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wordstome · 4 months

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könig as the nutcracker 🥹🥹

you just brought some terrible sleeping beast out of me, anon.

nutcracker prince König x fem reader (mostly gender neutral but you're wearing a dressing gown)

tw: mouse murder???

He's a very odd looking nutcracker, all things considered, but you can't take your eyes off of him.

"If it's a nutcracker why does it have that stupid veil over its face?" Your brother asks, noisily crunching candies between his molars. You glare at him, both for the rude remark and for chewing with his mouth open.

"This is a special one," your aunt gushes. "He's based off of a legendary soldier who never showed his face on the battlefield. One of a kind, from a specialty toy shop.”

"How interesting..." You muse, gently rubbing the fabric of the veil between your fingers. It's sturdy fabric, but still soft to the touch.

"He was probably ugly as hell," your brother declares. You swat him, and he only cackles and gets up to graze at some more sweets.

"Maybe you should try covering that ugly mug up once in a while," you call after him. He pelts you with a walnut shell.

Your aunt shakes her head fondly. "This one's not just decorative," she says. "He's a real nutcracker by Steinbach."

You look at her, wide-eyed. "So he can crack nuts?"

She nods and tosses you a hazelnut. "Try it."

You lift the wooden man's veil a little to put the hazelnut in his mouth. You could just pull the whole thing up and out of the way, but that feels almost...forbidden? You're not sure why you feel this way—he's just a piece of wood, after all, and he probably doesn't even have anything painted on underneath the veil other than those vibrant blue eyes. But even so, you're hesitant to unmask him.

Cracking the nut works like a charm, though, and some childish excitement bubbles up inside you as the remnants of the cracked hazelnut spill into your palm. "That's incredible!" you gush, running your thumb over the nutcracker's lacquered uniform.

"What do you mean incredible, that's what nutcrackers are for." Your brother returns, a few walnuts rolling around in his palm. He holds his other hand out. "Give him here."

"No. You called him ugly, so he's mad at you," you say, teasing him by holding the nutcracker out of his reach.

Your brother rolls his eyes. "Give it here, you little shit."

"Crack your own nuts," you shoot back. "This is my nutcracker."

He makes another grab for it, and this time he manages to grab the nutcracker's arm. It's only a lighthearted tussle between siblings as you shove at your brother and he refuses to let go of the nutcracker's arm—until it's not.

A terrible snapping of breaking wood causes you to gasp. The two of you stumble away from each other from the force, your brother holding a tiny wooden arm in his hand. He's just pulled it clean off. On closer inspection, your idiot brother has somehow managed to Hulk-rip the arm piece off of the piece that fits inside the socket. "This is a brand new nutcracker, how did you fuck it up?!" you cry.

"Hey, you should have—" Your brother takes one look at your expression and decides not to give you a hard time. "Look, I'm sorry. I was too rough on it. Sit tight for a second." You sit there, numbly staring at the pieces of your poor nutcracker. Really, it's your fault too—why didn't you just let him have the damn thing?

And why is this upsetting you so much? The nutcracker's just a decoration, albeit one with a little more function than most. You feel a sort of attraction to this little wooden man in your hand, though. Maybe it's because his unique design is interesting, or maybe it's because you're intrigued by the idea of a masked soldier who never shows his face. Either way, he was your gift anyway, so it's not that unusual that you're attached to him...right?

"Here, let me see him." Your brother's back, but to your horror, he's holding a pair of needle-nose pliers. "Absolutely not," you respond, jumping up from where you were sitting on the floor. "You are not getting anywhere near my nutcracker with those things. You're just going to fuck it up even more."

"It'll be fiiine," he insists, clicking the pliers open and closed like some maniacal toy surgeon. You're not sure you like the devious glint in his eye. Your brother's a nice guy for the most part, but sometimes he gets this look in his eye that you imagine Dr Frankenstein must have had when he was assembling his creation.

You hold the nutcracker and his detached arm protectively to your chest. "I'll figure out how to fix him in the morning with glue or something," you insist. "I don't need you poking around with pliers and splintering the wood."

"Are you sure? I am sorry, for what it's worth."

You wave him off. You're still kind of mad at him, but you're both adults. You'll live. "Don't worry about it. I think I'm going to head to bed soon, anyway."

"You should keep his arm with him, dear," you aunt pipes up. She had gone into the kitchen during the whole ordeal, but had probably heard everything go down. "Tape it to his side or something. You wouldn't want to lose it."

That's a good idea, you muse, examining your poor amputated nutcracker. You're just about to take her suggestion when you get an idea.

Your brother checks in with you later, right before he goes to bed as well. "You can't be serious," he says. "You made him an arm sling?"

You tie the knot on the little scrap of cloth around the little wooden man's arm nice and snug. "Oh, I'm dead serious," you say. "Doesn't he look cute?"

Your brother lets out a resigned sigh. "Yeah. Sure."

The rest of the evening is relatively uneventful. You put the nutcracker in your room, right on top of the dresser, while you go about your bedtime routine. It always brings you a bit of joy to walk out of the bathroom and see him there, standing tall and proud.

Well, your evening would have been uneventful...had you not bolted awake in bed an hour or two later.

You're groggy and confused, trying to figure out what the hell is going on, when you hear the cacophony of noise. It sounds like footsteps, dozens upon dozens of them, stampeding through your walls. And then the mice show up.

They crawl up from the corners and the floorboards, swarming across your room. You're too terrified to move or even scream out, sure that you must be having some terrible nightmare or hallucination.

And then your nutcracker moves.

You're absolutely positive now that you must be dreaming, watching frozen from your bed as your nutcracker leaps down from your dresser as if he's a living, breathing man and beginning to fight the mice. And he's even...talking?

"Finally, some worthy adversaries!" you hear him cry. You gape at this bloodthirsty little soldier as he beats through mouse after mouse with his tiny sword.

It's an impossible battle, you think. There's no way he can take all those mice alone, and with one injured arm aside...you're usually pretty squeamish when it comes to dubious little animals, but you can't just leave your nutcracker to be overwhelmed. Besides, this is all a dream, so nothing matters, right?

There's one mouse, larger than the others, who's at the back of the pack, squeaking as if giving orders. You're having quite a wild dream, honestly, because the mouse is even wearing a little crown. Like a king, you think with some amusement. You reach over the edge of your bed to pick the mouse up by the scruff.

You're not quite sure what happens next. One moment, the mouse is chattering angrily at you, the next you're on the floor. At first you think you've simply lost your balance and fallen onto the floor, but when you scramble to your feet, you nearly fall over again as you take in your surroundings.

You've shrunk.

Your bedroom is cavernous above your head, your bedposts and furniture as tall as skyscrapers. And worse still, the mice are huge too: the once palm-sized mouse king is now as large as you are, sneering down at you from his snout. You didn't even know mice could sneer.

You yelp and throw yourself to the side to dodge one of the mice lunging at you. "It's time to wake up," you mutter to yourself through clenched teeth. "It would be really really nice to wake up right about now...!"

The mice are unrelenting, a vicious gleam in their eyes as they nip at your heels. They manage to corner you against a piece of furniture, snapping their jaws menacingly. All you can think to do is pray as they draw ever closer, their breath hot as they crowd around you—

A sword neatly lops off the head of one of the mice in front of you.

You gasp and look upwards to see your nutcracker looming above you, his sword gleaming in the low light of your bedroom. He's incredibly menacing at this size, his veil becoming intimidating rather than charming. You're far smaller than him now—if he had been a normal sized man, he would have easily cleared six feet. His eyes are vibrant and intense, staring down at you for a brief moment before they turn back towards his enemy.

You sit there, stock-still in awe as you watch him mow through his adversaries. It takes you a moment to realize you probably shouldn't be hanging around and gawping. Good thing, too, because your knight in shining lacquer is too distracted to notice he's being snuck up on. The larger mouse is creeping up behind him, a wicked glint in its eye.

"No!" you cry. Thinking fast, you pull off your slipper and chuck it at the mouse's head, stunning it. I can't believe that actually worked, you think.

You have to give your nutcracker some credit, his reflexes are wicked-sharp. In a single heartbeat, he's run the mouse king through with his sword. He cuts an imposing figure, his eyes sharp and deadly. But there's a sort of glee in them as well, the kind of thing that should make you uneasy.

It doesn't.

The rest of the mice, seeing their leader fallen, beat a hasty retreat, tugging the corpses of their fallen comrades along with them. You watch them, fascinated, until all that remains of the bloody conflict are a few tiny pools of blood streaked along your floorboards.

"I must thank you," comes the voice of your nutcracker. You look at him, unsure of what to say. You're welcome for throwing a shoe at a giant mouse to keep it from killing you?

"I...of course," is what eventually comes out. You smooth out your dressing gown in a futile effort to look presentable. "I couldn't let him hurt you."

The nutcracker tilts his head curiously. "You don't know me."

"Of course I do. You're my nutcracker," you say, instantly feeling silly once the words leave your mouth. You just received him as a gift, and you only just found out he was sentient anyway. You don't know why you feel so protective...

He shifts his injured arm, the sling still in place. "You bound my arm, as well."

You flush with embarrassment. "I-it was the least I could do," you stammer. "I shouldn't have let my brother do that. Really, it was my own fault—" Your words die in your throat as the nutcracker moves in close to you, so close that you can feel his body heat. Since when did he have body heat?

"Pretty," he murmurs under his breath. You stare at him, dumbfounded. Is your nutcracker...hitting on you?

Suddenly, you snap back to your senses. "Oh my God," you exclaim, staring down at yourself and then back towards your surroundings. "I'm still small. And I haven't woken up yet. Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Please tell me I'm dreaming." You pinch your skin, letting out a small exclamation when it hurts. But you still don't wake up.

"Hmm...you won't solve your predicament that easily, little one," the nutcracker muses.

"Wha—do you know how to fix this?"

"I have a hunch," he responds, brow furrowing. You hadn't noticed eyebrows on him when you were examining him earlier in the evening, you note.

"Do tell."

"You've had a curse placed on you, but I don't know how to break it. I do, however, know someone who might know how."

"Well then take me to them!" You stare at him beseechingly. You watch as several indecipherable emotions run through his eyes, then he nods.

You visibly relax. "Thank you."

"You'll have to trust me. You may find the whole process a little...fantastical."

"More fantastical than my nutcracker coming to life and fighting an army of mice on my bedroom floor?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow. His eyes crinkle in a way that must mean he's smiling.

"More fantastical than that," he says. He offers you a hand like a true gentleman, and to your shock, it feels like flesh, not wood. His grip is firm but soothing, his hand so huge it dwarfs your own.

"Let's do this, then."

uhhhhhhh wow this got kinda long I had to cut it short. I'll probably write a part 2? But it's gotta wait because I've got a gazillion other things to write first :P Thank you for the inspiration, anon! 🥺

#yes this König has blue eyes #könig #konig #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #könig fanfiction #konig fanfiction #könig cod #konig cod #könig call of duty #cod #call of duty

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babsisbakery · 2 months

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Kitchen miracle

Leah Williamson x dutch!reader

“Leah, get your ass in the kitchen.” her head shoots up from her phone almost immediately. What the hell has she done this time, are her thoughts. After cautiously entering the kitchen she realises what has slipped her mind. She tried to make you breakfast but then her mum called her in the morning and she kinda forgot. So she stares at the slight mess she had made. Flour on the counter, egg shells left and right to a completely doughy mixture covered apron. A bad cook to say the least. But it's the gesture that counted. “I’m sorry my love, I totally forgot, my mum called a-” “Le what were you doing?” “Uhm tried to make you some breakfast.” It doesn't sound like a statement rather a question. “Babe, I can't be mad at you, you're too sweet for your own good.” You walk towards your girlfriend and envelope her in a tight hug. “I love you Le” with a bashful grin Leah returns the declaration. “I love you too.” After standing in each other's arms for a few minutes just enjoying the warmth of your partner, Leah speaks up, “Could you please show me how to make your favourite breakfast?”

Your head turns downwards to look into her eyes. “Of course i can, let's get to it shall we but first we should clean up this chaos love.” a giggle leaves your lips while Leah shamefully looks away. With your fingers on her chin you turn her head. “Baby there is nothing to be ashamed of.” and with leaving her time to respond you kiss her. A few moments go by, you pull away, Leah chasing your lips, unsuccessfully as you're taller than her, and you bite your lower lip as Leah’s actions are melting your heart.

So while you are searching for the perfect playlist to start baking in the meantime Leah begins cleaning. Kitchen peace is restored pretty quickly with two people working together ideally. “Okay now I'm going to weigh everything and you take out the Pannenkoeken pan cause we are making Pannenkoekeeeeeen.” “We are making what?” “Babe you know pancakes, right?” “Of course I know what pancakes are but what in the world are Pannenkoeken?” You are amused by her confusion, her furrowed brow looks quite adorable. “It's similar to pancakes, don't question me, rather help cause I’m the one who could make something tasty.” Leah’s hand shoots to her chest acting offended but you both know she is joking.

“Step one is to mix all the dry ingredients together which means flour, salt, cinnamon and vanilla sugar.” Your girlfriend carefully combines these, eager to continue. “Now for the next step I like to whisk the eggs in a separate bowl beforehand so it's well distributed when added to the flour.” You grab an extra bowl and hand it to the defender. She does as she's told and then pours them into the dry mixture. “Well done babe. Now follows milk and a tiny bit of melted butter. And e voila.” Leah stares at you dumbfounded, “Wait that's it, we are done?” “Yeah see its pretty easy when you get the hang of it darling.” She is amazed. “But you still have to do the actual Pannenkoeken now that the ‘dough’ is ready to go.”

“I pre-heated the pan a bit for you, just have to put some butter on it and scoop the batter into the pan. Rotate the pan and wait. When the beige colour turns into a more yellowish one you flip it. Got it?” “Yeah I think I got it.” As you suspect she does it excellently. Leah gets more comfortable making them with each Pannenkoeken. While she is in her element, surprisingly, you search the cabinets for something to eat them with. Cutting up some fruit, getting out the Nutella, jam and honey plus walnuts you are all set. Two dishes are already on the counter stacked with a few Pannenkoeken. You can't believe your eyes as you turn around and find your girlfriend flipping one in the air. Luckily she catches it, serving it on your plate.

Both of you sit down on the dining table, diving in. “That was really fun my love, we should do that more often.” states Leah. A grin on your face and a satisfied stomach make you nod. “Definitely, you did an amazing job. Maybe I’ll make a chef out of you after all.” You both burst out laughing. “Good one baby, good one.”

#woso #england lionesses #woso x reader #leah williamson #arsenal women #fem reader #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader

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monicahar · 2 years

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drunken nights.

when they get a bit too wasted...

characters; cyno, scaramouche, tighnari, kazuha, nilou, shenhe

; gn! reader, alcohol/drinking, established relationship, slight nsw themes of scara's hehe, this is so unnecessarily long

if you somehow manage to get this man to drink away his burdens, CYNO would be the goofy type of drunk. usually, he'd keep his jokes to himself, waiting for an opportunity to insert them in a conversation. but when he's utterly besotted, that boundary completely disappears into thin air. think of it as a barn of chickens, once his mental capacity is impaired due to drinking, all those chickens escape, about to enforce chaos. you and your friends now have to listen to his horrible jokes throughout the entire night, even if they have no correlation to the topic of the conversation whatsoever. it also doesn't help a bit that he contagiously cackles at all of his jokes. his soar laughing fills the entire table with a sense of melancholy. even after you both get home, he's still cracking horrible jokes whilst you're trying to shove water down his throat.

“hey, hey, [name], do you know why I love you so dearly?” you stay quiet, minding your own business until he suddenly wraps his arms around you—earning a small yelp as he breaths down your ear. “because you're perfect.” “cyno...that's not even funny...” you struggle to surpress the incoming blush. “it's not a joke, you walnut...”

if SCARAMOUCHE ever entertains the thought of getting drunk to momentarily forget his burdens, he'd probably only want to do it alone with you. which is why you're both now in his inazuman-styled bedroom, cups of sake in each other's hands as you both quietly talk just about anything, throwing in some insults here and there because we know how he is. i see him becoming almost becoming a completely different person when drunk. he's more chill, and is definitely a lot more talkative than when he's sober. “i saw a cat today, it reminded me of you.” you lean onto his shoulder, feeling the headache already. “was it mean to you?” he throws a slight glare. “bingo. it was cute though. much like you.” he doesn't have the heart to get mad at the moment. not because he's drunk or anything, but because of how grazing hot your skin is against his. both of your kimonos are loosened due to the growing heat of the room.

he catches a glimpse of your bare shoulders and collarbone, a canvas ready for him to paint with...ahem. suddenly feeling a carnal desire burn inside him, he quickly shifts his position, looking more carefully at your flushed face, dilated eyes as you breath heavily. “kuni, is it just me or is it getting warmer—” you're unable to finish talking as he crashes his lips onto yours. good night ;)

TIGHNARI would be too refined and busy for such activities, so i will use his status as a researcher to my advantage. he's come across a wide variety of plants, but one of your favourite discoveries of his would be that one particular mushroom that enacts alcoholic symptoms upon a living being that consumes it. you both come across it during an expedition, and unsurprisingly—he wants to see its capabilities, ordering you to record it's effects, and to bring him back to ghandarva ville if it turns out serious. he chews on it, slightly grimacing at the taste before he says he feels nothing. making sure to take a sample, you both trudge home just in case it has delayed effects. his guess was right it seems, much to his dismay. you remind yourself to record the effects as he had instructed, but...he's so cute! you can't help but coo at his flushed state, clinging onto your waist as he babbles about nonsense.

“okay, tighnari...i have to write your paper, let go of me for a bit...!” you freeze when he slightly growls in annoyance, tightening his grip on you. his tail wags when you start rubbing his ears, “no...forget it for now...it's just some alcoholic shroom anyways...” “it could turn out more serious, you know?” “don't care...just stay close to me.” he says that, but the very next morning—he's now scolding you for getting distracted from your objective. you had it coming.

we've all seen it. the legendary drunk KAZUHA during the golden archipelago event. he's canonly a slurring mess when drunk, much contrary to his usual poetic self. he leans onto your shoulder, hugging your arm as he coos at how “beauti'fuuul” you are. you can hear venti snicker in the background, earning him a glare from you. he raises his hands in defense and winks, "ehe, he's really intoxicated, isn't he? not just by the beverage, but by you as well." "how romantic!” xinyan cheers. deliberately returning your gaze towards your drunked lover. “kazu, it's time to go home. stand up for me will you?” you attempt to pull him up, but you're surprised to see that he immediately shoots up from his seat, swaying a bit from his dizziness. “hehe, anything'fo my super amaziiiing luvwer...” it reliefs you to know that he still recognises you despite not being fully rational at the moment. arriving at the inn you both rented a night for, you clean him up before plopping down on the bed, exhaustion taking over your sense as he suddenly crawls over you.

“kazu, you need to sleep early. we have a trip tomorrow...” he pays no mind to what you said, leaving butterfly kisses on your neck as you tremble under his hold. this is escalating a bit too fast, you think as you slightly lean back. “mm, i'll sleep, dun' worry...” he hums, muttering an apology onto your neck before snoozing off. what a handful.

as a renowned dancer in sumeru, NILOU is often invited to many parties or celebrations. after dancing for her audience, she'd of course get invited by people to their tables, in hopes of getting to compliment her for the amazing performance. she never drinks alcohol though, choosing to drink juice to maintain her composure and image. except for that one time you were getting forced to drink, but obviously didn't want to so she drank a cup in your stead, earning howls of laughter from your fellow buddies. “how bold of you.” you tease her, causing her to blush. “it's just—you seemed uncomfortable so...” “you're lightweight though. will you be alright? sorry in advance if this gets you in trouble with your manager.” ahhh. :D she completely forgot about that part. raising a brow at the way her expression freezes, you giggle at her usual airhead self. “don't worry. i'll explain it to them in person.” you hold her hand as she starts to sway, her eyes staring to close from the headache that's already growing. that cup of sake was probably a bit too much for what she can handle.

as she's currently freed from her subconscious need of containing her image, she's now smiling like an idiot as she leans onto you, hugging your waist as she nuzzles her face onto your neck. her thoughts are eventually blurred as she starts doze off, only thinking about the way you smell very nice.

someone who you'd never expect to be a fun drinking buddy would be SHENHE. the line that her red seal creates between her soul and her emotions are blurred when she gets intoxicated. choosing to get drunk with you would mean she's intentionally dropping her guard around you, wanting you to see a more vulnerable side of hers. "i often wondered if me having an adeptus's diet would affect how alcohol would take effect in my body. turns out, no...this drink is a dangerous weapon.” you snort at the seriousness in her tone, “yes, very dangerous indeed.” she perks up all of sudden. “your laugh just now.” you blink at her statement. what was wrong with your laugh? you tilt your head, beckoning her to continue. “it was very...cute...? is that how you use that word?” “you only found it cute just now?” you say with a false expression of hurt. “i never thought you to be so cruel with me shenhe...” she tilts her head much like you did earlier. “i've always thought it was 'cute'. i have to constantly tell you?”

you slightly pout, “yes. you do. i want affirmation from you too, you know.” and with that, she suddenly stands up, leaving her cup at her side of the table as she makes her way towards you, abruptly leaning down as she awkwardly cradles your face with her hand. you can smell the alcohol from her lips as your breath hitches. “[name], you're cute.” the words come out more stiff than she intended, but you still found it heartwarming nonetheless.

#tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #nilou x reader #shenhe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #har❗fiction

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just-indi · 5 months

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A little something I made awhile back.

#random #petition to get walnut to go to therapy when #walnut is mentally unwell‼️#walnut is going mad #tyler tdi #alejandro tdi #aletyler #I like girls!!!#then why are you blushing?#uh #takes off belt #clap clap clap #oh! that’s a load of!-#please ignore the tags #aletyler supremacy #tyler my beloved

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walnutcookiesstuff · 7 months

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it's like 4am here I need to go to sleep

#walnutcookiesstuff #ask walnut and cream puff #walnut is mentally unwell ‼️#walnut is going mad

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squarenail · 2 months

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Some absolute nonsense inspired by @pfhwrittes recent post on British Wildlife.

T141 and the British Wildlife they’d lose to

Kyle: 🦊

Kyle Garrick feared no man. He’d looked plenty a terrorist in the eye, pulled the trigger to ensure they couldn’t hurt anyone again, throwing himself into unknown territories in the pursuit of world peace.

But this was no man.

This was a London Fox.

Kyle was trapped, helpless, watching his hard earned dinner be scarfed down by a mother and cubs who had all but robbed him at knife point for it. Some fights were not worth the trauma, and this was definitely one of them.

Simon: 🦔

Silence lay heavy across the dark country lane, disturbed only by the hissing of a newly crumpled car radiator.

“Unfucking believable” Simon muttered, perched on the rise of dirt that bordered the ditch his car was currently head first in.

He watched, hands twitching, as the hedgehog that caused him to swerve continued its slow plod across the road.

“Stupid spikey cunt” he thought, wondering just how mad Price is going to be that he’s totalled his 3rd job car this year.

John: 🪿 (I know it’s a swan, best I could do)

It took police 8 minutes to respond to the call at the beach. Concern for safety, said the log, for a man shouting at the sky. On arrival they were presented with old mutton chops himself, screaming at a seagull perched on the lifeguard post.

“You fucking feathery fucking cunting bastard, you wait till I get my hands on you, I’m going to rip you wing from wing you utter cunt”

The seagull, completely unbothered by the noise, continued to peck at the cigar it had mistaken for a sausage.

Johnny: 🐿️

“Ach ya wee prick” Johnny hollered, only managing to get to his feet by the time the squirrel had scaled the tree. A picnic in the forest seemed like a good date idea until his homemade trail-mix was clocked by the local wildlife.

“Johnny it’s fine, just come and sit down” his beau soothed.

“Naw. It’s the principle of the matter. Those walnuts were fucking expensive” he replied, never taking his eyes off the bushy tailed target hopping between branches.,

Johnny didn’t get a second date. Nor did he get his nut back. Apparently spending twenty minutes jumping to swipe at a squirrel and cussing out its da’ gave them ‘the ick’

#task force 141 #cod 141 #141 headcanons #simon riley #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick

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ay0nha · 9 months

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Some Unholy War | Theseus Scamander (IV)

SUMMARY: Theseus was always talented in thinking clearly. Logically. He wanted you to be wrong, but your instincts pushed you to keep moving. It was the only way to stay one step ahead of Sinclair. It contrasted Theseus’ plan to stay put within the walls of the Ministry. You contrasted his very being.

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, flashback of sorts, mutual pining, semi enemies-to- lovers, always a protective Theseus, SLOW burn, etc.

A/N: HELLO. Again, this took me longer than I would have liked. So, rather than rushing it, I’m going to break it up into two parts...I’m going to take a lil break to get my head together, but I’m v excited in how this second part is going to go!!! So, stay tuned...As always, thank you, @kalllistos. Comments are always welcomed. Enjoy.

PART I, PART II, PART III

Effort was a comical notion.

Magic required it at times, just as breathing did. The effort now felt good, worth it. The icy air that reached the ends of your lungs stung. Yet, each breath was quieter, the effort only coming in the form of physical mechanics of pushing a warm breath back out that the air around you marked.

“Are you mad?” Theseus’ exclamation hadn’t taken any exertion. The pent-up anger almost made you flinch. Theseus yelled after you as you continued forward. He never begged you to stop; he told you. Sometimes you’d listen just to display your wit.

You were quiet, entering the idyllic fog, hoping it would swallow you whole.

“Keep up….” Your voice was airy, the instruction more for yourself. The memory was faded, your mind trying to hold onto it as it threatened to slip between your fingers.

It started in Theseus’ office—a muddled memory overlapping with the friction of everything around you. It was more a feeling, something foggy and unrestrained that called you forward. It felt a bit like apparating, where your body didn’t quite belong for the moments it took to find your footing again.

You scolded yourself for not seeing it clearly; that was the thing about divination.

Although studied meticulously, its real trait was its vitality. It shifted and molded. Evolved. It made even more concrete things seem like rubber, rejecting electricity with an uncanny ability to mold into shapes unknown. It was the type of thing that could be so exciting to happen just to become something so vague that it no longer held value to it.

Theseus’ words were drowned out as your ears produced a ringing. All you could hear was your shaky breaths, and all you could see was a faint familiarity with your surroundings. Even your stumbling steps backward felt practiced.

Your breath became labored as the hazy recollection returned. Even through the blur, you saw how the tips of his ears and nose burned red with frustration. It was a trait of his that remained as he rose so many inches he towered over you, and his hair curled the longer her let it grow.

The years did nothing to change it.

“This is it….” Your fingers fumbled with a curl at the nape of his neck. His hair was long, longer than he usually kept it. Time had gotten the better of him. How could you be so blind?

Theseus’ tirade wavered. He was supposed to be angry. He was supposed to do so many things, but your touch felt like an enchantment. It reminded him of how dangerous you could be.

The walnut of Theseus’ wand was always stiff, but it cast its spells briskly and powerfully. Ollivander told him it wasn’t rare to be drawn to the material, but it scarcely paired with dragon heartstring. Because of the extreme dominance of this wood, the core was stoic and gentle and had done Theseus well from the moment he received it. Yet, pressed against your chest to stall your next step, it felt that even the wand knew it was a misguided action.

“Don’t be foolish, Theseus.” You spat at the gesture. His wand only pressed into your chest as if trying to will away his emotions. “Don’t you recognize where we are?”

He shook his head. If he looked beside him, he knew he would crumble.

You tried to reason, “We couldn’t stay there. The Ministry—

“We’re going back.” Although his voice was steady, emotion wavered in his eyes. “I won’t fall into your trap. You can’t just—

“It’s too late.” You pushed forward, the wood digging into your clavicle with drive. “I’m ruined anyways.” The invariability of the words reflected your decision. “By your hand or his.”

Theseus was always talented in thinking clearly. Logically. He wanted you to be wrong, but your instincts pushed you to keep moving. It was the only way to stay one step ahead of Sinclair. It contrasted Theseus’ plan to stay within the Ministry's walls.

You contrasted his very being.

“Why did you bring me here?” Anger drifted from Theseus’ voice, and the space it abandoned was soon tenanted by something else—a kind of endearment, muslin light.

Theseus first brought you there for a quiet you didn’t know you needed. It was ambient full of croaking creatures and twigs snapping from the pressure of unknown forces. It was a blissful oasis that lured you into its dark depths.

The environment was damp, still reflecting the country’s dreariness. It was hidden, though. A broken-off path Theseus—well, Newt—had stumbled upon in childhood. It was a good hiding place to play, to sneak, and for you to abuse.

“I didn’t see it coming.” It felt strange to admit your best-hidden secret. “Any of it.” Your eyes remained on Theseus, willing trust to transfer. “But I just couldn’t—I knew deep down, I couldn’t lose everything.”

One time, you came to read Theseus’ palm under the full moon—a silly excuse to feel the weight of his hand in yours. The times following grew, the touches still shy with adolescence but bolder in a discovery of emotion.

The memory was a shared favorite, an inside joke of sorts to make the other feel warmth in your fingers that spread to the center of your chest. You hadn’t meant to bastardize it, but its safety was all you could rely on.

“But this, I saw this.” You would continue until Theseus understood. You had told him of your vision all those years ago. It was your only justifiable proof. “This needs to happen.”

Recognition flashed across his features.

Theseus dropped his wand with a tight breath. Looking to the sky, he became lost in turmoil. Once his gaze hit the dirt beneath his feet, it did nothing to aid him. You watched his fingers pull through the hair at the back of his head as if unraveling an answer.

You spoke when his hand fit over his mouth in frustration. “You promised me.”

“We were teenagers.” He snapped, denying the truth. “What did I know about prophecies?”

“Enough to believe me.” You felt young again, begging Theseus to revert with you. You wanted to hear his reassurances, his bold-faced vows to remain by your side despite the trouble you found.

That holiday, you told him everything—your plans to run away, the images that flashed in your dreams of the future, and how he centered them all as an essential turning point. It spilled out of you, and you couldn’t stop. At the time, the swampy place was at the core unbeknownst.

If Theseus had known, he may not have regretted the promise to always be there for you. No questions asked. It sounded embarrassingly naive. You could still hear how desperately he wanted you to believe him. Even then, you knew it would lead to something like this.

Even then, just as now, you diminished how well Theseus knew you. “What aren’t you telling me?”

#q #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander fluff #theseus scamander angst #theseus scamander x f!reader #theseus scamander #theseus #scamander #fantastic beasts fic #theseus scamander fantastic beasts #newt scamander x reader

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mirandasidefics · 1 month

Text

But Home is Nowhere-Part 6

Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Part 6 Summary: Nearly half a year has gone by and Reader is no closer to finding a way home. Reader has set her sights on finally going outside of the Night Court to find answer on how to return home. However, Rhysand is a prick.

Author's note: Screw it, I'm adding a ship to this damn thing. The more I write, the more I realize that Ruhn and Reader have a thing I can't ignore (#writerproblems). Just know in advanced that they will NOT be endgame. I was debating on not splitting this part up, but I figured that this already had a lot going on so it was probably best. Its still at 5.6K words. That and I really didn't want to delay posting an update any longer. This does have some time skips, but nothing too crazy.

Warnings: Slight spoilers for CC3 (HOFAS).

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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Lucien entered the town house and immediately headed for the stairs that lead to the upper floor. He had winnowed clear across Prythian from the Spring Court upon receiving Rhysand’s note informing him that (Y/N) had an accident. Mother spare him, but despite their argument he still worried over the woman’s safety while he was away. He wanted to stay mad, he truly did however…He didn’t trust the males in this court enough to give her the space she would need to feel safe. He had debated on asking Feyre to allow (Y/N) to accompany him to the mortal lands. There she would at least have been safe with Jurian and Vassa. More so, she would have been safe with him. She likely would have been more comfortable with her own kind too. Then again, Jurian and Vassa weren’t exactly typical humans. He also didn’t know the individuals from Midgard well enough to trust them. The one male that held an unsettling resemblance to Rhysand, the way he had looked at her was like he’d seen a ghost. Lucien didn’t quite know what to make of that. No, his ability to trust anyone with caring for her was thin and needed to be earned. The fact that something happened and she’s been injured while he was away was proof enough. Trust was a precious commodity in his life.

When Bryce had first arrived, Lucien had been kept in the dark. He only became aware of everything after Rhysand had asked him for assistance in creating and securing the portal that they established near the River House. The idea was to have a secure location to monitor anyone else coming and going. Especially after they had all agreed to assist in the rescue of her mate and brother. It had honestly surprised the male that the High Lord had trusted him enough with this task. But after seeing Bryce for himself, her crimson hair almost a near match for his own. Well, he could certainly hazard a guess as to why his blood may be useful. Especially, if that message from one of the High Queen’s daughters was accurate. It was likely that inhabitants of the areas that had become the Autumn Court traveled to the new world as well all those millennia ago. As an emissary of the Night Court it wouldn’t surprise Lucien if Rhysand ultimately asked he go on a diplomatic mission to Midgard at some point.

Lucien took the stairs two steps at a time. The woman’s soft vanilla scent filled his senses as he approached the room she occupied. The one that had been his when he first arrived to the Night Court. The fire in his veins calmed as her scent washed over him. He hadn’t even realized that the magic was poised to be unleashed, tensed from his worry. He didn’t bother to knock on the door before he opened it. The human woman sat on the bed, her back against the dark walnut headboard, a leg propped up on a pillow. He barely registered the dangerously short emerald green silk nightdress she wore. His eyes immediately traveled down the bare expanse of her exposed leg to the white linin wrappings around her ankle. Relief fully washed over him. He didn’t know why he had expected something worse, but he was glad that it wasn’t. His golden eye whirred as it focused on her ankle and he took a few steps into the room. He sat on the end of the bed, his hands gingerly lifted her leg and placed it on his lap so he could examine it for himself. The wrapping was tight and kept her foot in as much of a neutral position as it possible to allow the healing magic to run its course. Once satisfied that it had been treated properly, his gaze turned towards hers. Surprise filled her expression. It suddenly dawned on him that he had rushed into her room without so much as a word. On top of that he had immediately started to inspect her condition as if she were…he stopped that line of thinking immediately. ‘She is my friend. I am allowed to be worried about my friends.’ Lucien stared as her expression went from surprise to confusion to relief.

“You came back,” Her low and warm voice was soft as the almost question passed her lips. Suddenly she tossed the book that had been in her lap to the side. She swung her legs underneath her plump frame before she launched herself towards Lucien. “You came back.” He barely had time to brace himself when she slammed against him, her arms wrapping around his torso. His own arms followed suit, holding her close. He had missed her warmth.

“Of course, I came back. I didn’t plan to stay away long.” He chuckled.

“I’m so sorry Lu,” She whispered against his neck, her breath caused the skin on the back of his neck to pleasantly rise. “I-I should have let you explain yourself.”

“It’s alright sweet girl,” He rubbed his palm along her back. “You had every right to be upset. I apologize as well. I should have talked to you about what to share with the others before doing so.”

“Still, I didn’t need to say those things,” She pulled back slightly to look at him. “I know that you were trying to help. I know that you care. You have no obligation to me, but you are an amazing friend. I’m really sorry for the way that I treated you when I was upset.”

“I appreciate that,” His throat tightened ever so slightly. He continued to hold her, the two of them sharing a comfortable silence.

“Do you have to go back soon?” She asked.

“No,” He smiled down at her, (e/c) orbs alight with that fire he was growing too accustomed to. “I’m yours until you’re healed.”

“Oh? Aren’t I special then,” Her returning grin caused the flames to dance. He couldn’t help but laugh. She pulled away and carefully maneuvered herself back towards the headboard of the bed. She reached for the book and patted against the space next to her.

“Want me to read aloud?” She shook the book in her hand. Lucien stood and removed his shoes before crawling up the bed to join her.

“Is this one of Nesta’s?” He asked, wrapping an arm over her shoulders and plucking the novel from her hands.

“Yes, but it’s one of the…tamer romances.”

“No smut?” He laughed.

“I wouldn’t have offered to read aloud if there was,” She settled into his side, her injured leg back on its pillow. He opened the book and she directed him to the page where she left off. After she quickly summarized the preceding events in the book, Lucien began to read.

**********************************************************************

Your fingers traced along the endless row of leather encased book spines. Every now and then the smooth texture was interrupted by the cold bite of metal hinges or raised and pressed lettering. The gold and bronze titles, those that were still visible anyway, blurred as your eyes scanned over them. Pausing your search, you tilted your head back into an upright position and rubbed your eyes trying to bring them back into focus. In the opposite row, Nesta was re-shelving one of the many tombs that Gwyn had picked out. The Priestess currently sat at a table between the rows, scanning over another book. Elegantly long fingers gloved in white gently turned the oversized pages. Every afternoon for the past six months the pair had assisted you with searching the large library underneath the House of Wind for any information that could result in your ticket back home.

It was difficult to believe that you had been in the Night Court for so long already, damn near 8 months. Each morning you opened your eyes you were greeted with the sight of the pale walls of your room in the town house. The familiar sight of pictures of friends and family that covered your bedroom back home where nowhere to been seen. Their absence reminding you of the life you would lose if you failed to return. The scrapes of your hope for returning home were slowly slipping away. Yet you remained determined to find some way back. If not for yourself, then for those that loved and relied on you.

With the hundreds of thousands of books within the library there had to be at least one that could shed some light onto your situation. There had to be some documentation, anything at all, regarding the Fae that had gone missing from the continent all those millennia ago. You had come to the conclusion that this group must have traveled to your world. Or at least traveled somewhere that could then lead you to your world. There was no other reasonable explanation for how you could have found yourself in this one. Especially if Ruhn’s suggestion of your distant relation to them was true. If you had to be honest, you weren’t sure you would ever believe that, not without some type of blood test anyway. A groan from Gwyn brought you out of your rumination.

“That’s it!” She declared while slamming the ancient text shut. “We’ve looked at nearly every book in this damned place and found nothing.” You stared at the stack of books laid out next to the female.

“If we had a better idea of what we were even looking for…” Nesta’s voice trailed off. Sun lit dust particles danced around her finger tips as they strummed against the table. You sucked in a breath.

“At this rate anything regarding the history of Prythian could be useful,” You couldn’t afford to lose hope. “ So, what options do we have?” Nesta returned to the table and exchanged a look with her friend.

“There are other libraries,” Gwyn stated simply. “But…the High Lord will need to make the request for an emissary to visit.” Nesta scoffed.

“Which he won’t do without some serious convincing,” She crossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling.

“Then I’ll convince him,” You had to remain hopeful, “He’ll have to agree that looking outside the Night Court is necessary if we’ve exhausted the resources here. Where are these libraries?”

“Each of the Courts have their own set of libraries,” Gwyn offered. “If you are to start looking into the general history of Prythian then the Day Court would be the best starting point. There are near 1000 in that Court alone, and…” She trailed off at the look Nesta gave the two of you.

“No.” Her voice was stern.

“What do you mean, ‘No’?” You challenged. “Rhysand has to understand-”

“It’s not just him. It’s highly unlikely that the other High Lords would allow free reign of their resources to anyone from the Night Court,” She explained, “Not without giving them a reason as to why it would be of benefit to them. Rhys still believes that knowledge of your and Bryce’s existence does not benefit anyone and would only place the Night Court at risk.” You rolled your eyes.

“Of course, how could I forget?” It was no secret that Rhysand still didn’t trust you. It didn’t matter that everyone else in his precious inner circle could see that you were of no threat. You and Feyre surly thought that he would have come around when Amren surprisingly gave her seal of approval. It took two months before the petite female had even been willing to give you the time of day. Once she realized that you truly were stuck here she insisted on her own set of tests for magical abilities or reactions. When you couldn’t produce any of the results she suspected you should have been capable of, if you were indeed a spy or other type of threat, she finally backed off. Mor had liked you almost instantly after watching your interactions with Nyx.

“I admit that I can see how the knowledge of me being from another world is the equivalent of opening Pandora’s box,” You laughed. “But the other courts don’t have to know that little tidbit, right? We can just come up with some other reasoning. You know, some bullshit about building relations with mortals. I’m certain that Rhys and Lucien could spin something like that.”

“There’s really only one way to find out,” Gwyn mused. Nesta let out a long breath.

***

“Absolutely not,” Rhysand didn’t even bother to look up at either you or Nesta.

“Why not?” You asked incredulously. “We’ve exhausted the resources available in the Night Court. You won’t let me go to the Prison or the tunnels with Bryce to see what I might be able to decipher from the images. So, if you’re going to continue to insist that I find a way home, I need access to more information. Information that is now beyond your borders.”

“Then consider yourself relieved of the task,” His eyes still didn’t look up from the parchment he was scribbling on.

“What?”

“You’re done with research,” He finally looked up, eyes cold. “You can go now.” Rhysand gestured towards the office door and resumed his scribbling. You blinked several times trying to process what just happened. To say you were baffled by his decision to just have you give up was an understatement. It made no sense. He had insisted for months that you do everything in your power to find a way home. He made you dedicate hours every afternoon while Nyx slept to the task. He didn’t want you here. He didn’t trust you. Was it really so hard for him to let go of that fucking need to control you that he’d rather you remain stranded on this planet than let you leave the court to find a way home? Clearly it was.

“No.” You felt Nesta tense at your side. The male sitting before you glanced up through thick lashes. An eyebrow raised as he paused his work yet again. You didn’t care that he could easily over power you. Easily kill you with a mere thought. You weren’t about to continue being this weak and timid thing. He may be used to the other females in his life buckling under the weight of that stare, but it would be a cold day in Hell before you gave him that satisfaction. You wanted to go home just as much as he wanted you gone.

“I don’t see a reason as to why I can’t continue searching for a way home,” You took a steadying breath. “The High Lord of the Day Court doesn’t need to know who I really am or where I’m from. He doesn’t need to know the true purpose of what I am looking for. Honestly at this point I might get more insight into travel between worlds by looking into the history of this one.” The High Lord remained silent, so you took that as a cue to continue pleading your case.

“That’s the story we tell him. I’m merely looking into the history of the various courts to compile a comprehensive history of Prythian. If that hasn’t already been done that is. I can dress up like a Priestess, or Lucien can glamor me so I don’t look human. And I know that he will go with me if I ask.”

“Helion would be able to see through any ruse, which is exactly why I will not grant you permission to leave,” The calmness with which this discussion had started was quickly fading. His arrogance and lack of confidence in you made your blood boil.

“You cannot keep me locked away in this city!” You squared your shoulders.

“Yes, I can!” Rhysand bellowed. “I will remind you that your ability to remain in Velaris is due to the love that my son has for you.”

“Believe me, I am perfectly aware of the fact that my freedom is an illusion,” You seethed. “And it isn’t right. What kind of example are you setting for your son? He will pick up on the way that you treat me, as well as the other females in his life, and that will be his template for how he will treat them in turn. Tell me, do you want him to grow and be known as male that has genuine respect for females? To be known for treating them well beyond just common decency? Do you want him to build this court up as a safe place for women to live the lives they choose? To carry on a legacy of Velaris being a city that all can aspire to? Or do you want him to continue this farce of what you spout as being a progressive court but continue to belittle, undermine, and covertly fuel misogyny?” You felt a power ripple through the air. The edges of the High Lord’s figure darkened. You definitely hit a nerve and had to fight back the triumphant smirk.

“You despise me, so why are you so fucking hell bent on keeping me here? Wouldn’t you and everyone else be happier if I was gone?” The power that had been growing sputtered. The silence that replaced it filled the office, setting your already frayed nerves on edge. Nesta placed her hand in yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I do not despise you (Y/N),” Rhysand let out a heavy sigh. “And given the fact you believed that to be true, I must apologize. Genuinely apologize.” You stood in front of the High Lord, not quite sure if what he had to say next would truly be as genuine as was merited. The male stood from his chair, walking around his desk to stand in front of you.

“While it is really no excuse, I have let my fear of the unknown dictate my interactions with you,” He explained. You bit back the sarcastic remark that threated that danced on your tongue. His unequal treatment towards you was obvious to anyone present when you and Rhysand occupied the same room.

“However, you-”

“Ah! Do not turn this around and make your actions and reactions my responsibility,” You warned. The male simply smirked and nodded.

“The mistrust goes both ways, and yours is highly understandable given how I treated you upon your arrival,” He leaned against the desk, “Give me time and let me make it up to you. I will make more of an effort to get to know who you are. From there we can discuss if, or when and how, to move forward with you leaving the borders of the Night Court.” You held his gaze, weighing his words. You didn’t miss the fact that there was no promise that he would ever actually allow you to leave. Nor did he give any indication of timeframe for when this future discussion would take place. But for now, this concession would have to suffice.

“So, with the research on a temporary hold,” You needed some direction, “What else will you have me do exactly? Feyre has a solid early morning routine with Nyx and-”

“You will start early morning training with the Valkyries,” The High Lord smiled as your eyes went wide, “Feyre will be taking on more responsibilities as High Lady. Primarily she will become responsible for ensure that Velaris operates smoothly so that I can focus on finally enacting the overdue changes in Illyria and the Hewn City. After all, this is a progressive court. With both of us busy, you will need to learn how to not only defend yourself as a human in the Fae lands, but also how to protect my son. Afterall, you will be with him more often than anyone else.” You groaned internally. You were not a morning nor an exercise person, and combining the two…gross. You turned towards Nesta, who appeared to be just as surprised as you with the High Lord’s declaration. However, she quickly schooled her features into an unreadable expression. Rhysand then retreated to his chair, a clear dismissal and one that you were more willing to accept. You had just made it to the doorframe when he called out.

“Oh, in the spirit of building trust, Azriel will be the one to fly you to and from the House of Wind for your training.” You stumbled at his second declaration and glanced over your shoulder, however, you stayed silent. While there had been tension from the mutual distrust between yourself and Rhys, you struggled significantly whenever the Shadowsinger was present. Therefore, it made sense to give this task to Azriel.

“You don’t have to talk to him, but being near him is a necessary step in your healing,” He continued. “Even you have to admit that.” You hated that he wasn’t wrong.

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You trudged down the steps from the top floor of the town house as you did each morning for the past four months. Each morning was just as much of a struggle as the day before. You really were not a morning person. Just like every morning, Lucien had left the simple breakfast he prepared for you both in the oven to keep warm. He was an early riser, which worked in his favor as it meant that he could avoid the male that was the bane of your existence. Although, you had to admit that that line of thinking was a bit harsh regarding Azriel. Your interactions with the hazel eyed male had been slowly, albeit excruciatingly, improving. You didn’t share more words than was absolutely necessary, but you also didn’t leave the room or run away whenever he entered.

You took the scrambled eggs out of the oven, not even bothering to get a clean plate or even move to the table. Instead you just slowly shoveled them into your mouth as you leaned against the counter top. An unpleasant shiver ran up your leg. You didn’t have to look to confirm that the sensation was brought on by one of Azriel’s shadows. A silent “hurry up”. With tensed muscles you finished your eggs and placed the skillet in the wash basin. Plucking an apple from the bowl on the center island, you headed for the front door.

“You’re late,” Azriel stated, yet there was no real irritation to his voice. You tossed the apple into the air trying to shake away the unease that his shadows still elicited whenever they touched you. The sun was just peaking up over the eastern horizon, the early rays of dawn told you that you were right on time.

“Yet it’s the same time as every other morning amigo,” You took a bite of the apple, juice dribbling on to your chin. Rotating the apple in your palm you offered the opposite side for the male to take a bite. You had been prepared for his usual refusal; however, your regular morning routine was about to take an unexpected turn. You watched in slow motion as Azriel’s scarred hand gently covered yours before he brought the apple closer to his lips. You held your breath as his eyes bore into yours, his teeth sinking into the bright red flesh of the fruit. After taking a sizable chunk he released your hand and the world sped back up. It took an additional 30 seconds for your brain to catch up.

“Az!” You tried to fight the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Did you have to make it that creepy?” The male merely shrugged in response and took a step closer before wrapping his arms around you. You stepped into the embrace, bringing your own arms around the top of his shoulders. You were always mindful of his wings, making sure as to not brush against them while still maintaining a secure grip. Not that his hold on you ever faltered. Honestly, it was a miracle-in your opinion-that he was able to fly while carrying you at all. He had assured you early on that your weight was a non-issue, but that didn’t prevent the thoughts from springing to your mind every time you had to do this.

“Come on Koala, you know the drill,” He smiled as he tapped your thigh. You rolled your eyes. Jumping as instructed you allowed him to wrap your legs around his waist, just as you had that very first day of flying. You hadn’t meant to cling to him so fiercely at that time, yet it was the only position in which you felt secure. With his arms supporting your lower back, he shot up into the sky.

Barely even 10 minutes later and you were set down in the training ring at the House of Wind.

“I’ll be back in couple hours,” and with that your personal jetpack flew back towards the expanse of mountains along the northern edge of the city. You took another bite of the apple that you thankfully managed to hold on to before it was plucked from your hands. You spun around to face the asshole of a General that had taken it from you.

“You’re late,” He smirked.

“Like Hell I am,” You glanced around the training area. So far it was just you and Cassian. Not even Lucien was present. You scowled to yourself as he claimed he would be. However, you didn’t have time to wonder where he was when a set of arms wrapped around your shoulders, pining your arms to your sides. Your newly ingrained instincts kicked in. Planting your feet as best you could you reared your head back, hoping to make contact with the face behind you. Whoever it was ducked and grabbed the high pony tail that held your hair out of your eyes. The grip was tight and you immediately regretted your actions.

“Fuck!” You hissed, reaching up to try and pry the fingers away. You found the assailants wrist and dug your nails along the tendon, effectively forcing them to loosen their grip. Ruhn howled.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” You punched his chest as he danced away from you. “Are we five-year-old’s on a playground again? When did you get back from Midgard?” The asshole just laughed.

“A few hours ago, Bryce and Hunt are still sleeping. And I would say I’m sorry, but I was instructed to not be gentle with you today,” His smile was near feral. You ignored him and grumbled to yourself as you pulled the elastic hair band out. Bending over you let your now long hair cascade towards the ground. Concentrating on gathering the (h/c) strands at the crown of your head, you didn’t see the male shamelessly staring at your ass in the training leathers you were provided.

“Ruhn’s going to be to be your sparing partner today,” Cassian informed. “Let’s get you warmed up.” You flipped your hair up and secured it back in place in a messy bun.

“Your ass is grass Danaan,” You threatened, a playful smile on your own lips. “You fucked with my hair.”

“Baby, I could have sworn you enjoyed it before,” His blue eyes sparkled with mirth in the early morning sun.

“What?! No!” You looked over at Cassian, his eye brows raised. “No! Shut up asshole.” You hadn’t even started your training and you already knew this was going to be a long morning.

“Save it for the ring,” the General motioned for you to approach him so he could assist you with the warm up. As you completed your warm up routine you heard Lucien’s rough morning voice strike up a conversation with Ruhn.

“I hear your already causing trouble,” He nagged.

“Oh no, no no no,” You waggled your index finger, marching over the redhead. “These two motherfuckers started it.” You pointed at each of the males as they tried, Ruhn failing, to suppress their laughter. Yes, it was definitely going to be one of those mornings were the males all ganged up on you before the other females arrived. And not in the fun way. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop that train of thought. The last you needed was for one of them to smell that on you. Lucien just joined in on the laughter.

“Okay settle down now,” Cassian tried to regain some semblance of control. “Square up.” You walked towards the center of the training ring and planted your feet, flexing your toes to grip the ground as best you could through your shoes. The match with Ruhn started off simple enough. You had managed to dodge his attempts to get a hold of you, and he blocked all of your attempts to strike him with your fist. It was when you miscalculated the distance between your shin and his torso that was your undoing. You swung your leg up and towards his side, but he caught it and used the momentum to pull you towards him. As soon as your chests collided you shrieked.

“No!” You couldn’t suppress the giggle. Grabbing the large hands that had danced over your ribs, you easily pushed yourself away from Ruhn.

“Aw you’re ticklish,” Ruhn teased. You increased the distance between the two of you by several paces.

“If you tickle me, I will kill you,” You knew that was a lie made from false bravado. You’d never be able to get the best of any of the males here, not while you were human. It didn’t help that you could barely keep the laugh out of your voice.

“Alright tough girl,” He smiled and resumed his stance, “Come and get me.” Before you could react, the male had darted across the training ring and picked you up as if you still didn’t weigh more than him. You had to give yourself some credit though; after all you had lost a bit of weight since your arrival over a year ago. Most of it was within the last 4 months when you started this damn training. While your current performance was not a good indicator, the training had been useful. Not only had you picked up many skills with hand to hand self-defense, you were also learning how to properly use the dagger that Lucien had gifted you.

Ruhn hauled you over his shoulder like a giant sack causing you to scream again. You tried to push yourself up so you weren’t staring at his ass that was perfectly outlined in the damn leathers he wore. Unfortunately, there was nowhere except his ass for you to put your hands to get any leverage.

“Behind the knees!” You heard Lucien encourage Ruhn.

“TRAITOR!” You shouted, voice only slightly strained as you attempted to break free from Ruhn’s grip on your calves and hips.

“Thanks for the tip,” You felt his fingers lightly brush the back part of your thigh, just above the bend at your knee. You squealed and tried to squirm away with no luck.

“What about here,” Without warning, his hand traveled up the length of your thigh before giving a playful and quick squeeze to the spot just below the curve of your ass. A ridiculously comical high-pitched squeak escaped your throat. You clamped a hand over your mouth in embarrassment over sounding just like a damn dog toy.

“Was that her?” Cassian’s laughter filled the training area. Ruhn squeezed the spot again, and again you squeaked. All three males fell into a fit of boisterous laughter. You could feel the blood rushing to your head as you continued to hang over Ruhn’s shoulder. In a last-ditch effort to free yourself, you decided that you would just start attacking what you could reach. You balled your fist and reeled your arm back before slamming it down right on his own ass check.

“Hey!” Ruhn continued to laugh. You repeated the action, but it didn’t cause him to loosen his grip in the slightest. The other males just continued to laugh. Ruhn started to spin and you could see Cassian hunched over, bracing himself on his knees.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Nesta’s voice cut through the laughter, however, it didn’t die down.

“Would you look at that,” Bryce now beside her. “Ruhn’s finally getting his ass beat…literally.” You laughed at the comment, but seeing as how the male continued to tickle and tease, you decided to up your game. You raised your arm as before, but instead of your fist, your flattened out your hand. The loud smack reverberated off the stone surrounding the arena.

“Woah now!” Ruhn attempted to jump away. You smacked him again, pleased with yourself at his reaction. Using his hips for leverage you pushed yourself up to get a better look at those around you.

“Save it for the bedroom you two!” Bryce teased. Nesta scoffed.

“What!” You screeched. Ruhn and his sister just laughed harder. Cassian was in near hysterics. You couldn’t recall if you’d ever seen him laugh so hard. However, Lucien’s laughter had died down.

“Put her down, she’s not a toy,” Nesta instructed. “We need to borrow her before she has to meet my sister.” Ruhn slowly complied, strong calloused hands gripping your waist as he set you on your feet. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple before allowing you to saunter over to Nesta and Bryce.

“So whatcha need me for?” You pulled your hair free of the elastic band for a second time, the bun having already loosened. You carded your fingers through your hair before hastily pulling it back into a high pony tail. Bryce waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“An experiment.”

Part 7

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