#please leave me alone scary horse lady

[readychilledwine]

Headcanons on taking each High Lord in their beast form?

I'm sweating.

✨️High Lord Monsterfucking Headcanons✨️

Warnings- monsterfucking, beast forms, primal instincts, breeding references, mentions of knotting, implied size kink just on subject matter alone, primal play, biting scratching, marking, mating marks, picture references from Bad Dragon, unrealistic smut, dr. jekyll and mr. hyde type situations

A/n - This one might get me in trouble. A lot of thought went into this. We're going with a partial shift situation. Ignore the colors of things. Think of them as whatever color you want then to be.

Please remember, not all kinks are for everyone. If this one isn't yours, there is plenty of smut on my masterlist 💕

Rhysand

I firmly believe Rhysand would have a primal play kink regardless of if he's in his beastform, but mentally prepare yourself for bruises, scratching, and biting

Rhysand is typically a gentle but passionate lover, his beast is not. His beast has one goal: breed.

You aren't going to walk for a while. That's the reality. Sorry.

When picking for Rhysand, I was kind of drawn to the idea that he wouldn't have an overly scary monster cock, but it's very thick and heavy

It's going to touch places science doesn't have a name for yet. Once you relax, it's nothing but pleasure

I decided with all the animals Tamlin's shifted form looks like, he gets to have a horse like cock

Tamlin

I feel like sex in his beastform is something Tamlin is fan of.

Or at least, he'll shift part of himself to his beast form.

The interesting thing with Tamlin is he can shift his cock to whatever you'd desire. Fire drake, tentacle, normal but enhanced girth. Whatever you need to feel good, Tamlin will provide

He'd be down to shift his cock to every fantasy or based on your mood as well

What I'm getting at is sex with Tamlin is rarely not in some form of a beast form.

I am a firm believer in the form we've been told about not being Tam's true beastform, though.

I imagine sex with him in that form is delightfully dangerous for those of you who want to live on the edge.

Neck held between his teeth, plants holding you exactly where his beast wants you. I don't see Tamlin's beast being gentle in any way, shape, or form.

I firmly believe Tamlin isn't really all that into the idea of kids at the moment, and I think due to how often Tamlin shifts, he has control over that side of him and it's aware. So. No breeding kink here.

I almost went with Tarquin's beast form being a kraken. I landed on a leviathan instead. This was a missed tentacle opportunity. Sorry.

Tarquin

I couldn't help but to think "coral" with the texture of this, and that made me go "Tarquin"

I imagine Tarquin as a gentle and giving lover, regardless of form.

You'll still get primal play, but imagine deep growls of satisfaction versus dominance.

Tarquin is going to leave you covered in love marks and reminders when he is in this form.

Tarquin is all about breeding. His beast is going to pump you full and keep you full until it decides otherwise

Yea, I gave him a slightly scary one.

Helion

It's because I feel like Helion would find the idea of knotting delicious, but more easing into it instead hurting you.

Helion in his fae form is adventurous, but I think his beast is more straight to it. Hard, rough, and demanding.

The male knocked up Lady Autumn on accident. You'll be on purpose. He's knotting you and forcing you to lay there, exhausted, overstimulated, and whimpering until his knot deflates.

He will shift back after that and give you the best aftercare.

Helion has bit your neck and forever marked you as his. When his beast sees that mark, it's almost as if he purrs while he's affectionately licking what is his

I feel like Beron in his fae and beast form is a flip of a coin. If you're obedient and submissive, he's a generous lover. If you're not, well, expect to just be his playtoy.

Beron

Which, don't get me wrong, if you're into used and abused, let me introduce you to the High Lord of Autumn

Beron's beast form is straight up feral. Snarling, growling, biting, scratching. I'd recommend visiting a healer for a good healing Potion.

Beron clearly has a breeding kink. His beast form is no exception.

You need to be prepared to spend hours cockwarming his beast because he's not going to let you move for a while. That seed is too precious to waste.

His beast form cock is intimidating. Mainly due to the head.

Lots of prep going into him taking you like this. He may be cruel, but he has no interest in damaging his favorite part of you.

I'll be honest, I don't see Thesan as the type to enjoy monsterfucking.

Thesan

I see Thesan as a sweet bottom starfish who just wants to relax and have someone else do the work.

You can ride, maybe? How ambitious are you? Very? That's good. This dick tapers

You think it will be easy the first time since the tip and top of his shaft are slimmer. Hit the middle and get back to me

I loved the idea of his cock having bumps along the sides. Extra stimulation for you, and in my mind, extra sensitive for him.

I don't even really see Thesan as a power bottom. People normally like the opposite roles they present to the public during sex. I feel Thesan, even in his beast form, feels that way as well.

He's more than happy to lie back, watching you please yourself using him, watching you take things your pace.

Don't sleep on this male. I keep tell you all.

Kallias

Knotting. Knotting. Knitting.

All the time. Expect it when you are enjoying his beast.

He got Viv pregnant fast for a reason, so I hope you like Littles.

I wanted something smooth for Kal with the logic that their beast forms are supposed to be the physical representations of their powers. Smooth and cool like ice is what I was picturing, and this fit the bill

Still slightly ridged for your pleasure, but mostly a smooth ride to absolute bliss.

I imagine Kal can play with his body temperature. Making this colder at will for some interesting temperature play

I do see him as valuing intimacy and romance more than pleasure. With who he is at his core, I imagine his beast is about foreplay and aftercare.

There's a misconception that gentle sex is boring (thanks porn) and Kal is proof that is wrong. Very very wrong.

Yes, he will growl, bite you if asked, and run his claws down your back, but those harsher touches are followed by his snoot buried in your neck and hair, his tongue flicking a sensitive area of your choice, and purring. Comforting purring.

Kal's slow when he has you take his knot. He works it in inch by tantalizing inch until you are drooling below him.

That's his favorite sight in the world. You in a state of total Euphoria.

Tag List not attached to respect that this isn't everyone's cup of tea 💕

[herbatalover]

Could I request something with Charles? Perhaps male reader is too shy cause why would big handsome Charles ever want with them? Or something like that? Feeling extra insecure today myself lol

Again, I'm really sorry it took so long. I got problems with notifications, but here is something I came up with! I hope you'll like it

★★★★★

Charles x m!reader

It was pathetic. You were pathetic and you knew it.

You were sitting by the campfire, staring at it blankly. Most people already went off to sleep, leaving you alone with his thoughts and a drink in his hand. Sad, sure, but what else can you do when you got a hopeless crush on someone out of your league? Not only that, but on someone who's the same gender?

Now, you see, most people in the camp didn't have a problem with someone being queer. Hell, with Bill Williamson being one there was no chance for any mean comments (Micah being an exception, but I don't think we're surprised).

But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the crush was Charles Smith himself. And as sweet and nice as he was, you couldn't risk possibly hinting at it and getting shot down. Mostly because he was too dear for you to see the awkwardness or disgust on his face. Or maybe it was the fact you were afraid he'd laugh at your face, or worse, get mad.

In the corner of your eye, you saw someone sitting down next to you. You turn your head there, noticing Bill, having his own drink. He took a swig, then looked at you.

"Tough night?"

"Tough few months..." You sigh. The man was looking at you quietly, then chuckled.

"You're sweet on someone"

"Excuse me?" You turn to him, surprised. He wasn't good at reading people, you know that. So the thought your crush was so visible sent you into slight panic.

"You're sweet on someone. I'm not surprised, many folks are fond of the ladies" He shrugged. You were staring at him quietly, then turned back to the fire as he started guessing who might it be.

"Is is Karen? She's attractive, even I know this. Tilly maybe? Or Sadie? Sadie is a hard fork partner, you'll wantnto be careful with-"

"It's a man" you muttered under your breath. You thought it was barely above a whisper, but the way he went awfully quiet made your head turned away. He likes men, you knew this, but it still felt like something to be ashamed of.

"... A man?" He repeated. You just shook your head.

"No, you overhead"

"I'm dumb L/N, but I'm not deaf" he rolled his eyes. You turn to him quietly. The shame must've been visible in your eyes, because his looks immediately softened when he looked at you. Or maybe it was pity?

"Forget it. Please"

"Y/N" he sighed. "You can trust me. Look, I might not be the best listener, but this is one topic I know how to help with"

You just look down in to your hands. The thought of letting it out, talking it through with someone seemed nice. But scary as well.

"Who is it?"

You held your breath. There it was, the question that could set you free or bring all hell upon you. You tried to come up with something, an excuse, anything. But then came a moment of braveness. So...

"It's Charles"

"Charles?!" Bill spat his drink out, coughing surprised. You shushed him quickly, not wanting anyone else to hear.

"Shut up!!"

"Sorry, sorry-" he cleared his throat, calming down. "It's just... I already expected Arthur-"

"Arthur's nice, but he's more of a brother to me" you sigh. He nodded slowly.

"... Do you want to tell him?"

"God no-" you shook your head. "he'll just reject me"

"Why do you think so?"

"Why do you not?? He obviously likes women!"

"Oh please! If anything, he loves animals over life" he muttered, waiving his hand and turned to you. "Give it a go, trust me. I... Spoke with him"

You went quiet.

You had to know everything.

"You spoke?? When?? Why?? What about?? Anything about me?? Did he-"

"Jesus, hold your horses partner!" Bill raised his hands. "Yesterday. He had to get something of his chest. He might... Like you too"

All the world started spinning around you. Charles Smith himself might like you. That's all you ever dreamed of. Bil chuckled "So I'd say, go an tell him! You might be surprised"

"...and what if he doesn't like me?"

"Doesn't like you? Oh, well then screw him! There are other guys and gals better than him!" But there wasn't. He was the best one. Yet you still smiled at Bill's attempts to make you feel better.

"Thank you" you nodded. "You really helped"

"Yea, well... When you live being sweet on someone, you learn such things towards others"

You blinked surprised, opening your mouth, ready to ask about it, he already got up, walking off.

"Goodnight Y/N"

"... Goodnight Bill"

★★★★★

You woke up early, ready to make it happen. You'll ask Charles out. Were you terrified? Absolutely. But you were also confident. After last night talk with Bill, you got tot thinking. And you figured, if he does reject you, you'll just make it look like you got shot accidentally on the next mission. No embarrassment if you don't see him again, right?

Either way, either social death or literal death. Both felt almost the same.

You walk out of your tent, going to the campfire to grab some food. You're soar and tired, but it'll go away. You stop when Charles called your name. You turn to him, the familiar nervousness, rush of heart and cold sweat appearing. You smile at him. "Yes?"

"We need to talk" he said, face serious, eyes cold.

And just like that all the confidence, all the energy boost, all the braveness went to hell. Your plan didn't exist anymore. You simply panicked.

Why does he want to talk to you? Did you do something? Your mind quickly rushed through all the possibilities. No, you don't think so... Maybe Bill talked with him, and how he doesn't want to do anything with you? That's high possibility.

Or what if Micah overheard you? Oh, then you'd be dead in everyone's eyes.

Your breathing quickened, chest squeezed, vision becoming blurry. Every bad scenario that could possibly happen was playing through your head.

But then you took a deep breath. Grounding yourself, remembering that nothing happened yet. He just needed to talk. You don't know about what. It might be both good and bad. You just had to stay calm.

Yet you were fucking scared.

★★†★★

You were waiting at the spot you were supposed to meet with Charles. It was further away from the camp, which again striked up the nervousness in you. But maybe it's not that bad. Maybe it's just something he's shy about and only trusts you to tell you about it? So you waited.

You waited a long time. What if it was just to humiliate you? In a second Sean and Javier will jump out from behind the trees, laughing at you. Yet nothing happened. So you waited.

Then came a spark of hope. Maybe he was nervous too? Maybe he did like you and decided to ask you out? He was naturally a shy man, yet you knew he could have a... Wild side. But it made you excited. Brought back the confidence in you. So you waited.

Soon enough, you heard footsteps. You turned there, noticing Charles coming.

"I'm sorry it took so long, Reverend didn't want me to get past without listening to his ballad about whiskey" he sighed as you chuckled.

"Not a problem. You wanted to talk?"

"Talk? Ah, yes..." He nodded. He seems nervous. Score.

"I... Actually wanted to talk about us"

That was enough. Before he could say anything else, you grabbed his collar, pulling down and just kissed him.

His lips were soft, surprisingly well taken care of. They were warm and you could still taste Pearson's stew on them and some morning coffee. But non of those bothered you, not even a bit.

Charles tensed up, surprised, yet raised his hands, placing them on your cheeks. And when you thought he'd kiss back, he softly pushed you away.

And there it is again, that horrible feeling like you'd be about to faint. You looked at him, panicking. Vision blurry again. But then he said something that surprised you.

"I wanted to do it first" he muttered, chuckling awkwardly. You blinked, calming down, then smiling softly. As sweet as always. "But I wanted to tell you about it first"

"Oh- I'm sorry!" You chuckled, embarrassed. You went too quick. But he didn't seem mad, at thankfully.

He then took your hands in his, walking closer to you, looking into your eyes.

"Y/N... You're an amazing man with a sweet soul and a great heart. I've liked you for as long as I remember, and I wanted to thank you for being with me this whole time. But I don't think friends are something I can stand any longer. I want to be something better. Someone more important"

Now, as much as it was sweet, it was greatly surprising. Charles rarely talked about his feelings, let alone people he's sweet on. So... You felt honoured. And touched.

No wonder it took for him so long to come. He was stressed. Maybe even as much as you. Or more.

No, he'd be dead if it was more.

He then pulled you into a warm hug. Holding you close, nuzzling to you.

"Will you go out with me?"

You honestly felt like you could fly. Years of dreaming and begging faith for one chance... And you got it. Now you'll be damned if you screw this up. The plan with "accidentally getting shot" wouldn't sound so bad then.

But you smiled as you looked up to him.

"Gladly"

[definitely-not-an-alb]

I think the best thing about TMA for me until now is that it’s the first time I’ve actually gotten into one of those unspoilable fandoms myself. Like that’s the main reason I started it, people kept reblogging stuff about it onto my dash and I was always like ‘??? this makes NO SENSE but it sounds rad and like ya’ll are having FUN and I appreciate that’.

LIke I’m generally the kind of person who does not give a single fuck about spoilers, in fact, I appreciate spoilers. Like I don’t care about A:EG AT ALL right now, and I’ll actually write to a friend who saw it today and ask her to spoil it so that I can have like, emotions about this and enjoy watching it once I get my hands on it. And I only ever got into Hannibal because I read a misfiled fic that spoiled me for every single plot twist of the show. There’s some fandoms I’ve never consumed any canon of, I just exist on the branches of them, consuming fancontent and getting the same kind of enjoyment out of them as out of my main fandoms. So I’m a weirdo and I start 90% of my fandoms because someone ‘spoils’ me for them. 

So not only do I Not Get Spoilerculture, it’s actively detrimental to my enjoyment of media.

But. There’s those fandoms. The ones that make no goddamn sense. I love them.

The SCP-Foundation was prolly the first time I experienced this with, but that one has the added bonus of literally never stopping it’s bullshit. Like you can’t get ‘into’ it, I feel like, it’s too much content, and to disjointed. There’s no canon, there’s not even several main narratives, it’s just An Organically Grown Purposeful Mess hive-minding it’s way, and on top of that it has like seventhousand different internal (some defunct now) subcultures and occasionally you find a relict from the 4chan days (the true horror of the archives). It’s a mess, I’ll never understand it’s writhing, weird mass and I love it.

Homestuck. I have no fucking clue what the fuck Homestuck is (a comic? a webseries? an eldritch abomination beaming content into it’s follower’s brains?) or what it’s about and there seems to be like 100 years worth of canon and it’s own language and logic and I have no intention of ever reading it, because otherwise I might understand the nonsense that crosses my dash and where would be the fun in that. Please, for the love of god, don’t explain homestuck to me, because that’s literally the only way you could make it boring to me.

Animorphs, is kind of the same, though I might actually read it at some point. With that one it’s more like ‘I know the themes, but I can’t name a single character or plot event and I have no idea what those words mean, I only understand the abstract interpretion at the end of your essay’. It’s fuckign great. Please don’t explain Animorphs to me.

And gonna be honest, TMA is kind of like that. Like I’ve seen stuff about it, and I mean text posts and character studies and explenations of plot points ffs, cross my dash for month now, and I’ve read them. And they sound rad but I honestly don’t understand a word? And that’s great!

It’s like, I see the words and I see the letters and they make sense individually, but then I read, and they do not make sense together. I should know what this means, but I do not. But it’s also not nothing, it’s not meaningless babble; it’s something, and there are people, somewhere, who know how to understand this, somehow.

I’m at around episode 40 now, and it’s like, with the very first episode, i picked up this threat and started unraveling it. With every episode, those jumbled words look more and more like the stories and explanations I know them to be. And it’s exilerating, way more then it is scary, to reach out into that darkness and grasp that line of explanation and follow it, episode by episode. I don’t know any of the deep lore yet, but I’ll get there. Let me know, let me be part of this shared hallucination that is Fandom.

Old Wierd Fiction, your Lovecraft and whatnot, always had this problem, I think, that the people writing the stories wouldn’t have picked up the threat. Their horror is less of the things out there, and more of watching their friends pick up the threat, watching them start unraveling it and wandering away from them. They, the writers, and you, the reader, they assure you, are not like that. They are Sensible, the Right Kind of People, who wouldn’t do this out of their free will. They only come into contact with the strange and dangerous through accident, or the choice of others (misguided idiots). They’d never pick up the book, never read the words they can’t understand, never talk to those people (the Wrong Kind of People). They don’t listen to the sounds in the darkness, they don’t find the other half of those barely eligible notes, they don’t ask the people talking weirdly like that and they mind their own, respectable business. They wouldn’t do this, they are the sensible ones, right?

I’ve never been very good at being the Right Kind of People, not in who I am, and not in who I am, and I have very little aspiration, if any, to be. And I think I’m not a very Sensible Person either.

I’m not stupid, of course, I wouldn’t open the obviously creepy door and wouldn’t touch the definitely cursed amulet and wouldn’t read the barely legible, antique book I found that says ‘Here Be Demons’ in Latin.

But I am, in the end, not very sensible. I lay awake at night not saying ‘that was just my birds.’ but ‘Was that my birds?’. I name the things in my nightmares (what a stupid thing to do, don’t.). I go digging for the rest of what those people are talking about, those barely legible posts on a website.

And in the end, this is save, right? It’s just fiction. There’s worse ways to fill this want-to-know-want-to-dream-awake-want-want, like a cult or something, right? It’s a podcast, some transcripts - I can always stop listening.

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

The Wolf & The Hound

Sandor Clegane (The Hound) x Fem!Reader (4 Chapters)

Work Summary: You are the Handmaid to Sansa Stark, knowing her since you were children and (amazingly) surviving right alongside her. Until she flees King’s Landing. When you reunite in Winterfell years later, you’re excited to get your long-lost friend back. And a surprise in the form of Sandor Clegane - AKA The Hound. He’s not as scary as you remember, in fact you’re intrigued by him. But you think he may be interested in the new Queen of the North. Does your growing crush have a chance or do you step aside in case it means your friend’s happiness?

Requested by @imagine-the-fanfics​​

Notes: Because the pairing involves The Hound, I am putting an explicit language warning on this. Yes, I use curse words a lot and never tagged before. But the Hound loves the C-word. Now this word doesn’t bother me, but I know it can bother others. I also won’t make him say it as often as he does in the books/show. ​

Chapter 1: Little Wolf

Summary: After all the wars have been won, you are just trying to find your way home.

You slowly rode up the road towards your old home, cautious of any straggler Lannister soldiers that may be hiding on the King’s Road. The war in the south may be over, but there was no guarantee that the news would quickly travel to the far-off camps.

The only protection you had, wasn’t much of a fighter.

“Are you doing alright, my lady? Should we stop to rest?”

“I am fine, Ser Davos, but thank you for checking.”

The Onion Knight didn’t fully believe you, but he was never one to pressure you or anyone to do things they didn’t want. The two of you continued to ride as the day dragged on, getting closer and closer to the Neck.

By the time you found a place to camp, you were sore from the saddle and in desperate need of food. Maybe you should have taken up the offer for a break earlier in the day. But the sooner you got home the safer you would feel. You helped Ser Davos set up by prepping the food while he set up the bedrolls. As you ate, you tried to decide who would take the first watch. Davos never liked the idea of you being up alone, but he couldn’t stay up for days on end.

“We are almost in the North, Ser Davos. The North Remembers the Stark name. We will be fine soon enough.”

“Forgive me, my lady, but I have seen what the North will truly do when afraid. How they turned their backs on the Stark name not once but twice since joining Jon Snow. I will not feel you are safe until you have returned to Winterfell.”

“I can take the first watch.”

Both of you turned at the sound of a familiar voice coming from the woods. Two riders came up and your jaw dropped in shock. Was that Arya Stark?

“Lady Stark? Is that you?”

“I’m not a lady,” she replied automatically. Then she really took a look at you. “____? Is that really you?”

Before you could confirm or deny who you were, Arya had leaped off the horse and ran straight at you. She tackled you around the waist and you saw that she hadn’t grown much taller than you last saw her, but she was far stronger. And was she wearing a sword?

“My lady, it’s so good to see you again,” you breathed against her crushing hug.

“Please, I’m not a lady. Just call me Arya.” She let go of you and walked back over to her horse and companion.

Upon a second look, you could see it was the Hound! Wasn’t he loyal to the Lannisters? Sure, you had heard rumors of him leaving during the Battle of Black Water Bay, but you had never thought it to be true.

As the two tied up their horses by yours, Ser Davos greeted the pair. “Glad to see you survived the encounter with your brother.”

The Hound spared a glance in your direction before sitting across the fire and grunted. “Almost didn’t. Fucker was hard to kill.”

Ser Davos knew The Hound? There was clearly a lot that had happened since you had been able to flee King’s Landing a few years back. Arya took a seat between you and Sandor, helping herself to some of the food.

“So where have you been hiding all this time?” Arya slurped the soup.

You realized she was talking to you and all eyes focusing on your made your stomach churn. “I, uh, it’s a long story. One I do not wish to relive at the moment.”

“Leave her be. There will be plenty of time to get the story when we’re not about to freeze our balls off,” the Hound grunted.

“Since when do you care about other people’s feelings?”

“I don’t. But you’ll bother her and I’ll have to hear her whinging.”

“Whatever. So who’s got first watch?”

Ser Davos cleared his throat. “I can do it.”

Arya looked up from her soup. “You sure?”

“Aye. My lady and I are used to taking turns and I usually go first.”

“Well,” the Hound set down his bowl, “you won’t have to worry tonight. Arya and I will take turns as well.”

You wanted to argue that you were capable of taking a turn, but the Hound had always scared you in some way. Ever since he stepped foot in Winterfell seven years ago. So instead, you ate your soup in silence. Davos noticed but was smart enough to not bring it up. That was one of the things you liked about your traveling companion: his ability to read your silent cues.

As the sun disappeared - leaving only the campfire to light the way - you tried to make yourself comfortable on your bedroll. Ser Davos sat close to you, his good hand on the hilt of his sword as he looked out over the woods. Arya had her bedroom on the opposite side of the fire and Sandor in between you and her. All four rolls forming a circle around the fire, trying to stay as close as possible since winter had finally arrived.

The night was quiet at first, minus the snoring of your companions. You could never fall asleep right away, no matter how long the ride that day had been. Davos had noticed after the third day and asked about it. But all you would say was it was a survival technique you learned in King’s Landing. He didn’t ask again.

Davos’ eyes occasionally landed on you, seeing if you were still awake. It was the same routine every night: he’d take the first shift, it would take you at least two hours to fall asleep, and he would occasionally look at you to make sure you were ok. It had become comforting. As if your father was watching over you again.

He was about to ask if you were ever going to fall asleep - the same teasing every night - when the sound of a twig snapping caught your attention. You instantly sat up and grabbed the dagger you kept in your saddlebag. It had served well to protect you up until Davos had crossed your path.

“Steady, my lady. It could be just a lost rabbit.”

“Or a lion,” the dagger was heavy in your hand. You had only used it once and the images still haunted you.

Footsteps followed the twig snapping and now you were on one knee, ready to protect yourself if necessary. Davos drew his sword as he hissed at your new companions.

“Arya, Clegane. We might have company.”

The two were up so quickly, you wondered if they had even been asleep in the first place. The footsteps became louder and even seemed to multiply. You now had your back against the fire as you faced outward just like the rest of your companions. The first person to break through the treeline was in front of you and he was a Lannister soldier.

“Well, well. What do we have here?”

Your grip on your dagger tightened as the man walked closer to you. Davos held up his sword. “That’s close enough. How can we help you?”

More footsteps and soon your little group was surrounded by a small squad of Lannister soldiers. At least 6 from what you could see. The Hound grunted.

“Is this all you got?”

The first man chuckled. “If it isn’t Joffrey’s dog. A shame he’s dead now. We just come by to share your fire and women.”

“They’re not for sharing,” Sandor growled and then gestured at Ayra, “especially that one. She’ll cut off your balls before you even blink.”

“The war’s over,” Davos cut in. “You have a new Targaryen queen. Best be on your way to bend the knee.”

The first soldier scoffed. “I’ll never bend the knee to some dragon bitch. Now, about your girls.”

“Try it,” Arya threatened.

It all happened in a blur. The soldiers clearly had nothing left to lose or forgot how deadly Sandor could be. What surprised you was how deadly Arya had become. She was a blur of deadly moves.

One tried to come at you and you met him with your dagger, but your dance was nowhere as beautiful as Arya’s. He tossed you into a tree, making your vision slightly blurry when you made contact. But you recovered quickly enough to stick the dagger in his neck when he lunged at you.

“Seven hells, ___! Are you ok?!” Arya rushed over to you.

You pushed the body off of you and tried to wipe the blood from your cheek, “I think so.”

Sandor came up and grabbed your chin to examine you and it was the first time you had looked directly into his face. The scars that had once scared you as a young woman no longer seemed as bad and it looked like there was true concern behind his eyes.

“He didn’t leave a mark from what I can tell,” he let go of your face and glanced at the dead soldier before looking back at you. “You’re more deadly than you look, Little Wolf.”

Chapter 2

[cescapist]

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

“That’s a rather tricky one, isn’t it? I don’t think I have only one important event. Life is more like a number of important events stacking upon one another, isn’t it? I suppose the most important things so far have been… Birth, obviously. Then… the first time I rode a horse alone. This was before I had Clever, so I rode father’s horse out along the main road towards Norington and ended up going through fields on a public bridleway. I’d never felt quite so at peace or free before that. After that I reckon it was when I… no, before that it was friends leaving. And Zachariah. For Oxford, you know. I never wanted to be an Oxford man, in as much as I never wanted to study, but I did envy them that experience. And I’m not so little a man that I cannot admit my regrets and weaknesses. 

“After that it would be deciding to study engineering. And then to this date… you know, I think the Viscount’s death has had quite a large influence. Not directly on me, but on my surroundings. A lot is happening, now. I may be a little short-sighted, but I’m not blind to that.”

Who has had the most influence on you?

“... The first person that comes to mind is mother, actually. I think because she is the one who has wanted to influence me more than any others, heh. The number of times she took a plimsoll to me… You know, I think that to this day she is the only one who can truly get me to at least try to behave myself.”

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

“Making people laugh. Always, it’s making people laugh. Even if they are crying, I can usually get a wet chuckle. I reckon that makes me useful, you know?”

What is your greatest regret?

“These sorts of questions might put a man in an awfully melancholy mood. You ought to be careful asking them…”

“...”

“... If I must answer, it is… being as I am. Not being the studious type. Never going off to read books at some university. Letting- Letting people down.”

“Please don’t repeat that to anyone, though. I don’t want anyone to know or worry.”

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

“What did I just say about these types of questions? God, I don’t know, I’ve done plenty of evil things in my life. Once I stole Father Lancashure’s vestments and dressed them on a goat before leading it into the church to give a sermon. That’s quite evil, isn’t it? And once I drank some holy water from the font and it made me feel sick - though it didn’t burn, so I am not completely the little hellion my governesses made me out to be!”

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

“As a boy a local officer once took me back to Fairford by the ear after I broke a window in the lifehouse. It was an accident! But the glass got in the lifeboat, and there had to be quite the cleanup, or so I hear. But that’s not a recordable offence, or anything.”

When was the time you were the most frightened?

“Frightened? I- …I think it was when mummy was ill, once. She got a horrid fever, very ill. Father wouldn’t let us - the children - see her. He thought we could get ill ourselves. She made these utterly dreadful wailing sounds… I was terrified she would die. Absolutely terrified. And then if she died, what about father? And what about us? Very scary time. She recovered, of course, but I think the three days when she was truly at her worst were the only times I have truly prayed.”

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

“Oh, a much lighter topic, I see! Christ, where to start. I was slapped before a whole music hall for upsetting a lady. I fell from Clever when she was still young and had to limp back home plastered in mud, before. I’m very good at misunderstanding matters of the heart - my own as well as others’ - and have put my foot in my mouth more times than I can count. The uh… the Housekeeper now at Clevedon once caught me sans-trou in the farm’s barn. That was the worst, I think.”

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

“I’d have been better at replying to correspondence.”

What is your best memory?

“Taking an evening with our Groom, riding Clever over to the west, past town, up the hill, and watching the sunset. I got quite drunk, but it was lovely. A gorgeous summer eve. Everything was right in the world.”

What is your worst memory?

“Not ending on a nice note, today, are we? I don’t know. I don’t hang on to bad memories. They serve no purpose.”

[theravencawsatmidnight]

blue bird anon: Can I request prince! Hawks and reader in fairy tales au/ fantasy au? Thank you~~

This is alot longer than i intended i apologize i hope its ok!!!

Ruffled Feathers

Grandsby, a quiet small village just outside of the woods, was visited by traders, merchants and travelers looking who seeked shelter. It had everything you needed except a library. But it was home.

You lived with your father who was often out for work , he traveled selling things , he called them ‘useful trinkets that everyone needs!!’ But in reality they were just tools he did not have use for anymore. Every last moon of the month he returned home just to leave again in the morning. You missed him when he left, sure you had people to talk to and you borrowed books to read but every book started to feel the same and every person started to ask you the same question over and over.

‘When are you getting married?’

Of course everyone was looking out for you, they wanted the best. But your father liked having you home and not off tending to some man. But as soon as he left on his horse in the morning the village seemed to break out in song explaining why you should settle down.

“Its him!!”

“Hes here!?!?”

“Where?!?”

“How could you miss him?!?”

“Theres no man in town as admired as him!!!!”

You quickly bypassed the excited villagers slipping into the nearest store with a sigh.

“ ah, y/n. Lovely to see you. Goodmorning.”

You smiled at the voice, it was comforting.

“Hello Aizawa, good morning.”

“Hiding again?” He asked as he dusted his shelves.

“Was it that obvious? Do you have any new books for me?” You asked walking over.

Aizawa was a kind man, he mainly sold bread and knick knacks . But sometimes he would get in a couple books hidden away in his shipments just for you. He pat your head and sluggishly went behind his desk past a curtain.

“I have, but im not sure if its to scary for you.” He teased coming back through the curtain with a red book.

“If i can deal with fire boy out there i think incan handle it. How much?”

He laughed and patted your head again. “Free, my best customer.”

Quickly you put the book in your basket and gave the man a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, i can always count on you when Father is out. You are a great friend to him.”

“Oh thank you, now go go, and tell me what you think of that book. Its a true story, im told.”

His comment interested you , but everything Aizawa said had some kind of tale to it so eh.

*

The sun shined on your face once you got back outside , everything seemed quiet so maybe you could grab some freshly made muffins and go home. The little bakery was down the road a bit but the woman in charge was nice and enjoyed seeing you. She was a older woman with black hair and liked to be called Momo. She happily gave you some muffins and even gave you an extra one for your father when he returns.

Finally you could go home and read this book Aizawa was fawning over. On the way home you were reading it not paying attention to where you were going. And bumped right into him him.

“Y/n!!” He swiped the book from you

“Ugn..Dabi…may i have that back?”

“Why do you read such… flimsy things?!?” He held it upside down trying to read it.

You reached up trying to get it and he walked away still ‘reading’ . The villagers also saw their favorite man again.

“Dabi!!”

“Its him!!”

“You're everyone's favorite guy

Everyone's awed and inspired by you

And it's not very hard to see why!!!”

You rolled your eyes watching him stop to pose for the ladies .

“No ones as amazing as Dabi!!!”

“No one's slick as Dabi!!!”

“No one's quick as Dabi!!!”

He stepped onto a fruit stand to pose again , “No ones as loved as Dabi!!!!!” He said full of pride , he tossed your book and you ran catching it only for Dabi to wrap an arm around your waist pulling you to him and nuzzling your cheek.

“Y/n why do you like these things? You are so finicky.”

“Its something i enjoy. Dabi.” You wiggled free holding the book to your chest.

“What is it even about ?” He turned to pose for some ladies .

Glancing down you read the back. “A handsone man, cursed to live his life alone as a feathered monster in a cas-“

He took the book flipping the pages then looking at you. “Handsome?!? There's no pictures!!!”

You swiped it back placing it in your basket. “Im sure hes a lovely man. Unlike you.”

Dabi growled at the comment and hooked your waist again to steal a muffin from the basket.

“Hey!!?”

“Easy y/n. You might be married before you know it.” He took his leave .

“Hmph.” You scoffed at his words finally going home to read, looks like you were only having one muffin instead of two today.

Meanwhile, up in a tall tall castle a man was looking out the window out into the forest , his claws clicked and his wings ruffled in an angry way.

**

Father returned that night and you could not be happier to see him. Even Aizawa came by to say hello a d to see his friend for a minute. You told your father all about your days without him and the book Aixawa gave you. He loved that you liked to read, it kept you out of trouble. He did not like this Dabi person, he was not right for you..

Father stayed for a little like he always did and was off to the tavern with his friends into the late hours of the night. It was his usual routine, see you, the tavern then be off again at sunrise. Something felt wrong though, the wind was cold and you kept finding red feathers all over the village like the ones in your book.

Father left with his horse after saying goodbye to you. You stayed on the porch watching till he was no longer in sight. All you could do was go on with the day.

Around night time Fathers horse ran back into the village spooked and thrashing around. You ran over grabbing his reins and cooing slowly.

“Easy easy.. what happened to father?!?”

The horse neighed and seemed to be shaking.

“Father…?”

Dabi wandered over to you hooking your waist to him again. “Y/n, why so frantic ?”

“ father is .. i dont know ! He might be hurt!!! Dabi i dont know!!!”

“Sshh.. shhh…” he cupped your face bringing you too him. “Maybe hes.. ya know. But i could go find him, i am Dabi, after all. But i wont do it for free.”

“What? I have no money!!”

“No no.. i want to.. marry you.”

“Dabi thats not fair!!!” He let go to hold his arms out. “Lifes not fair.!! But that is my offer” he walked away swinging his hand.

**

You took off into the woods on your Fathers horse in the middle of the night . You had to find him yourself, if Dabi really did find him then…. no.. no.

Lightning struck over you spooking the horse lifting his front hooves knocking you into the snow running off.

“Hey!!!” You stood up clutching to your coat looking around.

Just endless snow and woods… and.. feathers..

You followed these bright red things to a castle pushing the gate open going in.

“Whos that?” A candle asked

“Not sure what do we do?” A teapot asked.

“We cant let..!!!” A clock began to say .

Heavy steps were heard coming down the stairs with very long wings dragging from behind. The objects backed away from this creature cowering.

When the door opened he stopped and saw you wander in closing it up behind you clutching your coat tight.

“Hello…?” You asked, going in further. “Please.. my father is lost in the woods.”

He tilted his head thinking back on the man who did the same thing you were doing. He stepped closer watching you stop and see him. You grabbed your coat and stared with big eyes.

He was.. the man from the book.. very tall, huge red wings.. blond curly hair , robes ., claws..

“You shouldn't be here…..”

**

@redflannel @babayaga67

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

Part II Wed By Candlelight (The Portrait of the Secret Bride)

Supercorp The Corpse Bride AU

Kara’s dreams that night are turbulent. She could attribute it to the fact that she’d had to endure dinner with Mon-El’s mother, but it’s far worse than any nightmare even Rhea could induce.

She dreams of her lady’s brother, returning home the prodigal son. But she knows of the atrocities Lex Luthor is said to have committed, of the wife and child he had left dead in his wake -- and Kara doesn’t want him anywhere near her lady. She can see the war Lena wages between her good judgment and her good heart, can see her vacillating between her love for her brother and her own instincts.

But Kara, who has no such attachment to him, sees how he brings nothing but discord and chaos into their lives. And she’s right.

Over dinner, he announces his plan to restore the Luthor name and fortune -- by promising Lena in marriage to his new business associate, a man named Morgan Edge.

It’s the first time she’s ever seen her lady truly angry. Lena’s fury emanates from her lithe frame in cold waves as she stands from the dinner table, straight-backed and proud, facing Lex with glacial eyes that burn with pent-up rage, before she throws her glass of wine in his face.

The second they’re locked in her room, Lena grasps Kara’s arms with desperate fingers. “We need to leave.”

“Lena--”

“I can’t stay here, Kara. Not like this. Not when he intends to shackle me to a man like Morgan Edge. I met him once, and that was enough. He’s a despicable cockroach of a man. I cannot stay here and marry him, Kara. I will not.”

Kara hears the steel in her lady’s voice, and loves her for it. She opens her arms and Lena melts into her, lips touching her throat, soft words murmured against her skin. “I won’t marry anyone but you.”

Kara huffs a small laugh against Lena’s hair. “Somehow I don’t think the Bishop will approve of that.”

“I don’t care. Hang the Bishop.” Lena smiles when Kara laughs again. She pulls away slightly, just enough for Kara to see the brilliant clarity in her eyes. “And hang the Luthors. Let them rot in this miserable place. We’ll leave them here. You and I can go somewhere we can be together.”

Kara’s heart pounds like a drum, and she takes one of Lena’s hands in hers. “You’d leave your family to be with me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Joy bubbles up in Kara’s chest, almost dispelling the heaviness that had settled there since hearing of Lex’s plans. “We could go to Kandor. My cousin lives there with his wife, they might have a place for us.”

Lena rests her temple against Kara’s, her lips brushing softly against her hair. “As long as I’m with you.”

Kara sighs, and the two of them stay that way for a long moment. It feels as if they are standing at a precipice, with the threat of Lena’s family surrounding them and the terrifying exhilaration of the unknown before them, freedom just within reach.

“I’ll leave for Kandor at dawn, to make sure Kal can make a place for us.” Kara brings Lena’s hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers in lieu of a ring. “I will come back for you, I promise.”

And Kara somehow, somehow, knows that this is the last night she will spend with Lena.

The dream shifts, and Kara finds herself in the dark of night, the wind whipping across her face. The horse she is riding on snorts in exertion as she urges the animal as fast as it can go.

There’s a fierce desperation in the way she grips the reins. She doesn’t know where she’s going, all she knows is that it’s a matter of life and death that she get there in time.

There’s a wound on her side that burns, but she just presses on it and keeps riding. Bruises have bloomed over her knuckles. Blood dripping from her eyebrow and an accompanying wave of dizziness tells her that she also has a head wound, but she grits her teeth and forces herself to stay on her seat. Nothing is more important than getting to her destination.

“Kara, we have to stop.” A man appears in her field of vision, riding alongside her. Something in her recognizes him as Kal, her cousin. “You’re bleeding too much.”

“No!” She protests violently, her voice breaking in the whipping wind “If Lex’s men found us, that means Lex knows that Lena and I were planning to run away. He’s going after her, Kal. We have to get to her first!”

She leans forward, urging her horse faster still.

Only, she never gets to her destination, because the dream shifts again, and this time, instead of a mount, Kara finds herself sitting at a desk, in a small, unfamiliar room.

Beside her, Kal’s son, Jon is sleeping peacefully in his cradle. On the table, at her elbow, is a solitary candle, its flickering flame casting a familiar thin light on Kara’s bowed form.

“Lena.” Her voice is little more than a whispered sob. The candlelight brings back too many bittersweet memories that make Kara’s heart ache and crumble, as if it’s dying a living death inside the cavity of her chest. “Lena…”

Kara swallows back a sob and wipes away the tears that blur her vision. She’s worked with less light before, she reminds herself, as she bends over the small locket, painstakingly recording every detail she can remember. She works ceaselessly and without the need for sleep, as if it were possible to bring her lady back to life with each brush stroke.

She knows -- She knows it’s impossible to bring her back. She knows it’s impossible to capture the warmth of her smile or the soft steel of her voice in a miniature portrait, she knows, but each brush stroke feels like a penance, a way to keep her alive.

When she’s finished, Kara seals it within the necklace. A secret only she knows.

This time, Kara all but forces herself awake.

She scrambles out of bed, nearly waking Mon-El in her haste. The floor is cold under her bare feet, but she doesn’t care. She scurries out of the room and down to the foyer where she’d left her coat.

Her hand plunges into the coat pocket and she triumphantly fishes out the antique necklace her mother had left her.

The exact same necklace in her dream.

Quickly, she retrieves a knife from the kitchen and pries it open as carefully as she can. It’s a painstaking process, trying not to damage a two hundred year old piece of jewelry, but finally, Kara’s efforts pay off.

The necklace opens to reveal the portrait Kara had seen in her dream -- a faithful likeness of Lena Luthor in miniature.

For the first time, it occurs to Kara that this is the only time she’s seen Lena outside of her dreams and their encounters. This solitary portrait is proof that Lena had lived. That she had been loved.

Kara’s breath leaves her in a rush, as she slowly realizes what this is.

A lover’s final gift, her penance, handed down her family for generations, from one bride to another, with the secret bride who never was inside.

She doesn’t quite know how she feels. It’s a lot to process, and it’s truthfully been a mad whirlwind of the past few days that barely seems real. She looks down at the locket in her hand. Lena’s face smiles up at her, the painting so devotedly true to her likeness, it almost feels like she’s alive.

Well, Kara thinks. If she’s doing this, she might as well go all in. They say every bride goes crazy before the wedding, after all.

Before she can talk herself out of it, Kara grabs her coat and shoves her feet into her boots. She spares a few seconds to root around for a flashlight in the hallway closet before setting out the door.

The air is chilly as she hurries along the familiar overgrown path. Somehow it’s less tranquil and more scary walking along the trail in the middle of the night, with the wind rustling through the trees and insects chirping.  The serenity she’d felt before is gone in the oppressive darkness. In the night, everything seems much more ominous, formless shadows flitting around her, the night sounds loud in her ears. The leaves crunching under her feet feel more ominous than comforting now, and Kara finds herself jumping at every sound.

She draws her coat tighter around herself as she nears the graveyard, her flashlight illuminating a narrow beam of light that plays menacingly over the tombstones.

“Lena? Are you there?”

Kara’s voice is a tentative whisper, and she feels stupid. It’s cold, it’s the middle of the night, and she’s in a graveyard, looking for a ghost. Her steps falter, and she sighs, rubbing her arms to stave off the cold. Maybe it’s time to go home.

She turns to leave, but a familiar voice wisps in the wind behind her, making her shiver.

“You came.”

Kara whirls around to see Lena’s pale form behind her. The eerie silver radiance of her skin in the darkness makes her look otherworldly. But the dark red stains on the white of her red seem unnervingly real. Like Kara could touch the mortal wound on her abdomen and still feel the pulsing of blood within.

It reminds Kara of why she’s here.

Her fingers close around the locket around her neck, and she steps forward, closer to Lena. “I did. I… I think I can help you, Lena. I think I know what happened all those years ago.”

“What?” Lena’s voice is thin and hesitant, as though she can scarcely believe Kara’s words. “How--?”

“I see it. In my head, in my dreams every night. I see you and Kara. I’ve seen the love you had for each other, and I’ve seen -- so many things, but I need your help. I don’t have the whole story, there’s a side of it that’s missing, and it’s you.”

“I - I don’t understand, Kara.”

“What do you remember from the night you died?”

“I - I don’t… I don’t remember. So much of it is a fog in my mind...” Lena turns away from Kara, her hands flying to her temples. “It’s been so long. I’ve been waiting so long…”

Kara clutches the locket around her neck. “You have to remember. Please, Lena, remember. Because I have pieces of the puzzle, but you have the key to it. Try, please…. Look, you said you were waiting for Kara. But were you alone?”

“I… I think so. I’ve been alone for so long…”

“What about that night? That night you died?” Kara presses on, her hands coming up, wanting to take Lena’s arms, but she knows that there’s no body there to touch, so she lowers her hand. “You said the place where you were waiting wasn’t a graveyard then. What was it?”

“I - no, it wasn’t, I --” Lena’s voice is becoming higher, panicked and confused. Her beautiful face is lost and frightened. “I don’t know!”

Kara knows she’s pushing too far, and her instinct to comfort and soothe comes to the fore. She reaches out to touch Lena, and before she can remember that Lena is dead -- has been dead for two hundred years -- her hand comes up to touch her shoulder.

She touches nothing, but for a second -- less than a heartbeat -- her fingers meet resistance at the curve of Lena’s shoulder when there should only be empty air.

In that instant, everything changes. A shock comes through the end of Kara’s fingertips, and all at once everything turns white.

As the light blinds her, Kara hears voices in her ear. “Lex is watching, and the trip to Kandor is five days long. I can’t risk you leaving until I know there’s a safe place for us there. I promise you, Lena, I will come back for you.”

An unfamiliar voice. This time, a woman’s. “Lex has informed me that Morgan Edge is arriving tomorrow. This wedding must proceed smoothly, Lena. This is what you and I have been working for your whole life. What have I always told you? Everything I do, I do for you and our family…. We are so close, my dear. Everything we have lost will be restored to us. The Luthor name shall be revered once more, and we can become a family again.”

When the blinding light fades, Kara finds herself in the same old room in Luthor Manor where she and Lena slept. Except the sanctity of the tiny dark room has been violated by another.

Lena is dressed in immaculate white lace, flowers at her breast and in her hair. She looks beautiful and terrible at the same time.

Lex has her by the arm, his face a cold snarl above her as he holds up one of the wine glasses from the dinner table. His hand is wrapped around Lena’s forearm, and Kara rushes forward to rip him off of her, but there’s no use. Her hand passes through Lex, and he continues to sneer menacingly at Lena.

“You’ve never been poisoned before, have you, little sister? Well, I have. Arsenic has a very mild odor.” He holds up the glass to her face before throwing it across the room. Lena stiffens, but she doesn’t flinch. “Usually, one would never recognize it, but I know because my bitch of a wife put it in my drink the night she left me, sneaking off like a frightened little rat, just like you were planning to.”

Lex bares his teeth. “You women, you’re all fools. None more than you, baby sister. You couldn’t even think of a different plan.”

“I did.”

Lena’s free hand subtly disappears within the folds of her dress. As Kara watches, she silently withdraws a knife hidden within her dress and swiftly stabs it into Lex’s side. Lex yells in pain and his eyes widen as Lena twists the handle and pulls the knife out for good measure.

Lex groans as Lena pushes him off of her and leaves him lying on the ground. She gives him one last look, her eyes full of pain and cold anger. “Good bye, Lex.”

Without another backwards glance, Lena draws her cloak around her shoulders and all but flies to the stables. Her horse is there, ready and saddled, and she rides swiftly away from Luthor Manor.

Kara recognizes the path she takes. It’s the same path she’s taken away from the Inze house, the one that leads to the graveyard, and at once, her stomach is filled with dread. She wants to scream at Lena to take a different road, but Lena can’t hear her.

The dread worsens into full panic when she hears hoof beats growing louder and louder near them. She sees the same terror in Lena’s eyes when another horse cuts her path, and the mare she’s riding on rears up in fright.

“Lena!” Kara screams as Lena is thrown off the horse, her head hitting the ground hard. But Lena can’t hear her. She moans feebly on the ground, the back of her head covered in blood. She hangs onto her consciousness, and Kara watches fearfully as Lena tries valiantly to get up.

Behind her, Lex dismounts from his horse, his entire right side blooming red with blood from Lena’s knife. He advances toward her, hand on his side, and Lena stumbles, pulling herself away from him on her arms.

Kara frantically tries what she can to help, even though she knows it’s useless. Her hands can’t pull Lena up or beat Lex away as he drops onto one knee beside her struggling form. A glint of a blade is the only warning Kara gets before the blade Lena had used to stab Lex drives into her body now, and all of Lena’s breath comes out in a choked scream.

“You couldn’t just do what I asked, could you, Lena? Everything would have been perfect, little sister. Our fortunes restored, the Luthor name once again redeemed and exalted, and you would have been set for life.” Lex hisses in her face, flecks of his blood spitting from his mouth to her cheek. “But you had to go and spread your legs for some servant girl like a filthy whore!”

Lena closes her eyes, tears trickling down her face, and Lex laughs mirthlessly at her, voice lowering to a dangerous mutter.

“And where is she now, Lena? Where is your faithful Kara? She never came back for you, did she? You’re about to die, little sister. You’re going to bleed out in this godforsaken road, and she’s not here. You’re all alone.”

Kara screams at him, beats her ineffectual fists at him as he struggles to his feet, away from Lena, dropping her body on the side of the road. Kara drops to her knees beside her fading form, frantically trying to place her hands on her abdomen, as if she could close the wound herself. “Lena…. Lena….”

Her hands can do nothing. Unlike before, there is no resistance when she tries to touch Lena, her hands simply grasp thin air, even though the jagged wound on Lena’s stomach is terrifyingly real. Lena chokes on blood and air, and she can’t see Kara’s pleading face as she mouths her last word.

“Kara…”

All at once, the light blinds Kara again, and she’s wrenched away from Lena. She screams and tries to reach out, but to no avail.

When the light fades, she finds herself in the woods again, this time astride a horse, with Kal by her side. 

She spies the limping form of Lex Luthor between the trees, blood trailing behind him, and she feels white-hot rage surge through her veins. She dismounts from her horse and lunges at him, dragging his broken body forward.

“Kara!” Kal’s voice tries to stop her, but Kara is beyond all reason.

She fists her hands into his bloodied collar and shakes him. “Where’s Lena??”

Vaguely, Kara realizes that she’s no longer seeing Lena’s memories, but Kara’s. The realization is lost when Lex laughs, and she wants to tear the smile from his face.

“You're too late.” Lex sneers, blood and spittle flying from his mouth, his face contorted in a terrible smile. “She’s dead.”

Kara finally screams her rage in his face. “You’re lying!! Where is she??!”

Lex doesn’t answer, just laughs and laughs. She wants to kill him, she could so easily finish the job, but she has to find Lena first. 

She leaves Lex with Kal, and follows the trail of blood, her stomach turning and her heart pounding in her throat. From a distance, Kara can see where the trail ends, to a pool of blood and a lifeless figure dressed in white.

She screams. And screams.

It feels never-ending.

Everything shifts again, and Kara weeps against it, wanting this to end.

It doesn’t.

When everything rights itself again, Kara is standing in front of the old Luthor Manor. It’s in terrible condition, the west wing has caved in. Its shutters are broken and its windows empty. Like the family it served, it is dead now.

“There’s nothing left here, Kara.” Kal tells her “We should go. There’s nothing for you here.”

Kara shakes her head, resolute. “Not yet. I have a promise to keep.”

Their room is in disrepair. The bed they shared their love on is lifeless and broken, just like her lady. Kara grips the dusty sheets, tears slipping silently down her face. She would howl her grief out if she could. If she could, she would scream and yell and rage for the woman she loved and lost. 

But she can’t. Her grief is too far beyond that.

So instead she drops the sheets and bends down to retrieve her oils and paints from their hiding spot in the floor. Nothing else in this room is retrievable, but this -- the last gift Lena gave to her -- is sacred.

That night, with great effort, she lifts the brush again. She can’t paint Lena’s face anymore. It hurts too much. That wound will never heal, but she can seal it within the necklace and place it above her heart.

Instead, Kara paints everything and anything else. She lets the brushes guide her, instead of her guiding them.

For a long time, she paints only in blacks of night and reds of blood and browns of earth covering the dead. She paints in slashes and heavy strokes that demand the weight of grief. 

Sometimes the brush becomes too heavy in her hand, and she yearns to put it down, but Kara made a promise, and she is the only one left to keep it for -- herself, and the memory of a dead girl -- so she persists.

And then one day, baby Jon comes toddling into her room, burbling nonsensically around the fist in his mouth. 

He waddles unsteadily toward her, tripping into her dress. She catches him with a small oof! And he laughs as a streak of paint smears his cheek. His hand splatters into her paints and he smears them over Kara too, making her chuckle. 

They make a little game out of it, smearing paint all over each other, and Kara opens the brighter colors that catch his eye. Soon, both Kara and baby are smeared with greens and yellows and blues and pinks. She opens the colors that had been Lena’s favorites, and she lets Jon smear them onto her face.

She’s just teaching the baby how to mix paints to get orange when Lois catches them red-handed in the middle of their mess.

But instead of scolding them, Lois sees the first smile Kara has cracked in months and she shakes her head at both of them, chuckling, and marches them both off to get a bath.

And so Kara heals. 

Slowly, and in small steps forward and many falls backward. But she learns to live again. She learns to build her life around the cavern in her heart.

Lois gives one of her paintings to her sister Lucy as a gift, and it hangs in Lucy’s sitting room for a while, until one of her guests, an illustrious and irrepressible widow named Lady Grant, sees the painting and offers to purchase it from Lucy on the spot.

Lady Grant proceeds to commission an entire series of paintings from Kara, and Kara rapidly acquires more patrons who marvel at her paintings, and praise her on the depth and emotion behind her work. 

“One cannot help but be moved by them, by you, Kara.” Lady Grant tells her once in a rare moment of candid compassion.

Through it all, she never forgets her promise.

When, years later, she stands underneath an arch of white flowers -- plumerias, her lady's favorite -- Lois asks what her “something borrowed” is for the wedding, Kara doesn’t answer her. 

Instead, Kara silently answers the woman in the portrait, sitting hidden in the necklace above her heart.

“My heart. It will never be owned by another, merely borrowed. He may become my husband, but my heart will always, always belong to you, Lena.”

______________

“Kara… Kara, wake up.”

Kara opens her eyes to see Lena’s face hovering over hers. The ground is cold and hard underneath her, sprinkled lightly with dew. Kara blinks rapidly a few times. It’s morning now, still early if the light is anything to go by, and the first rays of the sun are just brightening the horizon.

“Kara…” Lena’s eyes are relieved as she sits up, but her voice still holds a touch of concern. Her fingers hover lightly over Kara’s shoulder, touching but not quite touching. “Are you alright?”

“Do you… Do you remember now?”

Lena looks away from her, her eyes downcast and pained. Her voice breaks on a single word “Yes, I remember. I died on this road, and Kara, she never came. I was alone.”

“No.” Kara surges forward, ducking her head to get Lena to meet her eyes. “She came back for you. She… she may have been too late, but she came back. She never forgot you, Lena, not for the rest of her life. And she never forgot her promise.”

Lena finally meets her gaze, her eyes full of sorrow and hope long held back.

“Come with me. Let me show you.”

The path feels long and full of the things Kara knows now, but she and Lena walk through it side by side. Kara wishes she could hold Lena’s hand, but she settles for letting her fingers brush the outline of Lena’s.

She takes Lena back to her ancestral home, and opens the doors for her. The morning sun is just high enough now for the light to filter beautifully through the vast windows, painting the rooms with warmth. 

“She made this home for you, Lena.” Kara turns to the other woman, who finally steps through the threshold with a look of wonder in her eyes. “All those years ago, Kara promised you she would build you a house filled with light and warmth, and she did. She built it from the ruins of the house where you first shared your love, and she’s kept it for you all these years.... All the women in my family -- every daughter that passed through these halls, every bride that said their vows here, all the way down to my Mother who was married here and left this place to me -- every single one has kept it.... And it was all for you.”

Kara takes the locket on her chest and opens it to show Lena the portrait her Kara made of her. “She kept you in her heart until she was ready to give you to her daughter at her wedding day. She was never able to be with you, but don’t you see...? Every time this necklace passed from one bride in this family to the next, she gave you her vows and she kept you alive.”

A strange sense of peace washes through Kara as she leads Lena through the halls of her family’s home. Lena’s home.

Lena touches the walls of the house, the flowers adorning the staircase, with reverent hands. There are tears on her face, but she is smiling as steps into the light filtering through the windows. She closes her eyes and turns her face to the light, as if she can feel its warmth. Kara stands next to her, feeling her heart fill at the sight of Lena in the home she was promised.

“Your brother cursed you with his last words when he made you believe she would never come back. That you were all alone. He kept you bound to your sadness for so long, but Lena…. your Kara loved you so much that her love for you spanned generations. You don’t have to let his words keep you bound. You can choose to be free.”

Lena’s eyes open slowly, and as Kara watches, her face becomes radiant, awash with blinding love and emotion.

“I…… I see her. I see Kara.” Lena’s reverent voice breaks into a breathless sob. “She says she’s been waiting for me.” 

Lena turns back to her one last time, tears of joy shining in her eyes, and Kara knows she will never see her again. “Thank you.”

For a long moment, Lena glows so brightly that the light blinds Kara’s eyes. By the time her eyes open, the light is gone. 

And so is Lena.

Kara stands quietly in the middle of the room and takes a long inhale. The melancholia of the past few days is gone. Even the anxiety of the last few weeks seems to have fallen off her shoulders. Instead, she just feels a lightness in her whole body, and a clarity of thought she hasn’t known in a long time.

“Kara?” Alex’s voice comes from behind her, concerned, and Kara turns slowly to face her. “Are you okay?”

Kara huffs a small laugh and beams at her. “Yeah, I really am.”

Alex moves to stand beside her. She’s still in her pajamas, and there’s a quiet sort of hesitation in the way she approaches Kara, all sisterly concern. 

Kara smiles warmly at her and offers her hand. Alex takes it and they both look out the vast windows.

“I can’t go through with this wedding, Alex.”

Her sister turns toward her, studying her with a protective eye. When all she sees on Kara’s face is contentment and a tranquil sense of calm, Alex nods. “I know.”

“You do?”

“I could kinda tell.” Alex shrugs and gives her a knowing look. “You’re my sister, I know you. I was just waiting for you to tell me.”

“Does Eliza know?”

“Knowing her, she probably does.”

“Well, then.” Kara inhales long and deep. “I guess the only one left to tell is Mon-El.”

“Why am I not surprised that your groom is the last to know that he’s not gonna be a groom after all?”

________

By SorrowsFlower

This was so fucking hard to write (I actually had most of it written up but it was hard to join them all up together, but it JUST WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE). There is an epilogue of sorts to this, but I think y’all can probably see it coming, so I might as well not write it lol.

[storiesforallfandoms]

riding alone ~ robb stark;game of thrones

part one

word count: 2249

request?: no

description: after meeting the starks, she gets to spend some alone time with her husband to be

pairing: robb stark x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

(Y/N) was awoken the next morning by her maidens. The moment her eyes were open, they were pulling her out of bed to dress her. The maiden that had taken care of her the night before had spread the news of Robb’s plans to the others and the moment they had all woke up, they hurried to get (Y/N) ready for her day with her husband to be.

After some arguments, (Y/N) managed to convince her maidens to put her in a simple slip dress instead of a fancy, royal one like they had wanted. They were just finishing dressing her and brushing her hair when there was a knock at the door. Simultaneously, the girls gasped with excitement, causing (Y/N) to giggle at their reactions.

She stood to answer the door to find Robb standing there, also already dressed and ready for the day. He smiled at (Y/N).

“Good morning, (Y/N),” he said. “I hope you slept well.”:

“I did, thank you,” (Y/N) responded and curtseyed slightly to him.

Robb chuckled. “Please, you do not need to use those formalities with me.” He offered her his arm. “Breakfast is almost ready. My family has already gathered, and they are eager to meet you.”

(Y/N) began to feel anxious as she took Robb’s arm. The night before was the first time she had ever even seen Lord Stark in person, let alone meeting the entire Stark family.

Robb placed a comforting hand over hers that was placed on his arm. He could feel her tense. “You needn’t worry about my parents, or my siblings. Father may seem serious to the public, but he is a good man when he is with family, and mum is just excited to have another daughter.”

“I just have never been in the presence of the Stark family before, and now my first time meeting them is as their soon to be daughter-in-law.”

“Just be yourself, they’ll love you,” Robb assured her.

Even with his reassurance, (Y/N)’s heart was still beating fast as they entered the dining area. Lord and Lady Stark were sat on either ends of the table while their children lined the sides. There were two empty chairs, one beside Lord Stark and one beside his wife. (Y/N) mentally claimed the latter.

All attention turned to them as they entered. (Y/N) tried not to seem as scared as she was.

“Everyone,” Robb addressed the room, “this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is my father, Eddard, my mother, Catelyn, and my siblings, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, and Jon.”

(Y/N) curtseyed as Catelyn rose to her feet. She wrapped her arms around (Y/N), taking her by surprise but she happily accepted the gesture.

“Please, no formalities,” Catelyn told her. “We are about to be family.”

(Y/N) looked over at Robb, who was attempting to hide his smirk. He and his mother were very alike.

Catelyn lead her to the seat between her and Arya, which (Y/N) was very grateful for. Robb sat at the other end of the large table between his father and his eldest brother, Jon.

Eddard looked different than he had the night before. He looked relaxed, and not as scary as (Y/N) remembered.

“Welcome to our family, (Y/N),” he said to her. “We are pleased to have a lovely young woman such as yourself marrying our boy.”

He clapped Robb on the shoulder, earning him a proud smile from his son.

“What does your father do that made him have to steal?” Arya asked, looking at her with curiosity.

“Arya!” Catelyn scolded the young girl.

“It is alright,” (Y/N) said. She addressed Arya to respond, “He is a fisherman. It is just an off season currently, his catches aren’t worth as much as they once were and he has many children to provide for.”

“Does not mean he had to steal,” Sansa muttered.

“It does not,” (Y/N) agreed. “It was a lack of judgement on his part, and I truly appreciate what you have done for him, Lord Stark.”

Before Eddard could respond, Sansa spoke again, “I think he should have been imprisoned. He is a thief, and I do not feel comfortable with the child of a thief being a part of our family.”

“Sansa!” Robb snapped before his mother could. His face was red with anger as he glared at his sister. Sansa glared back at him before shooting (Y/N) another look and turning to the food that was being placed in front of her.

(Y/N) sunk back into her seat as a way to away from the attention of anyone else. She was starting to feel the weight of the family’s titles versus her lack of one. Maybe she really did not belong there, maybe Robb’s parents would change their minds and send her home so they could find a better suitor for Robb.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence. (Y/N) wished nothing more than to disappear back to her room and to never have to cross paths with anyone else in the Stark family, besides Robb. At least not until the wedding.

“Father,” Robb said, breaking the silence, “I would like to take (Y/N) on a ride to give her a tour of our kingdom. I may be gone for some time.”

“That is quite alright, son, you can take whichever horse you like. I will send two guards with you - ”

“I would prefer to go alone, if that is alright.”

(Y/N) looked up at Robb in shock. Even she, just a commoner who was new to the royal life, knew that it would be a better idea for the future ruler of Winterfell and his soon to be wife to travel with at least one guard. Just because the Starks were royalty did not mean they were untouchable. There were quite some people who wanted to seriously harm the family, if not completely kill them all.

Eddard did not look pleased with the idea, but instead of insisting upon sending guards, he said, “Alright. But be careful and be aware of your surroundings.”

A pleased smile grew on Robb’s face. “Of course, father, I always am.”

“Maybe you should bring a guard,” Sansa spoke. “Just in case the thief's daughter wants to mimic her father’s crimes.”

“Sansa!” both Catelyn and Eddard hissed as Robb rose to his feet. A look of fear passed on Sansa’s face as she shrunk back into her seat, watching Robb intently.

“You speak another ill word about (Y/N) and you will regret it,” Robb hissed. “She is more a lady than you will ever be.”

He looked to (Y/N) and she rose from her seat as well. She was yet to finish her breakfast, but she knew she did not want to be there with Sansa for much longer. Especially not if Robb was deciding to leave right that moment as well.

(Y/N) followed Robb to the stables in a tense silence. He explained to the stable boys that he was taking (Y/N) out on a ride and would not be back for a long time, but if they did not return by nightfall to alert the king. The stable boys helped (Y/N) onto the horse behind Robb.

“Have you ever ridden before?” Robb asked her. She shook her head in response. “Hold on tight then, love. I like to ride my horses fast.”

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around Robb’s middle and held tightly as he signalled to the horse to go. They took off towards the nearby forest.

Robb was true to his word and rode so fast (Y/N) was terrified to let go. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head against Robb’s back. She felt him vibrate as he chuckled at her reaction, but still did not slow down.

It was not long until Robb was pulling on the horse’s reigns to get it to stop running. The horse slid to a stop and (Y/N) waited a moment before raising her head to look around. They had stopped on a peak that was high above Winterfell and looked down on Robb’s house, which looked small enough to be inhabited by mice from this high up.

(Y/N) let go of Robb as he dismounted from the horse. He extended a hand to her to help her down. As (Y/N) tried to swing her leg over, her dress was caught in the saddle and she found herself falling from the horse’s back. Robb was quick to duck under her and to catch her before she hit the ground.

“You must be more careful, love,” he told her as he helped her to stand up. “The last thing I want is for you to hurt yourself trying to get down from my horse.”

“I guess I just need some practice with horse riding,” (Y/N) responded, her fact heating up with embarrassment. “This place is beautiful. You can see all of Winterfell from here.”

“Maybe not all,” Robb said. “It is a big kingdom, but you can see most of it.”

(Y/N) was taking in the view when she felt Robb gently touch her on the small of her back. She turned to see him looking at her, and expression on her face that she could barely read.

“I am so sorry for my sister,” he told her. “She is...well, she is very proud, for a lack of better words. She made sure to be raised as a proper lady, and takes her title as such far too seriously. She is set to marry King Baratheon’s boy, Joffery, when she starts to bleed and can provide the Baratheon family with their next heir, so she believes she should act higher than everyone else, even mum and father.”

“She does not seem to trust me,” (Y/N) said, looking down at the ground. “And I cannot blame her. I am just a commoner, the daughter of a thief who was only betrothed to you so my father could be free to provide for our family. If you father was not so kind hearted, I would never have even crossed your path.”

Robb cupped her chin and gently lifted her head so she would look at him. “Of course we would have crossed paths. I do not believe this betrothment happened by accident. I believe, maybe, I was meant to meet you.”

(Y/N) chuckled and tried to pull away from Robb’s hand. “If we had met, it would have been with me becoming your maiden, not your wife. You would have been betrothed to a powerful woman, a princess or a Lady like your mother, or to a woman who would help bring more gain to your family and to Winterfell, not to the normal daughter of a fisherman.”

Robb was silent. (Y/N)’s eyes searched his face but could not get a reading on him. She wanted to back away then, an apology on the tip of her tongue. She was terrified that she had angered him, and what the consequences would be for angering a Lord.

Before she could speak, Robb’s arm came around her waist and pulled her to him. He pressed his lips on hers without hesitation, his hand moving from her chin to her cheek to gently caress her face as they kissed. It was the first time (Y/N) had ever kissed anyone, and it felt as magical as her mother had always promised her it would.

Her hands slipped around his neck, and she tested the waters by pressing herself against him. Robb’s arm tightened around her waist, as if approving of the gesture, as he pressed his lips harder against hers. When he finally pulled away, (Y/N) swore she was seeing stars before her vision returned to normal and she could look at him.

“I do not care what your title is,” Robb told her. “I do not care if you are betrothed to me, I care only for you. I know we barley know one another, but I believe there is something about you that makes you special to me. And I want nothing more than to explore whatever that could be, to make this marriage not something you are being forced into, but something you wish to do. But only if you feel the same way I do.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile at Robb. “I do feel something as well, something I believe could be love, but I, too, would like to get to know you better and to explore this feeling before we are to be man and wife.”

Robb’s smile was so bright (Y/N) swore it was brighter than the sun. He kissed her again with so much passion, (Y/N)’s head spun. She giggled as he pulled away, but kissed her forehead once more.

“I would like to come here more often,” she told him, turning in his arms so she was facing the view. Robb wrapped both arms around her and held her close, pressing his body against hers and resting his head on her shoulder. “It is beautiful here.”

“Then we shall come here every day until you grow tired of the view,” Robb told her. “This can be our special spot.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I would love that.”

[leapyearkisses]

On the Lupine Lawn - (m/m) Eliseo/Padgett

3 AM POST P0RN (like it matters to me what time it is lol)

NSFW, MESS, Outdoor sex, inducing - Eliseo and Padgett have a picnic.

---

Eliseo glanced over again at his lover and bit his tongue. He didn't want to say anything. He didn't want to say anything in case he was wrong. His being wrong was a very real possibility. And, if he was wrong, then it was pretty likely that Padgett would make fun of him. After all, even though they'd been together now for a year, Padgett knew himself best, and Eliseo didn't want to jump at shadows and ruin the moment.

It was almost July. The weather had been perfect so far this week, although they were coming off a stretch of rain. To celebrate the arrival of picnic weather, Padgett had suggested they actually go on one. Eliseo had been more than amenable to leaving his accounting for an afternoon, so he'd agreed, and now the two of them were sitting on a blanket in a shady corner of the Lupine Lawn at the Jorvalds' manor house, called Bellecourt. The lupines had started blooming a few days prior and were now a waving sea of blue and purple blossoms with a few cobble-lined paths going through.

The air was just a touch humid and filled with the scent of flowers and growing things.  The green aroma of cut grass wafted down from the front of the house.  The heat was punctuated by the sound of ice cubes shifting in their glasses and insects droning in the field.

Surely, Eliseo thought again, as he poured himself more lemonade from the crystal pitcher, Padgett would not have suggested a picnic if he were susceptible to summer rose-cold.

Padgett rubbed his nose and looked over to Eliseo with a smile.  "You've gone quiet," he said fondly. "I hope you're not thinking about work. Haven't you been busy enough this week?" The only one among his siblings with a head for numbers, Eliseo had been roped into managing the Jorvalds' several properties and their land interests. He was quite good at the work, but Padgett lamented how it kept Eliseo inside more often than not.  He thought that Eliseo, bright and blond, could use some sun; otherwise he tended to look a bit faded.

"Oh no," Eliseo replied. "I'm sorry if I seemed far away." He leaned over across the plaid blanket to steal a kiss, something Padgett was more than willing to allow. "Just enjoying the view. How are you finding it?"

Padgett chuckled. "Are you talking about me or the lupines?" He took Eliseo's hand on the blanket. "I'm enjoying it very much. As soon as I heard the manor had such a display, I was intrigued. I'm honestly surprised we're alone today. No society ladies wanted a tour?"

"I sent them to the back gardens. They'll be diverted by the Bernini fountain and the topiary."  The manor was the site of very frequent visitations from the elite families in the area and even some of the townspeople as well.  Usually Eliseo ignored them completely, but today he'd been motivated to provide himself some privacy.

"Ah, of course." Padgett rubbed his nose again. "How many acres did you say you had?" 

"Well, Bellecourt is 650," Eliseo replied. "Or did you mean in total?"

"All that and you don't keep anything but carriage horses," Padgett sighed. "What a shih- shame." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Eliseo blinked, distracted. "What? Oh. The horses again." He tried to pull his gaze from Padgett's fingers. "You're single-minded. I did tell you that none of the family really likes to ride for pleasure."  He'd barely passed his physical exams on horseback with Padgett's help back at the Academy and had steered clear of them ever since.  But Padgett had a fondness for all creatures, up to and including irascible mares.  "Perhaps if you become a more permanent resident, I will order the building of a stable." 

Padgett leaned over to him, grinning. "Permanent as in you'll hire me, my Lord, or did you just float the possibility of marriage?"  His eyes sparkled with an opalescent gleam.

"Don't think I'll be down there cavorting with you," Eliseo soldiered on, feeling hot under the collar. "You know the hay makes me..." Padgett had become very close. In fact, he was almost climbing over Eliseo's lap.  "Makes me-"

"Sneeze," Padgett finished for him, looking coy.  "I remember."  He leaned more forward still and drew Eliseo into a lingering kiss. His lips were soft and insistent, and he opened Eliseo's mouth with his tongue.  The kiss tasted of lemonade.  Before Eliseo could protest - as if he would - Padgett had placed a hand at the back of his head and taken him down to the blanket so he was laying back in the sunshine with the shade of Padgett over him.  Their bodies were flush in a most interesting way.

Eliseo could feel himself blushing now, and he was breathless. "Yes," he finally managed, voice soft.  "That's right."

"You know," said Padgett, sniffling, wrinkling his nose, "I think something out here might be setting me off."

"Hadn't noticed," Eliseo lied, obviously, and Padgett laughed.  He bit his lip and reached up to touch Padgett's cheek.  "You're awful.  You should have told me if you were going to have a reaction.  It's not the lupines, is it?"

"It’s not," said Padgett, leaning into his touch.  "It's probably ragweed.  Did you know the pollen can travel long distances on the wind?"  He kissed Eliseo again, then nuzzled their noses together.  It didn't escape his notice that Eliseo's hips rocked upward at the same time.  "It bothers me much more in the autumn.  Right now, I'm just..."  He trailed off, eyes narrowing, but the moment passed.  He sniffled again.  "I'm just a little affected."

Eliseo sighed lightly in frustration.  His fingers found Padgett's buttons and he started to undo them.  "Maybe a more prolonged exposure will have an effect," he said, reaching the end of Padgett's shirt and pulling it open.  "Take some deep breaths.  They're calming."

Padgett laughed loudly and nipped Eliseo's jaw.  "You're delightful," he said.  "And a bit scary."  He helped Eliseo with his suspenders and belt, sitting back for a moment to slip off the trappings and put them to the side.  He kicked his shoes off.

"I trust you to know your own limits," Eliseo replied primly.  "And-" Even knowing they were alone in the field, and separated from the house by almost a mile of grass besides, he lowered his voice.  "I just know what I like."

"Oh, and will you tell me again?" Padgett asked, tugging Eliseo's belt and trousers off.  He pulled the pant legs carefully over Eliseo's black leather boots, ornately stitched and high-heeled.  He wanted the boots left on.  "I love it whih- hh when you say it."  He kissed Eliseo's thigh and then looked at him through his ebony bangs.

Eliseo was still blushing.  He might never get over it.  But he didn't hesitate this time.  He reached out to tug Padgett close again, murmuring against his lover's cheek.  "Honey, I want you to sneeze for me."  His pale blue eyes were half-lidded with desire.

Padgett brought their mouths together again.  "I'll see what I can do."

The picnic hadn't been a pretense - they'd had a very nice lunch - but Eliseo wasn't surprised when Padgett took a pair of towels and a bottle of oil from the picnic basket.  He made himself comfortable with a makeshift pillow and a towel under his hips, and then Padgett slid into him, one of Eliseo's legs over his shoulder, boot commandingly in the air.  They were still limber from the morning, and Eliseo moaned sweetly but didn't tense when Padgett was fully encompassed inside him.  "I love you," he sighed.  "Talk to me?"

"How much air do you think I have?" Padgett grumbled, but he knew Eliseo liked to listen to his breath catch and stumble.  He took a moment to massage his nostrils as he let Eliseo get used to the stretch.  "You look so good like this."  Eliseo's hair was falling from its twist already and fanning over the blanket like a halo.  His skin was rosy with his desire.  Padgett groaned and shifted.  "If I could paint, I would paint you just like this."

"Flattery," Eliseo murmured, pleased as punch.  He touched Padgett's sides, rubbed encouragingly.  "I'm okay.  I'm ready."

Padgett hummed in acknowledgement and started to move his hips.  He knew by now the angle that could make Eliseo crazy, and he teased up to it with steady thrusts.  All the while, he spoke sweet nothings or tried to rile Eliseo into blushing even more.  There was an extra edge to their excitement being outside, the sun gilding their skin with buttery light.  Their cries mingled with the the birds', and when Eliseo came, he didn't bother to try and muffle his voice.  No one would hear them here.  Padgett followed him over the edge with his own shout, and they both laughed breathlessly when it startled a pigeon into flight.  Padgett eased himself down onto Eliseo, careful not to drop too quickly, and started to kiss him passionately as they both relaxed through their orgasm and the tender moments afterward.

After a few minutes, Padgett felt Eliseo's fingers on his cheek.  He drew back.  Eliseo was looking up at him, eyebrows raised, looking half wry and all spoiled. "You didn't sneeze," he said.

Padgett blinked.  "I didn't?"  He sniffed.  There was a slight prickle in the back of his sinuses, but he certainly didn't feel as he did in the autumn when the ragweed was in full swing.  "I didn't even notice, my love.  I'm sorry."  He nuzzled Eliseo's nose with his own again.  "It looks like I might have overestimated the pollen's effect.  What do you want to do?"

Eliseo reached to the side of them, off the blanket, and plucked a long-stemmed blade of grass.  He twirled it between his fingers.

"Let me sit up."  Padgett rose and settled himself with his legs outstretched on the blanket, sticking his hands out behind him to brace himself up.  "It's going to be messy, my love," he warned.  "Did you bring a handkerchief?"

"I always have one in my vest," Eliseo replied, settling himself on Padgett's thighs.  "But you can have it after.  Is that okay?"  He reached back to take down his hair completely and it uncurled to hang heavy around his shoulders.  He spun the grass again.  Eliseo's cock had softened somewhat after his orgasm, but Padgett was sure he would come again from this.

"Yes, Eli."  Padgett sniffled a little to work him up.  "Whenever you're ready." 

Eliseo touched Padgett’s chin with his left hand and lifted the grass with his other, settling the point just inside Padgett’s left nostril so that it pricked the inside. Padgett settled his hand around Eliseo’s lower back. They’d done this before in the bedroom.  Padgett was always quite keen to indulge Eliseo if he felt well - and if he didn’t, then he was probably sneezing already and Eliseo could find pleasure while taking care of him.

Eliseo traced the edges of Padgett’s nose, eliciting a gasp, and then pressed the grass carefully further inside to touch the sensitive membrane at the back.  Padgett’s nostrils flared and his breath started to catch.  The low-level burn of the pollen in the air had been joined by a much more prominent itch from the grass.  Moisture began to gather as his body tried to fight the irritation.

Eliseo moaned very softly under his breath and pressed his cock against Padgett’s.  As Padgett has expected, Eliseo was quite hard again, his cock hot.

“Ih- it’s wh- working,” Padgett managed, letting his eyes close, sniffling. He took a deeper breath, hitched.  “I’m hh gonna snih-” He tightened his hold on Eliseo’s waist and ducked forward.  “Huhkscht!”  His nose had started to run, and he wasn’t done yet.  “Hh- huhptksch!”  That one produced more mess, and Padgett lifted a hand to wipe some of it away from his chin.

“Bless you,” crooned Eliseo, flushed again, embarrassed but unable to deny how very turned on he was.  He drew out the grass, sodden now, and kissed Padgett gently.  “Again, honey.  Please?  I’m close.”

Padgett plucked a new blade of grass himself and leaned in to nuzzle Eliseo’s shoulder.  “As you wish, my love.”  He kissed the tender skin there, then started to tease himself, a little more aggressively, looking for the angle that would produce the best results.  His nostrils were twitching as he worked, and he gasped, moaned a little himself in frustration or pleasure. He brushed the tip of the grass just at the back of his nose and-

“Hrushktcht!”  There it was.  He pressed his nose to Eliseo’s shoulder, letting the mess pool against his neck.  “Ahkttscht!  Kschtt!  Hh- huh- Huhkttschiu!”

Eliseo keened and clutched Padgett’s arm as he came again in a heady rush, painting Padgett’s belly with his release.  Padgett pressed another sneeze against him and Eliseo closed his eyes, letting the orgasm take him.

In the aftermath, Padgett let Eliseo kiss his face clean as he used the towel to dry them off and make them presentable again.  They dressed again, and none too soon, for it seemed that the society women had grown bored with the Bernini and wanted to make their own visit to the Lupine Lawn.  Well, the summer was early yet.  Padgett and Eliseo left to return to the house, picnic things packed up. 

They were already planning another.

[multific]

Beautiful

Geralt x Reader

Genre: Fluff, AU

Words: 1720

Summary: You lived alone, but when Geralt shows up, you won’t be alone anymore.

 It was early morning. You went out to feed your animals. Finishing with your horses, you noticed an unfamiliar horse tied to the side of your barn.

You looked around but saw no one. And since you lived alone in the middle of nowhere, you found it odd.

Since you didn’t see anyone and the horse looked rather hungry, you took it into your barn to the other horses. Got the saddle off of her and all the bags that she carried. You figured that the person might come back for her, so you placed everything in one place.

You brushed the horse and admired her perfect shape. It was obvious that her owner loved and cared for her, so why was she left behind?

You talked to the horse and it seemed like she understood you.

“Who left you here? Must be a cruel man or woman leaving such a nice girl behind. Do you want carrots? I have some.” after you finished brushing her, you let her go to your other horses as you grabbed carrots and an apple to treat her.

As you watched the brown horse enjoying her treat with your horses, you saw a man approaching.

His attire matched the bag that you found on the horse, that’s why you assumed that he might be the owner.

He looked intimidating with his long white hair, he was a witcher. But you weren’t scared. Being a fairy yourself, if he attacked, you’ll be able to get away in one piece.

“Roach?” you heard the man ask.

“Well, my name is Y/N. I took care of your horse while you were… away.”

He didn’t seem like the one to enjoy conversations. But you could tell he didn’t like the fact that when he called his horse, she ignored him.

“So that’s her name? Roach?” you tried to talk with him but he only hummed as an answer. However he didn’t miss it when you called the name, Roach looked at you.

She went over to you and put her head over the fence and close to you, asking for pets.

This is when the witcher took a closer look at you.

“You’re a fairy.” he commented.

“Indeed. I took care of your horse, aren’t you supposed to say thank you?”

“Thanks. But I need to leave now, come on Roach. And where’s my stuff?”

“Right there.” you pointed at his bags. “It doesn’t seem like she wants to go.”

The look he gave you meant to be scary, but it made you giggle instead.

“Right, very scary face. Do the jaw thing again and it- YES. There you go. Now you look like a completely insane man who’s hungry. To show you my kindness, I’ll treat you for breakfast.”

Without looking back you walked back to your small house.

“So, I told you my name, what’s yours?” you asked as you heard him follow you. After all, who would turn down a beautiful fairy’s offer for food? Everyone knew that fairy’s cooked amazingly well.

“Geralt.” now it was you who hummed at the man.

But the small cottage wasn’t so small on the inside. Geralt looked around amazed at the décor and warm feeling the home gave him.

Geralt ended up staying the whole day at your place. He even forgot to go and collect his coins for the beast he killed. The witcher wondered if it was your magic that made him feel safe and thus, he stayed.

And how glad he was that he did. Your cooking and baking was like heaven, even the ale tasted better at your place.

Geralt wanted to believe that this really was just a hallucination and that you were toying with him or trying to kill him, that would have been a lot easier to deal with than what the truth was.

And truth was that even though a witcher was supposed to feel nothing, somehow, Geralt did. Maybe it was the fact that you were a fairy. Fairies are known for being easy-going and liked by everyone. Even monsters liked them, which had to be weird to some people.

But if Geralt was honest with himself, he really enjoyed it. Not only the food but the company as well. You were quite intelligent and shared many of his views.

So, when he had to leave the next morning, both of you were disappointed. You, because you lost the only person who wasn’t afraid of you for who you were, and him, because as soon as he left the cottage, he missed its warmth.

Naturally, Geralt knew that he will have to come back and visit you, Y/N, the fairy who lived in a magical farm with animals and a cottage that strangely even for the witcher, felt like home.

It was about Geralt’s fifth visit when he came with a friend, Jaskier. You found the bard rather charming, but he wasn’t Geralt.

You realized that your feelings towards the witcher are stronger than friendship at his third visit. You could only hope that his feelings were similar if not the same, and that is why he came back to you.

You didn’t want to let your imagination run wild. You knew what kind of men witchers are. Cold, emotionless and dangerous. And although you knew, Geralt was like that, he seemed to be different with you. And you couldn’t even blame your fairy charms on that. Not many people knew it, but you could decide who to use your powers on. It wasn’t just every person that came your way that became lucky and calm, it was who you chose to do that too. And you tried not to use it on many people, you wanted them to feel what they were supposed to and wanted to, not what you wanted them.

Geralt and Jaskier had been gone for a long time. You decided to visit a village to get some supplies you needed.

When you met the lovely woman that always gave you quality eggs in exchange for herbs, two men decided that it would be a great idea to flirt with you.

“Look at the little Fairy. Beautiful isn’t she?”

“Yes. Hey, would you like to play with us a little?”

The men tried to touch you, but in one movement, with one hit, you knocked both out in an instant.

The lady looked at you with an approving face and she offered you a smile.

As you turned to leave, you saw Geralt and Jaskier behind you, Jaskier looked more impressed while Geralt had a rather shocked expression.

“Didn’t know you had it in you.” said Geralt

“Well, you don’t know everything, Geralt.” you smiled as you and Jaskier walked back to your house, Geralt following behind.

After dinner, Jaskier was long asleep. Geralt just had a bath and was heading to his room when he noticed candles were lit in the kitchen. He found you sitting by the table drinking something that seemed like wine.

“Would you like some?” you offered and the witcher took it, sitting in front of you.

“Why are you up?” he asked.

“It’s spring. Fairies hardly sleep at times like this. Everything is fertile and ready to produce new life. I found a fox the other day, she’s fine now, but I spent my whole evening helping her give birth.”

“That still doesn’t really answer my question.” you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Fair enough. I just can’t. I missed you though. You two have been gone for a long time. Jaskier will sing my ears off tomorrow with his new songs. What happened?”

“Nothing really, I just wanted more coin. I plan on being here for a longer time this time. Only if you let me- us! I mean us.”

“You can stay Geralt. Both of you can for as long as you wish. I plan on doing jam tomorrow. I’m sure your strong and manly hands will be perfect for picking berries.” Geralt didn’t miss the joy and mischief in your voice. And he wasn’t blind either. He clearly noticed the way you look at him. He was just not sure how or when he should confess his feelings.

“Sure. I love picking berries.” he said with a smile.

The next day, you were already in the garden when Geralt joined you, kneeling down as he started to pick strawberries.

“Morning!” you greeted him.

“Good morning.”

You continued picking the berries in silence after you gave Geralt a bowl to fill.

You didn’t notice him staring at you. Your mind was on what to make for lunch.

“You’re beautiful.” your eyes locked with Geralt’s it seemed like he didn’t notice that he said it aloud.

“Thank you.” you said while smiling back. Geralt saw the opportunity and took it.

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N, you are the most beautiful I have ever seen. Nothing no one can compete.” Geralt didn’t let you answer as he leaned over and kissed you. His hand holding the back of your neck.

You were in complete shock. Your heartbeat was through the roof. You decided to close your eyes as you concentrated on the kiss and on Geralt more. You first smelt him. His masculine smell then the berries. You felt warmth on both your cheeks and in your heart.

Your sweet moment got interrupted when a voice spoke up.

“Well, that’s a sight to wake up to!” said Jaskier from the door. “I MUST write a song about this. Let’s see… the fairy and the witcher…” the bard didn’t have time to finish his sentence as he got hit by a strawberry. You giggled and Geralt pulled you in for another kiss.

You weren’t sure what this was yet, it could be love or it could turn into love. Whatever it really was, you were happy to have your feelings reciprocated.

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[suntory-toki-senpai]

Eyes on Fire | Chapter 10

a/n: hi guys! I’m so sorry to keep you in the wait for chapter 10! my car broke down (twice) and I was stranded on the side of a freeway frontage road for,,,longer than I care to remember in this heat. I couldn’t even imagine writing while my hair was falling out from stress. anyway, the toyota is back up and running and so am I with new chapters! I also have this story posted on wattpad for people to share more easily which I can link in another post. I appreciate all the support I have gotten. the love keeps me going! 

possible warnings: drunkeness, passing out, illusions to death 

Chapter 10 – Inferno

           The next morning, I rolled over right into Zuko as I woke up. I had half-expected him not to be there, but being greeted by the warmth of his body was welcome.

           “Good morning,” he greeted.

           “No,” I replied hoarsely. I pulled the sheets over my head, hiding my face in his chest.

           “Five more minutes?”

           “Yes.” I said, my voice muffled.

           A soft knock sounded at the door and an attendant came into the room.

           “Good morning, Highness and Sayuri. Breakfast will be ready soon. The Avatar and his companions are waiting,” he said.

           I groaned loudly in response.

           “We will be ready in a few minutes,” Zuko said. I heard the door close softly. “Looks like you’re going to have to get up.”

           “Can’t believe I don’t get morning cuddles,” I groaned, turning away from him.

           “I was looking forward to them, too.” Zuko pulled the sheets from over my head and placed a soft kiss on my forehead and worked his way down to my lips. Another knock on the door.

           “Good morning, Highness and Sayuri. I have clothes for both of you here,” Lin said by way of greeting, placing bundles on an ottoman. “Your Grace, the dressers will be in soon to help you get ready.”

           “Morning, Lin,” I replied.

           “Thank you, Lin,” Zuko said.

I covered my face with the sheets yet again. Zuko forced them off, giving me a look. With another knock at the door, the royal dressers came filing in. I got up and made my way to the bundle of clothes waiting for me.

“I guess this is my cue to exit. What a pity I can’t stay for the show,” I said, sassily as I walked toward the changing screen in Zuko’s chamber.

           “Someone’s being a brat this morning,” Zuko remarked.

           “Sure am,” I replied.

After we were dressed, we went out to join the rest of the gang for breakfast. The plan was for me to leave the palace by ostrich-horse, alone, and to go to the marketplace and open the Tavern as I usually would on any other afternoon. The rest of the gang would come by later in disguise for the diversion. I wouldn’t be able to see Zuko until later, so I prepared myself to say goodbye outside the palace, just before we reached the gates.

           “I’ll see you later, then,” I said.

           “I will,” Zuko replied, moving a piece of hair away from my face.

           I took his hands and held them in mine. “I’m sorry for being a brat this morning. I’m really cranky when I first wake up. My grandpa says I’m an obake.”

           “Ah, yes a shapeshifter. That makes sense,” Zuko replied, smirking.

I perched on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry.”

           “That isn’t my strong suit, but I’ll try.”

           “You have to trust me and your friends, Zuko. We’re gonna help you stop this, once and for all.” I started to move toward the ostrich-horse when Zuko grabbed my arm.

           “Sayuri, I need to tell you something.”

           “What would that be?”

           “I—uh,” he scratched the back of his neck and looked down at the ground.

           “What is it, Highness?”

           “I think you have great breath control. That will suit you well today.”

           I narrowed my eyes in confusion and turned around to hop up onto the ostrich-horse. “Thanks, I guess. See you later.” I nudged the animal to move with my foot and started toward the gate. I turned my head briefly to see Zuko smacking his head with his hand in frustration. I maneuvered the ostrich-horse down the switchbacks, and left him with the Chen family to watch  until I could bring him back to the palace stable.

          I made my way over to the Tavern on foot to get the shopping lists and to attempt to go about my day. I knew Zuko had guards watching me in disguise, but I still felt anxious about being alone. I went about my business at the marketplace as calmly as I could. I ordered plums, rice, and picked up some new yunomi for the Tavern. By the time I got back from the marketplace, it was nearly time to open. I quickly set up the tea kettle and made sure there was enough bottled sake and wine for service. I walked over to the door, took a deep breath, and unlatched it. I turned to my left and snapped my fingers to light the candle signifying we were open.

           “Now, I wait,” I said to myself. I heard a tapping on the back door of the Tavern and quickly ran to investigate. Two men were standing outside waiting. One was tall, young, and similar in build to Tatsuo, and the other was short, old and stocky.

            “Who are you?” I demanded.

            “I guess my nephew did not tell you this part of the plan, Sayuri. I’m here as a decoy for your grandfather along with this young man who works in the palace kitchen. My name is Iroh,” the older man greeted.

           “Oh, sorry. It’s an honor to meet you, General Iroh, the Dragon of the West,” I said, quickly bowing.

           “Retired General, but you can call me Uncle,” he corrected. “This is Jiang, he’s a bit shy.” Jiang waved.

          “I guess you will be Tatsuo tonight, Jiang,” I said.

          He nodded.

          “And I’ll be playing your grandfather! Drinking tea and playing Pai Sho, a role I was born to play!”

         I laughed. “Let me get the board and tea set up for you.”

         “Ah, my dear, it would be an honor to have tea served by the woman who had stolen my nephew’s heart,” Uncle Iroh said.

        “Stolen his heart, huh?” I chuckled.

        “He’ll never admit it, but it’s true.”

        I led Uncle Iroh to the front of the Tavern and prepared tea for him. A few customers began to shuffle in and out. I served them while Uncle Iroh sat in the back and played Pai Sho with my grandfather’s usual opponents, who welcomed the fresh blood. I tapped viciously on the counter and sipped tea spiked with a bit of sake as I waited for the rest of the gang to arrive. Finally, I saw Aang and Katara wander inside wearing Fire Nation clothing. They gave me a nod, and turned to Uncle Iroh and gave him a nod as well. I walked over to take their order. 

        “Hi there. What can I bring you to start off with?” I said. 

        “Spice tea for the table, please,” Aang said. 

        “Coming right up,” I said. I prepared a batch of spice tea and brought it to their table. I returned to my usual spot behind the bar and continued tapping on the counter and glancing at the door every few minutes. 

         “Expecting someone?” Uncle Iroh asked, appearing at the bar. “No,” I said. 

         “Just ready to get this show on the road.” “That isn’t the only thing you’re waiting for, is it?”

         “I guess I’m just waiting for Zuko to break through the door and call the whole thing off.” 

        “My nephew is very overprotective. Especially when it comes to people he cares about.”

        “I know,” I said, looking into my yunomi and taking a sip.

         “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in love before,” Uncle Iroh said, tapping his chin.

          I choked on my tea. I put the yunomi down and reached for the tokkuri to top off my tea with shaking hands. Iroh laughed out loud. 

         “Oh, Sayuri. Love isn’t that scary.” 

         “It is when you don’t know how,” I mumbled.

         “Love isn’t something you do. It’s something you chose to live out,” Uncle Iroh said. 

        “I guess that makes sense. How do you know when you actually love someone?” I asked. 

          “You have to ask yourself that question. What’s the first thing you think about in the morning? You don’t need to say it out loud.”

           I turned and looked at Aang and Katara. They were wordlessly sipping tea. Aang's eyes were on the door and Katara kept scanning the room for threats, but her hand was absent-mindedly running over the top of his. Perhaps, love was less complicated than I understood it to be. I heard the door of the Tavern open as Suki entered, making her way straight to the bar. She looked different without makeup. 

         “I’ll have what you’re having,” she said with a smile, leaning up against the bar.“It’s a bit strong, but if you like spice tea, you’ll like this,” I replied. 

          I poured her a cup of tea and added a bit of sake. 

          “You like a little bit of tea with your sake, don’t you?” Suki said, giving me a look. 

           “Sun goes down, sake cups go up,” I jeered. 

          “The young lady is right, Sayuri. Perhaps this will be your last “extra” spice tea,” Uncle Iroh commented.  I chewed on my lower lip. He was right, I needed to be as sharp as I could tonight. Time passes more slowly in the Tavern. The usual rowdy crowd comes in closer to the weekends, and nights like these are normally uneventful. I closed up a few tabs and made sure a customer who fell asleep at his table got home safely. It was time to start the diversion. I had made it a point to keep the tokkuri right next to my teacup to pour little bits of “sake” into my tea. Growing up in the Tavern made me aware of when people had had “too much”, and how their behavior visibly changed. Their laughter gets louder, words tend to get slurred, and inhibitions go by the wayside. The only time I’ve ever seen a man braver than a soldier on the frontlines of the war is when he was completely under the table. I picked up the last bit of my spiked tea and downed it. I glanced over to Suki, who met my eyes, and I gave her a slight nod. I moved my hand across the counter and pushed over the tokkuri and shattered it. I belted out a loud laugh. 

       “Oopsies!” I giggled. “Now, I hafta go back and clean that up!” I slid off the bar chair and walked with  an extra bounce in my step. I swept up the mess and disappeared into the back with slow, deliberate movements. I slipped out of the back of the Tavern and wandered towards the front, swaying and humming to myself.

“Pop can’t get mad at me for breaking his sake set if I’m not there!” I sang to myself. I wandered away from the Tavern. After I was satisfied with the distance I had made, I took a deep breath, turned my face to the sky, and slurred out the words to my mother’s song.

         “O, dragon’s lair deep down below.

           Keep careful watch over our brother’s souls.

           As the Fire Nation rises o’er the slough.

           Keep watching over…Ursa’s son.”

           Smoke began to pool at my feet and at my sides, and I felt a dark presence growing behind me. I let out my best drunken laugh. “Who’s there?” I sang.

           “You don’t remember us?” a familiar voice.

           “No,” I said, still looking straight ahead. “remind me.”

           “Stupid girl. No one is coming for you,” the voice taunted. I turned around to greet the masked figures.

           “Maybe no one has to.” I took a deep breath and shot fire from my fists toward the smoke-clad figures before moving back. The figures advanced, one with a mysterious vial in her hands. I backed away, fists up, ready to shoot fire again. As I started to turn to maneuver away, I collided with  a masked man, who tried to grab me. It was obvious that I was outnumbered, where the hell were my friends -  I slid underneath the masked man’s legs and pushed him over from behind. The Kemurikage veered forward to grab me again and I shot fire from my fists to move them away. I pushed myself past them and started to run back towards the Tavern, clearly something wasn’t right. The gang should have been with me by now. I could see the Kemurikage running on the roofs of the houses that lined the street I was running on. One of them threw knives at me. I bended a shield of water from the nearby stream, then shot ice daggers back. I returned to the Tavern to find it in chaos, the gang were all engaged in battle with another set of masked men and Kemurikage.

           “Zuko!” I shouted.

           “Sayuri, get out of here! Go back to the Palace!” he shouted back. I watched a masked man come up behind Zuko. I shot a stream of fire from my fists and bended water to freeze him in place. Zuko turned around.

           “You were saying?” I asked.

           I jumped next to Zuko and bended water from the stream around me into a circle of tentacles, shooting ice daggers at the masked men surrounding us, while Zuko shot fire from his fists. I managed to disable a few of the masked men until I noticed Katara falling down, hit by a Kemurikage’s dagger.  I rushed to her side and water whipped the dagger out of the figure's hands, giving Katara time to get up and continue to fight. I turned around to check on Zuko. He had gone over to help Suki and Ty-Lee, who were gradually being cornered into an alleyway. Noticing a Kemurikage coming up on the roof behind them, I snaked a rope of water around the figure’s ankle, causing him to topple from the roof. I froze his hands and feet to the ground. Another Kemurikage appeared out of the shadows and ran over to their accomplice, who was bound to the ground by the ice I’d created. This one moved fluidly and noticeably different from the rest of the group. She broke her accomplice from her bindings and pulled off her mask revealing her identity. It was Azula.

        I frantically scanned the area for Zuko, but he was across the street at the entrance of an alley. I was on my own.

        “Aww, Zuzu! You brought your friends to the party. This was supposed to be a family get-together to meet your bar wench of a girlfriend!” Azula yelled, sarcastically.

       “Give it up, Azula, your Kemurikage game is over!” Zuko shouted. “We took out all your accomplices, and I’m putting them away for a long time!”

       “You think this is over?” Azula retorted, her voice echoing across the street.

       “In case you didn’t notice, Princess, your buddies are all dregs for the street!” Katara shouted back.

       “You think you peasants and the barslut can take me down? You haven’t seen anything yet.”

       I spied a Kemurikage getting up from the ground, lunging for Zuko. I bent two water ropes and dragged him by the ankles into the stream.  

      “Hmm. She is quite powerful,” Azula mused. “Too bad she chose such a terrible boyfriend.” I watched in horror as blue-colored lightning manifested from her fingertips. It sparked from her hands toward me and I felt the whole world slow down. My body felt like I was stuck in a dream, trying to run away but slowed by some invisible force. I angled myself to jump away, but caught Azula’s lightning on my side. Pain tore through my body. Muffled screams filled the air. As I started to sink down, I saw Zuko running toward me, and felt him grab my arm. My whole body became heavier and heavier until my vision washed out and I hit the ground.

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[underatedcharactersunite]

A Tale of Two Souls; Meeting Jaskier

Summary; As Geralt and Y/N continue to journey to their next location, they come across a Bard named Jaskier. From that moment onwards, Y/N's life is turned upside down. Her life is no longer envolving around fighting Monsters and exploring the world. Jaskier draws out emotions that she buried a long time ago. Who knows what's going to happen.  Pairing; Jaskier X Female Reader WordCount; 3,234 Warnings; A couple of swear words. Angst, Fluff 

Series Masterlist

Travelling with Geralt was a unique experience. On one hand, it was extremely rewarding, being able to travel to many beautiful and adventurous places, on the other hand, it often entitled getting covered in some sort of creature guts.

Apart from that Geralt's company was rather pleasant. Contrary to people's opinions about Witcher's; Geralt was not heartless nor a Monster instead, he could be kind and often put other's before himself. Over the years, Geralt had become like a brother to you, a very overprotective, menacing brother, who would willingly kill anyone, who ventured to mess with you.

"The Tavern is not too far from here. We will stop and have a drink." Looking ahead as you rode on your horse Tarot, Geralt was right, in the faint distance you could make out the Taverns silhouette.

"You mean I'll drink one while you attempt to drink the entire Tavern dry." You taunted. You were fortunate with Geralt, while he was not a massive talker, he was never easily offended. So ridiculing between the two of you was light and playful.

"You should learn to be quicker if you want more than one cup." Grinning, the two of you proceeded in silence as you made your way up towards the Tavern.

Entering any location with Geralt always had to be approached with caution. Any stranger was a potential contender for inherent conflict. The ancient tales of Witcher's had left everyone with a bitter attitude. People will often quick to require Geralt's services, yet the moment he entered the territory they deemed theirs they suddenly. considered it their right to throw stones and insults.

It occurred almost every location, the two of you visited. It disturbed you how willingly they were to ask Geralt to kill the Monster, but the second he required a place to eat or sleep they wanted nothing to do with him.

Tying up Roach and Tarot, you pressed a loving pet on Tarot's head. In the background, you could some sort of music a bard trying to get paid perhaps. Entering the Tavern, your suspicions were correct. As long as he frained an attempt to bother the two of you, he would be fine.

Taking a seat at the table in the darkest corner that was spare. You called the women over who was passing out the beverages. It was easier for you to ask, less eventuality for conflict. Removing two from her tray, you presented her with some coin to pay for them.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Geralt, I thought we already spoke of this. We take turns in paying for things. We are equal in this friendship. That means paying for things equally." Taking a sip of your mead, you acknowledged your surroundings. The Tavern wasn't all too bad. You and Geralt had frequented worst places, this by far was one of the finer ones.

"We'll have these and then go, try and find a place to camp for the night." You nodded, staying in one place was never a particularly wise idea. Besides, while the two of you stopped anyway, the two of you weren't able to find anyone who needed your services. 

Meanwhile, the Bard continued to sing. Unlike most Bards you previously encountered, this one could sing. His voice soothed your aching mind as you focused on the mead in the cup in front of you. The regulars who frequented the Tavern didn't seem to match with your opinions as they very quickly began to chuck bread rolls at him.

You attempted to force down the laughter that strived to leave your lips. Geralt's eyebrow raised as you forced your cup onto your lips to stifle your laughter. It was all fun and games, until out of the corner of your eye did you witness the Bard travel across the room over to you both.

"I love how you sit in the corner and brood, am I interrupting something?" The Bard questioned as you glanced over to Geralt. You had observed the expression on his unreadable face many times before. If only the Bard was as clued onto Geralt as you were. 

"We do not wish to be disturbed." Geralt explained, turning his head away from the Bard, while you decided to take a proper glance at him.

The Bard's eyes were a gorgeous shade of grey contrast to his brown hair which framed his face attractively. You didn't miss the thick patch of chest hair that threatened to escape his peaking from his jacket. Overall, the Bard was attractive.

"Good, yeah good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance. Except you two. Come on, you don't wanna keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me, three words or less." Observing Geralt's signature eye roll, you knew the Bard was going to deal with Geralt's coldness.

The bard seemed unphased as he took the seat right next to you, anxiously anticipating Geralt's thoughts. Geralt was unpredictable, and you had no sign on how was going to reply to the Bard.

"They don't exist."

"What doesn't exist?" The Bard appeared genuinely confused, but you knew exactly the point Geralt was about to make. Taking a sip of the mead as you observed the conversation unfold. The conversation unfolding in front of your very eyes had been the most entertaining one you'd encountered in a while.

"The creatures in your song."

"Yeah, and how would you know.” 

"Oh fun, white hair, Big old loner, two very very scary looking swords. I know who you are." As Geralt stood to remove himself from the Bard, you quickly understood it was time to go. Picking up your sword and your bag, you threw it over your shoulder and followed Geralt.

"You're the Witcher? Geralt of Rivia. So if you're Geralt, then you must be Y/N, the enchanting Shieldmaiden. I must say words cannot truly describe your beauty. Called it!"

Within moments, you recognised that while the Bard was gifted in singing and flattery, digression was not one of his gifts. A simple rest top turned into work. One of the patrons named Netty, needed a Devil killing who was stealing their grain. Knowing well enough that the creature they had witnessed was not actually "The Devil" you didn't know quite what you meant to be searching for.

Walking besides Tarot, you followed Geralt quietly. At least the two of you had seemed to rid yourself of the Bard. Although the damage had been done. You presumed it was better than having stones thrown at you, or being chucked out. Besides a job is a job after all.

"Need a hand. I've got two, one for each of the Devil's horns." Out of no-where, the Bard came running down the hill. Perhaps walking away was not a distinct enough hint that Geralt was not willing for company.

"Go away."

"I won't be but a silent backup. Look I heard your note, and yes maybe real adventures would make better stories and you Sir smell choc-full of them amongst other things. I mean what is that Onion, it doesn't matter. Whatever it is, you smell of death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak."

"It's onion."

"Right yeah. Oh, I could be your barker, spreading the tales of Geralt of Rivia, the butcher of Blaviken. What about you, my sweet lady? Surely you could tell me the many tales that the two of you have shared."

"Geralt it appears you have finally have a fan. Road life does not place well for a Bard. Go back to the Tavern. We'll deal with "the Devil"

"Jaskier, my name is Jaskier." Giving Jaskier a gentle smile, you quickened your step.

"It was lovely to meet you Jaskier, come on Tarot."  Walking away, you got several paces in-front of Geralt before he stopped. I thought he was trying to get away from Jaskier. As Geralt turned and glanced at Roach, you had a sinking feeling. This wasn't about to be pleasant.

"Come here."

A horrific thud, and a rattle of Jaskier's lute, he hunched over in agony. If that was not bad enough, Jaskier landed onto the ground with remarkable force. Credit it needed to be given you observed, Jaskier attempted to get up straight away. Against your better nature, you let go of Tarot's reigns to check on Jaskier.

"What have I told you about punching Bards? And you were my polite warnings not enough. Also, why do I get the feeling, you being punched happens a lot." Running a hand through your hair, you bent over to check on Jaskier. Surprisingly Jaskier was nothing but a little winded.

"He was following us, what else was I meant to do?" Setting eyes on Geralt, you cocked your eyebrow.

"I don't know perhaps telling him to leave us alone."

"Wasn't that exactly what you were attempting to do? With excellent failure might I add." Frowning at Geralt's words you rolled your eyes, while you directed your head to Jaskier, you did not miss the small twitch of Geralt's lips. At least someone was amused.

"Jaskier, as you have just experienced. Travelling with a Witcher is dangerous, especially to Bards. Now please return to the Tavern, where you will be safe from everything, including Geralt." Turning away from Jaskier, you mounted Tarot just like Geralt had done with Roach expecting to leave the Bard behind.

"Reading between the lines and the gut punches. Chum, I'd say you have a bit of an image problem. Were I to join you, on this feat to defeat the devil of Posada, I could I relieve you of that title. All the North would be too busy singing the tales of Geralt of Rivia the white wolf or something."

"Butcher is right." You frowned when Geralt said that. You were there when Geralt encountered Renfri you knew he had no choice. They forced him into a decision that was cruel and unfair.

"Geralt, we both know what happened that day was not your fault."

"Do you mind if I hop on there with you, I'm not exactly wearing the right footwear."

"Don't touch Roach." Several paces later, Geralt hoped off of Roach, tying her to a nearby tree. Following Geralt's actions, you joined Geralt by the tree.

"Stay alert and watch the Bard. We don't need a dead Bard on our hands." Agreeing with Geralt, you lightly touched his arm. Geralt never liked being touched, but he understood sometimes you needed to reassure him without saying anything. Following Geralt, you forgot Jaskier had recently joined the two of you.

"Geralt...Y/N...Geralt...Where are you going? Geralt, Y/N, don't leave me? Y/N I thought you were better than him. Hello. What are we looking for again?"

“Blessed Silence,”

"Yeah, I don't really go in for that." Laughter escaped your lips, walking silently alongside Geralt.

"Have you ever hunted a devil before Geralt?"

"Devil's don't exist."

"Then what are we doing?"

"Sometimes there are monsters sometimes there's money rarely both. That's the life."

Out of no-where, something darted past your head. Your senses heightened. Something or someone was out there, and they knew you were there.

“Shit!” Geralt yelled, examing Geralt understanding that as the unknown object darted past you, it had skimmed Geralt's forehead.

"Act two begins. What was that it looks like a tiny cannonball. Oh my gosh, Geralt it is a Devil. Oh, I have to see this magical this mythical-" Jaskier didn't get to finish his sentence as something hit him directly in the forehead and once again he hit the ground with a thud.

"Jaskier!"

"Stay with him I'll deal with Monster." Closing your eyes for a moment, you studied at Geralt.

"Geralt, I thought we made a deal." You contested, but Geralt was already marching away when he decided to stop and shift back to you.

"I agreed to stop hitting Bards."

"The other deal. The one where we deal with Monsters together. So neither of us die."

"I agreed to that when we didn't have to protect the Bard. That is your job. Long ago remember what we promised each other?"  

"To make this work, we needed to trust each other." With a hum, Geralt continued marching away, leaving you to deal with Jaskier. Kneeling beside him, you sighed.

"I did warn you in all fairness, but of course you didn't listen. Which means that you'll probably be staying with us, lesson one in being Geralt's companion. If something is thrown at you duck because they never throw only once."

"Lesson two, don't enter someone else's territory." An unknown voice broke your gaze on Jaskier's face. Something hard and heavy smacked your face, knocking you out.

Waking up, my body felt constricted. What happened? One moment you were giving an unconscious Jaskier his first lesson, the second you remember nothing but blackness. It didn't help someone else was trying to escape also.

"This is the part where we escape." You heard Jaskier's voice, at least he was awake, on your other side, you glanced down at the familiar black armour.

"This is the part where they kill us."

"Who's they?" A young female elf came out of no-where, kicking you directly in the face. The main was excruciating, as you opened and closed your jaw trying to get some feeling back into it. She was quick to kick both Geralt and Jaskier, not leaving anyone out.

"Elves."

"Hey that's my lute, give that back. Geralt, do ya Witchering"

"If it's that simple, do you think we'd be all tied up right now?" You snarled, trying to think of a way to get you out of this situation. Receiving another round of kicks, you glared at the female elf if you got free you swore she was going to pay for this. With the female elf speaking in Elvish, you translated it perfectly.

"Oh my elvish speech is rough I only got part of that."

"Humans shut up."

Jaskier spoke back in Elvish, and at that moment, you truly wanted to punch him.

"Do you wanna die right now?" The female elf spoke, turning in Jaskier's direction, trying to make eye contact with him.

"Jaskier, I will buy you a new lute if you just shut up."

"As opposed to later." Geralt snarled. You were beginning to wonder, how you were calm, while the other two were terrified.

"No please not the lute." All of you received another kicking, yours this time aimed perfectly at your chest.

"Leave off he's just a Bard, and she's just a young woman." Unfortunately, the female elf didn't take too kindly to Geralt's words, punches began hitting him repeatedly in the face.

"Leave him alone! What did he do to you? Nothing. We were just walking through, enjoying the scenery." The female elf stopped punching Geralt, turning her focus directly onto you.

"You don't deserve the air you breathe. Everything you touch you destroy." The female elf began to punch after punch directly across your face, but you kept still. Each punch caused the other elf in the corner to snap the lute. Throwing her knee up until your face, you hissed.

"You hide in your golden palaces, beat a bound man and a woman too scared to even look at them in the eye," Jaskier yelled as you rested your head back, working your hands to find his. This was never meant to be his problem to deal with.

"Do you like my golden Palace. Hmm, does it live up to the tales you humans tell?" As she gripped Geralt's jaw, he took the time to headbutt her. She landed a distance away from us, fair enough for the beatings to stop for now.

"Wait what's wrong with her?"

"She's sick."

"Oh, who's this?"

"He's Filavandrel, King of the elves."

"You were stealing from them." The Devil looking creature, explained the situation between the elves and the humans. How they were forced out of their homes, and have to use a Slyivian to do their bidding.

"No-one was supposed to get hurt."

"What's three humans in the ground? When countless elves have died."

"One human, the other's complicated."

"Thanks for that Geralt."

"Let them both go."

"Then Posada will know that we've been stealing. Humans will attack, many will die on both sides."

"The lesser evil. No matter what you chose, you'll come out bloody and hating yourself. Trust me." Geralt's words stung. Knowing that after all this time, he was unable to see himself just as you saw him hurt you in unimaginable ways. "Well that's the problem, I can't, and this is necessary."

"I understand, as long as you understand that it won't be long before you follow me in death."

"Yes, because they pushed us from viable soil, even chaos is polluted. Synthetically enhanced so humans can make magic."

"Chaos is the same as it's always been. Humans just adapted better."

"You say adapt, and I say destroy."

"You are choosing to starve, your cutting off your ear to spite your face."

"You think this is about pride. My elders worked with humans and got robbed of all they had. When they fought back, they were slaughtered. The great cleansing humans called it. I called it digging a mass grave. For everyone I loved. Now the humans proudly watch these fields, grow. Our babies fertilizer for their grain. I don’t wish to bury anyone else. I was once Filavandrel of the Silver towers, now I’m Filavandrel of the edge of the world. If I bring my people down from the mountains, it would mean bowing to humans. They’ll make slaves of us”

"Then go somewhere else. Rebuild, get strong again. Show the humans that you are more then what they fear you to be."

“Like you Witcher.”

"Not too long ago, I felt like you. I was angry at the entire world, the situations I was placed in. The way my life turned out. I saw the good in no-one. Until Geralt found me one day. Geralt taught me to accept everyone, no matter what they have done to you in the past." You informed Filavandrel only the top of a very long and complicated story.

“She's right. I have learnt to live with them. It wasn't easy, but I realised to live,I needed to learn to deal with them."

"Please my King there are others a new generation, of us that wish to fight. Let us take back what's ours. Starting with now." Filavandrel released his knife never in your wildest dreams could you imagine did you imagine dying with Geralt and a newfound Bard.

"Wait, the Witcher could have killed me, but he didn't. He's different. Like us." Torque was shoved aside by Filavandrel.

"If you must kill me. I am ready. But the Slyivan’s right, don’t call me human."

Hearing Geralt so willing to die, broke your heart into smithereens as you stared down in your lap to prevent anyone from the tears that escaped your eyes. You didn't need to look at Geralt to know he was currently staring at the blade. Waiting anxiously for your fate, in a way you were almost glad that Filavandrel had decided to kill you all. It was better than dealing with Geralt afterwards.

One.

Two

Three.

Thud.

[alison-anonymous]

♡ speak now ♡ varian

Speak Now ♡ Varian x Reader

Requested: no, this one was all me ;) I adore Varian, so here is a nice little imagine for you all!

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of abuse, forced marriage, TONS OF FLUFF IN THE END!

Summary: reader and Varian have been best friends since they were little and have secretly been in love with one another for a long time. Literally everyone knows but them. Reader and Varian soon became almost like family to the royal family of Corona, but as the years passed, the reader soon became engaged to a very wealthy, very abusive man who threatened to kill her if she did not agree to marry him. In this, Varian and the reader are both 18! 

♡♡♡ 

       Today was your wedding day. 

       A day full of love, laughter, fluttering butterflies in the stomach, hushed whispers, and cheers in celebration. A day that was supposed to be happy and spread joy all throughout the kingdom of Corona, just like Rapunzel and Eugene’s wedding was going to bring. Only... your wedding day was the exact opposite. 

       You stood before the three-paned mirror, staring at your reflection intensely. You wore a long, uncomfortable white gown that trailed behind you for meters and a corset so tight that you had to practically gasp in order to take in one breath of air. Your hair was done up in a very tight up do, courtesy of your soon to be step-mother, who was a very angry, very scary and powerful woman. It had seemed as if though she were trying to rip the hair out of your skull as she did your hair and makeup... You couldn’t help but grimace in disgust at your reflection. Bags hung under your eyes, and were still bloodshot from all of the nights you had spent crying yourself to sleep. Of course you didn’t want to get married to Dane Kinsley! The man was a horrid beast whose only concern in life was getting more money. The only reason why he wanted you to marry him was so that he could get the money you had inherited after your father’s death. Turns out family friends can turn out to not be friends after all...

      The room was quiet around you. Unbearably so. Mrs. Kinsley had ordered you that no one be able to see you five hours before the ceremony, not even her. So after she had gotten you all done up, she placed a pair of hand cuffs around your wrists and locked you in one of the church’s towers until the ceremony was about to begin. When you were a little girl, you had always fantasized about how all of your friends and family would be crowding around you, gushing about how beautiful you looked and how lucky Varian was to be marrying you... 

      Shit... you silently cursed in your head. You weren’t marrying Varian, were you?

      A fresh set of tears sprung into your eyes as you cast you gaze towards the barred window. The cuffs were heavy around your gloved wrists and chafed against the fabric. Funny. It was supposed to be your wedding day, and it felt like you being kept prisoner. No, you didn’t love the groom. You were in love with someone else. You had been in love with someone else for quite some time, but were always afraid to admit it. Varian, your best friend and notorious alchemist of Old Corona, was the one who held your heart. And even though you were about to get married to someone else who clearly couldn’t care less about your well being, you knew he always would have your heart.

       Of course you had thought about running away or even saying no. But that simply wasn’t an option. The second Dane proposed to you, you immediately said no. But when his mother pressed a knife against your throat and he threatened to kill you and all of your loved ones unless you married him in three days time, you knew you had no way out. You broke the news to your three good friends, Princess Rapunzel, Eugene, and Cassandra, Rapunzel’s lady in waiting. The talk when a little like this...

♡ flashback

       “YOU’RE GETTING WHAT NOW?” Eugene practically screamed in terror at your shaking form. 

       “I-I’m getting married in three days time to Dane Kinsley...” your voice was barely above a whisper, but your voice had gone hoarse from screaming and crying. Rapunzel’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hands. Cass simply stared at you with sad eyes.

       “But I thought you were in love with Varian,” Eugene said incredulously. But the second he saw the tear slip out of your eye, he immediately put two and two together.

       “Hey, hey, hey,” Rapunzel soothed as you broke down in a fit of tears in the middle of the hallway. Your sobs hurt and your cheeks burned with the hot tears that streamed down them, but you couldn’t stop crying. You had promised yourself to a man you didn’t love and now you could never get a chance to be with Varian. “N/n, it’ll be okay. We’ll get you out of this.” She gently pulled you in for a hug. You buried your face into your shoulder as you cried.

       “I-I love Varian,” you sniffled. “I love him more than anything and now I won’t ever get to be with him.”

       “Can’t you just say no?” Cass asked, concern dripping from her tone.

       “I tried,” you sobbed even harder. “He threatened to kill me if I refused.”

       The three gasped in horror as the words left your mouth. Cass and Eugene shared horrified looks as Rapunzel gently pulled you back, still holding onto your shoulders as she bore her green eyes into yours. “Y/n,” she said softly. “That’s forced marriage.”

       Your eyes widened a bit in shock. “W-what?” 

        “We can get you out of this,” Eugene answered for her, stepping in closer. “If you haven’t given your consent yet, there’s still time-”

        “No,” you rapidly shook your head, e/c eyes filling with tears once more. “He said he would kill not only me, but everyone I love if I don’t do this. I’m not putting you all in that kind of danger. Especially Varian.”

        “Especially me, what?” 

        You swiveled around to face the all too familiar voice that interrupted your speech. And there he was, his adorable blue eyes shimmering with confusion as he held a stack of books in his gloved hands. The second he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks, he instantly dropped the books, letting them clatter onto the floor, and raced to you. Gently pushing Rapunzel out of the way, he cupped your cheeks and wiped away the stray tears. You felt your heart stop with his closeness and the sparks ignite from just his closeness. Little did you know, he was feeling the exact same way. Only, his eyes were filled with concern as he stared down at you in worry.

       “What’s wrong, N/n? Please don’t cry,” he whispered the last part, neither of you noticing the soft, knowing smiles the three adults exchanged. You rested your hands on his forearms and leaned into his touch, savoring his closeness while you still had it. You loved him with all your heart. At first, you had thought it was just a silly school-crush that most girls had when their best friend was a boy. But as time went on, the feelings didn’t go away... and instead they got stronger. It was the same way for him, only he didn’t think anyone as perfect as you could ever love some nerd like him as more than a friend. You loved the little streak in his messy hair, the goggles he insisted on wearing all the time, his adorably crooked smile, his baby blue eyes, his voice, his obsession with science and all things alchemy, how he was always trying to help others. How he loved you for you and never judged you for it. Varian had been there for you when no one else was and he loved you even more than he loved his father. Varian was your everything... but you had to let him go. To save him.

       “V-Varian...” 

       You have to tell him. You owe it to him.

       “I’m getting married.” The second the words left your mouth, you could almost see Varian’s heart shatter. The floodgates opened up once more as you began to cry again, only now Varian’s eyes too filled with tears. The sight made your world come crashing down as he slowly pulled away from you, blinking in confusion. 

       “W-What did you just say?” His voice cracked, eyes never leaving you. You reached back out for him, only to have him take a step away from you, shattering your heart even more. 

       “Varian, please don’t do this,” you cried through bleary eyes. “I-I don’t want to marry him, but-” 

       “You’re getting married,” he repeated, more to himself than to anyone else as he cast his gaze down to the floor. “To someone else.” 

♡♡♡ 

       You felt like a half of you was missing staring out the window in the silence. Tears attempted to escape out your eyes, but you hastily wiped them away to avoid screwing your makeup up for the fifth time this hour. The chains clanged together as you rose your arm and rattled when you slumped them back down. The world seemed a lot darker now, you thought. And it was only going to get darker... 

       Suddenly, the sound of a bold unlocking came from the opposite side of the door. You turned slightly just as Mrs. Kinsley appeared, a hateful look plastered on her face as she marched towards you in a modest black dress. She looked like she were more dressed to attend a funeral than a wedding. 

       “I told you not to move from that spot,” she hissed, noticing how you had stepped away from the mirrors. You winced in fear as she stalked towards you, snatching your hands by the chain harshly and unlocking the cuffs. 

       “I’m sorry, miss,” you sighed with relief as your hands were free once again. “I just... wanted to look outside.” 

       “You won’t have time for that soon, brat,” she snarled, her grey eyes striking fear into your spine as she grabbed your wrist so tightly it made you yelp in pain. “Now come on, the ceremony is about to begin.”  

       It felt like only seconds before you were walking down that aisle. You had to walk down it alone, since your father was gone. You weren’t allowed to have any bridesmaids or maid of honors, which almost killed you when you were told you couldn’t have Rapunzel or Cassandra as your bridesmaids. The only people who stood at the altar were the priest, Dane, his mother, and Max who was the ring bearer. But the second the magnificent white horse saw your exhausted, heartbroken face, his ears slumped back against his head.

       The walk down the aisle was the most painful thirty seconds of your life. You clutched onto the tiny bouquet like it was your life source, and tried your best not to look at the faces as you passed them. People began muttering in concern the second they saw you. You didn’t blame them, you probably looked miserable. The only time you dared to look at the people was when you passed by the row your friends sat in. Rapunzel was clutching onto Eugene with tears in her eyes as she watched you stiffly walk past her. Cass was sorrowfully casting her glance aside and Varian... oh my god, you didn’t even expect him to show up, but there he was. Almost as if he were waiting to see you. You both locked eyes for the entirety that you walked past him, you even looking behind you as you walked towards the altar. His mouth was dropped open slightly at the sight of you in white, but the second he saw Dane, the heartbroken expression soon took over his features once more.

       Forcing yourself to look away from his beautiful blue eyes was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. You hesitated for a second, making the audience go quiet for a moment in shock. But the second Dane sent you a glare, you quickly stepped up to your position, jumping a bit when Mrs. Kinsley jabbed something hard into your side as a punishment. The organ stopped and you forced yourself to look up at Dane, who wasn’t even looking at you and was instead winking at one of the girls in the front pews. Max sent you a sorrow filled gaze, which nearly sent you into a fit of tears that even a horse knew this wasn’t meant to be.

       “Dearly beloved,” the priest began, causing everyone to shut up. “We have gathered here today for the union of two lovely people: Dane Kinsley and Y/n L/n.” The priest began his speech, but you slowly began to drown it out as you stood there with shaking knees. Thankfully the dress hid it. You ran through the process in your head, remembering that the option to object came after the I Dos, which was strange but was the way that Corona did things. As the priest continued, you glanced up at Dane once more, only to see him inspecting his cuticles purposefully, like the priest weren’t even speaking. You couldn’t remember the last time you had met someone as rude as this man. The first time you two met, he spilled wine all over your blouse and then accused you for the accident. 

       With the priest droning on in the background, you took this moment to glance out around the crowd. Some faces were smiling pleasantly, but most of the people whom you knew wore deep frowns on their lips. Even Rapunzel’s parents sent you sorrowful gazes when you made eye contact with them. You then made the mistake of finding Varian in the crowd again and connecting with him once again through just your eyes. You felt your heart stop when you noticed he wasn’t wearing his normal outfit anymore and was instead done up in a tux. You had never seen him dressed up before... and he looked undeniably handsome. A smile grew onto your lips without you even noticing, as a soft one grew across his as well. He seemed... nervous, you thought as you noticed his fidgeting. Something he only did when he was debating doing or saying somethi-

       “Do you, Dane Kinsley, take Y/n L/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Holy shit, you quickly snapped back into the horrific reality. You were at the I Dos already? A lump formed in your throat and your stomach tied into knots as you watched Dane push back his cuticles for a moment before he noticed it was his cue.

       “Huh? Oh, I do, or whatever,” he waved off the priest before going back to pricking his nails. Little did you know that Varian, who was sitting next to Rapunzel, gritted his teeth and balled up his fists in fury at the man. He just dismissed you like that? Didn’t he care that he was about to marry the most beautiful, most perfect girl on earth? 

       The priest continued. “And do you, Y/n L/n, take Dane Kinsley to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

       Silence.

       You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed as your mouth felt like cotton. You stood there, staring intensely at Dane, as images of what your future life might hold... becoming enslaved to your husband. Never being allowed to go outside without him. Having to cook, clean, and do chores for every hour of the day. Give birth to children who would only get ignored and neglected just like he would neglect you. Getting petrified by your new stepmother. Never living to see your best friends again. Never being allowed to see Varian again... 

       A lone tear slipped down your cheek, causing the crowd to gasp. Tears streamed down Rapunzel’s cheeks as she buried her face into Eugene’s chest. She couldn’t bare to see this. Varian’s heart broke as he saw your face crumple for a second. You didn’t want to do this. You would rather die than do this.

       You couldn’t do this.

       “She does,” Mrs. Kinsley’s sharp tone startled you and the crowd, as she jabbed you again, causing you to yelp a little louder than you wanted to. The King and Queen furrowed their brows in suspicion as Varian’s anger only bubbled, his brows knitting together slowly at the way they were treating his Y/n. The priest sent her a look as Dane sent you a glare that sent chills down your spine. “Don’t you, Y/n?” 

       You didn’t have a choice... with tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably, you choked out, “I-I... do...”

       Surprisingly, the crowd let out small sighs of dejection at your acceptance. You felt like your heart was going to crawl up your throat and spew out your mouth, all over the douchebag’s face. The priest then gave you your one last chance to escape... you could hope that someone would say something...

       “If anyone objects to the union of these two, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The priest’s voice boomed off of the church walls. You squeezed your eyes tight as more tears slipped down your cheeks, praying to the gods above that someone say something, anything. Seconds ticked by of silence... 

       Oh no. This was it. You were about to be tied to this monster before you... forever. The priest took a deep breath to continue and-

       “I OBJECT.” At the very last second, the voice of your savior broke through the silence. Gasps soon turned into cheers as you turned to see who was standing... and your eyes soon rested on Varian. Your heart instantly melt as you saw him, standing in the middle of the aisle with clenched fists and the most determined look you had ever seen on his face. Rapunzel was off to the side with a huge grin on her face, shaking Eugene by the shoulders.

       “Varian...” you softly whispered to yourself. The Kinsley’s started growling next to you, but they didn’t matter anymore. Varian was objecting, he truly did care about you. The priest motioned for him to continue, and the boy began to walk towards you slowly, staring you right in your eyes. And in that moment, it was like everyone else in the church disappeared until it was just you and Varian. The love of your life.

       “Y/n... I love you.” You couldn’t suppress that gasp that fell from your mouth. “I have loved you for such a long time that I can’t remember when I started and I promise you that I won’t stop loving you, not even after I die. I love everything about you. You’re beautiful, you’re funny, you’re selfless, you’re kind, you’re loving, you always see the best in people even when it’s not there. You make people want to be better. You make ME want to be better. You’ve always been there for me and you’ve never given up on me. Now I’m not going to give up on you. I know it’s taken me forever to finally tell you how I feel, and now I’m terrified that I’m too late but... You don’t belong with a menace like him. Please, Y/n...” tears brimmed his eyes as he came to a stop right before you, looking up into your eyes. “Be with me instead.”

       “awws” littered the room as Varian reached his hand out towards you. The priest cautiously closed his book, a smug smile on his face as he watched the scene unfold. You gratefully took Varian’s warm hand in yours, a grin spreading across your face as you let out a gaspy laugh. 

       “Of course I’ll be with you, Varian,” you smiled. “I love you too.” 

       Tears of happiness now brimmed at his baby blue eyes as he sent you his signature grin, his shoulders sagging with relief as he pulled you towards him. Cheers filled the room as you neared him gratefully, when suddenly someone’s hand wrapped around your forearm so tightly it made you shriek in pain. It was Dane, with a deep scowl imprinted on his face, which had now turned a tomato red in fury.

       “What the hell is this?” He snarled. Varian’s grip on your hand tightened as he quickly snaked an arm around your waist protectively. “She is MY wife. Get your fucking hands off of her.”

       “She’s not your wife,” Varian snapped, pulling your frazzled form towards him. You used your free hand to wrap around his neck while you tried to wrestle the other one free. “She belongs with me. Back off.”

       “Oh - hoho, you’re going to regret this...”

       And then he pulled a fucking crossbow out from his pocket. How the hell he got that in there remained a mystery, all you cared about was the very pointy, very dangerous object sitting inches away from your face. Then the screams started. Rapunzel, Eugene, and Cass were the first to reach your side, wrenching your arm out of Dane’s painful grip. Cass unsheathed her sword and barked to Varian, “Get her out of here! We’ll handle the Kinsleys.” 

       Varian nodded, and pushed you in front of him, but you were quick to grab his hand and pull him along with you as the two of you ran like the wind down the aisle. Varian had to hold part of your dress as you carried the other half as to not trip over it. Soon after you two had started running, the royal guards of the Kinsleys began chasing after you once Mrs. Kinsley ordered them to retrieve the bride. Varian pulled a couple vials out of his pocket and tossed them at the guards, causing an instantaneous explosion of varied neon colors that sent a few guards into shock. You giggled, a warm smile floating across your mouth. 

       “Smart move, love,” you panted due to the corset sinching around your waist. Varian sent you a wink as he pushed open the big doors. 

       “Why thank you, Milady,” he quickly turned around and slammed the doors shut, but soon fled off with you in tow. You both ran for a long time, still being chased by the guards until Varian sent Rudiger to distract them. You both finally came to a stop once your reached the corridor leading to Rapunzel’s room. You slowly slid down the wall, giggling like a mad woman as you crashed onto the floor. Varian slid down next to you, still trying to catch his breath. 

       You were having a hard time breathing due to the corset, and even though your breathing was quiet, Varian still caught notice of it. “Are you okay, love?” 

       “S-stupid corset,” you gasped out, gritting your teeth as you quickly dove your hand into Varian’s pockets inside his jacket, causing him to blush almost instantly at your closeness. You pulled out the pocket knife you forced him to keep on him just in case something bad happened, and used it to slice the strings open. The boards fell loosely against your stomach, and you let out a huge gasp as oxygen flooded into your lungs. Varian’s cheeks still remained a bright crimson as he gently turned your chin to face him, and brushed the loose strands of hair out of your face. A brief silence fell amongst you two as you simply stared into each other’s eyes. Memories flooded through your brain of all the time you had spent together... all the days you spent in his lab, helping him work on new formulas, the day he named a new element after you, the many times you ended up spending the night at his place, the countless times you ended up falling asleep on each other due to exhaustion... it was Varian. It was always Varian.

       “Did you mean everything you said back there?” You whispered, suddenly noticing how close you were to each other. If you inched a little closer, your noses would be touching.

       Varian let out a bashful chuckle, and scratched the back of his neck. “I mean... yeah, of course I did... do-do you feel the same? I mean it’s totally alright if you don’t want to be with-”

       “Varian,” you interrupted, not being able to help the grin that formed on your face. He stopped and stared at you with those gorgeous wide eyes of his, his bangs falling slightly over one of his eyes. You leaned in closer, and gently touched your nose against his, making him jump slightly. “I said it before, but I’ll say it again. I love you too. Thank you for saving me.”

       “It was the least I could do,” he smirked, and before you could utter another word, he swooped in and pressed his lips against yours. You froze for a moment in shock, but soon melted into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Varian had saved you from making one of the hugest mistakes of your life, and you were pretty certain he was never going to let you forget it. 

       But as long as you had Varian, nothing else mattered ♡ 

♡ a.a.

[ranma-rewatch]

Episode 21: This Ol' Gal's the Leader of the Amazon Tribe!

*checks watch* Oh, hey, it’s time for more Ranma 1/2! Hope things are going well for you, person reading this. I’m...fairly sure I know what’s coming? I just don’t really remember exactly how it happens. Will I like it? Will I not? We’ll have to see, next paragraph, after I’ve seen the episode again.

That was...not what I was expecting? This storyline is both moving much faster and much slower than I remember, if that makes any sense. How? Well, let me recap it a bit first.

The episode starts with someone flying into the city on birds. More specifically, a bunch of small birds supporting a larger bird who doesn’t seem to fly, and the person is riding on that bird. It’s weird. She arrives in a construction zone, an old woman with a walking stick taller than she is, and she says something about looking for her son-in-law. Actually, she says it a lot. A steel girder almost falls on her head, but she hits it with her stick in mid-air, shattering the metal into dust, before running off.

It cut from that to Ryoga attacking Ranma. Why? Well, Ryoga doesn’t really need a reason, but this time he does. Namely, the whole Ranma kissing Akane thing from the last episode. Of course, Ranma was in cat-mode at the time and doesn’t remember it at all, no matter how much Ryoga tells him it’s real. After Ryoga gets splashed with cold water, Ranma is then attacked by Sasuke and Kuno for the same reason, and combined with piglet-form Ryoga’s help, Ranma actually gets kinda beat up in the process.

Heading back to the home, he realizes that Akane’s probably mad if it is true, and we see her in the dojo, but she isn’t really working out the way she usually does when she’s mad. If anything, Akane seems conflicted. Ranma shows up to talk about it with her, and immediately apologizes. Akane asks if he remembers doing it, and he admits he doesn’t. Then, Akane wonders, did it not matter? Would Ranma have kissed anyone, and it just happened to be her?

Not understanding what is going on, Ranma stumbles over answering too long, until Akane starts actually getting riled up, calling him a flirt. That pisses Ranma off, so they get into an argument. There’s also a scene where their dads are playing shogi, and they wonder about that pink cat Shampoo sent them, especially since it’s unlikely she knew about Ranma’s fear of felines.

The answer to that comes as Ranma goes to take a nice, hot bath to clean off after the fights he’s had. The cat jumps in with him, and before he can freak out about his greatest fear being in the room, Shampoo emerges from the bath right where the cat had been, and she’s very naked. Yep, the cat was her that whole time!

In a case of Ultimate Bad Timing, Akane comes to take a bath herself and sees Ranma in the bath with a naked Shampoo. We cut directly from that to Ranma practicing what to tell Akane later. Namely, that he won’t apologize or back down, instead being firm on the fact that it wasn’t what it looked like and he did nothing wrong. And we wonder why Ranma has relationship problems.

Akane appears, and she seems fine...before knocking Ranma into a pond. Not long after the water changes him into his cursed form, the old lady from the beginning appears, and Ranma has a very hard time fighting her. She won’t explain who she is or why she’s fighting him, then disappears. That felt...a bit pointless, honestly.

Later, Shampoo comes by the house again, with food. It seems she has moved to Japan officially, and lives and works at a nearby ramen shop. As everyone’s eating the food, the old woman shows up again, taking a place at the table to eat. It’s revealed that she is Shampoo’s great-grandmother, named Cologne, and she’s there to make sure that Shampoo and Ranma get married. Soun fires back about the engagement Ranma already has to Akane, but Shampoo seems to think she has a good argument for why she should be the one to take Ranma’s hand.

She takes him into the bathroom and uses cold water to turn back into a cat, and it’s revealed exactly what happened. Heading back to China, she was shamed for failing to either kill or marry Ranma, and thus had to train with Cologne. They did that at Jusenkyo, for some reason, and Shampoo fell into the Spring of Drowned Cats. So, apparently the curse is Ranma’s fault, and thus he has to marry her. He rightfully points out that’s utter nonsense, but Cologne doesn’t care.

They fight for a bit, with Cologne showing off one of those moves where it looks like there are a bunch of her but only one is real. Ranma uses food and Cologne’s hunger to figure out the real one, but that doesn’t really matter. She’s a bit impressed by him, but still knows he’s far too inexperienced to ever really stand a chance against her. Then she hits him with her stick, and says something about how he’ll be begging to marry Shampoo in a few days.

Why is that? Well, it seems she did something quite diabolical. She apparently hit a pressure point that has caused Ranma to be incredibly sensitive to water. Even cold water feels boiling hot, but it still activates his curse. To turn back to his preferred form, he’d need to use hot water, but with how sensitive his skin is, hot water would be torture to endure. Thus, he can’t turn back into his uncursed state unless he does exactly what Cologne tells him.

Let me start with the stuff I like about this episode. First off, this is a really interesting way to build a story arc that’s very different from the ones that came before. All the story arcs in season one were pretty typical for anime. Each event led directly to the next, it all felt like single stories that just took multiple episodes to tell.

But if you didn’t know the last episode was part of a story arc, you wouldn’t guess that to be the case. It felt like a single-stand alone episode. And it kind of was. Only two things really carried over: Shampoo the Cat being mailed to them, and Ranma kissing Akane at the end of the episode. In fact, when I saw Ryoga and Ranma fighting, it took me a second to realize what they were talking about, because I didn’t think that event from last episode would be carried over.

I really like how it was done, though. The show made it pretty clear that Akane was feeling some feelings about the whole thing, but Ranma was too caught up in the idea that she’d just be plain angry about it to miss what she was really telling him. She wanted him to tell her that actually it did mean something that in his cat-state, he still sought her out and was affectionate towards her. She didn’t want it to be meaningless. That’s really cute, and the miscommunication there was less annoying than it sometimes is and more adorable. Free relationship tip: learning how to properly communicate to your partner is really important!

The concept of finally introducing a character who is actually a better fighter than Ranma is good. Cologne isn’t Ryoga or Shampoo or Kuno. He can’t just beat her in a cool fight, she’s far more experienced and skilled, something that from here will kind of drive the entire arc. The fact that Shampoo ended up with a cursed form that Ranma finds so terrifying is also interesting. She’s kind of scary to him anyway, this unrelenting force who won’t leave him alone no matter what he does, so making her cursed form that but to the tenth degree is pretty neat.

Last good thing: I really love how nonchalant Kasumi is with Shampoo. Like, to her it’s just like, “Oh, Shampoo! You’re back, that’s lovely, do you want to stay for a meal?” Either Kasumi doesn’t understand the complex romance plot going on, or she does and finds it not reason to stop being a good host.

What didn’t I care for? Well, like I said at the start, it feels like this arc is moving too fast and too slow at the same time. In one episode, this story resolves the Akane/Ranma kiss from last episode, the mystery of the pink cat, introduces a new focal player in the story, and curses Ranma with something he’ll have to fix. That’s a lot to happen, and I was really shocked the pressure point thing happened in this episode too.

But at the same time...I really found my interest waning in the back half of this episode. The Cologne fight just isn’t super gripping, to me anyway, especially when the technique she uses just feels very bland. There’s a good five or so minutes, about a quarter of the runtime of the episode, that I was just bored in.

I also like reintroducing Shampoo, only three episodes after she left, was a bit of a mistake, especially when she’s basically a main character from here on out. I know she was very popular, but even then giving the audience some time away from her let’s them miss her, if that makes any sense.

There was originally going to be a Cologne based Character Spotlight, but then I decided not to because we still haven’t seen a lot from her, and also I’m very tired and my birthday was Monday please stop bullying me

So, yeah, if you couldn’t tell I’m kind of meh on this episode. It’s not bad. It’s not great. I enjoyed the first half quite a bit, but the back half was a little more of a struggle. It was in fact a big enough dip that I’m putting this episode fourth from the bottom, just above the P-Chan introduction episode.

Episode 7: Enter Ryoga, the Eternal ‘Lost Boy’  

Episode 12: A Woman's Love is War! The Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 15: Enter Shampoo, the Gung-Ho Girl! I Put My Life in Your Hands

Episode 9: True Confessions! A Girl's Hair is Her Life!

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around

Episode 19: Clash of the Delivery Girls! The Martial Arts Takeout Race

Episode 6: Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen, You Know

Episode 13: A Tear in a Girl-Delinquent's Eye? The End of the Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 17: I Love You, Ranma! Please Don’t Say Goodbye

Episode 20: You Really Do Hate Cats!

Episode 16: Shampoo's Revenge! The Shiatsu Technique That Steals Heart and Soul

Episode 8: School is a Battlefield! Ranma vs. Ryoga

Episode 11: Ranma Meets Love Head-On! Enter the Delinquent Juvenile Gymnast!

Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 5: Love Me to the Bone! The Compound Fracture of Akane's Heart

Episode 1: Here’s Ranma

Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

Episode 21: This Ol' Gal's the Leader of the Amazon Tribe!

Episode 10: P-P-P-Chan! He's Good For Nothin'

Episode 14: Pelvic Fortune-Telling? Ranma is the No. One Bride in Japan

Episode 18: I Am a Man! Ranma's Going Back to China!?

But hey, maybe things will be different next time? I’m actually pretty sure I’ll like it better, because now we’re really getting into the stuff I can remember. Namely, Ranma is going to be introduced to what will be his signature technique in “Behold! The 'Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire' Technique”. I’ll be there next week, and I hope you will too.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

It's been awhile, hasn't it? Could you please write furious Arthur headcanons? His s/o had been kidnapped by another gang ( your choice) and write him a ransom but he doesn't give them anything, except a killing spree. He's bloodthirsty.

Okay, I only wrote 13 pages and the second half I did while being extremely tired (my fault for having too much caffeine before going to sleep). I hope it isn’t total garbage. 

Warnings: swearing, torture, mentions of attempted rape, blood

Breathe

It’s early morning, the sun’s just risen and you’re kneeling next to the fire. You and Arthur found this place to camp last night while heading back to Shady Belle. It’s not too far from Clemens Point, the campsite the gang deserted a few weeks back thanks to the Pinkertons finding it. Arthur approached you a few days ago, stating he needed to get away from the swamps and that godforsaken city Saint Denis, so you went with him. 

You’re fairly certain Arthur’s sweet on you. Nothing conclusive, of course. It’s just a look here and there, a touch. The way he talks to you. The fact that you’re the only person he invites to come on these hunting trips. You know he has no qualms about going alone. He used to go out by himself for days on end, coming back with loads of pelts and herbs. That was when you first joined though. The past couple of months, he’s liked you to come along. 

You’re sweet on Arthur too. He’s a complicated man, capable of great measures of violence and gentleness. You’ve seen him be kind one second and become scary as hell the next. However, it was his gentleness and his devotion to the gang that first captured your attention. He’d move mountains for most of the gang members, particularly Dutch, Hosea and the other girls. You hope he’d do the same for you, and something tells you he would. Once you got to know him a little better, it didn’t take long for you to develop feelings for him. It was then that you also noticed how handsome he was and there were many nights you went to sleep pretending to be nestled in his arms. 

Arthur’s out now, probably hunting or gathering herbs. You like to sleep in later than he does, so you’re not worried. You straighten your shirt and run your fingers through your hair before pouring yourself a cup of coffee. Once you’re a little more awake, you’ll get your bow and go find him. 

The energy in the air shifts suddenly. Or perhaps it’s just the wind, but something feels wrong. You remember once in Big Valley being stalked by a cougar. This feeling is the same, but there are no large predators down this far south. Not that you know of, anyways. You look around the wide clearing and into the trees. There seems to be nothing. So why does it feel so strange?

Without warning, a lasso floats over your head and around your middle, binding your arms to your sides. The rope jerks, slamming you down onto the ground and you begin to panic. Three men, whooping and hollering, come running up. They’re wearing old soldiers’ uniforms. 

Breathe

“You sure she’s the one, Curtis? Part of that gang that took Shady Belle?” the one holding the rope that binds you says. 

A slightly fat man with a big white beard approaches you, grabbing your face hard and he peers at you. “She’s definitely with that gang. I seen her before. That big feller you with, he the gang leader?” he directs the question at you. 

Lemoyne Raiders. No question about it. You knew you hadn’t seen the last of them after Dutch robbed them of their hideout. 

“I ain’t runnin’ with no other feller,” you lie. “Just myself and my horse.” 

“Then how you explain the two bedrolls? You also got enough supplies to take care of two people.” 

You swallow. “I… I like to carry a lot of supplies. Sell them sometimes. You in the market?” 

The man grabs your collar and swiftly punches you, causing starts to blink in your vision. 

“Now tell the truth, girl!” the man hollers. 

You glare up at him and spit blood in his face. “I ain’t tellin’ you a damn thing.”

“Fine, but you ain’t gonna like the alternative.” The man flips you onto your back, binding your hands and feet together. The man named Curtis hollers again back at the other two. “Come on, boys. We’ll take her to our new place. Make her hungry.” 

“But what use is she gonna be to us?” the third man says. He has a rather stupid look to him and his eyes are too far apart. 

“Easy. That feller she’s runnin’ with. I doubt he’s gone far,” Curtis points out. “We’ll leave him a little note. Adam, you know how to write, you’ll make it up. Put down that we want Shady Belle back and $1000 with it. Either that, or we’ll send them a gift made out of this pretty lady’s skin.” 

The men chuckle darkly and you’re beginning to panic. You’re just about to scream for Arthur when Curtis kneels down, takes his pistol out, and slams the butt of it into your head, forcing you into a world of darkness. 

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

Arthur makes his way back to the little make-shift camp. It’s nearly noon; he’s surprised you haven’t caught up with him yet. You’ve never slept in this late. Maybe you’re not feeling well. His horse’s saddlebags are bursting with herbs, Grimshaw will be happy at least. 

He hums softly to himself, excited that your face will be the first one he sees today. You have the brightest and warmest smile he’s ever seen. He’d pay an unimaginable amount to wake up to seeing that smile of yours everyday. He wants nothing more than to ask you out to dinner or some other date, but he’s terrified. No way could someone like you be interested in a dirty, violent outlaw like himself. 

He sees the pillar of smoke that marks your camp and his humming changes to whistling. Maybe today he’ll finally find the courage to ask you out. Unlikely. All you have to do is smile and his legs turn to jelly. Still, he loves your company. The way you point out the beauty of the world where all he once saw was the ugliness of it. Your face litters many of the pages in his journal. If only you knew how many. Probably a good thing you didn’t, he thought, otherwise you’d go running for the hills. 

He walks his horse slowly up the last small rise towards camp. When he sees it, he’s confused. You’re not there, but your horse is still tied to the small tree you hitched her to the previous night. Maybe you’ve gone to pick herbs not too far away or you’re fishing at the lake, which isn’t far either. However, when he gets closer and he sees the blood, he knows you’re in trouble. He hops off his horse and inspects the camp, looking for any clue to what happened. He finds the note. “Give us Shady Belle and $1000 or the girl dies. Deliver alone. LR.” 

His breathing becomes suddenly rapid and his hands begin to shake. He crumples the letter in his hand, the edges of his vision turning red. How dare those bastards touch a single hair on your head? He was angry when he learned young Jack had been kidnapped. It’s nothing compared to the seething hatred he feels now. He quickly throws down camp, grabs your horse and then gallops back to Shady Belle. Dutch will surely help him. 

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

Breathe. 

You’re being dragged by the rope binding your feet. Your head aches and you crack your eyes open. An old, boarded-up house looms above you and you’re flanked by over half a dozen men, all in Confederate uniforms. The man dragging you stops and you look to your left and see the burned skeleton of a barn. 

“What the hell she doin’ here, Curtis?” a slightly fat, balding man demands. Based on his uniform, you’d guess he’s the boss of this group. 

“She’s with that gang who took Shady Belle. We left a note for her companion to give it back and an extra $1000, otherwise we’d send her back in a condition they ain’t gonna like.” 

“You damn fool, Curtis!” the man growls. “And when the entire gang comes up to get her, then what?” 

“We wrote her friend a note to come alone when deliverin’ the money. He ain’t gonna be a problem, Richard.” 

“He better not be. Still, I would enjoy seein’ at least one of those traitors who robbed us suffer. That was our goddamn home.” Richard looks to the house and then back to you. “Put her in the basement.” 

Breathe.

The man holding your feet begins dragging you again towards the house. You grunt loudly as he hauls you up the front steps and they scratch against your back. You start struggling, trying to grab onto anything that might give you an edge. Curtis, who’s walking behind you, grabs your hands and picks you up so now you’re being carried between the two men. 

They drop you in a room with a fireplace, a fire burning inside it. Richard enters the room, shooing most the other men out except for Curtis and the man still holding her feet. He orders them to strip you. You start fighting, but Richard and the other man pin you down as Curtis rips off your clothes, leaving you in your undergarments. 

“You wanna go further?” he asks Richard, a hungry look in his eyes that leaves you feeling cold. 

“Not yet. If they don’t show up with the money in a day or two, we’ll have some fun with her.”

Curtis looks disappointed, but he and the other man pick you up again and Richard opens up a door in the floor. They carry you down into a cellar. There are three pillars, chains attached to them. This house clearly used to keep slaves down here before the Civil War ended. 

The men drop you onto the stone ground and then Richard pulls out two pairs of handcuffs. He binds your hands together and then your feet. Then he forces you to your feet and stretches your arms up, attaching the chain holding your hands together to an old hook hanging from the rafters of the ceiling. It leaves you barely standing on your toes. 

“Get out of here, you two,” Richard says to the other men. Again, they look disappointed but they comply. Richard turns back to you. “Now, you’re gonna tell me about this little gang of yours.” 

“I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’,” you growl. 

He chuckles and takes out a knife. “Maybe not yet, but you will.” 

Breathe. 

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

Arthur stomps into camp, still in a fury. He goes to Dutch and explains your predicament. 

“We ain’t givin’ those animals money, Arthur,” Dutch says. 

“No of course we ain’t. But we need to find her. Gather the men, let’s go hunt her down before those bastards have a chance to hurt her.” 

Dutch stands up, glaring at Arthur. He’s never tried to boss Dutch around and he won’t accept it. “No, Arthur. I need them to do work and I know you’re sweet on Y/N, Arthur, but she ain’t exactly Jack.”

Arthur’s vision has remained red the entire time since he found your ransom note but it intensifies when he hears Dutch’s words. “What, because she ain’t a kid who represents the potentials of the future, she ain’t worth savin’?!” 

“Arthur, that ain’t what I’m saying,” Dutch says quickly. Although he knows Arthur’s loyalty would never waver, he knows exactly what Arthur’s capable of. “We’ll get her before she can talk, but I just need a little more time.” 

“She ain’t gonna talk, Dutch. She’s as loyal to you as any of us.” 

“I don’t know that, Arthur. She’s only been with us for a few months and who knows what they’ll do to her. You’d be surprised how quickly people break when subjected to torture.” 

Arthur clenches his fist and Dutch takes a step back. “I’m goin’ after her, Dutch, right now whether you like it or not. I’m gonna kill all them bastards. But if she’s dead, Dutch, I’m gonna tear everything-”

“Alright, Arthur,” Dutch says quickly, knowing how easily Arthur could hurt him if he really wanted to. “Take two men, go find her.” 

Arthur stomps out of the house, still furious that no one else cares about you as much as he does. He grabs Charles and John and rides back to where your camp was in order to track you down. 

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

Breathe. 

The inside of your upper left arm burns something terrible. At least the bleeding has stopped. Richard tried getting information out of you, kicking and slapping you when you refused. After two hours of attempted interrogation, he lost his temper and carved the word “traitor” into your arm. The pain was indescribable. He left you alone to hang from your wrists after that, clearly needing a break. 

It’s been at least half a day since you saw anyone. You’re thirsty and your wrists hurt like crazy from holding a good portion of your weight, the manacles digging into your skin. 

The cellar door at the top of the stairs opens again and Richard walks down. He’s alone but he’s already pulled out his knife. 

“You gonna talk, traitor?” he growls. 

“Fuck off, you piece of shit,” you spit back. 

He narrows his eyes and rubs his thumb across the blade. “You know, a few years ago, another gang came through here. Guess they wander a lot, don’t stick in one place for more than a few weeks. Called themselves the Skinners. I saw the things they did to the folk they caught. Even learned a thing or two. Trust me, girl, you wouldn’t like any of the ideas I got for you.”

He glares at you. Fear rips through your gut but you won’t give in so easily. Someone will come for you, you’re sure of it, and you’re more scared of what Dutch will do if you talk and he finds out. 

“Do your worst,” you say, a tear sliding down your cheek. 

Richard curls his lip and then slams his knife down into your thigh, making you scream. “Talk, girl,” he demands again. You quiet down, more tears falling. “Talk!” he hollers, twisting the knife which only makes you scream more. He twists, pulls and pushes the knife, trying to work anything out of you. Then, he yanks the knife out, blood spilling out of your thigh. 

“You’re gonna say somethin’! I don’t care how much you’ve whored yourself to those men, you’re gonna break.” 

You can do nothing but cry as your thigh bleeds freely. Richard reaches up and drags the tip of the knife from your neck to your collarbone, finally cutting into your chest. He draws a shallow line, making you scream again. 

Finally, Richard seems to have enough after cutting you in multiple places across your arms and legs. He huffs insults at you and then marches up the stairs. 

Breathe.

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

At the campsite, Charles picks up a trail of three horses, most likely your captors'. It’s an old trail but he manages to pick it up just fine. Arthur’s still furious and desperate to find you. 

John tries to encourage him. “We got Jack back, Arthur. We won’t have any problems finding her.” 

He couldn’t be more wrong, though. The men who captured you almost seemed to not know where they were going. The trail winds in several circles and sometimes even turns back to the way they’d come, almost like they were afraid of leaving a trail. 

The hunt lasts for hours and the sun begins to set. Charles tells Arthur to rest, but he refuses, stating you certainly don’t have that luxury. He won’t either, not until you’re safe. Charles and John decide not to argue. They know how Arthur feels about you, and how afraid he is of losing you. They agree to go on.

The trail heads further east towards the swamps and then, after hours of following, it turns west again, back towards Scarlett Meadows. Arthur’s even more furious. What the hell were those animals trying to do when they captured you? Charles asks for the note they’d left him, wondering if it could give any clues to where you are. Arthur says there’s nothing but hands him the note anyways. 

“LR,” Charles says. 

“Lemoyne Raiders,” John explains. “We drove them out of Shady Belle.”

Charles nods and his face is deep in thought. “Where would a gang that large go after losing their main hideout?” 

Arthur pulls out a map and inspects it. There’s few buildings that aren’t in a town or a city that are large enough to house a gang. Then he sees a place on the map in the direction the trail is leading. He recognizes it from when Uncle found a lead on a stage that was owned by Cornwall. They’d hid in the barn of the house and it got burned down. Shortly afterwards, he met the former owner, an ex slave catcher. He remembers the old cellar with chains on the pillars, ledgers of slaves and a slave’s old journal describing getting caught. 

“There, Compston’s Stead. My money’s on there.” 

John looks at the map and nods. “Seems big enough. Right in the middle of their territory.” 

“Let’s go,” Charles says, but Arthur’s already riding off. The group gallops through the night, the horses snort and sweat from being pushed so hard. They enter the woods right outside Comspton’s Stead and finally pull to a stop. It’s nearly dawn, the eastern horizon turning light. Arthur dismounts and pulls out his shotgun. 

“We need to come up with a plan,” John says. “What are we doin’, Arthur?” 

“Kill ‘em all,” Arthur says and then starts walking towards the house. Charles and John call for him, stating the obvious flaws in this idea, but Arthur ignores them. All he knows is they’ve undoubtedly tortured you and done God knows what else and he’s going to rip them all to shreds. 

He stops at the edge of the trees and, sure enough, there’s tents and wagons around the house and burnt barn. Hardly anyone’s awake, but two men are sitting around a campfire, sipping coffee. They’re clearly supposed to be on guard as they hold rifles, but they’re taking a break. Arthur aims his shotgun and fires, the slugs slamming into the chest of one of the men. The other hops up, only to be knocked back by another shot fired by Arthur. 

The other men start getting out of their tents, but they’re disoriented from being asleep. Some are still pulling their pants or hats on, wielding pistols or rifles. 

“Raiders!” Arthur screams, reloading his shotgun. “You’re dead, you sons of bitches! Where is she?” 

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

You’re dozing, somehow able to get a bit of rest despite the immense pain flowing constantly throughout your body. There isn’t a part of you that doesn’t hurt, but you’re so tired you’re managing to fade out of consciousness to a point and sleep a little. That is until you hear the cellar door open. You look up and out the small window near the ceiling. The sky’s turning light. Richard walks down the stairs, his eyes dark and hungry. He closes the cellar door behind him.

Breathe. 

“You gonna talk, whore?” he growls. 

“Do your worst,” you say again, your voice no more than a soft grunt. You’re so thirsty and weak it’s all you can manage. 

“Oh I plan too. You are a pretty thing. Shame you’re makin’ me carve you up like this.” He stands in front of you and raises his hand, dragging a finger from your shoulder and all the way down your body. The way he touches you is the absolute worst torture and you suddenly realize what he’s thinking of doing. 

He grabs the top of your bloomers and begins to pull down. “Obviously knives ain’t workin’ on you. Maybe I can… squeeze your words out of you another way,” he whispers in your ear. You clench your legs together as hard as you can, but in your position you don’t have much power over what happens to you. 

Richard reaches a hand up to lift your chemise when a sudden explosion echoes outside. It’s coming from the woods. Richard steps away quickly and looks out the window. 

Another explosion and men begin shouting. You hear a man hollering a slew of insults. There’s anger in his voice, but it’s different than the anger in Richard’s voice. A kind of desperation lingers behind it. 

“Son of a bitch,” Richard growls. He pulls out his pistol and stands close to you. “Don’t worry, whore. He ain’t gettin’ to you.” 

Breathe. 

You want to cry out. You recognize those explosions well enough to know they’re coming from a shotgun. Someone has come for you. You have to believe it. 

“Help!” you try calling out, but your voice is so weak it’s hardly more than a whisper. 

“Shut up,” Richard grunts. You call out again and he slams the butt of his pistol in your face, cutting your cheek. 

The air outside echoes with more shots, more screaming. You don’t know how long it continues, but then it suddenly stops. Richard shuffles nervously, his thumb brushing against the hammer of his pistol. He stares up at the closed cellar door. You can see the sweat dripping down his face. 

The cellar door swings open, light streaming in and blinding you. Richard hesitates and then points his pistol at your head. 

“Come any closer, she dies,” he says. 

The person at the top of the stairs darts down them. You gasp when you see Arthur and he’s wielding a rusty old sword. He’s too fast for Richard and he swings the sword down and into Richard’s shoulder, burying it deep. Richard drops the pistol and falls to the ground, Arthur on top of him. 

Arthur pulls out his knife and slashes Richard’s throat, and he gurgles as the blood flows from his open neck. Arthur watches him for a second, his shirt speckled in Richard’s blood. Then he turns and looks at you, a fire raging in his eyes. 

Breathe.

“Ar-Arthur,” you groan. He gets up and grabs your wrists, unhooking them from the rafters. You sigh when your weight finally goes to your feet but you’re so weak you fall against Arthur. He grabs you and holds you tight, kneeling down so you don’t have to stand. He cradles your head against his chest, his other arm tight around your back. 

“I got ya, girl. You’re safe now,” he whispers, his voice gentle compared to the violence that he’d just committed. 

You take in a deep breath, his scent of pine and leather flooding your nostrils and then you begin to cry. You sob into his shirt and he just holds you, rubbing circles into your back. He releases you only for a moment to take out a lockpick and take the cuffs off your wrists. When your hands are free, you latch onto him as hard as you can. 

“You’re safe, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ gonna hurt ya now.” 

He sighs, his arms folding tightly around you. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, wanting to shut out the world. You swear his lips brush your forehead. 

“Come on, sweetheart. We need to get you out of here.” 

He starts pulling away, but you latch onto him. You feel cold and you’re terrified from everything that’s happened. He’s warm and he represents safety, protection. 

“Easy, girl. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Just need to get these off your feet.” 

He lays you down on your back as gently as he can and then unlocks the cuffs around your feet. He’s back near your head and he picks you up, cradling your head to his neck again as he carries you up the stairs. You’re blinded from having been down in that cellar for you don’t even know how long. He walks slowly as to not cause you more pain and your eyes adjust to the light. 

Curtis and the man who dragged you lie dead in the living room, their bodies resting in pools of blood. Outside, you’re blinded again but you have an easier time adjusting to the light. There’s more corpses. Charles and John are looting the bodies and camp for anything they can use. They straighten up when they see Arthur carrying you. 

“Is she…” Charles begins. 

“She’s alive,” Arthur says with a shaky voice. “She’s in bad shape though. We need to get her home.” 

Arthur calls his horse and, with John’s and Charles’s help, lifts you onto the horse, which is extremely painful on your leg. You grunt and gasp in pain and Arthur says words of encouragement. He climbs up behind you and wraps a protective arm around you, grabbing the reins in his other hand. He says nothing to the other two and pushes his horse into an easy canter towards camp. The pain is too much as it rips through your body in fresh waves and sends you into a relieving world of darkness. 

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

Arthur arrives back at camp, followed by Charles and John. You passed out within only a few moments of riding, to which he’s grateful for. It meant you would have to endure less pain. Once he stops his horse, John holds you up as he gets off his horse. John makes to slide you off, but Arthur pushes him away and pulls you into his arms. 

Grimshaw’s making a huge fuss, ordering people around to get medical supplies. Dutch walks over to him and is about to say something when Arthur snaps at him. “I don’t wanna hear about it right now, Dutch. She ain’t outta the woods yet.” 

Grimshaw tries to tell him to drop you off on your own bedroll, which is positioned by Karen’s and Mary-Beth’s on the ground, but Arthur says it would be best if you were on an elevated bed, somewhere secluded and warm. He hauls you up to his room and puts you onto his bed. Grimshaw abruptly shoves him out of the warm so she and the girls can change your clothes and begin working on you. 

Most of your cuts and wounds are okay and don’t require stitches, including the carved word on your arm. Your leg is a different situation. The wound is deep and jagged and it’s still bleeding, though not profusely. Grimshaw says the best option would be to cauterize it instead of risk it getting infected. Karen brings her a candle and some gunpowder. 

Arthur’s standing outside his door, pacing near it. He’s terrified to hear about your condition but prays he got to you in time. He’s still wearing his bloody clothes, but as he’s not allowed into his room to change, he doesn’t care. Dutch and Hosea are with him, telling him encouragements. They’re helping until he hears you scream. 

Dutch grabs Arthur as he tries barging through the door to get to you. Arthur’s fighting hard though, so Dutch calls Bill and Charles. It takes all three men to prevent Arthur from going into his room to see you. He yells at them to let him go and after a few moments, Grimshaw comes out, looking furious. 

“Mr. Morgan, she won’t ever be able to get some rest with you screeching this!”

“What the hell are you doin’ to her?” he demands. 

“Fixin’ her leg. Think she’ll be fine and she’s asleep again.” 

“Let me see her.” 

“No,” Grimshaw says. “We’re almost done. Now how about you make yourself useful and get some fresh clothes for her. Bring up some food and water for when she wakes up.” 

Arthur growls but he’s relieved to have something to do. The others let him go and he does what Grimshaw says. She snatches the clothes out of his hand and then slams the door in his face. 

“Come on, son,” Hosea says, patting Arthur on the back. “Let’s get you calmed down. That’s the best thing you can do for her right now. She couldn’t be in better hands.” 

Arthur nods and lets Hosea and Dutch lead him into the sitting room where Dutch keeps the donation box. They get him some whiskey and some food, encouraging him to eat. 

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

You don’t know how long it’s been since Arthur saved you. The events leading up to it were terrifying and awful, but the feeling of his arms around you was one of the best things you’ve ever felt. You remember how his warmth seeped into you. 

Breathe.

You notice you’re mostly on your stomach and right side in an upright position. There’s an odd mixture of warm and cool throughout your body and you’re propped against something that's almost hot. You breathe in and smell pine and leather, just like Arthur smelled when he saved you. As you dip again into that memory, the pain of your body begins coming back to you. 

You stir a bit and something moves against your back, rubbing softly. That’s when you feel arms wrapped around you. Your eyes creak open and you look up to see Arthur staring down at you. He sighs as though in relief. 

“Hey, darlin’,” he says. “Thank God you’re awake.” 

Despite the pain, you smile a bit and open your mouth to say something, but your voice doesn’t want to work. 

“Take it easy, sweetheart,” he says. One of his arms unwinds around you, leaving you a little cold. Then he hands you a tin cup full of water and he helps you drink it slowly. When the water’s gone, you start to remember the things that happened to you. 

“Arthur, I… I didn’t say anything to them,” you say, a sob working its way up your chest. He folds his arms around you again. 

“I know, darlin’, I know. Don’t worry about that, okay? Those bastards who hurt you are all dead, they can’t do that again.” 

The shock of the last few days comes to you and you begin to shiver, despite the humidity and the heat from the swamps outside. Arthur grabs the blanket on the bed packed against the wall and drapes it over you. 

“You’re okay, darlin’. I got ya, ain’t gonna let you go.” His words flow over you and the sob finally reaches your throat. He rubs your back as you cry into his chest again. You can’t understand why those men did such horrible things to you. It’s not like you had any hand in taking the manor from them. 

“Why, Arthur?” you sob. “Why’d they do that?” 

He sighs and brushes his lips against your forehead. “I don’t know, honey. They were evil men. You did nothing wrong and you didn’t deserve it, okay? Don’t ask yourself ‘why me’.” 

You nod and nestle closer into him, your left hand clutching onto the collar of his shirt, noticing the bandage around your wrist. He’s wearing his blue shirt but removed his black scarf, leaving the top three buttons undone. He’s done this before and you always struggled to avert your eyes from his exposed chest. However, you press your cheek to his bare skin. The physical contact is soothing and calming. He places a soft kiss on your forehead.

That takes you by surprise. You open your eyes and look up at him. “Arthur?” 

“Sorry,” he says, blushing. “I just… I was terrified I wouldn’t get to ya in time. That mornin’ they took you, I um, I was going to ask you somethin’ but they got you before I could.” 

He’s terrified and surprised he’s even asking you in the first place. However, when you were kidnapped, he knew he wanted you in his daily life. He was in love with you, he couldn’t deny that. He pauses for a moment, pondering what to say. If you tell him you’ve no interest in being with him, that’s going to make things incredibly awkward. 

“Arthur?” you say gently, your fingers delicately brushing his chest. “What were you going to ask?” 

“I um,” he hesitates again. He can’t look you in the face, his cheeks burn hot. “I was gonna ask ya if… If I could take ya to dinner or see one of them silly plays in Saint Denise.” 

Is he really asking you out on a date? Your stomach skips. You’ve no idea how many times you imagined him saying this, but you never thought it’d actually happen. Maybe you’re suffering hallucinations stemming from your condition, but you don’t care. You smile up at him and cup his cheek. 

“Well, I would have said yes if you asked me then. My answer isn’t changing now.” 

His lips stretch into a wide grin and then suddenly, they’re on yours. They’re slightly chapped and dry, but they’re warm. His lips move softly against yours, parting them just slightly as his tongue flicks over your lips. Your hand moves into his hair, tangling into them. 

Before things can go further, he breaks away. “Thank ya, darlin’. I ain’t ever lettin’ you go, not unless you want me to.” 

You smile at him and lay your head on his chest. It feels like a miniature version of the sun has taken residence in your own chest, sending warmth to your limbs. You suddenly can’t wait to be in well enough condition to go out with Arthur, but for now, you’re happy to stay in the safety and heat of his arms. He draws soft patterns into your skin, sending you back into an easy slumber. 

[swanqueeneverafter]

Sins of the Past Pt.9

Camelot. Present. Morgana's Chambers. (Morgana hurriedly returns to her chambers through a back passageway.) Guinevere: (Calling from outside the door:) "My Lady?" (Morgana looks down at her muddy cloak and tosses it behind her bed just as Guinevere enters.) Guinevere: "I saw the light, wanted to make sure you were alright." Morgana: "I’m fine." Guinevere: "You were missed at the festival today, the people of Camelot are eager to welcome you back." Morgana: "They have already waited ten years, I'm sure they can manage without me for a little while longer." Guinevere: (Smiles:) "Of course. Will you be joining us for dinner in Storybrooke?" Morgana: (Hesitates:) "I think not. After a day re-familiarizing myself with the castle, I'm really quite tired." Guinevere: "I'll leave you to rest then. Would you like-" Morgana: (Steps back:) "Guin, you are queen now. You helping me undress would just be embarrassing for both of us." Guinevere: "I really don't mind, it wouldn't be any trouble." Morgana: (A sharper tone:) "I’ll prepare myself for bed. (Making her tone light again:) Goodnight, Guin." Morgana: "Goodnight, My Lady." (Guinevere leaves.)

Camelot. Past. Forest. (Morgana sneaks out of the castle at night to meet Morgause in the woods.) Morgause: “You look well.” Morgana: “Thanks to you. (Morgana touches the enchanted bracelet Morgause gave her:) I wear it all the time. I can’t remember when I last had a bad dream.” Morgause: “But you do not seem happy. Why is that?” Morgana: “I would be if I didn’t have to pretend.” Morgause: “Pretend?” Morgana: “That I’m Uther’s loving daughter when I hate him.” Morgause: “Have you ever imagined a new world, Morgana? One where Uther was no more?” Morgana: “Sometimes.” Morgause: “And is that what you’d like?” Morgana: “I once had the chance to be his assassin.” Morgause: “And what stopped you?” Morgana: “I don’t know. I believe he cared for me. But not anymore. He cares for no one.” Morgause: “So, you want Uther destroyed and his reign to end?” Morgana: “More than anything. But it doesn’t matter what I want. The future’s not of my making.” Morgause: “You are wrong, Morgana. You underestimate your importance. The decisions you make now will change the shape of everything that is to come.” Morgana: “What do you mean?” Morgause: “Whose side are you on, Morgana? Are you with Uther? Or are you with me? Are you prepared to help me bring about his downfall?” Morgana: “I am.” Morgause: (Reaching out to stroke Morgana’s face:) “I can’t tell you how much it means to hear you say that.” 

Storybrooke. Present. Swan-Mills House. (Tired, sore and covered in mud, Mrs & Mrs Swan-Mills arrive home victorious, carrying their trophy between them.) Regina: "Well, that worked out nicely." Emma: (Closing the front door:) "It did, didn't it?" Regina: "Although technically I still think I won. It was my horse who crossed the finish line first." Emma: "Hey, tell it to the judges, their decision is final." Regina: "Hm." Emma: "You heard them, it was a dead heat. Too close to call! Take the win, Regina. Anyway, I should be the one that's upset. I don't get to see your Lady Godiva moment now." Regina: "No, but I do still want to see you wearing that necklace tonight. So how about a compromise?" Emma: (Gasps in mock surprise:) "You? Mayor Mills, compromise? The hell you say." Regina: "It's Swan-Mills, and yes. Interested?" Emma: "I don't know... it’s a pretty ugly necklace. Your compromise had better be good." Regina: "What if, instead of heading back to the stables, I take off all my clothes right now, jump on your back and ride you around every room of this house?" Emma: (Laughing:) "The image I have in my head right now is so ridiculous. (Tries to control her giggles when seeing the slightly hurt look on Regina's face:) I'm sorry, it's just..." Regina: "Forget I said anything." Emma: (Reaching out and taking her hand:) "Wait. Please wait. (Composing herself:) Now, it's not the craziest idea I've heard." Regina: "Only the funniest, evidently." Emma: "Well, yeah, and I know you meant it to be sexy but, maybe with a couple of tweaks, it could be very, very hot." Regina: (Still annoyed:) "I'm open to suggestions." Emma: (Smiles:) "Okay, well, I have zero problem with the you getting naked part. That part I love. But how about instead of my back, you jump into my arms and, (Waving her hand, Emma envelops herself in a cloud of smoke. When it clears, Emma stands naked but for a few hefty straps at her waist. Smirking as Regina's eyes are immediately drawn to the appendage now bobbing between her legs:) I give you the ride of your life?" Regina: (Still transfixed:) "Well, there's only one thing I can think to say. (Using her own magic to shed her clothes:) Giddy up!" A Short While Later. (Reclined in each others arms in the bath tub, Regina and Emma discuss the night's plans.) Emma: "Do I really have to wear that thing to dinner?" Regina: "Not if we don't go." Emma: "Mom wants us there." Regina: "Then yes, you have to wear it." Emma: "What if she asks why I'm wearing it and not you?" Regina: "You tell her the truth. You lost a bet." Emma: (Smiling up at her:) "If you call this losing, I can't imagine what winning feels like." Regina: "Well don't ask your father, he wouldn't know what winning felt like either." Emma: (Chuckles:) "All right, you asked for this." (With much splashing and screams of delight, Regina and Emma take turns dunking each other under the surface, causing huge waves of water to spill over the edge of the tub and onto the tiled floor below.)

Storybrooke. Main Street. (While the festivities of the day begin to wind down and the crowds slowly disperse, Henry takes a break from driving to stretch his legs. When passing by someone clearly from Wonderland, Henry feels compelled to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. However, as he's about to dial Ella's number, he stops himself, remembering that there are no cell towers in Wonderland. Looking up from his phone, he spots a familiar face sitting alone on a bench.) Henry: “Drizella?” Drizella: (Sniffles, wiping her eyes:) “Oh. I'm sorry. I don't remember calling a taxi.” Henry: “Funny. You’re here for the festival?” Drizella: (Nods:) “If I had known it was going to be a celebration of the Charmings and the Swan-Mills’ I might not have bothered.” Henry: “Try living with them.” Drizella: “Ooh, trouble in paradise?” Henry: (Taking a seat beside her:) “Alright, that was a little unfair, but sometimes it can get a little annoying - living in their shadow I mean.” Drizella: “Tell me about it. At least you weren’t overshadowed by your sister all your life. (Thinks:) Oh wait, don’t you have a little sister now?” Henry: “I think you know I do. Judging by the amount of gifts my moms received, I doubt there’s one person in all the united realms who doesn’t know about my sister.” Drizella: “And so it begins.” Henry: “It’s not like that at all. I love Maria and I’m thrilled to be a big brother.” Drizella: “Just give it time.” Henry: (Shaking his head:) “Speaking of which, where’s your sister, Anastasia?” Drizella: "Oh, probably off somewhere moping. Torturing herself over her past as the Red Queen. I mean, it's not like it happened recently, it was for a very brief period thirty years ago. I wish she’d just get over it already." Henry: "Well to be fair to Anastasia, it was very recent to her mind." Drizella: "Oh please, not the resurrection again. You know people always talk about that but they never seem to remember that I was encased in stone for roughly the same amount of time." Henry: "That had to be a hard time for you." Drizella: (Smiles, despite herself:) "Ha. Ha. (Sighs:) Look at us, sat in the middle of a festival throwing our own little pity party." Henry: "Yeah, Ella would've loved this." Drizella: "Is that your little dream girl?" Henry: "She came from the Dream Realm, yes." Drizella: "So where is she now?" Henry: "Searching for her mother." Drizella: (Scoffs:) "If she's also looking for her mother's approval, she'll be gone a long time. Trust me, I speak from experience." Henry: "Well the good thing is you haven't let it effect you. I mean it's not like you released an ancient immortal creature and a dust cloud filled with hate over the land just to prove yourself to your dead mother." Drizella: (Pursing her lips:) "Exactly." Henry: "Cause that would've been crazy." Drizella: "This from the son of the woman who conjured the Dark Curse?" Henry: "Touche. At least you're not the only one on this bench with baggage." Drizella: "Okay, then. So, how do we get rid of it. The baggage." Henry: "Take a chance? Do the scary thing? Hope it all works out." Drizella: "Is that what you call what you’re doing with Ella? The 'scary thing'?" Henry: "I don't know. I'm just figuring it out, same as you." Drizella: "Well, I for one need a drink." Henry: "Good idea." Drizella: "So, come on." Henry: "What?" Drizella: (Squints:) "You are legally allowed to drink now, aren't you?" Henry: "Yeah." Drizella: "Well, let's go!" (Hesitating for a moment, Henry looks down at his phone, then puts it in his pocket. Standing, he and Drizella walk together in search of the nearest bar. From a short distance away, Tiana watches them leave, with a troubled look upon her face.) Wonderland. Night. Will and Ella’s Campsite. (Will lays on the floor with his arms crossed attempting to sleep while Ella stands, turning the necklace over and over in her hand.) Will: “Please go to sleep.” Ella: “I can't. You sleep.” Will: “How can I sleep if you insist on thinking so loudly?” Ella: “What you said before... maybe you were right. Maybe she's moved on.”

Will: (Sitting up:) “I'm sorry, Ella. I put that terrible idea in your head. Don't listen to me, I don't know nothing about it. Do you believe that she truly loves you?” Ella: “I did.” Will: “Well, that's good then. Because when somebody truly loves you, they can never move on. It’s like you said, you don’t need any proof.” Ella: “That’s true, but it's still nice to have.” Will: (Sighs:) “As much as I’m going to regret this, as your guide on this little journey, it is my duty to help you in any way I can. So, if you want proof, proof you shall have.” Ella: “What are you talking about?” Will: “I’m talking about finding a way to prove your mother is still out there somewhere.” Ella: “And how do you propose we do that?” Will: “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Tomorrow. After a good solid night’s sleep. Deal?” Ella: (Smiling:) “Deal.” Forest of Balor. Caves. (Mulan and Ruby walk through the caves carrying torches.) Ruby: "There they are." (The flowers they seek are across a large gap with a narrow ledge and long drop. Mulan looks down.) Mulan: "Keep back from the edge. Don’t worry. We’ll be out of here soon.” (Walking carefully over the ledge, Mulan heads toward the Mortaeus flower growing on the cave wall. The cave begins to rumble, but seemingly nothing comes of it. Reaching the flower, Mulan grabs it and puts it in a pouch on her belt, then makes her way back to Ruby.) Ruby: “Well that was easy.” Mulan: “A little too easy.” Lord Macintosh: “You’re right. (Ruby and Mulan turn to face him:) I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave here with that.” Mulan: “Macintosh. So it was you who poisoned the goblet!” Lord Macintosh: “I don’t know what you mean, Lassie. All I know is with Merida gone, that makes me the rightful ruler of all Dun Broch.” Mulan: “Over my dead body.” Lord Macintosh: “Aye, I thought you might say something like that.” (Turning, Macintosh motions towards the darkness where several of his men emerge. Mulan draws her sword.) Ruby: “Mulan, no. We don’t have time for this.” Mulan: “I don’t think they’re going to give us much choice.” Lord Macintosh: “Surrender the flower and no harm will come to you.” Mulan: “So I give up the flower and you’ll let us go?” Lord Macintosh: “As the new King of Dun Broch, I give you my word.” Mulan: “You aren’t King yet. Quick, Ruby, hand me your cloak.” Ruby: “What?” Mulan: “You’re right, we don’t have much time. (As Ruby removes her cloak, Mulan places the flower carefully inside:) I need you to transform.” Ruby: (Realising the plan:) “Oh no, I’m not leaving you.” Mulan: (Folding the cloak:) “You have to. You have to get the flower back to Storybrooke before it’s too late. (Reluctantly, Ruby does as she’s told and transforms into the wolf. Macintosh and his men recoil at the sight. Placing Ruby’s cloak into the wolf’s mouth:) Take it and go!” (With a low growl, the wolf paws at the ground and leaps toward Macintosh’s men. Desperately clinging to the walls to get out of the wolf’s path, Macintosh looks on helplessly as it runs from the cave and out of sight.)

Storybrooke. The Dragon's Lair. (Sitting down to dinner, Emma looks around the restaurant, clearly agitated.) Emma: "Great, now everyone's staring." Regina: "Well who could blame them? I often find myself staring at my beautiful wife." Emma: "They're starting at this ridiculous thing around my neck! (Regina promptly hides her face behind her menu. Narrowing her eyes:) You know if I had won, there's no way I would’ve had you embarrass yourself in public." Regina: (Lowering her menu:) "Do you think I'd have anything to be embarrassed about if you did?" (Knowing she's been out maneuvered, Emma quickly changes the subject.) Emma: (Picking up her own menu:) "There's just so much good stuff to choose from. (Still feeling Regina's eyes on her, Emma looks around for a distraction. As Maleficent walks by their table:) Mal, what would you recommend?" Maleficent: (Without missing a beat:) "A stylist." (At this, Regina bursts out laughing while Emma glares at Maleficent's back.) Emma: (As Regina continues to laugh:) "Oh, shut up. (Looking over Regina's shoulder:) Wait a minute. Is that Henry?" Regina: (Turns in her seat:) "Yes it is." Emma: "Who's that he's with?" Henry's Table. (Drizella returns to the table with a bottle.) Henry: "What's this?" Drizella: "Something better than the cheap antifreeze you're used to drinking." Regina & Emma's Table. (Emma's eyes widen in recognition.) Emma: "Drizella? What the hell's going on?" (Regina puts a hand on Emma's arm to stop her making a scene.) Regina: "Calm down, we don't know what the situation is." Emma: "The situation is that Henry let Ella go to Wonderland alone so he could go on a date with Drizella!" Regina: "Would you keep your voice down! I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks." Emma: “Since when did you start giving people the benefit of the doubt?” Regina: "Since you did the same for me all those years ago. Need I remind you that's our son you're accusing? Now sit down and let me handle this." Emma: (When Regina returns to her menu:) "Well?!" Regina: "I'll go over there after we've ordered. I seem to have worked up quite the appetite." Emma: (Looking over Regina's shoulder again:) "Yeah well if you don't get over there soon, I'm going to lose mine." Regina: (Under her breath:) "And your mind." Emma: "What?" Regina: (Smiling sweetly:) "Nothing."

Camelot. Past. Council Chamber. (Uther dines as Morgana enters with tear stained cheeks.) Morgana: "I have come to apologise, My Lord. You have been generous and kind and fair. And I owe you everything. I truly don’t know what came over me." (Uther stands and rushes to meet Morgana. He embraces her with tears of joy.) Uther: "I am so glad you’ve seen sense. Come, dine with me. Let’s put this unfortunate incident behind us." Morgana: "No, no. I am on my way to the chapel, to pray forgiveness for my sins." Uther: "Of course." Morgana: (She wipes his tears away with a handkerchief:) "I don’t know why you put up with me. But I promise, in the future I will show you the love and respect that you deserve." (Morgana walks away, smirking.) Forest. Night. (Morgana leaves the castle and rides to a cave guarded by the Bloodguard.) Morgause: “My sister. How have you fared?” Morgana: “Uther has welcomed back his daughter with open arms.” Morgause: “Uther does not suspect?” Morgana: “He laps up my lies like the snivelling dog that he is. He believes I’ve changed. And he’s right. Soon he will see exactly how much.” Morgause: “You’ve done well. The tears of Uther Pendragon have only begun to fall.” (Morgause drops the handkerchief with Uther’s tears into a giant cauldron filled with boiling liquid and adds a large root. The root screams and Morgana flinches:) The mandrake root is very special. Only those with magic can hear its cries. But for those without magic, the mandrake pierces the very recesses of the soul, twisting the unconscious into the very image of fear and dread. Uther Pendragon will find that his great kingdom counts for nothing, when he has lost his mind. (She begins an incantation:) Mid þæm wundorcræft þæs ealdan æwþ ic þe hate nime Utheres wopdropan ond þa gemengan mid his blod. Sy he under wittig ond deofol seocnes his heorte afylþ.” (Morgause’s eye glow. She pulls out the muddy root and hands it to Morgana.)

Storybrooke. Present. The Dragon's Lair. (Guinevere sits alone at the bar deep in thought when Snow White joins her.) Snow White: "Guinevere. You look troubled." Guinevere: (Smiles weakly:) "Just thinking about Morgana." Snow White: "Where is she? I thought we might see her today?" Guinevere: (Shakes her head:) "She didn't feel up to it. And I can hardly blame her, after all she's been through." Snow White: "Has she managed to tell you where she's been all these years?" Guinevere: "No, but I can only imagine the horrors she's seen." Henry & Drizella's Table. (Drizella pours Henry another drink.) Drizella: "Thanks for listening to me earlier, no one ever does that." Henry: "No problem. I know finding where you belong in this world can be hard." Drizella: "So what happened with you and Ella? Why didn't you go with her? Couldn't take a chance and do the scary thing after all, huh?" Henry: "It's complicated." Drizella: "Hm. (Picks up her glass:) Well, to keeping things uncomplicated." (They clink glasses. Having seen enough, Regina is about to break things up when there is a commotion outside.) Main Street. (David and Emma exit the restaurant first to find people running for their lives. Heading towards the source of the chaos they find a wolf growling and charging at the doors to the library.) David: (Noticing the familiar cloak laying in the moonlight:) "It's Ruby!" (Picking up the cloak, David moves carefully over to the animal and drapes the cloak over it. Transforming almost instantly, Ruby lifts her hood and grabs hold of David.) Ruby: "You have to help me, they've got Mulan!" (Emma and David look to each other in surprise while a crowd begins to gather around them.)