#it was so funny I almost fell off a cliff with my horse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arlert-angel · 3 years

Text

love fast, die young ☪

♡ jean x fem!reader

❥ you know that at any moment your life could be cut short as a scout, and the last thing you want is to die a virgin, so why not ask your best friend that you’re in love with for some help?

❥ wc: 5.8k

❥ cw: near death experience (reader), virgin!reader and virigin!jean, cannonverse but no plot, loss of virginity, slight size kink, cream pie, aftercare, fluff

❥ note: i was invested in the story of this one lol, it's a lot more romantic than i initially intended. they’re aged up, but the cannonverse details don’t make sense for the plot, so let’s pretend it does yay.

Arriving back from expeditions was always an exhausting feat within itself, sometimes more so than the actual expedition.

Commanding officers had to count their losses, healers had to tend to the wounded, and everyone who was good enough to stand had to report their kills and assists. Of course that was the immediate tasks that needed to take place, but then came the grief. Friends looked for one another, many people cried, and names could be heard shouted all around as everyone arrived at headquarters.

You weren't that different, but you were silent as you scanned the crowd looking for your tall best friend. You knew he was with the best of the best in Levi's squad, so you weren't too worried. However, you also knew the previous best had been wiped out before the new group came.

Anything could happen which made you all the more anxious.

You and Jean were not on the same squad. You first were offered a position on the Levi squad with the rest of your friends, but then Hange handed picked you to help them with their experiments, claiming they needed your mind to work with them. Hange is very likeable and now one of your closest friends, and at the time it seemed impossible to say no to them.

Hange's and Levi's squad tended to work together a lot and definitely trained together, so you didn't miss your friends too much. It was only when expeditions approached and new formations were made, when you had to be separated from the rest of your 104th pals.

You never complained about the separation. It wouldn't last forever, maybe a couple days at most, and then you return to laughing and working with the rest of your friends. You had no complaints until this particular expedition.

You had a close call.

In fact, so close, you might as well have kissed Death on the lips while you were so close to the afterlife.

The mission was going according to plan. It was a simple scouting mission in the mountains that were, for the most part, titan free. Your squad was on the left flank of the formation, near the edge of the mountains. The cliff sides surrounding you guys held a beautiful, yet slightly scary view. The drop had to be at least 300 feet.

You should've known something bad was going to happen as soon as Hange called out, "Hey, Y/N, check it out!" But you weren't thinking that hard, for the day had been so peaceful.

The path you all had taken was so close to the cliffs that the squad was riding single file for safety. There was enough room to pass one another, but you had to do so very carefully.

You rode ahead, passing Moblit. You sent him a questioning look as went by, but he only shrugged, not knowing what Hange was raving over. When you slid off your horse and next to Hange you saw what they did.

A very large cave.

"Should we go inside?" Hange looked at you, clearly excited, but it was an awful idea.

"No!" You tried to sound stern, knowing how they needed a firm rejection or they'd always get what they wanted, "Do you see the size of the thing? This looks like a comfy home for a 10 meter titan, maybe even 15 meter class if they hunched over."

"Do you think they'd crawl around in there?!" Their eyes widened and the familiar look that you've seen so many times on their face appeared. It was their usual expression they had when you conducted experiments with them. You swore to yourself how you fed their curiosity on accident.

"What's going on?" Moblit now arrived, wondering what the hold up was about.

"They want to go inside that death trap," You pointed at the ominous cavern in front of you all.

"You cannot be serious!" Moblit exclaimed in surprise, the volume echoing down the stone and dirt walls. Moblit continued his rant, stating the obvious, but you tuned their debate out. You just stared into what looked like an abyss.

There was no movement, no noise, not even the breeze seemed to reach here.

But for some reason you had a gut feeling. A gut feeling that saved all of your lives.

"Move!" You shoved Hange into Moblit which effectively knocked them both to the side of the cave and used your ODM gear to swing yourself to the opposite side.

The large hand reached out as you tried to get out of the way, but because you helped the others you weren't quick enough.

Luckily, the titan's grasp only managed to get tangled in your ODM wire and couldn’t quite reach your actual body.

Unluckily, the titan was managing to drag you like a ragdoll and if you didn't do anything quickly you would be engulfed in the darkness where it was hidden, and then probably engulfed in it’s stomach.

You had to think quick on your feet and so you drew your blades and slashed the wire on your gear all together. You could've attempted to slash at it's hands, but that was no guarantee. The wire was sliced with a clean snip.

Now you were free, you stumbled back at the loss of momentum. You took one two many steps back, and that last step didn't hit the gravely earth that the others had.

Your foot didn't hit anything at all.

You were about to fall off a cliff.

Ironic to escape death one way only to quite literally fall into its clutches another way.

But, you didn't fall.

Your eyes were squeezed shut in absolute terror, and when you opened them at the lack of free fall, you saw Hange.

They had managed to save you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back on solid ground. Moblit had been keeping the titan at bay, and continued to do so as you and everyone else turned their horses carefully around.

Thanks were shared by yourself, Hange, and Moblit at the different lucky saves. They praised your quick thinking and response. None of you actually saw the titan coming. You just knew. You seemed to recognize the familiar feeling of dread from the presence of a titan that wanted to eat you. Even if you couldn’t see it.

Hange continuously apologized on the way back, but it wasn’t really their fault. It’s not like you actually entered the cave like they wanted. And it was probably a good thing you guys stopped when you did. If the group rode past the cave something worse might have happened.

After that close call you wanted nothing more to find your best friend and have his familiar comfort.

"Y/N? Whatcha still doing out here?" You spun around quickly and saw Connie.

“Oh, hey! I’m just looking for Jean, have you seen him?” You didn’t want to panic, but it was weird to see Connie without Jean.

“Yeah! Mikasa killed this titan that had snuck up right above us and it’s blood got all over Jean it was so funny he screamed like a girl. But yeah, he went to the showers immediately,” Connie explained laughing at the memory. You laughed along and wished you could see it yourself.

“That’s funny, I should probably shower too, this mission felt particularly long,” You grumbled more to yourself than Connie, but he picked up on your off tone.

“Did something happen?” He asked genuinely concerned. You might’ve been closest to Jean, but Connie and Sasha were also very close to you. The four you always had the most fun together, and got in the most trouble.

“Kind of, a titan snuck up on us too, but we were near the cliffs so there wasn’t all lot of room to work with. I almost fell, but on the bright side I overcame my fear of heights,” You laughed, but it was more anxious than joyful.

“Oh shit, that’s awful!” Connie’s eyes widened in horror, “I'll tell Jean to come find you when I see him.”

“What why?”

“You were looking for him right? He’d definitely want to know that you’re okay after that. He worries a lot, you know? It’s always: I hope Y/N okay, where’s Hange’s squad again, I wish Y/N was here, Y/N would love this view. Someone has to tell him to shut up at least once every expedition.” Connie actually did an okay Jean impression as he ranted to you, but you didn’t comment on it.

You were too surprised. You didn’t know Jean worried about you. He never once came to you with any fears about expeditions. He always asked you what happened, but that’s just a normal conversation. It wasn’t too strange for someone’s best friend to think about them when apart. What was strange was the happy feeling you got knowing that Jean couldn’t shut up about you. A weird fluttery feeling danced in your stomach and you felt almost giddy.

Connie noticed your lack of response and noticeably paled.

“Fuck, wait, I didn’t tell you that! Jean’s gonna kill me, Y/N please don’t tell him I told you!” He grabbed onto you, begging. He shook you enough that it got you out of your confusing thoughts.

“Um, okay? I don't see what the big deal is. I think about Jean on expeditions too, that’s not weird right?” You smiled reassuringly and Connie’s whole body sagged in relief.

“Not at all! Have a nice shower!” Connie ran away, actually ran, trying to separate himself from that conversation. He thanked the Walls that you couldn’t read between the lines.

After that odd conversation you got a change of clothes and towel, and then headed towards the showers. You passed Sasha and Mikasa on the way in and they both gave you pleasant greetings, all parties glad to see each other alive and well.

You tried not to overthink, but the hot shower gave you all the time to do so.

Your thoughts jumped from almost dying, to Jean, to these overwhelming feelings you seemed to harbor.

You knew you loved Jean. You both even told each other sometimes. Your mind never wandered further than viewing Jean as your best friend only because you didn’t think that’s what he’d want.

When you first met Jean you had a small crush on him, admiring him from afar until Marco introduced the two of you. Once you grew closer and noticed his infatuation with Mikasa your feelings sizzled out in a bitter simmer. Your bitterness didn’t last long though, you were happy you had someone to rely on no matter what. After Marco passed, Jean was your crutch and vise versa. Romance would only make things confusing and besides you didn’t have any experience in the matter.

But now as you think more and more about him you wondered if those feelings ever went away. You thought about his laugh and stupid tone he gets when he tries to act cocky. You thought about his eyes and how pretty they look in the sunlight. You thought about his ability to read your mind without you having to tell him something’s wrong. He was your person.

You came to the conclusion that there definitely was something more than platonic there, but there was no certainty he felt the same. He would’ve said something by now. When he liked Mikasa he was so obvious, openly talking about her to everyone. You would’ve known something by now if it were the case, right? You knew he didn’t like Mikasa now, he told you explicitly for some reason, stating you needed to know. He also didn’t talk about liking anybody new.

Sighing in frustration, you turned off the shower, now squeaky clean. What was supposed to be a relaxing shower just stressed you out because of your stupid brain’s overthinking.

And it didn’t stop. As you dropped your messy uniform in the laundry, it reminded you of the day.

Today proved that any moment could be your last. Being in the scouts has always been dangerous, and you knew you were a disposable soldier. You didn’t mind it much, but now you realized how little you had experienced. You had never been drunk, your only kiss was with Marco in a game of truth or dare, and you were a virgin.

You didn’t want to die a virgin.

You thought of Jean. You wanted to be with him at least once before you died. You didn’t want to die without knowing how it felt to have everything with Jean. Your love for him definitely wasn’t platonic. You didn’t want to die without him knowing.

Your mind made up, you walked the halls with a little more determination than usual. You wandered around for only a couple minutes before running into Eren.

“Horseface is looking for you,” He pointed around the corner. You gave a quick thanks before quickly going in that direction only to collide with the person you were searching for.

“Y/N!” Jean surprised you by pulling you in a tight hug. As he pulled away he took note of the blush that was now on your cheeks, but didn’t comment. He also didn’t let you go completely, leaving his hands on your shoulders. Unable to help himself.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” You smiled genuinely, only slightly nervous now. Even with the giddiness he gave you, he still managed to calm you down.

“Me too, Connie said something happened with your squad, so I asked Hange about it and they told me everything,” His eyebrows were pulled into a worried furrow, “I wish you were in our squad.”

“Me too, but I like being with Hange too,” You stated honestly, “But it’s alright, everything worked out in the end.”

“Yeah, but you almost fell off a cliff! Y/N if I lost you I’d…” He cleared his throat before shaking himself out of his thoughts, “I’m just glad you’re okay. You said you were looking for me, what for?”

“Oh! Um…” You looked around and saw Eren eavesdropping blatantly with a knowing look, causing you to quickly turn back around, “Can I talk to you in my room about something?” You shift your weight from side to side, visibly jittery.

“Sure?” Jean was confused and noted you looked more flustered than before, but he couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong like he usually could.

You walked side by side, passing Eren along the way who gave you both a smug wave. When Jean wasn’t looking you turned around and gave him the finger. The walk was silent and your hands brushed each other softly.

Once you were behind closed doors you felt yourself relax a little more. It was just Jean, you hyped yourself up. Even if he did reject you the worst thing that could happen is him make a stupid joke out of everything, but you doubt he would. You knew he at least respected you.

“So, what’s so serious that you needed to be away from nosy Yeager?” So he did see that ass listening, you thought.

“Well… You know about my close call today… It got me thinking,” You started safely.

“You can think? Like, there’s a brain in there?” Jean acted surprised and grabbed your head teasingly.

“Shut up,” You laughed and slapped his hands away before adding, “It’s serious.”

“Okay,” He took a seat on your bed comfortably, an action that was not unusual, you hung out in each other’s room all the time. He gave you his full attention, no longer joking around.

“I thought about how at any moment we can die, that sounds morbid, but it’s true. And then I thought about all the stuff I haven’t done and all the things I haven’t said,” You explained further, still not getting to the point.

“So, you want to make a bucket list?” Jean tilted his head, trying to follow, “That’d be fun.”

“No,” You rolled your eyes lovingly, “I, more specifically, thought about all the stuff we haven’t done together.”

“Oh, you want to make a bucket list together!” Jean perked up.

“Jean stop trying to guess and let me explain,” You laughed and he complied, pretending to zip his lips shut.

“Jean,” You approached the man, invading his personal space, “I don’t want to die a virgin, do you?”

“No…” Jean blushed at the sudden topic change, wondering why on earth you were bringing that up right now.

“And… I love you, and I know you'd treat me right,” You cupped his cheeks in your hands. You were standing in between his legs now, him leaning back on his hands looking up at you. He was tall, so he didn’t have to tilt his neck that much.

“I love you too, what are you going on about?” His face was drawn in clear confusion, a cute expression, if he wasn’t being so frustrating.

“No, Jean,” You leaned impossibly close, your face right in front of his, “I’m in love with you.”

Then you boldly straddled him before you planted your lips on him.

You were shy, unsure if he would reciprocate the kiss, and it seemed like he wasn’t. You panicked instantly. Your heart was pounding and you pulled away. You were terrified you screwed everything up. You looked at him and he seemed to be frozen.

“Jean?” You worriedly looked at your catatonic friend whose eyes were wide in shock, “I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry! Please don’t hate me!” You began to try to climb off him, but his hands shot to your hips, holding you in place.

“Y/N, you’re in love with me?” He still seemed to be stunned, or maybe he didn’t believe you, but he held your gaze with serious eyes.

“Yes,” You made sure to keep eye contact despite the heat that rose to your cheeks, to make sure he knew you were dead serious.

“Good,” One of his hands left your hips to your cheek. He guided your mouth back to his.

He was kissing you. He was actually kissing you. It was slow and sweet at first. He stroked your cheek lovingly and your lips slowly moved in sync. It was when you repositioned yourself on his lap, accidently grinding into him, when the kisses started to become more feverish. He groaned into your mouth and the hand left your face and found it’s new home on your ass. He squeezed it harshly, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours. He surprised you when he sucked on your tongue, making a small whimper escape you.

Jean pulled away, taking in your flustered state with blown pupils of his own. Both of your lips were swollen and you both needed to catch your breath.

“I love you too, you know?” Jean pushed some of your hair out of your face with a soft smile, “I figured you didn’t feel the same and wanted to just be friends, so I didn’t say anything.”

“I thought the same, or that you might still like Mikasa,” You admitted shyly, looking down where your bodies met.

“Hey,” He tilted your chin so you held eye contact again, “That was a stupid crush when I was kid, and I told you that ended a long time ago, didn't I? I’m in love with you.”

“We were so stupid keeping it to ourselves,” You laughed and Jean openly admired you in what looked like awe. His gaze made you feel bashful, almost wanting to hide your face with your hands.

“We were, I could have been kissing you so much sooner,” Jean mumbled, already leaning back to you. This time when your lips met your tongues danced together immediately. You knew Jean also didn't have much experience, but with the way he kissed it seemed like he did.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jean pulled away only for a moment to ask before returning right back to your lips.

You pulled away, trying to decipher what he was referring to. "Wha–" Your breath hitched when you felt Jean kiss your pulse on your neck. He began sucking on a particular spot that made you moan, surprising both of you.

"You're so beautiful," He commented then explained, "Did you mean what you said about that virgin stuff?" He seemed shy all of sudden, his hands were sliding from your hips to your thighs, almost like he was trying to soothe himself.

"I meant every word," You said honestly, "I want to experience all of you."

"God," Jean seemed to like that statement, "I don't know what I'm doing, so just know I'm learning as I go. Just tell me what you like and don't like."

"Of course," You gave him a reassuring smile, "I'm not worried, I trust you."

"Good," He said again before spinning you around and lightly throwing you on your bed. He hovered over you, not putting much, if any weight on you. He resumed the make out session, but this time letting his hands wander.

He first tugged at your shirt, which you helped him quickly pull over your head. You hadn't worn a bra, assuming your plans for this evening were eating then just passing out.

Jean seemed to drink your body in, just staring in lust and awe.

"You can touch me," You tried to sound reassuring, but it sounded more like a beg.

Jean took your breasts in his large hands and just felt you. You almost laughed at how mesmerized he looked, but that was when he latched his mouth on your nipple. That action seemed to send a current of electricity straight to the heat in between your legs. You arched your back and let out a surprised moan which made Jean quickly pull away.

"Did I hurt you?" He looked scared.

"No, it feels good," You murmured as you unconsciously rolled your hips wanting friction.

"Oh, that's good," He shot you a grin before throwing his own shirt to the side. He went back to kissing your chest, this time his hand tweaked the nipple he wasn't sucking on, causing even more pleasure. You bit your lip only letting out whimpers, a little embarrassed of moaning so loudly again.

"J-Jean," You stuttered out, gripping his broad shoulders.

"Hmm?" He hummed, he had been having fun leaving purple marks across your tits.

"I-I need…" You didn't finish.

"What do you need, princess?" He asked genuinely, but his deep tone sent shivers down your spine.

"More, I don't know," You admitted.

"Okay, don't worry," He gave you a peck, "I'll take care of you."

He began taking off your pants, helping you get them off your ankles. He stood to take off his own pants as you admired him. His body was so toned from the life of being a soldier. As you took him all in your eyes landed on the bulge that was very prominent in his briefs and for the first time you felt nerves about having sex with him.

"Jean, how the hell is that supposed to fit in me?" You didn't even see it out of it's cage, you couldn't imagine that monster in action.

"It has to fit right? People have sex all the time," Jean looked down at his own dick before looking at your panties with a frown, "I'll make sure to stretch you out with my fingers to help."

"What do you mean?" You blushed as Jean returned his body on top of you, giving you warmth again. This time putting a little more weight than last time. You could feel his restrained cock against you this time.

"You know, fingering, you've done it to yourself before right?" Jean asked curiously.

"I've tried, but I couldn't reach any particular spots that made me feel good, so I mostly just got off with my clit," You explained, a little embarrassed.

"Well, I have long fingers," Jean began to slip off your last item of clothing. You gulped nervously, you now were exposed completely to him.

"So pretty, and you're wet," He groaned and looked back up to you, "Open your mouth."

You almost asked why, but you didn't want to kill the mood, so you complied. Jean slid two fingers into your mouth and you got the message. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks, sucking on them.

"Fuck," He sighed out and you felt him twitch against you.

He pulled his fingers out and moved them back between your legs. He first slowly thrusted one finger inside you, to get you used to the unfamiliar feeling. The stretch wasn't too painful, and he was definitely right. His fingers were longer.

He moved the one finger in and out of you slowly at first, picking up the pace as he continued. When he felt you relax completely he added a second finger. This time the stretch was a little more, making you tense.

"You're so tight," Jean was watching your pussy in wonder and slid his body down, so his face was near it.

"What are you– Oh my God," Jean's lips sucked on your clit softly, then continuously kitten licked it, all while maintaining his finger thrusts.

"You taste good," Jean said it so casually, you'd think he was talking about the weather. He removed his fingers for a moment to get a better taste. He kissed you directly on your cunt before penetrating you with his tongue. He moaned against you, sending vibrations into you. You tried to unconsciously escape the pleasure, your thighs attempting to close, but Jean's large hands held you down.

He returned his fingers inside you and this time adding a third. It stung more than before, but Jean's mouth on your clit made you forget all about the uncomfortableness. He began curling his fingers inside you reaching a spot that instantly had a knot forming in your stomach. Your hands shot around you, one gripping the sheets and the other in Jean's hair.

He latched onto clit again and you gave up on trying to quiet your moans, embarrassment be damned, it felt too good.

"Jean," You moaned his name, which only made him moan back in return, "I-I'm going to…" You whined a little, not quite there yet, but right on the edge.

"You're going to cum?" Jean asked, not even completely pulled away from your clit to do so, "Go ahead and cum on my fingers, baby." He quickened his strokes and returned to your clit. It was just enough to send you over.

You grinded into his hand and cried out. Jean moaned too as if he was being pleasured just at the sight of you or maybe it was because of the sensation of your tight pussy clamping around his fingers. He couldn't help himself and licked up some of your release, making you jump.

He moved back up to you with a content smile, "Did that feel good?"

"Yeah," You smiled back through half lidded eyes, still buzzing from the pleasure.

He gave you a deep kiss and you could taste yourself on him. Tasting your own saccharine flavor was strangely erotic.

Jean pulled away, "Is it alright if I take my cock out?" He asked beforehand just in case you changed your mind.

"Yeah, of course, I want to see the monster that's going to destroy me," You joked and earned yourself a cocky smirk.

Jean took off the only clothing that was separating the two of you. You glanced down and saw his size more visibly now. You were right to be intimidated before, he was huge. Jean seemed to take note of your apprehensive expression so he returned to giving you some kisses in order to soothe you.

“We’ll take it slow and if it’s too much just tell me,” Jean assured you which helped calm you down.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Your eyes met as he began to rub the head up and down between your folds, collecting its wetness. He rubbed it over your clit and back down, making you feel particularly tingly. When he started pushing the head inside you had to remind yourself to not tense up, but it was hard. He was stretching a lot more than his fingers did. His cock added an unfamiliar pressure inside you that his fingers didn’t.

“God, that’s just the head and you're already squeezing me,” Jean threw his head back trying to regain composure. It was also his first time and he did not want to embarrass himself by finishing quickly. Also the gentlemen inside him wanted to feel you cum around him first.

He slowly continued to push further in as you grabbed his arms to brace yourself. When he finally bottomed out you swore you could see the bulge on your tummy. He kept still and waited for you to give him the go ahead even though he had the incredible urge to just thrust forward.

“You alright?” Jean's voice was more strained than usual.

“Yeah, why the fuck you gotta be so big, Jean,” Which only made Jean smile and give an apology kiss. You took a few more moments getting used to the stretch when the pleasure overtook the pain. You felt the veins on his cock inside you. You felt so full, but so good. You grinded into him trying to feel more and Jean noticed.

“I’m going to start moving now,” Jean warned and began pulling back before snapping his hips forward. You both cried out how he filled you up, your walls fluttering around him.

The pace was unrushed and steady to begin with. He withdrew his cock only to plunge it back into you, hitting you deep, in a repetitive matter. You felt the pleasure everywhere, all the way in your toes.

You started meeting his thrusts, moving your hips in order to do so. Jean hitched your leg higher which only made you feel him deeper, hitting a sweet spot that caused you to gasp.

“You can go faster,” You said breathlessly, “Please, Jean, it feels so good.”

“Fuck,” Jean moaned back, his slow deep thrusts turned into a quick pounding. He continuously hit that new spot every time. Your whimpers turned into uncontrollable moans. Not wanting to make too much noise you buried yourself into the crook of his neck, sucking and biting his skin.

You briefly looked down where your bodies met and saw him pumping out of you, your slick covering his cock and your thighs. The sight made your eyes roll back into your head.

“Please,” You moaned into Jean who brought his hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Please, what? What do you want, princess?” He grunted a bit after, not once did he lose his pace.

“I want… Ah… Please, I don’t know,” You felt like you could cry, you were right on the edge. You didn’t know what you needed, but you felt too good to try to figure it out. You figured he was close too by the way he was twitching inside your pussy and his thrusts became a little more desperate.

“Open,” Jean brought his fingers back to your mouth, groaning at the sensation. He kept them there for a few more moments than necessary, just enjoying the way you looked with your pretty lips wrapped around him.

Then he brought them between your legs and began rubbing your clit at the same pace he was thrusting into you.

“J-Jean, I’m gonna cum,” You grabbed his wrist, almost overwhelmed by the feeling.

You cried out his name as your pussy milked him, triggering his own release. He groaned your name as he came. You felt the warmth of him spill deep inside you and it made your pussy tremble all the more. He gave a few final thrusts before slumping on top of you.

“Look at me while you cum, princess, come on, cum on my cock,” He encouraged you. You held eye contact for as long as you could, but when that coil in your tummy snapped you had to squeeze your eyes shut in absolute bliss.

“We definitely should’ve done that sooner,” He mumbled into your hair, making you giggle.

“Definitely,” You echoed back.

He slid out of you after that, making both of your bodies shudder at the loss of connection. You pussy still trying to pulse around something.

“I just showered,” You commented with a frown, looking at the mess between your legs.

“I’ll go get a towel?” Jean offered, and you gave him a nod. He redressed quickly, kissed you deeply, then stated he would be back soon.

You threw your shirt back on while you waited. You felt so sleepy after that. Even though you wanted to feel clean, you wished you cuddled with Jean some more, already missing him.

After a couple more minutes the silence was broken.

“I knew it!” You heard Eren’s familiar voice shout from outside your door and you sat up confused.

“Shut the fuck up before I hit you!” You heard Jean’s voice shout back and then a few more quieter exchanges that you couldn’t make out from the two men. Then your door opened fast, Jean slipping quickly inside, locking it behind him. In one hand he had a warm towel and in the other he had a new set of sheets.

“What happened?” You pointed at the door and Jean scowled.

“Apparently those assholes bet on when we’d finally hook up,” Jean explained before cleaning you up. You blushed as he took care of you. Despite what just took place you still felt embarrassed. Jean noticed and just pecked your cheeks.

“That’s kind of funny, we should’ve placed our own bets,” You hummed and stood shakily, grabbing a new pair of underwear as Jean changed your sheets for you.

“I can’t believe Eren won,” Jean frowned, but when your arms wrapped around him from behind he couldn’t help but smile.

“Will you stay with me? I kind of want to nap,” You mumbled into his back.

“Of course,” You both returned to your bed this time with more innocent intentions.

Jean laid on his back and you threw your arm around his chest and your leg over his, snuggling up into his side.

“I don’t want to die,” You murmured sleepily.

“You won’t,” Jean stated firmly.

“How do you know?” You looked up at him.

“Because we both have something to live for,” He met your gaze softly, before kissing your head again.

You told each other you loved another once again before you both fell asleep. It was a sleep where neither of you had the common nightmare about your untimely deaths.

Instead it was a sleep where you both dreamt of the future you now could have with one another.

#this was so much more fluff than i wanted lol #aot smut #aot #aot jean #jean x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein smut #attack on titan #mikasa ackerman #hange zoe #aot eren #eren aot #connie springer #arlert angel

360 notes · View notes

lesbiansforboromir · 3 years

Note

If a person wanted to write Boromir fic, do you have any tips on how to capture the Tolkieny tone in writing/best scenes to re-read for characterization?

LET ME SEE if I can’t compile a nice guide for you;

First thing’s first! Boromir does not include his own feelings into his statements unless it’s utterly against his will, such as the ring-controlled scene. In fact his discussion with Frodo is the first and last time he expresses his emotions verbally at all and even then it seems to be squeezed out of him in the midst of his ranting ‘how it ANGERS me’ like he is almost shocked at how angry he actually is in that moment, so much so that he can’t hold it back like normal.

‘I am’ statements in general don’t come often either. He doesn’t use ‘I’ at all if he can help it. If he is describing the war or some conflicts or battles, he uses ‘us’ or ‘we’ ‘Some said that it could be seen, like a great black horseman, a dark shadow under the moon. Wherever he came a madness filled our foes, but fear fell on our boldest, so that horse and man gave way and fled. Only a remnant of our eastern force came back, destroying the last bridge that still stood amid the ruins of Osgiliath. 'I was in the company that held the bridge, until it was cast down behind us. Four only were saved by swimming: my brother and myself and two others.’ Here he mentions himself only as an explanation for the circumstances, and goes quickly back to talking as a collective. (This is the first and last time he mentions Faramir too, and never by name)

The times when Boromir uses ‘I’ statements most is for defining his own actions and intent or when he is offering advice. 'I have let my horn cry at setting forth, and though thereafter we may walk in the shadows, I will not go forth as a thief in the night.' He is clear to himself and others about what he will and won’t accept. 'I will add a word of advice, if I may,' said Boromir. 'I was born under the shadow of the White Mountains and know something of journeys in the high places. We shall meet bitter cold, if no worse, before we come down on the other side. It will not help us to keep so secret that we are frozen to death. When we leave here, where there are still a few trees and bushes, each of us should carry a faggot of wood, as large as he can bear.' Note here he is also polite but in a confident manner. ‘If I may’ is added to acknowledge that he is not the leader of the company, but he is not shy with offering his advice and assuming it useful.

When he’s in more familiar and less strict circumstances, and actually sometimes even when he isn’t, Boromir has what I would call a... hint of sarcasm in his tone at all times. He’s always got a little sardonic wit with him, `Let those call it the wind who will; there are fell voices on the air; and these stones are aimed at us.' See? It’s not... OVERT but it’s definitely a little long suffering/etc. Boromir... talks like an old man I guess is my point. 'What do you say to fire?' asked Boromir suddenly. 'The choice seems near now between fire and death, Gandalf. Doubtless we shall be hidden from all unfriendly eyes when the snow has covered us, but that will not help us.' ESPECIALLY when he’s talking to Gandalf, there’s just a bit of dark humour and ‘cheek’. `I do not know which to hope,' said Boromir grimly: `that Gandalf will find what he seeks, or that coming to the cliff we shall find the gates lost for ever. All choices seem ill, and to be caught between wolves and the wall the likeliest chance. Lead on!' jhadsjd BITCHY... but very funny and he’s right. And here also, ‘wolves and the wall’, he tends towards almost... poetic isn’t quite the word but he likes sayings and flowing dialogue.

Continuing on from that point, Boromir is also generally... not WARM but he’s got a way of speaking that is comfortable and confident in comradery. Especially with Gimli, actually, he often makes these lighter sighed statements that have a lick of humour to them. Again, it’s never particularly overt, more of a constant underlying note in his wording, even in the latter parts of the fellowship. `Ah, it is as I said,' growled Gimli. 'It was no ordinary storm. It is the ill will of Caradhras. He does not love Elves and Dwarves, and that drift was laid to cut off our escape.' 'But happily your Caradhras has forgotten that you have Men with you,' said Boromir, who came up at that moment. `And doughty Men too, if I may say it; though lesser men with spades might have served you better.’ This is one of my favourite lines of his it’s just like... confident, not over proud, you can hear him grinning and the leetle wry tone he’s speaking in. Even here! In like the very last days of his life, he still has this quality!

We might labour far upstream and yet miss it in the fog. I fear we must leave the River now, and make for the portage-way as best we can from here.' `That would not be easy, even if we were all Men,' said Boromir. `Yet such as we are we will try it,' said Aragorn. 'Aye, we will,' said Gimli. `The legs of Men will lag on a rough road, while a Dwarf goes on, be the burden twice his own weight, Master Boromir! ' (later) 'Well, here we are, and here we must pass another night,' said Boromir. `We need sleep, and even if Aragorn had a mind to pass the Gates of Argonath by night, we are all too tired-except, no doubt, our sturdy dwarf.' Gimli made no reply: he was nodding as he sat.

AND ANOTHER THING. Whilst Boromir CAN be an orator and give long speeches, he tends towards economy of speech. This is especially noticeable, again, between him and Gandalf. Gandalf will go on for three paragraphs about something, patronising him, explaining a lot of unnecessary stuff to sound clever. And then Boromir will just answer with; `We do not know what he expects,' said Boromir. `He may watch all roads, likely and unlikely. In that case to enter Moria would be to walk into a trap, hardly better than knocking at the gates of the Dark Tower itself. The name of Moria is black.' And that’s it! AND HE’S FFUCKIN RIGHT GGSHAHGS

So you’re usually going to be trying to narrow down his speech to it’s bare essentials in order to get the point across and nothing more. Stream lined, impersonal, confident and clear are the hallmarks of Boromir’s speech patterns. NO. SHOUTING. Unless to be heard or in a brief flash of shock, immediately restrained afterwards. Actually if Boromir has any kind of outburst, he tends to walk away from whatever situation caused it rather than allow anything to escalate. Boromir’s verbal tone is almost always neutral, wry or reassuring/comfortable. From experience, I can tell you this is... GRUELLING to write. You want so desperately for him to say what he’s thinking and feeling, what’s important to him, but he’s utterly incapable unless briefly possessed by evil. Not even when he’s literally dying will this change, though that might be because it was Aragorn at his deathside. Which brings me onto my final point.

We actually have no idea how Boromir might interact with people he actually likes and is friends with, let alone his family. I’m inclined to believe that warm comradery element just becomes more overt but little else changes. But you’re entirely at liberty to decide for yourself. Certainly though it is different from how he behaves throughout the fellowship. We never really meet Boromir... is a thought I can hardly bare so we’re STOPPING now.

#boromir #chats #erran vs tolkien #lotr #tolkien #rescue-ram #asks

123 notes · View notes

azucanela · 4 years

Text

[HOME] IS WHERE THE AVATAR IS [PT.3]

HOME MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Iroh has been kidnapped, and by the time they get him back, they’re chasing after the Avatar before Y/N has time to unload all her problems to the old man over a nice cup of tea. Which is a shame since the list of problems is getting longer by the minute.

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: violence, mentions of death, threats

A/N: woo!! its 1AM lads life is good and i hope this is also good <3

Iroh was missing. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, the old man, no matter how questionable he was at times, was punctual. Y/N had yet to see him late to anything and she sincerely doubted he was going to start now, especially since Zuko had reminded him, rather rudely, that they had to leave soon if they were to catch the Avatar. Following Zuko through the forest, Y/N quickly realized that Zuko was not a genius.

Of course, if Zuko was a genius, Y/N wouldn’t be around. Her whole purpose since she’d been in the Fire Nation was to serve as his right hand, to be the things he couldn’t. If Zuko couldn’t do something, then she would, thats why they complimented each other so well. When he’s incapable of fighting, she beats enemies with ease. Where he lacked a strategic mind, she could develop revolutionary strategies, similar to the ones Zhao had referred to during their last encounter.

The man had clearly gotten under Zuko’s skin, and it seemed something about this was still bugging Zuko. Y/N had noticed his... odd behavior. He’d seemed far more withdrawn than normal, their late night talks had been far less frequent than normal. Of course, they were also no longer in the privacy of the ship, instead camping out in war torn territory of the Earth Kingdom. This left a weird atmosphere between them, and it was mostly Zuko’s fault, though Y/N probably should’ve confronted him when she first noticed. She was beginning to miss their conversations, and the more relaxed Zuko that only she saw. Now, it seemed that each time they interacted he was becoming far more awkward than normal.

Sighing as she trailed behind him, and calmly walking throw the brush of leaves in stark opposition to Zuko’s rather aggressive walk, Y/N simply sighed. “Zuko, perhaps you would get there faster if you didn’t spend all your time fighting the trees.” She gives him a sarcastic smile, eyes narrowing at him as he turns back to look at her, as though he’d finally been reminded she was nearby.

Zuko frowns, coming to an abrupt stop, “come here.” They were nearby the ‘hot spring’ Iroh had discovered, or more accurately, made. In the event that Y/N was wrong, a ‘rare’ event in her words, Zuko needed to take precautions, he would not allow Y/N to see his Uncle like that.

“Why?” Y/N asked incredulously, moving to enter the area, but Zuko yanks her back by the wrist.

She turns to look at him, just to have her eyes covered by his hand, “just in case.” He explains, taking her hand in his free one and guiding her to the hot spring. Zuko is suddenly glad that he has a hand over her eyes, because if Y/N could see him, she definitely would’ve started teasing him by now, especially since he can feel his cheeks burning as he pulls her along.

“I think you just wanted and excuse to hold my hand.” Y/N teases, a grin spreading across her face. Zuko had always been like this, protective, even when they were children and as far as he knew, she was anything but his equal. Y/N had always found it funny, seeing as she could easily handle herself in a fight, not that this fact ever stopped him.

Though she can’t seen Zuko, Y/N has a feeling he’s blushing as he grumbles out, “shut up.” He’s pushing through the final bushes, and when he freezes Y/N knows her theory was right. Zuko’s hand releases hers and Y/N dislikes the way she feels disappointed when it does, his other hand falling from her eyes to reveal the once prosperous hot spring was now sullied by raised earth.

Iroh is missing. And Y/N can’t help but feel worried as she stares at the scene, if the apparent Earthbenders caught him by surprise it’s no wonder he didn’t escape. Iroh, no matter how docile he may act, was a force to be reckoned with. Now it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was Earthbenders, which probably explains why Zuko points it out so quickly.

Or maybe he just doesn’t need Y/N anymore. The thought brings about an odd feeling, one that Y/N can’t describe. She’d been by his side for as long as she could remember, and the thought had never crossed her mind, that one day she might not be by his side, one day he might not need her anymore. The possibility was bringing about several emotions, and now she was missing the one person she’d go to for counsel.

Counsel she definitely needed at the moment, seeing as she’d intertwined their destinies, as Zuko put it, permanently. There would be no getting rid of her.

Her list of problems was growing by the minute, and Y/N finds herself wishing that it was her list of excuses instead, seeing as she was going to need several excuses if he found out anytime soon. Iroh was missing, taken by Earth Kingdom soldiers, likely to be executed in the very city he’d once tried to overthrow. And Y/N had yet to even get any idea of how to handle Airbending, much less tell Zuko about it. Not that she could if she wanted to, seeing as he’d been avoiding any prolonged conversations with her.

And yet Y/N find herself grabbing Zuko’s hand, bringing his attention back to her and away from the thought of his missing Uncle, the man who had practically raised him. Though Zuko didn’t act like it, he cared for Iroh, and Y/N could see it in the way his body stiffened as he cursed his Uncle for his foolishness. “Everything is fine.”

This was a mess. Nothing was fine. Everything was pretty chaotic, actually.

That’s how Y/N ended up riding a Komodo Rhino in search of the old man, Zuko seated behind her as they made their way down the path. He was honestly way more stressed about the situation than he should’ve been, his Uncle was once a war general, he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Except, Zuko found the fact that he’d been captured in the first place rather concerning, especially since the man seemed to be more and more passive each day.

Zuko blamed the tea.

Though he found himself wishing for tea to calm his nerves as they the Komodo Rhino stumbles slightly, causing Zuko to fall off the animal entirely. This was mostly because he was far too awkward to place his hands anywhere near Y/N’s body, despite her warnings that something like this would happen.

Y/N brings the beast to a stop, dust rising as she maneuvered the animal towards Zuko, followed by guards that she was sure were struggling to stifle their laughs as Zuko grumbled, “go ahead and say I told you so.” He’s practically glaring at Y/N, who dons an amused look on her face as she stares down at him.

“Told you so.”

Zuko groans, allowing his head to hit the ground momentarily, wincing at the feeling before moving to stand, only to notice a shoe on the ground. One that he recognizes as his Uncle’s. Moving to pick it up, Zuko grins despite the putrid smell as he extends his hand outward to try and escape it. “I fell on purpose to retrieve this.” He couldn’t help but feel relieved, hopefully this was a sign from his Uncle, and he’d dropped the shoe on purpose.

Y/N is laughing now, “sure you did. But this is good, Iroh is probably nearby.” Her eyes scan the area, hoping to find some other indication of Iroh’s presence, Y/N notices the fading trail of Ostrich Horse tracks. “We should head in this direction,” she turns to Zuko, who is dusting himself off and climbing back onto the Komodo Rhino, “hold on this time.” Y/N says, giving him a tight lipped smile as she brings his hand to her waist, trying to ignore the way her cheeks warmed.

She whistles, signaling for the Komodo Rhino to begin to move again, while Zuko begins to panic internally. His hands were on Y/N’s waist, and he was trying to keep his touch as light as possible so as not to disturb her, but the way she glared at him suggested he should stop freaking out. Alas, the blush that painted his cheeks persisted as he wrapped his arms around her waist to keep from falling, that was the only reason he wrapped his arms around her. It wasn’t because he missed being around her— of course the lack of her presence was mostly his fault since he was avoiding her.

Regardless, Y/N almost falters at this action, almost, at the feeling of his hands resting on her. It’s been a while since they were this close to each other, and Zuko had no choice to endure it. But, it’s the sight of a dragon along with the Avatar in the sky that causes her mouth to gape open, distracting her from steering the Komodo Rhino away from the upcoming cliff.

Zuko throws his hands forward, snatching the reins from her as he swerves the animal away from the cliff, his body enveloping Y/N’s as he breathes heavily from the sudden event. “What the hell was that?” He exclaimed, hands remaining on the reins as he continued to maneuver the animal. Though the look on Y/N’s face worries him as she nods absently.

“Nothing, it was nothing.”

Nothing didn’t cause you to nearly go off a cliff. But he’d discuss that with her later, he decided, noticing the Avatar’s Sky Bison flying through the sky. “The Avatar!” Zuko called out, bringing the Komodo Rhino to a stop entirely as he watched the Sky Bison fly across the sky.

His words brought Y/N’s attention back to the present, her eyes snapping over to the Sky Bison. Zuko may not have known it, but Aang definitely wasn’t on that Sky Bison, or maybe his body was. Y/N didn’t know how the whole spirit thing worked, and if she was honest, she wasn’t really to eager too find out. Regardless, it would be a pointless chase.

Yet she suddenly felt worry fill her, because Y/N truly didn’t know if Zuko was willing to abandon his Uncle if it meant capturing the Avatar and restoring his honor. Would he do that to her? Abandon her entirely if it meant going back to the Fire Nation? Sure, he’d left behind the possibility of returning when they’d discovered her Waterbending, but with his renewed determination Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if she would get left in the dust as he chased the Avatar across the globe.

The thought left her mouth dry as she looked to Zuko, who had paused, eyes following the Sky Bison. Then he scowled, hands still on the reins of the Komodo Rhino as he whistled, steering the animal in the direction of the fading Ostrich Horse prints.

Y/N couldn’t help but feel flooded relieved, but that didn’t quell the anxieties within her. She’d seen... an intangible Avatar and dragon, as though they were ghosts, spirits even. This was a brutal reminder of the Avatar’s duty to bridge the worlds of spirit and human, Y/N had only read stories of the Avatar’s ability to enter the realm and interact with them. It was an ability she thought she lacked, until now.

This was a problem. A very big problem.

Letting out a shaky breath, Y/N shut her eyes momentarily, “what’s wrong?” Zuko asked, her behavior was abnormal, she was distracted and Zuko didn’t have time to worry about her, his Uncle and the Avatar.

Hesitantly, Y/N relaxed against him, her back resting against his chest as she frowned, “later.”

“Right.” Comes his response, and Zuko’s face was burning as he cleared his throat before continuing to guide the Komodo Rhino in the direction of the tracks.

They don’t discuss it later, mostly because ‘later’ is when Zuko finds himself saving his Uncle, and then threatening villagers for the Avatar’s location while Y/N threatens him for his violence. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, much to Y/N and Iroh’s dismay.

If Y/N was honest, she wasn’t shocked that they didn’t have time to discuss it. Seeing as they didn’t discuss the fact that she was capable of bending multiple elements, confrontation was certainly not their strong suit, and the fact that everything seemed to revolve around the Avatar wasn’t helping. At this point, home was wherever Aang went.

What Y/N would give for a conversation with Aang right about now, not that she knew what to say. He had no idea what she was capable of, and yet Aang seemed to be the only person who would likely understand even a fraction of what she was going through.

Barreling through the Fire Nation barricade, filled with ships that Y/N recognized from General Zhao’s fleet, it appeared Y/N would be giving her life just to see Aang again. She was beginning to think that this was the worst idea Zuko had ever had, and she’d been there for a lot of foolish ideas. Especially since there was no reason for Zhao to let Zuko pass, unless he needed something, that something was likely the Avatar. Y/N was pretty sure she needed him too, now that her Airbending at shown itself, accidents were becoming more... frequent, and hiding it from Zuko and more importantly, the crew, was far more difficult.

Aside from control, Y/N couldn’t deny that Aang’s abilities were impressive, watching him block a ball of fire surging towards his Sky Bison had been a sight to behold. And she couldn’t help but consider how insane it was, that she was seeing the only Airbender left, the only demonstration of Airbending in over one hundred years.

Poor kid. He’d come back to a mess of a world.

Y/N finds herself frowning at the thought, and at the possibility of Zuko departing on another ship to go after Aang, who appeared to be heading for the Fire Sage’s temple, “are you serious?”

Zuko is rolling his eyes at her tone, already boarding the ship as he turns to her, “are you coming, or not?” He’s taking the helm as Y/N’s mouth gapes open, struggling for words, she follows him onto the ship nonetheless.

“This could go very wrong.”

He grins at her, and the smaller ship begins to move, hidden by the smoke of the larger one, “that’s why I have you around.”

Y/N really wanted to wipe the grin off his face as she sat on the bench that was against the railing of the ship. Crossing her arms, she glared at him as she leaned back, eyes on the crashing waves below. It’s rather calming, especially when compared to the harsh environment they’d been living in while moving through the war torn Earth Kingdom territory. She’d gotten used to falling asleep to the rocking of the boat during their years of travel. Maybe that’s why Y/N’s eyes begin to flutter shut as the boat begins to move once more.

There’s a dragon. Why is there a dragon?

The sight of the beast serves as a reminder of the tattoo she’d seen in her previous ‘dream’ though Y/N can’t help but wonder if they were a little more than that as she stares at the dragon. It looks exactly like the one she’d seen Aang riding not too long ago.

This was a dream, great.

Rolling up her sleeve, the tattoo is there, the black and white dragons snaking up her arm, parallel to each other. Y/N finds herself returning her gaze to the real dragon, which probably should’ve shocked her more, except there was a reason she was a talented Firebender.

Whenever a Firebender sought out to earn the title of Dragon, they needed a witness, someone who saw the defeat of the Dragon and could serve as proof of the event. The Dragon of the West, otherwise known as Iroh, had selected the young and impressionable, Y/N L/N, viewing it as a learning experience for the young girl. Y/N thought she was going to see the end of the species, not it’s salvation, and perhaps that’s why she was the way she was.

Nothing could compare to what she’d seen in that fire, alongside Iroh.

The dragon before her looks angry nonetheless, almost annoyed at her presence as though it wasn’t the weird thing about this whole dream, a translucent blue color, like this was completely normal.

Y/N ends up glaring at the dragon as she asks, “what do you need?” And as though it can sense her own annoyance, the dragon releases a low growl in response, letting out a huff of flames onto Y/N that almost has her screaming in fear as she squeezes her eyes shut in preparation for death. Could you die in a dream? Y/N didn’t really want to know seeing as normal dreams didn’t involve historical events like her last one did.

She opens her eyes to see the flames dissolving around her, but she’s in an entirely new area. If Y/N is honest, it looks similar to the palace she grew up in. Fancy pillars line the room, along with a few murals on the walls.

This must’ve been what the dragon had flown Aang to when they were... spirits? Y/N didn’t know, nor did she understand much as she carefully moved around in the room, in the middle of it lied a statue of Avatar Roku, she recognized him from history books. The Fire Nation’s greatest enemy, that had once been its pride and joy.

The dragon still stood in the room, behind her now, staring almost judgmentally at her, Y/N turns to it nonetheless, “this is what you showed Aang.” A huff in what she hoped was agreement, “I need to be here too.” She deduced, staring the the doors that lied behind the dragon.

It seemed satisfied with this deduction, and Y/N decided to continue, “mind explaining the tattoo?” She gestures to her arm.

In response, the dragon allowed more fire to escape its mouth, causing Y/N to bring her arms up to shield her face as she yelped in surprise when she became engulfed in flames.

Y/N flinches in her seat, head whipping back and forth as she scans the area, just to realize they made it to the island. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

Stupid dragon.

Y/N nods slowly, hand gripping her arm, which burns, and she’s unsure if that’s because she literally got burnt in the dream, or because of the tattoo. Y/N can’t help but let out a shaky breath as she blinks a few times, eyes adjusting to the light as she sits up, “yeah.” She mumbles, pulling up the sleeve of her Fire Nation clothing just to find her blank arm. No tattoos, just how she’d left it. She can feel Zuko’s eyes rest on her as she does, likely in confusion.

Regardless, this is good. There’s no tattoo. Sure, Zuko probably thinks she’s insane, but who cared what he thought?

“I don’t understand how you feel asleep.” The boy in question grumbles, “have you not been sleeping?” It’s his own way of showing he cares, an insult followed by a question about her wellbeing, Y/N is used to it at this point, but this time around she can’t help but feel sad, knowing he formed this habit because of his childhood. Things had been different once. He’d been different once.

As Zuko helps her out of the boat, taking her hand to help her step down and off of it, Y/N replies, “not really.”

His brows furrow at this, “why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N is opening her mouth to respond only for an explosion to sound within the temple, tearing his attention away from her.

What a nice reminder that she wasn’t the priority. Again.

Maybe it was stupid for her to want to be his priority in the first place, because he was definitely her priority. She’d left the life, the luxury, everything she’d built in the Fire Nation after having her life torn down, just to rebuild everything again at sea, for him. And he didn’t even have to ask her to, he didn’t have to ask her to have that horrid conversation with his father that she hoped he never found out about, and he didn’t have to ask her to just be there.

Then again, it had been drilled into her mind to protect and serve Zuko since she was a child. Maybe none of this was real, maybe Y/N didn’t actually care about Zuko, maybe it was just another one of the things she’d been brainwashed to believe by the Fire Nation. Maybe the days they’d spent together as children, the nights they’d spent now, the time at sea, maybe it meant nothing.

No, this was different. This was different and Y/N knew it, she just didn’t want to admit it. This was another thing on her list of problems now.

Y/N brushed these thoughts away as they mind their way through the temple, she didn’t have time for this, the horrifying dragon had given her a task and she was going to see it through. She needed to get into the room, and if Y/N had learnt anything, it was that wherever Aang was, that was probably where she had to be as well.

As they enter the room the explosion had come from, Zuko spares her a glance, bringing his hand to his lips as he nods to her. Aang is hidden behind a pillar as the Fire Sages set the door alight, causing it to slowly move upon, the gears within working for what was likely the first time in a century. It’s then that the rest of his friends strike, restraining the Fire Sages, one of them even betraying his colleagues as they call out for the Avatar, “Aang! Now!”

But Zuko’s already captured the boy, ensuring he can’t head into the now open doors and providing the distraction that was vital to the escape of the other Fire Sages, he called out, “shut the doors!”

Y/N has about half a dozen thoughts in her head as she wonders how she’ll get into the room if they close the doors, because as much as she hates the whole Dualbending— Tribending thing, she needs answers. Which is why she’s thankful when Aang manages to escape Zuko’s grasp without her aid, though Y/N’s feet seem to move on their own as she chases after him.

The bright light is almost blinding, but she can hear the doors shut behind her as she lands rather painfully on her side, pushing up on her arm to see Aang staring at her in shock. This quickly morphs into a smile, “hey, Y/N!” His brows furrow as he tilts his head at her, “what are you doing in here?”

Moving to her feet, Y/N grimaces as she dusts off her pants, “I was threatened by a dragon.” Aang’s face becomes one of shock, but before he can respond, something akin to thunder sounds through the room, light shining onto the stone on the statue of Roku. “What the-”

A fog starts pouring out of the statue’s mouth, swirling around the pair that lock eyes once more before Y/N finds herself atop a mountain, falling onto the ground and groaning in pain. Y/N brings a hand to her face to shield it from the bright light that is the sun? Or maybe its a fake sun seeing as this can’t possibly be real, not that it matters as she places her hand in the grass to push herself upwards, just to meet the eyes of the infamous Avatar Kyoshi.

Oh god.

“So you’re the mistake.” She mused, scanning Y/N’s figure. She had read about Avatar Kyoshi, and from what she had gathered, she had by far been one of the most powerful Avatars to ever exist. And one of the most violent.

Pushing away these thoughts to try and calm herself, Y/N simply frowned at the Avatar’s words as she moved to stand, the strikingly tall woman was already intimidating, her tone and history was not helping. “You could’ve been nicer about it... but yeah.” Y/N agreed, recalling her conversation with Iroh. She was just nature’s lovely mistake.

“Interesting.”

Y/N grimaces, steadying herself as she speaks, “there are probably lots of other... mistakes, so why am I here?” Iroh had spoken of the likelihood that there were others around the world, and Y/N herself had heard the rumors of Dualbenders across the globe in their search for the Avatar. She wasn’t special—well, she was definitely special, but at the end of the day she wasn’t the Avatar.

Kyoshi narrows her eyes at Y/N’s words, scoffing, “don’t tell me you’re dumb.”

“You are just as nice as they said you were.” Y/N grumbles, bringing a hand to the back of her neck, “care to answer my question?”

Raising a brow, the woman’s glance turns to the sky, “you are the mistake.” Kyoshi replies, “the only mistake of this cycle. The others have all be fakes.” Y/N can practically feel the disgust in Kyoshi’s words, and she doesn’t know if its because people lied about being Dualbenders, or if its because they exist in the first place. Not that she wants to know.

But what she implies rings through Y/N’s head as she speaks, “I still don’t matter. There’s a perfectly good Avatar already.” If Y/N theoretically was another Avatar, what purpose could she serve? They had an Avatar, one that was far more moral than she ever was, one that was ‘hero’ material. Iroh had also suggested that if there was only one ‘mistake’ then they were likely powerful, which could explain the possibility of Y/N being another Avatar.

Inhaling deeply, Kyoshi’s eyes fall back on Y/N as she says, “I have a feeling that when push comes to shove.” Her hand form a fist, “he will fail to do what is necessary. You on the other hand...” She trails off, her hand unclenching as she continues, “your Fire Lord seeks world domination, and it is disrupting the balance. You were made because the boy’s disappearance worsened the unbalance.”

“He’s not my Fire Lord.” Y/N grumbles, running a hand through her hair, “so what do you want me to do?” She asks, cutting to the chase, there’s no point in hopping around the subject. She’d been summoned for a reason.

Kyoshi offers her a smile, though Y/N can tell its not a friendly one as she speaks, “I chose to speak with you because you have yet to Earthbend and still, you remind me most of myself.” She raises a hand to the sky, and it darkens into a red hue as she explains, “Ozai will use Sozin’s comet to carry out his goal unless he is stopped. And you are progressing far quicker than the newest Avatar.”

The comet that aided in the destruction of an entire race, Y/N was familiar. Firebenders became unbelievably powerful during its appearance, and it would serve as the perfect opportunity for an invasion.

Y/N would know, seeing as she suggested it. She recalled the conversation in the War Room vividly, during a discussion on how they could defeat the Earth Kingdom in a quick manner. It was the first time she had outshone General Zhao, but not the last.

“You’ll have no choice but to work together, you must learn Airbending from someone, and there are no other teachers around.” Y/N can practically feel the woman’s anger, and wonders if it truly belongs to her, if she understood the Avatar Cycle properly then they were all connected somehow.

Y/N really wished this was a dream. But, this wasn’t a dream, and the fog seemed to swirl around her once more was a reminder of this fact, “Aang is the Avatar. He can handle this alone, I’m not getting involved..”

There’s a knowing look on Kyoshi’s face, and as she fades away Y/N can hear her final words, “you don’t really mean that.”

And Y/N had a feeling that she was right. A feeling that she absolutely hated.

A/N: anyways i wanna cut like at least six inches of hair and get bangs oh no also KYOSHIIIIIIII THE BADDEST BEST AVATAR writing this made me happy

TAGLISTS[lmk if you want to be added or removed via askbox or reply]

ATLA: @bubblebars @jada-cleo @Art-flirt @the-deli-meat @wemissyou3000 @ajediherowitchrunner @1-800-schmacked @the-firebender-girl @bucky-blogs @shawkneecaps @astroninaaa

ZUKO: @outerxorbit @lil-lex1 @boxofteenageideas @izzieserra @eridanuswave @royahllty @bigbuckyenergy @celamoon @savemesteeb @coldlilheart @shephard17895 @ijustwannabecanadian @duh-dobrik @anime-simp @lammello @coldlilheart @curious-trickster

HOME: @toobsessedsstuff @x-a-delama-x @haylaansmi @a-hopeless-fan @danicalifxrnia @lolaywrites @pretty-marlene @swagdaddycam @zukosvice @youngoperatorflapgoop @onesmokinbabe @astralsaf @creation-magician @fangirlingbookworm1 @Thenoblenomad @ravngers @micharamp @reclusive-chicken-nugget @jj-maybanks-wife

#zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #prince zuko x y/n #prince zuko x you #zuko atla x reader #atla zuko x reader #prince zuko atla x readder #atla prince zuko x reader #atla #avatar the last airbender #lok #legend of korra

522 notes · View notes

isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years

Text

Take Everything From Me | Caspian x Reader

Warnings: Arguments, Jealousy, Mention of battle, A few cuss words

Time/Era: Prince Caspian

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Caspian is jealous because of Y/N’s newfound love for high king Peter Pevensie

Request: hi!! first of all i love your writing and thank you so much for saving time to write for us💜 also can you please write a Caspian imagine where reader is his best friend since childhood and while they're having a heated fight about his fight with Peter in the second movie (the reader is trying to explain that they're both wrong), he angrily (because of jealousy maybe?) confesses his feelings and they end up kissing?? pretty please?? lots of love✨

A/N: Thank you for such a nice compliment and for acknowledging the time I spend on my fics! Each imagine usually takes me 1-4 hours (depending on the length) and it’s super fun! I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting! If anyone would like me to write for them (Edmund, Caspian, Peter and some Harry Potter characters) send a request my way :)

masterlist | read on ao3

Prince Caspian was a stubborn, natural-born leader; he had to be. He was raised with harsh expectations and responsibilities due to his bloodline. Because of this, the young prince never had many friends, especially any outside of his bloodline. Y/N L/N was the only exception. She was the daughter of the highest knight in their army, so she was entrusted within a close proximity of the royal family. She was under the same care as Caspian since they were very young, and the two grew to be inseparable.

When the wife of Miraz, Prince Caspian’s uncle, gave birth to a boy and Caspian was threatened to be assassinated, their beloved professor awoke Y/N first. He was in a tizzy and insisted Y/N grab anything she needed in case she was to never return. Confused, but with haste, Y/N packed up her belongings and followed the plump man out of her chambers. She and Prince Caspian had barely made it out of the castle before arrows were being shot at their backs.

“Hold on tightly,” Caspian directed Y/N’s arms to fall around his waist as they rode out of the castle. He sounded out of breath and panicked when he spoke, something Y/N had never heard from him.

“My Prince, they’re gaining on us,” Y/N responded, her voice shrill and strained. Her hands gripped the stiff leather of his chest piece as the horse twisted every which way. Caspian didn’t respond, but instead took one of his hands and placed it over hers.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever grow fond of them,” Caspian grunted, digging a small knife into a wooden stick. He wasn’t whittling anything, nor sharpening anything, but he needed something to keep his hands busy. He observed how the wood splintered into thin curls and how those curls fell onto the forest floor.

“Who? The Kings and Queens of Old?” Trufflehunter responded. The two were sat a distance away from the rest of the group. They were all talking animatedly around a small fire and sharing stories from the past. King Peter seemed to be very invested in whatever tale Y/N was sharing. Caspian stabbed the wood in hand.

“Yes, the Kings and Queens of Old. I thought he was supposed to be magnificent, I’ve heard so many stories.” Y/N reached out and pushed King Peter playfully. He grasps the girl’s wrists and pulls, making her fall forward. The entire camp laughs as she stumbles into Peter. A growing fire develops in Caspian’s stomach and with one flick of his knife, half of the stick falls to the floor.

The badger watches the wood and looks up at Prince Caspian, “Are you disappointed in them? Or just in King Peter?”

“They are much younger than I expected. Much more boastful than I expected.”

“You are also quite young, your highness.”

“Not within the mind, Trufflehunter.” Caspian glances back at the group. King Peter was acting out something using his sword. He had also taken off his armor, leaving him in a loose-fitting shirt and trousers. Y/N looked enthralled as the boy sliced the air with the sharp blade. Caspian’s jaw clenched and he looked back at Trufflehunter.

“See what I am talking about? He is dueling when there is no one to duel! He’s showing off his skills when it is not necessary to use them. And I have to follow his commands.” Trufflehunter placed a paw on the thumb of Caspians right hand, stopping him from slicing his skin in place of the wood.

“And you will be no better without a hand.”

The invasion of the Telmarines went awful. Caspian insisted Y/N stay behind with Lucy, but of course, High King Peter had spoken up.

“No, she needs to come. She’s a valuable soldier. I know because we’ve sparred. We’d be wasting a valuable resource if she stayed behind.” A smile graced Y/N’s face as she made eye contact with Peter. Caspian let out a shaky breath and his grip on the hilt of his sword tightened.

“She’s also close to the majority of the Telmarine Knights. They know her weaknesses. They know all of our weaknesses, this is a bad idea.”

“Which also means I know their’s. Cas, loosen up. I’m going.” Y/N still had a smile on her face.

Peter took hold of her wrist and tugged it gently. “Can you cover my back? I know they’re going to try and overpower me.”

Y/N’s cheeks heated up and she nods shyly. This made Caspian’s blood boil. Not knowing what to do, he makes eye contact with Edmund. The young king rolls his eyes.

When they returned, there was a sorrow surrounding the surviving warriors. There was little speech and the only sound heard was the metal of their armor rubbing against itself as they walked. Y/N had experienced her own father ambush her new friends and kill multiple. She predicted sleepless nights for the following week.

“What happened?” Lucy asked her older brother, a certain softness to her voice. It only made Y/N’s heart break more.

“Ask him,” Peter responded. His voice was sharp, a contrast to the funny, caring guy Y/N had spoken to around the fire. Caspian stopped walking and his head shot up.

“Me? You could have called it off. There was still time.” Caspian responded. How dare King Peter place the blame onto him. He strongly advised against the entire mission, which the High King ignored. This wasn’t Caspian’s fault. He wasn’t the bad guy.

“No there wasn’t, thanks to you.” Peter took a few steps towards Caspian, his face twisting into a scowl. “If you stuck to the plan, those soldiers would be alive right now.”

“And if you had stayed here like I suggested, they definitely would be.” Caspian could feel the hatred for Peter bubbling in his chest. No matter what Caspian did, Peter was always better. Peter was the King and there was nothing Prince Caspian could do about it. He glanced over at Y/N; her arms were crossed against her chest and her eyes were filled with flames.

“You called us, remember?!” The vein in Peter’s forehead was starting to bulge. If Caspian was in any other situation, he would have found that amusing.

“My first mistake.”

“No,” Peter’s voice wobbled and he began to walk away. “Your first mistake was believing that you could lead these people.”

This made something break deep within Prince Caspian’s soul. He had been preparing his entire life to rule and the second he is finally able to do so, some scrawny blonde child rips it away from him.

“HEY!” Peter turns around at Caspian’s outburst, words begging to escape off his tongue. “I am not the one who abandoned Narnia.”

Peter stalked towards the Prince until they were near nose to nose. “You invaded Narnia. You have no more rights here than Miraz does; You, him, your father. Narnia’s better off without the lot of you.”

Caspian ripped his sword out of his hilt and rushed towards Peter.

“That is enough!” Y/N bellowed as if her voice was subdued thunder. “Both of you, get some air. Now.”

“Y/N-” Peter began, placing his own sword in his hilt. She cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“I don’t want to hear it. Go.”

Caspian sat at the edge of the cliff, swinging his feet and watching Y/N speak with Peter. He observes how Y/N’s shoulders shake with laughter and how Peter swings an arm around Y/N fondly. They had been at it for almost an hour, chatting, laughing, and hugging, yet Caspian forced himself to watch. It’s what he deserved; he had driven Y/N away and now she was Peter’s. Peter was the perfect king with the perfect hair and perfect attitude. He had so much to offer. The only thing Caspian had was Y/N, and now High King Peter the Magnificent had that too.

“Hey,” Y/N’s voice sounded from behind him. Caspian must have been staring off into the distance for longer than he thought.

“Shouldn’t you be with Peter?” Caspian replied, not bothering to move his eyes when she sat next to him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that he is your new boyfriend and you should spend time with him. That’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do.”

“What? He’s not- what are you on about, Cas?” She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t call me that,” He shugged her hand off so she wasn’t touching him. “And yes he is, don’t lie to me. You were so fast to comfort him, after all.”

Y/N looked at him with a hurt expression. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Caspian looks over at his supposed best friend for the first time. She was already looking at him with a hurt expression. He turned his head away.

“You were so fast to jump to his aid and you haven’t left his side since we met him. For the love of Aslan, Y/N, you practically drool over the guy.” “I didn’t jump to his aid, I was scolding him about what happened. And I’m sorry, he’s my friend and the only person who has actually spoken to me in the past month.” “Scolding him by hugging and laughing? Very effective, I should use that tactic in the next fight I’m in. ”

Y/N sputtered for a second. “Were you spying on me?!”

Caspian let a single breath rush quickly out of his nose. “No, you just happened to ‘scold him’ in the middle of the courtyard.” He stood up. “You know what? I hope you two are very happy together. Just know he’s going to blame you for shit you didn’t do.”

Y/N quickly stood up as well. “Is that what this is about? Aslan, help me. You were both in the wrong.”

“I didn’t do anything. I advised against his plan, Y/N. This so-called Peter the Magnificent led the Narnian people to their deaths.”

“And yet you thought the best course of action was to disobey his plan? You were just as responsible as he was.” Y/N’s voice was picking up in aggression.

“I had to save him, Y/N.” Caspian started to walk away. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Y/N instantly pulled his arm back. “Wouldn’t understand? May I remind you that you’re not the only one with Telemarine family?!” Caspian turned so he was looking directly into Y/N’s eyes.

“I’ve had everything taken away from me, I was not about to have Doctor Cornelius taken from me too.” His eyebrows were furrowed and he pointed at the ground dramatically.

“Everything? Caspian you still have me-”

“That’s the thing, Y/N! No, I don’t! What aren’t you getting? I have loved you since we were six years old and the second I think I have you, some shitty blonde king comes and takes you away from me. Just fucking go, Y/N. Go to your king and be happy.” Caspian shouted so loud he was sure all of Narnia could have heard. What had he done?

“Maybe if you just fucking listened to me, you would realize I love you too, you big dumbass!” Y/N didn’t miss a beat, staring at him with such intensity that he might explode right then and there.

Caspian grabbed either side of Y/N’s face and kissed her. Hard. There was so much emotion wrapped into the simple action and it made both of their heads spin. Anger evaporated with each motion and soon, the two were softly running their hands over each other’s skin. Y/N could feel her angry tears trail down her cheeks but before she could do anything, Caspian brushed them away with his thumb. Her face was cradled delicately in Caspian’s rough hands.

Years worth of unresolved feelings seemed to clear as Caspian worked on her. He kissed firmly, his mouth dominating hers easily, but his hands moved in delicate patterns. First, they were housed on her cheeks, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. Then, they traced her body until they landed on her hips.

“You dork,” Y/N grinned when she pulled away. “I never liked Peter. Aslan, I never liked Peter. It’s always been you.”

Caspian flashed her a toothy smile in return. “I am so in love with you, Y/N. I am so sorry for yelling at you.”

Y/N grinned mischievously and pulled away. “Don’t be, you’re extremely hot when you’re jealous.”

She winked, and Caspian pulled her to him once more. The newfound couple shared a second quick kiss before following the narrow trail for which they came.

#caspian #prince caspian #king caspian #caspian x #caspian x reader #prince caspian x reader #prince caspian fanfic #prince caspian fanfiction #king caspian x reader #king caspian fanfic #king caspian fanfiction #king caspian x reader smut #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #narnia #c.s. lewis #c. s. lewis #ben barnes

358 notes · View notes

lipstickbisous · 4 years

Text

the rei brown series (1/3)

PICTURE FRAMES.

notes: yeah so i do write for (y/n) lol. just not for my oberyn series. this will have two parts but that’s it. this really has nothing to do with the plot of narcos, so sorry, but instead, we’re getting self-loathing javi. literally the only thing i’m good at is angst so...send that shit in. heaavvvvyyyy inspo from @gummiishark 😘

IT IS IMPORTANT THAT YOU LISTEN TO THE SONG.

the poem used is NOT MINE.

there is a part that might not add up with the whole 80′s setting, just ignore that pls.

pairing: javier peña x reader

summary: what happens when memories begin to resurface and javi can’t stop them?

warnings: A N G S T -- ANGST ANGST ANGST. there will be a part two but ANGST. an a john mulaney reference ;)

based off of picture frames by rei brown.

word count: 3.2k

it was dark. that was all javi knew in the moment because he didn’t feel like getting up to check the clock in his kitchen. it hung delicately on his wall, almost like how his heart was delicately and barely clinging onto life. something inside of him was hurting, and it hadn’t hurt in a long time. it was foreign, yet when javier first felt the pang, he was nostalgic.

nostalgic of you? most likely, but he hadn’t thought of you in the past twenty years. it’d been too long, and if he was being honest, he’d been too busy--so he assumed that you had been as well. that you were married off to a kind man, because that’s what you deserved, with several beautiful children, a dog, a big house with good money (because that’s what you deserved). he wasn’t sure if you had gotten that, but he hoped to god it’s what life was meant for you. he knew was his life meant now--cheap alcohol and cigerattes, expensive girls and informants, and a job that had him slumped on his couch, ignoring the spanish being spoken on his television.

he had wasted the past two decades with a career he thought was destined for him, but instead, he had made his living in murder. javi had spent countless nights with girls who were now unidentifiable. three nights ago, he had a pretty brunette in his bed, and once she left in the morning, he couldn’t even remember her name. martina? no, it started with an ‘f’, he was sure...

even though he had managed to convince himself over twenty years that he had completely rid himself of you for good, he could still remember your name. your teenage face smiling in the texas sunlight. sometimes, you would come over to the ranch and simply just sit with the horses. you’d stated that they had a certain essence to them that you enjoyed, but he knew that despite the girls in your grade teasing you about it, horses were your favorite animal. you had light laugh lines creasing from behind your nostrils to the corners of your mouth every time you laughed. javier could remember admiring them.

god, javier admired everything about you. even now, as his eyes were focused on the television but couldn’t think about a single thing it was showing him, he still admired the way you had laughed during summer hang-outs, or during the halls of high school when he tried to crack a joke. and they hadn’t even all that funny--but then again, you did have a big sense of humor and were easily amused.

he had polaroids of the two of you somewhere in his bedroom. he had made sure to pack them along with him on his way to colombia. he didn’t even want to think about the last time you two had spoke. it had been a neutral departing, and even if javi didn’t know it, you were both hiding things you had to say. he’d given it to you simply--a straightforward “i’m leaving texas”--and you were frozen.

you wanted to support him, of course you wanted to support him. you would be attending college as well, but you were staying in the state. your mother had been scared to death of you leaving texas for school, and as much as you hated it, you could never defy your mother. so, in that moment, you hadn’t moved for a good three minutes. it took a gentle hand on your shoulder to wake you.

“oh,” you whispered, but it was more of an incoherent noise. “that’s nice.” you’d said as well.

at first, you were angry that he could go back on a promise he made to you when you were both four years old--neither of you would ever leave the other. then, you were quick to realize that your frustration was nothing more than your fault. why would you back everything that was happening on a stupid promise you made when you were four years old?

he’d driven you home that night and you had murmured a quiet goodbye in the sticky summer air, but it had gotten caught on its way to javier’s ears. to him, you had left his truck without a word.

javier pushed that memory away. he dug a hole in his brain and buried the thought in its gravery, shoving the dirty onto its wooden box and taking a swig of whiskey. he stood from his couch and flipped the television off, watching as its screen remained with the green halo and the top was still hot. the streets outside of his apartment were always loud, but even now, whether it was a coincidence or not, only two or three cars were passing by quietly.

he let out a grumble and flipped off the light to his living room and kitchen, stumbling into his bedroom and collapsing on top of the bed. his sheets, a pristine pearl white, usually calmed him in the dead of night when he had a long day at work or maybe he had lost an officer. these sheets, the ones that held so many girls but never you, now did nothing for him. even the smell seemed bland, they weren’t the normal fresh detergent smell. he pressed his cheek flat against the mattress and pulled a pillow over his head, trying to muffle out any small noise or sight that could bother him in the morning. when stuck between his bed and pillow, he exhaled and immediately cringed. his breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes and whatever spicy food he’d eaten that night--he couldn’t even remember.

then, an idea sparked. it hadn’t been sinful or devilish but his eyes shot open and he threw the pillow to the floor. a car drove past his window, the lights moving through his room. javier propelled himself from his bed and swung his hand over the floor lamp in next to his desk. the room was illuminated and he could only imagine how insane he looked; his hair tousled in different directions, his eyes puffy from absentmindedly crying, his hands frantically running themselves over every piece of furniture in his room. he flipped the covers from his bed and looked underneath but found no monsters or anything. he pulled out drawers from his desk and emptied their contents onto the floor, but only found highlighters, papers, pens, and work-related material (that, if javier was being honest, should not have been in his home). he left the empty drawers on the floor and turned to the bookshelf, pulling every book off of its surface until the shelves were bare.

a hand rubbed over his mouth as he felt tears threatening him again. he could not cry--he wouldn’t. it was then that javi realized the mess he had made and his anxiety completely tipped him off of the cliff edge. he began to lose his composure, breaking down in a way that he was sure made him look ugly. he fell to his knees and leaned against the end of his bed, bringing his knees to his chest. he wore only a t-shirt and boxers, but even in the colombian heat, he felt cold.

he couldn’t bring himself to say your name. javier felt that just the small noise of his own voice would scare him, but he had always thought your name was the prettiest.

(y/n). he thought in his head, that mental voice almost screaming at him. just fucking say it.

javier stuttered, choking on his own words, and he never stuttered. he always knew exactly what he wanted, and in this moment, he only wanted you. but you were over a thousand miles away and he had no idea if you even still thought about him. he hoped so, but he wouldn’t blame you if the name “javier peña” hadn’t been used by your lips in a long time.

back in texas all that time ago, he had left the next day. you called his father back at the ranch to try and make some sort of contact but the news had been announced that javier peña was no longer in texas and was on his way to a new school to meet new people and--this hurt you the worst--new girls.

you had never been one for jealousy. it was a vile monster that you just morally could not let take control over you, but for the second and that second only, it was all you felt. you loved javier and he just left? he left you at home while he traveled over the country.

javier didn’t dare to think about it. as he continued to stutter, he let out the smallest of whimpers with the syllables of your name. “(y/n),” he cried to himself and squeezed his eyes shut. hot tears stained his cheeks as they continued to flow in a way that seemed endless. the feeling of his lips pronouncing your name sent chills down his spine as he said it again, “(y/n).”

there were now small splotches on his shirt where his tears had left his face and dripped onto the fabric, and when pressed flush against his skin as he stood, it felt icy. he didn’t feel like doing much, and maybe that was because in his eyes, he had wasted almost his entire life so far on a fucking job. he was practically praying that you had found something good to do--even maybe hoping that you would still visit the ranch sometimes to sit with the horses, but that seemed like a stretch considering your last encounter.

finally, javi looked to his small closet that held nothing more than button-up shirts, tan-colored suits, and stacks of blue jeans. he chewed on his bottom lip and furrowed a brow. he couldn’t have possibly been that simple as to put something he held so close to his heart in his...closet? his feet carried him to the closet doors before he ripped them open and began throwing out hangers of clothes onto his bed. really, he didn’t care if it was a mess now--he’d clean it up later because in this moment, what he was searching for was all that mattered.

there was a shelf above the bar of his closet that held all of his hangers, but even though javier was considerably tall, he couldn’t reach it. with a harsh sigh, he kicked all of the clothes surrounding him on the floor away and grabbed the chair from his desk. he cringed as the sound of the wooden pegs meeting the wooden floor was insanely loud in the quiet moment before standing on the chair. he could just barely see over the shelf, but he didn’t need to see anymore. a large cardboard box that had been collecting dust and sitting in bored in closet for years seemed to shine in a halo of angelic light. his gaze softened once his hand reached the back and he pulled the box down to him.

the creases of the cardboard had aged over time and the edges were slightly ripped, but overall, it had been kept in good shape--even when considering that javi hadn’t even looked at it for a long time, let alone hold it in his arms.

it felt like it was almost an historic artifact, that if javier applied just a bit too much pressure, it would turn to dust in his hold. he breathed carefully before gently setting it down on his bed, throwing the hangers of clothes onto the floor. currently, not a square inch of wooden flooring could be seen in his room. his eyes were wide as he traced his fingers over the box, recognizing the faded logo of the brand of boots you wore in highschool. he’d asked for your shoe box, you had no idea why, but now here javier sat with it in front of him all these years later.

his fingers just barely grazed over the edge of the lid before lifting it from the rest of the box, the dust gently blowing the air and small puffs of his breath. the first thing he noticed was the photo of you he held dearest.

it had been winter in texas and you were both sixteen. usually, during the cold season, because your hometown was so close to the border, the most winter-ish reaction you could get from texas was ice, but this year had been special because it had snowed. little snowflakes fell so delicately and collected on the ground until it grew to be at least several inches high. the roads were completely ice so your school had been cancelled on that thursday. it had been, personally, you and javi’s first taste of snow. and you both had spent ten minutes outside, bundled up in snow gear you never had to use before until you both decided that the snow was not for you and you retreated inside. his father had even gone as far to make hot cocoa and sandwiches for you two. javi had taken the photo with his father’s camera, one that he normally wasn’t allowed to use, when he had captured the perfect moment of you caught up in your laughter.

he pulled out various other photos from that day and others out of the box and reached a series of polaroids, and this time, it had been from summer. you had daisies in your hair because javier had taken the time to weave them through they strands so they stayed in place. he remembered how you had poked fun at him because while the gesture was so effortless, he stuck his tongue out like he was intently working. in the picture you sat in the fields while the horses were home in their stables, but a small foal had managed to escape. it’s wobbly knees kept it struggling to stand. the next photo was you noticing the creature almost falling over behind you. the third was you laughing and holding it up with your hands on both sides of its stomach.

you had never faked a smile. javier knew so because the one time you had tried, it had gone horribly wrong and he saw right through it. you immediately spilled everything that had been bothering you and he took you out for dinner the diner.

he continued to shuffle through the polaroids, carefully examining each one that showed your genuine excitement and happiness of life. his fingers would trace around the rim before he sensitively placed them in one large pile. he grew closer to the bottom of the box, and as he began to see its cardboard base and that boot logo again, his art ached. back in texas, he had so many more photos of you and he absolutely loathed his younger self for not packing them.

there was more in the box than just photos. he had also managed to pack one of your hoodies because you had left it at his house and never bothered to retrieve it. javier wasn’t sure if the act was creepy in a way, but the fabric had been so soft that whenever he held it, he thought of you. of course, during the past years, the smell of your perfume had completely faded and the sweatshirt smelled like any other old hoodie.

beneath the hoodie was a numerous amount of papers you had written and hidden in your room, but you had never been one for secrets. a day together over the summer and javi found them sticking out of your dresser drawer. he wasn’t sure if even to this day you knew he had them. on the paper, which had turned yellow due to age, you had written small poems. some had been about love, others about friends, and a few about summer and winter. (javi liked to believe that when you were writing about the winter ones, you were thinking of your time in the snow with him)

then, there were the poems he had written. he had never let you see any of them or even know about them. he had written them in a journal he kept at his desk, and whenever you asked about it, he would dismiss you and say it was ‘an old school journal he kept for notes’, but when javier was packing, he ripped each page out and clipped them together and put them in the box. tears clouded his vision as he reread his poems.

a sunflower soul, with rock and roll eyes. curious thoughts, and a heart of surprise.

he had written about you.

finally, javier stared down at an empty box, apart from the single card that remained at the bottom. it been hidden underneath every memory he had of you, and when his fingers unfolded the paper, he let out a choked sob when he recognized the numbers.

never in his life had javier felt such nausea. was the number even yours? were you even in texas anymore? you could’ve moved to fucking new york and completely altered your life. but...it wouldn’t hurt to try...right? he stood from his knees, instantly feeling the imprinted lines from the wooden flooring in his skin, and he only hesitated no more than two seconds before sprinting to his dining room, almost running straight past the phone.

with the paper in between his fingers and his hand violently shaking, his tears falling and his throat constricting to keep in a sob, he dialed the number and hopefully waited for a voice--any voice, even if it wasn’t yours, although if it did belong to himself, he didn’t know what he would do.

three dial tones later and no one had picked up. his eyes became lost in the darkness of his dining room before the line went blank. “no,” he whispered. “no, no, no, no.” so foolish of him to think that there could possibly be hope. javier dialed the numbers again and waited several seconds before a groggy voice answered. he realized just how late (or early) it had been and that whoever answered would be woken up by this phone call at two-thirty in the morning.

“hello?” the voice was unrecognizable yet familiar. javi was quiet, his breath even inaudible as he contemplated how to reply. “hello?”

he chewed his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut, releasing any other tears that were preparing themselves to fall . “(y/n)?” he spoke your name again and god did it feel good to say the one word that gave him solace.

it was silent. unbearably, cruelly, life-threateningly silent. his breathing began to quick as he felt his heart stop. his brows furrowed in some sort of shock but he was defeated. he clenched the paper in his palm so that it crumpled with a gentle sound, the only thing that really broke that painful silence. until the voice spoke again.

“javi?” you whispered, sitting up in your bed. your eyes were now fully open, your drowsiness had completely left your body. your gaze into the darkness of your room softened as you began to happily cry. “javier?”

on the other side of the line, javi only smiled.

tags: literally no one lmao @gummiishark @cyarikaaa @honeyedspace @talesfromtheguild @absurdthirst @pascalisthepunkest @wakalas @zeldasayer @blushingwueen @forever-rogue @otherthingsinhead @pedropascalito @thewaythisis @javierpenaspinkshirt

#THERE WILL BE A SECOND PART #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x oc #narcos #javier pena fic #steve murphy #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x you #steve murphy fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic

65 notes · View notes

x-reader-theater · 4 years

Text

My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours {8}

Relationship: Geralt of Rivia X Male!Disabled!Reader

Summary: Traps, ambushes, and love, oh my!

Warnings: Cursing, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Word Count: 1170 words

A/N: Hey everyone. I want to thank my amazing editor @mystic-writes. Please donate to my ko-fi if you can. It really helps me continue writing. Please like, comment, and reblog. My work gets nowhere without reblogs. Now, without further ado, My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours chapter 8.

Take a Chance for the Nights are Short (Book 1) [1]

Hold me Tight for the Days are Long (Book 2) [2]

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Chapter 8: A Drink, just Between us Old Men

You and Ciri are bringing in the wood she cut when the teleportation runes on your floor light up, and Triss steps through a portal into your little home. You don't look up, the sound being familiar to you. Geralt and Ciri look up as you start placing logs into the fire.

"Alright. I think I have a plan to deal with these rogue hunters," Triss says.

Geralt grunts and nods, moving away from the kitchen table to where you're setting up the fire. He begins to help you without you even asking for any help. You smile at him as he sits next to you, putting the small twigs and leaves you use for kindling underneath the logs. You sit back and he uses Igni to light the fire.

“Come come, gather ‘round,” Triss says in the kitchen. You get up and sit down in your chair at the kitchen table, watching as Geralt mirrors you in the other chair. Two old men about to fight a war. Witchers never die in their beds after all. Triss places a satchel of something on the table. Taking a sniff it smells almost… flammable.

“Is that Dwarven Spirit?” Geralt asks.

Triss nods. "We need to make traps. I watched Eskel do it a few years ago. When, well…" She trails off, looking down at the ground, a look of grief on her face. She shakes her head and the grief is replaced with a small, forced smile. "That doesn't matter. What matters is we can make traps, traps that will severely hurt any Wild Hunt that come here."

"Hold on," Geralt says, placing a hand flat on the table. "We're doing this? Here? We can't do this somewhere with more protection? Find people to help us?"

You shrug. "Why not here? They have nowhere to sneak up on us. They can't hide. They don't have anywhere they can regroup, catch their breath. They can only run into the forest, and there's worse beasts in there than the likes of us."

Tris and Ciri nod. "It's better than most places, you have to admit," Ciri says, reaching out a hand and placing it on Geralt's forearm. You see him visibly relax at that, his shoulders dropping underneath her touch. He even has a smile on his face, though it's small. He probably doesn't even notice. It's not just his scar that's new. He's sporting a rather fetching beard, and his hair is shaved, except for a long ponytail up top. He has a few new scars on his face, but the one over his eye is the one that catches your attention first. As you look closer though, you see smaller ones dotting their way across his skin. And it all leads back to his lips, cracked, smiling, but still probably just as soft as all those years ago when you kissed him. It's in this moment, this reassuring touch Ciri gives him, that you realize.

You're still hopelessly in love with Geralt of the Witchers.

Your eyes are wide as you look at Geralt, who's looking at Ciri, who's looking at Triss. It seems everyone's looking at someone else for different reasons.

"I think it's settled then," Triss says, finally moving the conversation along. Geralt's yellow eyes dart over to you, and you blink, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. They're so loud, you're surprised everyone in the room can't hear them. "We'll stand and fight. Here."

Everyone nods their heads. "Well, where the fuck do we start?" Ciri asks. Geralt glares at her when she says fuck. You think she should be able to, but you're not her father.

You want to be.

Another thought you haven't had before.

Triss smiles and picks up the bag of alcohol, gesturing at Ciri to follow her. "Come on. We can get started. I think the old men need to sleep."

You try to flip off Triss, but she's already out the door. Luckily, she waves her hand, and two of the mugs on your kitchen counter clean themselves and fill with ale. One for you, and one for Geralt. You grab them and hand on to Geralt.

Taking a sip, it's just as good as you remember it, but it's not as good as anything homemade. Magic food and drink always had a funny aftertaste to it. Like it's almost sour, but not quite.

You and Geralt sit silently together, sipping your magically created ale together. It's been awhile since you've had a drink together. It's nice, enjoying each other's company.

You're the first to break the silence. "What happened to Roach?"

Geralt looks up at you, and something akin to sadness appears on his face. "She died, a couple years back. It was just her time." You nod and sip your ale. "What of Jennis?"

"Oh he died. Before I met up with you again actually." Geralt nods as well. "He slipped and fell off a cliff actually. In Skellige."

"Bad way to go. For anyone."

You chuckle. "Definitely. Took me a few hours to get all my stuff and to lug it to the nearest town." You look out your window, toward where Triss and Ciri are chatting outside. "Jennis was a Good horse."

"So was Roach."

You both take a sip from your respective mugs and the room falls silent once again. It doesn't feel awkward, but you want to fill it with something. You need to occupy your mind with something. You need to say something.

So you say the first thing that comes to your mind.

"Did you love me?" You snap your jaw closed as soon as the words come out, trying to stop them, but it's too late. You said what you said. There's no turning back.

"I-I don't know," Geralt says. "I was young. Looking back, I can't say I did."

You nod slowly, taking a sip from your mug. "Witchers don't have emotions, right?" It's mocking, the way you say it. Like you don't believe it. The way Geralt looks at Ciri, you can't believe it.

Geralt simply nods. "That's right."

"That's bullshit, is what that is." Your empty mug falls to the table with a loud bang, startling not only yourself with the forcefulness of it, but Geralt as well. "I've seen how you are with Ciri. You love her. You wouldn't be going to these lengths if you didn't." You stand up, swiping a hand out, knocking your mug sideways onto the table. "You're getting soft, Geralt. That's not a bad thing. You just have to admit it."

You move to leave out the door, but Geralt grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. You could probably pull away and he would let you, but you don't. You listen.

"Did you love me?"

"I did. Once."

You take your arm from his grasp and walk out the door, but not before thinking to yourself;

I don't know if I ever stopped.

67 notes · View notes

feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter six: a man of many colors

“let’s fall in love with music. the driving force in our living. the only international language, divine glory, the expression, the knees bow, the tongue confesses... the lord of lords, the king of kings.” -”man of golden words”, mother love bone

Joey led Sam over to the other side of the room once they had their cups of coffee in hand. They took their seats near the bathroom doors, far away from Cliff and the other boy Alex. The outside lights shone down on the crowns of their heads: Sam could make out sight of jet black hair atop Cliff's head, although when he tossed his hair back with a flick of his head, it disappeared. But that tiny ribbon of white on the right side of Alex's hair shone bright under those golden lights, even it being so small and slender. Through the shadows and the pane of glass, Sam could make out the sight of Alex's tummy poking out over his belt. She kept her eye on his lanky little body even as Joey returned to her with a muffin in hand.

“What'cha lookin' at?” he asked her as he took off the paper from the muffin stump.

“Alex,” she quipped almost without thinking.

“He's pretty cool looking, isn't he?” Joey said with that lopsided smile upon his face. “Got that li'l white stripe at the top of his head and he just stands out to everyone, too.”

“Marla, Aurora, and I were talking about his stripe not long ago and we were all just fascinated by it,” she added.

“I think it's a birthmark,” he suggested, “at least that's what I've heard.”

“You don't think of the hair getting marked at birth,” she pointed out, to which he shrugged as he picked off a piece of cranberry muffin and offered it to her. “Ooh, yes please.” She took the piece and stuck it into her mouth. “Light and fluffy,” she added.

“Still fresh from this morning,” he remarked. “But yeah, that's what I've heard about that little thing is that it's a birthmark. I don't really know for sure—I'll admit I dunno much 'bout biology.”

“I think it's interesting,” she continued as she swallowed the bite of muffin and took a sip of coffee.

“I do, too,” Joey admitted, but then he shuffled his weight; “I don't really like starin' at him, though, especially since he's still kind of a young buck. As far as I know, anyway. There's so much of this scene that's still a total unknown to me.”

“Yeah. He looks—kind of uncomfortable right there.” Behind the glass, Cliff chuckled at something and Alex dropped his gaze to the surface of the table before him with a nervous little smile on his face. Cliff said something and gestured towards him, and he shrugged at him, still with the nervous smile on his face. He set a hand on his little belly and he looked down at his waist and his thighs. Cliff said something and he replied with something else.

Cliff nodded his head and he stood to his feet: he then opened the door.

“I'll be right back—” he told Alex, who nodded at him as Cliff stepped into the coffee house. Sam showed him a pretty little wave and he winked at both her and Joey. She brought her gaze back over to Alex out there on the porch. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand and gazed out to the darkness. A thoughtful look rested on his face, and she wondered what he was thinking right then.

Cliff asked the barista behind the counter for a couple of muffins; Sam returned to Joey, who took a hearty drink from his cup of espresso. She eyed his throat and his slender shoulders all the while, and she imagined herself drawing him some more for school. He set down the cup and nodded his head.

“Sometimes all ya need is a cup of espresso to get ya movin',” he declared.

“But it's nighttime, though,” she pointed out.

“Better than a swig o' booze,” he followed up.

“True. But still. I can't see how you could need to get moving at nighttime unless you work graveyard shift.”

“But I do like this, though,” he remarked with a nod of his head.

“What, drinking coffee at ten o'clock at night?”

“Yeah. There's something kinda—what's the word, quaint? About it.”

Sam showed him a thoughtful little smile. She could understand where he was coming from with that, especially once she thought of her old life in California.

“Especially since we're in downtown New York City, too,” she added when she brought her cup to her lips for a drink herself. She caught a whiff of the caramel on the inside.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cliff hovering near the pastry rack next to the cash register.

“I still owe you a trip upstate,” Joey spoke before he took another sip of espresso.

“You still wanna take me up to Poughkeepsie?”

“Maybe,” he quipped. “Or maybe I'll take ya up to where my parents still live at and where I grew up—outside of Syracuse. It's kind of a long drive, though. I'd haveta get a brand new car, too, y'know.”

“One that won't catch fire,” she joked.

“One that won't catch fire, right!”

Sam looked over at Cliff, still by the pastry rack next to the cash register. He had stuck his hands into his jeans pockets and he gazed on at the painting on the wall next to him. She returned to Joey, who kept his cup of coffee by his mouth and nose but he didn't take another drink from it.

“Just a bunch of thoughtful boys,” she proclaimed.

“I'm just lookin' at that painting behind you,” he said with a gesture of his head. Sam peered over her shoulder at the long framed painting of a city street lined with dark buildings. A few white horses trotted on the pavement.

“Every shop I've gone to here in the City is so cozy and comfy,” she noted as she shook her shoulders a bit and returned to him; she caught another glimpse of Alex outside on the porch, but she had no idea what he was doing right then.

“That's the power of the City,” he told her with a raise of his eyebrows. “Even I can say that.”

“What's Syracuse like?”

“Nuthin' like the Big Apple. Nuthin' like it. It's funny, too—people often call it the donut, 'cause there's no inner city, like there's the freeway runnin' through the place in a circle and there's nothing else there. We also get snow at the weirdest times of the year.”

“Carson City was like that,” she said.

“Really?” He knitted his eyebrows together. “I don't think of Nevada as bein' like that.”

“Snow when it's supposed to be summer,” she continued. “In fact, come to think of it—New York City is kind of like both Vegas and Carson, and I picture Syracuse as being like Winnemucca or Elko, the latter is kinda down in a hole. A hole in the middle of the desert.”

“Kinda—like a donut,” Joey said with a nod of his head and the return of the lopsided grin. He offered her another piece of muffin and she took it for herself.

“Like a donut,” she echoed with a smile on her face.

Meanwhile, Cliff thanked the barista and took a fresh pair of muffins for himself and Alex. Sam noticed the one in his right hand was double chocolate, and the chips had melted a little bit. She watched him walk back outside to the porch: Alex's face lit up at the sight of that chocolate one.

“Fresh out of the oven, so be careful—” Cliff's voice fell out with the door closing behind him. Sam turned back to Joey.

“Aw, man, you could've gotten a chocolate muffin for us,” she said, to which he shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, well. This is pretty good, though.”

“Oh, yeah. This is extra fresh.” Joey took another sip of espresso and then he raised a finger to her.

“Sit tight, I gotta use the boys' room.” He climbed to his feet and he made his way over to the little nook with bathroom doors next to them. Sam then turned her head to the right once again and she watched Alex eat up the chocolate muffin as if he was starving to death. Cliff said something to him and he eagerly nodded his head: a little curly lock of his jet black hair sprawled over his shoulder.

Sam flashed back on her old home life in California and Nevada, and she wondered, given he hailed from the West Coast himself, if he missed it at all. She felt at home in New York City but it was the very sight of him that made her think about the West Coast yet again. She wondered about him, more of his story there in the Bay Area. She was about to stand to her feet and walk out there to introduce herself to him, but before she could do anything, Joey emerged from the bathroom.

He gave his lush black curls a toss back from the side of his neck and he rubbed his hands together.

Sam caught that soft smell of soap on his skin.

“Ooh, that smells good,” she complimented him.

“I try my best,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “I could take ya home but—y'know.”

“You don't have a car anymore.”

“I hope that'll change soon.”

“But what're you gonna do, though?” she asked him.

“Frankie'll take me home,” he reminded her.

“Oh, yeah, that's right!”

“Don't worry 'bout me,” he assured her.

“I kinda do worry about you, though,” she confessed, and Joey raised an eyebrow at her. Outside, Cliff burst out laughing at something. Sam turned her a bit: he clapped his hands at something while Alex had tilted his head back over the top of the chair. He still had some muffin stump left over.

She returned to Joey and his raised eyebrows.

“You worry about me,” he almost whispered it.

“Well, especially after,” she started but she hesitated to choose her words; “—the car burning up in broad daylight on the freeway. You getting drunk and puking your guts out after dinner. I kinda worry about you, Joey. You feel like a friend to me. My upstate friend.” She lowered her gaze to his hands as they rested around his cup of espresso.

“Frankie and I were the first guys you met when you moved here after all,” he pointed out in a soft voice.

“Yeah, you were! The very first New Yorker dudes I met. Frankie also met my parents.”

“Frankie met your parents?” he chuckled at that.

“Yeah, he came over one day and my parents were in town then. It was a little awkward because he was one of the first New Yorkers I met and it was right after I moved here, so they were like 'wow, that was quick.' And yeah, my landlord Emile doesn't count—he's from New Orleans.”

“Love New Orleans,” Joey said with a nod of his head. “You ever been there?”

“I haven't, no.”

“The next time Anthrax goes out on a big ass North American tour and one of the stops is New Orleans, you oughta join us.”

“I'd have school, though,” she pointed out. “School plus Stormtroopers of Death and Metallica.”

“Busy lady.”

“Better than doin' nothin'.”

“Better than doin' nuthin', yeah. Tell you what—” Joey glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. The barista had disappeared into the back room while Cliff and Alex stayed outside: they were alone in there. “—when I get a new car, I'll come get ya and I'll take ya upstate with me. To Syracuse.”

“Beautiful Syracuse,” she declared.

“Beautiful Syracuse on a lake and a forest—we'll go out to Lake Ontario, too, where my parents still live and where I grew up. Under one condition, though.” He finished off the rest of his muffin right then.

“What's that?”

He swallowed it down and cleared his throat. “It's not a date.”

“No, it's not,” she said. “I mean, you and I both said it ourselves the other night: I'm not your girlfriend.” “And I'm not your boyfriend,” he added.

“If anyone asks, I'll tell them that we're just friends.”

“Doubt anyone'll ask.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I just doubt it. Don't really see it happening.”

“What if someone calls me your girlfriend?” she asked him.

“We'll give 'em that logic.” He flashed her a wink. Those big brown eyes were clear and bright from the espresso: indeed, he tipped the cup back and finished off the rest of the coffee. “C'mon—let's go see if Frankie's willin' to take the both of us home.”

“I think Aurora's giving me a ride,” she recalled.

“Okay.” They both stood to their feet at the same time, and Sam picked up her cup and adjusted the strap of her purse. Joey held the door for her and they stepped out to the front porch. Alex had made his way over to the sidewalk while Cliff stood at the railing with a cigarette in hand.

“You guys headed out?” he asked them; he stuck it into his lips.

“Yeah, I'm hitchin' a ride with Frankie,” Joey replied as he brought his cup of coffee closer to his chest.

“Will we see you again?” Sam asked Cliff.

“You might be seein' me sooner than you think,” he promised her as he reached into his jeans pocket for a lighter. She pressed on to the sidewalk as if she was walking after Alex: Joey lingered close to her as they reached the dark street. Aurora strode out of the door with the bouquet of tulips Cliff had given Sam: the yellow petals stood out even in darkness.

“Wonder where Frankie and Danny went off to,” Joey muttered under his breath.

“Alex!” Sam turned her head to the right, and she spotted a little white van posted up at the corner. The back door slid open and she spotted Greg there in the back part of the van. She watched Alex as he sank down into the back seat of the van. Even in the darkness, she spotted that white sliver on his head as he took his seat. It was the last thing she saw before Greg slid the door shut and Legacy drove off into the darkness.

“Let's get outta this dark street,” Joey advised her, and he set a hand on her shoulder. Sam glanced back at Joey and the gentle expression on his face. Even in the darkness, she could still make out the clear look of his brown eyes. She hoped his eyes would stay clear as a bell like that more often as they crossed the street towards Aurora and Marla.

* * * * *

Sam reached the surface of the pitch black waters and she gasped for air all the while. She spotted Zelda up above her: she stared back at her with such a disgusted look upon her face. She rested her hands on what appeared to be nothingness right between her and Sam. It took her a moment to realize it was glass.

Sam turned her head and spotted Marla modeling before a big slender mirror. She didn't recognize Marla at first given she had dyed her hair to a plain platinum blonde, but she knew it was her. She wore a white dress with a long flowing skirt that seemed to go on forever.

It was her wedding dress. Indeed, she put on a blue bracelet which she took out from behind her ear. She wore a corsage on her other wrist.

Sam shook her head.

“Marla!” she called out to her from the waters. “Marla!” She never turned around. Instead, she kept looking on at her slim body wrapped up in that white dress. Sam returned to Zelda, right above her. Her dark face glared back at her from behind the glass. What appeared to be koi fish swam around her face and her hands.

She drowned above her, away from the waters.

Sam brought her gaze down to the stretch of waters before her. The sky was a rich rusty orange, but the waters were black. Where was he? Where did he go?

She paddled her hands about to keep herself afloat. “Where are you, baby?” she called out to the dark waters before her. Nothing. He was nowhere to be seen. Sam brought a hand to her face to keep the waters off of her skin.

The waters hardened underneath her and she landed on the seat of her pants. She peered behind her to the doorway: through the crack between the door and the frame, she caught the sight of the wedding. Marla's wedding. Marla's wedding to whom?

Sam climbed to her feet and she peeked through that sliver. She couldn't see Marla's face to her left there, but she knew it was her even with that bright blonde hair. She wondered if anyone could see her given the sheer amount of people in that room. The three tiered cake in front of her beckoned her for a slice by herself, before Marla and the lucky man had a slice themselves.

Indeed, he moseyed over to the cake with the knife in hand. Marla reached across the table to help him: Sam lifted her gaze to see—

“Joey?”

Those black curls glistened under the pure white light over them. Even on his wedding day, he kept his hair long. His sun kissed skin was even more sun kissed, almost as black as the waters she treaded within back there.

“Care for a piece?” Joey asked Marla, who gave her blonde hair a flip back. It was Marla, who had left Charlie for Joey at some point. She left Charlie and now she had made herself a bride with a bit of haste on top of that.

Sam opened her eyes to be greeted with bright yellow morning light. It had been a while since a dream had left her feeling confused, but that one in particular made her wonder if there was any truth at all. If Marla and Charlie had a solid grounding on their relationship at all. They seemed happy to her, but she couldn't really tell.

It was a bright beautiful spring morning in New York City, the heart of spring: the early morning sun shone upon the yellow petals of those tulips, which she had found a vase for and placed on the coffee table.

It would be another month before Stormtroopers of Death embarked on a little tour for themselves. Anthrax, meanwhile, were on a short break before they went out on a tour, and she decided to enjoy her first round of spring in the Northeast with her new batch of drawings. She still had to fetch that old journal from under Frank's couch cushion. They had gone off to a short string of dates the week before and thus there was no way she could go down there for anything: by the time she had remembered it, Frank had already locked up his place and followed Charlie out to their little van.

As she poured herself a cup of coffee, a knock on her door caught her attention. She opened the door to be greeted by Cliff: he still wore that wide brimmed hat from before and he smelled of fresh flowers once again.

“Cliff! What're you doing here?” She glanced behind him to ensure if he was alone. “How'd you find me?”

“Charlie and Frankie told me,” he answered with a shy little smile on his face. “I hope I'm not bothering anything.”

“Not at all! Um—come on in.”

He almost bowed his head as he entered her apartment: she spotted the bell bottoms around his feet, a striking look in comparison to Joey's tight fitted jeans. He removed his hat and shut the door behind him.

“Would you like some coffee?” she offered him as she made her way to the kitchen.

“I already had some, thank you,” he replied as he took a seat on her couch. “Those tulips still look good.”

“Oh, yeah, they're doing great...” She picked her coffee mug off of the counter and then returned to him. “So what brings you here?”

“We were just in town and—I wanted to swing by. Charlie told me you're usually up early so I took a shot in the dark.”

“Sometimes the shots in the dark are the most accurate,” she stated as she took a seat next to him on the couch. She gazed down at the bell bottoms and his big black boots with the pointed toes.

“Cowboy again,” she noted.

“Forever and always,” he replied, and she gazed on at him with her cup of coffee close to her mouth. She thought of Joey and if he had bought a new car at some point during their short stint of a tour. Her dream was still very fresh in mind and she wondered if there was any truth to it, especially with Zelda drowning and Joey and Marla getting married.

“Are you guys on tour at all?” was all she could ask of him. “Like, I know Anthrax is doing something right now, but what about the fabulous world of Metallica?”

“We're on break right now. We've been on break actually since March. It's kind of weird to me, if I'm being honest.”

“But you all come up here to New York City at the same time, though?” she chuckled at that.

“We're friends, Sam. We like to have little play dates every so often.”

“Play dates outside of the tour.”

“Right. I go into little book shops like the one you and I were in that one time and I check out the literature in there. Kirk and I are kinda like the bookworms of the band—we're like Scott, Frankie, Danny, and Charlie that way.” He paused for a second. “Have either of them showed you their comic book collections lately?”

She shook her head as she took a sip from her cup.

“Those guys and their comic books,” he declared. “James likes to give Kirk and me flak for being into books, but those guys are the real nerds, though. When they get back from their little tour and they've got some pennies on them, ask them to take you to the comic book store and see their reaction to it.”

“Will do,” she vowed, and she took a glimpse over at the tulips before them. As yellow as the day he gave them to her.

“You really are a man of many colors,” she said in a low voice. “You and Joey both.”

“Alex is, too,” he blurted out. And he turned to look at her with a twinkle in his eye. “You know, that kid from Legacy who's like crazy with the guitar even at his age.”

“Yeah.” She knitted her eyebrows at him. “Him, really?”

“Yeah, he just strikes me as that kinda guy,” Cliff confessed. “He's a pretty cool kid—like he should be in like the art student crowd, or with the band kids. Real quiet and soft spoken—although his voice alone will tell you a different story. He keeps to himself, like he's actually kind of shy. When we were sitting on the porch of the coffee house the other night, I actually had to coax the words out of him. But he's pretty bright, though—Satch taught him well. When Legacy comes back out this way, and we all get a chance to truly hang out with each other again, you guys oughta get together at some point. Or better yet, I'll see if I can introduce you to each other at some point.”

Sam took a sip of lemonade and gazed on at the low hanging afternoon sun through her rich dark lenses.

“So when does Metallica go on tour again?” she asked him.

“Like I said, we're on a long break at the moment,” he explained, “so we can have plenty more time to figure out the new album and figure out the bulk of the studio time and everything, because right now it's just setting things up and getting it all together. We pick up where we left off over in England in August and then we come back to California for a few dates after that, and then another long break followed by two more dates around New Year's.”

“Wow,” she breathed.

“We learned right away on the last record that we're gonna be on the road for hundreds of days at a time,” Cliff continued as he adjusted the brim of his hat. “Literally hundreds of days.”

“What're you guys gonna do in that other long break?” she asked him. “The one after the summer?”

“I think that's when we really get down to brass tacks,” he told her, “that's when we lay down the new songs that we've written and actually get moving on Master. Or Puppets, as James refers to it. I think, anyways—I have to ask Lars about it. The thing we were doing a couple of weeks ago was just getting things started and squared away—the kind of boring stuff Aurora has to put up with.” That brought a laugh out of her.

“You're a California girl yourself,” he lowered his voice to a near whisper.

“Yeah.”

“Each of those remaining North American dates are over in California. We oughta fly you out there with us. You, Marla, Aurora, and Zelda. You can see the Legacy in action on their home turf, too.”

“That is if I don't start school at that point, though,” she pointed out. “I start the ninth of September.”

“We'll get you home in time,” he promised her with a wink. She swallowed and then she turned to him. He gave her flowers. He danced with her. It was so obvious to her at that point.

“Cliff, it's hard to believe that—a kind boy such as yourself has had so much pain in your life,” she admitted. “Like I don't really imagine someone with as much agony as you've had with losing your brother at such a young age being so sweet and gentlemanly.”

Cliff shrugged his shoulders at her.

“As I've said, the pain drives me,” he replied. “It's what keeps me creating and it's also what keeps my heart alive...” His voice trailed off for a moment, and then he turned his head towards her. “You got anything to eat?”

“Not right now, no,” she confessed. “I've gotta get some things.”

“I also promised Kirk to get him a horror book from that book shop you and I were at that one time, too,” he added. “Some rare edition of it that he's like drooling over. When I was there, I saw it but I didn't get it because I didn't know what it was. I told him about it the other day and he goes, 'dude! You should get that when we're in New York next week!' And I was like 'okay, I'll do it. I think I'll have more money by then, too.' So—” He reached forward for his hat. “—I shall leave you to it, dear Sam.”

“The sooner the better for me, too,” she noted as she stood to her feet. She was about to make her way back to her room when he stopped her.

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

She faced him straight on. Cliff towered over her with that hat strong and high pointed towards the ceiling. He sighed through his nose and then he stooped down towards her. He pressed his lips onto hers. Even though Sam had touched herself in the past, she never had anyone else touch her lips before. The fine fuzz over his upper lip brushed against her skin, such that it made her bare toes curl right into the soft carpet beneath her. The feeling made the butterflies whir up in her stomach.

He pulled back and gazed right into her eyes.

“What was that for?” she could hardly speak.

“I wanted to show you the truth before I go,” he confessed in a low voice. The warmth crossed her face, and he winked at her. He adjusted the brim of his hat before he stepped out of her apartment without another word. Sam brought a hand to her chest for a second and then she fanned herself. It wasn't very hot in that apartment but she felt hot soon enough.

“I just had my first kiss,” she said aloud. “Oh my god, I just had my first kiss with the man of my dreams.”

3 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

The city kid and the horse whisperer; Charles (Joe Mazzello Wooly boys) x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay let me first start off by saying I have NEVER WATCHED WOOLY BOYS SO IF YOU HAVE AND I GET ANYTHING WRONG, I AM SORRY!!! There’s just no way for me to watch this film unless I buy it. But I figured I give this a shot, hopefully you all like it and I’m planning on one more Charles fic in mind but until then I hope you all enjoy this one.

Warnings: drowning (just vague scene of it, not really any major details), some flirting, playful banter, teasing (platonically), and a writer who has no idea about this film other than from what she’s seen in the trailer and a clip or two of the movie.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@ixchel-9275

@psychosupernatural

@simonedk

@dancingcoolcat

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@kairosfreddie

@geek-and-proud

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

____________________________________________________________

I watched from afar as Charles was struggling to get onto Whiskey and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. How could someone that is related to the great AJ “Stoney” Stoneman, and not know how to ride a horse? Guess city folks really don’t get it. I stood there with Stoney’s white stallion ‘White lightning’ as I continued to stroke his mane.

“He really is trying isn’t he boy?” he grunted as he turned his head towards me and nickered softly. “Oh come on he’s not that bad.”

“I swear every time I hear you talk to them, it’s almost like you do have witch-like powers.” Stoney’s voice soon spoke up. I turned and smiled at the old man who’s been the only real positive male figure in my life.

“Just call me one with Mother Nature’s creatures.” I joked.

“You know; you are the youngest rider out of Shuck and I. And Charlie there won’t really listen to a bunch of old geezers like us. Why don’t you give him some tips on riding?” I chuckled softly.

“That’s funny.” When I heard Stoney not laughing nor chuckling along, I looked back towards him and said, “You’re being serious?” his brow raised. “Stoney, he won’t listen to me. You know that right?”

“Well he’s pretty pissed off at me and Shuck doesn’t really believe he can be a Wooly boy. Besides no one else is a better rider than you. Remember how you bested them Spratt boys last year at the rodeo?” I grinned smugly, “You lasted longer than either of them arrogant little assholes did on the bull ride, a full 20 seconds.”

“Yah those boys hadn’t let me live it down ever since. Always challenging me to a rematch or claiming I was cheatin.”

“My point is, I think my grandson could do better with some company around his age.”

“You sure this is about letting your grandson learn to ride? Or are you just avoiding him?”

“He’s getting no better teacher. Hell might be good for you too.”

“What are you talking about you ole coot?”

“I maybe old and sick my dear but I know when a mare is interested in a stallion. And sweetheart you’ve been eyein my grandson the second he arrived here.” I punched his arm which made him groan. “Didn’t I ever teach you about respect for your elders?” he teased.

“Yes but I counteract that when said elder person decides to be a busybody towards young one doing the ‘disrespecting’.” I teased back to him. I looked back towards Charles who was finally up on Whiskey but was struggling on trying to keep him calm. “Alright, but only because if I don’t then Whiskey’s gonna piledrive him to the ground.”

I walked right over to the riding ring and I leaned up against the fence as I could hear Charles say to Whiskey.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy. Easy. Just—hold still…..”

“He can sense your uneasiness yah know?” Charles suddenly turned towards me which made Whiskey nicker nervously.

“No offense but I have ridden a horse before, okay?” I raised my brow at his arrogant attitude before he suddenly deflated, “Okay. It was—virtual saddle. And I—don’t remember it being this high.”

“City kids and your fancy tech. You can try to make it as easy as you can or make it seem you’re really doing it but all that crap, doesn’t even come close to what people like us do.” I hopped over the fence and placed my hand on Whiskey’s strong neck and took one of the reins and whispered soothingly. “Easy big guy, steady young buck, steady.”

Whiskey’s nervous pacing soon stopped as his head touched my shoulder and the only thing that moved from him was his tail, whipping every now and then.

“Good boy Whisk. That’s a boy.” I patted his neck before giving it a gentle and soothing stroke.

“So it—it is true.” I heard Charles say.

“What’s true?” he tried to get down with ease but his foot got caught up in the stirrups. As he tried to wriggle it out, I couldn’t help but softly smile and try to hold in my laughter.

“That you really can talk to the horses.” He said as he finally got himself free.

“Well it’s not really talking. I mean yeah it is but it’s also showing respect. These creatures have been around and helping mankind for literally millennia’s. They gave us speed, power, and companionship in a way. Cowboys in the wild west had no one but their posse, if they had one, and their horses. One thing that mankind seems to forget is how to respect those that have helped us. That’s why I always treat any horse of Stoney’s with respect and dignity.”

“But—aren’t they just animals?”

“Just because they’re animals doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings too.” I sassed at him. The two of us stared at each other as I unhooked Whiskey’s saddle. “Your grandad wants me to help you learn how to ride. So be ready tomorrow at dawn.”

“Can’t we start after breakfast?”

“No can do Yankee-doo. Besides, I needed to go out hunting anyways for Shuck, might as well give him his winnings before he nags me to next month.”

“Winnings for what?”

“Oh last month he and I had a bet on whether or not Stoney would actually have the guts to go see yah in the city. I bet he wouldn’t, so—you can pick the story from there.”

“Am I supposed to be insulted that you lost a bet because of me?”

“Don’t kid yourself city boy.” I laughed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go put Whiskey up before you do anymore further trauma to him.” I took the reigns and led him toward the barn.

“I didn’t—”

“Loosen up Yankee I’m kidding again!” I laughed as I turned my head towards him before grinning and turning my head back to continue to the barn.

The rest of the day was just helping Stoney around the farm and by the time the sunset we all sat around and had dinner before I finally decided to retire for the day. I showered, brushed my teeth and put my hair up in a bun before finally falling asleep.

Early the next morning as soon as the rooster crowed, I woke up and stretched myself out. I got on the first pair of clothes I could find before heading downstairs to the kitchen to see Charles asleep on the couch. I grabbed an empty vase and filled it up with cold water. I walked over to Charles and shook him.

“Oi get up.” He groaned tiredly and turned away from me. Okay but don’t say I didn’t give him a chance. I then dumped water on his face which immediately woke him up.

“What the hell!?”

“Oh good you’re awake. Get up and get dressed.”

“For what?”

“Oh don’t tell me you forgot about our riding lesson.” He groaned again as he almost went back to sleep. “You know I can dump the rest of this water right? Or would you rather have me hogtie you till you scream uncle?”

“Didn’t know you were that kinky.” He teased as he peeked out from underneath his pillow. I blushed and turned aside before dragging his butt out of the couch.

“Just get dressed and meet me in the stable!” I didn’t once look back at him as I raced outside and ran towards the barn.

I had just finished saddling up Whiskey and now I was saddling up my stallion “Tornado”, a pure black mustang. Few years back Stoney and I came across him after he had a nasty encounter with a mountain lion. After chasing the demon cat away, Stoney and I took Tornado to the farm and I stayed with him and healed him up.

Now if I told you it was all trust and immediate connection between us, you’re wrong. Tornado definitely proved himself to be a pure, wild stallion. Hell if I didn’t know any better I’d say he was the leader of his herd. He wouldn’t even let me anywhere near him for 3 days till finally his injuries got so bad I feared he was gonna die.

So it was then I stepped in and cleaned out the injected wounds, wrapped him up and stitched him. Every now and then I gave him peace offerings of apples and water which he gladly took. Weeks passed and he showed great improvement, of course his wild nature still stayed (and of course I was dumb enough to think I could try to ride him, got my ass whooped a few times)

Finally I knew that I wouldn’t be able to ride him so I let him go. He raced off and never did I think I would see him again.

Until one day seven months after Stoney and I had rescued him; I was out alone scouting for the annual hog trails when the Spratt brothers tried yet another of their failed attempts to flirt with me. After I had denied them, the youngest and most relentless one Billy got so assertive that he had the nerve to cup a feel of me. Well I’ll have you know I didn’t take that sitting down, so I gave him a right hook so hard, I heard a crack of his nose.

Pissed and beyond angry that I had the nerve to attack his brother, Owen took me to the edge of the cliff we were on that overlooked the river and he pushed me down off the 10ft cliff. I fell into the river and was dragged down the rapid miles away from the trail.

As the river overtook me and forced me down underneath its rapid current, I thought I was dead for sure. But the next thing I see running up along the side of the river was a large black creature. I almost couldn’t believe it myself but I recognized that shape and pure black stallion anywhere, it was him. The wild mustang.

I watched as it jumped into the river and actually swam after me. He put himself between me and the rest of the current as I reached out and grabbed onto him. He then swam with all his might against the current to get us to the shoreline before the river could sweep us away further downstream.

I almost doubted it but Tornado proved to be one strong mustang. He reached the shore line and got me out of harm’s way. Exhausted from traveling down miles of strong rapids, I collapsed on the river’s edge and instead of him abandoning me. Tornado knelt down and stayed with me till I woke up around nightfall freezing cold.

When he noticed that I had woken up after passing out, he adjusted himself so that I could not climb up onto his back and actually ride him. He stood up and trotted back the 20 miles back to Stoney’s farm.

Now three years later, Tornado has not left my side. I saved his life and he repaid me back by saving mine. After that debt was paid, we had this—incredible bond, and that is something that no one can ever take away from us.

Once I hooked him up I said to him.

“I don’t know Tornado, maybe I’m just going crazy.” He nudged shoulder and gently nibbled the ends of my long hair. I giggled and shoved him away from my hair. He nickered at me as he moved his head towards mine so that he and I were staring at each other eye to eye. My forehead touching his muzzle. “You Mister are as much of a busybody as Stoney is.”

“So, are we doing this or not?” Charles’ voice suddenly rang out. I backed away from Tornado and I said.

“Well you seem eager.”

“Not really. I just didn’t want to get water dumped on my head again.” I scoffed softly as I grinned.

“Normally I’m a bit easier when it comes to wake up calls. But you’re still not getting the hang of being here on the farm are yah? Here we wake up as the sun rises and go to sleep as soon as it sets. If not for us you wouldn’t have any of those vegetables or fruits. Nor your wooly sweaters at Christmas time, or even the milk and eggs you eat every breakfast.”

“Alright, alright I get it. So—is the black one mine?”

“Not unless you wanna get kicked across the barn. Tornado don’t let anyone but me ride him.”

“Is he picky or just clingy to you?” Tornado huffed at Charles and I saw him stomp his front right hoof in a challenging gesture.

“Steady Tornado, steady. For your information smartass, he’s a pure bred wild stallion. He’s only ever really trusted me.”

“Why’s that?”

“That’s a story for another time. You’ll take Whiskey again, but before we ride; I’m gonna teach you the proper technique on how to mount him cause let’s face it, after yesterday—you’re gonna need it.” I walked up to him and he and I stood beside Whiskey.

I told him the proper way on how to mount a horse on the left side, how to hold the reins and which foot to step onto the stirrup before shifting your weight to fully mount the horse. I mounted onto Whiskey so that he could properly see how it was done before I got off of him and stood on the right side of him now.

“Okay city kid, your turn. Like I showed you, hold the reins first and foremost before you even think about stepping up.” He took hold of the reins and waited a bit for Whiskey to get used to him before he used his left foot to get on the stirrup. He counted down softly to himself before finally hauling himself over with ease and as soon as he was on Whiskey, Whisk started acting up again, this time circling around nervously.

“Okay, okay now what—hey, hey what do I do now?”

“Take hold of the reins and even them out. Don’t grip them though. If you hold them too tight, it’ll show Whiskey you’re nervous. Ease and loose.” He did as I told him and Whisky immediately calmed down his nervous circling. “Now with your legs, don’t tuck them inward. Let them come outward. Have you ridden a motorbike or anything?”

“I once went boat racing with some friends of mine one summer.”

“Okay that’s good. You know how you have your legs relaxed and your knees pointed outward?” he nodded. “Do that.” He adjusted his knees and for the first time Whiskey didn’t react at all.

“I did it. I did it!” Charles laughed happily.

“Great kid don’t get cocky yet. You just got on the horse. Now you need to learn to ride.” I grabbed my hunting rifle and wrapped it around my shoulder before I mounted on Tornado and urged him outside with both my right foot and clicking my tongue.

Charles followed awkwardly behind me, I could hear him nervously telling Whisky to slow down.

“Telling him to slow down will only make him speed up. Try not to have your legs kick him every time too, that’s a sign to him that you want to go faster. And keep those reigns even.”

“Maybe we should just give this up. There’s no way I’m ever gonna ride a horse in New York City.” Charles whined. I stopped Tornado and turned him around and I said to Charles.

“Listen Charles; I know you think this is pointless. But out here, this is life. Best way any of us get around here is through horseback. Not everyone is automatically born a horse rider. We all had to learn, your grandad, Shuck, the Sheriff, even me. Hell I was worse than you were when I first started. But how bout I give you a little piece of advice my teacher gave me.”

“What?”

“He told me ‘(Y/n), life is like a horse itself. Somedays you’ll be riding freely like a bird in the sky. Other days it’ll haul you off and slam you smack down into the ground it’s like all your insides are busted. But it’s up to you to get back on that horse and ride on. Cause if you don’t, then you’re just sitting there in the dirt watching life go by without you. And only the dead need to do that’.” Charles looked at me in awe and he said.

“Damn. That’s—that’s deep.” I nodded. “Who was your teacher?” I smiled softly and said.

“You’re living with him.” We continued onward the trail and didn’t speak another word to each other for a while.

As the day got brighter and the sun moved higher into the sky we finally reached the entrance to the forest trail, the perfect place to get Shuck a deer.

“We’ll tie off the horses here and continue on foot.” I urged Tornado onward closer to the forest. Charles urged Whiskey behind me, suddenly a bunch of birds suddenly flew out from the bush which startled Whiskey and the next thing I heard was Charles exclaiming as he was knocked off to the ground and Whiskey running into the forest.

I steadied Tornado and got off his back and raced towards Charles and stood over him.

“Can you move?”

“I think so.” I held my hand out to him and he took it. I helped him up and groaned in pain as he rubbed his head.

“You don’t have a concussion do yah?”

“Yeah, my vision isn’t blurry or anything.”

“Good. Well most likely Whisk ran about several yards into the forest. He usually don’t stay scared for long when something startles him, especially if he finds something to eat.” We walked towards Tornado and I grabbed his reins and we walked into the forest.

Low and behold we soon found Whiskey standing beside a tree eating some grass and wild flowers not even a half mile as soon as we entered the forest. I walked up to him and grabbed his reins and said to him.

“A bunch of sparrows Whiskey and you go running off like a big fat ninny!” he raised his head and allowed me to tie his reins to the tree. I whistled for Tornado and he came up to me and allowed me to take the saddle off of him to lighten him up.

“Aren’t you gonna tie him up too?”

“He gets restless is he stays tied up. So I allow him to just roam around a bit whenever I go out hunting or we go for a ride. But he knows to stay close so that he can hear me call out for him when I need him. Like I said, pure blood wild mustang. You can take him out of the wild, but you can’t take the wild out of him.” I took the reins off of him and he happily spat out the metal bars between his teeth and shook his head.

I smiled and stroked up his muzzle as he nickered in gratitude before turning around and trotting off deeper into the woods. I hung the reins over a thick branch right beside where Whiskey was tied up and took my hunting rifle off my shoulders. Standing there for a bit I looked around and said.

“This way.” We walked Northeast for about 10 minutes till we finally reached a good rest stop near a small creek where animals would be coming for a drink. Charles and I perched up against a tree and waited.

“So—how did you become part of my grandfather’s farm?” a slight smile came at the corner of my mouth.

“That is a long story.”

“I think we got time.” I adjusted myself to fully turn towards him.

“Your grandad has been with me since all before I was born. My father used to help him out when he was growing up before he met my mom. Sadly when I was born, my mama died. Complications from the birth or something like that. After that, my dad was ruined. He drank—a lot. Then when I was—six, maybe seven my dad got the final strike when he and I got into a car accident when he was drinking and driving. After that, Sheriff put him away and Stoney actually stepped up and took me in.”

“I’m—I’m so sorry (y/n) I……”

“Didn’t know. It’s fine. I…..really don’t like to talk about it much. Never went to see my dad cause let’s be honest he never really was a father to me. I was just a visitor to him. Sometimes he’d get so drunk he’d get confused and just call me ‘little tenant’. So Sheriff did me a solid and I hold no grudge against him. Until I was told when I was 14 that my dad died in prison. I never really cared to ask how he died. But Stoney’s been good to me, as have Shuck and the Sheriff.”

Suddenly the sound of a twig snapping alerted me. I cocked my gun and raised it up to my eye as I aimed forward towards the shrub. Only to see a mother deer step out and a second later, her baby. I lowered the gun and smiled lovingly as the mother deer and her baby walked towards the creek to get a drink.

“Do you—ever miss your mom?” I heard Charles ask. I looked up at him and that’s when he said, “Sorry stupid question.”

“No it’s not stupid. And yeah. I wish I got to know her, that way I could decide for myself whether we would get along or just end up hating each other.” The reason why I mostly said that was cause I knew how Charles was towards his mom. His face immediately turned to regret as he said.

“Guess I should really rethink about how my mom’s been treating me lately.”

“Take it from me Charlie boy. Never take life for granted, cause you never know when you got something that someone else doesn’t. Be thankful that your mom is still in your life and is doing what she does because she loves you. Yeah it may seem cold at times but that’s tough love. And coming from your grandfather’s bloodline no doubt she’s a Wooly girl, just in a city environment and adapting as the times and laws change.”

It was then we both heard the chittering of squirrels just nearby. One squirrel had a surprisingly good sized nut all to himself but there was another squirrel slowly creeping up on him wanting to steal it.

“You know if you wanna hear something really stupid. When I was a kid, sometimes I used to commentate on what an animal might be thinking in a situation.”

“Seriously?” he chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah go on laugh it up.”

“No I’m not laughing. I think it’s—kinda cute. What do you imagine those squirrels are saying right now?” I chuckled and said.

“Well the one with the nut is probably saying ‘hmm I lucked out today. Got me a really big nut. This’ll last me till winter time for sure.’ Now the one coming up behind him is saying, ‘that nut will be mine. Bucky always gets the big nuts, well not this time’.” We then watched as the squirrel behind quickly stole the other squirrel’s nut and took off running.

As the squirrel who had the nut previously chased after the thief squirrel I continued to commentate the chase scene.

“Oi Daryl that’s my nut give it back!”

“No way Buck finders keepers!”

“I found it give it back you thieving rodent!” Charles softly laughed hearing my ‘squirrel’ voices as we watched the two squirrels chase each other up and around the tree they were standing near.

Unaware that the mother deer and her fawn had left and that another deer was coming in for a drink. This time an adult male one.

Charles and I continued to watch the squirrel’s chase each other and I continued my commentary till I stopped when I heard a twig snap. I turned my head and that’s when the large buck and I met eye to eye. Slowly and carefully I raised my gun back up to my eye as the buck soon took off running.

“Cover your ears!” I said to Charles as I fired the shot and the buck immediately dropped to the ground mid run. After a few minutes of it not moving, we walked towards it and I handed him some leather gloves. “Put these on. Never know with bucks, I heard of one case where someone took a 8 pointer buck without gloves and ended up with lime disease.”

I put my gloves on as well and the two of us worked together to carry the 6 pointer buck back towards Whiskey.

After getting him tied onto the Whiskey’s back, I whistled for Tornado and within minutes he came trotting back towards us.

“Hey big guy, have a good time roaming?” he nodded as he nickered happily. “I’ll bet you did. Unfortunately though, we’re gonna have to saddle you back up boy. But we’ve done what we needed to do. Come on boy let’s get you hooked up.” I walked back to get his saddle up ready for travel. Once he was good and ready, I mounted onto him and said, “Alright, let’s go.”

It was roughly mid afternoon when we were about 3/4th of the way back to Stoney’s farm when I stopped by the river and I said.

“Hey Charles,”

“Yeah?” I got off of Tornado’s back and I said as I grabbed the pail bucket from one of the tacks I had on him, “I just remembered I promised the Sheriff some of Stoney’s fresh river water. Think you can fill this pail up to that I can take it to him?”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Yeah and leave you to watch Tornado? Please he’d snap you like a twig.” Tornado gave a proud huff as Charles submitted.

“Fair enough.” He got off of Whiskey and took the pail from me and jogged towards the river. As soon as he went down, I smirked and got off of Tornado and whispered into his ear of my devious plan. I saw Tornado blink one eye at me, like he was winking at me before he silently walked towards Charles. Oh man was this city kid gonna get a surprise.

Tornado finally stood over Charles and he still had no idea what to expect. Next thing he would know was something shoving him into the water. As he fell into the river, I couldn’t help myself from laughing, while Tornado reared up and whinnied what sounded like a laugh.

“Did you tell him to do that?!” I walked towards the river’s edge wiping a tear away.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. You’re just too easy. Here, let me help you.” I reached my hand out for him. He took my hand before he said.

“No, let me help you.” next thing I knew, I was pulled into the river right next to him. I resurfaced and saw him now laughing at me. I splashed some water in his face to shut him up and soon it escalated into a water fight between the two of us.

After our water fight ceased, Charles and I stared at each other exhaustedly. The way his auburn hair shined under the sun reminded me of the reddish tint that the sunset makes especially during the summer time. And the way his pale skin gleamed off of the water’s reflection, it was like looking into a fresh pail of milk. The two of us continued to stare at each other till he finally broke the silence.

“(Y/n)?”

“Uhh—yeah?” I whispered softly.

“Do you……uhh….I mean has anyone t-told you—” he stammered nervously.

“Told me what?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have really pretty—”

“So there you two are. I was beginning to think you both decided to hit the trail and take off out of the state line.” We looked up and there on their horses were Stoney and Shuck.

“Sorry Stoney, we were just……” I started off before Stoney once again said.

“No need to explain. We can see what’s going on here.”

“It’s not like that you old coot!”

“Seems our horse whisperer has finally gotten on the horse after all.” Shuck teased. I groaned and got out of the water as Charles followed behind me.

“Here Shuck, I got you yah damned deer. My debt has been paid and now I bid you all adios.” I said as I unhooked the deer from Whiskey and dropped it at Shuck’s horses feet before going on Tornado and riding off back to the ranch.

As the day went on I avoided Charles or anyone for that matter. I kept myself busy around the farm, caring for the sheep and of course taking care of the horses. Currently I was brushing Tornado’s mane when I heard the voice of the boy I really didn’t want to hear right now.

“Hey (y/n).” I circled around Tornado to hide my face from him as I kept brushing Tornado. “Are you really not gonna talk to me anymore? You’ve been avoiding me all day.” I bit my bottom lip as Tornado looked right at me with a slight huff. He lowered his head and nudged me away from his side before finally nudging me outward so that I now stood in front of him, but also in Charles’ line of sight.

“Damn you stallion.” I muttered to my horse as he bopped his head up and down nickering and whinnying. I turned towards Charles and I said.

“Okay. You’ve got me now. Now what is it?”

“Well when you talk like that it almost makes me not want to say it at all.” He grouched.

“Well sorry I wasted your time then.”

“What is wrong with you?” I scoffed. “No seriously, ever since the lake you’ve gone back to the cold-hearted girl that I first met when I came here. Did I do something wrong? Cause I swear I didn’t know Stoney or Shuck would come looking for us.”

“No it’s not something you did per-say.”

“Then what is it? Tell me cause right now I’m completely……”

“I LIKE YOU OKAY!?!?” There was dead silence in the air. Charles’s eyes turned from anger to shock in the manner of a second. His mouth slightly dropped as he just gawked at me.

“You….. you like me?”

“Please don’t make me say it again Charles. I—I’ve never really been interested in any of the boys in this town, but then your grandad drags you here and……I don’t know you made me feel things I’ve never felt before. But I didn’t want to be all smoochy-gooey-goo about it. That’s just real sissy stuff but I—” I was interrupted by feeling Charles grab my arms and shutting me up with a kiss.

I froze right there on the spot for a moment not even believing what was happening till finally I succumbed and kissed him back. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I felt his wrap around my waist bringing me closer. After awhile we separated for air, our breaths mixing in together in a warm dance.

“I—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I….I didn’t mean to do that. I mean not the kiss that I mean kiss you so suddenly, I was just….” This time I interrupted him with a kiss. This time, it was much more softer and meaningful. I separated from him and he whispered. “Your eyes.”

“My what?”

“Back at the lake. I—was going to say you have really pretty eyes.” I smiled happily and leaned my forehead against his.

“Thank you. No one’s….ever really said that to me.”

“I’m more than happy to say it to you as many times as you want. Hell I’ll say you have a pretty foot if you want me to.” We both laughed and I said through my giggles.

“Please don’t though. I’ll just take the ‘pretty eyes’ compliment.”

“Hate to break it to you angel, but I’m gonna add more cute body parts to compliment.”

“Such as?” he cupped my face in his hands and just stared into my eyes.

“Well I love this pretty nose,” he kissed my nose. “And these pretty cheeks,” he kissed both my cheeks, “Especially when they get red from either the sun or from you blushing.” He teased. I poked his side which made him curl inward for a brief moment before he continued, “And those pretty lips.” He gave me a soft and ginger kiss. “I especially love your lips. They’re not all poofed up or overly coated with lipstick like the girls have back home. It’s natural, with a hint of cherry chap stick.”

“Farm work can cause chapped lips. And the cherry was the only flavor available when I first started working here. Guess it just kinda stuck.”

“Well I love it, please keep getting that flavor.” I nodded as he leaned in and captured my lips one more time in a passionate kiss. This time I was now pinned up against the wall and I felt Charles’ hand slowly slid down my side, to my hips and slowly back around.

But before I could feel his hand go any closer towards my butt, that’s when Tornado let off a warning neigh. Not just any type of neigh, it’s the type of neigh that almost makes a horse sound just like a demon. Charles immediately backed up as Tornado huffed through his nose and glared at him. I laughed softly and said.

“Oh you mind your own business Tornado. I’ll bet you were way worse with the mares of your herd.” I playfully swatted him with my cowgirl hat and he walked back towards his stable but kept his eyes on Charles. After locking him up in his stable, I turned back towards my auburn city boy and took his hand and the two of us walked out of the stable together.

“Is he ever gonna warm up to me?”

“After seeing that, probably not. But no worries, I think the only approval you’ve got to face and already gained was your grandad’s and Shuck’s.”

From that day on, Charles and I continued to grow closer and closer with each other. He slowly improved on his farming skills and dare I say, he went from city boy to Wooly boy in a matter of a few weeks. Never have I been more proud to call that city kid my boyfriend.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello imagines #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello fanfiction #wooly boys #joe mazzello wooly boys #wooly boys fanfic #wooly boys imagine #wooly boys imagines #joe mazzello fluff #wooly boys fanfiction

55 notes · View notes

a-vintage-snake · 5 years

Text

The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go

Pairing(s): Romantic Dukeceit

Warnings: Self deprecation, mentions of shitty parenting, Remus being Remus Characters: Deceit Sanders, Remus Sanders, Virgil and Roman are there for like a paragraph, Logan is mentioned exactly once.

Summary: There lives a warlock in the mountains, and Remus is determined to hunt him down.

Word Count: 4861

Edit: This is now officially has a sequel! Read it here

Read on AO3 Author’s Note: I love Deceit and Remus, and I wrote this instead of sleeping

There lived a warlock in the mountains. At least that was what Remus was counting on. So far he hadn’t gotten a glance of the fucker yet, but he was nothing but optimistic.

He spurred his horse on for what felt like the thousandth time that hour. Realistically, Remus knew that the mare was exhausted and they both needed sleep soon. But he didn’t want to waste time resting when he could find his goal (hopefully) any minute now! The sun was nearly setting and he wanted to explore as much ground as he could while he could still travel without risking falling down one of the mountain’s cliffs that twisted alongside the path he was following. What would it be like to fall down from such a height? Would he crunch his head on the spikey rocks below? Splatter his brain in a pretty pattern on the rocks- Or maybe he would fall with his feet first, causing his bones to rip through his flesh and- Remus shook his head to chase away the thoughts like an annoying fly. Usually he would delight in thinking all the options through, but not right now. He had a mission goddammit, and it needed all his attention.

He had heard all the stories of this warlock figure. All the vague whispers that people would delight in telling and listening to, despite the fear. The warlock ate children who got lost in the woods; he took young men and women to experiment on them in his hidden castle. Tell him your name, and he would take control over your mind. He hid away in the Desolate Mountains, waiting for the day he could capture the kingdom for himself. He was the kingdom’s greatest threat. The warlock was a monster. At this point of the stories Remus always interrupted saying that he thought “Desolate Mountains” was a really lazy fucking name and honestly where was the name giver’s creativity? This was always followed by the storyteller and listeners screaming at him to get away, we never invite you for a reason, we don’t want you here, how did you even get in here but Remus always prided himself in asking the questions people would rather not ask, hear or experience. That’s how he found himself at one point sitting atop the worktable of the court sorcerer. “So this warlock fellow-” “Your Grace, could you kindly get off my work?” “How would one kill him? Is it like vampires? Stake through the heart? Although really, you can kill anything with a stake through the heart, why do vampires think they’re so special?” Remus sent a wide grin towards the purple-clad figure on the other end of the table, who was glaring at him so hard his pupils were barely visible through the dark marks around his eyes. The court sorcerer looked ready to summon the shadows he controlled so effortlessly, and have them throw Remus out of the nearest window. Ha, jokes on him though! That would be considered treason! “Or is it more like witches? Burn him at the stake? Or drown him? Heh, have you ever wondered what it would feel like to drown?” “Geez, why don’t you go to one of the garden’s fountains and find out?” Virgil bit out through gritted teeth. Remus fell back cackling, rolling in the sorcerer’s precious notes for good measure. “You’re so funny Virge! The funniest little shadow we got around here!” “Look, your Grace,” Virgil bit out the title like it was an insult. “If I knew anything about the warlock in the mountains, I would tell you-” “Oh come ooooooooon!” Remus whined. “You do magic, you gotta know how to end him somehow! Give me something to work with! Chop his head off? Recite some spells? Ooh what’s this??” Virgil quickly snatched the bottle with the bubbling silver liquid away from Remus’ curious hands. “This is an erosion potion.” Virgil grumbled. “One drop and a rock the size of a man will melt away like water.” “How fun! Have you ever used it on people?” “What? No, of course not-!” “Well you should, for science’s sake- Logan would appreciate the experiment!” “You know I highly doubt he would-” “Ooooh, why don’t we ask the scholar himself that? Bet the nerd would love to participate-!” “LOOK,” Virgil took a very deep breath through his nose, and exhaled through his mouth. “No one knows how to defeat the warlock, okay?? If I knew, I would have done it years ago!” “Boooo, you’re no fun.” “Hell, if anyone could kill him,” Virgil continued on, ignoring Remus. “That person would be hailed as a hero! But knights and heroes who go in the mountains disappear without a trace, and we can’t-” Virgil’s sentence was cut off when he was tackled by a green and black blur to the ground. Letting out a litany of curses, he went to push the squirming prince off of him, but he stopped in his tracks when he looked at Remus’ face. The prince’s lips were turned in the most manic grin Virgil had ever seen on him, and his eyes were wide as saucers. “ ‘Hailed like a hero…?’ ” Remus whispered. “Are you sure about that…?” “Uuhm… Yes?” Virgil answered. “AWESOME!!” Remus screamed in his face, before scrambling up and running from the room in a flurry of thrown about papers and slamming doors. Virgil sat up, utterly bewildered at the sudden exit. But eventually he shrugged. At least he had some peace and quiet now… Remus didn’t stop running until he burst into his room, where he changed into his best traveling clothes, put on his warmest cloak and started grabbing his favourite weapons to bring with him, along with his beloved morning star that he grabbed off the wall. After that he ran to the castle’s kitchens, where he under wild protests of the cooks shoved various foods and a water bottle in his bag. Then he proceeded to dash to the stables, where he screamed at the nearest stable boy to prepare his favourite mare for traveling. “Remus?” A voice behind him asked. When Remus whirled around, he was faced with the confused stare of his twin brother. “What the hell are you doing?” “No time to talk bro-bro!” Remus hauled himself up the horse. “I’m off to kill the warlock that lives in the mountains!” “Wait, what?” Roman’s mouth fell open. “Are you nuts? You can’t just-” “Don’t wait up for me!” Remus yelled as he spurred his horse in a gallop, out of the castle’s gate. “BYYYYEE!!”

That was three days ago. Three days where he barely slept, ate while riding and only ever stopped to allow himself and his horse the bare minimum of rest. And now here he was, leading the mare on coiling paths through the treacherous cliffs and the dwindling treeline. And he still hadn’t caught a glimpse of this supposed warlock. Or his stupid hidden castle! Although, Remus considered, if he could easily find it he supposed it was a pretty shit hidden castle. The last light of twilight was almost gone. Grumbling to himself, Remus reluctantly halted and stepped off his horse. After tying her to a nearby tree and giving her some water, Remus searched for firewood and made a small fire. He then proceeded to very grumpily stare into the flames. Tomorrow he would search harder. He would find that son of a bitch, chop his head off and bring it gift wrapped back to his mother and father. And then he would get a statue, and a song written for him, and- And had it been this misty the whole time? Remus quickly sat up, his hand flying to his morning star. Tendrils of mist had surrounded him, and moved in closer with a fluidity and grace that reminded Remus of how Virgil would move shadows in his hand. Excitedly Remus got up his feet, hands bringing up his weapon and a frenzied giggle leaving his mouth. Finally finally finally-!! “Show yourself!!” He yelled. “You’re a long way from home, sir knight.” A dark, crooning voice answered him. Remus twisted around. In the light of the fire, Remus could make out the tall, slender figure of a man standing between two trees. The mist seemed to curl itself around the man, like a cat greeting it’s master. The man was dressed in all black, and a large hood was pulled over his head, shielding his face away from Remus’ eyes. Remus squinted at the hooded figure. “Are you the warlock that lives in these mountains?” He asked. No use accidentally shanking the wrong guy. The man made a dismissive hand wave. “I suppose I am. But pray tell, who are-” Remus didn’t let him finish. With a vicious battle cry he lifted his morning star over his head and charged towards the hooded man. He swung his weapon towards the figure… And only met thin air. He stumbled, but quickly regained his balance to look for his target. Where the fuck did that slippery eel go? “My, aren’t you an impolite one.” Came the cool voice from behind him. Remus whipped around, seeing the warlock study him with a tilted head. Once more Remus charged at him full speed, hoping to strike his morning star right into the man’s side. But yet again, the man disappeared the second Remus tried to hit him. “What exactly are you hoping to gain from this?” The warlock’s voice came from his right. He appeared unbothered by the attacks or the furious glare Remus threw him. Remus once again ran to attack the man, and let out a frustrated screech when the warlock disappeared and reappeared behind him before he could land a blow. “Stop moving!” He hollered. “Let me think. Hmmmm, no.” This continued on for a minute, and Remus’ assaults only grew more frenzied with every failed hit. He grit his teeth so hard he was surprised he didn’t break his molars with the sheer force of it. His grip tightened on his morning star. He was going to beat this guy to a bloody pulp. He was going to chop his stupid head off, and break every part of the rest of his body, grind his bones into dust, eat his fucking organs until nothing was left-! “This is getting tiresome…” The warlock sighed. “Then actually come out and FACE ME, YOU-” “Look into my eyes.” The voice suddenly boomed from his right. Remus’ head turned so quickly his neck gave a painful crick, glee already flooding him because his target was right there all he had to was- And beautiful swirling golden eyes met his gaze. Remus stopped his movements abruptly. His mind was startled in unexpected silence, but he didn’t care or bother to question why. All he wanted to do was to keep staring into those golden eyes. “That’s right,” The smooth voice purred, and oh. That was possibly even better. The soft rumble of the warlock’s voice seemed to fill every nook and cranny of Remus’ head. Every crammed little corner emptied of its contents and instead replenished with gold and honeyed words. “Now darling,” The warlock hummed. “How about you throw all the weapons you have on you into that ravine over there, and then we’ll have a civilized conversation? Wouldn’t you like that?” Remus nodded and turned to stiffly walk towards the edge of the cliff. He immediately missed the golden gaze on him, so he swiftly went to work. First he threw his morning star down in the depths, followed by the sword on his side, then the daggers in his boots, the small axe and the blades on his belt, the kitchen knife he had grabbed last minute for good measure- Behind him the warlock chuckled. “Not sure if I should be scared or impressed.” The warm amusement in the man’s tone curled itself up in Remus’ chest and made him feel all kinds of weird and fuzzy. He wanted to make the other laugh and smile more, just to have that feeling all the time. Disposing his last weaponry down the cliff, Remus turned again towards the other. The warlock had sat himself down on a large boulder, and gave him a small nod. “Very good. Now come here.” The man beckoned with one finger. Remus didn’t need to be told twice. Eagerly he marched up towards the other man, and dropped himself on his knees in front of him. And before he could think about it, Remus buried his face into the other man’s lap, his fingers curling into the warlock’s pants’ leg. The warlock stiffened at the sudden contact, but Remus barely noticed. God, he just wanted to be closer, closer- “Well this is new...” The voice murmured above him. Remus froze. Fuck fuck fuck, he did something weird again, he had screwed up, why did he do that, why was he like this-! All panic was immediately silenced when a hand gently started carding through his hair. Sighing, Remus practically melted into the soft contact. A low keen left his throat at the feeling of sharp nails lightly grazing his head, causing the most pleasant shivers to roll down Remus’ spine. “Let’s try this again, shall we? You may call me Deceit. And what’s your name, bold knight?” Somewhere in his head an alarm bell started ringing, but Remus took that bell and beat it to a flat mash before kicking it right into the sun. “My name’s Remus… Remus Alveraz…” He muttered. “Oh my… Am I in the presence of genuine royalty?” Deceit played with the silver lock in Remus’ hair. “I feel honoured. And to what exactly do I owe this privilege?” He should probably lie to him. In fact, lying was absolutely the best option if he wanted the soft touches to continue. However the second the possibility of lying crossed Remus’ mind his head seemed to clog with a dense fog. Above him the warlock gave a soft tut in disappointment. “No use lying to me dear,” Deceit slightly scolded. “Come now, you can tell me…” He didn’t want to, he absolutely did not want to, but the thick fog made even the smallest white lie seem like a herculean task. “I came here to kill you...” Remus relented quietly. Immediately the fog lifted from his mind. And weirdly enough, the hand didn’t stop caressing his hair. “Funnily enough, I figured that out that much.” The amusement was back, and with it the fuzzy feeling in Remus’ chest. “And why were you sent on such a quest, hmm? Didn’t whoever sent you warn you of the stories? Those who enter the mountains shall never return I do believe it was.” “I wasn’t sent by anyone,” Remus muttered. “I wanted to do this myself.” “Ah, that explains some of it,” Deceit said. “So why exactly did you want to do this then?” Remus opened his mouth, ready to answer with for the glory of the kingdom, so his country would be free of fear, so the people could sleep easily again, so he could be their hero. Before even a syllable could leave his mouth the fog clouded his mind once more, even denser than before. His reasons choked on his tongue as he struggled to speak. “You’re lying, little prince. And not even to me, but to yourself. Which I always considered far worse than lying to the world.” The hand in Remus’ hair tightened and his head was turned sideways, so he could glance up at the man above him. The shining golden eyes were the only things visible under the hood and their beauty entranced Remus once more. “Tell the truth.” Deceit whispered. “I… I wanted…” Remus struggled to answer through the fog. “Tell the truth.” The warlock commanded. The power of the order settled heavily in Remus’ bones. “I just wanted people to see me.” The admission left him in a rush, and the mist in his head finally disappeared. Whatever Deceit had seemed to expect, this wasn’t it. The hand released his hair, and Remus immediately turned his head to hide his face back into the other man’s lap. The truth stung on his tongue. “And why exactly do you think people don’t see you…?” Deceit’s voice was thoughtful. “Aren’t you their beloved prince?” A bitter laugh left Remus before he could stop himself. “No no no no… Roman is the beloved one of the two of us. Perfectly charming perfect prince. People fall over their feet to wave at him, would chop their own kid’s fingers off for a chance to kiss his ass and all that shit, and I’m…” For once in his life Remus actually wanted to stop talking. But whatever spell was compelling him forced the truth out he had been ignoring for years. “I’m the spare. They don’t see me; they just see a failed version of Roman. The unwanted child. The family disappointment. Good for nothing, weird, scary, stupid freak of nature. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-!” “Enough.” The order came out quiet like a hush, but Remus immediately stopped talking. Calmly he waited for Deceit to throw him off, to sneer and mock him for his not so royal behaviour. Perhaps the warlock would use him for ransom to get the kingdom from his mom and dad. Although, seeing as what Remus just admitted, it would probably be more likely he’ll just kill him and be done with it. He found that the thought didn’t really scare him. Just as he considered if Roman would miss him, Remus startled as he felt the warlock’s hand go back to ever so gently caressing his hair. Carefully he peeked back up to the other man. The golden eyes had lessened in their intensity, and Remus knew it was wishful thinking when he thought he saw sympathy in them. “Who made you believe that about yourself, little prince?” Deceit asked softly. The question surprised him. Remus shrugged. “It’s just the truth… I’ve always been the fuck up. I can’t do anything right. I couldn’t learn properly when I was a kid, my interests are weird, I’m too much…” “Too much of what?” “Everything! Too loud, too distractive, too grotesque, too annoying,” Remus rambled up from his head, repeating the words teachers, nannies, tutors, friends and family had told him over the years. When he just couldn’t sit still during lessons, because why would he when there were thousands more interesting things to do. “You’re a bad example for the others!” When he struggled with understanding the lesson material because he just couldn’t focus on it no matter hard he tried. “You’re just being lazy.” When he rambled on about his favourite gruesome stories and fairy-tales almost without being able to stop because they were so interesting! “I think he’s disturbed.” When he played with the other children and made them cry when he played too rough, spoke too loud, told too many scary stories. “You’re a freak!” When he pulled his twin brother along with his mischief and he ended up the only one being punished. “You’re a bad child.” When his parents praised Roman, only to send disappointed glares towards him. “Why can’t you be more like your brother?” Not good enough, no matter what he did. Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. NEVER GOOD ENOU- “Remus.” The soft voice jump startled Remus out of his spiral. His throat had tightened and his eyes were prickling. Without realizing he had tightened his fingers nearly painfully in the fabric of the warlock’s pants. He quickly loosened them. “ ‘m sorry…” Remus mumbled. Sorry I exist. “No need…” Deceit shushed. “There’s no reason to apologize.” Silence settled between the two men for a while. The warlock sat in quiet consideration, while Remus tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He shut his eyes tightly to keep the prickling of tears back. Fuck, he thought he didn’t care… He thought he had hardened his heart enough that it stopped bothering him years ago, how no one could look at him without disgust or annoyance. Turns out he lied more to himself than he was willing to admit. Remus focused with all his might on the soft stroking of his hair that, despite everything, was still happening. He couldn’t quite believe his luck. Most people had shoved him away by now. “Now what I don’t understand yet,” Deceit finally spoke up. “Is why you thought killing me would help you?” Remus gave another half-hearted shrug. “I mean, you’re the country’s biggest enemy…” “Am I? My goodness, I feel flattered.” Deceit said flatly. “Roman always gets praise whenever he slays a monster… And he can’t come after you! Mom and dad made Roman promise them that he would never try to find and defeat you.” That had been when they were both teenagers. “… And they never made you promise not to do that?” Remus didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His silence said enough. He heard Deceit take a very deep breath. “So you hoped that if you brought back my head, you would get their artificial praise and magically all their neglect would go away?” Deceit’s voice had taken a biting edge. “I guess… I mean, Virgil said that-” “Virgil?” The hand stopped moving, eliciting a small whine from Remus. “As in Virgil Storm?” “Yeah…” Remus was surprised. The warlock knew the court sorcerer? “He told me that the first person to kill you would be hailed as a hero…” “The basssstard…” The warlock hissed out. “I taught him everything he knows, and this is how he repays me? Ungrateful little whelp…” Deceit continued quietly scowling, and Remus was caught between giggling over the warlock calling the scary court sorcerer a whelp and begging him to continue stroking his hair. In the end he kept quiet, despite how difficult that was. Eventually Deceit finished his little rant, and silence fell once more. Remus didn’t mind, since Deceit absent-mindedly started to massage his scalp, which made him want to melt into a little puddle of princely goo. “You’ve been mistreated, little prince…” Deceit said. “Terribly mistreated. The world saw that you were different, and immediately labelled you as defective. But I’ll let you in on a little secret…” Remus stiffened when the warlock leaned down closer to him, and he felt the other man’s breath on his ear. “There is nothing wrong with you.” Deceit whispered. “That they refused to open their minds to the potential you possess, is their loss and their loss alone. You are not broken, you are not useless or anything they tried to make you believe. You are whole, my prince. Complete, just the way you are.” Deceit sat back up, and Remus couldn’t hold back the tears prickling in his eyes anymore. A sob left him, loud and ugly, while his body started to tremble. Deceit rubbed his back, gently shushing him all the while. “It’s alright,” Deceit murmured. “You’re alright… Sleep now, dear.” At the warlock’s words, Remus felt his eyelids and body grow heavy. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but it felt like a thick, warm blanket slowly embraced him. The last thing he heard before he fell into a deep slumber were Deceit’s words; “Sleep now, and you’ll see… The morning will come with a better future.”

Waking up was a slow process. Remus felt like he was slowly floating down from a very warm cloud, and he didn’t quite wanted to be back on the ground just yet. He hadn’t slept this long and peacefully in years. So he stayed on that edge between sleeping and waking for as long as he could. When at last he blinked his eyes open, it took a few minutes of staring up at the dark wooden ceiling before he realized he didn’t recognize it. Wait, where was he…? Abruptly the memories of last night came flooding back. The mist, a soft hand in his hair, his impromptu confessions, and the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Wildly flailing Remus sat up and looked around. He was lying on a cot, and he had been covered with a soft wool blanket that he threw off with his sudden movements. To his right was a tall window, and in the final light of a distant sunset he could just make out the castle, his home on the horizon. Wait, sunset? Just how long had he been asleep? “Ah, so you’ve finally awakened.” Remus head whipped to his left, and he took in the rest of his surroundings. The room he was in had high ceilings, and every wall was covered in shelves filled to the brim with vials, jars and jugs. From the ceiling hung bones, dried herbs and something Remus recognized as massive dragon wings. A bookcase big enough to fit twice in his room was nestled in the far corner, stuffed with so many books that some were stacked in small piles in front of it. And illuminating the whole scene, a large cauldron sat on a simmering fire in the middle of the room, a yellow glow coming from the elixir being brewed in the iron pot. In front of the cauldron stood the warlock, his back to Remus. One of Deceit’s hands stirred the substance, while another grabbed a vial from a table next to him to add it’s contents to the elixir, another hand grabbed a handful of dried herbs to throw in as well, and yet another pair of hands held a book open-! Remus watched in utter fascination, as the warlock used no less than six arms to work tirelessly to make the potion in the cauldron. “You’ve slept for quite some hours,” Deceit said, not stopping or taking his eyes off the cauldron. “I was already beginning to think I used too potent of a spell on you.” Remus’ mouth opened and closed again. Thousands of questions were racing through his mind, ranging from Where the hell are we to What do you want from me and Are you aware you have six arms but what he eventually settled on was; “Why did you bring me here?” Deceit’s actions stilled. Gently, he set down the supplies in his hands and Remus’ eyes widened when the extra four arms seemed to retract back into the warlock until with a shudder they had disappeared. Then Deceit finally turned around. The large hood of his cloak was still hiding his face. Slowly Deceit approached the cot, and Remus, who absolutely was not the type of person to get scared easily, pressed his back into the window behind him while his heart thumped in his throat. There was a vague thought passing through his head that maybe the glass would crack and he would plummet to his death after all, but it was quickly dismissed when the warlock stopped in front of him… And moved to pull back his hood. First Remus noticed dark brown hair, in messy curls. Then he saw how the left half of the warlock’s face was attractively covered in dark green scales, which ran from his forehead over his cheek into his neck and disappeared under his collar. His eyes were not swirling gold this time- Instead Deceit’s right eye was a dark hazel, speckled with golden flecks. And the other… The other was a piercing yellow, with a split serpentine pupil. Those mismatched eyes took him in with a calculated look, and Remus’ heart started thumping louder, but no longer in fear. In fact, it started thumping so loud it felt like his heart wanted to tear bloodily through his ribs and flesh to get out. His stomach started doing all kinds of funny flip-flops as well. Distantly he was aware that his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t quite bring it up yet to care. Deceit smiled, revealing fanged teeth, and brought one slender, clawed finger under Remus’ chin to close his gaping mouth. “Careful, you might eat a fly,” Deceit said with a chuckle, and then sat down on the cot across from Remus. Which proved to be a test to his sanity, as Remus’ mind immediately started supplying him with all the creative things he could do to the warlock on that cot. Tracing his lips over the scales, seeing if they’re hot or cold, running his hands through those lovely curls, while fanged teeth bit Remus’ neck- “It’s impolite to stare, you know.” Deceit interrupted his thoughts. Remus shook himself away from the fantasy before it could get too detailed. “As for your question, well... We seem to have… Similar stories and motivations.” Deceit gave him a sly smirk, and if Remus hadn’t been gone yet, he would have fallen for that look hard. “I think we might be able to help each other out, don’t you agree?” Remus nodded so wildly he was surprised he didn’t snap his neck. Anything, he would do absolutely anything, if it meant that those mismatched eyes would remain on him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #dukeceit #demus #deceit sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #my very first sanders sides fic!

335 notes · View notes

devil-dxrling · 4 years

Text

SBR getting political, No.6

Pairing: Funny Valentine x Reader

Warnings: Smut, underage reader.

Words: 2162

Summary: He gets mad at her, but all’s well ends well.

He must have left the night before, maybe right after I fell asleep. I knew he had to take the train really early to San Diego. My mind had to unfortunately set him aside though, today was a special day because I had to dress up, get close to the rib cage, change my clothes to something good, and then catch Valentine’s attention. For half the journey I would wear a plain, loose white outfit. Shorts and a simple white shirt. Then, for the other half, I would change into something a bit more… Riské . It took me days to get to the motel where I would be stationed, but finally I arrived. The outfit I chose to wear was made of shiny, black latex and cooling material. It was a sweetheart neckline, skin-tight play-suit with booty shorts and accents around the waist and chest. It was corseted up in the back and was padded, making it more comfortable. I paired it with a pair of black, leather stiletto booties that were open-toed. Hoping I wouldn’t burn in the heat, I got onto my horse and followed a map. To be honest, everything happened extremely quickly, almost too quickly for me to comprehend it. I could hear chaos emerge from the horizon and saw a train, Valentine’s train. I sped behind a few buildings and carefully joined the plethora of people shooting at each other and being dicks. I might have been the only person to know where the rib cage actually was, it was to the left, not the right - so was his train. Luckily enough, I had a good idea of the cabin he was in, so I made my way closer until I spotted him, now to get his attention…

I pointed one of my custom revolvers to the train window where he sat, and shot. The window smashed open and his eyes shot to mine, menacingly. I smirked and lowered my gun, looking at him attentively as I saw his eyes slowly glide down my form. Smiling, I guided Dea closer to him. As I did, the train sped up, causing me to lean further onto the horse, arch out my back, point out my behind, and ride faster. My guns pointed, shooting at ugly red-necks that got in my way and distracting others as I fired up into the sky. Secretly, I would look back to the train, obviously he had to move, the window was smashed, but every now and then I would see him, chin resting on his hand, looking at me. Nice came upon us after a long day of riding and keeping up with a train. We had stopped at a city right next to the rib cage, but only I knew that. While everyone camped to the right, I stationed myself near the left, closer to the train. The good thing about wearing black was that you would blend in perfectly. When I got to the back of the train, there was a key, Funny has seen right through my actions. I opened the door to see a compartment that was much smaller than the other ones, but was still of adequate size. In the corner was a man, sitting on a chair; the room was dark and I couldn’t make out who it was, until he stood up and I had recognized his height immediately. Standing up, he walked to me and took my upper arm, pulling me into his chest. He was cold, and from what I could see, he held a stoic face, not calm and warm like it normally was, but stone and cold, and angry.

‘You really think you have the right to do these things to me,’ He whispered into your ear as he pulled you even closer. You could feel his dick, hard on your thigh, being uncomfortably enclosed by his pants. His undeniably pissed presence in the room made you quiver and shake in your boots. Turning to look up at him, you saw his face. I wasn’t even looking down to you, just straight forward. This brought you back down to earth. Reality hit you as you realized he was still the president, and you were nothing but scum compared to him. Throwing you off of himself, he paced towards the door, shut it, locked it, and locked the other one. Then, he turned to look at you, or more so in your direction, his head was still held high, refusing to look down.

‘Would you like me to pull down the blinds? Though, evaluating how you acted today during the race, I don’t think you even care if anyone sees us, do you? Today your actions were foolish, dim-witted, brainless and inept. You know how much shame could have been put onto me if they saw you looking at me like that? I showed how little respect you have for me, my reputation, and my reputability, and I just can’t let that happen anymore. And even now, what are you expecting? For me to please you? Well, you can take your whorish ass out of this train right now if that’s the sort of treatment you’re expecting! Get out before I rip this latex off your little, feeble body and toss you out there naked!’

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stood up and stumbled to the door, but it was locked. You I heard a sardonic laugh behind me as he closed the space between us, keys in hand, he unlocked the door. But before I had the chance to step out he pulled me close to him and gave my body a rough shove out of the train, and into the sand, uttering his final critical blows to my already crumpled heart:

‘Remember little bitch, I’m the fucking president.’

And with that the door was slammed shut and locked. I turned onto my front and I brought my arms up to my head and just lay there, crying out my bitter tears, until I suddenly stopped and realized something that made me want to vomit. I slowly rubbed my thighs together, why the fuck did I actually seem to enojy being yelled at? Nonetheless, I had to get up and find something different to wear.

I decided on plain black, loose pants with a red, lace up, leather top that had corset detailing the back and in the front. I wore the same heels, couldn’t really find anything better, and my black black flat-brimmed hat I had on me at all occasions. In the morning, I was raring to go. Some mascara was still smudged my cheeks from all the crying I did last night, but I had to put that thought aside. I was at the front of the line when the race started, and I could bet my money on the fact that I wouldn’t have to kill anyone to slip in and out with the part. I had one of my closest friends with me to take care of my horse because when I got the part, I would transfer over to the train and leave Dea with him. As we closed in, there were 3 ways that could be taken. I knew they would all end up leading to the same place, but I also knew I had to go left. The train went through the middle, it had to stay neutral and not give anything away. Finally, as I had no more eyes on me, I maneuvered left, with a few dozen or so people and we rode further on. From here, my memory is fuzzy from here, I just remember seeing the bones and racing toward them like everyone else. It would have been complete carnage if I hadn’t rode up to the guy wearing blue and yanked it from him before riding off up a short little cliff. Looking behind me, I saw my friend and then smiled, I whispered to Dea, ‘Stop at the cliff amore mia, I’ll be back. Ciao.’ And with that we reached the low cliff and I boosted myself off the horse and onto the far back of the train. The rib cage in my left hand, the key from last night in my right, I unlocked the door and swayed in, locking it back up before anyone saw me. I knew I was about 2 compartments away from the last one. Slowly, I walked through the empty bedroom compartments and kitchens and restaurants and bars until I came to a normal sitting compartment that I heard talking from. Bravely, I knocked onto the door as I heard all the guards inside cock their guns toward the door. Then, there was a shallow ‘Come in,’ which was probably Valentine being done with me.

I peaked my head out of the crack and then shot away from the door, instead putting the rib cage out. ‘Sir, she had the rib cage.’

‘Of course she does. Get in here woman.’

I cheeped in and walked to sit in front of him, carefully handing him the rib cage. After examining it closely, he gave it to one of the guards (who put it into a vault) and then looked back up at me, crossing one leg over the other and intertwining his fingers together in front of his face. His left hand unwound to wave the guards away as they left and locked the door behind them. Leaning back into his chair, he pointed towards the drinks onto the table, eyes still narrowed, observing my every move.

‘I’m so--’ I was cut off by him.

‘Don’t be, I went a bit hard on you, I’ll admit, you need to be taught a lesson.’

I just nodded my head while I poured myself some bitter brandy and leaned back, bringing the glass up to my lips. Out of nowhere, he leaned in and moved his right hand up my thigh, slowly, looking behind him, to make sure the door was shut and that there was nobody there. He stood up and took the glass before I could finish it, moving me around the table and bringing me onto his lap, moving his hands skillfully across my curves and resting them on my thighs.

‘Do you want me to do it again?’ Did he know about how I felt last night? Did he see me rub my thigh together when I was in the sand? Did I really embarrass myself that much?

‘I saw you last night, on the floor, rubbing your pretty little thighs together, you liked to be berated, didn’t you, little slut.’ I was nothing like in those romance novels where the man would whisper sweet nothings into her ear, instead it was insults that burned me to my core. At one point I raised my hand up to punch him, but he grabbed my wrist and twisted it painfully. A cry left my lips as I felt myself get wet and try to squeeze my thighs together.

‘You want me to go back to being nice? Want all of this to stop? Want me to let you control the situation? You want me to submit?’ I seriously couldn't take any more of his deep voice whispering things into my ear, my mouth jumped towards his and we locked lips, roughly. We bit at each others lips in a dance of rough passion. Our clothes were scraped and he pushed me down onto the floor of the train, pinning my wrists above my head and diving down to leave all sorts of marks on my neck. I could feel the dumps below me as he continued to mark me as his own. I was brought back to reality as I felt him kiss my thigh and move up towards my wet pussy. I felt his tongue slowly move along my folds, slightly slipping in from time to time, but I wasn’t enough to bring me to orgasm. One of my hands slid down to grab his hair and push it down, but I was grabbed and twisted again, making me scream in pain and pleasure. Vision getting blurry, I felt him finally slip into me and stretch me out with his cock. It went on for about half an hour, he edged me twice, pissed me off to the point I slapped him across his perfectly chiseled jaw, and then let me cum, slapping my ass in return. He knelt there, once we were done, not even looking up at me, instead looking above me. I hauled my arm to take his chin and move his face down, so he could look at me. A smirk adorned his face as he got me to get dressed and sat me on his lap, giving a ring to his guards, telling them they could come in. He petted my head quietly as we sat there, I slowly drifted off to sleep. Wow, this really was one bizarre train of events.

#jojos bizarre adventure #funny valentine #x reader #smut #'SBR

7 notes · View notes

silverdriftdragon · 5 years

Text

Break the Silence

Hell dear Anon! First off, thanks so much for the request! I rather enjoyed writing it, even if I struggled with the end a bit. Funny that you should request these two with “Mouth stitched shut” though because the moment I got the card and saw that one, I had pretty much already given it to them.

Also, I apologize for any grammar of spelling issues. English is my first language, I just suck at it.

Possible TW for minor body horror. Thanks to @badthingshappenbingo for the card~ Requests still open for FE3H~ Anyway, hope you enjoy!

---------

Hubert had thought nothing of it when he didn’t see the Prime Minister during the day. After all, even post war there was much to be done. It wasn’t uncommon in the slightest for them to depart company after the morning meetings with a kiss (still much to the embarrassment of Hubert and the amusement of Emperor Edelgard) and then see nothing of each other until the evening when they dropped all Imperial matters to join each other for dinner and their beverage of choice. However, when evening fell and Ferdinand didn’t show… he knew something was amiss. At first, Hubert wondered if he was just late, busy fussing with his hair or trapped in a matter he couldn’t escape… but more and more time ticked on and still no sign of Ferdinand. Something was off.

Slowly, Hubert rose from his chair and headed to the places where his significant other frequently got held up. Nothing. Next, he took a stroll to the shop where Ferdinand bought his tea. The shopkeeper greeted him cheerfully, asking him if he was here shopping for Duke Aegir today. Hubert's face knitted itself into a look of disappointment but went ahead and purchased the tea regardless as their personal stock was becoming low. He left there and went to the coffee shop next door. No Ferdinand there either, but there was an order called in that morning that Ferdinand never showed up to get.

He tried his best to keep his wandering mind in check as he practically power walked back to the palace. Surely Edelgard had seen him and this was nothing more than a business meeting that took far to long. The war was over after all and while Hubert understood better than most that threats still lingered, he couldn’t possibly think of anyone stupid enough to go after Ferdinand. The man could hold his own, sure, but most wouldn’t dare even look his direction maliciously for fear of Hubert's scorn.

As he approached the doors to the throne room, he was nearly run over by Caspar who was on his way out in quite a hurry. Hubert stopped the normally over eager general, expecting to have to scold him about paying attention, but the look on his face suggested that there was more that needed to be asked. “Caspar. And where might you be off to in such a hurry? Late for dinner with Ashe again I take it?”

“Uuuuuh hey Hubert. I was uh… just off on a mission. No big deal. Really got to go though so if you could just…. HEY!” Caspar answered nervously, yelping when Hubert when to drag him back into the throne room. “You really don’t want me wasting time on this! I need to go now!”

The large commotion Caspar was causing (to no one's surprise of course) attracted the attention of everyone in the room… and the way they all looked away from Hubert was troublesome. The mage threw Caspar down in front of him and peered up at Edelgard. “Your Majesty.” He addressed her calmly with a polite bow.

“Hubert…” She answered, worry clear on her face. “Caspar, please go. I’ll handle this.” She remained quiet at first, watching her general scramble away. Once he disappeared, she straightened her posture and tried her best to sound convincingly collected. “What can I do for you, Count Vestra?”

“Your Majesty,” He started, his gaze never leaving her face even though she would not look at him. He was bothered by her addressing him so formally, something she never did unless she was scolding him or under a great deal of stress… and her expression pointed to the latter. “may I ask what is going on? No one in this room, yourself included, will look me in the eyes and General Bergliez seems to be in quite a rush… dare I assume this has to do with Ferdinand since I’ve been unable to locate him?” He had remained fairly calm up to this point, but when Edelgard still couldn’t meet his gaze, his body tensed.

“As astute as ever, Hubert… Yes. This morning I sent Ferdinand out on a diplomatic errand… we received word not too long ago that the party was ambushed and None of his men survived. The aftermath was discovered by one of Caspar’s men patrolling the area… but he did not find him among the dead, so we can only hope he is alive and being held hostage.”

“And when were you planning on informing me of this?” Now his tone had a venomous quality to it, which he would likely be scolded for later given who he was talking to. Magic began to crackle at his fingertips, causing him to clench his fist and jaw to keep himself in check. Now was not the time to lash out.

“Truthfully I had no plans of telling you. Not until we had recovered him… or at the very least recovered a body.” Only now did she meet his gaze, holding her ground against his well-deserved anger. “I should have known that keeping anything from you was impossible, especially something regarding Ferdinand. But I couldn’t risk you rushing off and something happening to you both.”

“Then you’ll have to forgive me upon my return, Your Majesty, as I will be doing exactly that.” Without waiting on her response, he turned away and headed back toward the door.

“Count Vestra, you will do no such thing.” She commanded, hoping that his staunch loyalty would give him pause. When he kept walking, she hurried off after him. “Hubert, please. I’ve already sent Caspar and his elite guard out to search for him.”

“And I will be joining them.”

“I cannot allow that. If something were to happen to you as well-“

“Forgive my blatant disobedience, Emperor Edelgard…” He paused only long enough to glance over his shoulder at her. The desperate yet determined look in his eyes causing her to pause, a soft gasp sneaking past her lips. “but if roles were reversed and this was Lady Byleth in danger, you would do the same.” With that, he set off again to join the search.

Edelgard was unable to argue that. It was true, orders be damned, if Byleth had been taken, she would be the first out the door. So, she just watched him walk away for a moment before she turned back to the throne room. “Safe travels, Hubert…”

To say Caspar had been uneasy to have Hubert joining them was a monumental understatement, and the ride to the sight of the attack with that tense, uncomfortable silence didn’t help. What if the guy had been wrong and they did find Ferdinand dead among his guard? Or even if he wasn’t, what if they tracked him down and they were too late to save him? Caspar was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to handle any reaction that Hubert had. His mind played though scenario after scenario, trying to steel himself for whatever might happen. It helped on the battlefield, so it couldn’t hurt now. He only snapped back to reality once he realized they had arrived.

“Damn… This really was a massacre…” He muttered to himself as he climbed down from his horse and started picking through the scene for clues. His eyes kept wandering up to Hubert, who had dismounted and immediately started to check the bodies. However, he quickly became confused when Hubert soon returned to his horse. “Uuuuh Hubert? Where ya goin?”

“I confirmed that he is, in fact, not among the dead. If he is not here, he is elsewhere, and I intend to find him.”

“Yeah… I got that. We haven’t exactly figured out where to go though.”

Hubert gave a rather irritated sigh. “Look closely. All their valuables are intact, meaning that this was not the work of bandits. That, with the fact that Ferdinand was not slaughtered and left here with his men indicates that whoever did this was only after Ferdinand and needed him alive. My guess is either for information on myself or Her Majesty. That said, as flippant as he can be, getting the jump on Ferdinand would not have been an easy task. The only way they would have been able to accomplish something like this without losing many of their own would have been to come from behind. Silent and on foot. Lastly, from personal experience, one does not want to haul a political hostage on foot very far, too much opportunity to get caught… Which narrows down our search area drastically.” After he finished his explanation and still received a blank stare from Caspar, he rolled his eyes. “They are likely holed up in the mountains, beyond the pass.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say that?” Caspar stood up quickly and jogged back to his horse, calling his men to do the same. Once on their way, that tense silence befell them again. It made Caspar so beyond uncomfortable that he absolutely needed to start talking to get rid of it. “So… uh…” He hadn’t considered what to talk about before he opened his mouth. Now, though, Hubert was looking at him expectantly and that stare only made matters worse, so he just blurted out the first thing on his mind. “What happens if we don’t get to him in time?” Immediately, he regretted asking. Hubert looked away from him almost instantly, a mix of anguish and fury on his face.

“I’ll make each and every one of them that even considered laying a hand on him suffer as he did, threefold. And then… they will die.”

Caspar quickly decided that the silence wasn’t so bad after that.

The group came to a halt when Hubert suddenly stopped and dismounted near a cave neatly tucked away among the cliffs. It was inconspicuous, easy to miss unless you had an attention to detail like he did. It was the perfect spot to hid away with a political prisoner if you did want to get caught… or to set up a trap for the rescue party. Only one way in with high rocky walls leading to the entrance. It left no hope of escape should someone come in behind them. Normally, he would wait, formulate a fool proof plan, make sure they would lose as little as possible… but one more detail caught his attention. Blood on the wall near the mouth of the cave with a few strands of long amber-orange hair stuck to it. A quiet growl escaped him as he started to head inside. “Caspar. Remain here and watch for a potential ambush. I sense this may be a trap.”

“Whoa Whoa wait a minute, I thought I was the impulsive one here!” Caspar hopped down from his horse, barking an order to his men to stand guard. “If this is a trap, is it a good idea for you to go running in by yourself? No way! I’m going too.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You cannot leave your men here with no command… General.” His lips turned up into a small smirk when the hotheaded warrior growled but didn’t argue. “If I do not return soon, you may come for me then.” As he had made a habit of doing today, he departed without waiting for an answer.

“How soon is… aaaand he’s gone.” Caspar heaved a sigh and kicked at a rock. “He better come back. I’m gonna be taking the heat if he doesn’t…”

For a hideout, it was rather dimly lit, many of the passages barely visible to someone not used to such conditions. Luckily, Hubert was trained for this. When your primary job was to guard the heir to the throne and eventually the Emperor, you had to be able to do so in any situation. However, it only further proved his assumption of this being a trap. One likely set with the express intention of drawing him out. Taking the Prime Minister would surely warrant an elite rescue. Whoever these people were, they were smart enough to know that Edelgard would send him at the head of the group, thus giving them the chance to kill him and then kill their hostage. This in mind, he moved carefully, his footsteps making nary a sound.

He soon happened upon a light at the end of the main passageway. The fact that this area was more lit up than the rest practically screamed ‘hey I’m a trap!’ but it was most likely where Ferdinand was being held. The one place where he couldn’t hide among the shadows. He straightened his posture and walked in with a confident stride. That determined gait quickly deteriorated into a hurried, undignified scramble once he laid eyes on the limp figure tied to a chair in the center of the room. At first, he feared he was too late, but as he knelt in front of Ferdinand, relief flooded over him. The slow but arrhythmic movement of his chest indicated that not only was he alive, but likely conscious. Slowly, the count removed one of his gloves, reaching past that mess of fiery orange hair to lift his head up, hoping that feeling that skin on skin contact might calm the surely frightened man. He was met first with a weary look of surprise, a muffled gasp and whimper of pain following shortly after, prompting Hubert to start checking him over for injuries. There was a gash and dried blood just off his brow ridge where his head had been slammed into the wall outside, his nose and part of his cheek were bruised up and a bit bloodied, but none those concerned him more than the hand shaped bruising around his neck and the way his mouth had been crudely stitched shut with fishing line. He didn’t bother checking any further, he had seen enough to know what needed to be done. That’s when he heard the footsteps closing in, almost as if this was meant to be.

“Look, boys. We caught a rat in our trap.” A female voice cooed from behind him. “There is quite a bounty on your head, traitor.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” Hubert started calmly, rising to feet and slipping his glove back on as he turned to face the group that he blocked him in. He recognized them of course, people that had served his father. Loyalists. People who would want him dead to avenge the assassination he himself had carried out. “I assume this was all your doing then? Kidnap the Prime Minister, ransom his life for mine? Or simply wait until Emperor Edelgard sent me to his rescue? Clever, I’ll admit.”

“Tch, you think you are real smart, don’t you? What our plan was doesn’t matter. We got you here, alone. You are out numbered and out classed. Give up and I’ll make it quick.”

“And you’ll certainly release Duke Aegir right after, I’m sure.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s a shame really… I wanted to commend you. Normally, there would be no way out of this. However, you made one grave miscalculation.”

“What the hell are you on about?” The leader growled, raising her weapon.

His face grew dark, the smile only making his stare more unsettling. Black magic swirled to life around them as he raised his hand, pausing only long enough to speak. “You underestimated my feelings for Duke Aegir...” A sense of satisfaction course through him as their faces all turned to terror, him implication realized. “Now, your life if forfeit for the pain you caused him. Even if it destroys me in the process.” Some tried to rush him, the rest tried to flee as the powerful magic surged forward, leaving little that was recognizable as human in its wake. One managed to escape, but now burdened with the cost of using such magic, Hubert collapsed as he went to give chase. Ferdinand started to panic, trying his best to say something, anything, but only causing himself pain in the process. “Ferdinand, hush!” The order came out much harsher than he meant it, but it served its purpose. Slowly, he forced himself to his hands and knees and drug himself over to the chair, sitting against it and looking up at Ferdinand. “I’m alright. Please do not worsen your condition with needless panic… Give me a moment to regain my bearings and I shall-”

“Huuuuubert!” A rather loud voice called, interrupting Hubert's thought. The sounds of Caspar's heavy footsteps echoed through the cave almost as much as his voice did.

The count gave the most annoyed (and slightly relieved) sigh and shook his head. “It is good that I’m not in any real danger…” The gentle annoyance in his tone earned him a soft, but very welcomed snicker from the man next to him as Caspar came stomping around the corner.

“There you are! And you found Ferdinand! But uh… why are you just-“ there was a sickening squish that made the general stop dead in his tracks. “Oh… oh gross. I stepped in… I stepped in one of the poor bastards that took Ferdinand, didn’t I?”

“Indeed you have. And while you are more than welcome to be disgusted by it later, I need you to cut him free and *gently* hand him here so that I may undo this… atrocity.”

“Atrocity? What are you- oh shit! What the hell… is that… is that fishing line?! What kind of fucked up-“

“Caspar.”

“Right! Sorry.” He moved quickly to do what he had been asked. “Wait wouldn’t it be quicker to let me unstitch him? Since I’m right here?”

Hubert pulled a small pair of scissors out of the inside of his coat and cast a sharp glare to Caspar. “I do not trust you and your brutish strength to do this with the gentle precision it requires.”

“Sheesh. No need to be rude. Just say you’d rather do it. And I’m not even going to ask why you carry scissors.” Caspar huffed as he finally freed Ferdinand and helped him down into Hubert’s waiting arms. Ferdinand practically clung to Hubert, his slender frame trembling as a flood of emotions hit him at once. Caspar hovered awkwardly for several moments before he started walking away. “I’m gonna goooo… check for stragglers. Yell if you need me.”

Hubert waited until Caspar disappeared before he pulled Ferdinand away gently, removing his glove once more before running his thumb over his cheek. His features softened, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Hush now… it’s over. You are safe.” He assured, wiping tears from Ferdinand’s face. “Now, however, I need you to remain still so I don’t cause you any more harm.” He waited until Ferdinand nodded before picking up the scissors and setting to work. Each strand he snipped and removed caused Ferdinand to tense, but miraculously he remained surprising still. Once he pulled the last strand away, Hubert moved his hand to cover Ferdinand’s mouth, hoping his meager white magic skill would at least tame the swelling and ease the pain. There was a small flash of light, his hand falling weakly back to his side soon after. There was silence between them at first, but eventually Ferdinand broke the silence.

“Are you alright, Hubert?” He asked softly, wincing some at the lingering pain. “You should not exhaust yourself so on my account… If something were to happen to you, I…” He trailed off, mildly confused when his partner gave a weak laugh.

“After such an ordeal and you are worried over me? Typical.”

“Hubert… do not tease. I was being serious.”

“I’ll be fine, rest will be sufficient for what ails me.” He answered. “After all, I certainly did not disregard a direct order to stay in the capital to end up dying here. Her Majesty would have been beside herself.”

“You did not…” When Hubert just smirked at him, Ferdinand made a rather undignified noise. “Hubert!”

“If anything had happened to you, I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself. Is that not what you just tried to tell me?” There was a sincerity to his voice that caused his partner to gasp and blush, confirming what he had said to be true. “I thought so.” He gave a small hum and placed a soft kiss on Ferdinand’s forehead, before leaning back with a content sigh, fully intending to stay right there until Caspar came back on his own. Once they returned, there would be reports to file and other official business regarding this incident… so for now, he wished to simply enjoy this time that they had while also regaining some of his strength. Ferdinand, for once, didn’t argue and just laid his head on Hubert’s shoulder.

When Caspar did finally come back, he found the both in that exact same position, sound asleep.

#fire emblem: three houses #fe3h #ferdinand von aegir #hubert von vestra #ferdibert #vestraegir #ferdinand #hubert #minor body horror #mouth stitched shut #yay silver wrote something #silver writes

82 notes · View notes

diaryofomellas · 4 years

Text

[Fanfiction] An Arrow in Her Quiver - Chapter Two

Summary:

I almost died fighting the Burning Legion. By the end of that cruel war to save Azeroth, the Horde had a new Warchief. I was well on my way to be accepted into her inner circle, and I was not going to break her trust. We do what we must. I pledged my life to Sylvanas Windrunner. I am just an arrow in her quiver.

Read in Ao3

The blazing desert sun scorched the bustling streets of Orgrimmar. The great tan banners that hung high over the city provided some shelter and shade. Yet, I doubted I would ever get used to the dry, hot weather of Durotar.

Many were still mourning the loss of their loved ones to the Burning Legion, but life was starting to return to normal. The street vendors haggled with their customers. Children running after each other provided the much-needed sound of laughter. Most of all, everyone was preparing to watch the Warchief's victory march through the city later that day.

Grommash Hold towered over the Valley of Strength with its big Horde banner hanging above the spiky doorway. I smoothed my brown leather vest with my hands and squared my shoulders before entering. I was eager to see her again, but being summoned by the Warchief was always a big deal. My anxious little heart raced in my chest.

She stood by the warchief throne, tall and mighty, talking in a low voice with an orc warrior. She dismissed him as I approached her.

"My Queen." I knelt in front of her and lowered my gaze to the ground.

"Ah, Omellas. I have been expecting you." Sylvanas turned towards me. "Please, follow me. Let us talk in the back room."

The small chamber behind the throne room meant to give the warchief some comfort and privacy. I followed her in and clasped my hands behind my back, waiting for her to talk first. She wore her distinctive burgundy armour but was unarmed. On a table to the left, there was a map of Azeroth and a few scattered handwritten papers. On top of those, sat her bony bow and her quiver.

"Omellas Bloodforged." she started, emphasizing my surname. "I like the name you have chosen. It fits you."

"Thank you, my Queen."

For a moment, there was a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Omellas Silverspirit was my birth name, the surname given to me by my father. That is how Sylvanas had known me before.

When I was lying on the cold stone floor of that cliff on the Broken Shore, I was sure that's where I would die. I remembered Sylvanas standing next to me, fighting off fel demons like she was possessed until someone took me away to a healer. That memory was so hazy that I never knew if it was real or a mere fever dream. I did not dare to ask.

I had woken up three days later, barely able to breathe with my entire torso bandaged. The recovery process was long and painful; it felt as if I had been reborn and was learning how to live again. It felt like I had a new life, forged from the blood I had spilt against my enemies.

"I trust you are fully recovered from your wound?"

No, I thought. Her question came as a surprise. After all, Sylvanas Windrunner didn't show concern for the well-being of others very often. Yet, I did not want her to perceive me as weak. I did not want her to know that sometimes the pain beneath my right shoulder blade almost brought me to tears. I could never admit that to her. Healers had told me it was something I would have to live with, that it would probably never go away. I had to push through the pain during my training because I could not be seen as someone weak. I am not weak.

"Yes, my Queen," I replied instead. "I heard you called a healer for me. You saved my life. I am thankful for your concern, my Queen."

For a moment, she was silent, looking through me towards a troubled past. Then she collected herself again, and her gaze fell on me. "You have also saved my life that day. You have shown great loyalty towards me."

As a member and soldier of the Horde, I was only doing my job. I did not expect to receive any kind of gratitude afterwards. And it wasn't like Sylvanas to show appreciation so explicitly. Somehow, it made me uncomfortable, worried where this conversation might go from here. "Now that I am Warchief," she continued, watching me closely, "I will need your help more than ever. We have peace, but I sense there are dark times ahead of us."

There it was. The way she uttered that last sentence sounded more like a certainty than a feeling. I knew her well enough to realize she already had plenty of plans running wild through her mind. I could almost see the cogs in her brain turning, sizing me up, wondering if I'd be up to the tasks she had in store for me. I am not weak. "I am an arrow in your quiver, my Queen." I bowed my head and lowered my eyes for a moment. Still mulling over her words, my heart felt heavier with the weight of that ominous prophecy.

With her finger on my chin, she lifted my head to make me raise my gaze. The embroidered hood cast a slight shadow over her face. I could not help but notice how beautiful and dark she was, like a brewing storm. Her expression was amiable, but her eyes pierced through me like a blade. "I trust you."

Any master strategist like Sylvanas Windrunner knows that the first rule of winning at life is not to give out their trust lightly. Asserting her confidence in me sounded more like a warning than an achievement. One does not simply break Sylvanas Windrunner's trust and live to tell the tale. "I shall not disappoint you," I replied, hoping she would understand the promise in my eyes.

I meant it, and she knew it. Her hand moved to my shoulder when she adopted a more relaxed posture. "Will you ride with me today, Omellas?"

My mouth opened up on its own to show the full extent of my surprise. "That would be an honour, my Queen!"

She paused, noticing familiar footsteps approaching. She stepped back as the tanned hide was drawn aside to let Nathanos Blightcaller enter. Then she nodded at me, and I knew that meant I was dismissed. Whatever Nathanos had to say, was not intended for my ears.

"You are late." She told him, as I stepped out into the throne room.

I found Romma waiting for me outside Grommash Hold, eyes wide with anticipation. "So? What did she want?"

I rubbed my neck for a second, my irregular heartbeat drumming on the skin under my fingertips. "Girl, you are not going to believe this."

I told her all about my conversation with Sylvanas while we walked towards the stable. When we arrived, I signalled Kazosh with my head, who quickly fetched my horse for me.

I kissed Wildgaze's forehead and took the reins from Kazosh. "Omellas, I think you're on your way to being accepted into the inner circle!" Romma said, stroking Wildgaze's black mane. "You're a big deal now!"

"Oh, please, I've always been a big deal!" I flicked my hair in fake affectation. My eyes met hers, and we just laughed together.

After the devastating war, laughing felt almost wrong, as if we were mocking those who died so that we could live. At the same time, it was satisfying and freeing. There were tough moments in the last few months when hope for victory was almost lost. But victory had been ours, in the end. Now the focus was on rebuilding our lives and ourselves.

"Hey, Romma, why don't you bring Zona and join me in the march?" Kazosh glanced at me, his eyebrow raising as if he was questioning my judgement. I pretended not to notice.

"I'm not sure Lady Sylvanas would be too pleased with that. She did not invite me." She stuck her tongue out, and I pulled a funny face at her.

"I'll ask her. Everyone else will also join eventually, does it truly matter if you're at the front or the rear?" I knew it mattered, but I didn't want to ride alone. I would feel too self-conscious without someone to talk to while we paraded ourselves through the streets of Orgrimmar.

"Fine, I'll get her. Meet you at the gates in five." She turned around and walked away, her blue dress waving around her ankles.

Chains dangled from the high ceiling framing the tall Horde banners hanging on the walls. At the Gates of Orgrimmar, groups of blood elves and Forsaken waited for the Warchief to arrive. Everyone was wearing their best clothes. A Forsaken girl in a pretty green dress approached, holding the reins of two skeletal horses. My heart gave a slight jolt of excitement, knowing those were for Sylvanas and Nathanos.

"It's stupid how anxious I am," I whispered to Romma. In the past, I had fought swarms of mindless undead, fel demons, and more scary beasts and monsters than I could count. But I was nervous about riding behind my Warchief through a crowd of joyous supporters.

"Can't judge you, she's a bit... scary." Romma scratched her wolf's chin, who was almost purring with satisfaction.

"That's not why I'm anxious." I countered, crossing my arms on my chest. "And she's not scary!". I hesitated. "She's just... You know. Intense."

A sly smile appeared on Romma's lips. "Sounds like someone has a crush..." she said in a sing-songy tone with a mischievous look.

I glanced behind me to make sure no one was standing within earshot. "Woman, you are out of your mind," I told her. She just smiled without saying another word.

Suddenly, I noticed a wave of murmurs drifting through the crowd. Sylvanas and Nathanos were approaching, walking up the path from Grommash Hold. Adopting a confident posture, I waited by her horse with a modest smile.

"I am glad to see you here, Omellas." She glanced behind me at Wildgaze. Noticing the flag fastened to his saddle, she smirked. "Is that your horse?"

"Yes, my Queen. His name is Wildgaze."

She walked up to him, looking interested. "Strong body, agile legs. Doesn't seem to be skittish. Beautiful shiny coat," she slid her hand through his black forehead and muzzle. "It's a great specimen."

I took a few sugar cubes from a small pouch strapped to my belt. She picked them up from my hand and offered them to Wildgaze, who gulped everything down happily. "I like the flag on his saddle."

I smiled, a sudden warmth spreading through my chest. "I borrowed it from Kazosh, at the stable. Thought you might enjoy the display of Horde spirit."

"My Queen?" Nathanos' voice sent a cold shiver down my spine. I had not heard him approach us, and having him so close to me so suddenly was startling. "We should begin." Sylvanas nodded and walked to her horse.

"Warchief, if I may...?" Sylvanas did not show any displeasure as she looked back at me. I felt encouraged to proceed, pointing towards Romma. "Would it be okay if my friend here accompanied me during the march? I would prefer not to do it alone..." I let my voice trail off, hoping she would notice my discomfort without me having to state it.

"What is your name?" Sylvanas asked, scanning Romma from head to toe.

"I'm Romma Gravewind, Warchief," she replied with a curtsy.

Sylvanas inclined her head slightly to one side. "I have heard great things about you, Romma Gravewind."

She bowed again. "Thank you, Warchief." Romma was dealing with Sylvanas' compliments with a lot more grace than I had.

Sylvanas' powerful gaze fell on me again, pausing to consider her answer. "I will allow it. You can both ride behind me with my guard."

It was my turn to bow, and I couldn't hide a smile. "Thank you, my Queen."

I noticed a slight frown appearing on Nathanos' face when I addressed Sylvanas as Queen. It was not the first time I saw him disapprove of that, but I ignored it. She was more than just my Warchief. I considered her my Queen, even if I was not a Forsaken, and I would continue to address her as such.

I turned to Romma with a grin and gave her a thumbs up. She grinned back at me before mounting her grey wolf.

At the head of the march, Sylvanas mounted her skeletal horse with grace and ease. I knew how much she loathed this kind of demonstration, but she was hiding her annoyance well. She gave Lor'themar Theron and her Forsaken a nod before nudging her horse forward. I took a deep breath and did the same.

#sylvanas windrunner #omellas bloodforged #wow #world of warcraft #wow fanfic #wow fanfiction #world of warcraft fantiction #warcraft #Warcraft fanfic #horde #sylvanas loyalist

2 notes · View notes

inmyownlittlecorner5 · 4 years

Text

Moonlight Chapter 22: Sânziene

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 22/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter 21+

Chapter 23+ >>

“You’re sure you didn’t bring anything besides the bag and the harvesting knife? No wand? No guns? No potions?” Charlie asked again.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Miranda answered patiently. “But I did bring a rope. Doamnă Lupul gave me permission for that.”

They were standing in the foothills of Moldoveanu Peak, studying its tree-spiked slopes and waiting for the first rays of dawn to come creeping over the horizon. Miranda had returned just in time for Sânziene, or St. John’s Day, as she knew it, and the second task. Although she’d spoken of it flippantly to Severus, the sight of the mountain towering above her made her shift from foot to foot in a buzz of nervous excitement. As she gazed up at the the mountain in all its mist-crowned glory, it was clear that the time for practicing was past. If she fell today, she wouldn’t have Charlie nearby to put her back together again.

“You ate, right?” Charlie was sounding more and more like a nervous hen.

“Yes, I did. And I brought one loaf of sweet bread and a wedge of fresh cheese, just as I’m allowed. Do you think there will be any water up there, though?” Miranda asked.

“I honestly don’t know. But if there is, make sure you ask the fairy folk before you go grabbing any of it. I don’t want you thrown off the mountain before you get a chance to gather anything.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“And you’ve got the list memorized?”

“Loosestrife, Shooting Star, Alpine Avens, Alpine Bistort, Alpine Sainfoin, Lady's Bedstraw, do you need me to keep going?”

“No, that’s fine. I know you’re ready. But stay calm on the way up. Balour likes you now, but if you act nervous he’ll get frustrated and toss you.”

She gave her coach a pat on the shoulder. “You’re not really helping me relax, Charlie.”

He finally cracked a smile at that. “I’m just trying to be nervous enough for the both of us.”

“Sounds like a plan. You worry, and I’ll stay calm.”

As the sky turned pink, the pair of them were shrouded by Balour’s shadow as he swooped overhead. He circled them thrice and landed more lightly than a creature of his size should have been able to manage. Charlie gave Miranda an encouraging slug in the arm and backed away slowly. He had done everything in his power to prepare her; she would have to do the rest on her own.

When Charlie had withdrawn, Miranda turned to face Balour with a stance both respectful and relaxed. She went down on her knees and touched her head to the ground before the mighty beast, and she could see approval in his massive golden eyes when she came back to her feet. With a firm step, she approached, giving him a good hard scratch just behind his scaly ears. When he was snorting smoke with pleasure, she gave him a final pat, and bounded up onto his back in two jumps, the way he liked. He gave her just enough time to hook her hands and feet into the chinks between his purple scales before tensing his fearsome muscles and launching them both into the sky.

The morning air brought tears to her eyes as they sped up into the atmosphere. Before Miranda’s stomach had time to settle, they were above the tree line, leaving Charlie a tiny speck below them. Miranda kept her eyes on the horizon and her attention on moving with her mount. As long as she stayed in sync with the undulating rhythm of his flight, all would be well. He knew exactly where they were going and how to get there. All she had to do was stay out of his way and go along for the ride.

The moment she relaxed, she felt a ripple of what could only be reptilian laughter go through her companion, and he teased her with a barrel roll mid-flight. She let out a breathless laugh at the danger and the joy of it. Balour must be in a good mood today to make with such tricks. He indulged in a few more loop the loops, buzzing around the base of the mountain. Miranda had to mind her breath to keep herself steady as they flew. To her, a mere mortal, it seemed they were coming at the wall of rock far too quickly; but she did not want Balour to know that. Dragons were jealous beings, hoarding respect and trust as surely as they hoarded food and jewels. It would not do to have him think that she was lacking in trust for him today.

She needn’t have worried, for a hair’s breadth from impact, Balour shifted direction to bring them shooting up the sheer rock face in front of them. The wind was so loud on the ascent that all she could hear was its roaring, and the morning sun broke forth behind them, warming her back as they flew. While Balour expertly dodged the pines clinging to the mountainside, Miranda registered that a dark green streak was keeping pace with them on their flight, smaller than Balour, but quickly outstripping them. She didn’t have to look twice to know that Doamnă Dragnea was aboard, and she could not help but admire the other woman’s skill. Doamnă Dragnea appeared to have been born on the back of a dragon. Miranda might have learned enough to get by in the few months granted her for study, but Catalina and her beast moved with the type of synergy that only years of experience could bring.

The mountainside that they were chasing upwards abruptly dropped away, and Balour snorted in anger as he was obliged to circle the summit to allow his speedier rival pride of place. Catalina slipped gracefully off her dragon’s back, giving the creature a pat and sending him on his way. Balour growled and, as though the entire incident were Miranda’s fault, he landed barely long enough to buck her off his back before flying off, leaving a trail of black smoke behind him.

Miranda had not been prepared for this unceremonious leave-taking. She rolled over the ground, gaining speed as she crashed into Catalina and sent the two of them hurtling over the edge of the cliff. They bounced along the rocks, unfortunately tangled together, until they came to a halt on a narrow outcropping of stone; where they lay winded and motionless, dangling high above the forest floor.

*****

“{Doamnă Dragnea, are you awake?” Miranda asked, perhaps half an hour later. The younger woman was sprawled out on top of her, and the ledge that held them so precariously was far too small for its task.

“{Yes,}” Catalina whispered.

“{Did you break anything?}”

“{I don’t think so.}”

Miranda raised her head and shoulders off the rock in order to get a better look at Catalina. As she did so, she became acutely aware of the ledge shifting under them. By the way that Catalina’s lower lip was trembling, Miranda suspected that the younger woman had also noticed their plight.

“{What do we do?}” Catalina asked in a small voice, so unlike her usual, confident tone.

“{Well,}” Miranda blew out a breath, trying to harness her racing mind. “{I have a rope. We can use it to climb back up to the top.}”

“{No!}” Catalina’s answer was vehement enough that it shook a few more stones from their perch.

Miranda’s voice became very smooth, the sort of timbre she used to soothe frightened horses. “{I’m afraid that’s what we have to do.}”

“{I can’t.}”

“{The dragons won’t be back until tomorrow morning and I expect that at least one of us will have to go to the bathroom before then. Besides, you just rode a dragon up here. If you can do that, you can do this.}”

Catalina’s lips twitched in spite of her terror. “{Dragon riding is easy. This is different.}”

“{I know it’s different,}” Miranda went on, taking the risk of moving enough to stroke Catalina’s cheek. “{But we’re going to do it, and we’re going to do it together. I’ll be with you the whole time. I promise.}”

Catalina swallowed hard, but acquiesced to the inevitable. “{I guess we have to try. Just…just tell me what to do.}”

“{I can do that. We’re going to take this nice and slow. In a minute, you’re going to scoot yourself off of me and as close to the mountain as you can get. And before you start, I want you to think of a poem or a prayer or a story or something. Make it a long one.}”

“{Why?}” It was almost funny how suspicious Catalina sounded. She must be getting her spirit back.

“{Because you’re going to recite it on the way up so you don’t have time to think about what you’re doing.}”

“{That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard!}”

“{Maybe, but it’s what you’re going to do. Are you ready?}” Catalina glared at Miranda, but nodded once. Miranda paused for the space of a breath and ordered, “{Scoot!}”

If she had been able to stand, Catalina would have reached the face of the mountain in less than a dozen steps. As it was, it took her more than a quarter of an hour to reach it. Fear restrained her movements to a snail’s pace, but that was just as well. Any time that Catalina made a larger motion, Miranda felt more of the ledge crumble away. When Catalina finally reached her goal, she leapt up to grip the rock until her knuckles turned white with the effort.

“{Good work,}” Miranda soothed. “{I’m coming after you. When I get to you, I’m going to tie my rope around both of us. I’ll have to work slowly, so why don’t you start reciting. It’ll help pass the time.}”

Catalina glanced over her shoulder, and Miranda thought the younger woman was going to vomit when she saw how small the ledge was. Snapping her head back to the rock face, Catalina muttered, “{I can’t believe I’m doing this.}”

“{Recite,}” Miranda ordered.

“{Fine,}” Catalina snapped back. She inhaled deliberately and began, through gritted teeth,

“{Where a mountain valley lies Beautiful as Paradise To a pasture green and deep Came three shepherds with their sheep.}”

By the end of the verse, Catalina’s voice was angry, hopping from dark vowel to dark vowel in an irritated sing-song. Moving inch by painstaking inch, Miranda started to ease her rope from its place around her waist. Every time she shifted, she could hear bits of rock sliding into oblivion, and she hoped that the ominous sound was not reaching Catalina’s ears. She had no idea how long it took her to get the full length of the freezing rope in her hands, and she tried not to think about how much of the ledge was still underneath her. Closing her eyes, she gathered her magic into her hands and pulled a section of the rope away. She set the longer length on her belly and quickly tied the shorter part into a harness, and then she looped one end of the longer rope into a lasso. These tasks took long enough that she had to discipline herself to listen to Catalina’s ballad rather than let her thoughts spiral into the abyss.

With the harness and the rope firmly in hand, Miranda eased herself into a sitting position, only to feel the ground shift beneath her. Catalina stopped reciting immediately, and her eyes turned back to Miranda, wide and full of fear.

“{Keep on, you’re doing fine,}” Miranda reassured her.

Catalina’s voice came out in a squeak as she continued,

“{Whitest little lamb of mine Tell to me that pain of thine For three days, so mournfully Crying, thou hast followed me}”

While Catalina tortured the verses, Miranda inched her way over and wrapped the harness around the smaller woman’s thin body. She deftly attached the harness to the climbing rope, and tied the free end of the rope around her own waist. When all was secure, she gazed up at the summit above them, looking for a likely tree branch. There weren’t many options and, before she could think over much about the decision, she took aim and hurled the lassoed end of the rope into the air. A sickening amount of ledge slid away while Miranda was willing the rope to catch its mark. It caught, she pulled it tight, and heaved a sigh of relief when she was at last able to roll to her feet and crowd Catalina against the rock face. Catalina’s breath washed over Miranda’s cheek in hot puffs, but the Romanian bravely kept reciting,

“{Shepherd, O my shepherd dear!}”

”{Alright,}” Miranda said, calmly interrupting the recitation. “{the next thing you have to do is take hold of the rope. Then you’re going to put your feet on the rock and start walking up the mountain. Use your hands and your magic to pull you along and keep your eyes on what’s in front of you.}” Catalina glared at Miranda, who quickly suggested, “{Pretend it’s the ground. I’ll be right here, holding the rope steady for you and I’ll climb up when you get to the top. And, whatever else you do, keep reciting.}”

Catalina nodded shortly and did as she was told, gripping the rope with white hands and laboriously dragging herself upwards. Her recitation continued, punctuated by gasps for air as she ascended.

“{If Fate wills I die today In this meadow, thou must say Bold to him of Hungary Boldly to the mountaineer That they lay my body here.}”

“Cheerful selection,” Miranda muttered at her post below. For someone who had presumably never climbed a mountain before, Catalina did well, tenaciously moving, hand over hand, foot over foot, not once looking up nor down. Miranda held the rope as still as she could and let herself follow the words of the ballad now, doing her best to ignore the shifting rock under her feet.

“{Say I wed a royal bride Wooed of all the world beside. Say that when our faith was given A bright star fell out of Heaven. Sun and moon stood holding there A Marriage-wreath above my hair Mountains tall were priests to me Guests were pine and alder-tree Torches were the flaming stars Thousand birds my lute-players.}”

Catalina’s voice transmuted the final word into a whoop of joy as she gained the top. For a moment, she disappeared from Miranda’s sight completely, collapsing on the solid ground. When she lifted her head to peer over the edge and call down to Miranda, her voice was shaking with relief.

“{What do I do now?}” she cried.

“{Unhook yourself and get away from the edge so you don’t fall again. I’ll be right up after you,}” Miranda called back.

“{Me fall? You’re the one who fell!}” Catalina protested as she disconnected her harness from the rope and disappeared again.

Miranda felt the new slack in the rope, and she put her foot up to kick off the ledge. Before she could get clear of her treacherous perch, the rock gave way completely. The rope slipped from Miranda’s hands, and she plummeted down, letting out an involuntary shriek.

“{Miranda!}” Catalina shouted.

“{I’m fine!}” Miranda yelled back.

And oh, she was fine. She was phenomenal! The rope around her waist had prevented her from being impaled on the the trees below, and she was suspended in mid-air, arms and legs outspread, the closest to unaided flight that she’d ever been. Brooms and dragons had their good points but this—this was like nothing she’d ever experienced. She laughed gaily as she caught hold of the rope again and swung herself back towards the mountainside. It had never been easier to gather her magic together, and as her feet hit the rock, she bounded upwards like a hind. In no time at all she had reached the top, still laughing, and wondering what she would have to do to convince Severus to let her try that flying potion.

“{You are insane!}” Catalina said as Miranda dropped down beside her.

“{You’re not the first person to tell me that,}” Miranda observed, impulsively throwing her arms around her companion. “{I knew you could do it! Well done, Catalina. I mean, Doamnă Dragnea,}” she corrected, quickly letting the other woman go.

Catalina gave her a hard look before breaking into a grin. “{Enough of that. After what just happened it’s Catalina and Miranda. There’s no help for it.}”

“{I’m so glad,}” Miranda replied happily.

“{I am too. But I’m still going to win, remember that.}”

“{I will. Do you think there’s any water up here? I could use a drink after all that…}”

Miranda’s voice trailed off as she finally gave her attention to the place they had fought so hard to reach. A meadow filled with a riot of color spread out beneath the trees, winding in all directions. The rich verdure grew close enough to kiss the snow that clung to the highest parts of the peak, and Miranda had to shade her eyes against the sun’s bright reflection even as she struggled to drink in the sight. Catalina pushed herself off the ground and shyly extended a hand to Miranda, who took it without hesitation. There was a hush over the peak, even the birdsongs were muted, and the women walked reverently through the green, unwilling to disturb the silence. It was evident that they were in a holy place.

Remembering Charlie’s words, Miranda inwardly begged leave of the Sânziană to partake of their bounty before dipping her hand into the snow. Her hand did not wither, and she thought this was answer enough. When she tipped a frozen handful into her mouth, it melted instantly, flowing into her and healing all the pains and anxieties of the morning. That one drink quenched her thirst so completely that she wondered if she would ever need to drink again. She felt ready to take on a pack of pricolici all by herself, let alone spend the rest of the day in this Eden gathering wildflowers.

“{Come,}” said Catalina, when the ladies had had their fill. “{Let’s finish what we came here to do.}”

******

“{I haven’t seen my brother since he was five years old. He was in the first group of children that we sent to the Iele,} Catalina said.

She and Miranda were sitting along the edge of the meadow, watching the sun set while they wove extra flowers into crowns to pass the time. Since their bags were full and their meals shared and eaten, there wasn’t much else to do but stall until it was late enough to fall asleep.

“{Why was he sent so young? I thought only the school-aged children were in danger of being taken to Russia.}” Miranda asked, twining the flowers together.

“{He was the boyar’s son. They were going to send him to Russia in order to punish my father. My father…he was a different man before my brother went away. He and my mother had wanted a large family, but they lost all their babies except for Gabi and me. Mother knew that sending Gabi to the Iele was the only way to keep him in Romania, but her heart never accepted the separation. She wasted away, longing for him. At the end, she couldn’t even do magic anymore. After she died, Father went crazy with hate. He was a good man before. Maybe not a nice one, but a good one.}”

“{My Papa went crazy for awhile when my brother Columba died.}”

“{He was young?}”

“{Seventeen. He died in the river, saving a little boy who had fallen in when it was in flood. The boy lived, but Columba didn’t make it. Papa didn’t say a word; not one word all through the wake or the funeral. When Columba was in the ground, Papa disappeared for two months. When he finally came home, he walked into the parlor and said ‘The river giveth and the river taketh away.’ Then he went out in the barn and started doing the chores, like he’d made peace with everything.}” She bit a flower stem to cut it and went on quietly, “{I was at school when it happened, but I should have been home. I had stayed behind to study for some stupid tests that seemed so awfully important at the time. I wish I had gone home. If I’d been there, my brother would still be here today.}”

“{You don’t know that. We never know what would have happened. It’s one of God’s mercies, I think.}”

Catalina finished her crown and set it on Miranda’s head, her lips closed in a soft little smile. Miranda returned the smile, but her fingers became clumsy at her work as she thought of her favorite brother.

“{Miranda, I have something to say to you, but I will deny it to the end of my days if you tell anyone that I said it,}” Catalina said, breaking through Miranda’s reverie.

“{For some reason I’m getting a strong sense of déjà vu, but please go on.}”

Catalina’s forehead furrowed, but she did not press further. “{I want us to work together to complete the final task and to rescue my brother and the rest of the children. If we bring them home at the same time, the competition will be a draw. Then we can duel each other to determine the winner, the way it should have been in the first place.}”

“{That’s a wonderful idea,}” Miranda said warmly, setting her completed crown on Catalina’s brow. “{I agree.}”

“{We will have to keep acting as though we are rivals,}” Catalina stipulated.

“{Understood.}” The last rays of the sun were mingling with the first light of the stars, but the air was still warm and comfortable. Miranda wondered how cold it was going to get and hoped that Catalina was proficient at wandless warming charms, as she wasn’t sure she could keep enough going to cover the two of them throughout the night. By way of broaching the subject, she asked, “{What are we going to do now? It’s too early to sleep and we can’t light a fire.}”

Catalina’s eyes were sparkling mischievously. “{Shhh. If you’re quiet and watch, you’ll see.}”

Twilight enveloped them, and again Miranda was struck by the silence in the place. The women sat, shoulder to shoulder, watching the atmosphere turn from gray to blue to black. Then, in the space of a blink, they were no longer alone on the mountaintop. Perhaps they had never been alone, all that long day. First two, then a dozen, then a score drifted down over the snow. More followed the train, but Miranda was so enraptured by the wonderful beings that she forgot to count. They were tall and lithe, glowing with a rainbow colored light that warmed the meadow more surely than any fire could ever do. Their silvery robes and the feathery locks of their hair trailed behind them, floating like they were submerged in some unseen river. Miranda forgot to breathe until her chest hurt with the omission. Barring unicorns, she had never seen creatures so unearthly, or so lovely.

“{What…}” Miranda whispered, but her voice trailed off before she could finish the thought.

“{The Sânziane,}” Catalina whispered back. “{We must have pleased them.}”

The fairy beings were busy forming circles around the meadow, and two of them broke ranks to glide across to the witches. Miranda followed Catalina’s lead, bowing before the Sânziane even reached them and, when they stood, they found that the fairies held out golden cups as an offering. When Catalina did not hesitate to take the cup and drain it, Miranda followed suit. The liquid inside tasted of spring water and moonlight, and it quelled the hunger pains that had begun to gnaw at Miranda’s insides.

“{Thank you,}” Miranda said, handing the cup back to the Sânziană before her.

The cup vanished before her eyes, and the fairy extended a long-fingered hand to her. This time, Miranda did not hesitate, grasping the Sânziană’s warm hand in hers and following her into the circle. By the time they reached the ring, the sound of the drums and the pipes were clearly discernible, and Miranda joined hands with another Sânziană as well. Catalina’s smiling face mirrored her own from across the meadow, the only other human in the fairy ring tonight.

Somehow, Miranda was not surprised in the least when the dance began and she glanced down to see that she floated above the earth as lightly as the fairies did. And when Balour came to fetch her in the morning she, unlike the famous dancing princesses, was not tired in the least.

*****

End Notes:

Sânziene is a Romanian festival held on June 24th, or St. John’s Day. One of the traditions of the day is for maidens to go picking flowers, one of which should be Lady’s Bedstraw. The day even has it’s own set of gentle fairies, called the Sânziane (singular: Sânziană) .

Catalina is reciting the Miorita, which is the Romanian folk ballad. It is a dialogue between a shepherd and a magical sheep, who warns him that he is going to be murdered by rival shepherds. Rather than try to escape, the shepherd calmly accepts his fate and instructs the sheep how he wishes to be buried while comparing Death to a beautiful bride. It is traditional in Romania to bury unmarried people in wedding clothes because they are marrying Death just like the shepherd in the story. The version quoted here was Englished by Sophie Jewett in 1913.

******

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter 21+

Chapter 23+ >>

#harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #severus snape #severus snape fanfic #severus snape fanfiction #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape x oc #adventure #spying #espionage #romance #second wizarding war #ilvermorny #oc appreciation

4 notes · View notes

bstormhands · 5 years

Text

The Captain and Cassandra p2

The Captain of the Guard lifted his daughter up. “Come on. Do you know where the caravan is?”

“Yes, it’s a few miles ahead. At the bottom of a ravine, but it is easy enough to get to from this side.” Cass said, looking up the path of black rocks.

“Fine, we’ll use the horses though.” He said carefully stretching. After the excitement of the last few minutes his back was aching. Riding a horse had its own problems but it was something he was used to now.

“How’s your back?” Cass asked looking at him carefully.

“It’s fine. Not perfect but good enough.” He admitted as he lead them the long way around the hill taking the gentlest slope he could see.

When they got to the horses they shied away from Cassandra until she held out her hand and let them smell her and recognize her. They were horses from the Corona guard and were solid, good horses. She had known them but it had been a long time.

“That reminds me. Adira said there was a monster out here she was watching.” Cap said as he moved some packs from one of the spare horse to allow his daughter to ride.

Cass stopped and stared. “Adira’s out here watching me?”

Cap did the math in his head. “You’re the monster she’s tracking?”

Cass sighed, “I didn’t leave them on the best of terms. I stole the Moonstone.” She touched the opal on her chest. “And I took the Shadowblade from her. Dad, be careful of her. I don’t trust her. She said she was a friend but I am sure she has her own agenda. Rapunzel touching the Moonstone could have killed her, Adira was okay with that.”

“And you weren’t.” It wasn’t really a question. He knew his daughter intense loyalty to Rapunzel. Which still confused him as to why they are separated but hopefully he can keep his daughter talking.

“No, but that wasn’t the only reason I took the Moonstone.” She said.

“You never seem to do anything for just one reason. Tell me about it as we ride.” Cap said as he took up the reins of his horse and gathered the lead of the pack horses. They swung up onto their horses and walked them to the path of black rocks.

As they started to follow the black rocks Cap said, “I met Adira yesterday when those red rocks appeared. She was gone this morning.”

“Typical Adira.” Cass snorted.

“That also means she’s close.” Cap reminded her.

“Yeah.” Cass said looking around. “She’s a much better fighter then I am, though now I have the Shadowblade. It can cut through blade rocks.”

“Oh, that’s useful.” He remembered all the tools that shattered when they tried to do something about the black racks.

Cass chuckled, “Oh yeah, but I am sure she wants it back. With the Moonstone I can just about hold her off. She is a very good fighter, almost as good as Hector and Edmund.”

Cap frowned, “I’ve heard of Hector before.”

“Hector is insane and will try to kill anyone trying to get to the Dark Kingdom. He is one of the Brotherhood, as is Adira. They are sworn to protect the Dark Kingdom and keep people from the Moonstone.” Cass stated.

“Brotherhood? But Adira’s a woman.” Cap asked with a frown. Why did it seem so many people away from Corona were as nutty as a squirrel’s winter cache.

“Yeah, she thinks its funny too. Anyway the Brotherhood is made up of Hector, Adira, King Edmund, and someone else we know, Quirin.” Cass said drily.

Cap stopped is horse. “Quirin!? Quirin from Old Corona, Varian’s father, Quirin? I knew he was an immigrant but this. The king trusted him.” Cap murmured as he guided the horses around an extra large outcropping of black rocks.

Cass nodded. “I only met Quirin a few times, I think. He seems a down to earth guy but there is a lot more to him then we’ve seen. We’ll need to talk to him once we get back to Corona.”

“Yes we will. I knew him somewhat well. He’s an effective leader, that’s why he gets elected reeve of Old Corona so often.” As captain of the guard he worked with the bailiffs and reeves of all the towns and villages of Corona. He never suspected that he was something far more.

“Oh, that reminds me.” Cass started. Cap looked around checking for Adira when Cass stopped for no reason. They had come to the top of a rise and now they could see a castle in the distance covered with giant black rocks.

“Eugene, may, possibly, be, the son of King Edmund of the Dark Kingdom.” Cass blurted.

Cap parsed what his daughter had said and didn’t like the answer. Then he did the math and still didn’t like the answer he came up with.

“Are you, telling me, that Fitzherbet is, a, a prince?” Cap asked.

“It certainly looks that way.” Cass grumbled.

He put a palm to his face and groaned.

“Yeah, that’s how I feel too. Come on, lets get that book, we’ll take this path down to the Caravan.” She lead them down another path. “Keep your eyes open for Adira. She might not have the Shadowblade but she also has the Spear of Demanitus.”

“The Spear of Demanitus? What’s that?” Cap asked, scanning the heights around them as they went into the ravine.

“Its a spear with a glowing crystal tip. Demanitus made it to stop the corruption Zhan Tiri did to the Great Tree. Hector pulled it out and the vines took him over. The spear could stop the vines but I am sure it can do more. I think the Moonstone will protect me but I am not totally sure.” She ran a hand across her belly.

“What are you wearing?” Cap finally asked.

Cass held out a hand and looked carefully at it as she rotated it. “Black rock. This armor is made up of black rock that appeared when I embedded the Moonstone into my chest.”

“You what?” Cap asked in disbelief.

Cassandra sighed and touched the Moonstone in her chest, “You can’t really hold the Moonstone. It is far too powerful. It wants to be with, join with the Sundrop. It was trying to get away from me. I, I couldn’t let that happen. I slammed it into my chest to do something with it. We’ve bonded. And now I am encased in indestructible black rock.” She ended quietly.

Cap placed at his daughter and then went back to scanning the area so they weren’t surprised by Adira. Then he remembered something about his own armor. “Can you go to the bathroom in that?”

Cass blushed, “DAD!”

“Hey, I know how hard it is to go to the bathroom when you’re wearing armor. You’re not overheating in that are you? Armor gets hot fast and that is all black.” Cap was very concerned for his daughter.

“I’m fine dad. This keeps me comfortable and, “She looked at the hand with the blue glove, “I’m fine.”

“Okay, good. I don’t need you fainting on me.” Cap said gruffly. He was worried about her.

Cass was still blushing rosily as they came out of a gully.

“We’re here.” Cass said. The wreckage of the caravan was spread out a bit. It had fallen down a high cliff and slammed into a pile of those black rocks. They dismounted and poked through the debris. Cass looked at one large chunk of the caravan with her hands on her hips.

“The girl’s room was on this side and the book was in there.” Cass thought out loud.

Cap sighed, that looked heavy.

“No, dad. Stay back. I can do this.” Cass said.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah.” But he could tell there was doubt in her. She stepped over a ripped painting of herself and Rapunzel and put her hands on the debris. She took a breathe and then the black rocks began to glow blue and extend. Cap was surprised as the rocks pushed the caravan over. It rolled over and spilled stuff everywhere.

Cass fell to her knees.

“Cass, Are you okay?” He rushed over to his daughter’s side.

“Yeah. I’m still figuring out how to use these powers.” Cass said. She took his hand and he helped her up. She walked over the splintered wood and open a cabinet that was full of books and jumbled papers.

“Ah here it is!” she said triumphantly.

She came over and gave it to him. “Don’t lose this. The counter potion has like 54 ingredients. They’re common enough so it won’t be a problem. You can make it on the way. You might need to add a handful of min to it. Rapunzel added it and she got her memory back anyway.”

Cap opened his mouth, then closed it. It was going to be a long trip back to Corona and there was plenty of time for talking on the road. There was obviously a lot to share and somethings she wasn’t ready to share yet. He put the book in his bag and slung it behind him.

“You’re coming with me, aren’t you?” he asked. Having the book to restore the king and queen was good but he had found his daughter. He wanted to bring her home.

“I-I don’t know.” Cass said, not looking at him.

“Come home. With me.” He held out his hand with all his love in his eyes.

She looked at him for a long moment.

“Okay dad.” She said taking his hand.

#captain of the guard #tangled the series #cassandra #rapunzels tangled adventure #fanfic #fanfiction #bstormhands #bstormhand's stuff

13 notes · View notes