#you mean the 'gift' you were ambushed with when you wanted to die | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cassiebones · 5 months ago

Text

I wonder how often Agatha said "I can be good" to her mother

Did Agatha start showing her powers early on? Were there sparks already flying between toddler Agatha's fingers. Did she excitedly show her mother what she could do? Was Evanora shocked that such a young child could have such power? Did she take it as an omen that her child wasn't "right"? Did she worry that Agatha's powers would grow into something untamable? Did she start mistreating her then or before then? Evanora was also a witch, but what did that mean? Especially for somebody convinced that her child was pure evil.

Did she immediately punish her daughter, calling her bad an evil, locking her away for using her powers? Did she drill into Agatha's head that she was an evil child? Did baby Agatha cry and scream and pound on the door, promising that she would be good?

Did she grow older, watching her mother take part in this coven of witches? Did she watch the younger children? Did she make sure they were fed and safe as their mothers gathered for coven meetings? Did she grow an affection for them? Did she show them some tricks that she learned sneaking a peek in her mother's books? Did she get caught by a coven member? Was that member horrified by her? Or impressed? Did she bring it to Evanora, asking when this gifted young witch was going to be inducted into their coven? Did Evanora then tell her coven mate that Agatha was not to be in any coven, that she was evil, that her powers should not be developed because she would use them for only bad things?

Did Agatha get locked up again, bound by her mother so that she couldn't use her power to escape? Did she cry and scream again, begging for release? Or was she used to this now? Was this just her life? Did she resolve to not stop using magic, but to stop showing others her magic?

Was she quiet, respectful, and obedient to her mother, trying desperately to be good? Did her mother care?

I bet Evanora took every chance she could get to tell Agatha how evil she was, how bad she was, how she would only ever cause destruction. And resentment built from that. She still loved her mother, but she also wanted to prove herself. That she could be good.

That's what she told her mother every time she was called evil.

"I can be good!"

I bet Evanora snarled at her. "I doubt it." And it made Agatha feel so small.

I wonder if Agatha got so tired of being hated by her mother so much, for no good reason. Her powers grew and she kept them a secret, but she didn't want a mother from whom she had to hide her magic. She wanted one who celebrated her power, encouraged her gifts, praised her and told her how much she loved her.

Forced Love spells are, without a single doubt in my mind, dark magic. You cannot and should not force somebody to love you. But Agatha is desperate for even an ounce of love. Especially since she's stopped being allowed to care for the children, who are all now fearful of her, thinking her evil.

So she tries to find some love spells, spells that can give her the loving mother/daughter relationship she has always craved, the relationship the other coven members have with their daughters.

But she's caught looking for them, poring over a book of dark magic. She's reported quietly to Evanora, who suddenly starts to be affectionate toward her daughter, inviting her to the coven for an initiation, trying to entice her daughter with kind words and gentle support, but secretly planning her demise.

Agatha of course thinks that her spell worked and trusts that he mother is changed, that she loves her now as a mother should, so she accepts the invitation.

And she is ambushed. She is tied to a stake while her mother's coven stands around her, as her mother spells out her doom, telling her that she is evil and must now die.

Agatha cries and begs and pleads, telling her that she can be good, please, Mother!

But Evanora doesn't listen. She and the rest of her coven attempt to kill her daughter...and fail spectacularly.

Instead, a new, dormant power is revealed: Agatha can absorb the powers of those that try to harm her, like a sponge.

She doesn't mean to do it. She doesn't truly want her mother to die. She doesn't know what has even happened until she's on her hands and knees in front of the stake, purple magic that isn't her own, buzzing through her body.

It feels exhilarating, but that feeling doesn't last when she sees the empty husk of her mother a few feet ahead. Then the other coven witches, all mothers in their own right, all with small children whom they love, who love them.

Agatha killed them all. But she didn't mean to! She didn't want anybody to die! She just wanted to be loved by her mother.

She begins to sob at her mother's corpse. Her entire body heaving with it, her hands grasping the dirt around her.

"Wow," a voice says from above her. Agatha jumps and stares up at the figure of a cloaked woman, with black hair spilling from a bright green cloak. "You have caused quite some damage, huh?"

Agatha's eyes widen and she shakes her head, pushing herself away from this woman, crying and denying.

"N-no! I di-didn't mean to! I can be good! I swear!"

The hood of the cloak falls, revealing a pale face with dark eyes full of empathy, a frown on her face. She puts her hands up in surrender.

"Okay," she says, her voice smooth and soft, "I know. I know this wasn't..." she looks around at all the bodies, "your fault. Still, it is pretty impressive." She gives Agatha a genuine grin. "You must be a pretty powerful witch."

Agatha's face immediately burns at the praise. Nobody has ever praised her like this before. It's kind of...nice.

She clears her throat and wipes away the tears from her cheeks. "Not if you ask my mother," she says, bitterly. "To her, I am pure evil."

"Not much of a mother then, huh?" Rio huffs, slightly kicking the shell that is Evanora Harkness. "But what do I know? I've never really had one of those. I mean, unless you count..." She motions around them, to the trees, the Earth, the sky, then shrugs.

Agatha is confused, but doesn't ask questions. She just stares, in silence, at this mysterious woman who seems to have sprung up out of nowhere. She thought she knew all the women in the village - especially the pleasant-looking ones. She had kept that fact from her mother, of course. But she wasn't blind.

And this woman....oh, she was the most pleasant-looking of them all. Beautiful, even. Agatha's face felt as though it had been set on fire at the thought and she coughed.

"Oh, how rude of me," the green-cloaked woman says, "I've failed to introduce myself." In a second, she is kneeling in front of Agatha, suddenly in front of her when she'd been several feet away. "Rio Vidal." She reaches for Agatha's hand, which had been scratched in her fall. "Oof, that's a nasty one," she says. "Allow me."

To Agatha's shock, she licks the back of her hand. Agatha squeaks, pulling her hand away.

"Are you mad?" she huffs, wiping her bloody hand on the skirt of her dress. "You're going to give me the Plague..." Her eyes widen when she looks back at her hand, finding no scratches, just saliva and a bit of blood and dirt. When she looks up at Rio, her eyes are narrowed.

"Who are you?" she asks.

"Rio Vid--"

"What are you?" Agatha clarifies. "I've never met anybody who can...do that. Not without a chant and some moonlight. Are you..." she lowers her voice, "a dark witch?"

Rio lets out a bit of a cackles as she straightens, lifting herself above Agatha, then offering her a hand to stand as well.

"Not exactly," she says. "But I don't typically feel the need to explain myself to strangers." She tilts her head, pointedly, and Agatha flushes, again.

"Harkness," she says. "Agatha Harkness."

"Harkness?" Rio's eyes flash with familiarity. "I've known many in the Harkness line. But I've never known an Agatha." She bows to Agatha, taking one of her hands in both of hers. "My lady," she says. Agatha is blushing again, cursing at herself to cut that out already.

"My mother didn't really like to talk about me," she said, ashamed.

Rio's eyes widen at that, then she looks around them at the deceased coven witches. "You sure about that?" she asked. "This seems like a pre-planned, discussed-at-length, kind of event. I think she spoke of you plenty."

Tears prick at the corners of Agatha's eyes. "Not because she was proud of me," she said. "But because she thought that I was evil."

Without preamble, Rio reaches forward, placing her hand on Agatha's chest, right between her breasts. Agatha flushes again and stutters a bit. "You really have no respect for boundaries, do you?" she huffs, but she doesn't push Rio away.

Rio laughs and pulls back a second later. "Apologies," she says. "I was just checking on something."

"My heart rate?" Agatha huffs.

"Now that you mention it," Rio teases, and Agatha hides a smile behind the curtain of her hair, looking down. Rio softens at the display of shyness. "You're not evil," she says. "You've just been poorly treated by one who is meant to love you, unconditionally. If anybody is evil, it is--was your mother." Then she groans. "Your mother who is screaming in my ear right now, so give me just a moment. I'll return."

Agatha furrows her brow as she watches Rio walk around the circle of bodies, touching each one with a glowing green hand, then placing her hand into the pocket of her cloak. When she's finished with the last body, she gives Agatha another bow and then disappears into nothingness, leaving Agatha flabberghasted.

While she waits, she looks at her healed hand, which still tingles at the memory of Rio's tongue swiping across it. The bodies are still there, but they feel...quieter, somehow. Her chest aches when she looks at her mother. But there's no guilt or sadness there, only rage.

When Rio reappears two feet in front of her, she has a frown etched on her face.

"How you lived with that woman without strangling her, I will never understand. You are much stronger than me."

Agatha warms at the compliment, enjoying the way it makes her flush this time.

"Anyway," Rio continues, "I have good news and bad news."

"What's the bad news?"

"Your mother refuses to cross over to the other side. She'd prefer to stay a ghost here rather than go on her merry way to Hell, where she belongs!" She glares to her right, as if there's an entity standing right beside her where Agatha sees only open air.

"Um," Agatha says, feeling as though she just received the confirmation that Rio is a madwoman. "And what's the good news?"

"You can't hear her," Rio says, with a grin, "and she is powerless to do anything about that." She turns back to the open air. "Scream all you want, bitch; she can't hear you." She turns back to Agatha. "Congratulations. Now, you just have one more task."

"What's that?" Agatha asks, frowning. "Hiding the bodies?"

"Oh," Rio says, looking around. "Yeah, you should probably do that. Here, I'll help." She twists her fingers in the air and suddenly all the bodies around them start to sink into the Earth, leaving behind flowers and patches of green gas. "Rest in peace," Rio says, somberly, before turning her bright smile back to Agatha. "No, I was talking about the children."

"The children?" Agatha asks. "You mean...the coven children?"

"Yep," Rio says.

"What about them?"

"They're going to become a problem. You have to kill them."

Agatha's eyes widen at that. "What? No! I can't!"

"It's tradition!" Rio huffs. "After you slay a witch, you have to kill her offspring, so that her line dies with her and you don't create little revenge gremlins out for your blood."

"I killed my own mother," Agatha pointed out. "Does that mean I'd kill myself, as well?"

Rio shrugs. "You could," she says. "Then we could probably spend more time together."

"How so?"

"Have you not figured it out yet, sweetheart?" Rio asks, grinning madly again. "What my job is?"

Agatha's eyes widen at that. "You're Death." It's not a question. Rio still answers it with a wide, beautiful grin. "So you were just...around?"

"I heard whispers of an attack," Rio says, walking around Agatha in a slow circle while Agatha turns to look at her. "Figured I'd get a jump on collecting the body. Doesn't hurt that you're not hard on the eyes."

Agatha blushes at that and clears her throat.

"Guess you got more than you bargained for, huh?"

"Eight bodies and a beautiful, powerful witch?" Rio asks, stopping where she'd originally stood. "Feels more like I've been blessed. But what would I know? I've never been blessed."

"Neither have I," Agatha says, growing a bit bolder at the praise. "But I guess there's a first time for everything."

Rio grins, stepping into her space, their noses practically brushing as energy sparks between them, green and purple, complimentary.

"Seriously, though," Rio whispers in the space between their breaths, "you have to kill them. The children. It's the only way."

Agatha steps back. "I can't," she says. "They're...they're so young. Innocent. I will not fault them for the actions of their mothers."

"It's your choice," Rio says, shrugging, "but it's also your funeral." She grins. "I'm fine with it either way."

"You are mad," Agatha says, with a snort.

"Join me, then," Rio whispers between their lips. "It's fun."

Agatha feels herself leaning forward, as if drawn in by some kind of magnetism, her lips attaching themselves to Rio's, which are cold and hot at the same time, dizzying.

When she opens her eyes, however, Rio is gone.

And she is alone again.

#this started as an angsty post about Mommy Issues #and it turned into fanfiction #vidarkness #fanfiction #sorry not sorry #agatha all along

16 notes · View notes

pentacass · 2 years ago

Note

Was Eva separated from her sister as a child or did Eva discover she had a sister later in life? Does Ves have a plan for if things go wrong when knowingly knocks back a poison drink or is Ves just a dumbass? Does Roziq and Elara's reunion happen more or less like a romanced Elara in game or does it go differently?

*head rattling sounds continue in the distance* <3

Was Eva separated from her sister as a child or did Eva discover she had a sister later in life?

Eva was close to her older sister, Elarin - who is Force-sensitive. When it manifested, their family kept it tightly under wraps for years, until Elarin couldn't control it anymore. She was 'gifted' to the Sith to build relations with the Empire.

Eva was heartbroken when Elarin left, and devastated when they received news of Elarin's demise a year later. The family probed, but all they got was a vague 'Jedi ambushed our Sith acolytes' story. They recognised the smokescreen, but only Eva decided to pursue it further. She wanted to believe her sister is alive; if not, then she would give Elarin proper last rites.

To get closer to the truth, she needed get into the Empire. She spoke to the family's Imperial contact, who knew of her espionage training, and got her into Imperial Intelligence...where she eventually became Cipher Nine.

She'd only found scant info about her sister's acolyte group being 'ambushed' by Jedi, before her life was fucking ruined turned upside in the class story. Even after she set herself free with the Black Codex, Eva was too busy dealing with trauma and galactic affairs to resume the search for her sister proper.

Fast forward to when Task Force Nova is formed, Eva offers her services in the search for Jedi, thinking to scrape info from them after getting nothing in the Empire. Then - she catches Elarin's name falling from a Jedi's tongue, pursues that lead with dogged fervour, until she has her Jedi sister held tightly in her arms.

Does Ves have a plan for if things go wrong when she knowingly knocks back a poison drink or is Ves just a dumbass?

You look at this fucker's face and tell me if anything goes on in her head before she puts anything in her mouth.

To be (a little) fair, she'd already tested the drink discreetly and taken a sip before Eva told her it was poisoned. At that point, there were two possibilities - either Ves' detection had failed, or Eva was lying. But she had already ingested the poison, and if Eva's warning was true, she'd die anyway. So in a Supreme Dumbass moment, she went 'fuck it. can she really kill me if even I can't kill me??' and downed the rest of the drink.

Honestly, Ves was betting that Eva's lying; if Eva wanted to get into the Alliance, and Ves was her best hook, then why would Eva kill her? Eva never tells, and Ves never knows. Eva did slide her a pill at the end of their chat, but for all Ves knows, it's just a sugar pill to keep up the illusion.

Also something something Force techniques, Ves has some ways to slow poison in her body until she can get an antidote from her stash. Darth Avriss has probably seen multiple poisoning attempts by now. No biggie. Just don't tell Lana she fuckin. slammed back a poison drink like she was doing shots.

Does Roziq and Elara's reunion happen more or less like a romanced Elara in game or does it go differently?

Gonna be honest, I haven't thought much about Roziq and Elara! Since Roziq wasn't with Aelirra on Iokath, they'd reunite on Odessen, when Elara returns with the Commander.

They would be happy to see each other safe and sound, Roziq lifting Elara from the ground in a bear hug, while Elara tries to hide the blush on her face. They'd have a rowdy time in the cantina with the rest of Havoc Squad, before sitting down in private to hash out what's happened between them.

I mean, they did part ways when their goals weren't aligned, despite wearing on their fingers the vow to always be there for each other. It'll be okay though, don't worry!!!!!

#*sweats at my growing inky backlog*#swtor #zhaste'varu'mir #vestra lenshe #roziq #elara dorne #ask #intheinkpot

4 notes · View notes

fict1onallyobsessed · 3 years ago

Text

How'd they react to you getting bitten by an infected.

Includes Ellie, Dina, Abby.

ELLIE WILLIAMS - She was on patrol with you, looking through a library neither of you hadn't come across in a long time. Tommy had found a new trail and you were picked to scout it, but Ellie volunteered to come along after hearing there were many possible supplies on the way. (Plus she wasn't happy with you going alone). Unluckily, you were both ambushed by stalkers.

Fucking stalkers. The crawling corpse took you by surprise when you were running from a couple of clickers chasing you. With a quick grab of your ankle, your face made contact with the floor. The clickers were distracted with Ellie when you fell. Thick, red blood poured from your nose, but all you could feel is the sharp pain of crooked and broken teeth on your shin. Quickly kicking it off, you snatched your gun and shot it three times just to make sure it was dead. The gun's noise rattled through the building and Ellie had no other choice but to shoot them down before the clickers got to you.

Running back to where you fell, she stared in horror at your face before kneeling next to you. Both of you were out of breath, but when you looked up from the bite mark to her eyes, she instantly clicked on.

"No. No, no, no, no, no."

"Ellie-"

"No. Shut up. You'll be okay."

Obviously you weren't, and you can bet your ass she was blaming herself. I mean, after all she did volunteer because she didn't want you going alone. But she went with you, she was supposed to protect you, and she failed. Not to mention the additional guilt of her being immune herself. Regardless if she told you about her immunity, she was still hit with guilt that she would of been able to survive if it was here instead of you. Maybe if she ended up dying on that medical table, you wouldn't of had to be here in the first place.

She let her mind spiral as she looked at your wound. She didn't want you to die. Since Joel, she had finally found the one person that could make her genuinely smile, not just a half-ass smirk now and then. Genuinely smile.

"I'm not leaving you here."

And she didn't. She finally decided to get herself together, to breathe before she sat down next to you let you lay your head on her chest. You sat between her legs, tears streaming down your cheeks as her arms kept you close. She cried too, but she didn’t let you notice. Silent tears flowing down into your coat.

You gripped the bite mark until it started to sting, get redder and worsen with unpleasant looking boils starting to form. The actual transformation into the fungus happened over a period of two days, so you had a few hours to hold each other before you’d started showing signs of distress.

“El- Ellie.”

You stuttered as the bite mark started to hurt even more. She kissed the top of your forehead, humming gently since her throat was too dry to answer.

“You pr- promised. Don’t leave me to turn into those things.”

She closed her eyes, hugging you tighter as the first audible sob left her mouth. She was expecting that from you. You’ve always told her that you never wanted to turn into the fungus if you did get bitten. It always either turned into an argument up until she agreed, finally seeing your side of the whole argument.

To be honest, she only agreed because she didn’t think you’d ever get bitten. Naive, I know. But she promised herself to protect you, no matter what. Regardless if it was her sacrificing herself to cannibals or letting herself get bitten again, she’d do anything.

“I can’t.”

Her voice was uncharacteristically high from the sobs she tried to suppress. It wasn’t easy on her as she watched you weakly reach to the holder on your thigh, pulling out the gun she’d gifted you on your latest birthday. With a quick move, you were already too weak to lift your arms, so you let the gun drop to her side.

“You’ll move on. You’ve got Dina, Tommy, Jessie. They’ll take care of you. Yo- you have to promise me not to shut them out. For me.”

She sniffed a little, giving you a little squeeze to your side before nodding.

“Just let me hold you, please.”

You did, up until you had to weakly beg her to shoot you through yours and her sobs.

DINA - She’s the kind of person to joke until she notices you’re not joking.

“That chase was insane! Have you seen how fast those fuckers ran?”

You listened to her rant as she threw her body onto the couch in Eugenes secret weed bunker. It had been your ‘place’ ever since she and you found it a few months back.

“Dina.”

You gripped your arm, sniffing as you gripped it tighter. For a second, you listened to her talk, enjoying the serenity of the situation, ignoring the pain shooting through your skin. The agony was much worse than you’d imagined, and as much as you wanted to ignore it, it kept coming back.

“…and then the fucking ladder broke- Babe are you okay?”

You opened your eyes, lifting your head from the wall it leaned against and looked at her. Your hand was still holding your arm, blood slowly seeping through the cracks of your fingers.

She slowly looked down at your bloody hand, before sitting up with a blunt on her hand that was now dropping to the floor. She couldn’t believe it. You? Got bitten?

“Jesus.”

She shot up, walking towards you and grabbing your arm to see the bite mark clearer. Her eyes didn’t show any emotion as she breathed in. Without a word, she turned around and grabbed a rag, stopping for a moment to breathe in again, compose herself before she turned around towards you.

“Dina.”

“Please, let me take care of you.”

You nodded, clutching your jaw as she delicately rubbed your small cuts and wounds before getting to the big one. She knew cleaning it wouldn’t so anything, but it gave her a peace of mind that’s she’s taking care of you, even if it was for the last time.

“I’m sorry, love. Just a little more.”

“Dina. Look at me.”

She did, slowly caressing your wrist as she held your arm. With a little hesitation, she looked into your eyes, revealing nothing but sadness covered under the tears that threatened to fall.

“I love you so much. I always have.”

She nodded, sniffing slightly before trying to smile.

“I do too.”

Much like Ellie, she’d hold you as your crying in pain, soothing your skin until you can’t take her looking at you anymore, asking her to do the inevitable.

ABBY ANDERSON - oh boy.

We all know she’s all for revenge, and she’ll have plenty of that once she finds out you were bitten. Not towards you, or herself even, but towards the world.

Why did such a shitty world take out someone so amazing as you. She had prepared herself for this moment many times, whether it was involuntarily, through her dreams, or after the fact where she thought about how to protect you in case her dreams came true. But now she didn’t really know what to do, or what to feel.

You had just found an abandoned building to bunk in until the next day, the sky falling a darker shade every hour as the moon rose brighter ever other.

You fell into a chair with a groan, letting the bag you’d been carrying around fall into the dusty floor boards. Her head snapped to you, what initially was nothing but concentration turned into worry as she watched you unzip your jumped after your bag had fallen.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay.”

“Show me.”

“It’s nothin-”

“Show me.”

You were pretty much fucked now. You’d gotten bitten less than 10 minutes ago after having a 1v1 against a runner, and you were going to tell her after she’d calmed down from the fight. But she noticed faster.

Your eyes remained on hers, watching as she tried to find your wound by herself. You signed, trying to avoid her worried gaze. With a wobbly stand, you kept yourself up using the back of the chair.

You heard her gasp when you turned around, revealing not one, but two small bites on the back of your thigh. They got you when you were climbing the ladder to escape, and it started to sting more and more as you moved.

Regardless of how many times she’d been through what to do in this situation, she froze. Nothing running through her mind. Fingers going numb. Not only does this mean she’s alone again. She’d lose the most important person to her.

“Please, say something.”

You hadn’t noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks until you spoke and heard your broken up voice. Hers wasn’t much better. She didn’t want to watch as the fungus took over your body. She wanted to leave, selfishly. But she couldn’t leave you alone.

“I- um.”

You exhaled shakily, sniffing as you turned back around and sat on the edge of the chair as not to disturb the wounds more. Leaning your elbows on your knees, you sobbed and watched as your tears fell onto the ground.

You hadn’t heard her walk closer to you. But you looked up when you felt a strong hand on each of your knees. Abby, teary eyed looked up at you and gave it the best attempt to smile up at you. It was a rare sight to see. Abby crying.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay, look at me.

“I’m so sorry, Abby-”

“No. No, look at me, baby.”

You did, weakly hissing and grabbing your leg as it sent a wave of pain through your muscles. Before she said anything else, she grabbed a tourniquet and wrapped it around your leg, stop it from causing you so much pain as you slowly bled.

“You’re okay. Okay? Just keep looking at me.”

Her fingers rubbed your leg comfortingly as she watched your groan in pain now and then. Eventually she sat on the floor, letting you lay on top of her so that whatever you sat on didn’t hurt your wounds more.

She stroked your hair, placing kisses and whispering sweet nothings into your hear. She doesn’t cry until you’re gone, simply because she needed a long time to get over the fact she’d never actually see you again.

THE END

367 notes · View notes

grumpygreenwitch · 2 years ago

Text

The Fairy and the Prince #9 + #10

Part 1 - Part 2 - Parts 3 & 4 - Part 5 - Part 6, 7 & 8 - Part 9 & 10 - Part 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 & 16 - Part 17, 18, & 19 - Part 20, 21 & 22 - Part 23, 24, 25 & 26 - Part 27, 28, 29 & 30 - Part 31, 32, 33 & 34 - Part 35, 36 & 37 - Part 38, 39, 40 & 41 - Part 42 & 43 - Part 44 & 45 - Part 46 & 47 - Part 48, 49, 50 & 51 - Part, 52, 53 & 54 - Part 55 & 56 - Part 57, 58, 59 & 60 - Part 61, 62, 63, 64 & 65 - Part 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71 & 72

Hm. I considered, very much, posting these chapters separately. But 9 ends in a cliffhanger and that seemed incredibly mean, and so I didn’t. I’m a grumpy goat, not a mean one.

On a rainy day of early spring, Prince Rickard accused Prince Ulster of stealing a favorite book. The book, of course, was found in Ulster's room; he claimed it had been loaned to him, a gift between friends. The argument came down to the only solution available where every wronged party had only words, not witnesses.

Rickard ran Ulster through, and all the Queen's physicians could do was stabilize him long enough to make the trip home and die with his family. Prince Alexander formally abandoned his claim to the throne and rode away on that day. Adam watched the train leave, perched on his windowsill. They wouldn't be the last, he was sure; Rickard had opened a door the older princes would be too eager to troop through.

Meanwhile Adam found himself having to sneak away again. Aware that the youngest prince had, for some reason, caught the Dowager's eye, master Leminy stuffed Adam's schedule full without so much as the prince's by-your-leave. Adam retaliated by beginning his disappearing act once again. No amount of shouting at Beli or Dane would make them chase after the young prince when he took to the rooftops, and when the Master of Scions tried his temper against Arditty, he discovered himself at the receiving end of someone who could, and did, out-shout, out-shriek, out-talk and out-curse him. He beat a hasty retreat, not wishing attention brought to his faults, gritted his teeth, and tried every other trick in the book to figure out where the foul little urchin was going off to.

It couldn't be a girl. The disappearing had started long before Adam's interest in the fair sex had been roused, and he seemed about as interested in the lovely Arditty and her occasional companions as he was in his jousting lessons.

It couldn't be extra classes. Every teacher in the palace accounted for their time down to the last minute, the last tick and turn of a toothed wheel, and Leminy's careful investigations had revealed no other source of education, noble or plebeian.

No, the boy was larking off, and gods only knew where. In all honesty, if he'd known Adam kept going into the woods to wait for Linden, master Leminy would have likely backed off and waited gleefully for him to disappear. He would have taken away the prince's friends, his horse, his hawk, his books, everything, but the Queen Dowager thought it utterly adorable that the youngest of her potential heirs was organizing a tidsy-bitsy court around himself. If they were to suddenly vanish, she would want to know why.

So Leminy raged impotently and Adam waited impatiently. Wary of the woods, where the fog might creep up on him from ambush, he waited at the very edge, on the roof of a water mill in the newly finished Royal Gardens, or climbing up the trees that had been moved into them. It was there that he saw Boul, creeping out of the woods by small measures, squinting at the bring afternoon sunlight, shading his face with an upraised hand and looking at least twice as big as he'd been when Adam had last seen him.

"Boul!" he cried out gladly, forgot he was nearly twenty feet off the ground, and stepped on a too-thin branch that snapped right out from under his boot.

A strong, nut-brown hand caught his, and the wild and merry laugh he knew so well made his heart soar. "You're never getting good at this, are you?"

"Why should I?" He grinned up at Linden, his grip around their wrist as strong as his friend's around his. "You're always there to catch me."

Linden laughed again, pulling him up, and they slid together down the tree and into a hug as soon as they hit the ground. The young troll had indeed grown, and he rumbled in flustered surprise when Adam hugged him as well, long arms coming around the prince and very carefully patting him in welcome. They exchanged leaving-and-returning and staying-and-waiting presents, and Adam watched in fascination as Boul pressed the stone arrow-head to his arm, where it sank seamlessly into the pebbled gray skin, only to reappear a moment later, point up, between the young troll's knuckle. Boul looked incredibly pleased. Linden wove the striped, long feather of a hawk into their hair, and then helped secure around Adam's neck a grass necklace with a shell that had long ago turned to shimmering stone.

They ran wild through the woods and crept along the raw new edges of the Royal Gardens. They spied on the late afternoon classes in the inner and outer yards. Adam tried to teach Boul to fight and gave up when he realized he was only bruising his knuckles against the pebbly gray skin of the troll. He tried his luck against Linden, but his friend with their shattered eyes and the wild mop of their fine white hair was as fast as the swift-traveling clouds. The young prince tried to practice his wrestling on Boul, too, but even their weight combined was still not enough to even budge the young troll, who took to racing wild and gleeful through the woods with both his friends dangling off his neck like the twin ends of a scarf, all of them laughing.

They met the kelpie right in the middle of summer's highest heat, when the air was still and full of motes, the leaves at their darkest green, the light golden. Boul could only come by once a week at that point, and they both missed him terribly. Linden was flopped on one immense, exposed root from the linden tree, half-drowsed and whistling back to the birds in the canopy, who found the conversation both invigorating and maddening, if their enthusiastic replies were anything to go by. Adam, having shed everything but his pants and shirt, was lying with his back on the sweet green grass and his feet propped up on the tree of the trunk, the bark a pleasant scratchy feeling against his heels. He was bouncing a piece of Linden's sunlight, bright and warm, from one hand to another, and he was nearly asleep.

The scream that cut through the woods sent every bird on the wing in perfect, panicked silence, as if a hawk had swooped at them from the empty blue sky. Adam rolled and scrabbled to his feet and nearly got trampled by a deer that had been grazing startlingly close to the children. Linden fell right off the root with a squawk, coming back up on their knees behind it, eyes wide on a face so pale their green freckles were starkly visible.

"What was -" The scream repeated, louder, full of madness and fury and agony, and Adam felt the nearly uncontrollable urge to join the deer in its heedless flight. "Linden."

"Oh, no," his friend whispered.

"Linden, what is that."

"Adam, we should -"

"Linden."

"We should go -"

The scream came again, rising to a shrieking note that rang against Adam's bones and rattled in his teeth, making every inch of him clench in pain. All he could think at the moment was that, if that was how the sound of it made him feel, what sort of torture was the creature screaming feeling? A moment later he was running, barefoot, panting, through the woods.

"Adam!" Linden was just a breath behind him. All around them the trees whispered, and for all that he could never fully hear them, the prince felt their concern, their worry and their fear. He raced on. They passed the great fallen giant that had once been their fortress, their ship, their dragon, until decay had sent it back to join the rich ground from whence it had once sprung. They passed a low, ruined wall of tumbled stones and roses gone to briars. They ran until the ground under their feet went muddy and soft and Adam nearly fell and was forced to check his speed, breathing hard, shoving cattails and wild irises out of his way.

"Adam, we can't be here!" Linden whispered, trying to catch his breath.

A new scream deafened them, and they both dropped to a crouch on the soggy ground, curled up, trying to escape what couldn't be fled, driven by instinct to make themselves small. Adam recovered first, inching forward, but he could feel the sun-warm presence of Linden at his back after a moment, and then the clinging hands of his friend clutching the back of his shirt.

The ground opened up to a pond. There were rotten stumps of wood off to one side that said once it had been a tame place, but that had been a long time ago, long enough that the stumps were soft and rounded, covered in moss and barely peeking out of the water. It was a beautiful place. There were two willows and several cherry trees growing by the water, gnarled with age and the passage of the wind. The shores were screened here and there with cattails and wild irises, with wort and mint, but for the most part there was a vast ribbon of clear, soft and short green grass all around the water, as if inviting anyone who passed by to sit, to rest and enjoy the cool breeze and the pretty sights.

It was a very well crafted trap.

The water, normally clean and with a delicate embroidery of wild water lilies, had been churned to a muddy frot, thrashed to chaos by the heavy links of a chain. One end of it disappeared into the depths of the water, and Adam knew instantly what it was: a storm chain. At some point the pond had been part of a river's sluice system, likely the same river that had been partially diverted to cavort and twist in artificially wild whorls and cascades through the Royal Gardens. The gate and its mechanism had likely gone to ruin eventually; when they'd done so, the chain that controlled both had grown loose.

And the pond's master had, somehow, got caught in it.

The kelpie was running in narrow, maddened arcs at the other end of the chain. It wasn't disguised; this was no beautiful white horse, no magnificent stallion, no sweet mare. Adam could count every bone under the sagging, mold-splotched white hide. Its eyes were a poisonous green and most of its face was bare bone, a few scarce strands of rotting flesh holding together its jaws, jaws full of teeth even a dragon would have envied. Froth and spittle flew from those jaws as it bucked and twisted and writhed, but the chain, the iron chain, had tangled up around a foreleg and, in trying to get free, the fairy horse had somehow ended up with both leg and neck caught in a loop. The broken end of the chain ended in a hook that no longer attached to anything, and that hook kept slamming into the side of the kelpie's neck, which was slowly oozing a black, sickly slime from a dozen wounds.

It would have fled into the water, Adam was certain, if it weren't because the chain was coming from the water, and likely the kelpie thought there was an enemy, a predator, on the other end, instead of whatever hundredweight counterweight stone had been placed there an unknown age ago.

The kelpie paused in its frantic struggles, sniffing the breeze. Adam felt Linden gasp tinily.

The monster lunged at them, its scream fury and hunger. Linden yanked at Adam's shirt.

"Wait," Adam caught Linden's hand. His math was nowhere near Beli's level, but his archery was excellent.

He wasn't wrong. The chain yanked taut and the kelpie crashed down a good four body lengths or more from them, shrieking impotent fury. It fought itself to its feet with tremendous effort, the chain's hook now embedded into a shoulder, faced them, and hissed.

"Adam," Linded whispered urgently, "we should go."

"But it's hurt. It's caught."

"It's caught in iron, Adam, we can't help it, and even if we could, it's a kelpie!"

"And?" Adam turned to face those beautiful many-colored eyes. "That's his nature, not his fault. That's like blaming me for being a prince when I never wanted to be."

"Adam, I can't make you not a prince," Linden declared impatiently, "but I hope I can keep you from getting chewed up to bits!"

Adam looked away. Linden was right, of course. The kelpie didn't care. It wouldn't care if they tried to help it, it wouldn't care if they had good intentions. It was a kelpie. It hunted, it drowned, it ate. As fairies went, it was one of the simplest, for all that it also was one of the most dangerous.

"It's just wrong, to leave anything to die like that," Adam said quietly.

"Yes, it is," Linden agreed after a moment. And then, because they had been friends for so long, they added, "I would help you, but I won't risk you. You're my friend, the kelpie's not."

Adam couldn't help but grin. "I don't think he's anyone's friend, Linden."

"Do you really think we can help it?"

"I don't know. Let me think." Adam chewed restlessly on his lips. In the distance he heard horns from the castle, saw the kelpie's head come up, ears pricked. "Oh, butter and burrs," he muttered, Culli's favorite non-swear.

"What is it, what's happened?"

"They heard him screaming at the palace. They're calling for everyone to go indoors." Adam blew a low breath. "I'm going to be in so much trouble."

Linden made no comment, but from their expression Adam had a sudden, unexpected insight into his friend's life. "Are you going to be in trouble for helping it, Linden?"

"Not for helping it," his friend replied. It would have probably worked on any other twelve-year-old.

"For helping me?"

"No!" Linden blew out a sharp sigh. "For getting this close to it at all." When Adam looked faintly frustrated, they pointed both hands dramatically at the monstrous creature. "It's a kelpie, Adam," they pointed out tartly.

"Ugh!" Adam tugged impatiently at his hair, as if by doing so he could tug out some miraculous fix to the problem at hand. "Can you get us some rope?"

"You can't trap a kelpie with rope."

"It's not for him, it's for me."

***

Adam had meant to use himself as bait but Linden wouldn't have it, and they were, the prince had to admit, the quicker and more agile of the two. He waited and watched, chewing restlessly on his nails and nursing a near-painful pit in his stomach, as Linden slipped out of the cover the wild irises had given them both. The kelpie turned immediately, one side lathered in its black, oozing blood.

Linden bowed, graceful and polite, never taking their eyes off the creature. With an awkward hobble, the kelpie bowed back, and lunged.

Linden ran, fleet as a stray breeze, and the kelpie's teeth closed on nothing. The fairy predator twisted around with preternatural grace, but Linden was better and the false horse nearly went down trying to keep up. They ran for the willow trees and the kelpie surged forward on the straight sprint.

Linden twisted away and slid on the mud, and from his spot among the irises Adam winced as he heard the kelpie's fangs snap shut. Like thistle down, a few white hairs flew away in the breeze and the monstrous horse howled fury, leaping to re-orient itself, stumbling. Linden was halfway to the gnarled cherry trees when the kelpie surged finally after them.

Adam, watching with his heart in his mouth and drowning in preemptive regrets, saw it at last, saw it as clearly as he'd never seen it before: a branch swung low, covered in glossy green leaves, like a gnarled hand. With the kelpie's hungry breath washing over the back of their fragile neck, Linden caught that hand and twisted around the cherry tree, turning right back the way they'd come. The false horse slid, crashed down, scrabbled to its feet and launched after its prey, blind with hunger, all its cunning drowned in rage. Linden whipped around another cherry tree, the ground under their feet impossibly free of gnarled, jutting roots, and the kelpie followed, neck stretched out after the promise of warm flesh and hot blood to sate its hunger -

The chain it was trailing abruptly drew up short; the kelpie went flying ass over teakettle in a crash that would have absolutely killed a normal horse. It righted itself, legs flailing at angles nothing alive should have been able to exhibit without immense pain, and simply rested there, on the ground, looking absolutely perplexed. It looked behind itself, as if to confirm the obvious, and snorted in absolute disbelief: the chain was a knot of twists and loops and turns.

Adam rushed over to where Linden had stopped, hands on their knees, breathing hard. "You did it!"

"Uh-huh," was all Linden could wheeze. "Your turn."

"Right." Adam looked at the kelpie; it had fixed its venomous, alien gaze on the two of them, ears as flat to its bare skull as any real horse's, and likely for the same reason. It took every ounce of courage the prince had never known he had to take the first step forward toward the monster.

The kelpie awkwardly surged to its hooves and growled, a low and burbling sound. Adam faltered, and then stepped forward slowly again. "Wait until I call, Linden," he cried out over his shoulder, never taking his eyes from the fairy.

"I don't want to, but I will!" his friend replied, already climbing up one of the ancient willows.

Adam drew a deep, shaking breath. He had a stick in one hand, a good long one that had many times served as both spear and flagpole, and every now again as an impromptu fishing rod. It was sturdy oak, polished by his years of favoring it. Around his shoulders and waist were the knots of a slender, golden rope, as thin around as his littlest finger. He knew better than to look at it too closely; like Linden's many-colored, shattered eyes, he might see the truth of it if he did, and it'd be useless as a rope then.

He grew as close to the kelpie as he dared, and bowed as he'd seen Linden do, though nowhere near as gracefully. The kelpie's ears came up in surprise and, after a moment, it bowed back.

Adam blew out a long breath, steeled himself, and reached out with the stick, blowing sweat and sticky hair out of his eyes as he worked to keep it steady. Carefully, so carefully, he slid the tip of the stick under the hook where it had shallowly buried itself into the predator's shoulder. The white, mottled and sickly skin gave way as he pushed with a sickening squelching sound, but when Adam pulled the stick away to try again, it came free without issue. The kelpie watched him with feral intensity, and its growl never abated.

He slipped the pole under the hook on the third try, and realized gentleness would not avail him. He yanked, hard and sudden with a grunt, and the iron hook slipped free, black slimy droplets flying through the heated air. He staggered back and the kelpie lunged forward with a shrill cry, only to nearly go down face-first, checked by the chain still wrapped around its foreleg.

"Adam!"

"It's fine, it's fine!" It was so many things far beyond fine that it had come right back around to it, Adam thought as he picked himself up. He paced back and forth a bit, squinting at the sight of the chain and trying to figure out how to untangle it, the water horse's predatory gaze never wavering from him.

The easy part was dragging the chain off the kelpie's neck. It left a ragged, oozing path of rotting gray and murky black as it went, and the horse shook itself from nose to tail as it did, just as the real animal would have. Adam had to get far too close to catch the first loop tangled around the predator's leg, and when he looked up from his work it was to find that the kelpie had stretched its neck as far as it could, a long tongue like a mud eel writhing between its fangs trying to latch onto any part of the young prince it could reach. It was barely three inches away, but they were three inches it couldn't ford.

Adam swallowed the stone in his throat and sent it to join the one sitting heavily in his stomach. "Linden, get ready!"

"Ready!"

He caught the hook and lifted it with the tip of his stick, unwinding the chain by slow measures. He struck the kelpie's chest once and the horse hissed at him like a goose, but it didn't otherwise react. The leg was a blackened, sorry mess.

Moving as quick as he could, Adam swung the hook aside. Almost before he knew if he'd done it right he was scrabbling back and away, yanking the pole up like a shield. "Linden!"

The kelpie leapt forward, free, and its head struck like a viper's, aimed for Adam's throat. Instead its jaws found that faithful length of weathered oak. Its fangs closed like a cleaver striking a carcass, and the pole splintered with a terrible crack.

Adam went down on his butt, but he was already flying back, back and away, sliding over the mud and grass as if he were a leaf and a strong wind had caught him, Linden pulling on the rope as fast as their hands could move. The kelpie, bad leg or not, screamed a challenge and lunged after prey that kept denying him. It tripped, the leg unwilling to fully hold it upright, and it tried to snap instead at one of the prince's bare feet. Adam threw one of the stick halves at it and it reared in shock, its whinny almost a horse's if not for the note of utter disbelief in it. As if it couldn't fathom having a stick thrown at its face as a defense mechanism.

And then Adam was at the willow, and he scrabbled for branches that were simply there, where his hands would find them. He climbed, in panic and desperation, trying to catch a breath terror would not let him have. Strong hands found his and yanked him up even as he kicked himself away from the ground. The kelpie's teeth snapped shut one last time, just below him. Under the willow, the fairy horse dropped from its rear and spun, squealing in fury, cow-kicking at the willow's trunk. It paced and trotted underneath, head cocked so it could stare at the two children, first with one eye, then the other, snarling openly.

Adam and Linden climbed a little higher.

The kelpie chewed on the willow's bark, likely out of spite more than any thought that it could actually take the venerable tree down. It yanked on the trailing boughs, brought several down and grew incensed all over again when they draped over the wounds on its back. It crow-hopped and kicked and circled the tree like a prowling wolf. And finally, after pawing at the ground restlessly with its bad leg and bending down to sniff at it, it hobbled away, proud and slow, tail held up like a banner. By the time it disappeared beyond the cherry trees, it was a magnificent white stallion with bright blue eyes and a leg bathed in crimson blood.

The children fought to catch their breath, harried and ragged, Adam's head nearly at the top of the willow, Linden halfway out of the canopy.

The willow creaked in the breeze.

The cherry trees sighed.

"It's gone," Linden whispered. "Adam..."

Slowly, unexpected, laughter bubbled up from them both. They looked at each other and for some reason that made them laugh even harder, the sight of them, the knowledge of what they had achieved, with a weathered oak pole and a rope made of woven dandelions and the two of them and nothing else.

Linden tumbled off the willow, laughing like the ringing of crystal bells, and landed sprawled on the soft grass beneath the willow. Adam scrambled down and dropped on his stomach, and they could do little but laugh until they couldn't breathe, next to the beautiful pond and in the shade of the whispering willow boughs. In the end, Adam rose to his feet and offered Linden a hand. "Come on!"

They raced through the woods, laughing still, whooping gladly into the golden, still air. Occasionally in the distance they would hear the palace knights shouting, calling out to one another as they tried to find the source of the screaming, bereft of guidance now that it had stopped. None of the searchers found the two friends as they sprinted beneath the trees, none of them saw them pass, or heard their merry sounds, or the whisper of their footsteps. They ran out of the woods and through the primly manicured lawns of the palace, across empty courtyards and over low hedges. Linden took the lead, leaping gracefully as a hart atop a low wall, Adam following, fearless in the wake of his best and first friend. They raced over the ledges and roofs and narrow heights of the palace as wildly as they had run through the woods, unafraid and unfaltering, calling out greetings to the water spouts and the nesting swallows.

Culli-maid was sitting next to the cold heart in Adam's rooms when she heard the rapid tapping on one of the windows. At first she'd thought it was herself; she had a terribly unladylike habit of tapping her foot rapidly when she came under stress. But a quick look down reminded her that she was wearing soft leather slippers and, anyway, they would have made no sound on the thick pile of the rug before the empty hearth.

She thought it might be the boys, but the last time she'd checked on them Beli had had his nose buried in one of Adam's homework journals, checking against it his own work, and Dane had been asleep, snoring faintly, on a couch. Neither had reason to draw attention to themselves, least of all at that moment.

Eventually, she realized where the sound came from, and gasped hugely. The mending she'd hardly been tending to tumbled from her lap to the ground and she rushed to the window; there, on the other side, Adam pointed at the locks.

"Oh, tree-father and night-mother!" the maid whispered, flapping a hand at the prince. "Alright, well, step away so I don't shove you off whatever it is you're standing on!" she hissed at him before throwing the window open. "Your Highness, where've you been!"

Adam grinned at her and leaned back some, and Culli's breath caught very sharply. The prince was clinging by his fingertips to the graven stone windowsill, filthy and unafraid, the bright blue of his royal-blood eyes alive in a way she had never seen. There were green smears on his shirt, flecks of mud and dirt everywhere on him, and his hair would have made rats a proud nest. He was standing, as far as she could tell, on the slippery clay of a rain sluice pipe, unconcerned at the fact that only his toes had room to perch on it, or that he was four stories above a rose garden.

"Having fun," Adam replied, releasing one hand to rub it against his shirt. As his weight shifted, Culli lost her ability to breathe altogether.

Linden, inhuman and beautiful, graceful and wild, blinked at the maid with their shattered, many-colored eyes, and the maid blinked back.

"Culli, this is Linden. Linden, this is Culli-maid; she's good."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Culli wheezed out, manners kicking in where everything else she'd ever learned in life was failing her. She even offered a little curtsy, though it came out stiff and trembling. The motion forced her to let go of the window, and Adam scrabbled in like a squirrel.

"Pleasure to make yours, Culli-maid," Linden replied, their voice lilting and their eyes the most astonishing shade of green Culli had ever seen in a face as sharp and brown as finely carved and polished wood. She would never remember what she'd glimpsed before, buried in that green.

"Are you..." Culli swallowed to try and get her voice to work anywhere near properly. "Are you coming in?"

"Me? No! What good would it do me, what good would I do?" Linden laughed. "Adam?"

"Have they been by to check on me, Culli?"

"No, highness. But they'll be here soon, I heard them pass on the way to the other wing."

"I'll be fine, then, Linden. Will you?"

"I don't know," Linden admitted, shifting restlessly on the sluice until they noticed the Culli-maid was beginning to be more terrified of them falling than of their presence. "I'll send Boul if I get in trouble!" And with that warning Adam had to be satisfied as Linden bolted down the clay pipe, swift and light and out of sight a moment later, a leap up taking them to the roofs and beyond anyone's reach.

#the fairy and the prince #linden and adam #linden the fairy #adam the prince #original writing #fantasy #fantasy writing #boul #boul the troll #boulders-for-brains

11 notes · View notes

apriorisea · 4 years ago

Text

"That's What These Mean" Yoongi x You

"You both look so beautiful!" Your aunt still has your hand gripped firmly between both of hers, and she punctuates every word with a tight squeeze. "So happy, so perfect, so wonderful!"

"Thanks so much," you say for the millionth time, managing to keep your smile intact. "We're so glad you're here." You try to extract your hand, but it's no use.

"When I married your uncle---" she begins, and you feel something inside you start to wither away.

You loved your aunt, you really did, but it had been such a long day, and there were so many people. So much small talk and smiling and pictures and the words "thank you so much" were starting to lose all meaning. You felt your social battery nearing its limit. A few more seconds here and you might implode entirely. It---

"Oh!" Your hand is suddenly released as your aunt's attention is drawn to someone who has appeared behind you; someone who placed one hand on the small of your back and reached out his other to claim your own recently-liberated hand. Your aunt is beaming. "Here's the gentleman himself!"

Yoongi's hand slips around your waist, pulling you back against him slightly as he joins the conversation. "Hello," he says politely and warmly, gently squeezing your fingers. "Sorry to interrupt, but may I steal my lovely wife for a bit?"

Your aunt is still beaming, absolutely thrilled at the sight of him and the two of you together. "Of course!" she gushes, and you could swear she's got tears in her eyes. "I wouldn't keep a man from his beautiful, blushing bride, not for one second!"

Yoongi smiles, still polite, still warm. "Thank you. We're so glad you're here!" And with that, he pulls you away, guiding you across the room with ease.

You allow yourself to be towed away, feeling some of your own warmth return at the feel of his hand wrapped protectively around yours. When you both are stopped for a moment by a passing conga-line, you lean forward and press a kiss to his shoulder. "Thanks, baby," you murmur, straightening just in time to roll your eyes playfully at Hoseok and Taehyung, who were clearly the instigators of the ridiculous dance line.

He responds by squeezing your fingers, but doesn't stop to speak just yet.

A moment later, you realize why: pushing open a door, he leads you into a small room just off the main hall. It's decorated simply, flowers and all, but the main focus is the small, velvet-cushioned couch up against the far wall.

Yoongi closes the door behind you and when you turn to look at him, he gives you a soft smile. "I thought you could use a little break."

Heart exploding with gratitude, you melt into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding on tight. "You were right," you mumble against his shoulder.

"I needed it, too," he admits, kissing the side of your head. Pulling back a little, he guides you to the small couch and helps you settle comfortably, arranging your dress in the best way possible. When you're all set, he stays standing for a moment, looking down at you with a strange expression on his face.

"...What?"

He smiles. "You're beautiful."

You feel your entire face flush. "Yoongi..."

Leaning down, he brushes a strand of your hair away from your face. "I love you so much, my sweetheart," he says softly. "I'm happiest when I'm with you."

You close the small gap, kissing him until he's forced to settle on the couch next to you. When you finally break apart, you snuggle into his side, his arms wrapped around you, holding each other tight.

"I love you, too," you say, absently fiddling with a button on his shirt. "I'm so grateful for you and how well you know me."

He kisses your forehead. "Everyone out there is great," he sighs, leaning back against the couch's soft cushions. "But, like always, sometimes I just need to be alone...with you. My beautiful girl." A grin creeps over his face. "My beautiful wife."

"Oh, that's right..." you pretend. "I did marry you today, didn't I?"

Yoongi rolls with it. "Yes, you did. What were you thinking?"

Twisting towards him, you reach up and kiss the tip of his nose. "That I love you more than anything in this whole universe and if I had to spend even a second without you, I'd probably die."

He laughs. "Oh, is that all?"

You nod.

Leaning in to kiss you again, he murmurs against your lips: "I feel the same."

Grinning, you settle into him again, resting your head on his shoulder as he absently played with your fingers. "...How long do you think we can hide out here?"

"As long as we want," he says confidently.

You sigh. "Probably not, considering that it's our wedding reception after all."

"That," he says, squeezing you a little tighter. "is exactly why we can do what we want. It's our party. Plus I'm pretty sure they'll stay distracted by that infernal dance line for a while now..."

This makes you laugh. "Best gift they could ever give us!"

He grins at the sound of your laughter, unable to stop himself from leaning in to kiss your cheek. "Why don't we stay just a little longer? Just until we're both able to face all that again?"

"I like the sound of that," you agree. "But when we do go back, we do it together, okay? No more getting ambushed alone!"

Tapping the ring on his finger, then the one on yours, he says seriously, "No more doing anything scary alone, sweetheart."

You follow his gaze to the rings. "Ah, so that's what these mean." You smile. "That sounds perfect to me."

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts clean imagines #BTS #non-smut #requests #apriori sea requests #apriori sea imagines #wedding night series #bts imagine yoongi #yoongi #suga #that's what these mean

125 notes · View notes

spacewizardtrek · 4 years ago

Photo

WARNING: This post will ruin you. Like Medusa; look at your peril.

But here is is. It’s the one you’ve all been waiting for.

Kirk bod appreciation #7: The RIDICULOUSLY BEAUTIFUL FACE. A highly technical and academic review.

This is a rather nebulous one. And not, on the face of it (pardon the pun) very philosophical, as it’s essentially about Kirk being stupidly pretty. This post probably will (it will) descend into just screaming and sobbing, but there will be, I promise, *some* meaningful insight into the meaning of ‘beauty’ and textual analysis of its role herein.

Beauty is subjective. But look at him. It’s not just being aesthetic, but it’s the *way* he’s aesthetic. Here I might repeat myself a bit, but stay with me. I may have mentioned before once hearing him described as ‘beautiful in the way women are often described as beautiful’. He is PRETTY. He is indeed often conveyed in the way the women stereotypically (not necessarily rightly) are on screen: perfect, smooth skin; soft, big eyes; luscious lips (his body is sensually curvaceous and furthermore it’s emphasised). He’s not androgynous though. He’s masculine. And yet I still sense what was meant in describing him as ‘beautiful in the way women are often described as beautiful’. He is a rather uncommon form of gender fuckery. He is a form of stereotype-subversion not commonly acknowledged. He seems to be everything at once, ALL THE GENDER; combines whichever traits he desires from those categories, and yet is undeniably a man and masculine whatever the ingredients. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE, one might wonder. The fact of the matter is, that it IS. And it teaches us something.

The FUCK. nO. You are not allowed to be that pretty, and you are NOT allowed to look at her like that. We’re trying to have a SENSIBLE DISCUSSION here.

Sorry, that was a non-sequitur / nothing to do with what we learn by Kirk’s embodiment; I was just ambushed by my own gif. Only the control of a Vulcan. ONLY that could possibly withstand this onslaught. And even that won’t hold up forever AS WE WELL KNOW

God.

This is going well, as you can tell.

OK. So, it’s claimed he has Eyes and Stupidly Long Weakness-Inducing Eyelashes. You know, from all that fanfic that goes on about ‘big, sparkling eyes’ and him fanning his ‘long, copper eyelashes’. I mean, yeah right, tropey mc tropeface -

IT’S TRUE. HE IS LITERALLY AN ANIME PRINCESS.

There are some moments where he just BLINKS and, how to describe it...how does a BLINK have that effect. It’s NOT ALLOWED.

...I’m sorry. It IS allowed. All of it. I am not shaming you your beauty. Never change, Jim. Never.

OK. I’m ok. 3 pics down, we can get through this -

Oh you are joking. Stop.

I don’t understand how anyone can be so beautiful. Life is a lie. Reality is fake -

- you did NOT just turn your big anime eyes on Spock. You do know this is why he ran away to PURGE ALL HIS EMOTIONS?

And for that matter, you know when Kirk looks his most beautiful? Literally WHEN HE’S LOOKING AT SPOCK. Spock talks some bollocks and Kirk just sparkles like a fucking angel:

Unbelievable. But utterly undeniable.

Sigh. Moving on.

Oh - someone once suggested I talk about The Lips. Lips are so wonderful aren’t they. So many wonderful things they can do.

And Kirk’s. They’re there in every picture: perfect, rosy, soft and madness-inducing. My advice is just...don’t think about them. But since I’ve been asked to draw attention to them, well, you’ve just sealed your fate. Scroll down at your peril.

I WARNED YOU.

I am pulling NO punches.

I’ve seen this great meme going around:

Excuse me though....CUTE?

That’s the understatement of the 23rd century.

Try impossibly beautiful, mind and body: heart of solid gold, soul deep in love with you. Those eyes and all their passion burned into your memories a thousand times over, along with - maybe, suggestibly, idk I’m extrapolating from all the goddamn tension - even the one unforgettable time he laid between lily-white sheets and gave himself to you; every gift of the mind, body and soul - and your ostensibly-forced Vulcan conditioning, that completely ignored how incompatible one part of you was with it, caused so much dissonance that you thought the only possible course of action for you both to survive was to BREAK UP, tear yourself from this beauty and love and sweetness to PURGE ALL EMOTIONS because nothing, nothing equipped you for this; you were set up specifically to fail, and fail hard in the face of transcendental love and beauty by those who rejected such things and didn’t understand you and could never imagine this for you and who instead of helping your beautiful neurodivergent brain flourish taught you to repress and caused you pain and shame and Gol was so hard and Kirk was so sad, so very sad and depressed and hurt and yet he couldn’t stop loving you with a bond so strong he called to you across the stars and Gol was all for naught yet you still didn’t know how to live like this, it was torture, torture until the mind meld with the living machine flashed your BIOS and you knew, love.exe was suddenly running with no errors and he came after you and held you and you held hands and, and -

*sobbing*

just...give me a moment

YOU WONDER WHAT THE SUBTEXT (FRIKKIN’ MAIN TEXT) OF STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE WAS ALL ABOUT???

The pain?? The angst?? The two logical entities seeking contact, love, THIS SIMPLE FEELING? That fucking moment when spock walks on the bridge and the only way he can control himself is to be SUPER Vulcan, while his love gazes at him with those EYES, fucking huge and glittering and hurt and loving?? Is it so much a mystery what memories these two are carrying, what’s behind the searing tension???????

Love him. Love him Spock. Take him in your arms and love him. He’s for you. All for you. Fucking hell guys. The fuck. This movie.

ok.

ok I can do this

CAN U NOT

those damn eyes I swear

It’s obviously not all just superficial physical beauty. What IS beauty? Narratively we do sometimes find this ‘prettiness’ enhanced and emphasized like the old vaseline lens to set the tone of a scene (he’s vulnerable and delicate, or someone’s indeed in love with him so we see their ‘lens’ on him); but it is somewhat intangible and nebulous and changeable. I don’t think aesthetic beauty, if one deems it so, on its own, would be enough for the likes of Spock (indeed, no woman could charm him thusly); it's about something deeper. It’s about who he is. Who he is inside: the beautiful AND the imperfect. How his good and bad - how his ‘all’ - chimes with Spock’s 'all’. The Enemy Within deals with this, and shows how Spock loves all of Kirk, wants him complete, with both his light and shadow. The beauty of all of us is this totality and variance, not one intangible quality.

I’ll bet Spock’s parents knew immediately. Can you imagine Sarek trying to be a total bitch over Kirk, having heard the rumours and just wanting to have one more thing to reject Spock over, immediately projecting onto Kirk as some blow-up pretty-boy and how Incredibly More Disappointing My Son Is for being Obviously In Love With Stupid Illogical Human Doll Face Bubble Butt Bimbo Captain, and Amanda’s like, stfu, let me remind you Kirk is actually a Fucking Amazing Highly Decorated Starship Captain who Saves Your Life and don’t you DARE resent him just because he’s got tits/ass/tum/lips that won’t quit and is obviously the freakin’ sun Spock orbits. Mr ‘I married a human but that was special because it was logical’ or some bullshit. How is Kirk an illogical choice? I mean literally, Spock is a Science Genius™ on the federation’s FLAGSHIP whose well-matched Genius Captain™ understands him, accepts him, brings the best out of him, helps him fulfil his whole potential and is in love with him in the deepest and purest way and will be his bonded soulmate for ALL OF TIME and that fucking sour-faced bih at the start of that ep, ffs.

Of course Amanda stays in touch with Kirk, adores the fuck out of him, sends him old Vulcan lit on t’hy’la bonds (yes sarek, a T’HY’LA bond, so revered freakin’ poets write about it) etc because frankly her son could do FAR FUCKING WORSE.

FAR. FUCKING. WORSE.

Don’t...just don’t slip the bod into the equation, the face is enough for one post. We’re all in therapy for this already, let’s not relapse.

Oh, what’s the use. I’m gonna die. This is it. This is like the Monty Python joke that is so funny it kills you. This man is lethal. I need to stop this thread and purge all my emotions

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

That’s it. I’m dead. You’re dead. We’re all dead.

I hope, however, seeing this post was worth it. See you at Gol everyone.

The Forbidden Texts, DO NOT READ:

Kirk bod appreciation #6: The Curves. The Front. The...chest. AND THE AMAZING GREEN WRAP

Kirk bod appreciation #5: The Paws

Kirk bod appreciation #4: The Curves. The Back. Poetry in motion.

Kirk bod appreciation #3: Season 3 (Part 1)

Kirk bod appreciation #2b: The Gluteus Maximus

Kirk bod appreciation #2a: The Gluteus Maximus

Kirk bod appreciation #1: The Tum

423 notes · View notes

wyn-n-tonic · 4 years ago

Text

Tomorrow

Word Count: 1.1k Warnings: It's about the yearning. Author's Note: Hiiiii. So, I was sitting here drinking my Respect Oscar Isaac juice and thinking about how I feel like I'm really shit at the whole second person/reader insert perspective and why not experiment with the both of them? I decided this is a gift to my beautiful friend @soyelfuegoquearde because she has reignited this flame for Oscar in my soul and she just deserves it. Also, woo woo, two fics in the span of five hours? Maybe I'll write a second part to this, who knows. No editing, we die like men here.

MASTERLIST | Tomorrow | Today | Yesterday

“Fuck off, Santi.”

He’s leaning into the doorframe, face half buried in the arm that supports his weight against the wood but that doesn’t stop you from putting your weight and anger behind the swing to slam it shut.

It doesn’t work, of course it doesn’t. His hand flies out to catch it before it knocks him on his ass and you’d be disappointed if it weren't just a little impressive.

“Nice reflexes, old man, now fuck off.”

There’s a gin-no-tonic hanging from the tips of your right hand as you point his ass back to the street and your eyes are red but you still don’t know if the tears they shed come from sadness or anger. You look at him now, the peachy undertone of his skin glowing through the gold, and it hits you. You are enraged. A vibrant frequency of pain and hurt and fury rippling under your skin since he had the audacity to ambush you at work.

“Darli—“

“No,” you cut him off, “you don’t get to call me that, you left.”

You turn from him, resolving to have the conversation since he won’t take your advice, and walk through back to the kitchen. The thought of another drink is heavy on your mind, a little too appetizing as you down the rest of what’s left and send up a silent prayer that at least he had the courtesy to do this on a Friday. Your days of wrangling pre-teens into math class as the ghost of tequila past rattles your skull are long gone.

But so was Santiago Garcia until about five hours ago.

You turn to face him, his presence heavy on your heels through the house, “speak.”

That shit eating grin he always used to sport tugs at his lips now, a yes ma’am falling easily from his lips like you’re his commanding officer and he’s nothing but a good soldier.

Which is true, the only thing Santiago was ever good at was being a soldier.

“Don't be fucking cute,” you pour yourself another drink, neglecting to offer him one, “why are you here?”

“I missed you.”

It’s a snap reflex, the hefty glass hauled in the general direction of his head. Your favorite shatters against the wall and now it's not just his goddamn bootprints you’ll have to clean from the floors this weekend but it’s shards and the good gin that you only bring out on special occasions.

Or really fucking shitty ones.

You move for the broom through blurred eyes and you can’t tell if you’re drunk or if you’re crying but walking is so difficult now because he said that. Why would he say that?

“You don’t get to say that,” and you grab for the dustpan hanging behind the pantry door, moving forward to clean up another mess that Santiago Garcia caused.

He grabs your wrist as you shuffle forward past him, coaxing the cleaning supplies from your hands, “you're not wearing shoes, I’ve got it.”

Looking up into his normally calculating eyes you see what looks like sorrow in them but you shake that thought, certain it’s only your own reflected back at you.

He shuffles a pile of fragmented crystal together and squats—a noticeable wince contorting his features—to collect it for the trash when you ask,

"Why did you leave?”

It’s small, walls falling a little to your own vulnerability because you want to know. You want to understand what you did to deserve being left like that.

He takes a deep breath and sits up straight, hand resting on his thigh and you wonder how he’s holding that position if he's in so much pain but then he’s speaking and the anger is seeping back through you, bleeding into the sorrow with a rush of blood between your ears.

“You said you needed space.”

“Yes,” your eyes bore into his from above, “space, Santiago. In normal people speak, that means a couple of days so people can get their shit together—“

You can see his breathing quicken, you know from memory like it was yesterday just how fast his heart ticks forward when his chest heaves like that.

“—and figure stuff out with a clear head but, apparently, in Santiago’s world, that means fucking off to South America for three years.”

“I wanted you to go with me.”

It's his turn to sound small now. As you reach for the bottom still on the counter, he almost flinches. Like he’s expecting you to throw this one too.

And you should, it would serve him right, but it’s a seventy dollar bottle of gin and it’s still full up so you decide against it.

“I asked you to go with me.”

“And I asked for space, Santi,” the tears break then, frustration coming to a head, “to figure out the logistics of what that would mean for me and my career and you just chose for me without even a goodbye.”

“Baby,” he's reaching out but still so far away as he lifts himself to his full height, that grimace returning to his features.

"You didn't even call, Santiago!”

"I know.”

"So why are you here? Now? You don’t get to say you miss me, you are the one who chose to leave.”

He licks his lips, "I made a mistake.”

You meet that with a scoff, you know you're the best thing Santiago Garcia has ever had.

“Mistake is such a goddamn understatement.”

He places the dustpan on the table, crossing the distance between your bodies. The alcohol has dulled your reactions, you hardly register his hands wrapped around your arms until they’re there. Warm and burning through the fabric of your sleeves. And he's here. A breath away after thousands of miles and all you can think about is his lips and that last kiss before it all went to shit.

“When you asked for space, my fight of flight kicked in,” and you realize the sorrow in his eyes isn’t your reflection, “I thought you were trying to figure out how to leave me.” It's just him. “So I left before you could.”

You search his face for more answers but you know that’s all he has, the most vulnerable and bare truth of him laid out before you.

“Santi, I—“

“No,” he brings his hands up to cup your face, a thumb running along your bottom lip, “it's late, you’re drunk, let's get you to bed and we can talk about this tomorrow.”

You nod as much as you can, his rough palm stunting your movements, “yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He kisses your forehead and wraps himself around you in a hug, “tomorrow.”

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago 'pope' garcia #santiago pope garcia

164 notes · View notes

iam93percentstardust · 4 years ago

Note

Haii so i have a promot for you, it’s stuckony and it’s based around a carrie Underwood song called “ Renegade Runaway “

So basically Steve and Bucky are outlaw, who rob trains, banks, and gamble

Tony is a sharffes and teacher kid, who is also one hell of a gunslinger (like Doc holiday,bat masterson, and Wyatt earp), he’s also a blacksmith

Also happy early birthday! 💙

Thank you for the birthday wishes! This ended up being a lot sadder than I originally intended and I wasn't able to include everything, but I hope it still lives up to expectations!

As always, this fic is also on ao3

Tony has his pistol out almost before the door closes behind him. He peers into the darkness of the yard behind the smithy, silently complaining about his eyes taking too long to adjust from the bright fires to the gathering twilight. It puts him at a disadvantage for whoever is waiting out there for him.

“Aw darlin’, is that any way to greet your two favorite outlaws?” someone drawls.

Tony snorts and holsters the pistol again. “Two outlaws, you might be, but my favorites? Far from it,” he snarks.

Bucky Barnes steps into the light spilling out from the window, hand dramatically placed over his heart. “Tony, that cuts me to the quick. Really, the cruelty of your words, they break my heart.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony says, unimpressed. He turns his back on Bucky and locks the smithy door. Peter will leave through the front when he’s finished sweeping and extinguished the lights. Everything else is already stored in the backroom for the night, so there’s no reason he needs to worry about leaving the door unlocked, though he certainly could. Timely isn’t the sort of town that invites trouble, not like some of the lawless towns further west.

When he turns back around, Bucky has moved closer, nearly looming over him. Tony leans back against the door, letting Bucky press against him. Bucky will do it anyway, it’s easier to just give in to him now instead of putting up a fight they both know he doesn’t want.

“You gonna apologize for bein’ so mean?” Bucky breathes into his ear.

“No,” Tony says flatly, crossing his arms. “It’s the honest truth.”

It’s not. Nearly everyone in Timely knows Tony’s sweet on Bucky and his partner, who must be around here somewhere since Bucky mentioned both of them. But it wouldn’t do to be too easy for them. He’s not one of Natasha’s girls after all, giggly and flirtatious and willing to turn their skirts up for a little bit of coin. He likes to make his boys work to get him soft and smiling.

“Now that’s just an outright lie,” someone else says. Tony turns his head to see Steve’s bright blue eyes much closer than he’d expected given that he’d only sensed one of them in the yard earlier. “You love us.”

“Don’t,” Tony denies, turning his head in the other direction so he doesn’t have to see either of them. Steve may be right, Tony isn’t nearly as annoyed by them as he pretends, but loving the two of them makes his life so very hard that it’s easier to pretend he doesn’t have any feelings for them.

“Tony,” Steve murmurs.

Tony stubbornly refuses to look at them. These two outlaws waltz into town all too rarely, typically on the heels of some mess that’ll raise the rewards on their heads yet again, and turn Tony’s life upside down for the brief time they’re in Timely, only to break his heart when they inevitably leave. Sometimes, he wishes he’d never met them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers eventually, keeping his eyes fixed on the side of the saloon down the street. “The sheriff’s in town tonight. If he catches wind of you—you know Howard wants to be the one to bring you in.”

“Your father’s on a wild goose chase, honey,” Bucky says. “He got word we were hiding out in Howling Canyon.”

“Are you?”

“Do we look like we’re in Howling Canyon?” Steve asks amusedly.

“No. I meant when you’re not—” He stops, biting back the last few words. When they’re not in his bed, he means, but he can’t bring himself to say that. After an awkward pause, he finishes, “When you’re not in town.”

“No,” Steve assures him. “We’re staying—”

“Don’t tell me where,” Tony interrupts, finally turning back to look at them. They both look worried, and he wonders if they know how tired he is of this game they’ve been playing for five years. “You know I’ll have to tell Howard if he asks.”

Not that Howard would. The sheriff is one of the few people who doesn’t know that his son houses the two outlaws when they’re in Timely. He couldn’t even imagine that his son would dare defy him under his nose like that. But both Steve and Bucky know what happens when Tony doesn’t jump to Howard’s every order. They were the ones who took him to Dr. Banner’s after all, after Howard broke his arm for taking too long to finish the horseshoes for Jericho.

Steve’s eyes are stormy at the reminder of Howard’s wrath. Bucky’s mouth is set in a tight line. Neither of them approve of Howard. They’ve told Tony once before that they would take him away from here if only he would let them. But he won’t. There’s too much keeping him in Timely: his mother and Rhodey, even young Peter, who’s only been apprenticed to him for a few months. He can’t just go gallivanting off into the sunset, no matter how badly he wants to. And besides, he knows that the only reason they ask is so that he can get away from Howard. He doesn’t delude himself there. They’d let him go with them just out of range of Howard’s reach and then they’d cut him loose. It’s pity that makes them ask, not—not anything else.

“Just—” He sighs and ducks out from under Bucky’s arm. “Come on. Howard isn’t stupid. He’ll figure out you’re not in Howling Canyon eventually, and I’d like both your cocks at least once before he does.”

Tony once had aspirations of being one of the best gunslingers in the west. He had the best aim this side of the Mississippi and he was quick. He’d been planning on making a name for himself, same as his father had.

Bucky’s bullet through his left thigh had put an end to that dream real quick.

He’d been young—hardly even an adult—foolhardy, and unwilling to listen to Jarvis’ warnings that he wasn’t ready to take on Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who’d been terrorizing the towns in their small territory for the last three years. He’d been so convinced that he would be the one to bring them in and collect on the bounty. He’d studied their movements, known how they thought, and when Timely had gotten word that the two outlaws had robbed a bank in Faircreek, he’d ridden off on his own toward Harshaw instead of Tombstone like all the evidence pointed to.

He’d been right; the trail to Tombstone had been a false one. But he hadn’t had long to rest on his laurels because he’d been noticed. Steve and Bucky hadn’t been as lax in their vigilance as he’d assumed and they’d lain in wait for him, ambushed him, and ultimately shot him.

To this day, he doesn’t know what drove the two outlaws to take him in instead of leaving him out there to die in the desert, but they had. They’d carefully nursed him back to health, taken care of him when his injury had led to fever, and eventually, after nearly two months together, brought him to their bed with sweet words and sweeter kisses. He’d thought he would have done anything for them after that night, but the next morning, they’d sent him back on his way to Timely with nothing more than a promise that they’d be dropping in to check on him. It had been kind, though the damage had already been done. Tony’s injury ensured he’d never be the gunslinger he’d once dreamt of and his heart had been shattered. He’d apprenticed with Happy, taken up blacksmithing as a trade, and moved out of his parents’ home and into a small house not far from the smithy as his bad leg kept him from walking any great distances.

And when Bucky and Steve had kept their promise and stopped by his house to see him, well, his resolve to send them packing had withered. He’d made sure no one had noticed them and welcomed them inside, his poor heart still beating against his ribs in the pattern of their names.

They love him, he thinks, or at least they love him as best as they can, which is to say they don’t love him as much as he loves them. They certainly don’t love him enough to take him with them. And he understands—he does, despite what Rhodey thinks. His bad leg is a hindrance to outlaws such as themselves, particularly when it isn’t like they have a home base they could leave him out while they go out to commit whatever crime has struck their fancy. No, they’ve been nomads for as long as Tony has known them, never tied down to any one place, and he’s grateful that they at least love him enough to stay in this area instead of moving on to greener pastures.

He checks that the street is clear and then hurries them into his home. It’s changed slightly since the last time Steve and Bucky were in Timely. Pepper gifted him with a rug to go in front of the fireplace six months ago and Peter’s aunt made him a series of sketches of the view from the top of Howling Canyon that he hung in the kitchen. But other than that, the house is much the same as it’s always been, and he isn’t surprised when neither Steve nor Bucky pay any attention to the changes in favor of following him to the bedroom.

They strip him in silence, hands so gentle he’d call them reverent if he didn’t know any better. But he does know better. They don’t love him enough to be reverent. Reverence is saved for each other, for how Steve looks at Bucky in the early dawn when he thinks they’re both still sleeping, for Bucky saving Steve an extra cup of coffee, for the way they know how to tack each other’s horses just as well as they know their own. Reverence isn’t saved for him.

But he treats themreverently. He’s always treated them that way, since the night they took him to their bed. He’s never known any other way to love. They had been his first, the ones to ruin him for all others, and a small part of him hates them for that even as he kisses them hungrily, savoring these few moments he gets to spend with them.

He goes to his knees for them, worships Bucky’s cock with his mouth while Steve undresses, then lays down for Steve to open him up. He lets them fuck him, moans their names while they whisper praises in his ear, and pretends that this is enough, that he doesn’t want more. He imagines it though, imagines Steve lifting him onto Nomad and following Bucky out of town, never to return.

Bucky falls asleep when they’re done—he always does—so Steve is the one who stands and finds a washcloth from somewhere in the house. He wipes the three of them off and then lays down on his side, facing Tony.

“You’re sad tonight,” he says quietly.

“No,” Tony denies. He doesn’t want them to know that he wants more, that he’d do just about anything to get it. They’ll only feel bad that they can’t give him what he wants, like it’s any fault of theirs.

“You are,” Steve insists. “You try to hide it, but you are.”

“Steve…”

“I won’t ask you.” Steve’s own eyes are sad as he reaches out to run delicate fingers over Tony’s face. “I know you wouldn’t tell me anyway. That’s okay; you’re entitled to your secrets, sweetheart.”

There’s something terribly earnest in Steve’s expression, something that Tony doesn’t think he’s seen before. And he’s so close to blurting it out, begging Steve for something he can’t have. He swallows the words back with difficulty and asks instead, “What did you two do this time?”

Steve shrugs as best as he can. “A train.”

“A—” Tony stills. “You didn’t. Steve, you couldn’t. You’ll bring the Marshals down on your heads.”

“Had to,” Steve says casually. “Was the only way to get enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Gold,” Bucky says from behind him, startling him.

It takes a moment for the word to sink in, but his breath comes faster as he realizes just what they’ve done. “You didn’t,” he repeats, sitting up. He scrambles to the end of the bed, as far away from Steve and Bucky as he can get. The outlaws sit up as well, leaning against the headboard as they watch him warily. “What were the two of you thinking? No, don’t answer that. I know exactly what you were thinking: you weren’t. Because if you were, you would have known better. Forget the Marshals, you’ll bring the whole damn army down on your heads. How could you have been so stupid?”

“We were thinking we’d like to get a house,” Steve says, cutting him off.

“A—a house?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky agrees. “We found ourselves a little patch of land in California we’d like to settle down in. Needed one last robbery to get us enough money to buy it.”

Tony’s heart stops beating, he swears it does. “California,” he repeats faintly.

“Sure, they’ll never think to look for us in California.”

Bucky sounds so calm, as though he can’t see that Tony’s heart is breaking in front of them. How can he be so cruel? How can he just causally mention that they’re leaving him forever, as though the last five years mean nothing to them?

“When are you leaving?” he manages, and it shocks him how calm he sounds when he feels as though his grief is visible from the stars.

“Tomorrow,” Steve says. There’s something careful in the way he looks at Tony, like he at least might have some idea of what’s going through Tony’s head.

Tony repeats, “Tomorrow.” He nods, blinking furiously to try to clear his eyes of the treacherous tears he can feel welling up. He can’t let them know. They’re leaving tomorrow and he doesn’t want them to go. He knows it would have happened eventually. The lawless west is shrinking more and more each day. It’s only a matter of time before the law catches up to them. Their only option is to leave and go somewhere no one knows them. But does it have to be so soon? He’d thought they would have more time.

“So this is goodbye, then,” he says, twisting the bedcovers in his hands. He can’t look at them, too afraid they’ll know what’s racing through his head if he does.

“…Goodbye?” Steve asks. He sounds puzzled. Tony hates that. What right does he have to be confused? That’s for Tony, seeing as how he’s the one who’s been left out of the loop during all this. God above, how long have they been planning this? It must have been at least a year in the making.

“Yes, goodbye,” he says. “One last fuck to see you off, right?”

“One last… Tony,” Bucky says sharply, “do you think we’re plannin’ on leavin’ you here?”

Tony’s heart stops for the second time in as many minutes. “You’re not?” he asks, daring to peek at them. Steve looks horrified, Bucky thunderous as he leans forward to tug Tony into his arms. Tony doesn’t resist, too tired of pretending, too confused by the twists this conversation has taken to argue. Steve curls up against Bucky’s side, carding gentle fingers through Tony’s hair.

“Sweetheart, did you think we weren’t gone on you?” Steve asks, kissing his forehead. “We’ve been fallin’ for you since you figured out where we were goin’ and chased us down.”

“But you never asked me to come with you.”

“S’pose that’s my fault,” Bucky says gruffly. He gingerly touches the scar on Tony’s leg where Bucky’s bullet had ripped through him. “We saw how much pain you were in an’ we couldn’t bear to make it any worse. An’ that’s just what would have happened if you’d spent every night out there with us. We wanted to keep you safe, thought you’d be happier if you weren’t always in pain.”

“I wanted you,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to the underside of Bucky’s jaw. “I didn’t want to be left behind.”

“Yeah, we, uh, we get that now,” Steve mutters sheepishly. “Tony, say you’ll come with us this time. Don’t make us go off on our own this time. We want you to come, can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it.”

He should argue. He should remind them that in the five years they’ve been riding off and leaving him at home, he’s built a life. He has a business and an apprentice and a little house that he likes. He’s not the wide-eyed child he once was, dreaming of adventure. But then, neither are Steve and Bucky, if they really do mean that they’re going to get to California and settle down.

“Darlin’?”

The next morning, Peter arrives at the smithy to find the backdoor locked and the fire cold. He frowns; it’s not like Tony to still be home at this hour. He turns on his heel and heads to Tony’s house. It’s as dark as the smithy is though it doesn’t look like anything is out of place.

Tony is nowhere to be seen. He wonders for an instant if Tony spent the night at Rhodey’s, as he sometimes does when it’s been too long between Steve and Bucky’s visits (though Peter isn’t supposed to know anything about the outlaws). He turns to leave, planning on heading over to Rhodey’s to ask if he’s seen Tony this morning, only to catch a glimpse of something on the kitchen table, glinting in the early morning sunlight pouring in from the door.

Curious, he wanders over to find a single gold coin—and a letter addressed to him. Peter immediately pockets the coin and then opens the letter. It’s written in Tony’s messy scrawl and he reads it eagerly, hoping it’ll tell him where Tony’s gone.

Peter,

I hope you’ve spotted this. The coin is for you. Under the bed, there’s a pouch full of more coins, but those are for Happy. They should be enough to drag Happy out of the quiet life to finish your apprenticeship. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but it was time to move on.

If anyone asks where I’ve gone, tell them I’ve run away to California.

Tony

#alle writes #alle answers #stuckony #if you like please reblog #nsfk #ish

139 notes · View notes

imaginesupply · 4 years ago

Text

Homecoming - Chapter One

Chapter Two can be found here

(Gif’s not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies 

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This is pretty much a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter One starts after the cut. Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the new chapters.

Chapter One

Chapter warnings: Badly written smut (consensual), marriage awkwardness, alcohol consumption. Maybe OOC Sy, I don’t know. We never saw him being casual.

Sy checked his phone again as he waited for his bag by the baggage carousel. The airport was even busier than usual, it was taking ages and he was impatient to get out of there... and maybe even never set foot in an airport again for the rest of his life.

He read her text again, short and sweet. He sometimes called her that, short and sweet, just to tease her. Ada was considerably shorter than him and full of sugar, when she wanted to be, that was.

'I'm waiting by the gate for you, with a warm cinnabon :) So excited to see you again <3.'

Just then a notification popped up from Harper. It was a photo of the soldier at the airport, finally reunited with his wife and his two rugrats. It made Sy all the more excited to see Ada again, and then as if on cue, his camo bag appeared in the carousel and he groaned with relief.

He stood restless amidst the line, it seemed people in front of him were dragging their feet, but when they noticed his green beret uniform, most parted and let him through. Sy tipped his head gratefully.

His wife was there, just outside the gate. Sy spotted her instantly in the crowd of people. She was wearing a red dress under her open coat and her hair looked fresh out of the hairdresser. He caught himself grinning at the sight of her. Then, once she spotted him making his way over to her, she started waving her hand excitedly as if there was any way his eyes hadn't already landed on her. He wished he still had his phone in hand to capture this moment for all of eternity, but his memory would have to do, he decided before casting his arms open for his wife. Fuck, did he love her!

°°°

Ada had been biting her nails nervously for the past two hours. She had arrived at the airport way too early. The parking fee would hurt but she couldn't find it in herself to care at this point.

Three weeks ago, she had received a call informing her that her husband and part of his unit had been ambushed. There had been an explosion in some building they were scouting only God knows where.

Only a full week after that did she receive a call from Sy himself. He was coming home. For good, this time. They were sending him home early, a full eight months earlier than what he had originally negotiated with his superiors. She hadn't been prepared for the news. She had spent the days following the call asking herself whether she had heard him right, making sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her.

Now he was here, stopping right in front of her, his thick arms inviting her right in for a hug. Ada wouldn't have been able to resist the invitation even if she had wanted to. Within a second, she was enveloped in his embrace, her cheek pressed against his chest. She was overjoyed to feel his heartbeat again. Sy kisses the crown of her head before putting her down, his hands never leaving her lower back, his fingers big enough to reach the swell of her bum from there.

They pulled away a few inches to take each other in. His beard has grown a little long, but it was not enough to hide his apparent dimples as he smiled. He looked a little older too, she hadn't seen in seven months, except through a shitty quality facetime call once or twice. Her careful gaze spotted the new scar by his temple, it was the only visible physical evidence of the explosion he had been caught in. She dreaded what she might under his uniform.

Sy caught her eyes and she found herself blushing under his stare. It was always like that the first few hours when he was back, until she got used to his overwhelming presence again and to the fact that this handsome bear of a man was indeed her husband.

"You're looking good, darlin'," Sy grinned, making her spin for him. "I missed you."

Ada couldn’t resist his smile. "I missed you too, Sy." She confessed, handing him the still warm cinnamon roll in its paper bag.

He accepted the pastry with a smile and started eating it immediately but not before throwing his arm around her shoulders as they began making their way to the parking lot. Sy was eager to get her out of the crowd and have her just to him himself.

"So, what's the plan, darlin'?" Sy inquired with mischief to his voice, balling up the paper bag with his free hand and throwing it inside the trash can. "Did you book that hotel with the jacuzzi in the bedroom again?"

It had become a tradition of some sort between them. They would always spend his first night back at that hotel: they'd order some room service and eat in the jacuzzi. Though, usually, they would first end up on together on the bed.

Ada stopped suddenly in her tracks, making him still behind her. She smiled sheepishly. "Don't be mad," she started, his smile falling at once, "but your family is waiting for us in the parking lot. Your mom insisted that we celebrate your homecoming at the restaurant. Something about you missing Thanksgiving just by a couple days."

Sy groaned, thinking about the evening that now expected him. He'd been flying for God knows how many hours, all he wanted was a warm bath and Ada whichever way she'd let him have her, not a damn dinner party.

"I'm sorry, Sy."

He shook his head and leaned down to kiss her forehead again. "Don't worry, darlin'. I know it ain’t your fault."

As soon as they reached the open-air parking lot, Sy's nephew and niece start running up to him, having escaped their parents' grasp. His family was waiting for him with cheers and a 'welcome home, soldier' banner. Sy hated that kind of attention and she found it cringy as well, but she had been unable to stop his mother. Ada watched him hug the kids and lift them up into the air, making them laugh as she walked up to the machine to pay the fee.

Her hand trembled as she inserted the ticket into the slot, missing the opening a few times. She was happy - no, scratch that - she was ecstatic to have her husband back. It's just that, could you really say 'back' when there was never truly a 'before', a 'there'?

They had met when he was already deployed, but on a short leave back in Austin. They spent three weeks together, got married and he returned to Iraq. Since then, the longest stretch of time they had been together had been twenty days. Neither of them had ever gotten settled into married life and now he was 'back'. For good. Which was wonderful and foreign and overwhelming all at once.

Ada paid the fee and returned to join them, finding Sy hugging his mother. She smiled at the sight. She walked over to greet her sister-in-law and her husband, confirming that they'd meet up at the restaurant. With that, she went to the car, deciding to give Sy some more time with his family, and herself an occasion to take a few breaths and calm her buzzing heart.

"You didn't tell me my mom had gotten herself a boyfriend." Sy grumbled immediately as he sat down next to her in the car, putting on his seatbelt.

Ada turned on the engine and backed out of the spot. "I knew you wouldn't like it," she defended before casting a side glance at him. "Besides, I figured it wasn't my place to tell you."

Sy hummed noncommittally, removing his cap to rake his hand through his cropped hair.

"Though, as much as I don't exactly like your mother," Ada added quietly, "she's been on her own ever since your dad passed a couple years ago. With your father gone and you away, she must have felt lonely.”

°°°

Sy spent the rest of the drive mulling over her words in his head. The fuck was that supposed to mean? As soon as a woman feels lonely, she takes up a boyfriend?! Was Ada lonely too while he was away and… He wanted to ask if she was implying anything but then one look at her and he decided against it. Breathing out deeply, he forces himself to relax. He was just stressed out and on edge.

It was inevitable that things would have changed while he had been away. That was something he thought about frequently late at night when he got to be alone. Still, he hoped things hadn’t changed all too much. Ada still looked just as she had on their road trip to Vegas, focused on the road but leaning back on her seat, just one hand on the wheel with a grin on her lips. His wife loved driving.

"You got your nails done." Sy commented, already hoping the whole dinner thing would be over quickly so that he could go home with her.

Ada turned to him with a chuckle for a second, wriggling her graceful fingers and red painted nails, her wedding band reflecting the light. "I wanted to look pretty for you."

Sy huffed. "You always look pretty to me, Ada," he said and then watched her scoff.

"Or maybe, I just wanted to make sure I'd be able to scratch you up nicely," she wife winked.

Yeah, this dinner thing couldn't be over fast enough.

°°°

Ada saw him eat so much over dinner, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to be sick later. And, of course, the double serving of smoked ribs had to be accompanied with generous amounts of beer and whisky. She didn0t blame him, though. Out of curiosity, she once researched what they ate while on deployment and it looked anything but tasty. If she had been in his shoes, she'd have been eating her own weight in pizza and brownies right now.

It also didn’t help that his brother-in-law and his mom's new boyfriend, Phil from the hardware store, kept asking him about Baqubah and even touching on the subject of the explosion. It was obvious how uncomfortable the subject made him, his grip tightening around his knife and his jaw tensing up so tightly, she could imagine his teeth grinding.

So, Sy kept asking for refills, raising his glass, and giving them vague answers, but it seemed they didn't get the hint. At least, the subject changed when his sister interrupted the conversation to announce she was expecting again. A little girl.

Ada used the moments of cheer that followed to excuse herself from the table and go to the restroom. She was still somewhat nervous and her face was damp. She would have given anything for a glass of scotch at that moment but she was driving tonight.

Helen, Sy's mom appeared right behind her just as she was washing her hands. She hoped the woman would just disappear inside a stall but she wasn’t that lucky.

"Jack is back." Helen stated, arms crossed. A shiver ran through Ada's spine, damn she hated that woman. "For good."

Ada dried her hands with a paper towel, looking back at her mother-in-law through the mirror. "He is."

"Now's the time to prove yourself to this family and show us that Sy was right in marrying you.”

Before Ada could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, Helen finally disappeared inside a stall. Rolling her eyes, Ada went to leave the restrooms when Helen decides to add some more venom. "Maybe a good start would be calling him by his first name, as a wife would."

°°°

"When do you start at Camp Mabry?" Ada asked, looking away from the steering wheel to glance at him for a second. Sy looked exhausted, not that she could she blame him after three different flights and a seemingly endless dinner. They had finally called it a night once the kids had started getting fussy.

"January 15th." He replied. "But they want me to stop by before then to have a look around the base and sign the contract."

"You're going to boss the hell out of the new recruits," Ada laughed, getting him to lighten up and even chuckle.

"You'd be surprised to know I'm actually a fair and considerate captain," Sy defended himself.

Next to him, Ada huffed as she tried stiffing the bubble of laughter, trying not miss the right exit off the main road.

"I just value discipline and compliance a lot," he added, his tone growing teasing.

This time, she was unable to stop her laugh. "Believe me, I know you do."

The drive was a short one to their house in the suburbs and she was soon parking her in their driveaway.

Ada fumbled with the key as she tried opening the front door, nervousness setting back in as she felt Sy standing behind her, holding his duffel bag. He followed in quickly after her, once she had finally managed to open the door.

"Welcome home, captain!" Ada cheered in her silliest tone as he discarded his bag on the floor.

Then, before she could even react, Sy was on her. His arms lifted her up, his body caging hers against the wall before capturing her lips in the most ferocious kiss she could imagine.

Out of instinct, her legs locked around his waist and her hands dug into his shoulders, unwilling to let go of him now that he was finally there. Sy grinned against her lips, amused by her fervour, not that he felt any different.

He broke off the kiss as he pulled them away from the wall, freeing a hand to shrug her coat off her shoulders. "You ain't gonna need that, darlin'," he promised, throwing the coat in the direction of the kitchen, not caring where it landed.

Then his mouth latched on to her throat, forcing a delicious moan out of his wife as he carefully manoeuvred them upstairs, still steady on his feet despite the alcohol. Sy was almost surprised when he pushed open the door to their bedroom with his foot and it didn't squeak, but that thought was fleeting as Ada started rolling her hips against his. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the war, not the explosion or his guilt, only the woman in his arms.

Unceremoniously, he let her fall on the bed, the urgency now flowing through his blood keeping him from doing things the gentleman way. Ada didn't mind, giggling as she unzipped her dress and slid the red thing over her head, along with her bra. Apparently, she had decided to forego panties. Sy stood there, almost mesmerised as he watched her, suddenly not certain if he dared tainting her with his touch but Ada quickly made that decision for him as she got up on her knees.

"A little less staring and a little more undressing, captain," she purred with a smirk, her fingers determined as they made quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

"That's it, darlin'. You're in for it now," Sy roared, pulling her in for another furious kiss before pushing her back against the mattress, making her land on her back as he got undressed in record time. Fuck, was he hard.

"Open up for your captain." Sy ordered and Ada complied instantly, her legs falling open for him as she peered up at him, holding herself up on her elbows and worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "That's a good girl," he praised.

Without losing another second, Sy settled in between her legs, wrapping his strong arms around her thighs and parting them to their limits. He wanted to worship her body the way she deserved, show her exactly just how appreciative he was of her, how much he craved her, but it had been months and Sy was a starving man who had just been presented with the perfect meal.

"Fuck Sy!" Ada screamed out, her back arching off the bed the instant he licked her just where she craved him most. He chuckled against her, marvelling at how wet she already was for him.

She tried closing her legs around his head, rejoicing at the feeling of his beard rubbing against her sensitive skin and never wanting him to leave again, but his arms were too strong for her clenching thighs. She was left defenceless against his assault, with no choice but to obscenely moan her pleasure and let herself cum against his tongue as his thumb expertly massaged her clit.

The coil inside her snapped and her body tensed up before letting go just as suddenly, her now damp back falling back on the mattress. "Fuck, Sy." Ada breathed out, her chest heaving as she tried to reopen her eyes only to find her husband playfully gazing up at her, smirking with her arousal glistening on his beard. The sight alone almost made her cum again. "I'll never let you leave again!"

He smiled in response, placing a kiss on her lower stomach before crawling up her body. "I've no intention to, baby," he promised.

Ada caught a glimpse of his hard, flushed erection as his body slid over hers, realizing in her post-orgasmic haze that she was in for an even bigger treat now. She could taste herself in his mouth as they kissed, his hand slithering behind her back to seize her shoulder and hold her closer. Teasingly, he started rolling his hips, his hard clock rubbing against her slick cunt, coating himself with arousal before finally, he found his way inside her, burying his head next to hers in the pillow.

Ada whimpered as he did so, her eyes tearing up as his clock slid inside her. She had evidently grown unaccustomed to his girth and length in his absence. Sy paused immediately, his muscles tense as he looked at her with concern. “You okay?” She nodded in silence, wanting him to start moving but Sy looked unconvinced, using all his strength to keep still despite his desire to fuck her right into the mattress. Without a warning, Ada tightly wrapped her legs around his hips, making him go deeper. Sy let out a reverberating groan. “God, darlin’. I missed you.”

He started thrusting into her with such vigour, such determination it felt as if he was trying to bury himself so deep inside her, no one would ever be able to pry him away from her again. It did hurt, her cervix was getting battered with each of his hard movements but she found herself enjoying the pain because it was him; it was Sy and he was right there with her, back in her arms, and she could feel his heart beat beneath her fingertips as her hand gripped at his chest.

"Fuck, I'm... I’m," Ada gasped incoherently, her nails now scratching the skin of his back. Sy was sure there would be marks there in the morning which made him enjoy the sensation even more.

"I got you," he rasped. If possible, he pulled her even tighter to him, his pubic bone now rubbing against hers in that delicious way only he was able to do. Her slick walls were now contracting around him, her second orgasm impending. "Fuck," he groaned, his breath coming out in a stutter. "Are you...Can I...?"

Sy didn't have to word it, she knew what he meant. "Cum in me, Sy. Please," she almost begged.

Her words did it. His hips stuttered as he pushed in deep just when his orgasm washed over him, exploding inside her. His face contorted with pleasure and that sight alone had her fast tracking her fall over the figurative edge. He had his face buried on the crook of her neck, muffling his groans and moans against her skin as the dam gave way within her.

°°°

Sy grunted against his pillow, slowly waking up the following morning. He was convinced he was just rousing after a very nice dream and he was ready to toss his alarm clock across the room, furious at the object for interrupting his dream, that for once, had been a good one. With a startle, Sy realized that no blasting alarm had woken him up but the sunlight on his face. Opening his eyes, he felt almost as if on foreign ground. He was home.

As quietly as he could manage, Sy turned around in bed, seeking his wife only to find her side empty. Just at that moment, he heard cursing coming up from the kitchen and scoffed. He’d bet his life Ada was cracking eggs, something she hated.

Feeling rested and in a much more relaxed mood than the previous day, Sy got out of bed and started searching for a pair of boxer briefs so he could go join her downstairs when he caught a sniff of himself. Fuck, did he stink. How Ada hadn’t thrown him out of bed, he didn’t know.

Out of habit, Sy hurried to the en-suite bathroom, wanting to shower as fast as possible before realizing that this time around, it was different. He wasn’t going back, he didn’t have to rush, their time together wasn’t counted. With that in mind, Sy forced himself to take his time, enjoying the act of brushing his teeth in a bathroom that smelled nice and showering with warm water. Ada had purchased his usual brands of shower gel and toothpaste, he noticed, even putting a red bow around his brand-new toothbrush by the sink. Even though he initially wanted to take his time to enjoy it, Sy still ended up rushing as he dried himself with a blue fluffy towel he didn’t recognize from his previous stay. He didn’t bother putting on anything more than his boxer briefs before heading downstairs. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t keep them on for long either.

Sy walked into one of the best sights he had even seen, when he entered the kitchen. Ada was standing in front of the stove, rhythmically tapping the black spatula against her naked thigh as she focused on the eggs and bacon she was preparing. The thin negligee - or whatever she called it, he always forgot - barely covered her ass and that outfit alone was one of the reasons he never minded that she always cracked up the heat so high, he felt like he was back under the hot desert sun.

Silent and stealthy like a predator despite his stature, Sy sneaked up on her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling her startle before relaxing once she noticed it was him. She smelled heavenly, Sy thought, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Watcha got cooking, darlin'?"

"Obviously breakfast," she sassed, making him softly pinch her ass in response. Ada squealed and jumped up. "Good morning to you too, Sy," she said but not before slapping the handle of the spatula against his thigh. He decided to let it slide... for now.

"Morning darlin'," he answered, kissing the crown of her head before darting his fingers into the pan and picking up a piece of bacon. It was sizzling hot, but the taste was worth it. He had missed being home! Speaking of being home... "What do you say we take the food and coffee upstairs and have ourselves breakfast in bed?" His tone failed to hide his true intentions.

Ada scoffed, the back of her head rubbing on his hairy chest and she shook her head. "Nice try but I actually intend to feed you. Your mother will have my head if I let you go hungry."

It was Sy's turn to laugh, his hands now roaming her body as she leaned forward to turn off the stove, pressing her ass against his crotch and eliciting a husky groan from him. "I'm hungry enough to eat both breakfast and you, don't worry."

Ada turned around, a huge grin on her angelic face. "Alright, you win. What do you say, we have breakfast, we do the kinky and then go grocery shopping?"

Sy tried hiding his smile but it was a lost cause. He loved it when she talked like that. He loved her, point. "Yes, ma'am."

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader

330 notes · View notes

tanakavox · 4 years ago

Text

The screen runs again as shows the red coated Jaune standing around looking annoyed as a voice calls out to him.

"Hey look it's half demon Jaune again!" Nora cheered.

"...Half what? Coco deadpan.

"Jaune in this universe is the son of Ozpin,who's a demon who saved all of humanity. Cinder is like his twins or something." Yang quickly brought the others to speed.

"Teach is a demon?" Coco asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Wait who's the mom then?" Velvet asked, confused.

"That's….. A very good question. We didn't get an answer to that. Yang mused.

"I just wanna know who this person with the annoying voice was." Whitley muttered

"Another good question that we don't get answers to. Sorry."

"Thanks for destroying the lock for me, devil boy! And welcome to hell! Please accept my gift. Don't be humble, just take it. After all, we are buddies aren't we?" The voice the viewers recozinge as Jester as she cackles loudly.

A fountain of blood flows onto the statues which bring out blood bat-based demons called Blood-goyles flies toward Jaune and he cuts it in half with a casual swipe from his sword.

Jaune shakes his head in disappointment. "Well, isn't that special. To be honest, I'm expecting something a little better than this," Jaune then goes to dispatch them and leaves on his way to find Cinder.

The scene cuts to Jaune walking in front of a door with two statues and stopping when they began to start talking. Jaune doesn't look a bit shocked.

"Look brother, it's been ages, but we finally have company," one called Rudra said gleefully.

"I see that," The other is called Agni simply.

"We must entertain our guest."

"You're right. We have to be gracious hosts."

"Brother, what should we do?" Rudra asked.

"How do I know? We need to come up with something," Agni stated.

Jaune began to get impantice pacing back and forward and sighed.

"I don't blame him for getting impantice. These guys are annoying." Mercury stated. He was already starting not like these guys.

"Oh come on they weren't even talking!" Ruby pointed out glaring at Mercury.

"Still annoying."

Rudra took notice with this. "Brother, our guest is... sighing."

"SIGH? What is... SIGH?" Agni asked, a bit confused.

"Well a sigh is when -" Rudra was about to answer until he was cut off by their guest.

"Enough already!" Jaune said, finally snapping, "How long are you two gonna keep carrying on like this? In case you didn't get the hint, I'll spell it out. Your guest wants to go through. Got it."

"Our job here is to guard this door," Rudra said the statue was moving a bit.

"That's right! We can't let you pass," Agni added his piece.

(After Agni & Rudra battle)

"Wow, he took them out without much effort." Fiona said wide eyed.

"That kinda sums up this Jaune huh? He didn't have much trouble with the last guy either. Nora responded with a huge grin.

"He's gonna die when he gets to Cinder though. Emerald said with a smirk. "Remember what happened at the start. Nora turns to glare at her.

"Shut up!" She barked.

After their bodies were defeated in battle, both demon swords spun around in the air until they fell and got stuck on the ground in a crossed-blades position. They see Jaune walking towards the exit of the room, about to leave them behind.

"Wait!" Rudra cried out to Jaune.

Against his better thinking, Jaune turns around to acknowledge the two demon guards

"Yes, wait. We have been waiting for a long time," Agni said after his brother.

"Yes, a very long time," Rudra echoed.

"For someone stronger than us."

"Someone who can control us."

"My name is Agni," the red demon sword said.

"And my name is Rudra. You shall take us with you," The blue demon sword stated.

"We could be a great help to you!" Both brothers said as one.

Jaune took a moment to think about their offer. They were pretty strong together and seeing as how he's already let Cereberus tag along, he could use these two as Devil Arms as well. "Okay, but on one condition," He pressed.

"What is it?" Agni asked ecstatically.

"Name it!" Rudra sharing his brother's joy stated.

Jaune points to both brothers, "No talking!" While they were a strong force together, he would not deal with their constant chit-chat along the way.

"Thank god he said it." Mercury stated.

"Much as I hate to agree with you but yeah." Jaune piped up.

"Jaune!" Ruby cried, lightning punching him in the arm. Jaune raised his arms defensively

"I'm sorry Rubes, But they're really annoying.

"Fair enough!" Agni agreed to the blonde's terms.

"As you wish," Rudra echoed his agreement.

Jaune picks up the two swords and does a kata. The force of every swing of the two swords generated sharp winds and scorching flames. By the end, Jaune couldn't help but smile in satisfaction at how amazing these Devil Arms were and how strong they felt in his hands.

"... That was so cool." Ruby whispered with stars in her eyes.

"Impressive," The blue brother praised his new master.

Jaune flips the swords and bangs the two brother's heads together. "No talking," He repeated their agreement.

Neither Agni or Rudra said anything more, almost like they really were inanimate objects.

"Good," Jaune said in satisfaction, having peace and quiet again.

—

The scene changes to show the young crimsonette walk stealthily down a corridor with a gun in hand, the sounds of heavy steps closing in around her.

"Hey look! It's me! Ruby cheered. She didn't get to show up alot in this movie so far. But she started to get worried. It looked like she was about to get ambushed.

It's all of a sudden when a group of Pride Hell's attempt to ambush her. She's able to evade the swings of their scythe weapons thanks to her fast reflexes, allowing her to retrieve a second pistol from a holster. She shoots at two of the Hells and continues to fire in quick succession. One of the Hells thrusted the blunt pommel of their scythe in her direction, Ruby's able to dodge the strike by hopping on top of it and evade multiple swings directed at her in an expert show of her athletic ability. She continues to return fire to them as they continue to advance.

"WHOOO GO RUBY!" Yang cheered as she went to town on the demons.

Even when she gets cornered she has a plan. Ruby kicked two Hells back with her legs, a gift for each of them in the form of grenades. The explosion results in the Hells along with herself being propelled into the air. She doesn't give them a chance to recover as she continues to send bullets their way via cyclone of death. She finds footing on an embedded scythe in the wall, she fires at a nearby Hell and then uses the scythe as a high bar as a means to continue her attack on the rest of the Hells while performing many acts of peak acrobatic ability and gunfire. Eventually she finds herself upside down, her only support was her feet hooked around two embedded poles. The Hells take this opportunity to strike against Ruby together, they never seem to learn.

"Which version of Ruby seems very skilled,'' Weiss mused.

"You say that like you believe I'm not skilled now Ruby said smiling at Weiss. Weiss doesn't say anything as Ruby stares at her. She pouted at the former heiress. "I'm skilled Weiss!"

"Yes. Of Course Ruby." Weiss replies with a smirk.

Ruby turns to Jaune to get him on her side but stops when she noticed that Jaune crossed his legs tightly and was staring at the screen intently.

"Uh Jaune? Why did you cross your legs so tightly?"

Jaune turns to Ruby wide eyed and stutters out an answer. "Uh I-i just feel more comfortable like this!" No way he was gonna tell Ruby watching her go to town on demons was hot to him. Ruby stares at him for a few seconds and goes back to the movie.

Deciding it was time to bring out the big guns, Ruby draws out her trusty Crescent Rose and fires a missile at the ground beneath her. The explosion knocks back the Hells while propelling her into the air once more. Ruby lands onto the ground in a crouch position with no signs of harm throughout the ordeal. As she looks around, she releases a sigh of relief as the Hells were no longer a threat. She tugs her darling back on her shoulder and continues on, as she leaves the screen pans to an overhead shot to see that the charred remains of the ground resembling a '6.'

Ruby is now seen on a balcony of Temen-ni-gru, reloading her arsenal, sitting on a rock until she hears a voice come from behind her. Upon recognizing the voice she immediately pulls out one of her guns.

"Well, well... You've grown stronger," Raven said as she approached the young woman.

"Mom." Yang had a dark look on her face.

"What does she want with Ruby? Blake asks.

"If you shut your yap you may find out." Mercury said nonchalantly causing Blake to glare at him.

"Go to Hell," She raises her pistol directly towards Raven's face.

"You point a gun at me? Your own kin? Your dear Auntie?" Raven said as though she were truly shocked.

Ruby's face twists in rage, "The only family I ever had was my sister, and she's dead!"

"SHE KILLED ME?!" Yang yelled out in shock? The rest of her team and friends were in shock as well. Qrow couldn't believe it. Yang and Raven never really had a good relationship but he didn't think Raven would kill her own daughter.

Ruby shoots with her pistol four times, but finds that Raven has vanished. She draws out a SMG and aims both guns to her left and right in case Raven could get the jump on her. She scans around her surroundings for any signs of Raven only to find nothing. That only left one direction left uncheck... was above!

"You break my heart. After all, it was I who gave you your name. My darling niece!" Raven yells as she stares at Ruby while hanging upside down on the balcony roof.

Ruby was about to shoot when Raven's book dropped on her face blocking her vision. Raven takes this opportunity to get the jump on Ruby and throws her niece off the platform. Before she was out of Raven's sight, she felt her cheek get grazed by one of Ruby's bullets that she fired her way.

"That should have gone into her head!" Yang screamed, her eyes glowing red. Qrow couldn't help but agree with his niece.

Ruby continues falling Temen-ni-gru, that is until Jaune catches sight of her falling and proceeds to catch her by one of her boots. She looks at what stopped her fall and upon recognizing the boy in red, points both her guns at him.

Jaune looks down at the girl with a grin, pleased to see this interesting girl again. "Well, this is my kind of rain. No wonder the sky looks so funny today," He said while looking up at the cloudy sky.

"Getting bold ain't ya Bondie?" Qrow said, turning to Jaune who gave him an annoyed look.

"Yeah? And you want me to what Old man?" He snapped.

Qrow growled knowing he couldn't do anything.

"Let me go!" Ruby yelled.

"Don't say that stupid" Ruby yelled at the other version of herself.

Jaune looked at her with surprise, "Let you go? But it would be a waste if you ended up as just a pretty stain."

"Smooth Arc. Smooth." Coco teased as Jaune faces red at his alternate self boldness with his best friend.

Ruby having enough this guy's talk shoots him in his head. When the bullet makes contact with Jaune's face, it causes him to let go of the girl which results in her fall down again. This time however she's able to use the blade of Crescent Rose as a means to stop her fall. As she hangs off her weapon, she hears the sound of footst coming from the platform above.

"NO ME NO!" Ruby yelled out in horror at the fact she possibly killed her best friend.

"Huh look at that. He died earlier than I thought." Emerald laughed.

Jaune peers over the edge of the platform at the girl, sporting a bleeding bullet wound on his forehead and a miffed expression, "What the hell was that for? Here I am trying to help you and you show your thanks by shooting me?"

"Oh thanks goodness." Ruby sighed in relief.

"We shouldn't be too surprised. Getting stabbed several times with scythe only made him mad." Oscar pointed out.

Ruby, very confused with how he's even standing, responds by shooting him again.

The bullet once again makes contact, however, Jaune is able to react quickly enough to catch it between his teeth. After spitting the offending bullet out of his mouth he decides it would be in his best interest to ditch the girl, "Whatever, do as you please."

"God me! You just lost your chance at getting a friend!" Ruby said in a disapproving tone.

Ruby lowers her gun as she's finally able to pick up why she's been having a bad feeling about this guy, "So he's a demon too."

As he leaves, Jaune cleans off a bit of leftover blood from his face and wipes it on the wall. "I'm beginning to think I've got rotten luck with women," The line of fresh blood drips down the wall, creating the image of a '7.'

—

The scene changes to the very top of Temen-ni-gru, there stands a black haired woman in the rain, a ethereal full moon shining its light in the night sky, and the only sound that was present was the roaring winds in the air.

The silence would soon be broken as the sound of approaching footsteps began to come up the stairs. Jaune approaches the platform, finally making it to the top of the large tower that was Temen-ni-gru. After fighting multiple demons just to get here he was finally met with his gracious hostess, Cinder.

Cinder turned her head to address her guest, already knowing who it was, "...You showed up," She smiled.

Cinder sat forward in her seat. Ready to see herself destroy this weakening again.

Jaune walks up to her, while twirling Ivory in his hands. There was a smile on his face as he paced around the platform, "You sure know how to throw a party. No food, no drinks, and the only babe just left." Jaune lightheartedly pokes at his sister's very poor party preparation.

"My sincerest apology, brother. I was so eager to see you I couldn't concentrate on the preparations for the bash," Cinder replies with a warmth that was difficult to tell if it was genuine or not.

D-do they hate each other?" Oscar asks. "They seem pretty happy to see each other."

Jaune brushes it off continuing his pacing, "Whatever. At any rate, it's been a whole year since we last met. How about a kiss from your little brother? Or better yet, how about a kiss from this?"

Jaune immediately points Ivory directly at Cinder. The sound of lightning and thunder echoed throughout the dark sky, signaling the change in the atmosphere around the two siblings.

"So, this is what they call a heart warming family reunion eh…" Jaune questions as his face grinned, expressing that he was ready for a fight,

Cinder's eyes darkened, her facial expression becoming cold but determined, "You got that right."

Cinder opens up Yamato with her thumb, its blade gleaming in the moonlight.

"Take down, Fearless leader" Nora cheered.

"Heh. Come red. We both know how this is gonna end up."" Mercury said chuckling at her.

"I thought I told you to shut up?" Nora hissed.

—

Jaune and Cinder separated from each other, both breathing heavily from the battle, after fighting so intensely they took a moment to catch their breath. Their fight in the rain had lasted for some time, as evidenced by Cinder's hair being flat down, wet from all the rainwater.

Jaune is able to recover first so he takes Rebellion and starts charging at his sister, Rebellion's tip generating sparks as he drags it on the ground. Cinder recovers in time to evade his attempted strike, giving her the opportunity to parry with Yamato.

Jaune spins Rebellion with both hands then thrusted the sword towards Cinder, who then sidesteps the blade's path. She rotates Yamato to hold the katana backhanded, following up by knocking Jaune backwards with its kashira (pommel). Both of them quickly clashed their blades together, resulting in both of them being knocked back, Jaune having already off his feet is knocked the farthest back.

Jaune skits to one of the pillars standing on the platform, stopping his backwards momentum. He quickly draws out Ebony from her holster, and fires seven shots at his brunette sibling. The bullets are seen speeding towards Cinder who begins spinning Yamato in a quick rotating motion, deflecting three of the bullets while catching the remaining four that were originally aimed towards her.

Cinder places the caught bullets on the floor with Yamato in single file and then returns them to her blonde brother. Jaune sees the returning bullets coming towards him but he quickly lifts Rebellion over his head and is able to quickly slice through them, which then burst behind him.

"...That was fucking cool. Mercury stated and no one disagreed with him

Cinder points Yamato at him, her face expressing her frustration towards her brother, "Why do you refuse to gain power? The power of our father Ozma?"

"I thought you guys said that teacher was their dad?" Coco turned to everyone with a raised eyebrow.

"He is, that's just his real name." Blake said with a sigh. "It's a long story. Don't ask." Coco shrugs and goes back to the movie.

Jaune, after using Rebellion to help him stand, looks at Cinder as if she told him a bad joke, "Father? I don't have a father. I just don't like you, that's all."

Ozpin's heart ached hearing Jaune say that. He knew that they weren't his kids in his universe but the fact that any kids of his were fighting at all as well one of his sons rejecting him, hurted.

A moment of silence passes before the two siblings charge at each other once more, both of their swords clash against the other, while both Jaune and Cinder stare the other down. The spot where both Yamato and Rebellion met begins turning a bright orange, the generated sparks and heat being caused by the force behind both blades, as the two continue staring down the other. The whining of two metals being tested is heard, Jaune seemed to be exerting everything he had, while Cinder showed no apparent signs of exertion at all. The struggle is finally ended when Cinder strikes Rebellion away from her brother's grasp, the large sword spinning in the air until it strikes against the ground, timed perfectly as Cinder impales Jaune with Yamato.

Cinder smirks as she hears the cries of the blonde fools friends as her blade sinks into his stomach. Today was a good day. Two universes where she totally domanations. She turns to Jaune to see his reaction. To her disappointment the blonde didn't react much. Only had a stoic expression. Jaune knew he was gonna lose but didn't want to give the bitch the satisfaction of his disappointment.

His blood trickles down onto the floor and Yamato itself while Jaune grasps at the blade that was impaling his abdomen.

Cinder looks down at her impaled sibling, her face expressing neither joy or satisfaction in the act, only disappointment, "Foolishness, Jaune, foolishness. Might control everything. And without strength, you can't protect anything. Let alone yourself."

Cinder agreed with her counterpart but didn't really care on how she wasn't enjoying her other self with her impaling the fool.

"She... looks disappointed?" Mercury echoed Cinder's thoughts.

"Maybe they do love others? In some kinda weird way?" Ruby said, scratching her head in confusion.

Cinder forcibly removes Jaune from Yamato's blade then takes his amulet from him and leaves a slash on Jaune's sleeve. She looks at the amulet in her hand for a moment, fixes her hair back to its original shape, and starts to walk away but not before taking hold of Rebellion. When Jaune tries to get up, Cinder turns around and quickly impales him with his own sword.

A pan up shot shows Jaune as his blood begins pooling under him, Rebellion pinning his body to the floor.

"Do you finally have it?" Cinder turns around and there she sees Raven standing behind her, seeming to have just arrived.

"Yes. Now the spell Ozma cast will be broken," Cinder says to the scarred woman.

"Spell?" Velvet asked

"Ozpin in this universe sealed the demon world from the human alongside all of his power.

"And Cinder and Raven want to open the gate to the demon realm to get his power?" Yatshu finally speaks up.

Jaune lays on the platform unconscious, seeming like he is dead… until the skull on Rebellion changes form and the sword is launched into the air, the water rises behind Jaune as he charges ahead and tries to attack Cinder.

She quickly blocks Jaune's fist with Yamato, resulting in his hand being covered in blood as the blade sliced through it. Unlike before, Jaune's face shows no evidence of being in pain due to the injury, instead his face shows significant rage towards Cinder.

"I see, the devil inside you has awakened as well," Cinder said to him. This time showing a peaked interest.

"Holy shit Blondie doesn't that hurt?!" Fiona cried out wincing in pain just watching Jaune's hands sink into the blade.

Jaune forces his impaled arm through Yamato, his tissue healing at such an astonishing rate as once his hand is removed it shows no sign of damage or deformity. He grabs the blade once more, then uses his newfound strength to fling Cinder over his shoulder.

"Interesting. It seems like the boy's regen has increased incredibly."Salem mused on learning forward. "They seem more like my children than your Opsin." She smiles at him mocking but it dropped when Nora spoke.

"Probably because you are their mom."Nora replied nonchalantly while still looking at the movie.

Salem took pauses at this and took a closer look at Jaune in the movie and the one in the theater. She got a weird feeling from him, but she decided to push it to the back of her head and just decided the pink one was talking nonsense.

Cinder lands on her feet soon after, preparing to fight him once more before she is stopped by Raven's voice from behind her, "Wait. We should leave. For the moment we have all that we need."

A white aura surrounds Jaune as he walks towards them, his eyes dulled and his steps heavy as he slowly begins triggering the demon inside of him. It was at this time that Cinder and Raven walked away, jumping off the edge of Temen-ni-gru, letting him transform into his Devil Form for the very first time. After releasing an inhuman roar, Jaune falls to the ground unconscious, returning to his human form.

"Holy shit what was that?!" Ruby looked at Jaune in shock.

"Is that what Cinder meant when she said Jaune unlocked the devil inside of him? Because that is a badass looking devil man!" Mercury shouted, getting hyped up.

—

After some time has passed, Jaune awakens once more and gets up off of the ground. The rain having stopped results in many of the clouds to clear up, one of them showing a figure of an '8.' He rips the broken portion of the sleeve from his jacket, then picks up Rebellion. Jaune finds them gone, feeling defeated he slams his fist at the nearest pillar, which results in the top portion of the structure to explode. Jaune looks at what he's done and he discovers he has awakened newfound power, it surprisingly felt...good.

"Oh know that look." Yang had a knowing smile.

Next thing Jaune knows, he jumps off the top of Temen-ni-gru, beginning his pursuit to get his amulet back from his sister and that scarred woman. During his plummet he decides to test his new capabilities on incoming demons. The incoming Blood-goyles will do nicely.

He slays large quantities of the Blood-goes with extraordinary ease, all of his speed, strength, and agility had increased so much that he was like a blur to the normal eye. He throws Rebellion at a number of Blood-golyes, quickly impaling and to finish the job he fires Ebony at the swords pommel, increasing the speed of his sword so much that it reaches terminal velocity. Jaune chases after Rebellion until his outstretched arm is able to reach the same speed as his falling sword. Once he's able to grasp it, Jaune launches himself off of Temin-ni-grun at a horizontal angle.

"... I hate the fact that I've said that's badass to this guy more there once. Mercury muttered.

This new power felt amazing to him, he felt invincible. Powerful. Unstoppable…

That's when the giant Leviathan in the sky showed up and swallowed him whole.

Salem eyes widen at the sight of the giant whale. "Richard?!" she took a closer look and realized that it was not Richard and settled down/

—

The scene changes to a separate corridor of the tower, where both Cinder and Raven appear before an enormous locked door.

Raven is seen looking into her book, very focused on its contents, starts sharing her knowledge with Cinder, "People once cried out in fear of this tower. Temen-ni-gru, a foundation that brought out fear. Fear. Yes, fear. Can't you feel it? The rage and agonies of people. Those who are confined here... with their desires of evil being unfulfilled... It was all because Ozma slammed the door to the Demon World in their faces…"

Raven looks towards the gate as it begins to unlock its many safeguards. Once they undone, the doors opened, allowing the two to continue forward.

Raven before continuing on turns around to see if someone she knows followed them.

"What's wrong?" Cinder asked the distracted Raven.

"...Nothing," Raven replies, obviously lying to her about her true concerns.

"I hope Ruby comes and ends up shooting you in the head, you witch. Yang said seething with rage.

"Same here." Qrow growled in agreement.

Without another word being said, the two women begin making their way deeper into the tower of Temen-ni-gru.

—

As soon as Jaune finished destroying Leviathan's heart, the titanic beast let out a final bloodcurdling scream as it fell to the ground.

Ruby is seen somewhere outside of the tower continuing her search until she sees an enormous whale plummet to the ground. The force of the beast as it crashed down shook the very earth where she stood, its shock felt all across the tower and even by those in the lower levels. Even Cinder and Raven took note of the aftershock of the Leviathan, even if they dismissed it completely after a few seconds.

"Holy shit he just killed that Whale by himself." Coco looked on in wonder.

"Okay guys I'm blind. What the hell happened?" Fox asked, getting a bit annoyed.

"Oh sorry Fox! Uh Jaune killed a giant whale and is now covered in blood."

"Oh. That's really cool." Fox said simply.

The young crimsonette finds where the corpse of the demon landed and witnesses as its blood colored eye is being slashed as Jaune, having finally got out of the oversized whale that swallowed him. Although he did end up being covered head to toe in its blood, so it was a Pyrrhic victory.

"So, this is the next stage?" Jaune thought out loud, thinking he was by himself.

"Wait!" A voice called out behind him.

Jaune turns around to see that it was the same girl from before, and having recalled their last meeting, he had a sour feeling towards her, "If you're asking for a date, forget it. Because I made it a point not to go out with women who shoot me in the head." Emphasizing his point by pointing to a specific spot on his forehead, where he knows she shot him.

"That's a deal breaker most. You're a meanie for doing that Ruby." Nora teased the redhead. She sinks into her seat with a pout.

Ruby scoffed, "Date a demon? I'm not that desperate. Besides, I really don't care for guys who stink like blood."

Jaune quickly sniffs at his clothes, then double takes at how bad the Leviathan's blood reeked, "You're right."

That got a laugh out of most of the viewers. But Ruby shook her head a bit. She just didn't get it. A few years ago, She and Jaune were dating, but now they hate each other. It was weird and it made her feel odd. But she keeps watching.

The mood suddenly changed when both Jaune and Ruby pulled out their guns, however, they weren't aiming at each other. Soon enough, a swarm of Demons ambushed them, causing both of them to form an unofficial alliance to fight off all the various demons.

During the shootout between them and the Pride Hells the two moved back to back for a defensive advantage. Seeing as they had time to kill, Jaune thought he should get to know this mystery girl he had allied himself with, "So tell me, what's your name?"

"I don't have a name," the crimsonette quickly replied, not wanting to get buddy-buddy with a demon.

"Uh… But that Raven chick said she named you Ruby earlier." Coco pointed out.

Not dissuaded in the slightest, Jaune continues to ask questions, "Oh, then what should I call you?"

"I don't care. Whatever you want," Ruby plainly replies, she would rather be focused on killing these Hell Prides than getting distracted by chit-chat.

Jaune laughs as he jumps over a group of incoming demons, then turns back to call out to the crimsonette, "Whatever Lady. I'll leave this to you. Because I don't want to miss the party."

"Lady? That's the best you could come up with?" Yang looked unimpressive.

"More concerned that he just ditched Ruby." Blake said, crossing her arms.

"She did shoot him in the head. Might not want to deal with her," Weiss reminded her team to which Blake nods her head in agreement.

Ruby scoffed, "Who counted on you anyway?"

With the red coat demon gone, she continues fighting against the Hells. The screen shows one of her bullet shells that fell to the ground, the ammunition being a '9. millimeter'

—

Jaune enters a gothic structured room, with a stage and all. He was left wondering where the gatekeeper of this room was until a cauldron of bats emerged in the room. They all form into one shape, which happens to look like an extremely attractive redhead with deathly pale skin and crimson eyes, who'd hair acted as a covering for her bare upper body.

Jaune has to admit, as far as demons went for deceiving their prey, this was new. He liked new things.

Nevan looks upon this new guest with great interest and hunger, "Hmm, welcome sir. Is this your first time here?"

"Yeah it is. You'll be nice to me won't you?" Jaune asked her, playing along with her game.

Ruby's eyes dimmed as she turned to Jaune and muttered out "Filth." Which left the Blonde confused.

"What do I do?" He asked but Ruby didn't answer him. What should I do?!" He asked her again but still received no answer.

Nevan laughs sweetly at her guests request, one that was intended to lower his guard, "Of course I will. I'll treat you so nicely, you'll never want to leave."

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Jaune says before drawing Rebellion, making his point clear to his hostess that he wasn't here for that kind of fun.

Nevan, now knowing her guest was not a typical desire driven human, concedes to play with him for a little while. She walks towards her stage until she looks back at her blonde guest, "Then come on, Sugar."

—

Nevan falls back in defeat, or would have had Jaune not catch her in his left arm, "My, you're sweet."

Thinking she has him fooled, Nevan tries lunging at Jaune's throat before feeling her abdomen being penetrated by a bullet from Ivory.

Jaune laughs, "You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

"Good job Jaune." Ruby cheered with a wide smile which left him even more confused as she was just mad at him a few seconds ago.

Nevan also laughed, already knowing she was beaten, having already decided that it would be much easier on herself if she would surrender to him, "Alright. I'll help you. Your father was a handsome devil, but you're no slouch yourself."

"Salem blinked at the she-devil's comment on her ex's looks. And frankly she didn't appreciate it. She wanted to make sure Ozpin never knew happiness with another woman and thankfully her… possibable son killed her.

After giving up her physical form, Nevan transformed into the Devil Arm "Nevan"... an demonic electric guitar.

While performing an amazing death metal solo, Jaune showcases "Nevan's" unique ability as both a demonic guitar and an electrified scythe. The end of his act ending in a shower of fireworks and sparks.

Ruby let out a shriek at Jaune's new weapon. "It's not fair! I want an electric scythe guitar she whines."

"He plays better on the guitar than he did at beacon though." Weiss said with a teasing smirk at Jaune, who stuck his tongue out at her.

—

Meanwhile, Ruby continues to fight against the Hell Prides, utilizing her full arsenal on them while she simultaneously reloads all her weapons throughout the fight. From her pistol to her Crescent Rose.

When all the Hell Prides had been slain, a falling pistol from the sky is caught by the crimsonette, who smiled at its return.

"Welcome back!" Ruby said.

After packing all of her things, she makes her way towards the next entrance, continuing towards her end goal.

—

Raven and Cinder make their way to the final door to their destination, their end goal within their grasp.

Raven expresses excitement to Cinder, having finally been so close to their goal, "Soon we will reach the lair of judgement. Temen-ni-gru will finally regain its full function and lead us into the Demon World. The world where Ozma's power has been sealed. And the one who will lift the incantation is you, his own daughter. It must be fate."

Before they enter the chamber, Raven looks to check back the way they came, Cinder stops walking concerned of the woman's actions.

"Does that woman really bother you?" Cinder asked Raven.

Raven looked at the brunette quizzically, "What are you talking about?"

Looking back at the older woman, Cinder made her thoughts clear, "Why didn't you kill her? Perhaps, because she is your niece? Did some pesky auntie love get in your way?"

"... Why didn't she kill Ruby?" Yang realized Cinder brought up a good point. Raven was fine killing herself but didn't kill Ruby when she got the chance. It was odd.

Raven immediately became defensive in her body language and tone, "That is none of your-"

Raven is cut off when Cinder impales her in the abdomen, causing her to drop her book. Her blood trickles down onto the surface of the book, the drops that landed vaguely reminiscent of the number '10.'

While looking at the wounded Raven, Cinder decided it was time that she shared some of her own background knowledge, relating to Raven specifically, "To further your study of the black arts, you sacrificed your loving daughter, to become a devil as well. Knowing this I thought you'd be more useful to me, but I was wrong. No wonder your attainment of power is incomplete."

"... I'm not surprised my sister did this all in the search of power" Qrow muttered.

Cinder was incredibly giddy on getting her revenge on Raven, Even though it was technically her, it was close enough and she bathed in the scene with great glee.

Raven coughed up some of her blood, trickling from her mouth, before she exchanged an enraged glare towards Cinder, "What about you? You're an incomplete being as well. Both demon and human blood mingle in your veins. You dare judge me, even after you abandoned your own infant child-"

Cinder forcibly removes Yamato from Raven abdomen, her face showing genuine anger, "Shut up. Now that the final door is open, I have no use for you."

Without another word or glance, Cinder left Raven to lie at the entrance of the door as the old woman bleeds out. She has already come this far in her quest for power, she will not allow another minute pass while she is kept away from her birthright.

Everyone in the theater went dead silent at the bombshell Raven had just dropped. No one said a word and they all slowly turned toward Cinder with widen eyes with the expectation of Salem who had a mixture of anger and disappointment on her face. Cinder only look at the floor shaking as the words finally sinked in for herself.

"I… have a child?" She whispered to her in disbelief.

37 notes · View notes

quokkacore · 4 years ago

Text

son of wolves I [park chanyeol & byun baekhyun]

for @imsoba, who asked for an angsty, fluffy enemies to lovers au. merry christmas from your secret santa! written for the @exolssecretsanta gift exhange.

summary: your entire life, you've fought bravely to defend the walls of your home from the evil forest spirits of the spearwood trying to destroy it, alongside your family, friends, and your betrothed, baekhyun. until you're infected by the evil that resides in one of these spirits, and you run away from home, before it can spread to those around you. it's in your exile, wandering through the spearwood that you meet the wolf prince, a tall man of hardened eyes, few words, and a fiery temperament, raised by these spirits you've so grown to resent. it's here that you begin to question everything you've ever known, and wonder whether the evil was out here, in the forest, or inside the walls of a place you once called home.

pairings: hunter!baekhyun x reader, wolfprince!chanyeol x reader

genre: reverse princessmononoke!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fantasy epic, slow burn, war au, wolf!au

warnings for this chapter: violence, animal attacks, mild descriptions of gore, mild body horror(?), can you tell i did my best to avoid calling them tentacles but there are only so many times i can use the words “coils” and “tendrils”, language, subtle emotional manipulation, reader feels VERY violent urges but they’re not too descriptive, hypothermia maybe?, intentional starvation for purposes of wilderness survival, chanyeol is kind of aggressive and intimidating, SO MUCH worldbuilding im srry, VERY precarious (and probably inaccurate) medical procedures performed by the reader, chanyeol is a slob but hes literally feral so??

song recs: ateez - hala hala // stevie nicks - rooms on fire // the weeknd - until i bleed out // joe hisaishi - departure (to the west) // howard shore & billy boyd - the sacrifice of faramir + to the edge of night // jorja smith - i am

word count: 11.5k

a/n: first of all, i want to apologize a little bit to the person this was meant for. i meant to write this in two parts, but due to external factors, i’m going to have to split it into three. i hope you like it <3 second of all, i think i strayed a bit from the original source material, but i hope u guys can enjoy it regardless!! merry christmas to everyone, this is a gift to my followers as well.

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: the bite

It was supposed to be a routine patrol just outside the perimeter of Ironbend. You hadn’t been expecting the beasts and the rider to ambush the two of you in such a way. One moment you and Baekhyun were eyeing the treeline, the next the wolves were running up on you, and your reindeers were taking off, attempting to lead them away from the village.

“Get the others!” Baekhyun called to you, running between the trees, “I’ll lead them away from the wall!”

You nodded, directing the reindeer to veer away from the chase. You looked back, eyeing Baekhyun warily before he and his reindeer disappeared further into the trees, the sound of howling getting further and further away.

But the sound of large paws against the forest floor did not. Knowing what was coming, you turned, aiming the arrow you’d nocked earlier in your bow, and met eyes with the beast that had been chasing you.

Immediately, you knew that this beast was different. Its running pattern was erratic, as if it were tired but still euphoric, and you could see a wound on its neck, staining its fur a dark color. Not red, but almost black. You let the arrow fly at it, grazing its side, but it didn’t growl. Its sneer grew bigger, but no growl or snarl left its mouth. You faced frontwards again, watching as you came closer to the treeline, the wall of Ironbend coming into view.

“THE WOLVES!” You shouted towards the men on the parapets, standing guard, “GET THE RIDERS, THE WOLVES ARE—!”

The bite came both expectedly and unexpectedly, the wolf pouncing on you and knocking you off of your reindeer. You tumbled onto the ground, pinned down by the white wolf, feral and mad. The way your head fell against the ground, plus the cold snow left you disoriented and dizzy. Expectedly and unexpectedly, because in a fight like this, you always expect there to be injuries, maybe even casualties. But deep down, on a subconscious level, you never really expect it to be you.

Humans cling to hope, and sometimes end up having it pried from their cold, dead hands. No matter how hopeless things become, everyone always has a “maybe”, or a “what if”. And today, your “maybe” had turned sour. Out of nowhere, the white beast had locked its maw around your arm, and was thrashing you back and forth. You could feel an intense pain in your arm as its teeth broke your skin and attempted to rip off your limb. In your disorientation, you began to panic, your other arm trying to beat the animal off of you. You pulled at its fur, and threw punches, but what seemed to distract it enough was when you tugged at the wound, and managed to stick a few fingers inside, gripping whatever was in the wound.

The beast reared back as it let out a pained cry and then a ferocious snarl. You managed to scoot back at least a little bit, putting some distance between you and the wolf, and grabbed the bow, which you had dropped as you fell.

Blood was dripping down your marred arm, and in those seconds that seemed to pass like an eternity, you realized that the wolf’s saliva was, for some reason, a thick, semi translucent black color.

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die.

The scent of the beast’s rancid blood pierced your nose and the sound of other men shouting were the sensations you could feel around you, but not before you felt something inside of you, a deep, masculine voice echoing in your head.

Your hate infected me, the voice growled, now my hate will infect you, and you will die the same way I will: slowly, painfully and overtaken by rage.

Then the voice was ripped from your head, the same way the beast was ripped away from you as the other riders came to your rescue. You were picked up by one of them, thrown onto his reindeer behind him, and you gripped on tightly to his shirt with your uninjured arm as he turned his reindeer sharply to follow after the wolf, which was most likely returning to its pack, towards the sounds of shouting, howling, and gunshots.

“Are you okay?” He asked loudly, and you recognized the voice instantly.

“I think so,” You answered Jongdae over the wind, “I’m hurt pretty badly, but nothing Yixing can’t fix.”

With some difficulty, huffing in pain as you did so, you reached for another arrow, nocking it into your bow in preparation to let it fly at another wolf. Jongdae’s reindeer followed the wolf in its tracks, and stopped when you ran through the trees and stumbled across the fight. The wolves were incessant in their snarling and attempts to trample the riders and their reindeers, but your eyes ignored them despite the chaos, falling to Baekhyun, who was now off of his reindeer, his sword pulled out, dodging the rider’s dagger. You could see the anger on Baekhyun’s face, his chest heaving.

You couldn’t see the rider’s face. You never could whenever they attacked. All you knew was that he was significantly taller than Baekhyun, and that his hands were tanned and littered with scars. His face was covered by a red mask, back covered by the pelt of a white wolf, neck accented by a necklace of sharp teeth from different animals. His simple clothes were black, hiding the rest of his body. The man moved aggressively, grunting as he played the offense, repeatedly trying to stab your lover.

You sneered and let your arrow fly, catching him right in his right shoulder blade, piercing through his clothes. The man stopped, groaning in pain, back arching in pain. He was barely able to dodge Baekhyun, who had taken the hit as an opening for him to strike with his sword. The rider stepped back, letting out a loud whistle before getting onto the largest wolf. He whistled again, and the other wolves began to retreat, dodging the large metal bullets that rained down on them from the guns of the other soldiers.

When the silence settled, Baekhyun’s eyes settled on you, and then he was running towards you and Jongdae, eyes flashing in alarm as he saw the mangled flesh of your arm.

“What happened to you?” He asked, voice loud and concerned.

“The wolf that came after me knocked me off my reindeer,” You replied, suddenly feeling lightheaded as the adrenaline began to wear off, “Bit me pretty bad.”

He looked up at you, then to Jongdae.

“Get her to Yixing. Now.”

“The bite left her cursed.”

Murmurs broke out amongst the council of leaders, and you felt your eyes flutter shut at Yixing’s tone. Normally soft and gentle, now his tone was loud as he spoke to the ten members of the council, and you could tell he was angry.

“What do you mean cursed?” Your father, head of the council, asked.

“The beast was infected with hatred,” The healer explained, “Hatred of that kind stems from war and festers in ways we mortals cannot comprehend. As he’s a demigod, one of the sons of Selyne, it will most likely turn him into a demon.”

“One of our finest female warriors cursed by a descendant of that wretched she-wolf,” The head of war huffed, her eyes settled on the bandages of your injured arm. “How will the curse work on Y/N?”

“It will manifest as dark magic.” Yixing’s voice was low, and you felt Baekhyun’s hand tighten around your own uninjured one. “It will harm her and those around her when it does, and it will slowly spread through her body. It will kill her when it reaches her heart, or her brain—whichever it reaches first.”

You looked up. “But there has to be a cure,” You quipped, “I can’t die. I refuse to.”

“Y/N.” Yixing’s eyes were sympathetic. “There isn’t. I hate to say this to you, but this is a death sentence. By my estimates you have at best, a month and a half.”

“Can we at least slow it down, hyung?” Baekhyun asked, voice pained. Your eyes squeezed shut at the slight desperation in his voice. “Make it less painful?” “Make it less painful, maybe. Slow it down… I don’t think I can, Baek. I’m sorry.”

You watched him nod, jaw clenching, the hand atop yours clenching slightly. “There has to be something,” You insisted. “What about the story of the wounded warrior—”

“Y/N, that’s a myth.” Your father’s tone was both sympathetic at your insistence, but also angered by your refusal to accept the truth. “And besides, that myth originated centuries ago, before we took hold of our destinies and left The Spearwood to build Ironbend.”

“Do you really think the Pillars of the Forest—do you think Emyr, the proud fool that he is, would heal you as he did the wounded warrior, after three centuries of war against his kingdom? After all of the weapons we’ve created, all the soldiers of his we’ve gotten rid of, ”

“Emyr asked the warrior for a sacrifice, then. I could negotiate something with him, and—”

“And what? What if he asks to give up our weapons, to leave The Spearwood be after everything it’s done to us, so that we may be overrun? Y/N, you may be one of our finest warriors, and you may be my daughter, but I refuse to sacrifice one life over all of Ironbend.”

“Send me on my own, then, papa, but I can’t just—”

“Enough.” His tone was final, and you inhaled sharply as you attempted to control the shaking in your arms.

“You will stay here. And I promise we will do our best to make the rest of your life something for you to look fondly upon when you pass.”

“It’s bullshit,” You growled, blinking back tears as you sat on the bed in the cabin you shared with Baekhyun. “There’s a perfectly good possibility and they won’t even let me try.”

“Y/N, my love,” Baekhyun whispered, coming to kneel between your legs so he could cup your face, “It’s a suicide mission. Going into The Spearwood, of all places, in the dead of winter, to find those four gods and ask them to heal one of their enemies, I… you have to admit, it doesn’t sound logical. If the cold doesn’t kill you, then Selyne and her children certainly will.”

His hand came to rub at your cheek, nose nuzzling against yours, and you knew he was right.

In the beginning, when man was just another animal, the ancestors of Ironbend lived in The Spearwood, ruled over by the four Pillars of the Forest: Selyne, the wolf goddess, warden of the forest, Beval, the eagle god, keeper of the weather, Mirren, the bear goddess, guardian of families, and Emyr, the deer god, king of the gods, and ruler of the forest. Over time, humans became smarter: they realized they could build things with their hands that animals could not, and they grew proud enough to rally together and leave The Spearwood and the kingdom of the gods to build something permanent: Ironbend.

The forest exodus triggered a seemingly endless war, which had been going on for over three hundred years. For three hundred years, your ancestors had attempted to destroy the gods’ uncivilized way of life, to end Emyr’s tyranny and extend Ironbend across all of the Spearwood, so that it would finally be gone.

If the gods were as ruthless as they said, Emyr would never heal you when you were a part of the threat to their archaic way of life.

“Baek, I…” You whispered shakily, eyes fluttering shut. “I can’t die like this. I-I can’t. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. W-we were supposed to get married, and we were going to lead the council, and have children, and raise them to end the war, and then… Baekhyun, do you really want to give that up?”

“You think I want to give that up?” Baekhyun snapped, leaning away from you. “What, you think I want to watch you die a slow and painful death, and not do a thing about it? I—”

He caught himself when he saw the tears streaming down your face, and your injured arm shaking. You couldn’t explain the despair, the anger that washed over you, but you could see the injured skin warping and growing beneath the bandages. You felt the bandages tighten against your skin as it grew, and you grasped your injured forearm with your other hand to hold it back, because all you felt was the urge to hurt, and you wouldn’t live with yourself if you ended up hurting Baekhyun, the man who made you laugh and feel emotions you had never felt before, who had persisted to push himself up the class ladder because he wanted to be with you and help those around him.

Not him, not your Baek.

He stepped back cautiously as you took deep breaths, trying to ignore the sudden black liquid oozing slowly out from underneath the bandages, staining them dark and dirty. You began to count, and counted for an eternity, only stopping at 136 before you felt the urge dissipate, burrowing back beneath the skin it had attempted to break free from.

“Are you alright?” Baekhyun’s tone was cautious, and you opened your eyes to find that he was eyeing your arm warily. You nodded. “Better. I just… need to remain calm.”

He groaned and ran a hand over his face before pushing his hair back. “Shit, my love, I… I would march into that forest right now if I knew for sure that it would save you. But the truth of the matter is I don’t know, and neither do you, and chances are that it wouldn’t. No one has seen Emyr in a hundred years, and even if he showed himself to you, he would likely have you executed for treason.”

When you didn’t respond, his hands fell to yours, bringing them to his chest. You spread out your fingers, feeling the fabric of his cream drawstring shirt and the firm muscle beneath it.

Your eyes fell on the pendant he’d always worn: a small opal on a gold chain, which had been his father’s. Noticing your gaze, he reached behind his neck, unclasping it and placing it around your neck.

His eyes were desperate, voice breathless and slightly panicky. “Stay here, with me, Y/N. Where it’s warm, and y-you’re surrounded by people who love you, and we can be happy before you die. We can rush the wedding, I don’t care if it’s a big affair or not. If it means you spend the rest of your life with me, it would make me the happiest man in the world, and I promise I would make you feel loved until the end of your days.”

Your forehead fell against his, and his eyes fluttered shut. “I’m already on my knees, my love. Please don’t make me beg any further.”

“Baek…” You whispered, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “Hold me, please.”

He nodded, quickly making his way onto the bed, ready to console you, not despite what just happened but in spite of it—he knew you were just as frightened as he was, because he knew you like the back of his hand. The argument was forgotten, and suddenly you were resting on Baekhyun’s chest, listening to him hum a lullaby to you. You let your tears stain his shirt, and he pressed kisses to your hair between beats, until the soft melody lulled you to sleep, dreaming of nothing, basking in the warmth of the arms of your betrothed.

When you awoke, you found that Baekhyun had blown out the candle on your nightstand, because your room was now dark. He was asleep beneath you, snoring softly. He looked so relaxed now that he was resting. During most of the day, his face was pulled into a grim frown, as the council met to discuss serious strategies and the needs of the people of Ironbend.

He hadn't always been that way. Even now, occasionally bits and pieces of who he was when you had first fallen in love—the brightest, funniest boy you had ever met—shone through. He could still make you and your friends laugh until your stomachs ached, but now that you were all adults, and it was time to take the war from your parents' hands, all of you had grown more serious, and pushed aside the time to simply enjoy life and each other.

You were 11 when you met Baekhyun, himself 13. You met at the training academy in the town, meant to teach children the basics: how to read and do math, the history of Ironbend and the war, . He had been a year older, and wont to make everyone laugh.

He helped you with your sword fighting skills, and in return, you helped him with his archery skills. A steady friendship bloomed, despite the fact that you were the head councilman's daughter, and Baekhyun was the child of a woman who ran away when he was a baby to be with her lover, and the town drunk. Baekhyun was crafty, however, and as he grew into a young man, he used his wits, natural charm and skill to climb the ranks.

It also helped that he invented the first prototype for the shoulder guns.

He had always been good at making things, and his prototype for the shoulder guns, small cannons loaded with large iron bullets made from the metal extracted in the mines, were what began to give the town an upper hand against the ambushes the creatures of the forests made. And for him, it was what landed him in junior council, along with all of his other abilities.

You thought of Baekhyun, and the look in his eyes when the curse kicked in. The quake in his voice when he begged you to stay. How much it was hurting him to see you like this, to know you would die. Your hand drifted to the necklace he had placed around your neck, a silent promise.

What, you think I want to watch you die a slow and painful death, and not do a thing about it?

Except there was a thing to do about it.

The wounded warrior was a story your grandmother had told you as a child—everyone knew the story as a testament to Emyr’s cruelty. The wounded warrior had gone to the deer god as he began to die from an infected wound, and begged him for a cure, so he could live to see his children and his wife. And while Emyr took pity on him, he asked him for something in return: fifteen years of loyalty, of servitude.

True to his word, the warrior did as he asked—he tended to the god’s every whim and desire, for fifteen long, grueling years. Fifteen years that, for an immortal, passed by in the blink of an eye, but for a human, were, well… fifteen years. When the warrior finally returned home, he found his wife had died believing he had died after disappearing for so long, and his children, now grown, were resentful of having grown up without a father. The warrior lived a full life, to a ripe old age, but it was a lonely one, for he had no wife or children to take care of him or keep him company.

And finally, you thought of the rider, of the odd red and gold mask that haunted both your dreams and Baekhyun’s. There were no towns around for miles, not unless you passed through the mountains, in the opposite direction of the Spearwood, and no child in Ironbend had gone missing and remained unfound for over eighty years. The man looked too young and had moved with too much energy to be 90 years old.

Your puffy eyes fluttered shut, listening to Baekhyun’s steady heartbeat.

...And not do a thing about it?

Except there was something to do about it. And while your chances were slim, there was always a chance.

Slowly, you lifted yourself off of Baekhyun’s chest and sat next to him on the bed, admiring his features as he slept. The bridge of his round nose, the moles on his face, the apples of his cheeks.

Oh, how you would miss him.

Baekhyun was a pretty heavy sleeper, but you still took great care to dress quietly, pulling on a warm shirt, thick pants and a cloak, along with a pair of winter gloves. You grimaced pulling them on, as you used your injured hand, the skin swollen and irritated, pain prickling every time you flexed your fingers or your wrist. Your heart never ceased pounding.

Next, you grabbed a satchel and went to the kitchen, packing a loaf of bread, some jam, a few strips of dried meats, and some fruit. You could find water in the streams, you figured.

Quietly, you set your bow and quiver next to the satchel on the floor, and hurried to find some ink and a scroll of paper. As you looked, a glint of silver out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

It was one of Baekhyun’s many swords, still partially sheathed, propped up against the wall. Smaller, a bit more lightweight. He didn’t use it much precisely because of that—he preferred something heavier, that could bring down more force. You thought of the rider and his knife, and how you would most likely end up injured if he came close to you; a bow and arrow is only so good up close. You swallowed a lump in your throat, quietly picking it up. Glancing at the bedroom doorway, where you could still see Baekhyun asleep on the bed, dark hair tousled, you took a deep breath, before tying the sheath’s leather band around your waist, securing it tightly.

Blinking back tears, hands shaking, you wrote down a brief letter.

Baekhyun, my love,

Please forgive me for what I'm about to do. I can't sit here and die when I know there's at least a chance. Life will find a way. Love will find a way. I will find a way. I will do everything possible to find my way back to you, safe and sound. Don't look for me. It's dangerous enough as it is in The Spearwood, and now with the chance that I might hurt you as well… If these truly are my final days, I want you to remember as I am, and not as what the curse will turn me into.

You shine brighter than the stars, Baek. Please don't stop doing so, ever. That shine will lead me back to you even on the darkest of nights.

Forever yours,

Y/N

Tiptoeing, you set down the weathered paper on your side of the bed, before looking at Baekhyun one last time. Carefully, you leaned over him, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“No matter what happens, we’ll see each other again,” You whispered against his skin, “And after you're done yelling at me, I’ll kiss you the way you deserve.”

Escaping was an easy feat when you knew the standard night patrol route—even easier when you were the one who wrote them. Carrying all of your things, you made your way to the stables, the moon your only source of light.

There was no one in the stables, which made saddling up Ivan, your reindeer, easier. In the silence as you worked hastily, you began to doubt your actions. Go back, a voice whispered somewhere in the back of your mind, stay with your family, stay with Baekhyun. Hold him tight and don't let go until you die. Kiss him like it will free you from the curse, even though it won't. Be happy. Make them happy.

Your eyes drifted down to the bandage, which you had changed right before leaving, feeling the slight throb of your skin. You were reminded of the things that hung in the balance—or rather, imbalance. The unfairness of it all. Yes, life was unfair, but here you had a chance to take at least something back.

And so you didn’t go back. You continued to saddle up the reindeer, slinging the bag over its side, and finally, you left the stable, and quietly made your way towards one of the side gates. You knew the main gate was the one most heavily guarded, and that the side gates were generally more lax. Given the position of the moon in the sky, which was slowly being covered by clouds, you could also tell that the guards’ shift would be ending, and there would be a brief period where the gate was left unattended.

With baited breath, you waited, holding the large creature’s harness in your uninjured hand, watching from behind a corner as the guards stood at their posts. For about ten minutes, your heart pounding in your chest the entire time, you watched the parapets, and then turned to look at the alleyway you were hiding in. You did your best to hold your breath when you peeked around the corner, knowing that the condensation could give you away if they happened to look your way.

Finally, the two guards walked away, mumbling to each other as they did, and you took this as your cue. You led your reindeer to the gate, and pulled off the thick iron plank that locked the gate, careful to not make a noise.

When it was open, you hopped onto the reindeer, nudged him slightly, and he slowly walked into the treeline. You looked down at the snow, and hoped that the dark would hide the trail until it started to snow.

You rode on Ivan’s back for hours, until the darkness started to slowly fade. Somewhere during that time, it had started to snow. Now, the forest floor was covered with a fresh sheet of snow, that looked a shade of light blue rather than white, now during the twilight. During that span of time, as you rode on deeper and deeper into the forest, you realized the sheer magnitude of it. The stories the village elders had told you and the other children to keep away from the woods, and stay inside of the walls: that the servants of the gods were large creatures with sharp white teeth and long nasty claws, that the Spearwood was alive, and knew that humans had abandoned it, so it tricked travelers into going in circles—no matter how close the treeline seemed to be, you could walk for hours and never cross it because of the Spearwood’s magic, playing tricks on your eyes until you succumbed to the cold, or dehydration, or hunger.

Paranoia was trickling its way into your head, albeit slowly. As you stopped to let Ivan rest, you pulled out a piece of cured meat, chewing it until your jaw was sore as Ivan dug his hooves into the snow, only stopping when he found a patch of grass to chew on. You looked up at the sky, and then in all four directions. You knew that the mountains opposite the Spearwood were towards the north, and by going north you would eventually leave the forest and find Ironbend, but currently, with the snowfall and the clouds, you had no idea which way that was.

But you didn’t plan on returning until you knew for sure the gods would listen to you.

Apparently, the gods weren’t very keen on listening.

Onward you went for days, panic slowly kicking in as you realized that you had no way of actually knowing in which direction you were headed. You seemed to be riding Ivan in circles, and the silence of the forest, save for the sound of Ivan’s hooves against the snow, was beginning to drive you to madness. Every few hours you switched between walking on him and riding, taking quick breaks every time you decided to switch. The isolation was quickly becoming too much to handle.

You thought of your friends, of your family, of Baekhyun, of everything said that night before you left. You didn’t want to imagine what was happening back home, but you couldn’t help it, what with walking around all day and not having anything to do.

You knew that your parents must have been heartbroken, and that your friends would likely be losing their minds. But you knew that you were doing what felt right.

You had packed enough small snacks to last you about three weeks if you rationed correctly, but you felt as though you were constantly running on empty, never fully satisfied. You drank water every time you came past streams or snowmelts, because you didn’t know when you would find one again, cupping your hands together and drinking until you were practically full, fingers pained from the freezing water and your throat sore.

The falling snow would stop periodically, and then start up again. Not very heavy, but not precisely light either. Your face became perpetually cold, your fingers cramped harshly to the point when you would wince in pain when you needed to change your bandages.

The wound was getting worse. The curse was beginning to spread. Initially, while it had started at the bite mark in the middle of your forearm, it was now making its way to your elbow and wrist. The tissue seemed to be turning necrotic as well, secreting a sort of mucous substance that was black. The smell was bearable when you had the bandage on, but every time you took them off to change them your eyes watered and you had to hold back the urge to gag.

When night fell, you slept on Ivan, who was pretty comfortable in the cold, laying down in it and laying against the trees. You had never realized just how dark the world could be without lanterns to light your way, and your small oil lantern barely illuminated anything. It did well warming your hands though, which would cramp when they felt the heat.

Worst of all, the deeper you went into the forest, the more it felt like you were being watched. Which was odd, because you saw no animals. None at all, which only served to put you on edge more.

The first two days it seemed fine, but after that, it changed. Now that you knew that you were well and truly on your own, the crisp winter air felt tense. Even Ivan became a bit skittish, and you felt bad for bringing your innocent reindeer into such a stressful situation. You were on edge all hours of the day now, eyes darting from side to side always, ears straining as you listened for something, anything. It was as if the whole forest was holding its breath, waiting to release its wrath on you.

Three more days passed before it finally did.

They came when you came across a lake in the middle of the afternoon, seemingly unfrozen. You got off of Ivan, an odd sensation pooling in your gut as you approached the crystal clear body of water. Oddly enough, you felt at peace, and for the first time in days, the striking silence was comforting. Now, instead of feeling like the forest was holding its breath anxiously, almost angrily, it felt as if it was holding its breath in anticipation.

The water was clear as day and seemed to span for miles. Trees grew out of the depths, and in the center, a small island emerged out of it. When you focused on the island, you felt your eyes widen—there was no snow on it at all. Quite the contrary, actually. It was a lush, beautiful green, with a blossoming tree smack in the middle of it. For such a small island, you were certain it was the brightest green you’d ever seen.

Your dry throat almost burned in anticipation as you kneeled. At this point, it had been about a day since you had last come across water, and your head was starting to ache. When you dipped your fingers in, you gasped. The water wasn’t freezing like it had been in the other streams you came across, nor was it cold. It was tepid, bordering on lukewarm. It felt kind, it felt welcoming, and while the setting lured you into a sense of security, you couldn’t help but feel as if this was wrong, because it was a lake, in a dangerous forest. It couldn’t welcome you, not at all.

That snapped you out of your trance, and you turned just in time to face the rider as he tackled you to the ground, pinning you down against the snow, the sudden cold causing your back to arch. You were vaguely aware of Ivan being startled, and the sound of growling somewhere off to your left, but you were more preoccupied by the red mask hovering above you, and the dagger about to come down on your face. You grabbed the man by his wrists, arms straining with effort as your injured arm flared in pain, wrenching a guttural cry from your lips.

You pulled him forward, causing him to lose his balance and topple next to you. You took your chance, straddling his chest and knocking the dagger out of his hand with a kick. You pinned his arms down, before pulling off the mask swiftly, sneering at him.

But you stopped when you saw his face.

Somehow, you found yourself entranced; for his features were contorted into rage and pain but you had never seen such a beautiful person. His eyes were large and round, a deep dark brown. His plump lips were curled into a harsh sneer. He had painted three long triangles across his face with what appeared to be dried blood: one below each of his eyes, the third one in the middle of his forehead, ending beneath his eyebrows.

His large ears, hidden beneath black, shaggy hair, gave him an elfish look. He was wearing large, white, circular earrings.. Beneath you, you could tell he was pure muscle, large and beefy to the point where it left you reeling because, oh, gods, how can one man be so big?

He took the chance and flipped you over, a groan leaving your throat when your head hit the ground hard, but saw an opening quickly and lifted your leg to knee him in the groin. He toppled over, groaning in pain, and for one final time, you found the roles reversed. On top of him, you unsheathed Baekhyun’s sword, ready to subdue the rider. You pressed the blade to his neck, poising yourself to speak—

When one of the wolves grabbed you by the collar of your cloak, dragging you away from him. The wolf stilled even though you continued to struggle against it. You could feel your injured arm bleeding beneath the bandages, and the subtle tremors riding throughout it as you watched the rider stumble to his knees, picking up the sword, and crawling towards you.

He did the same you had done and pressed the blade to your neck, breath heaving from his chest, air puffing into the cold. If he had been angry before, now he was furious, and while a small side of you felt the urge to cower back in fear, you could feel one side of your body heating up slowly, a sensation you hadn’t felt in over a week slowly making its way back into your system.

“Why are you here?” His deep, menacing tone didn’t sound like much of a question, but rather an accusation.

“Take me to Emyr,” You demanded immediately. “I need to speak with him.”

He blinked. For a second, he seemed taken aback, almost offended. But then his features hardened again, and he pressed the iron even further into your neck. It didn’t break the skin but you felt a sting against your windpipe, grimacing at the sensation. Your fingers curled into fists, your entire body trembling now as you felt something moving underneath the bandages, beneath your very flesh.

“Don’t tell me what to do, human,” He spat, “This is not your forest.”

The wolf behind you growled, and you felt it one last time: the urge to hurt, the urge to kill, a feeling of absolute hatred. This time, as opposed to the first time, you didn’t hold it in, and you didn’t count. When the black goo oozed from your skin, turning the air rancid, you didn’t gag, but rather embraced it.

And a split second later, just as the man had lowered his gaze to where the smell was coming from, his eyes widening at the bandages stained black, it was too late.

This being only the second time you had felt it, and this being the first time you didn’t restrain it, you weren’t fully sure what you were expecting. But you most certainly weren’t expecting your arm to bend into a shape it wasn’t supposed to bend into, in a direction it wasn’t supposed to go. And you definitely weren’t expecting black, slimy tendrils to break your skin, pushing the man away with so much force that his back pushed itself into a tree. He yelled out in pain, clutching at his right shoulder.

The violent coils did the same to the wolf, pushing it off to the side. And while momentarily, you rejoiced in the lack of restraint, it was taken over almost immediately by panic, because you just didn’t know how to make it stop. What frightened you even more was that a part of you didn’t want it to stop. As the tendrils flailed angrily, attempting to reach the man and the wolves as well, you felt the need to let it consume you, and then let it consume the man, and the wolves, and eventually, the entire forest. You wanted them dead, gone, burned to the ground, because none of this would have happened had it been for this disgusting fucking forest.

But you knew that wasn’t the way.

Fury coursed through your veins, and your eyesight blurred, quite literally blinded by anger. Clinging to your logic, you pushed yourself onto your front, pressing all of your weight onto the monstrosity that had once been your arm. The adrenaline had stopped you from feeling it before, but now, as you pressed your mangled arm into the ground, you could feel how broken it was, how the skin ached where the coils had broken through. You cried out in pain, in anger, in sheer terror, praying for it to stop. But it simply wouldn’t, and you wondered if you had come all this way to die because you had pushed the curse too much.

Your mind went to Baekhyun as you screamed, of the way his eyes sparkled when the sunlight filtered in through the window in the mornings, when you woke up next to him. You started to believe you would never see them again. How you had broken his trust for an irrational decision you had made because of your stubbornness and pride, and how now you would never see the man you loved again, all because you believed you were right when you were so very, very wrong.

But somehow, the thought of him grounded you, and you felt the curse weaken. Still, it was something, and you squeezed your eyes shut, sobbing as you conjured up mental images of Baekhyun making you laugh, and recalled the sensation of his lips softly kissing yours. You remembered the time he had first held your hand, at fourteen, right after an intense sparring session, and how at fifteen, you had been the one to kiss him, even though he was the one who asked you, because he was too nervous and unsure of what to do.

The black appendages finally retreated back beneath your skin when you remembered how he had held you that last night before you fell asleep, and only when your free hand found its way to the pendant around your neck did your bones snap forcefully back into place. You were left hyperventilating, struggling to catch your breath as you buried your face into the snow, attempting to hide your weakness from your enemies. You heard footsteps crunching in the snow, coming closer and closer, but they froze when another rush of footsteps came from another direction.

Even though you weren’t looking, you knew it was a large party. There was simply too much thumping for it to be one person… or whatever they were. All sound stopped, save for your panting, before you heard scrambling, and you lifted your gaze in time to watch the man drop to one knee, bowing his head in submission.

“My king,” He murmured, and you turned your head ever so slightly to the direction in which he was leaning. Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears, and your teary eyes widened as you saw what you saw.

The giant deer walked poised mere feet away from you commanded a presence over all of the other animals that had just arrived with him. You saw other deer, more reindeer, foxes, wolves, bears. In the trees all kinds of birds were perched, an eagle resting on a branch almost directly above the large creature.

Its antlers were large, larger than you had ever seen, branching out in all directions, almost forming a sort of crown. When it took a step forward, you watched in awe as flowers and grass began to bloom where he stepped, peeking out from beneath the snow.

Emyr, you realized with a chill, the deer god. King of the gods, ruler of the forest.

So, the god rumbled, without truly speaking, voice echoing through your mind, what is the meaning of all of this?

Come to find out, Emyr wasn’t the only spirit you were in the presence of. Your weapons were confiscated. As the wolf dragged your body—weak from what just happened—through the snow, you realized that the four Pillars of the Forest were all around you. Emyr was leading the animals ahead of you, but the man walked next to the wolf as it dragged you, and next to him, walked the other wolves. The biggest one eyed you with burning distrust, and wisdom beyond your years, and when you locked eyes with her, something within you knew that this was Selyne, warden of the forest and goddess of the hunt. She growled softly, and the man’s eyes snapped to her, ready to listen to what she had to say.

Disgusting, she growled, the nerve you have, little girl, to march all the way into this forest and injure my sons even more than you already have. I should rip your throat out right now—

Selyne. A giant brown bear lumbered up next to her, speaking gently but cautiously, she came here for a reason. The least we could do is listen before you do so, sister.

Your eyes widened, realizing this was Mirren, the bear goddess of family, matron of the forest. The wolf goddess let out something akin to a scoff, and before they could continue their discussion, Emyr stopped at a clearing not far off from the lake, where it seemed winter hadn’t touched down, grass green beneath you. The sun shone through a hole in the clouds, warming up the atmosphere, and your body shivered as you felt its heat pour over your body. In the center of the clearing, a large rock had three ledges, and a hole in the very bottom.

The Pillars of the Forest settled into the great stone. Mirren walked into the hole, Selyne hopped onto the lowest ledge, Emyr onto the middle ledge. Moments later, the eagle you had seen resting above Emyr’s head earlier flew onto the highest ledge, and you realized that this was Beval, the eagle god.

The animals around you chittered anxiously. The wolf set you down onto your knees, but did not step back. The rider stepped forward, however. He had picked up his dagger after you had been dragged away by the brown wolf, and now he held it forward to your neck once more. A silent threat.

Silence, Emyr said, and the animals obeyed. You could hear a pin drop.

State your name, child, the bear ordered, and you cleared your throat.

“Y/N,” You answered, voice raspy and gruff after not having spoken, “Y/N L/N.”

State your purpose in this forest. Selyne’s anger was barely contained, you could tell, but you refused to back down. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, and flexed your free arm.

“I was cursed, great goddess,” You stated, “Cursed by one of your sons. I came to plead forgiveness, and ask to be healed.”

Forgiveness? Beval huffed, Healed? After everything your people have done to this forest? Burning your fires, taking our resources, and repeatedly trying to destroy our homes?

You looked down, before meeting the eagle’s strict gaze again. “I understand, my lord, that your kind and mine have been at war for hundreds of years. But I don’t wish to bring any of you harm, not right now into—”

Not now that you need us, Emyr deduced, and you bit your lip.

“I don’t intend to use you for your powers, great king. I offer my service in return.”

If you don’t wish to harm us, why attack my son? Your eyes turned to the wolf goddess, trying to think of how to answer without angering her further. How do we know you’re even telling the truth?

“I was surprised,” You said after a few seconds of mulling over your answer, “His ambush caused me to panic, and defend myself. I understand why he’d do so if he didn’t know my intentions.”

“Even knowing your intentions, I’d have done it,” The man grumbled, “You’re a fool.”

You glared at him, but didn’t retaliate. You didn’t need to make yourself look worse.

What is this curse you speak of, Y/N? Mirren asked, And what do you mean it was one of Selyne’s sons who cursed you?

You told the story, choosing your words cautiously. Describing the attack, you watched as Selyne’s ears picked up, and she sat up straight, lifting her head. You described the tendrils, the black substance that secreted from your arm, the anger and hatred you felt when it controlled you. And you described remembering the story of the wounded warrior, how the curiosity drove you to leave home and wander for days until you came here.

Ah, the warrior, Emyr murmured warmly, Doyoung. What a fine young man. Of course, the circumstances were different then. His kind—your kind—was still a part of this kingdom, and he came to me looking to cheat death when he was wounded while he defended the Spearwood.

“I understand, great king,” You answered, “But my plea still stands. Free me from this curse, and I will work as the warrior did.”

Resilient, determined. Mirren sounded amused. She’s not going to give up, brother.

And what after you finish your years of service? Obviously, Selyne couldn’t be swayed, You return to your little Irontown, and continue to plot our downfall?

“Ironbend, and no, great goddess. You see, I am the leader’s only daughter. Next in line to inherit his place.”

You had your trump card, you realized, as the four gods took notice, all four of them exchanging glances, leaning forward. You could work around the original terms.

"My kind are tired of this war," You explained, growing more and more confident, "As I expect your kind are as well. It's all I've known, all my father's known, and all his father has known. If I can offer my people a stop to this war, I am willing to negotiate a truce of some sort.”

A truce… Beval mused, What are your conditions?

“I can’t stay as long as the warrior did. They’ll move on from me and pass my claim to the next person in line. Let me go back as soon as I am healed, and when I take my father’s place, I shall return, and we can negotiate a truce.”

Let you go, as soon as you are healed… The deer god repeated. I see what you are trying to do, girl. Don’t think you can fool a god.

“No, great king, I don’t intend to—”

I am thousands of years old. You think you can fool me? My terms for healing are simple, service and loyalty to my kingdom. You are neither loyal to my kingdom, nor are you willing to serve me.

You forced yourself to take deep breaths, attempting to remain calm. This had come so close to the way you had wanted it to.

You are too proud and too stubborn. You think that your status will help you now. No. I will heal not heal you… but you will remain in this forest. Learn a thing or two, and maybe then we can negotiate this again.

"Stay in the forest? I… For how long? My healer told me I only had a month and a half to live. I—"

For as long as is needed. You do this on my terms, or not at all. If you wish to go, then do so at any moment. The war will continue and you will still be cursed. If you wish to be healed, you will stay until you earn your freedom from this curse.

You swallowed a growing lump in your throat, meeting the god's eyes. "Very well, great king. I accept your terms."

Very well... But you will not serve me. You will serve Selyne and her sons.

Your eyes widened, darting nervous to the white wolf. She looked displeased with the situation, but said nothing.

He's doing this on purpose, you thought, he knows Selyne wants me dead so he's making it harder for me.

Selyne spoke again. Serve me? Well, then. My sons will work with you. Her eyes looked at the wolf behind you and at the rider. As punishment.

The wolf behind you huffed, and the rider tensed. "Mother, I—"

Quiet, both of you. My orders were simple. You were forbidden from leaving the inner circle of the forest without me, and forbidden from instigating the humans. You did both. You could have been killed, or injured as your brother is now. You deliberately disobeyed me and now because of your foolish actions, we have a human who has seen the inner circle, and knows where the most important part of the forest is.

As insolent as she is, she has come for a purpose. She is to fulfill that purpose, and you will help her do so. Am I understood?

"Mother, she's—"

Chanyeol, the she-wolf growled, don't test me.

Chanyeol. So that was his name.

The princes of the forest, working with a human, Mirren said, this should be interesting.

You could tell that Chanyeol was not pleased with the situation. The other wolves of his pack as well. After the meeting was adjourned, and the other animals dispersed, Chanyeol pushed you to your knees, and he growled at you, "Follow me."

You obeyed wordlessly, taking note of his temperament. You walked aimlessly, for about twenty minutes. Surprisingly, Ivan, ever faithful, walked behind you, but you could sense some apprehension from him. Your eyes looked at Chanyeol's back, covered by the pelt of a white wolf, serving the same purpose as your cloak.

Your cloak, which had been dragged through the snow, and was now wet. You did your best to hide your shivering. You could deal with that later.

To distract yourself, you let your eyes stray to the wolves. There were three of them, all smaller than Selyne but bigger than the average wolf. One, the brown wolf who had dragged you along. The second one, black, the third one a classic timber gray.

You realized that the white wolf who had bitten you wasn't there.

"Where's the white one?" You asked, voice quiet and curious. Chanyeol and the three wolves stopped walking, and turned to look at you.

"Resting," Chanyeol answered. You nodded, not answering, and they continued on, trailing behind them. You walked a little longer until you stumbled across a cave. Their den, you realized. You stopped, and so did Ivan behind you. You watched as Chanyeol and the other three wolves made their way into the den, but you couldn’t find the courage to enter. You almost felt as if you were trespassing.

You turned to your reindeer, skittish and eyeing the den, and walked towards him, caressing the side of his head. “You’ll be okay, big guy,” You murmured, “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Your stomach rumbled, and you sighed softly, pulling out your loaf of bread and the little remaining jam there was.

It was a miracle you’d managed to make the bread last this long, you mused to yourself as you spread the jam onto it.

“What is that?”

You jumped, letting out a soft squeak. You turned to Chanyeol, who had creeped up on you while his brothers remained in the den. His face remained stoic and bordering on annoyed. “Stop fucking doing that,” You snapped, “It’s bread and jam.”

He tilted his head, and you blinked. “Do… I’m guessing that isn’t a thing here?”

Chanyeol shook his head, his earrings swinging as he did so. You pursed your lips, before breaking the slice in half. Slowly, you offered him one. Eyeing it with curiosity, and slight disdain, he grabbed his half. Then his dark gaze met yours. “You first.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“This. You eat it first.”

Raising your eyebrows, you wondered if he thought it was poisoned. As if you would be stupid enough to poison the son of the goddess who hated you most, in front of all of his brothers. “Fine,” You huffed, and took a bite, eyes widening and shaking your head at him challengingly. He narrowed his eyes at you, studying your appearance.

His eyes stopped for a moment when they landed on Baekhyun’s necklace. But a second later, he looked back up at you, and took a bite once he saw you swallow, before making his way back to the den. Shivering, you finished your jam before taking over your wet cloak. It was even heavier now that it was wet.

Here, in what the gods called the inner circle of The Spearwood, it wasn’t as cold, so you hung your cloak over a low hanging branch and hoped it would dry soon. Now, you were unsure what to do. Chanyeol had gone to lay down with the wolves, presumably, and you stood awkwardly as you were left unsure what to do. You were tired after everything that had happened in the past hour or so—the attack, your meeting with the gods, now this—but you weren’t sure where you would sleep for now. You weren’t sure if you were welcomed in the den.

So you made your way over to a rock opposite the den, sitting on it and resting your head against a tree stump growing right next to it. You thought over everything that had happened, but mainly, how you had handled the curse. Your hand gripped the opal with your free hand, staring off into the trees.

The curse is fueled by hatred, you surmised, love is what will ground you.

You wondered what Baekhyun was doing right now, as you watched the forest grow darker slowly. For a horrifying thought, you wondered what could have happened to him that night if you hadn’t managed to control yourself. You quickly pushed it away, not willing to get caught up on what could have happened, but didn’t Your eyes grew heavier and heavier as you thought of home, and beneath your eyelids, the images danced so vividly…

“Wake up.” The voice was gruff, calloused hands shaking you haphazardly. You furrowed your eyebrows, humming softly as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. It had grown colder, and you found that you actually had managed to fall asleep. The sky had finally cleared up, the moon high up in the sky.

“What’s going on?” You asked, rubbing your eyes, trying to ignore the pain in your lower back. You looked up at Chanyeol, who had pulled his mask back onto his face.

“We’re patrolling the border between the inner circle and the outer one. You’re coming with us.” His voice was muffled from behind the mask.

“Oh,” You answered, “Okay.”

You stood, arching your back to stretch out the kinks. The other wolves were standing behind Chanyeol, and he pointed at each one.

“Junmyeon,” He said at the brown wolf.

“Kyungsoo.” The black wolf.

“Jongin.” The gray wolf.

You nodded at all of them awkwardly, unsure how to address them. They eyed you with disdain, Kyungsoo pulling off the first ever eye roll you’d seen on a wolf. Junmyeon huffed at him, and Chanyeol shook his head. “Whatever,” He grumbled, “Let’s go.”

The night was rough. Ivan was asleep, so all you had were your feet to trudge through the snow. For hours, you walked through trees and over rocks.

You were trailing through the snow with Chanyeol, having pulled on your cloak again. He was riding Junmyeon, who was walking slower than the others. The brown wolf seemed to be the most gentle of the three—four? You had yet to see the fourth—wolves, watching you with more indifference than dislike.

Kyungsoo and Jongin trailed ahead, seemingly content ignoring you.

“You do this every night?” You asked Chanyeol. He nodded. “Our mother is the warden of the Spearwood. It’s only natural that we take after her.”

You nodded in understanding. “Will I be coming with you every—”

“Yes. Stop talking.” His head turned to face forward again, back on alert.

The night was incredibly awkward and tense. You were unsure if the tension was due to the alertness of the wolves on patrol or because of you.

A few minutes later, you spoke again. “Will I meet your other brother?”

Everyone stopped, slowly turning to face you. The three wolves’ eyes were narrowed at you, and you immediately knew that you had said the wrong thing. Kyungsoo took a step forward with a growl, but Junmyeon growled back at him, and he backed off.

“He’s injured.” Chanyeol’s voice was clipped. “He was injured by people like you with those—those things.”

“Why can’t Emyr heal him?” You asked, tilting your head. “If he’s powerful enough to heal me, then why can’t he heal—”

“Because we don’t understand his injury,” Chanyeol snapped, getting off of Junmyeon. He began to approach you. “We understand the curse, but not the injury. If we can’t heal the injury, we can’t stop the curse. We understand your injury and your curse. It’s different. You wouldn’t understand. Now—”

“But I want to understand—”

“You could never understand,” Chanyeol snarled, making his way into your personal space, “Your kind never do, the vermin that you are.”

You glared up at the unwavering red mask, even harsher in the moonlight, inches away from your face. “Now stop talking,” Chanyeol demanded, poking you square in your upper chest, “And don’t talk about my brothers as if you deserve to.”

He made his way back up onto Junmyeon, and the foursome continued, not even watching to see if you walked to keep up.

Junmyeon stopped walking at your speed for the rest of the long, cold night.

When you made your way back to the den, the sun was beginning to rise. As Chanyeol got off of Junmyeon, and shooed his brother away, you approached him.

“Why can’t I hear your conversations?”

You’d realized they were having a conversation pretty early on after your little spat, but didn’t comment on it, mainly because Chanyeol decided to whisper to his brothers so as to leave you out. You found it petty. But now, your curiosity got the best of you.

Chanyeol pulled back the hood of his pelt and took off his mask, scowling at you.“Why does it matter?”

“Because I might never understand, but I can try.”

Chanyeol scoffed at you, pushing past you. You’d had enough. Your feet were aching, your fingers and the tip of your nose were numb, your lips were close to breaking because of how chapped you were, and you were hungry and dehydrated.

So yes, you gripped his shoulder roughly, and pulled him back. You weren’t expecting him to let out a pained cry, and you didn’t expect to feel something hard beneath the cloak.

Immediately, the three wolves stood from where they had gone to lay down, snarling angrily, but he waved them away. They stopped snarling, but didn’t sit.

“What is—”

“Don’t touch me,” He said, swatting your hand away.

“Let me help you,” You countered earnestly. “Please.”

“Why should I?”

You made a face. “Because I might be able to figure out what’s hurting you?”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “I already know what’s hurting me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you been able to stop it? It’s a shoulder injury, it’s not that h—”

You stopped midway, when your eyes drifted to his injured shoulder, hidden beneath his clothes, his right shoulder.

The very one you had shot the day you got bitten.

“I did that,” You mumbled, gears turning in your head “...And you can’t have one of Emyr’s healers treat you because… up until yesterday, no one knew you had left the inner circle of the forest.”

A smug grin spread across your face. “Scared of mommy finding out, huh?”

Oh, if looks could kill.

You shook your head, your smile leaving your face. “Really. Let me help, Chanyeol. Let me right a wrong of my own doing.”

Chanyeol’s eyes looked you up and down, eyeing you suspiciously. Finally, he grunted out softly, before nodding his head in your direction once. “What are you gonna do?”

You had him lead you to the nearest body of water, a small stream about ten minutes from the den. You sat him down on the banks of the stream, where there was no snow. You set down what you had brought: his knife, plus your bandages and a small jar of ointment Yixing had given you for your cut.

It wasn’t working on you, but you had a feeling it was more due to the fact that you were cursed by ancient dark magic.

“Take off your clothes.” You pulled off your cloak and rolled up your sleeves. He made a perplexed face. “What are you—”

“Keep your pants on,” You added hastily, “I need to see the injury.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, he pulled off the pelt, and set it down gently next to where he was sitting. His tattered black shirt was also removed, and set down on top of it, but he left his necklace of animal teeth on. Kneeling behind him, your eyes settled on the tan skin of his back, before spotting the wound.

He must have broken the wooden shaft of the arrow as he tried to remove it, because the edge was splintered and the arrowhead was lodged in his skin. The skin around the wound was an angry red, swollen. You could even see a bit of pus caking in the crevice of the cut.

You picked up the knife, mentally noting where you would cut around to pull the arrowhead out. Your other hand rested on his other. “This is gonna hurt,” You told him, voice soft, “I’m sorry.”

You pressed down around the wound gently at first, feeling him tense up beneath you. Then, when you pressed down with more force, he hissed in pain. Finally, when you plunged the knife into the wound, he groaned out.

His breathing turned heavy as you tried to work quickly, but not too hastily as to butcher your work. You used the knife as a sort of separation between the arrowhead and his skin, trying gently to pull it out.

When you finally did, he let out a harsh, shaky breath, fists balled.

You led him to the stream, using your hands to wash out the wound. It wasn’t hot at all, and it probably wasn’t the cleanest, but it was the next best thing. Trying to remember how Yixing had done it that time you Jongdae accidentally shot Minseok with his bow, and you rinsed out the pus eventually.

You slathered on the ointment a bit more generously than you probably should have, trying your best to not hurt him too much, before dressing the wound with some of your gauze. You ripped off a bit of fabric from your pant leg, before looping it below his arm and tying it taut, so the bandage wouldn’t slip free.

“Better?” You asked when you were finished.

“I suppose,” He answered, moving his shoulder to test it out, “...Yes.”

You smiled, even though he wasn’t facing you. “You go back. I need to change my own bandages.”

“You know which way to go?” He asked, pulling on his shirt, and then his pelt.

“Yes,” You answered, watching as he picked up his knife before he stalked off.

He didn’t even thank you. You wondered vaguely if he knew how.

When you returned, now with fresh bandages, Chanyeol had curled up in the den with his brothers, and you went over to Ivan, who was chewing on some grass he’d found to put away your bandages and the ointment. Wordlessly, you flexed your fingers, watching how the skin had turned a black, necrotic color that would look unnatural on any skin tone. You wondered vaguely how much longer you had, before shaking your head.

You fell asleep again on the hard, uncomfortable rock, sleeping for hours upon hours.

You woke again in the late afternoon, around the same time you had first been attacked by Chanyeol and his brothers. The wolves were awake, some milling around the den and the others sitting in a circle. You could smell blood, and you perked up, figuring it must have been a catch.

Slowly, you made your way over to them. Jongin noticed you first, gaze hardening. His snout was stained red, and you looked down between his paws to see a piece of red meat. Chanyeol turned around when he realized Jongin was looking at you, looking you up and down before turning again. You pursed your lips at his face, the skin around his mouth stained with blood—he'd obviously been eating the meat raw like the others.

"Can I…?"

"You have your own food."

You sighed. "Not really. Not enough to satisfy myself for a whole day."

Chanyeol stared at you for a few moments, looking disinterested, before sighing. He pulled out his knife, before cutting off a sizable chunk of meat from the deer. He handed it to you, and you nodded. "Thanks," you mumbled, before walking off, sitting on your designated rock.

You needed to figure out how to cook this thing.

Thankfully, they hadn't taken your oil lantern, which you quickly uncapped and lit, before breaking a small branch off of the tree. You used the branch to pierce the meat, before letting it hover over the flame.

The flame was a bit small, but you knew it would cook eventually. At least until the exterior was cooked.

While you'd been working, you didn't realize that Junmyeon had made his way over to the circle, all of the wolves watching you.

What is she doing? Jongin asked, perplexed. She looks insane.

"I don't know," Chanyeol answered, leaning over to the gray wolf, "Maybe it's a human thing."

She's gonna burn it, Kyungsoo huffed, before spitting out a bone. If she doesn't burn down the entire forest first.

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. Yes, you were foolish, but he doubted you were incompetent enough to burn down an entire forest.

No, he's got a point. Junmyeon's tone was serious. Yeol, go see what she's doing. It could be dangerous.

Chanyeol set down his chunk of deer, wiping his hands off and making his way to you. Your eyes met his once he was standing in front of you. “Can I help y—”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m cooking my meat.” You sounded matter-of-fact. “I don’t want to get sick by eating it raw.”

Chanyeol tilted his head, frowning. “We’ve never gotten sick like that.”

“You’re used to raw meat, and they’re wolves. I am neither. So I have to.”

He pointed at the lantern, eyeing it warily. “What’s that?”

You stared at him for a second, before realizing just how isolated he had been from the human world. He didn’t know what bread or jam was, nor did he know about lanterns. He called guns those things, and he eyed you like you were other, as if you didn’t have the same shape of limbs, the same joints, ligaments and bones.

“I-it’s a lantern,” You explained, snapping out of your thoughts. You explained how it worked, how it was lit, and how you had to wait for it to cook the fire before you could eat it.

You didn’t notice how your bodies scooted closer every few seconds.

Neither did Chanyeol.

105 notes · View notes