#But I shall withhold that urge for now

[radiance1]

Tim traced Bruce's family tree, and that led him down a path where he finds out that apparently his ancestors, the fentonightingales, split off into the Wayne family and the Fenton family and decides to trace down the Fenton family history to see if Bruce had any unknown relatives.

He finds Jack Fenton, his wife, Madeline Fenton, their daughter, Jasmine Fenton, their son, Daniel Fenton, and their second daughter and youngest child, Danielle Fenton.

Then he digs a bit through their social media, finds out that reclusive billionaire and CEO of a morally questionable company, Vlad Masters, is the godfather of the three children. Unfortunately, for some reason it's been hard to find information about Vlad Masters that isn't involving his company or publicity stunts, anything past that and it's only bits and pieces of information.

The biggest piece in his past is that he was trapped in a hospital due to an unknown illness that left him bedridden, and then making an miraculous recovery one day, then going to found Vladco and become a business empire.

He thinks the only reason that tidbit of information was so easy to find was that it tied into his business as some type of origin story.

Tim does a bit more digging and, yet to inform anyone else of his discovery, finds a video titled:

"Pranking my godfather after he stopped trying to get with my mom and kill my dad!"

Which, was a concerning title really, then he found the godfather in question to be Vlad Masters, and the one who recorded said video was Daniel Fenton.

Curious.

He did some more digging.

He didn't really get very far, for some odd reason there isn't a lot of information to scrap together past the surface of Amity Park. Stuff like their museum, being a tourist attraction, it's history, normal stuff like that.

Nothing about the day to day lives of its citizens, nor any videos posted by said citizens or anything of the like.

He did come across some papers posted by the Fentons, however. Some research abouts ghosts, their behaviors and all that.

What he found wasn't pleasant, and he was thinking about telling Bruce before he came across another page.

The Fenton page.

It was, very, very clean of research papers of any kind having to deal with ghosts as a species, and while they are mentioned it's mostly in reference to take about one of their many weapons, or an installation to equip to your home as a safety precaution.

Then he went back to the page where their 'research' is placed, did some digging, and found it to be published by some kind of organization called the Guys In White, or GIW for short. Weird name, but he's seen weirder.

Although, this does cause some concern for him.

Tim, still not telling anyone of the information he's found besides Alfred (You can hide NOTHING from that man), decides to go over to Amity Park to check out the Fenton family firsthand, gather information about these ghosts to decide if magic is involved or not, and find out why the GIW are using the Fentons' name to publish their papers.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Vlad is redeemed here #But he's still kinda an ass #That sassy godfather who spills some tea and buys you what you want if you nag him enough #He's also not inlove with Maddie anymore #. #Saying that REALLY makes me want to include him being a massive simp over Constantine now. #But I shall withhold that urge for now

[bonniebird]

Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader  

Requested by Anon

Request: Anonymous asked: "You make it sound so bad. All I did was withhold a little information." Aemond Targaryen and a Fem!Reader please. He doesn't tell her that someone else was in love with her.

Read on Wattpad

Read on AO3

You stared at the woman who smiled and turned away. The lord you had pined after. Who you had tried to pursue had loved you? He had wanted you. He had told Aemond as much.

You felt a hot fury claw its way up your throat and lodge itself as an angry ball. Going to sit alone for a moment you spotted one of Lord Corly’s nieces. She smiled and came to sit with you. “So? Are you excited for the wedding?” She asked. Her face fell when you scowled at her. “Did your lord not… oh seven…! Tell me I have not ruined the surprise.” She said quickly. You shook your head and when tears welled in your eyes she glanced around and swiftly stood, arm linked in yours, pulling you away. The two of you talked quietly together as you explained everything that you knew. Her face twisted with emotions as you explained. “Treachery.” She whispered sympathetically. You huffed and nodded. “After all he has said. There shall be no hope now.” You muttered and looked rather mournful. She left you having been called away. She would depart for Driftmark but promised to write to you once she arrived. You spent the day wandering the Keep’s grounds. Avoiding the glances and whispers about what had happened. When evening drew closer and began darkening the sky you decided to retreat to our rooms. A fus was made when your maids found you and you refused to have something to eat, telling them you were going straight to bed. “All this fuss over one lord.” Aemond said. He made you jump as you turned and found he had been silently walking behind you. There was no need for him to be on the side of the Keep that your rooms were in. There wasn’t anything of interest for him bar your rooms. Huffing you turned away and stomped in the direction of your rooms so your angry footsteps echoed around the halls. He chuckled which made your anger bubble and grow.

“A fuss you created!” You snapped. You found he had kept pace with you. Meaning that when you stopped and turned as you shouted he was suddenly alarmingly close. “There will be others I am sure.” He sounded as if he were teasing a child. His tone was light and amused. “How could you!” You said after a long pause. It was a weak feeble sound that had attempted to sound furious and fearless. It died as a whisper as you stepped back and sniffed, trying to avoid giving him the satisfaction of your tears.

"You make it sound so bad. All I did was withhold a little information." He said and smiled cruelly. It seemed cruel in the dim torchlight, his eye glinted and his dark green clothes seemed black making him some sort of wicked shadow crowned in white gold, tormenting you. “Withheld! You lied!” You accused and he tutted his tongue. “All I did was avoid telling the lord exactly who it was you held affection for. It is not my fault if he was so fool headed that he moved to propose marriage to another Lady within the day.” Aemond spoke as if he had practised what he was saying. He sighed out his words patronisingly looking down as he spoke, feigning innocence until he looked up at you, cold and unforgiving as he stepped closer to you. You tried to hold your ground and not give in to the urge to back away.

“You knew a match was being made. You ruined it because you are selfish. Seven knows I hate you! I never want to see you again! I have never hated anyone so…” Your fury reached its peak and before you could see sense your hand raised to slap the prince. A firm hand grasped your arm painfully tight and you were pulled against Aemond as his other hand came down against your face, holding it painfully tight between his fingers so that no matter how you fought you couldn’t escape.

“You do not hate me, my Lady. Even if you did it would do you no good to attempt to resist me. I am a prince of the house Targaryen. Who would allow you to escape my clutches? Certainly no Lords of the realm. Do you think your sweet lord would rescue you? All it took was one word from me and he abandoned you for another woman.” He paused and leaned closer you could feel his breath on your face as he continued to speak, refusing to let you loose as you squirmed. “Truly did you think I would allow another to have you? If you run from me, I would find you wherever in the world you chose to hide.” When he was finished he pushed against you and you crumpled to the ground. Mercifully he let you get to your feet and flee. One of your maids, who had been with you since you were a child was waiting for you. You told her everything that had happened. She sat you down, made you eat and whisked herself around your rooms. When the darkness roosted itself firmly over King’s Landing she led you carefully through the corridors of the keep and out to a small gate. The path she followed suddenly became thin and when you looked down you could make out a sheer, deadly drop into the ocean. Slowly the two of you skirted along. When she turned at the end of the path she reached out.

“Quickly my lady. The horses are waiting.” She whispered. Her hand was warm and comforting as she pulled you off the last of the ledge and towards two horses. She handed a bag of coins to a man who shook it a few times before nodding. Mounting your horse the two of you managed to make your way out of King’s Landing.

“There is a boat not too far from here. It should be able to take us to Driftmark. Your friend is still there. Her Uncle should be able to help us get away…” She trailed off as if her plan went no further. You were just glad to be away. Aemond had been a constant pressing presence and now you felt hesitantly free. Turning the horse in the direction your maid pointed out the two of you urged them on and hurried through dark side roads. As morning began to threaten to wake the sky and expose the two of you to anyone who might be passing by the sound of the sea in the dim light of the early morning you looked up, exhausted and looking forward to the boat that your maid kept mentioning. Your poor horse sighed with exhaustion but continued forwards. As you looked up you noticed a darker cloud among the others.

“It looks like it shall rain. Will the horses be alright?” You asked. There was a tut from the woman ahead of you. “My lady there are more important things to worry about.” She said quickly. With a shrug, you looked back up towards the sky. Your eyes widened in horror as the dark cloud moved and twisted in the air, growing impossibly large until it consumed the others, taking on the shape of a massive dragon.

Aemond tag list:

@gillybear17@ravennoore14@the-caravello-post@killing-gremlin@aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18@lchufflepuffcorn @geekyandgay98@lightqueen16@savagemickey03@kaitieskidmore1

@sashawalker2

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #bonniebird

[pinkydevil16]

Aemond Targaryen x reader: part 2

Y/n walked along the halls of the keep, her red and black dress grazing the ground as her shoes hit the ground, her hands crossed in front of her stomach. She could hear the whispers of those around her, all talking about the death of Vaemond and the savage princess. The guards pushed open the large doors allowing Y/n into the dining room, her family and the Green's awkwardly stood around the table as they waited for Viserys and Y/n to arrive. Y/n lightly bowed, the deep neckline of her dress showing her cleavage and clavicle as she lifted her head and took note of Aemond staring into her soul whilst Aegon greedily took in the exposed skin of his Niece much like he would a whore of the silken streets. Y/n moving towards her Mother, placing a kiss on her cheek before smiling at Alicent, stepping away as Jacaerys pulled out the chair opposite to Aemond allowing Y/n to politely take her place. 

"He is staring again." Jacaerys grunted out as Aemond continued to boldly stare at Y/n, her skin alight as she felt the gaze of both her Uncle's only broken by the entrance of the King as he hobbled in. 

Y/n sat silently as she drank her wine, feeling the unbearable weight of Aemond's stare as she watched her family and the Green's try to converse and get alone but she knew it was an effort that would be useless in the eyes of Otto and Aemond. Aegon stood, moving to hover over Y/n as he looked down her dress and tried to grab at the wine pitcher as a cover for leering at his Niece.

"You look delicious in that dress Y/n. If you desire i shall leave my door open for you tonight or i can sneak into your chambers and show you some fun." Y/n did not so much as blink as she grabbed her cup and took a sip, her eyes on Aemond as she gaged his reaction to his brother's words, a slight twitch of his lip gave away more than his eye ever could. 

"Aegon i suggest you move away before i cut your hand off and shove it up your ass." Y/n whispered, not looking away from Aemond as Aegon let out a snicker and moved away as Y/n placed down her cup, exchanged it for a fork which she promptly stabbed into the pheasant on her plate. 

"Such a lady." Y/n raised an eyebrow at Aemond's comment, the first of the evening but she knew he was simply withholding his tongue for a larger outburst.

"Perhaps you should consider holding your tongue more often Uncle, you are much more pleasant when you are silent." Aemond could feel his hand twitch as he held back the urge to stab his knife into her hand, slam her face into the table and make her scream so loudly dragonstone would hear their princess cry. 

"No wonder you are unwed with such a snake tongue, no Lord would accept such an insult as to be wed to you." Y/n smirked as she pulled her fork out the pheasant, the meat ripping from the bones as she took an aggressive bite before pointing the sharp fork at Aemond.

"You are one to speak about being unwed, i doubt you will ever be seen as anything but the ugly one eyed second son who lost his eye to a girl." Y/n enjoyed how Aemond grabbed his knife, stabbing it into the table as he glared at her. 

"Did i stab a nerve Uncle?" Y/n let out a small laugh as Aemond leaned forward, their interaction being hidden by the chatter at the head of the table. The sudden sound of chairs being moved snapping his attention from Y/n to where Jacaerys now held Halaena's hand guiding her to dance, their Aunt smiling as she followed his lead. Y/n smirking as she leaned forward, her hair falling from her shoulders to frame her chest and darken her face, Aemond barely registering her as she whispered.

"I see now why you truly are unwed, you are too busy wishing to be cock deep inside your sis-" Aemond cut Y/n off as he stood, his hand slamming on the table before collecting his glass, Y/n leaning back as she leisurely watched him. 

"A final tribute, to the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke and Joffrey." Y/n stared at him as he ignored her name, his glass raised high as he stared at the boys. 

"Each of them handsome, wise...strong." Alicent said his name, her face full of worry as she looked towards the others at the table, Y/n slowly sliding her knife from the table and into her hand as she braced herself to stand.

"Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys." 

"I dare you to say that again." Jacaerys was quick to speak, his hands clenching by his side as he challenged his Uncle. 

"Why? Twas only a compliment." Aemond went to walk towards him as he spoke, Y/n pushing her chair back quickly and intercepting to stand between her brother and Uncle, knife hidden in her dress sleeve against Aemond's side.  

"Do you not think yourself strong. You need a girl to protect you?" Aemond finally looked down at Y/n as Jacaerys swung at him, his movement quick and swift as he dodged the hit, pushing Y/n out the way and shoving Jacaerys with his shoulder causing him to hit the ground. Y/n was quick to withdrawer the blade, concealing in her sleeve from anyone further than Aemond, pressing it against his abdomen as she placed her other hand on his chest. To anyone but then it would only seem she was trying to calm him but the fire in her eyes and the blade against his stomach was something he felt instantly, much as she felt the bruising grip on her arm and spiteful glare being burnt into her face. 

"Hold your tongue or i shall cut it out." Y/n whispered, a sneer on her face at the close proximity she had to stay to conceal the threat, feeling his hand drop from her arm to her waist as he pulled her closer, pushing the blade against his tunic. 

"Your threats do not scare me." Aemond spoke, his other hand manoeuvring the knife from her grip and slipping it into his trousers, her hand now in a fist against his lower abdomen, dangerously close to his breeches as she let out a huff. 

"For someone who wishes to pluck my eyeball from my head you are holding me far too close." Aemond hummed before stepping away, his hand giving one last strong squeeze of her waist in warning as Jacaerys finally got to his feet and the chaos seemed to return. Alicent rushing to her son as she separated him from the black's, Jacaerys pulling his sister to his side. Guards quickly flocking to the blacks and dragging them away from Aemond as Jacaerys and Lucerys went to fight.

"Why would you say such a thing before all these people?" Alicent reprimanded her son as Daemon stood, Y/n simply pulled her arm from the guards as she moved closer to her Mother.

"It seems my nephews aren't quite so proud of theirs." Jacaerys and Lucerys tried to pull free of the guards as they gripped them tightly, Y/n beginning to storm towards her Uncle as Daemon raised his hand in warning to her. 

"Go to your quarters. All of you go now." Rhaenyra spoke, her sons turning as they followed her orders but Y/n stood for a moment longer to watch Daemon turn and sigh at Aemond, a silent threat before her Mother shooed her along. Aemond stared down Daemon before humming and sulking away, leaving Alicent and Rhaenyra to deal with the aftermath. 

Aemond entered his chambers, a cold breeze through the window where the moon barely lit the room, a cold blade against his throat as the door closed.

"Your impulsiveness is almost predictable now Niece." Y/n let out a laugh as she rounded the back of the door, her grip on the blade steady as she pressed him against the door, her body almost flush against his as she looked up at him.

"It is not impulse if i have thought about this since the moment i arrived here." Aemond smirked as he looked at his Niece in the moonlight, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her so close she could feel his belt buckle against her stomach. 

"Do you think you are strong enough to stop me from killing you?" Y/n ground her teeth at his words, another dig at her family as she pushed the blade close enough to nick his skin, a bead of red running down his throat as he chuckled. His movement swift as he pushed her back and against the door where she'd had him, her back harshly making contact as he leaned down, pressing the blade further into his throat with a satisfied grin. His shadow now covering her as he grabbed her hands, the two tussling for a moment against the other before the blade hit the ground and her hands pinned above her head, both their chests rising and falling. 

"You would make a terrible assassin." Aemond mocked as he tightened his grip until her skin was white under his hold, Y/n wiggling her fingers before raising her knee to hit between his legs, disabling him for a moment allowing her to slip her hands free. Pushing him back as the pair began to brawl, Aemond grabbing at her as she dropped her weight, a heavy thud on the ground as they fell and began to fight each other. Aemond grabbing her from behind as she scampered to get up, his grip on her dress tight enough to rip it as she turned and swung at his face. His grip on her dress dropping as he pulled her to the side and pinned her arm against the floor, her legs tangled with his as her other arm hit against him until he managed to pin both her arms down. Both out of breath as Y/n wiggled against him, making Aemond groan as he glared down at her, her hips moving vigorously against his as she struggled. 

"You are insufferable." Aemond grunted as she kicked his leg, her legs now parted either side of his hips, her dress riding up as she kneed his stomach making him wince in pain. 

"And you are an animal who has no sense of loyalty." Y/n snapped, Aemond pressing down further against her as he pushed his body weight onto hers, successfully pinning her to the ground only able to wiggle her body against his but unable to push him off her. 

"I have no sense of loyalty? You sliced my eye out!" Aemond almost shouted, sneering down at Y/n as she stared at him with no remorse instead she stoned her face and lifted her head towards his.

"I would do it again if you dared to raise a sword, rock or hand towards my brothers. We were children, in a childish fight and you picked up that rock to smash my brothers head in two then have the audacity to scream about a wound that you lived through? You have no honour." Y/n spat, almost nose to nose with her Uncle as he seethed atop her, hands almost breaking her wrists as he applied more weight onto her.

"You were meant to be my friend! You were meant to mine and mine alone, the only one who did not mock me for not having a dragon and you sliced my eye out. Stood beside your bastard brothers and whore of a mother, let her demand i be sharply questioned!" Y/n winced at his tone, now she was older she was more hardened of the events from so long ago but she had regretted her actions, tried to tell her Mother to reconcile so they could stay friends but it would never have worked. 

"Do you not think i had sleepless nights thinking of what i did to you? Of what we did to this family, but we must all grow and lose the childish innocence we possess, i replayed those events time and time again and each time i came to realise i did not regret defending my family. I would cut you from throat to cock and watch your entrails spill onto the stone floors before i watched you hurt my brothers." Aemond dropped her right arm, gripping her chin as Y/n grabbed his arm, his fingers digging into her cheeks as he leaned closer until his lips almost touched hers. 

"When your whore of a mother is killed, your brothers captured and the realm has turned against you, i will not take your eyes. No i will make you watch as i burn your entire family." Y/n tried to pull her face free of his hold but Aemond only tightened his grip until he could feel her teeth under his fingertips.

"Your obsession with me is psychotic, your constant need for my attention yet your hatred of me is almost laughable." Aemond squinted before pushing off Y/n, who in turn smirked as she sat up, pushing her dress down as Aemond stormed out his chambers.

Hotd Taglist:

@smileykiddie08 @hannaeditzs @stuckinaf4nfiction @verybluntstoner @moonmaiden1996 @vaemmasworld @eonnyx @whitejuliana1204 @missusnora @applepyesworld @mingiholic @crownofdecit @destroyingdestiny @alexisabirdie @dudfahsn @littlebatsimagines @bloode-money @mooonlight-and-stars @xcharlottemikaelsonx @onemillionpeopleinone @random-human02 @hi-im-fan-trash @meilikki @sonnensplitter @jugheadisaweirdo @lomllino @celibacy-or-death @crazylokonugget @natashaxhellenic @here4thefanfic @bubblebuttwade @disturbing-love666 @sha-aesthic @solace-inu @rntrsna @jeyramarie @apollonshootafar @holb32 @pancakefancake@claudiajacobs @maeverae006 @stargaryenx @mirandastuckinthe80s @mingiholic @sarah-l-whiteman @miraclealignertlsp369 @hc-geralt-23 @rosaryos @pearlstiare @kpoploverxx-12@m00n5t0n3 @multifndom @pofties @thirsty4nonlivingmen @yor72 @savagejane1 @mxacegrey@its-halleys-comet @literishdegree99 @zillahvathek @remuslupinwifee @vainillasmil157@sophiexoxsblog @nupppuff @sophiexoxsblog @softtina @wallace02sblog @hotd-fanfic @priyajoyy

@flourishandblotts-inc @watercolorskyy @toodlesxcuddles @

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye

[vampcubus]

Ashi, my darling do u think izuku is a bratty sub or a obedient sub.. or both.. 👀

HI LARA!! more than happy to share my thoughts on this since he's been running laps in my mind. i got carried awayyyyy. i need to write a proper brat taming fic for him ong.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!izuku, dom!fem!reader, master kink.

I'd say Izuku defaults as an obedient sub, especially during your first few sexual encounters.

He's desperate to please, and frankly likes to be bossed around in the bedroom. There's very little he wouldn't do just to hear you praise him for a job well done – and he always does his very best, serving you enthusiastically, tongue, hands, and cock just toys for you to use as far as he's concerned. He's pliant and submits easily, taking all that you give – or decide to withhold until he's earned it. Earning pleasure is very fulfilling for him, and an edged orgasm always feels more satisfying.

That said, he gets brattier as time passes and he gets more comfortable with your dynamic. He gets greedy, lapping up your praise and gentle touches like he needs them to live, only to plead for more of it in his next breath. He's always so quick to beg before you've hardly even started.

"Be patient, puppy," you'd urge, and he'd only whine and writhe harder, hips bucking into your open palm as it teases over the flushed head. "Are you listening?"

"But I want more. please, I need more," he insists, eyes half-lidded and glossy as he watches you play with his cock. You spare him only two fingers, stroking just below the head ever so softly. His head falls back onto the bed, hips lifting up, seeking more friction. He needs a firmer grip, a faster pace, but you only push his hips back down, pinning them there with a displeased grunt.

"You'll take what I give you, or you'll get nothing, understand?" You assert, letting his dick slap back against his tummy despite his whiny protests. "You wanna make your master happy, don't you?

"I want you to fuck me," Izuku huffs, brows pinched in frustration. He reaches a hand for his cock, and you slap it away instantly. "You're being so mean."

"I wouldn't have to be if you weren't such a whiny brat," you sigh, climbing on top of him, capturing both wrists and pinning them on either side of his head. He gasps as you sit on his cock but otherwise leave him to twitch pathetically against your clothed cunt, he can feel how warm you are and it makes him moan shakily. "Are you gonna keep your hands to yourself like a good boy, or do I have to cuff you?"

"No, please don't do that! i'll be good now. 'm sorry, please touch my cock again, master," he pleads, arms going limp in your firm hold to indicate his promised compliance. "Please I- mmf!"

His incessant begging is silenced when you pull down your panties, ball them up, and stuff them in his mouth.

"That's better. Now let's try again, shall we?" You hum, satisfied with his muffled whimpering.

There are times Izuku would obey you without question, prepared to kneel and worship the ground you walk on without a second thought. Other times he can't help but challenge you, can't help but test your patience, to make you work for his submission. Ultimately yes, he wants you to have your way with him, but sometimes he just can't stop the bratty phrase "Make me." from slipping out when you tell him what to do.

Sometimes he gets that determined glimmer in his eye and he misbehaves just to see how you react, a satisfied grin pulling at his lips when you flounder at his audacity. He'll move when you tell him to be still, moan out when you tell him to be quiet, and egg you on just to see you snap and put him in his place.

You're his Master, and he wants you to remind him why. To prove it. Izuku getting pinned down and railed into compliance is an absolute win for him.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #lara <3 #izuku midoriya x reader #sub izuku #sub deku #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #n/sfw #fem reader #female reader #dom!reader #dom reader

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter Three

(AO3 Link) | Master List

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You).

Word Count: 3700 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT).

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

A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content.)

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

A/N: Sorry for the wait, my lovelies. I was paralysed by the responsibility. Lol. <3

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

Chapter Three - Allies

Finally, a bowl of stew is placed in your hands. The log in front of the fire is less than comfortable, but you don’t focus on it, there’s warmth, there’s murmurs of light conversation and there’s food. You take out the spoon and begin drinking straight from the bowl, drops leaking from the corners of your mouth as you gulp. There’s a muffled sound threatening to pull you away from the experience, but you choose to ignore it until the stew is gone. Removing the rim of the bowl from your lips, you catch your breath and find Gale beaming at you from the left corner of your eye. “Well, I haven’t received many compliments for my cooking over the years, but you two might have just made up for that.” He chuckles before returning to his own bowl. You look to your right to find Karlach wiping her mouth with her arm and holding an empty bowl with the other. You can’t help but laugh a little when you realise how synchronised you must have been.

Upon hearing your laughter, she looks at you, smiles and taps her, now satisfied, stomach. “Gods, finally, a hot meal! Why don’t you cook like this every night, Gale?”

“Living off of scavenged scraps is rarely bountiful, so I, for one, shall be savouring every drop.” Shadowheart chimed in, delicately sipping from her spoon. She is interrupted by Lae’zel loudly tearing some bread next to her, once halved, she looks at the beast she has conquered, proudly, before offering one half to Wyll. Shadowheart rolls her eyes and attempts to enjoy her meal again.

Adjacent to Gale, Astarion sits, leaning back, enjoying a cup of wine, swirling it in his hand. He seems… Bored. There is no bowl in his lap. He must have finished it before you saw him, you tell yourself… but there is no empty bowl to be found. You observe him, curiously. If things are as difficult as the others say, surely he’d be just as desperate to have his own portion. The others barely seem to notice or care. Odd. He feels your eyes on him, then catches them with his own. You resist the urge to look away. He adjusts and smiles in his typical, cocky way before raising the cup and greeting you with a graceful nod. You nod back, withholding a smile.

“So, Tav, would you care to tell us a little more about yourself?” Wyll asks between slurps of stew. You are stunned for a moment. How does one go about answering such a question?

“There’s not much to tell. I’d only bore you.” You say firmly, almost as a warning to prevent any further questions. Astarion raises an eyebrow and smirks at your answer. Shit. He’s going to pry.

“Oh, don’t leave us in suspense, darling. Go on, we’re all dying to know.” He’s trying to sound sarcastic, but you can tell he’s genuinely intrigued by you. He sips his wine, all the while staring directly into your golden eyes.

“If you’re looking for stories of glory or valour, I have none. I’m no adventurer. I’m not like any of you.” You find comfort in telling the truth, maybe this will be enough.

“Really?” He drags out the word, taking the time to inspect you, searching for more.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I didn’t think of myself as the adventuring type either, before all this. I’m not sure if any of us did.” Gale interjects, attempting to offer some empathy in the midst of Astarion’s grilling. You essentially scoff at his words, you’ve seen them in battle, how they fit right in, the idea that this wasn’t their first choice of career is almost laughable.

“Hm, I’m sure…” You pause, debating on whether or not to be honest about your abilities. Annoyingly, the conclusion seems to be that here, honesty is essential to your survival. They need to know that if you found yourself in the middle of a fight, you would be dead in seconds. “Look… I’ve… I’ve never touched a weapon, nor have I ever even tried to channel the weave, for that matter.” There is silence…

“Chk… We should have killed her when we had the chance, she’ll only slow us down. Useless k’chakhi.” Fury. That’s all you feel as you and Lae’zel glare at each other. You try to push down your anger enough to get words out.

“What the fuck did you just call me?!” You begin to stand to assert whatever dominance you can over her and beat the clear imbalance in both of your skills. For a moment, you swear you can hear Astarion quietly giggling in anticipation.

“Woah! Now, now, there’s no need for that. Let’s all calm down and think about this for a second.” Wyll saves the day by bringing both of your emotions down, a boil to a simmer.

“Tav… You really mean to say that you’ve… Never been in a fight?” Karlach asks. You sigh, shrug and sit back down. You’ve felt and witnessed immense pain, suffering and recently even inflicted some yourself. But a fight? A fair fight?

“No.” There is more silence… It lasts for some time…

“Can you cook?” Gale breaks the tension, gesturing to his, now empty, bowl. You raise an eyebrow in his direction, unsure of where he’s going with this. You nod, slowly. “Clean?” You nod again. “Mend things? Clothes and such?” You nod. “Well then. It seems to me like we have our very own campsitter.” A campsitter… It’s certainly less glamorous than what they’ll be doing every day… but it’s safe. And that’s all you want, you don’t care how. You push a smile onto your face and nod a final time, looking around expectantly at the other faces around you, who mostly seem to agree with Gale’s assessment. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Empty bowls are stacked and one by one, your companions excuse themselves and make their way to their tents for the night. Tents… Shit, you don’t have a tent. “Shit, I don’t have a tent…” You exclaim to yourself. Suddenly, you become aware of the night air that grips the large areas of exposed skin displayed by your pelt dress. It’s cold. You find Gale who seems to be in the middle of stretching and getting ready for bed. “Do you have any spare fabric around here? I need to make myself a tent for the night.”

Gale sucks air between his teeth. “Regrettably, no, we tend to travel light. We weren’t really prepared for a last minute addition to the group…” You sigh and run your hand through your long, dark hair as you think, his voice breaks your thought. “I suppose, just for tonight, you could share with one of us?” Your eyes widen and suddenly, your feelings of safety dissipate.

You had briefly considered your living situation before agreeing to stay with these people, but, somehow, the prospect of willingly being unconscious in their presence hadn’t crossed your mind until now. It sparks a swirl of anxiety in your chest. “Oh… I… I don’t think I’m okay with that.”

“Of course. Perfectly understandable.” Gale nods affirmatively before taking his chin between his fingers, thinking. You look around and begin to turn away. “Wait here a moment.” He ducks into his tent, you hear the rustling and rattling of various knick-knacks and trinkets. He emerges and presents you with a robe and a blanket. “Here we are. Consider these as a gift and an apology for our poor hospitality.” His unexpected kindness throws you off for a moment, causing you to stumble over your words. You were fully prepared to leave and solve your problem alone by roughing it by the fire.

“Oh- I- th-thank you…” You hold your arms out and he places them in your hands.

“I just hope that these and the fire are enough for tonight. Tomorrow, we will find you more adequate lodgings, I assure you.” Before turning away, he looks directly into your eyes with a tender expression. You match him, or at least attempt to, feelings of tenderness haven't always translated themselves accurately on your face. But that doesn’t stop you from making the effort.

It’s quiet for the first time since you arrived here, and for the first time in a long while, you are alone. You walk towards the campfire, surrounded by closed tents. A distant owl hooting softly, crickets chirping peacefully, the wind singing sweetly. You close your eyes and breathe the cool air, absorbing the tranquillity. You take the robe and walk past the outskirts of camp. A lake waits for you, not too far away, but far enough to remove your pelts without the fear of prying eyes.

And so you begin, laying the robe on a nearby rock, your, now free, hands graze over the thick fur that covers you. It’s barely held together as it is, so you feel no regret when tearing each pelt away from your body. As it turns out, goblins don’t make skilled tailors. You lay them in a neat pile as you reveal more and more of your skin to the cold air, the ends of your hair tickling the small of your back. You trace your fingers over your plump surfaces, searching for undiscovered cuts and bruises. You bend, rounded flesh folding like silk beneath you as you inspect your legs. Every now and then, your finger dips as it reaches the wavy, plum coloured marks that adorn your body. Taking note of the new additions to your injuries list, you check your undergarments for any holes that need mending. Somehow, they seem to be in relatively good shape, although every part of you and your clothing is in desperate need of cleansing. You look out to the lake, longingly, but decide not to risk it. It must be freezing, and who knows what’s in there.

Another time, perhaps…

Reaching for the robe, you take in it’s appearance for the first time. It’s a beautiful viridian green, the hem embellished with gold coloured thread. The outside is like velvet to the touch, the inside is textured and warm, you can’t wait to feel it shielding your body. You carefully pull it on and secure it around your waist. There’s no restriction or tightness, just comfort, clinging to your curves. It’s more modest than before which is nice, however, although you found the previous garment distasteful, you begin to miss the sight of your own skin, so you allow the neckline to fall a little further down and ensure the skirt’s slit can be traced all the way up to your right hip. For an item of clothing that wasn’t made for you, it fits remarkably well and the way you’ve chosen to wear it flatters your shape wonderfully. As you tie the final knot around your waist, you feel something. You feel eyes.

“Well, what do we have here?” A familiar voice is heard, coming from behind you. You don’t need to look to know who it is. You scoff as you finish up and turn to him. Astarion is resting on a tree by his shoulder, very obviously scanning your new look with his intense gaze.

“Great, you’re a pervert too?” You rest one hand on your hip and angrily wait for his explanation.

“You think so little of me, darling, I’m hurt!” He feigns being wounded. A smile threatens to creep onto your face at his performance. He’s funny. But no, you pull it back almost immediately. “I swear, I just got here, I didn’t see a thing.” He crosses his heart with one hand and an earnest grin. He takes a few steps closer, you step back, wanting to maintain some distance. “Come on, let me see.” He makes a gesture, urging you to twirl and show off. You can’t help but laugh.

“Seriously?” You raise an eyebrow and lean back, further into your hip.

“Oh come now, can’t I appreciate a beautiful thing when I see it?” He looks you up and down, even more obviously this time. You scoff once again but stop before you say anything else, instead you choose to grin, take some of your skirt in one hand and twirl, ending with a grand, performative bow.

“Happy?”

“Mmm, I must say, it looks much better on you than Gale.” You laugh loudly for a moment. His grin falters to a warm smile for a split second.

“So, are you going to explain why I found you staring at me in the middle of nowhere now?” He stops smiling completely and looks to the floor, like he’s searching for something. 

“Hmm…” He finds your eyes again. “We all have our little secrets, don’t we, darling?” You sigh disappointedly.

“Well, that’s just annoying.”

“Isn’t it?” He steps closer again, this time, you stay put. “Goodnight, Tav.” He turns away and walks further into the forest.

“Goodnight, Astarion.” He halts and turns his head just enough for you to see his smile before disappearing completely into the trees.

You gather your things and make your way back to the dimming fire. You add fuel and breathe life back into it. You look around, each tent occupied, but Astarion’s. The temptation to snoop is very much there, but surely he’d know. You aren’t exactly the stealthy type. The warmth embraces you as you huddle under your new blanket. Eyes close.

You dream in fragments, but instead of pictures, they’re feelings. Fractured pieces of happiness, comfort, hope. And then… There’s the rest… __________________________________________

That familiar feeling of waking up, wanting more. The smell of burnt wood fills your nose, light burns your eyes, you adjust, back cracking, neck aching.

Gods, I hope they find something better for me to sleep on today.

Everyone is still asleep, Astarion’s tent now sealed.

What was he doing last night?

You rub your eyes and get up. There’s no better time to get started on breakfast. You head to the makeshift food station to assess the situation. It could be worse, there’s eggs, milk and some greens. Seven mouths to feed is a bit daunting, you’ve only cooked for 2 people at most. Although over the years, you developed a bit of a talent for it, it’s still certainly nerve wracking. You beat the eggs with the milk, chop the greens, stoke the fire and fry omelette after omelette until the main plate is stacked high. Your ingredients have been stretched as far as they can go and remarkably, it looks like you’ll be able to feed everyone. Slowly, companions begin to emerge from their tents, following the delicious smell of breakfast.

You stand, washing the utensils and dishes you used, hair tied up with stragglers escaping and Gale’s apron tied firmly around your waist. “Gods, what is that smell?!” Karlach’s voice sounds surprisingly nearby, she’s panting. Did… Did she run? You quickly turn your body to meet her. “Oh! Er- Breakfast?”

“Oh fuck yes! Ooo if I could, I’d squeeze you so hard right now!” You giggle, happy to see her so excited and happy to have missed out on the excruciating hugs that she no doubt gives. You hand her a plate with a fresh omelette on top. “Aw, thanks Tav!” She takes it away and shows it off to the rest of the group who begin to form a line. One by one you hand them a plate, each showing gratitude in response. Well, aside from Lae’zel who says nothing. Oh, and Astarion who… Didn’t even join the line. He sits by the fire with the rest, empty handed.

Does he just… not eat?

You fix him and yourself a plate and bring it over. “Here.” You hold it in front of him so he can smell it. He looks at it, then you.

“Thank you darling, but I’m not hungry.” He begins to push it away.

“You didn’t eat last night either, you must be starving. Come on, I promise my cooking isn’t terrible.”

He chuckles. “I don’t doubt that, my dear, but as I said, I’m not hungry.” You look around to see the others’ reaction, they are mostly trying to ignore the conversation, but occasionally you get some glances. They’re hard to read.

“Are you sure?” You ask, vexed. He nods. “Alright… Suit yourself. Does anyone want seconds?” Immediately several hands shoot up, you chuckle and take it away, cutting it up into even slices to hand out.

Finally, you sit with them to enjoy your share. You slip the apron off and set it to one side. Knife and fork in hand, you begin eating, once you look up, you notice that Gale, who is sat next to you, is stealing glances at you in his robe. “What’s the matter? Did I get something on it?” You start searching the fabric for possible stains.

“No, no. It looks great-er-good-fine. Yes, fine.” His stuttered response makes you smile, he’s blushing. You continue eating, every now and then, checking to see if his cheeks are still bright red, they consistently are. The others occasionally check you out too, though less frequently and a lot more casually. Even Lae’zel seems somewhat interested in your new outfit. Astarion, however, is more focused on Gale, watching him intensely out of the corner of his eye. “So, er… You wanted some camp supplies, is there anything else we can get for you?” Gale asks, avoiding looking at you.

“Hmm… Yes actually, maybe a change of clothes?”

“Done.” He smiles.

“I was wondering, the nearby lake, is it safe? To bathe in, I mean.”

Gale clears his throat at the thought of you bathing before speaking. “Y-yes. We made sure of that, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, good.” His eyes are wide, still avoiding looking at you. You chuckle to yourself at his reaction. You spot Astarion, no longer is Gale in the corner of his eye, he is now in full, direct view. It’s difficult to read his expression.

You finish up and take everyone’s plates back to the station. Everyone gets ready for their day, slipping on armour and equipping weapons. Karlach in particular looks rather dashing in her armour. The heroic look suits her and you aren’t the only one who seems to notice. Shadowheart watches her adjust the equipment from afar. You smile as you watch the silent, one-sided interaction between the two. Shadowheart notices you and looks away, sheepishly. You turn away to give her some privacy and continue washing the dishes. Karlach yells a goodbye in your direction, you turn and wave a wet hand in the air as you watch the odd gathering of companions leave the camp.

You spend the rest of the day cleaning and preparing ingredients for the evening meal. At about midday, Wyll arrives, alone. “Hey, Tav- Woah… The camp looks great… And is that dinner being prepared already? I think you might be the best addition to our group yet!” He laughs, appreciating your work.

You shrug, nonchalantly. “Just doing my bit. Why are you back so early?”

“Oh, yes, well, usually someone comes back to drop off heavy loads of things we find along the way, and today I pulled the short straw.” He smiles, rubbing the back of his head. “Oh, by the way, we stopped off at the grove. It turns out the tieflings are just about finished preparing to leave. They want to come to our camp tonight to celebrate.”

“They’re leaving? But didn’t you just secure the grove?”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t their home to begin with, they were just looking for a safe passage to leave.”

“I see.” The memory of the few tieflings that stood up to Minthara and her army cross your mind. You admire them and their courage, then you feel a pang of guilt, for you were the one who put them in danger. Then you realise that if you saw them, they saw you…

On the wrong side…

“Anyway, here’s today’s load, would you mind sorting through it? I think the things you requested are in here too.” He drops a large, heavy backpack at your feet.

“Of course, I’ll see you later.” He smiles and bows elegantly, you giggle and curtsy back (not so elegantly) before he leaves.

You go through the contents of the backpack finding various potions, magical items and armour pieces. You pull out a large fabric, dark green with flecks of gold, very similar colours to the robe you’re wearing. As you stretch it out you see a large splodge of blood, you grimace and roll it back up, you don’t want to know how it got there. You add it to the laundry basket. Lastly, you take out a burnt orange shirt, a brown corset and a pair of dark brown leather pants. You take the corset and hold it close.

Finally! Some support!

As comfortable as it can be wearing nothing on your chest, it can really make your back ache. This should definitely help. Thank the gods that there are other women in this party who would know to look for these things.

You organise and pack away the items, then begin doing laundry in the lake. A shadow of the blood stain is still on the fabric but it will have to do. You hang it all up to dry and gather more materials to set up your very own tent. Now, to pick a spot… It seems that the only option that’s big and safe enough is between Karlach and Astarion’s tents. You begin to place the materials down and plan it out, exactly how you want it.

Propping up sticks and hammering them into the ground, laying down the pelts from earlier to act as a rug, hanging little, handmade decorations at the entrance and finally, once dry, draping the fabric over it all and securing it. It looks cosy enough, you sit inside for a moment, enjoying your new shelter when you hear commotion in the distance. You hear a few voices that you recognise, and many you don’t. It seems the party has begun.

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

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#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #spawn astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #ascended astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #astarion my beloved #astarion baldurs gate #astarion baldurs gate 3 #astarion bg3 #astarion brainrot #astarion fic #astarion fluff #astarion romance #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldurs gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #tav x astarion #slow burn #bg3 spoilers #bg3 romance #bg3 tav #astarion x female tav #fem!reader #fem!tav

[plainemmanem]

* You're Mine (chapter seven)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary: The aftermath.

Warnings: slight angst

Word Count: 1,527

A/N: let's see how our cocky flyboy can make it up to us, shall we? thanks for sticking with this roller coaster ride with me<3 hope you enjoy! p.s. let me know if you’d like a poe pov to this chapter, i have a couple ideas in mind ;p feel free to dm me or leave a comment to be added to the taglist!

also available here :]

You ran. You didn’t even know where you were going, but you just knew you had to get out of medbay and away from Poe’s prying eyes and Zorii’s sympathetic smiles.

You were fighting hard to keep the tears from falling down your face. 

You don’t even know why you were crying. It’s not like you two were together, he didn’t lie to you. The only thing he did was withhold information from you. 

But, you felt cheated. You felt lied to. 

Poe was one of the only people on base you actually trusted, and maybe even liked, and now you realize he’s been keeping the truth from you all this time.

It's not because I have a crush on him, no! Of course not. It’s the fact he kept it from me.

But why did he flirt with you so much? Why did he lead you on?

Maybe his flirty actions really did mean nothing to him… Maybe he was just being nice…?

But you could have sworn there was something else behind all those flirtatious remarks and lingering touches.

You just kept running, gaining more and more stares as you passed through the caf, past the landing area, down the resident hallways. 

Quickly, you stopped at your door, fumbling with the 4 digit code because of your blurry vision. Luckily, you got the combination eventually and you hurriedly scurry inside, slamming the door behind you. You spin and press your back against the cool metal door, taking a deep breath to compose yourself, before slowly sliding down to the ground, hugging your knees into your chest.

You had stopped from crying, but your tears were quickly replaced with embarrassment. 

Poe Dameron? You really thought Poe Dameron could like you? After three conversations? You can’t even make friends on base, how could you expect the best pilot in the Resistance to actually like you. Please.

You felt so foolish and stupid. 

He flirts with everyone. He was just being nice.

You squeeze your eyes tight, trying to fight the urge to cringe at all of your embarrassing thoughts and actions towards the pilot.

Maker, how could I be so delusional?

Suddenly you heard footsteps running outside your door. Three swift knocks rapped on the metal, giving you goosebumps from the vibrations against your back.

You heard your name through the door and dropped your head into your knees.

“Please… Please let me in. I know you’re in there.” 

It was Poe. He sounded dejected, and, frankly, out of breath. 

You couldn’t talk to him now, you couldn’t see his perfect hair and his perfect face and actually try to keep your dignity after the embarrassing flirting and the feelings and the - blegh. 

You just sat there, continuing to clutch your legs into your chest for dear life. Trying to hold yourself together.

Poe sighed and said your name in the saddest tone imaginable, and you almost opened the door right there. 

But even though you were mainly mad at yourself, you were partially mad at him, too. For acting the way he did. For leading you on - intentional or not. He needs to learn a lesson. He needs to learn that you can’t just toy with people’s emotions. You can’t just lead someone on and not even mention that pesky little situation of the wife you have back home. Scratch that, the wife you have on base who is sweet and nice and perfect. You can’t even hate her.

Poe was still outside your door, waiting for you to cave, but you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of apologizing, if that’s what he even wanted to say to you, anyway.

From now on you wouldn’t think about his perfect hair or his cocky grin. You wouldn’t think of him at all. 

From now on, he will be the enemy. Because if the only way you can get that perfect smile out of your brain is to hate him, then that’s what you’ll do.

From here on out, you would hate Poe Dameron.

As the days went by, your strategy for forgetting Poe Dameron was quickly proving difficult.

You saw him everywhere, both literally and figuratively. You had to see him in the halls. You had to see him working on his x-wing. You had to hear him talk in meetings and debriefings. You had to see his stupid face on every stupid Resistance poster.

But you also saw him every time you went to the gym. The image of him pinning you to the mat popping into your brain every time you reared back for a punch. You saw him in the books you read and in the sky when you looked out the window. You saw his stupid smile when you closed your eyes at night.

It was infuriating. Your mind was betraying you. On every other front, you were doing an amazing job keeping him away. Quickly leaving mission debriefings right after you were dismissed so you didn’t give him a chance to come up to you. The second he spotted you in the caf, he would always run after you, but you left before he could stop you, taking your meal directly to your room. You even switched up your routine so you would go to the gym only when you knew he was preoccupied, to be absolutely sure he wouldn’t try to catch you there again. 

Some people might say you were taking things a little too far, shaping your life around him. You knew his schedule, you were hyper aware when he walked in a room. But you convinced yourself that this was all part of the plan. The “Hating Poe Dameron” plan. You weren’t hyper aware of him because you still liked him. No, don’t be silly.

Of course, your hasty exits and evasions never stopped Poe from burning his gaze into you, constantly giving you looks of sympathy and regret from across the room any chance he could. 

For about a week after the incident, he would come to your room everyday at around 6 p.m. when all his meetings were over and he was done tinkering with his ship. He always came, knocked on your door three times, and said your name ever so gently, so as not to startle you. He always asked to talk, to explain himself. It was like clockwork. 

Part of you wanted to hate it, to hate him, but you couldn’t, not with all the effort he was putting in. On some occasions you even got up and made it all the way to the doorknob, about to let him in. But you always pulled away at the last second. 

You knew it was childish. You knew you should just hear him out and resolve whatever issue there was between you. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t because you knew the second he gave you that look, said your name with that voice, it would be over. You would fall right back into him and not let him go. 

That’s why you never gave him the chance to speak with you, why you never met his gaze for more than a brief moment as he gave you that regretful look. 

You had to hate him, or at least try, because now you knew he was off limits. Plus, you didn’t want to have your trust broken again. Five years since you’ve opened up to someone and it turns out he was pretending the whole time. 

Well… Never again. 

Another week or so went by and Poe was still showing up at your door, just less frequently. He actually got into the habit of talking to you through the door - full-blown conversations. 

“How’s your wrist?” he would ask.

Silence.

“Yeah... I thought you’d say that… Leia wanted to see you, says she has some new mission she wants some counseling on… Why she asked me to tell you, who knows? She knows our friendship is a little… one-sided, these days.”

Silence.

He would wait outside for a few more moments, not wanting to leave in case you changed your mind, before saying goodnight and walking off to his own room.

You felt bad. He obviously just wanted to rekindle your friendship. But, you know that Poe Dameron was a slippery slope and you didn’t want to get caught up in that again.

Eventually, Poe stopped coming all together, finally taking the hint you no longer wanted to associate with him. The apologetic stares during meetings slowly faded, replaced with professional swipes of the eyes, or no contact at all. He no longer ran after you at the caf or looked for you after debriefings. It seemed like he was doing his part to forget you, too.

Good, you thought, about time he took the hint.

… You would never admit it, but you missed those longing stares, the late night conversations through the door. You just missed him, in whatever capacity you could have him. 

But, no. This was better. Wipe the slate clean.

Everyday you reminded yourself he was married. 

And everyday you two grew further and further apart.

Taglist<3 @ninjarose23 @lovinnscarletknight @fallinallinmendes

#fanfic #poe dameron #smut #fluff #angst #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x female reader

[b-o-e]

HI BOE!!!!

i read the most recent installment the other day but was too busy to say anything:((

anyway I LOVE YOUR WRITING STYLE SO MUCH -- I JUST WANNA NOM ON IT

ughh i love the way the fic turned out -- it was so sweet <3333

im so grateful that you wrote this series, and i can't wait to read any future works by you in the future!!

also: this is your formal reminder to drink water!!!

ok byeeeeeeee

~ 🍞

(ps if you saw a different ask by me you caj disregard this one my tumblr crashed and i didnt know if it sent or not :(( anyway byeee)

HI BREAD GAHAHAH!

thank you!!! sometimes I feel the same about these messages!!! I just wanna!! BITE!!! whip my head around and go GRRRRARAARRAAR!!!

but!!! I’m afraid I would probably damage my phone. so I will withhold my urges!!! for now!!!

but thank you again, I really appreciate it. I’m glad you enjoyed it all. I think you will enjoy my next fic, too ;))) I’m getting excited about it, gahahah!!

I will give you a lil piece of information about it, a potential title!! as of right now, the title I have down is “alone with you, take two”. take that as you please ;))

I shall guzzle some water for you when i get home!! and chocolate milk!!! I love my chocolate milk.

until next time!! MWAH!!!

#boe babbles #🍞anon #can’t wait to be done work GRRRR #can’t wait to write GRRRRR #but I also have to go to the gym tonight so we will see if I have enough energy or not gahahah

[in-singh]

A Tuesday in August | Mid-Morning | Miss Penniworth’s, Spitalfields

    A clock chimed in the corridor of a town home in a dilapidated London slum. Peter glanced at his wristwatch before dousing his hands with antiseptic. “Well, Miss Karp, your stitches look to be completely healed. I do not see any reason you cannot resume work,” he explained pleasantly. At the silence that followed, he looked to the young woman. “That is…if you so choose.”

“A’do, sir!” came the meek voice in reply. “My aunt has been writin’ an’ asking for funds all month, sayin’ Georgie needs new shoes. I’m nearly out of money, so the sooner I get back to work, the better.”

The voice belonged to a Miss Hattie Karp of St. Giles. She was nineteen years old, just barely older than his sister, and was already a mother of two. The thought alone made Peter shudder. “‘Sides, I make tons more here than at the factory, ‘ats for sure.”

Peter pressed his lips together in contemplation. Making his rounds on the East End was never easy. There was always a sickly babe or child fighting croup. 

In this case, he was checking up on patients in one of the many brothels in London. It was extremely difficult to treat the ladies who worked there, ladies who could’ve so easily been daughters of the better off and not had to turn to a lifestyle of such debauchery. Still, it was Peter’s duty to do right by his patients, and to withhold any judgement that didn’t concern their health.

“How is the new little boy?” He asked, leaning against the wall. The smile that lit Hattie’s face made Peter feel much better.

The young lady, now fully dressed, sat on the edge of her bed, beaming. “Very good, sir. His father writes almost weekly. Well, his secretary writes. Joseph is nearly five months old and growing every day.”

“Good, good.” Peter replied kindly, crossing his arms.

He had been in Birmingham at the time of the birth, but had been in correspondence with the midwives who had delivered the child. A large baby, nearly ten pounds and healthy as a horse, according to their notes. Hattie named him Joseph. He was the son of a widowed Viscount with five daughters. The gentleman had been a bit contemptuous at the news, but welcomed his son with open arms after learning it was a long-awaited heir to his title. Joseph was sent for only a week after his birth, but his mother was happier for her child’s gain than sad for her loss.

They are soon interrupted by Miss Penniworth herself who glides into Hattie’s quarters with a tray of brandy and cakes. Her (probably fake) jewelry jangled against her large bosom with her every step. “Dr. Collins, sir, stay for a drink.” She practically sings, sitting down on the bed and pouring herself a glass. “One of my new girls has offered to serve you as our Hattie’s payment.”

“She’s right pretty, she is.” Hattie eagerly informs him.

Their offer sends shivers down Peter’s spine, but he brushes it off casually. “I’ve told you, ma’am, you need not pay. Tis my duty as a medical professional.”

He never took any kind of repayment, especially anything so physical, though the madam always urged. Simply knowing that he was helping someone in need was always worth more to Peter than money or sex.

“Well then, we shall see you next season, my dear.” Penniworth drawled, downing the rest of her brandy in one sip.

That was all the thanks Peter needed to hurry out. He hopped back into the curricle and was back at Collins House in time for luncheon.

#self para #theseason;tuesday

[coghive]

Nokulunga Mabuza Release Her Debut Ep ‘Rest’ || @noku_lungi

Born and raised in Nelspruit, South Africa, Nokulunga discovered her love for music at a tender age and was blessed with music teachers in school who encouraged her in her passions and developed her love and confidence for performing.  She came to Johannesburg in pursuit of her tertiary qualifications (BAccSci) which she completed at the university of Witwatersrand and is now a CA (SA). Her EP titled Rest which was released this year has been nominated in two categories at the INGOMA Music Awards 2022: Best Contemporary Gospel Album / Best Gospel Music Video. “This offering was birthed from a very low and challenging time in my life where I felt rejected, forsaken, and unlovable. Through spending time in the Word of God I was reminded of who I am, of who Jesus is, and of how much God loves me, unconditionally. Not because of anything I have done but simply because love is His nature. God is love.” – Nokulunga Track list 1. Rest Inspired by the Psalm 62:1 In Matthew 11:28 Jesus says, “come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” He says, “take my yoke upon you and learn from me”. Jesus also likens us to sheep in the Bible and unlike a donkey or a camel, sheep were never made to carry loads so in the same way we were never made to carry our own burdens. That is why Jesus urges us to take upon us His yoke. For His yoke is easy and his burden is light. I was reminded in these scriptures that only Jesus can give us peace and fulfilment. Regardless of the challenges we face resting in Him is trusting in Him and that is what anchors us through the storms of life. Watch Music Video Below: https://youtu.be/-CQlRqM1bks 2. Umbuso  A Zulu word meaning “Kingdom” taken from the Lord’s Prayer – “Your Kingdom come your will be done”. More than just a prayer this song is a call to action for the children of God. A reminder that the only way for the Kingdom of Heaven to be established here on earth is through us taking a stand, doing the will of the father, and speaking His will into our situations and circumstances. In Genesis 1:28 it says God created man and then gave him dominion over the birds in the air, the fish in the sea and every living creature that moves on the earth.  We have dominion, we have authority here on earth. And we have divine empowerment because the same spirit that raised Christ from the dead resides in us. Watch Music Video Below: https://youtu.be/NrhkNesC95A 3. Lifter of my head Inspired by Psalm 3 Jesus protects us but more than that He restores us. If we will withhold nothing and bring our full selves to Him, he is a restorer of broken hearts, broken dreams, and lost vision. Nothing surprises God, our missteps and faults do not get in the way of what He has planned for us. Doesn’t matter why you did; He has not changed His mind about You because He knew everything about you before He called and chose you. 4. Everything This upbeat, fun track really is me just basking in the realization and knowledge that Jesus is everything I need. Seek first the Kingdom of Heaven and all these other things shall be added unto you. We spend time chasing all these other things through our own efforts and plans not realizing that there is a simpler way to lead life. Trusting in Him, resting in Him and loving in a heart-posture of total surrender. Watch Music Video Below: https://youtu.be/koXHFfAO_fc DOWNLOAD/STREAM EP CONTACT: Bookings: [email protected] Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nokulunga_mabuza Twitter: https://twitter.com/noku_lungi YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCgSeoWSbv7ZibGNCO3FxHkg Read the full article

#NokulungaMabuza

[poptod]

Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them To Me), (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: The new Pharaoh has a bit of an obsession problem.

Notes: i suppose this would technically be yandere but i really dont want to admit that i wrote yandere fanfiction about a childrens movie WC: 4.6k

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He called himself a savior. His people called him a God. Thus he acted as a sort of savior God, decked in gold, more powerful than the kings of a hundred foreign lands. He kept his friends close as he had no enemies, those in power too afraid to stand up to his might. 

It was not as though he was undeserving of this title––quite the opposite. He dug his country out of a dangerous recession that followed an invasion by the Hittites. He defended his status as Pharaoh against his tyrannical elder brother, who had attempted to claim his rightful place on the throne. He brought great prosperity to his people and maintained his image of regality, the untouchable air around him, as though the Gods truly did walk the earth in the form of him. 

Here he was, the most powerful man to walk the earth, coddling you as his fingers ran through your hair.

The decisions that brought you to this moment were poorly thought out at best and downright shameful at worst. Your home in the southeast of Africa now lay what felt like eons behind you, hazy memories of chains and scuffing, bloodied feet whirling in your head. Even in your village you knew of him––not by name, of course––and had already grown to fear him. By the time you got out of your home village and began going market to market, you knew to stay clear of him at all costs. But his dirty soldiers were everywhere, and constant vigilance brought you back-breaking stress that had your steps faltering. 

Your stumbling was what brought you here. Stumbling into prison, stumbling into a palace, stumbling into a King's chambers.

"Aren't you just gorgeous," he cooed softly, petting your head. 

The rough, uneven pull of your breath was the only disturbance in the peaceful room, bathed in warm light and Egyptian paintings. Every nerve in your body screamed to get away, to worm yourself out of his touch, but with every attempt he just held you tighter. 

"What's your name? You look hungry," he said, eyes scanning your panicked face. "Would you like something to eat?"

Punch him. Talking to you like a dog.

You shook the thought out of your head, but the Pharaoh took it as a nod of confirmation. 

"We'll get you some food," he decided with a smile, separating from you long enough to stand and pull you up with him. 

He did not part his hand from yours, instead leading you through the long, tall hallways and their arches that painted scenes from stories you didn't know. Your past excursions to Egypt had hailed no such royalty, nor did any of your other travels. Most of the time you stayed in hostels and taverns. The grandeur and sanctity of churches and temples were as close as you got to this, standing on the cusp of a garden that stretched further than you could see, the white alabaster pillars lining your vision. 

"Come," he said, and you thought it best to try not to disobey him. "This is a food garden. You can eat anything you like."

It had been a while since you'd gotten a good meal. The last thing you ate was hardtack from a tavern about a six-hour walk down the river from here. 

The Pharaoh followed closely behind as you moved forward, constantly looking over your shoulder as you scanned the different vines and bushes. It was the color that caught your eye––most of the plants along the Nile sported an olive-type green, dull and yellow-ish. Many of the leaves in this garden were a bright green, more so than moss and grass, lively and soft beneath your fingers.

Only after scanning the whole of the garden did you decide on what to eat. From blossoming flowers in the water that lined the walkway to the figs hung high on the trees, you chose plums sprouted fruitfully from a short tree.

You sat right where you stood as you began gnawing at the flesh, tangy juice dripping from your bite marks. After a moment of watching you the Pharaoh lowered himself to your height, earning a chary side glance from you. 

"What is your name, lovely?" He asked again, much softer, as he once more began to pet your hair. Most other times you would've shaken the hand off, but most other times it wasn't Pharaohs touching you. 

"Amoke," you said through a rough throat and full mouth. Your voice had remained unused since you stepped foot in jail, and it was only now that you were reintegrating its' use.

"Amoke," he repeated, nodding. "A western name. Is that where you're from?"

You nodded.

"Do you like it there?" He asked quietly.

You shrugged.

"I should like to keep you here, then," he murmured, gaze flickering to every feature on your face. You watched his interest closely.

What came to mind was that you didn't want to stay here––that you wanted to keep on the road, stay away from the permanent and escape the inevitable routine. You couldn't say that, though. Not to his face. With nothing on your mind but leaving him and his touch, you remained silent in the wake of his request. 

The sun soon set behind the garden's walls, casting long shadows that consumed the both of you without fail. When the residual light of the sky began to fade, he took your hand, paying the stickiness no mind as he led you back into the palace.

"I shall keep you in my room," he said with a firm confidence in his tone that stewed in your empty chest. "If ever you need something, just tell me. I can give you anything you desire. During the day you should stay in my room as well––it's safer that way. I'll be able to keep you safe."

From what?

Fifteen years travelling the world on your own and now you're forced into a single room for your 'protection.'

"My name is Ahkmenrah, though most call me by my title. 'My King,' and such. You may call me what you wish. I don't mind," he said, a smile crossing his features as he opened the door set in front of you. His eye only tore from you for a second before his attention was back, scanning the way you stepped nearer to him and into the room. 

The once-bright light of sunset had vanished in his bedroom, replaced by the eerie purple of a late dusk. Outside the balcony arches, the sky bore an ombre of plum and blush, reaching up into the dome where stars had already come to see the world.

"I know your name already," you murmured, staring out to the city. His eyes remained ever on you, burning the back of your neck. "I know you freed many of your slaves but kept worker camps in Kush. I know you intimidated every nation so severely you can do anything you want now. It's not like anyone will stop you."

"You're knowledgable," he said, taking a seat on the floor.

"Is that what's happening here?" You asked, but he didn't quite understand. At his confusion you sighed but continued. "Am I supposed to be intimidated enough by you that I will stay here of my own free will?"

He furrowed his brow, tilting his head ever so lightly to the left.

"You... don't want to stay here?"

"No. I have a life that I'd like to get back to." Much of it being avoiding you.

"I don't understand," he said after a beat of silence. "You want to leave? But – there is nothing in the world I cannot give you here. Any riches you want, yours. Any delicacies are yours."

Ahkmenrah collected things. Already it was clear enough to see––collect and retain an image that prevents any fight against him, collect the riches of the world to give to his people and himself, collect the respect of those around him, and collect you. He will share with you everything he has gained if only you join this ever-growing, ceaseless collection of belongings. There is nothing stranger than being offered to become a toy.

"I prefer to keep moving. Meet new people," you said.

"You'll be safe here," he said, reaching for your hand. You instinctively pulled your hand away, but a sudden poisonous glare overtook his eye, and your heart froze in its' place long enough for him to gracefully lead you to your knees.

With you now raised on your knees, he met your height, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. 

"I don't need to be –"

"You will stay here," he said, his intensity thrumming in your nerves. Once again there was no thought more comforting than leaving this place.

He must've noticed the panicked look on your face, as his expression softened.

"Do you understand? Oh, lovely," he said in a hum, fawning over you as his touch overcrowded your senses. His nose rubbing up beneath your jaw as he nuzzled into you, his hand holding your hip tight as the other tangled in your hair. He took in your scent with deep appreciation. "Sweet darling.. pretty one."

His mumbles grew less coherent the longer he held you, dusk fading into midnight as the silence of crickets resounded in the distant flora. The tension in your chest never fell, leaving you exhausted with your stiff breaths, bags beneath your eyes begging you to fall asleep, even if it was in the possession of another.

From waking up in an underground prison to mistakenly entering a King's chambers, the day weighed heavy on your mind with little solace at the end. Still, the body has its' cravings that will never relent, and you fell asleep to the rhythm of his praising murmurs and stroking hands. 

Even hours later you awoke to arms still twisted around you, keeping you pressed tight to the warmth of the Pharaoh's chest. Hunger bit at your stomach, acid burning around the empty walls in a sweet reminder of your recent diet. Two-ingredient crackers and two plums in the last two days. You supposed that you wouldn't have to worry much about that in the future, so long as you stayed in his graces. While you doubted he would withhold food from you as punishment, you wouldn't put it past him, as it was a common jail tactic in many cities.

Wandering had been your sin for many years before this moment, and it would continue to be so whether or not you gave into the urge. Being stuck in any place––even one so comfortable as this––itched at your skin, tugged at your motionless legs and pulled at your scattered fingers. Despite your original insistence that you should stay still, your foot began to gently bounce as your fingers fidgeted restlessly. Your eyes darted every which way.

"I see you're awake," he mumbled, voice barely there in the first dregs of morning. "Stay a little longer."

Not that you really had a choice. His legs were all tangled in yours and you could barely move.

For what seemed to be another hour and a half you lay there, wondering when he would wake again and finally release you. He couldn't keep you here forever––not sleeping with him, not in this palace. It was clear he would not willingly let you go, so in the meantime ideas stirred in your head, plotting out ways to escape without his knowledge.

A knock came from the door when rays of sunlight began to touch the bedroom floor, flooding in through the arches. You wriggled when you heard the sound, disturbing Ahkmenrah from his sleepiness, which at last led to the loosening of his grip. The moment he went lax you tore yourself away.

Breath finally returned to you, the long hours of night fading away as your chest heaved an even up and down. The blankets around you fell as the Pharaoh stood, making his way to the large doors, where he removed the lock to let in a lean servant.

"Good morning, my King," he said, his gaze naturally coming to you. He stared at you but addressed Ahk, his words concise and posture straight. "You have a meeting with the embalmers of Thebes this morning, on the false accusations. After that you have –"

"– to overlook the temple building in the markets, yes, I know. My memory isn't that bad," Ahkmenrah grumbled, sighing deeply as he rubbed his face with his hand.

"Apologies, I just..." the servant's eyes flickered to yours, "didn't know if you.. drank last night."

"Just a glass, Naguib," he said with a slight smile, one that fell once Naguib began to root through his wardrobe.

You watched from your spot on the floor; the glint of gold in the closet, the mirror perfectly reflecting the King's standing position. His reflection yawned, dreary eyes meeting yours with a gentle delight. Instantly your vision darted away. 

"Amoke, this is Naguib," he said, and in that moment you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was smiling expectantly, the servant behind him waving a polite hello. You returned the wave and he appeared to be satisfied.

Naguib picked the King's clothes and donned them on him, from the lapis beaded collar to gold cuffs on every wrist and ankle. The cape that streamed from his shoulders was a light all its' own, as though Ahkmenrah wore the sun upon his back, the silk drifting in gentle waves towards the marble floor. Only the crown was more regal than that, but above all was the man himself. The sweet coos and fawning words of the previous evening had faded into a stone face, pride on his puffed chest, and cunning on his parted lips. 

"I'm afraid I'll have to leave you here for the day," he said as he stared at his reflection, smoothing out the wrinkles in his sleeves and the unevenness of his necklace.

"But –"

"No," he interrupted you before you could truly start, voice dipping low as half-lidded eyes turned to you. 

There was something about his stare––something about the way he looked at you, as though he knew every thought in your head. This must've been the look that, in part, earned him his reputation. 

"Stay here, pet," he said in a softer voice, bending down to kiss your forehead.

His lips were warm and enviously soft on your skin, but you had little time to process it before his cape whipped behind him, leaving you alone in the room. Naguib had left with him and locked the door. Now the only sound to calm the incessant ringing in your ears was the incredibly distant murmurs of an early-morning market, filled with birdsong and calling voices attempting to sell their work. 

Fumbling to stand, you padded with bare feet towards the open arches. From here you could see the Nile and the many temples sprouted up throughout the city, their towers marking themselves distinct from the houses cluttering the twisting streets. It wasn't all unlike the other cities you'd seen––a different architecture style, of course, but similar nonetheless.

The arches had no railings of any sort, so as you peered over the edge, you kept both hands on the pillar beside you. Right beneath the Pharaoh's room was a garden, smaller than the one you had visited the night before. 

It wasn't too far down, either.

You darted back into the room, pulling the thin blankets off the bed and off the floor, tying the ends together with frantic hands. Even your breath hastened to match your heartbeat, speeding dangerously in your chest as apprehension filled you. There was no time to waste––you needed to escape now, before he came back, before you had to memorize his routine; before this became more than a two-day problem.

Guards in their uniforms passed by outside, circling the palace with spears in their hands. You glanced out at them as you worked, trying to find the rhythm in their marching, and having little luck before you realized there were multiple groups passing by the arches at different times. A soft groan left you as you bit your lip in irritation. More things to calculate.

Although the ground didn't seem all too far away, it took a decent amount of time before the makeshift rope could reach the ground. Several hours of rearranging the types of knots and their placements finally wrought good results––the lowest blanket could now touch one of the trees near the garden's entrance, which you could use as a way down.

The sun had to be around midday, going by the shadows, and you assumed the Pharaoh would not be back to his bedroom until later in the evening. Before you could stay to see that time, you tied one end of your blanket rope to the arch's pillar and casted the length of it below you.

Hesitation caught you as you attempted to climb down, the sheer height of the building catching you off guard. What once seemed a short way was suddenly a means of death––not that it wasn't ever that before––and you could barely breathe with how tight your throat became. Your shaking hands gripped the cloth tight, sweating with the tension building in your muscles. Gentle breezes only accentuated your sweat, but it was not of import to you. All that remained on your mind in the overcrowding of fear was the need to escape, and thus you returned to your task, carefully scaling down the palace wall.

Nothing but silence dared make a sound in your thoughts as you climbed, breath evening further with every step you took downwards. The anxiousness only faded once you could see the individual leaves of the tree below you, and the design of the blanket stretched out on its limbs, crimson red and gold in the sunlight.

The moment you could reach you did so, clambering onto the thin branches in hopes of swinging towards the thicker ones. As you reached for the next branch, another hit your wrist, pain instantly shocking your left hand out of its' grip. Fortunately you caught yourself; just barely, and a second later you dropped to the ground with a huff.

You ran.

Without thought you ran, as fast as your feet could take you, as far as your lungs would allow. Air began to sting in your lungs, wind biting at the back of your open throat as you bounded through the halls, praying you wouldn't meet anyone on your way out.

The Pharaoh and his power was intimidating, no one could deny that, but your fears remained centralized in the idea of being known. You scarcely gave your name and hated living on in memory. Your own world was perfectly fine and you found no need to exist in anybody else's, no matter how much Ahkmenrah wanted you to.

But of course your stumbling would get you. As your thoughts were occupied, you paid little attention to the road in front of you, toppling over a railing you hadn't noticed yourself barreling towards. You tried to catch yourself with bulging eyes, but the ceiling was fading with mortifying speed. Bile filled your mouth as a sickness invaded your stomach.

Cool water splashed around you, soaking your clothes and skin alike as you sunk into the pool. Vines entangled you, the legs of lily pads separating in your wake, their flowers naught but silhouettes above you. A shadow appeared above you, but before you could make any decision it grabbed your upper arm and forced you out of the water.

"Ohh, dearest," sung a voice, accompanied by the close cradling of your body despite it being soaked. The sick feeling in your belly grew into a poison as recognition came to you. Your muscles tensed again in his grip, every nerve fighting against a fleeing instinct.

"My King, isn –"

"Quiet, Gyasi. My poor, sweet love... what are you doing here?" He asked, his hand coming up to stroke the hair away from your face. "I told you not to leave the room."

You shivered, leftover adrenaline sending shakes throughout your body. It left a tense silence where you would originally reply.

"You feel cold," he said, though you didn't feel at all cold. "Let's get you cleaned up, hm? I ought to do it anyway, since your clothes are a little torn."

He brought you to your feet, keeping an arm around you as he patiently led you away from the pond and those gathered there. Most everyone stared at you as you left, but you could barely notice, your vision blurred and hazy.

Steam filled your senses in the room he led you to, warm and scented with honey and lavender. Your eyes opened there, head raised to see the servant women working, stoking the fires and heating the water. Beside you, Ahk motioned to one of them, mumbling something in her ear that sent her out the door. Though curiosity did come to you, you kept silent in the unease of the Pharaoh's presence.

He had yet to accuse you of trying to escape, but it was only a matter of time. The rope in his room was still hung off the balcony. That fact kept you wary as much as it kept you jumpy, something Ahkmenrah unfortunately noticed.

By the hands on your shoulders he led you to a bath dug into the raised floor, the water inside steaming pleasantly with the scent of honey. Reluctantly you began to peel your clothes away, all too aware of his eye on you, memorizing how you stripped yourself down. As you dipped into the water, you attempted at removing the sick irritation you connected with him staring at you. It would happen quite a lot more (whether or not you wanted it to) before you could leave this place.

"Do you have any injuries?" He asked as he moved to sit beside you, his golden robes dirtying on the floor.

"I don't know," you said hoarsely.

"I'll have one of our physicians look over you. That was a long fall," he said, leaning forward to kiss your forehead again, before standing and leaving you to the care of the servants.

As promised, a physician visited you shortly, scanning over you while one of the women scrubbed at the dirt beneath your fingernails. The heat of the water calmed your muscles, untensing your anxious grips even as you were bombarded with questions.

By the time the servant women had dried and dressed you in new clothes, the Pharaoh had yet to return from whatever excursion he had left on. It didn't bother you, considering you didn't especially like being around him, but it did leave you wondering as you lazily watched the servants. Even if you wanted to leave you couldn't; you had no idea where in the palace you were, and there was a fair amount of guards wandering around outside the room. You bit at the inside of your cheek.

A good while later––far past the midday when you'd first fallen––he returned with singed clothes, ash covering his face. Your eyes widened at his appearance, and he was quick to notice your mild alarm.

"Incident at the, um, Bastet temple. One of the new priests really likes working with fire," he mumbled in a dazed voice, shaking his head as though he was trying to shake himself back into his body. "Are you alright?"

You nodded.

"Good. I've got most of the rest of the evening free, so let's get you back to my room, yes?"

It took quite a lot of self-control not to spit in his face, and much more willpower to slowly nod. He would accept no other answer and the suggestion of such would land you in unknown terrain.

He led you back down the hall, and each step you took burnt your regret into the ground beneath you. If one could identify the scent of fear, it'd be coming off you in floods, obvious in your panicked eyes and hastened breath. He would find the rope, and he would no doubt be angry. None of this would have happened if you had just watched where you were going.

Panic saturated your heart, functionally marinated it, as Ahkmenrah reached forward to open the door in the middle of the hallway. Every click of the latch had you flinching, till the door swung open and the light of late-afternoon hit your eyes.

The rope tied to the arch was inconspicuous, but the absence of nearly all the blankets in the room was not. Slowly the cogs in his brain sped up, and in each passing second you could see further recognition in him, till his eyes turned to the rope knotted around the pillar.

He said nothing––simply moved forward, glanced out and down the balcony, and turned back to you.

"You were trying to escape?" He asked you, nothing behind the tone of his voice, which might as well have been as bad as any anger he could've unleashed.

"I told you I could keep you safe here," he continued, and you, in your head, connected dots that suddenly appeared. He would never let you outside his room now––now that his point has been proven. "See what happens when you disobey?"

You blinked and he was standing in front of you, close enough that every inhale of his chest brushed against your shirt. At first you tried to step away, but he moved to cup your face, keeping you frozen in your spot. Your terrified eyes stared into his.

"The next time you try to leave here without me, I shall have to intervene myself, if you do not hurt yourself on your own as you so often do. Do you understand me?"

You nodded. There was nothing else you could do, not with your throat so tight you could barely swallow.

"I obviously cannot trust you," he said, his gaze flickering between your eyes.

He left you standing in the middle of the room as he went to one of his chests, pulling and unlocking the latch before the creak of hinges sounded in the room. You turned to watch in both interest and worry, patiently waiting for his reveal, before he turned back to you with rope in his hands.

As per usual, your first instinct was to bolt out the door. Your feet practically itched with the tension stored up in them, but you stayed perfectly still, terrified into submission as he pulled you forward. You almost stumbled, but before you could fully do so he pushed you onto his bed. Quickly you moved from your stomach to your back, creeping backwards on the bed as he drew nearer, the rope drawn taut between his hands. Kneeling on the bed with his head held high above yours, he was an opposite from the lovesick King you had first met.

He tied your wrists to the bedpost and you let him. He pulled the knots so tight and intricate there was no hope you could get out without breaking the rope, and you let him.

"I can keep you safe here," he murmured, lodged between your legs with his lips against your temple. Your heart stormed hell in your chest. "You will stay here. Any attempt on your behalf to leave and I will have to punish you. Understand?"

"Then I am a prisoner," you said, your voice hoarse and broken.

"You are what you make yourself," he said in a much more stern tone, looking down at you with knowing, wary eyes. "If it is a prisoner, then so be it. But you will be, throughout all actions and situations, mine."

"I..."

"You belong to me."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

[theleemark]

christmas lights.

genre: strangers to lovers; royal au; lots of fluff

word count: 4091 

pairing: prince!johnny suh x princess!female reader 

synopsis: an arranged marriage between you and the prince from another kingdom whose name you didn’t even know. 

warnings: language (uhh i think that is it)

a/n: hello! happy holidays and merry christmas (if you celebrate it)! i hope everyone is having a good time! this fic is for my secret santa, @notnctu!! i tried to add angst but absolutely failed :( but i still hope you enjoy it! much love to you!! 

thank you for hosting this amazing event, @neoculturechristmas! this was really fun :) 

“Are you fucking serious?” You crossed your arms, scoffing in disbelief. 

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” Mark Lee said, leaning against your doorframe. Like all princesses (aka to-be queens), you, Princess of Astoria, had a personal knight or butler who would be by your side till the very end- and that was Mark Lee. However you and Mark became super close to the point where he was your brother from another mother. 

You huffed, tugging on your blouse to adjust the way it fits your body. “Did Mother tell you that I was meeting him tomorrow? As in a couple of hours from now?” 

Mark glanced behind your shoulder, checking the time. “Yes, the Winter Ball is in fact in a couple of hours. And yes, you will be meeting your future husband there.” 

Your lip formed a tight smile, moving aside to let Mark into your room. He gently bowed down out of habit from greeting the other royals before sitting down on your bed. Closing the door, you rushed over and flopped right beside him. 

“I think it's so stupid that I’m getting married off,” You started, staring up at the smooth ceiling.

“It’s a tradition in Astoria for the Princess to be married off once she comes of age,” Mark’s gaze lingered on you for a second before he let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess it sucks but at least I’ve heard good things about your to-be husband. Cause some of the princes from other kingdoms are so terrible to the point where I don't even know if I can be civil around them.” 

“Is that so?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeahhhh,” he stretched his limbs out and lied down next to you. “The drama I hear from the maids is very spicy.” 

You let out a soft chuckle before sitting up, turning your head to look down at Mark. “I don't even know what this guy’s name is though.” 

“Johnny,” Mark’s eyelashes fluttered open and shut as a small smile lingered on his face. “Johnny Suh. Prince of Neo.” 

The Winter Ball hosted by Astoria was an annual event that gathered all the surrounding kingdoms. Consisting of traditional dances, games of poker, and tons of food (including a chocolate fountain), it was normal for not only noble people to attend but also people who live in the kingdoms. 

Therefore the ballroom had to be gigantic- and it was. The fairy lights sprawled across the room, dangling from the ceiling like stars. Sky blue and white, Astoria’s colors, were splattered across the walls making the room feel open and inviting. Tables covered with sweets and appetizers lined the middle of the room, creating a zig-zag pattern. In the very front of the ballroom was a stage with ruby red drapes adorned with white snowflake looking crystals shining from the light.

The microphone that was front and center of that stage was where your parents would announce the news of your wedding, and just the thought of that made your stomach churn. 

“Good afternoon, Princess,” a woman with soft brown eyes and silky dark hair announced. You watched her through the mirror as she moved elegantly, hips swaying slightly. “I’ll be doing your makeup for today. Is there anything in particular that you want or I should know before starting?” 

As your eyes met hers through the mirror, a smile danced upon your lips before shaking your head from side to side. “Not really. Whatever you feel suits me, do it.” 

“Alright,” Her smile emulated yours as she picked up your moisturizer, pumping out a bit and dotting it across your face. “Let's get started, shall we?” 

“Holy shit, you look beautiful. L-like ethereal!” Mark exclaimed, wide-eyed. His grin took up the entire bottom half of his face as he saw you do a twirl. “The outfit, the makeup, the hair, everything works and makes you look stunning.” 

“Thank you, Mark,” you replied giddily, gently bowing down to greet him. 

Softly, you placed your hand into his and let him escort you into the ballroom that was now packed with people from a diverse number of kingdoms. Your heart was thumping and almost burst out of your chest at the thought that you would be meeting your future husband in less than a minute. Remembering what Mark said, you tried to not make any negative or super positive assumptions about Johnny- just a neutral perspective until you got to know him. 

“Calm down, ____. You’ll be fine, I promise,” Mark whispered in front of a large ballroom door. “Plus, I’m only a couple of feet away from you, shout for me if you need anything.” 

Opening the doors was like entering an entirely new world. Liveliness filled the room, and the smell of food wafted through the air. 

However, as people noticed your presence, the casual conversation was replaced with gaping mouths and awes- The Princess of Astoria was here. 

With one last look of reassurance, Mark let go of your hand and let you walk through the crowded room. Step by step, you had heads turning as you made your way up to the stage. On your way, you made sure to give everyone soft smiles until your eyes gazed over a figure in the background. Tall, with a smirk on his face and curious eyes. Who was he? 

As you got up to the stage, you stood by your parents who proudly beamed down at you.

“Greetings everyone. Welcome to the 70th annual Winter Ball of Astoria,” your father, the king, said through the microphone. “This year’s ball is endearingly special because I am proud to announce that my daughter’s marriage with the Prince of Neo, Johnny Suh.” 

Applause erupted throughout the room and glasses clinked from either end. Your eyes scanned the crowd to find the mysterious man from earlier, but he seemed to have disappeared. 

But then he was next to you- and wow. Although you could only see his side profile, you could tell he was ethereal. His sharp jawline angled eyebrows, and chiseled cheekbones seemed to compliment his styled black hair. The suit he was wearing was expensive- a rich black adorned with a silky satin dress shirt. The watch on his wrist seemed to shine like a diamond as he briefly adjusted it before locking eyes with you. 

You forgot where you were for a second. 

They say eyes are the window to one’s soul, and if that is true, Johnny Suh’s is the most beautiful. The deep brown pierced into yours, and everything faded. Your attention was on nothing but him and him only. Time warped and you didn't even notice until your mother, the queen, gently tapped your shoulder. 

Breaking the strong gaze between you two, a glass of champagne was passed into your hand. You raised it in the air, mimicking your mother. 

“To a successful marriage filled with respect and longevity!” Your father clinked his glass with Johnny’s father, King of Neo, before also doing the same with Johnny. 

You raised your eyebrows at Johnny, urging him to put his glass up to yours as well, but he just stared at you blankly before politely greeting your mother. 

Withholding a scoff, you greeted both his parents with a tight-lipped smile before taking a long sip from your glass. 

Let’s just hope this all goes okay. 

“Look he’s hot, but he's kind of distant. Cold almost,” you blurted to Mark as you packed your bags. As to adhere to traditions, the princess must stay with the husband-to-be a day before the wedding, which was in two days. 

“I mean at least he’s hot,” Mark shrugged his shoulders only to be smacked in the face with your shirt. “But seriously, I’ve heard that he's a sweetheart.” 

“Okay well, I guess not with me,” You said, slightly disappointed since you didn't even get the chance to talk to him. 

Mark let out a sigh before passing you a folded bathroom robe. “I’m sure once you start talking to him he’ll show more of his true nature.” 

“And if it makes you feel better, he probably thought the same way about you,” Mark suggested, chuckling as he did so. “You do have a cold aura when you aren't smiling.” 

“Really?” A surprised gasp left your mouth.

“Really,” Mark confirmed, reaching over to finish zipping up your suitcase. He patted it once to ensure everything was secure before placing it upright on the ground. 

“Now,” he started with a grin, “have fun with your future husband.” 

You rolled your eyes at him before flicking his head. “I’ll try, Mark.” 

You have never been to the Kingdom of Neo before, but you could already tell it would take some time to adjust. 

Neo was known for its music and weaponry- two contradicting things but also why Astoria decided to form a treaty with Neo in the form of your marriage. Astoria did have a handful of top tier blacksmiths and weaponry makers, but nothing like Neo. 

In Neo, every street has at least one weaponry shop and blacksmiths scattered across the kingdoms like stars. Each with their specialty, a diverse number of weapons comes with schools specialized for each one. Neo not only has weapons, but they damn well know how to use them. 

You have only been trained with a bow and arrow and a dagger, which you always keep on you. Although you are pretty damn good with it, you know that it's nothing compared to Johnny, who grew up with training his entire life. 

The engine of the car turning off halted your thoughts. In front of you was a massive stone castle with a rose garden around its perimeter. Johnny stood in between his parents at the huge front doors. He had a blank expression on his face- no excitement but disappointment either.

“Welcome, sweetheart!” His mother said, rushing up to give you a tight hug. A smile automatically took over as you squeezed her back; Her happiness was contagious. 

“I hope you enjoy your stay here,” His father comes and pats your back. “The wedding plans are practically done and now we just need to finalize them before tomorrow.” 

You gave him a silent nod as he ruffled your hair. Looking over at Johnny, you noticed his gaze was on you guys but his expression hasn't changed. He starts coming over when he notices you looking back at him. Your heartbeat began to quicken, and you quickly bowed down to greet him. 

Likewise, he bowed down and greeted you with a small, short-lived smile. “Welcome, Princess.” 

Stunned by his low pitched and raspy voice, your mouth gaped before you gathered yourself together. “T-Thank you.” 

Johnny turned around quickly, and you, along with his parents, followed him into the palace.

“Johnny,” his father announced. “Why don’t you give ___ a tour?” 

“Maybe they’ll get to know each other a bit as well,” his mother giggled in response, looking up her husband. 

“Yes father,” Johnny replied curtly, eyes shifting to your figure in between them. With a simple nod of the head, he silently asked you to follow him. 

Leaving his parents behind, you quickly-paced yourself to catch up with him, walking by him, shoulder-to-shoulder. 

The first place he took you to was the main room, one filled with gold adorned couches and expensive bottles of wine lining the walls. The silence was so thick you could cut it with a knife, but that all changed when he eventually showed you his room. 

“Yeah, this is my room,” he opened the door, and you were greeted with a dark blue room. Scanning the area, your eyes fell on a specific poster that seemed to stir up memories.

“You listen to Coldplay?” you asked, taking a closer look at the poster hanging above his bed. 

Johnny whipped his head towards you with brightened eyes and a grin on his face. “Yeah! I love them!” 

Mirroring him, a huge grin took over your face. He looked so happy talking about Coldplay, and the image of his smile was now embedded into your memory. “Do you have a favorite song by them?” 

“I’d say ‘Yellow’ or even ‘The Scientist’,” he replied giddily looking down at you. “What about you?” 

“Hmm,” you started, fingers grazing over the bouquet of sunflowers underneath the poster. “I’d also say ‘Yellow’, but ‘Christmas Lights’ hits different during this time of the year.” 

“‘Christmas Lights’ is so good!” 

“I can’t celebrate Christmas without it,” you laughed back. His deep brown eyes lightened at your response. 

Although the conversation was short-lived, your eyes caught a flutter of something outside. 

“Hey,” you pierced out the window. “Is it snowing outside?” 

Quizzically, Johnny walked over to his window. Peering over his shoulder, you saw flurries of snow coating the grass. “Yes, Princess, it is in fact snowing.” 

You frowned at the way he addressed you. “You can call me ___, you know?” 

“Okay, ____,” Johnny teased, but the way your name sounded in his voice just felt right. “It is snowing- and a lot.” 

“Well…,” Impulsively, you grabbed his arm and pointed outside. “You want to go out? Maybe have a snowball fight? Or not, that's okay-”

“No, no, no,” Johnny interrupted, bashfully looking at your hand before meeting your eyes. “Let’s do it.” 

“Just know,” he smirked, walking over to his closet and tossing you one of his coats. “I won't be going easy on you.” 

“Never expected you to,” you said, putting on his jacket which was way too big on you, but kept you comfy. You zipped it up and smiled up at him, watching his once cold demeanor melt.

Maybe Mark was right. 

Johnny was a master snowball fighter, and as much as you hate to admit it, he was a tiny bit better than you. Only a tiny bit. 

“Are you ready to give up?” He taunted with a gigantic snowball in his hands, ready to drop it on you. You slipped on the ground a minute ago and haven't stopped laughing, so Johnny took that as defeat. 

“W-wait please,” you pleaded, still in a fit of giggles as Johnny brought the snowball closer to you. “I surrender! I surrender!”

“Too bad,” Johnny shrugged and proceeded to drop it on you. 

“I’mf gomma kill you!” your words were muffled by the snow, causing Johnny to erupt with laughter. Huffing, you got on your feet and chased after him, throwing snowball after snowball. 

Chasing him around the front of the castle, you finally hit him with a snowball in the back of his head. 

“Ouch!” Johnny dramatically stopped and turned around. “I’m so getting you back for that.” 

Not being able to stop yourself you crashed into Johnny’s chest. The snow being slippery, Johnny slid backward but managing to wrap his arms around your waist, stopping you from getting hurt. His back hit the ground with a thud, and your eyes widened.

“Johnny!” Still on his chest, you looked up at him to see if he was okay. Sitting up, your right hand automatically cupped his jaw and the other lifted his head up from the ground. 

“I’m fine,” A small groan escaped his lips as he rolled over on his right side, facing your body. His face melted into your touch as his eyes fluttered open to see you. “Don't worry, cutie.” 

“Uh..” Your body temperature spiked, and you didn't know whether to blame it on chilly weather or Johnny calling you ‘cutie’. “L-let's go inside.”

“It is getting dark anyway,” With your right hand gripping his, you dragged him up to his feet. Johnny dusted the snow off from his pants and also dusted some off from the top of your head. The small contact made your heart flutter, and the feeling was taking over your mind. 

After eating with Johnny's family, it was time for you to get some rest before the wedding ceremony tomorrow. 

The maids guided you to an extravagant bathroom for you to wash up, and right after they pointed towards Johnny's room.

“Princess, you’ll be sleeping in Johnny's room tonight,” the maid said nonchalantly. 

“What?” You gasped, neck-snapping to face her. “W-we're not even married yet? Is that even okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, handing you a nightgown for you to change into. “You two will be married in less than twenty-four hours so…” 

“Goodnight, princess,” she winked at you before gently pushing you in the direction of his door. “Sleep well before your big day tomorrow.” 

As the maid left, leaving you stunned, you turned the doorknob to Johnny’s bedroom. Taking a step instead, you expected an empty bedroom but instead, you were greeted with Johnny in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“I’m sorry!” you squeaked, covering your eyes and slamming the door behind you. You never attempted to imagine Johnny without a shirt, but now that you’ve witnessed the sight, you can't seem to get it out of your mind. The water dripping from his hair onto his chest, the flex of his biceps, and the toned abs made you crazy. Before you knew it, a blush settled across your cheeks and the heat seemed to fog your thoughts. 

“___, I’m dressed,” Johnny calling your name broke you out of your trance. “You can come back in.”

You hummed in response, cracking open the door to see him with his arms crossed. 

“Also,” Johnny grabbed a pillow from the bed and placed it on the small couch beside him. “You can take the bed, and I’ll take the couch.” 

“Wait,” you said, looking at the couch and then at him. “You shouldn't have to, I can take the couch-”

“It's okay,” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow at you as he sat down. 

Your mouth opened to retort back, but seeing no point you smiled at him and went to go change into your nightgown. The satin nightgown slipped over your body, and you patted down any creases. 

When you opened the door, leaving his bathroom, you saw Johnny cramped onto the couch. His body was shifting, turning right and left to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Guilt surged inside of you as you watched him squeeze himself into an uncomfortable position to ensure that you weren't uncomfortable. 

“Johnny?” Heart swelling with love, you gently tapped on his shoulder, causing him to shudder in surprise. “Do you want to sleep beside me on the bed?” 

Johnny blinked a couple of times. “Huh?” 

You pointed towards his bed with your thumb. “Join me.”

“A-are you sure? Wouldn't y-you feel uncomfortable?” He sat up, looking up at you.

“No,” You shook your head, laughing at his innocent eyes. “We can put a little pillow barrier between us.”

With his eyes, Johnny silently asked if it was really okay, and you rolled your eyes at him. You grabbed his arms and dragged him to the bed before you slipped under the covers. Taking a cylinder-shaped pillow, you placed it between the two of you before smiling at him. “Goodnight, Johnny.” 

Johnny looked at you with sparkling eyes. “Goodnight, ___. Sleep well, cutie.” 

And with butterflies in your stomach, your eyes fluttered shut, and sleep took over. 

The morning sun beamed onto your face, causing you to grumble. Your eyes peered open, and it hit you that you were not in your usual room- you were in Johnny’s room. With widened eyes, you tried to move but an arm with a strong grip on your waist kept you from doing so. 

When you turned your head to the side, you were met with Johnny peacefully sleeping. His forehead rested on your shoulder, and his breathing was steady. His messy hair sprawled across the pillow, and the arm that was not tightened around you was underneath his head. 

This was a sight you could get used to every morning. 

Not knowing what suddenly urged you to do so, you placed a small kiss on the top of his head before trying to squeeze out his grip. You knew Johnny was strong, but you didn't expect him to be this strong. And there was no way you would be leaving the bed anytime soon. 

Sighing in defeat, you laid beside him, finger twirling a strand of his hair until he finally let out a small groan.

“Morning,” you smiled, watching his face contort in tiredness. 

“Morning, cutie,” he grumbled. His morning voice was even deeper and much raspier, causing your stomach to churn. “Can we just stay like this for a second?”

“Sure,” you laughed, continuing to play with his hair as he snuggled closer to you. “What happened to our pillow barrier though?”

“Don’t know and don't care,” he mumbled into your shoulder. His hot breath tickled your skin, inciting butterflies, once again. 

Before you could reply, a knock on your door interrupted the moment. “Prince. Princess. Ceremony in four hours!”

“Four hours?” you say in disbelief. “Get up, Johnny. We need to get ready.”

“But ____,” he whined, pulling you closer to him. 

You rolled your eyes and flicked him on the forehead. Your heart swelled at how clingy he was. “If we're late, it's your fault.”

“That's okay!” he sighed with content, eyes still closed but a smile formed on his lips. “As long as I have you, I’m good.”

You and Johnny barely made it in time to your own wedding. 

Scrambling, the maids quickly got both of you ready and pushed you out the front door and into a large room where all the people from Neo and Astoria gathered. On an elevated platform, your family and Johnny’s family both awaited your arrival. Although you and Johnny entered the room from opposite sides, both of you walked up the platform and sat on the large gold-adorned chairs in the front of the room. Everyone's eyes were on you two, but you and Johnny couldn't get your eyes off each other.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” Johnny smirked, looking you up and down. “Blue has always been and will always be such an elegant color on you.”

“Thank you, my Prince,” you replied, hiding any bashful expression that may have resulted from his comment. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

His smile grew wide, causing yours to match his. 

“Welcome to the marriage between ___ of Astoria and Johnny Suh of Neo,” your father announced, patting Johnny’s father on the back. “Through this marriage, both kingdoms will form a lifelong alliance, and I am pleased to say that I am very happy about this.” 

“We will start by exchanging rings,” Johnny's father said. With a snap of his fingers, two rings were brought and handed to both you and Johnny.

You put your hand out, and Johnny gently took it. His fingers wrapped around the diamond ring and, carefully, he slid it onto your ring finger. Before he let go, he placed a small kiss on your hand. 

With a big grin, you took his hand in yours, sliding on the ring as well. 

Everyone erupted in joy. You look over to your parents, only to see Mark, who gives you a smile along with an “I told you so” look on his face. He mouthed “congratulations” and you couldn’t help but want to give him a big hug. Your mother and Johnny's mother seemed to be holding back tears while both fathers were excitedly toasting their drinks. 

Happiness oozed out of every person, which in turn made you feel so happy that you felt as if your heart would burst any second.

“Snowball fight after this?” Johnny jokingly whispered amongst the beautiful chaos that filled the room. 

“We just got married and you’re thinking about having a snowball fight?” you replied, teasing him a bit to see his reaction. 

“Well we could do something else,” Johnny winked at you. 

You scoffed at his suggestive thoughts, lighting punching his bicep. “Hold up, buddy. You don't even know my favorite color!”

“Shit, you're right,” His eyes widened in realization before he whispered back. “What’s your favorite color?”

“White, my love,” you giggled.

“My love?” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I think I can get used to you calling me that.” 

“You should,” you retorted. “Also wanna listen to 'Christmas Lights’ after this?” 

“Not a snowball fight, but I’ll take it,” Johnny chuckled before looking straight into your eyes. “Besides, I can’t say no to Coldplay.” 

“And I definitely cannot say no to you, cutie.” 

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #neothestars #neowritingsnet #nct writers #nct fluff #nct angst #johnny seo #johnny suh #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh fanfic #johnny suh imagines #kpop nct #nct fic #kpop fluff #kpop fic #nct u scenarios #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 fic #johnny seo fluff #nct royal au #nct 127 royal au #nct johnny #johnny seo scenarios #nct drabbles

[creativia10]

Janus in Intrusive Thoughts

What if Janus was there during Intrusive Thoughts? Pairing: Janus x Remus

Word count: 1427

Warnings: Innuendos, Suggestive Themes

Notes: I don't know what this is. It was just fun. I had the urge to write this. Not to be taken too seriously. Also posted on my AO3. Let me know if I've missed anything.

Janus stretched his multiple limbs in the background. They were all distracted with dear Remus’ appearance, they didn’t even notice he was there. Which was perfectly fine with him. He was just there to watch the drama unfold anyways.

He lounged in a chair in the background, that he summoned, and sipped his wine. He didn’t have a particular desired outcome from this, despite having prompted Remus to reveal himself to Thomas (although he did have exasperatedly explain he did not mean to go in the nude). It was fun to be included in his little cameo in Remus’ song intro though. Every time he looked over to Roman on the ground, he couldn’t help but snort. Ah, sibling dynamics. So, Janus was literally just sitting there, commenting and reacting to Remus’ shenanigans, not even bothering to try and seem inconspicuous. They were literally too distracted to notice.

Then, he perked up when Logan mentioned the only way it would be faking it was if Thomas were to actually do something and then lie about it. Which prompted Remus to say,

“Oo, how fun. You know who could help us with that?” Remus said with a little shoulder wiggle. Janus’ theme song played during that. Janus rolled his eyes. Well, he didn’t need further prompting. As Thomas started to protest, Janus suddenly appeared next to Remus.

“Oh dear, if you wanted my company you simply needed to say so. ” Everyone balked. Thomas held his head and groaned. Virgil glared at him. Patton looked around in concern. Roman mumbled something, and Logan simply looked annoyed.

Remus gave him an unhinged smile. Janus pointedly did not look.

“You aren’t even part of this.” Virgil sneered. Janus simply shrugged.

“Oh I know, I’m just here. Not really going to participate unless needed.”

Virgil looked at him suspiciously. Remus clapped his hands excitedly.

"Oo, Dark side buddy! Now I have someone to actively innuendo while I’m here!”

Janus sighed, already starting to regret this, but not moving. Partly due to pride. They all seemed to just keep looking back and forth between Remus and Janus in surprise.

“What, no comment Dee-Dee?”

“When have I ever said you could call me that?”

“You haven’t said that I couldn’t!”

Janus simply hmmed and pretended to check his nails, as though he weren’t wearing gloves. Because he was just like that.

Patton hesitated,

“Uh…do we continue?”

Thomas sighed. Virgil kept darting his eyes between the dark duo and Thomas. Remus simply smiled and leaned his chin onto Janus shoulder, Janus pretended not to react. Remus wiggled a bit against him. Janus sighed. He was not blushing from everyone watching. If anyone were to ask, he would blame Remus. Blaming Remus was always a good plan. It didn’t hurt that Remus usually didn’t mind.

Thomas twisted up his face, seeming unsure how to react to the two of them, especially with how Remus was being with Janus.

They somehow tried to continue, as Thomas and Virgil had deigned this important to resolve. It was clear everyone else’s attention was divided though, at the atmosphere had drastically changed from the moment Janus appeared, despite him not doing anything for the current conflict.

“I’m sorry, this is very distracting. Can we get him out of here?” Virgil asked, gesturing at Deceit.

Janus rolled his eyes and waved his hand, obscuring his appearance.

The others blinked at his sudden seeming disappearance.

Remus snorted.

“Oh, Dee-Dee. That’s not gonna help. Don’t think I’ll stop touching you just cause they can’t see you anymore.” To which Remus wrapped his arms around Janus, looking like he was hugging air. He moved his hands lower, like he was about to imitate a physical innuendo, but Janus reappeared and pushed his arms away.

“That’sss unnecesssary.” Janus turned completely towards Remus as he said that so the others in the room wouldn’t see his returning blush. Remus simply smiled and laughed again.

Somehow, they jumped back into things. Patton barreled back into it as though to keep from another distraction to come about before they could help Thomas. Remus returned to his spot against Janus. He continued his shenanigans almost as though he wasn’t practically leaning on Janus. Janus was, more subtly reacting to the drama unfolding around him. Virgil pointedly glanced at Janus when he asked about if Thomas was lying, despite Janus not saying anything on the matter. Janus almost wasn’t sure why he wasn’t doing more. It totally wasn’t because of the distraction of Remus’ warm body pressed up against him. No, of course not at all.

Remus had definitely calmed down since Janus showed up as well. Even when Remus went through other transformations, he was still touching Janus in some way. It didn’t really make sense with what they were trying to do, but whatever. Janus knew fully well he could leave at any time. He was only there to watch this unfold, after all. Totally.

Janus pointedly sighed and stepped away, not looking as Remus started to undress before Logan clarified his wording, having known where Remus would go with that.

He hmmed when Remus revealed his name, tempted to say something about a lack of drama in withholding his name, if he hadn’t just witnessed all the crazy stuff Remus had been doing that episode, like an entire song intro that was so totally extra. Fitting for a creativity.

Janus sighed when Remus screamed to distract them as they got closer to a resolution. At one point, not long after, Remus leaned in, not even bothering to keep his lips from touching Janus’ ear as he whispered,

“Watch this.” Right before he disappeared, only to jump out before Logan could stop them with,

“Nails on a chalkboard!”

Janus didn’t jump and then snort. Nope. Things started to calm down eventually. Boring. As it seemed some of them were about to sink out, Janus prepared to as well.

“Well, that all certainly seemed exciting,” Janus started. Remus snorted.

“Oh, exciting?” Remus stepped over, to where Roman would have room to get up now. “You haven’t seen exciting yet. You know I could do more,” He said with another shoulder wiggle and suggestive eyebrows.

Janus waved a hand at that.

“Oh please, that’s unnecessary. You don’t want to draw this out too much, there’s a sense of good tension. Some creativities are good with that. So, I think I shall take my leave, it’s a good moment for it, before all the mushy stuff."

Remus pouted at him. “Aww, we didn’t even get to make out in front of everyone though! Voyeurism, you know?”

Janus suddenly sunk out at that, into his room. His face was burning as he glared at nothing, fists at his side. A few moments later,

“Oh Jaaaaanuus~”Janus sighed as he felt Remus sidle up to him again. He touched him way more this time, and Janus felt the weird slide of Remus’ tentacles against him as well, starting to prod and play with Janus’ clothes.

“Remus,” Janus said simply.

“Were you impressed~ with my introduction~?” Remus asked.“

In case you couldn’t tell, I don’t often say if I’m impressed by something,” Janus said. Remus growled and pushed himself even closer. Janus couldn’t withhold his shiver, sure the other was smirking.

“Aw, Jan~” He faux whined, then leaned in to say into his ear, “You know that whole thing got me really riled~ up.” He wiggled against Janus again. Janus feigned a sigh and smiled as he said,

“Like that really takes much.” He turned around and they both grinned at each other.

“You get on from mischief just as much as me,” Remus said.

“I will say nothing on the first part of that statement.”

“Mhmm.”

“Are you satisfied? Even though they think they beat you?”

“Oh, I don’t know about satisfied. I just found myself driven towards my snaky even more.”

Janus rolled his eyes again, but he was still smiling.

“You see me all the time.”

“Hm, so? Today was still fun, you must admit.”

“Hm perhaps. Even though they thought they ‘won’?”

“Eh,” Remus shrugged. “I was more for chaos, which still happened, so I don’t really care.” Remus grabbed Janus’ hand and dragged him toward the bed.

“But now I need to get this excitement out of my system, who better than with the chaotic side.”

“Chaotic? I don’t know if I can agree to that.”

“Mm, you’re more of a reserved chaos.”

“Hmm, I suppose.”

and with that Remus pushed Janus onto the bed, their strange banter continuing.

#ts Janus #ts remus #janus sanders #remus sanders #sanders side fic #sanders sides #fanfic #demus #dukeceit #romantic demus

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

The Better Shepherd

a/n: it takes a while to get to the duncan part, but i just wanted to add a little bit of a background story. hope you guys like it

summary: in which one shepherd is better than the others

pairing: duncan shepherd x (implied) fem!reader

warnings: trash talking Bill Shepherd, Duncan trying to hit on people at the bar, alcohol use, insinuations of smut, pre/post-smut(?)

word count: 2.3K

Entering the building, the bustling of everyone moving about filled your ears. People moved left and right, up and down, along the ceiling. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but for all you knew, they were. Phones were ringing one after another - it was chaotic really, but nothing you weren't used to, and nothing new for the person you were about to meet.

Upon getting closer to the door, someone stepped in front of you. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there." You sighed, withholding the urge to roll your eyes before looking up at the man in front of you. With a crisp, black suit on and hair slicked back, the man was much like all the other people in this building. Besides the women, although they did dress professionally as well.

"He knows I'm here." You tried to move past him, but he sidestepped you, blocking your path again. You let out a sigh, crossing your arms over your chest, "Look, sir. I understand you're just doing your job, but I can assure you-"

He cut you off, and you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your cool. "Ma'am, as I said before, I cannot let you enter-"

He, too, was cut off, but not by you. "Micheem, are you holding up my guest?" The man, who you assumed was Micheem, glanced back and bowed his head, "I apologize, sir. I didn't realize you were expecting her."

"It's fine," you said as the man turned back to you. You didn't bother trying to hold your growing smirk, "Next time, you know. I don't need permission from you or anyone else in this building."

He nodded and stepped to the side, allowing you to move forward. You linked your arm with the man you were meeting with, "Frank."

He smiled at you before gesturing to the office door, "Y/N. Shall we go in?" You nodded curtly as the two of you walked into his office. Once he shut the door behind you, you turned to Frank, acknowledging him with a proper greeting.

"I've missed you, old man," you said, pulling him in for a hug. He laughed heartily, "I can't say the same goes for you." You scoffed, holding a hand to your chest in feign offense, "And here, I thought you actually cared about me. But wait, I forgot Francis J. Underwood doesn't care about anyone but himself."

He cut his eyes at you before sitting down on the couch. You sat down across from him and slipped your heels off, a relieved sigh leaving your mouth as you got comfortable.

"What can I do for you?" Frank asked, watching you in amusement. It never failed to crack him up at how carefree you were, and no, it wasn't because of your age. It was because you weren't concerned with following the norm but always played by the rules. Well, sometimes.

"So, as you know, I've been working on my project for about 18 months now, and I'm ready to put it into action." You massaged your feet as you spoke, awaiting Frank's response.

Frank Underwood was an interesting man. No one ever knew what he was thinking or feeling, and if they did, they were wrong. Few people understood him, and you were a part of those few.

"Well," he said, leaning back in his chair, his thick Southern accent on display, "I think it's about time. Now, for your sponsors. Who did you have in mind?"

"The Shepherds." He raised a brow, standing up and walking over to the window. You watched with bated breath. If there was one person in the entire world that you completely trusted, it was Frank. You highly respected his opinions and thoughts, which you couldn't say the same about his wife. But that's a story for another time.

"I'll set up an appointment for you." He finally said, easing your nerves. He turned to you, light brown eyes twinkling with mischief. "Then, we'll figure out a plan."

That conversation was months, if not almost a year, ago, and a lot had happened since then. The one person whom you truly cared about was gone. Gone - one moment he was there, the next he wasn't.

But, as Frank had told you one time, "people leave, you grieve, and then move on." He left, and you were still grieving. Of course, you were. But you seemed to be the only person who cared. Not even his wife, sweet, sweet Claire, seemed to care. For her, it was only a leg up, another step on the political ladder, full of sex, lies, and murder.

Speaking of Claire, you were sitting across from her. Her cold, calculating light blue eyes were boring into yours. You stared back with the same intensity. If there was one thing you knew about the woman sitting in front of you was that she didn't back down. However, it was the same for you.

"You know," she spoke, voice ringing through the stillness of the room. "Francis always trusted you. He didn't trust many people, but you..." her eyes twinkled just as Frank's had that day, "He trusted you completely."

"Those feelings were mutual." You leaned back against the plush cushions of the couch, crossing your left leg over your right. You weren't trying to assert your dominance; but, you wanted Claire to know that you were serious, serious about this plan and what Frank and you had worked on together.

"I'm glad." Claire paused, taking a sip of her coffee before continuing, "I heard you were to partner with the Shepherds?" Her question wasn't so much of one, more so that of a statement. She knew you were, but she wanted clarification. Smart.

"Yes. I think both the I and the Shepherds would benefit from this partnership." While Frank had set up a meeting for you, a shift in plans had canceled it. And, unfortunately, you weren't able to meet with them.

"Well, I hear that they're going to be at the Radisson Hotel tomorrow evening. A few drinks with them, and I'm sure they'd be more than happy to hear you out."

If there was one thing you like about Claire, even though her, shall you say irritating, attributes, it was that she seemed to at least care for you. Whether that was fake or because of Frank, or which you doubted, genuine, you didn't know. What you did know, however, was that she was presenting you with an opportunity. And you'd be a fool for not taking it.

There was a gathering at the hotel. That much you could see as you got out of your taxi. Cars upon cars were outside, and you knew that finding Annette would be trickier than you thought.

Smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in your clothes, you released a sigh before making your way into the hotel. The lobby was packed with people, mostly politicians. It was a bit overwhelming, so you made your way to the bar.

The bar was the most convenient place - you could scan the lobby with ease without having to move through the jungle of people. You tapped your fingers on the marble counter, another sigh leaving you.

For as long as you'd been there, you thought you would have seen Annette or Bill. Or any of their staff. But to your luck, you saw none. You were never one to give up; anyone who knew you knew that fact, but you were starting to believe Annette wasn't there at all.

The thought of Claire setting you up for failure crossed your mind before you pushed it aside. While the 'C' in Claire stood for conniving, cold, cruel (among others) - you didn't think she would stoop this low.

A drink slid your way snapped you away from your thoughts. You looked up to the bartender with a raise of your eyebrow. He shrugged, slinging his rag over his shoulder before nodding over to the left of you.

You turned your head and met a pair of blue eyes. The man raised his glass to you before taking a sip, all while keeping eye contact with you.

Ignoring him, you continued looking around the crowd of people but, to no avail, saw neither of the Shepherds you needed. Just when you were about to give up and call it a night, someone slid into the seat next to you.

"I'm assuming you don't drink."

Still facing away, eyes mindlessly tracking each new face that popped up, you replied with a simple, "I don't drink when I'm working."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the person tilt their head, their middle finger circling the rim of their cup in an almost hypnotizing manner. "You don't look like you're working. Unless," you finally turned to look at them, "you're a reporter - blending in, watching everyone?"

"Not a reporter, but I am working - well, I was. Someone interrupted me." The man shook his head, a slightly muffled laugh coming from behind the glass covering his mouth.

The chances of Annette, or Bill for that matter, being at the Raddison were slim to none. And what better way to make up for wasted time than by indulging in someone's game.

"Oh, was that someone me? If so, you should know," He leaned forward, brown hair staying in place, as he whispered the last part, "I'm not sorry at all."

"I can see," you grabbed the untouched cup of alcohol and took a sip. Whiskey, you thought as you angled your body to face the brunette. Not your usual choice, but hey, it would do for now.

"I'm Dun-"

"Duncan Shepherd," you finished, causing him to raise an eyebrow as he set his cup on the marble counter.

"You know who I am." He seemed almost deflated at your admission, and you were curious as to why.

You nodded, smirking at the slightly surprised look on his face, "Of course, I do. Everyone knows the Shepherds to some degree."

He nodded slowly as if your words were just now registering to him. A smirk crossed his features, which you could easily see was a defense mechanism - but for what?

"You said you were working. What are - excuse me - were you working on?"

"I was actually looking for your mother," he seemed to perk up at that. "A... let's just say - a friend of mine told me that the Shepherds would be here tonight, but, so far, the only Shepherd I see is you."

He squinted at you with a slight tilt of his head. He does that a lot, you noted. Knowing his mannerisms when particular topics were at hand could be beneficial if you were to work with his family.

"Which Shepherd were you looking for then?" Before you could answer, he was quick to ask, "Wait, let me guess - Bill?"

He watched as your face scrunched up a bit before you laughing lightly through your nose. "God, no. No offense-"

"No, no. Please, use as much offense as you want." Duncan was quick to correct you, leaving you shaking your head while laughing.

"Well, with as much offense, your uncle is a bit of, shall I say, dick?" Duncan nodded at your statement, prodding you to continue. "I mean, he's probably one of the most conceited people I've ever met, and believe me - I've met a lot."

"Yeah, my uncle is a work of art, isn't he? I have to say - I'm glad he wasn't your first choice."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"I have my reasons. Now, since you've declared your loathing for my dear uncle," he smirked at the laugh you tried to hide, "I assume you were looking for my mother."

"I was. I had plans to meet with your mother months ago, but we never got around to it." That was the partial truth.

He nodded, turning his body even more so that your knees were brushing up against the others'. Leaning forward, he rested his face on his hand, "What do you know? Neither she nor my uncle is here. What a shame..."

He released a leering sigh before a coy smirk took over, "But would you look at that. I'm here. I guess your friend was right."

"Something tells me you're happy about that," you mused, tilting your head ever so slightly.

You received a half attempted shrug in response, "How about I show you just how happy I am about that?"

"So," he flopped onto the bed next to you, heavy pants falling from his lips, "what do you say? Do you want to take a walk on the dark side, work with the better Shepherd?"

You tilted your head to the ceiling, a loud sigh leaving in between your own panting. In all honesty, you had no problem working with Duncan. If anything, you preferred him over anyone else. And it wasn't just because of what had transpired only minutes before - but because you felt you could trust him and that both of you would achieve many things together.

Now, back to the reason you sighed - you wanted to see his reaction. How would he react? Would he give up? You couldn't have yourself working with someone who gave up at the slightest inconvenience.

"If you need more persuasion," He paused, adjusting his body so that he was hovering above you, blue eyes trailing over your face. "I'll be more than happy to provide you with it."

You laughed a little, directing your gaze back to him, "Although that offer sounds very intriguing, I think I'll pass." You sat up, swinging your feet off the side of the bed. Walking to the bathroom, you turned to see his smirk had fallen.

Before entering the bathroom, you looked at him with a smirk of your own. "How about we discuss how we're going to be working together, instead? Then, you could persuade me more."

Ah, the perks of working with the "better" Shepherd.

tags (if you would like to be added/removed, let me know): @kitty4860

#my first time posting for Duncan #not sure how I feel about this #but guess who’s posting it anyway #chaos-is-beautifvl #chaos.writes 🖋 #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan sheperd imagine #duncan shepherd x you #duncan shepherd x female reader #cody fern #cody fern imagine #cody fern x reader #duncan shepherd imagines #cody fern x you #house of cards #house of cards x reader #hoc #hoc x reader

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟔 (𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓.): 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧  /  ALAM PALACE, YAAS, 1926

❧  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

The cooking proceeds in relative quiet. Rowena and Zuriñe stand alongside each other absorbing the other’s presence with unspeaking appraisal. Zuriñe notes her posture, her dainty fingers, her hair’s fragrance, even the faint yellowed bruise disappearing from her neck. Rowena, meanwhile, subtly mirror the queen’s body language with an unfailing smile. It is only when the soup finishes and their bowls are full that they tiptoe into a true conversation.

Zuriñe ascertains in a few words that Alfonso has told her nearly everything he should. Unable to stop herself, she blurts out, “I cannot imagine, or maybe I can.” She asks, or demands to know, “Are you not overwhelmed?”

‘What kind of liar might she be?’ she wonders, watching as Rowena chews her lip and grips the table’s edge.

Finally, Rowena exclaims, “Supremely!”

The queen stares at her, hard yet inquisitive.

“But, I have this unshakeable sense that it’s all worth it.” Rowena pushes herself forward, struggling to articulate what has felt utterly indescribable. Clarifying for herself rather than Zuriñe, she amends, “Rather, that Alfonso is worth it—that he thinks the same of me.”

Zuriñe’s expression doesn’t change. Internally, however, she latches onto those words and suppresses the desire to scream—this, a primordial urge to express, in the most guttural way, ‘I am wounded.’ So many found Alfonso difficult to read; it was easier for the masses to hold up his honorable attributes and flatten his personhood into Our Good Prince. Zuriñe knew him better than this, better than anyone. She could confirm it for Rowena and explain just what he obviously believed her worth to be.

Instead, she blinks slowly as Rowena ventures to ask with hesitant words, “May I ask … ? Did you feel that way? Do you still?”

‘Fernando is the love of my life,’ Zuriñe imagines herself admitting. ‘I have died for him. I have killed for him. I would, I will, again.’

“I bonded with Constanza because we were both born to be queen,” she answers instead. “That Fernando and I would marry was beyond our control. Though, I dare say the same may be said for you.” She pauses, holding Rowena’s wide-eyed gaze. “In any case, I understand. The rush, the weight of it all, the budding feelings inexplicably stronger than they should be...”

Zuriñe does not believe herself to be a romantic. Nonetheless, she continues with a certain unrestrained emotionality in her voice, “Still, it will break you.”

Now, Rowena blinks. Her hand flexes, wishing to pick up a spoon or glass to hide her expression from the queen’s piercing stare. Mercifully, however, Zuriñe looks away as she readjusts herself.

“That is the only guarantee,” she sighs. “Even as you are breaking, you must carry so much. You must build yourself anew.” In a sense, Zuriñe sees nothing of herself in Rowena. This conversation births empathy regardless, even before Rowena steels herself to ask with purpose:

“How does one deal with that?”

Again, Zuriñe sighs. She closes her eyes, smelling the scent of spice still clinging to her skin, thinking once again of business. Teresa had arrived with a summons, after all. “Imperfectly,” she offers.

She cannot resist the urge to plainly tell the truth which she believes Rowena deserves. “This is the dilemma in which I find myself. As a mother, I know my son deserves joy, and you are a godsend. As a queen, I am compelled to enact violence: to withhold my blessing.”

Rowena says nothing, and the statement sinks between them until, at last, Zuriñe lifts her gaze. She reaches across the table and clasps Rowena’s hand. In doing so, she finds her palm warm and moist. With a gentle smile, such as she might have summoned for any one of her children, she concludes, “We shall see which force wins. Fortuity, will, providence... We each contest a thousand destinies, after all—even you.”

#ts4 story #ts4 legacy #ts4 royalty #ts4 historical #sims 4 story #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 royalty #sims 4 historical #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 royal family #royal sims #sims 4 history #sims 4 royal story #sims 4 royal legacy #reyes.story.post

[thatpanbastard]

Rescue on Ryloth

Warnings: bad batch episode 11 and maybe 12 major character injury angst hurt/comfort

“Chopper what are we gonna do?” Hera whispered. The astromech chirped in response.” I can’t just leave them Chop.”

“Miss Syndulla.” Hera whipped around her hand closing around a small knife. Captain Howzer put his hands up in surrender.” I’m here in peace.”

“You arrested me; And my parents I don’t believe you.”

“I was wrong. The Empire has been lying. Hera please listen to me. I can help you rescue your parents but I need help to do it.”

“Give me your blaster. No funny business.”

Howzer handed over his blaster and clipped his helmet onto his belt. Hera let him into the speeder.

“Any idea on who can help us?”

“Maybe.”

—

“Dark and broody come here I’ve got another job for you.” Cid barked

Hunter handed the sleeping Omega to Echo. Cid tapped her fingers impatiently as he walked across the bar.

“The insurgents on Ryloth have run into a spot of trouble. Cham and Eleni Syndulla have been captured by the Empire. Senator Taa has been executed.”

“How do you know this?” Hunter frowned deeply. Cids been withholding more and more information.

“I got a call. That’s all you need to know. There daughter is willing to pay a lot for our help so get a move on.”

Hunter pivoted on his heel and put on his helmet. The rest of the batch was standing outside the door all geared up.

“Where are we headed Sarge?” Wrecker grinned.

“We’re headed back to Ryloth.”

“Did they order more weapons?” Omega took his hand.

“Not exactly.”

—

The batch stepped of there ship and we’re greeted by Hera; Captain Howzer was not far behind his hand bound. Hunter stared at the clone Captain before whipping out his blaster leveling it at his scarred face. Hera stepped infront of the barrel stress lining her young features.

“He’s with me.” She reassured.

“Does he still have his inhibitor chip?”

“My what?”

“He won’t know about it.” Echo put his hand on Hunters blaster.” Are you armed?”

“No sir.”

“You’re the pilot kid.” Omega popped out from behind Wrecker a grin spreading across her face.

“My name is Hera.”

“I’m Omega and we’re here to help.”

—

“Syndulla honestly you should have known better.” Crosshair drawled. Eleni stared down the lithe clone her lip curled in disgust.

“You think you can take our daughter and we’d do nothing. You’re nothing more then Admiral Ramparts pet.” She spat. Crosshair glared at her.” A pawn like Senator Taa. Maybe Rampart will dispose of you the same way. Wouldn’t that be ironic.”

“Funny I was going to say the same about you and your family.” Eleni slammed her hand into the ray shield right in front of his face. Crosshair stifled a flinch.

“You better hope that doesn’t happen.”

Crosshair laughed slightly and walked off.

—

“That’s where they’d be held.” Howzer pointed at the high security prison sector.” The refinery is a cover.”

“We know we’ve encountered them atleast twice.” Echo was running low on patiences at the moment.

“We’ll get your parents out.” Omega beamed her fingers curling around her bow.

“Wrecker you’re with Howzer and Hera Tech Echo Omega you’re with me. We’ll attack in two waves. One a diversion the others will get the Syndullas and the rest of the freedom fighters out. Understood.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Wrecker your group is focusing on the prisoners. We’re going to cause some mayhem.” Hunter grinned slightly.

“Save some trouble for me Sarge. Be safe kid.” Wrecker held out his fist to Omega who bumped it with a grin.

—

Howzer set the pace -his hands still bound- with Hera not far behind panting slightly Chopper by her side. Wrecker bringing up the rear had his eyes out for Imperials.

“You alright kid?”She nodded.” How much farther Captain.”

“Not far. They should be holding the freedom fighters and the General down this hall.” Howzer turned into one of the rows of prisoners.

“Captain Howzer.” Chams Syndullas voice was garbled slightly by the ray shield.

“Father.” Hera laughed.” We’re here to rescue you.”

“Ksa’a?” Hera turned and smiled at Eleni. Howzer began opening cells.

“General I’m so sorry. I was wrong. I don’t know how you can forgive me”

“You’ve kept Hera safe I can forgive you for now.”

“It seems like our distraction is working but I think we should go.” Wrecker interrupted.

“Lead the way Howzer.” Cham smiled pulling his wife close.

“Of course sir.”

—

“Admiral Rampart clone force 99 is here. They’ve freed the Syndullas and it seems they’ve taken Captain Howzer captive. Shall I take my squad after them?” Crosshair fiddled with the toothpick in his hand standing stiffly at attention.

“Not yet make them think they’ve made it. Set up your squadron in the courtyard. I want their heads.”

—

“Mrs. Syndulla, General Syndulla Lieutenant Glie Cid sent us.” Hunter explained as the two teams met hardly 15 feet from the exit.

“I appreciate the rescue Sergeant.” Eleni but in before Cham or Gobi could get a word in.

“That’s what we do ma’am.” Wrecker puffed out his chest slightly.

“Let’s get moving before they realize you’re gone.”

Howzer looked up and darted infront of Hera. A single shot rang through the silent courtyard.

“Howzer.” The Captain dropped with an agonized cry. A smoking hole in his leg.

Hera and Omega were both pushed behind the closet adult.

Only one person could’ve made a shot like that. Crosshair was here.

“Get them out of here I’m going after Crosshair.” Hunter snapped.

“Let’s get moving sir.” Echo urged. Wrecker pulled Howzer up slinging the injured man over his shoulders.

“Clones have defended Ryloth for far to long. Take Hera out of here. Your Sergeant is going to need help.” Eleni took Howzers blaster from Hera. Cham took one of Wreckers many weapons. Echo faltered.

“I’ll keep them out of too much trouble.” Tech assured.” Get the ik’aads out of here.”

“I’m not so little Tech. Be careful.”

“Always am ad’ika now go.”

—

The rest of Crosshairs special forces stepped out of the shadows of the courtyard. The later walked out a slight limp in his step that wasn’t there on Bracca.

“What a shame Sergeant I thought you would’ve learned.” Crosshair jeered.

“Don’t make me do this Crosshair” Hunter pleaded with his littlest brother.” This isn’t you.”

“Isn’t it?” He laughed.” Look what you did to me Ori’vod.” Crosshair spat the last word like a curse pulling off his helmet.

Omega let out an audible gasp. Hunter faltered. They all stared at the deep healing burns on the side of Crosshairs head.

“Cross-“

“Open fire.” He barked pulling the helmet back on. Tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

—

“You two stay here and stay down.” Echo snapped. Wrecker lowered Howzer to the ground and handed Hera a blaster he left another by Howzer.

The two of them open fired on the imperials joining the 5 others in the fire fight.

Hera watched Omega curiously. The younger girl having now reaction to the near deafening blaster fire. She recognized the similarity to her own reactions to the noise after being around it for so long.

“Keep an eye out.” Omega snapped her bow ready for any Imperials headed their way. Howzer struggled to his feet.” You shouldn’t be up yet. You’re hurt.”

“I’ve got a job to do kid.” Howzer picked up the blaster he was given.

—

Hunter snuck up behind Crosshair the former to busy with Gobi to notice his Ori’vod behind him.

He lined up his shot and fired. He hit a target just not the one he was aiming for.

—

Chams scream rang out through the court yard as Eleni crumpled like a puppet who’s strings had been cut. A smoking blaster wound right through her heart.

Hera scrambled from cover sobbingand screaming for her mother. Howzer wrapped his arm around her smaller frame pulling her back. Omega stared horrified at the body and her friend.

Hunter stunned Crosshair taking down his unprepared brother with ease. Guilt gnawed at him as he watched Cham scramble for his fallen wife. He pulled Crosshair over his shoulder. They would be over run shortly.

“Cham we have to go.” Gobi wrapped his hand around his friends shoulder. Wrecker pulled the limp form of Eleni into his arms as Cham stumbled to his feet. They raced for cover as the Imperials poured into the courtyard.

Tech rolled a bunch of smoke bombs behind them covering their escape. The group was silent except for Heras stifled sobs.

—

The remaining two Syndullas hadn’t spoken since they boarded the Maurader. Cham stared blankly at the white sheet covering Elemis body. He held her limp hand hoping and praying she would move.

“General.” Howzer interrupted the silence.” I’m sorry sir.”

Cham nodded slightly not tearing his eyes off of Eleni. Silent tears streaked down his face. Howzer held his shoulder in a silent support.

—

Hera sobbed openly into Wreckers cuirass. Gobi stared at his feet guilt coursing through him. That bolt was meant for him. He should be lying on that bunk not her.

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la” Echo looked tiredly at the white sheet.

“Not gone merely marching far away.” Tech translated. The ship lurched as it exited hyperspace.

“Rex is waiting for us on the surface Captain. He’ll be able to get your chip out. He’s arranged a shuttle for you four General to get you to a safe house until calms down some.” Hunter explained. He frowned slightly as he watched Cham

“Thank you Sergeant.”

“General could we have a word.”

“I’d rather stay here.”

“Sir please I think it’s important.” Hunters eyes flashed to where Wrecker was sitting Hera sleeping restlessly against his armor.

“Alright.”

—

“I mean no disrespect sir you’ve just went through an unspeakable tragedy but your daughter needs you.”

“She doesn’t need me. She needs her mother.” Cham scoffed.

“If I may sir she idolizes you.” Hunter placed a hand on his shoulder.” Don’t push her away. Don’t loose her too.”

—

Rex watched as the Maurader opened. The Silver Angel was sitting off at the side. He felt a pang of grief as he watched Eleni Syndullas body get unloaded off the ship. He’s never met her personally but she was a kind women.

He offered Cham and his daughter a small smile. Rafa and Trace took them in with open arms.

“I’ll meet you guys at the rendezvous point.” Rex smiled at Trace.

“We’ll see you later Cap.” She beamed.

“Rex I can’t thank you enough for this.” Hunter pulled him into a hug.

“Of course. You said you had two people with you who needed a chip removed. Does Omega have one as well?”

“No a reg Captain we rescued on Ryloth.” Rex pulled back from Hunter his heart caught in his throat as he watched Howzer and Echo step out of the Maurader.

“Rex?” Howzer frowned slightly before he let out a loud laugh.” You son of a Sith you made it.”

“Vod’ika?”

“Shove off vod we’re the same age.” Rex took Howzers arm and dropped it over his shoulder.

“Let’s get your chip out.”

—

Authors note I’m working on a fluffier part two with the batch and the Rex Howzer au love yall

#star wars #swtcw #bad batch #eleni syndulla #cham syndulla #hera syndulla #major character injury #major character death #spoiler warning #bad batch echo #arc trooper echo #tech bad batch #crosshair bad batch #wrecker bad batch #hunter bad batch #omega bad batch #tbb howzer #the bad batch howzer #clone trooper howzer

[resonating-kitty]

I like the idea that in the past, c!Philza was a uncaring, sadistic, violent prone angelic being.

So I wrote something.

-

Philza stood on the rise that overlooked the little makeshift campsite of their opponents. Rather he overlooked where it used to be. It was gone now, engulfed fully in a raging inferno and rose high into the night sky. An inferno ignited by his own hand no less.

Their mission had been to cripple the enemy. They done that. He had sent his crows to steal their rations and destroy their clothes while Techno went in closer, nicking their swords and bows and setting their horses free.

It had been a success. The idiots didn't even move from their cots and the guards posted watch were too lax, not paying attention. It was almost boring. So, while Techno disappeared into the night to contact their employer, Philza figured, why just cripple them? They could take care of the problem now.

The crows told him of the stash of lantern oil in one of the many covered wagons on the outskirts of the camp. It was easy to get to and easier to disperse throughout the camp. Then all it took was one strike of a flint and steel.

"Gods, Philza"

Philza turned from the blaze, his front encased in shadows and the only thing visible was the faint blue glow of his eyes. His eyes met Techno's as the other approached. He said nothing as Techno's stopped beside him, his red eyes raking across the chaos that burned below. His friend did not seem upset though, rather he wore a look of amusement.

"You couldn't let me have a least a bit of fun?" Techno asked with a smirk.

Philza laughed quietly, his gaze flickering down to the mess below. There were a few bodies moved frantically around the flames, most those that were on guard, and muffled shouts for 'water' rose up.

"Sorry mate," He apologized, shrugging, offering, "You can have the stragglers if you want?"

Techno clicked his tongue, his gaze sweeping the clearing. Thinking.

"Nah," he said eventually, bored. He turned away, "Wouldn't be much fun."

Philza laughed again, following behind his friend, "Then shall we go deliver the good news to our wonderful employer?"

"Don't know if he'll find the news good," Techno muttered as he approached his horse and swung up into the saddle.

"Whatever do you mean?" Phil asked, his wings spreading wide, preparing for flight.

"Guys son was in that camp. Apparently he was the leader of the rebel forces. The employer only just told me that when I contacted him and apparently he wanted his son captured alive." Techno informed and he gently urged his horse into a walk.

Philza took off and hovering in the air above Techno. A group of crows soundlessly rose up from the surrounding trees and climbed high into the sky. Philza laughed, "Well that was certainly a detail he should've told us before hand."

"No kidding." Techno agreed, "He's not gonna be happy with us when we tell him his son died." Then said in a mockingly distressed voice laced with humor, "He might even withhold payment Phil!"

"I'd like to see him try," Phil said, his eyes shining with promise.

"You got the son. I got dibs on the father."

"He's all yours mate."

With a laugh, the Blood God urged his steed faster and the Angel of Death angled his wings to soar higher.

#philza #zablr #kitty writes #philza sets fire to a camp of enemies basically #i don't even know how to tw that #tw implications to murder #tw death #technoblade #techno's also there and he's not about to stop a man from committing arson and mass murder #bladeblr #can I put my fics in bladeblr? i should've asked first #someone yell at me if no