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yanagiin · 3 years

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𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬

dreamwastaken x reader

Dream and Y/n have been dating for almost 1 year and moved in together at their 7 months mark. But chat didn’t need to know that. Neither did your friends. Y/n and Dream wanted to keep their lives private, until now.

“Oi Clay, wanna tell people we’re dating?”

“Yeah sure, let’s make it fun tho” Dream said with a devilish grin. “When the other is streaming, you may drop any hints. If they find out in my stream you win, vice versa. Winner gets anything from the loser.” He is now sticking one finger in the air and chest out.

“Deal!” They shake hands, after he didn’t let go. He pulls her into him and places a kiss on her lips. Giggles slipping thru her lips.

“Good luck, I’m going to stream first.” He leaves after pressing another kiss to her lips and walks to his recording room.

“Ok- WAIT YOU DIDNT DO A FACE REVEAL ITS NOT FAIR!” Y/n is now pouting but laughs at her boyfriend’s silly antics. Let the games begin.

DREAM’S STREAM

Dream was streaming some timed speed runs while george, sap, and bad. As Dream was looking for the fortress, he got a donation notification from “dream’s sugar baby” with $100. He was too focused on killing blazes and the tts reads the message.

“Come to bed bb” He freezes. The boys were laughing at the donation while Dream was to busy calming down the red creeping up his face. At the moment, he didn’t hear someone join the call.

“Hey guys!”

“Y/N!! Guess what happen!”

“Dream is a sugar daddy!”

“George she was supposed to gues-”

“Oh that donation was me-”

“WHAT” They cut the girl off as the call goes silent.

“Dream’s your sugar daddy???” This brought said boy back to reality.

“AHAHAHA you guys are so gullible, Dream spent this much money on me before, i just want to repay him.” She says in a genuine voice, but her evil smirk negates what she said.

“Uhm guys thanks for watching! I have to go bye!” Dream ended his stream faster than a bullet. He leaves the call and rushes to his girlfriend’s recording room. Luckily she left the call before the others could her her door slam open with a very red Clay. “Wha-wh” She laughs and walks up to him placing a kiss on his cheeks.

“That’s a point for me” patting his chest and walking past to get started on dinner.

Y/N - 1 DREAM-0

NEXT DAY - Y/N’S STREAM

Y/n is a builder on the dream smp and works along with sam, awesamdude. They were currently working on the Tommyinnit Hotel. When she was adding the final touches to the outside of the hotel. A donation pops up.

“Calliewasfound donated $5, Are you and dream a thing or is it just a bit?” Read the tts.

“Callie thank you for the $5, it’s just a bit” She went back to building, going to the top of the scaffolding. A few seconds after a new dono was read.

“Y/N’s Sugar Daddy donated $500, just a bit, that’s not what it sounded like last night” y/n choked on air, accidentally falling off the scaffolding.

“Y/N?!?” Sam exclaimed as he came down to place his friend’s items in a chest.

“D-dream thank you for the dono, uhm” By now her chat was teasing her seeing how her face cam caught her expressions. Only she can hear Clay’s loud laugh boom through the house.

“Y/n are you okay? What happened?” Sam voiced with concern.

“Yeah just- this dono threw me off”

“Oh ok, well your stuff in this chest”

“Yeah thanks Sam” For the rest of the stream she couldn’t focus. Sure what he did got her as bad as she got him but she’s still not used to his flirty persona. When she ended the stream she ran to their shared bedroom and jumped into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

Y/N-1 DREAM-1

Y/N NEXT STREAM (because Dream doesn’t stream :)

It was a chill stream today, she planned to build a house for herself on the smp. After settling for building a house and a few villager homes far away from the smp to avoid any griefing. She started her build and waited for the questions to roll in. A few minutes into the stream, she heard her bathroom door in her recording room open. Out of frame, Clay walks out with just a towel around his waist and hair wet from his shower.

“What are you do-” She was cut off by a pair of green boxers being thrown over her face. Followed by the sound of feet running out the door, closing with a click. She quickly removes the boxers, showing her red face. The only thing heard from the stream is her background music.

“sappymamas donated $5, who was that?”

‘shit’ “That was— my roommate! Yup just my roommate” Y/n says with an awkward smile. Then her door opens again.

“Just a roommate huh?”

“C-cla” before she can finish a hand out of frame grabs her jaw and chin pulling her into a passionate kiss. His shirtless top showing off his muscles. Chat was going crazy. Not only did they find out that the young streamer was taken, they believe that her boyfriend was the owner of the Dream smp.

“mushroomgeorge donated $10, Is that Dream?!” She decided to turn off her mic and camera as Clay watches in amusement. Quickly she apologizes to her chat saying she’ll finish building offline and ends the stream early. Oh this will be a pain to explain.

Y/N-1 DREAM-2

It’s all gone. A few weeks later after finishing her village, she comes back to see it all burnt to the ground and tommy holding a bucket of lava. Being on call with the dream team, wanting to show them her new build. George and Nick were angry. She told the two that she built each of them a house if they wanted to stay over. Both boys whip out their diamond sword and crossbow. Dream was quiet. He looked at his girlfriend’s stream to see that she is almost in tears. He remembered how excited she was to show him their new house in her village, a dog named after hers and a cat named after patches.

“Tommy.”

“Hey Big D!”

“What are you doing.” Dream whipped out his enchanted axe

“I saw this ugly village and wanted to burn it do- WHAT THE FUUUCKKKK!!”

Tommyinnit was slain by Dream with [Y/N PROTECTION SERVICES]

“YEAHHH LETS GOOOOOO”

“POGGGGG”

George and Sap cheer.

“If you get near me or my girlfriend again Tommy. You will lose your last life. I promise you that.” Dream says walking away

“WAIT WHAT??” The people on the call break out of character as they find out that their suspicions of the two were true. Y/n’s character comes into view as he sees her crouching near a burnt down house of what he assumed to be their house. He slowly walks up to her and drops her favorite flower in front of her named “my heart”.

“Let’s get started shall we?” She nods in game and irl and they head off together to start gathering materials. With the help of sap and george who are still trying to get an answer from the couple who continues to ignore them.

“Wait dream, it was you who threw their boxers to her face?” Sap wheezes as he brings back what happened in the stream a few weeks ago.

They managed to finish a few hours later. Grabbing an item frame, Y/n places it above her bed with the flower she received from Dream. Out of nowhere, Clay comes in and places a bed right next to hers.

“Hold on.” She quickly runs out and a few minutes comes back with a poppy in hand. “Here.” She drops the flower in front of him and he basically melts at the name.

“I love you too Y/n”

“Hehe” now it’s her turn to melt seeing him put a frame and the flower up. The couple completely forgetting about the other two in the call.

The bet was all forgotten about as they slept through the night next to each other.

BONUS

“Clayyyyy,Tommy’s trying to take our flowers.” Y/n pouted as she watched Tommy’s stream, heading towards her village.

“Don’t worry. I got this.” He places a kiss on her forehead after typing something quickly on his phone.

“Alright chat, the plan is to steal the flowers and force them to trade it with the discs.”

Sapnap joined the game

Georgenotfound joined the game

Dream joined the game

“What you doing tommy?”

Tommyinnit was shot by GeorgeNotFound with [PROTECT Y/N]

Georgenotfound left the game

“WHAT GEORGE THAT WASNT THE PLAN” Dream wheezes out.

“I’m tired, and colorblind”

Dream left the game

Walking out of his recording room into their bedroom to see his lover sprawled on the bed facing up. He grabs her ankles and pulls her to the edge of the bed. Hovering over her small frame.

“Just to let you know, I won the bet.”

“Oh yeah? What do you want big boy?”

“You already know…” his voice trails off as they both lean in to meet in the middle.

oneshots navigation

#dream x reader #spotify #georgenotfound x reader

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vintage-marina · 3 years

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A woman out of time ( James Norrington x F!reader) Chapter 1

Marvel crossover pirates of the caribbean

TW: blood, gore, aliens, violence and durther in the story depressing thoughts and suicidal thoughts

A few weeks ago i had the idea to write a reader fic with a crossover of marvel and pirates of the carabbean, yep the most random idea that i had

summary: After y/n got a call that they can bring the half of the population back, she takes the chance and goes to the compound, but when she wants to go back to New York 2013 she finds herself on the middle of a ship. I think i’m gonna ship her with James Norrington tho.

btw you can also read it on wattpad, my name is mischief-moony

word count: 1973 words

Wakanda 2018

Before everything went down

You heard footsteps outside your house that signaled that a few people were nearby, you threw your book on the floor and stepped outside and when you did you saw Bucky. King T'Challa, Okoye, and a few soldiers were walking to your cabins. You saw that one of the soldiers were holding a suitcase and dread filled you up, something is happening. Bucky and you were walking to them in a silence that neither of you wanted to break and you saw that in the suit laid his arm.

''Where is the fight?'' mumbeled Bucky after he glanced at his vibranium arm, he didn't look happy to use it again. In fact he probably thought about the time when he did not had a choice, but to use it. You glanced down, you wern't scared to fight, if you have to then you have to. But not knowing who to fight was frightening to you.

You and Bucky got taken to the weaponry room, you glanced into the mirror and moved your (right/left) arm, this arm felt new. Not a bad new, but a good new, a chance at staring a new life and maybe now you will never get it. You grimaced and didn't want to think about it anymore, ''Buck, do you know what's happening?'' ''No, but it has something to do with Steve. It always has.'' ''Fair enough,'' the both of you chuckled for a few seconds and after that you composed yourself, your expression serious. You took a taser, two handpistols and a few knifes and buckeld it on your belt, somehow it felt it wasn't enough and you took a bomb. The medpack on your back did not felt heavy and you saw that Bucky took a M249 SAW. ''And you think that firearm will be enough? You know, it is pretty serious if Wakanda need the help of two oldies'' you pointed to him with a knife, he grumbled but to your happiness he took a handpistol. After this Okoye walked to the both of you and explained what was happening.

Meeting your best pals Steve, Natasha and ofcourse your other colleagues

Bucky and you went outside and you saw that Steve, Natasha, Sam, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and Bruce? Is he not missing? were walking out of the quinjet, King T'Challa was walking with them and lead them to you two. You heard T'Challa asking how big the assault is, Bruce answered that they shoud expect a big one and Natasha asked how big their army is. ''You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje and..'' ''And a semi-stable 100-year old man'' ''And a mentally unstable 100-year old woman'' Bucky and you flashed a smile towards them and you flew into Natasha her arms while Bucky hugged Steve. Afterwards you gave a bone crushing hug to Steve and you whispered that you missed him.

During the battle

Everyone stood behind the border that protected Wakanda and you saw that aliens were running toward you, they looked like a mix between a dog and a rat and you didn't expect this shit, yes you were scared at this point. Next to you stood Bucky, Steve and Natasha, "What the hell" mumbeled Bucky and if you weren't in a life threathing situation, you would have laughed but now, now not. Some of these aliens were breaking through the border but were killing themselves, but some of them were making it through, the Wakandan army were making shields with their clothing and were shooting lasers out of their vibranium spears. Bucky, you and Natasha were shooting while Sam and Rhodey were in the sky. Bruce was in the Hulkbuster and stood behind you and the army. Rhodey flew to the border and you saw that a few bombs were dropping that created a massive chain reaction, you could hear the screams of the aliens that were dying but you could see that the dogs behind the border were going to Vision and were he was laying there was no border, shit he is gonna be in danger. But Bruce beat you to it, before you could say anthing.

''Cap if these things circle the perimeter and get in behind us, there's nothing between them and Vision'' ''Then we better keep 'em in front of us.'' ''How do we do that?'' asked Okoye to T'Challa and you saw that the was thinking. ''We open the barrier. On my signal, open North-West Section Seventeen'' he shouted somthing in Xhosa, you saw that Steve was activating his shield and that T'Challa's army were dropping their shields. You were moving your shoulders and stood in position, ready to kill a bunch of aliens. This was unlike what you saw in the war or what you did in the war but you knew that you should give your everything. The border that protected you was dissolving and you heard T'Challa shouting: ''Wakanda forever!''

You were running and so did everyone else, your heartrate went up and you took the blades out of your belt, Steve and T'Challa ran ahead but you and Bucky ran with the army. The first few aliens were running to you and you threw your knife in their eye and slid on the ground while you were gliding on the grass, you plunged your knife in another one's belly and cutted him open. It screamed and before you knew it it was dead, but the other alien was not. You took your knife out of the carcas and threw it in the head of the other alien. You plucked your two blades out of it's head and it's eye and hastily you stood up and scanned your surroundings.

But you didn't had much time, three other aliens were attacking your back that send you flying to the ground, you let out a yelp. Their claws were dangerously close to your face and something snapped in your head. Your mind went on autopilot and you teared an arm off and you gave it a kick to it's belly. You drew your pistol and sent a bullet to the other two aliens their heart and head. You could feel on your back that you had been scratched but you shook it off and went further.

The minutes flew by and you couldn't even remember what you were doing to them, you saw that Okoye needed a little bit of help and you gave her back cover. ''Are you okay?'' she asked while the two of you circeled around the aliens, you hummed but it didn't reassured her. ''I don't think we are going to win it'' you said, she didn't gave a response but instead killed an alien. You heard someone talking to you in your ear, ''I can't hear you, speak louder'' you commanded and slammed an alien to the ground. ''Y/N, someone needs medical help, I will sent you the coördinates come fast!'' you heard Natasha talking to you and you bid Okoye farwell and you cleared your way between the aliens and the people.

When you arrived you saw that Nathasha gave pressure on the wound of a soldier, ''Nat you need to give me cover while I treat her alright?'' You saw that she was from the Dora Milaje, you took off your medpack and opened it quickly and kneeled down. Adreneline rushed to your body and you took a bottle of water out of the pack and rinshed the wound. ''How did it happen?'' you asked to her, in the hope she didn't pass out. ''I got clawed, but I will survive'' she mumbeled, you softly talked to her while you disinfected the wound. You sliced the plastic of a sterile towel of and depped the wound clean, there was blood on your hands and you smeared it off on your suit. Natasha was shooting some aliens and said to you that you needed to hurry up. Your stress level went up a bit when she said that and you stichted the soldeir up and covered the wound incase if it went bleeding again. ''Nat, you can go, I will protect her'' after you said that she went away and you stood your ground and eyed your surroundings.

You didn't knew how much time had passed, hope was slowely running out of your system and you were certain that you were losing. Aliens were around you and you felt desperate, you did your best to protect her and sometimes you got help from someone else, it wasn't easy to check on her and to kill aliens but you managed. Suddenly an axe went flying around and killed some aliens around you. What the hell is happening you thought to yourself, not that you were ungrateful, you were very grateful but you didn't know who it was, until something suddenly clicked in your brain, Thor.

After Thor joined the fight with a raccoon with a gun and a walking tree? You thought you could finally win this battle and have a good nap after this, but alas you were wrong, very wrong. A few meters further you saw that Steve was protecting Vision and Wanda. You turned around and asked in Xhosa if she need any further medical assistence or that she would manage it. The soldier sent you away and you joined Steve, you didn't expect the guy who is supposed to be the most evil person in the universe purple but you also saw a man with red skin and without a nose when you served the army so it didn 't really surprise you. More people joined the fight and when you threw your bomb and fire your last bullets, Thanos raised his fist towards it and reversed the time so it couldn't explode, then he aimed at you and fired the bomb back. ''Shit'' you mumbled, you flew across the air and yelled in pain. A few splinters from the bomb scratched your face and neck, you could fell blood prickle on your skin from the splinters that were stuck in your body. Your ears were ringing and you shut your eyes tight from the bright light, sniffing the air you could smell burning flesh and you softly cried, you didn't want to see the aftermath of what happend to you. Some people were yelling, but black dots were clouding your eyes and with your tears you couldn't see well. How can he do this, what did we do to deserve this, the more you thinked the more your head hurted, maybe a little rest wouldn't hurt and with that on your mind you blacked out.

When you opened your E/C eyes you whimpered in pain, signaling to the remaining people that you were awake. You saw Steve in your field of vision and you could see that his eyes were red. You lifted your arm and cradled his face with your vibranium arm, you furrowed your eyebrows and wiped a few tears away. ''You've been crying, Stevie'' a nickname that he only heard from you when you were concerned about him. ''What happend?'' you whispered softly after you gave him a reassuring smile, he didn't meet your eyes but looked to the left of you. You turned your head, but you wished you hadn't, your eyes met the blank stare of Vision and you let out a startling scream. Terror was running through your veins and tears of dispair were filling your eyes and falling on your cheeks. You reached out your arm towards him but you only could feel the cold of his vibranium body and if you looked better you could see the pile of ashes that laid besides him. Your arm fell to the ground and you sniffed, ''What happened here Steve?''

#marvel #potc #pirates of the caribbean #avengers #avengersinfinitywar #avengers endgame #james norrington #james norrington x reader #james norrington imagine #elizabeth swann #jack sparrow #marvel crossover #fanfic #henry turner #will turner

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

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Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 13. Flames

First | Previous | Next

(we using the same gif cause I couldn’t get the bridge gif to work sorry no sorry)

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

Soon the camp was left near barren. The saviours had made up more than half the work force and as far as it seemed you were the only one left. You spotted Daryl sitting in front of a white tent eating an apple. You bee-lined past Eugene and Rick to him, sitting on the chair just opposite from him.

“Hey” Daryl greeted you warmly. You just smiled at him then went back to staring in the middle ground, leaned down in the chair and your arms crossed. You sat there in peeved silence for a moment, just not wanting to be alone right now. “Heard the yelling match you had-”

“Don’t” You said, closing your eyes and shaking your head in annoyance. “I feel stupid enough as is.”

A hand landed on your knee and Daryl’s gruff voice said “You ain’t stupid, Darlin’”

That made you smile whether you liked it or not. You looked at him through the side of your eye, leaning forward and looking at you with so much love. “Darlin’, huh?” you commented on the new pet name. You uncrossed your arms and took his hand in yours, ignoring how sticky it felt from the apple he was eating. “I could get used to that.”

“Anything I can do for you? You name it, I’ll make it happen.” Daryl said.

“Just sit with me a while.” You droned, clearly exhausted. “Before you gotta up and go again.”

“‘Course” he reassured you, kissing your knuckles. You detached your hands so he could finish his apple and you were happy to sit with him. The noise of the camp was gone and there wasn’t anything you could do, but with Daryl you always felt at ease. Though something seemed off about him. A kind of anger was boiling under your skin. Maybe he was pissed the Saviours up and left too.

Jerry arrived back on horse and was talking to Rick. You didn’t bother yourself with it but Daryl’s interest seemed to be piqued. Especially when he walked by talking rapidly into a walkie talkie. You tuned into the conversation out of curiosity.

“I need you to get an urgent message to Alexandria… If Maggie Rhee shows up, delay her at the gate and alert Michonne right away. Do not... repeat… do not let her in without an escort. Over”

“What’s happening?” You asked Daryl. He didn’t look at you as he stood up. You stood up after him and walked behind

“And, Maggie, if you're listening… let's talk.” Rick tucked the walkie back into his belt.

“Hey. What’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked as he approached.

“Maggie's headed to Alexandria.” Rick explained.

“Is that bad?” You asked.

“She's about do something she might regret.” Rick explained further, grabbing the horse.

“Hop on. I'll take you.” Daryl said.

“You sure? We got enough fuel?” Rick asked, already moving to Daryl’s bike

“Yeah. We’ll get there quicker.” Daryl said, climbing onto the bike. “I’ll be back soon, Darlin’” he called to you.

“Better be in one piece” you shot back.

“I’ll make sure of it, Y/N!” Rick replied. You watched as they took off down the road, leaving you in a crumbling camp.

You wandered around the camp, finding the Alexandrians had left too and what was left of hill top and oceanside were scattered with talk of leaving. You eventually came upon Carol. She was packing up with a group you recognised as the kingdom's people. “You leaving too?” You called, grabbing her attention. You settled onto the heel of your feet and placed your hands into the back pockets of your hips, watching as she asked a nearby man to finish packing up the crate.

“This place is bust, Y/N” She said, walking towards you. “I know you tried earlier but-”

“Yeah” you hissed through your teeth. “I get it.” She looked away, seemingly embarrassed. “You're going back to the kingdom I see.”

“There’s room on the wagon if you want” Carol offered, seemingly remorseful.

“No.” You replied “I told Sanctuary I’d be back.”

Carol shook her head in disbelief then chuckled as she threw her head to the sky then back to you. “I don’t get it. You hated it there!” She expressed while you nodded along in agreement. “But you wanna go back?”

‘I was trying to cover my ass but now everyone who knows me is dead’ you thought. Though that wouldn’t fly. Your childhood made you an adept liar though. ‘No granny those aren’t vomit stains on the carpet I just spilled my porridge. Yes, I eat porridge now.’

“I was scared. And lonely. But in time it got less so.” you explained, not breaking eye-contact. “I don’t know the Saviours you knew, but the ones I know appreciate my work. And they’ve got nothing. I had nothing and Daryl came to me, gave me a shot. I wanna extend that to them.”

“We won’t help,” Carol said. “Too many people were hurt.”

“Well if you’re gonna turn away starving children and hard working people,” You retorted. “We’ll go elsewhere.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” Carol chuckled.

“Right back at ya,” you turned to leave and pack your things when Carol called you. She came up to you and offered you a revolver and a belt holster.

“You’ll need it,” she said. You took the belt and weapon.

“Thanks, Carol.” You said. She pulled you into a hug that you returned with gusto then parted so you could pack your things.

You didn’t have much, mainly your knife and the clothing on your back but Enid had forgotten some valuable supplies in the infirmary. Between that, the change of clothes you had and a couple apples you had hidden away in your tent for later, your bag was bare.

You were about to set out and start dismantling one of the tents to bring back when you heard bullets fly. You immediately got low to the floor and pulled out your gun, checking if it was loaded.

The rounds sounded too rapid to be one sided. You walked out the back of the tent and noticed the shoot out. It was a small group of saviours going after Carol’s group. You took a deep breath and ran out of the tent and behind a nearby tree, then peered out the side and took two quick shots at the group. You managed to hit one and the larger group was now caught off guard. In the time it took you to unload the barrel you downed another two and the fire fight had ended with Carol’s group victorious and a number of the Saviours running back into the woods. They disappeared as quickly as they appeared. You ran over to Carol’s group.

“Is everyone alright?” You asked.

“They got Fred!” one of the hilltoppers yelled. You looked at the armoured body and knew in an instant he was gone from the axe wound alone.

“You gotta come with us,” Carol said to you. “The shots would’ve attracted the herd.”

“Alexandria’s the safest bet with the way that herd is moving” Jerry put in.

“Alexandria it is then,” you agreed, helping load up now. The tents were abandoned. Someone from Oceanside radioed that the camp wasn’t safe but no one checked for a response. Everything was loaded up and the carriages were moved.

Off in Alexandria, in someone else’s world. Maggie entered the dark basement cell. Her face was illuminated by what little light creeped between the shutters. Negan chuckled.

“Aw, she just gave up the keys, huh?” He jested “It's a shame. She got the blade, but you...You got the fire. My money was on you.”

Maggie looked into his cell. He sat on his bed, shrouded in darkness. “So you remember me.” She spoke into the darkness”

“'Course I do.” Negan Replied “It's why I thought you were gonna win.”

“Good.” Maggie swallowed hard, emboldening her resolve. This was it, she was going to give this monster what he deserved. “Get on your knees.”

“You know, I remember you screamin' in that clearing.” Negan muled aloud, standing up and walking closer to the bars yet not completely out of the darkness “I remember how much I broke you breakin' open your husband's head like I did.”

“Glenn.” Maggie snapped “His name was Glenn.”

“So now what? You finally come for…” Negan paused for intentional dramatic effect “revenge?”

“Justice.”

“Damn.” Negan gasped “Thought you'd do this a hell of a lot sooner. It take you this long to work up your nerve?

“I was always gonna settle this,” Maggie retorted, her voice growing in volume “what you did to my husband. Get on your knees.”

“What I did to him?” Negan pressed “You mean how I cracked open his skull and popped out his goddamn eyeball? How I bashed his big, beautiful brains into the ground over and over while you and his little friends watched? Is that what you mean?

“Ah, I used to say that I didn't enjoy killin'.” Negan sighed with satisfaction “That was a lie. Your old man… Christ, I forgot his name again. But he was different. Killin' him the way I did, ooh, now, that was fun.”

Maggie pressed the key into the lock, the teeth rolling over the internal mechanisms echoing in the dark cell. Negan took to his knees, as had been requested of him.

“Get to it. Have your justice. Kill me. It was worth it.”

“Lemme see you in the light.” Maggie demanded.

“Come on.” Negan beckoned her on “Kill me.” She turned the key, the lock clicking loudly. “You not have it in you?” Negan teased “Don't you punk out like Rick.”

“Come into the light.” Maggie demanded again.

“Kill me. This is what you came here for!” Negan demanded, his tone becoming desperate “You kill me!”

“Move into the light.” Maggie spook through her teeth, peeved.

“Kill me.” Negan’s head went down and he began to cry. Maggie finally lost her patience, pulling the door open and tearing Negan from his cell and into what little light there was in the room.

“Please. Please.” Negan began to beg. He was disheveled and cowering on the floor in a useless pile. “Please kill me.

“Why?” Maggie asked

“You have to. Just do it.”

“You tell me why!” Maggie began to yell at him “Tell me! Why should I?!”

“So I can be with my family!” Negan cried out “So I can be with Lucille! And with my Y/N!” Negan sobbed silently.

“I should be dead.” He began to ramble “I have to be dead. And it's supposed to be you. It has to be you, because I can't do it. I can't do it. I've tried. I can't. I can't be like this. Please, please don't make me stay like this. It's... Settle it.” He was so distraught every other word he was gasping for air. “Settle me. Kill me. Please.”

“Get back in your cell.” Maggie ordered

“No.” Negan protested from the floor where he lay “No. No. No.” He sobbed “Why?”

“I came to kill Negan,” Maggie said “and you're already worse than dead. That settles it.” Negan hid his face as he sobbed “Go.” she ordered.

He knew better than to argue with her, especially how she pulled him out of the cell without breaking a sweat. “It wasn't supposed to be like this.” He protested weakly, “It wasn't supposed to be like this.”

With that Maggie locked the gate and left the cell, content that her husband’s murderer was suffering.

“What the hell was that?” One of the kingdom’s people said when they were far enough away, clearly talking to you. In their eyes you were the last saviour. They strode up behind you.

“I don’t know” You muttered, pulling one of the horses along the road

You were walking as fast as you can, basically dragging the horses and carriages and this man wanted to fight. “What do you mean you don’t know!”

“I don’t know!” You yelled back, continuing to move. “People do stupid shit when they’re scared!”

“They killed Fred!”

“We killed them!” You finally let go of the horse and turned around to face the man. “And you’ve been killing them for a long time!”

“You don’t know what they-”

“The war?” You cut him off “I know that there is a factory full of people who are starving, working their ass off to get you ethanol, and have no protection.” You were too caught in the moment to notice the wagon train had stopped moving and too angry to hear Jerry and Carol calling to you “Not fighters! Workers! People who didn’t get a chance to defend themselve in your precious fucking war and are paying the price for it!”

Horses trotted up to meet you halfway in the road. You recognised Maggie, Eugene, Tara, and Michone and a few others. Daryl rode up from the back of the group on his bike.

“What happened?” Maggie rode up to the group and asked Carol.

“Saviours jumped us. Ended up shooting each other.” Carol explained. “The gun fire could’ve attracted the herd so we left.”

“Where’s Rick?” Daryl asked.

“He’s not with you?” You shot back.

“What if he headed back to the camp?” Beatrice, a girl from Oceanside, pitched. You could feel the panic set in the group. Daryl disembarked from his bike.

“I know a shortcut. Come on!” He lead the way into the forest. You and a large group instantly took off on foot, following him closely. Within minutes you were back at the bridge to a horrifying sight.

Countless walkers were crossing the bridge. The herd was so thick no sunlight was travelling through and standing at the end of the bridge, with all those walkers heading right towards him, was Rick. Daryl already had his bow out and was picking off the walkers that got too close to his friend.

“What is he doing?!” Maggie yelled.

“He's hurt!” Michone cried. You noticed his clothes were soaked in blood

“That herd that went right through Hilltop.” Daryl gasped “He's trying to bring down the bridge.”

In the next instant Michone had her sword out and was running towards the herd. You called after her and ran after her.

“We turn them around. Fight 'em back.” Maggie followed close behind you

“Fire your guns.” Carol ordered “Try to divert them.

Michone called to Rick as you all ran to the herd, but a moment later the herd caught in flames. Michone stumbled back as the orange heat climbed above your heads. She stood there a moment, shocked into place. You looked through the flames and felt yourself thrown back into your army days.

Rubble and sand were all around you. The air was heavy with debris. It was you, five other servicemen and countless civilians trapped into a crumbling building while bullets flew outside. Children were crying and parents could do nothing to calm them. There was a moment of calm. A moment to get the group through a gap in the rock fall near the back of the building. You got them through while the others lay down ground fire, keeping the enemy at bay. You pulled yourself through the hole after the last of the civilians made it out and went about helping your fellow soldier. They were nearly clear when an explosion went off in the building and you were both sent backwards. You could feel the heat from the explosion on your face, but your ally could feel their life seeping out of their lost leg. He screamed out in complete agony.

The same way Michone screamed out. When you felt yourself come back you noticed Maggie and Carol were holding her back and you had fallen to the ground.

“Y/N!” Tara yelled to you, pulling the rest of you into the present “We have to go!” You nodded rapidly and pulled yourself to your feet. You all retreated back a ways so the herd wouldn’t come to you right away.

“I need to find him,” Michone sobbed. “I need to help him.”

The smoke was rising above them in thick clouds. The radio was going crazy with people who were seeing the smoke.

“What was that?”

“Was that the bridge?”

One of the people with you got on the radio. “Rick!” he called breathlessly “He blew it to stop the herd!”

Everyone around you was in shock and crying horribly. These people had followed Rick, and now they seemed lost. You were in no way a leader but-

“We can look downstream.” You spoke up. Pale and contorted faces looked back at you. “If he fell in the water he’ll be downstream… If he got hit by the blow back he’ll be on the road bu-”

“You heard her.” A man with long hair in a bun and a beard. His face was red but he was already tired of crying “Downstream.”

“I gotta-” Michon spoke, shaking as she got back to her feet. The man beckoned her. In the next moment a small group had run past to look downstream.

“I gotta go to Sanctuary” You announced to those left. Carol nodded, tears streaming down her face. “They gotta know what happened here.”

“Go,” she croaked out, “and bring them back to kingdom.” Beatrice immediately got angry at the notion but before she could speak Carol silenced her. “Without that bridge they’ll starve. Rick didn’t fight for that.” Carol looked back at you. “Go.”

~Tag List~

@felicisimor @bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

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hedgehogcryptid · 2 years

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lately my brain has been cobbling together the most random crossovers imaginable

Like “you know who would apreciate Sabo in all his deranged revolutionary glory? Zabuza. Zabuza would apreciate a feral bastard with a thing for hitting government officials with a steel pipe”

But the wildest crossover that came to me due to a series of unforeseen events* was Golden Kamuy/Kimetsu no Yaiba and like,,, it was weirdly appealing? The thought of Tanjiro walking around the 7th and being absolutely nauseated by the smell of lies and treachery, all centered on Tsurumi. He would be instantly disgusted by him and the thought of that was great. Because as much as he is a nice boy he has a very strong sense of duty and justice and Tsurumi shits on those principles on a daily basis. I’m pretty sure Tanjiro would consider killing him (I mean, come on, the boy threw an axe at Giyu’s head the momment he realized mercy wasn’t an option, he’s not squeamish, never was. And Tsurumi has ruined many people’s lives, twisted their hearts to fit his goals. Tanjiro would hate him).

And like, the thought of the group who goes to Abashiri finding this precious child in the middle of the woods. A kind, dutiful, responsible kid that remained good after suffering such terrible loss. Sugimoto would be all over that shit. Doing his best to make sure no further suffering comes over him, turning into a mushy pile of feelings when he’s thanked for his efforts. And as good as Tanjiro is, as pure and innocent as people perceive him to be, he isn’t easily impresed by blood and injury. He can get angry or sad at what it means (people dying and suffering) but he’s no longer impressed by the carnage itself. Sugimoto justifiably losing his shit? Probably wouldn’t rattle him all that much, Tanjiro understands wanting to protect someone at all costs. I can imagine him in the aftermath, being worried about Sugimoto’s feelings rather than his violence.

He’d become Shiraishi’s new patron saint, what with being praised/thanked every time he does something right or helpful, and not being made fun of for being stupid or scared or hurt.

And Ogata, jesus fuck. This asshole bastard man who’s main problem is that he can’t understand his own emotions meeting the dude who can smell feelings. Who also has a tendency to validate those feelings. Tanjiro would feel for Ogata’s guilt and his loneliness, even while being perfectly aware that they’re being lied to. But even so, Ogata is helpful, in the meantime, and he has a politeness about him (unless you are Sugimoto). Even if he’s distant, he tends to be quiet and not unnecesarily rude unless he’s being purposefully antagonizing. And Tanjiro can’t be antagonized, as Inosuke discovered, so i think they could get along. And Tanjiro would break Ogata’s brain. Because he wants kind people to tarnish, to prove that they’re not so different from him, but Tanjiro is kind while able to kill, and even kind to those he kills. And he’d show Ogata honest kindness and respect that isn’t naive. Asirpa is kind to him only while she thinks he’s more or less good. Tanjiro could smell the blood and the lies and the resentment and still respect him no problem, without expecting anything in return. (and even if he thinks he has to kill the sunshine child to get rid of the complicated emotions he gets from it, he’d still be pretty much aware that Tanjiro is also esentially a mutant that can probably dodge bullets. So it’s most likely not worth the effort to try)

*those events being that I watched those series back to back with my mother . I watched golden kamuy with my mother

#golden kamuy #kimetsu no yaiba #stupid crossovers that grabbed my brain but that I cannot write #kamado tanjiro #ogata hyakunosuke #sugimoto saichi #shiraishi yoshitake #tsurumi tokushirou

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rosesandtoshi · 3 years

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Winter Lumberland ❅ Iwaizumi Hajime

❅ Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x F!Reader

❅ Warnings: lumberjack au. Established relationship. Smut, fingering, biting, dacryphilia, mild degrading, creampie, and anything else I missed.

❅ Word Count: 2026

❅ A/N: Lumberjack!Iwa idea came from @meiansmistress and @kurinoot. Some of this was self indulgent. My dream is to have sex in front of the fireplace in your room while the snow falls outside. Mmm. So this was perfect to add this in. As always, minors dni. Also thank you Keri and Tina for beta reading and for the banner Tina!! I love you guys 🥺🥺

Taglist: @meiansmistress @kurinoot @hogwarts--imagines @ssrated1volleyballplayer

❅❅❅

She knew living in the mountains wasn’t going to be easy. She especially knew that her husband worked really hard for them to have a wonderful life. Everyday, he drove up to the cabin he was working on for the two of them to live. He’d leave early in the morning and come home really late at night. ‘It’ll all be worth it in the end.’ She always thought as she worked around their tiny apartment in the city.

Iwaizumi recently got a job at a lumberyard in the mountains and the drive was too far from him to make daily, so he proposed an idea to his wife about building a cabin closer to his work.

“You know where you go, I go, right, Haji?” She asked him one night after he had come home from work.

So day after day, Iwaizumi worked diligently for her while she managed everything at home. Since she was a freelancer, it would be easy for her to move. They started saving all their money to make this happen. She was the one who drew the layout for the cabin and managed the decorations. She sat at her little desk in the living room when Iwaizumi came home one day with a smile on his face from ear to ear.

“Baby, guess what?” He asked, coming to her side.

“Yes, my love?”

“I’m almost done. In a month or so, we’ll finally have our home!” He said excitedly, pulling her up into a hug. He wouldn’t let her go with him to help or anything. He wanted her to be surprised. “Do you have the decorations ready?”

“I do,” she said, leaving his grasp and getting the paperwork for him. “You can at least let me shop for you.”

“No, no. I want you to be completely surprised.” Iwaizumi smiled at her. She rolled her eyes a bit and smiled back at him.

“Fine fine. Whatever you say.” She playfully hit his chest. “You’re too good to me, Hajime.”

“I only want the best for us baby.” He said, grabbing her hand and placing a soft kiss on it.

“Baby. You know you’re all I need, right?” She said looking up at him. He smiled softly at her and leaned in for a kiss.

“I think I’m the lucky one here.” He kissed her again.

“Let’s go to bed. You need to rest.” He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, earning a giggle from her.

“Not without you baby.” He said, smacking her ass and going to their bedroom.

❅❅

The time had come for them to finally move. She packed their apartment while Iwaizumi finished up the final touches on the cabin. Everything was moved and she stood in front of the cabin, blindfolded and her hand in his.

“Is this necessary?” She whined out to him.

“Yes. I want you completely surprised.” Iwaizumi said, squeezing her hand.

“Okay. You ready?” She nodded her head furiously.

“So impatient.” He removed her blindfold and she gasped at the cabin in front of her. It was perfect.

“Baby.” She turned to look at him, her eyes welling up with tears before she threw her arms around him. “Iwaizumi Hajime, it’s perfect! You’re perfect! I love you so much!”

“You like it? Are you sure?” He asked, a bit unsure of himself.

“Haji, I love it so much! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for. You built this for us and I couldn’t ask for anything more.” She said, smiling at him. “Now come on. I can’t wait to see it!”

She grabbed his hand again and pulled him to the front door. She opened it and gasped again at the inside. All the decorations she had written down were bought, and everything was set up just like how she laid it out on the blueprint for him. She excitedly walked around the living area first, gazing at the beautiful fireplace in the middle of the wall adorned with beautiful furniture.

She then went to the kitchen and dining area. The kitchen sink had a window above it so she could see the front yard into the woods. She then went upstairs and looked around at the four bedrooms, as she went to the master bedroom first and stared in awe at it. It was everything she wanted and more. The windows went from top to bottom and overlooked the mountains just like how she wanted it. And last but not least, the fireplace in the wall across the bed, her only request. She smiled and looked out the windows at the beautiful scenery. She was thankful their neighbors were far away so no one would be able to look in and snoop. Iwaizumi leaned on the door frame, with arms crossed and watching his little wife in awe at their cabin.

“Hajime.” She called to him, her hand extended. He walked over to her and grabbed it, pulling her to him. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

“Thank you as well.”

“Why are you thanking me?” She quirked up at him.

“For staying by my side through it all.”

“You know where you go, I go, right, Haji?” She asked, saying what she said before. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I love you.” He said, pressing his lips to hers.

“I love you, too.” She said, kissing him back.

❅❅

A month went by and they were fully settled in their new house. Winter had come, so Iwaizumi was outside chopping for firewood as snow started to fall. She stood at the kitchen sink, humming and washing some dishes as she watched Iwaizumi chop for their firewood supply. She wouldn’t deny that he looked absolutely hot chopping away, with the way his arms tensed as he brought the axe down, and the way his sweat dripped down his forehead while he wiped it away with his flannel.

She couldn’t help but rub her thighs together as she continued to watch her husband chop all the wood. One particular swing made him growl out at the wood and the glass slipped out of her hand, breaking it into pieces. The water splashed her apron and on the floor. She felt her cheeks heating up when she looked back out the window and saw Iwaizumi smirking back at her. She quickly grabbed the towel and cleaned up the water on the floor when she heard the door open and the sound of wood being dropped in the bin by the fireplace. Footsteps came behind her as she stood up.

“Spill some water there, babe?” Iwaizumi asked her, smirking down at her.

“Yeah. Silly me. I’m going to go change. Be right back.” She shuffled away from him and ran up stairs. The room was warm from the lit fireplace. She quickly took the apron off and took off her shirt when she felt hands go around her waist and lips on her neck. She gasped when Iwaizumi sucked on her sweet spot.

“I saw you watching me the whole time I was chopping wood.” He whispered into her ear, making her shudder. “Is my slutty girl that needy?” His lips attached to her neck again while his hands roamed the front on her body. His hands slipped under her bra and groped her breasts, prompting a moan to escape her lips as she pushed further back into him. “Ahh, someone is needy, I see. Why don’t I take care of that?”

He turned her around and crashed his lips to hers. Her hands went up to the buttons on his flannel and she started unbuttoning it, pulling it down his back and running her hands up and down his chest. She raked her nails softly across his chest, causing him to groan. His hand unclasped her bra and he tossed it to the side, his hands moving to grab them. He pushed her back gently as she laid down on the bed, breaking the kiss as he grabbed the top of her skirt and pulled it down. He shrugged his jeans off and climbed back on top of her.

“Did my little slut enjoy seeing me chopping wood?” He asked as lips lowered down to one of her nipples. She arched her back and let out a loud moan as his mouth connected to it. His other hand moved rather slowly to her clothed pussy as he sucked and drew circles around her bud. He bit a little harder, making her gasp.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes Haji, I enjoyed watching you chop wood.” She moaned out as his hand started to rub small circles on her clit. He moved lower and could feel the wetness in her panties.

“Already so wet baby. All from me chopping wood.” He chuckled out and pushed her panties to the side, dragging his finger slowly up and down her slit. A whine left her mouth as he continued to tease her. Her hand went to his hair and she pulled a bit.

“Stop teasing me. Please!” She let out a loud gasp when she felt him plunge two fingers into her.

“Is this what you wanted? For me to fill you up?” He inserted another finger only to pull them all out, making her whine loudly. “Beg for me, slut.”

“Please Haji, I need you. Need you to fill me up.” He smirked before sticking his fingers back into your pussy. She moaned loudly when his mouth went back to her nipple, this time biting it. His fingers continued to pump in and out of her as she pulled tighter and tighter on his hair. She yelped when his thumb came up and started rubbing circles on her aching clit. She felt the knot in her stomach as she started to buck her hips up. Iwaizumi smacked her thigh, making her still.

“Please, let me cum. I’ve been a good girl, Haji. Let me cum!” She moaned out to him.

“You have been a good girl but I don’t want you to cum just yet.” He pulled his fingers out again. She felt tears start to well in her eyes at the loss of his fingers. He stood up and pulled her panties completely off as well as discarding his underwear. He pumped his cock a few times before going back on top of her. He grabbed her legs and pushed them up to her chest before lining his cock up with her pussy. He teased her by just putting his head in, the tears flowing down her face.

“I won't tease my little slut anymore. She’s had enough.” He said before snapping his hips into hers, bottoming out inside of her. She gasped at the sudden fullness that turned into a moan as he started to thrust his hips in and out of her. Iwaizumi clenched his eyes at the feel of her pussy squeezing his cock.

“God baby, after all the fucking we do, you’d think you wouldn’t be so tight.” He groaned out making her moan.

“S’full Haji.” She managed out, the tears still falling down her face as Hajime fucked her. His pelvic bone rubbed up against her clit and she felt the knot returning.

“I can feel it baby. Your pussy is tightening on me. Do you want to cum now?” She moaned out a yes, and Hajime let go of her legs and wrapped them around his waist. She clung to him as he started to pound into her, her nails scratching his back. She felt the knot getting bigger before it snapped.

“I’m cumming, I'm cumming! Oh god—Hajime!” She cried out as her orgasm crashed down on her. He picked up his pace to chase his own high as her pussy milked his cock. He grunted out her name as he spilled his load into her. After a few small thrusts, he pulled out of her, picking her up and taking her to the bathroom.

Once they cleaned up, she snuggled into his chest while the fire roared and the snow fell outside the window. She sighed happily as he kissed her hair.

“I love you, Hajime.” She whispered, her eyes closing slowly.

“I love you too.”

#iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu smut #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu!!#smut #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines

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starcrossedkaiju · 3 years

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Kingslayer AU: Chapter Four

I would say this is where the plot really kicks up. Especially next chapter.

\\ Warnings: blood, violence, guns //

Home was quiet under the overcast winter sky. A blanket of snow covered everything in sight. Scott shoved his hands in his pockets and shivered away the chill creeping down his back. It was beginning to snow more heavily as the evening set in on the server.

Winter never faired well with him, it made his hands and knees weak, and stuck him with a near constant headache. Most ailments rendered him bedridden if it was cold enough outside. He hoped he wouldn’t get sick.

Jimmy had hurried them into Scott’s home quickly after entering the walls. It wasn’t really Scott’s anymore as both of them had been sharing the space for quite a while. There was evidence of each of them strewn about.

It could do with some cleaning but the clutter made it feel more natural.

Safer, perhaps.

Scott took his shoes and jacket off. He left them near the door so no muck would get tracked into the house. It was cold inside from a week of being neglected, not a lamp had been left on after he went to see the Sand People.

One glance at his bed proved to be the nail in the coffin. He climbed into the loft and lay down, his head hit the pillow and he was out.

*****

Water trickled across the ceiling. It dropped down and landed on Scott’s cheek. Plunk Plunk Plunk.

Scott blinked into awareness and looked for the source of his awakening, only to find that it was completely dark. Panic surged through him and he sat up quickly only to hit his head on a hard surface. His hands flew out in surprise and hit two stone walls.

“What,” he breathed.

The floor beneath him was damp from perpetual rain seeping into the cell.

“No,” he whispered repeatedly.

The darkness was suffocating this time, he couldn’t calm down, he knew he’d run out of air eventually. Maybe the lack of oxygen was finally making him go crazy, imagining the walls were getting closer and closer. Scott pushed himself up against the corner and hugged his knees to his chest.

The water that woke him up seemed to flow more like a waterfall now. It hit the jagged floor and slowly approached the corner Scott had decided to glue himself to, but it didn’t stop. The water only grew deeper and deeper. He was too tired to even care. Death seemed like a more peaceful option then trying to escape.

He would drown in his tomb alone, and they would get away with it.

*****

Scott’s eyes flew open. This time not to a completely dark stone tomb, but a softly moonlit bedroom. His bedroom.

A weight from behind him made itself known.

Jimmy must have gotten into bed with him earlier that night. The covers were pulled over both of them.

Scott turned around and leaned into his sleeping husband’s arms, taking a few moments to assure himself of his surroundings; and that he was safe at home.

Sensing that his night of sleep had been cut short, Scott meticulously unwrapped himself from Jimmy’s arms and replaced himself with a pillow.

His socks masked most of the noise he made as he exited the room and partially closed the door behind him. It was deathly silent when he unhooked his coat (the one he didn’t ruin) from its place on the wall, equipped his boots, and slipped outside.

The contrast of warmth from inside to outside made Scott’s eyes water. His hands were safe inside his mittens when he brushed some snow off his front steps and sat down.

It was a bit windy outside, breeze funneled through the valley and into the Hobbit town. It bounced off the hills and dissipated into the air. Scott wished he’d brought his telescope so he could admire the sky, which was clear at the moment. A lonely band of the Milky Way sliced across the cosmos to the west.

Stargazing always filled him with a feeling of yearning. He couldn’t remember why, or even when it had started, but ever since he found himself on this server with borders and rules he felt out of place. Not just in the way he looked, but being grounded for so long. Scott had trouble understanding the ways of this world. It was obvious that he didn’t quite fit.

The snow had died down since they arrived hours earlier, nobody had cleared it for a while so it was near shin deep. Every inch of the landscape was buried, including the entrance to their enchanting room, and all the flowers that would typically adorn the forest floor.

Something was wrong.

Scott couldn’t put his finger on it. Coming to alertness, he scanned the scenery like a hawk until he saw it.

Footprints.

Fresh. Footprints.

Directly in front of his home, they came right up to the first step and no further. There was multiple sets fanning out across the lawn area. He could see all three sets from his perch.

Scott froze with fear. Someone had paid a visit in the middle of the night while they were asleep. He wondered why, but he knew.

He was about to get up and lock himself inside when he felt something step on the creaking stairs right behind him. Scott’s eyes flicked to the side for a split second before he instinctively stood up and attempted to flee down the remaining steps, but he didn’t make it.

A hand instantly wrapped around his forearm and wrenched him backwards, he fell into an armored torso. A gloved hand clapped over his mouth, and an arm snaked under his own to render them paralyzed.

“It would be in your best interest not to scream Major,” a terrible Scottish accent made itself known. Scott nearly rolled his eyes.

Of course, this dramatic fool had to come and ruin his night. One thing was for certain, he was not getting kidnapped again.

A sharp object poked at his ribs.

“Just a precaution,” someone said in a falsely apologetic tone. No doubt it was Skizzle.

That meant that he was being immobilized by Martyn. He should have known really, that man followed the Red King anywhere. Upon the ladder’s orders, he escorted Scott down the steps and across the snow stricken grounds, just next to Jimmy’s “house” that they’d mainly been using as storage for the odds and ends that didn’t fit in Scott’s place.

The hand was removed from his jaw and he jolted his head away with a mirthful expression. He fixed his eyes directly where he assumed Ren’s were beneath his sunglasses; which he was wearing in the dead of night. Asshole.

Skizzle stood next to Ren with an imposing posture, as Martyn had a free hand to hold his own weapon with. The weapon being an enchanted diamond axe which he held with a sort of pride.

“You know,” Ren began, “I must give it to you Major, that escape you pulled off was impressive,” he spoke in an unbothered manner and ground his foot upon a rock somewhere under the snow.

“Why are you doing this, Ren?” Scott cut to the chase. He was uninterested in games.

“You aren’t even a red lifer. You can’t kill me,” he added.

Ren scoffed. He adjusted his glasses, “and who exactly is policing that rule?” he said with a knowing quirk of an eyebrow.

“Grian?”a beat passed, “you?!” he began to laugh to himself. Skizzle and Martyn joined in momentarily.

“More green lifers have killed people than red at this stage, so don’t get on me about that,” he said.

“These are my walls,” Scott pointed out.

“That’s funny, you didn’t seem to have much respect for our walls earlier did you,” Martyn said close to Scott’s ear. He pulled away.

“Can I at least be let in on why you’re picking on me of all people?” Scott asked with no enthusiasm.

“Don’t tell me you went on and forgot that Timmy dearest is responsible for the deaths of myself and Skizzle,” Ren shot back, leaning into the other’s personal space.

Everyone looked between each other, “among other things,” Ren added.

Skiz nodded in agreement and sent a meaningful glare towards Scott’s house, where a dim light was on in the bedroom.

Scott’s mouth hung open in rueful shock, “that’s what all this is about? It was an accident,” he shouted. Which earned him a light punch in the side.

“Be quiet,” Martyn warned.

“You know he didn’t mean it! He was sorry and you know it. The only reason you’re even here right now is because it was an accident. Don’t do this to him,” Scott half pleaded but he was more angry.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. You’re buddy buddy with the people who want to kill us too. Hmm, maybe you are familiar with the term ‘covering our bases’?” Ren added.

“This isn’t all about your perfect little life Major,” Ren dropped the accent and took Scott by the front of his jacket.

“Things are going to change around here for all of us, and it starts with your Timmy paying his dues,” he said.

Scott’s face pulled into a scowl. He thrust his head forward vigorously, the plastic CRACK of Ren’s sunglasses on impact split through his ears as he saw the “Red” King stagger backwards.

Before his goons could decide their next moves Scott lifted his foot up behind him quickly, glad he’d decided to wear his heavier boots on a whim as they collided with an unfortunate set of unmentionables.

The owner of the unmentionables keeled over. He all but threw the axe out of his hands, which Scott graciously took for himself. He tore himself free and swung around, bringing the back of the axe down on Martyn’s bowed head. Purposefully omitting the sharpened blade from the equation.

Skull met stick with a loud THWACK; and Martyn’s body went limp. The Hand fell on his side into the snow with a muffled thump.

Scott admired his work for a moment and considered it even for the lingering purple bruise still on the side of his own face.

There was no time to waste though, he turned back to the remaining members of Dogwarts with a new feeling of control.

Ren’s face was still buried in his hands. No doubt sporting a wicked nosebleed from being head-butted. His glasses were nowhere to be found. Somewhere in the deep snow.

Scott’s attention turned to Skiz now. Who was in battle position.

It was not a fair fight by any means. The Red Army was decked out in their signature crimson dyed armor (not great for sneaking around but they weren’t much into that) and their iconic shields which Scott thought were a bit ugly.

Nobody was immune to quick thinking though. Even with all that armor, a man can’t be immune to a kick in the nuts.

Skizzle made the first move. He pushed off his heel and swung his sword vertically in Scott’s direction. The ladder, shieldless, jumped out of the way. Skizzle regained his composure and ran after him like a blood sniffing shark. Scott ran away from him in as dead a sprint that can be achieved in knee deep snow, letting his pursuer gain some momentum before he sharply turned around and plunged his axe blade into the thick wood of Skiz’s shield.

The aforementioned momentum caused Skiz to keep moving while his Sheild was ripped from his arm attached to the sharp blade of Scott’s (new) shiny axe. Both of them fell over in the snow.

Wanting to get the jump, Scott staggered to his feet and sat on top of Skizzle to keep him on the ground. They pushed back and forth with their respective blades until Scott was thrown off the other, who immediately slashed his sword at him but missed by a hair.

Scott rolled away clumsily with the shield on his arm and used the handle of his axe to stand up just in time for another barrage of slashes that audibly cut through the air. Scott blocked them with his shield and with the hilt of his axe, managing to repel his opponent for enough time to get his share of hits.

“You’re using the wrong side of the axe, man!” Skizzle pointed out after being beat a few times with the non-lethal side of Scott’s weapon, which he was using his armored forearms to fend off.

“Would you rather me use the other?” Scott replied.

They went back and forth in a struggle to gain control of their respective fights, of which had seen them travel to the corner of the Hobbits’ walls where two hills flattened out and created an amphitheater with a perfect stage in the center.

The metallic clashing of weapons filled the area, Skizzle managed to wrap Scott in a chokehold, the shield had been thrown to the sidelines amongst the struggle, with a blade growing ever nearer to his throat. Scott held off the oncoming sword by brute strength alone, his hand braced against his opponent’s forearm and shook with the effort.

“This is it for you,” Skizzle strained, “no more games,” he said.

Scott answered with a war cry. He knocked the other’s chest with his elbow and threw both of them forwards a bit, just enough to wriggle free and get away from the blade. While Skiz wasn’t guarding his midsection, Scott jabbed the handle of his weapon into the space between Skiz’s chest plate and armored leggings.

A breathless cough was all that came from the man behind him, followed by a drawn out whine, then a satisfying thud and the clunking of armor as it fell into the snow.

There was no place to celebrate his victory however, when a very angry, bloody nosed king strode up to the crime scene. Ren’s expression told Scott that he wasn’t a fun target to play with anymore. Tougher than he looked, perhaps.

The leader of Dogwarts trudged menacingly up to Scott, who made to raise his weapon but instead was greeted by a fist in his face. The force threw him to the ground, where Ren’s heavy red boot descended upon his chest. A blade sliced into the hard ground next to Scott’s ear. His axe was yanked from his hands and thrown somewhere behind them by Ren.

“Alright Major. Perhaps I underestimated your capabilities,” Ren practically spat, “It’s a shame really. You would have been such an attractive addition to the Red Army,” he said with a mocking sadness.

“That was supposed to be your sales pitch?” Scott strained.

Scott could feel rivulets of blood flowing down his face from his nostrils, it seeped into his mouth and tasted like he’d eaten iron shavings. His hands were clasped around Ren’s ankle and foot, trying to alleviate the stress that was on his rib cage. He liked being able to breathe after all.

“You’ve clearly proven too much for my army to handle,” Ren jerked Scott by the front of his shirt, as if he was the one to blame for his army’s failure.

“But I digress. I guess I’ll kill you now,” the Red King smiled down at him with a devious grin, and shoved him harshly to the ground.

Scott could see that his eyes were a striking yellow, set back in his head a bit so that they were perpetually shadowed by his eye sockets. Strands of white and brown hair fell around his face, and his right ear twitched upon his head.

His vision was swimming dangerously close to blacking out as Ren hoisted his weapon, a glimmering diamond axe with a gold accented handle, above his head. Scott shut his eyes and prepared for the cold hard inevitable when a loud POP ricocheted off the amphitheater walls. Followed by a dull plunk.

The axe fell from Ren’s hands like it was knocked away. He jumped like he’d been startled. His eyes were blown wide, and Scott thought he might look scared.

Ren raised a shaky hand to his right shoulder, turning it a bit so he could see, he gently touched the surface of his arm. His fingertips came back covered in a layer of blood.

He began to slowly turn around, Scott sat up on his elbow to follow his line of sight.

Standing in the entrance to the amphitheater, in the snow that had been disturbed by the previous altercation, was a furious looking Jimmy.

His hunting rifle was still raised and aimed at the Red King, smoke poured from the barrel and floated into the frigid air.

Ren stood up and faced Jimmy, an out of place smile gracing his countenance.

“Well! Looks like we have a full party now, I was wondering when the special guest was going to show up,” he teased.

“Your little friend here put up quite the fight,” Ren took Scott by the back of his hood and lifted him out of the obfuscating layer of snow.

“You just don’t stop talking do you,” Jimmy said sternly. He didn’t move an inch, and his finger was poised on the trigger of his father’s old gun.

Ren had stopped talking. He resorted to staring down his nose at the other man.

“Get out of my walls, Ren,” Jimmy demanded.

“Now hold on dude, we’re not finished here,” Ren prefaced.

“No, I think we are done here!” Jimmy raised his voice.

“You’re going put him down right now,” he ordered, “take your men, and leave my home,” Jimmy yelled.

“Or what?” Ren asked, although it was more of a last ditch effort than a promise of more to come.

“Or I aim for your head next time,” Jimmy deadpanned.

Ren chewed his bottom lip pensively, seeming to consider his options before rendering himself rightfully defeated. He nodded curtly, and tossed the battered Scott at Jimmy’s feet. He strode over to Skizzle and kicked him encouragingly in the side, gathering him up and then going to retrieve Martyn, whom he had Skizzle sling over his shoulder.

The Red Musketeers vacated the Hobbit’s walls, going through the door they broke down on the way in. Jimmy kept his rifle trained on them until he was sure they weren’t coming back. Then he turned back to Scott, shakily flipping the safety of the rifle back on.

“Scott,” Jimmy called out, “hey, can you hear me?” it was too familiar.

“I’m fine,” Scott assured; but his husband wasn’t having it. He took the other’s face in his hands gently and assessed the damage.

“I think you have a concussion,” Jimmy observed.

“I think I could have used your help a bit earlier,” Scott joked, but Jimmy didn’t smile, “I mean I knew you were a heavy sleeper but this is ridiculous”, he added.

Jimmy helped him up and he wobbled a bit before taking in the scene he’d made. A clear path of action stretched from the front door of Jimmy’s house to the Western Wall where the amphitheater was. Some of the snow was red with blood.

Jimmy took Scott’s arm and pulled him into a half embrace, “let’s go back inside. You’re freezing,” he whispered.

“Wait,” Scott said.

He started sifting through the snow, eventually pulling out the axe he’d stolen from Martyn. Ren had retrieved his and Skiz’s weapons before leaving. He held it up and flipped it over in his hands a few times gleefully. Then, he trudged over to Jimmy’s front door and found Ren’s discarded shades under some red stained snow. The right lens was cracked down the middle, hairline fractures branched off of it.

He held the sunglasses up for Jimmy to see with a proud grin, waving them around in the air.

“How’d you manage that?” Jimmy asked, dumbfounded.

“I went like BAP!” Scott articulated as he pretended to head butt Jimmy to demonstrate, “and they must have come right off! Look at that, a perfect trophy,” he bragged.

“You know, I didn’t question why he wasn’t wearing them because I didn’t think that even he was enough of a dick to wear sunglasses in the dead of night,” Jimmy said.

“Now, inside,” he pointed to the door.

#kingslayer au #half the server is in this one boys #3rd life smp #3rdlife #3rdlife smp #scott smajor #solidaritygaming #rendog #inthelittlewood #skizzleman #cas types

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mrs-hyperfixed-writes · 3 years

Text

Are You Single - 2

Tag List: @becomeunsolved @ambiguous-g @favorite-slytherin-weirdo @a-weirdperson @artist-bby

The reader makes their way through Castle Dimitrescu, encountering the Lady and her daughters. Heisenberg might just have to re-evaluate his opinion of you when you're the unexpected victor of the battles with them.

You had ran through the glorified saw trap, avoiding Lycans and giants alike as you listened to Heisenberg’s taunting. Evidently he was an asshole, but that didn’t seem to be stopping the butterflies in your stomach going mad at the way he spoke to you. Fear had briefly crawled up your spine when he had dropped the spinning log of spikes, blocking your exit and apparently sealing your fate. Thankfully there had been a crevice in the wall, big enough to drop your backpack down by your side and protect yourself. The only thing that took damage was the handcuffs. It had briefly occurred to you that it seemed a very convenient hiding space in an otherwise foolproof killing room.

You ended up back at the gate that you had been captured at, looking over your shoulder this time as you pulled the lever up. Not that you could do anything if Heisenberg or his overgrown sister decided to double check. It seemed unlikely that either of them would treat you to a meal, but you could hope. If you were being honest with yourself though, Heisenberg hardly screamed refined dining.

No, he seemed more like a man who would order a McDonalds or a Burgerking after he’d been working tirelessly all day on a machine in a tank top. All sweaty. . . you smacked yourself in the face, snapping yourself out of your fantasy. You needed to get a grip. Preferably around his throat or his-

You slapped yourself again.

You left through the gate, coming out to an unpleasant looking vineyard. Of course, Dimitrescu was far too high and mighty to get her hands dirty doing manual labour, and any staff that she may of had to maintain the vineyard were probably dead. You shuddered at the thought of so many deaths. You didn’t know any of those people, didn’t know anyone in this godforsaken village that had been put in the middle of nowhere except for the few that had just survived long enough to be brutally killed in front of you. No one would remember any of the dead. It was as if they never existed. And if you died here - which you likely would - you would likely not be remembered. Not with fondness anyway.

You were brought out of your dark thoughts by the sound of a man groaning and wood creaking. You looked up, and to your surprise found an old-fashioned wagon settled in front of the entrance to Castle Dimitrescu. The doors swung open, and someone all but rolled out. The man was massive, both in height and weight.

“I’ve been waiting for you, my friend,” he said with the attitude of someone who was excited to get down to business.

You stopped a couple of metres away, taking it all in. How was this man even alive? Then again, Dimitrescu was nine feet tall and she seemed like she was functioning better than most people. Especially given that the tallest man in history was nearly nine foot and died super young. You could come to terms with this mans existence in no time.

“Who are you? How do you know me?” You let the uncertainty show in your voice.

“Me? I am but a humble merchant,” he said as he rubbed his hands together. “And you’ve been the talk of the town recently! An unknown human outsider making their way through hordes of creatures with nothing but an axe and some second hand guns? Remarkable.”

You hated yourself for the light blush that crept up your neck at the compliment. You never blushed.

“What can I call you?”

“Ah, forgive my manners. You can call me the Duke. Your name please?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I already know it, but some people prefer to tell others their name rather than have the introduction stolen from them.”

You chuckled, deciding to bridge the few metres of distance. “(Y/n).”

“Pleasure. Now, would you like to purchase anything for the journey ahead? Medicine? Ammunition?”

“Can you tell me what’s happened here?”

“Ah, information. All I can tell you now is that Mother Miranda has seemingly abandoned the village she has spent a century ruling. Slaughtered the villagers.” He took a long drag of a cigar he had lit before releasing the smoke into the air. “It seems she’s done it for her daughter.”

“Her daughter? Dimitrescu? Or the woman in the veil?”

“Ah, Lady Donna. But no, neither of those are her real daughters. It’s doubtful she even considers them such. The same for her sons.”

Your thoughts drifted back to Heisenberg. Did he hate her for that? For not considering him her child? Questions for later.

“Then who?”

The Duke regarded you for a second. “Sell me those crystal skulls you’ve collected, make a purchase and find me in the castle, and perhaps I’ll know more.”

You blinked in surprise, briefly wondering how he knew that you had been collecting the crystallised remains of those Lycans. Truthfully you just thought they were pretty.

After selling the remains and buying yourself some extra ammo, as well as some of the strange medicine the Duke advertised that was supposed to encourage cell division, you nodded to him in thanks and turned to face the castle.

“Although I must say,” The Duke called out before you could make much progress, “why do you wish to go into that castle? You are a stranger. There is no stake in this for you.”

You took a deep breath. Why were you doing this? That beast under your skin wanted to answer. To find and tear them apart. For revenge for all the dead. To satisfy my own need for blood and pain.

Instead you said, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

You walked towards the doors.

***

The inside of the castle was. . . beautiful. Definitely a place a lady would live. Perhaps a place you would live in another life. It seemed as though everything was trimmed with gold, including the beautiful waist high vases decorated with beautiful women. The furniture was of the highest quality, the rugs and carpets plush enough to sleep comfortably on. They looked expensive enough to cost more money than you’d ever had in your entire life. You wiped your muddy boot on the rug you were standing on, leaving a dark smear.

The thing that drew your attention most of all was the portrait that dominated the opposite wall. Three women, admittedly indistinguishable from one another, sat in big dresses. The plaque identified them as the three daughters. Three daughters that loved entertaining foreigners.

A bad feeling overcame you, and you decided to tuck your handgun into your boot, regardless of the discomfort. You covered it with your jeans.

You pressed on until you came to a main chamber that had another set of double doors decorating the walls. A scream rang out, clear as day and stopping you in your tracks. The scream of a woman in terrible pain. Part of you thought that maybe you should try to find her, but something in you knew that it had been a death scream. The agonised scream of someone who wanted to live and was denied.

You swallowed, instead making your way to the double doors, wondering where they lead.

“Well, who’s this then?” an upbeat female voice asked.

You turned to look, and only found three swarms of flies buzzing closer. And right before your eyes, they materialised into three beautiful young women. The daughters. The first thought in your head was how the painting didn’t do any of them justice.

You didn’t even have time to take your gun out of your backpack before the woman on the left - a tall blonde with blood on her mouth - grabbed you by the throat and lifted you clean off the floor, slamming you against the door. She pressed her face closer to your shoulder and took a deep sniff. You shuddered against the feeling of her nose tickling your neck.

“Fresh blood,” she said, voice dripping with a desire that put you on edge.

“Mother says you have to share, sister,” said the redhead with a childish delight, the brunette nodding in agreement with a sadistic grin on her face.

That scream echoed through your head again. The blonde stared into your face, looking for the traces of fear that likely coated their usual victims. She was going to come up empty. You cleared your throat, looking down into beautiful but evil eyes that had probably been the last thing that so many had seen, and spit right in her face.

The grin on her face froze as the glob made contact with her cheek, and then dropped off altogether when her sisters roared in laughter, one of them doubling at the waist and clutching her stomach.

She threw you to the floor, tossing your backpack aside and growling at her sisters to silence them. You leaped towards it with the intention of pulling your shotgun out, deciding to keep the handgun a secret. But she grabbed a fistful of your hair, most of her materialising back into that swarm as she did so. She dragged you through the halls, her sisters flanking you. You clawed at her hand, but to no avail.

Another swarm got too close, a face materialising. The brunette. She ripped one of your arms off of where it was clawing at the hand that felt as if it was going to rip your scalp off. She held it up to her mouth and grinned. You didn’t even have the chance to scream as she sank her teeth into the side of your forearm, digging in deep. Then she pulled back, laughing. She hadn’t done it to feed, only to hurt you. The other sister came forward, her face materialising as well to lick up the blood that was leaking down your arm. She left little bites of her own up your arm. But these were more like love bites.

Suddenly they stopped, and the oldest released the grip on your hair, using her momentum to throw you into a wall.

“Mother,” she started, “I bring you fresh prey.”

Oh no.

You turned, out of breath from the hurt your body had suffered.

“You are so kind to me, daughters.” She took a deep drink of wine and rose from her chair. “Now, let's take a look at them.”

You didn’t get up from the floor, not having the energy or the stupidity to make a scene right now. Not as she fully turned and looked down at you.

“Well, well. A nobody with no name worth knowing or manners to speak of makes their way to my castle do they? Well, you escaped my little brother's idiot games did you? Let’s see how special you are.”

She beckoned to the blonde and the redhead. They each grabbed an arm, forcefully hoisting you to your feet. You squirmed a little, but their grip was like iron as they held up the arm with the bleeding bite mark. Lady Dimitrescu raised a brow and looked back at the remaining daughter.

“Cassandra? What did I say about waiting?”

Cassandra looked down at her feet, almost seeming to be ashamed. “Apologies Mother.”

Dimitrescu gripped you by the wrist and lifted you off the ground. You gritted your teeth. She closed her mouth over the wound and sucked. If you were being honest with yourself most of your blood at this point had either transferred to your face or. . .

It wasn’t important. But apparently you needed therapy.

She dropped you suddenly, and you couldn’t help the shout that escaped your lips when your knees made impact with the floor.

“Just as I thought, nothing special.”

“May we devour their flesh now Mother-”

“But I am the one who captured them-”

“Now, now girls. First I must inform Mother Miranda of Heisenberg’s failure. But soon there will be enough for everyone.” She turned to the blonde daughter. “Bela, take them to the dungeons and shove them in a cell.”

Bela grinned at you, seizing your hair again as she dragged you along, leaving the laughter of her mother and her sisters behind.

***

Heisenberg was fuming. Not that you had escaped his trap. To be perfectly honest there were several design flaws that he wasn’t going to admit to and he really couldn’t have cared less if you had exploited them to get away. If you were running through the village, then something was bound to get you eventually. That was what he had figured anyway.

No, Heisenberg was angry because that overgrown, egocentric, glorified vampire bitch had ratted him out to Mother Miranda. He could just imagine the smug way she had said it over the phone. That grin she would have. He wished he could have buried his hammer into her face.

Miranda had expressed her disappointment in him, not that he gave a shit. But it would likely mean that she would watch him for a while, at least while she had time to spare. Preparing that stupid ceremony would take her a few days at the very least. And in that time she could do anything.

He slammed his fist down on the table. With you in Castle Dimitrescu he couldn’t even entertain himself watching you scramble around the village. Couldn’t taunt you. And he didn’t want to risk working on his army, just on the off chance that Miranda caught wind.

He hadn’t even seen you before that confrontation in front of the castle gate, and he just assumed it was blind luck you’d made it that far.

He’d probably never know how you got on in the Castle, because there was no way you were leaving that place alive.

He looked at the yellow jar on his desk, tempted to just throw it and it’s contents into a pit of molten metal. It would be kinder to the kid than whatever Miranda had planned.

***

You had been shoved in the most stereotypical dungeon in the world. It was something straight out of some Frankenstein-ish novel. Bela had left, promising that she would come back soon to retrieve you for dinner. You had given her your most hate filled look, your eyes promising nothing but violence.

That must have been ten minutes ago, and you were furiously searching the cell. You had found a gap in the wall, and in it a crumpled sheet of paper. You straightened it out, beginning to read.

To whomever is trying to escape this place,

I hope this note will be of some assistance. You don’t know me but you will have to trust me if you want to survive.

First, you need to get out of this cell. Look around for the way, get on your hands and knees if you must.

Then, search for the thing you’ll need to

escape. It will be hidden where they’ll

least suspect, soaked in blood.

The rest of the note was illegible, at some point being soaked with dry blood. You hoped that whoever had written it had gotten out.

You took the notes' advice, getting on your hands and knees. There! Under the wooden board attached to the wall there was a hole that you could crawl through. You got on your belly and went through, ending up in the next cell. You tried the door, and to your relief it opened.

You took your gun out of your boot, preparing to go into the dungeon deeper for your way out.

***

Monsters had patrolled the dungeon. Horrible emaciated monsters that held swords. The first one you had encountered held a sword, and you shot it with glee, picking the sword up. A perfect chance to conserve ammo. It was in good condition too. You sliced and hacked your way through, making it to the second part of the dungeon. You could see the stairwell at the end. Your heart soared. At least until you had to wave a fly out of your face.

“I can’t believe Cassandra caused all this mess.”

Bela. Part of you wanted to turn around and fight her, but you were sadistic not stupid. Bullets against a swarm would be pointless. Instead you ran for the stairs, shooting up them until you came to an entrance that was boarded up. Because of course it was. You attempted to hack at the boards with the sword, but it was already too late.

“Where are you going little one?”

“Oh for fucks-”

You turned to be confronted by Bela, her white teeth stark against the drying blood coating the lower half of her face. She picked you up by the neck again, throwing you through the wooden boards. You lost the sword to the far wall, instead bringing out your handgun as she mounted you, desperately trying to inflict some damage on her even when you knew the bullets would be useless. She just laughed at you.

“Bullets cannot harm-”

CRACK.

You both looked off to the side, just in time to see a window shatter and let in all the cold air. She jumped off and you skittered back, getting to your feet. She was. . . solidifying, only a few lone flies breaking away from her before the cold killed them.

And she was angry.

“You stupid-”

You shot her.

She reeled back in pain, screeching. You smiled, and shot her again.

She charged at you, raising her sickle over her head to slice at you. You ducked away from her and grabbed your sword, swinging it to block her next swing. You kicked her in the stomach, putting some distance between the two of you. Then you shot her again. And again. You could tell that she was almost done. One more bullet or swing of the sword and she’d probably shatter.

You put your gun down on a table, the sword following it.

She was doubled over in agony for the moment, but she still managed to look at you with eyes filled with hatred. The perfect mirror of the look you had given her when she had tossed you in a cell. You laughed at her again, the sound ringing right through the room. You didn’t care if it could even be heard throughout the castle. The daughters had a weakness, and if they wanted to fuck around and find out how you could exploit it then that was their problem.

“It’s funny how things just switch around isn’t it?” You asked her between manic bursts of laughter.

You charged at her suddenly, tackling her to the ground. She wasn’t nearly as strong as she had been. She clawed desperately at your thighs, screaming again as the force she was using caused them to begin to crumble. It was childish, but you got a grip on her hair and pulled as hard as you could, laughing at the screams she made as cracks spiderwebbed down from her hairline down to her eyes. Then you reeled your fist back, gave her one final smirk, and punched her in the face. Her head practically exploded into pieces. You felt yourself drop to the floor as most of her crumbled. Except for one thing. The upper half of her torso had crystallized into something beautiful. You picked it up, wondering if the Duke would buy it.

***

As it turned out, the Duke had his own special room in the castle, and he did buy the torso and the sword. You also managed to retrieve your backpack. It turned out that that medicine was bordering on magical, as the only thing left of the horrible bite Cassandra had left was a scar. Even Daniela’s hickeys were gone.

To your chagrin, if you wanted to open those double doors in the hall you were going to need four masks. The Duke provided the first one, The Mask of Sorrow. He had winked at you, telling you that this would avoid another encounter with the Lady. But when you had asked for his explanation about the events in the village, he simply told you he didn’t have it all yet, but he would at your next encounter. You thought that was bullshit. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

And now here you were, reaching for the animal's skull off the wall, hoping that maybe it would have the solution to opening that grate without having to replace the mask.

“I was worried my sisters had gotten to you first.”

Fuck. You froze. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She was by the door. You looked around the room, desperate to find a solution. You had only narrowly escaped her getting into the room. Trying to get past her while stuck in here would be impossible. Then you felt it. A draft. There was a gap in the wall being concealed by a bookshelf. You moved it, looking around for Cassandra. She was still by the door, taking her sweet time getting to you. You examined the gap. There was no way this was going to be enough to petrify Cassandra. Then you remembered the weight in your pocket. You had picked it up in the dungeon. A pipe bomb.

You felt the air shift, and had just enough time to duck as Cassandra swung at you. Taking cover on the other side of the room, you threw the bomb and covered your ears. Cassandra screamed at the bite of the cold air, somehow being louder than the initial boom the bomb had made.

“You’ve ruined the hunt!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said happily. “I’m having tons of fun.”

You pointed the shotgun at her as she charged, unloading it into her face. She stumbled back. And you did it again, not giving her time to recover. The shotgun was much more powerful than the pistol had been taking care of Bela, so it wasn’t long before Cassandra was at the same stage Bela had been before you had killed her.

“I take it back. That was kind of disappointing. I thought you’d have more in ya.”

And you don’t know if she just realised she was dying, or if she just wanted to kill you so bad that she threw common sense out of the window, but she charged at you with her weapon raised. You didn’t even move out of the way, just caught he raised wrist and squeezed. It crumbled beneath your hands. She tried to hit you with her other wrist only for you to do the same thing.

“Mother!” She cried out with all the emotion of a scared little girl. “Mother!”

You grabbed her by the front of her dress, letting her see into your eyes. Letting her see the toothy grin you were giving her that was more like a snarl. The irony of the situation struck you. Whereas it would have been her eyes brimming with cruelty and madness before, now it was yours. But you had never been afraid. Not for one second. But she was. And it made you grin even wider.

She called out for her mother again as you dragged her to the wall. You kissed her on the nose, giving her a smile that someone might give a lover, and used all your innate anger and cruelty to shove the bitch against the wall.

She shattered, leaving behind only that crystallised torso.

***

His sister had said she would call Miranda when the outsider had been killed. Well, her words were dealt with properly. Emphasis on the properly apparently. Miranda was supposed to let the rest of them know when the outsider had decided to stop being a nuisance and finally bit the dust.

But no call came. From either of them. Hell, Heisenberg hadn’t heard a goddamn thing from anyone. So. . . was the outsider still alive?

He had to admit, he didn’t expect that.

Maybe he needed to change up his expectations.

***

“So you finally came to see me?”

The final daughter. Daniela. You would have preferred not to deal with her right now, given that her mother had just surprised you and evading her through her music hall had been no small task. She had been angry and seething with bloodlust. You supposed she had learned about the deaths of her older daughters. The fact that she had sent Daniela up against you after you had proved that they were practically useless against you wasn’t scoring Dimitrescu any good mother points.

You shot at the window above. But it refused to break, and the swarms had blocked the doors. You looked around, noting that on the other side, on one of the pillars was a handle.

“Everyone always falls for me.”

You ran around her, gripping the handle and swinging it down with all your might. She screamed in agony, running to get out of the direct frozen wind. To your dismay the handle slowly turned up. Who designed this?

She was running through the bookshelves, trying to hide from you. So deranged, but slightly smarter than her sisters it seemed.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I- Why are you doing this?!” you retorted.

You pumped the handle down again before chasing her, shooting her in the back. She darted around a bookcase, circling around you and trying to get the jump on you. But you were ready, giving her another one. You were beginning to get bored of these sisters.

“You three don’t really put up much of a fight do you?”

“I thought you loved me,” she snarled.

“What the fuck has that got to do with anything I just said?”

You shot her again. Then once more for good measure. You got up close and used the butt of your shotgun wo hit her in the stomach, forcing her back.

“I don’t wanna die,” she cried out, almost begging you not to go any further with the tone she was using.

“Well you know, neither did anyone in this village or this castle but shit happens I guess.”

You threw the gun down and got a grip on her throat, dragging her to the handle where you pumped it down again. Her attempts to get away from you and out of the cold were desperate, but you maintained that grip on her neck. Slowly, your grip tightened, and you thought you could see the beginning of tears in her eyes as cracks started to multiply on her throat. You did it slowly, savouring the way her throat gave under your hand. The window was nearly shut now. You blew her a kiss, then you balled your fist, crushing her throat completely.

The window shut.

***

“The entire bloodline of House Dimitrescu is done in by the likes of you?”

You smiled at her, even as she stalked you with her claws out. She had caught you while you were figuring out which mask went where. Luckily, being so big meant she was slow.

“Damn right it is.”

“Have much blood and sweat do you think it took to raise those daughter?” She swiped. “You have incurred an impossible debt!”

The genuine sadness and pain in her voice was something that might have swayed someone else, but not you. Not after the Duke had explained what those monsters in the dungeon had really been. Not when you knew the secret ingredient of that wine. Not when that scream rattled around inside your skull.

“What? You want me to feel sorry for you? Want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness while you slice me apart? How many daughters have you murdered and turned to slaves?” You slotted the third mask in before darting just out of her reach. “You didn’t consider how many fathers and husbands you bled dry in your dungeons. Your daughters deserved to die! You deserve to die! None of you get a free pass just because I’d have sex with you!”

She made a noise of disgust and sliced downwards, narrowly missing you. You darted to the last statue, putting the mask in. The door opened and you bolted.

***

You pushed open the coffin, finding an old corpse clutching a beautiful knife. You picked it up, testing the weight. That is, before you were spun around and lifted by the neck again. Evidently this family had a choking kink.

“You ruined everything!” She screamed.

She got ready to plunge her claws deep into your stomach, but you were faster, instead driving the knife into her chest. She screamed, throwing you through the window behind you. You accidentally let go of the knife, and it tumbled off the side of the building.

You looked back at Dimitrescu. She was in pain, and obviously weakening. But large, fleshy wings sprouted out from her back, a tail soon following.

And then she was crashing through the wall, nothing but a female torso and head on the back of what looked like a dragon straight out of one of your nightmares.

“Flesh! Bones! I will devour all of you!”

“Bring it on, bitch!”

***

“Curse you.”

And those were her last words. It hadn’t been easy, but you had done it. And you smiled at her as you did so. Given that same demented smile you’d given her daughters. You still wore it.

You looked around, still half mad from the bloodlust. The only thing of note was a yellow flask, so you snatched it up, grinning even wider as the wall opened into the outside.

***

Dimitrescu was dead. Heisenberg grinned. Well, he certainly didn’t expect to watch you walk out of the castle through the camera he’d placed in the area. He hadn’t even expected you to have lasted five minutes, but evidently you were made of sterner stuff. He was impressed.

You were covered in the dust of her dead daughters, as well as Dimitrescu's own blood. It made your damaged clothes cling to your form, and as you got closer he could see the grin you were wearing, could see that deranged look in your eye. And then you looked up at him. Not just at his camera, but at him. As if you knew he was watching. Your grin turned into something else, and you brought your palm to your mouth, kissed it, and then blew the kiss at him.

He didn’t expect that to get his blood pumping. Didn’t expect watching you walk away coated in blood get it pumping even harder. What was this feeling? It wasn’t fear. It was almost like adrenaline. Almost like-

He looked down at his lap. “Fuck.”

He needed to talk to you. He would talk to you.

Hopefully he could lick the blood off of you after.

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #Mother Miranda #Reader has a crush #reader is unstable #cw: violence #Cw: some torture #cw: blood #cw: blood kink

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pieces-by-me · 4 years

Text

Golden Eyes

Words: 2627

Summary: There aren’t only rats in the tunnels under York. A big surprise for Ivar that takes his breath away.

Warnings: mentions of blood, death, imprisonment. English is not my first language and first time writing for Vikings.

@maggiescarborough - thank you again for the help with this!! I hope you like it and still want to read it (Even though it took me four months to write this)

Ever since Eadrick and Hilda found out she was with child they knew that it would be special. They knew because the pregnancy felt different. Hilda didn't have sickness in the morning and her emotions stayed the same all throughout the months. When they went to the healer of their small village he told them that it was a curse from the Devil. For no women had ever a pregnancy like it, it was unnatural. Eadrick couldn't understand why the healer had the idea that his child could be a curse. How could it be? They tried for so long and never were blessed with one and now that it finally happened they had to hear that it was the Devils work? Hilda had tears running down her face as she stood tall and declared that the healer should feel ashamed. “My child is not made by the Devil but blessed by God!” The healer sneered after them as they exited the small cottage.

Months passed by and the happy pair couldn't wait to see their little boy or girl.They didn't care what the child would be as long as it was healthy. But with the time fleeting and the stomach growing the looks from the people of the village would grow as well and become more and more evil. Word had got out that Hilda supposedly carried the Devils child and with every day that passed Eadrick became more worried for his wife. He knew that he had to protect her and his child, so he did everything to build them a little home in the middle of the forrest surrounding the village.

When Hilda went into labor Eadrick feared for his beloved. The healer refused to help birth 'a cursed child' and they were alone in their small home. Only a fire to help and warm them in the cold winter month. The birth went so fast it was as if it never really happened. And the strangest thing was that Hilda felt not one bit of pain. She was smiling when she pushed and then her child came into the world. Hilda birthed a little girl and Eadrick couldn't help but look at his family with love and adoration. He swore to God that he would do anything, even sin, to protect his family.

She didn't scream when she came into this world. Her big eyes were just looking, searching, for her mother and father. And as soon as her little eyes met the tear filled ones of her father she let out a little laugh that made both her parents cry for joy. Her eyes had the color of light. An almost golden hue that could not be discribed. She was not a curse. She was a blessing. They decided to name her (Y/N). The little girl with sunshine in her eyes.

_______________________________________________________________________

Ivar wobbled through the streets of York with eyes in search for any small thing he could have missed. He had to make sure that everything was in order and that nothing would go wrong. The smoke from the burned up rats and rotten meat made it hard to examine the traps but he managed. More annoying was the smell. He had to swallow back his already eaten food to not vomit all over the street at some points. That would not be a good look for the ruler of the Heathen Army. But that also was something he managed. Ivar sent Hvitserk away to survey the catacombs under York after his big brother questioned his plan. Idiot. As if he didn't build everything in his head to a point and thought about how everything could turn out. Of course he had a plan. A plan that would soon be taken into action, for as the Saxons were on their way to take back York. With an almost malicious smile Ivar made his last round around the outer ring of the city. Oh yes, the Saxons would come soon and think that death took all the heathens away. But they would be met with nothing but death for themselves.

Hvitserk cursed his younger brother. He knew very well that Ivar was not an idiot and had a plan. He just wanted to be included. Not be left out and always chasing answers and responsibility. Not unlike with Ubbe. But now he kind of wished that his brother would have given him another order. And not running around the dirt and rat infested tunnels that stretched out under this Christian city. He didn't really know for what he, and the other worriers that went down with him, should be looking for, but he guessed that if he found something suspicious or wrong he would see and know.

After walking through the foul-smelling tunnels for hours, Hvitserk was about to call it quits and wanted to go back up the ladder when he caught something in the corner of his eye. It was a door. A rotten door with huge metal bolts that looked like it would bust with one small push and fall out of its hinges. He walked closer to it, intrigued to find something after hours of nothing. The wood on the door felt rough to his touch making him think that it was not used often. When he tried to open it though it wouldn't give. It stayed shut and only then did he see the whole for a key.

'You're not the first thing that wanted to stay untouched but I always got my way.' He thought with a mischievous smirk as he thought about some of his past conquests. When he slammed his body for the third time against the door, with running start, and it's still not budging he grew irritated. The wood definitely being more robust then it appeared. What the hel was behind this door that needed to be so protected? After one last push something in that room moved. Hvitserk could hear it. Almost like a hound. Whimpering and shuffling as if to get away. Why would the Saxon leave an animal locked in these dark tunnels?

His thoughts were broken up by the sound of running feet and people flooding the tunnels. The time has come. The Saxons were here. With one last glance to the door Hvitserk made his way back to the entrance where he was supposed to meet up with Ivar. As he rounded the corner he saw how his little brother was being hoisted down and someone was already waiting with his crutch on the ground.

_______________________________________________________________________

The Saxons entered the city. Empty of all beings except the rats that crawled over the muddy grounds. Why were the rats on the ground? The Bishop looked at the small rodents with uncertainty. It was not common for rats to run this free around people. Soon the cheers of the soldiers were washing his worry to the back of his head. Bells were ringing and people celebrating; they have defeated the Vikings.

But while the rats ran free on the ground the tunnels swarmed with Viking warriors lusting for blood. Ivar did it again. He came up with a plan that fooled his opponent and would guarantee his success. He looked up through the manhole to the feet of soldiers walking over him unbeknown to the threat underneath their them.

Hvitserk arrived and made his way over to his little brother. The two Ragnarsons met eyes and in both radiated the intend and want to kill and mark the streets of York with the blood of the Christians. In the back of Hvitserks head the thought of the mysterious door and animal surfaced for a split second, he would go back there and try to open it when the battle is won. With a little shake of his head to get back to now he heard the Saxons cheer for their victory.

Ivar and Hvitserk met eyes again, both smiling like two mad men. Anticipation running through their veins at the thought of finally running their sword and axes through bodies and bones. And with a small turn from his body Ivar watched his warriors, everyone at the soles of their feet to start, threw is right hand in the air and ladders were pulled up. Everyone had to be silent.

As the first men stepped through the opening, Ivar and Hvitserk letting out roars of battle, the Saxons had to realize that they made a huge mistake.

Cheers turned to screams of shock and the streets turned red with blood and gore.

The Heathens were not dead but they brought it with them.

_______________________________________________________________________

The battle was done. The bishop in chains and Ivar was basking in his win. Heahmund thought he was looking in the eyes of the devil when he saw the crawling figure coming closer and closer to him. Chuckling like a demon. While he relished in the humiliation of the Christian, his brother was distracted by something else. In the back of the church were two dogs that fought over a bone, it seams that ever creature was fighting on this day. But the display and sounds brought back a memory to Hvitserks mind. The animal in the tunnels.

He went out of the building without a word in search of a bigger ax. His brother not even realizing he left. When Hvitserk made his way back into the tunnels he had a harder time finding the mysterious door again. The shine of the torch not being light enough for him to see everything. With his luck we would get lost. But the gods were on his side and after he ran into a dead end for the fifth time he found it. 'You're done'

His shoulder hurt after the battle. One Saxon having brought their sword down further then Hvitserk could reflect with his. The dried up blood was still on his clothes. It seamed to open up again as warm liquid trailed down his arm in small droplets. But he didn't care. He needed to know what exactly was behind this stupidly, hard to open door. With a final blow of the ax the wood splintered away and gave sight into the room.

It was dark and the smell of sick and rotten flesh made its way into his nose. It was worse then when they burned flesh for the plan. Even with his torch he couldn't see inside so he made his way back a little and began to bring the ax back to the hole he created. More and more wood split away and after only four more hits he could fit through. Of course it was probably not the best idea to go blindly into a locked room but his curiosity won over common sense.

At first he didn't see anything. No animal running towards him. No treasure or anything being stored in this room. All his eyes were met was stone walls that were covered with vines and mold, water running down in small streams down the sides and puddles of old and dried up blood littering the floor. This was not a room for save keeping. No this looked like a cell if he ever seen one. He turned around and was about to climb back through the door when a sound made his body freeze.

It was the same thing. The small whining of a broken animal. Barley there but in the silent room it appeared to echo from everywhere. He turned around and really searched every corner and halted when his eyes came on a small bundle of brown fabric. Fabric that moved in a feeble attempted to get away from the viking. He took a step closer, cautious as to not scare it even more. He didn't even know what lied before him until two golden eyes looked back at him with so much despair he faltered in his step.

It was a girl. A small, sickly Saxon girl that, by the looks of it, was trapped in this cell for only the gods knew how long. She trembled and flinched and even though he didn't move closer she tried to get away even more. But her body seemed to gave up on her. All throughout her weak attempted to escape the threat they held eye contact until the gold vanished and she collapsed on the ground.

'What in the name of Odin?'

Hvitserk ran up to the girl and up on a closer look saw that her hands and feet were shackled to the walls. Her wrist scraped raw and red. Ankles crusted over with old blood.

Unbeknown to Hvitserk the closer he got to the girl the less his shoulder bled and hurt. But with the situation a little bit more severe he just simply couldn't focus on it. He blamed it on his new discovery and excitement and moved on. With his ax he had little effort with the chains that weighted more then the girl herself, picked her up over his shoulder and made his way back to the church. He couldn't wait for his brothers reaction of his find.

Ivar was getting impatient. Sitting on the table at end of the hall he wondered where his brother was. A small feast was being held to celebrate the defeat of the Christians. He wanted to talk to him about the bishop and then rub it in his face a little that his plan worked. The rumble of conversations died down a little with the sound of opening doors and people made room for whoever entered the hall. By now Ivar could see that ,finally, his brother came. But what he nor anyone expected was the sleeping girl in his arms. What was going on?

With each step from his brother Ivar felt something change inside his body. He couldn't put it into words but there was a force spreading from his chest to his legs. Hvitserk went to the middle of the room and laid the girl on the floor right to his feet. Ivar's eyes widened, breath stuck inside his lungs. Could it be? He didn't feel like this since he was just a little boy. He only remembered that once he had felt it because his beloved mother told him. With a start so abrupt he made everyone in the room look at him he lowered his body to the ground.

Hvitserk looked at his little brother who crawled over the unconscious Saxon girl. Faster then he ever crawled. As if she was the only thing that would keep him alive, that she was the last drop of water for a dying man. His whole body covered hers and he was only breaths away from her. The look on his face was a fuse of shock, astounding, revelation and skepticism. But also, if you were close enough, fear. He looked as if the biggest treasure lay under him. The other vikings in the room stopped at what they were doing and observed what their leader would do. No one said a word. There wasn't even the sound of a single breath. Ivar's eyes didn't even blink as he slowly graced her face with his bloodied hand. Leaving a small trail of blood on her cold face. Who was this girl?

“Ivar, what it is? What are you doing?”

Ivar could only vaguely hear his big brothers words. But they came through the haze he was trapped in and with a small voice, so quiet Hvitserk had to lean closer to the two bodies lying on the ground to even hear him, he said:

“I don't feel any pain in my legs.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading and let me know what you think about this. I have an idea for a little series with this.

Hope everyone has an awesome day!

#history vikings #vikings #vikings ivar #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar imagine #ivar x y/n #my work #ivar fanfic

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duffs-shot-glass · 3 years

Text

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙉𝙀𝙍𝙎- 𝐒𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐇𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧 {𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬}

(𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐘/𝐍. 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 ��𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞. 𝐀 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫? (𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐘/𝐍 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡'𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥) (𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) *𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝*)

~part one~

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖔

I tried talking to Slash after class, but he just ignored me. This is already a pain in the ass. As much as I tried to pay attention to the rest of my classes I couldn’t get Slash out of my mind. I have to work with him for the next two weeks. Finally, I decided that I would talk to him at lunch. He usually sits with me and the boys so I should be able to talk to him about it. Just as I thought, he sat with us at lunch. “So um Slash?” All of the boys looked at me partially surprised, partially confused. As I said I never talk to Slash. He liked it that way. Sadly. He rolled his eyes and sighed, “Yes?” The annoyance in his voice was very apparent. “When do you wanna um work on the science project?” Slash looked up at me, smiled, and started laughing evily. I felt stupid. Why is he laughing at me? “You really think I’m working on that thing with you? I’d rather die.” Then Duff slapped him in the back of the head. “What the fuck?” He whisper-yelled. Slash turned his gaze back to me. “Listen Y/N, you’re doing this. Alone. Without me.” I looked down and started messing with the hem of my shirt. I was embarrassed to say the least. “Yeah uh..alright.” That’s when Slash stood up and walked to another table. I felt like crying for some reason. He would rather die than spend time with me. Wow. I looked up to see a very annoyed Axl staring at me. “Why did you do that?” My eyes must have gone wide at his comment. “Me? What did I do? You heard what he sa-” Axl cut me off, “You can’t just let him boss you around like that. Are you doing anything after school?” I looked down, “No.” “Okay. Meet me outside by the big tree at door 5.” I nodded my head in approval, and that’s when the bell rang. The rest of the day didn’t go that great. I went to the bathroom for half an hour in one class, just to cry. Why am I crying? What kind of person sits in a bathroom stall and cries for half an hour? The only logical reason I could come up with was Slash and what he said. I liked Slash from the first day I met him, but he didn’t feel the same. The only person that knew about it was Axl. Axl was the person I could go to in the middle of the night when I was feeling bad about something. I couldn’t lie, it was usually Saul I was crying about. I would complain that I didn’t understand why he hated me or that I just wish he liked me more. Axl always calmed me down and told me everything would be okay. He was an amazing friend. I did as Axl said after school and met him at the tree by door 5. He was sitting there waiting for me. When I made my way over to the tree Axl stood up and walked towards me. “So you’re partners with Slash huh?” That was fast. “Uh yeah.” He nodded his head slowly. We began walking together even though I didn’t know where we were going. “Listen Ax if you’re trying to help me then that’s very nice of you, but you heard him. He would rather die than work with me.” I felt the sudden gut wrenching feeling of sadness once again. “You really believe that?! Listen Y/N, I know you don’t believe this, but Slash really likes you.” “Yeah yeah whatever Axl.” We stopped walking and sat on a park bench that was nearby. “ Listen I have a plan and trust me, Slash is gonna want to be partners with you after this.” The devious look in his eye was no comfort to me at all. “What the hell are you talking about Ax?” Axl laughed quietly at my curiosity. “There is a party tomorrow night at Duff’s house.” I furrowed my brows, “Duff’s house? What about his parents?” He nodded his head no as he spoke, “They’re gonna be out of the house all week.” My lips formed an ‘oh’ and I nodded my head. “Basically this is what’s gonna happen. You are gonna come to the party,” I put my hand up in an effort to stop him from speaking. “No Axl. You know that I don’t go to parties! My parents would kill me. Plus how am I even supposed to get out of the house? My parents would never let me go.” Axl laughed once again. “Sneak out.” He shrugged his shoulders. He said the words as if it was no big deal. Well it’s probably not a big deal to him. “Well ok but why would I even go?”

Axl smiled at me. “Ok so this is the plan. You come to the party looking like a complete badass. I’m gonna have one of the guys talk to Slash about you. Like tell him all this shit-” I cut Axl off again. “What do you mean by ‘All this shit’?” Axl rolled his eyes, “I don’t know Y/N. Just like saying you look good and shit. Anyways, hopefully Slash will see you and want to talk to you. Then if I know Slash, which I think I do, he will try to go out with you. That’s when you have to be a bitch.” “Excuse me?!” We both began laughing. “No, basically you just play hard to get. Tell him the only way you’re gonna go on a date with him is if he helps you with the project.” I felt weird about the entire thing. “Axl I don’t know. Look at us right now. I mean we are acting like we are fucking ten years old! You can’t just make a stupid plan like that and expect everything to go as planned.” Axl smiled at me, “You have a better idea sweetheart?” I looked at the ground. “No” “Good. Now let’s go see which one of the guys wants to talk about you at the party.” I gasped and lightly punched Axl on the arm, “What the hell Axl?!” He, on the other hand, thought it was hilarious.

[...]

“None of the guys are gonna do it.” I said as we walked into Izzy’s house. “They will.” Axl opened the door to Izzy’s room and we both walked inside. Duff, Izzy, and Steven were all sitting on the floor, conversating about something. I sat next to Duff and watched as Axl began speaking. “Alright guys, which one of you is gonna talk to Slash about how sexy Y/N looks?” All three men looked at Axl blankly before laughing. “What the hell are you talking about?” Izzy was first to speak. “Remember that plan I told y’all about?” My head shot up and I looked at Axl. “You told them the whole plan?!” Axl didn’t answer the question, instead he kept talking. “Well which one of you is gonna talk to Slash? Ya know brag about her?” Duff looked at Axl and smiled. “Why can’t you do it?” Axl glared at Duff. “Cuz I made the plan smart ass.” Izzy and Duff looked at each other at the same time. In unison they both said, “Not me.” Axl looked over at Steven. “Alright Steven you have to tell Slash about how hot Y/N is.” I threw my hands in the air, “Will you stop saying that?” Axl laughed slightly and turned his gaze back to Steven. “I don’t know Axl.” Steven looked at me then back at Axl. My shoulders dropped slightly, “It’s alright Stevie. I don’t need someone to talk good about me to get a guy’s attention.” All the boys looked at me with a surprised look on their faces. “You mean you’re gonna-” I cut Izzy off, “Yes Iz. I’m gonna be a tease” Izzy smiled, “Not what I was gonna say but alright.” I smiled at the boys then turned to Axl. “What time is the party?”

#gnr #gnr fic #gnr imagine #gnr x reader #slash x reader #slash #saul hudson #guns n roses #slash imagine #saul hudson imagine #classic rock imagine #80's #rock n roll #saul hudson x reader #guns n roses imagines #axl rose #duff mckagan #izzy stradlin #steven adler

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restlessfandoming · 4 years

Text

“bloodlust” (childehood: tartaglia’s origins—a oneshot about childe’s past)

[SLIGHT SPOILERS FROM 1.1 STORY QUESTS]

so. those story quests completely revamped my psychology of childe.

before i can return to writing chilumi, i gotta process that. welcome to my mind trying to process what made him so. . .bloodthirsty. . .

here’s my take on why hes like. . .that.

[Fic Masterlist]

TW: violence. blood. death. it’s some dark shit y’all.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A snowflake landed on a little boy’s eyelid, and he jolted awake, muscles tensed to strike. His ice blue eyes darted around the alleyway. Another flurry landed on his cheek.

“Just the snow,” he muttered. Beside him, his siblings snored on. Anthon, Tonia, Teucer. He counted the brownish-ginger heads quietly. Good, they’re all still here and accounted for.

His name was Tartaglia, oldest of the four children—and as the oldest, he was their caretaker, their guardian.

It had been months since their parents were taken from them. A once wealthy and whole family, fractured by a robbery gone wrong.

Greed. He thought angrily, gripping a single Mora, its edges digging into his skin. The greed of man took his parents from him.

Tartaglia vividly remembered the violent clashing of weapons, running down the stairs of his bedroom, seeing his mother and father trying to fight off groups of masked men. They screamed, desperately, for him to run—run as far as he could—and to take his little brothers and sister with him.

As they were yelling at him, one of the masked men swung his axe. They saw it too late.

It slashed through both his parents, and with wide eyes, Tartaglia watched as the blood spewed from their guts. He thought he felt some droplets hit his face, like the mist from the spray of a crimson ocean.

His parents crumpled, lying lifelessly on the floor, their insides spilling out in a pool around them.

Red. That’s all he could see.

Red. And he knew his parents were gone, forever.

Red. He couldn’t save them.

The men turned towards him. And he ran, faster than he had in his entire little life. He gathered his siblings—Anthon groggily rubbing his eyes, Tonia shivering, and baby Teucer crying—and dragged them through the cold, cold snow, away from their warm home. They trudged through the thick blanket of snow; Tonia was certain their feet were going to fall off.

But they never looked back—Tartaglia didn’t let them.

He told them their parents went away in the night. Travelling abroad, he said; it was so sudden, an emergency, they couldn’t take any of them. Anthon was angry, Tonia started crying—fat sobs with rivers of tears—and Teucer just kept wailing and wailing.

That night was the first night Tartaglia stole. He broke into a clothing shop, grabbing all he could to protect him and his siblings against the harsh Snezhnayan winter.

He learned to steal, to fight, to survive for him and his siblings. But he would never let them see. He would tell them to wait for him in an alleyway, in the woods, somewhere far where they wouldn’t see him doing what he needed to do. He would do the crime, wipe away the sin, and return to his family, an aloof smile plastered on his face.

After witnessing what happened to their parents, he vowed to never let them see bloodshed. No, they wouldn’t see the violent language between adults in this cruel, unforgiving world. They would believe in fairytales, gods, and the good of people.

Only he, Tartaglia, would have the burden of blood on his hands.

………………….

Late one night, Tartaglia slinked around the alleyways, searching for another store to break into. He realized that they couldn’t live on the streets forever, and to get a home, one needed Mora. No longer was he stealing just food and clothing; he stole any Mora he could come across.

Mora...tiny golden circles that make the world go ‘round. The aftertaste of greed was bitter. But he needed the money. For Anthon. Tonia. Teucer.

He repeated their names, over and over, as he broke off the latch of a store. As he stepped into the place, his nose filled with the scent of raw meat. A butcher’s…

He headed towards the back, where most shopkeepers kept their Mora. After searching through several boxes, he came across a metal container. Jackpot.

He picked it up, tossing it in his bag, hearing the clinks of coins within. He walked past the rows of boar carcasses strung up, actively trying to ignore the steady drips of blood cascading off them. The tinge of iron in the air put him on edge, his nerves jittery.

Before he left, he paused, staring at the butcher’s knife hanging on the wall. He stood on his tip toes, grabbing it off its rack, and weighing it in his hands. Just in case… He took one more look around the shop, then headed out.

“So this is the little thief running around Snezhnaya.”

Tartaglia froze, and turned to face the gruff voice. Standing there were three men, all holding various weapons.

“It’s just a kid,” one of them said, lowering his club.

The one in front glared at him. “Doesn’t matter,” he sneered, brandishing his dagger. “It’s well-known that someone has been stealing from all the stores around here. And we gotta teach ‘em a lesson.”

The third one, a large brute with an axe, nodded silently.

Tartaglia quickly assessed around him. He was against a wall, and the three men were blocking the only exit out of the alleyway. The walls were too steep and unclimbable. Do I just try to dash through them? No, if he tried, they would easily grab him.

He gripped the butcher’s knife, raising it. Only one option left.

The leader laughed maniacally. “What? You’re gonna try to fight us with that?” He mockingly held his hands up. “Tell you what, kid, you give us back all you’ve stolen, and we’ll let you off with only one finger missing—deal?”

“C’mon, man. He’s a kid. Probably doesn’t know better,” the club man interjected again.

“So what? We normally dispose of thieves; I’d say the kid is getting it way too easy.”

“Let’s just kill him,” the axe man spoke finally, his voice stoic. “He probably doesn’t have any family looking after him anyways.”

Anthon. Tonia. Teucer.

I will protect them no matter what.

“Then come at me,” Tartaglia growled, his childlike voice sounding impossibly dark.

The leader smirked. “Okay.”

He lept towards Tartaglia, dagger forward, ready to slash his face. The boy raised his own knife up, catching the edge of the incoming dagger, sending it sliding away from his face. The man’s body followed through with the dagger’s swing, throwing him off balance for a second. And a second was all Tartaglia needed.

He brought the knife up, and swung down with all his might on the man’s shoulder.

The sharpened butcher’s knife carved through the man’s jacket, slicing deeply into the tendon between his shoulder and neck. The man grotesquely cried out in pain, falling to the ground, gripping his arm.

Tartaglia watched the blood spew from the chasm in the man’s shoulder. It ran down to the snow covered ground, staining the clean white snow with red, flowing like water. Weak.

His nerves now seemed to calm at the sight of his defeated opponent in front of him. How odd.

“Shit!” the club man yelled. He raised his weapon. “What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

Tartaglia tossed the clunky butcher’s knife aside, picking up the dagger from the floor as its original owner began passing out in a puddle of his own blood. It felt a lot better in his hands than the knife.

“Just kill him.” Axe man started charging towards Tartaglia, his axe held in front of him, attempting to ram the boy into the wall.

Too slow. Tartaglia’s small, lithe form easily jumped over the axe. He ran up the handle, ready to stab the man in his face.

Axe man was faster than expected. He grabbed the child’s neck, holding him at a distance.

Tartaglia gasped for air, the man’s brute force slowly crushing his windpipe.

“You’re fast, but you’re not strong enough,” he said.

Not...strong...enough… The boy desperately tried slashing at the man’s arms and hands, but the dagger’s wounds were mere scrapes to him.

As the air trickled from his lungs, the edges of his vision filled with red.

Red. That’s all he could see.

Red. He was about to be gone, forever.

Red. He had to save his siblings.

With one last gasp of air, he threw all his strength into a final stab at the axe man’s arms.

The dagger sank into flesh, and light erupted around Tartaglia. Miraculously, he was released from the death grip, and fell to the floor, coughing desperately.

When his sight returned, there was something blue glowing in the snow. He crawled towards it, scooping it up in his hands.

A relic with a iridescent blue gemstone in the middle. The symbol of the Hydro element engraved on the surface. It was a vision.

He had only heard of these through fairytales and talk in the streets. Power granted to mortals from a god. And now? It was granted to him.

He felt renewed energy surge through his body. He looked up at the night sky. Thank you.

“Die!” Both the remaining men were charging towards him. He pocketed the vision.

Feeling a weight in his hands, he held them out. Before his eyes, water shifted, forming a spear in front of him.

He readied his weapon, and as the men descended on him, he heard the WHOOSH of rushing water. He slashed one-Two-THREE times.

The men dropped to the floor with a thud.

Tartaglia’s weapon vanished. And the energy from his body expelled. He dropped to his knees, exhausted, then passed out in the snow.

When he awoke, he was still surrounded by the bodies.

He knew he had been gone for a long time, longer than usual; his siblings were probably worried about where he was. He quickly left the scene, running back to the woods where he, Anthon, Tonia, and Teucer were staying currently.

And as always, he washed away the blood, and replaced it with a smile.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Years later, he was still fighting, becoming stronger and stronger—becoming an infamously feared figure in Snezhnaya.

He remembered the day the Tsaritsa approached him.

Hearing his name being whispered around the land, she knew she had to seek him out. She wanted him to join her elite force: the Fatui Harbingers.

She promised him all the riches he could imagine, enough riches for him and his siblings ten times over. That was enough to make him agree.

For Anthon. Tonia. Teucer.

Secretly, he was excited as well. Something within him relished at the fact he was now a part of his country’s most powerful soldiers.

Because he remembered that day, the first day he took the lives of men—took their lives just like how his parents’ lives were taken from him. Except no longer would he be unable to move as blood was spilt.

He remembered looking at the men’s dead bodies. All cut open. All flowing with that red, red blood.

Because of him.

Because he was strong enough.

He smiled.

#genshin impact #genshin childe #childe #genshin tartaglia #tartaglia #fanfic #me

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Text

A new us will begin (2/ 11)

word count: 2k

AO3

part 1 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

cw: Major Character Death, child death, blood, injuries

Jules didn’t know what witchers were. He was too young to understand and no one had ever answered his questions when he had asked about them. They must be something truly awe-inspiring if even the adults couldn’t find the words to talk about them. Jules would have found the words, he was sure of that. He knew a lot of words and he loved using them.

The adults always told him that he talked too much. Except for his Ma. She always called him her little bard.

Jules didn’t know what a bard was either, but he liked the word. It sounded like adventure and heroes and maidens being saved, like in his stories. Jules was sure bards didn’t have to go to bed when their parents told them too. They probably got to play all day long.

And most importantly, bards probably weren’t scared of the monster in the woods.

No one had told him what it was or that it was even there, but Jules was clever; he had listened in when his parents whispered about it and he had figured out all by himself why his parents didn’t want him to play in the woods anymore. But he didn’t tell his parents that he knew.

He was too young to understand, they said and it was too scary for him. That’s why they didn’t tell him about it. They never told him anything. But Jules wanted to know, know, know! He wanted to know everything. He wanted to see everything.

A bard probably got to do that. A bard wouldn’t listen to his parents when they told him to stay away from the woods. When the adults kept secrets, a bard would find out the truth himself.

So that’s what Jules did. When it was dark, he snuck out of their small house, careful not to make any noise. It was hard. The nervousness made him giggle, but he was a bard and bards must be good at being quiet and secretive so he had to try and be good at that too.

When he had made it outside, he threw one last look at the house, holding his breath and expecting that any moment the door would open and his parents would shout at him to come back inside.

The door stayed shut. A wide grin spread across Jules’ lips and he had to press his hand against his mouth to stop the excited noise from escaping.

Then he ran to the woods. They looked scarier than they did during the day. Jules often came here to play. He knew these woods. He couldn’t get lost in there. It didn’t matter that it was dark and everything looked different at night. He was his Ma’s little bard. Bards didn’t get lost.

And somehow Jules knew he was safe. He knew that no matter what, there would always be someone there to pull him out of danger by the scruff.

There’s a snap behind him.

The monster!

The boy turned around, grabbed a stick from the ground and held it in front of him like a sword. His heart was racing like the sheep he sometimes chased around, pretending they were all horses galloping together. But this wasn’t fun. This was a monster. One so scary that his parents didn’t even talk about it.

“I’m not scared!” He shouted into the darkness, waving his stick around like a brave knight.

The snapping came closer, the sound of frantic steps running towards him. Then the bushes in front of him parted. But there was no monster. It was his Ma.

“Jules!” She fell to her knees before him, taking him into her arms and holding him as close as possible. “Don’t ever run away again. Don’t ever scare me like that.”

“But I- I wanted to find the monster. It scares you and I need to protect you.”

His Ma made a choked sound. She pulled back and cupped his cheeks in her hands, looking at him seriously. It made Jules feel important, like an adult. Adults always looked at each other seriously. Bards must be serious too, so he returned the look as best he could.

“Jules, listen to me. You can never go search for monsters.” She waited until Jules nodded. “There was a witcher in town today. The White Wolf. Your Pa went to tell him to come quickly. He will take care of the monster for us, alright?”

She stood back up and held her hand out. Jules took it. Right in that moment, thunder roared through the woods. Jules frowned. There hadn’t been thunder when he had left. He had been pretty sure there were no clouds or he would have taken his coat with him.

“Ma?”

“Quiet, darling,” she hissed, her face twisting into a terrified grimace. Her grip on Jules’ hand got tighter.

“What is it, Ma? Why is there-“

Something rustled in the bushes. Jules couldn’t really see it in the dark, but something big came closer. Something with teeth as long as his arm and craws as sharp as the axe his Pa sometimes used to cut down trees. And the eyes glowed yellow.

Jules was frozen to the spot as he held the thing’s gaze. The eyes looked wrong. Yellow was a nice colour. Yellow eyes should be beautiful, but these one just looked ugly and dangerous.

Jules’ head tilted to the side, like a bird or a dog and he took a step forward. At least he tried to. As soon as he moved, his mother let out a short cry and grabbed him around the middle, yanking him back. The ground disappeared from under him as his Ma lifted him up and ran.

He had never seen his Ma run that fast. She never played tag with him, always told him to stop when he tried to run as fast as a horse, saying that the sheep didn’t like that. But now she ran, carrying Jules who clung to her as tightly as he could so that he wouldn’t fall.

Over her shoulder, he could see yellow eyes and sharp teeth disappear in the shadows. His Ma kept running until suddenly the world tilted again. She let out a sharp cry and Jules fell to the ground with her, rolling a little away from her. Quickly, he scrambled back to his feet.

“Ma?”

“I’m alright darling.” She smiled.

Adults never told Jules anything. He knew how to see when they lied. And his Ma was lying to him right now. She wasn’t alright. Her smile looked like the faces Jules sometimes pulled when he had to eat something gross and her leg looked the same that his neighbour’s leg had looked when she had fallen out of a tree once. She hadn’t been able to walk for a month then.

“I’m alright,” his Ma repeated as her smile crumbled. “Darling, you have to listen to me. Keep running. You have to get out of here. You have to get back home.”

“You’ll run with me, right?” Jules received no answer, only a choked sob. “Right, Ma?”

“You’ll have to be brave.” Tears streamed down his Ma’s cheeks and she ran a hand through his hair. “You have to be brave for me and tell your Pa what happened. I’ll be fine. Remember the White Wolf I told you about? He’ll save me. I’ll be fine.”

Jules didn’t understand. How could a wolf save his Ma? His Pa had always said that wolves were bad, that they ate his sheep. It didn’t make sense that a wolf would help now, but at least his Ma had told him the truth. It just sounded right. Like the word bard sounded right even if he didn’t know what it meant.

With determination Jules hadn’t known before, he nodded. “I’ll wait with you.”

“No! You can’t stay, you have to-“

He didn’t listen. What he had to do was be brave. He sat down next to his Ma. Even as she kept telling him to go, her arms wrapped around him and cradled him close.

Slowly her urging for him to leave turned into reassurances. Like when he crawled into his parent’s bed after a nightmare.

“The White Wolf will come. We’ll be safe. He’ll come and save us.”

She didn’t have to tell him. He already knew that and somehow it made him feel almost giddy. The White Wolf. It sounded like an adventure, like the kind of stories Jules always made up in his head before bed or when the other children didn’t want to play with him because he only ever wanted to play horses.

He wondered what the White Wolf looked like. He hoped he’d have yellow eyes, like the monster, but better. Yellow eyes would look pretty on a wolf. And for some reason the thought made him feel safe.

Apparently that didn’t work for his Ma. Her comforting voice turned into wordless sobs as the beast appeared again. Jules’ heart sped up when the monster stalked towards them. Slowly, as if it already knew they wouldn’t get away from it.

How stupid it was to think that. How stupid it was not to know that the White Wolf would save them.

The monster growled, Jules’ Ma cried and Jules…Jules began to sing. A lullaby. Just one line, the only line he knew. The one he had invented one night when his parents had fallen back asleep before Jules was convinced that his nightmare wouldn’t come back.

It made his mother smile, just a little. She pulled his head against her chest, so he couldn’t see the monster anymore. He didn’t stop singing.

“I love you,” she whispered into his hair. “You are so brave, my little bard.”

Her voice was cut off without warning by a piercing cry of pain and a terrible monstrous noise that he never wanted to hear again. Her arms tightened around Jules and he could feel something warm and wet drip down onto him. Then her grip went slack, her hands falling away.

Jules didn’t stop singing, even as the claws of the beast plunged into him, flinging him to the side. Sharp pain filled him. Hot fire in his blood. Blood that ran out of his chest. It wasn’t supposed to do that. Jules was sure that the blood was supposed to stay inside him. But it just kept flowing. Like his Ma’s tears, like his song. But his voice became garbled, something wet and gross tasting filling his lungs. He couldn’t sing anymore.

It hurt. It hurt so much and Jules wanted it to stop. Where was the wolf? Why didn’t he stop this? Why didn’t he save them?

He couldn’t see. It wasn’t just the darkness of the night. Something else was happening, something that made his eyes not work anymore. He fought to keep them open, but they fell shut anyway.

Just before his eyelids dropped, he could see the silhouette of a man jumping out of the bushes, a sword in his hand that was gleaming in the moonlight. Jules wished he could see his eyes. He knew with a burning certainty that they would be golden. He must be the witcher. The one who his mother had promised would come.

He looked beautiful, even if Jules couldn’t see much of him. He moved too fast through the shadows. He moved too fast – and he had been too late. He didn’t look like a wolf and he hadn’t protected them.

But even as Jules was filled with burning pain and his limbs became too heavy to move, a thought shot through him and with it came a wave of excitement that almost washed away the pain.

In that moment – his last moment – he knew what he wanted to do with his life. When he grew up, he wanted to go with the witcher. He wanted to sing to him the one line of his favourite song. He wanted to play horses with him.

It was the last thought he ever had before that dreamlike future died with him.

#geraskier #mcd #major character death tw #child death tw #witcher #witcher fic #my writing #fic #reincarnation au #tomorrow I'll have an exam and a presentation and I really shouldn't focus on writing right now #well

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a-smile-hides · 4 years

Text

WARPAINT - I.R.

WARNINGS: long fic, description of battles, blood, wounds, death, some time jumps, I had a bit of a block during this …

This was actually requested, so thank you for that! Sorry for the wait. I kind of got carried away with this. My first draft was not so long, but then I realised I kind of wanted a stronger reader and now… well this happened. Hope you enjoy!! xxx

The request: Hello! I wasn't sure if requests were open or not, but I had this idea were the reader is not a shield maiden and prefers doing other things, and shes not exactly that well-built. Maybe there's an attack on kattagat and she's one of the people who were taken? But she fights her way out and goes back to kattagat when ivar was planning a rescue mission (nobody thinks she could fight) but she can because of some reason in the past and she was forced to? I'm literally just throwing ideas.

---

“Correct me if I am wrong, but the Christians that you just defeated have invited you and your brothers – and only you three – to come to their palace to talk about peace?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelieve. “You honestly can’t believe that Ivar.”

Ivar sighed. His back was turned towards you as he tightened the straps of his gloves.

“Ivar… Do you?”

Ivar threw his head back, looking up to the sky above him. The sky was bright blue. A couple of birds flew over, following the largest one in their group to their next adventure. Behind him a couple of men sat together whispering and pointing at the exchange in front of them, wondering aloud what or who made you qualified to step up and talk to one of their leaders. “Of course not. It is not me who has turned into a fool.”

His words made you bite your lip. Merely a few hours after the army had returned victorious, a petit man dressed in beautiful red robes decorated with golden leaves had fearfully entered the camp. Stuttering and barely looking into anyone’s eyes, the man proclaimed his lord acknowledged their triumph and had asked the three leaders to come to the castle at sunset. In that way they could discuss the outcome of this victory. This lord, the prince of this dying land, clearly did not want to lose any time.

Ubbe, wanting to take this opportunity of peace, had immediately accepted the offer to which the messenger nodded and ran away, looking like a dog with its tail between his legs. Ivar had been furious and confused by his brother’s naïve decision. But he could not ignore the fact that a part of him was curious to what this prince wanted to offer in exchange for “peace”. This soil was rich, and he knew this land held unknown treasures. Its only flaw was the leadership. And so, he wanted to follow his brothers to this castle. Yet, he knew how foolish they would be if they did not bring their most trusted warriors to the castle.

“You are going no matter what I say?” The question came out as a statement. You didn’t need any answer. The silence that followed and the slight second his movements halted were enough. Slowly, he turned around. A sly grin concealed the doubts he had.

“Do I suspect some concern?”

You licked your lips, shifting your weight to one leg. “I am only worried about my place in this camp. You know they don’t like me here, Ivar. Without you, they might come up with something to get rid of me.” You said laughing airily, your head subtlety nodding in the direction of the men behind you whose eyes were still locked on you two. And although you said it with a small grin, your words held a certain truth. And he knew it too.

Ivar nodded his head. “I would like to see them try.” He whispered, narrowing his eyes.

You could hold back you laugh. Ivar pressed his lips together at the sound, hiding his smile as he watched you. And then, the mood changed. That airy, light feeling disappeared. Everything became serious, while the two of you just stared at each other.

“Be careful?” You asked him again. Your voice was small, barely audible.

Ivar looked up at you and extended his hand, mentioning you to come closer. In a few steps you stood in front of him, patiently waiting for his answer. Tenderly, he grabbed your hand. His thumb brushed over your skin, while his other hand followed the curve of your hip. His brilliant blue eyes stared right up at you. The corners of his mouth slightly curled upwards.

Ivar breathed in deeply, leading your hand to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his lips on your hand.

With that you got his silent promise.

***

A fire crackled in the background as the sun began her descent. The dry ground felt cool against your feet. The birds chirped loudly as they flew over the camp. From behind you, you heard someone howl as his friend emptied his cup in one big gulp. The music that was played by some of Sigurd friends amused the crowd. And slowly but surely more and more people joined the drinking game going on around the fire.

The mood was light and happy. Every last man or woman that decided to come along this raid was cheerful because of the recent victory on those pathetic Christians. Ivar had used his tactics and bright mind to conceive a master plan. Ubbe had led them forward with his skills as a warrior and Hvitserk gave the men the support they needed in the middle of the fight. The army, for once, was not big in numbers, but with those three it hardly was necessary.

No one knew who came up with the idea to organize this raid. But not a single soul cared. Since Ragnar’s disappearance, those voyages had been put to a halt and many men and women longed for this opportunity. An opportunity to raid and find treasures and make their families proud. An opportunity to get access to Valhalla.

Now that the three brothers had left to negotiate, the camp had decided to feast. No one was worried for their safety. Even if they had been gone for longer than the few hours they anticipated. The road to the battlefield had been long and tiring. Who knew how far this castle lay?

A fine grin formed on your lips as the sounds filled your ears. With your back turned towards them all as you let your body sway to the rhythm of the music. With both hands you lifted your skirt up, keeping it out of the dust’s range you kicked up as your movements got bigger. The music swelled up and you closed your eyes.

Your mind had been clouded by worries and possible disastrous outcomes for the sons of Ragnar, but now for the very first time since they left, you could let go of those dark thoughts.

Getting lost in the story the tune told you, you did not notice the girl that joined your side. She had come along this raid with her mother, a gifted healer. It was clear she had inherited this knowledge, and therefore wished to accompany her mother on this voyage. Her big eyes were focused on you as she tried her best to imitate your moves. Many times, she almost tripped over her own feet.

With your eyes closed, you kept twirling and dancing to the music. Lost to the world around you and the crowd that watched with amused eyes to the show going on in front of them. Some men catcalled while others were completely obvious to the dance. As the music slowed down, you took a moment to catch your breath. Only now you noticed the people that had their gaze pointed at you.

“Is it true?”

The high voice of the young girl next to you made you snap out of your daze, looking at her with your eyebrow raised.

The young girl grinned; her eyes glimmered with mischief. “Is it true you dance for the brothers like this every evening? They say you do it for Ivar whenever he demands it.”

Her innocent question made you snort; her innocence could not stop the irritation from building up inside of you. It was not the first time someone had asked you this.

Unlike other children, who helped their parents in their line of work, you often hung around the brothers. Acting as a shadow and sneaking up on them. This continued until you came of age, and Hvitserk saw you disappear into the woods with your father. He dragged a heavy cart with him, knives, axes and ropes thrown into it, while you carried a large basket with food in it. At first it did not worry him, but when you did not return for five days, questions arose amongst the brothers. When the day of your return arrived, the men were confused, but happy to see you. Only Ivar had been reluctant, focussing more on the scars and bruises that covered your body. It was only after you had shaken your head at him and asked Sigurd to play your favourite song once again that he warmed up, trying his best to hide his smile as you danced to the music his brother played.

Many wondered why you always danced until your feet got raw. Swaying your hips and twirling around in circles until the sun set in the evening. Many thought it was the effect of plants that you were not supposed to eat or the consequence of your mysterious disappearing in the woods. You learned fast that everything that was not done by most people, was considered odd.

This could be the reason why the youngest prince let you walk beside him. He too was considered as someone odd, someone unusual. Although you were not a shieldmaiden, nor a woman with a famous background, a connection was shared.

Ivar often said to be irritated by your presence and loudly proclaimed that when he was around his brothers. He would hide his smile, only giving it when he knew no one else was around. Sometimes he would utter out a sneaky comment as you passed them, making Hvitserk snicker and Sigurd roll his eyes. Yet never would he allow another to say those out loud. The ones who dared to mock you in his presence usually ended up with a nasty cut on their forehead.

“Y/N, you’re ignoring my question.” The healer’s daughter sang out.

This time you laughed out heartily. “People believe what they want to believe. I must say that I don’t know wh-“

Your voice died as you looked to your left, where the road lay on which Ivar, Ubbe and Hvitserk had departed. Appearing at the horizon was a horse, soon followed by four others. Their riders hitting the animals to make them run faster. Squinting your eyes at the moving figures, you saw how each of them seemed to be shouting, one even raising their sword high in the air. The metal reflected some of the sunlight and made turn your head. The sight only made your heart miss a beat. Behind you, although hard to see due to the evening sun, you could make out the silhouettes of the men that slowly stepped out of the woods.

The girl beside you noticed your worried gaze and followed it to the tree line. Her cheeky smile disappeared immediately once she too noticed the men storming at your camp. All of them carrying various weapons.

The young girl screamed out, making the musicians stop playing and everyone look up. Frightened the girl ran in the direction of her mother’s tent, while you shouted out at the top of your lungs.

“Ambush!”

***

“Does he really think he can bribe us with a bit of land, now?”

Ivar’s soft but menacing words made every Christian man in the large palace room look up alarmed. They did not know what he was saying, because suddenly he had changed to his own language, but his tone had changed drastically. During this whole ordeal, the young man had not spoken much. Only asking a couple of questions on a light and airy tone. Now it seemed as if his patience had reached its end.

“Do not forget that we are in another country, Ivar”

“Ubbe, this kingdom is dying. You are the one forgetting we destroyed them on the battlefield. We should just raid and move on. Maybe we can send word to our home. To little Sigurd. He could stand in as our man here?” He grinned, “Then at least he does something useful.”

Hvitserk lowered his head as Ubbe sighed out.

The prince coughed, snapping the men out of their argument. This man, the only living member of the royal family, had been sitting on his throne uncomfortably ever since the Viking brothers had arrived. He had invited them over in hopes of finding a truce. Some form of agreement so that he and every last resident in his land could come out of this alive. But so far, none of his offers had pleased all the brothers.

“We could take the land, Ivar. The best that is out there. We can demand it from him.” Hvitserk urged, a wide grin on his face. Ubbe nodded at him, patting him on the back. The prince grinned at the interaction.

Ivar rolled his eyes. Something did not feel right. The land was theirs to take. This prince knew it too. He did not get why his brothers suddenly became too soft to continue.

Ivar’s suspicion only grew when a slim man dressed in the same red and golden robes as the messenger that directed them here entered the room. His gaze was only pointed at his lord, trying his best to avoid the heathens that he feared. Bowing for a second, the man stepped forward. He opened his mouth, but then closed it as he finally locked eyes with the three men sitting in front of him. Those heathens knew his language. Leaning forward, he quickly whispered something in the prince’s ear which made him sit up straight. The prince nodded his head at his messenger, thanking him and letting him leave.

For the first time, he stepped off his throne and walked towards the three brothers. He took a moment, nodding to himself as if he were encouraging himself to continue. “Good news, my informant just told me the council has agreed to come together and talk about this arrangement.” The prince stretched his arms out wide, a hopeful smile on his face. Ubbe and Hvitserk nodded their head at him, while Ivar looked away. “This all on the condition that you spare the people and myself and do not attempt another attack on my kingdom.”

***

Blood covered the dusty ground as the large group of men fought their way through the camp. Each of them entering the tents to drag the ones that tried to hide in them outside, claiming their most valuable belongings as their own. Laughing wickedly, each of them left the tent ravished behind them, setting them on fire once all the goods had been taken out of it. Women thrashed around in their holds as men of different ages fought bravely against the marching forces.

It became clear very early that this was a planned attack. A strategical set in a game of vengeance. The clearing had been chosen carefully by the three brothers. It was large enough so anyone who had joined this raiding party could place their tent where they wanted to. It provided a good view on any upcoming forces. And enough scouts were present in the forest, carefully placed there to warn everyone if an attack may happen.

And yet, no signal was sent. Those Christian men snuck up on the camp as if someone had opened the door for them.

As you hid in the tent, you watched with sorrowful eyes how the girl that admired you earlier sat beside her mother. Her little body shook in fear, while tears kept rolling over her rosy cheeks. In the chaos of the attack, you had pulled them with you inside a tent. Your hideout was fragile. Nothing more than a piece of cloth. But at least it was something. A place to think of a better plan.

Two shieldmaidens had followed you inside. One tried her best to look outside, while the other tried to mend her broken bow.

Outside, the screams of anguish and the shouts of war became less prominent, making you think the Christian forces were retreating or at least, that the fight was ending. The shieldmaiden at the opening of the tent seemed to share your thoughts, lifting her hand in a silent demand for the girl to calm down.

Her brows were furrowed as she slowly pushed away the material that closed your hideout. Her eyes scanned the area, but seemed not to find any enemy.

“I can’t see anyone. We cannot stay here. The girl will betray us with her cries.” She whispered out. Her eyes going from her fellow shieldmaiden to the mother.

“She is a child!” The woman whisper-shouted, pressing her whimpering daughter against her chest.

“If she is a child than why is she even here?” The other shieldmaiden snapped back. “The camp is not a sacred place free of any harm.”

The mother scowled at the woman, running her hand over her daughter’s head in a comforting way. “I’ve come along raids many times. Not once have I-“

Her angry words were silenced by the gasp her daughter lets out. Frightened for the safety of her girl, the women grabbed her tightly. But her daughter had not been harmed. Her finger shakily pointed forward as her eyes filled themselves with tears.

The shieldmaiden that was looking out the tent, lay now dead on the floor. Her throat pierced by an arrow.

“Audhilde” Her fellow shieldmaiden whispered out, her hands clenched into fists. Without thinking you jumped up, grabbing the axe the fallen shieldmaiden had taken with her.

In the moment it took you to grab the axe, a second arrow entered the tent, missing you by an inch. The feeling of the arrow zooming past your face made you choke on your breath. Looking to the left you saw two men fight with each other, one of them holding a crossbow in his hands.

Sniffing, the other shieldmaiden took a seat next to you. Her eyes were clouded by the anger rising inside of her. With harsh movements, she lined up her arrow.

“What are you playing at?” She hissed, as you held her back.

Remaining silent, you stared straight into the fiery eyes of the shieldmaiden next to you, while your hand kept pushing the bow down. The woman in front of you frowned, opening her mouth, but was silenced when you placed your finger on your lip. Slowly, you crawled backwards, pulling the woman with you to hide behind the fabric.

Nodding your head towards the small mirror that was placed on the box next to the healer and her child, you made the shieldmaiden aware of the danger right outside the tent. In the reflection you could make out a man. He walked hastily around the tent in front of your hideout, before deciding that the one on its right was the one he needed. A second soldier joined him, and together they entered the tent.

You tilted your head, frowning at their odd behaviour. As you took a better look at them, your confusion only grew. They seemed to be in a rush. As if they were the ones being hunted, as if they were struck with fear and wanted this to end as fast as possible.

The shieldmaiden next to you grew tired of waiting inside the tent. Waiting was just the same as giving up, she thought. Pushing you aside, she took a seat next to the entrance. With the tip of her arrow she carefully pulled back the material of the tent, giving herself more room to get a good look at the outside world.

“Why haven’t they burned ours yet?” You wondered out loud.

The shieldmaiden snorted, looking over her shoulder briefly. “Why should I care?”

“Look around you. They are not walking around as men that believe in their cause. Only a few seem proud to fight for their lord. We are losing this. We are being slaughtered. And still, most of them seem so scared of what may come after them…”

Your words made the woman in front of you think for a second, before she shook her head and lined up her arrow once more.

“Try to get out as fast as you can. Run to the forest. Take ‘whiny’ and her mother with you. I will take care of those fuckers outside.” She groaned, before she shot her first arrow and launched herself out of the tent.

The shake of your head went not unnoticed by the mother, who looked at you confused. Her insides boiling with anger due to the shieldmaiden abandoning her and her only child in the middles of an ambush with a woman who seemed unfit to protect them.

“Pure suicide. This is going way too fast. Attacking now that the three brothers are not here ...” You mumbled out. The words coming out fast and quiet, crumbling the little hope the woman had. Not only did that shieldmaiden leave her alone with a seemingly unfit person, but now that person was mad too. “They planned this all!”

The conclusion made you snap back to the reality around you. The frightened girl shaking in her mother’s arms, the sounds of swords clashing just outside your tent, yells of terror in the distance. You looked down, the axe lying comfortably in your hand. With a small nod to the mother you told her to get up. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet, lifting her daughter up. Her eyes immediately went to the entrance of the tent, but you held her back.

“Go out there and you’ll die.”

The words made her halt. She wanted to scream back at you, but the confident glare on your face made her bite her tongue. “Where do we go then?”

Not answering her, you stepped forward slightly, bending down to get a look of the frightening world outside the tent. Outside the shieldmaiden who had carelessly run out of her hideout was fighting against one of the soldiers. Her face was covered in the blood of her opponents. Skilfully, she kept the man at bay with a sword she had taken from the ground. But beyond her knowing, a second man slowly made his way towards them. The grin on his face was vicious. He was one of the few who enjoyed this all. Collecting all of your power to restrain yourself, you watched how he snuck up on the shieldmaiden and sliced her shoulder with his sword. Turning around before you saw her end, you tried to see if you could find another way to escape.

There was no way you could fight your way out of here. Even if you wanted to, the possibility of stepping outside this tent and be met with the same fate as that woman was too high. Nevertheless, staying in this tent was no option either.

Blinking at the weapon in your hand, an idea struck you. Without hesitation you walked straight towards the back of the tent, followed by the mother and her daughter. With brute force, your pushed away everything that kept you from reaching the fabric of the tent. A couple of boxes, the mirror, some candles, they all landed harshly on the ground. The mother watched perplexed as her daughter escaped her grip and helped you. Your lips curved upward as you looked into her eyes. Raising your eyebrows, you lifted up the axe in the air.

“We’re making us a way out of here…”

With the axe, you sliced the fabric of the tent, ripping it apart. Careful not to end up like the death shieldmaiden inside the tent, you opened the gab slowly, searching for any possible foe.

“Everything’s clear. When I say go, run. Run and do not stop until you’re deep into the woods.”

Not waiting for an answer, you walked around the tent, straight towards the boxes you carelessly threw through the tent. There had to be something in here for them to protect themselves with. The mother narrowed her eyes at your plan, the concern for her daughter made her be on edge. But her daughter nodded determined.

You smiled as you stumbled across a knife. Nodding your head at yourself, you walked up to the mother.

Her confusion did not disappear once you presented her with the knife, but without hesitation she took it from you. “How do you know all of this?”

Not containing the sinister laugh that escaped your lips, you grinned back at the mother.

“My dad wished for a son.” You muttered out, raising your eyebrows at her.

Before you could step outside to get one final look, you heard a low chuckle behind you. Turning around, your eyes widened as they made contact with the men that had attacked the shieldmaiden only a few moments ago.

“Three little birds in a cage.”

“Now!”

In a flinch the mother and her daughter ran out of the tent. The young girl screamed and cried while she held the hand of her mother, her tearful eyes glued on you until she disappeared out of your sight.

The man grunted, irritated by their escape. However, he still had one little bird left. Slowly, as a fox sneaking up on his prey, he walked towards you. Confident in his skills. You licked your lips. Chuckling, the man took a step forward, the sword in his hand raised high above his head. Without thinking, you ducked underneath his swing, sidestepping to avoid him completely. With all the power you could muster up, you sliced the axe across his back. The man hollered, pressing his hand against the wound. As he took sight of the blood on his hand the man simply laughed at you, muttering under his breath. There was no sign that this man was one of those weak one-God lovers Ivar used to tell you about.

The man’s eyes had become very dark. And with a load roar he ran towards you, making you duck to avoid his dangerous move. The man, not expecting this, could not hold himself back and thrashed through the tent and the opening you just made, falling down on his face as he flew through the gab. Not wasting the moment, you ran after him, pushing him down with your foot and hitting him with the stump side of your axe so you could knock him out. As fierce as you may be now, a shieldmaiden was not what you were at heart.

“Heathen!”

The word made your blood run cold. A couple of men had spotted you. Running towards you at full speed, their swords raised high in the air. Turning around and deciding that your time acting as a hero was over, you tried to make a run for it, sprinting to the trees.

With each step the tree line came closer. And with that, your freedom. An escape from the terrible fate of being captured by the enemy. Behind you, tents were still burning. Christian soldiers and Viking warriors lay dead on the bloody floor. Those that had started their escape too late either trashing in the hold of those Christians or hiding in the few tents that were still untouched.

Another step. The trees were so close. Two men ran in front of you. Both carrying their wounded friend, trying their best to get him to safety. Grunting as they carried him forward, completely ignoring his pleas to leave him behind.

Another step. With a quick look behind your shoulder, you noticed that those Christian soldiers had stopped following you. Instead, there was only one remaining. Standing lonesome, next to a tent that was lightened on fire. Not slowing down, you kept running.

And then.

Pain.

A sharp cry passed your lips as the piercing, throbbing pain in your shoulder knocked you off your feet. Falling down on your stomach, you tried your best to look at your right shoulder, where an arrow had pierced your flesh. Moving felt almost impossible, the pain keeping you down on the ground. Leaving you vulnerable. An easy prey for the Christian soldier that walked up to you, grinning wickedly while playing with the bow in his hand.

---

Thank you for reading xxx

Tags: @fairyofvoid

#vikings #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless imagines #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagines #ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless fic #first request

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cindersnightmare · 4 years

Text

a deal with time (cath x jest au)

summary: after cath pleads with time to bring jest back, he responds and gives her instructions.

warning: this is pretty long so get ur snacks ready and enjoy

***

a day had passed since the dreadful battle on the pumpkin field. cath hadn’t stopped crying, all she could think about was jest’s lifeless body. she went over the event in her head, replaying her mistakes, imagining everything going differently. it made her feel even worse.

her mind and body had become a dark wasteland, all light and hope snuffed out, with no chance of returning. how could she ever smile again if jest was gone?

cath lifted her head from her pillow and walked to her vanity. she sat on the stool and looked at her reflection, not surprised by the dark circles and tear stains. she closed her eyes and whispered, “please. please bring him back.” her hands gripped the edge of the vanity. “i will do anything. i will serve you until i am nothing but bones and dust. i will give anything if you bring jest back to me.”

her pleas were quiet but passionate, every word racked with a small sob. any faith she had left was poured into every syllable as her knuckles turned white and her throat burned from the promises. she had to believe time would hear her. she had to believe that there was a chance for all of this darkness to go away.

“child, why do you ask such an impossible request?”

a deep voice startled her, and she opened her eyes. when she looked back in the mirror, there were faint features of eyes, a nose, and lips. she froze as her face collided with the spirit in the glass. “time?” she wavered.

“yes, that is me.” the reflection rippled as he spoke. “it’s not easy bringing someone back from the dead. they travel so far, and it’s a task that needs to be done quickly. why should i do this for you?”

a million reasons popped into her head as soon as the question hit the air. “jest didn’t deserve death. he deserves to be happy, he should be with me. please, i will do anything you ask.” cath cried, willing to give up everything for jest, like she had done the night before at the ball. she still couldn’t understand how the night had started so hopeful for them and then ended in terror.

time seemed to calculate her response, taking a moment to speak. when he did, a ripple moved through the glass, catching the afternoon light coming in from the window. “lots of people don’t deserve to die. i cannot bring back all of them. why should i do this for you?” he asked again.

“i made a mistake. i shouldn’t have gone through the door, i shouldn’t have come back to hearts. this place and its people have done nothing but hurt us. i should have gone to chess with jest. he didn’t deserve to die for my foolish decision. i will pay any price, please.” she pleaded again, tears clouding her vision. a pit of regret had been growing in her stomach for hours. she was sinking, drowning, grasping for a life raft.

“the sisters told you your fate.” time said. “you knew what would happen if you went through the door. you chose the fate you were given, so why should you be able to escape it now?”

cath sobbed and grasped at her chest. it was hurting more than ever. “hatta has been able to escape his fate. you made a deal with him, you’ve helped him run from his inevitable madness.” she stated, watching as the face in the mirror remained still. “your deal with him is broken, but not through hatta. if you want to make good on your deal with him, make one with me. then everything will be as it should.”

silence engulfed them for a few moments. cath had developed a headache along with the pain in her heart and the pit in her stomach. she would put her all into this until a deal was made and jest was in her arms again.

“you have given me good reasons, child.” he spoke, his deep and somber voice filling the air once again. “escaping fate is my specialty, but i always need good reason, and someone willing to do anything for what they wish. hatta had always kept good on his promise and paid every price. his deal did not deserve to be broken, and your fate was unfair and unkind to you and your companions. i would like to change that fate for you.”

air filled her lungs, a weight lifted off her shoulders, and the tears had stopped falling. “you will? oh, thank you! anything you ask, i will do. i promise.” she rambled as relief and gratitude filled the empty wasteland.

“i will have to give you instructions, i cannot bring jest back by myself. you need to go back to the pumpkin patch.” time said and a shiver rolled down her spine. “you will have to wield the weapon that killed him and pour this over it.” a small bottle fell out of the mirror and onto the vanity next to cath’s hand. it contained a clear liquid, but surprisingly had no note attached. “once the potion is poured, stick the axe in the ground where he died. i will do the rest.”

cath picked up the bottle and shoved it in her dress. “how long will this take?” she asked.

time rippled the mirror again. “retrieving a wandering soul is not an easy task, but it must be done before sunset. after the sun goes down, he cannot be saved. i cannot extend time enough to save the dead from leaving this world. you must go now, child.”

as soon as the words were spoken, cath was leaving her room. she ran past her mother and father, who were shocked to see her out of her room, but didn’t get a chance to talk to her. she was already out the door and running through town. everyone stared at her with curiosity and bewilderment as she raced past them. they were sure she had gone mad and made sure to stay away.

once the pumpkin patch was in sight, cath’s nerves had started to riot. the memories from the night before were haunting her, filling her with desires of setting the whole field on fire. but she had a job to do, so she shoved those feelings aside.

the patch had almost looked like it did when cath first visited. the only difference was the broken pumpkin jail and the large spot of dark blood on the dying grass. cath walked towards the dried pond, tears welling in her eyes, remembering jest’s body lying there just hours ago. the axe was only a few feet away, and it wore the same red stains.

she picked up the weapon as hatred for peter grew in her heart, but she quickly erased him from her mind and pulled the bottle out of her dress. she tore the cork out and threw it on the ground. as she poured the potion onto the axe, the blood disappeared, as if it had never existed. she watched as every drop collided with every inch of the weapon. once the bottle was empty and there was no hint of red on the metal, she lifted the axe, and used all her strength to lodge it in the middle of the dark spot on the grass. the dried blood faded away quickly.

cath stood and waited. a mantra played in her head, telling her that this will work. she willed herself to be patient as she watched the ground closely.

the dead, yellow grass started to turn green. a bright light flashed and blinded cath for a few moments. she covered her eyes with her hands, scared she did something wrong, scared something was going to kill her for trying to disrupt fate. but that fear quickly faded once the light did. she lowered her hands and saw her joker standing on the newly revived grass.

her heart had stopped for a second at the sight of him. it was like nothing had happened, like it was all a very, very bad dream. he was still wearing the suit from the ball. he didn’t have a scratch on him, not a bruise, not a spot of blood. she almost fainted from happiness.

“jest!” cath exclaimed, his glowing eyes meeting hers, causing his confused expression to melt into a smile. she ran into his arms, burying her face in his neck. he quickly embraced her, filling her dark heart with joy. after a few moments she pulled back and kissed him. the empty wasteland was now a blossoming garden, a colorful and beautiful haven that would never die. as their lips collided and their arms wrapped around each other, cath had felt her broken pieces come back together. when the feeling was almost too overwhelming, she pulled back a few inches “i thought i lost you forever! i’m so sorry, jest, i never should’ve went through that stupid door!” she cried, holding him close.

he cupped her face, his yellow eyes gleaming as he spoke. “don’t blame yourself, catherine. anyone would’ve done the same thing. you’re a good person, too selfless for your own good.” a teasing laugh escaped his lips, causing her to smile at the sound. “what happened, cath? how am i here?” he asked, his confused expression returning as he placed a hand to his throat, as if feeling for a wound or the axe that had caused it.

“i made a deal with time.” cath said. “i couldn’t let go of you, i couldn’t accept your death. i had to bring you back.” she explained, reaching for his hand and holding it.

jest’s eyes widened, worry clouding them. “you made a deal with time? what is your price?”

“i’m afraid we didn’t get a chance to discuss that yet.” a somber voiced startled the reunited couple. they looked down and saw a face gleaming in the metal of the axe, staring back at them. “i apologize, we had to act quickly. i will declare your price now, and i’m sure it’s one you’ll be glad to pay.”

cath nodded as she gripped onto jest’s arms. “yes, go on.”

“jest cannot stay in hearts.” time began. “this is the place he died, the place where he is supposed to be dead. this land had his soul and now it doesn’t, and if his soul remains above ground in hearts after sunrise, it will take it back. once his soul is returned, the rest of your fate will resume and you will become queen, catherine.”

she shivered at the thought of losing him again and held him even closer. “so what do we do?” she asked, hoping this fate would not destroy her like the last one.

the reflection surged as if it was eager to answer her question. “you must leave hearts and never return, just as you wished to do last night. you cannot communicate with anyone in hearts. no one can know jest is alive. they will talk and the land listens. i am feeling quite generous, so that is all you will have to pay.”

cath and jest looked at each other, smiles growing on their faces. “i’d say that’s a very good price.” he said as he brushed her hair away from her face. “tell me, time, are we able to bring a couple friends with us?”

“if you are referring to the others who were affected by your last fate, then yes. the hatter and the raven may accompany you.” time responded. “i must leave you now. be quick, children.” the reflection faded and all that was left was a clean axe.

a laugh escaped cath as if she wasn’t able to contain all of her happiness. “i think we struck a good deal. now let’s get our friends and leave this awful place.”

jest kissed her again, cheeks hurting from smiling. “lead the way, my love.”

***

tag list: @jacihayle @lothloriien @littlegreenfrog @cerenoya @winterrhayle @half-heaven @strawberry-seraph @lethughandsimonkiss @lavenderbloo @horton-hears-a-who @plain-jane-mclain @thepurpledragon4444 @lunarchroniclesnet @nodrianbcyes @artino-nova @princesspri222 @dawniebb @healing-winston-pratt @annoyingfangirlblog @idkchatie @dancing-in-my-bedroom @angstycatthatlikestea @queen-of-self-love @love-andanarchy @moon-swoon @girlfriendisthemoon @disco-funk-and-soul09 @jimenaatrash @hackergeniuscress @heartless-fanblog @princessselenecinder

#heartless #heartless marissa meyer #cath x jest #cath x jest au #catherine pinkerton #catherine #jest #jest the joker #hatta #mad hatter #alice in wonderland #heartless fanfic #heartless au #cath x jest fanfic #marissa meyer #cindersnightmare #usermaven

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midnightsnapdragon · 3 years

Note

Are you still taking tlc prompts? Love cress/Jacin brotp (reluctant shortcake and grumpy softie Jacin).. or maybe Jacin giving Thorne the shovel talk? He’s be scarier than wolf even without the teeth

...

Thorne opened the doors to the Rampion’s hangar and reached inside for the lights. When they came on, he screamed a little and clapped a hand over his heart.

Jacin glanced over his shoulder from where he sat, cross-legged, with a truly chilling array of weapons spread around him on the floor. Daggers. Throwing knives. Two pistols. A wicked-looking hook thing on a chain. A small axe with a wooden handle. He held a saber in his lap - one of those curved decapitation swords, at any rate - and a rag in one hand, as if he’d been polishing it.

Or cleaning something off of it.

“Stars!” Thorne said, trying to sound annoyed to cover his embarrassment. “What are you doing here?”

There was a pause before Jacin replied, levelly, “What does it look like?”

It looked like he’d been in the middle of inspecting his arsenal. Thorne should have known, then, to shut up. But he’d never exactly been the most perceptive person. “Can you even see in the dark?”

“I don’t need to see,” Jacin said, “to aim.”

His tone was bland. Inoffensive, even. But there was a sharp glint in his eye, hawklike, as he turned away, a look that said Thorne was piecemeal prey. Thorne felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“You know what,” he said, “I think I’ll collect those rations later.”

He backed away through the hangar door, but not before he saw Jacin pick up the saber and give it an experimental swing.

...

Shiiiiiink.

Thorne squeezed his eyes shut against the darkness of his bunk.

Shiiiiiink. Shiiiiiiink.

It was like hearing nails on a chalkboard. He stuffed his head beneath his pillow, pressing it down over his ears. But the sound wouldn’t be muffled. This time, when it came, it was slow, almost caressing, like someone wanted to drag it out for as long as humanly possible.

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiink.

Thorne threw aside the covers and leapt out of bed. When he emerged into the dimly lit Rampion corridor, he found Jacin leaning against the opposite wall, holding a whetstone against a knife as long as his forearm. His posture was relaxed, his expression unconcerned. As if he did this every night.

Which was, of course, exactly the case.

“I’m getting really sick of this,” Thorne said, in as friendly a way as possible. “Can you please sharpen your creepy guard knives somewhere else? It’s really freaking me out and I can’t sleep.”

Jacin glanced up at him, and nonchalantly lifted an earbud from his ear.

“Sorry, what?”

“Can you please go somewhere else?”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“Yes,” Thorne said, emphasizing in case it was a difficult word to understand. “And I bet it’s disturbing Cress and Scarlet, too.” They’d all volunteered to distribute the new version of the cure together, to combat the new strain of letumosis; Wolf was taking care of the Benoit farm in Scarlet’s absence.

“Scarlet and I have an understanding,” Jacin answered indifferently, as if this was supposed to explain anything. “And Cress sleeps with headphones on. It’s not disturbing them. Besides,” he added, like it had only just occurred to him, “I thought you were staying up late to talk to one of your old friends?”

“Suzie from school,” Thorne said slowly, uneasy about where this was going. “But she’s in a different time zone, so she had to go to sleep.”

“I see.”

Something about the way he said it sent a chill down Thorne’s spine, as if someone had walked over his grave. He backed away into his room, eyeing the dagger.

“I’m going to sleep now, too, so. Uh. Please be considerate.”

“Sweet dreams,” Jacin said.

Thorne closed the door in his face. Then, after he’d stood watching it for five minutes, he shoved a chair up under the lock for good measure.

...

“I think Jacin is going to kill me.”

“Oh yeah?” Cress said absently. She was playing a game on her datapad with her legs kicked up onto the desk, and she was not paying attention to Thorne at all. He gave her a pathetic look from where he lay sprawled on her bunk bed.

“I’m serious. He’s been acting really scary. Well,” he amended, “scarier than usual. You know what I mean.”

“Jacin isn’t scary. Shoot!” Cress said, abruptly, in disgust: one of her flappy birds had hit a pipe. “I was so close. Damn it.” She set the datapad down and wrung out her hands. “Ten points away from beating my high score ...”

She was so cute when she tried to swear. “He’s not scary to you,” Thorne said, looking at her fondly. “Which I get, obviously. But whenever I walk into the room, he starts ... he starts ...”

Cress frowned, finally looking at him. “Has he said anything?”

“No, but ...”

“What?”

“Well, yesterday I was talking to Émilie, right? Scarlet’s friend? It’s cool, we’re having fun, we’re even starting some inside jokes. And then he comes into the kitchen and sits down on the other end of the counter and gives me this -- this -- this look. Like I’m this insect. I had to hang up early because he was killing the vibe.”

“Huh,” Cress said.

“I know. Weird, right?”

“Hmm. Nope,” she said, picking up her datapad again and focusing on it. “Doesn’t seem weird to me.”

Thorne stared at her. “It ... doesn’t?”

“Mm-mm.”

Silence. Thorne opened his mouth to ask her something, thought better of it, and closed it again.

...

“Frankly, I’m not surprised,” Scarlet said, as they stacked empty crates onto empty crates in the hangar. “Can you get the ones in the cart outside? I’ll roll out the next batch for Craiova.”

They were making their way across Romania, distributing new loads in between trips back to Luna for supplies. “What do you mean, you’re not surprised?” Thorne demanded, standing over Scarlet as she checked the empty wooden crates for fissures. “He’s not a Lunar guard anymore! He never seemed like the type to go around sticking knives in people in the first place. He’s not a killer. Just an asshole,” he added under his breath, glancing over his shoulder in case Jacin had snuck up on him again. But there was no one else in the hangar with them.

“It doesn’t take an asshole to want to stab you,” Scarlet said, straightening with some difficulty: they’d been lugging crates all morning, and both their backs were aching. “What makes you think he treats you differently from anyone else?”

“Well, yesterday I was helping Iko pick out an outfit for this cotillion she’s attending with Cinder --”

“What, on video call?”

“Yeah, and then Jacin came by --”

“Did he hear you compliment her?”

Thorne stared at Scarlet. “What?”

“Did he hear you,” she said impatiently, “tell Iko she was pretty? Or gorgeous, or whatever it is you think sounds suave?”

Thorne distinctly remembered telling Iko that she was statuesque and that anyone would be lucky to romance her. A sinking feeling starts in his stomach. “Uh. Maybe?”

“And what did Jacin do?”

“He made some comment about applying to Cinder to change the laws on Lunars fighting Earthens, or duelling, or whatever.”

“Mother of stars,” Scarlet said, closing her eyes in the manner of someone asking the heavens for patience. “Thorne. Jacin is Cress’s friend. He knows she’s in love with you. And that you’ve agreed to be ...” She flapped a hand. “Romantically involved with her.”

“Romantically --” Thorne spluttered. “I’m in love with her!”

“Tell him that, or he might get the wrong idea about you flirting with everyone in sight,” Scarlet said severely. “And out of sight. Now help me with these, or I’m not cooking tonight. You can eat oily artichokes straight from the jar.”

...

“I’m in love with Cress,” Thorne announced to the kitchen.

Jacin, who’d been reading something on his datapad at the counter, raised his eyebrows and looks around exaggeratedly, as if to see who else Thorne might have been talking to. When this search found no one else to be present, he turned back around and said, “And?”

“And I’m not going to hurt her,” Thorne said firmly.

Jacin just looked at him, waiting. Thorne went on:

“So if I compliment other people or try to make friends with them, it’s because I’m a shameless hussy and need friends to validate me. Not because I’m faithless. And for all the stars,” he said, exasperated, as Jacin raised a mug of coffee to his lips and sipped, “Iko and Émilie are already dating, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Jacin said nothing, but his eyebrows rose higher above the mug, as if he couldn’t imagine what Thorne thought this had to do with him.

“I ... thought you might want to know,” Thorne finished lamely. “As Cress’s friend. So you don’t have to fight me or anything.”

Jacin put down the mug. “That’s a relief. I didn’t want that on my conscience.”

This sudden forthrightness took Thorne by surprise. “Oh,” he said. “Really? I didn’t think you’d be a pacifist.”

“Not pacifism,” said Jacin, getting to his feet. “Rules of engagement.” When Thorne looked confused, Jacin shook his head in a pitying sort of way. “You’re a civilian. Do you honestly think it would be a fair fight?”

By the time Thorne figured out what that meant, Jacin had already left the kitchen, and the coffee in the mug was cold. Thorne spluttered, spun around and yelled after him, into the corridors of the Rampion.

“HEY! Who are you calling a civilian? I was in the army too, you know! Hey! Come on out, I just want to talk! No one has to know! Thirty univs says I can get in a hit before you knock me out, eh? Those aren’t bad odds! Hey, JACIN! Who are you calling --”

...

send me a prompt and I’ll write a quick(ish) drabble!

#the lunar chronicles #tlc fanfic #carswell thorne #jacin clay #cresswell

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