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italeean · 3 years ago

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Still my little brother

Ikuya and Natsuya see each other after a long time, due to the latter's travels. The younger one, however, seems even more snarky than usual

NOTE: Hi everyone!! Sorry if I've been gone for a while (at least with the fics), I healed from covid, but I still needed to recover completely and get back on track with school, so I wasn’t exactly in the right mood to write. Back to the fic, anyway! It feels amazing to be able to write something again. I think that those brothers don't get enough attention, so I decided to write something on my own. I hope you enjoy!! Support and/or suggestions are always appreciated. Un grande abbraccio a tutti 💚🤍❤️ (A big hug to everyone)

DISCLAIMER: This is a tickle fic, if it's not to your taste I don't suggest you read it

‘SURPRISE!! Did someone miss... me...?’ Natsuya’s surprise didn’t exactly go as he expected... since the one who was supposed to be surprised was nowhere to be found. Then he remembered, Ikuya was at college and then he had training. Wow, had he really been away that much? Seeing the world, signing up for competitions to earn money and being free was awesome, but it had a big downside. He couldn’t even describe how much he missed his little brother.

Still, he was there right now, it wasn’t time to dwell on those feelings! Ikuya wasn’t home, so he had more than enough time to prepare an even bigger surprise. After setting his mind on making the sweetest of gestures for his brother, the brown-haired guy got dinner started and tidied up a bit around the house. Surely Ikuya would appreciate it, right?

It didn’t take much time for him to find out; he heard a jingling of keys and then the door opening. Obviously the teal-haired guy didn’t say anything when he came in, he didn’t know that someone would be in his house after all.

That day training had been exhausting, he was so drained that he didn’t realize that his apartment was more tidied than before, nor did he notice the smell of dinner. Natsuya fought the urge to laugh at his brother with all his might. How he could be such an airhead was beyond his mind. However, his train of thoughts was soon interrupted by a not-so-delicious smell, the one of something burning. ‘The food!’ he thought, and oh boy, he was right. Dinner was completely gone... maybe being an airhead was a family trait.

‘WHAT THE HELL?!’ Natsuya almost touched the ceiling when he heard his little brother yell. ‘Natsuya?? What are you doing here?!’ well... the shorter guy sounded almost... mad? ‘Ehmm... surprise?’ the older one said tentatively. That was already the second time that things didn’t go as he wanted, and in another occasion he would’ve laughed it off, but in that moment he could feel a glare burning through his skull. ‘If your surprise consisted in me finding my place reduced to a mess, you succeeded’ Ikuya said sarcastically. ‘Sorry hahaha... I wanted to make dinner and things got a bit out of hand. I’ll clean up, I promise’ Natsuya apologized. ‘Of course you will fix this chaos, and you won’t move from the kitchen until I find it decent enough. Understood?’ that question didn’t even need an answer. The taller guy put himself at work right away, and he would’ve felt a little guilty, if he hadn’t noticed a little smile on someone’s face.

He knew his little brother way too well to be deceived by his snarky behavior and sharp tongue. He knew he’d missed him, too, even if he would never admit that. Of course he would’ve had to work on that tough exterior, but if he wanted at least the slightest chance, he had to make that kitchen look brand new. Putting some effort into it, he managed to clean perfectly. Ikuya himself, who had ordered takeout in the meanwhile, found it spotless.

The two of them finally sat on the couch and ate dinner, and then they decided to watch a movie together. After a while Natsuya got bored and decided to proceed with his ‘make-Ikuya-open-up-plan’ as he’d decided. ‘So... how was practice today? Is your timing improving?’ he tried to ask. ‘Well, and yes, I’m doing well with my timing’ the shorter guy answered, as dismissive as always. However, the older one couldn’t be deterred that easily and kept asking question throughout the whole movie.

‘Did you make any new friends at college?’

‘Do you still hang out with that kid... Nanase, I think?’

‘Oh, and how’s Hiyori? Does he still manage to put up with you?’

‘Aaand, what about love interests? Did you find someone other than the swimming pool?’

‘OH COME ON, DO YOU EVER SHUT UP?!’ the younger sibling had officially reached his limit and, without thinking too much about it, he pushed the brown-haired guy off the couch, making him land on the carpeted floor with a thud. ‘Ouch! Did you really have to push me? I think I hurt my shoulder...’ ‘Serves you right for being annoying’ Ikuya replied, even if a little hesitation in his voice betrayed him and brought his worry to the surface, especially when he noticed that Natsuya was taking a bit too much to get up. ‘Whatever...’ he thought. He wasn’t that hurt, right?

What he ignored, was that his brother was perfectly fine and was just carrying out his ultimate plan. Currently, he was doing a countdown in his mind. ‘3... 2... and 1′ ‘Oi, are you really hurt?’ the teal-haired guy asked still trying to sound tough and uninterested (and utterly failing). The moment he decided to scoot closer, he made his biggest mistake: Natsuya grabbed his ankle and started scribbling all over his foot.

‘Wha- what a-are yohou dohohohoing hahahahah whahahahit’ as an older brother, Natsuya knew exactly how to make his sibling break. ‘I’m replacing your scowl with a big smile, silly! How do you think you’ll find someone if you scare everyone away with your demeanor?’ ‘Loohohook who’s tahahahahalking hahahahah’ that snarky remark was accompanied by a kick kindly delivered with his free foot. A move that backfired, since the older one snatched the other ankle, put them both in an armlock and started tickling both feet at once.

‘Hahahahahahah stahahahp you idiohohot ahahre youhu threhehehee??’ anyone would’ve stopped for real hearing the request, but years of experience had taught Natsuya how to recognize when Ikuya had really had enough. And right now? It was just the beginning. Being extra careful to not hurt him, he dragged him down from the couch and straddled him. Seeing him struggling, squirming and even giggling a bit in anticipation, with the faintest blush on his cheeks, surely brought him back. He knew that his brother wasn’t the best at expressing feelings, and his sass and snark were only his way to tell him ‘I missed you’. He was sure that he’d missed the days when they played together all the time, too, and who was he to deny him the joy of replaying that scene?

‘Me? Three? Are you calling me an immature?’ the taller guy said with a playfully mad tone. ‘Maybehehe... Ihihi meahahan... have yohou seen youhurself?’ ‘Oh you’re so asking for it now’ after saying that, Natsuya targeted Ikuya’s sides, squeezing and digging in the way he knew would elicit the best reactions. ‘Hahahahahahahah nohohoho nahahat theheherehehehe’ that spot was indeed pretty sensitive, but as a good older brother, the brown-eyed guy just couldn’t leave it immediately. ‘Why not there? Does it tickle too much? I’m glad to see you didn’t grow up that much... I was seriously worried, you know?’ he teased, while the poor guy was giggling histerically, kicking his feet on the floor and bucking his hips to make him fall (or at least try).

‘Oi, sit still, my mission to make your frown go away is serious, you know?’ the older swimmer teased, going from his sided to the stomach, scribbling, poking and even daring to dip and wiggle a finger in the belly button, a spot that always made him squeal. ‘Thihihis ihi- EEK! ihis ahahnythihing EEK! buhu- EEK! buhut seheheriouhus EEK! STAHAP IHIHIT BAHAKATSUYAHAHA’ uh oh. Now he really did it.

‘Bakatsuya, really? Is this how you repay me for my efforts, huh?’ Natsuya could’ve definitely won a prize for his dramatic act ‘You need to learn some manners... and I don’t think there’s another way to teach you...’ while he was scolding the shorter guy, his hands began to go up, spidering on his ribs, digging quickly into his underarms, fluttering softly on his neck, all the way to his-

‘Nahahahahahat thehehehrehehe’ Ikuya was already panicking ‘Ahahanywehere buhut theheheherehehe’ there was just one spot he couldn’t handle being tickled, and his brother exploited in the best worst way he could throughout the years. ‘Oh, I’m afraid it’s very much necessary... you should’ve thought about it before talking back to me with such rudeness’ the brown-haired guy replied, then he began wiggling his fingers close to his sibling’s ears, without actually touching them. However, even that gesture was enough for the latter to shake his head giggling because of the anticipation.

When he decided to be so kind to put him out of his misery and actually get his worst spot, a shriek and high-pitched, almost girlish, giggles filled the room. Natsuya couldn’t not laugh at the scene he’d seen so many times and never failed to make him smile fondly. ‘HAHAHAHAHA GOHOHO AWAHAHAYEHEHE NAHAHAHAHA’ the shorter guy was shaking his head left and right, exposing more a side when he tried to protect the other. The older brother was glad that he was still able to make him laugh and let himself go like when he was a kid, and he didn’t think it was time to stop yet. ‘But I like it here, I don’t want to... it’s not like you’re ticklish or something, right?’ ‘HAHAHAHAHAH YOHOHOU KNOHOW IHIHIHIT BAHAKAHAH’ as much as Ikuya could deny it, it was clear as day that he didn’t want him to stop.

‘Still with that nickname, huh? I don’t think you want me to go away’ the brown-haired guy began to lower his head, enjoying the renewed look of dread in his brother’s eyes. ‘NOHOHO DOHOHOHOHON’T YOUHU DAHAHAHREHE- EHEHEK!!’ the teal-haired squealed even higher when the taller guy moved a hand to keep his head still and started blowing delicately into his ear, it was something he’d never been able to handle. ‘Are you sorry yet?’ Natsuya kindly whispered directly in the poor swimmer’s ear. ‘EHEHEHEK!! YEHEHEHEHES IHIHIHI’M SOHOHOHORRYHEHEHE JUHIST STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHAHAHSEHE’ surprisingly enough, Natsuya’s cue to stop was him saying ‘please’ (because he knew Ikuya would never do that in normal circumstances), so he stopped.

He helped his brother up and they both sat on the couch again, since he knew that tickles always tired the teal-haired guy out. ‘That was the dumbest thing ever’ the shorter guy said with a fake annoyed tone, absolutely without a smile plastered all over his face that betrayed him. ‘Yeah, sure... I’m so mean and dumb... wanna come closer?’ he asked, opening his arms as a sign of invitation. Ikuya groaned and scooted closer saying ‘Fine, if you want to hug me that much...’

The older brother was this close to succeed in his mission, he needed just a bit more patience. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gently rubbed his back with the other one, making him relax. When his younger brother was almost asleep, Natsuya asked again ‘So... did you miss me?’ then he heard a light mumble ‘Of course, stupid. You should know it already’

‘Mission accomplished’ he thought when he felt Ikuya clinging tighter onto him. He didn’t know why, but when he was sleepy, his little brother tended to show his soft side more easily. Actually, he didn’t even bother to think about him too much; his priority was to take a certain someone to bed and tuck him in, so he got up with Ikuya still attached to him and headed to the bedroom, where he softly laid him on the bed, got in himself and pulled the blanket on both of them.

‘I missed you too, dummy’ he thought before joining his little brother into dreamland.

#free iwatobi swim club #natsuya kirishima #ler!natsuya #ikuya kirishima #ticklish!ikuya #lee!ikuya #tickle fic #tickle #kinda self indulgent ig #bc i totally don't miss that brat of my little sister

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primrose-path-of-dalliance · 4 years ago

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@trueblue-escapist this one got long! :) (edit: now on ao3)

It was by sheer fortune that the message arrived while he was dining at Beau and Yasha's home.

They were trying some of the latter's experimental recipes. Fortunately Yasha had progressed very well in the last several months; this was now the fourth meal Caleb had been over for since Beau declared her love's attempts at Empire foods to be reliably nonpoisonous.

He was comfortable, speculating with Beau over her recent visit to Shattengrod. So when Jester began speaking in his head, he almost dropped his fork.

With strained panting—"Caleb, we need some help."

Caleb’s thoughts immediately went to static. He held up a hand as her voice continued, eyes wide, and both Beau and Yasha fell quiet with concern.

"There’s a lot of fishy people and I have, um. One diamond. We’re on the ship. Hope you aren’t busy—"

Abrupt cut-off. No continuation. He shot a look across the table to the other two, and they seemed to instantly read the tension on his face for what it was. They darted from their seats as he replied, "I am with Beau and Yasha. Hang in there, please. We’re coming."

"Sword?" called Yasha from another room.

"Sword. Beau," Caleb shouted, his adrenaline spiking with every second they were still here, "diamonds?"

"One," came her terse response. "I got it."

He stood up. The chair legs screeched against Beau and Yasha’s nice hardwood. Dug a hand through his hair and pulled half of it out of the tie.

Next he slapped his hands together. A strand of amber formed from his pinched thumbs and middle fingers as he drew them apart. Gods, his trembling hands shook the arcane thread. Ten seconds since Jester’s message.

"Essek," Caleb said to the thread, which vibrated with each word. "If you aren’t busy and have the spells. Retrieve Caduceus if you could and bring him to the Nein Heroez. It’s urgent. And diamonds," he added hastily. The thread dissipated.

Yasha and Beau emerged together from the hall with weapons in hand as the reply came: "I will contact Caduceus, then, and keep you updated. Hopefully I can be of aid. Stay safe, Caleb."

Caleb closed his eyes for a single breath and tried to absorb Essek’s soft, controlled caution.

They were coming. They would be okay.

Without needing to look, he held his hands to Yasha and Beau. "Uk’otoa is being an exceptional nuisance."

Beau scowled and said, "I fucking told Fjord to do something with that ball"—and they were off.

***

Jester woke up to what felt like a giant spike piercing through her head, or maybe a handaxe being sunk into her skull—but if it kept going forever instead of happening in an instant. Her stomach felt like a tiny pool of boiling acid that the ship kept rocking back and forth.

She moaned, curling up harder and pressing the heels of her hands to her temples. It didn’t really help, but the pulsing pain eased a little over some time.

"Arty?" she eventually managed.

"I’m so sorry, my dear," murmured his low voice by her ear. "I came as quickly as I could."

"It’s okay. Water?"

She felt a small weasel tongue lick her cheek, then retreat.

After about a minute of measured, careful breathing through the migraine, Jester heard a door crack open and winced from the brighter light now shining in from the hallway.

"Sorry," whispered a familiar voice, and Jester might have started crying at the sound of his Zemnian accent if she wasn’t already teary-eyed from pain.

The door closed, dimming the room again to its singular lantern.

She did her best to uncurl as Caleb set down a bowl and cup on the small table nearby and brought over a chair to her bedside. He reached for his neck, too, and a crimson weasel slipped into his hands.

"Thanks," she said as he returned Sprinkle to her shoulder.

"Of course. Would you like help sitting up?"

"Please."

She had to rest her head on Caleb’s shoulder for a minute when sitting up gave her a rush of a dizzy spell. His hand had rubbed up and down her arm. He smelled like sweat and fish guts and leather.

Eventually Jester had her back against the wall and the cup of water in her hands as she took a careful sip.

"Everyone’s alright," began Caleb, voice still hushed in consideration of her headache. "We took care of them all shortly after you went down, and Fjord was able to heal you a little bit. Essek arrived with Caduceus not long after."

"That’s good."

She closed her eyes and sipped more water. The warm weight of Sprinkle was draped around her neck.

Gods. Jester loved her friends so much.

"Where is everyone? Where’s Fjord?" she asked.

"Out on the deck cleaning up and figuring out what to do next," came the wry response. "Beau gave Fjord a piece of her mind about that orb. Caduceus suggested to try hiding it in the Happy Fun Ball."

"Aw, man. That’s a really good idea."

"Ja. So we are figuring out who will take it in there and where to put it."

She nodded sluggishly, eyes still closed.

"I’m sorry," said Caleb after a long moment. "Do you want to sleep?"

"No. I'm just tired."

That last word came out with a bit more... a bit more than Jester had intended to say it with. She chewed the inside of her cheek and took a sip of water.

She could feel Caleb's gaze on her. "Is it something you would like to talk about?"

The headache continued to pulse in her temples. She stared down into her cup, at the water sloshing side to side from the rocking of the ship. "If you guys are going to Yussa's later, I want to come with. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Mama."

"Of course."

Jester breathed in and out and continued, "It's been a year and I think I'm sick of sailing."

"Ah."

"I mean, there's been so many cool things. The Lucidian Ocean is huge. One time we saw a sea horse that was big enough to ride on. And the port cities we've visited have all been beautiful. But most of the time it's just this boat. And less Arty. And Uk'otoa attacking us for the cloven crystal. I can't even prank people whenever I get bored because it's all the same people, and it's way less fun to keep pranking the same people over and over again."

Caleb made a considering noise. She sipped water, chewing the inside of her cheek some more.

Slowly he asked, "Are you... thinking of staying with your mother for a while?"

"Maybe."

Peaceful silence. They listened to the sounds of wood creaking and the ocean undulating. Jester felt the shittiness of her body continue to ease, and she set down the water to take a sniff at the bowl instead. Some stew, still warm.

As she had a cautious taste, Caleb said, "Hey."

She brought down the bowl and looked at him.

"Would you like to see something cool?"

"Of course I would like to see something cool, Caleb."

His smile as she sat up with anticipation and set down the bowl was very welcome—and a pretty cool sight already. But she watched him pull out a piece of wool and rub it between two fingers, and all of a sudden there was a cat in his lap and another cat on his shoulders.

Jester gasped, hands flying to her face. "Are those your cats?"

The smile on his face only got bigger and warmer as he looked down at the illusory one in his lap cleaning its brown-and-white face. "Yes. This one is Gretel, she is still somewhat a kitten. The other one is Mac, which is short for mackerel because he was eating one from a rubbish heap when I found him."

"Oh my god, Caleb, that’s so adorable." She beamed and leaned in to wiggle her fingers at illusion-Gretel, cooing without caring that it wasn’t the real cat.

He rubbed the wool in his hand and illusion-Gretel began to purr loudly.

She could feel the dimples in her cheeks from grinning. "I love them."

"They will both be very glad to hear that and will eagerly exploit your love to make you spoil them."

"Well, of course I’ll spoil them, they’re so perfect."

Caleb’s smile eased into something soft. "Would you like to meet them in person, then? Before you return to the Nein Heroez?"

The excitement welling up inside Jester faltered.

Oh, right.

She twisted her fingers together, fixing her gaze on the blood crusted in the space between them and beneath her nails. "Um. Yeah, I would love to, Caleb. But probably I'm not going to come back here."

No response except a careful inhale.

She picked at a bloodied crease in her palm and continued, "Fjord and I talked a couple weeks ago. It wasn't like an argument or anything, don't worry! We're one hundred and ten per cent still best friends who love each other and everything, you know? But he loves being captain of the Nein Heroez and doesn't really plan on stopping anytime soon. Or doing anything else. And I want to do more. The world's so big, and there's like a dozen other planes I could see, Arty promised he'd show me around the Feywild—"

Caleb's long-fingered hand placed itself on top of her fidgeting ones, and Jester's rambling mouth fell silent. The illusory cats were gone.

"It's fine, Jester," he said. She looked up at his furrowed brow and crooked smile. "I understand."

Deep breath in and out. Jester returned a similar smile. "Yeah."

Seeming reassured, he leaned back in his chair and seemed to look off elsewhere, his brow still furrowed in thought.

In the lull, she took up the bowl of stew again with more relish. The weight of the news she'd been ignoring had lifted from her shoulders, and with it some of her worries. She hadn't known how people would react. The more reasonable voice in her mind figured that everyone would take the relationship change with ease, reminding her of Yasha's advice in Eiselcross a year ago. The louder, more anxious voice had stressed over whether any of them might judge her for being a bad girlfriend.

Apropos of nothing, gaze still a little distant, Caleb said, "Essek and I are in a relationship."

Halfway through a sip of the stew, Jester's mouth fell open. "Really?"

His lips twitched at the squeal in her voice. "Ja."

She smiled, said, "Aw, I'm happy for you two," and returned to her stew to try and stamp down the sudden, strange sense of instability overtaking her. Like her heart found itself stuck in the second between missing the next step down the stairs and falling.

"Thank you. I am telling you this, though, because Essek and I have had... somewhat of a similar conversation." His eyes flickered to meet her startled gaze briefly, and she saw a bittersweet wryness in them. "Neither of us expect the other to be, well. Committed. My whole self, more or less, is dedicated to my home. I want to make it a better place. Essek has very different goals in mind for his future. We love each other, but between my life and his constant vagrancy, it would be unfair to expect us to stay the same. And, you know. I don't have as much time as he does, anyway."

Jester had the bowl of stew in her lap now, unable to stop staring at Caleb. He finally seemed to notice her attention and awkwardly fixed his eyes on a spot of the wall somewhere to her right and up.

In her chest, time started again. Jester's heart safely found the next step instead of taking a tumble down the stairs.

"Thank you, Caleb," she said softly.

He returned to looking at her properly, and the renewed warmth in his expression helped resettle Jester's sense of the world even further. "I'm sure your mother could be much more reassuring."

"Maybe, but it's you."

Caleb went a little pink. The flush was still visible to Jester's eyes in the dim room. Thank the gods that the warmth in her own cheeks would be much harder for him to notice.

That was enough conversation for her at the moment. She shoved the bowl of stew back against her mouth.

(send me a brief widojest prompt!)

#cr #cr fanfiction #widojest #caleb widogast #jester lavorre #the mighty nein #mentions of shad*wg*st and f/j #prim writes #prim post #trueblue-escapist #readmore

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marvelous-space-nerd · 4 years ago

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My dearest Bee

Hi dear tumblr people! I wrote a thing and I quite like it,,

Summary: Time travel, is, well something. Who would've thought that you would get stuck in the 1800's?? Well here you are, part of the Van der Linde gang, ready to face the past.

First chapter can be read as a stand alone chapter. It takes place a few years after Isaac died. The relationship between the reader and Arthur is platonic. Enjoy!!

ao3

My dearest Bee,

So I hope these letters- I can’t call them letters if they’re in a book right?- Anyways, I hope these will find you, I hope you’re home, safe. I hope you saw your dog again, I miss her. I have a horse now though! Maybe I’ll name her after you, or just wasp. If I remember correctly you weren’t the biggest fan of wasps. But really, I’m not sure if we timetraveld or were transported to another universe where everything just started like 100 years later, the latter case making it a whole lot harder for you to find this. I just really hope you’ll find this against all odds, because I said I’d write to you if I made it. And I did! I guess. After the whole thing blew up some cowboys found me, I think they call themselves the Van der Linde gang? But yeah, they feed me and gave me a bed for the small price of doing some chores. I’d like to do more though, did you know that the 1800’s are really boring even though you can die at any second? It’s spicy but in the wrong way. I’d like you to know though that it’s not all bad here. People are lovely when they’re not trying to shoot you. You should see a campfire evening- hell any evening- here.

Yours always,

(Y/N)

“(Y/N) get off your lazy ass and do the chores we asked you to do!”

“Mister Morgan! No need to yell, I got it perfectly under control. I was just, taking a break, that's all. Everyone who works all day has the right to take a break.”

“Boy as much as we want it workers are exploited ‘till they fall to the ground face first. You however are not so-” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes before speaking agian. Softer this time than the louder tone he was using first. “get to work, please.”

“Fine fine, but-”

“There better leave something good out of that big mouth of yours.”

“Hey that's just rude! But I want one of you lot to teach me anything. I can’t even ride a horse for Christ's sake.”

“I still don’t get how you can’t kiddo.”

“I told you I lost my memory at the explosion, maybe I lost my skills too.” You said avoiding his piercing gaze. Nothing is better at covering up lies than staring at rocks being sad over the skills you’ve lost.

“And we all know about that blatant lie.” Fuck, maybe rocks aren’t good at covering up.

“It isn’t-”

“Boy I don’t give a damn, you could work on your handwriting though, you’re almost worse than John. But fine, when you’re done with your chores I'll teach you to ride.” He said, finally giving in.

“Yay!” You said while doing little hand clapping motion. “I won’t disappoint, I promise. I’m a fast learner!” You said with smiling eyes

“And how’d you find out you were a fast learner boy?” He spoke out as he raised his eyebrows, just enough for you to feel them piercing right through you, poking at all the holes in your lie. You thought you’d last at least a few months, well here you are, exactly one month deep in this shithole being caught red handed.

“Fuck” Is all you managed to cram out while your eyes lost all their focus. You being back in your own mind instead of the wild world.

It made the silence hard. The only sound that of the other gang members and the birds and the bees to give you something to focus on. It’s so hard out here, no amount of scouts will ever prepare one for the real wild.vIt’s much scarier out here. The real wild is the place where you die if you trip over the wrong rock. The scouts will make sure the rock isn’t even there. Every bird will just put down another rock and god I want the silence broken, just as broken as my lie is.

“I know there’s probably a reason you’re not telling us anything.” Athur said, as he moved closer, his eyes smaller. Like they could see right in his head “You can’t hide forever, not who you are.”

“...”

“Use your words boy”

“I’m sorry, Mister Morgan, I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You’ll figure it out, but first geT your ass back to woRK.” His voice became louder this time, I mean this was the third time he asked. He put his hand on your shoulder, shoving you away from your shared tent towards the hay bales you were supposed to move. A bit harder than anyone in the twenty-first century would’ve done, but for Arthur it was just a friendly push.

“I will, I will mister Morgan!” You said trying to act cheerful. Arthur made a “tsk” sound and waved you off, absolutely done, it seemed. You moved to the hay bales that were still in the wagon, ready to be fed to the horses.

The hay bales were heavy, yet they seemed lighter than they were a month ago. Your hands weren’t soft no more and being covered in dirt and dust wasn’t rare anymore. The luxuries that the modern world gave you disappeared the moment you decided that Bee was the one who should go home. One to run to the portal the moment it opens, one to pull the lever and jump through afterwards. Both of you knew that people don’t want you touching their stuff, let alone interdimensional portals or time machines. You knew someone would be quick to show up the moment you turned it on. It was surprising to see the portal become unstable, blinking in and out, in and out of existence. It left you with 2 choices. Option a: jump in it praying it would still transport you back home, back to all you knew not leaving you in the empty pocket of a closed portal. Or option b: run away for the inevitable explosion.

Gods you hated thinking about it. It played and twisted your mind. You couldn’t even talk about it, no accessible therapists in the wild west. And you’d prefer not to tell anyone you’re a helpless time traveler. Stuck in 1895 traveling with a gang of outlaws. A surely unique situation only you could get yourself in. You don’t even remember what you chose. You just remembered waking up surrounded by a bunch of cowboys.

“And how is our newest member doing?” The man's smooth and easy voice was easily recognizable. Dutch Van der Linde. Isn’t it ironic that he has a dutch surname and that his parents called him, well, Dutch. It’s a question that always on your mind, why his parents did that and if it’s iconic or just stupid. Dutch was one of the first people who introduced himself, right after Arthur- who was very inclined on being called Mister Morgan- and Hosea. The trio who showed you the wild west wasn’t all bad.

“Dutch! It is absolutely lovely to see you.” You said while putting the last hay bale down. A little bit of healthy sweat decorating your face. “I am doing absolutely great. Arthur- Mister Morgan is actually going to teach me how to ride a horse when I’m done.” You said while eyeing Arthur. Clearly not being amused with the situation. “Eh, he said yes, it’s his problem now.”

“I’m surprised you got through that thick skull of his!” He said with a smile, each word a little louder than the last. He clapped his hand on your shoulder as he let out a little chuckle.

“I think he likes me even though he won’t admit it actually.” You lied, confidence was half of the battle, as they say.

“I think I don’t you annoying little bastard.” Arthur said, joining the conversation. Dutch clearly talks loud enough to make sure any gossip subject will show up to the gossip. Definitely not the fact that you made eye contact with him “Now get to your horse before I change my mind.”

“Arthur! Oh shit- Mister Morgan! I’ll be there before they can even give me a speeding ticket” You said, maybe it was a bit too modern this time, but isn’t the wild west about living on the edge?

“You speak a strange version of english boy.” Arthur said. “You know how to saddle up a horse right?”

“Hosea taught me so I could help around with chores. And Wasp already had a saddle when we found her so I’m all good to go Mister Morgan!”

“Great, now go get her saddled up so we can go.” He said, motioning towards the horses.

“See you in a flash.” You said while snapping your fingers, forming finger guns to point back to Arthur. You dismissed the look of confusion on their faces, clearly not used to the finger gun motion. You walked off to Wasp and gave her a little pet and a snack. As you were putting her saddle on you overheard the rest of the conversation between Arthur and Dutch.

“We can both see you have a soft spot for the boy, Arthur.” Dutch said with a chuckle.

“And we both know youngins have great hearing and that he’s spying on our little conversation.” Arthur said in response, eyeing you. You kept saddling Wasp up as if you heard nothing. Let the deaf chicken inside of you arise and all. Hoping they’d say more.

“I know Arthur, I know.” Dutch said with a chuckle. About to walk away. “Oh before you go, he’s a kid Arthur, don’t be too hard on him and be carefull.” You didn’t think you were a kid, maybe not a full grown adult, but at least you were half an adult, no kid. But you weren’t going to say anything, you were eavesdropping after all. “He’s all yours, (Y/N)!” He yelled at you, before leaving for real. You turned around and gave him a smile and a quick wave. Arthur walked

“Take her by the reins, we're walking to an open spot first.”

“Shoar '' You said, absolutely trying to mimic the western accent you hear all around here. Apparently it was just bad enough to make Arthur chuckle.

“We’ll make a cowboy outta ya yet.”

Traveling in the wild was absolutely amazing for the most part. Abandoned camps are in fact disgusting. They leave their trash! And it’s not like they cleaned their cans so it smells. But besides that the mostly untouched nature was beautiful and the air was so clean. It all felt much more, how to put it, real. No factories everywhere, no house on every corner of the street, just, the world how mother nature intended it. It was peaceful. There was an open field about ten minutes walking from camp, and that’s where you arrived. Reins in hand.

“You ready to go (Y/N)?” Arthur asked. You put your hand on your hips looking at your horse with abosute pride and stupidity because how to fuck were you going to do this?

“Absolutely.” You said. “Remind me how do I get on again?”

The words were taken by the wind as they made room for silence. Arthur’s expression could be described as a mix between surprise, disbelief and the OhMyGodAreYouStupid emotion. Yet it all quickly made room for a smile, or a laugh. He could definitely be laughing at you.

“I didn’t expect to need to teach an 18 year old how to get on a damn horse.”

There was no fire behind the words, but as they say, fight (fake) fire with (fake) fire.

“And I didn’t expect to end up here for the life of so I did not think horse riding would be a viable skill to know. So get your pretty ass in the saddle so I can.. mimic you or something.” You said making a hand gesture at Arthur’s horse.

He gave you one more smile as he turned to his horse, getting on slower than usual. He got on on the right side of his horse so he put his right foot in the styrup. He lifted his body up effortlessly and as elegant as a western outlaw could get. And there he was, in the saddle, in full western glory.

“Looks easy enough.” You said, an absolute lie as it turned out. The stirrups were way higher than expected, and the getting on could be called anything but elegant or the cool western movies you saw. Turns out your own body is heavy and there’s quite a lot on a horse to get stuck behind. But you ended up in the saddle, full western glory.

The rest of the riding lesson went about the same. Arthur did something really cool looking and whenever you did it it felt like you were some old slime blob.

“Squeeze your lower legs to get her to move, (Y/N)!”

“I am this horse is just broken- OHMYGOD SHe’s moving!”

“Never blame the horse for the rider's lack of skill, boy. Now steering.”

He explained it all to you. How to properly hold the reins and how to use them, how to do it with one hand and how to do it with two. Western and English style he called it. He taught you how to move your horse around and what not to do. The one and most important thing being to have no doubts and no fear. The horse will sense it.

It felt odd at first, to have control over another living being. It wasn’t easy no, Arthur had to tell you how to correct your posture every 5 minutes. But after a while of correcting everything you started to get confident. It started getting easier to steer. Every muscle of yours was getting tired but it was so worth it. Maybe one day you’ll look like an actual movie star.

Once you got the basics down you could go a bit harder. From a walk to a trot, a canter and even a little gallop. And as the wind brushed over your face blowing your hair away, it felt like something the 21st century didn’t have a lot of. Galloping through the grass hearing every step as more and more grass was thrown into the air. Arthur still giving you instructions on what to watch out for, riding by your side in case of emergency. And the horse, Wasp, god she deserved a cooler name. Her big strong muscles moving beneath you, her breath as she was running, the heat radiating from her skin, gods it felt so great. No modern bike or car could ever top this feeling of freedom.

Cars and bikes could however top the feeling of falling off. You lost control quite a few times, losing balance, a rearing horse throwing you right where you belong. But nothing modern could beat that feeling of getting on again. Of it working when you tried it for a second time. Hell, maybe the third time. Arthur was there to make sure you were okay, and you could have another go. And another. And just one more for good measure. Lying on the ground trying to see if this time you did break something wasn’t a strange thing after today. Hell it happened at least every hour. But determining it as fine and getting on again, it felt like a lot.

You didn’t even realize it was getting late until the sky started turning orange. The normally so bright sun started becoming more yellow and stopped burning at your eyes. Instead it just seemed pretty. The clouds became yellow just like the sun, and the sky turned a bit darker with every passing minute. Yellow and orange were happy colours, maybe this was an good omen, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t think you’d die somewhere in a ditch. Bee would be proud to see you haven’t given up. You knew that for once.

“Time isn’t a real thing Mister Morgan, I swear.” You said looking at the sunset.

“Call me Arthur.” Said Arthur Morgan, though guy in the west in dire need of respect. Arthur “You call me mister Morgan boy” Morgan.

“Wait, did someone hide weed somewhere because this must be a hallucination! Can I really call you Arthur?”

“Wouldn't have said it otherwise boy.” He hissed, the mister Morgan just wouldn't leave Arthur.

“Well, Arthur, thank you. I’m happy I only have to say half the syllables now.”

“Shoar thing. Now let’s go back to camp before they send out a search party to see if you haven’t broken anything today.” He said jokingly

“I would never! I am obviously the best horse rider in the entire United states!” You said sarcastically, if you fake confidence long enough, it might become real.

Arthur laughed at that. “Well see about that boy. Now let’s go, we should be there soon considering you can ride now.”

“Of course, good plan. I can show off my skills now!”

“Shoar, go ahead boy. Don’t make your entrance too dramatic.”

“I will, I absolutely will. Oh and Arthur?”

“Hm?” He said, quite relaxed actually.

“Thank you, for everything today. I’m happy you let me bother you today.” You said with a proud smile.

“You’re welcome boy. Bother me all you want, we ain’t getting rid of you just yet.” He said as he ruffled your hair a bit. “Now let’s go home, I’m realll hungry.”

You absolutely couldn’t hide the smile on your face. “Hell yeah, I’m starving.” You said as you kicked the stirrups making Wasp move, you rode to camp in the beautiful orange sky. Maybe he did actually care about you, just a little.

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #BUT LIKE PLATONIC #Idk how else to tag it #sorry hehe #Van der linde gang #pre canon #fluff #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 3 years ago

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New story for The Forgotten Tales! @crunadh wanted some assassination attempt. Well, there are some in the story. Nevertheless – it is totally crack, at least I hope it is. I had a LOT of fun writing this. Art is by @misterstalker :)

Around 8800 words, I’d say T-M, no warnings.

Read under the cut or on A03.

There was hell to pay at the "Four Winds." Malicious tongues claimed that the tavern, which marked a major crossroads – the last bastion before the next town – should actually be called "Five Winds." For several months of the year, the place mainly catered to travelers. But at the end of summer, it was frequented by workers employed in the resident's Baron's cabbage fields. Once harvest had begun, however, there were so many dishes with cabbage at the "Four Winds" that the farts would have justified the name change.

That day the pub was packed. The Baron was of the rare species who actually paid on time and decently too, and so the taproom was filled to bursting. The ale was flowing in copious amounts, at least as long as the coin played along. To properly celebrate the day of payroll, which this time coincided with the end of the harvest, the forward-thinking innkeeper had hired a third-rate bard. The latter tried hard to set things moving with his ribald stanzas of a richly insulting ballad concerning Duchess Anna Henrietta. Still, he barely had enough power to drown out the roar of dozens of thirsty men, the crashing of filled clay jugs as they toasted – or the unmistakable sounds of that fifth wind. The scent lingered in the air, like the usual smell of cabbage and alcohol or not-so-discreet streams of vomit.

The few travelers who stopped here this late in the year were aware that the road to Nilfgaard was far, and alternatives were simply not available. They tried to blend in unobtrusively with the masses as they waited to resume their travel. Everyone, though, knew that the people's cheerful mood could change quickly once the coin pouches were empty. Two of these travelers, however, would not have appeared inconspicuous even with all their efforts. The most noticeable thing about them was that, while the tavern was already bursting at its seams, the nearest tables to their alcove were empty.

These two belonged to a species that as of late had become rare, and it seemed even rarer to both of them that their paths had crossed. And although they held very different views and values, it was perhaps the fact that there were so few of them left that had drawn them to each other. There was a reason why the rest of those present stayed away from them, why they preferred to expose themselves to the increasingly murky air and noise rather than go near them. It was undoubtedly due to the two swords they both carried on their backs.

They were witchers.

One of them wore a medallion visible on a chain in front of his chest; it showed a shiny, silver twisted snake. This particular witcher had only grinned when his recently acquired comrade had asked him his name, exposing disturbingly pointed teeth. As a result, the other had simply christened him Hans, a common enough name in the area. Hans was almost bald, possibly due to the nasty scar on his skull and ugly as a gnome. His shoulders seemed to burst out of his armor, but he gave the impression of being faster than his strangely angular figure would suggest. The other was a witcher of the school of the Cat, named Flynn, and he could not have presented a greater contrast. He was well-built, curly blond, and handsome – his pretty face was not adorned with even the smallest scar. However, in his case (besides the swords, of course), it was his eyes that made others give him a wide berth. Certainly, most witchers had those unnatural eyes, but his bore a luster that seemed not entirely of this world.

As the evening progressed, the barrels never ran out (because the host was, as mentioned, foresighted), but even witchers who can drink a Skelliger under the table get drunk. At some point, the moon had risen outside, and most of the workers had drunk themselves into oblivion; Hans pointed with a still surprisingly steady hand but a less firm voice to one of the support struts that were spread around the room.

"'S just a doppler; that's what he is," he claimed.

Now, it was true that Cat witchers were said to be a little crazy (though no one of sanity would have mentioned that in their presence). Still, Flynn believed that his current companion had lost his mind, just a little and probably due to overindulging in alcohol. He was not wrong, even if he was just as drunk as well. That's why it took him a moment to realize that Hans wasn't talking about the wooden column in the room but rather what was hanging from it. He had seen these notices several times along the way. Actually, he was surprised that it was still hanging from the beam that acted as a sort of message board, so full of papers on all four sides. The somewhat frayed parchment showed a portrait of the emperor and his husband, the official wedding portrait which had been distributed throughout the country.

"Nah, that's the White Wolf," Flynn objected.

"Yeah, sure, "Hans replied, slightly irritated, "but next to him, that's a doppler."

"That's the emperor, you dumbass."

"I'm telling you, it's a doppler, darn it."

Hans, who had shown no signs of nervousness so far, now seemed almost agitated. He was still pointing to the portrait that hung below a want ad for a missing boy and above the Baron's job ad for more harvesters, which was admittedly a bit dated now.

"'S logical," he asserted, almost argumentatively.

Flynn looked thoughtfully at the somewhat faded portrait.

"Geralt would have noticed that. He's a witcher, after all," he said reasonably.

"Ever caught a doppler before?"

"Sure," Flynn claimed, which really wasn't true.

Hans seemed to see through the flimsy lie easily. His almost non-existent eyebrows lifted, and he hiccupped nearly accusingly.

"He's cute," Flynn said suddenly.

"The emperor?" asked Hans incredulously.

"Bullshit, the whi... the wha... the wolf."

"Not my type," Hans returned gloomily. "Anyway, he's married to a doppler now."

"That's terrible. How do you know that?"

"We Vipers know these things," Hans boasted.

Beads of sweat stood on his forehead.

"Don't know nothing," Flynn muttered, shaking his head.

- - -

No doubt, Geralt mused as he walked down the palace's corridors, married life meant a lot of compromises. It wasn't as if he had any role models to look to for guidance. In any case, there were certain things he and Emhyr had agreed on. One of those: he did not get to wear his armor in the palace. In return, this meant the courtiers had to get used to the emperor's consort walking around in pants that certainly did not meet any Nilfgaardian fashion standard, combined with one of Emhyr's black shirts. Compromises… because apparently it was considered indecent to exercise in the garden with a naked upper body. If anyone in the palace didn't like his current outfit, the sight of the sword he swung loosely in his hand as he made his way to the gardens usually made them lower their eyes and keep their opinions to themselves. This was clearly an advantage of his new status.

Geralt's path led through a long portico that already offered a view of the gardens. They were not particularly impressive, as the greenery was laid out according to methodical rather than aesthetic aspects, as usual inside a castle's wall. But the gardens were, in any case, still empty at this early hour. Autumn had settled over the land, and the sun barely ventured through the gloomy clouds that would surely bring rain in an hour or two. Geralt's cursory glance, confirming that no one was roaming the gardens, was suddenly drawn to a grayish splash of color that stood out starkly against all the green. There was a paper hanging on one of the corridor columns, which was unusual enough, but his eyes narrowed when he realized what kind of note it was. Quickly Geralt stepped closer and tore it off. It was attached to the stone pillar with a drop of resin, leaving a small scrap behind.

If anyone had been hanging around at this early hour, the expression on the witcher's face would have driven them away immediately: a mixture of disbelief and anger, clearly visible in the eyes that were still causing plenty of unease in the palace. The somewhat faded notice showed his own face next to Emhyr's, an admittedly rather euphemistic drawn portrait (on both sides) that had been circulated for the wedding. Except that on this one, Emhyr's face was riddled with angry-looking charcoal strokes. And Geralt's visage was adorned by a small, somewhat crooked heart symbol. What the hell?

Basically, Geralt didn't care if someone made a joke at his expense. If he minded such things, he probably wouldn't have survived nearly a century. However, Emhyr would by no means see it so calmly; that much was certain. Under no circumstances was Emhyr allowed to get his hands on this somewhat misguided demonstration of affection. Because beneath his cool facade, despite everything, a very hot-blooded emotion was slumbering: passionate jealousy.

Admittedly, it was well known within Nilfgaard proper that Emhyr was quite the moderate ruler in many respects. This reputation was contrary to many rumors that the North had perpetuated through the years. But three things were absolutely non-negotiable, issues that represented dangerous terrain: politics, the cult of the Great Sun – and Geralt. Considering that these things essentially made up his life, it was often a little difficult for outsiders not to put their foot in their mouths. He could be quite diplomatic; however, heads could possibly roll if he found out about this insulting scrap of paper. Gossip in the palace had it that the emperor once locked up a woman in the dungeon for a week who had tried to remind Geralt all too eagerly of his past fondness of sorceresses. It wasn't true, but it wasn't entirely false either. In any case, Emhyr had his reasons for allowing certain gossip to circulate. Still, it was better Geralt took this matter into his own hands... He had to find the person who had started this nonsense and talk to them. With his fists, if need be.

- - -

"I don't feel well," Hans lamented.

"Drank too much?" Flynn returned innocently. He had his arms propped up on the sticky table, his head resting on his hands, regarding the other witcher at length.

"Tasted funny."

"Didn't stop you from dumping plenty in."

With a last bit of sanity, Hans (who in truth bore a different name he didn't remember right now and soon would never again remember anything) looked at the feline. The latter had torn the note with the wedding portrait from the wooden beam and now held it almost reverently in his hand. For some reason, this was like a trigger for Hans, and he stuck a now somewhat wobbly finger first into the already emptied mug, then into his mouth. Finally, he raised his brows incredulously at Flynn, who was still watching him patiently.

"You don't do that among brothers!"

"Brothers?" Flynn tilted his head, smiling. "That's like saying all pied pipers were brothers. Or all butchers."

"What?"

"Oh, don't worry about it."

"You poisoned me," Hans growled accusingly. "It should really be up to me. I'm the viper, aren't I?"

"I told you not to worry about it."

In fact, Hans didn't have to. His last gaze was a bit confused. Flynn quickly pushed the mug aside, Hans' head crashed onto the table, and that was that.

"Well," Flynn said, shrugging at the corpse, which would just look like another drunk for quite a while (at least until tomorrow morning, when the innkeeper would clean up). "You shouldn't have stared at the drawing like that. But thanks for telling me about the doppler."

The Cat witcher looked at the note in his hand with undisguised tenderness.

"Now, let's make sure you find about that too, handsome."

- - -

The first attempt of assassination was almost ridiculous – though the imperial taster probably saw it differently. Would have seen it differently if he had survived it, but he had either been too greedy or careless. However, this did not mean that the position of chief taster remained vacant for long – it was a post at the court that was also well paid (in which, incidentally, Nilfgaard's customs differed from those of other countries, who often kept slaves for this purpose). Or, as one of the applicants casually put it, "If I'm going to die, at least I ate well beforehand."

Nevertheless, a poisoned dish had not occurred at court for a long time because usually the effort wasn't worth it with all the almost paranoid precautions in the palace. Yet, this blatant and clumsy attempt to harm the emperor caused quite a stir. Emhyr, however, did not tolerate such unrest and went about his business as usual. Neither did he want to show any weakness, nor could he allow any imitators to be called on the scene.

The second time, everything looked like a coincidence, and Geralt counted the incident only in retrospect as what it had really been. They were both heading to the stables because it was something that kept Emhyr's head clear between his tasks – and Geralt's in a way, too. He still found it hard to spend das without a contract in a mad hive full of people, protocols, and ridiculous rules. Moreover, any sojourn outside the throne room was a welcome opportunity to hold each other's hands in public, and both enjoyed it with almost childlike glee. In this respect, the pretext of personally checking on the horses' welfare was just that – a smokescreen. Only this time, it ended surprisingly.

Above the entrance to the stables, a wide wooden gate set into a stone arch hung an oversized horseshoe made – of course – of gold. No, the cult of the Great Sun was definitely not free of superstition. Indeed, such superstitions were mainly found in the homes of ordinary people, who (according to the priests, for whom arrogance was virtually part of the job description) did not know how to practice a religion correctly without guidance. Emhyr was relatively ambivalent about the matter, which his own father had, after all, declared a state religion. But even he was not always entirely free of the misgivings that a childhood tainted by magic might inevitably bring. It was said that he himself had commissioned this ancient and universal symbol of good luck above the stables, which – should the talk ever get louder – he would, of course, deny with all his might.

However, there it hung, and its gold plating hid the fact that the horseshoe was made of solid iron underneath. It was huge, it was heavy, and it clearly had the potential to split heads, which almost happened when Emhyr and Geralt passed through the gate. For, strange coincidence or not, at that very moment, the horseshoe broke from its moorings. Geralt just managed to push Emhyr aside, thanks to the witcher's senses and speed. The horseshoe crashed to the ground; the turmoil was great, but the two lay there, looking at each other and smiling, one more, the other less openly.

All in all, they were still newlyweds who enjoyed every opportunity to lie together – even, a little oddly, this one. Even stranger was that, although the officer on duty wanted to initiate immediate investigations, Emhyr told all those present (soldiers, stable servants, and gawking courtiers) to leave immediately, close the doors, and give them both "an opportunity to process the commotion in peace." As a result, rumors spread in the palace that Geralt was excessively interested in riding, especially on special mounts. The talks were nipped in the bud, for the majority of courtiers pretended not to understand what was meant by it, out of sheer shamefacedness.

- - -

Following the trail of the cursed piece of paper proved to be far from easy. Whoever had posted this notice benefited from the fact that people were permanently strolling around in the gardens. Even if nobody did so this early in the morning, the trail was already cold when Geralt found the paper. Neither the parchment itself nor the hastily scribbled strokes on it told him anything. Even a child could have procured the necessary coal for this, and so Geralt was almost inclined to think that this was indeed the silly joke of a spoiled pupil of some court lady or nobleman.

At least until the second note showed up.

Fortunately, this time Geralt was alone on his way to the stables, as he was basically every day – because imperial consort or not, he insisted on taking care of Roach himself. Possibly there was a bit of a guilty conscience speaking out of him, which felt that the longer he was in the palace (and lately that was more and more often and for longer periods of time), the more his horse didn't have enough exercise. When he entered the stables that morning, a few days after finding that tainted note, his blood nearly froze right in front of Roach's box.

Another of the wedding announcements was attached to the gate of her stall. This one was more faded than the first, which Geralt had burned after a while of unsuccessful and discreet searching around. It had clearly been hanging outside for a long time but was still almost entirely intact except for a few torn areas. Even the writing was still legible, an announcement of the official imperial consort along with some embarrassing regulations regarding his salutation. But that alone would not have made Geralt's blood boil, although he really hated to look at that portrait anyway. He found he looked horribly overdrawn on it, and Emhyr was softened up to ridiculousness. Geralt also hated the fact that his title was on the announcement. While he was officially addressed as imperial consort, that was not a title, and allegedly there had been a need to be given one, against all his protests. If Lambert ever found out that Geralt was now an earl, the teasing would never stop.

However, the fact that this title was on the note in all ridiculousness was not the interesting part. For here, too, Emhyr's countenance was crossed out, and an even larger heart had been painted next to Geralt's portrait. Not only was this becoming absolutely silly, but it was starting to become dangerous as well. Geralt couldn't possibly risk this nonsense spreading. Someone would tell Emhyr about it (and Geralt didn't want to imagine that he would then have to explain that he already knew about it – and had kept it from his husband).

Moreover, the connection to recent incidents seemed abundantly clear to him. At first, the attempt to poison Emhyr had appeared like a single, regrettable affair, even if it was relatively difficult to cover up – after all, the job posting for a new taster could hardly be called discreet. Furthermore, it hadn't been the first attempt to harm Emhyr, it came with the position, so to speak, and he took it calmly. Geralt, however, had been surprised by the emerging feeling that – although all this was not new to him – since the wedding, he was much less relaxed at the thought that they lived dangerously.

He removed the note and convinced the stable master with Axii that there had never been a paper.

"There never was a note," the man repeated cheerfully. Only a few minutes ago, he had been convinced that he would be able to carry extremely interesting gossip into the kitchen. In another few minutes, he would be very confused, but it didn't matter. Perhaps he would remember seeing a strangely decorated note, but now there was none, guaranteeing that this rumor would vanish into thin air. Geralt, however, retreated to a quiet corner where he could examine the scrap of paper unobserved.

He did not find any traces on it this time either, just as he did not find any in the surrounding area. This was certainly no longer a coincidence. If Geralt didn't find out who these "embellishments" came from, Emhyr wouldn't either, and his wrath would weigh much more heavily than Geralt's anger. In the meantime, as a distraction perhaps, or as a special treat, the assassination attempts would be guaranteed to continue. Geralt almost tore the paper in his hands at the thought. Because he couldn't think of anything else to do, he lifted it to his nose and sniffed it after making sure once again that no one was around.

His instincts seldom deceived him, and they did not this time either. The paper had a distinctive smell. At first, he flinched, so sharp and unpleasant a scent of cheap rose perfume pricked his nose. Who the hell (besides the Novigrad whores in the nastiest neighborhood) used something like that? Someone without taste, who either wanted to cover something. Or... Sniffing once again, Geralt narrowed his eyes. There was indeed another smell under the perfume, something different, special. Nevertheless, it didn't seem as if someone had wanted to cover up something. Geralt thoughtfully ran his finger over the coal-black heart that had been painted next to his face. A thought started to form, and he didn't like it.

- - -

It was kind of unfortunate that Hans had to die; after all, the guy had known more about dopplers than he did, Flynn mused. However, Hans had possessed a horse, while Flynn had left quite a few villages and miles behind him without raising enough money or even being able to steal one. Well, sometimes fortune favors the bold, or so the saying went. Maybe Flynn should have paid better attention to some lessons in his day; then, he might have known how to spot a doppler. But maybe Hans should have paid close attention rather than to be poisoned by a cat, of all things. That was probably poetic justice, at least if you had a somewhat unhinged personality, and it was undeniable that Flynn's was.

As a matter of fact, Flynn had been wandering around aimlessly for quite a while. People were suspicious, they had always been of witchers, but as far as he was concerned, it somehow made no difference whether he wore his medallion or not. After all, what was said about Cat witchers wasn't wholly wrong, if not wholly correct. If Flynn had been asked about it, he probably would have admitted most of it, because if there was one thing that had been beaten out of him and his comrades, it was false modesty (and also a sense of honor, compassion, shame, fear, and a half-dozen other troublesome feelings). As the saying went, witchers were, after all, ultimate killing machines, and each feline was the perfection of this ideal.

The price of this – and Flynn would most certainly have denied it, in part because he didn't even suspect it – was a certain, gradual loss of the rational mind. One might say, many cat witchers were mad as a hatter. Only, at some point, hatters had started wearing specially made thin gloves while working, so the rate of errant hatters had dropped considerably in the last two decades. The number of witchers had also declined, of course, due to the nature of the profession. But in the case of Cat school witchers, there was no denying that a large number of them had dug their own graves. So one could have imagined that Flynn's attempt to hunt down a supposed doppler who had taken the form of the emperor of Nilfgaard was not necessarily promising. Most would probably have considered this ambitious undertaking a pretty insane gamble. Flynn, however, would not. He had his own motives.

- - -

Usually, Geralt was not particularly prone to nervousness. He still had no clues as to who had decorated the stupid little portraits and placed them under his nose, and it started to bother him the more time passed. The fact that he seemed absent on several occasions, stopped making silly remarks about apple pancakes at breakfast, and kept looking in all corners was all too obvious to the always hyper-attentive Emhyr.

Emhyr didn't say anything because first of all, he was used to Geralt acting strange sometimes (though, admittedly, the range of this "strange" was just widening), and second, there might be reasons for it. However, when Geralt suddenly sniffed around Adan one morning and a brawl almost developed between the two witchers, he had to put his foot down. He insisted that Geralt take him for a walk, which coincidentally (ha, as if anything here was coincidental) led in the direction of their private chambers.

"We should talk eventually," he said almost innocently, but innocence was pretty much one of the last features anyone would have attributed to Emhyr – certainly not Geralt.

"Seems like you're trying to ground me to my room," Geralt replied.

Emhyr raised his brows, rarely a good sign.

"Would that be necessary for any reason?"

"What?"

While the two stared at each other as if two tigers were circling each other in a cage (only, in a way, a little more affectionately, of course), Geralt noticed something out of the corner of his eye a few steps in front of him, quite near the door, in front of which guards stood as usual. His heartbeat nearly stopped.

"I'm only saying, you've been acting oddly lately…," began Emhyr, but Geralt didn't let him finish. He abruptly stood in front of him, took Emhyr's hands, and said, "Yep, you're absolutely right, but let's discuss this somewhere else."

With these words, he pulled his spouse close, spinning him around as well, only to then press his lips to Emhyr's so tumultuously that he was pushed against the adjacent wall. At this unusually violent outburst of emotion, the guards looked elsewhere in embarrassment, and Geralt shamelessly smooched Emhyr in a specific direction. To his credit, the not too long ago wedding apparently blinded Emhyr to this basically far too apparent attempt at distraction. Anyway, Geralt had enough time to tear the third note from the wall, noticing that the resin was still fresh – and this time, there was a heart completely wrapped around his part of the drawing, while Emhyr had been completely torn from the parchment.

This really wasn't funny anymore, but for now, Geralt had another mission to fulfill. So, kissing Emhyr, he continued to maneuver him into the chambers, where he inconspicuously let the note disappear into a marble vase. What happened next caused red ears on the guards outside the door, a red neck on Emhyr and... well, let's leave it at that.

- - -

Geralt's discomfort actually began to border on nervousness as he lost valuable time (well, in this case, it had probably been pleasantly invested) in the search for whoever had caused this whole mess. He lay awake half the night brooding. At least one thing was clear: the person must already be in the palace. But how had they gotten in? A needless question, Geralt thought. If his vague suspicions were correct, it was a witcher, and he had found some way to smuggle himself past even one of his own kind – which Adan wouldn't like. Geralt briefly considered telling him about it. The latter's occasional bouts of paranoia had already caused him to tighten security, and yet someone had still managed to get in and put up those darn notes.

But Geralt was convinced (frankly, this was a bit deluded) that first and foremost, he was responsible for Emhyr's safety. Besides, it was necessary to avoid a tantalizing scandal. After all, their wedding had not been received with delight everywhere; even the simple fact that Geralt had suddenly stopped eating pancakes one morning set the rumor mill abuzz. Every court fed on a certain love-hate relationship with its ruler; that was a simple fact. Every little thing had the potential to circulate throughout the palace. Ideally, a forward-looking ruler controlled or suppressed the rumors depending on what was convenient at the time. It would be inappropriate if it came out that a cat witcher was stalking Geralt with a twisted form of love letters and at the same time trying to get rid of his rival.

It would be even more embarrassing if Geralt was wrong and chasing a pipe dream. In the end, he couldn't just say that he was convinced he was able to recognize Cat witchers by their scent (he was, even if it wasn't an ability to be proud of). So he pondered, trying to put himself in the twisted brain of a feline. Where would he hide? Guaranteed in a place where no one would look for him, especially not the emperor's security advisor, who was a Cat witcher himself. The sewers? The attic? No. It would have to be a place that was both subtle and under everyone's nose, like a blind spot. Something like the guardroom, perhaps, crazy and daring at the same time. Or... A thought struck Geralt like a bolt of lightning. Deftly, he wriggled out of bed and slipped out of the room.

- - -

There was something Geralt hadn't factored into his deliberations – admittedly, he had probably been a bit distracted. Emhyr was a comparatively light sleeper, something that years of caution in the face of simmering danger had trained him to be – another commonality with Geralt, coincidentally. In any case, it was not surprising that Emhyr awoke not long after Geralt's disappearance, if only due to the sentimental fact that the bed was suddenly literally colder. A few half-burned candles lit the bedchamber, and had Emhyr been even half susceptible to scary stories, the shadows on the wall might have struck him as ominous. But as it was, he merely wondered where his husband had disappeared to in the middle of the night (he could have just been peeing, of course, but with Geralt, hardly anything was ever so simple).

Something seemed to be in the air anyway; something was strange. Emhyr sat up and looked into the semi-darkness of the room as if he could brighten the corners with his gaze alone. Maybe it was just the interrupted sleep, but his heart almost stopped when a figure suddenly emerged from the shadows.

"Gotcha," snarled the guy, who looked to Emhyr very much like a... witcher.

How the hell had he gotten in here? Now was not the time to worry about his security measures or the incompetence of his guards (but, oh, that would happen). Emhyr slowly groped for the dagger under the mattress (that, at least, was a safety measure he clearly trusted).

"Now, now," the witcher reprimanded him indulgently. "We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

However, the voice sounded more like that was the goal. Emhyr didn't know what hit him, but he found himself dragged out of bed and tied to a chair a few seconds later.

"This is a mistake," he said threateningly.

The witcher smiled, though not kindly.

"Yes, you see, that's what I thought, too. You bastard, you really could have taken any shape. But the emperor of Nilfgaard? That's pretty brazen. I hear there's a doppler in Novigrad posing as Whoreson Junior. Didn't believe it; who would be stupid enough to take over this hoe face? But a doppler who gives the emperor, that is really something else. I mean, that alone is already pretty insane. But I could have seen that over, you know."

Flynn had drawn one of his swords and weighed it loosely in his hand as he spoke. Now he placed it threateningly on Emhyr's chest. He, however, was not so easily impressed.

"I have no idea what this is about."

"You don't?"

With his free hand, Flynn rummaged briefly in his pockets and then pulled out another of the papers of the wedding announcement containing Emhyr's and Geralt's portraits.

"Then explain this to me!" snorted Flynn, holding the paper up to Emhyr's nose. The latter looked at it, frowning. The paper was half torn, and obviously, someone had scribbled on it. Were those little hearts drawn next to Geralt's face?

It was confusing, but he calmly replied, "What's there to explain?"

"I beseech you. As if the Emperor of Nilfgaard had ever married a witcher. You, sir, are merely a cocky doppler who somehow managed to seduce the most beautiful witcher of the North. Fie, I say, fie!"

"I beg your pardon?"

Bewilderment was written exceptionally clearly on Emhyr's face, which anyone but Flynn would have acknowledged. He waved his sword in front of Emhyr's face, which cost the latter some of his iron restraint not to flinch.

"He's a good man," Flynn asserted, who could not have known such things and was, admittedly, relying on hearsay and storytelling. "Too good for a doppler, anyway."

"I assure you, I am not a doppler."

Emhyr should have known that reasoning and talking him into conscience would not work on a feline. However, he was perhaps spoiled by his security advisor, who had much less of the irrationality of many of his fellow witchers, though a touch more of their paranoia. As far as that was concerned, all things considered, Adan was probably an exception, while this witcher was an unfortunate rule.

"You are," Flynn insisted. "Denial is futile. Change back on the spot, show me your true face, you beast!"

The sword threateningly approached Emhyr's neck once more, and he immediately gave up trying to fight against the bonds. The guy might be crazy, but he was still the one with the blade in his hand. To Emhyr's luck, though he had no idea of it, Flynn didn't have a clue how to get a doppler actually to change back. However, it didn't take much intellect to imagine that the witcher would eventually resort to the means that always convinced a basically peaceful doppler – and the sword was already at Emhyr's throat.

There was a peculiar gleam in Flynn's eyes, certainly not due to the candlelight alone, as he continued, "So, now tell me where Geralt is. Did he find out who you are and tried to escape? Have you locked him up? Or is this whole wedding story maybe just a weird political farce you forced him into?"

His enraptured smile showed that he would like all these variations: in any case, he wanted to be the one to save Geralt.

Emhyr's brows almost disappeared into his hairline in astonishment.

"I... what? I'm sure he'll be right back," he replied feebly as he pondered feverishly.

Yes, where the hell was Geralt?

- - -

Geralt got tired after a while of trying to convince the guards that the imperial consort needed to check the dungeon's security, and yes, even in the middle of the night because that's what unannounced inspections meant, and yes, the sword in his hand was for his own safety. A small dose of Axii persuaded the last door guard and the turnkey. Now he had free rein to examine the – empty – cells. Things had been remarkably quiet lately, even if the cell guard and the turnkey always had to be ready. Peacetime rarely produced prisoners in a palace. At the same time, this was the very place where no one would suspect an intruder. It would be easy for a witcher to walk past the two idiots outside every day, make them believe they hadn't seen anything at all, and then calmly make assassination plans...

Geralt's instinct had not deceived him this time either. It was a bold plan to hide in the middle of the palace, but in fact, a blind spot, just as he had suspected. Admittedly, all the cells lay open, empty and innocent in front of him, so that he did start to have doubts for a moment. But the last one finally brought clarity. Moonlight illuminated a narrow room from the barred window with nothing but dust floating in the air, slowly sinking to the floor, a hard cot embedded in the wall, and the obligatory bucket next to the door.

But on the wooden cot, as if in mockery, lay a whole stack of the wedding announcements. It seemed like the guy had traipsed halfway across the continent to get his hands on these things. All seemed hastily torn off in anger. Many were bleached by the sun or washed out by the rain, ragged at the ends (some also gnawed off), in short in a pitiful condition. Around a dozen times, Geralt looked at his face with the fake smile painted on it. Next to the papers lay a piece of coal, carefully sharpened at one end. On the top piece of paper, the witcher had already begun to decorate Geralt's face with hearts again. Geralt took the coal and crushed it in his fist in a fit of anger. This needed to end.

It occurred to him that while it seemed relatively easy to make plans in the middle of the night with a sword in hand to roast a cat witcher over an open fire, these plans could hardly be put into action if the same was not present. Geralt's momentary anger dissipated as quickly as it had come. Where was the guy? Geralt sniffed. The strange rose perfume was in the air again. Had the witcher sprayed the notes with it? Did he use Geralt's portrait as a jerk-off material?! Oh, he would chop off each of his fingers one by one...

However, he still had to find him to do so. Geralt focused on the surroundings, examining the dusty floor, yet superficially there was nothing but dirt and rat droppings. His heartbeat quickened for a moment when he realized that the tracks were surprisingly fresh this time. Of course, the feline had come here all the time, so for once, there were actually tracks to find. And he hadn't bothered to cover them up in any way, just as he had left the telltale notes lying around because he could assume that they weren't looking for him here. Geralt would just have to follow the trail to get him into his hands. A cold shiver ran down his spine when he finally realized.

His hand closed tighter around the sword hilt. What an idiot he had been! The last message had been attached right next to the imperial chambers. The fact that the witcher was not in his hiding place in the middle of the night could only mean one thing. Geralt ran back the way he came.

- - -

The tip of the sword pressed uncomfortably on Emhyr's chest; it had already drilled a hole in his nightgown. Still, that crazy witcher stood over him, yelling at him to tell him where Geralt was. Emhyr still didn't quite understand why the guy thought he was a doppler, but he let the excited man's rain of spit stoically wash over him as the same shouted again, "Change back immediately! Make yourself known; you freak of a doppler! Show me your true form!"

"I could show you my insignia," Emhyr offered calmly.

"That proves nothing! After all, everyone knows that your kind practically carves such things out of their own flesh!"

This only proved that Flynn hadn't been paying attention in his lessons about dopplers, even if it wasn't entirely wrong – but it wasn't entirely correct either. In truth, it was somewhat less violent than Flynn implied. However, clearly he wouldn't lack in violence any time soon. That much Emhyr understood, even if the reason for this attack was still not entirely apparent to him. However, it also seemed pointless to him to get through to the guy with rational arguments, threats, or other chatter. He carefully jerked his bonds once again, but in this respect, the man knew his business.

"This is your last chance," Flynn now threatened. "Ghastly doppler, make yourself known already!"

Even as Emyhr wondered if the man had read these sayings in a pulp novel, the door was torn open, and Geralt jumped into the room (over the corpses of the guards, which the feline hadn't even bothered to remove).

"That took quite a while," Emhyr muttered as he gave him an appreciative look.

For there stood his spouse, clad in nothing but his breeches (yes, he had indeed wandered around the palace bare-chested, violating quite a few protocols, though almost no one had seen him). In any case, at that moment, with his hair falling wildly around his shoulders and his sword raised high (and his pecs shining in the moonlight)… Well, he appeared quite like the illustration from one of those cheap erotica novels Geralt sometimes, not so secretly, read. And while Emhyr always silently rebuked him for it with very wide raised brows if he ever caught him (and, well, usually not so silently), he had to admit that the sight was not exactly uninspiring. To be saved was not always that bad.

Wrathfully, Geralt stared at the other witcher. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this guy. Had it not been for the armor, which betrayed the affiliation to the Cat school even without a visible medallion, one could have simply mistaken the man for a simple-minded pretty boy. The wavy hair and handsome face almost reminded Geralt of Dandelion in his blond phase. Well, a little like Dandelion on fisstech, maybe. At the moment, the guy didn't look exceptionally well-groomed, which was undoubtedly due to his current, somewhat erratic lifestyle. But Dandelion had also been known to sleeping in the gutter occasionally – and it would be a mistake to underestimate either of them.

"Geralt," Flynn stammered delightedly, almost letting go of the sword but just managing to restrain himself.

"Put the weapon down," Geralt growled.

"First, the doppler must reveal himself. He is dangerous!"

"What doppler?" Geralt asked, confused.

"Well, him!" said Flynn, gesturing to Emhyr.

"Why is he a doppler?"

"A viper told me," Flynn replied proudly.

"A viper witcher?"

Flynn nodded eagerly.

Geralt blinked in irritation. What was going on here? Threateningly, he took a step toward the other.

"Take the sword down now; maybe I'll let you live."

"I beg you; dopplers are dangerous creatures; we can't let him live after all. I'm just waiting for him to make himself known."

"Dopplers are not dangerous," Geralt said. "And why should he reveal himself? Ever thought that's not even possible because he's not a doppler?"

"You can only kill them if they take on their true form," Flynn claimed, confusing things again.

"Bullshit."

"Geralt," Emhyr growled warningly. This was not an idea to be planted in the other witcher's head.

Flynn still was not convinced.

"But Geralt! This guy here has pretended to be the emperor. You can't let that happen, can you? How did he get you to agree to this alleged marriage?"

"Alleged marriage?" repeated Geralt contemptuously, turning his sword hand so that Flynn could see his wedding ring.

"Awful, so he forced you?" exclaimed Flynn.

"I'm telling you for the last time, this is not a doppler, this is my husband, and if you don't put your sword down right now..."

"He just brainwashed you," Flynn claimed, but he actually put the sword down – though only to take a step toward Geralt. "That's why they're so dangerous. Crazy critters."

"Only one crazy here," Emhyr muttered, jerking his bonds again. Maybe he'd topple over with the chair, but he wouldn't stop.

"I walked halfway across the country to find you," Flynn said now in an almost soft voice. "Since I first saw your very portrait…"

Geralt wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Is this supposed to be a confession of love?"

"What?" Emhyr let himself be heard sharply. Uh-oh.

Flynn gave him a look. "You shut up for once. Dopplers don't know anything about love."

"So this wasn't just a stupid prank? Those... those hearts?" asked Geralt, somewhat stunned.

"What hearts?" returned Emhyr, but no one listened to him.

"Of course not," Flynn said with a smile. Granted, a smiling cat witcher didn't necessarily seem more reassuring, certainly not with a sword in his hand. "I have come to prove my love for you by freeing you from the clutches of the doppler!"

"What?" roared Emhyr, now actually tugging so hard at his bonds that he toppled over with the chair. Ouch.

Geralt and Flynn both glanced at him, one to make sure nothing else was hurt except his spouse's pride, the other to make sure... well, maybe to find out if a fall finally made a doppler out of an emperor, but tough luck.

"Now listen," Geralt said threateningly, his sword raised. "This is your last chance to leave, or I'll show you my love, though it will hurt."

"True love hurts," Flynn returned, though clearly doubtful.

Was it possible that he had been so wrong? Certainly not about the doppler. Everyone knew that the Vipers had a score to settle with the emperor. That's why Hans had to die – he had held such important information that Flynn couldn't allow him to take his cheap revenge on this image of the emperor if he couldn't get hold of the real one. Wherever he actually was. It was a confusing thought that Flynn preferred not to pursue. What hurt, however, was the realization that Geralt apparently did not return his love. Maybe he just needed to woo him more? But how? Maybe with a gift, but unfortunately, Flynn didn't have anything... His gaze fell on Emhyr again.

"I'll prove it to you," he said firmly.

With catlike speed, he set up next to the chair, which by now lay on the floor along with the fake emperor. He took the sword between both hands, pointing downward. Right at Emhyr's heart (he was sure of his aim, he was neither drunk nor drugged – just not in his right mind).

"The fuck you will," Geralt shouted and went after the other.

- - -

A battle broke out, marked by righteous anger on one side and disappointed mental salvation on the other. The chair, tipped over and thus cracked, finally allowed Emhyr to break free from his bonds. He rolled to the side with little elegance and then jumped to his feet to get out of the way of the fighting men. The flickering candlelight illuminated the two witchers, whose blades had taken on a reddish glow as a result. Steel crashed on steel as the two circled each other catlike (well, in one case quite accurately), always looking for a possible flaw in the other's cover, although that proved to be no easy feat. For all their differences, their training had been very similar in terms of swordplay. Flynn was perhaps a bit more light-footed, but Geralt made up for it in cunning. What one lacked in speed, he made up for in strength and vice versa, and in prickliness, they were pretty much equal at the moment.

One assassination attempt after another, and then this crazy confession of love – Geralt was fed up. The Cat had left behind a trail of crime long enough now (though Geralt had no idea that the dead guards outside the door were just the tip of the iceberg). They beat each other mercilessly, but neither could really harm the other.

"Now see reason," shouted Flynn, who didn't have much interest in a sword fight. One last remnant in him still wanted to give Geralt the chance to see that he truly cared for him. He had put a lot of effort into this, and he found it unpleasant) to harm his prize.

"You want me to see reason?" roared Geralt. "You're absolutely fucking insane!"

Fortunately, Flynn didn't take much offense to such insults; he was already used to them.

Again their swords clashed, and above all the noise and shouting, Emhyr, slowly making his way along the wall to the door, wondered if he should put more than two guards in front of the door in the future. And why the hell did no one actually hear anything of this commotion? Carefully, he groped his way forward, silently cursing all of his soldiers, the captain of the Impera Brigade, his security advisor, and even the sorceress, as if she could have foreseen what was going on here like a cheap fortune teller. However, he had to admit, the sight of his half-naked husband flexing his muscles in a sword fight was somehow inappropriately arousing. He could almost imagine sparks flying when the blades clashed, even if it was just a reflection of the candlelight... and he had better keep his senses and get out of the way to get help.

The fight was getting heated, and Flynn had to admit he didn't understand the world anymore. He had only made all these efforts out of love. How on earth was he supposed to make Geralt understand that he only had good intentions in mind? Well, good was relative in this case, but still. However, neither of them could gain the advantage; their fighting skills were too equal. Sometimes one, sometimes the other had the upper hand for a short time as they whirled around each other, a lunge here, a deft stroke there, but everything was always copied in the same way, so that Flynn almost believed that not the emperor, but perhaps Geralt was the doppler. What if that was true? He urgently needed to land a good blow to prove his theory.

Flynn, who hadn't paid particularly close attention during lessons on dopplers – which, admittedly, also dated back several decades – suddenly had no trouble remembering another lecture. A distressed animal either attacked mindlessly or retreated. But a cat witcher never turned tail. He simply did both: feign retreat and then attack with a barely predictable move that was both a duck and a push forward. He caught Geralt off guard. The latter had not expected such an advance, and Flynn managed to inflict a scratch on his arm, albeit a slight one. Surprised, Geralt lost his balance and slipped on the stupid carpet, which had already shifted several times during the fight. Geralt landed on his back, and Flynn stood over him, grinning.

This was his proof: despite the injury, Geralt was still Geralt, not a doppler, and thus worthy of his love.

"A good opportunity to give up and realize that the doppler has to be eliminated," Flynn said. "We can both do it so you can finally understand how great the danger really is and that I did all this to protect you."

"Like hell you will," Emhyr's voice came from nowhere, and then a heavy, marble vase crashed down on Flynn's head. His eyes rolling back into their sockets, he sank to the floor.

"Now that was a lousy rescue," Emhyr grumbled, reaching out his hand and helping his embarrassed spouse to his feet.

- - -

Over the next few days, Emhyr's internal informants had a lot of work to keep the intriguing rumors spreading like wildfire throughout the palace in proper channels. A few guards had been killed, a fire broke out in a cell in the dungeon, a bunch of people (including the turnkey) made a very confused impression, and then there was also a cat witcher to lock away (though in another part of the dungeon, an older part that Flynn hadn't suspected).

The commotion was intense, but only a handful of people learned the actual truth in the end. And the stories circulating in the palace, thanks to the vanished evidence – namely the decorated slips of paper – weren't even close to the truth of what occurred. Granted, the imprisoned witcher was, well, unusual. For the courtiers, of course, there was no doubt that he was to blame for the reported attacks on the emperor, which had thus finally turned out to be the truth. Some were still puzzling over his motives, while hatred of the emperor alone was a valid enough reason; the guy was acting very strangely, according to the guards assigned to him. Sometimes, they reported, he muttered to himself, "I only did it out of love. Damn viper, millennium hand an' shrimp."

Definitely crazy, this guy.

Peace returned to the palace. But sometimes, on moonlit nights, not only real cats could be heard yowling in the courtyard. Sometimes a soft, mournfully desperate call seemed to come from far, far below the old walls of the palace. "Geraaaaalt," someone seemed to call out, like a lovesick tomcat.

Or maybe it was just the wind.

#writing #fanfiction #Emralt #Emhyr x Geralt #Emhyr/Geralt

11 notes · View notes

louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years ago

Note

can you do some rowaelin content based on invisible string by Taylor? pretty please

I love TS!!! Invisible String is so pretty and I had the perfect idea for it immediately. The whole bracelet thing was a real thing where I grew up, so it was nice to write about it. Enjoy!

Invisible string

May 1993

Aelin didn’t believe in love at first sight, but the first time she saw Rowan Whitethorn, she wanted to.

She had barely turned fifteen, just two days before, when she saw him for the first time. Then, she didn’t know his name, his age or anything about him, but she wanted to.

She was sitting down on a shaded spot on the green grass. Lysandra and Elide had dragged her to the park in the morning to watch the early Beltane commemorations. Every year on Beltane day, the kids were provided a series of games and prizes in the Centennial Park, and at night the adults would come, light up the fires and dance until the sun shone in the sky once more. Aelin loved Beltane, it was her holiday. Her family used to joke that it made sense that a girl that had so much wildfire inside of her had been born so close to Beltane.

Her spot in the grass gave her a direct view into the yogurt shop on the other side of the park. And there, standing in a ridiculous pink-and-blue apron and white hat, was the silver headed guy she couldn’t stop staring.

“You know who’s the guy working at Emrys’s?” She nudged Lysandra with her elbow, and her friend sat up and looked to where Aelin was jerking her chin.

“The silver headed?” Lys asked, her nose scrunching up. “Rowan Whitethorn. He’s in your cousin’s class, turning seventeen in a few months, I think.”

“Hum.”

“Oh, no. I know that look. Whitethorn is bad news, Ace. Stay away from him.” Lys warned and Elide nodded from where she was laying down.

She nodded vaguely, but her eyes didn’t leave Rowan. Even for his age, he was already tall and toned. His teal shirt was rolled back at the sleeves to reveal a tattoo sneaking up his arm from his wrist. He was completely serious, not smiling at one costumer and seeming infinitely bored.

Rowan Whitethorn looked like bad news, and Aelin was attracted to it like a moth to the flame.

However, she didn’t go up to him. At that time, as much daring as she was, she still possessed that teenage natural shyness, and talking to a boy two years older than her who looked like he wanted to smash everyone’s skulls wasn’t really her area of expertise. She watched him every now and then, though. The morning ended, giving away to a hot afternoon. At some point, a few kids started running around with buckets, giving away little strings to everyone.

“It grants you a wish.” The little boy told her when he stopped by her tree. “You tie it around your wrist and when it falls down naturally, you can make a wish and it comes true.”

“Oh, really?” Elide, always the nicest one of their trio, asked sounding genuinely interested.

“Yes. Anything you wish becomes true. Sometimes it falls after days, sometimes it takes years, my daddy told me. But it falls eventually and you get a wish.” The boy sounded extremely excited. Aelin guesses that being eight and going around giving magical strings did that to a kid.

“I’ll take one, then. Who doesn’t want a wish, right?” Elide said and the little boy nodded eagerly, handing her a purple string.

“I’ll take one too, of course.” Lysandra smiled, receiving a green string and tying it around her ankle.

When the little boy turned to Aelin, she grinned at him. “I wouldn’t waste the opportunity of having a wish come true, would I?”

The boy smiled back at her, giving her the only gold string inside his bucket. He was running off to the next group of people before she could even thank him. She laughed under her breath, starting to tie it around her wrist. As she gave it the final knot, she looked back at the yogurt shop. Rowan had, surprisingly, also accepted a string from a little girl. He gave her a little smile as he knelt near her, and when she sauntered off, his eyes roamed around the park, stopping on her.

Aelin thought she was mistaken, that in no way in hell he was staring at her, but as Rowan finished tying his string, he raised his wrist and winked.

Aelin could only stare at the equally golden string on his wrist.

———————————

October 1996

Rowan was celebrating his twentieth birthday just the way he planned: getting drunk.

He and his friends had been planning this trip to Los Angeles for months now, and they had ditched a whole week in the university to do it . It was completely worth it, though. They had spent the last three days doing fucking nothing other than drinking and playing some shitty videogame. Rowan had watched Fenrys flirt with every woman that talked to him, watched Lorcan and Aedion scowling and Connall and Vaughan acting like the loving couple they always were.

Things were normal and they were good.

“Man, how the fuck did you find this restaurant?” Fenrys muttered, taking a sip of his beer. Rowan had to agree, the pub’s entrance was almost unnoticeable, and if it wasn’t for Aedion, they would have never found it.

The food was great, the drinks were great and whoever was in charge of the playlist had impeccable taste. Rowan couldn’t think of a better place to spend his birthday.

Aedion scoffed, putting his phone down. “I didn’t find shit. My cousin has been to LA a thousand times and pestered me about coming here. She said, and I quote, that it was her favorite pub in LA, that the food was divine, the beer didn’t taste like piss and, even if the two latter statements weren’t true, the amazing music makes up for it.”

“You are Aelin’s cousin!” The waitress exclaimed, a heavy Scottish accent making the words roll out of her tongue. She must have heard what Aedion was saying when she was walking back to their table to ask if they wanted anything else. “You have her face, and I’ve heard her say those words every time she visited us. Lovely girl, wicked smart, too. Tricked poor Rolfe into letting her buy beer at the age of seventeen! We all though she was twenty two until she was tipsy enough to reveal the truth.”

Aedion grinned. “Sounds exactly like my cousin.”

The waitress laughed out loud, looking at the rest of them. For some reason, her eyes stopped at Rowan. “Beautiful girl, isn’t she? Gets prettier every time she comes by. Looks like one of those American singers.”

He smiled politely at her, but didn’t answer. Rowan had never spoken to Aedion’s cousin. Actually, he had only seen her once.

Rowan looked down at the worn string on his wrist. All his friends had lost theirs already, but Rowan’s was still standing strong. He didn’t believe in any of that bullshit, but he had to admit he had grown fond of the soft scrapping the string gave him. The mention of Aelin and the vision of the golden string only helped him remember the only time he had seen her. It had been Beltane little over three years ago, he was just sixteen and working with yogurt because he really needed the money.

He would have never wore a blue-and-pink apron otherwise.

The day was terribly hot, and Rowan hated interacting with people. Hated small talk and it looked like every person that came by decided that they didn’t want only yogurt, but also a five minute talk with him.

Absolute fucking torture.

When the kids had come around with the strings, it was the first time Rowan wasn’t pissed at the need to talk to someone. The kid had been lovely; a little girl explaining how he would be granted a wish if he wore the string and let it fall naturally. She grabbed the only golden one inside her bucket, running away as Rowan tied it on his wrist.

He looked around mindlessly, but his gaze stopped on a golden haired woman looking at him. Being so far away, Rowan couldn’t identify who she was exactly, but there was something familiar about her. And even from afar he knew that the girl was drop dead gorgeous.

And then he noticed the golden string on her wrist. If it was any other color it might have been something he would have missed it, but the golden thing caught in the light and shined, just like the one on his own wrist. Rowan never understood why he did it, but he raised his wrist to how her his string and winked at her.

Later he discovered why she had looked familiar. She was his best friend’s cousin.

“Ace does get prettier every year.” Fenrys’s voice rang, taking Rowan out of his memories. “Much to the dismay of anyone who has to deal with her ego.”

Vaughan laughed at that. He and Fenrys were the only ones besides Aedion who had any contact with Aelin.

Still staring at the golden string, Rowan almost opened his mouth to ask Aedion for her number. He didn’t know why, the thought had come all too sudden to his head, and he bit his tongue to stop the words.

He didn’t know Aelin one bit, and just ask for her number after a waitress said she was beautiful sounded like a way to pick a fight with Aedion who was extremely protective of his younger cousin.

No, Rowan thought, better to just leave things as they are.

——————————————

New Year’s Eve 1999

Aelin never thought she would be spending New Year’s Eve in a dive bar with her friends and her cousin’s friends.

Usually for end of the year celebrations, her parents would organize a gala or some shit that would force Aelin to wear a boring dress. This year, however, her parents decided to go travel to Europe and spend two weeks there.

And because of that Aelin was wearing a mini red dress, extremely high stilettos, listening to obnoxiously bad music in a small dive bar as she and her group drank beer of questionable quality.

It was fucking great.

She toyed with the dull string on her wrist, the thing probably just hours or days from snapping. After almost seven years, it was about time. She had thought about simply cutting it before, but could never go through with it. It had become a friendly bracelet, one she twisted when nervous or distracted. It had been in all her photos since the age of fifteen, and it would be strange when it fell.

“So I wasn’t the only one who didn’t get their wish yet.” A man’s voice came from behind her, and Aelin turned around to stare at her teenage crush.

Rowan had been attractive at sixteen, but now at twenty three he was straight up hot. He had grown even more, his body looking just as defined. Even with the heels, Aelin tipped her back a little to look at him.

They had never talked, never even looked at each other after that Beltane celebration. Every now and then Aelin would consider asking Vaughan or Fenrys for Rowan’s number, but that would have been strange. She had even once looked him up on social medias after a nasty break up with a man named Chaol. Rowan had no idea who she was, but a small part of Aelin would never be able to forget him.

He had been the crush of her teenage years, even if they had never interacted.

“I’m almost.” She said, raising her wrist the same way he had years ago. “Never thought I would enter the two thousands with this thing still on my wrist.”

“Looks like the golden ones are really lasting.” He showed her his wrist, an equally worn golden string laying there. “I’m Rowan.”

“Aedion told me about you. I’m Aelin.” She extended a hand, and he grabbed it with a smile on his face.

“Aedion has told me about you, too.”

“I tremble just from thinking about exactly what Aedion has told you.” She shivered and he laughed. He didn’t look like the angry teenager she had fallen for in secret, but like an easy going man that she would have no problems talking to.

Oh no. We are not going back to our fifteen years old crush. We have grown out of that.

“Want to go to the bar grab a drink?” He asked.

“Sure.”

Fucking idiot.

Aelin almost told her brain to shut up out loud.

“So, what have you been doing? Still with the whole yogurt shit?”

He smiled at her as they walked to the bar. “Fortunately have left those days behind. Most miserable job I have ever had.”

“The blue-and-pink apron and fake smile really did it for you, though.”

He laughed out loud and Aelin smiled, sitting on a stool.

“Was I that memorable, Galathynius? You saw me only once.”

And at that moment, a doubt she had for the past years had been answered. He had seen her that day, and the wink had probably been to her too.

“The sight was ridiculous enough that I could never forget, Whitethorn.” Her grin became wider. “And the little white hat on your hair was the cherry on top.”

Rowan was trying to scowl, but Aelin saw how he had to bite the inside of his cheeks to refrain from laughing. The moment he opened his mouth to reply, Fenrys threw his arm around her shoulders, taking all attention to him.

“My two favorite people.”

“You’re drunk.” Aelin deadpanned as Rowan sighed.

“It is my happiest state of mind, my dear.” He booped her nose. “I’m so glad the two of you started talking by yourselves. I thought I would need to introduce you guys.”

Aelin knew she would regret it immediately, but she asked anyways. “Why would you bother, wolfie?”

“Well,” he started, suddenly trying to act serious. Aelin had to bite her lower lip at the impatient look on Rowan’s face. When he looked at her, his eyes were almost pleading.

As if I could stop him now. She mouthed to him.

Wishful thinking, Galathynius. He mouthed back.

“Three years ago I thought it would finally happen, you know?” Fenrys continued, oblivious to Rowan and Aelin’s silent conversation. “Me and Vaughan always thought the two of you would get along. Same music taste, same movie taste, and bla bla bla… Three years ago,” hiccup. “Three years ago I thought Rowan was finally going to ask Aedion for your number after Aed said that you had been the one to choose the pub Rowan had loved. But he didn’t.”

Fenrys turned to Rowan, scowling deeply. Rowan’s ears were red, his cheeks slightly pink.

“And Aed was a prick and didn’t offer it himself.” Fenrys looked genuinely pissed. “And then tonight I learn from Lysandra about Aelin’s teenage cru—“

“Ok!” She said a little loudly, her own cheeks on flames. She tried not to look at Rowan, hoping Fenrys’s drunk words had been misinterpreted. “It’s two minutes for midnight, Fenrys. Go find someone else to make the last minutes of the century miserable.”

As if he hadn’t been about to drop one of her biggest secrets and embarrassments, Fenrys simply gave her a peck on the cheek and walked away.

She stared at his back, not wanting to look at Rowan.

“What was that, Ace? I didn’t catch it right. Teenage what?” He asked, but by the tone of his voice Aelin knew that he knew exactly what Fenrys was talking about.

She was going to kill Fenrys. And then Lysandra for telling him. And the Aedion for buying Lysandra the alcohol that made her tell him.

“I was young.” She said through clenched teeth. Her cheeks were burning.

When she turned back to him, he had a grin on his mouth.

“You liked me?” He sounded dopey.

“Fuck off.”

He laughed loudly, almost doubling over. Gosh, she wanted to open a hole on the ground and never see civilization again.

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the heartbreaker, had a crush on me?” A little bit of laughter was still on his voice, the smile still big on his face. “I’m flattered. Honestly.”

“Please, please shut the fuck up. And never talk about it again.” She pleaded, looking at the big clock on the bar. One minute for 2000. She was going to spend the last minute in the century dying of embarrassment. “Gosh, I want to kill you right now. And Fenrys, and Lys. Anyone with the information.”

“I remember when I heard that you had made Archer Finn cry when you broke up with him.” Rowan said as if she hadn’t said a word. “And you were head over heels for me.”

“I wasn’t head over heels for you, you insufferable bastard.” She grunted, crossing her arms and standing up. “And Fenrys said you were going to ask for my number three years ago, so stop gloating about me liking you.”

“I was.”

“I know you were gloating, I fucking heard you.” She raised her chin, looking at the clock again. Thirty seconds.

“I was going to ask for your number, I mean.” He explained, still smiling. Aelin didn’t know what to answer at that, so she only stared at him. He sounded so much more comfortable talking about it than she was. “You think these things accept me getting my wish before they fall?”

“What?”

Twenty seconds.

“Like, I get my wish now and when it falls I don’t wish for anything.”

Fifteen seconds.

“I don’t know?” Aelin replied. “I’m not really an expert on fake strings’ magic.”

Ten seconds. Everyone started the countdown.

“Well, let’s pretend then that it was an invisible string.”

Nine, eight, seven…

“Huh?”

“An invisible string. It broke right now and I get a wish.”

Six, five, four..

“An invisible string?”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her, and she instinctively smiled back at him.

They just stared at each other during the next two seconds, and when everyone screamed “one”, Rowan put his hands on Aelin hips and dragged her forward, placing her in between his legs as he bent down and pressed his lips to hers.

Aelin sighed, putting her arms around his shoulders and kissing him back. Rowan’s mouth was soft and warm against hers, and Aelin could feel his smile against her lips. She smiled too, and he took the opportunity to shove his tongue inside of her mouth, deepening the kiss. One of his hands went to the back of her head, holding her in place was his lips moved on hers, as his tongue moved against hers.

“Happy New Century, Galathynius.” Rowan murmured against her mouth, the screams around them sounding muffled by his voice.

“Happy New Century, Whitethorn.” She murmured back, smiling against his mouth as they kissed, not caring for anyone else, or anything else, as they focused on each other during the first minutes of the new century.

——————————————

December 2008

“And she had the biggest crush on me when she was fifteen.” Rowan whispered.

“Rowan Whitethorn, I swear to the gods that if you are telling them I liked you when I was younger, I’ll become a widow today!” His wife’s voice rang from the kitchen, and Rowan fake winced.

His kids only laughed at their parents, bright and happily.

Aelin’s golden head popped out of the kitchen, showing him her tongue. Rowan only winked at her, the same way he had when she had been fifteen. Her face morphed into a soft smile, and she came to them. Aelin sat on his lap, turning to their kids. Rowan pulled her back against her chest, putting his nose on the crook of her neck and breathing in.

He had been wrong eight years ago. The invisible string between them hadn’t snapped.

His wish did come true, though.

Tags:

@abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @maastrash @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass

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hermeticimp · 5 years ago

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My Thoughts on The Gods - Part 5

Welcome to Part 5 with our dear Greek god of madness, fertility, religious ecstasy, wine, and theatre - Dionysus!

Loved the 60s through 80s in the States. The devil may care and intense energy during these periods refreshed him after another series of violent, turbulent wars

Just as passionate about rioting and standing up for what you believe in as Ares. He understands better than anyone the power of a group, no matter who they are. (Just think about all the things the Maenads were able to do when they worked together!...However violent they were XD).

Just as into music as his brother Apollo. He loves the way you can just lose control when the music gets into you. It’s a level of ecstasy that few things can compare to.

Clubbing every night? Hell yeah! Any time is party time!

Hangs around frat parties and the like, happily keeping the booze overflowing and the energy up. However, that doesn’t mean he’s careless. He keeps an eye out for everyone, making sure they don’t drink too much, overdose, or harm anyone. He has no problem arranging rides for people to get home safely, which some of the other gods like Apollo, Hermes, Hestia, and Demeter assist with (the latter two helping provide shelter for those who are too incapacitated to leave and taking care of them). Apollo and Dionysus also utilize some tricks that help ease hangovers in the morning

Throws parties randomly when he feels things are getting a little too stale. What fun is being bored?

Can be seen in the quiet faith of a devotee, follower, spiritualist, or religious person

He is the experience of suddenly sensing and feeling the beauty and love of the gods

Visits mental institutions as a means of comforting those within, giving them a quiet peace of mind for a time

Advocates for mental health much like Hel and Apollo. Passionate about reform and destigmatizing having mental disorders

Loves the idea of mental health days. Just because it’s not as easy to see as a physical condition doesn’t mean that someone isn’t being effected

Enjoys going to open mics and poetry recitals with Apollo and The Muses. Applauds and gives compliments, along with constructive criticism, for each person

Loves slam poetry

Enjoys a mix of thought out lyrics and straight party songs with music

Looks out for children with Apollo, Artemis, Hebe, Hermes, Hera, Hestia, and Zeus. He watches over those who are unfortunately dealing with abusive households

Happy to step in when he sees others being bullied or disrespected. Nothing sets him off quicker than treating others inhumanely

Enjoys attending wine festivals and tastings

He is the burn of alcohol down your throat

Watches fondly over those having their first drink, giving advice on how to avoid overwhelming one’s self and getting sick

Big supporter of programs like Alcoholics and Narcotics Anonymous. As fun as drinking and (safe, legal) drug use can be, it’s equally important to recognize and respect the intense consequences they can have. He admires the strength of those in recovery

Watches over those working at rehab and methadone clinics. It’s not an easy job, especially when those who need help leave and fall into old patterns. He helps to ease the burden of those checked in and those who work there

He is the dedicated energy of writing a psychological thesis

Celebrates the diversity in sexuality and gender identity that exists today. Considering his own fluid identity, it brings joy to see others able to do the same

Enjoys watching people explore different identities to see what fits them. Nothing wrong with learning, experimenting, and growing with labels over time

He is the kind doctor who gently explains all of one’s options at a fertility clinic

Keeps an eye out for women who are going through late pregnancies and fertility treatments. Understands the toll and fears that come with these situations and helps to allay them

He is the whisper of a secret between close friends late at night

He is the impish smile of a stranger in a club

Can be found in the bright neons and city sounds during a late night drive

Advocates for the protection of endangered animals along with Demeter, Gaia, and his son Pan

Enjoys farming and survival simulators like Stardew Valley and Minecraft

Thinks games like Kind Words are brilliant! The idea of people coming together to comfort each other anonymously is heartwarming

Spends plenty of time hanging out with his brothers Hermes and Apollo. It’s never a dull moment with these three

Carves out time to explore nature with Demeter, Hera, Hestia, Persephone, Gaia, and Pan

He is the sound of dissonant voices coming together in harmony

Is the quiet contemplation of meditation that leads to sudden insights

The song The Other Side by Bruno Mars feat. Cee-lo Green and B.o.B. comes to mind when thinking about him, Apollo, and Hermes. The three often sing the song together

He is the friend who stays up to comfort and talk down a friend in crisis

Enjoys drama shows due to how over the top they can be

Brings flowers to those performing in their first stage shows, congratulating them on a job well done

He is the feeling of stage fright that morphs into confidence as one practices and leans their parts

ADORES film festivals. Seeing the vast variety, from short films, to documentaries, to full length indie films and the work put into them inspires him

Much like Aphrodite, he reps a variety of pride flags whenever he attends a pride parade

Is the gentle, comforting voice that affirms someone overwhelmed with their dysphoria

Supports more access to mental facilities to the underprivileged, inmates, and those on the streets

Supports sex workers and keeps an eye out for them along with Aphrodite, Artemis, Athena, and Eros

Attends a variety of productions, from elementary performances to Broadway. Enjoys each and every one of them regardless of how inaccurate or perfect they are

Enjoys playing Devil’s Advocate in Ethics classes

Gets into healthy debates with Apollo and Athena on a variety of subjects

Can be called on when dealing with introspection (along with Apollo… for the umpteenth time XD), especially with shadow work

Likes grapes, grape juice, wine, alcohol, chocolates, big cat imagery, dolphin imagery, devotional dance and song, art, acting, hymns, plays, movies, music, skulls, and ivy

Has connections with death via Zagreus and the Orphic Mysteries

#dionysus #dionysus devotee #hellenism #modern gods #devotional acts #connecting with the gods #deity work #deity worship #my post #my writing #livsmythfam #witch of color #thoughts on the gods #poc witch

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marueonmain · 4 years ago

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WINDFLOWER

part ten ~ does that ruin this? ~

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

A/N: I do not write revisions as to be confusing; I write revisions to prove to myself I can do better. I am open to listen to your comments and suggestions always. Messages/Asks made this update possible.

IMPORTANT: this part includes a revision of a deleted part so if you start reading and it sounds familiar, do not click off.

Summary: Alex and George are untruthful with each other. Alex clarifies a situation and hopes it does not make Y/N feel differently about him.

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Minor Language. Small Reference to Disordered Eating Habits. Minor Non-Graphic Injury. Fluff.

Word Count: 3.5k

“Ok. I’ll walk with you.”

Y/N removed her hand from atop his – resting on her knee – and pulled herself up to stand. She offered him her hand again once firm on her bare feet. Alex took it and felt Y/N actually pulling at him as he stood; it was not just a polite gesture, she genuinely wanted to help him in that small way.

Despite there being an entire square meter of landing to stand, Alex and Y/N were almost on top of one another. Alex felt her dipping her toes in the water, swimming in his pacific blue eyes. All the while, he searched for the sparks of stars in her pupils – lights in the otherwise dark nights.

“What is it?” asked Alex.

“Do you ever wonder—?” Y/N stopped.

Her eyes closed in resignation, unintentionally showing her hand: she had the words in her head, but she decided she could not share that particular thought. At least not with him. Y/N gently took her hand back and started down the stairs.

Their footfalls echoed around the stairwell.

At the next landing, Y/N started over, “I know Sam probably sent you after me, but thank you. You’re more patient than you should be. I know I can be a lot sometimes. Too much.”

“You’re not too much, Red. Not for me.” Never for me. Even if she was trouble to him, Alex was trouble to everyone, it all balanced out.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me. I’m here because I want to be.”

Y/N opened her mouth, tongue already pressed against her top teeth to make the “th” sound, when she resigned from those words as well. And her smile returned as a soft simper.

Lovely. She was lovely despite the red painted across her cheekbones and nose. Despite the guilt, she so clearly expressed for taking his time. Alex thought Y/N was lovely.

When Y/N smiled for him, did Sammy think that too? When she spoke his name, did Sammy feel he was that much closer to going mad? Did his face heat up whenever she touched his skin?

Maybe Alex was overstepping some boundaries. Maybe he should take that moment in the stairwell of comfort and companionship as all he would get.

Fair enough. Alex could live the rest of his life with just having ever had THAT moment with her. Like how he could forever understand the concept of vanilla even if he never tasted it again.

Alex did not want that.

He liked vanilla whip cream. Its extract in his pancake batter. Vanilla lattes and cappuccinos and to get wasted on shots of vanilla bourbon. To feel cradled in the aroma of vanilla-marshmallow scented candles. And reveal fresh skin after vanilla cream facemasks. He wanted vanilla.

He did not need it to live. Nor thrive. Nonetheless, he wondered how much better his happy days would feel – how less complicated his stressful days would be – if vanilla were a part of them.

“You could be with me.” Alex cleared his throat. “No-uh…what I mean is that you could come to mine and hang out for a bit if you wanted to—to wait out more of the storm with Sammy.”

“Yeah?” Y/N risked a quick side-eye glance.

“I’m not doing anything. Are you…doing anything?”

“No, but I’m not sure if— Sam won’t—” Y/N stuttered and stopped. Features that were relaxed from the contortions of crying began to twist up again. Eyebrows sunk closer. Mouth pulled to one side.

“If you go back in now, won’t the fighting pick right back up?” Walking past the door and two more steps toward the lift, Alex offered an encouraging toss of the head. “Let’s just go, come on.”

A rabbit in the talons of a falcon – paralyzed – Y/N did not move. She stared unsure at Alex for a second then to the door to her apartment. It was still. quiet. Sammy was neither of those things. Y/N dug her teeth into her bottom lip as her gaze hit the floor. Not able to bring herself back to Alex.

“Red?”

“No, I shouldn’t. If we don’t apologize to each other now, things will just be worse later.” Voice hitching on the latter end of the sentence, Y/N paused. She took a deep breath and mustered up some composure. “Thank you for the invite, but I can’t.”

“Alright. Well, it’s an open invitation.”

“Than—Got it.”

It would be ridiculous for him to have been irritated. Completely and utterly ridiculous.

Alex was irritated; he was forced to pretend to be as content with watching her go as he would be having her following him. Though used to babbling in nervous situations, Alex did not feel he could speak more at that moment.

What would be appropriate for him to say?

He left. While Y/N knocked on the door to her apartment without even bothering to try the handle, he mashed the call button incessantly enough to rub part of his fingerprint off his thumb. Within three meters of each other yet completely different headspaces – worlds and hearts apart.

DING of the sliding lift doors. Alex walked in and stood in the corner, leaning against the back wall and looking away until the doors closed again. He did not want to see Sammy and Y/N reunite. He went silent for his ride down. Unfortunately, there was no gentle music to fill the void.

Outside he was normal. Inside he was in a weird place: anxious thoughts built themselves up higher and higher until it was too much. Alex closed his eyes for a moment to block out all other stimuli.

Was it possible that George was right all along? When he said Alex would be a total knob to go after Y/N? When he told him it was better to get trashed and shag someone random than it was to keep dwelling? When he begged him to not. get. involved.?

Caught in his overthinking haze, Alex flew on autopilot as he walked along the hall to his flat and stopped. It was not until he was face-to-face with the number on the door that he recognized he had even left the lift. Alex blinked himself out of his head and into the present just to find a riptide of exhaustion dragging his limp body out to sea. It was too late to start paddling now.

Slinking inside, Alex was not greeted with – as he expected – his flatmate waiting to interrogate him. He anxiously tapped his fingers against his leg while peering around. Besides the usual mess of overturned sofa cushions and PS4 controllers strewn about in the living room, food wrappers on the counters, and the same pan and spatula used for breakfast still in the sink, there was not a sign of George. There was not even the sound of shouting (pre-recorded or otherwise) coming from the short hall to his room.

Smiling and with a tad too much enthusiasm, Alex shut the door and sighed contented.

“You’re alive. Good.” George’s voice sounded from outside his bedroom, ringing in Alex’s ears far before the older stepped into view. George was wearing black jeans and had pulled on proper shoes to cover the thin, dirty white socks he normally trudged around the flat. His hands were buried together in the pouch of his hoodie. It was from the ‘I OWE £37,000 TO THE GOVERNMENT IN TAX FINES’ drop. Untamed hairs curled around his ears, and he wore an indistinct black hat.

“Woulda thought you’d be happy to get rid of me.”

“I’d take a decent trade. Five quid and a Tesco meal deal, maybe.” George’s otherwise stone-hard exterior failed to mask the anxious glint in his salty atlantic eyes. There was more he was not saying.

Moving into the kitchen, Alex leaned back against the countertop. Putting one foot in front of the other, touching heel to toe. He fished his keys from the pocket of his pajama bottoms and dumped them on the counter beside him. “Out with it.”

“Tell me you didn’t do anything daft.”

“‘Course not.” Alex shrugged. “Not sure where you’d get that from.”

“Could you, for once in your life, be straight with me.”

There was a joke to be made there as Alex was never for even one minute of his life straight. However, that felt an inappropriate comment to make amid his flatmate’s concern.

Alex hunched his shoulders closer to his chest subconsciously and murmured an unintelligible response.

“What?” asked George.

“I didn’t do anything, alright. Does that make you happy? I just told Sammy that he and Red will be evicted pretty fucking soon if they keep up the shouting.”

“Told Sammy. So, you didn’t speak to Red?”

“No. Didn’t get the chance; she’d already stormed off by the time I got there.” Alex was a liar and a shit one at that as he shifted his feet and dropped his focus from his flatmate.

George – with his hesitant if not outright suspicious gaze boring through the top of the younger’s skull – waited for Alex to return focus to him before speaking again. He cleared his throat.

“James wants to meet up earlier; get some shots in before hitting the pub.” George turned and took three steps toward his bedroom before stopping and coming back. “Well…go on and get dressed.”

“I’m not sure I feel well enough to go out tonight.” Alex hovered a hand over his stomach to emphasize the point. Not that his flatmate appeared to believe him on that front either.

“Have you been sick?”

“No.”

“You’re fine.” George took Alex’s wrist and pulled his hand from over his stomach. He snatched the keys off the counter and, uncurling Alex’s fingers, forced them into the younger’s hand.

“I can’t.” said Alex. Both men ignored the voice crack on the last word as – while it was telling – it was also nothing terribly unusual in their flat.

“James will be gutted, you know. Are you sure?” George waited for a nod or shake of the head, he got neither. He groaned in frustration and moved to the front door, pulling it open with a bit of a huff, he said, “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“Likewise,” Alex called after him, and with that, he was alone.

It was his natural state, him being alone; at least Alex thought it must have been – surely. Or else he would not have been so often. So maddeningly alone. Alex also thought he deserved it. Whenever his friends rinsed him for being annoying, he knew it was not all a joke. He was aggravating, bothersome.

At least the others could escape it whereas he was always himself.

Humans are social creatures – not meant to be alone – which made the impending lockdown so frightening. Alex would not acknowledge his fear. Moving toward full quarantine was breaking him, but he had been in worse states, much worse, so he would not admit it.

It was another method (like restricting his eating and sleeping) for him to punish himself for just being.

BUZZ. BUZZ. His phone went off. It was a text from George calling him a massive loser for making him take the train by himself. Alex produced a humorous scoff but not a reply.

He spent the next forty-five minutes scrolling through twitter and instagram while preparing and eating a cup of sweet & sour pot noodle. Amidst liking and retweeting, he wondered – for the millionth time – if the posts he saw were perhaps not all putting up fake fronts. What if it was all real?

Maybe everyone was truly happy and beautiful all the time; he did not know.

knock. knock. There was a gentle tapping coming from the front door, muted enough that Alex was not sure if it were real or imagined. Either way, he did not move to stand from where he sat at the table, slurping up the last of the noodles. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Jumping at the second sound, Alex went to the front door. “Red?”

In the hall with her feet planted flat and firm (and now with socks and shoes), Y/N stood with a stern expression. Her features were all a bit pinched. There was a vertical line between her eyebrows. Previous blotchiness was gone, but her nose had newfound redness, and her eyes gleamed wet.

“Are you ok?” Alex was not sure what he saw being projected at him from those bright eyes of hers, but he felt his knees about to buckle. A familiar weakness overtook his limbs. Making him think if he were to roll up the leg of his pajama bottoms, it was sure to reveal hundreds of leeches draining him.

“Why did you come back?” Y/N asked, voice wavering slightly.

“I thought maybe—”

“Don’t bullshit me.” Her words bit the air hard enough to draw blood. “Why did you come back, really?”

“I couldn’t bear to see you upset.”

Their bodies connected as Y/N threw her arms around his neck, and Alex circled his arms around her middle, holding her flush to him. Knit of her jumper pressing into the wrinkles of his shirt from where she had previously balled up the fabric and held on.

She was her, and it was everything he needed. It was her warmth and her solidity and the pull of her bringing him evermore closer. It was all those separately and all those at once, at the same time.

It was an explosion of relief in his chest and of incoherent thoughts in his head. Knowing that what was happening was an undeserved blessing filling him with greater happiness than he could ever return.

Alex was in it: living it. He was not alone. Y/N awakened his heart and his desires and equally his suffering.

It was the mortifying ordeal. It was the tip of a foil bending into his chest. All to be known. All to be near her. And for all the times he joked for death, he wished tenfold for health – for life so that he could bear witness to her even if from the distance of friendship.

Y/N let slack her arms and pulled back a half-step from the embrace, allowing Alex to keep holding on.

Rearing with an amazed chuckle, he asked, “I don’t understand?”

“You said it was an open invitation, wasn’t it?”

Alex nodded.

“Good.” Y/N stepped out of his arms and walked fully into the flat, looking around with a pleasant contemplative smile stretched across her lovely lips. At the table where the empty pot noodle container sat tipped over with the metal fork in it, she grazed her fingers across the dark wood.

“I’ll be right back.” He waited for a nod of recognition and then headed to his bedroom. Alex squatted down – an action that created a horrific popping sound from his knees – and pulled open the bottom drawer of his side table. It was brimming over with miscellaneous wires and cables, scissors, tape, loose lego pieces as well as football pins. He stirred around the contents of the drawer.

Upon his return, he saw Y/N sitting in the middle of the sofa, resting her head back and looking at the ceiling. For how still she was and how soft her breathing, he might have thought she was asleep, that is if not for the open eyes with the distant gaze. Walking around to the coffee table, Alex picked up the remote and switched the television on, setting it to stream youtube.

“I thought we could watch a playlist I collected. If you wanted.” Alex tried to hide the assurance-seeking tone to his voice as he spoke. “I promise it’s actually funny and not like roblox playthroughs.”

Y/N brought her focus to him and pulled one leg up, hugging it close to herself. “Seems like an awfully lofty thing to promise. It’s not a compilation of your own videos, is it?”

“No. Not this one anyway.”

Alex sat down, and Y/N resituated herself to be half a cushion from him. It was a fair enough reaction though it did make him feel a bit shit, especially after their affectionate embrace, not ten minutes earlier.

He hit the start button on the playlist. Sitting next to Y/N, even half a cushion away, felt like lying on his balcony with the sun on his face. Not a blaring spotlight of sun. A comfortable softbox sun that warmed his neck and arms and soul. As the playlist went on, Alex found himself sneaking longer and longer glances at the woman beside him.

Y/N giggled throughout the first and second videos, mostly biting her lip to keep herself from being loud until a joke made at the start of the third video sent her over the edge. She could no longer hold out laughing as she tossed her head back and outright cackled. It might have been embarrassing for her, but to Alex, it was cute. It was passion, and he liked seeing her face light up like that: pure and uninhibited.

Moving next to Alex, Y/N rolled her head to the side and rested it on his shoulder. Their faces were incredibly close – she was breathtaking, and he was on the verge of losing consciousness.

“Is this ok?” Y/N gazed up at him.

Alex wanted her to look at him like that forever, even if he was scared to see it. That thing like hope in her eyes. It was distinct, softer than how anyone had ever looked at him. Asking more than her words did, asking for more than just his words return. “Yes.”

It was natural: her and him. Y/N weaved her arm around his and held it with both her hands as she lazily returned her focus to the television. Alex did not; he was focused on something else.

On her left forearm were five circular bruises: four in a line up the arm and the fifth alone on the other side. While the red discolouration was not painful looking, the purple undertones marked prominent against her skin. It reminded him.

“Red?”

“Hmm?” she hummed.

Alex stuck his hand in the pocket of his pajama bottoms and fished out the trinket he found in the drawer of his side table – simple beads on a stretchy string. A beautiful gradient of colour from white to pastel blue to royal blue to black. Tied off with a bow. He peeled one of Y/N’s hands from his arm and pulled the bracelet over, lying it carefully on her wrist.

“Wow,” Y/N pulled away from his side and held her hand out, beaming at the bracelet and then at him. “Did you make this?”

“No. A fan gifted it to me at VidCon a while back, but I wanted to give you something, and looking at it now, it made me think of you.” He smiled a hesitant half-smile. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“I really like it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Red.” Alex saw how Y/N twisted up her face at his words, and he frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I like it. I do. It’s just, you don’t have to call me that. Red. No one really calls me that but Sam because he’s proud to have come up with it, I think. Could you—would you mind terribly, just using Y/N?”

Alex gave a slight nod. “That’s something I can do.”

Without another word, Y/N settled into him as, on-screen, the playlist continued. Emboldened with some unknown confidence, she lay her head on his chest. Alex was slow to react, but he eventually wrapped his arm around her and laced the fingers of his outermost hand with hers.

It was a release of all the tenderness and affection that he had been storing in his heart with no real outlet. And it felt like his ribcage was close to concaving into him. Alex had so much to give, yet all Y/N seemed to want was him, his company, his warm hand enclosing her own.

“I think I should tell you something.” He used his free hand to pick at a loose fuzz on his pajama bottoms. “I’m not gay. I know that’s how Sammy understands it, but I’m actually bisexual.”

Y/N blew out a long sigh through pursed lips and finished it with, “I know; I figured as much.”

“Does that ruin this?” Alex fought the urge to swipe the welling tears in his eyes.

“I don’t want it to.”

“Me neither.”

The playlist finished, and the screen idled, waiting for further action. Neither moved. Resting in the quiet of their gentle almost whispered conversation, Y/N nuzzled her cheek into the fabric of Alex’s shirt.

Voice laden with exhaustion, she said, “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel like you’re someone I’ve always been missing. I just didn’t know it. Thank you for coming back.”

Giving in, Y/N closed her eyes, and her breathing evened into an easy rhythm. Alex leaned in and placed a kiss to her hair, quick and chaste, and let her sleep. Wishing he would have come up with something, words like hers, to express it – what he knew all along.

Taglist: (message to join!) @angelbabyivy @eboysimp @trhtshonf @jaythegay92

#imallexx #imallexx imagine #imallexx x reader #imallexx x self-insert #alex elmslie #alex elmslie imagine #alex elmslie x reader #alex x self-insert #Internet sensation #commentary crew #eBoys #memeulous #george memeulous

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cuddlepilefics · 4 years ago

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Whumptober Day 25 – Cranky

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Minho

Caregiver: maknae-line

Minho’s POV.:

I woke up to the yelling of my younger band members, why do they always have to fight the each other the second they get up? My head hurt and I silently curse them before peeling myself out of the sheets. I leave my room still wearing the shorts and t-shirt I slept in. Actually it were only Hyunjin, Jisung and Felix up though it had sounded like many more people. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Can‘t you act like any other normal human being once? It‘s freaking early, maybe some people want to sleep in on their day off“, god did they piss me off. They looked up at me like a dear caught in headlights from where they had Hyunjin tackled to the floor. “Sorry, Hyung we got carried away a bit“, Felix stumbled. He was the first to collect himself, the other two were still frozen in shock. “Just keep it down now“, I rolled my eyes before returning to my room with a bottle of water from the fridge. Sitting back down on my bed I press the cool bottle against my temple and heave a sigh of relieve as it dulls the thumping in my skull for a moment. After drinking a few sips I decide to lay down for a few more minutes since it is our day off and I don‘t have to get up anytime soon anyways.

Felix‘ POV.:

My heart stopped when Minho walked in on us wrestling on the livingroom floor. Hyunjin and Jisung must have felt the same because they just started moving again when Minho-hyung was gone. Jisung quietly got up offering Hyunjin a hand before whispering: “Wow, what was that about?“ I shrugged and Hyunjin whispered back: “Let‘s just play video games and try to be quiet. I don‘t want to wake up anyone else and maybe start a fight in the morning.“ We agreed and soon our other members got up too. Chan started making breakfast and we started bickering before Hyunjin shushed everyone: “Guys, please try and not wake Minho up. We accidentally did earlier and he was really pissed.“ After a while Chan gathered us all to eat breakfast but one member was still missing. “So, how are you planning to spend your day“, Chan asked. We had all been looking forward to today and 3racha wanted to go to a few music-stores to get inspiration for future songs. Hyunjin wanted to meet up with Jinyoung and Jaebeom-sonbaenim of GOT7 who had offered to practice some dances with him. Seungmin, Jeongin and I just wanted to stay home and have a relaxed day watching movies. The stress had been hard on us and even though we were the maknaes and usually very energetic we just needed to chill once. We cleared the table and my hyungs went to get ready for going out. We maknaes offered to do the dishes since we had nowhere to go and some time to spare. From my place in front of the sink I could hear Changbin and Minho get into a heated discussion in the hallway before Minho trudged into the kitchen. There was dead silence when he grabbed some leftover breakfast and sat down at the table. My dongsaengs looked at me with wide eyes, their faces reading:

What‘s gotten into Minho-hyung?

I shrugged, apparently he hadn’t slept his sour mood from earlier off. When we finished the dishes we went to my room and discussed what we‘d want to do with our day. After a while Chan stuck his head in to tell us Hyunjin was already gone and they‘d be heading out now too. “Hyung, what about Minho? Is he going out, is he staying in?“, Seungmin asked. “Ah, Minho. He‘s going to stay here too.“ – “Don‘t leave us here alone with him. We‘ll probably be dead when you get home“, I frowned. All I saw of Minho-hyung today was him being angry, he must have woken up in a bad mood. “You‘ll be fine. He‘s just in a bit of a mood today. As long as you don‘t bother him nothing will happen“, our leader chuckled at my dramatization. Seungmin frowned too but wished Chan fun before the latter left.

Minho‘s POV.:

Sadly, when I woke up the second time, my headache had only gotten worse. I heard the commotion in front of my door and figured everyone else was up already. Venturing out of my room I almost got knocked over by Changbin. Why can‘t this guy look where he‘s going? He answered my snap in an attitude and we were soon fighting before I simply pushed past him and went to search for some breakfast. Apparently I missed breakfast but there were some leftovers. I frowned at the maknaes standing in the kitchen, luckily they didn‘t acknowledge my presence and I was able to eat in peace. On the way back to my room I ran into Chan who informed me that everyone except for the maknea-line was heading out today. I suppressed a grimace, at least till I crashed on my bed, cursing quietly. Why won‘t the universe let me have some peace and quiet? Pressing my head in my pillow, I squeezed my eyes shut. I had started to see some weird shapes and tried to blink them away, to no avail. I groaned, turning onto my back and throwing my arm over my eyes. Having breakfast was a bad idea and I was starting to regret it now as it sat heavily in my stomach. Wrapping my arms around my churning tummy I allowed some silent tears to fall. I had so been looking forward to just enjoy a day without schedule and now I was miserable. Maybe some painkillers would help but that would mean I’d have to get up and go to the bathroom, I might even run into someone on the way there. I didn’t want to see anyone, my energy for confrontations was used up.

After half an hour I knew I couldn’t take the pain anymore. I forced myself up and held onto the walls for support as I stumbled to the bathroom. Passing by Felix’ room I could hear the maknaes giggle and felt a little stab of jealousy. All my members were having fun and I was here, sick, lonely and in pain. At least if they were busy they wouldn’t bother me I told myself and squinted as the bright light reflected by the bathroom mirror hit my eyes. I took two pills out of the bottle in the bathroom-cabinet and swallowed them dry. I’d just drink something when I’m back in my room, luckily I had the presence of mind to take a bottle of water with me earlier. The light that stabbed my eyes had made the pain worse so I closed my eyes and felt my way back with my hands on the walls, stumbling along blindly. After taking a few sips of water I flopped back down onto the mattress and pulled the blanket over my head. Please just let the medicine kick in quickly.

Jeongin’s POV.:

We had been playing games in Felix’ room for a while only making small trips to the kitchen to grab snacks. After a while we got bored and wanted to change to a different game. Very inconveniently, it was in Seungmin’s room. More accurately, the room Seungmin and Minho shared. Given the events of the morning, Seungmin didn’t really dare enter his own room and was trying his hardest to convince Felix to go and get the game from his desk. Felix wasn’t having it: “No, he already scolded me this morning. I’m not going to piss him off again.” – “Why would you piss him off? You don’t even have to talk to him”, Seungmin argued. “Well if it’s not that bad, why don’t you go get it? It’s your room too, after all” – “Hyung, please”, begged Seungmin hugging Felix tightly. “Innie, could you get it? Minho’s never going to be angry at you. Nobody could be angry at our cute maknae. Pretty please?” Felix smiled and I sighted. I didn’t think I really had a choice if I wanted to play that game since my hyungs didn’t seem to get over their fear anytime soon. Besides, what reason would Minho-hyung have to be mad at me? It’s not like I did anything and I’d only be a second to grab the game and leave again.

I took a deep breath and ventured to the door of his room, knocking gently. The door opened shortly after and Minho appeared with a frown on his face. I got scared for a second, forgetting what I had wanted to say. “Umm, h-hyung, I just wanted t-to…”, I stumbled but didn’t manage to get much further. Minho had shoved me aside and pushing past me he just disappeared. I stood there in complete shock not being able to make any sense of his actions. Still standing frozen in the doorway, I heard some retching from the bathroom down the hall. That shook me out of my stupor and I hurried over there quickly. What I found there broke my heart, Minho was standing over the toilet clutching his head with tears streaming down his face. I tentatively reached out a hand and placed it on his back, starting to rub soft circles as I didn’t get a disapproving reaction. He gagged dryly between two sobs before bringing up some of his breakfast. Being thrown of balance he stumbled and I quickly caught him with one hand across his chest. I gently lowered him to his knees as he started to sway harder. “Hyung, is this a migraine?”, I whispered in case my assumption was right. He only managed a small nod before he ducked his head further into the bowl as a retch brought up a larger wave. I cringed in sympathy and looked away, trying to keep my hand on his back as steady as possible. Alerted by the commotion Seungmin stuck his head into the bathroom, eyes widening in realization at why our hyung had been so cranky today. I quickly raised my finger to my lips before pointing at my head, indicating he should be quiet for the sake of Minho-hyungs headache. He crouched down next to us. “Want me to take over? You could get some water and make sure Lixxie stays away”, he whispered in my ear and we quickly changed spots. I was glad my hyung had taken over since I was slowly feeling queasy myself. Hurrying to the kitchen I shortly ducked into Felix’ room informing him about what was going on and assuring him that we had it handled and that it was ok for him to put on his headphones. Because honestly, if we had another member being sympathy sick, we soon wouldn’t have it handled anymore. I returned to the bathroom with a bottle of water and an ice pack that I wrapped into a towel before handing it to Seungmin who placed it at the back of Minho’s neck, gently holding it in place dry heaved. There was barely anything for him to bring up anymore but his stomach didn’t seem to accept that. Hearing his sobs as every dry retch sent a shock wave of pain through his skull made my heart clench. I’ve had migraines before too and I knew how the vomiting just makes the pain worse. “Hyung just try to take deep breaths, there is nothing left”, Seungmin whispered barely audible. Right then Minho gagged up a small trickle of bile causing Seungmin to sigh. Standing next to the sink I awkwardly scratch my neck trying to think of something useful to do. That’s when it hit me and I quickly turned around to turn off the light, leaving the door open just a crack to let in enough light from the hallway for us to see but too little to cause my hyung trouble. After a few minutes the retches died down and I handed him the bottle to rinse his mouth. He did, taking a few tentative sips before handing it back to me. Seungmin gently pulled him away from the toilet and let him rest against his chest while shifting the ice pack onto Minho’s forehead. The latter whimpered a bit and I felt pretty uneasy seeing my usually sarcastic and sassy hyung reduced to this. “Hyung, do you want to go back to your bed? I’m sure it’s much more comfortable there”, I asked quietly while crouching in front of the pair on the bathroom floor. “Can’t”, he replied barely audible and Seungmin assured: “We’ll help you, hyung. Don’t worry!” So I grabbed Minho under the arms and with Seungmin supporting his back we managed to get him onto his feet. He whimpered and clutched onto my arms, swaying dangerously. We pulled his arms around our necks to support him from both sides before making our way to his room at a painfully slow pace. Arriving there Minho crawled straight into his bed pulling his pillow over his head. “’m sorry”, he said muffled by the fabric. Seungmin sat down next to him stroking his arm: “Hyung you don’t have to be sorry” – “Was an asshole earlier. It just hurts so bad, I can’t take it anymore. I think I’m going crazy”, he sniffled miserably. “It’s ok. Had you told us though, we would have had a chance to understand. We had no idea”, Seungmin replied calmly. Next to me the door opened slowly and Felix stepped in, headphones dangling around his neck. He carried a fresh ice pack, a cup of ginger tea, a plate with some crackers and the bottle of painkillers. “Hyung, I got you some tea to settle your stomach”, Felix said in a low voice placing the cup onto the bedside-table. “Thanks Lixxie”, he whispered, slowly removing the pillow from his face. “There are also painkillers and some crackers to eat with them, when you’re feeling up for it later. I’ll just put them on your desk for when you’re ready”, he continued stepping closer and placing the fresh ice pack over Minho’s eyes, earning a sigh of relief from the older. Seungmin remained in his spot on the edge of the bed, scratching Minho’s scalp lightly and Felix, who had placed the crackers and pill-bottle onto the desk, returned with the trash can setting it down next to the bed quietly.

We made ourselves a home on the other beds in the room and soundlessly played games on our phones while watching over our hyung who was drifting in and out of sleep. At some point he had nibbled some crackers before washing two pills down with the now lukewarm tea. When the medicine kicked in he was finally able to rest easier but we still stayed in case he needed us, texting the rest of our members about the situation asking them to be really quiet when coming back and asking them to maybe pick up some stronger painkillers on their way. I didn’t think any of us imagined that we’d spend our free day like this but personally, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Looking at the two younger of my hyungs, I knew they felt the same.

#sick #sickfic #skz #stray kids #lee know #lee minho #fanfic #whumptober #whumptober2020

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huntsman-ash · 4 years ago

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LiveThoughts: RWBY V8E6

Second attempt at this since last time Chrome just DIED for no reason...

Im going to put literally the entire thing with Cinder under one note; Called it.

Its a great set of stuff, sure, but it doesnt relaly tell us anything we didnt already know about Cinder, and I personally feel it doesnt really explain why she turned out the way she did. I feel like we’ve had another weird twist of the situation again...M+K? Coronas fault? Who knows. Either way, this section isnt great by my taste and I kinda skipped most of it.

Few things to note though; Apperently in Mistral scrubbing by hand is still more viable floor cleaning tech than using Dust.

The wind vane on the roof has the Rooster Teeth symbols rooster on it.

The hotel Cinder is bought by is named the Glass Unicorn, fittingly enough for...several reasons.

The coffees behind the stepsisters when we first see them are the animated versions of the real life stuff RT put out just before this season went live.

No one seems to notice the fact cinder has orange eyes. I wonder if weird eye colors are just a THING in Remnant?

The control collar/shock thing is incredibly inefficient in design, since it doesnt actually hold on to her very well. A more effective brace/choker design would have worked better.

The song that goes on during all of this is...kind of obvious and a little bland? Fitting for younger Cinder I guess.

Mmm. Random greasy huntsman.

I guess in Atlas its fine to laugh at struggling teenagers?

Im going to assume there’s a 3+ year gap here where she gets older, cause she stops being smol and gets closer to how we see her now.

Also even here, in Atlas...really? The most effective way to clean these carpeted floors is to have a TEENAGER SCRUB THEM BY HAND?

How do you scrub...I assume its carpet anyway?

And how you tell civilians are lame in Atlas; they are impressed...by a sword. Just a sword. A boring, half-cut sword. Losers.

I assume this would be Cinder’s semblance manifesting. Also note on the desk; “we do not serve faunus”. Well THAT doesnt surprise me.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHE. Get fucked Cinder. HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

I dont even feel pity for her, this is funny to me. Also the fact that this kind of shit aCTUALLY EXISTS is...amusing to me. Like, really? So I guess indentured servitude is a thing in Remnant too.

And this is why Cinder likes to use swords. Really. Wow. LAMEO.

Huh. Dual maces. Interesting. Thats a prety cool weapon. Looks like they open up too. Bet he could bash some skulls with that.

“Hurting them isnt going to make your life any better”. Um, excuse me? I think hurting them is the very best thing to do in this situation. At least, for the moment anyway.

Huh. So she’s ten at this point? Even as a child, shes older than she looks.

And training montage. Huh. Or at least I assume it is. I get the feeling being able to go where you want too and do what you want too is the main reason Hunters exist. There must be crazy tight immigration laws...or, maybe, its just that traveling between kingdoms is stupid dangerous cause of Grimm. I think the latter is most likely considering every form of public transit extra-kingdom we’ve seen (even between cities, see Argus Limited) has some kind of defensive weaponry. Limited and ineffective, for th emost part oddly.

So you can take the exam at 18. Okay cool. Pre-that must be prep school. Wonder what happens if you wash out? Also I like how this dude is just “yeah, 7 years of training, we got this.”

I think this is the first time we’ve seen the other side of the moon. Or at least, the proper other side...bloody hell I STILL dont know how all those piesces are still held in place, the thing looks like it should start yeeting bolides at Remnant.

Better still we see it MOVE, rotate in time to the passing of years. So it literally does rotate on its own axis, and more importantly, unlike OUR moon, its NOT tidally locked. We only ever see the same side of our moon. REmnants rotates MUCH faster. Also it doesnt seem to have phases like ours does. I’ll check on why that is.

Well at least we have an explanation for why Cinders so damn good at fighting people. Trained by an Atlas Huntsman.

Also as a note the device is quite literally just an electrical Dust crystal attached to a necklace. Things the most inefficent torture device Ive ever fucking seen.

Wonder how often they have to change the crystal.

And there goes the moon rotating again.

I like how NO ONE comment on the blade going missing and that guy never came back for it. I guess he must have just bought a new one.

I get the very distinct feeling they wont just let her go honestly, permission or not.

AWWW WE DONT EVEN GET TO SEE CINDER MURDER THE SISTERS. Also no blood. Odd. Good kill on the stepmother though. Oh, that NECK CRACK. I like how all the bitch can do is try and shock Cinder, like, uh...adrenaline up? SHE HAS A SWORD? MAYBE FIGHT BACK?

Hah. Weak ass fuckin Atlas people. Also the clock going off in the back ground twelve times. How fitting. Welcome to midnight.

Also shes kind of glowing here cause the room is dark, and I find it amusing this is probably the last time she wears white.

And THERES the Cinder we know

Sick ass music, cool. Also THAT is an interesting semblance...I guess he turns himself to metal? Also DAMN his aura broke after THAT? Hes a Huntsman...ah who cares. Again probably in Cinders memory more than anything. Which at this point is probably about as reliable as a coked up hookers.

SHANKED. Sucker. You shoulda seen THAT one coming.

And thats all it took to get the shock collar off. Lol.

So what happened to the hotel? Did they just...write it off? I mean four people got murdered in there...

And now we’re back on the whale. HOW THE SCREAMING FUCK DID CINDER JUST...

Wow. She just got up after eating that blast. Fucking plot armor.

Merc making the hard calls honestly. Im actually gonna watch all of this now which is nice because I want to know whats happening in the real world. PITY MORE THAN HALF THE EPISODE WAS THIS FUCKING FILLER.

I like how Cinder just...goes quiet the moment she realizes shes lost Mercury. Not that he was USEFUL mind you but if I had to guess she liked being the boss. But now shes...basically back where she started.

So the whale is basically a ship. It has a bridge. Probably Salems throne room.

Man, Oscars literally just RTs punching bag this season isnt he? Literally in this case.

His clothes are still scortched too which I find interesting. The black eyes also staying. Auras not back up then? Aura repair and regen seems...werid half the time. Like RT does what they want with it.

Ah so someone finally says it...but at the same time what exactly does Salem have to fear? If she cant fight the whole world...what could they do? Maybe overwhelming her? It...Im having a hard time putting the “she cant be stopped” with “shes afraid of fighting all of Remnant”.

Somethings missing here. I know it.

The sound of the “door” opening reminds me of the Flood doors in High Charity in Halo 3s Cortana. Fleshy twisting.

Mention from Hazel, but AGAIN...no details. I guess if you nail down how she can do stuff its harder to write?

Glad someone made a comment on the futility of the Hunter academies.

I really hate how Salems giving us creepy mommy shades.

Hmm. So yeah the bridge IS the throne room/command deck. I like how Neo doesnt give a fuck is just casually kneeling.

Ah okay THATS why he grabbed the scroll.

Heh. Interesting. How exactly does this work I wonder.

...Why does Salem have a ring. Has she always had that ring?

Neo looking at the Hound like “oh, I could ride this thing”.

Oh cool the Ace Ops. And they’re arguing, shocker. Sounds like Elm doesnt trust tech either. No shock there. Idiot.

Atlas elite. Yeah, right.

Huh, is this a Manta with landing gear? I guess they do have them...seems kind of silly to have them so high up though. I guess thats what the thing under the door is for, so they can deploy a ramp. Man, I really dont like Atlas’s airship design.

Hare needs some fuckin suppresants.

Annnnddd...here we go, things go straight to hell. I was warned of this. I am going to try and not be mad...but from what Ive heard the incomptence of the military in this particular section is astronomical.

Huh. So...Grimm can be convirted into a rock-punching liquid? Interesting. Has that always been a thing or... Also why the fuck are you jsut standing there in awe, go kill the fucking thing! Fucking Specialists.

...that is all it took to get through Atlas’s shield? THAT?

I also love how no one does anything. Ironwoods like “wait what the fuck”. Come on bro.

And...thats the Atlas navy. Everyone. Two lasers. One of which missed. Remind me again what exactly these things are used to shoot?

Wait, no, that took down part of it, and then the rest is, surprise, hitting the soft rock on the outside.

THERE goes the shield.

Hang on a second, how long have those giant squid things been there?

And...what. The whale just approaches, nothing happens? You’ve got 12 fucking ships there, shoot the fucking thing.

Again, WHY IS NO ONE DOING ANYTHING?

Oh, it just beach-headed. Okay fine, whatever.

Im not really worried.

Lets see how RT makes this WORSE though...

And thats this weeks episode.

#rwby #rwby v8 #spoilers #rwby spoilers

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merakiaes · 5 years ago

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Something New - Steve Rogers

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Requested: By @me-mah-hah

Prompts: #29 on the smut-list.

Warnings/notes: Smut! Oral, female-receiving. I had to cut it a bit short because I wouldn’t have been able to if I continued and I have lots of writing to get done but I hope this is okay! Otherwise, feel free to request something else. Let me know what you think!

Wordcount: 1227

Summary: Steve and yourself are polar opposites, as you have lots of tattoos and piercings. Just some quick oral where he notices something new.

Steve Rogers was a real golden boy. He had manners, always respected people until given a concrete reason not to and was always sharp and clean looking. You were the same on the first two things but the last one? Not so much.

You had tattoos covering pretty much every inch of your skin, piercings littered your face and a few places on your body and you were planning to get even more of the latter. You were as different as day and night, the sun and the moon.

Maybe one would think it would discourage you that the two of you were so different, that you would feel self-conscious and be scared that eventually, he would find someone who was better in the eyes of the part of society that still looked down on people with body modifications.

But you knew how Steve viewed different, you knew how much he loved every piece of you, and this made you more confident that he wouldn’t leave you for someone ‘normal’, rather than the opposite.

He showed you every day how beautiful he thought you were, whether it be by telling you, or showing you by tracing the numbers and letters of your smaller tattoos, twisting and spinning your piercings, or filling in the black and grey tattoos on your arms with colored markers during really boring days.

Nothing and no one could break you apart and both of you knew it, which was how you were able to be so comfortable and open with each other, in every way there was, including sex.

Now, everyone knows intimate relations had been a touchy subject for Steve because of the person he had been before he was transformed into a super-soldier; the person he was at heart. But that all changed when he met you.

Behind closed doors, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, bringing you to where you were now: a regular Saturday night, after a night out with the team, finally getting each other to yourselves.

Your hands worked on the buttons of Steve’s denim shirt while his worked on the ones on your denim skirt, your neck stretched out against the pillow to give him the access he needed to leave open-mouthed kissed against your jugular.

You raked your nails against his bare chest after finishing the last button, then proceeding to push the soft fabric off his shoulder. Steve finished with your skirt just then and you lifted yourself slightly to allow him to pull the skirt from under you and throw it to the side, before he helped you take off the shirt and do the same with that.

Your already bare upper body shivered as his fingers started trailing up your inner thighs, your head falling back into the pillow as your hands moved to work on his belt, unbuckling it with one swift movement and practically ripping down the zipper in anticipation.

If you hadn’t been so riled up, you were sure Steve would’ve laughed at your eagerness and impatience, but now he just helped you push the jeans down his hips and off his legs to the floor, taking his boxers with them and leaving him stark naked.

He started kissing down your neck, down the valley of your breasts, stopping for a moment to suck on each of your pierced nipples, the small pieces of jewelry making a rattling noise when hitting his teeth, before moving on down your inked stomach, stopping only when reaching the edge of your panties.

Despite being just as eager as you, if not even more, Steve stopped and looked up at you from his place between your legs, asking you with his eyes if you were sure like he did every time before doing anything to you.

You could only nod your head, not trusting your voice enough to speak as you were sure he didn’t either, and only a second later, Steve had rid you of your black lacy panties and moved in. But he stopped suddenly, eyes inspecting your womanhood closely for a second before looking up at you with a soft grin.

“This is new.” He spoke then, his voice breathless and barely even there.

Realization lit up your face for a second as you realized you hadn’t told him about your new piercing, before re-gaining your composure and biting your lip seductively. “Do you like it?”

He offered you a grin back, telling you a sincere: “I love it.”, before putting his mouth to your heat and going to work, pushing the tongue past your already slick folds and licking a large strip along your core.

“Steve.” You moaned at the feeling, your hands instantly moving to grab at his blonde hair, successfully messing up his neatly styled hair.

He hummed slightly in response, the vibrations going through your clit in a way that made your heart feel like it was about to thump out of your chest. He grabbed a hold of your thighs, lifting your legs over his shoulders to get better access, continuing to massage the inside of your thighs as he moved his tongue to the sensitive bud, flicking it once to test the waters.

When you released a long moan, your legs shaking at the feeling of butterflies bursting through your stomach and chest, Steve flicked his tongue again, murmuring into your heat. “Does that feel good, doll?”

You moaned again at the sound of the nickname, getting even more turned on by the way his voice was muffled from bringing you pleasure. You opened your mouth, but found yourself unable to speak as his tongue flicked over the small bundle of nerves once more, only squeezing his head with your legs gently to give him the answer he needed.

And then he really went to work, flicking his tongue back and forth and around in circles, creating the perfect pattern and order of movements to have you shaking underneath him in no time. You were a moaning mess about five minutes in, the only thing keeping you from trashing your legs around as you neared your orgasm being Steve’s strong hands keeping you in place.

And then he sucked down on the new piercing, and suddenly, before you had even registered what he had done, you were gone down a spiral of never-ending pleasure as you tumbled over the edge, an orgasm unlike any other rocking your entire body, causing Steve to hold on even tighter to your thighs, which in turn increased your orgasm even more.

You moaned repeatedly as the orgasm ran through you, Steve continuing to suck on the piercing and your clit as you rode through it, not stopping once despite your legs practically crushing his skull, until your body was relaxed again, indicating you were done.

Steve came back up to you and you laughed slightly as you caught sight of his slightly wet face, bringing your hands up to wipe his lips so that you could lean in for a kiss without becoming too sticky.

When you broke apart, a small smirk rested on Steve’s lips. “I think that new piercing is going to be very useful.”

And then he surprised you by flipping you around without any effort whatsoever, welcoming you into a long night of pleasure unlike anything you had ever felt before.

#avengers #avengers imagine #avengers smut #avengers one shot #avengers x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel one shot #marvel #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader

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cloudbattrolls · 4 years ago

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It Runs in the Family

Etuuya Vannyn & Rhomox Vannyn || 181 sweeps ago || Kaningård Cavern

Tuuya yanked the millipede off the rock, enjoying the feeling of its many feet against their hands. It struggled, every twitch of the segmented body followed by the bright green eyes, the ears tilted upward in fascination.

They started to press on it with a finger, then stopped. They held out their other hand and dropped it into their dark palm, and when Rhomox nodded they ripped it in two. The pieces dropped to the floor with barely a sound, wriggling a bit before they died as the ichor dripped everywhere.

“How was that?” They said proudly, wiping their hands on a paper towel lying nearby for the purpose. “Pretty good, right?

The two Vannyns stood in a small room in the cavern, one covered with a fine layer of dust. The lamps were old-fashioned, not the newer, more efficient ones that filled most of the other caves.

Rhomox stood tall - Tuuya didn’t know the numbers, their ancestor was simply tall, like the rock was hard and the mother grub gave life - his arms crossed, his stubbled face neutral but his eyes sharp with awareness. He nodded.

They sighed.

“You do it then! If I’m so boring.”

“There’s no point for me.” The other jade said, looking down as he typed notes on a tablet. “I don’t need to prepare.”

“Do it for fun, old man!” Said the child, singsong. “You’re more dull than the matrons. Are you trying to grow a beard? It doesn’t look good.”

Rhomox didn’t look up once, the quiet tapping of his fingers the only response.

Tuuya scowled, looking him up and down as they tapped their foot impatiently. Fine.

They walked around to his back, slowly, surely.

The child leapt on him and scrabbled up to his shoulders, breaking off a horn tine before he flung them off onto the floor.

“Tuuya.” He said, looking them, voice danger-soft. “This is unacceptable. You have to learn control.”

They sniffed in annoyance, wiping blood off their forehead. It hurt, but who cared? He’d been ignoring them.

“Teach me then! Actually teach me, Lifeweaver, you can write later. Let me practice with a troll. A mutant! I want a mutant. It can talk to me while I do it.” They grinned, imagining one begging like it was a person, looking at them, pleading for mercy.

Finally, someone else to speak with - for a little while, until they were done.

“No.” Rhomox stated plainly and dismissively, looking down again. “Control is dealing with not getting what you want. You won’t always be able to kill when you make a discovery. You need to be willing - “

“ - and able, but not overeager.” Finished the five sweep old, dutifully if boredly. “Why? Why would we need to spare a mutant or lime?”

“Scientific reasons.” That hated dismissive note as he typed again. Tap, tap, tap.

Tuuya’s eyes narrowed.

“Would you experiment on them too?” They asked, suspicious. Jealous fists clenched in the pockets of their skirt. “They’re not worth it. They’re not even special. You’ve got me. You don’t need any other subjects.”

Lifeweaver Rhomox looked down at the wide-eyed, irate pupa that shared his genes. He’d looked into many such pairs of eyes over the sweeps, all of them blending together. He had forgotten most of the names of the failed Vannyns, putting them in the case notes and otherwise consigning them to the scrap heap of memory.

Etuuya. Would he wind up forgetting that name too? Would their passion waver as time went on, like so many others’ had?

They were possessive. That was useful. They were also impatient and aggressive, and the latter would only be worth his time if he could channel it properly. The base of the ripped off tine bled gently jade, hurting with a deep aching pulse, but he wasn’t about to show weakness in front of the child. They’d act on it.

He had so much else to do besides tend to their complaints. In order to prepare the worms, to breed the kind that would finally meld into a successful replacement for the host body, he needed to run many, many more trials to be sure they would integrate properly when the child was of age.

A pity it had been necessary to kill the original host. The more he found out, the more he realized he didn’t know about the parasitic creatures. Thrilling, yet frustrating.

Rhomox also felt a strange sense of loss - it had been a fascinating creature, almost indistinguishable from a real troll, and he had slain it. Perhaps it had been the only one of its kind.

“Helloooo? Lifeweaver? Old man? Rhomox?”

Annoying as the present was, he forced himself back into it, realizing he was being repeatedly prodded in the side with a small finger. He kicked Etuuya away, the young jade wailing like a dying cat as they skidded on the rocky floor, and finished his notes.

“I’m going to crack open your skull.” They hissed, struggling to get up. “I’m going to rip your muscles apart like I did to that millipede. You wait.”

Then their expression turned joyous, almost euphoric.

“No! I’m going to cut you up, piece by piece, until there’s nothing of you left to feel, not even a teeny bit of your thinkpan. How do you feel about that, old man?”

He eyed them.

“Time consuming and pointless. You’d be better off slitting my throat.”

“Boring.” They complained. “But I guess you’re right. If I find something while I’m in the matrons’ heads, I’ll have to be quick.”

They skipped up to him, tugging on his long hair.

“I bet I can kick harder than you. I bet I could smash your face in.”

“Try it.”

The smile faded for just an instant before it came back, if with a touch of fear.

“Not NOW - you’d see it coming, even dozy old you!”

Rhomox smiled for the first time since they had started, and his descendant smiled with him, ears fluttering in relief.

“Good. Learn to strategize. You don’t always want to tip off a matron by taking control and culling the grub right away. They might be part of a bigger conspiracy. If you stay in their head observing for a while before reporting, you could learn far more. The health of trollkind will be in your hands, child.”

“The health of trollkind...” they murmured. “I’ll make it SO healthy. All the strongest trolls, no weak ones, just like the empress wants. She’ll be proud of me.”

They looked up at him, face nearly expressionless, but clearly expectant.

Rhomox gave no acknowledgment.

Tuuya’s face fell, but their ancestor looked straight ahead, thinking of his own plans. They trailed behind him as he walked out of the room back into the open halls, furious and determined in the sharp shadows cast by the newer lamps.

They’d make him be proud of them.

Everyone else might treat them like filth, say they came out wrong for a jade, but Rhomox understood them. He would see how amazing they were.

If he didn’t, they’d put a worm in him too. Then he wouldn’t have a choice.

Humming happily, the younger Vannyn skipped along, the pieces of dead millipede drying in their wake.

#child Tuuya was a demon baby #cloud writes #etuuya Vannyn #Rhomox Vannyn #Vannyns have severe empathy issues by nature unfort #that + eugenicist hellscape means they tend to turn out evil #tw child abuse #not that tuuya sees it that way but still

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scoophilia · 4 years ago

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Night Fury-Others

“You ready?” Toothless asked. I stiffly nodded. He smiled before he leapt up onto the entrance. Basket and all. I gulped. He shot me another smile then disappeared.

“Guess that means it's my turn,” I mumbled.

Body low to the ground, I pushed up with all my might. My claws caught the stone grooves. Kicking my back legs, I tried to pull myself up. My claws slipped out the grooves. I barely caught my breath as Toothless grabbed hold of my paws. He pulled me all the way up. I squeezed my eyes shut. Body stiffened. Preparing myself for the worst.

“Heh, same thing happened to me ages ago. This ledge is pretty hight.”

I opened my eyes.

Soft sunlit eyes looked down on me. Toothless smiled. My whole body seemed to melt. I quickly shake my head and said, “yes, yes it is.”

he turned away, wrapping the basket with his tail, leading me through the tunnel. A vast, luscious forest greeted us. The land rose as we began our walk. Never had I witnessed such a land.

“How curious?” I said.

Toothless side eyed me. He asked, “what's so curious?”

“This land! It rises and falls in such heights and depths too! It's like the forest is alive,” I replied.

Toothless chuckled.

“What's so funny?” I asked.

“How you talk is different. We don't talk like that here,” he replied.

I winced.

His expression turned into panic suddenly. He waves his paw. He said, “not that's a bad thing. It's different but good!”

a small laugh escaped me. He tilted his head.

“Thank you, I said. His mouth opened but he shut it. We continued to walk. My heartbeat raced faster and faster with each step.

My eyes traveled to his strong face down to his wings. Powerful. I bit my lip. Softly I said, “we could fly if it would be faster, Toothless.” I tossed a glance at my own wings. Pathetic.

He let out a booming laugh.

I nearly lost my footing. He smiled wide; wide eyed too. Rolling his shoulders, he waves off the idea with his paw. “Nah! We don't gotta fly! Walking is good for ya! Besides I figured you'd be tired of flying. Yeah?”

A wave of relief washed over me. I nodded.

He held his head high.

“We'll also be there when everyone's already awake. They're gonna freak when they see you.”

Again I nodded my head, but froze. There's a tremor in my voice as I asked, “everyone... do you mean humans?”

“Mhm! And our kind too!” Toothless murmured, eyes glistening like sunlit grass.

I swallowed down a scream. My feet grew heavy and slow as we walked. Eyes firmly on the ground. Our shadows had disappeared as the sun hung high in the sky. The silence was deafening. Pushing down another scream, I asked, “how much further?”

Soft smile. A knowing look. Before I could even utter a word, Toothless pushed aside a row of low hanging tree branches before us. My heart sank into my belly.

Human nests.

A lump formed in my throat as we made our way towards the nest. Large trees in unusual shapes surrounded us. Flashes of colors decorated them. Loud noises bellowed from them and down the dirt paths. I moved closer to Toothless. Strange noises echoed throughout several homes. The smell of fire burned my nostrils. That's when a familiar yet unfamiliar sound shakes the ground.

“GET DOWN!” someone yelled.

Massive shadows descended upon us. I peered up. Creatures flew over, in all various shapes, sizes, and colors. They chilled me to the bone. They had claws, scales, wings, and sounded like me. But they weren't like me. Not at all.

Of course I cowered like a hatchling. I crouched and followed Toothless who was more preoccupied with his own thoughts. I reached out for him. He stopped. He looked at me before giving me another sweet smile. Something stirred within me. With some force, I was able to stand tall and walk beside him. I stared straight ahead. In hopes it would keep the fear down.

My ears twitched.

Voices swirled around us, but it all became jumped with how many there were. The strange noises in the houses stopped. Humans froze in their places. Our “kind” as Toothless called them stopped dead in their tracks. Their eyes bore into my skull.

Shaky steps I followed Toothless up a winding path. There on a hill was a more grand house. And standing outside were more humans. One stuck out. His green eyes lit up when they saw Toothless. Then they landed on me. They grew wide. As did the rest standing next to him.

“My gods, Toothless!” the one called Hiccup yelled.

He ran down the jagged rocks with the others following him. Hiccup grinned at me. I stayed quiet. Then I witnessed the strangest thing. Hiccup hugged Toothless. And Toothless hugged him back.

I watched the two head bump each other and watched Toothless get his chin scratched. Hiccup turned his sights on me. He takes a step towards me. I stepped back. It was then I saw him reaching out towards me. Fear kicked in. I growled before I closing my eyes. Waiting.

Hushed whispers all around me.

I waited still.

Nothing.

One eye opened and I peeked. Hiccup's hand is out towards me while he gives me a sincere look. Both eyes open now I looked around. Everyone was staring. Several of our “kind” stared me down, some even wore scowls. I focused my attention on Hiccup and Toothless. The latter motioned to me. He moved his head forward. I didn't understand. So I lowered my head and away. Hiccup lowered his hand and done a small nod. More whispers began to circulate around me. Then another human walked up. From her different form she must be a female. She laid her hand on Hiccup's shoulder.

“Hiccup,” she said.

Hands on his hips, Hiccup said, “well should've figured it wasn't going to be that easy. Still she's here!”

More humans started to crowd. Several small ones pointed out me smiling. Bigger ones looked me up and down before whispering to each other. A small one stepped forward. Arms crossed and nose upturned the little one barked out, “this is the Nightfury?” His voice, albeit more annoying, still held a rougher tone. Like Hiccup. So humans can come in small sizes it seems.

Two more humans came forward. They looked the same?“Yeah, aren't they supposed to be like big?” “Maybe it's a baby!” Their voices meshed together so well. Had no idea who said what.

“Don't be like that guys! This is an incredible discovery! We can learn so much from her!” Another human cried. A large human he was. He had something in his hand and was messing around with it. I tilted my head.

The tiny human let out a huff and said, “you and Hiccup both keep saying it's a girl. What if it's not?”

I'm a girl.

“She's a girl, Snoutlout” Hiccup said, crossing his own arms, “I mean look at her. It's obvious she's a girl.”

The Snoutlout rolled his eyes again. He jabbed an accusing finger at Hiccup then at a round and brown dragon. He said, “yea and we thought Meatlug was a boy.”

Tension became thick and heavy between the two. Suddenly a man with strange limbs hobbled over and clocked the two upside the head.

“Aight that's enough both of ya!” This man said. He wagged a finger at Hiccup and added, “and that's no way for a chief to behave. Actin' like children. You're vikings!” Then the man turned to me, squinting his eyes at me. Hobbling over, he leaned over to look under and said, “let's settle this then shall we?”

Muscles tensed I was ready to growl when he shot up. And yelled. My ears started to ring. Everyone else covered their ears in unison. He yelled again, “VALKA GET OVER HERE!”

The crow stepped aside to give a clear path. A tall woman comes through. She looked similar to Hiccup as if she were his— “Hey mom,” Hiccup said.

His mother walked over to me. I began to back up when I stopped. There was something bout her that calmed me. In such grace she bent down to me a warmth radiating in her eyes. Her hands glided under my chin. I was still. Her eyes bore into mine. My soul bare for her all to see. She dipped her head down peeking beneath my belly. She slipped from my head down my body. Her hands grazed my wings. She held out her hand to me. We locked eyes. I gave her my paw and she inspected it. There was a twitch in her eyes though. Fingers grazed my chest. She pulled away standing tall. Without a word she gave me a smile then turned to face her son and the crowd.

“Hiccup is right. This is a female.”

There were ohs and ahs. The crowd came closer to me hands reaching out and eyes wide with excitement. The dragons seemed to mirror them. Big heads attached to long necks peered at me. Small dragons hovered. There was so much heat. I couldn't breath. I immediately curled into myself. There was shouting but my ears were still ringing. I heard a much louder Hiccup and possibly the female next to him.

Someone let out a roar.

The world all stands still. Humans and dragons turned to the source. I peeked through my wings and saw Toothless. An angry Toothless. And an angrier Hiccup. And the angriest woman I had ever seen. Before Toothless or Hiccup could move, she stepped forward. The crowd stepped back. In a firm yet harsh tone she spoke, “we're done here. Go back to what you were doing and act like nothing has changed. Understand.”

In one swift motion, they all dispersed.

Toothless walked over and laid down next to me. I unfurled my wings. Footsteps close in on us and I looked up. Hiccup dropped down. He shot me an apologetic look then patted Toothless. He looked up at the woman standing next to him. Hand on her hip, she patted his shoulder.

“Thanks Astrid,” he said.

Astrid bent down kissing Hiccup's forehead. My heart fluttered. I looked over to Toothless who watches happily. More fluttering. Toothless looked to me. I looked away bashfully. Hiccup hopped to his feet. Dusting his hands together, he motioned towards the hill house. I gazed up, confusion washing over me.

“You're a guest of Berk tonight. I'd be honored if you had dinner with us,” Hiccup said. Toothless swatted his arm grumbling at him. I raised a brow. Again I looked to Toothless.

Leaning in close, I asked, “why is he being so kind?” “

“It's our way of showing respect. Only important folk get to dine with the chief.”

“O-Oh, really? I never thought of myself as impor—“ I cut myself off before changing my words, “should...should I say yes?”

Toothless leaned in and replied, “yeah! You don't have to though. It's up to you.”

“I have a choice?” I asked.

“Of course ya do. Just want ya to be comfortable,” Toothless replied.

I sat there quietly then said, “I'd love to.”

Toothless smiled the biggest smile I had seen of him yet. He even revealed his teeth! He jumped to his feet. He nodded his head to Hiccup who grinned. He beamed down at Astrid. She playfully rolled her eyes. Hiccup once more motioned towards his home. Arms linked together, Hiccup and Astrid walked ahead of us. Toothless trotted after them. And I followed.

At the top of the hill, I looked back. We stood above this small village filled with humans and dragons living together. My thoughts turned to my mother. What she would think of this? Her words started off as a whisper. They began to grow loud. Before they could scream, Toothless comes into view. Her words died.

“You're in for a treat,” he said. My stomach knotted up. I followed him inside. A quaint little wooden cave. A roaring fire in the middle with wood leading up top. With slow steps I made my way in. Hiccup closed the door behind us. Stoking the fire was Valka who gave us a smile.

“Ah Hiccup, you've come home. Dinner is done so I'll see myself out.”

Hiccup waved it off. Astrid takes a gentle hold of Valka's arm.

“Mom, you should stay. We have a guest with us tonight.”

Valka chuckled. She looked past Hiccup to me. In a soft tone, she said, “I think it'd be best for her to not have so many people here, Hiccup,” she held her hand out to him, “I know you're excited. Trust me.”

Sighing, Hiccup nodded. He stepped to the side letting his mother out. Astrid walked after Valka. Not before giving Hiccup another kiss. She whispered in his ear though. The door closed shut behind them. Hiccup shakes his head. His sight turns onto the black rock hanging above the fire. He stirred it once. He leaves it be and goes to a basket.

“Come on!” Toothless said. I followed him to Hiccup. Hiccup grinned as he turned around arms holding up piles of fish! My jaw dropped. Toothless smirked. I felt a sliver of drool drip out of my mouth. Hiccup laughed. He walked over with the plates. Setting them down between us, he fished himself food out of the black rock.

Toothless dove in happily. Licking my lips, I opened my mouth wide but stopped. Speaking through chews, Toothless asked, “hey what's wrong?”

“I can't eat this...” I said.

“What why?!” he yelled, flinging bits of food everywhere.

I looked down.

“There's not enough for both of us. I can't take food from you,” I answered.

He swallowed hard. Toothless wiggled his nose at me and said, “that's your fish. And there's plenty to eat.”

Hiccup must have heard us since he leaned in. He shot Toothless a look. Swallowing, Hiccup set his plate down. He said, “you two alright?”

Toothless pointed at the fish, at me, then at the basket. Hiccup arched a brow. He looked over at me. Then at the fish. His eyes softened and lips curved into a smile. He picked up a fish. He held out to me and said, “go on. You can have as much as you want.”

I peered up at me. My stomach growled. Again I licked my lips and snatched the fish from his hand. He flexed his fingers. Hadn't realized humans had good reflexes. I scooped up more fish swallowing them whole. In a flash, the plate was empty. I licked my lips. My gaze lingered on Toothless' plate. My stomach whined, but my head told me no. I pushed down my hunger.

Hiccup, chewing, got up from his seat and back to the basket. With a groan he lifted it up. He dropped it between us. And a waterfall of fish came rushing out. Once more my jaw dropped. Toothless let out a guttural chuckle.

“Eat till you're full!” Hiccup said. He gave Toothless a pat before going back to his meal. Toothless finished off his plate. I dove again into the pile. Filling up my belly the first time in ages. Toothless joined me and we ate like alphas. Soon there was only one fish left. I reached for it.

So did Toothless.

Our noses touched. I pulled away looking at him sheepishly. He blinked. He nudged the fish to me. I simply stared in awe. Lifting my gaze I caught Toothless staring. Nothing was said between us. I felt it again. A flutter in my belly. I ate the last fish.

“Enjoy your meal?” he asked.

“Oh yes very much. Thank you for inviting me,” I replied.

Damn he smiled again. He's done it so much since we've met. And I don't understand why he does. Still it made me happy.

Toothless led me up the strange tree to the top of the cave. He swept his wing across the room. There laid two nests. One feather and one stone. Across the way was a wooden slab with thin leaves decorating it. Drawings! I let out a squeal of delight. I rushed over peering over them. Toothless sat next to me.

“Incredible! Are these yours?” I asked looking at him.

He shakes his head. “Nah I wish! Hiccup did these. Great huh? Though I think taught him a thing or two.” He stuck his tongue out.

I laughed. I honest to the stars above I laughed.

Toothless trotted over to the stone nest. Hopping onto it, he said, “this is my bed. Tonight though it's your bed too.”

I had to do a double take. I switched between the bed and Toothless. My wings twitched as they began to curl around me. Covering my eyes, I squeaked, “n-no! I couldn't...I can't!”

“Sorry!” he said. I peeked through my claws. He gave me a sheepish look. Toothless said, “that was a stupid idea. You can have the bed all to yourself! You're the guest.”

I quickly shake my head.

He tilted his head at me eyes raised.

“If you're worried bout where I'm gonna sleep, don't. I'll crash with Hiccup. Done it before so—“

“I can't stay.”

Toothless looked as if I had hit him. He hung his head. His wings drooped next to him as the light from his eyes flicked away. He began to nod before sighing. He said, “right...you probably wanna go home huh?”

Home. I hadn't thought much of it. Only time I had was due to Mother's words echoing. Even still that faded fast. Like the tide, my vow came rushing in. To bring Toothless back. Avoid my brother. To earn my mother's favor.

My attention rested on Toothless. Hiccup moved below us, whistling a tune. The fire crackled and popped mixing with the voices of those outside. Dragons roared and bellowed. Happiness crashed through the air like the ocean's waves. Toothless' gaze caught mine. Soft. So warm. He smiled again. Another flutter in my belly and the words came tumbling out.

“No, it's not that,” Toothless perked up,“I am just not ready to stay among humans. Yet.” I smiled back.

The light in his eyes nearly blinded me. He hopped over to me. That smile of his. It could rival the sun and moon combined! He motioned for me to follow him. Moment we reached the bottom, Hiccup waved. His smile faltered when we moved to the door. He looked at Toothless. Toothless looked at him. A nod. Hiccup opened the door for us.

I began to walk down the jagged rocks. Toothless stepped in front of me and I give him a look. He pointed with his wing. He slipped away so I follow. Around the corner was a wooden canopy. Beneath was a spot weathered down and dark. Without a word, Toothless warmed it up before he patted the spot. Stars began to twinkle as the night rolled in. I whispered a thank you and laid down.

“Get some sleep, I'm gonna show you around tomorrow. Sweet dreams!” Toothless said then disappeared.

I let out a yawn. Body curling into a tight ball, I relaxed into the warmth of my bed. Sweet dreams indeed. ~~~~ Finally finished the illustration! Was afraid to take a crack at it, a buddy though had posted a crowd tutorial. Helped a toooon Now I can continue on with the story lol Enjoy and thanks for reading!

#how to train your dragon #httyd #toothless #dragons #artists on tumblr

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tanjamikaelson · 5 years ago

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LOVE FOR ETERNITY - 79

MASTERLIST

PART 79: | “FAMILY BONDING “ |

Kol, Natali, Freya and Elijah were in the study room and Kol was pacing around because he was upset that Freya brought Finn back to life and he was arguing with Freya and Elijah.

- “Pardon me, love, but Finn tried to kill the rest of us more than once! He's an enemy of our family.” Kol told her.

- “He is our family. Finn's return is an opportunity to mend old wounds and fix what's broken.” Freya tells him.

- Elijah turns away from Kol for a moment and walks toward Freya to address her, “You seem certain..”

Kol is visibly appalled that once again, his concerns are being ignored by his siblings.

- “Are you honestly siding with her?” Kol asks him.

- Elijah raises his hand to silence Kol and continues to talk to Freya, “Time and time again, Finn has demonstrated nothing but contempt toward his family. So, you tell me - how can you be so certain that he would return to us in peace?”

Suddenly, Finn appears and joins them in the library, raising his hands in a non-threatening gesture.

- “Our sister knows me well.” Finn says, “Though, perhaps you're right to doubt my intentions. By all means, let's discuss our family quarrels. I believe we're long overdue.”

Both Kol and Elijah stare at Finn in shock. A few moments later Elijah got a call so he left the room. He finished talking just in time to hear the sound of Kol yelling from the next room. He immediately rushes into the next room, where Freya has just stepped in between Kol and Finn, the former of whom is struggling against her so he can attack the latter.

- “Take a swing at me, huh? All these side-steps and parries.. Even the way you fight is boring.” Kol says and reaches around Freya and shoves Finn in the chest while Freya glares at him in frustration. When he stops, Kol shoves Freya aside, where she lands on the nearby couch, so that he can push Finn backward against the wall. Before he can do anything, however, Elijah vamp-speeds into the room and pulls Kol away from him, eventually shoving him against the bookshelf in a choke-hold from which he desperately tries to break free.

- Elijah was clearly annoyed by their bickering, “Behave yourselves! Particularly considering we'll be confined here together for the foreseeable future.”

- “What does that mean?” Kol asks.

- I believe the term is "staycation." You see, Niklaus isn't the only one who's inspired revenge fantasies. Right now, we are all at risk.” Elijah tells them.

Kol turns around and glares at Finn, and Freya, not pleased by Elijah's news either, sighs and closes her eyes, visibly frustrated.

- And Elijah continued to speak, “So, while Marcel works to retrieve the white oak, I recommend we dispense with the posturing and get down to some good, old-fashioned family bonding.”

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

Rebekah has just woken up, the last thing she remembered was Renee staking her with a cursed stake. She looked at her arm and once again she had a skull on her wrist, it was just a matter of time when it will draw her mad. She then looked around her and all there was a road and woods. Renee obviously left her in the middle of nowhere.

There was a car approaching her and she walked towards the road and stood in the middle. A driver immediately stopped the car when he saw her.

- Rebekah walked towards him and asked, "Where am I?"

- "Louisiana." He replied.

- "Close to which city?" Rebekah asked again.

- "Lafayette." He said.

- "So I'm like 2 hours away from New Orleans. Amazing." Rebekah remarks, then looks into his eyes, "I'm going to need your car."

But before she took his car she also feed on him to gain her strength back. When she started driving towards New Orleans she took her phone and called Kol.

- "Rebekah, we're in the middle of something." Kol answered.

- "I hope that something is finding Renee and killing her." Rebekah tells him.

- "What? Why do you say that?" Kol asks, a little confused since they still didn't told Rebekah what happened.

- "Is it true that she really killed Natali? Please tell me it's not." Rebekah says.

- "Unfortunately it's true, but don't worry Natali jumped into Davina's body." Kol tells her, "How do you know that?"

- "Well, Renee came to Saint Tropez. She came with army of vampires and some witches were working with her." Rebekah said, "She staked me with a cursed stake and now I'm somehow in Louisiana and making my way to New Orleans. I don't know what happened to Anna and others but I fear they might be dead."

- Kol couldn't believe what he was hearing, "They are all dead?”

- “I don’t know Kol.” Rebekah tells him, “You better tell Natali and I’ll come soon.”

- “I will.” Kol replies before he hung up.

Natali found Kol in their old bedroom at the compound, he was pacing around angrily.

- “Hey.” Natali altered him of her presence, “Maybe you should stop being upset about Finn and we can spent our time here.. in this bed.” she says and smiles as she leans forward to kiss him and he kisses her back for a moment before she moves down and starts kissing his neck.

- “I have to tell you something.” Kol says.

- “You can tell me later.” Natali says and pushes him to lay on bed, then straddles him.

- Kol moves her and sits back up, “I’m serious. You won’t like this.”

- Natali looks at him, “What? You’re not attracted to Davina’s body?”

- “No, it’s not that.” Kol says and Natali gives him a look, “I mean, yeah, it’s weird when you’re in her body, but that’s not what I wanted to say.”

- “Then what?” Natali asked.

- “Rebekah called me.” Kol says and continues, “She said that Renee came to Saint Tropez and she staked Rebekah with a cursed stake and there's a possibility that she killed Anna and everyone else."

- "There is a possibility or she really killed her?" Natali asked.

- "Rebekah doesn't know what happened after she was staked." Kol told her.

- Natali took a deep breath, "I should've known that she would go to Saint Tropez to kill other siphoners." She says and starts looking around the room.

- "What are you looking for?" Kol asked.

- "Your phone." Natali replied.

- "It's on the nightstand." Kol tells her and she quickly takes it. She then calls Anna's phone number, but no one answered. She called three more times and the last time someone answered, Natali immediately recognized that voice was from Renee and didn't said anything.

- "Kol, have you heard the news?" Renee says in a mocking way, because she saw name of the caller.

- Kol took phone from Natali's hand, "I'll gut you alive."

- "I think you will have more pressing matters on your hand." Renee says.

- "What does that mean?" Kol asked.

- "You will see." Renee answered and hung up.

- "Kol, she killed her." Natali barely managed to say, "She really killed her." tears have started to go down her face without her even noticing.

As soon as Kol came to realization that she was crying one arm wrapped around her waist to pull her closer and his other hand moved to the back of her neck. Natali wasn’t the type who would show how vulnerable she is, but this time she couldn’t hold it inside of her.

Soon after Kol told her everything Rebekah came to the compound. When she saw Freya, Elijah and Finn, she went upstairs to Kol’s and Natali’s room. She knocked at the door and told them that it’s her, then walked in. She saw Natali who was in Davina’s body sitting on the bed, it seemed to her like she was crying.

- “Hey Bekah.” Natali says through tears and runs towards her to hug her, after a hug she took Rebekah hand and looked at the inside of her wrist and saw that there was a squeal, “I want to kill Renee for doing this to you, for killing my friends. I want my body back and I want my life back. She ruined everything.”

- “She will pay for everything she’s done.” Rebekah says.

- “The only thing I can do right now is try to reverse the spell.” Natali says.

- “What do you need?” Kol asks.

- “I’ll need a pure silver knife and some white muskroot. I have it in our apartment.” Natali tells him, “Also I will need Freya’s help.”

When Kol returned the three of them were already waiting for him, prepared to start the spell. He holds out a burlap bag of the herb they need and holding the muskroot in one hand and the silver knife in the other Natali and Freya start to chant, “Niax a tam, niax en at tem alach ti. Niax en at tem alach ti.” As they chant, the blade of the silver knife starts to glow orange with their magic.

- “This is gonna sting a little.” Natali tells Rebekah before she takes her hand and slices the patch of the skin with the cursed weal on it off of Rebekah’s wrist with the knife and continues to chant the spell, though Rebekah screams so loudly her incantation is unintelligible. Finally, once it's done, Rebekah goes limp as her body starts to heal from the injury. Natali sighs in relief, after a moment, Rebekah smiles a cheeky smile, indicating that all is well for now.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

Kol and Natali were in the bedroom where he is ranting about what he's just learned about Elijah and Finn's proposal.

- “Elijah is just going to go for it! Let Finn steal a body and start a new life!” Kol says.

- Natali looks at him with concern, “You need to calm down.”

- “How can I calm down? Did you even heard what I just said?” Kol asks her.

- “I did. But you raging about Finn when you're stuck in here and can't do anything about it isn't going to help.” Natali tells him.

- Kol sighs and stands to his feet to pace around the room, “I just want Finn to suffer. He tried to kill all of us, how can they not remember that?”

- “He will!” Natali walks toward him and takes his hands in her own, squeezing them reassuringly, “I promise.”

She lets go of his hands so she can cup his face and kiss him, and they begin to make out passionately. They both get more and more into it until Kol finally pulls away and spins her around so he can kiss her neck. She sighs and closes her eyes in pleasure, but the blood vessels around his veins start to darken, and when he pulls away, his fangs have come out. He becomes so overwhelmed with desire and bloodlust that he's about to sink his fangs into Natali's neck, only managing to stop at the last moment when he opens his eyes and realize that she is not in a human body and he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stop. When he realizes what he's about to do, he lets go of her as though he's been burned and vamp-speeds out of the room before he can harm her. However, Natali looks confused and hurt when she opens her eyes and finds she's completely alone in the bedroom.

Natali was walking down the hallway next to the courtyard looking for Kol just when Finn comes out of a room from the other side of the hall and addresses her.

- “If you're looking for Kol, just follow the screams of the innocent. You'll find him close by.” Finn’s voice called out.

- Natali turned to Finn with a smirk on her face, “At least we embraced our true nature, unlike you who would rather be dead than a vampire. ” she then thrusts out her hands, using her magic to bring him to his knees as she casts the spell, though Finn's screams of agony prevent the incantation from being understood. A brand appears on Finn's chest as he moans in pain.

- “I hear you're looking to steal the body of some unsuspecting witch..” She continues to silently cast the spell while Finn screams, until finally she finishes and leaves Finn panting and recovering on the floor. He sees the large brand on his chest and looks horrified.

- “What have you done to me?” Finn asks.

- “Get comfy, Finn. I just locked you in that body you hate so much. You're stuck as a vampire for the rest of your pathetic life.” Natali spat at him.

Finn becomes so enraged that he vamp-speeds toward her and pins her against the wall in a choke-hold, just as Kol appears and throws him off of her. Kol channels his rage, punching Finn in the head and stomach before grabbing him by the neck and slamming his head into the wall, but Finn elbows Kol in the face to break out of his grip for a brief moment before Kol starts to strangle him with both hands. Finn manages to grab Kol's left wrist and snaps it before headbutting him in the face and tackling him, but when Kol elbows him hard in the back, Finn is disoriented enough for him to knee him in the gut and throw him through the glass doors into the courtyard, where he lands on the floor. Finn tries to crawl backward away from Kol as he approaches him. Natali was walking behind Kol when Rebekah grabbed her hand to stop her, “Lucian is here, he can’t see you.” she tells her, “And are you crazy, going after Finn in a body that can easily get killed.”

Natali just rolls her eyes at what Rebekah said and starts walking the other way back towards the bedroom.

While in a courtyard Kol grabbed a lit candle off the table as he walked toward his eldest brother.

- Finally, Freya rushes into the room to intervene, “Kol, stop.”

Kol glares at her as Lucien appears behind Freya, but when he continues to walk toward Finn with the candle.

- Elijah vamp-speeds in and shoves him backward, “Enough!”

- Kol was furious, “This isn't your fight!”

- “I told you to stay your hand!” Elijah says sternly.

- Kol scowls at him furiously, “Fine.” he angrily throws the candle across the room

- “Now if you are done I have to tell something.” Elijah says, “Marcel has paid us a visit.” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the bullet, “The last remaining white oak in the world.. right here.”

Lucien frowns and watches Elijah intently, as does Finn, who seems to be realizing how important this bullet is to him.

- “Sister, if you would be so kind?” Elijah says to Freya.

Freya nods and flicks her wrist toward the fire pit nearby, which bursts into flames. However, when Elijah throws the bullet into the fire, Finn yells to try to stop him.

- “No!" Finn vamp-speeds toward the fire and plunges his hand into it, groaning in pain as he's burned until it finally pulls out the bullet, which had not yet been fully consumed by the flames.

- “Brother!” Elijah exclaimed.

- Finn falls to his knees and looks at his siblings and Lucien with horror in his eyes, “The little witch has condemned me to this! To remain a beast.” He looks up at Elijah with a pleading expression, “Elijah.. I can't bear an eternity with no hope of escape. Can you?”

Elijah looks conflicted about this question. Everyone was staring at Finn who was standing in front of the fire and holding the bullet in his hand while Elijah attempts to plead with him.

- “Finn, give it to me.” Elijah says, Finn doesn't move and gives Elijah a devastated look, and Elijah's voice becomes more stern, “Give it to me.”

When this doesn't work, Lucien sighs before vamp-speeding toward Finn, stealing the bullet from him, and then vamp-speeding across the room again. Lucien looks at the bullet for a moment, shocked that he actually has it in his hands, and everyone looks at him suspiciously for a moment before he sighs again and tosses the bullet to Elijah at vampire speed, who catches it and looks surprised by this turn of events. After a moment of inaction, Lucien looks impatient.

- “Come on, then. After all this time.. go on and destroy it.” Lucian tells them.

- “Of course we will destroy it. Right, Elijah?” Kol says.

- Elijah looks conflicted, and Finn tries to plead with him, “Elijah, forever is a burden that nobody should have to bear.”

- Kol continues to argue the opposite, “You cannot keep that white oak in this house, Elijah. It is already a beacon drawing our enemies to us.”

Elijah continues to stay frozen in place, and Lucien decides on a compromise.

- “Perhaps the best solution is obvious? Entrust it to the one who loves each of you most.” Lucian says.

Finn, realizing what Lucien is intending, looks at Freya with a desperate expression, and Elijah also seems amenable to this idea. Freya, realizing this is key to keeping her family as whole as possible, nods in agreement.

- “I can cloak myself. If it has to exist, at least I can take it far away. Hide it under a thousand spells, somewhere where no one else will ever find it.” Freya says and looks up at Finn, though she's visibly unhappy with the thought of Finn's death, “Until the day comes when.. you're ready for release.”

Elijah still looks unsure, but he eventually hands Freya the bullet with a serious expression.

- “NO!” Kol yells and flashes towards Freya in an attempt to take the bullet from her, but Elijah stops him.

- “Control yourself.” Elijah said to him, “We’ve made the decision.”

- “That’s the problem. You never make the right decision.” Kol says angrily and walks out of the room.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

Back in Kol’s and Natali’s room the two of them were sitting on the bed while Kol was once again complaining about the decisions his siblings made.

- “I can’t believe they didn’t destroy it. It will come back to haunt us, it always does.” Kol says and looks at her, “The only thing we can do is leave.”

- “Leave?” Natali asks.

- “Yeah, tomorrow we can go wherever you want.” Kol tells her.

- “I need to ask you something.” Natali says.

- “What?” Kol asks.

- “Earlier today when we started kissing why did you leave?” Natali asked.

- Kol looks at a floor for a moment before saying, “I’m afraid that I will hurt you.”

- “You are not going to hurt me.” Natali assured him.

- “You know that I can’t control myself and you’re in a body that can easily be killed.” Kol says, he places his hand on her cheek and they look into each other's eyes, “I can’t lose you.”

- Natali sighs, she knew it was true everything that he was saying, “Then we need to figure out a way to get my body back.”

- “You will need a hell of a lot of black magic for that.” Kol tells her.

- “I know. We’ll find it somewhere.” Natali says.

- “Get some rest and we’ll think about that tomorrow.” Kol told her and kissed her forehead.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

MASTERLIST

Tags: @mikaelsonsmagic @p3nny4urth0ught5 @cute-freak27 @ias-born @superhalsteads @characterobsessed @hinata7346 @luiza-4-ever @huntress1428 @infiniteoblivion21

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