#lets meet at the witch assembly

[junosswans]

I got an idea that’s really old school at this point but: “let’s meet at the witch assembly” au with mustang and ed, in which Ed is an immortal witch that’s exiled from his homeland (along with Al who’s under a curse and has to be contained in a bottle like Merc from Merc Storia) and he picked up Roy who’s this abandoned bastard child of the king;

Roy begged Ed to teach him magic & Ed was like sure whatever he could use an apprentice (for him to slave around) anyways; years later Ed managed to reverse the curse on Al, helped Roy in avenging the royals that abandoned him and helped him climb the throne & Roy offered him a place in the royal academy. It’s all very cliche and stupid but a bitch needs to get her brain worm out okay

#fma #lia’s art #roy mustang #edward elric #royed #or not idc how you interpret the art #it can be romantic or platonic idgaf #fullmetal alchemist #fma fanart #fmab #let’s meet at the witch assembly #魔女集会で会いましょう #lia draws

[moremaybank]

Hello, I have an obscene imagination with Klaus, where he is creating his hybrids and she is part of the Mystic Falls gang and she is a wolf and Klaus does not turn her into a hybrid because she is his mate and he has a lot of sexual desire for her. So when he manages to seduce her, he is obsessed with filling her with his son (nik has a breeding kink) when he finally convinces her to have a relationship with him and become a hybrid, the witches kidnap her and tell her that she is pregnant(hope)

TO MAKE HER MINE — k.m

pairing klaus mikaelson x fem!reader

summary klaus comes to mystic falls to begin siring his hybrids and he crosses paths with the woman he believes to be his mate. after weeks of pining after you, and a little help from fate, he finally manages to make you his. forever.

warnings 18+, unprotected sex, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, creampie, accidental but wanted pregnancy

klaus masterlist

"Why didn't you do it, Klaus? Why didn't you kill me that night?"

She was asking a good question, Klaus thought. A great one, even. But in order to understand the answer, they would have to go back to the beginning. The moment where it all started. Where their lives were forever altered.

Senior Prank Night. It was supposed to be a night off, where Y/N and her friends could take a break from the supernatural world's drama and let go. They could act like normal teenagers, if only for a few hours. But unfortunately, fate had other plans. Its goal was to align two hearts as one. Those of Klaus Mikaelson and Y/N Y/L/N.

Klaus stood over Tyler Lockwood, his first successful hybrid. Veins had cracked underneath his eyes and he had fangs protruding from his gums. The realization had set in - Klaus was that much closer to assembling the strongest army the world had ever seen. So he turned to face his younger sister Rebekah and ordered her to fetch him the only other known werewolf residing in Mystic Falls. Y/N Y/L/N.

"Let go of me!" Y/N demanded at the blonde dragging her by the arm into the gymnasium. "Hush, love. There's no need to put up such a fight," Rebekah responded, rolling her eyes. When they reached Klaus, Rebekah tapped him on the shoulder. "Here's your next victim. I'm done with being your slave now, so I'll be outside." Rebekah walked away, and Klaus turned to the girl, their eyes meeting for the very first time. And he felt the air in his lungs leave him.

Over the years, both Klaus and Y/N had heard of wolves finding their mates. They'd been told that when one was finally introduced to their mate, it was almost as if everything had clicked. All the puzzle pieces fit together, and the picture was clear. It was as if one had found everything they'd ever desired. Craved. Longed for. Lived for. Of course, Y/N and Klaus chose to believe that those people were just downright crazy. There was no such thing as having a mate. Right?

Wrong.

Y/N stared up at the man that she was certain was going to end her human life. But as she looked into the most captivating blue eyes she'd ever seen, she didn't see a trace of malice. And she didn't fear him the way she assumed she would. Instead, she was swept into a current of a feeling she could barely decipher. Y/N looked at this truly evil, power-hungry man, and the fire was burning so fiercely between them that she was certain. This man was the one she had been destined for. And she just knew...she was screwed.

As for Klaus, he was almost speechless. Klaus thrived off of being in control. It was a bare necessity for him. He needed to be in a position of power. But as he stood in front of the woman he was sure was concocted from his dreams, he felt that power slipping right through his fingers. The threat of losing control had always left him feeling unsettled, and now that his worst fear was manifesting into reality, he was petrified.

"So uh, is this the part where you kill me? 'Cause I'd rather you make it quick," Y/N spoke, treading lightly. Her voice snapped Klaus back into reality. He could hear her heart racing, but he wasn't sure if it was due to fear, or if she was feeling even a fraction of what he was. So he smirked slightly, looking straight at her. "Actually, darling, I have other plans for you. Big plans."

In the weeks following that night, with each day that passed, Klaus and Y/N's desire for each other only grew stronger. They'd shared stolen glances at each other, had dreamt of the other in their sleep. They always seemed to be in the same place at the same exact time. And the desire and longing they felt for each other were threatening to become too much to bear. That string tied to both their hearts worked to pull them closer and closer until they simply couldn't run from fate anymore. Which had ultimately led Y/N to ask her question.

"Hello? Are you gonna answer me? Or are you gonna force me to stare at your back all night and ignore me?" Klaus took a sip of the bourbon from the glass he held in his hand, turning around to look at the entrancing woman before him. "Do you really have to ask? You know why, Y/N." Y/N scoffed, "If I knew, then I wouldn't be asking." As soon as Klaus had registered what she said, he knew he'd had enough. He was done playing whatever game this was. He wanted out.

"Don't do that. Don't act like fate hasn't been casting us in each other's paths since the night we met. The reason I didn't kill you is that I could never kill the woman I'd been destined to love for over a thousand years." Y/N's eyes were wide. Yes, she had felt everything under the sun for Klaus. But she'd never been brave enough to acknowledge it out loud. That would make it real. Solidify it. And she wasn't sure if she was ready for that.

"You aren't really buying into that 'wolf mate' crap, are you? Klaus-" Y/N began, but Klaus walked up to her, cutting her off. "Do you think I've been enjoying this? I've lost the one thing in this world that I need to survive. Control. I looked into your eyes that night at the high school, and I watched as it left me. As you took it from me," he breathed. With each step of Klaus's, Y/N mirrored his movements backwards until her back hit the wall behind her with a thump.

"What are you so afraid of?" Klaus whispered, his fiery gaze holding her's captive. "Are you afraid that this isn't real? Because we both know it is. We burn for each other, so brightly that it would blind everyone else in our wake if we chose to burn together," he spoke, stroking her cheek ever so lightly with his index finger, "but that's society's problem. not ours."

Y/N could feel her resolve beginning to wither away as she stood nearly chest-to-chest with the man who had completely taken over her thoughts in mere seconds. "It's just an illusion, Klaus. There is no fate. There's no magical bond that causes two wolves to be destined for each other. It's not real."

Yeah, that was a load of bull. Even Klaus knew that Y/N didn't believe the lies she was telling herself. "You're wrong. You are consumed by the raw passion and desire you feel for me. So much so that you're choosing to run from it. But deep down, you know that you will never be able to shake me. I've gotten under your skin, and you've gotten under mine. We cannot just simply ignore this and go on. Not without each other," Klaus spoke.

Y/N looked up at Klaus, and she knew he was right. She'd thought she'd been in love before. She'd thought she knew what it felt like to see someone and just know, beyond any doubt, that they were the person she was destined for. The one she was made for. But she was wrong. Because whatever she'd felt for the men in her past could never begin to compare to the yearning in her heart for Klaus. "You mentioned that you've lost control," she said, and Klaus nodded. "If control is what you need...then you should take it."

The two of them held eye contact, the tension growing thicker and thicker by the second. Their desire for one another was clouding all of their thoughts and their senses, and they both wanted nothing more than to drown in each other. To give in to the temptation they'd been avoiding for so long. So that's just what they did.

Klaus smashed his lips against Y/N's, his hands on her cheeks. Y/N responded immediately and she placed her hands on Klaus's chest, fisting the thin material of his henley shirt as if to pull his chest against hers. The kiss deepened, both their tongues stroking and tasting each other. Y/N moaned into the kiss when Klaus's hands slid down to her thighs, urging her to jump so that he could pick her up. She jumped, wrapping her legs around Klaus's torso as her lips continued to devour his.

Using his supernatural speed, Klaus flashed the both of them up into his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him and dropping Y/N onto the plush duvet of his bed. Y/N stared up at him with those eyes, breathless. Klaus leaned down, his lips leaving kisses on her exposed neck. Y/N thread her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck and she sighed in pleasure at Klaus's touch. It felt like Klaus was touching every single nerve on her body as his hands roamed over her, and all her senses were taken over completely by the man on top of her.

Breaking the kiss, Klaus pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor before taking hold of Y/N’s and tearing it down the middle with a harsh yank. Y/N felt a throbbing between her legs at the action, Klaus's rough nature spurring her on even more. Her jeans were the next to go. Then she sat up, helping him remove her shirt before her hands landed on his chest. Her fingers gently ran over his skin, tracing over his tattoo before taking her time to trail down to his abdomen.

Klaus grabbed Y/N's hand and placed it over the large bulge in his jeans. “Do you feel that? Do you feel how hard I am for you?" He questioned. "This is what you do to me, Y/N. This is how much I yearn for you, for your touch. You make me want to memorize and trace every inch of your body with my lips, with my tongue. You make me want to act out every desire my mind has ever conjured, and worship you like a queen. So do not doubt what I feel for you, and don’t you dare doubt what you feel for me. Not anymore."

Mesmerized by the words he spoke, Y/N nodded. Her hand found the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss her as her free hand worked on his belt buckle and zipper. Klaus unhooked her bra and discarded it before climbing out of his jeans. Towering over her frame, Klaus leaned Y/N back onto the bed, and his lips peppered kisses on his way down to her panties. His thumb smoothed over her lace-covered entrance and he felt her desire for him. "You're wet for me already. Good girl," he cooed, and Y/N moaned at his words.

Klaus used his teeth to latch onto the waistband of her panties and dragged them down slowly until they were removed from her completely. His head then came back up and his hands spread her thighs to get a good look at her core. "What a gorgeous little cunt. It's more perfect than I ever could have imagined." His tongue darted out to taste her lightly, and he let out a soft moan, "You taste heavenly, too." Before Y/N could even react, she was flipped onto her stomach, and her limbs were tied to each corner of Klaus's bedframe.

His hands smoothed up her back, "From the very moment I laid eyes on you I've wanted nothing more than to put you on your stomach, tie your hands and legs to the corners of my bed and eat your sweet little cunt until you’re begging me to stop because the pleasure is too overwhelming. And now, my sweet…I am free to do so." And with that, his lips wrapped around her sensitive clit and he began to suck harshly, swirling his tongue around it to add to the sensation.

Y/N gasped at the sudden pleasure, and she bit her lip, "Fuck, Klaus." Klaus' finger came up to tease her entrance lightly, circling it and pressing the very tip of his finger into her and gathering her slick. He plunged it inside of her, and her back arched. His tongue picked up the pace on her clit, and the sucking pressure became much more powerful. Her legs were already trembling, the coil beginning to form in the pit of her stomach.

"Let's see how quickly I can make you come with my tongue and my fingers, yeah?" Klaus questioned, but he really wasn't looking for an answer. Y/N's moans grew louder, her cries of pleasure going straight to Klaus's cock and hardening it even more than before. It twitched at the sounds she was making, and Klaus's mouth watered at the thought of being inside her. Of releasing in her, and making her his for all of eternity. No man would ever have her in this way. Not after Klaus. Never.

Klaus added his middle and ring finger, quickening the pace of his fingers and Y/N was a panting, moaning mess. "Klaus, I'm gonna come. Please don't stop," she cried. Klaus kept up his actions, and he felt her walls closing in around his fingers. Her cries grew louder as she released and her whole body felt numb.

But just because she had reached her orgasm didn't mean that Klaus was done with her. He sucked on her clit with more pressure, and his tongue was toying with her clit at an inhumane speed. "It's too much. I can't, Klaus," she begged. Pulling his mouth away from her, he leaned up to her ear as he slapped her clit and Y/N squealed. "You can and you will."

Klaus resumed his actions, and he plunged his fingers into her again. His mouth found her clit again, and Y/N swore she was losing all her senses. Her vision was gone, and she couldn't feel anything except for Klaus's mouth and fingers. She wasn't sure how the hell she was going to last when she was barely holding it together. But she also knew that there was no other place she'd rather be. No other man she'd want to touch her the way Klaus was. He was all she wanted. Forever.

That familiar coil started to build up again, and by now tears were running down her cheeks as she bit into the pillow in front of her. "Give it to me, Klaus, please. I'm so close," she sobbed. Klaus obeyed, his fingers beginning to curl into her g-spot. The overstimulation left her breathless, and she struggled to get the air into her lungs. And then his touch simply became way too much to bear.

Her juices exploded out of her, and Klaus was quick to lap it up with his tongue, groaning at the taste of her. Y/N's breathing was erratic, and she could barely move. Klaus kissed up her spine, "I want to fuck you. Can I, darling? Can I fuck you?" Klaus questioned. Y/N nodded furiously, "Please fuck me, Klaus. I want you inside me. I want to feel every inch of you."

Klaus wasted no time freeing himself from his briefs. He ran his tip through Y/N's wet folds and grinded against her clit softly. Y/N shuddered at the contact due to her sensitivity, and Klaus ran his hand down her side, gripping and guiding her hips toward his. His free hand wrapped around the base of his member, and he slowly pushed into her. Y/N gasped, and she arched her back to feel him deeper. "You're so big, daddy. You stretch me out so well," she moaned. Klaus was now balls deep, and he remained there, feeling close to her.

"Please move, Klaus," she begged. Klaus sighed as he eased back out of her, and slammed into her again. Y/N let out a small scream, and Klaus gripped her hips again as he began to thrust in and out of her mercilessly. Her ass smacked against his front and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the bedroom. "Can you hear how soaked you are, love? You're dripping all over me," Klaus grunted. Y/N babbled something incoherent, and Klaus chuckled.

Klaus fucked into Y/N with reckless abandon, and since she was tied to the corners of the bed, all she could do was lay there and let Klaus ravish her. Not that she was complaining. He was so deep inside of her that she felt him in her stomach. Tears were pouring out of her eyes, and her moans were transforming into screams. "Yes! Yes, Klaus! Right there!" She exclaimed. "You love the way I'm rutting into you, don't you? I bet you love the way I have you at my mercy, fucking you until you're a babbling, sobbing mess," he spoke through gritted teeth. Y/N nodded at his words as she cried.

"You belong to me now, is that clear?" Klaus asked, but Y/N couldn't answer. All she could do was let out a strangled noise. Klaus began to fuck her harder, pounding into her. "Answer me," he said. Y/N couldn't though, she could barely form words. His fingers found her clit, and he began slapping it in time with his thrusts. "Who's pussy is this, Y/N?" Klaus questioned sternly, and Y/N squealed. "Yours, Klaus. It's y-yours!" She yelled.

Those words went straight to his cock, and Klaus let go of the last bit of control in his grasp. "That's right, it's mine. And I have every intention of filling you to the brim with my seed. So much that I'll be inside of you for days," he grunted. His cock began to twitch, as Y/N's walls clenched around him. "I want you to come for me, Y/N. Now," he said as he continued his harsh thrusts into her. The headboard was smacking against the wall, and Klaus was sure there would be a hole when they were finished.

Y/N's walls clamped down hard on Klaus's cock, hard, and she began to scream. "I'm coming, Klaus! I'm fucking coming!" Y/N began to cream all over his member, and Klaus twitched inside of her for the last time as he shot his seed into her, filling her.

Coming down from his high, he pumped into her a few more times before pulling out of her. He untied her limbs from the bed frame and kneeled her in front of him. "Taste yourself on me," he ordered, and Y/N obeyed his command. Taking his large member into her mouth, she took him to the back of her throat, before sucking her way to the tip and swirling her tongue around so she could taste their come.

"Mm," she moaned around him. The taste was so addicting, Y/N couldn't help but begin to bob her head, sucking Klaus off. Klaus ran a hand through her hair to get a grip on her as she sucked the soul out of his cock. Klaus threw his head back as she began to bob her head faster when she felt him twitch. Saliva was dribbling down from her mouth, running down her body, and her hand came up to massage his balls.

Just as Klaus felt his orgasm building up, he pulled out of her mouth and kissed her as he laid her back and pushed his cock inside of her entrance once again. She gasped into the kiss at the sudden intrusion, and Klaus wasted no time quickening his pace so he could come inside of her again. He pulled away from the kiss and began to suck on the soft spot of Y/N's neck. "Please come inside me, daddy. please fill me up with your come again,” she encouraged, spurring him on. Her hands scratched down his back, drawing blood, and this is what pushed Klaus to release his seed into her once again.

Pulling out, Klaus pulled Y/N to his chest as he yanked the covers over them. They drifted off into sleep, and after that night, everything changed.

In the weeks that followed, Klaus and Y/N established their relationship, Y/N had turned into a hybrid to ensure that their hearts would remain as one forever. And they were now on a vacation in New Orleans, as Klaus wanted to share his favourite place in the world with the love of his life.

But something was wrong. Y/N told Klaus she would meet him at Rousseau's, but she never showed up. Klaus had called her 10 times, each one going to voicemail. He knew she was in trouble. And that fact was confirmed when a witch named Sophie approached him. "Klaus Mikaelson? I have something you're gonna want to see."

Sophie led him to the cemetery, and Klaus's eyes landed on his girlfriend. "Release her right now or I swear to you, your entire witching community will cease to exist after today." Sophie shook her head, "Not until you listen." Sophie then explained to Klaus how he and Y/N were now able to procreate, thanks to the curse being broken, and his werewolf side being embraced. Klaus tried to argue, tried to tell them all that they were insane. But then...he heard the heartbeat. "It's true, Klaus. I'm...we're pregnant."

Sophie revealed to Klaus that the witches wanted to run Marcel Gerard out of the city, and they needed his help. It took some convincing, but in the end, he agreed to aid them on their mission. Sophie and the witches let Y/N go, and she and Klaus returned to their hotel room.

"Are you sure this is okay? I mean, is this really what you want? Because it's okay if you don't. You won't lose me," Y/N said, her hand rubbing Klaus's back as they sat on the edge of the bed. He turned to look into the eyes of the woman he loved, and his expression softened. "I do, want this. I want you, and our child. Forever."

~

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries #the originals #the originals imagine #tvd universe #tvdu #joseph morgan

[shadowtriovibes]

‘til we get the healing done

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow × f!MC

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, mentions of blood and injury, explicit sexual content, fingering, unprotected PIV sex

Summary: post-hogwarts AU where reader/MC is a Healer at St. Mungo’s and Sebastian is a Gringotts Cursebreaker ✨ pretty much porn-with-little-plot, but mind the mentions of blood/injury!

“Wiggenweld ought to take care of this, for the most part,” you tell him. “You’ll probably still have a scar.”

“S’alright,” he murmurs. “You witches love wizards with scars, or so I’ve been told.”

You pointedly ignore his comment as you return to your potions cabinet to start assembling a salve.

It’s barely half past nine in the morning when one of your fellow Healers lets you know that you’ve been requested in the reception area.

“Already?” you smirk. “I haven’t even checked on the Dittany stores yet.”

“I’ll take care of it,” she says easily. “Your favorite patient is here, he’s insisting he won’t see anyone else and he’s bleeding all over the floor.”

Bleeding? Merlin.

You curse under your breath as you quickly make your way to the reception area, where a surly-looking Welcome Witch is scowling as Sebastian Sallow leans against one of fellow Cursebreakers for support. He’s drenched in blood, but mercifully he’s still standing.

“Morning, miss,” his coworker says politely. “Apologies for the mess.

You sigh wearily and wrap one arm around Sebastian’s waist so his companion can shift the deadweight of his body onto you.

“It’s not a problem,” you insist. “I can take him from here.”

“Tell them I’ll be right back,” Sebastian slurs tiredly. “She’ll fix me right up.”

“He will not be back today,” you insist sharply.

Sebastian’s coworker chuckles as he wipes his bloody palms against his pant legs. “I assumed as much. I promise, we’ll send him right home if he tries anyway.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “I sincerely appreciate it.”

The older man pats Sebastian encouragingly on the shoulder before Apparating out of the lobby, and you motion for another Healer to assist you in walking him away from the gawkers lingering in the reception area once it becomes apparent that his left leg is entirely unusable.

“Mister Sallow,” you drawl as you slowly walk him back to one of the examination rooms on the trauma floor. “What in Merlin’s name have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Classified,” he insists, but you’re sure he’s just being cheeky.

Once you arrive, you and your coworker inelegantly wrangle him onto the sturdy wooden exam table in the middle of the room. He quickly lets himself out once you assure him you’re able to tend to Sebastian alone — you’re always swamped at St. Mungo’s, and you’re sure his assistance is needed elsewhere.

Sebastian, with that ever-present smirk still on his face, manages to hold himself up even as a slow stream of blood trickles down his calf.

“It’s good to see you too, by the way,” he drawls.

You roll your eyes as you pull the exam room door shut, casually turning the lock and pulling the privacy divider across the window. If Sebastian notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You look positively dreadful,” you tell him.

It’s not untrue. He’s several shades paler than usual and there’s blood smeared all across his chest where his shirt has been sliced to ribbons, and the left leg of his trousers is in a similarly poor state.

However, even what would otherwise be a mortal injury can’t tamper his good-natured expression, nor does it cause his warm brown eyes to sparkle any less when he sheepishly meets your gaze.

“I swear, this time it was not my fault,” he begins.

“You say that every time,” you remind him. “Eventually, I’m going to stop believing you.”

He laughs and then winces, pressing a hand to the deep laceration he must still be concealing beneath his shirt, given the bloodstains.

“Go on, Seb,” you sigh. “You know what I’m going to ask you.”

“Why, are you suggesting I should take off my robes?” he asks teasingly. “A bit forward of you, mind, but I’ll abide.”

“We’re well past modesty at this point,” you remind him.

Nevertheless, you turn your back — ostensibly to prepare a tonic for him — while he undoes the buttons of his shirt and gingerly pulls the tattered remnants of it away from his bloodied skin.

He makes a pained noise when he attempts to do the same with his trousers, so you quickly turn and rest a hand on his thigh.

“Let’s get you fixed up here first,” you offer softly, gesturing to the nasty-looking gash across his ribcage. “Then we’ll get to your leg.”

“You’re sure that I won’t bleed out in the meantime?” he asks, only half joking.

“I’m positive,” you say reassuringly. “But I’ll have you slowly sip this while I take a closer look.”

You pass him the glass of tonic and nudge his free arm to the side so you can dab at his injury. You’ve become quite used to seeing blood in your line of work, but something about seeing Sebastian take slow, careful breaths as you trace your fingertips over his broken skin makes your stomach lurch.

You’ve been practicing as a Healer at St. Mungo’s for several years now, and not a month goes by without Sebastian limping (or occasionally being hauled) into the reception with some sort of bizarre injury he’d earned as a Cursebreaker at Gringotts.

At first you’d worried after him. He’d always been a brilliant student, so you weren’t quite sure how he managed to harm himself so frequently without putting his employment in jeopardy. But eventually you learned that Sebastian was, in fact, an excellent Cursebreaker.

…He just also happens to be the most reckless.

When you glance up at him to check his face for any signs of pain, you catch him staring at you.

“Drink that,” you remind him, nodding at the dark-colored liquid in his glass. “You’ll feel better.”

Carefully, Sebastian lifts the glass to his lips and takes a small sip. Immediately he makes a face.

“That’s foul,” he sputters. “What is that?! It tastes like metal.”

“It’s a tonic for blood loss,” you explain with a wry smile. “It’s packed with iron. Trust me, you’re going to need it.”

He grumbles under his breath as he takes another sip. You wait for him to swallow before you press firmly against the wound — you’ve learned the hard way that neglecting to do so would result in your being sprayed with tonic.

“Wiggenweld ought to take care of this, for the most part,” you tell him. “You’ll probably still have a scar.”

“S’alright,” he murmurs. “You witches love wizards with scars, or so I’ve been told.”

You pointedly ignore his comment as you return to your potions cabinet to start assembling a salve.

“Anything else I should know about your wounds?” you ask him over your shoulder. “Nothing venomous or toxic to be concerned about?”

“No,” he says, pausing to exhale before admitting, “It’s from a dragon.”

You nearly drop your bottle of Wiggenweld. “A dragon?!”

“See, now, I knew you would be upset when I got around to telling you,” he says with a grin that looks more like a grimace.

“What were you doing with a dragon?” you demand. “They’re not supposed to be kept anywhere near you!”

You’ve heard quite a bit about the inner workings of Gringotts since Sebastian joined the Cursebreaking department. The two of you never did seem to be able to keep secrets from each other — ever since you were teenagers, you’ve been nothing but honest, sometimes to a fault.

(…Well. You suppose if you were truly being honest, you’d tell him that you can’t stand hearing about the witches he dates whenever he pays you a visit. But you don’t like to examine precisely why that is.)

“Like I said, it wasn’t my fault,” he insists. “They brought in a young one from Romania that’s still in training and it got loose.”

You tut under your breath and mix in your highest concentration of Wiggenweld with a basic topical salve. The scent of Dittany is strong, but you know it’ll do the trick.

“Suppose I’m lucky it was a small one,” he continues. “If it had been one of the fully-grown ones they keep down below, I’d be in a box by now.”

“Hush,” you murmur distractedly. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“No?” he teases. “I suppose you wouldn’t. I’m your only friend in London, you’d be hopeless getting on without me.”

You roll your eyes and return to the exam table with your salve.

“You are not my only friend,” you argue.

“Even so, I’m still your best friend,” he replies, nonplussed. “…What have you got there?”

“This is to close the wound,” you explain. “It will sting, so I’ll count to three and then I’ll go as fast as I can, alright?”

“You’re going to go on one just like you always do,” he sighs.

“Am I getting that predictable?” you ask coyly.

“Actually, ye— Merlin’s bloody beard!”

With no warning, you scoop up a glob of salve and start to paint over Sebastian’s jagged wound, the tips of your fingers glowing a soft, cool blue as you channel a bit of your magic into the gash in his side. Before your eyes the torn skin starts to knit closed. Like you suspected, the reformed skin is pink and tender as is any new scar, but at least it looks completely healed and not at risk for reopening when Sebastian inevitably goes right back to work tomorrow.

“You’re a menace,” he grits out. “Honestly, that was cruel.”

“Come off it, you’re fine,” you tease him. “And it’s always easier if you don’t see it coming.”

“For you,” he grumbles.

You trace your fingertips over his fresh scar a few times to confirm that you’ve fully covered the would in salve. You force yourself to remain professional, but it’s extremely hard not to get distracted by how much muscle he’s built up here in his core since your days at Hogwarts.

“Let’s let that sit while I have a look at your leg,” you eventually say. “Think you can lift your hips up for me?”

Sebastian leans back on his hands and lifts himself up so you can tug his shredded trousers off, letting them fall to the floor in a bloody, rumpled pile.

(Thank Merlin he hadn’t foregone undergarments today.)

“Oh, Seb,” you murmur.

His thigh is mangled. Three long, angry-looking slashes run from below his hip to just above his knee, each still wet with blood.

“It looks worse than it feels,” he says under his breath.

You sigh and reach for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Drink the rest of your tonic and I’ll patch you up,” you tell him. “…I’m glad you came to me. This is beyond what a typical Healer is equipped for, Sebastian.”

“I know,” he admits. “But you’re the only witch I’ll see regardless.”

You blush a bit and turn away, reaching for your pot of salve.

The two of you are both quiet while you work. Sebastian occasionally bites back a curse or a low groan while you work the salve into his wounds, forcing himself to chug the rest of his regenerative drink.

(…You feel horrifically guilty for how your body is reacting to his sounds.)

“How are you feeling?” you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It aches,” he tells you transparently. “But — but like it’s healing, not like it’s getting worse.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to feel, unfortunately,” you explain. “Even healing comes with its own set of aches.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware of that,” he mumbles. “Honestly, it reminds me of how I felt when Violet and I ended our courtship.”

“O-oh?” you stutter.

“Well, I suppose she’s the one who ended it,” he says with a wry grin. “She said she was sick and tired of me showing up on her doorstep with a new injury each week. I don’t blame her one bit.”

“Seb, that’s horrible,” you coo. “How heartless.”

You’re just finishing up applying salve to the last few centimeters of his wound when Sebastian gently tips your chin up so you’ll meet his gaze.

“Do you want to know what else she said to me?” he asks softly.

You swallow nervously and whisper, “What?”

“She said that it’s pathetic that I keep offering to put myself in harm’s way on the offchance I’ll get to visit my Healer,” he tells you.

His gaze dips down your mouth and you inhale sharply as he drags his thumb across your lower lip.

“That’s — that’s not true, is it?” you whimper.

“Of course it’s true,” he confesses. “The thought always crosses my mind. Whenever I offer to take a crack at opening a surrendered vault or unraveling a protective jinx on one of the new deposit boxes, I always think, ‘If I’m hurt, at least I’ll get to see you.’”

Suddenly you feel like you’re the one who’s lost several pints of blood — dizzy, flushed, not quite sure if you’re imagining all this or not.

“Sebastian,” you murmur. “…You have to promise me you’ll stop.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he admits earnestly, tilting his hand to gently cup your face and coax you into leaning closer. “It’s all I can think about anymore — the next time I get to see you, and feel your hands on me.”

Instinctively you reach out your hands to steady yourself, propping yourself up against the tops of his thighs.

“S-sorry,” you quickly stammer. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” he breathes. “Just… come closer.”

He cups both hands around your jaw to bring your face to his, gently pressing his lips against yours.

“Seb,” you breathe against his mouth.

“We should’ve done this so long ago,” he murmurs. “Please, love. Say you feel the same way.”

“I… Sebastian, of course I do, but—”

He hauls you against his chest before you can even steady yourself. You’re thankful your work on his wounds seems to be holding steady as you shamelessly climb into his lap, testing the support limits of the wooden examination table.

“Let me touch you,” he whines against your mouth. “I need it, I need to feel you.”

All this time, it’s always been your hands on him — pressing closed his wounds, extracting nauseating curses and beastly venom from his body, infusing your unique magic with traditional Healing techniques to restore him to himself.

Now he’s begging to put his hands on you, and you find yourself powerless to resist.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Anywhere, just — touch me.”

He desperately tugs on your unflattering lime green robes until they fall to the floor until you’re left with just your fitted blouse and skirt. As far as propriety goes, you’ve never been this underdressed in one of your exam rooms.

“Take this off,” he growls, bunching up a handful of your blouse in his fist.

“We — we shouldn’t do this here,” you weakly protest.

“No one’s going to come in,” Sebastian counters. “We have all the privacy we need.”

(Damn him, now you’re positive that he’d seen you lock the door.)

“I — I shouldn’t,” you whisper.

Sebastian leans in and presses his teeth against your neck.

“How long have we already made ourselves wait?” he reminds you in a low voice. “I could’ve died today and we never would have had the chance.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine. “You’ve been hauled into St. Mungo’s on death’s door a dozen times, it doesn’t mean we should have sex at my place of work.”

“Love,” he croons, and you feel all your resolve melt away.

With a frustrated groan, you hastily tug your blouse free from your skirt and wrestle with the buttons while Sebastian unhelpfully runs his hands all across your body.

Once you’re rid of your shirt, you tug your skirt up so he can slide a hand between your thighs.

“Gods, yes,” he moans. “This is what I’ve been wanting, darling. I needed to feel you right here.”

You whimper softly as he grinds the heel of his palm against your aching core.

“Can I go inside?” he asks softly, and you aren’t sure if he’s merely asking to move your panties aside or if he’s suggesting something more, but either way the answer is a fervent yes.

With one deft hand he tugs the soaked fabric between your thighs to one side and traces two fingertips along your slit. You’re scandalously wet already, just from his ardent confession and his eager hands on your body.

Then Sebastian easily presses those two fingers inside you and you hunch in toward him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“That’s it,” he whispers in your ear. “How does that feel?”

“G-good,” you stutter.

“Just good, hmm?” he inquires. “Should I give you more, then? I need you to feel great.”

It’s no surprise that Sebastian would be a skilled lover, but what really has you trembling in need in his lap is how clearly he wants to make you feel loved, and not just serviced himself.

You can tell that this gets him off; that tonic of yours has certainly done its job, if the rigid hardness between his thighs is any indication.

“I w-want you,” you manage to force out. “Quickly, I just — I don’t care if it’s rushed, I need you inside.”

Sebastian curses against the hinge of your jaw and carefully extracts his hand from between your thighs so he can pull his cock out of his undergarments, stroking himself with his still-wet hand.

“Like this?” he asks you. “I don’t know if I’ve got the energy for much else.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Just… let me.”

Now that you can properly see him, you realize he’s, er, gifted, and he’ll be a lot to take in this position. But you want him, you want to make him feel good just as badly as he wants the same for you, so you steady yourself as best as you can on your knees as you hover over him. With one hand you keep your panties pulled to the side and your skirt tucked away, and with the other you hold him steady as you sink down.

“Gods,” you whine. “I — I can barely…”

It’s nearly impossible to get the leverage you need on a table this narrow. As you take him in, you feel driven through, practically impaled by him as you cling desperately to his shoulders.

“Go on,” he grunts. “Take me, love, you can.”

“I can’t,” you nearly sob.

But then you realize you’ve done it. The insides of your thighs are flush with the tops of his, the remaining traces of salve on his skin making it all too easy for you to grind forward until you’re completely seated on top of him.

“That’s it,” he groans. “You’ve got it, you’ve taken me so well.”

It’s shameful how little praise from Sebastian makes you squirm and keen in his lap like a simpering fool.

He leans in close to your ear and asks you, “Do you think you can ride me?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper. “Yes, I want to.”

As soon as you start to move, the filthily wet sounds of your skin smacking against his makes you blush all the way down to your chest. It’s lewd and raunchy in a way you’ve never felt with any man with whom you’ve been intimate.

(Those men weren’t Sebastian, you think helplessly.)

“Fuck,” Sebastian growls in your ear. “Don’t stop, please, love.”

There’s absolutely nothing that would stop you now, you think. The Minister of Magic himself could come in and fire you on the spot and it simply wouldn’t matter. You feel incredible — it’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this, and never by a man who you’ve truly loved like Sebastian.

He seems similarly overwhelmed, his hands mindlessly traveling over your waist, your breasts, and even up to your face so he can pull you down and messily kiss you into delirium.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please, please…”

“What?” he pants. “Anything, love, tell me.”

“Touch me,” you plead, and then his hand is between your legs right where you need it. His thumb grinds against that sensitive spot that brings you to the edge, over and over in tight, determined circles until you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to dampen the desperate sounds you let out as you climax.

“Perfect,” he breathes. “That’s — you’re perfect, fuck.”

Sebastian’s undoubtedly weakened and exhausted, but he nevertheless manages to find the energy to grind up into your wrung-out, languid body until he finds his release. He stays buried inside you afterward, fighting through his sensitivity to keep you close and murmur soft words of praise into your hair.

When you finally summon the strength to climb off of him and tug your skirt back into place, you mumble, “We cannot let this happen again.”

“Just at St. Mungo’s, right?” he asks with a suggestive smirk. “Because I, for one, would very much like it to happen again.”

You say nothing as you button up your shirt, but you eventually allow yourself to be pulled into a slow, fervent kiss that lets him know he’ll be getting his way.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #healer au #cursebreaker au #formatting this was a NIGHTMARE bc i only have my phone with me #pray for me also it’s obviously extremely unbeta’d so i hope it’s coherent #my fic

[fanaticsnail]

Sapsorrow Chapter 9

Masterlist Here, Sapsorrow Masterlist Here

Word Count: 9,000+

"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it"

Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.

Warning: MDNI, 18+, smut, making love, husband and wife, bondage, blindfolds, marriage, gendered terms, love, romance, supernatural themes.

Notes: Here it is, the beloved sun-dress chapter that I have been carving out over the past month while practicing in between. You can see how I had to take a short break as my favoritism for Benn Beckman shone through. I wrote him his chaptered fic just after I finished the first section of this one - completely unrelated to this plot and story. I hope you enjoy this chapter, one more to go before the story is completed and the spinoffs begin! Love you all.

Song Suggestion: 'Til the light goes out - Lindsay Stirling

Rough and calloused fingertips brushed against your upper arms, causing you to unconsciously flinch away from their touch. Your breath hitched, your vulnerability heightened by the addition of a blindfold securing your eyelids tightly shut. The coarse digits were warm against your rapidly cooling skin, the dynamic of the silken ropes only adding to your intrigue and anticipation as the woven fibers began clutching to your body. 

“Easy now, my Lady,” the rumbled voice of Shanks’ first mate reassured you, tapping your forearms as an attempt to sooth you, “I’ve got you, alright? No harm, nor an unwarranted touch will come to you by my hands.”

Benn Beckman, the first-mate to the ‘red haired rat’, you affectionately associated him with, was ever the gentleman towards you. As you undressed moments prior, the larger man turned his back and began laying out the materials over Mihawk’s bare desk that he was about to weave around your body and assembled them with practice and precision. 

Wordlessly, you thanked the clown for burning off the heavier materials of your starlit gown. The remaining fabric managed to fall away from your body with ease, the garment pooling in a soft pile at your feet. As you stood in naught but the body you were born into, you shrouded yourself with your arms to grant yourself further privacy from your old friend. 

“My lady?” the gruff call of Beckman behind you called to you, “Are you ready for us to begin?” The hum in his tone did little to comfort you as your skin pricked under the cool air of the night. A soft ruffling sound had you beer over his shoulder at the older gentleman.

His hand circled the back of his silvery hair, tying it behind his head by the elastic of a small piece of leather. Layers of his hair managed to escape the tie and fall into his eyes, prompting him to huff a curt growl at himself. As you continued to remain unresponsive verbally to him, he sighed out a deep breath before drawing up the torn cotton fabric to conceal his eyes. 

“Lady Dracule, my eyes are now covered,” he commented in a soft and even tone, “I assure you, you have my word, your honor will remain intact with me at the helm here.” His hands softly began searching for the variety of materials that lay before him over the desk, fingers first meeting with a sheer piece of transparent gold, “I would never betray your trust, especially after all our time together.”

Walking towards the older gentleman, he held up his left hand in a manner to halt your descent towards him. You stuttered in your step and froze in place, heeding to his direction. 

“Eye covering on now, my lady,” he warned you, a small smile was almost depicted in his tone, “Don’t wanna risk anything, alright? Let’s not give the witch any leeway.”

And now, as his hands drew themselves up over your body, you could only deduce what he was placing over your skin. The material felt almost warm, you likened the fact by how firmly your old friend was clutching it in his hands before he placed it over your body. 

Silks drew themselves over your shoulders beneath his hands, his digits not lingering for a moment past its required need to be present. The cologne and nicotine smoke fragrance washing over you from the man behind you did nothing to calm your nerves, especially considering his hands were now hovering over your breasts.

“This next step is going to be rather intimate, my lady,” he informed you, his tone steady and informative. You nodded, the brush of your hair indicating your readiness by its brush against Beckman’s cheek behind you. A small huff of air exhaled through Beckman’s nose, something almost akin to a laugh following. 

“You know, you can talk to me,” he chuckled, his hands maneuvering woven bars of metallic thread between the chasms of your breasts, “Might make it less awkward for the both of us?” Your eyes fluttered wide beneath the mask as you realized you were yet to speak a single word to the man so intimately placed behind you. 

“I’m sorry, Beckman,” you apologized to the gray-haired first mate as his hands clasped around your midsection, “It almost escaped my mind that this experience would be more awkward for you than it is for me.” 

A gruff chuckle rumbled behind your back, his right hand circling your right wrist as he wove himself around your body to collect more materials from the desk. A shift in fabric scraping against the writing desk had your ears prick up.

“We’ll keep it light, alright? Let’s think about the old days,” his body moved in front of yours, left hand reaching for your collarbone while more chains of metal found its way atop your sternum, “Remember the first time all of us met?” 

You giggled out a small laugh at the memory, a laugh reflected in the deep chuckle of Benn Beckman. His fingers grazed over your stomach, the soft shift in fabric over your hips and fastened itself at your midsection by the wrapping of ropes across your naval. 

“I think that was when Shanks just dropped his trousers in front of one of my blushing debutantes: belt pooling at his ankles,” your giggle rose alongside your smile, “Had to chase him out with a broom, from memory. I can still see the panic in his eyes and the stumble in his step.” 

“Thankfully he managed to get the pants over his hips and fastened before he got to the Red-Force,” he chuckled with you, weaving ropes once more between your breasts and down your back, “Otherwise he would not have heard the end of it from me, that I can assure you.”

“Oh, and where were you, Beckman?” you quipped back at him, your smile now toothy and warm, “If my memory serves correct, you were attempting to woo the handmaiden to the lady of the house!”

“Attempting, my lady?” Beckman taunted back, his warm hands clapping over your hips to steady you, “Succeeding, I think you mean.” 

“Rascal,” you teased him, hissing over the ‘S’ with a chittering laugh. 

“Reformed rascal,” he confessed to you, his hands moving over your thighs, “I am a changed man these days,” his hands dipped between your legs and began tying several complex knots between the parting of your bare legs. “Keeping Shanks out of trouble is all I have time for, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh?” you prompted him with a quirk of your shrouded brow, “He never seems to stop, does he? Something needs to tame him, settle him down so you can get some semblance of peace.”

“Oh, I’ve been awaiting the day, my lady,” he confessed with a small chuckle, “I do need a holiday.” His hands began slowing their movement to focus on more intentional knot-work over your hips.

“I hear the new lady of Kuraigana is kind,” you comment with a smirk in your tone, “She may offer you a holiday, should you desire it, Mister Benn.” 

“Will she be providing ‘captain-sittin’ duty too?” he huffed with a snicker in his tone, “And it’s ‘Mister Benn,’ now is it? What happened to ‘Beckman,’ hm?”

“I’m sure she could be persuaded to watch over the rodent for a day or two,” you continued your teasing rapport with him, “And of course it’s ‘Mister Benn’,” you blindly seek out his right hand with your left, offering a gentle squeeze once you found it, “You’re doing so much for me, you deserve more of a title than a simple ‘Mister’. I’d knight you, if I had the ability to do so.”

His right hand gave you a soft squeeze in return before releasing your digits from his grasp. He cleared his throat with a soft cough, his fingertips fastening a soft knot by your knee. 

“I appreciate the gesture of knighthood, my lady,” he confessed, reaching for your adjacent knee and began fastening several intricate strands over your legs, “You have always been so kind to me. To all of us, really.” His hands cup your knee, reaching behind your thigh to grasp at a strand of gold that slipped his fingers, “Your husband is lucky to find a wife in a woman like you.” 

“Thank you for saying so, Sir Beckman,” you chuckled in response, “Loyal guardian and fierce protector of the Red-Force crew, a knight and friend to the new Lady Dracule of Kuraigana.” His chuckle huffed through his nose at your declaration. 

“Alright, my lady. I’ll play the role of knight for you,” his hands tugged at two ends of the golden fabric firmly, “This next part may feel a little unusual coming from my hands. Only two more knots to go before I’m done: these two are probably the most involved of the lot of them.” 

“Beckman, all of this is feeling rather involved- oh!” You shrieked a strangled gasp as he tugged firmly on the golden strands between your legs, the material hoisting over your thighs to firmly secure at your pelvis. A blush rose to litter your cheeks with a warmth you were not anticipating, Beckman’s hands hastily pulling away from touching your body in reaction to your surprise. 

“Nearly done, my lady,” he reassured you with an even tone, “Then you’ll be in the safety of the hands of your husband, and I’ll be out of your personal space. Cross my heart, alright?” Your breath hitched as his hands began hastily concluding a flourish of gestures. 

As your body began to experience a new sensation between your legs, Beckman tightened several strands over your chest which caused your breath to hitch further. Your eyes tightly scrunched shut as the material began grinding over your erogenous zones, prompting you to bite your lip to halt further sounds exiting your body. 

“One more knot, then Mihawk will be here,” Beckman reassured you with a small, tightlipped smile you would not see, “I’ll be out of your way and drinking with the rest of them in no time, my lady. It’ll be all a distant memory soon enough.” You nodded, a notion that Beckman would not see but only guess due to the shift in fabric. 

“I trust you, Sir Beckman,” you whisper, feeling the intentional and hasty way his fingers coil the fabric around your body in a finite weave. 

“Thank you, Lady Dracule,” he whispers in return, his hands securing the final strands of fabric behind your back from his position standing in front of you, “Your dress, as radiant as the sun that ignites the day in the flood of its warm light, is now completed.”

You both released a sigh of relief before joining together in a fit of huffed laughter. Beckman’s right hand found your left as he began brushing his left hand alongside the furniture to lead you throughout the room. 

“It’s almost a shame I cannot see how hard you worked, Beckman,” your comment eased its way out of your throat as your knees knocked against the mattress of the bed.

“Aye, that it is, my lady,” he admitted, ushering you to recline against the backboard of the large bed, “But Mihawk can.” 

Your cheeks flooded with a darkened heat of blush, your body aware of every sensation it was experiencing beneath the depravity of your eye sight. You felt Beckman’s hands beside your head, tugging and rearranging several plush pillows to cradle your body securely atop them. Heart swelling at the further gesture of friendship, your smile floated once again over your lips.

“You’re always so caring and compassionate, Beckman,” you compliment him with a softened smile in your tone, “We both owe you more than a single favor.” 

A single hum of confirmation was all the sound that escaped him before bidding you a curt: “This is where I leave you. Good luck, my lady.”

Hearing the thud of heavy boots descend away from your side, and the small open and shut of the door. No sounds indicated anything aside from your solitude. Your breathing was heavy and fuelled by anxiety and anticipation of what is to come. 

-

As the door clicked behind Beckman, he rolled his head back on his shoulders and shook his body to rid itself of the prior strenuous art he tied onto your body. He reached up, his fingers brushing with the blindfold and began untying the material under the new safety of the door. As the woven fabric dropped down his face, a small cough appeared reclined against the door beside him.

Lord Dracule Mihawk was glaring his amber eyes beneath the shroud of his broad hat, arms crossed over his chest and lips pursed in a soft snarl. Beckman sighed, rolling the material of the blindfold over in a soft circle in the palm of his hand. 

“You been here the whole time, Hawk?” Beckman asked him with a soft smirk curling at the left hand corner of his lip, “Would’ve thought you’d enjoy a few more drinks by the fire with your company.”

“And leave my wife naked in a room on our wedding night with another man? Hardly a likely scenario,” he confessed with a dark laugh. 

“I would never do anything to place a mark to her name, Mihawk,” Beckman immediately retorted, glaring his silvery eyes at the broody lord of Kuraigana. Mihawk elevated his hands defensively, pushing himself away from the wall and extending a bottle of hard liquor from behind his back to Benn Beckman.

“I know you would do no such thing,” Mihawk smirked, narrowing his eyes briefly before offering the bottle to Beckman, “And, for what it’s worth to you,” he leant in closer, passing the bottle into the taller man’s hands with a nod of his head, “I agree with the lady of Kuraigana.”

“In what regard?” Beckman elevated his eyebrow alongside his question. Mihawk’s smirk morphed into a rare smile, a smile that was becoming less rare in the days as long as he had you by his side. 

“You deserve more than a simple holiday,” he nodded in confirmation, “And you deserve far more than any mere knighthood, if you’ve managed to complete this task to its entirety.” Mihawk turned his back, making his way to the door and halting as his fingertips brushed with the brass door handle.

“I appreciate the whiskey,” Beckman smiled, reaching into his breast pocket of his patterned shirt and elevated his cigarette to his lips, “And your compliments, Mihawk. You’re a lucky man to land one hell of a woman.”

“That we can also agree on,” Mihawk smirked, halting his opening of the door and waiting for Beckman to begin his walk away from the room before clicking his thumb over the door handle. ‘

-

A soft click, several intentional footsteps and a gasp of breath being sucked in through quivering lips were all the sounds that caused your ears to prick at the corners. Swatting at the mattress beside you, you began rising from your comfortable recline against the bed. 

“Mihawk?” you whispered your call for him, “Mihawk, is that you?” 

The lord of Kuraigana, the current title holder of the worlds greatest swordsman, and the man who had only hours prior been dancing in merriment with his new bride in her two dresses that captured his attention now found himself rendered speechless. A man who always had a quip and retort, a man who purred with the energy of a poised panther waiting to pounce on a meek prey, a man who always had the last word in every conversation was completely, and totally, speechless. 

“Mihawk?” you whispered once again, your panic becoming adamant in your tone, “My love, are you there? Please, if it’s you, let me know you’re-.”

“-I’m here, my beloved,” he whispered, his body immediately drawing itself closer to you. He sunk his body down atop the mattress beside you and his fingertips immediately began hovering over the intricate knots, divots and sheer fabric cascading down your body in its recline against the bed. 

He was a man lost, an adventurer found within uncharted territory with no map to guide him. A sailor with no north star to point him towards home. The more he dwelled on the thought of being lost to his emotions, the more he felt like you were the home awaiting his arrival. As his fingers began their hasty descent over your body, the scandalous material covering barely an inch of your revealed flesh, he halted their descent. 

“My darling?” his voice quivered, his hands stuttering over your chest as his eyes hovered over the mounds of your breasts, “My love, may I touch you?” His eyes were yet to draw themselves up to meet with your face, too enchanted in a trance by the scandalous ties and ribbons Beckman had tied over your body moments prior. Too busy with the artistry Beckman had woven into your skin to notice the broad smile that rose over your cheeks.

As you rose to sit up, hands extended and reaching for your husband, you suddenly realized the intricate knotwork being woven against your sensitive flesh. As you elevated your body to reach for Mihawk, you gasped as an intentional knot of rope ground itself against your lower abdomen, causing sensations to heighten at the crude grind against your bare flesh. 

Hands finally meeting with your husband’s cool digits, you felt the subtle tremor in his motions: anticipation at the next stage of the night commencing. A loud cheer from the crowd gathered outside broke you away from your thoughts as a smile drew up over your cheeks. His fingers interlaced with both of yours, his clothed body pressing itself against your own as you felt his breath tickle your lips. 

“It seems they have taken their role in this very seriously, husband,” you allowed a soft laugh to rise in your voice. You felt Mihawk’s breath shift, a sharp exhale through his nose indicating his smile had risen to his cheeks. You unlaced your hand from within his, reaching blindly to his face to press against his whiskered cheek. 

“I would expect nothing less of the crews of the Red-Force, Big-Top, and our wards, wife,” he leaned into your hand, pressing his lips against your palm. Although your eyes were shrouded, you could feel the expression atop Mihawk’s face. His smile, the soft flutter of his lengthy, black eyelashes, and the soft scrunch of his nose had your lips fall back to reveal your teeth in your own smile. 

He sighed, pressing his hand against the one clutching his cheek and closing his eyes as he took a deep inhale of your perfume. Lingering in the moment, he reopened his eyes to view the shroud covering yours from being able to see him. His annoyance wrote itself on his face, his expression change being tangibly felt beneath your hand.

“My love, is something the matter?” you asked him, unlacing your other hand from within his fingers and cradling his face to seek out more of his expression. He scoffed, raising his hand to cover yours and press your right hand against his neck, while your left remained cradling his cheek. 

“Is it so wrong of me to want to enjoy my wife’s eyes when I intend on making love to her?” he whispered, looking down at your body for a moment before focussing on your face once more, “You are so beautiful,” he complimented you, inching his body closer, “I wish you could bare witness to your radiance.” 

“You flatter me, my lord,” you smiled at him, elevating your body to draw closer to him, “I am glad this composition pleases you-.”

“-Why did you ask for such a piece?” Mihawk growled at you, pressing a chaste kiss against your hand before lifting it off his cheek to join the other on his neck, “You knew you would never see it, why ask for it?” You took a moment to think on it, cocking your head to the side and angling your face away from his. 

“I suppose,” you began, pursing your lips a little with your brows furrowed, “Not only did I want the task to be unachievable,” you inched yourself ever closer, “But, should this task be truly met, I wanted something for only you to enjoy, my husband.” His breath was taken from him, the revelation causing his heart to swell with pride. He tugged at your body, pulling you from your position sitting and coaxing you away from the bed.

“Would you indulge me further?” he asked, stepping up from the bed with you to have you rise to your feet, “If this was intended for me to see, I desire to see it in its entirety, my lady.” You shook your head, biting back your smile as you allowed him to usher you to your feet. Before you had an opportunity to chastise him for using that soft title, he spoke over you.

“I know what you would say,” he held your right hand to allow you a semblance of an inkling as to where he was in the room, “For me not to refer to you as ‘my lady’.” He dropped your hand, his hand caressing your forearm and raising it to your shoulder.

“You assume correct,” you scoffed, turning your head beneath your shroud to point your face towards him.

“Ah, but here is where you remain misguided,” he traced his fingertips over your shoulder towards your spine. “You are my lady,” he whispered, the tingle of his breath on your neck caused your body to ignite with gooseflesh, “And you will forever be my lady,” he pressed a small kiss against the tip of your spine, below your hair. “My lady,” he withdrew his lips from your body, admiring your form beneath the strands of gold fabric, “You are mine, as much as I am yours.”

“I am yours,” you whispered, giving in to the desire for him that began pooling at the pit of your stomach in anticipation, “And you are mine.” He circled your body, his hands finding yours in front of you and intertwining them within his. Stepping in closer, his body heat radiated from his open shirt and buzzed against your own exposed flesh. 

“May I kiss you, Lady Dracule?” he whispered, your body immediately responding to your new title by melting away your inhibitions and anchoring your chin up to search for him. Your body flooded with emotion, truly feeling this new title that he gave to you at this very moment. You were his wife, the lady of the high keep of Kuraigana, the bride of the Worlds Greatest Swordsman, and former warlord of the seas. You were truly his, beneath the shroud of his familial name and within this new role as woman of the house. 

“Lord Dracule,” you sighed, feeling his aura closing in on your face, “I want nothing more than to share this moment with you.” Mihawk was forever grateful that your eyes were shrouded from his expression. He was not one to ever experience weakness, always remaining hard in the eyes of his enemies. Although you were not an enemy to him, he took the shroud against your eyes to allow himself to express pure, unbridled, and unrefined emotions for the first time since childhood.

He was so, desperately, in love with you. This moment, seeing the willingness in your body and the love in your smile was more than enough to cause his own resolve to weaken with his knees. The love you gave, the expression so freely given to him, was something unlike anything he had experienced prior. He had had women in his past, surely, but this was something else.

The love he felt ignited in his chest, the passion he felt flooded within his veins, and the emotion he felt swell within his eyes was enough to cause him to step forward and slowly draw his face down to meet with yours. Your breath was stolen from you as you felt his whiskered lips brush with your own. The soft scratch of his silken beard tingled against your chin, the broad hat brushing with your hair now completely loosened and untamed. 

Mihawk’s hands unwove from yours, his lips unbreaking their contact from massaging and layering intentional motions against your flesh. A shudder against your skin, and a rustle of fabrics descending from his chest, had your smile draw itself further up your face. Your hands sought out Mihawk’s shoulders, your fingers meeting with bare skin where once his pale shirt was covering. 

A strong left hand met with your right cheek, tugging and caressing your skin as he deepened the kiss. A sigh escaped your lips as his tongue drew patterns of longing against your bottom lip, grinding against yours as you opened your lips to meet him. His left hand ventured over your shoulders, mapping the skin carefully wrapped in intricate loops of gold fabrics and fibers. 

“Mihawk,” you gasped as soon as his lips left yours, his face nuzzling against your cheek and neck. His lips grazed, kissed and lightly bit at your skin as his fingers dipped into the golden fibers. He murmured your name, his familial name before uttering it prompted your heart to swell and soar in your chest. 

“I missed you so much, my lady,” he confessed into your neck, his lips withdrawing from your neck and finding your cheek once again, “I know it has only been a few minutes since Benn stole you from me, but it has felt like an eternity since I held my beautiful governess like this.” His hands pluck and prod at the knots over your body, his growing frustration evident on the rough huffs of his breath for each moment you remain confined in the ropes. 

“Your wife, Mihawk,” you remind him, hands blindly reaching for his face. Once you found his cheeks, you hastily drew his face to meet with yours, “I am your wife.” Your desperation to welcome him into your affectionate embrace has you move from your place beneath his stooped body to climb over to him. He ushered you towards him, your mind choosing to let him play guide for you to move about willingly. 

“My wife,” he whispered back to you, his hand ghosting intimate caresses over your body to guide you closer onto him. Shin brushing with the bare flesh of his leg, your anticipation only grew as you straddled his lap; him now sitting against the plush bed of his quarters. Hands exploring his shoulders, down his torso, and over his arms and stomach: you blindly began studying him. Your fingertips read him like elevated embroidery over a broad canvas, committing the poetry he was born with, and was painted against him within the art of war. 

His hands cupped your thighs, head angled up to press kisses of longing against your lips. A gentle tug of your thighs prompted you to sit atop him, anchoring your full weight over his lap. As you began to sit on him, the ropes began to constrict and tighten around your abdomen. The tied knots brushed against your groin, a strangled whimper falling from your lips as you felt Mihawk’s erect and quivering cock brush against your naval. 

“I need to get this off of you,” Mihawk groaned against your lips, “Beckman did too good of a job. I can’t find any slip knots to release you.” He continued to trail your knots, ties and bonds trapping you within the fabric. Your mind momentarily ceased its recollection of such a plight, but now that Mihawk had begun initiating the next installment of your evening together, you had never wanted to witness something before your eyes more. You wanted to see your husband, and he wanted to see your eyes gazing at him.

“It is rather constricting,” you admit, your lips seeking out his neck as his hands wrap around your back. His hands begin tugging at the knots harshly, you whimper into his neck as this tug had the ropes grind over your lower body. He halted his tugging, his breath hitching and his staggered movements. 

The passion between you ignited further, his desperate kisses pressing lengthy and staggered motions against you. He ceased his attempts at withdrawing the material away from you, choosing to focus on the feeling of finally having his wife within his arms. You were perfect; everything about you was perfect to him. Where once was a uniform made for servitude, now lay a design so provocative and sensual that a goddess would even blush viewing it. Yet, here you were: wearing it as if it was made for you and only you. 

Mihawk was in love, some foreign emotion he never thought he would ever experience. As he looked up at your form, he took a moment to gawk at you. He had never seen a beauty of such radiance, a woman that so perfectly held his heart within their hands. 

His excitement was depicted by the rush of blood to swell his cock, and he wanted nothing more than to see your body in return. He didn’t only want to see your bare flesh unshrouded, but he wanted to see your eyes. The eyes he fell in love with. The stern eyes that held him hostage from the moment you first reprimanded Zoro at the doorway of his manor. 

“I am-...” Mihawk’s voice lost itself in his voice, his fingertips returning to you and tugging on the strands once more. The material ground itself higher in your abdomen, the material causing pleasure to seep against your clit. Your gasp was the greatest serenade he had ever graced his ears, his mind finally realizing how truly at his mercy you were in the knots, “...-I am going to cut the damn thing off you.” His confession had you swoon, sensing his desperation for you in his confession. 

A small shriek of shock flung from your parted lips as Mihawk all but threw you against the mattress beneath him. As he watched you writhe beneath him, he began to feel frustrated at not being able to see all of you at once. Teeth bit at your neck, lips sucked your pulse and his firm, covered cock ground against your body: a moan fleeing from his lips at this subtle touch. Caging you beneath him, he examined your body: focussing his gaze on each band of gold woven over your form. The sheer fabric did nothing to disguise each curve, the ties and knots accentuating your femininity in a manner so sinful: the moment his eyes met with your body, he was consumed with the flames of lust he had never encountered prior.

Although he had lain with other individuals in his lengthy crusade of piracy and swordsmanship, his mind was never as challenged as it was with you. His soul never felt the need to join with another in this way. He was perfectly content to remain in solitude, continuing to hold the title of ‘World's Greatest Swordsman’ and live alone until it was time for the next generation to claim that title from him. 

Then he met you. 

His confidant turned governess, his governess turned betrothed, his betrothed turned wife: his wife, lying beneath him enwrapped in bands of gold so scandalous and erotic - he was entranced by the lustful emotions plaguing him. 

“My darling, I want to gaze into your eyes when I make love to you,” he confessed in a breathy whisper, “You deserve far better than to be kept beneath the shroud of darkness for our first time joining our bodies together.” You smiled up at him, your chin angling to collect his lips within yours. The same desperation flooded your veins, the pleasure you anticipated to give and receive to and from your husband finally catching up to you. 

The carnal desire to have one another finally caused your mind and body to catch up at once. The confinements within the gold fabric had begun to illuminate, the metal feeling warm and pleasurable against your body. In one final attempt at reinforcing the fact that you wanted this, you collected his face beneath your hands and refocused his attention. 

“There will be other times,” you whisper, your hands traveling to his back as he continues to grind his hips against your thighs, “For now, I just need to feel you here with me.” At that confession, a primal urge swept through Mihawk’s body. His hands moved with a mind of his own. He fled from your embrace, your momentary confused sorrow at his departure was eclipsed by shock at Mihawk’s arms hooking beneath your thighs and prying apart your legs. 

“If you are certain this is what you want,” Mihawk’s panting breath managed to utter. His lips hovered over your skin, tracing the curvature of your cheeks and down your neck. “I want this to be good for you. I want you to experience this the way you truly deserve it,” he kissed your cheek to press in his desires, “I want this to be something you want.”

“I want you, my love,” you confessed in a breathy voice, dripping with desire, “I only want you.” He allowed a melancholy smile to rise to his cheeks, feeling his own desire truly catch up with him at this very moment. His eyes traveled down to your body: your breasts hugged beneath the fabric of the gold, the sinful knots and ties over your stomach - he took in every element before he truly gave in to his own desires. 

“So be it, my love,” were all the utterances he whispered at you before he dove his face between your legs. The knots, ties and woven fibers added an additional layer of friction to Mihawk’s needy tongue lapping at your aroused core. His hands held you firmly, completely exposed to his abrasive and hungry momentum. 

Tongue, lips and teeth greedily consumed your arousal like a beast awoken too early from hibernating slumber. Choking on your voice, your senses were working in overdrive to compensate for the shroud tied over your eyes. His tongue dipped into your entrance before licking a broad stripe up to your sensitive clit. 

Your arousal dripped past the fibers of gold and down against the sheets beneath you. His teeth bit at the knot hovering above your sensitive pearl, attempting to pry it away from you to no avail. He growled against your heat, the vibrations tingling your body as his frustration became more ferocious. “I want to see you,” he barked, his tongue lapping at your sensitive and exposed heat, “I want to see all of you.” His hands desperately clawed at your thighs to attempt to loosen the strands of gold. 

“Mihawk,” you mewled his name as his head began bobbing at your flesh. The intricate knots prompted the ministrations to become more intense at each passing swipe, “Mihawk, please.” The pit of your belly began to tingle with the simmering warmth of an impending eruption of curated bliss beneath Mihawk’s tongue. He continued swirling his tongue over your heat, your body becoming more ignited and propelled towards an awaiting explosion.

“Is it too much, my bride?” he asked you, his voice knit with concern for a moment while he halted his motions. You shook your head, reaching for him with your right hand. His left hand met with yours, giving your digits a gentle squeeze.

“You are perfect, my groom,” you praised him, squeezing his hand in response. The cloth over your eyes prompted you to begin to become agitated beneath its confining shroud. As his right hand pawed at your thigh, you pressed your head back against the mattress. Mihawk was transfixed, hypnotized at the rise and fall of your chest. 

“May I continue to please you this way?” he pressed a soft kiss against your thigh, his beard tickling your skin beneath your heightened senses. You give him a soft nod with your lips parting, letting out a soft cry when he doubled his efforts to bring you ever closer to reaching the point of ecstasy.

He was mesmerized at each soft tug on his hair, your hands lacing in his soft curls and rubbing soothing circles of encouragement against his skull. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he groaned against you, smiling as you reciprocated the soft squeeze. He softly groaned in frustration, desperately craving to see your eyes and feel your skin bare before him. 

“If I can not see you released from these bonds,” Mihawk groaned against your quivering heat, your walls beckoning him to chase your release by coating your entrance with glistening arousal, “I am going to lose what semblance that remains of my sanity.” 

“Mihawk-,” you attempt to cry your warning of your climax, your toes beginning to tingle and shake, as your belly fills with the overwhelming tightness of release as he dove back in against you. His tongue lapped eagerly, the grind the metal fibers brushing against your heat and causing your whole body to tingle. 

“-I know, my love,” he raised his hand, pressing down on your writhing stomach and holding you in place, “I can feel how close you are. I want you to lose yourself against my lips and tongue,” he focused his ministrations over your sensitive bud and skillfully chased your high with lips, “I want to feel your bliss, knowing it's crafted by my hands. I need to see this first, before I attempt to pry you from the bonds that contain you once more.” 

The woven coil snapped within you, your senses overwhelmed as you gushed over Mihawk’s tongue. His relentless attack never ceased, forcing you to experience the full ignition of your release. Your breath was stolen from you as you desperately called his name. Writhing beneath him, he continued to hold you firmly as you were chaperoned through your high. 

He withdrew from you once the world was once again within reach of your four senses, your eyes remaining shrouded with the lights of ecstasy beginning to dim behind the cloth. You felt Mihawk shift above you, his arms drawing over your body as he kissed his way up to your clavicle and neck. 

Your breath once again found you in a natural progression, your whimpers and moans becoming regulated by your steady breathing. Mihawk could not get enough of watching your lips parted and panting for him, your back arching and breathing returning to its regular syncopation. He so desperately desired to see your eyes, to see you lost in the bliss he crafted for you.

“Lady Dracule?” he apprehensively whispered to you, your face turning towards the source of his beckoning tone. “My love, are you quite alright? Was that okay? Did I-.”

“-Please rid me of these blasted knots, Mihawk,” you order him in return, your smile written in the warmth of your voice, “I need to see you. I miss you now more than ever before.” He called your name, a small waiver in his voice caused concern to knit over your brows, your hands meeting with his shoulders as you usher his face above yours.

You softly coax him up to your face, ushering him to position his body above your own. His lips descended on yours, his touch feeling less ravenous and more intentional than it was moments prior. His lips were soft, his actions truly depicting nothing but truth, love, and absolute honesty within his passionate kiss. His tongue traced the outline of your bottom lip, your own lips parting to shepherd him in to deepen the kiss. 

“I love you, my lady,” he whispered suddenly, his face pulling away from yours to look down at your face. Your soft smile rose to your face, your lips parting and chasing his withdrawal with them. He looked down at you, truly mesmerized by the beauty he had managed to claim beneath him. He meant every word uttered, down to the last syllable. You were his, and he was yours. 

“Show me,” you whispered to him, his breath hitching in his throat in response. Your final utterance had every part of him swelling with pride. “Make love to me.”

Mihawk immediately feels the twitch of his cock against his stomach, wanting nothing more than to claim his wife in this way by caging her beneath him. But as he met his eyes with the shroud that covered yours, he was met with a new challenge. 

“I want to see you, my darling,” he confessed in a breathy whisper, reaching up to your face and beginning to tug at the cloth covering your eyes. “I need to see you look at me as I make love to you for the first time.” He desperately begins to pry the material from your body.

At the pull and loosen of one strand, another would tighten in its place. He clawed at your stomach, intending to rid you of the coarse fibers only for it to constrict around your core that caused you to cry out at the overstimulation. He attempted to pry further, his arms clenching and shaking at how hard he gripped the material, but yet it still remained unbudging in its firm grip.

“M-Mihawk,” you whined, feeling him hoist up the material and grind your slit; your arousal pooling atop the bedsheets below you, He growled, attempting one final time to rid you of your confines before he gave in to his urge to finally claim you as his bride. 

“My love, I-...” he trailed off, feeling your hand reach down and cup his cheek. He was silent, still, allowing himself this small glimpse at the soft luxury he had not experienced before. He leant into your touch, placing his chin on your palm as you softly whispered to him.

“There will be other times,” you repeated your earlier sentiment, coaxing him towards your lips, “While I would love to see you as you are, I feel our other needs are of far greater importance.” Your teeth were revealed in your wolfy grin, hungry for your husband to finally claim you and brand you as his and his alone. As soon as Mihawk’s pointed gaze met with that smile, he was held captive beneath its majesty. He wanted nothing more than to please you, to dote on you, to claim you as his. 

“My beloved,” he whispered your name on his tongue, gently rolling it over with your formal title to him, “I want this to be special for you. This is a moment we cannot take back, a moment that joins us together officially as husband and wife. I will be yours, and you will be mine.” His confession had your heart soar, feeling tangibly how much this moment meant to him. 

“I am yours,” you whisper, drawing his chin up to your face, “Only yours.” Your confirmation rang in his ears, his heart beating in his chest, and his desire for you growing ever stronger. “If you are here, now, and in this moment,” you whisper to him, raising yourself up to sit before him, “I could want for nothing more.” 

Mihawk felt his desire overcome him, finally wanting to claim you as his. He needed you, to feel the way you felt wrapped around him. He wanted to bring you the greatest pleasure you had ever experienced, and was feeling the pressure to pursue such a performance. As your touch lingered on against his cheek, ushering him closer and reassuring him, all he wanted at that moment was you.

You.

His governess, his confidant, his friend, his wife.

His lost lady.

All of you. 

As you usher him closer, he leans over your body and cages you beneath his forearms. You smile, attempting to use your four other senses to get a read on how he is feeling above you right now. You listen to the pants in his breath, feel the heat in his skin, smell the wine on his tongue, and finally taste the arousal on his lips as they press themselves against yours. His kiss is intoxicating, filled with lust and consuming your very soul with the intensity of the oscillation. 

Moving your hands down to his shoulders, you draw him in closer; lying down on your back as you slot him in between your thighs. His lips grew bold, parting yours beneath his as his tongue darted out to brush with your own in a sultry tango. You reach down to his stomach, feeling all of the bare flesh beneath your fingertips and diving lower to his waistline. 

He smiles against your lips as you begin ridding himself of his pants. Struggling against the blinding shroud, you tap his skin to locate the buckle to release him of his marriage-clothes. He chuckles into your kiss, releasing himself from your lips and rising up to kneel on his calves. A bell jingles in your ear, his belt buckle ringing, as you hear shuffling material rid his pants from his hips and pool on the floor as he discarded them. 

Hands from the both of you desperately grasped and grabbed at one another, flesh meeting fingertips as your lips bound themselves against each other. You moaned against his lips as you felt his tip press against your slit beneath the bonds of gold imprisoning you against viewing your husband fully within the suite. 

“My heart,” he whispered to you, smoothing your hair over with his fingers, “My body,” he lined himself fully with your glistening core, prodding it with his swollen tip, “My soul,” he coaxed it within you, feeling the stretch of your body around him to compensate for his girth, “Is yours.” 

Pressing more of himself into you, you throw your head back against the pillows beneath you as you feel him finally begin to claim you as his wife physically. You hear his teeth grit as he paws at your thighs, holding them steady as he slowly sheathes himself deep within you. 

“Is this okay, my love?” he asks, his voice faltering at the end corner of it as he halts his movements. You wince a little, your body taking time to adjust to coaxing a lover within your body. You softly nod your head, prompting him to click his tongue in response, “Please answer me, my beloved. I need to know if it-...” he gasps, feeling the way your walls spasm around him to accommodate him, “...if it’s okay to move yet.” 

You gasp, feeling the remnants of arousal against your entrance accommodate Mihawk’s impressive girth deep within you. He had worked at your body so easily earlier, his frustration adamant in his need to claim an eruption from your body with his lips and tongue. He held himself stationary, using every fiber of his being to keep from ravishing you immediately before you had time to adjust to feeling him fill your body. 

“You can move, my love,” you whisper, your head desperately seeking him out beneath the blindfold with a soft smile on your face, “You have waited so patiently, and I am here for you to claim as your own.” You grin up at him, feeling his lips only a breath away from your own. 

Mihawk wastes no further time, immediately thrusting his cock deep within your body and sheathing it to the hilt. You cry out a little in shock, feeling full to the brim with his length buried deep within you, prompting him to pull back a little and test you with a gentle and slow thrust back into you. He softly whispered your name, groaning on the last syllable as his hips pressed against yours. 

Slow, deliberate, and fluid motions had your toes curling behind Mihawk’s hips; his right hand immediately finding your thigh and hooking it over his hip as he thrust into you. He groaned your name, feeling your hands collect his curls at the scruff of his neck as your body relaxed around him. Your back slid against the mattress, a knot in the middle of your shoulder blades beginning to loosen. Mihawk huffed his breath, his movements slotting himself within your walls becoming heavier and intentional.

The friction of the sheets grinding against your back had the slip-knot Benn Beckman placed in the middle of your shoulders finally beginning to unravel. Mihawk was too lost in the way your body felt finally wrapped around him, his eyes closing and finally giving in to the urges that began to claw and consume him. His heart, his body, his soul was yours in this moment, just as yours were his, as his hips staggered against you. 

“My wife,” he whispered, the pleasure building within the pit of his belly, his eyes scrunching shut as his girth and length quivered. He reached up, leaving your leg hooked behind him and hooked his thumbs beneath the blindfold, “I don’t care. I don’t care,” he began to move the shroud, your body beginning to loosen the strands of gold over your breasts and back, “I need to see you.”

“Mihawk,” you gasp, feeling him tug the material over your eyes. You flutter your eyelashes, adjusting to the hazy image of the World’s Greatest Swordsman, your swordsman, on top of you. His brow was furrowed, his lips parted, and his eyes were filled with nothing but absolute devotion and love. He was immediately lost within your eyes, a gasp fleeing his lips as he felt himself nearly come undone just at the soft gaze you gave to him.

He lost all his composure, picking up the pace as he gazed deep into your eyes. Huffing and panting, his pleasure nearly reached the peak. Waves of ecstasy began to wash over you, feeling your husband finally gaze so lovingly into your eyes as he chased your mutual eruptions of ecstasy. 

“Mine,” he chanted, leaning forward and staring at you like a beast consumed with lust, “Only mine.” You felt his motions stagger, becoming more frantic as he channeled you both towards release. You whimpered, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a soft mewl of bliss. 

“Don’t you dare,” Mihawk reached up, pressing his lips to yours to take your bottom lip away from your teeth, “I want to hear you. Let me hear you.” You listen to your husband, softly crying his name as the rapid approach of your bliss draws closer. Your body began to contract around his cock, his own groans adding to the symphony of ecstasy in the air as the crowd outside began to sing loudly and joyfully. 

“Mihawk,” you whined, gripping onto his shoulders as he felt you tighten around him. He cried your name, his cock twitching as he finally released himself deep within you. Your walls fluttered and contracted around him, wringing his cock of any final spurts of his spend and becoming one heart, one mind, one soul and one spirit at the join of your bodies. 

Thrusting languid rocks of his hips as you rode through your highs had neither of you realize the gold fibers had finally rid themselves of their hold on your flesh. You continued gazing into his face as he looked down, a soft smile drawing over his lips the moment he recognised the absence of the sun-dress. You were fully bare, both finally equal in your vulnerability and nudity. 

“There you are,” He sighed at you, bringing up his hand to caress your cheek, whispering in a voice so soft and intimate you could barely hear it, “My found-lady.” 

Overcome with emotions, your eyes began to prick with tears as your smile grew over your lips. The curse had ended, Mihawk’s tasks had been completed, you had bound yourself to him as his lover, his wife, and his confidant. You were his, and he was yours. 

Your tears began to spill over your lash line, prompting Mihawk to chuckle and draw you closer into his chest; sitting you upright and cradling you into his chest as he rocked back onto his knees. He smoothed over your hair, pressing soft kisses into your hairline and sighed as you circled your arms around him. 

“I love you,” he whispered into your ear, his confession feeling more deep, truthful and intimate than the experience you had falling apart in his arms, “More than you could ever know.” You buried your head in his chest, his chin resting atop your head as you felt the flicker of his heartbeat thud against your ear. 

He rose to his feet, hooking a hand beneath your knees and holding the other firmly behind your back, “I’m going to bathe you now, my love.” He whispered into your cheek, pressing a soft kiss against your skin, “And then I have a gift for you.” Walking over to the ensuite, he balanced you on his muscular thighs and leant over the bath and turned on the taps to fill the extraordinarily large bath full of hot water. He tested the temperature with his wrist before leaning back and kissing your temple. You pry yourself away from his chest, looking down at the water.

“This is going to take a while to fill, my love,” you smile, shaking your head at the slow rise of water flowing in the ceramic basin. Mihawk’s smirked down at you, his teeth bared in an uncharacteristic, wolfy grin.

“Oh no,” he mocked, brushing his nose playfully with your cheek and giving it a quick peck, “Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” You laughed at him, giving his chest a playful push before moving your arm up to his neck and drawing him into a lengthy kiss.

Tag List: @maybe-a-bi-witch @fuzzyfestcat @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @be-good-please @sukilovesyou @acehyacinth @andriannag @one17 @canthebest1 @khaleesihavilliard @hungrhay @sentieence @lebanese-afg-ya @captaincupio @szired @sexc-snail @alphaash99 @mfreedomstuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrs-wolfwood @jaguarthecat @marsbars09 @vespidphoenix @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine

#one piece #x reader #opla #opla fic #mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk sapsorrow #sapsorrow fic #mihawk smut #mihawk storyteller au #mihawk sapsorrow au #mihawk x reader #mihawk x governess #hawkeye mihawk

[macbeth-murder-match]

Macbeth Murder Match!

Laugh to scorn the power of man, for none of woman born shall harm Macbeth.

Welcome to the Macbeth Murder Poll!

For those unversed, in the play Macbeth, Macbeth is given a prophecy by three witches: No one born of a woman can harm him.

In the play (spoilers!) this is resolved by MacDuff, who was born via c-section. However that's boring, so lets do something more fun!

Submit your blorbos who you think could kill Macbeth!

Submissions will be open for quite a while as i am currently also running @white-boy-bracket and need to wait for that to conclude to get to bracket building! I'm opening it now though so we can get lots of contestants!

Questions welcome!

Inspired by: @system-bracket @ocd-character-polls @butler-bracket @beautiful-boy-bracket @artificialkids-2k23-official @aroaceswagtournament @the-nobody-tournament @worlds-worst-dad-competition and more!

RULES FOR SUBMISSION:

Characters do not need to be physically strong enough to kill Macbeth, this is about technicality!

Characters in header are not guaranteed entrants- if you like them, submit them!

NO:

C-Section babies! That counts as 'being born'!

Babies born naturally *from a woman*

Mass Produced Clones

I'd say no real people but honestly if you can find me a real person who was not born, good on you.

Any animal! Animals need to fit another criteria! "Woman" here means any woman identifying member of ANY species!

YES:

Artificially Created (carved, cloned, assembled, baked)

"Born" in an unusual way (sprung fully formed from head, mother disintegrated without baby)

Loophole caused by throwaway line ("Neither of my parents showed up for my birth")

Mpreg

Characters resurrected into a body that meets the above criteria

Other fun technicalities i haven't thought of!

Orion Fowl clause: (below)

Body is of woman born, but the rules of the universe the character is in appear to treat an entity as separate enough to be affected differently from host by magic.

In the above scene, Artemis (with magical DID) has been enthralled by a rune, and is completely controlled. However, when an electric shock causes Orion (an alter) to front, he is not possessed despite the rune branded into the body's skin. For this reason, Orion counts as separate enough from Artemis to count as "not of woman born", and thusly qualifies to kill Macbeth. Additionally as I am using Orion's name to explain this concept, he is the only guaranteed entrant.

#macbeth #william shakespere #shakespeare #polls #tournaments #macbeth murder match

[bad-fucking-omens]

The Witch Twin (Alec V. x OC) - Chapter 23 - Confrontation

Summary: When I thought about my future, I was sure that I had the rest of my life vaguely planned out.

Then, my older sister moved up from Arizona to stay with us — and turned my entire life upside down.

I had no idea just how bad it had gotten until I was standing in a castle in Italy, convinced that I was about to die.

Length: 2.3K words (Complete fic 71.8K words)

Fic warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, explicit smut (M/F), referenced/implied past child abuse, emotional manipulation by sibling

Chapter warnings: None

Read on AO3 or read below

23. CONFRONTATION

The full force of the Volturi — the kings, their wives, the high guard, and the low guard — had gathered just outside of the large field where we would meet the Cullens. We were arranged in a single line, with the low guard flanking the ends of our formation and the high guard in the middle and the kings and their wives at the heart of the formation. We were all wearing our long cloaks, the hoods drawn up so that it was slightly harder to recognize where each of us were standing. The color of our cloaks formed a gradient, with the darkest in the middle and the lightest on the very edges.

I was standing between Marcus and Alec. On Aro’s order, I had linked the minds of all of the guards and the kings. We had practiced the link over and over again for the last week. I had never linked the whole guard together before, but, thankfully, it wasn’t much harder than linking the entire high guard.

Finally, Aro said through the mind link, “Forward.”

We drifted forward as a single unit, moving from the treeline into the snow-dusted field. We glided across the snow elegantly, looking as if we were simply floating over the ground.

I could hear our fifty witnesses gathering behind us, and the informer, Irina. She lingered between the group of witnesses and the guard.

Led by Demetri, half of our guard had spent the last week gathering as many witnesses as possible. The kings wanted as many of our kind as possible to watch the trial and spread the truth about what would happen here to other covens as a warning.

A moment later, an image flashed through one mind and then echoed in a dozen others a millisecond later. We all froze in place with shock, staring at the large wolves that were moving to flank the Cullens.

After I looked away from the wolves, my eyes found the one at the heart of this problem. It was clear that she was a young child — with an inhumanly pretty face. It was clear that she was an immortal. The evidence of their crime, plain for anyone to see, was standing between Bella and Edward.

One of the Cullens stepped forward. It took me a moment to place him from my murky memories, but his name echoed through my mind in Aro’s voice.

Carlisle.

“Aro, my old friend,” the Cullen patriarch called, spreading his arms wide. “It’s been centuries.”

There was a long pause as Aro contemplated Carlisle’s words. I was careful to keep his thoughts contained to just himself. It wasn’t necessary for any of us to know exactly what he was thinking right now.

Then, Aro stepped forward. Renata, Aro’s bodyguard that had the ability to repel opponents, moved with him with her fingers pressed firmly against his back. A few of the guards growled and leaned forward into defensive crouches as one of our leaders stepped out of line.

Aro held up one hand and said softly, “Peace.”

The guards calmed slightly as Aro took a few more steps forward. He said, “Fair words, Carlisle. They seem out of place, considering the army you’ve assembled to kill me, and to kill my dear ones.”

Carlisle shook his head. He extended his hand. “You have but to touch my hand to know that was never my intent.”

“But how can your intent possibly matter, dear Carlisle, in the face of what you have done?”

“I have not committed the crime you are here to punish me for.”

“Then step aside and let us punish those responsible. Truly, Carlisle, nothing would please me more than to preserve your life today.”

“No one has broken the law, Aro. Let me explain.”

Carlisle offered his hand again, but before Aro could respond, Caius moved to his brother’s side.

“So many pointless rules, so many unnecessary laws you create for yourself, Carlisle,” Caius hissed. “How is it possible that you defend the breaking of one that truly matters?”

“The law is not broken. If you would listen–”

“We see the child, Carlisle,” Caius snarled. “Do not treat us as fools.”

She is not an immortal. She is not a vampire. I can easily prove this with just a few moments–”

Caius interrupted him again to say, “If she is not one of the forbidden, then why have you massed a battalion to protect her?”

“Witnesses, Caius, just as you have brought. Any one of these friends can tell you the truth about the child. Or you could just look at her, Caius. See the flush of human blood in her cheeks.”

“Artifice!” the blond king snapped. “Where is the informer? Let her come forward!”

When she didn’t move on her own, one of the guards pushed her towards Caius and Aro. She stepped forward slowly, her eyes locked on her sisters, who were standing with the Cullens.

Caius crossed the distance between them and slapped her across the face. She looked at him and he pointed a finger at the child.

“This is the child you saw?” he demanded. “The one that was obviously more than human?”

Irina’s eyes flickered to the child. Her head tilted to the side as she gazed at her, confusion crossing her features.

“I . . . I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?” Caius asked, his voice a deadly whisper.

I heard confusion spread across everyone’s thoughts through the mindlink. None of us understood how she didn’t know if this child was the same one she had come to inform us about — our memories were absolutely perfect.

“She’s not the same, but I think it’s the same child,” Irina said nervously. “What I mean is, she’s changed. This child is bigger than the one I saw, but–”

Caius gasped furiously and Irina quickly stopped talking. Aro swiftly moved to Caius’s side, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Be composed, brother,” Aro advised calmly. “We have time to sort this out. No need to be hasty.”

Caius turned away from Irina with a small huff while Aro extended his hand to her. “Now, sweetling, show me what you’re trying to say.”

She took his hand and her thoughts flashed through Aro’s mind, then my own. I allowed them to filter through to the other kings and the guard. I tilted my head when the memory ended and looked back at the child curiously.

“You see, Caius? It is a simple matter to get what we need. . . . And so we have a mystery on our hands, it seems,” Aro said, releasing Irina’s hand. “It would appear the child has grown. Yet Irina’s first memory was clearly that of an immortal child. Curious.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to explain,” Carlisle said, clearly relieved. He held out his hand again, clearly offering it to Aro.

“I would rather have the explanation from someone more central to the story, my friend. Am I wrong to assume that this breach was not of your making?”

“There was no breach.”

“Be that as it may, I will have every facet of the truth. And the best way to get that is to have evidence directly from your talented son.” Aro inclined his head towards Edward. “As the child clings to his newborn mate, I’m assuming Edward is involved.”

Edward turned to press kisses to Bella and the child’s foreheads. Then, he moved across the field, touching Carlisle’s shoulder as he passed the man. He stopped a few yards away from Aro. He held his hand out.

Aro eagerly moved towards him. The guard grew more anxious as he moved farther from us, their thoughts all focused on preparing themselves to act at a moment’s notice. Aro took Edward’s hand and bowed his head in concentration.

I saw every memory and thought that Edward had ever had flash through Aro’s mind, but I kept it from everyone else, even the kings. It was dizzying, and disgusting. I watched as my sister wasted away to carry the child in her stomach until she was little more than sallow skin stretched over bones and a large baby bump. I saw the child when she was ‘born’, literally torn out of Bella’s stomach by Edward, who used his razor sharp teeth. I saw the child grow and grow rapidly, learning to walk and talk within mere days. She was no immortal child, not in the way all of us knew and expected. But she was certainly not purely human either.

Low murmurs rumbled through the guard’s mindlink as Aro remained frozen for longer than they expected. I attempted to calm them by letting them know that Aro was simply taking his time, probing for any and all information he could gather from Edward. They settled marginally.

Finally, Aro straightened, but he didn’t release Edward’s hand.

“You see?” Edward said.

“Yes, I see, indeed,” Aro agreed, amazed. “I doubt whether any two among gods or mortals have ever seen quite so clearly. You have given me much to ponder, my young friend. Much more than I expected. . . . May I meet her? I never dreamed of the existence of such a thing in all my centuries. What an addition to our histories!”

“What is this about, Aro?” Caius snapped.

“Something you’ve never dreamed of, my practical friend. Take a moment to ponder, for the justice we intended to deliver no longer applies.”

Caius hissed and Aro cautioned, “Peace, brother.”

The guard’s mindlink was alight with confusion and anger at Aro’s words. I hastened to calm them once again, insisting that Aro did not mean for us to give up and leave the Cullens unpunished. ‘Trust him.’

“Will you introduce me to your daughter?” Aro asked Edward.

Edward nodded reluctantly. He was still holding Aro’s hand, and Aro answered the question that passed through my sister’s husband’s mind.

“I think a compromise on this one point is certainly acceptable, under the circumstance. We will meet in the middle.”

Aro released Edward’s hand but, as soon as Edward turned, he threw his arm around the younger man’s shoulders. As they began to move towards the Cullens, the rest of us followed them. Aro raised his hand.

“Hold, my dear ones. Truly, they mean us no harm if we are peaceable.”

Many of those within the guard hissed and snarled in protest. We didn’t trust the Cullens.

“Perhaps you should bring a few members of your guard with us,” Edward suggested. “It will make them more comfortable.”

Aro nodded, then snapped his fingers twice. “Felix, Demetri.”

The mated bodyguards moved to his side instantly. Renata was still trailing behind Aro, her fingers never moving from their firm position against his back.

“Bella,” Edward called when they finally stopped in the center of the snowy field. “Bring Renesmee . . . and a few friends.”

My eyes moved to look at my sister for the first time today. She still had the red eyes of a newborn, though they seemed to be slightly duller, likely from the animal blood she was consuming. She was certainly aesthetically gorgeous, yet the sight of her filled my body with fury. She had tried to keep me from my mate. I would never be able to forgive her for causing me that pain.

Alec brushed his fingers lightly against my hand, drawing me back from my rage. I relaxed at his gentle touch and I shot him a quick, thankful glance before I focused back on the trial.

Bella was walking forward with the child and two protectors. One was a wolf and the other was Emmett, the bulky Cullen vampire. The guard rumbled uneasily at the sight of the wolf moving closer. Aro held his hand up and they fell silent again, though they continued to complain in the mindlink. I let them keep their thoughts to themselves. The last thing we needed right now was for them to whip themselves into a fury.

“Interesting company you keep,” Demetri commented. Edward ignored him and joined Bella once they reached the middle of the field, taking her hand in his.

Aro tilted his head to the side as he stared at the child, Renesmee. “I hear her strange heart. I smell her strange scent.” Aro looked up at Bella. “In truth, young Bella, immortality does become you most extraordinarily. It is as if you were designed for this life. . . . May I greet your daughter, lovely Bella?”

Bella moved forward with Renesmee. Aro grinned.

“But she’s exquisite. So like you and Edward. Hello, Renesmee.”

“Hello, Aro,” she answered. Her voice was high and musical, but it was strange to hear a young child with such a voice.

“What is it?” Caius hissed.

“Half mortal, half immortal,” Aro announced. “Conceived so, and carried by this newborn while she was still human.”

“Impossible,” the other king scoffed.

“Do you think they’ve fooled me, brother?” Aro asked icily. Caius shifted uncertainly, but remained silent. “Is the heartbeat you hear a trickery as well? Calmly and carefully, brother. I know well how you love your justice, but there is no justice in acting against this unique little one for her parentage. And so much to learn, so much to learn! I know you don’t have my enthusiasm for collecting histories, but be tolerant with me, brother, as I add a chapter that stuns me with its improbability. We came expecting only justice and the sadness of false friends, but look what we have gained instead! A new, bright knowledge of ourselves, our possibilities.”

Aro reached his hand out to Renesmee. Instead of taking his hand, however, she leaned closer and pressed her palm to his cheek.

I watched the steady stream of her thoughts. She was showing him — and by extension me — every memory of her life. It was clear that everyone around her doted on her and cherished her. She had apparently even been told about me — that I had been kidnapped by the Volturi and forced to be Alec’s mate.

I scoffed in disbelief. Several pairs of eyes glanced towards me, both from the guard and the Cullens.

‘I heard it as well,’ Aro said in our personal mindlink. ‘Come, young Eve. Why don’t you tell little Renesmee what actually happened?’

#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi imagine #alec volturi fanfiction #alec volturi #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #twilight #fanfic #volturi fanfiction #volturi

[buckybarnesthings]

New Chapter Alert 🚨

Settling in (The Grey Witch Bucky x OC)

Once we arrived at the compound Nat directed me to the communal kitchen and lounge area, where a few unfamiliar faces were lurking. The rest of the team had apparently gone off to train or prepare for an upcoming mission so Wanda and Nat would hang out with me until Tony returned.

"Hello everyone this is Aspyn the new recruit." Wanda announced to the room.

Before I could say anything the man sitting in the corner with the dark hair and striking blue eyes, made a hasty exit. Clearly he wasn't a fan of me yet.

"Don't worry about him, he's just a grumpy old man with trust issues." The man in the kitchen stated. "Oh I'm Sam by the way or Falcon. The one that stormed out is Bucky."

"Well I'm not expecting this transition to be easy and I know about his past so I don't blame him." I said, revealing more than I should've.

"Wait how do you know about Bucky's past?" Wanda queries.

"Oh umm I just heard some SHIELD agents talking about him before I left." I covered.

They all looked suspicious about my answer but didn't get a chance to ask anymore questions as I was bowled over by a black mass. At first everyone was alarmed until I started patting the creature and cooing praise at seeing Hades.

"So this is the mighty beast you mentioned earlier, how beautiful." Wanda cooed.

"Yes this is Hades and I swear he's less excitable than this under normal circumstances." I said.

I rose to my feet and Hades sat between my legs facing the group of people in-front of me, this is one of his ways of keeping me safe.

"Well Sabrina the teenage witch, he's definitely not a sociable creature with anyone other than yourself. He refused to sit anywhere near me in the car." Tony revealed.

"Fury did say nicknames were your forte, but yes he'll warm up to you all eventually but other than that you won't see much of him throughout the day." I shared, gently patting his head.

"Doesn't bother us, we see more of Tinman's cat then him sometimes." Tony said, obviously referring to Bucky and his cat Alpine. "Alright well let me show you to your room so you can get settled in and then I can get home to the missus before midnight."

"Yeah sure. Thank you Wanda and Nat for being so kind to me. It was nice getting to meet you all, I'll see you tomorrow I assume." I said, waving to everyone whilst following Tony down to the elevator with Hades in tow.

We walked in silence and got onto the elevator pressing the button to the third floor. Tony seemed occupied with his phone and I didn't want to disturb him incase it was something important. Hades sat in the corner of the room monitoring everything going on around him. The elevator dinged as it reached what was supposedly my floor, the doors slid open and revealed yet another hallway lined with doors but this time there was only two. Tony stepped out motioning me to follow him.

"Here we are this is your door and just there across the hall is Barnes' room. You won't see much of him, he's a bit of a recluse and he isn't your biggest fan at the moment. You are free to decorate your room as you please, there's a door with a stair case down to the open field for you and Hades to get some air." Tony stated.

"Thank you Tony for everything and for not making assumptions about me." I openly shared.

"Don't sweat it, here's your key. Goodnight, I'll see you at 6am tomorrow in the lounge room Wanda showed you to before. Now I've got a wife and daughter to get home to." He said, already walking towards the elevator by the end of his sentence.

I let him leave without another word, sparing a glance at my neighbours door but not bothering him is my best options at the moment. So I slid the key into the door and twisted the knob, pushing it open to reveal a large room with three doors and a giant wall of window with a door leading outside like Tony said.

Boxes of stuff was scattered throughout the room with my few belongings and furniture. The bed was already assembled and made ready for me to fall onto and let darkness consume me. But before I could sleep I had to do a few things to honour my heritage as a witch. I opened the box labeled magic and miscellaneous things pulling out my sage and lighter. I went through and cleansed the open space before opening one of the three doors to find a large walk in wardrobe, then a bathroom with a bathtub sat close to the window. The final door was a dark room with only a small window close to the ceiling. To which I decided would be my practice room where I would set up my altar and a potions bench. After the sage had burnt out I set up my practice room and started feeling tired, I only got my altar finished before deciding to go to bed.

"Come Hades." I commanded, Hades had been sitting by the window watching for any threats. He quietly stood and followed me to the bed, he jump up and spread himself across the bottom of the enormous bed.

Sleep found me easily but didn't last long as I was awoken by Hades moving to the window. Indicating he wanted to go out to hunt, checking the time on the alarm clock it was only 4:33am but I let him out anyway. I couldn't get myself back to sleep so I decided to explore the rest of this floor and surely it wasn't just two rooms.

I was right the hallway lead out into an open space which had small kitchen area with a lounge space that had a bookshelf, TV and a few games shelves. The kitchen had benches, a fridge and a microwave, but I assume that's because meals were consumed as a team on the lower level. I went and opened some cupboards looking for a glass so I could have some water. Having missed dinner yesterday had me looking forward to seeing Tony so I could either join the team for breakfast or find my own. Finally opening a cupboard I found the cups and grabbed one moving to the tap.

"Making yourself at home?" A deep voice said, alarming me so much that I dropped the glass of water. I simply watched as it shattered at my feet, the shadowy figure moved into the room. "I'd say sorry but I wouldn't mean it."

"I don't expect an apology it was my fault for not staying alert." I stated, looking up to see Bucky resting against the bench in front of me.

"I know you." He shared.

"And I you or at least a version of you." I replied.

"We met at Hydra didn't we." He stated rather than asked.

"We did." I responded.

"Look I know I'm coming off like an asshole but I wasn't informed on who the new recruit was." He shared.

"It's ok I understand believe me I think we both share the same issues." I joked.

"It's good to see you, I only just started getting my memories back and you were one of the first things I remembered." He admitted, rubbing a shy hand up and down the back of his neck.

"It's good to see you too. If anyone in that shithole deserved redemption it was you." I said, warmly smiling at him.

"Do the team know we know each other?" He asked.

"No but they are slightly suspicious as to how I know about your past." I replied. "I didn't know if you'd remember me or want them to know what we were in Hydra."

"Thank you for that but I'm sure the team should know about our past." He responded, moving around to my side of the counter, grasping my hand a rubbing soothing circles on my palm. "I thought about you a lot."

"I think about you too, you'd be happy to know that I've started learning about what Hydra did to me. Im still practicing my magic but I've also got super soldier serum to my advantage." I shared, gazing into those oh so familiar ocean eyes.

"Im glad to hear your still doing what you love, little witch." He grinned.

"Well Sarg, it's apart of who I am." I admitted, not wanting to let the conversation end.

For a moment we simply just stood there hands connected, looking into each others eyes looking for answers as to why we still feel like we're drawn to each other after everything. Our bubble was burst by a booming voice coming from the hallway we reside in.

"BUCK! Are you coming or what? We gotta go." The voice exclaimed.

"Sorry I've been summoned, I'll see you around. If you're free later today we should catch-up and go get a coffee or something." Bucky said. "Coming Steve!"

"Go enjoy being a free man, Buck." I say, playfully teasing him but truly meaning what was said.

He simply smiled at me and grabbed a bottle from the fridge making his way towards Steve. Once again leaving me to gather my thoughts and reminisce about the good things Hydra brought me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashback

It was a frosty winter morning, I had been left in the lab after yet another experiment. This one was excruciating they injected me with some glowing liquid that made me feel like fire was coursing through my veins travelling the expanse of my body. But now I dread what comes next as they'll test me and push me to the brink of death looking for a new development in my ability. I was broken from my thoughts by the sound of the lab doors opening and revealed the scientist and Hydra agents who were tasked with my case. They dragged me off to a training room where I would be physically assaulted by multiple agents before I eventually showed an ability or almost die.

But they weren't alone this time there was a tall masked male figure waiting for me with four agents on each side of him. I was stupid I knew who this was, I'd read his file . The Winter Soldier. Hydra's greatest weapon and assassin. He wasn't done any justice in his file, his presence was enough to chill me to the bone. It was clear he was here to be the one to break me this time.

"Begin." A voice commanded over the intercom.

Without any hesitation the soldier made an advance towards me, the agents stepping away and standing close to the door as if to prevent any runaways. I was still recovering from the injection so I could barely stand. I tried to will my body to move even just to collapse but it wouldn't listen I was frozen in place. I couldn't do anything but take the beating for the soldier. It went on for 10 minutes before I finally got some control of my body, it was only enough to remove the soldiers googles. The look within his eyes shattered my soul, he looked lost and at war with himself. I knew he wasn't here willingly and that he was under mind control but the eyes are the window to his soul and his soul is eternally tortured by his actions. He seems remorseful towards me for a second but he quickly averts his gaze as he delivers the final blow to my left temple, I'm instantly unconscious from the force. I can feel the agents lifting me from the floor and placing me on a cold flat surface. I felt their presence leave the room but I wasn't alone yet. I focused my sense on this presence, if I hadn't I would've missed the broken and tormented words of the soldier.

"I'm sorry, forgive me." He whispered.

If only I could've comforted him maybe I could've prevented the trauma coming his way.

_____________________________________

Words: 2044

A/N- this chapter is just to introduce our beloved Aspyn and her connection to our favourite character. But how well do they know each other, how deep does their past go. I guess we will find out in the next few chapters but the next chapter will introduce some rivalries and maybe even an enemy.

#fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader series #bucky x reader #sam wilson #falcon #captain america #wanda marvel #marvel #black widow #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x oc #oc #aspyn #scarlet witch #witchcore #witch aesthetic #grey witch #the avengers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #loki #thor #tony stark

[skye-huntress]

The Witch from Mercury Finale Reaction

Episode 24: “May All Blessings Find Their Way to You, I’m Wishing It”

Title is a reference to the season 1 OP, I see.

They’re planning to fire, again? The more this drags out, the harder it will be to cover up.

I see Guel is riding shotgun with Felsi. That said, that definitely would not be very safe during a real firefight.

Is Suletta reaching her limits, now of all times? Well, it does seem to early for that so she’ll probably be fine.

Aaaaand, I just watched the rest at once without taking notes, so prepare for everything to be out of order and me forgetting things

Let’s see, Suletta and Aerial were brought in, and Suletta did eventually wake up on her own. She hadn’t quite reached her limits yet but she was definitely in the red.

Although they successfully shut down Quiet Zero, everyone else got themselves captured in the meantime. Martin, did you even do anything?!

You got to admit, that was a pretty good line from Miorine, and dead on. Taking hostages is unnecessary, Suletta will show up on her own anyway.

If I’m not mistaken, Suletta has previously chastised herself for being too greedy, but now she’s owning it. Girl knows what she wants and she’s going to make it happen.

We’ve been waiting, for this entire series, for this very moment, when Suletta stands up to her mother and openly defies her.

This is the point where shit gets a little weird. I did not much care for Number 4 and certainly wasn’t expecting his return, especially now of all times. Apparently everyone who has used the Gundams exists in the datastorm, not just Eri. Which means they were the ones who interfered last episode, and it explains how Eri knew who it was without anyone else appearing to be around.

This is the point where weird turns into awesome. We’ve seen Aerial go from red to blue to white, and now we have the Calibarn go full rainbow.

Threaten her all you won’t, Miorine doesn’t give a fuck.

So this is Miorine’s Plan B. Dissolving the Benerit Group, selling the assets to Earth like Shaddiq planned, and exposing his criminal ties to the Space Assembly League.

There is something so satisfying about seeing the Peil CEOs realise they’ve lost everything and the cherry on top being Elan quitting on them and taking a better offer. I suppose he never really did anything wrong, and he probably wasn’t to keen on having several other people walking around with his face.

The desperate, last ditch gambit of a man who is unwilling to admit he has already lost. This never works and usually is the point where hero starts to flex and show how much more badass they actually are.

Now she’s controlling other Gundams now and using them to amplify the power of the datastorm. Since everything runs on Permit, even Doomsday weapons, that’s all Suletta needs.

I see dead people.

No. 5 gets to see Norea one last time.

Meanwhile Prospera has one last talk with all the people she needs to hear from most, the family she lost and the family she still has left.

And now everything is turning into space dust for some reason. To be fair, both Quiet Zero and Gundams are very dangerous and would only ever be used for one thing, so it’s probably for the best. That said, one of them is Suletta’s current ride, so it is a bit inconvenient for her.

I didn’t know those keychains had any sort of practical function.

The silence was a bit eerie while it lasted but I wasn’t too worried. This scene was clearly a callback to their first meeting, complete with a headbutt.

Three years later…. Nika was released from prison. What a way to kick off this epilogue. Nice haircut.

Petra is better and working for Gund-Arm Inc. and her dumbass boyfriend didn’t get killed.

Guel is working with two of the sassiest people in space. Pray for him. Or not.

Seems Shaddiq took the fall in order to expose the SAL, and Miorine, the girlboss that she is, stole his harem.

The matching keychains that Miorine apparently brings around everywhere are now her sisters-in-law. Figure that one out.

Judging from the conversation, despite going through physical therapy to regain the use of her body, Suletta has already built her school on Mercury, and plans to build another on Earth. Impressive. She also seems to be settling down on Earth with her new wife, her mother and her keychain sisters. Good for her. She moved forward and gained a lot more than two.

All around, happy ending. Almost no one of importance died, and if they did, they apparently ascended to a higher form of existence, or something like that.

More importantly, we the gays win again. Sure, we didn’t get a kiss, but it’s not like there’s any ambiguity here.

#the witch from mercury #g witch #g witch spoilers

[bullet-prooflove]

When in Rome: Joe Velasco x Reader

Tagging: @iyoskyslover​   @plaidbooks​   @misscharlielulu​   @witches-unruly-heart​   @shay-o-fiction​   @kimm4710​   @ednastvincent​   @storiesofsvu​   @magic-multicolored-miracle​  @rosaliedepp​     @cycat4077​   @crazy4chickennuggets @cixrosie @202rosebudd @themisunderstoodblackswan @im-just-a-mississippi-girl

You could feel the very first chill of the season in the air as you pulled the black leather jacket even tighter around your body. Your fingers sought out the silver zipper guiding it up to the vibrant red scarf that was wound tightly around your throat. The park was quiet at this hour and that was the way you liked it. The streetlights were beginning to flicker on, highlighting the fountain you were leaning against.

You loved this place; it wasn't hard to understand why Joe had asked to meet here. The place was rich with life, history and texture, you could practically feel it thrumming in the air. You didn't regret joining the police academy at eighteen but sometimes you wished you'd seen a little bit more of the world beforehand.

You heard Joe’s familiar footsteps long before you saw him, it wasn't until he took his seat beside you on that you turned your head to acknowledge his presence. Joe looked dishevelled, his jaw lined with five o’clock shadow, dark hair sticking up in all directions. He was wearing a faded grey hoodie that covered his broad frame, black and white harem pants with tiny elephants stitched into the fabrics and flip flops. The stench of weed clung to his clothing causing you to wrinkle your nose.

“This is a look.” You told him, gesturing at his assemble.

“When in Rome.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You smell like a grow house.”

“That’s because I have literally been working in one.” Joe informed you, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “They think I’m out meeting my dealer.”

“So, let’s make this quick then.” You uttered. “What was so important that you couldn’t go through your handler, not that I’m not thrilled to hear from you.”

“You missing me back in SVU?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

You nudged his shoulder lightly with his own.

“Missing you in general.” You told him, lingering in his proximity. “The bed’s lonely without you.”

“Trust me I’d rather be sleeping with you than camping out in the Mystery Machine with Shaggy and Scooby.” He informed you, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the camper van on the opposite side of the iron fencing. “That’s not why I called you down here.”

It was the tapping of his foot that sent alarm bells. You recognised that gesture, hell you did yourself when you were anxious.

"Someone's asking questions, questions about you and the explosion that killed your old partner Quinn." Joe told you in a hushed tone. "They wanted to know what happened to Algarez after you got to him."

"You know what happened."

"You said it was in self-defence." Joe said, his tone resolute as he studied the profile of your face. "I don't care if that's the truth or not. He deserved what he got for torturing Quinn, but you need to know that someone is looking into this, and I don't know if there is anything for them to find."

"There isn't." You told him wearily, digging your hands into your pockets.

There was nothing but your memories and the vast emptiness that flooded your body whenever you thought about the look of surprise on Algarez’s face when you pulled the trigger.

Joe was straightening up, his green eyes fixated on your face as he stared down at you. There was an ache in your chest, it climbed up into your throat, making your eyes sting as Joe’s hands came to rest upon your shoulders. His thumbs caressed the line of your collarbone through your leather jacket, you missed the feel of his hands on your skin.

“I love you alright?” he said quietly. “I don’t care what you did in the past. I only care about your future.”

Love Joe Velasco? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#joe velasco #joe velasco x reader #joe velasco x you #jose velasco x reader #jose velasco x you #jose velasco

[the-hellhounds]

Happy birthday, grumpy pants!

Following the celebration of Lucas' birthday, all the boys are back at the pack house in a hurry fixing one of their grumpy hound friends' birthday party.

Mr. Im Changkyun (Daniel)

Playing with one of the balloon strings that wondered around the living room, Minjun sat away from everyone so they could work while Lisa— Kyun's newfound interest— was busy having away from the house.

A date they would be at.

"Papa?" The small one year asks when Haechan runs by with a stack of presents. His eyes following his father as he set them down at the gift table that Jaemin had set up before being in the kitchen with his mate.

"Yes, Minjunnie?" Haechan asks him with a smile.

Getting up from the floor, a teddy bear rug they had for when he was playing with his toys. He goes to his father who scoops him up into his arms and kisses his cheek loudly, the infant giggling as he hugged him.

"Let's go help Mark with the lights and music." Haechan tells him, leading both towards where the hound was stood with Johnny behind a DJ turn table.

"I think dinner went well," Changkyun says while he walked with Lisa up the steps of the porch to the pack house. "But I'm really curious to why Hanbin kept texting me to bring you here..." He tells her, a hint of confusion had struck him once he heard more than one heartbeat inside the house.

A groan leaves his chest hoping they all weren't there to ruin his date.

"Stop groaning," She had teased him. "I bet it's nothing bad for him to have wanted you to come here. Maybe they just want to meet the one who tolerates your grumpy ass." She snickered with a small laugh, the male hound only looking at her before he opened the door to the house.

"I really doubt that-" he goes to say, but is stopped when everyone yelled.

"Happy birthday!!!"

"Shit- I mean, hey..." He corrects himself quickly once he sees Minjun in Haechan's arms. The father of the pup already glaring at him for his crude language in front of his son. "It was today?" Kyun smiles as he sees that the decorations they got were all dark colors instead of the bright colors he hated.

Birthday guest list: @fallenangel-oc ( staci & alya ♥︎ × ♥︎ ) - @lovesick-hyuck ( ♥︎ ) - @witch-renjunnie ( ♥︎ ) - @monsterhigh-cb ( jaemin♥︎ ) - @helluvaboss-cb ‐ @redroom-cb ( chae ♥︎) - @universe-of-superm ( little lion ♥︎ ) @kitsuneboyscb ( taeil & kun ♥︎ × ♥︎) - @multiyiren - @ateezmystery ( yeosang ♥︎ ) - @frathouse-cb ( sicheng ) - @uridealbf-cb - @uridealgf-cb - @raiden-oc ( 🌺 ♥︎ ) - @clubwnderland - @domxbot - @kimheebby - @fantasyaespa - @badbf-cb ( lisa ♥︎ ) - @sirensoc - @multiaugirls ( karina ♥︎ ) - @darkmoonsiblings-reblog - @multiauboys - @dreampodcast - @kavengers-assemble - @thepack-cb - @dc-heroes-cb - @thechoi-bot - @theocsnextdoor [dm for + or -]

#changkyun 🔥 #hbd changkyun! #Spotify

[cdreambur]

fantasy au where shapeshifter and esteemed fighter dream joins an alliance of magical beings after the humans of their world declare war against them.

he travels for almost three weeks to get to the seelie court where the first meeting is supposed to be held, arriving in the dead of night.

two guards let him in after he tells them his name and why he's here, and dream feels relief wash over him when he finally steps inside, the sound of the majestic iron gate echoing behind him.

he's only been here once before, many years ago, but the slim, elegant towers, winding trees, sparkling waterfalls, and open, intricately designed houses and pavilions are just as beautiful as he remembers.

wandering down the path to where he knows the quarters for the soldiers are, he's surprised when he sees a lone torch illuminating the archery range.

he finds out why a moment later when the soft sound of a bowstring being let go fills the air and his eyes land on a figure a few meters away.

the stranger is already aiming with his next arrow, and dream's eyes follow the sharp tip as it flies and flies and flies before sinking right into the center of the target on the other side of the field.

dream lets out a quiet, impressed sound when a voice suddenly rings out.

"are you just going to stand there or do you want a go too?"

the stranger has turned to him, dark eyes watching dream. he's wearing armor, shining metal engraved with swirling patterns, and there's a quiver of arrows on his back.

despite of it all, he doesn't really look like a warrior, thin silver chains dangling from his pointy ears, delicate rings adorning his fingers, his skin clear and his brown curls soft.

but dream knows that appearances can be deceiving.

fairies are some of the most dangerous fighters, and it's obvious that the guy standing in front of him is no exception. the skill he just showed proves that.

dream lets out a chuckle, stepping closer.

"thank you, but no. bow and arrow aren't really my weapon of choice, and after what you just did, i would only embarrass myself."

the stranger's lips quirk up into a little grin and he gives dream a small nod.

"very well." he replies before continuing, "if you don't mind me asking, are you here for the meeting?"

his head tips to the side curiously, exposing the long line of his neck, and dream has to collect himself and his thoughts for a moment before he can answer.

"i am. and even though i wish the reasons for my visit were different, it's nice to be here. i've always had an appreciation for the seelie court's... beauty."

and because he spends too much time jokingly flirting with his friends and because the stranger in front of him truly is gorgeous, dream can't stop himself from giving him a smirk and dragging his eyes up and down the length of his body at the last word.

it makes the fairy blush, a soft laugh escaping him.

"i appreciate the compliment. it-"

he's interrupted by a strong breeze sweeping over the range, the leaves of the surrounding trees rustling loudly.

the stranger lets out a sigh, sending dream an apologetic smile.

"i'm sorry to cut our conversation short but i think this was my sign to get back home. it was nice meeting you. i wish you a good night, warrior."

dream nods in response, stepping aside but not before giving the stranger a soft grin.

"good night, beautiful."

and with that, he leaves, just barely catching the shy smile on the fairy's face from the corner of his eye.

he sleeps soundly that night.

the next morning starts with a big breakfast before everyone assembles in one of the seelie court's big courtyards.

dream lets his eyes wander over the crowd, happy when he spots some familiar faces.

there's karl, a time traveller, and bad, a half demon. tommy, tubbo, niki, and jack are there too, the small coven of witches huddled together in a corner, and he thinks he even catches sight of fundy, most likely here to represent the interests of the hybrids.

a loud trumpet pulls his gaze away from the people and up to the balcony a few meters above, and his breath hitches when it lands on the stranger from yesterday.

he's standing next to an older blond man, dressed in white and light blue chiffon, the fabric fluttering and flowing around his body. there's even more jewelry decorating his ears and fingers, but the thing that really catches dream's eye is the delicately crafted silver circlet resting atop his brown curls.

distracted by the sight and his own surprise, dream almost flinches when the trumpet suddenly rings out again, followed by a loud, faceless voice.

"please welcome our hosts: his majesty, king philza, and his highness, prince wilbur."

dream blinks.

what?

his gaze flits back to the balcony, and his heart almost stops when he finds wilbur's attention already on him, smile bright.

but there's mischief twinkling in his eyes, something that's only emphasized by the wink he sends dream.

dream resists the urge to bury his head in his hands.

shit. shit shit shit shit shit.

he flirted with the fucking fairy prince.

#i should be finishing my fic but i got this idea yesterday and i just needed to write it #now that it's out of my system i can return to what i was supposed to be doing lol #dreambur #c!dreambur #madduo #au ideas #sugar rush ride au

[doomedandstoned]

Enchanted Paris Doom Trio WITCHORIOUS Premieres Astounding Full-Length

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

This debut LP by WITCHORIOUS is without doubt one of the finest doom metal offerings the year has given us. Antoine Auclair (guitar/vocals), Lucie Gaget (bass/vocals), and Paul Gaget (drums) have assembled a thoughtful collection of 10 tracks that draw upon the themes of classic horror and traditional doom metal, with prolific drumming, sinister guitar, and surreal atmosphere.

We begin with the ominous "Monster," which is surely the musical equivalent to a brooding stormfront. Each instrument brings its unique powers to the whole, generating a menacing sound that got me slow headbanging immediately. Vocals have the same Medieval gruff as classic Morgoth, full of prophetic dread.

The roars of "Catharsis" approach Domkraft levels of fierceness. With male and female vocals in the chorus, the effect is mesmerizing. The track following this is deeply atmospheric, with its fuzz-filled intro and repeated arpeggios forming a thick haze that bedazzles the listener into a strange, trancelike state. Appropriate considering this is "The Witch."

"Blood" is deliriously good. Again the riffs are on point! You'd have to go back to BelzebonG's Sonic Scapes & Weedy Grooves to find riffs this pure. The beat never lets up; it's a steady driver all the way through, keeping the narrative moving forward. Verses feature another lusty vocal performance and the chorus has tons of heart. I was happy there was room for a guitar solo.

"Eternal Night" has an unsettling vibe akin to the band Demon Lung. When the solo erupts towards the end, it sounds like something between a siren and a sax, but it could be a guitar effect or synthesizer. Whatever it is, it's effective in bringing a chilling climax to the moment.

Once again, it's the vocals that make a song like "Sanctuaire" so convincing -- and this is to say nothing of the incredible drumming, subtle basswork, and atmospheric guitar play. Even the sequence of "heys" at 4:31 were dripping with the angst of instability, making me think of Kurt Cobain and Mark Arm.

After a brief interlude ("Amnesia") we're ushered into the album's final three songs. The vocal attack on "Watch Me Die" is just savage, utterly convincing, and the doomy guitar chords match the mood. "To The Grave" is chill by contrast, with acoustic strumming that allow Antoine and Lucy to vary their vocal delivery and range, as they're not competing with loud instruments.

Finally, comes "Why" (the longest track after "Sanctuaire" at 7:20). This one has a grooving bassline, bittersweet riffmaking, slappin' drums, and clear, sincere singing with a certain Ozzyesque mystique. The guitar solo is soulful and grungy with plenty of stoner sway.

Witchorious drops Friday, February 16th on vinyl, CD, and digital via Argonauta Records (get it here). Don't pass this one by! Stick it on a playlist with Amen-Ra, Beastmaker, Lord Vicar, Famyne, and Purple Hill Witch.

Give ear...

SOME BUZZ

Witchorious is a doom metal band from Paris, France. Founded in 2019, the trio is composed of Antoine Auclair (guitar/vocals), and brother and sister Paul (drums) and Lucie (bass/vocals) Gaget. Their first two singles “3 AM” and “Evil Creature” came out of darkness in 2020.

Their music blends bluesy riffs inherited from Black Sabbath, aggressive sounds supported by fuzzy bass lines in the likes of Electric Wizard, and intense atmospheres inspired by bands like Amenra and Mastodon. All this led by adventurous and solid drums, spawning modern chaotic doom metal songs with enraged vocals. Between screams and whispers, Antoine and Lucie’s voices have us travel from incantations to outpouring of despair. Each track will immerse you in the darkness of your mind, where you will keep looking for answers.

Dying to meet their audience, Witchorious played more and more gigs and opened for The Wytches in Paris and Westill Fest in November 2023. Witchorious’s debut album will be released in February 2024 through Italian label Argonauta Records. The album was recorded in Paris at Studio Sainte-Marthe by Francis Caste and contains 10 tracks that address psychic duality, human vice, and the inevitable fate of the world along with hellish fuzzy riffs.

Says the band:

"Initially, after the release of our double single, we were thinking of releasing a first 5-track EP. However, the health crisis dragged on and writing, like most bands, became our main activity. The writing of the album took around two years, with numerous arrangements on the tracks. The initiative for a track usually comes from a guitar riff and the vocals, and then we get together and each of us adds its own touch. We transform the song, the rhythm, its structure, until it sounds ‘Witchorious’. We wanted to create more modern sound and structures to avoid doing doom that we’ve all heard before.

"In the lyrics, we express our frustrations and self-awareness. The album deals with mental conflicts and psychological distress, the influence of human beings on their environment and on others... We were also keen to develop the character of the witch, who for us is a figure that represents oppressed minorities, whatever they may be. The witch frightens, disturbs and revolts, but at the same time fascinates and survives through the ages. We’ve had a lot of fun with the clichés of the genre, particularly around everything religious and satanic, because it creates an occult atmosphere that we love.

"This album is a concentration of our influences, a first step towards showing who we are, what our sound identity is, and what we have to say. By the time the album was recorded, the songs had really matured, and we fully focused on sound and ambiance. Francis helped us emphasize the evil aspect of the compositions, to make the whole thing sound really haunted."

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Debuts #Witchorious #Paris #France #doom metal #occult rock #Argonauta Records #HeavyBest2024 #D&S Reviews #Doomed and Stoned

[scarlettjohanssons-mistress]

The harmony of fashion - part 2

Warnings: Smut and therefore 18+ only, first Meetings, fix-It, fluff, smut

Word count: 1.3 K

Pairing: Cruella x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Reader is the lead singer of a local London Rock group, and right in the scene where Cruella and the others are escaping from the police after the parade, Cruella and Reader accidentally bump into each other.

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Emma Stone characters masterlist]

Part 1 HERE

"I will need all the information that can be obtained from the party" I spoke, while petting Buddy"I want to know about the guests, even who will clean the floors"

"That's a piece of cake," Jasper spoke up.

"Maybe, if we're lucky, someone might help us, from the inside"

"Help us? What do you plan to do?"

“Wait, and you will see”

——————————————————————————— 

The world was a small place, and London, it seemed, much smaller. 

Turns out, the baroness's trusted bartender had to cancel she because of his little tooth extraction surgery, so the witch hired the star bartender of ' The Camden Assembly Pub', who happened to be T/N 

Jasper innocently gave me the address of the place, but, I didn't even read the damn paper, I just had to walk a little further than Regent's Park, and there I could see her.

Now, she wasn't wearing a nice Rockstar outfit , she was just wearing black pants, a black blouse, and a brown apron; her hair was pulled back, and she only had a light layer of makeup on, leaving a few small spots visible to the naked eye. 

She was at the back door of the place, talking and laughing with another boy, while they both smoked a cigarette, until she finished it, threw the butt away, stepped on it, took off her apron and handed it to the boy. With a quick movement, she reached into the room and took out her bag and a coat, put on the garment and let down her hair, letting the black sea cascade down her back, she said goodbye to her friend and began to walk.

I tried to follow her, discreetly and at a great distance, but, we didn't have to walk far, apparently, being a bartender by day and a rock star by night, makes good money, since the woman lived near the famous ' Road ST. John's Wood Ter'. 

The woman was going to open the door of a large building, a group of apartments, so I quickened my pace, until I reached her side, just as she inserted the key into the lock. 

"Will go up?" 

“Yes, please” I tried to make my voice hoarser, so I could sound like a man, but the tickling of the fake mustache just tickled me, making the task more difficult. 

"Come in please" 

She closed the door and got on the old elevator, so, I went up after her, she punched number 5, making us both wait for the elevator to reach the floor. 

“When were you going to tell me it was you?"

 She, still leaning against the wall, turned her head to see me, and gave me a smile. 

"I just wanted to see, how long it took you to find out if it was me" 

“Honey, I identified you from Regent's Park. That mustache is very false to me” she mocked 

Carefully, I plucked my mustache, and passed my hand over the area, to try to alleviate the burning a little, causing her to laugh. 

"Thank God you noticed, I thought I'd have to have this dead rat on my face any longer." 

The elevator reached its destination, and she got out, but she turned to see me 

“Are you coming, or what?” 

I followed her to her apartment. 

It wasn't as big as ours, but she kept it well lit, and very organized, full of plants and paintings. 

"Do you want some tea?" 

"No, really, I'm here for my coat." 

"Oh sure, I have it in my room, wait here" 

She tried to get up, but I grabbed her wrist, causing her to stop. 

“I accompany you” 

We both got up, and walked to her room. 

She took out her coat, she was going to hand it to me, but, just as she was going to take it, she quickly pushed it away. 

"Eh, but don't you think I deserve a reward, for taking such good care of him?" 

“Of course you deserve a reward” 

She tried to hang her coat on the same door of her closet, but, I took it from her hands and with a quick movement, I threw her back to the bed, and with grace, I climbed on her lap 

“You are such a good girl” 

I started kissing her neck, tickling her 

"Wow, I didn't think you were such a talkative woman in sex" 

I made her get up, so we could both take our clothes off until we were in our underwear. 

"You're always too loud" She unhooks her bra and I throw it somewhere in the room. 

"Yes, but I'm very quiet when it comes to sex" it was her turn to take off my bra and throw it away 

"Mm, it will be perfect, you will remain silent, like the perfect submissive that I want you to be, while I praise the good girl that you will be" without finesse, I pulled her panties, and I lay on top of her, putting a nipple in my mouth, making the poor woman hold a small gasp in her mouth 

" Shh , no" I try to move away, but I stayed firm giving a light bite to the nipple, causing her to let out a squeal "my walls are almost paper, the neighbors..." 

Without warning, my right hand went straight to her center and I started playing with her clit, causing Y/N to lose track of the conversation and roll her eyes. 

"The neighbors will have to listen to how you shout my name, over and over again" she tried to suppress her moans, but some escaped her "honey, I barely touched you and you're already soaked. Say it's just for me” Y/N tried to turn her head and bite the pillow, but I grabbed her chin and forced her to look into my eyes “tell me you're soaking wet just for me” 

"I'm soaked for you" she whisper between small and light moans 

"That's my good girl" 

I inserted two fingers into her vagina, causing her back to arch and her mouth to open, just a little. 

"You look so beautiful like this, full" I spoke, my body lowered until my mouth was in front of her vulva, so I carefully gave her a long lick, to savor her "And you taste so good" 

Mixing my fingers in and out of her hole, along with my mouth and tongue sucking and licking her clit, Y/N cums , slowing my movements down to a complete stop and seeing her face, with a light sheen of sweat, flushed cheeks, and slightly irregular breathing 

"How was that?" I got up, kneeling on her 

“It was amazing” Y/N got up a bit, sitting down 

“This is where, you can thank me” 

With a quick movement, she changed our positions and quickly began to caress my clit, through my panties, causing me to gasp. 

"Why give thanks, if I can use my mouth for something better"

She lowered until her mouth connected with my clit, sucking a little.

"Wow, who knew a street rock star couldn't pronounce 'oral sex'" she nibbled lightly on my clit making me yell "Ahhh"

——————————————————————————— 

Y/N was a great caretaker after sex. 

She took care of letting me use her shower, lend me her clothes, and even surprise me by taking me a cup of coffee, delicious French sweet bread and a good talk pending. 

"I don't know you're supposed to be dead?" asks Y/N while giving me a beautiful smile, crossing her legs and bringing her cup closer to her delicious mouth 

"Yes I am" I tried to pout "but it just makes me enjoy my anonymity more" we both drank her fantastic tea "Y/N I have a plan”  

"Of course you do, you're an intelligent woman... And I like intelligent women" Y/N flirted as she placed her hand on my thigh, giving soft and light massages "But..." he approached my ear and whispered " What do I get? 

“A night of luxury, chaos and a possible death” 

"The thing about death doesn't convince me at all" 

"It won't be yours" 

"Good. But I'm still not convinced." She gave my neck a long lick. 

“How about more nights like this?” It was my turn to bite her bare shoulder 

"Well, where do I sign, princess?" 

Note:

I hope you enjoy this.

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

#cruella x reader #cruella x fem!reader #cruella #cruella 2021 #cruella imagine #lgbtq #female x female #cruella de vil

[camlovesheroes]

King of Mischief (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3 (Defenders of the Universe)

Word count: 2.7k

T/w: This chapter contains several acts of violence, implied smut, arguments and mentions of sharp objects, read at your own discretion.

Author's note: This chapter is a bit short and meh, I apologize TvT But I promise the next chapters are gonna be good!

Amora tapped on the table as she was surrounded by her associates, many of them are rogues from each realm, dreaming that someday they’ll be able to rule their respective worlds.

“What are we stalling for Amora? We have Asgard in our hands, the power of the universe lies in our hands.” Lorelei, her sister, questioned why they weren’t attacking Midgard already.

“It’s not as easy as it is sister.. They’ve teleported to Midgard, they must have a plan.” The Enchantress answered.

“Who cares? They’re fighting against us, supreme beings! Midgardians will never be able to stop us.” The red headed Asgardian rebutted.

“They are not just a bunch of Midgardians, Lorelei. Midgard houses a few of the most powerful sorcerers in this cosmic universe..” Amora paused.

“And they also have three of the Infinity Stones in their possession.” She slammed her fist on the marble table, cracking it in the middle.

“Well then, shall we look for the other three? We’ve already conquered the whole universe, it would be an easy task.”  One of the rogues from Niflheim suggested.

“No. Let’s not steer from our original path shall we? We need to hatch a plan on how to handle those Midgardians, the so-called Avengers.” Amora sneered.

“So what are your plans?” Lorelei inquired.

“We’ll attack them in waves, make them feel a false sense of security. Use our abilities to ignite fear out of them.” The woman smirked evilly.

Back in the Avengers facility, the team had finally assembled and you had the pleasure of meeting with Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme Wong and Wanda Maximoff. The team knew that Amora’s army’s strongest weapon was their magic and sorcery. They used it to manipulate and control beings, turning warriors against their own people.

“Alright, the plan is to use the resources and manpower we have in Kamar Taj, Strange and Wong will take the lead there. Wanda will use her powers to put the Enchantress’ men under her spell. We are lucky enough that she values quantity over quality.” Tony laid out the plan.

“She would recruit any mage or sorcerer that she sees, regardless of how powerful they are, some might be weaker than others.” Loki added.

“So it’s all for show?” Clint asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Oh no no no.. They’re like a swarm of ants, the bigger the colony, the stronger they are. Let’s not rule out the chances that she could be generating her powers for her army too.” Thor intercepted.

“Or it’s the other way around, she absorbs their powers and knowledge to be stronger than before. That is why she invaded those realms first before Asgard.” You spoke quietly.

“Or that too..” Thor turned to look at you, so did everyone else.

“Don’t let her or Lorelei get close to any of you. Lorelei could enchant you to go to Amora with her voice while Amora could imitate your powers just by a single tap.” You rolled your pearl earring in your finger, a habit that you do when you’re deep in thought or nervous.

“Is there any way we could protect ourselves from being enchanted by these witches?” Tony turned to look at Strange, Wanda and Wong to which they shook their heads.

“The only way you could protect yourself from enchantments is by having a strong mind.” Strange explained but then you remembered.

“Actually, you can. But it’s not strong.” You stood up. “I can cast a spell on all of you so you get protected from mind manipulating hexes but it only works when you’re against ordinary mages and less experienced sorcerers. It wouldn’t be potent enough to withstand Amora’s powers.” You bit your lip nervously while glancing at Loki.

“I’ve never heard of such a spell before.. Wong?” Stephen Strange was skeptical.

“Well, it’s a local spell from where I’m from. Only members of the Oralfian royal family knows about this kind of magic, an ancient mystical practice.” You fidgeted.

“Let’s test it out shall we? Hey kid, come on over here.” Tony called out to Peter Parker, the youngest in the team.

“What is it Mr. Stark?” The boy looked curious and innocent, you sympathize with him, such a young man fighting such an enormous battle.

“Sit down here and let us test something out alright?” Tony pushed Peter down on a seat.

“Okay Tinkerbell, work your magic.” You nodded and confronted the sitting boy.

“This is going to feel a little bit cold.” You forewarned Peter of the sensation he was about to feel before you began placing your hands on the side of his temples, not touching him.

For a mere minute, your hands began emitting a golden glow that began to seep into Peter’s head.

“It’s done.” You announced.

“Wanda.” Tony looked at the Scarlet Witch and shook his head to where Peter was. The woman took over your spot and touched his head, she started with some gentle magical force to look into his mind but it wasn’t working. Next, she began testing on enchanting Peter to do what she wanted by flaying her fingers next to his head. Didn’t work either. Then, she went with a bit more force and pushed her magical forces into his mind.

“He’s scared. And hungry.” Wanda claimed before retreating. “Well, that took quite a lot to get into his head.” She said as she smiled at you.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Strange looked at you in awe.

“Okay, so it actually works! I have to ask though, will the magic wear off?” Tony clapped his hands together.

“Not really, it wears off when somebody finally gets into your head. Or if the spellcaster.. Dies.”

You answered truthfully, you could sense Loki’s head whipping towards your direction at the mention of your death.

“But that’s not going to happen. I’ll make sure that every single one of us comes out of this war alive.” You reassured the whole team, but really, you just wanted to erase Loki’s uneasiness.

Your husband made his way to you and held onto your arm. “Excuse us for a second. Darling, a word.” He took you away from the team and to the balcony.

“Wow, for a God of Mischief and a trickster, he sure cares a lot for his wife.” Nat said to Thor.

“Oh believe me. She means the world to him. Changed him into a better man.” Thor looked at the two of you. He couldn’t believe how much his brother had changed ever since you two got married.

“All a man needs is a chance.” Steve joined in.

You were pulled off to the balcony by Loki, he didn’t look pleased.

“What do you mean if the spellcaster dies? You are not considering yourself to join the war are you?” Loki knitted his eyebrows.

“I’m not considering, I am joining the war, Loki.” You scoffed, the nerve of this man trying to stop you from battling for your universe’s future.

“You can’t. I forbid it.” He told you.

“You forbid me?” You couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief. “Who are you to forbid me?!” You fought back.

“I AM THE KING OF ASGARD! And no queen of mine shall partake in a gruesome war!” His voice was stern and he yelled out. His volume was loud enough to be heard through the glass of the sliding door that separated you two from the team.

“Uh oh, marital strife..” Tony grimaced as the Avengers looked at your argument.

“Yes, yes! Scream and shout to the world! YOU ARE THE KING OF ASGARD! Oh how you take pride in your position.” Your heart was beating as fast as your anger was rising.

“You keep reminding me of your title Loki.. But you forgot, that I am the Queen of Asgard. The sole survivor of Oralf’s royal family. And I shall not stand back and spectate while all of you are sacrificing your lives to protect the universe.” Your voice quivered with emotion.

“If I were to die, let me die while fighting. Let me die by your side Loki. I am not letting you fight alone.” You held onto both of his arms.

“Please..” You tried your best to hold in your tears, your hands moving to hold his. Loki’s eyes softened at the sight of your glossy eyes.

“But I must keep you alive.. I need you alive, Aurelia.” He held your hands up and clasped it in between his.

“Then keep me alive on the battlefield. What if I’m not there to help you and I lose you? Life would only mean pain and agony for me.” A single tear rolled down your cheek.

“Please don’t cry..” It crushed his heart seeing you cry, he didn’t want to see you hurt, not like this, not in any way.

“Let me fight with you. For Asgard, for the Nine Realms, for us.” You sniffled. Loki was reluctant to let you fight but he knew better than to stop you. So with a heavy heart, he nodded and kissed your hand.

It had been a few days since your argument with Loki and he had been more supportive of you whenever the team would have meetings to organize the plans. All of you couldn’t guess or estimate when the Enchantress and her soldiers would strike Midgard but every so often you would get false alarms of unidentified objects in the sky. This wasn’t a coincidence, Amora had it all sorted out, she would send boulders and sometimes dead Asgardians down to Earth to throw all of you off. The locations of these items and bodies were random and scattered all across the world and it was starting to freak humans out.

Tony insisted on having the S.H.I.E.L.D agents handle these fallouts instead of the Avengers, yet a lot of news channels and papers had begun questioning why they weren’t there to investigate. Tony had his reasons, the biggest reason was because he knew something bigger was coming and he needed all the team members to stick together and fight when the war breaks.

While waiting for Amora to engage in battle, you were keen on training to sharpen your combat skills. Your sparring partners now included Lady Sif, Natasha, Wanda, Bucky, Steve and of course, your spouse. 

You grunted when Wanda had you locked up in her conjured chains, you struggled hard and attempted to blast your powers out to break free. This was always the difficult part of training for you. Your combat skills had improved and you could fight almost every person you’ve sparred with except for Loki and Wanda. They were both knowledgeable about magic and mystic arts, combining fighting skills with them, they were basically undefeatable.

“Come on Aurie! Summon your powers! Break free!” Bruce cheered for you.

“I.Am.Trying!” You clenched your fists and tried to push out your powers to destroy Wanda’s mystical chains but to no avail. You were losing your energy and your golden glow began to dim down.

“Alright, that’s enough. Let her go Wanda.” Loki saw how you were in distress and he couldn’t look at it anymore.

“Oh come on Loki, she can make it! I could feel her.” Wanda pleaded to him, wishing he would give you just a little more time.

“Let.Her.Go.” Loki’s voice was low but Wanda knew that he was getting furious so she immediately got rid of the chains. You fell on top of the padding and groaned.

Your husband walked towards you, lending his hand for you to take. You gave him a glare, he’d always put your training on a halt whenever he sees you struggling.

Standing back up, you stretched a little bit. “You really shouldn’t meddle with my training. How am I supposed to improve my skills if you interrupt me every time you see me struggle?” 

You sighed deeply, you knew he meant well but his carefulness wasn’t helping you. 

“I do not wish to see you get hurt when Amora could come attack us at any minute. It’s dangerous.” He explained and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what’s more dangerous? If I can’t defend myself when I get attacked by Amora. Now please, promise me that you won’t stop my training anymore.” You walked out of the training gym with him.

“Fine.. I promise.” He promised while rolling his eyes.

“And no crossed fingers!” You playfully punched him on the side of his arm.

“Yes, yes..” He pulled you closer by the shoulder and you leaned your head against him.

“Well, since we’re all sweaty.. I propose a shower? Together?” He squeezed your shoulder and gave you a naughty grin.

“Always so mischievous, even in these times.” You pinched his side while chuckling.

“Not my fault my wife looks so enticing after training.” Scrunching your nose, you couldn’t resist how cheeky Loki is. He’d always find a way to make up to you after pissing you off or making you upset.

You two made your way towards your quarters, thankful that each room had its own bathroom, for you didn’t want to disturb the others who were living in the same building with all the noise you and Loki would make.

After the long shower with your husband, you sat on the bed and dried your hair up, smiling as you saw him get out of the shower after you. His hair was wet, towel draping around his hips and he looked so fresh.

“Why are you smiling like that? Admiring your extremely dashing husband?” He smirked as he pushed you down on the bed.

“Loki! We just did it in the shower.” You whispered, a big smile on your face.

“That was round one my darling. We’re off to round two.” You laughed at your husband’s insatiable desire for you.

“Am I really that irresistible to you? Or are you just being a horny devil?” You cupped his face.

“You’re both, my Sigyn.” Sigyn? That’s new, the nickname made your heart swell. The name was only to be used when a man values his woman greatly. It meant ‘victorious girlfriend or companion’. It also symbolizes loyalty, compassion and faithfulness in a woman. A word to never be used lightly.

“I’m your Sigyn?” You asked, unsure of what he meant by that pet name. For all you know, it could’ve been a slip of tongue.

“Yes. And I mean it with my whole heart.” He pecked your nose.

“You’ve made a new man out of me Aurelia. You gave me a new goal in life, I was always seeking for my father’s reassurance but you showed me that the only reassurance I needed was from myself. You taught me to embrace myself, I do not have to be like Thor. Even if I am the opposite of him, I am still his equal.” He affectionately gazed at you. His blue eyes and dark wispy lashes, penetrating into your soul.

“I lov-” Right before he could utter those three words, sirens began blaring, knocking you two out of your romantic daze.

“Attention to all Avengers, suit up and report to the headquarters. I repeat, suit up and report to the headquarters immediately!” Steve’s voice was heard throughout the building.

You quickly changed into your combat clothes, it matched Loki’s color scheme but it was designed differently. It was a leather tunic that fitted your body perfectly with golden holsters that hold daggers and blades for your usage. You even wore a headpiece that could double as a weapon with the horns that pointed upwards. Putting on your boots, you looked at Loki worryingly. This was your first ever war and you hoped that this wouldn’t be your last.

Holding his hand tightly, both of you rushed towards the headquarters that was two levels above the quarters. Through the large glass windows, you could see a swarm of flying objects coming out of a dark portal in the sky. Prepare for your first battle.

Chapter 3 (smut scene)

Chapter 4

Taglist:

@clockblobber

#loki odinson #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki #loki fanfic #marvel #the avengers #god of mischief #thor odinson #thor #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fluff #avengers #tony stark #the enchantress #amora the enchantress #enchantress #lorelei #lady sif #heimdall #odin borson #wandavision #doctor strange #captain america #black widow #infinity stones #spiderman #peter parker #sorcerer supreme

[lexiklecksi]

Trick or treat

So I finally overcame my writer's block and wrote a short story for @flashfictionfridayofficial again! Admittedly, it's been a while. I hope you like this Halloween story. Also, I apologize for the high word count and hope you still read it. genre: mild horror, word count: 1150, tw: monster

The street is dimly lit by Halloween decoration. There are grimly looking pumpkins, fake cobwebs framing doors and windows, manically and mechanically cackling witches, skulls in all sizes, ghosts flattering in the wind from porches, plastic bats hanging from the roofs and skeletons emerging from fake tombstones in the gardens. Our whole neighborhood comes together to this yearly monster meet-up. It's like the happiest funeral you've ever seen!

Sophie kicks the gravel as we approach the last house in our dead-end street. It looks especially spooky and is not illuminated in red and orange light like the others are. "Are you sure you want to go in there?", Zack asks with a whining undertone. "Shut up, Zack! Don't be such a wimp!", I snap and shove him to the side. "Harriet, I told you we shouldn't have brought your stupid little brother to go trick or treating with us!", my best friend remarks. "Mum made me", I apologize while Zack collects his candy from the street. He turns around and announces: "I am not scared! You are!" I roll my eyes and catch my falling witch hat. "Alright, tag along!"

We are only a few feet away from the porch of the old house. Close up, it looks even spookier than from afar. The weathered wooden boards were once painted black and from the arch above the door real cobwebs are hanging down, glistening in our flashlight. As we set foot in the garden, we see yellowed bones lying around in the grass and even more cobwebs. "These tombstones look like they are made of real stone", Sophie notices and carefully taps one. Dust smears her hand and she shrieks back. "Are you scared?", my pesky little brother asks with a stupid grin on his puffy little face. "Don't be silly, I'm never scared", my best friend claims. I step into a green, slimy puddle and shake my foot free. Disgusting, but not scary yet. "Why isn't this house participating in the best Halloween decoration contest? They've got a lot going on here", Sophie wonders as she looks around. "I don't know. Actually, I don't even know who lives here. You never see kids playing here."

"Maybe they don't have kids? Maybe it's just an old married couple, and they're rarely going outside", Sophie thinks out loud. "Yeah, maybe ...", I reply, unconvinced. "Ah, look at that!", Zack yells out. My eyes follow his outstretched, trembling finger. "What do you mean, there's nothing there!" Zack's eyes widen, and he whimpers: "Don't you see it? It's huge!" Sophie and I squint our eyes and look up to the little circular window in the roof. It's pitch black, nothing there to see. Then, a pair of yellow eyes emerges from the darkness and stares right down at us. I take a step back and laugh it off. "Chill out, Zack, it's just more Halloween decoration." My little brother shakes his head so much, his glasses slide down to his snub nose. "No, Harriet, it's a monster!", he says with utmost conviction in his voice. Sophie laughs dryly. "Zack, monsters are not real. Go back home if you're so terrified. We never should have taken you with us in the first place!"

Zack looks hurt and for a moment, I feel sorry for him. "I am not scared", he mutters quietly. "Well then, let's go and knock on the door!", Sophie suggests, and walks swiftly up the stairs to the door. We follow in her footsteps and assemble before the big door. Sophie takes the silver handle and loudly knocks on the wooden door. "Trick or treat?", we all shout. Nobody comes to answer the door. It's still dark in the windows, no light switches on. "Maybe there's no one home?", I remark, but as I knock another time, the door slowly creaks open. "Alright then, let's go into the spooky house if that's what they want!" And before Zack or I can hold her back, she disappears into the entrance. "Harriet ... I don't want to go into the monsters' den!", my little brother says as he grabs my hand to pull me back on the stairs. "We have to fetch Sophie before she hurts herself bumping into furniture in the darkness", I reply reasonably as I hold up our only flashlight in front of us.

Slowly, we step into the house and are engulfed by darkness. "Sophie?" I shout out because I can't see her anywhere. "I'm back here!", her voice faintly reaches us. "Come here, you have to see what I found!" Trying to reassure myself and my brother, I grab his sweaty hand and drag him after me. We enter another dark room, where Sophie kneels on the floor in front of something huge. "What's there?", Zack asks Sophie, sounding even more terrified. "It must be some big head they forgot to put up for decoration." I flash our light at the thing lying before Sophie, and two big horns and a bedpost emerge in the room. "It's a bedroom", I realize as I scan the room with my flashlight. "There's the monster lying in its bed!", Zack cries out and hides behind my back. I take another step forward until I'm standing next to my best friend and look down. It's a very hairy head with brown fur, the gray horns growing out next to the furrowed brows. "It looks so real", Sophie says fascinated, and before I can stop her, she reaches out and traces one brow with her finger.

Slowly, the brows lift to reveal two glowing yellow eyes, staring at us with a confused look. We all scream in shock. Zack darts out the room, and I am very tempted to follow him and run away, but I can't leave Sophie behind. Surprised, she takes a step back and bumps into me. "That's odd", she remarks. "I've never seen something like this, it must have been very expensive", she remarks and tilts her head to get a better look. The realization hits me in waves. Zack was right. "Sophie ... I think we woke up a monster", I whisper into her ear. And I am proven right as the monster grunts and sits up in his bed. My best friend clutches my hand and we both scream. "We gotta run! It will eat us!", I cry out and try to push Sophie back to the hall, but she is petrified.

The monster opens up his gigantic mouth and three sets of teeth, dripping with green saliva, appear right in front of us. Finally, Sophie is able to move again, and we stumble a few steps back. We hear a deep guttural grunt from the bedroom as we flee to the front door. The floor boards are shaking as the monster demands in a weirdly high-pitched voice: "Why did you wake me up, girls? I need my beauty sleep!"

Tag list under the cut. If you read the whole story, thanks and let me know in the comments how you liked it!

Tag list: Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or - to be removed from my tag list. @matcha-chai @silversynthesis @heartofmuse @rhapsodyinblue80 @stoic-words @writingitdown @intothevortex @aubriestar @warriorbookworm @raevenlywrites @alex-a-roman @artsymagee @giantrobocock @theheightofdepression @writing-is-a-martial-art @beautifulimposter25 @a-musingmichelle @rhythmiccreatorofbeuty @eos109 @azriel-alexander-holmes

#flash fiction friday #Halloween #writeblrcafe #spooky short story

[plaidbooks]

Homegrown chapter 2

A/N: Here’s chapter two! It’s still just setting the story--Gallowglass will be here next chapter, I promise!

Tags: none

Words: 1454

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart

Lyra awoke on a soft mattress, linen sheets drawn to her chin. It took her eyes a few minutes to adjust, and when they did, she gasped. The room she was in was huge, with elegant furniture and gorgeous curtains hanging over the windows. This single bedroom was bigger than her whole cottage, and she knew she was within the castle walls.

The door opened then, and she tensed, trying to get her groggy mind to focus. The same, kind-looking vampire from before entered with a steaming mug. Lyra quickly sat up and the woman handed her the mug. It was warm and the drink smelt amazing—there were floral tones in it, she found.

“Some tea; it should help ready your stomach for food,” she explained.

Lyra took a sip, and though it was hot, it was delicious. “Thank you…. What is your name?” She waited a beat, then blurted out her own name, along with, “sorry, that was rude.”

The vampire smiled softly at her. “Marthe. Drink some more tea, then come to the kitchen to eat.”

Lyra nodded, taking another sip of the “tea”—it never occurred to her to be cautious of a strange drink given to her by a vampire; she seemed so trustworthy. Soon enough, Lyra finished the drink and gave Marthe the empty mug. Then Lyra stood on shaky legs and followed the woman to the kitchen.

“What did you want to eat? Eggs, sausage, bacon—”

“Eggs?! Like…animal eggs?!” Lyra exclaimed, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Marthe’s eyes scanned her face, giving her a sniff. “Fruits and vegetables, then.”

Lyra swallowed down the bile rising in her throat; she knew that she grew up isolated, but what else did she not know about this world? A world in which people ate animals and their offspring?!

Hopefully, I can meet with Diana, then get the hell out of here and back to my secluded forest, she thought.

Lyra entered the dining room—also much bigger than her cottage—and froze. Marcus and the matriarch vampire were at the table, as well as two witches and a daemon. Marthe continued into the kitchen, and the head vampire gestured for Lyra to sit next to her—she’d be sandwiched between the matriarch and Marcus, across from the witches and daemon. She sat nervously, eyes flicking between the four unknown creatures.

“I, uh, hi. My—my name is Lyra…” she started. Then, she cast her eyes downward in fear, waiting for the four to rip her apart.

It was silent before one of the witches replied, “I’m Emily, this is my partner, Sarah. The head of the house is Ysabeau, and the daemon here is Nathaniel. I believe you’ve met Marcus.”

Lyra nodded, glancing at them in turn, trying to commit all their names to memory; she wasn’t used to seeing this many people at once, let alone talking to them all.

“Where are you from?” the witch named Sarah asked. Emily gave her a look but said nothing.

“Um…the forest,” Lyra replied.

Sarah let out a sound of annoyance. “Which forest? What country?”

“I, oh, um…country?”

“You do know what country you’re from, don’t you? Or at least what town?”

Lyra gathered all the courage she had—they were asking questions to see if she was lying. She’d have to tell them her story, she realized: the visions in her dreams, her insistent magic, all of it. “I was born in a cottage in the forest, and that’s where I lived until I left to find a witch named Diana.”

It took Lyra upwards of an hour to tell the assembled creatures her story, what with all the questions Sarah and Marcus asked. Thankfully, Marthe set an array of fresh fruits and vegetables in front of her; some she knew, others she didn’t but ate anyways—she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Marthe also brought cold water, and Lyra drank her fill.

Even after she fell silent, the questions continued. Sarah seemed the most suspicious, not believing that Lyra didn’t know where she hailed from, even though Sarah could tell she wasn’t lying. Eventually, though, they finally ran out of questions, and Marthe ushered Lyra out of the room while they discussed her fate. She had Lyra follow her to an expansive bathroom, where her bag had been placed.

“Get yourself clean—you’ll feel refreshed afterwards—and dress. By then, we should know what to do with you,” Marthe said. Her tone was light, motherly, but Lyra still didn’t like that her fate was out of her hands.

Marthe left after that, and Lyra gazed into the gigantic mirror. She was filthy—well, filthier than normal—and her sundress was ruined with tears and holes. It’s been a long journey, she thought, and being clean again will be nice.

She turned, looking around the bathroom until her eyes fell on the giant, bronzed tub in the middle of the room. Unsure of what to do, she played with the knobs until water came out of the spigot. It was burning hot, and she yelped as she touched it. Marthe was instantly by her side again, and Lyra explained what happened with the water.

Again, Marthe’s eyes scanned her face, but she said nothing as she turned another knob. When she had Lyra touch the water this time, it was lukewarm. She stared in fascination at the knobs, wondering how cold the water could become.

“Do you have a cloth in which to wash with?” Lyra finally asked. She only noticed a large towel and a new sundress that seemed her size folded on the counter.

“It’s a bathtub, dear. You strip your clothes and sit in it, then wash with the soap.”

Marthe must be trying to trick her, right? “You sit in dirty water instead of dipping a cloth and washing yourself with clean water?”

The woman smiled softly. “That’s how warmbloods bathe, yes.”

Lyra looked at her as if she grew a second head. “…I’ll stick with the cloth, thanks.”

Instead of arguing, Marthe went to a cabinet and found a washcloth for her, along with soap that smelt of lavender. With another soft, yet concerned, smile, she left the bathroom, leaving Lyra alone once again.

She gently stripped out of her filthy dress, then dipped the washcloth into the water.

****

“We can’t just let some random witch join us,” Sarah exclaimed angrily.

Marcus sighed; this wasn’t the first time Sarah had said that since Lyra left with Marthe. “But both you and Em said she didn’t lie at all.”

“She didn’t,” Emily replied, cutting off whatever remark Sarah was about to make. “I do believe she’s genuinely here to help us—or at least Diana.”

“But how she knew to come here, when Diana was here months ago, is still a mystery,” Ysabeau commented. She had been silent while the rest of the creatures had questioned the witch, and now argued.

Marcus turned to Nathaniel, wanting to hear from all involved. The daemon caught his eye, then shrugged. “I’ve learned with Sophie just how odd magic can be. If she said her magic led her here, and both Sarah and Em say she’s not lying, then I believe her.”

“Truthful or not, can we really just let whoever waltz in here? Matthew made it sound more…protected than that,” Sarah asserted.

Marcus dipped his head towards her, acknowledging that she had a good point. But on the other hand, they were going to need all the help they could get to deal with the Congregation. Plus, the Knights of Lazarus—of which Marcus was now Grandmaster—was sworn to protect those who needed it. And this mysterious witch who seemed to know nothing of the world definitely needed help.

In times of tough decisions, Marcus did what his heart said. Slowly, he turned to Phoebe; his lover and his mate—who he had made sure was safely hidden in his bedroom during the questioning. She was already looking at him, as if knowing he’d turn to her. She gave him a warm smile, one that melted his heart.

“If you really want the Knights to make a difference, then having more creatures backing you is helpful,” she said matter-of-factly.

Marcus smiled back at her; god, he loved her. “You’re right; all of you are. The witch will stay and help, as she wishes. Sarah and Em can question her as much as they need to make sure she’s not here for any ulterior motives. And we tell no one outside of the chateau about her; if she doesn’t know who the Congregation is, there’s a good chance they don’t know her, either. She can be a surprise.”

#gallowglass de clermont x oc #gallowglass x oc #adow #adow fanfic #fanfic #my writing #homegrown