#reminds me of the time someone compare him to a horse

[elliotmybeloved]

WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IT??!11! T-T

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Unsurprisingly, a lot of the commentary I'm seeing about this has been of the "But--but--I would do the same thing because I don't want anything bad to happen to the deer!"

Look. I love wildlife, and I love getting to see deer, coyotes, and even the occasional black bear in my neighborhood. But they are here because there is good habitat nearby with lots of natural food sources, not because I deliberately put out food for them to eat. I respect them as wild animals with whom my relationship is very different compared to the domesticated animals I take care of every day. A deer is not a sheep or a horse; a coyote is not a dog.

People who do things like try to tame deer or, worse yet, try to raise a fawn or other young wildlife like pets are robbing those wild animals of their natural existences. We've already wrought our own preferences on the landscape to a severe degree, tearing the wildness out of it to create lawns and farms and subdivisions and strip malls. When we then dismiss the wildness of these animals and impress our own desire for connection on our terms on them, we are harming them.

I've already written elsewhere about the difference between "tame" and "domesticated". No matter how docile that deer seems, it is never going to be as (relatively) safe and tractable as a domesticated sheep or goat. It will always be more unpredictable, and more likely to lash out suddenly at a person due to fear, or hormones, or protection of young.

These animals need their wild instincts to be intact if they are going to survive without being dependent on us. They need those instincts in order to find mates and keep the gene pool stirred up. Their instincts keep them safe from danger, including humans. And their instincts never totally go away, no matter how much we may try to tame them otherwise.

This is why a good wildlife rehab is going to minimize handling of the wild animals they care for, especially those that are going to be able to be released back into the wild. The less comfortable these animals are with humans, the better their chances of surviving in the wild and having fulfilling, natural lives. Wildlife that retain their wariness of humans are less likely to end up falling prey to hunting, or being killed as nuisance animals when they get too aggressive in seeking food or otherwise coming into conflict with people.

The person who painted "pet" on a fully grown white-tailed buck and put a collar around his neck may have felt like they were doing that deer a kindness, but they have likely robbed him of the chance to just live a natural life as his own, independent being out in the woods and fields. He might be out there, sure, but perhaps he won't mate because he imprinted on humans. Or maybe he will end up shot by a hunter in spite of the precautions because he's just too friendly and those antlers are worth taking the shot.

There will always be something missing from this deer's life because of the arrogance of someone who thought they could own and keep and control a wild-born animal for their own enjoyment, instead of allowing him to come and go as he pleased. Honestly, it reminds me of King Haggard from Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn, whose response to seeing something beautiful was to capture it and keep it rather than simply enjoying and remembering that magical moment:

"I like to watch them. They fill me with joy. The first I felt it I thought I was going to die. I said to the Red Bull I must have them, all of them, all there are. For nothing makes me happy but their shining and their grace. So the Red Bull caught them. Each time I see the unicorns, my unicorns, it is like that morning in the woods and I am truly young, in spite of myself."

That's how I feel about people who are willing to drastically alter a wild animal's behavior for their own selfish benefit, even if they think they're being kind. I know I'm fighting a bit of an uphill battle in this, but I'm rather stubborn that way.

[arcanarix]

Beneath You - Geto Suguru X Fem!Reader

CW // manipulation, coercion, geto is a pining mess, reader's not a jujutsu sorcerer, cunnilingus, face sitting, body worship, geto is a walking red flag but the reader has no idea for a long time, geto's got a big dick, lactation kink, reader is inexperienced

Word Count: ~10K

Summary: There’s a twist of disgust inside of him as he to compare himself to a human, but he doesn’t consider you so low. Not at all. Far from it. If anything, he may go as far as to declare with full conviction that he’s the one beneath you. Yet here you are, blessing him with that ‘common decency’ he doesn’t deserve, even still. Because that’s the kind of person you are. People like you are rare finds, and he is sworn to protect rare breeds of human like you who belong to his new world order.

AO3

Another mission takes Geto to a remote village where grade 1 curses have wreaked havoc amongst its residents. He doesn’t intend to stay for long—grade 1s are not too much of an issue for someone like him—but upon arriving, he’s stunned to already see some locals hard at work given what little tools they have to survive. While true, the existence of curses isn’t completely a secret to the general public, he’s still shocked to find a select few of these villagers have begun to fight back.

Those non-sorcerers are not as primitive as he has been led to believe…

One particular villager leaves an impression on him. You are that villager. You’re not even a sorcerer, yet you attend to those afflicted or attacked by curses at a moment’s notice.

You’re the first person he meets, on the train ride there. He’s glancing at his ticket lost in thought over everything that’s transpired since the incident with Riko, and notices you peering at the thin slip of paper, before you lock gazes with his.

“What’re you going to my next stop for?” you inquire with a smile. “It’s probably not a good idea right now. There’s been reports of mass murders by an unknown cause and I’ve been called to treat any surviving victims.”

Geto hums, a flash of irritation in his eyes because he’s not one for small talk—especially given what he’s witnessed in the past few months.

“I’m there to stop the problem myself,” he responds, his tone a bit short but you don’t seem bothered by it. “Worry not, I’m sure it’ll be over after I take care of everything.”

“Wow, you sure got it all figured out, eh?” you remark, tone laden with curiosity for him, your grin widening. Geto stares at you for a moment. Why do you remind him of someone…? “That’s good to know. It’s nice that there’s still people like that out there. I’m glad you’re here to help out that village. We can always use true heroes like you.”

Geto perks an eyebrow at that last statement, averting his gaze to the nearly empty train. The train is about to slow, meaning they are close to their stop.

 “…You call me a hero and yet you’ve just met me,” he murmurs, more to himself.

Ah. He’s beginning to see who you remind him of now.

“Aw, well, let’s just say I have a knack for understanding someone’s real character,” you answer with a wink. “Since we’re going to be working together for a while, what’s your name?”

“Suguru Geto,” he answers, a bit too quickly for his own liking. Why’s that? Why is he suddenly so intrigued by you…? Why can’t he just ignore this sort of thing like he always does? He does sense something a bit unique about you, though. Perhaps it’s to sate his curiosity. Nothing more. He can forget about this mission and you by extension when this is over.

“Nice to meet you,” and you respond with your name. It rolls off his tongue nicely when he addresses it, and when you giggle, it’s the most pleasant of sounds to him. Unlike with most humans, who sound discordant and annoying, yours is light, beautiful, ringing like cathedral bells…

…Why is he pulling the cart before the horse here?

The train slows even more. Then comes to a complete stop. You both leave the train side by side, but you appear to be in a rush. He doesn’t mind. He’s probably going to run into again sooner than he wants to…

…And lo and behold, he’s correct to make that assumption as by the next morning, he’s found you at the front lines, securing any remaining victims and keeping them secured in a safe house protected by a veil a weaker sorcerer from the village has managed to cast themselves with the aide of a cursed scroll. That’s what you explain to him. So now he discovers you’re aware of sorcerers and what people like him do. He finds himself impressed by the effort from these villagers—they do seem to be a little more progressive here—but he learns that he’s called to this village because there are no sorcerers here who can compete with grade 1 curses. All of those who have tried, have died in combat, as you explain to him between treating victims.

And these villagers…don’t look opposed to the existence of sorcerers or curses. Or at least, it doesn’t seem so. Not necessarily. They don’t appear alarmed by them…as if this is a normal occurrence.

So much unlike the ones he’s encountered in the past.

He observes you like a deer caught in headlights, dumbfounded, as he scans rows upon rows of wounded villagers on the floor. Some are unconscious, some are barely breathing. Some are cut up terribly, blood seeping through their bandages. The stench of bitter metal, vomit, and shit hits his nose and his lips curl as he grimaces; it’s so foul he can’t breathe, fearing he may vomit himself…

And yet her you are, undeterred by the horrors which have befallen this village, the only one saving them all. As if they’re worth something more than a scrape of metal or a speck of dirt.

It’s awe-inspiring…yet confounding all the same.

He almost wants to scoff at how futile your efforts are, to save such scummy people who may sooner feed you to the wolves than thank you, but he finds himself drawn to how focused you are on healing them. You have no reverse cursed technique, only relying on traditional medications and the few incantations the living weaker sorcerers have learned. Humans, in general, can’t use reverse cursed techniques, so there’s no other option for them. This all likely won’t be enough, he figures, and it’s not like he can contact Shoko because she’s not meant to be fighting.

But maybe he doesn’t need to call Shoko because you’re already making a huge difference by actively trying to make changes. That’s so much unlike the behavior he’s seen in humans before.

What a conundrum he’s faced with now… he must accept that his own feelings aren’t all that pure. His morals aren’t as unshakable as he once believed.

He’s so trapped in his own inner conflicts that he doesn’t realize you approach him to dispose of the blood and vomit soiled gloves protecting your hands and retrieving new ones after disinfecting your hands. While you adjust them, he catches your eye.

“Geto, can we rely on you to exorcise those damned curse spirits? We can’t afford anymore casualties. The population of this village is already next to null, and we’re going to lose all of our villagers at this rate. It’s good you came to help us when you did.”

He nods, expression grim as he makes his way to the exit of the safe house, but not before turning back to announce: “I’ll make sure the barrier technique remains intact as well. You’ll be safe in here.”

“Thank you, Geto—you really are a hero,” you praise him before you run to your nearest victim who’s moaning in agony from a broken arm and a leg that’s been sliced cleanly off. He watches you, immobilized by how intrigued he is of you and the few residents in this village before he takes action to completely eradicate the cause.

The curse spirits are more than even he bargains for, but he manages to eradicate a few that night. Preventing further casualties or more injured villagers.

When he returns, some victims have been nursed back to adequate health in a rapid amount of time. He’s impressed by your efforts. Just watching you as you give them their herbal treatments and clean up their wounds. He does get injured a few times himself while he’s out there exorcising the spirits, and as you stop once you completed cleaning up another victim’s wounds, you signal him to come over.

“Let’s take care of you, Geto. You’re a godsend,” you praise him yet again with so much genuineness and a strong hint of reverence, that your words catch Geto a bit off-guard. He’s staring again, immobilized for a few moments once more before he ambles to your side and settles in the cushion before you. You pick up a fresh damp cloth with some medication to help disinfect the wounds. His body is scratched, slice and diced, and bruised all over, and you shake your head at the condition of his body. Nothing you haven’t seen before, at least he thinks, and yet…

“This might sting,” you warn him while he removes his top, and as you rest the damp cloth on a particularly large gash on his shoulder, he flinches and grunts out loud. “Man, you sorcerers…you really are full of heart. All of you. Sticking your neck outs for people like us who can’t do much for ourselves due to our lack of cursed energy. Many of these villagers can’t even perceive what attacked them.”

Geto hums absently. “It’s no glamorous lifestyle—that much I can assure you.”

You let out a dry laugh at that, while apologizing to him under your breath when you go over some tender parts of his skin from his many wounds and gashes.

“I’m a medicine woman, a healer, yet I’m sure I haven’t seen stuff more gruesome than you must’ve,” you comment, working to stitch the gash up after you clean and disinfect the area. He probably doesn’t know that you’ve noticed how frail he looks, like he’s neglected his own health in favor of his role as a sorcerer.

He manages a wry grin at that. “You have no idea.”

He freezes when he realizes how close your face is to his, and his cheeks burn as he flits his gaze elsewhere, to the door, to the sealed windows, to the moaning and groaning victims. Anything to avoid getting lost in those eyes that are so full of kindness that he doesn’t deserve, not with the sort of thoughts that have plagued his mind for months now since Riko’s death.

Once you’re done stitching up that large gash, you move to clean up the smaller cuts and bruises around his body. You sponge him gently with a fresh cloth, and he’s caught in another daze again as he observes you.

“You’re not scared of me,” he realizes out loud. “Or the curses.”

“Of course not,” you almost snicker at the absurdity of his statement, which has him furrow his brows at your behavior. Are you not aware of how rare sorcerers are in this world? “We have had a few sorcerers in this village who have since perished when these attacks began, protecting villagers who don’t understand what attacked them in the first place. I’ve had sorcerers in my family, but they’re all gone, fighting these curses that are too powerful for them.”

Ah. So she’s got a fair idea of the world for sorcerers, then.

“I’m sorry,” he replies, tone solemn. He knows too well losing those close to him to things like this. You manage a smile.

“We all have to go one day,” you reply with a deep sigh, moving to sponge his lower back. “I just wish I had more time with them. We’ll be together in the next life.”

“You believe in the afterlife?” he mutters, as you move to continue to clean the dirt and grime off of him.

“We have to believe in something to keep going,” you counter with a curt nod. “And for me, it’s to be with my family again. That’s enough for me.”

“I see,” he states. Once you’re done patching him up, you pat his unwounded shoulder.

“There you go! All fixed up…mostly.” You throw him a thumbs up while using a fresh cloth to wipe your neck glistening with sweat down. “You have to give your shoulder some time to heal, obviously.”

“We have a doctor back at the organization I work for who can help me with that,” he replies with a smile. “Thank you. Your kindness is most appreciated.”

“I like to think of it as common decency!” you retort under your breath with a playful wink. “Just doing what’s right.”

“Most people don’t think that way,” he points out, and his eyes catch you rubbing your arms and shivering a bit. It is a bit chilly tonight, he remembers, and the thermostat in this safe house doesn’t work.

Quirking an eyebrow, he picks up a nearby blanket in a basket by your tool kit that appears freshly washed, wrapping it around you in a gentle motion. He catches himself in the act, warring with himself over why he’s suddenly concerned for you. He usually does not allow himself to get too close anymore—especially after Riko.

“You should rest. The barrier won’t break, so nothing will get to you and the other villagers, for now. Don’t you have others working with you?”

“Thank you, Geto. You’ve got an eye for practicality,” you reply with a winning grin in spite of how exhausted you appear to him. His brows furrow—why do you risk your life for these people who don’t matter? “But unfortunately, no. This is my post—there’s only one person and they’re out of commission themselves.”

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” He doesn’t understand why he’s asking, but given there are more curses that aren’t showing themselves at the moment that he still has yet to exorcise…he’s going to be here with you for longer than he initially expected.

“Well, uh, I guess you could, with giving them their nightly medicine,” you murmur through a yawn. Geto looks at you with concern etched across his face, resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Rest,” he insists, frowning. “I can keep watch, and I can give the medicine. It’s this one, right?”

He gestures to the vials by your feet in a basket.

“Yeah,” you answer through another yawn, covering your mouth. “They need to be given the entire vial…taken orally, obviously, and the taste isn’t great so…give them some water if they ask for it. If they’re strong enough to ask for it. Let me watch you take care of one villager before I really pass out.”

“Sure,” he replies, and he does as you instruct him. Feeding a villager the entire vial and offering water, which the villager thanks him for profusely before desperately gulping it down to wash away the taste. As he turns around to seek your approval, you flash him a quick, tired grin before you settle into your chair and attempt to rest.

He’s never seen anyone like you…and all he can do is try his best to return your efforts.

The next morning, he’s waiting for you when you wake up. You complain of a dull throbbing in your head, clutching the side of it as you reorient yourself.

“The rest of the curse spirits have been exorcised,” he explains to you. Before you open your mouth to speak, he continues to clarify for you: “You were knocked out cold for a while. You’ve been neglecting yourself to help the villagers. Everyone is safe now. The problem is gone. My work here is finished, but I wish to stay to help you nurse the villagers back to perfect health.”

It’s against his character, and frankly, he still doesn’t understand why he’s offering to help out when he does have the freedom to return to Jujutsu Tech.

Something about you compels him to stay. His lips press into a grim line as he wars himself over his own aged inner conflict.

Why help those pathetic monkeys who can’t even fend for themselves?

It’s because of you, and he loathes this fact. He loathes that you stain him with your futile ideals. How you can still see humanity as worth protecting when they have taken your sorcerer family members away.

Everything about you—everything about you shatters his conviction about non-sorcerers. This whole conundrum…perhaps he must accept that there shall always be a gray area no matter how much he wishes to adhere to the belief that people like you are the reason he suffers, are the reason his comrades die.

But now he’s come to view you as a comrade. Someone to protect from harm’s way.

“I can’t ask that of you,” you finally answer him after a period of reflection. “You have your duties, and I have mine here, and mine don’t stop at this village. You must have more waiting for you, do you not?”

“You’re not asking this of me. I’m offering you,” he retaliates as he rests his hands on your knees, squeezing them gently. “Let me stay and help. The people I work for already know I’ve been gone longer than anticipated, so what’s another day or so?”

You snort at that. “You sorcerers really stick your neck outs for us, huh, Geto? Alright. I’ll let you help—for one more day. But then you have your own life to return to, alright?”

His heart skips a beat at that. “Of course.”

And he does stay and help as much as he can for that one more day. Once the remaining villagers can more or less leave the safe house, you offer him your place to stay for the night and offer to cook him some things to regain his strength before he leaves.

You prepare him a hearty stew along with other family favorites, splayed out all over a low wooden table.

“It’s the least I can do for you,” you announce after setting up the table and offering him some piping hot jasmine tea to accompany his meal. “Please, eat. I’ll prepare you some more meals for you to take back with you too.”

“That’s kind of you,” he mumbles as his eyes scan the colorful array of food. He’s moved by your kindness—more than he cares to admit to himself as he brings the bowl of stew to his lips, blowing on it gently before taking a sip and humming at how delicious it tastes. Rosemary, basil, and thyme hit his nostrils, and the soft potatoes are so chockful of flavor. 

“It’s a gift,” you tease with a little smirk playing on your lips. “I may not be a fancy shmancy sorcerer like you, but I can cook a mean meal that can win anyone’s heart!”

“I believe it,” he admits openly, downing the rest of that stew with a bit of gusto before attacking some of the finger sandwiches you prepared. You grin at him with a little twinkle in your eyes.

“Now you just eat up, relax, and you can stay the night,” you reply, “This is the bare minimum of what I can do for you after you protected this village. This is what’s left of my home. But, ah, it’s not like I get to stay here as long as I want to anymore. I tend to hop from village to village taking care of people.”

“So, you’re a nomadic medicine woman?” he inquires, mid-sipping on the stew.

“Something like that,” you declare as you rest your clenched fists on your hips. “I try to stay within the more remote villages since they don’t have as much access to modern medication. They don’t care enough to upgrade or fund these areas, so us countryfolk are left to fend for ourselves a lot of the time.”

Fucking monkeys, he finds himself thinking, but more about those who don’t want to progress than those who wish to help themselves, like you do, and by extension, clearly your family.

“Eh, it is what it is, I guess!” you go on as you whip around to return to the kitchen. “Now I have a big ole’ mess to clean up so you just sit back and relax, okay?”

“Are you sure you don’t need any—” he starts, but you interject before he can finish.

“—no, finish your meal and then rest up! You’ve helped me more than enough!” you call back to him with a dismissive wave over your shoulder as you disappear into the kitchen.

You don’t get to see it, but he’s smiling more genuinely than he has in the last few months, digging into the rest of the dishes you prepared for him. He might have some disdain toward non-sorcerers as a general rule, but he supposes there are some outliers, like you, who happen to come from a family with sorcerers and non-sorcerers. Someone like you, who can understand the horrors of the world yet still wear a smile through it.

It’s refreshing, indeed.

When he leaves the village the next day, you follow through on your promise and offer him some extra meals for him to take back with him. A little something to remember you by, you joke, to which he responds saying he can’t forget a kind soul like you. You remind him that there is still true good in this world, and you only shrug it off, calling him an idiot in jest.

“I’m just doing what’s right,” you remind him as you wave him goodbye. “Now go on before you miss your train ride back home! You stay strong now, ya hear?”

He doesn’t miss his train back to Jujutsu Tech. And then not too long after he returns, he learns of Haibara’s death through Nanami and Gojo has taken up the mission. He’s then sent on another mission shortly thereafter, in a village not too far away from the village you resided in, and maybe he should have expected to, but he doesn’t at the time this happens.

He finds two helpless twin girls caged by the villagers, threatening to execute them due to their ability to use cursed energy and see spirits. Even with your words echoing in his head—‘I’m just doing what’s right’—‘I think of it as common decency’—he’s scoffing at those notions. A deep scowl on his face as he scrutinizes the village for damning two innocent little girls.

Even now. These monkeys have none. No decency whatsoever. Not like you. They’re not understanding like you. They’re not full of heart like you. You’re not blind like these monkeys are to the true, unshakable reality that they are nothing but scum for putting these girls in danger over something they can’t help or change about themselves. They’re not like you, who understand the horrors sorcerers face trying to protect scum like these…filthy fucking monkeys who refuse to understand something bigger than them exists.

These people are beneath him, beneath you. They don’t deserve mercy.

“Excuse me, why don’t we all step outside for a moment?” he finds himself suggesting, and securing the girls, he goes out somewhere he can’t be witnessed committing the atrocity he’s about to do.

That village burns to the ground at his hand. Cursing them all to Hell like they all fucking deserve, these fucking monkeys who don’t understand the burdens sorcerers bear swearing to protect their weak asses. None of them deserve respite. None of them deserve safety. They have proven to him time and time again that they don’t understand the suffering, the struggling he endures again and again and again at their hands. Unknowingly or not, such monkeys are a plague to society and are best wiped from existence.

Even with your influence, he can’t wholly change his mind, and maybe he’s still plagued by the guilt of not telling you the whole truth of the matter, by that but not by very much. He hopes you’ll understand him one day. That you’ll see him beyond his actions and for his own truth—that these people, these monkeys, don’t deserve to live for the horrors they impose on sorcerers like him.

Smirking in triumph, his eyes scan the area, smirk widening with pleasure from the growing number of dead corpses of non-sorcerer scum before he ventures into the buildings. The stench of rotting corpses fills the air.

As he searches through the village for any survivors, he freezes when he finds you amid the rubble and cobblestone, unconscious, arm splayed over your heart cradling medication and herbal remedies, and he pales upon recognizing your face.

He doesn’t expect you to be here, but he should have considered the possibility before burning it all and calling it quits on the stupid rules the world of jujutsu imposed on him. He’s done playing games with the higher-ups and jujutsu society.

Thinking nothing of it—what you don’t know won’t kill you, and he’ll nurse you back to health—he scoops your body into his arms and tosses you over his shoulder, taking you along with the girls away from that wretched village.

There are no remaining survivors aside from you and the girls, and you are not a local. You don’t count in this equation. You just happen to be in a place where shouldn’t have, but you have your own duties to fulfill, he reminds himself as a disgusted frown graces his features, gaze flitting down at your unconscious, battered form in pity, don’t you?

He returns you to the cult he’s now taken over after he expelled himself from Jujutsu Tech. Like he’s reminded himself, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. He doubts you’ll have the means of discovering what he’s done to that village any time soon, anyway.

You’re slowly recovering from the incident. The guilt does gnaw at his stone cold heart, seeing you being thrown in the crossfire when someone like you doesn’t deserve it. Someone so kind, so genuine. So true to your character. Unshakable.

You may be the only one who almost made him change his mind about stupid, simple humans, but not quite. Not everyone deserves to be saved.

Frankly, not even he deserves to be saved. He’s told Satoru himself: if Satoru’s going to kill him, then he should be the one to kill him. There’s a point to it, at least.

There is a point in keeping you safe, though. He believes in that. Wholeheartedly.

He’s drawing idle patterns along your collarbone as your eyes flutter open, taking in the surroundings that you’re still adjusting to since he brought you here. You are barely conscious through most of your time here, but you’ve already been in the temple for quite some time now.

He calls your name, and you stare at him, a bit out of it. You don’t remember where you are, naturally, since you’ve been constantly drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Geto?” you murmur upon recognizing his face as a dull pounding comes on in your head, clutching it tight as you sit up against the headboard of the bed.

“Hey,” he greets with a little smile, happy to see you’re fully conscious this time. The most you have done since he’s brought you here is drift in and out. You seem more alert this time.

“I had a mission…” you trail off, then your eyes widen, and you gasp upon realization. “Geto, how did you find me? What happened to that village? And where am I?”

“Everything’s fine,” he lies through his teeth through that plastic smile of his. “The problem there has been exorcised. I found you there unconscious, so I took you here to heal you. I’m afraid it might be wise not to leave just yet, because you’ve taken quite a blow. What were you doing there?”

“I told you—I had a job there too!” you counter, “The girls…the ones who are sorcerers from that village, are they alright?”

“Yes,” he assures you as his smile brightens his entire face. Of course, he can rely on you to worry about what truly matters in the long run—the safety of those two innocent girls.  “They’re here, safe and sound. You need to focus on your recovery. At least this way, I can repay you for the kindness you’ve given me. Though I doubt there’s much I can do in comparison.”

“You’ve done more than you could possibly imagine for me,” you breathe, reaching to rest your hand on his cheek. He leans into your touch, before resting his hand over yours. “You look…strong. Healthy. Since I saw you.”

“Do I?” he chuckles as he intertwines his fingers with yours; when you don’t seem taken aback by the gesture, he relaxes his body a bit more from its more rigid posture. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been feeling much better. And it’s in part because of you, you know. I’ve come to realize that you and I, we’re not so different, right?”

There’s a twist of disgust inside of him as he to compare himself to a human, but he doesn’t consider you so low. Not at all. Far from it. If anything, he may go as far as to declare with full conviction that he’s the one beneath you.

Yet here you are, blessing him with that ‘common decency’ he doesn’t deserve, even still. Because that’s the kind of person you are. People like you are rare finds, and he is sworn to protect rare breeds of human like you who belong to his new world order.

You grin wide, and his breath catches in his throat; how are you so effortlessly beautiful? Yet you aren’t aware of your own. How…perplexing.

“Of course. Like I said, I may not be a fancy pants like you, Mr. Sorcerer, but I can help where applicable—I call myself a medicine woman since I use some tricks my sorcerer mom taught me!”

“Do you feel good enough to get out of bed?” Geto asks, “If you’d like, I’d love to give you the tour of my temple.”

You blink at him owlishly, eyes flitting to every area of the room, awed by how huge and spacious it all is. “Wait…this is yours? I knew you were fancy! I could tell by those pretty bangs of yours, but not this fancy!”

He chuckles, his tone bright and rich, at your remark about his bangs—he usually gets the opposite reaction—and smiles as you take in your new home, if he can help it. You look more than thrilled for him, and he can’t help his heart swelling with pride from earning yet another pat on the back from you. It just reminds him of how good-natured of a person you are.

“So how’s that huge gash on your shoulder? Did that doctor friend of yours help?” you find yourself asking as your gaze lands back on him. He freezes for a moment at the mention of Shoko before grunting.

“Yes, it’s much better now,” he replies, smiling. “Thank you. For everything back there. You really are an extraordinary girl, you know that?”

You rub the back of your head, wincing a bit from the mild throbbing still. “Aw, shucks, it’s like I tell ya, I’m just doing what’s right.”

He hums, and while a bold move, he moves to press a soft kiss to your forehead. You freeze, gazing up at him with those shimmering, timid eyes as you realize what he’s just done.

“What’s that for?”  you whisper, eyes flitting down to his lips in spite of yourself. His lips curve into a smirk when he catches that little action of yours and merely shrugs.

“You’ve done a lot for me,” he answers in a smooth tone. “It’s just a little token of appreciation. And I find you’re a wonderful girl.”

Your cheeks burn from the flattery, and you laugh nervously. “That’s awfully nice of you to say, Geto! But I’m nothing special.”

“Don’t be silly,” he insists, brushing his fingers along your cheek. “I won’t rush you, of course. You’re still recovering. But I’d like to know you better.”

Now it’s your breath that catches in your throat when he says that, and you’re smiling even bigger, before wincing again as the dull throbbing in your head makes another wave. “I’d love that more than you know, Geto.”

“Suguru,” he corrects, still smiling. This time it reaches his brilliant sparkling purple eyes. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You beam at him, your gorgeous eyes twinkling. “Uh-huh, we sure are—owww!”

You clutch your head again, wincing, another wave of throbbing pain...

“You should take it easy,” he reprimands you with a frown. “Treat my home as yours. You can stay for as long as you need.”

“You’re far too kind, Suguru,” you reply, still beaming through the pain. “But hey, I can power through it! Just might need to be knocked out cold for another week or something though…”

Geto can’t help chuckling at that. “I’ll have some of our servants bring you food and medication. You can just relax as long as you need to, and I’m here for you.”

“Mr. Geto!!!!” A loud voice calls before a young blonde girl runs up to him. “We’re hungry!!!! Is she awake and is she okay???”

“Keep your voice down, Nanako,” he chides, before flashing you an apologetic smile. “She’s fine, but you need to use your inside voice around her.”

“Inside voice,” Nanako replies, lowering her tone to a low whisper. “Okay! But we’re huuuuuungry! Does she want to join us for lunch?”

“It’s noon?” you groan at him with an exasperated look. He stares back at you, apologetic.

“Well, would you like to? None of us would be opposed to lunch in bed,” he teases.

Nanako pumps her fists in the air.

“Yeah!!! And we can play Pokemon!”

“Nanako,” he chides again. “Inside voice! And she’ll need her space.”

You grin at Nanako’s antics, not minding in the slightest. “I’m really glad the twins are alright. Those people treated them so harshly.”

“They are,” he promises, then turns back to Nanako while scratching her head affectionately. “Order some food and bring Mimiko here. We’ll have lunch together, alright?”

Nanako nods and runs off.

“If I wasn’t feeling like shit, I’d cook for you again,” you offer, “It clearly looks like I’ll be out of commission for a bit longer than I want to, but if it means I get to spend more time with you, then I’m not complainin’!”

“There’s no need for that,” he replies, flattered by your comment as his heart swells with more pride. Your approval is all he cares about right now—because you don’t yet know the truth of the situation you have found yourself in; the guilt from lying to you is still weighing heavy on his heart. But you understand the real priorities—those humans are scum, which reassures him to a certain extent. “We’re happy with the pleasure of your company.”

“Man, stop buttering me up!” you whack him on the chest playfully. “I’m just little old me, not a big shot like you, Suguru.”

“Nonsense,” he retorts, “You’re plenty special.”

“And you’re still smooth talking!” you huff, before spluttering with laughter. “But alright! I’m seriously down for lots of rest and lots of food!”

“I’ll let Nanako know what to order for you. What would you like?”

You list out your typical go-tos, and he takes it all into account. He’s putting in his very best efforts to bring you the utmost comfort, and you don’t have to tell him you’re grateful for his hospitality. It’s safe to say he’s obviously not the type to offer something like this so openly.

Once you fully recover, he lets you go so you can fulfill your duties—much to his own reluctance. He’s become too attached to you—far more than he wants to admit to himself or to you.

Keeping you from doing what you believe is right is selfish of him, though he fears that you may not cross paths with him for a while.

“Aw, don’t fret, Suguru! I can come back, you know!” you assure him with an actual pat on his back.

“I’d love for you to,” Geto replies, his stare bordering on longing and tender. But of course, you don’t take it that way. You’re already turning your back, waving over your shoulder. “Take care.”

It’s at that moment he realizes he should have told you more, that he should have told you what happened, but he doesn’t want you to be afraid of him.

You do follow through on your promise, like you always do. Your character always proves to be unshakable. You’re a woman of your word, and he takes great pleasure in the fact.

For the last four or so years, you have returned in between your duties to spend time with him and the twins, who are more than thrilled to have you spend more time with them. They remember your kindness even before he burned it all to the ground.

Though you still have yet to learn the truth of what happened, he wants to maintain the illusion that everything’s still fine between you.

You make Geto more alive than he’s had since that dreaded day. Since he’s made that decision to stray from the conservative ways of jujutsu society. Full of fools who don’t understand the burdens they’ve forced upon people like him.

He strives for progress; he strives for harmony; he strives for peace. The only way to get that peace is to eliminate the cause of everyone’s suffering.

Geto just knows he’s clinging onto something from you he knows won’t last, but damn it, he can’t change what his heart wants. And it’s you. By his side. Through Hell or high water. There’s a point in protecting you, even if you aren’t traditionally what he accepts. He can’t bring himself to allow a good person like you die—there’s already so few of you out there.

He does wonder if you’ve caught onto the subtle changes in him. Well, it’s not too subtle to those close to him, or who have once been close to him—to them, it’s like he’s made a complete 180—but he wishes for things to reman more or less the same with you. You still view him through rose-colored lenses, and he would hate to shatter your perspective with the crushing reality that he’s not the hero you praise him to be, that he’s a monster.

Even if he kills that village for the safety of those girls, it doesn’t change that he doesn’t regret what he did, that he prefers that non-sorcerers be evicted from society…permanently.

“Are you going to keep staring into space, Suguru? Because those veggies ain’t gonna chop themselves,” you call out to him as you read along in your family recipe book while working with multiple pans and pots. Your culinary genius never fails to impress him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t appreciate a helping hand every now and then and he’s offered to numerous times.

He pulls himself out of his thoughts, picking up the large, sharpened premium chef’s knife and deftly chops the cucumbers, dices the onions, shallots, and bell peppers…

“You guys are so lucky I don’t charge you for all of this cookin’ I do for your conferences,” you snort, switching off some areas of the stove once those dishes are complete. “So how many members are we even feeding? This could feed entire villages, you know!”

“We have accumulated a staggering number of devotees and members,” Geto chuckles as he tosses the variety of veggies into a large ceramic bowl before handing it to you. He tries to ignore the softness of your skin as your fingers brush against his. He can’t lose sight of the reality—he’s a liar, and he has yet to come clean about his actions. He can’t entertain his feelings right now.

Maybe he shouldn’t bring it up while you’re in an environment with knives present.

“I really do appreciate everything you do here. The girls have really come to love you. Even some other members of the family have praised you, and that’s a rare thing, given how guarded all of them are,” Geto tells you with a winning smile on his face.

He doesn’t appear as worn and torn as he had all those years ago—well, four years is not that long but it’s enough to drastically change a person—and he can tell you’ve noticed. He may have found comfort in troubling ideals, but there’s a part of him that believes that you still see goodness in him, that he’s striving for the greater good, ultimately.

“Here you go again buttering me up like I’m about to these veggies,” you snicker as you toss them into the pot before twisting around to face him. “I think we’re all good to go here. Thanks for your help, Suguru! These dishes should be done right on time.”

Geto flashes you a smile before taking one of your free hands into his, kissing gently along your knuckles.

“Thank you,” he praises, violet eyes flitting upward to meet yours. “You have no idea how grateful we are for you.”

You roll your eyes as you retract your hand. “Alright, you. Enough of that. Leave me to the kitchen now. Actually, wait—!” you start while scooping a bit of stew from a large ceramic pot with a ladle, before presenting the piping hot sample to his lips. “—Taste test?”

You tip the ladle into his mouth, and he hums, smacking his lips as he judges the flavors. He then makes a pleased sound, sipping the rest of the sample with gusto, a little bit of the stew spraying on your hand.

Ah. An open opportunity. He lowers his lips to the area of your hand that still had some leftover stew, pressing his lips to the inflicted area and lightly slurping the leftovers up before pulling away with a little grin.

You make a mock displeased face before wiping your hand clean. “Ya nasty. Okay, now you can leave me to my devices.”

He does just that—frankly because he doesn’t want to test your patience while you’re in the cooking zone—and retires to the common area where Nanako and Mimiko are playing some dumb mobile game that’s completely taken up their free time between training sessions. Geto isn’t going to be one to rob them of their youth like those villagers were going to, so he tries his best not to be too strict with his rules about particularly electronics.

Especially considering Nanako’s cursed technique…

The meeting runs smoothly. You do stay behind to greet some of the members of the family you have met in the past. Even Miguel seems pleased to see you, which is a rarity for him, but it’s likely because they both share a love for the culinary arts. Regardless of the reasons, Geto is just happy to see you finding a place here—a home away from your home, where you had everything from you taken away just like he did.

Once the meeting concludes, Geto insists you stay over for a few nights. You at first try to decline, reminding him that you can’t exactly leave people in the more rural areas of Japan unattended, but he swears to make it worth your while.

An offer you can’t refuse, mainly because you’ve grown attached to him too.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been fully honest with you,” he brings up one evening, as you’re assisting him with some household work in his temple. You offer to in spite of the numerous times he refuses. You just like to be of service where you can. “About what happened in that village.”

“Why bring that up now? It’s been years,” you answer as you wipe off a bead of sweat from your brow with the back of your wrist.

“Because what I’m going to tell you might change everything between us. I’ve been selfish.”

“Suguru, you’re scaring me,” you remark, “What happened out there? I was out cold for most of it.”

“I know,” he replies, expression grim as he wipes his hands with a cloth. “I think it’s best if you take a seat for this.”

He leads you to the common area and sits you down on one of the couches there. He begins telling you that the villagers aren’t as open to the existence of sorcerers as your village was, that they threatened to execute the girls believing that they were the cause of their misfortune. He braces himself for the icy cold sting of rejection as he admits that because of that, he massacred the entire village and took you, and the girls, with him out of there to safety.

But instead of a backhanded slap across the face, or a lot of shouting or yelling, he meets your gaze to find your expression blank. Like you’re grappling with everything he’s just spilled to you—something he’s kept from you for all these years because he’s selfish and he can’t help that side to himself.

“I don’t blame you if this means you don’t want to see me again. I’ve done terrible things, and I will continue to do terrible things…” Geto can’t bear to look at your blank expression anymore and he flits his gaze elsewhere, resting his hands on your knees. “Sometimes we must do the things we mustn’t…for the greater good. For the protection of those who deserve protection. F….for those who truly matter in this world. You deserve protection. The girls deserve protection. But that village…they’re nothing but scum better off erased. I don’t regret a single thing I’ve done.”

Deciding it best to face the music, he meets your eyes again. Blank. Expressionless. Void.

Like him.

“But I don’t regret meeting you,” he goes on, eyes softening as he feels his heart drop to his stomach when you’re unresponsive, likely from shock. He squeezes your knees gently. “I don’t regret saving you, protecting you. I know I should have told you the truth sooner, but I didn’t want things between us to change.” He rests his head on your lap, voice strained. “I didn’t want to lose what we had. I didn’t want to lose you.”

The silence hangs in the air between them, constricting him like invisible chains around his neck and torso. He buries his face into his lap, awaiting your ultimate judgment—because he’s accepted a long time ago that he is indeed beneath someone as pure and as kind as you are. He’s not once deserved your kindness or this ‘common decency’ you so often preached because that’s the kind of person you are. He’s admired you for your character. He hasn’t stopped admiring you for your character.

His lips begin to quiver, and he feels a wetness down his cheeks, and, stunned, he raises his hand to find they’ve been stained with tears. You haven’t said a word since he confessed his sins. He doesn’t regret those sins.

“They were people too,” you mumble, digging your fingers into the fabric of your pants. “You…you really killed them? All of them? I-I know I’ve heard reports of a natural disaster taking the village, but all this time…that was to cover up your crime?”

“Yes,” he confirms, bloodshot eyes meeting your dead ones. “As you know, the existence of sorcerers is rare, and thus when such occurrences happen, and they do—perhaps not to such a degree like my own crimes—they have to cover it up to the general public. So they declared the village was overtaken by an earthquake. But the reality is I cursed them all to death.”

“You…” You hug your knees to your chest, shivering. “You—you…why?”

“Not everyone is like you. Not everyone is understanding and kind like you. They were going to kill two innocent girls!” He wants you to understand that particular detail—if he plays a bit more on your empathetic nature, does that mean he has a shot at keeping you in spite of the sins he’s committed? “You do understand where I’m coming from, don’t you? Those villagers you tried to protect in your village, your family died protecting them!”

“Yes,” you breathe, remembering your lost loved ones, your eyes now shimmering from sadness at their memories. “They were heroes. They did what they believed was right.”

“And I did what I believed was right,” he insists, desperation evident in his tone as he squeezes your knees too tight, to the point his veins begin to pop. “I saved you and the girls from those wretched, vile people.”

“You did save us,” you mumble, “That’s true. But the villagers, they didn’t all deserve to die…”

“I know you must be conflicted, but please understand where I’m coming from,” he bites back a whimper. “I don’t want to lose you. You’ve become dear to me and to the girls.”

“Suguru…” you trail off, but then you’re taken aback as his hands move up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the tears pricking at the corners of your stunning eyes.

“A man does what he mustn’t to protect those who matter to him most,” he whispers as he draws his face closer to yours, until his lips are barely against yours. “For her. To be worthy of her. Do you believe me?”

“I want to,” you whisper back, your eyes dropping to his lips then back to meet his eyes. Your breath hitches as you force down a sob. “I want to, but this is—Suguru, this is…a lot…”

“Then try to believe me. Try to trust me. That’s all I ask of you. I know I don’t deserve it,” he says, his lips teasing yours, hovering so close yet not quite meeting. His warm breath fans over your lips.

“But I am nothing without you,” he finishes, his words coming out in a low, raw whisper—he sounds so jaded from the horrors he’s witnessed all of his life. His eyes unravels so much to you, a man who has known too much violence and too much tragedy, and in this moment, a need for you to accept him as he is—hero or not, criminal or not.

Finally, his lips meet yours. His softness takes you aback, no urgency in the kiss just yet. His moves move languidly against your own, coaxing soft sounds out of you. He can tell you’re hesitating, frozen by the action, but his persistence encourages you; he’s frightened, that this is the only chance he might ever have with you. You shyly return the kiss, uncertain. You’re breathless when he pulls back, his entire expression softening.

“Wh-what was that for?” you murmur, your fingers brushing absently over your lips, still tingling from the kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he confesses, his voice lowering an octave as he reaches out, brushing his fingers through your bangs. “I love you.”

“Suguru, I…” you stammer, your body still trembling, a war of unfamiliar emotions rushing through your mind.

“Shh,” he whispers, drawing his lips closer to yours once more. “There’s so much I want to try with you. Can you try to trust me?”

You gulp, averting your gaze as your heart races. You find it difficult to breathe. “I…”

“Do speak up,” he purrs, as a teasing smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“I don’t know if I can wait.” The playful edge to his tone catches him off-guard, but he frames his words to make it seem like you don’t have a real choice on the matter. Trust is no longer something you can withhold from him, even if you want to, and maybe that’s selfish of him, but he’s come to accept that he’s no virtuous hero a long time ago.

“O-okay,” you squeak, the sound of your (reluctant) submission charges something within him. An all too eager Geto scoops you up effortlessly into his arms, carrying you princess style as his lips trail kisses all over your face and forehead. The tension in his body melts off of him as he whisks you away to his bedroom.

“I’ll prove to you that I’m still the man you know,” he murmurs into your skin as he rests you on the feathery mattress. “I’m not a hero, I’m afraid,” he adds softly, speaking to himself more than to you. “No, not a hero…I’m far too selfish for that.”

He rests a hand on your cheek, a calloused thumb brushing along your soft skin with a reverence that catches you off-guard. He leans in, his hovering over yours, your breaths mixing.

“But I can still be the man for you,” he murmurs between heated kisses along your jaw. “The man you deserve.” His voice dips in a rawer way.

“Suguru…” Your hands instinctively reach up to grip his shoulders.

“I’ve…never done this before…” you confess, your voice barely a whisper, laden with nerves.

He pauses, a low hum vibrating in his throat as he kisses you once more, dragging his lips along the edge of your mouth before pulling back with a low, fervent growl. The intensity in his gaze is far too much.

“Then I’ll be gentle, my dear,” he vows, his voice a low rasp as he presses his forehead against yours. I’m yours to use as much as you like.”

He moves to unbutton your top, revealing your delicious figure. There’s a tremble in his hands as he explores your body. He traces the swells of your breasts before pulling them out from your bra, grinding his teeth against a nipple before sucking it into his mouth with a loud slurp.

You gasp, another flush blooming across your features. “Wait, Suguru—!”

He ignores you as he suckles a bit on the nipple, eyebrows furrowing as some milk splatters on his tongue. He hums at the exquisite taste before jis bewildered eyes meet yours, removing your nipple from his mouth with a pop to speak.

“How are you lactating?” he asks, not doing much to hide how giddy he is from this new discovery. He definitely plans on taking advantage of this for more than one occasion.

“Um…partially diet and uh…herbal medicine stuff…” you flush, covering your face from embarrassment. “S-some new mothers face difficulties with nursing so some remedies I created help with that…and I have to test them on myself, so…”

“I see,” he groans as he laves his tongue around your nipple, flicking off leftover droplets of milk. “Fascinating.”

He closes his mouth over your perky nipple and suctions hard, groaning at the taste. More flavorful than any meal you have ever cooked for him, and he can’t get enough of the pitchy moans you’re working so hard to bite down.

One of his hands fondles your unattended breasts, and he coos at how soft your mounds are, flicking his finger over your nipple as he greedily drinks from the other one.

“Fuck,” he moans into your skin. “Don’t hold back on those beautiful noises. You should enjoy it.”

“Suguru…it’s just…embarrassing…” you admit through a pitched voice. He laughs a bit at that, not to mock you (shockingly), but because he wants to ravish you.

He parts the nipple he assaulted with a kiss before switching, suckling on one nipple while a finger toys with the opposite. He prays that he will be the only one who gets to have you like this, and he intends to see that through. He doesn’t like the idea of you being with anyone else. The thought makes his blood burble beneath his skin.

He shifts gears, flipping you over so that now you’re on top of him. You yelp from shock, but it’s muffled as his lips plunge against yours, his tongue invading your mouth and gliding along the edges of your teeth. His hands snake down your waist and hips, stopping at the hem of your pants where he tucks his fingers inside and pulls them off along with your panties (which he definitely plans to keep to himself).

He purrs your name, and you let out a low whimper.

“I meant what I said before,” he murmurs against your lips before pulling away, sliding you up until your cunt is hovering over his face. “I’m yours to use.”

“I-I don’t know what to, um, exactly do…Suguru…” Your face is beet red.

He chuckles at that, sliding his tongue up your folds. “In that case, I’ll guide you. Worry not.”

He shoves your cunt into his tongue, twisting it between your folds and a shaky gasp leaves your lips. He digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, close to your crack as his tongue laves over your sensitive skin, your own slick already building from the slightest treatment. He hums, tongue flicking over your clit as his eyes never leave yours, admiring your flushed face, your rosy, parted lips as more breathy moans escape them.

From his focal point, you truly are a goddess, a true beauty—further proof that he’s truly beneath you in every conceivable way.

“Suguru…” Oh, his name rolling off your lips sounds so good, so sweet.

“Don’t be shy,” he purrs, his breath fanning over your folds before plunging the wet muscle into your fluttering entrance, making you choke on another gasp as you grasp for something—you reach for the top of the headboard to maintain a semblance of balance as his tongue fucks repeatedly into your spongy walls.

His grip on your ass cheeks tighten as his tongue ravishes you, and he growls when he feels your gummy walls clenching around him. You’re coming, and you throw your head back as you do, shouting as you’re unfamiliar with the sensation.

“Thank you for blessing me with such a beautiful sight,” he praises, tone full of reverence as he pinches one of your ass cheeks, making you squeak again. “My mouth isn’t the only thing free for your use, my love.”

He guides you back down to his lap, where his growing erection through his robe is evident. He grinds up into your pussy, still drenched from your arousal. “My cock, my fingers, anything. They’re all yours.”

He grabs one of your hands and rests it on his clothed erection. He groans your name. “Do you feel what you do to me? What more can I do to show you—that I am the man for you?”

“I…I don’t know,” you admit, tone wistful. “Suguru, I told you. I’ve…never done this before.”

He adjusts your positions, taking a moment to completely disrobe and reveal his bare body to you. He moves to cup your face, brushing his thumb along your lips.

“I’ll make this worth it for you,” he purrs, as he grinds the tip of his cock against your pussy. You bite back a moan in spite of yourself. “Can you trust me? I understand it’s too much to ask—”

“—Yes,” you murmur, and as he presses a kiss to your lips, he pushes the tip of his cock inside, experimentally. Sensing any discomfort from you before he rests his back against the headboard, guiding you up and down his girthy cock. His lips trail down your jaw and neck, growling into your skin as he keeps a gentle, but far from slow pace. Trying to get you used to the sensation, to the feeling of being filled to the hilt by his impressive size. He doesn’t want to hurt you. His fingers sink into your waist, as he purrs your name over and over.

“I’m yours,” he vows as his intense gaze never leaves yours. “I’m yours, my love. That much is true.”

He shouts as he comes, and you soon follow after and he’s moaning throughout as your walls clench around his girth. You slowly come down from the hot flash in ragged breaths, yours syncing with his.

“I’m yours,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose against yours. You glance down at him, chest still heaving as you catch your breath.

“I know,” you say, as his hands intertwine with yours. “I’m yours too.”

[predestined-one16]

«Ferrari fired wrong driver»

Can someone please explain to me how Carlos Sainz fans can be so delusional?

«I think Ferrari have backed the wrong horse. Carlos knows it as well and wants to give them this as a reminder! Good on him!!!»

«I like Charles, but my issue with him is that he’s inconsistent. Ferrari has essentially dissed Seb, Kimi and now Carlos to back him and he hasn’t proven to me that he can carry a team and win. WDC»

«Sainz is the better driver, thats why they held Leclerc on next to Lewis»

1) Just simple stats from the F1 website:

Drivers: Sainz/Leclerc

Seasons: 10/7

Grands Prix: 206/147

Podiums: 27/41

Wins: 4/8

Points: 1256.5/1405

Poles: 6/26

2) Mexico2024, Singapore2023, Silverstone2023, Austria2023

«We did a double but it wasn't my business»

«Gap to Sainz target 3 / Yeah copy, i'll try but then i'm at risk»

3)«More experienced» Sainz, who is faster only due to the new power unit.

«More experienced» Sainz, who is faster only due to DRS and cutting corners.

«More experienced» Sainz, who slowed down his teammate.

«More experienced» Sainz, around whom the car was built.

«next year's car has good modifications compared to what made him uncomfortable in 2022» - both 2022 and 2023(beginning) cars were shit. and after that someone dares to say that Charles can only win in a perfect car, while Sainz can cope with a wheelbarrow. Excuse me, but who creates this wheelbarrow?

4) «Carlos owes nothing to the team that abandoned him»

YES, he DOES. There are 20 drivers on the grid, reserve drivers and rookies from other formulas. Since you like to point out that they are drivers and they should race, understand that it is okay not to renew contracts. It is still the team he is under contract with until the last lap of the last race in Abu Dhabi.

The way he treats the team with disregard is unprofessional. Just because you're leaving a team doesn't mean you have to burn everything to hell before it.

5)«Carlos doesn't complain about Charles to the media, that's how a mature person should behave» A mature person doesn't whine on the radio for fear of being overtaken. BECAUSE IT ONLY SEEMS TO WORK ONE WAY.

Carlos Sinz be like:

Fulfil Race Agreements: ❌❌❌

Fulfil Media Agreements:✅✅✅

6) Charles: says outright that he doesn't think Carlos was favored in Las Vegas

Carlos fans: What?! Leclerc says he thinks Carlos was favored? How dare he?!

REWATCH FUCKING SINGAPORE23

7) In the end, he tries to show other teams that he is better than Charles and "they should see who they have lost", but only shows everyone that he is ready to spit on team orders, points for the constructors' championship, and thinks only about himself.

And I'm not denying that Ferrari screwed up (I'm not less angry with them) with Sainz's pit stop, I'm not saying that he HAD to give way to Charles, but again, we're talking about points for the team. All this crap with DRS could have led to Charles simply not having time to overtake Max and they would have lost points. They ALREADY lost points in Mexico, +3 DNF Sainz (+1DNF Charles, P11 and P14 during the upgrade test), he should be fighting McLaren for every point, but instead he does what he does. It's one thing to fight for your podium, and completely another to let your teammate down.

[bellarkeselection]

Giving Second Chances

Gifs above don't belong to me they belong to their rightful owner

Wattpad request from Silverose365 Reader is a trouble teen the state is having trouble with so after multiple failed foster families the state calls John. The reader accidentally messed up on a job and gets called out until Rip makes a different choice than her previous foster family's.

John and Rip followed Sheriff Haskell out into one of the barns on the ranch. The three stops in the entrance seeing someone peaking their head over one of the hay bails. John slowly walked forward trying to not scare the girl off that looked to be a young teenager reminding him of meeting young Rip. “Hey there, kid. I ain’t gonna hurt you. Do you wanna come talk with us?”

“Where’s the girl from?” Rip crossed his arms looking at Sheriff Haskell.

He responded to John’s right hand. “She’s been bounced from foster home to another. She’s got a bad streak of breaking the law. I got a call saying the foster system was sending her to him until she bolted. Thankfully she ended up where they we’re taking her. Bringing her to John.”

Lifting my gaze up to the older cowboy guy wearing a tan cowboy hat I watched him bend down to her level. “Are you going to send me back to foster care….I don’t do good in that place. They all say I’m too old and reckless.” I had been moved around where I just started running away every time they sent me back in the system.

“I ain’t sending ya back. My name is John Dutton, what’s your name darlin’?” The rancher asked me offering his hand and I allowed him to pull me to stand up with him seeing another guy by the sheriff that was dressed in black with dark hair and hard eyes staring at me.

I nervously responded back to him. “Y/n. My name is Y/n, sir…what are doing now?”

“You come work for me.” John said looking at the man calling his name so I could put it with his face before he left us in the barn together. “Rip, you’re gonna teach her the way I did you.”

It had been a few months since that day and this is the longest that I have ever been in compared to my other foster homes. Placing a dark brown hat on my head I slide my brown boots on heading to the Yellowstone barn. Throwing a saddle on Lioyd’s horse I started tying it on until I heard one of the bunkhouse cowboys coming over to me. I believe Walker was his name. “It looks like a a cowgirl doesn’t know how a saddle goes on a horse.”

“What…what did I do?” I panicked beginning to twist the sterups and the back sinch backwards before I ran my hands through my hair.

Walker came over on his horse. “You put the saddle on backwards kid.”

“Crap, crap.” I mumbled under my breath quickly fixing it until John came over to me seeing that I avoided his gaze mumbling to myself unknown that he could hear me. “How could I put the entire saddle on backwards. That was stupid. I should have known that.”

It wasn’t the first the older rancher had seen her be hard on herself after she made some mistakes or didn’t be s quick as what the cowboys had told her to do something. And she would end up beating herself up over failing. John just hoped the girl saw that she was a good hand like he did. Because she was almost the same way when he found Rip years ago.

Walking through the barn I nodded to my boss Rip Wheeler who was walking with his horse when he noticed me. He climbed up on his horse addressing in my direction. “Y/n, got saddle Mr. Dutton’s horse. You’ll be riding it today with us to learn how to ride.”

Running inside the barn I took the reins of the boss’s horse tying the rope on the side of the wooden fence. Tossing the saddle over the horse I quickly tied it together. Putting me foot in the stirrups up Rip called my name. “Woah you think you’re forgetting something kiddo.” Shifting my gaze down to the ground I hadn’t noticed my hat fell off during the process.

“Ah shit…sorry sir.” Snatching it up I placed it on my head quick climbing back on the horse knowing he didn’t like wasting daylight and I always followed his instructions as fast as he said them.

Rip had me following behind him where I griped the reins in my hands bouncing with the horse watching the others herding the cattle in front of us. Normally he was leading the pack but not today. “Go herd up the ones on the side that get loose. You got that?” He kicked his horse to go when I nodded in understanding.

Running down the valley I followed after one cafe that got loose leading it back to the group. Staying close to the group another one got loose where I grabbed my rope throwing it over it head trying to lead it back but it just picked up sped. I screamed when it managed to pull me off my horse and I fell into the dirt. “No, no,…ah fuck!”

“Woah girl, are you alright?” Lioyd came over on his horse holding the reins of mine since it ran off towards him so he brought my horse back over to me.

Holding my right wrist I winced when I tried to bend it a little. “I think I just tweaked my wrist a bit….I thought I roped it the right way.”

“You roped it around the neck when it should have been around the waist so he wouldn’t run on ya. Climb back on your horse and help us finish this out.” Rip responded sternly beside his older friend.

Scurring to my feet I put one foot in the stirrup using my left hand to support most of my weight than my right. I should have done better, sir.” I apologize when Rip glared at me watching me ride off with Lioyd figuring that she meant well.

Once nightfall had come and everyone had their horses up for the night I didn’t come down to the bunkhouse for dinner since I was staying in the spare room of Rip and Beth’s house. Brushing my hair away from my face I had banded my wrist as best as I could and put everything I had in the duffel bag foster care had given to me. I just needed to wait until everyone went to bed to run rather then wait till morning already knowing what would happen. I had messed up way more than someone my age should. “I’m too old to get adopted….I will be better off just waiting until I’m eighteen. Only two more years left being someone else’s problem..”

“When I said don’t think you deserve this. I meant it literally but I didn’t you’d run from it.” Whipping my head around I gasped through tears seeing Rip was leaning in the doorway of my bedroom.

Croaking through tears I scooted up against the pillow and headband avoiding his gaze. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“Cause you didn’t come down for dinner and you ain’t missed a meal since the day you came here. You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” He presses on with his tone being both stern but went softer when he could hear me lightly crying in front of him.

Hugging my knees to my chest I buried my face into them sobbing even more when I struggle to get the words out already sensing what he was going to say next. “I’m a screw up here, Mr. Wheeler. I can’t do half the jobs you give me right…I don’t have great confidence even when I put in as much effort as I can. You see me exactly like everyone else does…a reckless teenager who won’t make it any longer in getting adopted. Cause I don’t follow directions good….so you’re done with me. You’re going to send me back tomorrow.”

“Where the hell did you get an idea like that, sweetheart?” He blurted out raising his voice in shock.

Peaking over my knees with my hair in my eyes I whispered back to him. “That’s what every family I have been with does. Why would you be any different to me?”

“Because you are the hardest working foster kid I have seen. You’ve got good manners and put in almost more effort than any of those bunkhouse boys do. And you ain’t any reckless than most teenagers are.” He came over and sat beside me on the bed removing his black hat when he went to take something out of his jacket. He unfolded a paper and handed it to me. “You are a darn good kid, Y/n. I am hoping to help you improve your confidence in time being here.”

Scanning my eyes over the paper in my small hands I couldn’t hardly believe it. “You want to adopt me..but I….thank you Rip.” Flinging my arms around his neck he was taken back not used to seeing me giving any kind of emotion like this.

“You’re welcome, darling. But promise you will still work as hard as you would if you weren’t gonna be my kid.” He hugged me briefly until he made me look in his eyes when he barely broke the embrace.

Nodding through happy tears I grinned up at the cowboy and lead hand of John Dutton. “Don’t worry I will..uh dad.”

Footsteps came down the hallway where we both glanced over over shoulders noticing that it was his wife. “You better call me mom and come eat this hamburger helper otherwise you’ll face the bear.”

“Yes ma’am.” I jumped off his lap rushing down the hallway making it to the kitchen table almost shoving food into my mouth overjoyed to actually have a place to call home.

Beth smiled at her husband when he stood by her in the hallway watching you. “She’s our kid now, baby.”

“She’s our second change at one and I gotta say she’s a pretty good one.” He responded looping his hand with hers giving her a gentle and the pair joined you at the dinner table.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[apomaro-mellow]

Runaway Royalty 3

Part 2

At the proposition, Steve and Robin shared a look during which an entire conversation was had.

It’s not a part of our plan. They’ve got numbers on us. They don’t seem like they’d leave us for dead. Especially if we joined. They’re the biggest threat on this trail. We can use them to get where we’re going.

“My sister and I are headed south”, Steve said. “Is your pack going that way?”

“We’re actually headed west”, a young man with curly hair said.

Steve and Robin shared a look again and the rogues around them were just as dumbfounded as the first time.

“Do you think this is normal for them?”, someone whispered.

“I know it’s not normal for me”, someone else muttered.

“We’ll go with you”, Robin answered, arms crossed. “But don’t expect us to be all cutthroat and deceptive and stuff.”

“Oh of course, not without introductions. Bandit Prince Eddie, at your service”, the alpha bowed. “My fellow rogues, Gareth, Jeffrey, Harold, I would trust them with my life.”

The three nodded their heads as their names were said. But they weren’t the only ones in the camp. Robin gestured to the rest milling about, going on as if there weren’t two newcomers to their den.

“And those guys?” They looked older. And significantly more rough than Eddie and his peers.

Eddie grinned. “Folks from my father’s old pack.”

“What happened to the Bandit King?”, Steve asked.

The man had been a scourge for decades both in the kingdom of Loch Nora and the kingdom of Forest Hills. His activity had calmed down somewhat in the past few years, but the legend was enough to keep travelers alert on the main roads, usually.

“My old man fell in love. And renounced his wicked ways.” Eddie gave Steve a meaningful look and for just a second, things seemed to stand still.

“We’re nearly ready to go”, one of the other members of the pack announced.

That was when the royal twins realized the activity going around the camp wasn’t just the pack moving about, they were packing up, getting ready to move. It made sense. One couldn’t be a roving band if they didn’t actually rove.

“Perfect”, Eddie said. “I want us in caravan formation.”

“You guys have formations?”, Robin questioned.

“Leading a pack takes strategy, whether you’re a leader of a household or of criminals.”

Steve and Robin rested on a large log for a few minutes while the last bits of camp were put away and then the whole group was off. Eddie walked towards the front of the pack. Robin and Steve walked alongside a horse-driven cart. Eddie talked with one of his friends, Jeff, but they couldn’t hear from where they were.

“Is this really a good idea?”, Robin asked.

“It is an idea”, Steve simply replied.

“Hey what was that back there?”, she suddenly changed the subject.

“Hm?”

“Don’t act coy, it looks stupid on you. You know what I mean. There was a moment where you and that Eddie guy-it was gross.”

“Oh grow up”, Steve rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with a little romance? Aren’t we on an adventure?”

“Romance? With the prince of thieves? I should have never read those swashbuckling tales to you.”

“But you did”, Steve reminded her. “And now I can choose. So why not Eddie?”

Robin’s nose scrunched. “No accounting for taste, I suppose.”

“Please, you don’t know what it’s like. You basically had your choice of partners.” Everyone wanted the hand of the dashing alpha who would run day rule an entire kingdom. Compared to him, Robin left behind a veritable harem. Her betrothed hadn’t been chosen yet. Steve was the one who had been trapped.

They continued to walk until dusk, when they set up a temporary camp. The pack sat around the fire, winding down from a day’s travels, people forming their own little groups within it all. 

“Tomorrow some of us will head to town to get a few more supplies. After that, we’ll begin our journey in earnest. It’s time for the Corroded Coffin to find a new home!”

There were cheers and raised cups to that and even the prince and princess felt a little mirthful. They slept on bedrolls next to each other, it felt the beginning of a grand adventure indeed.

-----------------------

Eddie held the feed bucket up to the horse when Jeff came up to him. He knew the most pragmatic of their group approaching him could only mean a lecture, so he hoped to butter him up a bit.

“Jeffrey! The morning sun makes you glow like an angel from above~”

Jeff crossed his arms. “Why are you letting those two tag along? They were just supposed to be marks.”

Eddie knew that. Knew from their clothing that they came from money, or at least had it on them. It should have been nothing to overpower them and take whatever they wanted off the siblings. So why hadn’t they?

“I just think it’s a good idea to bring up our numbers. Can never have too many thieves”, he said, not meeting his friend’s gaze.

“And I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with one of them being a pretty omega?”

Eddie scoffed about three times before waving a hand and shaking his head. “Listen to you! Me! Getting all moon-eyed over someone I just met! That would be terribly ironic, would it not? Give me more credit, Jeff, please. I just think they would be great additions. And if I’m proven wrong, they can be just as good as scapegoats.”

“Riiiight.” Jeff leaned against the cart the horses were already attached to. “It wouldn’t just be ironic, you know. It would be stupidly hypocritical.”

Eddie swallowed. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry about me. I’m not that flighty.”

“You’ve already taken flight once”, Jeff said before leaving Eddie to his feeding.

Once fed, Eddie decided it would be him, Gareth as well as their two newest recruits to go into town. “You both look the most reputable among us”, he had reasoned. “And I wanna see what you’re made of.”

The town was just over a small ridge and at this bright hour was bustling with activity. Eddie grinned as he found a mark. He leaned into Steve’s space. “Watch this”, he said before walking past a man, bumping shoulders briefly and walking off with his coin purse.

“The classic move. But Gareth here is a master at the art of misdirection”, Eddie said as Gareth got to work.

Steve and Robin watched Gareth when he walked up to a booth, distracting the merchant and seeming very interested in the fruit on one part of the booth while using his other hand to stuff nuts into a pouch at his side. In the end, Gareth traded a bit of coin for a few apples and the merchant was none the wiser.

“Alright, that was admittedly impressive”, Robin praised. “For common criminals”, she teased.

“Oh? You wanna show us how it’s done?”, Eddie smirked at the challenge.

Robin grabbed Steve’s wrist, much to his protest. What was she doing? They’d never stolen anything bigger than a pastry from the royal kitchens. And really was it stealing when it came from your own home?

“We can’t-”

“Yes we can, get out of your head. Besides, if you want to run with thieves, you’ve got to play the part”, she reminded him. “Just follow my lead.”

Robin’s eyes zeroed in on their target. An older gentleman, just by a few years it looked, was taking his time in choosing the proper produce between an orange carrot and a yellow one. Robin nudged Steve hard with her elbow and he rolled his eyes before going forward.

Neither Eddie nor Gareth could hear what he said, but it all came down to body language. The way the omega’s eyelashes fluttered, leaned over slightly, allowed his eyes to rake up and down the other man’s body, even putting his hand on his arm briefly. All while Robin tried to creep up from behind and reach into his pocket.

She was able to pull a handful of something, but flicked her wrist on the release too hard, making her presence known.

“Hey! What the hell!?”

Robin was frozen in her spot and Steve was the one to grab her arm and pull her through the crowd. Eddie and Gareth ran after as the man gave chase to reclaim what was stolen.

“You and your noodle hands! Do you undress a lover with those fingers!?”, Steve shouted as they raced away.

“These noodles fixed your wreck of a hair!”

They were able to turn a corner and lose him so that they could catch their breaths. Robin opened her hand to count their haul only to be met with a bunch of pebbles.

“What the fuck?”

The two practiced thieves cackled and nearly went to their knees. Tears in his eyes, Eddie stood up straight.

“You get points for effort. And Steve here gets a ribbon for his part.”

Robin rolled her eyes, about to retort that she played an equal part and it would have been a victorious haul had it been actual money when a fanfare of trumpets sounded. A crier began to shout as a crowd gathered.

Steve’s heart began to pound in his ears as only bits and pieces of the message were relayed to him and he felt the sensation of shackles around his ankles, or of sinking into mud, or being carried off by an undertow.

Prince Stephen, reported stolen, high reward…

Robin had to shake him out of his reverie. “Did you hear that?!”

“What? Yes. What?”

“Prince Edwin of Forest Hills is missing!”, she shouted to his face.

“What?”

“See, I knew you weren’t listening. Where do you think he’s gone?” Then she whispered. “Do you think it was cold feet?”

“How do two royal siblings go missing?”, Eddie asked the wind. His face appeared a tad pale. “Stolen? With Loch Nora’s defenses?”

“One royal is one thing, but two?”, Gareth agreed.

“Technically three”, Robin held up three fingers that Steve quickly slapped down.

Thankfully, their odd energy went unnoticed within the general unease of the crowd. Prince Stephen, Princess Robin, and Prince Edwin were unaccounted for. Steve swallowed.

“We should go.”

“Agreed”, Eddie said.

They actually grabbed a few things before returning to the camp, where Gareth promptly announced the news of the royal siblings’ disappearance. There was a confused murmur among them when a beta stood forward. Steve recalled his name was Greenley.

“We’re all thinking it, right? A prince and a princess missing? With a high reward?”

Eddie shook his head. “No.”

Robin froze and Steve bit his lip. “I also think no”, he said.

“That money could have us set for life!”

“Between us, we could find a couple of royals.”

“We got underground contacts!”

“No! NO!!”, Eddie roared, regaining control of the conversation. “Look, I know it’s tempting. But can’t take that risk. They’re probably spreading the message which means every bounty hunter from here to the shore is looking for them. Dangerous folk.”

“We’re supposed to be dangerous folk”, Gareth pointed out. 

“If use two new ones get a vote, that’s three for no”, Robin pointed to herself, Steve, and Eddie.

Steve nodded. “So three to…”, he started to count in earnest.

“You’re still outvoted”, Greenley said. “And since this is a majority rule, not a monarchy”, he glared at Eddie challengingly.

“He’s right”, Jeff said.

Eddie sighed. “Shit….shit shit fuck shit shit fuck”, he started to pace around. “If this goes sideways-”

“We’ll be so rich things can go whatever direction they want”, Gareth said.

“Gre~at”, Robin gave a tight smile.

“Perfect”, Steve’s smile was equally strained.

Part 4

[kaiju-krew]

Hey there! Firstly, big big fan of your art and headcanons, ty for your cool and awesome big brain ❤️ Now that you’ve seen the movie, I’m wondering what your thoughts are on Shimo??? I’ve just seen impressions of her so scattered. (I saw your post on how she will NOT be treated as a pet, and I so appreciate that.)

I will say, for me the ‘old gal’ vibes are so strong and I’m here for it. Like when Goji blasts his atomic breath into the sky at the end and she’s looking at it with such awe and her cute super gummy smile, it reminds me of when a grandma gets shown some common piece of technology that the rest of us are used to, but she just can’t heckin believe it because she lives in a damn cave??? I loved that.

hi hi! omg u think i have a big brain...... compliment of the century.... i must have ppl fooled bcuz i am viscerally dumb most of the time

anywAYS. gxk spoilers below (and a lot of ranting)

shimo my beloved💙 i appreciate most interpretations of her, besides people who are just straight up caling her a dog. and like, not in the way i’d compare goji to a cat? for me it's more mannerisms based, so for goji my main expression/mannerism inspirations are cats, wolves, and komodo dragons (obviously), and for mosu it's owls and cats, with a crumb of horses because of their 'ear' communication so i use that with her antennae.

sorry for tangent but anyways. i dont need someone barking at me that i call goji a cat/draw him acting like a cat so calling shimo ‘kong’s pet dog’ is fine. i think its the difference between goji having the personality i characterize him with + mannerisms inspired by other animals, vs. him having no personality besides Being A Cat. like, he’s a dumbfuck but he’s clearly an intelligent creature capable of communication and understanding. i make a lot of shitposts but truly in my personal hc i’d never reduce him to ‘pet level intelligence’

i think i’m extra touchy about people calling her ‘kong’s pet’ because like. dawg. did you watch the movie? she was JUST freed from being skar’s slave/beast of burden/abused pet whatever you wanna call it. why would you want her to become another creature’s pet again?(obviously minus the abuse) idk mannn it just feels…. reductive somehow. she clearly shows intelligence and understanding when she realizes what’s happening during the fight and helps to kill skar. i just refuse to reduce her entire character to kong’s pet status bcuz that makes me uncomfortable asf.

as a disclaimer, you’re welcome to have whatever hc you enjoy. me expressing my personal thoughts on the matter isn’t an attack on anyone who characterizes her that way, i’m just not interested in engaging with it in the slightest.

DOUBLE ANYWAYS i just needed to get that outta my system. TIME FOR CUTE FUN IDEAS YAHOOO

i’m seeing mixed info about her age so idk where she actually sits there?? i remember seeing something like she’s the First Titan but i also think the novelization of the movie said she’s only 3 million years old?? when im p sure they’ve said goji is 250+ million years old so…. i have no clue there lol. personally she feels less jaded and grumpy than goji does to me so my brain automatically sees her as similar or younger bcuz of my Grumpy Old Man bias.

i’m still workin out my ideas for her but based on how the movie ends i like to think she helps kong with relocating the apes to a better home, and they mostly live in HE. her n kong venture up for surface dates bcuz she gets what she fucking deserves 💙

goji nearly has an aneurysm the first time they come up, since mosu literally takes them for a lil tour of monster island. bro standing there clenching his fist like the arthur meme, he begrudgingly knows she’s right and eventually he gets used to it

i got more ideas cookin for her but this post is already too damn long cuz of my ranting time to stfu

SHIMO BEST GIRL 10/10

[lovesculprit]

Eris, you absolute sweetheart! It's my turn to ask for some lore between you and your faves.

What is it that your faves do that never fails to remind you how loved you are by them? And vice versa?

CY I'M SORRY I RAMBLED I COULDN'T HELP IT 😭 i will be back to your inbox soon (˘◡˘) this question really made me think and ily

veritas -

for me: it’s that he’s always paying attention, whether we’re alone or with a big group, he’s always watching to pick up on any cues on how i’m feeling and the moment i open my mouth to speak, i know he's looking at me and listening - if there was a time when i was talking and someone else louder spoke over me, he’d just squeeze my hand and give me a look that says 'go on, i’m listening' - (i also think he takes a mental note of everyone that does it to me so he can do the same to them at a later date and after he does, he gives me this smug look ヾ(＾-＾)ノ) he could be reading, in the bath, anything, if i have something to say, he’s looking at me, putting his book down or whatever, it could be the most stupid random trivial thing ever and he focuses so intently and i think whenever i see his eyes on mine in those moments it definitely makes me feel loved <3

for him: it’s how effortlessly i take care of him, it’s like second nature, if he’s not feeling well, i’m offering to make him food, make sure he’s rested, that he has everything. if he’s having a bad day and is tired or stressed, i'll offer to run him a nice relaxing bath or give him a massage. bringing him lunch if he's too busy to remember - he’s used to being independent and i think whenever i look after him, it’s always something he’s not used to but is grateful for, especially because he knows how easily it comes to me with me - so just anything i do that has obvious love behind it really i know there’s no birthdays in hsr (sob) but i have this image of making him a homemade birthday cake and him feeling so loved because of it :')

arthur morgan -

for me: he’s super protective 24/7 and i tell him to ease up but it’s so hard for him and if he can’t give me a full rundown before i head out, he’ll always make sure i take his horse. he knows i’m familiar with her and he’s comfortable knowing that at least i'll have her with me. so anytime i go somewhere, he calls his horse over, makes sure everything is all ready to go, that i’m on properly, have everything etc. he won’t give me the usual speech but as he carefully ensures everything's ready, he looks at me and i know silently he’s making sure i remember all of his prior precautionary lectures and i just nod to ease his mind ∩(︶▽︶)∩

for him: seeing me eager to help him with anything around camp or just seeing me around camp in general, laughing with the gang, and seeing me happy doing it, knowing the life i came from and what i gave up to be with him - i think just something like seeing me happily asleep in a tent with him when he knows i grew up with the comfiest beds ever but realising i chose less comfortable living all for him and that i don't regret it <3

itto -

for me: i think itto’s open just genuine love in general, you cannot doubt a golden retriever that is completely in love with you…but more specifically i think it’s his smile and happiness seeing me, he could have the best day ever doing whatever it is he’s doing but when he sees me afterwards, the joy isn’t even comparable and he’ll just smile so big and rush over to me to pick me up (so just itto’s obvious unafraid love)

for him: i think it’s how quick i am to defend him, anytime i suspect someone being off and judging him for being an oni before they get to know him it's like second nature for me to defend him and his character and i think he loves how naturally that comes to me and it makes him feel loved <3

alhaitham -

for me: it’s him knowing when i’m anxious and instantly knowing how to help, he can tell when i’m overwhelmed or specifically if we’re having dinner with family or friends, he’ll make my plate up for me, rather than others because he knows what i like and don’t like and would rather give me not enough so i can go back for more than have too much on my plate and feel anxious (similarly growing up together, we’ve had a lot of family dinners and he could always tell i got anxious at dinner time even as kids and he’d take stuff off my plate to eat so i didn’t feel overwhelmed)

for him: i like to go into the akademiya later so i can sleep more but he likes his early mornings & i end up with this habit of waking up early with him and being there to talk about whatever as he's getting ready, making sure he's had breakfast and isn't forgetting anything before going back to sleep after he’s left and he knows how much i love to sleep in so i think seeing me miss out on some just so he’s not alone in the morning makes him happier than he realises and he appreciates it - similarly if he has to stay later at the akademiya on some days, i'll also stay so i can spend more time with him and make it more enjoyable <3

[sarnai4]

The Underworld

I cannot even express how excited I was to listen to the Underworld Saga. It did not disappoint at all (of course, I wanted more songs, but the trio was amazing). Spoilers ahead for Epic the Musical.

"The Underworld" was an amazing setup for what we had coming. There are just so many tiny details! There are callbacks with "Full speed ahead," "Open Arms," and of course, we also have the "Ruthlessness" callbacks with the army. That would be so horrifying. He's surrounded by the 500+ soldiers who relied on him and trusted him to bring them back home. He even stated back in the Ocean saga how he didn't lose a single soul in the war. It's when they leave that everyone starts dying. Then, we have the heart-breaking Polites cameo, reminding Odysseus of how he cost his best friend his life. Now, the part that got me a little choked up was when his mom showed up. I have read even the story, so I know that she's gone, but it hurt so much to hear him realize he'd been at war so long that he never got to see her alive again. Him saying "Bye, Mom," just tears my heart strings right out. I love the contrast too of the quiet sadness in his voice with this line, then immediately yelling "All I hear are screams!" There's so much rage and pain as he's forced to confront everything that's kept him away from his family--including those he'll never be reunited with in life.

Then, we have "No Longer You." When I say the snippet did not do this song justice...(sighs dreamily). I still enjoyed the snippet, but this is probably my favorite of the bunch to listen to. The melody, the vocals, it's all just so beautiful. The tune just seems to float like you could do a ballroom dance with someone. That's not to say that the lines aren't great too. I love how this one plays on Odysseus's fears and how his increased time away from home has jaded him. The prophet basically says, "I see you with your wife, but you're messed up from your time away" and our Ithaca king is just pissed that he saw someone with his wife. Uh, buddy...well, I guess you'll find out soon enough. It's also so fun to know the story and get reminded of what Odysseus will be doing when he returns to Ithaca, fighting subjects who just assumed he had died and don't have respect for anyone in his family now. Even this entire concept to me in fascinating since it considers an underlying theme of the play: how people change due to their experiences. Odysseus will return, but it'll never be the same Odysseus who left in the first place.

And we end with "Monster" which is such an awesome ending to a first act. I wish this was live, so the audience could erupt in applause. (Small detail, but I love the music at the beginning. It's so unique when compared to the other songs and is pretty cool, gradually growing when more instruments are added). A bigger detail is that you have the instrumental intro matching the intro for "The Horse and the Infant." It just shows how far they've come and calls back to the very first time Odysseus was responsible for a lost life in the musical. My favorite line in this song is "I'm the only one whose line I haven't crossed." That's saying something too because this song is full of amazing lines. I just love the implication since we know Odysseus has often had lines he thought were too far. He didn't want to kill the baby, chose to spare Polyphemus, didn't kill Circe when he won in the fight, etc. Still, as he finally admits in this song, he did kill the baby. Despite that, he hasn't crossed his line. Why? I think it's because he keeps pushing it back each time he's confronted with something he doesn't want to do but feels he has to. It ties into the end of this song where he considers everyone he's lost, fully understanding the scope of it now that he's seen the spirits of his loved ones. Turning into someone he never wanted to be doesn't matter anymore. If he's a monster who still has a living family and hasn't proven the faith people had in him was foolish, then it's fine. He might have even been a monster before by not going against their enemies with everything he had. It's all a matter of perspective. Was he a monster for killing the baby, one for causing so many in his fleet to never return to their families, or one for both of those choices? The ending going back to "The Horse and the Infant" with him calling out for Penelope and Telemachus AND pairing that with the repeat of "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" is marvelous. It's almost like it's in the same sentence where he's explaining his actions to them, telling them that he has to become a monster because it'll make things alright for everyone they hold dear.

The only thing that made me mad about this is that I have no clue when the next saga is coming out or what it's even called. So, I'll just be playing the songs on repeat until I can add however many more to the playlist.

[teardrop-scales]

Matchup for @babulejka

I match you with...

Macaque!

I think you two would be a genuinely healthy and good couple.

Macaque could definitely use someone like you. Your kindness, cheerfulness and politeness as well your energy and optimistic outlook would contrast well with his more quiet, snarky, sassy and brooding nature. You two give me a "miss sunshine and mr grumpypants" kinda vibe, and that's good honestly! It's one of my favorite ship dynamics XD

You said you have an elegant and lady-like kinda vibe as well, and these vibes also seem like something Macaque would be into for some reason.

Considering both your styles and your looks compared with Macaque's style, I think you two would be an aesthetically pleasing to look at couple. I can't really put into words why, but I think your clothing styles would fit Macaque's general vibe.

Macaque is very attentive and observant, so he'd give you some rings, earrings or brooches that he thinks you would like, or just ones that reminded him of you. You wouldn't even have to say at any point to him that you like that kind of stuff, he would notice on his own because he actually pays a lot of attention to you.

Generally I feel like Macaque is the type of person who quietly notices and notes down in his mind what kind of things you like, so he knows what kind of gifts would make you the happiest.

Macaque admires you for having so many interesting hobbies and passions.

He is a theater kid for sure, with his love for dramaticness and shadow plays, and you have a few hobbies that kinda match that.

He is amazed when he learns that you do ballet. You better believe that he will be at your every show if you participate in that sort of thing, in exchange that you come to his shadow plays as well, of course.

I mean, you literally said you organize puppet theaters! And Macaque is into shadow plays, which is also a form of theatre! I'm sure that's only one of the many topics you could talk to each other and bond about. If that doesn't prove that you two would be perfect for each other, I don't know what will lol.

He'll try to get into some of your hobbies. They are so creative and interesting, like I said, Macaque admires that very much as a theatre kid himself.

I headcannon that Macaque, like you, can also play a few instruments and sing quite well. And considering his storytelling during that one shadow play episode, maybe he would be good at composing songs too and writing poems. So I can see the two of you having music sessions, just playing your instruments and singing together. Macaque would also definitely offer to help you in writing songs and such.

Macaque is a demon and a celestial monkey; he's pretty strong and has a good stamina, so he'd gladly try to get into your hobbies such as fencing or archery and practice with you.

But he wouldn't try horse riding. Just... No.

Like you, Macaque also wouldn't probably limit to just one or two love languages and instead would try to show his love in different ways. Although he may be a little shy and distrustful of physical contact especially when you're the one initiating it, since how much trauma this guy has and what he's been through... So you'd have to be a little gentle and patient with that, but he'll come around and understand that you won't hurt him after some time.

Your love for nature and fascination with the world around you was probably one of the many things that made Macaque fall in love with you. He would gladly take you for walks around Flower Fruit Mountain and introduce you to the little monkeys.

And he has his shadow portals! Which means, he can take you all around the world basically. Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to see or experience, just say the word. Your wish is his command.

If you start talking to him about space or oceans or just any topic that you're interested in, he'll listen to you while staring at you with a soft smile.

Surprisingly or not, I think he would like your darker sense of humour. I feel like it could match his snarkiness and his brooding nature.

He knows you're stubborn, but he wouldn't let you overwork yourself. He has a silver tongue when he wants to, so he definitely would try to coax you into taking a break, and preferably spending some free time with him. If that doesn't work, well... He's much stronger than you, so he'd probably just take you into his arms forcefully and drag you away from your work lmao.

Oh, and he'd definitely eat anything you bake or cook. If you bake cookies or something similar he'd probably try to steal some before they're even ready, just to mess with you. He'd use his shadow portals and do it when you're not looking. We all know he's pretty sneaky.

A.N: I know I haven't mentioned all your info and your hobbies, sorry for that, but girl, you have SO MANY of those, if I mentioned every thing this would be too long I think XD. Hope you're satisfied.

[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 8 - A nightingale sang

Pinterest Board | Series Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

eigth chapter synopsis: A surprising invitation made you discover a different, incredible place hidden in Greenwood. You were glad that Thranduil showed you such a special place. But probably you were even more glad that he was there with you. [3K]

warnings: female!reader. pre-Smaug. cried writing this but this is apparently something that will happens with every chapter so... go hear a nightingale sang in berkeley square. look i am just a sensitive girl in a difficult world, this is straight up murdering you with love.

glossary: Idril: Treasure, sweetheart┆Ellon: Male elf┆

Forests are secrets in themselves. They hide things. That is what they do, their primordial essense. A forest without a secret is a human without a soul, a planet without a star. That is the real language of the woods.

You knew all the meadow’s secrets in Rivendell. You knew where the sprouts flourished, where the clearing started, where the trees fall after storms. You knew all its secrets, until you did not.

Because in kind places a forest hides wisteria and sage sprouts. In cruel ones it hides wargs and warm blood. And for those who are lucky enough it hides suspended gardens.

Stone pillars, embedded on gold, supported all seven floors. It would already be a beautiful sight, light reflecting in waves of warmth through Greenwood, but the ascending series of tiered gardens above each floor turned it into a paradise. Each specimen from the wide variet of trees, flowers and vines were part of this mountain constructed of golden bricks.

“I got goosebumps”, you whispered. It smelled like honey there. “Why did you hide this place from me!?”

Strangers had been born and buried and their lifetime would be nothing compared to all the time the Elvenking spend on the suspended gardens. And still, looking into your moist eyes, Thranduil discovered a new sort of beauty in this place.

The green of the vines, more verdant. The gold of the pillars, more golden. The pink of the flowers, more rosy. The whole world was brighter. Wind whispering against the autumn leaves, birds flocking, river crashing against stones: the world became a song. Such a beautiful, intricate symphony. One that he never noticed before.

It must be fate. That was meant to be. Since the world was first created and the stars were put into place. For what other reason did he survived this far, if not to admire you admiring the world his ancestors build? For what reason did Thranduil endured this far, if not to be alone in this world with you?

The Elvenking gestured towards the gardens. “Shall we, idril?”

Thranduil watched as you prepared a raspberry pie in silence, which was better than when he tried to make you let someone else finish it. As if it was offensive for you to get your hands dirty. Your last job was to take care of horses. What is a pie compared to that?

Cleaning your hands, you almost could not believe your ears when the invitation came. It was strange of him to have free time during the day. He never had before, not once since you first got in his realm. But you were not the one to remind a king of his duties.

Not when that can take him away from you.

“You really should stop doing that”, you continued along the paved way, and Thranduil followed your eager steps. Turning to look at him instead of facing the path, a delicate smile showed you did not meant what you were saying. “Calling me words I do not know.”

“Yet”, Thranduil completed. “Do not know yet.”

On the first floor, you understood that the construction did not matter. Its halls were simple, with long open arches and practically empty except for the occasional sculptures. Anyone there would only have eyes for the gardens, and whoever built it knew that no amount of gold or jewels would ever compete with nature.

Quince flowers draped over the walls, pears were almost to the point of crop. Thranduil showed you almond flowers, his long fingers brushing against the tiny buds. You did not even knew almonds came from flowers.

Climbing the stairs to the second floor, you brushed your hands against the rough trunk of a pistachio tree.

Following throught the halls, you could see the garden suspended over the first floor. Butterflies and bees flew around the almond flowers, which made you speed up the pace. You heard Thranduil laughing, but you were too scared to open your mouth to complain only to ended up eating a bee.

A swallow landed on your hair, and you tried your best to not move so Thranduil would see it too. When he stopped in front of you, Thranduil’s eyes seemed so… calm.

You knew he was tired and worried. That he had much to do, to understand, to protect. In Rivendell people believe that Sauron is gone, but here they have more than faith to prove the contrary. But now Thranduil looks so peaceful.

“A little one mistook you by a tree”, Thranduil stretched a finger towards your hair. You felt the swallow moving, pulling your hair along, and saw it on his ring finger. Such a small thing, with greenish down.

Your smile went wider when you looked into his face.

“And you by a flower.” In his wood crown, butterflies found a new home. A smirk spread across your face. “If you pay attention, you really look like a sunflower. Always smiling, never yelling at anyone.”

Thranduil’s response was to roll his eyes.

On the third floor, you passed through ebony, cedar and rosewood. You told Thranduil how most of the trees surrounding Aerin’s inn are ash trees, and how sad it is that most of the stories you read use them as metaphor for dead things. Thranduil shared a poem about a willow tree.

It surprised you how he recited it from memory.

Junipers were new for you. Never before you heard about them. But myrrh was not. You told Thranduil that Luthien gave you a bottle of its oil and practically ordered you to use it on your shoulder. His peacefulness oscilated for a second, but it appeared again.

The floor with fruits were your favorite one. Thranduil split open a pomegranate, revealing clusters of seeds inside it. You both shared it, eating slowly while watching the sun reflecting upon Greenwood. You took a tangerine from its branch, and gave him half of it. With half of a fresh fig on your hands, you were more interest on plum flowers than on its fruit.

There is something about sharing a fruit with someone that just makes it feel holy. The way Thranduil cut the fig in half. How you cleaned the tangerine. Your fingers brushing against one another to take another seed. It just felt better than eating one alone.

You brushed your fingers against ferns and orchids. Cherry blossoms floated, washing you both upon pink petals. A few got stucked on your hair. A few that Thranduil did not warned you about.

On the last floor, there were tables and chairs made of wood, but what really mattered to you was the view. From up there, you could see everything. Greenwood, every floor and its suspended garden, a flowing river on distance.

“A step back,” said Thranduil. He sat down, observing carefully. “Your fall is not worth the landscape.”

“Do not be affraid. That will not happen”, your eyes locked on a bird flying away. You think it was a nightingale. He was so small, and yet he knew a type of freedom you would never. How must it be to fly? It happened for you to fall from places that made you feel like you were flying, until you met the ground. Does it works the other way around? You imagine so. “You do not need to worry about me.”

“How could I not?” replied Thranduil. “You reign in my mind. It is my duty to worry about your safety and happiness.”

Your mouth went dry. “It was never my intention to make you worry about me”, you whispered.

Words, when commonly used, tend to lose their initial meaning. It dissolves, disappears with each repetition, until the word is just a ghost of what it once was. Of what their meaning once was. So many man use love almost as a greeting, but not a ellon. Never a ellon.

“I never said it was.”

The silence pierced your mind. His words… Why Thranduil keep on doing this? Why he keep on saying those sweet, toothaching sweet things? Thranduil is so beautiful, and everytime he opens his mouth you get more sure that his heart is just as pretty. If you could open his skull and study his brain, you would.

“Still”, you licked your lips. “I am not falling.”

Thranduil nodded. You came back to watch the sky, mostly because you did not knew what else to do. It was rosy. A breeze made chills go down your spine, and a petal fell from your hair right into your hands. Your caressed it, and moved it closer to your nose.

“Who created this place?” You sniffed it. “They must be so proud.”

“It was my father.”

That warm feeling spreading into you faded away. He never talked to you about his father before, but you knew that there was only one way for a prince to become a king. What you do not know is how much does it hurt. It must be a lot. Usually things that we love hurt way too much.

You walked towards Thranduil. The way he made your thoughts hazy did not matter anymore. You pulled yourself a chair, and dragged it until it was right beside him. Thranduil chuckled at the act.

“He must have been really creative”, you told him. “How was he?”

That surprised Thranduil. People never ask things about his father. They only say that they are sorry, that they feel so much, that it must be so difficult. They never talk about Oropher. They always remind Thranduil that he is dead, but they never talk about him.

“Wise”, said Thranduil. With just one word, he already felt that it was so easier to breath. Sometimes it feels like Oropher only lives on his memory. Like there is this unsurmountable weight on his shoulders, one that none can see or help to carry. It felt nice to share. “And ruthless. He was the strongest until the very end.”

You tried to picture Oropher. The king who died too soon. The warrior that led his people against Sauron, and saw his knights falling down. You picture someone that knew the weight of a sword dipped in blood, the sound of a last breath, the rotteness of a dying land. You pictured this person, and then imagined him daydreaming about suspended gardens. Architecting a palace, designing irrigation, choosing seeds.

Oropher sounds like someone worth knowing.

Your fingers dipped into your watery dress, and you bit back a smile. You imagine that Thranduil have the same effect on people. That they will heard how he protect his land and his people, and then get amazed about how he can recite poems about a willow tree.

“And how was him to you? Was he good?”

“Not ruthless”, Thranduil smiled at the memories in hindsight. “He was gentle and… When I was just a little ellon, I used to not understand when it was time to shut up. Now I see how awful I was, but he always listened to me. He never made me feel like I should remain silent.”

You held his hand, it was so cold. Stroking his delicate skin, you felt a warmth inside you. Something different from anything you ever felt. You felt… not alone.

“I bet Oropher would be proud of you”, the words escaped your mouth. “You are good. You are also great, but you are good. Gentle.”

Somehow, Thranduil understood exactly what you meant. There are so many great people in this world. So many great poets, great warriors, great rulers. But good… Oh, it appears that the world is always lacking people that are good.

People who will discuss with dragons because their friends deserve their home back. People that will cross a continent to destroy a ring simply because someone needs to. People that will lit beacons without permission, that will use helmets to hide the fact that they are a woman, that will fight even as arrows pierce their chest.

“You think I am good?” Thranduil felt his eyes burning. “You really do?”

“Of course, my king.” You intertwined his fingers with yours. It felt right. Like they were made to complement eachother. A sly smirk replaced your genuine smile. “You think I would put up with you if I did not?

Thranduil looked at the horizon, hoping you would not notice the redness of his eyes. He reciprocated your touch, squeezing your hand lightly. Maybe it was the sunset, maybe it was the autumn leaves, but everything felt golden.

Everything felt just fine.

“You are good”, murmured Thranduil. “Is it because of your parents?”

You let go of his hand, and Thranduil felt the sky getting darker. Your colors also faded, as if it was robbed from your skin. “It is getting late”, you told him. You were quick to get up. Quick to lie. Badly. “I should come back.”

“I am sorry. I really am”, Thranduil ignored everything you said. There was no need for him to pretend to fall for your bad lies. He stand, just as fast as you. “But you are not a good liar, idril. I will not force you to say the truth, nor do I wish for you to speak when you do not want to, but you do not need to lie. Not to me. We are friends.”

You threw yourself onto the chair, without any energy to argue. You watched the horizon, the changing colors of the sky, and tried to ignore the pressure on your chest. “I am sorry.”

“No need to”, Thranduil sat too. He tried to be silent, but something told him that maybe you also had a unsurmountable weight on your shoulders. That maybe you also needed to share it. “Were they not good?”

“Maybe yes, maybe not”, you huffled. You responded right away, so Thranduil assumd he made the right decision. “That is the problem.”

With your eyelids closed, you turned your head to Thranduil. When courage made its way into your chest, you looked at him. Was he going to judge you? To see you as too much of a problem? A part of you feared that he would. The other half thought it was mean to think of him that way.

“I have no memories of them.”

He let you talk. About how you have no memories of parents, of any family, of growing or sharing meals or going to school or learning to read. About how for you it is like you were born during a thunderstorm, then wandered until you found Aerin. You told him everything.

After you rant, his silence came. He breathe in, and you could feel his body getting tense. “No one ever looked for you?” Thranduil finally said something.

You nodded.

For Thranduil, now everything makes sense. The way you tend to pretend not to see when Aerin treated you badly. Or how people insisted on not calling you by your name. Why you would have felt bad if you did nothing. The gentleness of your heart. How your intelligence have a touch of naivety.

But it also made him even more intrigued about why you and Gandalf are friends. Does he have any interest on your memories coming back? Is he the reason why they faded? Can you really see him as a friend?

Thranduil never liked those pilgrim wizards, and Gandalf tend to be the one creating more problems for him. If he is right about who betrayed the free people, then maybe you have something to do with it.

Thranduil licked his lips. “I think you are so unlucky.”

That made you burst into laugh. It was loud and ugly and genuine. “I… I agree.”

When silence came, it was natural. It was welcomed. You stared into his watery eyes, and decided that you would never try to hide things from Thranduil. It is just not worth the effort, now when he reacts this way. A gentle king.

“You still want to go back home?” Thranduil whispered. There was simply no need to, but he wanted to. It felt right to.

You turned your gaze to the sky, and it was on that marvelous moment when it is not day and it is not night. Thranduil did the same as you. “This place feels like a summer dream.”

A nightingale sang that night. Not that you both heard it, since your voices were louder. But it sang, and it still mattered.

AUTUMN THUNDERSTORM: @ferns-fics @notanalienindisguiseblink @rayrlupin @elvyshiarieko @graniairish @whore-of-many-hot-men @h0ly-fire

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[comfortless]

SYL remember the Ren fair blippet you posted of Konig and his dear??

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRTyaTXk/

This totally gave me flashbacks to it!! he probably completely forgets he's a human from the modern world when he puts his costume on and drags his partner into the festival, he just wants to be a knight in ye olden days with his love

oh my god Jane that is so cute ;;!!! heart is melting… we all deserve a dance with renfaire König…

The difference between König in and out of uniform is barely there, he’s still the same, albeit a bit more focused on the field; the difference between König in and out of costume though…?

It’s as if the single sip of ale he had at the beginning of the faire already had him drunk.

You had meticulously tightened each strap of his armor, cloaked him in the chainmail veil he wore just so, and spent more time than you would have liked preparing him rather than yourself.

He wanted to seat you in his lap whilst he polished the blunt sword, running his gloved fingers over the tip and making a quip about how he should sharpen it whilst your laces remained untied and your makeup was barely in place.

All of that preparation seemed for naught because König becomes someone else the moment you arrive.

He’s obnoxiously cocksure and giddy.

It’s as if some long forgotten knight has him possessed with the way he taunts the smaller men practicing the blade or throwing axes at shoddily painted targets. He has to beat them at every turn, making an entire spectacle of himself with a wild grin affixed upon his face.

There are rules to this: you try to remind him to be gentle, he doesn’t actually have to kill anyone here. Your warnings are met with feverish kisses and too handsy touches along your waist, up further until you detach from him with a laugh. Really, your soldier has become little more than an excitable hound.

You watch from the wooden fence as he readies for a joust. How they managed to find a horse that could seat him properly is beyond you, and from the looks upon their faces the men tending the stables are just as surprised.

The lance König wields looks almost puny in his large hand, and his opponent is more than a little shaken once presented with this giant on horseback. The other man ushers his horse to veer to the right once the joust begins, bypassing König entirely all to dramatically forfeit.

The men locked in duels are no better; no one wants this titan tackling them into the dust with a blade in hand. Everyone had already seen how König managed to bring a man to tears. It’s not much of a surprise that he’s proud of that. Look at how strong he is, princess! Aren’t you honored to have a man like that at your side?

Half of the budget he’s set for the faire is spent on food and ale. He wants you to try everything, hand feed him with a cute pout and that same annoyed yet adoring glare you’ve been shooting him all day. König had no qualms keeping you in his lap during the lavish feast, either. He strokes at your waist where the corset he helped you to fasten has been giving your side some grief after all this walking, plays with your hair until he reaches the nape of your neck and pulls you in to taste sugar on your tongue.

Maybe it’s a bit humiliating to play the role of this rowdy king’s beloved concubine, but it’s difficult not to feel contented when he’s so happy and free.

Not once does work come up.

The only weapons he toys with here are all for pretend. You know him well enough to detect when his team or a particularly gory mission are in mind, and with that rabid grin ever-present on his face it’s difficult to tell the difference, but… his eyes are more vibrant here. There is no tension in his shoulders when you pet him for missing a target with an arrow. The man who hates crowds seems to have been tucked away entirely, replaced by this König that eagerly initiates a duel and debates the time period certain weaponry was in use with a merchant.

He compares you to a fairy or a nymph when you lead him into the open field to dance, blades of grass so high you feel them tickle beneath your gown. His movement isn’t clumsy, though it’s near feverish as he tugs you close to sway, releases you to circle you like a starved wolf just to grasp at any part of your being within reach again.

He hasn’t a clue how to dance, but your hand remains joined with his the entire time, giving him just as much praise as he gives to you. Handsome when he mutters onward about your beauty, strong when he compares you to nimble forest creatures, lovely when he grasps at your hip to loom over you and press lengthy kisses against your exposed shoulder.

The dancing doesn’t end when others disperse either, when night takes the sky, when owls call, and the strumming of a lute plays on in the distance accompanied by shouts and laughter. There are still other events, someplace across the field… just ones the pair of you would not be in attendance for.

Away from envious eyes or drunken bards, König pulls you down to the grass to crowd over you, leaving a series of kisses from face to cleavage. He laughs against your breasts when you comment on how much fun he’s having. Your gown is lifted to fold carelessly above your hips; he mutters into your ear about showing you just how much before his face is pushed between your thighs.

He apologizes against your sex for dragging you out here, for embarrassing you by making that little knight cry, for being so uninhibited and himself that you force yourself to pull away from the sloppy licks altogether.

Your hands find his jaw and you cup his face as you tell him with sheer delight painted within your expression just how much you love seeing him like this. The little knight and all of the other people here are long forgotten in your mind at least, because all that matters is that crooked grin he flashes before helping himself to the millionth pleasure he’s had that day.

[p-artsypants]

The Pale Rider (6) When Jealousy Becomes Too Much

The Isle of Berk is cursed. Like, extremely cursed. It has been for generations. The extent of the curse has been forgotten over time, but no descendants of the original village are able to leave the island, lest they suffer a gruesome fate. Three years ago, the Blacksmith invited the Pale Rider to town. He’s a creature that’s haunted the forest and childhood campfire stories for centuries. Now, he arrives every day at noon. One day, Astrid Hofferson decides to be brave and talk to him. He’s actually really nice…for an eldritch abomination. A Beauty and the Beast AU.

Ao3

Not everyone in town liked the Pale Rider. In fact, most of the town didn’t care for his daily presence. 

But they were growing used to it. 

He had a routine now. He had several stops he made, like clockwork. He didn’t stay too long at each one.

Except for the Hofferson residence. 

It had angered a lot of folks, how Astrid could allow this monster around her poor sick mother. 

But then Astrid would give them a glare and retort, “you could always go sit up with her, you know. Then the Pale Rider wouldn’t feel compelled to keep her company.”

That always shut them up. 

It had been about a month since that brave day when Astrid had decided to speak with him in the forge. She only felt more and more certain of his trustworthiness in that time. She had grown rather fond of him as well. 

After their days were done, she’d compare notes with the others, hoping to learn anything she could about his curse. 

On occasion, he’d slip something. It was difficult to tell if he was guarded on purpose, or if he just didn’t want to talk about his tragic circumstances. Most of the information he leaked was about previous generations in the village. An encounter with someone in the woods, a few brave occasions he had wandered through town at night. It was interesting to see where certain rumors seemed to originate from. 

It was a gloomy day. One marked by gray skies, and the faintest drizzle of rain. Astrid’s stall had a little awning to keep her mostly dry, but sales were miserable, and she was excited to call it a day. 

But not until the Rider was gone. 

He came up the road, Toothless trotting with thinly veiled enthusiasm. From here, she could see the Rider’s shiny new leg. A wooden piece with a metal base in a ‘S’ shape. Gobber said it was ideal for riding horses. 

“Afternoon!” He greeted, gleefully. 

“My, you’re in a good mood, aren’t you?” 

“How can I not be? I’m on my way to see my best friend, and all my other friends.” 

Astrid beamed at him, elated at his declaration. 

“I almost left early, I was so excited.” He dismounted in front of her. Toothless immediately got to work on the bucket of poisonous plants she kept just for him. ‘The Toothless Special’ she called it. 

“You could have. It’s been a slow morning.” 

“Everyone expects me at noon. It’s my common courtesy.” 

One thing Astrid noticed taking place was his improved speech pattern. The more time he spent in the village and talking to people, the more normal he spoke. His voice wasn’t even as deep and gravelly anymore. Still deeper than most people, but not bone chilling. He also became more animated, using his hands to gesture. That was a real blessing, as his expression was impossible to see under his mask, so she had to rely on his hand gestures and tone of his voice to figure out what he was thinking. 

He still had his moments, however. A hairpin trigger that would render him silent, stilted, and tense. He’d revert to short answers, or none at all. Snotlout was usually the responsible party, as he had a tendency to point out something ‘weird’ about the Rider that would remind everyone that he wasn’t normal. 

Like anyone could forget. 

After a few words of assurance and a punch to Snotlout, the Rider would eventually come around. 

Overall, she was pleased with the progress he had made in such a short amount of time. 

“Ready for your transformation?” She wiggled her fingers. 

“As ever,” he conceded, bowing his head. 

This was a new tactic they were taking. In an effort to make him less threatening, Astrid had taken to adorning his horns with wildflowers. It hadn’t made anyone else in the town approach him, but she had seen some amusement on people’s faces as he passed by. 

“There!” She declared proudly, gesturing to his head of coneflowers, blanket flowers, and oxeye daisies. “Aww, you look precious!” 

“I feel like a bee buffet.” He reached up and played with the petals. “A small price to pay, I suppose.” 

“You look lovely. Now, everyone’s meeting at Heather’s for afternoon tea. Even Gobber! Ready to go?” 

He nodded and grabbed the bucket Toothless was still mowing through. 

At Heather’s, almost everyone else was already waiting, sipping on tea and relaxing. As they entered, the group cheered, “Astrid! Rider!” 

“Nice pansies,” said Snotlout. 

“You’re just jealous because I can pull it off and you can’t.” 

“Yeah, I’m really jealous of the guy who’s so hideous he has to wear a mask,” Snotlout scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

Astrid feared that would shut him down, but the Rider persevered and stated, “Actually, I���m so handsome under this mask that my face would bring you all to tears.” 

“Really?” said Ruffnut. 

“No, though…I would probably still bring you to tears…” he trailed off. 

“Alright ladies, you’re both very pretty,” interrupted Tuffnut. “But Deer Boy, you gotta settle a debate for us.” 

“D-Deer Boy?”

“Duh. The deer skull? Antlers? Come on!” Tuff flourished his hand. “Okay, so the question is: what was Toothless before he became a horror horse?” 

Astrid scoffed. “What kind of question is that? A regular horse, obviously.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Said Ruff. 

To the bewilderment of everyone, the Rider shook his head. “No, he’s not a horse.” 

“What?!” Shouted Fishlegs, Snotlout, Astrid, and Ruffnut. 

“Yeah!” Said Tuff. “He’s clearly a donkey! I knew it!” 

“No,” the Rider said again. “He’s a dragon.” 

The group went quiet as they digested this information. 

“But…dragons don’t live down this far,” said Fishlegs. “They’re all up in the far northern archipelago. How do you have one down here?” 

“That, I don’t have an answer for,” the Rider sipped his tea. “I’m sorry.” 

“So, a dragon with retractable teeth,” Astrid clarified. “That makes more sense…but why does he look like a horse?” 

The Rider shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“Well then, what do you know!?” Snotlout damn near shouted. “How are we supposed to help you break this stupid curse if you don’t remember anything about it?!”

Apparently, that was the hair trigger, although Astrid was the only one to notice at first. The Rider bowed his head and slowly pulled his hands away from his cup and into his lap. “You all are…trying to break my curse?” 

“Duh!” Said Snotlout, again. “You’re not the only one affected by it!” 

There was a short stutter of breath from behind his mask. Then he answered, “of course. You all want to leave the island…I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.” 

Astrid punched Snotlout in the gut, making him keel over. “Rider,” she began, sternly. “Yes, we’ve all wanted to break this curse for generations, but know that seeing you motivates us to do so. It’s not a bad thing. You’ve given us hope of change. Let’s work together, okay?” 

He was silent for a long time, twisting his hands nervously in his lap. 

Astrid frowned. “You will work with us, right? You’d tell us if you knew anything that could help, right?” 

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly through his unnaturally long neck. “Yes, but I don’t know anything. I’m sorry.” 

Astrid was overcome by the fact she’d never seen the Rider lie before. But at that moment, it was obvious that he had. 

Either no one else noticed, or they were too uncomfortable to call him out. 

“Who wants quiche?!” Gobber hollered, entering the cafe and startling the tense group. Gobber always had a talent for resolving tension, even if it was unorthodox. While everyone was distracted by quiche, the Rider was able to pivot attention away from him. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet today, Heather,” he noted. “Is everything alright?” 

“What?” She perked up. “Oh! Um, yes, mostly…just have a lot on my mind.” 

“Is it me?” Snotlout crooned, fluttering his eyelashes at her. 

Well that didn’t take long, thought Astrid. 

Heather laughed awkwardly. “Uh no…it’s…well, hopefully it’s not a big deal. You see, my father is sick.” 

Astrid gasped. 

Heather raised her hands in a calming way. “Nothing too serious! Just…Gothi said it’s something in his lungs. He’s very weak and has a fever, but he should recover in a month or so.” 

Astrid rested a hand on her chest. “That’s a relief.” 

“Yes, well…while I am worried about my father, there is something more pressing. As he started having his crisis of mortality, he decided to give my brother some more control over…assets.” 

“What kind of assets?” Astrid asked, dreading the answer. 

“Properties…the kind that other people live in and are paying off.” 

The collective group winced. 

“And that’s why he hasn’t been bugging me lately,” Astrid muttered. “Great.” 

“I’m really hoping it's no big deal, but…it’s Dagur.” 

“I’m afraid I’m lost,” said the Rider. “Dagur owns other people’s homes?” 

“That’s right,” Astrid explained, “Oswald the Agreeable is easily the richest man in town. If you want to buy a house, you borrow money from him, then you pay him back. It seems like he’s given the responsibility to Dagur to collect on those debts.” 

“I see,” the Rider mused. 

“Thanks to all your patronage these last few years, I fully own the forge and everything in it! I don’t owe a dime to those muttonheads!” Gobber cheered. 

“My uncle just paid off the store too,” said Fishlegs. 

“Our shop has been in the family for forever,” said Tuffnut. “Pretty sure our parents own our house too.”

The group then turned to look at Astrid. 

“Well, I was leasing my cart from Oswald…and we owed on our house, but he waved the debt after dad died. So I think I’m okay too.” 

Heather sighed a breath of relief. “Then we’ll worry about the rest of the town.” 

“I can help,” offered the Rider. “I can pay.” 

Astrid patted his shoulder, having long gotten used to the damp texture of his cloak. “Don’t worry about it. That’s not your responsibility.” 

“But–” 

“We vikings are very proud. They probably wouldn’t accept charity from even their best friend.” 

“The best thing you can do, lad, is keep on coming to town. We’ll take you to the fishery next! Or maybe the mill?”

“What about the Great Hall?” Asked Astrid. “After sunset tonight, come with us and have a drink!” 

The Rider twisted the hem of his cloak in his hands. “I don’t know…” 

“That’s not a bad idea, Astrid,” said Gobber. “About time people started seein’ him around in more places than just the streets.” 

“Can you?” Astrid urged him, “can you come out at night? The twins finished my dress, you know. This would be a special occasion I could wear it to.” 

After a tense moment, he sighed. “I cannot say no to you, Astrid. I will come.” 

“Yes!” Everyone cheered. 

—-

After spending the later part of Astrid’s shift with Mrs. Hofferson, the Rider departed from the village as usual, with a promise of returning after dark. 

Astrid found herself unbelievably excited. He was coming to the Great Hall! He was so brave! And Gobber would be there to make sure everything went smoothly. 

It would be great! 

She came home and checked on her mother, who had been doing better since the Rider came to sit with her. Positive company apparently did a lot of good. She dressed in her special dress, twirling as she spied herself in the mirror. 

It was a shame the Rider couldn’t feel love. It would be so fun to flirt with him in this. 

Then again, he was over 300 years old. Maybe he looked like an old man under that mask? 

She shuddered. She dare not think like that. 

Taking a coat, she kissed her mother goodbye and practically skipped down to the Hall. 

He wasn’t there, not yet. But the sun had only just set, and he had time. He was probably nervous anyways, and who could blame him? 

Her friends sat at their usual table, and all smiled and waved as she approached. 

“It fits perfectly!” Tuff cheered. 

“Did you think it wouldn’t?” 

“You know, I often have my doubts.” 

“I don’t,” said Ruffnut. “I knew my half of the dress was going to fit like a dream. You get what you pay for.” 

“And considering you charged the man a house, it better fit!” Snotlout snipped, still sore about it. 

“Alright everyone! The party has arrived!” Dagur’s far too enthusiastic voice called from the entrance.

Astrid’s mood faltered. She should have factored in Dagur’s appearance, but it had honestly slipped her mind. 

The Rider had allowed her to forget about him for a while. 

“Astrid…darling, that is a very fine dress. Where on earth did you get it?” He called, spotting her from across the room. 

She frowned, hard. “It was a gift, if you must know.” 

“From whom? Who in this village would dare give you such a gift? Who could afford such a thing?” 

She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. For the man in question stepped through the wide doors at that moment. He stood on the threshold, the breeze outside playing with the torn tendrils of his cloak. 

The room fell into a hush as everyone watched. 

“Rider!” Astrid called, delighted. She practically skipped to him and took his hands. “I’m so glad you could make it!” 

“I promised I would,” he said, keeping his gaze on her. 

“Hey buddy!” Snotlout called, “go home to change into your finest evening rags?” 

“Very funny,” the Rider replied, but not angrily. 

“So this is the Great Hall,” said Fishlegs, coming up to join them. “Many a battle was strategized here. Also many a feast! We’re under 18, so our drink selection is small, but you're welcome to order whatever you want at the bar.” 

The bartender waved pleasantly, already having been briefed that the Rider would come. 

“Don’t get the Bloody Mary!” Tuff shouted from the table. “Despite the name, it doesn’t actually have any blood in it! It’s tomato juice!” 

“Though, don’t the farmers use blood for fertilizer?” Asked Ruff. 

“Good point. How much blood goes back into the tomatoes?” Then he shouted back. “There might be a miniscule amount of blood in the bloody mary!”

The Rider laughed. Laughed! “Thanks for the advice!” 

The sound of his laughter seemed to put everyone at ease, even just a little bit. The Rider had a sense of humor. 

As he and Astrid started over to the bar, Dagur made his move. 

“Excuse me, Rider?” He said, politely, and almost meekly. 

The Rider stopped and looked at him, not speaking, but allowed him to go on. 

“I’m Dagur. We met a few weeks ago, though it was brief.” 

“I recall.” 

“And you see, we got off to such a rocky start. You’ve really ingratiated yourself with the young folks of this town. Such a steep hill to climb! Now, I’m sorry for the way I acted back then. But that can all be water under the bridge, right? What do you say? Wanna be my friend?” He held out his hand. 

Astrid held her breath. In her head, she screamed no no no. She didn’t want the Rider to have anything to do with Dagur, but she knew he was desperate for friends, and for acceptance. 

The Rider looked at his hand, but did not raise his own. Instead, he slowly raised his gaze to meet Dagur’s and said, “No. I don’t want to be your friend.” 

The fuzzy feelings that were developing in the room turned to ice. 

People turned their heads to avoid eye contact. Shoulders tensed and throats cleared. 

“Excuse me?” Dagur said, his meaty smile curling farther. “Did you just say…no?” 

“That’s correct.” 

“Why Rider…” he stepped closer. “What a completely ridiculous thing to say! You know, everyone in this town wants to be my friend!” He shouted out to the room at large. “Isn’t that right!?” 

There were some muffled agreements. 

“Barkeep! A round for everyone, on me! Everyone…except the Rider.” 

The room came much more alive then, the drunks cheering for more booze. 

“See? Everyone likes me. Everyone loves me! But you?” He poked the Rider in the chest. “They hate you. They’re afraid of you. And even these so-called friends of yours? They tolerate you. Too afraid of what will happen if they push you away.” 

“Shut up!” Yelled Astrid. 

But he didn’t. “They don’t even have a better name for you. Just ‘Rider’. Because that’s what you do. You ride in, and you ride on out.” He mockingly danced his fingers through the air like someone running away. “You don’t stay here. Because you aren’t one of us. You will never be one of us. Because you’re a monster, and a murderer.” 

“Stop it!” Astrid screamed. 

“You could have been one of us though,” Dagur shrugged. “If you had accepted my friendship. But the offer is rescinded.” 

The Rider said absolutely nothing. Just stood there, expression unreadable behind the skull. 

“Don’t listen to him, Rider! He’s just jealous!” 

“Quiet!” Dagur snarled, spittle flying from his mouth. It made her flinch. “So what are you going to do, Rider? Going to tell me I’m wrong? Because you and I both know I’m not.”

The Rider tilted his head slightly, and the green flames of his eyes dimmed. After a beat, he turned and walked to the bar. 

“Ignoring me!?” 

The Rider held his hand out over the wooden surface and a rain of gold and jewels fell upon it. Some fell to the floor. He looked up at the bartender and explained. “I’d like to pay for everyone's drinks for the rest of the night…except Dagur’s.” 

“Ha! Eat shit!” Snotlout shouted from the corner. 

Dagur whipped his head around to glare at him. “I’ll have your job, Snothat!” 

Snotlout ducked his head, sheepishly.

The Rider then went back to Astrid’s side. 

Astrid grasped his arms. “It’s not true! He’s just trying to get under your skin! I care about you, I truly do!” 

He gripped her arms back with his ice cold hands and dipped his head to speak to her. 

“I appreciate everything you’ve done, but they just aren’t ready.” 

“But–”

“I knew that dress would suit you. You look breathtaking.” She heard the sound of a kiss, him sending the sentiment into the air when he couldn’t quite reach her. “Goodnight Astrid.” 

Somehow she felt even colder when he pulled away. “Goodnight…” 

He went to the door. Rushing out with an inhuman speed. His cloak almost grew in the wind as he opened the door. Then he was gone in a blink, and only the echoing roar of Toothless signified that he was even near. 

—

Astrid didn’t stay long after. She simply couldn’t. She felt awful, and even though Dagur was the only one hostile, she still felt responsible. 

“You aren’t going to change everyone’s mind on him,” said Phlegma, after Astrid relayed all that had happened. 

“I know! But…I feel like if Dagur hadn’t been there, everyone else may have realized he’s not so scary. Maybe Rider can’t make friends with everyone in town. I know I can’t! But at least I wish people would stop looking at him like he’s some sort of…plague.” 

“Astrid darling, I think instead of getting the town to accept him how he is now, I think you’re better off breaking his curse first.” 

“So, you’re telling me it’s impossible?” 

Phlegma laughed. “No. I’m telling you, that curse is going to halt your progress either way. So…if you really want to help him, set him free.” 

Easier said than done, she supposed. The Rider was locked up tight on the subject. Why? Did he not want to be freed? That didn’t make much sense!

Or maybe…the key to breaking the curse was too steep of a price and he didn’t want anyone to pay it. 

—-

The next day, Astrid stood at her stall. She had been awake all night thinking about what her mother had said. First, she had to find a way to apologize to the Rider and make sure this wasn’t going to deter him from trying to be part of the village. Then, she had to convince him that letting her help was only a good thing. 

It was noon before she knew it. 

Something felt wrong today, as she heard doors and windows slamming shut. People hadn’t acted like that in a while. As she waited for him to round the corner, she heard shouting. 

Fearing the worst, she went to investigate. 

Dagur and several town guards had formed a line across the square, forbidding the Rider from continuing. 

The Rider stood on just the other side, pulling on Toothless’ reins, who whinnied in rage. 

“You are hereby banished from our village!” Dagur yelled, pointing a sword at him. “If you so much as step foot into this town again, you will be attacked on sight!” 

Astrid was enraged. How dare he! How dare he?! A scream of primal rage ripped from her throat and she ran right at Dagur, leaping onto his back and crushing the bone of her forearm against his throat. 

“You leave him alone, Dagur!” She snarled. “He’s never done a thing to you except bruise your ego!” 

Dagur finally got a hold of her and yanked her off, slamming her onto the ground. He delivered three swift punches to her face, and then pinned her to the ground with his boot. “I’ll deal with you in a minute, bitch!” 

Stunned and winded, Astrid let her head fall to the side, looking at the Rider. 

Ever unreadable, he just stood there. Toothless shook his head, agitated, and puffed huge plumes of smoke. 

“You see, Rider? I can hit you where it hurts!” 

Astrid tried to shove Dagur’s foot off of her, but he just ground harder into her stomach. 

“I see that hideous skull around here again, and every one of your little cult members will face my own kind of curse! You hear me?! I run this town, and you’re not welcome here!” 

Astrid pleaded with her eyes, begging him to do something. Anything. He needed to stand up for himself. He needed to put Dagur in his place.

He needed to protect her. 

But instead, he simply bowed his head, and turned. Toothless trotted away, back from where they came, with not a word of farewell. 

He didn’t even look at her. 

Once he was gone, Dagur removed his foot, and then gave her one hard kick in the ribs. “Leave her here. Let her wallow in her misery.” 

Instead, Snotlout appeared at her side. He had tears on his face as he lifted her up. “I gotcha. You’re okay.” 

“Did you not hear me, Snothat?!” Dagur hissed. 

Snotlout adjusted so that she was stable in his arms, then he turned to look at Dagur. “She was right, you know. He never did anything to you. But you? You beat up a woman. You should be disgusted.”

“I warned you before, Snot. I will have your job for talking to me like that.” 

“Fine with me,” he spat. 

Dagur gritted his teeth and raised his sword. 

Luckily, Heather stepped in, blocking his shot at Snotlout and Astrid. “Brother, stop this madness.” 

He scoffed. “Me? I’m the one that’s mad?!” 

Snotlout took the opportunity to back away and take Astrid home. But she could still hear the siblings arguing in the streets. 

“I’m trying to protect this town! How is that a bad thing!?” 

Gobber was already at her house when they arrived. He opened the door so Snotlout could bring her in. 

“Saw the whole thing, but I was too far to intervene,” said the Blacksmith. “That boy is utterly out of his mind!” 

Snotlout set Astrid down in a chair. “Water, she needs water.” 

“Who’s there?!” Mrs. Hofferson shouted from upstairs. 

“Snotlout and Gobber, ma’am! Astrid’s here too!” 

Astrid braced herself on the arms of the chair as her head swam. Her face throbbed, and it hurt to breathe. Dagur really didn’t pull any punches, and it had been a long time since she had been in a fight. 

Absently, she heard the door open and close and the voices of her other friends. It started to give her a headache. 

Finally, her mother was kneeling in front of her. “Astrid darling, are you okay?” 

“Mother, you shouldn’t be up…” she protested weakly. 

“Nonsense. My daughter is injured. I’m going to tend to her.” 

Tears rolled down her swollen cheeks. “He’s gone mama…” she whimpered. “He’s gone, and he never said goodbye.”  

“Oh my baby,” Phlegma embraced her in a gentle hug. Then she asked the room. “What happened? Who did this to my daughter?” 

Astrid rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and listened to the full story. 

“Dagur came to the barracks this morning and told us all that he was going to force the Rider out of town,” began Snotlout. “There wasn’t much protesting, but once he issued enough threats about pay, everyone was on board. Well, not me, but I didn’t know what to do. Right before he came to town, he had them all form a line to keep him from going to Astrid. Then, once the Rider arrived, he gave this long winded speech about how he’s been given power by Oswald and he’s the leader of the town and by his authority, the Rider was forbidden from entering the town.” 

“What a load of horse shit,” Phlegma spat. 

“He told the Rider that if he ever came back, he’d be attacked on sight.” He sighed. “That’s when Astrid arrived. She heard that much and did this…admittedly amazing grapple around his neck. But he slammed her to the ground and punched her.”

“I couldn’t stand by,” Astrid pleaded her case. “I had to fight for him.” Tears welled up again, and she sobbed. “But he just stood there…and then he left.” 

“Astrid,” Snotlout gripped her shoulder. “Everyone could tell he didn’t want to. But you were so vulnerable, I’m certain he was afraid of you getting hurt worse. Dagur had you pinned and had a sword.” 

She weakly wiped her face, her hand coming back smeared with blood. 

“We all know he loves you in his own way. That had to be really hard for him.” 

“I mean,” said Tuffnut. “Dagur basically threatened Rider with Astrid. After he threw her on the ground, he said ‘I know where to hit where it hurts.’” 

Phlegma held her daughter a little closer. 

“I think we need to be vigilant,” said Heather. “I talked him down for today, but there’s no telling when he’ll snap again.” 

“I think Astrid is the biggest target,” said Fishlegs. “We should take turns staying here and watching both of them.” 

Suddenly, the group heard maniacal laughter from outside. There was no doubt who it belonged to. The twins cautiously looked outside. 

“Aww…” Said Ruffnut. 

“That sucks.” 

“What?” Astrid asked, not actually wanting to know the answer.

Ruffnut met her gaze with sympathy. “He’s burning your cart, and all your flowers.” 

Dejected, Astrid hung her head. 

“It’s alright, lass. I’ll build you a new one,” Gobber squeezed her arm. 

“It’s not even mine. I have no way to pay for it…” She hid her face in her hands. “I hate him. I hate him so much.”

[bashfullove]

❦I Died With You❦

❦Summary: the gang is over, Arthur has died, after finally arriving at John's and Abigail's doorstep, you realize how much you will now struggle without Arthur

❦Pairing: Arthur Morgan x F.Reader

❦Warnings: established relationship, no comfort what so ever, days after Arthur's death, mentions coughing of blood, character death

❦Notes: hehe >:) (we're acting like I didn't literally start crying while writing this, alright?) This is also fairly short I apologise

The crickets chirped their melody, the creakiness of the front door opening being barely heard over the never ending chirping. As quiet as a field mouse, you walk out of John's and Abigail's house on the farm. Uncle's snoring is heard even from outside but it's become white noise compared to the words in your head right now. The balled up piece of paper is tossed to the ground, a letter that you wished you could address but you never would.

You had once enjoyed the quiet and peacefulness of the night but now it was just a cold reminder of loneliness. The dry ground below you with the dead grass crunches, moths flying in the air, lured in by the lantern by the door. Looking up at the full moon, you used to love staring at it, knowing that he could see the same moon. It was special, a reminder that no matter how far, you could still be close with such a simply, maybe foolish, gesture.

Maybe living so close to someone who reminded you so much of him wasn't helping your grieving process, you could barely even utter his name without feeling yourself fall apart. The hat now on John's head the cruelest of reminders. The hat that once would be upon your head as a joke, the sound of his laughs when it would tip over your eyes.

Blaming yourself had been your worst trait lately, maybe if you did something better, or just done more. Spent more time with him or took the Thomas Downes job for him. He deserved to still be here, you wanted to take his place, you wanted to be the one who felt their lungs slowly start to fail, all if it meant that he would get one more day. One more ride, one more duel, one more sunrise...

"I'd rather die in the next hour than go a million lives never knowing you."

The words haunted you since the day you parted, the day you watched him get on the horse for his last ride. You never thought yourself important to anyone until he came into your life, he was the air that you breathed but now there is no air.

But you’d hold tightly onto those last grains of dust, desperate to keep any shred of his memory close to you. Even if most of the memories now were of his suffering, the days you spent just holding him as he suffered. Combing his hair from his sweat ridden forehead, rubbing his back when he would be coughing and wiping his mouth later of the blood, attempting to catch him before he could fall on the ground hunched over.

“What have you done to me, Arthur Morgan,” you said. The words were demanding but were hollow when paired with the sob that tore through your throat. You walked across the front yard of the house, eyes glued to the moon and the sky. You hadn't said his name since you parted from him on that mountain. Saying his name just meant more pain and more memories of the man that you once loved, and still did love.

“Have I truly lost it all? Is there any kind of up from all of this?” you whispered, a sad smile tugging on your lips and a whisper of a laugh leaving your mouth. You sniffled and cleared your voice, "I suppose not."

Unfinished conversations with Arthur still spoke words, letters that you wrote him daily now only a balled up corner in your room that he would never see. You couldn't even say your heart was breaking anymore, it didn't exist. His last breath took your heart with him to wherever he could even be now. You wished to believe that he had someone became better, that he would show up on the doorstep, that him dying was nothing but a cruel dream. But reality was cruel, he wouldn't ever come and surprise you, not anymore.

A part of you died with him that day, anyone who had known you before his death could see it.

❦Thank You For Reading❦

❦Taglist:

❦Bashfullove❦

[camerajerk]

do you still do photography? I tried to learn but I got confused when they started talking about shutter speed and ISO !!!! @_@

is it fun? do you consider photography art? what’s your favorite song right now? do you own a ipod or Walkman or somethin to listen to tunes with?? what’s your favorite genre of music? you seem like a divorced dad rock kinda dude!

do you think rocks are interesting? do you think gemstones are pretty? Whats your favorite bug? OOH! do you like isopods? whilst technically crustaceans, the rubber duck isopod gives off similar vibes to you!!

oh- oops- sorry for rambling !!! xP

- ants would totally think your rad, 🐜🐜

Aw dude, thanks for asking me something actually interesting, I'm more than just the world's best looking kidnap victim.

I still do photography, I mainly focus on bands and venues now. I get to go to a lot of shows for free because my shots get used for promotional shit like flyers and album art, which is pretty neat. The cash doesn't hurt either lol. I totally consider photography to be an art form if it's done right, but it's pretty easy to tell the difference between someone who cares about the craft vs some rich yuppie who thinks they can buy talent with some expensive camera.

My favourite song right now is private eye by alkaline trio, I always find myself listening to them in the winter months for some reason. I actually splashed out and got myself a cd walkman not long ago. It's pretty bulky, so I think I prefer my cassette player in that regard, but it's still good. The audio is a lot more crisp on it, which is a plus when you live in a noisy city. I think punk music has to be my favourite genre, I'm big on the damned, dead kennedys and the clash, but there's a special place in my heart for pitbull daycare, even though that's not really punk. I used to listen to them in high school because it pissed my dad off lmao. Good times.

I'm neutral about rocks. I think the most I've ever thought about them was when I was a kid, I used to huck rocks at trains with my buddy Scott. Not sure why we did that, but it kept us entertained.

I've actually got a newfound appreciation for bugs. The use to freak me out kinda, but when I was trapped in that bathroom there was this spider that had a Web on the pipe I was attached to. I was down there for a few days, and I actually caught myself chatting to the spider just to pass the time. I definitely lost my marbles down there, but it was nice to know I wasn't completely alone.

I googled that rubber duck isopod, and he's a funny looking little guy. I think that's one of the nicer animals I've been compared to in my life, my dad always said I reminded him of a horse- well, part of a horse anyway lmao.

Ants are cool, as long as they don't gather in my apartment. Had an ant infestation one time and it took my asshole landlord like three months to actually do anything about it.

[wayfayrr]

I first have to say that since I’ve only played Botw, some of totk, and maybe half of twilight, idk the other Links except for how people write them in fanfics and LU, so if my reason for each one doesn’t make sense, sorry!

1. Twilight - calm country boy but won’t accept being taken advantage of, also deeply cares about his friends and family (of the Links, he reminds me most of one of my best friends)

2. Four - also calm, logical, in fanfics is usually the only one holding the group’s singular brain cell lol (I’m a very logical person as opposed to emotional)

3. Sky - mother of the group, very sweet and loving (reminds me of my other best friend, but both Sky and my best friend can be a little too serious bc of this trait, I like to make jokes and mess around sometimes)

4. Tears - I think he’s a little less chaotic than Wild, I say a LITTLE lol, but idk, he can drive things so that’d help with traveling because I don’t like walking too much, but seeing scenery while flying would be pretty cool

5. Hyrule - most of the fanfics portray him as a very shy timid follower, and while I don’t want someone to dominate me in r relationship, I also don’t want to dominate, I need to have someone who can take charge but doesn’t boss me around

6. Wild - kinda already explained this one, ik he also has horses we could ride but still

7. Legend - his sense of humor being sarcasm is the same as me, I love sarcasm, I once said to someone “my sarcasm makes up for the whole population”, but while r senses of humor would be the same, I can’t see us working that well in a relationship, his abrasiveness is a lot and I’d rather have someone who’s softer and can cuddle with me w/o having to pretend it’s the worst thing ever bc eww feelings

8. Warriors - ik he has a soft side but his very flirtatious and arrogant personality would absolutely clash w me, it would turn me off immediately

Time and Wind excluded bc of age

If u want/have the time, I’d love to hear ur reasons for each one!

🐰

sorry I didn't put up the reasons on the og post, I kinda completely missed that bit 😅 but yeah there are reasons for why I've ranked them as such

1 - sky (literally no matter what au) He's insanely caring about people that he's close to, but can also be pretty snarky and rude. He and I have pretty similar senses of humor plus he's really loyal and honest to people he wants to keep close. (also I see him the most as being ace and even if I hc the others as such it just fits him the best IMO and idk if I would want to date any more allos after my experiences fbvsbfbvs)

2 - Twilight soft! country! boy!!!!! He's loyal to a T and is just so warm cuddly and oh I do love him so - I think he'd be number one for compatibility if it wasn't for my fear of dogs lmao

3 - tears I mean, besides him being like wild but more interested in technology and with more ability to cook? also I wanna help him dye his hair because that would be so fun :3

4 - wild I often get told that I'm him irl (personality and action-wise), so I hope that'd translate into us getting along? I like being outdoors and we could probably bond over eating rocks tbh

5 - hyrule soft fae boyyyyyyy, he's so sweet but I don't think I could move around as much as he does, he's none stop compared to wild.

6 - warriors So, this is more for canon and how other people see him rather than my own hcs (my hcs actually bumping him up from dead last surprisingly) he's usually shown as a playboy and knowing people in most places he goes while flirting with people to get things for reduced prices and I have pretty bad trust issues! I would wouldn't want to date him if he was showing interest in others while with me <3 also his arrogance would make me shutdown and not interact with him sdvsf

7 - four So while I don't mind being with someone shorter than me, I would like to be with someone a close height to mine whether that be a bit shorter or taller. the line is drawn when he barely makes it to my elbow when we're both standing. Plus I think our personalities simply match better to be friends rather than romantically, I could see myself being good friends with him - just no romance

8 - legend Idk I just don't think I would ever want to date him tbh, I see him as more compatible with a friend of mine and that's partly why too - I wouldn't want to nab him from her <3