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lepusrufus · 3 years

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Back to Bela can’t catch a break ever y’all. This time with a bit of a messier sketch but hey the chapter is slightly longer so enjoy-

Butting heads part 2 (p1)

Ugh.

Daniela tried to lower her sister as gingerly as possible into an armchair. Despite her efforts though, a pained groan could be heard from her with each movement, no matter how small.

“Bela, can you move your arms? I need to see your wounds.”

It took way more than it should have, but eventually the blonde managed to move her arms out of the way and Daniela could finally have a good look at the bloody mess that was her torso. She winced.

The left bicep had claw marks going all around it, torn skin mingled with the shredded fabric of her sleeve. The right shoulder had deep gashes going from the back to the chest and Daniela could swear there were small pieces of fractured bones poking out from the bloody wound with each breath. Even her neck sported a -thankfully- shallower cut. Finally, the bite on her midsection looked like Cassandra just ripped out a chunk of flesh. The hole had a pool of blood slowly dripping out past ripped skin and muscle, onto the tattered dress.

Daniela took a deep breath and went to rummage through a cabinet. She came back with a pair of shorts and a strapless bra.

“Can you change or do you need he-” She was interrupted by Bela grabbing the clothes.

“I got it.”

The redhead nodded and turned around, giving her sister some privacy, and busied herself with various medical tools. Needle holder, needles, sutures, bandages...lots of bandages. From the other side of the room she could hear light shuffling and barely withheld groans. Daniela continued to arrange the various items on a metal tray, until-

"...Could you clasp this?"

Daniela returned to her, putting the tray on a small table and going to help her sister, who apparently failed at clasping the bra. She immediately noticed her right arm slumped awkwardly over the armrest.

"You can't move your arm?"

"I can, it just hurts like hell."

The redhead frowned and grabbed a stool, placing herself right in front of Bela. She started taking care of the left arm, wanting to get the lesser injury out of the way first. There were some fabric pieces to get out of the wounds but if the blonde felt any discomfort, she didn't show it. In all fairness, the pain from the other two injuries was probably overpowering the pulling of a few stray strands. The gashes were then cleaned and quickly wrapped in bandages.

Next was the right shoulder.

Daniela repeated the same procedure of pulling out the torn fabric that got stuck in the flesh. This time though, Bela was hissing until a jolt of pain made her jerk her shoulder backwards. The sudden motion caused the wound to stretch open slightly more, revealing the sharp tip of a fractured bone. In this new position, Daniela could clearly see the jagged placement of her sister's collarbone. She gingerly traced it on the skin, feeling for all the irregularities and grimaced.

"Um, Bela... I think she broke your collarbone." She didn't think, she was quite certain actually.

A pause.

Then Bela pinched the bridge of her nose, exhausted and contemplating whether or not she would heal in a timely manner if she just laid down for a couple of days as she was.

"Wonderful."

"I'll stitch this over and it should help speed up the healing process."

Their wounds didn't exactly need the same care humans did. They could heal almost anything in record time, their flesh and bones mending themselves thanks to their mutation. But "record time" was still gonna take a while if Bela had bone shards poking around her upper chest and shoulder while the flies regrouped into proper functioning tissue. Stitches should help keep it somewhat in place until the bone was reformed.

Bela seemed to loathe the idea though, looking at her younger sister like she was about to inject mercury in her veins. She hated getting stitches.

Daniela did her best to ignore her sister's bewildered look, quickly cleaning the skin of coagulated blood and grabbing the needle from the tray. The first few stitches went by with no issue. On the fourth one though, Daniela had to pull on the skin a little more than before, which made Bela hiss through gritted teeth. The process repeated until the wounds were mostly closed, keeping the muscle and bones from moving around too much. Bela's knuckles were white from gripping the armrests as if her life depended on it and Daniela decided to give her a break.

"How do you think Cassandra is doing?"

Bela let her head fall back, a humorless laugh escaping her lips.

"Probably in as much pain as me," she responded, vaguely gesturing to her mangled torso with her functioning hand.

She then glanced down at her younger sister, who looked somewhere to the side, worry flashing in her eyes. A pang of guilt bit at Bela. Out of the two of them, Daniela could probably recall the most vividly how it felt to be in that state. Completely out of control and hurting and scared and oh so painfully hungry.

And for what was worth, she didn't really blame Cassandra for their fight. It had been a tense day and Bela snapped at her sister, knowing full well where to throw a jab that would hurt. And Cassandra responded.

"I'm sure mother is handling it. Don't worry."

The redhead only sighed and gave her a curt nod. Despite her carefree or, as some would say, crazy, nature she loved her sisters deeply. Knowing what Cassandra was going through at that very moment was upsetting her more than she would ever admit.

"Okay last one," she said finally, grabbing a cloth to clean the wound in Bela's abdomen.

At least the one thing they didn't need to worry about was blood loss, given how easily their blood coagulated. At this point Daniela was just wiping off black-ish chunks from her sister's skin. If she weren't used to ripping into raw flesh with her teeth, she would've probably found it gross.

Once the area was clean, it was time for stitches. The redhead grimaced at the gaping hole, unsure on how close it. She tentatively poked the skin with the needle, feeling muscles tense up, and tried to pull the two sides of the wound shut.

Bela doubled over, almost knocking heads with Daniela, and let out a strangled cry. The motion caused the needle to get ripped out, leaving behind a new small tear in the already shredded skin. That was the least of her worries though, as the blonde could feel pain radiating through her whole abdomen almost causing her breakfast to come up again. At this point she was almost sure that Cassandra's fangs pierced some organ and honestly, there was no stitching that. She just needed to tough it out until her flesh put itself back together.

"Don't. Please. Just patch it up and I'll wait for it to heal by itself. I don't care how much longer it takes." It was getting increasingly hard not to slur her words due to the dizziness.

Daniela pursed her lips, uncertain whether or not Bela was in any state to make that decision but in all fairness she didn't think she could actually stitch that up. And so she grabbed a roll of bandages and started to wrap it around her sister's body. By the time she was done, Bela's torso looked almost like a mummy, only her forearms spared from injury. Her right arm was held in place with a sling, to avoid moving around any bones and by her expression she looked ready either to puke or pass out. Daniela really hoped for the latter.

While they were waiting for Bela to catch her breath an mentally prepare herself to walk to her room, the door opened slowly, allowing their mother to duck inside. She approached the armchair, now bloodstained, with worry written all over her features.

"How are you feeling, love?"

"I'm okay mother."

"She has a broken collarbone and a good chunk of her abdomen is missing."

Bela snapped her head in her sister's direction, gritting her teeth in pain due to the sudden movement, but glare as fierce as ever. Daniela however only raised her arms, ignoring the unspoken threat. She knew Bela would minimize her injuries and she didn't just spend half an hour stitching together flesh and hearing moans of utter pain just for her to say that she's "okay". Alcina simply sighed and patted Daniela's head.

"Come here, I'll take you to your room."

"I can walk," Bela replied, but made no protest when her mother's arms lifted her up gently and started carrying her to her chambers. Right now, sleep sounded like the best thing in the world.

Soon she was lowered onto her bed just as gingerly as she was picked up and soft blankets were placed on top of her.

"-m gonna...sleep," she said, finally giving in to the tiredness.

Her body desperately needed time and rest to start healing. She was grateful for her speedy regenerative abilities but still, she was looking at a couple days of not doing much else but sleep while her body reconstructed itself. She sighed, letting her eyes shut. Through the sleepy haze, she could feel a kiss on the forehead and a promise of food in a few hours. Then she either fell asleep or actually passed out but at least she was finally resting.

---

After a day and a half, Bela's wounds were almost closed. On her left shoulder there were only faint scratch marks visible, while the right was still mending the broken bone. The gash in her abdomen was better too, if slower at healing since her body needed to actually make new tissue to replace the missing one.

She was still in bed, reading a cheesy novel Daniela had brought her when a faint knock came from the door. She furrowed her brows for a moment. Daniela would have come in without knocking. Her mother would have made a far luder knock. And that only left-

"Hey."

The door opened slightly to reveal Cassandra. Her voice sounded hoarse and her eyes had dark circles around them. Her hair looked messy and the usual elegant attire was replaced by oversized sweatpants and a loose shirt that seemed to have blood stains on it.

"You look like hell," Bela chuckled, placing the book down without bothering with a bookmark.

The brunette huffed and came to sit on the edge of the bed, not meeting her sister's eyes.

"And here I was, thinking I'd come and see how you're feeling, like the good sister I am."

"Oh are you now?" Bela's laugh was cut short by a wince when her wound shot a jolt of pain through her abdomen. She was really hoping that whatever organ got pierced was back to its normal, whole state by now.

Cassandra's eyes snapped to her, eyes scanning every visible area covered in bandages. Her expression was a mix of worry, exhaustion and utter guilt when she finally noticed the dent visible through the cloth covering her sister's stomach.

"Are you-"

"Fine. It's healing, don't worry. This guy," she gestured to the pesky wound," just needs some more time to replace the tissue. You know how that goes."

She knew. Wounds didn't take long to close and heal but due to how their bodies worked, replacing tissue was a little trickier. Had she really caused this much damage? That day was a blur to Cassandra, only remembering how she messed up the hunt, Bela snapping at her and then everything was a vague mix of rage, pain and hunger. And her sister's arm firmly pressed against her throat to keep her in place.

She touched her neck gingerly, gaze fixated on the floor for an agonizingly long couple of seconds until Bela reached out and placed a hand on her leg.

"Hey what's -"

"I'm sorry."

Bela stilled, so unused to see the brunette show her emotions, let alone remorse. If it weren't for her particularly fine hearing she would've thought that she misheard, almost asking her to repeat herself. But turns out it wasn't needed.

"I'm sorry, Bela. I shouldn't have lost my head like that I just-...I messed up and then-...you and Dani- ugh. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Cassandra finished her ramblings with a hand going through her hair, probably pulling at it in the process. Her eyes were glossy and Bela was at a loss for words. She didn’t expect her sister to be so deeply affected by the whole incident. Then again, for her the mutation was more a distant memory than anything, while the brunette was still struggling with it on her worst days.

“Cassandra I’m fine really-”

“No, you’re not! Bela you have a missing chunk of flesh for Miranda’s sake!” she emphasised her words by pointing at the bloody bandages. “You’ve been locked up in here for days and Daniela and mother won’t say anything but I can see it in their eyes. They’re worried sick! And it’s my fault, I hurt you, I could’ve killed you.”

Bela stopped her by grabbing her wrists gently.

“Now don’t give yourself too much credit.” Cassandra only scoffed, shifting her gaze.”I’m serious. We can’t exactly die due to injuries and while I'm not having the time of my life here, I’ll be fine. Stop blaming yourself, I also pushed you too far.”

Cassandra slumped her shoulders in defeat. She was too tired to fight her sister’s words, especially when they were spoken with such certainty. So she opted to chew on her bottom lip until she gathered her thoughts enough to speak up, in a barely audible voice.

“Can I hug you or will it rattle some broken bones?”

Bela winced at the thought.

“Only the left side please.”

#hi yes i actually managed to finish this yeehaw #gore #blood #broken bones #fun stuff #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #fanfic #my art #resident evil village

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

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Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH1

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff.

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London's best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

He was giving you that look. not the look, that look - the one that told you to stop doing what you were doing. It wasn't often that you'd layer it on thick for the press, making sure that you're giggling as you press your hand to his chest. With each flash of a picture you make sure you're striking a different pose. It was hard work being a liar, but it was even harder work without the publicity you gained.

Your Publicist Cheryl or 'cherry' as she begged you to call her, had devised her own scheming plan to generate not only some amazing press for you, a well established quidditch player, but also some well-needed hype and sales for Fred Weasley's shop. After all, it's not every day that London's best quidditch player was dating Infamous Fred Weasley, Gryffindor Star beater and all-in-all stellar man. The plan had been well and truly in action for just over four months, With Fred the main face of the shared brand with his brother George, it felt like the best option according to Cherry.

You were leaning into Fred, answering press questions about the latest win, how you were feeling about the upcoming game and, of course the all too regularly asked update on the relationship. You were 'very happy with a man like Fred', he was smiling down at you, gushing sappily "She may be the best Seeker in the game, but my god is she a keeper." The line made you sick to your stomach, When Cherry had pitched it to you both, you were groaning in disgust, but as she pulled the lollipop from her bright red lips with a pop, staring at you with raised eyebrows, you knew it had to be done.

As the interview began to wrap up, you thanked the photographers and journalists, grabbing Fred's hand and interlocking your fingers with a beaming smile, you made sure the cameras could see, after all the last issue of the Daily Prophet branded it as a 'winning smile'. You were escorted away from the press, once out of sight from them, your hand dropped from Fred's grip. "Well done for not making that so not obviously fake." you quipped at him, going to pull your coat on and check your phone for any messages. He laughed, imitating your voice, "Oh, Fred, you're so handsome, won't you just kiss me right now?" You scoffed, throwing your bag over your shoulder. Your phone had three messages when the screen had lit up, your stomach feeling like it had butterflies when you noticed the name.

>> Do I get to see my beautiful girl later?

>> I got your favourite for dinner.

>> I miss your lips already

You felt like the luckiest girl alive in his presence, he made you feel like a princess - a queen even, with every night you spent with him. It all started at Hogwarts for you two, after all, It's not often you get to see the best Slytherin seeker and the Gryffindor star beater together. It really wasn't often because you'd been hiding your relationship for that long. He taught you quidditch skills that got you to where you are today during late, late night practices, often ending with makeout sessions on the grass as you straddled his hips,giggling into the bitter Scottish air.

You fell in love with George Weasley as a teenager, and for 6 years you had kept your relationship a well-guarded secret. Even through the war, you kissed each other goodbye, praying that it was only a see you later. You knew that one day you would marry the gorgeous man you loved so dearly. You tried to persuade Cherry, who had and still has no clue about your true relationship status, for it to be George you had a public relationship with, but she quickly shut the idea down because George was 'too quiet'.

<< I miss you so much Georgie… heading back to the shop with fred now

<< btw I'm staying over tonight, I won't suffer another night without kisses :'((

>> Just kisses? ;)

<< Shut up.

<< I love you xx

>> I Love you too, babygirl xx

>> Daddy can't wait to see you <3

George stood lazily, arms draped over the balcony as he was smiling down at his phone like a muppet. He was so head over heels with you that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. George wasn't mad that you had to fake date his twin, after all, he'd rather it be Fred than some random quidditch man, or worst of all, Krum. He knew and recognised how important it was to your career plus, what good businessman turns down the opportunity to rake in some sales? It hurt to read the papers sometimes, seeing how much attention you both got together, a part of him wished it was he who got to show you off.

When you entered the shop, you caught George's eyes immediately, a bashful smile spread across your face, immediately feeling like a schoolgirl again in his presence. Fred sulked off to his office, leaving you to browse the shop until your driver arrived to take you to team practice. You were browsing the upper back wall of products when you felt his stare on you, he was meters away from you and you ached to draw him in for a kiss. You reached out to him, making the grabby hands that he couldn't resist, he checked over his shoulder, seeing nobody, before waking over to you, he pulled you into a quick and needy kiss by your neck, his other hand finding your hip.

"I'll be home after practice," you mumbled between kisses. It was common for you to travel to his via floo, arriving at the place you truly called home, leaving a vacant and empty flat behind. He shook his head, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. "Too long to wait," he laughed softly, his lips pressing to yours again, you were just about to deepen the kiss when you heard Cherry yell out, "Y/N let's go or you'll be late for practice!" You sighed, leaving your boyfriend behind, fingertips being the last thing to separate as you walked away, leaving him dumbfounded.

Practicing with your team was always a long, tough grind, your captain worked you hard and she knew it was all for the best, she was due soon to step down from her duty as captain, leaving the team in your hands, so you felt like you were learning double constantly. The warm water running down your skin made you crave George's touch even more, pushing the thought of Fred's hand on your hip out of your mind completely, you simply couldn't wait.

When you arrived home, George, as promised had your favourite dinner ready for you. He was an amazing chef, using muggle techniques and tools to help create the perfect dishes without the need for magic. You shrugged off your jacket and bag, relaxing into the dining table chair as George brought out your bowl, his hands were massaging your shoulders as you ate, "Aren't you gonna eat, Georgie?" you questioned him, he smirked, "I've been waiting for you to get home so I could have my favourite." George was on his knees, hands reaching up to pull down your leggings, you lifted your hips up, allowing him to drag the material down each of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders,

You knew exactly what he was doing, your hands found his hair and he tutted, breath fanning over your pussy as he looked up at you. "I made your favourite for you, Princess, You always liked it when we eat together." His tongue darted out to lick over your covered slit, feeling you already wet through your underwear, he hummed in appreciation, his teeth pulling the material to the side before attaching his lips to your clit.

Every time he hummed against you, it made you shake, the task of eating dinner becoming more and more strenuous, as you struggled to swallow down the food while he was pulling such sinful moans from you. George's skilled tongue was fucking your cunt, swallowing everything he could like it was the last meal he'd ever eat, and godric did he think you tasted divine, his thumb came up to circle your clit slowly, bringing you closer and closer to the ege.

Thing is with George, he doesn't stop till he's got what he wanted. "Finish your dinner, baby," he smirked, a long finger slowly teasing your entrance, "I'm not finished until you are too." he was a determined man, by your second orgasm you could hardly hold up your fork, but nevertheless you soldiered on, managing to swallow the last piece just before number three hit, your legs were shaking and you were moaning incoherent sentences. That was possibly the best meal of your life, your weak legs could hardly hold you up when you tried to stand.

George pulled you up into his arms, carrying you to the bed where he found your favourite shirt of his, helping you change into it, he left to make you a cup of tea, bringing it into the bedroom for you. sitting contently beside each other.

George's phone buzzed on the side, he read the message from fred. Laughing before showing it to you, the irony all too funny for him to resist.

>> George, if only you had to do this… Fancy swapping places at the product launch on Saturday?

<< Love to, but I'm not sure that's how the whole twin thing works.

>> With an ass like hers, I don't mind it too much… shame, she seems like your type.

The last text from him made george both laugh and be angry at him sexualising his girl. You laugh, pressing a soft kiss to your boyfriend’s jaw before taking a sip of your tea, "He doesn't know George."

He hums a little bit before typing a reply.

<< It really is a shame, she does have a nice ass.

You scoff, rolling your eyes - Men.

///TO BE CONTINUED/// Chapter Two >>>>>

Taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #george weasley fic #harry potter #mutuals innit #weasley twins #fred weasley #harry potter fic #fred weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #harry potter smut #harry potter writing #Fake It Fic

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teddy06writes · 3 years

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Greek Myth AU: Eros and Psyche Part Two

Eret x afab!reader

trigger warnings: general death/death mentions, Aphrodite being a bit of a bitch, reader is pregnant for the sake of the original myth, but its not mentioned that much

premise: again, this explains the original myth, this part is the second half/the challenge thingys.

Part one

list of Greek Gods/characters for this work

Eros- Eret

Aphrodite- Puffy

Zephyrus- Philza

Zeus- Dream

Pan- Tubbo

Demeter- Ranboo

Hera- George

Hades- Wilbur (only mentioned)

Persephone- Niki

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"No love can exist without trust."

The words echoed through (y/n)s head as they wandered through the still dark field. It seemed no use to them to even try to go back to the villa.

Slowly, they came to a stop next to the brook, laying down amongst the bank, one hand on their stomach as they watched the water pass, wondering what they would do.

How could they go on if Eret had left?

"Are you alright?"

(y/n) jumped at the sudden noise, sitting up and turning to see a saytr- no not just any Satyr, they found themself face to face with Tubbo, god of the wild.

"Uhhh...."

He let his head half fall sideways to look at them closer, "You don't look alright. Have you been crying?"

They sniffed, nodding, "I suppose so, yes. I've just had... a rough day."

He nodded, "Does this have anything to do with what I heard Eret shouting earlier, cause that sounded pretty bad."

"It- was actually."

Tubbo winced, "Yikes. You know, though from what I heard, from what I can see now, you really do look like someone who is very much in love. Don't leave yourself to rot here, you must continue on, and win his affections back."

"But how can I? I've lost all of his trust." They sighed.

"You must try, you must." Tubbo insisted, he offered them a hand and helped them to stand, "There is a way, and you will be able to find it. That I am sure of."

So, (y/n) traveled on, through the lands until they at last reached their home nation. Soon, they sought out their sisters, telling them that their deception had caused them to be cast out, not by a beast, but by the god Eret, himself.

When their sisters claimed excuses, and hurried off (perhaps to try and be taken by the god), (y/n) could only sigh and move on.

As they continued the travel, searching for any signs of their husband, he was stuck in Puffy's castle, the splash of oil having done much more damage than she'd originally thought.

All too soon, Puffy had found out where Eret was, and what had happened. Furiously, she rushed into their chambers, utterly pissed that she had gone so far against her instructions as to fall in love with (y/n).

The goddess was in such a rage, that she hardly noticed the state he was in, instead yelling on about how 'that wretched mortal would need to be punished'.

"No!" Eret cried through gritted teeth, "They may have betrayed me, but this is not their fault!"

"She shall be punished!"

It was only the announcement that Ranboo and George had arrived that pulled Puffy out of her yelling.

"Puffy, what's happened?" George asked once she had returned to the main room.

"Do remember that mortal? The one everyone was infatuated with?" Puffy asked, annoyed.

Ranboo nodded, "I thought you had sent Eret to get rid of them."

"The foolish boy went against me, brought her to some place, kept her safe, and now he's been burned because of it." She sighed, "The mortal will have to be dealt with. No simply plots of a forced love. I shall send them straight down to Wilbur's domain."

George bit his lip, "Well, are you sure that he didn't hide them away for good reason?"

"He fell in love with them." Puffy scoffed.

"Oh come on Puffy, don't punish them just because she fell in love. Doesn't he deserve ore than that? They must have fallen in love for a reason? You are the goddess of love, surely you should understand." Ranboo attempted to defend Eret, only to be cut off.

"I do not care what I should or should not understand! I want this mortal punished, and punished they shall be!" Puffy roared.

Meanwhile, (y/n) still wandered the land, looking for their lover, even as their health seemed to decline.

It had been a rather nice day when they stumbled upon the abandoned temple, covered in debris, and tools left behind. Some how, despite everything, it only made sense to clean the temple. To restore, to the best of their ability, to its former glory, or at least till it didn't look a mess.

It was slow work, but soon they had cleared the weeds, moved the old offerings back to their place, and found a place for the abandoned tools.

"You, poor (y/n)!"

They looked up to find Ranboo, towering over them, "M'lord?"

"I have come with a warning. Since your betrayal of Eret, Puffy has been after you, and you have been in great danger. Still despite this, you've come to clear the temple that my followers have abandoned. Why is this?"

"No place should be abandoned as I have been." (y/n) answered softly.

He frowned, sighing, "Well, I value my alliances with Puffy to much to harbor you. But, I will not turn you in, nor alert her in anyway you were every here. Consider yourself blessed."

As he disappeared, (y/n) couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief. They hadn't been met with Puffy's wrath yet. But that did not stop their sorrow.

Wandering farther and farther away from both the valley, and their home, (y/n) came across another temple, taking a rest from the road to step inside.

At the alter, they prayed, "George, queen of Olympus, I beg of you to help me. I am but a mortal, plagued by sorrow, driven out of every place Aphrodite seeks me. I do not wish for my child to be born to this life. Oh, dear George I beg for your help!"

George, hearing these prayers, quietly appeared to them, "Poor dear. I cannot help you, no matter how much I wish too. Puffy's anger stretches far, and even I cannot shield you from it."

When he had disappeared, (y/n) was forced back out the wandering, wondering, if maybe they revealed themself to the goddess, they might receive some mercy.

After a long pondering they set out, and after journey, the found themself at the palace of Puffy. Upon turning themself into the servants, (y/n) found themself dragged before Puffy, who demanded to know what they were doing.

"So you have finally decided to pay me a visit? Or is this just a trick to see your husband, who sufferers from a wound given by your hand!"

It had been a long afternoon for (y/n), until at last the servants, and even Puffy herself, let off, and gave time for the bruises to fully form, as Puffy taunted them, "Such a plain and boring mortal, how could he have fallen for you? And even given you a child? What a pathetic thing it will be."

It didn't take much longer after that for Puffy to decide, "A challenge then, you look to be a maid, lets see how well of one you are. Then you might gain enough favor to see your husband." She called for bags of wheat, barley, beans, lentils and chickpeas to be spread and mixed on the floor, "Have all of this sorted, before the night, and you may win some favor."

And as she disappeared, (y/n) wept, it would be impossible for them to sort the pile, let alone by the time she returned. It had seemed so hopeless, until, droves of Ants, driven by pity made there way into the room.

"Fear not, we shall help you with this task."

Soon the grain was sorted, and the ants disappeared as Puffy returned, looking around incredulously, "This work mustn't be yours! Surely it isn't! You foul thing! This work is far from over!"

The next day, a new challenge was assigned.

"There is a field, a few miles from here, where golden sheep graze all day. Travel there and bring me back a tuft of wool from one by the time the sun sets, or give up on all hope of seeing your husband again." Puffy commanded.

Obediently, (y/n) set out, and as they crossed the river, a soft nymph whispered the secrets to gathering the wool from the dangeours animals.

Carefully, (y/n) waited until noon had passed, until the sheep had settled to one ide of the field, and crept out, gathering the soft tufts from the briars of the bushes.

Yet again, Puffy was surprised by their ability to comply and finish these challenges.

"Surely your husband had some hand in helping you finish this. Quickly mortal, while there is still light, take this, and fetch me the water from the upper most point of that mountain stream."

(y/n) took the pitcher, and slowly began to hike toward the mountain, dreading the dangerous climb ahead. The mountains slowly grew nearer, until (y/n) was forced to fully climb up and over rocks, and the potential fall could prove fatal.

They had paused for a rest, breathing heavy and staring up at the setting sun, there was no way they could make the trip to the top of the mountain and back before night fell.

Yet again, it all seemed helpless, until a kind eagle, indebted to Eret, swooped down, "Give me your jug child, and allow me to help."

When they returned to Puffy's castle, again they were met with surprise. No one had expected their return.

"You have done what I asked, and that makes me suspect you to be a witch. It will take a greater test to determine if you should see your husband again."

(y/n), barley held in a sigh, bowing their head.

"You will journey to the underworld, and meet Niki. She makes a beauty cream, I need you to get some for me. I've exhausted my supply."

(Y/n) began to shake, tears beginning to spill from their eyes, surely this task was impossible. No one could journey to the Underworld and make it back alive.

"Better get going." She scoffed, "And remember, not a single drop

They had no choice but to go.

It was a slow, painful journey, and it took much help, much advice to reach the underworld.

They called upon Niki, who greeted them kindly, and listened to their plight.

"I just wish to see my husband again, so I can explain myself, so I can apologize." (y/n) finished with a sigh.

Niki frowned, "That I cannot help with. But I can supply you with the beauty cream, to bring back to Puffy."

A box was filled and closed out of their view, before Niki presented it to them, with a warning, "The contents of this box, are not meant for mere mortals. It is highly dangerous for you to even look at it. You mustn't open this box, not for anything."

"I understand." They said, taking the box.

The journey back to the overworld seemed to pass quickly, but soon (y/n)s thoughts began to betray her.

Why would they carry this beauty cream if they were not able to take a drop for themself?

How were they suppose to confront their husband if they looked as ragged and hungry as they did now?

Slowly, the temptation took over, surely they would need this beauty cream more than the goddess of beauty.

As soon as the box was opened, they fell to the ground, nearly dead.

While they slept off their injuries, a great fight took place between the gods.

When they had at last awoken, they were greeted with the sight of their lovers face.

"Eret!" They gasped, "I'm sorry! I truly am! I don't know what I was thinking! Please forgive me! I love you!"

She smiled softly, "There is much we have to talk about my sweet."

It had been decided, that (y/n) would join the gods on Olympus, and remarry the god Eret.

Puffy would hurt them no more, and Eret, having heard what lengths they had gone too to get back to them, he couldn't keep them away.

#mcyt x reader #eret x reader #the eret x reader #teddy 06 #teddy 06 writes

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nebula-jazz · 4 years

Text

His World part 5

Dragon Alpha Bakugou x omega reader

warnings: this part has depictions of violence. Please do not report or hate. This is just how I have set up my story.

Your recovery was slow but a certain Alpha didn’t leave. When you were well enough he introduced you to his friends. Or you assumed that they were his friends, he refused to say so. There was a blonde named Denki, a redhead named Kirishima, a pink haired girl named Mina, and a brunette named Sero.

They came and said hello one at a time and at different times. This struck you as odd. You had met Kirishima last and had asked what was going on. He paused, Bakugou had left to go see if you had any meat left in your shead and Kirishima had made sure he was gone. He sighed.

“You can’t tell Bakugou that I told you but...” He hesitated as he tried to find the words to explain. “He asked if we could help watch over your land... That alpha that had threatened is still trying to get you.”

You felt the blood leave your face. Your skin prickled with mild panic. You had to go into town in a few weeks. Winter was ending and at the beginning of spring the king would gather taxes for land, food and protection. And even though your land was separate you still were taxed heavily on food and ‘protection’. King Endeavor was not a kind man to people who lived on dragon land especially since his son had ran off with one.

You explained what was going to happen and Kirishima’s face dropped.

“Are you sure you pay taxes? I mean you don’t live on his land.” You smiled sadly at his ignorance.

“Yes I do. I sell my vegetables in town so that I can have tools and clothes. And because of that he views me as a citizen. He especially knows I exist, since there are so few people who live on dragon land he has a specialized tax for people who do.” You heard a booming growl from behind you. You turned around to see a slightly pissed Bakugou.

“’Specialized tax’? What the fuck?!” You chuckled slightly at his anger. You felt endeared at his obvious worry.

“It’s just a few shekels more. The king claims says it’s for protection against dragons. But I don’t see why he always has me pay more than the other land owners. I think it's because my family was able to get more land from you guys than he ever will.” You said honestly. Kirishima seemed irritated this time. This surprised you because all you had seen from him that past several days was that he had the patience of a saint.

“It pisses me off that we are seen as a threat to everyone. It has been years upon years since any dragon has hurt any human without reason.” He ground out between his clenched teeth. You set a gentle on his shoulder and tried to make your scent calmer. You noticed the visible change of the two alphas.

“I have never been scared of you all. I only met one dragon before my parents...” You trailed off before you shook your head. “He was a decent sized golden dragon. My father said that he was the largest gold he had ever seen. The poor guy was coughing up blood and had a lot of internal injuries. We couldn’t do much. We did what we could before he left in the night and left a large part of his horde. My father said that because of his kindness we were able to live very comfortably and build most of what I have now. We could have had made this building more comfortable and fortified if our taxes didn’t go up so drastically.”

You finished with a sad sigh. They said nothing before you looked up and saw a unfamiliar look of awe on Bakugou’s face.

“You met the great dragon All Might?” He asked in a hushed whisper. Confused you nodded.

“Awesome..” Said Kirishima.

You sat in awkward silence as Bakugou started to cook. A feminine throat cleared and you looked over to a confused Mina holding a paper.

“Some dude was putting this on your fence on the border closest to the town.” Your face contorted into distaste.

“That must this years taxes. May I?” you asked and held out your hand she bounded over and handed the thick parchment over. You read over it slowly as to make sure you caught everything. When you reached the amount your mouth went dry. It was personal letter from the king.

Dear y/n l/n,

It has been brought to my attention that you have been harboring and nursing a dragon on your land. If you do not pay a fine of 300 gold by the last day of taxes you will be tried for treason. As you well know the punishment for treason for omegas is mutilation of all scent glands publicly. And all housing will be stripped from you.

Sincerely,

King Endeavor

“300 gold?” You whispered in horror. Mutilated scent gland ment painful heats, no mate ever, and would end with omega depression before death. You scent must’ve become bitter with your panic, because Bakugou stormed over and read over the post.

“Mutilation of scent glands?! No wonder Deku’s mate was in so much pain.” He growled. Mina’s and Kirishima’s scent spiked at the news.

“I don’t have 300. I only have 15.” You breathed. A sinking feeling settled in your stomach.

“What did it say.” Asked Mina gently. You swallowed hard to try and get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Unless I pay 300 gold I will lose everything except the land and will be tried for treason.” Mina’s eyes brimmed with tears at your next words. “I will be found guilty because the king will be judge and jury... And all my scent glands will be mutilated publicly.”

You could smell all three of their scents turn burnt with anger. Kirishima spoke up. His voice broke in several places as he did.

“They willingly do that to omegas?” His eyes begged for the information to be a lie. You slowly nodded.

“Its horrifying to watch. They did a mated omega when I was younger. They were one of the only willingly mated couple and were very nice. They stripped her of all clothes and slowly destroyed each gland. I remember having nightmares from both of their screams.” The room became cold after that.

Bakugou cleared his throat.

“But that won’t happen. You have enough right?” He said in a very gruff voice. Your throat constricted and you had to take several steading breaths as you stared at the ceiling to try and prevent tears. Your obvious distraught did not go unnoticed. The three alphas started pumping out calming scents as they all turned panicked.

“No. I don’t.”

~~~~~~

That night when you had gone to bed Bakugou paced in front of his friends. He had already talked to Kirishima and Kirishima was currently pacing the border. The three remaining friends watched him silently. Knowing that when he was ready, he would speak, as it was Bakugou who called them. Bakugou would pause clear his throat then go back to pacing.

Anxiety racked his brain even though it showed as anger. He had already made up his mind. He was just worried about his friends reactions. He finally turned on his heel and faced them. He was met with faces of concern and confusion.

“I’m flying back to my horde tomorrow night after Y/N goes to bed. I am not allowing that scumbag of a king to threaten my-” he cleared his throat again his face turning a slight shade of red. “Im not going to let Y/N get mutilated like that.” they all had to hold back laughter. Denki was the first to speak up.

“Your dragon has already chosen them. Hasn’t it?” Bakugou clicked his tongue.

“That’s all I wanted to say. Just protect them while I’m gone.” They nodded as he turned around and headed back into the house.

The answer was yes. And it was the most thrilling and terrifying thing that Bakugou was completely was ok. He started to live for all the small things that you did that he had noticed over the months he had stayed with you. It sent his stomach rolling and shivers up his spine. It sent him running yet wanting more. He was conflicted yet had made up his mind.

He quietly entered the upper room in which he had moved you. his scowl softened slightly as he gently traced your face. You sighed and cuddled into his hand. A small smile tugged at his lips and he tried to get up so he would sleep on the bottom floor. But your whimper of protest and you drowsy voice made his walls crumble.

“Stay...” Was your sleepy request. He let out a steady low purr as he carefully laid next to you. Your body visibly relaxed and you smiled and curled into his chest.

He knew you would embarrassed in the morning, but right now he just reveled in that he could hold you. So he wrapped his cape and arms around you and dozed.

Tags!!!!!

@theteddybearknight @bubbzibubbles @tspice283 @mikithekiki @damnirina @inumorph @staysstrays @tokyo-crow @khemz1312 @mykuronekome @just-mirko @kpop-andanime @just-jazz-things @darlingely @reblogs-of-things-i-like @burntspaghettio @loveableasshole @thrrud @pasteldaze @lexy586

#bnha bakugou #bakusquad #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #alpha!bakugou #alpha bakugou x reader #alpha bakugou katsuki #abo #mha #fantasy bakugou #dragon bakugou #x reader #mina #kirishima #denki #sero #endeavor

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thereluctantinquisitor · 3 years

Text

WIP Whenever!

Thank you for the tag @frenchy-and-the-sea, and for sharing your own wonderful WIP (which curious folks can find HERE - seriously, GO FORTH AND ENJOY).

I’m currently trundling away at a new project, so I figured I’d just go ahead and post the (current) chapter 1!

I will tag: @leothelionsaysgrrrr, @dafan7711, @captainsaku, @rufinagertrude, @bladeverbena, @thefluffynug and anyone else who has something they want to share (just tag me so I can see it!)

Chapter 1 (1800 words)

For many centuries, the blessed temple of Callifae, the Broken Bride, stood proudly atop its noble grassy plateau. The goddess, whose likeness emerged, brilliant, from the forward face of the temple, cast her watchful gaze over the quiet city of Vezarine with eyes of smooth, pale stone. When the sun set on a clear day, there was said to be a moment when those all-seeing eyes shone with a honey light; a perfect imitation of the goddess’ golden stare.

On this day, the second of Torrens, night had already arrived. The sun - gentler, now, against the summer-scorched earth - had vanished long ago. But still, the Bride’s eyes glowed.

Vezarine was burning.

In the warren of streets below, a cloaked figure peeled out of an alleyway. His chest rose and fell in a rough, staccato rhythm - the breaths of someone who had been running, climbing, hiding, fighting, for far too long.

The wide, two-storey building behind Xaraan was already blazing. Its wood groaned and cracked in the heat, slowly buckling beneath the weight of itself like a body held up by broken legs. Backing further into the street’s exposed centre, his footsteps crunched against a thick coating of ash and blood. When the upper storey gave way with a shudder that shook the ground beneath him, he simply watched, silent. Cold. It had been a workshop, once. A tannery, if the smell was any indication. A smell like cooked fat and burning hair.

Sivaan, the third of the sister-moons, hung low in the sky. She joined the fire to bathe the city red. The raid was almost done.

He had to move quickly.

---

Elsewhere in the ashen streets, a lone figure stood among the licking flames, the crimson mantle of her station whipping out behind her, tossed by the wind and smoke. Beneath her heels, the cobbles were stained black. Narrow rivulets trickled along the grooves in the stonework, drawn towards its gutters by the street’s gentle curve. Calayne, the Scythe of Erentis, watched the pattern as it slowly spread from the soles of her feet.

She was where she belonged. The poison at the centre of the web.

A sharp signal - her raised fist - led to a pattern of blasted horns, their low, reverberating sound rolling through the broken city like thunder. Irethani soldiers began to flood back onto the main streets, peeling out of buildings and alleyways, some wiping blades on their dark cloaks, others pleased by the gore trailing in their wake. A patrol group joked lightly beneath the red moon’s gaze; playful remarks about how considerate she was, to mask the worst of the stains. We have become too used to this, Calayne thought as her soldiers swept past, saluting, smiling at their conquest. It was not the first time such treacherous words had crossed her mind. They were as dangerous as any blade. She would do well to keep them sheathed.

“Scythe?”

Calayne released a slow, calm breath. Soon. Soon she would be rid of it all. The blood. The guilt.

That wretched name.

For now, she turned towards the familiar voice. Her dark hair, long and grey as night, swept past her face. “Report, Xaraan.”

Xaraan, the last of her officers, hesitated at her tone before snapping quickly to attention, right fist upturned against his stomach. “The city has fallen, Scy---ah, Overseer. Those who did not raise weapons against us have been gathered in the square by the catchers. Vezarine’s leader and high priest have barricaded themselves in the temple, along with their servants and a large number of cityfolk.” He hesitated, his luminous eyes flicking towards the statue of the goddess. “Should we send the burners?”

His question was first met with silence. How many this time? She had been informed before embarking that Vezarine was home to thousands. Then, after a sharp demand, Xaraan confirmed the estimated body count. It placed the dead, alone, at about the same number. The pleasure in his voice would have encouraged her, once. She would have basked in it.

Instead, she frowned into the smouldering dark. The numbers the Rhaiz had given her had been wrong.

She clenched her jaw until her teeth ached. Never again.

“Forget the temple. Give the signal to retreat.” She was careful to keep her voice flat. Expressionless. Fire, its smoke thick and dark, licked from rooftops in the distance. “We are done here.”

Xaraan, perhaps misreading her soberness, suddenly remembered proper protocol. Hurriedly, he placed himself directly in front of her, his feet in line with hers. As one might expect after a raid, the man was dishevelled, his light hair tangled at his shoulders, blood streaked across the front of his leathers. The dark markings that streaked down past his eyes in a mimicry of spilled ink only made the wideness of his gaze - its faint luminosity - more pronounced. He is still young, she thought absently. Then, that very same realisation struck her like a blow to the chest.

Had she not noticed that before?

“Overseer… the prisoners?” There was an edge to his voice, now. Uncertain. Fearful. That was the trouble of a man in his position. Even if he felt he knew the answer to his question, he was forced to risk her ire by asking it anyway.

This time, however, he could breathe freely. “Take the ones already gathered in the square. Leave the rest to sweep the ashes.” It was, truly, the least she could do. For Vezarine, yes, but also for her own soldiers. Unfortunately, she doubted it would be enough of an offering to spare them from the Rhaiz’s anger, once the dust had settled. She had been carving away at their leader’s patience for over five seasons. What might have once been a victory in his eyes was now a failure. Another bleeding gash to be stemmed.

Of course, Calayne was far too valuable to use as salve for his wounded pride.

No. She would dig her fingers in and tear.

In front of her, Xaraan - a far more likely sacrifice - hesitated, his amber eyes widening, betraying his surprise. Fool that he was, he had always worn his heart on his sleeve. It was a dangerous place, to keep such a vital thing. “But... Rhaiz Sathan’s orders were to take as many---”

Her patience was nearing its end. She cut him off with a glare.

“The Rhaiz’s orders have changed.”

A gust of hot wind blew past them both, forcing Xaraan to flinch and blink away the ash and dust. Distracted, his hand raised in front of his face, he made his first mistake. “I -- they have? I didn’t hear any...”

He stopped himself before she even had to speak. Of course, it was already far too late. A year or two ago, he would have been dead where he stood. The Scythe of Erentis had not earned her name for leniency.

“You are not in a position to be informed of anything.” Calayne’s gaze sliced across, ending his next sentence before it began. It carried with it a terrible, icy anger. The one that had borne her through decades of conquest. The one that had lifted her all the way to commander, then higher again to overseer. It gave weight to the words she spoke next, each laden with implication. “Do I need to remind you of your place?”

It was difficult to tell when one of the Irethani felt true fear. The other denizens of Erentis had developed noticeable tells for such things; vast swathes of their skin drained of colour, their voices shattered like glass, their bodies reshaped in ways that were impossible to ignore. But for her people, it was a subtle thing, best told by the lips. Xaraan’s, for example, had just turned a sickly pale shade of grey, his dark blood fleeing towards his stammering heart. “No, Overseer.” His gaze quickly fell to her feet, hands pressed hard to the tops of his thighs. A child’s trick to conceal a tremor. “I will sound the victory. Give your orders to the patrols.”

She made Xaraan spend a few more moments writhing beneath her stare. He had begun to question her more and more of late. Perhaps she had been a fool to allow such insubordination to fester and embolden him to the point of recklessness. It would see him killed under another’s command. Anger tightened her fists at her sides, but this time it was not a weapon to be aimed. No - it seemed her distractions had been as dangerous as her actions. For too long, her mind had been... elsewhere.

It remained a poor excuse for such carelessness.

Eventually, she released him from her glare with a sharp nod. “Go. Deliver my order.”

Xaraan’s relief was palpable. He exhaled it in a shaky rush. “Yes. Of course.” He gave a final salute, then turned to flee. But just when she believed their conversation over, the young man hesitated. Turned halfway back, his pale hair whipping in the fire-lit air. “The Rhaiz will be pleased with your victory today, Overseer.”

Calayne did not even have time to sharply repeat her order before he turned on heel and vanished into the thickening smoke. Sycophant, she thought at his retreating back, but swallowed the word like bitter tonic. It was self-preservation, obvious and infuriating, and nothing more. She should not scorn him for that.

The Rhaiz will be pleased with your victory today.

Calayne’s gaze lowered, drifting to a body discarded by the roadside. Human, she believed. Male, broad of stature, perhaps in the middle of his lifespan. He was sprawled, half out of his doorway, head resting in a dark pool where his home met the city street. A few feet away was an old scythe, flecked with blood on its curved edge. A common farming tool, raised as a weapon against an army. He had managed a single swing – one futile strike – before it had been kicked from his grasp and his throat opened to the night.

The sting of the cut burned on the underside of Calayne’s arm. Her dagger still dripped a slow, pensive red. She had not planned to kill that night.

“You are more deserving of the name,” she murmured to the corpse. Yes. The Scythe of Vezarine. Had he lived, had his aim been true, perhaps it might have been so. Perhaps it might have been better for them both, if a new legend had been born from these ashes.

Something like an invisible chain tightened around her neck, heavy and cold. She turned away from the corpse to face the smouldering city.

He should have stayed inside.

#wip whenever #original fiction #stonebreakerseries #(but not really)#i need a TITLE HJKFDHSKJL #reluctant writes #thank you for the tag <3 #and for sharing your words!

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kat-hawke · 3 years

Text

Descried

(Following [Found])

Sprawled across the surface of the desk as the echoes of the wall clock ticked away with every passing second. The bottle of whiskey emptied long ago, knocked to its side by the outstretched arm, the accompanying glass still ensnared within Kat's fingers as she lay face down upon books of dark knowledge. Exhaustion winning the battle, she fell asleep in the middle of her studies.

The pinch of shadow-laced pain startled Kat into waking, knocking the bottle to the floor in the process. Her left hand locked up with shadowy wisps as Seraanna's voice penetrated the blissful silence.

"He… is found."

"Where?" The Director responded without hesitation, the mental clutch of the void-tainted pearl within the mind strong enough to choke the light from the Cathedral.

"...beyond Lakeshire, within the ruined keep." Seraanna's tone was less - distinct - than it been in their days-earlier contact.

"Do not allow the wards to deceive you," the shadow-laced thoughts continued, "they exist only to dissuade and are weak before the determined."

The elf paused, and Kat took the opportunity to remove the hair from her eyes and close the various books on her desk. A pocket mirror used to check her complexion, sneering at the void-tainted left eye.

"Another has found him and was slain by his hand." Seraa continues. "Your Grimm knows he has been seen, but I feel it is other than righteous... force that he suspects."

Within her fingers, the mirror snapped shut and tossed into an upper drawer.

"He has never taken an apprentice or pupils throughout the years. Minions and lackeys that worship him as a cult, sure, but..." Kat's thought trailed off, mulling over the new information.

"Elaborate," her tone sounded more of an instruction than an inquiry to do so.

"I offer my aid, but I am not yours to command," Seraa gently reminded with a faintly amused tone.

"The other presented himself as more - an equal. Seeking an ally? Advantage? He laughed as Uvexius took his life, the soul abdicating as if - expected. My own Sight was then noted, but I have evaded greater eyes."

"Grimm may think he has been seen; but neither I nor the other could be mistaken for harbingers of the Alliance."

"Interesting..." Kat overlooks the gentle reminder and focuses on the details of interest.

"Doubtful Grimm would see any as an equal, nor would he wish to change deities- assuming he has one. This renovation has lasted years, and not even the Cult of the Damned are seen near him."

She stood from the desk and was pacing from wall to wall now. The thumb was circling the side of her forefinger in the air before her chest as her eyes shifted over the floorboards.

"Then your efforts are made simpler. No other minds of note, nor acolytes or worshippers. Only the dull thoughts of the risen dead, and Grimm within his lair littered with word and formulae and parts for his crafting."

As their exchange lengthened, Kat's senses began to shift, picking up subtle details of Seraanna's environment as she spoke. Her pacing paused to run one hand over the back of the other arm as if she could feel the armchair where the elf was nested. This new development sparked concern and discomfort, shifting her focus to curtailing the blooming connection, nearly missing the rest of Seraa's offered insight.

"Yet if it is that he feels threat, either of his slain visitor or of my own Sight, then how might he act? Is he one to bide his time, or to act all the sooner and more fiercely?" The priestess' mind seemed to ask the question of herself as much as Kat. "A conundrum for the Director's discernment. Mmm, Kat?"

The direct use of her name came like a snap of fingers to the face, and attention shifted back to the telepathic conversation.

"He has always been...unpredictable in such regards. Ranging from leveling entire homes to going aground for months. I'm willing to wager on him remaining on his current path. All things considered."

"You have your quarry then. The aid which you asked, granted. And I? I am here, in distant retreat."

The sense of the study flourished again briefly, obviously at the forefront of Seraanna's thoughts.

"I will require rest before I make my return, Kat. Unless it is that passage awaits me in nearby port? The village below has offered adequate welcome, though I fear I am an uncommon visitor. But this? This room is comfort enough. I will rest here."

Kat's jaw clenched at the mention of the village, teeth grinding in anger as the elf admitted to wandering beyond the walls of the study. An unpredicted complication, one she assumed would evolve into a problem as the isolated hamlet did not know the Ren'dorei.

"It's a week at sea," she answered, "more if the weather fights. You will find no passage in the port."

The study's ambient sense receded in a calm quiet, replaced by the sensation of vast waters, still and dark, between them.

"Did you believe I would merely fade into some convenient shadow when your task was complete?" came the soft question. "Three full nights have I extended my Sight at your asking. Broken only by rest upon a couch in a room without doors, and a single meal purchased with my own coin from the village below."

The waters of Seraana's mind remained still and dark. "Sanctuary was asked, not exile. And I am no other's tool to be carelessly discarded once my usefulness is past."

"Do not begrudge mere rest, Kat."

"Oh, there very well is a door," Kat sneered in a raw form of sarcasm.

"Rest is not what vexes me, Seraanna, nor did I believe you do without. You wanted sanctuary, and it was granted. Venturing into the village was not part of the agreement. You are no exile; this is not Silvermoon. If additional stipulations were required, you needed only to ask. I am not at fault for what you did or did not negotiate."

"Neither, dear Kat, was such forbidden. Do not fault me," Seraa echoed, "for stipulations, you failed to place."

In the physical realm, Kat scoffed and rolled her eyes in frustration. To be challenged in such a way was uncommon as she became familiar with many folding beneath her ire, intimidated into submission.

With a deep breath, the frustration subsided, and a faint smile touched the Director's lips. Her eyes focused on a tiny hourglass at the corner of the desk, where dark matter swirled within the lower chamber.

"Smarter than you look," Kat conceded, "something I am not accustomed to these days."

"I find that I am often estimated poorly. The elf," an echo of distaste from Seraa in the term, "with her whispered words and placid demeanor. Certainly she is some wilting flower, in need of another's strong arm and sharp blade." Amusement rippled across the calm.

"It is not without use."

"Are we agreed, then?" Seraanna circled back.

"Agreed?" Kat repeated. "I never contested your desire to remain and rest, only disapproved of the journey to the village below."

"Unless you mean the implication that men think women to be delicate beings in need of saving when we manage fine without them? In which case, yes, we are agreed."

"And of my own case, no few women," Seraa casually amended. "Though the pattern does tend as you describe it."

"Then tell me where I might find a warm meal, and I shall avoid your further disapproval. And that somewhere you possess wine, and not only this wretched whiskey."

"Seeks wine but calls the whiskey wretched?" Kat mocked with humor. "Deplorable, to seek smashed and rotted grapes...but as you wish. The villagers have already been made aware of your presence, and if you care that much for Gilnean cuisine, then help yourself. There is also the manor in which you are currently within. The choice of food will be much the same as the tavern but better in quality."

"The door that opens to nothing, Kat?" Seraanna questioned. "I might open a rift from the study to the ground seen below, and knock at the manor door. But I am uncertain if any would answer, no matter give welcome to one such as I knocking unexpected."

Reaching out to pluck the hourglass as the elf spoke, Kat turned the instrument over in her fingers, watching as the dark energy within rushed through the bottleneck into the empty bottom half. Remaining silent and focused as Seraanna resumed the conversation without pause.

"And be assured. I did not speak of from where I came, nor did I enter the village from the direction of the manor. Although the matron at the inn," Seraa remarked with another faded ripple of amusement, "proclaimed me the most interesting thing she had seen in three moons."

Silence fell across the connection now, and Kat waited, a single finger tapping on the desktop as she stared at the hourglass. Nearly a minute passed before the shadows within the glass vessel dissipated, and the sensation of fright pulled on a distant thread within her soul.

The corner of painted lips lifted in a smirk as the Ren'dorei found what she requested.

"Try not to scare the child. She is not fortified as you and I. Her mind is...delicate."

The hourglass spun over again yet remained empty. As if she waited for it to fill on its own accord.

"I am no stranger... to delicate things," Seraa murmured across the dark waters of their connection.

Kat pursed her lips with a quick arch in her brow before severing the tether between them. The arrangement was now becoming a calculated gamble with unpredictable outcomes, a risk she found herself willing to take to foster trust.

( @longveil )

#ic #rp #Sharpened Void #| Storming Scourge |

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tarithenurse · 4 years

Text

Stolen - 5

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson &/x fem!gifted!reader Content: Angst, threats, creepiness. A/N: Have some hugs!

5. The Beautiful People

... Reader ...

Loki hadn’t lied when he had foreshadowed a turn in events within days.

“Put this on.” He tosses a bundle of mixed fabrics at your face.

It’s a struggle to figure out what goes where as you untangle the silk and organza before you can see that it’s a dress fit for Lord of the Rings LARPing. “You gotta be -”

“I’m not. Now put. It. On.”

An awkward silence follows where both of you wait for the other to do something, but eventually the god groans in annoyance and points to the bathroom door as if you could trust having a minimum of privacy even there as long as he remains in the room. Still, you oblige.

Stripping down to your underwear, you slide your arms into the cascading sleeves, already loving the smooth feeling of the white inner layer. It tickles as you pull the dress over your head and allow it to fall into place, but the lovely feeling evaporates when you look in the mirror. A white tent with soft green mosquito net over it, your mind objects sarcastically. Perhaps it would pretty on someone else? The wide cut barely holds on to the shoulders, making you feel naked even if the dress covers decently otherwise. Add a lack of makeup or elf-like hair and it’s obvious that this must be Loki’s way of grinding you further into the dust of self-loathing. No amount of silvery embellishment at the seams can change your mind.

Speaking off the captor, his voice cuts through the door at that moment. “If you do not hasten, you’ll regret it.”

I already regret everything. Opening the door, you shuffle out to him with your head held low.

... Loki ...

Though not unpleasant, the sensation of a tiny warm spark in his chest startles the former prince of Asgard when he lays eyes upon his prisoner. Intriguing, as she has been since he first learned of her existence, [Y/N] is not supposed to be anything else than a tool in his plan yet her countenance has appeared unbidden in his mind at the most inconvenient of times lately and now...now a softness towards the woman is taking hold within Loki.

Displeased with himself, he refocuses. “Lift your arms.”

She does, granting him access to tie a silver sash around her waist. As he finishes the knot, he lingers to enjoy [Y/N]’s fragrance and the sound of her speeding breathing, a tempo which he involuntarily adopts and follows as cold fingers play with her hair. One more detail. With a twist of hand, the Jotun reaches into a pocket realm to pluck out a thin, silver tiara – nothing more than a circlet, really, fashioned to the likeness of a snake with emerald eyes. Once in place, Loki hums in approval.

“One might even think you weren’t simply a mortal.” Of course, she doesn’t seem to believe him but merely keeps her gaze on their feet. “Ah, yes...you must go barefoot. Your instructions are simple, my pet, you shall -” he continues, calmly circling her –”do exactly as I say: speak only when spoken to, pretend your presence and task is of your own free will while letting any and all decisions fall to me who must remain at your side throughout this quest. Furthermore, you will heal the priestess. Failing to do any of these things will result not only in your own punishment but also in the death of those you care about. I have sent Arox to Midgard, your Earth, with instructions to kill in two days from now unless I personally retract the order. Do not test me. You will fail.”

[Y/N] is fighting to keep her poise, eyes brimming with tears she is too stubborn to allow to fall – a willpower Loki finds echoed in the set of her jaw and the teeth biting into that perfect bottom lip. A single sniffle escapes before she dries her eyes with the back of her hands.

“Let’s get it over with, then.” There isn’t even a hint of a tremble in her voice.

Deciding not to say a word at risk of betraying how impressed he is, Loki reaches once more into the other realm and retrieves the priceless cube he escaped from New York with. Even after all the pain and trouble, he knows the importance of keeping it out of reach of his former “master” - it is as vital to his plans as [Y/N] is.

Bending his will to resonate with the Tessaract, a shimmering bauble of indigo swallows them and spits them out a second later. Loki is familiar with this way of travelling whereas the woman stumbles slightly. Grabbing her by the upper arm, the Jotun straightens her and locks her in place next to him.

“Smile,” he orders with a whisper, and right on time too. From all sides the sound of running feet hails the arrival of the temple guards.

... Reader ...

Survival instinct dictates paying attention to people with weapons aimed at you but honestly, your eyes would be glued to these people either way. Woah. They are... Your brain wriggles to find a proper label only to come up empty and dazed by the view.

Every single person is different from the next while still being the epitome of perfection: godly toned bodies, ideal skin, lustrous hair. There is even a sort of glow that you thought strictly belonged to anime characters rather than actual flesh and blood humans. Humanoids. On second look, you do notice features fit for fantasy novels. My life has turned into a sci-fi-fantasy! Too bad the cold presence of Loki standing next to you is a strong reminder this isn’t a pretty story waiting to be enjoyed.

Words are shouted. Loki replies calmly, a soothing balm which seeps into the voices as a conversation carries on while you stand there lost, waiting for a cue.

“Sweet [Y/N].” Loki finally turns to you. “Explain to the kind people of Alfheim what you hope to accomplish.”

His eyes hold a warning only you can see. Cold, hard, like precious stones cutting through your soul easily because they have been sharpened with knowledge that he, this so-called god, is mad enough to do exactly as he has threatened.

So of course you readjust your lips into a sweet smile. “I am here to lend my skills and heal the Priestess.”

The chorus of sing-song voices is the only proof that your announcement has been well received until they signal for you and Loki to follow them.

For the first time, the surroundings begin to stand out as if the place didn’t even exist before. Fresh lines and curves shape arches reaching for the heavens – without the dark weight from the Gothic architecture of Earth – with wide windows and doors giving every wall an airy aesthetic. Marching along the hallways of the building, its grandeur is evident in the glittery stones it seems carved from, cool under your bare feet. Crystals are hung from the ceilings, catching the natural light and amplifying it...but not fracturing it into the shards of rainbows you would expect at home. Passing niches, you catch glimpses of golden statues of serene men and women, the metal somehow softened by potted plants that are leaning in as if to hug the figures.

“Do not gawk.” Loki’s voice is enough to bring your spirits down just as they were beginning to take flight at the wonders around you.

You had expected to be brought directly to the priestess and for the agonizing wait before Loki’s verdict of your cooperation to be over as soon as possible. Instead, you’re brought to a grand room with chaise-lounges and poufs scattered over a mix-match of soft carpets where you are told to wait. Servants come and go with fresh fruits and golden wine which you can’t stomach any of despite your abductor’s gleeful enjoyment of it all – all you can do is to walk about in a daze for the fear that you will fail.

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beautyandthewarcanons · 3 years

Text

Echo's Beacon: Part Seven

[You can read part six here! All BATW & DTTR characters belong to @poisonappletales ! ❤]

In the lounge, some of the group reclined after finishing breakfast. Jasmine and Rosemary entered the room after cleaning up, taking a seat on one of the couches. Jasmine glanced over to see Night sitting in an armchair, and he gave her a nod. Unknown was sprawled out in another chair, watching the room.

"Ambrosia, darling... won't you come sit with me?" He practically sang.

"No thank you, Sir Unknown. That chair is for a single occupant." She replied.

"You could always sit on my lap." He grinned, widening his legs. Thankfully, he was wearing sweatpants.

"She said no." Arsenik said firmly, glancing at the other man sharply. "You'll treat her with more respect."

Unknown turned his head a bit. "Perhaps if princess Jasmine sat upon her 'Night' in shining armour... Ambrosia and I could have more room on the couch."

Jasmine straightened up then. "Certainly not. That's improper."

"Besides, he doesn't even like her like that!" Rosemary exclaimed ignorantly.

"Hm... they did spend quite some time on the porch last night. It was a chilly evening... perfect for warming each other up..." Unknown slowly leaned forward. Ambrosia glanced over at Night warily as Jasmine quickly shot up, about to excuse herself.

"Don't run, little raven. I'm talking to you." Unknown smirked. "So... what's the story? Did you kiss under the moonlight? Did you hold him in a caress? Did you-"

"I don't think she's the type that kisses and tells." Night surprisingly cut him off. "May as well give it up, Unknown."

"But you did go see him, didn't you? The first night." Unknown asked.

"Sir Unknown, for the last time, I am not an improper woman. I needed some air from the grief my cousin was giving me. It was during that time I heard lady Kara in distress." Jasmine answered, exasperated.

"What?! I was giving you grief?! YOU were being mean!" Rosemary shouted.

"Because you're ridiculous." Jasmine snapped.

"So it's perfectly alright for lady Kara to have nightmares but I'm not allowed to be afraid of thunder?!"

"I'm not saying lady Kara's behavior patterns are any better. Typically, lady Ambrosia takes on the burden of easing lady Kara's nightly outbursts." Jasmine explained.

"But lady Jasmine, she can't help it. She's had these night terrors since she was little." Ambrosia chimed in.

"She's not a little girl anymore. Both she and lady Rosemary need to grow out of the past already."

"And all of you need to be quiet already." Wind finally spoke up. "Seriously, how can you stand to do so much talking?"

"I have to grow up?! I have more maturity in one finger than you do in your whole body!" Rosemary crossed her arms.

"That couldn't be further from the truth. You do have a great deal of hot air stored in that head of yours, though." Jasmine snapped.

"Yep, I'm out of here." Wind sighed, leaving the room as the pair of Phoenix women continued their bickering.

Back on the grounds, I entered the barn, the door creaking as I looked around the old structure. Withered hay was spread about on the ground, covering the wooden slats beneath. Along the wall were some old tools and equipment, rust covering a good majority of them. I turned, walking along some of the closed horse stables. There was no sign of life in here- however, I spotted something on the far end of the barn. A long, worn trenchcoat hung on the wall by a single hook. I slowly made my way over, extending a hand to feel the somewhat tattered material.

Just then, I heard something from behind me clatter to the ground, looking over my shoulder to see a pitchfork had fallen off the wall. I furrowed a brow, about to go over there to pick it up-

One of the horse stable doors burst open, a sudden bellowing shout making me fall. I scrambled back, my eyes shut tight as I screamed. The shouting quickly transitioned to laughter, my eyes popping open to see Brooks and Wildfire tossing off their rugged disguises. More worn trenchcoats were discarded on the ground as I shakily got to my feet.

"Well, looks like we found it!" Brooks exclaimed.

"Yup. A big, scared, chicken." Wildfire smirked.

When I finally comprehended what was happening, confusion and fear switched to anger. "Are you insane?!" I shouted then. "This is what you brought me here for, to scare the crap out of me?"

"Better than bringing US to this place to bore us to death." Wildfire let her head sway to the side. "See? You said make the best of it, and we just did." Wildfire pat my shoulder firmly. "Thanks for the laughs."

My feet were planted where I stood as she shoved past me. "Hey, come on! Live a little, will ya?" Brooks nudged me as she followed her friend. I continued to breathe heavily, my brows furrowed as I tried to recover from the humiliating incident without success.

Inside the manor, Wind sighed to himself as he traversed through one of the corridors. Never again, he thought to himself. Not even Ambrosia was going to convince him to go on another group trip. He would give anything right now to be back home, among the trees, the serene silence-

He stopped when a sound reached his ears.

It was soft, subtle, but not beyond escaping the detection of an Imugi. He turned to face the wall, staring at one of the dark wood panels as he growled lowly. His eyes narrowed, his upper lip retracting in a low snarl. His yellow eyes glistened with alertness as he pressed an ear against the wall.

Just as he was tuning his hearing, chatter from the other side of the corridor neared.

"I won fair and square, Trold- just admit it." Viktor boasted.

"You just got lucky, Hulder! I'll beat you next time!" Chase clenched his teeth.

"I'll believe it when I see it. In the meantime, I'll take my claim as master of darts, thank you very much!" Viktor smirked, moving ahead of Chase as he seethed.

As Chase rounded the corner, he noticed the pair of Valkyrie coming toward him, laughing as they passed by. Shrugging, he continued on to see Wind standing in the middle of the hall.

"Oh, hey pal!" Chase perked up, the Imugi groaning in annoyance.

"Don't any of you know how to be quiet for five minutes?" Wind spat.

Just then, I appeared in the corridor, disappearing just as quickly into my room as I shut the door firmly behind me.

"Hey, she seems pretty upset. Do you think she's okay?" Chase asked.

"How should I know?" Wind replied. "If you want to find out, no one's stopping you."

"Yeah... you're right." Chase smiled, and Wind growled lowly when the Trold pat his back. "Thanks, Wind."

As Chase left him, Wind sighed when he didn't detect anything behind the wall anymore. He moved a few steps closer to a door, opening it as he peered upon a flight of stairs descending into a dark basement. Grumbling to himself, he shut the door, shaking his head as he walked away.

I walked up to the door, opening it to see Chase standing there.

"Hey Chase. Did you need something?" I asked, trying to keep my gaze downcast.

"Well, uh... I saw you just now, and... you seemed upset." He replied.

I shook my head. "I'm fine. I appreciate your concern, though."

"Hey... come on, you can talk about it. I know the others have been kind of rough." He insisted. I lingered for a moment before turning, leaving the door open to let him in. He went to close the door behind him, but it ricocheted a bit, remaining slightly ajar.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor as I felt him sit beside me. "Chase... so you think I'd fit in with any of the clans on Virgo Island?"

He thought for a moment. "Well, you're not royalty, so the Vi wouldn't take you... unless you decided to join Barium's harem. You... don't want to do that, do you?" I shook my head. "Thought so. Don't tell him I said that. I may not like him, but I don't want him sending Onyx after me."

I couldn't help but grin a little. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Hm... you don't have healing blood, so you wouldn't make a very good Phoenix. N- Not that your blood isn't fine the way it is. The Hulder... just, no. The Valkyrie... I mean, you are a girl-"

"No."

"Hm?"

"I wouldn't fit in with them."

"Why not?"

"... I would be the butt end of their joke."

"Hey... why'd you say that?" He glanced my way.

"I'm sure they're bragging to everyone how they scared me senseless this morning down by the barn."

"That's why you're upset." Chase frowned. A few moments of silence elapsed. Chase extended an unsure hand, finally resting it on my back. I glanced over at this, and he drew me a bit closer, his arm hugging my shoulders. "You know..." He started. "... you wouldn't make for a very good Trold, either. My brothers and sisters wouldn't let you hear the end of it if you tried." I tried to move away at that, but he stopped me. "But... then you wouldn't be you, anyway."

I looked over at him as he said this. "Maybe you're right. But... being me has its disadvantages."

"Maybe. You don't have any special powers as a human. But... I like you anyway." Chase said.

I rolled my eyes. "Gee, thanks."

"Maybe you don't need to fit in with a whole clan. I mean... man, I'm bad at this." Chase scratched the back of his head.

As we spoke, Arsenik was making his way along the corridor. He stopped for a moment, able to see Chase and I through the crack in the door. Thinking it rude to eavesdrop, he continued on.

"Sometimes I have trouble articulating how I feel, too." I said.

"Art... tickling? Huh?" Chase asked.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Articulating. It's something like... properly expressing."

"Oh, right. I hate when Hulder use big fancy words like that. They go out of their way to make me feel dumb. Like that Viktor."

I cringed a bit. "How'd your dart game go?"

"I lost." He grumbled. After a moment, the corner of his lips poked into a mischievous grin. "You know what might cheer us both up?"

"What's that?" I asked.

"Art tickling." Chase grinned.

"... Huh?" I rose a brow.

In the lounge, Arsenik had found Ambrosia, the pair having a pleasant conversation. However, it was soon interrupted when Wildfire and Brooks entered, Viktor wincing as he sat in one of the other armchairs.

"Heya! Got some room for us?" Brooks laughed as Wildfire crashed on the couch on the other side of Arsenik. The Hulder straightened uncomfortably, instinctively taking Ambrosia's hand.

"Forgive me." He mouthed to her. She didn't shy away, clearing her throat as she placed her other hand on Arsenik's arm.

"Sir Arsenik, perhaps I could show you some of the juices I found in the kitchen? An afternoon drink may suit you-"

"What's the rush?" Wildfire asked, rolling her head to the side to look at Arsenik. Her arm slung around his shoulders, Arsenik stiffening even more.

"Miss Wildfire. Please take your arm off of me." He requested firmly.

"Why? I can't give it a rest after all the exercise I got this morning?" She asked.

"Get off of me!!!" Viktor suddenly exclaimed as Brooks draped herself sideways over the armchair, seated in his lap as her legs hung over one of the arm rests.

"Well, y' weren't making any room for me, stud!" Brooks threw her head back, laughing.

Just then, Unknown wandered into the room. "Someone's getting lucky." He chuckled.

"Lucky?!" Viktor exclaimed. "Why don't you be useful and help me get her off!"

"You're the one who's supposed to be getting off, silly boy." Unknown laughed.

"How can I when she's sitting on me?!" Viktor whined. "Arsenik, do something!"

"Excuse me." He grasped Ambrosia's hand before she could protest anything going on around her, leaving the room. Wildfire watched them leave, her jaw rigid as she clenched and unclenched the hand she just had around Arsenik's shoulders.

"What- I meant help me, not leave-" Viktor grunted in frustration. "Unknown, why don't you take her off my hands, this is your sort of pleasure isn't it?!"

"Mmm... it would be nice... but it's also entertaining to watch you squirm." He smirked.

"You really are a disturbed individual!" Viktor exclaimed as he tried to maneuver Brooks off him.

"Someone's getting grabby, huh?" Brooks giggled. Wildfire rolled her eyes, letting her head fall back.

I fell back on the plush mattress in a fit of giggles as Chase tickled my sides. After a few moments, I felt the sensation cease, blinking my eyes open to see him staring down at me. His gaze seemed to be lost for a moment before he returned to the moment, clearing his throat and helping me to sit upright. His hands remained on my shoulders for a moment.

"Well, I think you were right. That seemed to cheer both of us up." I remarked.

"Yeah... it did." He smiled.

"And to make you feel better... I think you won that tickle fight." I added.

"I thought it was art tickling." He replied. "It didn't feel like we were fighting."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. I was about to get up when Chase beat me to it. He opened the door, his face souring a bit when Barium stood there.

"Oh. Hello Chase. Isn't this Kara's room?"

"I'm here." I spoke up, Chase moving aside as I approached from behind.

"I'm... not interrupting anything... am I?"

"No, we were just talking. What's up?" I asked.

"Well, Bo wanted me to ask if you wanted to bake something with her. She's with Ambrosia and Arsenik in the kitchen. We owe you a treat for being so kind to her."

"Oh, sure. I'll join." At this, Chase bit his lip, annoyed.

"Say... are you alright? Were you crying?" Barium frowned. Chase grit his teeth as Barium instinctively tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Thanks your- uh, Barium... I'm fine. Chase was talking to me just now and that helped." At this, the Trold glanced over, his smile returning.

In the kitchen, Ambrosia smiled as Bo giggled, the pair of women kneading some dough. Arsenik smiled lightly, noticing a stray helix of hair hanging along the side of Ambrosia's face. As he made his way to her, Barium returned, entering the kitchen with Chase and I.

"Miss Ambrosia, allow me..." He extended a hand, tucking the strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hey, Ambrosia!" Chase said with a wave.

I stopped for a moment, noticing the small gesture Arsenik had made before remembering to smile. "Ah, sir Chase, lady Kara. Thank you for bringing them, your highness. I had been missing my sister today." Ambrosia beamed, and my smile grew warmer.

"Good afternoon, miss Kara. Are you faring well?" Arsenik asked.

"Yeah... I'm doing fine. How are you?" I replied.

"Quite well, thank you." He nodded lightly. He glanced over at Chase for a moment. "Miss Ambrosia had been wondering where you went off to."

"I've... been around." I nodded, my gaze cast toward the floor.

"Kara! Come help us make some bread!" Bo chirped, and I snickered when I saw she had some flour on her face.

To be continued...

#beautyandthewar #poisonappletales #beauty and the war x playing pieces #beauty and the war #donttakethisrisk #ambrosia #dont take this risk #arsenik #unknown #horror #suspense #fanficton

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thecandywrites · 4 years

Text

Of Heaven and Fire Part 7

Woo, do we have more characters to introduce you to. Ok, obviously- upper right is inside a hurricane, now imagine more angel looking creatures flying on the inside of it, all of them glittering like gold and diamonds and pearls. Upper middle ish- what a moura mark looks like- now imagine it gold, and at the base of your skull where your head meets your neck. Yes it takes up most of the back of your neck. Yes each one is very intricate and henna styled but different and unique among individuals, like a fingerprint. Ok, once that chain and cuff came off, that silkver rope thing was still there, tied similarly to that, but invisable and while Benyana could feel the effects of it, she couldn’t physically feel it tied around her. Upper right- Benyana.

Now for the guys underneath those pictures. From left to right, Crown Prince Cordene, the son of Crown Prince Delmal who we met in the last part. Next to/ the right of/ him- Lord Suriel, Remiel’s apprentice in the royal court of the crystal angels. to his right, the Lord Ralitar- a minor prince, tasked with finding Benyana, we’ll get to know him later and next to him is the fae Prince Matae. And then if you’ve ever seen Sinbad where Eris pulls Sinbad under the water and how HUGE she is at first- yeah, grandma.

Now the last row- Prince Oriles, think little mermaid but...higher fantasy-ier? And more creature-ish (I know those aren’t really words.) and of course Benyana as a siren, then we have the next to are sirens/mermen who were totally part of that orgy. and last but not least- Brock. He’s so outmanned and outgunned it aint even funny. Luckily our girl is on his side. Caution, the next few parts are gonna be that carcrash that collided with a dumpster fire. It’s gonna get MESSY. I can’t wait. Now, go get some popcorn and/or twinkies and some wine, or any other beverage you prefer.

Also this is going to be relavent- (I’m sorry that gif looks like it’s having a siezure but it’s all I have)

Tagging @probablyclever @imherefortheforthefanart @funmadnessandbadassvikings and if anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know.

Of Heaven and Fire

Part 7

You woke up to Brock pressing soft kisses into the crown of your head as his arms were wrapped comfortably around you as your body was still pressed up against his. His warmth radiating off of him and seeping into you until you were positively saturated with it and felt it in every inch of you.

“Good morning.” He purred when you woke up, a smile blooming on your face as you stretched out before you relaxed fully against him once more.

“Good morning.” You mirrored, a lazy, sleepy but still sated smile on your lips before he dipped his head down and kissed you good morning, a kiss you returned as you were once again relieved that he was ok, he was safe and sound and having him this close made you feel happy, you could protect him as long as he was near you, the closer the better as you reached around him and started to scratch his back.

“Oh, oh, that feels glorious.” He praised as he gently scooched you back to lay on his belly so you could access all of his back as you giggled and obliged, scratching all over before you moved up and moved his thick braids away from the back of his neck before you were met with a golden tattoo on the back of his neck which made you pause.

All mouras were born with a golden tattoo on the base of their skull where their heads met their necks, usually over an eighth vertebra in their neck since moura’s had naturally long and graceful necks like any proper bird, usually their moura cloak originated from this mark, it was unique like a fingerprint and their moura cloak would have a golden design on it that matched this mark exactly and when the moura cloak laid over this, the moura cloak would stay active, but- if a moura cloak were taken off, and perhaps buried, there was a gold piece of metal, that looked like a metal collar of a dress shirt that would remain once the actual feathers rotted away. A moura cloak could be revived and grow out again IF it was reattached to the wearer and you would bet your life that there was a gold collar belonging to him in TriKeng’s estate, either buried in his garden or in a jewelry box or something, he must have hundreds of them by now, stored away because the gold collars are otherwise indestructible, impossible to melt down or hammer apart or destroyed by any means. The other way to revive it was to be born again in the ashes then the collar would turn to dust wherever it was and reappear on you after you were reborn.

“I see you found my birthmark.” He noted, his voice muffled by your pillow before you traced the pattern, happy he couldn’t see your bittersweet face as you did so.

“Are you the only one in your family with it?” You asked, forcing your tone to be casual as you traced it, it was a gorgeous mark and it complemented his green skin incredibly well before you wrapped your hands around his neck and massaged it, giving yourself to opportunity to feel the vertebrae in his neck as he moaned out a pleasured groan, counting the vertebrae in his neck and counting down from his skull. One... two... three... four... five... six... seven...and eight and you forced yourself not to cry. What a different life he and his family could have had if TriKeng hadn’t been a selfish purist as you realized if TriKeng had actually allowed his mother and her sister in the colony, and welcomed orcs in, you would have grown up with him. He would have absolutely been your friend, possibly a childhood sweetheart and all this mess would have never happened. All because of TriKeng who was the real enemy in all this. You had to figure out a way to get Brock and his family the justice they deserved.

“No, all my siblings and my cousins have a mark like it, but not exactly.” He answered. “But in my clan it’s only my mother and her sister and their children who have it,.” He revealed.

“It’s beautiful.” You praised in a low murmur.

“Thanks.” He smiled as you made a mental note not to let him see yours.

“I noticed last night your tattoos glowed…” You prompted as you traced them over his body before you got to his side which made him squirm, he must have been ticklish which gave you a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, they’ve been doing that a lot lately, it’s honestly, really weird and it freaks most people out.” He answered honestly as you hummed thoughtfully as you realized all those merpeople, that’s what they found most entertaining, is to see you light up as you realized, if anything you were just a passing distraction and fling to them, which you were ok with. Honestly they were that to you too and frankly you didn’t care if you ever saw them again or not. It had been a fun evening, a wild night- that was for sure. But one that you didn’t want or need repeated now that Brock had effectively rocked your world right.

“I noticed your marks do the same, is it a moura thing?” He asked.

“Not necessarily, lots of species have bioluminescence, does it ever hurt for them to light up?” You asked thoughtfully.

“No, actually it feels good.” He answered.

“Good.” You nodded.

“So why do yours light up?” He asked as he turned to look at you which made you smile bashfully as a deep blush dusted your cheeks.

“Well they light up when we heal, as a siren though they were always on, which was nice because deeper water is really dark.” You deflected.

“And obviously when you have sex.” Brock pointed out, bringing you right back to the point.

“They do, but that in itself can be a downside. You grow up seeing your parents room light up a lot and once you’re old enough to understand what’s going on it can be embarrassing and keep you up at night, your older siblings when they reach sexual maturity get sexually frustrated easily and the only thing that can keep the light out is heavy furs which in the summertime is inconvenient because you’re already hot and especially when there is already so many of you sharing a room, you start to get snappy with each other and most in the colony have special doors and shutters on their windows to keep the light in so the whole neighborhood can keep their nose out of your business and apartments with these light proof rooms go for quite a bit of money.” You explained.

“Like how much money?” He asked curiously.

“Well, moura money is in silver, in a colony where everyone can turn everything into gold, moura gold is nothing- that’s what you give the merchants and outsiders, silver and copper is what you use with everyone else in the colony and what you ask for in change from the merchants, true gold however is rare and especially precious and of course hoarded whenever possible. So a decent apartment with the light features goes for about 500 silver ryal a month.” You answered.

“So what’s the difference between moura gold and true gold?" He asked.

“Moura gold behaves like wet clay in the hands of a moura, true gold doesn’t, all merchants think that moura coins are minted to be disks that are slightly curved and printed with a finger print.” You answered as you grabbed a seashell that was used to decorate the wall and turned it to gold and then smooshed it like wet clay and made yourself your own moura gold coin that was slightly curved like your thrumb before you gave it to him and held your breath to see if he had that ability without his cloak as he took it and tried to bend it with his teeth but it wouldn’t budge which made you blow out a silent breath of relief after he gave it back and settled back onto his belly so you could keep scratching his back.

“So that’s why most couples choose to build their own house, carving a place out in the mountain sides and engineering a way to get water into it by pumps and pipes so that each home has plumbing, both to bring water into the house and waste out of it and to catch rain water, a feat made easy since you can buy all the tools and materials from merchants for moura gold which they have no idea is any different and I would greatly appreaciate it if you kept this a secret, mouras can lose everything if this is found out.” You urged him.

“On my honor, I won’t tell a soul.” He vowed which two weeks ago you would have made a snappy comeback to but now, it gave you relief and comfort to hear.

“So with all that considered it’s much cheaper to build a house than it is to rent one, but the location of the house is just as important as the size or kind it is. Houses close to the markets are prime realestate so you don’t have to drag or carry your goods home since most of the passages are too thin for a cart but are ok for a wheelbarrows. The colonies have sectors because many different kinds of moura can make up a colony and so the royal moura who leave the courts to live with us, each court has its own aesthetic and they still like to settle in the part of the city that reminds them of home and each areas compete to see who can build the prettiest buildings or people compete to see who can build the prettiest houses or most decorated areas of town. Usually the bigger the house- the more kids you want and some want to get as far away from their parents as possible and some want to stay as close as possible but mostly location matters if you want to set up a shop, most places, the bottom floor is the shop and the upper floors are the house and moura’s number 1 product is food, food of all kinds there’s entire centers that are hawker centers near the heart of the city where you can go and get dumplings and noodles from the orient- curries from the spice district or all these different kinds of ales from a brewery or even colony specific foods because each colony has it’s own unique dishes it created upon it’s being built, that’s why merchants come from far and wide to sell food stuffs and especially spices of all kinds.” You explained.

“So what are your preferences for food?” He asked.

“Honestly I love it all, but I gotta say seafood is really high up there, that crab and those scallops and shrimp especially” You answered with a fond smile which he returned as his face turned towards you.

“So what’s your preference for a house?” He asked thoughtfully. Oh. Oh gods. Fuck. Your KNEES just got week and you weren’t even on them as a thought of how magnificent he would look building you a house danced in your head. You wondered if he would ever consider leaving the business of warchief behind to live in Suchi, if he would be happy there. Or would you be happy somewhere else? Perhaps, in his clan, on the lovely river with the sound of the sea always in your ears.

“I don’t know, honestly I like a little bit of everything. But having been away from home, I miss my family like crazy, but being away from them has given me opportunities to experience things I probably never would have. I would have never known I had family in the oceans if I hadn’t been on a boat.” You answered and you could see the guilt Brock tried to cover over in his own expression.

“Wait you have family down there?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, it was my grandma that pulled me from the hold. She lives in a nice cave, she’s lined one of her walls with sunken ships and keeps a really big blind shark as a pet and a volcanic vent in the cave keeps things warm and cozy. And it was she who introduced me to the dragons, Yingshen and Pantaou and they are very much old oriental water dragons, guarding a huge nest of eggs that sits on top of the vents and there are huge, just huge schools of fish that swim around the rich waters and the floor is just crawling with crabs and huge lobsters but because it’s so close to the nest, there’s no way to get at any of them because the eggs themselves are delicate and if a crab pod were to land say on an egg, I’m pretty sure they would damage the egg and those dragons would not hesitate to kill whoever was responsible for putting their fishing stuff over the nest.” You answered.

“So what does your grandma look like?” He asked because he had had the most horrific nightmare last night of a huge siren trying to eat him.

“Oh she’s probably two to three times as big as this ship, if not bigger, the deeper things live and the older they get the bigger they get apparently, although my grandma was the only really big siren I met, all the others were my size but they lived in shallower waters in coral reefs and stuff, of course me coming down there was a big deal because after I made that deal with the water dragons, my grandma took me to meet the rest of the family and I got to meet aunts and uncles and a whole school of cousins and all their friends and they got a clam that is- I shit you not- is as big as this bed and they cut it up for all of us to eat and it was really, really delicious, like I’m pretty sure anyone else would die trying to harvest them but man oh man were they good!” You retold with a fond smile.

“So what made you come back?” He asked.

“Well, actually I had a dream my grandma was trying to eat you for enslaving me and she’s big enough and mad enough right now to do both and I wouldn’t put it past her, like part of me really just wants to get you back to shore as soon as possible and I can not begin to tell you the panic I would feel if you were to leave my side right now, it’s ridiculous.” You explained as he rolled over onto his side to face you to listen attentively to you and his face was just fond and adoring as he considered you. Grateful that your connection was strong enough to share dreams now.

“So what kind of beds do they have down there?” He asked, wanting to avoid the subject of your tethering, hoping that now that it wasn’t on you anymore that you would hopefully never bring it up again and hoping that now that you were no longer tethered, that it would be left in the past and that he would hopefully never have to admit what it really was. The fact that it came off proved that you now loved him. It wouldn’t have come off otherwise. You were his. And that’s all that mattered. Everything would be ok and together the two of you could solve all the problems that came against you as a couple. He would happily build you the biggest and best house in the clan, he would even model it after your own home if it meant you wouldn’t get homesick. He would even follow any and all moura courting rituals to make sure you felt that he did right by you and that you felt he earned your love and affections and respect. This hadn’t been nearly as hard as he thought it was gonna be. Now he was just going to enjoy the fruits of the now established relationship.

“Um really big sea sponges and there was a cloth down there that they used for curtains and stuff and it felt like silk but not quite.” You answered, hoping he wouldn’t ask if you actually slept on one.

“Sea silk.” He explained.

“What’s sea silk?” You asked, hoping to distract him by veering the conversation away from the subject.

“It’s a cloth that the merpeople make, I don’t know how they do it but it washes up on shore a lot but if it dries out, it shatters like dried out kelp but as long as it’s wet and stays wet- it’s fine.” He explained.

“Huh.” You murmured as you stored that away mentally.

“Well it’s good that you were with family, they took care of you, I thought whatever had taken you had eaten you shortly after.” He revealed as he scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you to himself again possessively which you didn’t mind one bit.

“No,” you shook your head. .

“So what kind of house do you want?” He asked and your cheeks blushed harder as your smile got giddy.

“Well I guess that depends,” you began.

“On?” He asked as his nose danced and encircled yours, his lips so torturously close to yours you could almost taste him as you gulped as lust started to haze your senses as your breathing started to labor again.

“What I can build you?” He offered and the thought melted your heart and you couldn’t take it anymore, you kissed him, hard and murmured an ‘uh huh’ in confirmation as your leg hiked over his hip, your core already dripping in anticipation as it grinded down over his hardening cock before it was hard enough to spear you before you rolled him over to ride him, savoring the feeling of being joined with him as your moura marks lit up and pulsed again as you watched as his tattoos did the same while his eyes drank you in and watched as your lower belly bulged ever so slightly again as he started to fantasize what you’d be like pregnant with his child and it nearly sent him over the edge as he grabbed your hips and drove up into you as you had to brace yourself on his chest again, feeling his heart pound under your palm like a steady drum.

“Gods I love you,” Brock professed and you just beamed before you bent over and kissed him hungrily so you wouldn’t have to answer if your mouth was already preoccupied because returning that didn’t feel...completely honest. Now that the shackle wasn’t on you anymore, you could sense you could lie again. at least partially but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be dishonest in this moment. You didn’t want to ruin it and instead you sped up, using every move you had to get him to cum as quickly as possible as your own climax quickly approached as his fingers sunk into your hips, to the point the softness dimpled around his fingertips as he helped move you on him before he rolled you over and really drove into you with much more power than you possessed and it was exactly what you needed to cum, your moura marks getting so bright both of you had to close your eyes to keep you both from going blind.

Once your orgasm finally snapped and flooded you with euphoria and Brock had emptied himself again and you both rested and recovered and basked in the afterglow.

“I love you so much.” He repeated.

“I love you too.” You professed, his bright happy smile making the half truth seem like a whole one as he kissed you sweetly.

“I love you more.” He returned.

“Probably, yeah,” you giggled as he snorted a laugh.

“Well, I’m a patient man, I don’t mind proving it to you every day until your love is as strong as mine.” He insisted.

“That’s gonna be a long time, maybe even a lifetime.” You returned, keeping your tone light and teasing.

“One worth living if it’s with you.” He returned confidently and you hugged him to hide your own guilty expression. Shit. Did you really want to live the rest of your life with him? Would you be happy? Was he really your mate? Well your moura marks shone that it was but right now- you weren’t so sure.

“Ok,” you whispered in his ear as you kissed his cheek and his shoulder and buried all of your doubt before you heard Cugas knock on Brock’s door.

“Brock! Get your ass up! We got a problem!” He hollered.

“What’s wrong?” Brock hollered back. “What the fuck are you doing in Yana’s…” Cugas began before he opened your door to see Brock quickly covering both of you with the blanket and shield your body with his.

“Hey! Hey! Knock bro.” Brock complained as Cugas just stood there, his eyes about to pop out of his head as his jaw hit the floor before he quickly slammed the door shut, splintering the door and the door frame as you and Brock dissolved into giggles before he got off you as your moura cloak became an outfit once more before you wrapped a blanket around himself as he looked at his still sopping wet clothes on the floor.

“Go and get some dry clothes.” You gently urged him before he agreed and took your blanket with him and left your room to see Cugas pacing the hallway about to have a crises as Brock quickly went from your room to his own as you walked over to where the chain had been thrown and picked it up, keeping it away from you just in case it decided to reach out to grab you again like it had a life of it’s own like it was some kind of venemous snake.

“What the hell?” Cugas asked as he came into your room to see you holding the chain as far away from you as you could.

“No way,” Cugas shook his head in disbelief as you laughed mirthlessly.

“So what’s the problem?” You asked.

“Uh, it’s just an entire school of merpeople and selkies and sirens as big as the fleet circling the ship demanding to see you.” Cugas explained.

“Shit, make sure Brock doesn’t go near any windows and doesn’t come to the top deck or he’ll be snatched off the deck and drowned!” You quickly dropped the chain and pushed past him as you rushed down the hall.

“Why?!” Cugas called after you.

“Because they’re really here to kill him!” You answered over your shoulder as you sprouted wings once more and flew out of the first door and flew out of the ship like a bat out of hell before you swam over the water in the eye of the hurricane, watching as everything stopped swimming around the ship and swam so they were under you like a moth to a flame.

“Well that’s the first thing to make sense all morning.” Cugas murmured to himself before Brock came out of his room, barely tucking his shirt into his pants.

“Who’s here to kill me?” He asked before Cugas grabbed him and shoved him into his first mate’s room across the hall on the interior of the ship.

“Everyone apparently.” Cugas answered.

“What are we doing in here?” Brock asked.

“Yana asked me to keep you away from the windows and off the top deck because apparently there’s a giant fucking school of selkies, mermaids and sirens, giant ones, circling the boat that have been demanding to see Yana and right now all the crew is hiding below deck because they will snatch anyone off the deck, I’ve had to knock out several of my crew so didn’t they actually listen to the siren’s song and jump overboard.” Cugas explained as he lit a lantern. “And in the meantime you’re fucking her?! What the fuck?!” Cugas demanded.

“Hey, the cuff came off and she asked me to.” Brock answered, a love drunk haze oh his face as his tattoos started to come alive and pulse again and Cugas could see he was starting to get hard again.

“Yesterday she was ready to set you on fire and today she’s fucking you, what the hell happened between those two points, girls just don’t flip that big of a switch that quick.” Cugas argued disbelievingly.

“Well she met her grandma and met her oceanic family and missed me and had a dream I was in danger and came back.” Brock answered.

“So because she had a bad dream- she came back and forgave you for enslaving her for two weeks and promptly emptied your balls?” Cugas repeated.

“Ew, not like that.” Brock frowned in disgust even though, yes, that was an accurate description of the events.

“Bro, you know I love you like a brother and I have your back, but there is a really, really big piece of the puzzle that’s missing and you’re too love drunk to notice.” Cugas argued.

“Look the shackle is off! That’s proof enough!” Brock argued.

“Well then it’s faulty and broken.” Cugas argued.

“No it’s not!” Brock argued.

“Did she say it? Did she actually say the words ‘I love you’?” Cugas asked.

“Yes!” Brock insisted.

“Did she say it first or did you say it to her and she replied with that?” Cugas asked. “And was your dick in her when she said it? Was she close to orgasm or just had an orgasm? Because you know as well as I do that afterglow makes you say shit you don’t really mean, or better yet, was the shackle on her when she said it?” Cugas pointed out.

“She said it, I believe her, that’s all there is to it!” Brock argued.

“Brock! Bro! Actually think with the brain that’s in your head and not with this.” Cugas said as he slapped at Brock’s hard on as Brock quickly backed up so that he wouldn’t connect with it.

“Bro, something is wrong. I am telling you I feel it in my soul. Something is majorly off and this isn’t adding up! I think she made friends down there and they’re out to do whatever it takes to keep her, she told me to keep you safe which means she knows you’re in danger and is protecting you because even though that tether isn’t physically on her- it’s still active.”

“If that’s the case- she still can’t lie then, so she was telling the truth when she said she loved me.” Brock insisted as Cugas growled in frustration.

“Fine, then believe her, but watch her, let her prove she loves with acts other than sex.” Cugas insisted before he poked his head out of the door and called a crew member to watch Brock so Cugas could go up on deck and see you with his own eyes as he saw you hovering over the surface of the water towards the middle of the eye where the winds and waves were the most calm since there was a current that all the boats stayed in just inside the eye that was traveling with the current of air above it so that meant that one side of the boat had rain and winds while the other had sunshine but a constant breeze in the direction of the hurricane, the water under where you were hovering however was boiling with merpeople as you talked with them before he saw heavenly moura and angels alike flying down from the cyclone and grab you up and fly up into the eye storm and talk to you themselves for a bit as they completely surrounded you before he heard something on the other side of the ship before he turned to see a huge hand come up from the water before it started to reach for him which made him scream which got your attention before you lit up like you were pure fire as you flew across the eye to get to the hand.

“Shit! Grandma no!” You screamed as you dove and collided with the hand, pushing it back the other way until it fell back into the water, leaving a trail of fire in your wake as the hand closed around you before the actual angels dove down into the water before they were swarmed by selkies, merfolk and sirens as Cugas just watched helplessly from the side of his ship, not knowing where to look because obviously it was all out war down there.

“Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck!” He cursed as he got a harpoon and got one of the rowboats ready as he called for his crew to come and help lower him down.

“Captain, you can’t!” They argued.

“Do not disobey my order! Lower me down you can have a mutiny while I’m off the ship!” Cugas roared before they followed his order and lowered him down.

Meanwhile you had flown out to sea, hoping to lure everyone away from the ship, trying to greet them happily as they all clamored for your attention, asking you why you had left.

“I was worried about my friends.” You managed to answer them as they all reached for you but before you could touch any of them, royal heavenly moura and angels came down to you.

“Benyana!” They called making you turn your head up before your angel reflex kicked in again as you felt yourself float up to them as they swarmed you too and flew up with you.

“Yes?” You answered.

“Oh your mother will be most pleased, we must get you home! Your mother came and pleaded to the heavenly moura king to help look for you and you actually came to us! This is the best sign! You’re unharmed, but tethered still.” A young angel said as he came and reached out before an invisible tether glowed around you, it was wrapped and tied around your neck and your body as it suddenly halted you from going any further up into the sky which you were grateful for.

“Wait! Before you take it off, tell me exactly what it is.” You pleaded before the angels inspected it as the heavenly moura inspected your wings, happy to see such a glorious and perfectly symetrical pair you had- gorgeous blue and green shimmering to your feathers showing off your siren heritage as other feathers were shimmering diamond and gold and platinum while all the feathers had opalescent and pearlescent quality to them. I sign of greatness indeed and you were quite gorgeous. Your aesthetic was greater than even their own, and they were royal, supposed to be the most magnificent in the heavens as the young princes grinned at each other, happy that they hadn’t been pressured into marrying anyone yet because that you were obviously a bride worth waiting for, much less fighting for.

“It’s a “truth, love and protection in all things” tether. It keeps you from being dishonest but it’s very weak, here, let us take it off.” They said before the angels pulled at it and it came off and all at once you felt as free as a bird and not tethered anymore and you expected to feel all those affections for Brock reverse but they didn’t. They remained which made you realize that your feelings for him were genuine and wholly your own. “Can I have that back, just in case, it might come in handy later.” You requested before they gave it back to you, now that it was off it was simply a length of silver rope.

“Come, you need to have your angelic ability awakened.” The young angel said before he hugged and kissed you and in that kiss you felt more power than you had ever felt in your life come alive and start to pulse through your veins as your body grew bright as your muscle tone and fantastic body condition came back and a strength you had never felt before flooded your body, you felt you had the power to start flying in the opposite direction of the hurricane and it would stop and swirl in the new direction to follow you. That and Mr. Angel was particularly handsome and a really good kisser and it stole your breath away and made you feel lighter than air.

“What did you do?” You asked as he pulled away, his own eyes hazed with love drunkenness now.

“Well first, I’m Suriel, your grandfather Ramiel is my mentor, he told me to keep a close eye on you as he flew your mother home.” He answered.

“My mother came to the hurricane to ask for the heavenly moura’s help in finding me?” You asked.

“Yes, she was here not even a day ago. My name is Prince Cordene, my father is Crown Prince Delmal who is taking the throne this summer. When the festival ends tomorrow, I will lead the charge of fifty legions to escort you home.” He explained as he took your hand and pulled you away from Suriel to have you to himself before he kissed your hand and looked at you like you were the greatest treasure he had ever laid eyes on.

“And I am also leading a hundred legions of angels to lead you home as well.” Suriel answered as he pulled you back to him as Cordene frowned, not wanting to be outdone.

“Awesome.” You smiled happily before you heard Cugas’ scream.

“Shit! Grandma no!” You screamed as you immediately left the angels and heavenly moura and came to Cugas’ rescue as you flew as fast as you could, your new angel heritage helping immensely, leaving fire in your wake as you flew into her palm and pushed her hand back and then her hand closed around you and pulled you to the ocean as you changed into a siren the moment you touched the ocean, the change being effortless and not hurting at all.

“Grandma! What were you doing! You nearly hurt Cugas! Cugas is a friend, not food! Brock is in the center of the ship and guarded. And no you can’t crush the ship to get at him.” You insisted before you heard the merfolk start to battle the angels that started to dive down after you as you swam to investigate.

“Stop it!” You screamed, your voice enhanced by your siren form and your angelic heritage as the sound made everyone stop and cover their ears as the scream then traveled and broke all the windows on the ships as even the crew on the ships had to cover their ears and those at the bottom of the cyclone faultered.

“Stop fighting! You’re fighting each other for no reason!” You argued as you swam over to them and broke them up before Prince Oriles came to investigate, trident in hand as he stopped and stared at you in awe, you were now by far the most magnificent goddess divine he had ever seen before he noticed the scene.

“Enough.” He said as with a wave of his trident the angels were one side and the merpeople were on the other with you in the middle as he swam around you to get a better look at you.

“I’m Crown Prince Oriles, what seems to be the trouble?” He asked you.

“I was just about to ask that. Seriously? What in the world is going on?” You asked them.

“One at a time.” Prince Oriles said before Suriel came forward.

“This is Princess Benyana Auksa, she is the granddaughter of King Tehnore of the heavenly moura realm, but she is also the granddaughter of Supreme Chancellor Ramiel serving King Madan in the Crystal Realm in the crystal heavens, she is a daughter of Suchi, a mixed moura colony, two weeks ago a clan of orcs, ruled by a moura orc led an attack against Suchi, she led the counterstrike, she turned the tide of the attack and gained victory but in the commotion, she was captured and then enslaved by the moura orc who led the charge and he tethered her to himself using an enchanted silver anklet and an invisible curse which she is now in the possession of.” He explained as you pulled it out of a little purse as you presented it to him.

“Detestable.” Prince Oriles scrunched up his face in disgust as everyone else nodded in agreement as you felt they all collectively looked at the ship and you could sense they were calculating how to wreck it.

“Ok, that moura orc has no idea he’s part moura, someone in Suchi stole his moura cloak when he was an infant and has repeated that heinous crime with all of his siblings and even his mother and her sister and all of her children. Without those cloaks they are powerless, they don’t have any of the gifts moura’s do and restoring to them their birthright and give them justice is now my priority, my own two week enslavement is nothing compared to the 34 years they’ve had to endure without their birthright. It is my responsibility as a daughter to Suchi to clear it of this dishonor and exposing the real wrong do-er in all of this.” You insisted.

“Even if that culprit is as close as a family member?” Suriel asked.

“You say that as if you know exactly who it is?” You challenged before you swam up to him.

“Is the culprit either my father or any of my brothers?” You asked as he grimaced.

“Worse.” Suriel gulped.

“How much worse? My mother or any of my sisters?” You demanded as all he did was swallow as his eyes got wide. “Are you fucking kidding me? Who is it?!” You demanded, the water around you starting to boil.

“TriKeng is Rhoslan and her sister Kalnu’s father, it was he that took their cloaks and took all of their children’s cloaks to bury the fact that the only thing his seed will sprout in is an orc womb.” He answered.

“And where are the cloaks?” You smirked, your hunch was right.

“Buried deep under the ancient tree, impossible to dig up because the three has been growing around them for so long. He has used fae magic to imbed them in the tree.” Suriel answered.

“And that tree is ancient and blessed and the whole colony would be against me destroying it to retrieve them.” You realized. TriKeng had wisdom and age on his side and many things working in his favor. But you were undeterred.

“But back to you dearest.” Your grandmother interjected. “Your majesty, she’s also the daughter of my son Rhen, who is a siren halfing I bore when I lived on land about 50 years ago. She has also obviously inherited the siren heritage as well, and only last night she finally got to meet her oceanic family but was pulled away because of that damn tether. Which when her father Rhen came looking for her in the oceans only yesterday, that tether nearly strangled her and choked her when he got too close, what kind of monster puts such a thing on another creature? Especially one as precious, magnificent and treasured as she is?” She demanded trying to focus the blame back on Brock.

“True.” Prince Oriles conceded.

“So. Where is her captor?” He asked.

“On that boat.” She pointed to the ship before you put the tether away before he lifted his trident to destroy it.

“Wait, don’t do destroy the ship!” You requested as you reached out and pulled the trident back as he looked at you strangely as he noticed the trident obeyed you. The trident was only handable by royalty and this was proof you were of royal blood and therefore more than worthy to be his queen and his trident took to you well.

“The ship’s captain is a good friend of mine, he’s been fighting for my freedom since he laid eyes on me and his crew is good, the whole fleet is great and are just innocent fishers in all this. Please don’t destroy all of them just to destroy one man.” You pleaded.

“So mild and kind despite the abuse you suffered.” He cooed as he reached up and held your face in his hand, marveling at the softness of it. Softer than seasilk itself as your whole body just glowed with untapped power and potential.

“I am the one wronged, therefore let the vengeance be mine and mine alone to get. Besides, I’m a much bigger fan of making love instead of war.” You countered, knowing that was the best way to wrap him around your finger as he was hooked like any good fish on the line.

“Besides, right now, I feel my home is in Suchi unless a greater one can be offered to me. For now, bless all who wish to- to follow me home, and if my angelic and heavenly moura brethren will help me, let Suchi be the host of this year’s summer solstice festival.” You offered which appeased everyone before you broke the surface to tell the heavenly moura who were hovering over the surface of the water which they eagerly took before they kissed you excitedly and then left to rejoin the others in the cyclone before two doors opened up underwater to reveal an elven prince and a fae prince.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ You thought to yourself before you swam up to them.

“Hello,” you greeted as both of them looked at you in awe.

“Are you here to take me home?” You asked as they both nodded dumbly, unable to really speak because you were that bewitching as you swam even closer to them so that you could see both of them out of their portal doorways at the same time.

“Well there’s no need, I already made a deal with the Hurricane Breaker Clan, when this fleet sails back to their harbor, they’ll escort her home.” Your grandmother revealed as a chill traveled down your spine. Fuck. The enemy of my enemy is my friend- well played grandma.

“Yes, but when I do get home, I just asked the heavenly moura and the angels here if they would convince the elders of Suchi to hold the summer solstice there, it’s a moura coming of age festival and it will be mine this summer. If you wish for a chance to court me, court me as a moura first then as you wish to second, I swear I’ll give you an equal footing with everyone else.” You promised as both of them nodded dumbly.

“Now, go and make ready for my arrival.” You urged them before you blew a kiss at them and that was more than enough for them both to close the doors and retreat out of there along with the angels before you addressed the merfolk that had remained.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a captain to reassure that he and his fleet aren’t in danger, and it would mean a lot to me if you didn’t try to harm them or the ship or the fleet, actually, you know what? Grandma, if you could go to Pantaou and Yingshen, and request that when the hurricane dies down, I’ll have the fleet drop the nets, if all of you would be oh so kind as to steer the various schools of fish into the nets and if you could get all the best crabs into the crab pods and stuff them full and make sure they don’t disturb the water dragon nest, and grandma if you could ask the dragons to just ice the holds for the fish. I want them to stay frozen long enough that we can go straight up the river to the foot of the mountain and have someone bring a crane and we can pull the blocks of iced fish right out of the boats and load them onto carts and I want the river deep and wide enough that the boats can sail right up the river with ease, Suchi has never had good seafood and they’ll need it for the festival especially. I want the Stormbreaker Clan to have all the proceeds from the sales of the fish. But if Hurricane Breaker clan will ensure their safe arrival and that no one from Stormbreaker will be harmed at all. Since Stormbreaker itself was led by someone who was simply misguided. A mistake that shouldn’t cost them everything, especially their lives, the sins of one shouldn’t endanger everyone else.” You insisted.

“Consider it done.” Prince Oriles agreed.

“Thank you so much.” You cooed to everyone as you swam around them, kissing all of them sweetly, grinning when they seemed to fall under a spell you weren’t knowingly casting but in this moment, you were going to use everything at your disposal to protect Brock and his family and clan.

“Now, go get ready for the party of your lives in just a couple of short months.” You cooed before they all all swam away except for Prince Oriles and your grandma.

“Grandma, was one of your terms to Hurricane Breaker Clan that they would feed you Brock?” You questioned.

“You’re very astute.” She praised. “Well, you must fill your hunger differently, because Brock is mine and I will exact my vengeance how I see fit, I’m certainly powerful enough to exact it myself. Trust me to do this at least for myself.” You pleaded.

“Oh come on,” she complained before you got infront of her face.

“Grandma, swear to me you won’t harm him, or anyone else from Stormbreaker. Please.” You pleaded.

“Fine, I swear.” She swore.

“Thank you.” You thanked her before she swam down to meet with the dragons.

“Till we meet again Prince Oriles.” You dismissed him but he didn’t take the hint, he just reached out and wrapped an arm around you and kissed you deeply as you kissed him back, hoping that would be enough to get rid of him. And while he tasted really good, it still just wasn’t quite right either.

“Ok, enough, enough, I need to get back to keep my hosts from worrying too much about me, but I look forward to seeing you again soon.” You cooed before you gave him another parting kiss and made sure he was gone and out of sight before you swam over to Cugas’ little row boat and he nearly shot you with the harpoon before you put your hands up in surrender.

“Woah, don’t shoot, it’s just me,” you offered before you climbed into the boat and changed back into yourself, spitting all the water that had been in your lungs over the side of the boat before you changed back.

“Are you ok?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just stopped a world war.” You answered as you wrung out your hair.

“Is that what that was?” He asked as he started to row back to the ship.

“Yeah, so, uh, we’re both blessed and fucked.” You leveled at him.

“Yeah, I figured. Brethren?” He mused.

“Ha! Oh yeah, almost all of them in fact, so come to find out, my mother somehow has two fathers and a third adopted one, one is a very high ranking angel in the crystal heavens that encircle the planet, her other father is King Tehnore of heavenly moura who they both have finally, after 45 years of her life have finally come forward to claim her however Elder TriKeng has been my adopted grandfather ever since we moved to Suchi. So now once this festival hurricane dies tomorrow, fifty legions of heavenly moura and a hundred legions of angels are going to escourt this fleet all the way back to the harbor and then back to Suchi.” You informed him.

“Fuck.” Cugas gawfed.

“Oh but that’s not all, Suchi is going to host this summer solstice. And not just all the mountain moura will be in attendance, all the angels, heavenly moura, elves, fae and merfolk are coming because now Prince Oriles down there is going to gift every merperson the ability to come out of the water and be on dry land for as long as they want to to also attend the solstice in Suchi.” You revealed.

“Holy shit.” Cugas blinked in surprise.

“Yep, and now because I’m now the claimed granddaughter of a king of heavenly moura that makes me a princess and because I’m also part angel and part siren, I’m now apparently the most wanted bride everyone has ever seen in their lives and no man, well other than you- can look at me without practically falling in heads over heels for me and all of them want Brock dead because he’s the only thing between them and me. Do you have any idea what I had to do to keep him alive?!” You complained which made Cugas grin as he rowed.

“I can’t even imagine.” Cugas answered.

“Brock isn’t gonna like this but it’s the only way to keep him alive, much less your clan alive, one heavenly moura could burn the clan to the dirt, fifty thousand of them...much less a hundred thousand angels they could scorch the continent a million times over, there’s no way Stormbreaker would survive.” You fretted as you just sat there and held your head in your hands as he rowed the boat back to the ship.

“So you said something about blessed or was that the blessed part?” He asked.

“No, that was the fucked part. The blessed part is once the hurricane dies- drop the nets and the sirens will herd all the fish you can candle into the nets and drop the pods and they’ll place them around the dragon nest and personally herd all the lobsters and crab into them. And then once everything is on board, the dragons will ice the holds because I know for certain that Suchi and the other mountain colonies would give you all the gold you can stand for that fish, all we need is a way to pick the iced blocks out of the ship and put them on carts and by the time the carts make it up the pass, the ice should melt enough that the fish will be easy to get and easy to sell and no one will get sick eating spoiled seafood.” You explained.

“Oh that’s a genius move!” He praised.

“Thank you.” You smiled.

“Wait, that was your idea?” He asked.

“Yeah, while they’re so eager to please me for some unknown reason- might as well maneuver things to the best possible advantage. Besides, I have someone in Suchi I want you to meet.” You grinned mischievously.

“Oh yeah? Who?” He asked curiously.

“My brother Adris.” You grinned.

“How much is he like you?” He asked a goofy grin started to spread on his face.

“More than he likes to admit, but you offer him my room on your ship and offer to take him to the sea to meet his oceanic family while you fish again or better yet, once we’re in Suchi, you feed him seafood like you fed me seafood and he’ll be trying to choke on your cock for dessert.” You revealed.

“Is he as pretty as you?” Cugas asked eagerly.

“Oh, much prettier. And you are so his type. Huge powerful muscles, captain of your fleet and a heart of gold and the fact that you’ve been fighting for my freedom since day one is going to go a very long way and your sympathy and empathy and easy going nature when you’re off the ships and in private are going to be huge draws for him. Like he’ll teach you all the dances for the solstice and I’m pretty sure he’d like to stake a claim before the solstice even starts so you can’t be stolen away by a prettier face with finer dance moves. By the way are you a bottom or a top? Because he’s a bottom.” You revealed.

“Top.” Cugas couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes,” you cheered, having wanted to play matchmaker with Cugas since you met him as he managed to row the boat back to the ship and the crew was able to bring the boat back up to the deck and once you got on the deck you went back to your room where you laid out the rope and the chain, just looking at them though made your anger rage before you went to Brock’s room to get your blanket back, grateful he wasn’t in there and cleaned up the rest of your room, hanging up the wet clothing and towels so they would dry out as your side of the ship was facing the storm before Brock slipped into the room.

“Oh good, you’re safe,” Brock blew out a breath of relief before he hugged you from behind and while you wanted to enjoy it, your anger started to boil before you pushed him off of you.

“Get off!” You grunted as you pushed him away, a feat made much easier with your returned strength and new abilities before you got his wet clothes off the line and pushed them into his chest.

“What, I don’t, I don’t understand…” He answered as he looked at you in confusion.

“I am so angry at you right now and I need time and space to think ok?!” You snapped at him as you started to aggressively clean your room, a trait you learned from your mother.

“Well, let’s talk it out. We can figure this out.” He insisted as he got a chair and sat down and you wanted to rip his head off of his body but instead you grabbed the silver rope and the silver belt and lead and threw them at him.

“Tell me exactly what those fucking things are!” You roared but he caught them before they could collide with his face.

“It doesn’t ma- ah!” He flinched as he dropped them because they burned him.

“Oh, this works.” You grinned before you took the chain and wrapped it around his wrist before it tied itself snugly.

“For once, don’t lie to me, tell me the truth and the whole truth, what are these things?” You demanded as the chain got long enough that you could walk across the room to get a chair before you sat down far enough away that he was out of reach.

“They’re…” He began as he tried to take it off but it just tied itself around him like a snake and you just shook your head.

“Wow, you don’t really love me do you? Because if you really did, you’d be honest with me without me having use magical means.” You spat as he just looked wounded that you would say such a thing.

“I do love you!” He insisted.

“Then why did you enslave me?!” You demanded.

“Because there was no other way to keep you!” He finally confessed.

“Look, I was... am…, fuck, still very desperate ok? You’re a moura, the most angelic being to walk the face of the earth and I know I don’t deserve you in my life and the world thinks that orcs are barbaric stupid meatheads who only know war and fighting and that’s not true! My clan is young and small and we’re trying to abandon the old ways so that we can embrace a new way of living that doesn’t involve us risking our lives for things like food or clothing.” He explained.

“So how does enslaving me help with any of that?” You asked.

“Because you’re my mate! Mates are supposed to walk with you through life and you’re supposed to help and support each other and all anyone ever sees when they look at me is either someone to fear or someone to manipulate. All the women in my clan all want me just so that they can be warchieftess, everyone outside of my clan wants nothing to do with me because I’m an orc and my people have been the enemy of everyone for all of history and I can’t be Warchief without a warcheiftess or even a warlord by my side and my dad is getting old and I’m running out of time and our enemies are growing stronger but we’re growing weaker and I need you to help me and I know I fucked up. I know I did, and I will always regret the way I did things with you until the day I die. But this was the only way I knew how to even get to you because you’re special! You’re supposed to be different from everyone else! You have magic and abilities and power that I can only dream of and ever since the Shaman showed me a vision of you I haven’t been able to hardly eat or sleep or anything until you could be a part of my life and it was like I was possessed and I knew if I didn’t get to you sooner than later, before the summer solstice that you were going to choose someone else and I’d be lost and my clan would implode or dissolve and our territory would be lost and we would all just end up being slaves to others and I can’t let that happen, my family has worked too hard their whole lives just for everything to be lost because Suchi wouldn’t even open it’s gates to us. Every successful kingdom has a moura ruling by their side and they’re all just...so happy and their kingdoms thrive and peace envelops them and they have no problems and all they know is ease and success.” He explained, oh if only he knew the treachery within the royal moura households.

“I went to the Shaman who told me all about the moura to begin with and he told me that my soulmate was a woman by the name of Benyana who was more beautiful than the moon and the stars in the heavens or the sunrise and sunset and he gave me a vision of you and of us and how happy we would all be and a vision of what our clan would become with you as warchieftess and how we would handle each problem together and find solutions and that you were a daughter of Suchi, a moura who would unlock all those secrets and gifts and would bless the clan and we would be the first of the orcs to lead a new way of life and that the clan would reap from Suchi. All I had to do was go to the gates and that you would come to me and all I would have to do is reach out and touch you and you would be mine.” He explained.

“So I went and I was stopped at the base of the mountain and the merchants stopped me from even climbing the trail and the other orc clans thought I was a scout for an army and nearly killed me before I had to flee for my life and so I came back home and regrouped and went back five times, each time, the merchants would send word to Suchi and the gate would be closed by the time we got up there and then we met with the elders who cursed us before they would even hear us out. And I just had had enough, so we surrounded the city at the base of the mountain so they couldn’t warn Suchi of our arrival and the shaman gave us all magic spells in glass jars, all we had to do was break the jars when we were at the gate and weapons big enough and strong enough to break the walls would come out and when we broke the jars, trebuchets came spilling out and piles of meteorite balls and so we attacked.” He revealed.

“And I knew it would take longer for you to like me, let alone love me but it was the only way I knew how to get to you and when I heard your voice giving orders, I froze and I nearly died but I knew your voice like my own and when you came out of the flames at me I knew that that was my chance so I called to you and you just hovered there as a bird so I figured you were just a shapeshifting moura and once I had you, I ordered the retreat and when I got back I went to the Shaman again and he tied the silver tether around the silver cuff and chain and it disappeared and told me to put this on you and that it would keep you with me and it protect both of us and would come off when you loved me and when it came off, you wouldn’t fly away, you would stay with me because you wanted to.” He revealed and your heart broke.

“Do you have any idea what the ramifications of taking me will be?” You questioned your sternness softened considerably.

“Well I figured you’re gonna be resentful for a while.” He admitted.

“Yes, that’s true, but this is now so much bigger than just you and me Brock. Look. I’m not just a normal run of the mill moura, since I left, my mother went back to the heavens where she proved out to be the king’s daughter. Which makes her a princess and makes me a princess and therefore- worth something to them, to all of them, apparently. Tomorrow, when the hurricane festival ends- fifty thousand heavenly moura will surround this ship and escort me home. If that wasn’t all, my mother has two fathers- don’t ask me how, I don’t know, but my mother’s second father is somehow an angel, who is a grand chancellor of the crystal heavens, who is sending a hundred thousand angels to also escort me home. One heavenly moura could burn the clan to ashes. One crystal angel can destroy the continent, they are sending enough fire power to destroy the planet thousands, if not millions of times over. And if that wasn’t all, my grandmother, my father’s mother, the giant siren three times as big as the ship? She made a deal behind my back with Hurricane Breaker Clan who will be at the docks waiting for us, who will also be tasked with escorting me home and then she demanded that once I’m home, they escort you back to her by whatever means necessary where she gets to eat you and I can tell you now there isn’t a place you go and run away from or sail away to that you won’t be found. And if that wasn’t enough, someone- if I had to guess, Elder TriKeng, my adopted grandfather- has also tasked a Fae Prince and an Elven Prince to come to my rescue too and they’ve been searching all the realms and found me in the oceans just now, each of them has an army a hundred times bigger than Hurricane Breaker. And if that wasn’t enough, I now have a merman prince who controls the literal oceans trying to court me too. You may have captured me but there is no way you get to keep me and live.” You implored as you scooted closer to him to grasp his hands. “Do you know what I had to do to just get everyone to agree to not kill you immediately? I had to agree to give everyone a shot at courting me, and I literally had to pull my grandma’s hand back from crushing this ship and drowning the crew just to kill you and I had to pull back Prince Oriles’ trident back from destroying the ship to kill you too. I may be strong and powerful but even I can’t fight all of them off. I’m sorry. It’s literally you against the rest of the world for me at this point. And I know for certain that one wrong move on my part- everything turns to shit and everyone dies. Fae’s don’t take rejection well like they would murder everyone in my family, in Suchi and in your clan if they find anything offensive because Fae have thier own set of rules and they are harsh and deadly. I had to agree to at least court all of them just so they didn’t kill you or at the very least the rest of your clan.” You revealed as Brock just stared at you, an unreadable expression on his face before he turned and thought for a moment.

“Is there any way you can get- in writing, the rules and steps associated with each way each of them courts? Is there any way you can set out the definitions and parameters to be courted? Like no matter the outcome- none of the competitors can harm either you or your family or your colony or the other competitors, make it as fair of a game as possible? But one that I can play and hopefully win?” He proposed as you blinked in surprise at him before you promptly launched yourself into his arms and kissed him all over which made him laugh as he held you, the chain easily falling from him as he held you and kissed you back and hugged you tight. Still, just so happy you came back to him.

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok with that and keep your cool? Because I’m pretty sure part of every courting ritual is a coupling session.” You winced.

“It’s your body to do with as you please, as long as your heart stays mine, I don’t care.” Brock insisted.

“Well now my body is mine.” You chuckled.

“Yeah, I know, I made a huge mistake and I should have found another way to go about it and I will be forever sorry about it and maybe one day I’ll be able to make it up to you.” He apologized which made you smile before you ground down on his hardening member starting to poke at your center before you realized- sex with him should be the benchmark moving forward.

“It’s going to be ok, we’ll get through this together ok?” He proposed as he broke for air.

“Sex then paperwork?” You proposed.

“Deal.” He laughed as he picked you up and carried you to bed and pulled off the covers as your moura cloak became a full body tattoo once again before he rolled you over to fuck you in the doggy styel position as you made sure your neck craned up so that your skin would cover over your own moura mark at the base of your head but a good back scratch had you curving your spine the other way so he would scratch all of it, which of course, had your hair falling forward and just as he entered, he froze.

"What the fuck…" He breathed before his finger reached out and touched your gold moura mark with a ghost like softness.

Fuck. He found your mark.

"OK I can explain…" You began.

#Orc #orc romance #orc reader insert #orc love story #orc boyfriend #monster boyfriend #exophilia #Exo #moura #siren #selkie #mermaid #merman #merfolk #angel #Of Heaven and Fire #Of Heaven and Fire Part 7 #fantasy #lemon

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jabbajambler · 3 years

Text

Human

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 2,291

*GIF NOT MINE*

"Ouch! What the hell, Din?" I shouted as my head harshly hit the ceiling of the Razor Crest, sending a shooting pain through my spine. "You could at least be careful!"

"Right. Be careful while being shot at." He snapped. "Sorry, Princess, you're not my main concern right now!"

The other ship had grown closer now than it was a few seconds ago, firing rapid shots at the engines of our ship. Those few months of peace were long gone.

"Hand over the child, Mando." The voice echoed through the radio. Sparks were flying through the ship as we were shot at. "I might let you live."

I rolled my eyes as I rubbed my head where it had hit the ceiling. Alarms were going off within the ship, red lights blinking, signaling that things were not in our favor at the moment. Each blare of the alarm increased the tense feeling in my head.

"One of the engines is down!" My voice became whiny, which I blame on my current state of panic.

"I see that!" He sighed. "Hold on."

He quickly spun the ship upside down, not even giving me enough time to hold onto anything as we hurled through space. I gasped as I was knocked against the ceiling and then the ground once more. I let out a pained groan, rubbing my back and head.

"Come on..." Din mumbled to himself.

"I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold." The voice came through again.

Something in Din had snapped once they spoke again. He quickly stopped the ship and soared backwards beneath the enemy fighter until it was in the Razor Crest's aim.

"That's my line." He growled and pulled back the trigger, firing the blasters upon the enemy ship, exploding it into an oblivion.

My eyes widened as I watched the ship become nothing in the empty abyss of space. Maybe it was the pounding of my head or the immense panic, but my thoughts were spoken out loud. "That was hot."

His head snapped in my direction on the floor. I'm sure even if there was no helmet, his expression would be unreadable.

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing." I groaned and pulled myself into my seat, holding my head in my hands.

He shook his head with a sigh and began messing with the control panel, powering down the engine. "Can you press-"

I reached up and pressed the button above my head, powering up the emergency engine. A dim red light lit the cockpit as he continued to rework the panel, trying to find a signal.

"This is Mos Eisley Tower. We are tracking you. Head for bay three-five, over." A voice came through the radio after Din sent out what I assumed to be an S.O.S.

"Copy that. Locked in for three-five."

He carefully landed the ship in the hangar, making sure everything was hidden away and secure. That included the child, which he locked away in his hardly spacious cot.

"You okay?"

I hardly heard his voice, but I felt the gentle hand that grazed my head. His fingers threaded through my hair, looking for any sign of bruise or cut.

"I'm fine... Just a headache. Although, I don't know if that's from hitting my head or dealing with you." I teased with a smile before I pressed the button to lower the hatch to the ground.

Din walked out before me, quickly firing a shot in the direction of the droids that were beginning to approach the ship. It was a bit aggressive if you asked me.

"Din..." I whisper-growled and ripped the blaster from his hand. "You can't just do that." I placed the blaster back in it's holster on his hip, shocked to find his gaze trained on me as I looked up at him.

"Hey! Hey! You damage one of my droids, you'll pay for it." An older woman approached us, stomping on her way. She was short with wiry, reddish-brown hair.

It fit her rage.

"Just keep them away from my ship-" I pinched Din's arm, causing him to flinch away from me with a sharp look in return. "What?" He whispered harshly.

I sent him a glare, silently encouraging him to be nice. After all, this woman was supposed to fix the ship.

"Yeah? You think that's a good idea, do ya? Let's look at your ship."

She began walking around the ship, both of us following close behind her. She banged her hand against the metal, the echoing sound bounced off the walls and filled our ears.

"Oof! Look at that." She pulled a scanner from her tool belt and used it on the ship's damaged siding. "Ugh, you got a lot of carbon scorn' up top...Yeah...If I didn't know better, I'd think you were in a shootout."

Din and I shared a momentary worried look of knowing, my eyes growing wide. We looked back at the woman once again while she continued on, still on edge.

"Special tool for that one." She sighed. "I am gonna have to rotate that. You got a fuel leak... Look at that, this is a mess! How did you even land?" She scoffed. "That's gonna set you back."

"We have five-hundred Imperial Credits." I grinned and held up the bag of currency.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Din pat down his belts, searching for his credits. It took him a while, but he must have realized that the ones I held were actually his.

What can I say? When you're on the run and hiding from a bunch of people, you start to pick up new skills.

I just happened to pick up pick-pocketing.

"That's all you got? Well, what do you guys think?" She turned towards the chattering droids with a shrug. "That should at least cover the hangar."

"I'll get you your money." Din spoke through gritted teeth. I must have just irritated him more.

"Hmm. I've heard that before. You're lucky your girl here has a trustworthy face, otherwise I don't know if I would help you."

"My girl?" His voice became flustered and confused. "I-"

"Thank you so much!" I brushed my fingers down his arm, eventually settling my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. I could feel him tense, but he gave me a gentle squeeze nonetheless. "Remember, no-"

"Yeah, no droids. I heard him. You don't have to say it twice."

I nodded and tugged on Din's hand, walking with him outside of the hangar. Just as the door closed, I could hear her mutter a few final words.

"Jeez... Womp rat."

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

Din dropped my hand once we were outside of the hangar. I couldn't blame him, we already stuck out like a sore thumb. There was me, dressed head to toe in black with a hood hiding my face, and Din, a Mandalorian clad in shiny beskar. This was far from a normal sight for the people of Tatooine.

If he were to have held my hand through these dusty alleys, we would have attracted even more unwanted attention. Although, a part of me didn't want him to let go.

I took a deep breath of the familiar dusty air. The same old sand buildings decorated the terrain. It was similar to Nevarro. Nothing was incredibly special about this place except for one thing: it was a place I once called home.

We came across a series of stakes in the ground, decorated with stormtrooper helmets speared through them. I felt my heart drop to my stomach, becoming a bit on edge. This must have been long after my family left.

I glanced up at Din but he chose to not acknowledge the sight. He simply nodded towards a building, the cantina. We weren't allowed here often as children, but it was once a bustling sight.

His hand rested on the small of my back as he led me inside. I flinched at the initial touch, but before I could relax, he pulled his hand back to his side. It left an absent feeling against my skin and I nearly whimpered at the cold air that hit my back.

"Hey, droid, I'm a hunter." Din leaned against the counter at the bar, talking to the bartender droid. "I'm lookin' for some work."

"Unfortunately, the Bounty Guild no longer operates from Tatooine."

He lowered his voice, taking a quick glance around. "I'm not looking for Guild work."

"I am afraid that does not improve your situation, at least by my calculation."

While Din spoke to the droid, I looked around the Cantina, watching the strange, diverse group of people. Aliens, humans, all sorts of species. There were no where near as many as there once were. The entire planet had sort of died down at the fall of the Hutts.

I could feel a pair of eyes boring through my back. Glancing over my shoulder, I found a young man in a nearby booth with his feet kicked up on the table.

He had dark brown, almost black hair. His face was left unshaven, a thin layer of facial hair trailed along his jaw, chin, and upper lip. He was a fairly attractive man, I had to admit that, but there was something odd about him. Something that I was drawn to and it most certainly wasn't an attraction.

"Bringing you two in won't just make me a member of the Guild, it'll make me legendary."

I winced as the words were forced into my head. I didn't know what it meant, but it hurt. His eyes remained on mine for a moment before looking me up and down.

He had something we needed.

I drew my bottom lip between my teeth flirtatiously and mimicked his gaze, shifting my eyes over his relaxed body.

"Think again, tin can." The mysterious man spoke. "If you're looking for work, have a seat, my friend... And his friend." He sent me a wink and gestured towards the booth in front of him. "Name's Toro, Toro Calican... Come on, relax."

Din nodded at the droid before sliding into the seat across from Toro. I slid in next to him, lacing my fingers again with his. The man made me feel uneasy and I couldn't let that go.

Especially those words that I heard. They sounded like him.

Toro placed a bounty puck on the table as it lit up with a familiar face, one that I hadn't seen in years.

"Picked up this Bounty Puck before I left the Mid Rim. Fennec Shand, an Assassin? Heard she's been on the run ever since the New Republic put all her employers in lockdown."

"I know of her." I kept my voice soft, almost sultry. Seems like that was the only thing this guy listened to. I felt Din's grip tighten on my hand, forcing me to hold back the small grin that threatened to form on my face. "Brave of you to accept such a bounty."

"Or extremely stupid." Din mumbled.

"I followed this tracking fob here. Now the positional data suggests she's headed out beyond the Dune Sea. Should be an easy job."

"Well, good luck with that." Din tried to push me out of the booth in an attempt to leave, but I wouldn't budge.

"Wait, wait, wait, hey. I thought you needed work?"

"How long have you been with the Guild?" He questioned. I wanted to ask the same thing, but I had a different mission than Din. I had to play it safer.

"Long enough."

"Clearly not. Fennec Shand is an elite mercenary. She made her name killing for all the top crime syndicates, including the Hutts. If you go after her, you won't make it past sunrise."

I sighed and finally slid out of the booth, dropping Din's hand before anyone could see. He began walking towards the exit, his cape flowing gently behind him.

How dramatic.

"This is my first job." Toro ran after us, his voice quieter than before. "You can keep the money, all of it. I just need this job to get into the Guild." He sighed. "I can't do it alone."

I smiled hopefully up at Din, wanting to take this chance to figure out why the Force was drawing me to this newbie bounty hunter. One of these days I would have to tell Din that secret too, but that could wait.

"Meet me at hangar three-five in half an hour. Bring two speeder bikes and give me the tracking fob." He held out his hand, waiting for Toro to place it in his hand.

That didn't happen.

Toro smashed it against the wall without thinking twice. Din tilted his head, staring at him with a complete lack of amusement. My eyebrows furrowed in equal confusion, wondering what would bring him to do such a thing.

"Don't worry, got it all memorized." He beamed.

"Half an hour." Din spoke sternly.

I sent Toro a quick wink before chasing after Din as he left through the door. His hands clenched and his posture was tense, practically stomping through the sandy walk ways. Oh my maker, was the Mandalorian jealous?

"Still think he's cute after that?"

I rolled my eyes and brushed my hand against the small bits of his arm not covered by beskar.

"I don't know." I paused, picking my next words extremely carefully. "There's someone else I can't seem to get off my mind" I threw his words back at him, grinning to myself as we walked back towards the hangar.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #din djarin #din djarin x oc #dyn jarren #jedi #oc #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #babyyoda

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letitrainathousandflames-archive · 5 years

Text

The Cut That Never Heals

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: suicide ideation, ptsd, cutting, blood, torture, gaslighting

Rating: Mature

Summary: Dogma deals with his cutting issues and is daily put through torture under the hands of the Kaminoans, or as they call it, “Reconditioning”

Chapter 1/?

Dogma had blood in his hands.

This was the blood of his brothers. Because of his actions, of his inactions. Because of his mistakes. The blood was there, filling each crease of his palm to then overflow, dripping from between his fingers over his thigh, seeping through the white fabric of his pants.

Aliit ori'shya tal'din. Family was more than blood, or so the mando’ade would say.

Well, now Dogma had neither. His brothers hated him. His superiors wanted him gone. Only Rex had showed up that one time, but Dogma wasn’t willing to grow attached to that glimmer of hope. It would only make it hurt worse when the captain never really came back for him.

The blood on his palm reflected the white light from the ceiling. It made it glisten as it slowly dripped from the open wound even though it had just started to coagulate now. Dogma had started to really hate his genetically enhanced ability to heal from smaller injuries.

The transparent door slid open and a med droid came floating in.

“CT-5345, you are injured again.” it said in a flat, emotionless tone

Dogma kept his golden-brown eyes on the small red pool on his palm.

“It’s my brother’s blood.” He said dully as the droid held his arm up to apply something to disinfect the wound on the inside of his forearm; he was feeling a tad dizzy “See?”

The droid merely pressed a bandage soaked in medical bacta to the cut, waiting for it to stimulate Dogma’s own coagulation.

“It’s Fett’s blood. Their blood.” Dogma said, sucking his lower lip pensively for a moment “Why is it in me? I shouldn’t have it. I don’t deserve it.”

The droid wrapped the bandage firmly around dogma’s forearm and then moved on to wiping the blood off his skin.

“Can’t you give it back to them?” Dogma asked earnestly “I shouldn’t keep it. It’s theirs.”

The droid cleaned the spaces between dogma’s fingers and buzzed quietly. It could’ve sounded almost like a sigh.

“We have been donating plenty of your blood to the clone army, CT-5345. If you keep injuring yourself, however, soon you’ll end up dying.”

Words that would have been concerning to many sounded like a hopeful promise to the disgraced clone trooper.

“You have your session with doctor Se today. You should remember that bleeding or passing out does not allow you to skip your reconditioning sessions.”

Yeah. Maybe that’s why Dogma had shoved his nail so deep in his skin today. He was hoping for a little more than bleeding or passing out.

“Come in, CT-5345.”

Dogma stepped into the room. The same oppressive white walls, the same Kaminoans dressed in white lab coats, the same white chair right in the middle of the room that made Dogma’s stomach churn just from looking at it.

Still, Dogma squared up his shoulders, eyes trained ahead like the soldier he is.

Was.

Needed to be.

“You know the procedure.” Nala Se said without looking up from her datapad

“Yes ma’am.” Dogma said sheepishly as he peeled his shirt off and began to fold it neatly

His body had always been more on the lean side for a clone, but it wasn’t up until today that he had noticed the way his ribs were showing. Nala Se walked up to Dogma and ripped the shirt from his fingers.

“Stop dawdling, clone.” she said sharply; then she lowered her eyes and sneered “What is that?”

Dogma instinctively looked at the red stain on his pants, covering it up with his hand.

“I… had an accident.”

The kaminoan looked deep into Dogma’s eyes.

“You are an accident.” she whispered angrily, pointing a long finger at the chair

Dogma didn’t need more than that. He hurried to the seat and sunk down on it, swallowing around the lump in his throat as he placed his arms over the armrests, hissing at the pain on his left one, the fresh cut still sensitive. He knew what happened to him every time he sat there. And he knew he had no choice but to. Hands come to pull the straps over his wrists, binding him in place and making him bite down on his lip not to scream when his injury is pressed against the armrest. Next, they pulled a strap over his chest, pinning him to the chair. He clenched his teeth, trying not to squirm. He wanted to be good. Wanted them to see he was getting better.

The kaminoans then bound his legs and began the usual process, sticking electrodes all over Dogma’s chest and temples and forcing a transparent teeth guard over his upper teeth. The thing always tasted bitter and it would hurt the roof of Dogma’s mouth, but at least it wasn’t too hard to speak with it on.

Nala Se stood in front of him, her voice calm and collected as it would usually be.

“What is your identification, clone?”

“CT-5345.” Dogma replies promptly, voice a little muffled by the tool over his teeth

He’s fidgeting with his thumb nail against his pointer finger and he can still feel the dried blood under it. Nala Se moves on to the following question:

“And what are you?”

Dogma bites his lip. He somehow always manages to get this one wrong. “Sergeant” hadn’t worked. Neither had “soldier of the 501st battalion”. Maybe if he were as neutral as possible…

“I’m a clone, ma’am.”

Nala Se gave him a stern look, pressing the screen of her datapad. Dogma felt the sudden jolt of electricity making his chest jump against the binds, and he bit hard on the mouthguard, grunting. Kark. Kark, kark, kark, he had gotten it wrong again.

“What are you?”

Dogma sucked in a breath, swallowing down. C’mon, it had been… a week? He had to pass this question at some point. He frowned, trying to think. His mind went to Captain Rex, to his example of leadership and bravery. To ARC Trooper Fives and Jesse. To Hardcase.

“A failure.” He says, eyes low on the ground

A sharp, choked sound leaves him as the electricity courses through his body again, making him unconsciously clench his fists and fight uselessly against his binds. He raises his golden eyes back up to Nala Se, his breath going shallower.

“What are you?”

Dogma fights the urge to tell her to shove her datapad up whatever hole would hurt the most, jaw moving mutely in a word he desperately seeks but don’t know. His instincts make him think of his training, of his lessons, what always mattered most to a clone trooper.

And there was something that was always above all else: their mission. That was the only thing that mattered. The mission was of the most importance, all else, including every single clone trooper, was just…

“…Expendable.” Dogma murmured, golden eyes pleading for… anything other than this misery

He wondered if he had finally gotten the answer right, and if he did, the Kaminoans would finally either let him die.

Nala Se, however, gave him a smile.

“Very good, clone. You are correct.”

Dogma gave a tiny smile, unsure if that was allowed, so he quickly suppressed it and sat up straight again, ready for whatever would come next.

“Next question: do you know who do you belong to?”

Dogma’s eyes widened up in panic. Oh no. How would he respond to that? He was… property of the Jedi army, right? But he had been born in Kamino, so maybe he belonged to them instead. And it was the Kaminoans asking this question, so… He closed his eyes, anticipating the electroshock.

“Kamino. I belong to Kamino.”

“Correct again.” Nala Se said, and Dogma opened his eyes with the tiniest sigh of relief “Which means that every single organ in your body, every inch of skin and bone, all of you is our property.”

She leans closer to Dogma, her tone still very gentle.

“This means” she continues “That every drop of blood inside you is ours. And as defective as you are, you’d better stop wasting it.”

Dogma felt his cheeks burning. He never meant to cut himself. It was just… something that happened throughout his incarceration. His head was too loud. His dreams were too vivid. He just needed to let… something out. Anything. And after losing his armor and rank, the sight of his blood, Jango Fett’s blood… was all he had.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles sheepishly “I’ll do better, I’ll be better.”

The questions kept coming. Who did he owe his life to (the Kaminoans), who did he owe unquestionable obedience (the jedi). When he brought up the fact that Krell wasn’t a jedi, Nala Se gave him a shock that lasted so long Dogma thought he would faint. His head lolled down, chin meeting his chest.

“Made me kill my brothers.” Dogma murmured with a grimace, feeling the moisture collecting at the corner of his eyes “He made me kill my…”

Nala Se grabbed Dogma’s chin roughly, forcing him to look up.

“And what are your brothers?”

Dogma’s lip tremble, and he tries to pull away from her, blinking his tears away. He thinks, thinks the words ‘brave’, ‘good’, ‘fierce’ and tucks them away in his mind, and his answer tastes like poison on his tongue:

“Expendable.”

Nala Se gives two cordial slaps to Dogma’s cheek.

“Very good.”

When Dogma is escorted back to his cell, he soon curls himself up on his bed, his whole body shaking as he holds his injured arm close to his chest, fighting the idea of just ripping the off bacta patch and shoving his nails on his radial artery so that he can just end this suffering already.

But his blood isn’t his. It doesn’t belong to him.

It’s the kaminoan’s property. He has no right to it.

He faces the plain white wall, tapping his thumb to his wrist right above the patch.

“It’s Jango’s. It’s theirs.” He mumbles quietly to then say in a faint, weak whisper of reassurance “It’s mine too.”

#cutting #blood m/#suicide ideation/#torture #fics to save #clone trooper dogma #protect him

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bladesurgence · 5 years

Note

for anyone who is new, this is supposed to be Riven x Yasuo

There were tracks on the old road again.

At this fork, the right path would wind back around along the mountains and head towards upper Navori. Beyond that lay Ionia’s fertile grasslands along the bank of the Ryunei and past that, the Placidium. Turning left meant trekking towards the coast, where the path was overgrown with cypress and juniper and the scent of the sea filled the air. Little more than a few fishermen’s villages would greet a traveler.

Today, however, it looked like business was picking up. Yasuo frowned. He had hoped to avoid crowds, but some things couldn’t be helped.

Drawing his cloak around him, he headed to the left, the headwind parting to either side of him as he walked.

He could hear the sounds of the battle before he saw it. Yasuo placed a hand on the pommel of his sword, hidden underneath his cloak, and slowed his steps. Turning a corner, he paused behind a tree and peeked out at the scene before him.

A half dozen men and women stood in a line in the middle of the clearing, carrying various weapons. Yasuo recognized the uniforms, colored aquamarine and white. They wore hats farmers would wear, except that they opened at the top. The Brotherhood.

The villagers stood opposite them. It wasn’t a mystery as to what the Brotherhood wanted - they championed themselves as a movement of the people, and believed the people should in turn help their cause and give them supplies and manpower to oppose the Council and its ‘loyalists.’

Yasuo looked closer, and his eyes widened. Among the villagers stood her.

Their paths hadn’t crossed since the courthouse. If Yasuo had his way, he would’ve had that thread run bare there. But there she was, standing in front of them, and even with a simple tool - in this case, a hammer - the members of the Brotherhood seemed hesitant to oppose her.

The wind picked up again as Yasuo emerged from behind the tree. One of the Brotherhood was pointing a crooked finger at the villagers, only able to throw his contempt from behind a screen of words.

“Foolish lot! Are we not all sons and daughters of the First Lands?”

“Not that one,” Yasuo cut in, his head angling in her direction. Both Riven and the villagers turned as he walked into the clearing. “Don’t you find it pathetic that the outsider has a better grasp on what’s best for Ionia than you?”

“Yasuo!” another of the Brotherhood called out. “You dare show yourself in front of us?”

The wind howled behind him as he began to draw the length of his sword. He gestured to the open coastline. “There’s plenty of room around. Aren’t you willing to share?”

The Brotherhood could only mutter amongst each other before their leader ordered a hesitant retreat.

Ionia’s northern shores were always at the mercy of the winter wind. Yasuo sat upon a wooden bench inside one of the huts, where the villagers had shored up the windows with blankets and rugs to keep out the cold. He sank his teeth into a piece of fried fish, meeting the eye of Riven across from him.

“Your penance brought you here.”

Riven nodded, plucking the bones off her halibut. “I’ve stayed in one place long enough. I can’t pay back all of the land if I don’t travel it.”

“Ionia is vast,” Yasuo said. His own wanderings had only been concentrated around its largest island. But Noxus had ravaged every shore it could land its boats on, from mountain cliffs to flat desert wastes. “You could wander for centuries without even coming close to seeing it all.”

“It’s a start.”

They continued to eat in silence, save for the crackling of the fireplace and the strums of a guitar in another room where the villagers had congregated, an old folk song on their lips.

“Tapang.” Yasuo could hear the accent, like a mallet crushing stone instead of how Ionian was a river that would flow around the stone. Riven inclined her head towards the other room. “None of them recognized the word. The Brotherhood said it over and over.”

“It’s an old one, from the Galrin dialect. It means ‘strength.’” Yasuo pursed his lips. He’d heard his share of speeches as he wandered from tavern to tavern. “They think Ionia is still weak, vulnerable now that Noxus has exposed it. They’re up in arms at seeing a young girl so high up the chain of command in the Placidium.”

“The blade dancer cut General Swain’s arm off,” Riven pointed out.

“A fluke, to them. They say a magical blade isn’t enough to make someone strong.” Yasuo met her gaze, and he remembered how her eyes had lit up in the courthouse, how her own runic sword seemed to awaken something in her. That blade had allowed her to do terrible things. What could she do without it?

“It’s working for her.” Riven leaned against the wall, looking into the flames. “The ships are gone, aren’t they?”

“Do you think we are weak?” He wanted to know, to get the perspective of someone from the other side. What did they think when they trampled over his countrymen and tried to claim their land for themselves?

“No,” came her prompt reply. “I used to think that strength was something you could only measure by the things you… displace.”

“Like a stone that falls into a pond.”

Riven nodded. “Climbing the ranks. Commanding others. Overcoming those that opposed you.”

Yasuo wondered if she had found holes in that skewed philosophy before she even landed in Ionia. “And now?”

“These people,” she explained, “here and on Master Konte’s farm. They’re strong because they don’t allow themselves to be moved. They do fine the way they are. And they refuse to be pushed around.”

What about the one who can’t let himself stand still? His eyes moved down to his plate and the scraps of fish skin left on it. Whether or not he agreed with what she was learning during her time here, Yasuo could tell she’d changed from the rigid person he met tilling the farm. A blunt object wouldn’t know what to do with itself when it came across something it couldn’t break through. But here, he could gleam a change in her demeanor. Some fluidity to her figure.

Maybe the angel of death has learned a little about how to live without wings.

“They want you to stay,” Riven said, pulling him from his thoughts.

Yasuo blinked.

“For the night, at least. It’ll rain soon, they say. And they don’t get a lot of visitors. First me, and then you - they want to hear your story.”

His hand reached for a glass on the table. Some poor mix of barley, yeast, and water, but it would do. Yasuo leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the wood.

“If they’re willing to hear it from the source, I might as well.” He inclined his chin towards her. “And what about you? I’ve heard of yours. Will you be there, listening along with them?”

Riven frowned as if he had just asked her a puzzling riddle. But the lines on her face began to relax, and she nodded. “It’s a long way until morning, anyways.”

Yasuo let a wistful smile form on his lips. “And I have plenty to tell.”

#short #eciled #i almost forgot confessions of a broken blade exists #so that helped me a lot here #anyways this is a way to incorporate them into the larger ionia story #with the fragmented politics and stuff

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yoongi-sugaglider · 6 years

Text

Love Forsaken

Requested OneShot : hanahaki disease~ a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one sided love. If the love is not returned the person suffering can only escape the disease through death or surgery to remove the flowers along with the emotions connected to them.

Word count:2602

Warnings: Character death, blood, angst

A/n: Alrighty so I honestly didn’t know very much about this fictional disease besides fanart and some mentions of it in other places. I’ve never written anything quite this angsty before but thanks to Chevelle’s The Red and James Arthur’s Say You won’t let Go playing on repet all day I managed to come up with this gem of a story lol. If it gave you feels of any sort please don’t hesitat to let me know~ Leave a like, hit that good old reblog button or even drop me a comment! I love hearing what people think of my work and appreciate the feed back. And remember, requests are still open!

Mother always told me. Be careful who you love. Of course...the last time she said it to me...she was choking on those damn lilies.

The doctors wouldn't let me speak to her after that. And when they told me she was gone, I swore never to fall in love. Not if it meant ending up like her.

“Y/n come on! The boys are getting out of dance practice soon. As soon as they shower we’ve got to go!”

I snap back to reality, makeup case in hand as I turn to my coworker. Her sweet yet concerned smile reminds me that I'm here to do a job so I simply nod,taking a deep breathe before grabbing my backup case from the floor and follow her to the company van.

Tossing my cases in beside the others I climb in and sit resolutely beside Rose. Her concerned smile shines again as she places a gentle hand on my arm.

“Y/n what’s wrong? I can tell something’s up.” Her whispered words echo in my mind but I shake them off, giving her a pained smile before turning to face the front of the van.

“Just thinking about the past. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, I promise.” I whisper, patting her leg companionably.The rest of the crew begin to pile into the van so she chooses to let the subject drop but I can tell this isn’t the last I’m going to hear of my listlessness.

We reach the venue, some radio station in L.A. One of many press stops in a long list of stops along this tour that I’m sure is going to be the death of me. The crew and I, managers, personal assistants, makeup artists like myself, and hair stylists including Rose, begin to unload from the two staff vans. Cases and tools in hand we swarm the green room, setting up our stations and preparing the room in general for the chaos that is soon to be getting our 7 charges ready for mindless questions that have been asked before and reporters that seem to never do their homework.

It’s another 15 minutes before they themselves arrive so I make a quick dash to the restrooms. Standing before the mirror I gaze at myself without really seeing. As a professional I usually tend to try out new looks and styles on myself, to ensure I’ve got them mastered before I attempt them on anyone else. But today...I’m just not feeling it.

Barefaced and trembling I splash a bit of water on my face. It’s okay y/n. It’s just another day in a life devoid of real passion. Just get through this and you can retire to the quiet safety of your hotel room. Just breathe. Just...breathe…

Drying my face quickly I rush back to the green room, just in time to see the much beloved Bangtan Boys making their way down the hall. They seem in good spirits, laughin and pushing each other and that’s good. That’ll make things easy if they’re in good spirits.

I make my way to my station, setting out a few brushes before grabbing the theme sheet and scanning it quickly. Foundation, primer, gloss and shadow are within easy reach as my first charge plops good naturedly into my chair.

“Good morning Noona!” A brightly smiling Jimin says, waving to me from beneath his cotton candy colored bangs. I smile blandly down at him as I set to work, cleansing and priming before hiding his face away behind several layers of makeup. His eyes are rimmed in smoky coal and a slight pink tinge spread along his upper eyelids and I’m done. Smiling down at my handy work I pat his arm.

“You’re all done Jimin. And don’t worry. You’re english is getting much better. Don’t be afraid to speak up if you understand the question okay?” My attempt at reassurance seems to work and his smile shines brighter, eyes disappearing into those crescent moons everyone seems to love.

“Thanks Noona. You always know how to make me feel better.” he stands, giving me a quick side hug before making room for my next canvas.

My heart stills but I push the feeling deep deep deep down. He smiles up at me, his bright white teeth flashing in the overhead light and I press a smile back as I set to work.

“How was practice Jin?” I ask offhandedly. It’s not that I want to know the answer, I already know.

“It was rough. My calves are aching like they’ve been gnawed on by a hundred rabid dogs.” he chuckles good naturedly and I hum in response, not daring to speak more than that.

As I take my smallest brush and set to work lining those plump...luscious lips with gloss he places a gentle hand to my arm. The room stops. Time stills. The air refuses to fill my lungs. And yet my unfaithful traitor of a heart beats so rapidly I fear it may burst.

“Y/n-ssi? What’s the matter?” his soft voice seems to whisper to the blood rushing through my ears and all I can feel is the warmth radiating from his palm into the skin of my forearm. I’m only aware of those chocolate brown eyes staring into mine, filled with concern as they scan my own. And it feels as if he’s trying to read the words written on my very soul.

“I’m fine Jin-ah.” I whisper, forcing the lump in my throat down as I return to the last of my work. He frowns, seeming unhappy with my answer. He opens his mouth as if to press the issue but Namjoon-ah saves me as he announces it’s time to go. The boys gather, hyping themselves up as they go over the last of their notes with their managers. Jin’s frown deepens for a moment as he holds my gaze but Taehyung quickly rushes over and pulls him away. They chant to themselves, gathered in a circle with their hands pressed together before shouting, hands thrust into the air and quickly they’re led away by their managers.

The room is left empty as the other stylists have followed them out, surely to watch the interview and to be on standby in case one or the other of the idols ruins their look as Taehyung and Jungkook are prone to do. I sigh, leaning against the makeup counter. But suddenly that sigh becomes an itching tickling cough. Lodged in the back of my throat and choking off my breathe for a moment. The panic sets in.

No.

This can’t be.

I rush through the halls, making my way to the half remembered bathroom as the itch strikes again. I gag as I force my way through the door. Gripping the sink’s edge tightly the itch becomes a heaving, wrenching surge of emotion and pain and I’m seeing stars of darkness. Tears burn hot streaks of panic down my cheeks as I stare in fear at the single white petal staring up at me from the drain. Tiny specks of blood on the pristine petal seem to mock me..

A lily.

As hard as I tried. As desperately as i struggled to force these emotions away. And my failure stares me in the face. Mocking me like some demon tormentor. And I’m remembering my mother’s face, white lilies flowing from her mouth in waves like some nightmare fountain as my father turned his back on her and walked out the door, his mistress tucked into his side as she cackled shamelessly at my mother’s pain.

This can’t be real.

This can’t be happening.

A silent scream builds in my chest but it’s quickly cut off by that aching itch once again. No! I can’t let this happen! Acting in haste I run the faucet, icy cool water flooding my palms as I hastily swallow several mouthfuls of water. And the itch is gone. Forced down into the depths of my chest. But the fear remains.

Because I know what comes next.

I splash more water on my face, my eyes meeting my reflection in the silvery mirror before me. There’s panic written all over my face but I have to hide it. No one can know what’s going on. No matter how badly this turns out. I have to finish this tour. The crew is depending on me to carry my weight and I can’t let emotion affect my work.

Drying my face and hands I turn from my reflection and leave the confines of the bathroom. I have to pull myself together. There’s no point in dwelling if I have work to do…..

When I return to the greenroom it’s bustling with activity once again.

“Y/n where were you?” Rose rushes over. That concern is back in her tone and I’m shaking my head.

“I’m fine Rose. Just had a stomach ache is all.” my whispered response is barely heard but it seems to satisfy her as she turns and makes her way back to her station. I follow behind, resolute in my need to cover my general discomfort.

He’s not made it back yet...good. I can finish packing in peace and leave without having to face his silently questioning eyes.

As I’m gathering my things i begin to relax. But the feeling is fleeting as a large warm hand finds itself resting on my shoulder. My eyes widen in panic as they stare down at my trembling hands.

But the deep rumbling timbre of a male voice quickly puts me at ease. “Noona can you help me?” Slowly I inhale, allowing the air to slowly escape my nose as I turn to give Taehyung a kind smile.

“What is it Tae?” I ask, proud of the fact that my voice isn’t quivering nearly as much as my heart was just now.

“Sorry y/n-nooni but…”His hand brushes at the hair on the back of his head and he turns, revealing that the clasp of his choker has gotten caught in his hair. “Do you mind helping me? Everybody else is busy and the harder I try to get it out the worse I seem to be making it…”

I chuckle to myself, used to this from Taehyung by now. And so with adept fingers and delicate focus I begin disentangling his silky, silvery hair from the clasp, so focused on not pulling his hairs out that I don’t even notice a second presence coming up to stand beside him.

“Thank you!” Tae sighs once he’s released, turning to shoot me a gracious smile before making his way back to his things.

“What would we do without you?” Jin asks, his voice causing my to jump backwards in fear and clench my chest as my heart races steadily into my throat.

“Ah...J..Jin! You scared me!” I manage to get out around that painful itch in my throat.

He pouts, his hand brushing my arm and causing me to jump again. “Hey, I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just wanted to let you know how much we appreciate all the help you’ve given us.” He smiles, a gentle affair that has my eyes drinking in his handsome features hungrily like a desert camel that’s been led to an oasis of cool crisp water.

“I know we don’t always show it. Yoongi especially since he’s so emotionally constipated. But without you and the others to back us up we’d be nothing.” He chuckles, shaking his head as he turns to look at the others who as packing up their things in preparation to move on to the next interview location.”But you especially. You keep us grounded. Remind us that we’re human and not singing, dancing machines.”

He returns his focus to me and his smile shines within the darkest depths of my soul. “So thank you. And I hope that you’ll continue working with us in the future.” He grins and winks at me, giving me his signature flying kiss before turning to leave as well.

It’s not fair…

I cough.

Not fair!

I heave.

Why did this have to happen now??

I’m racing from the room, blindly stumbling down the hall, pushing past people in an attempt to reach the bathrooms once more.

I swore this wouldn’t happen to me! Not after what happened to Momma!!

My throat swells, clogged...so painfully clogged.

There, is that it?The bathrooms?

The heaving turns into gagging and I collapse to my knees. A pair of white sneakers stands before me. And through the ringing in my ears I hear Namjoon cry out my name.

I can’t hold it in anymore. The flowers flood forth. White petals coated in blood clots all over pristine white Pumas.

There’s screaming.

My eyes lose focus.

Are those sirens?

The wailing fills my senses. And the pain drives my mind to the brink of insanity.

I can’t hold on.

It’s too much…

***

Jin sat quietly in his chair as Rose finished crimping the last of his fringe. The normally jovial man sits staring at his reflection, a look of confusion plastered on his face.

“What is it Jin?” Rose asked him quietly as she set the crimping iron on the makeup counter.

His eyes met hers and she tilted her head in a quiet frown as she watched pain begin to fill his features.

“I...was talking to y/n earlier today. I wanted to let them know how much I appreciated them but… I haven’t seen them since. And everybody I talk to seems like they want to avoid the issue. Like...something happened to them.” He lowered his head, an uncharacteristic frown replacing the confusion.

“Did I say something wrong?” He whispered, sadness and guilt pulling at his chest like a child’s game of tug of war.

“Oh Jin..” Rose inhaled, reaching out to pat his arm quietly. “Y/n was rushed to the hospital. We haven’t heard anything about them so everybody’s worried and doesn’t want to say anything in case the worst happens…”

His eyes go wide as he jumps up, startling poor Rose and causing her to knock the still hot iron to the floor.”Ah, I’m sorry I...I’ve got to go see them!” He scrambles, nearly overturning his chair in his haste to leave the room.

Namjoon stops him at the door, angrily reminding him that they still have one last interview to do. “We’re all worried about them hyung! But they wouldn’t want us to abandon ARMY like this. Come on. One last 15 minute interview and then we’ll all go check on them okay?”

Jin groans in frustration, for once actually hating his idol status. But Namjoon is right.

And so they finish their interview, Jin’s replies just as listless and short as the other boys. And when the mics are removed and goodbye’s to the hosts are said, everyone rushes hastily from the building, piling into cars and vans in their haste to make it to the hospital.

Jin forces his way through, demanding to speak with a doctor in broken english. Namjoon steps in as the other boys restrain him, translating their need to see their colleague.

The doctor speaks.

Namjoon’s eyes widen.

Jin needs no translation. He can see it in the doctor’s eyes.

He screams, tears of fury streaking down his cheeks.

Taehyung, Hoseok and Jungkook struggle to keep him from collapsing to the floor.

“It’s too late. I'm sorry...they're gone…”

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