#dnd/fantasy au anyone? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kitten4sannie · 4 months

Text

ᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟᴇʀ

ꜱᴇx ᴘᴏʟʟᴇɴ/ʙᴜᴋᴀᴋᴋᴇ ➠ ᴍɪɴꜱᴀɴʏᴜɴʜᴡᴀ

pairing: half orc! mingi x elf! reader (fem) x barbarian! san x goliath! yunho x tiefling! seonghwa

genre: fantasy au/dnd vibe, humor, gratuitous smut

summary: you go on a quest with a group of brutish, questionable individuals. anything for some gold and riches, right?

w.c: 6.5k ish…..yeahhhh

the world’s longest list of warnings: alcohol mention/usage, soft/hard! dom party members, brat in the streets baby in the sheets sub! reader, these mfs have a hard-on for social hierarchies esp mingi (he’s a big pervert too hehe), mxm (real homies jerk each other off), monster fucking (mimic box…listen i saw it in a porn one time and its been my dream to recreate it since okay sue meee take me to court!!), five?? some?? idk they made it work somehow, voyeurism/exhibitionism, praise/degradation, pet names, olfactophilia, aphrodisiacs, teasing, vast size differences, size kink, strength kink, manhandling, oral (receiving), overstim, tit play, bulge kink, handjob, blowjob, titjob, all the jobs actually, double penetration made possible with magic incantations <3, creampies, back shots, and facials for everyoneeee !! one for you!! and for youuu~~ also the word cock is mentioned at least 50 times in this one sorry bout that hshjs

a/n: hi ahhhh so this chaotic jumble of insanity is my baby 🥹 and it’s also my very first filth fest fic of the month !!! so yk what that means ;3 go on and strap in for me okay? it’s about to go down frfr <3 this is a sort of sequel to my half orc mingi fic but it can be read on its own! also i’ve never actually played dnd,, i’ve just heard about it from my brother so don’t expect an extremely accurate representation;;; i did do quite a bit of research tho <33 but yeah that being said…. rip reader’s elussy </3

Now Playing:

ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴇʟʏ ᴅᴀɴ

0:01 ❍─────── 3:01

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“Ladies and gents, now this is a quest that’s not for the faint of heart,” your local guild master announced, leaning his heavy forearms on the crowded bar table below him, stroking his long, bushy beard absentmindedly, the wood furnishing of the bar creaking underneath his weight.

The lively room grew a bit more quiet, some individuals quirking their heads in the seasoned barbarian’s direction, yours included. “With a hefty 1000 gold pieces as your reward, this quest requires you to find and locate the rare lujuria plant, then bring its seeds back to me. Unfortunately for you lot, they’re only found in the abandoned dungeons near Mist Falls. Any takers?”

At the mention of the plant and location, most of the interested individuals turned back to their ale and friends, resuming their loud, enthusiastic conversations. You, however, couldn’t believe how idiotic the other patrons were. You could do quite a lot with 1000 gold pieces, and being a solo adventurer, you wouldn’t even have to share it with anyone. With dollar signs in your eyes and a spring in your step, you headed up to the busy bar, having to get on your tippy toes and wave your hand around past some of the larger patron’s broad shoulders until the guild master noticed your presence.

“Now, don’t tell me a dainty little high elf is interested in the quest I just announced. You gonna scare them off with your shiny hair and sparkly crystals?” the older man gruffed, letting out a hefty laugh, before taking a couple gulps from the oversized mug he held within his large, calloused hands.

When you simply stood there with your hands crossed over your lace-covered chest, the guild master set his mug down, his bushy eyebrows raising upwards. “Oh, you’re serious.” He leaned down to your level, cupping his hand around one side of his face, allowing you to smell the ale on his breath. “Do you know why no one likes to go to Mist Falls, little Miss?”

You shook your head, causing the small jewels that dangled from your silky hair to sway a bit. You cupped a hand around your own face, murmuring, “Why does no one like it, Mister?”

“There’s some strange wildlife that frequent the land there. Otherworldly things…things that an elf like you wouldn’t want to get wrapped up in,” he explained carefully, looking over the lens of his glasses to squint at you. “Unless, you’re into that sort of thing, of course.”

Not understanding what he meant by his vague statement, you shrugged it off, taking his underestimation of your abilities as a challenge you couldn’t bear backing down from. “I’ll take the quest, Mister, and I’ll bring you those seeds.”

The guild master smiled down at you, chuckling a bit, like you weren’t in on the joke that he was so amused by. “Very well, little Miss.” He handed you the rolled-up scroll, his lips still curled into a suspicious smile. “Good luck with your quest.”

Taking the scroll, you nodded your head at him, a smug smile painting your own face, as you turned on your heels to leave, reveling in the fact that your levels of commitment and intelligence were clearly in the upper echelons compared to the rest of the idiots that frequented the crowded guild.

Before you could leave without any issues, a deeply familiar, incredibly cocky-sounding baritone voice interrupted your mental victory dance. “Would you look at that. Gonna handle a dungeon all on your own, eh, princess?”

You quickly turned your head, your eyes landing on the tall, solid beast of a half-man, half-orc standing with one hand resting on his leather-bound hip, his golden eyes slowly studying your body with an almost nauseating amount of interest. “Mingi…” you sighed, the events of your last few meetings flashing through your brain, the tips of your ears turning a faint red. “Oh, you think I can’t handle a stupid quest on my own either, huh?”

He shook his head, his shaggy silver hair falling in his eyes, forcing him to swipe it out of the way with his large ringed fingers. “Nope.” His simple response encouraged his equally large, equally intimidating party members, who were hanging out near him, to laugh and chatter amongst themselves.

Now your hands were on your hips, getting hit by a wave of annoyance, your cheeks burning. “Watch me.”

Mingi took a step towards you, just to show you and anyone nearby just how much he towered over you, his lips quirking up into a shit-eating grin, still peering down at your body like he could already picture what you looked like without the form-fitting lace dress that was wrapped around your curvy body like a pretty present, one that he wanted to open as soon as possible.

“With a petite little body like yours?” He reached down to slip a finger into your hair, playing with one of the crystals that adorned it. “Yeah, so small and delicate, like a pretty little fairy, ain’t ya? Those monsters in that dungeon will swallow you whole.”

You might’ve hated Mingi to an extent, but he was good. Good at making you feel tiny and desirable, and so wet, you were afraid he’d be able to smell it from where he was standing. You closed your thighs together slightly, lowering your closed fists to your sides, leaning forward. “I-i’m not a fairy, you dumb orc! I'm an elf! And I don’t need your help!” Just as you turned around to leave, Mingi cleared his throat, making you turn your head back to glare at him.

He placed his other hand on his hip, letting his weight shift to the opposite side, his head tilting the other way. “Sweetheart, listen, I know you’re very capable of getting what you want,” he mused, chuckling softly at the way your face scrunched up slightly in embarrassment. “But, I’m sure you could use some extra party members to back you up. Me and the boys want to help you. Won’t you let us?”

You gazed at Mingi a little while longer, before your eyes shifted to his friends, first drawn to the most elegant-looking tiefling you’ve ever seen. He had sleek skin that looked like expensive marble, his hair as white as the frost that would cover all the lands during the winter months, his heavy horns ridged and curled into an ‘s’ shape, and black as soot, his thin, pointed tail quietly slithering around in a snake-like motion behind the long black cloak that hung from his pointed shoulders.

“That’s Seonghwa,” Mingi informed, with his arms folded across his wide tattooed chest. “Doesn’t talk much, unless it’s to cast a spell or call me stupid.”

Seonghwa’s pretty lips formed a smirk, wrapping his arms comfortably around his slim, corseted waist, his sharp, milky eyes focused intensely on you, like he was peering through you and straight into your soul.

“Oh, are we introducing ourselves?” someone said excitedly, your eyes following the voice upwards until they landed on the handsome face of the gentle-looking goliath standing besides the tiefling. At roughly seven feet tall, the broad man sported shiny, golden locks, pretty brown eyes, and a tribal tattoo that was plastered on his veiny neck, clad only in a thick pelt that sat comfortably around his solid waist, wearing matching furry cuffs on his thick forearms. “I’m Yunho! I like to get drunk and smash stuff. What do you like to do, elf girl?” The goliath stepped forward to shake your hand, his hand completely encompassing yours, your neck almost hurting from having to look up at him.

“Hi, Yunho,” you replied, smiling softly, feeling a bit dizzy from your vast difference in sizes. Everything about him was just so big, you couldn't help but wonder what else was too. “I’m Y/N. I like to go on quests and collect gold.”

“Don’t tell me we’re actually going to help a high elf,” the last party member interrupted in a low voice, sneering, showing off his large, rounded canines when you looked past Yunho to scoff at him. “And an annoying one, at that. I don’t care if she’s fuckable. This is still a waste of time.”

Yunho put a large, warm hand on your shoulder, covering it completely. “Don’t take San’s words seriously, sweet. He bullies people when he likes them.”

The brooding barbarian folded his arms over the thick, furry pelt that covered his broad upper half, rolling his eyes, a few strands of his wild raven hair falling past his forehead. “Or maybe I just don’t like stuck-up little elven brats, ever think of that, Yunho?” His pronounced eyebrows joined together in a bout of sudden fury. “Huh? Can you even hear me up there, you oversized son of a bitch?”

A faint blush appeared on Yunho’s cheeks, smiling in San’s direction, before looking back down at you. “See? He loves me.”

You returned his smile with a grimace. “He loves being a dickhead too, apparently.”

“Excuse me?!” San growled, about to walk up to the both of you to prove that he only loved moonshine, his trusty club, and himself.

Mingi stepped in front of San, waving his hands around exasperatedly, wishing someone presented a dialogue skip option a long time ago, bored of the introductions. “Alright, alright, so are you coming with us, or not, princess? What’s the verdict?”

You rolled your eyes, opening the large entrance door of the guild, eventually letting out a long sigh, glancing back over your shoulder with a pout. You knew you had a slim chance of surviving without them, but you still had your pride. You let out a small hmph, annoyed when they still all just stood there waiting, encouraging you to stomp your silk shoe down on the ground, grumbling, “Ugh, are you coming, or what?”

Mingi and his friends chuckled amongst themselves and elbowed each other, amused by the amount of fiery zealousness your tiny body possessed, finishing their mugs of ale, eventually following you out of the guild and onto the dirt road.

“Hurry up! I wanna explore this dungeon today, not during the next winter solstice!” you called out to them, already at the forest entrance, tossing your head back in an exaggeratedly annoyed fashion.

The half-orc waved his hand around nonchalantly, despite his large lower canines growing more and more visible the more he began to smile, pulling out a small pair of lace panties that had a familiar design etched into them. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your little elf panties in a twist,” he chuckled, bringing them up to his face to take a sniff.

Your inquisitive expression melted down into one of horror, then scrunched again, this time pleading him with his eyes. “Mingi…don’t tell me you’ve kept those all this time.”

“Of course I have, princess. In fact, I jerk off with them every chance I can in your honor. I can cum real hard just from knowing I turned a high elf onto orc cock forever. I still remember like it was yesterday,” he sighed dreamily, wiping away a fake tear, like had just said the most romantic sentence even known to orckind.

“I still fuck elves, you twat! I don’t need you or your stupid orc cock!” you argued, turning away so that none of them could see how flushed you had gotten, heading into the forest by yourself.

“That’s a damn lie. You showed up to my hut like three times during the Great Hunt not too long ago,” Mingi explained, following after you, his friends following beside him. “Don’t you remember? I had to carry you home after you passed out from squirting too hard.”

“No!” you shouted from ahead of him, swearing you were going to melt into the floor.

“She’s got elven pride, that one,” Mingi sighed, admiring you from behind. “Anyway, I got her soaked panties to prove it. You want to see them, don’t ya, Hwa?” Mingi elbowed Seonghwa, who just shook his head in disappointment, while he continued smiling truimphantly to himself.

࿏࿏࿏

Your group took on a range of opponents, from skeleton armies to disingenuous slime cubes that you may or may not have fallen into, able to pass through quite a few levels of the dungeon, mostly due to Seonghwa’s spell casting abilities, San’s uncontrollable rage, Yunho’s knack of destroying anything he came in contact with, and Mingi’s axe-wielding skills. Did you want to admit that to yourself? Sure. Out loud? No, of fucking course not.

You picked off bits of pink slime that still clung to your wet form, grumbling under your breath about how sticky you felt, not even noticing that some of the slime had already absorbed into your skin.

“Need a little help there, princess?” Mingi mused, reaching down to your shoulder and wiping off some of the slime for you, his fingers tingling once he had done so.

“I suppose so,” you murmured, standing still so that he could continue helping you, surprisingly not even that bothered when the other members of your newfound party all gathered around you and picked or pulled off the remnants of slime that remained on your body, face, and hair.

As you entered the next room, all five of you noticed how the tinglyness remained, how it spread throughout your bodies like a gentle ripple effect, your bodies now collectively hot to the touch, though no one said anything to each other — at least, not yet, anyway.

“A chest!” you gasped excitedly, putting your dagger back into its respective holder and running up to the large, gold-plated chest that sat at the edge of the room, just waiting for someone to open it up and collect its contents.

“Don’t be stupid, elven brat. Not all chests are filled with treasure. Some of them could be decoys. You know that, right?” San rested the rounded bottom of his ginormous club down onto the dungeon floor, leaning on it, raising an eyebrow at you. “Or do you only familiarize yourself with crystals and orc cock?”

“Shut up!” You held onto the barbarian’s insult, rather than hearing him out. “You’re just saying that because you want the treasure for yourself!” You got on your knees in front of the chest, muttering, “Selfish prick.”

“What’d you say?!” San barked, his hand squeezing around the thick handle of his weapon.

Mingi slung an arm around San’s tense shoulders, smiling as though he was quite pleased with himself. “She’s got a mouth on her, huh?” He met San’s grimace with a shoulder squeeze. “Don’t worry, Sannie. She’s gonna learn the hard way.”

Yunho walked up beside Seonghwa, lowering himself down to sit on the cool stone ground with a thud, wiping a bit of perspiration that had formed on his forehead. “I’ve been feeling weird since we left the slime room, Hwa. Can you cast a healing spell?”

“Yeah, me too, now that you mention it,” Mingi called out, rubbing his sweat-covered neck with his free hand, encouraging San to open his own black furry coat, revealing an expanse of sweaty, tan, tattooed skin underneath it.

Seonghwa nodded his head in agreement, waving his hand around in front of him, manifesting a large glowing violet pentagram into existence, which eventually disappeared after the spell had be casted completely, a faint glow still visible around the edges of your bodies.

“Mm, I don’t really feel any different…” Mingi mumbled, his hot-blooded body even more tingly than before, starting to feel like he could fuck someone into oblivion right at that moment, even more than usual.

Once you had opened up the chest, ignoring the subsequent pounding inside your chest and cunt, you were met by a multitude of shiny, gold coins just waiting for you to take. “Holy shit, I’m rich!”

“You better split that with us, before I split you in half with my cock, stupid elf!” San griped from where he stood, now a bit hunched over, his words slightly slurred, not even fully realizing what he was saying.

“Wh-what?!” you squeaked, your ears bright red, turning your head to look at the barbarian in disbelief, not even noticing when the chest in front of you began to sprout limbs, a long, slimy tongue slipping out past the gold.

“I said, I’ll split you open–” San fully dropped his club, which resulted in a resounding thud inside the small room. He pointed an accusatory finger in your direction, blinking at you through his hazy vision, using his other hand to grab at himself through his furry kilt. “–with my big, barbarian cock!”

Yunho pointed at you as well, wanting you to notice the big monster that was about to have its way with you. “Um, Y/N, you should…”

“Not now, Yunho, I have to tell this idiot barbarian to suck my clit!” you informed angrily, holding your middle finger up at San, which he returned enthusiastically.

“Oh, yeah? Then, get your fucking ass over here and sit on my face, you elf slut,” San barked back, sticking his tongue out at you, still holding onto Mingi, appearing drunker by the second — though it wasn’t alcohol running rampant through his body. It was lust. The rest of them were feeling it too.

“Slut? I’ll show you slut,” you grumbled, about to stand up and give San a piece of your mind, your fist, and possibly your body when the mimic suddenly snatched you up with its long limbs and pinned you to the floor. “Oh my god, what’s happening? What the fuck is that?!”

San simply chuckled, leaning his back against the cold concrete wall of the small room, trying to cool his intensely heated body down. “That’s a mimic, dummy. I’m sure you can handle it though, since you’re so tough.”

Mingi looked to his friends, biting at his lip, noticing that none of them even attempted to assist you, more concerned with finding out what the monster was about to do to you. Even Yunho, who was the only one with any semblance of a conscience out of the entire party, somehow couldn’t bring himself to get up, instead answering to the oversized tent that was forming underneath his pelt.

The mimic pinned your wrists together above your head with one strong hand, using the other to lift one of your legs up into the air, breathing harshly as it studied your slick cunt through your tiny lace panties, eventually licking a long stripe up your body, from your pussy up to your chest, leaving your white garments completely soaked and see-through.

Trying desperately to free your hands from the monster’s unwavering grip, unable to prevent more slick from leaking out of you with your legs being held open, you angled your head back to look at the upside-down versions of your party, crying out, “Are you fuckers just going to sit there and watch?!”

“Yeah…we are, sweetheart,” Mingi sighed out, still leaning on San, a few drops of sweat cascading down his flushed face. He dragged his tongue across his teeth, breathing in the flowery scent of your arousal, inhaling so deeply his bull ring shifted slightly. “I’m sure you got it handled. Just tire it out with that wet fucking cunt of yours, will ya?”

A strong wave of pleasure pulsed through your body at Mingi’s response, looking to each of the members, realizing that they were really just going to observe as you got pleasured by the monster, getting more aroused by the second. What was wrong with you? You would’ve contemplated it more, but any thoughts you had would completely fizzle out once the mimic’s tongue came in contact with your cunt, licking you up and down in a rapid, desperate fashion. Its tongue was so heavy and hot against your pulsing cunt, you couldn’t help but cum within a few minutes, your body going limp. “Fuuuck, oh my god…”

“Came nice and hard, didn’t you?” Mingi continued to share his filthy words with you and his party, all five of you reacting positively to it. “I can fucking smell it, princess…” His smile twisted into a faux pout, his voice dripping with lust. “That tongue isn’t enough for you though, is it? Mm-mm, not nearly enough. You need cock stuffed inside your tight elven pussy, don’t you, darlin’?”

All you could do was let out a long pathetic whine, your flushed, fucked-our face giving Mingi and the boys the answer they needed. Now that you weren’t fighting back, the mimic lifted your lower half up into the air, positioning you so that its tongue could slither inside you, pistoning it in and out of your willing hole, your upper half hanging upside down, your tits bouncing with each of the mimic’s thrusts of its wet appendage, your writhing body on display for your party members’ viewing pleasure. “I’m…going to…kill you all…for watching…” you huffed out in between moans, drool slipping out past your parted lips.

Mingi turned his head to share looks with his friends, all of them now dealing with the same almost painful predicament. “Are you all as hard as I am…?” When they nodded, he felt a little less guilty, reaching down to rub at his leaking cock through his kilt, able to feel how stiff it was even through the thick material. He gazed down at you, biting at his bottom lip, holding onto the thick leather of his body harness, trying not to blow his load too quickly. “It feels good, doesn’t it, princess? I can hear how just how sloppy that mess of a cunt is…Do you like the way it’s fucking you senseless with its tongue? Is it filling you up just right?”

You couldn’t believe just how turned on you were in the moment, hardly about to breathe in between your bouts of pleasure, your body beginning to sieze up when the mimic shoved its tongue as deep as it could go, causing a prominent bulge to form inside your lower stomach. “S-so good, Min, gonna cum again…”

“Cum for us, baby, that’s it…” Mingi sighed, leaning his shoulder against San’s, noticing how he began to play with his cock through his kilt, doing his friend a solid and reaching over to stroke the base of it for him.

Groaning underneath his breath, San reached over to help Mingi out as well, the both of them hyperfixated on the way the mimic drank up your juices as though it needed it to live. Seonghwa and Yunho were in a similar position, but instead of answering to their aching cocks, they simply watched on, the visual stimulation clearly enough for them.

The mimic lifted your limp body upwards so that you were on your knees, with its large, agile tongue fitted in between your trembling thighs, grabbing you by the waist so that it could drag you back and forth along its long, slimy appendage. “Just like that, oh my god, it’s so–fuck–” you gasped, barely able to look at the men that were huddled around you, the new position not allowing you to hide away from their hungry gazes, your body on full display for them.

With his hand now fully hidden underneath San’s kilt, Mingi nodded his head at you in approval. “That’s my naughty little elf girl,” he praised you in a gravelly voice, groaning at the sensation of San tugging at his dripping cock from underneath his own pelt. “Let me see you cum one more time for us, princess. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Mingiii, I’ll cum for you,” you whined obediently, reaching down your shiny, wet body to rub your clit around through your thin, soaked panties, unable to keep your mouth closed anymore from how hard you were breathing.

“What a good listener you are, baby. Look at you playing with your tiny little clit without me having to ask. Such a good elf girl you are,” Mingi continued to praise you, knowing exactly what made you tick, his hand squeezing around San’s throbbing length.

San let out a higher pitched moan, his body beginning to tremble against Mingi’s. “I can’t believe you–unnh–managed to tame her so easily…”

“It wasn’t hard, Sannie…fuck– She may be a brat, but she’s a good girl at heart…” Mingi was beginning to fall apart as well, San’s calloused hand continually rubbing along his cock enhancing the pleasure of watching you willingly playing with yourself while you rode a monster’s tongue, his party’s presence filling him with even more warmth. “Cum for us, sweetheart, show us how pretty you are when you fall apart…”

Mingi’s praise-filled request mixed with the sensation of your puffy clit grinding along the mimic’s slick tongue sent you barreling over the edge, cumming so hard, you saw stars, barely able to grasp at the dagger that still sat inside its holster.

Meanwhile, San and Mingi both began to groan and shudder against the cool dungeon wall, shooting their hot loads onto each other’s hands and the insides of their pelts. Seonghwa and Yunho both coated their own undergarments with white, biting into their bottom lips so hard they just about broke the skin.

They were all so deep in their wells of ecstasy that they hardly even noticed when you let out a war cry and stabbed the mimic with your long dagger, rendering it dead, causing it to fade away in a flurry of sparkly, white dust, leaving a few gold pieces for you to take.

“I told you I could fucking take care of myself,” you grimaced, shoving your items into a small pouch you had hanging from your upper thigh.

Once the post-nut clarity set in, Mingi cleared his dry throat, scratching at his prickly chin. “I mean, you did defeat the mimic on your own, so credit is due when credit is due, princess. You just used your pussy to combat it…which is just as valid as using a real weapon, don’t get me wrong–”

“Shut it!” you simply yelled, your face so hot, it probably rivaled the surface of the sun, stomping past the recovering men and pushing the next door open once it unlocked itself, wasting no time to enter the last floor of the dungeon where the supposed lujuria plant was said to grow.

“Let’s go help her out with that plant. And remember, whatever happens, happens. Just know I’m not fucking any of you.” Mingi patted San’s shoulder, looking over to the other members of his party with a playful smile.

San smacked Mingi’s back playfully, which Mingi returned. “Let’s put that elf brat in her place.”

Mingi nodded. “Yeah, on my cock where she belongs.”

Seonghwa scoffed from beside them. “Could you be anymore crass?”

Yunho patted Mingi’s and Seonghwa’s shoulders, practically dislocating them, smiling goofily, his cheeks and face flush from the energy he exerted. “What happens in the dungeon, stays in the dungeon, boys.”

Seonghwa quietly nodded his head in agreement, until he murmured softly, “Indeed.”

࿏࿏࿏

“Where are you, you stupid fucking plant?” you called out inside the vast, foliage-covered room, swiping at the overgrown leaves and plants that were in your way, almost tripping over a few vines that grew in and out of the broken-up cobblestone floor below your feet.

The rest of your party followed your lead, Mingi and Yunho taking the initiative to cut down the thicker plants and foliage that stood in your way with their axes, almost completely out of breath when you finally came across a large pink plant growing in the middle of the room.

“I’m assuming that’s it,” you said mostly to yourself, slowly walking up to the plant, impressed by its intricate petals and inviting flowery scent. “It’s not as scary as I thought it’d be. It’s almost…pretty…”

Just as you reached out to touch it, Seonghwa opened his mouth to warn, “Wait, don’t–”

As soon as your slender fingers came in contact with one of the flower petals, the plant sent out a puff of dusty pink pollen directly into your face and the air around your party, before folding in on itself and growing comically large spikes to protect its core which contained the golden glowing seeds you needed to complete your quest.

You began choking and coughing along with the others, reaching out blindly through the thick pollen, finding solace in Seonghwa’s arms, who began reciting a spell to lessen the effects of the plant’s attempt at self defense, but it was too late. Mind-altering desire had already set in. “Can’t breathe…can’t think…” you whispered, grabbing at Seonghwa’s chest, unbuckling his top and revealing his smooth, marble skin, henna-like tattoos decorating his jewelry-adorned collar bone.

Seonghwa clutched your shoulders, breathing just as profusely as you were, murmuring, “Don’t think, then, silly elf,” before pressing his mouth onto yours with haste, his long, snake-like tongue slipping inside your mouth to explore it.

Strong, solid hands grabbed at your hips from behind, Mingi pulling them back so that he could grind his cock into your ass, his lips already ghosting along your neck. His deep, gravelly voice made you let out a weak moan into Seonghwa’s mouth when he sighed, “Gonna fill your cunt full of my cum, sweetheart. So fucking full.”

“Then, I get to fill her slutty elf cunt with my tongue first,” San interrupted, already on his knees, positioning himself in between you and Seonghwa, not hesitating to tear your skirt and panties apart to access your rapidly dripping cunt. “So pink, so pretty…” He attached his drooling mouth onto your clit, sucking so roughly, your knees almost buckled underneath you, about to completely collapse when he plugged your hole up with his hot tongue.

Seonghwa pulled away slightly, finally letting you breathe without having his tongue down your throat, instead completely shredding the front of your dress with his talons, just in time for Mingi to groan and cup your tits, squeezing and moving them around, saliva leaking past his plump lips. “I always know exactly what your idiotic orc brain is thinking,” he sighed at Mingi, bringing his own hands up to tweak and pinch at your nipples, making you cry out.

“Oh, yeah? Can you read my mind right now, Hwa? Can you tell that I’m about to stretch this elf’s little fuckhole wide open with my fat fuckin’ cock?” he said near your twitching, elongated ear, his hard length slipping in between your thighs to rub along the underside of your cunt, his dark eyes settled on Seonghwa’s before returning to your slick body, their hands moving in tandem to play with your tits, each getting a chance to squeeze your squishy flesh and tease your increasingly puffy nipples.

Yunho, who was hard beyond measure and feeling a little left out, walked up to the side of you and reached down to show off his enormous cock, the slick , oversized tip an angry shade of red. He pouted down at you, letting out a small whimper. “Can you please help me out, sweet? I’m so hard, it hurts…”

Unable to resist his puppy-dog eyes, you nodded, licking your lips, collecting his vast amounts of pre-cum at the rounded tip with your fingers, eventually using it to slick up the rest of his cock, doing your best to jerk him off with your small hands. “Does that feel good, Yunho?”

“So good, doll,” he gasped, leaning his head back, not registering when he began to thrust his hips forward into your hands, using them like a fleshlight.

You’re so big, Yunho, fuck– I can hardly wrap my hands around it…” you sighed out, opening your mouth to lick at the tip of his cock each time he thrusted into your hands. Your mind went blank, until you suddenly remembered that San was in between your squeezing thighs, devouring your cunt like it was his last meal, his tongue and lips wreaking havoc on your clit, his thick fingers shoved inside your pulsing hole.

“Like the way I’m eating this cunt of yours, eh, elf girl?” San mumbled in between slurps, gulping your juices down, a few dribbles of it cascading down his veined throat. “You don’t even need to answer, love. I can tell you do just from the way you’re fuckin’ squeezin’ my fingers.” San groaned deeply, watching the way you dripped for him as he continually went knuckles-deep inside you, biting his bottom lip, growling, “Cum for me. Cum all over my face, you brat. Fuckin’ do it.”

You unraveled almost instantaneously, getting your creaminess sucked off of your slit by the desperate barbarian, not even noticing that he had been jerking himself off so roughly, he had already made himself cum before you did.

“Goddamn it, since when did high elf squirt taste so fuckin’ good?” San mumbled drunkenly to himself, licking at his swollen lips, prior to sucking your cum from his fingers noisily.

“You’ve had your fun, Sannie boy. It’s time for this little elf girl to experience the pleasure of getting broken in by real men. Hwa, you know what to do,” Mingi announced hastily, already bringing you down to the floor so that you were about to slowly take the half-orc’s cock in your cunt from behind, Seonghwa supporting your front, the tip of his tail already brushing back and forth over your swollen clit, rubbing his large, ridged cockhead on your puffy lips to slick them up with his pre-cum, his own plump lips moving at a quick pace, expertly reciting an incantation that would allow you to physically take two obscenely large cocks at once, all well as increasing your natural lubricant and allowing you access to heightened physical sensations.

“Fuck, look at you…What a good little elf girl you are, taking us both inside you like this,” Mingi sighed into your ear, reaching around your body to lazily rub your wetness into your sensitive clit. “Almost like you were made to take monster cock, huh? Not made for little elven peckers, it seems.” He pressed his hand into your lower abdomen, able to feel the pronounced outline of his friend’s abnormally large length. “Mm, that’s right. You loved being stuffed full of monster cock, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Love it, Min, so much,” you choked out, your mind going positively blank, the only thing on your mind being the insanely pleasurable stretch you felt inside your core, knowing you were quite literally filled to the brim. “Feels so good, I can’t think.”

“Why think when you can just feel good, princess?” he chuckled, rubbing your tummy in an up and down motion, feeling the outline of Seonghwa’s thick, ridged length with his calloused fingers, shuddering from the sensation of their slippery cocks rubbing along one another inside your tight, slick walls . He nuzzled your neck and the side of your face with his prickly cheek, whispering onto your skin, “M’ so proud of you, sweetheart. I broke you in before and now here you are, taking big tielfing cock in your pussy while an orc’s stuffing you just as full. What a pretty sight you are. Wish I could take a picture.”

“Oh my god, Mingi, please, it’s so–” you could hardly verbalize, your eyes just about rolling into your skull, your body pulsing with so much pleasure, you could barely keep up with what was happening around you.

Mingi routinely filled your elongated ears with more filthy words, Seonghwa gazing deeply at you, your willing hole continuing to clench around their thrusting cocks, getting stretched so pleasurably, you almost passed out from that sensation alone.

All the while, San positioned himself in from of your tits, squeezing them together and driving his cock back and forth between them, grunting and groaning each time.

Yunho gently grabbed your chin, coaxing your mouth open as wide as it would go, whispering, “That’s it, my sweet, just a little wider…” He began to feed you his cock, stuffing your mouth full and instinctively fucking your throat, your jaw already beginning to ache from the obscene girth. “You’re so tiny…can barely take it…huh?” Moaning breathily, Yunho eventually settled for fucking the inside of your gummy cheek, afraid that he would suffocate you if he continued to throat fuck you.

It seemed that this quartet had been in this exact position before. That was clear to you now. You couldn't have been more wet and willing if you tried. Getting used by two filthy men while two more watched and desperately tried to get off using your body in any way they could filled you with a sense of purpose you didn’t realize you had always sought after.

“You want our cum in your pretty elf cunt, princess?” Mingi huffed, in between harsh, deliberate thrusts, his hands cemented on the reappearing bulge in your stomach. “Huh? You want us to make a mess of you, aye? Want to be fucked so full of our seed, you’ll give us pretty elven offspring?”

Once Yunho freed your saliva-streaked mouth from his suffocating length and resorted to jerking himself off, you were able to reply in a fucked-out, slurred voice, “Yeah–yeah–yeah– fill me up, wan’ it all. All your cum, in me, on me, I need it, pleaseee.”

Your willing party members’ highs all crescendoed in succession, Mingi resorting to sloppy, rough thrusts inside your tight hole until he spilled most of his load into you, his cum splashing onto Seonghwa’s cock, dripping along their lengths to form a milky rim. “Oh, fuck, that’s it…but I’m not done yet, princess…I gotta–nngh–leave my mark on my favorite elf…” He slowly pulled out with lewd pop, coaxing a few more cum shots out of his cock with a large, closed fist, watching the large milky droplets slide along your smooth skin and torn sections of your dress onto the curve of your exposed ass, his eyes creasing with clear adoration. “That’s more like it…”

“W-was that necessary…?” you murmured, trying not to cum just from the sensation of getting stuffed full of cum, sensing that Seonghwa was next in line to come undone inside you.

“Oh, my gods, I…see heaven,” Seonghwa gasped sharply, the whites of his boundless eyes glowing brightly, his lips parting to allow a shaky moan to escape. Seonghwa gripped your hips so tightly, he was bound to leave handprints, relying on slow, deliberate strokes, using your contracting cunt to milk the cum from his cock, unable to resist leaving a few drops on your clit and mound when he pulled out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum all over these tits, you little elven slut, take itttt,” San gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening, only having to pump himself between your slick, pre-cum covered tits once more before he was able to leave thick spurts of white all over the bottom of your heated face and lips, leaving most of his load on your messy tits.

“O-oh, godddd…!” Yunho came last, and the most, closing his hands around his reddened tip, whining profusely, unable to keep himself from completely unloading all over your pretty face and hair, practically drenching you in his cum.

Mingi reached down to cup your chin, tilting your head back so that he could get a good look at you, admiring the way their collective seed dripped off and out of you, swearing he could shed a tear from such a beautiful sight. “Look at you. My pretty princess.”

You gently nuzzled his large hand, smiling contentedly, tasting the salt of someone’s load on your lips when you licked at them. “Your pretty princess…”

It took a while for all of you to come down and catch your breath, the effects of the pollen still practically running through your veins, but you managed to wobble your way over to the main plant and slowly pull your trusty dagger out of its holder, slashing the plant until its precious seeds dropped into your open palm. You looked down at the golden, glowing seeds, your fingers still splattered with milky liquid, reminding you of the trials you conquered to get to your ultimate goal. As you wiped your sticky face with your sleeve, you looked around at your panting, much more docile party members, wondering if it was all worth it.

Mingi brushed some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes, noticing the way you were looking up at him, sending a cocky smile your way. “So, you’re 200 gold pieces richer, princess. How does it feel?”

“Huh?” you questioned immediately, your fingers closing around the pouch that contained the precious lujuria seeds. “It was 1000 gold pieces. Did fucking me stupid render you stupid instead?”

“I’m sorry, darlin’, but with each party member fee, it rounds out at 200 a person,” he corrected you, bringing you in to give you a gentle hug and a pat on the ass, chuckling delightedly to himself, his friends joining in on the amusement. “That’s still quite a bit. You can buy yourself a pretty new dress since yours is all torn and drenched in our cum, ya’ know?” He leaned his head in your direction, twiddling his large thumbs, his smile growing more lewd. "That means I can have the one you're wearing right now, yeah?"

You grimaced, your blood boiling over, already stomping your way out of the last dungeon floor, your voice still growing louder and louder the further you walked away, swearing to yourself, “This is the last time I do anything with you, Mingi! Never again. Never! EVER!”

Mingi simply waved off at his friend’s questioning gazes, holding the seeds that you had taken from the plant inside his own hand, admiring their shimmering edges. “Don’t worry. She always comes back.”

fff taglist: @itza-meee @chnt1 @k-hotchoisan @wonyobie @vampiregirl215 @yuyusbunny @christmastodoroki @luvt0kki @pieyoon @goldnhwa @choisanboobenthusiast @icyb3rry @maximofftrash @choism @yunhosmelonbar @nebulousbookshelf @astayinwonderland @slutologyy @10nantscompanion @ddaeing @pandagirl-016 @Randomgirl11-posts @staytiny816 @horanghae8 @smally97 @ateezzzser @crispybaguettes @bubblegumbird @midnightmaja @i2nsstuff @asimpelslut @svt-dinosaurus @wisejudgedragonhairdo @deathbyyeekies @firefox79 @wildesreblogs @everyonewooeverywhere @raspberrysannie @Whatintheninerealms @hyunjinsbby (if i couldn’t tag you pls check your privacy settings <3)

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#february filth fest #cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #wonderlandnet #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #yunho ateez #ateez seonghwa #choi san #san smut #mingi smut #yunho smut #seonghwa smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #kpop smut

1K notes · View notes

jazzyblusnowflake · 2 months

Text

OKAY SO

since yall wanted me to talk more about this Demon!Uzi and Hunter/Exorcist!N,V,J au I'm just gonna write down my ideas here just to get them out of my head-

thanks to @purrple-bat for helping with some of the ideas :D

some details may be nsfw cuz i mentioned it previously so that's your content warning🔞

also there may be plot holes and its not fully complete or whatever im just trying to get this out of my head 😭 main ship is NUziV // ViolentBitingBiscuits

the Au is an urban setting- not a forest and fantasy dnd kinda thing-

Tessa is the leader of several groups of teams that are demon hunters and exorcists.

J, V and N are in the same team and those are their codenames.

Uzi is a halfie, with Khan as the human parent and Nori as the demon parent. they are referred to as "Changelings" too.

Uzi cannot be exorcised from her demon side or she will become a mindless unresponsive zombie. methods have still not been found on how to exorcise these demons and disabling their powers without killing them, mostly due to the lack of anyone caring.

Demons feed on different things related to humans, mostly their emotions, with a heavy preference on fear, pain, anguish and etc

some more bolder demons will kill or drink blood of humans but even in the demons society that's a taboo and if any leads are traced back to you being a demon, you will be eliminated by your own kind before the humans can get to you.

Uzi was caught by accident, fully blended in as a human.

She's cheeky and likes making humans miserable and playing around with them, but she's not really one of the threatening ones, she doesn't want to or care about hurting them.

Doll is a full demon and is kinda like a sister figure to Uzi, always advising her to get away from humans and she might end up getting hurt or some shit.

Nori has multiple lovers, she feeds off the love and lust but she considers it a just a treat, she's actually one of the most powerful demons around and absolutely loves feeding off of nightmares, trauma, horror and dread. she does have a soft spot for khan tho as her only human lover. khan is generally just dumb for loving a demon as his wife. smh

Nori is a high ranked demon meaning she could share her energy with other demons if any of them would want to pass as normal humans and just live in society. also could send out demons to capture or punish one of their own for breaking rules.

Uzi starts out weak but upon capture, bluffs a lot about how powerful she is and that she likes to play around with them.

They keep Uzi to get information out of her about other demons.

On attempts at getting away she does end up getting closer to N.

Uzi likes feeding on misery and angst but the genuineness of Ns affections made her thirsty for more.

She ends up also getting closer to V from bantering and sometimes talking about stuff and etc and sometimes sparring and fights when she attempts to escape. N saves V at one point before Uzi did some real damage. V grew to actually respect her more after that.

Uzi was let go after a while since they checked and she wasn't really at a power level to threat anyone [much to Uzi's resentment that she could be powerful if she wanted to >:( ]

Hunters and exorcists have magical seals hacked into their bodies for protection. their arms have these symbols that can be used as weapons that appear in translucent shapes like claws and shields and swords. 5 pair of vertical eyes appear above their heads and a glowing X marks their face when they are using their powers- marking that the demon cannot get into their heads. their eyes glow gold once using their powers despite the original color of their eyes.

the same kind of powers and seals appear on demons but they don't hack it into their bodies, they gain it with ranks. demons have human forms and demon forms, changelings are just weaker from the beginning. unless they are possessed...

V and N start giving Uzi "treats" whenever she helps them out in catching more dangerous demons. this ranges from kisses, bites, their blood toooooo more intimate stuff :3 at first this starts out as an idea to get her to talk but after a while V couldn't help but to feel affection towards this pint sized little gremlin.

Uzi gets overwhelmed when she is showered with affection by being in the middle of V and N, she is touch and affection starved and she gets easily addicted to it, wanting to claim the two as her own.

V and N putting seals on Uzi that makes her enjoy their touches and intimacy more but edging her and keeping her from releasing until she gives them the info they need. Uzi probably would tell them the info anyway- she just likes to see how far she could handle the two before she breaks into a begging, pleading mess.

Uzi purrs and does everything in her power to keep anyone from finding out...

Drinking demon blood makes Hunters gain more power, and drinking human blood makes demons feel pleasure and ecstasy as well as gaining more power, especially if the human is a hunter/magic user.

Uzis wings are sensitive and she likes to clean them with a wet cloth. N and V like to help her with this. and her tail mouth too lol.

The demons have a hellish demon sect that even they all fear... i think you can guess who the head of it is...

Aaaaand i think thats all for now idk. bye- //exploads

217 notes · View notes

bunnyreaper · 3 months

Text

wc - 4.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), age gap (older male younger female), bodyguard!au, threat of violence.

notes - another visit to dilfville, a new series, because that's all we need, right? lol. hope you enjoy ♥

Friday nights meant one thing: unwinding after a long week of working in your home office, braving the outside world, and heading to the comfy flat belonging to your friend Jules.

While visiting her place was always a blast, Friday nights were for DnD. Leaving behind Earth for its fantasy counterpart and getting lost in the adventures of your group's merry band of do-gooders.

Saturdays are usually spent drinking coffee, frequenting markets, and then rounding the night off with cocktails and dancing. (And Sunday's recuperating from being up on your feet all night, spending the day in bed reading whatever trashy romance novel is next on your reading list.)

Your weekends are your sanctuary—your freedom from routine and work is your refuge.

You dance around your bedroom, rocking your hips to the music as you pull on your clothes—a white blouse and black bustier to channel the vibes of your character Elora.

When the doorbell rings, it's entirely unexpected. Anyone close to you knows you're just a few minutes away from heading out for the night—maybe it's a neighbour, you suppose to yourself as you head to the door.

On the other side of your flat's door is an incredibly handsome man. Broad framed, ruggedly good-looking yet with a finely pressed white shirt and dress trousers. His features are striking, strong eyes and a brow slashed with a scar, stubble all over, and a neatly trimmed mohawk that strangely suits him. All in all, a sight for fucking sore eyes, standing so confidently and casually in your doorway like he belongs.

You hate how your eyes linger on his form far longer than they probably should, but the handsome stranger is just so enthralling.

"Hello?" You mumble, a little absent-mindedly, as you try to gather thoughts that aren't just lewd and dirty.

His stormy blue eyes meet yours, his cheek tugs into a half-smile that definitely doesn't meet his eyes, the faintest dimple appearing on his left cheek. "John MacTavish, ye maw sent me."

"Oh, the bodyguard." You reply dumbly. Fuck. If you were opposed to the idea before, you certainly were now... or maybe you're not.

On one hand, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you—on the other, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you, while you act normal about the entire thing.

You realise that you're acting completely the fool, so you snap out of your thoughts and step aside to allow the older man inside. "She didn't tell me to expect you... probably thought I'd run. Uh, come in."

"Thanks." He nods as he steps through the threshold, ducking slightly as he does.

Once inside, his eyes scan over the open-plan space of your living area, seemingly taking in every little detail.

You watch him, sensing that his training and experience make him focus on the minute particulars of a room that others would completely skip over.

Your mother had already clued you into the fact there might need to be security enhancements to the flat itself, and you assume those requests came at the behest of the man himself. He seems to be lost in evaluating what these might be.

"So, what can I do for you?" You ask, filling the air with some sort of conversation starter. You have no idea what you're doing in this situation on the whole, but especially not when it comes to hiring, negotiating with, and retaining a bodyguard.

"It's what I can do fer you." He turns, taking you in now, and you start to feel self-conscious about having too many buttons undone, too much chest on show.

Something tells you that MacTavish's gaze would make you squirm regardless—his eyes carrying a heaviness to them that seem like a fantastic attribute in a protector. Surely anyone who would even think about coming close to cause you harm would reconsider under his harsh look.

You start to wrack your brains for what he can actually do for you. Again, you have no familiarity in having personal protection, beyond what you've seen your mother undergo. Your work is fairly stable, you keep the same routine, and the biggest threat you ever seem to face is the creeps in the club.

Well, apart from the online threats, but something about the anonymous, cowardly messages doesn't frighten you.

"If I'm being honest,I don't exactly want a bodyguard. I don't see much of a point?" You admit, voice a little quiet. After all, you don't mean to upset or offend the man, but you're not sure he isn't just wasting his time with this job.

He squints, considering for a moment before he answers. "Yer maw sees things differently."

She does, and that's probably the only reason you agreed to go through with this in the first place. You don't want to worry her, especially since her own security has had to be tightened due to said threats.

"Yeah, she's really worried."

John's brows furrow, a small frown appearing on his lips. "Aye, rightly so, considering everything."

He seems serious and said severity gives you pause for thought. His job is to assess and protect against threats, so surely he wouldn't be here, acting the way he is were there not a valid reason for concern. The thought makes a lump form in your throat, makes your stomach twist in a way you'd rather not acknowledge.

You try to cope with it the best way you know how—humour.

"Eh, online threats are nothing new for a girl my age, you know? And it's not like I'm anyone important." You shrug it off, hoping that if you say the words aloud, they'll just come true. As you speak, your phone chimes with a notification from your group chat, reminding you of your upcoming plans—and the fact you're going to have to abandon this little meeting. "Uh, I'd offer you a cuppa, but I'm leaving soon."

"Don't drink it anyway, but thanks." The man smiles slightly, before turning away once more and scanning the room. He cranes his neck to get a look down the hallway, leading to your bedroom and bathroom. "There's a difference between lads online, an' the kinda people that make up extremist groups like those targeting your maw and her party."

"Really?" You laugh, a short, sharp sound that betrays your discomfort. You grab your jacket and keys by the door, desperate for something to fiddle with. "Thought they were all just sad loners, desperately searching for something to make them feel better."

"Except some of them have connections, dangerous connections."

There are a million and one reasons you don't want to go through with this, and very few urging you to. Though, removing a major worry from your mother's life is a big one—John MacTavish's gorgeous blues are another. The possible invasion of privacy lingers in your head, the worry that your father might be using this as an opportunity to have the inside track on your life, on all the things you don't tell your parents. Your mind also revolts at the idea of unnecessary restrictions to your plans, your friends being held under a magnifying glass.

The thought of the threats being real is the only thing more startling. You sigh, resigning yourself to your fate. "If this is what will help her feel better, then I guess I better find a way to make this work."

He nods firmly, joining you at where you hover nervously at the door. "I'd agree."

"Unfortunately, you arrived at the worst possible time, because like I said, I'm just headed out. Can't miss the tube." You force a tight-lipped smile, making your excuse to leave—the thought of being late makes you jittery, the thought of being late continuing this difficult conversation makes you feel worse.

"Where ye going?" He asks, head tilted.

You know it's the first question of many. Where are you going? Who are you going with? The atmosphere already feels a little stifling, the relationship a little strained. You and John aren't friends, never will be friends. He's here to do a job, watch over you, and take your security very, very seriously.

"This is how it's always going to be?" You ask, the question coming out a little snappier than you intend it to.

John takes it in stride, unblinking in the face of your shortness, and yet unrelenting in his need for information. "Aye."

Once more, you sigh. "Right... I'm going to my weekly DnD game at my friend's house, and please, I really don't wanna cancel." You plead, feeling like a child reasoning with their parents rather than two adults on equal footing. You hate the feeling, even if you know his intentions are pure.

"How many friends?" He asks.

"4." You answer instantly.

"How long have ye known them?" His questioning continues, and his focus on the people you trust naturally drives you up the wall, even if again, you know it's just his job.

Your grasp on your keys tightens, your agitation growing. "I'll tell you whatever I can some other time, but please, I hate being late." You gesture to the door, indicating that it's time for him and you to leave.

John grabs the door, opening it for you and allowing you to step through before he does. As you turn to lock the door, you expect him to arrange another time and to bid you farewell, but he doesn't. "I'll drive ye. Dinnae bother arguing, lass."

His words have a finality to them that quiets you anyway, but the use of 'lass' renders you all but speechless.

"Okay..." You mumble, leading the way down the stairs as his hand comes to ghost along your lower back.

MacTavish’s vehicle is parked out in the street, and as you approach the car, you can feel his eyes searching again. He beats you to the car, a sleek black Range Rover, opening the door for you before climbing inside himself.

The action would be nice under any other circumstance, and such propriety is something you're probably going to have to get used to, but right now it just reinforces the annoying, infantilising feeling that you're currently suffering through.

As you give your friend's address to John, he takes off without another word, flicking on the car stereo before he goes. The atmosphere is thick, stifling, and you can only hope that in time the feeling will lessen, especially if your mother makes him a permanent feature.

On the way over, he picks up his questioning where he left off. "So, how long have you known this group?"

"A good few years, since uni."

"We can go over names and details when you're ready."

You take a deep breath, holding it in and then forcing yourself to calm a little. Instead, you try to focus on watching John, the diligent way he drives. "I'm assuming you have a long list of things we'll need to go over."

His eyes don't stray from you. "Aye, that we do."

The two of you fall into tense silence for the rest of the drive, nothing but the music and the sound of the car to keep you company. In the quiet street your friend lives on, John pulls in to park on the opposite side of the road, killing the engine and the radio, making the silence almost deafening.

Your nerves are getting the better of you again, and yet John seems so comfortable, unperturbed by the awkwardness. You're unsure what comes next, what to say.

"Not to be rude but, I'd prefer if you didn't come in." You utter, saying the first thing that springs to mind, despite it probably not being the best thing either. You flash the man an apologetic smile before you continue. "I don't know how to deal with all this, especially when we haven't agreed on how all this is gonna work?"

You hope your earnest admission makes up for your temporary ill-manners.

"Tha's fine, I'll stay here." He looks completely impassive. "Not ideal, but it'll do."

He doesn't look bothered by the inconvenience, and you suppose you should assuage him of the idea it's going to be a quick visit.

"Really? I'll be gone for a few hours."

His brow quirks. "Yer maw paid upfront, so as far as am concerned, my job's already started." Once more, his statement is absolute, and you don't bother trying to argue.

"Right then."

John is out of the car first, headed straight to your side of the door, checking left and right before he opens to let you out.

The action makes you both laugh and curse, perplexed by the deed as you climb out. "You're not my driver, you know you don't need to open the door for me?"

He laughs too, derisive and short as he closes the door a little too sharply. "Not tae be rude, but I believe the words you're looking for are 'thank you'."

"Gonna walk me to the door?" You ask, trying to shed yourself of your nerves and make the situation lighter.

You can't stay tense and subdued for the entire duration of this relationship—besides, now you're moments away from reuniting with the others in Albion Vale and forgetting all about this mess for a few hours. That alone is enough to raise your spirits.

John forces a cheeky, tight-lipped smile, the crow's feet at his eyes crinkling almost condescendingly. "Not feeling tha' gentlemanly anymore. I'm sure ye'll be fine."

"I'm sure." You make your way halfway across the road, before coming to a realisation, stopping and turning. "Oh, what's your number, you know, make this whole thing easier?"

John darts out, his arm falling just beside you as he ushers you across the road and onto the other side.

"Pass yer phone." He says, holding out a large, rough hand expectantly.

"Right, yeah." You nod, probably more than is necessary, as you pass your phone over to the man.

John takes the phone more softly than you expect, typing in his name and number before holding it back out for you to take. "I'll be here when yer done, to take ye home."

"Uh, thank you." You take the phone, before walking away sheepishly heading into your friend's block of flats and toward her apartment.

With each step you take, you try to push John and the threats and everything to do with the outside world far, far out of your brain.

The night passes by in a flurry of laughter and fun, lost in the adventures of Albion Vale and the antics of your party.

The session wraps up, and while you would usually be in no rush to head back—you know you can't sit around and leave John, however much a stranger he is, sitting in the car outside.

You text him to let him know you're headed down in five, and when you make it to the street less than 3 minutes later, he is there, leaning against the car door waiting for you.

"Thank you." You whisper, climbing inside. When John joins you in the car, he scrubs at his eyes before putting the key in the ignition. "Have you not been bored out of your mind?"

"Nothing I'm not used to." He replies instantly, pulling away before you can ask any further.

"What did you do before this?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

From your understanding, most bodyguards cut their teeth in the police or the armed forces, and have tonnes of experience under their belt.

John oozes an ex-forces demeanour–his perfect posture, constant alertness, and the scars littering his skin.

It'd be hard not to notice, but becomes immediately obvious with the way your eyes seem to love settling upon him when they can. You have to force yourself to squash down the drunken, misguided lust that flares within you as you watch his large hands on the steering wheel and notice his veiny, hairy, and muscular forearms.

"Army, Captain." He answers, pulling your attention back to him in a more professional manner properly.

Something within the way he speaks makes you think there's more to the story—though you suppose with that kind of background, he has a cache of secrets and tales that he can never really share.

"Oh." You nod, feeling a little soothed. If you have to be protected, you suppose someone with his level of experience is the best man for the job. "I'm in good hands then."

Once more, he flashes a forced half-smile. "Aye."

A moment passes, and you find more questions bubbling to the front of your brain. Naturally, you're curious about this man who is undoubtedly going to become a big part of your life from now on, but the fact that his nature is a little reserved makes your curiosity multiply. You've long been a sucker for closed-off older men—call it a character flaw.

"Why did you leave the army? If you don't mind me asking."

There's a beat of silence where you think he might not answer, but eventually, he does, eyes still fixed on the road.

"Medical reasons. Nothing that affects my ability to do this job." He rushes to add, a slight spark of defensiveness flashing through as his jaw visibly tightens.

You're no expert detective, and you haven't seen your protector in action, but your first guess is that whatever ailment made him leave isn't entirely physical. The fact he's been somewhat open about it puts your mind at ease, the fact that your mother has clearly vetted him even more so.

You offer an empathetic smile that he likely doesn't see. "I don't doubt it."

The drive home passes quicker and easier with a bit of mead in your veins, allowing you to loosen up enough to hum along to the music playing from John's speakers. The little buzz passing through you alleviates that sense of trepidation you felt earlier, luring you into a false sense of security.

When the car pulls up and John lets you out, you know just what to say what needs to come next. "Well, I guess you should come in so we can formalise things."

"I'd appreciate it." He nods, before turning back to the car to grab a bag and follow you into the building.

You and John sit at your kitchen island, tea in your hand and coffee in John's—a neat, stapled stack of papers sits before you.

"Here's the contract I signed with ye maw, but she's given us some wiggle room." John says, tapping the top of the paper where the bold letters of CLOSE PROTECTION AGREEMENT — 141 SECURITY sit.

"Nice of her to allow me a say, if I'm honest." You laugh dryly—you love your mother dearly, but you'd be lying if you said she wasn't overbearing. Your initial protests about this whole arrangement had been entirely shut down, and clearly, she didn't trust you to follow through considering she sprung John on you tonight, unannounced.

"I'm sure she just wants what's best for ye." John offers as you flick through the pages.

The contract outlines the agreement between the Guard and The Principal—with stipulations on activities, compensation, and conduct.

It's weird seeing it all laid out on paper, seeing the hefty cost of John's services, and the fact you'll be giving this man free access to your home and life. All of this to keep you safe from some nebulous threats that have not even been acted upon.

"She does, but this is inconvenient, and frustrating to say the least." You purposefully choose not to include the words 'fucking annoying' and 'torturing me with a hot man I can't have', though your next conversation with your therapist will absolutely include such descriptions and more.

"I can understand tha'." He nods understandingly, before raising his coffee and taking a sip—his gaze unwavering as he does. "You've never had close protection before?"

You shake your head. "No, this is all new to me."

"Okay. We'll start by discussing exactly what kind of protection you're looking for. Part of tha' will be dictated by what yer maw laid out, like I said, we can decide specifics."

"Sounds like a plan." You lean back in your stool, tea in hand as you contemplate. Admittedly, you should have done some research before this, but in your defence, you did think you had more time. You're not entirely sure what boundaries you can set—but you hope that John can lead the process a little. "I don't think I can do something 24/7, and it's not like you can stay here, I guess."

You cringe internally thinking about how fucking awkward that would be—your tipsy brain supplies the image of the world's most uncomfortable sleepover.

In your imagination, John looks grumpy and uncomfortable, still tucked up in bed in that stiff shirt with his boots still on. You are, of course, in little fluffy bunny pyjamas staring at him all gooey-eyed whilst he tries to pretend everything is normal. It takes conscious effort for you not to giggle at the mental image.

"I understand. I'd suggest I escort you anywhere outside these four walls, day or night, work and social events. Conduct security checks on your flat, vet close contacts, update your digital security, things like tha'." John supplies a rundown of potential actions like it's a grocery list, yet a very severe grocery list. His collected nature does put you more at ease.

"Sounds a tad invasive."

"I'll try to make it as little as possible."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." You smile slightly, truly thankful for his consideration and tact.

You give John a once over, thoughts once again ticking over. "If you're going to be with me everywhere, you can't walk around like that, outside of my work, that is. No offense, it's just, all my friends are gonna think I'm a self-important twat if I start showing up everywhere with some posh bodyguard." You stop abruptly, realising how much you're bloody rambling.

"Am far from posh. But, more casual look then, aye?"

You smile a little nervously, hoping you haven't completely offended the man. "Please."

This whole situation is beyond difficult to navigate—untreaded paths, forging new relationships, balancing existing ones. Your friends really are going to think this whole situation is beyond bizarre. They already find amusement in seeing your mother on the news. Having a bodyguard is going to leave you subject to endless teasing, relentless mocking, and attempts to make your and John's life a whole lot harder.

Your head falls into your hands as you rub at the sockets of your eyes, undoubtedly smearing your makeup and making a mess of your face. It'll get easier, you reassure yourself.

With your eyes closed and pressed into the heel of your hands, you don't see the way John's expression softens or the way he moves closer to comfort you before hesitating and stopping short. "Wha's the matter?"

"I'm just... incredibly anxious about how this is going to play out with my friends, with work."

John leaps into problem-solving mode, immediately pulling from his brain some words to soothe you, as well as making note of what bumps in the road to smooth out. "Ye mother said she already consulted yer work, and they're fine to make accommodations."

Of course, she'd already talked to David about the whole thing. "So it'll be fine aside from all the gossip it will cause."

"It's politics and I ken yer not naïve, everybody's talking anyway, no?" He offers, and yet you don't seem assuaged, so he tries a different tactic. "It's my job to blend in. They'll barely notice me."

"With that haircut? Sorry." You giggle—surprisingly you find the mohawk suits his rugged look, but it certainly isn't something you've seen on a man that wasn't walking the streets of Camden. Though, even with a more fitting haircut, the man is so casually striking and ever so slightly imposing that he just naturally draws attention. "In general, you don't strike me as a man who does blending in well, not in civilian life anyway."

His eyes narrow for a moment, before he struggles to fight off a smirk. "Hmm, ye might have a point. Not changing ma hair though, sorry. Nae sure ye family has enough money for tha' one."

His more playful side makes your heart soar, and gives you hope that everything might just be alright.

"I have a crazy idea." Okay, maybe you're more tipsy than you thought you were, as your brain supplies an outlandish plot and your mouth runs away with it.

His eyebrow arches and his eyes sparkle with intrigue. John MacTavish seems like a man who likes crazy ideas. "Go oan."

"I'll tell my friends that you're my boyfriend, and we're just so madly in love that you have to come everywhere with me. Means no real questions."

Your proposition is met with deafening silence, despite the huge, encouraging grin on your face.

John laughs, just the once, before his expression hardens. "Not a chance, lass."

"Why? You don't have to really do anything. Besides, it'll save you sitting outside in the car, or staring from the shadows and making everyone feel uncomfortable."

You realise now that while you noticed a distinct lack of a ring, there's the possibility that John is still attached, and what you're suggesting is wildly inappropriate—but it's not that point he argues on.

"Aye, so I just have to spend ma time socialising instead." He scoffs.

"Well, surely you're not brooding and mysterious all the time." You wager.

Once more, he finds a smirk tugging at his lips that he can't hold back. "No' at all, but it's been a long time since I was the life of the party, and something tells me that me an' your DnD friends don't have a lot in common."

"They might surprise you, but you also might surprise yourself. Maybe you're a secret nerd." You wink, still being jovial before you shift back to your genuine pleas. "It'll make my life a whole lot easier and be one less thing for me to stress about. My friends wouldn't second guess the story much once they got past the shock of me bagging someone older, wiser, and oh-so-handsome. Please."

You flash your softest, sweetest doe eyes and lay the compliments on extra thick in the hopes of swaying him. In the political world, you're used to using charm to try and get what you want, and know that without charisma you'd get nowhere. Perhaps it's a bit low of you to stoop to using flirtation on someone who could likely run rings around you when it comes to negotiation, but it's worked before, and at this point, you're desperate.

John straightens up in his seat, eyes you for a moment, and then lets out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine."

The fact he relents honestly takes you a little by surprise. You're relieved, but yes, surprised. "Huh?"

"Fine, I'll be whoever ye want me to be..." The look in his eyes shifts to something imperceptible, as he leans over the counter closer to you. "As long ye listen to what I say when it comes to yer safety and security. Deal?"

He holds out his hand, and your own feels dwarfed when you reach out to take his calloused palm.

"You drive a hard bargain, John MacTavish. Deal." You shake, and neither of you makes a move to immediately let go.

"Aye, a know." He winks, and the action makes your heart skip a beat, your cheeks flood with heat.

Each second passes slowly, his touch feeling like too much and not enough all at once. You know at that moment that life from now on is going to be especially difficult as long as John is around.

What he says next is the final nail in that particular coffin. "Would've done it anyway, but glad I got ye to agree to ma terms, lass."

#soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #bunny writes #run to you

365 notes · View notes

dcartcorner · 7 months

Text

a fantasy/dnd au because i can't help myself and the thought of ancient blue dragon simon who disguises himself as a human brings me joy.

please enjoy this small one shot ft. s1 adventuring crew (please excuse any errors, writing is not my strong suit!)

Rumours at the Tavern Characters: Tim, Simon, Sasha, Martin, Jon Ships: none

It wasn’t what Tim would consider a nice tavern. He had performed in nicer ones, ones where the counters were meticulously cleaned and the patrons were at least passably polite to the serving staff, and a mug of ale would set you back a silver piece. This place was not quite like that.

Then again, Tim had been to worse sorts of dives.

The Lazy Storm sat right smack in the middle of the two kinds of taverns, perched on the cliff side overlooking the choppy seas of the western coast, amidst the fjords in the town of Killn’s Rest. Not a bad place, not a good place. Just a place, somewhere to find some warmth, a quick meal, and something to drink. It was also the sort of tavern that didn’t take fire hazards all that seriously, if the number of people making merry that evening within its walls was any indication of the owner’s outlook on safety. It was busy, to the point where crowds spilled out onto the street even though the summer had come to a close and the winter, with its biting chill, was fast approaching.

Perhaps that’s why Tim noticed him - the old man. Because he was sitting on the bar top.

There were few other seats around. Sasha had managed to charm their way to a table of their own earlier in the night while Martin tried to see about rooms, and their party had stayed planted at said table all night as the crowds slowly but surely filtered in for the evening. They were lucky, in this regard, as many other people were forced to stand shoulder to shoulder. Not that old man, though. Perched on the edge of the bar like a bird, smiling kindly at the person next to him.

And his choice of seat was not the only peculiar thing about him, Tim thought. He wore clothing that Tim could only describe as ornate. If this was one of those nice taverns Tim had played in, he might have expected that sort of the look, but this wasn’t one of those places. This was the Lazy Storm, and that man was incredibly overdressed.

“It’s weird, right?” Tim said aloud. Martin looked up, then glanced around. Sasha craned her neck to look at him. Jon didn’t look up from his book. Tim nodded in the direction of the old man. “Someone dressed like that in a place like this. That’s odd, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Sasha shrugged.

“Where?” Martin asked.

“Good on him, getting dressed up to go out for a night,” said Sasha.

“I think it’s weird,” said Tim. Because it was.

“Where?” Martin asked again. “Oh. Him? I mean. I suppose it’s… well, it’s a little odd.” The twist of a frown at the corners of Martin’s mouth. “Someone should offer him a seat.”

“Seems happy enough where he is,” Sasha said with a huff of a laugh as the other man at the bar leaned closer to the old man and whispered something to him.

“Could we please focus,” Jon finally interjected, shutting the book.

Tim rolled his eyes as he took a swig of his drink. It wasn’t silver coin ale. This was a copper-piece-per-tankard-ale, and it tasted like it. Which was to say, it tasted like a good night in the making.

“Have any of you actually asked anyone about any jobs yet?” Jon said.

“Asked just about as many people as you,” Tim said. By this, Tim meant: none.

“There’s a rat problem in the sewers,” Sasha said, “according to one guard. Doesn’t pay well, but at least it pays.”

“There are bandits, too,” Martin added. “Uh, just out east of here. Somewhere. Apparently they have a den in the woods? But I think someone might’ve already taken that one.”

“Mm.” Jon was not impressed. He looked over at Tim. “Anything?”

Tim raised his hands. “Don’t look at me, I can get a job whenever.” Plenty of people out there who were willing to pay for some good music. “Or did you forget who bought the rooms and drinks?”

Jon leaned his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands momentarily. Then looked up at Tim and said, “Could you please just. Ask.”

“Jon, maybe we should just… take a night off?” Martin suggested. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing…”

Jon shot him a look and that was the end of that conversation.

Well, didn’t matter. Jon didn’t have to join them in having a good night if he didn’t want to. Tim wasn’t going to let it bother him, and he got up to go order another drink with his own hard earned money, ignoring how much lighter his coin purse was compared to earlier that day.

Why was it his problem anyway, that they didn’t have much in the way of coin? He wasn’t going to let it get to him. It wasn’t getting to him. He and Sasha and Martin were just some poor souls dragged along on Jon’s pointless quest to find some answers that had nothing to do with any of them. So why did it matter?

It didn’t matter.

Dammit.

The old man was not the first person he asked that night about a job. As he waited for a drink he asked the person to his left and to his right, but neither of them were keen on talking - and it took him a little too long to realize they were part of their own adventuring party based on the matching bands on their arms, and wouldn’t be sharing any information with him. He tried to ask the bartender as well, but she was too busy to give him any answer that was not a look of inconvenience.

Tim sighed. And he kept asking, until finally his route around the tavern brought him to the old man at the bar. Sat there, dressed strangely, looking for all the world like he should be just about anywhere else.

“Are you quite alright?” the old man asked him. Tim blinked. “Not that I mind, but I’ve been told it’s rude to stare.”

Had he been staring? “Sorry,” Tim said. The old man smiled at him.

“Something I can do for you?” the old man asked.

Tim looked around briefly. The other person with whom the old man had been speaking earlier that night was gone. “Don’t suppose there is,” Tim said. “Unless you know of any get rich quick jobs around this place.”

The old man chuckled. “Well now, I can think of a few, but I’m not entirely sure those are the type you’re looking for,” he said, resting his hands on the head of his cane which he had propped up on the empty edge of one of the bar-stools. “Tough times, out there. Or so I hear. Something about the supply and demand of it all, I think. Too many adventurers, too few problems that need solving! At least around these parts.” The old man sighed thoughtfully. “This coast isn’t what it used to be. Time was you couldn’t take two steps on the road without running into bandits or cultists or a proper mountain troll. Now you’d be lucky to find a good sized rat nest to clean up.”

“Yeah, well. Killing rats doesn’t pay well,” Tim said.

The old man smiled, watching Tim over the rim of his glasses. His eyes were sharply blue, Tim noticed. “No,” the man agreed. “No it doesn’t.” He tilted his head. “Terribly sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to go further afield to find anything.”

“Thanks anyway,” Tim said, defeated.

“Although,” the old man said as Tim was turning away. Tim paused and looked back at him. “I’ve heard a rumour. There have been a few ships that have come into the harbour with some particularly strange news out of the Shivering Straight. Up north. Word is there have been a handful of whaling ships that have gone missing around Helkelson Bay. Only a couple of survivors. Those that do manage to best the frostbite say… well. You know how sailors can be, always creating the most fanciful stories. A ghost ship, they say! The mayor of Helkelson isn’t altogether convinced it’s anything so peculiar as that, though I hear he’s offering a handsome reward to anyone willing to… solve the problem. Whatever that problem may be.”

“Helkelson?” Tim said.

“That’s right,” the old man replied with a smile. “Ask around the docks, I’d say. Plenty of merchant ships coming and going that way. Of course, it’s only a rumour.”

Tim smiled back. “Better than nothing.”

It was at that moment the old man’s companion returned and gave Tim a wary look. Tim took it as his cue to leave with a nod of thanks and an imaginary tip of the hat before he returned to the table to join his companions.

“Let me start,” he said to them, “by saying you’re welcome. Now, any of you been to the Shivering Straight?”

#tma #the magnus archives #dnd au #fantasy au #tim stoker #sasha james #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #simon fairchild #fic #one shot #yes tim is a bard #fanart

319 notes · View notes

victor-needs-help · 2 months

Text

LOOK AT MY AWESOME (Lame) FANTASY AU PAL

More info

This au is like DND fantasy stuff x mcsm

The main plot is that the world is ruled by 3

Lords (aka the admins) and one of the lords is planning something terrible and the other 2 don't really care

So Jesse makes a plan to stop Romeo and invites Olivia to help them (Axel and Lukas kind of forced themselves in due to not trusting Jesse with Olivia alone) and go on an epic adventure to save the world

Jesse tells them about a wizard called Ivor who lives in Romeo's area who can help them, but the thing is they need to get things from the other two lords by defeating them. Which scares the living fuck out of the three

So off they go on the quest to kill gods and

MAYBE save the world

Bonus lore

Jesse is mostly not with them fucking off from time to time to get them weapons and supplies to defeat the lords, None of them know how he does this and he's not telling anyone so they just think he's magic or something

The lords designs

Ignore the forth one……

#mcsm #mcsm fanart #minecraft story mode #mcsm jesse #mcsm lukas #mcsm olivia #mcsm axel #mcsm Fred #mcsm xara #mcsm romeo #DNDMCSMAUTHING

130 notes · View notes

dailymothanon · 2 months

Text

Shoutout to space honestly it goes pretty tough 🙏 hummm I think I’m leaning more towards just an overall fantasy au rather than a dnd one so I hope that’s alright 🐶 I mostly just really like the designing and storytelling of it; this piece here is just me figuring out how I wanna render him, idk how to go about the coloring yet tho!

What a crazed thing… I wanted to make Alaska a space critter thingabajig , here’s a bunch a sketched for it! There’s a lot of thought behind this and I don’t really have the time to type it all out so when I do I’ll post it if anyone would like 🐶 for now, fluffy space fella, it’s what Alaska would’ve wanted trust me 🙏

#Reposted cuz idk if it got shadowbanned or what #welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt headcanons #wttsh #wttt alaska #wttt au #wttsh alaska #wttt fanart

62 notes · View notes

wrongdodo · 13 days

Text

DoL DnD AU Part 1: Roll For Initiative

DoL DnD AU: inspired by this post

Genre: Fluff. Preciousness. Enid Blyton-style snacking scenes. Wholesome sappiness.

Characters: Wizard!Robin, Rogue!Kylar, Cleric!Faithful!Sydney, Barbarian!Whitney and DM!Reader (All written as gender neutral so you can live your fantasy)

Word count: 2534

Summary: It’s the first Dungeons and Dragons session with a brand new group, and you’ve graciously offered to be Dungeon Master. What could go wrong?

A/N: Look what you made me do! I’m writing FLUFF now! 2534 words of it! JK I loved this, hope you do too.

Hope the everyone-being-gn thing is okay – you’re a smart cookie, you’ll figure out who’s who, I believe in you <3

Credits: Thanks to @fungus-no69 and @yourfuckeduptherapistfriend who helped me out with some characterisation queries - plus anyone that's shared ideas. This is a team effort - love you!

“Our story begins in a small, picturesque village called Coxhollow… which sits on the edge of a deep, dark forest…" you check your notes, steadying your voice. "The village elders have summoned you to the… they’ve summoned you to… Uh, Kylar… Kylar? You can’t really be so close to me while we do this…”

You take a deep breath to steady your nerves. It’s showtime.

“Oh, s-sorry…” Kylar mumbles, noisily shuffling their chair back across the creaking floorboards and coming to rest a more suitable distance away. The sound made you wince - Bailey was sure to hear it. The group gazed on, eagerly awaiting the rest of your description. It was too late though - you’d lost your train of thought.

In real life, our heroes sit at a rickety table in the Orphanage loft. Cobwebs criss-cross the rafters above, and a stark bulb flickers, casting eerie shadows as wind howls through the joists. It wasn’t ideal, but it was cosier than it might have been. Robin had helped you add a little comfort to the space; threadbare cushions had been slung on rusted folding chairs, and a modest selection of snacks and drinks formed a small but cheerful centrepiece. Despite your reservations, the excited look on Robin’s face was already making it feel worthwhile. They grinned on the opposite side of the table, unable to suppress a giddy bounce that made the brim of their home-made wizard hat wiggle.

Robin had been through a lot lately. So, offering to organize and lead a short campaign felt like the least you could do to lift their spirits. They were a massive nerd, of course - you’d seen them running short adventures for the younger orphans, and had seen how the game provided them with some welcome escapism. Robin was a fantastic DM - but they bemoaned the fact that they rarely had the chance to play. So, you’d offered to try running a bit of something yourself – Robin made it look straightforward, and they’d promised to step in if you needed any help. How hard could it be?

Sydney was an obvious candidate for the group - you only had to show them the giant rulebooks filled with beautiful illustrations to pique their interest. Although they seemed a little nervous about making it to sessions with their busy schedule, you had no doubt they’d enjoy the game.

Including Kylar made a lot of sense too – it definitely felt like something they’d be into. They practically snapped your hand off when you brought it up during English class – but were slightly less enthused when they realised other people would be involved.

Noticing your daydreaming, Robin gently coaxes you back on track. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great,” they beam from under the floppy brim of their hat. “Maybe now’s a good time to hand out character sheets? We thought it’d make things quicker for our first session…”

You nod, grateful for the assistance. As Robin handed pre-rolled character sheets to Syd and Kylar, you took a moment to check through your notes and go over how the session should progress. Breathe.

Adjusting their glasses and peering to see in the dim light, Sydney reads through their character. They hum with interest. “Half-elf cleric…” They tap the page with one finger, turning towards Robin. “That’s a healer, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Robin nods, impressed that Sydney had already done their research. “But you can do plenty of damage, with spells like Sacred Flame. And Inflict Wounds.” Sydney looks pleased, unzipping their pencil case and immediately starting to make a few notes in the margin.

“I- I already have a character…” Kylar stutters, producing a crumpled, stained sheet from their bag and handing it to you expectantly. It was a little damp. You scan the sheet – it didn’t entirely make sense. There were a few lines of scrawled description, some abilities you’d never heard of, and some numbers which seemed way too high for what you had planned. A smudged sketch dominates most of the paper, and you notice it’s not too dissimilar to the one you’d seen in Kylar’s locker. When you spot the character’s name, your eyes roll.

“This is… me, Kylar,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “That’s my name… and this is clearly a drawing of me…” you thrust the creased page back into their hand.

“N-no, it’s… it’s my half-drow-half-kitsune vampire… aren’t they beautiful?” Kylar protests, eyes glassy. You’re not sure how to respond.

“Sorry Kylar… I don’t think we should allow homebrew races…” Robin offers gently, attempting to reduce the tension. You’re thankful for the backup. Kylar dejectedly stuffs the sheet back in their bag and looks over their assigned character - a halfling rogue. They don’t look completely disappointed.

“I hope you like what we picked,” Robin smiles – you’d spent a lot of time together choosing the best fit for the party, and felt like you’d gotten it right. “I’m a human wizard, by the way - you can probably tell by the hat,” they nod for effect, the brim wobbling comedically.

You smile too – it was sweet seeing Robin so excited about something. Theatrically tenting your fingers to regain the party’s attention, you muster your best Dungeon Master voice and set the scene for your adventurers. As if on cue, wind howls and groans through the loft, adding to the atmosphere. You have to admit, it’s pretty cool.

“Right, as I was saying… The elders have summoned you because some of the villagers have been going missing…” You glance over to Robin, who gives you a discrete thumbs up. Apparently, you’re doing okay.

Kylar has clearly played before – or has some knowledge of the process, at least. They’re the first to suggest asking the villagers for clues – although their chosen method of interrogation is a little… questionable. Sydney’s a natural – something about the strict rules of the game seem to appeal to them, and they’re a very fast learner. And Robin… they’re just so excited to play – a little fun and fantasy was clearly just what they needed.

Gradually, you settle into the swing of things. Robin opens a packet of fruit pastilles and offers them around the table. Sydney seems particularly invested in your vivid descriptions, listening intently as they nibble a sweet. Kylar leans over the table and gently picks out a can of pop – slowly, so as not to disturb your flow. Everyone seems to be getting more comfortable - especially you.

Suddenly a loud metallic thud startles you into silence. The can had slipped from Kylar’s flimsy grasp and had already rolled off the table with a loud thud. Everyone listens, spellbound as the can rolls, rattling over the uneven floor before coming to rest somewhere out of sight with a thunk.

You look at Robin, feeling hairs prickle on the back of your neck, not daring to move a muscle. Robin stares back, eyes wide. That racket was sure to have alerted Bailey, and it was only a matter of time before the caretaker yanked open the hatch and gave your guests a rude insight into what life at the orphanage was truly like.

“S-sorry…” whispered Kylar – but even that felt too loud, earning a hissed shush from Robin. Sydney’s amber eyes flickered from person to person, trying to gauge the severity of the situation. Already, you could hear footsteps. It’s been fun, you think to yourself. Shame it had to end before you even got started.

The loft hatch descends with a creak, flooding a little extra light into the dim loft from the landing. Everyone watches breathlessly – except Robin, who’d covered their face with their hands.

But it isn’t Bailey’s furious face that glares up into the loft – it’s Whitney.

“Found you, slut!” they grin triumphantly, hoisting themselves through the hatch and rising deftly to their feet. They pull it closed with a loud click. Robin isn’t sure if this development is better or worse than they’d expected.

“Whitney…” you level your voice, trying your best to sound pleased to see them. In truth, your heart is still racing from the shock. They were the last person you’d expect to be crashing the party.

“Don’t act surprised,” Whitney revels in your dumbstruck expression as they stride over, reaching over Kylar and helping themselves to a packet of sweets. Kylar shrinks against the table like a defenceless animal. “You begged me to come play your stupid game. Now you owe me, slut.”

While that wasn’t exactly how you remembered the conversation going during Maths, you know it’s not worth arguing. Kylar looks like they want the floorboards to swallow them up, and Sydney shoots you a genuine look of concern - the expected response. But Robin was beginning to look genuinely… hopeful at the prospect of another player. “You want to play?” they ask.

Whitney leans over the set-up, eyeing Robin’s collection of hand-painted miniatures. They chew one end of strawberry cable while the other end dangles limply from their mouth. “Maybe… looks shit though.”

“You might like it,” you offer, jumping on the hint of curiosity in the bully’s voice. Whitney loved a bit of drama, although they’d never admit to it. Thumbing through the stack of leftover character sheets, you carefully select one and pass it to Whitney, who snatches it abruptly.

Their blue eyes narrow, straining in the low light to read the page. You’d picked a bard, theorising that a charismatic character might appeal to their more charming side. It would be nice for the others to see that aspect of Whitney’s personality, too.

“Fuck no, slut,” they scoff, the now crumpled page hitting you directly on the forehead. It was worth a try. “If I’m gonna play, I wanna wreck shit. Pick another,” they hold out a hand, waggling their fingers impatiently. At least they seemed interested.

Robin picks through the stack of papers now, selecting a new character and passing it towards Whitney’s outstretched hand. “Okay, what about an Orc barbarian? You get a big axe, and you fly into a furious rage in combat. Sound good?”

Whitney nibbles their sweet, eyeing the paper and considering Robin’s suggestion. There’s a long pause. “… Fine. But none of that dice shit. I’m improvising.”

It was probably the best you could hope for – it was getting late, and you just wanted to get on with things. Robin sets up another chair, which Whitney drags next to you. Kylar eyes the new addition sullenly, and Whitney stares right back - making a show of squeezing your thigh. You huff out a breath - this is fine.

You’re grateful when Robin attempts to get things back on track once more. “Okay, you’re just in time anyway. We’ve been summoned to the village of…”

“… Coxhollow…” Sydney checks their diligent notes. They blush, suddenly understanding how it sounds.

“… yeah, that’s right. We’re about to enter the goblin lair, right?” Robin looks to you with an encouraging smile.

“Yeah, um…” you clear your throat, sitting up and beginning to describe the goblin lair in grim detail – all dripping stalactites, mossy walls and bone-strewn floor. Even Whitney seems a little impressed by your description, and it leaves you feeling pretty proud.

As you detail the party’s approach, Sydney raises their hand, “I think… I want to make a perception check.”

You smile – it’s exactly what you’d hoped would happen. With a roll of 16, Sydney’s cleric can hear a small group of goblins approaching – which gives the party an advantage.

Robin sits up excitedly. “Okay, team – let’s roll initiative!” The orphan tumbles a brightly coloured dice across the table. Kylar and Sydney follow suit – it’s beginning to feel like a real game now. The party’s first encounter is slow and a little bumpy – it’s challenging managing everybody’s turns, especially with Whitney jabbing you in the arm with a pencil. But by the time the goblins are defeated, you feel it’s gone well – not the most thrilling battle, but a good start.

Kylar’s rogue silently dispatches the next guard – despite their initial protests, they make an excellent halfling rogue. Sure, they’re quiet – big groups had never been Kylar’s idea of fun. But as time passes, they seem to be getting a little more confident. With Kylar’s help, the group disarm several traps that have been laid throughout the tunnels. There are even the beginnings of actual teamwork emerging between the group – well, less so for Whitney, but they’re more engaged than you expected. When it’s time to storm the final chamber and free the hostages, everyone carefully discusses tactics.

“I’m happy to take on a support role,” Sydney offers. They’d done an excellent job so far keeping everyone’s health in top condition, which wasn’t surprising– Sydney cared a lot about others, and was very attentive to the needs of the party. But it was clear they enjoyed casting offensive spells just as much – between them, Syd and Robin had become a dangerous, spellcasting duo whom goblins feared.

“I cast… Big Fucking Axe,” Whitney states with confidence – you can’t tell if they’re serious, but are surprised when they snatch one of Robin’s dice and skim it across the table. It’s a pretty decent roll, so you decide it’s best to allow it - describing how the barbarian cleaves the goblin’s skull in half, with plenty of gory detail.

The final battle is much smoother and cooler than the first and it takes much less time that you’d budgeted for – you were getting good at this. Kylar the Rogue deals the final, stealthy blow to the enemy– a vicious stab wound to the neck. They clearly relish describing how the blood sprays from the foe’s jugular, covering everyone in sticky goblin gore. It might be the most Kylar’s said all night. With the Goblin King defeated, the room falls silent. and everyone leans forward, eyeing you expectantly.

“Um… that’s it,” you smile, shoulders dipping into a shrug. They look surprised.

“That’s it? Feels like we’re just getting started…” Sydney’s yawn belies their words – but it’s clear they would have happily played another hour.

Kylar looks reignited – you notice they’ve sketched their halfling rogue at some point during the session. The character peers out from under a dark hood, licking an ornate dagger and displaying a crazed look that’s not unfamiliar. It’s a very decent drawing.

As the rest of the group helps tidy up, they discus their favourite parts of the session – it leaves you feeling very proud. Whitney scrolls on their phone; when you manage to steal a glance – the words “what is a bard” had been typed into a search engine on their phone screen. You smirk – typical.

Robin packs away the snacks and drinks for next time, stashing them in the cleanest looking box the attic can provide. And there would be a next time – the group had made you promise before agreeing to leave. When your visitors finally depart, you feel a pair of arms wrap you from behind – the wide brim of a wizard hat bumping the back of your head. “Thank you,” Robin says sincerely, giving you another squeeze for good measure. “I had fun. You’re the best.”

#dol fanfic #degrees of lewdity #dol fluff #degrees of lewdity fluff #whitney the bully #kylar the loner #sydney the faithful #dol dnd au #dol

23 notes · View notes

liloinkoink · 2 years

Text

Lamplight AU

What is Lamplight? Short answer, a DnD/Fantasy Third/Last Life Renchanting AU!

Long answer, here’s 20 Questions, the ficlet meant to introduce the concept.

Medium answer, Ren is a powerful god stuck in the form of living fire. Martyn is his sole follower. Martyn and Ren help free one another from imprisonment by the Watchers and are now traveling the world on a two-man adventure of fond companionship and occasional arson.

This AU has been written as I feel like it with absolutely no regard for chronology. If you have any questions about it feel free to ask! I also have a tag for it, “lamplight au,” which is where any writing, asks, or art go.

I’ll update this post with writing and art as it happens. Writing is organized chronologically, art is organized by artist and as it’s posted.

This AU was planned with the help of @/unexpectedly-haunted, whose designs for Martyn and Ren are linked at the start of the art section!

You can also find an archive of Lamplight on my writing blog, @driflew, under the same tag.

[AU itself is platonic, but ship content gets made for it]

And, for some other fun notes...

The (unofficial) Lamplight fan Discord Server can be found here!!

Martyn replied to my post saying he knows what Lamplight is, which is a wild thing to be able to say.

[Please do not spam the chats or the askboxes of Martyn, Ren, or anyone else with talk of this fic! Don’t need to annoy anyone with it, thank you!]

[Now that it's confirmed Martyn does know what Lamplight is, here are my thoughts on reading it on stream (he can can if he wants!)]

Lamplight writing

(for any works posted on both ao3 and tumblr where there are differences in content, consider ao3 the ‘correct,’ ‘updated,’ or ‘canon’ version. The AO3 versions are better, edited for quality, pacing, and often with extra bits not found in the tumblr versions)

The AO3 series with all works can be found here.

[If you enjoy Lamplight, I have a kofi? Please don’t feel the need send me anything excessive! The option to tip simply exists if you enjoy the series and are feeling generous.]

Canon

Torchlight Arc

Torchlight

[Torchlight short fic: Ren POV] [this scene is also on Ao3, in Moonlight ch2]

Heliography (multi-chapter, complete)

[tumblr preview scene, incl in Heliography ch1]

Lamplight Arc

Strange Traveler (ao3) (tumblr)

From Here to There (incl 20Q and other scenes)

Incident at the Sleeping Hound (ao3) (tumblr)

Winter's Herald (ao3) (tumblr)

Moonlight Arc

Moonlight (multi-chapter, in-progress)

(ch one is also on tumblr, but significant edits were made when it was moved to ao3. i’m leaving the first version here unchanged, just for fun, but be aware it’s different)

Non-Canon

worship the ashes (ship, noncanonical)

featherlight (Treebark Week D2: Light/Dark. ambiguous on both the ship status and the canonical status… anime filler arc status lmao)

somniphobia (ship, noncanonical) (og version is also on tumblr, a fic from taking treebark Lamplight requests: Ren doesn't sleep)

Heat Haze (Treebark Week D4: Warmth/Breeze) (ship, noncanonical)

the only place i don't feel cold (Treebark Week D3/4: Build/Burn, Infernal/Divine) (ship, noncanonical) (og version is also on tumblr, a fic from taking treebark Lamplight requests: God of...)

Leaflight Series (Lamplight Roleswap) [ask about the Leaflight concept]

Cover Me in Roses

Ficlet of a different Lamplight offshoot

Other Writers

Help with plotting the AU has come from my friend Haunted, whose contributions to design, plot, and general function as a rubber duck have been greatly appreciated

Series

Desert Duo subplot series by @/cosmicretribution (Haunted's designs)

crystalline

Boat Boys subplot series by @/boatboysrowout

i said fuck it long ago

Canon-divergent horror series by @/sixteenth-days

so no head?

Oneshots (non canon)

the heart of the pyre by Zeph

striking steel by Apollo

guiding light by Apollo

Lamplight Art

if you want to draw Lamplight art, go ahead! i would love to see it! @ me and/or Haunted and i’ll put it here! if i don’t see it, send me a message! and be sure to check out these artists’ work and show them some love!

Haunted’s Lamplight Official™ Martyn design

Haunted’s Lamplight Official™ Ren design (ft. Martyn)

Haunted's Lamplight animatic, FIRE--this is an animatic for the latter half of the fic Torchlight and is really cool!

I hit the fucking link limit so the rest of the art can be found HERE

#lamplight au #lew library #top hits

309 notes · View notes

luce-speaks · 1 month

Text

the car scene

written for @fe-aspec-week 2024! this is set in echoes dnd au (created by me and @good-beanswrites), in which the plot of Echoes is the plot of the group’s d&d game. scenes in italics take place in-game.

—

Lukas sighs. “Honestly, Python? I'm not sure if I love her or not. Since being parted from her, I feel no particular longing to see her again.”

(He stops briefly, glancing around the table, trying to gauge if he’s doing okay. It doesn’t seem right to spend too much session time on his character’s personal issues, but everyone seems content enough. He decides to continue.)

“I sometimes wonder if a vital part of me is broken. I look at Clive and Mathilda and see... Well, you used the word "fire". But whatever it is that they have, I seem to lack it.”

Python punches him on the shoulder. “Aw, don't you worry. The ‘one true love’ thing isn't for everyone. Certainly not for me. And I dare anyone to tell me that I’m broken.”

Lukas blinks. “So you think such a lack of feelings is… normal?”

This time, when Python leans in, he throws his arm around him, for a sort of half-hug that Lukas politely tolerates. “Perfectly.”

—

The session ends soon after, with cheerful goodbyes exchanged as they all filter out of Mila’s fancy apartment. Lukas joins the other two in Forsyth’s beater of a car, and they begin the thirty-minute trip back to their apartment complex.

It’s silent in the car for a few minutes, interrupted only by the staticky hum of the radio that refuses to turn all the way off and the ever-concerning rumble of the engine. And then—

“Y’know,” Python says abruptly, “it’s pretty cool that you made your character aro.”

Forsyth nods. “It is! You never see that in fantasy stories. It’s pretty sad.”

“…What?”

The car goes dead quiet again. The rumbling engine sounds louder than ever.

“Luke…”

“That was on purpose, right?” Forsyth says, craning around to peer at Lukas in the backseat.

Python elbows him. “Eyes on the road, Fors.”

“Yeah, but he—”

Lukas sighs. “Can one of you explain what you’re talking about?”

Now it’s Python’s turn to lean across the center console (and Lukas’s turn to wonder how these two haven’t gotten themselves into a car accident yet.) “So, that stuff you were saying in the last scene. How he wasn’t in love with that backstory character, and maybe not with anyone else, either? And he feels like he’s broken because of it?”

He nods, unsure where this is going. “I… thought it made sense for the character.”

“It does,” Forsyth says. “And it also sounds a lot like he might be aromantic.”

“Aro, for short,” Python adds. “It means you’re not interested in anyone like that—romantically, I mean. Like me.”

“You’re… not?” Lukas frowns. “But I thought—at the game cafe—”

“Hey, aromantic and asexual are two different things. Which I only happen to be one of.” Python grins. “So, y’know, if you ever—”

“PYTHON!” Forsyth turns away from the wheel again, this time grabbing his friend by the shoulder. “Can you at least save it until we’re out of the car?”

“Hey, eyes on the road!”

“I know! If you hadn’t started—“

Lukas tunes out the arguing in the front seat, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to keep track of what they’re talking about. He feels a bit guilty for (accidentally) tricking his new friends into thinking he made his character like this on purpose. For making something that spoke to them, made them feel seen, only to have to explain that it was all happenstance. It feels like a betrayal of some sort, even if he didn’t intend it.

But, then again, there’s something else bothering him. Memories resurfacing, of his parents asking him when he’ll get married, of school dances and college parties, of a thousand little moments that each left a bad taste in his mouth. He always figured it would change when he got older, or when he got away from his parents—but he’s done both, hasn’t he? He’s almost thirty, and he’s living alone, and he’s never once wished for someone else to share that bed with him. He’s never thought too hard about it, but…

“Python,” he says nervously. “How exactly do you know you’re aro?”

“Uh—”

“The general ‘you’, I mean, not you specifically,” he adds quickly. “Just… how do you figure it out? How do you know you’re not just…” He trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

Python glances at Forsyth. Forsyth, for once, stays focused on the road, where he’s trying to merge into the left lane of the highway. Python turns back to Lukas.

“Uh,” he says again. “Usually, I think, you just get tired of waiting. S’what I did. Got bored of waiting for something to change and decided to go my own way. There’s not really a process to it. You just… make up your mind.”

“And it’s okay if you change it later!” Forsyth adds. “Using a label isn’t something you have to commit to forever. If it stops being helpful to you, you stop using it.”

“Oh.” They make it sound so simple, he thinks. “I… I need some time to think about all this. It… makes sense, I just…”

“Hey, there’s no rush,” Python says.

Forsyth nods. “Take your time. We’ll be here if you need anything.”

“And for what it’s worth—” Python turns toward the backseat again, looking Lukas directly in the eye. “You’re not broken, Luke. No matter what anyone told you. Okay?”

Lukas nods, still lost for words, before choking out a “Thank you.” The path ahead of him is treacherous, but in this moment—in the back of Forsyth’s shitty car, surrounded by people who support him, wrapped in the hum of the engine—he feels like he can take it all.

(When he officially comes out at another D&D session a few weeks later, he receives a hearty round of hugs and congratulations, none more enthusiastic than Python and Forsyth’s. It’s the happiest he’s felt in a long, long time.)

#luce writes #echoes dnd au #fe aspec week #day 1: coming out #lukas #python #forsyth #fire emblem echoes #fe lukas #fe python #fe forsyth

19 notes · View notes

cryptidcorners · 3 months

Note

on my knees begging for more of prince! Danforth, ;0; gnawing on the iron bars of my enclosure for part 2

Horse Riding — Prince!Derek Danforth x GN!Reader [ Part 2/? ]

Pt. I .

Description: It's been about a week since you last seen Prince Danforth, your childhood sweetheart, spill dark secrets about his House. As if you weren't worried enough, Derek reveals some life changing information — the possibility of a conspiracy between Kingdoms.

# Request: "on my knees begging for more of prince! Danforth, ;0; gnawing on the iron bars of my enclosure for part 2"

# A.N: more prince Danforth!!!!!! I'm absolutely amazed by the amount of love my writing got! thank you! also I may be posting this on AO3 ! So stay tuned :3c

Media: The Beekeeper [ AU ]

Character: Derek Danforth [ AU ]

Tags: DND/Fantasy Inspired AU, Royalty, PLOT, Lore Dumping, Friends to ? ? ?, Romantic Implications, Horse Riding, Nature Walk, Fluff, Slowburn, Childhood Friends, Character Reveals, Flirting, Catching Up, Sweet Talk + Reader is !GN.

Warnings: Mentions of War/Isolation, Conspiracy, Childhood Trauma/Abuse, Assassination, Mentions of Substance Abuse

TOS. Derek Dandorth Master List {TBW}.

It had been a fortnight since you had seen Prince Danforth. You had enjoyed your time with him more than anything, that kiss was still lingering in your mind and lightly kissed your skin with warmth. Yet, the haunting discovery that he had revealed beneath the isle of paintings detailing his ancestors had left your bones rushing cold.

You couldn't daydream about his lips against your skin, or fingers intertwining together underneath a veil of moonlight, there was a possibility of him being mistreated — how he confessed he felt like a humming bird tethered in a gold cage with disloyal eyes around every corner — and your mind couldn't abandon the thought. It was almost feverish; it hurt to even scavenge a nightmare that raw, but you couldn't betray him that way.

"I promise, I'll tell you everything." He said, his forehead gently brushing against your own, he was so close you could remember his breath soothing your jaw, your lips. There was something so tragically intimate a lot that moment. How Derek had so many secrets and this was one of those rare, naked occasions where he was being faithful to himself. Where he had trusted you. Alas, he bit back everything. Derek was not only afraid for himself, but for you, and you only.

He swore under his breath with that twinkling smile that could soothe even the deadliest of vipers. Then, he had pulled away and part of you still craved that closeness, "I love you too much to let you get hurt because of my ignorance. Time will tell, just be patient." Derek's obvious attempts to shy you away from your worries didn't work.

You were still driving yourself mad thinking about him. Thinking about those secrets. Thinking about your kingdom. So many people you cared so deeply for could possibly be in danger.

"Pardon me, Noble Talis?" your secretary tip toed across the overflow of documents and books scattered across your floors. He stiffened, clearing his throat and dove his gaze into his papers. "The Danforth House has arrived for your date? By the Weeping Woods."

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten." You answered as your eyes searched through what used to be your bedroom. Your treasury, statues and silk coated mattress were blooming with rogue papers. You had forgotten you had been busy these last few days researching as much as you could. With no leads, it went as frustrating as you could expect. "I'll be down in a moment," you stumbled through the floors. It was hard not to slip. "I just need to find my trousers,"

Maybe your date with Derek could give you some answers to cool whatever firey whim was dancing in your head. The Weeping Woods was apart of your land and you knew it better than anyone. It was secure, private and lush. Derek could tell you everything he needed to and if there were spies looming in Tallis, well, you had no present conclusion on what to do next, but you were sure if you got your answers everything would be easy to map.

You prayed he wasn't hurt in any way. It'd just kill you to see him in pain, even if you hadn't seen him in a long time, you still loved him — Derek was your best friend. Hopefully you would be proven wrong. Of course he wouldn't be injured. Why would Queen Danforth sent her ill son to Tallis — one of their greatest patrons? Yes, yes. He's probably safe and sound, fresh as a daisy.

You had rushed down the steps, formally greeting your loyal workers until you had reached the grand, pearly doors and tugged your best smile together. Once opened, the gentle morning light had calmed your nerves well enough to face the royal carriages mounted below. Your eyes had searched and searched, but no Derek.

You began walking down, only remembering a few faces. Micky Barnett, or Sir. Barnett was Prince Danforth's second, his loyal secretary. So, you inhaled sharply. "Greetings," you bowed your head lightly, "um, where is Prince Danforth? I figured he'd be here . . . waiting for me." Disappointment clinged to your tone. Did he not want to see you personally? Or was something wrong?

Oh Heavens, you were overthinking again.

Micky adjusted his collar and then took out his pocket watch. Probably to distract his eyes, he felt slightly intimidated by your presence. He sucked his teeth, "Went to the stables a few minutes ago. Said he was waiting for you,"

"Ah, thank you, Sir. Barnett." Relief washed over your body language and your shoulders fell and you couldn't help but smile softly. As excitement began to rile, you bowed your head a second time and fixed your wear. Derek had flashed in your mind and it was already naming you so flimsy. How did he do that?

"No problem, Noble Tallis." He smiled lightly.

You didn't know Micky very well. But you knew that he and Derek were closer than anything and that they were inseparable, even when they were children. You had a few vague memories of running across the palace but they were thin in your mind. Silence began to trail and he was swallowing his breath, as if secretly begging you to leave.

You didn't want to talk to him further anyway and you just wanted to see the Prince once again. You were eager, desperate even.

How was he? Was his skin and hair as fair as you last saw it? Was his smile still great enough to make you fuzzy? Was he alright?

You couldn't keep boiling yourself with these questions because you were nearing the stables and you had to keep your sight pierced. Though, Derek wouldn't be much of a challenge to find since he was always making himself stand out like a sore thumb with blinding jewelery and rich gowns.

Your boots seeped into the mud and you strolled through the flattened yard. There was no sign of him. Though, you had noticed a horse was missing from her post. Before you could even think, the stomping of hooves began to present itself closer and closer within range. You spun around to see a tall, white coated mare flicking her tail with a sparkly silhouette perched on her sattle.

"Beautiful weather, were having?" Derek smiled. His grip was tight on the reigns, and his cheeks reddened apologetically. "Sorry I wasn't there to greet you. I was far too educated, I mean, horses! With you!"

"Well, hello to you too." You replied, "And it's no problem, I was taking a bit long to get downstairs anyway."

"Oh, how come? Royal duties?" Derek tilted his head.

Or a mountain of rubbish research flooding your room. "Yes, but it was nothing important. Nothing at all,"

He chuckled and slowly trailed behind you. You could hear his horse growing tempered at the lack that of speed, which wasn't anything out of the ordinary. The mare he has selected was Blizzard, an impatient, thrill chasing creature who was always overwhelming to handle. Though, Derek was enduring her quite fine — how curious.

"Well, what are you waiting for? You wanna ride or what?" He challenged, his face beaming with excitement.

You had decided to your own horse, Quail, a thundering mare with a golden flease and dune-like eyes. Derek may have gotten the quickest horse, but you had the wittiest. You knew this forest and you were sure to throw him of course — and lead him far away from the palace, where you could finally talk.

You both had arrowed through the marshland, crushing bushes, twigs, leaping across boulders and streams. The adrenaline was running hit and sweat was pearling on your skin, which was already halting your breaths. Derek was nearing the front, "You'll need to be a lot faster if you want get the best of me." he cackled.

"It's on, pretty boy." You teased.

"Oh, resorting to pet names, are we?" The Prince was shining with competitiveness, his thirst for victory was nothing but blazing. He howled loudly before urging Blizzard to increase her speed. You could taste flakes of dirt hitting your face as he descended into the woodland, so you steered and rode downward. You were above Derek now, galloping quick enough to jump down and stumble back into the lead.

"What? Where did you—" he rasped. "Oh, cheater!"

"Not a cheater. Just smart!" you cooed.

Laughter shot through the forest like gunfire. You felt like a kid again and for once, you weren't thinking of all the bad in the world. Just Derek Danforth. Your faces met for a few seconds and you swore he was feeling the same thing.

There was a brook by the edge of the woodland and you were both determined to hoof it to your now titled finish line. It was neck and neck, but Quail bucked herself toward as quick as the breeze itself and came to a sharp halt at the rim of the tiny shore. Derek scrambled a few seconds after, huffing.

"It feels nice to beat you again." You turned to see a messy Prince catching breath above a seemingly indifferent steed, "Oh, you look rough."

"It's been a while." Derek insisted, running his hands through his blond locks. He smoothened his face, "Plus, I was just going easy . . ."

"Someone's a little sour." You snickered, basking in the crown of glory.

"Prince Danforth is never sour." Derek protested. His tone was still soft however and he narrowed his gaze lightly across the greenery. "It's fantastic here. We don't have wild life in our House, it's mostly just stone."

You slipped off your saddle and tied Quail to an oal tree, which acted as your post. "Well, would you like to explore? We can walk around, maybe catch up?"

Derek glared into the apex. Then licked his bottom lip and nodded, face softening. "I'd love to." You could get lost in him for days, weeks even.

The trees soared into the deep, blue skies and families of wildflower webbed across the thrush landscape. Sunlight was flickering through the waving tree branches and the scent of the sweet streams coarsing through the grass land and cattails was blooming in the air.

You both began walking down the trail, Derek's hands were binded behind his back. He drank up the scenery, tone no longer holding a seductive ring, but rather something comforting and domestic. "It's been so long since I've been in Tallis. I missed it so much. Well, I missed you more."

Your face warmed, but you couldn't fall for his charm right now. You had to ask, "Derek, about the royal ball—"

"Before you continue." He interrupted, "I have something to show you."

You shut your mouth and watched him dig his gloves into his pocket, taking out a thin slip of paper carefully. It was an envelope with a yellow print of a bee, but it looked like it had already been opened.

"Derek, what is that?"

"Read for yourself." He extended his hand and you took the page, gripping it tightly. The edges were spoiled with age but the handwriting was careful and nearly perfect. Your eyes ran across the text, you read outloud:

*May it please Your Majesty, it has come to my attention in the body of Talis that the public is stirring suspicion. Your patrons have been growing jaded — whispering about abandoning your allyship in return for relations with Queen Talis, along with her court — and our scouts have been following as best we can to gather as much as possible.*

*The previous shipments mentioned in your previous encounter with Adam Clay will be returning shortly. Due to the seas opening for the other Houses our services may be sluggish.*

*I pray our meeting under the blue moon is still in session. We've decided to take heavier precautions this time around, and our smiths have created some keys as a way to monitor members. A lot of spies have been discovered this fortnight.*

*— Best regards, General*

"General?" You echoed, "What kind of name is that?"

Derek explained, "That's what I said! Look, it mentions an Adam Clay, my mother has been meeting him. It looks like she's involved with something. Just don't know what," he continued. "I did some research in my study. The symbol belongs to a Clan of bounty hunters, Beekeepers, they've been around for centuries now."

This was so much to take in. "What would your mother need assassains for? She has her royal guard. You don't think she's . . . planning to use them on anyone, are you?"

Derek was stunned and there was doubt shading in his dark eyes. His response was atypical, "I don't know, Tallis. I never expected this from her and it's making me worried. I think my subjects are spying on me, now."

He took your hands and you traced your thumb against his fingers softly. Derek exhaled, "I trust you with this information. Your library is more bigger than mine and by now, I think my mother is ordering to destroy any books relating to it."

You drew him close. "Derek, this is madness. We need to tell the other Houses about this and—"

"No! No, you can't. If you do, my mother will probably send those hunters. She won't hesitate to kill people!" Derek snapped and his nails dug into your arms. "Promise me Tallis, swear to me that you won't tell anyone. I'm begging you." He shook your wrists, "Please?" his voice lowered.

"I promise." You nodded gently. "I won't tell a soul." Derek dropped his head and his gaze was wrinkling with tears. He was rambling, "Thank you. I knew I could trust you,"

Then, he straightened himself and hummed softly. "I apologize if I got too intense, it's just been so much to hold in. It gets so overwhelming,"

You pulled him into a light embrace. If there was the possibility of war brewing, it could result in the tranquil society the Houses built to collapse into ruin. You could see blaze cutting the air, the rolls of remains and the charred bits of what used to be utopia.

You melted into his arms to fend off the nasty wolves clawing in your mindscape, holding him tightly. You ran your fingertips across his shoulders, seeking great comfort in touching the wear he was clad in. Derek breathed into your neck and you shivered, "I hope this didn't muck up our date."

"Not at all." You whispered, "It actually put my mind to rest." and you opened the gap between yourselves once again. You grew flustered, "And it was fun racing you and all."

"You're acting as if it's all over." Derek said softly. "Our date is supposed to last all night isn't it, hm?" He took your hand. "Let's not let it go to waste."

— — —

14 days ago . . .

His fingertips graced the edges of the envelope, eyes hawked on the golden print with a perplexed gaze. Derek was resting on the foot of his bed, palm running across the darkened monarch's pelt. He was locked within his chambers, isolated from outside theory. He didn't know why he was so fixed on the design of a silenced envelope. For some reason he couldn't open it. It felt wrong. Like some outside force was intertwined with his brain — compelling him, tempting him to shove it back into the enclosure of his cabinet — yet, he finally sucked in his nerves and tore up the flap.

Now this was no time to think about manners. He acted as if he had lost the lion shares, feeding on scraps as his eyes ran across the page. The letters were in careful writing, yet the page was stained with age.

*General*? Who leaves their name as *General*? An alias, perhaps? He then noticed the engraving was stamped onto the page. The same bee.

His hands pryed into the envelope and dragged out a curious, long blue key. The same symbol on the blue stem.

Why was his mother involved with all of this?

Derek stuffed the key into his pocket, along with the envelope. This symbol felt familiar.

He quickly exited his bedroom, racing down the hallway and warmly greeting a few cleaners sweeping the quartz floors. Derek rarely went into the library. He already had a shelf full of heavy reads he never escaped to, the only people he figured would go inside would be Wallace or his Queenship herself.

They were both busy tonight and if anyone was inside he'd pester them away; he was Prince after all, even if his power worked to an extent.

The trip through the labyrinth of contents was overwhelming at best. He had nothing but candlelight flickering in the darkness and even with the vague light he knew there wasn't anything about bees.

Maybe he was working in the wrong sections. The note mentioned something about scouts, shipments and the blue moon — nearly a few twilights a way.

War.

Derek quickly raced through the isles with firefly light and hushed breaths, eyes flickering through large titles overhead until he found his designed genre. His hands traced through the engraved books, until he found it. The bee symbol.

Not just one book. Nearly a dozen. How far did this history go? Whatever, he took all of them; scattering the books all across the table. He took the nearest he could see through his bubble of fire and flipped as fast as a hummingbird. Bounty hunters, assassins, advanced weaponry. They were cunning as foxes, dripped in light iron and skill.

"Beekeepers," He whispered. "Why would you talk to my mother?"

"You shouldn't be here." A voice commanded. Derek felt his hair stand up, but he tightened his fist and gazed behind his shoulder with nervous eyes.

Wallace Westwyld had seemingly manifested from the darkness, only now arriving into the bubble of flickering candlelight. "What are you doing, Master Danforth?"

"Catching up on reading." He swallowed. "Just needed something to help me sleep."

"I never took you for the historical type," Wallace's gaze didn't stir. "Regardless, you should be returning to your room. It's late,"

He wondered what Wallace was doing out so late himself. But, he couldn't harness anymore suspicion. He stood up, cleaning the sand from his eyes. "Yes, you're right. I should. Goodbye, sir."

MWallace's gaze fell to the books scattered across the tabletop, and his face stretched out in shock. He muttered, "Oh, child. What have you gotten yourself into?"

#👑 derek danforth #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x reader #writers on tumblr #josh hutcherson #writing #dnd #fantasy #josh hutcherson x reader #💌 request!#love this silly guy sm #au #the beekeeper #mike schmidt #josh futturman #derek danforth

14 notes · View notes