#got to the armour and got too sleepy :/
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yay!
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There's nothing Oreius dislikes so much as a liar or a traitor. He's more than a little disgusted with the idea of one of their kings being a traitor, but he's also saddened. He liked Peter instantly, something in his eyes, something strong and brave for a colt his age. But the other king? A traitor?
In all his years as a leader among the centaurs faithful to Aslan, he has often had to be ruthless with his trust. He's been betrayed more than once, by friends, creatures he gave second chances to. He's had to take a stand on 'trust once broken, forever broken'. (He knows that traitors die under a knife.)
Of course he's still going to do what Aslan tells him, of course he's still going to help rescue the boy. But he worries, he's got his guard up, ready for anything from this traitor-boy.
And then just outside the Witch’s camp, Edmund faints dead away, and Oreius does not hesitate to scoop the boy up in his arms, and oh.
He's too light for one thing. Yes, he's human, not colt, but still. He's got gangly arms and legs, he looks like he's growing. He feels like he should weigh more. His face is battered, and Oreius remembers how they found that dwarf with his knife at the boy's throat, and, well... he's very glad they got there when they did.
Oreius carries Edmund gently through the night, until he stirs.
He halts, lays the boy down carefully as soon as he moans, wary of him lashing out, and gestures for the others not to crowd too close.
Edmund surges to his feet, almost falls down again at once, and Oreius catches his shoulder to steady him. "Careful, young one. If you can't walk you will need to ride."
A wild-eyed glance around in the half-moonlight, and the Son of Adam looks up him, up at Oreius, and he's the same height as Oreius's sister-colt when he'd been but a week past born.
"Are you going to kill me too?" Edmund asks, and the quiet despair in his voice cuts Oreius deeper than he would have liked.
"No," Oreius says quietly. "We have come to rescue you. Aslan’s orders."
"But why would He ever want me?" Edmund wavers again, and Oreius wonders when he last ate, or drank. "Is He going to kill me? I don't think I much care if He does though, it's got to be better than her."
That's when Oreius's softening heart decides it's time to give second chances again.
"No, He waits for you," Oreius speaks soft. "His lost one. I know He seeks a way to make it right. To save you."
The Son of Adam stares at him for too long, and doesn't turn away quickly enough for Oreius to miss the tears.
He hates having to break this moment, but the Witch could come after them at any time. "We need to move, you majesty. We will not make you walk, you may ride me."
Oreius gestures to one of the fauns who lifts the Son of Adam up onto the centaur’s back. "Hold onto me," Oreius said over his shoulder, and hands grasp awkwardly at his armour. "I will not let you fall," he adds.
Oreius carries Edmund back to Aslan, and his heart is warm, when he realizes the boy is nodding sleepy against Oreius spine.
Perhaps this traitor can mend, he thinks. I will do all I can to help you, colt and king as you are.
Oreius doesn't like liars, or traitors. But when Aslan breaks the curse, not just for Edmund but for all such beings, he is glad. He is glad to offer second chances again.
#look i wrote most of this at 1 am so i'm not even sure i know what this is#it came out as an actual scene thing#oreius#edmund pevensie#narnia fanfiction#my writing#narnia movies#narnia
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Sleeping at Saltburn: Felix’s Room
Summary: It’s your first night back for the summer, but Felix has a guest. How will this affect your sleeping arrangements.
Warnings: none, fluff
A/N: this kind of predates the other sleeping at Saltburn story. The incident with Felix going to your room happens later the same week.
Summers at Saltburn Masterlist
You always fought before you both went back to your separate schools and you always made up when you came back; but the fight you’d had at the end of last summer, because of Michael, was the worst. It was so bad you hadn’t come back to Saltburn during any of the other school holidays, opting to stay at your Uni accommodation instead. But you couldn’t avoid going back for the summer. You had convinced yourself it would be fine, that the two of you would talk and make up like you always did and the events of last summer would just become a part of the past. However when Farleigh picked you up from the train station and told you Felix had brought another friend home, it only cemented the niggling thought in your mind more that things between you and Felix would forever be different now.
He only confirmed it even more when you had both crept away to talk things out so things wouldn’t be awkward for everyone else in the house. “Can we just forget about last summer and just be friends?” He’d said.
Just be friends. To hear that phrase killed you.
You kept thinking it over as you tossed and turned in your bed that night. That bed you always shared with Felix. Even when you were arguing, you still shared a bed with Felix; had done ever since you first stayed over at 8 years old. The old house had freaked you out with its winding corridor’s, creepy painting and suits of armour. It had so much history, so many ghosts. You could feel them in the shadows of the rooms. Their soft treads creeping along the carpet behind you down the halls.
When he’d noticed how afraid you were, Felix had offered for you to sleep with him in his room. He was always there to protect you from the monsters.
But now you were alone, lying in a bed that felt far too big for just one person, far too cold and drafty due to the old and large architecture, a soft summer nighttime breeze whistling down the chimney stack and echoing off the fireplace and around your far too silent room. You needed his warmth, the soft rhythm of his sleepy breaths.
Before you knew it you’d grabbed your robe and started making your way across the second floor landing towards his room. You didn’t knock. You could hear his steady breaths coming from under the gap of the door and didn’t want to wake him. Didn’t want to risk rejection, him telling you to grow up and fuck off. So you instead quietly crept inside.
Although the bed was as large as your own, Felix wasn’t sprawled out across the middle of it. Even though you had every intention of sleeping apart, his body still slept on his side of the bed, the only thing stretching out to your side of the bed- his arm. It lay just at the base of your pillow, the perfect position to rest between your head and neck once you’d nestled down into the pillow.
You lifted the sheets and shifted yourself carefully beneath them, not wanting to disturb him too much, but given his arm placement, you knew it was unavoidable. You shimmied your body down slightly in order to better lie on the empty pillow next to him and the steady rhythm of his breathing stuttered, a small curious humming coming from his lips.
“I couldn’t sleep.” You quietly explained as you got yourself into a comfortable position on your side. You felt his arm shift to get comfortable, now tucked under your pillow. He paused, waiting a moment to make sure you were settled before he shuffled closer to your body, his arm reaching to rest over your hip, his head shuffling to the edge of the pillow to breathe in your scent on the back of your neck.
“I know.” He quietly whispered into your skin before pulling you back into him tighter and falling back to sleep.
You feel asleep not long after.
#felix catton fluff#felix catton imagine#felix catton x reader#felix catton#saltburn imagines#saltburn x reader#summers at saltburn#sleeping at Saltburn
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Aiden is not ok. (Also known as I shook a Cat Witcher and trauma fell out).
Aiden trembled from a mixture of cold and fear as the wind buffeted the top of the high tree, fingers digging into the bark as he hugged the thick trunk as best as he could, the movement impeded by large armour and shirt sleeves which fell back around his elbows, he knew that if he lowered his hands the fabric would fall to cover them completely in the same way the cuffs of too big trousers pooled around his bare feet, his medallion hung heavy around his neck and dangled down to his stomach.
He stared out at the tightrope that seemed to go on forever - he couldn't even see the other end! He risked a glance down and immediately wished he hadn't. Dyn Marv was just a series of specks underneath him, any noise coming from the other inhabitants disappearing before it reached him. Had it always been this far, this high? No...this wasn't right.
"Well?!"
He turned his head to see Treyse - as unimpressed and imposing as ever and riddled with arrows piercing him from every possible angle- glaring down at him, "Stop stalling, boy. You're the last and everyone's sick of fucking waiting on you. Don't disappoint me."
Aiden shook his head mutely, not wanting to lower his gaze from that of the Grandmaster. What were the chances someone down below would hear him if he screamed? That Guxart would hear him? The Cats second in command could be reasoned with at least and Aiden knew the man liked him to some degree. He'd convince Treyse to let him come back down!
As if reading his thoughts Treyse rolled his eyes, an air of impatience growing, "Guxart ain't coming brat. He's got better things to do than keep pulling your arse out of the fire. Now, go!"
"Please, I can't!" Aiden pleaded in a child's tremor. It was too high and too far and he was in clothes for someone taller and broader than him....he'd never make it.
"It'll go worse for you if you don't." Treyse growled, eyes flashing dangerously and Aiden knew from experience he wasn't joking. He'd personally felt the others switch too many times. Fighting back tears, Aiden turned to look back out at the treetops and took his first step onto the coarse rope.
Aiden could hear voices coming from below him now and he strained to try and make out what they were saying - were they cheering him on or hoping he'd come tumbling down? He couldn't tell, it all sounded so jumbled and muffled. He heard a series of shouts and shrieks when he rocked dangerously thanks to a particularly strong gust of wind before righting himself and continuing to shuffle forwards, not daring to fully lift his feet incase they got caught up in too much fabric and made him fall.
He could see the other end! Not far now. Not far...
Aiden froze and fought back a scream as another figure came into view. Jad smirked at him from where he was leaning against the trunk of the tree Aiden was heading towards, a mean looking axe swinging idly in his hand, a thick line of red running from ear to ear. As soon as he made eye contact that smirk grew into a toothy, self satisfied grin - the last expression Aiden had seen before the pain of an arrow followed by darkness - as he hefted the axe properly. And promptly bought it down on the rope, cutting though it in one swing as if it was a length of sewing thread and not hemp as thick as Aiden's child-skinny arm.
This time, Aiden did scream as he felt himself start to freefall....
Aiden sat bolt upright, breathing heavily as he rapidly took in his surroundings. He was indeed lying on the forest floor, but in a bedroll next to a small fire, the hands he held up in front of him were those of an adult, scarred and callused. He ran them over his face and fell backwards, focusing on his breathing and the sweat drying around his temples.
"Aiden?" Lambert asked sleepily from next to him, concerned overtaking sleepiness as he started to come fully awake, "What happened?"
"It's nothing, just a dream. I'm sorry I woke you." Lambert continued to stare at him unblinking. Aiden leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Go back to sleep love, I'm fine."
Lambert didn't push him on the obvious lie as he pressed a kiss of his own to the scar which ran over Aiden's now missing eye before gently pulling the Cat into his arms. Aiden went willingly, he knew he wouldn't get any more sleep tonight but he'd rather spend it with his face buried in the soft fabric of his lover's shirt than staring up at the canopy of trees caging them in.
#the witcher#the witcher fanfiction#lambert x aiden#lambert/aiden#lambden#aiden x lambert#aiden/lambert#witcher aiden#lambert#witcher lambert
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Hello! 🖤 I have an ask, what do you think Thranduil would think of himself if he stumbled upon a precarious human who was injured and found himself falling in love with her? 🤌🏻 could you write something like that? 🙏🏼 maybe he drapes his amazing cloak around her when she panics over her predicament?? Thank you in advanced 🖤🖤
I am very happy to write a thranduil story for you! I hope you'll enjoy, it's my first time writing for him 😁
Your eyes were just starting to open as you felt the warm sun shine through the window, the night before you had stayed in a pub called The Prancing Pony, and the room you were staying in had a window right next to your bed. You sit up it bed and rub the sleepiness from your face, knowing another god damn day was about to start. You were a lone warrior who traveled all over middle earth, you had no home, no family and your bed was pretty much anywhere you could find at the end of the night.
Weather that would be a bed like this one, or the forest floor on your travels, it's safe to say you much preferred the bed to the ground. You had stayed at the Prancing Pony many times before, as it was a good place inbetween travels where you could rest up and carry on with your days. You would travel across middle earth and help to rid villages of dangers, weather it be a monster, a band of orcs, or worse. It was just the norm for you now, and there didn't seem to be anything that would change that, not that you knew of at least.
You got dressed into your light armour then made your way downstairs to the man behind the bar, he offered you some food for the road after you paid him, and you accepted happily. Once you left The Prancing Pony, you walked over to the horse stables and collected your horse Thunder, aptly named because the first time you met him he was just a pony and he helped you out of a rather nasty thunderstorm. As you were walking Thunder down the path, a man ran up to you looking rather out of breath, and quite panicked. "Miss! Miss! I see you have weapons on your back! Are you a fighter?!" "Technically yes, I've slain orcs and monsters, and I can hold my own in a fight" "Really? Oh thank the gods! Please, I need your help" "What's wrong?" "It's my son! He ran away from home after an argument, spouting that he was the strongest in the family and he would prove it! He's ran away to Mirkwood forest" "Mirkwood? Why Mirkwood?" "He wanted to bring back the head of the monstrous spider! But I told him that there were too many and it would be suicide! Please, can you try to find him?......I....I know there is a chance he's already gone....if the worst has happened, please could you being his body back so we can bury him in our family plot?"
There was so much pain in his voice, like the thought of his son being dead was too hard to bare. "I will try to find him, and I will try to bring him back to you alive" "Oh thank you miss, I have many jems hear to pay you for your effort" "We can discuss payment once I'm back, until then, I should get going" "Thank you again my lady" "Oh-uh" For such a long time you haven't liked being referred to as a lady, your not a royal and you never act like a lady anyway, especially not the way you talk, act and fight. "Y/N is fine" And with that, you carried on out of the little village and headed towards Mirkwood. With Thunder being your horse, you were able to travel at great distances, within a short amount of time, you were able to pass by Last Bridge and Bruinen. It was night fall by the time you both reached the other side of the misty mountains, you were tempted to ask for shelter in Rivendel, but you weren't sure what kind of welcome you would receive. You had heard stories about the elves, and the ones at Rivendel seemed nice enough, but it was the ones in Mirkwood who most people spoke ill about. You had heard many stories, mostly to do with the history of Thorin Oakenshield and the King of Mirkwood. They had some kind of falling out and there was hatred on both sides, it may have been something to do with Smaug, the dragon who attacked Erabor.
According to witnesses, The Elf king did nothing to help the Dwarf king and his people after Smaug took their home, and that there were rumours that the same elf king captured them and kept them his dungeons when they tried to claim their home back. That's the bad side some people see, but there were others who pointed out that the Elf king helped in the battle of the five armies, although, apparently he was there already to take back something from Erabor. But again, he also lended aid to the people of Dale after the dragon attack, there were so many stories, you couldn't make heads or tales of it. This was running through your mind as you settled down for the night at the edge of the mountains, with you and Thunder warming up by the fire. You decided it was just better to avoid this King or any of his other elves when you were in there, it was going to be difficult enough having to find this young man, in Mirkwood of all places. People have gone mad or even died in that place, and you didn't want to be another one of those people who was whispered about when stories were told. After having something to eat, you drifted off to sleep, lying against Thunder as he leans close to the fire.
The next morning, you awoke from the sunrise and you grabbed something to eat from your backpack as you started getting ready to move again. Not forgetting to feed Thunder of course, he loves his crunchy apples, he couldn't get enough of them. Once you were both fed and ready, the journey started again, and it wasn't long at all before you reached the edge of Mirkwood, with this peculiar looking entrance, it looked very aged, but also like it had been hand carved by the finest eleven hands. You knew that taking Thunder in there was going to be dangerous, however, Thunder was a very stern horse indeed. Over the years, when you have tried to keep him away when your on a dangerous mission, he would find a way to join you, and wouldn't let you do it alone. You were stuck with him, there was no question. "You ready old friend?" He gave a positive winny noise, and it made you smile. Taking his reigns, you lead him through the entrance and into the forest, hoping that this whole situation would be over soon. You had only been in there for 10 minutes, and it was already feeling difficult to breath, let alone anything else.
The atmosphere had an almost misty feel to it, yet you could see fine, it was like your vision was trying to trick you. The air was heavy and you felt dissy due to what felt like lack of oxygen, but you kept going, looking for any sigh of that young man. Thunder stopped in his tracks, and was clipping his hoof against something on the ground, you climb down to look, and pick up a piece of fabric, and it had the same colour of the shirt the father was wearing, this must be from the young man you were suposed to find. You were clever not to shout for him, this forest could be hiding a whole host of dangers, including the very creatures this man came in hear to find in the first place. You weren't going to draw attention to yourself, so quietly you kept on moving, finding more and more pieces of this material as you followed. Until one piece had some blood on it "Oh god, I hope this is just from a little wound" You said to Thunder, that's when Thunder took a few steps back and looked a little scared, you stroked him to help calm him, and that's when you turn to see what he saw. Behind you in the trees were many cocooned bodies in spider webs, there had to be at least 30, and some of them you could see where long gone.
Skeletons haunted this feeding ground, but you weren't looking for skeletons, this man was hear recently. You left Thunder on the ground and climbed the tree, looking for this man, when out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of colour, the sake colour as the pieces of material you've found. It was him, wrapped up in this spider web. You climbed over to him and sliced him down with your little blade, he slowly fell to the floor as you jumped back down. Again you use your blade to slice open the webbing, and your so thankful he is breathing. He start to stir, he mumbled with his eyes closed. "N-no mumma, I don't want a sweetroll-" "Hey! Wake up!" You say as you slap him in the face, making him jolt awake and sit up. "What the-How did I-Who are you?! Did you just slap me?!" "Yes I did! Your father sent me hear to find you because he's worried sick about you, why would you be so stupid to run off on your own into Mirkwood, in search of spiders, on PURPOSE?!" "I wanted to bring back the head of a spider to prove I was strong!" "Don't you think a better idea would be to NOT go and hunt a dangerous monster to prove your strength? And instead prove to be a better son? And not scare your father in the process? To the point where he thinks your dead?! You had no skill to do this alone!"
"Excume me! What makes think that?!" You look at him with and angry face, and point up to the spiders webs, and the webs around him. "Hello! You were going to die you moron!" "Alright alright point made" "Good, now, look behind my horse there, do you see that?" "It looks, like a thin wire rope" "It is, I tied it around a part of the entrance of this forest, we will follow it and get out of this place. Then! You will go straight home and apologise for acting like an idiot to your father!" "But-" "Do I make myself clear?!" "Fine! Yes you do" After giving him a stern look, he brushes the rest of the webs off himself as you seen if Thunder is ok, but something is wrong, you sence a presence, a bad one. You turn around and see not one, but three enormous spiders advancing down the tree towards you all.
"Get out of hear now! Follow the wire!" "But what about you-" "Just get out now!" This man ran towards the wire, following it to the entrance of the forest as you ready your weapons. You shoot your cross bow at one spider hitting it straight in the eye and making it fall out of the tree to it's dead, still twitching. The other two run towards you, the swerve inbetween them and slice the leg of one, leaving it in pain and unable remove properly, that's where Thunder comes in.
He races over and starts attacking this wounded spider, kicking it in the body and face with his front and back legs, he has one hell of a kick on him, and he is destroying this spider. That leaves you to focus on the last one, that just so happens to be the biggest, and you notice it had many scars, it's seen battles, will it meet its fate in this one? It charges at you with lightening speed, knocking your weapon out of your hand and pins you up against the tree. Your holding it back by it's fangs, that are trying desperately to bite you, it's so hard keeping him away from your neck. So you kick the back of the tree, and reveal a blade that spikes out of your shoe, which you use to stab this spider in the throat, causing it to squeal and drop you due to the pain. You had no idea how high this spider was holding you, and you fell to the floor and felt a tremendous amount of pain, it was coming from your left arm, thankfully you were right handed, but you were still injured and weren't sure you were going to make it. You try attacking this spider again and again, getting a few injuries in, but it's too quick and to strong, and at one point, it grabs you and throws you against a tree, you feel something break but you don't know what. You fall to the floor in tears of agony, holding your ribs and struggling to breath, your bloodied and bruised, and Thunder is struggling with his own spider, he is unable to get to you. Your spider gets closer and closer to you, you have no way to move without pain, is this it? Were you about to be taken out by this spider?
It's within inches of you now, and you close your eyes as its about to strike at you with it fangs, when suddenly you don't feel anything from it. You just hear the sound of something shooting through the air, and when your eyes open you see an arrow has been shot into this spiders side, causing it to get angry, stand away from you and look for whoever shot it. Out of nowhere, about 15 elves jump out of the bushes and trees, and start attacking this giant spider, and the one that Thunder is struggling with too. The pain is too much and you collapse against the tree, trying desperately to hold in the tears and wishing for this pain to go away. The spider sees you and tries to strike at you again, when suddenly an incredibly tall man jumps out from behind you and stands infront, brandishing his blade to stop this monster. His sword slices one of it's fangs off like it was made of butter, and the spider retreats back in pain, allowing the other elves to attack it more. Your vision is getting harder to focus, the pain it too much, so it doesn't even cross your mind this Elf had knelt beside you to see if your ok, until you see his eyes. His piercing eyes, like sapphires and diamonds blended together in perfect balance.
His hand rests against your cheek, but before you could say anything, you pass out and fall forward, but he catches you before you fall.
The elves had just killed both the spiders as this elf picks you up and holds you in his arms, being careful not move you to much incase it hurts you more. Thunder races over to your unconscious body, and looks panicked. "Do not worry....your rider will be alright with the help of my kin" Somehow, Thunder both understood him and believed him, but he still looked worried down at you. "We will bring them both back to the palace, make sure this magnificent horse is tended to.......I shall take this woman to the healers....let's go" Time seemed to feel so short when you felt yourself waking up again, was it all a bad dream? Did that fight really happen? Your eyes adjusted to the surroundings, but something was wrong, everything was different. You could see you were in a beautiful silk white bed, enormous for just one person, the walls and decorations were beautiful, cream and white in colour, with what looked like green leaves and ivy growing in and around the walls, making it look incredible. Your so busy wondering what happend and where you were, that when you try to sit up, a sharp pain hits you like a bolder. "Hhhsss! By the gods! What the hell?" You pull back the silk quilt, and pull up your shirt to see a bandage delicately wrapped around your ribs, did someone heal you? That's when it all starts flooding back. Saving that man, being attacked by spiders, and elves coming to sav-Elves! The elves of the Mirkwood forest! So that means....I'm in the Mirkwood palace?
You look at the rest of you, and you see that your left arm is in a cast, and you can feel some bruises on your face and chest, but no cuts. Did the Elves use their healing abilities to help you? And if so, why? You manage to sit up and on the edge of the bed, where you hear a knock at the door. "Hello?" "Good day my lady, my name is Elenwen, may I come in?" She seemed polite, was she the elf who helped me?" "Y-yes" The door opened and this very well presented elf maiden entered the room with a trey of fresh fruits, baked goods and fresh water. "Oh, my lady you should be resting. Why don't you lie back in bed?" "No it's alright, I'm fine" "I'm sorry but I don't belive that. Not after I witness King Thranduil using his healing gifts to help you, according to him, you had 2 broken ribs, a broken arm and many other injuries too" "I'm sorry, did you say King?" "Yes, King Thranduil, he and his hunting party were out in the forest and happened upon you in the spiders den. He brought you and your horse back for care and assistance, that was 3 days ago" "Thunder is ok? Oh thank the gods-woh woh woh wait a second! 3 days ago?! I've been unconscious for 3 days?!" "You were healing my lady, your broken bones are nearly healed thanks to the king, and another few days and you should be much better" "I didn't think elven healing could be that quick. Oh, and....there's no need to call me lady, my names Y/N" "Ok, it's a pleasure to know your name Y/N. Is there anything else I can get you or help you with?"
"That's very kind of you, but I've already taken up enough of your time and resources. I'll just take Thunder and be on my way" "Oh you can't possibly do that yet! Your still healing, and the forest is dangerous for someone in your condition" "I'm sure I'll manage, I don't want to be a disturbance hear, I'm not exactly someone of royalty standards, I'm just a commoner. I honestly don't know why the elves helped me in the first place" "Royal or not, you were in need of help, and we gave it too you. Besides, the king asked me to inform him once you had awoken, he wishes to speak to you" "Let me guess, he's going to scald me about being on his land and in his forest?" "Of course not, why would you think that?" "I just assumed it would be that" "I can assure you that is not the case, shall I bring him in now?" "I'll just go to him, I've been in this bed for the days, I need to get out of it" "But I-" "I'm not staying in this bed any longer" "Well, alright, fine. But I'll only bring you to the king if you eat something first, you need your strength" "I'm not hungry, I don't need it" "No food, you stay in bed. And that's final" She seemed adamant about that, and you were in no position the move her out of the way and leave by yourself. So you agreed and ate some food, it was some of the best you had even tasted, once Elenwen was happy with you, she helped you out of bed and walked with you through the palace. The further you moves the darker the whole place got, but only in light, not in mood.
It actualy felt quite pleasant in hear, the walkways were made of these beautiful wooden tree roots, like the whole palace was built in and under an enormous tree of some sorts. It was difficult for you to walk quickly, but Elenwen knew this and walked slowly for you too, she seemed very nice. A few minutes later, she walks you across the biggest of these wooden root bridges, where there are these little steps leading to what looks like a big circular area, and in that, was a giant throne. It too was made out of the same things you walked across, there were two guards in either side of the throne, but right at the top, sitting there, was a majestic looking elf. And it wasn't until he looked down at you, that you remember something else from the spider attack, the diamond and sapphire eyes, they were his.
It's only then that the realisation hits you, the very same man who protected you, was the king! You and Elenwen stood at the foot of the throne, and Elenwen said "My king, the lady Y/N wished to approach you instead of in her bedroom quarters" The king can see your eyes roll when she says "Lady" again, you don't see it, but it actualy slightly amuses him.
"Guard, bring Y/N a chair" He does, and places it close to where you were. "Leave us, I wish to speak with Y/N alone" Both the guards and Elenwen leave the area, and now it's just you and the king. He walks down from his throne and stands just the right distance from you. "Please, take a seat" "That's kind, but I don't need one" "Don't need one?.....I'm suprised" You just shrug your shoulder, not knowing what to say. "So?.....might I ask, how you happend to be in the Mirkwood forest on your own?" "I was searching for someone" "And who might that be?" "A young man who had foolishly ran away to slay a spider, trying to prove his bravery and strength to his father" "I see, and did he get what he was seeking" "Nope, all he got was a smack in the face when I got him out of the spiders web, and a firm telling where to go because of his stupidity" This time you see it, a little smirk at the side of his face. "So, you saved this young man, and also smacked him in the face?" "If he hadn't have been acting like a wanna be spider hunter, he wouldn't have got himself into that mess. And because he nearly died from that, he needed a wake up call"
"I see....I like that.....so? Is that what you were doing there too? Trying to prove something?" "What do you mean by that?" "You entered this forest on your own, knowing the dangers. Were you acting like a wanna be spider hunter" "I wasn't acting like anything, I am someone who will help others in danger. I am skilled in fighting and weaponry, and I offer my help to those that need it and ask for it. This was my first time going up against spiders, it didn't exactly shock ME that I didn't get very far with them" "You nearly died saving that young man" "So?" ".......why did you say that?" "Because I did, what are you getting at?" "I just find it interesting how a young woman like yourself, who puts herself in danger all the time will say (So?) When asked about her own safety?" "Have you seen the world we live in? Safety isn't exactly easy to find. All over middle earth every day there are villages who happen to be in the way of some orc bandits. Or bears will pillage peoples homes, or innocent soldiers or bystanders will die in wars, that have no need to be happening anyway. I'm just doing my job, I help people and care for my horse, there is nothing else. And it's a dangerous job I do, so if I happen to die, that that's just what happens" He looks at you with a serious face, but the is also concern there too.
"When me and my kin were out hunting 3 days ago, we saved you from those spiders. But you yourself must have noticed that one was much bigger that the others?" "Actualy I did, and it had scars over its body" "That was because it was the most dangerous of the spiders nest. You see...there is a creature that hides away in some unknown location, me and my kin have tried and failed to find it. It is the biggest and most terrifying of the spiders, and it's name is Shelob. During it's time it had birthed only 3 children, as the others were eaten by those 3. And that spider who you fought in the forest, just so happens to be one of those 3 children. It has been responsible for many deaths of all races, and everytime my kin have tried to hunt it down, they have either never been found, or have been eaten by this beast. This is why I wished to speak to you" "What do you mean?" "Many of my kin have fallen to this monster within seconds, and none have lived.....and yet....you were attacked by this beast, and two others along side it. What I want to know....is how you did it?" "I don't know what to tell you, I just fought back. I shot a cross bow bolt into the head of one before it got out of the tree, I sliced the leg off another and my horse Thunder was beating him off. And as for the big one....I just did what I could, it didn't help that half way through, my left arm had broken and I wasn't able to hold myself in a fight anymore. But I tried, and when it threw me against the tree, I had no chance"
"But you fought it and lived" "No, I fought it, nearly died and then you and your soldiers turned up. I just got lucky" "Don't downplay what happend and what you did" "Why do you care anyway? I don't even see why you helped heal me either, I came onto your land without permission. You should have just left me there after you killed the spiders, I could have got myself back out of the forest" Simpathy now shines in his eyes. "Your not used to receiving help are you?" You fall silent, it occurs to you that he's actualy right. You have no family, no friends, just Thunder. And the majority of interactions you have with people are when they want something from you. And the ones that don't, only chat to you once they have your money. You weren't good at accepting help, you didn't feel like you deserve it, that's why you just wanted to leave this place and get back to what your life was. "The silence says it all Y/N......tell me....why do you not like to be referred to as (Lady)?" "How did you know I don't like that?" "I know many things....and I also saw that little eye roll when Elenwen called you that...I'm guessing with that fierce personality of yours, you have already told her you don't wish to be called that?" "Yeh, I did. I'm sorry, fierce?" "You don't think the same?" "Of course I don't, why do you?"
"Isn't it obvious? You travel these lands on your own, as I have not seen any companion with you. You travel everywhere to do others bidding for coin, you fight and slay monsters, you face danger and you have a flare for standing your ground and being what you want to be. I'd say that's a fierce personality if ever I've seen one" Why is he being so nice? "So again I ask you....why do you not like being called a lady?" "I don't behave like one, so I don't want to be called that" You are firm and strong in your answer, and yet strangely, he seems to like this. He has a small smile on his lips, why? "I must say.....I am impressed" "With what?" "......You of course" "Ok, what do you want?" "I beg your pardon?" "I said what do you want? You wouldn't be saying this kind of thing if you didn't want something from me. So what is it? Coin? To throw me in your dungeon?" "Y/N......I'm sorry" "Huh? For what?" "Im sorry that an extraordinary woman like you thinks that everyone is an enemy. You must have been through so much to think that, I'm sorry if I have said or done something to make you feel unsafe in my presence. I do not have an ulterior motive, I do not wish to throw you in the dungeon or take coin from you. I was simply giving you a compliment, you do impress me" Well....this was unexpected, you honestly didn't know what to say in response.
He held his hand out to you and said "You are my guest hear Y/N, and it's a pleasure to meet you" You take his hand with yours, it's surprisingly big, but soft and welcoming. He brought it to his lips and kissed your hand gently, all while keeping piercing eye contact. "And as my guest, you will be given any luxury you wish, what ever you wish for, you shall have" "That's really not necessarily, I don't need anything" "I insist...." "Look, I think it's just better if I go, I wouldn't want to take up your space or resources" "This is a palace, and as king I have overflowing resources. I must insist you stay until you are in a better condition" "I'm fine" "Do correct me if I'm wrong, but you are struggling to stand as we speak, and I can't see a part of you that isn't hurt. Please..." He does have a point, I suppose staying until your better makes sence, and him and his people have been helpful. "Alright, just until I'm ok to travel" "Wonderful....now, will you allow me to give you a tour of my home?" "Really?" "Of course, your going to have to know where things are if your going to be staying hear for a while" "Ok, it makes sense" "If you care to walk with me, I shall show you the palace" He offered his arm to you, but you politely declined with your hand, he nodded, but he was making sure to keep an eye on you, you were still weak from the spider attack.
He walked you through the palace and showed you many rooms and areas, kitchen, dining areas, balconies, beautiful rooms and many many other places in the palace. But he saved the best for last, he finaly lead you outside to the back of the palace, there was an enormous hidden garden at the back, and it was filled with sweet smelling wild flowers, fruit trees, planting areas and stables for horses. That's where you see Thunder. "Thunder!" He hears your voice and winnied at the sight of you, he happily trotted over to you and you hugged his face as he was finaly back with you. "Thank you for looking after him" "Your welcome, he is a wonderful animal. One of the strongest I've seen, and I've seen many over the years" "Thunder is a great horse, he's always been there for me. Anytime he sences danger, he won't leave my side" "A loyal animal....just like my stag I had many years ago....he unfortunately died in the last battle I fought" "If I may ask, was that the battle of the five armies?" "That's correct....I was there to retrieve something of mine, and I was willing to fight for it. But when the orc and goblins attacked too, I had to change my objective" "I've heard stories about the army, but not from someone who had been in the thick of it" "I do not wish to discuss it anymore" "That's fine, I'm not going to force you" He gives you a small smile, and you do too.
Your suddenly over come with a dizzy feeling, and your ribs hurt too. It causes you to loose your balance and hold your rib with your good arm, and within the second that happened, Thranduil is holding your back with his strong hands. "Y/N, what's wrong?" "I'm fine, just a little dizzy that's all" You say as he helps you stand back up again, still keeping one of his hands on your back. "Your still healing, you need time to rest. Allow me to take you to a part of the gardens where you can sit and I will stay to keep you company" "You don't have to keep me company if you don't want to you know" "I am the king, I can do what I wish. Thunder can come with us if it pleases you?" "That would be nice, thanks" This time when Thranduil offers you his arm, you take it. You didn't want to fall from pain or dizziness infront of him, so you did take his arm just this time. He lead you and Thunder through the rest of the garden to this wonderful river in the middle of this garden, there were other horses who were walking around wherever they liked, and Thunder happily trotted over to meet them. There was a beautifully carved wooden bench next to you, and Thranduil helped you to sit down and get comfortable.
His servants were all over the palace and gardens, and he asked one to bring some drinks and fresh food for you both, once they did, you simply sat and watched Thunder enjoying himself, whilst also getting to know Thranduil too. It was just general chit chat, getting to know eachother and finding out things about eachother. Hobbies, favourite food, memories, things you've done, your background in fighting and what you want to do in the future. For a king, he was surprisingly easy to talk too, and he didn't talk down to you, he treated you like an equal. After a few hours, that felt more like minutes, Thranduil got more trustworthy with you, and told you about the situation from the battle of the five armies. "My goal was to help the people who had been pushed out of their home in Dale, brought them food and medical supplies....but I did have a more pressing matter in mind....you see...many years before this happened, the late Thorin Oakenshield was in possession of some of my treasure, and I was intending to get it back" "And that's why you brought an army with you?" "The army was....a precaution..." "A precaution? There were 14 of them" "Nevertheless....it seemed it was good that I brought them with me....once the battle had begun"
"And....did you get your treasure back?" "I did....once the battle field was cleared and all those who fell in battle were laid to rest, including the late king. His kin, Dale Ironfoot returned the gems to me after Oakenshields funeral...and I brought them back to my home where they belong" "This treasure must have meant a lot to you" "Yes...you could say that..." "I'd think they would be to bring an army with you" He ever so slightly chuckled and said "I can't disagree with you on that" After your time spent getting to know eachother, he walked you back with Thunder to the horses stables, as it was time for the dinner to be served, Thunder was going to be fed with the other horses too. Thranduil lead you into the dining room, where the table was laden with so many different and delicious smelling foods, it made you feel like hunger was puching your stomach. Thranduil helped you to sit beside him, and the servants were all there to serve you food and your choice of wine too. This was so strange for you to experience, you hadn't been waited on before, there was a part of you that wanted to help the servers take the used plates down to the kitchen and help with the cleaning. But when you tried to offer any help, Thranduil said you needed the rest, you were a guest in the palace, and the kitchen had plenty of other staff to help them, and they were all paid very well for their jobs. Maybe that was just the commoner in you, wanting to do your bit, but now that you think of it, most of the staff in hear looked like they had better health and more wealth than many lords and ladies you had met throughout middle earth.
Once you were both fed and the table was cleared, Thranduil offered to walk you around the outside of the palace to view the beauty of the night before taking you back to your room. You accepted and together you both walked outside and witnessed the plants, trees and wildlife glow almost with this magical blue aura, it was like being in a magical hideaway. "This place is even more beautiful outside" "I agree, I do tend to just sit out hear most evenings and observe it's unique beauty" "Your so lucky to live hear" "It's my birthright, I'm not sure luck is anything to do with it. I'm sure your home is just as impressive" "If I had I home I might have been able to describe it" ".......You?....Don't have a home?" "Nope" "But.....where do you live? How do you manage to keep going? Where do you even sleep?" "I don't live anywhere, I don't have a house of my own, I just sleep anywhere there is a space. Weather it be in a tavern, if I have the coin for it. Or if I don't have coin, I'll just sleep under the stars on a bed roll or something. I keep going taking any work I can, I don't get much coin, but I don't need it, all I need is food, a place to rest my head on a night, and Thunder. And I don't have to be rich to have those things" "I'm.....I'm sorry this has burdened you" "Burdened? Don't be silly, I'm not burdened. There are people out there who are in far worse positions that me, I'm grateful for what I have" "But....don't you wish you could have more?" "Of course I do, what person wouldn't. But in life, whatever we want can't just happen magically or form out of thin air. Maybe in the future if I save some coin, I could rent a room out of a shared home, or something that won't result in me sleeping under a tree. But it's not a big issue for me"
He chuckled again "What's funny?" "I just....find it amazing how you can be happy, with so little in your life. No home, and yet...hear you are...smiling" "Because it's not the end of the world" You both smile, and your also nearly to your room again. Thranduil stands with you outside your door and bids you a good night, once again kissing the back of your hand. "Y/N, do tell me....where is it you normally stay if you have the coin?" "Well, it's Bree. It's right in the middle of all the places I travel too, and it's the perfect point to stop during travels. I could stay there for a good few days before I'm off again" "That's very interesting to know.....well, I shall leave you to rest...good night Y/N" "Goodnight Thranduil"
He gave you one last small smile, and walked back the way he came, presumably to go to bed himself. You enter your room and sit down on the bed, getting into some comfortable sleeping clothes, as you think about the whole day. You had just spent the day talking to and getting to know the king of the woodland elves, the KING! And after the stories you had heard about him, you now had your own, and a new perspective to think on. Despite him being a king, he was the first person to show you any kind of decency or respect, without wanting or needing something in return. It was a strange, yet welcoming thing to experience. You kept thinking about it as you drifted off to sleep, in the super soft bed that felt like you were sleeping on a cloud.
Staying in a palace for the next few days was so nice, and made a big change from being on horse back, or fighting to find a place to rest your head for the night. Thranduil had been so kind to you, helpful and really friendly. It seemed like he was coming out of this hardened shell, like he hadn't really had this kind of interaction with people for a long time. Yes he was surrounded by servants, but they were there to do a job, not to converse. You got the impression Thranduil was lonely, didn't he have any family? Children? Or a wife? It had been 3 days since you first arrived, and your bond with Thranduil was now close enough to call a genuine friendship, you both liked being around eachother, and got on like a house in fire. He was still reserved about many things, but that was understandable, you didn't pry into his personal affairs. You were finaly healed and were in fighting shape, and now you were ready to go back to that man in Bree to see if his son got back, and to collect your reward. You and Thranduil were sitting on a bench in the garden as the stars shone like diamonds in the sky, it was a warm evening and the air still had the scent of the warm pastries the kitchen staff had prepared for yours and Thranduils deserts that evening. As you sat, you both reflected on the bond you had struck, and the moments you had shared since forming this friendship.
"I can't believe I've been hear for nearly a week" "It's gone by quickly" "Absolutely, it will be nice to see Bree again though. And to see if that stupid son got back to his father in one piece" "If he didn't, are you planning to smack him again?" "Maybe....if he's not been an idiot" You both share a small laugh, and Thranduil keeps his smile, he didn't use to do that. If you were lucky you'd catch a glimpse of a smirk, but now, it was like he was a new man. "And don't forget, me and my kin will walk you through the forest to ensure you have safe passage" "That's kind of you, thank you. I won't lie...I'm a little nervous to go back out there again" "There is no need to be nervous, I will protect you with my life" "Your very kind" There is a comfortable silence as you watch the stars, when Thranduil says "Do you wish to return hear?" "Pardon?" "I mean....If you wish to return, you are more than welcome" "Is this your way of asking if I'll come back and visit you?" "........." "Thranduil...do you want me to visit you?" ".....That would.....be nice" "Then yes, when I close by, I'll come and visit" You could tell he was nervous about asking you that, but secretly you were happy he wanted you to come back, you were really going to miss him.
"I find....that I don't have anyone around to keep me company as of late. My son, Legolas he.....he is on his own path" "Don't you have anyone else hear with you? I wasn't sure if you were married either" "I was....a very long time ago.....you see, many years ago, I was betrothed by royal demand. Her name was Calathiel, she lived I'm Mithlond before travelling to Lothlórien, we were wed and we produced an heir, my son Legolas. But our marriage wasn't meant to be" "Oh?" "Whilst we were married and did what was expected of us, the love was only one sided. I did love her, and care for her a great deal. But alas, it was not reciprocated. There was a war that needed my help, and when I was gone, she ran from the palace....leaving Legolas behind. Once I found out, I came home and ordered everyone to find her....but it was too late. She was captured and tortured in Gundabad, she died there.....I have not spoken about her since" "Thranduil, I'm sorry that happened, I really am" "Worry not for me....this was the reason I took myself and my army to Erabor many years ago. They had the neclace and gems that belonged to my late wife, and I was there to take them back. They were all I had left of her, or so I thought. It wasn't until after the battle that I realised, my son....Legolas, he was.....I didn't need the gems, all I needed was him. But he chose to walk his own path, and now I have not seen him in many years"
He sounded heart broken by this, whatever happened between him and Legolas has scarred him. No wonder he seems lonely, he doesn't have anyone, you were glad you formed a bond with him, you both needed someone to be there for. "I'm sure Legolas is alright out there Thranduil, and I'm very sorry to hear about what happend to your wife. I would just like to say though...thank you for trusting me enough to tell me, I know this can't have been easy for you to say" "Thank you, your kind to say this" Thranduil had the most majestic voice that had such depth and command, and yet there was vulnerability there. You didn't hear that vulnerability with anyone else in the palace...just you. "It's late, I think you should get some rest. It's going to be a long day of travel for you if your going to Bree" "Yes your right, Thunder fell alseep ages ago, he'll be fine in the morning. I hope you sleep well Thranduil" "You too Y/N" Your just heading away from him, when you stop, think, then turn to him and say "Thranduil?" "Yes?" "Why don't you make me call you "king?" Or "your majesty" Like the others do in the palace?" He smiles and says "Many reasons, but my favourite.....I like hearing my name from those perfect lips of yours. It's like music" You had never blushed more than you had at that very moment, that was like poetry! You couldn't even speak, so you just give him a smile back, and head off upstairs to your room, still feeling the warmth in your cheeks as you go to sleep.
The next morning, you were dressed and ready to go back to Bree. Thranduil and you shared a breakfast as Thunder was being fed and readied for the trip, and once you had finished, you both headed down to the stables where there were 10 other elves waiting on horse back for you both. Thunder was rearing to go, and you gave him a cuddle before climbing onto his back. "Onwards" Thranduil declared, and into the forest you all went. According to him, the path they would take would only be a 20 minute walk to the exit of the forest, that was a relief to you. But there was something that was about to happen that you weren't expecting, something that would frighten you. You and the others were half way through the forest, when all the shadows and shapes of the forest were playing with your eyes. Your heart rate was creeping up at an alarming pace, sweat was forming on your brow, and your body and hands started to uncontrollably shake. Thunder could sence this about you, and stopped, allowing the others to see you were in distress. Thranduil stopped to see you looking as white as snow, shaking and struggling to breath properly, this instantly made him cause everyone to halt, and he was off his stag and by Thunders side within seconds. He was holding your hand, trying desperately to get your attention, but you were locked in this zone of panic, white noise and ringing filled your ears, but soon Thranduils voice was managing to break that.
"Y/N! Y/N take my hand! Let me help you down" You manage to hold his hand and he carefully takes you into his arms and helps you off of Thunder. "Keep watch all of you!" He demands as he helps you sit on a nearby tree root, your still shaking, and your body is full of adrenaline, you couldn't stop it. "Y/N! Look at me ok? Just look at my eyes" Finaly able to meet his gaze, his piercing blue and white gaze, his calm and steady words slowly eased you.
He knew you needed something to ground you, to make you feel safe, so he drapes his beautiful golden cloak around your back and shoulders. It was so warm, and it smelled like him, like the earth after a rainstorm. "Let's take a deep breath in......and out, just like that. Let's keep doing that ok? In.....and out" He continues to do this with you for what felt like hours, even though it was more like minutes, he never leaves your side or let's go of your hand. It takes you a little while longer for the shaking to stop, the ringing to go and your body to finaly calm down again. You were left with this achey pain, like the aches you get from the flu, you knew this was because of your body going into over drive. But Thranduil refused to leave until you were back to normal again, no matter how long it took. He also made sure you had something to drink, that was very kind of him. "Alright, your pulse is back to normal now, how are you feeling?" "Better than I was. I'm sorry about that. I was just having flashbacks of the spider attack, and-"
"There is no need to apologise, it was a terrible thing to experience. Of course it's not going to be easy for you, your safe now" You took a deep breath and gave him a smile, he could see you were feeling better, but he still kept a keen eye on you. He helped you back onto Thunder, and you all carried on to the exit. He would stay close by with his stag to make sure you were ok, he was so protective. When you all finaly got to the edge of the forest, and walk under the same archway you entered before, it was the end of your time with Thranduil. You climbed off Thunder and Thranduil climbed off his stag, the rest of the elves stayed close to the entrance as you both took a moment to talk. "Are you sure your going to be alright travelling the rest of the way on your own?" "Yes I'm sure, I've made this journey hundreds of times" "I'm guessing it would be nice if you had a place of your own instead of sleeping rough for the rest of your days?" "Yes it would be nice, but like I've said before, it's something I'll just have to work for. It was....wonderful getting to know you Thranduil, and I would love to visit you again" "I would very much like that too.....meeting you....has changed me....in the best way. Your kind soul, your beauty....it's like being blessed with a fallen star. Pure, and unique....and the days I have spent with you have been a blessing"
And once again, he has made your heart skip, your cheeks blush, and has made beautiful poetry with just a simple sentence. "Thranduil....that's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me. I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for me" "There is nothing I want in return Y/N, your happiness and safety is more than I could ask for" You had no words, no idea how to show him how much you care about him. So instead, you lean up, rest your hand on his chest and press a kiss to his cheek. You wanted desperately to kiss his lips instead, but all of his soldiers were there. This time, it was the handsome king who was blushing. "When I'm close by, I'll come and see you again Thranduil" "And I will be waiting for you" One last smile and a wave was given as you climb back onto Thunder, and you gallop off in the direction of Bree. Thunder was very well fed and cared for by the elves, and being so, he was so much faster. He managed to ride into Bree within half the time of the last time you traveled, it was the late afternoon by the time you arrived back in Bree. Your priority now was to find the man who sent you to Mirkwood in the first place, and to find out if his son made it back too. It took about 10 minutes for you to walk through Bree, and see that man in a front garden, planting some vegetables. "Good day sir" "Oh! Oh it's you!" This man shouted in happiness as he ran to you and shook your hand. "Y/N I am so thankful you made it out of that dreadful place! My son told me what happened, and how he wasn't sure you made it or not" "So he got back in one piece then?" "Oh yes he did, with his tale between his legs!"
This just made you chuckle, and you can see behind the house, the same man who you saved, raking up cut grass. "He's serving his punishment, but all is forgiven from our falling out. May I ask, how did you manage to defeat those spiders" "Well I didn't really defeat them, I managed to kill 1, wound the other and the biggest one nearly killed me. But it was the woodland elves who saved me, if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be hear right now" "The woodland elves of Mirkwood? I've heard stories, but none from anyone who have actualy met them. They saved you?" "They did, and they are very nice people....it was a pleasure to meet them" "That's lovely to hear, and it's good to know your safe. Now! Let me pull these little beauties out" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of gems. "Oh no that's alright, that's too much" "You are not leaving hear without adequate payment young lady" "What about just half the bag? A full bag seems too much" You....risked your life to save my child. I would give everything in my possession to have him home. You have done us a great honour, and you deserve every last one of these"
He puts the bag in your hand and holds it there for you, determined you keep them. "Your very kind" "The world needs more people like you, thank you for everything that you've done" He leaves to go back to his gardening, and you smile as you walk back to Thunder. "Looks like a nice cosy night in the stables for you old friend" you say giving him a pat on his side. You start to lead him through Bree, when a tall looking figure walks up to you, looking very pleased. "Good day Y/N" "Ummm? Hi? Have we met?" "Oh no we haven't yet, my apologies. My name is Fendin, it's a pleasure to meet you" "So? Can I help you with something?" "Oh yes indeed, if you'd like to follow me, I've been asked to show you something" He started walking in the opposite direction, you had no idea if this was a trap or someone trying to sell you something, but you could handle yourself against one....was he an elf? Still keeping a distance, you follow him and he leads you to this magnificent and beautiful house just towards the end of the street. It has it's own stables filled with everything you could need for a horse, and you could see through the windows of the house, luxury seating areas, a big comfortable bedroom, bathing room, living room and kitchenette.
"Ok, Fendin. I'm confused, why have you shown me this house?" "Because this is your house" Huh?! "No no no, you definitely have the wrong person. I've never owned a house in my lifetime. The longest I've stayed inside a building was over night in a tavern. I haven't the coin to own a house" "He said you may act this way" "He? Who's he?" Fendin reached into his pocket and pulled out a sealed letter, he handed it to you before he started showing Thunder some attention. Wanting to know what was going on, you open the letter, and it read:
My dearest Y/N
I have sent my friend Fendin to show you around your new home. I have much coin and this home is my gift to you, you deserve a place to live, not just survive. I knew he would get the house ready before you would arive, and I hope he gives you the full tour. Your the most extraordinary woman I have ever known, and everything I told you before you left was the truth from the very depths of my heart. There is also a stable for Thunder to have a home too, he deserves it. I look forward to seeing you again....and maybe next time you can aim those beautiful lips of yours on another target? Enjoy your new home.
Thranduil
Thranduil bought you a house! He bought you and Thunder a house!....a home... "So, may I show you around the inside of the property Y/N? I would like to see if the colour scheme is to your liking" "Fenrin, no matter the colour, I am more than happy to see my new home" He smiled with glee as you let Thunder roam around his new and spacious stable, and Fenrin enters the house with you flowing. But just before you enter, you hover outside the door, holding the letter from Thranduil and looking up at the house. Thranduil had bought you a house, a place to call your own. For so long you have been looking for a home.....but maybe, just maybe.....a home isn't necessarily a house....sometimes a home....has a heartbeat....
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Of course asking people which monster they find more fuckable is a good way to get them to say funny things, so I got a lot of funny comments on the Most Fuckable Monster in the Dungeon Tournament. So as usual, I compiled a list of the ones I liked best, ordered by the poll they were commented on. Enjoy!
Barometz vs Dryad (round 1 part 1)
dryad boobs in my mouth please please please you're nothing
Man-eating plant vs Mandrake (round 1 part 1)
getting my dick digested by a pitcher plant
its what laios would have wanted
Skeleton vs Dullahan (round 1 part 1)
why is the armor sweeping?? how are ya'll planning to fuck the armor??? at least the skeleton you could like wedge a vibrator or fleshlight into the pelvis. I forgot this is the celibacy site and fucking is not a real physical thing on here
fools do not see the eroticisim of plate armor
Phoenix vs Harpy (round 1 part 2)
harpy has a tits out kinda look
Griffin vs Hippogriff (round 1 part 2)
Me at first: really? You’d fuck the horse? Me, remembering the barded penises of felines : no wait you’re right
White dragon vs Red dragon (round 1 part 3)
It's canon that white dragons fight furiously while red dragon is the equivalent of that blue hands dinosaur in Prehistoric Planet
white dragon is cuntier somehow
Treasure insects vs Succubus (round 1 part 3)
another tits out kinda look
normal poll matchup. normal poll. do people want to fuck a succubus or inch long insects. who will win
Huge scorpion vs Huge spider vs Mimic (round 1 part 3)
What you do to the mimic is hidden from the eyes of all
The mimics got that dog in it
dark souls mimic resemblances have me thinking unwise
something about the mysterious air around the mimic
Golem vs Ice golem (round 1 part 4)
Same deal but one freezes ur junk off I think the winner is clear
Gargoyle vs Hag (round 1 part 4)
..abusive mother kink????
Familiar vs Jack Frost (round 1 part 4)
familiar is customizable 👍
Doppelganger vs Demon (round 1 part 4)
That stupid sexy cat simply slays too much cunt
Hippogriff vs Fish-man (round 2 part 1)
no offense to my buddy fish-man but that hippogriff is too majestic
Living armour vs Undine (round 2 part 2)
One if the extras has a really perturving bit: Undines fed by consuming liquids with mana. Holm mentions regularly feeding it BODILY FLUIDS.
is wearing living armor anything
White dragon vs Green dragon (round 3)
she made that dragon sooooo cunty and for what
Cockatrice vs Demon (round 3)
you should've put the slutiest picture of the demon. to remind everyone that ryoko -sensei is down BAD
no one: ryoko kui: i am going to make a lion demon that is SOOOOOOO [redacted]
everybody vote for demon! a vote for demon is a love letter to Ryoko Kui
I do find it funny we're blowing the demon whore moments on like, the cockatrice matchup
This manga is so slutty and yet so tasteful in it that you can't really call it anything but great in every aspect of its eroticism
Mermaid vs Harpy (quarter finals)
i am so mad rn. a mermaid !? more fuckable than a harpy!? for shame tumblr for shame
White dragon vs Succubus (quarter finals)
Dragon fluffye!
Chimera vs Mermaid (semi-finals)
sorry mermaid. falin fucks supremely.
sorry falin. gotta stand up for my fellow merfolk here
a vote for chimera is a vote for lesbians
Succubus vs Demon (semi-finals)
Not even the sucubbi stands up to the limitless demon sexo
if you think about it. the succubus can turn into the demon's many forms
Chimera vs Demon (finale)
fags and dykes fighting to the death over this one
Listen man. Even if I'm gay I understand why Falin is winning but- Consider that the demon knows your exact wants and desires and could satisfy your sexual needs perfectly. Also when he's buff and humanoid near the end
either of them deserve to win but demon sweep because that fucker showed up in a dream to me once
teef!!!!
VOTE FOR DYKES. VOTE FOR SLEEPY GIRLS. VOTE FOR SHARP LITTLE TEETH
Mermaid vs Succubus (battle for the bronze)
mermaids can't lose to magical mosquito people PLEASE
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Pictures taken seconds before disaster.
You might have received alerts about this mod updating a bunch over the past few days, after me saying I was done with it, in true aylin_origin_final_final(2)final.pak spirit. Well, now I am done with it, unless someone finds some glaring issues.
You might also notice the little icon pop up that says the mod uses Osiris scripting - that's because I now run a little start-of-game script to handle Aylin's tags and some general setup, so she gets tagged as an aasimar in dialogues no matter what race you pick to play as stat-wise, and also to remove the "Baldurian" tag from her, because it just didn't make sense for her to have it. She also, like all origins, now has her own unique "Aylin"/"Really Aylin" tag. This doesn't do much. For now.
Note, since I've seen some confusion about this: there is no new dialogue or reactivity added to the game with this mod. It's all stuff that was already there. Aasimar are simply considered to fall under the "rare races" tag group, which means you'll get a bunch of these "oh, we don't see your kind around here much!" reactions and responses. You'd get the same ones if you were, say, a dragonborn or githyanki. I also don't have the power to change the game's fundamental storyline - this is mostly a cosmetic mod. I say this primarily because of the lovely person who commented to ask me what would happen when they arrived in Act 2 and if playing as Aylin meant the "real one" wasn't imprisoned anymore, which genuinely made my day but also made me vaguely sad.
Alas, no, it will all happen as it always has, no matter my personal willingness to fistfight Balthazar and Ketheric in a parking lot for that face up there. You'll just have two Aylins on screen during some segments which, yeah, is kind of immersion-breaking, but is also honestly a win in my books.
Also redone: her starting equipment! Again, since other origin characters have their own personalised sets, I thought it fitting to have Aylin start with the Vengeance Paladin equipment, except the warhammer is replaced with a greatsword. She also gets a bag with her iconic armour safely stowed away (primarily so that the helmet doesn't interfere with customising her hair in the character creator). It's got the stats of basic plate and no special abilities - it's mostly there for cosmetic purposes.
I also thought she should have a little souvenir.
Wings Unlocked over on mod.io is a nice and simple and noninvasive way I've found to have wings you can turn on and off, aasimar style. This is accomplished by making them an item and equipping them in the underwear slot. You know, truly putting the ass in aasimar.
As a final little starting inventory tidbit, I decided there wasn't enough gay yearning in the game, so I made sure to sprinkle some more in there - while also figuring out the letters/books system. This is something that's probably way too wordy to actually be an in-game text, but I saw a chance to have a bit of fun and I took it.
Full text under the cut.
[Worn Letter]
[A carefully creased and pressed bit of fine stationery, yellowed with age. It appears to have survived much, with parts of it stained and worn beyond legibility despite its owner's clear efforts to preserve it.]
My dearest angel, The days and nights without you at my side have been long, though I try to fill them as best as I can. While I shudder to think what dangers you wade through and what sinister plots you leave crushed in your wake, the thought of you taking the time to write in the midst of it all fills me with warmth beyond compare. We are all as well as can be. Father is as he always is, and I admit to an increasing desire to inform him of our plans to leave for our pilgrimage. But I'm getting ahead of myself; those are words best spoken in person. You asked for tidings - I cannot hope to match your poetic turn of phrase, but I'll relay what sleepy little Reithwin has been up to in your absence. There was an accident with a snapped pulley while some of old master Morfred's men were lifting marble blocks for carving. Miraculously, though I was called to assist at the House of Healing immediately, there were no injuries save for scuffs and bruises. The masons are back on their feet, fretting over ruined scaffolding and delayed statuary work. I took the liberty of trying to reassure them that the Moonmaiden won't mind too badly. In more pleasant news, we found a loving home for the last pup from Squire's litter, so both of you can rest easy at last. She and the potter's children took a shine to each other so quickly, it was a true joy to behold. I'd wager you'll spot them frolicking around when you fly over the riverside fields on your way back. I picture the looks on your beloved, handsome face as I regale you - always so wonderfully expressive! - as we sit huddled together before my fireplace at day's end. Selûne willing, I will have you back in my arms soon. I gaze up at her every night as I await your return, knowing you must be looking upon her yourself, and I pray she keeps you safe in her light. Though your duties to Our Lady send you questing far and wide, I know, as surely as the tides turn and the moon cycles through her path in the sky, she will always guide you back to me, and me to you. Until then, I do the one thing I can, and pour onto this paper whatever feeling these poor words can hold. I love you. I lov--
#dame aylin#baldur's gate 3#bg3#aylin kintsugi mod#mods#oathkeeper writes things#but when you really think about it#this is a lot of the same joy as 12 year old me pulling apart neverwinter nights#except this time i can help the sad paladin lady#true i still can't *kiss* the paladin lady without mods#but that's because she's simply busy kissing a different lady#and i love that for me#for all of us#praise selune
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Of Dreams and Legends
In the middle of the night you have a heart to heart with the legendary Gromsko. You learn what inspires him to keep fighting, and somehow, that includes you.
Pairing: Sobiesław “Gromsko” Kościuszko x GN!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Confessions, Friends to Lovers
Word Count: 3.1k
Warning: My interpretation of Gromsko’s character, Reader doesn’t know Polish
A/N: Something about Gromsko’s voicelines and bio just makes him seem like an old heroic story in the making to me, so I wrote about it a lil 😌
The air held a chill tonight, lightly nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and face. Zipping up your jumper you laid with your back against the cold surface to look up to the skies. It probably would be for the best that you head back inside, but it wasn’t every night the sky would be this clear. To admire the sublime in the stars as they twinkled down at you. These days they are known as nothing more than gargantuan balls of gas, the unwanted remains of the universe, but how could one not romanticise the sight above you? Up in the expansive skies, every battle paled in comparison. These mundane balls of gas have been unchanging for millenia, the skies you are looking up now, how many others are admiring it? Not just tonight but in the years of yore. Battle armour, weaponry, nation borders and all would have changed, yet when all was done and dusted, you would all be looking up at the same skies.
A bang and a foreign curse had you jolting out of your reverie. Gaze upside down, you shot a glare at who was intruding, only to relax at the welcome sight of a familiar face.
“Sobiesław?”
“Serduszko, you do not make it easy to find you,” he grunted, grabbing his leg to manually get it over the railing.
“I just wanted to admire the night skies.”
“On the roof of our base?”
You shrugged. Sobiesław walked towards you, each footstep heavy against the roof panels, sending reverberations that vibrated rhythmically against your back with a pleasant hum.
He stood beside you, feet by your knees as he followed your gaze to the skies. Hands as fists on his waist, he made a startled noise before turning to you again.
“Did you not wish to be found? I will return to the others, alone time can be good for a soldier.”
“No, no. You’re always welcome,” you grinned.
Sobiesław’s face always held a slight scowl, it was intimidating until you realised it was unintentional. He says it was because he has spent years surrounded by skurwysyny (a word he has refused to translate for you but given how freely he says it to the enemy, you got the gist of it). Still, despite his natural frown, it softens at your words.
“It is hard to see but there is a star formation, named after a Polish king.”
You offer an inquisitive tilt of the head at his comment, wordlessly inviting him as you shift to the side to make space for him. He situated himself down beside you with a grunt of effort and you were lost for words as he adjusted to get himself comfortable against the rough texture of the roof. Sobiesław wasn’t the tallest nor the most imposing of soldiers in your company, but he managed to become a member of SpecGru for a reason. His frame was broad and sturdy, the breathing image of the quintessential soldier, postered on walls as propaganda to rouse even the most reluctant to action. His form emanated a comforting and welcome heat that soothed the bite of the night air. All of a sudden you felt rather sleepy.
Sobiesław raised an arm, pointing at the night sky. Even under his clothes you could see the curves of his muscles stretch out the wrinkles of his sleeve. The boulder that was his shoulder leading to the chain of muscle that was his bicep, linking to his forearm that was slightly flexed with the angle of his hand. Even his finger, relaxedly pointed to a dark patch in the sky, seemed determined.
“It is hard to see, but it should be there.”
Sobiesław pulls himself closer to you so that you can follow his directed hand better, a move that made you far too conscious that you were with him, alone and isolated from the rest of the company. And with the slight quirk of his lip, you were sure he was aware too.
“Scutum Sobiescianum, Shield of Sobieski. A Polish king who defended Vienna from the Turks. This was centuries ago, but I still feel great pride when I hear such an achievement.”
You stay quiet as you squint, trying to look into the supposed darkness to find this supposed constellation of defence. After some investigating you let out a sigh of defeat. You dropped your head onto the roof, creating a light thud. Sobiesław let out a hearty chuckle, turning his body so he can reach over with his far arm, offering you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. You responded with a pout, his sheer strength meant that your body shook slightly with each pat.
“Do not worry, you do not have to see it, just know it is there,” Sobiesław reassured, giving your shoulder an extra squeeze before retreating his arm. “Aiding as a shield for allies is honourable, even if he was only abiding by a treaty.”
“You’ve always liked your history, haven’t you?”
“Greatly. Learning about the victories of the past is motivating.”
You’re not surprised. Sobiesław was not an old man and he didn’t carry himself as such, but he conducted himself in a way you have not seen in anyone else, especially on the battlefield. In combat, a soldier is selfish out of the primal need for survival. One follows orders because that’s the best chance they have of keeping their head attached to their shoulders. To deny themselves the responsibility of atrocities committed, even complacency and teamwork is just a desperate act of self-preservation, one that everyone is guilty of and can not condemn.
But Sobiesław was different. He never seemed to fight for himself. On missions, even under the glare of his signature glasses, he was always looking past the objective, over the horizon and to something greater. No matter how long he spent on foreign soil, he left the stamp of his motherland under his boots as he marched onward. Whenever you fell in battle, body unrecognisable in a coating of blood that you’re not sure is yours or the enemy’s, he is there to pick you up. Not only literally but spiritually as he rouses you to keep fighting with words of encouragement that strike the cords of your heart. Words that you swore were taken from an ancient scripture with how they unleash reservoirs of energy lost deep in your soul. His words were loud and panicked, but not once is it out of concern for his own well-being, or how the mission or his military career could be jeopardised if anything else goes wrong. In those moments, he was fighting and breathing for you.
“Did it motivate you to enlist?”
“Yes. It motivated me before I realised.”
You frowned at his odd answer.
“How so?”
“I had a dream,” he stated, nostalgia warming his voice. He pulled his head in, craning his neck at an odd angle to speak to you quietly, like he was giving you the secrets of the universe. With a wave of the hand he ushers you in and you entertain him.
“When I was little, I always dreamt of a hussar before I even knew what they were. I think it was fate, a sign from above for me to enlist.”
You stare at him in disbelief.
“There was actually a painting of a hussar in the living room of my babcia… I don’t tell anyone that last bit, it is more fun that way.”
You failed miserably at stifling a laugh, in return he smiles as he pulls away. Even with the extra tidbit of information, his motivations still felt almost fable-like, like a myth in the making.
“I can see it,” you giggled, lifting your arms up in the air as you gestured animatedly. “The old wives will be talking about the legendary Gromsko. The quintessential soldier, called to action by the restless spirit of an old warrior in his dreams. He becomes the inspiration for all the future generations. The story of the chosen one who saves the world!”
“I tell you too much,” Sobiesław groans.
“They should make a movie out of you.”
“I am too boring.”
“You’re too humble.”
Sobiesław laughed, but you did not. Leaving the sight of the stars - you had still been half-heartedly trying to distinguish the shield of a king from the darkness - you fully turned to him. You ignored the dull throb of your arm now squished between your body weight and the roof, far too distracted by how close you were to him now that the two of you were facing each other.
“Truly. Even without the dreams I think you’re an inspiration.”
You didn’t realise how sentimental you sounded until you released your words into the air. You consequently chewed at your lips, forcefully sealing them. Your voice didn’t have to fight against the midnight breeze, instead your words settled comfortably in the small space between the two of you, warm and festering in the silence.
Sobiesław was unresponsive, eyebrows far more furrowed than usual. Feigning your embarrassment as getting comfortable against the ceiling, you dipped your head down to avoid seeing his reaction.
“Do you still have that dream?” You asked hurriedly.
“... No.”
It wasn’t everyday you heard Sobiesław hesitate. He had a gruff voice that was quick to speak his mind. It was so honest that his thoughts were often unfiltered in Polish and accompanied with colourful curses to add some extra honesty. There was even the odd, throaty, unintelligible sound as his mouth worked quicker than his mind. But here he was, strategising his next words to you.
“I stopped having that dream when I joined SpecGru.”
You blinked, almost fully flinching away from him in a knee-jerk reaction.
“Ah…”
You couldn’t help but shrink into yourself, drawing your knees close to your vitals. While you did not regret joining SpecGru, you knew for a fact it was not for the faint of heart. What made waking up at base easier was the people there, with a certain Polish man heartily hollering good morning to you on the daily at 6am sharp with a voice that consequently woke up the rest of the barracks. The fact he never failed to give you a pat on the back, still having the energy to look optimistically to the next day even with the losses of a mission gone south. Even on quiet nights like these, while few and far between, you would be able to catch a glimpse of the man under the near brutish exterior. Behind the mythos and acts of altruism was a human with their own selfish needs and doubts. A sensitive man who related to you and brought you comfort when the darkness of battle bled over to your consciousness.
You had only hoped you could have done the same for him.
“I take it SpecGru didn’t meet expectations?”
You couldn’t stop the waver in your voice.
“Huh? No, it exceeded them, Serduszko.”
He turned away, back flat on the roof. Once again he looks to the cosmos, honing in on something beyond your comprehension.
“I am not done yet. I still wish to see the glory of Poland, but I want my own happiness.”
“Naturally,” you nod. Out of all the soldiers you knew, no one deserved a happy ending more than him. One where the monster is slain, peace is restored, and the hero lives happily ever after.
“I dream of returning home, I will bring my friends of new to the land of old.”
You offered a light hum of approval. It was such a simple wish, but wasn’t that the case for all heroes? To wish for something so mundane but to naturally bring greatness? Even when their dreams are supposedly selfish, their innate kindness brings glory to the good and delivers swift justice to those necessary.
“You are there,” Sobiesław murmured. Like a dream you question if he even spoke, voice so airy it blended with the rush of the breeze against your ears. Even the coarse edges of his voice become one with the low tones emanating from a nearby ventilation unit.
“You are in all of my dreams.”
Sobiesław is not looking at you, attention still trained on the stars, perhaps waiting for one to shoot across the sky. To make a wish, any little bit of aid to make a dream come true and you’re tempted to try and shoot one down for him with a rifle. Anything for him. Perhaps it was possible to fight selflessly, to bring another’s dream to fruition. Was there such a thing as staying alive for someone else? To spend your missions ensuring you return to base not for your own self, but so Sobiesław will have someone to bring home? But you can not guarantee your own life. You refused to make empty promises - Sobiesław absolutely hates them - so instead, you only offer your flimsy honesty.
“I think that dream is doable.”
“You are the hardest part about it.”
“What?”
You sat up immediately. You shot a light-hearted glare but your heart genuinely felt a pang at the sadness invading Sobiesław’s voice. How his nose twitches, trying to prevent a frown from settling on his face.
“But I’m right here!” You brought both hands to hammer at your chest, nailing in your point. “I better not be kicked out of SpecGru anytime soon. I’d love to be one of the friends you bring back home-”
“Ha!”
Sobiesław lets out a singular laugh, all air escaping his lungs to create a foreign sound that is as bitter as it is loud. You were sure he frightened a couple birds in a nearby tree who decided to migrate early from the disruption. You hoped none of the operators went to bed early else they would have had a nasty wake up call as his voice travelled in all directions, invading any of the open windows in the base.
When the echoes of his laugh settled to the ground, it dragged the warmth in the air with it. A sombre coldness came tenfold, you started to wrap your arms around your form, entering a foetal position as you looked at Sobiesław.
“It is my fault,” his confession comes out in a low groan, bringing up a hand to rub at his face. In between rubs he lets out a few quiet curses, words strained. When he is done, he still isn’t looking at you.
“I do not want to bring you back to Poland as just a friend.”
He dared to look at you and the light in his eyes snatched the air out of your lungs. Even under furrowed eyebrows his pupils were blown wide, taking you in as if you were the stars themselves. All seeing, all knowing. Even though you thought nothing special of yourself he turns to you with reverence as if you were the one who could make all his dreams come true.
You bring your gaze up to the sky, in hopes that the infinite expanse of the universe could do anything for your pounding heart. But they did little to settle your heart or your hasty breaths. The stars above really weren’t anything of wonder, were they? A shooting star is only a meteor, a large rock that will disintegrate in due time. The heroes of the past were often only average joes that were in the right place at the right time. Dreams were only the remnants of memories and experiences being fired off by neurons, to be forgotten in the void once one wakes up.
And yet you couldn’t help but romanticise it all the same.
It wouldn’t hurt, would it? Just like how Sobiesław keeps prancing around the base telling everyone his childhood dreams of a hussar were “fate”, couldn’t you make this fate too? Magical, like a prophecy. A promise that could survive any time or mission, that holds strong even against fate itself. The tale of Sobiesław’s recurring dreams that guide him to glory and consequently to you. A legend of your own.
“Then don’t,” you whispered.
“Take me to Poland as your lover.”
You didn’t think Sobiesław could look at you anymore in awe than before, but tonight was full of surprises. A heavy pause stills the air as he takes just a moment too long to understand your words. You couldn’t help but smile at how his face contorted with shock and confusion, he probably didn’t expect you to reciprocate so suddenly. But just like him, you had been dreaming of a scenario like this.
“You always have such good ideas,” Sobiesław chuckled. His boyish grin is roughened by his ragged features, but it doesn’t make it any less endearing. Pure and genuine, it had been a long time since you had seen such an expression on him. Sitting up, he reaches over to slide you across to him and again you find yourself ogling his impressive musculature. The fibres of his body swelling and flexing, his every move seemed to embody the strength of a hundred warriors. Such power and potential devoted to little old you as Sobiesław pulls you flush to his own body.
He’s like an overgrown heater, his body warmth emanating even through the thick wool of his jumper. Warm as though he was the very campfire that soldiers lit up for peace and respite at the end of a day of bloodshed. But not as warm as the lips that pressed against yours when you tilted your head to look up at him. His lips were a little chapped, the remnants of his celebratory vodka adding a crisp tang to the kiss. His actions driven by sheer passion, an arm now circling your shoulder blades and pulling you impossibly tight to him. You were trapped in his embrace, whole body entranced by his. All that was on your mind was the feeling of his being surrounding you. His calloused hands gripped onto you with a pleasant burn. Even as you struggled to breathe through your nose, your senses were filled with his cologne spiked with the smell of gunpowder and wilderness.
He let out a disapproving huff as you reluctantly pull away from him for some air, but Sobiesław still looks ever the victorious soldier.
“You make me indulge too much, Serduszko,” he exhaled.
You pressed your cheek into the fabric of his jumper, breaking into a fond smile as you cuddle into him.
“You know, you’ve never told me what that meant.”
Sobiesław took a moment to pull his head back far enough to plant a kiss on your forehead.
“It means ‘sweetheart’,” he replied smugly.
You froze.
“You mean, you called me that on missions? When we were talking to our contractors? Our direct superiors?!”
“Uh… Good thing no one else speaks Polish here, yes?”
With a joyous laugh like his, you can’t bring yourself to be angry.
Call of Duty Masterlist
#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#gromsko x reader#gromsko x you#sobiesław kościuszko x reader#sobieslaw kosciuszko x reader#call of duty#gromsko#gromsko mw2#mw2 x reader#/*avery actually writes*/
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Shepard's so sexy and like powerful I think everyone's in love with her, I think I've said this before but it's still true, everyone on the Normandy (whichever model) literally wants to munch Shepard's box.
100% of everyone who has ever met Shepard wanted a piece of that pie, a bite of that cherry, a taste of that nectar.
Shepard is famous in-universe, there is an illegal VI coded to be your complete picture perfect copy, with stolen data replicating your own voice as well. They just tweaked it to be more..."friendly" more eager and pliant, to fulfil your fans' fantasy of meeting their hero! The powerful first human spectre Shepard praising them, treating them like an equal and being so responsive to their flirting.
Shepard probably ruined families and whole marriages without realising it. Gave too many people their gay awakening simply by wearing those tight suits and leather armour, by handling a rifle a little too intimately, by agreeing to an interview right after coming from a rough fight, blood splatters, halfway clad in their armour, the underarmour skin-tight suit ripped and exposing their tender flesh underneath.
Or the pictures that got leaked of a half-naked Shepard training in the gym. Muscles sculpted by the gods, a greek statue come to life, a lean yet athletic build, the most delicious thighs, god that round plump ass.
I'm just saying, a lot of the missions ingame would've been solved very quicky and peacefully if only had Shepard batted their eyelashes a bit, pouty lips and and sleepy eyes. A sultry voice as they offer a "reward" for the person if they cooperate, a private show in a secluded bedroom?
Who wouldn't immediately fold when offered the Commander Shepard on their lap, ready to please and tease them? People's brain would short-circut, blow a fuse if Shepard even winked their way.
I'm telling you, Joker was definitely selling "exclusive" pictures of Shepard behind your back to your own fanclub to get a little money on the side, buy better upgrades for the Normandy paid for by your very own tantalisingly clad form as you walk around the ship with nothing but an oversized T-shirt and boxers.
Because it's not normal for a whole crew to be this down to dating their commander, in three whole games no matter who, strangers or not, anyone in the crew came running if you called them into your private quarters. Shepard was the closest thing to a mythology hero, the Heracles of the decade. Immensely powerful, unbelievably gorgeous with a hot voice that could bring anyone to their knees.
Samara herself sends you as bait to go seduce her daughter in that one mission because "you're her type" BECAUSE YOU'RE EVERYONE'S TYPE. She knew no one could resist you, the fact you were the closest person to get a justicar almost break her code just to find out how your lips taste???
Everyone wanted you.
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Hello is this a pack of cigarettes on the desk at the back of Luis' lab?? I need to know so I can think about Leon picking it up and maybe there's like, three cigs left in there, and he keeps the pack with him like it's not weird, like he doesn't do it because he knows the thought of those cigarettes left behind in the lab probably drove Luis nuts.
"Got a smoke?"
I know that's meant to just be a code phrase or something Luis and Ada had, but Leon watched Luis play with his lighter, his fingers itching for it. So Leon keeps the cigarettes, tucks them away in some pocket of his body armour. Finds them again days later, back in his apartment. The pack is rumpled all to hell and he feels a pang of something that isn't quite guilt. Something that slides sharp and cold between his ribs.
The pack sits on his coffee table for a week before he fishes out a cigarette and smokes it. He's been drinking, so he's not responsible for the idea. He's not responsible for the lighter he bought on a whim a few days prior, either. There's no meaning in the way he flips it open, efficient and graceless, not the way Luis did it at all.
The sound of it makes him shiver. The quiet little click-fwoosh of the mechanism and the flame, muffled in the closed-in darkness of his living room. It had been so much louder, then. Seemed to echo off the rock all around them. The flame is dimmer now too, illuminating nothing but his own hand.
Leon takes a drag and it feels like drowning. He coughs, sputters, choking on the stale smoke smell of him. He can't do it. Takes another swig of his third beer of the night and just watches the cigarette glow red between his stiff fingers until it dies, the curl of the smoke drifting up and out of sight in the dark.
He smokes the second one when he's stone sober, just to prove to himself that he can, that it doesn't mean anything to put a dead man's cigarette between his lips and feel an ache as it gets shorter with every drag. He thinks about the cigarette slipping out of Luis' bloodied mouth. He thinks about the way his breath smelled like this smoke, and his jacket too. That same taste in his mouth when the cigarette's done. It doesn't mean anything. It's the same familiar sorrow he's been carrying with him for years, all the people he couldn't save.
But this one's different.
It's different because Luis lights the final cigarette in the pack and takes a drag so deep it makes him cough.
"Lungs still shit," he says, mock-apologetically.
"Getting a knife thrown in your back will do that," Leon grumbles, and makes to grab the cigarette out from between Luis' fingers. Not quick enough.
Luis raises his hand above his head, over the ratty arm of Leon's disgusting old couch, and smiles down at him all smug.
Leon huffs. Says, "Whatever. Aggravate your barely healed injuries all you want," and gives up his half hearted attempts at snatching the cigarette from Luis in favour of slumping back down against his chest.
"Oof," Luis protests at the weight of him. "You're one to talk, eh? Been aggravating my injuries all afternoon."
Leon closes his eyes, ear to Luis' chest, listening to the inhale of another drag, and underneath it the quiet thump thump thump of his heartbeat.
"Hm," Luis hums. "Don't get all morose on me now, Sancho. I didn't shake hands with the devil and come back from the dead just to suffer your pouting."
"Ada's not the devil," Leon insists, because he's grateful. Because she rang his doorbell and left a near-corpse of a man on his doorstep, and then fucked off again before he could even thank her.
"Mmm," is all Luis says to that, reaching instead for the crushed and battered pack of cigarettes on the coffee table but finding it empty. He sighs, asks, "Wouldn't happen to have another one of these, would you?"
Leon is sleepy. Leon feels good and peaceful and tired. He mutters, "Nah. Don't smoke."
"Then what are--" A pause. Luis turns the empty pack over in his hand, then says, "Ah, seems I've bedded a sentimental fool," with a smile so smarmy that Leon can hear it in his voice.
"Don't you ever shut up?"
"I can certainly be persuaded to," Luis says, his hand dropping back down from the arm of the couch to card through Leon's hair.
"Ugh," Leon groans, but without a shred of conviction.
Luis huffs a laugh and Leon can hear it rattle in his lungs, can smell the smoke on his breath, and that's apparently the secret combination that makes the cold sharp thing that's been lodged in his chest finally slide right out.
#haha oops it turned into a little fic?#would be real embarrassing for me if that's not even a pack of cigs on the desk...#it's fine#I'm so normal about them#and The Rituals#resident evil#resident evil 4 remake#re4 remake#luis serra#leon kennedy#serennedy#my thinky thoughts
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So... I was scrolling down on Instagram and I stumbled across a post about the "who did this to you?" trope. My mind went straight to wolfwren so I came up with this short fic. Below the cut.
"Who did this to you?" asked Shin as her thumb slid over an old wound in the middle of Sabine's back.
Sabine took a few seconds before answering, "I don't think I even remember," she replied, "it's been so long."
Shin's eyebrows furrowed as she inspected Sabine's back, the blue light of the moon casting through the blinds of her room's window. "You've got many wounds," she stated, "what's the point of having armour?"
"Its purpose is to prevent worse injuries than a superficial wound," Sabine retorted. "At least, my vital organs are mostly safe," she added, tapping on her chest where her chestplate should've been. She only was wearing a bra band and a loose pair of trousers which Shin had lent to her. She was sitting on the edge of Shin's bed while this one was kneeling on the mattress behind her. Her fingers had been tracing the curves of her back, making sure to remember which spots made the Mandalorian woman shiver.
"I don't like it," Shin finally said.
"What don't you like?" Sabine asked.
"That people have hurt you in the past."
Sabine couldn't help but chuckle, "so are we really gonna pretend as if my most serious wound wasn't of your doing?"
She turned her head around and met Shin's gaze. The humour drained off Sabine's features as Shin looked back at her seriously. Shin's blue eyes pierced right through her brown ones. Her intense gaze always managed to make her heart skip a bit before it began beating at a rapid pace; as if it was trying to overcompensate for the missed beat.
"What?" asked Sabine. No words were leaving Shin's mouth, her gaze remaining on her. "That's what happens when you don't wear armour," she reminded her. "Also, I was definitely out of practice."
Shin was still staring at her, wearing her nerves raw.
"Can you say something?!" she asked again.
Instead of answering, Shin swiftly locked her lips with hers, swallowing Sabine's surprised sound. Sabine barely had the time to register what was happening that Shin had already leaned away from her, leaving Sabine with the phantom feeling of the recent kiss on her lips.
Shin was avoiding her gaze now, focusing her attention back onto the purple-haired woman's back. Sabine turned her head back around, focusing her own attention on the wall facing her. Quietness settled once more between them.
A few minutes of silence passed by. The shadows on the walls moved slowly as the moon rose in the sky. Shin was sitting on the balls of her feet, engrossed in her task of inspecting Sabine's back. Her touch was featherlight, Sabine couldn't help but wonder if she was even touching her and was not just using the Force. She could feel her touch through the sore muscles of her back, easing the tension out and turning them into cotton.
It was a nice feeling. She could definitely get used to Shin's tenderness. Yet, she knew that once they were out of her room, the mask would come back on, spite coming back at full strength as if it had never left.
"You're…" began Sabine, breaking the silence, "it's difficult to understand you sometimes."
Sabine was left with no response again, she sighed. She chose to take it easy on herself and appreciate the moment for what it was: vulnerability. For the both of them. She was barely dressed with the woman who had tried to kill her and the said woman was showing… remorse?
"Is that what that was?" thought Sabine.
Sabine let out another sigh, wasn't she supposed to take it easy on herself?
She was getting sleepy, too. She nodded her head, shaking her thoughts away. Questions and difficult emotions could definitely be left unattended for a few more hours… She won't get the answers she so adamantly craved tonight. There was no point in ruminating over it. Shin was doing a great job at taking her mind away from things, too. So she just let her.
What harm could it cause?
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hello, can you do prompt 2 with marc spector please? thanks 🤍
Touch of Love (Marc Spector x reader)
Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be Tagged?
Prompt: Head or shoulder massages
A/N: Thanks for the ask, nonnie! Ew, I'm so soft for Marc it's bad. Liddle bit of hurt + comfort <3
Warnings: Marc is hurt :(
Word count: 968 words
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You were shaken awake as your boyfriend slowly pulled your arms off from around his body. The bed dipped as he sat up and let out a loud sigh, followed by a sniff.
“Marc? What’s the problem?” you slowly drag as you pull yourself out of your sleepy state to feel for his hand that was planted on the bed.
“It’s nothing, angel, go back to sleep.” Marc’s voice seemed heavier than usual, almost thick with tears and that made you shoot up with panic, your hand scrambling to find the switch to the bedside lamp.
You flung yourself out of bed and walked around it, kneeling in front of Marc. It was then when you noticed that one of his hands was tightly clutching at his shoulder and his face was stained with tears. The crease between his eyebrows seemed deeper than usual, with the way his eyebrows were knitted together and his eyes screwed shut.
“Oh baby, what’s the matter?” you say, gently rubbing at his thigh.
“It hurts.” Marc whispered as tears escaped his tightly shut eyes.
Your hands quickly come up to his face to wipe away his tears as your heart broke for him. Marc never usually expresses his pain to anyone and you were pretty sure it was absolutely excruciating if he admitted it to you so quickly. His body was shaking slightly and his hand kept trying to knead a spot on his shoulder.
“Okay, sweetheart, I’m going to help you alright?” you rub his arm as your other hand comes down to the edge of his sweater.
He raised his arms up as you pulled and you noticed that his left arm was raised significantly less than his right one, so your hand shot out to hold his left wrist as you navigated the sweater slowly off his frame. Marc whimpered slightly as you slowly yanked the sweater off him and you soothed him with your words of encouragement and a few kisses to his forehead.
You hurried to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a few extra strength painkillers along with some pain ointment. You stopped at the window to glare at the moon that graced the sky, blaming it for your lovely boyfriend’s ailment. Khonshu’s ceremonial armour healed Marc from flesh wounds and cuts, but it left a dull ache that manifested to muscle pain that Marc could not help but live with. It took a toll on his body and left him feeling fatigued. You rushed to Marc’s side again and handed him the tablets, helping him drink them down with a little bit of water.
“That's it, that's good. Alright, tell me where it hurts.” you say softly, crawling onto the bed and taking a seat behind him.
“Left shoulder,” he mumbled.
“And?” Sometimes you realised that Marc needed a little bit of a push and you were there to give him your all.
“I think a muscle in my neck pulled. My head is pounding too.” he whispered and you placed a soft kiss on his neck, causing him to shiver slightly.
You squeezed a little bit of the ointment onto the space between Marc’s shoulder and neck, slowly rubbing it down with your finger tips, not applying much pressure.
“Marc, this is going to hurt a little, just bear with me, it’ll get better, I promise.” Marc nodded at your soft words and you sat up slightly and got to work.
You bared down your weight on your palm as you pressed into Marc’s shoulder, making him groan loudly and claw at your fingers. You persisted, ignoring Marc’s pleas to stop as you kneaded the knotted muscle, testing its tension under your fingers. You continued to press as hard as your grip strength could go until Marc groans dissipated into soft sighs. You handled his neck a little more gently, careful not to press too hard at his spine, using two knuckles to slowly ease the pain away.
“Mmm, thank you baby, you’re too good to me.” Marc mumbled and you shushed him with another kiss to his skin.
Marc was slowly turning into putty as his state of pain altered into something more relaxing. Your touch was like morphine and he was pretty sure that you had magic fingers that knew every nook and cranny that was damaged in his body. You were now pressing spots that he was too shy to admit was hurting and he sighed in relief as you smiled knowingly.
You had pulled him into a different position and he was now lying on his front with his head buried in the pillows as you worked your way up and down the broad plain of his back. You could visibly see him relax into your soft rhythm and could tell that the pain medications were doing their jobs.
When you were done, you sat beside him and turned him over so that his head was on your lap. Marc’s eyes were hazily staring up at you and you bent down to kiss his nose, causing them to flutter close as you giggled delightfully. You started to draw pressured circles on the side of his temple and a loud exhale escaped Marc and you knew you hit the right spot. You alternated softly pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging his temples for a bit before burying your hands in his curls and pressing at his scalp.
You were so focused that you only snapped out of it when you heard a soft snore emitting from Marc. You smiled happily at how peaceful his face looked and bathed in the fact that you managed to get him to fall asleep comfortably. You placed a soft kiss onto his lips and played with his hair until you yourself lost consciousness.
Reblogs are appreciated~~~~~
#moon knight#marc spector#marc spector fluff#marc spector x reader#jakeglockley asks#marc spector x gn!reader#marc spector x gender neutral reader#marc spector x y/n#marc spector x you#marc spector angst#marc spector imagine#marc spector imagines#marc spector moon knight#moon knight marc#marc moon knight#moon knight imagine#moon knight x y/n#moon knight x you#moon knight x reader#moon knight series#marvel moon knight#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters#oisaac#oisaacedit#marc spector smut#moon knight fluff#moon knight smut#moon knight mcu#mcu moon knight
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Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Reader
Warnings: None!
Content: Fluff, Touch-Starved Din Djarin
I know this is really sloppy but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Thank you for the request!! (I will never deny a Din Djarin request 😤💙)
Your Touch
When Din looked over at you, he saw the starstruck look you had in your eyes every time you looked out of the cockpit window. You had Grogu on your lap. He was giggling and messing with the buckles of your armour. You tore your gaze away from the window to look down at the child then back up to Din. He quickly averts his eyes, feeling a heat crawl up his neck and settle on his cheeks.
He senses that you were still looking at him but doesn't dare to turn back to check. The comfortable silence continues, only being broken by Grogu babbling to you and you pretending to know what he’s talking about. He spotted the planet he was looking for and gently landed the crest in a clear but secluded area. He got up from his pilot seat to see you nodding your head along with Grogu’s ranting.
He smiled under his helmet and accidentally brushed your shoulder while walking past, causing him to tense a bit. He sat himself down on the floor in the back. He wanted to be alone for a while but having two other people on the small ship made that sort of improbable. But he relished the silence anyway.
You shuffled in with a sleepy Grogu. You gave him a lazy smile and put the kid down to sleep. You sat yourself in front of him and stretched your arms above your head. Din heard the crack of your back through his helmet. You groaned and brought your hands back down. He watched the way your fingers picked at your trousers, brushing off the lint that stuck there.
He wondered what your hands would feel like. Probably warm and strong. He wondered what it would feel like if you brushed them through his hair or simply rested a hand on his knee. He knew you honoured his creed as much as he did, never asking him to take off his helmet or armour. You respected his boundaries and he appreciated it. He just sometimes wished that you would be able to truly see him.
“Alright Din?”
He looked up at you.
“Sorry?”
You shifted forward.
“I asked if you were alright.”
“Oh, yeah I’m alright. Just thinking.”
“About?”
He said quieted. He reached up and grabbed a piece of cloth from the counter he was sat in front of. He wanted you to try something that he had been thinking of for a while. He held the fabric up to you, not wanting to explain and hoping that you would just get what he was implying. You looked confused but allowed him to continue anyway. You seemed to understand what he was doing once he motioned for you to lean closer. He gently tied the cloth around the back of your head. He made sure it was snug before allowing you to adjust it the way you needed it to.
“Din, what are-”
You were silenced by the sound of his helmet clanking against the ground. You listened to the sound of his breaths, unfiltered by the modulator in his armour. You heard him take off his gloves and set them down. He took one of your hands that you had laying in your lap and clasped them in his. He was right. Your hands were just as warm as he’d thought they’d be. They were marked with evidence of hard labour. He studied them, every scar and mark was filed into his memory.
You took your other hand and slid it slowly up his arm. Moving up his shoulder, you stopped when you got to his neck. He released his grasp on you and moved an arm up to yours. He took your hand and placed it on his cheek. You rubbed your thumb against his cheek and he closed his eyes. You brought your other hand up to the other side of his face. You felt the scratch of his stubble against your fingers. He gripped your wrists and pulled you closer.
He pressed a wary kiss to the corner of your mouth, testing, making sure he wasn’t pushing boundaries or taking things too far. He saw you smile so he moved in once again. This time, he kissed you properly. It was a bit clumsy due to one of you lacking sight, but it was the closest Din had been to a person in his life.
Once he pulled back, he moved his hands up to your face. He ran his hands along your arms and down your chest. He allowed himself to see you with no barriers. He still hated the fact that you couldn’t see him, but he was content that you could feel him. He yearned for your touch for so long and it almost broke him to finally get it.
#the mandolarian#the mandolorian x reader#din djarin#din djarin x male reader#din dijarin x reader#male reader#x male reader#x reader#reader insert#male reader insert
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Who-lahan's your favorite Dulahan?
Short answer, very few aside from my own. Long answer, I'm not a terribly big fan of the Headless Horseman from Sleepy Hollow over shadowing all Dullahans in a pop-cultural sense. I feel like The HH under utilizes the Dullahans more interesting quirks. (no spine whips, no blood throwing, no fear of gold, no name calling, etc) He's fine. Bunch of examples under cut.
First off the classic 1949 Disney Sleepy Hollow
He's a lot of fun but just too simple. No substance other than to be something fast and scary to terrorize Ichabod Crane.
Fun to watch but WHATEVER. 1999 Timmy Burty Sleepy Hollow HH is pretty cool.
like this is fantastic atmosphere, until he finds his head.
Oh cool, a skull.
oh god put it back. This is hideous.
The HH from Fox's Sleepy Hollow is actually pretty excellent.
Making him generally faceless is an improvement.
The shotgun bandolier adds A LOT. I think this is a great Dullahan but it's really hard to find good photos of him online that aren't super underexposed or horribly compressed. I'm also not a terribly big fan of how Dullahans are used in anime, the vibe they give off in anime feels nasty. Celty from Durarara I don't actually mind that much. I think a motorcycle in place of a horse is a good way to adapt the Dullahan to more contemporary settings. But she's like the only GOOD example.
This however is just disappointing.
If I recall correctly this one was used to write a lot of "head gags" around including but not limited to "repeatedly being groped by one of her friends while her head is far away from her body and unable to maintain agency over it"
And I just fucking hate looking at this THING.
Also what's with all the scythes? Dullahans don't fuckin' use those, get that shit outta here. There are more examples but I don't care enough for them to post any more. They're all pretty bad, and they are all harem filler. GROSS. I also wish the Dullahan was used more in games, their depictions are usually pretty cool but it's almost exclusive to Japanese developers. Western game devs are sleeping on the Dullahan and I want to rectify that.
Golden Sun Dullahan is cool but I don't typically think of them as "super tanky armoured dudes", too bulky imo.
Castlevania Curse of Darkness Dullahan has a great outfit, but that sword and shield combo looks worse that the Final Fantasy 14 grapes, awful weapon design. Speaking of FF14
Cool design, but same issue. Far too bulky for my tastes. Dullahan also makes an appearance in SMT
This just kinda sucks. More recently we got one in Dragons Dogma 2
He's alright. And then there's the beloved Horseless Headless Horsemann from TF2.
He's just too goofy, I don't like him. There are also dozens of Headless horsemen in card games, but they all feel like they are just there to pad out the monster menagerie. My biggest issue with Dullahans in games is that they are almost exclusively a throw away boss/miniboss and never get to be a real primary focus of their respective games, despite how cool they are. For these reasons there hasn't ever been a Dullahan in popular culture I've REALLY latched on to. Out of all of these I only really like 1999 Sleepy Hollow HH and Fox's Sleepy Hollow HH, because they are the primary focus of their respective stories but this all keeps coming back to Washington Irving's "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" as it's the only REAL substantive piece of fiction that uses the Dullahan in a strong manner, and even then he only shows up for the finale. A lot of this is pretty surface level, I'm sure there are far better depictions of Dullahans out there but none of them have made it back to me.
#long post#dullahan#dullahans#irish mythology#I aim to bring the dullahan back to the forefront of western popular culture#one way or another
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A Swallow's Symphony In Spring (12/19)
Chapter 12 - While the Swallows Roam Alone
<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->
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Warnings: some non-graphic violence, more violence heavily implied, panic attack.
Word Count: 2124
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“Roman - Roman wake up,” said a hissing voice as his shoulder was shaken. Roman groaned softly and snuggled into what he thought was his lovely new boyfriend… he was still reeling from that a little bit.
“Roman! Come on Ro you have to get up," said the voice again. The panic in the voice made Roman finally blink open his eyes, only to realise that what he was holding was not, in fact, his boyfriend, but a pillow. That explained how cold it was.
“Virgil…?” Roman asked, voice a little croaky, rubbing his eyes and glancing around to find him.”’s dark…”
“I know, and I’m sorry for waking you but you really, really have to get up.” Virgil said. Once Roman’s eyes adjusted to the light in the room - coming from a single candle on his bedside - he saw that Virgil was fully dressed, and not in his guard uniform.
He wore a dark cloak, fastened at the front with a glistening silver bird, shaped pin, underneath he wore what looked like sleek leather armour, a belt with pouches and weapons hooked up - he looked sort of like an assassin, which already put Roman on edge. Not because of Virgil, of course, Roman trusted Virgil but… he wondered what could have made his guard dress like that. The last time he had done so was when he went to rescue Roman’s cat.
“What’s going on?” He asked, suddenly feeling a lot more awake.
“I- the- the palace is being attacked,” Virgil said, speaking quickly and stumbling over his words. “There’s - people, people at the gates, gotta get you out before they get in. Get dressed, quickly, it’s cold out.”
Any sleepiness still in Roman’s system was quickly flushed out by the adrenaline that rushed through him at those words. He didn’t even stop to think about how Virgil seemed to know about the attack before it had happened, how he had left time for Roman to get dressed. He was too busy thinking about how his life was in danger, if they were found - if people were trying to attack the castle then surely they were after him and his parents.
He did as Virgil said, dressing simply and warmly, pulling on the red cloak Virgil offered him and grabbing a few of the things he had gotten from the festival they had gone to the night before. All of the riches in the world didn’t matter to him, but if they got out of the palace alive all Roman would want are these little things, these things that meant so much more to him than anything his parents had given him ever had.
“Quickly,” Virgil said as Roman shoved something into his pocket. “Come on-”
There was a loud crash, distant to them far up in Roman’s tower, but heard nonetheless. Roman jumped and nodded, grabbing Virgil’s outstretched hand and allowing himself to be led hurriedly from his room. He cast one final glance back, knowing he would likely never see it again, whether they got out or not. There were no guards around - Roman could only assume that if there was really an attack on the castle they had gone to deal with it, with Virgil to defend him they could go.
“Where - where are we-” Roman said, already a little out of breath as they ran through the halls.
“Catacombs,” Virgil replied. “We can - we can get out that way, right?”
“Mhm - okay- good-” Roman said, nodding quickly as they ran. Suddenly Virgil stopped.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispered. Roman’s eyes widened and then darted around.
“This way,” he said, squeezing Virgil’s hand before pulling him back the way they came, lifting up a tapestry in the next hall to reveal a servant's passage, quickly ushering Virgil into it.
“I know how to get down there through these passages,” Roman whispered as they heard a small group run past. Virgil nodded quickly, gesturing for him to lead the way.
Together the pair ran through the walls until they were in the palace basement. There was no-one in the kitchen and Roman was glad for it as they ran through to the back wine cellar. Virgil pushed the barrel off of the trapdoor and pulled it open, quickly ushering Roman down the ladder, holding his hand as he climbed down and following once he had reached the bottom, pulling the trap door shut behind them just in case. Once they both stood on the solid, stone ground next to the canal, they breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“Okay - come on,” Virgil said, taking Roman’s hand again, they shared a small smile, “We should get going, can’t waste time.”
“Right,” Roman nodded, he wished he could have a hug right now. He knew they had to get out, it was important that they did, they could hug all they wanted afterwards once they were alive and free. Right now they couldn’t stop until they were out.
—-
As silently as they could, the pair hurried along the path past the canal towards the entrance they had used to sneak out to the festival, the exit that meant that they’d get out free. They had been walking for five minutes before they heard quiet voices. Virgil froze, and with the way he was holding Roman’s hand, he was stopped too.
“Vir-” Roman started, before a hand was slapped over his mouth. Virgil’s eyes were wide and panicked.
“Someone’s here,” Virgil whispered in his ear. “Quick - back this-”
“Oh!”
Roman whipped around, just as a small group of rebels came around the corner. Virgil froze, staring, and Roman did too. Just as quickly as he had frozen, though, Virgil darted to shield him. Roman tried to take a deep breath, Virgil was here to protect him, he didn’t have to panic.
The leader of the group’s eyes widened too. Even in the dim light Roman could see that his tied back long hair was blonde, there was dark scarring all up one side of his face and he wore a pin exactly like Virgil’s swallow pin on the lapel of his cloak. He carried a cane too - Roman wondered if he’d come this way to avoid most of the fighting if he was disabled. But then that begged the question - how had they known about this place? No-one knew about this place besides him, Virgil and his brother, Virgil wouldn’t have told them, and his brother was dead.
The group in front of them was small, there were five people there who were obviously muscle, the leader of course and one more guy in the back wearing a cloak that obscured their face. No-one moved for a moment, before the leader spoke and Roman’s heart dropped.
“Virgil?” He said, Roman immediately looked to his guard, who was wearing a twisting expression, full of guilt. What was happening? “Well, this actually makes things much easier. I didn't even think to have you bring him down here for us and meet us halfway. Everything should go much smoother now, the prince is in our hands and everything above us is going accordingly."
“What,” Roman whispered, voice small as Virgil looked back at him, “Virgil-”
“I know I can always count on you, darling,” he says, sounding genuine. He takes a step forward and makes a motion with his fingers.
“Virgil - what-” Roman said, backing up a little - was this a trap? A set up? He didn’t understand what was happening, why did these people know Virgil? “What’s going on-”
“Roman I-” Virgil said, glancing back at the others, he looked torn, Roman felt like there was an iron hand squeezing his heart. He couldn’t cry, not right now, not here, this couldn’t be happening, it had to be a nightmare.
“Virgil,” Said the leader again. “You can drop the act now, honey, we’ve got him.”
“But it’s-” Virgil said, eyes darting back and forth. Act? What act?
“Just go,” Roman said through his teeth, clenching his fists in an effort not to let himself cry as he put the pieces together. Virgil was dressed like them, he knew them, had he just been using Roman this whole time? Was any of it real? Anything at all. Roman turned his face away as Virgil looked at him - Roman didn’t want to see his guard (if he should even call him that) cry right now.
The air was tense as Virgil hesitated, reaching as if to touch Roman’s arm or something, before sighing softly and taking a step away from him. The group’s leader nodded, waving him over whilst the others came up to crowd Roman. He gave Virgil one last pleading look, he knew it was useless - after everything they had been through, Virgil wasn’t on his side. He was handing him over willingly, he didn’t even try to defend him. The leader patted Virgil’s shoulder, and the cloaked figure nodded. Their face catching the torchlight for just a second as they did.
For a moment, Roman thought he saw amber eyes, red hair just like his own, a face older than he remembered but still just as familiar. For a moment, he tried to fight, to pull away from the person whose hand was on his shoulder, holding him in place, to reach for the cloaked figure who wore his brother’s face. He barely made it a step, though, before something struck the back of his head, his vision spotted and spun for a moment, before going black as he crumpled to the ground. He thought he heard a shout as he fell.
—-
“Don’t hurt him!” Virgil shrieked as the guy holding the Prince struck him in the back of the head. Dread pooled in Virgil’s stomach more like a flood as his hand came up to cover his mouth. Two of Janus’ guards lifted Roman’s limp form. The cloaked figure put a hand on his shoulder in some semblance of comfort, maybe it was to stop him from running to Roman, he couldn’t be sure.
“Where d’we take him, boss?” One of them said, ignoring him - Virgil didn’t recognise the guy and he didn’t exactly care. He wasn’t really listening as Janus explained where they were going to keep him either, he could hardly hear him over the panic roaring in his ears, the hand he had clamped over his mouth was making it hard to breath. Especially with the short, sharp breaths he was already taking. He watched the men take Roman away like it was distant, foggy through the tears in his eyes. What had he done?
“Hey, hey Vee,” said a familiar voice, and he blinked to see Star in front of him, patting his cheek. “Deep breaths, you’re okay, ‘kay? Janny’s gonna sort all this out, your Prince ain’t gonna be damaged too much, they promised.”
Virgil tried, he really did, to take deep breaths as his hand was pulled away from his mouth and Janus came to his side too.
“He’s- oh god he’s gonna hate me-” Virgil forced out through short breaths. “I - I’m such an awful person- I-”
“Virgil, darling,” Janus said, rubbing his shoulder. “No, look at me… I’m sorry darling, I didn’t realise… okay, it’s going to be difficult, but if he likes you as you said in your letter then you’ll be able to fix this, I know you, Virgil, and you’re very strong, you’ll get through this.”
“‘Sides, Roman’s basically incapable of hating anyone, he’s not gonna hate you - he’s just… probably gonna be upset,” Star shrugged. Virgil frowned.
“I just - I just stood by and let him get captured by rebels.” Virgil said. “When - when in his mind I’m the only person who’s ever really protected him - I- I wouldn’t blame him if- if he wanted me dead, Star.”
Despite his face being obscured in shadow, Virgil could almost feel the eye roll. “You really think Roman is gonna want you dead? Really? Roman, who you described in your sappy ass letters as one of the kindest souls you’ve ever met?”
“I- I guess…” Virgil said softly. “Did -” he took a deep breath. “Did the revolution work?”
“Well,” Janus said, squeezing his shoulder before letting go. “I suppose we should go find out, hm? And then you can go see your Prince.���
—
The Queen and the King were to be dead. The castle had never been more alive, with people of the revolution using it as a new base, treating the wounded, inviting in the sick and starving. Virgil thought Roman might have liked to see it, maybe he would be happy with the change. But for now, Virgil simply sat in a chair in the palace dungeons, waiting for his Prince to wake.
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#sanders sides#sanders sides fanfiction#tss fanfic#prinxiety#virgil sanders#roman sanders#ts virgil#ts roman#rowan writes
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Beacon Hills was a sleepy Californian town where nothing ever happened, complete opposite to Gotham - and that's why Jason chose it for his new place of residence. Talia didn't get it.
"You have spent a year with the All Caste, trained with swords and mysterious arts that are forgotten everywhere else on Earth..."
He refrained from reminding that he was kicked out by the cult she put him in when she just restored his higher brain function. For reasons such as prophecies foretelling the doom of said cult.
"And I can give you resources, contacts, everything you need to get revenge..."
He put his hand up.
"I don't want revenge, I never did. I wanted justice, and I see that it's a futile pursuit. Now, all I want - I want just some peace and quiet."
"So just like that, you changed your mind." She looked at him not quite with judgment or dissatisfaction - more like she really didn't get that he wanted to stop.
He shrugged, warming his hands on the coffee cup.
"Look, All Caste? You know what sort of place it is. You were taught by Ducra. You had Trials of your own. You saw it, didn't you? Every variation of you, in 52 Universes. Was either of them happy?"
"I'm not in the League for happiness," she said, almost scandalized.
"Well, why are you in the League at all? I was pondering that, all the year I was in All Acres, a doorway from any point in my life. I could go right through and warn myself, I could go kill Joker before Joker even existed. And it never helped. Gotham's cursed. Batman is its white knight in shiny armour. I'm just..."
He shrugged.
"Poor boy," Talia sighed, cupping his face.
"Don't. I don't need your sympathy," he put his hands over hers, but didn't remove them from where she was touching his skin. "I could use your company, though. I'm serious - why are you even doing all this? Just... Go with me. Take him, and let's settle down where nobody knows us, nobody will..."
Talia froze, then took her cup in both hands.
"I will not ask how do you know about him, even as your father does not. How fast, do you think, it will take Ra's to find us? With our edges dulled, our blades rusty, how fast will he end our lives - and take him?"
Jason shook his head.
"If you want me to believe Damian is the reason you're still in the League..."
Talia put the cup down with a clunk.
"Don't. Ever. Say his name. Even if you think we're alone, if you think nobody is listening in. I will not risk him."
"You already are. You do. He is at risk, and will be until one of two things happen - and maybe even then..."
"I'm aware," Talia said dryly, standing up. "This conversation is over. Do with your life whatever you will. You will find me if you change your mind."
"You too," he said, but the room was empty already. "Jeez."
In one of these 52 Universes, they got together. Jason didn't cultivate with mystical immortals in that universe. He had taken something like a gap year, traveling, mostly Europe, and learning from the specialists League of Assassins sometimes employed. Killed most of them - for good reasons. Reasons he supplied anonymously to Interpol and Checkmate, in this universe.
Because in that world, no matter how many people Jason saved by killing "animals", "monsters", he left behind a piece of himself. At least, with the Soul Swords, he knew what was fueling them, what he was spending.
The story of him and Talia wasn't a happy one. Or even particularly romantic. Both of them were hurting, Bruce-shaped wound in their hearts, but also what was done upon them, what they were made to do, what they thought they should do. Their hearts were more sieves than anything else. One night, they had to each other, and then they never talked face to face ever again.
He didn't want that. He very much hoped, knowing it was futile, that Talia just - went with him, to a sleepy Californian town where nothing ever happened. They would raise her kid - maybe he could be her partner, maybe her son's brother, he would take it any way she could give.
But he couldn't stay for her, and she wouldn't leave for him.
So, he went alone.
***
He had fake documents, keeping the first name and changing the last, using the same day and month of birth and making himself a year younger. Only fair, seeing how he was dead for six months, and catatonic for another six. He put down a local attorney's phone number for his contact information on the school application. That same attorney, Whittermore, had helped him with emancipation, seeing how he was only 17, still, and would need to find someone to pretend to be his parents, or go into foster care, otherwise.
Enrollment in the school was easy. Finding a place to live as well - there was a lot of property built during a dot com bubble era that still was sitting empty. Rent was cheap, compared to Gotham. But without League's backing, he needed income. So he started to check jobs.
There was not a lot vacancies that could be filled with a teenager who was still in school. Waiting tables, washing dishes, making coffee, retail - that was about it. Gabby, his friend from another life - life before Bruce, even - was a waitress. So that's what he applied to. There was no real training, but he had the skills he needed already. Good memory, from the time he used to devour dossiers on criminal individuals and organizations. Coordination, from his movement training. Cheerful smile and small talk, from all the times, infrequent as they were, that he had to follow Bruce to some event or another. He didn't like them then - now, he was just grateful for experience, because life in Himalayas didn't nurture his social skills, to say the least. And good thing Bruce never allowed his picture to be taken, unlike how it was with Dick. At the time Jason was self-conscious, thought Bruce might have been - finding him lacking in some way. Not fit for the public to see, regardless of the new suits he ordered from his tailors for him, or haircuts Alfred gave him. Who knew, maybe Bruce indeed didn't want him to be recognized by anyone from Jason's past who would come knocking. Still, it let Jason feel free in his new life. Nobody will see his tag and his face and put it all together as American most eligible millionaire's dead son.
Beacon Hills was so small a town, Jason had learned the names and occupations of the regulars in his first week on the job. One of them, the local Sheriff, asked a few questions about where he moved from and how old he was. After finding out that in a few weeks he was starting as sophomore at high school ("I was held back a year, sir, after a car accident"), Sheriff asked him not to tell to his son, Stiles, that he's eating his lunches here.
"He's making me those low salt, low cholesterol lunches," the Sheriff chuckled. "His heart is in the right place, I can't bring myself to tell him that it all tastes like a wet cardboard."
"I can tactfully suggest a few recipes to him," Jason offered. "There are nutritious and healthy options that are quite tasty. There's so much you can do with chickpeas."
"What, and leave Robby without steady income? I couldn't do that, not until he sees his daughter through college. Who taught you to cook, by the way?"
"My grandfather."
It took a lot of Jason to keep the smile on his face. But it might have been a wrong choice.
"Well, pass along my greetings. There's not a lot of teenagers nowadays who have the skill."
"He... I'm alone now, after the accident." Jason didn't like to lie about anyone dying, it seemed like he was cursing them in this way, so he picked his words carefully.
"I'm so sorry, there's a foot in my mouth, I swear it's a family trait," Sheriff rummaged in his pocket, and then thrusted a card to him. "Here. If you need anything, you can reach me on a cell, it's written on the back."
Jason briefly considered - he had some cards with his personal number on it on him. Always ready to offer assistance to the needy? Or... Noah Stilinsky seemed like a good guy, and Jason, pocketing his card, hoped as hell that he was.
Because there's another kind of explanation why nothing big came up when he researched Beacon Hills. All sorts of things can be covered up and never see the light of the day when it's the police doing the covering.
He will call, he decided, as soon as he can find a suitable reason. He needed to know if the Sheriff and this town was what they seemed.
***
Before the school started, though, Jason couldn't find the time. He was a freshman when he died, and he had no access to schooling after his resurrection. Even with all the knowledge learned under the tutelage of a former Batgirl, there was a lot of ground to cover, to catch up with the rest of the class. It wasn't his first rodeo, and arguably it was way easier now than when he also had Robin training. But he had a job, now, working as long the hours as the diner's owner would allow him before the school started. Besides that, he took up running in the Preserve, as much to familiarize himself with his new habitat as to stay in shape. It also replaced the meditations, in part - he cut them down from the recommend by Ducra two hours per day, to half an hour, before going to sleep.
He met some people in that way, too. His new classmates, actually: Jackson Whittermore, son of Mr. Whittermore whose services he employed - finding that out, Jackson toned down his smirk and offered a handshake. He was running with his friend, Danny Mahealani. Both of them were on the school's lacrosse team, and invited him to the tryouts that would happen before the Spring.
"Maybe," Jason said. "I don't know much about lacrosse, though. And never played any team sport at all."
"Really? Not even football?" Danny gave him a once-over. "Seems like a waste."
"Believe it or not, I was a tiny, skinny kid up until recently." Jason shrugged.
Jackson asked him about his regimen. Jason couldn't explain that it was a magical fountain of youth and cure-all that fixed his stunted by malnutrition and smoking growth. He wasn't even sure that was it. Maybe years with Bruce, and then the time spent in cultivation, changed his body as well as his mind and spirit. He didn't need to eat that much now, although he didn't progress to inedia. So he bullshitted, recalling the diet Bruce was on.
It actually inspired him to start a side hustle. Food blog for teenagers who wanted to bulk up. He always loved writing, and he had some expertise on the topic, although he ended up posting more about training and exercises, than food. Every recipe required pictures, so he had to make everything from scratch, and sometimes redo the whole thing because his cell phone photos were simply shit, videos (face always out of the frame) not much better.
He looked up Donna's work, one of those times. But in the end, Jackson introduced him to Matt Dalaher, whose hobby was photography. Matt's advice and explanations were shit, and he was all too glad to tall about girls, topic Jason could offer nothing on.
"Come on, there's don't kiss and tell, and there's me starting to suspect where's nothing for you to say," Matt joked one time.
"That's exactly it," Jason smiled back, not even particularly trying to hide the edge anymore. "I'm saving myself for the marriage."
"What does Whittermore see in you? This, and the cooking shit..."
"I have amazing thighs, I was told," Jason spread them to empathize the point. "One of my best features."
"Oh, so it's like that, huh? He's trying to set you up with Danny? Damn, he did the same thing with me, he gotta give it a rest."
Jason wasn't aware Danny played for the home team, and wasn't particularly trilled to find out like it was a butt of the joke. He still smirked.
"Do I have a chance, you think?"
Matt sputtered, apparently not expecting him to, Jason didn't even know, freak out because of the gay cooties. That was the last time they really spoke. It was fine, though - Matt's speciality was more portraits than still life, anyway.
***
Before the school started, Jason was invited to a party at Jackson's girlfriend house. He had work that day, but his shift ended at seven, so he could, in theory, make it.
"Come on, man, the whole school will be there," Jackson said, running along him. Danny was a few feet ahead of them.
"I don't know anyone from school, except you and Danny," Jason pointed out.
"And Matt," Danny called over his shoulder.
"Matt isn't worth knowing!" he called back.
Danny laughed. Jason smiled to himself. He liked that sound.
He didn't know whether he liked boys, to be honest - he didn't even know if he liked anyone. Things with Talia were circumstantial - and not even in this universe. Before his death, he certainly flirted with girls - older, cooler, the ones he would have no chance in hell with, like Babs, like Koriand'r (and oh, here's another trait they shared: Dick's ex/girlfriends). But the only time he approached dating was with Rena. And they went out only twice: when she thought he could score her some drugs, and when he ditched her for Bruce. For a case, he meant - but essentially, for Bruce.
It was all kinds of fucked up, Jason was starting to realize, how Bruce was all over his life. His father, his boss, his teacher, the only friend he managed to keep - up until he wasn't anything, anymore. It left Jason unmoored, swayable to the winds. They blew, and here he was in Northern Africa, on the quest to find a woman who didn't want to be found. Here he was, letting her know a secret that cost him his life, when he didn't even manage to save hers.
He wanted someone, anyone, in his life. It made him blind to the red flags. He might be better off without feeling this way ever again - but with his new life finding its rhythm, he started feeling those pangs of loneliness again. Thinking of people he left behind. Meditation became more difficult again.
He needed to prevent that, he realized. He couldn't just will and discipline himself not to need people. So the only way was to... Find new ones.
It wouldn't be the same, of course. Nothing like life or dead situations forging a bond between two persons. But it would, should be enough.
"You know what?" He said, looking briefly at Jackson and then back at Danny's back. "I'm game. I will be there."
And then he sped up, to run along with Danny.
***
The party itself was everything that the early 2000s romcoms warned him about. If you were Jason, first time in this sort of environment, sober (he didn't know how he will react to alcohol, and wasn't about to experiment in this sort of environment), knowing no one - he didn't manage to find neither Danny nor Jackson yet - it was awkward and boring.
He knew how to talk to people if you wanted them to open up to you, but it was when he had a mask on his face. He tried very hard that his new life didn't become a new sort of costume, so he didn't want to construct a persona around his future classmates.
He found a relatively quiet corner where only two people were sitting, and sat down with his half full beer cup (poor rhododendron, but he wasn't drinking this shit for real, and an empty cup would attract a refill, and full - askance glances to why wasn't he drinking). He nodded and smiled at them. They stopped talking, although the one with darker, longer hair smiled back and nodded.
"Hey, I don't know you," the other guy said.
He had a shaved head and a graphic T-shirt, like the one Eddie wore. Eddie, flashed in Jason's mind - last time they were in touch, he lived in California, too, although way closer to Hollywood. But getting in touch with anyone from his old life was dangerous, so he didn't. Now, he kinda felt a short pang of regret.
Jason shook his head to ward away this dangerous feeling.
"Yeah, I don't know you either. But then again, I don't know anyone here, except Jackson and Danny. I'm Jason."
He offered a handshake to both of them. The dark-haired one responded first, albeit slightly awkward in the movement.
"Scott," he said.
"Nice to meet you," Jason nodded.
"Uh, you too?"
Shit, don't people say that anymore?
"I'm Stiles," the shaved-headed one said, shaking his hand, with the emphasis on "shake". "Though I don't know how nice it is to meet you if you're friends with Jackson Whittermore."
"Stiles," Jason remembered. "I heard about you."
"Definitely not nice, then."
And yet, he was still shaking Jason's hand.
"Don't worry, it was only complimentary. Well, almost."
His cooking was shitty, Jason recalled. Everytime the Sheriff took his lunch at the diner, Jason made a point to ask what his son prepared for him that day. Even texted his blog's URL to the Sheriff, so he could pass it along. Some of Stiles' attempts at his recipes were a success, it seemed, because as the Summer progressed to the end, Sheriff patronized the diner less and less.
Stiles scrunched his face.
"No way in hell would Jackson say anything positive about me."
"He isn't my sole source of information," Jason smirked.
Stiles looked at him for a second or two, and then snapped his fingers.
"Jason! From the Robby's!" He elbowed his friend in the side. "The dude who runs that fitness blog? We're, uh, we started some protocols you describe, to enhance our physic and all."
"Yeah, but I'm afraid it's not gonna help us, come Spring," Scott smiled sheepishly. "I really can't do some of it without wanting to cough up my lungs afterwards."
"That's, uh, that's not supposed to happen," Jason said carefully.
"It's fine," Scott said. "I have asthma, I'm used to it."
"Even more, then. I was basically describing some of what I was doing, when I had started to," train as a vigilante, to kick ass and take names. "Bulk up. But I had no underlying conditions except I was somewhat... Thinner than other kids my age. Look, it's important to talk to your doctor, but if there's, you know, issues with that - you should always start small. Steady wins the race, yeah?"
Jason shared some tips, and then the topic switched to lacrosse - Jason still had only the vaguest idea of what this sport entailed, or how expensive it was. That topic - the money - wasn't the one he wanted to broach with Jackson or Danny. They were under impression he has it - from him being able to afford Whittermore's law firm fees - and worked at the diner basically for shit and giggles, because he was sad son of the bitch who knew almost no one in town. He didn't dissuade them, not because he thought they're gonna be assholes about it, but... He didn't want to chance it either. He knew how some things about you that were quirky if you had the money, like reading newspapers during breaks between classes - they added to the character. Weird, but a character. But if you didn't have the money, reading newspapers was just another proof of it. A sign that you can't afford any other entertainment, like a cell phone.
Scott was just telling him where to find used gear and armor when someone walked up behind Jason's back. He managed to keep himself relaxed, so even when the hand lowered at his shoulder - and Stiles and Scott's faces tensed - he didn't lost his cool.
"Hey," Jason said, turning to see Jackson behind him.
"Why are you here with the loser brigade?" Jackson scrunched up his face. "We were waiting for you."
"I was lost, and I found myself some company. Jealous? Should have responded to my text twenty minutes ago."
"Ugh, come on, come on, I will introduce you to Lydia."
"Now's my turn to be jealous," Jason said, getting up.
He didn't quite know what to say, so he said everything that came to mind. Jackson was kind of used to it, from their weeks of running together. Stiles and Scott, though, gaped.
Jason hoped they weren't like Matt. He waved at them on the chance they weren't, and Scott waved back. Though, not Stiles.
Jackson noticed his sigh.
"What?" He looked back and scowled. "Stilinsky said something funny to you?"
Jason shrugged.
"I mean, he seemed pretty chill. But might have disliked my jokes about jealousy. And I don't know him enough to know if it's the gay thing as in, me treating homosexuality as a joke, or gay thing as in, he is going to stay away from the gay guy thing."
"Don't worry, Stilinsky is an asshole, but he's not that kind of asshole. If he was, I would kick his ass to the next Tuesday. But, uh, you're gay?"
Jason shrugged.
"I dunno. I don't know if I'm anything, if that makes sense. My father... Was pretty strict. I didn't have much friends, and. I dunno, it's just never came up. But," he stopped Jackson with the hand on his shoulder, looking into his eyes. "I really was joking about jealousy. You're not my type."
Jackson punched him in the shoulder, and they both laughed.
"So what's your type? I know you said it never came up, but, the best you figure."
Jason glanced at Jackson, who was trying for nonchalant but missing a beat. Maybe Matt wasn't far off when he suggested that Jackson was playing a wingman for Danny.
He smiled to himself, feeling a bit nervous. He didn't really know how to answer the question best.
"I really have no idea. It's not about the looks, for sure. I grew up around professional model-looking types. Nobody really rang a bell for me. I like chill people though. People with a nice smile. Or a mean smile, maybe. A genuine one."
Not like the one he himself wore, most of the time.
He shrugged again. He did like that, but he wouldn't call it attraction.
"Alright," Jackson said, and clapped him on his back. "You will figure it out."
***
Jason might have been mistaken in thinking that Jackson wanted to set him up with Danny. Or maybe his answers were unsatisfactory, and he changed his mind. Over the course of the night, Jackson introduced him to a shit ton of people. Presumably, to help him "figure it out".
It wasn't hard for Jason to remember their faces, names, and basic facts they shared about themselves, but it was hard to come up with the topics of conversation. Jason didn't follow sports, or celebrities, knew nothing of local gossip, wasn't even into online gaming. He talked a bit about his blog, but in the end, the topic bored him before it could bore the new people, so he just shared a link when they asked.
When Jason noticed Danny, he wanted to make his way other, but noticed a guy who struck up a conversation with him. Danny had a nice smile. Damn.
He didn't feel particularly crushed. Maybe it answered the question, maybe it didn't. He was a bit overwhelmed, and went to catch a breath outside.
There were people by the pool, but not further into the backyard, where the garden started. He almost bummed a cigarette from a random guy, just so he wouldn't feel out of place, but then he thought, fuck it. He was out of place. He wasn't relapsing his smoking habit because standing alone in the middle of a crowd of unfamiliar teenagers was unsettling. Because if he did, he would smoke all two years of high school that were left, and then he simply wasn't stopping.
It was a short lived relief, being alone in the garden, because very soon he was not alone so much. There was Stiles, and a girl with a small designer dog.
"Uh, how did your summer..."
"What do you want, Stiles."
"Nothing! Just saying hello. It's your party, after all, would be rude if I didn't even say a word to you."
"And this is why you followed me when I took Gucci for a walk. Sure. Because I'd talk to all three hundred of guests currently in my house. Otherwise it's rude."
Jason tensed. So that was Lydia. And Stiles was... Stalking her a bit?
"No, not you-rude, me-rude. Sorry. I can leave if you want."
"Oh, wouldn't it be rude of me if I sent you away."
"Not that it stopped you ever before. Like when you publicaly ignore my existence."
"And you don't think I have a reason for that?"
"Sure. Your boyfriend thinks I'm a loser, ergo, you feel I'm a loser."
"Oh, Stiles, it's not that - it's that I have a boyfriend at all, and your puppy crush is obvious from space. I don't need the drama. And FYI? That's not how you use 'ergo', unless you think I have no mind of my own."
She picked up the dog and went back. Stiles stayed, sighing frustratedly.
Jason thought for a second, whether to disappear or come out. In the end, he whistled, before Stiles turned to head back.
Stiles immediately turned around, but it took him a moment to find where Jason was standing.
"Enjoyed the show, Greenberg?" He asked, harshly.
"Not particularly, no," Jason said honestly. "I really don't like when guys don't get the hint."
"You friends with Jackson for a month and now you're going to be teaching me a lesson on his behalf?" Stiles squeezed his fists.
Jason could see that he wasn't scared, but he was expecting an attack. And that wasn't who Jason was - not now, and not ever.
He put his hands in the air, placatingly.
"You keep your hands to yourself, I keep mine."
Stiles was taken aback.
"You think I would?.. I wouldn't!"
Jason waved his hand dismissedly.
"If I got a penny every time I heard "I would never" when a guy, in fact, would or had - I'm not saying I would be a Lex Luthor, but I might have no need for a waiter job."
"I know, I'm the son of the Sheriff, you don't need to..."
"Even if you were a Sheriff yourself, I don't care," Jason cut him off. "Okay?"
Stiles huffed, and then went back to the house.
Jason, though, he decided to call it a night and went back to the place he rented.
#jason todd#dc comics x teen wolf#crossover#my fics#wip#red hood and teen wolf i swear i don't understand why there's no more crossovers#because red riding hood get it? get it?#anyway#au for jason past his training with all caste#pre season 1 teen wolf
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