#oh wait no knights don’t mope | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

baepsaesbae · 3 years

Text

Masked Windfall

Pairing— Park Jimin x reader x Jeon Jungkook

Genre— SMUT, strangers to lovers au

Warnings— Switch!Jimin, Dom!Jungkook, Switch!reader, threesome, explicit unprotected and somewhat rough sex (stay safe my friends), double penetration (but like a bj and in your business at the same time? I’m bad with terminology I’m sorry), brief handjob, fingering, multiple orgasms, a booty slap, praise kink, slight derogatory kink, brief guy on guy action, nipple play, hair pulling, lots of kissing, teasing, swearing, PHEW I think that’s all? Please let me know if I forgot something

Word Count— 6k

Win(d)fôl: a piece of unexpected good fortune || After a bad breakup, you’ve given up on the prospect of a relationship, and on romance in general. Things take a turn once you get dragged to a mysterious party an encounter an alluring stranger.

A/N— Happy 2021~ I hope you guys enjoy this sinful fic! This was the first fic I ever wrote a threesome scene for and I was quite happy with how it turned out. Reviews and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

Ever since your breakup, it was as if love was in the air for everyone but you. Seeing happy couples everywhere served as a constant reminder of your bitter split with your longtime boyfriend. Your jerk ex-boyfriend dumped you right before the holiday season, even after you had planned to spend Christmas and New Years’ with him. Left dejected and inconsolable, you gave up on the idea of romance.

“You gotta stop moping around,” your friend, Chungha, tried to cheer you up.

Chungha was single too, but by choice. Boys (and girls) were constantly flinging themselves at her. She didn’t care for a relationship at this time, and would rather opt for meaningless one night stands.

“Come with me tonight!” she excitedly shoved a flyer in your face.

“Love is Out, Lust is In! An exciting one night event dedicated to adventurous singles who just want to have fun…” you read the flyer aloud, “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“Girl, you gotta stop feeling sorry for yourself! It’s not your fault that that idiot dumped you. To be honest, I always thought you could do so much better,” Chungha rubbed your back, “I’m not gonna force you to meet anyone new, but one night out can’t hurt. You might even have a serendipitous encounter!”

“Fine, I’ll go. But just to watch over you, I don’t want some creep to follow you around all night,” you caved in.

“I love my little knight in shining armor! This’ll be so fun,” she excitedly clung onto your arm, “I’ll pick you up tonight. Wear something sexy! I think the motif is black? Something appropriate for an anti-lovey dovey stuff.”

It was nearly time for Chungha to pick you up. You concluded that dressing up for the first time in ages was the right move. Maybe it was about damn time to move on from your past.

“Ohhh girl you look amazing!” Chungha praised as you stepped outside, “There’s no way you WON’T be getting dicked down tonight.”

“Oh hush, before I change my mind. I haven’t worn anything this revealing in forever,” you tried to hide your embarrassment.

You were wearing a black mesh top that revealed your bra (the one that makes your boobs look the best of course) paired with a flattering skirt. You felt sexy, but you didn’t have the confidence that you used to. Chungha also looked amazing, but that was a given.

“Where did you learn about this event?” you asked as she drove.

“My friends in the cabaret club told me about it,” she answered.

“You have friends who work in a cabaret club? That’s cool,” you mused as you gazed out the window.

“Not exactly. It’s just called that; it’s really just a group of girls who like to brunch on the weekends. The place we’re going to is known for being a bit secretive,” she smiled.

“What does that mean?” you start to get anxious.

“You’ll see!” she said gleefully.

The venue looked more like some millionaire’s mansion. The property was stowed away at the end of a sketchy road that was more akin to a beaten up dirt path. However, you saw that the lot in front of the house was littered with fancy cars; from G Wagons to Bugattis. The guests emerging from the vehicles all looked like celebrities.

“Where the hell are we?” you asked Chungha.

“Not quite sure, but I can’t wait to find out,” she was also awestruck.

Upon arrival, a gentleman stationed at the entrance requested for your invitation. Chungha pulled out a fancy envelope and casually handed it to him. It looked far more formal than the flyer she showed you earlier.

“Is this your plus one?” he gruffly asked.

“Yep,” Chungha linked her arm in yours.

“Very well. Here are your masks. Enjoy your stay,” he responded curtly.

“Masks? Chungha, seriously. Where the hell are we? I was picturing some dingy club based off of the flyer you showed me. Not to mention that I am drastically underdressed,” you admitted as you helped her put on her mask.

Chungha took the sparkly white mask that was adorned with feathers, which was fitting since it made her look even more angelic. Your mask was matte black accented with gold trimmings. It was far more elegant than the outfit you were wearing.

“Okay, I confess. I made the flyer. I knew you’d decline if I told you it was actually a swanky invite only shindig. I’m sorry for lying! I just really wanted to take you out,” she pouted.

Her puppy dog eyes worked on you every time.

“I forgive you. I don’t know if I’d ever get to experience something like this without you anyway,” you pulled her in for a hug.

“Aw yay! Alright, we’re gonna have a bunch of fun tonight! Also, you look hot. Don’t worry about what you look like. Plus, I have a feeling that people aren’t gonna care,” she says as soon as you both enter the foyer.

Your jaw dropped as soon as you saw the most sumptuous house imaginable. The foyer opened the house up to two grand staircases. The baroque decor screamed nothing but lavish expectations for the rest of the house. Chungha led the way into the large room past the staircases. The room was even more magnificent than the entrance, with white marble pillars creating the doorways.

The place was bustling with activity. Once you finished admiring the place, your attention turned to the guests. Some women were wearing seductive gowns, while others were only wearing beautiful (and probably extremely expensive) lingerie. All of the men were wearing suits or tuxedos. With the motley of outfits you observed, you figured what you were wearing really wasn’t that strange.

“Drinks ladies?” a waitress materialized from thin air.

“Yes please! Thanks,” Chungha quickly grabbed two glasses.

Your eyes widened as the waitress walked away. She was wearing a thin white sheet that was completely see through, and she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

You realized that this must have been their uniform, as the rest of the servers were dressed the same way. Both males and females.

“CHUNGHA!” a shrill voice cut through the air.

“Ah hey! Thank you so much for inviting me!” Chungha greeted the girl who called out to her.

“Of course! I live for these parties! I’ve never seen hotter men anywhere else,” the girl winked, “My uncle wants the guests to know that all of the servers are available. All the rooms upstairs are unlocked, unless they’re being used of course. I hope you ladies get a good catch tonight!” the girl quickly hugged both of you before scampering away.

“The servers are all available…? For what?” you shot a confused look to Chungha.

“I think you can figure that out,” she smiled sheepishly.

“Chungha, did you invite me to a freaking orgy!?” you cried out.

“You said you wanted to watch over me!” she playfully argued, “You’re already here, ___. You might as well try to enjoy yourself.”

“I guess I’ll settle for people watching,” you sighed.

“Oh! I see someone I know, I’ll be right back,” Chungha squeezed your arm before disappearing into the crowd.

After snatching another drink from a scandalously clad waiter, you retreated to an empty corner. You hoped to observe the guests unnoticed and unbothered. After about half an hour, you noticed an odd pattern. People would woo their target, disappear for a bit, and then return to continue the hunt. Their clothing was often disheveled once they resurfaced, but it didn’t really matter when they were bound to be torn off again.

“Bored?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“I’m thoroughly entertained,” you answered without taking your eyes off of the party.

“I think I could bring you more entertainment,” the man suggested as he gripped your hips.

“Get your hands off of me!” you push him off.

The assailant was an older man, at least 30 years older than you, and he seemed bewildered that you turned him down. His breath reeked of alcohol, and the dilation of his eyes alluded to his other indulgences of the night.

“I was promised that everyone at this party wanted to have some fun,” he angrily grasped your arm.

You cried out in pain. You were about to punch him in the face until someone else beat you to it. The man crumpled to the ground clutching his bloody nose.

“You little shit! I’ll find out who you are and ruin your life!” the man threatened.

“Mind your tone, worm. Or do I need to beat you senseless to remind you of your place?” your savior shot a baleful glare at the pathetic man who now cowered in fear.

“Are you okay?” your rescuer asked in a soft tone after the man was out of sight.

“Much better now, thank you. That guy was crazy. I’m ___,” you raised your hand for a handshake.

“I’m Jimin. Pleasure to meet you,” he delicately kissed your hand.

His intricate silver mask matched his hair. Even with his face half covered, you could tell that he was remarkably handsome. His dark suit made him look professional yet charming. You felt out of place standing beside him.

“Have you found a partner yet?” he asked bluntly.

“I’m not looking for one; I’m just here to take care of my friend. I don’t think I belong here,” you admitted.

“Why not? I know half of your face is hidden, but I’m willing to bet that you’re more gorgeous than half the people here. I like your style, it shows that you don’t really care for the norm,” Jimin gave you a thumbs up.

Even though it was meant as a compliment, it was off putting to know that you really did stick out like a sore thumb.

“Thanks,” you replied softly, “Have you found yours?”

“Nah, I hate big parties like this. Especially this one,” he shrugged.

“Then why are you here?” you figured that he’d have a line of women begging to sleep with him.

“Much like you, I’m watching over a friend. However, I have lost track of him. Where’s your friend?”

“I lost track of her too,” you laughed.

“If you don’t mind, could we go somewhere quieter? I’d love to get to know you better. Wait, not like that. I genuinely mean I’d like to have a conversation with you,” his flushed cheeks made him even cuter.

“Sure, lead the way, my noble hero,” you took his hand in yours.

It was a bold move, and you usually preferred to play it safe. Tonight was different. You’ll probably never see this guy again. Where’s the harm in flirting a little?

“Of course, my lady,” he played along.

He led you outside to the gardens. Fairy lights were strung up everywhere, giving the gardens an inviting aura. Tall shrubbery caught your eye. Jimin’s eyes followed your gaze.

“It’s a maze,” he said, observing your curiosity.

“This place has an actual labyrinth?” your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Wanna go explore it? I can’t guarantee you that we won’t get lost,” he offered.

“Yes please!” your eyes lit up.

Jimin couldn’t help but smile at your ebullience. How did someone so sweet end up in a twisted place like this?

“Can we take off these silly masks now? I hate wearing mine,” Jimin squeezed your hand.

“Sure, I don’t care. I apologize in advance if you go blind after seeing my face,” you jested.

You both took a moment to soak in each other’s true appearances. Jimin was more handsome than you could’ve dreamt. His individually delicate features attributed to an overall godly image that you had a hard time believing was real.

“Even more beautiful than I imagined,” Jimin acknowledged you with an approving smile, “Let’s ditch this stupid soiree,” he held out his arm for you.

Abandoning the masks on the ground, you practically dragged Jimin into the labyrinth. Corn mazes at Fall Festivals were fun, but this was the real deal. The hedges were at least 3 meters tall. No one would be able to find you if you actually got lost here.

“I think I heard that the trick is to keep to the right wall,” Jimin explained.

“Why don’t we take turns choosing which way to go? Unless you’re scared of getting lost,” you teased.

“Don’t get mad at me when we’ve been stuck in here for days,” he laughed.

You traversed the maze hand in hand with Jimin. The conversation began to flow naturally. Jimin listened to you intently and replied thoughtfully.

The night darkened as the party was left further behind. Normally, this eerie setting would frighten you, but your company made it bearable. Nothing but the moonlight lit your path now. You were too busy enjoying yourself to realize that you both were hopelessly lost.

“I hope you don’t mind me pointing out that this is the third dead end we’ve encountered in the past two minutes,” Jimin elucidated once you found yourselves staring at a green barrier yet again.

“Do you think someone will come to rescue us?” you started to panic.

“Definitely not tonight. Probably not tomorrow either,” Jimin answered brusquely.

“Let’s retrace our steps again. I might end up eating you if we really do get stuck out here,” you tried to joke.

“Eat me?” Jimin chuckled, “My dear, what if I end up eating you?”

“Sorry pretty boy, but I feel like I could easily beat your ass in hand to hand combat,” you laugh as you turn to leave.

Suddenly, your back was being pinned against a hedge. Jimin placed one of his hands on your shoulder and the other one on your waist.

“Let me rephrase that. What if I end up eating you out?” he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“I might enjoy that. However,” you quickly hook your leg around his knee to dead leg him.

Jimin’s surprise gave you the opportunity to knock him to the ground. You wrapped your right arm around his left arm, effectively pinning him down. You firmly gripped his left wrist with the same arm, rendering both of his arms useless.

“I don’t think you’re capable of doing that right now,” you fake a pout as your free hand wanders from his chest down to his crotch.

He was already somewhat hard when you began to palm him through his pants. You planted a soft kiss on his neck, sucking slightly before breaking contact. Jimin moaned at the sensation, his hips bucking up into your hand.

“What do you want, pretty boy?” you whispered in his ear as you cupped his length in your hand.

“Oh my god I want to fuck you,” he pleaded.

“You’re in no position to fuck anyone,” you reminded him, tightening your grip on his arms.

“I want you to fuck me, ___,” Jimin’s whines grew desperate.

“Is that so?” you say as you unzip his pants, “Here outside? On the ground? That’s a bit improper for a prince like you, don’t you think?”

His erection was fully exposed now. You slowly pumped him, pleased with his length. It took every bit of self-control to not immediately pounce on his dick. You traced your thumb around the soft tip, causing him to moan again.

“I don’t care. I just need my cock buried in you,” Jimin replied between moans.

“You’re so needy. I guess I could help you out,” you release him from your clutches.

Jimin instantly knocked you onto your back as soon as he was freed. He pinned you the same way you pinned him. You were both impressed and shocked that he learned how to do it already.

“That was a cheeky display. Very hot. I admit that I’ve never begged for pussy before, so props to you,” Jimin awarded you plaudits.

His free hand snaked its way down to your clothed pussy, pleased to find that you were already wet. He toyed with your clit through the fabric of your panties. He relished watching your squirm beneath him.

“It’s not so fun being pinned down, huh?” he kissed your neck in a similar fashion, except he ended his kiss with forceful suckling that was sure to leave a mark.

“I don’t know, it’s kind of fun,” you tried to keep your cool, but were failing miserably.

“Do you want me to touch you, my dear ___?” Jimin asked sweetly.

“Please do,” you exhaled with exasperation.

“You can beg better than that,” he admonished.

“Jimin, fuck me until I forget my own name,” you begged.

“You’ll only know my name by the end of tonight,” Jimin promised as he pulled your panties aside.

He slid in a finger to test how wet you were. You squealed with delight as he easily stuck in two fingers. He expertly curled them in you, grazing your g-spot. Your body tried to move to cope with the pleasure, but Jimin refused to let you go.

“You’re staying right here until I say so. I enjoyed going along with your power play, but you have to learn that I’m the one in charge,” he smirked.

His thumb circled your clit as he mercilessly fingered you. Your legs spasmed as your orgasm led a wave of euphoria across your body.

“Jimin, I’m--oh fuck, I’m cumming,” you cried out.

Jimin helped you ride it out, not slowing down his pace. However, he still didn’t slow down afterward. Your clit was oversensitive and tears began to well in your eyes.

“You’re beautiful when you cum, I want to see it again,” he praised as his pace quickened yet again.

It wasn’t long before your second orgasm hit. The bliss was more intense this time, causing you to cry out even louder. Jimin finally pulled his fingers out of you, then promptly popped them into his mouth.

“You taste like a delicacy,” he said after licking his lips, “You ready to take this cock?”

You nodded silently, as you were attempting to catch your breath.

Jimin aligned his hips with yours. He tantalizingly ran his dick along your wet folds. His tip eventually teased your entrance by barely entering before he took it out again. He loved watching your body beg to be fucked; your hips seemed to move by themselves as they tried to buck into him.

“Jimin, I can’t take this anymore. Stick it in already!” you yelled.

“So impatient,” Jimin chuckled, “Ready?”

“Yes!”

Jimin slowly inserted himself in you. You groaned at the feeling of finally being stretched out by his cock. His tip was fully inside you when a commotion interrupted him.

“We’re fucking lost bro,” a guy said.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you listened to me in the first place!” his companion retorted.

Jimin immediately pulled out and helped you up. He shoved his erection into his pants before leaning against a hedge to blend into the shadow.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to go in!” the first man bickered back.

“I said ‘I bet no one else is in there, let’s check it out’”, his companion explained.

“Okay, well now we’re lost. We haven’t even seen a single person since we’ve entered.”

Jimin took you by the hand and quietly led you out of the dead end. He didn’t know where the interrupters were, but he simply went in the opposite direction of their voices.

“We’re all alone now. Pull down your pants, Hobi,” you heard one of the guys say.

“Make me, Yoongi,” the other guy challenged.

“You won’t be so cheeky when my balls are in your mouth,” Yoongi replied, his voice suddenly lower and domineering.

The sound of clothes being ripped off mixed with passionate groans and wet noises grew further away as Jimin navigated through the maze.

“They sound like they’re having fun,” you broke the silence.

“That should have been us,” Jimin was obviously annoyed, “I’m gonna get us the fuck out of this goddamn maze. I swear to god, I’m going to dick you down properly tonight.”

You didn’t know which was more impressive: sheer luck or Jimin’s determination. Either way, one of those things (or maybe some of both) allowed both of you to finally emerge from the maze’s clutches.

Jimin dragged you back to the mansion while completely ignoring everyone who called out to him. You’re not surprised by his popularity; this man looks like he was carved by God himself.

The party had only escalated inside the mansion. Guests had started to forgo public decency altogether. You saw at least three explicit acts of fornication on your way up to the private rooms.

Once upstairs, you heard nothing but people deep in the throes of passion on the other side of just about every door. Jimin led you past them all, not even stopping in front of the ones indicated as ‘vacant’. At the end of the neverending hall was a large ornate wooden door. Its style clashed with the sleek marble that decorated the rest of the mansion.

Jimin whipped out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. You weren’t prepared for what was on the other side. Unlike the modern style that fitted the rest of the house, this room was decorated with wood.

The carved wooden furniture gleamed brightly due to their polish. The room itself was huge. A king sized bed awaited you at the opposite wall. Elegant curtains draped around the bed, reminding you of the beds royalty would use in movies. Even though the room gave off a cozy aura, it still boasted opulence.

“You like it?” Jimin asked once he saw you gazing around the room in awe.

“It’s beautiful. It feels like I’m in some Elvish Woodland King’s room or something,” you spoke honestly.

“That’s high praise,” he chuckled, “C’mon. I believe we have some unfinished business,” he pulled you onto the bed.

Jimin kissed your neck, peppering in nibbles that made you shudder. You slipped off your skirt and panties as he fondled your breasts. You helped him undress as you threw off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. You held back a gasp when his abs and toned chest were revealed. You figured he was fit, but you didn’t realize how fit.

His fingers found their way back into your pussy. Jimin sucked on your neck as his nimble fingers made you wetter by the second. Your back arched as your moaned in pleasure when his thumb played with your clit.

“I’m so fucking wet, Jimin,” you breathed into his ear.

“All for me, baby?” he cooed.

“Who else? Honestly, I’ve never been this aroused in my life,” you admitted.

“I’m happy I could change that for you. If you liked my fingers that much, let’s see what my cock can do for you,” he winked as he tugged off his pants.

Jimin spread your legs open as far as they could go. He didn’t have the patience to tease you this time. He filled your pussy up with the entirety of his cock. You relished the stretch; you’ve been waiting all night for this the moment you laid eyes on him.

Jimin began vigorously thrusting into you. The sound of his hips slamming into you coupled with the wet noises of your sopping pussy were drowned out by moans from both parties. Hearing Jimin’s grunts only turned you on more, and the same could be said whenever Jimin heard your melodic moans.

Jimin leaned over to makeout with you, his tongue dipping between your parted lips. You clawed at his back while you kissed him back with ferocious reciprocity. You were getting close to climaxing yet again.

“Jimin, I’m so--”

“Missionary? I know you can do better than that,” an unfamiliar voice interrupted you.

“Fuck off, can’t you see that I’m busy?” Jimin replied angrily, yet he never stopped fucking you.

You were so embarrassed that you grabbed a pillow to hide your face. One person seeing you like this was already flustering enough, but two? Although your mind immediately went to shaming you for being in such a compromising position, it was also kind of a turn on.

“Aw, is she shy? That’s cute,” the unfamiliar boy said.

“What do you want?” Jimin finally pulled out to actually hold a conversation with the intruder.

“I got bored. I figured I’d come in here and jack off or something. I didn’t think you’d be using it,” the voice got closer.

“Well, I am. So get lost,” Jimin growled.

Suddenly, the pillow that covered your face was yanked off. Looking down at you was a man whose beauty rivaled Jimin’s (though you didn’t think that was possible). The man had more of a boyish devil-may-care look. His long dark hair framed his face perfectly, as it showed off his sharp jawline. He traced a finger from your cheek down to your chin.

“She’s cute,” he gave Jimin an approving nod.

“Yeah, and she’s mine. Go away, Jungkook,” Jimin was getting more frustrated by the second.

“Yours? Are you guys dating already?” Jungkook raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“No, but--”

“Then it should be fine if I did this,” Jungkook cupped your face with one hand as he bent down to kiss you.

“Jungkook!” Jimin threw a pillow at him.

Jungkook chuckled as the pillow harmlessly bounced off of him. He deepened the kiss, and soon your tongues were swirling over each other. One of his hands wandered over to your breasts. He pinched your nipple, causing you to gasp into his mouth.

“Oh, she’s so sensitive,” Jungkook smirked, “Let me play with her after you.”

“She’s not a toy,” Jimin defended you.

“It’s okay,” you said softly.

“What?” both of the boys asked in unison.

“You can both use me...however you like,” you looked away shyly, bewildered at what you had just said.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Jungkook grinned.

“You’re too sweet for your own good, ___. Are you sure?” Jimin asked.

You simply nodded, not able to make eye contact with either of them.

“Alright, baby. Let me take care of you first. Jungkook, you can watch how a man properly fucks a lady,” Jimin glared at Jungkook.

Jungkook stripped down to his underwear as Jimin flipped you onto your knees. You moaned loudly as he started hitting it from the back. This position allowed him to penetrate you even deeper. You buried your face in the sheets in an attempt to muffle your whines.

“Nuh uh,” Jimin tsked as he grabbed a fistful of your hair.

He pulled your head up, exposing your lustful moans. He thrusted harder when he heard you. You opened your eyes to find Jungkook intently staring at you. Feeling cheeky, you made a ‘come here’ motion with one of your pointer fingers.

Jungkook happily obliged. Instead of directly kissing you, he licked up your neck, causing you to shudder. He sucked lightly on your neck as he once again played with your boobs.

“You’re not mad, Jimin?” he was surprised.

“She got wetter. Keep doing whatever you’re doing,” Jimin was lost in pure bliss.

Jungkook pulled you into another heated makeout session. You periodically moaned into his mouth whenever he tugged at your nipples. You whined as he broke the kiss.

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook stroked your cheek, “Wanna try something?” he asked.

You eagerly nodded. It was hard to think when one gorgeous man was making out with you and pinching your nipples, while another gorgeous man was roughly fucking you from behind.

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” Jungkook ordered.

You complied, opening as wide as you could. You watched Jungkook reveal his hard cock, which made your mouth water. His dick was bigger than Jimin’s, but less girthy. It had a little curve that made it look prettier for some reason.

“Want me to put it in? I’d love to see how deep you can take it,” Jungkook stroked his cock.

“I’ll take it all,” you said confidently.

Jungkook smiled at your determination. He lightly placed the tip onto your tongue. You twirled your tongue around it, making Jungkook moan with surprise.

“Maybe she’s not as shy as I thought,” he said to Jimin.

Jimin harshly spanked your ass, causing you to jerk forward. You heard him chuckle behind you.

“I love it when good girls go bad. They’re always the most fun,” Jimin reached his hand around you to play with your clit.

You almost lost control in your arms and fell forward when Jungkook grabbed you.

“You have to be a good girl and hold yourself up. We can fuck you from both sides if you do that, babygirl,” Jungkook ran his thumb along your drooly lips.

You propped yourself back up on your arms and opened your mouth again for Jungkook. He patted your head in approval before placing his dick back onto your tongue. He began pushing himself into your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Blink twice if it’s too much,” Jungkook instructed.

To his surprise, you managed to take in his full length. You kept gagging since Jimin was thrusting you forward, but that just made it feel better for Jungkook. Jungkook let you know that he was going to start face fucking you, to which you nodded in response. Well, as much as you could nod while his penis was in your mouth.

It didn’t take long for both of the both to boys to fuck you in unison. They rhythmically pulled out and thrusted into you at the exact same time. The intensity of everything turned you on so much, you could feel your juices running down your legs.

Your climax hit you like a truck. Your legs spasmed under you as you cried and gagged on Jungkook’s dick. The feeling of you cumming on Jimin’s cock brought him to the edge. Almost immediately after, Jimin pulled out and came all over your ass.

“Switch places with me,” Jungkook instructed Jimin, “You didn’t think you were done yet, did you?” he winked at you before pulling his dick out of your mouth.

Your sensitivity was through the roof. Jungkook didn’t give you any warning before he inserted himself in you. Jungkook went even deeper than Jimin, and your legs were on the verge of giving out.

“It looks like she can’t hold herself anymore,” Jimin observed with a sly smile.

“I guess I have to do all the work. Stupid slut,” Jungkook groaned, abruptly snatching your arms.

He chuckled when you momentarily fell forward onto your face, but he easily lifted you back up by pulling back on your wrists. You’ve never been roughly restrained like that before, but you wouldn’t complain. Jungkook’s powerful thighs slammed into you repeatedly.

You couldn’t begin to comprehend how sinful you looked: titties bouncing, messy hair, and a lustful expression that rivaled that of succubi themselves. Not to mention you were practically glowing from the film of sweat that developed over the night.

“I’m jealous that he’s kissed you more than I have,” Jimin pouted before he cupped your face.

Wriggling underneath you, Jimin made it easier for you to kiss him. His pillowy lips felt heavenly as he playfully fondled your breasts. He didn’t twist or pinch your nipples like Jungkook did. Instead, he massaged them in a way that still felt delightful.

“Dude, your junk is really close to mine,” Jungkook complained.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Jimin responded between your kisses.

Jungkook’s pace started getting sloppy. You could tell he was close just by his irregular breaths. The room was filled with lewd sounds. Jungkook’s grunts, Jimin’s moans, and your mewls all blended into a chorus of carnal pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Jungkook stuttered before pulling out.

You felt his hot juices splatter across your backside. You toppled onto Jimin when Jungkook let go of your wrists. Jimin just chuckled and held you in a warm embrace.

“You did so well, ___,” he praised before kissing your forehead.

“Was that your first threesome? If so, I’m impressed,” Jungkook cleaned you up with a warm washcloth.

“Mhm,” was all you could muster up to answer his question.

“She’s pretty out of it. Should she stay here for the night?” Jimin asked Jungkook.

“You’re offering to house her? You must have really loved her pussy,” Jungkook laughed.

“Shut up, I’m being serious. I don’t want to let her go back out there to those animals,” Jimin disclosed.

“Did she come alone?” Jungkook sat at the foot of the bed.

“She said she was watching a friend...I don’t think she mentioned who though. Hey, ___, darling, who did you come with?” Jimin gently questioned.

“Chungha,” you said meekly.

“Holy shit. Everyone has been trying to get with her all night,” Jungkook was shocked, “Yeah, I think her friend will be fine on her own. I can watch after her if you want.”

“By watch you mean fuck?” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Who’s to say I haven’t already?” Jungkook replied cheekily, “You’ve been the most fun I’ve had in a while though,” Jungkook affectionately began scratching your back.

Your eyelids were getting heavier with each passing moment. You instinctively clutched onto Jimin tighter. You’ve always been a cuddler when it was time to sleep.

“I’m gonna go, want me to lock the door?” you heard Jungkook say.

“Yes please. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jimin sent him off.

“Are you sleepy?” he asked while stroking your hair.

“Mhm. And hungry,” you said half asleep.

“What would you like to eat?” Jimin inquired.

“Grilled cheese,” you said without skipping a beat.

“Just grilled cheese? I could get you anything you want. Lobster, caviar, takoyaki, or maybe even steak?” Jimin was eager to take care of you.

“What time is it?” you asked groggily.

“Uh, a little past 1am.”

“It’s time for a midnight snack. And grilled cheese is the perfect midnight snack,” you nodded your head to confirm your reasoning.

“God, you’re adorable. Alright, a grilled cheese will be here soon,” he kissed your forehead again.

“You go make it?” you pouted, not wanting him to leave your side.

“No, I just texted one of the chefs,” he answered.

“Oh, you’re friends with a chef? That’s nice.”

“Somewhat? They work for my father.”

“Is your father the head chef?”

“No, he’s a businessman,” Jimin chuckled.

“Do you like business? Like your father?”

“No, I actually detest it. My father’s riches mean nothing if he can’t even love his family. He does ridiculous things to showcase his ‘love’ but I don’t buy it. Like this stupid fucking party that he throws every year. His excuse is that he’s providing any luxury money can buy. It’s all just bullshit,” Jimin sounded upset.

“This party? Your dad hosted it?” intrigue stirred you from your sleepy state.

“Yeah, this is the house I grew up in. This is my room,” Jimin admitted.

You were silent for a bit before responding, “I’m sorry your dad is a dick.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault. At least one good thing came out of tonight,” he squeezed you tighter.

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. Jimin retrieved the delivery. Never in a million years would you have thought that you’d be eating grilled cheese off of a silver platter. Jimin ate quietly beside you.

“I don’t know if this is too forward, but would you like to go on a date with me sometime?” he finally piped up.

“I literally can’t think of anyone that has seen me more intimately than you. Well, besides Jungkook. Of course, I’ll go on a date with you,” you leaned over to kiss Jimin’s nose.

“I guess the dating timeline is a little off since you’re spending the night here too,” Jimin laughed before stopping himself, “Wait, you are spending the night, right?”

“I have no idea where Chungha is, and she’s my ride,” you shrugged.

“You’re welcome to say here if you’d like,” he offered.

“I suppose I can clear my schedule for you,” you teased.

With a tummy full of grilled cheese, it didn’t take long for you to fall sound asleep in Jimin’s arms.

[9:24am from Chungha] BITCH! I heard rumors you slept with THE Park Jimin?! A different rumor said you slept with Jeon Jungkook??? Explain please???

[10:19am] What if I slept with both?

[10:20am from Chungha] NO WAY! Tell me all about it asap

“You good?” Jimin nuzzled your neck.

“Never better,” you smiled.

388 notes · View notes

wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Text

Love or Duty by GleefullyCaptainSwan - Chapter 5/8

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 5: A Dangerous Game

Emma spent the next few days locked away in her chambers, only leaving the room for supper. Anytime she came in contact with Killian, she would bow, keeping her eyes away from his, and retreating back to the safety of solace as soon as she was able.

It wasn’t that Emma had never kissed a man before, though she had never seen one naked, that much was certain. Seeing him strip down in front of her, exposing himself to her without remorse, had caused sensations she had never experienced before. She knew she never should have followed him into the water that night. She was never one to back down from a challenge and once he had pressed forward, she had no choice but to follow suit.

She knew that was ridiculous, she always had a choice. Yet with Killian, she wanted to rise to meet him where he was. He pushed her in a way that no other man had done before. She wanted to prove herself to him, to prove that she was more than just a Princess being offered to a man as a trophy to collect. Emma was capable of so much more; she was born to lead.

No one ever saw her that way, not her parents, she was sure that Liam saw her as a woman fulfilling her role, but Killian, he didn’t seem to back away from her strengths. He wasn’t afraid of her desires, her need to be more than she was thought to be. He understood her.

It was that understanding that should have sent her back to the castle instead of into the lake with him, baring her soul, her body, giving into the desire she couldn’t seem to contain for the man. She couldn’t wait to return home to be as far away as she could be from Killian Jones.

There was a knock on her door, and she jumped from the bed as Ruby entered the room. “Liam has returned. You will be expected at supper.” Emma groaned. “What has happened? You haven’t stepped out of this room for days. You won’t tell me why, or what is going on.”

“I’m fine, I just want to go home. I miss my parents.” She said, only half telling the truth as she spoke. That was better than fully lying to the girl, right?

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with the reason that Prince Killian has been moping around the castle? Did something happen between the two of you?”

“What are you insinuating?” She asked with her mouth wide open.

“Just that the two of you seem to be not getting along. I know he has been most disagreeable toward you recently. Perhaps he has not enjoyed needing to watch over his brother’s betrothed.”

Emma frowned, oh he was enjoying it quite well, if she were being honest, but since she was not, she instead shrugged. “How am I to know what is wrong with that insolent child, I’m not his keeper. Let us ready for dinner, I do not care to discuss such unpleasantries.”

“Of course, Ma’am.” Ruby conceded and set about braiding Emma’s hair and helping to stuff her into her gown for the evening. When she approached the dining hall that evening, she paused, gathering herself before she entered the room, a smile plastered onto her face.

“Good evening, Emma. I apologize for being absent as long as I was.” Emma bowed her head to Liam and smiled.

“What news of Locksley?”

“Much of the town was destroyed. We brought many people back with us to take shelter until repairs can be made. I am afraid I am only home to replenish supplies before I must return to assist with rebuilding the town.”

“Do you need assistance, I may not look strong, but I can pound a hammer better than any man.” She laughed.

“I would not see you put in any danger. Father plans to send you home in the morning, Killian will see to it that you and your maid arrive home safely. I shall come to Misthaven as soon as the village is safe again.”

Emma frowned, wishing he would allow her to help, the people of Locksley had been friends of her father’s. They were good people. But of course, she was only seen as a trophy that needed to be protected. She tried not to take offense, Liam was simply thinking of her safety, but she wished she could be seen as useful in ways that did not require her to be put on display or locked in a tower.

Across the room, Killian seemed to pace the wall, watching the two of them as they talked near the table. Emma could feel his eyes glaring into her. She purposely cast her eyes on his brother, not allowing his steely gaze to distract her from the man speaking to her.

“I do hope my brother was a good host in my absence. Mother says his mood has been quite gloomy.”

She laughed loudly, ensuring that the entire room could hear her, knowing that it brought a frown to the skulking Prince keeping eye on their conversation. She reached out and touched Liam’s arm, “Well your brother is a bit of a child, isn’t he? He’s probably still angry that I was able to tame his wild mare.”

His eyes widened in shock. “You rode Jolly?”

“Of course, I did. She was most agreeable, a fine horse indeed.”

He shook his head in amazement. “Incredible. No one has ever ridden her save for Killian himself. That does indeed solve the mystery of his malady. He can be insufferable when he is angry.” He said with a whisper and a laugh.

Emma laughed loudly again, keeping her hand firmly on his forearm, her fingers caressing his skin as she trained her eyes on his. “Indeed.” She agreed and turned toward his brother, watching as he stormed across the room toward the large banquet table.

Liam leaned his face toward her ear. “Do not worry, his bark is worse than his bite.”

Emma flushed, visions of her escapade in the water, feeling his mouth against her neck, his teeth grazing her earlobe. She suddenly felt faint and reached out to steady herself against Liam’s sturdy arm. “I’m sure it is.” She replied in a raspy voice.

“Let us find our seats, I am sure it is almost time for supper.” He said with a smile, ushering her toward the large seat near the table.

~*~

Killian felt the anger rising in his throat the longer he watched Emma parading around the room on his brother’s arm. He didn’t know why he was behaving so irrationally; this woman was marrying his brother. She was never his and one night, one error in judgement on her part would never change that. Liam would be King, Emma would be his Queen, and together they would save Misthaven and Jonesboro. Liam would be the savior once again, and Killian would be the pitiful idiot who sat pining for his brother’s wife.

Emma laughed again from across the room and Killian found himself stomping toward the buffet of fruits on the other side of the room. He could not stand there and watch this charade in front of him.

“Does your town always supply this much fruit for a single evening?” Killian turned to his right as Emma’s handmaiden appeared beside him. Ruby was her name if he remembered correctly.

“We have been blessed with an abundance of a bountiful garden.” He laughed. “Father loves to show that off whenever he is able.” He added with a sarcastic groan.

The woman laughed. “I never had a chance to thank you for valiantly fighting on the road here. I am most certain you saved our dear Emma’s life.”

Killian glanced over as Emma and her brother continued talking at the table. “She seemed capable of handling her own. All I did was deliver her to the carriage.”

“Emma is an accomplished fighter, though she has not been allowed to use her skills in public. It’s not proper for a lady of her stature to be seen sparring with men.”

He narrowed his eyes, “But she does…spar?”

“Oh yes, she’s been known to meet the knights in the garden at night to practice her skills. Emma has never wanted to be left needing to rely on others to protect her. It’s important to her that she can protect her people and herself.”

“I’m sure her father just loves that.”

Ruby snorted loudly once the words left his mouth and Killian took advantage of the attention it brought with the crowd turning in their direction. His hand found its way to her back, guiding her toward the table as he glanced in Emma’s direction, her cheeks reddening, her eyes locked on the scene in front of her. Killian’s smirk grew on one side of his face. Perhaps his conversation could be both pleasing and advantageous for him.

“King David loves his daughter, don’t misunderstand me, but I do wish that he would consider her as the worthy and rightful heir to the throne.”

“You think she should be Queen? Doesn’t she have a brother?”

“Yes, Henry is still young, he could no more take over the kingdom than he could find hair to shave on his face.”

“A woman at the head of the throne, it’s unheard of.”

“It’s only unheard of because men refuse to see women as more than objects to be seen yet silent. I can assure you that Emma would be a most noble and courageous Queen to Misthaven.” She paused, horror filling her eyes. “But I fear I have spoken my mind too loudly tonight, courage brought on by too much ale, I fear. Please do not misunderstand my words as anything more than wishful thinking for my dear Princess. We are most grateful to Jonesboro and Prince Liam for the chance to save both of our kingdoms.”

“Do not fear, Lady Lucas,” he said in a whisper against her ear, “I think you will learn that I find many qualities of women worthy of more than just the place that society has put them.”

She giggled and he caught the glare of angry green eyes darting in his direction. Before he could dwell on his victory he felt a sucker punch to the face when Emma leaned over and pressed a kiss to Liam’s cheek, her hand resting on his chest.

The rest of dinner he brooded as Ruby talked softly beside him, he hummed an answer in the negative or the affirmative but did not spend much time listening to what he was responding to. Instead, he was consumed with anger at the game Emma was playing with him. She had no interest in his brother, he was sure of that. She was playing the part because it was what was required of her.

Even before Ruby had told him, he knew that Emma felt she was the rightful heir to her home. He knew that Emma was capable of being more than a trophy for his brother to parade around Jonesboro. There were other ways to win the fight against Regina and her army that did not involve compromising who Emma was. Yet here she was playing the bride to be with a man she had no interest in marrying.

It was preposterous to think, but he knew that there was more to his anger than Emma not standing up for what she wanted for herself. His anger was because she rejected him. It was irrational to think that she could do anything but reject him but having her walk away from him when it was just the two of them, leaving him there in the forest, tortured him nightly.

He could no longer close his eyes at night without seeing her naked body pressed against his in the moonlight. Thrice since that evening he had taken himself in hand, guiding himself to release while he remembered the feel of her breast in his hand, her legs wrapped around his waist, her throbbing center pressing against his stomach. He could do nothing to keep himself from that need, the desire to hold her, an insatiable need to have her.

He had tried at first to distract himself with a maiden from town, but one kiss from the bar wench sent him reeling with anger back to the solitude of his own bed and hand.

But now, lying in his bed, the anger of seeing her with his brother fully tearing him apart from the inside had him unable to sleep and unable to finish the task of satisfying himself. Frustrated with this turn of events he got up from his bed, pacing the room as he mumbled to himself.

He didn’t realize his intent until he had dressed in clothing and headed down the halls toward her room. He knew he shouldn’t be seen near her room; it would be a scandal if anyone were to find them together, alone in a room this late at night, but he needed to see her. He didn’t even know what he intended to ask of her, but he needed to hear the answer anyway, needed to hear it from her own mouth if she was as haunted as he by their night at the lake.

He knew it was not wise, he should go back to his room, but instead he found himself nearing her bed chamber, his back pressed against the wall as the guards made their rounds. He approached her door, pausing for a moment, one last chance to back out, to stop this ridiculous pursuit and retreat to his own room.

~*~

“Are you sure you are alright? You appear unsettled, quite unlike yourself.”

Emma shrugged as she felt Ruby unlace her corset, exhaling once she was able to breathe again. “I’m tired. At least we will be returning home tomorrow.” She sighed.

“Killian will be traveling with us; he was telling me tonight that he plans to join his brother once he has returned us home safely.”

Emma frowned, unsure how she was supposed to spend the trip sitting across from the man who was haunting her dreams. She was pleased with herself when Killian stormed out of the dining hall that evening, seemingly tired of the game he was playing with her by flirting with Ruby. However, knowing that her attention toward his brother had caused him such jealousy also caused something else to stir deep inside of her: desire.

Had he really wanted her so badly that he was brooding over the attention that she was providing to the man she was to marry. He knew that she had no choice but to marry Liam, she had no time for childish needs and wants. She had a duty to her family, her kingdom, her home.

“Emma?” Emma’s snapped her attention back to Ruby. “Did you hear me? I asked if you were alright if I went down to the doctor to gather supplies for our trip home. I want to ensure we have enough ointment for your wound since it is still healing.”

“Um yeah sure, that’s fine, I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Alright, I’m certain you will feel better in the morning.” She smiled and hugged the girl.

“Thanks Ruby, goodnight.”

The girl gathered her clothes scattered through the room and placed them at the trunk near the armoire. They would pack in the morning and return to her home. Ruby closed the door behind her, and Emma sank into her bed, pulling the heavy blankets up her body and tucking them under her chin. She wanted to disappear into the expanse of the bed, forget everything that had happened here and everything that was yet to come.

The creak across the room alerted her that she was not alone in the room. “Ruby? Did you come back already?” She called out into the silence and a shadow emerged from across the room causing her to sit up quickly. “Who’s there?”

The shadow got closer until it came into the light, the cause of all her strife tonight stood in the moonlight, staring at her.

“What are you doing in my room?” She exclaimed, jumping out of her bed, and rushing toward him. “Do you know what would happen if anyone found you in here, with me, like this!” She said anxiously, looking down at her nightgown.

“That night dress is quite scandalous, however I’ve seen you in less, love.”

Anger took over her emotions. “Stop that.” She said at an angry whisper. “Why are you here?”

“I needed to see you, to talk to you, about the other night.”

“I said everything I needed to say. That was a one-time thing. It can never happen again. I’m marrying your brother.”

“Why are you marrying him?” He asked and Emma’s eyes narrowed.

“You know why, it is our duty to protect our kingdom’s. Our union will bring our people together to…”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” He exclaimed, stepping toward her. “You do not wish to marry my brother. You have no other duty but to yourself.”

She laughed. “It’s not that easy and you know it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Her heart stilled as he reached for her. “I’m haunted by the memories of your kiss; you plague my every thought and dream.” He took another step toward her, his hand brushing against her shoulder.

“You need to find a way to forget, I’m marrying your brother.”

“But you do not want my brother, do you? For all your theatrics this evening, it is not he who causes your heart to stir, your legs to quiver…” His hand was in her hair and Emma needed him to leave. She could scarcely hear his voice from the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. “Or the desire that pools between them.” She gulped.

“We can’t do this; we must put our people first.” A mischievous smile grew on his lips. “Our Kingdom demands that we do what is necessary to survive.” He bent his head to her neck, sucking at the skin below her ear and she held back the moan that threatened to escape her lips. “You’re being selfish, putting your needs above others.” She groaned and he lifted his head to meet her eyes.

“I’d much rather put your needs first, love.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She admonished him as he stared at her as if she were his last meal.

“I want you.”

She laughed. “You only want me because you’ve had every other woman in your kingdom. I’m a conquest to you, nothing more.”

His mouth pressed against her jaw and Emma could feel the warmth between her legs, the moisture pooling in her center as he continued his way down her jaw. She had never been with a man before, never knew that it could bring about such pleasure in the way that he was giving simply from kissing her.

“This is something more than a conquest, I feel it, I know you do too.”

Her heart was pounding out of her chest. “We can’t…” She protested once more as his mouth met hers and she could resist him no longer. She fell into his arms, allowing him to lift her off her feet, carrying her to the bed as he lay her on top of the pool of blankets, his mouth never leaving hers, his fingers tangled in her hair.

She tilted her hips upward, needing to feel something, anything, some type of friction between them. He groaned against her mouth, the sound of which set her body on fire, her lips bruising his as she fought to stop the burning between her legs. She needed whatever he could give her, wanted it so badly that she could see nothing else but him, the feel of his mouth, the touch of his hand, the cold steel of the hook on his arm that was pressing against her back. “Killian.” She moaned, frustration from needing something she couldn’t describe.

She felt a hardness against her center, happy for the friction it provided to her dripping center, as she rubbed her hips against him, eliciting more sounds from his throat that sent shivers down her spine. His hand was under her chemise, his fingers dancing across her breast, his thumb brushing against her hardening nipple. “Oh…” She sighed before she was alerted to the sound of the door, the heavy wood creaking against the floor.

Killian rolled to his side, sliding onto the floor beside the bed before Ruby was able to fully enter the room. “Back so soon.” Emma said, sitting up and yawning. “I barely made it to the bed.”

“Yes, I gathered everything we need for the trip. Get some sleep.”

“Can you get me water?” She asked suddenly. “I’m parched.”

“Um, sure, one second.” She retreated from the room and Emma tilted over the side of the bed, looking underneath to see Killian lying there.

“Go before she returns.” Emma jumped out of the bed, rushing toward the door.

He was on his feet, rushing ahead of her before he turned back to face her, dragging her into his arms and placing his lips against hers. “There is not a moment that I won’t think of you tonight.”

She smiled against his lips, “Good.” She stated before pushing him out the door and slamming it shut behind him. Ruby returned from the small room to her right and stared at Emma.

“Are you quite alright? Why are you out of bed?”

“I needed to stretch.” She said with a yawn, returning quickly to bed and pulling the covers over her head.

“Don’t you want your water?”

She pulled the blanket down, reaching for the glass. “Of course.” She drank the entire contents that were held in the glass and then fell back against the bed, closing her eyes and pulling the covers back over her. “Good night Ruby.”

“Good Night, My Lady.” She said with apprehension.

Emma’s heart was pounding, her mind was racing, her body was still on fire in all the places he had touched her. He wanted her. Killian Jones wanted her. She knew it was wrong, she should not entertain these thoughts, such wanton desire for a man she could not be with was irresponsible. In the end, she would have to marry his brother.

But as she closed her eyes, soft blue eyes swirling around her, his touch haunting her dreams, he was all she wanted, all she desired. And something told her that he would stop at nothing to have her. A thought which both excited and terrified her to no end. Emma Nolan had a duty to her people, a responsibility to unite two kingdoms to keep them from the brink of war.

But more than anything, she could not ignore the feelings that were threatening to grow for Killian Jones.

She knew if she continued to play this reckless game it would lead her to two paths. And she would eventually have to choose.

She could only have one.

Love or Duty.

#love or duty #stacy's fics #captain swan fics #captain swan #captain swan au #killian jones #emma swan

22 notes · View notes

shera-dnd · 3 years

Link

I do believe we’ve gone too long without a good antagonist, so it’s time I introduced two in one go.

Also there is a joke there that I wrote before I even started writing the fic itself and I’m sure y’all will immediately recognize which one that is

“Amitola.”

Ilia blinked awake. It was a cold morning in their little camp, and her body was still sore from last night’s sparring session. She wished for nothing more than to stay inside her bedroll just a little longer, but a feeling of unease kept her from resting once more.

She recognized the voice, she certainly recognized the name, but there was no possible way she had actually heard that. That must have been a dream or perhaps she had simply misheard something in her half asleep state.

That didn’t matter, the sun had risen, and there was no doubt her dutiful knights were already awake and waiting for her to join them. So she quickly placed her usual glamour upon herself, donned one of her fine dresses, and stepped out of her tent.

“Good morning, my fair lady,” Weiss greeted cheerfully.

She sat by the campfire, preparing their breakfast as Belladonna watched her in amusement. She clearly didn’t expect the Schnee to know how to cook.

“Morning, Schnee,” Ilia replied, “what has gotten you in such a pleasant mood?”

“It was you, of course,” she explained, “last night has brought me such great joy.”

Ilia should not have expected the Schnee to know how to mind her wording, if the black knight’s grin was anything to go by.

“Is it safe to ask what has happened in this camp while I was gone?” Belladonna asked.

“I cannot say,” Ilia replied, unamused, “is it safe to ask why you’ve been gone all night?”

Weiss looked between the two of them in confusion, “is it safe to ask what you two are on about?”

“Oh, no, it certainly is not,” Belladonna chuckled.

“Then I believe a change of subject is in order,” Weiss declared, trying her best to evade whatever it was her companions were talking about, “Lady Rose and Lady Polendina have invited me over for target practice today. If my lady would allow it, I’d like us to make our way to their camp as soon as we’re done with this meal.”

“I…” Ilia wasn’t sure how to answer her. Her dream had left her unnerved, and spending time with the lovebirds would do nothing to ease her worries.

“I find myself indisposed today,” she settled on.

Weiss was visibly disappointed, but was quick to hide it behind the mask of a dutiful knight, “then I shall let them know we won’t make it today.”

“No, wait!” Ilia interrupted, not because she cared about the Schnee’s feelings, but because she did not want to spend all day in the company of a moping human, “just go if you want to. Don’t let me keep you.”

Weiss’s eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by this response, “are you certain, Lady Ilia?”

She scoffed in annoyance, “I wouldn’t have said so if I weren’t.”

At that the knight-to-be smiled at her in a way that certainly did not set her heart a flutter, and most definitely did not ease her worries like she were some fretting damsel. In fact, the only thing that got any reaction out of Ilia was when the Schnee decided to go on a tedious ramble, going on about how she would not forget such an act of kindness.

“Yes, yes, I’m a goddess amongst mortals,” she interrupted, “now shouldn’t you be making us breakfast?”

“Of course!” She agreed, promptly returning to the task at hand.

The resulting meal was surprisingly not deadly. In fact, as loath to admit it as Ilia was, it was in fact quite good.

“That was quite the astounding meal, Lady Weiss,” Belladonna praised, “I did not expect an atlesian noble to know how to cook.”

“Do not inflate her ego any further,” Ilia chided, “just be grateful the Schnee did not poison us.”

At least an attempt would have made her unease feel more warranted.

“You both flatter me,” Weiss replied. Though her smile was proud, it was closer to that of a farmer being recognized for their hard work, than that of a lord listing off their titles. It was charming in a way.

Not that Ilia would ever say that out loud.

“Great, you’ve made the Schnee happy, what a way to spoil my meal,” Ilia complained, though neither of them bought it, “shouldn’t you be on your way? Wouldn’t want to keep the lovebirds waiting.”

“You’re right, of course,” Weiss surrendered, getting up as she spoke, “I only request that you do not miss me in my absence.”

“Never has a request been so easy to fulfill,” Ilia replied, rolling her eyes, “now be gone.”

With that Weiss left them. Though Ilia assumed she’d get a moment of peace, it was clear Belladonna had other plans, for she kept looking at Ilia with the most insufferable of expressions plastered across her face. She knew what that look meant, she knew the conversation that would follow, and she most certainly did not want to partake in it.

“Not a word, Belladonna,” she threatened. It was a futile endeavor, all that did was work a smirk into that unbearable face of hers.

“You and ‘the Schnee’ seem very close,” she commented, to her own amusement and to Ilia’s great pain.

“I do not appreciate the implication in your tone, seelie,” Ilia complained.

“You have yet to tell me what has gotten Lady Weiss in such a cheerful mood,” Belladonna insisted.

“We sparred,” she replied, “nothing more to it than that.”

“Funny, that’s just what me and Yang did last night as well,” Belladonna commented.

“I still cannot comprehend what you see in that human,” Ilia shook her head.

“She eats for ten men and could take down just as many with her bare hands, and yet she could name every constellation in the sky and every flower in these fields,” she explained, her voice was sweet, but tasted like bitter jealousy to Ilia’s ear, “she fights like a mad woman, but speaks like a poet, and I have yet to decide what attracts me most.”

It was harder than it should have been, to accept Belladonna’s happiness, to be happy for her as well. Even now, so many years later, a part of Ilia still wished that her friend would speak of her in that way, that they could be more than just friends.

But she had accepted that this was not meant to be, and if the chieftain made Belladonna happy, then she should be happy for her as well.

“I take that to mean that you wish for her to speak poetry between your thighs,” Ilia joked. It was somewhat forced, but she tried.

“I cannot say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” Belladonna replied, “though for now I’m content with our walks and our sparring sessions.”

“Do you plan on telling her what you are?” Ilia asked. Jealousy aside, that had been her primary concern when it came to that human.

“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” she assured her, though that only served to confuse poor Ilia, “I believe she has figured us out already.”

“She has what!?” Ilia demanded.

“She has been slowly wearing less and less iron around me,” Belladonna explained, “yesterday I caught her taking off her bracelets before coming to greet me.”

“How could she even know!?”

“I’m not certain,” she replied, “regardless, it was very sweet of her.”

“How so? Iron doesn’t seem to have any effect on you,” Ilia asked, though there was a near accusatory tone to her words, “she might as well be removing that cloak of hers for all it matters.”

“It isn’t for any practical reasons really. it’s simply that she cares enough about my comfort to do so,” she replied, “hasn’t your human done the same for you?”

Her human?

Though the thought itself wasn’t entirely unpleasant - it had been far too long since poor Ilia had anyone to call hers - the fact that it was aimed at the Schnee of all people soured it for her. Certainly Belladonna knew she had better taste in women.

“Please, never refer to her in that way ever again,” she complained, pinching the bridge of her nose, “and besides she has put away the armor for her own comfort, not for mine.”

“Clearly,” Belladonna replied, amused, “of course our favorite knight wanabee has abandoned her signifiers of knighthood of her own volition, and only for her own benefit.”

“You’re a fool if you believe the Schnee cares for anyone other than herself,” Ilia bit back.

“And you’re a fool not to see how devoted she is to you,” Belladonna countered.

“I did not ask for devotion!” She shouted, “I did not ask to be her damned quest!”

With that shout came silence.

Neither of the fae had much to say from that point on. Though she did not enjoy having what had almost been a pleasant conversation sour so quickly, she also did not regret her outburst in any way. The simple idea of Ilia ever being with the Schnee in any way was both impossible and insulting, and the both of them just had to accept that.

“Amitola,” whispered the winds of the forest, like they had in the depths of her dream.

Ilia looked around frantically. There was no one around besides her and Belladonna. None who could know that name, or even what it meant. She turned back to her fellow fae, but she hadn’t reacted at all, still just sulking as she stared into the dwindling embers of their campfire.

“I should be going,” Belladonna said, seemingly unaware of anything wrong, “I’ve been neglectful of my duties to my order. I should rectify that.”

“Yes, of course,” Ilia replied, masking concern with bitterness, “return to your beloved humans.”

“Ami… Ilia,” she called, “you know I still care for you and for our kind.”

“Of course you do,” she almost hissed, shrouding her own unease with familiar venom, “now be gone already.”

Belladonna sighed, “as you wish.”

In little time she had suited up and set off to serve humanity once again, leaving Ilia alone to deal with the voices in the wind. She wasn’t a fool, she knew this was the doing of her people’s magic, and she recognized their summons when she heard them. What had worried her was that very few people knew that name, and fewer still had the means to travel this far north.

“Amitola,” the name echoed again, not spoken with a voice, but made to be from the wind itself.

This time Ilia answered its summons.

She ventured into the woods by herself, stripping her body of her glamour as she travelled further and further, far away from nobles and knights, from their pointless titles and empty oaths. Until once more she stood within the domain of the fae.

The forest was quieter here, a little pocket of peace set aside for her and her host.

“Amitola,” twin voices called in unison. That name, her name, was loaded with disappointment and contempt.

“Fennec,” Amitola greeted, lowering her head, “Corsac.”

From the shadows among the trees emerged the large gestalt form of the fae twins. A singular body of orange and white fur, caught somewhere between the shape of a man and a fox. It looked down on her with its four eyes, gleaming in the light that came through the branches.

“It has been too long, sister Amitola” Fennec spoke, and his voice felt like wind.

“We didn’t think we’d find you among the humans,” Corsac followed, and his breath smelled like embers.

“It makes one wonder why you left so suddenly,” the twins commented.

It was an unsettling sight to behold.

“I do not seek to join them, if that is what you’re insinuating,” Amitola returned. She was no traitor like Belladonna, and she would not be treated like one, “I seek to infiltrate them.”

“Of course,” Corsac agreed, “but what is it you have to gain from this?”

“I--”

“Don’t tell us you forgot to plan ahead, little sister,” Fennec added.

“I did plan ahead!” Amitola insisted, “I wished to…I wished to see the human world. I wanted to know the things they’ve built from our suffering. The festival felt like the best opportunity I’d get.”

“So then, did you come here only to bolster your hatred of their kind?” One asked.

“Or did you only wish to don a dress and play pretend?” The other followed.

As they spoke they circled her like a predator, their words following much the same. They had not yet betrayed violence in their intent, but it still unnerved her to be treated like prey.

Though words failed to come to her defence, her rage at being interrogated like this still burned bright, and it took the form of the same glare that had many times targeted her companions over the past few days.

The twins laughed.

“Do not worry, little Amitola,” Fennec reassured her, condescension weighing heavy on her name, “your goals may be shallow.”

“But your skill can still be put to use,” Corsac noted, “after all, you have acquired not only the perfect disguise.”

“But also their trust,” they spoke together once more, wind and fire amplified by one another, “and you will put it to good use.”

The shared body of the twins stood before her, larger, more fearsome than any singular being could ever dream to be. Under their gaze it was easy for rage to die down, and for fear and guilt to take over.

“You will do this for us, won’t you, Amitola?”

#rwby #prismatic ponytails #bumbleby #weiss schnee #ilia amitola #blake belladonna #medieval au #fanfic

22 notes · View notes

fandoms-unite · 3 years

Text

TUC 2: Episode 9

HALFWAY THROUGH THE SEASON

I'm living for a Questing Blade with insecurities and enough of a consciousness to be petty

"Ricky says hi." "Who?"

"I don't remember anyone before Dale. I just remember being given away and no one saying goodbye."

"Am I a rebound?" -Cody

Sofia locking herself in the bathroom and staring at the sour patch kids for a whole hour was such a Sofia move

Cody and 53\/35 are on the same spectrum but I can't figure out what that spectrum is

CIPHER PREVENTS DREAMING??

Pete is really gonna get it this season, huh?

"When I see a zine with a vagina on it, I go 'Great, serious literature.'" -53\/35

Idk this person who wants to reach out to Pete to apologize seems sus

Pete is back at it again with those drug deals

"I try to sell all the drugs to my Uber driver."

JJ is going to straight up steal from the MET and I love that for him

The dream magic works for Kingston! He dreams of having children! He can fly now!!

Misiek is getting healthier and I'm glad. I love that little guy.

Is the Unicorn of New York the living embodiment of Kugrash's totem?! Did it exist before Kugrash died?? Or was it part of when Kugrash transcended??!

If the latter, is there a juicy cockroach somewhere in The Unsleeping City?? A SPICY PIGEON??

WHAT ABOUT PERRY?

Oh, wait the Unicorn is from one of Pete's drug trips

I know they're bad guys, but I really like the idea of these knights taking full damage only from historical objects

ALEJANDRO

I love how Zac and Emily both wrote down who they thought would show up when Kingston used that spell

Not gonna lie tho, I thought it was going to be Dale

Ally casting minor illusion to put dysentery on a sword to do damage because they didn't think spells would hurt these knights is the most DnD thing I have ever seen them do

Its that whole thing of when you get stuck on one fact and focus on it so intensely that you're completely blindsided by all the other facts that could make your life much clearer

"Just to paint a picture...a japanese man is watching a white guy swing a katana." -Zac

"There's a sword in a stone in here!" -Sofia "You hear a moped reving." -Murph

"You and Cody vibe a minute swinging swords." -Brennan

Oh! So the Unicorn, the spicy pigeon and the juicy cockroach are all the spirit totems of New York?? I thought they were just Kugrash's totems! Glad to know they all exist

In other news, I want to be the Unicorn's friend

Cody actually vibrating as he's restraining himself from claiming the sword in the stone

"So like a MadLibs?" - Ricky

Ricky is the Protector of New York! He has a fireman's axe!! My precious boi just wants to protect and he won't let anyone take that away from him!

I love how Pete's first instinct when faced with a sword that only exists in Nod, HIS OWN DOMAIN, was "I need to give this sword to someone I owe a lot of money to" rather than just leaving it alone

"I am the weilder of the Ultimate Double Blade Thirsting Blade"- lmao i hate and love Cody so much

Brennan is fully committed to matching Murph on his level of ridiculousness and called this absolute monstrosity of a sword the Double Blade Dark Excalibur Thirsting Blade

I love that for them

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #the unsleeping city 2 #the unsleeping city 2 spoilers #tuc 2 #tuc 2 spoilers #ricky matsui #kingston brown #pete conlan #sofia lee #iga lisowski #cody walsh #cody night angel walsh #the unsleeping city #the unsleeping city spoilers

99 notes · View notes

monster-bait · 4 years

Text

Into the Light ficlet: Candles; M Will-o’-the-Wisp x F Human

For @thelampades. Just ‘cause. No reason. None at all. 😙🎶🥳🧁💖💖💖

The rain blew down in sheets, rattling the windows in their casements hard enough to send the cat scurrying to hide in the workshop. Outside the cottage door, the wind howled.

You’d not be faring out of doors today.

The sky had been sheeting for days and the road was like to be a muddy quagmire, and besides, there wasn’t much you needed in town. The only place you had a mind to visit was mum’s house, but you weren’t willing to traverse the storm all the way around town—knee-deep in mud, you’d be soaked to the skin, and you’d have to endure the foul conditions again on the return trip. The only other way, of course, was the forest path, but the forest was out of the question.

You missed the shelter of the pines and the path you knew so well, full of familiar landmarks where you'd spent so many hours playing as a child...but the Autumn Queen still sat her throne, and would do so for several weeks more.

Far better to stay indoors, where it was bright and warm; where you could bundle in your favorite quilt and sip your favorite tea, sweetened with your favorite honey, and wait for nightfall to carry away this day. The thought of this particular day ending was cheering, and you turned from the wash basin, setting the kettle on the stovetop. You quilt was upstairs, and you marched off to fetch it determindley. No one would pull you from your determined mope, and chores could wait.

From the upstairs window you watched a lamp in the distance gutter in the wind before extinguishing fully. The buildings in town you were able to glimpse from behind the protective circle of hawthorne were dark, although puffs of smoke came from the chimneys. Hearthfires but no lamps; wisely conserving their oil for the coming winter. You turned the lamps up once you returned to the ground floor, heedless of the concern.

Your home was never without light, after all.

You couldn’t technically remember if it rained every year on your birthday, as you couldn’t remember most things, but each wet lash against the cottage stones seemed to echo in your bones, and you were certain that it had. A non-stop deluge, steel grey skies, and the rumble of thunder in the cauldron of the hills, matching your melancholy—it felt comfortingly familiar, and if you closed your eyes you could almost smell the warmth of something baking, a bright flash of ozone, the chill of a chain slipped ‘round your neck—memories of birthdays past, all buffeted by the same storm.

You didn’t like the day, regardless of the weather. Birthdays were nothing but a reminder after all, of promises made to yourself and not kept, of plans made and not followed through on, of all the things you wanted to do and hadn’t. Now it was a reminder that you continued to age, while your handsome husband would not.

Although, you were forced to admit, staring broodingly into the storm, he did an admirable job disappearing into the background of the town. Your own mother had squinted in thought, laughing as she admitted she couldn’t actually remember when the lamplighter had been hired by the village, just that he’d somehow always been there.

“But that’s silly! Of course he hasn’t, it must only have been a few years. Perhaps he resembles the fellow before...oh, but not nearly as handsome as your Jack.”

Yes, he wore his skin well, but no amount of russet scruff on his jaw could hide the mischievous sparkle of his eyes, while yours would dull as the years trudged on. The tea kettle whistled, and you gave it a sour look for interrupting your mental grousing.

There had been a night, some weeks back, when you’d been unable to sleep. The wind was still and moonlight illuminated the bedclothes, and the angular planes of his face—high cheekbones and sharp jaw and long, tapering ears—were far more interesting than sleep. A crusted weal sliced around his ear, the latest gift from your least favorite member of the high court, one of many he’d received, and you’d diligently dabbed it with a homemade salve until the bright red wound had scabbed. Long lashes fanned across his white skin, fluttering as if he could feel the weight of your gaze, opening slowly. His smile was languid, revealing glinting fangs, and his stormy eyes crinkled, pinning you to the spot.

“Fancy meeting you here, missy.”

You’d grinned in spite of yourself, running a fingertip over the nearly-healed lash. You hadn’t heard him come returning that night and hadn’t felt him slip into the bed beside you, but you’d been glad all the same. “This mended up well,” you murmured, tapping the scab.

“I have an excellent in-house nursemaid.”

You’d scowled at his nonchalance. His face was beginning to resemble a patchwork quilt of silvery scars, the physical evidence of his inability to control his cheek. “Well, she would very much appreciate it if she could be given a holiday. All you need to do is control that mouth of yours.”

You’d witnessed it the very first time he’d brought you to the court, to present you to the queen and announce your recent nuptials.

Memory was strange and foreign and unfamiliar, but since the day you’d wedded the lamplighter, two years prior, you remembered every moment of every day. Your mind was uncomfortably full, crowded with the minutiae of idle gossip shared with Enid and the butcher’s row with Mrs. Leamhnach last Wednesday. You remembered the heat of your husband’s mouth and the press of his body against yours, the relentless hammer of his hips as he held your leg hitched over his hip in his work room, the way the ladder on the wall had thumped and rattled in a dangerous syncopation as you were fucked against the wall...you remembered the warm huff of his breath against your neck in the bed you shared and the cloudy storm of his tempest eyes as he propped his head with a long-fingered hand, leaning on his elbow and smirking down on you as you gazed up from the pillow.

You remembered that night perfectly: the press of willowy bodies and the hum of pixies darting through the air. You’d been afraid of the night gaunts who had loomed on the outskirts of the gathering, heard the rustle of wings and the whisper of musical voices as you passed, clinging to Jack’s arm.

You remembered the black scales and long, fair hair of the knight at the queen’s side, his mocking chuckle as Glánthan was called forth, pulling you with him for the first time.

Her crown was a twisting mass of antlers and leaves, the hollowed out shell of an abandoned bird’s nest and branches set in shining gold, gleaming against her fiery red hair. Skin like alabaster with lips like fat, ripe cherries; you were certain would never forget the way her head cocked curiously, examining you as if you were a strange insect brought before her by her constituent as you fell into a clumsy curtsy...just as you would never forget the way her beauty fell away as the moon shifted, her perfect, white complexion replaced with a death’s head, still shimmering golden.

“These vows were exchanged after the turn?” she questioned, her delicate brows furrowed in consternation. “In the aestival time?”

“That is against our laws, lampman,” the doll-faced knight sneered, loosening the gem-encrusted blade at his hip. “Which you well know.”

“A crime for which you’ve been punished before.” The Queen’s forehead still scrunched, her face a moue of displeasure.

Glánthan spread his hands in an expansive gesture, fixing the queen with a winsome smile. “Then it would do no good to dole out the same sentence, your grace.”

The blade was drawn. Long, dagger-like teeth winked in the moonlight as the knight advanced down the steps, his smile a terrifying, gruesome thing. “I’m going to cut out your tongue for that,” he’d chuckled, “and perhaps that might curb your disrespect.”

The queen’s laughter had been a delighted tinkle, a crystal bell carrying on the still air, the sound mirrored in shrill tones by the harpy above. “Darling one, you are terribly dramatic. Come, sit with me and leave the night wisp alone. Lampbearer, present to me your new bride.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” you’d grumbled, tracing another one of the silvery scars as he shifted against the pillow.

“I’m not. I fill a role, an invaluable one, and if that prancing twat wants to open my throat, the Queen will have to replace me, which I assure you, she does not want to do. A herald would have to be sent out to all the realm seeking a replacement, they would need to be vetted and trained...have you ever met one of the Queen’s heralds? The only part of their jobs those satyrs are committed to is fucking every lass and lad from the Giant’s Pass to the bells of Mag Mell, and her royalship knows it. You don’t need to worry about me, wife. I’m irreplaceable.”

Your shoulders had been shaking beneath the covers by the time he’d finished his ridiculous monologue, your laughter wheezing against his neck. “Do you mean to tell I owe my gratitude to a pack of libidinous satyrs for being the only thing keeping your giant mouth from getting you killed?”

“May their cocks stand tall through every moon,” he sighed, reaching over you to lift the glass of water you had on the bedside table in a toast, and you shook in laughter again.

It was several moments before silence more claimed the moonlit room, and you’d pressed your fingers into his unruly hair. “Is it always this easy?”

You hadn’t been certain where the question had come from, nor why you’d given it voice, but it was too late to take it back and you did want to know. Despite their small size, the weight of that vial of seeds pressed heavily upon your mind. Jack said nothing for a long while, one of his cool fingertips ghosting over your skin.

“No.”

There was no time to feel the weight crush you, for his lips had pressed yours then, familiar and sweet, cinnamon and honey and mead, kerosene and the damp air of the bog. Your life had gone on as it always had—the same village, the same friends and market and baker and laundress—your mum was close and you still sold your herbs...and Jack had fit into the landscape of your life seamlessly; the thought of it not being this way twisted your heart.

“But that doesn’t matter, sweet. It doesn’t matter who you are...I’ll always find you.”

His lips had found yours, shifting you above him until you were splayed over his hips, and each rise and fall of your body sent a bolt of lightning down your spine; each roll of your hips increasing the thunder of your heart, and you’d wondered, as you tightened around his cock, a shudder moving through you, if the lightning tree was thudding with the same euphoria.

Sipping your tea now, you turned away from the gusting rain at the window. This day did nothing but harken the end of another year of this easy life, and it was nothing to celebrate. Settling in your chair by the fire, you wondered, not for the first time, what you would look like in your next life, if he had preferred the buxom scullery maid to your present form, if he had a favorite you.

He had missed your birthday the first autumn after you’d wed him, disappearing into the woods for several days after mumbling about quotas and a poxy troll book keeper, kissing you on the forehead and whistling his familiar tune as the door swung shut behind him. You’d made no mention of the significance of the date, and wished that you could make yourself forget it as cleanly as you forgot other things. Perhaps he won’t come home today either, and you can forget about the whole miserable mess.

You’d never been especially lucky, and evidently being another year older wasn’t going to change things.

The workshop at the back of the cottage was full of the tools of his trade. Ladders of varying heights hung from the walls, drums of kerosene, hooks and poles, glass globes and brass fixtures. When the plank door opened, the wind would rattle through the entire space, shaking the ladders and whistling through the loft. You heard the familiar series of thumps on the wall, followed by a familiar whistle, despite the dreadful weather.

“It’s raining sideways,” he announced cheerfully, heedless of the rivulets of water that tracked down his face, disappearing into the soaked collar of his roughspun, “and cold as the Brumal Queen’s teats on Saturnalia. That brownie had best have a hot bath ready, if he wants to skip a beating.”

As ever, you couldn’t help but laugh. Your life would never be your own, but it wasn’t as if you had been doing anything particularly grand with it in the first place.

“I seem to remember the brownie evicting itself when you tried to make it dance for you.”

You’d never tire of his smile, the mischievous glint in his eye or his wide hands encircling your waist, but you didn't expect it in that moment, squeaking when he hauled you up and over his shoulder. Up the short staircase, dropping you with a bounce to the bed, you laughed as he shucked his wet clothes in a heap on the floor. You had no complaints when he pulled you beneath the covers, despite the icy coldness of his skin. Pressing your face to his broad chest, you inhaled the familiar, damp scent of his skin, willing yourself to shake off the gloom that had enveloped you all week as this day approached. It’s almost over and you didn’t even need to acknowledge it.

“Who has offended my wife, and how severely do I need to kill them?”

Your eyes flew open, only to find the tip of his nose practically touching your own. It was odd sometimes, the way his rough day-to-day voice—Jack of the lanterns, known to all in the village—slid into the smooth spill white satin, a fae ring in every syllable, in the space of a few words. At that moment, he was poised on the knife-tip between the two and you shivered.

“If you think I haven’t noticed, you do me a serious disservice, sweet. Name the miscreant, and they’ll never draw another breath.”

“There’s no one—”

“Wife.” His eyes had narrowed into an equally familiar scowl, and you pushed down your laughter, knowing his ego would not abide it. “Do not keep secrets from me.” He threw the covers back dramatically, ignoring your protests. “A dishonor on you is a dishonor on me, and no one shall cross me and live to see the next—”

“It’s my birthday!”

His bluster went silent, eyes narrowing to stormy slits.

“My-my birthday, that means it’s the anniversary of—”

“I know what it means, sweet. I’m only trying to understand why I’m only learning of it now.”

“Because I don’t like celebrating it,” you grumbled, struggling to pull the heavy bedcover over you once more.

“This is a day of celebration! A revel! We should be feasting and drinking, games and dancing and…”

Jack’s eyes narrowed again, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, the calculation of days, the time of year he’d stood with you beneath the lightning tree. You sighed. Memory truly was a burden. “You were away last year,” you supplied, squeaking when he pinned you.

His eyes were a swirling storm: grey and blue, shot through with a flare of light, and his fangs glinted as he glared down. “This is my favorite day, sweet.”

It was strange, you reflected...you’d always loved the vernal season with its snowdrops and fresh shoots of green, soft spring rain and fair afternoons, fledgling birds and lambs at every farmstead, a promise that the earth was returning to life after her cold winter slumber; and the autumnal months as well—spiced cider and neeps swimming in butter, bonfires and wood smoke and the crunch of leaves, crisp air that held just a whisper of the cold to come. You’d disliked the seasonal extremes, dreaded the icy stasis of the brumal months and the increased workload of summer’s markets, preferring the rosy in-betweens.

Now you knew better.

You longed for the dead of winter, drifts of snow and ice and gloom; for the high sun of the summer months, despite your fair skin; for mornings spent in the garden, your cuticles permanently crusted with black earth as you harvested your herbs, and long afternoons at the market table.

It was a time when the Unseelie Court held no sway over the world—your mischievous husband would lose a bit of his sparkle, but also a touch of his venom, and most importantly: the childlike queen with the crystal laughter and her most beloved consort were absent, and the forest path was clear. You could return to the tree-shaded paths together and watch the holly nymphs dance in the moonlight; you would feel sharp claws at your waist and the flick of a whip-thin tail against your back, and you couldn't wait to walk hand-in-hand through the wood…

But you would miss this Jack as well. Easily excitable, full of pique and hubris and amusement, always unpredictable. You didn’t have a favorite Jack, you considered.

“What happens when I grow older?” you blurted as he gripped your wrists, high forehead creasing. “Will you remember this version of me when I’m gone? Does it even matter who I am?”

You hadn’t planned on tears, but they made an appearance despite your wishes as you were rolled, pressed to his chest once more.

“This day is a celebration of you,” he murmured into your hair. “I remember each and every one of you, sweet, and I love each of you. Haven’t I always taken excellent care of you?”

“But-”

“It doesn’t matter who you are because you’re always you, pet. You always have the same fire, the same spark...you never change. You always follow the light into the wood. Now...how are we celebrating such an important day?”

“We’re doing it,” you mumbled stubbornly, ignoring his chuckle. “I don't want to dance or feast, and I’ve seen what happens at your revels.”

He hummed, tapping your nose and tugging your curls. “Fine then. But the post revel celebration belongs to me, and we do what I want.” You smiled, knowing by hook or by crook, he would get his way, and if you didn't want to be tricked, it was easier to agree.

You were left alone when he vaulted form the bed, moving with unnatural fae speed, returning a moment later with a small spice cake bearing a single candle. “You can’t go to bed without making a wish,” he announced, “and on the morrow, I’m in charge.”

You would find out tomorrow, you supposed, what the post-revel celebration would be.

#this is not a birthday fic #it's just a random one shot #honest #exophilia #fae boyfriend #fae #fae folk #into the light #will-o'-the wisp #jack of the lanterns #bright and shining

122 notes · View notes

nah-she-didnt · 3 years

Note

I’ll just choose a random one! What about... 17? From the promp list xx

Hello! Thank you for the prompt, I’m sorry it took so long. I just could not get the right angle on it. I actually wrote an entire Hinny response to this, but I accidentally deleted it (womp womp). Anyway, please enjoy this Jily moment!

Read on AO3!

All Your Moments

The atmosphere inside the common room was like that of a poorly-attended funeral. Forlorn students milled about the room, still wrapped in Gryffindor scarves and clad in gold and crimson face paint. A lone banner with a large, moving lion lay crumpled in the corner, forgotten after the devastating loss to Slytherin.

Lily sat among her friends in front of the crackling fire. Peter hugged his knees to his chest as he stared dismayed into the flames. Mary and Dorcas began a sullen game of wizard chess, prodding their pieces around the board half-heartedly. Sirius and Remus sat in the same squishy armchair, Remus’ head resting against Sirius’ chest.

Sirius sighed loudly. “Thank god I got disowned, I don’t think I’d ever hear the end of this from Reg if I still lived at home.”

Remus laughed, but Peter’s face remained unchanged. “I can’t believe we fucking lost,” he muttered into his knees.

Remus threw a pillow in his direction. “Buck up, Pete. It’s not like you lost, just your team.”

Peter gaped at Remus. “You know, Remus, you’ve never really understood the beautiful game that is quidditch.”

“At least he understands his Transfiguration homework,” Sirius snapped.

“Boys, boys,” Remus sighed, throwing a sharp look in Sirius’ direction, “let’s not fight, yeah? Tonight’s depressing enough.”

Lily glanced towards the boys dormitory. James had disappeared up the stairs after the game and had not resurfaced since. She knew he had to be hurting right now. Quidditch had been a massive part of his life ever since he started at Hogwarts, and to lose the championship game as captain in his seventh year had to be devastating. At this thought, Lily hoisted herself up from between the squashy couch cushions and stood, shoulders squared, facing the boy’s dormitory.

“I’m going up there,” she said confidently and moved towards the staircase.

Sirius caught her arm. “Lily, no,” he said gravely, “you haven’t been dating Prongs very long, but let me tell you. He is an insufferable crybaby when he loses at quidditch.”

Lily scoffed. “Oh come on, he can’t be that bad.”

“No, he’s worse,” Peter grimaced, “remember when they lost to Hufflepuff in fourth year and he disappeared into the forest for four hours?”

“Maybe he needs a bit of cheering up,” smirked Mary as her knight decimated Dorcas’ pawn.

Lily glared at Mary. “I’m not going to shag him out of his misery, but thanks for the suggestion.”

Mary shrugged. “It would work, that’s all I’m saying.”

Lily very much doubted Mary’s words as she climbed the stairs to James’ room. She remembered that loss against Hufflepuff. James moped around the castle for a full week, barely speaking in classes, which at the time had been a blessing. Now she felt her heart drop when she recalled the look on James’ face as he dismounted his broom on the quidditch pitch, the Slytherin players celebrating and hoisting the Quidditch Cup in the background.

Lily reached James’ door and knocked softly. There was no reply.

“James?” she called tentatively, knocking, again, “are you alright? We thought you might like to join us downstairs.”

There was no response. She knocked again.

“James, I know you’re upset, but please come down. It’s not the same down there without you.” She pushed open the door, but the dorm was empty.

“That was fast,” Dorcas grinned as Lily approached the group again, “bit of a quick draw, is he?”

“Shut up,” she snapped, “Remus, I need the map.”

Remus frowned. “What makes you think I have it?”

“Because that map is like your baby, now hand it over.”

Remus grumbled but reached into his pocket for the map. Lily snatched it out of his hand and started to scan the corridors for James.

“He must have slipped out under the invisibility cloak,” she murmured as she searched.

“I’m telling you,” Peter sighed, “he’s off to the forest. Someday we’ll tell our kids, ‘oh yeah, I remember James Potter. He was a giant sore loser who marched into the forest one day, never to be seen again.’”

Lily ignored this, her eyes sweeping over the Hogwarts grounds. Finally, she spotted him. “Gotcha.”

She triumphantly stuffed the map into her pocket. Remus flinched at the way she manhandled his craftsmanship, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment.

“Right, I’m off to find my crybaby boyfriend, pray that I don’t get caught by Filch.” The others echoed calls of luck as she made her way out of the dormitory.

The castle was dark and silent as she crept along the walls. Every shadow was Filch, every squeaking mouse was Mrs. Norris. She realized about halfway to the entrance hall that she was in a stupidly vulnerable position. She knew that if she were caught she could just say she was out of bed on official Head Girl business. However, if she ran into any Slytherins on her way out, she would almost certainly be outnumbered. She forced herself not to think about that possibility and pressed on.

She stopped just before the great oak doors to the castle and pulled the map out of her pocket again. There he was, still sitting motionless in the middle of the quidditch pitch. Drama queen, she thought as she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. No, she needed to compose herself and support him now.

The night air was crisp and warm, not quite the oppressive heat of summer but still pleasant enough without her cloak. She traipsed through the grass damp with mist and across the grounds towards the pitch.

She didn’t know as much about quidditch as some of her friends, but even she could tell that James had played badly that day. He seemed distracted, like he was always one step behind his teammates. In one particularly bad moment James had turned his head to bark orders at his keeper and completely missed the bludger that soared right into his throwing arm. He played out the rest of the game, but he hadn’t been able to make any more goals.

Lily halted at the entrance to the pitch and scanned the dark grass. The pitch appeared empty, but Lily knew better.

“Oi, Potter!” she shouted into the night.

A moment of silence passed. Then a floating head popped into view.

“Over here,” he called. She could hear the defeat in his voice.

She walked the length of the pitch until she was level with James, then plopped to the ground beside him. The water from the grass beneath them soaked through her knee high socks.

“You don’t play fair,” he muttered miserably, “I came out here to mope away from everyone, but you got the map off Remus, didn’t you?”

She grimaced. “I didn’t want you to be all alone.”

James glanced up to the goal posts in front of them. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ll never play another proper game of quidditch. The whole time leading up to the game all I could think about was winning, but I never thought to just enjoy my last moments up there.”

Lily nodded and reached out to clasp his hand. “I’m sorry, James. You’ll play quidditch again someday.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, eyes still pointed to the skies, “but it won’t be the same. I’ll get over it, I suppose, but I wish I’d played well enough to remember it fondly.”

Lily didn’t know what to say to this. She knew she couldn’t disagree with him. He knew as well as anyone that he played poorly that day, and any attempt to contradict him seemed feeble. She offered him a small smile.

“You know, you have your whole life ahead of you. You’re an incredible man. You’ll do things that are much more important than winning the quidditch cup.”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “That doesn’t help as much as I’m sure you intended, but thank you.”

Lily tugged at him. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Everyone’s waiting in the Common Room.”

James shook his head. “No, I just want to remember this place for a bit. But could you stay with me? Honestly, after this shit day, I just want a hug.”

She nodded, and they laid back in the grass together, gazing up at the sky. She rested her head against his chest and draped an arm across his waist. They lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the light wind whip across the open field. Lily could feel water soaking the back of her sweater now, but she didn’t care.

She never knew how nice it would be to share his failures with him as well as his triumphs. Here he was, solemn and dejected, but still open. She realized in that moment how much she wanted from him. She wanted all his moments, his great booming laughter and his silent disappointment. Every new emotion with him felt right.

James finally smiled over at her through the blades of grass that separated them. “I’m a real joy to be around right now, I’m sure.”

Lily laughed. “It’s alright, I like it out here with you. And you never stay down for long, you know. Even now you’re joking around like everything is alright. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

James’ smile slid from his face and was replaced with surprise. She’d never said that word to him before, but it felt natural in the moment. Even now she realized she did not regret her words.

“You love that about me?” he whispered through the darkness.

She nodded softly. “Yeah. I love you, James. I do.”

James blinked stupidly for a moment as if he were processing her words. Then he sat up quickly. “Wait,” he said, eyes narrowing, “you’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

Lily laughed as she sat up too. “No, I mean it. I love you, James Potter.”

James sat stunned for a moment. Then he jumped to his feet and whooped with laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said, also clambering to her feet, “what exactly is funny about that?”

James dived at her, picked her up, and spun her around. When her feet landed on the ground once more he held her close and pressed his forehead to hers. “What’s funny, Lily Evans, is that I never in all my life thought you would say those words to me.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Don’t be daft,” she said, trying and failing to look annoyed, “you must have known.”

“Never,” he beamed down at her then kissed her gently. The wind tugged at her hair and clothes as they swayed for a moment, gripping each other tightly.

Lily suddenly broke the kiss. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What? Oh! I love you too, of course,” he grinned, “I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you.”

“That’s more like it,” she laughed, then tackled him back to the ground.

#Nina writes #jily one shot #jily #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald #remus lupin #peter pettigrew

61 notes · View notes

hasbedidoneanythingbad · 3 years

Text

Melehan | Avenger

Melehan - Avenger

Melehan, Mordred, and the sister of Guinevere’s (Gwenhwyfach) eldest son manifests as an avenger but in normal circumstances, he’d manifest as a berserker who’s obsessed with killing a certain lion knight. But under these circumstances, he manifests as an avenger

Besides that, all he wishes to do is to protect his family from the “fiendish Du Lacs” such as Lancelot.

Appearance:

Melehan is a tall knight in his late teenage years, at the age of 17. He has platinum blonde hair that goes to his hips that is a mess due to the neglect of caring for it, due to him rather wanting to vanquish King Constantine of his forces and to overthrow him in Mordred’s honor. He has a black set of armor that has red accents that mimic Mordred’s except for the helmet. Melehan tends to forget about his helmet. He has a scar that covers from his forehead all the way to the right corner of his lips

Personality:

Melehan is very similar in nature to his father Mordred. He shares his father’s anger and overconfidence. His mother’s nature even adds to this, creating one angry and sadistic avenger who only wants to make his parents proud

He holds a deep-seated hatred towards his aunt Guinevere, her husband, and her personal knight who is otherwise known as Lancelot. If he spots Gawain however, he will begin to holler and shout at him, blaming him for the death of his little brother

When it comes to the master, he refuses to serve them directly and acts overall fairly cold and distant towards them. He states that “Just so we’re clear, you ain’t the boss of me. I only tolerate you because of father.”

Noble Phantasm:

The army that fought in Mordred’s name, “Army of Logres!”

“Noblemen and noblewomen of Logres, please answer my call. I request your undying loyalty and your sword of allegiance! In the name of Mordred Pendragon, vanquish these fiends!”

Upon acquiring the sword of allegiance from the nobles of Logres, it is guaranteed for them to heed his call. They are all summoned in the name of Mordred and under his banner to carry on the fight against King Arthur’s successor.

This noble phantasm is an anti-army and summons an entire army of men and women, much like Iskandar’s Ionioi Hetairoi. It mainly deals large amounts of damage, depending on its level.

Voice lines:

Upon being summoned:

“Hey, you! You’re the person that summoned me, right? Guess it’s nice to meet you...oh my name? Oh it’s Melehan, son of Mordred and avenger class”

Bond Level 1:

“Just so we’re clear, you ain’t the boss of me. I only tolerate you because of father.”

Bond Level 2:

“Quit asking stuff of me! It’s annoying! I told you already, you can’t boss me around!

Bond Level 3:

“Do you think ma and pa are proud of me?... What? I'm not asking for any reason...was just curious…”

Bond Level 4:

“Okay fine I’ll admit it! I tolerate you! But it’s because you’re useful to me...and you ain’t so bad.”

Bond Level 5:

“My spear is yours..I trust you to make the right calls...fine yes, this is me acknowledging you as my master….hey don’t take it to heart!

Dialogue about Mordred:

“Father you’re here?! I can’t believe it! Wait, father! I’m sorry for failing you...But I’ll do better this time! Don’t worry!”

Dialogue about The Dress of Heaven:

“Mother! It’s you!...wait you’re not my mom? Oh my bad. You looked like her that’s al- Oi! Stop hugging me, you crazy lady! Hey! Stop calling me your son! I just said you’re not her! Master help me here!”

Dialogue about Gawain:

“Come here, you bastard! I’m going to kill you for what you did! You don’t know what you did? It’s your damn fault me and Melou died! You told that Du Lac asshole to kill us! Hey, master let go of me! Let me kill that fucker!”

Dialogue about Lancelot(saber):

“You! You’re done for! Hey! Stop avoiding me! What do you mean you’re sorry?! You and your stupid brothers killed me and my brother! I don’t care if uncle’s dying wish was for you to! Fuck him!”

Dialogue about Lancelot(Berserker):

“Hey stop your yelling and moping! It’s getting on my nerves! I don’t care if I remind you of my aunt, stop calling me by her name...jeez you’re annoying…”

Dialogue about Arthur/Artoria(all versions):

“Can’t believe you summoned that bastard… You should get rid of them. What do you mean you can’t? I’m giving you a solid piece of advice. Trust me, they’re not all that great.”

Likes:

“What do I like? Oh, I like my little brother...or just family in general.”

Dislikes:

“Lions, they’re ugly and arent cute, not even by a little. That’s it, that’s the only reason so don’t ask.”

About the grail:

“You can keep that thing I don’t want it...Wait you’re asking for my wish? Well, I guess I’d wish for my brother back. I don’t think that thing can bring him back though..”

During an Event:

“Hey, that sounds like something is going on. Let’s go check it out.”

Your Birthday:

“Oh, it’s your birthday? Okay cool. Let’s go kill something in your honor.”

#fanservant #fgo oc #melehan #fate/go #i couldnt be bothered to write the skills

16 notes · View notes

mackeydoodledoo · 3 years

Text

Pink(?) with Envy

Pairing: Izzy Garcia x (FemKnight!)Reader

Summary: It follows a girl: Y/N Y/L/N, who currently owns the "Pteradon Champion Zord", along with its DinoSoul Key, who is currently a Professional Box Fighter. The youngest ever to be a pro. What she doesn't know is that she is a direct descendant of the supposed Mythical "DinoSoul" Tribe. [Equivalent to the Ryusoul Tribe]. Her partner, she calls him, "buddy" as she doesn't have a proper name for him. The two of them embark on a journey to figure out who she is, finding an old flame and developing a new crush in the process.

Warnings: Broken Heart, Jealous Ex-girlfriend

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

As you waited outside of the Diner for Izzy, the two of you decided to go out, celebrating each others' wins. Although you still had a lot of time to recover, you miraculously recovered faster than you expected. Also, today [a Thursday] was pretty much the only time the two of you can really get to know each other, getting to know each other other than through sports.

"Hey stranger," Izzy calls over, catching up to you

"Hey yourself," you smile, opening the door for her

"Why thank you my knight in shining armor," Izzy jokes again as you sigh, following behind her

As the two of you seat yourselves as far from people as possible, you don't notice the door opening. Not bothering to see who it was.

"My treat Izzy," you state, looking through the menu

"Oh no MY treat Carly," Izzy states back, "It's a thanks for prepping me for my competitions."

"So how will I repay you for preparing me for my biggest match?" you ask, smiling

"You can save it for another time love," she smiles

After you guys paid for each others' food, the two of you decided to take a walk through the woods to get fresh air.

"Wait so you've had your zord since you were 5?!" Izzy asks

You nod, "He was given to me by my mother. Well, since she long passed, he's been looking after me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Izzy sighs

"It's alright," You sigh as well, "She was trying to rush home to me on my birthday. It was a rainy night and she was driving alongside the cliffs.."

"I see." Izzy sighs, "Well, you have him right? Isn't he like your family too?"

"Oh he's family alright," You agree, "It's just, I didn't have parents growing up."

"Where was your father?" Izzy asks, "If you don't mind me asking."

"He disappeared after my 6th birthday," You say, "It was a mystery on where he went."

You weren't sure where to go on from there, as that was pretty much your entire story on your family.

The rest of the walk was silent, but with the ambience of the wildlife. You didn't realize you and Izzy were holding hands on you way back into town.

"Oh, jeez, my step-dad is yelling at Javi again," Izzy sighs, "I gotta go talk to him."

"No worries," You smile, kissing Izzy's cheek, "Tomorrow morning's session?"

You don't hear her answer you but you gently shake her back to her senses.

"Yeah," Izzy sighs into a smile

You watch her run off further into town to meet up with her step-dad and Javi.

"Did you have fun?" a familiar voice calls out to you

You turn a whole 180 before meeting Amelia's gaze. You sigh, knowing what she's up to.

"You know what?" You scoff, "I did have fun. More than I did with you in high school. Listen here Amelia, I'm okay with still being friends but you're starting to become too much with you coming back into my life, and being jealous. Yeah, didn’t think I’d notice? I don't need you to be jealous of your friend Izzy okay?!"

You slightly bump into her shoulder and begin walking back to your apartment; having enough of her presence.

"Hey how'd it go?" He asks as soon as you walk through the door

You slam the door shut, "Fine."

"You okay?" He asks

"Yeah I'm fine bud," You sigh

"Did you run into her again?" He asks

"More like she wanted to find me," You sigh, "I don't know what her deal is. She's the one that broke up with me."

"Well, you should talk to Amelia," He suggests, "Tell her that you're beginning to like someone else."

"Well, I believe she saw that cheek kiss I gave Izzy before she left," You sigh, "She should get that hint by now. I'm gonna head to bed early. Goodnight buddy."

You wait outside of the rec center on any other morning, waiting for Izzy to train her for her next meet. However, at the corner of your eye, you spot a hint of pink.

"What are you doing here Amelia?" you ask, while you're waiting outside of the rec center

"I wanted to come say hi," She says, "Maybe you'd want to grab a bite to eat after your training session with Izzy?"

You scoff at Amelia's request, "Come on, you really think 'getting a bite to eat' is going to make me feel better about what happened in high school?"

"Come on," Amelia whines, "I barely get to see you already."

"So you think you get to just break up with me all that time ago and now you want to have lunch with me?!" You ask, angrily

"Yes?" Amelia answers your question with another question

"Why are you so obsessed with me Amelia?!" You ask, beginning to raise your voice, "you're the one who broke up with me! You're the one who said 'we aren't working out'. So why all of a sudden you're jealous of me and Izzy?! Do you not want me to be happy?!"

"You really don't know do you?" She says

"Apparently not," you say, still angered, “So what do I not know that you do?”

She grabs the collar of your jacket and brings you closer to her; your lips touching hers. You were in shock so you didn't do anything other than let Amelia kiss you. However, once she pulls away, you could see a pair of feet from the corner of your eyes.... You look over and....

"Izzy, wait- it's not- it's not what it looks like," you stutter, trying to chase after her, "Izzy!"

Once you finally caught up to her you gently place your hand onto her shoulder, "Izzy, wait let me explain-"

"What are you trying to play at here?!" She asks, angrily, "Did you have a thing with Amelia?"

You hesitated to tell her. You didn't tell her before. You believed you didn't really need to talk about it. Oh man you were wrong... You could see tears forming into her eyes... Wait... Does she like you back? It won't matter after now....

"Yes," you confessed, "But, she broke up with me and I was on shock not even a minute ago, I don't have feelings for her anymore Izzy-"

Before you could go on, explaining yourself more, Izzy looked like she had enough and walked away, walking past Javi. He looks at you, confused but mix of anger in there too.

"Before you even go off on me, I'll explain everything if you want to settle this over food," you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, "Go talk to her for me will you? Please?.."

He could hear the hurt in your voice. So he follows Izzy. You felt alone.... Your partner was at your apartment. As you didn't see a need to bring him along. But, you immediately felt like an idiot. You should have pulled a a ay the second your lips touched Amelia's.

"God I'm an idiot," you scold yourself before walking away

You found yourself at the rec center again, punching your frustration out on a punching bag. You were so caught up on what happened you didn't even hear Javi calling out to you once you finally stopped punching the punching bag, wincing at your now bleeding knuckles.

"Hey Javi, how's Izzy?" You ask, beginning to put ointment on your knuckles and wrapping them

"Upset," he sighs, "You want to explain yourself? So do it."

"You want food in that combo my guy?" You ask

"Yeah," he smiles slightly

The two of you head to Javi's favorite food joint. You could barely eat, still scolding yourself on what happened earlier that day.

"Amelia and I had a thing when we both went to high school together. She was a Junior, I was a Sophomore," you sigh, explaining to Javi, "However, come near the end of my sophomore year I got recruited by the most popular boxing manager by 16, I told her the news that I'd be training immediately after the school year. She feared that we'd barely see each other, so she broke up with me. Who knew she would one day, magically still have feelings for me?"

"That's a whole lot to process," Javi sighs, "But I have to be there for my sister."

"That I definitely get," you agree with him, "But I want you to know to know that I'm going to make this right."

He slightly smiles at you and gives you a pat on the back before he slides a $10 tip to the waitress and makes his leave. Leaving you alone in your own thoughts. You really scolded yourself for hurting Izzy, you wanted to just march yourself over to her place and just kiss her right in front of her brother and step-dad. But, you shoved that idea into the back of your head as you believed that was also a bad idea not only for you but for her too.

Once you get home, you were so busy in your thoughts you didn't even hear your partner greet you like he always does. However, he believed you were just tired from the days work, so he let you go into your room.

"You okay?" your partner finally asks, coming into your room

"I screwed up today bud," you sigh, patting the spot next to you for him to jump up to

"What happened?" He asks, seating himself next to you

"It has come to my realization, Amelia hasn't moved on from me," You sigh, scratching the back of your head

"What makes you say that?" He asks

"She kissed me," You sigh, "Izzy saw and got upset. I tried telling her my feelings toward her are valid and true. But, I think Izzy's attraction towards me is no longer something that's there."

"I think it's still there," He states, "You should try to talk to her."

"I keep trying to call her but it always goes to voicemail," You sigh, a single tear falling from your eye, "Think I lost her bud."

"Where's the Y/N Y/L/N I know?" He asks, "The Y/N Y/L/N I know wouldn't be moping about a girl she loves."

"Well," You sigh, "It's too late for it buddy. But, thanks for trying to cheer me up."

You hop under your sheets, trying to force yourself asleep.

Part 5

#izzy garcia #izzy garcia x reader #power rangers dino fury #power rangers #power rangers imagine #amelia jones #javi garcia #ollie akana #zayto #female reader

22 notes · View notes

one-leaf-grimoire · 3 years

Text

the knight who pierced the king's heart

knight au ➼ chapter 14

warnings ➼ none

synopsis ➼ Things start to go back to normal, but schemes are growing in the shadows.

ao3 link (18+ content) ➼ here

masterlist ➼ here

author's note ➼ This is sort of a short chapter, I apologize! I haven't updated in forever but I want to get back into it! Thank you for sticking around.

By the time the next day dawned, it seemed as if everything had gone according to plan. Augustus had gotten to meet “Elizabeth Payne,” and Julius had successfully hidden her true identity. The nobles at the ball were none the wiser, relieving the burden that had been hanging over the heads of everyone involved.

Well, almost.

“Would you stop moping around? You have a long day ahead of you, you know.”

“Hmm?” Julius blinked, having been staring into the black depths of his morning coffee, not paying attention to Marx as the advisor puttered around the office. “I’m not moping, I’m just… tired.”

“You are moping. I know you too well,” Marx corrected, leafing through some parchment, organizing it for the day. “Lisa’s been gone barely half an hour, you can’t let yourself fall into disrepair everytime you’re apart.”

Julius sighed, shaking his head a little. “No, that’s not it… I mean-” He shifted in his chair, his brow furrowing a bit in annoyance. “I wish she could have stayed longer this morning. Breakfast was all planned out, with all her favorites, but she said she had to go back to her station before anyone got suspicious.”

“Well, Isn’t that a good thing? Avoiding suspicion, I mean.”

“I suppose, but still…” Julius let his gaze drift to the window. The room was bright from the morning rays of sun, the aroma of his coffee permeating the air and giving it a cozy, warm atmosphere. Julius was most at home in his office, yet today he felt so lonely. “...I wish she could stay here all the time.”

“Impossible-” Julius’s attention was drawn back to Marx as he plopped more documents down into the growing pile on his desk. “She’s got her own life, her own goals. Plus, she’d just be in danger here.” Marx frowned at Julius, feeling concern for his superior. “I know you won’t listen… but I still feel like this is a bad idea. After meeting her, I can tell that she’s a very nice girl, and you two get on very well, but one wrong move-”

“I know. Of course I know all that.” Julius’s voice cut Marx off. He was tired of having this conversation, but more than that…

I know he’s right.

Marx gulped, then let out a sigh. “Like I said… I know you won’t listen. But you’re the King- I’ll trust your judgement.”

With that, he turned and left the room in a hurry, sensing that Julius needed some alone time to sort through everything.

Julius grimaced at the sight of the paper pile, knowing a long day was ahead of him. But at the very least, it would distract him from the stress eating away at his stomach. Taking a deep breath, Julius pulled the pile towards himself, grabbing his quill and ink.

I know he’s right… not only do I pose a danger to her, but I’ll stand in the way of her own aspirations. I don’t want to do either of those things… but there must be a happy medium, right?

All he had to do was find it. In the meantime, things could stay as they were, and he would relish the bliss he felt when she was at his side.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!”

Lisa froze in place, halfway up the stairs to her room. She had gotten back to the Crimson Lion barracks later in the morning than she planned. Not only had Julius held her up as she was leaving the castle, but the town was bustling with activity, the streets practically choked with pedestrians. Damn it! I should have left before daybreak- she thought, slowly turning around to look at the bottom of the stairs. “I… was just coming back from a walk?”

Fuegoleon glared up at her, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t pretend. I came to check on you last night, apparently your day off turned into a night out.”

Lisa gulped, her mind spinning. How do I talk myself out of this!? “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, I promise! I … I just had business to attend to.”

Getting an idea, she scratched her neck, purposely avoiding his gaze in the most suspicious way possible. The best way to trick someone is to tell the truth, I suppose… “Y-You see- um- I-" With little effort, a blush appeared on her cheeks. "Er- well, It’s embarrassing, but-”

Fuegoleon blinked, slow to connect the dots, but then turned bright red the moment her words registered. “OH! Do not continue, I don’t need to know.” He sighed and started to turn away, clearly not wanting to press the issue any farther. Lisa glanced back down at him to see him look up one last time. “Er- but next time, leave a note or something? I was worried sick when I checked on you last night.” He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “You haven’t been feeling well lately, after all.”

“I’m feeling fine now.” She gave him a quick smile. “Seriously. I’ve had plenty of time to heal, so keeping me on leave any longer is just giving me time to be… idle.”

“...Indeed.” Fuegoleon couldn’t help but smile back. “Fine, you better get down to the mess hall quickly! If you want to be put to work again, I’ll put you to work.”

“Yessir!” Lisa grinned genuinely, her heart leaping as she turned to run back to her room. Yess! Finally! She hadn’t been doing proper work ever since her injury during the jousting tournament, a period of inactivity that had only been extended by the scuffle when she rescued Julius. But now, at least she would have something to focus on, something to strive for.

I can continue the path that was interrupted… And I feel like my goals are closer than they’ve ever been!

Darkness fell that night, and the city went quiet. At least, as quiet as it ever could. The closer you got to the center of the kingdom, the less it slept.

Sleep… it’s been so long since I was able to rest.

A man sat by his window, high up in a secluded inn. He could see most of the street from up here, dark and empty. Yet he could never feel that he was totally alone, not after he had failed so spectacularly.

Everything was supposed to end… I was supposed to be able to sleep happily tonight.

Movement in the corner of an alley caused him to draw back behind the edge of the curtain, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. To his relief, two drunkards were the ones staggering into the street, laughing and holding onto each other. He let out a soft breath, still very much on edge.

Damn it… is this just how my life is going to be now?

The door suddenly opened, and he whirled around. In an instant, his sword was drawn, pointed towards the intruder-

“Hey, that’s no way to greet one of your few remaining allies, is it, Patri?”

Rhya held his hands up in mock surrender, a lazy, teasing grin on his face. Patri sighed, lowering his weapon. “Maybe knock next time, creep,” he spat, turning away to look back out the window. The drunkards were gone. “Any new intell?”

“Oh? No hello or good to see you?” Rhya chuckled before sitting down in a chair, his feet swinging up to rest on the coffee table. “No sign of any Diamond spies in town looking for you. Have they sent a follow up to that threat yet?”

“No.” Patri shook his head. “They just demanded that I return and face punishment, or they’d send someone to get me. God-” In a momentary burst of anger, he made a fist and slammed it into the window frame, his frustration reaching a fever pitch. “-If only I had stayed there to see the job through myself-”

“You probably wouldn’t be here now,” Rhya cut in. “You heard the report, not a single one of their men was left alive. A whole squadron must have caught up to Julius.”

“Maybe… maybe I’d be better off that way. Now I have to find a way to make it up to them, or I’ll be living my whole life in fear.”

“Maybe we could leave the kingdom?” Rhya suggested. “Heart seems nice.”

“They’re allies of Clover, though.” Patri shook his head. “And so is Spade… although, from what I heard, not for long. But that would be a long shot, we’d never make it over the mountains.”

“You still have a chance to bring them Julius’s head,” Rhya reminded him. “Sure, he’s going to be under even stricter guard now, but still… also, there was that other request. Morris said he would vouch for you if you fulfilled it.”

“That’s an even worse idea. His demand was impossible… there are thousands of people in this kingdom, even with that very specific description, we’d never be able to find his target. Plus, I’d rather not look at Morris ever again.”

Patri’s eyes were fixed on his own mismatched ones in the reflection on the mirror.

“Fine.” Rhya sighed, leaning back in his chair, letting his eyes close. “Oh, there’s one other thing. It’s from him.”

Patri raised an eyebrow before turning back around. “Finally, he says something? He could have been a bit quicker.”

“He says, King Julius has called a meeting to discuss a plan to take out the Eye of the Midnight Sun threat. I will relay any important information to you as soon as it is over.”

Patri’s eyes widened a bit. I thought he would cut off all contact with me after the failure… there’s nothing really in it for him, after all. But… friendship is a powerful bond.

His mouth twitched, almost into a smirk.

“I see… in that case, tomorrow, we’ll rally our remaining forces and find a proper base. Then… we’ll wait. We’ll wait, then formulate our own plan to thwart theirs.”

Rhya smiled, glad to see hope glimmering in Patri’s eyes once more.

“We’ll throw this whole kingdom into chaos… and take our revenge at long last.”

next time ➼ Julius formulates a plan to take out the traitors once and for all. Meanwhile, Lisa struggles to get back into the action, doubting her path for the first time in her life.

#knight au #medieval au #julius novachrono #julius novachrono x reader #julius novachrono x oc #oc: lisa #writing #tkwptkh

5 notes · View notes

thespiralgrimoire · 3 years

Note

c-could u write smth with solid? n him being best problematic pretty boy? 🥺🥺🥺 tyyyyy <3 (dies)

Ohohoh it would be my pleasure~

I think I was both meaner and nicer to Solid than you wanted me to be but here’s Solid on his 21st birthday

On the morning of February 26th, Solid woke up with stars in his eyes. He dressed quickly and hurried to the dining room, sucking in breaths of air in search of the smells of his favorite breakfast. It wasn’t until the table came into view that he smelled anything at all, and when he did, it was only fresh waffles. No ham, or eggs, or even a quiche. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

Nozel and Nebra sat at the table, browsing the paper over cups of tea and waffles. “Morning,” Nebra greeted, her pink eyes never leaving the paper.

“You’re up early,” Nozel observed in the same disinterested fashion.

“Yeah.” He padded into the room and sank into a chair. “I was expecting a big breakfast.”

“Oh? Why is that?” Nebra asked.

Solid glowered to stave off a hurt pout. “Don’t you remember what day it is?”

Nozel and Nebra exchanged a puzzled look, but didn’t dwell on the question long before returning to reading. “The Wizard King addresses the public today, but not until this evening, which definitely doesn’t warrant a big breakfast,” Nebra said. Nozel hummed in agreement.

Solid’s shoulders slacked. He picked up a waffle and drowned it in honey. “Yeah, I guess not.”

By the time breakfast was over, Solid decided that his siblings must be playing a trick on him. They’d never made such an error before, so there was no way that this faux pas was intentional. He’d bide his time, and wait for a surprise-- probably at work. Besides, surely his other friends would remember. This was nothing to lose his head about-- even if it was the most important day of his life in six years.

To his surprise, the Silver Eagles base showed no sign of knowing about his special day. He expected some cards on his desk, or a couple casual ‘Happy birthdays’ from other knights, but no one mentioned his birthday at all. There were no cards on his desk, and no presents delivered to his office. Not that he needed presents. He was royalty; he could have anything he wanted. But didn’t the Silver Eagles know how lucky they were for the chance to wish a royal happy birthday? Why wasn’t anybody saying anything? It hadn’t been this way on his last six birthdays, which were far less important.

Maybe he wouldn’t have felt as bad if he had anything to do, but of course this was the day he had no work to catch up on. So halfway through the day, he found himself sitting in his office, glaring at his desk while no one paid him any attention. If he thought it’d make a statement, he’d leave. But it seemed like at this rate, no one would even miss him.

Finally, he decided that this could not go on. His siblings were too busy to notice, and he could dismiss the other knights forgetting (but not forgive them). But there was one person that he was sure hadn’t forgotten. And it wouldn’t hurt to do a little prodding on that front. He pulled out his communicator and dialed Langris’ number. Rubbing the desperation out of his cheeks, he set the communicator to visual mode and set it on his desk.

His boyfriend’s lovely face appeared in a magical hologram above his communicator. “Hello, Solid. What is it?”

“Hello, Langris.” He smiled easily, confident in what he was seeking. “You kept me waiting, so I called you.”

“Did I?”

Solid’s brow twitched. Forcing his smile to persist, he replied, “Yes, you did. Don’t you have something to tell me?”

Langris stared at him until the silence grew awkward. Then, he looked away. “I don’t think so.”

His smile cracked like glass. “You don’t? Are you sure?”

“I’m very busy today. If you want something, just say it.”

“Are you sure that you have nothing to say to me?”

“I have to go. Goodbye, love.” Langris severed the connection, and the hologram vanished.

Solid stared, mouth hanging open in disbelief. Anger clawed at his throat, but only heartbreak pricked at the corners of his eyes. This had to be fake. This could not be happening.

He pushed himself from his desk, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. Solid had always cried easily; a quirk that he blamed on his affinity (even though Noelle didn’t share it with him). He slammed his door open and marched out of the base, straight past several surprised knights, including his brother and sister.

“Solid, where are you going?” Nozel called.

“I’m taking a long lunch!” he barked.

He decided that if no one else was going to treat him, he’d treat himself. He bought a large and luxurious lunch at his favorite restaurant, and wasted the afternoon eating it, alone, by himself. Although plate after plate vanished, he couldn’t trick himself into a good mood, and he couldn’t bring himself to have his first legal drink by himself either. When he was finished, he decided that he’d mope around until he was ready to go home. It was his birthday, and if he wanted to throw a pity party, by God, he was going to.

The evening loomed over him as he made his way back to House Silva. He plodded onto the estate without paying the servants any mind; their “Happy birthdays” meant little to him, and made it sting that much more that none of the people he loved had remembered.

He was nearly to his room when a servant stopped him with an announcement. “Master Solid, Lord Nozel and Lady Nebra are waiting for you on the back porch.”

“Tell them I’ve gone to bed early,” he grumbled, shambling down the hall.

“...My lord, they insist on your attendance. I fear they may grow angry if you keep them waiting any longer.”

Solid clenched his jaw. Angry tears prickled in his eyes. Of course they would do something like this; adding insult to injury. He turned on his heel and stomped toward the back porch, angry mana broiling around him. They wanted to forget his birthday and threaten him with their bad moods? Well, he could threaten right back.

The back porch’s French doors were already partially open, and his mana threw them open with a bang. His voice rose to a livid boom, and then broke mid-sentence. “Who do you two think you are, treating me like this!?”

Nebra and Nozel’s heads shot up. They sat at the table, a tall pitcher of iced tea and cups neatly laid out before them. Despite his dramatic entrance, neither of them looked shaken. “We think that we are your brother and sister,” Nozel replied easily.

“And-- And that excuses your behavior!?” he cried, throwing back his head. The tears at the corners of his eyes finally made good on his promise, and hot, angry droplets dribbled down his cheeks. “I will not stand for it! I deserve better!”

“Better than being royalty?” Nozel replied incredulously. Behind her hand, Nebra giggled.

Solid stared through tear-blurred vision; his anger couldn’t keep up with his hurt feelings. “Y-Yes! How could you forget?” His mana coalesced into looming tendrils of water to hide his tears, but it did nothing to mask his quaking voice. “I’ve never forgotten your birthdays! Don’t you care?”

Nebra and Nozel exchanged a knowing look, and Nozel shook his head. With a sigh, he pulled out and turned around the chair tucked into the table between him and Solid. On its seat was a pile of cards and presents.

Solid blinked until his vision cleared. The tempestuous mana around him slowly, cautiously, settled. “Huh?”

“Solid,” Nebra chided, shaking her head. “You really thought that we would forget your 21st birthday?”

He stared.

“You are so immature.” Despite the scathing tone of his voice, Nozel wore a smile. “This bit was supposed to last for at least another five minutes, but if you ran away crying…”

Solid pressed his hands to his cheeks as he turned an embarrassed red. He scurried up to the chair and rifled through the presents. There were gifts there from everyone; from distant family, to royal knights. He dug until he found an envelope with Langris’ handwriting, and he eagerly ripped it open. The card was simple in classic Vaude fashion, with a note written inside, along with a receipt for a reservation at a high-end ski lodge.

Solid,

I apologize for not delivering this personally, but your siblings would not allow it. Forgive me for the part they forced me to play.

Love,

Langris

Solid bit his lip, beating back a wild smile. He balled up the envelope and threw it at Nozel. “Why did you do this to me? Aren’t I too old for this now?”

Noze flicked the ball aside with a smirk. “I did this to Nebra, and I will do this to Noelle. You are not the exception.”

“Sit down with us!” Nebra laughed. She lifted the pitcher and poured him a glass of tea. “We can have tea and cake while you open your presents.”

Solid pulled out the fourth chair at the table. As he sat down, he took a big swig of iced tea, and nearly spat it right back out. He gagged down the gulp and squawked, “Ugh, what is this!?”

“That, little brother,” Nebra giggled, eyes flashing mischievously, “is Long Island iced tea.”

Now, don’t misunderstand. This is a completely asshole move on Nozel and Nebra’s part. They even at their kindest, bitches. But they didn’t expect Solid to lose his shit. Hope you liked it!

For those who don’t know, the legal drinking age in the United States is 21, hence why Solid is so excited!

#Solid Silva #Nozel Silva #Nebra Silva #Langris Vaude #Black Clover #my art #Solid can be sensitive... at a treat #a treat to me

30 notes · View notes

schrijverr · 4 years

Text

A Familiar Face

Despite their looks when they return to Narnia the second time, the Pevensie siblings have all grown up once before and Peter had even been married. Upon returning he is not happy to see that an idiot of a prince has not only stolen his crown, but also the face of his lover.

Narnia Prince Caspian rewrite, but then make it gay

On AO3.

Ships: Peter/OMC that is also Caspian, Peter/Caspian

Warnings: homophobia mentioned, Peter is grieving and angry. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag somethine

~~~~~~~~~

The Pevensie siblings had been quite confused to hear about love between a man and a man or a woman and a woman when they had first started their reign. But in Narnia love is love and with their young minds this was a simple truth to accept.

For the first few years none of them really thought about it, until Peter was saved on the battlefield by a young dashing soldier, who had hauled him up with a grin and a bow.

Peter had stared after him dumbfound for a second, before his attention was pulled back to the battle by an ax nearly hitting his head.

Over the next few weeks, he couldn't get the young man out of his head. He’d tried to shake it off and didn’t want to believe it. It was only okay for others to feel like that, not him, not High King Peter. What about heirs?

No, Peter could not be like that.

However, the thoughts stayed and he found himself wanting to give in. He knew he couldn't, he had avoided finding out in which squadron the boy was so it wouldn't cloud his judgment when coming up with a strategy. But his mind did long for it.

Peter grew over it though and only saw it fit to mention it to his siblings when it had happened again. This time it had been a young knight, who had bested him during a tournament.

When he returned to the others later, after he had talked to the knight, who was called Darian. He softly said: “It is good that we came here, for I might be able to marry out of love in these lands.”

He swallowed thickly as he waited for what they would respond. He knew they were accepting of their subjects, but how would they feel about their own brother?

“Oh, oh my.” Susan replied with wide eyes, before her face softened and she smiled as she said: “Well, then I am also glad that we came here.”

Lucy engulfed him in a big hug, nearly the same height as he was now, as she said: “Oh, Peter, how wonderful for you!”

Edmund waited until the hug was over, before he knowingly smirked: “Any reason you’re telling us this now, brother? Perhaps a fellow swordsman?”

He had always been too observant for his own good and Peter could feel the blush creeping over his face as he looked away quickly. Susan and Lucy quickly caught on and soon he was pushed down on the couch as they tried to drag all the details out of him.

Later he would be grateful to them for pushing him to talk more with Darian, but now he grumbled embarrassed as he was.

Darian was kind and funny and an amazing sword fighter.

Everyday Peter fell harder and he couldn't be more overjoyed that his feelings were returned with Darian claiming he never made the best decisions when it came to love with a smirk and a wink after Peter had asked him if he didn’t mind Peter being the High King.

Susan once commented to Lucy and Edmund that she had never seen Peter happier than when he was with Darian. Something they agreed with wholeheartedly.

Peter and Darian married in the fifteenth year of their reign when Peter was twenty-seven and Darian twenty-nine. It had been a logistical nightmare to prepare the law for it to work out seamlessly, but the ceremony had been beautiful.

Both had worn white tunics and at the end their cheeks had hurt from smiling and their feet from dancing.

Three years later the four siblings disappeared chasing a white stag that was said to be able to grant any wish. Peter would never tell his siblings how he had intended to wish he and Darian could’ve had children of their own.

Darian would try and pick up the reign in their absence, but die in from heartbreak soon after his love had vanished. Leaving Cair Paraval vulnerable to attack.

Meanwhile Peter had suddenly been pushed back into the body of a child, just twelve-years-old, with the mind of an adult and the grief of a widower.

Susan had tried to broach the subject with him, but he had snapped and yelled, only breaking down to cry when she had fled the room for his outburst. He wanted to go home, he wanted to see his husband and have him hug him and tell him it was alright.

He ruined his hands trying to break the back of that goddamned wardrobe trying to return to his love to no avail.

They were stuck here and it didn’t look like they were going back as life went on.

Their mother had no clue what to do with the serious and far away eyes her children now wore and had send them away once more, this time to a boarding school.

Peter remained silent throughout almost the all years. Sure, he would talk with the others about the Beavers, Mr. Tumnus and all the other things they had left behind, but he would become withdrawn and silent whenever Darian was mentioned.

The first time he mentioned the name himself was after he’d been beaten up on a train station for the so many-th time. Susan asked: “What was it this time.”

“He bumped me.” Peter answered shortly.

“So you hit him?” Susan exclaimed.

“No, okay, that’s not the reason- just, nevermind.” Peter turned away from her, fists clenched.

“Then what was it, Peter? Just talk to me.” Susan said, trying to get through to her brother for once after all this time. They used to be so close, now it was just this.

Peter took a deep breath, then he turned around and looked her in the eye: “He looked like Darian, okay. I ran up to the guy because for a split second I thought I saw him and then it was just a stupid guy, who asked me what the fuck my problem was, so yeah, I hit him.”

“Oh, Peter.” Susan sighed as the other two gave him a look of pity.

He snapped: “Don’t ‘oh, Peter,’ me, okay, just don’t. I’m just tried of being treated as a kid.”

“We are kids.” Edmund said and sometimes Peter hated how the little shit was always right. It was annoying.

“Well, I wasn’t always.” he moped as he slumped down on the bench, “It’s been a few years and I just want to go home. How long does he expect us to wait?”

Susan gave him a sad look and softly said: “I think it’s time to accept that we live here. It’s no use pretending any different.”

She looked over to the platform and got big eyes, but before she could say something else Lucy shot up with a shriek. So, she hissed: “Quiet, Lu.”

“Something pinched me.” she exclaimed, looking around.

Peter was about to look who it had been when someone tugged on his hair from behind, Ed, the fucker. He got up and yelled: “Stop pulling.”

“Not touching you.” Edmund frowned at him.

Susan looked at the train starting to pass and asked: “What is that?”

“It feels like magic.” Lucy replied.

“Quick hold hands!” Susan told them.

Beside Peter Edmund complained, but Peter didn’t really listen and grabbed his hand. They were going home, he was going to see Darian again.

The train station turned into a cave and soon they were running on the beach and into the water while yelling a having fun. Their return was interrupted by Edmund, who asked: “Where do you suppose we are?”

“Well, where do you think?” Peter couldn't believe Edmund hadn’t realized where they were, they had ruled these lands for eighteen years, even Edmund couldn't forget that in a few years of being back in their original world.

“Well, I don’t remember there being any ruins in Narnia.” Edmund said.

That got Peters attention and he looked up. They had to rebuild their land from scratch and every ruin had been a reminder of what had been lost to the White Witch, so they had made sure none were left, but Edmund was right, again, and also annoying, again.

There was a ruin on top of a familiar hill.

A pit started to form in Peter stomach as they all hurried to put their shoes back on so that they could explore these mysterious ruins.

Lucy frowned, probably desperate not to believe, and asked: “I wonder who lived here.”

Susan picked something up from the ground and confirmed their worst fears: “I think we did.”

“Hey, that’s mine.” Edmund pulled it from her hand, “From my chess set.”

“Which chess set?” Peter asked, still hoping it all isn’t true.

Edmund didn’t care or didn’t notice as he replied: “Well, I didn’t have a solid gold chess set in Finchley, did I?”

Peter was about to break down and cry, his home, his husband to which he wanted to return so badly was ripped from him, even if he was here once more, when Lucy pulled him away from the edge with a: “It can’t be.”

Then she ran off and Peter would always be the big brother that ran after her, while he yelled: “Lucy!”

“Don’t you see?” she asked, standing on a ruined platform.

Peter desperately didn’t want to see, but still asked: “What?” hoping the answer wouldn't be what he thought it was.

“Imagine walls, and columns there and a glass roof.” Lucy sounded excited about it as she pointed and made the other look at their former home.

Before his eyes the walls rebuilt themselves in his memory along with stolen moments and good times. He confirmed: “Cair Paravel.”

They explored the ruins of Cair Paravel as they wondered what could have possibly happened and how long they had been gone.

“Catapults.” Edmund suddenly said, looking down.

“What?” Peter choked, immediately all kinds of scenarios started to whirl in his head as Darian died a thousand horrible deaths in his minds eye.

“This didn’t just happen, Cair Paravel was attacked.” Edmund explained, taking his upset for confusion.

If there was a siege, perhaps their stuff from when they were young would have been taken as well, and Peter didn’t want tot think about what certain things could to in the wrong hands. He followed old routes easily and soon he and Edmund were clearing the way to the treasury room.

There was a bit of levity as Edmund tried to cheer him up with the flash-light. Peter smiled at his brother, he appreciated the gesture, but there was still a heaviness in his heart.

“I can’t believe it. It’s all still here.” he said, glad their weapons hadn’t been taken by whoever had done this as he approached his chest, while the others rushed to theirs as well.

Lucy pulled out a dress and exclaimed: “I was so tall!”

“Well, you were older then.” Susan replied.

“As opposed to hundreds of years later. When you are younger.” Edmund added and Peter felt a stab of pain go through his heart once more. He had returned, but he was too late. His lover was dead, his home was destroyed and he hadn’t seen any of his people.

In the background the others chattered on while Peter slowly drew his sword. It felt balanced in his hand as it had always done and he read the inscription out loud to himself: “When Aslan bears his teeth, winter meets its death.”

“And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.” Lucy finished, then the realization of what it all meant sank in on her as she said: “Everyone we knew: Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers, they’re all gone.”

“I think it’s time we found out what’s going on.” Peter said, before he fell to his knees to rummage around in his chest, hoping to find some clues or at least some better clothes to wear.

He ignored the wedding tunic in his chest as he blinked away the tears, he knew that they had saved a few clothes from their youth at the bottom and he assumed that with everything as they left it, those must be there was well.

With no new clues there, they set out to find someone they could talk to in the hope that a person could tell them more about what had happened, both to Narnia and Darian. Although Peter was privately more interested in one of the two.

They meet a dwarf, Trumpkin, who was only slightly helpful even after Edmund beat him in a duel and he believed they were who they said they were. Although they did get the clue that Telmarines had invaded their country and they had been called by their Prince, Caspian.

“They used to dance.” Lucy lamented once they were in the boat.

Trumpkin gave her a look and explained: “It wasn’t long after you left that the Telmarines invaded. Those that survived retreated so deeply to the woods. And the trees have retreated so deeply into themselves that no one has heard from them since.”

“I don’t understand. How could Aslan have let this happen?” Lucy exclaimed, before Peter could ask about Darian.

“Alsan?” Trumpkin said, “I thought he abandoned us after you lot did.”

“Who took our places. Was it Darian?” Peter asked.

“Who’s Darian?” Trumpkin asked in return, stomping on the last bit of hope Peter had as the chasm in his chest opened further.

“No one.” Peter said, ignoring the looks from his siblings as he told Trumpkin: “We didn’t mean to leave, you know.”

“Doesn’t make much of a difference now, does it.” Trumpkin told him and Peter was honestly starting to get annoyed at the dwarf.

“Get us to the Narnians and it will.” Peter said determinedly. Fighting he could do, just turn off his mind and ignore the loss until it was over. Aslan must have returned them with a reason, he could figure out what had happened to Darian on his own.

None of them had realized how bad it had truly gotten until their encounter with the bear. It was all wrong, this wasn’t their Narnia, not anymore.

They walked through overgrown lands, without structures that could point them in the right way. Peter was not in the best frame of mind, but he kept pushing onward, perhaps letting his bad mood flow out in harsh comments to his siblings and the newly acquired ‘DLF’.

His siblings seemed to understand and didn’t push him. He tried to ignore the guilt at his own words, but it was easy to allow himself to wallow in the feeling. Better guilt than that ever crushing heartbreak and grief.

He just needed to find Aslan, once they found him, he could tell the Lion about everything and plead for his love to return to him.

But then Lucy saw him, but they didn’t and a small part of Peter began to doubt if Aslan would even come, even care.

However, Lucy kept on believing, which wasn’t really discouraged with how they got over the gorge. Already annoyed Peter followed her as she walked away from their camp on her own and almost got herself killed.

Peter signaled her to be quiet as he walked up to the minotaur, but before he arrived someone else came out of nowhere and clashed swords with him.

The new person left Peter unbalanced and in shock. He looked so much like Darian that it was almost unnatural, he was also just as good with a sword and after a few years without practice, Peter was on his back before he knew it.

“Prince Caspian?” he asked, starting to put together who they must’ve ran into.

“Yes.” he answered, with a slight foreign accent, “And who are you?”

Right at that moment Susan came running, calling out his name along with Edmund and Trumpkin right behind her. With the name Caspian looked at the sword as his eyes grew wide: “High King Peter?”

Peter had gotten up and replied: “I believe you called.”

“Well, yes, but I thought you’d be older.” Caspian told him.

So did I, Peter thought, getting irrationally irritated at the boy who had stolen his lovers face. He answered: “Well, if you’d like, we can come back in a few years.”

“No! No, that’s alright.” Caspian came back on his words, “You’re just- you’re just not exactly what I had expected.”

“Neither are you.” Edmund told him, looking at the minotaur and Peter was glad he was here to talk to this prince.

“A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes.” a badger said and they all hadn’t been more glad to see a talking animal.

A mouse walked up to Peter and bowed, before pledging his service. There was a slight miscommunication when Lucy couldn't help but comment on the apparent cuteness of the mouse, but Peter was glad he was here.

“Well, at least we know some of you can handle a blade.” he told the mouse.

He was even more glad when the mouse told him about the weapons they were gathering and told him as much: “Good, because we’re going to need every sword we can get.”

“Well, then, you’ll probably be wanting yours back.” Caspian offered him back his sword, the same expression on his face Darian would get whenever he had beaten Peter in combat. Wordlessly he snatched it back, before walking off. He did not want to be near this Caspian.

They were led to Aslans How and Caspian let them go in first. He apologized for the lack of luxury, but was ignored as Susan yelled: “Peter, you might want to see this.”

He ran up to her to see a carvings on the wall depicting the four of them. She looked at him and said: “It’s us.”

Next to him Lucy turned to Caspian and asked: “What is this place?”

“You don’t know?” Caspian asked with a frown and Peter kind of wanted to hit him, because of course they didn’t know, they had been away for so long that everything they did know had disappeared.

Still, he followed the prince as he showed them through the How to Aslans table. Peter silently hated seeing his face again after he pulled them back without giving him a chance to see his husband again.

Lucy saw his look and assured him: “He must know what he’s doing.”

“I think it’s up to us now.” Peter told her, not wanting to ruin her connection with Aslan, but also not in the mood to like the Lion or believe in him.

In the days after, he spent hours looking at the carvings. He still showed enough interest in all the other stuff to avoid suspicion from everyone that weren’t his siblings. But they knew who he was looking for on the walls.

There was nothing.

No clues, no tales, not even a mention. He knew this was about the four of them and Darian had only officially been part of the royal family for three years, but he couldn't imagine something so important being omitted.

Of course, there was also the option of the How being built by Darian in honor of their memory after he had left him behind, but that hurt too much to think off.

He only saw Caspian whenever he needed to do something about the war.

Peter didn’t know how he felt about that. On one hand, he was glad that he didn’t have to see that face without the person and the love he knew behind it, but on the other, he was desperate to imprint it in his mind while he still could.

Most of the time he was more glad. It was irrational to be mad at someone for not being the person you want them to be, but Peter still got angry whenever that accented voice spoke, instead of the kind teasing voice he knew.

So, he mostly ignored him and was glad of that fact.

Now, however he had to see it. Caspian had allowed him to speak, which had already irritated him, but he pushed it away to propose his plan: “Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us.”

“But that’s crazy, no one has ever taken that castle.” Caspian protested, too young to see the How for what really was.

“There is always a first time.” Peter told him, trying not to get irritated.

“We’ll have the element of surprise.” Trumpkin said, Peter was starting to like him more.

“But we have the advantage here.” Caspian argued.

“If we dig in, we could hold them off indefinitely.” Susan agreed with Caspian, making something flare up in Peters chest that he quickly pushed down.

“I for one feel safer underground.” the badger said.

Peter ignored the badger and turned to Caspian as he explained: “Look, I appreciate what you’ve done, but this isn’t a fortress, it’s a tomb.”

He had led enough sieges to know what starvation could do to people and with his own paintings on the walls it had never felt more like a final resting place, especially once you knew what had happened on that table.

“Yes, if the Telmarines are smart, they’ll starve us out.” Edmund agreed with Peter, he had always been a good right-hand man with a smart head on his shoulders and Peter was glad to have him on his side.

There was a bit of squabbling between the mouse, Reepicheep, and an squirrel, which Peter ignored in favor of asking Glenstorm: “If I can get your troops in, can you handle the guards?”

“Or die trying, my liege.” the centaur promised.

Peter was about to thank him when Lucy cut in: “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“What?” Peter asked, he appreciated Lucy’s input. He hadn’t forgotten how she had charged into battle alongside him and Edmund even if her body was too young to do so now.

“Well, you’re all acting like there are only two options: Dying here or dying there.” she said and Peter would really like to know what else she thought they could do, because in his eyes the situation was dire enough for a suicide mission and if he could save his men, he would.

Still, that third option was hard to believe and Peter already had a hard time believing these days, so he said: “I’m not sure, you’ve really been listening, Lu.”

“No, you’re not listening. Or have you forgotten who really defeated the White Witch.” she gestured to the Aslan mural on the wall.

He wanted to sigh. He knew Lucy had always had the most faith out of all of them, but couldn’t she see that Aslan had abandoned them? He did not care for this world or he would have never kicked them out, make him leave Darian behind.

It hadn’t even been Aslan who had pulled them back, just a harsh reminder that took the shape of a prince. Alsan wasn’t here anymore, it was up to them now.

“I think we’ve waited for Aslan long enough.” he told her, not missing the hurt look in her eyes, but he couldn't believe, not now, not after everything.

Peter had a plan to make, it had to be perfect or they were all doomed. He had to make sure this suicide run wasn’t for nothing.

When he finally realized he shouldn’t have given Caspian such an important roll, it was too late. He had allowed the face to make him over-calculate Caspians skills and now he was running off and ruining everything.

Getting to Miraz room and he was already there, ruining the plan by waking him. Caspian should have been ruthless. He was outnumbered, he couldn't afford to be dramatic, didn’t he see that? Beside all that, he wasn’t even supposed to be here.

“Caspian, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be at the gatehouse.” Peter was going to kill him once they got out of here. What were their troops going to do now?

The prince ignored him as the situation got more and more out of hand.

By the time they got out the bells were already ringing and all the surprise they had on their side was gone, but Peter wasn’t about to abandoned ship like that, he wasn’t like Aslan. So he ran down a different hallway as he yelled at Susan: “Our army is just outside.

Then he was yelling at Edmund, loyal Edmund, who was where he was supposed to be: “Now, Ed, now! Signal the troops.”

Edmund yelled something back, but he couldn't hear it, since he was too busy with opening the gates.

“Peter, it’s too late. We have to call it off while we still can.” Susan was next to him, but she wasn’t helping.

“No, I can still do this. Help me.” Peter told her desperately, he could still do this, he could still save Narnia, he could still make up for what he had done to his people, to Darian. Didn’t Susan see that they had to make it right again?

She started helping him along with Caspian, who should’ve been here already. As they were opening the gate, she asked him: “Just who exactly are you doing this for, Peter?”

“You know who.” he mumbled to her, but then the gate was opened and their troops ran in, so he screamed: “For Narnia.”

Then all around them there was the all too familiar chaos of battle. People were falling left and right from both sides, but they had to make it through.

“Get that gate closed.” he heard from above and soon enough the gate started to close.

Asterius was holding open the gates and it was too late. They had failed in seizing the castle. He yelled: “Fall back! Retreat!”

Glenstorm charged past, swinging Susan onto his back as she screamed at him: “Caspian.”

Peter looked around to see the idiot prince missing and he yelled back: “I’ll find him.”

Frantically he looked around for the missing Caspian. He’d hated him, still hated him, but he couldn't fail him. He was too much like Darian and he did not need to know how his husband would’ve looked like once he was dead.

A wave of relief crashed over him when he saw Caspian on horseback with an older man, presumably the professor he had wanted to free.

With that solved he set to retreating himself as well. Right as he was through the gate, Asterius collapsed and he looked back to the troops trapped inside with horror. They were going to get slaughtered.

He wanted to go back, go help them. As High King he should go back for them, he couldn't abandon his troops, but they also couldn't loose him. Then Caspian would be in charge and they would never survive with him.

Hot rage burned through his veins as he fled. Better rage than grieve and loss, he told himself, just push it down, don’t think about it.

They returned to the How lesser in number with no victory under their belts. Peter had ignored Caspian and Susan on the way back along with most of the troops that hadn’t been wounded.

“What happened?” Lucy asked, face horrified.

“Ask him.” Peter spat, nodding to Caspian.

“Peter.” Susan chided, and of course she did. She never took his side in this sort of thing, just like during the fight when she had insisted Caspian could still get to the gate in time. Like that had gone over so great.

“Me?” Caspian sounded indignant, “You could have called it off. There was still time.”

“No, there wasn’t thanks to you.” Peter shouted at him, “You’re too emotional and inexperienced for battle. You might as well have killed them with your own hands. If you’d stuck to the plan, those soldiers would still be alive right now.”

“And, if you’d just stayed here like I suggested, they definitely would be.” Caspian yelled back, like Peter hadn’t explained to him why they couldn't stay there.

“You called us, remember. You called us, because you couldn't handle it on you own.” Peter spat at him.

“My first mistake.” Caspian bit back.

“No, your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people.” Peter told him coldly, “You abandoned them in the middle of the fight when they needed you most, for a personal vendetta, great leadership.”

“Hey! You abandoned Narina first, in case you have forgotten.” Caspian yelled back, the words cutting through Peter like a knife.

“You think I abandoned my home? Think I left my life behind on purpose?” Peters stare was ice, “I was forced out. Stuck. Back into the body of child. Left in a world that wasn’t my own anymore, tossed to the side, like my people here, who got invaded by your people, in case YOU have forgotten. You have no more right to it than Miraz does. You, him, your father. Narnia is better off without the lot of you.”

Caspian had no response to that and just yelled as he drew his blade. Peter didn’t mind, he was mostly back in shape and he would love to beat the others face in, no matter how much it would hurt. He had seen his love bleeding on the battlefield before, he could bear it.

They were stopped by Edmund, before anything could really happened and when Trumpkin was healed, Peter stormed off. He needed to be alone right now.

He had been planning to yell at Aslans mural when he saw Caspian, hand outstretched to the White Witch as she beckoned him close. His eyes grew wide as a hand squeezed his heart tighter. He ran towards Caspian, Edmund and Trumpkin on his heels, and yelled: “Stop.”

There was a fight, but he heard the White Witch call Caspian and he couldn't let it happen, not again, not her.

He pushed Caspian away, another person echoing through his mind, as he yelled at her: “Get away from him.”

But then he was stood in front on her and she gave him such a pitying look as she said: “Peter, dear, I have missed you. Come on, just a drop. You know you can’t do it alone.”

Peter tried to fight her and although he wasn’t moving away, he also wasn’t giving in. She reached for him and whispered: “I can get him back for you. Darian was such a darling.”

A shock went through his body as a bit more fight drained out of him and he hesitated before lowering his sword. He wanted to give in so badly, to be able to return to the arms of his lover, have him by his side again, smiling and making him laugh with a stupid joke.

Then the wall shattered and the White Witch disappeared, leaving only Edmund standing there, looking as kingly as Peter remembered him to be.

If it had been anyone but Edmund he would have gotten mad, now he just looked defeated as his little brother told him: “I know. You had it sorted.”

Edmund left and now it was just Caspian and Peter along with the remnants of the ice where the White Witch had stood. Caspian sagged to the ground and buried his head in his head as he took a few shaky breaths.

He looked so unlike Darian, whom he had only known as self assured and happy, and after that Peter could hardly blame him for almost giving in. So, he sat down next to him and looked at the carving of Aslan with him.

“She offered me my uncles head on a platter.” Caspian softly confessed after a few minutes of silence, “It seemed so easy, just shake her hand this would all be over.”

“I know how that feels, Edmund knows it too. Happens to the best of us.” Peter comforted him.

“Edmund?” Caspian asked.

“Not my tale to tell.” Peter answered.

“Oh.” it was quiet for a few seconds, then Caspian asked: “What did she offer you?”

For a moment Peter considered not telling him, but the prince had told him and he needed his trust if their last stance against Miraz was going to be a success. So he said: “She offered me help, for all this. And,” he hesitated, “and a chance to see my husband again.”

“Your husband?” Caspian exclaimed surprised.

“I know we don’t look it, but when we left Narnia I was thirty. Lucy was already twenty-seven, if you can believe that.” he told him, “When we returned to our world we were the same age as when we entered. It has just been a few years for us there, not centuries.”

“That explains some things, I am sorry.” Caspian said, “I did not know you had been married.”

“No need to apologize. It seems like no one remembers him.” Peter said sadly, then he sighed: “I just wish to know what happened to him.”

It was silent again, then Caspian asked: “What was his name. What was he like?”

That was the first time someone had asked him that. All his siblings had known Darian and no one back in their world knew of him, nor anyone here.

A bit of happiness floated up in his chest that he could talk to someone about him, without getting a pitying look.

“His name was Darian,” Peter smiled softly, “He was amazing. He was kind and funny and good with a sword, beat me the first time we met at a tournament. We were married for three years before I disappeared. He looked a lot like you actually, but different accent. Perhaps I put some of my grief about him on you, for that I apologize.”

Caspian thought over his words, before he replied: “He sounds like a lovely person. I can understand how being thorn from your word and pushed back with healing scars and no explanation can leave one irritated. I do not hold it against you.”

“And for that I thank you.” Peter told him.

“No need to thank me.” Caspian said, “This might not be anything, but all I have learned about Narnia came from professor Cornelius, I can ask him if he know something about what happened to your husband.”

“If you did so, I would forever be in your debt.” Peter smiled.

“Like I can ever repay you for helping me, High King Peter.” Caspian replied.

“Call me, Peter.” Peter told him, “It looks like you’re going to be my equal if we make it out, might as well start acting like it.”

“Alright then, Peter.” Caspian said, smiling as well.

They leaned back against the table and Caspian asked: “Can you tell me more about back then? About the Golden Age? I hear so much, but know so little. I wish to know more about this land if I am to rule it one day.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Peter told him as he started telling Caspian about the rebuilding of their home, the wars, the feasts, the treaties and the small moments of peace.

Late at night after many tales from back then, Caspian thanked him once more, before he retreated for the night. Peter stayed there in front of Aslan as he wondered if he would ever return to them and if he could do what the White Witch had promised.

He was still sitting there the next day when Lucy sat down next to him and looked up at Aslan as well.

“You’re lucky, you know that.” Peter broke the silence.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“To have seen him. I wish he’d just give me some kind of proof.” Peter sighed, “All I have is a too small army and no clue how Darian died.”

Tears sprung in his eyes and Lucy threw one arm over his shoulders as she said: “Maybe we’re the ones who need to prove ourselves to him.”

He looked at her and could see the smart woman she had been, who had kept hope in the hearts of their men and themselves. Lucy always had the most faith, if she still believed it would be alright, it had to be.

Maybe he couldn't believe in Aslan right now, but he could believe in Lucy.

Before he could reply to her, however, Edmund stormed in. He looked tense as he said: “Pete, you better come quickly.”

Then he hurried away again as Peter and Lucy rushed after him. Outside the Telmarine troops marched. The waiting time was over, they needed a plan and quick.

Luckily, the faith he had placed in Lucy wasn’t for nothing and she had a plan. Now they just needed to hold Miraz off for as long as they could.

“Cakes and kettledrums! That’s your next big plan? Sending a little girl into the darkest parts of the forest alone?” Trumpkin wasn’t happy with Lucys plan it seemed.

“You forget she is Queen Lucy the Valiant, my friend.” Peter said, “It’s our only hope and I trust her to come through.”

“And she won’t be alone.” Susan added.

“Haven’t enough died already.” Trumpkin was certain this plan was doomed.

At least the badger, Trufflehunter, was there to calm him: “Nikabrik was my friend too, but he lost hope. Queen Lucy hasn’t and neither have I.”

He seemed to have the right idea Peter thought approvingly. Reepicheep chanted: “For Aslan.”

And a bear echoed, with that settled Peter turned to the next point, keeping Miraz troops away from the forest. Behind him he heard Trumpkin say: “I’m coming with you.”

“No, we need you here.” Lucy told him, she knew war well enough to know each and every soldier counted.

“We need to hold them off until Lucy and Susan get back.” he said, looking over the map and calculating their numbers, knowing they didn’t have enough.

“If I may?” Caspian stepped forwards.

Peter would have shut him down by now before, but he knew Caspian was trying to win, trying to be a leader worthy of Narnia. And he had the same pleading eyes Darian had had, which he never had been able to refuse.

So he allowed him to speak.

“Miraz might be a tyrant and a murderer, but as King, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people. There is one particular thing that may buy us some time.” Caspian said as he began to explain his plan.

Grinning Peter told Edmund to start writing a duel challenge, his brother had a way with words, so he only gave the order: “Make it sting.”

Edmund grinned in return and before Peter knew it they were anxiously awaiting his little brothers return. Beside him Caspian asked: “Is he going to be alright?”

Peter glanced over and saw genuine concern. He smiled and assured Caspian: “Ed is always alright in these sort of things. I once witnessed him insult the entire royal house of the Lonely Islands, before he convinced them to surrender to us, without them even noticing.”

“Really?” Caspian asked with big eyes.

“Jup, really.” Peter confirmed with a proud grin.

In the How behind them Trumpkin was making sure Lucy and Susan would be on their way safely, before joining Peter and Caspian just in time for Edmunds return.

Peter got ready for his fight, knowing that Glenstorm was keeping an eye on the forest to make sure his sisters would be safe. He knew they were deadly on their own, but the big brother instinct stopped him from leaving them unguarded.

In front of him Miraz said: “There is still time to surrender.”

“Well, feel free.” Peter had won enough fights not to be intimidated by a man with a metal beard on his helmet.

“How many more must die for the throne?” Miraz asked him, trying to get a rise out of him.

Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes as he replied: “Just one.”

Then the fight started for real, swords swinging through the air as they clashed. He and Miraz were dancing around each other, looking for any weak spots. Muscle memory took over for the most part, but his body wasn’t the same as the last time he’d been here.

He made a wrong step and was on his back, tripping over Miraz feet. He kept rolling to break his fall, but Miraz stepped on his shield and his arm twisted, making him cry out in pain.

Trying to get away, he kept on blocking, but it wasn’t looking good. It was a stroke of luck he managed to trip up Miraz as well.

Both got up quickly and he saw Glenstorm riding with Susan on his back. Caspain gave him a short nod, before rushing towards them, giving him a thumbs up, but Peters attention was already back on Miraz, who asked: “Does his highness need a respite?”

“Five minutes.” he needed to know what happened to Lucy.

“Three.” Miraz said and Peter was willing to take that.

They limped back to their respective sides and slumped in their seats. With fear in his eyes he asked: “Lucy?”

“She got through, with a little help.” Susan told him, nodding to Glenstorm.

“Thank you.”

Glenstorm bowed his head: “It was my honor and duty, but your sister oversells it, they did not need much help.”

Peter turned back to Susan and nodded to the How: “Better get up there, just in case. I don’t expect the Telmarines will keep their word.”

Susan quickly hugged him, making him wince in pain. She let go if burned and softly apologized, he waved it away and assured her he was alright.

“Take care.” she told him.

“Keep smiling.” Edmund said next to him, signaling to him that he was being watched and shouldn’t show weakness.

“I think it’s dislocated.” he told Edmund, then he a sudden thought came up in him “What do you think happens back home if you die here? Would I go to the same afterlife as- …You know, you’ve always been there, after Darian. I never really-”

His thank you and maybe farewell speech was cut off by Edmund, who relocated his shoulder and sternly said: “Save it for later.”

It wasn’t the first time they gave each others words that might become their last, but Edmund knew Peter could survive this and he wasn’t about to listen while the other talked himself into a spiral that could effect his performance.

And with that the fight started again. It was harsh and it hurt, but Peter was managing this time around. He had been able to study how his opponent fought and was ready with some new strategies to try.

He practically had Miraz when the man yelled: “Respite! Respite!”

“Now is not the time for chivalry, Pete.” Edmund shouted from behind and Peter knew this. Still, he hesitated. He was High King Peter the Magnificent, it would be wrong to kill a man unarmed, he had won.

Edmund might be Just, but he could be a cold blooded judge and had always fared better in backroom backstabbing than duels, which said a lot seeing that he was already an amazing duelist.

Peter lowered his sword and walked away. The moment his back was turned Edmund began to shout: “Look out!”

He dodged just in time and cursed himself, how many times did he have to learn to listen to Edmund before that lesson stuck? His little brother had proved himself to be wise beyond Peter many times and still he forgot.

But, Miraz was weakened and Peter was not intending to stop right now. With a few blows he had the self-proclaimed King on his knees before him.

“What’s the matter boy? Too cowardly to take a life?” he asked tauntingly, not realizing that the boy in front of him was way more than he seemed.

Looking back Peter was every inch the High King he claimed to be as he said: “I am not cowardly and I have taken many lives on many different battlefields. I just know when a life is not mine to take.”

He offered Caspian the sword, who took it with determination. He had earned this kill, if he wanted it, it was his for the taking. He raised the sword slowly as his uncle told him: “Perhaps I was wrong. It seems you have the making of a good Telmarine King after all.”

Caspian screamed and plunged the sword into the soil. There was fury in his eyes as he said: “Not one like you. Keep your life, but I am giving the Narnians back their kingdom.”

As he walked back to them everyone cheered, but Peter and Edmund exchange looks. They had just seen how treacherous a Telmarine could be with your backed turned to them and they did not trust them to keep theirs turned.

Soon they were proven right as Miraz died at the hands of one of his own men and the troops were called to arms anyway.

Peter quickly found Caspians eyes and the prince nodded at him self assured, before he rode back into the How, while Peters heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t seen Darians eyes this time, but still there was that reaction as he started to count.

The fight was brutal and Peter was keeping a strong face because he had to, because he couldn't fail once more. He couldn't disappoint Lucy or Caspian or Edmund or Susan or any of the men under his care, he needed to keep them safe for Aslans sake.

With no Lucy in sight, however, there was no other choice. He called out: “Back to the How,” he wouldn't make the same mistake twice, they were retreating. Now.

But their escape was cut off as the How collapsed and there was no other choice than turn back to face the Telmarines once more. With Edmund by his side and Caspian on the other of the battlefield they charged again.

Then the battlefield was filled with trees and Peter smiled to himself, not all hope was lost. He rushed over to where he had seen Caspian last and pulled him up with a grin that was returned. Looking back to the fight he shouted: “For Aslan!”

And they charged again, making the Telmarines retreat back to the river, where they were intercepted by what could only be Aslan and Lucy.

With the Telmarines dealt with, the three of them and Caspian knelt before Aslan as they waited for him to speak: “Rise, Kings and Queens of Narnia.”

Everyone except Caspian rose, surprising Peter, but also making a wave of pride surge through him when Caspian responded to Aslan with: “I do no think I am ready.”

And he could not agree more with the Lion as he said: “It’s for that very reason that I know you are.”

After that they got interrupted by Reepicheep and his friends, while Peter threw an arm around Caspians shoulders and smiled at him, getting one in return, before he let go.

Then the four of them were busy helping Caspian set up and make everything go more smoothly. He at least had the luck that there was already a system in place that he could mold to fit the current situation instead of having to start anew, but it was still a lot of work.

Peter and Caspian were almost constantly together and Peter had grown very fond of the pri- uhm, King.

With very fond, he meant he had fallen for him and he had fallen hard, but he did not want to burden the young man with it, for it felt he was projecting Darian onto him, which would be unfair to him.

Still that did not stop his eyes from lingering and his lips from smiling as he found himself seeking out Caspians company more often. Finding he had a bigger sense of humor than the dire situation they had met in, had allowed.

He still missed Darian so much, but it felt like the salt was removed from the wound and he could start to heal now. He had asked Aslan about him, but the Lion had only responded: “He died peacefully in bed, trying to care for Narnia the best he could.”

“Can you bring him back?” he had asked as well.

“Maybe if you look he is already here.” Aslan had said mysteriously, “All will be revealed later, do not worry, Peter.”

And with that he had left Peter to his own.

Now he and Susan were walking through the courtyard and she commented lightly: “So you and Caspian have grown close.”

He blushed and replied: “I have become quite fond of him, I must confess. But I fear I might only see him as replacement and I cannot do that to him, he deserves better.”

“You really have a magnificent heart.” she teased him, but there was truth in her statement.

“And you are too gentle, Su.” he told her.

Before she could say something else, they were interrupted by Caspian, who called out: “We are ready. Everyone has assembled.”

They hurried to the tree where Caspian addressed his people: “Narnia belongs to the Narnians just as it does to man. Any Telmarines who want to stay and live in peace are welcome to. And for any of you who wish, Aslan will return you to the home of our forefathers.”

One of the Lords called out: “It has been generations since we left Telmar.”

“We are not referring to Telmar.” Aslan took over, “Your ancestors were sea-faring brigands, pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world, the same world as our Kings and Queens. It is to that island I can return you. It is a good place for any who wish to make a new start.”

It was quiet for a moment, then Gozelle stated: “I’ll go. I will accept the offer.”

Next to him Prunaprisma stepped forwards as well with her child and said: “So will we.”

“Because you have spoken first, your future in that world will be good.” Aslan told them as the tree unwrapped into a portal through which they disappeared.

“How do we know he is not leading us to our deaths?” someone from the crowd called out.

“Sire, if my example can be of any service, I will take eleven mice through with no delay.” Reepicheep said with a bow to Aslan.

“I can go.” Peter offered.

He got looks from his siblings and Lucy frowned: “Why Peter? You love it here, this is your home, do you want to leave? Go back to where they hate you for nothing?”

Peter gave her a sad look: “I do love it here and I do not want to go, but these people need to be assured and I leave this place in good hands. Beside, there is a lot of hurt for me here too, I do not even know where my husband is buried, Lu.”

“So you have not figured it out yet.” Aslan asked.

“I tried, Aslan, I did. I searched high and low, but there is no headstone here.” Peter told him.

“What is he talking about, Peter?” Susan asked.

“He told me Darian is already here, but I cannot find him and the search is hurting. I want to believe, but I do not wish to chase false fantasies and keep opening up a wound that should be healing.” Peter explained.

“My dear boy.” Aslan said, “In my land people can choose to stay there if they wish or be reborn to find their true love again.”

Peters eyes grew wide as the meaning of what had just been revealed to him sunk in. It was no miracle he had been brought back now, that the person he met with a duel wore the face of his lover and reminded him so terribly of Darian.

He turned to Caspian is shock, who wore the same expression on his face as he too, realized what had just been said.

“Is that really true?” Caspian asked Aslan, “Was I Darian in a former life?”

Aslan nodded and Peter started crying. Unsure of what to do Caspian approached and softly said: “If you cannot love me back that is okay and I shall let you return to the world you came from without protest.”

“Love you back?” Peter asked, hope building up in his chest.

Caspian blushed and it was even prettier than he remembered as he admitted: “Well, I never claimed I make the best decisions when it comes to love.”

He could not know how achingly similar it was to the last time he had confessed and more tears flowed out of Peters eyes as he embraced Caspian. He quietly asked: “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

Nodding Caspian pulled back and allowed Peter to bring their lips together as they kissed softly, a thousand words hidden in a kiss.

When they pulled back people cheered and Peter saw his siblings smile at him. Both of them blushed scarlet, but could stop the big grins from taking over their features as they stuck close together, hands fitting perfectly in one another.

Aslan turned to the crowd and said: “I myself shall walk through the portal. After I am through, it shall remain open for a day, then it shall close forever. Think wisely of whether you go and what you bring with you.”

Then he turned to the siblings and said: “I was truly an honor to have met you. You shall help the new King greatly. Till we meet again.”

Lucy embraced him in a big hug, tears falling down her face as she clutched his manes tightly and said: “Thank you, Aslan. Goodbye.”

The others also said goodbye to the Lion, before he roared to his people and walked through the portal without looking back. He was not needed for now, he had left his kingdom in the right hands and he could only look forward to a better future.

#RR writing #narnia #peter pevensie #peter pevensie x caspian #peter pevensie x caspian x #caspian x #prince caspian #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #aslan #narnia prince caspian

8 notes · View notes

love-minor-poltergeist · 4 years

Note

Hi I really enjoyed your Cuphead scenarios :) If you're still taking asks, could I ask for romantic scenario with Grimm Matchstick?

A/N: Grimm seems like a big ol’ scaly sweetheart and he deserves all the love in the world tbh…This is also my first time writing for this sweet boy, so lemme know if you want me to redo this anytime!

(Also, I’m super sorry for the long wait. I had an idea that ended up growing out of hand, and here we are :’D)

Word Count: 5974

Warnings: None

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

The sweet aroma of French vanilla and cocoa scented the air like a heavy perfume. Most would describe the smell as overwhelming, even too sugary, but it was simply the norm for anyone who worked for Baroness von Bon Bon. In the case of one Grimm Matchstick, his nose had grown mostly numb from years of handling fires and smoke.

However, today seemed to prove the opposite for the dragon, as he can already feel the faint traces of a headache slowly start to creep in. He can feel the weight in his stomach worsen the longer he dwelled in the Baroness' private guest room, the soft embroidered silk cushions of the couch he sat on doing nothing to ease his tense muscles.

Across from him sat Bon Bon herself, quietly puffing away at the slender cigarette holder wedged between two thin fingers. She calmly leaned against the back of her armchair, amber eyes lidded as she stared at the small, thin book that laid on top of the ornate coffee table between them.

Grimm could feel his throat grow warmer the longer he sat there, the familiar ashy taste of smoke hitting his tongue as he fiddled with a loose scale on his hand. He lost track of how long he and Bon Bon had been sitting in silence, and the dragon wasn't too sure if he wanted to interrupt the smaller woman before him.

Before the dragon could ponder further, his friend's smooth, calm voice interrupted his train of thought.

"I take it that the book I lent you wasn't much help?" Bon Bon leaned forward, chin propped up on a gloved hand.

Grimm felt a blush warm his cheeks as he silently nodded. Dark eyes flitted over to his lap, only occasionally straying away to stare at the unhelpful manual between them.

Courteous Courtship for the Romantically Clumsy had proven to be a humiliating bust, to put it lightly. Grimm had tried his absolute best to follow what the manual had told him, he truly did. However, each time he had tried to approach and woo you, it always ended in one of two ways:

He had either ended up growing tongue-tied at the last minute, which led to him fumbling until he was a red mess and you offered to get the nurse from the medical tent, or you had given him that small, sweet smile you saved for him and thanked him for being so nice.

Not smooth, handsome or dashing as a knight like the book insisted he’d be after reading the entire thing back to front, just a nice friend who was just shy and viewed you in a perfectly platonic light.

Grimm let out a low, anguished whine before he shoved his face into his hands, distressed. Across from him, Bon Bon let out a small sigh. The calm and collected mask she wore was fading as a worried frown pulled on her lips, hard amber eyes softening at the sight before her.

She had been the first one Grimm had come to about his little crush on you, and a part of her couldn’t but feel a tad responsible for this predicament.

You had happened to be the newest addition to her work staff, which meant that she held the most contact out of both of them. Despite the sometimes grueling workdays and the days where her temperament was far from friendly, you had always been a sweet-tempered little thing.

You were a wee-bit oblivious (well, maybe more so very oblivious), but kindness and dedication were your strong suits.

Thinking further about it now, it wasn’t surprising to Bon Bon at all that Grimm ended up developing a crush on you.

He was rather shy and soft-spoken, and despite his towering stature, it was easy to forget Grimm was there.

Most people usually brushed him off as rather dull once they had spoken to him after his fire-handling performances, which didn’t do much for the dragon’s already fragile self-confidence. He ended up growing rather lonely because of it.

But then you came along.

You had happened to be a frequent attendee of his performances, so frequent that Grimm had almost always expected to see you in the crowd when it was his turn to perform.

‘They m-m-made me a little nervous at first. But then we started talking, and well, I got even more jittery. I m-m-mean, they’re adorable, Bonnie! I can’t help but be a little bit happy that they like watching me!’ Grimm had told her once.

Even before Bon Bon began to help out her timid friend, Grimm had already been a tiny bit infatuated with you.

When the two of you finally started talking to each other during your breaks, it was enough to make him fall head over heels. You were always eager to greet him, always eager to hear about how he was doing and what he was planning later.

Hell, you had ended up earning such a high place in his heart that Grimm even decided to share the few musical pieces he’s worked on with you. Bon Bon herself had been the only other person to know about Grimm’s hobby.

In other words, the dragon had it bad for you. To see the sweet dragon so torn up about this was enough to make Bon Bon’s chest ache.

With another light puff of her thin cigarette, Bon Bon stared down at the dating manual in between the two of them.

What to do, what to do…

It was already evident that it had been no help whatsoever, and the only reason she kept that outdated, poorly-written excuse for a book around was that Grimm had insisted on borrowing it.

She quietly let out a scoff at the thought and idly flicked her cigarette over a nearby ashtray.

She had highly doubted it would have helped him win you over anyway. You seemed far too fond of Grimm’s actual personality than some ridiculous forced persona he had tried to put on. After all, why else would you keep visiting him on your breaks? Why else would your gaze soften the moment Grimm’s back turned away from you? For someone as attentive as the dragon in mention, he sure was (almost annoyingly so) oblivious to the idea that his little crush may not be as one-sided as he feared.

The candied noble lets out another sigh, her brow furrowing in frustration.

She loved Grimm. She truly did. He was always a delight to be around, and he was a sweet reprieve from dealing with infuriating business partners or Beppi for an entire day. However, after all of these failed attempts (the dating manual was far from the first botched plan), two of the most oblivious fools together was beginning to wear her patience thin.

“ ‘m s-s-sorry, Bonnie. I know you probably have better things to do…” Grimm trailed off, and it’s enough to snap the baroness back into attention.

“What? No, no, Grimm, it’s fine. I’m,” She paused for a moment. “I’m just thinking, is all.”

“O-oh, okay.”

His dark eyes lowered back to his lap as the pair fell silent again.

With the thin cigarette holder still burning away in her hand, Bon Bon quietly stared at the man across from her.

He was doing that thing again, that thing where he tried not to look as miserable as he felt on the inside but failed majorly. The way his floppy ears drooped sadly was more than enough to form a crack in her stoic mask.

The last thing Bon Bon wanted to do was force him into an uncomfortable situation, but she didn’t think she'd be able to take another failed attempt. With the sight of a crestfallen, soft-hearted fool like him laid out before her, it was the fuel she needed to take matters into her own hands finally.

She takes in a small breath before lifting the thin holder to her lips. The soft, subtle burn of cigarette smoke fills her lungs as she takes in one last puff before clapping her hands.

Within seconds, a small peppermint dressed in a pink maid’s uniform hesitantly peaked her head through the double doors. Bon Bon quickly waved her in.

Bon Bon spared another glance towards the dragon not too far away, and she made a mental hum as he hadn’t moved from his slump. Good, she needed him to remain oblivious for the time being just so that she could reach the midpoint of her impromptu plan.

Just as the round little maid held out a pink ceramic ashtray, the baroness silently leaned over to the side of her head. Watching Grimm from the corner of her eyes, Bon Bon quietly whispers.

“Could you send up our little recruit? The one with the penchant for a certain green gentleman?”

Red and white brows knitted together for a moment, but they soon raised as the maid’s eyes lit up when she quickly caught on. She gave her boss an eager nod, silently mouthing a small “thank you, my baroness.” With another nod, Bon Bon handed off her cigarette, holder included, before calmly leaning back onto her chair.

Cheeks mottled with an eager flush, the maid gave her boss one last giddy nod before hurrying off to the door, the ashes from the tiny tray in her hands nearly spilling from her eager pace.

The door opened and closed with a hurried slam that resonated throughout the room, causing Bon Bon to flinch lightly. Grimm, however, merely spared a small glance behind him before sighing.

Just as he was moving to stare at his lap again dejectedly, Bon Bon cleared her throat. A wave of sheepish embarrassment washed over him, as he had completely forgotten that his friend was right in front of him amid his moping!

“Oh, sorry, Bonnie. Did you need something?”

A hint of annoyance flashed across the baroness’ face for a brief moment, and she nearly clicked her tongue. She gently shook her head, though, and took in a deep breath, her eyes slipping closed briefly before continuing.

“Well, Grimm, maybe it’s time you had a reminder about our little goal here. Don’t you agree?” She said, chin perched on a gloved hand.

“Uhh, okay?” Grimm’s brow furrowed in confusion, apprehension filling his stomach.

And that apprehension spiked into a nervous sweat when your name slipped past her heart-shaped lips.

"You like them a lot, don't you?"

The dragon nodded.

"And you wish to court them, correct?" She continued.

He nodded again, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

"Well, why don't you first think of what sort of date you would take them on? Not what some trashy dating book told you.."

Grimm's shoulders immediately tensed up, biting down on his lip to hold back the sheepish squeak steadily bubbling up in his throat. While Bon Bon had been there for him for all his ups and downs, not to mention that she probably knew him better than anyone on Inkwell, sharing what kind of dates he's daydreamed about was a little…embarrassing.

"Bonnie, are you sure? It's kind of-"

"Grimm, I've known you for years now. I assure you, whatever fantasies you may have are probably nowhere near as humiliating as you think they are," She interrupted in a flat voice, waving her dainty hand.

She had a good point. Then again, Grimm supposed as someone of her social status, she probably has seen worse.

The dragon nervously fidgeted in place for another few seconds, taking his tail into scaly hands as he sucked in a deep breath. He could feel the smaller woman's stare focused on him, and he couldn't help but feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. Grimm quietly counted to ten to ease his nerves.

With one last nervous breath, Grimm started.

"Ah, well, I know it's probably not the best idea for a first date, but I thought it'd be nice to take them to the clip joint. N-n-not to drink or anything like that! But to hear the band performing there! M-m-my friends in the band over there would like them, too!"

Bon Bon felt the beginning of a smile tug on her lips. Of course. Leave it to Grimm to find a way to make a hole-in-the-wall place like the clip-joint sound charming. She quietly waved for him to continue.

"And if it hasn't gotten too late, I'd think it'd be awfully swell to see if some of the bakeries are still open. It's usually nice and quiet in the later hours. M-m-makes me feel a lot less antsy…" Grimm raised a hand to his cheek, turning his head off to the side.

"...It'd be nice to talk, you know? I mean, we kind of already do that a lot when they're on their break, but I just like spending time with them."

A toothy smile broke out on his face, a soft red dusting his scaly cheeks.

Bon Bon, on the other hand, felt her chest growing tighter by the minute. Dear heavens, she hoped that her impromptu plan would work.

Then, as if some divine force had finally willed them into existence, Bon Bon had heard the familiar click of tiny heels against tiled floors.

She quietly made a mental note to give the maid a raise after this. For someone with legs as tiny as hers, the woman worked fast.

Bon Bon ignored the growing sweat in her palms as she quietly cleared her throat. The dreamy, faraway look in Grimm's eyes quickly faded away as he jumped. He whipped his head back towards her.

"O-oh, sorry. Too much?" He asked, too focused on his friend to register the two sets of footsteps growing closer.

"Not at all, Grimm," Bon Bon cleared her throat again. "I was just wondering something...How would you ask them out on a date?"

Grimm made a choked sound, his eyes wide and nervous.

"It's just…We've been trying to follow the advice written by some old fart who died years ago and you..." Bon Bon trails off for a moment, her lips pulling into a small frown, her brows creasing in worry, "Well, it just feels like you've been doing everything you can to follow someone else's idea of the ‘right’ way to like someone.."

Her voice grew quiet, eyes lidded as her gaze trailed over to the book between them. The pages have long since taken a yellowish hue from age, the cover nearly-pristine from sitting untouched in her family’s library for untold amounts of years.

“Bonnie, I,” Grimm trails off for a moment. “I know it’s dumb. But it’s just… what if they don’t like me?”

A sharp pang filled the smaller woman’s chest. She could feel the threads of guilt begin to weave themselves into the back of her head, chastising her for growing tired and impatient with her friend. The voices increased louder in volume with each passing minute as heeled feet drew closer.

There wasn’t time to turn back, though.

“Grimm, I know you’re afraid that they don’t feel the same, but I think it’d be better for you in the long run if you just came to them like you normally talk to them. If they say no, then they say no, and you’ll be fine. They’re not going to outright shun you. They like you for you.”

The dragon sat quietly for a few moments, eyes glued down to his hands as the stone weight grew heavier in the baroness’ stomach.

She wasn’t typically one to panic when it came to situations like these, but the thought of everything going up in flames had already taken root. It wouldn’t be long until the footsteps reached the door, and she needed to act fast.

While her hands grew clammier under velvetine gloves, Bon Bon took in a sharp breath before forcing herself to stand up. She walked towards him tentatively, the same way you’d go about approaching a fragile, injured bird, and gently reached towards him. Grimm didn’t move away as gloved hands cup his face.

Painted lips offered up a weak smile.

“Besides, I think they’d much prefer something real from you than whatever that was you tried to give them last week. It was a little painful to watch you try to act like one of those old-timey knights. ”

Grimm groaned, eyes sliding closed as he made a weak whine.

“You promised that we’d never speak of that again…” He mumbled, desperately fighting back a smile as Bon Bon quietly snorted.

“I know, I know… These lips will stay sealed, but you have to promise me that you’ll try to ask them out as yourself,” She chastised, almost tutting at the towering dragon before her.

“I-I... I will. It’s just nerve-wracking,” he mumbles.

“I know it is, Grimm, but you-”

Bon Bon was suddenly cut off by the sound of a tiny fist rapping at the door, causing the dragon in her hands to jump and pry himself away. She fought back the urge to let out a frustrated growl, and instead pinched the space between her brows.

Dammit, it looks like she has to move now.

Sparing the door one last glance, she turned her head back towards Grimm.

Think fast, Bon Bon.

“I think that’s for me. One of my business partners had wanted to call me about a shipment arriving later in the month,” She said curtly, desperately hoping that Grimm wasn’t able to hear how her heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Oh! That’s fine, Bonnie. I think it’s about time I head out anyways-”

“NO!”

Grimm immediately shrunk back into his seat, eyes wide.

“I mean, it will only take a few minutes or so to finish up. Wait here, please? I’ll have one of the maids bring over some tea.”

Before the man could even begin to protest, the baroness was already out the door, leaving him glued to his seat, absolutely dumbfounded at what just transpired.

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

Once she had closed the door behind her, Baroness von Bon Bon immediately whipped her head towards you. Her bright amber eyes practically stared into your soul as she moved to grab your shoulders with an iron-tight grip.

A startled noise barely even escaped your lips before she spoke.

"You. I need you to return the book on the guest room coffee table back to the library," She pauses for a second. "Be sure to take your time, though."

Just as you were about to ask if she was alright (you were certain those were beads of sweat you spy running down on her face, after all), she had already turned to face your coworker.

"And you, please bring some tea for our guest. He must be parched right about now."

You could only see the side of her face right now, but you swear that you saw something flash in her eyes, that particular 'something' proving enough to make the far more paranoid part of your brain act up.

It didn't help that the maid who brought you here seemed to be in on whatever was happening right now, the small peppermint beside you giving the taller woman an eager "yes, my baroness!" before all but bolting off.

Baroness von Bon Bon quickly fell silent as the maid turned the corner, yellow eyes staring off into the empty air as her heart-shaped lips pulled into a tight frown, brows furrowed. Neither of you made a move, the air stagnant and heavy. It was rather awkward, to put it lightly.

"My baroness?"

You narrowly managed to hold back the urge to flinch as she whipped her head towards you, her eyes wide.

"Is...is everything alright? You look a little bit nervous-"

"Nothing is amiss if that's what you're asking," She sharply cuts you off. "I'm just a bit tied up at the moment with a business partner."

You had an inkling suspicion that wasn't the case. The baroness didn't normally look this flustered when it came to business matters. If anything, she had always looked like she was preparing for a battle of all things, and that was just to sit down and talk about something as mundane as candy shipments. But then again, you could just be overthinking things again.

Right?

The baroness’ sharp sniff tugged you away from your confused musings, and you nearly jumped when you met her intense amber eyes.

She moved to place a slender hand on your shoulder, her touch ghosting over the tense muscles as she cleared her throat.

“Again, take your time. I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be gone.”

Before you could open your mouth to object or further question her, the baroness had already turned, the downy feathers of her hat whipping across your nose, and made her way down the hall.

Tongue heavy and useless, you silently watched her turn the corner, leaving you entirely alone save for her quieting footsteps and your jumbled thoughts.

Well, that certainly wasn’t weird at all.

You let out a small sigh, hands reaching up to rub at your temples. This assignment wasn’t, by any means, the worst thing you had to do all day, yet you had this strange feeling in your gut that something was up.

Still, a job was still a job, and unless you could think of a better excuse other than “it just felt off”, it was probably better that you just dipped in and dip out as quickly as you could. The last thing you wanted was to potentially face Bon Bon’s sugar-dusted ire.

How someone managed to be extremely scary while covered head-to-toe in pink and frills, you’ll never know. Nor do you think you want to.

You turned towards the pink door, apprehension flowing through your veins as you raised a shaky fist and knocked on the door. Almost immediately afterwards, you heard the muffled protest of a couch creaking.

A loud ‘bang’ followed shortly after, and you faintly caught the tail-end of someone letting out a grunt of pain. The couch creaked some more and you could faintly make out nervous muttering. You furrowed your brow for a moment, light frustration clawing at your thoughts, and knocked again, this time with more force.

“Oh! Please come in! Uh, I-I’m decent?” The voice cracked at their attempted joke, tapering off into an awkward, near frantic chuckle.

Hold on a moment…Was that Grimm on the other side?

Before you knew it, an eager smile had begun to tug on your lips, and you found yourself reaching towards the doorknob. You paused, hand merely inches away from the cool glass handle.

Things had been a bit weird between the two of you for the past few weeks. Since you had first met him, Grimm had always been the type to keep to himself, never venturing too far into the spotlight (unless it was for his job, of course). He hardly ever raised his voice, even if it meant that others would accidentally end up overlooking him.

None of which you truly minded. If anything, it made it easier for you to feel at ease around him. Sure, you may or may not have developed the teeny tiniest (and not all obvious) little crush on him, but you digress. Grimm was a bit of a socially awkward dork.

So imagine your surprise when he started forcing himself to be louder; quoting lines from classical literature around you (always romantic ones, too). Hell, he even started to compliment you more, whether it was on how lovely you looked, even when you knew you looked awful.

It was rather sweet of him, but it was enough to pull at your heartstrings. You kept finding yourself stuck in a constant back and forth. Did he possibly feel the same soft-hearted fascination you held for him? Or was Grimm just being nice? Whatever it may be, you desperately didn’t want to get your hopes up.

You gently slapped at your face, desperately trying to ignore the nervous beating of your heart.

‘Just go in and get out,’ You chided to yourself. ‘If you’re quick, then things won’t get so weird between Grimm.’

You grasped onto the doorknob tightly. The glass was cool against your sweat-slicked palms, each ridge pressing a swirled imprint into your skin from how tightly you were holding on. With one last nervous breath, you pushed open the door.

You were immediately met with the sight of Grimm, sprawled out onto the table on his stomach.

The two of you froze. You could feel your eyes go as wide as saucers and mouth fall slack. In a matter of seconds, you watched all color drain from Grimm’s face in stunned silence. The dragon’s mouth flapped open and closed, like a fish gasping for water on land, as high-pitched, dying animal squeaks fell from his lips.

After what felt like centuries, you were the first one to break the silence.

“Sooo,” You drawled, voice high and teetering on songful as you fought back a nervous laugh. “Did I walk in at a bad time? Cause, ah…you ain’t looking so decent there, Grimm.”

The dragon, to his credit, recovered fairly quickly from his catatonic state after that. In nearly the blink of an eye, he shot up from the table quickly, avoiding your gaze. Shaky hands brushed away non-existent dust from his body, the motion stiff and bordering on robotic.

It was almost enough to distract you from how red his face had gotten. Almost.

You could feel a blush of your own threatening to creep along your cheeks, and you silently cursed your body for reminding you of your crush on the man before you.

“Sorry about that. I, uh, kinda sorta tripped a little bit when you knocked,” Grimm weakly laughed and rubbed a clawed finger against his cheek.

“Oh, you’re fine, Grimm! I’m just more surprised you’re here of all places...Aren’t you usually out on your shift?”

The dragon let out a small hum and nodded, a small, tentative smile on his lips. Your breath hitched, face flooding with warmth.

“Haha, yeah...Usually I am, but I decided to take the day off. The perks of being your own boss for the most part, you know?” He laughed again, tail wagging against the table behind him.

His tail caused marble table legs to suddenly groan as they pushed across the tiled floor. The two of you jumped, and you nearly missed something small hitting against the floor with a dull thump in your surprise. A few seconds passed before you broke from your startled stupor, and your mind switched back into work mode.

“Oh, hold on Grimm. Bon Bon sent me in here to get something real quick. Let me just go do that and we can chat when I’m done!”

You were about to brush past him to retrieve the book off the floor, but instead were met with a face full of scaled stomach. Your startled squeak was muffled against warm flesh, causing Grimm’s entire body to stiffen.

You could feel his breath hitch as you gently pried your face away, and you looked up with him furrowed brows. At this point, Grimm was nearly purple from how much he was blushing. Not that you were any better. You don’t think the room was this warm before.

Grimm cleared his throat and took a few baby-sized steps away from you. His slitted-pupils wildly darted around the room as a toothy, shaky smile formed on his face.

“Y-you don’t have to do that. I...I mean. You kind of have to, since Bon Bon’s your boss, but I...”

He let out a huff, shaking his head before forcing himself to continue.

“I was the one to take it out from the library in the first place! Why not let m-me?”

He was doing it again, desperately trying to take any work you may have by doing it himself. And once again, you could feel your foolish little heart pick up its pace in hope. You mentally huffed, barely resisting the urge to shake your head. Not this time.

“Grimm.”

The dragon immediately went pale, his smile melting into a sheepish expression.

“That’s nice of you and all, but that’s kind of my job,” You hesitated for a moment. “And…you’re kinda being weird again.”

“Not that it’s a bad thing!” You quickly threw your hands up. “I thought some of the stuff you did for me earlier was real nice, but...”

“Wait, was I making you uncomfortable this entire time?” A mortified expression overtook him, and a fresh wave of panic washed over you.

“No, no! It’s just that...” You could feel your cheeks growing warm under his gaze, and you quickly turned away.

“It’s just confusing...” You mumbled out.

You quickly ducked your head down, blood pooling into your cheeks like magma within a volcano. It was pointless. Grimm could definitely still see how red you had become. He was absolutely silently judging you, you thought.

Sneaking a glance up, Grimm was stunned into absolute silence, lips pulled into a taut line. You hugged your shoulders, nails pressing sharp crescent-shaped marks through the thin sleeves of your uniform.

“C-confusing how?” Grimm asked quietly.

You abruptly lifted your head back to meet his gaze, a shaky frown on your lips. He flinched, ears folding back and shoulders tensing. His eyes watched you with a fixed skittish anticipation, no doubt taking in the ever-growing fire alarm shade of red in your cheeks.

“It’s just…you’re normally not that forward! Do you know how hard it is to focus when I’m too busy fixating on all the times you called me cute?! Especially when I’m trying to get over my own dumb crush on you so things won’t be awkward between us!”

Your heart was frantically beating against the bars of your rib cage now. Every breath you took felt like a razor against the burning, raw flesh of your throat, and it quickly dawned on you that you had screamed at him.

You had practically announced to the whole world that you had a crush on Grimm. Directly to his face.

In a matter of seconds, your stomach dropped as your heart leapt into your throat. All the breath in your lungs was stolen away. With pale cheeks and dread creeping up your spine, you forced yourself to look back up at the man standing before you, both of you still as statues.

Green scales were flushed into a brilliant shade of red and cheeks hot to the touch, the embers of a lively, crackling fire safely tucked beneath Grimm’s skin. His mouth trembled for a moment, but the dragon cleared his throat.

“I,” he started, an unsure smile now forming, “W-what?”

Raising a close hand to your mouth, you awkwardly coughed into your fist.

“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now,” You admitted with an uneasy laugh, your legs beginning to tremble.

“I’ve...kind of liked you for a while now, Grimm, but I just…kinda-sorta figured you didn’t feel the same.”

“Wait,” Grimm interrupted, the smile on his face growing,“You like me? As in...You have an actual crush on me?”

His voice cracked slightly, but it wasn’t hard to recognize the more upbeat tone his voice had taken. You could hear the gentle rhythmic thumps of his tail against the tiled floors, and a small glance upwards revealed a wobbly grin stretched across his face.

Dread melted into uncertainty. You felt your brows furrow, throat locked into dumb silence. It took a few seconds for you to take in everything, Grimm’s excited expression never wavering.

“Y-yeah? I do-” “That’s great!”

Wait, what?

Scaly hands reached forward and pulled you into a tight bear hug, causing you to let out a tiny wheeze from how tightly he held onto you. You could faintly hear the steady, giddy pace of his heart beating away within his chest, the wagging of his tail following along in it’s metronomic rhythm.

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while now, too! I just...I never thought you’d actually feel the same!”

You peaked up to see his grin turn sheepish, his eyes growing bashful as he met your gaze. He fidgeted in place for a moment, arms still wrapped around you in a tight embrace.

“Did you know that I had to ask Bon Bon to help me? I figured she would’ve known more about it than I would. I mean, I even asked to borrow this book from her-” “Grimm-”

“At the time I thought “why not?” It said that it would help me become, ah, irresistible-”

“Grimm-”

“All it did was make me feel like an idiot, though-“

“GRIMM!”

The dragon flinched and released you, eyes wide and mouth now clamped shut.

Free from the overbearingly warm embrace, you took in a deep, shaky breath to get your bearings. Your head was spinning, your heart struggling to stay in your chest from how hard it beated.

Everything hit you at once. Only seconds after your accidental confession, not only did Grimm actually return your feelings, but it turns out that the big nerd had indeed been flirting (or trying, rather) with you.

Bright pink soon dusted across your cheeks, spreading across your entire face like a flustered wildfire. An awkward laugh tumbled out of your lips, and you found yourself covering your lips, a flustered grin eagerly stretching itself across your face. Grimm shot you a concerned look for a moment, but it seemed the weight of the situation dawned upon him not long after as a shy grin formed.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to melt into pink, warm-cheeked messes, the two of you shyly trading glances before breaking out into a mess of laughter.

Once the two of you finally calmed down, Grimm was the first one to speak.

“Golly, don’t I feel dumb for overthinking this now, huh?” He mumbled to himself, grin softening into a small smile.

He paused for a moment, tongue wetting his lips before he soldiered on.

“So, ah, I guess now would be a good time to m-m-maybe ask you out? When you’re free, of course-”

“Yes!”

Poor Grimm nearly jumped at your acceptance. but soon the loud thumps of his tail wagging against the floor fill your ears once more.

“Then it’s a date, then!” The dragon gave you a toothy grin as his face exploded into red.

A rapid set of knocks suddenly cut through the soft, vanilla-scent air, and you whipped your head to see the tiny peppermint maid from before opening the door.

She gently pushed through, a rococo tea set clinking along a tray in her hands. As she raced across to set down the still piping-hot drinks on top of the coffee table, she turned towards you.

“You might want to make yourself scarce, dearie. The baroness is set to wrap up her phone call soon!”

You quickly nodded, gently pushing past Grimm to snatch up the book off the floor. A brief glance at the cover and title caused you to shoot your soon-to-be date a sly look, earning you a flustered cough for your troubles.

The peppermint maid soon tugged at your sleeves, silently urging you to get a move on. You turned and mouthed a small ‘I’ll see you during my break’ before you were effectively dragged out by the round older woman.

You and Grimm shared a tiny wave of goodbye before you were out the door, book still clasped in your hands.

As you quietly parted ways with the maid along the halls, you eagerly planned out an outfit to wear for your now upcoming date.

#My writing #cuphead dont deal with the devil #Cuphead #cuphead headcanons #cuphead scenarios #x reader #reader insert #grimm matchstick #grimm matchstick x reader #gender-neutral reader

31 notes · View notes