digitialwonderland

[digitialwonderland]

Pursuit at Swan Lake

Chapter 4 Previous

Despite all the progress you and Simon had made, being at the end of a crossbow once again was not a welcomed sight. “Simon…” you murmured, wheezed as you pressed yourself to his back.

Silently, he reached back and pressed his hand to the small of your back, offering at least a bit of the comfort you were desperately seeking. “Soap, please-“

“Don’t ’Soap’ me.” The northerner growled, his eyes a blaze of an icy furry as he held his crossbow steady. “This what you’ve been up to? Stealin me medicine, sneakin off! All to see a lass?! A lass touched by dark magic nae less!” He stepped forward, making Simon tense in front of you.

“Johnny, please. I promise you I can explain. She’s harmless.” The urgency in Simon’s voice was startling enough to make your heart slam against your ribs. He was scared, you had never seen him scared before.

“Harmless?!” The northerner tilted his head back in a cruel, fully bellied laugh. “Christ, Simon! She’s no less deadly than any other! No less deceptive as a siren. No less malicious than the rest of Makarov’s experiments!”

That name alone seemed to bring time itself to a halt. Your lungs squeezed and refused to let in a breath that held the same air as that man’s name. Your heart moved so fast that it froze in absolute terror. You felt your blood run cold, for a moment, it felt like you may fall dead that very moment.

“Doll?”

Only at the sound of Simon’s voice did you realize that you were stumbling away from him. Only then did you feel the tears that were running down your face. Simon turned, seeming to forget about the northerner entirely. “Doll. Hey hey hey, look at me…”

A click and the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air. The bolt embedded itself into a tree behind you, leaving a shallow nick in your shoulder. Simon spun, his voice coming out in a low roar. “Johnny!”

But it was no use, before either of the men could turn their attention back to you, you had taken off. The towel lay abandoned on the grass while your footsteps left a barely visible trail into the darkened woods.

“God-fucking-damnit!”

Somehow, Simon had found a balance between rage, confusion, and utter panic. Worst of all, his doll was gone. There wasn’t even a second thought before he was taking off into the woods, leaving a confused Johnny behind him. The steelheaded bastard.

“Doll!” She couldn’t have gotten far, he was a hunter, surely she couldn’t outpace him that easily. “Doll?!”

“Simon Riley!” That was all the warning he got before over two hundred pounds of Scotsman slammed into his side.

Both men were sent to the ground in a heap. Limbs tangled and grunts passed between them. Before Simon could get his bearings, he was being pinned to the ground. “Ya speedy bastard! Slow down an’ think about this!” Johnny looked down at him with more anger and desperation that he had ever seen.

“Think!” Simon shot back, his volume building with his own anger. “Says the man who shot her!”

“Who shot the dangerous, magic woman!” Johnny corrected with a growl. “But by all means, blame me for tryin to save yer life.”

“Save my li- she’s cursed you numbskull!” Using the strength that had been building with his anger, Simon bucked his hips and tossed his friend off. In the same, swift motion, he was back up on his feet and turning to continue his search. His heart was hammering like a the hooves of a rampant stallion. He was angry, and that made him restless, but more than anything, he was scared. And that made him dangerous.

He marched into the woods, straining his eyes to adjust to the dark as he tried to follow the light footsteps in the grass. Johnny, never one to give up, was back on him in seconds. “Cursed? That doesnae make any sense!” Two strong hands landed on Simon’s chest, shoving him to the side and forcing him against a tree. “She lied to you.” Johnny was face to face with him once more. A mean, but equally confused snarl on his face.

“No, she didn’t. Makarov cursed her.” Simon felt just moments from losing all control. “Before he became a dark wizard. Before he was even well known.” He urged, his voice betraying his own despair and anxiety. “He cursed her. He cursed her because she refused to marry him.”

Johnny’s eyes widened and then narrowed, like he was slowly putting puzzle pieces into their spots. “I’ve never heard anythin bout tha’.” He grumbled, only infuriating Simon more.

“Get off of me. I need to find her”. For the second time, Simon shoved him away and took back off into the brush. But there was only a split second before Johnny was back on his heels. “Nae! We need to talk about this! Even if she isn’t evil. You’ve been stealin me things to see her!”

“It was important, Johnny.” He answered without even looking back. “I shot her with my crossbow. She wouldn’t have survived if I hadn’t used the medicine.”

“That doesn’t account for the lyin, the sneakin away!” Johnny growled, “I am leadin a revolution, Simon. I am under more pressure than I would have ever imagined! And right when things are startin ta get tricky you decide tha’ it’s okay to run off and keep this secret?!”

“Because I knew that this was how you’d react!” Simon yelled, not caring to hide his emotions from his voice any longer. “I was only going to stay with her until she healed…but then-“

“Then, what!”

“Then things changed! Also, I don’t want to hear shit about the pressure you’re under! You take on more responsibilities than you normally would. Your father is the king, not you. You are perfectly capable of backing off if you can’t hand the stress!”

“Says you, You’re Highness.”

Simon stopped in his tracks and spun around faster than Johnny could track. In just moments, Simon had grabbed Johnny by the jaw and forced him against a tree. “Don’t you ever call me that.”

Just to their right, there was the small crack of a twig. And then the angelic little squeak of his doll’s voice. “Y-you’re a prince?”

Fuck!

This didn’t make any sense, none of it did. Simon was a prince. And he was currently pinning another prince, Johnny, to a tree. How had this even happen?

“Doll, are you okay?” Simon was by your side in seconds, he shrugged off his cloak and quickly wrapped it around you.

“You’re a prince.” That’s all you could mutter, it was like your mind had hooked itself on the detail. Every thought revolved around that one, unveiled fact. This rugged, huntsman that had nearly taken your life and who had saved it, was royalty.

There was a look on Simon’s face that you couldn’t quite place, somewhere between resolve and a deep, penetrating sadness. His gaze delved into yours, searching for something you didn’t know. Then, he let out a heavy sigh, “I was”. He scooped you up, cradling you against his warm chest with ease. “I no longer am.”

When he turned to face Johnny, you instinctively flinched, but the northerner made no move. He simply stood there, watching with a narrowed gaze. Then, he followed in an intense silence as Simon carried you back to the shore of the lake.

That silence seemed to crawl after all three of you. It pressed down on Johnny and Simon, enforcing an angry quiet over the two of them. Simon brought you back to the camp and set you down gently in the fur-covered bed. Then he wordlessly helped you into his shirt and started a fire in the same silence. It was almost unbearable, sure, you were used to the kind of calm that came with Simon. But this wasn’t calm, this was the eye of a storm.

You settled into the furs, finding nothing else to do but reign your questions in and wait for the tension to crack.

Un-fuckin-believable. First, Simon is sneakin out of camp at random hours, and now, Johnny finds out he’s practically motherin a cursed girl. He still couldn’t bring himself to trust her any, no matter how docile she looked in Simon’s shirt and practically drowning in furs.

They were on the brink of war, this was no time for secrets. That’s what bothered Johnny the most. Simon and him weren’t supposed to have secrets. Sure, the bastard and a shell a mile thick, but they never kept secrets.

It was like starting at step one, all over again. With the unwelcome addition of this bright eyed, blushy cheeked, swan lass.

Johnny could practically hear the lectures his father would give. Angus McTavish, the king of Scotland, would have rung his neck over this. Not only for letting his suspicions lie for so long but for not executing the girl the second he got the chance. Johnny was a prince! That’s what he was meant to do! But that’s not what he was doing. Instead, he was sitting across the fire from a very closed of Simon, and watching every move of the nearly sleeping swan lass.

For the one that was in immediate danger, she seemed quite content to sleep. It was only about an hour before those long lashes of hers fluttered and those pretty eyes shut. That was when Johnny finally mustered the energy and confidence to break the tense silence. “I’m sorry lad, I didn’t mean-“

“Yes you did.”

Yup, right back to old Simon. He was going to have to start with something else. “What’s ‘er name?”

“ .”

“It’s pretty.”

“Yes it is.” Simon looked down at the sleeping girl, and something softened in his eyes. It was unmistakable, and a difference that Johnny had never seen in the man before. Slowly, Simon moved from his spot and tenderly adjusted the furs around her. She stirred, but he only cooed, hushing her back to whatever dreams she had been floating through before.

He cared for her, that much was certain. But Johnny knew better than to mention such a thing bluntly. “So…” he drawled, squirming under the tension, “she’s a swan.”

“No.” The reaction was almost immediate, Simon’s dark eyes honed in on him with a deadly glare that sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine.

“So she’s a lass.” There was no response. “She’s going to have a lot of questions now, about who you are-“

“Thanks to you.”

“It’s not like I knew she was listening in!”

There was an extended pause where both of the men seemed to toil over what to do next. This was truly unlike any situation Johnny had ever seen. And this time, there was no father to guide him or mother to comfort him. He had to be a prince now.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Simon’s voice cut through the air again, slightly softer around the edges. “Nobody will know how to react. She’s not ready for that.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Simon. But you can be sure as hell that I’m coming back tomorrow. And every other time you decide to visit.”

Simon tensed and hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the change. But after a moment he simply nodded. “Fine.”

And the matter was settled. But Johnny knew that it still wasn’t without its pressures. Nothing was without its pressures anymore. Princess Kyle’s marriage parade, or whatever it was they were doing in that castle, was set to begin tomorrow. War with the dark wizard was a breath away and from what the scouts were seeing, Makarov was planning something big. Now was not the time to falter, even if it meant working with a lassie who was also a swan.

Despite everything that John could be stressed about right now, he could admire how beautiful the castle was. It had been meticulously cleaned and decorated to possibly help in wooing Kyle’s potential prospects.

That part soured in John’s mouth as he thought about it. Potential prospects. He didn’t like that part at all. Especially when he could see how much it was affecting Kyle.

John stirred from where he was positioned in the gardens, watching as over one-hundred young princesses explored. They were all here for Kyle. Some were young ladies that John felt fitting. Kyle was the type of young man who needed a firm hand and gentle tongue. Some of the princesses clearly had that. But John knew better than to insert his opinion. If Kyle was anything, he was one to follow his heart. He only hoped that the king and queen wouldn’t try to sway his opinion.

“Excuse me, sir.” A gravelly voice to his right stirred John from his thoughts and directed his attention to a man with dark hair and a charming smile.

“Yes, how may I help you?” John responded, flashing the stranger a smile of his own.

“Yes, my daughter and I, we are here to see the prince.” The man chuckled to himself, “as everyone here is. I was simply wondering when we would all be given the opportunity to speak with his majesty?”

“Ah, yes sir, events will begin tomorrow afternoon. I can assure you that you and your daughter will have many opportunities to speak with the prince then.” John laughed lightly, enjoying the humorous air the stranger seemed to carry with him. “If you’d like, give me your daughter’ss name, perhaps I could put a good word in.”

The man laughed jovially, tossing his head back and pressing a hand to his stomach. When he seemed to finally clear it all from his lungs, he looked back at John with crinkled eyes and a bright grin. “Her name is Odile.”

Hey team, just realized I’ve been spelling Makarov wrong for like everything, let’s not point it out, okay?

Love you all, next chapter coming soon.

[digitialwonderland]

Okay, but the 141 as outlaws?!

The majority of the Americas still has yet to be tamed, by the colonizers that is. Cities were starting to blossom east of the Appalachian Mountains, but few dared to brave the much wilder, and deadlier west. Though, of course, rumors find their way around. Tales of men who managed to survive. Stories said they were shadows over the plains. Men who were perfect shots and deadlier than anything America had seen before.

But of course, there is always truth under the tale.

John Price had spent many years working as a military man. When new colonists started to flood into the Americas and force Westward movement, he traversed the mountains with his wife. Those days were full of dreams. His wife, Sarah, was a woman of light, an angel that he cherished and protected with everything he had. Together they had big plans of a small house of their own. A farm, with a wrap around porch to watch sunsets and a barn to house horses, which Sarah adored. The property would be a sanctuary, a place for their future children to run wild and a place for John to hang his hat and retire. But those dreams were crushed when a league of bandits stormed their camp. John hadn’t been there, he had only left for about an hour to get some food. But when he returned, he returned to ruin. His wife, defiled and killed, and all his hope with her. He was left with so little that becoming a sort of nomad was his only choice. And his rage? It became fuel for an act of revenge that went down in the history books as the first the 141 ever committed. Some say that there is still a half built barn sitting somewhere in the plains. Most believe that that is where he buried poor Sarah.

Simon Riley had been just a runt when his mother passed. She had been a lovely woman, soft hearted, kind. But the New World cared very little for women with weak immune systems. After she passed, Simon and his older brother, Bobby, were left with a father who decayed right before their eyes. At first, it was just the continuous flasks of whiskey. But soon, the flasks became bottles, and then those bottles became days that Mr. Riley didn’t go to work. Then, those days at home became days that Mr. Riley spent at the brothel. And soon, the nights after the brothel became the time when Mr. Riley would take his anger out on Simon and Bobby. Bobby did his damndest to keep the house standing, he had just graduated from school so he had already been out in the workforce. Initially, he set out to pick up more shifts, but when that wasn’t enough he looked for more dangerous jobs and better pay. Which meant that he had to strap on a belt and join the hordes of miners that were digging up minerals at the edge of town. Slowly but surely, Simon watched as his family fell apart. His father became a man of anger and drunkenness, while his older brother became a working man that seemed to get more tired by the day. He was seventeen when it all came to a head. Bobby was on his way home from the mines when he heard the commotion. None other than his father, who was being thrown out of the brothel for the third time that week. He tried to help him home, but a fight between Mr. Riley and another patron broke out. That fight became a duel. And that duel became one shot fired, but that shot didn’t hit Mr. Riley. From what Simon was told later on, Bobby had jumped in front of the bullet and took it to the chest, dying almost instantly. But that’s not the reality Simon adopted. Mr. Riley came home unscathed but Simon spent the next few hours burying his brother. And when he returned, his mind was set. His father had inadvertently killed Bobby. The events that followed are varied from the mouth to mouth telling of the story. Some say Simon went insane, some say he went into a rage and then fled. But one thing is always the same. Mr. Riley was left to die in a burning home, and Simon was last seen riding out to the horizon with a skull over his face.

Johnny McTavish was one of the many members of the McTavish family who went to America in search of a new beginning. With his lovely parents and four sisters, Johnny grew up in the New World while hearing stories of how lucky they were to have such an opportunity. But Johnny always favored the opinion that luck had abandoned the family the moment his grandparents stepped foot out of Scotland. They were poor, and they struggled to change that when there was a prejudice against their heritage. Mr. And Mrs. McTavish worked hard, but the cities of the New World were unforgiving to those who were different from the rest. Johnny grew up knowing that they were the black sheep of the herd. But he also grew up loving his heritage. He cherished every story, every kilt, every song. So by the time he was a young adult, every moment of not having enough was better than giving up his family history. That was until the rumor mill started to tear apart their reputation. Their very neighbors started to tell stories of witchcraft and foreign gods. Turning the friendly Scottish family into something to be feared. Then, everything escalated, his parents were being turned away from their jobs, his sisters were being mocked and avoided whenever they went into town. It all came to a head when officers in finely trimmed coats came to arrest his father for “suspicious activity”. That was Johnny’s breaking point. In a snap, the calm, charismatic young man the town knew became the guardian of everything his family had built. He told his family to run in one direction while he stole one of the officers horses and ran in the other. The spectacle became something spoken about for many years. A Scot on a stolen horse, riding through town like a mad man while his family quietly escaped. Johnny never knew what became of his family, but part of his heart hoped that they returned to Scotland. The last that awful town saw of him was when he was galloping towards the open west, followed by the thunderous hooves of outraged officers.

Kyle Garrick had been born in the wilderness. He had grown up with coyotes as neighbors and squirrels as friends. His parents had chosen a life far from any town or city. The moment they discovered they were with child, they fled further west. Desperate to give their baby a life where the color of his skin didn’t matter and where the people around him couldn’t mold his perception of what he could and couldn’t do. So, Kyle was born and raised in the wilderness. When he was only a child he was taught how to hunt and traverse the forest. By the time he was a teenager, Kyle was as deadly as a wolf. And by the time he was a young man, he knew of the challenges his parents had to face at the hands of others. He developed a strong sense of justice and became a man that his parents could happily be proud of. But tragedy struck when travelers from the east discovered their home. Kyle wasn’t there, he was out on a hunt, but when he returned he witnessed the horror that had been thrust onto his family. His mother and father had already passed, beaten by the fists of racist men. And his home had been ransacked, his childhood belongings taken into the hands of men who couldn’t care less. Very few knew what happened that night, but the story goes that he buried his parents at the bottom of a maple tree just west of the home. Then, he disappeared, fled into the shadows of the forest. The next time he was seen, he was accompanied by three others. A Scot, a man with a skull mask, and then a man in a worn, military coat.

[digitialwonderland]

don't know whether to laugh or cry because --

[digitialwonderland]

Hello! I just wanted to let you know I really love your work and I recently followed you so forgive any spamming since I'm reading through everything you have written. I just wanted to let you know that sadly your master list isn't leading to the fics from the links it just says there isn't anything there. I just wanted to let you know and I hope you have a wonderful day :)

Thank you so much for letting me know! I am definitely going to go through and try to fix it, I have no idea how that would have happened. So glad you’re enjoying everything! Have a lovely day! 🫶🏻

[digitialwonderland]

TF 141 but it’s the shows I think they watched as kids.

John Price- Scooby Doo, nobody can tell me otherwise. It just fits! Mystery, leadership, strong themes of friendship! Also, he absolutely had a crush on Daphne as a kid. But his favorite characters were still Shaggy and Scooby. Also, a little head cannon is that when he has kids he would sit and watch old episodes with them. (He knows them all by heart.)

Simon Riley- I don’t know why but some part of me knows that little Simon loved Sesame Street. Like face inches from the tv, LOVED Sesame Street. He probably didn’t mind Elmo, but his favorite Sesame Street characters were probably Burt and Ernie. Because they became an example of what he saw as a peaceful, domestic life. He also definitely became a bad influence on any siblings, on Saturday morning all of the Riley kids would be lined up in front of the TV.

Johnny McTavish- RugRats. YOU CANNOT TELL ME HIS ASS DIDNT LOVE RUGRATS. It also probably fueled a love for Simpsons later on. Out of all the McTavish kids, he was the only one who loved the show. And he became a little hellian because of it. He definitely discovered an early form of brain rot. He would quote the show, give his poor mother hell with all his pranks and mischief. Many ‘a RugRat inspired adventures led to weeks of being grounded.

Kyle Garrick- Clifford the Big Red Dog was definitely a staple for him. I can definitely imagine that he had a little, red stuffed dog toy that he named after the show. Little Kyle absolutely had an imaginary friend that was like Clifford. He would just be so cute running around the house with his Clifford toy! He probably also loved the little kids books and made small cities with his other toys so that his Clifford could be like the one from the show. I bet that toy sits hidden in his barrack room somewhere.

[digitialwonderland]

Bells and Stripes

Chapter 5 Previous

When you woke up the next morning, there was the steady pound off two hearts. One against your back, the other against your chest. Warmth was all around you, perfectly inescapable.

Your lashes fluttered open, and your body slowly stretched out. You were going to yawn, but a hushed voice cut you off. “Shhh, darling, Johnny is still asleep.” Simon’s chest rumbled against yours like a steady purr as he spoke. In the next moment, you felt his hand as it sank into your hair and gently combed it away from your face.

A soft, pleased hum escaped you, followed not shortly after by a smile that felt like it was melting over your lips. “Good morning,” you murmured in the softest of whispers. Before you could even look up at him, his lips were meeting yours.

They moved slowly, languidly, as if to seal every moment of last night against your skin. His hand moved to cup your jaw, keeping you right there as he slowly pulled away. “Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?”

You nodded mindlessly, still caught in the pleasant, drifting warmth of the morning kiss. When your eyes finally opened fully, you took a moment to just soak him in. His hair was messy and spiked awkwardly, his cheeks were slightly rosy still. Dark marks decorated his neck and collar bone, some from you, some you don’t remember leaving. He looked perfect, with his handsome features softened and his lips curled in an easy smile. “Mhmm, did you?” You asked while tucking your head under his chin.

Every word vibrated through you, leaving pleasant, warm waves in their wake. “Best nights rest of my life.” There was a soft grumble behind you, where you felt Johnnys arm coil tighter around your waist. “He’s like a bear…” Simon chuckled.

“Ai,” Johnny mumbled, still half asleep as he nuzzled into the back of your neck. “Only before breakfast.” A wave of giggles and laughter passed over you and Simon. Only stirring poor Johnny further from sleep. He grumbled once more, slowly releasing you as he rolled onto his back and raked his hand through his hair.

You rolled over, turning to watch him. He too looked debauched in the most perfect fashion. Light red scratch marks lined his chest and biceps, and hickies dotted various spots on his neck. Still, he had a deeply satisfied look about him. Every muscle was relaxed and a pleasant smile lingered on his lips. “So grumpy…” you chided lightly, “here I thought it would be Simon who couldn’t get up in the morning.”

“I’ll try to not think too far into that,” Simon coiled his arm around you and tucked his face against your neck. “For your information, I’ve been up for nearly half an hour.” Another laugh bubbled from your lips as his connected in feather-like kisses over your neck and pulse. Where they danced over your own markings from the previous night. Johnny had finally gained enough sense to open his eyes, and now watched with a small smirk. “Such a pretty thing.” He murmured, his voice rough with sleep as he reached up and gently cupped your chin. “Such a pretty, mischievous, forbidden thing.”

The moment hung in the air, drawn out as you stared into his deep, tired eyes. There was a peace that seemed to surround all of you, like a time capsule. Forever keeping that moment in the protective hands of affection. Johnny leaned up, pressing a gently kiss to your forehead. “We need to get up before Price comes to check on how things went.”

Simon froze, his arm tensed and tightened around you. “Shit. Yeah, we need to get up.” He looked up at Johnny and quickly started to slide out of bed. “Do you think he’ll know?”

Johnny only chuckled, “have you seen all of us? It’s impossible for him to not at least be suspicious.”

You three hastily got dressed and made effort to hide what was painfully obvious. By the time you were done, the room had been anxiously cleaned, all three of you had painstakingly scrubbed yourselves clean, and you had been put in your most modest dress. Which thankfully covered your neck enough to hide any remnants of the night before.

Luckily, Simon’s uniform hid the majority of his skin, making it nearly impossible for anyone to peek at the markings on his neck. Johnny had the toughest luck, his costume left his neck fully exposed.

“There’s not much more I can do.” You murmured, tapping even more makeup onto his neck. He stood patiently in front of you, head tilted back and his hands resting on your hips as you sat on your bathroom countertop. “Some of these are too dark to cover completely.”

A lazy, charming smirk crawled over his lips. “Oh I wonder who I have to blame?” That earned him a firm scowl from you, but he only chuckled. “Don’t act like you aren’t proud, sweetheart…” he reached up and gently toyed with the lace on your dresses collar. “I know I am.”

There was a swift, firm knock at the door. One that sent all three of you into a panic. “One moment!” You called, scrambling off the counter and trying to find a spot with the perfect, respectful, unassuming distance between you and the guys. Who were also doing the same. After a few moments of our anxiety, you finally called out. “Come in!”

The door swung open, revealing Price who was leaning against the doorframe, a knowing smile painted over his lips. His eyes scanned over all three of you, picking out every detail. “So,” he drawled, smiling to himself. “How did last night go? Any luck finding the culprit?”

“No! No luck!”

“Nope! It was boring!”

“No culprit here!”

He chuckled, shaking his head as if he already knew everything. Did he? Looking back at all of you, his keen gaze pressed down on all three of you. “Hmmm…no dice? That’s tough. Good thing I know who did it.”

Every thought came to a stuttering halt. “You…WHAT?!” Simultaneously, you, Simon, and Johnny were all sent into a spiral of confusion. How long had he known? Why the hell would he tell you to all spend the night together?

Questions flew from Johnny and Simon, all of the same sort. Why? What? And who? Price, who still seemed as calm as a sailor in a storm, lifted his hands to quiet everyone. Once the room fell into silence, he finally spoke. “Johnny, Simon, are you two getting along now?”

Once again, confusion and silence became the common theme. “Y-yes?” “Ai.” Both answered, watching the man in front of them as he stepped into the room and focused his attention in on you. “Princess, did you have a good night?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. But the pieces slowly started to fall into place. Oh. Oh. A smile crawled over your lips and stung at your cheeks. “Yes, it was a great night.”

Price smiled down at you, clearly pleased with the answer. “Good,” he straightened, shooting both Simon and Johnny a lasting look before taking a few steps to the side. “I would like to introduce to you all my apprentice, Kyle Garrick.”

Just then, a man only a year your senior stepped into the doorway. His skin was dark and his eyes glimmered an almost golden hue. He was handsome, but not in the same way as Johnny was rugged or Simon was clean cut. Kyle was beautiful, he had high cheekbones, full lips and a pleasant physique that lacked the scarring men typically gained with the muscle.

“GAZ?!” Simon barked in utter disbelief, “it was you?!”

Gaz ducked his head sheepishly, looking over at Price. But all John did was gesture for him to step forward. You knew this man, had seen him many times, but very rarely had you ever spoken. This shy man was the one who had left you the flower?

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, straightening and trying to look all three of you in the eye. “I didn’t realize that I would cause offense.” The words sounded so orchestrated and practiced on his tongue you could see Price biting back another chuckle.

Both Johnny and Simon stepped forward to say something, but you spoke first. “It’s okay Kyle, a flower is nothing to apologize for.” There was a hush that fell over the room in response. Gaz watched you intently, his eyes sparkling with a hope that almost made your heart melt. Johnny quickly grabbed your hand in his and guided your attention to him. “Make sure you are okay with this before you continue.” He murmured under his breath.

You looked back at him, and searched his neutral but concerned expression. “Are you okay with this?” You asked in return, trying to keep your voice low enough for Gaz to not hear.

Johnny seemed to think about it for a moment, but only smirked. “Like I said, I’m okay with a lot more than you would expect.” He shrugged, but then his eyes darted up to Simon, “I would ask the big guy though.”

When you turned, Simon looked tense. His eyes had hardened into a firm, critical glare as they bounced between Gaz and Price. The muscles in his jaw and arms ticked, like he would be ready for action at any moment. You reached out, gently slipping your hand into his. “Simon…”

His eyes flicked down to you, widening at first but then softening. “Is this okay with you?” You asked feeling your voice come out almost feather light, like he might shatter if you misspoke.

He didn’t speak for a long moment, then his eyes flicked up to Johnny, where they remained before he looked back down at you and spoke. “I want whatever makes you happy…if you’re comfortable with it, then I am.” Even after this response, you waited before looking back at Gaz.

“Okay then, seems like we’re all on the same page.”

Gaz looked between all three of you, his eyes slightly wider than they were before. “You three are a-“

Price quickly cut him off and placed a hand on his shoulder. “How about we all get back to our usual duties.” He passed a soft but firm smile between all of you. “No need to discuss things further until we have all got our wits more firmly about us.”

Gaz nodded absentmindedly and let Price guide him out the door. But before leaving himself, he Price cast a look back at you, Simon, and Johnny. “I hope you three are aware of the secrecy that you must maintain this with.” He gave you all a firm look. “Be careful, nothing funny today”.

Then, he slipped out the door, leaving it open as he did. Your hands slipped quickly out of Simon and Johnny’s. You three stood in silence for a long moment as emotions swirled. Now, everything was out, the relationship, the feelings, the night, it was all up in the air and floating around your heads. But there was also a sense of danger that remained intimately close to the warm and fuzzy emotions. In just a few hours, you had stepped into something completely unorthodox and forbidden. And now you were standing in the forbidden with not one, but four men. Five if you counted Price as being the all knowing confidant that he had somehow made himself.

How could you possibly step forward and act normal? More importantly. How could you possibly move forward and be a part of your matrimonial ceremonies?

In less than a week, you were meant to enter into the process of finding a husband of royal blood. What were you going to do?

I love Price being the partner in crime :)

[digitialwonderland]

can't get enough of biker!ghost

[digitialwonderland]

Okay, but gladiator 141?

Gladiator!Price who was a general that went against direct orders from the senate and Cesar. Sentenced to a life as a gladiator he quickly took his place as one of the more respected fighters. His training became his anchor, and his leadership skills quickly earned him some trusted allies. However, John had always had a weakness for pretty little things. So when he spotted an angelic face in the crowd, he couldn’t help but shoot her a wink as he left his opponent dead in the arena.

Gladiator!Ghost who earned the nickname for his utter brutality. Shoved into a life of killing after his father doomed the family with debt, Simon used his reputation as a weapon. His image became something that haunted patrons at gladiator fights, one where a skull was painted over his face. There was a long time where Simon had settled on simply becoming that. An image of death and destruction. But then he watched as a pretty little dove let her eyes linger on him for longer than most would. Suddenly, he wanted to be so much more.

Gladiator!Soap whose fights were always more of a performance than an act of violence. He drew attention in like a magnet and thrived in the arena. Sure, killing wasn’t exactly the best thing to have to do every day. But he loved the attention. He especially loves the attention of the pretty lass that always finds her way to the front row. He always took care to grab her flower as hundreds fell into the arena. Always making a point to breathe in its sweet scent and shoot her a private smile.

Gladiator!Gaz who had been an underdog from the start, but the people loved him. His family had been raided by Roman guards, when he resisted he was banished to the life as a gladiator. At first he thought he was doomed, sure someone like Price could teach him how to fight. But what was the point if there was nothing worth fighting for? That was until he met his little flower, the prettiest thing in the crowd. Who had caught his eye from the very beginning, and who quickly became his motivation to keep fighting.

[digitialwonderland]

We’ve all heard about TF 141 interacting with mermaids. But what if Soap met a selkie.

If you don’t know what a selkie is, it’s from Scottish mythology. It’s a seal that can shed its skin and turn into a woman.

Seal Song

You know, Johnny had grown up listening to tall tails about the ocean. Things that his mother muttered when the skies drew in dark clouds from the shore. Things that his father would whisper to him and his sisters as bedtime stories.

But that’s just what they were…whispers, right?

Wrong.

When he saw a Kelpie he was but a child looking over the railing of his father’s boat. So young, he didn’t even question it when he saw the horse-like creature darting between the rocks and prancing over the sandy depths. That was the first time he realized there might be some truth to all those stories.

Out of all the tall tails though, the last one he anticipated meeting was a Selkie.

It was in that month or so of leave that Price had convinced him to take. A month in which he was sleeping in his old sail boat and in the constant presence of his parents or sisters. It had been only a few days when he noticed a particular woman.

“Oi, Maisie?” He whisper-yelled down the aisle of the bookstore.

At the other end, a woman just a few years shy of his age poked her head out. His sister. You could tell too, same bright blue eyes and dark hair that fell in windswept waves over her shoulders. “Ya?”

“Who’s tha?”

Just outside the bookstore, wandering almost aimlessly down the stone walkway was a woman. She had a certain look about her, hair that seemed long enough to reach her rear if it wasn’t braided. Skin that seemed to almost glimmer in the sunlight. And her eyes….that’s what drew Johnny in, her eyes were big, they seemed to soak in everything around them. Yet there was a quality to them that made them seem…less than human.

“Oh, tha’ is Colin Mallory’s wife…or girlfriend,” the uncertainty drew his attention back to his little sister. “She’s a bit of an odd one,” Maisie, explained, keeping her eyes on the strange woman. “Don’t talk much….bit creepy, you ken?”

A hum rumbled deep in Johnny’s chest as he watched the almost ethereal woman wander into a small grocery store. “Tha’ Mallory’s a bit of a bastard, ain’t he? Bad temper, if I remember any.”

Maisie nodded in agreement, “you ken, nae too long ago, I spotted her ‘n Colin by the docks.” Johnny’s interest was instantly peeked, drawing him into his sister’s words. “She was helpin ‘im load up a boat, but she was actin a bit odd, little distracted. Personally, I think she was high off ‘er ass. But tha’ doesn’t excuse what Colin did.”

“What did he do?” Johnny pressed, feeling his body buzz with anticipation.

“He put his hands on the poor girl!” Maisie exclaimed, “slapped ‘er so hard I could see the red from where I was sittin! Then grabbed ‘er arm and practically dragged her into the boat!”

Something in Johnny flipped, all that energy that had been building with anticipation was now falling into anger. Johnny hated any man who laid his hands on a woman. In his mind, a woman beater wasn’t any better than some of the scum he saw over seas with the 141. His eyes went back to the entrance of the grocery store and something in his heart tugged. Or was it his instincts and curiosity. “It’s not right.” He muttered, already putting the books in his arms back on the shelf.

Maisie, who knew her brother all too well, quickly tried to intervene. “Nae! But ya don’t need to step in, Johnny! Don’t do somethin stupid!”

“Stupid?” He scoffed, grabbing his wallet and passing it off to her. “Get whatever you want, but don’t wander too far. I’ll be back.” Then, he was off, slipping out of the bookstore and crossing the street.

“Johnny!” Maisie whisper-yelled after him, but it was hopeless. When Johnny got his mind on something, she knew all too well he was as hard to move as a boulder.

The grocery stores were always busy at this hour, people pressed together to weave their way from store to store. But an unspoken plus of coming to town at around lunchtime was the smell. Cafés, bars, and restaurants opened their doors to draw people in with the scent of good food. It was one of Johnny’s simple joys of being home. But it was also a major distraction when he was trying to look for a lass.

He pressed past another group of people, his eyes scanning over the crowd as they meandered through aisles and store fronts. For a moment, he thought that it was hopeless. She was such a little thing, how could he spot her like- there she is. Like a phantom in the crowd, she nearly glowed where she stood. It was odd, yes, but something about her drew him in. She was beautiful, yet the air around her teased at an unknown danger that made the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up.

He slid over to that side of the store, finding her in front of the bread aisle. Her eyes scanned the items while her hand hovered in the air. Instantly, his eyes snagged on the dimly glimmering ring on her ring finger. Damnit.

For a moment, he considered stepping away, but then his eyes caught glimpse of what was under the sleeve of that pretty dress she was wearing. Deep purple blossomed like a poisonous flower on her wrist, barely hidden by the lace on her sleeve. Suddenly, the ring didn’t matter so much. “Do you need help findin something, bonnie?”

Her eyes darted up, quick as lightning they were. And bright as a blazing fire. Johnny could practically feel them run over his body, and he was ashamed to admit that a deep blush had crawled over his cheeks.

“You don’t work here,” she spoke finally, and he was immediately aware of her different accent. Sure, he had seen some thick Scottish accents in his time. But this girl was nearly speaking full Gaelic. English almost seemed clumsy on her tongue while being carved out by the bold vowels and rounded edges of the Scottish accent.

“Nae lassie, I don’t.” He admitted, feeling the press of embarrassment and a bit of sheepishness on his shoulders. “But I’m a lad who can hardly resist helping a lass when she needs it.”

Her big eyes narrowed in on him, Johnny could have sworn that she was picking apart his very soul. But when she spoke next, her voice was slightly softer. “The store has moved the pan loaf, it would be nice to have help findin it.”

Johnny could feel his whole face light up, in any other occasion he would have been embarrassed of such a visible reaction. His shoulders lifted and his back straightened. “I would love to help ya, bonnie”.

He tracked a small twitch at the corner of her lips while a smile tried to form, but she turned before he could see it. “What’s yer name?” She asked, her voice thick and smooth like Johnnys favorite chocolates.

“Johnny McTavish,” he answered unable to stop the swell of pride in his chest.

“Mmm, McTavish. Good family.”

If he hadn’t already been caught in the thralls of his own mind, he would have questioned why the stranger would say such a thing. Having been…a stranger. But what immediately took the forefront of his mind was how his sister had spoken about the poor girl. How he had been trapped in the jaws of gossip not half an hour ago. “Ya, lassie, very proud of me family.”

She nodded, but glanced over her shoulder, as if she could sense even the most minute changes in his voice. “What about you, bonnie ? What’s yer name?”

“ Mallory.”

Johnny could already feel the resistant tick in his jaw. It was in the way she said the last name. Like it was being pried from her lips, like it was something she had never wanted to own. But he knew better than to say anything about it now. He would have to be patient.

“Pretty name, but I think bonnie fits ya just right.”

That earned a giggle from her. The sound was perfect. Like the melodic chirp of a bird. It made Johnnys heart leap in his chest, like a dog that had just been thrown a bone. “Ai, pretty sound tha’ is. Break a man’s heart if it wanted to.”

She looked back at him once more, but this time with a certain glimmer in her eyes. “Yer a clever flirt.”

Now it was his turn to smile, “only when I want to be.”

For a moment, it looked as if more laughter hung at the tip of her tongue. But then she looked down at her own hand, where her wedding ring still glimmered. “I-I should get goin.”

“W-wait,” the word tumbled from Johnny’s lips far quicker than he really wanted them to. “Here.” He reached up, finally spotting the bread that they were supposed to be looking for. And he offered it up to her with wiry smile. “Here’s the bread.”

She remained frozen for a moment, her eyes slightly bigger than they already were. But then took the bread. “Thank you,” she murmured tossing it into her basket.

For a few seconds, timed seemed to stretch out into long moments of dread. This was it? Now she would just go back to that abusive bastard of a husband? Was there nothing he could do?

“Oh and….” Johnny’s mind was in a scrambled, but he knew that this couldn’t be the last time he ever spoke to her. “Do you have a pen and paper?”

Her brows furrowed, and her lips pulled into a bit of a frown. But nevertheless she reached into her purse and pulled out a pen and small list of groceries.

“Here’s my number,” Johnny said, quickly scribbling his phone number onto the yellow paper. “If you ever need anything, just call.” He passed the pen and paper back to her, wincing slightly at how his words may have hinted at his knowing her personal business. But once again he found himself caught between standing by and his strong desire to help people.

She looked at the paper for a second, reading the numbers again and again until her eyes had worked their way back to his. “When you were little…did yer parents ever tell you tales about what lies in the ocean.”

This response took Johnny completely by surprise, if it weren’t for the utter seriousness in the girls expression, he would have thought she was pulling his leg. “Ai,” he answered, his voice slight less steady than before.

She seemed to take in this information with a quick nod. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away. Disappearing into the crowded store.

[digitialwonderland]

Quick doodle. Go inspired by @fludderpy's recent Price piece - so wonderful

[digitialwonderland]

Girl I NEED a third part of your secretary!r amd tf141

I yearn for it

🤣 I’ll definitely try to brew something up for a good part 3 😏

[digitialwonderland]

A quick way to make me wanna cry is thinking about how Simon Riley’s worst fear would be to end up like his father.

I was just listening to this song and thinking about all the ways Simon would compare himself to his trauma and abuse. Every fight on the battlefield would lead to a full glass of whiskey and a night of thinking about how similar he must look to his father with his hands bloodied.

The task force wouldn’t even notice with how quiet he is. But it’s in the way his eyes widen when watching footage of himself fighting. Or how he sometimes freezes up during sparring matches and refuses to look anyone in the eyes the rest of the day.

Johnny eventually weasels it out of him when they go drinking and Simon has a few two many. “Do a I like my father, Johnny?”

“What? I’ve never met your father, lad.”

“You wouldn’t have to.”

[digitialwonderland]

Part 2 of Secretary!Reader x TF 141

Previous

After the little pool incident, the tension between you and the task force was undeniable. All of a sudden, Soap had special interest in popping by your desk whenever he could. Gaz seemed to suddenly want to get to know you more. And Ghost’s eyes seemed to linger longer than they used to.

You walked into Price’s office, a stack of files in one arm and a stack of papers in the other. John was at his desk, his glasses hanging low on his nose as he stared down at some reports. Ice clinked against glass as he swirled a whiskey in his hand. He was frustrated, you could tell because he only nurses a whiskey at work if he really needs it.

“Sir, I have the files you requested, as well as the papers that need your signature.” You prompted gently, stepping up to the front of his desk.

His eyes drifted up to you slowly, as if weighed down by whatever was going on in his mind. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He offered a soft smile, one that seemed even softer than any before.

You nodded and turned to walk back out of the office. But something in you tugged you to a stop. Normally, you would have just set the things down and walked away. Normally, you would have just returned to your desk. But not today. Maybe it was all that had happened the few days before. Maybe seeing him and the TF in such a casual setting threw off your professionalism. Now, you found it difficult just to leave his troubles be. “Sir, is everything alright?”

His eyes widened, gaining a more awake look as he took you in. He remained quiet for a second, as if he was running the question over and over in his mind. “Y-yeah, darlin, I’m okay.” He muttered at last, but when you nodded and turned once more he quickly spoke out again. “You know, you don’t have to call me Sir, right?”

Now, it was you who paused in surprise. Immediately your mind was rushing over all you had seen the other day. And soon, the olive branch you had just given him started to feel like a bloom of potential. No. You shoved those thoughts aside. He was just being polite, right?

“Okay…John.” You said softly, as if simply calling him by his first name would break the moment.

His lips parted and his eyes searched yours for a moment. Then, a small, mischievous smile curled over his lips. “The guys and I are planning on spending the afternoon in the pool. If you want to join us, and don’t mind a little pestering, you are welcome to join.”

For a second, you half expect to have misheard him. There was simply no way he would actually….

Yet, the small, shy smile that crawled over your face said otherwise. After a few moments of warring with yourself over it, you finally spoke. “That would be nice.”

You didn’t expect for this to be so nerve racking. Picking the right bathing suit, showing up in the TF’s doorstep in flip flops and a cover. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. But, just like last time, the house keeper answered the door. “Welcome back, dear. They’re in the pool.”

You felt like a child again, like you were going to your first dance. “Thank you, ma’am.” You walked the same path through the house that you had not a few days ago. And passed through the same back door. Lo and behold, there they were.

Price was lounged back in one of the chairs, his hat resting over his eyes. His lips seemed permanently curved into a smirk, and one of his hands rested on the softer curve of his muscular stomach, drawing attention to how the fat loosely revealed the abs underneath.

Soap and Gaz were in the main area of the pool, bathed in the blue glow as they tossed a football back and forth. Even from where you stood, you could see every muscle flex and stretch with the throws. It was their smiles that made it a perfect image. Each one bore a boyish grin that stretched from ear to ear and brought out all the charm in their handsome faces.

Ghost, always one for solitude, was in the hot tub, off to the side. He too was bathed in that electric blue color. His tatted arms were stretched out along the edge on the pool, almost giving him the look of a subject in a painting. With his head lulled back just right and his chest flexing against the stretch, it was damn near romantic.

“Hey there, lass!”

Soaps cheerful voice drew your attention back down to the main pool. The weight of all four gazes settled on your shoulders, making you squirm where you stood. “Hi, I hope you all don’t mind if I join…”

“Nae! Not at all lassie! Please, join us!”

The quick response earned a chuckle from Price, who had stood and was now making his way over to you. “Try to not be over eager, Johnny.”

Price, ever the man of sense and calm, sauntered over as if all from earlier in the day had been forgotten. “Glad you could join us.” He said, politely taking your bag and guiding you to a spot next to where he had been sitting. “Seems like the perfect day for it,” you smiled, padding after him and trying to ignore how Gaz and Soaps heads seemed to swivel to follow you.

Price looked back at you as you kicked off your flip flops, the way eyes lingered certainly didn’t fly under his radar. “Again, I hope you don’t mind a little pestering.”

“I don’t pester!” Soap shot back, not even giving you a chance to guess who Price meant. Gaz burst into laughter, letting the melodic sound fill the space, “have you even met yourself?”

A bashful smile carved itself over your lips as you looked up at Price, “I hope that I won’t become a disturbance.” You muttered, feeling slightly guilty for drawing so much attention.

An amused yet tender smile pulled over his lips until his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Sweetheart, I don’t think it’s physically possible for you to disturb us”.

Instead of being in the crossfire of the game of catch that was happening in the main pool. You opted for the hot tub. Which seemed a healthy distance from the chaos.

As you walked over, you noticed something that had briefly caught your eye the last time you were at the TF’s house. Ghost was still wearing his balaclava. Certainly that was uncomfortable, what happens if the fabric gets wet? You padded over to the hot tub, carefully picking a spot across from Ghost. “Mind if I join?”

His head, which had still been lulled back, slowly lifted, and his sharp, dark gaze settled on you with what felt like a kilo of weight. Simon Riley had a way of doing that, bringing the weight of his observance down on people. He scanned you, eying the thin straps of your bathing suit and the the long expanse of your legs. This continued on just long enough to make you squirm before he nodded and gestured to the spot across from him.

Well, that was scary.

With a mind to simply not speak to him again, you settled in the shelf of the hot tub. But it wasn’t two seconds before Soap was swimming up to the small ledge that separated the main pool from the hot tub. “So, lassie, I hope ol’ Price doesn’t work ya to hard en tha office of yers.”

He leaned over the ledge, flashing you that charming smile that made your stomach dip. “No, John is a very good boss. I’m happy to help him.”

He nodded, watching your features as you spoke. “We barely see ya outta tha office. ‘D be nice to see ya round base every now ‘n then.”

“Stop laying it on so thick, Johnny.” Ghost voice nearly made you jump as it rumbled at the other end of the pool. “You’re gonna frighten her.” He grumbled, looking over at the Scotsman with a dark glare.

“Scare ‘er?!” Soap nearly yelped. “You scare ‘er ya bloody grim reaper.”

“How about, you are both scaring her.” Gaz said as he approached the ledge. He gave you a smile, tilting his head at you when he spoke. “It is nice of you to join us though. We’ve been meaning to see more of you, since you help the Captain out so much. You know, to show gratitude and all.”

You could feel your heart actively melting at his words. You were almost getting cuteness aggression over that adorable smile of his. “Aww, thanks Gaz, that’s actually really sweet.”

Soap immediately had protest. “Aww?! Ya get an aww from ‘er?!” He turned to Gaz, his accent thickening. “Step off ya show pony, yer takin me spot light!”

The water rippled beside you as Price slipped into the hot tub. “Johnny,” he said, his voice low in a warning. He sat down beside you on the shelf, draping his arm along the edge of the pool and behind you. Like a claim. Your stomach dipped, you had to fight to keep your head on your shoulders and your heart in your ribs.

Soap looked up, his eyes widening slightly as he watched the captain. But then, a slow, mischievous grin formed in his face. “Lassie,” he smirked, flicking his finger between Price and Ghost. “Ya ever get bored of this, let me know.” Then, he pushed off and swam back into the main pool. Gaz remained, his big brown eyes slightly widening for a moment before he gave you one last quick smile and pushed off to join Soap.

“Like a bunch of pups, they are.” Price grumbled beside you. He was close, so close that if you were to lean your arm might brush his side. “Sorry about them, love.” Your eyes snapped up to his, only to find that he had most likely watched you eye the lack of distance.

“It’s okay, John. I find it endearing really.” He smiled approvingly, but Ghost spoke before he had a chance to reply.

“Since when are you on a first name basis?”

Both you and Price looked over at the lieutenant. Price with a slight scowl, and you with a look of absolute horror. “Oh my God, am I not supposed…”

“You are just fine, love.” Price grumbled beside you, “Simon just likes to be sour with new people.” That earned a hardy glare from Simon, but there was something beneath it. Not a distrust of you, but something else.

Well…this was going to be a long night.

Hope you like it, lovelies!

[digitialwonderland]

Hey, I really like your secretary blurb. I was wondering if we could get some more? And I love love love your swan story!

I’m so glad you are enjoying everything! I would love to do a part 2 of the secretary blurb! Just hang in there for the post 😁

[digitialwonderland]

Okay, but hear me out….

Reader is the only herbivore hybrid in TF 141. Probably and Doe or Deer. This took a lot of getting used to at first but after a while, the TF grew pretty accustomed to the arrangement. That is until they have a mission that requires cooperation with KorTac. And guess what, KorTac is an all herbivore task force. Konig’s big ass would be a moose hybrid or something. Horangi would be a Buck hybrid. And you can get creative with the rest.

Essentially what would end up happening is poor reader is experiencing hormones they never have before because there are a bunch of dudes with big antlers and charming smiles around. And now the 141 are left trying to keep KorTac from pouncing on the reader every chance they get.

;)

[digitialwonderland]

More stupid shit at 3am

[digitialwonderland]

Swan lake with the TF 141

Pursuit at Swan Lake

Chapter 3 Previous

Simon’s warmth seemed to follow you through your dreams like a phantom. Foolishly, you chased it past each flashing image of your nightmares. But when you woke, it was nothing but your white feathers that were gathered around you. The fire was at a low simmer, and his scent still seemed to cling to the furs.

He returned the next night, and the next. Always carrying with him the jar of medicine, and always leaving food behind. It took only a few days before you were able to gather enough strength to start moving.

“We’ll start off slow, until you can swim on yer own again.” Simon mumbled as he quickly tossed off his shirt.

He had been planning this out step by step, taking everything with more care than he ever dared to give himself when healing. Truth be told, it broke his heart every time he had to watch his doll go through her transformation. Even in her sleep she let out soft whimpers of pain as feather and beak replaced her skin and lips.

Simon stepped forward, not missing how the swans large eyes seemed to linger on his torso. “We only have about an hour before sunset,” he reminded her as he crouched down and held out his hands. “Let’s make it count, yeah?”

She hesitated for a moment, looking down her beak at his large hands. He could see the gears turning in that head of hers, practically hear them. But after a moment she gave a small huff and then slowly started to stand. “Easy, sweetheart.”

The words fell from his lips far easier than he ever cared to admit. He had almost tried to resist calling her all the endearments, but the sweetness the stung at his cheeks and warmed in his chest was like a hit that he could grow addicted to.

She stood and wobbled for a second. Even in this form, Simon could see the way her eyes narrowed in determination and the way her legs trembled a bit. “Tha’s it, doll.” He held his hands further out, unable to help the hope that blossomed in his chest. “Take it nice ‘n slow.”

In a shuffle, she cautiously made her way to him. She spent every step like she was expecting for the pain to come back to haunt her, Simon would be lying if he didn’t wait on the edge for her to show signs of pain. It was so natural that he barely noticed how ready he was to jump in if she needed him. But his doll was strong, and sure as night she slowly made her way into his arms. “There she is.”

Simon scooped up the swan as delicately as if she were an infant, “you did good, doll.” He held her to his chest, careful to avoid the blackened star of feathering on her plumage. He still found it difficult to look at the mark. Every time he did he felt his eyes snag for a few seconds too long. Guilt always followed, along with the tight squeeze of regret in his heart. But there was something underneath all that, a beast he refused to acknowledge.

He took the first step into the lake, watching as the water rippled out from beneath him. Her eyes flicked back and forth, watching the flock at the other end of the lake. Under different circumstances he would have chuckled about how worried she was for them.

Deeper and deeper he went into the cool water, it wasn’t an awful temperature, the spring heat had offered the lake some time to warm after winter. “There we go,” Simon muttered, more to her than himself as he settled in a spot that was up to his waist. “You ready, doll?”

She looked down at the water, tapping her beak at it as if to disapprove in some way. But then, her sleek, white-feathered head dipped into a nod. “Just swim right back to me when yer ready to be done.” It sounded a little ridiculous, telling a swan to come back when she was done swimming. But then again, she wasn’t a swan.

Slowly, Simon lowered her into the water, letting her get her bearings before fully letting her go. She bobbed for a second, making Simon’s heart nearly turn to stone, but then her feet started to catch a rhythm and she started to move.

In the distance, the flock of swans quacked in an uproar, almost like a choir. She responded in equal, paddling in happily little circles in the water.

Hardened Hunter be damned, Simon couldn’t stop the smile that cracked crookedly over his lips. In any form, it was a delight to see his doll happy. The way her eyes squinted even hinted at a smile. “Tha’s good, love.” He watched her swim around, the golden light of the setting sun passing over her feathers. She didn’t need him one bit, a thought that had panic rising in his chest, even when he pushed it aside.

She swam until the sun had slipped beneath the horizon. Then, with slightly more ease than she had the last couple of times, she transformed. Simon felt his breath escape in a small gasp as he watched her avian body dive beneath the water and transform into her beautiful human form beneath the wavering surface.

God, she was gorgeous. Possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. But he fought hard to shove down the feelings that warmed in his chest because of it.

She surfaced again in front of him, her eyes wide as a little lambs. Quickly, Simon cleared his throat and averted his eyes from what was just beneath the surface. “Let’s get you dry n’ dressed, doll.”

The more Simon visited, the more your body strengthened and the more your burns healed. Yet, you still refused to admit it. The fire flicked in front of you, he had brought a sort of sleeping mat this time, said that ‘a lady ought to have a proper sleeping arrangement.”

Now, the warmth of the fire radiated from the embers in front of you, and his warmth burned behind you. How had you so easily allowed a man to get so close? The very man who had shot you was now beside you, propped up against his pack and whittling. Every night since the first had led to more training, or rehabilitation rather. You could walk, swim, hell your burns had even smooth out to a light pink mark. And yet, Simon still returned every night to spend it with you.

The thought had your cheeks warming and your heart leaping. But you weren’t ready to admit that, you couldn’t admit that. After all, you spent half your life as a bird, who would want to be with someone they only saw at night?

“Simon?”

“Yes, doll?”

You shifted onto your back to look up at him, “where are you from?”

He paused whittling all together, his eyes going distant for a moment. Then, just as suddenly, they flicked down to you and softened. “A land very far from here.”

Well, that was certainly vague. Your brows pinched, and you could feel your frustration with the response gather in the crinkle of your nose. This didn’t seem to have the desired effect though, his eyes only gained this new, tender warmth that seemed to spread across his whole face. Even the parts hidden by the beard and ear length hair he still had yet to maintain. Everything about him just seemed to melt into something endearing.

“My home is a kingdom filled to the brim with spirit,” he murmured, reached down and brushing some of your hair off your forehead. “The people there are kind and hard workers.” He paused, his eyes going distant again. “When winter touched the land, it didn’t dim our smiles. People would dance and sing in celebration.” He chuckled quietly to himself, “every year, on Christmas, you could walk down the street and find every house with there front door open.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because each home was hosting a feast, and each feast was open for anyone to join.” A crooked, handsome smile formed over his lips and his rough fingertips started to swirl mindlessly in your hair. “In the summer, it was perfect. Filled with colorful flowers and parades for the royal family.”

“Your home sounds beautiful…” you breathed, mind deep in the thought of a place so full of life.

“It was.”

“Was?” Your eyes drew back up to see his face, where some of the warmth had drained away.

“‘S not my home anymore, doll.”

Something deep within you saddened, almost like you could feel his hurt, even without context. “Where do you live now?” You asked softly, unable to bridle your curiosity for even a second.

“With a friend.”

Afternoons continued as swimming lessons, or more like “supervised swimming”. And then nights became quiet moments of comfort and warmth. You’d fall asleep beside him and wake with his presence still clinging to your skin.

Waking up without him, started to almost … hurt. Like the contrast between his warmth and the morning chill was only becoming more and more dramatic. But no matter how much it did hurt, you still clung to the moments spent with him. It was like you had nothing else to live for.

Even as you began to join the flock during the day, you found your attention lingering on the tree line. Waiting for that same tall, broad shoulder silhouette that would surely appear that night.

Now was one of those moments that you felt your heart leap at every shift in the shadows. You swam closer to your shared camp on the shore, your eyes flicking between the trees and the horizon.

He’s running late today. The suns about to set.

Something about the uncharacteristic tardiness sent your heart down a path of growing panic. What if something happened? What if Makorov-

No.

You wouldn’t let yourself go there. Surely that evil, cruel man had better fish to fry than you.

Much to your relief, something in the brush finally moved and Simon stepped out, approaching your camp with a perfectly normal appearance and demeanor. It was silly, you never should have even worried. He was Simon, of course he was fine.

You swam to the shore, just in time for the sun to slip out of the skies grasp. You dove into the water as a bird and reappeared as a woman. When you did, Simon was right there at the edge of the water, holding out a towel and politely turning his head away.

“You had me scared there for a moment,” you smiled, still elated with relief as you stepped into the towel and let him wrap the thick cloth around you.

“Would never abandon you, doll.” He reassured, but his eyes took a moment to go to you. They lingered on the woods, darting around as if in search of something.

“Simon?” He finally looked down at you, his jaw set and tensed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, love.” He tried, reaching up and gently resting both hands on your arms.

There was a sharp click from the woods. Someone loading a crossbow. “Nae, Ghost. I beg to differ.”

Both your heads whipped towards the voice, but you only got a glimpse of who stepped out of them before Simon tucked you behind his large frame.

It was a man, a northerner if you had ever heard that accent before. His eyes were nearly as bright a blue as the summer sky, and his hair a dark brown that resembled some of the chocolates you so often found yourself craving. More noticeably, his head was trimmed short on either side, leaving a proud strip of hair down the center. Over his broad shoulders, a wolf fur was draped, but there was nothing beside that to cover his strong chest and abdomen. A kilt was belted around his hips and draped over his thick, muscular thighs, dawning colors of bright blue and deep, rich green. Out of all the details, the only one that mattered was his gaze on you and the crossbow he had fixed right at you and Simon.

“Soap, let me explain.”

Kyle couldn’t help but slouch in his chair as more and more families entered the front door of the thrown room. His capacity for polite greetings had long since expired, even for the princesses that were potentially going to become his fiance in the up coming weeks.

“Might want to sit up before your mother says something.” A familiar, gravely voice said from slightly behind his thrown. Captain John Price of the Royal Guard.

Kyle sat up, but took the brief break in arriving guests to speak to the man. “When you see the young women that have arrived, Captain, what do you think?”

The man stepped forward as to be more visible to the young prince. “Well, my prince, I see great potential. Most of these princesses seem quite accomplished, you have many good options.”

“Yes yes, but what makes them…stand out.” Kyle pressed, resting his chin in his palm. “What makes them any different from women that you have met in the kingdom.”

A keen, intelligent smile curled over Price’s lips. “I think you will find them very different from the women I have met, my prince.”

Kyle couldn’t help but snort, he knew very well of the ladies the Captain and his men spent time with. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that weighed down on him. “You know what I mean, I-I’m not just looking for a princess, Captain. I want someone who could lead and love the kingdom while at my side.” He glanced over at the king and queen, who were speaking among themselves. “Despite what my parents want.” He tacked on quietly.

The captains eyes warmed and wrinkled at the corners with an expression so soft it was simply unfit for such a hardened warrior. “If you keep that in mind. I don’t doubt that you will be able to find the right one.”

It eased Kyle’s soul to have his support, but still, something within him had felt frantic lately. Night and day he would fidget or find himself unable to sit for too long. “I hope you are right.” He murmured, watching silently as the next royal family stepped through the doors.

Hope you enjoyed it lovelies!

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