms as well, though, he wouldn’t need them today. The barrel met Michael’s forehead.

“I don’t bluff.” Your thumb met the hammer, pulling it back enough for a deafening swell click, “Now your family may be back to rush me, but that won’t stop me from blowing a canoe through your head first, y’hear?”

His eyes widened, and he pulled the barrel back from you, finger leaving the sheath of the trigger and thumb only staying tucked around the grip enough to keep it held.

“Don’t come back here. Ever.” You ordered, and he nodded slightly.

“Yes’m”

The stranger spoke then, pistol still planted firmly against the back of the offender, “And you’re gonna drop that weapon right here, Michael.” He ordered.

The worn colt clattered against the floor as he tossed it from his waist-height to the ground. The stranger took this as the opportunity to grab Michael by the collar and drag him out the front doors like a calf. You could see the durst stir from outside, but didn’t sense a further commotion. You sat idly in one of your stools, letting free an exasperated sigh as you threw your head down against the bar. You didn’t sign up for this when you found yourself out west.

You felt the stock of a pistol press into the meat of your upper arm, “Here. Keepsake. Hang it over the bar, Nellie.” The stranger spoke back to you, sliding the firearm across the worn mesquite bar top.

You raised a brow at him, more at the moniker, but also at his enthusiasm, “Nellie?”

“I had a horse like you once,” He released a breathy laugh between his words, maybe more nervous at the fact that he was comparing you to a horse, “ —even after she broke she was meaner than hell, but prettier than a mink stole. It’s a pleasure, Mrs–”

He thought it was foolish, comparing you to that mean old mare, but he didn’t have time to dote on it before you stopped him mid-sentence.

“Ms.” You corrected.

He couldn’t help the way his eyes flitted down to the ring on your finger, a single thin gold band that he dwelled on for just long enough for you to notice the cogs attempting to turn in his head.

“Dead.” You clarified, and he felt his heart contract as the word left your lips.

“Sorry to hear that.” He dips his head low, only now taking off the Stetson to greet you properly, “Name’s Munson. Edward Munson.”

You shook your head, forcing that still-bruising ache away to push a smile, “Ain’t no changin’, may God have willed it, Mr. Munson.”

He matched your smile, handsome cheeks creasing deeply around the curvature of his mouth, “Just Edward will do, ma’am.”

You pulled open the humidor, nimble fingers gracing along the stack of cigars beneath its lid. You chose the one with the cleanest-looking wrapping, one that looked sufficient enough as a thank-you, before offering it to him. He took it with a nod of his head, thick fingers wrapping around the base gently before pulling the kerosene vase near him. You watched the smoke roll from between his lips in a vapid crescendo, all too graceful and all too beautiful.

“I take it you're not a prospector?” You questioned him gently, voice sure, yet smaller than his resonating alto.

He laughed softly, the kind that heaves itself from the chest. Hearty, “No ma'am.”

“Then how does someone like you find yourself in a place like this?” You leaned an elbow on the bar, chin resting firmly in the warmth of your palm. You tried to ignore the sweat building between the flesh.

He looked down at the cigar between his fingers, twirling it around and feeling the paper it was rolled in, “Well I find I could ask you the same thing–”

The bell above the door was shrill in the staleness of the air, the resonance of the prior entanglement floating back up in a cloud in an attempt to re-settle over the old furniture like silt. The man that waded through its wake was tall, but not gangly, no, he did not share the demeanor of a scarecrow. He looked like he meant business.

You pulled your attention away from Edward for a brief moment, your eyes tearing from his personage and settling over the familiar face, “Hello, Sheriff.”

“Hello, ma’am.” The sheriff tipped his hat towards you in greeting, peering briefly at the man sat at the bar in front of you, “‘Ol Mudsill seems pretty shaken up, did somethin’ happen again?”

“Nothin that Edward here couldn’t handle.” You watched as his eyes flicked back and forth between you and Edward, like he was trying to piece a puzzle together but there were too many missing pieces, “Sheriff, this is Edward Munson, just unloaded from the train in Tucson.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He reached a broad hand out to meet with the sheriff’s.

He accepted the offer, hands locked together in a firm grip, “Steve Harrington.”

“Pleasure.” Edward mentioned, politely.

“You have a place to stay, Edward?” He asked, hand still interlocked with his for a brief moment.

“Not as of yet. Know of anyone housing?”

“I’d say the Grand Hotel just across the way.”

The walk to the other side of the road is brief, but the sun beat down against Eddie’s back like a brand– the eyes that followed his movement, the hands that held the iron. The dust kicked up behind him and collected at the bases of his boots seemed to slow his stride as he sunk into its softness. He would have to have them polished tomorrow.

Steve turned to him, boots casting a hollow thud as they stepped up onto the decking of The Grand Hotel, “I am inclined to ask, what exactly happened back there?”

Eddie cleared his throat, righting himself, “Just some drunk. Got all riled up when she wouldn’t serve him and started waving his gun around.”

Steve shook his head, removing his hat to run a finger through the hair beneath it, sand ripplying against his scalp beneath his finger, “Christ, well, thank you for handling that for her. She’s been through too much this year.”

“She dealt with that right on her own, sheriff, the only part I took part in was getting him out.”

Their boots made a clunk against the sun-rotted wood on the staircase of The Grand Hotel, stairs creaking in affliction. There was a moment of silence between the two men, tense and fleeting, like there was still something to be said.

“Her husband died last spring.” Steve finally mentioned, understanding that it wasn’t his place to tell.

“She mentioned it.” Steve felt a relief at him knowing. He didn’t want to be the one to have to bear the shock of the statement.

He sighed before continuing, “Shot and killed on that bar floor. ‘Couple of bandoleros robbing the place.”

“Chist–- She seemed capable.” Eddie mentioned to him, raking his hair back under his hat. He felt the sweat bead around where the band met his skin.

“But still, no woman should ever have to bury her husband.” The sheriff said, reaching up to place nimble hands on his hips, “‘Specially not that young.”

The Grand Hotel is the essence of luxury in the west. Well, as luxurious as they could ship by train. Mahogany covered the expanse of the palace in a grandeur scale, only being broken by the pin-striped wallpaper covering the upper half of the wayne-scotted wall on the second floor. The taxidermied elk that hung above the bartop was shipped from the northern country, as were many of the axis and whitetail deer that hung on other walls.

This seemed to be the only place in this town that a fine layer of dust hadn’t settled over.

The velveteen nature of the drapery that hung over the stage to the left in a heavy abismality had remained nearly untouched by the traces of the desert around it. The gold of the drawstrings that held them back still contained the luster under the light.

He couldn’t help but to search for you in the madness of coiled, unabashedly tentative curls piled on the heads of the women in the large bustles that scraped between tables and each other. You looked like you belonged here, but he knew where you would be.

This night’s show had ended already, the lingering patrons also taking residence within the palace. The backing curtain drawn to a close and the actors retired to their quarters. Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, overrun, overplayed. Edward thought about it. Of all the things in the world to know, why learn The Devil’s craft? He figured if it was the only thing left to know, he’d probably learn it, too.

There is a man of about five foot, ten inches sat at the bar, elbows rested against the glossy finish of the bartop. He is a burly man, Eddie can see that even from his sitting position. Steve guides Eddie towards him, taking his own seat next to him. Eddie stayed standing.

He looks back behind him, Steve muttering a few words that Eddie couldn't seem to hear over the drabble of lobby patrons, “Milt. County Marshall.”

He sticks a rough hand out, and Eddie takes it in a firm clasp.

“Edward Munson.” He shakes his hand once, Milt was a man of few words.

Steve buys Eddie a drink. A golden bourbon, not watered down like many of the bars out west did for reserve. Real golden bourbon. An import. A thanks.

They settled on a less-occupied corner of the palace, one that lacked faro tables and drunk patrons. On the opposite side of the baby grande that played anything its player knew how.

“Her husband was a good man.” Steve said between sips, sweat dripping down the crystalline glass like glitter, “Too good if you’d ask me. It’s what got him killed in the first place.”

He felt the pang in his chest, a tightening of muscles like tears, “It’s a shame. Pretty woman like that having to run that place by her lonesome.”

Steve chucked a bit in agreement, looking back over his shoulder like you would somehow appear, “That isn’t by our choice. She could have her pick if she wanted it.” He took another sip of his drink, and Eddie knew he was right. You were pretty, sullen skin like satin, hair like ribbon. He’d pay all of the money in his pocket just to touch.

“She doesn’t?” Eddie questioned, looking over to meet Steve’s eyes.

“I’d reckon not.”

He tried not to think about it, instead focusing on the piano. He watched the woman sat on top, the way the lace of her undergowns flowed upwards with the swing of her ankles. He watched the man play with skilled– albeit drunk– fingers.

This place was lively, perhaps a little too lively for the hour. People still yelling obscenities and praises over faro, ice in glasses. He felt the sweat from the glass beneath his fingers, and it matched the band of it building beneath his cap. His collar felt tight, like someone had been pulling it from the back. Shouldn’t it have gotten cooler when the sun went down?

“I’d reckon I’d better turn in for the night.” He said suddenly, placing the glass down on the bar in front of him, about a milliliter of fluid left watered-down and pooling at the bottom.

He ascended the mahogany staircase to his quarters, where he would retire for the night. However, as he stripped himself of his frock coat and underclothes, he couldn’t help to peer towards the luminescent glow coming from The Whispering Sands upper floor across the bend.

The curtains billowed outwards towards the street below, casting a light over the sand beneath it like a halo. White linen backlit by yellow butane lighting. And there you sat, all woman. He’d have half a mind to buy you some night clothes, and the other half a mind to burn them if you even had them.

He watched the way your skin rippled at your lower back as your bare skin pressed against your vanity stool, and the way your skin stretched over your shoulder blades as you pulled your hair to the side, raking through it with the brush in front of you. Your lips fell into a supple pout in concentration, and your lashes kissed your cheeks as you looked down. He could feel the windowsill digging into his palms, it grounded him– kept him from free-floating into the stagnant desert air.

The Grand Hotel is a loud place, and it never sleeps. The faro games did not stop on his account, and he didn’t expect them to. He closes his eyes, a glass breaks. A fight breaks out downstairs in a triad of commotion, shuffling, and yelling. This was the first time he had been in a bed in days, yet, it felt horrendously unceremonious. Sleep would not evade him in the way he willed it.

The flooring creaked, drunk patrons hit the wall outside of his quarters with intense, muffled thuds. Two people in the suit next to him were clearly of relation. He tried to ignore the way the oak headboard creaked and hit the wall in a rhythmic fashion. He tried his hardest not to think of you.

This place did not sleep, and he knew he wouldn’t either. So instead, Edward collected his hat and gun, pulling his trousers back on and lazily doing his shirt back up.

The night air had cooled some, less blistering than when the sun was out, yet it remained stale. He walked a bit, eyes still shimmering with the adjustment of light from the palace to the stark darkness of the desert. Light traveled a lot further here, darkness even further. The hum of the palace dimmed as the distance between them grew, air heavy like a barrier that stopped the noise from traveling.

He settled himself in the soft sand beneath him, back planted firmly against the knotty base of that twisted old ironwood. Someone else still awake at this unholy hour plucked delicately at old piano keys– these ones slightly more out of tune and reverberated off of the walls with a static hum that resonated through the otherwise empty streets. Sleep evaded in a thankless percussion.

And there you were.

He allowed his fingers to trail over the delicate expanse of your shoulder, brushing soft curls over its bridge. Soft presses of his mouth trailed from your year to the valley of your clavicle. He pressed your gowns down your shoulder as he went, the loose garment sliding off with ease.

In your glorious, supple nature. All woman all the time. Your hands, nimble and soft, were forceful against his chest as you pushed him back against plush white linens. Fingers as sure as death and as right as rain. The haze from the butane lamp cast a glow around you, baby hairs illuminating around your head like a halo.

Slowly now, but with an urgency, you right yourself in between his knees, undoing the buttons of his shirt in a way that made him want to beg just to feel a finger brush against his skin. He whined as he watched you with wide eyes.

His buckle made impressions on the inside of your thigh, a welcome breeze blew through the open window, gracing the overlaying flesh in a ritual of human intimacy. Songs of “Oh- Gods” and small giggles creating perfect songs- a gathering drum backing and an underlying hum of the desert around you. You could feel his hands on your back, fingers his fingers unwrapping you from linen bed sheet confines and introducing you to your own bedroom like an heirloom– a home in which you yourself haunted. The palms of your hands feeling the smooth surface of stone beneath the skin, and the dewey droplets from his own flesh dampened them with a waxy residue.

His fingers pressed firmly into the plush of your outer thighs, and your skin was soft. Calves skin, another import. Too soft for this place. Too soft for this sadness.

“So soft.” He whispered, voice a tenor to its usual pitch.

He watched where your bodies connected, the way you slid up and down on him, the way his fingers rippled your skin where they dug in, the gyration of your hips. Your hair is down this time, braid long since combed through, and the ends of it tickle as they brush against him.

“God, Nellie.” He isn’t particularly introspective or anything, but he does know that he’ll never feel something like this again.

Your tender touch a velvety petal trailed down the expanse of his chest where it heaves, nothing left to impede your touch. No overcoats, no holster or gun. Your hands like the claws of the bobcat pawing into the sand where his heart lay in an unmarked grave.

“Edward,” You whispered against the shell of his ear, his hands pressing the center of your back to bring you close against your chest. It was a plea. It read like a prayer. “Take me, please.”

His upward thrust slowed from long, meaningful bass crescendos to harsh uneven staccatos. Your breaths became erratic in nature to match. Your release washed over you like a storm, rolling and violent and all at once. His own followed suit.

Edward realized then that this was how the west would be won. If it wasn’t, he’d wage the war himself.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #Spotify #outlaw!eddie #cowboy!eddie

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moonshynecybin · 5 months

Note

princess bride rosquez au you say....

omg yes deranged post incoming

hmm okay! so marc is like a farm boy/horse racer who falls HARD for charming fellow jockey/mild local celebrity valentino rossi until he dies tragically at sea at the hands of the evil dread pirate roberts. marc has to marry some nasty prince humperdinck in order to provide for his family but especially alex and is like. cartoonishly miserable about it… very pinched and wooden. frozen smile but brave face for alex... anyways he is out on one of his horse rides (the only time he doesn’t want to DIE.) and gets kidnapped by hmmm. see this is tough bc i think jorge/dani would make the most sense as the inigo montoya/fezzik role but the academy boys writ large would make me laugh the most as like a motley crew of unwitting ruffians. obvs not one-to-one so you decide!

anyways the dread pirate roberts (man with little earring and terrible sideburns. who could it be) comes after marc and rescues him (beats pecco, bezz, and cele’s ASS at swordplay all at once but is nice about it. coaching them on footwork lmaoo.) (max biaggi battle of wits poison goblet scene sorry to mr biaggi) but he’s is like. super pissy about marc’s decision to get married and stop riding. like kind of pointedly mean about it. VERY personal says some shit like i wonder if you were ever a fan of valentino rossi at all, if you gave it all up so easily, hmm?? anyways marc voice YOU MOCK MY PAIN. and then pushes vale down a hill. which is when he starts yelling AAAASS YOUUUU WISHHHH or some other cheeky inside joke equivalent and marc realizes he’s alive and throws himself down that hill after him zero hesitation.

but crucially!!!! i don’t think they reconcile instantly and perfectly like they do in the film. marc is really hurt vale didnt come back to him and vale is SAUR mad about marc “moving on.” like yes the mechanisms of the plot progress like they do in the movie with them risking it all for each other and marc getting sent back to humperdinck and being soooo despondent and vale breaking into the castle to rescue him (again, whichever mental image of pedrenzo or the academy boys with him you so choose here) but there’s a crazy undercurrent of tension that doesn’t get resolved until a bit later when they fuck NASTY with vale like. ripping marc’s light blue silk princey wedding outfit off of him and scattering his pretty jewels on the floor as he sucks on his tongue. and then they ride off into the sunset together :)

ALSO: the mental image of the academy boys/pedrenzo bringing vale’s post comical torture-machine dead body to a hermit miracle worker’s hut in the woods and it being casey stoner does just kill me. enea’s there the whole time he’s just vibing with his dog. cele has NO idea what’s going on.

#asks #motogp #callie speaks #rosquez

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animatorweirdo · 4 months

Text

Assigning mutuals with elf horses

(I was like... really bored then I remembered @lamemaster's post about elves reacting to our blogs, and I was slightly inspired. Sorry? I am not, so prepare for some chaos and hope you enjoy,)

Warnings: none really. It's just my opinion on how you all would do as horse owners in the horse au.

----------------------------

@a-contemplation-upon-flowers

- Not just because he is your favorite in general, but Fingon just seems like your type of horse.

- You would take tender care of him and your sunshine personality would go with his.

- I feel like you would enjoy racing and taking calm walks through the woods.

- And you would probably not get mad with his mischief, like stealing treats or playing a bit too hard with one of those giant balloons, which he ends up popping.

- Honestly, you would probably be more mad at the balloon for popping itself and then go buy another balloon because you can't stand to see Fingon sad even if your wallet is already suffering from all the other expenses.

@springfountain

- Well, my dear muffin friend. You're pretty sweet and creative with your writing, so I feel like you would go along with Galdor.

- I feel like the leaf forehead-marked stallion would enjoy listening to you reading a story or two to him while you two lie under his favorite tree in the pasture.

- He might try stealing treats from you and give you puppy eyes, and you would be tempted to give him one of your chocolate chip cookies, but since chocolate is not good for horses -- you resist in anguish.

- But it doesn't stop you from making special cookies with his favorite leaves in it.

- You two would have a sweet bond and Galdor would always be ready to hear the next story from you.

@edensrose

- I know you're solely fixated on the Ainur, but if you had a horse. I think it would be Aredhel.

- You are genuinely pretty sweet, but once you get comfortable — all hell breaks loose.

- You two would bring an equal amount of chaos to each other’s lives, and your relationship would be one of those love-hates like you find her a pain in the ass, but you can't live without her. She's technically your overgrown cat.

- Like when you find her stealing food again and rolling in the mud, you would cuss her out, but if anyone else did that --- you would destroy them because only you are allowed to do that.

- And the same goes for Aredhel. She would not accept anyone else than you as her rider. She cares for you but also has a great need to test your limits. She does get worried if she doesn’t see you half of the time.

- Make sure not to let her join forces with Celegorm. He will join in her shenanigans and you will not get any peace with two annoying horses on your ass.

- a little side note. you probably had a crush or two on the stable owners. just saying.

@eunoiaastralwings

- If you had a horse. I think it would be… Finrod.

- You two make a pretty sweet pair, and he brings a lot of silliness into your life.

- He would probably do a lot of funny things just to make you laugh, and when he senses you’re feeling sad or stressed, he turns into the cuddliest bug and does anything to comfort you.

- Like he won’t leave you alone till you at least crack a smile.

- You two would give vibes like you two had been friends in a previous life.

@lamemaster

- Nerdanel

- .........

- Do I even need to explain this?

- Like... you were cool with Feanor's owner that the two would make a couple of foals together, but when the two began to make surprises. You put a harsh stop to it after Nerdanel gave birth to the twins.

- You would probably physically threaten Feanor to stay away from Nerdanel because you are not gonna risk your sweet mare's health.

- You would also be one of the only ones, who doesn't fear him and be ready to fight him even if the giant racehorse could stomp you to death.

#silmarillion #silm fic #silmarillion imagines #middle earth imagines #crack fic #elves x mutuals #tolkien

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spenceralexdutton · 25 days

Text

Title: King of Hearts

Pairing: Spencer Dutton x Alexandra [Dutton]

Rating: M (this might change)

Setting: AU

Disclaimer: I do not own the Yellowstone characters!

The summary and plot are TBD, because this just came to me and I had to get it out of my head. I think you’ll get a good feel for what’s going on when you read but IF you need to be baited, which who doesn’t haha, Spencer is a bull rider (amongst other talents) and Alexandra is… well THAT I’m going to leave up to your imaginations for now! Likes, comments and reblogs not required but do help inspiration 💕I can already see them rolling around in the bed of his stock trailer living quarters but we have to get their first 👀

I do not currently have an alpha or beta reader so any typos are my own and I’ll do my best to catch them 🫡

Chapter 1

The paint horse stomped restlessly next to the cowboy. She knew her job and it was almost time. Her cowboy, on the other hand, was still brutishly nursing his shoulder from the fall he’d just taken off Silver King, the Charbray bull he couldn’t seem to stay on for more than five seconds.

The arena was packed, one of the more popular rodeos he’d ridden at. He was far from Montana, thankful for the four horse stock trailer he called home and the 1998 Dodge Ram dually that had gotten him here. He’d been following that bull since Wyoming. And he’d continue to, until he made those eight seconds count.

A group of giggling women made their way toward him and he sighed. Spencer Dutton didn’t have time for chatting or flirting - he had to get it together for calf roping, his mare telling him to hurry it up as she pranced in place. He was trying, Lord was he trying. But his fucking shoulder —

“I hear you’re the cowboy who has stayed on Silver King the longest.” A female English accent interrupted his thoughts. It was soft, airy and had a slight laughing arrogance to it.

“That so?” He replied gruffly, dropping the Biofreeze into his duffle before buttoning up his shirt, fighting the wince of pain. Spectators weren’t usually allowed back here. Maybe she was a VIP or owned one of the horses… he didn’t trouble himself with the thought too long.

“Yes,” she carried on, sidling up to him, hands behind her back. He gave her what was intended to be a brief glance but lasted a moment or two longer than it should have.

She had bouncing blonde curls that settled against her shoulders in a whimsical style. Her blue eyes danced before him, like she knew a secret he didn’t. “Rumor has it over 50 riders have tried and yet you’re leading in time.”

The mare stomped as he secured his worn leather gloves, regarding her wearily. “You write for a newspaper?”

“Sorry?” She cocked her head with question.

“Is this an interview or…?” He clarified, untying to mare from the pen rail.

“Oh! No, sir, it is not. Just had to come meet the cowboy who continues to try to beat the bull Rodeo Daily calls a maneater.”

That made him snort. He hadn’t heard Silver King called that yet.

“That’s what they’re calling him now huh?”

“It is. And you’re the hunter. Set out to bring him down.” She said it with such a way of excitement, like she’d read that off a movie title line.

He could feel his expression morph into some mix of amusement and boredom as he soothed Katy, the paint, with a gentle hand to her neck. “You believe everything you hear?”

“Only when I want it to be true.”

“And why would you want that to be true?”

“For the romance of it.”

“There’s no romance in this,” he replied, adjusting his hat out of discomfort. Who was she? Where did she come from? Why was she asking such… deep questions? Maybe she’d had too many drinks…

Her steady, passionate eye contact told him otherwise.

“Then why do you do it? Why put yourself in such a dangerous position constantly?”

He held her gaze. “Because dying is the most alive you’ll ever feel.”

It was like he’d lit up something inside her soul, something she’d long hid. Her eyes widen, almost mischievously as she leaned in closer. His heart beat slightly faster as he searched her eyes for some understanding of this interaction. “You don’t see the romance in that?”

He felt something within shift. Something inside of him went toward her like a dowsing rod searching for water. It was in her gaze, in her expression… he was drawn to her. And her gaze matched his, setting his long destroyed soul ablaze.

Before he could say anymore, the group of women he had heard before were surrounding her, laughing and carrying on in the way spectators always did. But he didn’t see them.

Spencer only saw her.

“Come on Alexandra, Arthur is waiting for us in the box..” one of the women said, pulling at the blonde’s arm. She let herself be pulled, but it was reluctant.

Neither spoke as she was pulled away and he was only brought back to the present when Katy stepped sideways, pushing herself into his side. He let himself be pulled back to reality as he pushed her lightly back. “Yeah yeah, I hear you, let’s go,” he pulled down one of the split reins to lead her toward the arena. His eyes lingered back toward the woman, Alexandra, though. She was gone, the sound of her friends only barely lingering in the air. But she stayed on his mind for moments longer, the question of who she was and what had just happened something that would stick with him for a while.

#spencer dutton #spencer x alex #1923 #brandon sklenar #julia schlaepfer #alexandra #alex #spencer x alexandra #alex dutton #yellowstone #spalex au #rodeo story #king of hearts

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artsy-hobbitses · 10 months

Note

I’d love to know more about blurr in your au.

They look so pretty

Oooh definitely still putting them together in my head!

But what I know about Beauregard ‘Beau’ Laourou as of now:

- They have a similar background to Drift/The Lambo Twins ie. rough upbringing, likely the eldest in a household of immigrants from Benin.

- Developed their powers at an early age and was cunning enough to keep it mostly hidden and use it subtly to steal and help keep their family fed.

- At one point of time however, Beau slipped up and Stole From The Wrong People, specifically someone related to the CEO of a sports company. This CEO stopped cops from roughing them up and brought them to her office, showing that she has CCTV footage of the entire incident, revealing them to be an Outlier. Their indignation when they ask her why she bothered bringing them here just to show them the evidence that will put them away turns to confusion when she says she’s willing to drop all charges, sweep this under the carpet and pull their family out from poverty… if they work for her. Stealing? they ask her, even more perplexed. No, you silly little whippet, she wants you to run for her.

- And run for her they do! The CEO basically sponsors Beau and turns them into the company cash cow as the Next Big Trackstar (basically living the dream Drift would have shared). They learn to hold back just enough to come out on top all the time within an ‘acceptable’ speed without raising suspicion. Product endorsement deals, parties, medals, interviews in GQ, they’ve got ALL of it, without breaking a sweat.

- But Beau’s not entirely happy. They’re aware that their family (save a younger sister) and even extended family sees them as a cash cow, and has more than once overheard arguments over how their wealth should be divided up in their absence. The inability to run, REALLY run also eats at them—the gnawing notion that to be accepted the way they are now, they have to be ‘handicapped’. As is the need to present themself in a Certain Way to keep up sales and deals for their company. It all feels hollow.

- And the anxiety over how long this house of cards may last creeps in when Beau sees a racehorse being shot after breaking a leg on the track (they had, on a whim, bet on this horse earlier). It makes them wonder what the hell the recourse is if they one day aren’t able to run any more. At some point during this time, they adopt a former racing Greyhound after finding out just how many of these animals are euthanized after they’re unable to perform anymore. (Remember the nickname the CEO gave them as a delinquent teen back then—‘Whippet’ ie. little racing dog).

Past this point it gets a little fuzzy for me. I know an argument breaks out between Beau and the CEO when they find out the company is funding Pro-Functionist politicians—CEO claims this is to ensure the status quo remains stable, because instability = closing the tracks—but Beau brings up the fact that it’s people like that who are the reason that their true identity as an Outlier has to be hidden in the first place. It turns acrimonious when Beau decides this is the time to leave, leading to CEO claiming that EVERYTHING Beau is today is because of her, which Beau counters with that company didn’t give them their gift, only sought to control and commercialize it, and (after CEO threatens to out them in an attempt to cow them) toss them aside when they’re no longer useful or compliant. And they’re done with that. If she wants to set the govt on them GO AHEAD, but those bastards would have to catch them first.

Still trying to figure out how they come into contact with the rebellion, but it is likely somewhat similar to the IDW version, with them having to deliver a message from OP to someone important, except it’s not Zeta Prime this time, it’s Rebellion!Megatron (pre-warlord days)

#inbox #Blurr #save for later

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candied-boys · 11 months

Text

🍯 Honey Cakes 🍯

Luke Randolph x fem! Reader

Tags: merpeople au, lazy!Luke, happy!Luke, possessive!Luke, romance, picnics, cottagecore, eventual smut, happy ending

Part one

2400 words

Each day that passes makes you doubt yourself more and more. As your memories fade his face blurs, bits of the conversation disappear, and the idea that a merman would eat cake feels even more preposterous than there being merfolk in the lake at all. All week while you scuttle around the bakery you're left wondering if it was nothing more than a dream or if you’ve genuinely started to lose your mind.

The spell of disbelief is broken only when, one evening while you sit gabbing by the fire, Mrs. Baker asks, “With no mother around to tell tales, did you ever hear any of the lore from ‘round these parts?”

When you shake your head she leans back in her rocking chair, and you know you're in for a long night of delightful banter.

“The fées are well-known here. Small and handsome in person; they are fond of dancing in the night-time, and in their circular dances they form the Cercles des Fées, or fairy-rings. If any one approaches their dance, he is irresistibly impelled to take part in it. He is admitted with the greatest courtesy; but as the whirling movement increases, and goes faster and faster, his head becomes giddy, and he falls to the ground utterly exhausted. Sometimes the fées amuse themselves by flinging him up to a great height in the air, and, if not killed by the fall, he is found next morning full of bruises.”

“That's awful!” you protest but the old woman merely chuckles.

“They aren't all bad. These little beings, it is also said, like the Lutins, they select particular farms to which they resort at night, and there making use of horses, harnesses and utensils of all kinds, they employ themselves at various kinds of work, of which, however, no traces remain in the morning.”

“How does anyone know they were ever there then?” you query sceptically.

“Well, you see. They are fond of mounting and galloping the horses; their seat is on the neck, and they tie together locks of the mane to form stirrups. The knotted manes are how the farmers know they've been there. Their presence, however, always brings luck, the cattle thrive where they are, the utensils of which they have made use, if broken are mended and made as good as new. They are altogether most kind and obliging, and have been known to give cakes to those to whom they have taken a fancy.”

While stoking the fire you ask her curiously, “Do faeries usually take a fancy to humans?”

“Some are malevolent and only play tricks, others come to warn of danger or death. Very few of the fair folk dare to reveal themselves, yet I recall hearing quite a number of tales of romance between fay and humans when I was a wee babe.”

“Romance?”

“Certainly, dear. Legend has it that the royal castle was built with fay magic. It all began with the story of the nobleman Elinas and the mysterious woodland beauty Pressine. Elinas had recently lost his wife and was out hunting to distract himself from his grief. In the forest, he came to drink at the Well of Thirst and heard Pressine singing nearby. They returned to his hunting lodge and talked through the night, and Elinas fell in love and asked her to marry him. Pressine agreed, noting how the devotion he showed to his first wife promised the same for his second. She made him swear an oath to one condition, however, that he never try to see her at the birth of any of their children. Elinas agreed, and the two became happily married.”

Sipping her tea she continues, “In time, Pressine gave birth to triplets, three girls – Melusine, Melior, and Palatine – and when Elinas heard the news, he was overcome with joy and rushed to the bedchamber to see them, forgetting his oath. Pressine was outraged, calling him a traitor to his word, and then took the girls and spirited them away, leaving Elinas to mourn his loss for the rest of his life. Pressine also mourned over the loss of her true love, however, and she brought the girls to a high mountain each morning where they could look out upon Elinas’ realm while she told them they would be living there if their father had only kept his word.”

“That's tragic. It's not much of a romance…”

“True, but I still enjoyed the story as a child because my grandmother would say the mountain is the one behind the castle and the lake at the foot of the hills is where Pressine lived before she fell in love, and thus that’s where she returned broken-hearted to her true form. When I was young I remember there were many rumours about faeries living in the lake. Of course, there were also rumours that the faeries would drown passers-by, so I never went near it.”

During the long walk through the royal forest, you spin the story again and again in your head contemplating whether the legends were ever meant to be more than just a way to spook children out of swimming in the lake for their own safety. Lost in thought, you arrive before you’ve even realised how far you’ve come, and only stumble to your senses when blinded by a shimmering brilliance.

Sprawled upon the warm granite shelf that drops into the water, he lay asleep bathing in the golden sun. The moss masking your steps and the north sun keeping your shadow at bay, you approach softly. Setting the basket aside to kneel at his rusty locks, you bask in his presence unable to believe he’s not a dream.

His lashes cast elegant shadows on his cheeks. His arms, like sculpted marble, cross beneath his head. His scales toy with the sunlight, turning its rays into glitter as if they should be the strongest of the two.

The wind teases his hair, fluttering the already messy strands that frame his handsome face. Thoughtless in the moment, rapt by his beauty, you reach out to brush the fringe out of his eyes. In that instant, your wrist is snatched so quickly you can't even register his movement.

Pale jade peers out lazily from under heavy eyelids as he asks, “How long y’ gonna sit there starin’ at me for?”

“Sorry. I just can't believe you're actually real…”

He hums amusedly, “Maybe I'm not, but I guess y'll have y’r proof if I eat all the cake y’ brought, wonya?”

With that same cheeky grin he flashed last week he releases your hand and rolls over to pry open the basket himself.

“Oh! What's the other thin’?” he asks upon peering under the lid.

“I'll tell you if you tell me your name first,” you chirp with a coy smile.

He looks you once over; then the basket in turn, his lips pulled to one side like he's contemplating whether it's worth it before answering.

“Luke. What's y’rs?”

You introduce yourself and as promised tell him what the basket holds.

“It’s a buttermilk pie with toasted honey. They had apple blossom honey at the market this week too, so I picked up a jar for you.”

“Not that I'm complainin’ or nothin’, but weren' it a lotta work to make this much?” he asks and pops a honey cake in his mouth.

Digging out the pie and untying the kerchief you answer, “Not really. I work at a bakery where we make things like this all day long. Do merfolk have jobs and such?”

“Nah. There may be a lotta us, but we mostly just look after ourselves and our kinfolk. Nothin’ like y’ have with y’r money and y’r markets up here,” he shrugs and steals another cake.

“So how do you usually spend your days then if you're not working?”

Rolling into his back once more he stares up at the sky and yawns, “Mmm, when I'm not nappin’ I'm usually makin’ somethin’. My sister likes it when I make her things. Growin’ up she was all I had, so I did everythin’ I could to make her happy.”

Skirting the darker implication, you ask what he would make for her as you begin to slice the pie.

“When she was a lil' thin' she liked it when I’d carve trinkets for her out o' soapstone — animals like bears and deer and ducks. Now the brat’s too old for toys. Wants combs ‘n accessories for her hair, so I make 'em outta quartz or amethyst. Whatever I find.”

Though he sounds a little miffed at his sister's new interests there's a warm look in his eyes and a gentle arc to his thin lips as he speaks. You suppose that's just what it's like watching someone you love grow and change, though you wouldn't know yourself for being an orphan.

When he stretches over his head for another cake, you notice the new green and yellow banded jewellery on his wrists.

“Did you make those cuffs you're wearing too?”

“Mhm,” he hums through a mouthful. “These’re jasper. It's common ‘round here ‘cause the mountain used to be a volcano. The lava tubes left crazy long caves, and where bubbles got trapped in the lava as it cooled water and minerals seeped in. So it's easy to find gems like agates ‘cause when the rock wears away, the crystals fall out and get buried in the sediment.”

After admiring them for a bit you wonder aloud, “But you can't use fire to forge chisels and such, so how do you make them without tools?”

“Without tools? Ya think I carve ‘em with my teeth or somethin’? ‘Course we have tools,” he laughs and sits up.

“Everythin’ we use underwater is made o’ stone. The tools are just made outta even harder stone. I chip away bigger parts and carve ‘em up with hard, sharp rocks. Then, I use long, thin rocks to do detailed work like the teeth on a comb. After that it's a lotta polishin’, but we have a lotta sand. Just takes patience.”

“That's incredible. I can't imagine how much effort goes into a single piece. My pie seems rather humble in comparison.”

Dishing up the slices, you hand him a fork and a dish. Pale green eyes alight with anticipation, he takes a bite half the size of the whole piece. You end up serving him seconds before you're even two nibbles in.

“So what do you eat underwater? Do you eat everything raw? Is there anything but fish down there?”

He shakes his head, swallowing a mouthful of the soft dessert, before explaining, “We dunna cook over a fire , but we have other ways o’ preserving food. Some foods we salt, others we pickle. Most of it we eat fresh though ‘cause there's plenty to enjoy besides fish — shells, clams, turtles, lots o’ green plants, roe in the summer, roots in the fall.”

“Nothin’ as sweet as y’r treats though,” he beams and holds out his already empty plate for another refill.

“So how deep is the lake?” you query, curious how there's room in there for all the merfolk to never be seen from the surface.

“It’d take me from when the sun is highest in the sky to when it's just above the western horizon to swim to the bottom and back.”

“That's over five hours!! That's so deep!!”

“And I swim real fast too.”

“How do you see when it's pitch black?’

“We have good vision. There’re some creatures that glow too, but mostly we just use our other senses — echolocation, pressure, the shift o’ the current, scent, whatever.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon asking him everything about what it's like to live underwater — or at least as many questions as you can get in before he finishes all the goodies you brought for him.

But this time he doesn't run away as soon as the basket is empty. Instead he lies back just as you found him a few hours ago, arms crossed under his head and eyes closed.

You were starting to wonder if he'd actually fallen asleep until he slipped one hand out and lazily reached up to the sky to let a chickadee perch on his finger. Recalling what he said the first day, you watch fascinated as the little bird chirps away at him and he whispers back.

Hardly a minute later, a dozen tiny birds have flocked to his side. Too busy pecking away at the crumbs on the ground, they pay you no mind. A few take turns hopping up on his palm for a chat. Others seem to find it fun to weave in and out of his long hair where hangs in loose strands.

Tone hushed as not to startle the darling creatures you ask, “What are they saying?”

“They wanna know what I'm doin’ up here with a dangerous monster like you,” he quips, a teasing lilt in his voice as his green eyes catch yours from the side.

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish while you attempt and fail to defend yourself.

“Actually, what are you doing up here? I know I'm no danger to you, but it doesn't seem like sunbathing is popular with merfolk judging by the fact we're all alone. Are you allowed above water?”

“Nope,” he answers, popping the p like a bubble. “But I dunna give a damn.”

“Aren't you going to get in trouble?”

“Nah, no one cares enough to bother me. They know I'm just up here ‘cause I'm bored.”

“Are you sure? I don't want to get you in trouble… and uh… I definitely don't want any trouble…”

Luke merely shrugs, slipping his arm back under his head when the little bird takes flight.

“Huh. That's funny. I'm pretty sure y're not suppos' be on the palace grounds at all.”

He chuckles at your self-condemning silence. “Y’ wouldna be here if y’ didna think it's worth gettin’ in trouble for.”

Part three...

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri fanfiction #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikemen luke #ikemen prince luke randolph #luke randolph #ikemen prince luke #ikepri luke #mermay #mermay 2023

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eriquin · 9 months

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The Prophetic D&D Game, Part 7

Last bit of the second session. Who's going to get cursed next? I wonder.

(master post)

Part 7

As they argued that this was too many different ways to split the party, Eddie got up to check on the other two. They had come up with a list of things they were investigating, based on Grant’s note. He had them roll some dice for research and talked them through some strange reports from thirty years back. He gave them the name of one suspect. Sir Englund had been accused of the murder of his family but declared insane after saying it was due to a demonic influence. He was still in the asylum, so they decided to catch up with the rest of the group and share their knowledge.

“Let me see what the freshies have come up with first,’” Eddie said. “I’ll see how hard it’ll be getting the band back together.”

“Don’t you hate juggling this many stories?” Grant asked.

“Au contraire, my friend,” Eddie said. “I am a jester at heart. I love juggling.”

He slunk back to the main table, where the freshmen were talking quietly among themselves about what to do next. They looked up when he arrived.

“Okay,” Mike said. “We’re going to wait until Natalia’s back to ask her if her friend had symptoms. Meanwhile, Sadie is going to break into Grace Manor to look for a diary or something while Gaten and I play lookout and possibly provide a distraction.”

“Or a quick getaway,” Dustin said. “We have horses, right?”

“I think you might have a pony,” Eddie said, ruffling his hair. “But yes, you have fine steeds for a fast escape, if need be.”

He walked Lucas through a quick raid on a noble house. Sadie was good at hiding and sneaking through the rooms, and quickly found her way to Lady Grace’s private chambers. They’d been searched by the guards, of course, but Sadie found some clues to bring back to the others. He scribbled down a note for Lucas and passed it over. Then he had him roll some dice to escape unseen. Lucas rolled poorly.

“When Sadie leaves the manor, she hears people shouting that they see someone sneaking over the wall. Gaten and Joe are waiting just around the corner with the horses—”

“And pony,” Mike said, snickering. Dustin grumbled.

“Horses and pony.” Eddie grinned. The intra-party bickering was fun, sometimes. “What do you do?”

“I run up to them, jump on the extra horse, and yell at them to get the lead out,” Lucas said.

There was some more dice rolling to be had, and Eddie ruled that they managed to get away without pursuit. They regrouped near the ranger’s station outside the east gate and met up with Maya and Natalia as well. With the party back together, they checked all their notes.

“So we have a madman who might have information about the last time this happened, which was thirty years ago,” Gareth said.

“And we have Lady Grace’s medical diary. It looks like she was having trouble sleeping and terrible headaches for some time, and then in her last few days she got some disturbing visions. She was seeing a healer about them,” Lucas said. He frowned as Eddie started writing down a note.

“Sure sounds like a psychic attack to me,” Dustin said. Eddie kept writing and didn’t acknowledge them.

Grant finally got his attention. “Natalia might know if Logan had anything like that happen to him, right?”

Eddie held up his finger. “One second,” he said. It was a very long note, and he finished it and folded it up tight. “Repeat your question, please?”

“Does my character know if the other murder victim was also under psychic attack?” Grant asked.

Eddie leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “You want to roll for it?”

“Do I have to? I mean, she’s got pretty high wisdom and obviously she’s very observant.”

“Yeah, fine,” Eddie said. Grant sometimes hated getting bogged down in the mechanics of rolling dice when role playing, so it was easier to let him present a quick argument for why, in character, he would know these things. “Do you want a note or...”

“You can just tell everyone,” he said, waving at the rest of the table. “I’m not going to keep it secret.”

“Natalia remembers Logan being squirrely and nervous about stuff. He didn’t complain about headaches, but over the past few days he was rubbing his head a lot and getting distracted. He definitely seemed off, but he didn’t talk about it.” The group nodded and started discussing what that meant, and how to figure out if more people would be affected.

Eddie got up and stretched his shoulders. It was starting to get late. They hadn’t had any real combat this session, but the players seemed satisfied with that. With the note he’d written tucked into his hand, he walked around the edge of the group as they talked through what the psychic attacks meant and how it tied into the past murders. Grant wanted to investigate the asylum, while Dustin said they should talk to Lady Grace’s healer. Eddie stopped behind Lucas and dropped the note into his lap. When Lucas looked up, he grinned and winked at him.

Mike noticed Lucas unfolding it and reading it over and got the rest of the table to quiet down. Lucas looked up at Eddie. “This happens now?” he asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” Eddie said with a nod as he returned to his throne. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

Lucas gulped. “Uh, guys. I think I know who the next victim is going to be.” He gingerly tapped his own chest.

The room exploded in protests and Eddie leaned back in his chair and cackled at the chaos.

Tagging: @weirdandabsurd42, @10moonymhrivertam

#the prophetic d&d game #my writing #hellfire club #stranger things

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leon-swedfinqs · 6 months

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TEEHEEE HIIIII

so about your DnD au

because I'm obsessed

are we gonna get colored versions of the boys soon? because my absolute favorite part of fan art is coloring and I NEED TO MAKE MORE FAN ART AHHHHH

Also, I'm a little confused about the like... timeline of events, and the world. Because I thought it gave medieval vibes but it looks like it's more modern???

Hiiii!!

So yeah, I do have a colored piece of art!! You can find it here, I posted it a while back. (Granted it was at like 2 am EST and with how tumblr works and my constant reblogs my shit gets buried LOL)

The world!!

I’ll start with the world first because that’s easier to understand. The world itself is a mix between medieval and modern, as there are modern things such as some technologies, larger cities, the food, etc. but also medieval in the sense that things are split into kingdoms, weapons like swords, and transportation via horse and carriages and stuff like that. The best way I would compare it with is the world of The Adventure Zone: Balance, which is one of my biggest inspirations for this story.

The world that the McElroys build there is an almost seamless mix of modern elements with medieval fantasy, which is the exact vibe I am gunning for.

I like this sort of world vibe because it leaves everything open with little limitations — do I want them to have a coffee machine? Sure! Are there blacksmiths around to forge swords? Yeah!! Modern bathrooms? Fuck yeah!!!

Timeline! Timeline! Timeline!!

So I’m still working on the outline (and when by still I mean I need to write it and get it out of my brain), but in terms of what happens when, I’ll lay out a basic list (to keep things vague ;) )

Aziraphale and Crowley are at their respective “homes” (the church and the school)

Their secrets are discovered and they fight for their lives and run away

The two travel alone for a while

They both end up accepting the same job and end up working together

They both decide to continue traveling together out of “convenience”

After traveling together for months decide to become an official “business” of adventurers for hire

A couple of years into this business they get a strange letter from a “Device” about a job

Crowley gets hired to help tutor Adam with Anathema

People from the old academy are ordered by Lucifer to track Crowley down

Said person is lazy and hired Sergent Shadwell to do the job

Shadwell is also lazy and hires Newt to do the job

Anathema, Crowley, Adam, the them, and Aziraphale go to an observatory to help Adam

Shit goes down, Anathema and Newt stick around

After working for a couple of months a strange young adult (Muriel) starts following the team around

Due to village gossip, Nina and Maggie separately decide to try to work for the team

Gabriel is sent out by the church to locate Aziraphale after Muriel doesn’t return

Beez is sent out by Lucifer to locate Crowley

Aziraphale gets taken :)

The team, with word from Beez and Gabriel, go to fight against the church and bring Aziraphale home

Recovery period ™️

Crowley gets threatened by Lucifer about his connection to Ophiuchus

He runs off in an attempt to protect his family

Fire :) and fighting :)

Freedom…?

Lmao uhhh, yeah! Very brief, but this is essentially a summary of things that may tickle the thinking brain lol

#good omens d&d au #good omens d&d #good omens au #good omens #lmao lore dump #Mari rambles #silentambience #Mari answers #ineffable husbands #aaaa #Crowley good omens #Aziraphale good omens

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fuckingfinwions · 1 year

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A/B/O AU where Feanor and all his sons are alphas

Maglor was certain that his eldest brother was up to something. For one thing, there was that smug look on his face. But also, Maedhros had been asking their brothers for various things. None of the rest had put it to together, but Maglor made a habit of watching his older brother. As the two eldest alphas they were natural rivals, and with Maglor's gift for song and Maedhros's for convincing speech they competed in public opinion as well.

Maedhros had been careful, asking for one or two things at a time. He'd gotten rope that Amrod wove, supposedly for making a new lead for his horse "So nothing that will scrape up my hands if he pulls." He'd asked Maglor if his practice room was really that good at preventing sound from escaping, and Maglor had demonstrated (with Maedhros outside to note the quiet and so he couldn't trap Maglor, Maglor was no idiot.) Amras had a herd of goats that he had caught from the wild himself, and had asked for tips on how to get a dumb animal to relax around you. (Celegorm rather cheated, being able to speak to them.) Maedhros had gotten sturdy leather gloves from Celegorm, and tips on how to tie up a lover without injuring them from Caranthir, and finally a ring gag from Curufin.

The last item was what made the conclusion unavoidable. Maglor had asked Curufin if he had any reluctance over fashioning such a device, but Curufin had shrugged and said, "He gave his word not to use it on me. I suppose it's tough luck for whoever he has his fun with."

Maglor confronted Maedhros the next day, on a terrace where they could be seen but not easily overheard. "You're going to bitch someone."

Maedhros didn't deny it. "I want an omega, and you know there aren't enough."

It was true; born omega males were rare. So much so that some people thought them fake, and anyone claiming to be so was a bitched omega who had run away from his alpha. Most alphas married females, never getting to experience the rut triggered by an omega's heat, or remained alone.

"So you plan to kidnap some poor random elf and keep him in my music room for a month?"

"Don't worry, I have a plan to make it faster. An I already have someone in mind."

"An alpha you'll need to tie up and force his mouth his open?" Maglor wasn't surprised that no one had volunteered to have their body and emotions so thoroughly rewritten, but there were practicalities.

"Yes. He's worth it."

"They're going to miss his absence at court, you know."

"Hardly, he never attends."

"Nolofinwe will still notice his son's absence, and I'm not going to cover for you."

"Nolofinwe - you think I'm planning to bitch Fingon? I've told you a dozen times, we're just friends."

Maglor sighed. "Well, whoever else it is, Father will be happy about that at least."

Maedhros smirked. "He may be afterwards, but not at first. I'll enjoy his reactions very much, though."

Maglor was stunned. "Are you serious - he's our father!"

"He'll be improving the lives of his sons, it's very appropriate. And he appreciates it when all of us work together for one cause, it's very appropriate."

"You getting an omega by tricking the rest of us into giving you supplies isn't very much like cooperation."

"No, which is why we can all share him."

"Does that even work? If you bitch him, he'll be too repulsed by my scent to suck on my knot."

"Omegas hate the scent of strange alphas. If we have seven alphas bitching him, he'll recognize all of us as his mates even if he hates it."

"Curufin will never go along with doing anything against Father."

"Perhaps, but if we show him Father already fucked out and horny, he won't want to be left out."

Maglor hummed as he thought this over. "So, what's our plan?"

Maedhros hid his amusement at how quickly Maglor had gotten on board with the idea. "The two of us and Celegorm the first night - you and I will come up with a reason for Father to go in the music room, and Celegorm will need little convincing. I'll bring Caranthir and the twins the next morning, once he's too worn out to fight as much."

"It would take a lot for Father to be too exhausted to fight."

"True, but with seven of us to keep him busy, he'll have at least one cock knotted in his holes for days straight. That much alpha cum should bitch him within a week, and send him straight into heat as well."

Maglor paused a moment to enjoy the mental image of his father - his future omega - sweaty and covered in cum and still desperate for more. "I suppose as eldest, you're going to demand some special privilege over him?"

"Just that I'm the first one to fuck his new pussy when that opens up. You all can take turns after, and I don't care who sires our father's grandchildren."

#alpha/beta/omega au #alpha bitching #anon asked for victim feanor so here you go!#bitched feanor au

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re8medieval · 2 years

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The Harem of House Dimitrescu

Chapter 1: The Noble

Warnings: Mentions of NSFW

Welp. This is my first Re8 fic with an OC so please go easy on me lol. I’m starting to build up the lore for my AU so any feedback would be appreciated. Thanks for reading!

The walls of Castle Dimitrescu stood ominously over her like the gates of Hades, and standing in front of the entrance was Cerberus in her gargantuan glory. The moonlight caught her armer in a way that cast a divine glow. Greta approached with her head held high. She wasn’t just some blushing noblewoman. She was a Heisenberg. Whatever fate was in store for her, she could handle it, for she was raised to be as strong as the horse on her family’s crest. The lady of the castle appraised her languidly and an amused smile played at her lips.

Greta was regarded courteously and led into the enormous estate. An array of servants, all female, bowed their heads at her. Greta involuntarily felt her chest swell. If there was any good to come out of this betrothal to her family’s ancient enemy, it was the fact that she was no longer just a nobody under Mother Miranda’s thumb. Here, she was somebody. Here, she had power. She didn’t care if she had to become the gigantic bitch’s personal blood bag for eternity. She was going to take what she was owed and restore her family’s honor.

A giggling sound could be heard all around her. Greta thought she was imagining it, but then, a swarm of flies emerged from the shadows, hovering right in front of Greta’s face. It took all of her willpower not to jump back. Three figures took form, all dressed in dark robes. Their faces were gleeful despite being covered in dried blood as they surrounded Greta, one of them tugging on and inspecting the layers of her formal dress. Another looked up at Dimitrescu while bouncing on her heels.

“Is this her, mother?” She chirped. Greta had heard many-a-rumor about the three daughters Dimitrescu and their violent tendencies, but she wasn’t expecting anything like this. Unlike the monstrous image she had in her head, their behavior was distinctly childlike.

“Yes dear,” said Dimitrescu, bending down to brush a stray red hair from her daughter’s face. “And since Greta will be joining our household, I expect that you give her the same respect you give me.” The girl smiled joyfully and clapped her hands together.

“Can she braid hair mother?” Another daughter spoke up excitedly, although more calm than her two sisters who seemed delighted at the idea.

“Perhaps another time. She must be tired from the long journey. How about you show her to her chambers?” The Lady suggested.

Greta couldn’t bring herself to comprehend anything that was said. It felt like she had been swept up into a whirlwind trying to keep track of the three daughters. One thing was for certain; she wasn’t at all prepared to be a stepparent.

The week leading up to the ceremony went by so quickly that Greta still couldn’t believe it when she was being helped into her wedding dress. When the maids put on the finishing touches, she turned and looked into the mirror. She could hardly recognize herself. The ceremony itself was a blur. It was mostly formalities anyway. It’s purpose was to reaffirm the public’s respect and admiration for their monarch and the four houses. At the reception, despite her nerves, Greta found comfort in the fact that Alcina was a natural at entertaining guests. That way, she could just sit back and leave the talking to her, now, spouse. Her younger cousin, Karl, was understandably seething at the far end of the table. It had to hurt seeing the only family he had left be forced to marry his sworn enemy. She made eye contact with him and his expression turned from pissed off, to solemn. He wasn’t the type to show much emotion other than anger, but Greta could read him like a book. The way his eyes bore into her, almost desperate, he seemed to be trying to assure himself that she would be ok. She gave him a subtle nod, affirming that she could take care of herself, which seemed to comfort him at least a little.

Greta watched herself be undressed by maids for the wedding night much like she had done that morning when they were putting her in all the bits and bobs for the ceremony. Tonight she was to perform her first duty as the Lady’s consort. The Heisenberg in her grimaced at being the one to ensure the future of House Dimitrescu. She tried not to show how nervous she really was, but one of the maids had obviously noticed the tension in her body.

“Don’t worry dear. Her Ladyship isn’t as savage as the rumors suggest,” she said. A part of Greta wanted to ask how the maid could know such a thing, but she kept her mouth shut. She was left in only her thin chemise when the maids scurried off, but not before offering varying words of congratulations and encouragement. Left alone, Greta sat on the bed and tried to calm her shaking hands. After what felt like an eternity, there was a knock on the door. Greta quickly stood up to greet her visitor.

“Come in,” She called out, trying to keep her voice as even a possible. The knob turned with a click and the old door that was twice Greta’s size whined in protest as it was pushed open. Her new wife, in a similar state of undress as herself, stepped inside. Greta tried not to let her eyes wander. Despite being in her undergarments, the Lady carried herself with the same grace and confidence as usual. They stood a few feet away from each other and for the first time since meeting the woman, Greta could sense hesitation. During their first meeting, Greta’s lace and silk stood out in stark contrast to the Lady’s steel, but now they were on an even playing field. Lady Dimitrescu abruptly moved to sit on the bed, slightly brushing against Greta as she passed. Greta felt herself shiver at the touch, then internally scolded herself for showing weakness. She had never been with someone this way, never had the time, but she knew well enough how things worked. Her heart was racing as she sat next to her Lady on the bed. Even while sitting, she still towered over her.

“I take it you know how the wedding night usually goes?” The Lady, spoke carefully, almost posing the statement as a question. Greta nodded, not trusting her own voice.

“Are you nervous, dear?” She asked. Greta felt something in her convulse at the term of endearment. Much worse, she detected a slight hint of sincerity. Greta tried to convince herself that it was just a ruse, made to lure in her prey.

“Mother Miranda wants the act done as soon as possible, but I prefer my lovers to be willing. If you do not wish for it to happen tonight, then I understand. We could keep it our little secret,” The Lady said. Her lips quirked with a hint of mischief at the notion of keeping something from the Monarch. Greta felt a wave of relief rush through her body, but she also felt a surge of determination. Without thinking, Greta reached out, grabbed the Lady’s large hand, and awkwardly placed it on her breast. At this, Dimitrescu’s stoney face visibly cracked until she burst into laughter without removing the hand. The grandiose facade crumbled before her very eyes, and Greta felt herself blush. She couldn’t help but feel as if she was seeing something very private. Without the pomp and false splendor, the head of House Dimitrescu looked more attractive, Greta thought.

“Ah, my apologies, but are you sure you know what you’re doing, dear?” The lady said after the laughter had subsided. There it was again: “dear”. And Greta found that she didn’t hate it as much as the first time.

But, not liking the questioning of her knowledge, Greta steeled herself and fixed the Lady with a hard look, one that she returned with an amused smirk. Wordlessly, she was taken into the Lady’s mighty yet graceful arms and lowered onto the pillows.

“Lady Dimitrescu-“

“Call me Alcina,” The Lady interrupted.

“Alcina,” The name felt strange on her tongue. “I haven’t done anything like this before.”

“No offense, Dear, but I could tell,” Alcina answered, amusedly. She stroked the side of Greta’s face with her knuckles so lightly that it tickled. “Do not worry your pretty little head. I’ll be gentle.”

#kingdom of shadows au #re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #oc x canon #alcina x oc

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incorrectjane-andthedragon · 1 year

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Dark Nights, A Jane and Gunther AU Fic

So, I started wondering about what Jane and Gunther’s relationship would be like if forces conspired to bring out some of the worst in them. What if Jane was rather spoiled, and let her friendship with Dragon and title as first female knight get to her head, making her overly prideful? What if Gunther had grown up away from Kippernia?

So, I wrote this speculative fic. I guess you could summarize it as: What if Jane and Gunther didn’t become rivals until they were already knights?

The rain was no longer pouring, but the lingering constant drizzle kept the ground soft, turning it into mud that stuck to her boots.

Dragon was probably trying to distract himself from the rain dampening his wings by making mud pies right now. She wished he was here with her, but for everyone’s sake she’d been forced to leave him behind, waiting for her at the edge of the woods surrounding this town.

Thank goodness the arranged meeting spot was already in sight, she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. Granted, it was far from the most painful thing she’d suffered in her time as a knight, but she was still eager to get this over with as quickly as possible.

This included the arranged meeting with the other knight. While she doubted she would be taken prisoner or anything, she’d met the other knight in passing before, and let’s just say she wasn’t expecting tea and cake.

She’d initially had some confusion and doubts about a meeting of two knights being ordered to take place at a common tavern, but as soon as she walked in, she understood why. It was sparsely populated and very quiet, highly unusual for any common tavern on a rainy day. This place was most likely a front.

Though she hadn’t really gotten a good look at him the first time they’d met, she recognized him (or at least hoped she did) sitting in a corner, far away from the few other patrons.

She approached him, hand on the hilt of her sword in case of emergency. And, to let him know she was a knight.

“Breech?” She asked.

He nodded once, curtly and sharply.

She took a seat.

The meeting had begun.

“Turnkey.” He said her name flatly, a pure acknowledgement of her presence.

He was about her age, maybe a little bit older. He looked rough around the edges: there were many small scars on his face from combat and he looked like he needed a nap and a bath. He most likely couldn’t wait until this meeting ended and he could go back to his fancy, massive, comfortable home.

The Breech family had fled Kippernia years and years ago after allegations of treason. In the time since, they had done surprisingly well for themselves, and now Gunther Breech was said to be an excellent knight in his own right.

Her fingers twitched on the hilt of her sword.

We’ll see about that.

Gunther gave her a once over. She was a little bit younger than him, with a firm set to her jaw. She was damp from rain and sweat.

Is riding a dragon really that intense?

I always thought it would be more comfortable, empowering, and less boring than riding a horse. If you ever felt lonely you could simply talk to the dragon and it would talk back.

Everyone and their mother knew about Jane and her talking dragon. They were Kippernia’s sweethearts, their pride and joy.

They were the only thing keeping the small kingdom from being usurped by a kingdom like his.

One of Jane’s fingers twitched. Her left leg bounced once, then she stilled it.

Pent up energy, or boredom, or nervousness.

Well, let’s get on with this, then.

“Your reputation precedes you, Turnkey.” His eyes flickered down. “I must say, I-”

“Let’s not waste our time.” She said firmly, her green eyes boring into his. “Our kingdoms have agreed to work together on a plan. The exact details of this plan are currently unknown to both of us, but we have been assigned to work together to help our respective rulers execute it.”

He leaned back a little, mildly surprised. Then he nodded.

Flattery won’t work on her. At least, not yet.

“It’s good to see you’re up to speed.” He said, meaning it genuinely. “I suggest we gather more information, as much of it as possible, before proceeding with our next move. And whatever this next move is, I recommend we do it stealthily. Whoever our enemies are, if there are any, must never suspect a thing.”

She nodded slowly, almost begrudgingly.

“How do you suggest we accomplish stealth with a dragon?”

Ah yes, factoring the dragon into the equation. Jane and the thing were practically joined by the hip.

Or joined together by the mind with a link of invisible string, as rumor had it. That was what one tearful prisoner had claimed once he could form sentences again after Jane and her dragon defeated his gang of pirates in an explosion of flames.

She took his extended silence as a loss for words.

“Stealth is not usually what Dragon and I do. We can scope out and scout when necessary, but-”

“But you want to deal with this the same way you dealt with those pirates a few months ago. With smoke, flames, and torture.”

“Don’t interrupt me. And why did you say torture?” She growled.

A ship belonging to Gunther’s father had gotten caught in the madness by mistake. They hadn’t lost anyone, thank goodness, but no one who had witnessed the fight had ever been the same. Their extremely vivid memories had proven very helpful for Gunther when it came to learning the ways of the knight he was soon to spend a lot of time with.

He shrugged. “It was quite a ferocious display of strength.”

“It was indeed.”

“Then why did you sound so defensive? Ah, I see. You don’t want certain people to know that you and your dragon, the darlings of Kippernia, were responsible for what happened to some of those pirates.”

Her scowl deepened. “They deserved it.” was all she said.

Those pirates had deserved it. They were brutal, rotten, and very dangerous. They deserved to have their ship sunken. They deserved to be taken prisoner. They deserved to have Dragon drag them to shore. They deserved to have her sword’s blade at their throats as she demanded answers. They didn’t answer, so they deserved to be threatened with beatings and more fire. They’d spat in her face and questioned and taunted her, so they deserved to be punched even more.

“What did I ever do to you?” one pirate had asked, after he’d finished spitting out a mouthful of blood.

“Try to think next time you taunt me.” She’d snarled. “Now where’d you hide the stolen goods on land?”

“I’m not telling anything to a knight who can’t do anything without the help of a giant, stupid lizard.”

That earned some agreeing hoots and hollers from the pirates.

“It’s probably because she can’t do anything for herself.”

“Can’t do anything but sew!” A third pirate had jeered.

She’d stabbed him with her sword.

That had subdued the rest of the prisoners into silence.

She’d ordered Dragon to pick the prisoner-pirates up in his claws and carry them to the Kippernian prison where her mentor and the other knights had agreed to meet her. She’d been allowed to do this all by herself.

They were about halfway there when the three prisoners she had finally broke their silence in small, trembling voices.

“Uh, Lady?”

“Hey, Lady. Uh, Dragon Lady?”

“Dragon Knight?”

That earned her respect and attention. “Dragon, slow down a little. Yes?”

“Um, my crewmate, the man you stabbed- he’s- I don’t think he’s- I can’t tell if he’s breathing.”

“Even though he’s bandaged, he has bled an awful lot all over my claws.” Dragon added.

“Dragon, can you check if he’s alive?”

Dragon gently shook the injured man. He groaned in agony.

“Still alive. Let’s keep flying. For now. We’ll stop very soon and check on him again, all right? We’re almost there.”

“Almost where? Our dooms?”

That snarky pirate had no idea how right he was.

They had been close- so close- to the prison when Dragon felt the injured man’s muscles start to slacken dangerously. He’d felt his breathing slow dramatically.

She’d ordered Dragon to descend at once.

But they weren’t fast enough. He’d died soon after being laid on the ground. Dragon’s rough handling had done more damage to his gaping wound than his body could handle.

For a long moment, there had been nothing but terrible silence.

The pirates stared at their dead comrade.

“You killed him.” One of them breathed.

She fought the urge to close her eyes, but she did not look at him.

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

She drew her sword.

Dragon inhaled.

Both acted on instinct.

Jane and Dragon both returned to the castle empty-handed and stinking of charred flesh.

The visible blood and gore on her sword made everyone step out of her way as she made her way to the throne room.

Speaking to the king and queen was agony, but it was only when her mentor pulled her aside and spoke to her alone that she began to cry.

“Jane.” His voice was firm, but she could hear raw emotion beginning to creep in. “Start from the very beginning. Why did you attack the pirate in the first place?”

“He mocked me. He told me that I couldn’t do anything without my dragon. That I couldn’t do anything but sew.” She swallowed. “My nerves were so frayed, sir, that I lost my temper, I lost control of myself. I-” she swallowed again. “There was a horrible moment where I thought something like: ‘Nobody mocks Jane Turnkey and gets away with it.’”

“I don’t know what happened, sir…”

So now she was here, being sent on a strange mission with a strange knight from another kingdom she’d only ever seen from a distance.

So be it.

The strange knight in question- Gunther Breech, she remembered- cleared his throat and brought her back to the present.

“I’m certain they did.” He said, referring to the pirates. “But could you fight someone without the assistance of your dragon?”

“Of course I can. You don’t become the first female knight in Kippernian history by wishing on stars.”

“Well, let’s see about that.” He stood and drew his own sword.

Here? Now? Of course, where else?

They backed away from the table they’d been sitting at and moved towards the center of the now-almost-completely deserted tavern. The other patrons watched in ominous silence as the duel commenced. Jane realized they might also have been in on the mission.

Jane had done almost nothing but swordfight for years, but she’d never sparred with the same person for all of them. There was a myriad of reasons for this: Kippernia’s castle was too understaffed and out of the way for numerous knights and apprentices to consider training there for too long; some male apprentices refused to train with a girl outright; some said she was so wild and out of control that only the desperate would train with her, the spreading of the rumor making it mildly true to an extent.

But Gunther’s movements were so quick, so precise, they made her wonder for a split-second if he’d somehow been there since the moment she’d first picked up a sword.

She exhaled sharply, then cleared her mind of the distracting thought and threw herself back into dueling. The sword was an extension of her limbs. She was an extension of the sword. Liquid metal dripped into her bones, up into her brain, freezing over her thoughts.

While her metallic spirit wanted to keep fighting forever, her body grew exhausted. As did Gunther’s. They finally reached a draw, both panting.

“Champion work.” She rasped to him.

He nodded mutely, struggling to catch his breath. The light of the torches illuminating the tavern reflected off of the blade of his sword and his eyes.

“I think this mission will go excellently.” Gunther breathed.

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baekhvuns · 1 year

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Hello I'm lateeeee, but I arrived

I would rather see Ateez, but well... not sure about The Rose, because someone I don't wanna see is seeing them as well aidyaygsgshshsb

Please give me the avocado tour. Baek you don't want your fanfiction moment inside the avocado? 👀

American and Korean fans are really shameless, like... fucking calm down. Omfg that person complaining about ments gor ratioed so hard, deserved, I've seen their weird tweets before. They're friends with weirdos as well. Don't go to multiple stops if you're bored of them talk??? Btw Ateez were going to Japan and I can't believe fansites showed up at 7am ON A SATURDAY to snap some photos???

Stop the step-siblings, it's not THAT kind of story 😭🤚🏻 do you know Romantic Killer? It came out recently, I remember reading the manga, but it started to bore/annoy me. I just can't remember why aisgjahshshshss but maybe I'll check out the anime. The reviews are mixed

Omggg you're right Tasir is giving Seojun? Maybe that's why I love him 👁👁 I hope he doesn't turn out bad or something cause I'm gonna kms... but what can I say, I love men with earrings lmaooo. But most of the harem guys are sus... Hold onnnn?!

Literally the WC is either "nothing's going on" or "too much is going on" I don't have a horse in this race, so I'm just gonna chill, whoever wins wins, but it would be funny if someone unpredicted won. Brazil lmao😬

I haven't watched the last 2 seasons of TVD, I just saw the ending and read the spoilers, was glad I didn't waste my time on it. It wasn't unhinged like PLL, but just... not it

Like I said, SM is doing well with their solo releases, but I gave up on their groups long time ago, minus Shinee and GG obviously. To think I used to be an SM girl yeeeears ago 💀 I also think JYPE is doing weird shit with NMIXX (and Jinni left?!) and wasting their talent, also making Itzy so mild, whyyyyy 💔

Bestie what can AUS offer... better weather shuaushsjahsha and more interesting animals (she's a zoologist). My friend used to live in Quebec, Montreal and Halifax (briefly)

Someone needs to make Yunjin a third Jung sister in a fanfiction or something. Jessica's boyfriend is weird in many ways 💀

I remember Lewis and Nicole, they were such a hot topic and together for such a loooong time!

Sometimes I feel bad about my cooking skills, but then I remember kpop idols exist

I don't know if I'm gonna try for MuBank tbh, we'll see... why Paris tho. There's MIK festival in Paris too, gotta start hating the Frenchies again

Ohhhhh the Yeohui description fits you I think!

I really liked San's blonde Wave era hair, his recent blonde a bit less tho. Also Wave Hwa <3

No this isn't MY guy, but why is he in Bridgerton all of the sudden? Uber driving on horses?

Lil farmer and a grandma 😭 ok I'm not about cottagecore life however I'm into soft Hwa, therefore I'm thinking of a baker/knitter/farmer Seonghwa very intensely right now... imagine meeting him and he's a self-sustaining king who can make scarf for you and bring you his food ☺

I got magical warrior, now that result pleases me <3333 - DV 💖

hi hello!!

I would rather see Ateez, but well... not sure about The Rose, because someone I don't wanna see is seeing them as well aidyaygsgshshsb

NAURRRRRR THE PERSON SEEING EVERYONE UR SEEING 😭😭WHAT IS THIS god rly said ur missed out and imma make sure u KNOW you did 😭😭

Please give me the avocado tour. Baek you don't want your fanfiction moment inside the avocado? 👀

unfortunately the avocado is totally submerged in wet snow atm gimme 2 weeks and ill get a whole video fhwjd,, AND 🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️

no seriously ik some ppl are justifying it but like americans and krs complain when others come to their country for a shoW but WHEN THEY CAN WE CANT SAY NOTHING 😭😭 yeah i mean wouldn’t u want ur fav artists to interact with u ???? 😭😭 they gotta breathe too one in a while pls fbwndb NO SERIOUSLY JUST DONT GO THEN?? SORRY ON A SATURDAY??? AT 7??? in this cold, going outside ur blanket is dangerous them dressing up holding their megatron’s in one way, respect but the other way what the fuck mate 😭😭😭😭

LMFAOOOO I WAS LIKE HELLO??? ANON?? WE GOOD OUT THERE?? YES I WATCHED IT ACTUALLY! did not read the manga bc some said it wasn’t that good dbdbdb,, the anime is good!! its kinda cheesy but then again its a cute romcom and serious when it needs to be, nice lil shoujo!

RIGHT IS HE NOT!! i hope he isn’t the betrayer bc id be so heartbroken, but latil seems like she’s into bad boys/villain’s, maybe we’ll still see it fbfb “i love men with earrings” BRWNDJSK WE CAN TELL THE MAIN EVIDENCE IS PSH

no bc WHAT HAPPENED 😭😭😭 the saddest losses were portugal and brazil’s (the amount of fouls in this was crazy how did the ref not check croatia 😭😭) right! whoever wins, wins in the end it was a nice run, pretty legendary games this wc <3 STOP DONT EVEN ABT BRAZIL BC I ACTUALLY WAS CRYING WHILE SOING THEIR CELEBRATION DANCE 😭😭😭😭 ITS THE COACHS FAULT and the ref was terrible 🔫🔫🤚🏼 sad bc i wont get to see richarlison play more games, i am a dedicated richarlison girl 🫡 🫡 but he’s wild pls dbdb

I haven't watched the last 2 seasons of TVD, I just saw the ending and read the spoilers, was glad I didn't waste my time on it. It wasn't unhinged like PLL, but just... not it

JDVWK I RELATE TO THAT used to be a whole sm girlie while back but after the quality decrease i am hanging on loose threads bc i need that exo cb 😭😭 NO BC WHAT IS JYP ONN!!! they understand trends later on and they do it terribly,, no bc jinni left and she also trained the longest?? what is going on,, itzy man jyp’s setting them up badly

Bestie what can AUS offer... better weather shuaushsjahsha and more interesting animals (she's a zoologist). My friend used to live in Quebec, Montreal and Halifax (briefly)

LMFAOOOO HEY HEY HEY THEY ALSO OFFER HEAT WAVES AND CRAZY WILD NEVER SEEN BEFORE ANIMALS 😭😭😭 oh bestie lived in racist town fbwndb <//3 glad she moved then 😭😭 but she must’ve had lots of fun in montreal their parties go wild! A ZOOLOGIST??? that is such a cool job omg omg

Someone needs to make Yunjin a third Jung sister in a fanfiction or something. Jessica's boyfriend is weird in many ways 💀

YOURE RIGHT !!!!! if she joined sm she would’ve been in the jung ‘vampire’ group,, no bc that man held back playback they could’ve been big! but NO MF 😭😭

I remember Lewis and Nicole, they were such a hot topic and together for such a loooong time! //// Sometimes I feel bad about my cooking skills, but then I remember kpop idols exist

no bc they did look good together 👀 LMFAOOOO YOURE RIGHT 😭😭😭

I don't know if I'm gonna try for MuBank tbh, we'll see... why Paris tho. There's MIK festival in Paris too, gotta start hating the Frenchies again

paris bc model hwa is waiting for u 🫡 FBWMDBKW START HATING THEMBFNWBD will be visiting paris sometime im gonna need u to rec some bomb itinerary 🔫

Ohhhhh the Yeohui description fits you I think! /// I really liked San's blonde Wave era hair, his recent blonde a bit less tho. Also Wave Hwa <3

oh does it??

right! his wave era hair was amazing, the colour choice fit him so well, and wave hwa no bECAUSE WE NEED THEM TO TWIN DIRTY BLOND HAIR AGAIN

No this isn't MY guy, but why is he in Bridgerton all of the sudden? Uber driving on horses?

YOU SURE MATE??? your uber went back in time! i heard he offers horse rides as a way of transportation! this entire thread is for ur beloved <3

LMFAOOOO STOP IT ITS HWALMEONI ERAA LESGOOO 😭😭😭 hwa cottage core omg, ur right, cafe, baker, artist, farmer, poet everything omg— but would u rather chose cottage core hwa or dark academia hwa

I got magical warrior, now that result pleases me <3333 - DV 💖

hello miss magical warrior, i am the dark haired aloof fbwmdb

this one is very important bc it determines if ur a true brit or not

AND HE???? 🤨🤨

also eden’s marriage! his wife is so pretty omg 😭😭

AND DBDNDB

also new tenelkadjowrites fic 👀

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

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