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rubydubydoo122 · 2 months

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In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason), and lowkey cannibalistic gore?

Jason found himself kneeling in grass, rain pelting down, soaking his hair, and knees. He leaded his head forwards and closed his eyes, murmuring a soft, “May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life.” to the Robin that had just died.

In the background, he could hear Dick yelling, “Let me at him! He just– let me go !”

“Dick, Chum, we’re not–we’re not in the Manor anymore.”

No. They were in a cemetery. Specifically, Jason was kneeling in front of his grave. He knew what was going to happen. He wasn’t going to try to stop this one.

Jason turned around, to sit on the slight ledge of his grave and leaned his head back, until it was touching stone.

“Why are we…?” Dick trailed off. He wasn’t exactly looking to where Jason was sitting, but he was looking at a tombstone.

Bruce was staring down Jason again, and Jason buried his face in his hands to break eye contact, “I think we need to take a break. Figure out everything we know. Maybe get some rest. I think we have about two-five hours here.” probably closer to two. He remembers panicking.

Dick turned to Jason with a question on his face, but then saw where Jason was sitting. His eyes narrowed, “You’re already dead here? So maybe the pattern was wrong. All we have to do is wait for Talia to show up, follow her, and rescue you after you’ve taken a dip in the pit.”

“Talia didn’t go grave robbing. She’s not crazy, and Bruce has sensors for that. He would’ve known.”

Dick moved closer to Jason, “Then how…?”

He stared hard at the patch of dirt. The feeling of his nails cracking and dirt in his mouth, suddenly overtaking him. Except, that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was before that. It was the true serenity, followed by the sudden hit of life. The feeling of being woken up from a good dream that you never wanted to leave.

He was at rest. Let him stay asleep. “I woke up.”

Bruce crossed his arms, “You…woke up? As in…” He looked from the tombstone to the ground.

Jason showed him his hands in response. The jagged lines where the wood tore off his nails and skin. The crooked finger that broke while clawing through mud that never quite set properly.

All of Jason’s injuries were healed by the time he got to the pit. It was just his mind that was broken. So he was still left with all the scars from before he died, and after.

He felt the hairs on his neck stand up as the mystical forces picked up around them. He’d just woken up.

Dick looked pale, but he immediately knelt to the ground and started clawing at the mud, “We’ve gotta get you out– is the a shovel somewhere or–”

“Dick, stop.”

“Jason, This is the only you we know we can save.”

“No. We don’t . When I crawled out of my grave, I was completely catatonic. I was a husk of a human being. Blood might’ve been pumping through my veins and air might’ve been flowing through my lungs, but I was not alive .” Jason pointed to his temple, “Not in here. I aimlessly wandered the streets, and got hit by a car , Dick.”

“Then we help get him to this world’s Bruce.”

“You think Talia didn’t want to do just that ? I know you guys think she kept me from you for her own selfish reasons, but she didn’t . After she found me she wasn’t sure that I’d survive to the next day . That’s how impaired I was. She didn’t give me back to Bruce because she didn’t want him to lose me again , because she thought it would absolutely break him.”

“We could–”

“If he lives he lives, if he dies he dies . Your grief is clouding your judgment.”

“How could you say that? If it was a civilian who was buried alive , we would do anything in our power to get them out .”

“Because it’s different! I wasn’t buried alive , I was buried dead . I’m a cosmic mistake– higher entities have told me that. I’m supposed to be dead. He’s ,” Jason pointed to the ground, “Supposed to be dead. Bruce always says we can’t play Judge, Juror or Executioner. We can’t play God either. Let him rest . Just let him rest.”

For a beat, they were all frozen. Until Dick moved to sit next to him. Legs pressed up against each other. Making sure Jason was really in front of him, and not some cruel hallucination.

Suddenly, the rain stopped pelting on top of them, and the night sky was a lot darker than before.

Bruce was holding his cape up to shield them from the rain. Like he used to do when they were both much smaller. Yet, it still felt oddly the same. “Dick and I need new civilian clothes. After that, we should get food.”

They started towards Gotham city. There were carved pumpkins and skeletons everywhere, so it was near Halloween. The bat signal was lit, and the people of Gotham were wearing gas masks. So Scarecrow was out. It probably was Halloween.

That’s crazy. Did Jason really crawl out of his grave on Halloween? Though, it was an alternate reality, so maybe this Jay did, for shits and giggles, but Jason might not have.

“Is… was today Tim’s first day on the job?” Dick was currently drowning his pancakes in maple syrup. They were all in civies, and sitting in a booth at a 24 hour diner. It had shut down, but had always been a quick stop for food after a rough patrol.

Jason pushed the thought of the young Tim sobbing against his chest. He’s never going to be as big as you . None of the four Jason's will.

“Yes.” Bruce forked a piece of his eggs, and caught Jason’s look. though, he probably read it wrong because, “He showed up to fight Scarecrow with a red ski mask.” Bruce raised an eyebrow, “I’m sure you came back out of pure spite.”

Jason blinked. That was a joke… from Bruce. Did he get a concussion? Was he in shock?

He looked to Dick who seemed more exasperated than phased.

Bruce cleared his throat when he realized the joke didn’t seem to land, “We need to figure out if there’s more to this than just Jay dying. We have two caused by the Joker, one that was an accident, and the other was natural causes. I don’t think the cause of death will be the same.”

Jason pushed around some berries on his plate, “Bruce, do you think that the Joker's confrontation was… a bit too intimate for a Joker that wasn’t ours?” It was his confrontation with Bruce pretty much word for word. It made him want to throw up.

Dick gripped his fork harder as both him and Bruce said, “Yes.”

Jason looked at Dick in confusion. As far as he knew, Bruce did not talk about that night with anyone. Except Dick didn’t feel the need to explain. Which is fine, he’s allowed to have his secrets, but now he’s wondering what part of that confrontation was directed to get under Dick’s skin. “But we’re not in that reality anymore. Our priority should be making sure each Jason we come across is safe.”

“Though I don’t disagree, our priority should be finding a way home.” Bruce countered, and looked to Jason pointedly, “We can’t play God. We’re being sent to universes where Jason is fated to…die. There might not be much we can do.”

“The Tragedy of Jason Todd: The Boy Fated to Die.” Jason paused, “Hm, that’d be a great title for my autobiography.”

Dick sighed defeatedly, “Hush, Jason, the adults are speaking.”

(Hi! Author here! I wanna have Jason go, “Well I’m taller,” in Tiny Tim fashion and Dick go, “Well, currently, you’re six feet under. So shut the fuck up.” But it’s terribly ooc, so I’m not. Just know that I really wanted to write it though)

“Dick, I’m 23.”

Dick, like the dick he was, ignored that, “What if we talked to Wally.”

Bruce made his, I don’t need help, I’m Batman face. Dick rolled his eyes, “He might not be able to bring us back home, but maybe he can get a message to the family or something. They can work on a device from home. It’s the same plan from before, just… more communication.”

Jason nodded, “I mean… It was both of your lack of communication that got us into this mess. Maybe that’s the lesson you need to learn. To talk and share.”

“Says Mr. I’ve been alive for seven years and I’m only just now telling my family my mother betrayed me and I crawled out of my own grave. ”

“That’s different. That’s trauma. I should be allowed the grace to tell you guys when I’m comfortable with telling you guys.” Though, maybe he should tell them about the magic swords he has.

Nah, it’s not that important.

“Well, you didn’t tell us about your previous cosmic adventure.”

“That’s honestly because Bruce is a super stalker and I thought he already knew.”

To that, Dick had nothing to say.

“I want a mission report on this.”

“Bruce, it was literally five years ago. The only thing I remember is Rayner and I fighting every five minutes. God that guy was… embittered. He thought I was trying to get with Donna.” Like ew, no, that was Jason’s big sister… Even though he shot her. But it worked out in the long run. And what’s a little bloodshed between siblings. He, Damian, and Tim were relatively ok.

Dick frowned, “Huh, usually Kyle’s really nice to everyone.”

“Well, apparently he has a thing against ‘Angst Ridden Bad Boys’, his words, not mine.”

Dick raised his eyebrows, “Oh that totally sums you up. Did he also have a thing against you quoting Hamlet? Did he absolutely loathe you geeking out over 19th century fashion.”

“Oh! We actually did go to a Victorian Era Gotham. That was honestly probably the best part of our multiversal adventure. Wait. We’re getting off track. I think we should vote. All in favor of talking to Wally…” He and Dick both raised their hands. “Two against one. Sorry Bruce.”

Bruce stabbed his eggs, “We’re not calling Wally, because we’re currently in Gotham and my no-metas allowed rule was like an iron fist during this time period. Maybe if we go to a universe where we can actually talk to our counterparts, then we can call whatever runner is available. For now, we’re getting our bearings. Anything other commonality we might’ve missed”

Dick mashed a banana that was on his plate, “I would say they were all… birds. Except the second one.”

Jason pushed his plate towards the center, and unfolded a napkin, “Bruce, can I have a pen– or a marker would be better so I don’t rip the page, but anything.”

Bruce handed him a copic red marker, that was probably Damian’s. During stakeouts he usually starts sketching.

Jason made a T-chart, going down were traits, and across was each Jason. Mama’s boy Jay, Jay #2, Regina George Jay, Jay+Egg, and Zombie.

“Those are horrible headings.”

“Should I have done Jay 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5?”

“Yes.”

Jason shrugged, “Oh well, too late now.”

The first trait was Robin? “What are we qualifying for… the mantle? Cus, technically, Mama’s Boy was supposed to be taking a break from it, Regina George wasn’t in the suit, and Zombie… hasn’t been to work in a while.”

Bruce grunted, “Yes, no, yes, yes, no.”

“I know there isn’t any correlation between them, but the places.”

Jason jotted that down– Ethiopia :(, Crime Alley, Corner of Diamond and Old, Wayne Manor, Six Feet Under Gotham Cemetery.

“Cause of…ya know.”

Smoke Inhalation, Hypothermia, probable collapsed lung/concussion, Gunshot wound– Carotid Artery, Co2 poisoning Suffocation, Just in case it’s the dirt, not the air. They’ll know if they disappear before the five hour mark. Jason furrowed his eyebrows, and jotted down the ages, 15, 10, 13, 14, 16? 15,

Dick glanced at the page, “Hopefully, that changes. Maybe we’ll get an age range of Jays. And hopefully 10 year old Jay was an outlier.”

The chances of that were low, but Jason wasn’t going to tell Dick that. There were hundreds of opportunities for him to die on the streets. 10 was probably the lowest value, but the mode was probably… 11. He was fighting for his life on the streets trying not to get pimped again by the time the next winter came around. Making a plot chart might not be a bad idea. Though that would have to be later. With real paper.

He folded up the napkin, handed both the marker and their info sheet to Bruce, and brought back his plate of strawberry french toast. He wanted to say, “You’re optimistic if you really think I had a higher chance at life while I was living on the streets.” but he didn’t. Because his mouth was full, and Alfred had taught him manners.

They continued to eat in silence, until a chill ran down Jason’s spine. “I think we’re gonna leave soon.” When both Bruce and Dick gave him a confused look, he groaned, “if we were in a universe where your counterpart was dying, you would know too.”

Bruce got out his wallet and placed a 100 dollar bill on the table, as Dick grabbed The T duffle bag with their stuff, and the room turned white.

(The Lamb, By William Blake)

As soon as they landed in this new universe, Jason could immediately tell the magic was much stronger in this universe.

The next thing he could immediately tell was that he was in a warehouse. Again. Yey.

“Mea!” Was that… a lamb? Jason peaked over the crate they were hiding behind, and yup, that was a Lamb. A really really bloody Lamb. It was a surprise it was still alive. And a scraggly looking dog was eating–

No. Not a dog.

He slowly squatted back down, “There's a Hyena…”

Dicks eyes grew comically wide, as a giggle pierced through the warehouse. The giggle evolved into a laugh and abruptly cut off as the Lamb cried out.

Then the laughter started up again. Somehow, it was worse than– The Hyena was– the Joker was– the Hyena was laughing.

Jason gripped his kris, “Let me kill it.”

“Jason you need to brea–”

“It’s just a stupid dog. It’s just a stupid dog. Let me kill it!”The Joker – The Hyena– was laughing, and laughing, and laughing . The Joker’s – The Hyena’s – Lips were stained red, red, red . Jason– The Lamb – was crying. Jason was crying, the Lamb was crying . The laughter got louder, and louder and louder , and–

No.

This wasn’t worth Jason’s time and nervous system.

He sat up and threw his kris right in between the Hyena’s eyes, and it stopped laughing. The Joker– no, the Hyena stopped Laughing.

Except the Hyena was slowly turning more humanoid. Its deep brown coat was being leeched of its color. It’s paws turning into hands that were white. Feet that were white. It’s snout staying stained red while it morphed into a crimson red smile that always seemed to haunt Jason.

Jason looked away from the body. He’s killed plenty of people before, he doesn’t mind killing the people who deserve it. Except that laugh. That fucking laugh. It never annoyed him before, but… it sounded so… uncanny .

The Lamb… wasn’t looking good at all. Its wool was stained red, chunks of its flesh were missing from where the Joker had eaten it alive. Its intestines were spilling out of its stomach. Lining the floor with half mangled internal organs–

The Lambs' features began to change.

Into–

Into a young Jason.

Who- who couldn’t have been older than 12. Who was curled up on himself trying to keep his insides that were already out, in, even though it was a losing battle

Jason squatted down to brush Jay’s hair back, “Little Lamb who made thee; Dost thou know who made thee; Gave thee life & bid thee feed; By the stream & o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight; Softest clothing wooly bright; Gave thee such a tender voice; Making all the vales rejoice! Little Lamb who made thee; Dost thou know who made thee;

“Little Lamb I'll tell thee, Little Lamb I'll tell thee! He is called by thy name; For he calls himself a Lamb: He is meek & he is mild; He became a little child: thou a child & I a lamb; We are called by his name. Little Lamb God bless thee. Little Lamb God bless thee.” Jason closed his eyes, “ May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. And please , just let him rest.”

#jason todd #batman #batfam #dc comics #red hood #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #the joker #alternate universe #dimensional travel

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talesofsonicasura · 11 months

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Glamorous Mishaps

Based on this post. I thought it be best to put my examples about Optimus Prime's mishap with glamour here since they're more story oriented. There will be three involving OCs of mine as I got other ideas for Self Insert. Now let's get started!

Transformers Prime: Oil and Sugar

Optimus Prime was a being of habit. It is quite rare to see him leave the base, much less rest. His current outing was one of those unique times as curiosity led the Autobot to explore Jasper. Optimus didn't mean to bump into the strange woman and knock the pastries from her arms. Nor find out why she smells like a rabbit.

First example is my rabbit yaoguai Tikki Cho, owner of the therapeutic Sweet Healing Bakery. A kindhearted motherly woman who prefers not to fight and settle issues peacefully. It doesn't mean Tikki will let people walk over her as the rabbit can suplex someone like Optimus in seconds.

She had recently settled into Jasper to open her bakery when our dear Prime enters the scene. Optimus decides to help Tikki set up shop mainly as an apology for his less than stellar greeting. The two become great friends with the Autobot Leader visiting in holoform whenever he can.

It's all fine and dandy until Megatron returns. A Vehicon attack forces Optimus Prime to reveal his true nature and take Tikki to base. Funnily enough, no one expected the human woman to become a big fluffy rabbit!

Optimus Prime: You aren't human?

Tikki Cho: I guess both of us had a secret, dear.

Here's what to expect!

Therapy for everyone! You can bet your ass Tikki is gonna get both bots and humans to healthily process trauma. If she happens to give sessions to some Decepticons, they consented.

Cybertronians underestimate the rabbit baker. It's all fun and games until the bunny kicks your bearings with boulder shattering strength. Or throw your metallic ass into a mountain as if a purse.

Bumbling mess Optimus Prime. Man clearly doesn't get enough positive affection and he has no idea how to properly react. He tends to blue screen as one hug from Tikki solidifies how touch starved he really is.

Sacred paperweight and eldritch Satan are afraid of a bakery owner. Breakdown quits cause "bunnies are better and fuck everyone except Knockdown". Deception Leader has misinterpreted jealousy fueled hate against Optimus' ward.

Transformers Animated: Don't Stop The Beat

It's very rare to find a shop in Detroit's mechanical central not run by a robot. Yet Koro Beats proudly stands booming with prosperous music selections. Although the shop owner would never expect her secret to become uncovered by a humble 'dropout'.

Here's our second OC guest, Kororo. A feisty and extremely blunt Deku Scrub who dislikes Hylia for taking away her god son Link. She left her world to set up shop in the TFAverse years before the events of the show began.

Kororo used to babysit Sari for Isaac and only the young girl knows about her true form. An involvement that leads to the Deku Scrub becoming entangled in the Autobots' lives during the search for Sari. She would honestly say it was like someone dumped three extra kids, an inexperienced young adult and a grumpy grandpa on her.

Kororo becomes Optimus' emotional support as it's clear he needs a friend around his age. Things turn out fine until Black Arachnia accidentally wreaks havoc with the All Spark. Kororo drops her human mask before Optimus and helps him save Sari.

Optimus Prime: Kororo, you're a small...tree person?

Kororo: Finally! Someone who doesn't mistake me for a dummy!

What to expect:

Autobots have a one Deku Scrub pep squad ready to throw hands. Sentinel Prime and Ultra Magnus are intimidated by this small tree woman as magic bubbles fired like bullets HURT. No one berates Optimus Prime with Kororo around.

Sari tries to parent trap music store owner with a giant robot. Both are so damn confused about the constant weird shenanigans happening. Ratchet puts a stop to it because one trap left him in an ugly yellow paint job.

"How To Accidentally Adopt Decepticons by a still confused Deku Scrub." Being nice to one Con having a bad day becomes a domino effect. Megatron and Starscream are so bewildered about the sudden decrease in numbers.

When your missing god son shows up at the door with your lost mask trapped deity friend. Link wonders how he suddenly got adopted into a family like this but doesn't mind. Optimus Prime somehow becomes a ward to a forgotten war god. More at 11.

Transformers Knightverse: Steel Magnolias

A shrine surrounded by roses. Optimus had been plague by the visage despite never encountering such a place. As he searches for clues about his scout's on this strange planet, Prime would stumble across a mysterious entity living secretly amongst the unaware humans.

The final OC for this glamour based mishaps, Rose Elysium or Rosa for short. An wandering emissary of chaos who travels dimensions searching for wonders. She only aids those that proves themselves worthy or gather her curiosity.

Optimus Prime stumbles across Rosa by sheer accident as he searches for Bumblebee. He constantly encounters the mysterious woman who helps him bit by bit whether it be his search or a companion to talk to. Only when the Autobot leader ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time does Rosa shed her mortal disguise to help him.

Optimus Prime: Are you an angel from human mythology?

Rosa: I may angelic but I am far from a simple angel.

What To Expect:

Million year old war veteran is claimed by an ancient eldritch entity. Those that earn Rosa's friendship or interest become her wards. No one should dare touch the claim of the divine as a fate worse than death awaits them.

Optimus Prime becomes accustom to seeing roses on a daily basis. A bed of flowers is more comfortable than the cold hard floor. Even a Prime needs his beauty sleep and Rosa is happy to provide it.

Optimus' helm is a perch for chaos emissaries and susceptible to hugs. Rosa is nice enough to cover his optics or audials when someone's about to do something stupid. He can finally be childish for once without breaking his 'Prime air'.

Tired dad of three kids now has a caretaker to help manage them. Mirage definitely started calling Rosa 'mom' and it quickly spreads. He also tries to ship her with Optimus like the gremlin he is. Bumblebee helps much to bossbot's future horror as they will enact the Parent Trap scheme. (Side story.)

And that's it! I thought about just doing only Transformers Prime for all three but decided not to since every iteration deserves love. As for ships, those will stay in side stories mainly because some readers rather read fics without romance being in the way.

Until next time folks, I'll see you later! Transform and Roll Out!

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mecdidikmen · 11 months

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non-essential notes

Okay so I was little, right? Around the age of 8. Which was after I acknowledged the shadow side of the humans. Before 7 I always were finding ways to be smiling about everything. Even though my parents were separate and all that jazz, then my elementary school teacher questioned my happiness and taught me that I should be sad instead. With a year of psychological conditioning, I was where she wanted me to be.

Next year she wasn’t allowed to be a teacher anywhere anymore. That’s besides the point.

I was 8 and there’s this very old theatre/film personality living in my apartment, he loved me and I heard there was this new telly series were gonna be shoot. And I asked them with a letter, to be involved for they were searching for a kid, for a role of a kid. It was going to be great, I’d help my mum/house at an early age, bringing bread to the house -for my father was too busy wasting millions with God knows whom at the time may he rest in peace (he then had pancreatitis and lost his fortune when I was 10, then I could properly see him which made me happy, a whole other story), I’d have a legitimate reason to skip school which gave me nothing but a depressed face, it was an awesome idea. Then they said they’d take me, we met at the dinner of this show before the shooting, met with the famous actors and the director and everything. Little did I know, for fatebound reasons I was never to be allowed in such a scenario, it makes perfect sense to me now, but it didn’t back then. I was on the newspapers with the cast and everything, then I remember the director saying I looked (and I quote), “too depressed for an 8 year old.”

And boy was he right... I used to choose these very old school grandfather glasses that made me look like a child who had 70 years on his back, that with the director’s decision -thank God, I was cast out from the cast. I was too heartbroken, for I would be going to school which I despised, and felt like the outcast I was going to be. Not being able to help my mom (which I fixed later), etc...

Thankfully I had a tree for a friend in that school of mine, and I had my best friend from the neighbourhood who had cancer was magically healing, these happened around the times I saw you in my dreams, this prophecy child I hint at some places -which hasn’t much to do with what I’m trying to tell here, before I could appreciated my several preordained paths, these things did hurt me at the time. But not for too long. For I have learned to turn inwards in a good way. At an early age, I was conditioning myself to look into the mysteries I was presented with since I could start remembering things (which is around the age of 1.5 to 2, I don’t remember before that).

Where was I leading with this... Ah, yes. What comes after is a story for another time, but let’s just say for the time being, what some didn’t recognize in me, were being recognized by others. And fortunately, by myself, too! (which is what mattered at the end of the day). My only wish is that I could hold on to those mysteries with all I have, and not derail with what life threw at me after at times. But very rarely, I was reminded, both by things I can’t quite describe, and by some very, very fortunate people with incredible sight...

It only makes sense to me now, but there’s a Mecdi somewhere in time, that wishes to talk to me, “where are you now, you should’ve invented time travel and gotten back to me by now!” he says. God I love that kid, but you see he needs to learn, I can only do so much for him. Kind of like what I live through now. Somethings I remember like it is happening now, and some, only when I definitely need to.

Perhaps to be continued...

#if it'll be essential...

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

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Someone Else (I'm Still Right Here)

also on ao3

minor warning for Geralt coming on to Jask when he doesn't know who he is, but nothing comes from it.

They've hardly been in town long enough for anything to go wrong and yet, Jaskier finds his thoughts interrupted by banging on the door of their room. If it was Geralt, he would simply let himself in even if he didn't have his hands free to open the door properly, so it must be important. Jaskier rises from the bed, setting his lute aside with a sigh. He detests being interrupted while he's working for anything less than an emergency - and judging by the fact that the knock hasn't come again, this is hardly an emergency.

He saunters to the door, pulling it open to find the face of the innkeeper's wife staring back at him anxiously.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "it's your Witcher, sir. Something's happened and no one is... well, they're all afraid to get too close to him. They called in the healer from the next town, but-"

Jaskier frowns. The contract was for a pair of drowners, not even a nest of the damn things. Geralt could have taken them out in his sleep - so what went so terribly wrong?

Jaskier lets himself be led downstairs, doing his best to mask worry with intrigue, but it isn't working. The innkeeper's wife leads him to the edge of the forest where her husband is waiting, a look of pained concern on his face. Jaskier's stomach drops as the man just points into the trees, and he hurries forward without delay. If the people in town won't help Geralt, he will certainly do his best.

When he finds him, Geralt is in a bad state. His eyes are still dark from the potions - probably why the locals wouldn't come near - and there's blood streaked down the side of his face.

Jaskier stays quiet. It's bad enough that Geralt can hear his pulse racing, he doesn't need to make his fear any more obvious to him. He kneels down on the soft ground, assessing the damage before moving him. He's learned from experience that one wrong move can make a wound worse rather than better.

"Okay," he says once he's satisfied. "I'm just gonna pull this off," he taps on Geralt's left pauldron, "make sure your head is the only thing you banged up." Jaskier frowns as he says it, but Geralt seems, as usual, unconcerned. He's much better behaved than usual though, which strikes Jaskier as being particularly odd.

He ignores it and pushes through, tearing an already ripped piece of Geralt's shirt to wipe away some of the blood. Geralt will be grouchy about it later, but if Jaskier replaces it, he can't be too angry. He does his best to clean Geralt's skin and he finds just the one injury - a hefty blow to the head. Not that it seems to be bothering Geralt any.

But when Jaskier cups his jaw, tipping his head to one side, Geralt hums. It catches him off guard and Jaskier jerks back to look at him.

"Your hands feel nice," Geralt breathes and leans into the touch. Okay. So maybe the head injury is more serious than it appears. The innkeeper's wife said a healer was coming, Jaskier will mention it to them when they arrive. Or maybe it's just the blood loss. Either way, the healer will be better prepared to deal with it than he is.

"What are you doing here?" Geralt asks.

"The innkeeper's wife came to collect me. Figured someone ought to come and collect you."

"No one else would even get near me."

"Yes, well, I'm not everyone else, am I?"

"Hmm. Guess not."

Jaskier comes around to look at him, straddling his thighs and Geralt leans forward, resting his head on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck.

"Yes yes," Jaskier hums, "I know you're tired, darling, but we have to get you up and back to town."

Geralt is reluctant, but he lets himself be hauled to his feet and doesn't even complain about Jaskier propping him up as they make their way back toward town. He's quiet, which is to be expected, but Jaskier is worried that he's keeping something from him, that he's worse off than he seems because Geralt seems quite happy to let himself be assisted - something he would regularly fight against.

As they make it back to the inn, Jaskier knows everyone is watching them and he scolds a couple of them for not offering to help when a man was injured. He takes Geralt up to their room and ducks out from under his arm, leaving him alone for a moment so he can get the fire lit and ready the bed for him. But before he can do either, he finds himself pressed up against the room door with Geralt's face mere inches from his own.

The dark veins and darker eyes are… sexier than they have any right to be and Jaskier swallows back a groan, pressing a gentle hand to Geralt's chest. The Witcher is still woozy and unsteady on his feet, but he resists being pressed back and Jaskier frowns at him.

"Mm, as much fun as this is, I doubt you'll think so highly of me in the morning, darling." Geralt smiles slyly and, for a split second, Jaskier worries that he's become Geralt's quarry, that the toxins running through Geralt's body are really as bad as he always claims they are and that he is, in fact, in real danger around him. But then Geralt leans in, bumping his nose against Jaskier's and any thoughts of fear dissipate immediately.

Instead, Jaskier ducks down and away, holding both arms out as Geralt follows him.

"Geralt," he asks, "what's gotten into you? Not that I mind, but-" he eyes him carefully and Geralt just grins at him again.

"Don't be coy with me, bard, this is what you brought me here for."

"Um. No? I brought you here to rest, to put you to bed not take you to bed, and find you something to eat. This is our room, Geralt, not my room. They only had one left and I didn't think you'd mind-"

"Our room?" Geralt interrupts and Jaskier nods. Worry creeps in and he looks closely at Geralt. His eyes are black still, though the veins are retreating and he seems brighter than usual, not so gloomy.

"Yes?"

"Why would we be sharing a room," Geralt huffs, "I've only just met you."

Jaskier gawks at him. It's not like Geralt to play games, that's Lambert's area of expertise - and this is stupid and obvious even for Lambert's tastes. But something is off about Geralt tonight. The worry turns to fear and Jaskier suddenly wonders if the man he's brought back is his Witcher at all.

He's never met a doppler, but he's heard Geralt tell stories about them. For the most part, they're harmless, but Jaskier suspects they can be paid or bribed like anyone else and the thought of a stranger here in the room with his things, with Geralt's things-

"I thought you wanted sex," maybe-Gealt says again, slightly confused but not at all dissuaded. Normally Jaskier would take it as a compliment that he was still so enthusiastic about fucking him, but this feels very, very wrong. And yet a part of him still considers it.

If it is a doppler, there's no harm really. He's consenting and Jaskier is more than happy to fuck a man with Geralt's face (he doesn't think too much about how that will affect him after it's fine). Right? But there's still a nagging feeling that this isn't a doppler. He'd know, he thinks, if he brought someone else home with him.

"Can you just-" he says, backing up toward the bed where his bag is sitting on the floor. Maybe-Geralt just watches him with confusion as he crouches down and pulls his dagger from his pack.

It's just a little thing, but it's pure silver, gifted to him by Geralt in case of emergency.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jaskier says, holding it out, "I just need you to touch this."

Maybe-Geralt gives him a questioning look but reaches out and takes the dagger from him, turning it over in his hand. Nothing happens.

"Hmm," he says, "nice weight, well made. A little decorative maybe-"

"Doesn't hurt?" Jaskier asks and maybe-Geralt, who is seeming more and more like just Geralt laughs.

"Not unless you stab someone with it."

Jaskier valiantly ignores the little smirk and shuts his eyes.

"Okay," he says, "start at the beginning, what do you remember?"

"I… woke up in the forest and then you showed up," he smiles at him and Jaskier is already preparing a refusal.

"Listen, Geralt, I am your friend and you would probably even argue that-"

"How come? You're very handsome and you've been helpful and kind-"

"But it's not like that, Geralt. It never has been. I offered once and you were… less than impressed with me." Geralt says nothing and Jaskier takes the opportunity to reign the conversation in. "Can I clean you up now? Something is obviously wrong and we have to get you to a doctor."

"They said a healer was coming."

"I was thinking of someone a little more professional," Jaskier says and Geralt gives him a look. "We have a mutual friend who may be able to help. But for now, you've got me and I'd like to take a look at that wound."

Geralt relents and Jaskier finally succeeds in getting him sat on the bed without Geralt trying to come on to him again. He pulls Geralt's hair back and ties it out of his face, it'll need to be washed later, but he's not going to try and explain how it's fine for him to wash his hair but not fuck him right now.

The wound itself it's so bad, a bit swollen, a bit bruised, but the actual gash is small and very manageable. He cleans it first with water and then with vodka and applies a good amount of salve. He doesn't know which herbs Geralt combines for a poultice, so he bypasses that for the time being; when he gets him to Shani if the wound isn't healed on its own, she'll be able to tend to it.

He finds linen wrap at the bottom of his bag and presses it to Geralt's forehead, gently wrapping it around and tying it at his temple.

"Should be good for now. I'll go down and have supper brought up. Do you want a bath?"

"No. Thank you."

"Alright. Just… stay here, I'll be back."

As soon as the bedroom door is shut, Jaskier closes his eyes, but he waits until he reaches the main floor to lean against the wall and sigh. He has no idea what he's going to do. He never thought he'd be sad to see the day Geralt tried to get him into bed, but it feels so wrong. He'd rather spend the rest of his life failing to impress Geralt than spend another five minutes with him like this.

He takes his time ordering food, half-hoping that Geralt will be asleep by the time he gets back to the room, but their supper is ready quickly and Jaskier reluctantly takes it back up to their room, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.

Geralt at least spares him conversation while they eat and then Jaskier sets the dishes aside and strips out of his clothes for bed, already dreading having to share a bed. He keeps his shorts on and waits until Geralt is already in bed before climbing in after him.

The fire is burning low already, so he's not worried about it, but he blows out the candle beside the bed and pulls the blankets up over himself. He faces out into the room, preferring not to see Geralt right now. It feels weird to want to avoid him and it makes his chest ache because this is Geralt, but it's not. He just wants his Geralt back.

He shuts his eyes and tries to sleep but Geralt is cuddly like this, shifting closer and pressing up against him. He gets an arm around Jaskier's waist and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut. It's everything he thinks about during the long nights sleeping around a campfire, but he can't let himself give into it. But it feels good because it's Geralt's arm around him, Geralt's chest pressed to his back, Geralt's breath against his neck. He very nearly whines because it's so damn unfair.

But then Geralt's lips press against the back of his neck and a little gasp escapes his lips, unintentionally. He ignores it the first time, but then he does it again and when he shifts closer, Jaskier can feel the length of his cock pressing against his ass. And fuck, that's hard to turn down, but Jaskier wrenches himself out of Geralt's arms.

"I can't," he whispers, unconvincing even to himself.

"You want it, though," Geralt hums, "I can smell it on you."

"Maybe," Jaskier confesses, "but not like this. Not when you don't know who I am. Not when fucking any other person in this place would be the same for you. I can't, Geralt. Go to sleep."

Jaskier hates how disappointed Geralt sounds when he pulls away, but he doesn't try again and Jaskier almost finds himself wishing he would. He tugs the blanket a little tighter around himself and pulls his knees to his chest, trying to force back the fear that he might not get his Geralt back.

In the morning, Geralt wakes first and Jaskier is relieved to find himself alone in bed, although he worries about where Geralt has gotten to. But when he drags himself out of bed, he finds Geralt packed and ready to go with a hearty breakfast waiting for him.

"What's all this?" Jaskier asks, "trying to get away from me all of a sudden?" It comes out more bitter than he intends and he winces at the tone of his own voice.

"You were so sad, last night," Geralt says quietly. "I don't know how to fix this, how to remember you, but I thought you'd want to get started early. I had breakfast brought up." He offers a soft smile, gesturing to the food and Jaskier's heart flip-flops.

"Oh. Thank you."

"I've eaten. Take your time and we can leave when you're finished."

"Right."

Geralt just sits on the bed while Jaskier eats his breakfast and contemplates the fact that this is still his Geralt, as much as it doesn't seem like it. His own things are still ready to go and he has no idea who to go to to collect the reward for the drowners, but it couldn't have been much anyway, so he's not worried about it. Geralt won't be pleased about it when he remembers himself, but there's only so much Jaskier knows how to handle and he wants to get Geralt to Shani as quickly as possible.

They head out mid-morning, and Geralt insists on letting Jaskier ride, which is… nice, in a concerning way. Roach is equally confused and concerned, but Jaskier does his best to comfort her. Thankfully, they aren't far from Oxenfurt or Jaskier isn't sure how he would cope.

Geralt walks alongside him, happy enough apparently to let Jaskier ride. He hums as they travel, a low wonderful sound that had Jaskier's heart fluttering, but it tears him in two because the song is his which means Geralt does remember something, but he's also so sad to see him this calm and relaxed knowing his goal is to take that away from him.

For now, he won't say anything, will just let Geralt enjoy the journey. When and if they find a way to get his memory back, he'll explain everything and give Geralt the chance to decline if he wishes. The selfish part of him hopes he doesn't.

They carry on in much the same way, but even when Geralt talks, Jaskier struggles to find it in himself to be too enthusiastic about anything. He's already in a difficult spot and he just wants to get through this, whatever the outcome. But it's obvious Geralt notices and that he's trying to distract him from it.

Jaskier tries to cheer up a little, if only for him, but he finds it difficult because he knows Geralt can tell how he's really feeling. But Jaskier appreciates the effort, either way.

"Remind me where we're going?" Geralt asks and Jaskier realizes he hasn't told him, Geralt just trusted him not to be leading him towards certain death.

"To Oxenfurt," he says, trying to sound cheerful, "it's one of my favourite places on the continent. I have a friend who practices medicine, she should be able to help."

"You don't have to pretend for me. I know you're sad, I know you miss him. Me. I wish I could give you your friend back."

Jaskier's heart clenches and he takes a steadying breath. "I'm fine," he says, "and I can't miss him, he's you and you're right here." He feels odd, like he's talking to a child, but Geralt just smiles at him, softly but like he doesn't believe him. Jaskier wouldn't either, he's never been good at lying to Geralt.

There's a heavy silence that falls after that and for some time they continue forward unspeaking. Jaskier twitches to feel the silence, to sing or talk to something just to keep from thinking that Geralt is upset with him. Then, abruptly, Geralt speaks.

"What kind of man am I?" Jaskier doesn't even have to think to answer that.

"You're kind," he says, "more than anyone gives you credit for. You always try to take the less violent route, even though your job is to kill monsters. You're generous and loving and you care so deeply for your friends and family."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat. Because he's not included in that group. He knows Geralt must care for him, but not in the way he loves Eskel or Lambert, or even in the way his friendship with Shani or Zoltan comes so easily to him. Next to him, Geralt is silent for a moment and then.

"Jaskier are you-" Jaskier shuts his eyes, dreading whatever is coming next. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he says, forcing cheeriness into his voice, "You're my best friend."

"But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"Geralt-"

"I know I don't really know you, but I… think I love you, too."

"Geralt, don't say that," Jaskier shuts his eyes tightly, "you can't know that."

"I feel it."

Jaskier wants to scream. It's so unfair to hear those words from Geralt's mouth and know they’re not true. He pushes Roach a little quicker forward, but Geralt stops him.

Roach comes to a full stop and Jaskier grows frowns at Geralt as he comes to stand next to him. Geralt raised a hand up, cupping his jaw and guiding him downward.

"I feel like you won't hear it from me again, so I love you." He's soft, almost breathless, and when he stretches up to kiss him, Jaskier doesn't stop him.

It's just soft, no urgency, no want for something more than just a kiss and Jaskier can't help but lean into it just a little. Because those are Geralt's hands on him, Geralt's mouth against his own, soft and slow.

But Geralt moans softly against him and Jaskier remembers himself with a start. He pulls back from the Witcher, almost unseating himself, but Geralt steadies him.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "I can't, it's not fair-"

"To me?" Geralt asks and there's sadness behind the humour in his voice.

"Yes."

After that, they spend the rest of the day in silence and Jaskier feels bad for Geralt - he can't imagine losing his memory and not knowing who he is - but he can't stand the fruitless hope. Because Geralt doesn't love him, he's made it known that they're not friends and how could Jaskier hope for more when he can't even attain friendship?

Then again, the man walking next to him now still is Geralt. He doesn't feel like Geralt and he doesn't act like Geralt, but he is. Jaskier isn't sure how people usually react when they lose their memories, so he doesn't have a basis to judge by, but it is still Geralt.

When they stop for the night, Geralt sleeps close enough to keep him warm but doesn't cuddle up like he did the night before and Jaskier hates himself for it. Maybe Geralt has a chance here at a new life, one where he can be happy and not weighed down by the memory of his childhood. And if he does, if he wants it, who is Jaskier to deny him that?

He's not sure he could be a part of it, though. Even thinking about him now, wishing Geralt would come a little closer, curl an arm around his middle, he feels like he's betraying his friend, betraying the old Geralt as the case may be.

Either way, he'll get Geralt to Oxenfurt so they can speak to Shani and see if there's anything that can be done. If there's not, he doesn't have to worry about making the decision to leave or stay, but if there is- If there is a chance Geralt can regain his memories, Jaskier has to let him make that choice alone and then make his own depending on what Geralt wants.

They reach Oxenfurt a few days later after what feels like a month-long journey and Jaskier is just glad to be somewhere warm where he can have his own room and not have to worry about wanting to be close. He leads them immediately to the inn and rents two separate rooms. It's fairly costly and he's reminded of the reason they needed to take the last contract, but he could be in Oxenfurt for a while depending on how this goes and he'll be able to pick up work easily enough.

Jaskier heads up to his room and makes sure Geralt gets settled, then he heads down and orders food and a bath up to Geralt's room before heading out to find Shani.

The first place he looks is the hospital, but the nurse working informs him that Shani has her own clinic now and she's located near the centre of town. Jaskier thanks her and doubles back, following the directions she'd given. Shani's clinic is tucked between two other buildings and Jaskier knocks before entering. There's no one inside but it's only a moment before Shani emerges from a back room, the neutral look on her face quickly growing into a smile. When Jaskier doesn't return the gesture she frowns.

"I take it this isn't a personal visit," she says and Jaskier can feel something inside him slip. He shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry. I- we need your help."

"Geralt?" she asks and the last bit of his self-control gives way and he chokes on a sob. "Hey," she says, "come sit down."

Shani guides him to a back room and sits him down on a plush soft, surprisingly nice for a medical clinic. She shuts and locks the door behind them and sits next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Geralt," he chokes, "hes'-" he takes a deep breath, swallowing back another sob. "Shani, he doesn't know who he is. He doesn't know who I am."

"Oh. What happened?"

"I wasn't there. I just- they came to get me because no one else would get near him. It was just supposed to be a drowner contract but he got hit in the head or something. I don't know what to do."

"Where is he now?"

"Back at the inn."

"Here?" she asks. Jaskier nods. "Why don't you take me to him, I'll take a look."

"I- I don't know if he'll want to be fixed? He came with me but Shani, he seems happy."

"Why don't we go and see him first. We'll figure out what's wrong before worrying too much, hm?" Jaskier agrees and Shani packs a bag and they head for the inn.

They find Geralt in his room, having eaten and bathed and he looks good. He's got his hair down around his shoulders and he's shirtless and Jaskier has to avert his eyes. He takes a seat in the corner and lets Shani introduce herself and asks to look him over. Jaskier stays quiet and watches cautiously as Geralt easily lets Shani look him over. Once she's finished with his body, she examines his head.

"Well," she says at last, "you obviously took a pretty hefty blow to your head, but the good news is it should be simple to reverse the memory loss."

"Good," Geralt says quickly. He spares a glance for Jaskier before turning back to Shani. "What do we have to do?"

"It's simple really, just a shock to your system should do it. I have a friend who can help."

As Shani goes into the details, Jaskier tunes out. He hears something about neurons, but he's more concerned about getting Geralt alone for a couple of minutes before he makes a decision. He loves Geralt, wants nothing more than for him to be happy, so he wants him to go into this knowing everything Jaskier can tell him.

"Can we have a moment Shani?" he asks and Geralt looks at him as Shani nods and ducks out of the room.

"You want to do it?" Jaskier asks and Geralt nods.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're happier like this," Jaskier whispers, "Geralt, I've never seen you this relaxed. In twenty years, you've always been miserable. I just- I want you to make an informed decision."

"You say you want me to be happy," Geralt says, "but since I told you I didn't know who you were you've been so sad. How is it fair for me to be happy like you say when you're still suffering." He tips Jaskier's chin up with two fingers and looks into his eyes. "What I said before, I wasn't lying. I don't know where all these feelings are coming from but I know you are so important to me."

He pulls up a smile and Jaskier knows how this is going to end. And he'll be happy to have his Geralt back, but know him like this? To know this Geralt wants him, even in some weird, imaginary way? He doesn't know how he'll be able to continue.

"Okay," Jaskier relents. "I just… wanted you to know what you were getting into."

"I'm sure it can't be all bad. I have you."

Jaskier's heart clenches, but he doesn't get another chance to speak because Shani enters the room. Thankfully, Geralt has stopped touching him, but he's still close and she gives Jaskier a look.

"I put out a call to my friend," she says, holding up a box that looks vaguely familiar. "Xenovox," she explains, "Marilla is a mage. She should be here in the morning."

It's late afternoon now, so that means spending another night at the inn and Jaskier is torn. On the one hand, he wants Geralt to be back to normal, but on the other- he's selfish and he wants Geralt like this. He wants so badly to have anything and- no. No, he can't.

Shani leaves them shortly after assuring Jaskier that it will be alright, that Geralt will be fine. He wishes these were better circumstances, that they had come to visit Shani instead of asking for her help, but she waves him off with a smile.

"Come and visit when things are back to normal," she says, "I'll see you in the morning."

Jaskier sees her off and then returns to the room to find Geralt sitting on the edge of the bed, contemplating. He's still shirtless and Jaskier finds it hard to look at him directly. He sits in the bed next to him, hands folded in his lap.

"Well," Geralt says, "we have the night. Things will be different after I get my memory back, right?" He turns, reaching out to cup Jaskier's cheek. "Be with me tonight," he breathes, "just for tonight, let me take care of you while I have the chance."

Jaskier huffs a humourless laugh. "That's the problem, you always have the chance, but you never want to take it."

"Then let me now," he hums and his hand falls to Jaskier's thigh.

And it's so tempting. Because Geralt is right here offering everything he's ever wanted, if only for a night. But this is not the Geralt he fell in love with. This is not truly his Geralt's consent. When Jaskier looks up, it's obvious that Geralt knows his answer before he even speaks.

"I'm an idiot," he says softly, "to not jump at the chance to be with you. If I don't remember tomorrow, I want you to know you're important to me." Jaskier nods weakly, but he can't find the words. "Maybe we should turn in early? We have a long day tomorrow, I think."

Jaskier nods and he lets Geralt pull him down to the bed and tonight, he lets himself be held, curls into Geralt's hold and presses his nose into his neck. He doesn't let himself think, just buries himself in Geralt's scent, so warm and familiar and shuts off his mind.

Jaskier awakes to a knock on the door and realizes he's still in his clothes from yesterday. Geralt answers the door to Shani and Marilla, and Jaskier is only just climbing out of bed when they come into the room. He gets a look from Shani, but if she's feeling any particular kind of way about finding him in Geralt's bed, she doesn't say anything.

The actual process doesn't take any time at all. Marilla comes in and does something to Geralt, what she does is unclear but he falls unconscious and Jaskier panics at first, but Shani holds him back.

"Sorry," she says, "I should have warned you."

Jaskier does his best to make Geralt comfortable in the bed and he leaves with the two women to let him sleep. He thanks Marilla desperately and asks her to stay until he wakes, but she tells him she has other business to attend to and after dipping down to kiss Shani briefly, she disappears down the stairs.

"Friend, huh?" Jaskier asks and Shani smiles at him.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Actually, can I ask you about something?"

"Of course. Why don't we get a drink, he could be out for a couple of hours."

They head down to the common area and Shani orders them a pair of drinks while Jaskier finds a table out of the way. He's never understood why Geralt likes corner tables, but right now he gets it. He doesn't want anyone to talk to him and he just wants to be able to sit and drink with Shani.

When she returns, she slides his drink across to him and slips into her seat.

"What did you want to ask about?"

"Uh," Jaskier starts, turning his mug in his hands, "when I first took Geralt back to our room, just after he was hurt. He tried to kiss me. He… thought I was bringing him back there to fuck him."

"Oh."

"You don't sound surprised."

"I'm not, really. I'm surprised he acted on it, but-"

"What does that mean?"

"Geralt doesn't have any brain damage," Shani explains, "something just… got knocked loose, so to speak. He was still him, Jaskier. His thoughts, his feelings? That was all him, Jask."

"You're telling me-" abruptly, the memory of Geralt telling him he loved him comes back to him and his mouth goes dry. "You're telling me that was just him?"

"Mmhm. Without all the baggage and self-loathing."

"I don't- he can't- if he wanted me that way, I would know."

"Would you?" Shani asks, "because I think you would be the last person to know. Wait till he wakes up, talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Shani, for this and for everything."

"Happy to help."

They finish their drinks and Shani heads home. Jaskier thanks her again and promises to visit when things are better and waits until she's gone before heading back up to Geralt's room.

The first thing Geralt knows when he wakes up, is a pain in his head. He blinks awake to find himself in a bed in a nondescript inn. A better look around finds Jaskier asleep in a chair next to him, but he stirs as Geralt sits up and then he's scrambling to pass Geralt a mug of water.

He feels woozy, but Jaskier's presence soothes him; he knows from experience that Jaskier would never let anything happen to him and is willing to risk his own health and safety to assure it. There's no one else he'd rather see upon waking. But he doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is taking a hit and stumbling away from the scene.

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks gently. He looks up and the first thing he notices when he looks at Jaskier is how sad he is. The emotion wafts off of him, but Geralt doesn't need his heightened sense of smell to be able to tell.

"What's wrong?" he mumbles, his voice thick.

"Tell me what you remember. From the start."

Geralt thinks back, going through the events of the hunt, none of which are very interesting until he was thrown into a tree. Water hag, he remembers, chucked mud and blinded him. Then he's stumbling away, all three monsters dead and then- fuck.

His gaze snaps up to Jaskier's face, looking for any sign of recognition, but he remains eerily calm, even as Geralt recollects kissing him, pressing him up against a wall and- fuck, what was he thinking? The more he thinks about it, the more comes back to him, but in bits and pieces.

Kissing him, touching him, pressing up against him in bed. The memories are all foggy, scattered, but they feel too real to have been a dream. But Jaskier shows no signs of being assaulted by him.

"I'm-" he starts, but sorry doesn't feel like it's enough. Jaskier is open with his affections, but he wouldn't be okay with that.

Geralt tries to push himself up, to get out of bed and away from Jaskier because he can't stand the thought of doing something like that. He can't remember why he did, but the more he thinks about it, the more real it feels.

"Geralt," Jaskier says firmly, "I'm not mad. But I think we need to talk if you're up for it."

He doesn't want to talk to Jaskier. He would rather find out from someone else, he can't bear to hear the words from Jaskier. And he knows Shani was there. Shani and another woman who he didn't recognize.

"Where's Shani?" he asks.

"She's gone home, darling. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

Geralt looks up at him and he feels hopeless. Jaskier is exhausted, he can see the bags under his eyes, the dark circles. And he doesn't seem any less sad than he did initially. It doesn't take much to realize what happened.

"I'm sorry," Geralt mumbles, "about what I did- when I kissed you, I-"

Jaskier stops, already halfway toward the door and sighs deeply, stopping in his tracks before turning around.

"Okay," he says, "we're talking about this now, then." He comes back and seats himself on the end of the bed, facing him. "Tell me exactly what you remember, Geralt."

"I remember taking the contract, fighting off the drowners - and a water hag - got mud in my eyes, stumbled and something hit me, threw me into a tree. Probably one of the drowners pushed me. I took them out, started back toward town but I must have passed out, the next thing I remember is-"

"Me."

"Yeah. You took me back to our room, I thought you were- I thought you wanted sex."

"I know, you were fairly adamant about that."

"Fuck. Jaskier I'm sorry-"

"You didn't know who I was. If a handsome stranger took me back to his room, I'd think the same. When you didn't know who I was I was… terrified. I didn't know if I'd get you back." They're both silent for a moment and then Jaskier prompts him to continue.

"I remember that. I remember talking to you," he lowers his eyes, "I told you I loved you, I don't know why." Immediately Jaskier's sadness intensifies and he catches it in the twitch of his lip, the way he glances away.

"You asked if I was in love with you," Jaskier explains, "and told me you loved me. What else do you remember?"

"I remember asking you to- suggesting we- I propositioned you. And I remember being in bed- Jaskier, did we-?" He can't imagine anything worse than sleeping with Jaskier while he's not himself, than having the chance to be with him and not truly being present in the moment.

Because he certainly won't have another chance, especially not now that he's gone and muddled things up.

"No," Jaskier confirms and for the first time a small smile tugs at his lips, "not that you didn't try. But It didn't feel right. I knew when you had your memories back, you'd hate me for it and I couldn't-"

"I could never hate you," Geralt interrupts, "if anything I'd hate myself for pushing you into it."

"No," Jaskier says, shaking his head, "Geralt you don't understand. I wanted to. I wanted so badly to just say yes last night when you asked me. I tried to work it around in some way that you wouldn't hate me for taking advantage, but every time I just feel terrible to even think about it. The reason I didn't sleep with you is because I couldn't bear the thought of fucking you when it wasn't really you. Because I didn't want him, even if he was you. I wanted- I want this you."

"You do," Geralt snorts, "someone who throws himself at his friend because he doesn't remember, someone who tells him he loves him unprompted-"

"Do you think," Jaskier suggests, and it's clear by the look on his face that he's considering his words very carefully. "That maybe what you said to me and what you did- what you offered," he corrects quickly, "was because you do have feelings for me?" His voice shakes just faintly and Geralt can smell the anxiousness coming off of him.

It's cloying, overwhelming and it mingles with the scent of sadness and fear and just the faintest hint of something hopeful.

"It's just that Shani said there was nothing wrong with your mind, it was still you in there when you asked, when you said that." Jaskier looks up at him and Geralt feels years of emotion welling up inside him and he doesn't know how to hold it back any longer, not what Jaskier is asking him outright.

"Jaskier, I-" he takes a deep breath, focuses on a mark on the blanket between them. "I don't remember everything. But I did mean what I said. I do… I love you," he whispers, "I didn't want you to think less of me or," he glances up and Jaskier's eyes are shiny like he's trying not to cry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

"I'm not sad," Jaskier says, "Geralt, I have been following you around for half my life, caring for you, singing about you and you didn't think for maybe a moment that I could love you back?"

"You-" Geralt stumbles over his words as Jaskier's confession sinks in. "You sleep with everyone. Everyone but-"

"You don't even call me friend, Geralt. Why would I try and take you to bed with me thinking you don't care enough to call me your friend?"

"Oh."

"Oh? You didn't consider that?"

"You're not my friend," Geralt says, by way of explanation, "but you're not a lover, either. You're not a brother. Not a comrade. I don't know what you are."

"Oh."

"But you could be… a lover?" the word feels strangely heavy in his mouth and he nearly regrets saying it at all until he sees the way Jaskier's eyes light up. A smile tugs at Geralt's lips and he leans forward, reaching out to take Jaskier's hand, tentatively turning it over.

"Jaskier," he whispers, "can I kiss you?" A wide grin spreads across his face and Jaskier tips forward toward him.

"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."

#geraskier #memory loss #200 fic celebration #no.1 #the witcher #rex writes

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nev3rfound · 3 years

Text

the other widow : b.b

natasha may have left what she once knew behind when she became an avenger, but there is still so much more to learn about her sister who escaped the red room with the help of a certain metal armed soldier. (3k)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

requested: yes! this has been a long awaited idea from @ateliefloresdaprimavera i hope you like it love :) warnings: mentions of violence, blood, nightmares. obviously, I haven't seen the black widow movie so this is just my interpretation!

In another life, things might've been different for you. Perhaps, you could have left your home country and followed many your age in their quest to find a better life in America or Europe. You might have met someone, a kind man who took care of you, who loved you deeply.

That would have been nice, in another lifetime. But it wasn't reality, at least, not yours.

Your reality was living in a world plagued by nightmares, of what was done to you for many years. It hurt to blink as you saw yourself, lying back on that table as Doctors crowded around you, muttering about the success of their work.

"No, she's still out there," Your ears perk up at the conversation behind you. The kitchen window remains open whilst you sit outside, tugging at the rose petals from the rose bush. It always was too pretty. Pretty things aren't designed to last for long.

Melina sighs heavily into her phone, glancing away from the window. "What do you expect me to do? She doesn't go anywhere." Disappointment laces her tone combined with the tiredness of her mind. She's been trying for months to encourage you to go out, further than the land you live on.

Faintly you can hear the other end of the conversation, Melina always had a habit of keeping her phone on speaker. "I might visit soon." That is all you managed to hear, but it was enough for you to drop the remainder of the rose and crush the petals beneath your feet.

"Oh good, you're awake." A pair of gloves snap against his wrists, causing you to flinch in your seat. "Now, Y/n, there's no point trying to struggle, you know what happened last time." Doctor Yeznik reminds you with a twisted smile, waiting for you to nod.

"They deserved it." You dare to mutter, only to hear Yeznik chuckle before he turns back to face you, gripping your face in his hand.

"And you deserve this." He seethes, stabbing a needle into your arm before you can fight back. "No one is coming to save you, Y/n, never forget that." Yeznik whispers, watching as your eyes begin to droop until you're unable to fight the urge to sleep.

Rising to your feet, you can feel a smile ghost your lips at the sight of a Blue Tit perching on the edge of the birdbath. One of his wings isn't quite right, and as you approach it, it remains perfectly still.

Holding your hands out, you ignore the scars from the restraints still marking your wrists and forearms. "I won't hurt you," You tell the bird as it dips its head into the water, shaking the excess off. "I can help you, little one." You add quietly, only to watch the bird retreat and fly away uneasily.

"There's always next time." Melina calls out from the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Yeah," You nod, lowering your arms and bury your hands into your pockets. "if it makes it through the night without being able to fly far."

Entering the kitchen, you pass Alexei in silence, despite him turning his head to speak up.

Once out of sight, Alexei averts his attention to Melina who simply shakes her head. "She's still working on recovering." Melina sighs, taking a seat opposite the broad man. "The, the red room got worse after Natasha escaped."

"You don't have to explain," Alexei waves her off, aware of you standing at the top of the stairs, listening in due to the creak of the floorboards. "it'll take time."

"I just don't know if that's something we have." Melina comments, passing a burner phone to Alexei with a text message on display.

Shifting in his seat, Alexei looks back at Melina before crushing the phone in his grasp. "We'll do what we can." He mutters before silence ensues and the pressure from the floorboard beneath your feet eases as you return to your needed solitude.

Opening your eyes, you knew something was off, something was different within the house.

Underneath your pillow, you grab ahold of your gun before traipsing out from your room which remains in permanent darkness.

As you exit your bedroom, light tries to seep through the gap in the door but you quietly close it, keeping the darkness concealed from the light.

Avoiding any creaking floorboards, you keep your gun aimed at all times before the faint sound of laughter catches your attention from downstairs. It was a rarity to hear anything joyous in the household, mostly arguments occurred or stories of fights Alexei shares that you can recite from memory if you were ever asked.

But this was different, something lighthearted shared for a brief moment before you turn the corner and hover by the kitchen doorway seeing all the seats taken at the table, Melina's now taken by a redhead.

"This is a surprise." You speak up, placing your gun on the counter, now catching everyone's attention.

Smiling to Yelena, Natasha quickly turns around in her chair, leaning her arm over the back. "Hey sis," She greets you, her accent replaced by an American version. "long time no see, huh?"

Everyone in the room remains still, waiting for you to make the first move like a scared animal. You'll either scarper or approach with caution, and even at that moment, you're unsure which route you'll take.

"What brings you back here?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you remain standing, despite Alexei rising to his feet and offering you his chair.

"There's some unfinished business I have to deal with." Natasha states, and Yelena motions for you to come closer whilst Natasha has her back turned.

"And we're being dragged into it somehow?" You're quick to comment, remembering the last time it happened which resulted in your previous home being burnt to the ground and Natasha vanishing into thin air once more.

Rising to her feet, Natasha walks over to the doorway leading into the garden. She doesn't wait for you to follow, but she knows eventually you will.

"She means well, Y/n." Yelena tells you whilst playing with a knife, jabbing it against the table despite Melina swatting it away.

Humming to yourself, you force your feet forward until you're outside, listening to the peaceful presence of nature.

Whilst you're in your own world temporarily, Natasha can't help but take the opportunity to observe you, notice the changes since she last saw you. Melina explained the nightmares you've been having of late, how you wake up clawing at your own skin until it bleeds and you clutching onto a pillow, tearing into the cotton with ease as you sob.

You look visibly drained, that much Natasha can tell. She knew she should've brought you with her, away to America the last time she was here, but there wasn't enough time. She watched you from afar as the building fell into itself, devoured by the flames and you looking around for your sister, nowhere to be seen.

"There's a little blue tit who visits daily now," You begin to explain, opening your eyes as they remain trained on the empty birdbath. "he's got a damaged wing, can't fly very far but he always visits." Moving closer to the bath, you can see the reflection of other birds flying above in groups. One or two flies further back from the others, flapping their wings in desperation to not be left behind; something you know all too well.

As your hands rest on the birdbath, Natasha can see the scars across your skin clearly.

"Y/n, I never got a chance to apologise last time I was here," Natasha begins, stepping closer toward you, yet you seem oblivious to her words.

"And I hope at some point he'll let me help him, mend him back to his best so he can fly away." Your lips rise for a second at the thought before returning to a straight line, now allowing yourself to process Natasha's statement. "You don't need to apologise, Nat."

"But I do, Y/n." Natasha urges as she resists reaching out for your hand, knowing no one touches you anymore unless they dare risk a broken bone or two. "I should've found you in there and taken you with me. You were still a child, I,"

"I don't blame you, sister." Turning to face her, you force yourself to smile, an attempt to reassure her as she frowns deeply. "The only person I blame for everything is Yeznik." You can't help but shudder, hearing his voice in the back of your mind, one of the many who taunts you in your sleep.

"That's why I'm here." Natasha states.

You can't stop the scoff from leaving your lips. "You can't be serious, Natasha." Yet, you watch your sister nod immediately. "Do you want to get yourself killed?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She retorts, catching you off guard. "Don't think I don't know about the truth behind your escape, Y/n."

"What are you talking about?" You question, knowing better than to confess to your sister of all people. "I escaped that hell hole on my own. Killed several guards in the process and escaped with nine bullet wounds." You remind her, lifting your shirt to show the bullet wound scars that never properly healed.

"But you didn't escape from the Red Room. You escaped during a mission." She explains, watching your expression falter for half a second, but it was enough for her to know you're lying.

Shaking your head, you back away toward the small hutch hidden beneath an oak tree that currently houses three rabbits.

"That is preposterous, even for me, Natasha." You chuckle, opening the hutch and reach for the number one who happily hops out and stands beside you.

Looking away from you, Natasha can see the three others watching closely from the kitchen window. She can see Yelena mouthing something, but rolls her eyes when Natasha shakes her head.

"The Winter Soldier." Yelena marches over, causing you to tense up and the rabbit hops back into the hutch as you gently lock it once more. "Remember him, Y/n?"

"His name is Bucky." You mutter under your breath before slowly standing up. "And don't you dare talk about him." You spit at Yelena who spares Natasha a look.

"You helped each other escape, didn't you?" Natasha pushes her question, and this time to her surprise you don't object.

"Follow me," You sigh, walking around the garden to a set of stairs, leading you to the rooftop filled with trees and plants.

Admiring the greenery, Natasha hesitantly follows behind you.

"You going to stand there all day or sit down?" Raising a brow to Natasha, she breathes out a laugh and sits down on one of the seats dotted around that isn't taken by a plant.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Natasha leans forward, resting her forearms on her thighs and you mirror her action.

"Yes." You mutter. "But I can't remember everything it, part of it I blocked out." You admit, feeling your leg already beginning to shake beneath you.

"You will be accompanied this time, Y/n." Your tutor, Ms Ivanov tugs on your ponytail forcefully whilst you remain seated.

"I don't need company." Tugging your head forward, her fingers fall through the ends of your hair and she hums in response. "I'm capable of this myself."

Ms Ivanov chuckles under her breath before standing in front of your desk, resting her hands on the sides as her eyes fixate on yours. "That might be so, but not this time." Pushing her hands from your desk, Ivanov nods to the closed door.

Within seconds someone is forced through the metal frame with a bag covering their face. They're of a large build, but your eyes widen at the sight of metal making up their left arm.

"Is it?" Your question leaves your lips before you've fully thought about what this means, and Ivanov smirks.

Stepping toward the concealed figure, she tugs the sheet from their face, revealing a mass of brown hair.

He lifts his head up and stares at you immediately those pensive blue eyes you've heard whispers of. He fights against his restraints as two guards stand behind him with loaded guns.

"There will be plenty of time for that, soldat." Ivanov laughs, patting his metal arm. "Now, Y/n. It's time to go."

"I don't know what happened on that mission. But when I woke up, I, I was free." Unable to look at your sister, your focus lies on the breeze weaving through the branches of the trees.

Natasha leans forward, wishing she could tell you everything she knew. "You saved each other, Y/n." She speaks up, remembering the last time she saw him, a broken shell of the man he once was, his demeanour mirroring yours.

"I guess," You shrug. "but after everything, I, I have no idea what happened to him. I, I don't even know if he's still," Pursing your lips, the word never leaves as you curl your arms toward your stomach.

Looking toward the others, Natasha sighs at their disapproving glares. She knows they mean well, that they are practically family. But you're the only true blood family Natasha has left, and she can't lie to you anymore, not this time.

Standing in Wakanda, Bucky smiled truly for the first time in years. He was no longer plagued by the fear of becoming the Winter Soldier. He was finally free of it all.

But he still had a long way to go, to make amends for those he hurt, and amongst everyone, there was you. His Black Widow, Y/n.

"Hey, Barnes." Natasha stands beside him, looking out at the vast farmland that surrounds them. She can't help but think how much you would love to be somewhere like this, somewhere that is peaceful, tranquil.

"Hello, Natasha." Bucky turns to face the redhead, having not spoken to her since he was under Zemo's control. "I erm, I would like to apologise for everything I did, and for hurting you all those years ago." Bucky explains, and Natasha patiently listens, allowing him to get his full speech out. "And for what they made me do in," Furrowing his brows together, Natasha clears her throat.

"We don't have to talk about that." She tells him as she reaches into her pocket, taking out a folded piece of paper, well worn. "I wanted to ask you something before anyone knows where I am."

"Okay?" Bucky answers uneasily, tugging on the cloth that covers the remainder of his left shoulder.

Unfolding the piece of paper, Bucky can see a glimpse of a black and white photo.

"Here," Natasha holds the photograph out, face down to Bucky who hesitantly accepts. She watches intently as he turns the photograph over and can't help but smile as his breath hitches in his throat.

"Y/n." Bucky looks up to Natasha who simply nods.

"I was wondering if you'd remember her." Natasha crosses her arms over her chest, trying to hide the smirk forming on her face and amusement in her tone.

A playful scoff leaves Bucky's lips. "How could I forget her?" He thinks aloud. "I could never forget the person who helped me escape, who, who," 'Helped me realise I'm still human despite everything I've done.' Bucky thinks to himself, remembering the night before he left you as you lay in his arms whilst he listened to your soft reassurances. "Do you know where she is?" He tries to hide the hope in his voice, but it's useless.

"Yes." Natasha answers. "Y/n Romanoff." She states, and Bucky stares blankly at Natasha for a moment, before a light laugh leaves his lips.

"I shoulda known." He sighs dramatically. "Makes a lot of sense now." Bucky mutters, but Natasha doesn't pry. "Is, is she with you?" He glances past her, toward the jet she came on, but Natasha shakes her head.

"She's safe, in Russia." Natasha explains as she walks alongside Bucky toward the lake. "But she prefers the company of animals over people these days."

"Makes two of us then." Bucky comments. "I, I promised I'd find her." Allowing his mind to drift as the lake ripples, Bucky pictures your sleeping form in his arms minutes before he left you. He whispered you a promise, one he has yet to fulfil.

"Then let me help you keep that promise." Natasha places her hand on his arm gently, and Bucky snaps out from his thoughts. "I know you're still healing, and she is too. But I'll come back, Barnes."

Bucky nods. "Thank you, Natasha."

"James Barnes," Natasha slowly interrupts your prolonged silence. "is still alive, he, he's healing, but he remembers you, Y/n."

You reach out and take Natasha's hand in yours. For a moment, you simply stare, void of emotion before tightening your grip, beginning to crush her fingers whilst Natasha remains stoic.

"Don't lie to me, Nat." You tell her, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

"I'm not lying, Y/n." She responds, ignoring the pain you're inflicting before your grip begins to ease, but she doesn't pull away immediately. "He made you a promise, didn't he?"

"I, I don't know." You admit sadly, looking down at your lap, faintly hearing his voice in the back of your mind fighting through the horrid memories engrained there from the red room.

"He did, Y/n." Natasha asserts herself. "Would you like to see him?"

"I think so." You answer honestly as you uncurl your body and sit upright. "But only once this is over. Once Yeznik is gone. I don't want to be haunted anymore, Nat."

This time, Natasha extends her hand, taking yours in hers delicately.

"Okay, sis." She breathes out, helping you to your feet. "Let's get started."

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

Note

Second request, the boys are out hunting and see a odd young woman stumbling along the beach. They watch as she starts talking to this boy, soon, his eyes get glossy and he follows her as they disappear beneath the water, this pattern repeats for a week. Finally, they decide to go and properly get to know her... this girl from the water turns out to be more than they bargained for.

Bait and Catch (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Mermaid Reader)

Warnings: blood/gore/implied violence, near death experiences, pining over someone you definitely shouldn't pine over

Word Count: 1.8k

When the boys saw what was happening on their beach, they didn't know what to do. They hung in the air like clothes left up to dry, watching the scene play out in front of them. They'd been hunting, hunting the exact boy that you had approached. They figured he'd lead them towards some beach party, given his type, but when he stopped to help you as you stumbled along the beach they paused. Waited.

The wind whistled in their ears and the waves crashed below them. They couldn't make out any of the words that were spoken, but they saw as stillness went up the boys spine. Like someone had strapped a ruler to his back.

They watched as you lead him to the water, and they couldn't see what happened when both of you disappeared under it's depths. The only thing they could see was the red bubbling to the surface.

Now, this was an issue. They watched you for a week, and every night it was the same. They'd passed ideas back and forth. Paul suggested,

"Ghost, maybe?" But David doubted it. You could be. You only came out at certain times and you certainly lead people to their dooms. Yet, none of them had ever heard of a ghost being tied to a beach. You seemed odd, supernatural, but solid. Not quite spectral, even if they thought you had a sort of glow or glimmer to you. It had been a few days before any of them dared to utter the word.

"Mermaid." Dwayne finally said as they watched you guide another helpless victim towards the water. It wasn't a question, and none of the boys tried to argue with him. Not even David.

Mermaids were a problem, even for vampires. They didn't understand the concept of territory, and not even a vampire was immune to their glamor. To their song. And they didn't understand the concept of cleaning up after themselves either.

David and the others had to pick up what they could when it washed on the beach, but it was difficult when they didn't know where you lurked beneath. When he saw news of a hand being found on the shore, David knew this wasn't an issue they could skirt around any longer. You were sloppy, and the boys had managed a perfect balance in their little town. They killed enough to keep the statistic high enough that the public wouldn't be surprised when someone went missing, but they never left anything for them to find. The point was missing, not dead. And bodies meant dead. Dead drew hunters.

David had thrown the newspaper into the trash, and flicked his cigarette in there along with it. They needed to solve this problem, and they needed to do it tonight.

They knew when you hunted, and they knew where. And, just like always, Paul would be their bait. If he was nervous, he didn't show it. In fact, he spent most of the time before asking if his hair looked alright, before Marko finally hit him and told him,

"Shut up, man. This is serious." He said, but Paul scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I am being serious. Mermaids are supposed to be total babes, man. And I wanna see if she's friendly." The way the wolfish grin spread over his face, the boys knew exactly what he intended by that. Dwayne rolled his eyes and Marko gave him another punch in the shoulder, but David only nodded his head towards the beach. It was time.

The boys had escaped back up towards the skies, hiding in the dark cover of the sky and watching the platinum blonde as he attempted to look natural as he walked across the dunes. Whether his performance was convincing or not, you climbed out of the salty sea and approached. You took the bait.

The boys watched as he chatted you up in his usual fashion. The pair of you were walking along the beach, and Dwayne frowned at how close he was letting you take him towards the water. The pair of you were only less than a foot away from where the tide touched. David sunk down closer to see if he could eavesdrop on your conversation, wondering where Paul had taken this. He was just out of hearing range when you sung three notes. That was all it took, and they watched as the blonde straightened. How his lazy, slumped shoulders were gone in a second, how the smile slipped off his face. How his eyes seemed even more hazed than usual. In that second, the boys fell out of the sky like puppets who had their strings cut.

You were quick, just like usual, and the boys watched as Paul started to take off his shoes. He was going to get in the water, and Marko and David grabbed him just before he could get the first shoe off. To their surprise, he thrashed the second their hands tried to stop him.

***

You'd gasped, surprised by the sight, and, out of instinct, you shrank back into the water. You were up to your knees, watching carefully as the boys fought to keep the blonde away from certain doom. You watched as the boys faces changed and distorted, how the boy you'd planned on eatings face did the same.

Sharp lines, yellow eyes, large fangs. Vampires. You had half a mind to dive under the second you put it together, but none of them lunged towards you. If anything, they seemed preoccupied with their friend. The farthest extent they'd gone to threatening you was the hiss the bleach blonde sent towards you, but he was quick to try to brace the blondes shoulders and hold him back. You weren't surprised by his persistence, and you had to dodge his shoe when he attempted to kick one of the boys. The smallest of the boys exclaimed,

"Jesus, Paul!" And Paul, the one you'd planned on eating, didn't intend on calming or to go down quietly.

"Let me- Let me go! She needs me! I need to be with her! I need to- I want to go-" He yelled, and one of his friends attempted to cover his mouth. In an instant, the smell of blood filled the air and the brunette retreated as he clutched his hand.

"Fuck! You-" But he cut himself off, shaking his hand as it healed right in front of you. Paul shook the smallest of the blondes off him, but the platinum grabbed him before he could slip past. He held him from behind, holding his arms behind him as the blonde toed the edge of the water. The others launched forward, helping the bleached blonde drag him away from the waters edge.

"Paul, calm down!" The blonde shouted, and even you could hear the suggestion behind it. But it was no use. The only one that could stop a mermaids call was the mermaid in question, and you saw as ocean blue eyes flicked to you. He seemed to know this as well, and, while it seemed to pain him, he didn't hesitate to ask, "Help us!" And you let the struggle go on for another moment as you thought about it. You looked at the four of them, weighing your options. You could sing again and kill them all. Or you could let him go, and let them do whatever they obviously planned on doing that night. But, as you looked at each of their earnest faces, your eyes fell on the blonde you'd hypnotized. He had tears in his eyes now, and his voice was weak as he begged.

"Let me go, let me go, let me go," It was an insistent mantra, and you didn't know who he was saying it to anymore. He was twisting in their hold, but their grip looked painful. Even for a creature of the night. For the first time in a long time, you felt your heart ache. You felt a bead of sympathy. And, it only took a small hum for the spell to be broken.

You watched as the boys fell back into a pile on the sand from the sudden give of their fellow vampire, and, before they could regroup, you dove into the water.

***

The boys laid in the sand, completely shell shocked. All of Paul and part of Marko had fallen onto David, with one of Paul's legs sprawled on the blonde. They all sat for a moment, processing what had happened and their own stupidity before David was pushing the lanky, blonde vampire off of him.

"Get the fuck off of me." He snapped, and Paul still seemed dazed as he was pushed into Marko instead. Marko didn't seem to care, and simply panted as he laid flat against the sand. David pushed himself up to stand, wiping the sand off of him as his eyes searched the murky, dark waters for any of sign of you. But you were gone. As if you'd never been there at all. Dwayne pushed himself up onto one arm, before leaning across to deliver a heavy punch to Paul's shoulder. That seemed to fully snap him out of it, and he whined an,

"Ow," As he rubbed his shoulder. "What the fuck, man?" He asked, and Dwayne sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees as he said,

"That's for nearly getting yourself killed. And for biting me. Next time, think with your head. Not your dick." He said, shaking his own head as he looked away and examined where the blonde had bit him. The wound was gone, but the pain was fresh in his mind. He held his own hand, pressing where the bite had been.

"Dumbass." Marko said as he reached up to ruffle the taller blondes hair. Paul shifted, letting the back of his head rest on his chest. Marko didn't say a word after that. He was just relieved that they'd gotten him in time, and he was almost impressed with how much of a fight he'd put up.

"She's gone. We should head back in case she changes her mind." David said, but none of the boys had moved by the time he turned around. They were still catching their breath, even if they didn't need to. Finally, after a moment, Paul tapped his fingers against his chest and asked,

"...you think she liked me?" And the boys didn't know if it was the lingering effects of her song, or if Paul was just a dumbass with a death wish. Maybe both. Either way, David didn't grace him with a response, and briefly thought that the wrong person had caught the wrong thing.

As he looked back out at the ocean, he tried to convince himself that replaying the look he'd seen on her face over and over didn't mean anything.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #mermaid reader

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drxwsyni · 3 years

Text

doubts and desires︱albedo x f!reader

summary: letting go of the past is hard, but losing what you have now would be harder. leaving albedo is neither something you can do, or something you really want, it’s simply taken you a while to understand that. word count: 2k warnings: implied dubcon, stockholm syndrome, past kidnapping

Even with how Albedo had bundled you up in a hat, scarf, gloves, and coat―it still failed to ward off the chill that seemingly sucked the warmth right from your body. Yet you said nothing about it, the unwanted attention it would draw from him inevitable if you made your discomfort known. And, you were almost certain he would drag you back to the cabin if he knew how the cold was treating you.

You didn’t enjoy the biting temperatures, but you didn’t want leave. Not when it’s been so long since you descended the mountain, that you barely even remember the feeling of snowfall against your skin.

The whole situation he’s placed you in is really quite foreign―confusing.

In how he’s letting you accompany him in his research, not far from his―your home. A safe distance, so to speak. Or that’s what he said, at least.

You realized that the way he spoke of this outing, how it’d just be the two of you, and that you wouldn’t venture very far; they were words of comfort. Not said to reassure himself that things would go smoothly, but to calm the look of trepidation in your eyes from the mere suggestion of going outside.

Now, seeing Albedo’s nonchalant demeanour while he studies the petrification of a fallen tree, it puts your mind at ease. Sure, if you look closely you’ll be able to see the way his eyes flicker to your form every few seconds or so, making sure you were right where he left you, but generally the alchemist is calm.

It makes you calm, for a moment it feels like you’re able to settle down and appreciate the intricate beauty of the snow swept mountain you stand upon. Best to do so now, knowing it wouldn’t be long until he would lead you home, sheltered safely away from the danger of the mountain’s climate.

“Oh―I didn’t know you were to be researching today, Albedo sir.”

With your back turned to the newly appeared stranger behind you, the cold that had seeped into your bones no longer posed as the only thing holding you in place―it was also now an icy fear.

You watched unmoving from your spot as Albedo gave pause, a hint of contemplation flashing across his face before standing.

“Timaeus. I thought you were studying back in the city.”

The man, who you had yet to properly address, responded with a somewhat nervous laugh.

“Yes, well I was, but it led me to do my own research out in the field…”

Always in a strangely graceful manner, Albedo dusted off his pants and straightened his jacket. A look of unashamed disinterest painted his expression as Timaeus rambled on about his findings.

Truly, you don’t recall Albedo ever showing such emotions with you―a detail not necessarily heartwarming, but still reassuring in an indescribable way.

Perhaps it was due to you being so sure that he’d rid himself of you when you no longer proved useful. Which made the swirling of affection and enamour in his eyes when he gazed upon you settle your nerves, even in just the slightest.

“...which I unfortunately have yet to procure. But―ah, I’ve gotten ahead of myself again. My apologies, how is your research coming along. And...who might you be?”

If Albedo recognized the look of severe anxiety flashing across your face, he paid no mind. Instead giving you a small, somewhat warm smile. As if to say, “Go ahead.”

The few seconds that passed were done in silence, you desperately trying to read Albedo’s face for ulterior motives, and the man behind you shuffling awkwardly in place while he waited for a response.

By some miracle, your body moved on autopilot, turning around to finally acknowledge the cause of your newfound distress. Only, you couldn’t even look him in the face.

Your mouth was dry, mind foggy and unable to think of a response that was anywhere near being coherent.

“...I―uh…”

“This is my new assistant. Please do forgive her, she’s quite shy.”

A shaky breath escaped your rigid body at the sound of Albedo’s voice, and the feeling of his hand resting gently upon the small of your back.

The blatant lie that only you and him recognized echoed inside your head.

Timaeus had no clue who you were, or what you meant to Albedo. But if he did know, you wondered what he would do.

“...Ah, it’s strange we’ve never met before.”

You could tell without looking that Timaeus was studying your form. With the way his tone shifted to something a little more unsettled, a pit grew in your stomach knowing how he had picked up on your questionable nervousness.

The hand resting on your back felt a little more heavy.

Albedo showed no signs of botherment, “That’s likely because she’s not from here.”

For some ungodly reason, the less experienced alchemist took this as an opportunity. “Oh, if that’s the case then we should show her around. Sucrose could use someone like herself to―”

“Actually, we were just leaving. I’m afraid I’ve kept her out in the cold too long, and descending the mountain any further is quite a reckless task in this weather―” His head turned to look at you, no longer addressing his student, “―right?”

If Timaeus was told of what his teacher had done to you, would he help? Even if he looks up to Albedo, even if everyone does, surely they would step in.

Only, the issue remained that first you’d have to prove to them you were in danger.

...And really, you weren’t. Not anymore.

The tender bruises around your wrists and ankles had healed long ago. Your health was in near perfect condition, what with how Albedo saw to it that you never did anything to put it at risk. A single and quick glance would show that you were so pristinely taken care of, complexion shining now that you no longer spent nights sleepless from fear.

What were you to even say?

Moreso, it remained true that you didn’t quite want to say anything.

Timaeus wouldn’t believe your truth, and Albedo would likely spin the scenario so that your words weren’t reliable anyways.

It dawned on you that Albedo knew this fact well, why else would he bring you with him if he wouldn’t still be entirely in control of the situation?

A simple movement, his hand drifted to your hip and gripped it firmly, urging.

Your voice, barely a whisper met his ears.

“...Of course…”

That was all he needed, sending an impatient, yet still neutral glance towards Timaeus, the smallest hint of self-satisfaction lingering in it.

His student took the hint.

_____

“I have to say, bringing you with me was quite...productive.”

After dinner, Albedo has you keep him company in his study. You, occupied with a book in a chair across from his desk, while he goes over his findings from the day’s outing.

“Research wise, I was able to study you in a foreign situation.” He continued, conversation one-sided, “The results were to my liking…”

Although construed in his ever sophisticated manner, his words told you that you did something right. He was proud, and that notion made the swell of a strange warmth in your heart grow.

The alchemist’s gaze remained downcasted at the papers strewn about in front of him while he spoke. “...I suppose you should be rewarded for such good behaviour.”

Your eyes flitted up, the story on your lap abandoned completely.

Albedo has never spoken of such a thing, not once entertaining the idea of rewards when he saw no reason to ever extend such gratitude. Even after all this time.

He must be especially pleased, you thought.

Perhaps, enough to grant you back even a small semblance of independence...that would most certainly be your wish.

You’d long grown used to his suffocating personality, the intense interest he paid you often resulting in little to no alone time. Albedo made sure you stayed in eyeshot, and in those inevitable times he needed to leave, he made them quick, and you were to be safely tucked away in the bedroom, door locked from the outside. There wasn’t a single detail he missed, no stone left unturned when trying to improve your security.

Unfortunately for you, it left little autonomy.

Just the smallest taste of self-reliance would be fine. You’d love to cook a nice meal, like the ones you used to make. Or perhaps to pick your own outfit one morning, something more your style than the things he put together for you. Any break from his constant guidance, no matter what shape or form, you’d gladly take―

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up then, I’ll meet you upstairs soon.”

Albedo neglected to look up as he spoke, and so he missed how the glimmer of anticipation in your eyes faded away. The way your shoulders dropped slightly, the look of disappointment flashing across your features in understanding of his words.

What he had planned, it was a reward...of sorts.

An excuse, as far as you saw it.

Albedo was known for testing the limits of living beings after all, and in certain ways, such studies extended to how he treats you. It’s a win win for him―he thinks it’s a reward, since he knows he can make you feel good, and doing so just shows him all those little things he can’t learn through idle observation. What makes you squirm or shy away with innocent embarrassment―information just as important as everything else he knows about you.

It doesn’t dissuade Albedo when he finally glances up to see what his offer has done, though the sight does make him feel as though he’s deceived you.

Still, he remains unapologetic. “While you gave me some good insight on how far you’ve...adjusted, I still can’t completely trust you. This merely turned out to be a good opportunity for satisfying your other needs―nothing more.”

Flipping open a nearby textbook, Albedo conveys wordlessly, a difficult habit of his, that the conversation has ended.

You, however, have yet to heed his words. Still seated, the once flickering of hope subsiding with each passing second. Call it grief, but you were sincerely expecting a different outcome. Though, knowing Albedo, and his constant need to grow more knowledgeable, you should’ve seen this coming.

“...I’d rather not have to force your compliance tonight. So, please―” He gestured towards the door with a wave of his hand, focus trained and brows barely knitted while he skims over his readings on the desk.

Honestly speaking, you once thought Albedo was a deeply confusing man. So too was the life he’d meticulously prepared, and swiftly forced you into. Yet, looking back, things may have been more simple than you once perceived.

Your only real job is to exist and comply. And you both know you’re not going anywhere, not going to say no. Especially now, given how effortless it feels to fall into routine, going through the motions of his request and carrying yourself upstairs.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s too late for you, what feels like an eternity spent at Albedo’s side having just about rendered your fighting spirit useless. It’s been long since replaced with what you’re coming to know as a certain fondness. You want to see the compassion in his eyes that’s sparked by your willing compliance.

It was a single, tangible goal. Not complex and unobtainable like those tasks of your past life. Attempts at obtaining those desires are futile, when today's events proved you genuinely no longer want them anymore.

It’s much easier to make Albedo proud. You don’t realize that you do it everyday, and that he’s just poor at conveying his own emotions...

Drawing yourself a bath, you wash away past doubts, settling with what your life has turned into.

Distantly, you hear Albedo make his way up the stairs and towards your bedroom. You like knowing what’s to come, which is always something you’ll have with him. You can’t say the same if you leave, and so you finally resolve that you never will.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere albedo #yandere albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere x you #albedo x you #tw dubcon

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hypnomicimagines · 3 years

Text

Domestic Life Series: Amayado Rei

Who kisses the other on the nose and the one receiving the kiss blushes?

Rei always tells you that you’re the cutesy one in the relationship yet he does things like kiss your nose without any hint of embarrassment, a smirk on his face when you can’t look him in the eye afterward. He said you would likely leave him if he didn’t give you these little shows of affection every now and again as you always accused him of being hot and cold, plus, seeing that blush on your face is always the highlight of his day. He doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with treating you delicately despite not seeming the type to want to do things like that with you but a man in love is one willing to put himself outside of his comfort zone, or so he says.

Who sits on their partners lap as they wrap their arms around their partners neck?

Rei loves showing you off and what better way to show you off than having you dressed to the nines in the most gorgeous outfit you’d ever been adorned in, posed on his lap as his hand cupped your ass. He’s gotta admit the position is a great one to admire you from and he finds himself glancing up at your face to assure you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is. He’s a huge flirt and he won’t deny it but there’s no one else in the room that could possibly light it up the same way you do.

Who kisses the inside of their partner’s palm before reassuring them everything is going to be okay?

You think he’s trying to pull one over on you the first time he does it much to his chagrin, scolding you for thinking he's always trying to take advantage of you. He admits that he hasn't always been the most straightforward in your relationship but he truly wants nothing but the best for you and he’s constantly assuring that no harm will come to you due to your connection with him. He gives another uncharacteristically gentle kiss for good measure, facial hair tickling the palm of your hand and causing you to giggle. The sound of your laughter brings a smile to his face and he’s pleased to see you’re much more at ease than when the conversation had started, preferring you leave all the troubling things to him.

Who initiates the forehead touch?

It’s one of the ways you take control of the conversation away from Rei, knowing he could talk his way out of everything if he wasn’t looking you directly in your eyes; he seemed most honest when you were practically staring into his soul, the guilt likely to eat him alive if he lied to you when you looked at him like that. He knows what it means when you do that, it means be quiet and listen, something he generally does once the forehead touch is initiated to avoid your wrath. It always leads to a little something more as Rei finds your lips to be irresistible when he’s this close to them but he’ll at least allow you to speak your piece first.

Where do they first say “I love you”?

It was after spending a full night together, one where you actually woke up with Rei still beside you in the morning when you first heard those three little words. You have to admit you didn’t believe them at all at first, turning away when he said them and tried to kiss you, unwilling to believe you’re not about to fall into another con of his. Rei doesn’t say anything nor does he act hurt that you didn’t return the ‘I love you’, shrugging it off as he did most things and continuing about his day while you struggled with how you really felt. Sometimes a leap of faith was required, in love it always seemed to be, and you weren’t quite ready to have Rei stomp on your heart and leave if he was just playing games. It leads into a serious conversation where you don’t hear one snarky comment or joke leave his mouth, Rei admitting that he did, truly, love you and that he thought he had proved it with his clear commitment to being your partner. You not believing him was understandable but there was nothing more he could do on his end, you’d have to choose to trust him or leave him in the dust, either decision he’d respect.

Who wraps their arms around their partner who’s cooking?

Sleeping over your house had many benefits that Rei had never thought of before which included getting to wake up to mouthwatering smells flooding the bedroom. He’s still half asleep and at least semi presentable when he wanders into the kitchen to see what you’re cooking, thinking you look adorably domestic in your little apron, opening his mouth immediately to let you know his inner thoughts. His hands on your hips are entirely distracting with the way his thumbs knead into your skin but you try to stay focused on not burning the food in front of you, telling him to at least be useful enough to take out plates so you can eat at the table properly.

Who breaks out the first aid kit when the other gets a paper cut?

Bold of you to assume Rei would even allow you to know he was hurt, taking on most things himself and keeping it inside forever if he has any say in it. He’s almost annoyed if you show him an extreme amount of care over something as minor as a papercut as he believes it’ll heal in no time without intervention, sighing when you’re insistent that he at least clean it out before going about his day. He supposed this stubborn caring side of you is part of the reason why he was attracted to you to begin with, knowing he couldn’t stand someone who was compliant or who didn’t make his life at least a little more entertaining. If he can do anything it’s try to grant you peace of mind.

Who cuddles up to the other?

Rei once jokingly called himself your teddy bear, something you cringed about at first but slowly became an acceptable thought to have when he officially moved in with you. There wasn’t a morning where you slept next to him that you didn’t wake up in his arms, head resting on his upper arm or chest even if you didn’t fall asleep cuddled up like that before. He swears that you move in on him in your sleep but you think he just enjoys holding you and doesn’t want to admit it, poking fun at him as much as you can since he generally has the upper hand on you. He doesn’t ever put up much of a fight as he knows he’s the cuddling culprit but it’s cute to watch you lay down all the cold hard facts on him.

Who falls asleep on who? What is their reaction when the other falls asleep on them?

You think it’s an equal opportunity choice but Rei absolutely believes you’re far more likely to fall asleep on him, especially when he’s talking about things that are science related or one his newest conman schemes (you refuse to listen to those as you don’t want to be liable when the cops come knockin’). You like to tell him it’s just because he’s exhausting to be around and he never takes it personally, simply telling you to admit you like sleeping on his ridiculously fluffy coat as the truth will set you free.

Who likes to be held and who likes to hold?

Getting to hold something so precious in his arms feels like a gift he never deserved and despite all the things he had done, good and bad, he wonders if he really earned the right to have you in this way. Surely there must be a person out there far better suited to taking care of you and fulfilling all your needs but the burning jealousy he feels thinking about you doing these sorts of things with another man… He wishes he could say he wasn’t selfish but as it was he wanted you all to himself, he wanted your happiness, your laughter, your smile, all of it to be because of him.

#Amayado Rei #Rei Amayado #Hypnosis Mic #Hypnosis Microphone #Hypnosis Mic Imagines #Hypnosis Microphone Imagines #Hypnosis Mic x Reader #Hypnosis Microphone x Reader #Amayado Rei x Reader #Domestic Life Series

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omniscientwreck · 3 years

Text

To Belong

Alright here’s some hurt/comfort as requested. Canon divergence where Caleb wasn’t able to dispel Gaudius’ hold on Essek.

One of Lucien’s many eyes looks toward him and everything slows. Warmth seeps in through his pores, sinking in through skin going straight to his head. He hears their call and for a moment he resists but, why would he?

He’s never belonged. He didn’t belong in Roshona, surrounded by religious zealots blinded by the comfort that comes with trust. Incurious, simple minded fools. He didn’t even belong with the Nein, not really. None of them trust him, he’s been eclipsed by his sins and nothing can break through to them.

He needs a blank slate, if he is to belong anywhere he has to be able to start over completely. That is what Gaudius offers, a new beginning, no judgement, no proving himself. He doesn’t have to work for their acceptance and love fills his heart. The Somnovum will take him as he is and there’s never anything he’s wanted more.

Everything is clearer now, these people were never in it for him. He drags his hands, beginning to pull at the strands of gravity as Lucien fills his mind with the power he can achieve once he’s one with them. When he joins the city.

The human lifts his hand to cast at him and without even thinking he waves his hand to counter the spell. “Essek no!” The blue tiefling looks horrified, feigning care even now.

He curls his fingers in, pooling gravity and thrusts his hands forward, centering the darkness on the wizard who’s toyed with him for nearly a year. The effect isn’t immediate but it will pay off, he’s sure and those caught inside, the humans, the clerics, the angel, the halfling will feel it’s effects soon enough.

The firbolg is the first. He hasn’t taken much damage but this seems to get to him. As Essek’s fingers clench he crumples like paper and Essek squeezes before releasing. He flies as far as he can but it isn’t far enough. More will come.

Up next, he feels the thief resisting, she’s strong and muscles through but it’s not pretty. Her form stretches briefly as he pulls and stretches with two hands before snapping back into place and he’s sure she cries for the wizard who cannot hear or see her. Something twinges in the back of his mind but Lucien calls out again and he remembers the family waiting for him.

The monk tries to appeal to him through her newfound abilities, she seems to be able to see through the darkness. She tries her hardest to reach some part of him still foolish enough to turn away from happiness and towards them, he hardly listens. She moves to run out of his grasp but just before she can make it he grabs hold and twists. Her body contorts and he can almost feel her crumble away, but she gains control and she just barely breaks out of his grasp.

He feels Caleb try to resist but his efforts just aren’t enough. He looks Essek directly in the eyes, and he hears whispers of the wizard’s voice try to get through to him, “You must break free, we need more time”. Essek’s face stretches into a wicked grin at this obvious manipulation tactic (I will show you belonging the way he couldn’t bear to) as he twists his wrist and pulls down, compressing the body in front of him. The wizard nearly leaves his influence but he’ll have another chance to take him down.

The angel didn’t stand a chance. She can’t resist the pull of his gravity and even if she could scream the monk’s name she wouldn’t be able to see her or save her. As he finishes with her his mind drifts back to memory, spurred by the wizard’s sweet words. We need more time. It will take time. You were not born with venom in your veins. Something snaps in the back of his mind and the Nonagon’s whispers turn to acid in his mind. He can see properly, he drops the spell and turns to Lucien, screaming as he turns on the beast with nine eyes, unleashing a torrent of inky black lightning, hitting him square in the chest.

-------

The battle is over and by some strange grace they’re all alive. The Nein are both celebrating and consoling each other. In the end they appealed to Molly and, for the second time, he was his own undoing.

It feels like intruding to be there, he who has done another irrevocable deed. He would leave immediately if he still had the energy but that effort is insurmountable. Caduceus had gotten them back to their own plane and they’re resting in an open field, surrounded by Caleb’s alarm spell, taking turns at watch. None of them are quite ready to be around their loved ones quite yet, needing one more night together as a family before dealing with the gravity of what they’ve accomplished.

Fjord holds Jester, keeping an eye on the horizon and whispering comfort as she silently cries into his shoulder. Beau and Yasha are curled together trying to sleep, Caleb has Frumpkin around his shoulders and Veth is curled into his side, Caduceus’ legs overlapping with Fjord’s in the tight space. There’s hardly room for Essek to sit in this small circle of sombre camaraderie, and the emotions of his travelling companions are simply too much for him so he stands to put some distance between them. Just for a moment. Just so he doesn’t have to look them in the eyes.

He stands, knees cracking and makes his way out to he open field. Nobody seems disturbed, none of them react and nobody calls after him. In the night air he’s met with stars and silence, the night sky used to comfort him. Now it’s a void he could be swallowed in and with the way he feels right now, he wishes it would.

His hair is coated with somebody’s blood, his body is battered and bruised and his spirit is shattered. They’d taken him along to help, they’d allowed him such an important opportunity to redeem himself and he’d nearly killed them. He’d made it far easier for Lucien to knock them down, luckily Caduceus and Jester had been focused and able to heal quickly enough. He’d ended up being a burden and once again a traitor.

“Essek.” He hears his name, a warning so he isn’t startled. Caleb’s voice drifts on the breeze, “Are you alright?”

He sighs, letting his head fall and squeezing his eyes shut. “No.”

“Let’s sit.”

He obliges, silent, waiting for Caleb to set the tone.

“You need to know we do not blame you for what happened. Yasha turned too, these things are not our fault.”

He can’t bare to look over but he does anyway. Caleb’s eyes shine with worry, furrowed brow pulling creases into his forehead. “It could have turned out so badly Caleb. That magic, it’s made to kill. You are all very lucky for your ability to escape and my comparative lack of experience in battle. I could have turned you to dust.”

Caleb sighs, “Guilt over hypotheticals is a waste of your time and energy. You could have, but you didn’t. We’re all still here, and we wouldn’t be without you. Don’t let yourself fall into the trap of comfortable self-loathing, you’ll waste years.”

“You couldn’t understand Caleb, I was convinced. I didn’t even want to resist. It was only-” he pauses on the brink of the confession and decides to throw caution to the wind, “It was only you that brought me back. My mind wasn’t my own, I was imprisoned and lied to and I was stupid enough to believe it.”

“I understand more than you know.” He looks instantly older, Essek has frequently wondered what Trent had done to Caleb to take such a bright and excellent man with so much kindness in his heart, and turn him hard. “I have been deceived, lied to, it lead to my worst moments. I’ve told you we are not so different and it’s clearer now more than ever. If there is redemption for me, as I’ve been assured many times there will be, you will find yours.”

Essek shakes his head, “It would have been nobler for me to die for the world than to continue this pathetic existence. It would have been a just end, poetic and balanced. Now there’s so much unresolved I don’t know where to start or where to go.”

Caleb’s hand covers his on the grass, “Well, we can start by researching, it’s what we do best. Everyone else has someone to go to, family to see, something to go back to. I only have forward momentum, more to learn and see. You could join me, we can go back to Aeor and see what comes.”

Essek nods, “I do not deserve that but because I am a selfish creature I accept your offer.”

Caleb squeezes his hand and he looks up again, into his eyes, “It does not matter what you think you deserve. You are not the decider of what I offer you.” He has a fierce look about him, he may have hit a nerve, “Trust that I know what I want and when I say I want you with me it’s not out of pity or some savior complex. Let me offer you this and quell any self-pity or doubt. I’m not obligated to like you or want to be around you, but I do because I like you Essek. I think it should be plain by now that I like you a great deal and I hope that you will come along with me, to see where this leads us.”

Despite himself, Essek turns his hand over under Caleb’s and tentatively laces their fingers together. He’s seen him do similar things with the Nein and when Caleb doesn’t flinch he relaxes a bit. “I will trust you in this. I am also quite fond of you. Thank-you, for your words. For your trust. One day I hope to feel worthy of such a gift.”

Caleb squeezes his hand and leads him back to the tent where they sit side by side wordlessly before falling asleep, still holding hands.

#critfic #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #shadowgast #critical role #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #Gaudius' power is so insidious and i LOVE #hope this isn't too ooc #i had a hurt/comfort request and I also didn't want to write character death rn #but wow am i emotional about this ep jeeeeeze #omniwrites

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Seventeen ~ Split

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1482

Warnings: None

A/n Hello hello! I know it’s not one of my normal update days, but this one is short, so enjoy this angsty bonus chapter!

Cosima

Weeks pass in routine. In the mornings I research with Alex or study Sindarin alone, sometimes venturing into the garden or library to occupy my time. The lunch hours are typically spent in the company of friends, and Lavandil and I have been passing many of our afternoons together in her shop. As the summer continues, business only grows, and I can see why she asked for the help. Her art is quite popular! She tried to teach me how to weave and, unsurprisingly, I’m terrible. So I mainly help clean and work with the customers.

Three nights a week, Alex, Baranor and I meet in the library and continue our lessons. On that, I actually am making progress. It’s allowed me to converse with Lavandil’s customers in their own language. It’s also helped me feel much more self-sufficient here. No longer must I have to rely on Lavandil or Rumil to translate when we go out. Ellyn I speak with still have to slow their words and repeat things several times, and sometimes I must ask for clarification, but the progress really is liberating.

Two days a week, right after breakfast, Alex and I meet Elrond in his study.

Lord Elrond insists on using the power in his fæ to attempt to aid us in recovering our memories. I hate to admit it, but his efforts are wasted and, on my part, not really wanted. Besides the memory of Mara and Nonna, I don’t remember anything, and at this point, I’m not sure I want to. I’m already too attached to the people here, and I’ve seen where that’s gotten me. I don’t want to remember people from home — love them, miss them, and then realize I can never return to them.

I don’t make much progress, anyway. Most days, Alex and I have nothing but headaches and exhaustion to show for our work. Every now and then, one of us will remember something small — a passing event or an aquauntaince from childhood — but nothing of real interest. Elrond agrees that the headaches and exhaustion are signs that we are not yet healed from whatever ordeal resulted in us arriving in Arda. He’s been keeping an eye on our fæs — apparently they are somehow injured — and says that the original wounds are all but healed.

Alex’s progress is less encouraging. His old wounds are healing, but nearly every time Elrond or Baranor checks, there’s a new injury. They don’t know what’s causing it, but privately, I have a theory. While Alex says he’s accepted this world, knowing him, there’s a part that’s still hanging on to our homeworld. Maybe that’s causing too much stress to allow him to heal. Because I’m healing, and I’ve fully accepted this world for what it is — impossible, different, but real.

And then at night time, training continues with Haldir.

I am careful to keep distance between us except when absolutely necessary. By the way he does the same, he’s recognized the urgent precariousness of our situation. As much as I want to confess the feelings I keep so tightly bottled up inside, to fall into his arms and ask him to love me forever, I cannot.

Because my forever is abysmally different than his.

So I keep my distance.

My effort to avoid excessive contact or time with him is helped by the fact that, not long after our first training session, he became incredibly busy. Though relations between him and Glorfindel are still tense, the two work tirelessly to train the newer guard. Often, by the time I make my way down to breakfast, Haldir is long gone, off to lead drills.

The distance between us hasn’t helped my internal predicament.

Too often, I catch myself following the line of his jaw, remembering the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, wanting to return to that excitement of just the two of us under the stars.

I don’t act on these thoughts, nor communicate them to anyone, though Lavandil certainly tries to break that resolve. She’s adamant that, even with my lifespan to consider, it is better to spend the time we have together in happiness rather than holding ourselves back from something that could be great.

I forcefully disagree.

I’d rather cause myself a little pain now than put Haldir in a position where he could be broken later.

Surprisingly, Rumil, once my tormentor, has become my closest ally. Any time someone attempts to bring up the subject of me and Haldir, Rumil promptly shuts it down, usually changing the subject to something outlandish enough to properly distract everyone. He kindly occupies my newfound free time and we go riding together at least once a week. Since Rumil has Roch, Haldir allows me to take Faervel out, and, where the horse used to be indifferent towards me at best, he now whinnies in greeting the second I set foot in the stables.

My life in Imladris is nice. It’s peaceful. It’s filled with wonderful friends and so much to discover. And I’m happy, there’s no doubt about that…even if something is missing. I caught my feelings early and took preventative action by distancing myself from Haldir, which is good…but it’s…unfulfilling, in a way, to stay far from him. I miss eating meals together and talking about our days before training sessions. I miss constantly having him around. I miss him teasing me and moments where it’s just us.

I miss him.

But I won’t lose my resolve.

If my sadness can save Haldir pain, then I will bear it.

{***}

Haldir

Summer in Imladris passes quickly. My days revolve around training the newer guard, and they show promising progress. Lothlórien’s borders are much more extensive than that of Imladris’, and I am confident adopting some of the techniques I use with my wardens at home to fit Elrond’s guard will help them be more prepared when the orcs attack again. My brothers have been indispensable, kindly offering their help and allowing me to use them as examples for the other soldiers. Orophin, of course, plans his schedule around Lavandil’s, but I have him with us about three days a week. Rumil joins nearly every day, only disappearing on Saturday mornings to take the horses out with Cosima.

Cosima.

My mind has been consumed by her for weeks.

If I am being honest, it’s been consumed with her long before then, probably up to the moment she arrived in this world. I now understand that my desire to keep her near me after the attack, and every moment after, was not only a preventative measure to make her feel better — it was my need to keep her close. To keep her safe. To have that reassurance that she is alright, and, if we were to be attacked again, I could defend her myself.

I really do owe Rumil an apology.

Turns out my brother knows me better than I know myself.

But despite the startling realization that I want to be with a human woman—not just any human woman, Cosima—the days continue.

Not of small concern is Cosima’s health which, mercifully, is improving. Her sessions with Elrond to attempt to regain her memories must be helping — though her memories have not returned, the scars on her fæ are nearly completely healed.

Aside from my monitoring of her health through Elrond and Baranor, my busy schedule prevents me from seeking her out. We continue to train together three times a week — she is making vast improvements — but our interactions are hesitant, a little awkward. I worry I overstepped my bounds that first night, or perhaps, even before that — maybe the night under the stars — for she certainly keeps her distance now. No longer do we eat together or talk in our free time. It’s a strange feeling, but it causes me stress not to see her during the day. Even a quick interaction would be enough, just to catch a glimpse of her smile or hear the approval of her laugh, but those are few and far between.

But, as much as it pains me, it is for the best.

I hate to think of it this way, but Cosima’s life is short and her future uncertain. Were she an elleth, there would be no issue — I could tell her of my feelings and she could return them and we could spend the rest of our never-ending lives together.

But Cosima is human. Even if she does choose to stay in Arda forever, her forever and mine are vastly different. If I give in, do as I so desperately want to and build a life with her…

She does not know it, but she has the power to break me.

And, while I still hold a sliver of the ability to keep that from happening, I must seize on it.

A/n Thanks for reading, and happy weekend! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! See you Monday with a new chapter :)

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emilia3546 · 3 years

Text

Shadowsinger Part 5 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

*****

Madja smiled as Gwyn followed her sisters into the healer's house,

"I believe you wanted to get a brace made for your wings?" She asked, gesturing for Emerie to sit, and she nodded,

"I can't fully draw a bow with the limited movement." She admitted, and nodded when Madja paused before reaching out to see exactly how far her wings could move on their own, and then with assistance. Gwyn and Nesta sat in front of Emerie, each holding one of her hands, and she squeezed each time something hurt, but never stopped Madja.

"How much higher do you need them to rest?" Madja asked,

"Not too much, I can't remember exactly what Azriel suggested."

"That's okay, I'll make one that's adjustable, so it can change as needed. Just so you're aware, bracing your wings higher than where they naturally rest will stretch the muscles, and might leave them a bit sore depending on how long you brace them for." Emerie nodded, "But it might also loosen the tightness that's come with the years, and if you want to, perhaps we can incorporate some physical therapy to improve movement a little."

"Physical therapy?" Emerie's eyes flashed with fear, "Not - not reopening the wounds to heal?" Gwyn gently squeezed her hand,

"No, nothing like that. You're not alone in wanting to avoid that, just stretches and exercises to improve strength and movement as your wings are. Perhaps with the right encouragement, your wings will be able to rest in a position suitable for archery without a brace at some point."

"That'll certainly be helpful," Emerie mused, "Okay, let's try it."

"Wonderful." Madja slowly released Emerie's wings, and pulled a sketchpad from under her desk, she sat silently for a few moments while Emerie turned to sit normally in her chair, "This is what I'm imagining," she explained, showing the females her sketch, "Does that look about right?"

"Yes. Thank you." Emerie grinned, and Madja smiled, her joy at helping a patient obvious in the way her eyes shone,

"I should have it made within a week or so, I will send word when it's done, and I'll let you know a potential schedule for your physical therapy."

"Oh. Um," Emerie started, "I don't live in Velaris, and I'd rather any letters not be found by my neighbors."

"I know," Madja said, smiling softly, "I meant, I'll send word to the House of Wind, I assume either Cassian or Azriel will help you when you come for training."

"Thank you," Emerie grinned, and turned round to Nesta, "Watch out, Nes, I'm coming after your title." Nesta narrowed her eyes,

"We'll see about that," she muttered, and Gwyn laughed,

"Oh please, neither of you stand a chance against me," she joked, and thanked Madja again before leading her sisters outside, to where Mor was already waiting,

"Well?" Emerie grinned and nodded,

"She says it should be made in a week!"

"That's great, are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, she also said that she thinks she can help with some stretches and exercises to eventually strengthen my wings so they won't need a brace." Mor grinned, and Emerie threw her arms around her, holding on tight as they winnowed back to the House.

Gwyn and Nesta shared a knowing look when they arrived, and slipped away, leaving Emerie and Mor alone for a moment,

"Oh, Gwyn, before I forget, there'a family dinner tonight, I doubt Emerie will be able to come, but you're more than welcome to if you want."

"A family dinner?"

"Yeah, at my sister's River House."

"You mean, a dinner with the High Lord and Lady?"

"With my sister and brother-in-law, my other sister, Elain, I don't think you've properly met, but she'll be there, and Amren and Varian, have you met them?"

"Briefly, but only for a couple of minutes,"

"And obviously, Mor, Cass and Az are all coming. It's okay if you're not comfortable coming though."

"No, I'll come, is it okay if I decide to leave early though?"

"Of course. Whatever you're comfortable with." Nesta didn't say it, but Gwyn easily noticed the pride in her eyes, pride for her, that she was willingly going to a gathering with people she didn't know well, or at all, in Elain's case. She smiled, Nesta didn't need to know that Azriel was the sole reason that she was comfortable with going,

"I'll see you tonight." Nesta grinned, before turning away,

"Oh, and my nephew will be there as well, at least for a bit." Gwyn smiled as Nesta disappeared off to whatever work she had to do.

*****

Gwyn was beautiful. There was no other way to describe her as she walked towards him, Azriel couldn't help the smile that sprung to his face, and his shadows shot across to her, not even waiting for his permission, dancing around her as she walked across to him. She had forsaken the robes of a priestess tonight, instead opting for a loose dress, the skirts not quite falling to the floor, leaving her shoes on display. The dress itself was midnight-blue, the skirts made from several swathes of fabric, flowing around her as she moved, and on her feet were a pair of flat shoes, matching the dress, elegant but practical. She had swept her hair onto her head, out of the way. She had dressed to look relatively formal, but so that she could still run, and fight. Azriel extended a hand, waiting for her to reach him, his shadows still surrounding her when she grasped his hand. They stayed with her as he flew her down to the River House, with Cassian and Nesta beside them.

Gwyn took a deep breath when Azriel set her down on the porch of the River House,

"You okay?" He muttered, and she nodded, but didn't step away from her side, going motionless when the door opened, and Feyre grinned at them,

"We're just getting sat down." She said, her gaze lingering on Gwyn for a moment, "Gwyn, I'm Feyre, we met briefly a few months ago." Gwyn returned her smile, and shook the hand Feyre held out for her,

"I remember," she faltered for a second, "I don't know what I should call you," she admitted, and Feyre smiled again,

"Just Feyre, no 'my lord' or 'my lady' within our family." Gwyn smiled, and,

"Alright, Feyre." Feyre grinned, and Gwyn seemingly opened up, her nervousness visibly fading a little at Feyre's friendly tone,

"Come on in then, you lot."

Azriel kept a hand on Gwyn's lower back as she followed Nesta and Cassian inside, and she flashed him a grateful smile, this was still difficult for her, but if he could make it any easier, he would.

Everyone else was already sat down when they reached the dining room, except for Mor, who was still sitting in an armchair across the room, playing with baby Nyx, her joy at his every giggle and squeal of delight plain for anyone to see. Were it not for Gwyn at his side, Azriel's gaze would have lingered, but he checked that Gwyn was still alright, and deliberately guided her to a chair away from the males she didn't know well. She was still close to Elain though, and Mor slid into the chair opposite Azriel after handing Nyx back to his mother. Gwyn kept close to him as conversations started around the table, casual conversations, no mention of work, or the potential situation in Illyria, not at family dinner. Gwyn was unusually quiet, mostly observing everyone around her, and talking politely to Mor and Nesta when she needed to. Every casual move was clear, calculated, her instincts for observation were perfect, had she been there to report back to someone, she would have been able to talk about everyone. A flash of pride shot through him at the realization that she was trying to figure out what to talk about with different people, and he cursed himself for not briefing her beforehand,

"Feyre tells me that you got some new seeds, Elain," he started, daring a glance at Rhys as her attention snapped to him, his brother wasn't watching, thank the Cauldron. Elain stared straight at him, and he tried not to squirm under her gaze as she excitedly talked about the new plants she was growing, exclusive to the Night Court. Was she still upset that he'd had to stop whatever had been starting to form between them? He almost winced at the intensity of her gaze, resisting to urge to ask his shadows what was up with her, but he wouldn't invade her privacy, even if she was mad at him.

"Did you ever find any night-blooming lilies?" It was the first question Gwyn had asked all evening, "We had some at Sangravah when I was young, but I've not seen them since,"

"No," Elain sighed, "I can't find them anywhere, it's as if all the seeds vanish the moment I try looking for them. I'll get my hands on some eventually. Excuse me," she muttered, standing to go and fetch the food, returning with Nuala and Cerridwen a few minutes later, leaving Gwyn hanging, and Azriel almost glared after her, but turned to Gwyn,

"Well done," he whispered, just loud enough for Gwyn to hear him, and he noticed Rhys glancing towards them for fifth time that evening, "If you're okay, I think Rhys wants to come over,"

"Oh?"

"You're a part of the family now. But he'll understand if you'd rather not tonight."

"No, it's okay," Azriel jerked his head slightly, and Rhys made his way slowly towards them, claiming the seat across from Gwyn, and smiled at her, "Hello, my lo-, sorry, Rhysand." He chuckled softly,

"Just Rhys is fine, Gwyn, we don't reinforce rank here."

"I know. Feyre mentioned, it's just a bit of a surprise," she glanced across to Azriel, just for a moment, wanting that little reassurance that he was still there,

"How's Nyx doing? You getting any sleep now?" Rhys rolled his eyes, and snorted,

"Sleep? What's that?" Rhys groaned, but grinned, and Gwyn smiled,

"Nyx is your son?" Rhys nodded,

"He's almost four months old now," he turned to see Feyre making her way across the room, Nyx in her arms, grabbing at her hair, and giggling when she passed him to Azriel,

"Say hi to uncle Azriel," she crooned, and grinned as she returned to her seat, Nyx stared up at him, and he reached out for something, grabbing at the air, the shadows,

"He's beautiful," Gwyn whispered, "I've always loved children, I used to look after the younglings at Sangravah."

"Do you want to hold him?" Rhys asked softly, and she nodded, giggling when Nyx hiccuped, staring up at her with wide eyes, then back at Azriel, "I hope we might see you around a bit more, Gwyn," Rhys said as he too left, following Feyre back to their seats. Gwyn looked around in a panic,

"Doesn't he want his son back?"

"You're fine, Gwyn, look, Nyx loves you." True to his words, the child had fallen asleep in Gwyn's arms, his little wings flopping down, and she carefully gathered them up,

"It's been ages since I held a child," she whispered, "I miss it." She smiled down at the sleeping child in her arms, "Babies don't ever judge, they see the world exactly as it is, and don't apologize for it." Azriel couldn't help but smile as she look back at him, laughing when Mor swooped back in to steal her nephew,

"My turn," she demanded, and grinned when Gwyn relinquished the child, his chubby hands pulling on a golden chain around her neck, a necklace, the necklace, oh shit, Elain was going to see it. He had to distract her attention, if Elain saw it, she'd mention it, and Gwyn, he never wanted her to think herself second best, if he'd been thinking he would have returned it, and bought her a different one, but it was too late now, shit. He could hide it, with his shadows. It was too late, Elain had already turned back, her gaze landing on the necklace,

"That's a lovely necklace, Gwyn." No. Shit, shit, shit.

"It was a gift from a friend at solstice, I never found out who." Gwyn smiled and touched the charm,

"I'm glad Azriel found someone who wanted it after I gave it back to him." Gwyn turned to face him, and he wished he could just vanish,

"What? Is that true? Did you give it to Elain first?" Tears were shining in her eyes, and devastation marred her beautiful face,

"Yes, but -" she didn't give him a chance to speak, running out of the room immediately, "Gwyn!" he called after her, and glared at Elain, "What the fuck, Elain?" he almost shouted,

"She deserves to know. No one wants to be second best."

"She's not. I didn't even tell her it was from me! I just wanted someone to be happy with it, not using it as an escape from something else!" He snapped, following Gwyn out of the room before Elain had a chance to answer.

*****

He had just given her the necklace because Elain didn't want it. Azriel thought she was just someone to pass off unwanted gifts to. She would have been thrilled to learn it was from him, if he hadn't just been passing it on to her. She paused at the door, hearing Azriel's angry words to Elain, and debated going back, but ran outside, into the gardens, finding a bench to sit on. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, but couldn't stop the tears from falling. She had thought he was different, better, but he had only thought of her when Elain had given it back, of course he wanted Elain, his brothers were with her sisters, so of course they were, whatever they were. She was foolish to think he'd ever want her. She buried her face in her hands and cried, letting out the sobs that she had hidden earlier, tears falling freely down her face.

Footsteps sounded on the marble floor at the entrance to the house,

"Go away," she muttered,

"Gwyn, please." Azriel. He thought he could just follow her out here, as if he had done nothing wrong,

"Why don't you run inside and find Elain!" she snapped,

"I don't want Elain." He said, not coming any closer,

"I won't be someone you just use to replace her. If you cared, you would have bought me a present for me, not just because the person you bought it for didn't want it."

"Gwyn," his voice broke on her name, "I never meant for you to feel second best-"

"Aren't I?"

"No! I just wasn't thinking."

"Obviously!" Gwyn glared at him, her vision still blurred by tears, "You were supposed to never lie to me! You're the first male I trusted! And you didn't even prioritize me!" She shouted, "I just wanted you to trust me, to not hide from me like you do with everyone else, and you lied to me."

"Gwyn please, it wasn't like that, I do trust you, I just, I was going to tell you, but then it was so long, and I thought it would just upset you to bring it up. Yes, I bought it for Elain, but it didn't make her happy, and I just wanted someone to be happy." He took another step towards her, something like devastation crossing his face when she shifted away, ready to run, and he stopped, "Elain didn't want to face her mating bond, either to accept or reject it, and she used me as a way to avoid it. I thought I wanted her, that she wanted me, but she wanted an escape, and thought I could provide it. I bought the necklace because I thought she would be happy, but I, Gwyn, there is nothing with her, and she gave it back when she realized that. I just wanted it to make someone happy. Clotho never told you it was from me, because it doesn't matter, I just told her to give it to someone who would be happy." Tears were shining in his eyes as he spoke, "I know I'm an idiot, you don't have to tell me that, and I know I can't fix it, but I'm sorry, I should have taken it back and bought you something different, but I wasn't thinking, and," he stopped, "I'm just sorry." It had made her happy, and she didn't know what to say. Perhaps she was overreacting, it was true that Clotho had never told her it was from him, and she supposed it didn't matter, but she unclipped it from around her neck,

"Then take it back now." A tear slid down his face as she passed the necklace to him, and he dropped his head, but before he could apologize again she continued, "Return it, and let's choose something different, together."

"You're not mad?"

"Oh, I'm furious, but not just because of you. I understand, I know what is to want to make someone happy, but you do make people happy, Az, you are more than just your job. I don't care what you've done, I just care that you're honest with me. You lied to me. That's what upset me, that, and I thought you preferred her."

"No, never."

"Let me finish. But mostly, I'm angry at her, she saw that I liked the necklace, that you had made someone happy with it, and she tried to ruin that. You should have got a different one, and you should have told me, but Elain shouldn't have tried to upset me with that, she was jealous, Az." Azriel smiled, and dropped to his knees in front of where she was still sitting on the bench, clasping her hands in his,

"I swear to you now, I will always tell you everything, always, Gwyn. No secrets." He gently kissed her hands, and she smiled,

"Thank you, that's all I ever wanted." The necklace was left on the bench when they returned to the dining room, where Elain was nowhere to be seen.

"Gwyn!" Nesta shot to her feet the moment they stepped through the door, glaring daggers at Azriel, "Are you okay? I'm so sorry, Elain, she was way out of line, I don't think she'll be coming back, I was pretty mad," Gwyn laughed at Nesta's explosive temper, but reassured her,

"I'm fine, stop it, it's not his fault, it was a misunderstanding, it's fine." Nesta narrowed her eyes at Azriel once more before relaxing,

"Don't ever pull that kind of shit again," she said,

"I have already sworn to never keep secrets from her." Nesta nodded,

"Good, I won't have to cut your balls off then," Gwyn snorted and sat back down, apologizing to everyone for making a scene, but Mor just laughed,

"There's always something that goes a bit wrong, at least you two made up." Gwyn laughed, and stayed for the rest of dinner, her hand still clasped in Azriel's as they finished dessert, she didn't let go until they were in the air again.

"Where are we going?" The House was behind them as they flew,

"You'll see." Azriel chuckled, gently setting her down outside a shop, still open, even at this time, and pushed the door open, "Let me at least try to fix my mistake,"

"You don't have to. You apologized, and took responsibility, you're forgiven, it was a mistake."

"Let me do this." he repeated, "Neve! What do you have that would suit Gwyn?" A female popped her head up from behind the counter, studying her quickly,

"Perhaps something in emerald, one moment," Azriel led Gwyn to the counter,

"Pick whatever you want." Neve returned moments later, a pair of emerald earrings in hand,

"These are new, one of a kind, perfectly suited to your lady,"

"Oh, she's not-" Azriel started, but Gwyn smiled, stopping him before he could finish,

"They're beautiful, but they must be expensive?"

"That's alright." Azriel insisted, "Rhys massively overpays me."

"No, Azriel I can't accept this, I'll pay you back."

"It's a gift. For you. Please." Neve held the earrings up as if Gwyn were wearing them, and Azriel's breathing hitched, almost imperceptibly,

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. We'll take them."

"Excellent, I'll put the charge on your tab,"

"Thank you, Neve." Azriel helped her to put the earrings on, and grinned at her, "You look beautiful," he whispered before guiding her out of the shop, and flew her back to the House. Gwyn felt herself drifting off to sleep and buried her face in Azriel's shoulder, she was asleep within moments.

*****

Gwyn was asleep in his arms when he landed, and Azriel unconsciously hugged her closer, setting her down in her bed, stopping when she mumbled his name. He turned back, but she was still asleep, reaching across the bed to where he had been sat moments before. He was still there when she opened her eyes,

"Az?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay with me? I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Yeah, okay."

"Just turn around a moment, I need to change into a nightgown." He did as she asked, and quickly returned to his own room to grab a set of sleeping clothes and to move a few of his weapons into her room. When he got back, he made to pull the chair he had slept in before to the bed, and Gwyn was already asleep, his shadows swirling around her,

She's fine, get some sleep,

They whispered, and he settled down in the chair, sitting next to her all night.

#fanfiction #fanfic #azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn #gwyn acosf #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames

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zukoscomet · 3 years

Text

I realised recently that I never actually collated all the ideas I had about my Zutara kids so here, have some steambabies! Idk I just really like the idea of Katara and Zuko having a big family after all they’ve lost when they were young, and as an only child, I guess I kind of romanticise the idea of having siblings.

TW: I hc that Katara would have had a miscarriage, so if that is a trigger for you then maybe don’t read on.

Shameless plug but if you wanna read more about this, my series on AO3 is roots and wings.

Their firstborn is a boy who they name Kai after Kya. His full name is Kaito but nobody who knows him ever calls him that, not even when he’s in trouble. I’m not going to go into too much context about like the pregnancy bc you can already find that stuff here. He turns out very much like Zuko physically - tall, golden irises, straight black hair, narrow angular face - but he has mixed tawny skin and his eyes are shaped round and wide like Katara. He’s born on the last day of summer in 109 AG, so because of superstition that firebenders are born in peak summer, there’s some uncertainty about what he’ll bend - if at all - but then when he’s three and a half, he makes a flame. Iroh trains him to firebend until he’s about 16, then he goes off to the Sun Warriors for a year to finish off, and he ends up a very spiritual firebender. Kai is like the dream first child - the softest boy ever to live - and when Katara and Zuko go on to have more children, he’s a really great big brother, like wholeheartedly adores his little sibs even if they drive him completely nuts about 95% of the time. He’s quite a conflicted and confused kid growing up. He’s never quite sure of what he wants in life but finally, when he’s 17, he decides that he realises that he doesn’t want to be Fire Lord and passes along the heir status to his sister. After that he joins the Sun Warriors and eventually marries the chief’s daughter, Himari, and they have two firebender girls, Aiko and Sol.

Izumi arrives not long after her brother in 110 AG. Katara and Zuko planned to wait but it ends up that there’s barely a year between Kai and Izumi and it comes as an extra shock as Katara didn’t figure out she was pregnant again till like 18 weeks in. Katara goes into labour early at 35 weeks and Izumi is born really small - she never completely catches up either and it’s hilarious because after successive generations of tall male Fire Lords, they get Izumi who’s barely 5 feet - but she’s otherwise fine. She’s physically a mish-mash so overall she resembles nobody especially - Katara’s hair, complexion and big round eyes, Zuko’s irises, Azula’s heart-shaped face and highly arched brow line, Hakoda’s facial features. The superstition about summer births for firebenders peters out real quick when Izumi, born in the autumn, bends blue fire at two and a half and, taught by Jeong Jeong, she grows into a prodigal master. When she’s young, Izumi is the polar opposite of her brother - feisty, stubborn, determined and whip smart - and she’s a heathen teenager but by about 15 she mellows and matures, and part of Kai’s reasoning for abdicating is that Izumi seems a better fit for Fire Lord. Izumi was always kinda apathetic to kids but at 19, she accidentally gets pregnant and has her son, Kazuo, then her daughter, Kira, eleven years later. Izumi becomes Fire Lord at 37 but she only rules for about 14 years before retiring. Since she had Kaz so young, if she stayed on the throne much longer, Kaz would also be an older man when it came time for him to inherit, so she decides to step aside and Kaz is coronated just after his 33rd birthday.

(Kazuo takes after his Gran Gran in more ways than just his blue eyes; he’s a waterbender so Kaz is the first waterbender Fire Lord)

After a break, Katara and Zuko decide to try for a third addition and Katara gives birth - in the Southern Water Tribe, for the first time - to Bashira, four years after Izumi. Shira looks probably the most like Zuko out of all the children, even more than her elder brother does. They share the same tall and lean physique, the same long black hair, Shira is mixed but still the palest of all the steambabies and their faces are practically identical. They’re characteristically very similar, too - serious, intense and reserved. The only differences is that her hair is curly, her eyes are blue and finally, Katara gets her waterbending child. Both of them suspected that Shira was going to be a waterbender even at the early stages of the pregnancy, but it’s still super exciting when Shira tosses a wave at her elder siblings when she’s two. Katara is teaching her as soon as she possibly can but over time some tension develops between them when Shira turns out to be quite different from her mom in terms of natural bending style. Shira is very fight-oriented, she learns dao swords from Zuko and never shows as much of an interest in the healing arts, but when things blow up and eventually Shira is able to explain that she wants to be able fight like her mom did during the war, things straighten out and Katara guides Shira all the way through to mastery. She eventually moves to the South in her late teens to lead the tribe’s warriors. There, she has three children - waterbender twins Kenzo and Kenji, then a daughter named Kanna who’s a firebender like Grandpa - but the marriage to their father doesn’t last and in her 50s, she ends up in a relationship with Aang and Toph’s daughter, Lin.

Katara gets pregnant for a fourth time - planned - just after Shira turns two, but this time she has a miscarriage. Zuko was overseas when it happened so she went through it alone. Katara is devastated and resents Zuko for not being there. She knows it’s not his fault but she can’t help her emotions and that makes her feel even worse so she just shuts down - stops doing her Fire Lady work, stops spending any more time with Zuko and their children than necessary, won’t let the rest of the family visit them and spends most of the day lying in bed. Zuko doesn’t know how to help her so initially he decides to give her space to grieve however she feels she needs to, but it just deteriorates until one day Zuko suggests that maybe they should both go to therapy or marriage counselling or something because it can’t go on like this. Katara just completely loses it at that and ends up yelling at him all the things that she’d been bottling up over the last couple of months. Katara says some awful things and she’s expecting Zuko to take it poorly, hence why she kept it all inside up till now, but Zuko just accepts every bit of it and after that, she’s finally able to grieve properly and mend.

About six months after they come back together, they decide to try again and Katara eventually falls pregnant. The pregnancy itself goes smoothly but both of them are so stressed about something going wrong like last time and the effect that might have on both of them, then Gran Gran passes away when Katara is in her thirtieth week, so the full ten months were incredibly hard-going.

It’s a big relief when the baby is finally born on Ember Island, three years after Shira in 117 AG. They name her Lili in honour of their recent losses, since lilies can ease scars and Iroh once referred to them as lights in darkness. From the beginning, Lili is the image of Katara in every way physically and characteristically - kind, patient, gentle, but does have quite a temper if she’s pushed too far. She’s also a waterbender, though it takes her a little longer to manifest her abilities than any of her siblings, first gaining control of the water at the age of six. Lili is incredibly endearing, as both a child and an adult, and she becomes so particularly popular with the Fire Nation public that the firebending qualification to be considered an heir to the throne is reversed, so Shira and Lili are inducted into the succession. Born in the same year, Lili had a long-term relationship with Tenzin, Aang and Toph’s thirdborn, but as they grew older, Tenzin was concerned that if he married her, their children would have heritage of all four elements and degrade the chances of Tenzin producing airbenders and continuing the Air Nation. That concern resulted in a kind of on-again-off-again thing but eventually Lili sent him off with an "I don’t want to be with someone that isn’t even sure he wants me" and went travelling the world for a few years. When they’re both in their thirties though, Lili and Tenzin reconnect and get back together, eventually marrying and producing five children - Jinora, Aya, Hiro, Rohan and Kano, the elder four airbenders and the youngest a waterbender.

A few months after Lili is born, Sokka and Suki have a baby girl and when Katara and Zuko go to visit their new niece, they agree that night on a spur-of-the-moment that they want one more child. The morning after, they talk about it properly and decide it’d be better to wait till Lili was a bit older, but Katara found out six weeks later that that one time had been successful. About halfway through, they find out that they’re expecting a boy and Katara is especially excited since their son had always been more closely attached to her whereas their girls were very firmly Daddy’s girls. Sure enough, when Kallik arrives in 118 AG, he’s a big Mama’s boy and remains so his entire life. Apart from his curly black hair, Kallik is the spitting image of his uncle, to the point that Hakoda says that seeing Lili and Kallik together is like seeing young Katara and Sokka. Kallik is the hardest to handle out of their children - loud, playful, mischievous and an exhausting troublemaker. All of the siblings fight like cat and dog but Kallik and Izumi are by far the worst, on the level of one walks into a room and the other is like “And I took that personally” and they never seem to grow out of it even when they’re both old and grey. Kallik is the only nonbender in the family and initially he struggles with this a bit but he spends a lot of time hanging out with Uncle Sokka, learns dao swords with Shira and Zuko, and by the time he hits his teens, he comes to view it more as something that sets him apart from his siblings. When he’s 18, he goes to join the United Forces and he stays in service till his late thirties, when he meets Ren, another serviceman from the Northern Water Tribe. After beginning a relationship with him, the pair settle in Republic City and end up adopting two daughters, Kirima and Alasie.

About a decade after Kallik is born, it seems like things are kind of slowly drawing to a close as the kids are getting older - Kai is 19 and has left home, Izumi is 18 and living away in Republic City while she studies at university, Shira is 14 and already talking about moving South the first chance she gets, Lili is 11 and wanting to go Northern Water Tribe to train with the healers there, and Kallik is 10 and dreaming of being a great military commander like Grandpa Koda and Uncle Sokka - when suddenly Katara starts to get really, really sick. Zuko is absolutely terrified, thinking that there’s something seriously wrong with his wife, but after some deduction, it turns out that Katara is actually pregnant again. The relief at realising she’s not dying is short-lived and the reaction from both of them is basically holy shit holy fuck we are too old for this our other kids are practically all grown up now we are done with babies we can't seriously have six children what are we going to do. There’s a lot of discussion, especially since Katara is 43 by then and the risks for her to be carrying another child are higher, but they ultimately decide to go through with it. Ironically, it’s the easiest of all her pregnancies and when Katara delivers a baby girl in Republic City in 128 AG, there hadn’t been a single complication to speak of. Iroh had passed away two years earlier, devastating the whole family but Zuko in particular, but the baby is born with his irises - a darker gold - so they name her Ilah. Her eyes are big and round like Katara’s but other than that, Ilah resembles her Grandma Ursa most strongly, with her thick chestnut-coloured hair and slight, delicate facial features. Naturally, Katara and Zuko think all their babies were the cutest baby but Ilah is probably objectively the cutest, with her big honey-coloured eyes, chubby cheeks and soft little curls.

Inevitably, since Kai, Shira, Lili and Kallik had all either left home before she was born or did so when she was still a little girl, Ilah gets a lot more concentrated attention from Katara and Zuko. She’s completely spoiled and doted upon by the whole family, including her elder brothers and sisters who visit her as often as they can manage. Since Izumi still lives in the palace permanently as the Crown Princess, she and Ilah are close, but Ilah ultimately ends up being closest with Izumi’s son, Kaz, who is only a year younger than his aunt. Ilah was even in the room when Kaz was born, though it wasn't an intentional move. Zuko was supposed to be watching Ilah when things got intense with Izumi’s labour but things escalated from 0-100 real fast and Katara didn't have time to hand Ilah off, so she stayed tucked in a sling on her mother’s back as Katara helped her eldest daughter to deliver her own baby, somehow sleeping through all the noise and commotion. Ilah and Kaz end up more like a brother and sister or best friends than an aunt and nephew, though Kaz always calls her Auntie Ilah when he’s teasing her. Ilah is perhaps the shyest around strangers of her siblings, uninterested in celebrity and attention, but she’s the most adventurous, determined and creative, interested in science and invention from an early age. Growing up, Ilah felt a little pressured by the renown of her family, especially when her firebending turned out to be just about average in power, but when she’s 12, Ilah figures out that she can combustionbend. From there, she applies her bending abilities to science and when she leaves home for university, she invents the combustion engine at age 20. The rest of her adult life is spent travelling virtually non-stop, working on innovation projects for the different nations. She never has children, on the account that it would be unfair to expect a kid to move around as much as she does and she’s happy enough with her numerous nieces and nephews, but she eventually marries her long-time girlfriend Li-Mei, an Air Nomad tasked with searching the world for new airbenders.

#zutara #katara #zuko #katara x zuko #avatar: the last airbender #steambabies #momtara and dadko

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floatinginwords · 3 years

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Saved by the Devil (13/?) - Thomas Shelby

Summary: Its time for Epsom, what could go wrong? (Sorry about my summaries they are terrible)

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Fem!reader (romantic)

Warning: S*xual Assault There is a scene where the reader is put in uncomfortable position with the general. Reader takes the place of Lizzie in luring the General. And stuff does go down but i was not graphic in writing it cause i was a bit uncomfortable writing anything beyond what i did write and i didn't want to trigger anyone. When the scene does come up i will put a another warning to let you know.

A/N: Hello, this chapter was so so so fun to write. I am so excited for all of you to read and hopefully tell me what you think cause i think this just might be one of my favorite chapters so far... Have a lovely night and see you soon :)

It was time. And for the first moment in your life you were beyond scared. It didn’t show as you got into the back seat the Shelby boys, Arthur and John, in front. No sign of Thomas Shelby anywhere.

“Boys, its good to see you.” You say genuinely. You hadn’t seen them since the last little mission at the horse auction. This time though will be different, you had a lovely knife strapped to your thigh. All your injuries healed and you were beyond prepared for this. You liked the brothers, though you didn’t know them too well. They seemed to take kindly to you too as they nodded at your statement and asked how you were.

The ride felt short. Though it had to have been longer since you were far from London. You didn’t even know what you were thinking about the entire time. You knew that Thomas was waiting for the three of you and more. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face him. The other night when you guys had almost-

You shake your head of the memory. Remembering that you were just a second choice in all this. Grace had rejected him. Then he called you and like a dog you came running. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. But never again would that happen. He didn’t want you and neither did you. And after all this was done, you would never have to see each other again.

You already had word with Trinity, you were leaving tomorrow. Everything was planned and ready to go. Thomas never told you about a new passport or id, you had requested. But you couldn’t wait for him. The nightmares were getting worse and you swore that when you talked on the phone the past week, you could hear breathing on the other line. There was no time to waste, it was time to go.

The two brothers and you head up to the front of the Epsom gates, there you see Tommy Shelby and the rest of the gang. His aunt Polly in attendance eyeing you up and down but no saying a word. Her stare this time not making you nervous, instead you see it filled with curiosity.

“Alright everyone’s, here,” Thomas says not making eye contact with you as he claps his hands together, “here’s the agenda.”

And he takes everyone down to the plan, leaving out of course the part of the assassination of the general. All he says is that he will provide a distraction for everyone in order to take Sabini racetrack licenses. No one asks questions as he finishes the meeting. Everyone scatters to different parts as they enter the races.

“(Y/n)” you hear your name fall out of his mouth. You look at each other and theres a pause. There’s million things unsaid at this moment that you both want to say. But don’t.

“Keep an eye out.” He finally says moving past you, disappearing in the crowd.

And that’s what you do. You keep an eye out. You thought you might have more significance on this day but maybe not. Maybe this is all you get to do. You remember back then when you had worked for your father. The man had always let you in on the action, no matter how dangerous. You didn’t care either because that was life, it was normal for you. Your mother, rest her soul, was the only one who had ever fought for you to stay home, go to school, date and live normal. But she never got her way.

You watched some of the peaky blinder, the ones that you could pin point walk around the arena. They all were tailing some of Sabini’s men which you have seen maybe one or twice. You tried to keep an eye out for Sabini but couldn’t find the man anywhere. You did see an inspector Campbell, the man who had brutally beat you not too long ago. You stare hard at him remembering the moments as if it was yesterday.

“Got a vendetta against the man?”

You turn around and come face to face with Polly, she smokes a cigarette like a royalty into the air. Her eyes never leave the inspectors either. You can see the pain and rage in her eyes. You don’t pry.

You turn your gaze back on the filthy man who walks with his cane, laughing and smiling with the people in the crowd.

“Men like that shouldn’t be allowed to walk on this earth.” You say.

She nods and for a split second there seems to be a connection between the two of you with your shared pain and hatred for the man. You both don’t say anything else as the man leaves out of your views.

Polly leaves first, without saying any other words. You stay in you spot scanning the crowd. Probably taking your job a bit too serious.

You can hear the laughter and cheerful cries of everyone. The experiment in the arena could be felt by everyone. You spot military men in a group together laughing and talking. You know that the tallest one is the general from the photos Thomas had showed you.

You also see a blonde curls and pink hat looking lost among the sea of people. It was a face you had only recently come to known. Grace. You leave your spot feeling the embarrassment from the other night all over again. You wonder around the place feeling bored and just wanting to leave.

“(y/n)?” a tall man who looked to be a preacher came toward you. You had never met him before.

“yes?” you say cautiously, remembering your in a public space, no ones gonna do anything.

“Tommy’s looking for you.” He says.

“what does he want?” you ask. The man just shrugs. And you sigh and follow him through the crowd.

Thomas stands on top of the staircase, looking anxious and pale.

“Found her boss.” The man says leaving you with him.

“Alright, good. (Y/n) come on. And unbutton the first two buttons.” He demands flicking the end of his cigarette he had just finished.

“Excuse me?” you say crossing your arms and standing still.

Thomas stares at you and looks baffled at your disobedience as if this was his first time meeting you.

“Please, (Y/n). I’ll explain inside.” His tone quitter and pleading.

You follow him but don’t unbutton anything of yours. He leads you into a room that looks like only the rich and royalty would eat here. You felt out of place immediately. You both don’t talk as you sit across from one another. You watch him put another cigarette in his mouth. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he talks.

“Look, I didn’t want to ask you this…”

“Just tell me, no need to prolong it.”

“I need you to get him isolated.” You hear his words and double meaning behind them. You can feel your stomach turning in disgust of what’s he asking you. Your face is kept neutral as you talk.

“What happened to following him till he was alone to piss?” You ask

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Look, I’m not-“

He grabs your hand across the table and holds it tightly. It burns but you don’t let go. You stare at your intertwined hands.

“I don’t want you to do this. I don’t want to think of you anywhere alone with him. But right now, I trust you and only you to do this. Please. Or else I’m fucked.”

You wanted to be snarky and petty. You wanted to say “Ask Grace”. You wanted to say screw you and leave. You wanted to slap him or kick him. But you saw the sincerity in his voice. You saw the fear in his eyes that he always seemed to hide.

“okay fine. Ill do it.” You say.

His grip doesn’t soften as he continues to hold you. “Thank you.” He says softly.

Thomas leaves you in the fancy room by yourself. He went over details of where to lure over the general. It was a place that would be very private, no witnesses. Thomas said that he would be there in 15 minutes, he promised that nothing would happen to you. You could tell he wanted to keep that promise but you weren’t sure if he could.

You saw the general at another table with other military men. He noticed you right away. His eye never leaves your figure as you sat by yourself.

‘too easy’ you thought to yourself as the general himself came over to you.

He introduced himself, kissed your hand like a gentleman might, and sat where Thomas was not minutes ago. It was light conversation before you decide to break it. There was no other way to lure him, other than sex. And that what you did. Pretending to be a prostitute wasn't hard. You had been around some your whole life. You knew the lingo and prices and tricks. But not everyone could do it. You knew that. As you took the mans wandering hand off your knee from under the table and guided him away from the fancy room. You took him down hallways and corridors, trying to properly remember the map Thomas had shown you.

*********Warning*********

“Where are you taking me?” The general asks flirtatiously.

“Somewhere private.” You answer.

Finally you found the spot of no witness and people. It was quite and literally no one around. You feel the Generals hot mouth on your neck, biting at you. You fake a giggle at the action but your stomach was turning in disgust. You took a quick glance at your watch. You got here too early. 5 more minutes until Thomas was here.

You can feel the generals fingers wander to the hem of your dress, rushing to pull it up. You push it down and step away from him, laughing a bit nervously at the contact.

“Don’t be a tease now, love.” He says

“I just us to take our time.” You lie and smile sweetly. You had never been in this position before and you were very nervous. You could feel your hands shaking as you tried to gain control hoping to stop it.

“I don’t have time.” The general says grabbing you harshly and turning you around.

“Wait, wait.” You say feeling violated like never before.

You kick him hard in the stomach, causing him to step backward from you. You run to the other wall, wanting nothing but distance from the guy.

“You bitch.” He sneers coming toward you with an ugly smile.

You pull you knife out of your thigh holster and point it toward him. He stops upon seeing a weapon. And then he laughs.

“How adorable.” He says

You glance at your watch again. Its past the time Thomas should have been here. You feel a bit of dread poor over you. You don’t know how you were gonna fight off some military man. Your skills weren’t up to par on his, you knew that. Maybe enough to cause damage and run. Maybe.

He stalks toward you with all the confidence in the world. His face gives it off like this a game for him, he likes that you’re not giving in, that you’re fighting against him. It’s an inconvenience but he likes a challenge.

You step forward, slashing him across the cheek. He doesn’t react to it as he grabs your wrist. His giant hand pushing it back at an odd angle. You try to use your other hand to hit him but it does nothing. You’re forced to drop the knife. He pushes you against the wall. His eyes animalistic and you cry in pain as your head makes contact, hard with the wood.

You see black spots around your vision as you hear the man say something to you, you don’t know what. His hands roam around your body but you focus on anything but. You hear the zipping of pants and your hearts begins to race at the thought of whats to come next. Tears slip down your eyes as you think of no one coming to save you.

“Russell!” You hear a familiar voice yell.

The general leans off your body, you slide down on the wall looking up to see Thomas with his pistol pointed at the general. The gun clicks.

Nothing happens.

“Fuck!” Thomas yells as the General rushes over to Thomas, the pair beginning to fight each other.

You scramble to your feet, feeling awfully dizzy. You see Thomas gun on the floor. The men continue fighting each other. The general trying to reach his gun on his hip.

You take Thomas’s gun aiming it, but nothing was coming out. It was jammed.

You see the general push his finger into Thomas eye, you can see the gun finally in his hand. Thomas knows it too as he grabs at that arm hoping to take it from him. You think fast kicking the general’s legs, making him fall. The gun that was in his hand now on the floor. Which Thomas quickly grabs aiming it right under the generals chin and shooting without hesitation.

The two of you pant heavily as it finally is over. Thomas looks over at you and his shoulder slump.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” you say, forgetting how badly you must look with your tear stained face, “Where were you?”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry,” He reaches a hand toward you wiping away the tears that were still falling, “You’re crying.”

You didn’t know what to say as he strokes your cheek, catching runaway tears that you had no control over. You try to steady your breathing, staring into his steel blue eyes.

“I will never ask you to do anything like that again.” He says.

You nod at his words, touching the hand that’s on your face and gently pulling it away.

“We need to go separate ways. Or else we’re suspects.” You say.

“Meet me by the where- where they take the bets ay?”

He stares at you like he wants to say more but again, he doesn’t. You both walk separate directions. You pick up your knife on the way out, leaving the rest of the crime scene alone.

You walk down the way to the betting place. You can see all the police and military men rushing to where you had just come from. You know the peaky blinders, now, were threatening Sabinis men, burning the licenses at this moment.

You stand by yourself, waiting until you see a familiar face once again. This time she notices you too. The beautiful blonde walks toward you.

“Hello.” She says.

“Hi,” You say, “is youre looking for-“

“I’m not. I’m just here to place my own bet.” She says holding a ticket up.

You both stand in uncomfortable silence.

“I did see him earlier,” She says eyeing you from the side. You look forward as she speaks, “I professed my love, told him I would leave my husband for him and everything.”

You swallow a huge lump in your throat that you didn’t even realize was there. She continues speaking.

“He told me no,” You turn to her baffled as you always assumed, he was head over heels in love with the beautiful Grace, “I mean I known for awhile what his answer would be but I had to give it one last try. Oh don’t look surprised.”

“I- “

“You should count yourself lucky. He doesn’t love too often but when he does,” She takes a pause and her eyes though are focused on you don’t seem to be looking at you. Almost as it she’s lost in a memory. She sighs, “He just really does.”

Before you can say anything else to the woman, she leaves with a smile. A headache begins to form on the back of your head where you had hit your head earlier. You leave the crowded betting room, the noise and smoky air becoming too much for you.

You’ll find Mr. Shelby later. With all that has happened today, it was becoming a lot and you needed a moment to just process it all. As you walk alone you spot two men holding a man by his two arms. He had a cap on like the other peaky blinders. You follow them Noticing another man leading them. You finally see his face.

Your mouth talks before your you can think.

“Thomas!” You cry out.

His head jolts up looking for the source of your voice. The men bring his neck down, keeping his face looking at the ground. All of the worst things begin to swirl around your mind. The plan didn’t work, they caught him, the inspector double crossed him, Sabini had men ready to take him out. As well as moments, the two of you had shared that now were going to be just past memories of what ifs and unsaid words that should have been spoken.

You follow them as best as you can, watch them as they put him in the back of some car, a gun pointed towards him as they close the doors. You couldn’t help him. You watched the car drive away feeling useless and guilty. Wishing to have done more. You see his cap on the ground and pick it up. You look around for someone who could save the day but everyone was in their own happy world. And you were holding on to a hat feeling a loss like never before.

read pt.13b