#Imagine Wars going to Wind though like 'remember to pull back to your smile! :D '
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The Haunting Past (LU in Healthcare)
PLOT CHAPTER! :D You ready for emotional whiplash because I threw a snippet in there too?! Woot woot for wretched pacing but I don't care because I do what I want with this insanity LOL
(Click here to read on AO3)
Time stared at his phone.
Time
Time Sky’s back
He’s back and he’s ok
TIME TIME OH MY GOSH TIME
IT’S SKY WARS AND I FOUND HIM
HE’S ALIVE AND HE’S OK AND WE’RE HAVING ICE CREAM
YOU GOTTA COME HERE LIKE NOW ASAP STAT STAT STAT
ARE YOU LISTENING
LOOK AT YOUR PHONE DAMN IT
AND DON’T SAY “NO SWEARING” ORWHATEVS OK LIKE
IT’S SKY
“Honey? What’s wrong?”
Taking a shaky breath, Time slowly sat on the sofa. He… didn’t really have words to say. The messages were from last night – he’d silenced his phone for dinner with Twilight and hadn’t bothered checking it until this morning.
Sky was alive?
“Link?” Malon prompted, sitting beside him.
He looked so worn thin, yet his smile shone just as brightly as always.
“Thank you,” Sky said, leaning in for a hug.
Time held him gently so as not to jostle his healing injury. “You’re welcome. Go to the barracks and get some sleep, Sky, some real sleep, okay? They shouldn’t be letting you on a helicopter anytime soon anyway. Enjoy the rest.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
Except he hadn’t. He never saw Sky again. No letter, no text, no explanation whatsoever. Sky had been released from the hospital after his wound and then he’d just vanished.
Time reread the texts and felt his breath catch in his throat.
“Sky?” Malon whispered as she looked at his phone. “I’ve heard that used as a nickname… you talked about him, a pilot from the war – one of your Lost Boys, right? You said he’d died.”
“I thought he must have,” Time muttered.
The couple sat in silence, and then Malon gently laid a hand on his shoulder. “Honey, this is amazing. You should reach out to them and see if you can find him.”
He thought he’d come to grips with everything. Sky had disappeared two years ago, after all.
Shakily pressing on the phone, he dialed Warriors’ number, but when he didn’t get a response, he remembered that Warriors was working today. Wind was in class, he knew that much.
That meant the kid would absolutely be goofing around on his phone.
Nugget, I need to know what happened. How did you find Sky? Where is he?
It took less than five seconds to see the little speech bubble appear, and he waited.
he said he’s staying somewhere close and works in the area
isn’t that crazy??? So cool
like I can’t believe he’s here!!!!!!
u want his #? I made him give it to us
“Yes,” Malon immediately said when Time hesitated. “Honey, come on, you should reach out to him!”
When Time still didn’t speak or type, Malon brought her energy down a little and hugged him instead.
This was just… overwhelming.
“I’ll make some breakfast. Take your time.” Malon finally said softly, kissing him on the cheek and heading for the kitchen.
Time sat still, alone and silent. And then, finally, he typed, Yes.
The doorbell rang, distracting him before Wind could reply, and he plopped the phone on the couch, filled with both anxiety and anticipation. Taking a steadying breath, he went to answer the door so Malon could keep cooking. He imagined… he imagined Sky’s number would be available once he got back to the sofa.
So what would he do? Call him? Text him? Do anything at all?
Why had Sky disappeared without a word if he was still alive? Did he not want to talk to them? None of it made sense. Sky was gentle and sweet, though far more mischievous than people realized, but he wasn’t cruel.
Shaking his head to focus on the moment, Time opened the door.
And saw Sky standing on his porch.
The pair stared at each other for an eternity. Time couldn’t even quite process who he was looking at. The always sleepy teenager had grown into a young man, more muscular yet more worn, smooth young face carrying traces of worry and stress, held heavy in the dark circles under his eyes. His jaw was set tightly, muscles pulled and stiff. His posture was rigid and tall, like a soldier, but holding a tension of anticipation, a defensiveness for a blow that hadn’t yet been struck. His brow was crinkled together, so obviously conveying anxiety.
The morning doves cooed gently as a breeze blew. The surrounding nature brought Time back to reality. He started to take a small step forward when Sky’s breath caught a little too sharply. His entire being screamed an apology, and Time could only fathom what it was for.
Sky’s eyes began to water, and he swallowed hard.
Time reached forward and dragged him into a hug.
XXX
Hyrule entered the bar, breathless and excited. He had just gotten off another 48 hour shift and he was ready to unwind with his friends. Four had mentioned that Legend brought a new friend along. Hyrule had heard about him the last time he’d been in the emergency department, but he hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet.
Catching sight of Four, he smiled and made his way to the table where his friend was sitting. Everyone was still in their scrubs, making Hyrule feel a little better about only changing his duty shirt so he wouldn’t be seen in a bar in his uniform. Four had his colorful hoodie on that he always wore outside of work when weather permitted (and the cold rain outside certainly permitted it), while Legend had a light blue beanie covering his blonde hair and then was in his usual crimson scrubs. There was a third person at the table, a blonde man in forest green scrubs with perfectly quaffed hair and a chiseled jawline. His eyes quickly snapped to Hyrule before the paramedic had even gotten within a few paces of the table, and their intensity made him a little nervous all of a sudden.
Four noticed the new guy’s scrutiny and followed his gaze, smiling in recognition. “Hey, Hyrule, you’re—”
Four’s smile turned upside down as he scrutinized Hyrule. “You’re soaking wet.”
Hyrule shrugged sheepishly. “I didn’t expect the rain.”
“Where did you park?” Four asked skeptically. “Is it raining that hard?”
Hyrule fumbled for an answer hastily. “O-oh, I—not far, I—I decided to bike today.”
“You bike?” Legend questioned.
Hyrule smiled, elated and proud. “Yeah! I just got the bike last week!”
“Well look at you, being all healthy,” Legend snarked with a smile. “Come over here and sit down already, you’re being weird just standing there.”
Hyrule chuckled bashfully and made his way to the table. The new guy smiled in welcome, and his face and eyes warmed. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Warriors. You must be Hyrule?”
Hyrule nodded, smiling politely. “Yes, that’s right. Are you on in the STICU with Four?”
“ED,” he answered, sipping his drink.
“So how was your day?” Four asked the pair of emergency nurses.
“I got pissed on by a patient,” Warriors said dryly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss getting blood all over me from my trauma soldiers.”
Legend snorted, crossing his arms and smirking. “Welcome to civilian ER life.”
Hyrule gasped in realization. “You served in the military?”
Warriors nodded. “I was an army nurse and a soldier before that.”
“Were—did you serve during the civil war?”
Warriors’ smile grew a little strained, and he nodded.
Hyrule dropped it after that, sensing the change in atmosphere. “Well, I’m a paramedic! It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, yeah, nice to meet the pretty boy,” Legend said dismissively, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, my day was great, had a DKA patient whose sugar was like nine hundred and then we got priapism guy again.”
Hyrule groaned. “Again? You’d think he’d learn after the first time.”
“Nope!” Legend quipped, cackling. “He’s gonna lose it if he isn’t careful.”
Everyone at the table shuddered. Hyrule looked at Four. “What about your day?”
Four shrugged good naturedly. “Not bad. My patient actually walked today and pain management was great, nobody called the behavioral response team and nobody got punched.”
Warriors propped his chin on his fist, bottle already empty. “Head injury patients are a beast.”
Four nodded sagely. “No kidding. So what brought you to Hyrule Hospital?”
Warriors shrugged. “Looking for a change of scenery. Friend recommended I come here after I left the army.”
“Yeah, get this,” Legend interjected, pointing to Warriors. “He and Time are old war buddies.”
“Time? Really?” Hyrule asked. He’d met the trauma surgeon a handful of times by now since Four and Legend were more familiar with him. He seemed very wise and kind, but also mysterious. Time didn’t talk about himself or his past; he asked others about themselves and talked about work, and by the end of the conversation Hyrule would leave and realize he hadn’t really learned a thing about the man. He never knew Time had been in the army.
Warriors nodded, his eyes warming at the mention of the surgeon. “Yes, he’s the one who recommended I come here.”
“What part of town are you settled in?” Legend asked. “I’ve got the whole city mapped out, so I know all the good spots in town for food and shopping and the like.”
“Northern side of town, Seer District.”
“Of course you’re in the swanky side of town,” Legend commented with another roll of his eyes.
“Well what about you?”
“Lorule District.”
Hyrule headed for the bar as the group chatted about different places in the city, smiling cheerfully at the lady behind the bar. “Hey Telma!”
“Hey, honey,” Telma greeted warmly before frowning. “You’re soaked to the bone.”
Hyrule chuckled, his shoulders rising in embarrassment. “Yeah. It’s okay, really.”
Thankfully, the barmaid didn’t push. Sighing and shaking her head, her smile returned as she asked, “The usual?”
Hyrule nodded eagerly, and happily accepted the glass of milk that Telma offered before skipping back to the table to rejoin his friends.
XXX
Twilight sighed in contentment as the fire crackled. Both he and Wild were off work for the next couple of days, and they’d decided the outdoors was far preferable to the ratty motel they’d been staying in.
Being new to the area, Twilight didn’t know the surrounding vicinity as well, but Wild had explored both the entire city and the wilderness around it.
“Camping was such a good idea,” Twilight remarked, leaning against a tree.
Wild hummed cheerily, belly full of some soup they’d packed along. ��Maybe we could just live out here? Beats the motel.”
“It took us an hour and a half to drive out here. You want that commute?”
“I’ve heard of people driving that much from their homes!”
“Where are we going to shower?”
Wild squinted at the fire. “Pretty sure there’s a stream somewhere…”
Twilight laughed. “I’ll pass on that, heaven knows what’s in the water. I’m down for camping on our days off, though.”
There was a comfortable pause, and then Twilight’s curiosity got the best of him. “How did you find all these places, anyway? Have you just… been homeless for most of your life?”
Wild sighed and shrugged. “I got here with little recollection of how. Didn’t have much to go off of, either, so I made do.”
Twilight sat up a little more, growing confused and concerned. “What do you mean you don’t remember how you got here?”
“No here,” Wild said, motioning at the campsite they’d made. “I mean, like, bigger here. Castle Town. All that.”
“You just… woke up in Castle Town one day and didn’t know how you got there?”
“No,” Wild answered. “I woke up in a… I woke up somewhere else and didn’t know how I got there. All I knew was I needed to get out. And I kept going and going, and most transportation leads here, so I got off the bus here and started turning it into my stomping grounds.”
Before Twilight could ask anything else, Wild turned the conversation to him. “How about you? What brought you to Castle Town?”
Twilight shrugged. “Needed a change.”
The pair was silent, neither willing to make eye contact or elaborate on what they had said. Then Twilight chuckled. “Look at us. Let’s talk about something else, the important stuff: do you like dogs, cats, or both?”
Wild shrugged. “I’m kind of meh to all of them.”
Twilight gaped. “What what?!”
“I don’t know, I mean I’ve run into the city’s stray cats a million times over and they’re feral as hell,” Wild shrugged. “The dogs too, honestly. Best to just avoid them.”
“Unbelievable,” Twilight muttered. “We need to work on this.”
#lu in healthcare#writing#lu sky#lu time#lu hyrule#lu four#lu warriors#lu legend#lu wild#lu twilight#lu malon#Wild is kind of impartial to animals and Twi must rectify this immediately#Time and Sky make me cry#Hyrule is precious#Wars and Ledge are chaotic#good vibes emo vibes chill vibes all the vibes
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The Beast in the Mountains (A Sengoku Basara One-Shot)
Note: This story is centered around my fanon that, post-Sekigahara, Mitsunari and his family fled into the mountains to live in hiding for several years before his death. A wife is mentioned, but for the sake of this story I keep her ambiguous so you readers who have an OC shipped with him can just slap her in there. :D Shiranui’s profile is here.
TW: BLOOD, ANIMAL ATTACK
[[MORE]]
“That’s a good size fire; try and keep it like that for now.”
The group of men sat around the small fire; four dirty, tired, ragged men on the run from proper society, obscured by the darkness of the mountain’s dense forest, barely illuminated by the small fire. Sadanobu continued.
“Any brighter and we risk attracting animals. I’m already worried about smoke flowin’ through the treetops.”
“With how thick these trees are?” Gaku chuckled, “I’m surprised the moonlight even gets through here. We’ll be fine. We just gotta make sure to put it out before we call it a night.”
“You sure no one’ll find us up here?” Naofumi asked, as usual fidgeting with his hands out of anxiety.
“Relax, I did some scoping out of the town not far from these mountains,” Matazaemon shook his head, “They’re superstitious folk. Somethin’ about an old legend saying there’s a guardian spirit that lives on this mountain. People who go too high up the mountain end up in its territory and meet a horrible fate or some shit like that. That’s why I wanted to set up the camp so high up.”
“Besides, we’re not staying long...” Sadanobu pulled out the thick sack from behind him, “We gotta get to my guy in Kyoto and pawn all this off.”
Another successful heist for the unlikely group of criminals; two army deserters, a farmer and a gambler, able to pool their strengths and successfully rob their way across the East. Traveling nobles, temples, inns—nothing was safe. The country was a mess—they were just taking the opportunity to help themselves.
“That last temple was hidin’ some good loot!” Gaku said excitedly, “I still can’t believe how lucky we got! Lemme see again!”
Sadanobu rolled his eyes, but smiled and passed the bag to Gaku, who excitedly opened it, tilting it toward the light of the fire to see the inside; the head of the gold Buddha glittered back at him. “We got enough goodies in here to eat like kings for weeks!”
“Man, I haven’t eaten a decent meal since the Toyotomi...” Sadanobu sighed and leaned back. “It’ll be nice...”
“Hey, yeah, you were a Toyotomi guy!” Matazaemon laughed, “I was Oda! I know your pain.”
“You’re kidding! You don’t strike me as an Oda guy.”
“And you don’t strike me as a Toyotomi!” he cackled back, as the two howled in laugher. Gaku and Naofumi chuckled along.
“You know, you two never talked about your army days,” Naofumi pointed out, “We got time—why not start now?”
“It’s really nothin’ much,” Matazaemon shook his head, digging through another bag to grab a rice ball and start distributing them amongst the group, “I joined up so my old man didn’t have to, wound up havin’ to do a lot of killing and burning and pillaging that I really never wanted to do. Watched all the major generals shining above everyone else, while the foot soldiers were trampled beneath them. Date, Takeda, Uesugi...they were the kind of guys that really made war seem like a fun time.”
“I know what you mean,” Gaku replied, “They made it look like something we should aspire to. I almost joined up with Date myself, but...when folks from the Date came around enlisting able-bodied men, I took off so my mom wouldn’t have to see her only son die for the sake of some egotist who just wanted more land for himself. I wonder how she’s doing...?”
“That’s the thing about these generals and daimyo,” Naofumi shrugged, “They shine brighter by standing on the backs of their soldiers.”
“Oda was a complete monster, though,” Matazaemon grumbled. “All of his inner circle were. Moment I got news Akechi killed him, I took the opportunity to turn tail while everyone was scrambling around. Never looked back.”
“Similar to my story,” Sadanobu nodded, “Hideyoshi was a creep...even standing near him put me on edge. And his supporters weren’t any better.” He leaned forward, looking down into the fire. “I remember one day, when I was training...apparently his general, Ishida, didn’t think I was making enough progress. By some mercy, he kept his sword sheathed, but he beat me with the sheathed weapon in some twisted attempt to strengthen me. All it did was strengthen my resolve to get the hell out of there soon as I could. Glad he’s dead.”
“Is he, though?” Naofumi raised an eyebrow. “I thought it wasn’t confirmed.”
“He and his family were in Osaka castle when some folks raided it after he lost Sekigahara. The whole place went up in flames; there’s no way an impulsive guy like that had any escape plan to get out of there undetected. There were so many burnt corpses in the castle afterward once the fire was under control; he had to be among them. He wouldn’t have run. He never ran.”
Naofumi closed his eyes in thought. “Maybe. There’s always a chance.”
“Don’t even start. I don’t wanna think about the possibility that that asshole’s still out there somewhere. And even if he is...he’d never willingly show his face again.”
The wind seemed to whisper above them. And a rumbling came from the woods around them.
“What was that?” Naofumi looked up, now apprehensive.
“Probably just an animal attracted to the light,” Gaku reached toward the fire, grabbing a burning hunk of wood from it as he stood up. “Wave this around a little bit and they’ll be gone. I’ll do it.”
Gaku turned from the group, heading through the brush, waving the burning wood around to light his path. Big, dramatic steps and stomps to intimidate whatever was near, his companions watching from afar.
Then, his head perked up, as if he spotted something. But before he could speak a word, he let out a choked-off cry, the flame dropping and going out.
“Gaku!” Matazaemon cried out as the group stood up, on high alert. Then, the loud thumps of quick but heavy footsteps, and a vicious bark and snarl, as a large, white blur lunged forward, biting Matazaemon by the arm; the force knocked him to the ground as he felt the arm pop out of place. He howled a mix of pain and fear.
Naofumi stared in shock and horror at the large wolf now viciously yanking Matazaemon to and fro like a rag doll, blood soaking its teeth and maw. But Matazaemon’s screams finally snapped him to attention as he pulled out his knife, plunging it toward the beast’s side in a panic.
He missed the stab, but the blade did slice the wolf’s side, as it let go of his friend and instantly turned on him; its jaw snapped open, going for his throat, and as he fell back, he looked to Sadanobu for help.
But Sadanobu had fled. Even as the wolf snarled and tore into him, Naofumi could hear footsteps approaching, and hear something slice into Matazaemon, silencing his howls of agony.
Sadanobu blindly pushed his way through the brush, his face a mix of fear, of terror, of snot and spit, while he tried to process that he was alone now, on this mountain, at night.
The Beast of the Mountain was real! That was no ordinary wolf! That thing...that thing was a monster! So fast, so strong! He had to leave its territory.
He had to get down the mountain.
He tripped in his panic, falling and rolling a ways, before finally sliding to a stop, staring up at the break in the treetops to see the moon. He began to sit up, but froze.
Footsteps. Two feet.
He began to hyperventilate, wondering if the beast had changed form, to come after *him.*
But the moon began to make his pursuer visible. And he could see those thin, angry eyes glaring down at him.
Those thin, angry eyes from all those years ago.
And he began to wail.
“IT’S YOU—“
SPLURCH!
That one slice caused his insides to burst out of him, as he fell back, gurgling his final sounds, the world around him becoming black.
....
And Ishida Mitsunari flicked the blood off his old sword before sheathing it again. His intuition had been correct; the noise and dim light he saw from his home wasn’t just his imagination playing tricks on him; someone had the audacity, once again, to venture that high up the mountain. And they needed to be dealt with swiftly, before he risked them finding him.
Grabbing the body by the leg, he began to drag it back with him toward the campfire. As he did, he whistled a short whistle, as the snarls and barks from before were replaced by panting; he found the wolfdog standing by the other two bodies, his curled tail twitching in satisfaction. Dropping the first body’s leg, Mitsunari knelt down.
“Come here. Let me see.”
The dog padded forward, allowing Mitsunari to get a closer look. Removing his right glove (revealing a hand scarred from burns), he ran a hand along the wound in the dog’s side; the dog let out a small whimper, but didn’t panic.
“...it’ll scar, but it’s nothing serious,” he muttered, “We’ll treat it when we get back home. Good work, Shiranui.”
His children had named the dog when he brought the pup back to their home two years prior, having found the pup attempting to steal one of the pheasants he had hunted. Now fully grown, it was clear the dog took mostly wolf traits...but, at his core, Shiranui had always been a loyal dog...especially to his master.
Once certain the wound wasn’t serious, Mitsunari turned his attention to the bodies. Retrieving the last one from a ways away, he wasted no time rifling through their pockets and satchels for supplies. Medicine, food, tools...anything usable, he gathered into the largest bag. As he came across the sack containing their ill-gotten gains, he pondered the contents for a bit...before shaking his head. He had no need for any of this. Gold and the like wouldn’t keep them alive. Wouldn’t keep them safe.
One by one, he dragged each body a ways up to the cliffs, before rolling each body over the edge with one smooth motion, watching them get swallowed by the darkness below as he listened to the impact of them striking the cliff side, the stones, the tree branches....and lastly, he tossed the sack of treasures, too. Good fortune to whomever finds them, he supposed. It didn’t matter to him either way. Either way, the Beast of the Mountain had maintained its status as something to be feared.
Returning to the camp and snuffing out the fire, he let his eyes readjust to the darkness, before looking to Shiranui’s bloodied face.
“Let’s wash your face before we go back.” His wife hated when the dog came back from its hunts and meals looking like that.
After stopping by the stream to clean off the dog’s face and wash the wound a bit, they began their quiet trek back home, their loot in hand. Nearly three years of this life...and sometimes, it was still wildly unfamiliar to him.
He should have died at Sekigahara. He should have taken his life when he failed to avenge his lord.
He should have.
But he didn’t.
Now he was a spent match; the fire of battle had long left him, and now he was smoke, drifting about his new life, though sometimes, that little fire would come back. Sometimes, he would remember why he lived.
Off the beaten path, past the troublesome terrain, there stood a small house. His house. It was no Sawayama, it was no Osaka Castle, but it was home. And it was here that he quietly slid open the door, only to flinch slightly, startled by the shape of his wife’s feet in the moonlight shining through the door. In her arms, the smallest of his children, his only daughter, little Tatsuhime, fast asleep and undisturbed.
“...how close were they?” his wife asked in the softest of voices.
“Close enough to be a problem,” he replied. She could tell he was willfully omitting details. Details that would distress or upset her. He clearly didn’t want to elaborate further. Other than, “Shiranui’s hurt. I’ll stay with him tonight.”
She gave a quiet nod, quietly vanishing into the tiny hallway, as she, too, was swallowed by darkness.
Mitsunari retrieved a cloth, taking a seat against the wall and beckoning the dog over; Shiranui obeyed, laying down as Mitsunari pressed the cloth against the wound. The dog rested his head on his master’s lap, while Mitsunari rested his own head against the wall.
He could faintly hear the rustling of his wife setting Tatsuhime down to sleep; undoubtedly between her two older brothers. His wife was then rustling into bed as well.
He didn’t know when he’d sleep.
But until then, he’d remember why he lived.
#sengoku basara#ishida mitsunari#Mitsunari Ishida#fanfic#basara#Sb fanfic#blue writes#fan fiction#fanfiction#capcom
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Cassell Cynics: Part 5 (End...?)
OCs are @hectab ‘s . Dinnae Steal! :D that’s my job. :3c
Hana sprinted from Nathan’s dorm towards Guderian’s class room, full of desperation. She kicked off the silly heels Cassell forced her to wear and let the pavement pound through her bare feet. As she ran, she called the professor on her cell phone again and again, but he didn’t pick up. She imagined him teaching a class. She would disrupt it. She would get into trouble maybe she would be disciplined. But they were making a mistake! She had to get them to change their mind!
How come Fingel got to stay as rank F and Nathan was getting expelled as a Rank C? It wasn’t fair! Nathan had way more potential than Fingel and even if he didn’t do anything... why was his mental health not a concern to them? They were the ones who decided to keep him! This is partly their fault. But all Guderian regretted was not being able to refund his tuition!
She took the twenty stairs up to the main teaching hall in a single bound. Her dark ponytail flying behind her. The doors were already propped open but no one was in the halls. She kept running, expecting resistance. But finding none at all. In fact, all the lights were off as if the classes were finished for the semester.
She dialed Guderian’s number again and it rang and rang. She could hear it ringing in the classroom ahead of her. How could he just ignore her calls like this!
Hana burst through the double doors into a classroom that was empty and dark. The lights were out and the shades were drawn. The person standing at Guderian’s usual desk was Schneider! He was like a gargoyle in a dark trenchcoat. His sharp eyes glared from behind the half mask over his face. He was holding Guderian’s phone.
“You sent those texts?!” Hana gasped.
Strong arms seized Hana from either side of the doors and dragged her forward, pushing her into a chair in front of him. Hana was overtaken with confusion. “What’s happening? Where’s Professor Guderian?”
She looked up at either one of the people holding on to her. They were members of the Executive Board. Not students, full members! “What’s going on? Where’s Nathan?”
“You’re too late. He’s already in with Toyama. His brainwashing has commenced.” Schneider said smoothly, setting the phone down. “And you will not be allowed to interfere.”
---
Nathan kept his head up high as he faced the psychologist Dr. Toyama. “It was a nice run.” He grinned. “Wish it could have lasted.”
Toyama, dressed in his usual brown tailored suit raised his eyebrows in surprise as he took a seat across from him. “You’re the cheeriest patient I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”
“Really? I’m guessing that they either don’t know what you really do or ... they’re here against their will. I’m neither of those things. I would have preferred to let my tuition run out first but... hey I get it. I’m not supposed to be here so... here we are!”
“Do you really not feel the Blood Cry at all?” Toyama asked. He picked up an iPad and started writing with a stylus.
“What difference does it make? I’m C-ranked. I don’t qualify for College. You don’t ask students if they feel the Blood Cry if they fail the 3E do you? You just kick them out.”
Toyama smiled, his eyes kind and gentle. “But you didn’t fail the 3E.”
Nathan gave a nervous laugh, his arms crossing over his chest. He glanced around and his eyes fell on hidden cameras very quickly. “You people were the ones who told me I got a C-rank. That’s a fail by your own rules. Why are you suddenly saying I didn’t fail. Did someone falsify my records?”
“I’m required to be present during the 3E. So I remember you. You were nervous but I remember you had a glimmer of excitement in your eyes. You didn’t seem to doubt yourself going in. But after the test was over...”
Nathan interrupted. “The 3E sucks. There are people who have to go to the hospital after! You’re there so they don’t blow their brains out after seeing their visions.”
“It only ‘sucks’ if they actually resonate...” Toyama said coldly.
Toyama sat in silence for several seconds and watched Nathan start to sweat. He rubbed his hands on his pants then suddenly relaxed. “Oh! I have my book with me. I figured I’d go for uh...Jason Bourne. You know, a secret spy who was ‘decomissioned’ by a black government program.” He opened to the correct page and showed it to Toyama. “Give me that memory please.”
Toyama took the notebook from him. There were over a hundred different scenarios of different reasons to explain the lost year from an erased memory, each one getting more and more elaborate as the time went on. But Toyama flipped to the first page.
“Hey! Don’t just go flipping through all of it!” Two members of the discipline committee caught Nathan before he could snatch the book back and restrained him back into the chair.
Toyama read out loud. “August 12th... isn’t that the first day you enrolled? That’s also the first day you wanted to leave.”
Nathan glowered as he was being strapped to the chair with belt like attachments. “Why do you care? Fine, you know what? I quit! I quit and I drop out. I drop out right now!”
“You wanted to leave immediately after the 3E. You could have dropped out then but you didn’t....” Toyama closed the book. “But now you’re suddenly eager to go. What changed?”
“I wanted to enjoy my time here... But you won’t let me...” Nathan snarled.
“We won’t let you enjoy your time? You’ve been here a year and have done nothing but break the rules without consequences.” Toyama said.
“Stop. Just stop! You want me... out there. Fighting in this stupid war! That’s why I’m here. If you really thought I was useless you would have kicked me out! Right?”
“Who wants you fighting in the war against dragons..?” Toyama asked slowly.
Like quicksand, Nathan felt like the more he talked, the deeper he sank. “Do you not hear me! I said I quit! I quit!” He roared louder and louder. “You can’t keep me here!”
“You feel the Blood Cry more strongly than you admit. If I erase your mind the consequences could be disastrous.”
“Why are you stalling? What did she tell you?!” He pulled against the restraints.
“Why don’t you let us help you?”
“I don’t WANT your help!”
Toyama stared in wonder. It wasn’t that he was angry or frustrated. This man was terrified. “Why are you so scared of staying here?”
-----
His brainwashing was already in progress? Hana felt like the wind was knocked out of her.
"No! You have to stop it!” Maybe if she ran, she could make it! The sharp click of a gun was loud against her head when she tried to stand. Her eyes turned to the sound and she stared down the bottomless barrel of a pistol. “Are you going to shoot me? Why? What’s going on...” Her voice was shaking and betrayed.
Schneider expression was completely pitiless. He looked like the Phantom of the Opera as he set a stop watch on the desk. “You have 10 seconds to explain or our decision is final.”
“9...8...7...”
“I...” She stared at it, mind racing. “I promised him that I wouldn't say anything about what we talked about... Please he’s my only friend!”
“6...5...4...”
“He won’t survive out there, I know he won’t! Just let him stay! He never caused any trouble!”
“3...2...1..”
“He quit the test on purpose!”
The stop watch beeped and Schneider silenced it with a gloved finger. Hana was still out of breath from running and now she was panting from terror. “Please, just let him stay.”
“The test. You mean the 3E? No one ‘quits’ the 3E, but you said he did.” Schneider kept his frigid stare on her. “He’s not C-ranked and you know it. Why did you lie and say he was?”
“I don’t know if I lied.” Hana’s heart had never beat faster. “I don’t want to lie.”
“But you did.” Schneider raised a single scarred eyebrow. “Which makes this all the more remarkable.”
Schneider walked around the desk and sat down, resting his elbows on the desktop and twining his fingers in front of his face. “You’re a good student. One of the best. What are you doing, Hana?”
“I don’t have anyone else here. I think he’s a good guy. We can be friends. I just want you to leave him alone.” She said.
Schneider waved his hand slightly and the two Executive Board agents turned and left, closing the door.
“EVA!” He raised his voice suddenly. “I need you to remove yourself from this room for the next ten minutes.”
A female voice acknowledged from the PA system. “For the next 10 minutes, I will have no access to this classroom..”
Schneider kept his piercing pale eyes on her. “Everything you say from here on out will be strictly confidential unless you repeat it to others. If anyone asks me, I’ll never tell what you say here today.” She kept a guarded look so he added. “I have many, many secrets I never tell anyone, Hana. You can tell me.”
In their chat over dinner, Nathan had kept asking her if she was on his side and she was. She really was. She didn’t believe he was really high on drugs when he told her about the 3E exam, the vision he had of the dragons’ true nature. But the excuse that he was high when he said those things was too perfect to resist. It was a ‘get out of jail free card’. She had thought that all she had to say was he was high and she wouldn’t lie to the professors and they would go back to ignoring him. But now she found herself in even deeper trouble, facing down the head of the Executive Department. The most dangerous man on Earth! “You really promise you won’t tell anyone else?”
-----------------
“You risk your mental health if you continue on this path. It’s self destructive.” Toyama continued to try to reason with Nathan. “I just want to make sure you understand the great risk you’re taking and that your decision is not being made rashly.”
Nathan hung his head, as though he were being led to the gallows. "It’s not being made rashly. I know exactly what I’m doing. I know I could just... end up jumping off a bridge once my memories are gone. I’ve been preparing for it. Seeing what works. Marijuana helps a lot. But the problem is you build up a tolerance over time. Especially as a hybrid. Music, weed, regular sleep... it all helps take the edge off the Blood Cry. Alcohol makes it worse alone but with weed it’ll help you sleep.”
“You’ve been experimenting on yourself this whole time?” Toyama ran his fingers along his chin. “You really are serious. If that’s the case, you’re right that I can’t keep you. I just want to know why. Both professionally and personally. I’ve never met anyone like you in my entire career.”
Nathan kept his silence. He didn’t look at Toyama any more.
Toyama’s phone suddenly buzzed. “Excuse me.”
Nathan nodded without looking up.
Toyama stepped out. His voice sounded through the door. He was talking to someone for a very long time. The two disciplinary committee students were still there and he glanced up at one. “I’m sure you guys are curious too...?”
“Not really. I don’t care if you’re here or not.” The square jawed man looked down on him contemptuously. “Frankly, I wonder why they’re wasting time hesitating.”
Nathan laughed softly and looked down. So long as he insisted on leaving, they wouldn’t be able to hold him. This was the final push. No doubt they were trying to force him to stay for their own reasons. They knew he was hiding something precious and they didn’t want to let him go.
--------------------
Hana looked up at Schneider on the phone.
“Cancel his expulsion.” Schneider said simply.
A pause. Schneider asked. “Did he say why?”
Another longer pause and Schneider licked his lips. “Have you tried to dissuade him?”
Another pause. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”
Schneider hung up. “Well, it appears your friend is determined to leave. Unless you could convince him to stay, Toyama has no choice but to wipe his mind. You said you’re his friend right? What do you think?” Schneider’s manner had completely changed. While he wasn’t a warm personality, that frigid atmosphere was gone.
“I don’t want him to go. I’m afraid at what might happen. But he doesn't believe in Cassell or the mission.”
“Toyama seems to feel nervous about wiping him as well but he has been unable to convince him to stay so far. Do you think you can?”
“Professor Schneider. When you look at me, do you think I could be someone who could actually kill a dragon given the opportunity? Please. Be honest.” Hana Sato asked.
The hiss of Schneider’s oxygen tank was audible in the silence, and it hissed 3 times before he finally answered. “When humans battle with dragons, our victory tends to be a pyrrhic victory.”
“What’s a pyrrhic victory?” She tilted her head.
Those light eyes sparkled and then softened into something akin to a great sadness. “A pyrrhic victory is when the cost of the victory is so great, it can be reasonably be called a defeat.”
Hana swallowed hard as another layer was peeled back and once again Nathan was revealed to be correct.
“Do you think the fight against dragons is unwinnable?” she asked.
“It’s not about winning or not winning.” Schneider said. “It’s about survival. If we don’t fight against the dragons, it will simply mean the certain end of all human society. If it is impossible, as he says, then I can understand why he would rather have no part of it. But I don’t share his hopelessness. I believe we can win. And even if it comes at the great cost of many lives, if it means the future of mankind, it will have been worth it.”
-------
Toyama returned to the room and shooed away the two disciplinary committee members. Once they were gone he said. “Your expulsion has been canceled.”
Nathan let out a short laugh, sadness filling him. Hana must have talked. He supposed he couldn’t expect Hana to sacrifice herself for him. They hardly knew each other after all. “Oh really? Are they changing my rank too?”
“No one has said anything about that. To change your rank you will need to retake the 3E. Are you still going to drop out?”
“Yeah. Go ahead and do it. Sign whatever paperwork. Go ahead. I’m ready.”
“Now why are you upset?”
Nathan turned his head away. “I’m not.”
“You are. You were happy to leave at first. Now that I’m letting you go, you look terribly sad. Close to tears even”
“I’m sad because I don’t have any weed. Once I’m out of here, just make sure to stash my marijuana in my backpack. I’ll smoke and feel alright.”
Toyama paused to give him one more chance to think of a way out and when nothing was forthcoming, he unstrapped Nathan from the chair, unbuckling the restraints. “You said Jason Bourne? There were a few more pleasant scenarios in there. The last one was a artist running from the dictator in Korea.”
“I have no artistic talent. I was just spitballing.”
“Witness protection program?”
“Seems to require a lot of staff.” Nathan massaged his wrists.
“Plane crash coma victim?”
“Make it car crash and I think we have a winner.”
“Alright.”
A knock at the door surprised both of them. Toyama went to answer it. “You are just in time. We were about to start.”
“Hana?” Nathan was surprised, delighted and then wary to see his soon to be former fellow student. “What are you doing here? Here to say goodbye after ratting me out?”
Hana stood taller than Toyama. Her face was serene when she looked at him. “No.” She said. “I’m leaving too.”
------
Hana sighed. Her mind was a jumbled mix of thoughts. Her first question was where am I? Nothing came to mind for a split second, only for the thought to pop up unbidden.
She was at Cassell. Cassell... how did she get here?
Another brief silence from her mind and then an image appeared unbidden. She had been on an escort assignment. Everything seemed normal until they were on their way back and got T-boned by someone who red light. She didn’t remember anything after that.
She opened her eyes to the white hospital room.
Toyama was sitting next to her bed. “How are you feeling, Hana?”
“I’m fine... Nathan... Where’s Nathan?” She sat up and was suddenly assaulted by dizziness.
“Nathan is fine.” Toyama said, reaching out to steady her. “He’s where he usually is. You remember right?”
She smiled gently. “Yes. I remember. On the bench... smoking.”
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Sing Me a Song (Joseph Liebgott x reader)
Can be read as a reader or OFC piece. I was playing around with writing in first person.
The song referenced is Only Forever by Bing Crosby.
Warnings: um...none really. fluff?
Tags: @evelynshelby
It was a cold, white hell. Snow covered everything. Well everything that had not been destroyed by the most recent barrage. The air was frigid, the cold seeping into my clothes until it felt like my bones had been replaced with icicles. Splintered trees surrounded us, an ode to the destruction we faced. Stains on the ground reminded us where someone had been hit, either injured or died.
The only thing that made this place even remotely tolerable was my fellow paratroopers...and him.
I sat next to Muck, sides pressed against one another with the idea of sharing warmth. Even if neither one of us had warmth to share. Our legs dangled over the side of Luz's foxhole, listening to him and Malark joke about something. A few other guys were around, listening in and adding their own commentary. Specifically, he sat across from me in the foxhole, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, fingers tapping out a silent beat on his thigh.
I remember the exact moment I met Joseph Liebgott. I knew he would be trouble for me. That messy hair, dark eyes and the don't-fuck-with-me attitude. Sure I found that attractive and his dry humor always made me laugh. Although his stubbornness and ability to pick a fight with almost anyone did irk me. He was untouchable. It was obvious he was a ladies-man, and knew it. I was...well, not someone typically picked up at a bar. I had always been alright with my lack of male attention, but for once, I wish I knew how to charm and flirt, to beguile a man and have the audacity to kiss one.
But that was not me. So I sat and watched from the sidelines.
"What the fuck are they singing about now?" Liebgott complained, glaring across the no-man's land between us and the Germans in the Bois Jacques.
Sure enough, German singing could be heard, carrying with the wind. They seemed to be singing more lately, either to boost their own morale or annoy the Americans.
It sure got a rise out of some of the paratroopers.
"They just serenading you, Joe." Malark joked then called over to a passing Sergeant, "Ain't that right, Lip?"
Lipton just shook his head, a small smile touching his lips. "Whatever you say, Malark. You boys make sure to keep your heads down. Ma'am too." He kept walking, probably to find Dike.
I giggled, smiling as Lipton walked away. No matter how many times I told him to stop, he still called me 'ma'am'. Something about it being disrespectful and even in the middle of a war his mother would find him and spank him with her wooden spoon if she thought he was being disrespectful.
Liebgott kept scowling. "Well I wish they'd shut the fuck up." He mumbled something under his breath, running a hand through his shaggy hair.
"Oh I see, you prefer me to serenade you." Luz smiled. "I mean, all you had to do was ask, really. Oklahoma where the wind comes sweeping…"
"Shut it. I'm sick of your singing."
"Joe…" I reprimanded softly. He glanced over at me and gave the briefest of winks. That simple action, every time, always set my cheeks ablaze and a fire in my belly. I scrubbed a hand over my face, praying no one saw how flustered I was.
"Well what do you want? Not a lot of options here, unless you know where some band is hiding nearby." Muck said, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
"Shit, I don't know. I just miss music, good music I guess. Always had the radio playing in my cab."
My heart broke at the forlorn look on his face. We all had our moments where the longing for home, to be anywhere but this terrible place, overwhelmed us. It was up to our friends around to cheer us up, however they could, but lately it was getting harder and harder to do. The constant threat of bombardment, the frigid cold, lack of food and watching our friends get injured and/or die. It killed the small hints of hope left in us. That we would survive. That we would escape this place.
He drummed his fingers against his thigh, some song probably playing in his head. Even those around us had grown silent, lost in their own memories of before. Who knew such a simple thing as music could be so meaningful.
"I'll sing for you."
Then I realized the words I blurted out. Shit.
"Yeah? You sing?"
Luz butted in. "Since when do you sing? And why are we hearing about this now? We could have been singing duets this whole time!"
I ignored him, keeping my eyes on Liebgott. "I used to sing in school. Nothing special."
That may have been the biggest lie of my life. I used to sing all the time, whenever I could. I even sang for our local radio a couple times. Then war happened. It did not feel right to sing during training, just gave Sobel another reason to despise me, and here surrounded by blood and bullets, I did not even think about it.
For him though, I would do it. To make him smile in this frozen hell. I would sing for him.
"What are you going to sing?"
"What would you like?"
He paused for a moment before smirking. "Surprise me."
Well there was no going back now. Butterflies were throwing a lively party in my belly, my hands were sweaty and my mind continued to berate me for my idiotic decisions. I pushed it all away. I had survived D-Day. I had helped take Carentan. I had fought at the Crossroads. I could sing one song for the man that made my knees weak with a wink.
Right?
Shit.
Carefully I stood up, dusting the snow off my ODs as I mentally chose a song. What did I want to sing? In my mind I imagined myself back home, the sun shining on my face, sand between my toes and the sounds of the ocean waves crashing on the beach. Then I imagined him next to me. A huge smile on his face, like the ones from back in Toccoa when he would hide Guarnere's boots just to see him furious and swearing to make even a sailor blush.
So I closed my eyes, opened my mouth and let the song pour forth.
Do I want to be with you
As the years come and go
Only forever
If you care to know.
Would I grant all your wishes
And be proud of the task
Only forever
If someone should ask.
How long would it take me
To be near if you beckon?
Off hand I would figure
Less than a second.
Do you think I'll remember
How you looked when you smile?
Only forever
That's puttin' it mild.
When I finished the song, barely a sound was heard. Self-conscious, I opened my eyes to meet the stares and dropped jaws of my fellow paratroopers.
I met those dark eyes that I adored and softly said, "happy Hanukkah, Joe."
Then my nerves gave out and I quickly dropped back down to sit next to Muck.
"What the hell was that? Were you planning on keep that from us this whole time?" Luz demanded, looking both offended and awed.
I just shrugged.
"That was beautiful." Muck whispered, nudging me in the side.
"Thank you."
Buck called my name from behind, so I turned to see all the officers standing nearby probably making a plan since Dike was not around. Honestly I was mortified that they had heard also but the smiles on their faces alleviated some of the anxiety. "From now on, only you should be singing for Easy."
"Hey!" Luz placed a hand over his heart, cigarette between his fingers. "You wound me, Buck. You love my singing."
"Keep telling yourself that, George."
Smiling at their silly antics, I was glad the attention was momentarily off me but I knew it would not be for long. It had felt good to sing again. I wondered if my self-imposed denial was without merit. If it boosted the morale of my friends, was it selfish of me to hold back? I figured I should talk to Doc about it later. He gave the best advice.
"You sang that….for me?"
The question startled me out of my musings. I looked over the foxhole to see Liebgott staring at me with an intensity I had never seen before. It made a fire grow in my belly and my toes curl.
I nodded, biting my chapped lip.
His eyes bore into mine for a long moment. Then without warning, he shoved off the side of the foxhole he sat on and in two steps stood before me. Before a word could escape me, his lips crushed against mine with an almost bruising passion.
It felt as if the world faded away and the only thing that mattered was his soft, equally chapped lips, his warm breath and the feeling of his hands cupping my cheeks. Once my brain restarted, I kissed him back with equal passion. For a moment I was unsure if this was a dream or real. Either way I intended to enjoy it. I knocked his helmet off so I could card my fingers through his messy hair like I had fantasized about so many times. It was greasy and dirty but it was perfect.
Eventually the world resumed and I could hear the hooting and cheering of the guys around us. I pulled back slightly from Liebgott, my cheeks flaming from more than just the cold.
"Hell of a kiss you laid on her, Joe." Malarkey teased.
"Hell of a dame." Liebgott replied, his eyes never leaving mine as one of his thumbs brushed gently over my swollen, bottom lip. I could not help the small smile, amazed that this was real.
Quickly he snuck a brief kiss once more before pulling himself up and sitting next to me, his arm tucking me into his side. Not that I complained.
"Why don't you kiss me after I sing to you? Huh?" Luz pouted but the huge smile on his face gave him away.
"I guess you didn't know the right song."
They laughed at my joke, the tension that typically hung over us like an axe gone for the time. The guys heckled one another and tried to convince me to sing again amidst pretending to recreate The Kiss scene Liebgott and I just gave them, like some high school play.
The snow and cold seeped through our clothes, threatening that we would never feel warmth again. The enemy sat in wait not far from us. For now, I pretended those dangers were imaginary. I laughed as Luz tried to sing like me, only to fail spectacularly, and be bombarded with snow balls.
Most of all, I felt a fresh breath of life in me as I scooted closer and laid my head on Liebgott's shoulder, his arm tight around my side. The faintest press of a kiss on the top of my head made my smile grow.
I wondered if I should have sang months ago or maybe it was this moment, that finally allowed me to show him how I felt.
His fingers thread through mine, and I realized it did not matter. I was happy. And that was something I planned on never letting go.
#easy company#band of brothers#Band of Brothers fandom#band of brothers fanfic#joe liebgott#joe liebgott x reader#joe liebgott x ofc#george luz#donald malarkey#buck compton#skip muck#reader insert#mzwrites
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Call of Fire
CHAPTER 2 - The Purpose
Rating: M
Word Count: 3K
Pairing: The Mandalorian x F!Reader
Warnings: slow burn fic, violence, injuries, death, grief, language
A/N: English is not my first language so apologies for any mistakes in grammar. I’m basically making stuff up about the reader’s powers but why not, right?
Summary: Taunting a bandit is never a good idea. Thank Maker, Mando is near to save the day.
< Previous Chapter // Masterlist
***
The Mandalorian stands on the top of the ramp to his ship looking in the direction of your escape, the stick still firmly clutched in his hand. He tosses it to the side with frustration and shakes his head to clear his mind and forget about the whole incident. He knows he has more pressing matters to attend to right now. He looks at the tracking fob which is now flashing rapidly with red light.
He lifts his head and looks again towards the woods where you have disappeared just moments ago—
“Shit!” he sighs.
------------------------------------------
You are trying to calm down and catch your breath. Your knees buckle, taking you to the ground. You sit exhausted, stabbing pain regularly shooting to your side.
“You mean ... like ... a real Mandalorian?” Zullu is standing above you, wiping sweat from her forehead with dirty hands, smearing mud all over it. “Like from my gran’s stories?”
“Yep,” you say simply.
And then you start laughing. Hysterically. It might be the exhaustion, or maybe you just can't believe you pulled off sneaking into a ship belonging to a Mandalorian. Maybe both … but you are currently laughing yourself silly.
Zullu is watching you awkwardly. She chuckles a couple of times until she is laughing with you and your guffaws echo through the forest.
“We should get back to the village,” you say eventually, still panting and your stomach aching from all the giggling. “I owe you—by the way—you totally saved me back there,” you admit and Zullu smiles at you in appreciation.
“D-do you think he’s following us?” Zullu is biting her nails and keeps looking over her shoulder as you walk.
“Relax. If he was, he would have already caught us.”
Oh, just how badly you have underestimated him.
***
You’re finally getting closer to the village when the sun is about to set. You’re exhausted but you can’t stop wondering, what is a Mandalorian doing on this planet.
Then again, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t know and if you are lucky, he’ll leave just as quickly as he appeared because the last thing the people in your village need right now, is more trouble. And he sure looked like a lot of trouble … broad-shouldered, mysterious, intriguing, and so intimidating … yeah, ... basically a definition of trouble.
“Gran used to say, most Mandalorians were mercenaries and bounty hunters. Maybe he’s really here because of ... you.” Zullu says out of nowhere, interrupting your—let’s be honest, slightly embarrassing—train of thought.
You shake your head when you process what she’s saying, “Nonsense, how could he possibly ... it’s been fifteen years ...”
“Yeah, but they don’t forget, you know,” Zullu frowns, looking genuinely worried. “You can’t be hiding here forever.”
“Fed up with me already?” you try to lighten the now heavy atmosphere. In fact, you are not overly fond of the conversation getting far too serious now.
“No … n-no, you know you’re my best friend”—she’s looking down at her feet as always when she’s struggling to find the right words—“it’s just … I feel … feel like you have a different … purpose, you know? ... Like in life? ... You’re not supposed to work on the field for the rest of it.”
“What’s wrong with the work on the field?”
“Except the fact that you hate it?”
You don’t like her sarcastic tone—yet—she’s got a point. You love the village, you love the people, but a farmer’s life is just not for you. You crave adventure. Maybe that’s why you so desperately seek it whenever a chance occurs. Eventually, you have to admit to yourself that—to some extent—that’s why you want to fight the bandits … and why you so recklessly pissed the Mandalorian off ...
… And then there’s the thing about your origin and your parents. Fifteen years ago, your parents left you here to hide you—to save you. The villagers took you in. You want to go to search for your parents but … you could never leave Zullu.
“I …,” Zullu continues when you’re being quiet for too long, “I just think … know actually … you’re meant to—.”
“And you?” you smile and try to steer the conversation away from you. “What’s your life purpose?”
She shrugs, “Uh ... don’t know... haven’t found my purpose yet.”
“Well, I’m sure yours is much greater than mine.”
Zullu exhales through her nose. “Don’t you wanna know why your parents left you here, hiding you from—” She looks over her shoulder one more time. “—the Empire?” she whispers the last words as if someone might be eavesdropping.
Oh no, here we go—the topic you wanted to avoid.
“The Empire is gone,” you reply, “my parents are ... too—most probably—so we might just never know.”
“A-and you’re okay with that? I mean… not knowing who you really are?”
“Yes,” you say resolutely. “And I’m fine with working on the farm for the rest of my life,” not so resolutely.
Zullu tilts her head sideways, raises her eyebrows at you and blinks slowly.
“Why are you bringing this up again?” irritation in your voice is now undeniable.
“Because… the Mandalorian—”
“Oh, Mandalorian-Shmandalorian ...” you snap.
“... and I haven’t told you but—” she continues, ignoring your comment, “—I have overheard mum talking about you. She said … said your parents—”
“Do you hear that?” you cut her off. “Listen ...”
And then you hear it again. The horn.
The horn!
What? No. No! It’s too early, it can’t be ... next week … it’s three months next week … they shouldn’t be here this early.
Wasting no more time, you burst into a sprint and run to the village as fast as you can. Zullu’s right behind you.
The villagers are just as confused as you are but are already gathering on the square nevertheless.
“What’s happening? They shouldn’t—” Zullu panics.
“I know,” you exhale, “They’re early. We’re not ready.”
“What do we do?”
You sigh but do not reply to her.
The bandits head straight to the barn to look for the stored food. Their leader is watching over the villagers who stand in a line as always. One of the bandits comes over and whispers something to his boss, but you can’t hear what he’s saying.
“Take everything, we’re gonna need it,” the leader replies to his mate and dismisses him with a simple wave of his hand.
With that … Shit! The fire’s back. It’s back and it’s running through your body like molten lava—
“You can’t!” you hear yourself crying out with a voice firmer than you expected. “You’re early … we couldn’t … the people will starve here!”
Zullu, who is standing next to you, turns her head in your direction wide-eyed.
You are not exactly sure why you did it—and what you should do next—but you can't let them steal all your supplies, right?
The leader takes a few steps forward and looks down at you.
Surprisingly enough, you’re not scared. You’ve seen a more intimidating gaze today and this guy is nowhere near as threatening as the Mandalorian. So you give him the most defiant look you have. And then—
Your little staring competition ends abruptly when the bandit slaps you with the back of his armoured hand and watches as you drop to your knees.
Son of a bitch, that hurt. That fucking hurt. You hold your jaw in your hand and flex it as you feel the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth.
--------------------------------------------
“Stupid … again … brave … but stupid,” the Mandalorian exhales to himself.
He’s lying on the top of the hill above the village, observing the whole scenario through the scope of his rifle.
He rises to his feet with an irritated grunt.
--------------------------------------------
You don’t remember ever being hit like this. Your jaw hurts but you’re determined not to let the bastard enjoy humiliating you. You need a few moments to recover but then you slowly get to your feet again, put on the same venomous look as before, and spit in the bandit’s face, spattering a considerable amount of blood mixed with your saliva all over his repulsive visage.
“You little ...” The bandit wipes the blood with the back of his hand and gropes for his blaster.
To your astonishment—and before you can come up with an action plan preventing you from being shot in the head—he suddenly halts his movement and is now looking over your shoulder, squinting at something behind you.
You follow his gaze and turn around to see ...
… the Mandalorian?
Huh, so he followed you back after all.
Only now can you take a proper look at him as he’s slowly approaching the village. Sure, you saw—and let’s not forget also fought—him back on his ship, but everything happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to fully scrutinize the way he looks.
You should not be so amazed. You used to listen to Zullu’s grandmother—eagerly hanging on her every word—when she told the stories about the Mando’ade to local children in the evenings. You knew the Mandalorians are bound with a creed and their culture revolves around war and battles which the elderly woman used to tell you about. Never have you imagined them to be this impressive though. So you just stand there with your mouth half open, taking in every detail of him as he comes nearer.
He’s tall, evidently agile and strong, judging by his arms and thighs. Well, and you also remember how hard his grip was on you this afternoon. His armour seems almost crimson now as it reflects the light of the setting sun. Beskar—you recall— that's what the old woman said their armour was made of. He has a rifle strapped to his back, a blaster by his side, and the wind plays with his cape as it flutters behind him. What a presence.
His helmet is pointed at the bandit standing next to you, piercing him with the same intimidating look he gave you when he caught you sneaking into his ship.
“Let them go,” he says, his voice dark and foreboding.
“We have no quarrel with you, Mando. Feel free to turn around and walk away.” The bandit is trying to stay calm but he’s just whistling in the dark.
“If you don’t want to start one, leave the supplies and never come back.” The Mandalorian is getting closer and closer to the square keeping the same slow resolute pace.
The other raiders have already noticed the disturbance and one by one began emerging from the barn, joining their leader on the square.
The Mandalorian doesn’t seem to care much that he’s outnumbered. He stops and rests his hand on his holster. He looks at the villagers and jerks his helmet to the side. They understand the gesture and back up slowly. You intend to do the same.
However, the bandit leader notices your intention, quickly wraps an arm around your neck and pushes you in front of him, hiding thus his body behind you. He’s now taking slow steps back—retreating—using your body as a human shield.
“Kill him,” he growls and drags you behind the cart that is conveniently standing in the square with half of your supplies already loaded up.
Your back is pushed to the offender's chest so you're facing away from all the action and you can only hear when the blasters begin shooting all at once. You have no idea what’s happening on the square behind you. You can hope for the best but you’re not entirely sure what it is. From what you know, the Mandalorian might be just as barbaric as the bandits so it might be out of the frying pan and into the fire for the village anyway.
After a good ten minutes of shooting, dull bangs and a couple of shrieks, there’s silence.
Suddenly—you’re being pulled out from the hideout. The last bandit standing is pushing you in front of him and you can feel a barrel of his blaster now pressed to your temple.
There are about ten bodies lying scattered around the square—lifeless—a smoke from the blaster shots still rising from some of them. With your peripheral vision, you can see a few of the survivors disappearing in the woods. They apparently decided to cut and run.
The Mandalorian is kneeling on one knee, leaning over one of the bodies, checking their vital signs. He swiftly draws his weapon again when he sees you two approaching.
“Drop the blaster, Mando,” the bandit warns. “Drop it, or I’ll kill her.”
The Mandalorian puts his hands up slowly and lays his blaster on the ground. However, as he raises to his feet, a flock of little whistling arrows shoots from his vambrace and flies towards you. You shut your eyes awaiting certain death. Instead, the pressure against your temple disappears, the arm around your neck eases its grip and the bandit falls dead behind you.
You raise your vision only to see the Mandalorian striding towards you. You’re still petrified and puzzled.
Suddenly, he stops midway, staring emptily behind you.
Um ... this is not good.
You slowly turn around and gulp.
A horde of bandits, probably the rest of their encampment is rushing towards you. Ten or fifteen brutes armed with blasters, knives and spears got alerted somehow and are ready to avenge their fallen comrades.
“Hide!” the Mandalorian shouts to you, raising his blaster again.
You do as you’re told. You run past him and across the square, noticing the huts are deserted. All the villagers must have already fled to the woods during the first shootout. You can only hope that Zullu escaped with them.
You dash into the woods not stopping for a moment. You can still hear the shooting behind you coming from the village. You should find the others, find Zullu, make sure she’s alright—
A figure comes from their hideout behind one of the trees about fifty feet in front of you.
It's one of the bandits.
“Going somewhere?” he smirks at you, his blaster already levelled at your chest.
He doesn’t wait for your reaction. A blaster shot echoes through the forest. For a second time today, you close your eyes awaiting the inevitable. When you open them again, Zullu is standing in front of you, her hands spread out in a protective gesture.
“No!” you cry out, tears already forming in the corners of your eyes.
She falls backwards to your arms and you slowly put her to the ground with trembling hands, holding her head in your lap as you kneel under her.
You hear the bandit in front of you burst into laughter. Horrible, gruesome laughter. Rage is building in your body, igniting every molecule. You look at him to see he’s raising his blaster once more to point it at you.
You’re going berserk, the fire is spiralling through you more intensely than ever before. You feel like your body would combust if you hold it back longer. You can’t fight it anymore. You won’t.
Somehow instinctively, you stretch your arms out in front of you, your fingers spread out but you’re slowly, convulsively closing them up. The bandit’s body lifts from the ground. Confused, he frantically kicks around, searching for solid ground under his feet. Then, his face distorts into a horrifying, painful grimace. You are holding him in front of you for a couple of seconds until you abruptly spread your arms with an excruciating scream. Following the movement of your hands, the bandit’s body is torn in half in front of your eyes. His lower half is tossed vigorously to the left, his torso to the right, colliding with the nearby tree with a splashy thud.
You have absolutely no understanding of what just happened but you have no time to think about it now. You quickly turn your attention to Zullu who is looking at you with glossy eyes.
There’s a nasty blaster wound in her belly and she’s covering it with her weak hands.
“Zullu—,” you cry out, “—fuck—what have you done?”
“I saved you, dummy.” Her chuckles turn to cough.
“... You’re gonna be alright. We’ll get you help … just stay with me, okay?” You try to shift yourself under her body so that you can attend to her wound.
She grabs you by your wrist and shakes her head. “I’m fine ... I’m ready ... f-found … my purpose ...,” she struggles to speak, “... now promise me, you’ll find yours.”
“Don’t talk like that—”
“I saw what you did … I’ve always known … you’re special.”
“I-uh ...” You’re lost for words.
“... I overheard mum saying … saying your father was a doctor—clone engineer … worked for the … Empire … betrayed them … they hunted him ... that’s why your parents hid you here.” Zullu coughs and takes a couple of deep breaths before she speaks again. “She knows where they are.” Zullu looks straight to your eyes as she continues, “I’m sorry I haven’t told you before. I was scared you would leave, but I know now that you have to go, you have to find them.”
“You’re my best friend, I won’t leave you, I need y—” a choking sense of despair causes your voice to crack before you are able to finish.
“You were never meant to stay on this p-planet ... you’re meant to do great things ... I know it ... find your parents, find your purpose … promise me ...”
You feel dizzy now. “Zullu—”
“Promise me!” she urges.
“I promise ...”
She smiles at you, raising her hand to touch your cheek but it collapses on the ground beside her and you witness the sparks in her eyes die out.
You burst into tears and tug her close to you. Hugging and squeezing her motionless body—consumed by aching grief—you cry.
You do not know how much time has passed but you finally find the strength to get up from the ground. You gently pick Zullu’s body up. The shooting that could have been heard from the village before has ceased.
You slowly walk towards the village, carrying Zullu in your arms. You don’t care about the possible threat that might still be lurking in the woods. Your mind is blank, you feel empty inside. There’s nothing left, only pain.
You have lost everything today.
***
< Previous Chapter // Masterlist
#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian fan fic#the mandalorian x reader#pedro pascal
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HAPPY DRAC-O-WEEN || PART 31 OF 31 ||
The sound of dripping stirred Dracula from his slumber, his body felt a strange mixture of light & heavy. Both mourning & relief. There was a strange silence about the place he were in, something held within the air but he couldn’t figure out what it could be. Eyes opened slowly, seeing the stone ceiling above him, the way the candlelight flickered onto the condensation suggested he was somewhere dark, somewhere underground, a cellar perhaps. But it couldn’t have been any ordinary cellar, at least most cellars don’t have beds within them, almost like nurses beds. With a soft groan, Dracula sat up on his elbows, letting his eyes adjust to the light. It’d been at least a century that he’d been somewhere that relied solely on candlelight to illuminate a room. A shuffle in a seat drew his attention to a woman in what seemed to be a blue cloak, a...habit. If he could breathe, it would certainly catch in his throat. “Oh good, you’re awake at last.” a thick, chirpy Dutch accent called back to him. Dracula felt so tired & above all confused, staring at the woman until she pushed past his blurred vision by coming to his bedside “Agatha?” he called out weakly, trying to make sense of it all. “Yes, Count Dracula. You are at my side once again it seems, you’re harder to distance myself from than anyone else.” she slid into a seat, looking at him with a look of scepticism. “What’s going on? How am I here?” he asked trying to sit himself upright until he felt cool slim fingers pressing him down again. “That is not the question we have to ask ourselves.” she urged, dropping her nose so she could look at him with an arched brow. “But if you must know, it seems that those lives you have taken within your 500 years not only live on through you but you continue to live on through them. I seem to be the prioritised choice, which makes sense when you think about it, I was the only one after all who came closer than anyone to understand the beast.” “I feel I’m hardly a beast, I haven’t been this tired in centuries.” he wheezed out and tired he looked, his eyes could barely keep open, his body just hurt, almost as though he were mortal. Agatha watched on at him, arching her neck to get a better look, observing the man who were much different to the woman she’d met at those convent gates. “The question isn’t how but why?” Agatha urged, she particularly enjoyed watching people figure things out for themselves. “Because your blood is within my blood, not only did I carry you, you carried me, all the people whose lives I’ve taken I can easily return to like a terrible book I just can’t seem to finish.” Van Helsing had a glowing smile on her lips at that. “And you can’t bare a bad book, can you?” another arch of her brow, this time rather than judging him, she was challenging him. Dracula’s dark eyes flicked to hers for a brief moment before looking ahead once more, staring at more stone wall dripping with liquid. He lay quiet just then, thinking things over. How did he get here, what had just happened that sent him within his own mind. He was storming the foundation himself and...Vlad. A jolt in his memory brought about the flash of a vision: Vlad’s head on a spike, where it was always meant to be. Surely he would be here with him, inside his veins, they’d shared blood so surely-- “Vladimir Tepes is not here, Count Dracula.” Agatha interjected. “Remember, we’re connected, I can hear your thoughts.” His eyes scanned the walls, recounting everything that had happened and how it came to Vlad being beheaded. His hands began to shake and eyes filled with tears “They killed him. They stole him away from me just when we’d found each other again. We loved each other & we were going to rule--” he began to babble, feeling his heart burn with pain. “--I’m surprised someone as cruel & deadly as you could love someone but I’m afraid that notion was never returned to you.” Agatha remained steady then, knowing her words were unkind but it better to speak the truth. “What are you talking about, of course he did--” “No. He didn’t.” she spoke more sternly this time, taking hold of the conversation like a riding bull “He was using you to win the throne, making you do all the dirty work, finding out information, infiltrating the foundation, speaking to Mr Harker, then he was going to make you his second man.” Dracula took a complete offence to this, cheeks puffing with anger at how a nun could talk about his relationship. “Think about it.” Agatha urged “Whenever you tried to initiate things, did he reciprocate those feelings?” Dracula’s puffed cheeks slowly dropped as he thought things through. He seemed to avoid him all the more the plan were staring to come together. “And didn’t he just steal a human away from you just now? Almost as though he was power hungry, and you just let him.” Annoyingly, as always, Agatha was right. Piecing these things together made Dracula begin to shake once more, trembling with heart break before he burst out into tears. “Oh!” she beamed at the sight, being somewhat cruel in her actions “The vampire does cry, that’s new.” His tears faltered then, taking in a deep breath, realising that he didn’t want that in front of her. His lips pursed in annoyance instead. Until his original question remained in his mind: How is he here? “You’re talking to me, an awful lot, just like before.” his eyes narrowed as he watched her. Agatha rose from her seat, walking away from his bedside again. Dracula sat up immediately, honing his focus on the nun “You’re distracting me again, Agatha Van Helsing. What are you up to?” just then, he climbed out of the bed, seeing himself back in Jonathans robes after he’d torn at his face. “You’re a creature of consequence.” she turned on her heel, raising her chin to look up at him. “All creatures, even humans, have to suffer for their actions.” “You’re killing me, aren’t you?” “No.” her hands folded together as she kept herself calm, and stood strong against the vampire. “I’m not the one killing you.”
A strange sucking sound grew to become an overwhelming sound of vacuum. The surroundings had melted away from that of underground cellar in St Mary’s Convent Budapest to what seemed as though they stood in middle of a tornado. Dracula had to shield his eyes from the dust, squinting to see if he could find any sign of, well, anything beyond this whirlwind. There were screams and moans twirling through the dust, swirling into his hair & clothing. “Where am I?” he called out to the woman in front of him. Agatha still remained still, hands neatly folded as thought the wind didn’t rock her. “Your turmoil!” she called back against the noise “Your victims, your pure unfiltered chaos! All wrapped into one great storm!” Dracula grabbed at the woman then, snarling down at her “Put me back, put me back at that Foundation!” his eyes were wild & shining, matching the mayhem of their surroundings. Pain, excruciating agony but at least the surroundings were quiet aside from his cries. His eyes laid upon the stake of which pierced through his chest, splintering through his heart. A hand reached up to clutch at it & found it covered in blood, having already attempted without himself knowing. His breath wobbled, blood, his own, trickled up from his throat. This was his end. He’d never thought it would be something like this, he always imagined in a much grander scheme, a ruler, adored, not... inside a research centre. He cried out again, eyes meeting the head of Vlad where heartbreak & anger were at war with one another. He choked on his blood once more. How did this happen? The position of the stake were just out of reach for him to pull out. “D,” a female voice called out, tears streaming down her face. “I had to do it.” her voice waved. His eyes looked from the stake until they met beautiful shining brown ones. Lucy Westenra was the one to make him meet his demise, who’d have thought? “I saw what you was planning.” she dropped to her knees, small hands covered in his blood, trembling just as much as he did. “I’m so sorry, D. I couldn’t---” she hiccupped “---I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let you go through with it. Not again.” despite her anger, she was riddled with remorse, clutching at him as though she wasn’t ready to lose him, like she hadn’t placed the stake there herself. A long sharp finger came up, giving a soft wag as he spoke “Lucy Westenra, as long as I live in your memory, I will continue to haunt you for the rest of your Octobers.” he snarled at her one final time. Two people he’d accepted into his life, both betrayed him.
The tornado like purgatory returned once more, and Dracula found himself staring at it’s bleak grey walls. “You’re dying, Count Dracula. At long last. This is the end of the line.” Agatha called out once more. Dracula looked paler than usual, and if anything, absolutely petrified by the idea. “The monster that once was, no one to love him, crushed by those he thought loved him, and murdered by his finest experiment. His last experiment.” She corrected. “A foul stinking beast, gone. A final bow. How does that feel?” All this time he’d managed to avoid death, escaping it’s every sharp claw, and now it had been taken from him, just as he were rising the ranks. The sounds of his victims from five centuries seemed to wail together, rising and roaring at him in their anger. How dare he be upset that he time came before he wanted. Hands threw over his ears to try and drain them out but it was no use. The Count dropped them to his thighs, bursting into tears once again, completely defeated & exhausted. “I have blood on my hands that will never come clean.” he wailed “I’m sorry! Agatha,” he closed the gap between them “I don’t know what to do, how could I have let that man get into my head! Agatha Van Helsing, please help me, please let me repent.” he begged, clutching onto the bottom of her habit, willing her to help him in anyway that she could. Within the commotion, a door appeared between them, slowly opening to reveal a bright white light, and within it, his home. Wallachia. The sound of his Mother & Sister laughing within the kitchen of his childhood home. The smell of snow, stew, and wood burning swirled his purgatory. He looked at it in complete bafflement, bewildered more like. Was this... his heaven? His wide eyes & slack jaw looked back to Agatha, who was looking beyond the door herself & gave a short laugh “Hmm! That seems like a nice place to spend eternity.” she bounced her shoulders in delight at the sight. “Why? After all this time, after all these people I’d killed, slaughtered, and tortured?” “You have to remember, Count Dracula, this is life, everybody dies here. But not only that-
-The devil himself was an angel in the beginning. It’s time for you to go home.”
#gif credit gatissed#ITS THE END#THE END THE END#i teared up a little#like it's the end??? but also agatha was there in HIS end????#he wanted agatha as he was dying ya'll#Claes Bang#Dracula#Dracula 2020#Dracula BBC#BBC Dracula#Netflix Dracula#Dracula Netflix#Count Dracula#Claes Bang Thirst Squad
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War of Hearts
Read on ao3
Summary: Simon and Agatha's arranged marriage is about to begin with a beautiful ceremony, but when someone crashes their wedding, it could put a wrench in their plans.
Requested by anonymous This is basically that Malec kiss in Shadowhunters but with snowbaz.
Word count: 1680
A/N: The title is from the song War of Hearts by Ruelle, which you should definitely listen to while reading this. (There is an acoustic version of this song that is so beautiful and makes for a more painful, thought-provoking listen. Like, I’ve got this whole other scene idea to go with that version that I won’t put here because I have rambled enough, but I highly recommend giving that version a listen as well if you have the time.)
Also, I deleted a couple of fics a while back, so this is my new 100th fic on ao3!! :D Thank you all for sticking around and continuing to read my fics. I wouldn't still be here without all of your love and support <3
***
As Simon stands at the altar, waiting for the moment that is supposed to change his life forever, he forces himself to take deep breaths. Now is not the moment to be panicking about whether this was the right decision. Granted, none of it was really his decision, but he’s still worried, wondering if there was something he should have done differently.
But then the processional begins, and he no longer has any time to wonder. It’s too late.
The doors open to reveal the two bridesmaids. They look beautiful in matching blue dresses, and they are followed by Simon’s bride-to-be, dressed in a white dress that flares out at her waistline and flows elegantly out behind here with elegant gold detailing the bodice.
Her hair is braided away from her face and is draped over one shoulder, shimmering an almost gold color, and she smiles when she looks up at Simon.
She looks beautiful, Simon thinks.
He may not be fully inclined to marry her, but he has to admit that this is a beautiful ceremony, and if he has to be forced to marry anyone, he’s glad that it’s her, one of his closest friends.
He even finds himself smiling at her as she moves closer to him. Maybe this day won’t be as horrible and dreaded as he used to think it would. Is it possible that an arranged marriage isn’t as bad he has believed it to be?
He hopes so because after today, there is no going back.
Agatha looks up at Simon, and he tries to ground himself, hoping that he doesn’t look quite as lost as he feels. He reaches out a hand to her as she steps up to him. She smiles at him again, but he finds it hard to meet her eyes when he knows that neither of them really wants this. They decided to go through with this, though, so he forces himself to smile and act like he wants to be there.
They exchange the traditional vows, and Simon tries to think of it as promising to be her best friend until death does them part. It’s practically the same thing, right? They love each other, and it may not be the way they’re meant to, but it can be enough. They can make this work.
Simon is just about to say those life-changing words, the ones that will change everything and seal their fate, when the chapel doors slam open, the sound as they hit the wall stopping Simon with his mouth hanging open.
He and Agatha turn to see who is interrupting their wedding, and Simon finds none other than Baz Pitch standing there, looking like he can’t believe that he’s doing this either. He quickly pulls himself together, though, and stares intently at Simon, hoping that he isn’t too late.
“What is that vampire doing here?” The Mage hisses audibly.
No one responds to him, though. All eyes are on Baz, including Simon’s, and as his eyes find Baz, it’s like the world freezes, everything around him fading away so that all he can see is one man.
They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes, and in this moment, Simon has a similar experience, only it’s every moment that he has shared with Baz: Growing up next to him in a room at the top of a tower at an old boarding school. Following him down to the Catacombs that lay beneath the chapel night after night. A particularly bad fist fight where he went flying down the stairs. Getting lost in the woods and having to work together to find their way out. Watching Baz run across the football pitch. Glaring at each other across the dining hall. Trying to prove that Baz is a vampire. Spending Christmas together. And most importantly: kissing in a burning forest.
Simon watches it all play out with a deep ache in his chest.
He still doesn’t quite know why things played out the way they did after that night. He only remembers Baz inviting Agatha over to his house the next day and feeling immediately guilty about everything that happened between them the night before. (As well as that morning, right before she walked into the library.)
Simon could barely look at Baz after that, and they definitely didn’t ever talk about it. He couldn’t. If they had, Simon would have had to face more than his questionable attraction to a guy. He would have had to face the fact that he had betrayed Agatha in a way that he never meant to.
Telling her what happened would only make him feel better and bring her pain. He couldn’t do that to her. She didn’t deserve that. Their arranged marriage was pain enough for the both of them. He didn’t want to make that worse by admitting that he might have feelings for someone else.
Especially when that same person became one of his closest friends after they graduated.
Has Simon imagined what it would be like if things were different? Yes. Has he woken up countless mornings with a problem he couldn’t ignore after dreaming of a certain handsome vampire? He is embarrassed to admit that yes, he has.
But has he acted on those unrelenting feelings? No. Not since that last kiss in the library.
Anytime he is with Baz, he forces himself to focus on the fact that they are just friends. Friends who kissed a little back when they were young.
Now, they’re the closest of friends, and that’s not going to change.
Except that Baz refused to even attend Simon’s wedding. And now here he is, interrupting it in a way just as dramatic as when he returned to Watford for their eighth year after being gone for two months.
Simon wants to run over to him, the same way he wanted to back then, but he isn’t sure what he wants to do more: punch him or kiss him.
Maybe both. That’s the way it’s always been between them. A clash between hate and love. The hate melted away a long time ago, though, leaving only one thing in its wake, one thing that Simon has been trying to ignore for over several years now.
The wedding ceremony comes back to Simon slowly, and he realizes that everyone is waiting to see what he’ll do.
The thing is that he doesn’t know what to do.
He knows what he wants to do, but what is the right move here? Is there anything that he can do here that won’t wind up hurting anyone? He doesn’t think so.
He hears Penny behind him asking, “Are you going to be alright, Simon?”
It’s enough to snap him out of his haze, but it takes him another moment and Agatha saying his name before he is able to look away from Baz.
Simon can’t hear anything except for the pounding of his heart in his chest, and as he meets Agatha’s eyes, he feels guilt and a tightness in his chest as he’s torn between two people, two paths, two very different futures. One that has been planned out for him and one that is riddled with uncertainties.
He knows that everyone is watching him and waiting for him to do something, and it feels like he’s suffocating under the weight of all of their eyes.
“I…” he starts, and he has to stop to take in a quick breath. “I can’t breathe.”
“I know. It’s okay.” Her voice is soft and encouraging, and Simon knows then that she doesn’t deserve this. She deserves to be happy and not tied down to someone who is in love with someone else.
“I can’t do this.” He watches as her smile slowly falters, but he keeps going. “I thought we were doing the right thing, but this isn’t it.”
She shakes her head, but she doesn’t seem sad, or even all that surprised. “You don’t have to explain.”
“Agatha, I’m sorry.”
She smiles softly at him, closer to her real smile. “You deserve to be happy, Si. I’ll be fine.”
Simon wants to believe her, so he takes a deep breath and turns back out to face everyone.
He looks towards Baz and his gaze catches on the shimmering green suit and the eyeliner the lines his eyes, highlighting their bright silver color. He can almost swear that there is a bit of glitter in his hair, which hangs in waves around his face, the blue ends of it brushing his shoulders and catching in the light and making him stand out even more. He is breathtakingly stunning, and once again, Simon finds himself unable to take his eyes off of him. Only, this time, he doesn’t have to.
Taking a deep breath, he steps down from the altar, his movements slow and calculated. He still isn’t sure that this is the right move, but he thinks that it’s the right move for him and that’s what matters, right? Who cares what his father thinks?
His father never cared about him. He only cared about what an alliance with Agatha’s family could bring for him. He has never been interested in hearing about Simon’s thoughts or feelings, so why should Simon care what he thinks.
He shouldn’t, which is why he keeps walking back down the aisle, his footsteps picking up pace as his feet carry him closer and closer to Baz. His father makes one last attempt to stop him, but Simon says, “Enough.”
He’s done with him. He is no longer going to listen to his demands.
Just a couple of more steps and he reaches Baz. He doesn’t pause as he reaches out and grabs his lapels, pulling him in and kissing him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
He doesn’t care what everyone else must be thinking. All he cares about is this one man.
Baz is all he has ever cared about even if it has taken until now for him to finally admit it.
#snowbaz#simon snow#baz pitch#carry on#wayward son#rainbow rowell#snowbaz fic#snowbaz fanfiction#my writing#war of hearts#there was another scene after the ending#but i cut it#bc it didn't fit#and that's where the dialogue bit of anon's prompt went#oops
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The Sky in Your Eyes (Inglourious BasterdsxReader)
Requested by @svonschroeder
@owba-chan @inglourious-imagines @war-obsessed
Let me know if you wanna be tagged in these! :)
"Y/n! Y/N LOOK OUT!"
The only times you ever heard Hugo Stiglitz was grumbling under his breath, or muttering a forced 'thank you' if you treated him for a wound, or handed him some food.
You never heard him shout like that before.
It shocked you for a moment.
Then you realized what he was yelling about.
A nazi seemed to rise from the dead, covered in his own blood, a bullet through his eye, as he hit you on the back of the head with a rock.
You were stunned, a dull pain shocked you as the world around you began to gray, and blood trickled down your neck.
You stumbled.
You heard gunfire around you seem to be echoing from miles away. The basterds' and nazis' voices seemed to be a battle field away.
You fell.
"Y/N!? Y/N?!" You looked up, and saw nothing.
Nothing.
"Y/N SAY SOMETHING!"
You couldn't see, but you knew that voice. You heard that sense of urgency and anxiety every time something went wrong on a mission.
"Smitty?!" You blinked, desparately hoping you'd see him again... He was your best friend, after all...
You felt someone hold on to you. His hands were shaking. They were covered in something dark and vengeful.
Blood...
His or yours or a nazi's, you didn't know.
But he held onto you.
"Smitty, I-I'm fucking blind..."
"No, no, no, don't say that, it's ok, you just...you got blood in your eyes, that-" You felt his hand against your face. He was wiping blood that had trickled into your eyes, but it didn't change a thing.
"Smitty, no...I..I can't see..."
You realized the gunfire was beginning to stop. You could hear a final distant thud from a bloody baseball bat.
Your heart raced, you started panicking, "SMITTY. I CAN'T- I CAN'T FUCKING-"
"Sh, sh, it's...It's gonna be ok, relax, sh...." You felt his arms wrap around you...
You let tears slip onto his shoulder.
No one, not a single nazi, or basterd had ever seen you cry, and it was disconcerting to the basterds in the distance.
Frightening, even.
To the point where they all knew something had indeed gone horribly wrong, it wasn't just Utivich being dramatic.
You heard muffled crunching leaves behind you under a boot. Someone rested a hand on your back awkwardly, for a few seconds, giving tentative taps. You heard a low voice, "Ja....It's ok..."
Hugo pulled his hand away as if you were a piping hot stove, unsure how to react at all.
He’d already done what he was trained to do: Killed the nazi that almost killed you....but even to Hugo Stiglitz, that wasn’t enough.
You heard someone running close. "ALDO WANTS TO...Wh..What's going on?!" Hirschberg came to a halt a few meters away, confused at the sight.
For the past two years, the basterds had an ongoing secret bet about whether you'd end up with Donny, or Aldo. They'd had brawls over you...not that you knew of, because if you did, you would literally kill them.
And there you were, in Smithson Utivich's arms...What confused Hirschberg even more was the fact that Hugo was touching you...no, comforting you (in his own way, of course...)
Then he realized it.
You were hurt...
The next few hours were a daze, lost to the winds.
You woke up in a bed, assuming the basterds had brought you back to the inn you were currently all hiding out in.
The instant you stirred, you felt a hand on your shoulder.
Wicki's voice was soft, almost lamentful, "Stay. You need to rest..."
"W-Wicki...is it ever gonna come back?"
Wicki, Donny, and Aldo turned to each other. They had hoped you'd gotten your eyesight back when you woke up.
"...Just rest for now, mausebar." Wicki, along with Hirschberg, Smitty, and Andy were in the camp betting you would end up with Donny. Wicki tended to call you mausebar, something Hugo (who was betting on Aldo) once begrudgingly explained to you: A german term of endearment. It meant mouse-bear. Clearly, Wicki alluded to the differences between you and the Bear Jew...a bit 'in the face' but Aldo and Donny never caught on.
Just as well.
The bet was a bit heated, at times causing factions amongst the basterds, not that you noticed.
God.
If you'd noticed, they'd all be done for, and they knew it.
They all cared about you...
Even Hugo.
While you were still asleep, Wicki was bandaging the gash on the back of your head, and Donny and Aldo managed to call a truce.
For your sake.
You felt a hand slip into yours, and give a tight, reassuring squeeze. The hand was rough from calluses, years of blistering winters and endless fighting. Wicki reassured you, "I'll be outside if you need anything. Donny and Aldo are here, ok?"
You nodded, and felt Wicki's hand slip away from yours, "Don't kill them, mausebar."
You smiled a little, which calmed everyone in the room down a little, including yourself.
You heard Aldo ask, "How do you feel, little lady?"
"How long's it been?" They could have said twenty years, and you would have believed it.
"You feel ok? We can get you a d-"
"How long's it been?" Your tone came off more forceful than you intended, but you couldn't help it. You felt trapped...
"Just a day, darlin'. Don't worry, everything's gon' be alright, darlin'."
Donny let it slide the first time Aldo called you 'darlin' But twice?
What happend to the truce?
Donny sat by you.
Aldo shot him a glare.
You tried to stay calm. You may have been blind, but you weren't oblivious. You could tell there was some tension around you.
You tried to change the subject, "What's the day like?"
Aldo sat on your left, opposite of Donny, and held your hand...
Normally, Donny would have been infuriated...But he didn't want to hurt you.
He wanted to make you feel better, even if Aldo was part of it.
"Sky's about as perty as it's ever been. Spring's rollin' in. Got plenty of clouds here and there, bright blue sky, just like the 'un in the Smoky Mountains."
Donny rolled his eyes, there he went again with the goddamn Smoky Mountains.
Donny smirked, "Kinda cold...bit like Boston this time of year. Not freezing, just enough to wanna stay in."
Aldo glanced away to hide his scowl...
When he turned back, he found your head was resting in Donny's lap as he ran his hands through your hair.
That would have infuriated Aldo, but he knew it calmed you down, and if there was anything you needed, it was to stay calm.
Both the sergeant and lieutenant were relieved to see a soft smile on your face as you heard about the day.
You got a melancholic feeling when they talked about the rest of the boys' nazi hunting.
They looked at each other... stories and summaries weren't enough. You were upset, and lonely, and they knew it.
You broke the silence with a question they didn't have an answer to themselves, "What's gonna happen?"
They both stalled for a second, then Donny asserted, "You're gonna get better, that's what, kid."
You grimaced...that was far from what you thought was going to happen.
Aldo nodded, though you couldnt' see, you felt his grip get a little tighter around your hand, "You're a basterd. You have to."
"I'm blind."
Aldo smirked.
You could hear the smirk in his voice, "You're the goddamn reason this team hasn't fallen apart."
You spoofed...he wasn't wrong....And that was what worried you. "Yeah...and what happens when the OSS discharges me?"
They were quiet again.
They hadn't quite thought of that yet.
Donny then said the first thing that came to his mind, "You get to go home, you'd be safe."
You shook your head. You knew he meant well, but that felt like a nail in your heart. "I don't get to go home, I get to be a fuckin' burden on my mother."
Donny rested his hand on your cheek, "Hey, you ain't a burden to anyone."
Aldo said, "Besides, what's all this talk about goin' home? This may not even be permanent. Doc we got for you said so."
You didn't say a word.
You didn't have to.
They could read you like a book.
Donny tried to make you feel better, "Hey, come on kid. You're a basterd, for cryin' out loud. Krauts gave you a cool nickname, ya know? And-"
"That doesn't mean anything."
Aldo countered, "Means everything, Private L/N. You're one hell of a fighter."
You knew he meant you'd fight through it, but you couldn't help but feel like you'd hit rock bottom. "Not much of a fighter if I can't fucking see what I'm fighting."
"Hey." You heard a slight shift in his tone. The one he gave when he reminded the basterds who the fuck he was. "You still owe me twenty-seven scalps. You're not goin' anywhere. You joined my command, you took on a debit, one you owe me personally, ya remember that?"
You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, I remember. But, you gotta remember I'm now useless to the team."
Donny froze.
He couldn't stand that.
He stopped playing with your hair for a moment. "You're not fucken useless. Beethoven was fucken deaf, and people still listen to that guy's music." He shifted a little, "I'm more into Glenn Miller and all that, but...Anyway, you ever hear of Dr. John Nash? Guy's got schizophrenia, and he's a fucken genius. And for fuck's sake, y/n, the presiden't in a fucking wheelchair."
Aldo raised his eyebrow, "Donny, how do you...."
Donny shrugged off the questioning look. "My sister was born deaf, you know...She's the smartest kid I ever knew. You know what she does, y/n? Works in a navy base, breaking codes. Doc's got you checked out, and we don't know if it's permanent or not, but if it is, it doesn't mean a fucken thing. Doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you, you're still you, and I-" Donny caught himself...he was a man of his word (most of the time) and remembered the truce. "We...all love you, you're a fucken basterd, y/n, and nothing's ever gonna change that."
Aldo nodded, a bit stunned. Donny wasn't always the most articulate basterd...abd normally Aldo would have chewed him out for the truce, but some things were more important.
You were..
To all of them. Every day, one basterd stayed with you until everyone else came back. Then, Donny and Aldo would set aside their rivalry, sit down. And talk to you. They'd tell you about the mission, the scalps, and what the sky was like.
One day, they didn't.
Their rivalry almost cost them their lives.
And you knew it.
You got the rest of the basterds to talk.
Smitty tried to defend himself with a plate, hoping it would hold some worth between him and your wrath.
The rest of the basterds stood behind him.
He was your best friend...you'd have to get through him before you got to them..
Smitty was laughing nervously, still clinging onto the plate, "But you can see now...isn’t that-isn't that amazing?!"
You scowled, "The only reason I'm not killing any of you right now is because we almost lost Aldo and Donny."
You stormed past them.
You felt stupid for not realizing they had all been keeping it from you.
And even more because you couldn't figure it out on your own before.
You opened the door to the room where Aldo and Donny were resting.
Aldo mumbled, "Y/n? Y/n. You're here?"
You crossed your arms, "Yeah, and?"
Donny knew something was up, "Uh...you...you look like...yourself today..." he could tell you were angry.
Didn't quite connect the dots yet.
Neither of them had.
You walked toward them, "Beautiful day out, boys." You looked at him, "It's a shame you almost never saw another one..."
Aldo and Donny smiled as they looked at each other, then you, "You can see again?"
"Mostly..." It wasn't as good as it was before, but you could manage, and you would be staying with the basterds. After all a basterd's work was never done.
You scowled as you crossed your arms and looked at your sergeant and lieutenant.
It appeared as if your work with those two was never ending.
Especially when Donny and Aldo tried to derail the conversation. Donny said "I...I bet you can't wait to get back out there with us, huh kid?"
You pulled a chair up between their beds.
"Yeah? And speaking of bets, what's this I hear about a bet between you boys?"
Donny and Aldo glanced at each other. For a moment they both were relieved that you were alright.
Then Donny smirked.
Aldo narrowed his eyes.
The truce was off.
It was every man for himself...normally they would have jumped at the nearest opportunity to try to win you over...
But...to Aldo the Apache, and the Bear Jew, you were currently the scariest person in the room.
Seeing you smile again was all they wanted...
Well...
That, and to win the bet, each hoping to be the one to make you smile every day of your life.
As for yourself, you were annoyed. You crossed your arms and started walking out.
You had a bone to pick with your entire team...and they knew it.
"Y/n, wait."
You sighed, "Sir?"
Aldo was a bit taken back hearing you call him sir again. "What's the sky like?"
You sighed again, and looked back at them.
They both looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for answers, hoping to spend each day by your side.
You knew things would settle between them at some point. For fuck's sake, it had to, or someone was really going to die some day...
Everything would fall into place eventually...and you knew your place was there, with them. You did your best to tell them about the day, and get them to see the world through your eyes, and settle them down.
But when they looked through your eyes, they remembered what they were fighting for. They remembered they were brothers in arms. And they remembered you came before their egos.
Donny broke the silence, just as he drifted to sleep, his hand over his stomach, resting over the bandages covering his bullet wound, "You're....you're not mad, are you kid?"
Aldo looked to you tentatively, waiting for an answer, waiting for some relief.
You sighed, and smiled softly, "No...No, everything's gonna be ok."
That was all they could really hope for, until they found a way to end the war, until they could learn to see the world through your eyes, and learn to set aside their rivalry.
That hope was all they had when they looked into your smiling eyes.
#Inglourious Basterds#inglourious basterds imagine#Quentin Tarantino#Donny Donowitz#the bear jew#aldo raine#aldo the apache#Wilhelm Wicki#hugo stiglitz#gerold hirschberg#smithson utivich
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hey y’all what’s up shit happened in d&d today, i ate some ice cream, nightcore dam dadi do is on, and it’s time! to! write!
content warning for... well it’s trickster mode. but also an implication of vomit and a lot of being very angry
You didn’t think things could get any worse. But you thought that before, too, when you didn’t even know that there was a murderer on the loose.
You really need to stop thinking that, actually, the universe always takes it as a challenge.
A few... however long it’s been, you wouldn’t even have thought this was that bad. You’re on a relatively safe part of the Battlefield, away from the war you can still hear happening in the distant part of your brain in charge of processing that mess. Jaynne is still next to you, safe for now (for now). You caught a glimpse of Aerith and Zierre, and your relief that they really are okay, it wasn’t just a trick of the universe when you saw them through Jaynne’s watch. Nobody seems to be in immediate danger. Nobody is dying, not even bleeding! At least, nobody you know the whereabouts of!
Except that the air tastes... strange. Sticky. Spicy? But sweet? And something (Ritzie) tried to pull you two to the Battlefield against your will. And you were pushed here by a big explosion of something sparkly enough that your eyes still burn. Probably the source of the taste, actually, when you have a second to think about it. Not great. Your stomach fills with a dread that would come up as bile if you had eaten anything since you went god tier. You grip Jaynne’s hand tighter as something, a shadow maybe, pulls your gaze skyward.
You’ve been imagining what reuniting with Zierre would be like since you found out she was alive. This is not it. Because everything in your body screams that the troll in front of you is not the same troll you love. Everything in your body is rejecting the way the air gets thicker, sweeter, harder to think through. You’ve struggled to think in your life -- for most of your life, actually -- but the second the eye-strain colored, umbrella-twirling, compliment-slinging figure launches herself at the two of you thinking feels like wading through grub sauce and if you were, say, some sort of computer program, you would be glitching out of existence from the sheer overwhelming sensations that rocket your think pan to try to make you stop thinking, to make you pull in, to accept the embrace of whatever force is zapping Zierre around you, washing you all in bright colors and playing a tune you don’t think you’ve heard, but that might be because you can’t fucking think!
None of the words being fired at you make it through to your think pan, but you don’t think they’re supposed to. They’re doing their job, scrambling any thoughts you might’ve had and pinning you between an instinct to run and the feeling in your blood pusher that makes you want nothing more than to take Zierre’s face in your hands and give her a big kiss. She’s just talking, talking and talking and then you’re being lifted in the air, which almost shocks you more than everything else because Zierre, despite the color change and the new hair accessory you can’t name, still looks like she might blow away in a steady breeze. You’re usually the one picking people up, except for maybe Aerith. The name makes a little spike of nerves shoot through your chest.
And then you’re being lifted and being teleported around, further deepening the dread in your stomach and making your vision swirl in a way that doesn’t seem... normal. Too much like an actual spiral. Too much like an --
You’re back on the ground but Zierre is hovering in the air, zapping around. The lights still dance around you. Jaynne is trying to talk to her, you’re trying to interject, but you feel like you’re freezing from the feet up. If you could feel your face, it’d probably be on fire, because somewhere in the little jabs and questions and comments Zierre keeps complimenting you, and you were somehow prepared for that least of all? Your thoughts start turning into questions? This can’t be right?
Jaynne explodes for the second time in less than an hour.
Except this time it isn’t in an attempt to save her life.
No, it’s the same sparkly explosion as before, the kind that leaves your mouth feeling weird and your eyes hurting. You reel back, stumble back a few steps. You rub the sparkles out of your eyes, and.
And.
And.
And in front of you are two figures of living eye-strain, talking and laughing and twirling around together in the air, existing faster than you can comprehend. Zierre is still there, as bright as before, twirling her umbrella. And the other is Jaynne, bright blue and reminding you too vividly of the indigo that coated your arms not long ago, except wrong, too bright, too much. You feel like you’ve lost them all over again, somehow, and your blood pusher threatens to give up under the pressure, cracking under the slap of grief all over again, because they are not themselves anymore, and you don’t know what’s replaced them.
This is too much. You’re trembling on the spot, unable to summon the will to move or talk or resist or even summon the wind, like you did the first time you ended up on the Battlefield. This wasn’t supposed to go like this! This wasn’t supposed to be like this! This wasn’t how you’d imagined this would go at all! The anger bubbles up inside of you, hot against the chill of confusion, and you almost don’t notice when the two start talking about you, almost don’t notice when they talk about kissing you, almost don’t notice when someone dares someone else.
And you’re not sure whose lips are on yours, but the part of you that clings on before everything goes sparkly thinks about how two of your three flushed kisses have been like this, someone kissing you when you weren’t expecting it, yet you welcomed it.
Damn, it doesn’t feel so bad now, does it?!
The grin that splits your lips is more than you’ve ever felt before, and your blood is rushing through your veins with a new vigor. You can’t even remember why you were so sad before! This is great! Things are great! You were looking at it all wrong, you didn’t lose your matesprits, silly, they were just waiting for you to not be such a bummer! Bummers are no fun, didn’t you know? Zierre only wanted to help you all! And she did such a good job!
You think you’re laughing? You’re probably laughing! Nothing has ever been so funny in your whole life! And you’re with your two favorite people in the whole wide world! All together again, with nothing wrong! Even when Zierre tackles you to the ground, because you love sparring! And anyway, you can just get back up! Remember, you’re immortal! You keep laughing. It’s more like giggling, you suppose, but that’s even cuter! You lie on the ground for a moment before Zierre pulls you up, and you two are spinning, teleporting, and you almost go in for another kiss before something distracts you for a moment too long and you lose the thought to the sweet air.
Oh, you realize, Ritzie is here! And you’re pretty sure you were mad at her, but it’s okay! Water under the bridge, right? You’re pretty sure that’s the phrase, but you lose it as soon as it passes, like... liquid under a... Huh! But it’s fine, you don’t need to worry about it, because there’s nothing to worry about anymore!
You’re smiling, laughing. Smiling and laughing. You manage to give Zierre another kiss on the cheek, or maybe three? You don’t really bother keeping track, because who needs to! There’ll be plenty of kisses to go around and plenty more coming your way, you hope. You might be blushing? You’re probably blushing. Maybe they’ll think it’s cute? Oh, you hope Jaynne and Zierre think it is. Thinking about them is what’s making you blush, after all!
You bump into Jaynne! She’s soft and she smells like sugar and you wrap your arms around her before you can even really think about what you’re doing. She doesn’t seem to mind you weight, though you think you might be giving yourself a little boost with your wings? You’re not sure! There’s a delightful song playing in your head and it drowns out the sound your wings may or may not be making. But not your lovely friend and lovers’ voices! Zierre or maybe Ritzie mentions something about getting married? It’s a human thing, which makes you laugh more, because humans are so silly! You wish you knew where your human friend was, maybe she’d be able to tell you more about this marriage thing, because spending forever and forever with the ones you love sounds too good to be true! You nuzzle the back of Jaynne’s neck to muffle some of your giggles at the prospect, but you think it’s probably not working very well!
Aw, Ritzie doesn’t want to invite Aerith or Persephone to your wedding! She says that Persephone is too big of a bummer, but you’re sure with four of you she’d be no problem, and oh! If you got Aerith, too, there could be five against one! And Persephone likes Aerith a whole bunch, she’d probably come around for her! And they could get married at the same time as you three do!
Also, you want to hate-marry Aerith, you’re pretty sure you say! You haven’t even gotten the chance to really kiss her, yet, since she took off her mask! You don’t know if you say that part. Things are in and out of your head and you don’t bother trying to hunt them down. No time, no time! Because there’s a wedding to plan, a big wedding, and oh, knives, you like knives! You can make a knife! You do! And you think Zierre gives you a piece of candy? And you think maybe the knife you made was made of candy? The thought makes you laugh.
Your pusher is rushing, rushing, rushing, your face is hot and you can’t stop smiling and everything is so, so good, and you’re in the perfect spot to give Jaynne lots of tiny kisses and you think marriage involves even more kisses, won’t that be exciting? Nothing in the world can ever go wrong again, you decide! Won’t that be nice, everything going swell for once? No more heartbreak or death or messy anger or, or, or, or other things that you can’t think of because you’re just! So! Excited!!
You’ll just have to find the others, you think! Kind of! Then everyone can be this happy! And wouldn’t that be swell? Wouldn’t that be sweet? You think so! Maybe! Are you thinking?
You laugh.
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Kissing prompt: Marc/Alex - life or death
This is a little bit inspired by Cassandra Clare’s “The mortal instruments” series and the fairy queen, so it’s a medieval/fantasy AU (What it is with me and AU’s lately?^^), but I hope you like it anyway.
Important notion: this is just fiction, but it sure was a hell of a lot fun to write xD
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They’ve entered the realm by accident.
They’ve lost their hunting party after Marc’s horse tripped over a trunk and he fell off Arcas’ back with a loud yelp.
Alex turns around at the loud noise and watches his brother get up from the ground and instantly check up on his stallion.
Alex slides off his horse and lead it back along the narrow path lined by thick and old trees.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, he’s just half as clumsy as me, he’ll be fine. Let’s walk back to the keep.”
Alex narrows his eyes at Marc and picks a leaf from the fine fabric of his dark red cloak.
“It might take us two hours!”
Marc’s laughter echoes through the covert.
“What? You’re too fine to walk now that you’ve married that fine lady of yours?”
A shadow creeps over Alex’s face and settles in his eyes.
“You know, I did that at father’s command. It saved us from falling out with the lordship for good.”
“I know, I just don’t like her.”
Alex stares at Marc’s back as he trudged in front of him and shakes his head. His brother is the only person imaginable who would insult his own countess, Alex’s choice and their father’s decision simultaneously – with a shrug and a laugh.
It’s true, though, Alex thinks and ducks underneath a low branch, it’s a marriage based on political and financial reasons and nothing else. He keeps staring at Marc and smiles at him carefully rearranging the rains to lead Arcas across the stone-bridge.
I’m just glad, I could save you from that fate.
They walk on in silence, until Marc stops and sniffles.
“I think, we’ve took a wrong turn, I don’t know where we are anymore.”
Alex huffs and turns around. The forest has become thicker and darker by every step. The air I moist and tinged with the smell of moss and ancient woodwork.
“I’ve never been here before…”
“And you’ll never leave again.”
Both brothers freeze as a high laughter reverberates through the forest, making leaves dance and shake as it brushes through the crowns like wind. Arcas stratles and Marc can’t hold onto the reins as the stallion bursts off into the woodwork.
“Arcas!”
“Cario!” Alex shouts, but his own mare tears through the bushes and into the darkness.
The laugh drowns out their panicked neighs.
“Who are you?!” Marc shouts and nearly drew his sword, if Alex hadn’t put a hand onto the handle.
“Don’t! It’s the wood folk. Once you insult them, they’ll kill us.”
“Wood folk?” Marc echoes, black eyes filled with terror, although he shakes his head and a disbelieving grin tugs at his lips. “They’re just stories the maids told us to make us listen to them…”
Alex swallows, as a low whisper reaches his ears. A look into Marc’s face shows that he can hear it as well.
“Noble, but after the war fallen in esteem.
Status and pride is what you seek to redeem.
But – what’s that?”
A figure appears between two old oak trees, a woman surrounded by a green shimmer in a long and silky dress, which seems to be see-through just as her whole body seems to be summoned by the wind and the leaves dancing to her feed. The crown of thorns is decorated with dead butterflies.
She’s beautiful, but her childlike face speaks of timeless cruelty.
She tilts her head, colourless eyes bore into both of them and seem to turn Alex’s innards around in an icy grip, turning his very soul inside out. Her laugh is a heartless bird’s chirp
“Even darker secrets lie behind dark eyes.
Different wish the heart desperately sighs.
A certain touch the skin and the soul crave
It’s the only thing that could see you safe.”
“What?!” Marc stares at the fairy with wide eyes.
“Take what you want, be brave;
Or find in these trees your early grave!”
Suddenly the trees around them point their branches at both of them as if they were spears, sharp twigs pointing directly at Marc’s throat.
“What is she talking about?!” Alex’s voice is a shaky yell and Marc closes his eyes.
“It’s not true.” He mutters and another high-pitched laugh sends shivers down his spine.
“Denial will be your downfall, the chance you miss.
All I want to set you free, is a simple kiss.”
Alex swallows drily and a root clings to his leg, as he tries to take a step in her direction.
“Listen, Milady, I have a wife, if we could…”
The voice sounds amused now, the glow around her angelic face almost white, as she continues.
“A kiss, you yourself want more than anything,
With someone you love more than everything”
And her long and bony-white finger points at Marc.
Alex’s eyes widen.
“How-?!”
And he remembers all the horror-stories his mother’s maid has told him, when he’s been a child. The wood folk, fairies, djinns, ghosts, they feed of your innermost secrets and the pain you feel by revealing them. They suck them in and fill their nightly cries with mortal’s cravings, while day dance around the forest and steer the wind in the highest branches. It’s old and dangerous magic and it became a threat to humans, after they cleared more and more forests, endangering them. So they turned against humans, using their hidden thought against them and torture them or kill them on the spot.
Alex bites his lip and stares up at the beautiful woman in terror.
Marc’s head sinks to his chest, as he stares to the floor, jaw clenched and eyes watering.
Alex can tell, what’s going on and shakes his head.
“Marc… we said…”
“I know, what we said!”
Utter sadness in black eyes filling with tears. She’s going to kill us both…
“She’s going to ki-“
“I know, but we said, we would never ever give in to that…”
“I know… but it’s going to save your life.”
and kill me…
Alex feels himself nodding and as soon as the decision is made, the trees retreat to their former motionless positions and the roots sink back into the soil.
Marc turns to him and cups his cheeks, before pulling him down and pressing a desperate kiss to his lips. Alex clings onto him, trying to convince the fairy that she got, what she wanted, digging his fingernails into Marc’s hair and pressing close to him. Marc sighs and pulls him in further.
The laughter fainting into the fog of the covert will haunt Alex for months, a terrifying and piercing sound, that sends shivers down his spine.
They part and stare into each other’s wide eyes, before Alex turns around and sigh in relief.
“She’s gone. We’re safe.”
No we’re not, Marc thinks, but nods, a lump in his throat making it difficult to swallow.
“Let’s go back. Your wife must be worried.”
And Alex stares at Marc’s retreating back, as his brother and so much more to him, trudges through the woodwork to find the path again – a path they’ve both irrevocably lost forever now.
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Okay, this was strange... What do you think? :D
#writing prompt#kissing prompts#alex marquez#marc marquez#another universe#fantasy#this is so weird I’m sorry this happened xD#lily what’s your vague incest tag again?^^
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Making Noise:War and the reader Go All The Way
This is mostly adult material, so if you happen to be a kid, please read it so that your parents won’t catch you. :D It’s also insanely long for a smut piece, so you can also read it on AO3 if you prefer. Enjoy!
Oh, how he sang.
You’ve never heard a man make so much noise while fucking. His sharp, ragged moans, his guttural groans and hisses sent thrill after thrill through your spine. War set your soul aflame. You never wanted him to shut up.
You started to gyrate your hips harder, to sway back and forth at a quicker pace, your whole upper body arched upwards, fingers dug into your lover’s back in relentless pursuit of pleasure.
Your pleasure – and his.
„I want to explore you."
His words lingered at the back of your mind for days after that. All the ravishing possibilities, packed into one simple statement.
It was the kind of candour you’d never got from Death. The Pale Rider’s way was one of clever self-restraint, either calculated or caused by his internal turmoil.
War was as straightforward as they come. And to be frank - you enjoyed the change.
You enjoyed War himself. Immensely. You yearned for more of him.
What happened between you two was like the first sip of exquisite liquor; just a teaser of way more delicious things to come.
Unfortunately, you had to be content with that for now, because the Four soon left for a mission. They had some important Horseman shit to attend to.
You wished them all luck in their endeavours. Hugged the twins.
(Strife quipped: "Take care and remember to exfoliate daily!” and held you a little too tight, as if he was a kid in distress and you - his beloved plushie).
You got yourself burrowed in Death’s firm embrace for a while. Pressed your forehead to his, covered with this ominous mask that he still wore to work.
Finally you approached War, shifting uneasily from one big leg to another. All decked in his pointy, clunky battle wear. A frightening sight. A cherished one.
You stood on your toes, stretched yourself as far as you could and reached out to his face, hidden under the red hood.
War’s eyes lit up with understanding; he scooped you up. Suddenly you were away from the ground and tantalizingly close to the big Horseman.
He smelled like old leather, like earth and rain and smoke. No wonder – his steed walked shrouded in flames.
„Come back as soon as possible, will you?”, you murmured into his lips. „I’m starting to miss you already.”
War shot you an intense stare and covered your mouth with his. The kiss was rushed and rather sloppy, but boy, was it fervent.
„Ewww, oh, come on, guys!” That must’ve been Strife. The charmer.
You’ve heard a light „smack!” when Fury brought some sense into her brother, although you didn’t give a shit.
Finally you parted, more than a little breathless. You shot a reluctant stare towards Death, about whose opinion you did care.
He nodded slightly. The mask hid almost everything, but his eyes were kind.
The eldest Rider knew what was going on between you and his baby bro. Of course he did. You didn’t try to hide it.
You felt as if a giant boulder has been lifted from your shoulders; a burden you didn’t even realize was there.
You and your most beloved Nephilim talked in abundance about this. About the kind of relationship that you want to have.
About inclusiveness. About monogamy - which Death saw no use for, perceiving it as another wacky local custom.
„You humans like to make simple things complicated” he’d say with a shrug.
But it was one thing to hear him say it and another – to see firsthand that he really doesn’t care.
You stood on the doorstep and waved them goodbye as they rode towards their adventure.
Your heart was full, bursting with relief and joyful expectation.
*
And then one day he came back.
Late summer twilight glimmered at the window, washing the cityscape with rich pinks and violets.
You had a first-rate view of the sunset from where you stood: over the white kitchen counter, making latkes.
Shallow fried stuff has always been your go-to comfort food. And you needed comforting.
The big house seemed so poignantly empty without them. You wondered if this is how the adventure ends for you.
If from now on you’re relegated to the role of team mascot. Loved and appreciated, sure. But ultimately too small and too helpless to be subjected to the heat of real battle.
If you’re always gonna be the one who waits.
The dough sizzled on the frying pan, filling the kitchen with its oily scent. It filled you with a sense of peace, too.
And then you clearly heard a horse neighing.
Your head shot up.
„Is that you, D?”
But it couldn’t have been Death, right? His crow always preceded him.
Should the Pale Rider return home, you’d already have Dust perching at the tap, giving you a sassy glance while trying to scrounge your food.
The door creaked. You’ve heard the thud of heavy steps approaching. At this point you were sure it wasn’t Death.
He’d never made so much noise, not even laden with all that lethal ironmongery of his. When Death was unarmed, he moved like a shadow.
You took the pan away from the fire and barely managed to turn around before two enormous arms closed around you.
There came the scent of earth, well-worn leather and smoke. Mixed with sharp coppery tinge, which you also knew so well.
Blood.
Fluttering strands of silver hair filled your field of vision. Hot lips brushed along your temple, your cheekbone and lower -
A stifled cry escaped your mouth.
„War!” you gasped. „You’re here!”
„I’m here.” The Red Rider held you up but with a palm of his hand, your whole body suspended mid-air.
You should probably get used to his strength by now, but it never ceased to amaze you.
There was something so primarily...enticing about a man who could just scoop you up as if you were a kitten.
His cowl was off, so you could admire the lustrous white mane, the glimmering stare, which held yours.
„I thought about you all the way back”, he said with a timid half-smile; it made your heart aflutter. „I made Ruin fly like the wind.”
„He’s gonna pout at you for working him so hard,” you murmured while leaning into the big Horseman.
Pressing as close to him as possible, even though there were layers of solid metal, leather and fabric between you two.
He must have felt the same. His grasp remained as ironclad, if not more so. The claws of his gauntlet sunk into the curve of your ass. You really didn’t mind.
„Ruin enjoys a challenge as much as I do.” Again, that adorable smirk. Was the most blunt of the Four trying to be cheeky now? You couldn’t tell.
„So you left your siblings in the dust?”
„They’ll be here in two days. Death dispatched me earlier. Said you and I have some catching up to do...”
You let out a surprised titter.
„D actually said that?”
„He did. And Strife said many other things...”
„I can imagine.” You put a finger across his parted lips. „And I don’t want any of it. But isn’t Death amazing?”
„He is.” War’s eyes were full of light, full of joy, all of it aimed at you. It felt like basking in a sunbeam.
„I missed you, Big Guy”, you confessed and moved in for a kiss. He acquiesced; for a while you tasted each other in solemn silence. Until you playfully bit his lower lip.
It was like striking a match.
Your tongues entwined, deep and hard. You submerged both hands in his plumptious hair, fingers caressing the nape of his neck, making him hum lowly in contentment. Something stirred inside you. Something blind and vehement, which craved more.
„I want you.” God, the voice of this man. He was born to say things like this. To moan things like this.
„I want you”, he repeated. That pleading note which quivered in his voice made you soft and pliant on the inside.
„It’s okay”, you breathed. „I want you too.”
You nibbled at his ear, traced the soft skin behind it with your tongue. War gave out a hoarse grunt. The iron hand which have supported you continued to clench around your bum, while the good one abruptly went under your T-shirt.
„Oh. Okay”, you gasped, half thrilled, half taken aback by this fervor. „I enjoy where this is going, but wouldn’t we be more comfortable lying down?..”
You underestimated your literal Horseman. For seconds later you were on your back on the kitchen floor.
War knelt astride your legs, his large frame looming over you, eyes ablaze with arousal, hands already pulling the offending garment over your head.
The T-shirt fell in this unequal battle. For a while you wondered if you’ll ever gonna find it when you’re done. War had one hell of a vicious toss.
You couldn’t help but smile now, seeing his wide eyebrows knit at this unforeseen puzzle.
The Red Rider might’ve traversed otherworldly plains, slain creatures you’ve never heard of - but he never had to deal with a bra.
He traced the curves your breasts, palmed them longingly, making your nips harden and dig into the soft fabric. You let out a small sigh.
„How do I get you out of this thing?” he asked, frustrated.
„Let me. This was made for smaller fingers.”
Stripping before War was...intense. His gaze scalded you.
The moment you let the lingerie fall away - he was all over your chest with his mouth, which greedily covered inch after inch, then closed in on your nip and wouldn’t let go.
„Oh my go-od...” you murmured with a stifled voice, arching into him while he sucked you.
„You like this?”
„Yeah!..”
„Good”, he stated and latched onto the other.
You dug both feet hard into the floor, trying to contain the electricity that linked the tip of your breasts with your sensitive inside.
Quite a few men had seen what you’ve just shown him, but War was by far the most passionate about it.
He sucked and kissed your breasts while giving out low grunts of satisfaction. It reverberated deep within you. You moaned quietly until your nipples went sore.
„Okay, that’s enough...” you huffed, gently pushing him away. „They get raw rather quickly. No more for now, please.”
„Did I hurt you?” War’s wide face turned into a picture of worry.
You lovingly stroke his jaw.
„No, baby. They’re just...easily overstimulated, you know? Let me take care of you for a change.”
War kissed the skin on your cleavage once more before backing off.
„Yes. Touch me.” There was so much yearning in his voice.
God, you loved this guy.
„Oh, I’ll touch you everywhere.” Your small human fingers wandered cravingly up his wide chest, still covered with all that armour.
And also smeared with crusted blood.
It sure as hell wasn’t his own.
„I will...but first we gotta get you out of your gear. It smells like something died.”
War snorted.
„Quite a lot of things died”, he said with a boastful edge to his voice.
„You’ll tell me after.” You flashed him a leery smile. War’s eyes brightened up even more than usual at the delightful implications of the word. After.
„My room?” he asked, already scooping you up.
„Your room.”
„The bed?” He rose to his full height with you held in a bridal carry and proceeded upstairs as if it was nothing.
You felt like you’re never gonna get over this man’s amazing strength.
„The bath.”
„Huh?” The Horseman’s cheeky grin disappeared at once, giving way to a baffled expression.
„War, baby, I’m not going down on a man coated in two weeks worth of sweat and grime. No matter how attractive he might be.”
He stopped abruptly, still holding you tight. Different feelings flickered through his face. Impatience, an essentially War trait that you already knew you’ll have to tame somehow. Bafflement, because he didn’t think of that. Smugness, cause he’s been called attractive; and boyish excitement, because you’ve just as good as made him a promise.
You watched your big guy emoting all this from up close and couldn’t help but remember how he was before.
How those broad features used to bear one of two expressions: a standoffish, dour one that scared people away or sheer rage.
War still wore his Manly Stoic Warrior Face most of the time, in front of enemies and allies alike. But with you, he thawed.
You managed to free this soul from its self-imposed shell, if only a little. That thought alone made you happy.
„But you’ll go down on a man who bathed?” he asked, looking you in the eyes with sudden child-like gravity.
You giggled and traced his cheek.
„Definitely.”
War started pacing again. „Then let’s get this over with.”
He brought you into his room; it was the one next to the stairs, as the Red Rider insisted on sleeping the closest to the house’s entrance in case of enemy invasion. He plopped you onto the mattress, pressed a quick, eager kiss on your lips (you gave it back with gusto) and disappeared into the bathroom.
There were a few candles on the windowsill – the Horsemen seemed really fond of them in spite of electricity at hand. You lighted those on.
Then you lied on your back, watched the dark wooden ceiling and smiled, listening to the clang of various parts of armour being tossed to the ground.
Then the shower babbled.
You smiled wider and got out of your jeans.
*
„What are you doing?” asked War leaning over you. His hair has been gathered up in the messiest of buns, skin glistened from moisture.
There was no towel or anything. Apart from his iron arm, he was naked.
„Touching myself”, you admitted with a lazy smile and reached with your free hand to nick the hard curve of his thigh. „I’m keeping myself warm.”
„Oh.” He got on the bed and nuzzled your neck, both of his mismatched hands already wandering. You got goosebumps from the feel of metal against your skin.
„Can I touch you in there?”
„Of course”, you breathed. „But I’d rather you used your lips.”
War’s urgent kisses kept going down and down until he brushed over your stomach. Then he stopped and shot you a tentative look.
„You want me to kiss you there?”
„Yeah.”
„I never did this before...”, he admitted with a hint of worry.
You ruffled his silver hair, still smiling.
„I guess it’s a day of firsts.”
„I guess”, repeated War rather breathlessly; he positioned himself lower, made a serious face and brushed your soft folds with his mouth.
„Like this?..”
You inhaled.
„You know there is a reason those are too called lips, babe. Kiss them like you would kiss me upstairs. Like you mean it.”
Well, you didn’t have to tell him twice.
War was as clueless as your regular teenager, but he made up for it with eagerness.
Soon you were letting out small groans, and your hips started their own little dance under the supple pressure of his tongue.
He abandoned all restraint and went at your sex as if it was ice cream.
You moaned in a low voice.
„You taste like green apples. But you smell sweet...” he panted.
„Do you like it, War?” You couldn’t help but smile.
„It’s all so new, but...it’s amazing.” He cautiously poked your clit with his finger. You took a swig of air.
„You’re so wet all of a sudden. And your little bud is much bigger now”, he observed with wonder.
You fought back a kindhearted laugh. War truly was such an innocent soul.
„This is where the fun happens. Lick it good and you’ll see.”
War pressed his tongue to the aforementioned place, rubbing up and down until you wiggled so much under his mouth that he had to pin your hips to the bed.
Your newfound fervor must’ve pleased him, cause he hummed under his breath while doing the deed.
The only thing was – the pleasure was going in circles, not mounting. Your big guy still had a lot to learn.
And learn he would. But not necessarily today.
„Ohhh...okay, stop now”, you whispered.
His head darted upwards. Those blue peepers held two question marks.
„It is nice...but I’m not going to come like that”, you explained breathlessly. „Besides, I don’t want to. Not just yet.”
„Why not?”
„Because I promised you something. And promises should be kept.” You watched War’s face lighten up when he remembered.
You sat up and slowly caught your breath. He sidled up close and eyed you with eager tenderness.
„How will you do it?..” he asked softly, embracing you.
He traced the lines of your torso with his good hand, closed your breast in his grasp and fondled it with an expression of a child given an enormous chocolate bar.
„You do like them tits, don’t you?” you chuckled.
„I love them. You’re so soft and beautiful.” His eyes were two small skies, awashed with wonder.
That cynical heart of yours downright melted.
„Just lie down, baby. I’ll take care of the rest.”
War fell on his back with a low sigh. Now you had an excellent view of the whole Horseman, and it was a view to behold.
Of course you knew that he was ripped to the gods. All that battle wear of his only highlighted that fact.
He spent his off-duty hours in simple jeans and a plain black T-shirt, and yet you couldn’t unglue your eyes from him whenever he was passing near.
His sheer physical beauty hit you like a brick.
It did so even more now, when there were no clothes in the way.
You sat back for a while and took it all in.
His broad, manly features. Those eyes the colour of lightning, now half-lidded from anticipation.
The hair, which broke from the flimsy bun and surrounded his face like a silver halo.
The cruel slash, marking those full lips (you’ve never asked where did it came from.)
His strong, wide frame, emanating with immense power even while the Red Rider lied leisurely like that. You’ve never seen a human being with muscles so defined.
Yet this paragon of robustness and life was speckled with scars, large and small, shining pale under the flickering candlelight.
They covered both his arms and the remaining forearm, his chest and his flat, sturdy stomach.
One particularly large gash crossed his inner thigh; you traced it with your fingers.
„That’s where the femoral artery goes”, you said with a stifled voice. „You must’ve bled almost to death...”
„Yes, probably”, said War lightly.
„Probably?...”
He lifted his head and smiled at you.
„It’s not that easy to kill a Horseman. Besides, there were so many battles. To be honest, I don’t remember.”
You took a long, only slightly shaky breath.
„I can’t help but think how much pain each one of those marks must have cost you.”
„Such is warrior’s life”, said War so matter-of-factly, those bombastic words actually rang true.
You palmed his thighs a little longer. Mostly because they were so shapely.
„You’re like an angel of carnage...” you muttered dreamily while sliding your hands upwards until they rested in his pronounced v-cut.
You were slowly approaching the fun area. War knew that. And you knew that he knows.
But he kept his cool somehow – even if his breathing did become a little rushed.
„I’m only half angel”, he pointed out, smile lacing his words.
„Yeah, and you’ve got an absolutely hellish temper to prove it. But you look like the whole package. You’re beautiful.”
„..?” War quietly uttered your name.
„So beautiful, you’re making my head swirl. And I want your beautiful dick”, you stated and went in for the kill. So to speak.
„!” Your name again, louder this time.
You let go and send him a wide grin.
„Do you feel like making noise, War? Let’s hear some noise.”
You wrapped your lips around the crown of his manhood, helping yourself with one hand. War was just...big all over, but you managed somehow. You sucked a few times, then flicked over the frenulum with your tongue. War tossed his head back and gave out a moan.
You sucked harder, still only on his sensitive tip.
And were rewarded with a prolonged, breathy „Ooooh.”
That’s the spirit, you thought to yourself and really went to town.
You were never much of a deep-throat type of girl; a strong gag reflex prevented that. But what you could do with your greedy mouth and flexible tongue – no one else could do. You always got enthusiastic feedback.
And boy, wasn’t War enthusiastic.
You worked your magic on him while your fingers caressed the smooth length of his shaft. It was like fine suede to the touch, only warmer.
Up and down your mouth went, kissing him as you would kiss him upstairs, while War grabbed onto the mattress and continued to make this blessed noise.
There were moans. There were low, rumbling „ooohs...” when you slid down – and sharp, growly „ahhs!” when you went up, your mouth closing in on the tip of his cock.
There was a lot of tight breathing inbetween. This man was thoroughly unable to hold himself back when receiving pleasure. And you adored it when he sang.
His dick swelled up nicely, stretching to the utmost corners of your ability.
It was enticing to have this monster in your mouth...but you had no idea how long you’ll be able to hold on without getting serious jaw cramps.
And then War got silent all of a sudden.
„Wait...” he said, that lovely voice of his now raspy and faint.
„What is is, baby?” you asked after letting go of his very erect manhood.
„If you don’t stop soon, I’m going to burst...” he sounded almost pained. Helpless. It aroused you like nobody’s business.
„Maybe I want to see you burst”, you hummed.
„Oh...” After a beat War continued: „In that case...can I come inside you?”
The sheer vulnerability of that question made your insides twitch.
„Of course you can. Indulge yourself!” you said and cheerfully got back to what you were doing.
War squeezed his eyelids shut and hissed through clenched teeth: „That’s.. ooohh...not...what I mean.”
You set him free again, intrigued. „Yes?”
His eyes flicked back open, large, full of yearning.
„I meant to come as in to get inside you, not finish. You know...”
„Oh!” You arched your upper body upwards, pressing both palms into the mattress and smiled at your Horseman. „You want to go the whole way?”
„Yes”, he breathed. „I want the whole you.”
You crawled up to his face and kissed him with lips still wet from his precum. War didn’t seem to mind.
His hands curled around your frame while you two were still kissing; suddenly you found yourself at eye level with the Horseman who sat ramrod straight on the duvet, legs wide open, while you were straddling his hips.
He was still painfully hard under you.
You splayed your palms across each pectoral and buried your face in the hollow of War’s throat. „Let’s go the whole way”, you murmured.
„Oh, yes. How?..” he breathed into your skin.
You loved this beautiful, clueless lug of a man so much.
„Just like we are now will be fine. Just touch me a little, War. Work me open.”
You’ve never seen such intense focus on his face as when he slowly slid two fingers of his good hand between your folds – and started to move them up and down, peering into your face for confirmation.
He got it.
War had nice, large fingers. They did the job.
You arched slightly when your tender insides loosened up under his touch. A shuddering sigh left your lips.
„Good?” he inquired.
„Good...” you smiled breathlessly at your Horseman. „Now stick them in.”
„Just like that? Are you going to be alright?”
„You’ll be pushing much bigger object inside me really soon, so I’d say that yes, I’m going to be alright.”
You leaned in and kissed him – slowly, with conviction. War’s white eyelashes fluttered while he tasted you.
He put the fingers in and it was like a signal; your whole body lit up.
„Oookaaay...” It was a half-moan, half whisper on your part. „War. Baby. Can you find that roundish spot up top? Feels kinda like a soft button?”
War scrunched his wide eyebrows, making those shiny markings on his forehead ripple. He felt around with the pad of his finger until – aah, bliss – he found it.
„What’s that?..”
„That, my love, is the sweet spot”, you huffed into his ear. „Please try to get to it with your cock.”
War’s eyes went huge.
„You mean that -”
„I mean exactly that”, you smirked, sliding yourself off his fingers. You were pleasantly wet and tender and also in a dire need of an actual dick.
„That was enough. Now let’s fuck.”
The Red Rider’s mouth formed a perfect O while you grabbed at his manhood and lowered yourself on it.
He truly was enormous. You felt pleasantly stretched, filled to the brim.
So you pressed both palms against his shoulders and rode him.
War’s grip curled around your ass with bruising force while he cried out.
It was a piercing cry, so primal it reminded you of a wounded animal.
You ceased to move.
„Something’s wrong, baby?”
War’s mouth desperately covered yours. It was the sloppiest kiss ever, but it was fervent.
„No, it just...feels so strong, that I...oh, don’t you stop, okay?”
His eyes were one big pleading.
You kissed him back. Slowly.
„I won’t from now on”, you said with an impish smile.
And rolled your hips against his.
War moaned.
You went in, you went out, making sure to drag along his whole length every time, and your silver-haired beauty of a man completely lost himself in the sensation.
Oh, how he sang.
You’ve never heard a man make so much noise while fucking.
His sharp, ragged moans, his guttural groans and hisses sent thrill after thrill through your spine.
War set your soul aflame. You never wanted him to shut up.
You started to gyrate your hips harder, to sway back and forth at a quicker pace, your whole upper body arched upwards, fingers dug into your lover’s back in relentless pursuit of pleasure.
Your pleasure – and his.
War held you like his life depended on it and moaned nonstop. Sometimes those were words, mostly just ooohs.
You cherished every cry.
„So good...” it was almost a sob. „You’re so good, I can’t hold it...I’m gonna...ooh! Ooooh!”
And then he cried your name.
„Go for it, baby”, you breathed into his lips. „Have your fun.”
A string of incoherent wails rushed out of War while his whole body clenched - and shuddered powerfully with his release.
You could feel him spill inside you, lather your insides with hot, thick seed that will gush right out of you when you two will part.
Your body still had some way to go. You craved your completion.
„I’m so close...”, you gasped, pressing desperately to his torso, as if he could slide through your grasp. „Just hold out for a moment there. Don’t let go.”
Most men tend to get frustratingly limp and shrivel inside you right after they cum. As it turned out - War was not most men.
He was one beautiful, unyielding sex machine and you loved him, you loved him to bits.
You rode his wet (but still hard) cock until ecstasy ripped you from yourself.
And then he held you, you both plopped gracelessly onto the mattress and stayed like this for a long time.
*
A really long time.
You had no idea for how long exactly you two remained like this; legs entangled, innards clenched around each other and dripping with War’s release.
Both of you were glistening with sweat. None of you felt like breaking the embrace yet.
You hid your face in the crook of his neck, half blind from the headrush.
War gently, tentatively stroked your back.
„Are you okay?” he whispered. His beautiful voice was all hoarse from the moaning.
You gave out a weak chuckle. „I think so...”
He held your chin in his palm, looked you in the eyes, worried.
„Was it too intense?”
„I love you.” The words just spilt out of you. Like his cum.
„Huh?”
„I love you.” You leaned in so close your noses touched.
„You’re an animal, a beast. Powered by desire so ferocious that if you weren’t so strong, it would probably tear you apart.”
„…?” That was your name. He spoke it very softly.
„You wanted this so much, didn’t you? And yet you keep making sure that it’s not too much - for me. Not too strong.
You keep worrying that magnificent body of yours, which I also love, by the way, is gonna hurt me. I love you, War, Rider of the Red Horse.”
Your voice broke.
War stroke away the tear that flew down your cheek.
„Please don’t cry”, he implored, those eyes now two small pools of blue sadness. „Please.”
„Babe, I’m not crying because I feel bad.”
„Then why?”
„I cry because the orgasm was so strong.”
You watched War’s face change while he proceeded that revelation. It was quite a feat.
„Really?” He planted a quick your nose and then on your lips, suddenly playful again.
„Really!” You held his face close and kissed him back; on the cheekbone, lower, at the corner of his twitching mouth.
„So...all is good?”
„Yeah, War.” You snorted lightly. Such a cinnamon bun.
The Horseman’s lips curled up with the sassiest grin that has ever graced that face.
It was one of those expressions that Strife wielded on a daily basis. You wouldn’t believe it if you didn’t see it.
„So,” you asked, your mouth still close to his, „How do you rate your first full-on sexual intercourse?”
„It was excellent.” His peepers sparkled. „Let’s do it again.”
„Yes, let’s.”
You underestimated your literal Horseman.
Two strong arms (one made of superpowered flesh, the other cast in iron) lifted you up and flipped you over.
Suddenly you found yourself on all fours, the big guy likewise just behind you, holding your ass in a firm grip and more or less mounting you.
„War!...” you cried out, half surprised at this turn of events, half enticed by such gall.
„What?” he leaned over you; it was easy for him, considering the difference in your height.
He brushed the damp hair away from your neck, planted a kiss there - and then bit it. You gave out a shaky sigh.
„You said yes.”
„Oh, War...” It was really hard not to give in immediately.
„What, you don’t want me to do that?” That playful edge to his voice got you left, right and center.
What the hell happened to the cinnamon bun? When did War learn to be so smug?
„I do,” you breathed. Because that was the truth.
„Than let’s.” The former cinnamon bun bit you again, a little harder – you yelped from this unexpected pleasure.
All this while his good hand sneaked up your backside, slid between your legs and started to work you up.
„But – now?...”you gasped.
„Now. Again.”
You acquiesced. There was no point in trying to subdue this wild beast; not when everything in you yearned for this.
You gasped again, harder - when he impaled you on his shaft and started pounding.
That must have been the most instinctive thing for the Red Rider to do. To take the reins and lead, even though an hour ago he didn’t even know the way.
He did know it now.
This time you didn’t cry.
It was too sweet to cry.
#darksiders#darksiders war#war x reader#war/reader#polyamory as a background setting#sharing is caring!#keeping up with the nephilim
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I’m glad it was you // Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Plot: you totally fall head over heels for your savior, spider-man. can you figure out who this red and blue boy is?
word count: 2.7k
warnings: some cussing and mentions of blood, mostly F L U F F
A/N: this is my first one-shot and first time writing a fanfic in like 2 years, so I hope you enjoy. my requests are always open :)
Frankly, he’d been taking too long. He’d never taken this long before. ‘What is going on?’ you thought, sitting over the ledge of the New York building that was, indeed, quite high. You checked the time: 1:35 am. Waiting for the boy in red and blue took up the majority of your nights now. You waited for him every night—or close to it—just so you could sit and talk with him. You’d been doing this for a while, he’d come to your fire escape at an ungodly hour and you two would talk until you fell asleep and then he’d leave. He knew you always had trouble sleeping and he needed to take his mind off whatever shit-storm he had been witnessing for the past few hours; it was a win-win relationship.
He’d saved you a month before from getting mugged, however, you were panicking so much that he had to physically carry you bridal style in his arms to your apartment. What you remember most was his cologne; the sweet smell of his shampoo radiating from his ruffled curly hair; and his firm yet gentle arms wrapped around your torso and legs. He let you down to your fire escape and you reluctantly let go. Although not entirely comfortable, he still stayed with you to make sure you were safe and talked with you until you eventually fell asleep. Thus, created the pattern you two now have, and you loved it. Honestly, you loved everything about him: his soft demeanor, his gentle and awkward voice, the way he chuckled breathlessly and rubbed the back of his neck when he was nervous, and especially his smell. You’d admitted to yourself already you had a bit of a crush on him, but you’d never say that to him directly. That’s why, today of all days, you wanted to see him. It was your one month anniversary of you meeting him.
Suddenly, a quick ‘thwip’ got you out of your thoughts and onto the web now placed next to you. ‘Thank god he’s okay’ you thought to yourself. And with that, he was sitting next to you, the wind traveling from his arrival blowing towards you, making you get a hint of scent.
“H-Hey,” you nervously greeted him. He always did that to you.
“Hi,” he responded breathlessly, probably out of breath from his tiring patrol.
“How was it today?” you questioned. You always asked that first, wanting to know about someone’s day is the most intimate thing you could think of.
“Not too bad, stopped a grand theft bicycle and an old dominican lady gave me a churro. Also stopped a mugging, kinda the the one with you from a month ago.”
You blushed. “You remembered. I guess it is the one month anniversary of that,” you acted like it wasn’t the thing you think about constantly, playing it off at least somewhat cool.
“Of course I did! I can never forget about my favorite damsel in distress!” He chuckled as he pulled up his mask up a little past his mouth. He always did that to air everything out, but you honestly just loved staring at his lips smile at you.
Something seemed off, though. You looked closer and saw a slight bruise surrounding a cut on his lip. Clearly, it was bleeding, and smudged across his chin.
“Oh, you’re bleeding!” you exclaimed, trying to keep quiet as to not wake your parents.
“Huh? Oh—it’s not that bad, don’t worry about it.” he tried to chalk it off as something little, typical Spidey. ‘Not this time.’ you thought.
“Wait here.” you said, quite urgently. You climbed back inside your window and got a first-aid kit.
“Always so prepared.” his bruised lip curled into a mesmerizing smirk you thought you could look at for days.
“Yeah well I have to be with you always out there hurting yourself on patrol. You need to be more careful. I—“ you paused, “people care about you, you know. Some people might miss you if something were to happen to you.” you stopped yourself. ‘Real smooth, Y/N’ you cursed yourself.
“does that include that you?” he mumbled, but you didn’t hear it. You were too concentrated on the cut on his lip that you were currently and carefully cleaning up. A few seconds later, everything was cleaned.
“There! All done!” you smiled at his mostly masked face and he smiled back. You may not have been able to see them, but you imagined his eyes to be smiling too. There was a pause, a quiet and lovely silence, before you worked up the courage to say something.
“Hey, what color are your eyes?” you gently asked, not exactly realizing the words to be coming out of your mouth before they did.
“O-Oh, um...” he paused for a little bit, contemplating the consequences of actually saying anything as his hand brushed against the back of his neck His resolve was shown before he finally said quietly, “...brown.”
There was a slight pause. “I bet they’re beautiful. Like honey in the sunlight.” you smiled brightly at him. He smiled down at you, clearly enjoying your answer. It was at this point you realized how close you two were and how much he towered over you.
‘oh jeez, am I really head over heels for this boy?’ your thoughts were stopped by your sudden deep breath, which was entirely filled with his scent. ‘yeah, yeah I am.’
Before you realized it, your head lowered to the center of his chest softly. You felt a rapid heartbeat, which you didn’t know if it was yours or his. Either way, the heat of his chest and wonderful smell lulled you into a faint slumber. The only thing you felt was his arms carrying you into a bridal style position and laying you into your light pink bed. The last thing you heard was a caring “goodnight, Y/N” and a sudden heat centered on your forehead before you were entranced by sleep.
~o0o~
He slammed his locker shut as his best friend rambled on about the new star wars set he got last week. Peter was listening, but his mind was somewhere else on someone else. He instinctively touched his bottom lip, which was pretty much all healed at this point. He almost wanted it to come back, maybe as a trophy of what Y/N had done so gingerly. Her touch lingered on his skin as he tried to replicate it with his own, to no avail.
“Dude. DUDE.” Ned waved his hand in front of Peter’s blank face. He snapped out of it and replied with a smile.
“oh yeah man that’s so cool.” Peter chuckled like he was listening the whole time. Ned wasn’t going to be fooled by his little charade.
“What’s going on man? You’ve been like this for weeks. What’s up?” Ned had a glimpse of concern on his face before it lit up.
“OH MY VADER is it a girl? Who is she? Is she in any of our classes?”
“What? nohohohoho there’s no girl—“ Peter tried to defend himself, to only find he was now the one not being listened to. Ned gasped.
“Is it that chick with the Y/E/C eyes that you’re always staring at in English?” He guessed it. Of course he noticed her eyes too, who wouldn’t? They had the power to entrance him and yet smile at him so gently. The long, inviting gaze, surrounded by the most beautiful eyelashes he’d ever seen. Peter’s silence was enough to show Ned he was right.
“oooooh my boy’s got a crush! You should invite her to a study date or something! or—“ Ned gasped again, “does she know that you’re an arachnid™—“ Now he was getting too ahead of himself. Peter quickly shushed his friend.
“Keep your voice down! No, she doesn’t know. I don’t know how she feels about Spider-man or even Peter yet—“ Just then, a certain someone walked by. They had talked before just as Peter being, well, Peter, but it was mostly for projects and such. He was an awkward mess the entire time. You looked over and waved. Peter’s eyebrows furrowed up and he presented a crooked smile as he waved back. He was in his own little world; that is, until the bell rang.
“English here we come!” Ned was too excited about this. He had forgotten all about English. Now he had to confront you.
“Oh, and ARE going to ask her for a study date.” Ned was not going to take a no for an answer. Peter had his work cut out for him.
~o0o~
English passed by rather quickly with only a few mishaps. You caught Peter staring a couple times, which you didn’t find too weird. ‘Of course she didn’t, she’s probably used to it’ Peter thought as he packed his things. Ned nudged him as you started to leave. He caught up to you, tapping you on the shoulder just outside the class.
“Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” he asked in an awkward yet cute way.
“Oh hey Peter. I was just getting ready to start home. What about you?” you asked innocently, but little did you know the smile that entranced that boy.
“Well, I was hoping to study a little for finals next week. Maybe you—or we could—um maybe you could join me?” he stuttered over his words. ‘How cute’ you thought.
“Sure, sounds fun. We can’t go to my house, since it’s really messy and my parents probably aren’t home, but maybe we could go to yours?” you asked as you looked up at him. Something about this seemed familiar.
“Oh—sure. My aunt is home so we should be fine. We can walk there together” He was frankly surprised you said yes.
“Awesome! Sounds great. I’ve been meaning to find a study partner and luckily the smartest kid in my class asked ME so I guess it worked out.” You chuckled and he awkwardly chuckled back.
The walk was short from the school to Peter’s apartment. Short, quiet, and sweet. You thought his awkwardness was endearing and he tried not to stare at you. You both entered into the complex and were greeted by Peter’s Aunt May, who you’ve only met once or twice. She, being the angel she is, offered you to stay for dinner which you politely declined, being the angel you were in Peter’s eyes. He loved to see his girls get along. You both shuffled into his bedroom and you put your stuff down, only to land on Peter’s bed. Getting out your books to study, your phone made a familiar ding: one of your spidey blogs posted. Peter sat next to you as you pulled out your phone. He looked over for a split second, to see you have a photo of Spider-man as your home screen. ‘This girl will be the death of me’ he thought.
After a moment of quiet, you softly said, “I wonder who he is.”
“Hm?” Peter was confused.
“Well—I don’t know. I want to know who he is. He’s saved me more than once. He’s probably the most amazing person I’ve ever met. The way he talks, the way he cares, the way he remembers everything, the way he—He told me his eyes were brown. I want to see those eyes. I bet they’re so happy and so...beautiful.” You stopped yourself from going on any further, realizing you’re ranting about some guy you both probably didn’t even know.
‘I could say the same about you’ Peter thought, everything you just described Spider-man as he could easily apply to you.
“O-Oh god I’m so sorry! I was caught ranting. We should get started!” a blush played upon your face as you hurriedly put away your phone. Peter chuckled breathlessly, warming your heart endlessly and you couldn’t place why. You looked down at his lips to see a small, purplish mark on the bottom. Hm.
~o0o~
Your study ‘date’ (which you really didn’t know was a date) was over and Peter offered to walk you home. You cheerfully accepted. You didn’t realize it was so late as you checked your phone when getting ready to go home: 10:27 pm. Where did the time go?
Starting on the way home, your hands hugged the straps of your backpack. You hadn’t realized your nails had seeped into your palms from thinking. To prevent this, you put your hands by your sides. However, they only brushed against Peter’s. You felt your heart flutter in a very nostalgic way. There was something you were missing and you knew it. You looked up at Peter, to which he looked right back at you, and there was something in the air: literally. There was something you smelled that you could place anywhere. Hm. ‘There’s no way’ you thought to yourself. That’s when you looked into his dark brown, sunlit honey eyes. There it was. The piece you were missing. You stopped.
“Y/N? You okay?” a look of concern crossed his face. You couldn’t tear your eyes off his eyes. His beautiful, brown, nostalgic eyes. His pink, slightly bruised lips. You knew. You started to tear up a little. Peter noticed.
“Oh my god, Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He quickly rushed over and caught you in his arms. Everything was confirmed. That smell, that beautiful amazing musk you’d fallen in love with. His firm yet gentle arms encasing you in a caring embrace. You couldn’t even feel your legs anymore and you went a little limp.
“Hold on, Y/N. I got you. You’re apartment is just right there, I can carry you there.” Without even needing an answer, he swept your legs up and you wrapped yourself around his neck. ‘This is it. It’s Peter. I can’t believe I—I need to be sure.’ you thought rather incoherently.
You calmed yourself slightly in his arms and chuckled, “Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?”
Peter stopped. “I-I don’t—“ he stuttered his way into somehow saying he didn’t know what you were talking about. You chuckled as he carried you surprisingly effortlessly to your apartment. Quickly, he blushed and dismissed himself from your door, leaving you in your apartment. You almost ran to your fire escape, opening your window and sitting on the stairs accompanying it. After a couple of minutes, you heard the ‘thwip’ you’ve been waiting all day to hear.
“Glad you could join me, good sir,” you were in a playful mood.
“Hey,” He sat next to you, fidgeting with his thumbs. He lifted his mask a little passed his mouth, exposing his slightly purple bottom lip. You looked at him, admiring his state at this moment. There was a slight silence.
“No patrols today?” you questioned, slightly teasing him. You knew he knew you knew.
“O-Oh um,” he stuttered over his words, thinking carefully, “N-No not today.” You thought he was adorable when he was flustered. Turning to him slightly, you tried not to focus too much on his gorgeously pink lips. You looked straight into him as you slowly reached up to his face. He didn’t stop you. Between your fingers, you took the mask’s fabric and pulled upwards passed his nose and, finally, his eyes. Those brilliant, brown eyes. This was the final confirmation. It was Peter. It was Peter all along. You pulled the mask completely off, revealing Pete’s curly brown hair that was somewhat matted to his face.
“So um,” he stuttered again, not knowing what to say as you gazed into his elegantly sculpted face. “Are you disappointed that it’s me?”
“Oh god, no!” you blushed at your realization that you were staring a little too hard. “I’m glad it was you,” you mumbled, your heart beating out of your chest. You looked up into his eyes as his face towered over your frame.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner! After I told Ned Mr. Stark totally chewed me out and—“ you knew you had to cut him off before he started rambling.
Your face reached his, quickly silencing him into a light, passionate kiss. His covered hands wrapped around your waist, closing the distance between you. Finally, you two pulled away, leaving you laying gently in his arms. You mumbled quietly under your breath.
“I’m glad you was you”
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FFVIII fic, “Liberation”
Pre-game. Slightly AU. Lots of odd snippets of headcanon about the Forest Owls/Rinoa’s life in Galbadia/the animal liberationist movement in Dollet.
Summary: Rinoa wants to be useful. She also wants a dog.
She had never before experienced the sensation of wanting to be useful.
In her old world there had useful people everywhere. There had been valets and maids for doing her hair and maids for making her bed. There had been chauffeurs who never smiled, gardeners with dirt under their fingernails, cooks who made perfect toast.
She tried to recall to her mind all the moments she had thanked the help, all the moments she made sure to refer to them by their first names or ask them how their day was going. She must have, she thought, must have.
She had never wanted to be useful for him or for any other Caraway, or for the teachers at her school or even for the people who had somehow ended up as something like her friends but not really. It had been easy then to think of herself as everything her aunt or her ex-stepmother or in his darker moments her father had said she was: selfish, ungrateful, hateful, even.
No, wait, there had been sitting by her mother by the piano, she had wanted to be useful then. But her mother was only humouring her by letting her turn the pages. She still couldn’t read music, but maybe she could learn, now, here. She didn’t suppose it’d be easy to get a piano through the door of the train carriage, though.
And money, she chastised herself, pianos cost money, and you – we – have none here.
She had already burned their shirts and saucepans. Hours of needlework lessons at school learning how to embroider flowers (lessons where she had was forever surly, argumentative) left her unequipped for shirt buttons and sock darning. Watts quietly and gently took over the job of polishing shoes, a task Rinoa had failed to appreciate the intricate labour of – just like she had with boiling lentils or making beds – until now.
Revolutionaries did not need the skills acquired from years of immersive training in the delicate art of Galbadian girlhood. They did not want or need to know the right way to accept or decline a dinner invitation. They did not have to memorise the words to Vinzer Deling’s favourite folk songs just in case he showed up to a social gathering and demanded the young ladies crowd around the piano to amuse him. Nor did they have to know about Admiral Thibault’s womanising problem that no-one talked about but also very much did (though she knew it thrilled them all here to know the tawdry, hypocritical lives their beloved leaders led).
No-one is here to make you a housewife, Zone told her, just pull your weight.
Some days she felt brave enough to participate in their study groups. She spent evenings familiarising herself with the illicit canon of essays, pamphlets, books, revolutionary songs. She learnt terms like eco-imperialism, resource imperialism (everything everything imperialism), ecocide, permaculture, food forestry, the military industrial complex, the carceral state.
She was still afraid to go outside before dark. In the evenings they went gleaning for food disposed of by the restaurants she and her father had once patronised. She learnt to love the texture of stale bread and the soft, fermented flesh of over-ripe apples. She was no good at stealing, but learnt she was good at smiling and distracting the Galbadian business-owners the Owls deemed grew too fat from selling wine and cheese to tourists from Deling City.
A girl from another faction donated her old boots to Rinoa - in her rush from the house the only shoes she had bought were her party ones, white satin with a heel not made for running. She would slide on her new-old boots and stamp hard on the soft ground of the railyard, laughing giddily at the idea of her father and her aunt and her ex-stepmother and her ballet teacher and her friends watching her climbing deftly over old shipping containers and scraping her knees.
The first time she is useful – or she at least thinks of herself, finally, as useful -- is because she stubbornly insists upon it. She is bored. She is still waited upon. She is still Rinoa Caraway.
A group of animal liberationists from Dollet had been in contact with information about a new initiative in a military camp about ten miles east of the city. There was recent confirmation of a new experiment. The group had been involved before in the liberation of Geezards, who were being - unsuccessfully - trained to detonate remote explosives. This new weapon, however, was more cuddly.
“Dogs.” Zone told her. “Attack dogs, specifically.”
Her ex-stepmother had been allergic. Her father disinterested and non-committal about the idea of pets. She felt ten years old again when Zone told her, coveting the simple, uncomplicated companionship she felt would – must – exist between her and a dog. She had even collected editions of Pet Pals and shoved them under her father’s nose at the dinner table.
“Look.” She had said, pointing to a page. “They’ve trained rescue dogs in the Trabian mountains to administer Phoenix Downs to people with hypothermia.”
Had he thought, then, she wondered, had the idea begun to germinate in his mind? She felt unwell, the same kind of unwell she had first felt when Zone had told her about the Town Square Massacre during the end of the Second Sorceress War (had her father known that they would shoot into the crowd? Had he? Had he?) or the methods of torture used at D-District.
“I’m going to come.” She announced. A panicked Zone recited the familiar list of reasons over why she absolutely should not come.
“If they find you--” He started.
“They won’t.” She said. “Please, Zone.”
He looked at her as if they were children again, with her barraging in on his and Watts’ play the way she always did, demanding they find a place for her. They always had.
“They want someone to record inside the facility.” He said. “You just hang back, okay? Stay outta shot. Follow our lead.” He paused for a second, bit his lip. “I meant what I said before, you know. There’s no condition to you being here. You don’t have to help us in our mission.”
“What if I want to?” She asked.
“You’re fifteen years old.” He said, only eighteen himself. “Just a few months ago you had no idea any of this existed.”
She wanted to tell him that that was a lie. She wanted to think that her acts of rebellion – both large and small, both petty and serious -- against her father, her family, her school, even Vinzer had been for something beyond herself. Back then Zone and Watts were just childhood memories, servants’ boys who she had followed and pestered and then lost the same time it had felt like she had lost everything: her mother, the Timber house, her father.
“And how old were you when you decided this is what you were meant to do? How old were you when you realised how wrong this all was?” She knew the answer. She knew it was the day Vinzer Deling had killed his father. There was no other answer he could give. Rinoa clutched the top of her arm and looked outside the train window, uncomfortable. “You know what I saw, what I went through, as his daughter. It was nothing compared to what people go through here, I know, but…”
She heard him sigh. She watched Joly and Jehan outside smoking and playing dice under the washing line. Behind them stood the solid boundary of Argoat Forest. It would be autumn soon and she would have been here for three months, waiting for something or someone or somewhere to show her what to do with the rest of her life. Maybe all she needed was a dog.
~
Rinoa accepts a cigarette from one of the Dollet Animal Liberationists even though she had promised herself she would quit because Rinoa Heartilly didn’t smoke. Rinoa Caraway’s last cigarette had been by patio doors of the Timber house as party music poured out into the night air. She had been wearing those satin shoes and the blue dress her aunt always insisted she wore around company. This Rinoa, though, wore sensible shoes designed for scaling chain-link fences and clothes that made her into shadow.
They sketch out the outline of the base into the earth with a stick. Rinoa does her best to memorise the exit points and guard towers. There is an air of nervous anticipation she can feel between them all as they huddle together in the twilight. An owl hoots in the distance, and Rinoa chooses to take it as a good omen.
“Rinoa, it’s okay if you want to wait in the van with Watts.” Zone whispers. She frowns and shakes her head and he grips her shoulder.
She imagines the fence as one of the trees she and Zone used to climb in the grounds of the Timber house. She looks across and sees he is still beside her. They used to have races to climb to the top of the big oak. He wins now just as he did then, but here he is once more with a hand out for her.
They keep low to the ground, dodging spotlights and sleepy, inattentive soldiers. The forest crowds around the camp, the sound of the wind through the leaves softens the noise of their footsteps on the gravel. Her back begins to hurt. Her comrades open control panels, begin fiddling with wires and keypads, muttering curses under their breath.
She used to come with him on tours of these places, sometimes. Officials would hurry her father around and talk in squeaky, anxious voices. She used to try and pretend she was somewhere else. Her father didn’t trust her home alone - she had managed her way out of too many bolted windows and locked doors.
The largest members of the Forest Owls and the D.A.L – Bahorel and a Dollet man she knows only by his muddy yellow hair – swarm the lone soldier out for his cigarette break. He is slipped discreetly into a small closet and his keycard stolen, hands bound and mouth gagged.
When they make their way through the back door of the kennel she is hit overwhelmingly by the scent of dog. She stands, dazed for a moment at the ugly bright fluorescent light, before remembering to switch on the camera. Everyone slips on their masks. They are old pantomime props from long ago showing faces of forest animals: bears, fawns, weasels, and, of course, owls. There is a faint smell of urine as the puppies begin to wake, whining and pacing in their cages.
Zone and the D.A.L. leader stand shoulder to shoulder. Rinoa raises the camera. She knows Zone’s speech already, he had her sit and listen and critique him on his posture, his over-reliance on metaphor, the use of his hands.
“We can see here the plain, naked brutality of the Galbadian Empire.” He began. “Not only do they corrupt and brutalise the minds and bodies of the soldiers under their command, but they extend their treatment to these innocent victims.” Someone hands him a puppy, who sits placidly in his arms. “Who gave these animals the choice to participate in their cruel regimes of violence against Timber, or against all who would seek to oppose their imperialistic dogma? This is only the first step in Timber’s liberation. Soon we liberate all of those who make their home on our soil!”
His delivery is stifled in places, over-practiced. He is not really built for this, she knows. In another place and time Zone would have been a ticket inspector or a clerk in a timber yard, work where his awkwardness and anxious temperament would have proved no serious hindrance to him. But this is not that time. This is not that place.
After the D.A.L leader’s speech – one that stresses the importance of direct action, of interspecies compassion -- she clicks off the camera. Zone thrusts the puppy into her arms.
“What are you doing?” She asks. The small body wriggles against her chest.
“It pissed on me! During my speech!” He replies, ripping off his mask. His face is flustered and he has been sweating. “Hyne this is a disgusting mission.”
Rinoa bobs the puppy up and down in her arms. All around them littermates are being slipped into carriers covered with dark blankets. One of the D.A.L. goes to take the bundle from Rinoa’s arms, but she will not let them take it. No, not this one, she says. I’ll carry it.
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Suddenly There - A Narnia Fanfiction
Chapter Seven: Lessons
words: 2503 | AO3
warnings: none
Content: Suddenly Joyce stumbles into Narnia. Meeting the four Pevensies, she gets taken in and care of. A tension builds up between her and Edmund, although Joyce is clueless that he himself is a King, too. Peter though seems interested in her too and just as Lucy and Susan found out that there’s no way back to England, an attack puts Joyce to the test and she has to proof that Asland picked out the right person to bring back peace to Narnia.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - ...
“I heard a rumour!”, a voice sang right into my ear while I was sitting at the table in the dining hall. I was having a lonely breakfast because I had gotten up quite late. Nightmares and bad dreams of home had kept me up all night and I was not in the best mood. Phileas had a night shift and when I had left my room he had already been gone.
But on the other hand – I had made my way to the hall by myself without asking anyone for directions. It had taken me a while, but I’d made it.
As I now looked up, Lucy stood next to me. She was wearing a cream-coloured dress with dark red laced rims and elaborate embroidery. No matter what she wore, it always looked stunning on her.
“Good morning to you too.”, I said and smiled back. It was hard to stay grumpy when Lucy smiled at one like she did now.
“I’m going to be your teacher!”, she screeched and sat down next to me. “Isn’t this exciting?”
“What will you teach me?”, I asked, eyebrows raised, and took the stiff napkin in my hands to clean them of any remaining breadcrumbs. Breakfast had been toast and porridge today, along with fruits and fresh milk. It was delicious, but it also reminded me of home. I started to wonder whether the fauns working in the kitchens were making an effort to cook British dishes to make the Royals feel at home. And then I asked myself if they felt the way I did and if it maybe hurt them more than it helped them.
“Manners!”, she said and for a second I wondered whether I had done anything wrong. Then I realised it was her subjects and I started to laugh, which made Lucy pout.
“Sorry”, I wheezed, trying d to get my breathing under control again. “I… it’s just so funny to imagine you teaching me manners when I thought you were the funniest of your siblings.”
“All right, I get your point.”, Lucy said and played with a curl of her brown hair. “But it’s not really hard. There are just some general rules on how you’re supposed to sit, stand and walk, who you’re allowed to talk to and who needs to talk to you first, where in a room you can stand and where you’re not supposed to be… All these small things and then we’ll go into behaviour at the banquet, which cutlery is used for which meal and-”
“Lucy”, I interrupted her. “Peter said I had four weeks to learn all of this. Not four years!”
That made her laugh. “You’ll be fine. I doubt anyone will pay much attention to you anyways.”
“Oy, that was rude!”, I said and poked her in her side, which made her giggle.
“Sorry, but, hey, stop it!”, she laughed and tickled me. Ten minutes later we were breathing heavily and my stomach hurt from laughing so hard. “I just meant”, Lucy tried again, “that there are other things that people will pay attention to, rather than someone they’ve never seen maybe using the wrong fork. But we’ll avoid this through practice. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t”, I said honestly. “With you as my teacher, everyone will notice how incredibly good I am with a fork.”
This made her laugh again.
Three hours later I had mastered the perfect curtsy. Also, I had learned how to address Lucy and her siblings in the correct way. My head was buzzing from the information that it had to take in. But it seemed like I was about to be rescued from my lesson.
Edmund knocked on the door and entered my chamber. The faun replacing Phileas, an older faun with dark curls and big horns, glanced into the room to check whether everything was all right and regained his posture in front of my door again, as Edmund closed the door behind him.
“Lu, you’re going to be late.”, he said and Lucy looked up at the grandfather clock in the corner of my room. This was followed by a heavy sigh. She put the books aside and rose to her feet, straightening out her skirt and smiled at me before turning towards Edmund.
“I nearly forgot because this was so much fun. Thanks for reminding me, Ed!” And with that she rushed through the door Edmund had just closed.
“Late for what?”, I asked and slowly turned around. The book, that I had been balancing on my head for the past ten minutes, fell down. Lucy had had a lot of criticism for my posture and wanted to fix it before, and I quote, “anyone would have to see you ruining a really beautiful dress with the way you stand”. This had been followed by the explanation that the dresses we wore every day, which I found insanely stunning already, were apparently only the ‘normal’ dresses. The extraordinary ones were reserved for balls, banquets and coronations. When these were the normal ones, I didn’t know whether I would be able to stand the beauty of the others. Edmund smiled at me, before he got on one knee to help me pick up all the books.
“She always has a court day”, he now answered my previous question while handing me a book, “where she’ll allow her subjects to come forth and ask for help or tell her about problems. If she can, she figures something out to help them. It’s always around this time a week.”
He handed me back my book and our fingers touched. This moment it was hard for me to breathe because my heart just skipped a beat. “Thanks.”, I stammered. For a moment it was quiet between us. “Well…”, I said, trying to say something instead of just staring at Edmund, “I guess that marks the end of my lessons for today?”
A grin spread out over his cheeks. “Oh, absolutely not. I’m here to pick you up for something else.”, he said and then bowed a little. “If I may, of course.”
A little surprised, I nodded. My heart was still fluttering, so my steps, when I followed him, where a little unsure. “More lessons?”, I asked while he held the door open for me. We passed the dark-haired faun and made our way through the corridors.
“Curiosity killed the cat, that was the saying, right?”, he asked me and I nodded surprised. I could imagine that sayings like these would slip your mind if not often used, but he remembered it. Even after ten years.
My thoughts pondered over which sayings he had kept after all this time as well and so I did not notice where we were going. “Where...?”, I started, but then we walked around a corner and I recognised the path from our earlier walk. “The… training grounds?”, I asked and looked through one of the high windows.
“Exactly. I wanted to show you something before we start your lesson. It’s because we still have some time before we can start.”, he said, his hands crossed behind his back, as usual.
“What’s this lesson on, out here?”, I wondered, as we stood on the grass again. Targets were erected, at least 100 yards away from where we stood, the grass was trimmed. Multiple weapons were on display. Nothing had changed. I could feel my spirits rise.
“Do you want to teach me how to handle bow and arrow? Or a crossbow?”, I asked excitedly but Edmund shook his head, a light smile still on his lips.
“Not yet. I think we can do that once you’ve mastered what I am actually supposed to teach you. But for now, just follow me.”
“You speak in riddles…”, I mumbled exhausted and looked around. “Then what are you supposed to teach me out here?”
“Not out here. But later I’m supposed to teach you how to dance.”, he said and stopped. “But since the musicians are still practicing, we can’t dance yet. And since the weather is beautiful, I wanted to show you something. A place that is very special to me.”
And with that he continued to walk over the soft grass towards where the world seemed to end, approaching the cliff. My mouth still hung open. I was supposed to dance?
With Edmund?
Oh, how delightful. This would not make my life any easier…
I sighed and followed him, my thoughts spiralling around the dance lessons that would inevitably follow. The closer I got, the more I could hear the ocean again. And then I saw that the meadow ended and steep ledge lead down right to the water. “Come on”, he said and waved me to follow him. Nearly hidden behind rocks and grass was a path. When we were here the first time I hadn’t even noticed.
“Wow”, I whispered and stepped closer to the edge. I then followed Edmund. The path led to a little cave just below the cliff. He stood close to the edge, pointing at something in the water.
Even without having to focus on anything Edmund wanted to show me, this sight was incredible. The cave was a little hole, completely hidden away from sight. If anyone would stand on the edge, they would not see if people would hide down here. Roots from the grass and bushes upwards were dangling from the top of the cave and on the rocky ground the feet could get a good grip.
“Can you see them?”, Edmund suddenly asked me and I looked up at him. He smiled and his hand pointed towards the water. I stepped a little closer. My gaze wandered over the waves, whose white crestwaves sparkled in the sun, following where Edmund was pointing. At first I couldn’t see anything other than the ocean and although it looked nothing like the stormy, grey waves of home, my heart grew heavy. The wind blew away my blond hair and I felt my eyes itching with tears.
“Mom and I always went to the sea during the summer.”, I suddenly said. Although this looked nothing like what I was used to, memories started to pull me back in. “We would collect the nicest pebbles and stones and tried to… to stack them as high as we could. Then… then the war came.”
I felt a tear running down my cheek and suddenly Edmund’s hand touched my shoulder and he squeezed it. “I can imagine. But look closer.”, he said and suddenly I spotted them.
I squinted a little and then I could see the bodies, the tails and the glistening hair, all pellucid. “Are those mermaids?”, I asked, absolutely taken aback.
“Naiads. Just like the Dryads, but… in the water.”, he said cleverly and smiled. “I like them. They remind me of home. My parents always took us to the sea, too.” His expression grew sadder, but he put on a brave smile.
“Do you ever get used to this? Being away without the possibility to get back?”, I asked, being reminded of my earlier thoughts.
“Not really”, he mumbled. The wind blew through his hair as well and I could see a few freckles on his nose and forehead.
“I’m sorry”, I said quietly. “It must be weird to talk to someone like me, being suddenly here and maybe, hopefully, going back when you got used to living here now.”
He chuckled lightly, facing the sea and crossing his hands behind his back again. “You never get accustomed to it, not really. Not me.”
I really wanted to say something. His face grew sadder again and his thoughts seemed to wander off. Then his expression grew grave and he turned around, waving me with him. He still seemed a little upset. “How good are you at horseback riding?”, he asked suddenly, maybe trying to change the topic, maybe trying to kill some more time, and with that, the peak into the life of the other was ended.
I got the answer to that question an hour later and it was: not good.
Horses are very majestic creatures. That’s at least what I always thought of them. They’re huge and fast and beautiful, but riding a horse is something entirely different. Especially if you’re supposed to ride on a sidesaddle – something I’d never done before. There were a million things one needed to concentrate on. The reins, your back, your feet, your hips, the horse’s step, the surroundings, yours arms and your fingers. Also, one should not constantly look down.
Edmund told me all these things, repeatedly. In a calm and slightly amused manner.
We were on the training grounds again, closer to the castle now. A couple of fauns had brought Edmund’s horse and one for me, saddled and ready. Edmund though had refused to ride himself, but he was holding the lunge line, and helped me with additional information and comments.
“Oh shit”, I cursed as I tried to brush a strand of my hair out of my eyes and hit myself in the face with the reins. That made Edmund laugh.
“Sorry? I should not swear so much.”
“What? No, that’s great. It’s so natural. It does not seem like you’re wearing a mask or put up a show. You’re simply yourself.”
“Yeah, what about it?”, I asked, sitting up straight again and monitoring the horse from above, trying to gain back my posture.
“It’s so unusual around here.”
When I dared to look away from my horse, I saw Edmund smiling at me. I felt my stomach drop a little, but it could as well have been the horse’s fault, because it used this moment of inattention bolted forwards and went into trot and then galloped straight forward. Since Edmund and I hadn’t discussed what to do in a situation similar to this, I shrieked and pulled the reins closer to my body, but not upwards. I froze and pressed my leg against the horse and leaned in the opposite direction, trying to not fall off.
“It’s all right”, I heard Edmund’s voice and suddenly his hand pulled on my reins, took them and then the horse… stopped. He was on his own horse, I can’t remember how he did it – how he got up there so fast, but the horses now stood next to each other and he looked at me, concerned.
“Are you all right?”
“I wish… shit, that was scary!”
And then, he giggled. “You’re right. Let’s get you off there now. We may try dancing now, what do you say?”
“Anything but this, please?”, I said and still could feel my heart beating in my throat.
He slid of his horse and held a hand out to me, a gentle smile on his lips, and when my hand touched his and our eyes met, I couldn’t help but feel a little warmer, a little safer, a little more like being in Narnia was not that bad after all.
#narnia#the chronicles of narnia#peter pevensie#susan pevensie#edmund pevensie#lucy pevensie#pevensie siblings#fauns#the golden age#high king peter#high king peter the magnificent#queen susan the gentle#king edmund the just#queen lucy the valiant#liv writes#narnia fic#narnia fanfiction#fanfiction#kings and queens of narnia#aslan
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@captainswanbigbang & @captxinswans present:
RIPTIDE by @courtorderedcake
Beta’d by the wonderful @ultraluckycatnd
An Enchanted Forest AU where the dark one was never released into the world in a vessel, thus causing a massive shift in timelines. The ogre wars have ravaged kingdoms, untold destruction spanning continents, rulers displaced. Even as the wars sputter to ash, the safest place to be is at sea, and that’s not very safe at all - as Emma and Killian find out, fates intertwined against all odds.
Rated: E/X - heavy content : warnings of assault, rape, noncon, just everything, I feel like the rating says enough. It’s something.
WARNING:
READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
Read on Ao3 HERE .
Chapter XII: Anchored
I am anchored on a resolve you cannot shake. My heart, my conscience shall dispose of my hand - they only. Know this at last.
-Charlotte Bronte
Visiting Emma was like a sanctuary in chaos. He felt the need to stay away from the pitying looks the crew gave or the cries of the twins; sometimes both wailing at the same time, peeling back the skin of the raw emotion immediately underneath with ease. He felt resentment, guilt at that resentment, and an anger at things he could not control. It latched onto him like a leech and took away everything until he was numb.
How could he even look at the children if they took her? He’d promised her he could raise them alone, and he would, but never knowing or imagining that she would be gone from the world, or he’d ever not be able to give chase. Killian hadn’t been able to leave her side, or bring himself to try to. He needed to see her, and needed for her to tell him she was alright.
“Killian?” she whispered softly, eyes fluttering.
He leaned forward, stroking her hand as she sighed in relief. “I'm right here, love. I've been right here and I'll stay right here.”
Emma frowned. “Where are they? You should be with them, they need you -”
Killian felt his heart constrict. He couldn't tell her that he couldn't hold them without thinking about how they'd almost… “They're with the wet nurse; it's alright.”
Her face relaxed, and he kissed her hand. Her eyelids fluttered closed again, a small moan escaping as she shuddered. Her grip tightened on his hand. When the spasm ended, she whimpered quietly before falling back into sleep.
Emma woke again after a few minutes, sweat beading on her pale forehead. Killian laid a cool cloth on her head, and she sighed with relief, accepting a small amount of water he offered as well. Whale had tried to tell Killian how high her fever was, but he wouldn't hear it. Emma would survive. She had to survive.
“I need to tell you, I need you to know -” she slurred, voice hitching.
“Hush love.” He wiped tears off her cheeks, whispering softly. “It's alright. Just rest.”
“No, Killian, listen to me. I should have told you so many years ago. It's so strange to look back now at all the chances I've had to tell you how much I love you. We could have had so much more time.”
“Emma, please -”
“I can feel it, my magic is gone. Killian, I need you to hold to your promise. You'll be great; you don't have to raise them away from the sea. Raise them here or on the Jolly so they have a family.”
“Emma, stop. You're going to be fine.” He realized he was crying as well, rubbing her hand in small circles as heat burned in his chest.
She shook her head, closing her eyes. “I can feel the fever, and the medicine, and blood. I can feel my body dy-”
“No.” Killian laid his forehead on her hand, unable to keep his fear and grief at bay. “We need more time. I just, we just - you can't, Emma. We deserve more.”
“I love you, Killian. You deserve every happiness, and I would give you the world if I could. I hope my heart is enough for you to go on. You have others who need you now.” Her body tensed and then relaxed as she fought to stay awake. She murmured to him, trying to focus through the haze. “You promised me. You promised me that you would care for our family. That's not just our children any longer. You have to be strong, for all of them…”
“Emma, I can't…”
“Yes, yes you can. You promised me. I believe in you,” she sighed, falling back into sleep.
Killian sat with his head in his hand, desperately trying to sort out the rage, grief, and fear that currently occupied his being. How was he supposed to look at the children that took his wife? How could he raise them without Emma? He wasn’t strong enough. The entire time, whatever existence drew them together had also tried to rip them apart, but they’d won. This couldn’t end with them parted.
A soft cough sounded after some time. He looked up with red rimmed eyes to see Snow’s face, a sad patience shining through her expression.
“Killian, they're eating. Would you like to see them now?”
He shook his head and Snow sighed, sitting next to him. When she reached an arm around him, he bristled.
“The girl is having trouble eating, she seems weaker than the boy. Smee has taken to rocking her. She seems to like shanties.” Snow looked into his eyes, grief recognizing grief. “I think they need you. We think they need you.”
Killian left Snow with Emma, Snow promising to watch her and call to him if anything changed. His first steps out of the Gilded Wing’s cabin blinded him, as crew watched him with a weary understanding. Smee’s voice echoed off of the placid sea as Killian made his way down to the lower deck.
The pudgy man was rocking a small wailing babe, swathed in soft linen and loosely wrapped in the pale pink blanket Killian had made, pushing a crib with another loud crying babe with his toe. He sang out an off key tune.
“When the wind blows, we're all together, boys; Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blow Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady she goes”
The wails continued, and Killian felt himself move without realizing. He reached for the tiny girl, her face red with rage as she screamed.
“Shhhh, little love. Let's get you set proper.” He moved her tiny body against his chest, her head resting below the scruff on his chin. Her small tufts of hair matched the red auburn in his beard, making his heart stutter as he arranged her tiny limbs. “There you are,” he whispered as she fussed, before settling quietly into a scrunched pose against him. Undoing his hook carefully, he reached for the boy, scooping him into his arms.
The boy stopped crying almost immediately, instead finding Killian’s soft leather vest and sucking his fist with a contented grunt. Killian smiled, examining the child's tiny profile. His children. His and Emma’s children.
The girl whimpered again, beginning to cry. He tried to remember the books he read, Emma laughing at his checklists. Checking her small cloth nappy, and making sure she wasn't rooting for milk, he rocked and sang to them as they fell asleep.
“I'll give you everything I have, I'll teach you everything I know
I promise I'll do better
I will always hold you close, but I will learn to let you go
I will rearrange the stars, pull them down to where you are
I promise I'll do better, with every heartbeat I have left I'll defend your every breath
I promise I'll do better
I will soften every edge, hold the world to its best
I promise I'll do better
Because you are loved, you are loved more than you know
I hereby pledge all of my days to prove it so
Though your heart is far too young to realize
The unimaginable light you hold inside”
The words were just his thoughts blurred together, paired with a tune he'd heard in passing, as he accepted Emma's wish. There was truly never a question of him leaving his children. He'd changed. Hook was gone. Instead, there was only Killian, the man who had found his family and would do anything for them.
The girl quieted, falling asleep in his arms, both twins silent but for easy breaths as he rocked them, crying silent tears as he whispered to them.
“I promise I'll do better.”
From the upper deck, the crews of the Gilded Wing and the Jolly Roger watched as Captain Jones returned and fell headfirst in love with his children, Captain Hook resigned to memory.
The dark under Emma's eyelids seemed darker, more alive, as she contemplated dying. Dying. It seemed like a foreign concept with how much they had been through. Her body finally fell victim to bringing life into the world for her soulmate, which she supposed was far more heroic or long lasting than a pirate ballad sung by drunks. She had never been baptized, or taken her solemn words to the old gods, never buried seeds for the earth or any sacrament that guaranteed an afterlife. She hoped that some deity would be merciful, allowing her to watch over Killian and her children.
The thought trickled into her mind that watching them but never interacting might be its own form of hell.
“See the golden crocodile…” Something murmured to Emma, her vision adjusting to the pitch black in front of her.
“Who’s there?” She called out, surprised at the echo that seemed to come from everywhere at once. There was a skittering sound in its hollow absence, and something cackled nearby. “Dearie, it’s about time we meet. You’ve always avoided me, always been able to keep me at bay.” Scales brushed against her legs, and Emma let out a cry as she tripped, scrambling across the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, something glimmered and she squinted to make out what it was. It was gone quickly and something puffed rancid air in her face. She screamed, and backed up on her hands, the cackle following her.
“What do you want!” Emma couldn’t help but feel the place was familiar, a sensation of knowing where she was that had her crawling as fast as she could away from the maniacal laughter.
“ How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale
How cheerfully he seems to grin
How neatly spreads his claws
And welcomes little fishes in
With gently smiling jaws!”
The grating voice seemed to be right in her ear, while she heard the snap of jaws in her other as she tried to stand. “Come on Emma, Dearie… you can’t stop me now. You can’t reach the light any longer, the darkness is your only choice. Well, and death. But even then I get to keep you as a vessel with all your magic. You fell into me first. Crushing you is going to be so delicious.”
“What are you talking about?” Emma pleaded, and she saw the gleam again, running towards it.
“Well, not that you’d know, because in this timeline I don’t exist like this,” something scaly stroked her cheek and she saw a flash of golden eyes and scaled skin. “I’m the Dark One. Here, without form, I exist as a chaotic balancer of this universe. Magic users tap into the light or the dark, and you took too much. You belong to it, the light chose you after you had sapped it, but I have blocked it from its host so it can't replenish itself.”
“Is that why I can't control it? Why it is so strong or so weak? You putting up a barrier to weaken me and magic?”
“The funny thing about balance is that, it was offset by someone taking too much of the dark. There's an idiot of a man that dreams of power, but I don't want to be at his whim to achieve my goals. I want to crush the light with its chosen savior. One of you is going to give me what I need to be free, and it's you, it’s your lucky day!”
“Stop talking in riddles!” The light gleamed gold from whatever glimmered, and she realized with clarity where she was A dark decaying castle, moss growing in places, cold stone floors that were covered in rotting rugs.
As if the revelation made it happen, golden eyes blinded her with their light, and she could see the mottled skin and stringy hair of a man who shared them, his long talon like fingernails clicking together.
“Tick tock, Dearie. I need a vessel, and either you give it willingly and have a teensy bit of control, or watch me run around in your skin suit from the underworld. Either way, deal is in my favor.”
Emma tried to reach the golden thread in front of her, unable to grasp it still against whatever barrier protected it. The stone floor grew colder under her as she struggled, the gold thread reflected off its polished surface, Emma desperately willing her fingers around its length.
Killian sat by Emma’s side, her fever spiking and Whale warning him there was nothing left he could do. Tink was to make her comfortable, and Killian, David, and Snow needed to say their goodbyes. It had been hours since then, and Tink was struggling to keep her from moaning and whimpering, Killian asking her to hold on while at the same time telling her it was fine to let go. To leave.
He’d decided not long before Emma had dropped into unconsciousness that he would raise his children, the possible last vestiges of Emma he now would have as he watched helplessly from her side. Letting go of Emma’s hand, he took his tiny daughter from a tired Ruby. He’d found with growing pride that she quieted only around him, fussing at the wet nurse if he wasn’t present and talking.
“Shhh, shh, my heart. I wanted you to meet your mum earlier, but it was too dangerous for either of you. She’d never forgive me if I didn’t let you say goodbye, at least.” David sat on the other side of Emma, holding their son and crying softly. “To both of you. She loves you, and I promise you she would have been the best mother.”
Killian placed his fussing daughter in Emma’s arm, careful to support her as David did the same with their son, Snow falling into his chest.
“I love you, my darling, my Emma. Thank you.” Killian pressed a kiss to Emma’s temple, watching her body still.
Emma was exhausted, the cackle around her as she reached in vain for the golden thread making her head throb in pain, the scaled creature looking more and more opaque as she felt fire around her. Her hand pushed through, only to fall back from the force of some unseen wall surrounding the thread, or clawed hands grabbing her ankles.
“Time’s almost up, Dearie. Too bad... Still want to die?” the creature hissed at her. Emma kept fighting to reach, not willing to share any part of her body with anything so disgusting. “Fine, fight until the end. See if I care. Anything is better than having to deal with the other choice and waiting. The light has no chance if you're my vessel. I'll crush it with your own hand.”
Emma concentrated, the last bits of strength falling away from her. The cackling was cut by a voice in her ear, and a feeling of calm.
“Shhh, shh, my heart.” Killian. Looking around to make sure he wasn’t there, she listened to his voice like it was a life line. She could hear the reptile, or Dark One, screaming at her but it didn’t matter. Killian’s voice was right there. Her hand slid through the barrier with ease. She was still slightly short, an inch or so away now from the golden thread. She could feel its warmth, see the glow around the dim stone corridors in her peripheral get stronger.
“I promise you she would have been the best mother.” Emma pushed, the Dark One pulling at her legs, screaming at her, its words lost under Killian’s.
“I love you, my darling, my Emma. Thank you.”
Emma lodged a kick to the thing’s nose, reaching, fingers almost brushing the thread. The Dark One screamed at her, its voice now everywhere and grinding her down, her hold slipping as it cackled. She gave one last leap, falling just short, the Dark One giving its hoot of triumph.
“Yes! Finally!” it crowed, grinning ferally with too many teeth. Emma closed her eyes, hearing its jaw creak open, when a noise cut through everything:
The tiniest cry from an infant, right in her ear, so close she could feel it against her chest.
The thread itself moved forward at the same time as Emma did and her hand clasped it firmly, magic flowing through her body, the entire room spinning gold and bright. The scaled creature howled in defeat as it was blown away by the light, the thread now fully apart of her being.
She heard Killian first. “David, grab him, I don’t know what this is -”
“I’ve got him, shhh. Killian - What the hell, is the girl alright? Gods, I may have gone blind.”
Two cries made Emma sob in relief, her body healing at breakneck speed. Still fatigued, she tried to find a voice to speak with, but her throat ached. Willing to take the risk and test a theory, she waved a hand and choked out a laugh when a glass of water tumbled neatly into her hands.
“Emma?” Snow whispered, looking at her with disbelief. Killian’s eyes were clearing next, David still struggling having stared almost directly into whatever light had exploded.
“Help?” Emma rasped, and Snow helped tip the water into her mouth, before Killian crashed his mouth into hers. “Not helping.”
“I don’t care, I don’t bloody care,” Their daughter fussed in his arms, not pleased with being squished between her crying mother and father, regardless of how happy they were. Grinning through tears cheekily, Killian laughed at their daughters whimpered squeaks of protest. “Emma, if you promise never to do whatever the hell that was again, I’ll let you meet my children.”
“Mmmm. Your children? I do believe that I had something to do with making them.” she coughed, taking the boy from David’s outstretched arms shakily. Her brother kissed her on the cheek with tears of his own as Snow buried her face into his chest. The tiny boy made a small bleating noise, noisily latching onto a breast and Emma sighed in relief, her chest heavy. David led Snow out of the room, where they could hear delighted whoops of joy.
“You can share them with me if you take it easy, actually easy - listen to Whale, rest... Alright? I thought… I can't... ” Killian lost his words, looking at his family with nothing but adoration.
No words could explain what he had almost lost. Emma hummed a yes, kissing him gently, resting her head on his shoulder. The crew visited in intervals, until the ship quieted into its normal lull. Emma sat in Killian’s arms as he busied himself telling her all about their babies in low murmurs. continuously touching all of them as if he wasn’t sure they were real.
“Killian, did you name them?” Emma whispered later, watching the twins sleep with full bellies and soft milk drunk pouts.
“I… I didn’t.” Killian looked away from her and their sleeping children. “I couldn’t. I wanted you to be there -”
“Hey. I understand. I'm here, it's alright.” Emma reached a weak hand to him, and he relaxed. “I know what the boy’s name should be, but the girl… I thought Hope, but it doesn’t feel right.”
“You could use the southern word for it. Esperanza. ‘Hope ascends’.” The girl let out a tiny squeak against Emma’s breast, turning her head again to eat.
“Well that’s decided,” Emma laughed gently.
“What name did you think for the boy, love?” Killian trailed a finger along the curve of their son’s chubby cheek.
“Killian,” she said simply. At first, he almost said what in response, but the realization hit him hard soon after.
“Emma that’s -”
“Ian for short. It’s a strong name, and all of the Killians I know are wonderful men; devoted, brilliant, and handsome. Even if I only know the one, or now, two.”
Killian laughed, leaning to press a kiss to her forehead, looking down again to survey his son and daughter. “Esperanza and Ian Jones. Your mum and papa love you so much, and so does the rest of your family. We’re so happy you’re here.”
The members of the crew joined them again in the morning, and the memory of what happened in the darkened castle faded slightly like a dream.
Emma could only remember that someone, somewhere else, was going to see a little crocodile with shiny golden scales. Someone, somewhere else would allow a crocodile to eat their soul.
#Riptide#CSBB#CSBB 2018#Captain Swan Big Bang#captain swan#captain swan fanfiction#captain swan au#Courtorderedcake
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Clumsiness and Teasing
Thank you so much for commissioning me again, @arod7293! I hope you like this new take on the wive’s tale ;D
Summary: Linnea and Shigure are all grown up -- and have a little sister named after their grandmother Arete. With age, Linnea now learns the meaning of romantic love, and, hopefully, she won’t mess it up with Caeldori! Takes place 17 years after “Clumsy Family Time”!
Commission info HERE and HERE!
The land is Valla. Over twenty years have passed after the war had ended, and much of this mystical world was already rebuilt. There are now two generations who never had to experience the grips of battle, peace seeping into the land like the water after a rainshower.
A young woman grumbled under the map she held upside-down after trying to decipher it from every direction. "This can't be right! Father wouldn't give me an outdated map! I must be the one reading this wrong..." She pouted, digging her feet on the ground to stop. "Urgh, here I am in a place too beautiful for words, but I can't tell left for right!"
The red-haired woman dried her sweating forehead with the back of her hand, once again digging her face into the map. "The portal was supposed to take me inside the western garden, right? I know I'm inside something related to plants due to how many there are here," she huffed, looking around the wide variety of flora in every shape and size imaginable. Not to mention the colors! "But this can't be inside a castle, can it? I must have been walking for over 15 minutes and I'm yet to see a single building!"
Sighing, she slumped for a moment before lifting her head up, puffing her chest. "Come on, Caeldori, you can do this! You can't fail on a simple delivery mission!" She pumped herself up, glancing down at the pouch her Father had given her one hour previous.
She didn't know the details, but she knew that her father, Subaki, was supplying Queen Corrin's butler, Jakob, with hoshidan delicacies of a sort. "Maybe for the Queen Regent, Her Majesty Rhajat? From what I've heard, she's hoshidan-born..."
Not realizing she had started walking, Caeldori brought the map to her heart, sighing wishfully. "If that's so, it's sooo romantic! Imagine, being married for over 20 years and still making sure to surprise your wife with things she loves from her homeland? What a dream come true! I only hope I can find a love so strong and beautiful and... and... Siiighs." She looked up with longing eyes, remembering all the wonderful love stories she had read in the past.
Finally being silent for a few seconds, her mind wandered to the lands of romance novels and epic tales of the war against the Silent Dragon. Tales of Queen Corrin and Princess Azura, the Songstress of Fate. They say that whoever hears her holy songs will forever be blessed with good luck and wonder... Oh, how magical! And romantic!
"I wonder if I'll be able to meet Lady Azura someday... I'm sure she's much more than what they make of her, and they make quite a lot!" Caeldori bounced herself up, once again walking without knowing the way. "It would be of an extreme audacity to ask her to sing for me, so maybe if I asked Nina to help me sneak around-- no, wait, what am I thinking? I can't sneak- huh? What was that? A... singing voice?" The young woman gasped, rolling the forgotten map and placing it back on her belt. "C-could it be... Lazy Azura? Am I finally going to be blessed with good luck in love?!" She couldn't contain her smile and did her best to follow the faint voice through her thundering heartbeat.
What the trees do, ♪
not only in lightning storms ♫
or the watery dark of a summer’s night ♪
or under the white nets of winter ♫
but now, and now, and now – whenever ♪
we’re not looking. ♫
Caeldori blinked at the sight in front of her, inadverdently placing both hands over her mouth in surprise.
Surely you can’t imagine ♫
they don’t dance, from the root up, wishing ♪
to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting ♫
a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly ♪
more shade! ♫
A young woman, no older than Caeldori herself, happily sang as water danced all around her, watering the plants. "Grow strong and pretty, little ones!" She giggled in the middle of the song, twirling around herself so as to guide the water to nearby plants.
surely you can’t imagine they just ♪
stand there loving every ♫
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings ♪
She had long, light pink hair, a long strand of it painted as well as its ends in a light blue, which followed her as she gleefuly danced, unaware of the pair of eyes watching her. And the young heart beating for her.
She wore simple clothing, but Caeldori could see from her bearing: that was no flower girl. The grace with which she danced, the angelic melody which lifted a lost girl's spirits, the mystical power to control water... That young woman was a princess.
Caeldori had to place one hand over her heart, trying to still it. The young woman danced barefoot over the garden, her feet knowing exactly where to step so as not to hurt any flowers, no matter how small. It was as though she was in sync with the whole forest.
"Does this water taste good? Consider it a snack from your usual well water!" She kissed a flower as tall as her and giggled, once again setting out to water its siblings.
of the years slowly and without a sound ♫
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind, ♪
and then only in its own mood, comes ♫
to visit, surely you can’t imagine ♪
patience, and happiness, like that! ♫
Caeldori forgot to blink, the same way she forgot to breathe. Somehow, she couldn't recall how to speak, either. Too entranced by the spontaneous dance and song in front of her, she simply stood there, being enveloped by a warm atmosphere, much like the one you feel whenever a healing staff is pointed at you.
Such a great peace and feeling of belonging... Caeldori closed her eyes and leaned on a nearby trunk to take it all in.
Which would be a great idea were she in a proper hiding place, not in the exact woods the young woman was about to water.
"Hyaaa! C-cold!" Caeldori shrieked as a splash of water hit her face, making her fall on her bottom. "Ow, ow..."
"Awawawa! There was someone there? Oh no, I'm so sorry!" The princess jumped over the bushes towards the voice. "Are- are you okay- oh, wow, you're so pretty and- oh, soaked! I'm so sorry! Please, come here so I can find you some dry clothes!" She quickly grabbed a surprised Caeldori's hand and pulled her towards-- a building! Was Caeldori finally on the right way?
"Um- I'm sorry for starling you, but I'm alright. I just needed to find the castle to-"
"Nuh-uh, no can do! I can't let you walk around all wet like that! I know it's spring and not that cold, but still! A girl as pretty as you shouldn't walk around all wet and dirty like that!" The girl grinned, lifting her index up, matter-of-factly.
Blinking, Caeldori felt her cheeks redden and looked down to realize they were holding hands as the girl guided her inside the castle and through a few corridors. "I offer you my thanks, then, um..."
"Oh!" The girl let go of the handhold and turned around, her clear, sun-colored eyes sincerely surprised and humbled. "How could I just pull you around like that without introducing myself!" She patted her dress and curtsied. "I'm Linnea! Nice to meet you, um..."
"The pleasure is mine, Linnea. I'm Caeldori, Subaki's daughter." She straightened herself the most she could, though her hand already missed Linnea's warmth.
"Nice to meet you, Caeldori! And sorry for the, uh, water thing. I'm a bit clumsy, see. It runs in the family." She giggled, scratching the back of her neck. "But enough of that, let's go get you a change of clothes!" Bouncing up from the moment of shyness due to her clumsiness, Linnea quickly took Caeldori's hand again.
This time, Caeldori welcomed the touch and reciprocated, holding Linnea's hand back. "Thank you for the offer, Linnea. And don't worry about the water. I think it may have been a good thing." She whispered the last part to herself, the thoughts of princes and princesses saving the damsel in distress jumbling around inside her mind. She smiled softly to herself, wondering if she was inside one of the novels she oh so loved.
Quite used to her own clumsiness and how to deal with it, Linnea simply smiled and guided the new girl to her room. Once there, she quickly found a red and white dress (which would suit Caeldori immensely!) and made her change after drying herself.
Caeldori protested for a few minutes, not wanting to impose, but noticed that Linnea could be quite stubborn when she put her mind into it. Sighing in defeat, with a tiny smile to betray her, Caeldori accepted the dress and towel, helping herself out of her garments behind a folding screen.
"Your skin and hair are super pretty, so I immediately thought of this dress for you, heehee! I'm sure it's gonna be a perfect fit, even better than it does on me!"
"R-really? But you're already so pretty, I'm not sure how it COULDN'T be a perfect fit on you..." She replied from behind the screen, too excited with the whole situation to think straight.
A gasp from the other side of the screen. "Heehee, we're just calling each other pretty left and right!"
Caeldori coughed. "W-we are, aren't we?"
"Yep! But I do mean it; I think you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen! And I'm my Mothers' daughter!"
"Mothers?" Caeldori asked, throwing her hair over her shoulder so as to tie some knots behind her back. "So you really are-"
"Oh, didn't I say? Awawa, there I go again, skipping things. And you even told me you're Sir Subaki's daughter! My Mother's Azura and my Mom's Felicia!" She tiptoed to the folding screen. "You're taking an awful lot of time there- oh, the back knots? Let me help!"
Blushing, Caeldori reflexively covered her front in surprise, though she was already clothed. "D-did you just peep on me?"
It was Linnea's turn to blush, though she simply smirked and took the knoting away from Caeldori's hand. "Mayyybe. It could've been your imagination, though?"
"Hah! Someone call the guards, I've got a pervert!" Caeldori laughed, holding her hair with one hand, covering her mouth with the other.
Linnea let out a fake gasp. "Oh nooo, what shall I do? I'll live in the dungeon and never see my dear and pretty friend Caeldori!"
"E-enough with the compliments, already!" She blushed, raising her shoulders, sinking her face downwards.
"Pretty, prettier, prettiest!" Linnea teased, quickly finishing the job and twirling around so as to escape Caeldori's mock slap.
Gentle breeze through her hair, ♫
she walks elegantly while astonished eyes all stare. ♫
Rosy cheeks cover her face. ♫
"It is her -- Caeldori!" Linnea ran as a very embarrassed Caeldori pursued her around the room, jumping over chairs, tables, sofas and both beds.
"You're going to embarrass me to death!!"
"What a way to go! Haha!" Linnea jumped over a fainting couch, once again going behind the folding screen, Caeldori breathing down her neck.
"Come back here!"
Laughing, Linnea sang another verse, but her feet caught on something and she tripped. "Catch me- whoops!" She fell headfirst, entangling herself on Caeldori's things.
"Oh, no, I can't stop- wah!" The hoshidan tripped on Linnea's foot, falling right on top of her. "I-I'm sorry! Are you oka-" She gasped.
Close.
Close, close, close, close. They were really close!
"Oh, wow, as I thought, you really are beautiful." Linnea smiled softly, brushing her hand on Caeldori's cheek, centimeters away from her face. Their breaths intertwined as the air stilled due to the red hair caging them into a private space of their own.
"I-I told you to stop this..." She bit her lower lip, feeling her throat dry. "The pretty one here is you."
Linnea's heart was thundering on her ears -- having a pretty girl fall on you had that effect, after all, especially one as nice and humble as Caeldori. "Now YOU'RE flattering me." She snorted.
Caeldori pouted. "Humph," she sat down, crossing her arms. "I'm the only one getting all flustered here."
"No way, I'm super happy, see?" Linnea grabbed her friend's hand and placed it over her chest. "Thumping super hard, right?"
"M-my hand is on your chest and that's all you have to say?" Caeldori quickly pulled away, embarrassed.
Blinking, Linnea tilted her head to the side. "I was the one who put it there, right?"
"L-Linnea!"
The princess lifted both hands up in defeat. "Heehee, you're just so fun to talk to, Caeldori! I couldn't help it."
"Honestly..." The girl mumbled, looking down at where they both sat. "O-oh no! Father's parcel! I must deliver it!"
"Weh?" Linnea watched as a flustered Caeldori picked up her bag and checked if the contents were intact. "So that's why you showed up around here in Valla? To deliver something for Sir Subaki?"
"Yes, exactly." Sighing in relief after making sure everything was in place, Caeldori had a relaxed smile on her face. "Could I trouble you in guiding me to where the butler Jakob is? It's something for his hands only, as Father told me."
Linnea placed one finger over her lips in thought. "I can do that, but you have to promise me to come back tomorrow! I don't want to say goodbye to a new friend this soon -- not to someone this pretty, anyway!"
"Linnea!" Caeldori got up, pouting. "I promise to come back, but you must stop with all this flattering; it's making me uncomfortable..."
The shade of pink in the girl's face only made Linnea want to praise her more, but she was an obedient princess -- most of the time, anyway. "Okay, deal. I'll refrain from... saying the truth so often, then." She winked as she got up, giving her arm for Caeldori to hold.
Which she did, the blush never leaving her cheeks. "Honestly..." She looked away, letting the princess guide her out of the room towards the pantry.
After delivering the parcel, Linnea once again guided Caeldori to the portal, but now to the central one instead of the western one. "That map you have is and isn't updated -- I only asked to have the western garden for myself two years ago, so there hadn't been many new maps drawn after that."
"That garden belongs to you?" Caeldori asked, by the portal.
"Yep, but if I tell you the whole story now, we won't have much to talk about tomorrow, right? And I want to spend the whole day with you, so come early, you hear?"
Caeldori's heart skipped a beat. "W-what a demanding princess!"
Linnea winked. "It's a royal decree."
"Then I must abide to it, huh?" The girl let out a mock sigh, smiling right after. "Thank you for the dress -- I'll make sure to bring it back properly washed."
"You can keep it, though -- it suits you much more than it did me. Actually, please keep it! It'll be my present to you as your new friend."
"First of all: unfair! I never had the opportunity to give you something. Second of all: you're embarrassing me again!" She said with a blush.
Linnea laughed. "Then start thinking about my present? Homework! And take as long as you need, since that'll give you an excuse to keep visiting me!"
"Demanding princess..." Caeldori grumbled under a poorly-hidden smile, turning to the portal. "See you tomorrow, Linnea."
Linnea wriggled goodbye with her fingers, a confident smile on her lips. "See you!"
The moment Caeldori stepped into the portal and disappeared, Linnea's feet gave out. "What... what was that? By the gods, what- who- I'm-" She almost shrieked, her heart beating so fast she almost passed out. "Shigure! Shiguree!" She got up with a pop, quickly running back to the study wing. "Shigure!" She called again, banging open the door to the art room.
Unsurprised by his sister's arrival, Shigure simply kept on painting whatever he was focused on. "Did our visitor leave already, sister?"
Linnea dragged her hands over her face, dramatically falling on floor. "She was just- SO PRETTY! Shigure, I never saw someone so pretty and smooth and funny and- all of her reactions were so cute! She kept on blushing and stuttering and pouting and- so, sooo pretty!" She squealed, kicking her feet in the air. "And I'm gonna see her tomorrow again! I don't think my heart's ready for that? She's too cute! I don't think I trust myself to be near her- What're you so focused on, anyway? I'm having a mental breakdown here and you're not even looking at me!"
Chuckling, the prince gestured with his chin for his twin sister to get up. "I don't suppose she looked like this?" He pointed to the accurate portrait of Caeldori that he was just finishing up.
"NO WAY! YOU CAPTURED HER PERFECTLY! What the- Even her pink and adorable aura and the butterflies in my stomach I felt when I saw her- oh, waiit a minute."
Shigure patted Linnea on the back. "Of course I saw her through our bond. Or rather, you shoved her in my face the whole day so I had to draw her out lest I became enamored with her as you were."
"You felt even the butterflies?" Entranced by the painting, Linnea didn't hear the last bit, touching one of the countless wings that clustered the background.
"It's a wonder you didn't pass out. You were so excited I was having difficulty to breathe!"
"Well, so was I, honestly. Did you see her? I mean, I know you painted her and all -- and although I recognize your art skills, she's so much more than this! So, so much more..."
"..." Smiling, Shigure crossed his arms, knowing what his sister was going to ask.
"Though, can I still have it? I wanna look at it every day." She almost hugged the canvas, but knew better than to touch a drying painting.
"Hah!" The prince sneered, then laughed. "Of course you can, but will you hang it in your room? Won't she see it the next time she visits?"
Linnea placed one hand over her chin in thought. "Yeah, and I don't want her to think I'm creepy. Sooo, will you keep it in your room? It's much closer to mine than this art room-"
"Absolutely not! I don't want any misunderstandings to occur by having a random girl's portrait in my room!"
"Aw, you're no fun."
Back in Hoshido, a flustered Caeldori crossed the portal as her mind swirled. "What was THAT about? I- I couldn't have been inside a novel- nothing that happened was ever written!"
"A what? Novel? Girl, are you daydreaming again?" A familiar voice startled the red-haired girl out of her skin.
"N-Nina! Don't scare me like that!" She placed one hand over her thumping heart.
"What? I'm standing right in front of you. You were gonna bump right into me, you know? What blinded you? C'mon, you know you can tell your friend Nina, here."
Caeldori's shoulders slumped, as though reality came crashing down on her. No way that she had been living a dream of being found by a princess. "Oh, nothing..."
Yet, somehow, saying that Linnea was 'nothing' made her tongue burn. She wondered why.
"Caeldoriiii...?" Nina hoovered around her friend, bumping their foreheads together. "If you don't tell me what happened, I'm just gonna open my stalk- uh, my OBSERVATION notebook and tell you about how Shiro gained muscle mass again today. And where."
"Oh, no, please not again! I don't want to hear about Shiro's glutes for twelve hours straight ever again!" Caeldori hid her face under her hands.
Nina closed her notebook, smirking. "Then, dish."
"Oh, alright." She gave up, feeling her face tickle with an upcoming blush. "I just... met someone there."
"OHOOO?" Nina widened one eye, crossing her arms and leaning on her friend.
"N-not in that way, you-!"
"I didn't say anything? Go on..." She hummed, accompanying her friend as she walked aimlessly.
"She's Linnea, Lady Azura's daughter and she- she was nothing like her mother! Apart from, uh, being very pretty and singing so good it felt like I was in heaven and-"
Nina simply observed, her smirk growing as Caeldori complimented Linnea more and more. Seems like someone's got A CRUSH! She thought with wide eyes, making a mental note to stalk- uh, observe her friend the next time she went to visit her new special friend.
"And she gave you this awesome dress? Go on..."
As she had promised, Caeldori went to visit the next morning. This time, she crossed through the central portal, already knowing the way towards the western garden.
"I thought I could walk you arm-in-arm again, boo!" Linnea commented as she showed Caeldori around the garden.
"You can take my arm now- uh..." Caeldori blurted out, immediately blushing right after.
Linnea choked, her face bright red. "R-really? Then, don't mind if I do!" She quickly linked their arms, wondering if her friend could hear how loud her heart was beating. Unaware that the exact same thoughts crossed the hoshidan's mind.
They walked around the wonderfully strange vallite garden, Linnea happily supplying Caeldori with information regarding each and every plant and flower around.
The princess told her friend that she had that patch of wilderness in the middle of the castle because she was way too in touch with nature, and that had made her get into trouble more than once outside the castle. Tripping on snakes thinking they were roots, falling into ditches and having to be rescued by her twin brother, having branches break under her and having to stay in bed for weeks due to sprained ankles or broken arms... It was a wonder Linnea was this cheerful while still being so clumsy.
She also said that her brother was just like her, and the day Caeldori met Shigure, she couldn't quite believe Linnea since he looked so... composed. Especially compared to his sister. Years later and Caeldori would still think that Linnea was exaggerating that day.
Back to the present, Linnea told Caeldori that she had a connection with the flora as her brother had with the fauna. Whenever they both sang, the forest would appear to bloom greener and the the animals would hop all around them. It was a sight to behold, honestly, and Caeldori couldn't help but imagine it all as something straight out of a fantasy book.
She felt herself inside one, by meeting Linnea. The princess was so very charming and cheerful and pretty and well-mannered and mischievous... Every minute in her company was a sight to behold! Caeldori was always in for a surprise in Linnea's company.
Unaware of the magical thoughts inside her friend's mind, Linnea also felt high strung by being in Caeldori's presence -- the girl had memorized the path after being in it for ten minutes! She was also a great cook and knew so much about so many subjects -- the night Linnea asked Caeldori to stay over, the hoshidan marveled Valla's astrology as she imparted her knowledge about hoshidan and nohrian astrology both, as well as how physically STRONG she was! She single-handedly helped Linnea reallocate a fallen tree trunk one time and Linnea had been dreaming about Caeldori's muscles ever since.
"Linnea? Are you listening?" Caeldori waved in front of her friend whose eyes were plastered on her bare arms.
"Uh, weh?" Drying the drool, Linnea looked up to Caeldori's eyes, immediately losing her breath. "I was, uh, listening, yep. Totally."
Caeldori narrowed her eyes. "Really? Then what was I talking about?"
"Um..." Linnea looked around, as though an excuse could pop up from the ground beneath them. "... Stuff."
"Sister..." Shigure face-palmed from behind a bush. For the past few days, he couldn't help but follow his sister and her crush around. He told himself because Linnea's reactions to anything Caeldori did disrupted their bond to the point of making him lose concentration, but honestly, it was just because it was interesting.
"Oh gods, she's worse than Caeldori." Nina blurted out from behind a nearby bush.
The two of them, Nina and Shigure, had gotten acquainted during these stalki- observing sessions of theirs, and respected each other's spaces enough to never really speak to each other.
"I wish I could say otherwise, but really, I can't." Shigure whispered under his hand, not wanting to feel second-handed embarrassment any longer.
"You two are terrible stalkers if you keep talking like that." Arete mumbled from behind a tree. "You're missing out the good part!"
"Hey, you're supposed to keep watch!" Nina pointed to the younger girl, speaking in nothing but a whisper.
"But keeping watch is boring!" Arete protested, puffing her cheeks.
"It's a little sister's duty to protect her big sister's date, c'mon, shoo!" Nina made a dismissive gesture with her hand, trying to scat the young princess away.
"Wait, I think someone else's here," Shigure shushed the both of them, daring to take his head out of his hiding spot.
"Oh, no!" Arete slapped both hands over her mouth.
"It's because you didn't keep watch, little sister!" Nina hissed.
Unaware of the situation behind them, Linnea and Caeldori had gone from a discussion about whatever it was that Caeldori was saying to Linnea teasing her friend once again about her beauty to the hoshidan trying to playfully push the princess away to them laughing and realizing how close their faces were.
Again.
And yet, this time... it felt natural.
"I really like this sight," Linnea whispered, placing a tuft of hair behind Caeldori's ear. The hoshidan did the same with Linnea's blue strand of hair.
"This blue bit... did you dye it?" Caeldori couldn't really see anything but Linnea, her breathing so loud she could barely hear her melodious voice.
Linnea felt a force pulling her to Caeldori, her smile growing. "No...? It's natural. From both my mothers, see." She opened her mouth, feeling it being called by Caeldori's.
Blushing, the hoshidan closed her eyes, entranced. "It's so wonderfully beautiful." She whispered, feeling the itch of Linnea's lips on her.
"There! I found her, Kana!" A little girl pointed to Linnea's back, jumping from behind a bush.
"Auntie Linnea!" An equally little boy followed suit, smiling. "We wanted to ask if you have a flower we can take to our Mam- Auntie?"
"Are you okay?" The little girl, Kana's twin sister Kamyu, tilted her head to the side.
Linnea had fallen face-first into the dirt as Caeldori jumped up in record speed. "I'm... I'm fine..." She raised her hand, but clenched it instead. "C-Caeldori, I'm-!" She lifted her head, but the hoshidan quickly turned around and left.
"I-I'm sorry, I- I left the laundry hanging!" She said, running back to the portal.
From behind a bush, three youths face-palmed so deeply, they lied down on the ground. "I can't believe it! They were this close; THIS close...!" Nina complained.
Shigure hid his face with both hands, blushing deeply. Linnea's emotions were a mess and they were bleeding into him. "Just an inch more and..."
"I-I'm sorry, it's all my fault... I didn't keep watch!" Arete panicked, looking from her sister to her brother, then to the royal twins, oblivious to what had happened.
"Ugh," Nina was compelled to agree, but chose not to. The girl was just a kid. "It's fine, I'm sure they would've found a way to ruin it themselves. They're a disaster."
"I'm forced to agree." Shigure nodded under his hands, trying to calm himself down. "I suppose we must take matters into our own hands."
"Now you're talking! Let's hear it!"
"P-please let me make up for my mistake!" Arete crouched beside her brother, her eyes eager to help.
"Very well. Listen..."
Still feeling terrible for what almost was, Linnea really didn't feel like running this sudden errand for her brother. And yet, maybe that was what she needed to take her mind away from... worldly thoughts.
"I could even feel them! I was THIS close, ugh..." She groaned, then slumped as she walked. "Still, maybe I should apologize. I think I made my intentions clear from the start, but maybe she doesn't like me that way... Oh, gods, that'd be embarrassing..."
Dragging her feet, the princess crossed the portal to a special DeepRealm for their family. She had heard from her mothers that more than few of their memories occurred in that timeless place. Happy, sad, angry memories... if there was one place in the whole world that had seen every single side of them, was that special place.
Linnea felt jealous of it, now that she thought about it. "I wanted to make my garden into my special place with Caeldori, but I guess that didn't go as planned..." She grumbled, kicking some dirt as she looked down. Shigure had asked her to pick a special flower that only bloomed there for a new kind of paint he was developing. Linnea knew which flower it was since she, too, came to that place since infancy.
She knew that her brother was looking out for her, by taking her away from her own garden so as to take her mind away from... stuff, but still.
"I'd much rather be in Caeldori's arms right about now. That sounds good. Maybe kissing her- I wonder how do her lips taste..." She licked her own, crouching down to take some of the flowers, not noticing how there was someone in the clearing right ahead.
"Um... maybe you can find out." A very familiar and loving voice sounded from above Linnea.
The flower fell from the princess' hand.
Her heart thundered in her ears, her eyes looking up and up and up until they met the wonderful color of Caeldori's eyes. "I'm- uh, am I still dreaming or-"
"Please just kiss the girl, KISS HER!" Nina cheered from a faraway branch. She had asked Caeldori to pick the same flower from that DR just a few hours ago.
Arete had her eyes glued on the romantic (if it could be called that) scene playing in front of her. Shigure silently cheered, almost jumping in to shove their faces on each other.
"I-I'm sorry I ran away earlier, I was- um, embarrassed because there were kids and-"
Linnea jumped on her feet, holding Caeldori's shoulders. "Did you really mean what you said? I can taste them now?" She asked, bearing desperation.
Reflexively, Caeldori licked her lips, looking at Linnea's. "Um, yes. But if you don't do it quick, I'll have to-mmph!" She almost ordered, but Linnea wasn't going to wait for a royal invitation.
"YESSS!" Nina cheers loudly, losing her balance and falling on top of Shigure and Arete both.
Caeldori and Linnea could have stopped the kiss out of surprise, but, honestly, who cares if they were being watched? To taste one another, they wouldn't mind being stalked by a sibling or friend, or two.
But once that kiss ended, they might plot for a murder or two, as well.
"For now... can I have seconds?" Linnea licked Caeldori's lips, losing herself in their intertwined breathing.
"Oh, please do."
Poems:
Can You Imagine? By Mary Oliver
What She Is To Me © Darren C Swartland
#fire emblem fates#shigure#nina#caeldori#fanfic commissions#fatesona#Yuki's Commissions#my writings#feliciazura
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