#and later when they go home Legend also thinks it’s blood and faints

[skyward-floored]

Please oh please some Four and Wind hanging out or doing hero stuff? <3

How about both? (Set when they’re both a little older, early teens-ish)

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“Why is this guy robbing a fast food place? Why does everyone rob fast food places?” Wind huffed, face annoyed as he peered up over his seat at the guy pointing a gun at the cashier. “Wouldn’t a bank be better? These places can’t have that much money. The cashier just looks like he’s about to faint, that guy will be lucky if he gets anything. Sheesh. All I wanted was a burger...”

“Wind shh, I’m trying to think of a plan,” Four hissed, pulling him back behind the seat. “Get down here.”

Wind ducked under the table where Four was sheltering, avoiding a sticky puddle of dried soda as he scooted in next to him. They could still hear the robber at the counter talking, and Wind glared as a pair of boots wandered past their table.

One guy they could have just handled, but the robber had brought two others, and neither Wind or Four wanted to see how itchy his trigger finger was. Wind was pretty sure they were just some low-rate kind of criminals, but his Dad always reminded them not to underestimate people.

So he’d let Four make a plan. Even if he would’ve just jumped out there and made something up on the spot.

“Okay, whatcha got?” Wind whispered, and Four motioned to the abandoned fries he’d set up on the ground.

“Okay, so this fry is you, and this one is me. I was figuring we’d do that thing we did when—”

“I’m not that short,” Wind interrupted, and swapped the fry with one that was much longer. “There. Continue.”

Four rolled his eyes. “Right. So we don’t have space to change into our suits, so we can’t just charge out there, but if you go out and— Wind don’t eat that.”

Wind was eating the new fry he’d designated as himself. “What, this one wasn’t even fuzzy! And I’m hungry, they haven’t filled our order yet.”

Four swiped the probably months-old fry from his brother, then shook his head in exasperation.

“Wind focus. Look, just do that thing we did when we stopped that one mall robbery,” he said, and Wind perked up.

“Right, gotcha! I distract, you go thwack,” he said with a grin, and Four gave him a flat look.

“That doesn’t make any more sense then it did the first time you said it.”

“Well I like it.”

Four shook his head, then motioned Wind out, giving his arm a quick squeeze before he went. Be careful.

Wind squeezed back. I will.

Then he slipped out from under the table, quickly squishing a bunch of ketchup packets into his hand. The handful of other people in the restaurant watched him nervously, and Wind winked at a frightened-looking girl.

Then he squished the ketchup over his eye.

She giggled, and Wind turned to the counter, then let out a blood-curdling yell, collapsing dramatically to a knee.

All three robbers turned, their eyes going wide behind their masks when they saw the ‘blood’ all over his face, and Wind forcibly held back a grin.

“My eye!” he wailed, squishing another ketchup pouch in his hand. “I can’t see, I can’t see! It hurts!”

“Oh my gods, what happened?” one of the robbers whispered in a horrified voice, and no one noticed Four slip out of his booth and slowly work his way around to the counter.

Wind for once was glad for his baby-face as he began to cry, faking a coughing fit into his hand. He made sure that the ketchup in his hand was visible as he finished coughing, and one of the robbers made a gagging noise.

“I want my mom!” he wailed, and the three of them continued to stare in horror at him, looking unsure of what to do.

Four meanwhile, edged behind the counter, ducking beside the cowering cashier, who was almost certainly not being paid enough for this. He put a finger to his lips, then cautiously looked over the counter at where the robbers stood.

“Look, kid, calm down, I’m sure your mom is here somewhere,” one of the robbers finally said, sounding panicked as he looked at Wind. “I’m sure she can help you with your uh... eye.”

His face turned a little green from behind his mask, but it was then that the robber with the gun stepped a little closer, beginning to look suspicious.

“Wait a second. Guys, does that blood seem a little—”

Four cut him off by jumping up onto the counter, and then onto his back.

He quickly knocked the gun from his hand, and the man stumbled, obviously not expecting the weight of a teenager. He fell to the ground with a yelp, and Wind ran forward and kicked the legs out from under one of the robbers, surreptitiously using his winds to throw the other one to the floor.

He quickly grabbed their weapons as well, and Four gave him a fist bump as he hopped off the back of the one, the crooks all looking dazed at their sudden takedown.

“Nice going,” Wind said, and Four smiled back.

“You too.”

The cashier peeked over the counter from where he’d taken shelter, and visibly relaxed at the sight of the crooks on the ground. The other customers came out of hiding, and a few cheers went up from the small crowd, Wind rubbing his eye as he waved at them.

“...you good?” Four asked Wind, and Wind nodded, wincing as he blinked his eye a few times.

“Yeah. I just got ketchup in my eye. It stings too, what do they put in this stuff?!”

“Tomatoes. Which are acidic,” Four said with a little grin, and Wind sighed as people began to thank them, the restaurant manager looking especially relieved.

“Great. And I think I lost my appetite for burgers,” he grumbled, and Four chuckled as the manager walked up to them.

“I can’t thank you two enough, you’ve done quite a service for us here,” she smiled. “It’s not much, but can I offer you anything on the menu? It’s on the house.”

Wind quit his complaining instantly, and gave her a wide smile. “You know what? I was just thinking a burger would be delicious.”

Four hid his laugh, and he and Wind spent the rest of the afternoon eating way too many French fries.

#answers from the floor #lovely ixtaek #incredibles au #Incredibles au fic #lu wind #lu four #writing from the floor #they’re so silly goofy #would the ketchup thing actually work? probably not #but it was funny #and later when they go home Legend also thinks it’s blood and faints

[fanfic-she-wrote]

The Resurrection of Dracula:Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: Death, gore

Long chapter

When he woke up he found himself on the floor of the crypt. He went to sit up but became incredibly dizzy and lightheaded. He moaned, rubbing his neck. Never had he felt such pain in his whole life. Slowly the memory of what had happened came back to him. How terrified he felt as the woman plunged her sharp fangs into his neck. How weak he became as she drained his life force from his body.

"You're not Lawrence." A voice said from behind him making him jump. He quickly turned around and saw you sitting there on the edge of your coffin, arms folded with fresh blood dripping from your lips. His blood. He suddenly felt nauseous. "You look like him though." You said, eyeing him curiously. He looked considerably younger than last you saw him and his clothes were very strange. "Who are you?" You asked.

"I'm C-Charlie...Van Helsing." He stuttered, backing away.

"Are you his son?"

"No. I'm his descendant." Charlie replied backing right into a wall.

"What year is this?" You questioned, dreading the answer.

"2000." He answered.

"2000!" You bellowed, your voice echoing throughout the tomb. Charlie covered his head, cowering in fear.

"I have been trapped in a coffin for almost 130 years..." Your voice faltered. You couldn't believe how much time had passed. Your mind was racing. Instantly you thought of your husband, Dracula? Where was he now? Was he still alive?

You looked down upon the young man, curled up on the floor before you. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you." You told him in a soothing voice. You could still see the fear in his eyes. It made you feel a twinge of regret as you helped him to his feet.

"I'm sorry. It's just I haven't fed in so long and I thought you were someone else." You apologized, holding the poor man steady.

"Tell me, have you heard anything about my husband?" You ask, hoping with every fiber of your being that he was alive and well.

"Who?"

"Count Dracula." You answer. His eyes widened looking even more fearful than before.

"Dracula?!" He's real too! He couldn't believe that all this was happening. That the legend was not a legend after all, it was true. Every word. Why did it have to be true?

"Charles?" You say, trying to get his attention.

"I don't know." He finally uttered. He pulled away from you and picked up his bag, pulling out a yellow book, and handing it to you. "All I know about him is from this and Lawrence Van Helsing's journal...I can get that for you if you want?" He told you nervously. You held the book in your hands, staring down at the title.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. But for now I'll have to wait. I feel the dawn is near. Charles, can you help me? I need someone to guard my coffin while I sleep." You ask, your eyes pleading. "I don't know what you've read, but I can assure you that I mean you no harm." You assured him. "I owe you my life. If not for you, who knows how much longer I would have been trapped in there..." You shuddered at the thought. He slowly began to calm down. He recalled Lawrence's journal and how he wrote about you. If you were anything like he said than perhaps he could trust you. "I just want to find my husband."

"Why? He's a monster." Charlie asked, instantly regretting that he had. Your eyes flashed red with fury. The impertinence! How dare he call your beloved a monster.

"He is not!" You growled. Charlie flinched, dropping his bag. "Don't forget that I am one too and I could kill you in an instant if I willed it." You threatened.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it!" He whimpered. You took a deep breath, calming yourself. "It's alright, Charles. Just don't ever say that again." You warned. He nodded his head yes in agreement. "Good. Now, do you know if anyone inhabits Ironstone Manor?" You ask.

"The old manor house by the forest?" He asked you, trying to remember. The name sounded familiar.

"Yes, that belonged to me before I.." You trailed off, but Charlie understood.

"No I don't think so." Charlie replied scratching his head. "I remember some of my friends saying something about it...that it was haunted or something." He told you.

You scoffed. "Haunted. Anyways, tomorrow night I would like you to help me move my coffin back to Ironstone Manor. We'll need a carriage." You told him. "Also, if possible could you try to find out anything about my husband? Maybe where I can find him."

"I'll try. My mum might know something." He answered.

"Thank you Charles." You said sincerely, placing your hand on his shoulder. "You look so much like him you know." It was almost hard to believe that they weren't the same man. Charlie noticed had incredibly sad your eyes became and wondered why. He had so many questions that he wanted to ask you.

"Well, it's time for us to depart. Till tomorrow night." You said with a faint smile, climbing back into your coffin, and shutting the lid as you went.

Charlie picked up his backpack and threw it over his shoulder. He took one last look at your coffin knowing how vulnerable you were as you slept before turning and leaving the crypt. If it wasn't for the fact that you held the answers to all his questions, he would kill you. Were the questions even worth it? He thought as he trekked back through the cemetery towards his bike. Now it seemed much more than research for his school paper, now it was about revealing all the family mysteries that had been kept from him all these years.

He climbed onto his bike and drove back home away from the cemetery, away from you. On the drive home, he started to realize how tired he was, nearly colliding with an oncoming bus as he drifted off. The painful wound on his neck and the loss of blood did nothing to help. He needed rest, but he had so much to do. He was afraid that if he didn't do it you would literally kill him. He shivered at the thought as he pulled up into the driveway. As he pushed through the front door his mother greeted him her expression filled with worry and anger.

"Where were you?! I was worried all night! Least you could have done was call." She yelled placing her hands on her hips.

"I'm sorry. I got caught up. You know how it is." He told her, hoping she wouldn't press him for a better explanation. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Her grandfather was the same. Once he got fixated on something it was nearly impossible for him to concentrate on anything else, even eating.

"Just don't do it again." She warned him.

"Alright. I'm sorry." He apologized again.

"Get some rest. You look terrible." She pointed out, throwing on her coat.

He chuckled. "Thanks."

"I'm going to work. I'll see you tonight." She said, heading towards the door, but he stopped her.

"Mom?!" She turned around to face him.

"I have a question." He started.

"Lawrence Van Helsing didn't make it clear in his journal about whether Dracula was alive or dead--" She suddenly cut him off.

"He's dead." She stated looking annoyed. Why did he have to pick vampires of all things to write his paper on?

"How do you know?" He asked, taken aback.

"I just know! He's dead and it's better for everyone that he stays that way." And with that she turned and left without another word. There was something more that his mother wasn't telling him, but he decided it would be best left alone, for now.

Maybe his great grandfather had something in his room that could help him, needing more information. He went up the stairs, the steps creaking under each step that he took. Once he reached the top, he went down the hall to  Lorrimer's old room. When he opened the door, he found that it was still in the condition he left it in before he died. He sighed, suddenly missing him. What would he think of him now, aiding the wife of his greatest enemy? Charlie just shook it off as best he could, wanting to continue with his search starting in his bedside table and dresser. It was mostly old random papers and pictures, sometimes the odd piece of jewelry strewn about, but nothing about Dracula.

Next he went to the closet, pulling out old shoe boxes and going through all his pockets. Suddenly, just as he was about to give up, he found a hidden compartment hidden behind a big pile of old books, some of which looked decades old. He carefully pulled open the door and reached inside. His hand landed on something soft. It felt like a blanket or something. As he pulled it out he heard something drop to the floor at his feet with a clang. He looked down and saw a ring. He bent down and picked it up, twirling it over in his hand. On it was a crest with a large D engraved in the center. "Dracula!" He whispered to himself. He stuffed it in his pocket and examined the fabric that he found,  carefully unfolding it to reveal a large cloak, black with red lining and torn in some spots. This must be Dracula's as well. He reasoned as he folded it back up and put it in his bag. His mother was right. Dracula was dead, finding the cloak and the ring only confirmed it. Why else would these things be here?

After finishing his search he went into the kitchen where he grabbed some energy bars and a bottle of gaterade, putting those in his bag as well. If he wasn't going to get any sleep, he at least needed to eat. Then he went over to the phone and quickly dialed his friend's number. Eagerly he waited listening to the tone hoping that he would pick up.

"Hello?" His friend finally answered, sounding groggy.

"Hey Ben!" He said, trying to sound pleasant even though he too felt tired.

"Charlie? What are you doin' up at this hour?" Ben asked. Although it was only 10 in the morning, it was still early for a college student who spent most nights partying. Ben was no exception.

"Sorry, I just wanted to ask you something." Charlie quickly apologized.

"It couldn't have waited till later, mate?"

"No, sorry. Can I borrow your truck?" Charlie asked, biting his lip.

"Sure, what for?" Shit. He hadnt gotten that far. He needed to come up with an excuse and quick.

"Um...my friend needs help moving." He lied.

"Oh I see. When do you need it?" He asked stifling a yawn.

"Tonight, round 6. She doesn't get off from work till then." He blurted, hoping his friend would buy it.

"She, huh? Is she...uh... cute?" Ben asked, suddenly becoming interested.

"Sorry got to go! I'll see you tonight." Charlie said suddenly, hanging up. He rubbed his eyes, feeling exhausted. Maybe just a little nap wouldn't hurt. He told himself as he dragged himself into the living room and he settling down on the couch. Once his head hit the pillow, his eyes shut, and he drifted off to sleep. 

When he woke up, the sun had started disappearing leaving a blanket of darkness over London. He sat straight up and glanced at his watch. Oh no! It was 5:25! He sprung up from the couch and throwing his bag over his shoulder as he went. As he headed out the door he bumped into his mom nearly knocking her back down the steps.

"Oh sorry mum!" He exclaimed.

"Where're you going?" She asked.

"To a friend's house. Gotta help him with some studying." He lied. He hated lying to his mom, but what choice did he have. If she knew what he was really doing, well...

"Oh alright, I came home early hoping we could play a board game or something. But it's ok, go see your friend. I'll see what Kate is doing tonight." Jessica said, feeling slightly disappointed and a little worried, noticing that he had been acting pretty strange the past couple of days.

"Oh I'm sorry. Maybe tomorrow night?" Charlie promised her, feeling terrible. He wasn't even sure if he would be able to play a board game with her tomorrow night.

"Ok. I'll see you later!" She said, waving to him as he sat on his bike and rode off into the night. She didn't know what was up with him, but she just hoped he would be okay.

Charlie drove as fast as he could toward his friend's house. Luckily, for him it wasn't far. He glanced at his watch as he came to a traffic light. You would be awake soon.

When he reached his friend's house, he found him sitting in the back of the truck strumming some tune that vaguely sounded like Nirvana on his guitar. "Hello!" He said, as Charlie pulled up in the driveway. "Hi!"

"So, where is your friend?" Ben asked, tossing his guitar in the backseat.

"Just out of town. I'll bring your truck back in a couple hours I promise." Charlie said, climbing in the driver's side.

"Hey, hey. I wanted to come with ya. See what this chick looks like." Ben said, nudging him.

"Oh well I told her it was just going to be me. She's in shy?" He told him, with a shrug. Ben raised an eyebrow.

"Trying to keep her for yourself huh?" He joked.

Charlie sighed and shook his head. He liked Ben, but sometimes he could be so daft.

"Look, it's my truck. I'm coming with you." Ben insisted as he got into the passenger seat. Charlie couldn't really argue. He needed the truck.

It was now dark as he made his way toward the cemetery. He knew you would be there waiting for him once he got there. He just didn't know how you would react to Ben being there. Would you kill him? His stomach turned at the thought.

"You okay?" Ben asked turning the music down, noticing how ill Charlie suddenly looked. "Yeah, I'm fine." He lied, feeling relieved that he didn't have music blaring in his eardrums. He wasn't in the mood to listen to music of any kind. He just wanted to get this over with.

"Try not to puke in the truck. I just cleaned it last week." Ben told him, caressing the dashboard. Charlie rolled his eyes. Puke would be the least of his worries.

Finally, he pulled up the the cemetery the headlights shining onto the tombstones, casting eerie shadows on the ground before them. "She lives here? What is she Goth or something?!" Ben remarked as they got out.

"You'll see." Charlie said, pushing open the gate. Ben hesitated for a moment, before following him.

"Charlie is this a joke?" He asked, hoping to God that it was. Charlie didn't answer. Now he was getting nervous. He followed him to a tombstone that was located in the back of the cemetery with a great reaper towering over them. Suddenly, a raven flew overhead making him jump. It cawed at him sounding as though it were warning him to turn back. He watched confused as Charlie ran his hand along the blade of the scythe.

"Stand back." He told him, backing away.

"What?" Suddenly the ground rumbled beneath his feet and opened up to reveal a staircase. His eyes widened. "Bloody hell..." He gasped. He couldn't believe his eyes. Never in his life had he seen something like that, only in the movies.

  "I hope there's a hot topic down there." Ben mumbled as he followed Charlie down the stone staircase into the crypt. He glanced around the room his eyes falling on each of the coffins that lined the room.

"You know, you were right. I should've stayed home." He whispered, although he wasn't sure why. It's not like he was going to disturb anybody. Suddenly from out of the darkness you appeared. Ben nearly screamed, but couldn't. He froze in place.

"I told you to come alone." You said to Charlie, sounding displeased.

He sighed. "I know, but he insisted. I needed the truck." He explained with a shrug.

"Truck?" You asked, giving him a confused expression.

"Modern day carriage." He answered.

"I see."

"I also found some things that might interest you." Charlie said, taking off his bag. "I found these in my great grandfather's room." He said, handing you Dracula's cloak and ring. You worst fear was confirmed. Your true love was indeed dead. You held his cloak against your chest and sobbed into it. Charlie felt bad for you. You clearly loved him, no matter how monstrous he thought he was.

"I'm sorry." He said, looking at his feet. Ben watched you two looking confused. You took a deep breath and looked up at Charlie.

"He will return. I'll see to that." You told him sounding determined.

"How?" He asked.

"There are ways." You glanced over at Ben, your eyes flashing at him in the dark. He slowly backed away.

"Charlie, you're into some weird shit and I want no part of it." He gulped as he clambered up the stairs.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed him from behind, pulling him back down, and throwing him onto the floor. Charlie looked away, knowing what was coming next. You picked Ben up by his collar and held him before you. "Don't worry, it will only hurt for a few seconds." You assured him with a grim, your fangs clearly visible from underneath your red lips. He let out a scream, but it was no good. No one could hear him all the way down there. You sunk your teeth deep into his neck silencing him. Once you had had enough you released him letting him topple to the ground unconscious.

"Why did you do that?" Charlie asked, shaking.

"I had to. Now come, lets move the coffin into this "truck" you speak of." You said dismissing it, stepping over Ben wiping the blood onto your sleeve as you went. Charlie followed you and helped you carry the coffin out of the crypt and through the cemetery to the truck waiting just outside the gate.

"Is that it?" You ask him curiously as you approached the rusty red truck.

"Yep." Charlie answered out of breath. The coffin was made of solid oak, and while you did not struggle to carry your side of it, Charlie did. Once you reached the truck, you helped him lift the coffin up and shove it in the back.

"There. All set." He said, jumping back down.

"Excellent." You said, admiring the vehicle.

"What about Ben?" He asked, looking back into the cemetery.

"Ah, yes. Go get him. I...require something from him." You told him. He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked back towards the crypt. He didn't like the sound of that. He warned him not to go. Stupid, stupid Ben. He thought to himself.

He went back down into the crypt and picked Ben up, tossing him over his shoulder. Luckily for him Ben was a rather skinny guy. He returned to the truck and placed him in the back alongside the coffin, before helping you get into the truck, and then climbing in himself.

"Where are the horses?" You ask, looking around.

"Oh we don't need those." He said, starting up the engine making you jump. Never in your life had you heard such a sound. It was like a great lion was trapped beneath the hood.

"Don't worry." Charlie told you, noticing how worried you suddenly looked as he drove away. You watched out the window in awe looking almost child-like with wonder. If it wasn't for the fact that you had just hurt Ben he would have found this amusing. A vampire from the 1800s in the 21st century.

The manor wasn't too far away, maybe about an hours drive from the cemetery. When they pulled up they realized that it was indeed deserted. Vines had twisted themselves all along one side of the building and were slowly making their way to the other side, looking like some giant green octopus. Some windows were broken, probably from teenagers throwing rocks at them, and grass and weeds had grown over most of the cobblestone path that led up to the entrance of the manor. He suddenly understood why people thought it was haunted. You got out of the truck and looked at your old home, holding Dracula's cloak in your arms tightly. You heart broke once more at the sight of it. How difficult it must be, first finding out that your husband, Dracula was dead and then finding your home in shambles after decades of disrepair. You took a deep breath, forcing back tears  turning away and helping Charlie drag the coffin out of the truck. Once you reached the front door you noticed that it was bolted shut. Charlie groaned realizing he had left his bolt cutter in the crypt.

"It's alright, Charles. I can take care of it." You said pulling hard at the chain breaking it in two. "Being a vampire has some benefits." You remarked, pushing open the door and stepping inside.

The place was dusty and full of cobwebs. The furniture remained where you left it, but it was mostly broken or moth eaten. Charlie couldn't decide whether the outside or inside looked worse. You looked towards the parlor, fondly remembering the last evening you spent together with Dracula. How you held each other in a warm embrace in front of the fire, enjoying the feeling of your bodies against one another.

"Where do you want it?" Charlie puffed, getting tired.

"Upstairs." You answered, guiding him towards the staircase. Henry let out a pitiful sigh, not looking forward to the trip up the stairs. At least they didn't have to go far to reach the bedroom once they reached the top. You placed your coffin where it once lay beside Dracula's. His coffin was still there, unoccupied. Charlie hovered over it staring down into the once soft, velvet lining. He thought of Dracula sleeping there through the day, so that he could rise again at night and feed on human blood.

"Charles?" You spoke, snapping him back to reality. He glanced up at you. "Go get your friend and bring him here." You ordered. He wanted to ask why, but by the look in your eye he dared not. While he disappeared out of the room, you unfolded Dracula's cloak and placed it inside the coffin. Many, many years ago while you still studied under Van Helsing you read about the different ways to bring a vampire back from the abyss. You thought that you didn't need to know it, at the time, thinking that it was unnecessary. You were never going to revive any vampire, but he insisted. Now you knew just how wrong you were. As you waited you went around the room, lighting all the candles. They lit up the room giving it an eerie glow.

Finally, moments later Charlie returned carrying Ben who was still unconscious. "Put him in that coffin." You told him, pointing to Dracula's. He nodded and did as he was told, placing Ben in the coffin.

"What are you going to do?" He asked.

"You will see." You said, wrapping Ben up in the cloak and slipping Dracula's ring onto his finger before crossing the room pulling down a dagger that hung on the wall. The sheath was solid gold and incredibly dusty, but when you pulled the blade out it was shiny as though it was brand new, glinting in the candle light. Charlie could feel panic setting in, knowing what was coming, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. He backed into a corner of the room and shut his eyes not wanting to look, not wanting to see what was to become of his friend.

You stood over the coffin staring down into Ben's face. "Such youth won't be wasted, I assure you. What good would he had made of it anyway?" You said to Charlie, holding the dagger just above Ben's thin, bony neck. "It will serve a much better purpose now." And just as you were about to slit his throat Ben woke up. His eyes widened in terror, he went to scream, but it was too late. You ran the dagger in a deep line across his throat, cutting him from ear to ear. He let out a gurgling sound as blood dripped from his throat and mouth. Charlie covered his ears, unable to bare the horrible sound emanating from Ben's mouth as the life slowly left his body.

Suddenly, a strange mist filled the room engulfing the coffin, swallowing it whole.

"What have you done?!" Charlie cried.

"What I had to. I spent 128 years without him, did you really think I was going to spend another second more?! If you want to blame someone, blame your ancestor. Your friend would still be alive today if it wasn't for him. If he had just left us alone!" You yelled.

Charlie shook his head. "You're monsters!" He accused.

"We are not!" You roared, your voice echoing throughout the room. He fell silent as he saw something within the mist moving. You smiled triumphantly as a hand slowly rose from the under the mist, a hand that did not belong to Ben, but to Dracula himself.

#i think this is one of the longest chapters ive ever written #hope you like it! #dracula x reader #x reader #reader insert #hammer #christopher lee #poor charlie #not my gif

[ideasihadbutdontlike]

Lost In Time (2)

SUMMARY: This is the prelude to Lost in Time, answering the question, How did the Avengers lose one of their own? 

Word Count: 2,224

The italics is present day for the Avengers. Also this picture is my background lmao. 

Accepting that you were supposed to work with the Avengers was mind boggling. It was weird, and yet not totally out of your element. In a weird way you felt at home here. There were people who could do crazy things, the same way you and others at Camp could.

Right now you were following Strange, Steve, and Tony to the common room. Taking in the advancement in technology made your head hurt. And you wondered if you would remember this when you were sent back. 

"So how exactly did you "lose" me?" You asked, sitting on one of the chairs in the common room. 

"Well," Tony started, stopping to collect himself. The room grew tense with silence. Steve looked angry and sad, and all of that left you feeling uneasy. 

You were so excited; it was your first day off in months. Being an Avenger was extremely time consuming. 

You were practically bouncing off the walls of the compound, you were so excited. You had made plans with Annabeth to go visit Chiron at Camp Half-Blood. Between being a demigod and an Avenger, the Avengers got 98% of your time. It’s not like you were complaining, you were so over being the gods little pawn. Still, you missed your friends and the sentiment of Camp. 

You said a quick farewell to your team as you stepped into the elevator with Annabeth, “Don't get in too much trouble without me!” You called as the doors closed. 

The ride to Long Island was full of laughter and catching up. You haven't really talked to anyone outside of your mom and the Avengers in almost a year. Anyway, Percy and Annabeth decided they were going to get married despite Hera. And you, well you were in New York fighting the battles so no one else had to. Approaching Half-Blood Hill you pulled the car off to the side of the road.

After greeting your old friend Peleus (The dragon that guards the fleece), you stepped through the barrier. The smell of the strawberry fields, the warmth of the sun, the sound of arrows hitting their targets, and swords clashing, kids laughing. It all brought you right back to being a 17 year old half-blood, when nothing was more important than making the most of the summer. The faint music from Apollo cabin drew you in for a second. Looking over at the cabins made your chest bubble with pride. You and your friends, your family even, fought so hard for this. For once, you felt truly at peace standing next to those strawberry fields. You were home, you grew up here, and all at once the weight of your influence stole your breath. You helped rebuild this place, and against all odds you were alive at 30 to appreciate it. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Annabeth said, standing next to you. She was doing the same thing. Reminiscing, allowing her walls to come down in the safe place that is Camp Half-Blood. 

“Yeah,” you laughed breathlessly. “This is amazing.” You looked at her. “Let’s go see Chiron.” You and Annabeth made your way over to the Big House, where Chiron was standing talking to some campers. You guys stood back until he was finished, but their constant glances your way made him turn. 

“Annabeth, Y/N,” He said with a huge smile. “Welcome back!” He turned his attention back to the campers. “Michael, Kya, give these two the full tour. Then bring them to Cabin 11” Chiron said, The two older kids, whom you assimes were counselors, nodded, leading the two smaller boys away. 

“Is it just me or do they look strikingly like Percy?” You whispered to Annabeth. She nodded, looking just as perplexed as you felt. You figured Poseidon was no longer under oath, but you actually weren't expecting him to have any more demigod children. Meanwhile, a glance over at Cabins 1 had you biting your tongue. New campers poured in and  out of Zeus’ cabin which was pretty on brand for Zeus, you thought. 

“Walk with me ladies,” Chiron said. “A lot has changed since you’ve been gone.” So, the two of you walked with Chiron through the mess hall, where dozens of new tables stood. When you walked over to admire the renovated cabins, a boy, not much older than 12 maybe 13 ran up to you. 

“You’re Y/F/N Y/L/N right?” He asked. The kid had sandy brown hair and excited blue eyes.

“I am,” you smiled at him. 

“No way! I’m Dean, I’m in Apollo cabin. You’re like a legend! And you’re an Avenger! That’s so cool.” Figures. Most of these kids were from New York, and the majority of them knew who the Avengers were. 

“Nice to meet you Dean. Listen, I’ll swing by the archery range later, the hour before dinner. Maybe I’ll see you there.” You ruffled his hair and nudged him along. 

The time flew by, and before you knew it, it was time for Dinner. You were walking with the Apollo cabin over to the Dining pavilion. The day was spent with Annabeth and Chiron walking around camp, meeting and training campers, and hanging out with the Apollo kids. Lacy Partick was head counselor these days, nice girl. As you sat for your last meal at Camp, you were with Chiron and Annabeth. Your phone rang, interrupting your conversation. 

“Work calls?” Chiron asked. 

“I don’t know, Excuse me for a second.” You said, walking away from the noise of the pavilion. 

“Hello?” You answered. The call was from an unknown number. 

“Y/N?” A woman called from the phone. 

“Speaking, who is this?”

“My name Is Jenna McAllister, I work with S.H.I.E.L.D. We need you to come in ASAP.” She said, the urgency in her voice made you tense with worry. 

“Okay. Give me a minute,” You said, putting her on hold. You ran back to Annabeth. “I have to go, I’m so sorry.” You said. Luckily, being an Avenger meant these things happen, and being a demigod/demigod trainer Annabeth and Chiron were more than familiar with last minute quests. 

“Go,” Annabeth said, “I’ll call Percy.” You nodded and looked at Chiron.

“It was great to see you, Chiron. The Camp is absolutely amazing. I’ll be back soon, I swear” You said. 

Chiron laughed, “I’ll hold you to that dear. Go.” he said, waving you off. So you ran. You ran down the hill into your car. Starting the car you took Jenna off hold. 

“Alright McAllister, what’s going on?” 

“Our sources are telling us the Avengers are being held captive somewhere in Boston.” 

“Hold on, you mean to tell me every one of them is out of commission?” You asked, in disbelief. 

“That’s what we think. None of them are responding, it’s been hours.” She said. No, no, no, no, nonono, you thought. No them, not your family. “We’re sending in a team, we were hoping you would lead it.” 

“Of course, have a jet ready, I’ll be there in 20.” 

“Yes ma’am.” She said, “We’ll have all of your weapons ready to go as well.

“Thank you,” You said. The call was over, but your mind raced as you took the fastest way to the compound. Speeding through New York might not have been your best choice, but at this point it was all you could do. You had managed to reach the compound in 15 minutes, going 90 through the city and on the rural roads leading up to the building. 

You were met in the hangar with a team dressed in combat gear, guns strapped and ready to go. 

“Y/N!” You recognized Fury’s voice. Your suit and weapons are all on board. You have a team of 14 of our top agents. There’s a box on top of your suit, it’s an earpiece in it. Wear it. You’re in charge, Bring 'em' home, whatever it takes.” You nodded. 

“See you soon boss,” You said, waving the team into the jet. 

Landing in Boston you were suited up and ready to go. You were going to split the team in two, enter the building from both entrances and meet in the middle. The “Building” was an inconspicuous Brown Stone in the middle of Boston. That meant you had to walk to the building as discreetly as possible in an attempt to attract as little attention as possible. 

Your half of the team was going in through the front door, the other was going through the side. Kicking in the door you cleared the first three rooms as quickly as you could. Looking for any signs of the Avengers.

It wasn’t long before you came across the disaster that was the basement. There were holes in the walls from Clint's arrows, repulson beams, Steve’s shield, bullets, everything you could think of marked these walls. The blood splattering the walls and floor was what got to you. Who or What had the power to take down the Avengers. Hand on your comms you asked the other team how it was going. The “Captain” of that team had nothing but family pictures and soccer schedules. “Come down to the basement. We’re searching every inch of this place until we get an answer.” “Spread out, take pictures, document everything. Then Fuck it up. Push on the walls, look for anything unusual and run with it. You find ANYTHING, you let me know. Got it?” You said in your most commanding voice. You were trained for this, but this was the most high stake mission you’d ever been on. 

Surveying the room, you noticed a faint glow behind one of the bricks. It was a faint golden hue, much like that of Celestial Bronze. Reaching toward the brick you pushed it. To your amazement, the surrounding bricks pulled apart harmoniously to reveal a pathway. It was buried into the ground, and had to be about 10 feet deep, but at the end the golden hue was brighter.

 “Okay,” You whispered. “Whatever’s down there is not going to be friendly. We need to be quiet. Our main goal is to get in, find the team, get them out. Who wants to come?” No one raised their hand. And you couldn't blame them. You didn’t want to go down the tunnel either but your friends were down there. 

“Alright, you three, you’re staging here to cover us. Anything goes down, or comes up, deal with it. The rest of you follow me.” You turned, putting your bow on your back and pulling out your knife of Celestial bronze. Leading the team through the tunnel you listened for any signs of monsters. You had a bad feeling about this. This was pure “Mythology” and you weren't happy about it. Reaching the end of the tunnel you caught sight of Steve’s shield. Peeking around the corner, you saw the team, in a cage of whatever was strong enough to keep them there. Signaling the S.H.I.E.L.D. team to wait for you, you went over to the Avengers.

 “Y/N,” Nat whispered. 

“Hey guys, what are we dealing with?” You asked. 

“It’s some kind of dragon,” Tony said. “Nothing we threw at it worked. And it’s got little minions.”

You had an idea of who they were talking about. One of Apollo’s greatest enemies was Python. A dragonesque snake. In the last war against Gaia you had slain Python again and again, until he finally stayed dead. 

“I think he wants me.” You said. 

“Y/N, whatever you're thinking, stop it.” Natasha said. 

You had grown closer to Natasha than most of the other Avengers. She was like a sister to you, and that’s why it was so easy for you to make the decision. 

“I’m sorry Nat,” you whispered. 

“Python!” you yelled. “Come out here. Let’s make a bargain.” You said, looking at Natasha the whole time. 

“Y/N stop it!” She yelled. The booming footsteps alerted you of Python’s presence. 

“We meet again.” Python said. He spoke in a combination of a hiss and a growl. It was unnerving to say the least. 

“Python, release these people.” You demanded. 

 Python laughed, a bone chilling sound that you swore on your life you never wanted to hear again. 

“Why would I do that?” He asked. 

“Because you can have me. Release them and you can do whatever you want with me. They have nothing to do with this.” You said, glancing at the team behind him still in the tunnel. 

Python laughed again, “Very Well.” Reaching out, he grabbed you in one of his giant claws. Moving over to the cage he wiggled you in front of them. Natasha covered her mouth to contain her sob. Steve, Tony and Clint looked at Python with searing rage. “One wrong move and she dies tonight.”  He opened the cage and walked away with you to the depths of his lair. 

Taking their confiscated weapons, the Avengers met the S.H.I.E.L.D. team in the tunnel. On their way up they heard the sound of chains, and your screams. But they knew there was nothing they could do right then. They just had to move quickly. 

“You saved us,” Steve said. His head down. “You saved all of us.”

#Avengers au #Avengers imagine #Percy jackson imagine #camp half blood #Annabeth Chase #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #natasha romanov #Percy Jackson #marvel masterlist

[fanfics4all]

Tri-Wizard Tournament

Request: Yes / No  Hello! I love your writing and was wondering if you're taking requests for harry potter? If so I was wondering if you could write a cedric diggory x sibling reader/ draco x reader where the reader basically goes though everything cedric went through in the movie and just lots of angst and fluff and stuff! I understand if you don't get to this, thanks love!♡ (Btw the reader can be any house!) Anon

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Diggory!Reader

Word count: 5415

Warnings: Death and sadness!

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your NickName

A/N: This is my first attempt at a Harry Potter fic! Let me know what you guys think, also sorry it’s so long! 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Back at Hogwarts, home sweet home. We were all settled in at our tables and I smiled at my brother from across the room. I was upset when I wasn’t put in the same house as my slightly older brother Cedric, but I was happy with Ravenclaw. I then glanced over at my boyfriend Draco Malfoy. People were a little shocked that he was with someone from another house, but I was also a Pure-blood, something his parents were very happy with. My family on the other hand weren’t the happiests, but they tried not to bother me about it. 

Everyone was chatting about their summers and catching up with friends. Dumbledor got up and quieted everyone down. It took a moment, but the room was soon quiet. 

“Now we’re all settled in and sorted, I’d like to make an announcement. This castle will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests as well. You see Hogwarts has been chosen…” He was cut off by Filch running up to him and whispering something to him. He ran off and Dumbledor stood up straight again. 

“So Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event. The Tri-Wizard tournament. Now for those of you who do not know, the Tri-Wizard tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school a single contestant is selected to compete. Now let me be clear, if chosen you stand alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint hearted, but more on that later. For now please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their headmistress Madam Maxime.” He said and the doors opened. Girls dressed in blue came in dancing and butterflies flew into the air. They got to the front and bowed, the guys stared in awe as the girls glared at them. I took a glance at Draco and he was also staring, I sent him a glare. He noticed me and quickly looked down. I rolled my eyes, boys… 

“And now our friends from the north, please greet the proud sons of Drumstrang and the high master Igor Karkaroff.” Dumbledor said and the doors opened once again. A bunch of strong looking guys walked in and the girls started staring, while the boys glared. I couldn’t help myself, Draco sent me a glare and I gave him a sorrowful smile. He rolled his eyes and started glaring at the guys that just walked in. Everyone sat down and the feast began. 

Once everyone ate, Dumbledor stood up once again.

“Your attention please!” He called gaining everyone’s attention. 

“I would like to saw a few words. Eternal glory, that is what awaits the student who wins the Tri-Wizard tournament. But to do this that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks. For this reason the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all this we have the head of the Department of International Magic Cooperation, Mister Bartimus Crouch.” He introduced and a man stood up. Suddenly thunder roared through the room and it started raining. People started screaming and panicking, I looked around confused. Someone casted a spell and I looked over to see Mad-Eye Moody standing off to the side. 

“My dear old friend, thanks for coming.” Dumbledore greeted him. 

“That stupid roof.” He grumbled back and took a drink. 

“After much deliberation the ministry has concluded that for their own safety no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. This decision is final.” Mr. Crouch said. Everyone that was under seventeen started booing and causing a fuss. I didn’t care, seeing as I could still participate. 

“Silence!” Dumbledore boomed. He casted a spell and the box that was behind him revealed a goblet with blue flames. 

“The Goblet of Fire. Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the tournament merely write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour of Thursday night. Do not do so lightly, if chosen there’s no turning back. And from this moment the Tri-Wizard Tournament has begun!” He said. 

As soon as we were sent to our houses, everyone walked out. Draco pulled me to the side and his eyes narrowed at me. 

“What was that about?” He asked and I raised a brow at him. 

“I’m sorry?” I asked. 

“I saw you staring at those guys.” He growled and I scoffed. 

“You were staring at those girls.” I pointed out. 

“I-I wasn’t-”

“Merlin, Draco, I saw you don’t even try and lie to me. You were bloody drooling over them.” I said rolling my eyes.

“And you weren’t?” He scoffed. 

“Draco please, this is ridiculous.” I said. 

“You’re mine.” He growled and I smirked at him. 

“I know love.” I said and walked off. 

A few days later I was walking to the Goblet to put my name in. As I was walking someone grabbed me to stop me. I turned around to see my brother. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. 

“Putting my name in the Goblet, obviously.” I said. 

“No, it’s dangerous.” He said and I noticed he too had his name on a piece of parchment. 

“So? You’re putting your name in.” I said. 

“I’m older.” He said and I rolled my eyes. 

“By a year Ced, I’m putting my name in.” I said turning back around, but he stopped me once again. 

“No way! You’re going to get hurt.” He said. 

“Ced, I love you, but I’m doing this. I’m not scared.” I said and he shook his head. 

“Please don’t do this.” He begged. 

“I won’t if you won’t.” I said. 

“But-” 

“That’s what I thought.” I said turning on my heel and walking into the room. Everyone cheered when they saw Cedric and he was loving it. He put his name in the Goblet and again they cheered. I walked up and placed my name in, smiling at my brother. He shook his head at me and I heard people whispering about how I was crazy for putting my name in. The Weasley twins came running in and all attention was on them now. I slipped out of the room and was walking back to my common room. Again some grabbed me and I turned to see Draco. 

“Have you lost it?” He asked and I sighed. 

“Not you too…” I groaned. 

“Did you not hear how it’s dangerous? What if something happens to you?” He asked. 

“I’m not afraid, I want to do this.” I said and he shook his head. 

“No, this is crazy!” He said and I rolled my eyes. 

“Imagine if I win, how incredible would that be? I’d be a legend!” I said. 

“You’re sure you want to do this?” He asked after a moment. 

“Can’t really take it back now, but yes I really do.” I said and he sighed. 

“I’m still going to hope you don’t get picked.” He said and I smiled. 

“Do that all you want love, but I’ll be hoping for the opposite.” I said and kissed him. 

It was finally Thursday and I was so anxious and excited. Everyone was gathered in the Goblet room, waiting for the names to be announced. 

“Sit down please.” Dumbledore called into the room. Everyone quieted down and looked on with both excitement and anxiousness. 

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the champions selection!” He said. He walked over to the Goblet and the blue flame turned red, then spit out the first name. 

“The Durmstrang champion is, Viktor Krum!” He announced and the Durmstrang boys cheered. The flame turned red again and another name came out. 

“The champion from Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour!” He announced. The girl cheer as Fleur walked up. The flame was once again red and the last name came out. 

“The Hogwarts champion, Y/N Diggory!” He announced and I smiled, getting up. I walked down, took my name, and followed the other two into the other room. 

That was the start of the tournament. It was all normal, except instead of three champions there were four, the great Harry Potter somehow got his name in the Goblet. People were rooting for me to win over Harry. They were insulting him nonstop and I honestly felt bad. Everyone seemed to be wearing bandages someone made, all insulting Harry. Currently I was hanging out with my brother and friends, they were insulting Harry, but my brother and I were staying out of it, mostly. Cedric was laughing at their jokes and insults, while I was sitting there a bit uncomfortable. I sat on the bench and noticed Harry walking our way. 

“Can I have a word?” He asked me and I nodded. We walked away from our friends and my friends were trying to call me back, but I ignored them. 

“Dragons. That’s the first task. They’ve got one for each of us.” He said and my eyes widened. 

“Are you serious? And the others, Fleur and Krum, do they…?” I trailed off. 

“Yes.” He answered. 

“Right, hey Harry, listen about the badges. I had nothing to do with it, I’ve asked them not to wear it, but-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said cutting me off and walking off. I sighed and shook my head. I feel so bad… I turned to go back to my friend, but someone’s voice stopped me. 

“Why so tense Potter? My father and I have a bet you see. I don’t think you’re gonna last ten minutes in this tournament. He disagrees. He thinks you won’t last five.” Draco teased with a laugh. 

“I don’t give a damn what you or your Father thinks Malfoy. He’s vile and cruel, and you’re just pathetic.” Harry said to him and I sighed. This wasn’t going to end well… I turned back around to see Harry walking off and Draco getting ready to cast a jinx most likely. Mad-Eye walks over and turned Draco into a ferret. 

“Draco!” I called and rushed over to the scene. 

“I’ll teach you to cast when someone’s back is turned.” Mad-Eye growled. 

“Professor Moody, what are you doing?” Professor McGonagall asked walking over as well. 

“Teaching.” Mad-Eye answered. 

“Is that a student?” She asked, shocked. 

“Technically it’s a ferret.” He answered. He then sent him into Crabbe’s pants. Goyle tried to pull him out but apparently Draco bit him. Everyone was laughing and I glared at my brother for being one of them. Draco ends up on the ground and McGonagall turns him back. 

“My Father will hear about this!” Draco shouted. 

“Is that a threat?” Mad-Eye growled holding up his wand and Draco runs off. I glare at the crazy professor and run after him. 

“Draco!” I call and he stops running. 

“Are you alright?” I asked, gently grabbing his face. 

“That was utterly humiliating.” He groaned. 

“I’m sorry love, but I’m sure everyone will forget about it tomorrow when the tournament really starts.” I said, offering him a smile. 

“Then I just have to worry about you.” He said with a sigh. 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” I said and kissed him. 

Everyone was pacing around the tent waiting for things to start. We heard the roars of the dragons and that only raised our anxiety. Cedric had stopped by wishing me luck and telling me to be careful, same with Draco, but they left soon after. Soon enough Dumbledore walked in with others following him. 

“Good day champions. Gather round please.” He said and we all gathered in a circle. 

“Now you’ve all waited, you’ve wondered, and at last the moment has arrived. The moment only four of you can fully appreciate.” He said and looked around at all of us. 

“What are you doing here Miss. Granger?” He asked when he noticed Hermione here, she had been visiting Harry. 

“Oh um… Sorry, I’ll just go.” She said awkwardly and slipped out. 

“Barty. The bag.” Dumbledore said and Mr. Crouch held open a bag. 

“Champions, in a circle around me. Miss. Delacour over here, Mr. Krum, and Potter over here.” He said moving us around slightly. 

“Right, Miss. Delacour, if you will…” He said holding the bag open for her. Flure reached in and took out a little green dragon. 

“The Welsh Green. Mr. Krum.” He said and Viktor took one out. 

“The Chinese Fireball. Oooooh.” He said. He moved to me and I pulled one out. 

“The Swedish Short-Snout. Which leaves…” He said and turned to Harry. He took out the last dragon. 

“The Hungarian Horntail. These represent very real dragons, each of which has been given a golden egg to protect. Your objective is simple, collect the egg. This you much do, for each egg contains a clue, without which you cannot hope to proceed to the next task. Any questions?” He asked and no one had any. 

“Very well. Good luck champions. Miss. Diggory the sound of the cannon…” Dumbledore was cut off by Filch firing the cannon. Everyone was cheering and I took a deep breath. Everyone left and I was getting ready to walk out. 

“Good luck.” Harry said and I smiled at him. 

“You as well.” I said and walked through the tent. I looked around at everyone and suddenly didn’t feel nervous. The dragon crawled out and cried into the air. I needed to think quickly and pulled out my wand. I casted the transfiguration spell and turned one of the rocks into a dog to try and distract the dragon. Lucky for me it worked and I rushed for the egg. I was just about to grab it when flames engulfed part of my face. I shrieked in pain, but dove for the egg anyway. I held it up and people came and got a hold of the dragon. I was quickly brought to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey was quick to help me. My brother, Father, and Draco were the first to visit me. 

“Y/N/N, are you alright?” Cedric asked, rushing over to me. 

“I’m find Ced, it’s just a little burn. Nothing that can’t be fixed, right Madam Pomfrey?” I asked and she smiled at me. 

“That’s correct.” She said finishing up. 

“It’ll take a few days to heal, but you’ll be good as new.” She said and I smiled. 

“Thank you.” I said and she left to go treat other students. 

“I told you you shouldn’t have done this.” Both Draco and Cedric said at the same time. 

“At least you two can agree on something.” I said rolling my eyes. My Father laughed and smiled at me. 

“She’ll be fine you two, She’s strong.” He said and I smiled. 

“Thanks Dad, at least you understand.” I said. 

The next few days I was in recovery, and I never heard the end of how dangerous the tournament was from both Draco and my brother. When I was finally better and out of the hospital wing we had the whole day off from classes. Professor Flitwick gathered all the Ravenclaws up and we were separated by boys and girls. He was telling us about the Yule Ball and how on Christmas Eve night everyone would gather in the great hall for the party. He informed me as well as everyone that I would be having the first dance along with the other champions. So today was our dance lesson. It was honestly great to learn and I couldn’t stop thinking about how Draco was going to ask me. 

Over the next week I was waiting for Draco to ask me, but he hasn’t yet. I’ve had a few other guys ask me, but I politely declined. I was sitting on the edge of the fountain trying to figure out a way to open this stupid egg without it blasting my eardrums out. 

“Y/N?” I looked up to see Draco walking over to me. He looked nervous, but I gave him a smile. 

“Hello love.” I said. He smiled, but pulled out a box from behind his back and handed it to me. 

“What’s this?” I asked, 

“Open it.” He said and I undid the perfectly done green bow. I took the top off the silver colored box and gasped. Inside was a pair of emerald earrings and a sapphire necklace. 

I looked up at him in both awe and confusion. 

“Will you do me the honor of being my date to the Yule Ball?” He asked and I hopped up, attacking him in a hug. 

“Of course Draco! Also these are beautiful.” I said looking back down at the box. 

“I didn’t know if you had a dress already, but if not was I hoping I could convince you to wear a green one?” He asked and I smiled. 

“Sorry love, I already have one. My Mother sent me a dress. It’s blue and silver, but I will still gladly wear these earrings.” I said and gave him a peck. 

“I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.” He said and kissed me deeper. 

“Draco, stop, I really need to work on getting this egg open.” I said, pushing him away with a smile. 

“Come on love, you could use a break from this stupid egg.” He said wrapping his arms around my waist. 

“I just want to know how to open this damn thing.” I said with a sigh. 

A few weeks went by and it was finally time for the Yule Ball. I got dressed and put on the jewelry that Draco had gotten for me. I did a blue and silver eye makeup with winged eyeliner, and finished the look off with a nude pink tinted lip. 

I smiled at myself in the mirror. I looked amazing… I walked down to the great hall. Everyone stared at me in awe and Draco smiled at me. He met me at the bottom of the steps and kissed my hand. 

“You look beautiful love. Absolutely perfect.” He said and I blushed. 

“You look very handsome too, Draco.” I said. 

“Shall we?” He asked, offering me his arm. 

“We shall.” I said taking it. We walked over to the entrance. Professor McGonagall placed us in order and we waited for the cue to walk in. Soon we were motioned to enter and we walked in to everyone clapping and cheering. Each of us got in position and waited for the music to start. Draco and I were dancing expertly and soon other people joined in. 

The night was filled with dancing, laughter, and eating. Draco and I have been inseparable all night. The Weird Sisters even performed some songs, it was a perfect night. Draco had pulled me away and ran to an empty hall. He suddenly stopped and pushed me against the wall.

“I hate seeing them stare.” He growled in my ear. 

“Everyone knows I’m yours, Draco.” I said with a sly smile. 

“They will.” He whispered and started kissing my neck, obviously leaving marks. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. 

��Draco stop! Someone will catch us.” I said, trying to push him off. He finally stopped and gave me a smirk. 

“Now we can go back.” He said and started walking back to the ball. 

“You tease.” I grumbled and followed him. 

“You know you love it.” He said putting his arms around my waist. 

The next day I needed to relax after all the dancing, my feet were killing me. I went to the fifth floor prefects bathroom, the best bathroom in my opinion. I brought the stupid egg with me becuase I still couldn’t open it without it screeching. I filled the large tub and slipped in with the egg in my hands. 

“You stupid egg, what on earth am I going to do with you?” I asked myself. I looked at the water and suddenly got an idea. 

“Worth a shot.” I mumbled and pushed it under the water. I held my breath and followed under it. 

“Come seek us where our voices sound. We cannot sing above the ground. An hour long you’ll have to look, to recover what we took.” The voices sang. I returned to above water and thought about it for a bit. 

“So the next task is in the Black Lake and we only have an hour, but what are we retrieving?” I asked myself. 

“Guess I have to find a way to breathe underwater…” I sighed. I finished my bath and quickly went back to my room. 

I was walking around the grounds of Hogwarts trying to find Harry. He helped me with the first round, so now it was my turn to help him. Finally someone told me they saw him near the bridge. I rushed there and found him talking to Hermione. 

“Hey, Potter!” I called and he turned around. 

“Y/N.” He said. 

“How are you?” I asked. 

“Spectacular.” He said sarcastically. 

“Harry, listen, I realised I never properly thanked you for tipping me off about the dragons.” I said. 

“Forget about it. I’m sure you would have done the same for me.” He said. 

“Exactly! Which is why I’m telling you that you should take your egg underwater.” I said and he looked at me confused. 

“Trust me.” I said and walked off. I walked to the library to try and find something to help me breath under water. I was studying when someone sat down next to me. I looked up and saw Draco. 

“What are you doing, love?” He asked. 

“Trying to think of a way to breathe underwater.” I sighed. 

“Would you like me to help?” He offered. 

“That’d be helpful, thank you.” I said pushing a book to him. The two of us were looking for anything, but so far nothing that would last an hour or longer. 

“Hey Y/N/N, Malfoy, what are you doing?” Cedric asked, walking over to us, he narrowed his eyes at Draco. 

“Trying to find a way to breathe underwater.” I groaned. 

“What about the bubble charm?” He said and my eyes lit up. 

“I totally forgot about that! Ced, you’re the best! I said, jumping up and hugged him. 

“Anything for my little sis.” He said with a chuckle. 

“Mr. Malfoy, Professor McGonagall needs you in her office.” Miss. Pince said. 

“Um alright?” He said, confused. I gave him a peck and he left. 

“Would you help me put these away?” I asked my brother and he nodded. We talked about the tournament and he once again was telling me how I shouldn’t be doing this. 

The next day the Weasley twins were taking bets on who would win this task. I was walking with my brother, trying to look around for Draco. I haven’t seen him since the library last night… I was playing with my hands, something I did when I was nervous and Cedric noticed. 

“Hey, everything’s gonna be fine.” He said, grabbing one of my hands. 

“I know.” I said. We finally made it to the lake and everyone was ready to start. 

“Welcome to the second task! Last night something was stolen from each of our champions. A treasure of sorts. These four treasures, one for each champion, now lie on the bottom of the Black Lake. In order to win each champion need only find their treasure and return to the surface. Simple enough. Except for this, they will only have one hour to do so and one hour only. After that they’ll be on their own.” Dumbledore’s voice boomed. 

“You may begin at the start of the cannon.” He continued and once again Filch fired the cannon. We all jumped in and I quickly casted the bubble charm. I started swimming around trying to find whatever this treasure was. After a bit I heard some singing and quickly swam towards it. When I got there I saw Draco tied down by his ankle and my eyes widened. Harry was also there staring confused at the four people, but there wasn’t time for that. I quickly casted a spell to break the rope on Draco and grabbed him. I looked at Harry and tapped my watch that Cedric let me borrow. He nodded and I swam to the surface. We both got on the platform and people handed us towles right away. He coughed and then looked at me. 

“You’re alright.” I said and kissed him. Cedric ran over and hugged me tightly. 

“Y/N! You did it!” He said excitedly and I smiled. I did, I came in first! Soon Krum and Harry joined us and the judges went to go discusses something. 

“Attention! Attention! The winner is Miss. Diggory!” Dumbledore announced and Draco gathered me in his arms. 

“I knew you could do it!” He said and kissed me. 

“For showing unique command of the bubblehead charm. The way I see it, Mr. Potter would have finished first had it not been for his determination to rescue not only Mr. Weasley but the others as well. We’ve agreed to award him second place! For outstanding moral fibre.” Dumbledore said and his friends cheered. After that we all returned to land and all we had was the last task. That night I celebrated with my friends and family for my great achievement. 

Finally it was time for the last task. I was nervous once again, but I knew I needed to push through it. I walked into the large arena with my Father and everyone was cheering. My brother followed behind us and gave me a quick hug then wished me luck. Draco ran down the stands and pulled me to him. 

“Please be safe.” He whispered. 

“I promise, love. I’ll be out in no time.” I said smiling at him. 

“I love you.” He said and kissed me. 

“I love you too, now go back before they start it.” I said and he rushed back to his seat.  The music stopped and all eyes were on Dumbledore. 

“Earlier today Professor Moody placed the Tri-Wizards cup deep within the maze. Only he knows it’s exact position. Now as Miss. Diggory…” He was cut off by people cheering. 

“And Mr. Potter tied for first position they will be the first to enter the maze. Followed by Mr. Krum…” He was once again cut off by cheering. 

“The first person to touch the cup will be the winner. I’ve instructed the staff to patrol the perimeter, if at any point should a contestant wish to withdraw from the task he or shee need only sent up red sparks with their wands. Contestants, gather round. In the maze you’ll find not dragons or creatures of the deep. Instead you’ll face something more challenging. You see, people change in the maze. Oh find the cup if you can, but be very weary you could just lose yours;ves along the way.” He said and we looked at him a bit confused. 

“Champions! Prepare yourselves.” Mad-Eye shouted. I hugged my Dad and then moved to the beginning of the maze. 

“On the count of three… One…” Again, Filch fired early. Harry and I ran inside and now it was time to find the cup. There were so many noises and the maze really liked changing, this was gonna be harder than I thought…

I was running around trying desperately to find the end. Something felt wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was walking through when the walls decided to change again. I ran so I wouldn’t get closed in and luckily made it through. However, Viktor was on the other side and he started attacking me. I tried hiding behind one of the walls and shot some jinx at him. He wouldn’t stop and he kept trying to come at me. Harry suddenly showed up between us and he looked at me confused. 

“Get down!” I shouted and he ducked his head. I finally hit him and I ran to finish the job. How dare he attack me! Harry ran between us and stopped me. 

“No stop! He’s bewitched Y/N!” He said and I tried to push him off me. 

“Get off me!” I shouted. 

“He’s bewitched!” He shouted again and I snapped out of it. I looked up and saw the cup, finally. I ran to the cup with Harry following me. I was so close, but something grabbed my leg and sent me tumbling to the ground. Harry looked back at me and saw me horribly stuck to the ground while being dragged backwards. 

“Harry! Harry!” I begged. Harry stopped and looked back at the cup, but decided to actually help me. He helped me up and I sighed in relief. 

“I thought you were gonna let it get me for a moment.” I said.

“For a moment, so did I.” He admitted and we both looked at the cup. 

“Some game, huh?” I said. 

“Some game.” He agreed. The wind started blowing hard once again and I tried to push Harry to the cup. 

“Go. Take it, you saved me!” I shouted over the wind. 

“Together, on three.” He said and I nodded. 

“One, two, three!” He said and we both grabbed it. 

Suddenly we were in a graveyard and not Hogwarts. I looked over to make sure Harry was still with me and he was. 

“You alright?” I asked. 

“Yeah, you?” He asked and I nodded. 

“Where are we?” I asked, confused. 

“I’ve been here before.” He said getting up. I went over to the cup to examine it. 

“It’s a portkey. Harry! The cup is a portkey!” I said 

“I’ve been here before in a dream. Y/N, we have to get back to the cup, now!” He shouted and I was even more confused. 

“What are you talking about?” I asked. Harry groaned in pain and held his scar. 

“What is it?” I asked, rushing over to him. 

“Get back to the cup!” He groaned in pain. Someone walked out from a building and he was holding something. 

“Who are you? What do you want?” I shouted while holding my wand up.

“Kill the spare.” Whatever he was holding said and blackness overtook me. 

Voldemort had returned to his full form and I watched as Harry battled him. I appeared to him along with a few others. 

“Harry, when the connection is broken you must get to the portkey. We can delay it for a moment to give you time but only a moment, do you understand?” A man that looked like him asked, I’m assuming it was his Father. 

“Harry, take my body back will you? Take my body to my family and tell Draco I’m so sorry and that I love him.” I said and he nodded. 

“Let go. Sweetheart you’re ready, let go! Let go!” A woman, I’m assuming his Mother said. Harry let go and we all rushed to Voldemort to distract him enough.

Draco’s POV

Potter had won. He was of course the one to win. I rolled my eyes at everyone cheering and glared at him. That’s when I noticed Y/N was on the ground with him. He was crying over her and she wasn’t moving… No… It can’t be! I ran down and pushed my way through the teachers. 

“Y/N! Y/N! No!” I cried as the cheering died down. 

“You! You did this to her!” I growled at Potter. 

“No! It was Voldemort. He’s back, he’s back! Voldemort’s back! Y/N, she asked me to bring her body back. I couldn’t just leave her, not there.” He cried and I felt my blood run cold. He couldn’t be back… That’s something to worry about another time. 

“S-She asked me to tell you that she’s sorry and that she loves you.” He said and I finally let the tears fall. 

“Y/N!” I cried and held her close to me. I tuned everything else out after that. I didn’t even notice when her family kneeled down beside me. She couldn’t be gone, she just couldn’t! How was I supposed to do anything without her here by my side? We were supposed to have a future together! She was supposed to live a full and happy life! I can’t do anything without her… She was my everything… 

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[sereisstuff]

𝐀 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞  J.JK

 ~   Jeon Jungkook was a lightweight champion a so-called minute legend, rising to stardom rather quickly while basking in wads of cash and pools of opportunity, therefore, leaving his right hand woman y/n to wallow in the shallows unforgivably with a relationship that pleads for more and a tension that tightens by the minute.

~ Includes - Angst, an angry Jungkook. Drug consumption and neglect. Tears, pain. Slight fluff and rough tension, foolishness, cussing and self doubt, slight kissing and mixed emotions. 

~ This is my first long one shot. 

~WORD COUNT : 4188K

Plus size reader

Jungkook was anguished, unable to comprehend the atrocities he just fulfilled in front of everyone. His anger often speculated multiple things but never did they assume they’re most beloved lightweight competitor had a source for all his rage. The fire he lit distinguished itself in his burning temper while his hand was thrust into a crowd of roaring spectators, not far from him a man laid bloodied and somewhat busted in defeat.

His opponent had muttered something about his best friend, how she would be fine under his fitted sheets with muffled moans and even if the trash talk was embedded within the arena, the amount of disgust he felt hearing those prudent words escape the man’s mouth had oiled something unforgivable inside of himself. You, of course, didn’t hear a word, unsure of your ground while you watched your childhood best friend curl his fist tightly before shoving it into the knockout zone of his opponents face, a gasp was withdrawn from your mouth and you abruptly stood with a cheer.

Yet jungkook had let a scoff escape his lips seeing the man behind him lay in his own pool of misconception, cocky it was to even consider being proud but he was nonetheless. However, this gained him the name one-minute legend, sounded like some sick perverted nickname a pubescent teen gift they’re former in hopes their self-esteem declines.

Jungkook had dashed from the stage into your arms eagerly, you both shared a heartwarming embrace as you shouted praises into his ear “You did it, kook!!! You won!! I knew you had it in you, god I’m so proud of you” his strong arms rested around your waist, tightening by the minute in fear that the spoken words his opponent shared would reach your ears. Yet that day was the destination for his publicity, gaining a name for himself also gained him a renowned position in the hierarchy of boxers.

This led to you having to constantly stick to his side like glue, he requested you be there as support and being his best friend how could you deny the luxury. Although this also led your minimal crush blossoming into something more and you couldn’t be more enraged with yourself then now, his fame was admirable but it shifted something within him.

“I assure you, their only childhood friends. It would be incompetent for him to settle so early” Yuna laughed whilst distracting the publishers of the minor county, her small glance wasn’t missed as she sorrowfully shot you a distant look. Yuna time and again proved herself worthy of managing Jungkook's matches and doing so with gratitude yet she was also your standing figure right now, Jungkook trained like there was no tomorrow and being careful of his enraged outburst they had called you in hopes of slowing his dedication down to a workable pace.

“How long has he been like this,” you asked, genuinely curious about the pertain able answer Yuna was about to give you, she seethed in an eager breath but hesitated towards the end “Yuna, I need to know. He hasn’t contacted me in days and for that to happen- I’m sorry just tell me how long he’s been training himself?” you continued once more, foot desperately tapping at the ground with anxiety filling every fiber of your being.

“He’s been going since 2 in the morning, a few hours after you left for work” she informed sadly, Yuna thought of Jungkook as a younger brother and to see him in such a distasteful state was heartbreaking for her, that and she hadn’t slept in the past two days due to the income of numerous calls and agents seeking interest in Jungkook’s formidable skills which were clearly shown in his iconic match a few months ago.

“He’s in there, right?” you countered, finger pointed to the door while waiting for Yuna to nod her head and gesture for you to go. Yuna waved you off as you walked tediously towards the door, finally able to grasp the heavy breaths and smooth punches escalating every running second just from the door which made you curious how beyond the solid wood looked?

You opened the door with a light push simultaneously you met the sight of Jungkook sweating pools of his own hard work, T-shirt disregarded to the floor and his wounds fleshing badly causing a small yelp to escape your mouth, the room was spacious, filling but a mere part of the building still, it was his to keep. Weights resided within every corner with a matte black for simplicity and not far towards the middle of the room sat a match ground with black ropes embracing it.

“Jungkook” you frowned, closing the door from the eye of the public as you walked towards Jungkook who was high in intensity, his curled fist hadn’t loosened and due to the number of overwhelming matches, he was presumably growing addicted to the adrenaline.

“No, I need to train” Jungkook grumbled, inhaling a deep long breath before he began punching the sand-filled bag once more, you removed the sneakers from your feet before stepping on to the mat respectfully“Jungkook, listen to me. You need rest and I’m not leaving until you stop what you’re doing and go home. Everyone is worried about you especially me” you pleaded heavily slowly approaching Jungkook.

His tattoos glistened under the gleaming light and the highlighted sweat, bicep tensing with every punch thrown chaotically “Go home y/n, rest or something. You’re coming to my match with me tonight?” his demanding question broke in exhaustion towards the end of his sentence, alike his notions you also cried for his attention “what if I said no, hmm?” This made him abruptly stop, a frown knitted between his two strong brows.

You’d never miss one of his matches, even as gullible children you attended every fight of his. Often going with his parents who kindly offered their protection and an escort to and from your parents home, Jungkook, however, couldn’t think about a day where you didn’t come with him everywhere, you were his best friend. The only person he willingly let succumb to his unearthly chaos, someone who could calm him on his cold nights because without you he wouldn’t be in a position that he proudly took today, literally.

“Exactly, now pack your shit Jungkook. You have a match tonight and god forbid you faint before you even reach the octagon” you spoke with an unbreakable tone, wishing to see that soft smile he once wore like a crown. The tips of his lips curled slightly but never did it fully reach his alluring eyes, he was reaching his peak publicity and you weren’t going to stop him.

Jungkook huffed using his injured hand to run through his thick, wet locks. He stood there, unclothed with a prominent aura as his tall body faced you with a perplexed look floating through his curious yet hooded hues “Come on kook, grab your things” your voice was soft and angelic, not too rough on the edges once you approached Jungkook who signed diligently to himself.

Hands caressing his cheeks while biting his lip in temptation “you can train tomorrow, you’re already doing amazing don’t overwork yourself.” Your soft touch slid down his forearm into his hands “Okay!” Jungkook looked down at you with an unreadable look composing with shivers running up and down his body as he repeated your words with a bright smile “Okay, chubs”.

He was a force to be reckoned with, founding his matches with the deepest temperamental attributes he could find within himself. He treated the ring with a mindset which he releases all his impending emotions out into the world, he had issues. Anger was only one soiling in his garden of mentality.

Almost every week you treated him to a few lunches, oftentimes he would reside in your embrace towards the end of the night where the sunny dues hollowed behind the hills and the callous moon shone with a luminescent light peeking through your barreled window cell. The lace depicted multiple floral patterns that when the moon was in the right place, shone against his warm honey coated skin in all its magnificence.

His skin was torn and rough yet held an undertone of purity, sheered in white but stained in blood. Night after night you focused on repairing his wounds, some were mild and others would be considered endangering, though it only got worse with time. Day after day his name was ringing bells on everyone’s doorstep, Jeon Jungkook the knockout champion was what they called him.

He was raised in the chain of renowned people, with this sudden title came money and fame. Jungkook earned a decent amount before but now, it was sickening. You were proud of him and discussed the sudden fame he tampered with, he promised nothing would happen. His attitude wouldn’t change yet that’s where you were foolish enough to believe his innocent intentions. 

“The winner is, Jeon Jungkook the knockout king” was looping every match followed by cheers that could be heard miles away, Jungkook would embrace you every single game, although hours later he reeked of sweat and intoxication, the callous hand of money overwhelmed him to a certain point where he no longer understood what to do with it. Money, cars and homes all laid like dimes in his hands, so he extended his degree. Spending money on you like a little barbie doll, gifting some to his parents and splashing it on awful things.

That didn’t stop you from loving him endlessly, even when it hurt you more to do so.

You had been busy at the bar you worked at, taking up double shifts when the offer was placed not having the courage to face this new publicity seeking best friend of yours. The way he downed bottles of the substance that earned you a living was cruel, never did you think the craft he dedicated himself too would put him in such a position.

“Hey, your phone has been going off for the past hour? You should really answer it” Jihoon called, the phone you had bought was impenetrable in his hands. You shrugged off his advances for you to answer Jungkook's pleads, even so Yuna’s too and probably many more people seeking your company.

“They can wait” you replied dully, shoving a bright smile onto your face. It was almost like Jungkook had finally noticed your distaste for his actions. “Surely” Jihoon rolled his eyes not liking the disliking tone seeping from your venomous mouth, change was bound to come for you and Jungkook but never did you think it would be so soon.

“How’s your boyfriend been?” Jihoon cooed making you gulp at the name “he’s not my boyfriend Jihoon, he’s just a childhood best friend is all” you spoke through a tremble, you were soon succumbing to the desirable thoughts leaking past your mind every running minute. The hatred you felt knowing the love you had for Jungkook was only ever growing, it was like walking through a haunted forest, not knowing when you were going to be pushed away.

“Whatever floats your boat, darl” his tone was lavish, almost too lavish. Pointing a finger towards the answer button on your phone leaving no room for your pleads to comfort his brass decision. Jungkook sighed hearing the phone being answered, erupting a certain taste for whom wrapped his knuckles now. He missed you, not knowing the decisions he made were pushing you further and further from his reach but you couldn’t be too devious to believe he would let such a gem escape him. 

He would be lying if he said tears didn’t escape his doe eyes every now and then, the parties, heathen bound air with a tinge of drugs seeping through his skin could never replace the warmth you offered him, comforting his insecurities in his darkest hours.

“Y/n” his breathing was uneven, erratic and almost death defying. He’d been running, training for hours on end hoping you would burst through the door claiming his acts as a monstrosity. Yet to his demise, the door rattled before the wind. Somewhat bringing comfort to his clouded mind “Hey, kook. What’s wrong? “You managed to say with eyes closed in disbelief towards your former workmate.

Jungkook whimpered as he laid alone against the wall of the gym, his eyes examining the promise ring he’d bought you “Kook?” you called again only meeting the short response of leveled breathing, worry was churning your stomach and heat raised to your cheeks “Jungkook, I have work. Call me back” and with that you impulsively hung up the line.

Jihoon shook his head, you dropped your phone onto the bench while grumbling “what?” Jihoon laughed, smiling towards another customer who took the drink leaving the bar empty for you both to conversate openly “Why don’t you tell him?” he asked.

“Tell him what? He can’t even talk properly without slurring cause he’s so bloody intoxicated all the time” it was a painful truth, to cover up his failure he chose a path of addiction and the side he would reside on your bed was left to wallow in the tender touch of winter.

“Tell him that you love him?!?” Jihoon shouted, gaining the eyes of the vigilant visitors. Some began to point to your direction constantly discussing your name very faintly, just like that you were known as his best friend. Something you’ll forever be and that was the painstaking truth.

“You know I can’t do that, Jihoon. No matter how much I love him, how reckless he is, I will always only be the best friend, his right hand girl. It sucks but there’s nothing I can do about it, because no matter how hard I wanna stop feeling, He’ll always have those alluring eyes staring at me, giving me hope” you breathed, tears brimming the edges of your eyes

…….

The sudden knock against your home door woke you from your sleep, glancing towards the broken clock sitting beside your bed as the time read 2.45 am. The knock rung continuously following a few sounds of metal being fiddled with, the struck noise made you rise tirelessly from your slumber, curling a tight hand around the minimal pocket knife placed under your pillow for protection.

The perpetrator groaned, wailing in agony for the door to relish under the mellow light once you turned it on feeling oddly familiarized with the tone. Hand brisking the handle with a tedious turn in your wrist, a heavy breath migrated from your throat with the knife heaving in your sea of worries. pulling the door open, following the broken wood came Jungkook's drunk state, his ear was solid against the door listening to any footsteps you might have produced through your journey, perching himself against the door towards the sudden pull.

 “Have you been drinking, again?” you prompted first in worry, Jungkook was slurring through his words. noticing his car parked across your lawn and the door of his new BMW was opened, left to close itself. He was leant up against your door with an incurable pain in his eyes and a bottle raised to your face “why have you been ignoring me, chubs” Jungkook slurred tripping over his own feet, the hoodie seized on his ruffled hair almost sliding off with every harsh move he made. You ignored his incoherent whines, taking long strides to his car. The smell was revolting, almost like an intoxicating drug was thrown around carelessly wafting into the air of dampened clothes and alcoholic beverages. Not seeing your former for the past week only for him to come barging into your home at early hours of dusk

You turned his engine off and continued to close his doors safely, Jungkook had caught himself on the step lying face-first on the floor. The sudden impact caused an array of wounds to crack open leaving his beaten face bloodied in injuries “Come on, kook. Let’s get you cleaned up, alright” you gasped, lending a hand around his neck after he tousled on the floor with a groan.

Jungkook didn’t have it in himself to fight, shimmering under the bright light was a bed comfortable enough for him to fall into a comatose state.

“God, look at you. You're a mess” You reached behind your small cupboard grabbing a medical kit, leaning in unconsciously, hence being used to bandaging his wounds you began applying a decent amount of ointment and alcohol to his face after cleansing it gently with some water. Jungkook had slightly sobered up, yet he didn’t speak.

Admiring the proximity as you were inches away from his face, peeking from beneath his bangs at you tiredly apprehending his injuries with delicacy. It was all sudden, his strong breath hit your face as he spoke, this time clearly and fully demanding your attention “why have you been ignoring me?” he rumbled slowly

He clearly hadn’t been paying attention towards himself lately, there were multiple reasons as to why you no longer comforted him on his off nights “Just rest up” you replied, ignoring his silent plea which fell on deaf ears “No, y/n. I need answers, you stopped showing up to training. You stopped answering my calls and I’m lucky if I even get a reply to my messages. I’m sure if I had a match this week you wouldn't even show up. So tell me, I have the right to know why you're being so distant.” Jungkook growled, his overflowing bottle of ridicule was filling to a brim

You pinched the bridge of your nose tentatively examining his face “just look at you Jungkook, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore” the truth was weightless on your tongue, darting a tongue across your lips, glistening them in saliva causing Jungkook to stare down at your lips before darting his eyes back onto your face. His eyes wide in frustration “I could say the same for you” he scoffed.

“you show up to my house at quarter to three in the morning drunk off your ass. Thinking I’m gonna embrace you with all my love, you’ve been doing this for the past three months, Jungkook. Three!! Of course I’m gonna be worried about you but I can’t do it anymore” your heart hammered against your chest and the unreadable look on his face was horrifying.

Jungkook was lost for words, just about to defend his acts before you shut him up again “Remember when we were kids, you promised you wouldn’t hurt me, ever, now look at you. It pains me more to ignore you, but right now I can’t even look at you without wanting to cry” Jungkook had stood up with his intricate hair shielding his sight, ready to face the consequences of his actions towards the one he silently loved from afar.

“You said you would always be there for me now look, where were you huh? Where was that kookie who couldn’t even watch a romance movie without crying. You think ignoring you was the worst, you left me every single night to go get high off your kite only to come weeping back into my arms for me to face the harsh aftermath kook. I’m sick of it” Your voice was shouting, the clouded thoughts struck Jungkook harshly as his nostrils flared in anger.

You stood up, matching his posture. Your hand clasp around his chest with your head hung low “I love you Jungkook, but you can’t even be there for me. I’m tired and you don’t even notice, I’m just some punching bag for your emotions like a fucking idiot. But you know I won’t leave you and that’s the messed up part” your tears caressed your cheeks, rapidly seeking an output.

Jungkook leaned his head back suddenly feeling the weight of his loss crash down on his harder than ever, reaching around your nape to embrace your body in his. Seizing your fist in his open palms leading your struggling arms around his tiny waist.

He rested his head on top of yours, the hot tears pooling around his hoodie “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking y/n.” was all he managed to say, in all honesty Jungkook never let any harm befall you, recent times called for him to fall effortlessly in love with you yet you still managed to make him fall deeper, he’d always liked you from the beginning even as a child, you were his number one supporter, never leaving his side amidst the risk.

“Your so stupid, Jungkook.” Came your sniffle, you’d stopped crying a moment ago but preferred to relish in the memories of Jungkook's embrace, when was the last time he held you like this? It was warm, shaded by his cold outlook Jungkook was rarely what the media depicted.

“Look at me, y/n” Jungkook coeed leaning his head back a little bit enough for his hands to cradle your chubby cheeks in his large hands, your tear glistening eyes peered up at him “You deserve the world and if you give me a chance I’ll do anything to give it to you, let me make it up to you and I promise I won’t fuck it up this time” Jungkook words had knitted your frown together, what was he asking?

“What do you mean?” you questioned warily, Jungkook used his tattooed hand as a tissue wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb “I bought you something a while ago, I couldn’t find it in myself to ask you but now I feel like this is the only time I’ll have the courage to do it.”  He proposed nervously, reaching deep into his pocket while one of his arms still tenderly embraced your waist.

Out came an indigo box, the sudden thought brought a gasp from your lips “will you take this promise ring? My love” my love? Everything was so freshen in abundance, you nodded your head in infirmity. Claming to the thin veil of hope that this wasn’t just a dream, the man you loved since you could first remember was suddenly laying his life and career on the line to promise you something you only wished for.

But was it the right choice?  

Jungkook pulled you into a passionate kiss once you screamed a strong and prominent yes, too eager you were to gain his hand in marriage. It was all unfathomable, he’d also involuntarily moved you into his priceless mansion he adjusted to weeks earlier. You were still adjusting to calling him your boyfriend too, knowing a promise ring meant nothing but what was said in the word. A promise.

He made your Mondays more enjoyable, waking up to his exquisite beauty and oftentimes incoherent snores which you came to adore. Bopping his bruised nose while caressing his cheek, treasuring the moment. He yearned for an embrace to coo in and you gave that, the warmth you offered was his to grasp.

He also stopped coming home high off his kite, the alcohol abuse subsidized and you couldn’t be more happy to have the old kook back. Attending his fights every week with a new outlook for the media, notorious for protecting Jungkook and calming him down when others looked down at his abilities and even when they would make explicit detailed things to say to you in hopes of angering their former opponent.

“Just ignore them baby” you would say, holding his hand tightly in remembrance of your existence, roping him back to reality and soothing the red he was growing to see.

“I’m yours okay baby, don’t worry about them” You muttered after the incident, your dress rising up as you straddled Jungkook to gain his attention “ forget about him.” you continued, Jungkook had a dark look in his eyes. Gawking towards your position as his hands placed themselves on your exposed thighs covered in his markings he consciously made nights before “I’ll always be here okay, look at me. I’ve been here since the beginning nothing and I mean nothing will make me ever want to leave you”

Jungkook breathed, blinking rapidly as his head bobbed down leaving you to pick his chin up to face your worried face. The driver had already left the building and you both were off to his next event, yet even with a face as bruised as his own people still recognized him “keep your head high kook, I love you and I just wish the best for you okay” you were pecking his lips in reassurance and he managed to pull the ends of his lips into a simple smile.

“I’ll listen to you” Jungkook spoke, leaning his forehead against yours as you both shared a breath. Reminiscing the days where you cradled each other in friendship “I love you baby”

Nothing was ever harder for a boxer then the constant matches, yet being with one was probably the hardest task of all.

#jungkook #BTS jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook x chubby reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #Boxing au #boxer!Jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #plus size reader #jungkook x plus size reader

[hottestthingalive]

fake fic title: if roses could talk (maybe with prinxiety if you wanna do that...)

You got it, anon! And I associate roses with roman anyways, so prinxiety is perfect!

-Fantasy au!!!!!

-I like the idea of a gardener and prince romance, but Virgil as the prince? Roman as the gardener? In the palace? h e c k  y e a h

-The palace gardens might as well be the stuff of legend, they are so famed. Roman’s one of many who work in them, but his passion project is the roses, bushes found in a secluded corner surrounded by trees. Roman personally thinks it’s the most beautiful part of the whole estate, but the past workers have allowed this section to fall into disrepair, as the wild roses seem almost uncontrollable, planted by the former ruler and tended to by them before their death. 

-This is also Virgil’s favorite part of the gardens, as he misses his ren very much, and now that his father is ruling, neither of them have much time to mourn together. 

-So cue Prince Virgil, sneaking away from his duties to visit his ren’s old garden, and running into Roman, who’s been tending to the roses in his off hours and Did Not Expect Crown Prince Virgil To Be Here Oh Fu-

-Roman panics. Virgil also panics but sees what Roman’s been doing and is like “oh. thank you.”

-They talk about the garden, do a little bit of caring for the roses together, it’s fun and sweet and cute and they’re friends after that. 

-5 + 1 au: the five times they ran to the roses and the one time they walked? hell yeah

-takes place over a couple years maybe?

-Next time, though, Roman runs to the roses. He’s sneaking away from his duties, but he’s also angry and tired and he misses home and his brother and he’s generally just needs a break. 

-Virgil’s already sitting in the garden, reading, chilling, hoping to see the cute gardener boy again, when Roman stumbles in looking distressed and sad and Virgil’s poor gay heart is ready to go fight god to make his friend happy. 

-He doesn’t fight god but they do have a heart to heart. 

-next time it’s the two of them running in together, laughing, having just stolen far too many cookies from the kitchens. They don’t necessarily have to steal (Janus, who works there and practically helped raise Virgil, what with his parent dead and his father so busy, would sneak the prince the cookies anyways) but Janus makes a show of shaking his fist at them, and besides, the cookies stolen taste better anyways. 

-Lots of blushing and little romantic crushy things in this bit too 

-The next time, Roman runs into the garden. It is night, and Virgil has just disappeared from a ball. He is already waiting there. 

-“They’re going to come looking for you,” Roman says, but it’s hard to concentrate when the prince looks so handsome in the moonlight. “If your father thinks I tried to kidnap you, I’m going to come back from the dead after my execution and haunt you for the rest of your life.” 

- “Ugh, then I’d have to put up with you for an eternity,” Virgil groans, but he doesn’t seem angry, or disappointed. 

-“Would that really be so bad?” asks Roman, stepping closer. 

-“You know, I think it would be rather nice,” Virgil smiles, and takes both of his hands in his. “I’m going to teach you how to dance.”

-“What?”

-Roman is rather bad, at first, but he’s graceful, and he picks it up quickly. Soon, they are swaying in the moonlight, twirling to a song playing faintly in the distance, smiling and laughing (and maybe stealing a few kisses, but who can be sure?)

-The last time Virgil runs to the roses, it is with the smell of metal and smoke in the air. He has a sword in his hands, and his face is smeared with blood. 

-Roman stumbles into the clearing moments later, and Virgil pulls him into a hug, clinging to him like a mast on a drowning ship. 

-“You were supposed to leave with everyone else,” Virgil whispers, their foreheads pressed together, the sound of yelling and screams and bloodshed far away, but getting closer. “I don’t want you or anyone else innocent die for my family’s war.”

-“I couldn’t abandon you,” Roman replies, and as they sway, holding each other, each on the brink of tears, it calls to mind a moment months ago, of moonlight and faint music through the trees. 

-“You have to go,” Virgil shakes his head, pulling away.

“I won’t leave you!” the gardener tells his prince, but even then Roman knows it is not a choice he can make. He has always seen Virgil in flight, the kind prince who loves roses and snarks as often as he breathes and flirts even as he blushes. 

-The prince holding this sword, a firey determination in his eyes, a voice screaming “Protect protect protect” in his ear... this is not the Virgil Roman knows. And he does not love him any less for it, though he knows it is this Virgil which will divide them.

-They say goodbye among the roses, and as Roman leaves to find his family, to find his friends, to become a warrior in his own right, (though he does not know this, yet) Virgil turns, and lifts his sword. 

-When they return to the garden, hand in hand, slow and peaceful and walking instead of running, they are older. Not by much, a few years at most, but a scar runs across Virgil’s eye and cheek, and one of Roman’s arms is wrapped in bandages, a finger or two missing and his once-long hair cut back. They are happy, though, the smiles they give each other all the proof needed of that. 

-“They survived,” Virgil says when they see the roses, voice soft. 

-“The stories these flowers could tell,” Roman grins, and his prince laughs at that. 

-One day, they will be married in this garden, the prince and the gardener, warriors each, crowns of roses atop their heads as they pledge to love each other forevermore. 

-One day, there will be children here, pricking themselves on thorns and plucking petals and playing in the clearing.

-One day, one day, one day.

-For all their lives, Virgil and Roman will find each other by and from and with the roses. And though the flowers never tell their secrets, there will be other stories here, so many tales the roses could tell if only they could talk. 

oh, I loved writing that! I might have to write a full oneshot of this, though I make no promises... Thank you for the suggestion, anon!!

Send me a fake fic title and I’ll tell you what I’d write for it!

#prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #ts roman #roman #ts virgil #virgil #cinder writes #cinder's prompts #cinder's prompt fills #asks #ask game #anon #fantasy au

[dancedance-resolution]

i was tagged by @c-nan for this interests tag game :) thank you for the tag <3

MUSIC Favorite Genres: some modern day pop (like taylor swift and olivia rodrigo) and not-depressing-alternative (like florence welsh and hozier), 70s pop/rock, romantic era and later classical music, jazz standards (like ella fitzgerald and nat king cole)

Favorite Artists: abba, billy joel, donna summer, ella fitzgerald, fleetwood mac, florence welsh, the guess who, hozier, nat king cole, ola gjielo, olivia rodrigo, the orion experience (but only for cosmiccandy), stevie wonder, sugarloaf, taylor swift, and a lot more!

Favorite Song: oh gosh i have so many, but for now i'll say: treacherous by taylor swift

Most Listened to Song Lately: we built this city on rock and roll by starship

Song Currently Stuck in my Head: the day before you came by abba

Five Favorite Lyrics:

just. the entirety of treacherous by taylor swift.

dress in love, she lives for life to be / green-eyed lady feels life i never see (green-eyed lady by sugarloaf)

address the letters to the holes in my butterfly wings / and when the clouds won't iron out / when the monsters creep into your house / well, i hope you know how proud i am you were created (hope ur ok by olivia rodrigo)

the autumn chill that wakes me up / you loved the amber skies so much / long limbs and frozen swims / you'd always go past where our feet could touch / and i complained the whole way there / the car ride back and up the stairs / i should've asked you questions / i should've asked you how to be / asked you to write it down for me / should've kept every grocery store receipt / cause every scrap of you would be taken from me / watched as you signed your name marjorie / all your closets of backlogged dreams / and how you left them all to me / what died didn't stay dead / what died didn't stay dead / you're alive, you're alive in my head / and if i didn't know better / i'd think you were singing to me now (marjorie by taylor swift)

hey, look up / you don't have to be a ghost / here among the living / you are flesh and blood / and you deserve to be loved / and you deserve what you are given (third eye by florence + the machine)

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or quiet volume | slow or fast songs | music video or lyric video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

Favorite Book Genre: niche non-fiction! and fic <3

also gonna add my Favorite Fic Tropes/Tags: hurt/comfort, slow burn, fake dating, roomates au, there was only one bed!, college au, enemies to lovers, idiots (pining) to idiots (togther), established relationship, sports au, royalty au, fantasy au, friends to lovers, and many more!

Favorite Writers: marguerite bennett

Favorite Fic Writers: ayeti, bigmamallama5, coffeeshib, drfitzmonster, ekingston, jazzfordshire, littlemousejelly, lovedandliked, robie, searidings, shipsandglitter, takarter, wtfoctagon, you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus, zedpm, and so many more!!

Favorite Books: the poet x by elizabeth acevedo, 1984 by george orwell, rebecca by daphne du murier

Favorite Book Series: the babysitters club by ann m martin, the mother-daughter book club by heather vogel frederick, mercy watson by kate dicamillo

Comfort Book: robie's wedding date au

Perfect Book to Read on a Rainy Day: jazz's 70s au

Favorite Characters: the second mrs de winter (rebecca), mercy watson (mercy watson)

Five Quotes From Your Favorite Books:

mi boca no puede escribir una bandera blanca, nunca será un verso de biblio. mi boca no puede formarse el lamento que tú dices tú y dios merecen. tú dices que todo esto es culpa de mi boca. porque tenía hambre, porque era callada. pero, ¿y la boca tuya? cómo tus labios son grapas que me perforan rápido y fuerte. y las palabras que nuna dije quedan mejor muertas en mi lengua porque solamente hubieran chocado contra la puerta cerrado de tu espalda. tu silencio amuelba una casa oscura. pero aun que riesgo de quemarse, la maripose nocturna siempre busca la luz. (the poet x by elizabeth acevedo)

but if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought. (1984 by george orwell)

but by degrees the flood of music drove all speculations out of his mind. it was as though it were a kind of liquid stuff that poured all over and got mixed up with the sunlight that filtered through the leaves. he stopped thinking and merely felt. the girl's waist in the bend of his arm was soft and warm. he pulled her round so that they were breast to breast; her body seemed to melt into his. wherever his hands moved it was as yielding as water. their mouths clung together. (1984)

but you could not have pure love or pure lust nowadays. no emotion was pure...their embrace had been a battle, the climax a victory. it was a blow struck against the party. it was a political act. (1984) (this quote is so gay lol.)

he did not stir, because julia was sleeping with her head in the crook of his arm. most of her makeup had transferred itself to his own face or bolster, but a light stain of rouge still brought out the beauty of her cheekbone. a yellow ray from the sinking sun fell across the foot of the bed and lighted up the fireplace, where the water in the pan was boiling fast. down in the yard the woman had stopped singing, but the faint shouts of children floated in from the street. he wondered vaguely whether in the abolished past it had been a normal experience to lie in bed like this, in the cool of a summer evening, a man and a woman with no clothes on, making love when they choose, talking of what they choose, not feeling any compulsion to get up, simply lying there and listening to peaceful sounds outside. (1984)

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | read at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVs | judging by the covers or by summaries | rereading or just once

TV AND MOVIES

Favorite TV/Movie Genre: .........ones with actractive actors...

Favorite Movies: pretty woman, muppets from space

Comfort Movie: i don't really watch movies that often lol. i find them hard to get into since they're so short

Movie You Watch Every Year: the year without a santa claus

Favorite TV Shows: supergirl, batwoman, legends of tomorrow, parks and rec, the good place, veronica mars, andi mack, diary of a future president, arthur, word girl, closer to truth, martha speaks, cyberchase, curious george, the king of queens, and probably more that i'm forgetting!

Comfort TV Show: the king of queens, arthur, parks and rec

Most Rewatched TV Show: the king of queens, martha speaks, word girl, cyberchase, parks and rec

Five Favorite Characters:

kara zor-el

veronica mars

leslie knope

zari tomaz

lena luthor

tv shows or movies | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

this was really fun to do fhsdhfkd. tagging anyone who wants to try this!

#tag game

[brain-deadx0]

The Lost Prince

Summary: The kingdom of Elan had once been at peace. It’s said that so long as the royal family lived the land would flourish with them on the throne. But when an unexpected enemy appeared and took the lives of the royal family many stopped believing in the legend. It was simply a ploy by a former ruler to discourage a coup. But some say that the new king sparred the young prince out of fear of the myth, and that one day the true heir would once again take the throne.

CHAPTER 1 (This is basically just a prequel)

Next Chapter

WARNINGS: minor character deaths including children, blood, injury of both people, children and animals (no animal deaths though) some other stuff probably so let me know.

“Awww but we don’t wanna learn stuff.”

”Yeah we’re smart enough!”

The royal tutor rolled his eyes fondly as he dragged the two young boys back to the library. “Is that so?” He asked, “Then can either of you tell me what is required for a new law to be passed in the kingdom?”

”Duh, mom and dad say it can.” The prince told him.

”I’m afraid that is incorrect, your highness.” The tutor informed him, “Do you know the answer?” He asked his own son.

”Obviously,” The boy answered confidently, “it can only be passed after... um...”

”Come on you two,” The tutor smiled, “wether you like it or not you will have school until I deem you educated.”

“Aww.” The boys replied in unison.

“I’ll tell you what,” the tutor said as they entered the library, “if the two of you behave and take your studies seriously today, then tomorrow we can learn about anything you want so long as you both agree on the subject. Deal?”

The two looked at him for a moment before turning away to whisper to each other. The tutor waited patiently as the eight-year-olds put on a show before they turned back to face him. “We’ve discussed it and believe those terms to be acceptable.” The prince told him in what must’ve been his attempt at impersonating his father.

Very few people in Elan had ever actually seen the prince. It was customary that the royal children stay at the castle until their sixteenth birthday when they would be presented to the kingdom. Even their names were kept from the public. The hope was that it would allow them to experience their childhood in both a safe and controlled environment where, at the request of the King and Queen, would be treated almost no differently than any other child.

Of course this didn’t stop some favoritism from a few of the staff or any of the rumors about the princes appearance from happening from time to time. When the castle cook handed out cookies to all the children the prince somehow always managed to get one of the few that had just come out of the oven.

The rumors about the princes appearance varied. And as the tutor watched the two boys pretend not to be sneaking notes to each other between hushed giggles he couldn’t help but think that may be because of one of the children the prince played with. Neither would look much alike if it weren’t for the two both had dark hair and a pair of mismatched eyes.

While the tutors main job was to educate the prince, he also allowed any other children to learn from him as well, as well as the occasional adult though they usually came between work when they had time. Most servants attempted to get their children to take his classes but many of the children were satisfied with knowing basic math and reading before they stopped coming. His own son was not allowed the luxury of coming and going to class as he pleased. He could choose to become the town hermit one day if he wanted but he would at least be an educated hermit. And as much as his son pretended to hate class he knew that both he and the prince enjoyed the company.

”Hey dad?”

“Yes?” The tutor asked as he continued writing on the board.

“We can have a sleepover right?”

“Are you going to stop passing notes?”

“If I say yes do we get to have a sleepover?”

...

“Go to sleep...” The tutor said later that night. The hushed voices from the other bed stopped instantly. Only to be replaced by the telltale sounds of two boys trying to hide their giggles behind their hands.

But his warning seemed to work, and once he heard the soft snoring he let himself relax enough to fall asleep.

Only to be woken up by the guard placed outside his door.

“-s goin’ on?” The prince asked tiredly as the guard frantically knocked on the door.

“It’s alright.” The tutor said calmly as he rushed to open the door, “What is it?” He asked the guard.

“We’re under attack. We need to get the prince out of here, now.” A second guard told him in a hushed tone. The tutor nodded quickly.

“Janus, Virgil come on we have to go.” The tutor told them as he pulled them out of bed. “Why?” Janus asked. “No time to explain, grab some clothes, you can put them on later.” The tutor told them.

“Quickly,” the first guard urged as they ushered the three of them out of the room and down the hall, “we need to get to the stables. We’ll figure our where to go from there.”

As the clanking of armor began to sound behind them the royal tutor grabbed the boy’s hands and pulled them along faster.

“You keep going,” the second guard told him, “I’ll hold them off. If I don’t catch up by the time you make it to the stables just go without me.”

As the two other men rounded the next corner the second guard turned to face the oncoming threat. He could only hope to buy them enough time. Without the king and queen, the kingdoms only hope was that the prince made it out alive.

Once the first soldier appeared he didn’t hesitate. He charged forward, blocking the first soldiers sword and kicking him away. He had just enough time to run his sword through their throat before barely dodging the mace of the soldier behind him. He elbowed the new attacker in the face but found himself grabbed by the front of his collar and thrown down.

The soldier swung his mace.

-

“This way.”

The tutor followed closely behind the remaining guard as he led them towards the stables. “Once we get outside we have to be careful. There won’t be a lot of cover until we make it to the barn.” The guard told them as they neared the exit.

They paused when they reached the door leading outside. The tutor and kids took the opportunity to catch their breath while the guard cautiously opened the door to peer outside.

“Alright,” he started quietly, “if we go left along the side of the building we’ll reach the gardens and can go through there to reach the back of the barn. It’ll more than double the distance but there’s no cover if we do a straight shot.”

“Are you boys ready?” The tutor asked.

Janus and Virgil were still breathing heavily but nodded anyway. “Everything’s gonna be ok.” The tutor reassured them as he grabbed their hands.

Just as they were about to go out the door the faint sound of armor could be heard once again. “Go,” The guard told them, “I’ll buy you some time.” The tutor nodded before pulling the kids out the door.

The guard locked it behind them and stabbed his dagger into the door just above the latch. If nothing else it might give them just a little more time. He took a deep breath before running back the way they came.

-

While they couldn’t see the fire that engulfed the barracks the resulting smoke slowed their pace. The three of them pulled their night shirts over their faces as they ran towards the shelter of the gardens.

They managed to escape detection long enough for the tutor to pull the boys into some of the shrubbery. While they attempted to catch their breath the tutor motioned for the two to get changed.

The tutor strained to hear anything to suggest they were being followed. He jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder but turned to see that it was just Janus letting him know they were dressed.

’Are you ready?’ The tutor mouthed.

The boys nodded.

After one last check the three of them quietly climbed out of the bush and started back toward the stable. The trip seemed to last forever as they paused around every turn to listen just in case any soldiers were searching the garden. The tutor swore his heart stopped every time he thought he heard someone nearby. But eventually he could see the outline of the stable roof come into view.

They cut through the hedge wall as quietly as they could before sprinting the thirty yards of open space to reach the back of the barn. The tutor let go of the boys hands to feel along the wall for the back door. Once he found it he cracked it open.

As far as he could tell the only ones still inside were the horses.

As soon as they were inside he ushered the boys into the tack room. “Stay in here until I get a horse.” He told them, “Everything is gonna be ok.” He embraced the two of them in a tight hug, “When I close the door you lock it, understand? Don’t open it until I say so.” He said as he pulled away. “We won’t. Promise.” Virgil told him.

The tutor grabbed the first bridle he saw before opening the door to leave, “I love you both so much.” The tutor told them before closing the door.

He went to the nearest stall with a horse. The horse, already nervous from the noises and smells coming from outside the barn, was skiddish and began to make noise as the tutor tried to get the bridle on.

“Shhhhh. Shhhh. It’s ok.” The tutor tried. The attempt at soothing didn’t do much to calm the horse but regardless he was eventually able to get the bridle on.

“Virgil, Janus, you can come out now.” He called quietly. After a moment the door to the tack room creaked open and the two cautiously made their way over.

The tutor helped the two onto the horse.

“Virgil take the reigns.” He told the boy.

“What about you?” Janus asked.

“I have to open the door. I’ll get on then, ok?”

Janus nodded hesitantly as Virgil took the reigns.

The tutor slowly let the horse towards the door. His heart pounded in his chest. They were so close. If they could make it out of the barn and past the gates they would be home free.

He braced himself to jump up on the horse before kicking the door open with as much force as he could muster. The door flew open easily but as soon as it opened they were met by several soldiers.

“Go!” The tutor yelled as he smacked the horses backside.

He tackled the nearest soldier to the ground and the horse took off through the opening.

The soldiers were startled but quickly regained their bearings as they registered what happened.

“Don’t let those kids get past the gate!” One of the soldiers yelled. Three of them took off after the horse with their weapons drawn.

The tutor was ripped off the tackled soldier, “Let them be! They’re only servants children!” He begged as he was tossed to the side. “Scullery rats or not, no one is getting out of here till we find the prince. The new king will decide what to do with the rest.” The soldier who grabbed him said.

The tutor took a moment to process the words, “If you intend to kill the royal family then you will doom us all.” He hissed. “Then count yourself lucky to have a quick death here.” The tackled guard told him as he drew his sword.

The tutor sent a silent prayer for the safety of his son and prince before he felt the sword through his chest.

-

The tears gathering in the two boys eyes were only partially due to the smoke around them as they fled.

Janus clung tightly to his friend as the horse ran. They could hear the shouts of soldiers behind them, alerting any others to their escape.

“There’s the gate!” Virgil said aloud when he saw the entrance.

For a brief moment the two thought they might have a chance. But an arrow cut through their hope in an instant.

“Hold on!” Virgil yelled as the horse reared. The moment the arrow pierced the horses shoulder Virgil knew they wouldn’t make it. The horse was too panicked to go on and too injured to move fast enough.

Janus’s scream was the only warning Virgil got before the two of them were pulled off the horse by bruising hands.

Virgil flailed as he tried to get free. Scratching, kicking and biting at anything that came near him. Through his panic, his friend’s terrified tone only made him fight harder. Janus was in danger he had to get to him he had to help they were going to hurt him they would-

“VIRGIL!” Janus screamed when Virgil went limp. “Stars, that kid was feral.” The soldier who had knocked him out said. Janus watched as she seemed to examine his face and eyes before a wide grin broke out on her face.

“

Well what do you know, boys. Dark hair and two different eyes. I think we just found the-“ she paused when she noticed Janus. “What?” The man holding him asked as she approached.

Janus winced as she pulled his head back to meet her eyes.

“Shit.” She said as she looked between Janus and Virgil.

The others gathered close to see what the problem was before noticing Janus’s eyes.

“Are you sure they both have different eyes?” One of the soldiers asked.

“I’m not fucking blind, Jeff.” She snapped, “I know how to tell the difference between two different colors.”

“We’ll sort it out later. Let’s just put them with the rest.” The one holding Virgil told them.

...

When Virgil woke up his head was pounding.

“Virgil?”

He opened his eyes to see Janus looming over him, fear and concern etched into his face. He wasn’t crying anymore but the tear tracks were clear against the soot and ash coating his face.

“Janus? ...What-“

Suddenly everything came back to him. He attempted to sit up before quickly realizing his hands and feet were tied. “It’s ok, it’s ok.” Janus tried when he realized his friends panic.

Virgil looked around frantically to figure out where they were. They were in the hallway just in front of the throne room. Janus’s hands were bound in front of him with rope. As his senses came back he realized that they weren’t alone. They were lined up on the floor with other boys from the castle and being guarded by a few soldiers.

Virgil tried to sit up again but it was nearly impossible with his hands behind his back. Janus was quick to help him up once he realized what his friend was trying to do.

Just as they managed to get Virgil into a sitting position the doors to the throne room opened.

The soldiers guarding them all saluted as a large man appeared. He slowly walked down the line of boys examining them all carefully. Stopping when he reached Virgil and Janus.

-

“I believe we have managed to capture all the young boys as you requested, your Majesty.”

Saul- no. King Saul smiled at the title. After years of gathering followers he finally had a kingdom of his own. Killing the former rulers had been easier than he ever could’ve imagined. The generations of peace had made the royals weak and vulnerable. All he had to do was find the royal brat and his rule would be absolute.

He had thought locating the prince would have been easy. But when it turned out the boy wasn’t in his own chambers the order had been given to gather all the young boys in the castle. Once that happened figuring out which one it was should be easy. After all, how many children had two different colored eyes.

Two apparently.

He stared down at the cowering children. Both matched the rumors of dark hair and different eyes. He took in their appearances. Neither wore fancy clothing.

The one with black hair had one purple eye and one green. His hands were bound behind his back so he must’ve given the ones who captured him some trouble. He attempted to wear a mask of indifference but the shaking and fear in his eyes gave him away.

The other had dark brown hair. Just lighter than the first. His left eye was dark and the hazel of his right looked almost gold in comparison. While he seemed just as terrified as the first, there was a glint of defiance in him.

King Saul drew his sword and pointed it in their direction.

The air around them seemed to still at the action.

“So. Which of you is it?” He asked them.

“L-leave them alone!”

King Saul looked in the direction of the voice. “Who said that?” He demanded.

“I-I did.” An older boy, probably not even fifteen, said after a moment.

King Saul walked over and stood in front of him. “What’s your name, boy?”

The young mans face was hidden behind dark curls as he starred at the floor.

“I said, what’s your name?” King Saul asked again. This time lowering his sword to the kids face.

“...Jeremy.” He strained.

“Tell me Jeremy,” King Saul began, “what gives you the right to give orders to your new king?”

“You aren’t the king.” Jeremy said hesitantly.

“What was that?” King Saul growled as he used the blunt of his sword to force the boy’s head up.

Jeremy shook as his eyes met the mans face. “I-I...” He swallowed, “You aren’t the king.”

King Saul slashed the boy’s throat.

“Anyone else have something to say?” He asked after the first screams stopped.

Silence.

“Now,” He said as he walked back towards the possible princes, “who’s next?”

Neither answered.

King Saul reached down and grabbed one of the children sitting next to them and put his sword to the boy’s throat.

“Wait!” “No!” They yelled.

“If- if I tell you which one of us is the prince...” the one with the golden eye started, “will- will you let everyone else go?”

“I’ll consider it.” King Saul told him, “So you better spit it out before I change my mind.”

The boy nodded weakly before taking a breath, “I am.” He said as he locked eyes with him, “I’m the prince.”

King Saul grinned and tossed boy he had been holding aside. “What’s your name?” He asked as he grabbed the prince by the collar. The other lunged after him but only managed to fall back against the floor. “Leave him alone!” He yelled. The prince seemed to ignore him as he said, “I am Prince Janus Dee Elan. Now let the others go.” The boy glared defiantly.

King Saul laughed, “You aren’t a prince anymore, boy.” He told him, “Kill the rest.” He ordered.

The princes resolve crumbled instantly, “No!” He screamed. King Saul held up a hand to pause the massacre.

“You said you’d let them go!”

“I said I’d consider it.” King Saul told him, “I made no promises.”

“Please! Kill me if you want but let everyone else go.” He begged as tears began to fill his eyes.

King Saul laughed, “I’m not going to kill you.” He told him, “I’m well aware of the curse and don’t intend to rule a land of death. However, I respect your bravery so I’ll make you a deal. You can pick one person in this room to save. In exchange you won’t cause any trouble from now on.”

The boy looked back towards the others, tears freely falling. After a moment he closed his eyes and looked away. He pointed towards the boy with purple and green eyes.

~~~~~~notes~~~~~~

This turned out a bit darker than I planned (though not as dark as I could’ve made it) next chapter will have a big time skip and we get to see what Janus and Virgil have been up to. This is my first fan fiction so let me know what y’all think and I’m open to any advice or constructive criticism (keyword constructive because I am sensitive and just criticism is mean and unhelpful)

#The lost prince #ts #Sanders Sides #wow this first one was a doozy #brain dead writes #first ever fan fic wow #ts spoilers

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS CHAOS LINEAGE | RUKI EUPHORIA END (ENGLISH)

♥ MASTERPOST (CLICK FOR OTHER CHAPTERS) ♥

It’s here! This is the ending you get for Ruki when you’ve chosen all WHITE dialogue options! It’s a lil bit delayed because I had some problems with my laptop... Enjoy!

DO NOT REPOST MY TRANSLATIONS ON TUMBLR OR OTHER PLATFORMS, TRANSLATE MY TRANSLATIONS TO ANOTHER LANGUAGE, OR USE MY TRANSLATIONS IN ANY FORM ELSEWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. IF YOU ARE CONSIDERING DOING ANY OF THESE THINGS, PLEASE ASK FOR MY PERMISSION FIRST.

*Karl Heinz strikes Ruki, and Ruki falls down*

Ruki: [screams]

Yui: [screams]

Karl Heinz: Well then, Eve. Your verdict?

Yui: Ah… I-I’ll… I will... Come with...

Ruki: ...Don’t go...

Yui: Ruki...?

Ruki: If you think my having to let you go is my fate... then... I’ll prove you wrong.

Yui: It’s no use, Ruki, stay down!

Yui: Hold on to me. Please don’t push yourself too far... (There’s so much blood... coming from his hand, there’s no way I can stop the bleeding...)

Ruki: Even at a time like this... When you’re holding me, I feel at ease... I won’t let go of you. I never thought I’d be apologising to you at a time and place like this...

Yui: I don’t... I don’t want to let you go either. And I don’t want you to apologise. 

Ruki: Then... It’s fine...

Yui: Ruki...

***

EXTRA AUDIO: TOUCH THE SPOTS ON THE SCREEN

(Yui’s mouth) This might be the last time, so please, don’t cry, but smile for me.

(Ruki’s chest) I love you. Even if my body is destroyed, my soul will live on inside of you forever.

***

Ruki: Heh, don’t cry. Smile for me.

Yui: (Ruki’s large hand is brushing away my tears. Oh, the hands I love so much...)

Ruki: Yui... I’m grateful that you’ve chosen me...

Yui: There’s no need to thank me. It’s just... I fell in love with you, is all. And you fell in love with me. That’s all there is to it. It has nothing to do with forgiveness, or my choice... 

Ruki: I see... Thank you...

Ruki: I love you—[kisses]

Yui: [kisses back] (I can taste his blood...) (But I’m happy. For staying by my side and touching my heart—I’m happy.)

*god-awful high-pitched sound, light starts glowing*

Yui: Huh?

*screen fades to white*

Yui: [screams]

Ruki: What is this...!?

Yui: (Everything around me is lighting up... It’s so bright.)

Ruki: Is the church collapsing? No... Is this entire space collapsing?

Yui: Why...

Ruki: I don’t know... But don’t let go of me.

Yui: Okay. I won’t let go, no matter what happens. (The light is becoming brighter and brighter. My conscience... is fading...)

-LOCATION: SECRET ROOM, INTERIOR LIGHT-

Yui: Nn... Where am I... (This isn’t the church. It’s a room somewhere...?

Ruki: [getting up]

Yui: Ruki!

Ruki: ...It seems like we were dropped somewhere.

Yui: Huh... Ruki, your body...?

Ruki: Yeah, I’m not in pain anymore. The wounds have disappeared nicely. Somehow, it seems like the God of Death resents me. We’ve only narrowly escaped death, haven’t we...

Yui: [crying] I’m glad... I’m so glad. I thought we were going to die just now...

Ruki: You’re still crying? Besides, dare I say the one who healed my wounds was...

Karl Heinz: I see you’ve woken up.

Yui: ...!

Ruki: Lord Karl Heinz...

Karl Heinz: We’re in the Castle of Eden. This room is usually inaccessible. 

Yui: Did you... get us out of that place?

Karl Heinz: I suppose so.  The Sleeping Beauty wakes up by the powers of a kiss. I saw feelings of love between the two of you that align with that legend.  You woke up as a result of that kiss. Not just you, but also all the others. 

Yui: Oh... (...! Everyone’s here!)

Karl Heinz: They’ve just fainted. I’ve restored their memories. They’ll wake up as the same old persons they were.

Ruki: Why...? I defied you. I even rejected your proposal to hand over Eve to you. Under no circumstances can I accept your gracious forgiveness...

Karl Heinz: You defied me, but you chose her. That is true love at its finest. It is exactly what I wanted to see. If you really did not wish for Eve to be taken away, please accept that. Even if you’re in denial about certain things. Ruki, you’re a smart boy. You know the meaning of that, right?

Ruki: ...Yes. Even if anyone gets in my way... And even if that is you, for example. I will not let her go.

Karl Heinz: ...You seem to have come to terms with it. I thought one of my sons would become Adam sooner or later. However, the future is always unknown. A future that only I could not see yet. A future in which the one standing next to Eve could possibly be—

*Karl Heinz disappears* 

Yui: Ah, Karl Heinz! He disappeared...

Ruki: It seems that somehow everything has turned out alright, even though I haven’t even apologised yet... No, it’s been that way all along... If anyone ever tried, I would never have let you go.

Yui: Yeah...

Ruki: I thought I didn’t have the qualifications to be the one by Eve’s side. However, let’s just be done with that now. The only one that can stand by your side is me.

Yui: Of course. You’re the only one I’d want by my side, after all.

Ruki: Yeah. I understand. So, this is the end of the trial. Let’s wake up the others and go home... To the Mukami mansion.

Yui: Yes!

MONOLOGUE

The sandbox world that tested the love of Adam and Eve. Several days after we’d been removed from that place, we fell back into our unchanged daily life.

It seemed like somehow, the Sakamakis and the First Bloods also each returned to their usual way of life.

However, Kino is the only one whose whereabouts I don’t know... Our connection, if any, might be that we might have met somewhere along the way. 

The memories of our days in the sandbox world slowly disappeared into nothingness. 

-LOCATION: MUKAMI MANSION-

Yuma: Ah, my meat! Don’t go takin’ it like that!

Kou: But you had too much! Bon appétit!

Azusa: Then, can I also...

Yuma: I don’t have too much! Don’t take ‘em from my plate!

Ruki: Settle down, you three. Keep in mind that there’s a word called ‘manners’.

Yui: Hehe, you’re all eating so much today, I feel like helping out in the kitchen too!

Ruki: I said I’d do it, so you could just stay put and not overexert yourself, you know?

Yui: I’m not overexerting myself, really. I just like being able to cook with you. 

Ruki: If that’s alright with you...

Azusa: Somehow, Eve and Ruki... Seem to be getting along better than before.

Kou: I know, right! They’re showing it off so much I’m starting to get fed up with it. 

Yuma: Y’all should just get married already.

Yui: Wha...! W-why that all of a sudden?

Ruki: If you say she’s paying mind to me so much, you guys ought to help me around the house a bit more too.  We’re too busy looking after you all to have time for anything else.

Azusa: So you mean... If we help you out, you could become Eve’s husband whenever?

Ruki: Who says I’m becoming a husband? That one over there is becoming my wife.

Yui: What!?

Ruki: What? This time around, I won’t accept any objections, you know.

Yui: T-that’s not it, but... (I wouldn’t have thought Ruki would play along...)

Kou: And this is where it’s starting to get TMI... I’m retreating. Thanks for the meal!

Azusa: Well... then, so will I.

Yuma: Welp. At least I’ll give y’all my best wishes.

Yui: Ah, w-wait, you guys!?

Ruki: Well, there they go. Goodness... I always tell them to put their own plates in the kitchen, but...

Yui: I think it’s because you surprised everyone so much, everyone withdrew? I might have been the most surprised...

Ruki: About what? ...Ah, about making you my wife? It’s no big deal, right? We’re both on the same page.

Yui: (He’s decided we’re both on the same page!) (That, or Ruki has become a lot more positive ever since we got out of the sandbox world...) (This is not because of me, is it?)

Ruki: Hey, look at me.

Yui: Hm? What is it?

Ruki: [kisses Yui]

Yui: [kisses back, surprised] Ah... W-why so suddenly?

Ruki: I suppose you don’t know realise much about this whole situation yet. I just thought I’d bring it home to you.

Yui: B-bring it home to me...? You’re being so restless...

Ruki: There’s no mistaking it, right? Do you realise how seriously I’m confronting you right now?

Yui: Huh...?

Ruki: Up to now, I never intended to let you go, even if I didn’t meet the qualifications to be with you. I repeatedly broke the rules, and it never stopped me from running away with you either... However, this time, it’s different.

Yui: Is it?

Ruki: Yeah. I won’t run anymore. I feel no hesitation or guilt when it comes to loving you.

*Ruki embraces Yui*

Ruki: Whether anyone disagrees or praises us, it doesn’t matter to me. I won’t let go of you. That’s what I decided when we were in that sandbox world.

Yui: Ruki...

Ruki: Rather than considering your approval, it’s not like you can run away anymore, right?

Yui: ...Yeah. I won’t run, you know? I’ll be by your side forever. Hehe, when I’m saying it like that, it sounds like I might as well become your wife, right? Being able to be by your side forever, and all. Hey, Ruki. All of this Adam and Eve stuff aside— I love you, Ruki. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. 

Ruki: Yes. Me too. Even if it’s God’s will to tear us apart, we’ll fight it.  I’ll cherish these feelings of love for you, and only you, for all eternity—[kisses]

EUPHORIA END

#diahell #dialovers #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers translations #diabolik lovers fanfiction #diabolik lovers scenarios #diabolik lovers chaos lineage #diabolik lovers scenario #mukami ruki #ruki mukam #mukami #chaos lineage #japanese translation #japanese translations #diabolik lovers games #game translations #otome game translations #otome #game translation #otome translation #otome translations #otomehonyaku #otaku #dlclruki #my translations #visual novel translations #visual novel

[earthseaborealis]

New Traditions and Worlds

My @homestuckss gift for @dykeiatrist ! I used “Davekat,” “Jane,” and “Hurt/Comfort” (with a bit of DirkJake) to create a cute little holiday fic! Hope you enjoy it :D Have a wonderful holiday season!!

Also on ao3 (@detective_in_space if the link doesn’t work!)

“Twas the week before Christmas,” Dave started before pausing, “Yo Rox, what’s somethin’ that rhymes with Christmas?”

“Ass? Wait, no, no that doesn’t work… Christmas…” Roxy muttered, “Okay so, like, the only thing I’ve got is Christmas, but you absolutely cannot rhyme ‘Christmas’ with ‘Christmas,’ right?”

“You’re definitely right,” Dave sighed as he scratched out the words in his notebook, “Dude, like absolutely nothin’ rhymes with Christmas words.”

Roxy moved over and rested their hand on his shoulder, “Karkat will appreciate the thought at least. Hey, there are other things than Christmas raps, like festive interpretive dances! Or Festive slam poetry?”

“Well, duh, it’s Karkat we’re talkin’ bout,” Dave laughed, but in his defense, it was true. Karkat would yell and insist that he hated Dave’s most ‘ironic’ gifts, but there was a certain fondness in his tone. Like it was just a whole elaborate game. The edges of Karkat’s eyes would wrinkle as his lips curled into a small grin. A small chuckle would escape, which Dave would obviously point out, and in response, Karkat would punch him (before wrapping him in a hug). Oh god, that was the best… 

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Roxy interrupted, as they lightly hit the side of Dave’s head, “Did ya invite me over here just to fall asleep?”

“Nah dawg, I was just thinkin’ about the usual,” Dave brushed their hand aside. 

“So,” Roxy drawled, “Karkat?” Roxy wiggled their eyebrows at Dave. 

“No,” Dave exclaimed, “Fuck, I mean, no. Hey, do ya know any, like, traditions that people do for Christmas and all that jazz.” Now that was a smooth change of topics. 

“Smooth like a baby’s bottom,” Roxy laughed, “But, nah. I didn’t even know Christmas was like a real thing… thought it was an urban myth or something.” Oh, right. Roxy lived in some highly-futuristic society that was enslaved by a fish bitch, but there was none of that oppressive dictatorship on Earth C. Trolls, Carpacians, Humans, and well, any other species were free to chill by the fire and enjoy whatever holiday they wanted. Now that, was what sweet, sweet democracy was about (preach Obama). 

“Lit, lovin’ that we’re both oblivious of any cultural traditions… hey, you think one of the Crocker-Harley-English… berts... would know more about this? I’m feelin’ like they’d be all up in that shit,” Dave said, “Oh fuck, I’m so smart. That’s like totally their thing.”

After quickly picking up all his stuff and saying goodbye to Roxy, Dave picked up his phone and dialed Jane Crocker, the holiday expert, on his way home. Wait, oh fuck, what if she was busy? It’s not like he usually talked to her, so was it out of the question? Oh no, maybe he should’ve just texted John...

The phone picked up, “Hello, Jane Crocker speaking?”

“Oh… oh! Hey Jane, it’s Dave… ya know… Dirk’s cooler bro,” Dave started. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and kicked a stray pebble on the sidewalk. Yes, he could be floating around, but exercise was important. 

“Well, howdy there Dave. It’s been a while since we’ve talked, hasn’t it,” she chuckled, “Anyways, did you need anything?”

“So, like, Rox and I were talkin’ about Christmas and stuff… and well, we’re both dumb and have no idea what people actually do for it, so I thought you might be the expert on the subject? Because it totally seems like it’d be up your ally,” Dave rambled on. 

“Well golly, I’m flattered. It’s been a while since I’ve actually celebrated the holiday, but of course, I’ll help you! Before the game, my father and I had so much fun celebrating… let’s see… Well, I’m sure you already know this, but we’d go out to a farm together and pick out a tree. I’d always search for the fattest tree, and my father would help me cut it down. And then we’d go get Hot Cocoa and pick out ornaments together, and well, oh sorry, I’ve gotten a bit off-topic, haven’t I,” Jane apologized.

“No, no! You’re literally the best… lemme just get a piece of paper to write this on,” Dave fumbled around his captchalogue, and pulled out an old notebook (of course, with Obama on the cover). “Okay cool, I got one, hit me with all that sweet, sweet info.”

“Alright… let’s see, what else… oh, well after we decorated the tree, we’d make and frost sugar cookies and cakes together. Oh! Karkat and you are welcome to come over together sometime and make cookies with me if you’d like,” Jane offered. Hell yeah, she was a literal legend. Roxy and Dirk had the best friends. 

“Yeah, dog, we’d love to! I’ll hit you up with a date once Karkat checks the calendar. You know him and… schedulin’,” Dave said as he continued to write down Jane’s suggestions. 

Jane chuckled, “Sounds good… and one more thing… My father and I would always put cheesy Christmas music on. That was the best… we’d make absolute fools out of ourselves, but it was so much fun. Literally, we’d just dance around and belt the lyrics… those we’re the days,” Jane’s voice started to crack… fuck… had Dave made her cry? “Sorry…” she continued, “I don’t mean to be so emotional. Oh lord, I’m sorry. I… I hope I helped you a bit, and just, feel free to come over whenever for cookies…” 

“Fuck, no,” Dave searched his brain… what would Karkat say… “Sorry for bringin’ up those memories. I know it sucks and all. I’ll give you some time and just hit you up later.” 

“Yes, that’d be great… see you later then,” Jane said as she hung up. 

Well, shit, Dave had already made one person cry and it was only 11 a.m. Maybe Christmas was just an emotional time and stuff. Jane was cool, though, so he hoped that she was okay. Plus, she gave him some kickass advice, and he was so ready to get his holiday spirit on. 

The rest of the walk to his place was boring. Dave tried to come up with some more sick raps for his Christmas album, featuring the new and improved version of “Jingle Bells.” The air was crisp and way too cold for Dave’s Texan roots (he blamed John for the freezing wind), so he was thankful when he finally reached the door. 

“Yo, Karkat, I’m home, and I come with words of wisdom from the one and only Jane Crocker herself,” Dave announced as he closed the door behind him. He attempted to throw his coat and hang it up, but it fell clumsily to the floor. He shrugged it off and continued through the cozy lil’ condo, finding his way into the kitchen, where he found Karkat doing a load of laundry. Yes, the washing machine and dryer were in the kitchen… it was only the most ironic, British mom location for them. Dave, being the coolest man to ever exist, ran up to Karkat and hugged him from behind. 

“Jesus fucking shit Dave! Are you trying to give me a blood pusher attack?” Karkat screeched as he jumped like fifty feet in the air (okay maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it basically happened). 

“Nah dude, you wouldn’t dare be all anime protagonist on me and faint. Like, imagine me runnin’ to cradle you in my arms while you murmur ‘I’m goin’ to have to kawaii the shit out of your desu.’ Literally, imagine that” Dave rambled. 

Karkat groaned at this, “Stop spending time with Dirk. You’re turning into a shitty weeb Karkat said as he pushed Dave away. 

“I can’t help it… it’s who I am,” Dave clutched yo his chest and fell to the ground, pulling the other boy down with him. Karkat’s words. The worst weapon of all. 

“I’m going to go live with Kanaya and Rose,” Karkat grumbled, falling to the ground as dramatically as possible (making sure to land on Dave with as much force as possible). 

“Like you’d do that,” Dave scoffed, “She’s worse than me. Plus, is you did, we couldn’t be all romantic and celebrate human holidays together. C’mon dude, we gotta act like a high school couple. Get all up in each other’s space and kiss under the mistletoe. Oh, speakin’ of that! I talked to Jane, who is literally the best, and she was like ‘oh Dave! Check out this super lit tradition I did back on the o.g. Earth. Like, you get to cut down a tree and decorate with the most ironic ornaments.’” 

“Sound detrimental to the environment and a waste of time. What’s the point of celebrating a fucking tree,” Karkat asked.

“Dude, it’s a pine tree, which is superior to all other trees. Besides,  it’s about family and friends. I mean, I never celebrated Christmas with Bro, but you can’t just diss Karen like that,” Dave said, using his best white mom voice. 

“Fine whatever. I’ll celebrate your dumb human holiday, but I call picking out the decorations,” Karkat bargained as he stood up and dusted off his pants (getting rid of Dave’s germs).

“Hell yeah, deal! Get your coat on, we’re gonna get a tree and bring it in our house,” Dave exclaimed, quickly getting off the ground. 

The boys quickly got ready and we’re out the door, hopping into their car. Dave has gotten it because well, basically of all Karkat and his friends could fly. He has listened to Karkat’s complaining enough and invested in an older, used minivan. And man, did he love the thing. Hey, maybe he’d become a car person after the holidays were over. 

Dave was about to drive to the nearest park with a saw, but Karkat demanded that he call and ask Jane first. Jane recommended a small farm in the middle of nowhere, and with the use of a GPS, they eventually found their way there (after a few hours of trial and error).

“Jane said that fat trees were better, but honestly, I’m lovin’ this tall ass one right here. I mean look at it. It’s taller than the Empire State Buildin’… wait, is that still a thing? Like an Earth C Empire State Buildin’?” In Dave’s defense, it was a totally valid question. Like, did Earth C have the same seven wonders of the world? Who knew. 

“Shut the fuck up. We’re here for a tree, not imperialism,” Karkat groaned, “And besides, our house isn’t big enough for that.”

“But Karkat, the economy,” Dave whined, “But like, what about this tiny one… it reminds me of you, short stacks.”

Karkat shoved him, “And the other reminds me of your flat ass.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment… since you're lookin’ at my ass and all,” Dave pulled down his Stiller shades and winked.

“Shut up, you fucking twink. Let’s just celebrate your weird human holidays and get the tree,” Karkat grumbled as he attempted to pick up the tree. 

Dave doubled over laughing as he watched the 5’3 troll struggle, but once Karkat shot him an angry glare, he rushed over to aid him (with his huge muscles, of course). “Nice, I can feel it pokin’ me through my mittens. Ten out of ten would recommend.”

After endless trial and error, the pair managed to carry the tree to the register and on top of their car, a red minivan that Dave had picked out.

“So,” Karkat started, “We just put a tree in our block and decorate it? And then some creepy old man flies around the world and gives presents to children by putting them under the tree?” His eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to understand human traditions.

“Dude, I can’t even explain it. Humans can come up with some weird shit when they put their minds to it,” Dave laughed. The rest of the car ride consisted of Karkat rambling about trollian traditions. Their hands managed to find one another and rest comfortably on the center console (Dave, of course, kept one hand on the steering wheel at all times… hey, safety is important). 

Their next stop was the local hardware store. It was owned by a sweet, older Carpacian. In all honesty, she reminded Dave of the Mayor… a kindred spirit whose goal in life was to just lead and help make others happy. She made the place seem like the opposite of a place to buy tools. The place was decorated with festive garlands and cheery music rang through the air. Dave waved at her as the pair walked towards the Christmas section.

“So,” Dave drawled, “What kind of ornaments are we lookin’ for? Personally, I wanna find a dick shaped one… for the memories of cockscotch. Bless that game.”

“This is a family store, dick-muncher! And we’re getting triple-f ornaments! Family fucking friendly!” Karkat screeched, marching ahead (but not before grabbing Dave’s hand and pulling him along). 

“Fine, fine, I get it… gotta make our house grub friendly, for when John comes over,” Dave snickered as they walked the ornaments aisle. Who knew there were so many different variations in fucking decorations? You had some for your Karens, poor college students, newlyweds, too many to count. Karkat busied himself with the… glass ball? Well, whatever that kind of ornament was called. 

“These are nice,” Karkat noted, showing Dave a set of jade glass baubles (haha, like Kanaya).

“But like, dude, they’re so borin’,” Dave whined, “We gotta spruce this tree up… get it? Spruce is a kind of tree.” Dave chuckled at his own dad joke. Shit, he was hilarious. 

“Hey, I’m just trying to make this actually look nice. We’ll get other colors too, and “spruce” it up, as you say,” Karkat said as he went back to check out the boring ornaments. Dave, on the other hand, went to look at the children’s ornaments on the other side of the aisle. Most of them were new pop culture things that Dave didn’t recognize (God was he growing old). However, there were a few that grabbed his attention, and obviously, he was gonna have to show these to Karkat. 

“Yo, dawg. Check out these cool little fuckers. They’ll make our tree look mads cool,” Dave opened his hands to reveal a bunch of little crab ornaments. They were cute and not boring glass balls. Plus, crabs were like Karkat’s thing… he’d definitely appreciate them.

“Crustaceans? Don’t you just know the way to my blood pusher,” Karkat rolled his eyes, “Just put them in the basket before I change my mind.”

Dave threw his fist in the air and gave Karkat a side hug, “Hell yeah, you won’t regret this. We gonna get so festive up in this joint. All the moms will be beggin’ to check out the coolest tree in the neighborhood, which if ya didn’t catch on, will be ours.”

“You got me. I’m only doing this to make Carol jealous. She fucking deserves it,” Karkat chuckled. Yes, Dave knew he was doing swell when he made Karkat laugh. If only he could give himself a, well earned, golden star. 

“Dude yes, I fuckin’ hate Carol. C’mon, let’s get more lights. We gotta make this flashy and blow a fuse, speakin’ of which… do you know how to fix a broken fuse? Because I do not wanna call Dirk over to fix it for us. He’ll be like ‘Dave, I’m just tryin’ to celebrate the holidays with my darlin’ boyfriend… have I mentioned Jake’s ass? Damn, lemme just rant about that and never actually fix your broken utilities.’ Can you imagine the pain, Karkat,” Dave lamented? He loved his brother, don’t get him wrong, but he did not want to mess with Dirk this close to the holiday season. 

“I can, actually. Remember what happened the week before Jake’s birthday? Dirk is batshit crazy, but he gets it from you,” Karkat smirked as Dave feigned an offended expression, “Now, can we stop talking about his love life and actually pick out some decorations?”

The pair still had one more destination before they could go home and relax, maybe even decorate the tree… but knowing themselves, they’d probably wait until Christmas Eve to put the new lights and ornaments up. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m so glad you two could make it,” Jane said as she opened the door, “I’ve already got everything out, so all we have to do is bake and decorate cookies… and perhaps eat a bit of dough.” She ushered the two inside. 

“Hell yeah, you’re the best Janey,” Dave said as the pair put away their coats and walked to the kitchen with Jane. Everything was so clean, especially when compared to their house. Karkat would always fuss about his habits, but Dave felt a sort of comfort in the messiness. So what if there were shirts thrown on the floor and an unorganized stack of papers on the kitchen table. It built… character. 

“I’ve never had what you humans call ‘cookies,’ but thank you for having us,” Karkat added. 

“Oh please, it’s no problem. I love baking, and I especially love helping people get into the holiday spirit,” Jane said. The trio fell into a simple routine once Jane showed them the recipe, helping the two boys when need be. Dave filled the silence by rambling under his breath about whatever he deemed important, while Karkat concentrated on making his cookies perfect. 

“Hey look,” Dave exclaimed while holding up one of his doughy creations, “It’s a Karkat angel! A Kar-Angel… a Karkat Van-Angel!” His cookies were shaped into gingerbread men with nubby horns and an uncharacteristic smile. 

“And I made a Dave-Cookie… oh wait, it’s just a blob of dough, my fucking bad,” Karkat retorted, going back to rolling out his dough. 

It was a long process, but after a few hours, the boys had successfully made their first batch of Christmas sugar cookies. A few of the cookies weren’t burnt on the edges, but they were delicious nonetheless. Jane demanded that the pair take home their creations, as she didn’t have enough room in her cabinets for more holiday desserts. 

“Goodness, thank you so much for coming over and making sugar cookies! I haven’t had this much fun since… well, it’s been a while. Feel free to come by and help me whenever you all would like,” Jane chirped. 

“Of course, Janey,” Dave replied, “You best bet we’ll be back for some more goodies! Gotta get my housewife on. I can’t be accidentally poisoning Karkat with some undercooked cake.” 

“You’ve poisoned me with every meal of your’s, except the Kraft Mac and Cheese, but only because Roxy helped you,” Karkat spat. 

“Oh well, we certainly can’t have that. I’ll be seeing you both again soon then. Have a Merry Christmas and a wonderful new year!”

It was dark by the time they were home. Karkat and Dave both felt the sleepiness enter the body, as they kept yawning. It was too late to decorate the tree, so it was leaned against a corner. The pair immediately plopped down onto the couch and put on a holiday classic, Tim Allen’s “The Santa Clause,” which Dave argued was the best Christmas movie known to mankind, trollkind, and carpaciankind alike. 

“Y’know, I never imagined that I would celebrate Christmas. Like, dude, that shit was mads uncool,” Dave said out of the blue, interrupting the beautiful sound of Tim Allen interacting with CGI reindeers and kidnapped children.

Karkat groaned, “Well, me either, yet here I am, celebrating a dumb holiday for dumb human grubs.” He was just trying to enjoy this wonderful holiday film, but with Dave, silence didn’t last long. In a way, it provided comfort to the pair. He knew that Dave absolutely hated the silence, as it reminded him of his Bro. For Karkat, Dave’s endless rambling allowed him to take his mind off of his worries. It was an odd relationship, one that had taken years to achieve, but here they were… they had made it, yet Karkat knew there were still shaky moments for the two of them. Like now, for example. The pair both would jump around certain barriers, trying desperately to aid one another, while still attempting to not dig too deep. 

Dave rested his head upon Karkat’s thighs and snuggled into the pile of blankets, reminding him of their time on the meteor, “Y’know, I wouldn’t have this whole thing any other way. ‘M glad my first Christmas is with you, instead of Bro.” His words are slurred together and slightly muffled, and Karkat can’t help the stupid ass blush that creeps onto his face at the sound of them. 

“Fuck that guy,” Karkat spits. After a moment, he starts again, this time with a gentler tone, “And it’s nice to have you here too, no matter how fucking dumb your endless rants may be.”

Dave could almost hear Dirk whispering “Tsundere” in his ear as he chuckled, “Awe, love you too, KitKat.” He sits back up, nearly smacking the top of his head into Karkat’s jaw. He looks away for a second, briefly hesitating, then leans in, closing the distance between the pair. It’s just a brief peck, but it leaves the two of them speechless. Dave looks at Karkat through his shades. A light brush coated his cheeks and his lips curled into a small grin. 

Karkat pulls Dave into his side and looks towards the corner of the living room, where their small, fat tree is leaning against the wall. It was empty and in desperate need of attention (aka Crustacean ornaments). Filled with a sudden burst of energy, he paused the movie and stood up, pulling Dave with him, “Get off your lazy ass and get fucking festive. We have a tree to decorate.”

#hsss2019 #homestuckss #dykeiatrist #homestuck #pesterquest #hiveswap #karkat vantas #dave strider #davekat #jane crocker

[the-unknown-storyteller]

Graceless Friends

(Universe by @linkeduniverse)

(Loosely inspired by this ask by @awesomeunicat and What is this, Peter Pan? by @inked-myths )

(abbreviated: "Wild is a lab experiment"; "Wild and Shadow are friends")

Warning: Major Character Deaths, Blood

Summary: Wild is tired of losing people dear to him. He will go to all lengths possible, making sure that can't happen with his next family.

If it costs him his sanity, that's just a small price to pay.

_

"How come I never see you treating your wounds? Actually, I've never seen you with bandages or even a potion for that matter," Legends says, wrapping his own clawed up leg tight. He doesn't want to see any lizalfos at least for the rest of today.

Finished with the treatment he looks back up and sees Wild sit down next to him. He's surprisingly calm for someone whose left arm is still bleeding from a cut that goes all the way down from his shoulder to his elbow, bits of flesh just hanging of. Blood soaks into his cloak that's already wet with even more blood. This guy, seriously.

"That's probably because I don't need it," Wild replies, looking at his wound with a - for Legend- confusing expression of tired annoyance. "I mean, why carry around a bag filled with fragile glass bottles and some useless strips of cloth when Mipha can heal me without." His small frown that follows goes unnoticed.

"Mipha?" A puzzled look crosses Legend's face.

"She was a… dear friend of mine," Wild says. He watches, as tendrils of the faintest blue, barely noticeable, wrap around his injured arm, winding up and over themselves. The exposed flesh slowly pieces itself back together, skin pulls itself over open wounds, leaving hardly any scarring.

Legend gives a low whistle. "How efficient. Creepy and impossible, but at least practical."

Wild searches for something in Legend before he replies with a tired smile, "Sure. Practical."

_

"You were right, Legend. How very practical," Wild snarls, closing his friend's milky eyes with trembling hands. He moves them away and grips his cloak, searching for something to hold on to. He feels more than a little uncomfortable in his clothes right now. They're wet with blood that is not his own.

His eyes travel down his body, as he lets his head hang low, unable to contain the tears. They stop at the hole ripped into his tunic. Wild glares at the new scar marring his chest, sight obscured by the blurring of his tears. I was supposed to go with them. He looks away in disgust and stands up from his position on the ground.

He gazes across the field, taking in the sight of it all. Over there, several arrows are stuck in a tree, pinning a light blue piece of bloodied fabric to the bark. Not too far away from it lays a sword broken in two on the ground, the crystal embedded in the hilt split in four.

A sail cloth was ripped into infinitely small pieces and thrown to the ground. Once a brilliant white with beautiful accents of blue, now tarnished by irregular flecks of dark red and dirty brown. There are crumbled up bits of dried flowers strewn all over the grass. They lead to a small leather bag laying forgotten beneath a bush. There's something else beneath there as well. Something that was once just as alive as those flowers.

Curiously enough, a broken ocarina sits on the terrain next to a massive sword, half stuck in the ground. Only one of them fits into the scene, really.

Wild looks at the vibrant blue scarf stuck in a tree with a detached kind of expression. When he catches a glimpse of black and silver fur, though, he can't help but let his breakfast see daylight again. He stumbles over to the fur coat and falls to his knees.

"Twi?", Wild whimpers, reaching for a hand that's so cold too cold I don't want this please bring him back bring all of them back at least take me with them. Panic flutters in his chest. Everything feels so distant, but too close at the same time.

He rummages with frantic movements in his bag, but only comes forth with a cut on his hand instead of something to heal the massive hole in Twilight's right side. Blood flows his arm, disgustingly warm and alive, and Wild breaks down. Sobs shake his body, as he grips his mentor's tightly. Unwilling screams rip through his throat, they take his breath away. He wishes it would stay away.

He's just so tired. But he knows that sleep will never come for him. I was supposed to go with them.

Wild gathers up his sword, his shield and his half-torn cloak. Taking a look at his friends - his soul feels like it's breaking apart - he knows that he can't just leave them here like this. It would be disrespectful and unjust. They should be given a proper buri... He sets his belongings down on the ground again. A few taps on his Shieka Slate reveal a rusty shovel and several sheets of white linen.

At the end of it all, he can't tell if his arms are shaking from exhaustion, grief or the sobs that are still wrecking through his body. It doesn't matter anyway. He collects his things and walks away from his family's grave with unsteady steps.

As Wild walks up a hill, away from that clearing in the woods, he wonders with numb curiosity why only he's been gifted this power. This power to defy death, time and time again until his mind falls apart while his body doesn't. He's tired, just so incredibly tired and all he wants to do is sleep. People are scared of death, but he isn't. He's lost that primal fear a long time ago and he wants it back. He wants to feel human again, not like a cracked shell of a being that once must have been alive.

The shell is all that's left and even that is slowly crumbling away with every piece that falls off along the way. Sooner or later, Wild's body will fall apart. Hylia knows how badly he wants that to happen. Until then, he has to go on and set one foot in front of the other.

_

A nameless traveller trots along a row of trees and rocks, his steady steed unfazed by the rain. They raise their head to the sky with its dark and looming clouds, realising that this downpour won't stop for a few hours at least. A resigned sigh leaves their lips, as they hold up their oil lamp to try and see better.

After a while a distant flicker of what must be another person's lamp catches their attention. Leaning forward in their saddle, they can make out something far away if they really try and maybe strain their eyes a bit. The distance between them is slowly decreasing, so the nameless traveller can soon make out more than just a faint shadow.

They are met with the sight of young man with golden hair trudging along the muddied path, rain pelting down on his lowered head. His clothes, that show dark patches of what looks like dirt in the lamp's shallow light, cling to his body. He looks much too thin and fragile for someone carrying such an enormous sword on his back. The torn royal blue scarf wrapped around his neck doesn't really appear to ward of the gruesome cold of the night, yet the young man doesn't seem to mind.

The mismatched set of necklaces on his chest - one a delicate butterfly, the other an ocarina - intrigue the nameless traveller greatly, but before he can analyse this very interesting person any further, they've already passed each other. They turn around in their saddle, objecting their spine to a very uncomfortable position, trying to catch a last glimpse of this mysterious young man, but the rain and the low light don't help all that much.

They let out a disappointed sigh, not even knowing that the boy is also carrying around a piece of fur, that looks very much out of place, and a sail cloth hanging out from a leather bag that is infinitely deep. They also didn't have the time to notice the second oil lamp hanging from his belt. They will never know about any of those things or where they come from.

No, instead they pet the mane of their trusty steed, already thinking about their family at home waiting for them, surely with a hot bowl of soup sitting on his spot at the table, ready to warm his cold hands and bones.

_

Night turns to day and Wild looks up to see the gate sign above him that announces he's about to enter Hateno Village. He must have changed Hyrules last night without noticing, he is sure he was heading towards Ordon Village. Wild wipes last night's rain from his face, gets his hair out of his eyes and goes on, heading for a house the furthest away from the core part of this small, yet very inviting village.

The whole way there he doesn't look up, even as he can hear the people talk around and about him.

"Is that Link? What happened to him, why does he look so… strange and beaten up? Do you think everything's alright with him?"

"Oh, don't worry, this isn't the first time he's shown up like this. Give him a day and he'll go right back to climbing our apple trees and sneaking them to our horses. He may not look like it, but he's a very strong young man."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Azule. I'm talking about the way his eyes look dull even from this far away. And look at all those shredded pieces of mismatched clothing! They don't even look like they belong to him. You can't tell me that this was just another encounter with a mob of bokoblin or whatever. Something is clearly wrong.

Why is he alone today? Where is that little group of his, anyway?"

_

Since I don't want to risk that I hit the 100 text block limit with this fic (I don't want this to become as chaotic as "We are Four"), I decided to make it a two-parter. Sorry about that.

#addison writes #graceless friends #linkeduniverse #linked universe #hero of the wild #tw major character deaths #tw blood #tw major character death

[gibmb]

heir to the horde ch 5 Heirs Come Home

Hordak had been pacing in the lab, his thoughts racing through all the possibilities. At first he had been working on some of the projects he and Entrapta had started, but after several hours had passed, his mind had been too preoccupied to focus on the projects. So he wandered through the castle distractedly. He had no worries of the staff seeing him, most of them already knew he was alive after some unwelcome intrusions into their lab and bedroom. He frowned, remembering some of those moments, as one of said servants walked by him with a smile. 

“Good afternoon, my lord,” she greeted in passing, but paused when noticing he seemed lost in thought. “Is everything alright, Sir? The lady didn't build another robot double did she?” 

Hordak stopped as his train of thought was interrupted. He looked to the servant looking her up and down before sighing. “No, she has not made another robot double.” Hordak knew this servant, she was the first to discover he lived. Her reaction to it had been quite enjoyable, seeing the terror she showed. But since the years passing she had grown accustomed to him, just as she and the other servants grew accustomed to knocking. Hordak thought for a moment on whether to ask her, before deciding it best to at least check. “Have you heard any news on Entrapta?” Hordak watched as the servant thought for a moment before shaking her head. 

“I’m sorry my lord, but no. From what I do know something exciting occured at the meeting, which is why she was delayed,” the servant said before Hordak dismissed her. He returned to the lab. It wasn't much information, but for some reason exciting and Entrapta calmed him a little. At worst the portal sent a princess to the other side of the world, or even another dimension. The idea of that made him smile sinisterly. “With any luck it was Adora or Angela,”  he muttered to himself. As he thought to himself, the proximity alert went off in the lab to warn him and Entrapta that they had guests. Hordak checked the monitor amd saw Entrapta, which allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief, before he noticed Catra and Scorpia with her. He scowled at the sight of Catra. Her actions had left him with a special disdain for this feline. But now was not the time to skin a cat. Hordak looked for the helmet to the armor he wore most of the time, so if they had visitors he could pretend to be just another one of Entraptas machines. Once he found it, he quickly dawned it as he heard talking outside the lab, and went to stand motionless in the corner of the room as the door opened with Entrapta stepping through. Entrapta looked both excited and exhausted for some reason. 

Then he heard Catra yelp and say, “He bit me again!” Catra entered the lab holding a baby. The sight of the baby caused him to stagger in shock at the sight of his son, causing Catra to look in his direction, surprised. “You sure it’s safe to have the twins in your lab with that thing around? It doesn’t look like you’ve gotten all the kinks out of it,” Catra said, still trying to free her hand from the baby with little success. 

Entrapta snorted, chuckling a bit. “Ohh there's nothing to fear from him he just needs his joints oiled. And stop struggling with Sindri, you know it only makes him bite harder. That’s how Glimmer fainted, remember?” Entrapta smiled towards Hordak, as Scorpia walked in holding the other baby. At the sight of a second one, Hordak truly felt like he was about to keel over. “Besides, with them in my lab I can build them a crib that can notify me when they're hungry. And probably some other inventions, like maybe a nanny for when I’m out...” Entrapta trailed off, noticing the stare she got from Catra.

“You are not leaving the twins with a robot Entrapta. If you need someone to watch them, some of us volunteered to help with them.” Catra looked down at Sindri, who was still feeding on her hand while looking at her with innocent eyes. “Well, either way someone will come to check up on you and see if you need anything,” Catra said as she watched Sindri stop feeding. She moved her hand away, shaking it a little to wake it up “For someone so small you’ve got one hell of a grip.” Catra smiled a little before walking over to Entrapta to hand her Sindri. “See ya later, ok?” Entrapta nodded taking the baby as Scorpia approached next, handing her Ahirman.

“Don't worry little guy, we’ll see ya later,” Scorpia said with a smile as she left with Catra. Entrapta watched the monitor for it to be truly safe, before giving a smile and nod in Hordak’s direction.

“It’s clear,” Entrapta said as hordak removed his helmet and quickly moved over to her to see the twins. “Their names are Ahirman,” she said, nodding to the one she held in her left arm, ”and Sindri,” she nodded to the one on her right.” As she said the names, Entrapta saw Hordaks confused look.

“You named them after two of the four kings?” Hordak asked, a bit intrigued. He had told her that the legend of the four kings when she asked if the Horde had any legends, but to think she’d name their sons after the forsaken and exiled, the two most hated of the four. Hordak smiled at Entrapta. “Well that just means that they are going to have very large goals set for them then.” He watched Entrapta smile widely before she handed him Ahriman. Hordak paused, looking down at Ahriman, who looked back at him before reaching out for Hordak. Hordak took his son, holding him in one arm. Noticing their features matched, Hordak gave his son a soft smirk, before noticing Entrapta looked like she was holding back her question. “Go on ask away. I know the wait has probably be driving you madder than it has me.”  

Entrapta let out an excited squeal, before pulling out a recording device. “Ok first, Ahriman and Sindri have both bitten and drank blood from a few princesses. So far myself, Catra, Perfuma, Glimmer and Angela, after which they seemed to not bite others. What is the reason behind that?” Entrapta asked, looking to see Hordak smiling. “I know they’re feeding but they refuse to feed from pouches like you did. They do still drink milk, luckily without biting but is there a reason why they only bite certain people?” Hordak nodded, looking to Ahriman, who yawned while he held him.

“While I may be a clone of Horde Prime, there is still plenty of available data about our species. When we’re infants we feed from the mother as well as those who the mother has entrusted her children to. Mainly the first four besides the mother that held them. Their scent is how they know if they can feed from them.” As hordak explained, he also thought about the princesses and cat Entrapta listed off.

“So if that’s the case that means that Ahriman was held by myself, Angela, Glimmer, Catra after Glimmer fainted then Perfuma, and for Sindri roughly the same order. I even held on to Sindri  and waited for her to wake up just to see if he would bite her like Ahriman did.” Hordak gave her a raised brow. “He most certainly did bite her, causing her to faint a second time,” Entrapta said with a smile. “It was sooo fascinating to witness her reaction,” she said gleefully. 

At this moment, Ahriman started to make a fuss and fidget in Hordak’s arms, causing Hordak to wonder if he did something wrong. “Why is he acting this way? Am I holding him improperly?” 

Entrapta smiled and traded babies with him. “No. He just gets like that when he’s hungry.” She proceeded to feed Ahriman while Hordak cuddled Sindri. 

“Did you enjoy feeding on the feline? I would hope you don’t grow too attached to that one my son,” says Hordak, taking a moment to remember Catra’s past actions. “She is not to be trusted.” Hordak looks over to Entrapta, who had just finished feeding Ahriman, “I see he’s had his fill. How about you let me look after these two? You should go and rest, you look rather fatigued.” Entrapta handed over Ahriman and sighed.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. It has been a rather long couple of days. Make sure to log anything worthwhile onto my recorder while I rest. I don’t want to miss any test worthy opportunities that may come up,” Entrapta said as she yawned and walked to the door that lead to their room. She got to the doorway and paused. “Do you think it’s possible that they will have magic like me?” Entrapta asked, turning back to Hordak. He looked like he was considering the possibility of it, before answering.

“I don’t know. I suppose only time will tell if these two will have an affinity for magic.” Entrapta smiled at the answer, seeming satisfied with the idea of figuring it out in time, before she walked through the doorway, heading into their room and leaving Hordak alone with his two sons. Hordak looked to his sons, seeing them look back at him. “I see great things in the future from the two of you. After all, you’re both my sons.”

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

as always this couldn't be achieved without my co writer novanator or my editor @lauraisfae

#she ra netflix #catra #entrapdak #sindri #ahriman #scorpia #hordak #entrapta #ocs #fanfic #story #heir_to_the_horde

[d3-iseefire]

Princess of Shadow

Note: So apparently I can’t do a writing prompt without it turning into a full fledged story SO I decided to just give in and write a full fledged story! Yay! Here is Chapter One! :D

Summary: Bilba Baggins, Crown Princess of Erebor, knew the stories well. How her wandering ancestors, desiring a home, had tricked the King of Erebor and stolen his throne. It wasn’t a particularly nice story but, according to the legends, the old king had been a brute anyway so Bilba never particularly minded.

King Durin had reportedly vowed to one day return and reclaim the mountain but, as the years passed the threat became little more than legend.

Legend, until the day they weren’t.

Now declared a threat to the stability of the throne and the new king who sits upon it, BIlba is given an ultimatum. She can marry her sworn enemy and bear him heirs to strengthen the Durin line, or be executed to remove the threat she presents by simply existing.

The choice is hers.

Extra Note: For the purposes of this story hobbits and dwarves have the same lifespan, cause it’s my story and I say so. :P :D :D

Princess of Shadow Master Chapter List: https://d3-iseefire.tumblr.com/post/187613581372/princess-of-shadow-master-list

Link to my other works on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeFire/works

Bilba Baggins’ life as she knew it was turned upside down on a bright, sunny morning in late fall. Usually, Bilba longed for such mornings. Winters were frigid in Erebor and often left her, and the rest of the mountain’s inhabitants snowbound for months on end. It often made her wonder just what had possessed her ancestors to target the land for their own, especially when those hobbits who’d chosen to continue wandering had sent word of the Shire’s discovery less than two years later. Deep down, she had a suspicion that the decision to stay came more from stubbornness and pride than any genuine love for the mountain’s bruising stone or its constant, biting cold. Better to suffer in a stolen mountain than admit they might have been wrong to take it in the first place. In any event, Bilba loved those rare, sunny days that arrived less and less as the year ticked on toward winter. They were a reminder of what she’d enjoyed during the summer, and a promise of what awaited her on the far side of the harsh months that lay ahead. On such days she always did her best to stay outside as long as possible, visiting her best friend in Dale or simply wandering the hills around the mountain. There was no chance of her doing either activity today.

She’d been trapped inside for weeks now, so long that the urge to leave had slowly shriveled into apathy edged with despair.

She stayed in bed for several long minutes after awakening, perfectly still and with her eyes fixed on the underside of her canopy. She had nowhere to be anymore, and nothing to do so the impetus to get up in the morning had long since fled. As the days had crawled by she’d begun to crave sleep. It allowed her to forget, if ever so briefly, the way her stomach was perpetually tied into knots, or the increasingly dead look in the eyes of those wandering the halls of the mountain.

They all knew what was coming. It was no longer a question of if, but when.

She found the will to move finally and forced herself to sit up, She pushed the blankets back, shivered at the bite in the air, and carefully stood. Her feet slid into the plush rug her bed sat on and she took a second to dig her toes in and relish the warmth under her soles.

Her thin nightgown swirled about her legs and she snagged the matching robe off a nearby chair. As she slid it on and cinched the belt she reflected on the fact that it had been intended as part of her wedding trousseau and, had things gone differently, she’d be wearing it for her husband now instead of an empty room.

A shudder not born from the cold washed over her and acid churned uncomfortably in her gut at that particular thought.

Her intended, Lord Grima, was a nobleman of some note in Gondor, and loosely related to the throne. He was also at least four decades older than her. Despite her pleas, Bilba’s grandfather had accepted his offer of marriage in return for a promise that Grima would try to bend the king of Gondor toward an alliance with Erebor. 

It was an alliance her grandfather had long desired, but which had long been denied for reason Bilba didn’t entirely understand. Gerontius Took firmly believed politics and the like to be the realm of men and it was rare Bilba had any idea of what was going on with her grandfather or his councilors.

Not that any of that stopped her grandfather from attempting to sell her off like a trinket at market. Grima had visited a few times to view his purchase, and his leering gaze and wandering hands had made her physically ill.

She was supposed if there were any silver lining to be found in their current circumstances, it was that at least she no longer had to worry about him. Still, had it come down to her marrying Grima, or watching her people suffer as they now were...she’d have chosen the marriage. As awful and miserable as she knew it would have been, if her marriage could have spared her people she’d have gone to it, and gladly.

Well, maybe not gladly, but she’d have gone.

A light knock came on her door and, at her quiet word, it opened to admit her maid, one of the few women in the mountain with a smaller stature than Bilba, which was saying something. In the past, Josie had always dressed more like a Lady in Waiting than a maid, with her blonde hair curled and piled high and her gowns bright and eye-catching.

She’d had a dream, she’d confided once, of catching the eye of a nobleman willing to overlook her class and marry her. A fairy-tale come true she’d said, eyes sparkling with excitement, and hands clasped before her. Bilba had quite agreed and had done her best to steer the other women toward the kinder noblemen, while simultaneously extolling her virtues to them every chance she got.

None of that excited, hopeful girl was evident now in the quiet woman who entered the room. Josie’s hair was in a knot at the back of her head and her gown was homespun and simple. The bounce that was normally present in her step was gone, and her eyes were dull and lifeless.

As if the sight triggered something deep inside, Bilba’s feet began to move almost on their own toward the two large doors that led onto her balcony. Dawn tinted sunlight streamed through the large panes of glass set in the wood frame, casting a reddish orange hue over her room. In the past she’d loved it when it looked like this.

Now all she could think of when she saw it was blood.

“Your Highness,” Josie said, hesitant, from behind her. “Perhaps it’d be best if you didn’t go out there. It’s not safe.”

Bilba’s heart began to hammer in her chest as she curled her hand around the handle of the door and, in one smooth motion, yanked it open before she could talk herself out of it.

It was deceptively quiet, just the rush of air about the mountain and the faint, raucous sound of ravens that like to roost among the rocks. Her balcony was enormous, dug from the side of the mountain itself and sporting a rock ledge that rose from the edges to nearly her waist.

It was a masterwork of engineering, and one of the few still usable in the mountain. Hobbits were not gifted in the art of stonework, and lacked the necessary skills or knowledge to learn. There were entire sections of Erebor now that were considered unstable and were closed off to the public.

It was quite possible that, had things been allowed to progress naturally, they would have had to leave Erebor in another hundred years or so as it would have simply become to dangerous to continue living there.

Not that any of that mattered now.

Bilba shuffled out slowly onto the balcony, shivering as the cold air bit through her clothes. Now that she was out she could hear it, the faintest clamor from far below, of voices, tack and equipment as bodies awakened and readied themselves for the day.

She let out a slow breath and then, resigned, made her way to the edge. She already knew what she’d see, but held out the irrational hope that once, just once, she’d look down and be wrong.

That her eyes would look out over an empty plain, stretching back serenely toward Dale and farther still until it reached the borders of Mirkwood. That the only movement would be a light breeze dancing through the grass and rustling the branches of trees. That, in the distance, she’d catch sight of the Men of Dale ratcheting open the gates as they readied for a day of brisk trade between their merchants and those of Erebor.

It was a sight that had greeted her daily for most of her twenty years. It was a sight that she’d often considered boring, her restless soul yearning for adventure and excitement beyond the daily, repetitive grind.

It was a sight she’d given anything to see again.

The gates of Dale were shut, as they had been for over a month now, and if there was a breeze dancing in the grass she couldn’t see it.

Instead all she could see was an army. It filled the plain below, swelled against the walls of Dale and muddled the borders of Mirkwood. Row upon row of soldiers, horses, and siege weapons. From the height she was at, they looked like little more than ants milling about the landscape, but Bilba knew they were anything but.

The dwarves, as it turned out, were not willing to wait another hundred years to reclaim Erebor. They wanted it back now and, given how things had been going of late, they would soon get it.

Bilba’s eyes drifted toward the largest tents in the center of the camp, and her heart twisted at the sight of the banners proudly proclaiming their owners. She would never understand. Lady Sigrid was her best friend. She’d spent hours in their home, considered Lord Bard as a surrogate father of sorts. Mirkwood she’d spent less time in but, even so, she was still on a first name basis with Legolas, had attended dances and banquets in both their honor and her own.

She’d thought they were friends, and yet here were the banners of both fluttering alongside that of the dwarves, proudly announcing their allegiance.

The pain of the betrayal cut deep, and even now blurred her vision. Apparently, they hadn’t been as close as she’d once believed. All the while they’d laughed and smiled, invited her into their homes and lives, they’d been plotting behind her and her grandfather’s back. Planning, smiling to her face while simultaneously sneaking around to drive a blade into her back.

It hurt, and it was humiliating. She’d believed them. She’d really, honestly, thought they were her friends. She could just imagine how they must have laughed at her behind her back, mocked her...

Bilba drew in a sharp breath. Her nose burned and she scowled as tears began to track down her face. She needed to get that under control. The writing was on the wall, and the last thing she wanted was to break down in front of them later. It was bad enough that they’d hurt her. She didn’t want to let them see it, and hear their mocking laughter in return. 

“Your Highness?” Josie’s voice came from right over her shoulder. “Perhaps we should go back inside. You’ll catch a cold standing out here.”

Bilba set her shoulders back, and nodded stiffly. “You’re right of course.” She pasted a shaky smile on her face, and turned to face the other girl. “Let’s go.”

Josie nodded and turned to go back in. As she did, Bilba couldn’t help a final look over her shoulder, down to what had become a battlefield far below. Her eyes caught on one tent in particular, the largest in the dead center of the camp.

There she knew she would find the source of all of Erebor’s problems. A bloodline her grandfather believed gone, died out and lost generations ago. A line descended from the evil brute her ancestors had described, and undoubtedly still just as brutish.

A pox on them, Bilba thought bitterly, as anger overcame her. If it weren’t for them none of this would be happening. She clenched her jaw and, with an angry motion, jerked around to follow Josie inside.

As she slammed the doors shut with slightly more force than necessary she found herself wishing fervently and passionately that the Valar would send a bolt of lightning and strike the entire line dead where they stood.

Damn the line of Durin, and all those who supported them.

                                                     ***

Frerin shoved back the flap of his tent and strode out into the open. Brisk, cool air wrapped around him and he relaxed into it. He raised his arms over his head and stretched, nearly groaning in pleasure as his various joints and vertebrae popped and snapped themselves back into position.

There was just nothing positive about sleeping in a tent, regardless of the furs and food and whatever else put in to try and convince him otherwise. The cots were always too small and too hard, and the air quickly became stuffy and overbearing.

He always woke up stiff, sore and drenched in sweat, and with a renewed gratitude for his quarters in Ered Luin. Small and cramped they might be but, compared to a tent, they might as well have been the lap of luxury.

Giggling drew his attention to a pair of human, female archers passing by. He hadn’t thought much about seeing women when he’d chosen to walk out in nothing but his trousers. Females in dwarven society weren’t allowed to fight. They were so rare as it was that risking what few there were in battle would be idiotic.

He raised his eyebrows suggestively at the two archers, and smirked. The women immediately went beet red and scurried off, laughter ringing out behind them.

Frerin chuckled. He could get used to having women on the battlefield he decied as he ducked back inside his tent. When he emerged a few minutes later he was properly dressed and had pulled his boots on. He’d opted for a leather cuirass instead of full armor, and had simply belted on his sword rather than spend time arming himself with the various blades he liked to carry. 

He made his way toward the large pavilion set up several tents away. He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Thorin already there, pouring over a map laid out on the table before him as if it held all the answers in the world.

“Planning our next battle plan?” he asked in amusement.

Thorin paused long enough to glare at him before resuming his study of the map. They both knew there wouldn’t be another battle plan. The last fight had been over a week earlier, and it had been the last. The hobbits had barely been able to muster a force of thirty, and less than half of them had made it back inside the mountain.

The hobbits had shut and barred the gates behind them, while the forces outside had surrounded the mountain.

It was no longer a fight. It was a siege, the outcome all but guaranteed. The only thing question now was --

“How much longer?” he asked as he approached the table.

Thorin raised his head, eyes directed toward the mountain that loomed over their encampment. He’d been hesitant to use the trebuchets and, in the end, the decision had proven to be a good one. The hobbits seemed to have no siege weapons of their own and, in Thorin refusing to use the ones at his disposal, they’d avoided unnecessary damage to their future home.

The last thing anyone wanted was to destroy the very thing they’d spent blood trying to reclaim. 

“There are natural springs inside the mountain,” Thorin’s voice broke into his thoughts, “so they’ll have no fear over water. The biggest question is if they’ve stored food for the winter and, if so, how much.”

If they had stored food, the hobbits could conceivably last months, assuming they were careful and rationed it. 

Frerin chewed on his lower lip as he followed his brother’s gaze to the mountain. If this siege did last months, it could soon erase their advantage. The snows would come, leaving the hobbits safely ensconced inside the mountain, while they would be trapped outside in the elements.

Planning a war with winter fast approaching wasn’t what any of them had wanted, or would have chosen had it been solely up to them. If they could have, they’d have spent time carefully planning before marching in early spring with months of warm weather ahead of them within which to outlast the hobbits.

It hadn’t been up to them, however, not entirely. The previous winter in Ered Luin had been brutal. So bad that it had managed to upset the delicate line they had long walked between extreme poverty, and outright starvation.

He’d lost count of how many had died that winter. Of how many times he’d stood silently alongside his brother and sister as flames had flickered and snapped over the wood of pyres, sending yet one more soul to the Halls of Mandos to await the rebuilding of the world.

Not only had the winter itself been brutal, but it had lasted far longer than normal. The optimal time for planting was long past by the time the frost finally loosened its grip, and many crops that were planted failed to produce. Those few that did were destroyed in a series of spring storms that plagued the mountains.

They had tried reaching out to surrounding areas for help but the grip of winter had spread far and there were none who could spare the resources.

Motion caught his eye and Frerin saw Gandalf emerge from his tent. The man looked grave, as he had from the day the war started. He knew the wizard deeply regretted every life lost on both sides, an irony in some ways as he’d been the one to start this entire mess. Gandalf had arrived just as all hope had seemed lost, bearing tales of the tyranny of the false king of Erebor. Dale and Mirkwood were ripe for alliance he’d claimed, and he’d been right. And now here they were, locked in a battle they had to win. If they failed those they’d left behind would starve, might still starve if they didn’t receive word to begin their journey to Erebor soon. Bard appeared, face grave and worn in spite of the night he’d spent in Dale checking on his family and people. “Are you all right?” Frerin asked with a frown. “Your family?” “Fine,” the dark haired man said shortly. “My daughter is angry with me, but she’ll recover.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but Frerin knew better than to press. Lord Bard had been reluctant to ally with them. He detested war, regardless of its justification, and had only agreed in the end when it became clear war was inevitable. All that mattered was whose side he wished to be on. In the distance, Frerin could hear Thranduil barking orders and he turned just in time to catch a glimpse of Legolas vanishing around a corner in that direction. The elven prince had proven to be a peacemaker, often tempering his father’s more aggressive temperaments. Said temperament had been on display more and more of late, and not just with him. No one enjoyed the waiting game they were currently engaged in, and less so every day they grew nearer to winter. Frerin’s eyes were drawn back to the mountain and his stomach twisted uncomfortably inside him. He preferred being in control of his own fate, able to take up sword and fight for his life and that of his loved ones. Now all he could do was wait, and hope, that fate would play out in their favor. That the Hobbits’ food would run out and they would surrender before the snow hit. The bite in the air registered and Frerin raised his eyes toward the sky where heavy, dark clouds looked over them. Time would tell on whose side the Valar stood, and soon. He could only pray it was theirs.

#Fanfic #Fanfiction #Hobbit #The Hobbit #Romance #Action #Adventure #Frerin #Female Bilbo #FemBilbo #Thorin #Fili #Kili #Erebor Never Fell (to Smaug anyway) #AU #Alternate Universe #Fantasy #Writing #My Writing

[save-the-spiral]

InkWizTober Day Twenty-One: Treasure + Summons

Welcome to day twenty-one of inktober! I wrote more about pirate101 because I Could Not Resist. I made a crew of OCs for Queen now, continuing on (this post). Tried to not accidentally mention SU characters or school gemstones in the process. Warnings for limb loss, weapon mentions, blood mention, general pirate stuff.

(link to prompt lists) (link to inktober tag)

She understands now.

The urge, the calling. Once out on the open skyways, where everything is laid out like a feast, the hunger sets in. It seems so simple, at first. Just a matter of survival. Her against the world now. 

She wants. And for the first time, she can do whatever she needs to in order to get whatever she wants. She finally feels worthy of her name.

Masks become regular, a mask above a mask. A disguise of rags. One that quickly becomes a disguise of a gaudy, secretive captain. Dressed in rich blacks, draped in gold and silver, a large black hat with a broad ostrich feather dyed gold.

People mutter about her. They scatter in fear of this captain running a ship with no crew, who never drinks at pubs, who will stare with shadowed eye sockets from her mask. They wonder who and what she is. Most bets are that she’s a new rival to the young captain who had been both dominating and helping the Spiral in one swoop. Some think she’s some old legend revived by a witch doctor.

Queen is glad to know that no one suspects her. No one suspects a defective Armada puppet. Not even when she brings several haywire battle angels under her protection, giving them names and clothes and freedom like they’ve never known. They all call each other sister, and tell their tales.

No, at the closest people get is assuming she was once Valencian royalty, and got sick of the Armada. Only one of those is right.

Now when she walks its not the straight backed, aristocratic sway of a proper lady. Her left leg was destroyed by a Monquistan guard who tried to play hero. It still aches, even when replaced by the slightly shorter limb of a fallen Armada musketeer. She limps, and even that is enough for people to look away quickly, still able to pity her and feel disgusted in the same glance. 

Queen loves the imperfection. It makes her more alive. It makes her feel like a pirate, battle worn.

She has stolen now. She steals and lies and cheats, even in her written notes to communicate with people outside her crew. She kills now, blood and oil and strange magics all the same when they spill under her blade. She does whatever she wants, never answering to anyone anymore. 

And so she’s a pirate now. Enemy of every government. Something to be feared. Something free and living outside of any society. The power is intoxicating, but she works hard to remember to never put herself on a pedestal. Arrogance was Kane’s downfall, it could easily become hers. 

Queen is humbled, however, when she and her crew finally reach the Skull Island Skyways. Every pirate here seems more vicious than they could ever be, all of them almost bored by the wanton violence. Crime is the way of life here, it is what builds every single home, what fuels every fire.

Queen feels like she’s coming home, another misfit finally finding her island. Her crew of fallen angels can only agree, all of them awed by the bright skies, the flourishing greenery, the intricate flags flying high. They’ve reached paradise.

Their ship is moderately sized, with plain black flags only depicting a delicate golden wing. A reminder of their past, what they all were meant to be. They wear black and don masks, metal bodies resistant to the heat. When they dock at Skull Island itself, they all glance at each other as if they cannot believe it. 

Even Queen finds an artificial breath shuddering out of her chest, a protocol meant to quiet her gears. A majority of her old protocols were to make her quiet, unseen. She tends to ignore them gleefully now.

Her right hand, an ex-angel she gave the name Sterling, was gripping the plain wooden wheel to their ship so hard it had begun to creak in complaint. Queen gently places a hand on Sterling’s shoulder, hearing faint muffled clicks as every joint in her right hand’s body relaxes. 

“Anchor down.” Queen calls, voice almost drowned by the loud sounds of ships and crews casting off or also docking. Two of her crew mates, Rhodium and Rhenium, the ones who insist on acting like twins, drop the anchor and high five, always more youthful than their sisters.

The dark wood of the deck clacks awkwardly with her limping gait, her heeled original leg sharper than the almost flat musketeer’s leg. Queen gestures for Sterling to follow, gathering her crew near the largest mast, waiting for their look out to slide down from the crow’s nest.

The crew’s lookout, given the name Malachite for her penchant for greens, slides down with ease. Her calm demeanor is betrayed by nervousness, and her hands shake under green gloves, fiddling slightly with her guns.

Malachite nods nonetheless. “No battles anywhere, seems as busy as usual.” 

Rhodium and Rhenium are practically vibrating, eager to explore the island, too childish for their own good. “Let’s go then!” They say in unison, holding hands.

The crew all turns to Queen. She wants to protect them all, and her chest aches with something she has not been able to name. A dozen ex-angels, all of them lovingly named by her, named after precious and unique things, stones and metals. To remind them that they are all people now, that they have worth. 

And now she had to decide if she could trust them to stay safe on an island full of pirates that would rip them to shreds if they caught wind of the clockwork hidden under baggy clothes and masks, boots and gloves and mystery.

Zircon, ever surly and combative, crosses her arms with a sharp click and, if she were able too, would surely frown. “Everyone settle down. We cannot all go at once, too many masked pirates draws attention.”

“Don’t we want that though?” Sterling asks with a quirked head. “We want to speak to Avery, after all. He would be intrigued by a new crew.”

“But they could think we were-” Malachite cuts herself off, “Well, they could assume the wrong thing. Shoot first, ask later. Then they get one of our bodies and-”

“We could take them.” Zircon scoffs. “But I still say only Captain and Sterling go.” 

More of her crew chime in, Stichtite with her wild ideas, Spectrolite with the inevitable pun, Osmium trying to pick a fight with Meteorite. The others try to add their two cents, only for it to be drawn into arguments and jokes, all while Queen tries to decide.

“Okay- everyone, listen.” Queen says. And they all do, going dead silent, and it feels like a ghost ship for one dreadful second before Rhodium giggles. “So. The plan is now that I and Zircon will go to Avery. Malachite and Sterling, you go to the pub.”

Queen is proud of the way Zircon handles herself, adjusting the dangerous mace on her shoulder, not bragging as she once may have, not overcompensating. Malachite stands at attention as well, nervous energy gone now that she has a mission. Sterling is as reliable as ever at her side.

Queen continues to speak now, reassured. “Gather any intel about current events on the island, especially the young captain. Don’t make a big deal of being on my crew, but mention it. Cobalt, you are in charge of the ship while we are away, if anyone comes to talk to you, tell them to wait for our return.” 

With a small nod to herself, adjusting her feathered hat, Queen holds one hand on her scabbard as she jumps ship, unbalanced on the dock. Sterling quickly follows, helping Queen regain her land legs. 

Zircon and Malachite follow, and they begin to walk from the docks to the beach, all of them covered head to toe in cloth or armor, revealing only the flash of blade or the barrel of a gun.

Once Sterling and Malachite break off from the group, Zircon follows Queen closely, acting the part of loyal guard dog, staring down anyone who even thinks of grabbing the bounty on the head of her mysterious Captain.

It’s a rather high bounty, to be fair. Queen is rather proud of that fact. To not have an official name, but to be feared nonetheless, it is something that does her rogue heart proud.

They enter Avery’s Court to many stares, whispers in all accents like a rushing tide. A few people scamper, some of them off to tell others, some in fear.

Queen recognizes quite a few people who she has met in battle and thoroughly beaten. Even they leave her alone, pirate’s honor in this haven as coveted as gold, only the scum at the bottom of a yum barrel would bother attacking her now in this sanctuary.

They walk up to Captain Avery’s door and knock. This is a demonstration of fearlessness, of daring that only so few can possess. Avery is a respected man, too crafty for his own good. The pirate that bet everything and won, who made Skull Island, who guides the young captain through the Spiral, who was able to retire alive and wealthy.

Queen admires the man, but only as one can admire a leader, never as a person. She resolved to be attached to no man as soon as she realized what Kane had been turning her into. 

The door opens to Captain Avery seated at a long table, sipping tea. The young pirate captain and their right hand are seated as well, looking uncomfortable. All three turn to look at her. 

“I had been waiting for an opportunity to meet you, mysterious captain of the Pyrite Swan. Why don’t you and your friend come in for a spot of tea?” Avery grins, a gold tooth shining in the sunlight. “I promise we all can make it worth your while.”

When Queen sits, Zircon stands at her shoulder, mace in hand. Neither speak, and the similarly mute young captain looks confused, their face soft with baby fat and scarred by their journeys. 

Zircon hands Queen a golden quill and a roll of parchment, and Queen turns to Avery, waiting for him to speak.

She can only wait to see what game they’ll be playing soon enough.

#Wiztober2019 #Wiztober #Inktober2019 #Inktober #Pirate101 #Writing #my ocs #Queen Pirate101 #Pirate 101 #Pitty101 #p101

[gretavanfleetlife]

Only Time Will Tell:

Chapter 4

AN: Hey! This chapter is fkn CUTE lemme just tell ya. Sorry this part took a bit longer than the others, I’ve been pretty busy lately and I didn’t want to rush through it. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy, love you all!💕

Also big shoutout to my boy Rami Malek for portraying a legend beautifully and winning a well deserved Oscar tonight!!😊

Warnings: flufffff

Word count: 2,250

You open your eyes slowly, feeling a painful headache beginning and a sick feeling in your stomach. Last night was not kind. You start to remember all the events that took place yesterday but you quickly dismiss the memories, as they would only contribute to your headache and you'd rather just about forget them entirely. Your body aches. You go to stretch out your arms but stop when you notice an arm wrapped loosely around your waist. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Sam sleeping peacefully next to you. A light shade of pink grazes your cheeks and you lay still, not knowing what to do but slightly enjoying Sam's gentle touch. You decide that you should probably get up, moving your leg to the side of the bed in an attempt to sit up. You try to slide his arm off of your waist, but feeling you moving makes Sam tighten his grip on you and tug you back into his arms, pulling you close into his chest. His arms are tight around you now and there is practically no space in between the two of you. The blush on your face deepens as he nuzzles his face into your neck. You know you don't have any chance of moving from this without waking him up, so you decide to go back to sleep. Pressed snuggly against his body, you easily drift off into a hazy dream.

About an hour later, you wake up to feel Sam stirring awake. You feel his head pull back from being tucked against your neck.

"Holy shit," you hear Sam whisper as he loosens his grasp around you. You feel his body leave yours and find yourself wishing for it to return. You hear him move to sit up on the opposite end of the bed. You stretch and sit up, turning your body to glance at him. He faces the wall, shaking his head slightly while he runs his hand through his messy hair. You giggle at the fact that he was anxious to have been cuddling you since at first, you felt the same way. Sam hears you laugh and immediately turns. You see him blush as he looks at you with wide eyes, despite having just woken up. His expression softens slightly as he gives you a small smile.

"Morning y/n, you feeling ok?" He asks.

"I've been better but nothing I can't handle," you reply, as he gives you a small nod. Waking up in Sam's arms almost made you forget about your hangover completely. You notice Sam holding his right hand and examining it closely. "What's wrong with your hand?" you ask him. Sam glances up at you.

"Oh nothing it's fine," he says unconvincingly. You don't believe him, so you throw the covers off of your body and stand up, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where Sam sits facing the wall. He looks at you and his eyes scan over your body as you notice his shoulders slightly tense. You look down at yourself and realize you're wearing his t-shirt and a pair of underwear. You could see your bra lying on the ground near a pair of Sam's sweatpants on the other side of the bed. You begin to blush but quickly regain your focus and go to stand in front of Sam.

"Can I see your hand please?" you ask. Sam slowly removes his hand from between his arms and shows you his fist, his knuckles cracked with dry blood that looks extremely painful. You let out a small gasp and take his hand into yours, examining it, "oh Sammy, what did you do," you whisper, "come on let's clean you up." You continue to hold his hand as you lead him towards his bathroom. You turn on the tap and help him wash his bruised knuckles, rinsing away the blood. Sam watches you carefully while you tend to his hand.

"Jesus Sammy, how hard did you hit him?" you mumble.

"As hard as I could," he responds gently.

"I'm sorry about this Sam."

"Why? It's not your fault," he replies, his eyes still fixed on yours as you caress the back of his hand gently, turning the water off and drying his hand with a towel.

"I just feel like the fight only happened because of me," you frown, finished cleaning his fist.

"Y/n no don't feel bad, it happened because Cam is an asshole. No one should ever touch a girl like that. Especially if that girl is you." You look up at him, blushing at his words.

"Come here," you open your arms and pull Sam closely into a hug. You bury your face into his chest and listen to the faint beating of his heart. You always felt that Sam's hugs were to die for, standing completely engulfed in the warmth of his body. You wanted him to hold you here forever. You felt safe in his arms. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach, a feeling you'd never gotten before from simply hugging Sam. You pull away and look up at him. For some reason, it was like you couldn't move your gaze away from his face. He gazed back at you, seeming to imitate your actions as his eyes swept across your face. You had been friends ever since you could remember, but at that moment it was like the first time you saw him.

"I think you should probably head home soon. Knowing your dad he'll probably be worried," Sam says softly. You listen to his words but your eyes don't stray from his face.

"Yeah, you're probably right," you say as you give him a small smile. You continue to study each other for a moment longer but decide it'd best for you to get going. You pry your eyes away from Sam and head towards his bed, grabbing your bra and dress that lay scattered across the floor and mindlessly throw it in a bag along with your clothes from yesterday. You daydream about Sam, hardly paying any attention as you put on his sweatpants that you found near the bed. You feel extremely confused, why do you feel this way about Sam now? What even is this feeling? You know that you find him attractive, his deep brown eyes and long wavy hair handsomely completing his facial features. But no this isn't right, this is the same Sam that you grew up with, nothing's changed. So why do you feel this way about him now? You finish packing your things and glance over at him to find him already looking at you.

"Do you want a ride home?" Sam offers as the two of you head out of his room together and walk downstairs.

"No that's ok Sam, I can walk," you reply politely. You want some time alone so you can figure out your sudden complex feelings towards Sam.

"Alright, I'll walk you over then," he decides, slipping on a pair of worn-in sandals.

"You don't have to," you smile, "I'll be ok."

"Well I gotta head over to my aunt's house anyway to grab lunch and she lives just past your house."

"Oh ok, great," you reply as the two of you walk out the door and start towards your house. You were thankful that you didn't live too far, just on the other end of the street. Being around Sam felt different now, although it was still a good feeling. You walked straight into the middle of the road, a habit you developed when you were kids that you've continued ever since.

-flashback-

The sun was just beginning to appear over the horizon as you walked on the sidewalk next to Sam. The two of you were headed back to school after a long summer filled with childish adventures. You were beginning grade 7 that year, so the two of you were used to walking to school without Josh and Jake. Frankenmuth High was located deeper into town, so the twins got a ride from their dad every morning. You didn't mind walking though. Your favorite part of every day was when you watched the sun peek over the fields in the distance, calmly walking towards it with one of your closest friends. You looked at Sam.

"It's too bad this summer's already over," you sighed as Sam nodded quietly.

"Yeah, it was fun while it lasted," he replied.

"I miss it already. The freedom of waking up knowing we can do whatever we wanted, go wherever we wanted," you remembered, sadly, "now we have to go to school every day. No more limitless freedom," you sigh, watching your feet crunch against the coarse gravel.

"Then let's not walk to school," Sam said as you looked up at him confused. He holds out his hand to you and you take it in yours. His fingers intertwine with yours as he guides you away from the sidewalk and onto the middle of the empty road. "Let's walk to the sun," he said as you smile up at him, "every day."

Sam kept his word. Every day since when you got up for school in the morning, Sam would be waiting outside your house, he'd offer his hand to you, and you would walk to the sun together.

-end of flashback-

Sam held his hand out to you and smiled as you took it in yours.

"We haven't done this in a while," you say grinning to yourself.

"I know, I miss it," Sam replies, his eyes ahead as the sun rests slightly above the road in front of you.

"So do I. That was my favorite part of the day, did I ever tell you that?"

"No, you didn't," Sam says, a wide grin appearing on his face, "it was always my favorite too." As you walk beside him down the empty road, you feel happier than you've been in a long time, the problems and pain of last night's events disappearing by the touch of Sam's rough hand in yours. You see your house approaching as you make your way down the road.

"Hey are you with Ethan now?" Sam asked. The sudden change in conversation couldn't possibly ruin your mood.

"No, were not. We had something going on between us for a while but then I saw him making out with some other girl. I guess I was wrong," you shrug, not caring enough about Ethan at the moment to be upset. Sam shakes his head.

"You deserve somebody better than him anyway." A smile tugs at your lips.

"Know anyone?" you ask. Sam lets out a small laugh.

"One," he says with a smile.

"Who, Danny? He's taken," you joke.

"Oh uh, yeah Danny's who I was gonna say." His smile fades. You laugh softly and you reach your house. He drops your hand as the two of you walk up your porch steps and stop in front of the door. Sam stands in front of you and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Thanks," you say gently.

"Anytime, you know I like walking with you."

"No, thanks for everything," you continue, "last night I was really afraid of what Cam might have done and I couldn't have gotten through it alone. Anyway, thank you for taking care of me," you ramble. Sam smiles, his eyes sincere.

"I'll always take care of you," he says softly. Your heart flutters in your chest and you smile happily at Sam. Suddenly, the door swings open and you see your dad breath a large sigh of relief.

'Y/n I was worried half to death about you! Where'd you go last night? What happened?" he asks, flustered. You open your mouth to apologize but before you can say anything you're cut off by Sam.

"It was my fault, sir. We lost track of time and I didn't think it was safe for her to walk home so late at night, so I suggested she sleep at my place." You notice your dad visibly relax.

"Oh alright then. Where exactly did you sleep if I might ask," he questions. You glance nervously at Sam, hoping he doesn't tell your dad the truth.

"Y/n slept in my bed and I slept on the couch downstairs," he replies without hesitation. You silently remind yourself to thank him later, thankful that Sam remembered how strict your dad is when it comes to you being with other boys.

"Alright Sam, thank you," your dad says before returning back inside and closing the door slightly behind him. You breathe a sigh of relief and turn back to face Sam.

"You're the best," you grin, "thanks for that." He smiles at the ground and nods.

"Of course," he replies, walking towards the porch steps, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you soon," you sigh, "oh Sam wait, your clothes!" you exclaim, suddenly remembering and looking down at yourself wearing Sam's baggy shirt and sweatpants. He turns and looks to you with a chuckle.

"Keep them. They look better on you anyway." You blush, and he notices.

"Bye Sam," you say as he gives you small wave and you head inside. You close the door behind you and quickly hurry to the window. You look through the blinds, expecting to see Sam turn right towards his aunt's house. Peering through the window, you grin widely to yourself as you watch him start to walk back to his own house instead.

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#OTWT #only time will tell #gvf #greta van fleet #gvf fanfic #gvf fic #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #gretavanfleetlife #sam kiszka #otwt

[jovialyouthmusic]

Charlotte’s Choice

A Royal Romance AU Fanfic

26 Decorum and Debauchery

The Beaumont Bash gets going and Drake’s resolve is tested.

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26 Decorum and Debauchery

As Charlotte left her father’s room, she saw Bastein approaching

‘How is His Majesty? he asked.

‘He’s resting, Bastien’ she replied ‘was there anything important?’ He smiled warmly.

‘Yes your Highness, good news. Walker’s name has been cleared – she was taking a friend to the clinic and was not being treated. The Press has withdrawn the article and issued an apology’ Charlotte felt a little dizzy, and put her hand out to the wall to support herself. Bastien moved swiftly to her and put his hand under her elbow. ‘Are you alright Princess? Can I help?’ She nodded, putting her hand to her chest and taking a deep breath as her heart fluttered a little.

‘Yes – I think it’s just – the relief. Thankyou so much Bastien, this really puts my mind at rest.’

‘Even if it was not my job to do this for you Princess, I would do my utmost for you’ he replied, squeezing her elbow’

Does he – does Drake know? She asked

‘Yes he does. He was concerned that he hadn’t seen you at breakfast – he and Lady Olivia are with Bradley and young Lord Maxwell in the dining room’

‘I’ll go and see them – I’m so pleased’ she beamed ‘I think you had better let my Father rest, Bastien, and he won’t be attending the Ball tonight’ The guard’s face fell

‘I’m sorry to hear that, he usually enjoys the events here – at least until the dancing starts’

‘He found the events at Valtoria very taxing’ she said sadly. ‘He just needs rest – I will take over from him.’

Charlotte hurried to the dining room to find her three friends leaving. She rushed to Drake and stopped short of hugging him, instead taking both his hands in hers and gazing at him happily.

‘I hear your name’s been cleared’ she smiled ‘I’m so pleased – for you’ as she scanned the corridor for eavesdroppers. He looked back at her and nodded his head to the dining room, speaking loudly.

‘You should come and look at the flower arrangements Princess. They’re exceptional this year’ and he pulled her inside. Brad looked at the other two and motioned for them to leave the lovers to themselves, following Drake’s lead by speaking loudly.

‘So, Lord Beaumont, I hear the gardens are at their best – would you like to give us a tour?’

In the dining room, Charlotte was raining kisses on Drake’s face and neck, and he was laughing softly, taking her face in his hands to still her and kiss her back, deeply and slowly until they tired of kissing and just held each other, leaning against the door.

‘Oh Drake’ she breathed ‘We’re so close – we should be careful’ He stroked her hair, kissing her cheek and she nuzzled into his neck. She felt the steady beat of his heart, the warm scent of woodsmoke and whiskey lulling her senses.

‘We can let go a little tonight, Charlie’ he murmured. ‘We’ll have a little private party, just the five of us, and Bastein will stand guard’

‘Poor Bas’ chuckled Charlotte ‘When does he ever get to let his hair down – does he even sleep?’ Drake laughed as well

‘Do you remember when I told Max that Bas was a vampire – ‘Bats’ien?’ Charlotte giggled

‘He told me he barely slept for a week and had nightmares of him sleeping hanging from the rafters.’ Drake thought back to their carefree years, and held her tighter.

‘I love you Charlie, my Princess’ he murmured and she nestled deeper into him, not wanting anything to separate them and wishing they could be one together.

‘I love you too Drake’ she whispered, not daring to say it louder. She pulled back and looked up to him ‘At last I have real hope’ she smiled ‘Hope that we can be together at last’

A couple of hours later, they had all changed ready for the Ball and gone down for the banquet. Charlotte sat at the top table with the Beaumont Brothers and Olivia. Brad and Drake sat with Lady Kiara and Lady Penelope. Amongst the other guests, Severus sat with Neville, Lady Madeleine and her mother Lady Adelaide. Charlotte stood before the first course was served.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, Lords and Ladies, citizens of Cordonia – I give you apologies from the King who is indisposed. I thank our hosts the Beaumonts and welcome you all to Ramsford on their behalf. We are as you know approaching the end of the social season, and coming close to the announcement of the identity of the suitor who will rule at my side as Consort when I am Queen.’ All faces were turned toward her expectantly, and she paused for a moment, looking back around the room. ‘You may have read certain Press reports that attempted to discredit two of the suitors, namely Duke Walker and Earl De Montfort. I hope that you have also read the retraction of the smears on their characters and I am happy to report that they are still very much on the list of the remaining candidates’ She caught a disparaging look from Anton and Neville at this point, but she carried on.

‘It is my pleasure to announce that there are still four candidates, and that number will remain until the final announcement.’ There was a faint round of applause at this, and she bowed her head to the room. ‘Rest assured that I have the interests of my country and all of its citizens in mind as I carefully consider my decision.’ She smiled and raised her glass ‘This is the first of many toasts – please, enjoy your meal, and may we all prosper and have compassion for our fellow Cordonians whatever their station in life’ All raised their glasses and drank, and Charlotte could at last be seated so the first course was served. Olivia leaned across to her and squeezed her hand

‘Well done Lottie, and it was a good idea of yours to keep all four in contention’

‘Well I could hardly drop Maxxie here on home ground, and there’s no telling what Anton might do if I’d dropped him’ she replied. ‘Best to keep everyone guessing right up to the last minute.’ The dinner progressed smoothly and Charlotte made sure not to drink too much as she knew what was to come – as did many others. Some of the older guests retired to their rooms after the meal, and the rest assembled in the grand entrance hall at the bottom of the grand staircase that swept upstairs, portraits of previous Beaumonts adorning the oak panelled walls. Charlotte joined the two brothers on the staircase overlooking the guests. Bertrand made a grandiose speech extolling the virtue of the Beaumont family and its long lineage and connection with the Monarchy, then handed over to Maxwell.

‘Guests and friends, I don’t have to tell you how past celebrations have lived on in legend. I hope this occasion will join them in notoriety.’ Charlotte stood behind him with a heavy lethal looking sword. She had not entirely been looking forward to this part, but at Maxwell’s signal she took a swipe at the neck of a bottle of champagne and sliced the top off neatly as Maxwell continued, the volume of his voice rising ‘Dinner was only the beginning – I welcome you all to the Annual Beaumont Bash!’

Champagne flowed out of the neck of the bottle and Maxwell held it up, throwing back his head and drinking it. At Bertrand’s signal, music erupted from the rock band in the Ballroom and a troupe of scantily clad acrobats and jugglers entered, leaping and cartwheeling and throwing balls, clubs and flaming torches high into the air. The champagne flowed and the music blared and guests and entertainers mingled. Maxwell disappeared for a moment and re-entered the ballroom leading a llama on a leash. The creature looked unsettled and spat at Neville who happened to be close, only just missing Anton who wore a look of disgust on his face. Maxwell found himself apologising and getting a member of staff to help clean Neville up, but he disappeared to his room and did not return.

Maxwell led the llama around and various guests took it in turn to ride the creature until Drake had a quiet word with him over its treatment, and he relented and took it outside. The party spilled outside into the grounds, the doors of the ballroom that led outside to the lawns thrown open so the thumping beat spread to the open air. Charlotte stood on the balcony watching, and could swear that in the dimming light she saw Maxwell now leading an Emu around. She was wary of joining in the merriment – her father had drummed into her how important deportment and public image were, and she was having a hard time breaking that conditioning.

Her guard must have been down, as she was suddenly aware that she was not alone. She turned to see that Anton had joined her, and her blood ran cold. She had almost dismissed him from her mind, and to find him so close was alarming. He nodded at the scene outside.

‘Do you approve of this debauchery?’ he asked ‘I hardly think that it is fitting for someone of your rank. Why do you condone it by your presence?’

‘It doesn’t matter if I approve or not’ she drew herself up, her regal posture asserting itself ‘I’m of Royal blood and everything I do and say is scrutinised. Do you truly know what that is like, Anton?’ He stepped back in surprise and she continued ‘I thought not. You can pass through a crowd without guards around you, without being recognised, express your opinion without being criticised or causing a scandal, even though you are of noble blood. I’m not participating, as you see. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I can only watch while others enjoy themselves.’ She waved her hand over the scene in front of her ‘No-one is being harmed beyond having a sore head tomorrow. All over the country, people enjoy themselves in similar ways, forget their troubles, forget who they are for a short while. I don’t have that luxury.  I can never forget who I am.’ Anton’s eyes glittered

‘But it is a privilege to be who you are, and naturally there is a price to pay. I would be willing to pay the price, share your burden. I doubt the other suitors are so sympathetic’ She looked at him sharply.

‘Have you ever heard the saying that those who wish to have power are the ones who least deserve it?’

‘I disagree’ he said, that cold glint in his eye ‘If you are not prepared for what power can do, it can pervert and destroy your fine principles.’ Charlotte had caught sight of Drake approaching, and Anton followed her gaze, turning to see what she was looking at. He smirked and bowed to her ‘Just remember that when you make your decision, your Highness’ and he turned to leave, nodding his head slightly ‘Duke Walker’

‘What was that snake saying to you?’ Drake asked, his hands clenching and unclenching, half wanting to punch him, half needing to take the Princess in his arms and unable to do either.

‘It doesn’t matter, he won’t sway my decision’ she smiled ‘how are you enjoying the party?’

‘I’d enjoy it more if you were more involved’ he said, swaying slightly, keeping his distance ‘It’s killing me not to be able to hold you’ She looked at him sadly

‘I know’ she sighed. ‘I wish I could…’ she paused, and Drake stepped forward and smiled, taking her hand and squeezing it.

‘Speaking of which, I’ve come to invite you to our own private party behind closed doors’ Her face lit up and his own heart lightened at the sight ‘Max has put his rooms aside for what he calls the exclusive Charlotte and Friends only Beaumont Bash’ he rolled his eyes at the last  part. Olivia will come and fetch you in half an hour or so. See you there?’ Charlotte nodded enthusiastically.

‘Of course, Drake’ she looked over the balcony at the commotion below – the Emu had broken free of the leash and was running amok amongst the rose bushes making for the knot garden, and Max was chasing after it, guests scattering in all directions. ‘I hope Max is in one piece to enjoy it – and the other guests’

Charlotte followed Olivia up the grand staircase and along the corridor past her own suite. Bastien stood guard and gave her a little bow as she passed, and she took his hand to squeeze it in gratitude. On opening the door, she was greeted by Maxwell, Drake, Brad and…

‘Hana!’ she cried excitedly ‘You made it!’ the two friends embraced, Hana grinning from ear to ear.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t stay with you’ she said ‘I hear you had a bit of a time of it at Valtoria with Anton’ Charlotte groaned in answer.

‘That man was insufferable, so slick – so self-important. He even tried it on with me half an hour ago too, sneering at the ‘debauchery’’ she made air quotes with her fingers. She let her shoulders slump a little, then straightened up. ‘But now I can relax and be with my friends and not worry about being seen or overheard.’ Max stepped forward and hugged her tightly.

‘You’re like my big sis, and anything I can do to make you happy is my pleasure’ he mumbled into her shoulder, drawing back and making way for Olivia, whose hug was light and brief but nonetheless warm. Brad drew her into his arms and held her against his broad chest.

‘Charlotte, it’s been a pleasure discovering you and your friends, I never expected to be in a position like this. I value your friendship and hope I can be of service to you, for however long you need me’ Charlotte drew back, her hand still on his upper arm.

‘Oh, does that mean you’ll stay on after the Coronation?’ she asked, and he nodded

‘I will have to go back to England to sort out some business, but Olivia has offered me – shall we say ‘house space’, and of course you’d all be welcome to visit any property I may have over there’ Charlotte embraced him again, smiling. That left Drake, and she turned to him, eyes shining. In an instant they were together, moulding into each other as if they would never let go. Max nudged them after a while.

‘Hey you two lovebirds, plenty of time for that later - now we’re here to have fun. Charlotte, Olivia would like to show you something in the bedroom’ he looked at her and wagged his finger ‘Nothing naughty, just a change of clothes. But before that, just taste this’ he handed her a glass that was pink and sparkling.

‘Maxxie, what is this? she asked, letting go of Drake reluctantly ‘You know I don’t like getting drunk’ Charlotte had never been an enthusiastic drinker, as being royal she had to maintain some decorum, but her experience at the races when Bastien had walked in on the striptease show Drake and Brad were putting on had made her even more cautious. She simply couldn’t allow the risk of being seen to be out of control.

‘It’s just a little naughty’ he admitted. ‘I call it the Princesses Peril, but really it’s not as strong as cider’ She took a sip

‘Oh that’s not half bad – sweet with a hint of bitter, fizzy – it’s rather fun’ The younger man smiled at the assessment

‘The recipe’s a secret, but I guarantee you will just get a little merry, no hangover or headache’ he grinned. Olivia nodded to Charlotte and the two women disappeared into the bedroom.

It was only a short while before they emerged, and Drake caught his breath. Normally Charlotte dressed modestly with little exposed flesh, but Olivia brought her out in a scarlet sequinned dress that hugged her curves and left her arms bare, the hem flaring out into a ruffle halfway down her thighs. The scooped neckline was still not too daring, but Charlotte obviously felt a little self conscious wearing it, as she blushed furiously at her friends’ reactions. She wore her hair down from her usual updo, dark curls cascading over her shoulders. Max let out a long low wolf whistle and Brad stared, transfixed. Hana clapped her hands and jumped up and down excitedly. But the person whose reaction she sought stood rooted to the spot, mouth open.

‘Ch – Charlie, you look…’ he gasped ‘Spectacular. I never thought…’ he shook his head. ‘You – are just amazing, Princess. I’m glad you don’t dress like that in public, or I’d have a hard time not punching all the men ogling you’ Charlotte ducked her head down, feeling like a shy teenager at her first dance, looking up at him through her eyelashes. He felt as if his heart would burst with love for her, and he stepped forward to take her hand and waist.

‘Max, if you don’t play some music to dance to, I’ll be forced to take the Princess back into the bedroom and do some dancing of our own that nobody wants to see’ he grinned. Charlotte looked shocked and blushed to the roots of her hair. Max started up some music and they started to sway together.

‘Drake!’ she chided ‘How much have you had to drink?’ He put his lips close to her ear and whispered so that it sent a thrill down her spine and made her legs so weak she had to hold on to him.

‘I don’t need to drink, you intoxicate me’ he murmured. Her demure persona was fast crumbling as she felt the heat of his body. ‘You have no idea what I’d like to do to you.’ Olivia cleared her throat.

‘I think perhaps that dress was a mistake, we’re at risk of these two lovebirds disappearing to make their own private party’

‘I know, we need a drinking game – world’s most likely!’ shouted Maxwell ‘Come on you two, put each other down and we’ll play together’

‘Just wait to the end of the song’ pleaded Charlotte ‘we’ll be with you in a minute’ The two of them carried on, clinging to each other, her head on his shoulder, eyes locked. The sexual tension between them radiated outward, and Brad swallowed hard, looking over to Olivia.

Maxwell stopped the music suddenly, and Charlotte felt like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been cut so that she was in danger of falling limply to the floor without Drake’s support.

‘Right, enough of that. We came here to have fun, all six of us together, not pair off. This is the Charlotte and Friends only Beaumont Bash, you can smooch in your own time.’ Drake groaned and reluctantly pulled away from Charlotte. He was surprised when she firmly took his hand, stopping him from moving away.

‘As Queen in waiting, I hereby delay the inauguration of the festivities’ she said gravely. ‘You may indulge in sampling alcoholic beverages while I consult Duke Walker on my choice of consort’. Her eyes glittered with uncharacteristic mischief, and Drake swallowed. The others might not know that glint in her eye, but he did. He was used to her rapid switches from shy and demure to lustful and wanton, and he realised that he may be about to demonstrate to her some of the things he so desperately wanted to do. Maxwell slumped.

‘Fine, you two have some alone time’ he said in defeat ‘I’m going to turn the music up so if you feel like making some noise, we’ll be none the wiser, but you’re doing this all back to front. It goes ‘drink, play games, dance, smooch – and then the rest is up to you’ Charlotte held Drake’s hand tightly and led him to the bedroom, firmly closing the door behind them. Their bodies crashed together and their lips locked as he pressed her against the door and her arms went around his neck. Her body felt as if it were turning to water but his lips almost burned her and the pressure of his hands was urgent. They paused for breath, panting.

‘I’m sorry I – I could barely control myself’ he gasped ‘Since - your Father allowed me on the list of suitors - there’s been no-one else. I only want you, Charlie, and it’s killing me that I can’t do the things I want to. That dress was the final straw.’ She put her palm on his cheek, relishing the prickle of the slight stubble there.

‘Me too Drake, but you know why - that dratted Cordonian tradition of ensuring the royal bride is a virgin the day before her wedding. Thank goodness it’s not the day of the wedding – as soon as I’m Queen I’ll revoke it so no-one else has to suffer the way I have.’

‘So – it’s business as usual?’ he murmured, his hand smoothing over her stomach and down over her pubic mound, and the tingle she felt turned into a roaring fire. He reached lower and hiked her dress up, sensing her urgent need.

‘It’s been a while since we were together like this’ she said ‘I was glad I bought a couple of toys with me – did you miss us doing this?’ He nodded as he threw his tie to the floor and unbuttoned his shirt.

‘You have no idea. I thought of you in the shower – more than once’ he slid down her body, kissing her exposed belly as he went and hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, taking them down as he went. He lifted her leg to let the scrap of moist fabric drop to the floor, and hoisted her knee over his shoulder as he knelt. He looked up at her ‘I worship you Charlie, you’re my goddess’ She groaned and leant heavily against the door, feeling the heat of his breath on her thighs before his fingers gently started to explore. ‘You’re soaking wet, my Princess’ he murmured.

She threw her head back to rest on the cool timber of the door and put her hand gently on his head. She loved tangling her fingers in his hair. The one time she had been with someone else, when Brad demonstrated his oral skills, she was distracted by his short neat hair. She could gently pull on Drake’s locks to urge him on, and she loved that too. She was pretty sure she was rougher in certain passionate moments, but he never complained.

His tongue soon joined his fingers, and the heat and the tingle in her belly intensified. She couldn’t remain still, rolling her pelvis to the rhythm of his fingers. What he did didn’t matter, how it made her feel did – her orgasm was building. Their enforced abstinence of the past few days had not been satisfied by their solo efforts. They needed each other, needed to be close, and the few short moments they had stolen at Valtoria had only satisfied their basic need for comfort. The fire that burned in both of them could only be regulated when they were together.

She thought of him alone in the shower, water cascading over his broad shoulders, channelling down over his dark haired chest, to that v where his manhood lay, his belly flat, hips narrow and his buttocks firm. She pictured his member hard and long, his hand wrapped around it, stroking while he thought of her. As his fingers and tongue brought her closer to the edge, holding her there, she pictured his other hand on the wall of the shower, supporting him, shuddering as he picked up speed, his seed spurting and jumping from his member, his breath ragged. She wondered if he uttered her name as he came, wondered if the sound of the water masked that noise as it washed the evidence away.

All other thoughts were blotted from her mind as she let his name fall from her own lips, as wave after wave broke over her under his touch, his tongue, her fingers knotting in his hair. He slowed and paused and withdrew carefully to match her coming down, and supported her as she slid bonelessly down the door onto the floor. He kissed her and she tasted herself on his lips. She hugged him with her knees, pressing herself to his bare chest. He was hard as a rock and she longed to feel him inside her at last. She leaned back and reached to unbuckle his belt.

He stood and pulled her up, her legs still a little shaky. He took her hand and led her over to the bed to sit, and kicked his shoes and socks off. He stood in front of her, unzipping his trousers and letting them fall, stepping out of them. She looked up at him, pupils still large and dark. She reached out to take his hips and draw him closer, and drew his boxer shorts down.

‘That music had better be loud enough, Walker’ she smiled, licking her lips.

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