#maybe he wouldn't have been pushed in the fountain if he would just let people listen to their music in peace | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aangelinakii · 4 months

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TALK.

— swimming... fountains?

summary : the two of you had been best friends since god knows when. maybe things turn out differently when you pull him in.

not proofread !

for as long as he could remember, dick grayson was utterly in love with you. from the way you held yourself, to the way you smiled at him, and down to the jokes you teased him with that he wouldn't let anyone else slide with.

ever since you were kids, you consumed his every thought. but what he didn't realise, was that you felt the same.

of course, it was a situation of miscommunication; simply just being too afraid to bring it up to the other, and not being able to read the hidden feelings of one another.

as nightwing, trained detective, dick knew how to read people. he could match a villain to their alter ego by simply passing them in the street on his way to grab a sub sandwich for lunch, but with you it was just different. maybe because it was a matter involving himself, as opposed to simply onlooking others. he felt conscious of his role in your life, and didn't want to manipulate things to follow his wishes.

put simply, he respected you immensely, and didn't want to force you into a situation he was scared you didn't want to be in. perhaps that was why you were better off as best friends.

on days neither of you had anything to do, you walked through the various parks of gotham, usually talking about how the past week had gone, or how the how many days that had passed between seeing each other had gone.

today, the two of you did just that. it was normal, nothing to be thought of it... right?

"i dunno, bruce has been stricter on us recently," dick chimed up in response to your question about his recent patrols. "so i don't really know what's going on."

pursing your lips, you gave a shrug. "even from when i've met him, he doesn't seem too lively. maybe he's just going through something."

"that's what i'm worried about."

and dick gave a sigh, one that held more weight than he was letting on. clearly this was something bigger than either of you two knew.

for a moment, you sized him up, watching as his eyes trained on the pebbly ground ahead. with the back of your hand, you nudged his arm, causing him to perk up.

"hey, how about we get some ice cream? maybe even sundaes from that shop on fourth?"

at this, his eyes lit up, stormy skies clearing with the reemergence of the sun, along with his charming smile. you knew he would be more than happy to, even if he didn't say so.

before you, the water fountain was approaching, with each step the two of you took. as it came up, you brought your foot onto the ledge, and began to walk along it.

as if like clockwork – because of the amount of times he had been with you as you walked along the fountain – dick held his hand out to your, soft palm up to the sky. in his field of work, it was a miracle he could keep his hands from getting calloused.

without having to think about it, you placed your hand in his, fitting like a puzzle piece; like a glove; lock and key.

"i already know what i'm going to get," dick piped up once again, his other hand snug in the pocket of his jeans. "rocky road, vanilla, and strawberry. maybe some butterscotch and marshmallows. i might gain a few, but i'll work it off tonight, anyway."

a laugh brushed past your lips, and you opened your mouth to reply. but any words about to escape slipped past without a sound, for your foot slipped. the fountain's ledge was slightly wet, probably from where a bird wanted a quick bath, or someone playing fetch with their dog actually threw the ball in and water splashed everywhere.

whatever it was that had happened, you were falling, no birds or dog toys could change that. and when you looked over at dick, mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock, he was falling, too.

with a deafening splash! the two of you were splayed out in the water fountain, gasping at the chill, trying to push yourselves to sit up.

"oh my god!" you gasped, pushing your soaked hair out of your eyes, which were wide as they looked over at dick, who seemed just as shocked as you. "are you okay? i'm so sorry!"

"no, no, i'm fine," dick replied, running a hand through his raven hair, looking around at the situation as if not truly believing he was sitting in a water fountain, where literally anybody could walk past and find him. if he found any front pages with his photo on them, he would not be too happy.

on his knees, he waded over to you, and your eyes noticed the way his white shirt grew translucent in the water.

"you," he began. "are you okay? you're not hurt, are you?"

for a moment, you were worried maybe you were, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had deafened the pain, and you frantically moved to inspect if you still had all limbs.

opposite you, a chuckle brushed past dick's lips. "you look fine," he hummed. and when you looked up, his expression was soft; almost more stripped, more genuine, with the droplets of water lingering on his cheek and eyelashes.

"fine?" you repeated airily, the ghost of a disbelieving laugh running out with your breath. "like, i'm fine, or i don't look damaged?"

if you blinked, you would miss it. dick's blue eyes roamed your appearance briefly, the smile lingering at his lips. "yeah, you're fine," he replied casually.

he sat on his knees before you, not seeming to mind the cold water seeping through his clothes – which were probably more expensive than your rent – just smiling up at you, the chill causing a light flush to creep onto his cheeks. after a moment, his smile faltered, and he seemed to grow self-conscious.

"i want to talk to you about something."

you gave a laugh. "really? is this really the right time for that?" you questioned with a half-chuckle, eyes glancing around at the situation the two of you had found yourselves in; sitting pretty in a water fountain, where people were beginning to take notice. but hey ho, it was gotham; stranger things have happened.

dick paused, and, passing over a few beats, gave a bashful shrug. "i don't know. it might be. i don't think there would ever be a right time for this."

with a furrow of your brow, you narrowed your eyes at him. "what's up?" you hummed, repositioning yourself to sit more comfortably on your knees, the water rippling around you.

his mouth opened, readying to speak, but he looked away, seemingly thinking over his words, judging by that inquisitive glint in his eye. but he finally looked back at you.

"you know how much i appreciate you, right?"

at his words, the corner of your mouth twitched, aching to hold back a smile. "yeah, of course. i appreciate you too, dick."

"like," he continued, chuckling softly, "i'm not even mad that you ruined my clothes by pulling me into a fountain in the middle of the park. seriously. not even mad at all. if you were tim, i would be holding your head under the water right now."

you gave a nod, eyes flickering to the side. "where is this going?"

dick exhaled through his nose, expression hardening as he looked over at you. "i think you're great. i think you're great when you fall into a water fountain and bring me with you; i think you're great when you send me a text before i go on patrol telling me to 'keep safe'. i think you're great when we go on walks, and when we go share an ice cream sundae, and when you remember my subway order—"

"how am i supposed to forget that you like your subway melts with way too many pickles to even be normal?"

and he laughed, that softness that you just adored shining through once more, causing you to crack a grin as well.

"what i'm saying..." dick began once his chuckle had trailed off, eyes gazing into the trickling stream pooling from the statue in the centre of the fountain. "i guess... maybe i wish we weren't friends."

almost as soon as the words left his mouth, your eyebrows creased and your jaw dropped. "what– that doesn't make sense—"

"i'm in love with you, (y/n)," he finished, cutting off your confusion with barely a full sentence, his lips trembling. "okay? is that okay?"

how could you even reply to that?

noting your lack of response, dick continued to talk, trailing off awkwardly. he was ready for your years of friendship to be over.

"i just suppose we tell each other everything, and i kind of felt – i don't know – guilty that i was leaving this out. especially since it involves you. i know if you ever had a problem with me you would tell me, and the same for me with you, but i could never have a problem with you, i just thought it was the same sort of principle, i dunno—"

warmth clashing against the chill of the water, soft skin meeting soft skin. only for a moment. and it was over.

you pulled away, eyelids fluttering open to look at your best friend expectantly. best friends can't be best friends after this.

he felt for you the way you felt for him.

after every patrol, no matter how tired, he always made an effort to knock on the window of your bedroom, and bring by one of your favourite snacks, or even just to tell you about how it had gone; you adored it, the way he was so thoughtful. you thought he was just doing it because that's what best friends do.

he used to help you study for tests, and make sure you knew the content back to front before you went in.

some nights you would dance in the kitchen to your favourite oldies whilst cooking a dinner to watch in front of a good film; and it was those moments that you felt really connected him to you. but you thought it was just what best friends did.

as you looked up at him, lips thinning anxiously, dick's face softened, eyebrows upturning, the corners of his mouth pulling down.

"you just... kissed me," he breathed, his breath fanning your tingling lips. "why did you just kiss me?"

"why do you think, doofus?" you scoffed playfully, bringing a hand to softly nudge his shoulder, despite the bashfulness evident on your face. "i think i'm in love with you, too."

#aangelinakii #dc #dc comics #dc reactions #dc imagines #dc headcanons #dc universe #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #dick grayson imagines

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happyk44 · 9 months

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The thing was Percy didn't like being a bad kid. Every time he got kicked out of a school or wound up in the counselor's office over some incident he wasn't completely blameless for, his mom's brows would pinch. The line on her lip dipped. He knew what she was thinking each time: lost wages, job risk, who was going to watch him if he got suspended, where would she send him if he got kicked out, and so on.

He hated that he did that to her. Being a bad kid meant being a bad son. He refused to be a bad son - not on purpose anyway.

Well, he used to. She wasn't here anymore. Her brows weren't going to furrow. Her lips wouldn't thin. Her shoulders wouldn't draw up and tense before the principal even opened their mouth. It was over.

He didn't have anyone anymore. Nobody at cabin eleven would look at him. Other cabins steered around him like he was carrying the plague. Grover was off doing whatever satyrs did - probably getting ready to infiltrate some new school, befriend some new kid, save their lives. He didn't need Percy. It’d only been a few days but they'd barely interacted. Older satyrs would yank him along into the wood before Percy could get close or even open his mouth. Even Annabeth just eyed Percy with scrutinizing eyes - like she was assessing him for something. But every time he tried to approach her outside of their lessons, she brushed him off.

No one wanted Percy around.

What was the point of being a good kid anymore? There wasn't anything or anyone forcing him to keep his head above water. He was tired of the murmurs. He was tired of the avoidance. Tired of the glares from the Ares cabin. Tired of trying to keep the quake in his stomach tamped down.

He was just tired.

He thumbed along the flat edge of his sword. His new best friend was the pervasive feeling of loneliness. With a miserable sigh, he tucked the sword into the holster on his hip. People barely wanted to spar with him now so he was stuck to sweating it out on the dummies by himself. At least only when Luke wasn't pushing him as hard as possible.

But even with Luke there seemed to be pause. The first time Percy felt his gut yank after being claimed had been in training with Luke, and as soon as the feeling caught him, Luke begged off. Like he'd seen something in Percy that unnerved him. Sometimes when Percy looked in the mirror, he saw something in his eyes that unnerved him. A foreign thing - like a contact lens put in the wrong way.

No amount of poking or prodding at his eyes was going to get it out though. It was inside him - in his blood. He was sure of it.

He was starting to worry that it was the very thing he'd been keeping back, the very thing his mom was trying to keep him safe from.

The clang of metal against metal was loud as he walked past other trainees. There were a couple people leaning against the wall near the water fountain. As expected, they shifted away as he neared. Mistrust was bright in their eyes.

He did his best to ignore it. Not the first time people had stared at him like they thought he was dangerous. Or beneath them.

The water sprayed for a moment before he lowered his head. It was clarifying. He'd noticed it before, a burst of energy with every sip whenever he was tired, but ever since being claimed, he'd noticed the alertness more and more.

As he let go of the button, he caught the tail end of the muttering nearby. His stomach dropped.

“... should've ditched him sooner,” one boy grumbled. His friend snorted. “Maybe then she wouldn't have died.”

“What did you say?” The two startled. Percy understood why. He barely recognized his own voice, the eerie coldness to it frosty on his own tongue. Still, he repeated as he twisted on his heels to face them. “What. Did you just say?”

Panic besot them. For a second, the barest of a second, he could feel it kick in - be a good boy for me, Percy, be a good kid for Mom.

But she wasn't here.

She wasn't here.

So what was the point?

He took a step forward. “What,” he snarled, saliva coating his tongue like froth, “did you say?”

The others shifted away but he just crept forward. “Nothing, man,” one of them finally bit out, but they were lying. He could see it in their eyes, hear in their voice, feel it in their veins.

“You're lying,” he said. A bitten off laugh echoed from his lips. “You were talking about my mom.” Another choked laugh. “You think it's my fault?”

One of them raised his hands - a mock surrender. “Hey, dude-”

“You think I wanted her to die?” A sharp sensation coiled through Percy's chest. It thrummed hot and heavy, piling, piling, piling on his lungs. “You think I asked for ANY OF THIS?”

Someone's hand came to rest on his shoulder and it was like the crashing of the waves against his bare feet. Cold, clarifying, clear.

Freeing.

His fist drove straight into the jaw of whoever was behind him. He could barely tell who he was seeing - it might've been Luke, or any other tall blonde guy. But as soon as whoever it was stumbled back, he whirled around and punched whichever kid was closest in the stomach. They went down and he clambered on top to wail. Fist and fist upon whatever body part he could reach. He wasn't the most elegant hand-to-hand fighter but there was something to be said for the voracious and vicious energy boiling through him.

Distantly he was aware of yelling around him, aware of people pulling at him, aware of the person beneath him crying, arms over their face, arms Percy was tired of hitting. He needed to get their face, get their tongue, rip his mom from their mouth. How dare they speak about her.

How dare anyone talk about her.

A dozen hands finally yanked him back. He screamed. Bodies toppled. He grabbed the closest one by their hair, driving his knee upwards over and over again until hands ripped him away again. Swung blindly and caught someone. The two of them fell. His stomach pulled back. They choked. They weakened. He swung himself over until he was on top.

I want you all to drown, he thought, grabbing at their jaw. Don't ever speak of her again.

Saliva smeared across his fingers. His stomach pulled back even more. What was that - blood, water? On his hands, on his knees, on their skin, on their faces, in their veins.

His free hand drew out. He wanted it. It was his. Didn't they get that? She was his, and she was gone, so he would take and take all else that belonged to him until the hole in his chest was gone. Until the water they had coursing inside them filled him up.

“Percy,” someone whispered.

Their voice was familiar, breath hot against Percy's ear. He twitched. The feeling of nearby water, nearby fluid, was clenched tight in his fist. He just had to pull back. Yank it. Make it his.

The voice turned pleading. “Percy.”

He froze as two hot hands came to clasp his cheeks, dark brown eyes and curly hair blurring into view. Grover's face.

“Grover,” he breathed. For the first time since he'd ended up at camp, he relaxed.

Grover's thumbs stroked his skin. “Yeah, it's me.” He leaned in closer. “Percy, you need to stop.”

“Stop?”

“You're hurting people," he said. “You have to stop.”

Why? Percy thought. He didn't care. He didn't care if they hurt, didn't care if they drowned where they laid choking, didn't care if they suffered. It didn't mean anything to him. They didn't mean anything to him.

But this was Grover.

And with his mom gone, Grover meant the world.

“You want me to stop?”

“Yes,” Grover said. His breath was warm, his skin hot, his body close. Distantly Percy remembered nights at school like this - Grover tucked up next to him, trying his best to help Percy study when most people would've bailed. “I want you to stop.”

His lips were wobbling. His eyes were thick with wetness. His voice was unsteady - trying to be calm and rapidly failing. Even his hands shook.

Percy grabbed at his wrists. “Okay,” he whispered as he clung. His stomach relaxed slowly, the crash turning into a tickle. “I'm good, I'm good.”

Shakily, Grover exhaled, pressed his forehead to Percy's, and murmured, “I know, I know.”

His hands pulled away from Percy's face, but not away from him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. Percy's breathing wobbled as he tucked his face into the crook of Grover's neck. He clung tight and desperate. Pleading.

No, he couldn't be a good son anymore. He didn't have to bother keeping in check to avoid the thin line of his mom's lips. But he could be a good friend. To keep the tears out of Grover's eyes, the tremble from his skin.

“I can be good,” he promised quietly, for Grover's ears only. “I promise I can be good.”

“I know,” Grover said. His cheek pressed against Percy's. “I believe you.”

The fountain nearby trickled quietly. The steady flow soothed the unease between Percy's shoulders. Still, he squeezed the pillow in his grip tighter to his chest as he watched Grover flit around the bunk closest to him. He snapped the final end of the sheet around the mattress. Hooves clopped quietly against the tile as he stepped back. His gaze flickered between Percy's bed and his own.

Then he grunted and began pushing it closer.

Percy hopped up. The discarded pillow slipped from his fingers and onto the floor. He nearly tripped over it trying to get to Grover's side. They pushed the other bunk over until it was pressed into Percy's.

While Grover unfurled his blanket, Percy stepped back. Awkwardness choked him. He didn't know what to do, what to say. So he picked the pillow off from the floor and pressed it into his chest. Grover didn't spare him many glances as he worked to make up the bed. Leaning across his bunk, he yanked Percy's blanket from between the seam where the two bed frames connected and began tying the edges of both blankets together. It was shoddy work, no way it wasn't coming apart just from them lying on the sheets, much less sleeping.

But Grover did it anyway.

As he shifted back, hooves scraping the floor, Percy held out the pillow. Grover dusted off the top then laid it against the headboard. With both hands on his hips, he admired his work. Percy stared at it too. It was nice. Joined bed. Grover within direct reach.

His palms itched.

“Are you scared of me?”

Grover twisted around. His brows furrowed, but the edges of his lips were quirked upwards. It was reminiscent of school - Percy stumbling over something he read and Grover, lost but amused, over why Percy thought it was a man-of-war that Theseus fought.

He was partially grateful Grover cut him off before he could finish what he actually thought the sentence was trying to say. It certainly wasn't fight.

“I mean,” Grover started and Percy's stomach drew back. Behind him the trickle of the fountain silenced. Like the water was holding its breath too. “I'm scared for other people, but I'm not scared of you.” He punched Percy's arm with a quiet smile. “I know you're not going to hurt me, Percy. That's why I stopped you.”

The fountain began to trickle again. “And that-” He faltered. The ghost Grover's touched goosed up his bicep and across his shoulder. “-that doesn't worry you?”

That you might have to stop me again went unspoken but Grover was always good at understanding Percy's unspoken words, at knowing his unspoken feelings - even the ones Percy wasn't even aware he felt.

He sighed. “It worries me. But not because it's you.” He shook his head. “And definitely not because I'm scared of you hurting me.”

His eyes scanted away, brows furrowing deeper. Then he relaxed into the bed. After teetering on his heels for a couple seconds, Percy joined him. He gripped the edge of his shorts so tight his palms burned. Grover reached over to stroke along the back of his hand.

He exhaled slowly and let go.

“You remember Pan?” Grover asked.

Percy paused. “The satyr god, right?”

“Yeah.” Grover pulled away to tug at his fingers. “He's been missing for a while. Ever since the industrial age took off. And no one knows where he is. It's the dream of every satyr to find him, so that nature can return to the way it was.”

“That your dream?”

He nodded solemnly. “You have to be a Protector first, before you can get your Searcher’s license. But I'm not like the others.” His gaze fell down. His hands sat in his lap, cupped around nothing but air. “I don't want him just so we can bring nature back to its peak.” He sighed. “We were a lot different when Pan was still around. More free. More wild. I want satyrs and nymphs - all of us to be us again!”

Percy leaned into him. “What's stopping you?”

Grover snorted. “People forgot. We were more than just Pan's disciples. We fought to protect the wild from mankind. We didn't just sit around waiting for him to tell us what to do. But nobody wants to do anything.” He scowled. “They think when Pan returns he'll fix it all and I-” He bit his lip, then shook his head. “The world has changed. And gods don't get involved like that. Not to the extent they want him to. It's not in their nature. But if he comes back then maybe…”

He faced Percy. His eyes were watery, darkening the already dark brown of his eyes into shots of black. The welled tears glistened ever so slightly. Like the night sky, free of pollution.

His lips wobbled into a gentle smile. “But that's why I'm not afraid. You’re like nature at its purest form - chaotic, wild, unburdened.”

Normally those words wouldn't hit Percy as compliments. Insults, degradation - things that would deflate him and make his mom frown. But Grover sounded so earnest, his heart swelled.

“You can't tell, but I can feel it.” He swung his arm over Percy's shoulders and tugged him in close. “Your demigod essence, this sense of the wild that I've been searching for my whole life.” He gestured loosely. “Even the Demeter kids don't have that. Their mom is all agriculture and farming and that's great and all, but it's not pure nature, it's not the wild.” He squeezed Percy's shoulder as best he could with one hand. “You remind me of home, Percy.”

The frog Percy hadn't noticed in his throat jumped out with a burst sob-laugh. He tried to tile away, but Grover just tugged him close, bringing around his other arm to keep Percy pinned. Nonetheless his hold was fairly loose, like Percy was a stray cat he didn't want scratching him if he felt like running.

Or like he knew that Percy was the ocean through and through, unwilling to be contained, wanting to flow wherever he saw fit.

Percy practically crawled into his lap, sniffling into Grover's shoulder. Warm hands stroked up and down his back. He laughed quietly - a half-distressed noise marrying the sound, but managed a breathy wheeze of, “You remind me of home too.”

Grover kissed the top of his head. For the first time since arriving, he shattered. All his twisted up emotions committed out in a tidal wave of tears and broken gasps. All the while Grover held him. As tight as Percy clung to him, he didn't complain. Just held on even tighter. Wetness from Grover's own tears smeared across Percy's skin.

Ever the empathetic. Like his mom.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don't leave without saying goodbye,” he begged in a hollow, hoarse whisper.

“I won't,” Grover promised.

They held onto each other even as tears and cries faded away. Grover kept stroking his back with both hands. Percy continued to cling.

Shoulders shaking, Percy wound the fabric of Grover's shirt over his fingers. After a few minutes of toiling silence, he whispered. “I think I'm changing.” He pressed his forehead to Grover's collarbone. “I'm scared.” He pulled back and stared into Grover's eyes. “What do I do?”

“Be my best friend,” Grover said, like it was the simplest answer in the world. And as soon as the words fell off his tongue, it did. How silly was Percy not to think of it before? “My best friend is a good person, the best kind of wild.”

“I can do that,” Percy promised. “I swear, I can do that.”

“I know,” Grover said, squeezing Percy's cheek. His thumb swiped away at a still wet tear under Percy's eye. The stroke was soft, gentle. Kind. “I believe you.”

#percy jackson #grover underwood #i dont remember percy really having time to mourn his mom in tlt so i figured id give him a moment with grover #happy talks pjo #my writing #my fanfic #pjo fanfic #anyway grover is sleeping witj percy in his cabin to quote unquote keep an eye on him bu really they're just gonna play games #because percy is calm when grover's around #and i haven't read tlt in a while but i dont remember grover doing much with percy post arrival #so im headcanoning that its an unspoken unofficial rule that protectors arent supposed to interact yoo much with their former protectees #in order to allow for a better transition into demigod living and also so the protector in question can go out and find other demigods #🤷‍♂️ whatever whatever but grover 1) knows that percy is possessive and insane and 2) is also Percy's bestie so hes been TRYING #and Percy's attempted murder(s) came in handy for them to chill out with each other

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modelbus · 1 year

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Are you still taking requests?? And if so do you do angst? If yes to both could you maybe do a cc!tommy x reader where it's like, one-sided? Tommy is like, completely infatuated with someone else and reader is entirely in love with him and just kind of has to live with it cause they've been best friends for like, 4yrs at that point. Reader can be a streamer or not, but Tommy's fans know about them regardless from storytimes or them being in his videos. But I've had this idea in my head for like a week at this point and I need it out of my system😭

I'm sorry it took me forever to get to this! But It's finally done!

Pairing: CC!Tommy x Gn!Reader

Only one

This was worryingly easy. Unfairly easy, even. It always was, no matter what changes.

Vlogs with Tommy. Videos with Tommy. A stream with Tommy. Anything with Tommy.

It's so easy to blame it on being best friends. The symmetry between the two of you coupled with how you were both always grinning around each other was evident to anyone who spent any time with the two of you.

You and Tommy, best friends.

It's so easy to blame it on that.

How long has it been that you've been in love with him? Counting the days would be pathetic (isn't that what you are?) so you haven't. Yet.

One-sided love might be the worst thing to ever happen to you. Worse than when you scraped your knee tripping on pavement, or when Tommy "accidentally" pushed you into the water at the fountain.

There were three definite facts in your life:

1. You were hopelessly in love with Tommyinnit, and have been for nearly the entire time you've known him.

2. He, most certainly, did not feel the same way.

3. No matter how infatuated you were, you'd be his best friend for as long as he'd have you.

Of course, there were always the less certain things too. The ones that kept you up at night, worries filled in your head.

Normally when that happened, you got into a call with Tommy and played some mindless game for too long.

For example: you think Wilbur Knows. Knows, with a capital "K" because it was simply that important. On the other hand, you also think he won't tell Tommy. A small miracle.

Between the way you were always around him, attracted to him like he's the goddamn sun, and the way you're always donning the stupidest smile, it probably was obvious.

Lucky for you, Tommy was completely oblivious. And, hopefully, he'd stay that way forever.

Unlucky for you, Tommy was completely oblivious. And hopelessly obsessed with someone else.

"She's perfect, I fucking swear." He had groaned, throwing himself onto the bed next to you.

"No one's perfect, Tom." Was the cliche but true response you had come up with.

"She is."

Welcome to hell.

You were a good friend though, and you cared too much about him for your own good, so you subjected yourself to it. The torture of listening to him talk about someone else, just so you could see his smile.

And so it went.

"The fact she's even talking to me is..." He shakes his hands in the air dramatically, making you laugh even as it feels like you're breaking.

"Is she funny?" You asked one day.

"Not funnier than me." He joked, grinning. "But she's perfect, so of course she is."

He got a date with her. Of course he did, he's Tommy. How anyone wouldn't like him is beyond you.

"I gave her my jacket." He whispered over a call to you at night, after his date. "That got me good points, right? People like that shit?"

"Yeah, people like that shit. She'll be head over heels for you in no time." You had assured him.

She will be head over heels for him, eventually. But you already were.

"What if I fucked it up though?" He had groaned.

"You didn't. And if she doesn't want you, then fuck her." You might've said that with a bit too much passion. "You're awesome. Millions of people see that, so her loss."

"...Thanks. Oh fuck she's texting me!"

You'd do this forever. Let pieces of you break, until they're all broken, just to see him happy.

He was your best friend, and you were his.

And that?

That came first, over whatever feelings you had for him.

#tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit #mcyt imagine #mcyt #dsmp #tommy mcyt #dsmp tommy

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cor-lapis-candy · 2 years

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You ever thought about what would happen if Tighnari ever had to end up at the clinic in sumeru city rather than fixing himself up?

Cause I have been.

Just this once he was too far from the vile to get help, just this once he had managed to have someone with him that was less graceful than a Sumpter beast and now look at him. Tucked up in the city with all the other idiots that just wander through the forests after ignoring the Rangers, sure they are good at their jobs and all but it's...

It's just so loud!

Constant clinking, chatting, clicking and other white noise that leaves his ears ringing, no matter how hard he might try the pillow of the bed in his little section is just not thick enough to dampen the sound, and there is no way the nurse that was here before would help, she was just a little too enticed by his tail anyway.

That just left suffering through it till he was free to leave, to go back to the calm of the vile and never have to step foot in this mess of noise and chemical smells.

The one saving grace is the walls in the garden, something something strength in his legs or maybe it was his knees? Regardless Tighnari could have cared less, he will fix it himself back in his hit with his Rangers, but for now the garden was his slice of heaven the quiet murmurs of people being guided and other patients walking like him was much better.

But the true grace was you, quiet, by the fountain you, a familiar hybrid in the sense of the slope of your ears and the slight thump of your tail was just like his, albeit in another colour scheme entirely. Where he was the shadows of the forest and darkened leaves you were something else, something new and while yes he had seen others like him, family members and friends of friends, he had never seen you.

The garden became a quiet place and the perfect chance to grow closer to you, hell blame it on spring or blame it on his body being weaker due to the less than his standard quality medical care, but the time that he passed with you was working away at the binds he had on his more primal instincts.

Each quiet conversation, each slow walk through familiar and likely cloned fauna had his mind begging for the all clear, for the ability to snatch you up and offer better service under his care, a better chance at healing, and if he listened to the voice chanting in the back of his mind a perfect opportunity to have you as his mate, to pass the spring heat in his bed, in his arms, on his cock.

After all you had been receptive to his advice, walking with him, asking your nurse for the herbs he had recommended. It wouldn't be hard at all to push that final little bit and get you under his care, what were the people here going to do? Stop him? Call the Matra? He doubted it, your smart enough to back the recommendation for transfer and he...

Well let's just leave the staff here thinking that it's his leg troubling him when you press against his side, peaking over his shoulder and flicking your ear against his cheek that made him have to adjust his stance and lean against you.

Yeah, his leg, certainly not the chance at bathing you in more of his scent and most certainly not how he can subtly rut his clothes cock against you as you do...

#tighnari x reader #tighnari smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #corposting

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occasionallyprosie · 11 months

Text

Devotion - Chapter 2

Link meets a certain ex-guidance fairy, one of the few souls in existence currently who is older than him. She asks Link to stay.

AO3 Link

Tumblr Chapter 1 Link

Link roamed the depths of the forests, searching for a place he could start again. Someplace he could maybe build his own house, maybe start a small farm, really just live quietly and individually.

"Look! Look! He's magic!"

"And old! You see it! But he looks young!"

"Sir! Sir!"

A crowd of fairies fluttered around him, many colors but mostly shades of pink or blue or even yellow and green. A pink one darted up to him.

"Are you old?" She asked him.

Link laughed, smiling warmly at them. "I am very, old, ma'am."

The fairies grew excited and a lavender one appeared in front of his face.

"Are you immortal?" She asked excitedly.

Link kept a warm smile but it faltered in his confusion that he let show. "I am, why?"

"Oh he's perfect!" The fairies squealed.

"Come! Come!"

"You have to meet her!"

"The Great Mother has been waiting for someone like you!"

Without many options, Link let the fairies drag him off to a Fairy Fountain.

He wondered at the forest as it grew more magical, more doused in sugary magic.

He was pushed in front of a pond and a fluttering blue fairy flew to the center of it. In a flash of sparkling light, the blue fairy transformed to a young woman, a fair height taller than Link, but physically seemed to be about his physical age.

"Hello," she said, her voice clear and smooth. "Who might you be, that my daughters brought here?"

"He's immortal, great mother!" One fairy exclaimed, flying colorful circles around Link.

"And pretty too!" Another tapped Link's nose and he startled.

"He looks strong!" One darted between his arm and side, he jerked to hold his hands against his chest, a bit alarmed.

"He would be a great lover!" One said and Link's eyes went wide.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh..." the Great Fairy held her head. "Begone with you all! Go!"

Squealing and cheering, the other fairies all rapidly disappeared and Link was eyeing the Great Fairy warily.

"My apologies for them," she said. "I fear I made a mistake in telling them that I crave intimacy and love. I am Navi, the Great Fairy of this spring to which you have been brought. Might I know your name, immortal soul?"

Link hesitated a moment before he nodded. "I have been called many names, Great Mother. I currently use the name Raven."

"Raven," she repeated. "Welcome to my spring, I hope you find it to your liking, Sir Raven. I hope to grant you rest from your travels." She hesitated before drawing closer, eyes roaming his figure as if inspecting him. "You... Are not Hylian, not if you are immortal."

"I'm a spirit," he confirmed. "A sword spirit taking Hylian form."

"So you are." She came even closer, her hand reaching out and almost touching his arm as she grazed her hand down it. "A man... immortal... but not filled with ambition and hatred?"

"My only ambition is to guide the future generations," Link said carefully, managing to shift away from her slightly. "For them to be safe and happy. But I have done that for some centuries now, and would like to rest and take... take a vacation from the world of politics and... hylians."

Navi smiled. "Then I bid you good luck on your endeavors and I offer my spring as a sanctuary of rest for you."

Link almost thanked her and moved on, but he hesitated. Though he had no intentions of giving the Great Fairy what she apparently wished for, he wouldn't deny that a companion, a friend, who wouldn't fade away wasn't... wasn't incredibly tempting.

"For how long?" He decided to ask instead.

"As long as you wish."

"You might get sick of me."

"I doubt I could."

Link was fine with being Raven for a while. He would prefer to be able to live out some time with people who wouldn't rapidly age, mature, and then die in the blink of an eye. If only for a little while.

Link liked Navi, he thought the world of her and she was a good friend. She was friendly, engaging, and kind. He found her to be a kindred spirit, not unfamiliar with loss.

It went on for a while, a couple centuries, before he couldn’t stay anymore. He had to move, go somewhere, do something. He'd spent a long time with the fairies, doing a variety of things between learning magic, protecting the forest, and hunting monsters nearby, but he needed something new and even the enticement of someone who wouldn't disappear and leave him could make him stay anymore. His wanderlust was far too strong to ignore anymore.

Though there were tears shed, he did leave, and instead returned to the greater lands of Hyrule only to find it desolated.

It was destroyed, the golden age he had left in in had fallen to ruin. Of course the kingdom was still there, but... it was truly a fallen kingdom.

A couple years passed and he sensed it. He sensed the Sacred Realm tremble and some whispers entered his mind. Someone warning him about...

The Triforce of Power.

It was happening. It was repeating. The cycle was repeating.

There was a hero, the whispers told him. Your hero would come... and you will seal the darkness as you are meant to.

Link prepared himself. He gathered items, stocked on potions, he was a true veteran of this hero business and he wasn't letting some kid have to deal with it unprepared.

He met someone unexpected, a young boy who was soaked in familiar sugary magic.

Their name was Link, he supposed he would have to come up with a name to call himself to avoid confusion.

Under the guise of an old man, he gave the boy many things and each time he told him, “It’s dangerous to go alone! Take this.”

He had shadowed the kid, Link, protecting him often and saving the kid a fair few times without his knowledge. He was scared of letting them get hurt, he quickly figured out that the kid wasn't just who he thought he was.

Though the sugary magic that shrouded the kid was undoubtedly Navi’s, and Link could pin the goddess’ divinity in the kid’s blood that mixed with courage, that courage wasn’t just inherited.

The kid had the Triforce of Courage. This was the next hero, the current hero.

"Hey kid," he called when he met the kid again in a cave. He hid his face with a hood this time and didn't dawn the appearance of an old man. "You know, it's dangerous to go alone."

The kid laughed. "I know! You said it before!"

He chuckled and he walked over to him. "I know. So why don't you show me where we're headed next?"

"W-What? But—"

"Link, let me help you." He knelt down in front of the kid, eleven years old, and he pushed his hood back. "I'm not an old man, I'm not a Hylian either. I'm a spirit, and I'm here to protect and guide you. Let me do that, please."

Link stared at him. "O-Oh... But..." he slowly nodded. "Okay. What's your name, Mr. Spirit?"

He hesitated before ruffling the kid's hair. "You can call me Dev, how's that?"

"Dev... Okay! Come on, Dev!"

Dev smiled a bit sadly and he went along with the kid, the little sprite... a mix of fairy and divinity.

“Between the two of us, Ganon doesn’t stand a chance!” Link exclaimed, energy hiding the terror Dev could see so clearly.

“Sprite,” Dev said, stopping him. "You know you--" of course he didn't, Dev hadn't really told him, had he?

Link faltered, more confused than anything. "Is something wrong?"

"Link," Dev started, "I can't fight with you, I'm sorry--"

"What?! Why not?!" Link yelped and that terror he'd previously hidden was clear and on display. "No, no, I can't face him alone!"

"Hey, hey, you won't be alone," Dev promised, guiding Link to sit as they spoke. "I told you I'm a sword spirit, right?" Link nodded, listening raptly. "I'm the sword spirit of the Master Sword, the Master Sword is the weapon that is used to fight the darkness. You won't be alone, but I can't fight with you when you're wielding me."

"Wielding... you," Link said slowly. "Wait, then--I don't want to wield you!" He exclaimed, he looked almost affronted. "You're my friend! My-my-- My mentor and guide and-- I don't want to wield you! Why can't my sword work?"

Dev sighed softly, but with a glance at the Magical Sword he did hesitate. He was going to tell the sprite that no other weapon would be powerful enough, but... the Magical Sword was imbued with divine magic, he had forged that sword specifically to replace the Master Sword because Dev couldn't exactly wield himself. Of course that was before he decided to put down swords altogether and take on a far more supportive role, but...

"I suppose it could. It would be far harder and your blows would not be as strong, but..." he chuckled and ruffled Link's hair, "with a bit of courage and stubbornness, I think you could do it."

"We could do it," Link corrected, smiling widely as he looked up at him. Dev hid his sadness upon seeing just how much of a child Link was, barely even twelve now. "We can do it."

Dev chuckled softly. "As you wish."

Dev was a bit surprised by Link's second adventure. Zelda didn't quite recognize him at first, she was young when he left after all, so he couldn't blame her at all.

"So you're the spirit of the Master Sword," Zelda said slowly.

Dev rolled his eyes. Link was over with... the Zelda who hadn't been cursed, and therefore unaware of their conversation. "You don't have to be so formal, nightlight. But I do go by Dev now, if you don't mind."

She smiled. "I suppose that would make things much easier." She glanced at the other Zelda. "Perhaps I should think of one... where did you think of nightlight from?"

"Wow, taking away my special nickname for you?"

"Of course not! Just... taking inspiration." She smiled warmly.

Dev laughed softly. "The northern lights, because of that time your mother took you to see them and I came along as protection. I don't know if you remember that, but your mother called them nightlights for you, and you didn't stop drawing them for months after."

She nodded. "Aurora then," she decided. "I can be Aurora."

"I think that suits you," Dev said softly, giving her a warm smile. "Though, that kiss..."

Aurora went red. "Y-You saw that?!"

"Nightlight, I see everything," Dev deadpanned, though he was smirking. "I should warn you though, you're related."

Aurora's eyes went wide as she looked rapidly over at Link, who was unaware of the conversation. She looked back at Dev.

"He—Truly?"

"Mine," Dev lowered his voice. "Apparently. I can sense it, at least, he's inherited wisdom and courage and his mother is definitely an old friend of mine, I haven't figured the logistics, but... He also doesn't know. I haven't mentioned it at least."

Aurora frowned. "I see... He's my little brother them," she said decisively. "Even if he's unaware. I'm not telling him for you Un— Dev."

Dev shot her a grin. "Of course not. I'll do it eventually... Soon. I'll do it soon."

He had to, whether he wanted to or not. Link deserved to know, even if he may hate Dev for it.

Dev still didn't know how Navi had Link. He was a sword spirit for Nayru's sake, he shouldn't be able to procreate! Beside that, they never even did anything that would've logically resulted in a child. It had to be magic, but he also didn't know of any spell or ritual that would do this.

Link was just talking. Dev was listening to his Sprite just talking animatedly about a plant they'd found.

Then he was gone.

"LINK!" Dev dove for Link when that portal appeared suddenly, but it shut right behind Link, who had yelped as he suddenly fell right through it.

Dev hit the ground, horrified and shaken by what he'd just witnessed. Link was gone, taken by some portal that screamed darkness and divinity.

"No, no, no—" he couldn't sense him. Even when they were separated by practically the whole country, he could sense him. That specific mix of sweet, saccharine magic dousing the clear, natural courage and underlying wisdom. The magical fairy forest that marked Link.

He couldn't sense him.

Where was his kid?

Next >>

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #fanfic #lu hyrule #legend lu #sword spirit legend #dev legend #ao3 #hyrule lu #lu aurora #lu dawn #prosie writes #devotion au

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stay-tinystars · 3 years

Text

Crashing Into You

Ship: Seungmin x reader

Non idol au, domestic au, dad Seungmin, college au(flashback), mention of Jeongin

Word count: 1,331

Warnings: talks of roller skating, falling into water, being pushed, oreo cookie consumption.

**pic from 2021 seasons greetings**

I smiled as I leaned against the door frame. It had been a long day, work ran late, then there was traffic on my way home. I watched as my sweet husband slept on the couch with our five year old on his lap. The two of them looked adorable with dark crumbs around their mouths, a box of oreos was open on the coffee table.

A few years ago I never would've thought I'd see this perfect sight. Especially not with the man who I met when he literally crashed into me.

It was a very warm day for early spring. I just finished my last final for the semester. With the warm weather and sun out, I decided to walk through the park on my way to my shared apartment. It would be a well deserved treat, plus I wouldn't have to deal with the drama of my roommates who still had finals left.

I smiled as I relaxed onto my usual spot on the cement ledge of the fountain. I always enjoyed the view from this spot. The small hill with a play set at the top, the trees dotting the pathway to my right. The sound of the fountains flowing water always helping mask the sounds of the city. I placed my bag near my feet as I leaned back, taking in the fresh air. The sun warmed cement comforting me, melting away the remaining stress of the semester. Only one more semester till i was finished. I took a deep breath in as I closed my eyes. Letting the sun soak into my skin, the sound of the water fulfilling the serene moment.

The moment was broken by a panicked scream, followed by "Look out!" I opened my eyes to see a blur of man barreling down the hill, towards me on roller skates. His dark hair flying, as he waved his arms frantically in an effort to slow him down. With his fast approach all I could do was hold up my hands in an effort to stop him, and protect myself. I screamed as he collided into me. The momentum sent us both into the fountain.

We both gasped as we emerged from the water. "Oh my God I'm so sorry!" He sputtered. "Are you injured? Oh my god" I finally got an unblurred sight of the man. His dark hair now wet against his forehead, his jeans and yale shirt soaked through. I blinked the water away from my eyes best I could as his brown eyes met mine. I smiled softly as I looked into them. They reminded me of a puppy; soft, warm and apologetic.

"It's okay, I'm not hurt. Are you alright?" I asked as I made my way to stand. He nodded then cursed under his breath as he looked around.

"Where is he?" He growled.

"Who?" I looked around, ringing out my shirt. I couldn't see anyone besides the children on the playground.

"Jeongin, my friend who is making me learn how to use these stupid things" he said lifting his feet out of the water, before trying to rip off the roller skates.

"Why is he making you learn?" I asked, making my way to the edge of the fountain, trying not to slip on the coins people had thrown in.

"He wants to go to the roller rink for a date. He wants me to double with him." He huffed as he stood, then threw the roller skates. "Oh no my phone" He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket. The case did little to protect from water, hopefully it wouldn't be ruined.

"Maybe set it in the sun, and if that doesn't work I heard dry rice does" I shrugged as I climbed out of the fountain, then offered my hand to help him out. He smiled and gave a slight nod as a thank you as he took my hand to step out.

"Again I'm so sorry! I feel like I need to make it up to you" he said as he took his phone out of its case then sat it on the cement. He sighed as he plopped down next to it. A small squishing sound as he sat made me smile.

"Don't worry about it. It's just water." I shrugged, ringing out my hair, then sat beside him. "So if you don't know how to roller skate, how were you going so fast?" I chuckled.

"Well my friend told me he'd help me learn. So I expected him to guide me, once I was able to stand in them. Instead he pushed me, then yelled 'it's like learning to swim just keep yourself up right.'' he grumbled looking around again. I started laughing.

"I'm sorry to laugh, but it looks like you did take the swimming part to heart." I smiled, as he chuckled. "At least you stayed upright until you reached the fountain. I would've toppled almost immediately."

"You can't roller skate either?" He asked, I shook my head.

"I can barely stay upright when I put them on. I have never understood how people can move forward, let alone do all those fancy tricks." I leaned back on my hands as I stretched my legs out in an effort to dry myself.

"I know we just met, but I feel like I need to make things better. Do you want to try to roller skate with me?" His words were fast and jumbled.

I furrowed my brown in confusion. "We just discussed that we are both bad at roller skating."

He sighed. "What I meant is, I need a date to the skating rink. And if nothing else we can both just talk and snack while Jeongin and his date do their own thing."

"I assumed you already had a date" I sat up.

"Well Jeongin suggested that if I learned how to skate, it would be easier to find a date." He shrugged as he watched the bottom of his jeans drip. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"Well I'd like to say yes, but I don't even know your name." I smiled.

"Oh, Seungmin. My name is Seungmin"

I walked over grabbing a tissue from the coffee table and wiped Seungmin's mouth gently. His eyes opened groggily, a sleepy smile appeared. "Hi sweetheart." He yawned.

"Hi. What happened to you agreeing to putting Minsu to bed on time?" I asked crouching down, a smile on my lips as I thought about the text he sent earlier when I let him know I would be late.

"He wanted to stay up, he made you something at school today" Seungmin stretched. Then yawned while motioning towards the small side table. I stood, and went over to the small table. I smiled as I looked down at the crayon covered paper.

"Your home" Minsu's tired voice was accompanied by a yawn. "I drew the park" I looked down at the green and yellow covered paper. A few scribbles of red, and purple dotted the paper. "Channie ate the blue crayon. So I did yellow like the sun for the sky, and purple for the fountain"

"Why the park?" I chuckled, bringing the drawing back to the couch, then sitting next to the two.

"You like the park. That's where dad met you." His tiny eyes damp with sleep, as he leaned into me. I placed my arm around him and kissed his head.

"I do like the park. Now let's get you to bed." I said standing. He groaned.

"I can't go to bed yet."

"Why?" I looked at him.

"I need to hear the story again." His eyes big and pleading, just like his fathers. "It can be my bedtime story."

I looked at Seungmin who smiled. His eyes still reminding me of a puppy.

"Let's go brush our teeth then" Seungmin said, sweeping up Minsu in his arms and carrying him to the bathroom.

#stayhavennet #kpopccc #straykidsland #skz drabbles #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz seungmin #stray kids seungmin #stray kids scenarios #kim seungmin #seungmin fluff #seungmin imagines #seungmin x reader

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queerfables · 4 years

Text

Would y'all like some Supernatural Lore dropped on you that I assume was common knowledge at some point but which, as a new fan, I haven't really seen talked about? If so, settle in to learn about the origin of the phrase "The French Mistake", and some cinematic history on fourth-wall breaking that hits real differently in light of season 15.

We all know "The French Mistake" as the title of That One Episode where Supernatural goes so meta the real world becomes part of the show (also Misha Collins gets murdered?? I might as well confess now I haven't actually seen this episode, I'm still working my way through to it. Hopefully that doesn't become a problem...) Anyway, what you might not know is the title comes from the movie Blazing Saddles.

With some caveats, Blazing Saddles is an absolutely incredible movie: it's a comedy western made in 1974 about a Black man who becomes the sheriff of a racist town, defeats capitalism and gets a cute sharp-shooting boyfriend. The "boyfriend" part is subtext, but it's pretty damn loud.

So where does "The French Mistake" come in? It's the name of what might be the movie's most iconic scene. In the middle of the climax, a big western shoot-out turned brawl, the camera pans up out of the town and onto an adjacent movie set. The brawling cowboys burst through the wall of that set, out of their own film and onto the new set where they continue to fight. This is why the episode of Supernatural is named for this scene. Just like in Blazing Saddles, Sam and Dean stumble out of their fictional world and onto a film set.

Here's the part that takes this from good to GREAT: in Blazing Saddles, the set they burst onto is a musical, being filmed in the style of a Busby Berkeley number, and before our cowboys break through that fourth wall, we see a staircase lined with chorus boys. They are dancing suggestively, thrusting their hips and singing a song called The French Mistake.

Throw out your hands. Stick out your tush. Hands on your hips. Give them a push. You'll be surprised, you're doing the French mistake.

Look. Guys. It's a song about anal sex. It's being sung by a group of gay men. When the cowboys break the wall and stumble onto the set of the musical, one of them starts out fighting with one of the chorus boys and ends up walking off arm in arm with him. Two other chorus boys go for a romantic swim in a fountain.

"The French mistake" is a reference to the breaking of the fourth wall but it's also literally a euphemism for queer sex. Blazing Saddles makes breaking the fourth wall intrinsically tied to queerness breaking into the heterosexual narrative (I could write an entire essay on how that plays out in the relationship between the leads, Bart and Jim. Suffice to say they trade their horses for a limousine and drive off into the sunset together). Worth considering: are the metanarratives and fourth wall breaking on Supernatural also intrinsically tied to queerness manifesting in the narrative?

For a whole host of reasons, Mel Brooks thought Warner Bros would bury Blazing Saddles rather than release it. He told everyone working on it to just go wild and do all the things they wanted to do but never expected to get away with, because the chances were good it wouldn't matter. He had the right to the final cut - meaning that the execs couldn't force him to make any edits - but he didn't know if the film would ever see the light of day. It did, though, and ended up being a major hit. Brooks talked about this, and in particular the French Mistake scene, in an interview with Entertainment Weekly:

That was dangerous because I was asked by Warners — they said I can do everything you said, but they kept saying, “Don’t do the gay scene. Don’t break through the walls and do the gay scene. You’re crossing a line there.” I said, “Don’t be silly.” There’s always these musicals being shot at Warner Bros. with top hats and tails and dopiness, you know. I said, “It’s a good mixture of cowboys and gay chorus boys.” So I kept it all in. I had final cut.

There's something kind of familiar about that, right? Don’t break through the walls and do the gay scene. Queerness and metanarratives bound together, threatening the status quo. This scene in Blazing Saddles was so threatening to Warner Bros that above everything else in a very boundary-pushing movie, this was the one they wanted to cut.

One more thing that hits different after season 15, from another really meta episode... Yeah, I'm referring to the famous "why lamp?" scene. Other people have already talked about how the way Dean's dancing sequence in The Hero's Journey recalls the Hays Code and deliberate queer-coding in classic Hollywood. But I want to go further and say that it also specifically recalls the scene I've been talking about, Blazing Saddles' 'The French Mistake' scene.

Maybe this is just because it's drawing on the same frame of reference, or maybe it's more deliberate, but either way, the parallels are there, down to the suggestive song playing (We're all alone, no chaperone... let's misbehave). It's really telling to me that this dance sequence so closely parallels a scene that was almost censored for being too gay.

#Supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #blazing saddles #fable speaks

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courtorderedcake · 5 years

Text

Hallow : ch IV - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Read on AO3 here.

Ch 4 / ?? - In which Emma hears Liam and Elsa's tale

Ingrid, Elsa, and Anna wasted no time at all, Emma appearing in the shop front slightly past noon. The older ladies buying bread and a teenage boy carrying several boxes of pastries noticed her first, their eyes snapping to the door she came from. The teenager made a noise between a wheeze and a gulp as the old women tutted, causing Killian to look up with his ever permanent annoyance. The smile under the loose waves of her hair was shy, and in the sundress of coral and cream, Emma was a captured ray of sunshine. Or she would be, if the smile reached her tired and slightly puffy eyes.

They walked to the park together, Killian’s annoyance tempered by her fascination with everything in the many touristy shop fronts. She marveled at stones and crystals that were marked as magical, whispering how clever they were if they'd gotten them right, and how sneaky they were if they tried to trick others. In another shop she questioned a well meaning sales clerk about corduroy and a peculiar blouse with capped sleeves that read ubiquitously, "Summer of Love", asking what other summers they observed.

When the shop clerk laughed her off, Emma shrugged and joined in. People loved her instantly, as if they had known her their entire lives; the Fae thrall of old that she unknowingly employed was a matter of charisma, combined with her natural beauty, an unerring grace, and her rapturous attention on every word spoken to her. Killian watched her in fascination as well, the Darkness puzzling over their observations. Emma shot him a happy grin, but beneath it was a foundation of the old world decorum that he had once adhered to religiously - she was weary, and the cracks in her undetectable armor were there. There was no reason for her to be doing this, he realized, especially with him of all people. It was a facade, and a very well polished one.

Moving to pull her away, they escaped from a store front caller who had been talking to her about the "future of sound" that was coming on eight different tracks, a large, flat, black circle in his hand. Killian could feel her sway towards him in gratitude, bumping him to the side. As sudden as her playfulness was in the gentle push, her mask was back up as they entered the gates of the park.

It took Emma all of four minutes to raise his hackles. He'd forgotten about the bloody fountain; one second she was by his side, then the next she was wading into the coin filled bottom of the pool, a geyser shooting from rocks above her.

"What the seven hells are you doing?" he’d called sharply over the roar of the water. Emma shrugged kicking a bit of water at him, looking for a minute absolutely impishly spiteful. "Just who are you, Swan? What sort of princess goes wading into fountains, especially those most definitely used for decor?"

She glared at him, but it was tempered by tiredness. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Perhaps .

"Perhaps I would, darling."

She hummed for a moment, watching another geyser shoot towards the sky. "I am not your love, or your darling." Emma fumed, eyes cast down at her feet, her face falling fractionally, allowing only the tiniest slip of her mask to happen quickly before she wiped water from her face with a pressed on smile. Anger gone, forced down to be forgotten behind thick walls.

Picking up a few more coins as she made her way back to him, she examined them in her palm. "These coins feel like… Are they enchanted?"

Killian shook his head, looking at a silver coin with the engraving 1967. "They're wishes."

Emma's eyes lit up brightly, and before he could stop her, Emma dipped a finger in the water. Several bubbles rose around coins, popping in a burst of pink sparkles.

"Do not use your magic -" he hissed, lunging forward into the water, eyes wild.

"Stop worrying, old man. I used only a tiny bit of magic. I only granted wishes for people who are here, and ones that wouldn't take a lot of power. A tiny bit will be fine."

She had to be insane, wet from the fountain and laughing at him, her walls as high as ever.

"No -" A bubble the size of a hippo floated past. "Bloody hell -"

“Isn't this what humans do here? Have fun in the park?” Her smile was pure happiness and joy, as bright as the midday sun.

He thought back to Milah, Elsa, Anna, and their schoolmates in ladies’ refinement courses. There had been a turn of phrase they parroted: 'Fake it until you can make it'.

The Darkness wasn't the only one perplexed by her willingness to push her other emotions down, at least; Killian found it vexing in its own right. Moreover, he hated that it reminded him of Milah, like a stab to the charcoal lump that had once been his heart.

“They don't wade into fountains, or do magic in front of unsuspecting passersby. They walk or read a book -”

“Show me, then!” Emma grabbed his hand. Instantaneously, two things happened within him, both unsettling. First, the Darkness shrunk back like a wild animal, practically spitting. Secondly, and more worrying, her touch lit something long buried that spread through his body, filling his chest with heat. Her magic pushed the Darkness down, while a sort of levity flooded his veins in its place, as if someone had thrown open a window to let in fresh air - and he could breathe easier than he had in a long time.

When she stopped to pet a dog, letting go of him, the feeling didn't fade. Instead, her laugh as she watched the dog wag its tail fueled it, and he felt…

“They don't talk here,” Emma murmured, leaving the dog's owner looking perturbed. “How peculiar.” She scratched under its chin, as Killian exchanged a nervous glance at the owner.

“Always joking, this one,” Killian laughed, trying to assuage the strange looks the owner gave them. Pulling Emma away, she spotted something else that caught her eye. She quickly led him through the dappled sunshine.

Following Emma around as she smelled flowers, describing the palace garden, or rolled down a grass hill, her laughter infectious, he felt a connection with her that he couldn't explain. Kinship due to nobility? Unlikely, and he hadn't been much of a noble in his own right. That was Liam, with his regimens and regiment, living up to long-standing expectations to fulfill the duties of their lineage.

When she reached for him, her hand outstretched and head cocked as the wind blew through her hair, he took it to test his theory. Resting his hand in hers she ran, pulling him across the park, the Darkness knotted itself up in hatred. It occurred to him that maybe she was sent by Ingrid to accompany him, some ploy in which to get them both away from the shop. It wasn't a bad plan at all, in retrospect.

All the while, even as it was caged, the Darkness puzzled at her actions. It squirmed in confusion as to why she was acting like she didn’t have a care in the world when it was obvious that her sadness and anger must lie right below the surface. Hiding her emotions with set shoulders, she blew raspberries at a baby that played in the grass near its parents, much to the small child's delight and the Darkness' displeasure.

In a secluded alcove off a deserted trail, she stepped barefoot into a meadow, letting flowers grow around her in the tall grass. Emma did cartwheels as people seemed to follow her, a group coming shortly to begin a drum circle, a small gaggle of girls making flower crowns, and another group doing cartwheels with Emma, their skirts all tucked in as much as possible. Even in its lessened noise, Killian could hear the ticking way the Darkness thought, and felt it grapple with hiding its ploys.

They fed ducks, and she made him smile as she made sure the ducklings got their fair share of the cabbage they had bought. While most creatures stayed away from him, a quick glimpse in her direction showed a menagerie of water fowl, along with two peacocks, all vying for her attention. Even brightly colored fish nibbled at her toes and for a moment, it was easy to forget the turmoil her life was in, until she looked up and the light hit her just so. There was no denying that her pain was there, but well camouflaged; there was a familiarity to it that made Killian uneasy. The Darkness retreated further, a sure sign that it would be back with a vengeance later. If he had learned anything from years alone with it in his prison, it was that its quiet was never good news.

A bubble blower showed her how to use a rope, and soon she'd created giant bubbles that chased the breeze in detailed, impossible shapes, the wish of a child that she had granted. A band performed in a pavilion, and Killian let her convince him to dance together for a song. She seemed skittish around other men without his company.

Killian tripped a few times, actually feeling shy with embarrassment and frustration when she winced at his attempts to lead.

“I'm sorry, it has been a while,” he mumbled.

“You're doing fine. This is fun, the music here is so wonderful!” Emma giggled in bubbly cheer, but her eyes were somewhere else.

The song continued, and he found his footing, leading her with ease. Emma floated in his arms, sundress flaring out beneath the hand resting at her waist with each turn about the plaza. She seemed to drift away into her thoughts for a moment, enjoying a simple waltz.

Another man interrupted and asked her to dance, but Killian found watching them brought another kind of heat that was unpleasant: something he’d almost call jealousy , if he didn’t know better. He didn't like the way the other man touched her, hands too low and his body too close to hers. The lewdness didn’t go unnoticed, and Emma removed his hand, whispering something that made the man quickly end their dance. If it rattled her, she only showed the slightest bit of distaste as she watched him walk away, her chin held slightly higher and fingers slowly relaxing from clenching. Her step was slower after, a little strain evident.

Interesting.

Killian suggested they eat when she returned to him, his mood suddenly soured as she waved goodbye to the band and the man she had danced with disappeared back into the crowd.

At a concession cart, he bought her some fairy floss and himself a dark chocolate ice cream.

They sat on a bench, Emma greedily picking the candy floss from its cone, bare feet swinging like they itched to be back on the earth. The princess hadn't said much since the man had groped far too low for her comfort. The Darkness made its tentative play.

"So, how many suitors did you have?" he asked, ignoring the beginning of his ice cream’s melted trail down his fingers. “I mean, before all this…” He made a gesture with his hand.

Emma looked at him doe-eyed.

"Suitors?" she laughed incredulously, head turned to the side. "None, I am not even allowed to be courted by anyone, let alone having -"

"So they don't just pair you off with someone in the court like you're chattel any longer?" He grinned when her lips thinned and her eyes slit into a glare.

"No." She looked down at the giant colored monstrosity in her hands. "I don't suppose they do. If I'm honest… I'm glad for it. My experiences thus far with men have been…" She trailed off, picking at the fluff.

“I suppose I don’t see why your charming parents didn’t marry you off to some honor bound Lordling then. Let him get you with child. It would have sorted this mess right out.” He crossed his legs, looking up at the flowering bushes around them. Emma picked at the fluff further, refusing to look anywhere else.

“They want me - they wanted me to marry for love. Like they did. Just not until I was ready, until I was safe. Although people say their marriage was a matter of ending the war or joining the realms, they loved each other first. They want… wanted that for me. Just without the constant threat of danger.”

“Want,” he gritted out on a laugh. The Darkness backed down, and Killian felt the tension within himself ease up . “They’ll be alright, Princess.” She pushed her hair back, and nodded without looking up. He was surprised at his desire to soothe her, but that impulse faded as the Darkness pushed back again.

Don't give her sympathy. You owe her nothing; she should feel guilty. Soothing her? You're a pathetic, hapless, meager imbecile - she deserves the pain!

The breeze blew through where they sat, and neither spoke for some time. He broke the silence with quiet bitterness in his tone. “They most likely would have killed your husband anyway, I suppose. Goblins don’t really care about sacrament or love.”

“I am sorry, truly. I -” She met his eyes, and he could see the sincerity. The Darkness in him wriggled under his skin and he looked away from her. “I don’t have words to say how truly sorry I am. You and Elsa both deserved happiness.” He felt his shoulders tighten, his body going taut. A warm hand touched his forearm, and he looked up to meet her eyes, the light of the summer sun making them viridescent. “You still deserve happiness. Dark One or not.” Sincerity underlined every word she spoke.

The Darkness under his skin shrieked, repeating its song.

You are nothing, nothing, you deserve nothing, to be pulled into nothingness. You will never find happiness, you will live an eternity of nothing!

Her thumb stroked gently, leaving the tiniest smear of pink from her sweet treat on his shirt. Everything was quiet except for the breeze, the birds around them, and the far off chatter of others in the park. He took a bite of his ice cream and she smiled thinly, pulling away and crossing her legs underneath her body.

"If I could change what happened, if I could have stopped all of this, I would have done everything in my power. I'm sorry the war ruined so many lives. I'm sorry I didn't know," Emma whispered quietly, the paper cone in her hands picked clean.

He felt his lips upturn slightly, the ghost of a smile starting as they sat in the sun. The Darkness was quiet, outmaneuvered by the princess' unexpected kindness.

“It's really beautiful here. It's so much more vibrant than the palace, and I feel so much more…” The sun started to set, thick swirls of pink and purple melting into orange lined with gold in the sky as she searched for the right word.

“Free,” Killian finished.

The Darkness laughed inside his mind.

She looked up at him, her head cocked. “Yes. Free. I feel free.”

The wind caught her hair and dress, making her laugh brightly. For him, it was a moment of strange lucidity and brought her into sharp focus: gentle curves, the soft Cupid's bow of her lips stained by sugar, long eyelashes that lay above blushing cheeks. The sea was a ways off, but he could smell the salty spray mixing with the warmed sugar.

“What would you do if you were king, Killian?” Emma asked softly, distracted, as her mind drifted no doubt to where her family lay.

He did not need to pause or think, the Darkness rising up to strike as he responded. “I would get revenge on everyone who ever crossed me.”

Despite how roughly his voice came out, Emma didn't flinch, only turned to stare back at him - through him, really - in a way that made him feel small. Even the Darkness squirmed under her scrutiny, as if she could see the half truth there, the fear that drove this vessel, and how much omission lay in that vast fracture.

Emma touched his hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze, looking at him again with those eyes that saw far too much. “And after that?”

Killian swallowed hard, unable to find words.

“Do you think… Do you think it gets easier over time, or harder?” she continued. “Do you think you learn how to stop feeling anything when you learn of atrocities, of people left behind, of people forgotten, of the hurt and of the people who set out to hurt you? How do you ever reconcile it all? Because I can’t - I can’t - ” Emma stood, taking a deep breath and walking stiffly to throw the fairy floss cone away. When she returned, the smile was back and firmly in place.

“Are you alright, love?”

She nodded, and he waited for her retort on his pet name. The desire to push her simmered to a boil, and he pressed her again.

"To answer your question: you don't forget. Actions have consequences, regardless of if they are necessary or of whether they look good on paper. Regardless of how you push them away by hiding in your palace, you don't forget or reconcile.” Abruptly, his understanding evaporated as the Darkness seized control once more. “Is the real world outside of your fairytale not living up to expectations, darling? A bit too much? Hm, love?" His tone turned mocking in its faux concern, but she only stiffened further, her fists balling and then unclenching as she let out a breath.

When no retort came as a response to his provocation, he threw his melted ice cream away, their silence in view of the sun’s last rays following them home.

Emma retreated to her room immediately upon their return, brushing past Elsa and Anna on her way up the stairs. Anna followed shortly after, calling her name, while Elsa just rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at Killian.

“What, did you make her cry again?” she asked sarcastically.

“I may have.” Killian grinned, stretching to look up the stairs, Anna staring back while giving him an angry glare. “She deserved it though if I did. She asked the most bloody ridiculous questions before we left -”

Ingrid’s voice came from behind them, icy and unamused. “Like what?”

Elsa froze, but Killian chuckled lightly. “Are you going to lecture me if I tell you, Ingrid?”

Ingrid stepped closer, standing toe to toe with him, a clear challenge in her stature. “No. I wouldn’t waste my breath if I had to lecture you after I specifically asked you to act with some humanity for a few hours. I’d expect you would know what bad form was without needing a lecture. So, what did she say to you?”

Killian’s jaw muscles clenched, and the two glared at one another. He scrubbed a hand over his face, letting it rest between them in the air as he started talking. “She asked me what I would do if I were king, and I told her I’d get my revenge on anyone who ever crossed me and the Darkness. She asked what I’d do after and when I didn’t answer, she asked if it gets easier for things. I didn’t answer that, so she walked off.”

“If what gets easier?” Elsa asked, no longer amused.

“I don’t bloody know, tons of things, the whiny brat.” Killian shrugged.

“What exactly did she ask, Killian?” Ingrid repeated, her low voice like gravel against glass.

“She asked if it gets easier or harder to rule when you lose people, and if you learn to stop having emotion about it. Then she kept saying, ‘I can’t do this!’ and walked away after I asked if this was not up to her expectations. What was I supposed to say, that like her magical fairytale castle life, it will be easy again? Let her suffer for a while. Let her feel the vice grip of reality.”

“You foul, rude, son of a bitch. What would your brother say?” Ingrid hissed, pushing past him to run up the stairs, the door of Emma’s room slamming shut behind her.

Elsa sat on the staircase in shock at Ingrid’s rebuke. Killian only grimaced and chuckled darkly. “Well, that’s an interesting way to thank me for keeping her out of your hair all day. What would Liam say? Probably that she should grow up, or that she sent him to his death.”

“Do you really have nothing else you’d do as a king but seek revenge?” Elsa asked quietly.

“Oh, come on now, love. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous. Do you know how hard it was for me when I didn’t know if Liam was dead or alive? When we didn’t know if anyone survived at all besides us? With death you can at least gain closure. I waited for decades for our family, for Liam, for you without this hatred -”

Killian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s not hatred. I tolerate the princess because I have to. Make no mistake, though, I’m not making these ‘fun’ little day trips and tolerating this cohabitation by any sort of choice.”

“It’s a choice to blame her for Milah, who I haven’t seen you mourn or mention besides to compare to Liam and I. Like we weren’t anywhere as devoted to each other. Like I should want you to rip Emma apart, just because she can get you this built up idea of your revenge -”

“You don’t understand - the war is her fault, her family's fault. Without the war, we'd have - "

"Killian, I can't imagine how different our lives would be, but that's not what happened. We reacted to a war, we all tried to survive and help others to survive - The Goblins did something terrible because they believed they could, that they deserved to have that right of dominion because women were lesser, because power and blood magic was more important. How is that Emma's fault? What happened to you?"

"Her family kept me rotting for centuries, Elsa! Milah and I had enchanted ink in our tattoos, a parting token when the Royal family sent Liam and I to the front. It let us hear the other's heartbeat as a steady rhythm when we were apart, her at home and I at sea. When they took her, that was the only thing - that was the only way I measured time in my days waiting in that cell, until I found that I could make the tiny portals to you and Ingrid. The heart on my arm grew slower until the day she died, when it turned black. I refused to believe it, to give her up, to admit that she… I lost myself in rage. I took it out on you, and on anybody who had more freedom than I. I thought we could save her. If I'm honest, I suppose I've known she was gone for centuries, known that crocodile-skinned rapist killed her while royalty locked me away so I couldn't do anything. I just couldn't…”

“It's fine to grieve, Killian. I still grieve, for Liam and his future, for our future. Revenge after this much time though? And revenge on them? No one could get to the Goblins’ realm; that was the purpose of locking them there, so they could not get out. The princess does not deserve to be a pawn in your scheme - ”

“You’re only a pawn if you don’t know you’re being used," Killian hissed at her. Elsa's eyes widened as he smiled maliciously."And you - you will never know how it feels to be so powerful and yet so helpless. Liam died almost instantly, and do you know how I know? Because I killed him. Milah took years to die, years I could have saved her, years where she was alive. I'd have gone to hell and back knowing she was waiting. Instead I was imprisoned there like some sick form of insurance for the royal family for centuries. You still have a school girl crush on the ghost of the man who didn't marry you after, what, eight months?”

Elsa didn't say anything, opening her mouth but not making noise as her eyes filled with anger. He realized his overstep too late, Elsa's head shaking in what looked like shame or pity. Pushing past him, he caught her wrist.

“Elsa, I'm sorry, I didn't think before I spoke and the Dar-”

“The Darkness is not you, Killian Jones. You have drilled that into our minds, and we… It wasn't only you who lost someone. We lost our parents, our brother, your parents, Uncle Nemo… Olaf was just a child, a child who had no idea what was happening. I lost a brother too, you know. We even lost you! I forgave you for what happened to Liam. I forgave you because you said it wasn't you, begged me to understand that you would never. Do you know how much I wanted you to be wrong? You were in love with Milah for longer, and she was alive longer. I understand that. But I still know he meant it when he said he loved me. I still love him and miss him every day. When I'm ready, I'll move on, but…” Elsa took a heavy breath that shook, “Reminders like this set me back, and I haven't found anyone remotely as wonderful as him.”

“I -”

They were startled when they heard Ingrid and Anna leaving Emma’s room, each heading to their own chambers as Elsa climbed the stairs.

“That was the end of our conversation. Good night, Dark One, if that is truly what still remains.”

Elsa entered her room, her door closing with a click, ignoring Killian as he whispered curses to himself. The whispers almost sounded like a conversation, two voices overlapping, hatred in each one. In a shifting mass of black he was gone, the hallway empty and quiet except for the ticking of a clock.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma let herself slide down her own door, ashamed of her eavesdropping, ashamed of too many things she could not control. Angry at the events of the day, angry at whatever it was - Dark One or man - that toyed with them like a bored housecat. And if it wasn't his presence, it was hers causing distress.

How was she supposed to save her kingdom, her parents, everything she cared about, when her presence only brought chaos?

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Elsa struggled to sleep after she fought with Killian, deciding instead to get a head start on the day's baking. She was often the earliest up of the three, starting her days on only a few hours of sleep.

She was surprised to hear a soft singing voice in the bakery and the sounds of a working kitchen. Poking her head inside, Elsa watched with awe as Emma baked with masterful efficiency and flitted around cutting shapes or pulling pans out to replace another.

The door squeaked slightly, Elsa and Emma meeting eyes.

"Um… Hi, and good morning - " Emma yawned.

Elsa pointed around before talking again. "You actually did all this?"

"I - Yes. I couldn't sleep, and my tutors always drilled into me that if I was going to do something, I should do it well and learn it fast. Moving around, keeping busy, it's all I know. It keeps my worst thoughts at bay, and I think clearer. I've also had several cups of your coffee, which is wonderful by the way. This isn't much different than my calisthenics or arithmetic after learning your measurements. I did experiment a bit with some of the recipes, adding ingredients while using the alchemical method of like things in small batches. I made an amazing tea cake of honey, some of the mint from the tea I recommended, rose, and lavender, if you'd like to try it, oh and - "

"You're… You're actually smart."

Emma hesitated, nervous and uneasy around Elsa. “Well. In some ways, yes. I'm well educated about my realm and its many subjects. Here, I'm nothing but some hapless - ”

“Emma.” Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose, then shook her head as she scooped up Emma's hands in her own pale palms. “The Killian I knew would never have called you spoiled or hapless. I shouldn't have called you spoiled or hapless. I'm sorry, and I beg your forgiveness. The things I said were terrible and out of anger, but Killian… The thing inside of him, controlling him, it's not what was - is - underneath. It's scared of you.”

Scoffing, Emma laughed, trying to pull away. “Oh, don't tease -”

“If there is still the man I knew under what he has become, he is lucky to have someone as clever as you in his care.”

"Thank you?"

"No, enough of that. I was a… I was awful to you and I don't need thanks for telling you what's true. We're family, and disagreements happen. I want to throw Anna three times a day, it's just what we do."

"Yes, it's wonderful to watch. I grew up very alone. That's why…" Emma trailed off, biting her lip.

"Tell me. You aren't alone now, alright?"

"That's why I… um. That's why I spoke to Liam's portrait. He kept me company."

"Ah."

Silence filled the bakery for a long stretching moment, Elsa looking down at her hands.

"I suppose, if there ever was a person to haunt people, it would not only be a Jones man, but Liam specifically. He couldn't go two feet without questioning someone's choices, or chasing them down to force them to be better. He expected perfection without sacrificing humanity and goodness. You'd hear his praises of 'good form' all over their ships, with Killian repeating it." Elsa looked lost in thought, smiling wistfully.

"To the ladies of the court it was a joke, they'd yell it down on the beaches at each other while wrapping a kerchief around their eyes, and we'd all echo it back for them to find. The Brothers Jones of Blackwater found it funny. Or Liam did at least. Killian may have been a bit sore, I suppose, but Liam joined us to play, which made it funnier. I always hoped Liam would find me; that was my secret fantasy.” She sighed, closing her eyes as if to savor the memory, then laughed lightly. “He never did. Always ended up with someone else, and I resigned myself. I was always shy outside of our kingdom, and kept to the gaggle of girls I grew up with.

"Killian struck up conversation with us first, because Ingrid helped tend to his mother before she passed, and our father and the Lord of Blackwater traded before the Lord abandoned his station to avoid war. Anna and Killian got along well, and then Anna, Milah, and Killian, and I all became friends. Liam always stood awkwardly and stared at me, just clammed up, and I was nice to him but he fled from me as if I offended him by my presence." Emma laughed with her, surprised to hear she had been shy, but more surprised by the cadence of her voice talking about Liam.

Rolling her eyes and using her hands, she continued. "Killian went on and on about his brother's love of debate, politics, theatre, the sciences… most of all, their mutual love of the sea and their keep. All things I adored, and what drew me to Liam at our primary sessions in the courts."

"Primary sessions?" Asking quietly, Emma looked at Elsa with confusion.

"Oh yes, we all, as in all the Fae nobility, used to take primary sessions of basic courtly education in the summers so the Lords could meet. It wasn't as segregated then, at least for the children and women. The ladies of the court had no roles in most things outside of the household, so they made good with those who lived nearby, were well titled, or were especially interesting."

Emma wrinkled her nose. "Oh."

Elsa straightened, explaining with precision. "It was before the population decline and finding the fundamentals of time and dimensional energies, creation of the pocket realms was just an idea back then. That changed so much, and truly allowed many more women to rule, lessening disputes about purity of lineage. Ironically, the best contributions to the Fae are exactly what sparked the war."

"Yes, I just... I never knew that world."

"I did. It was wonderful, while it was. It just took so much…" Elsa trailed off, until Emma touched her elbow gently, bring her back to the present with a question.

"You said Liam loved debates?"

"Oh, yes - Killian told me all these things and he just idolized his brother, who hated me. Would be around anyone else but me. So, I iced him out, and iced them all out in the process. By the time they realized something was wrong, Killian and Milah were done with their poor job of hiding their relationship from everyone, and I guess they realized that Liam was an absolute ass around me. It seems to be a Jones men trait.

"So one day, Liam stomps over to me as I sewed in our courtyard, and hands me a pair of gloves. Beautiful, soft suede leather, dyed blue. Periwinkle. My favorite. He grumbled something about meeting all of them back at the beach. So I met him and a few others, wearing the gloves, and we played a round of that silly game. Liam found me right away, and stayed by me the entire night. I was beyond confused and thought it was a joke, or a lost bet they put him up to."

"He kept asking if I was cold, because I was crossing my arms, and I finally yelled at him: 'The cold doesn't bother me, anyway!' It was time to end whatever this thing was. Liam sputtered out something akin to “You bloody Ice Queen!”, which had my sister, Killian, and Milah angry, and eventually the lumbering fool came to find me crying at the docks.

"He refused to leave, and told me that I'd trounced him soundly as a school girl, and he was terrified of me because he thought I was lovely and brilliant. He would have chosen me during that good form game, but could only see skirts and fingertips, and was unable to find mine before being mobbed. He liked the subjects I liked, and begged for tutoring in them on top of his rigorous Naval training. Killian had guessed, and hatched a plan with Anna, and then Milah, to push us together - but Liam had blundered every task horribly out of nerves.

"We admitted our feelings that night after pining for years. Only a few months later, whispers of war started. He bought a ring immediately, and told me it was insurance so he'd always make it back to me, jokingly begging me to wait for him to get back before running off with another suitor. It became a jest in his letters to me, and we'd count the days in our signatures. ‘Waited 32 days for your return. Waited 56 days for your return. Waited 110 days for your return.’

"Then it happened. The war hit a fever pitch with the Goblins capture of Fae women at a courtier function. Anna and I were there when the attack happened, but Milah was taken, our world was plunged into chaos, the Darkness destroyed the navy in one swoop. Suddenly, everyone was dying; we were fleeing, and my family was separated, but Ingrid refused to let us stop running until we were safe. We were never safe, so we never stopped. We didn't find out everyone's fate until we realized that there were no Fae besides us in most places. We returned home, but the changes were… There was nothing salvageable that wasn't subsequently destroyed by the shifting realms. So we took the gold we had, settled down here in Nemo’s summer home, and finally mourned. Put up pictures when we were able. Drew and painted what we needed to remember. Grew things. Learned how this new world works.

"Liam never returned, and we only heard of Killian’s betrayal after he visited us and told us of his imprisonment."

"How could he visit you? He had nothing there, and that cell was enchanted -"

"He was never able to truly leave that cell, but occasionally could make a portal big enough for us to speak through. Almost like a magic mirror. He was broken by losing Liam, desperate for news of Milah, and angrier than we'd ever seen him. Manic even. Lost and torn apart by that thing possessing him. Killian finally told me what he had done after he learned of Milah’s marriage, screamed his part in Liam's death at me because I couldn't help free his stolen love. We didn't speak again until years later, hundreds of years to him."

"Slowly, we grieved together again. The Darkness has so much control, but when he fights it, or it quiets, you can tell. There is a man still in there, a good man. The Killian I know, my only living brother, he is in there. Learn to read him, Emma. It may serve your cleverness yet."

"Elsa, I - "

"Save it, especially if it is any sort of apology. I… I'm tired." She wiped tears from her eyes, smudging trails of them off of her face. "I just… did you make pie today? I really need some pie. Or chocolate cake."

"Or? That is not the Elsa spirit I heard about! And!"

"And? Emma, what are you - "

"Pie and cake."

"Oh. Oh, Emma. I did mention you were terribly clever, did I not?" Elsa giggled, and Emma allowed herself a rarely held sly smile.

"If you'd like to mention it again, I'm certain it will not hurt."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The Palace, Great Hall

Nil sat at the head of a long table with his father, Goblins on either side of them like some bastardized version of a royal feast. Carcasses of animals and Anisapi alike graced the long oak boards, with food ladled sloppily as the horde ate their fill. Various Fae struggled in their leg shackles to haul trays of potatoes and broken gnawed bones, their bodies aching for rest.

The large doors opened with a splintery creak, an axe that had been lodged in the jamb clattering to the stone floor. Pann stood in the dim shadow that was cast, straightening himself and gathering his nerve.

"Come forward, Pann." Nil gestured toward him, grinning. "Don't be scared now, or shy. Come, come! We're feasting." He gestured to the various meats laid out, Pann's blood going cold as he looked at what once was a female Satyr, now picked clean to just past the ribcage. Large wings and haunches rested on other platters, Goblins chewing and slurping loudly.

"I find I have no appetite, M'lord, but instead bring grand news." Pann smiled his reedy grin, the Goblin King waving a hand with a grunt at him.

"Whatever you want, my son. Just get the dagger piece; I'm tired of having to try to parlay with the dwarves. Their tribal names are as stupid as they are." He took a large swig of wine, splashing some on the Fae woman behind him. Pann shifted uncomfortably at the thought of either of them being with a woman, let alone a wife.

"What is this good news then? Have you found my betrothed?" Nil asked excitedly. When Pann nodded, the prince practically bounced in his chair. "Finally, I'd begun to think I’d never own her -"

"We have set a trap for them, baiting the Dark One with a contact I now control. Tink Rebel, a siren from near the Blackwater. She played her part beautifully."

"I don't care, tell me specifically how you'll catch my wife, how does she fit into your plans!" Nil raged, slamming aside glasses. His eyes bulged, a vein in his forehead visible even under scales. Pann took a calming breath.

"Not only will I capture her and the shard, M'lord," The Goblin King's eyes slid to look at the satyr, while Nil let his fingernails dig into the table in a long gash, but Pann continued faster, "I will give her to you completely docile and under your control."

Nil laughed, staring at Pann incredulously. "Impossible. You cannot tame that dragon bitch. I am glad you joined us, are you sure you’re not hungry?" Clapping his hands, Nil smiled a dangerous smirk as a great swath of Fae struggled to carry out a platter, still sizzling with crackling fat. Pann swallowed down his revulsion as the once great body of the King of the Anisapi lay before him, the great forest boar Heston reduced to being served with a watermelon in his maw instead of an apple.

"I swear it, I swear I can get her to break. I have a hiding place, a place I keep my… Human, Fae, and Anisapi menagerie. A discotheque club in the old realm. I make a potion that keeps them young and compliant, even the Fae. I have hundreds of them in my fairy circle, and they don't even know - "

Nil's eyes lit up. "You're luring them to Never-Wonder Land? Even I know of its debauchery."

"You and I know. The Dark One has no idea; he's missed every secret deal and smuggling scam while under lock and key. And the Princess? She is so sheltered I know she'll fall." Pann flashed a smile and after a moment, Nil and the Goblin King returned their own relaxed grins. "Your queen will drink some Ambrosia pollen and Nostras water, then listen to and obey every command you ask of her, like your own personal pet, in no time."

Nil gave a cry of glee, laughing as he ripped off a chunk of meat with his fork, happily tearing at it with his sharp teeth.

The Goblin King raised his glass, and lazily licked his lips with his viper tongue. "Begone now, Anisapi."

Pann practically ran from the room, his own magic wavering for a moment before his portal appeared. He landed in Greece, adjusting his glamor to fit his human disguise, leisure suit zipped halfway up as he stalked inside his club. No music was on in the warehouse space, but bodies writhed to invisible songs while his golden nectar flowed freely.

Yes, this was his home, and with luck he would escape the Fae political world all together with Nil as his ally. Now, it all rested on Princess Emma, the Dark One, and if they could survive Never-Wonder Land.

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astoria00 · 6 years

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Salem and Cinder's connection is deeper than we think

So, in another post I talked about the possibility of Salem having shared some of her magic with Cinder to keep her alive. Now, I don't want to entirely debunk my other theory, but maybe what Salem shared with Cinder wasn't so much her magic, but a part of her aura/soul. And having a part of someone who is literally immortal attached to them...tends to keep one alive as well.

The show even offers us possible facts that could strengthen this theory. So for the sake of this argument I will go through them chronologically, starting by vol 3 episode 7, our very first Cinder flashback episode.

Besides Cinder's semblance (yes, I still attribute those explosions to her semblance), which resembles Salem's own signil eerily enough on certain occasions and which she could use way before obtaining the Fall Maiden's power, there is a short little dialogue I want to point out:

“The huntsman severed the connection before it was complete.

Yes...it's an emptiness. It burns...like hunger... I like it.

Yes...I will claim what is ours.

Thank you.“

That whole scene was, of course, a black screen scene and for a while I had just assumed Cinder would talk to Salem via a scroll or this seer grimm, but let's be real. Salem doesn't strike me as someone who owns a scroll and Cinder was definitely not talking to Watts or Tyrian here. A seer grimm might be possible, but...it depends on where Cinder was staying at that time and how many of these type of grimm Salem even has. So yes, it's still possible for this to be a one-sided phone call of sorts, but it could also be our first clue for Cinder's and Salem's connection. This whole conversation could have been telepathic...in a sense.

But let's look at another scene. In vol 3 episode 10, we see Emerald, Mercury and Cinder on the rooftop with the latter telling Mercury to focus on the Atleasian knights. When he states he will, Cinder adds this little tidbit.

“Good, continue the broadcast until the end.

(Ground/rooftop shaking)

And do not miss what happens next.“

This is of course referring to the giant grimm dragon breaking from the mountain. Now, Salem could have told Cinder about it and how to get it to emerge, but this shaking could have been anything really. Maybe one of the elephant grimm trampled over a house and it crashed into another, or an explosion caused a little quake in its aftermath. So Cinder knowing exactly what the shaking meant was pretty...specific and well timed.

But it gets even more interesting in vol 3 episode 12 when the grimm dragon first lands on Beacon tower:

“Shh...this is your home now.“

Now, first of all, the dragon seems to know exactly where it has to go. It could be beacuse Salem ordered it to...but why would it look so grimmly at Cinder then, when he first spots her? Why would Cinder need to calm it down? And more importantly, Cinder CAN calm it down! Sure, she could have just said it because she felt like it, or she thought it could help, but the dragon literally reacted to her words, its growl even softened somewhat. And who else have we seen talking to grimm like this? Salem!

So what does all of this have to do with Cinder and Salem's soulbound connection? Well...let's first try to find out HOW they talk to grimm.

In all honesty, I haven't seen other people in Remnant who attempted to talk to grimm, nor were they mentioned (well maybe Merlot did, but we're not counting him XD). And how would they even understand one? They are soulless creatures, but...they are drawn to negative emotions. Which means they have a 'higher' empathic sense of sorts. We also know they are somewhat intelligent. So maybe Salem is able to communicate with them via that sense. Yes, we have seen her directly talk to some of them, but talking helps us visualize or feel certain things, so this might have been for her own or Cinder's benefit. And we should also keep in mind that the seer grimm gave his report...via his clicking noises...so...the trick behind that 'language' could be interpreting certain feelings and pictures that are send via that sense.

We haven't seen Ozpin being able to do the same, so it could be an ability Salem aquired after jumping into the fountain of the god of darkness.

Now, if Cinder is being able to communicate with grimm as well and Salem is the only other being in Remnant who is known to have this ability, it certainly could allude that it got shared when Salem attached a part of her soul to Cinder.

Also, if we look further at her fight with Pyrrha, the grimm dragon tries to help her somewhat and not once did Cinder look surprised by that. Not when it suddwnly flew away, nor when it changed its course to speed up back at them to crash into the dome of the tower.

So why did I talk about how communication with a grimm might work? Because I believe Cinder and Salem to be able to communicate on the same level, via that empathic sense.

But let's take a look at vol 4 where we actually see both of them interacting.

We have vol 4 episode 3 where Salem gives Cinder a 'control your new arm' lesson. What exactly is she saying there again?

“Do you feel it?

Don't fight it, girl.

It can sense your trepidation.

You must make it dread you!“

Trepidation...alright... How do you know that, Salem? Cinder doesn't look frightened at that scene at all, a bit uncomfortable and probably in pain, but I wouldn't have said she was afraid. So not only 'it' was able to sense Cinder's trepidation, Salem could as well it seemed. And if we watch a bit longer we get the whole :

“Did you kill Ozpin?“

A question Cinder has to answer all by herself, even though she clearly can't really talk at the moment. And why was that important for Salem? Because Cinder literally wouldn't be able to lie to Salem's face if they're in fact connected like this and it would also explain why Salem looked so pleased after she gets her answer. She doesn't question it, she simply believes her when she says yes. Furthermore, there is this moment where Salem raises her voice and slams her hands on the table...but Cinder doesn't even flinch, as if she already felt something like this would happen.

Speaking about lies. In vol 4 episode 11 we have another instance of...interesting phrasing from Salem:

“Enough!

I thought you were the girl that wanted power.

Did you lie to me?

Then stop holding back!“

Stop holding back? Well, to me it certainly looked like Cinder gave it her all, no holding back, just being tired because she clearly pushed herself very hard, so I ask again...how did Salem know that? She would only be able to make that point if she either already witnessed Cinder handling her powers and knows she can do better, which didn't seem to be the case with how frustrated Cinder got at the end, or like with her trepidation in ep 3, Salem was just able to feel it. Something else that stood out to me in that scene was Cinder's reaction to Salem's: Did you lie to me? She flinches. Not when Salem says it's 'Enough', not when she throws Cinder's desire for power back at her, no, she flinches when she is accused of lying. And if we go with their connection theory...she literally wouldn't be able to pull that off, because Salem would know it immediately...somewhat like a lie detector. So Salem asking her this, was kinda a dig at her that she couldn't.

If we keep focusing on Cinder here when Tyrian comes back and begs for forgiveness, she only looks at him for maybe a split second, before her attention is solely on Salem again. And Cinder seems to look almost uneasy....lost of sorts? But why would she? Tyrian is the one getting focused on by Salem for now. He is the one in trouble. So could it be, that Cinder actually picks up on Salem's 'emotions' again, as she may have in ep 3? If they do have this bond, then it probably goes both ways. So Cinder might get some puzzling or worrisome readings from Salem in that scene, and we know from vol 6 just how much Salem can repress her anger...well until she doesn't, but still XD

Another scene that might strengthen this theory happens in vol 5 episode 2, when Lionheart tells his report to Salem. After she gives her orders to all of them and ends the 'call' she immediately looks over to Cinder, as if she knows right away that something is troubling her.

“You are free to speak your mind.“

She even sounds somewhat amused and as we have already seen, this isn't the first time Salem is awefully intuned to Cinder's feelings.

There are a few other small things that I have found throughout the series, but these are the most interesting ones I think, so let me talk about how I even got this idea in the first place and let's jump straight into vol 6 now.

After we got our first episode with Cinder it was clear that she had woken up a month after the attack at Haven. And she immediately seemed to know what to do. Sure, a lot of people were saying she couldn't very well go back to Salem empty handed, and although I'm not really agreeing with that, even if that is the truth, what stops Cinder to contact Hazel and get where Ruby and co. are from him? Or Emerald and Mercury? What stops her from reaching out to them? Her scroll seems to work just fine. Is she aware of Salem wanting her to “toil in her isolation“?

When we got episode 4, Salem is indeed aware of Cinder being alive. A lot of people seem to believe the reason for that is Cinder's grimm arm. Personally I don't agree with that. Yes, Salem is the master of all grimm and can control them, but firstly, we don't know how much at once and at what length she can do that. Secondly, she probably is not able to connect to a soulless creature, not even mentioning having the ability to keep tabs on them. 'Talking' and controlling them? Sure. But being outright able to feel when one of them evaporates? That would mean she would be able to keep tabs on all the grimm over the world...and I don't think that's the case.

So Salem attaching a part of her own aura/soul to the girl she definitely needs to survive against all odds and keep somewhat control over her, does sound plausible to me. It would certainly explain her leniency towards the Fall Maiden and why she is not even questioning her loyalty once. It is hard to betray someone who you're directly tied to after all.

But then again, that's just me theorizing again. I could be proven wrong next episode, but hey, analyzing these things is fun XD

#cinder fall #rwby spoilers #rwby theories #salem rwby #rwby volume 6 spoilers #just my theories #i need a new au for this #salem's one scary mom xd #that's some way to monitor your fire daughter xd #team firefly

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alka-di-kijarr · 3 years

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Hunters Journey - 013

Disclaimer. The following part of the hunters journey was connected to my #CallOfThePharah on deviantArt in april2020. English is still not my native language, but I wish you a lot of fun reading the next adventure of Nero, Vaas and all the other hunters.

Flowki species is a closed species. If you want to get your own, please contact me.

The winner of this design - and so the new owner is - Katja060902

Hunters Journey - 013

[...] It had been months since the attack of the black creatures and the chaos they brought into the headquarters of the BlackBestia-Hunting Guild, yet Nero still hadn't found back to his calm and relaxed mind. He had been searching for all kinds of information that could maybe, just maybe, give him an idea of what these creatures were made of, or where they came from.

He took a deep breath, leaning back in the chair of the library, that he was nearly inhabiting more than his own room. His wounds and scars still put him in front of challenges every day, but it became better with every week. And with each session Nero had taken at the hospital corridor, together with doctor Uruben. The doc was another souvenir that came together with Tahorn and the other knights of the guilds crown.

Seth had ordered assistance, but ever since they arrived, the entire HQ had fallen into a really grumpy mood. Everyone was on the edge, especially the higher ranked people. The closer you would come to Seth, leader of the BBHQ, the worse it got. Nero was neither old enough, nor long enough part of the guild, as that he would understand the chemistry between Seth and Tahorn. But whenever he tried to get into the office of Seth and Tahorn was already there, his assistance lady shoo'ed him away quickly. More of a worried look on her face than anything else.

The young man had accepted his fate and started to dig deeper into all kinds of books and talked to all kinds of people, trying to collect useable information. Nearly laying in the chair, rather than sitting, his view was fixated on the glassy roof of the library. The stars and the two moons shared a place on the gigantic dark tent, watching down on him. If they could, would they laugh at him? About his attempts to help out in his own way? He was not as experienced as the others and his wounds and scars made a lot of problems during the training times.

Vaas, who came back from the last hunt at the night of the invasion, was already back in shape and seemed even more amused about the current events than before. Amusement and sarcastic comments were a facade Nero knew all too well. It was his way to compensate the stress and somehow deal with the feelings inside him. But Nero was a different type of person. The only thing that could ease the tension in his mind and lift his heart, was pure and logical progress. He needed results.

Grumbling, Nero nearly jumped of the chair, took his notebook and stomped in the direction of the gardens. He needed to speak to Seth, right now. There was no option like 'hiding everything from everyone' and 'playing save for no matter of cost'. So many of his friends were scared, traumatized, most of the day anxious. It could not continue like this. Anger arose in his chest and Nero felt the spiking pain in his forehead. A well-known pain, since the day of the invasion. He couldn't tell if he had been hit too hard on the head, or what might be the true reason behind the needles that tortured him, but whenever he faced the accumulated anger and frustration in his mind, the pain followed swiftly.

Nero opened the glass door and took the path between a field of blooming flowers, heading into the direction of Seths building. The night was cold, but no wind was singing and no animal made a noise. The young men looked around, his gaze finding the habitat of Gemini. The poor hydra. Poor and brave hydra. Would Lauriel be there? Should he go and pay her a visit before he would stomp in Seths door, probably kicking it out of its angles, according to the feeling in his chest? He sighed. Probably he should do so.

Slowly changing his direction, Nero followed a path between white, yellow and purple flowers and blooming shrubs. The air was filled with their scent and somehow Nero felt an ease, while walking between them, making sure to not step onto those, which grew up on the stone plates. He reached the fence of Geminis Habitat and looked around.

A door swung open and a woman with blonde hair, tied to a wonderful herringbone-braid, stepped outside. She saw Nero, waved into his direction and said something like 'give me a minute'. As Nero could see, she pushed a wheelbarrow across the area. Probably the late-night dinner for Gemini. Nero remembered that she had said something about Hydras preferring to eat in the night, when everything was calm and less distracting. He just could try to imagine what sleeping schedule Lauriel would have now. But he wasn't any better, he had to admit. And so he waited patiently, until the Hydra was munching with relish, and the young woman walked over to his place.

"You can come in, you know that, right?" Despite the late hour Lauriel seemed awake and happy. The contrary picture of himself.

"Yes, yes, I know. I was on the way to Seth. Just wanted to come over and say hello before." The young lady leaned her head to the side, a knowing and teasing smile on her lips.

"You seem incredibly angry, Mister I-am-always-relaxed." Nero rose his eyebrows, the hands holding on the poles of the fences, his face leaned against them.

"Is it that obvious?" Lauriel snorted and laughed, while Nero couldn't hide his frustration about him being an open book to her.

"I would say, you are neither alone with your feelings, nor is it the case that I wouldn't understand you. Anything you found that might be useful?"

Now it was his time to snort and sigh.

"Nothing after all. No matter where I search or who I a-" Nero turned around, being convinced that something had touched his back, but when his view scanned the surrounding area, there was nothing.

"Everything alright?"

"Y-yes, I guess so."

The young huntress stepped aside and tried to see for herself what had caused his abrupt reaction, but the only thing she could see, was the field of flowers, trees, stone ways, the fountain and far behind the other buildings of the HQ.

"What did you want to say, Nero?" she asked, her view not letting go of the area behind him.

Nero opened the mouth to talk, but a piercing feeling stroke into his back, forcing him to turn around faster and with pulled sword.

"What the hell..." Nero could hear how Lauriel picked up something behind him, pressing her body against the fence.

"I assume you are not seeing anything, do you?"

"Nothing, no." He felt how her hand stroke his back, searching for something that might cause the sudden touch and pain.

"Look at us. We are so much on the edge, that we assume something might be here, and arm up, before we even check if it could be something in my jacket." He laughed, a bit too nervous. Nero could feel the vibration, as something from behind was coming closer.

Gemini, without a sound, stood up and approached the scenery. Lauriel greeted him silently, but the fact that Gemini came to see for himself what happened, was sign enough for Nero, that he was not turning insane - and there truly was something behind him!

Now that the giant hydra was close to them, Nero could feel the massive, powerful aura this majestic creature was surrounded by. It felt as if it was so dense, that it pushed away everything that couldn't stand him. Smaller animals always made space when Gemini walked around, and now he could feel why.

"What do you think, what shall we do? Shall we call out an emergenc-" Lauriels eyes were wide open when she placed her hand on his mouth, staring into the darkness, which was only enlightened by flame bowls and torches in the garden.

"By the gods..."Nero freed his face from her hand and watched to the point she was staring at. Gemini behind him growled deeply and threatening.

A creature, half the body made out of mass, half the body vanishing in darkness, stood as close as ten meters. It had a horn, glowing in a reddish-purple and its body was covered in flowers, white and shining like the moon. But the most intimidating thing was its skeleton, which they could see shimmering under its skin.

It tilted its fox-like face and Nero was not sure which emotion he should see or sense, coming from the creature. It came closer, but Gemini was waiting, positioning his body shortly behind Lauriel, while she took the chance to calm the smallest of the heads, which was still growing back. The small head was the result of the invasion-fight and ever since Lauriel had grieved over the loss of Ertije - the small pea, and cared even more for the new head arising on his place.

Gemini bends his heads over the fence, sniffing the air, while the unknown creature stepped closer. It seemed curious. His body was now fully visible, revealing a bunch of flower petals, forming something similar to a kitsune tail Nero knew from books. The two creatures investigated each other, without touching, but the closer the fox-thing came, the dizzier Nero felt. His heart started to jump irregular and he felt, as if his mind got wrapped in clouds.

"Nero?" He felt her hand touching his shoulder, but her voice seemed too far away. More than just the poles of the fence was dividing them now.

"NERO!" He heard her call, but his body didn't react. Everything was in slow motion, while the two golden eyes of the creature in front of him, stared right into his own.

Geminis main head started to growl louder and deeper, before the other heads joined in. Their roar arose and the flower-creature broke its gaze on Nero, relieving him from its chains. Nero gasped for air, the moment a door got kicked open and Vaas stormed into the garden.

"By the gods, what's happening here? What is-?!" His view found the intruder and another few men reached the place. Gemini released a mighty roar, nearly sounding like a "GO!" and the flower-thingy turned for good, vanishing completely in the midst of nothing.

What got left behind, was a young huntress, with a racing heart, a young hunter still gasping for air, while holding his chest in confusion and several other hunters - in their pyjamas, armed up with weapons and fighting boots.

#story time #hunters #journey #story idea #story writing #writer #fantasy art #fantasy creature #kitsune #flowki #worldbuilding

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